#especially when we get to the parts where there's nothing but the countryside
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woke up at 5 to catch the train at 7, slept like, 3h and a half, maybe 3h45, but hey, i got my music, a can of monster and i can watch out the window, so i think it's a cool morning actually
#i love being on the train#it's genuinely one of my favourite things#i love looking through the window as we move#especially when we get to the parts where there's nothing but the countryside#the whole. preparing to travel and everything around it is hella stressful#but i like being on the train itself#the car never feels quite like that for some reason#anyway yk im tired when i ramble abt smth like that ig XD#v talks too much#but tbh that's smth ik happens a lot but i know exactly how all of my OCs would be like while in the train#so maybe there's smth there XD#maybe it's bc we dont have a car so im just so used to traveling by train#part of me does kinda want one of my friends to wake up too so i can talk to someone tho XD
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Garden of Secrets [12] - Hydrangeas
A.N: Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤
Thanks so much to @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter!
Summary: Planning a wedding can cause tension.
Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex.
Word Count: 5400
Series Masterlist
You didn’t even know preparing a wedding could be this troublesome, but for the last couple of days, you’d barely had any time to sit down. There were so many things to do, and for the most part you felt as if you were doing nothing but saying “Yes” to things you weren’t even paying attention to.
But this?
This you paid quite the attention to.
Your uncle had decided to buy you and Benedict a house as a wedding gift. You hadn’t gotten to see it before because it was being made ready but your aunt had assured you that it was to your liking, and to Benedict’s no doubt. Apparently Benedict had a house in the countryside already and he was planning on buying one here as well before the wedding but your uncle had stopped him, stating it would be a present from him for a new beginning.
The carriage stopped and the coachman opened the door for you and helped you out, Teddy, your aunt and your maid following you. After thanking him, you raised your head to look at the house in front of you, an exhale leaving your lips.
It was so beautiful that for a moment you could do nothing but stare at the impressive building, frozen in your spot. It was large, larger than most of the houses in London but knowing your uncle that shouldn’t have been surprising. The huge windows meant inside the house would be well lit all over and the gate opening to the stone road that led to the house looked like it was polished to perfection. A footman rushed to open the gate and your aunt linked her arm through yours while Teddy ran ahead.
“Teddy, not so fast!” you called out but he didn’t even stop.
“I want to see the house!”
“I’ll keep an eye on him my lady,” Paula said and rushed after him to the house while your aunt took an excited breath.
“You will especially like what I’m about to show you,” she said as she pulled you to the step inside the gate but instead of going inside the house, she led you to right past it.
“Auntie, where are we going?”
“You will see!”
“But the entrance is—” you started but stopped talking as soon as you both reached the backyard.
The huge extravagant garden lying in front of you was absolutely breathtaking. The flowerbeds were full of colorful flowers, no doubt kept in pristine condition by the previous owner’s gardener and you turned your gaze to the beautiful greenhouse by the far end of the garden, across from the fountain by the gazebo.
It looked like something out of a fairytale.
“We chose this one not only for the house but for the garden as well!” she said, turning to look at you better. “A garden of your own and a greenhouse! Do you like it?”
You could feel the burning behind your eyes as well as the slight pinch on the bridge of your nose, a sure sign of the tears. In truth, this was beyond everything you had dreamt or hoped for when you imagined your future, that was why it was nearly a torment to see such a beautiful vision and knowing you wouldn’t get to make it yours no matter how much you wanted to.
You couldn’t keep a garden and live in fear that Benedict could take it away from you whenever he saw it fit.
“It’s so beautiful,” you managed to say before you wrapped your arms around her and pulled her into a hug to hide your face. She patted your back gently, holding you tight before pulling back to cup your face.
“I hope your marriage will be filled with nothing but bliss,” she said. “And that you and your husband will be incredibly happy here.”
Your husband.
Right.
You blinked back the tears and smiled at her.
“I’m certain we will,” you lied and she let out a happy laugh.
“Wonderful!” she said and pulled you by the hand. “Let me show you the house!”
*
The house itself was as gorgeous as the outside. With its high ceilings, spacious hallways and well-lit rooms, it was as if someone wanted to make sure anyone who stepped inside would never feel smothered by the walls, instead would feel as free as one would outside. You could already hear Teddy running wild in the hallway and your aunt talking to Paula while you leaned sideways to the window frame, keeping your eyes on the garden.
It looked like a painting, almost.
The knock on the doorframe made you snap out of your thoughts and you looked over your shoulder.
“Benedict?”
“Good afternoon,” he said, his soft smile making your heart skip a beat. “I hope you do not mind, your aunt invited me.”
“Of course she did,” you said, that familiar tension making its way through your veins again but you managed to ignore it. “Have you had the chance to look around?”
He nodded his head.
“I have,” he said. “Is it to your liking?”
You opened your mouth to say yes, then stopped yourself and shrugged your shoulders, crossing your arms.
“To yours?”
“It is actually,” he said. “Did you see the garden yet?”
Your eyes flickered over his handsome face and you shrugged your shoulders again.
“I did,” you said. “Which side do you want by the way?”
He seemed confused at your question. “What?”
You motioned around. “The house,” you said. “Which side would you prefer? I think the east side has better light for your work, but it doesn’t matter to me really.”
A frown pulled at his brows. “We’re—we’re dividing the house?”
“Well not dividing,” you said. “At least not literally but I figured it would be easier for…us both.”
“Easier?” he asked but before you could come up with an answer, you heard Teddy’s footsteps coming closer.
“Y/N I saw a butterfly—” he stopped talking when he saw Benedict, his face pinching in a frown. He made his way to you, shy all of a sudden now that you weren’t surrounded by people like you had been back at dinner. You knew he would be distant with Benedict after learning you would be marrying him, and you squeezed at his shoulder in an assuring way while he half hid behind your skirts.
“Hello Teddy,” Benedict said, kneeling down to get to his level. “You saw a butterfly?”
Teddy nodded quietly, biting on his nail.
“What was it like?”
Teddy paused, then shrugged his shoulders in silence. Benedict looked around the room, then tilted his head.
“What do you think about the house?”
“’s nice.” Teddy mumbled inaudibly, still hesitant to answer and Benedict hummed.
“Have you picked your room yet?”
That managed to get a reaction from Teddy as he gasped, looking up at you. “My room?”
You stared at Benedict, then cleared your throat. “Teddy…”
“I get a room?!” he asked, excitement laced in his voice and he darted before you could even say anything. “Auntie! Auntie I’ll have a room here, did you know that?!”
You dragged the tip of your tongue over your lip and turned to Benedict. “You shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why? Surely he will need a room especially if he’s staying with—”
“He’s not staying with us,” you cut him off, making him frown.
“Why not?”
Because you didn’t want to risk it. You had grown up watching your mother and father and you had seen what happened numerous times when there was a fight. Teddy staying with your uncle and aunt was going to be better for him, at least you trusted them.
Not to mention it would be safer for him. If Benedict got angry and wanted to take it out on the nearest person like your father used to—
You couldn’t let that happen, not to Teddy.
“Mr. Bridgerton, welcome!” your aunt’s voice reached you both, making you turn to her and Benedict bowed his head.
“Lady Thorne.”
“Now that both of you are here, I can finally show you the bedchambers!”
You gawked at her. “Pardon?”
“Come come!” she said and you both followed her down the hallway until she turned a corner and opened a door.
“Here are your bedchambers,” she said with a smile while you stared at the huge four-poster bed. “And Y/N, the cojoined lady’s room we can turn into a close for you! Or a studio for Mr. Bridgerton.”
Oh.
Oh you were to—
Right. Of course you were expected to sleep together, or at least spend some nights in the same bed for the… nightly activities of marriage.
You could feel the fear crashing down on you but you managed to swallow the lump growing bigger in your throat, biting on your tongue to focus. If it were any other time you would’ve thought the room looked even lovelier than your current room, but now all it looked like was a threat of the days to come. Benedict’s gaze stopped on you while you clenched and unclenched your hand, twisting your wrist subtly.
“Or a nursery if you wish but the actual nursery is the room over there—”
“I’ll go and check the kitchen,” you cut her off, the panic roaring through your veins like wildfire as you walked past Benedict, and rushed downstairs.
It didn’t take you that long to find it, probably because the layout was a bit similar to your uncle’s house, at least when it came to floor plan. You entered the empty kitchen and went to the table to pull yourself a seat, then slumped down on it, your heart still beating in your ears.
It was going to be unpleasant yes, but it wasn’t as if you didn’t know it before. You knew what was to take place on your wedding night and throughout your marriage but at least Benedict already had mistresses so perhaps it wouldn’t take place very often.
You rubbed at your wrist, thoughts swirling in your mind but then raised your head when you heard Benedict entering the kitchen.
“May I?” he motioned at the chair across from you and scoffed a laugh.
“By all means. It’s your house.”
“Our house.”
You clicked your tongue. “My name isn’t on it,” you stated as he sat down.
“Listen—”
“I was thinking—” you both said at the same time and Benedict motioned at you.
“You first.”
You could feel your heart leaping to your throat in nervousness but you swallowed thickly, then ran your nail over the wooden table.
“I would like to have my own room,” you said after a beat and he nodded.
“Of course,” he said. “However you like.”
“And I want to go back to it or for you to go back to yours if it takes place in my room, after we’re done.”
He frowned slightly like he didn’t understand. “After we’re done?”
You nibbled on your lip, still dragging your nail over the wood.
“I know what’s expected of me,” you managed to say, your voice very clear and not shaky by some miracle. “At night. And I will comply with those expectations but I’d—”
“Y/N,” he stopped you and let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. “Nothing is expected of you."
You rolled your eyes and looked up at him. “We’re having a serious conversation here.”
“Do I look to be jesting?” he asked and you paused for a moment, then sat up straighter.
“Assuming you’re going to keep your mistresses after the wedding…”
“I don’t have any mistresses and I will not keep one,” he said. “Do you really think—”
“You can though,” you stated, making him pull back slightly. For some reason, a pang of pain spread through your chest but you paid no mind to it. “Whatever your prior arrangements were, as long as they’re discreet for the sake of appearances I will not mind. Besides I’d—”
You paused for a moment, nervousness getting the words stuck in your throat but you took a deep breath.
“With you and me, I’d like it if it wasn’t very…often. Aside from our duty of course.”
A silence fell upon the kitchen while he stared at you and you waited with bated breath, your face growing hotter every second. The panic was slowly climbing up your chest and before you knew it, you found yourself unnecessarily explaining the situation.
“Because I know it’s usually unpleasant for—you know, I’m aware that it’s just usually unpleasant for women even in the instances both sides try to make it so. No need for us to try when you already have a working arrangement with others.”
A look of realization dawned on his face, making you pull your brows together and he cleared his throat before clasping his hands over the table, the perfect picture of decorum. His hands were so close to yours that if you moved your fingers just a little you would be able to touch his hand and feel if they were as warm as you remembered. The sudden desire twitched your fingers but you curled them and dug your fingernails into your palm, forcing yourself to focus.
“I will not touch you unless you want me to,” he said, his calm voice snapping you out of your thoughts. “I swear on my honor, nothing is expected of you and you have no duty to fulfill.”
Your frown deepened as you tried to wrap your mind around it.
“And,” he said, a cocky smile curling his lips slightly. “If the time ever comes and you decide you do want me to touch you, I can assure you I will do a better job at it than some incompetent prick who convinced you it was supposed to be unpleasant for you.”
That simple promise wasn’t supposed to send tingles right between your legs and your eyes snapped up at his before confusion hit you, making you tilt your head.
“Wait, what?”
“Whoever that clumsy idiot was,” he said. “He clearly lied to you.”
You blinked a couple of times. “You think I’ve been with someone before?”
He shot you a knowing look. “You really don’t need to do that, I would never think any less of you. I’m guessing it was before you came to London? Was he a friend or something?”
You would have laughed if you weren’t so tense.
“He was nonexistent?” you said after a beat. “I’ve never been with anyone.”
That seemed to take him by surprise, and he pulled back a little, his mouth slightly agape.
“You’re…” he trailed off, still staring at you. “Oh.”
You frowned. “Why are you so surprised by that?”
“I’m not!” he said defensively and your jaw dropped.
“Yes you are!”
“No I just thought—” he motioned at you. “You make a lot of jokes about it.”
“So?”
“So I assumed,” he paused. “Well, Charlie doesn’t even know it exists.”
A scoff left your lips. “And whose fault is that?”
“Not mine, clearly!” he insisted. “I just assumed since you kept making innuendos and you obviously know what it is…”
“I also know a lot about cacti Benedict,” you whispered through your teeth, your voice heated. “It doesn’t make me a goddamn cactus!”
“It’s different—”
“Wait a second,” you cut him off and he ran a hand through his hair, making it fluffier.
“Hm?”
“You were going to marry me even if you thought I…” you tried to find the words but failed miserably. “Even if you thought I haven’t remained chaste?”
He shrugged his shoulders.
“I haven’t remained chaste,” he pointed out with a small grin. “In case it has escaped your notice.”
“It hasn’t escaped anyone’s notice,” you deadpanned, trying to hold back the sudden laughter bubbling in your chest and his grin widened.
“So why would it change anything?”
You could feel the warmth filling your chest and you nibbled on your lip, but before you could say anything, you heard footsteps coming closer and your aunt leaned on the doorframe.
“What is it with you two and this unstoppable insistence on being unchaperoned?” she asked as Benedict winked at you, making you roll your eyes while a small smile pulled at your lips. “Come on. We still have much to do.”
*
As it turned out, your aunt had another surprise for you. After you and Benedict got in the separate carriages to go to your separate ways, you realized it wasn’t the way to your home but your aunt refused to tell you where you were going.
It was only when the carriage stopped in front of a very familiar shop that you realized what it was and your heart dropped to your stomach.
“What on earth?”
“Surprise!” your aunt said and turned to Teddy. “My dear, Paula will take you to that pastry shop over there while you wait for us, alright?”
“Yes!” Teddy grinned while you turned to your aunt.
“Auntie…”
“We’re going to choose designs for your wedding gown, and who is better than Madame Delacroix to give you the perfect wedding gown?”
Anyone.
Anyone at all, you were half tempted to stop a random person on the street if it meant it wouldn’t be Madame Delacroix who would make your wedding gown. She and Benedict had been together up until your very sudden betrothal, and you weren’t even sure if that was still happening.
Even the thought of it made your throat burn for some reason.
It wasn’t within your plans to have your wedding gown made by your future husband’s former -and perhaps current- mistress, but it wasn’t as if you could tell your aunt about it.
“Lady Bridgerton is already there!”
Oh dear God.
You wondered if you could just trip on your way down from carriage to fake a sprained ankle just so that you could avoid this very moment, but before you could even do that, Paula and Teddy had already left the carriage to go to the pastry shop and your aunt pulled you out of the carriage and essentially pushed you into the store before you could protest.
“Y/N!” Lady Bridgerton said, standing up from the sofa to come and hug you. “Ah how beautiful you look!”
“Lady Bridgerton,” you managed to say. “What a lovely surprise. Good afternoon.”
She pulled back to smile at you, clasping your hands in hers.
“I hope you do not mind the intrusion, but your aunt says you were quite hesitant about your wedding gown,” she said. “So she and I will help you.”
“…Wonderful,” you said after a beat and Madame Delacroix came closer to you.
“Miss Y/N,” she said silkily, “Welcome. Congratulations on your engagement.”
You forced yourself to smile and gulped down. “Thank you, Madame Delacroix,” you said. “You’re most kind.”
“Caroline have you seen this silk?” Lady Bridgerton asked, pointing at a fabric before walking to the other side of the shop with your aunt following her, and you shifted your weight from one foot to other.
“If you could come with me,” Madame Delacroix said and led you to the counter where the sketchbook was open, full of different sketches of many wedding gowns. “We can make some arrangements if you’d like, these are just so that you can have some idea.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled, looking down at the sketches, silence falling upon you. You could still hear your aunt and Lady Bridgerton chatting happily and you absentmindedly turned a page, trailing your fingertips in a lazy manner until—
Until you saw it.
The gown itself looked like it was ethereal, with light tulle and white silk that almost looked liquid. Even though the design itself didn’t have any flowers, you could almost see how it would look if the skirts were embroidered with tiny blossoms along with small leaves over the bodice.
“That one?”
Madame Delacroix’s soft accent made you snap out of it and you scolded yourself in your head before you nodded, keeping your finger on it so that you wouldn’t miss it.
“Let me show you some options,” she said and walked behind the shop before she came out with three different shades of white silk, then laid them over the counter. You bit inside your cheek, guilt washing over you as you took one of the silks into your hand, then stole a look at her.
“I would like to offer you my apologies, Madame Delacroix.”
She raised her brows. “For what, ma chérie?”
“I think you know.”
A look of realization crossed her face but she managed to cover it quite fast.
“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“We have a common friend whom you know better than I do,” you said, then shook your head when you saw her expression. “I didn’t tell anyone. I would never, I assure you. I’m quite good with secrets.”
She cleared her throat. “Whatever you may have heard…”
“He didn’t tell me,” you added in a haste. “No one did, don’t worry. It doesn’t matter how I know, I just—”
She watched you in a silence and you cleared your throat, then motioned around.
“This wasn’t my idea,” you said. “I recognize this visit may come off as rubbing salt in the wound or tantalizing but I honestly wasn’t aware my aunt and his mother were planning on it until just now.”
She pursed her lips, but stayed quiet.
“I recognize how difficult it might be,” you said. “And if you wish, I can just tell them I want to hire someone else for this.”
She tilted her head. “And why would you do that for me?”
You shrugged your shoulders, then heaved a sigh.
“It wasn’t my intention to—” you paused for a moment, then let out a bitter chuckle. “Despite what Lady Whistledown might suggest, it was never my intention to steal him or get in the way of a certain…arrangement, whatever it may be. So I would like to offer my apologies if I accidentally did such a thing.”
She looked almost taken aback by your words but before she could say anything, Lady Bridgerton came closer.
“Did you find anything you liked, dearest?”
You paused for a second, then cleared your throat. “Actually Lady Bridgerton, I’d rather hire—”
“Miss Y/N liked a very beautiful design,” Madame Delacroix cut you off, making you turn to her. “And I’d love to make it for her.”
You blinked a couple of times, then offered her a smile.
“…Thank you,” you said and she smiled back before you turned to Lady Bridgerton. “And yes. I found a design I love.”
*
Thankfully most of the ton was convinced of your sudden love story with Benedict, especially after the last ball. Even Lady Whistledown had claimed Benedict’s love must have melted your ice on her last piece and it was obvious while people would be watching you very closely, they believed your ruse.
It was probably more about Benedict and less about you though. He had been so convincing that multiple ladies had come to talk to you and tell you how lucky you were throughout the night.
So you had a feeling this ball wasn’t going to be so different but that did nothing to soothe that nervousness in you.
Benedict was just writing his name on Charlotte’s dance card for a dance when you got to the ballroom with your aunt, and Lottie waved at you before she said something to Lady Bridgerton and Lady Danbury who were with them.
“I was beginning to wonder where you were,” Benedict said as you reached them and pressed a kiss on your gloved hand, making you smile at him while Lady Danbury and Lady Bridgerton exchanged glances, grinning. Your aunt pressed a hand over her chest, obviously emotional.
“Last minute gown issue,” you said as you grabbed a lemonade from the tray a footman was carrying. “Good evening Lady Danbury. Lady Bridgerton.”
“Good evening dear.”
“What was wrong with your gown?” Lottie asked and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Oh, long story.”
“Speaking of gowns...” Lady Bridgerton said and your aunt chuckled.
“I’m so excited about that, you’d think it’s my wedding.”
Charlotte looked from you to your aunt and Lady Danbury snapped her fingers.
“Oh I forgot you were doing that today!” she said. “Violet told me. When do we get to see it?”
“See what?” Charlotte asked and you cleared your throat.
“I would’ve told you beforehand if I knew.”
“Knew what?” Benedict asked, making Lady Bridgerton turn to him.
“Well I kept it a secret from you as well Benedict, because I knew you would tell her,” she said with a smile, “We surprised your betrothed today.”
“With what?”
You looked down at your drink, discomfort hitting you all of a sudden but Lady Bridgerton didn’t notice.
“We took Y/N to the modiste so that she could choose her wedding gown.”
It was apparently a bad idea for Benedict to have been sipping his drink when he heard that, because he choked on his drink and started coughing, making Charlotte slap his back, completely oblivious.
“Oh I would love to come to the next fitting Y/N!”
“You did what?” Benedict asked when he could get enough air and you raised your brows, then nodded your head.
“It surely was a surprise when the carriage stopped there,” you managed to say and Benedict swallowed thickly.
“I can imagine.”
“Perhaps you can join the next time—”
“That’s not a good idea auntie,” you cut her off and Charlotte held her breath.
“Of course, he is not allowed to see it before the wedding!” she said and turned to Benedict. “It’s bad luck, everyone knows.”
You and Benedict exchanged glances and Lady Danbury smiled.
“But we can, right?”
“…Of course,” you said as the music started and Charlotte turned her head.
“It’s our turn, come on,” she said and put her hand on his arm, then pulled him to the dance floor.
“It’ll be so beautiful,” your aunt told Lady Danbury, “She’s having some changes made on the original sketch, I cannot wait to see the final product.”
“Flowers and leaves,” Lady Bridgerton said and you reminded yourself to smile.
“Excuse me for a moment please,” you said and made your way out of the ballroom into the hallway just so that you could get away from the chaos there. You ran your hand over the white hydrangeas in the vase on the small table as you approached the nearest painting, and tilted your head, staring at the brush strokes.
Benedict’s art was better.
You rubbed at your forehead, a sigh leaving your lips as you willed yourself to focus on anything but the storm of thoughts in your head. Today had been extremely tiring for you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Benedict still had feelings for Madame Delacroix or if he and she ever—
“Miss Y/N,” a voice interrupted your thoughts, making you turn your head but as soon as you saw who it was, you rolled your eyes, a small groan leaving your lips.
Exactly what the situation needed.
A conversation with Kitty Morris.
“What?” you asked tersely and she scoffed.
“Oh dear, what they say about you is true. You must’ve been raised by wolves.”
You shrugged your shoulders. “Yes it’s true. What do you want?”
She took a look at the painting before she stepped closer. “I just wanted to congratulate you on your engagement.”
“Right,” you muttered. “Much appreciated.”
“Quite a hasty engagement though,” she said. “People have all sorts of ideas about the reason.”
“Like what?”
“My friends say that you trapped him,” she said with her nose up in the air. “With what, I do not dare assume.”
You arched a brow. “Do you not?”
“I can assume the reason, not the act,” she said. “Some of us were raised as ladies.”
You clicked your tongue, anger starting to burn at the pit of your stomach.
“And what is the reason, pray tell?”
“You knew he would never think anything serious with you unless you forced him,” she said. “I mean, he didn’t even think anything serious with Charlotte while leading her on for two years let alone someone like you.”
Your eyes sharpened like a cat’s but you forced yourself not to take the bait. Fighting over a man was absolutely beneath you, you weren’t going to do it just because she was trying to start a verbal fight.
You had to draw the line somewhere.
“Go deal with whatever is bothering you on your own, I’m not going to hold your hand through it,” you said as you took a step, but stopped dead in your tracks when you heard her speak again.
“He was never going to marry you,” she called out. “Unless you trapped him. You grew up poor for God’s sake, if it weren’t for your uncle you would be on the streets where you belong. Everyone knows that, they say even your parents didn’t want you. Why would someone like Benedict Bridgerton want to be married to you?”
…Very well.
Fighting over a man was beneath you but you could kneel down a little if she wanted to go there.
You threw your shoulders back and turned around.
“And you think if it weren’t for me, he was going to marry you?”
“Obviously,” she said. “That’s why you sabotaged it the moment he started taking interest in me. It was clear he was going to propose to me, everyone knows that.”
You hummed and pointed at the ballroom with your thumb. “Why don’t you go ahead and ask him then?”
She pulled back slightly. “What?”
“Go ask him if he wants to marry you instead of me,” you said. “He’s in the ballroom, the dance is probably over. He’s not busy.”
She looked at a loss for words and you tilted your head.
“No?” you asked. “Fine, I can go ask him if you’d like.”
You took a couple of steps towards the ballroom but she rushed to get in front of you.
“You will do no such thing!” she demanded and you let out a small laugh.
“Why not?” you asked. “If he wants to marry you, I will not stand in your way. We can break the engagement tonight in front of the whole ton.”
“If you think that’s acceptable—”
“I did ask him about you by the way,” you cut her off “Once. Whether he would propose to you after you and your friends kept whispering about it right behind me. Do you want to hear what he said?”
She glared at you. “You’re lying.”
“Benedict is too polite to break people’s delusions,” you stated. “I don’t have that issue. So I’m not lying, I’ll tell you what he said if you want to hear it.”
A silence fell upon you and you raised your brows.
“I suppose not,” you pointed out. “Alright then. I will go back to my betrothed now if you don’t mind so if you could step aside?”
She raised her chin defiantly, crossing her arms as if she dared you to and you smirked slightly.
“Kitty,” you said. “You will not like it if I make you. Step aside.”
She gritted her teeth and looked you up and down.
“It doesn’t surprise me the whole ton is shocked by your engagement, not just me,” she spat, fury apparent in her tone. “Your less than favorable background is apparent all over you, regardless of what expensive gown they put you in. No wonder we’re all surprised.”
You shrugged your shoulders.
“Maybe,” you said airily. “Whether you find it surprising or not doesn’t really change the outcome though.”
“The outcome?”
You smiled, then nodded in the direction of the ballroom.
“That one is mine,” you said, barely aware of the pride laced in your voice. “And he’s in love with me. Go find your own.”
She took a step back, her eyes gleaming with frustrated tears and you sipped your drink.
“And show some composure, will you?” you asked. “People will think you were raised by wolves.”
She paused for only a moment before a sob escaped from her and she rushed past you to go outside, leaving you there. You scoffed a laugh and shook your head.
“Unbelievable,” you muttered to yourself and downed your lemonade, then made your way back to the ballroom.
Chapter 13
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farmer!bakugou x chubby reader
N.A: I couldn't stand it and tried to write something about it. I hope you like it and sorry for anything, I'm still getting the hang of things around here.
N.A.2: Some parts were based on real events 💀💀💀
Imagine our chubby reader who, tired of city life, decides to move to the countryside.
As in stardew valley, we can say that she received the farm as an inheritance and had no better opportunity to leave everything in the city and go towards the quiet life she needed.
She really thought life would be calmer, but things didn't start off too well.
How she did everything on the spur of the moment, didn't plan much or even research about the city or how to plant something lmao
She just went. very impulsive, so to speak.
It all started to go wrong when she was late at the bus station to find the bus and ended up missing it.
And the break was 4 hours because the fleet was ridiculously small 💀💀💀
(I know a lot about this, my journey is at least 2 hours and the fleet I use only has 3 buses 🗣️🗣️🗣️)
The poor was moldying at the station.
When she arrived in the city, the dirt floor was obviously very rough and unstable.
And she had 2 huge suitcases 💀💀💀
The sun hitting her head and the poor thing just "ok, I can do it. I've faced worse in that motherfucker's office."
Another 30 minutes of walking, long puffs and a lot of dripping sweat. Any vestige of "beauty" at that moment was already blown away.
There is no base that can hold a 39° sun on her head.
When she finally sees the end of the dirt road and the farms starting to appear, chaos ensues.
Halfway there she sees 3 cows and thinks "ok, cows. This is a rural place, obviously there would be cows somewhere." And she keeps walking.
But the path was rather narrow and two of them occupied the passage.
She stops and watches, wondering what to do. With two large, heavy suitcases.
She decides to go through the bush with one and then another. And it initially worked.
She walks past them with the first one without making much of a fuss. And she passes with the second.
"God is always good." She thinks.
When she doesn't even walk 200 meters, she hears a very loud moo in the distance, where she had come from and when she looks back...
A horse. Unruly and crazy. Simply running.
The cows start running towards our reader and she ???what now???
Just drop your bags and run.
"There won't be any Dior foundation to use if you die." She thinks.
There comes a time when she realizes that there is nothing else to do but throw herself in the woods and she doesn't think too much beforehand.
She hears another trot and suddenly her field of vision is filled with muscular arms twirling a rope, wild dirty sandy blonde hair and a face with not very friendly expressions.
Eyes as sharp as a katana look at her there, lying on the ground and overgrown in places that only God knows, and a clear sneer is heard.
She doesn't know if she feels horny, ashamed or angry.
Horny over your not-so-innocent initial thoughts, shame over your current state, and anger for the same reason.
Ensnared, the horse finally stops running, but the cows follow the horizon.
"Is that horse yours?" You ask as you get up and try to get the grass out of your clothes.a.
Mas bakugou não responde.
Ele está muito ocupado amarrando seu cavalo a uma árvore e se perguntando se vale a pena gastar sua saliva com mais um turista idiota que decide se aventurar no campo.
"God, maybe the horse was right to run away." You exclaim heading towards the disaster that left your suitcase.
"What did you say?" His thick voice sends a shiver up his spine.
"Apparently, besides being rude, he's deaf." You bite.
Oh, sweetie. For what?
"Bull"kugou, as many call it, is known as the biggest bitch in town. Always grumpy and stressed out about everything and everyone. Nothing escapes. Animals, people, plants. He's always kind of hard to deal with, especially for tourists.
imagine you hope to find peace in the countryside and suddenly comes a blonde hurricane?
It is no wonder that he is responsible for scaring so many people away and is constantly taking calls from the mayor for affecting the local economy with his outbursts of humor.
But you had a shitty day.
And since you were in hell, why not sit on the devil's lap soon?
and there is none better than a devilish blonde.
"Listen here, little girl." He starts and you soon cut to the chaotic state your clothes are in.
"Listen here you! Look what your crazy animal did? My bags, my clothes, my things!" You start poking and gathering your stuff on the floor, all dirty and/or broken. "Your fault."
Bakugou gets close to his stuff and kicks a book with a shirtless man's cover.
"Junk and more junk." He keeps poking at his stuff with his foot. "Are you going to some kind of 5-star ranch or has the shit in town gotten to your head?"
"For your information, I'm coming to live here." You respond by throwing your stuff into the destroyed suitcase.
"You? I doubt it." He raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms, making the hard-worked muscles increasingly bulge and visible. "Must be just another city snoop who pet an animal and thinks he's become a farmer."
"How about you go fuck yourself?" You answer and watch him duck.
"Alone is no fun." He sees your bra and directs his hand to grab it, but is stopped by a slap from you. "What the fuck is that?"
"Don't touch my stuff."
"But I was just going to help you." he laughs. "Who would have thought that these little hands would have this strength, you can work on my ranch now."
"Thank you so much for the offer, but I'm not interested in anything coming from you."
As you watched what you could salvage from your stuff, bakugou stared at you with a shitty face. You thought he was just a country troublemaker, after all, you were used to dealing with a few in the city. Being a big girl there wasn't easy, and as much as they said that in inner cities was different and that girls like you were really appreciated there, you doubted it a little. Life is not a fairy tale for a girl like you.
But you didn't let things like that get you down. When they came with one stone, you came back with three.
On the other hand, Bakugou was really wondering if it was worth scaring you like he was used to doing with the other unwanted visitors. After all, you weren't that undesirable to him. You was pretty, plump and had that acidic tongue he liked so much. Even a little messy and with grass in your hair, he thought you were pretty.
Even more so when you had that expression ready to throw whatever came your way at him.
People didn't usually have the guts to stand up to a guy as well built like him, let alone curse him like you did.
If anyone who knew him was afraid. Guess who doesn't?
He was mildly shocked when you told him to go fuck himself right off the bat, but he managed to disguise it and get around it just fine.
"You're going to have to improve your manners." He talks loving seeing your face contort in disbelief. "Around here people are solicitous anyway."
"I hope you're not including yourself."
"You'll have to get used to one man poking his nose into other people's stuff too. Small town stuff, you know how it is, right?"
"Are you still talking?"
"Your attitude too, you'll have to improve." He gets up and starts walking away. "Well, anyway, it's going to be a pleasure."
"What?"
"to be able to tame one more animal by the reins." He laughs walking away. "I'm not just rude and deaf, you know? I'm also a great tamer."
"A-ANIMAL?!"
#chubby reader#fat reader#plus size reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugo x female reader#bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bnha bakugo katsuki
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I fly all the way to the hotel, on the bus, through the cow-riddled fields I can’t see in the dark, until I’m flying through the lobby, already all the way up in his room in my head…until the valet stops me, tells me I need to check the front desk.
It’s not my thing, but sometimes shit gets broken…I always enjoy dealing with that sort of stuff, insist they come to me personally.
“What’s broken this time?” I act the bored chaperone part to get us off, but inside I’m almost always thrilled.
“Nothing.” He looks spooked. “He just left the key. Said he needs you in his room.”
“Is the pool open?”
“The pool?” His eyes widen; his accent slips, revealing he’s a little American in little England.
“Yeah. Is it?”
“It’s…it’s very cold.”
“Isn’t it heated?”
“We…we could heat it.”
“Cool…please, will you?”
“Y-yes.”
“Thank you.” I give my sweetest smile, all poison viper.
- xx -
“Hey.”
“Hey.” He hugs me, dressed less like a rockstar in something like yoga pants, knit sweater. “What took so long?”
“Nothing.”
“Hmmm. What about the pool?”
“They should be heating it up as we speak. Why the change in scenery?”
“Come check out the balcony, it’s sick. What did you have to do to get it done?”
“Sweet talking.”
He scoffs. “What did you really have to do?”
“Drop my knickers.”
He laughs. “Really.”
“Just had to say I wanted it…didn’t even have to say it was for you.”
“That hurts.”
“I know…couldn’t argue with him though, I like being boss.”
“You are always boss.”
“In all but name, not that I mind.”
He throws open the door, and wow: it is sick.
The view is all countryside, which means except for a few pinpricks of light in our vicinity, there’s nothing for miles and miles…and then there’s the tub, tucked in one corner, filling with water, about halfway.
“What took you so long?” I’m only teasing him as I test the water…it’s warm.
He doesn’t answer, so I turn to face him, to find that he’s flushed, unusually.
“I had to make a call.”
“Bugging Elias again?”
“Almost. Although…we can talk about that later.”
“Cool…are we inviting anybody up?”
“No?”
“Are you asking?”
“I thought it could be just us…I really don’t wanna deal with anyone else right now. Oh, and, uh…I had to give over both our keys so we could have this room free of charge. Do you hate me yet?”
“I could never hate you…especially not for this.”
“I was worried for about two seconds. What’s up with the tour schedule?”
“They set tonight’s show to two days from now, and I called down to the label so they can fix the dates on the rest of the tour.”
“Cool. Tell me what they change it to when it comes through?”
“Always. Now, who’s going first?”
“Ladies?”
“Fuck you.”
He laughs, takes off his shirt, jumps right in…getting covered in goosebumps where he’s out of the water.
I take pity, slipping out of my shorts and going in just my shirt, reaching to hug him.
“How are you always so warm?” He wraps himself around me the rest of the way, and I don’t make him let go, though it feels strange.
“The heat’s in my blood?”
“I was born someplace warm too, and I haven’t got that.”
“Luck of the draw, baby. Maybe yours was a cold year.”
“Is that how you think it goes?”
“Could be…or maybe it’s just a matter of choice.”
“Hmm. What’s that thing around your neck?”
“Secrets.”
“Secrets come in silver now?”
“Haven’t they always?”
“Yeah…”
It’s actually the ring, though now isn’t the time the way I thought it would be…I look up, up at the sky, and then we’re quiet, until my phone rings in my shorts.
“Shit…”
“Could be the front desk.”
“Wanna bet on who broke what?”
“Nah…you always win. Taking me for all I’m worth.”
“I don’t need a bet to do that.”
“My point exactly.”
- xx -
She rolls her eyes and slips halfway off the tub, bending to reach her shorts…I’m sure she’s about to fall over, so I reach to hold her waist…her underwear’s black, watersheer…how the fuck am I gonna tell her?
“Hi?” She’s already sliding back in next to me, careless as fuck, always.
“Oh, cool. Thanks. Take the…yeah. Oh, yeah…that’d be great. There’s no need to…yeah, slide it in. Thank you.”
“Slide it in?” I cock an eyebrow.
“Dirty fucker.” But she’s distracted. “They’re bringing the keys to the pool…wasn’t sure they’d actually do it.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think they heat it usually, and it’s up on the roof, maybe uncovered? They probably had to wake millions just to get it ready.”
“Or three people.”
“I’d hope for none.”
“You’re too nice.”
“You’re not too bad yourself.”
“Underneath everything else.”
“Yeah…”
“So…do you wanna go up now?”
“Yeah, might as well. Need to put on something else…don’t want to get a call about wet streaks in the hall.”
“I’d take it for you.”
But she’s gone, beelining for the closet, where I left her backpack…I stare at her as long as I can before making my way out of the water, closing the tub so we don’t have to start again, get undressed.
- xx -
She throws open the glass door, stripping immediately, jumping in before I can even get all the way out of my clothes.
“Is it cold?”
“No…stop being a pussy.”
“Fuck you.”
“Come over here and do it yourself.”
I give her what she wants, jumping into the water…it is warm, thank fuck.
She swims closer to me, reaches a hand out to play with my hair, laughing at the way it looks…I do the same to hers.
“Is it time for a cut?”
“Maybe…it’s getting a little long.” She slips her fingers around the edges, brushing my neck.
“What should I do next?”
“You know I’ll always say grow it long…but you should ask people again, it makes them feel like they’re part of the show.”
“I should grow it, just for you.”
Her eyes get distant, and that scares me so much, I start to slowly lose it, though I try not to show it.
“You’ll look great no matter what you do, J.”
“Maybe we should match.”
She laughs. “Last time I grew my hair long, I almost died.”
“Why?”
“It hurt…but the worst of it was that it became unbrushable.”
“I’d brush it if you let me…”
Her eyes are still drifting, distant, colder than the night air…until she stops, turning to look at me, swimming closer.
She stops inches away, and then wraps her arms around my shoulders, even as I get mine around her waist…
“I got you something…it’s…fuck, it’s so cheesy, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I’ve just said one of the cheesiest things of my life…that’s just us.”
She nods, slipping her fingers away; I hold her against me halfway, as she reaches behind her to unclasp the necklace she hadn’t been wearing earlier, taking it in her hand, before slipping something out of it.
“I know you’ve got tons of metal, so I wanted to get something different…the colors are boring, but still…”
She slips it into my hand, and I turn it over, accidentally pulling her closer, her fingers going across my back, along my neck…it’s a ring, black pink woven together, unlike anything I have.
“It’s…it’s great. Where…where did you get it?”
“Some country mall…I wove it myself. I used to have one of these a while back and because I was a hopeless useless romantic even when I didn’t want to be…I thought if I ever found someone I really liked, I’d make them one…and it couldn’t be metal, because that hurts, and it’s bad enough that you’re…that we’re doing whatever this is.”
“This isn’t bad.”
“Right now…but it has been. And I know I’m fucked, that I’m not easy.”
“I’m not, either. I don’t mind. This…no one’s ever given me anything like this…thank you, Y/N/N. I love it.”
It feels like barely a second, until we’re kissing, her breath mixing with mine, the two of us tangling together in the water…we stop, for barely a second, just long enough for her to slip the ring on my finger, and then I’m lying on my back on the pool steps, and she’s making her way over my chest, up and down until she’s down, just enough…I don’t know how, but she’s always ready, reaching into her shorts for a condom, sliding her tongue hard enough that I feel dizzy, lost…we don’t even talk, I couldn’t anyway; I only have to slip my fingers over her arm for her to slide up, slide in, legs around my waist, hair everywhere…I slip my fingers around her hips, sliding her underwear all the way down, slipping in slowly so I don’t hurt her…she pushes down, though, the rest of the way, and then we’re pressed chest to chest, and I’m kissing her.
“I love you so fucking much.”
She doesn’t answer, doesn’t need to…she bites my shoulder, and I come…finish her off, until we’re both on our backs on the steps, and I’m all the way under her, the only way to chase away the cold.
#american satan#johnny faust x reader#johnny faust#andy black x reader#andy biersack x reader#andy black#paradise city
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hai :3 ambrose directed me to you so. please tell me about lip/hiyo i love drama and discourse so much (non forcing btw)
みなさん、おはこんばんちわ !! my name is ess but u can call me vyn, maiko or secchan~ and i will be your announcer for today <3 ! today we will be discussing why i dislike lip/hiyo ! this is gonna contain a lot of buffers so i dont get caught up in the tags or the search results so um. im sorry if its a pain to read. please be warned these are MOSTLY personal opinions and i don't intend on infringing on ppl who do ship it. i do not care. simply DONT tag my shit as it and we're good ^_^ except ppl dont listen and i find it fucking annoying so. here's a full blown explanation i guess
first ! lip.hiyo is a ship between hi.yori su.zumi and the members of lipx.lip ai.zo and yu.jiro . hiyo/ri is their manager and she's a girl from the countryside who moved to tokyo to study and work on becoming a track and field athelete . lipx/lip are themselves. their relationship in canon is. friends at best. something else at worst. being the little shits they are, lip/lip are nothing short of assholes to hiyo.ri for the majority of their earlier canon interactions. she states multiple times in her stories that they make her feel stupid. while i do think they respect and care for each other as coworkers, i still dislike how they treat her as a person, especially how they put down her feelings. before and after her.oiku where hiyo.ri undergoes a transformation courtesy of lx.l dressing her up so she can confess to another member of the idol series, asu.ka kai.do (discontinued due to the collaborative project ending) — they continue to tell her that had it not been for the pretty dress or the makeup, she wouldn't be worthy of being called a heroine. she wouldn't be a "girl" in their eyes. which is where a lot of the ships stem from.
but wait! you're probably asking yourself, or well, me: "secchan-sensei! lipx.lip bully each other a whole damn lot too! they bicker and they insult each other! wouldn't this put shipping them in the same category as lp/hy?" excellent question! while i understand why people can perceive it similarly, there is one big difference. the idols and hiyori exist in an unbalanced power dynamic. no i do not mean that in a literal sense, but in a social, emotional sense. you said it yourself, lip/lip bully each other! theyre mean and rude and crass and jerks to EACH OTHER. there is a back and forth movement. they bite and bite back, so to speak. while with hiy.ori as you're aware, she swallows her pain and bottles up that sadness and holds back those tears, she never responds or insults them back because she's not that kind of person. above all things, hiyori remains kind to ai and yu but the fact that they hurt her in ways they don't even acknowledge are not mutually exclusive.
if you're familiar with hone.yworks lore, as well as lx.l themselves, you probably know at least an adequate bit of their trauma. to put it simply, a.izo struggles with interacting with women, to the point where he finds them difficult to be with. this is often translated to him hating women, so as an idol with a predominantly female fanbase, this is a big problem. this trauma stems from his mother, who for the greater part of his childhood, was an abusive drunk. not only that, his older brother, whom he looked to for support and comfort when their home life was at their worst, is a playboy who toyed around with women and relationships with hopes of avoiding the loneliness at home. while ken grew out of his issues and ultimately became a better person, his actions growing up had a significant negative effect on ai.zo . he isnt jUst a miSoGyniSt dear fuck
yujiro, on the other hand, is the stepson of national treasure, tamagoro someya, a master of kabuki. his mother, tae, married into the family and he has a younger stepbrother, koichiro. tamagoro very explicitly tells him that he will not inherit the kabuki legacy, stating that he "lacks beauty" and is half-hearted. this is despite the fact that yujiro pushed himself beyond his own strength, to the point of starvation and isolation, all for the sake of pleasing his father — who never intended to acknowledge him in the first place. yujiro remained inadequate, lacking, some part of him, despite his best efforts, would never fit into the beauty of the roles his father had crafted for the stage.
“Father is father, and there’s nothing I can do about that. I think he didn’t have a choice in telling me to give up…”
“…Were you never allowed to stand on the kabuki stage?”
“There’s no way he would have let me. It was only my brother who could have…”
(That’s really messed up…)
If he had no intention of letting him perform on stage, why did he let him practice? It was cruel to put so many expectations on a child, only to rip his hope away from him. (LOVE&KISS novel, Chapter 7) [1]
how is this relevant to hiyori?
then, we talk about the infamous hero.taru anime. now, honeyw.orks anime have this curse where they're either bound to flop incredibly or butcher the characters enough it appeals to a general audience and completely destroys their characters. the hero.taru anime was made to promote lip.x.lip and profit off their popularity in the idol genre showcase hiyo.ri's heroine story. the story spans multiple mvs, from h.eroine iku.sei keikak.u -> her.oine wa hei.kin ika -> her.oine tarum.ono . there's a general difference with as.uka being cut out and replaced with nagisa after he's finally released from the honeyw.orks basement. aaand i'm getting sidetracked. as someone who watched every single anime hnw has put out, i can confidently say...
her.otaru fucking sucks.
despite being an anime centered on hiy.ori's development as a heroine, it overuses fanservice and became a cookie cutter shoujo mixed with a little idol for the views. fuck, the main conflict was literally between lip.xlip's manager and their biggest fan who had a crush on aiz.o . DO YOU SEE MY ISSUE. ok that aside. the anime completely butchers hiyo's character by making her overly dependent on lx.l. not to mention the bathroom scene. ick. the anime also completely butchers lxl by erasing their issues and making them into "just backup male leads if nag.isa doesnt sell well" and he didnt bc he was there for one fucking episode . back to my point, the anime has a particular scene pertaining to their trauma, which i have elaborately expanded above, and dumbs it down to: [2]
bad, right? not the worst butchering of it yet. you see, SOMEHOW, the herota.ru anime made the already fucked hani.wa timeline WORSE by turning yum.e fanf.are into a song about hiyori. i'm going to start tearing and biting bc this frustrated me SO MUCH . yume.fan is a song of aizo and yujiro about their struggles as stated above, and yet it was percieved as a song made to make hiyo.ri fall in love with them.
god ok this is. incredibly long at this point but i have only pierced the surface. lets just get it down to brass tacks. i hate lip.hiyo.
a lot of people came out of hero.taru shipping lip.hiyo after seeing their relationship and interactions in the anime. people tend to ship them with hiyor.i because "sHe's nOt LiKe oThER giRls" . of all the things i hate abt lip.hiyo and the hero.taru anime in general, i hate how it ruins hiyo.ri's character. i hate how they refuse to acknowledge that she enjoys feeling beautiful, she likes being a feminine, she wants to be a heroine — her issues don't lie in her not being beautiful enough to fit in the heroine mold, but the fact that she can be heroine, regardless of how she perceives herself!
well, introspective reasons aside, i hate the ship on a personal basis bc i've recently found out most ppl who ship it are pushing to make people believe it's canon ? like who the fuck does that. ONE, hiyori does have a canon love interest, nag.isa shiran.ami. TWO, they have never even remotely shown any romantic interest to her ??? well fuck i mean if you count calling her derogatory names, telling her she'll never be a girl if she doesn't dress up, or saying she'll never get a romeo if she rejects nagisa counts as flirting then sure i believe you. THREE, you can literally ship it even if it isn't canon. there is nothing stopping you??? it's giving hypocrisy bc a long loooong time ago they were mad at ai.yuu shippers for continuously mentioning their parallels and the possibility of them becoming canon and they called them [BEEEEEP] . you get the point.
negativity aside, at this point i've probably put you through a horror. sorry about that. all in all, i prefer ai.yuu and nagi.hiyo over lp/hy. i dislike het.lip in general because why would you want to inflict this upon any girl. come on. they can do better. im kidding but you get it. ai and yu trust each other more than anyone, they are canonically each other's most important person, and they are equals in persevering to achieve their dreams. THAT is what yume.fan meant [3] . and i like n.ghy bc nagi.sa has had feelings for hiyori for years, even before she dolled herself up, even before she was a manager, he fell in love with hiyori, and no one else — because in his eyes, she's always been a heroine!! "zutto heroine da" - nagi.sa in heroine wa heikin ika [4]
in case for SOME reason this isn't enough, please feel free to peruse the following posts that expand on some particular parts of this: differences between the mvs and anime | the Trauma scene | yume fan.fare's meaning | personal thoughts 1 | personal thoughts 2
CITATIONS:
[1] LOVE&KISS Chapter 7 — translation
[2] He.roine Taru.mono! Kiraware H.eroine to Naisho Os.higoto Anime Episode 4
[3] Yu.me Fan.fare by LIP.×LIP
[4] Her.oine wa Hei.kin Ika by Su.zumi Hiyo.ri (CV: Ino.ri Mi.nase)
#8.28 | ask#yeah. this is an ask and totally not the most comprehensive i have been since my last research project#this is gonna find its way to someone who hates me and it will be so fucking funny actually#SHOUT OUT TO LISI WHO KEPT ME ALIVE WHILE WRITING THIS O7#shout out to ambi too for bringing me such a pleasant ask
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Governmental Power: England vs France
Throughout my studies of the French Revolution, especially when I have been looking at the circumstances surrounding why Louis XVI called the Estates General, I have been wondering about why the French Governmental system was so different to ours, and what had led to their being so utterly different.
The main difference I can see is how centralised the government is. In France in the late 18th c, the governmental power is within the person of the king. When the French monarchy removed from Paris to the Palace of Versailles, the entirety of the major aristocracy moved too, as being physically close to the king meant you had a share in power. Staying in your duchy in the south (for example) would leave you completely out of any governmental decisions. However, in England, thanks to the Magna Carter, when the barons forced the king into enshrining the rights of the nobility in law, the king had to allow the nobility to aid in running the country, even if they were in their own provinces at the time. When the Wars of the Roses started, the nobility were the ones who ruled their own parts of the country, keeping relative law and order whilst the monarchy imploded. Government was decentralised, and although the king still had the majority of the power, delegation was much more common, as a way of keeping the unruly nobles on your side.
So, England had a decentralised governmental system, and France had a centralised one focused on power of the king. But then why was it that the majority of the actions of the Revolution, taking place in Paris, have such a huge effect on the entire country?
If one goes back to the 12th century, then the Early Plantagenet Kings of England not only ruled the British Isles, but also half of France, one can see that the French kings didn’t have a lot of wriggle room in terms of where they could govern from. The traditional seat of Rheims was primarily in English hands (and would fall into them again in the Hundred Years War), so Paris, as a major city situated helpfully on the Seine, seemed a good spot. The fact that the parlements - French Law courts, nothing like our governmental system - were set up there meant that a bond of government between the king and Paris was established. When the King moved to Versailles, Paris might have felt like it’s age old right to the inner workings of government had been stripped from them. With the Revolution itself, Paris becomes the seat of all government, and so the usual ripples of edicts made by the king, and filtering through the rest of France, is replaced by similar ripples made by the Revolutionaries. England never had this problem. Thanks to the nobles being in the countryside, the kings laws were enforced with more rapidity, and although Westminster (now incorporated into London) was the seat of Government, there was never as much of a sense that Government belonged in the Capital, not least because the king travelled around so much, taking the government with him.
There is also the simple fact that England is much smaller than France, so messages could get to the edges of the country quicker.
Another thing to consider is the fact that by the 18th c, England has been through several civil wars where the nobles had fought against the king. This weakens the absolute monarchy to the state where we have a government that is more biased towards a rule by the people, although in practice the rotten boroughs etc meant that Parliament was by no means perfect. To my knowledge, France doesn’t have that. The king is rarely rebelled against, or has his head cut off by the nobles or governmental bodies. The medieval idea of the divine right to rule is never challenged, and as a result, the feudal Estates mean that the government of the country is in the hands of about 5% of the populace, whilst the majority just have to accept the fact there is nothing they can do.
Finally, I would like to point out that the French people, as a result of being unable to have a say in their government for so long, have a history of rioting. The Bastille was built as the direct result of a major Parisien riot in the 13th c, and the Civil War between the Burgundians and the Armagnacs sees Parisiens happily chopping off peoples heads and barricading nobles into their palaces. The only way that the French people know of protesting is by violence. In England, we have the fact that the lords of the manor are more likely to listen to your pleas, common men can be elected to one of the Houses of Parliament. The people have more representation in government, so do not have as much incentive to riot.
If there is anything I have written that is inaccurate, or there is an example I have overlooked, do let me know.
#frev#french revolution#english government#political history#Paris#medieval history#civil war#historical musings
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don’t speak boyshit, Chapter 8
[Read on AO3]
It’s Usokawa who watches those stupid rom-coms, the ones with the hot girl-made-mousy tripping over herself to impress some j-pop idol trying to break into acting, but Kamitani is at least familiar with how this whole thing should go. A girl who weighs eighty pounds soaking wet sits on the rack, stares dreamily out over the countryside, and the boy does all the hard work. Easy.
But apparently no one’s ever bothered to give Inomata that talk. “Stop squirming, you’re not gonna fall off.”
“It’s not like there’s a seat belt back here!” she shrills, ass shifting enough to make the whole damn frame wobble. She’s lucky he’s used to Taka, otherwise they’d be sprawled out in a ditch somewhere, having some real words face-to-face. “If you take a corner too fast I’ll fly right off.”
If only. “No, you won’t.”
“You can’t promise that.” He’s half-tempted to shove her off himself if she can’t keep her butt still and her mouth shut. “The physics doesn’t work out!”
“It does,” he huffs, hating every minute of being right. “There’s centrifugal force or whatever. How gravity works.”
“Don’t you mean centripetal?” Unearned confidence, he’d call it, if she hadn’t placed first in their exams five semesters running.
It was a mistake to ever get on a moving vehicle with Inomata, let alone one where she had to be so close. The last thing she’s ever needed was an invitation to pick at him, and now he’s given her VIP seating. “I said what I said.”
She clucks, loud enough he can hear it over the click of his own gears. “Centrifugal force is fictitious. Centripetal force is what makes gravity work.”
For being wrong, she’s pretty snotty about it. But she can send as many as her little nastygrams as she likes; Kamitani’s the one in control here. All he needs to do is crash this bike, and he can end this conversation at any time. It’s nothing to just shrug it off, let her be wrong--
“You’re lucky I agreed to tutor you,” she sniffs. “You clearly need the help.”
Kamitani hauls his bike short, right in the middle of the bridge.
“What--”
“Google it.” She stares at him, jaw slack, as he shoves his phone into her hands. “I’ll wait.”
“If you think about it.” Inomata trails too close up the front walk; every few steps she jogs his elbow, and god, he’s never wanted to slam the door on someone harder. “It’s really both forces working together that make up the concept we think of as gravity.”
It’s a miracle he doesn’t; a real legendary effort that keeps his hand out to let her pass through. “It’s not.”
She can’t even toe her shoes off like a normal person; oh no, Inomata sits down all primly on the lip of the genkan, knees pressed together like he cares what’s under her skirt, and gently works them off her feet. “It is.”
Kamitani doesn’t fucking care about physics, he doesn’t. And he especially doesn’t care about having a fight about terms first years should be familiar with. But he sees her stupid loafers sitting neatly in the tray next to his scuffed up sneakers, the way that old hag is always nagging them they should, and the next thing out of his mouth is, “Not unless you’re moving in a circle, or whatever.”
“A curve describes part of a circle’s circumference,” she informs him, as if he didn’t score higher than her in the general science exams. Not that he wanted to; that hag had been holding his recording of last summer’s Koshien and promised to bring it straight to the curb if he didn’t make it up on the board this year. “Which is what a turn is.”
There’s a part of him that’s tempted to prick at her-- what about when you’re at a light? Ninety degrees doesn’t describe any circle I know. He can hear her huff now, tinny in the small space, arms all folded up as if he’s the problem. I meant in motion, she would say, and he’d have to bite his cheek to keep from grinning when he clapped back with, but that’s not what you said. It’d be easy as breathing to get her all riled up, to make her stamp her foot and calling him a bull-headed idiot, and any other day he might, just to see her lose that Teacher’s Pet polish--
But it’s too weird when she’s just standing in her socks in his genkan, one toe shyly scratching at her calf. Her too-long fingers flex against her skirt like she’s some sort of character from a game without an idle animation, just hanging around waiting for player input.
“Come on,” he grumbles, putting his back to her. “This way.”
The thing about Inomata is: she’s all limb. Not in a sexy way like the girls in magazines, all long legs and wide eyes and parted lips. No, she’s lanky, with elbows and knees that by law should be registered as weapons. Kamitani’s taken one of two of them before-- by accident, she always insists, like he can’t see the gleam in her eyes-- and he’s convinced: she’s got to be some sort government project, the kind where they graft blades onto bones because one nudge from that girl could draw blood.
So when she trails him down the hall, he expects carnage; a boar let loose in a house made of paper. Broken vases, pictures hanging askew, dents in the drywall-- all of it would have surprised him less than silence. Enough that he wonders if she got lost somehow; it’s not like his house is hard to navigate, not with it’s single hallway connecting the whole downstairs, but he wouldn’t put it past her to need some gold embossed invitation just to get out of the genkan.
But there she is, just a few steps behind him, quietly padding along the hardwood in her knee socks. They’re ridiculous without her shoes on, her legs whittled down to matchsticks between the elastic around her calves and the hem at her knees. She’d look like a little kid if she wasn’t so long, made worse by the way her arms are clamped to her side, just one thin line from the floor to her head.
The old hag must have put something in his curry, since it’s not sitting so pretty now, rocking in his gut like it’s got its own tides. Hell if he knows what solar body’s causing it. It’s stupid; here’s Inomata, finally keeping her mouth shut, and he can’t even enjoy it.
“My room’s upstairs.” His arm swings out toward the staircase, and, god, he might as well step into some mascot costume and spell it out too for how cool he’s looking right now. “Over here.”
At least only Inomata’s around to see it. It’s not as if she pays attention to half of what he says anyway.
He gets one step up, glancing back to make sure she’s going to follow his lead-- last thing he needs is Inomata getting it into her head to look around or whatever-- and she’s just...staring at him. Wide-eyed, too, like he told her exams don’t matter after graduation, or that Kashima’s already had his first kiss, or--
“MOM.” Taka speeds out of the kitchen, shrieking at a decibel only dogs and big brothers can hear. There’s a plastic bag balled up in his hands, whatever’s inside lost in the mess. “MOM. You gotta open--” he skids to a stop, wide-eyed and inches away from collision-- “you’re not mom.”
“N-no.” Inomata’s shoulders roll back, her spine pulling flagpole straight, and whoever that cringing girl following him before was, she’s all gone now. Well, except for that splotchy disaster of a blush that’s still slapped across her face, turning the tips of her ears a red he could cook eggs on. “I’m definitely not.”
Taka’s got eyes so big they already eat up all the real estate on his face, but they go even bigger now, threatening to annex his forehead. “Inomata-nee-sama! Are you in my house?”
“Ah...” He watches her struggle not to look at him, to ask him to help the way he always has to when his brother gets too excited over people, like small dogs do when the front door rings. “It does look like that, er, doesn’t it?”
Taka grins so bright Kamitani nearly winces from the glare. One of his small hands seizes hers, tangling his bag between them. “Really? Kirin-chan’s going to be so jealous. Do you want to see my Ranger Five collection? I’ve got all of them, even Ranger Yellow, who has super lame powers but I felt bad leaving her--”
Kamitani flicks him on the back of the head. Not hard-- the little shit may not look like much, but Kamitani’s learned the hard way: kids his age don’t know how to hold back-- but enough to finally knock the motor out of his mouth. “Buzz off, brat. She’s not here to look at your stupid toys.”
“They’re not stupid, they’re super cool!” Taka stamps his foot too, like that helps his case. “Better than any toys in your room.”
He lets his scowl stretch into a sneer. “That’s real rich coming from the kid who’s been begging to have a turn on the playstation in there.”
“W-what? That doesn’t count!” Taka glances between them, suspicious. “You aren’t going to play on it are you? If you are, I wanna wa--”
“We’re not playing anything,” Kamitani snaps. “Go watch your Lame Five or whatever.”
“It’s Ranger Five!” His cheeks puff out, not quite as big as they used to be, but still begging to be poked. “And if you’re not playing, then what are you doing?”
“None of your business,” he grunts, unfortunately at the same time Inomata shrills out, “Studying?”
Ugh. This is what’s wrong with only children: they don’t know how to tell a kid to scram.
“Oh.” To his annoyance, Taka only looks thoughtful, shifting back and forth on his feet until he sidles up to the lowest stair. “Can I come?”
Kamitani fits his whole hand over his brother’s face, and with full feeling, shoves. “No.”
“H-hey!” Taka splutters as he pounds up the rest of the stairs, Inomata skittishly following behind him. “I’ll tell Mom!”
“Good luck,” he grunts back, shaking his head as he hits the landing. “She’s not going to be home until late, and your memory is shitty.”
“You better not play anything without me!” His shrill little voice bounces up the stairs, amplified a hundred times by the time Kamitani gets to the top, rattling his teeth in his skull. “Or you’ll be in trouble.”
He huffs as he turns the corner, muttering, “When am I not?”
“Is that something you should worry about?” Whatever spine Inomata found in front of Taka, she must have left on the stairs. She’s back to shuffling behind him, watching each door they pass as if it might leap out and bite her.
Kamitani cranes his neck over his shoulder, annoyed. “What?”
One of her skinny shoulders shrugs, a shadow beneath the surface of her shirt. “You know. Taka telling Kamitani-sensei that I was here.”
It’s no good. No matter how long he looks, he can’t figure out what’s wrong with her. Besides, well, being Inomata. “What’s wrong with that? It’s not like she’ll figure out you have a crush on Kashima from--”
“Ah! Not-- not that!” Her hands wave in front of her, like just being weird might shush him up better than acting like a functional person. “I mean that you’ll have had a girl in your room. Unsupervised!”
He blinks. “Who?”
Inomata stares right at him, putting a hand over her school tie and clearly enunciating, “Me?”
Even the old hag and her over-active imagination isn’t stupid enough to look at that regulation-length skirt and the blouse buttoned up to its last hole, bow still crisply tied even after club, and think, I bet boys want to do more than study with her. But he knows better than to say so when Inomata’s notes are on the line. “It’ll be fine.”
The noise she makes isn’t thunder, but it’s the mark of a storm moving in quick. He puts his back to her all the same, reaching for his door. “What do you mean, ‘it’s fine?’ Do you really think--?”
Inomata’s protests grind to a halt, watching with growing horror as his door swings wide and-- “You live like this?”
For a minute, he worries that Taka already got into his stuff today, the way that old hag always lets him, leaving candy smeared into his carpet and game cases strewn across the floor. But he glances in, and it looks like it always does. A little cluttered, sure, but he’s seen worse. “What?”
“It’s a sty,” she snaps, slouch gone with a sniff. “Don’t you have a hamper? There’s clothes everywhere. How you ever have people in here is beyond me. Do you really--?”
She startles when his hand smacks the door, holding it open for her. “Get in already”
“I couldn’t possibly.” Her scoff grates like nails on a chalkboard. “There isn’t even a place to--”
On the field, it’s a move that would have put him on the benches. But there’s no ref here, just him and Inomata, so when she sways that bare inch in front of him, her arms all crossed like the state of his room is an affront to all of Japan, he just..bumps her. A little. Enough that she stumbles, socked foot catching on a T-shirt from last weekend, gets right at the center of it all.
“Better make yourself at home.” His lips peel back from his teeth in nothing like a smile. “Because I’m sure as hell not cleaning up for you.”
“I don’t know what the big problem is,” Kamitani grumbles, plucking another t-shirt off the floor. “It’s clean. Look, you can even see the floor.”
There are bugs that have gotten friendlier expressions than the one he gets from Inomata. “You have to be kidding me. There’s a pair of day-old b-b--” her voice drops to a hiss-- “underwear right there.”
“That’s not from yesterday.” Her bumps past her-- not his fault, she’s the one standing in the middle of his room, making herself as useful as a traffic cone on the grass-- and scoops the offending article off the floor, giving it a sniff. “Yeah, that’s got to be Friday. At least.”
If that girl glared any harder, those eyes would pop right out of her head. “And you just left it there?”
“Sure.” He grabs another set of boxers, hidden by the last pair, before she can catch a glimpse. “It’s not like I was expecting anyone to invite themselves over.”
That gets a blush out of her, at least, even if it doesn’t slow her scold. “Neither do I, but I at least keep it neat! Your hamper is only two feet away, for goodness’ sake.”
He glances up at her from his crouch, and snorts, “You haven’t been in many boys’ rooms, have you?”
Scrawny shoulders hike up, a surly little picket by her ears. “Of course not.”
“Well, take it from me,” he huffs, flicking his duvet over his sheets, smoothing it out all nice. “This is about as good as it gets.”
“I doubt that.” Her head tosses, sending that haystack of hair wild, strands flying out every which way. “Kashima-kun hardly seems like the sort of person to leave his, er, unmentionables out where someone could see them.”
“Kashima doesn’t count.” He wouldn’t leave his boxers out if the headmistress might see them either. Or worse, Saikawa. “Did you come here just to nag me or what?”
She blinks. “What?”
With one last trip to the hamper, Kamitani drops into his desk chair, spread-legged and weary. “You wanted help with your boy stuff or whatever, didn’t you? So what does this whole tutor thing involve?”
For a long moment she just stares at him, lips pressed tight and toes curled into his carpet, and he thinks this is it, that she’s going to lose the courage that got her through the door and just bolt, but--
But instead, she bursts. “And just where am I supposed to sit now?”
Honestly, if it’s not one thing it’s the other with this girl. “I made my bed.”
Smoothed it out too, all nice like how the old hag nags him to do it, no bunched sheets making lumps beneath it. And yet, Inomata isn’t impressed. “I can’t sit there!”
“Why not?” His hands hook behind his head as he leans back, trying to catch something like an answer in her scowl. “You don’t think I’d actually try--?”
“Of course not,” she snorts. “But I know what boys get up to on their beds. There’s probably all sorts of...boy gunk on there.”
His sheets were washed just last week, but the way she sneers at his perfectly clean duvet makes him hold that little tidbit of information to his chest. “Are you sure you want a boyfriend?”
“What?” There’s the blush again, rising up all uneven across her face like a rash. “I didn’t say--!”
“Even Kashima’s going to have gunk.” Though it makes him feel gross thinking about it. “So if that’s a deal breaker, then maybe you should quit while you’re behind. Save us both some time.”
The glare she levels at him would make Usokawa piss himself, but Kamitani just tilts his chin; a dare. And by the puff of her cheeks, she doesn’t miss it.
“Fine.” How the word grinds out from teeth clenched so hard they creak is nothing short of a miracle. She takes one hobbling step, then another, and with a sigh nothing short of resigned, she perches herself on the corner of his comforter, legs crossed at the ankle. “There. Happy now?”
“Would have thought I’d be the one asking you that,” he grunts, bracing his hands on his knees. “After all, you’re the one with the big ideas here.”
“Excuse me?”
Her eyelashes flutter-- confused, not cute-- and his palms itch. Right at the center of them, impossible to scratch. “You’ve got something in mind, don’t you? A whole fucking binder filled with dumb ideas sorted by colored tab?”
“Ah...” That stupid flush spreads down her neck, disappearing under the stiff line of her collar. “Right, yes, of course...”
“You do, right?” Hands give way to elbows as he leans forward, curry sinking like a stone in his gut. “You’re not just going to give up your notes with no plan.”
“Of course not!” She scowls, reaching into her bag. “It’s not really a binder, not yet, but I did throw this together a day or two ago. It’s really more of a, er, thought exercise than anything else.”
He doesn’t get a good glance at it, not until she shoves it into his hands, the thin paper powdery against his fingertips. “What’s this? A...test booklet?”
“It’s just fifty of the questions I thought would be most helpful at the beginning of this project.” She strives to sound normal about it, but Kamitani catches the gleam in her eye, the victorious flush across her cheeks. This is nerd shit. “If you could just fill it out and return it to me, then I’ll be in a much better position to analyze what I need to work on and come back with a plan that--”
“You made a test? You want me to take tests?” He skims the first few pages, bile burning in his throat with every question he reads. Explain your type in ten words or less. What are the three most important criteria in a romantic partner? Describe the perfect date, using as much detail as possible. “And they’re not even multiple choice!”
Her hands wave, more cajoling than denial. “It’s not a test! It’s data collection. There’s no right or wrong answer, I just need you to answer to the best of your ability. This one isn’t going to be graded, so--”
“Graded.” He should have known better than to tangle with Inomata and tutoring. “You’re going to grade me.”
“No, no, it’s not an assessment! Or, well, it is, but it’s not about what you don’t know, but rather, what I...” Her mouth purses. “It’s just your opinions. Preliminary data so I can see where my knowledge is most insufficient. It wouldn’t really make sense if I was the one grading you, now would it?”
The booklet snaps shut-- at least, as much as the pages will let it, making more of a shush than a snap. “So I’m gonna grade you?”
“Well, er...” She squirms, his duvet dimpling beneath her, and it’s weirdly distracting, her just sitting there, thighs squeezed together. “I expect there will be a, uh, practical portion of the curriculum?”
He stares. “Practical...?”
“Yes!” Her head bobs, too enthusiastic. “Though I suppose that would have to be on a rubric. What’s measured can be improved, after all.”
“But what would I...? Her groans, rubbing at the spot that pounds between his eyebrows. “Did you want kissing lessons or something?”
Inomata’s eyes bulge. “What? No! Why would I--? With you--? Have you ever even kissed anyone?”
Kamitani doesn’t blush, he doesn’t, but the skin under his collar still burns, licking up the side of his neck to the tips of his ears. “No.”
“Then why would I ever..?” It’s terrible how her words hang, stoppered up by that suspicious squint. “Did you want there to be kissing lessons?”
“What? Hell no!” He shifts back in his seat with a grunt, crossing his arms with as much denial as he can manage. “I just asked so I could tell you it wasn’t going to happen.”
“Good.” Her mouth rucks up into a mean little knot, and god, how she ever thought anyone would want to kiss her, he’ll never know. “I wouldn’t even if you wanted to.”
“Well, I don’t, so--” he reins himself in with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So what would I be grading you on?”
“Ah...” All that confidence disappears with a cough, her shoulders inching up to her ears. “I hadn’t really thought about the specifics. But, er, I suppose whatever you’d expect a girlfriend to do...?”
Kamitani stares. “So you do want kissing?”
“No!” It’s kind of funny, the way she flushes this time. Not like her usual, all patchy and red, but an almost delicate pink, just sitting at the peak of her cheekbones. “I meant things that would be expected of someone in a relationship-- ah, besides that,” she snaps, when he fails to smother a laugh. “The sort of things that make a guy think it wouldn’t be so bad if maybe...”
Her brain must catch up to her mouth, because all at once she stops, cheeks flaring that stop-light red. “Ah...” she sighs, smothering the sound in her shoulder. “Never mind. Maybe it’s better if we just keep to--”
“Stuff that makes you attractive right?” It’s stupid, really, to feel bad for a girl like Inomata. But those big eyes of hers peek over the pickets of her shoulders, so wary of the smallest bit of help, and well-- it’s no skin off his nose to push through, to pretend like he didn’t just watch her lose every ounce of brazenness that got her this far. “Makes a guy see a girl as a woman, or whatever. Wants to bring her home to his mom and stuff.”
“I...” She clears her throat, smoothing her skirt over the spread of her thighs, right down to her knees. “Right, yeah. That. Stuff like, er...”
“Making bentos.” It’s the sort of thing Usokawa would jaw off about when he was deep into one of those stupid manga. “Going on dates. Good conversation.”
Inomata sighs, relieved. “Yes, exactly like that.”
“Good,” he grunts. “Because I can’t do anything about your rack or whatever.”
It’s weird; after all the shy shuffling she’s done this afternoon, he’s almost relieved to see her scowl. “I wasn’t going to ask you to! I’m already well-aware that I don’t really have the, um...” Inomata glances down, grimacing. “...Assets to compete on that front.”
As much as he’s tried to keep out of girl stuff, Kamitani’s heard girls talk about themselves. My butt’s too flat, my stomach’s all round, my face is so skinny, and I sat out too long this summer and now I’m all tan. It’s endless the way they edit themselves, trying to fit into some weird idea of what a guy wants-- like they don’t know they could have dog paws and three-fourths of the guys he knows would still want to hook up-- but at least they seem like they care about what they’re complaining about. Involved, even. Inomata just sounds...
Tired.
“Girls aren’t just breasts or whatever.” He doesn’t know why he says it. It’s not like he cares about Inomata’s feelings. But when she looks up at him, startled, he adds, “There’s other stuff that matters.”
Good tits help though. Not that he’ll say that, not when she’s looking at him like-- like that. Like he’s said what she needs to hear. “Oh...thanks.”
“Sure.” He shrugs. “You’ve got legs too.”
Whatever good feelings he’s earned evaporate in a groan. “You’re such a dog.”
“So? I’m seventeen.” His chin tilts back, just enough that he catches her eye. “We’re all dogs. Even Kashima.”
By the purse of her lips, she’s not precisely convinced. Fair, Kamitani’s not so sure on that either. Sure, any normal red-blooded guy his age would turn his head for any flash of girl flesh, but Kashima--
Well, Kamitani’s not really sure what his deal is, but it’s survived several cute girls throwing themselves at him, so non-existant‘s the likeliest option. Or maybe he’s just never asked the right questions, and Kashima’s a total freak. One of the reasons the kid’s so tolerable is because they never fucking talk about this stuff.
“Fine,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “Whatever. What subject do you need help with the most?”
He watches her rummage through her bag, eyebrows hiked up toward his hairline. “Really? That’s it?”
“Filling out that questionnaire alone is enough work to earn a study session, and since I can’t make a lesson plan until you finish it...” She shrugs, lugging some huge binder onto her lap. “Which subject?”
He’s not convinced they’re even, but, well, it’s not his problem if she wants to grab the short end of this stick. “English.”
“Mom.” Taka says the word with as much seriousness as a six year old can muster. It still makes him sound like a muppet, especially around a mouthful of rice. “Nii-chan said my memory was shitty.”
Her hand flashes out, cuffing Kamitani on the ear; not hard enough to hurt, but he does lose the strip of meat between his chopsticks. “What’s wrong with you? I’ve told you not to talk like that.”
“I’ll talk how I want,” he grunts, fishing through his stew to find another likely piece. It’s beef tonight; he’s not about to waste it all by filling up on vegetables and rice. “Besides, his memory is shitty.”
“He does have you there.” The hag tilts her head, too thoughtful. “What were you supposed to remember, anyway?”
The little shit’s cheeks bulge out around his dinner. “I forget!”
Kamitani rolls his eyes. Typical. "You’re such a pain. Why’d you even say anything?”
“I wanted to get you in trouble,” he says like it’s obvious. Which it is; he just didn’t expect the brat to come out an admit it. Not in front of the hag, at least.
“Whatever.” He stands with a grunt, shoveling stew into his mouth. “I’m out of here.”
That old witch squints up at him, mouth already puckered around whatever excuse she’s conjured up to stop him. “Just where do you think you’re going? You haven’t even finished eating.”
“I have stuff to do.”
“More important than dinner?” One eyebrow raises, practically dripping with suspicion. “Have you been screwing around with your games again instead of doing your homework? I told you I’d put that thing on the curb if you--”
“No, it’s done.” Or at least as done as it’s gonna get, even with Inomata’s notes. But there’s an exam’s worth of useless questions burning a hole in the corner of his desk, and they’re not about to answer themselves. That girl may have told him to take his time, but he knows exactly what sort of scene will be waiting for him if he doesn’t turn them in by first period. “Just...stuff. None of your business.”
It’s a mistake; the hag straightens up all at once, a storm brewing at her brow line, and he mouth opens--
“I remember!” Taka shouts, hopping out of his seat. “Nii-chan had a girl in his room.”
“Shut up,” he snaps, at the same time his mom asks, “Hayato?”
It’s surprising, he’ll give her that, but she doesn’t need to sound so incredulous about it.
“Yeah!” The little brat sits back down, smug over the mess on his plate. “Inomata-nee-sama was here.”
She whips around to stare at him, brows hovering at her hairline. “Inomata-san?”
“Yeah.” He shrugs, all casual, like it’s obvious. “We were studying.”
“You were...studying?” She settles back in her seat, too thoughtful. “I suppose that could be true...since it’s Inomata-san...”
“You told me to take exams seriously this year, didn’t you?” If he hears another word about good universities and the kind of scores it takes to get in them, it’ll be too soon. “Who else was I going to ask?”
“Honestly, I just thought you were going to blow it off again, and I’d have to listen to that ass--” she darts a glance at where Taka sits, happily anticipating the punishment his tattling had bought-- “to some people at work tell me that you would have done better if you’d been raised in a more disciplined household.”
It’s habit that makes his hands clench, skin pulling so tight against his knuckles he sees bone. The hag’s not looking, not right at him, but he shoves them in his pockets anyway. “Has he said that to you? That it’s your fault.”
“Not in so many words. But I’m sure he would, if...” Her shoulder lifts in a sad excuse for a shrug, and suddenly Kamitani’s aware why she always nags at him for doing it. It’s obnoxious. “It doesn’t matter.”
It does. Sure, he’s got complaints a kilometer long about the hag’s parenting style, but it’s a damn sight better than anything that loser could come up with. If he thinks he can get on Mom’s case just because of a few points shaved off for sloppy math, well--
“That’s not what we’re talking about.” The hag waves her hand, like that’s enough to dispell the sour specter in the room. “We’re talking about you. And Inomata-san. Studying.”
“It’s not a big deal.” Even as he says it, she leans closer, inspecting every angle of his face. “Cut that out! I told you, she just came over to lend me some notes. For English. I was having trouble with the grammar.”
Her eyes narrow, but she sits back anyway, running her gaze over him like she’d find the truth if only she could turn out his pockets.
“Fine,” she hums with a chuck of her chin. “Sounds likely enough.”
“Good.” It’s little more than a grunt. “Because that’s what happened.”
“I do have one question though.” The old hag tips forward onto her hand, mouth twitching into an all too knowing smile. “Did you keep the door open?”
#inokami#inomata x kamitani#gakuen babysitters#gakubaby#inomata maria#maria inomata#hayato kamitani#kamitani hayato#my fic#don't speak boyshit#future fic#year three#idiots to lovers#slow burn#dating lessons#this whole chapter was an exercise in restraint because BOY did I want Kamitani to have an awakening#but the angel on my shoulder was like NO. the burn is SLOW#he must only be weirded out#and annoyed by her presence#but soon. SOON. the feelings will appear#and he will be belligerent about not looking directly at them#but for now they are mincing toward being friends
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Ah yes, space. I’ve always lived my life thinking that i was the type of person that didn’t really take up much space. Physical size aside, I had always lived in rather small places. Well small compared to the average american. I ate so little, did so little, and consumed really so little compared to my peers. When people talked about how compact Taiwan and most East Asian cities were, i figured space and size would be no problem. But even with how tiny i thought I was I realized that westerners, especially were raised used to a certain degree of space that just didn’t exist here unless you were very rich or lived in the countryside. Like I’m used to sharing a room but i’ve always lived in a situation where i was home a lone alot. So I could go in the living room and sprawl out all of my stuff and have a large space to exist in. Even though it was small compared to most Americans it was rather large. I had no clue, I never had that sort of perspective. Or if I was walking around I always sorta expected to have a big sidewalk to walk around on and to be far away from everything. Or if I wanted to listen to music I didn’t need to use headphones, or if i walked around with a drink it wasn’t a big issue. But here you really can’t carry much around with you, or if you do you need to be careful about those around you, because every space is shared. Its things like being in a small classroom and dropping your stuff because the desk is too small to fit all of our books, pens and everything. Or things like buying food on the street and expecting to eat it when you get back home because theres nowhere to sit. If you sit on the side of the road and eat you will very likely spill unless you are very careful. And I was never a very careful, graceful person even back in the US when I had so much space afford to me. So being here right now I often feel very embarrassed about how much space I take up. Like I know obviously there’s nothing wrong with that, obviously we all deserve space, but it’s more embarrassing how visibly Western i am. Like i’ve gotten adjusted to this aspect of living in Taipei quite a bit but man, somedays it really gets to me. Like i’m such a disorganized and clumsy person, those are not sins by any means but man do I feel strange about it. Like I wish I could just be better at living in a more organized, well planned out way. But everything I do feels sloppy and like it messes up the people around me. I shouldn’t care about that, I should only are about me but when it’s a constant feeling, I can’t help but notice it. It makes me realize how the US is so different from a lot of the world.
I feel like this lack of space affects me a lot more than i realize. I get really frustrated about it sometimes. Like I want to goplaces and do things but like I feel like it’s so inconvenient to eat or to go study or go out and draw and as such all I really do sometimes is stay on my phone and it’s so… yea. I’ve been going through a massive art block recently too. It feels like nothing I draw looks good, or I can’t bring myself to make any art because I can’t allow myself to be messy and occupy an ugly space in my sketchbook. I want it all to be beautiful but since it isn’t, i just don’t draw and don’t draw and as of recent the only thing I do is write in my journal. And I love writing too but sometimes I think that too much introspection is a bad thing for me and it makes me more miserable than happy. I just want to have the space to exist, or to get rid of the part of my that is embarrassed to be myself in the presence of others. But I’m still bothered by it, and being here has def exacerbated that fear I’ve always had of being too much. This isn’t to say that Taipei is a bad place, its great. It wasn’t healthy for me to have this fear anyways, if I stayed in the US I’d def still have this latent tendency to make myself small, but now I moreso need to learn to accept myself as it is. My issues are just being pointed out to me because I can no longer have the advantage of knowing my surroundings to a T. Now I’m in a new place and I can’t hide from myself anymore. So I have to lay it bare and make peace with it. That’s good but it’s just a bit miserable. But i’ll be okay. I’ll figure it out. I just need to verbalize it and none of my friends are picking up and I don’t want to sit at my desk and physically write so this one will go onto the internet for everyone to see.
#🐌.txt#this was prompted by me getting on the bus with all my stuff and just feeling so unomfortable and yea... but its good.#i wanted to stay at starbucks but I just didn't have all my art stuff so I couldn't draw properly so now i'm just home and i'll make it work
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👁⭐️💊 :)
Honey, I genuinely didn’t remember the ask game came with emojis and I spent the past ten minutes trying to decipher these emojis (I start drugs? i see your star on drugs? a secret message about the sacklers and the power of friendship?)
Secret of Life ⭐ — What is a dark secret of the universe that you would give anything to know?
oh no. oh no. i i definitely would have eaten the fruit in eden btw. i would honestly love to know if the loch ness monster was ever real. maybe, more generally, the reality of certain historical events/mysteries. but i really want to know what heaven is like.
Back from the Edge 💊 — What is the closest you have ever come to death?
i went to peru when i 19 with a big group of college students and we had to take a bus trip through the countryside. there was a first class part of the bus and an economy class that sat on the upper level. and the youngest people on the trip had to go to economy. so basically a group of four of us had to sit up top with this really big window that felt like you were essentially sitting on top of the driver.
and this driver was iNsAnE. like we CAREENED through the countryside for, like, six hours. animals were killed, i swear to god, some dogs definitely and possibly a llama. we actually went past a pack of running horses (i think they were wild) and we zoomed right past them (okay, maybe this isn't weird for a motor vehicle but it felt crazy at the time). and at first, we thought it was a distorted impression of being so high up with such a view until we started getting back into actual cities. we went through a city where there were large ditches on either side of the road that we teetered on the edge of. like my body was tipped at a different angle in my seat. unrelated but also i saw a man on a bicycle get thrown into the ditch by an opening car door which had nothing to do with us but added to the increasing stress levels of everyone on top of the bus. there was a pile of trash on FIRE that we drove over. let me repeat: it was on FIRE. and we drove over it in a gas-powered vehicle. we reached the parking lot where we were to disembark which was closed off with a chain and the bus driver almost didn't stop for the attendant to unhook it...this man was prepared to just bulldoze through a literal metal barrier.
we all got off the bus and all the people who had sat in the nicer seats down below were completely ignorant to this. they had tvs in their seats like an airplane and had all watched finding nemo.
meanwhile, my friend lara and i got off the bus like this:
The Balancer’s Eye 👁️🗨️ — What do you think is the one unforgiveable sin?
oh! i like to think that most things are forgivable and unless the sin is committed against me...then i guess i don't have a say in what people should forgive or not. i think there are certain things that i find sad or really bad that maybe are unusual. i think sins where you erase someone's personhood, like the evidence of who people are for an assumption of who or what they are, is a unique cruelty. especially against children? i think people who don't realize that they hurt people...not in a small way...but like, big ways are really sad. i think embarrassing someone even if they "deserve" it is horrible--I don't get a lot of pleasure out of "owning" someone. but i guess--repeating the same sin over and over again? like, lack of character growth, i suppose. like, we have certain tendencies in our personality--selfishness, greed, sloth--and that's unavoidable...but i think, i forgive very easily and that's because it's in the hope that the grace that i extend to someone else gives them an opportunity to learn and grow and because it's what i would want and need to learn and grow. this sounds very condescending when i write it out, i think...but i think you'll understand what i'm saying. BUT if you're routinely hurting people in the same ways and you're not making efforts to change...then there's nothing to forgive? like that's a wasted gift.
What about you?
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phd student here (just advanced to candidacy): i honestly feel like academia is meant to break us. my first advisor bullied me into almost committing suicide, and it's been ROUGH... but that said? i think you finishing your degree in spite of everything matters so fucking much. both on a grand scale (academia needs more people from "untraditional" educational and life experiences) and a minor scale (proving something to yourself and to the people around you who've played a part in breaking you). i believe in you because i believe in me. fighting is hard, but sometimes things turn a corner when you least expect it—networking at a conference i didn't even want to go to accidentally solved a big gap in my advising situation.
sending all the best vibes in your direction. you are smart, capable, and will end up in the right place eventually. academia destroys souls, and you're not alone. ❤️
Hey ❤️❤️
I like seeing it from that side. Maybe not doing it AS well as I could have if I'd have the circumstances other ppl write theirs in (I started mine first with a rejection of my initial topic,then switching to a topic I had taken NO courses or associated courses on, and all of this while I had the very real concerns I might have cervical cancer as a trans man... the day I found out I didn't was the day I found out my supervisor would be leaving, leaving me with about 10 weeks to write a MA thesis which obvs didn't happen and then shit REALLY hit the fan). I wouldn't consider anyone else's grade under my circumstances a true reflection of what they're worth, either. I should add that my MA program is a research master, preparing you for academia and after which you'd move on to a 3-4 yr PhD program in my country. If your grades and project are good enough, of course. Mine? Aren't.
I applied to some PhD programs last yr but only major/big name unis and I think that might have been a mistake too. I had an interview and everyone there sounded so smart, had so much background, and I'm from the countryside with parents that barely finished their high schools (with levels that wouldn't get anyone into uni).
But yeah. You're right. In the end this is one grade, and it's a passing grade, and I... I mean I won't get into a big name uni with this rn and I don't think I wanna pursue a PhD rn anyway just because of all the pain but also the backlog I have compared to everyone else there. I just really wanna figure out a way to stay involved in academia without ending up in this locked down situation where, as you say, there's an attempt to break down everyone that doesn't fit the way the established order thinks we should.
It's just super difficult to keep believing in yourself when you're turned down and turned away at every junction in your life. After so many years (I'm 31 now) it's just. There's a point where it feels too much. At the same time I took an entrance exam to uni at 21 which I failed, and which I took to be a sign I shouldn't pursue uni at all. Clearly I was wrong there. I just.
I just wish there were more ways of learning than just the one specific kind universities (and high schools for that matter) dictate rn.
I also wish you the best of luck in your own degree, now and in the future! I know a PhD is another step up from a MA and I cannot imagine how rough it must've been for you especially with your first advisor. You don't deserve that (and lbr no one does). If you ever want a listening ear abt what you're working on, even if it's something I know nothing about, feel free to contact me!
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7, 8, and 14 for the pride asks :)
Hi there! :)
7. Are you the "token" queer person in your family?
As far as I'm aware yes, at least I'm the only one who's out and a lot of relatives have made it clear they perceive me as the odd one out, but then again I only know a fraction of my family so I really can't say
8. Describe your gender without using any words traditionally related to gender:
"Error 404: Not Found"
14. How do you think other factors like neurodivergency or upbringing have impacted your identity?
(This one ran long, sorry! And thank you for asking it, it was very fun to answer!)
My parents are ND too, no matter how much they're in denial over it half the time, and I think it showed in the way they raised me with hardly a thought for gender stereotypes until puberty hit and my dad got all overprotective about it. I think they also don't understand gender as well as they think, because what they say doesn't match up with what they do. Especially as far as gender roles go, you can see it's a learned thing and not quite something they understand because it's absolutely not consistent across the board, and that really bled over onto the way they raised me. You can probably imagine how confused I was when other people, particularly at school, started expecting me to conform to certain ideas in regards to my behavior and tastes.
It definitely took a long while for my autistic ass to even get it lmao and I think both of these things play a huge part in the way I understand gender as a concept only in relation to other people and the way they identify and define themselves. Encountering the word "agender" was even more a revelation than "non-binary" was, and honestly such a relief. Same for asexual and aromantic. As much as I am a big language nerd overall and love to read, defining myself in single word labels was a big struggle for a while, and had the same flavor as struggling with finding the right words to express myself and my emotions in my daily life, which is one of the things that first made me relate with posts about autism. Figuring out I'm autistic helped me understand my identity and how I function the same way figuring out my gender identity and orientation did, and it's all something I'd never have bothered to do if I hadn't felt the need to find people I belonged with when many pushed me away or questioned who I was. Hell, I never thought of questioning my orientation until my friends in high school talked about being straight/gay/bi (the only three labels they knew) and asked me my preferences. My immediate response was a confused "I can't just... Idk, like people??" in part because growing up in very tiny countryside villages, I wasn't really exposed to queerness as a concept for a while, and what thoughts I may have had on the subject were filed under "marked for later", and in part because when the question came up I only had some vague thought that maybe gender had nothing to do with liking someone or not.
Same goes for being aspec and poly, my flavor of neurodivergency comes with being somewhat confused about people and feelings and emotions most of the time, and it took a long while for me to have some idea of what I felt and wanted. But getting there came along with meeting some truly lovely folks, and spending hours talking about it together and finding out we had so much in common.
In conclusion, I'd say my neurodivergency absolutely plays a part in the way I perceive and understand things, including every queer label I identify with, but really all of the above is interconnected in a way that feels very much like the chicken and egg question. And my upbringing at least let me grow up in a space where, more often than not (at least when puberty wasn't getting in the way of my parents' behavior towards me), I didn't feel like I had to think about gender, and I believe that helped me be comfortable with that the way I am now, as an adult.
#ask game#pride ask#it's late and i probably should have left this for tomorrow#as you can see from the rambling answer and possibly typos and other weird structure where i went back in with edits#but it was very fun to answer and think about!
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Chapter 4: The HECU Foundation
Angel Fallen: The Chronicles of the Legion has been canned and will no longer be updated
The sun had reached its highest point in the sky when the Legion arrived at their next destination - Evo City. Perched on a faraway hill overlooking the bustling city, the Legion stood alert. The winds at that height were strong, billowing across the gathered angels like blades of grass. It was a refreshing breeze after enduring the blistering heat of Hell.
Rudra stood beside Larimar, who was mulling over a long scroll of parchment, occasionally mumbling to himself as he read.
“Are you sure this is the place?” Rudra asked, glancing at her multi-eyed brother.
“If I’m reading this right? Yep, this is it. Shadiel was assigned to a place called Evo City, and this is the only Evo City around.”
“Where did you even get those papers?” Rudra queried with an arched brow.
“While I was looking in Lucifer’s basement, I found a bunch of plans that he had stashed away for the Rapture,” Larimar explained matter-of-factly. “I already knew some of this from when I was still in Heaven, but these plans have more details. Listen to this.” Larimar motioned Rudra over to take a look at the papers herself. “It says here that the reason Evo City was chosen for Shadiel to be stationed at is because of a place called HECU Headquarters. HECU is an organization founded by someone named Colonel Dyson in response to the growing number of superhuman entities called ‘Freaks.’ It was headquartered in Evo City due to this city having advanced defenses against hostile Freak attacks, making it a secure location for their operations.”
“Freaks? What in the name of Mom’s green Earth is a Freak?” Rudra said, blinking at the plans.
“It doesn’t really explain that part. It just says they’re superhuman entities,” Larimar shrugged, pursing his lips at the parchment.
Rudra sighed, folding her arms over her chest. “And why is this important to Shadiel? What does he plan to do with HECU?”
Larimar mumbled and murmured for a few seconds as he quickly flipped through the papers in his hands. “Uh…HECU has extremely advanced technology at their disposal, more advanced than most places on Earth. It looks like Shadiel is planning to use their technology for…something.”
“Something?”
“I don’t know, the plan ends there,” Larimar sighed, lowering the papers. “I knew I should have grabbed the rest…”
“It’s more than we had before. We can figure out the rest once we’re in there,” Rudra assured, observing the city in front of her. The soaring skyscrapers and rambunctious streets of Evo City were unfamiliar to her, both in design and concept. She had never seen a modern human city before, and seeing one for the first time was…intriguing, to say the least.
“It’s strange. I’ve never actually seen a human city in the modern era. It’s odd to finally see them in person.”
“It’s certainly jarring. Especially compared to what’s up in Heaven. I mean, these skyscrapers look nothing like the golden pillars back home,” Larimar remarked, looking up from his papers. “I wanna know how humans managed to build them.”
The Dominion that had attacked Larimar hours prior stretched. “I remember this place. There’s a ferris wheel across the city. And a theater where humans perform Shakespeare. You should watch their performance of MacBeth.”
“You’ve been here before?” Rudra asked.
“Mom’s more lenient with us visiting Earth,” the Dominion shrugged.
“She doesn’t want us to be stuck in the sanctuary just because she is. Besides, we do research in cities and countryside areas to give us an edge in guiding humans,” Joriel explained, folding her arms over her chest.
Larimar sighed wistfully, turning his attention back to the plans. “At least you guys got a chance to see the outside world…sometimes I wish I was thrown to Earth with Mom like you guys. Then I wouldn’t have been stuck with Judgment.”
Joriel sighed. “Mom wanted to go back and save you guys, you know. But the Flood...”
“...what about the Flood?” Rudra asked, turning her attention to Joriel.
“I’m sure Judgment told you Mom did it, right?”
“He did, but I don’t trust his words as far as I can throw him,” came the blunt reply.
“Well…Mom didn’t cause the Flood, that much I think you can guess. It was Judgment’s doing. To reverse creation and start anew, he tried to return Earth to its primordial state.”
“Figures,” Rudra huffed incredulously with a heavy scowl. “But…what does that have to do with Mom?”
Joriel let out a mournful sigh and turned back to the city. “When Mom realized what Judgment had done, it was already too late to stop him from flooding the world. That’s why she told Noah to create that ark. It was the only way humanity and animal life could be preserved.” Joriel fell silent for a moment, her thoughts spinning in her head. “Without the precision that Judgment has, Mom had to use much of her own power to communicate with Noah directly. Afterwards she had to use her strength to raise the land when the water started to recede. She had exhausted herself by the time it was done and could barely stand…She wanted to help, but when Judgment caused the Flood, she had used up too much of her power. She could barely stand after that happened and was confined to her bed for years.”
“Some of us think Judgment only caused the Flood to weaken Mom,” Styna added coldly, her voice dropping to a whisper. “He caught wind of her plans and did everything he could to make sure she couldn’t lift a finger to stop him.”
An unsettling silence came over the Legion, and all Rudra and Larimar could do was stare at Joriel in complete shock.
Rudra exhaled shakily, standing aghast at the revelation. “I…didn’t know that’s what happened,” she whispered, covering her mouth. “We were never anything about the Flood. Just that Mom had caused it.”
“...there’s a lot about Mom that hasn’t gotten out. This is why she stays in the sanctuary now. Her raw power would be too much for Earth to handle in the state she’s currently in; even back in the day, to look upon the original’s face was to die, and now she doesn’t have that control…” a shaky gasp came deep from within Joriel’s chest, and she carefully sat on the verdant hillside. “I was with her that day. I saw the light fade from her eyes…she expended so much energy just trying to preserve what was left…she was left powerless. Powerless.”
Rudra swallowed hard, deeply shaken by Joriel’s unsteady words. The Great Flood…so it was just a plot to weaken Mercy? To drain her of her power? To impose an ultimatum - either try to preserve humanity or let them perish? To trade her children over all of humanity?
So Judgment wasn’t just a liar and tyrant. He was perfectly willing to slaughter humanity just to make sure Mercy couldn’t stop him.
Figures.
“I tried asking for Mom’s help centuries ago,” Rudra started, sitting on the hillside. She took in a breath and held her head in her hands. “It wasn’t long after the Flood happened. I had managed to sneak out of Heaven and somehow managed to stumble upon the sanctuary. That’s how I knew how to enter it last night. I wanted Mom’s help. I didn’t want Judgment’s actions going any farther than they already had, but…”
Larimar slowly lowered the parchment in his hands, sorrow in his eyes. “That was the night you two had a falling out, wasn't it?” he asked softly.
“It was,” Rudra admitted. “Mom refused to help me, and I didn’t know why at the time. She just told me to leave and never come back. I just - I just thought she didn’t care anymore. I didn’t know-” Rudra stopped herself, a lump forming in her throat. “I was so upset with her that I didn’t know what to do with myself.”
“Mom didn’t want to say it. She didn’t want you knowing she was so weak.” Joriel sat next to Rudra and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I want to apologize for the way I acted when you came to the sanctuary that day. I remember that night, when you came asking for help…It felt like you were just ignoring what Mom had just gone through and I got so angry about that. Seeing you come to the sanctuary last night - it felt like we were reliving that moment. I’m - I’m sorry for thinking that, I should’ve known that Judgment was feeding you nothing but lies.”
Rudra exhaled sharply, a few stray tears falling from her misty eyes. She gently touched Joriel’s hand and squeezed it, silently nodding. “There’s no telling how many things he kept from us. His lies run deep,” she whispered, staring blankly ahead. She sighed and wiped her tears, a brief peace coming over her. “At least I know some of the truth now. I guess Mom was right to send you along with us.”
“Oh, now you’re just getting sappy,” Joriel chuckled, elbowing her sister. “Come on, we’ve got work to do. And more of Judgment’s lies to uncover.” Joriel climbed to her feet and pulled Rudra up. “And here I thought I was gonna hate coming with you.”
“Eh, we’ve still got plenty of time for that,” Larimar smiled tenuously. “Come on, we’ve spent enough time hanging out on this hill. We’ve got a city to tackle.”
“Right, of course.” Rudra coughed and dispelled the lump in her throat before turning to address the Legion. “I need you all to remain here. Evo City is far too dense for us all to enter, so we’ll need to separate. Larimar, Joriel, Ofia, Madame Talon, Skyla, Styna, and myself will enter Evo City and find HECU headquarters. The rest of you are to remain here until further notice. Understood?”
A series of affirmative shouts came from the surrounding angels. Rudra gave a satisfied nod, then turned on her heel and began marching down the grassy hillside, her entourage in tow.
“Hey, nice talk. We should do that more often,” Joriel remarked, trudging along ahead of Rudra. “Catharsis is a fantastic feeling.”
“That’s only if we’re all alive by the end of this,” Rudra shot back, bounding down the hill.
***
HECU headquarters was a highly advanced industrial building, constructed from the ground up as an impenetrable defensive structure against any and all manner of outside attacks. It was an imposing sight, standing taller than most of the surrounding skyscrapers. It was strong, sturdy, and heavily guarded at all times. HQ housed the highest ranking officials across the organization and was the seat of its founder, Colonel Dyson. HECU was at the head of technological advancement in Evo City, housing some of the most powerful, extensive, and valuable tech imaginable.
It was simply a shame that they were still using outdated Spytech software and hardware for some of their programs.
On the first floor of HQ was a heavily reinforced chamber that was overseen by numerous scientists and guards. The chamber was designed to hold newly discovered Freaks while HECU interviewed them and added their profile to their Freak database. A single chair sat in the middle of the chamber and was hooked up to a massive machine that was built into the ceiling. Cables and wires descended down from the mechanism and connected to the chair and were designed to stabilize any potentially dangerous Freaks that were brought in. Across from the chair was a one-way window that HECU researchers used to observe the Freak in relative safety. A series of control panels and screen monitors were hooked wirelessly to the machine within the chamber, displaying vital information for the researchers, such as heart rate and energy influxes. It was a marvel of engineering, but a faulty piece of outdated Spytech hardware meant that the monitors were running agonizingly slow for what they were meant to do.
A woman dressed in a maroon trench coat and a red scarf that wrapped around her hair was standing over the malfunctioning control panel, a bag of various tools beside her. She had opened up the top of the panel and was carefully removing vital internal hardware in search of the faulty Spytech chip that had been implemented into the computer system. She quietly hummed to herself, finding the process of taking apart the hardware relaxing. Her hands moved quickly and skillfully over the delicate components with practiced ease and her eyes expertly picked out and identified essential and disposable hardware.
It was like a leisurely puzzle to the woman, and she took a great deal of enjoyment from her repairs. Spytech was a very familiar subject to her and she knew its software and hardware like the back of her hand, having worked directly with it for several years. It came with the territory, of course. She had been a Spy for Mann Co. for almost a decade, working with Reliable Excavation and Demolition for most of her time there. She had been sent on countless missions by Mann Co. and had eventually been contracted by TF Industries itself, which controlled Mann Co. and the BLU and RED teams that served it.
The woman let out a triumphant ‘aha’ as she finally found the faulty Spytech chip that had been slowing the computers down. She carefully took the computer’s motherboard in her gloved hands and gingerly pinched the blue Spytech chip between her thumb and forefinger, delicately removing the faulty chip from the circuits. She grinned at the chip and straightened up, then turned to the researchers behind her and held the defective piece of hardware up like a trophy.
“Now, there’s your problem!” She announced, handing the chip over to the scientists. “That chip is from the 1920’s and was shot long before it was installed here. No wonder your computers were freaking out. Seriously, how did that piece of junk manage to find its way in here if it didn’t even work?”
“When HECU was first started, Colonel Dyson had to make do with the tech he had at the time,” one of the researchers informed, rubbing their neck. “He had a bunch of bargain Spytech hardware and just used that, and we haven’t really gotten around to upgrading everything yet.”
“Well it’s a good thing you have me. I know Spytech like the back of my hand. I’ll have everything upgraded in no time,” the red-clad woman assured, replacing the computer’s hardware as she spoke.
“Thank you, Noir,” another researcher said with a note of relief. “It’s hard to believe you’ve only been at HECU for a few months. You’ve already done a lot to help.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, really. Spytech is child’s play to me,” Noir chortled, patting the control panel. “I have some spare Spytech chips that are ready for use. I can go ahead and replace that faulty piece of junk and have the computer up and running within the hour.”
“You’d do that?”
“Of course! Those suckers are just burning a hole in my desk. You would not believe the amount of spare Spytech I managed to salvage during my time as a Spy. And all of it is state-of-the-art to boot. This computer will run faster than just about everything in this building once I have the new chip installed, and it’ll automatically update the computer’s security system. Even the best Spy in the world couldn’t hack it.”
“Oh, you’re a lifesaver, Noir!” the researcher exclaimed, grateful.
“Eh, it’s nothing. I’ll be back soon!” Noir picked up her bag of tools and ran out of the room and bounded down the stark white hallways of HECU.
The floor was made of polished white tiles with the occasional checkering of blue and red. The walls were decorated with informational posters about Freaks, lists of rules, and hallway etiquette. Fluorescent ceiling lights lit up the halls, and a constant, low buzz was produced from the humming lights. Mindless chatter filled the air as scientists, engineers, and guards ambled up and down the halls and came in and out of rooms.
Noir sharply turned a corner to head to her office, her attention too focused on her watch to notice the woman in front of her. The two women collided and staggered back, and the stack of papers the other woman had been holding scattered to the floor like snow.
“Oh, shit! Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” Noir quickly apologized, extending a hand to the woman. “Are you ok?”
The woman, picking up a few futuristic devices she’d dropped, nodded. “I think so. You’re one of our IT people, right? I’m Anita. We’re probably gonna be working closely together,” she said, shaking Noir’s hand. She was dressed in a white lab coat and black jeans. A pair of goggles were affixed to her head and she was wearing high-grade gloves. Her hair was dark brown and was tied back into a bun.
“Yeah. I’m Diane Noir, but everyone just called me Lady Noir. Or just Noir. You’re Dr. Anita James, right? Head of Engineering around here?” Noir asked, picking up the dropped papers.
“Yep. Most of the advanced tech here is my work, and that’s not even half of it. They don’t use nearly enough of my tech, if you ask me,” she said, taking the papers from Noir. “Where are you heading to in such a hurry?”
“Oh, a computer in the Examination Chamber had a faulty Spytech chip installed. I had to remove it and I was heading to my desk to pick up a new one. I’ve salvaged plenty of Spytech in my time, so I have more than enough to go around,” Noir explained briefly, adjusting her black sunglasses.
“I keep telling them the new Scanners would be better, but no one wants to listen to me! The prototype only exploded once, I fixed it!”
“Ouch, sounds harsh,” Noir winced. “Hey, since you’re familiar with the tech around here, do you mind helping me? I’ve been meaning to upgrade all the computers in the Examination Chamber and I could use an extra set of hands.”
“Sure! I just need to present the new Ground Splitter to Dyson.”
Noir arched an eyebrow at Anita. “...Ground Splitter?”
“It helps against higher tier Freaks that can’t fly. What better way to bring one down than to drop them in a pit?”
“...Good point, but wouldn’t we have to do that in an unpopulated area to avoid property damage?”
“Some of the places in Evo City, property damage would make an improvement,” Anita shrugged.
“Yeah, I don’t think Dyson would let you use it in Evo,” Noir replied dryly.
“Probably not.”
“Well, good luck with that. I’ll go get the Spytech chips from my desk and I’ll meet you outside the Conference Room!” Noir said, heading into her office.
“Sure thing, Frenchie,” Anita waved, shuffling down the hall to the Conference Room.
In her office, Noir quickly dropped her bag of tools and began rummaging through her desk for her spare Spytech chips. Flipping through stacks of papers and folders, she found the chips hiding underneath the letter she had received from HECU, confirming her new job. She quickly snatched up the chips and dropped them into her bag and swiftly headed back out.
Reaching the Conference Room at the other end of the hall, she took a seat beside the door and waited for Anita to complete her presentation to Dyson and the Directors Board of HECU. The door was closed and the panel in the door was covered with a shutter, but Noir could still make out what was being said.
“Dr. James, don’t you think that this invention of yours needs a little more time in development?” Dyson said, his voice muffled.
“No, not really. I’ve already tested it. Seventeen times. All I need is someone to use it against to make sure it’ll work right, and we’re set!”
Noir could hear the rustling of paperwork as the Directors Board spoke among themselves.
“Dr. James, if you were to test this on someone, it would have to be somewhere where it will cause minimal damage. We can’t risk using this Ground Splitter anywhere in or near the city.”
“I’ve been working on a pocket dimension-”
“Has the pocket dimension been tested?” Dyson questioned.
“Not yet. I was meaning to ask about getting one of the hostiles for testing.”
“Hm…Alright, permission granted. We have Painis Cupcake currently on lockdown in the Containment Facility. You can use him for the test.”
“Awesome! I’ll need some guards with electro-guns and Uber Nullifiers there. Just to be safe.”
“Granted. When can you perform the experiment?”
“Within the week, assuming nothing important comes up.”
“Good. I’ll have The Ring prepared for whenever you’re ready.”
Noir strained her ears as she attempted to make out anything else, but all she could hear was more paper-rustling and pen-clicking. It sounded like the meeting was about to wrap up, and so Noir stood to join Anita when the meeting attendants left the room.
As she stood, Noir saw something in the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw an intern sprinting down the hall from the HECU lobby, several papers jostling about in his hands. He was dashing straight for the Conference Room and Noir had to quickly jump out of his way to avoid a collision with the reckless intern. He threw the door open and staggered into the room, slamming the papers onto the table and surprising the attendants with his sudden entrance.
“Colonel Dyson! Sir, there’s been a Freak sighting in downtown Evo City!”
“What? When did this happen?” Dyson demanded, jumping up from his seat.
“I got the call a minute ago, sir. An employee from Evo City Bank says she saw several individuals pass by the establishment. She says she didn’t recognize any of them.”
“Were they hostile?” Anita asked, looking over the intern's shoulder as he sifted through his papers.
“Well…no, actually.”
“Are the Freaks in our database?” Dyson queried, raising an eyebrow.
“No, sir. The woman said that they just walked by the bank and continued walking through the city. A few more calls came in afterwards saying they saw a bunch of angels taking a crosswalk near Evo City Park. Again, no hostility was reported. Uh…” the intern opened his folder and produced a fuzzy, grayscale photo before laying it on the table. “This was taken from a street camera near the park. It captured the Freaks, and…well, I’m not sure what to say about it.”
“...Well shit, they weren’t kidding. Those are angels,” Dyson said, taking the photo.
“Wow,” Anita beamed. “Just think of all the scientific discoveries we could make!”
“Now hang on, Dr. James. We don’t even know why they’re here,” Dyson remarked.
“None of the reports seem to know either,” the intern said. “It sounds like these angels are just wandering around Evo.”
“Why would a bunch of angels be wandering around the city?” Noir asked abruptly, poking her head into the room.
“Maybe they're Erzengel’s lackeys,” a director suggested offhandedly.
“I thought Erzengel worked alone. Dream Demoman notwithstanding,” Anita said, taking a look at the photo. “There’s seven angels here, and it looks like this one in front is the leader.” Anita pointed out an armored figure in the photo.
“We’ll need to bring them in and figure out what they’re doing here. Diane Noir?” Dyson beckoned Noir over, who looked surprised.
“Yes, Colonel Dyson?”
“I want you and Dr. James to find them and bring them here.”
“Wh - sir, I work in IT. I don’t think I’m qualified to bring Freaks in.”
“You were a Spy, weren’t you?”
“One of the best,” she confirmed.
“Then you already have the qualifications. Dr. James will accompany you. I think you’ll find her equipment useful if anything comes to blows.”
“Awesome!” Anita grinned. “I’ll get my equipment ready.” Anita quickly gathered up her presentation and booked it out of the room, still beaming.
“I’ll get my things. We’ll leave soon.” Noir turned on her heel and swiftly took her leave. “I guess those computers will have to wait…”
***
Lady Noir and Anita were ambling through the streets of Evo City, following the witness reports to downtown Evo where the new Freaks were first spotted. Anita was carrying a radar that was designed to pick up the unusual energy signals that Freaks produced. Her eyes were glued to the screen and she absentmindedly followed Noir up the sidewalk, narrowly avoiding collisions with just about everything as Noir had to pull her out of the path of the oncoming crowd on their daily commute.
“Getting anything?” Noir queried, watching as the stoplight turned green, allowing her and Anita to safely navigate the crosswalk to the other side of the street.
“Yeah. It’s coming from McDonald's.”
Noir snapped her head towards Anita so fast it looked like she just gave herself whiplash. “McDonalds?”
“I’m as surprised as you.” Anita tilted the radar so Noir could see the screen. “It looks like the signal stops there.”
“Well, let’s check it out. And maybe get something to eat while we’re at it. I haven’t had lunch yet.”
Noir and Anita hastily made their way down the street and eventually arrived at downtown Evo City. The air was filled with the usual cacophony of city bustle - honking cars, cell phone rings, slamming doors, and road-rage fueled exchanges between drivers whenever traffic started to pile up. The radar began to loudly beep and the screen pointed Anita and Noir in the direction of a nearby McDonalds that was located on the other side of the street. Unfortunately for the two women, a wall of cars blocked their path, all stuck in a traffic jam.
“Ok, it’s gonna take forever if we wait,” Noir remarked, frowning at the seemingly endless line of traffic.
“Here.” Anita dropped a futuristic disc on the ground and it quadrupled in size, forming a brightly colored hoverboard. Anita stepped onto it, and the platform began to hover. “Get on.”
“Wh - I was gonna suggest we just walk between the cars,” Noir replied, staring at the board in surprise.
“Eh, this is more efficient. Get on.”
Noir shrugged, stepping onto the platform. “If you insist.”
The platform shot up into the air and Anita grabbed the levers on it. “Hold onto my shoulders.”
“This thing better be stable!” Noir exclaimed, grabbing onto Anita’s shoulders.
“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course it’s stable…mostly.”
“What was that?”
“Just hang on, the last thing I need is for you to fall off this thing!” Anita yanked the hoverboard’s levers back and it shot forward at blistering speeds, sending Anita and Noir barreling over the hectic street and to the restaurant on the other side. It lasted less than a second, and the two women abruptly found themselves on the sidewalk outside McDonalds.
“What the Hell, Anita!?” Noir yelped, clinging to Anita’s shoulders. “I would’ve just walked through traffic if I knew this thing was gonna launch us across the street!”
“Wouldn’t have been the same, Frenchie.”
Noir grumbled something and stepped off the hoverboard, her legs shaking. “I’m not getting on that thing again.”
Anita scoffed. “You came here on a motorcycle, this is not that bad.”
“On a motorcycle, I know there’s no chance of me being flung across the street at lightspeed!”
“Oh please, that wasn’t even Mach 1.” Anita hopped off the hoverboard and flicked a switch underneath it, which reverted it back to a small disc.
Noir glanced over at the McDonalds restaurant beside her and peered into the windows, cupping her hands over her eyes to block out the sun’s glare. The restaurant was packed as it usually was at midday, but seven unique individuals had decided to stop by - the angels.
Set against the ordinary backdrop of a fast food joint, the angels stuck out like the sorest of technicolor thumbs. However, no one in the restaurant seemed to notice. Or rather, they didn’t care. Years of knowing that superhumans like the Freaks were running around had numbed the average person to the presence of seven angels. To them, it was just another Tuesday.
Anita and Noir entered the restaurant and began to approach the angels - wait, were they ordering food? Indeed, it appeared as though one of the angels was speaking to the cashier, her eyes glued to the panels above the counter. Noir squinted at the angels, examining them with the trained eyes of a Spy.
The angel speaking to the cashier was tall, towering over most of the angels in her company. Her face was like a chestnut in both shape and shade, and she was dressed in verdant green and gold armor that covered most of her body. A helmet sat atop her head and covered most of her face, save for her mouth. Dark red hair fell from underneath her helm and flowed down her back like a crimson waterfall. A white dress flowed from underneath her armor and reached down to her ankles, and three pairs of golden wings sprouted from her back. Several golden rings were festooned up the length of her arms and gleamed with power. She appeared strong, but Noir could tell at a glance that she wasn’t the leader.
“-I’d like a quarter pounder with cheese, an order of chicken nuggets, a large side of fries - Larimar? Do you want anything?”
“I want a sausage McGriddle with a hashbrown and an order of nuggets with a side of honey - do they have spicy honey?” a man in a blue and white robe replied. His skin was a rich sepia and he had dark hair that was tied in braids that sat atop his shoulders. Eyes dotted much of his body, but were concentrated on his wings and face - and the wings on his face, which protruded from where his ears would have been. He held a golden scepter that was decorated with pearls and ivory, and the end of the staff was adorned with a ring that encompassed a free-floating diamond. To Noir, he seemed like an inquisitive and curious man. A scholarly angel, no doubt.
“Hey, Talon? Anything you want?” The green angel craned her neck over to a woman that appeared to be made almost entirely of sharp, protruding metal.
“I’ll have a spicy chicken sandwich with a chocolate milkshake. Hold the pickles and add cheese and extra hot sauce. But not too much sauce! I wanna taste the cheese,” She replied curtly. She had piercing black eyes - it was as though her eyes were windows into some deep, stygian abyss. Her face was narrow, and her features were equally as sharp as the metal that made up her snow white skin. She was wearing a simple white robe and a crossbow hung on her back, sitting between her serrated, dagger-like wings. Noir could tell from the metal alone that this woman was the menacing weapons-master of the group.
“Skyla?” the green angel turned her attention to a shorter woman.
“I want a Big Mac with no lettuce and a large side of fries,” the shorter angel answered. She wore a set of sleek armor made from damascus steel. A red and black dress spilled out from beneath her chestplate and reached down to her ankles. Her skin was pale, and her eyes glowed an intense scarlet. Her hair was incredibly dark in color and it flowed down her back in a long braid, held together with pearls. She stood with a slight hunch, and the lance that hung from her back was improperly sheathed. Noir immediately gleaned that Skyla had to be inexperienced.
“Styna? How ‘bout you?”
A young woman with pearly skin examined the menu above the counter. She was dressed in a frilly white, purple, and pink dress and adorned with golden jewelry. Long pink hair flowed down her back and a small pair of blue wings were barely visible through her locs. Between her and Skyla, Noir gathered that the two angels had to be relatively new recruits.
“A double quarter pounder with cheese and a baked apple pie, cinnamon bun, and a caramel macchiato, no ice.”
“Jori?”
“I’ll just have a McDouble with an order of fries.” a pause. “And a side of hotcakes,” the burly angel hummed. Her hair was like bronze and was expertly styled into a braid that swept over her shoulder, where the locs turned a honey-like blonde. The armor she wore was made up of several colors - white, blue, gold, and purple - the most ornate and opulent armor out of the seven angels, characteristic of a high ranking individual. Her face was narrow and her skin was a rosey beige. Her eyes were golden and observant, and her wings were ivory in color, but the primary and secondary feathers on her wings were a stunning and luminescent gold. Joriel was a sight to behold, but something told Noir that she wasn’t the one in charge.
Then Noir saw the green-clad angel turn to the final angel that had stood silently beside her. She was a muscular woman with umber skin and brilliant pearly wings. Her hair was mostly hidden underneath a beanie that was very similar in design to the beanies Noir often saw Demomen wear, but a few loose curls revealed the woman to have black hair. She was adorned in intricately designed armor, and a sword hung from her hip, sheathed within an ornate scabbard. There was an air of authority in the way she stood - her stance was stalwart and powerful, exuding strength. Noir could tell; now that was the leader.
“Hey, Rudra, you want anything?” The verdant angel asked.
The angel - Rudra - sighed and glanced over at the woman. “Of all the things we had to stop for, you choose a place that can’t even spell ‘nugget’ correctly,” she sighed incredulously, shaking her head.
“Look, I haven’t had breakfast, ok? I’m hungry!”
“You’re an Ophan, Ofia! You don’t even need to eat!”
“No, but it feels good,” Ofia huffed. “Now, what do you want? I’m paying for everything.”
“Just an order of gravy biscuits with a fried egg.”
“Do you want that on the side?”
“Yes, on the side. And a drink.”
“Diet or regular?”
“Diet is fine.”
“Ok…Hey, what diet drinks do you have?” Ofia asked, craning her neck down at the unusually short cashier.
“We just have Pepsi,” he replied, recording the order of the angels. “Anything else?”
“Nope, I think that’s everything.”
"Of course. Your total is 55 dollars and 99 cents." As he rang the group up, the cashier asked, "So you guys Freaks, elves, fae, or what?"
“Angels. We’re just passing through,” Rudra answered, scanning the restaurant. “Why?”
“You kiddin’? You guys stick out like a sore thumb. Like, we’ve got Freaks with multiple heads and scissors for hands and you guys still look weird standing in the middle of a McDonalds.”
“Oh…” Rudra briefly looked down at herself, then back at the patrons. “I guess we do stand out.”
“I’ll say. I know fae who can masquerade better than you guys.”
“Look, we didn’t exactly have time to disguise ourselves completely,” Larimar replied. “We’re on a tight schedule and these human forms are the best we could do on short notice.”
“Fair enough. Do you want your order here or to go?”
“To go. We’ve got a lot of walking to do today,” Rudra answered.
“No flying?” Anita asked from behind them. “It’d be more efficient.”
Rudra jumped slightly and turned to Anita with a raised eyebrow. “...uh, who are you?”
“Dr. James. I’m with HECU, as is my coworker. We were sent to bring you-”
“Wait, HECU?” Rudra blurted, relief spreading across her face instantaneously. “As in, the HECU organization, right?”
“That’s us. This is my coworker, Diane Noir.”
“We were sent by Colonel Dyson to bring you to HECU. We were alerted by a few citizens that there were some Freak sightings in downtown Evo, and you happen to be the subject of those sightings,” Noir answered, producing a folder from her leather purse. “And because none of you are in the database, we’ll have to bring you in to document your existence.”
“...So you’ll just take us there?” Joriel questioned, looking up and down at Anita and Noir.
“Er…yes, that’s our job.”
“Great!” Rudra smiled. “We’ve been searching for HECU headquarters all day, so it’s a relief that you two will take us straight there.”
Anita beamed. “By the way, is there any chance you would mind if I studied you? Angels existing could change the field of science permanently.”
“Excuse me?”
“The supernatural is just science we don’t have access to. I want to change that.”
“Dr. James here is the Head of Engineering at HECU, and she’s also heavily involved in our Research Division,” Noir clarified. “She’s responsible for most of the technological and scientific advancements HECU has made, and she’s especially interested in Freaks and other supernatural entities. Which means that she’ll be interested in you.”
“Oh…uh, I don’t really know what to say,” Larimar stammered, perplexed. “I don’t think we really have time for you to study us. We’re on a pretty tight schedule.”
The cashier snickered as Anita prompted, “Define tight.”
Larimar shot the cashier a glare before continuing. “How does stopping the apocalypse sound?”
“Amazing! How can we help?” Anita exclaimed as she pulled a notepad from her bag, her excitement in jarring contrast to the look of dread on Noir’s now-pale face.
“Wait, the apocalypse? Please tell me you guys are joking…”
“Ever heard of the Rapture?” Joriel asked, folding her arms. “That’s not supposed to be for another few millenia. At least.”
“And now it’s happening this year. In just a few months, actually,” Rudra added coldly. “We’re here to stop it from happening.”
The cashier hummed. “That so? Who’s to blame?”
Rudra opened her mouth to speak, but hastily closed it upon glancing around the restaurant. She then leaned towards Noir and Anita and lowered her voice to a whisper. “We can continue this at HECU. To be brief, we have to stop a deity from starting the Rapture, and his goons are likely all over the city by now.”
The cashier rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone upon being ignored.
“Uh - ok,” Noir stammered. “Follow us. We’ll take you there.”
“Now? But we haven’t even gotten our food!” Ofia complained.
“Ugh, fine! Get the food, then we’ll leave,” Rudra sighed, rubbing her eyes in annoyance. “And we don’t even need to eat…”
***
It was a surprise to Rudra. When Noir and Anita lead the angels to HECU, several guards had surrounded them and escorted them through the stark white, industrial halls of HECU headquarters. The guards had taken them to a reinforced steel chamber where they were to sit and wait as each one of them was called into the room adjacent, which was called the Examination Chamber. Noir had explained that this was to record their existence and add them to HECU’s database as was customary for new Freaks, but Rudra found the whole ordeal to be perplexing - and quite boring.
Rudra was sitting beside Larimar in the quiet room, staring off into space as Anita wrapped a device around her arm. “What’s the purpose of this procedure?” Rudra asked as Anita finished applying what she called a “sphygmomanometer.”
“Blood pressure. I want to know how different an angel’s is from a human’s.”
“Oh…well, I’m not entirely sure myself,” Rudra admitted.
“Hence the check.”
“Alright, check away.” Rudra leaned back in her chair as the cuff around her arm began to squeeze. She glanced over at Larimar, and the two shared knowing grins, and a collection of stifled giggling went through the waiting angels.
Rudra took a deep breath and tightened the muscles in her body, causing the readings on the sphygmomanometer to become skewed - so skewed that the monitor couldn't properly display the number. The manometer that Anita was using to measure the pressure began to malfunction, and the needle inside began rapidly flicking between low and high pressure, unable to get a reading on Rudra’s blood pressure.
“What the... you’re inhuman! Come with me, I have a huge list of other tests to run,” the scientist said, grabbing Rudra by the hand.
“What - but I can’t go yet, I’m next up to go inside the Examination Chamber!” Rudra blurted, suddenly regretting the small prank.
“Eh, it’s ok, I’ll go next. You go with Anita and do…whatever it is she needs you to do,” Larimar waved, fighting down the urge to laugh.
Skyla whispered something to Ofia, who took a picture. “Heavenstagram is gonna crack up.”
Rudra scowled at the two angels as she swiftly left the waiting room and followed Anita outside. “So…what kind of tests do you plan on running?”
“I need blood, or whatever your equivalent is, eye tests, cranial nerve tests, measurements-” Anita listed the tests off rapid-fire, never breaking her stride as she made her way down the halls and to a unique set of double doors - one that had numerous warning signs stapled to it.
“Uh, I’m assuming this is your lab…?”
“Yeah. Sometimes my inventions blow up during testing. Unstable power sources and all. But I haven’t been working on much as of late, so it should be safe.”
“Right…I guess I can stay for some of your tests. I won’t be called into the Examination Chamber for a while,” Rudra replied, surveying the warning labels with some hesitancy.
“Excellent! Hey Igor, get the blood splicer out!” Anita called, throwing open the doors to reveal a highly advanced lab inside. The lab was unlike anything Rudra had ever seen, and it was filled to the brim with state-of-the-art technology. Test tubes and beakers filled with unknown substances littered the counters and tables, and numerous diagrams decorated the pale walls. An examination table sat in the middle of the room, a bizarre device installed into the ceiling above it.
A man with an unusual hump in his back was sitting at the lab’s desk, mulling over some paperwork when Anita called his name. He quickly slid off his seat at Anita’s request and headed over a large table on the other side of the room that was littered with countless inventions, some of which Rudra couldn’t even begin to describe. Noir was in the room as well, sitting in a chair next to the desk where Igor had been. Her legs were folded over and her arms were crossed, and she looked like she was lost in thought.
Rudra looked around for a moment, taking in the scene. “What’s a blood splicer? Should I be worried?”
“Huh? No! It’s not like your blood is gonna be inside you when I use the splicer on it.”
“...Huh?” Rudra’s eyes widened, unsure if she'd heard Anita correctly - and worried if she had.
“I need a blood sample so I can examine your DNA.”
“NO!” Rudra shrieked, instantly stealing her hand back from Anita with alarming speed. Rudra’s eyes had snapped wide open at the mention of a blood sample, and a line of cold sweat dotted her forehead. An uneasy and panicked look came into her iridescent eyes. She had turned a deathly pale, and apprehension was present in every movement she made, for all she was trying to hide it. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. A disturbingly familiar one at that. Noir, Anita, and Igor stood back, stunned by Rudra’s sudden cry.
“...what’s wrong?” Anita asked gently, stunned by Rudra’s reaction. “Blood issues?”
Rudra swallowed hard and began rubbing her hands together, as if to warm herself. Rudra could hear her own heartbeat beating rapidly, adrenaline coursing through her. She exhaled sharply, attempting to recover from her alarming reaction and hide her shaky movements. “I…yeah, blood issues,” she said hoarsely, clearing her throat. “Sorry, I…don’t like having my blood taken.”
“I can work with a feather. Is that okay?”
“Yeah. Yes, that’s fine,” Rudra nodded slowly. She extended one of her wings and plucked a feather from it, handing it to Anita. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that.”
“Hey, it’s all good. Igor, change of plans. Go get the Liquefier.”
Igor rolled his eyes under the cauldron helmet he wore. “Yes, Master, as you say,” he answered in a stereotypical “Igor from Frankenstein” voice. He took the feather in an overly dramatic fashion and brought it over to another machine that was mostly made of glass. Opening the lid, he dropped the feather inside and activated the device.
As the Liquifier did its work, Rudra took a seat in the chair Igor had previously sat in. Her hands were still shaking and her breath continued to come in labored gasps. Her entire body was tense, even her wings. Noir shot her a worried glance, watching as her hands trembled. Noir recognized the sickly look in Rudra’s eyes. She had seen it countless times before during her time as a Spy. It was the kind of haunted look a Medic made when faced with too many injured patients at once. It was the kind of panic a Soldier had when left in the field for too long with no one to save them. It was the kind of look a Sniper made when stranded in the nest with no ammo left and the enemy coming closer by the second. It was the kind of look someone made when reminded of something terrible, something painful. Something concerning enough to warrant hiding fear. She thought for a moment, and decided to properly break the ice between them to divert Rudra’s attention away from whatever memories stirred in her mind. Or, at the very least, Noir hoped it would lighten the mood.
“...Hey, you ok?” Noir asked, extending a hand to Rudra’s shoulder.
“Yes, I’m just…” Rudra cleared her throat again, tightly balling her hands into fists to stop the shaking. “I don’t like needles,” she said stiffly.
“Looks like more than just hating needles,” Noir remarked, pursing her lips. “Bad experiences with ‘em?”
Rudra hesitated for a moment, her eyes staring off into space. “...Something like that.”
“Yikes. Y’know, I get it. One time when I was little, I had to get an IV in my neck,” Noir divulged, jabbing her forefinger into her neck. Rudra gave Noir a disgusted look, and one of her hands shot up to her own neck. This elicited a chuckle from Noir, who sat back and continued to reminisce.
“Heh…yeah, absolutely dreadful experience. Y’see, I was taking my bicycle out for the first time and there was this bump in the road outside my house, but I didn’t know where the bump was. I hit it, and I got sent flying into the pavement. Just completely slammed face-first into it. Knocked out some baby teeth, even. So my parents took me to the hospital, but the doctors couldn’t find a blood vessel in my arm or hand they could use, so they had to stick it in my neck. I couldn’t move my head for hours. I’ve hated needles ever since.”
“Something similar happened to me when I was little,” Igor added, watching as the Liquifier turned the feather to a pearly white goo. “Doctors couldn’t find a vein in my arm, so they had to stick me in my leg of all places.”
“You guys are amateurs. When I had to take my blood for experiments, I just sliced my hand open.”
Noir, Rudra, and Igor all stared at Anita in bewilderment, like she had grown two heads.
“Uh…I don’t think that’s safe,” Noir replied, her face screwing up into a grimace.
“The scalpel was clean. Besides, I had to make sacrifices if I wanted to withstand my prototypes blowing up.”
“...Wait, you experiment on yourself?” Rudra queried, raising her head.
“Of course I do! What self-respecting scientist doesn’t?”
“...Uh, my brother,” Rudra answered bluntly.
“He’s probably doing it wrong,” Anita shrugged.
“Brother? The angel with braids?” Noir asked, resting her arm on the desk.
“Yeah, that’s him. His name is Larimar Prince,” Rudra said, leaning back in her chair. “He’s brilliant He knows just about everything there is to know about angel tech.”
“Clearly not everything if he didn’t self-test!”
“He’s not about to run experiments on himself.”
“Well he should! And I have a feeling he has! Look at all those eyes on him!’”
“He's an angel. Multiple eyes are the standard.”
Anita scoffed. “Yeah. Sure. I- sh*t, where did I put my wrench?” Anita turned to the table of inventions behind her and began rummaging through the devices in search of her wrench.
“Uh…it’s - it’s on your belt,” Rudra said awkwardly.
“Oh! Thanks!”
As Anita continued monitoring the Liquifier, Noir continued asking Rudra a litany of questions, which seemed to slowly calm her down. “So…I understand that angels have a sort of hierarchy of power. Where do you sit on it?” she asked, absently tracing circles into the desk with her forefinger.
“At the very top. Seraphim.”
“Wait, wait, hold up. You’re a Seraph!?” Noir gasped, her eyes lighting up.
“Yes. And you get points for knowing that the singular of Seraphim is Seraph,” Rudra replied. “My sister, Joriel, is a Seraph too. She’s the one with the gold and white wings.”
“Who's the older sister?” Noir asked.
“We’re the same age,” Rudra said. “Madame Talon is a Throne, so she’s just below me on the hierarchy. As is Ofia; she’s an Ophan. Then there’s Skyla, who’s a Virtue. Styna is a Power, and Larimar is a Principality. Well…” Rudra paused briefly. “He used to be a Dominion, but…”
“What happened?”
“He did something, and he got demoted to Principality for it several millennia ago.”
“Yikes…what did he do?”
“Let's just say he’s not allowed to use hatchets anymore. He was training one day and it flew out of his hands by accident, and…”
Noir gritted her teeth and winced. “Yikes…and he’s your brother?”
“Most of them are my siblings. Larimar, Jori, Ofia, and Talon are my siblings, but I’m not related to Skyla or Styna. Larimar is the second oldest, being a few centuries younger than me and Jori. Ofia and Madame Talon are around the same age, being a few decades apart but still younger than my brother. Styna and Skyla are the youngest, only being about 2000 years old each.”
“Huh. That’s…that’s one weird family,” Noir said, pursing her lips. “Uh, do you have more siblings?”
“Thousands more. In fact, some of them are here right now. There’s a hill outside the city and I told them to wait there while me and my friends searched Evo for HECU.”
“Hold on, there are thousands of angels outside Evo City? Right now?”
“Mhm.”
“Why?”
Rudra glanced at Noir, Anita, and Igor, then leaned forward, folding her hands together. “I guess now is a good time to tell you about that. You remember what we talked about in the restaurant? About stopping the apocalypse?”
Anita nodded, pulling out a box of candy cigars.
“That’s the main crux of why we’re here, but to understand it in full, we’ll need to go back in time. Hundreds of thousands of years, in fact.” Rudra took a breath, then continued. “The universe was created by many deities. The one we angels served was a deity that has gone by many names in the past. We just call them the Original One. They helped to create humanity, and they were a force of good for thousands of years. They couldn’t even fathom the idea that evil could exist in anything they created. But…something happened. It was after Lucifer’s betrayal, when he was cast down to Hell.”
Rudra stopped for a moment, her eyes darting back and forth. Noir could practically see the gears turning in her head as the Seraph struggled to find her words. “The Split happened. I’m not sure why it happened - none of us are sure why it happened. Or how.”
Noir tilted her head, listening closely to Rudra’s story. “The Split? What’s that?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. For whatever reason, the Original One split in two soon after Lucifer’s fall. I remember there being this intense light - so bright that it encompassed all of Heaven and nearly blinded us. I couldn’t see what happened. None of us could. But I could hear it. I could hear the Original One’s scream, and then I heard them apologize for what was about to happen-” Rudra’s voice faltered and she covered her mouth, her eyes beginning to glaze over. “The Original One split apart into their two main aspects, Mercy and Judgment. They became their own people and we angels consider them our parents. Mercy is my mother and Judgment is my father.”
Noir, Anita, and Igor all stared aghast at Rudra, taken aback by her tale and stunned into silence. Anita took a bite off her candy cigar, wide-eyed in amazement.
“...I don’t understand - why isn’t this Split mentioned anywhere in scripture?” Noir asked, the gears in her head beginning to spin.
“Because it was never recorded in human writing. It’s barely mentioned in divine writing, either,” Rudra sighed, holding her head in her hands. A weariness had come over her, weighing over her shoulders. Just retelling the story drained her.
“The Split was the start of things to come. You see, my Mom is all the good of the Original One wrapped up in a single individual, and she is all of the original deity’s power. My Dad is all the wrath of the original deity, and all of their precision. When the Split happened, Judgment’s anger spilled over Heaven in an instant, and it wasn’t long before he threw my Mom from Heaven to consolidate all power to himself, then he cast out thousands upon thousands of angels after her. He believed that if an angel wasn’t loyal to him, then they didn’t deserve to remain in paradise with him. Once he was in power, he wanted to enact his judgment on humanity for all their sins. But this wasn’t like what the Original One might have done, no. Judgment didn’t care about the severity of the sin that someone did, just that they sinned. To him, someone murdering an innocent and a child telling a little white lie were one in the same.”
Rudra stopped abruptly and took a deep breath, anger rising in her voice. She clenched her fist and lowered her head, quietly seething to herself.
“...are you ok?” Anita asked hesitantly, taking another bite off her cigar.
“Fine, I’m fine. It’s…infuriating. I’ve played back the last 7000 years in my head over and over again, and it’s always so enraging. I just have this compulsion to start screaming everytime I think about it,” she hissed, clenching her teeth. “It’s like watching a toddler burn an ants nest with a magnifying glass…” Rudra hung her head, then a hand was then laid gently on her shoulder and Noir gave her a reassuring smile.
“You don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” Noir assured, squeezing her shoulder.
“No, I’m fine. You need to know this,” Rudra said, determined to tell her tale. “Judgment became obsessed with retribution against humanity. He became callous and cruel over the years, and it extended past humanity. He even took it out on the angels that had remained in Heaven…including myself.” Rudra hesitated, chewing the inside of her cheek. “He wanted to start the Rapture; the end of the world. And that’s what he plans to do in the coming months. That’s why I’m here. Yesterday, I fought Judgment directly. I knew what he was planning to do and I couldn’t abide by it anymore. I fought him and I thought I could beat him - but he got a cheap shot on me, and I was cast out. Over a thousand angels were cast out and we haven’t even been on Earth for 24 hours since we fell.”
“Wh - you haven’t even been here for a day!?” Noir squawked, taken aback.
“Barely. We fell to Earth late last night and came to Evo City roughly an hour ago.”
“...Why are you in Evo City?” Anita questioned, handing a candy cigar to Igor.
“That’s a bit complicated. When we fell, I opted to become the leader of these angels - we call ourselves the Legion now. Many of us had been severely injured in the fall, so Larimar suggested we seek out our mother’s help. Mercy has a hidden sanctuary here on Earth, hidden over the sea within an impassable storm. She healed us and gave us the resources we needed. From there, me and my friends were able to formulate a plan. Judgment will be starting the Rapture soon and he has sent countless of his own angels to Earth to enact it. His precision allows him to strategically strike areas around the world to sow the seeds of discord and allow the Rapture to happen sooner. His forces severely outmatch the Legion, so I came up with a plan that my Mom absolutely does not like.”
“...how bad is it?” Anita questioned.
“Well…we went to Hell and stole energy from Lucifer himself so we would have access to Hellfire, which Judgment’s angels will be weak to.”
“Un. Holy. Sh*t.”
“What in the actual, literal, genuine fuck?” Noir gaped, staring at Rudra like she had grown a second head. “How!? I thought angels couldn’t go to Hell!”
“Not if you’re wearing protective armor,” Rudra replied, knocking her knuckles against her chest plate. “Lucifer kept his power within a relic that he called the Core of Hell. When I opened it, its power fused with us and we became infused with demonic energy. Now, we can transform at will between our normal forms and a Hellfire form. Once we did that, we were ready to start the fight against Judgment’s forces here on Earth. Judgment has assigned numerous angels to different places on Earth, and his forces are led by three Head Angels named Shadiel, Tyliel, and Raivel. This is why we’re here in Evo City. Shadiel is here.”
“...Anything else?” Noir blanched, processing everything Rudra said.
“No, that’s about everything.”
“What is Shadiel here for?” Anita asked.
“He’s planning on using HECU’s technology to do…something.”
“...something?” Noir cocked an eyebrow.
“Look, Lucifer had managed to steal some of Judgment’s plans for the Rapture and Larimar took them when we left Hell. The plans didn’t explain what Shadiel intends to do with the tech, just that he plans to do something with it,” Rudra explained.
“...oh f*ck. I knew those government agents looked suspicious!”
Rudra’s head shot up, the mention of suspicious agents having caught her attention. “Wait, when did you see these agents?”
“A few days ago. They said the country was under attack and they needed my tech.”
Rudra’s eye twitched momentarily, then she proceeded to scream into her hands. “And you just gave it to them!?”
“HECU is technically a government organization. So we kind of have to help them when they need it. They even had the right paperwork.”
“What did they look like? Did you get a good look at their eyes? Did any of their facial features look off to you in any way?” Rudra urged, hastily jumping from her chair.
“They set off my Energy Reader. I scanned them and put a tracker in one of the guys’ food just in case.”
“Can you track them? Those agents could’ve been Judgment angels in disguise!”
“...yeah. That’s what a tracker does.”
“Ask a dumb question...” Igor chuckled, only to be slapped on the back of the head by Noir.
“Just - do it, ok? I need to know where they are!” Rudra said hurriedly.
“Sure! You guys also want my tech?”
“What all do you have?”
The smile on Anita’s face was somewhat akin to a child asked to show off a drawing. “I am so glad you asked.”
“Of all the things to ask Anita…” Igor chuckled, knowing what came next. “Have fun with that. I’ll get a radar pulled up and find that tracker for you.” He gave Rudra a pat on the back as he approached a set of controls in the lab, laughing the entire time.
Anita hit a button on her desk, and the walls opened up to reveal an armory. “I’ve got them all labeled. I can also get the ones in the warehouse too, if you want.”
Rudra stood agape at the armory, blown away by the sheer number of weapons and devices that were stored inside, most of which looked like they had never been used. “Did you make all of this?”
“Every last one. The one on the far right is an antimatter cannon. It causes a burst of energy wherever it hits the target.”
“Didn’t the prototype for that thing blow up an old warehouse?” Noir questioned, giving the entire arsenal an uneasy look.
“No, that was the Inverter. It swaps muscle and bone tissue.”
Noir shuddered at the mere mention of the Inverter’s purpose. “Ugh, now there’s a mental picture I didn’t need…”
“I actually invented it with the intention of disrupting buildings, but I found out it worked on humans by complete accident-”
“Ok, we get the idea, moving on!” Noir interjected, letting out a disgusted groan.
“The one above us transports people to a dimension where there’s just trees that grow random food items.”
“Is that the device you were talking about in the conference with Dyson?”
“No, that one transports you to a prison dimension. Basically a maze that gives you some food 4 times a day and lets you try to escape. The exit exists, but you’re far more likely to get out if you’re actually released. At least, that’s the idea.”
“Didn’t the prototype for that device just transport people into space?” Igor asked.
“I think? I’m so glad I was on a shuttle for that test.”
“Your inventions don’t sound like the most stable equipment,” Rudra remarked dryly.
"I didn't build them to be stable. I built them because HECU has to go up against high tier Freaks and we need to be able to do as much damage as we can to hold our own." Anita turned back to the arsenal and took a few weapons off their racks and tossed them into Rudra’s hands. “Now, do you wanna use them or not?”
“...How much damage can they do to an angel?”
"...I'd ask for permission to test that out, but I don't think you'd really like that idea. If it helps, though, these electronic gauntlets can bring down a building,” Anita explained, motioning towards a pair of black metal gauntlets.
“Dr. James, I’ve got a signal,” Igor interjected abruptly. The monitor in front of him displayed a grid of Evo City, and the tracker displayed its current location. “It looks like the tracker’s in uptown Evo, and it doesn’t look like it’s moving.”
"Wonderful!"
Noir approached the monitor and squinted at the grid, closely examining the coordinates listed on the tracker. “That tracker’s not just in uptown Evo. That’s the Evo City Radiotower,” she said. “But that doesn’t make any sense, that Radiotower has been under construction for weeks and the location was deemed unsafe until further notice. In fact, I think it was slated for demolition recently because of how poorly renovations went. They ended up severely damaging the generators powering the station and they couldn’t afford to fix it.”
“It must be Shadiel,” Rudra declared, glaring at the blinking tracker. “He must be using your tech with the radio tower.”
“But for what? What could an angel possibly want with a defunct radio tower?”
“Probably to broadcast something,” Anita suggested matter-of-factly.
“Shadiel was the Head of Technology in Heaven. He was one of Judgment’s top angels before he got promoted to Head Angel with Tyliel and Raivel.”
“Heaven has divisions like that?”
“Of course it does. Heaven is more than just clouds and fancy buildings. We have more advanced technology than anything here on Earth and Shadiel is the most familiar with all of it. If he’s here to sow the seeds of discord, he’ll no doubt take advantage of human tech to do it,” Rudra explained coldly, deep in thought as Anita lit up at the idea of more advanced tech.
“By broadcasting a signal?”
“Not just any signal. One that can alter human behavior,” the mad scientist put in. “The best way to cause trouble is through other people.”
“Exactly,” Rudra agreed. “And I’m going to go out on a limb and say that this radio tower can broadcast signals to every inch of Evo City.”
“It does,” Noir said. “HECU used it to broadcast emergency signals to everyone in the city when it was still in use.”
“Then that makes it the perfect weapon. If Shadiel is there it won’t be long before he uses the radio tower and makes this whole city devolve into chaos.” Rudra turned on her heel and hurriedly marched out of the lab. “I need to get my angels. Shadiel will have droves of guards protecting him. I need to stop him before this city is destroyed.”
“Wait! I’m coming with you!” Noir blurted, leaping from the control panel. Rudra quickly looked over her shoulder at Noir, surprised by her sudden declaration.
“...What?”
“Earth is my home, too. If this place is gonna get destroyed in the next few months because of your tyrant of a dad, then I want to help you stop him. We still have our whole lives ahead of us and I’m not gonna let a deity end it all just because he’s upset at humanity!” Noir announced passionately, clenching her gloved fists. “I’ve been working with tech my whole life. You’ll need someone to stop that signal before it can reach all of Evo City!”
Rudra and Noir locked eyes and Rudra could see a determined fire burning beneath the dark shades that concealed Noir’s eyes. There was passion in her voice and her body shook with a lively ardor that Rudra was not used to seeing. She had never seen a mortal with so much energy and vitality burning within them. It was in that moment that Rudra knew Noir meant every word she said and would follow through with it unwaveringly, even if it meant getting involved with powers beyond her comprehension.
“...I’ll allow it. But know this, Lady Noir. This mission will be dangerous and if you decide to continue helping me, you will face dangers like you’ve never seen before.”
Noir huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Me and danger know each other well. I’ve been a Spy my whole life, I know what danger looks like.”
“I’m willing to help, too. Assuming I have continued permission to study angels, of course,” Anita interjected, an eager grin on her face.
“As long as you can help, I’ll allow it,” Rudra nodded. “If you’re willing to experiment on yourself, I’m sure you’re pleasantly acquainted with danger.”
“Awesome! I’ve been meaning to test out some new attack drones. I’ll go start them up.”
“I’ll gather up my angels. I’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.” Rudra then opened the door and fled the lab with Noir in tow.
In just a few minutes, Rudra had pulled her friends out of the waiting room and Examination Chamber and had gathered them in the HECU lobby, where she and Noir quickly briefed them on the current crisis and it wasn’t long before Anita and Igor joined them.
The two rolled two large metal crates into the lobby and upon opening them, Anita revealed a series of highly advanced drones sitting inside and powered down. Anita produced a controller from her hand and turned it on and the drones instantly sprung to life, leaping from their containers like a swarm of locusts.
“I call them the Swarm,” she explained with a too-wide grin. “HECU has used these drones for high tier Freaks that can’t be engaged with directly. And they haven’t lost a battle yet.”
“Perfect. I want you to patrol the air around the radio tower. Shadiel will have angels guarding every entrance and exit and I need you to keep them on the ground. If we have control of the air, we’ll have the advantage.”
“Gotcha. You hear that, Swarm? Go around the radio tower. Anything not in this room gets in the air, you send ‘em back down or you turn ‘em to ash.”
The drones lit up in red and flew out of HECU at blistering speeds, racing through the airspace of Evo to the defunct radio tower on the other side of the city. Rudra followed suit and led her allies out of HQ and into the bustling streets. Rudra’s gaze followed the swarm of drones as they careened through the air, their propellers letting out a droning hum-buzz that sounded distinctively like the incessant buzzing of a hungry horde of locusts.
The radio tower stood silent in the distance, towering over many of the skyscrapers that made up Evo City’s numerous districts. Scaffolding surrounded the station that the tower was connected to like an outer skeleton, and Rudra could faintly make out abandoned construction equipment scattered around the scaffolding itself. Although the tower was silent, Rudra could see a small, blinking red light flashing at the top of the tower, flickering like a distant candle.
#Freak Fortress#Team Fortress 2#The Gravestone Saga#Angel Fallen: The Chronicles of the Legion#Rudra Seraph#Lady Noir#Anita James#Skyla#Styna#Joriel#Madame Talon#Ofia#Colonel Dyson#Larimar Prince
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Chapter 1: A Letter - Winter, Year 0
Elliot spent a good chunk of their childhood in Grandpa's farm over at Pelican Town but can't really remember anyone on there, if they do remember her. Every year at Fall, dad would go out into the old farm to keep watch over it "lest there be spirits camping in there, amirite?". But this year it's different:
Dad: Hey champ! Say, why don't you go check up on the farm this year?
Elliot: Mmmm and how exactly do I do that??
Dad: Oh yknow, just check the house if it's still intact. Pull some weeds; get rid of debris...Maybe a attend a meeting or two..
Elliot: Meeting??? In the countryside? Haha that's quite an imagery, dad.
Elliot's always busy nowadays especially with her promotion as a Project Officer in her corporate job. Schedules become more and more hectic. Overtime is more frequent and longer than it was. Hell, she even gets called in to work during the weekends. Ultimately, dad is very worried about her well-being but there's also another thing he worries about - the farm. Sure, they could survive without it; Elliot has more than enough money saved to even buy her own house at this point and Dad's been retired for quite some time now, with a pension, of course. But money isn't the reason why the old farm's being kept around.
Elliot focuses back on her report due next week and dad has no choice but to back down with the topic for a bit or else his daughter might get annoyed and dismiss the topic entirely. The doorbell rings and dad goes out to get the door. He opens it but sees noone, except for a neat-looking dark blue envelope on the doormat. One look and dad already knows what it's about. Dad goes back to the dining table where Elliot has her laptop set up.
Dad: Hey Ells... it's for you.
Elliot's gaze turns to dad then to the pretty-looking envelope in his hand.
Elliot: Ooooh that's such a fancy envelope! Who's it from??
Dad gives her the envelope and Elliot holds it and examines it closely. It's a very pretty thing - matte paper that's very satisfying to touch. Theres nothing written on it except on the middle of one side, in very neat handwriting, it said: To Elliot
Elliot carefully opens the envelope, trying not to rip any of it. Inside was a small card that read:
You are cordially invited to The Grex Statera, to be held this coming Autumn, on the night of Spirit's Eve.
Your return to the roost will be highly anticipated. Do not fail to attend.
- M. Rasmodius
An undescribable fear washed over Elliot.
Elliot: Hey, uh. This is...a really weird letter, dad.
Elliot looks at dad with a puzzled look but dad is just looking back at her, dejectedly.
Elliot: Hello?? What is this about??
Dad: I'm sorry I kept it from you for so long. I knew I should've talked to you about it when you were 16, just like your grandpa did to me. Ahhh, but your mother-
Elliot: What? What's that have to do with this?? Just tell me now, then.
Dad was silent for a bit, trying to find the words.
Dad: We have magic in our bloodline, sweetie.
Elliot just sat there with an exasperated look.
Elliot: What?
Dad: Yes, you heard that right. We have magic in our bloodline. Just like some families out there. Do you remember your friend, Rose?
Elliot: Oh. Woozy Rosie?
Dad: *chuckle* Yep, Woozy Rosie. They had to move to a forest-dense area since they're a family of half-vampires and they needed the shade.
Dad casually drops this information as if it's a part of normal life, not even showing an ounce of his mischievous side. That's when Elliot knew that he wasn't kidding about this.
Elliot: *leans back into the chair, her shoulders slumping* Man, what the hell.......So what are we then?
Dad: Oh, don't worry dear, we're not another species. We're just very well-attuned to nature.
Elliot, confused: What? That's it?
Dad: Yeah. Now you know why we keep getting bothered by animals. It's because I can talk to them.
This revelation shocked Elliot to her core. As if something clicked in her brain. All of those cats and birds in the parks that they visited, the deer, the random lizards and insects that show up from nowhere. The dog, now affectionately looking at dad.
Elliot: Wait so you mean...I can talk to them too????
Dad: Well, not right now as you are since you have forgotten to attune yourself with nature.
Elliot: Excuse me?? What does THAT mean??
Dad: Dear, you've been working yourself to the bone in a concrete jungle. You can't even keep a plant alive. How do you expect that to nurture your magical gift?
Alright, that kinda stung. Elliot was only working for his and his father's sakes. She wants him to retire into comfort, not to spend his retirement days thinking about her well-being, still. She didn't bring this up since it's quite hard to tell parents that you care about them. Maybe this is not a universal experience.
Elliot, still holding the letter: So.....what do we do now?
Dad: I'm going to teach you some farming basics and you're going to move to Pelican Town to watch over the farm.
Elliot: Wait, what? The thingy here won't be until Fall, next year! Why do I have to move to Pelican Town????
Dad: Because you need to revive the farm, honey.
Elliot: But you only stay there for like, a week max in Fall?? How come I need to move there??
Dad, starting to get frustrated: I'm sorry dear, but you're the next heir to the farm, not me. It skips a generation. I'm only a caretaker, in preparation for you.
About 50 thoughts swirled in Elliot's head: What about my job? What about dad? Who takes care of him? How am I going to survive out there? Can I really do this? Am I really just going to drop everything I have right now for something this stupid? Elliot's paranoia was interrupted by dad:
Dad: I know what you're thinking, honey. I'll be fine on my own. And you'll be fine on your own over there. The citizens and your uncle-gramps will take care of you.
Elliot: My what now?
Dad: *chuckle* Grandpa's friends. They will show you the ropes. Y'know, when I first took over the caretaking business for the farm, I didn't know anything either. It was them who helped me out. It's a really nice community out there - they really feel like one big family. Who knows, maybe you'll even find a significant other there?
Elliot, annoyed: Alright, dad.
Dad: *chuckle* Just kidding, dear. Right, since it's quite dead outside how about I teach you about plant care basics in the garage?
Elliot and dad spent a lot of time together that Winter going through everything that could prepare Elliot for what's to come - for the farming aspect, of course. Try as he might, Dad's not really the best person to go to with regards to the magic stuff. The valley has a wizard for that, of course! Maybe even a few.
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Hello, hello, sweet Hanis! I hope you had a great December 12th/13th/14th… and all the following days. Once again, I’m sorry for the delay but the end of the semester is quickly approaching, and you know how it gets. I never want to rush a quick message when I have so much to say and so much to react to–nothing should get cut off for the sake of conciseness (in my opinion at least).
First of all, I wanted to start this letter with well wishes for your uncle and your family. I hope his stay at the hospital is short and that he gets to go back home to his daughter ASAP. Also sending you so many kisses because it mustn’t be easy taking care of your cousin for the whole day. I hope you got to have fun with her anyways–and that you got to rest, too! I cannot imagine of tired you must be.
I’m not entirely sure I’d do a via ferrata again, given the chance. I think it really depends on the difficulty and “the way it looks”. Like, some climbing routes are relatively easy, and you don’t have to fight for your life every step of the way but the environment it’s been put in (really high up) can make it 100% more scary than a more difficult route. Does that make sense? I’m not really fond of being utterly terrified because of how high it is neither do I like intense physical activities. So I would if neither of these things apply. Yes, you could say I’m pretty lazy and not very daring. And I didn’t know you had climbed before! Even if it was only the fourth floor, I found abseiling really impressive and I find it really difficult to actually sit in thin air. Congrats for challenging yourself like that, you’re a warrior <3
I kind of forgot to ask before, but do you live in the countryside? I know you said you were inspired by the scenery of where you live and that it was quite green but I can’t really tell if it’s the countryside or just a green area of a big and bustling city. I’ve personally only ever lived in cities and though I’m yearning for more time closer to nature, I’m not sure how well I would adapt to not having everything close-by, especially the areas with little to no public transports (I hate driving). Do you drive?
It had me snickering that the first thing you said about my mum is that she must be loved by her students dsjdsqlk I think it’s not really the case. Though she loves her job and pupils dearly, she is very strict and gives a sized workload which doesn’t help her approval rating. I know she’s trying her best and wants the best for her students though–and sadly, that’s not the case of every teacher I’ve ever come across. I also can’t believe you’d put yourself down like that! I think your English is great, and though it’s not a super worthy opinion, it is something. I also would say I’m a bit like you, listening to Louis has helped me improve a lot and now here we are, both of us exchanging letters in English. Around here, people don’t really speak English on a daily basis so I haven’t been exposed to each much either despite my mum being an English teacher. She didn’t want to teach me from birth because my big brother was so against the idea he’d refuse to listen to her whenever she spoke English.
The big-head era has come to an end at least. Even though I feel ashamed for it, I also feel–and this is a completely subjective opinion–like it is normal to go through it, especially as someone like me who has been raised as a girl. Girls are constantly reminded they should be more mature than boys and maybe I believed it so much that I thought they were stupid. I’m only kidding, but you see the gist of what I’m saying. Now that I think about it, it must be so contradictory and paradoxical for little girls to be taught they’re more mature and then only see men in position of powers. Anyways dskjds I’m flattered you’d say I sound mature, so maybe my big head is still pretty inflated.
I keep forgetting that each time I say something, I’m dropping hint about who I am. I’ve taken part in the secret santa project before, and I was a lot better at hiding my identity, I think! That being said, I might have also sprinkled fake infos in there to mislead you. Or did I? djshqdhq sorry for the mystery, but you saying you might have an idea as to who I was has awakened a competitive streak in me–and I’m not a competitive person in the slightest so it really is something!
I’m actually so glad you feel comfortable with me, you have no idea! It makes me so happy. <3
The duality of the roles you played is fascinating!! It’s kind of annoying because I wanted to reveal something about something you mentioned in that field, but it would be the biggest give away so let’s not go down that road. I’m sure you were amazing at all of them though–you wouldn’t have been picked out if you weren’t anyway. And no, they were on Tuesday evenings and I hat a lot of fun there. It was difficult at times, especially as I lost confidence when puberty hit, but I have a very fond memory of it. I was kind of envious (not jealous, though) of a girl in my group who I thought was amazing and I admired her a lot and wanted to be more like her.
I would love for you to tell me your favourite BLFF fics! Though I’ve read them all, it would be a pleasure discussing them with you and see if I agree or not with the point you make. But I’m not very good at association title with the actual fic so I’m really shit at recommending stuff dksqdjlqs I’ve reread a BLFF fic from last year called…hm… A Glass House, maybe? I can’t remember dsqkd it was amazing though! It’s a fic in which Harry gets an injury that leaves a scar on his face and he has to learn to live with it when he is persuaded it repulses Louis and scare his kids. (And yeah, I did write fics, but I won’t expend on that because I haven’t much to say dsjdsq I will say I don’t think you’ve read them, though I can’t be sure!)
Listening to music album by album? I could never! Besides Louis, I have very rarely listened to whole albums at once. You mentioned singing, do you enjoy it? I do, though I’m pretty bad at it. I have also noticed that it’s not as much as a reflex as it used to be to sing. I used to love it when I was a kid, especially during long car ride. Do you enjoy long journeys btw or are they just exhausting to you? Also, have you ever played an instrument? I quite like the variety of artists you mentioned for the most part (some I don’t know so I can’t tell dslkdjklq)! And youre probably going to hate me, but at first, I wasn’t super fond of waoyf dsdkjdlsqj I REALLY LIKE NOW, so there’s not need to kill me. But I’d say my favourites are probably Chicago and Holding on to Heartache (the bridge?! Beyond this world). I listened to it while I was walking through the cold and earlier and I was super into my feelings because of it dsqjdklsq
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmh, so I don’t really know how much it’s gonna help you but I’d say Lou baby is the only one I actively stan. I do like other artists but he’s the only one for me (we’re in an exclusive relationship: I keep him warm in my pocket and he gives me kisses). Btw, I don’t know why but I had labelled you (not in the bad sense of the term, like my brain just did it) as Black Pink stan for some reason!
You also mentioned being a scorpio… Do you believe in astrology
I feel like I haven’t asked you many questions this time around, but just know it’s not because I’ve lost interest or because I’m a self-centred asshole (though I might be at times) I just don’t want to be boring with useless questions dqskjds I usually just ask what I’m really curious about!
Thank you for your lovely answers and for being always so kind to me. Your time and loveliness are very much valued over here! I’m sending you kisses, hugs and half of the pear I’m eating dksqdjdkd Take your time to answer, we’re in no rush and please do take care <3
And sorry for the typos djzjsn
hi ss! thanks to you i survived 11th, 13th and 14th pretty well! and i hope you did too. oh you’re in the end of semester, are you also having your finals atm? not sure how it works for you because usually the ends of semester means finals but as for the third year undergrads we had to go for out first internship. either way sending all my lucky charms to your way so that you’ll be able to get through this semester smoothly! and please make sure to keep your body rested too mwah <3
my uncle is already back home! his operation went pretty well and i’m happy he’s with his daughter again, but that doesn’t mean i don’t miss spending time with her, she’s the sweetest kid ever!
i get it! but it doesn’t mean you’re lazy, not everything is our thing! it seems like physical activities are not our #1 favourite thing to do, so what do you prefer to do during your leisure time other than reading fics? i know i told you i enjoy taking a walk outside but i also enjoy spring cleaning if i prefer to stay indoor during particular free days.
ah no actually quite the contrary, my house is just a 5 minute drive from the main city of my state so it gets pretty busy here all the time. but fortunately my residential area is occupied with the trail where all the greens grow along the sidewalks, nobody ever really used that path except me and probably one or two other people that i’ve had rare encounter with. i understand what you’re saying, believe me i also often watch this kind of videos and think how magical it’d feel to be able to live like this but… i’ll be ded before i can predict my next harvesting! sdfghj ik these youtubers don’t actually live their lives accordingly to what is shown but still. i guess the closest we can get to be profiting off from both lifestyles is by growing our own garden in the backyard of our city house, but like you said, (no offence) we have to depend on fairy!lou to grow a single plant :’) j do drive! it’s an everyday thing actually, do you take the public transport everyday? and do you usually take the cab? bus? or the tube?
your mum definitely sounds like an excellent teacher! honestly a good teacher doesn’t mean that they have to be all ‘nice’ all the time, that just won’t work with ‘teaching’. as long as they really have the determination to help their students, and i’m sorry that not all of your teachers were able to show their genuine dedication :/ i thought english was your first language seeing how good your writing is! what is your mother tongue if i may ask? my whole family and the locals that live around me speak malay on a daily basis so i use english the most when i’m back at the campus.
i second that! i don’t believe that attitude and proficiency fall under the biological differences between the genders now that i’ve grown up but i get what you’re saying, whatnot with me being the girl in the family and having a brother so i can feel the differences in how we are taught about certain stuff. and i really do mean what i said about you sounding mature!
msbdhdgdgd so there are lies laying within our letters? </3 jk it’s a smart thing to do actually because my curiosity can get to the point of making a cat resurrected. don’t mean to trigger your newly found competitive side even more but i actually figured out my previous secret santa halfway into our arrangement, so you better come up with more lies!
omg i’ll be sure to ask you about it when the revelation time comes :o
i’m glad that you made enjoyable memories while you were in the lessons, and if you’re thinking of doing it again someday don’t hesitate to go for it! and believe me often times i still feel that way about everyone i see at the campus, including the ones i never talked to… might’ve also co-written jealousy jealousy with olivia rodrigo. like why do we feel like there will always be someone who is better at anything that we have our eyes on :’)
i promise I WILL give you the links in our next/ next next/ next next letter i just have to make sure i won’t miss any that i really really like! and i love that fic! actually skipped other fics in blff to read that one first because i was sold to bene’s amazing visual art for that fic. and can’t say that i’m sorry for other fics because it was such a t read, would reread to someday definitely. oh i hope i’ve read them, god there’s so many things i wanna redeem from you once i find out who you are!
that habit pretty much started since i’ve seen dialogues in romance films/ fics that would sound like “have you listened to this that album?” and i wonder if that conversation were to happen between me and my potential partner, how should i answer if i had only listened to one song from the album and couldn’t answer their question? very weird behaviour me thinks but i can’t help it? you enjoy singing! have you ever been to karaoke? or do you prefer singing alone in your room? i do enjoy singing too, mostly do it when i drive and when no one’s home. i notice that everyone has certain songs that they can sing to yk? dk how it’s possible but if you feel like your singing is bad, maybe you just haven’t found your songs yet!
oh i definitely haven’t played any, my hands are just not built for that i guess sdfghj. do you? OH THANK GOD. i mean, not everyone has to like— wtv everyone has to like waoyf. i like it even more when he performs it live! the whining, the soft voice. i want him to purr into my ears grr. chicago and hoth, my my your taste is brilliant. oh yes the bridge i the reason i wake up feeling swecydal </3 fun fact i LITERALLY was kicking my feet in the campus’ study room when i first listened to chicago. thank god it was a midnight release and there were only two people there.
oh secret santa you’re just giving me another reason to love you :o or is this another sprinkled lie sdfhj either way i still love you mwah <3 omg how so? i mean i do enjoy their music, and i follow jennie on instagram but don’t think it’s enough to be called a ‘blink’! either way i take it as a compliment <3
i’m not that superstitious about the whole astrology signs thingy sdghdj but it’s fun to get pretty invested in it sometimes! some things just fit so well and only a few that seem disconnected? but there are times where i see the whole personality thing gets jumbled up between the signs so i don’t take it seriously. but you get the fun out of it! what about you?
you COULD NEVER bore me out please, you bring out the smile in me with your words, i hope that we’ll still get to talk even after this thing ends because i genuinely enjoy talking to you so much! though i might be bad at replying on time sdfgh sorry </3
and please i appreciate you sending another ask becaus you forgot the xx :( you’re the sweetest ever! and as per usual i’ll wait patiently whenever you decide to hit the reply, take alllllllllll the time you need to write me back! even if you have nothing else to do, but i’m sure you’re pretty occupied with the semester ending so goodluck! you’ll get through it amazingly!
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A Lot OF People In Hong Kong Have The Opportunity To Continue To Higher Education But Why Are Many Still Culturally Unmotivated?—The Respected School Headmaster & Writer Mr Terence Chang Gave An Answer
We get impatient and short-sighted when we compare and compete with other people. Hong Kong is always the winner of the most populous city in the world. The average living space per capita in Hong Kong is less than 1.3 meter for a staggering population of 7 million. Everywhere is jammed with heads. We are forced to compare and compete. An overnight success is the dream of most people here. Immediate monetary results give us instant gratification. For most people, art and culture area are only a remote goal of self-actualization, especially in terms of spiritual enrichment. They will not produce quick material pleasure.
The famous cultural writer Mr Terence CC Chang(張灼祥), former headmaster of the distinguished Diocesan Boys’ School, gave a low moan, “Aww, a man in Hong Kong is often guided more by money considerations than by ideals, emotions and mental well-being. He compares, competes and fancies being as rich as a tycoon. The common situation is that people have no heart or they don’t follow their hearts. Art and culture are not valued because they are intangible. They are usually not treated as part of life and regarded as a non-essential feature of life, reserved for the few, and worst of all, the most time-wasting activity.”
Mr Chang is a very respected writer, radio culture program host and school headmaster in Hong Kong. I would love to learn how he could do many things at the same time. He smiled, “Well, mission and passion! But those were the decomposed days and right now, I am enjoying my easy retirement.” Mr Chang had been the principle of 4 schools including Po Leung Kuk Tang Yuk Tien College, Jockey Club Ti-I College and Diocesan Boys' School.
Born in the Chinese Mainland, Mr Chang later migrated to Hong Kong as his father, also a school headmaster, wanted to establish new ties here. Mr Chang studied well and went to The University of Hong Kong in the 60s and after that, abroad to the USA. He recollected, “I have fond memories from my childhood in a small village of Sheung Shui where many film shoots were taken. I watched actors acting and storytelling by directors. That was the best of culture in the countryside.”
I asked Mr Chang, “As a culturist, how did you promote culture in school?” He gently explained, “2 key words: ‘cultural opportunities’, apart from the usual ways of just disseminating knowledge included in a syllabus. The extracurricular activities must provide opportunities for a young boy or girl to experience and build connections with the spiritual beauties such as music, drama, painting, design and literary art. Such exposure is important as kids will be inspired and therefore aspire. They will gradually emulate who they are surrounded by and what they ultimately decide to become!”
Mr Chang paused for a while, “But it is not good enough to ‘know’. After seeing and listening, kids must learn to appreciate! Art appreciation is an important process. It helps us bring our own knowledge, experience and taste to the ability of feeling things which are invisible between the art works and us.”
I was eager to know, “Education, even at university level, is common in Hong Kong but why are many people still culturally unmotivated?” He pondered, “Hong Kong is a material and speculative city. Confidence often comes from money. Many people here want to grab money and go. There is nothing deep down inside them. I think when more and more people realize the satisfaction from a nice concert or a book is greater than a Rolex watch or a Hermès handbag, things can be different. I am positive! More and more young ones today care about work- life balance and I think the next trend should be a money-and-soul balance! Not making a lot of money should never be a shame or disgrace. Knowing nothing about history, literature, philosophy, film, music or art in future should be!”
I asked, “Hong Kong now has a government bureau to promote culture. Any advice for them?” Mr Chang crossed his fingers, “Our government used to and is still very practical and material. All must be counted by numbers and for them a number simply means success. For example, we want to tell others how many events, activities, venues and audience seats will increase per year. This can be a red herring or the wrong tree. It may show that the government does not fully understand what culture is all about and what it is meant for. The real embarkment should be the formulation and promotion of a set of social norms and human values that can be promoted to transform people here into civilised and appreciative beings. The real success must be that we can feel, on an everyday basis, that a lot of people in the city will change their coarse behaviour, and not the cosmetic phenomenon that Hong Kong is a place of cultural happenings. The latter is often money-driven and will not be sustainable. The real cultural person need not go out to attend events and yet, say, by being alone or staying at home, he can be very cultural. Culture in Hong Kong must be social education.”
I slurred, “Obviously, you are not a great fan of the new ambitions like Hong Kong being a cultural economy or art business centre?” Mr Chang grinned, “I am not against it. The side benefits will surely help a community become a better place. I am simply worried that such means will become an end. A real cultural society will not in any event be born if art and culture are used as tradable goods.”
I insisted on digging out more, “Master, for you, what is an ideal cultural society?” He looked at me wittily, “Ha ha, by good education at home, at school and in the community, our people will enjoy, apart from making and spending money, reading a book, going to an arthouse cinema, listening to some quiet music, talking with friends about the true meaning of life. In other words, they will always have a heart which is seeking the spiritual emancipation of happiness!”
After the interview, I could not forget what Mr Chang told me, “Maurice, you don't have to let me check what you will write because for me, writers are to be respected and trusted.” A gentleman of real culture is so different.
Culture is not a bed of artificial roses. It is a beautifully craggy mountain where the wild river runs.
MLee
Chinese Version 中文版: https://www.patreon.com/posts/ba-cui-nan-shu-75619332?utm_medium=sharesheet&utm_source=sharesheet&utm_campaign=postshare_creator&utm_content=join_link
Book Fair 2019: Terence Chang and Chu Wan Pin https://youtu.be/S1i5tTs4ldQ Acknowledgement-HKTDC
Terence Chang – How to make Children enjoy reading https://youtu.be/QYRvoYSuhpA Acknowledgement – Sun Channel
Movie “Kung Fu” Trailer https://youtu.be/PRbPXbgsKyE Acknowledgement-KungFuTrailers
Diocesan Boys’ School Open Day https://youtu.be/1XVmOhoTiB4 Acknowledgement-少少肥多多趣
#Diocesan Boys’ School#PLK Tang Yuk Tien College#Jockey Club Ti-I College#The University of Hong Kong#Rolex#Hermès#Literary Art#Money-driven#Cultural Society#Arthouse Cinema#Spiritual Emancipation
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Just some general warnings and disclaimers, this is an aged up Victorian era AU that I did a sort of collab with @bakugotrashpanda, so please check out BTP’s work as well. We had so much fun discussing this idea and breathing life into it, we would love to hear how these stories made you feel. Please also note that the woman in the banner is NOT the set skin tone for reader so please feel free to have that match your own skin tone! Also this is one of my bigger works coming in at a little over 14,000 words! (maybe a part two idk) but enjoy~
The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food.
Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not.
Countless eyes rake over your long dress, always choosing a color so deep in hue it is often mistaken for black. They often murmur curiosities as they ponder over what exactly you are mourning.
Little do they know it is your freedom.
Tonight you are in blood red with matching gloves to your elbows, diamonds, garnets and rubies drip from your throat and ears. A sight to be seen in your bold dark colors that are often frowned upon during the bright season of spring and summer.
A bold male approaches and yet the closer he gets to your stunning form the more meek he becomes. He nods his head and reaches for your hand, pressing his lips to your gloved knuckles.
"May I have your first dance?" He peers up at you as you stare down with an icy glare. Removing your hand with deadly precision from a man you know of but could not care less about.
"You may not." You say simply and all he can do is stew in his rejection, affirming your wishes with a small nod. Another male in a smooth storm grey suit approaches. His large hand grasping onto your fingers, bringing your knuckles to his lips.
"You look exquisite my dear. Would you honor me with your first dance?"
"I shall not." Another subtle yet swift removal of your hand from his, wishing you had worn two pairs of gloves for this sniveling little asshole. Not everyone knew his secret love for abusing women but you did. He would never get the pleasure of dancing with you and in the two years since your introduction into the market you've made sure he had no one to wed. Using the power and respect people had towards your Father's name, towards you for guidance, ultimately steering them away from this pathetic sack of bones.
And with your power you were dubbed the icy hot debutante of Alryne, fierce as a flame so hot, it felt cold.
You wear a neutral face, but you do not smile, making yourself a touch unapproachable. This already weeds out the weak men who want nothing more than to suck the blood and money from your father's estate.
But it wasn't as if the neutral face was easy to achieve, oftentimes you had to fight a scowl. For two years you've hated every second of every ball, party, or soiree since the Queen smiled in your favor during your first debut. She often praised, as did your mother, your cold precision, quick wit, and intelligent political decisions that were so well disguised that men just thought you modest.
When in actuality you were playing the game, and since you were being forced to play by your father then by Hell's flames you would win it all.
The first half of the ball drags in stupor of tedious repetition as you idly chat with women of various titles to gather any information you could without revealing your own hand.
Besides all of the pestering gnats, everyone knows that your first dance is always reserved for important males, to never approach until after the two of your six stamps have already been taken. Even then there was a high chance of rejection, as there were no men of value to be seen.
At least not yet. For as long as you could remember the higher ranked males arrived a touch late, "fashionably late" they claim. Abhorrently annoying is what you call it.
Fashionably late men such as Lord Bakugou, son to the Duke of Summer or his distant cousin Lord Kirishima, son to the Duke of Spring.
Bakugou arrives first, his grin wolfish as he scans the crowd, women flock to his arrogance in troves, although he ignores them. He has one woman in his sights yet it is not the woman he stands before. You give a small courtesy as you speak.
"My Lord." Offering your hand gently.
"My Starlight." He presses his lips to your silky glove for a long moment unable to keep his cocky smirk off of his face, "May I take your first dance?"
Fighting to keep the delighted smile off of your face you offer a flutter of your lashes. He kisses your knuckles once more as if you needed convincing but the two of you know what you are doing.
"You may." And with that his wolfish grin returns as he sweeps you onto the dance floor, showcasing your abilities as he shows off his own. Not to mention the dance floor is a great place to talk in private. His hand lingers just above your lower back, firm in his grip as his other hand holds yours almost delicately.
"We match tonight, my Starlight. A brilliant touch." He guides you along the floor with ease, his eyes gesturing towards his vest and tie.
"I only took an educated guess as to what you would wear, my Lord."
"Do not sell yourself short. I know how sharp that mind is." Another wolfish grin, his eyes never leaving yours while feeling the court gaze upon the two of you. You give him a knowing smile before asking.
"Any luck with her majesty, the prized diamond?" You ask, eyes blazing with curiosity. He smirks again, only his eyes revealing his true scoff as he twirls you in your jeweled slippers.
"I did as you instructed and went with my father to that dreaded stay at the countryside Manor, how did you know her Majesty and Princess Amila would be close by."
"I took an educated guess." A blatant lie that has him grinning from ear to ear. He leans closer, pulling the attention of the ladies especially as his ember eyes burn into you.
"Far more than an educated guess." He spins you again and you fight the tightness in your gut. Enjoying the dance as he parades you around the room as if to say look at what I have that you could never.
Even if the two of you agreed you would never be his. The two of you having struck up an arrangement of sorts on your first dance. He was forced by his Grace to ask at least one woman to dance and he had only chosen you with hopes that you would say no.
But you loved the honest, irritated look that lingered in his eyes and on his lips. So of course you said yes as misery loves company. It was then he told you not to fall for him as he had his eyes set on the Crown, you laughed loudly and said "As if I would ever fall for an arrogant pig such as yourself, my Lord." His smile was wild as he enjoyed your insult, it was then you told him you would help him with the Crown, only if he made you his first and last dance of the evening at every event.
Back then he had hesitantly agreed, now he can see how far your scheming mind went. Saw the numerous callers and suitors who loitered in your parlor, the extravagant flowers that they sent in excess. The rings they bestowed to you as they dropped to one knee, bold enough to peacock the large diamonds in front of other callers.
And all after Bakugou had done as you asked for only three parties. He got a front row seat to rejection every single time, which in turn started the talk, the gossip, that this city loved. You were desired because of how you painted yourself and in turn made Lord Bakugou desired as well. Talked about, all because he was the only male who had your approval.
He loved your scheming mind so much he could kiss you, but alas you did not wear a crown. Although you often had a braid of jewels atop your head, sadly you were not kin to royalty, only a Baron's daughter after all.
Bakugou wonders what you could have done as a queen. He would think you an empress.
"Is that all the detail I get? Just a confirmation that I was correct about their holiday?" He spins the two of you in step, hand guiding you although you did not need it. Having memorized every step to every dance there was since before your debut.
"She saw me."
"And?!" You can hardly keep up the façade of calm collection as you wait.
"And she flushed. Her cheeks were as red as any rose, Starlight, she was a rare red diamond sparkling by the lake. She must already be in love with me." You snort, unable to stop the smile on your lips.
"I've never heard you so poetic before. Normally you leave that to Lord Kirishima. How many times did you run into her? Not more than three I hope."
"Oi, I am a well versed student and I listened to my teacher. I made her wait for the fourth and denied it. Left her in wonder and hope as you said." He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up to your dress line touching your bare skin with his beneath your guise of hair. The sensation of his warm fingers against your cool skin does not go unnoticed.
"Are you practicing for your dance with the 'rare red diamond' now?" You taunt, earning that chest tightening wolf grin.
"I'm only doing as my teacher has instructed."
"Well the Princess will fall for you the moment you kiss her hand."
"One can only hope. Her official debut is less than a month away. I want it to be perfect." His eyes shimmer with plotting mischief as does yours.
"So it shall."
The music flows and ebbs to the end of the song as Bakugou deposits you right back where he got you. Bringing your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he holds your gaze once more.
"My Starlight." When he straightens you curtsy.
"My Grace." With that he leaves, heading towards the table of sweets and beverages, you were sure he would be ordering bourbon. Your mother clears her throat from her chair, the out of season silk blanket over her thick skirts pulls at your heart. She sits on that plush chair as if it were her throne.
"You dance with Lord Bakugou often." An observation.
"Indeed." A dry retort.
"I am sure Lord Kirishima will be your next dance, correct?"
"One can only hope."
"So you have an eye for a Duke's son?"
"I am happy to dance with those deserving, Mother." Your mother keeps her eyes on the turning bodies on the hardwood floor, Kirishima makes his way through the crowd once he spies you. Your mother turns to face you as she says
"Is the Duke of Winter's son deserving?"
"Hmm, he has three sons, mother." You keep your eyes away from her until she finally looks back into the crowd.
"Ah yes but only one is ever at these events." You follow your mother's gaze and they fall upon the Lord, he is the third son, he opted to chase after the world of medicine rather than women. Earning his doctorate much faster than his peers, he only just returned to conduct his practice in Alryne.
Pity he returned at all.
He catches your eye and you make a point to turn your cheek, unable to stomach his heterochromatic, condensing gaze. Your turned cheek was as close to fuck you as you could ever say to the high and mighty Lord. Still the words burned on your tongue as if you swallowed acid.
"It is not as if he ever dances mother. Therefore, how can I give him my attention? As you taught me a woman must wait to be asked as it is every woman's dream to be wed to a handsome, skilled dancer." Out of the corner of your eye you can feel her displeased look before she straightens.
"At least do not string along Lord Kirishima, that boy is not as zealous as his cousin." She says just as the large man slips through the last throng of the crowd.
"My shining gem." He smiles with sharp teeth before he places a chaste kiss atop your hand.
"My Lord." A curtsy before he asks.
"May I have this dance?" His smile is plastered on his face as he knows your answer.
"You may." Kirishima sweeps you across the floor in a different manner than Bakugou. Lord Kirishima is more flirtatious in the way that he guides you. Always choosing more of the upbeat dances as opposed to his cousin's serious selection. You do not hesitate to go in for the kill.
"So when do you plan to ask Lady Mina for her hand?" He blushes at your words. Biting the inside of his lip subtly, a habit you could only notice from being up close.
"Have you even attempted to court her? What fear plagues you, Lord?" Confusion dots your features as a sad smile paints his soft lips.
"I am not sure she would- That we would be an ideal fit." Kirishima admits, turning you gracefully, pulling you close to his body. Scandalous some would say had the two of you been an inch closer.
"Well my Lord, I believe, had you actually talked to her while the two of you danced, as I suggested, then you would come to find out that she is lovely. Pure hearted as she is honest in this game seeking love. Most women here are making attempts to move up in position, my Lord. As a Duke's first son the title of Grace is yours to master. She is a delight and air is not the only thing between her ears as some of these…"You survey the room as everyone watches with greedy eyes, "Vultures."
He laughs never used to your own unwavering honesty. He knows you are not participating by your own free will, he knows because you are helping himself and his cousin when he was sure you could have had anyone in this room.
If the Majesty's nephew, Prince of the Yarrow were to attend even one ball this season, Kirishima was sure you would have his attention too.
He twirls your body away from his and brings you back to the safety of his sturdy form. Your eyes are molten determination as you all but hiss
"Ask her to dance next. You know the host prefers the set to be serious, flirtatious, and then a slow dance. It will be the perfect time to talk."
Lord Kirishima sighs, squeezing your hand as he guides the two of you closer to your mother so he can leave you in her company.
"You could turn any dull man into something more. Whoever wins your hand is getting a precious gem indeed." He kisses your hand as the music begins to change into something slower as you had predicted.
"One shall only hope." You curtsy as he takes his flushed neck towards a certain Countess. Your mother gives you a knowing look and you offer her a cat smirk. She shakes her head but even she cannot hide her own satisfied smile.
A blonde male approaches, as he does every third ball after he ensures your first two dances have been taken. The flamboyant male has not once asked for a dance first, trying to be just as calculating as you. Although he is much more obvious.
You suppose it was not half bad for a male.
"My lady." He bends lower than he should for his station in life, but he is obviously copying the cousins before him having seen how it makes you smile.
Lavender eyes shine up at you as the Viscount brings his lips to your gloved hand. You debate if you should say yes tonight. Having left him in the dark as your desire to dance with him solely depended on your mood.
"May I show the room the grace in which steals the breath from my lungs?" Your eyes smirk as your lips form a small smile. It seems flattery would earn him a dance tonight.
"You may."
The Viscount smiles with delight as he gently takes you to the dance floor, holding you to him as he takes you across the hardwood. The candle lights play along your features as Monoma's face grows soft. Had he been anyone else his gaze might have brought a flush about you. The two of you shared a few dances before, he has sat in your parlor in the time he has attempted to court you and the flowers he sends are always the most expensive.
He has even brought you chocolate from a month's long trip. Even you had to admit that was thoughtful, not too many people knew of your Achilles heel. A small part of you thought that if no one else would do, at least this man would bring you luxurious chocolates.
"No trips this season?" You smile politely, he blinks as he seems to come to.
"Only if I can take you with me." He smiles, a hint. You pretend yourself modest and look away to fight the roll of your eyes.
Maybe chocolate would not be enough to sate you.
His eyes flicker to your mother as a question forms on his lips.
"Neither your brothers nor the Baron attended tonight?"
"Ah unfortunately no. My mother is my chaperone tonight." You say tilting your head, he turns so you can face her, stepping slowly as the song lulls on.
"I am elated she is well enough to attend." He smiles, you cannot tell if it reaches his eyes so instead you offer
"As am I."
The rest of the night is filled with rejection tumbling from your rouged lips as champagne flutes seem to find their way into your hand.
"Not too much of that dear or you will not be able to enjoy the company of your suitors."
"Truly a pity." You say taking another from a passing waiter. Eyes trained on Lord Iida and the lovely dancer in his hands, a blue dress sweeping across the floor and a white carnation nestled in her hair.
A beautiful touch and it pays homage to their first dance before they were even wed.
The love that embraced the couple could turn anyone in the room green with envy.
You down your flute as you reach for another.
Night brightens into morning much too soon as curtains are ripped open in your room.
"My lady callers will be here soon." Rose, your handmaiden says softly, "I have a bath waiting for you."
You groan in response having not had enough sleep after pouring over your drafts for your book until your candle snuffed itself out.
"Turn them all away Rose." You growl turning away from the irritating light, could it not have rained this morning to delay the suitors as it always did in this forsaken town?
"She will do no such thing." Your mother says as she walks into your room with her cane, her hand gripping onto the golden beak of a bird.
"Mother, why not marry off Hendrix or Hideki?"
"Hendrix must apprentice under your Father for a period of time while Hideki can do as he pleases for now. He is only 20, besides he makes an excellent chaperone does he not? He isn't too nosy nor does he neglect his duties to intimidate pushy men." She pushes some of your hair back as she sighs, "Although I doubt you need help in that manor."
"I deserve a strong bloodline, so I will do what I must to ensure that. Even if my face has to be scary at times." You and your mother share a laugh before she adds.
"Your face is far from scary my dear." She touches your cheek softly rising from the bed to allow you to get ready, "The suitors shall arrive within the hour. Make haste."
"Yes mother." You half groan rising to wash. Enjoying the warm water that Rose has so kindly added aromatic flora and citrus to. Once you enter your bedroom Rose has a dress picked out for you, waiting for your final approval. You nod allowing Rose to assist you with your corset and strings of your dress before you pick out jewelry to match your silver finery. You choose a silver bracelet with little diamonds as stars that Lord Bakugou had given you for your birthday this past year, smiling down at the small thing before assessing yourself in the mirror.
"What do you think Rose, should I add some rouge to my lips?" She gives you a smile of delight.
"And your cheeks too, my Lady."
Breakfast is served in the parlor as it consists mostly of fruits and finger pastries that will be served to the other guests. Hideki comes down in a fine and deep sapphire suit.
“Sister.” He gives a smirk to which you nod.
“Brother.”
“And what trouble will you get into today?” He stage whispers, causing you to cut him a glare as your father comes around to loom in the arch way of the parlor.
“Remember, you need to pick a husband this season or I will pick for you. It is disgraceful to have gone through two seasons at your age.”
“I am only twenty four, dearest Father..”
“That just proves my point. You have a month before I extend an offer to the Duke's-.” He takes in a sharp breath to chide you further only for his Grace to swoop in and save the day.
“Baron.” Bakugou says, his eyes challenging as your father bows his head. As Bakugou makes his way towards the delicate foods. Father cuts you a knowing glare. As if to say I know your games child.
You offer a sweet smile as you make your way towards your small writing desk, fighting off the urge to groan outwardly. You just wanted to work on your manuscript or read for that matter. Instead you would have to entertain men who cared not what you thought only what your pretty mouth would not say. They would swarm you, demanding attention as you waved them off gently, half you had never even spoken too. Bakugou gives you a wicked smile from beside you as if he could read your thoughts. At least he always sat closest to you, saving you in a way although you never instructed him to sit close.
He just always had.
"Do you not want to play the piano today, my shining Gem?" Kirishima asks from the door.
"Ah I am not sure I am in the mood for it, my Lord."
"Easier to avoid people as the bench is only meant for one." Bakugou gives a devilish smirk, Kirishima almost pouts, his sullen expression does not go unnoticed by his cousin.
"It has been an eon since you last played for us." Bakugou adds.
"Am I to be your song bird today?" You cut a glare at him.
"Yes, Starlight I believe you are." It seems it had no effect. Sighing you stand, collecting your skirts as your wrist twinkles in the morning sun. Garnet eyes bore into the delicate wristlet. Your fingers pluck a key here or there until you begin to play. Losing yourself in the music as you sing ballads from ages ago, melding them into songs you've written until it all sounds like a cohesive piece. Each old song is lost in transition to the new one, time ticks on but you do not notice the string of men who come and go from your parlor. Resting your voice for the time being as your fingers fly across the keys to something you composed while thinking of your father and his ever pushing hand towards a Duke's son you had great distaste for. The notes are sharp, almost jarring at times yet still the piece is stunning. In that time you had not noticed the lavender eyed man who sat closest to you, right in front of the piano in the corner of the couch. The finger cramping song ends on a somber, harsh note.
"What a beautifully charged song." Monoma says breathlessly.
“Well I was thinking of my enemies when I composed it.” You smile at the sunshine blonde with a devilish grin, he feels unsettled by it but says nothing nonetheless. His lavender eyes glance over to the wolves at the back of your den. Hideki gives him a small nod, Kirishima a soft smile but Bakugou gives him a glare that feels like Monoma is gripping needles.
He swallows thickly, adjusting himself on the plushed silk of the couch before your small piano.
“Ah before I forget.” He smiles pulling out a box setting it atop the polished wood. Gifts were a natural part of courtship or so your mother said. You offer a smile, grabbing for the box with poised eagerness and yet not overly so.
Not that you were excited but you had to pretend to be. You unbox the obvious jewelry and fight back the distaste as you stare down at a gaudy, overly large necklace. The colors are a soft green and yellow, colors you avoid for many reasons.
“Thank you.” You think to add a chord or two to your unnamed song in honor of Monoma. Bakugou laughs loudly from the back of the room, feeling how much you hate the gift, you look over your shoulder to send him a glare that he can only smile at.
After hours of trepid and boring conversation Monoma takes his leave.
“Another evening my Lady.” He smiles softly and you return it half heartedly.
“Another evening.” Lavender looks over your shoulder before Monoma clears his throat
“Your Grace and your Grace.” He bows his head, the ash blonde and redhead nod in unison.
"Shall we go and drink my high friends?" Hideki asks, hoping for an excuse to leave the stuff house. He was more than over bearing witness to gag worthy stares and compliments some of these men gave you.
"An excellent idea!" Kirishima exclaims, standing before stopping by you. He takes your gloveless hand with a sharp, flirtatious smile.
"My shining gem." He presses his lips to your skin and you return his smile.
"My Lord." He nods and takes his leave, Hideki at his heels as Bakugou approaches. He does an exaggerated sigh unable to hide his smirk.
"Little songbird how will I ever get through the night without my Starlight?" He holds your hand, lowering his upper half as did his cousin before him.
"I suppose you will fumble in the dark."
"If only I had the pleasure." He purrs as he presses his lips to your bare skin. Suddenly his fingers are too warm as he holds your gaze, he looks as if he could devour you.
Lest he forget he is staring down a panther himself.
"Have fun fumbling in the dark by yourself, my Lord." You remove your hand and look out of the corner of your eye at him. He backs towards the door of the room.
"I should hope to have thoughts of Starlight." He calls before he disappears into the hall. You tap a key as your mind wanders before you rise, famished and ready for dinner before you would take a long night of writing.
A month passes by faster than you'd like and you find yourself outside of the ballroom in the grand hall of the castle. Soft music filters in through the doors as your Father insisted the family be a bit late this evening.
For he wanted to make a statement and one at your expense.
"If Duke Enji's son asks you for a dance you will oblige." Your father hisses, his large hand curling around your bicep. You bare your teeth, stepping out of his grip as you collect yourself.
"He has three." Acid drips from your tongue as sure as morning dew.
"The doctor. Not the failure first born and not the inadequate second. The third. Shoto. Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"
"I think you will not weaponize her. So do as I please and decline." You hold his burning glare as you add, "If the Duke's family is as bad off as you make it seem."
"Oh I think you shall accept his dance. Or so help me God I will burn every book your ill, grief stricken mother ever shoved into your scrubby little hands." He leans closer, a nasty smile forming as his lips, "And if that is not enough I will throw your manuscript into the fire for fodder."
Your eyes blaze with a rage that ignites beneath your skin, burning your blood as your eyes make unspoken promises. When I am through with you
You part your lips to retort but your eye catches Hendrix and Hideki, their eyes filled with pity before your mother slowly approaches.
Father chose his battleground well, knowing you would be unable to react as you pleased and with Bakugou already at the party there was no other male to save you. You bite your tongue until you taste blood.
"Is everything alright?" Mother asks tentatively, fussing with your hair, "Darling you must mind your face, my love."
You swat her away, breathing through your nose as if you were a dragon. Heat still dancing in your veins as you allow your feet to move on their own.
"Announce me. Only me. And do not announce another soul until I am beyond the last step." You hiss to the harbinger whose eyes grow wide before he nods. His voice booms over the murmurers of the crowd and once eyes begin to land on you they are silenced.
Your eyes are set hard and as cold as stone as you look over the crowd, slowly descending the steps in your deep ombre gown. Starless night black from the bodice before it lightens gradually into a charcoal grey, glittering crystals sewn into the material shine in the candle light like miniature stars. Your gloves followed the same gradual pattern except it seemed as if each finger was dipped in glittering silver and atop your wrist was your favorite piece, diamonds winking in the low light set into silver pointed stars. Woven in your hair were diamonds and pale citrine alike forming a crown in its own nature.
Had Her Royal Highness not have already been announced and seated it would be easy to mistake you for the Crown. Considering how you commanded attention and held yourself, eyes looking at no one but seeing all.
The envy, the awe, the lust.
A pivotal moment was coming, the last three stairs is where a woman would normally hold out their hand, expecting their favorite suitor to take action but you did not hold out your hand. Keeping one firmly on the dark wood of the banister while the other was eloquently posed beside you. Even if you had held out your hand the men in the room were too stunned to step up to help you. This allowed a soft, devilish smile to form on your painted lips as they performed exactly as you had planned. Finally your gem encrusted slipper touched the hardwood, parting the crowd before the spell was broken by the announcement of the rest of your family. The room let out a collective breath and instantly erupted in hot gossip. All of it falling on deaf ears as you grabbed onto a flute of trusted champaign.
From across the room you felt burning garnet eyes on you, you met them briefly before sipping at your bubbly beverage. He begins to cross the sea of bodies when a large man steps into your view.
His eyes are cold as they bore into you, a shining sapphire paired with a smokey quartz. Distaste curdles your stomach as you fight to keep your face neutral and your eyes trained on him. Fans block painted lips as they spread more gossip about the man before you.
"Is she ensnaring another Duke's son?"
"She is becoming too haughty for a Baron's daughter."
"Do you think she insulted the Crown with her entrance?"
"Would you allow me your first dance?" His deep voice cuts through the vultures' cries pulling you back to him. He has your glittering left hand in his. Brining the dazzling glove to his lips in greeting, there is no joy in his gemstone gaze.
The hot rage bears its teeth again as it surges through your blood like liquid fire, burning so hot it felt cold as it licked at your bones. Your lip barely twitches, No poised on your tongue as your father's grating voice echoes in your head.
"Think of your ailing mother...would you abandon her for such vile, pointless ambitions?"
And so your mouth finally forms the words.
"You may." He looks surprised, surrounding faces mirror his own before he fully takes your hand. Guiding you to the floor during one of your favorite songs that you always sat out as no dance partner ever dared the secret, advanced steps. You were steeling yourself for disappointment
Shoto's grip on your body is tight but not uncomfortable as he sweeps you across the dance floor, twirling you, guiding you as he holds your gaze. His stare is heavy and intense in a different manner from Bakugou's with a hint of something that could be mistaken as flirtatious. But you saw it for what it was, discontent.
As the song pushed on the discontent seemed to change into something new entirely as he showcased your skill while hiding his own. Allowing you to twirl away from him in several rotations that would make even the most skillful dancer fearful of misstep and yet you breathed in the music as if it were precious air. Neither of you notice how the other dancers give you room, allowing for more twirls and advanced steps as the two of you are becoming lost to the music. His fingers brush your bare skin as he pulls you back to him for guided, sharp steps as the music heightens. His skin brushes yours again, electricity thrums beneath the pads of his fingers before he sends you into another dizzying rotation but to you it was nothing. Briefly you wonder if this were a test until you see the soft smile on his lips when you return to his arms safely for the final set of guided steps before the music were to abruptly end, just as the dance was intended. His eyes were glued to yours the entirety of the dance, softening with each step.
Both of you stop in beat with the last soaring note panting as the movement seems to catch up with the two of you. Neither of you realize how quiet the room is until clapping comes from the royal dais high above the room, the rest of the crowd follows suit. Shock melts into a smile as your eyes return to his. A sharp pain rings out in his chest.
"Not bad for a Baron's daughter." Disgust settles on your face faster than you can stop it spewing from your lips.
"Not bad for a recluse of a Duke's son." You tilt your head up, fighting the snarl of your lip as his face becomes so mind numbingly neutral while his eyes darken. Shoto drops you off by your mother only for Bakugou to approach, swiftly bringing you to the floor for a slow song.
"Starlight. How did I not know you could dance like that?" He is astonished by your skill, "I've never seen you so happy. Maybe the Duke of Winter's third son will do you justice yet."
You scoff but all Bakugou can do is offer you a deadly smile.
"Enough about my dead end dancing." Your eyes glance towards the dias, the Princess cannot look away from the two of you, "This should be enough for the Princess to want to dance soon."
It is Bakugou's turn to scoff.
"Are you sure she is even going to have the opportunity to dance? No one is even allowed on the stairs to their enclave."
"Ah but this is her debut. The Queen will allow it, besides the princess cannot keep her gaze off of a certain ash blonde."
"How could she ever?" Your laugh rings out, it warms even the coldest hearts as Bakugou pulls you closer to him. Heat radiates from his body in a calming manner, your fingers squeeze his.
"Arrogant as ever." You smile, thinking how you will miss dancing with him or even having him at the back of your parlor to laugh with over sad attempts at your hand, "Remember once you take her one dance for the night, she must be your first and last dance of the night in the future, if not your only."
Bakugou cannot hide the dejection in his eyes even as he feigns cockiness.
"I am a well versed student, remember?" His fingers brush over your skin, his middle finger tracing a small circle.
"The best student I could ask for." The music comes to a close on more than just the song as Bakugou returns you to your family. He presses a long kiss to your glittering glove.
"Until we meet again, my Starlight." He holds your stare.
"Until then my Grace." With that the night sets into motion as you turn down dances left and right. Eyeing a ruby haired man who twirls a certain countess in his hands. As the music ends the Queen stands earning a hushed crowd.
"My daughter, the Royal Princess shall take the dance floor, she will only allow one dance on the night of her debut." It is not a shock that she is allowed so little but there is no worry on Bakugou's face. The princess straightens at the top of the stairs, trying to exude the same commanding energy you did. She falls short in power but outshines you in other wordly innocence and grace. As if she were a lily that only bloomed for the moon, her beauty unmatched in her pale pink dress. Carefully she guides the layers of it down the steps as diamonds and pearls drip from her hair and throat. She tries to keep her eyes from sticking to a broad shouldered man and yet at the same time from wandering, as she stares at the back wall of the room.
As she nears the third step Bakugou struts towards his prize with the ease of a relaxed swagger, glaring at men as he passes before he reaches the bottom of the steps. Extending his hand to the Princess just as she hits the third step from the bottom. She cannot keep the smile off of her face as her gloved hand claps onto his bare fingers. He bows deeply, raising her hand above him to look from beneath long lashes before he brings his lips to the silk.
"Your Royal Highness, my shining diamond. You are truly the envy of the night." A flush gives the Princess' lack of experience away, "May I have this dance?"
"You may." It is a breathy answer before Bakugou sweeps her off of her feet. Charming her with each calculated step and arrogant quip. The princess smiles wide and almost pouts once the music begins to ebb. Bakugou returns her to the stairs, supporting her hand as long as he can before she rises out of reach.
But to Bakugou she never was and never will be unattainable.
Before the night is over an envelope is pressed into your hands with the Crown's seal pressed into the wax. You quirk your brow, tucking it away to be read at home.
"I am so elated you came." Her voice is like honey as the butler opens the doors to a parlor so large it could hold your entire home. She guides you towards a small table and fights with the layers of her silk dress before sitting.
"How could I reject a personal invitation from her majesty?" You sit across from her, eyes going over the deck of cards and a set of tea.
"Well, believe it or not, I do not have the pleasure of friends, so please call me Amila."
"Everyone would desire to be a friend of the Crown, your Royal Highness." You counter, quickly she points her fan towards you, tapping your side of the small ornate card table.
"Ah but you do not have the desire to befriend the Crown, so I have high hopes that you will befriend me for me." She smiles, a certain gleam to her eye before she says, "Now let's talk about handsome Bakugou and how well you played me."
Your face gives nothing away as you look up from the cards you've been dealt. Your mind rushes down all possible avenues but you know to avoid the one of playing dumb. It is obvious that the Princess has a keen eye.
"Surely you'll reveal to me what gave us away."
"After that dance Bakugou had with me, had I been anyone else he would have returned to you. He either has his only dance with you or his last dance with you. I figured him or Lord Kirishima to be heavily interested in you. You are a sparkling gem amongst the coal down there so I know you have many callers and suitors. But the last to leave are always Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima. That is what has thrown me off the scent." You laugh at her honesty of the knowledge she has obviously collected about you or was tactful enough to guess.
"This is what we do, your Royal Highness." Your gloved hand gestures to the table, "I take them for all that they are worth." An honest giggle leaves Amilia's lips.
"For that I am grateful and some would dare say I am in your debt."
"A brazen statement." Your eyes return to your cards, "I would not state it as a debt although I am happy to receive your gratitude. Especially since it is in the form of cards and cake."
A laugh falls from her lips as a smile settles on yours. The round of cards continues. You win the first few rounds and then Amelia has a lucky hand. Winning the last white tea macaron.
"Did you allow me to best you?"
"Lady Luck just happened to take favor of the Crown."
"Or maybe she took pity. " She smiles, fingers fidgeting nervously, "Would you care to admire the art? Mother allows me to have this as my own personal parlor so I decorate it as I wish."
"I would love to admire some of these lovely paintings. Starting with the one behind you." You stand, heading to the large piece you had been eyeing for some time during the games. You could tell by the stroke of the brush that the artist was newer to painting but they were quite talented, the strokes almost went unnoticed even by your sharp eye.
Most importantly were the emotions the work of art evoked from the viewer.
Silently the two of you drank in the large oil painting. The canvas colored in deep pinks, reds and oranges as the sun laid to rest to allow its lover the full scope of the sky. Shadows stretched far and towards the viewer and if one paid close attention they would notice the black cat in the corner with two large moon eyes.
You especially liked this painting, the ease it made you feel even earning a small smile.
"I can already tell this one is by far my favorite, your Royal Highness you have a fine eye for art." She blushes at your compliment, twisting some of her low hanging hair. You keep your amusement of her flustering to yourself, eyes trained on the swirling colors of the rippling blue mirror of the sky, looking for a signature.
Odd, there isn't a looping set of initials in the corner like most have. As if reading it on your face she speaks.
"I- I am the artist…" It is shy and soft, unlike the Princess and you realize the weight of the truth. That she had not heard one genuine compliment of anything that she had ever done.
All she would ever receive is flattery and only for the hopes of kindness from the Crown. Finally time swallows up her sudden meekness as she blurts out.
"Are you sure Lord Bakugou is not in love with you? I know you fancy Lord Todoroki, Doctor Shoto."
"I do not fancy the Doctor, he simply is the most logical option I have currently, he would make a fine partner and husband. The seasons have not brought anyone new and my days of spring are limited." You idly move to the next painting as you speak, "As far as Lord Bakugou, he and I are too much alike. Too ambitious for our own good, we'd either explode or implode I'm afraid. Like some tragic star in the vast galaxy."
"You would not marry for love?"
"It is best to marry for a strong partnership, love is a possible byproduct, however it proves to be a rarity. Love comes with time, your Royal Highness, a luxury us women do not have." You glance her way, "Not even a Princess is immune to this unfortunate condition from which all women suffer."
"But he looks at you with intense burning, with...love."
A quiet moment passes between the two of you before you offer your honesty.
"He would learn to look at you that way, more than he would see the Crown. Especially with your mind and artistic skill. He would be a fool not to fall for you." Her eyes water at your response, "Come, let me teach you how to best Bakugou at his favorite card game, Amelia."
When you return home later that afternoon Bakugou is fidgeting outside of the manor causing your brow to furrow. Then it dawns on you that one of your brother's has a big mouth and told his Grace where you would be.
"My Lord."
"Starlight." He offers you a strong arm and you take it as he guides you up the stairs and into the parlor just off the foyer.
"Are you here to gossip?" You trust Bakugou enough to go without a chaperone, besides the doors to the parlor are wide open. You sink into your writing chair as he takes his normal seat by your side. The plush cushions do not ease his twitching fingers before you give him a playful shove.
"Out with it then!" You giggle, the sound pulls a devilish smirk from the blonde seemingly easing whatever troubled his mind. He leans back into the cushions.
"So, how much did her Highness speak of me? Endless compliments no doubt." His teeth flash white as you roll your eyes.
"And here I thought you had a pressing matter." You move to turn away from him to focus on writing but he grabs onto your knee. Giving it a gentle squeeze as his face gives him away. The tips of his ears burn before he clears his throat.
"I have to show you something and I need your honest opinion." Silence is his answer as you patiently wait for him to produce the mystery item. Slowly he reaches into his pocket, a black velvet box is in his hands. A smile blooms on your lips as you anticipate the ring he must have picked for the princess. He opens the box and your heart free falls into your stomach.
It is a pear shaped black diamond flanked by silvery diamonds that wink in the afternoon sun. At the top of the circle of diamonds was a deep red garnet that looked like a drop of blood. The ring felt powerful if it could make one feel such a thing. You fist your skirts as you collect yourself. He watches your face contort as you look over the ring, his jaw ticking with worry as you assess what is essentially both his ego and pride.
But the ring is breathtaking, perfect really.
"Katsuki, it is a gorgeous ring…" Your voice trails as you admire it, "But I believe the princess to have less...moody tastes. She does not normally wear dark colors."
A small silence stretches between the two of you, almost as if he expects something else, quickly he snaps the box shut.
"This is why I ask you things, my stunning Starlight." He pulls out a red velvet box popping it open. This ring is beautiful as well but does not have your heart as much as the first.
It is a stunning and giant marquise cut white diamond. Blinding in the light with a halo of pale pink diamonds. It is vibrant, radiant like the princess. Katsuki always did pick out the perfect jewelry to match a woman's tastes. Bakugou watches your face carefully, the sad smile that pulls your lips upward causes a deep ache in his chest. His jaw ticks again but you answer before he can even think to lash out.
"Your Grace, this will surely win her heart." He looks you in your eyes, a flash of an emotion you cannot quite catch before his arrogance returns.
"Indeed it shall. We can discuss the best date to ask another time." He closes the box and tucks them both away, he grabs your left hand, fingers ghosting over the bracelet he gave you, "You seem tired, you should get some rest."
"I believe that to be a grand idea." You say softly as he kisses each knuckle. He squeezes your fingers.
"My life would be dark without you my Starlight." You fight to keep the bitterness out of your voice as you reply.
"Soon you will have a shining diamond to light up your life."
"Only thanks to you." With that he takes his leave.
With burning eyes you add to your manuscript, foolishly writing a love story as your other novels have been completed. The candle dwindles as the hours pass before your hunched shoulders ache from the poor posture and lack of movement. You stretch, yawning as you do before you decide to head to bed.
Expecting an empty foyer you are surprised to see your father looming in the hall, your mother standing solemn by his side. Her fingers clutch at her pearls as your eyes catch sight of bags at their feet. It is not unusual for them to leave in the middle of the night in order to keep the severity of your mother's health from the limelight.
"Is there troubling news?" Anxiety twitches in your fingers as you clasp them together. Although your father's next words make your fingers want to wrap around his thick neck.
"We have been invited for an extended stay at Duke Enji's manner in the countryside in hopes the two of you will court one another."
"Father that is scandalous in itself."
"Not if an engagement comes of it. Which one will, whether you fall for him or not, young lady. The matter has been decided among the men." His words sting like a slap in the face. Where most would cry you lash out.
"Oh, I get it. Per usual the men can think with nothing more than what hangs between their legs, fearful that theirs is not long enough. So the men do all that they can to control everything but their own fragility." You step towards your father and he takes a step back, "Or is it more gruesome than that? One blackmailing the other? I just cannot imagine the ambitious Duke wanting a Baron's daughter for his son. Unless his family is so far in decline he must place the weight on his new heir and bride."
His eyes widen unnaturally before he is frothing at the mouth.
"YOU WILL NOT SPEAK OUT OF TURN. YOU WILL LEARN YOUR DAMN PLACE. " He slaps you, causing a hush to fall over your family. Your eyes are wide with animalistic rage as you lunge only for Hendrix and Hideki to hold you back. Both strong men begin dragging you away.
"Forgive her, Father." Hendrix starts before Hideki finishes, "You know how the heat gives women a touch of hysteria."
"We will help her pack her bags."
All the while your mother looks at her husband in horror. The sight falls beneath the stairs before you are shoved onto your bed.
"Sister!" Hendrix roars while the youngest brother looks flustered, worried, "What were you thinking? You know how closed minded father is."
Hideki cuts the eldest a look before he adds.
"We are just worried. Normally you keep your wrath at bay."
"As much as it may come as a surprise. I am only human." You rise from the bed asking Rose to prepare you a trunk. To pack anything, that you did not care as you sat at your desk furiously writing. Your bothers watch you with curious eyes as the tension seems to subside before they take their leave.
Minutes tick by before you're standing in the foyer. Father and mother were already sitting in the carriage that waited outside under the cover of misty rain. Hendrix and Hideki stand awkwardly by the round table in the middle of the foyer. Pretending to fuss over lavish flowers Lord Bakugou had sent that morning. A beautiful arrangement of roses and hydrangeas, two of your favorites, the Lord knew of them through observation alone. You wait patiently until one brother makes eye contact with you. Hideki breaks first, guilt shining in his eyes as it threatens to spill over. It is obvious he does not want you to leave the house, his normally crooked smile falters. You cup his cheek, smiling up at your sentimental younger brother, he acts as if you will never come back.
Maybe there is some truth in that.
"Cry not, for I have an iron will while father's is but made of glass." You swipe the tear, before pressing two letters into his chest, "Besides I have an important task for you."
"Is it your scheming?" Hendrix chides and you laugh in answer before continuing.
"These are for Lord Bakugou and Lord Kirishima, it is imperative you deliver these letters." The paper contained important instructions for not only a successful proposal but a marriage as well.
You'd be damned if all three of you would turn out miserable.
"I'll put them in the post."
"No hand deliver them." Your eyes turn icy causing both brothers to go rigid, "And should I find out the seal has been broken before their arrival I shall take the family jewels from between your legs."
"Is that any way for a lady to talk, my dearest sister?" A jest in an attempt to lighten your souring mood.
"Yes, it is."
"They will be in their hands by this evening. We are wagering on a fight tonight. Enjoy your stay." Hideki leans in close with a tease but his voice almost cracks, "Make sure the rock is huge."
"Indeed." Hendrix agrees with an almost sad look in his eye, leaving you to wonder what it is that they know and you do not.
Well, you do know why they have such long faces, you just do not care to admit. You wave to them and their eyes catch on the silvery reflection of diamonds on your wrist.
The manner is stifling to say the least. The large, grand thing is as your trunk is set in your room that overlooks a small garden and the long sweeping hill that leads home. You pace your room before a knock comes at your door.
Hoping to ignore it, having not the desire to speak to a soul, your feet quiet. You listen for them to retreat but instead a louder knock sounds out. Before his grating voice floats from beneath the door and through the keyhole.
"I know you are in there, my lady."
Ugh, that stupid doctor stood on the other side of the door. Still you ignore him.
"It is rude to ignore your host." It ignites something in your stomach before you rip the door open. Eyes ablaze as Todoroki stands perfectly still in his onyx black suit sans jacket. White sleeves rolled up showcasing his strong forearms.
"Surely, a good host would not force his guests to his estate?"
"A good host would not mention how unwanted their guest is." His smile is sickeningly polite, eyes as cold as yours. It is hard to keep your composure as you breathe in deeply through your nose, eyes widening before you slam the door in his face.
Only once you hear his footfalls retreat and the moon shines long on your floor boards do you finally make your way towards the door. A woman on a mission as you yank the door open, uncaring that you were not in much but a thick white nightgown that could be mistaken for a dress. You rush for the stairs and through the door just off their back parlor, having memorized it from the long winded tour both your father and his Grace Enji insisted the small party take of the grounds.
A cool summer breeze whips your hair this way and that as it dries the sweat that sits at your nape. Normally people would describe this feeling as miserable, that even the breeze had a bit of heat to it, but you.
You lived for it. Twirling in the moonlight you allow yourself a moment for vulnerability you often cannot afford before you go deeper on the grounds, closer to the woods that lie just beyond the manor.
Once you are at the edge you give the grand home a glare with your back towards the woods. The creatures of the night sing their symphonies well into the late hour. A twig snaps behind you cause you to turn about face, your eyes meet with lavender framed beneath light lashes.
Ice runs through your blood as you faintly recall him speaking of these trees by his own countryside manor. He often went to these grounds to hunt.
So why was he standing on the Todoroki grounds?
"So it is true?" Monoma chokes out an ugly sound. It is between defeat and a snarl. He takes a step closer, "Whisked away in the night. Did Todoroki steal your maiden head from me?"
Your eyes widen at his scandalous accusation and it is then you see how truly disheveled he is. Hair plastered to his forehead, his canary suit stained green from foliage. The fabric even darkening beneath his armpits and at his collar, it sends a sort of frantic look to his eye. He steps forward and for once in your life you yield, stepping back.
"That is a damning accusation." You fight to keep the cracking rage from your voice, the small fear that blooms in your belly like poison nightshade. Swallowing thickly he steps forward.
"He, he can't take what's mine. I- I was going to propose today. But that damn Bakugou is always lingering around like toxic gas. Poisoning your mind with his….ambitions." It is then you see red.
How dare anyone thing you were so fucking fragile and innocent some young blonde could corrupt you. Your palm strikes his cheek with enough force that he is facing away from you. You strike again and then as you rear up your fist he pulls you to him. Pressing his whisky soaked lips to yours as he swallows you whole. Mouth extended over your lips, sloppily engulfing you as he makes sounds that make you want to retch. His tongue slides past your lips and you bite.
Not enough that he loses it, although you wish you could afford to do such a thing. But you still lived in a society where a man's word was far more valuable than that of a "whore." Shaking you pull back, so much rage that you do not see the flash of light until it is too late.
"Fucking bitch!" He slashes at your nightgown, cutting the fabric away as you think you've doged, he goes to slash again, "God damn whore!"
His voice echoes through the trees and that scares you more than the knife in his hand, his sloppy demnor creates an opening as you kick him so hard between his legs he falls to the ground, puking up his belly full of liquor onto the moss floor.
Suddenly the summer night is too hot, the frogs and crickets too loud as an owl calls deep within the wood. Thunder roars overhead before the clouds become too heavy. Panic slicks your skin before the pounding rain as you turn to run, hopping you kicked hard enough to rupture something in this cowardly man.
If you lived in any other world, you would have tried your best to seize that knife and plunge it into his chest.
But you didn't, so you ran. Vision blurring as the pain finally catches up to you. Hand instinctively flying to your stomach only to come up wet.
"It's the rain, it's just the rain." You gasp out rushing into the house and shutting the glass paned door as quickly and quietly as you can. Fumbling for a lock before you give up all together, arms outstretched in the dim room looking for a candle or a mirror. Shaking fingers find a match that you light using the wallpaper, uncaring of the risks as you frantically look for a stick of wax. Lighting the wick once you've found one and taking it to the mirror above a small runner table. You set the wax down, close to the glass, thunder shakes the windows and the house as you pull the fabric from your torso. It reveals an angry red slash that weeps crimson, a choked gasp leaves your lips as lightning flashes illuminating the whole room. Still you do not see the reflection of the man in the mirror.
"What happened?" It sounds animalistic as it comes from the corner. Your whirl to face him, pulling the cloth back down to cover your decency. A lie falls from your lips as easy as breath.
"Nothing." Your rasp, feigning embarrassment, "My-my courses have come early. Your Grace this is not something you should witness."
"Do you take me for a fool?" He steps closer, eyes burning in the candle light, "I may not be an expert of female anatomy but I know the basics."
You swallow thickly, trying to jest.
"Then my Lord you are far more experienced than myself. I am bashful to be in the presence of a skilled womanizer. This truly is nothing." He closes the distance, wrapping his deadly hand around your small wrist. Pulling it away from your body.
"That laceration does not look like 'nothing'." He mocks, "I will not ask again."
Silence engulfs you as the storm rages on, it competes with the roaring in your head. Your knees slowly buckle as Shoto keeps you up right. His winter's night by the hearth scent floods your senses.
"I feel a bit faint." Your voice sounds so small, so far away that it stirs something in Todoroki. In the year that he has watched you, he has not once seen your falter or become meek. He makes way to scoop you into your arms and is a mixed of relieved and agitated as you swat him away.
"I-I can walk." You straighten your back, smoothing the reddening fabric over your bodess and for once you're thankful the blasted nightgown is so thick. He gently guides you to your room.
Once there he prepares a basin as you try to sit on the plush bed.
"Aht!" He whispers harshly, "Change."
You relax into the foot of the bed anyway, unable to hold yourself up right any longer. He sucks his teeth, bringing the supplies to the bedside table before searching through your trunk.
"A Lady's things should not just be rummaged through."
"Hmm is that so?" He finds another night gown before he hovers over you, face pinched as he asks, "Can you undress yourself, truthfully?"
Moments pass before you admit that you are not sure that you can with a shake of your head. Slowly he eases you out of the damp fabric, dabbing at your wet skin with a towel. He avoids looking at your breasts and as much as he would love to stare a weeping wound commands his attention. He places the gown just enough to hide your breasts before he lies you down on your back.
"From beginning to end, tell me what happened." When you do not answer he forces your chin to face him, "Tell me, now."
And your name slips off his lips like poisoned honey, a truth serum you swallow whole. You retell the quick exchange, including the damning kiss as you watch rage blister across Shoto's handsome features as he silently begins to work.
"We must prosecute him."
"We must not!" You exclaim as he dabs antiseptic at your wound. He gives your an exasperated
"What would have happened if he had nicked an internal organ?"
"I suppose I would be free of this wretched world." A nonchalant shrug as best as you can manage.a glare cuts your way as his roar turns soft.
"Why would you say such a thing? Do you think no one would mourn the loss of you? Do you think he would not weep at your service?" Shoto touches the bracelet of dancing stars and you pull your wrist back. Tears burning your eyes, you do not allow them to fall.
"He is not up for discussion!" It's a loud whisper before you grip Shoto's jaw with enough force it grinds, "I am more than capable of taking care of myself, Lord. You can take your leave as I do not need a soul."
He melts as he watches the pain flutter in your eyes, a long sigh escapes him as he melts into your touch. His fingers feathering over your forearm.
"Pride is a deadly sin. Allow me to help. I will be quick." Slowly you drop your arm away from him. He digs around in his bag before you change your mind. He disinfects the sutures before he sends the needle through tender flesh, your tears dry as you allow your mind to retreat. Shoto takes quick notice.
"You do that a lot…" He comments softly, pulling the suture through your skin, you glance his way, "You seem to disassociate."
"Well, feelings hurt so it is better to not feel at all." You grind your teeth as he pulls the widest part of your wound together.
"Is that why you push him away so often?" He holds your gaze before returning to his work.
"Did I not tell you that he is not up for discussion. No matter, I do not have feelings for Lord Bakugou." He scoffs at your lie.
"Ah so then it was not you who suggested the Princess in the form of flattery? Lord Bakugou is a smart man but you played into his blind spot, stroking his ego and enticing his ambition." Your gritted teeth say it all.
"And how pray tell would you even guess at such grandor things when you are not in attendance at even half of these events?"
"I am privy to this knowledge because I too keep everyone and everything at arm's length. It is much easier to see the moves when one is far enough away from the board." He dabs at your abdomen, "And you my Lady are by far the best player."
"Flattery does not go far with me." You sigh softly, fingers idly playing with the wrinkles in the sheets, "Father wants me to set a final round."
"Mine wishes for me to begin and end in the same turn." He slowly places your nightgown down, "Which is why we should make an effort to at least get to know one another. With your wound I suggest staying an extra week or two to ensure it closes properly. I can convince our Wardens that the extension is for an attempt to win your hand."
He leans back in his chair, sweat on his brow from fusing with your wound, from worry as it furrows. Your chest tightens and suddenly the urge to be in control sinks its teeth into your skin. Quickly you unclasp the birthday present Lord Katsuki had given you, setting it on the nightstand beside Shoto with dramatic flare. His eyes widen as he reads between the lines, the silent vow of "I will make an effort...for now". The promise seems to pierce his heart.
"Fine. I enjoy picnics, I suggest we do that on the grounds so that we may be chaperoned from afar and yet have privacy. My expectation is unbashful honesty from both parties." You turn over to give him your back as you pull the fine blankets to your shoulders, "Furthermore you must come up with some sort of endearment for me. Anyone who has ever tried to seriously court me has. I have come quite fond of them as titles bore me. Something lovely so give it thought."
Shoto is stunned into silence for a moment before he lets out a dark laugh.
"I see, this is still your game"
"Precisely." You say, he stands, lingering in the doorway before shutting the heavy oak.
It was difficult to sleep to say the least. Still you were grateful to have risen before Rose. Dressing yourself before she could see your wound. More grateful still when Rose set down some tea claiming Lord Shoto sent it.
You downed the scalding liquid in three swallows, surprising Rose, before she passes you a folded note.
Meet me in the back garden for lunch.
-Shoto
A muscle ticks in your jaw as pain blooms across your stomach as you stare at his lovely script.
Shoto hates to admit that the first thing he looks for is that bracelet on your wrist, when he does not see it he lets out his held breath. Drinking in your deep, sapphire dress. It sparkles as if covered in stardust, his heart clenches. He looks towards your stomach, worry etched on his features.
"How are your stitches? No corset right?" He asks, gently guiding you to the plush pillows on the ground. Maybe he should have asked the butler to bring out chairs instead.
"I feel naked without it." You admit, he sees a bit of nervousness you have normally schooled away.
"You look lovely." His eyes are gentle, lips formed in a soft, genuine smile. Your heart tried to skip a beat. It's the heat you tell yourself.
"Flattery will not get you far remember?"
"I'm only being honest, my sweet petunia." You give him a puzzled look, was this going to be his nickname for you? You were not a delicate thing.
"A flower?" You give him a look but his smile does not falter.
"Ah would you rather I say my dew kissed rose? My begonia?"
You both laugh at his last suggestion.
"My sunflower." Your heart stutters, you glance away for just a moment and he takes notice.
"Ah so you approve," He collects a strand of your hair between his fingertips, "Sunflower?"
Heat rushes your cheeks as you fight the smile on your lips. You lose as he kisses your hair. Maybe you could be a delicate thing.
"Did you know sunflowers can remediate soil? It is why they are planted after tobacco is harvested in hopes to use the fields once more." He is quiet as he waits for your admission.
"It is my favorite flower, it is in season now. Alas not one suitor has sent them. Roses and hydrangeas are my favorites too but nothing quite says summer like a sunflower." You sigh, looking over the manicured bushes and flowers in the garden.
"Is that your favorite season?" He is perceptive, you take a moment to breathe in the sweltering breeze with closed eyes. Humming your answer.
"Indeed." You kick off your shoes and place your feet into the grass, leaning back to allow your face in the sun. Not many women would be so open to sitting on only a blanket and with no umbrella or covering. And yet here you were soaking up the sun like a lazy cat. Heat rushes Shoto's cheeks as he realizes just how perfect his name for you is.
"Have you ever had intercourse with a woman?" You ask, eyes still closed as Shoto flushes further. His cheeks are as red as part of his hair.
"Sunflower." He gasps but you giggle.
"Unbashful honesty, remember?" He lets small silence stretch between the two of you before he answers.
"I have. My brother convinced me it was a good idea." His eyes look sad, it makes your gut clench as you look away for a moment. Question burning on your tongue.
"What if I were to say my maiden head was taken?"
"Who am I to judge after I have slept with another. Sadly I know some are stolen." He answers without hesitation.
"This is true. Mine is still intact, I am grateful Monoma had only stolen a kiss." You sigh.
"You'd never kissed anyone?" His tone is curious although his eyes are dark with anger for you.
"I tried to be a proper lady. More so because I do not like to touch people or feel their skin. Touching them makes them real, you know? And when someone is real they can have power over your heart." Shoto mulls over your words and realizes how much he relates. He places his hands near your fingers but does not touch them. You notice the gesture and scoff without the pretension you skillfully lace his fingers with his. Delighted to see the burning blush on his cheeks.
Maybe life with Shoto would not be half bad, if only he gave you more moments like this.
Moments like this last over the two weeks that drag into three. Days are spent beneath the summer sun with exchanged and often heated, intellectual debates. Both of you feeling mentally stimulated for the first time as each of you allowed a few walls to come down, pulling each other closer than arm's length. While a few hours of the night are spent beneath the moon. His gem stone eyes raking over your abdomen in worry but nothing more than his checking on your wound as he was ever the gentlemen.
On Monday of the second week Shoto has come fond of his summer sunflower, so much so he brings a large black box to the next picnic, tucked away in his pocket is a matching, much smaller box. He presents to you the medium sized box as you giggle in delight.
"My Lord, my shining Shoto. What could this be?" Your cheeks hurt from the width of your smile as he opens the box for you to see. Your face flutters into shock before joy returns as you hold out your wrist. Shoto takes the delicate golden bracelet that has several round onyx surrounded by citrine in the shape of petals. Sunflowers dance on your wrist as you twist it this way and that, unable to school your features into your normal distaste for guadry gifts from suitors. But this gift was far from gaudy, only one man before Shoto had earned this reaction. You bring your parasol to hide your face and his from the prying eyes of the manor as you gently press your lips to Shoto's cheeks.
"I love it." You admit. It gives him enough courage to commit to ask you on Friday, the bigger question.
Having you walk for "therapy" through the grounds, pointing over your shoulder to point out phantom ducks on the lake as he nervously sinks to one knee.
"Shoto, love I do not see-" You turn to face him and see his loving eyes, wavering smile and shaking fingers holding open the box that reveals a giant oval ruby surrounded by diamonds. He clears his throat.
"My sunflower," You fling your arms around him, making him fall off balance as you land on top of him. Peppering his face with uncharacteristic kisses as excitement, for once, rushes through your veins like a second blood. He laughs lifting you by your ribs, careful of your slowly closing wound as he spins you before setting you on your feet. He fumbles for the momentarily forgotten ring before he slips it onto your ring finger. He presses a kiss to your cheek, smiling warmly. It reaches his eyes in such a way your gut clenches.
And for a moment you forgot you were ever anyone's starlight.
For one returning to the manor seems almost dreadful and not because of waiting suitors but because you would be without your own. He insisted the two of you be seperate as your mother and his, prepared to arrange the wedding, as you demanded the ceremony to be small. Despite your desire for to keep the engagement quiet for just a week or so, your mother and father took it upon themselves to spread word back home before you could even arrive.
You exit the carriage as the house looks quiet, earning a soft smile. Your ring catches your eye and you remind yourself that this truly was the best possible outcome.
The foyer is covered in flowers, from congratulations to a giant trove of sunflowers on the center table.
You smile at the flowers Shoto must have sent this morning, they sit in a glass globe of a vase, their usually tall stems cut short. Their flower heads are large and vibrant even in the ambient candle light. You finger a petal as you reminisce over the past few weeks, your stomach hardly protesting as you stand on tip toe to look at them all. Relishing the moment of silence before you realize you are most likely home alone. Your brothers lost in some fighting match while your parents took their leave from the Todoroki manor to busy themselves with venues. You figured a change of clothes would do you nicely before you settled down over your much neglected work.
A black nightgown and almost sheer robe clung to your frame as you stepped down the grand staircase, smiling once more at the flowers before slipping into your parlor. Lighting only one other candle by the door before taking yours to your desk. With deft hands you pull out one of your manuscripts and tap along the top with a manicured nail. A sigh leaves your lips, you finger with your bracelet, with the ring on your finger before a fresh page is found on your desk. You write furiously.
About something as trivial as love.
Still the quil seems to move on its own as if enchanted as words dot the parchment in ink. Suddenly your work is disturbed by someone entering your parlor. You assume it is a brother who has come home, glancing up you see locks of ash blonde causing you to grip at your robe to close it tighter. The moment you realize it is just Bakugou your grip on the fabric loosens.
"I wasn't expecting you at this hour." Fear of needing a chaperone barely crosses your mind since it was Lord Bakugou who was your company. You relax into your seat as he crosses the room to sit in his normal seat, on the corner of the couch, closest to you. His posture is poor as he leans his forearms on thick thighs, garnet eyes cast downward, he grips at his own hands as his knuckles turn white. You wonder if he did not heed your letter.
"How did the proposal go with Princess Amelia?" Your voice sounds out over the silence of the room, still he remains quiet. It is unnerving how solemn and silent the normally wolfish man is. Something pulls at the strings of your heart. His eyes seem misty. He keeps them to the ground or so you think, as they rake over the ring on your finger, on the bracelet on your wrist. The onyx and citrine dance in the low light of your burning candle. Bakugou feels a sheen of sweat coat his hands, bile rising in his throat that he has to swallow down.
You think the worst, you think the Princess rejected him but that didn't make sense either. She was so obviously in love with the ambitious man, you heard while away that she even turned down a dance with a forgein prince.
"What's wrong, Katsuki?" The way your voice forms around his name, the way your eyes look with unbiased worry causes Katsuki's limbs to act on their own. In one swift motion he cups your face in his broad hands, bringing his lips to yours so softly. Once the plush of your lips touch his he cannot stop as his hunger for you comes to the forefront. He kisses you with a fervor unmatched as his lips move yours, his hand moves to the back of your neck. Tilting your head so he may deepen the kiss, tongue sliding over yours as the world falls from beneath your feet.
But as quickly as it fell it returns, pushing him away while turning to face away from him. You keep your head held high as he pants on the couch beside you. He grabs your thigh, desperate for touch, for anything but rejection.
"Starlight." His voice is deep, rough from what might be disuse as it cracks on the second syllable. A question runs rampid in your mind. How long had he felt like this?
"Please, my starlight." He squeezes your smooth thigh and you look towards him. Watch his force contort with pain, as if you held his beating heart in his hands and crushed it.
Really it is what he had done to you, as you look down at him with hot tears.
He is the first and only soul to see you cry in decades. It seemingly tears him about but he brought this among himself.
The kiss is answer enough as to why he is here.
It should not be this tempting to throw it all away.
"Get. Out." You seethe, fat droplets catching on your sheer robe, falling down your cheeks as if you were an actress going through a tragic scene. He does not move, does not breathe as he hopes your temper will cool.
Instead it heats.
"Get out, Get OUT. GET OUT GET OUT!!" More composure lost with each increase of volume before you completely lose it, "FUCKING GET OUT!"
He hardly moves and the ruckus calls alarm for your brothers who were home, who let Bakugou in at such a late hour. They come from the office across the hall in hurried steps, expecting to see an assailant, hoping that Bakugou could fight them off.
They silently determine what they see is far worse. Bakugou gripping at your thighs with this pleading look while your face is now firmly buried in your hands. A sob racks through your body setting your brothers ablaze.
Hendrix speaks first.
"What did you do?!" His eyes are flaming as he sets them on Bakugou, who ignores the two men. Hideki begins to close the distance and his eldest brother follows suit.
"What have you done to make my lovely sister cry?" Hideki's voice is full of hurt, disappointment and when they receive no answer they decide it is time to remove your true assailant.
Both grab at Bakugou, pulling him away from the couch as you wet your palms with years worth of tears.
Everything in your life, no matter how hard you tried to conduct it, was truly wrong wasn't it?
The fresh swirling ink on the pages answered you enough, the love story you did not know you needed with a protagonist with soft ash blonde hair.
"Please. Do not make me BEG!" He yells as your brothers' sad attempt at forcing him from the room topples furniture and the like.
Still you weep your self pity away.
His next words are deafening as your heart finally cleaves apart, the pieces falling to the floor before shattering like glass at your feet. He brandishes the black velvet box with the black diamond ring tucked inside as you finally look up to him.
"IT HAS ALWAYS BEEN YOU, STARLIGHT!"
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