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tchallasbabymama · 3 years

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The Temple- Chapter 1/?

N’Jadaka x OC

A/N: I thought this was going to be a two parter, but now it’s looking like maaaaybe 3? I’m just now getting back into my writing and forgot how longwinded I can be lol. Enjoy!

CW: short mention of suicidal ideation

Previous chapter: Prologue

3256 Words

N’Jadaka’s eyes blinked open and he was met with yet another day in Wakanda. This one was a little different than all his other mornings there because it was the first time he got to wake up in his own bed in his own quarters (outside of that one day he was king.) N’Jadaka had spent the last three months in a psychiatric treatment facility working on his anger and mental health issues. When he woke up after the civil war he caused he was livid. He had wanted to die on that mountain and unfortunately the feeling didn’t leave him until about a month into his treatment. He felt he had nothing to live for since his entire life’s work had gone up in flames before his eyes. He accomplished his one goal in life only to have it snatched back from him a day later. Everything important to him in his life had been taken from him and he felt he had nothing else to live for, so his cousin, King T’Challa, arranged for N’Jadaka to spend some time at Ithemba Center for Mental Wellness.

He would never admit it out loud, but N’Jadaka was scared to go to Ithemba. He thought his stint as king would have turned Wakandans against him, but it did the opposite. The royal family had decided that transparency was the best policy and did a press conference explaining the entire situation to the people. T’Challa explained what had happened between his father and uncle, what the prince’s life had been like up to that point, and the fact that while he did usurp the throne he did it the right way according to Wakandan law so he wouldn't be charged with treason. The people of Wakanda were shocked, but welcomed their new prince with open arms. He wasn’t aware of the new developments because he was still resting in a healing pod in Shuri’s lab at the time, but when he went to Ithemba he was surprised to find out that everybody already knew him and was more than willing to help him. N’Jadaka hadn’t received that much care and attention since he was a child and he didn't really know how to handle it. It took him weeks to learn how to open himself to others, and it wasn’t until his last month of treatment that he even began opening himself up to the other patients in group therapy.

N’Jadaka’s main therapist was a woman named Ife. She reminded him so much of his mother that he had almost no choice but to open himself to her, crying in her lap during their first couple sessions. Ife had been incredibly patient with the emotional yet emotionally repressed prince, allowing him to work through his overwhelming feelings of anger, sadness, and hurt.

His time with Ife and the other patients at the center had been incredibly healing and he felt like a new man. He still felt like he had a ways to go, and he could tell he needed something, but couldn’t figure out what. His healing didn’t feel anywhere close to being done.

A knock at the door interrupted his morning laziness.

“Ngena.”

In walked the king of Wakanda flanked by two of his Dora Milaje, who he politely dismissed to stand outside the door. He walked across the room and sat in the plush velvet wingback chair by the full bookshelves.

“Sup man?” N’Jadaka barely opened his eyes to speak to his cousin. The bed was too comfortable.

“My apologies cousin, did I wake you?”

“Nah I’m up, this bed just won’t let me go.”

T’Challa chuckled at his cousin’s laziness. He completely understood, the beds were the most comfortable beds he’d experienced in all of his travels and time abroad in school.

“I just wanted to formally invite you to attend breakfast at 9. It’s casual, just family and whatever few friends are staying in the palace with us at the time. M’Baku will be joining us today.”

“The gorilla nigga?”

T’Challa tried and failed to stifle his laughter, which quickly spread to his slightly younger cousin.

“Yes the gorilla nigga.”

“Ooooh I’m telling M’Baku you said that. Better yet, I’m telling Auntie.”

“I’d really rather you not.”

N’Jadaka chuckled and wondered if this is how it always would’ve been if they had grown up together. The thought was more bitter than sweet, so he pushed it aside for the time being.

“Maybe just this once.”

T’Challa grinned at his cousin and he also wondered how life would’ve been had they known each other their whole lives.

“Thank you. Oh and get up, it’s already 8:30” T’Challa stood and walked towards the door.

“These damn beds…” N’Jadaka shook his head and reluctantly flung the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of his bed, completely forgetting he slept naked. He rushed to cover himself in the king’s presence.

“Shit, my bad, man.”

“For…?”

“Nigga I got my dick swinging!”

“You’re sorry for being naked? Wh- oh that’s right. We aren’t puritanical like you are used to in America. Nudity isn't scandalous here, it’s just a body. But I will leave and let you get ready. See you, umzala.”

N’Jadaka stood there shocked. He knew of Wakandan culture, but experiencing it was going to be an adjustment. Just how different were they? They were never affected by colonization so the oppressive white supremacist ideology wouldn’t exist there. He had a lot of unlearning to do and a lot of questions to ask his family.

He eventually shook himself out of his thoughts and made his way to the en suite bathroom. He turned on the shower using the touchpad and the water fell from the ceiling like rain. He scrubbed down in the vanilla chai body wash he had requested and afterwards he covered his skin in shea butter. He walked into his enormous closet and stood there overwhelmed at the choices. His inner child wanted to throw a fit for everything he’d missed out on, but N’Jadaka took a deep breath to center himself before walking over to the section of clothes that he recognized. He was so nervous about breakfast he almost dressed to impress, but then he remembered T’Challa’s words and casual outfit. He grabbed his Lost Tribe hoodie and threw on his favorite black jeans and his Timbs. He swooped all his locs to one side of his head and threw on his gold glasses. N’Jadaka took a deep breath and walked towards the door.

“Chill out...it’ll be fine.”

The guards stationed outside his door directed him to the dining room where he was met with the smiling faces of his family members. Ramonda was the first to notice he’d entered the room..

“Mholo, umtshana!”

She met him for a hug and kissed his cheek. He smiled so hard his dimples looked deeper than ever and he hugged her back.

“Mornin, Auntie. T, Lil Bit, Charlie’s Angel, Big Man.” N’Jadaka greeted his cousins, Nakia, and M’Baku.

Yet again, T’Challa failed to stifle a laugh, which he tried to play off with a cough. Nakia lightly backhanded his chest and sucked her teeth at him.

“Little bit? Don't start with me, bubble wrap!”

“Who is Charlie and why am I their angel?”

“That is not my name.”

Shuri, Nakia, and M’Baku spoke over each other.

Thankfully the queen mother was there to settle the children down right as the food was being brought out. N’Jadaka looked at the table and was surprised to see that Ramonda was seated next to T’Challa and that the only empty seat was at the end of the table.

The king noticed N’Jadaka’s nervousness as he watched him sit down gingerly and take in his surroundings.

“So N’Jadaka, how was your first night in the palace? Our beds are the most comfortable in the world.”

“Auntie, I almost didn’t come to breakfast. That bed had a hold on me.”

“You must come visit my people sometimes. If you think you sleep good here, wait until you have the crisp mountain air-”

“Nah lemme stop you right there. Crisp is code for cold, and I don't do that shit. Sorry Auntie.”

“I don't do that shit either. When I was staying there I shivered the whole time, even with the beautiful furs and blankets! I’m just not built for the cold.”

N’Jadaka grimaced at the mention of his time as a burgeoning world dictator. He was thankful nobody noticed.

He was also thankful for the large platters of food the kitchen staff came and sat in front of them. They passed the food around the table and soon enough there was silence as everyone dug into what N’Jadaka would later describe as the best meal he ever had.

After breakfast, the three men retired to T’Challa’s office while the princess hurried off to her lab, Nakia disappeared, and Ramonda tended to her garden.

“So, N’Jadaka...I wanted to talk to you about a few things-”

“Then why is Mighty Joe Young here?”

M’Baku rolled his eyes.

“Again, that is not my name. Who even is this person?”

“It’s a big ass gorilla.”

“Oh- well in that case…”

T’Challa cleared his throat.

“As I was saying. Before anything, we need to address your crowning ceremony. Obviously you are part of the royal family, but by Wakandan law, all royalty must be officially crowned to be able to hold a title. If you would like to be Prince N’Jadaka son of Prince N’Jobu we must have the ceremony.”

N’Jadaka’s voice caught in his throat and his eyes got misty.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

M’Baku put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good to have you, brother.”

“Good to be here.”

T’Challa fought tears of his own.

“Ok so uh, that’s that. We can hash those details out later. Now, the second thing I wanted to bring up with you is this: M’Baku and Nakia have offered to show you around the merchant tribe here in the city, the river tribe, and Jabariland. Shuri will get you acquainted with the mining tribe, and I will take you out to the border tribe on Wednesday.”

“Aight, sounds like a plan, but I don’t want the surface-level touristy shit.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“Noted. Now, lastly,” T’Challa pulled up a projection of a futuristic yet somehow still modern building next to a basketball court.

N’Jadaka’s stomach dropped.

“What is this?”

“I want to open our borders to the ‘Lost Tribe’ as you call it. Maybe to the rest of the world eventually, but at the time they are less of a concern. In addition to that, I-”

The king was cut off by Nakia entering the room.

“Perfect time, love.”

“Sorry for being late, this baby runs my life now.”

“I’m getting a baby cousin?!”

Nakia looked at him dryly.

“Yes, N’Jadaka, you are getting a baby cousin.”

He peeped her attitude and settled down. If there was one thing he knew in this world, it was never piss of a pregnant woman.

“So the Outreach Centers, yes. I had actually had the idea for a while, but it took the country almost burning down for this idiot to see I was right. T’Challa had the idea to use your old apartment complex as the first Wakandan Outreach Center. Hopefully if it goes well, we could expand to-”

N’Jadaka zoned out staring at the projection. His vision may not have come true in the way he thought it would, but this would certainly be a step towards the betterment of the lives of Black people everywhere. N’Jadaka couldn't help but grin.

“I think we lost him…”

“Cousin!”

He snapped out of his daze.

“Yeah I-I like it. Thank you, this really means a lot. One thing though?”

“Yes?”

“I want it dedicated to my pops.”

T’Challa smiled and zoomed in on the name above the door. It read “Prince N’Jobu’s Wakandan Outreach Center”. Then he took them on a 3-D tour of the facility, ending with the memorial to N’Jobu in room 1401.

N’Jadaka nearly broke down in tears.

“Cool. Thanks, man. For everything. This is…” N’Jadaka took a deep breath. “Just, thanks…”

The other three Wakandans smiled back at him fondly, an occurrence it seemed he would have to get used to.

“I’m glad you like it. Now if you three will excuse me, I have work to do.”

Nakia kissed T’Challa’s forehead and left the room.

“Aight, I need something lighthearted. A nigga is tired of crying. Oh! Actually I got some questions…”

“Ask away.”

“So earlier you mentioned how free and open and shit yall are here...I’m single and haven’t had any in like 6 months so where can I go to find some pussy. Since I’m a prince do I just like, I don't know, have concubines brought to me? I don't know how this works”

M’Baku snorted.

“Clearly.”

N’Jadaka flipped him off while T’Challa answered.

“No, we do not have ‘concubines’ though we do sort of have sex workers, which we can discuss later. You know, it would do you good to read some Wakandan history books...and maybe even some of our sex education material.”

“Ay man, I already know all that.”

“Not the way we teach it. Plus our birth control is better here.”

“More effective?”

“And no side effects. Trust me, you’ll want to visit the library at the end of the hall, cousin.”

N’Jadaka considered his suggestion and made a mental note to check out the library later that day.

“Yes, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two,” M’Baku chimed in.

“My guy, I know how sex works! I’m just curious about the culture surrounding sex. T, you said y'all aren’t puritanical like America...expand on that.”

“Well the list of books I just sent to your beads would be able to cover this in greater detail than I can at the moment, but basically every preconceived notion you have about sex, gender, attraction, etc. has been tainted by colonialism as a means of control over the population.”

“Hanuman…”

“Yeah I know that, I guess I just can’t really conceptualize a world without all that sexism and homophobia and shit.”

“What is homophobia?” M’Baku asked, genuinely confused. The cousins answered at the same time.

“When people hate gay niggas.”

“The hatred of, or at least the disdain for, those who are attracted to their same gender.”

“And we ain't even getting into the people who aren't men or women, that shit blows people's minds.”

“Why?”

The cousins continued to explain the outside world to M’Baku for what felt like hours. T’Challa looked at the clock and stood.

“Well gentlemen, as...depressing as this conversation has been, we must get to the council meeting.”

“I need a drink after that. The strongest Jabari mead!”

“Yeah imagine living with that shit for 30 years then coming here. I’m not gonna know how to act.”

“You’ll learn.”

The three made their way to the council meeting and N’Jadaka had never been so bored in all of his life. He started nodding off at one point and M’Baku elbowed him in his side when he started to snore. When it was finally over they parted ways and N’Jadaka headed to the library. He had plenty of reading to do.

He started with the Wakandan history books reading about the lives of his ancestors. His fathers stories had given him a good foundation to build on, but what he found in the books blew his mind.

Wakandans can trace their history for thousands of years, all the way back to the time of the great Bashenga, the first Black Panther. Growing up as a Black American, N’Jadaka had no connection to his mother’s family history because there was no record. When the Lost Tribe was enslaved and brought to the west, they were recorded as cargo, not people. The enslavers didn’t care about their names or where they came from, and when they got to shore their families continued to be ripped apart and sold to the highest bidder. They weren’t allowed to play drums and congregate, they weren’t allowed to read, they weren’t allowed to marry. There was no written record of his people, and the most they could go on was family bibles which almost never went back before the mid 1800s.

N’Jadaka was overwhelmed with the information, so he decided to switch to something else and come back to the history books later. He picked up “Intimacy and Sex” by Ami Nbunda and flipped through the pages. He skimmed the table of contents and was surprised by what he saw.

The first chapter was on anatomy, but it actually included intersex people instead of just focusing on male and female bodies. The next chapter was about loving and respecting yourself and others, but not in the slut-shaming way of the outside world. The next few chapters were on the mental and emotional sides of intimacy, and the last few were on birth control, sexual health, attraction, healthy communication, and more resources.

The prince couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he flipped through the pages. He stopped on a full-color photo of a vulva with all the parts labeled.

“This is for kids? Damn, we really living in two different worlds. America would never.”

He turned the page and saw a to-scale model of the entire clitoris, and his eyes bugged out of his head.

“That shit’s a whole wishbone…”

He continued to read through the pages in awe. M’Baku was right, he was learning a thing or two.

N’Jadaka spent the whole day in the library reading book after book on everything he could get his hands on. If it hadn’t been for his guards alerting him to the time, he would’ve missed dinner. He grabbed the last two books and went to drop them in his quarters before heading to dinner.

“Umzala, have you been in the library this whole time?”

“Yeah man, it’s a lot to take in. I might have to take that sex ed book back to the states.”

“We plan on doing just that at the Outreach Centers. Comprehensive sex education is a necessity, and since your government prefers to keep people in the dark about how their own bodies work it will be our job to educate those who come through our doors. All but the last chapter, of course.”

T’Challa winked and N’Jadaka felt like he had missed something.

“You mean the resources? Makes sense, those books wouldn't be available outs-”

“Not the books, dear, the Temple.” Ramonda chimed in.

“The what? I ain't got that far yet.”

Shuri rounded the corner and N’Jadaka expected the conversation to stop, but no.

“Remember earlier when you asked about concubines and I said we have sex workers?”

Ramonda cut her eyes at N’Jadaka as he nodded.

“Well that term doesn’t quite encompass what they do. They are sexual healers blessed by Bast herself and they reside in the Temple of Healing on the outskirts of the city near the Land of the Dead. They are known as the Daughters of Bast.”

“Now I feel bad for calling them concubines.”

“You should.” Ramonda said as she slapped him upside the head.

“Ow Auntie, damn”

T’Challa was thankful that his mother had someone else to fuss over, and he chuckled.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to pay them a visit. They are healers, after all.”

Next Chapter

#cecewritessometimes #black panther fic #njadaka #the temple #n'jadaka x oc

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viviae · 4 years

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Dissecting the Newspapers

What are those newspaper articles?

Well, I’m here to give MY interpretation of what is going on. Simply put, I think Anastasia is planning a coup to overthrow Vesuvia.

1) We have Anastasia fixing the canals

First off, Anastasia has no reason to fix the canals, she does not live in Vesuvia and her niece and nephew aren’t exactly permanent residence either. So why? These canal’s have been a long standing problem in Vesuvia’s history, no one knows who built them or why and half of them are unfinished so it’s safe to say they’ve probably been around since the city was founded. And then to have this mysterious benefactor who is putting in some very expensive resources to solve this issue? It’s to gain public approval for her and leave a positive impression on the masses (she did not actually speak publicly at the trial).

Her fixing the canals lead to her digging underground as well which seems to have resulted in the flooded district collapsing.

And speaking of public approval...

2) Nadia had to delay the masquerade

This threat of flooding is so serious Nadia delayed the masquerade. This should be a huge red flag as in all the other routes Nadia cannot cancel the masquerade. It’s obvious Nadia has a lot riding on the masquerade politically speaking. The people of Vesuvia love a good ole fashion masquerade and it’s pretty much the only reason anyone liked Lucio and did not start a revolution.

So we have a public figure who has been absent from the public eye for years who tries to offer two different events to improve her public standing. The hanging, which does not happen, and now the masquerade which is delayed. Even in the parts of the city where Lucio was always disliked and may have had their hopes riding on Nadia it just shows to them they are failing. Not to mention that now a foreigner is now fixing one of Vesuvia’s longest standing problems which obviously looks like it was always an easy fix but the Vesuvian royal family has been to incompetent to fix it. As well as now we have the flooded district being completely destroyed which is only going to hurt Nadia’s image more with the people.

In one fell swoop Tasya just ruined Nadia’s public image. Which if you want to plan a coup, it would be incredibly beneficial to have the current ruling figure fail.

3) Tasya has already won over the court

In the last book we got to see Tasya at work. Giving Valerius an incredibly expensive vineyard and Vastomil some rare worms isn’t exactly cheap. And while yes at face value this was just to convince them to rule Julian innocent I doubt it was just to rule Julian innocent on an even vote. They are indebted to her and have a great respect for her now as well.

And although she only has 2/5 members of the court it won’t be hard to win over the others.

4) a renowned expert in poison has been found mysteriously dead

Acontius Dogwood has been found dead, why would they include this seemingly irrelevant individual’s death for a teaser image? Well I’ll give you the biggest hint and it’s in the pudding.

If you don’t remember Nightshade allow me to remind you of this lovely quote from Julian

This poison is incredibly dangerous in the wrong hands but it’s only safe to be touched because it needs to be distilled. The distilling process for a poison can be pretty complicated and would need an expert to do so successfully. And an expert was just mysteriously killed (probably by his own creation). If he’s used to crafting this poison specifically for overthrowing kings he’s probably smart enough not to live in a city where its being used.

Until what I believe is Anastasia asking for a poison to be crafted for her. I think she killed him to keep him quiet and no one to be the wiser. And where do I think this poison is? Well let’s take a look at the flower itself.

A pale blue with darker veins inside of it.... Now lets take a look at that necklace that Anastasia gifted Portia real quick.

A pale blue with darker veins inside of it...

I think this necklace is a Chekhov’s Gun, its an incredibly odd thing to be drawing attention to as much as it has been, with even Valerius making a comment on it. More specifically I think it’s a reference to the Game of Throne’s necklace that Sansa wears at the purple wedding. It’s a pale blue necklace that has one of it’s dangling gems removed during the events as the gems hold a poison to overthrow a king... and subsequently frames her for murder.

Another point is how in the paid scene with Portia at the pillow fight it’s noted that had taken the necklace off. Now you could make an argument that this is simply because Portia didn’t want any damage to fall to the necklace but I think this was a way to make sure we the readers don’t accidentally break this gem containing an incredibly dangerous poison.

5) What is going on with the crabmen?

Ok, they aren’t actually half crab hybrids.

But what people are seeing at men in carapaces running around under ground. So I believe that they aren’t crabs, but rather men in armor. We know Anastasia is in charge of repairing the canals which has lead to her having to go underground. I think the fixing the canals is also a cover to get her to sneak armed troops underground which people are seeing. And they seem to be quite territorial and aggressive as it’s scaring the citizens... almost like they don’t want to be seen.

6) The storms

Ok, this wasn’t part of my original theory because I thought the storms were the Devil getting mad at delaying the masquerade but I saw @thesanguinerose ‘s post talking about how Julian and Portia’s parents were killed in a storm that mysteriously on the Devorak children and Tasya survived.

And now that there are these violent storms brewing in Vesuvia... in the only route where Tasya is present raises some major concerns. Tasya explained to Portia that she had offered to buy their parent’s merchant ship to add to her fleet but they denied her. And then said parents happened to die out at see on a violent storm with Tasya present. It is definitely suspicious and I think these storms are connected to Tasya and are following her around. Perhaps in the same way that the plague followed Lucio around for having an uncompleted deal.

She does seem quite well traveled and despite being a baroness isn’t at her country ruling like she probably should. Probably to avoid destroying her city but there is no reason she can’t use this to an advantage. But I am making a lot of leaps with this one that I’m not even 100% about.

7) Foreshadowing in Portia’s Route

In Portia’s route there is a certain... theme to it. Portia is pretty bent on solving the mysteries of everything going on around her. Portia in general has a real penchant for snooping and keeping secrets. So we already know what one of the bigger mysteries of the overall story of The Arcana is “Why did Julian kill Lucio" but the problem is... Portia already solved it. She solved it before anyone else did back in book X (Yes Muriel’s route answers the question of if Julian did it at the start but not why) and yet we still have a massive story.

There seems to be a theme in the secondary routes that they take a different approach to the world and story than the main three. Portia has been following the story pretty much beat by beat so far but there is something incredibly special about Portia. She has no connection to the Devil at all.

If you follow (I believe it’s @apprenticeofcups ‘s meta) the idea that Lucio is only as big as a threat in the route based on that character of that route you have an odd situation where... Portia doesn’t know Lucio at all. Portia has never even made a deal with a major arcana like all the other members of the route. Currently, Portia’s biggest obstacle and threat to her personal morals IS Anastasia. It’s not crazy to think that she’d become Portia’s biggest villain and a major villain in general.

Here is also some fun screencaps to show some foreshadowing about Portia’s route maybe holding something a bit bigger. She used to pretend she was a lost princess and says these words exactly:

And well, she might not be betrayed for her own personal throne... the throne she serves is about to be betrayed...

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echoes-of-the-clockwork · 3 years

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Book One: Gold (Prompto x Reader) Chapter XVII

The following day, the royal retinue and guardian left Lestallum. With Gladio now back with them and the mythril refined, they were ready to head back to Cape Caem. It was a two-hour drive and once they arrived, they headed straight for the lighthouse. As they were about to step into the elevator, a dog with black and white fur ran up to Noctis. The boy kneels down, patting the canine's head. He then checks the notebook it's carrying.

While Noctis read Lunafreya's message, the golden-eyed dog trotted over to (Y/n). The spirit glanced down at the animal, wondering what it wanted when it barked at her. Squatting down, she held out her hand. The canine licked her hand, then nuzzled its nose against her palm.

"Hey, Umbra likes you!" Prompto stated excitedly.

"Umbra?" The girl reiterated.

"That's his name. He's a divine messenger of the Astrals." Prompto kneeled beside her and petted the top of Umbra's head. He abruptly stopped his ministrations when a thought crossed his mind. "Wait, wouldn't you be considered a divine messenger too? Y'know, since you can talk to an Astral?"

"Doubtful," she scoffed. "I'm not a divine being like Umbra. All I am is a vessel."

"Still, it's pretty cool."

After Noctis writes his reply in the book, Umbra moves away from (Y/n) and Prompto. He sits and waits patiently for the raven-haired boy to put the book back in the bag. With the book now back in his possession, the canine takes off. Everyone then boards the lighthouse elevator and rides it down to a basement area in a seaside cave. There, they find the hidden harbor and a makeshift living room area. The boat they'd be using to cross the ocean was docked nearby. Talcott, Iris, Cid and Cor appeared to have been waiting for them.

The little boy stepped forward with an excited gleam in his eyes. "Look, Prince Noctis! Even the marshal came to say goodbye!"

When the group reached the bottom of the stairs, Cor spoke up. "Something I gotta get off my chest."

Noctis met the marshal's somewhat melancholic gaze. "What's that?"

"I'm sorry. Sorry I wasn't there for your father. I swore an oath to protect the king, but I wasn't strong enough to uphold it." Cor lowered his head in shame.

Cid, who'd been silent until now, spoke up. "Ain't nothin' nobody could've done to stop what happened."

Noctis was quiet for a second before responding. "Yeah, I realize that."

"But you need to realize just what you mean to the boys by your side."

"I do."

"Even if they can't solve your problems, you can't hide what's goin' on from 'em. It hurts like hell. Remember—those ain't your bodyguards, they're your brothers. Trust in 'em. Always."

As Noctis glanced at his three closest friends, Cor finally took notice of the (h/c)-haired girl standing behind Prompto. He saw her slitted eyes and the golden gemstone embedded in her upper right arm. After recognizing her as a spirit, he approached her. "You..."

(Y/n) met the marshal's gaze. She felt a somewhat familiar sensation when staring into his eyes. The moment she went to speak, Prompto beat her to it. "Is there a problem, marshal?"

Cor's gaze never left the guardian. "May I speak in private with her, Prompto?"

"Um..." The blonde glanced over at the girl. "I...don't see why not."

"Then let's head topside."

(Y/n) followed Cor up the stairs and into the elevator. They rode it back to the top and stepped off. He leaned against the wall of the lighthouse, eyes still focused on the guardian. "It's been a while since I've met a spirit."

"You're familiar with my kind?" She asked. The marshal slipped one of his hands into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. The jewel adorning it was black, cracked, and had a silver phoenix wrapped around it. The guardian easily recognized the gem. "Marshal, you...?"

"I once had a guardian. Viola was my entire world until the empire killed her. Her death was entirely my fault." Cor gripped the necklace tightly. "Before I became a full-fledged member of the Crownsguard, I was nothing but a punk. During my training, I was sent on a mission outside the city. Damn imperials swooped in out of nowhere and ambushed my squadron. She protected me and lost her life in the process. I truly never knew pain until I lost her."

(Y/n) hung her head with a sorrowful frown. "I'm sorry for your loss, marshal."

"Even though it was over 20 years ago, the pain has never faded."

"Was Viola the one to tell you about the conduit?"

"Yeah. She learned about it from an elder guardian and told me about it during our final mission together." The marshal put the necklace back into his pocket. "So tell me, are you the conduit she spoke of?"

"I am. I only learned the truth after leaving the city and encountering the Archaean," she stated.

"Then our gamble paid off."

(Y/n) blinked in bewilderment. "What gamble?"

"The Crownsguard was aware of your presence within the city. You were only four years old when you and a baby were brought to Insomnia by one of our spies. We've kept tabs on you and the child in secret to ensure you weren't a threat to Lucis. Turns out, neither of you are." Cor analyzes the girl's face, but was slightly taken aback when her expression mellowed out. "You're not surprised by this news?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was," she confessed. "I never knew how I got to Insomnia, but I was aware of who I truly was. Verstael Besithia is my true master, not Prompto. I'm not the real (Y/n), I'm just a reproduction."

"So your memories of your creation are intact," Cor muttered. "Remember anything else?"

"Of course I do," she sneered. "That bastard is the one who killed the real (Y/n). I was made to replace her after she betrayed him. He thought making a perfect replica would erase the memories of the past, but he was wrong. I remembered everything when I turned 12."

Cor was thoroughly intrigued by the revelation. "Why did the real (Y/n) betray him?"

"His mind became corrupt and she no longer wanted to support his twisted experiments. She was set on leaving and sharing his secrets with Lucis, but he killed her before she could." She turned her back to the marshal. "I'm but a mere imitation of her with her memories. I'm a false guardian. Why the hell would Brahma choose me to be his vessel?"

"You might be a copy, but you're still a guardian nonetheless. If an Astral deems you worthy to wield his power, don't question it." Cor took a few steps back towards the elevator. "I've kept you long enough. You need to be on that boat with His Majesty."

(Y/n) stopped him before he could call the lift. "Wait, I want to ask you one last question. How'd you know who I was?"

A smirk appeared on the marshal's face. "You threw a fireball at me when you were five. Guess you don't remember."

"That was you?" She gasped. "So this isn't our first meeting."

"I was impressed by your power for a guardian your age. I'm the one who told His Majesty to keep you and Prompto together. We gave the bracelet to him once he was taken in by a family."

She rubbed her arm with a smile. "And I'm grateful you did."

"You kept your presence hidden well from the family. I'm surprised."

"Yeah, well, I was slumbering in the gemstone until Prompto turned five. How would I explain my situation to his adoptive family in a way they would understand?"

"You got me there." Cor summoned the elevator. When it arrived, they both rode it back down to the hidden dock. When the two stepped off the lift, they saw the boys and Cid were already aboard the boat. Seeing they were waiting for (Y/n), she said farewell to the marshal before quickly making her way to the boat. She climbed aboard just as the vessel came to life.

As the boat pulls away from the dock, Talcott suddenly shouts out to Noctis. "Hey! Your Majesty!"

"What's up?" Noctis replied.

"Please come back soon! We need our king!"

He nodded with a faint smile. "Yeah. Count on it."

Talcott and Iris wave goodbye and Noctis waves back. The boat leaves Cape Caem and soon enters open waters. (Y/n) stood near the stern of the boat. While the boys chatted, she leaned against the metal railing and stared across the glistening sea. Her (h/c) locks blew through the salty breeze, washing away the weariness in her body. She sighed contently and closed her eyes for a few seconds before reopening them.

Spotting a multi-colored reflection on the surface of the ocean, the guardian's eyes traveled up to the sky. There, she saw the Celestial Crescent glowing radiantly with an array of beautiful colors. Her blissful smile fell as she recalled her conversation with Cor. Curious, she spoke to the god of creation. "Can you hear me, Brahma?"

Yes, Child. I am always with you.

"You said I have a pure heart and hold no ill-will, but I'm a fake. How can a replica be a pure spirit?" She inquired.

You are no mere replica. You are a pure Child of Pneuma regardless of your fabricated body. No other spirit has proven themselves to be as pure as you. Cast your doubts aside for they will only cloud your mind.

She hung her head with a heavy sigh. "I understand, but that still doesn't mean I'm okay being a fake. The real (Y/n) died years ago."

Believe in yourself. That is all you can do. Whether you are a replica or not, you must see your worth. You are the inheritor of my power and none shall take your place. Hold your head high and walk tall, Child of Pneuma.

The god was right. She needed to stop calling herself a replica and believe she was her own individual. Her powers and experiences were her own and no one could ever tell her otherwise. The belief she had in herself that she extinguished was burning brighter than ever. She smiled up at the sky. "Thank you, Brahma." Pushing herself off the railing, she walked towards the plush bench Noctis, Prompto, and Ignis were sitting on.

"Nice of you to join us, short stuff," Gladio commented as she came to a stop in front of the bench.

"Sorry, had to clear my head," she said.

"You've been doing that a lot lately. Gil for your thoughts?"

"I'd rather not talk about it. It's more of an inner turmoil that I need to deal with myself."

Prompto was too curious and pried further. "Does it have to do with what the marshal said to you?"

She shook her head. "Not really, no."

"What did you two talk about, anyway?" Noctis inquired.

"He told me about Viola, his guardian. He lost her over 20 years ago. She's the reason why he knew about the conduit. That's...all we talked about." It wasn't the whole truth, but only a portion of it. The rest of the conversation she had with Cor would remain between her and him until she was ready to spill her darkest secret.

"The marshal had a guardian...?" Prompto gasped.

"He still carries around the necklace with her gemstone."

"He must've truly cherished her," Ignis commented.

Unconsciously, the marksman fiddled with the bracelet containing (Y/n)'s gemstone. "Yeah..."

Everyone fell silent. They enjoyed the sea breeze for a while until Cid sparked a conversation with Noctis. "So, soon you'll have yer old man's ring back."

Noctis nodded slightly. "Yeah. When we arrive in Altissia."

"Good thing. To him, it was his heritage."

"Is that what my dad said?" The raven-haired boy asked.

"Carrying a royal line ain't a task to be taken lightly," Cid explained. "For a small thing, that ring can sure weigh heavy. After he became king, I only ever saw his face in the paper."

"Wait—weren't you at the coronation?" Gladio questioned, interjecting into the conversation.

"Nah, I was long gone from the city."

"Must've been invited at least," Noctis commented.

"Had a fallin' out o' sorts with your old man. Right at the end of the trip," the old man said.

Prompto was taken aback at the revelation. "You did?"

Ignis then spoke up. "I was given to understand you stayed in touch."

"We buried the hatchet years later, but never talked face to face again. Shoulda paid a visit while I had the chance," Cid sighed sorrowfully. "Well, no use dwellin' on it now. Got the Regalia in the hold, but y'all gonna stay in Altissia for a good while, right?"

"Yes, we believe so."

"In that case, I'll tune her up for y'all. Not that I'll have much to do, though, what with Cindy lookin' after the old girl."

"If you say she's good, she must be great," Prompto said.

"She was never afraid o' hard work. Heaven knows she had a hard childhood."

""A hard childhood"?"

"He means her parents," Gladio clarified.

"Lost 'em both when she was little. Was big enough to understand, though...an' to hurt. But ya wouldn't guess that, seein' her now," Cid stated.

"Not at all. She's always so cheerful," Prompto said.

"Well, that oughta tell ya how far she's come."

(Y/n) decided to remain silent and listen to the conversation. She clasped her hands together behind her back, admiring Cindy from just how Cid talked about her.

After the conversation about Cindy died down, Gladio changed the subject. "Man, you must have seen your fair share of Altissia by now."

"Yeah... Only done been the once. Stayed a good while, though," Cid said.

Prompto leant forward, curiosity written all over his face. "What's it like?"

"Big ol' city."

""Big." Okay." Noctis was expecting more than just the word "big" and was clearly unamused.

"Well, it ain't the Crown City," Cid stated.

""Different." Got it."

"You'll see for yourself: foreign lands seldom lend themselves to trite explanations," the strategist claimed.

"Change o' scenery oughta do you good," Cid added.

Gladio huffed out a sigh. "Well, I'm all talked out. Can't be far to Altissia now, right?"

"We'll be there in no time. Nice having the wind at our backs."

"What should we do first when we arrive?" (Y/n) asked, glancing around at the boys.

"Lodging is our first order of business," Ignis answered.

Prompto sighed. "All work and no play..."

"Makes Ignis a dull boy," Noctis said, finishing his best friend's sentence.

"Someone has to babysit you two," Gladio stated. "Well, Noct still needs a babysitter. Prompto's already got one." His amber eyes landed on (Y/n).

The blonde went to retort, but then an idea came to mind. "You and Iggy can babysit Noct. I'm taking my special lady on a date!"

"It's not a date if she has to babysit your ass."

Prompto pursed his lips. "Hmph, you're just jealous I've got a beautiful goddess to walk around with."

"We're not good enough for you?" Noctis asked.

"I don't wanna walk around a city with a romantic atmosphere with three guys," the blonde groaned.

Gladio walked over and smacked (Y/n) on the back. "Good luck with this one, short stuff."

"I think a date would be nice," she confessed.

Prompto flew to his feet, pumping his fist into the air. "All right! This is gonna be so much fun!"

Once the blonde calmed down and sat back down on the cushy bench, Cid spoke up and mentioned he knew someone by the name of Weskham who runs a place by the name of Maagho. The group made note to visit the place after securing lodging.

A few minutes later, they enter Altissia waterways. The boat's radio came to life as a newscaster began broadcasting. "The government issued a statement promising that the reasons behind awakening the Hydraean would be clarified in the ceremonial address."

"Got a signal!" Prompto cheered.

"Delivering the address will be Lady Lunafreya, who was previously reported dead. This will mark her first public appearance since the violence that befell the signing ceremony."

"Lady Lunafreya's gonna give a speech?"

"Sounds like it," Gladio said.

"Lord knows—this world could use some wisdom," Cid sighed.

Ignis looked over at the raven-haired boy. "Won't be much longer now, Noct."

Noctis nodded. "Yeah."

Eventually, the boat pulls up to a guard who stands along the waterway. He asked the old man, "Does this vessel have an entry permit?"

Prompto was beginning to worry. "Uh, entry permit?"

"Relax. I got one." Cid holds up the entry permit the guard was asking for. "Here."

The Altissian guard examined the permit and nodded. "That's as old as they get. Seems in order. You may pass."

Cid drives the boat on ahead. Ignis eyed the old man and asked, "Prepared in advance?"

"You could say that. Thirty-odd years ago," Cid said.

"That's what the guy meant by "old"," Gladio remarked.

"Lucky us, eh?"

"That could've ended badly," Noctis commented.

"We could've always done some persuasion if it did," (Y/n) stated.

The prince met the girl's golden gaze. "You talking about bribery?"

"Something like that."

"Dude, that'd be sick!" Prompto chuckled. "Bribing our way into Altissia would totally be an amazing story to tell the others."

"I'm afraid we lack the funds for such a heinous act," Ignis said.

"Aw..." He hung his head with a dramatic sigh.

Cid slowly brings the boat into the docks. Everyone makes their way off the sea vessel and towards the city. Noctis walks up to a queue where some gatekeepers await. He was immediately stopped by one. "Sir! What is the purpose of your visit?"

"Purpose? Uh..." Noctis immediately looked at his advisor. "Ignis, a little help."

Ignis stepped forward and came up with the perfect excuse for them to enter the city. "We are scholars of the culinary arts, and we've come to study the renowned cuisine of your fair nation."

The gatekeeper believed the strategist. "Is that so? I wish you an enlightening stay."

The bespectacled man adjusted his glasses, turning to face Noctis. "Another one you owe me."

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter || Masterlist

#ffxv #ffxv x reader #final fantasy xv #final fantasy xv x reader #prompto argentum #prompto x reader #prompto argentum x reader

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rosezure · 3 years

Text

Songbird 1 - A Mission

Songbird - Chapter 1

A/N: This is sort of an AU kind of thing. It’s gonna mix fanon and canon info, so bear with me. It also contains spoilers for a lot of the BNHA/MHA plot (manga and anime). This is also very self-indulgent. The main character is an OC of mine, so I'm sorry if you're not into that.

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the BNHA/MHA universe, nor its characters. This work is intended for entertainment purposes only. My own characters are, however, of my creation.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death(s), including of family members. Some violence. Blood. Mentions of sharp objects such as knives, swords, scissors, etc. Tattoos. Swearing/strong language.

The sun shined down on Asa's wings, causing her white feathers to reflect the light into her opponent's eyes. This gave her the advantage she needed to send them flying backward, causing his back to hit one of the gym's walls.

"Another bloody training session, my Commander," Caique chuckled, handing Asa a bottle of water and a towel. The warrior was drenched in sweat, red in the face, and her ponytail was quickly slipping undone.

"Thanks, Caique," She thanked him, taking the bottle and gulping half of the content in less than 3 seconds.

"Wow, intense cardio today?" He teased, covering his smirk with a heavily tattooed hand.

"Why, yes, actually," Her eyebrows were raised as she patted the towel across her neck and face, "Will you be joining me for muscle training?" She set the items on a bench to her left.

"Unfortunately, we have a meeting in fifteen minutes with the parliament. You should get ready," He frowned, a grave tone lacing his words.

"Fuck," Asa groaned. If there was one thing she hated more than forced cardio, it was parliament meetings. Those old, white-headed people were a bore and downright entitled. This was going to be torture.

"You should avoid repeating that word during the meeting," Caique's sarcasm fell to deaf ears. Asa was already marching to the showers to make herself at least presentable for the meeting.

"We'll meet at the emerald doors?" Once again, he was ignored. The tall male smiled at her back with fondness. He felt sorry for the parliament members.

The truth was, the members were afraid of Asa. They often had to walk on eggshells around her, especially during meetings. Her herculean resolve to make sure the decisions being made would cater to the people's needs led her to - for lack of a better word - passionate verdicts. Until, eventually, Caique would swoop in and help them find a middle ground solution.

That was the only reason he was allowed into these meetings. He was only the Captain of the Royal Guard. But Asa, the Commander of Her Majesty's army, was a force to be reckoned with, especially when it came to the people. And she only listened to him.

In the parliament meeting room, the members were silently talking amongst themselves. You could say they were preparing for a storm. Kind of like we prepare ourselves before a gruesome class with a tyrant professor.

"I swear! That woman is too temperamental for her position. We don't need a Commander that'll lose their marbles every time a minor crime occurs. This is why I would've preferred the Queen had chosen Yara to be Commander." One of them grumbled as they all took their seats.

"I agree. But Minister Yara is doing a fantastic job! Farmers have never produced so much in such a short time! Her openness to new and sustainable practices is what brought our crops back to life!"

"True, but she would have made a fine Minister of Security. Though I believe perhaps Domi's warrior background would've also made a perfect fit!"

"Yes, yes!" They chorused in agreement. Yara and Domi listened to their whispers with frowns. They knew Asa better than anyone. Although she could be hard to deal with, she deserved her position more than anyone.

"Good morning," Asa's voice echoed in the large meeting room. The ministers took their seats, greeting her back with low voices and bowed heads. Caique and her scoffed as they sat down.

Not a minute later, the doors opened again. Santos, the Queen's right-hand man, came in. He was dressed in a long royal blue coat with silver trimmings, dark leather pants, and a white chemise. His black books clicked as he made his way to the end of the large table in the center of the room.

"Let's try to be as concise and objective as possible," He gave Asa a pointed look and sat down. She smiled back at him mischievously. The two had a brother-sister relationship. Santos often had to scold her for some of her escapades, so to speak.

The meeting began, and Asa tried her best to behave. Whenever he noticed her wings flutter, Caique would softly nudge her so she'd calm herself. It wasn't her fault these old farts were about as wise as a rotten egg. Oh, how she wished she could just sink her sword in-

"Minister Asa," Asa lifted her eyes from the table. "Please present your diplomacy strategies." Santos raised an eyebrow, urging her to do as he said.

"Right," Asa cleared her throat and stood up.

"Dear members of the court," She greeted them, "For our diplomatic measures and to ensure peace throughout the kingdom, I have a few strategies."

Two hours later, the meeting ended. Santos asked Asa to stay behind to discuss some plans they had, so she dismissed Caique.

Once the Hand of the Queen and her were alone, Asa took a seat closer to him and grabbed one of the papers stacked in front of him.

"If we could just convince Minister Isaac that the anti-rebellion plan is too extreme mayb-" Santos raised a hand, interrupting her.

"Asa, I didn't ask you to stay behind to discuss politics."

"You didn't?"

"No, I did not."

"Okay... Then for what? I have some training to conduct."

"I'm aware," Santos chuckled. "The Queen is coming to talk to you. It's somewhat of an urgent matter." He trailed off, unsure of how to explain the situation without alarming Asa. It was too late for that.

"The Queen?!" Asa all but shrieked. "What's going on? Are we under imminent attack? Have my scouts returned with grave news?" Asa stood up abruptly, ready to leave and prepare the army for an attack. Her wings were preparing to take flight when she felt a hand on her wrist.

"Calm down, Asa, please!" Santos tried his best to hold onto her.

"My child," Asa stilled at the Queen's voice. "Please calm yourself. You are Commander of the Royal Army, act as such."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Asa immediately answered, bowing in respect.

"Now, Santos, please explain why Asa isn't holding the usual training session right now." The Queen asked as she took Santos's seat.

Her Majesty, Queen Yeba of Pindorama, was a powerful and intimidating woman. She had brown skin, with a red undertone, pale yellow eyes, and white hair. Her facial features were always schooled to be serious, but the lines around her lips showed how much the Queen truly enjoyed life. She had full eyebrows, a slightly flat round nose, plump lips, and high cheekbones. Queen Yeba represented the richness and power of her land, and Asa had always admired her.

"Asa, as her Majesty had entrusted me with telling you why you're here," Santos began, "Please listen until the end. If you have any questions or objections, you can ask them once I'm done." Asa nodded for him to continue.

"Her Majesty has received an urgent message from the Prime Minister of Japan." Santos took the vacant seat to the right of the Queen. "They have recently dealt with a powerful villain, with a quirk named All For One. Unfortunately, the results of the confrontation were devastating. Many of their champions, or heroes as they call them, were lost in battle or severely wounded. Physically and mentally."

Asa furrowed her eyebrows. She knew that kingdom from the hours she spent reviewing war tactics and diplomatic agreements. They were on good terms, and she hoped they stayed that way.

"They were, however, able to capture the dangerous quirk owner, as well as some of his followers. Most importantly, they managed to capture his would-be successor, a man with a decay quirk." Santos looked at the Queen to confirm he could go on.

"Continue, Santos."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Santos cleared his throat and continued. "They believe our healing assistance would be of great help. We are known for our many powerful healing quirks. And our natural resources are valuable assets in the medical area."

"This is a wonderful idea, Your Highness," Asa smiled. "If we lend them a few of our healers and send some resources for their hospitals, our alliance will grow even stronger!"

"That is one of the points. But, I'm afraid you have a specific role to play in this part." Santos fiddled with his fingers, afraid of what Asa's reaction to what he was about to say would be.

"I don't understand," Asa frowned, "I'll prepare a team to escort the healers and equipment. Right?" She looked from the Queen to Santos back and forth.

"I shall tell her, Santos. Thank you for your help." The Queen smiled at him and stood up, her royal blue dress cascading down her frame.

"Asa, my child," Queen Yeba stood behind her chair and placed her hands on Asa's shoulders. "You are being sent as a healer. And you will stay as a show of our alliance."

"What?" Asa's voice dropped to a whisper. "Your Highness, I'm not a healer. I'm a warrior, a soldier at best. I live to serve you and the army." Her words were pronounced clearly, strongly. Her wings were puffed out.

"We need a spy there. The Prime Minister needs someone to keep an eye on their Hero Commission. It's an organization that has been causing nothing but trouble, and he fears what will happen should they get their hands on the decay quirk. Or worse." The Queen explained.

"Oh," Asa sighed in relief. "So I won't really have to act as a healer?"

"Not quite..." Santos intervened.

"Oh boy."

"Oh boy, indeed, Asa," Her Majesty chuckled. "You'll have to brush up on those healing techniques books."

"With all due respect," Asa pursed her lips, "The last time I practiced healing, I was six years old. It was before I lost my parents to the War of Clouds. I don't think I'm the right person for this mission." She bit her lip, trying not to think about her family.

"I understand." The Queen then did something unexpected. She kneeled next to Asa's chair and looked up at her, holding her hands.

"Listen, my child," She began. Asa's and Santos's eyes widened as they gaped at their monarch on her knees. Asa's entire body, including her wings, went rigid.

"You have to let go of the hurt and the wounds of the past," She squeezed Asa's hands in her own, "You can be the kindest and most talented healer of all times. It's in your blood. Allow yourself to reconnect with your roots, rediscover your quirk. Bring honor to your family, Asa of the Kuatamunato tribe."

"My Queen, I'm not sure. I don't want to cause issues if I can't perform any healing."

"That won't be a problem. You'll have plenty of time to prepare."

"Really? That's great! I'll start studying right away."

"Uh, Asa? Her Majesty meant you'll have plenty of time there."

"Wait, what?"

"Indeed, Asa," Queen Yeba stood up. "You're leaving tomorrow."

"My Queen!" Asa began to protest, but the Queen interrupted her.

"I won't hear your excuses anymore, Asa. Santos will explain the rest." The Queen left after that, not giving Asa a chance to object.

Asa turned to Santos, eyebrows almost touching her hairline.

"Well?"

"Right, I should probably explain it a bit more."

"Yeah, you should." Asa crossed her arms.

"Okay," Santos took a deep breath. "You now know about their situation and the kind of help they need. And you heard the Queen herself ask you to go and act as a healer."

"Yes, I'm almost painfully aware of that burden."

"Less sass, please. Just listen," Santos pointed his finger at her. "What Her Majesty means is that you'll be sent there as a healer, but also as a spy. Your actual mission will be to gather information on the Hero Commission and their illegal, borderline cruel activities. We have a few files you can go over during your trip."

"Okay, everything makes sense except for the healer part." Asa sighed. "Santos, you and I both know I am incapable of healing a freaking plant, let alone a bunch of champions from another country. I'm afraid this will be a disaster."

"Here's the thing: Your cover is going to be as healer and teacher at a hero high school."

"You're demoting me to school nurse?! I'm the fucking Commander of the Royal Army! I'm no school nurse!" Asa bellowed indignantly, her wings flapping behind her aggressively. Santos resisted the urge to snort at her outburst and continued.

"At the school, you'll also be lecturing music classes-"

"Ah, the classic Siren method."

"That is your quirk, Asa."

"Whatever. This still sounds insane."

"Asa!" Santos reprimanded. "Her Majesty is doing this for you. We considered sending other soldiers, spies, and healers for this task. We chose you because of your abilities, your training, and your quirk. You have to start letting go of the past. Her Majesty believes this will give you a chance to embrace your quirk." Asa felt her shoulders tense. He had no right speaking about her past like that.

"It's stopping you from developing. Your wings are growing weaker every year, and you know this. You know you need to use your quirk to keep your whole body strong. Why are you torturing yourself like this?" Santos was grasping at straws, hoping to get any sort of reaction from her.

And he did. Asa stood up, her icy blue eyes dark and glazed over. Her wings were wide open, intimidating him. She looked into his eyes and sneered.

"Because I wasn't enough. I couldn't save anyone." Asa gritted out. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Asa had to calm down. She couldn't lose control now.

"What time do I leave?"

"Tomorrow after lunch."

"Who's to take over after I leave?"

"Caique."

"Good. I've done my best to train Caique."

"I'll make sure to keep him in line."

"I hate that you're right."

"I know. I love you, too, my little sister." Santos walked over to her and pulled her into an embrace.

"Where in Japan am I going to?"

"Musutafu."

"I hate it already."

"Of course. It wouldn't be you if you didn't."

Chapter 2

#bnha #mha #hawks x oc #keigo takami x oc #hawks #keigo takami #bnha au #bnha oc #hawks fanfic #bnha fanfic #boku no hero academia #my hero academia

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t4tlawlight · 4 years

Photo

Intimacy versus isolation is the sixth stage of Erik Erikson's theory of psychosocial development. This stage takes place during young adulthood between the ages of approximately 18 to 40 yrs.

During this period, the major conflict centers on forming intimate, loving relationships with other people. We begin to share ourselves more intimately with others. We explore relationships leading toward longer-term commitments with someone other than a family member.

Successful completion of this stage can result in happy relationships and a sense of commitment, safety, and care within a relationship. Avoiding intimacy, fearing commitment and relationships can lead to isolation, loneliness, and sometimes depression. Success in this stage will lead to the virtue of love.

– “ Erik Erikson's Stages of Psychosocial Development”

...if we want the rewards of being loved, we must submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known.

– “I Know What You Think of Me”

this post is the second in a series about the tv drama! if you haven’t read the first part, you don’t have the full picture! read it HERE

this post is going to focus on L, and namely the way his relationships forge him into a better person across the span of the tv drama, and then it’s going to close off the cliffhanger on the previous post!

at the beginning of the series, the L we meet is decidedly not a good person. he’s not moralistic in the slightest, and we see him perform some pretty ghastly human rights violations across the series. he loves to say he's “just” and that the people he’s fighting against are evil, to the point that where soichiro questions him, he denies kira’s humanity by comparing him to a demon or devil:

Soichiro: You’ve gone too far. L: You shouldn’t think of Kira as human. He’s the devil.

-- Episode 1

[photo: a close up shot of L. we see him from the shoulders up, wearing his usual white ensemble, dark hair a mess. he is looking up at something above the camera. he is saying, "This Kira is a devil stained in greed."]

-- Episode 6

he’s very much like light in that regard. but he believes he has a right to spit in the face of basic human rights because the ends justify the means and that makes him, specifically, justified to do whatever he wants.

Matsuda: Sir, L just confirmed Kira’s existence and where he’s hiding in one fell swoop. Aizawa: Matsuda! Mogi: Pipe down. You saw that he sacrificed the life of a man to do it, even if he was scheduled to die. He’s doing the same thing Kira is.

-- Episode 1

worse, when called out on it directly by members of the task force (other than soichiro, generally speaking), L tends to throw it back in their faces by bringing up their fears of being killed by Kira if they don’t allow him to do what he wants:

Matsuda: You need to stop this at once! There must be other ways of investigating! L: Are you going to start an inquiry? Exposing your name and face to Kira? Mogi: This is a human rights violation. This would cost us more than our jobs. L: I thought we were risking our lives for this investigation, not our jobs.

-- Episode 4

Mogi: L, all else aside, this is a violation of human rights! L: Would you like to conduct the interrogation in the room itself? Showing your face to her?

-- Episode 6

this is exacerbated by the fact that L isn’t a detective because he genuinely believes in detective work as a way to enact justice. this is L's hobby. he's here to win, not to do the good thing, because that's not his style. he comes in on difficult that he thinks will be a good way to entertain himself and stretch his imagination, and then he solves them, and then he wins.

L: But that’s no reason to just give up and turn yourself in, Kira. You’re going to be found and your method of killing exposed... by me.

-- Episode 1

L: It didn't matter to me who the perpetrator was. On the contrary, I thought that to solve a crime with no clues at all would be the greatest thrill possible.

-- Episode 8

worst of all is that, while he justifies his human rights violations and outright torture of light and misa with it being a necessity, drama L--unlike in other adaptations--approaches it with utter glee, laughing as he keeps light awake for days on end and light begins to lose his sense of time, even while lying about kira not being active.

L: Light-kun! Don’t go to sleep! Kira hasn’t shown up yet.

L: [laughing] Are you okay? It appears your sense of time is beginning to atrophy.

-- Episode 6

so, in the beginning, L is, as i said, very much not moralistic. he's never had his perspective challenged in his life--near and watari are exactly the same way. watari is the one who enacts most of the things L says, and rarely offers dissent. when he does disapprove of L’s actions, he won’t do anything to stop them, and often won’t complain more than shaking his head and grumbling.

then he meets soichiro, and the very first thing soichiro does is ask:

[photo: soichiro yagami sitting at a desk. matsuda is standing behind him, and himura is standing a little further back. yagami is wearing a suit and tie, speaking to L on a laptop computer. he is asking, "What do you think human life is?"]

-- Episode 1

and soichiro questions L about lind L tailor for a little bit, demanding to know if L suspected the man could die. and L argues that he had permission, but later he calls on soichiro specifically to help him. this is partially because of soichiro’s hostage situation that paves the way for a lot of L’s suspicion on light, of course, but watari seems to think otherwise:

Watari: That’s unusual. You never invite people to meet you. Did his scolding have an effect on you, then? You like him, don’t you? L: ... Watari: You don’t meet many people who can leave you speechless.

-- Episode 1

later, L tells soichiro that L is fond of him directly:

L: I believe you are an extremely wonderful policeman. And to me, you are like a father, as well.

-- Episode 10

and soichiro calls out a lot of the things L does in these first episodes. L has been allowed to do whatever he wants for a long time; furthermore, he never shows himself to people aside from watari and near/mello. so soichiro is possibly the first person who matters who calls L out on something like lind L tailor, and is furious when L brings the FBI to Japan:

Soichiro: Either way, I can’t approve of FBI investigators having free reign to investigate on Japanese soil. I’m going to report this. [Soichiro leaves.] L: Do you think I made him angry? Watari: Oh, well... Quite.

-- Episode 2

later, when yotsuba-light comes on scene, the same thing happens, in a little way. yotsuba light scolds L whenever he’s a little bankrupt in the morals department and simultaneously is much, much more morally upright (in yotsuba arc) himself, asking L to be on the team so he could help stop kira (which moved L to taking off the handcuffs!). L says he thinks light has a lot of potential under the surface on multiple occasions, and credits himself for the transformation:

L: I appreciate your talent. Now, it’s possible that talent only blossomed since you met me... Maybe there was nothing to trigger it before, but there’s something very passionate sleeping inside you. I was thinking I could use that in the service of good.

-- Episode 5

Light: Please, let me help. I want to catch Kira with you. Soichiro: Light... Light: If we’re going to be tied together because you suspect me anyway, Ryuga, I want to be tied to you in purpose, as well. Matsuda: But Light-kun is a student... L: He’s no mere student. As the one who encouraged his talent to bloom, I guarantee this. Let’s catch Kira and finish this together.

-- Episode 7

furthermore, L believes yotsuba light--he doesn’t think he’s lying to him.

L: By the way, Light-kun, you wanted to enter public service, didn’t you? Light: Yeah. Why? L: The police are a public service, aren’t they? When you were a child, you wanted to be one, didn’t you? Light: When my mother died when I was a kid, my father was off chasing a criminal... I thought my father’s form of justice couldn’t be worth much, if he had to sacrifice even his family to see it through. But... yeah. Now I sort of feel like I understand. Because I feel the same way he did. I want to catch Kira, no matter what. L: [internally] From what I can see, this seems unlikely to be a performance to deceive us. Which means...

-- Episode 7

between soichiro and yotsuba light, L receives quite a bit of both feedback on his own actions and examples to go by.

there’s one major example of L’s change, morally speaking: when raye penber is approached by kira, L and watari are listening, but in an example of early L being deficit in the morals department, he doesn’t move to do anything. he doesn’t warn the FBI, he doesn’t stop raye. L tells watari not to do anything, because they have the opportunity to perhaps learn how Kira kills.

[photo 1: a close up shot of L. he is staring wide-eyed to the viewer's left, holding a green lucky charge jelly pouch. he is asking, "You want to kill the whole FBI?"

photo 2: L is sitting at his desk on his laptop, holding a lucky charge pouch and staring at his computer. watari stands beside him, wearing a brown suit and a bowtie, saying, "L..."

photo 3: L again, at his desk in front of his laptop. he is holding a lucky charge pouch close to his mouth. he is saying, "We could learn how Kira kills."]

-- Episode 3

Matsuda: Then you used him as bait? L: I did it to catch Kira. I didn’t have a choice. Aizawa: Didn’t have a choice?!

-- Episode 4

and L, after the FBI in japan are wiped out is clearly affected, but it’s less guilt from all of the people he let die and more to do with perceiving himself as having lost.

L: After I was so close to learning how Kira kills...

L: This time, I lost.

-- Episode 3

flash forward forward to yotsuba arc and yotsuba light and specifically the final confrontation with higuchi. higuchi, now with the shinigami eyes, is now going to the drama version of sakura TV to kill matsuda. they have this exchange:

[photo 1: light speaking into a wireless microphone. we see him from the shoulders up, wearing black. he is saying, "Dad, arrest Higuchi the minute he gets there."

photo 2: a close up shot of L and light. we cannot see light's face, as he's turned to L in surprise. L says into a microphone, "No. Let's watch him a little longer."

photo 3: the same scene, countermeasures. L is sitting at his desk, holding a microphone close to himself. light stands beside him, laptop open on the desk. he is asking L, "Hey. What are you talking about?"]

-- Episode 7

this is the perfect parallel to the raye penber situation. L wants to let higuchi continue to sakura TV and act unimpeded in his attempt to kill matsuda because at this stage they still don’t know how Kira kills, which is precisely how raye penber died. this time, however, light argues with him:

L: We haven’t established his method of killing yet. Light: This is Kira we’re dealing with! Matsuda-san and my dad are in danger! L: In order to catch Kira, we must confirm his way of killing. Light: People’s lives are on the line! Hey. All the names of the people killed so far are written in that notebook, right? That would be proof, wouldn’t it? Even if we learn how he kills people, if a comrade dies, that’s losing, in my opinion.

-- Episode 7

and this is the first real evidence that the yagamis are actively changing the way L operates, because he does.

L: Yagami-san, arrest Higuchi. Like the second Kira, Higuchi has become a Kira that can kill by face alone. Please keep that in mind when you arrest him. Soichiro: Got it. Light: Ryuga... L: We won’t let the likes of Higuchi beat us. Let’s get that notebook as proof.

-- Episode 7

they do the mannequin swap and catch higuchi and nobody else dies.

soichiro has exactly the same impact-- in the manga, L dies because he's going to test the 13 day rule by having a prisoner on death row write in it, and if they don't die in 13 days they get to go free. this is what makes rem kill him to protect misa, because doing this, despite it being perhaps not the most morally upright thing, is guaranteed to prove that the 13 day rule is fraudulent.

he never does this in the drama, because when he tells soichiro he had the idea, they have this exchange:

L: I thought about negotiating with the Ministry of Justice to see if they would verify it by carrying out death sentences. Soichiro: I can’t approve of that. Even if they’re on death row, they’re still people. If we take their lives indiscriminately, we’re no different than Kira. L: I thought you’d say that, so I decided not to.

-- Episode 8

yet again, L doesn’t go with the easy solution because interacting with the yagamis has inflicted him with some semblance of morality.

at this point, it’s important to discuss the nature of L and light’s relationship in the tv drama. for the most part, it’s similar to how it operates in the mangaverse, but with a major exception: L and light buy into their own manipulation. frequently, L and light call each other their friends:

L: Be my friend. That’s the favor I wanted.

-- Episode 4

Light: If I were Kira, I wouldn’t say that, would I? L: That’s true. I guess you really aren’t Kira after all. I certainly hope you aren’t, anyway. Because you’re the first friend I’ve ever had.

-- Episode 5

these incidents in the tv drama are just like in the manga: examples of L and light manipulating each other. the change arises when light loses his memories and thus the context of the mind games--he begins to earnestly believe that L and light are friends.

[photo 1: a dimly-lit shot of only light's face. he is begging L, "Please believe me!"

photo 2: he asks, "We're friends, aren't we?"]

-- Episode 6

Matsuda: Did L tell you to call him Ryuga? Light: Yes. It’s the alias he used the first time we met. Matsuda: If you know it’s an alias, why do you call him that? Light: The truth is, I guess I’d rather he be my friend Ryuga than the detective L.

-- Episode 7

Light: I would have wanted to show you, too… The world Kira would create… If I could have… I’d have wanted… I’d have wanted to be your friend forever.

-- Episode 8

this in turn, combined with spending prolonged time with light during yotsuba arc, has an effect on L.

Near: Hey, why did you let Yagami Light in on the investigation? You think he’ll let something slip? L: That’s part of it. Near: So you do think he’s Kira. L: I don’t know. Part of me wants him to be Kira. Part of me wouldn’t mind if he wasn’t.

-- Episode 7

it's the second part of that line from the drama i used as evidence earlier--

L: It didn't matter to me who the perpetrator was. On the contrary, I thought that to solve a crime with no clues at all would be the greatest thrill possible. L: Then I met you, and for the first time, I became interested in a person.

-- Episode 8

thus begins the ending to episode 8 and the beginning of episode 9, which forms one coherent scene which i’ve nicknamed “the blue scene” as shorthand, so now you know what i mean when i reference it. the blue scene truly begins with L inviting light to an abandoned building--perhaps one under construction--and invites light to join him after presumably pondering the situation there for some time.

we learn from near THIS LITTLE COMMENT near the end of the show:

Near: L struggled over whether or not he should reveal your identity. It's possible he was trying to understand, in his own way, how you felt becoming Kira.

-- Episode 11

this mindset we can see during this scene where L is doing puzzles with near:

[photo 1: a completely white puzzle with no designs or patterns. it is unfinished, piece pieces surrounding an empty gray space. L is thinking, "If Kira's power does move between people, then it must be the will of Kira himself."

photo 2: L, wearing an extremely neutral expression. he is holding up a white puzzle piece between his index and thumb, staring at it. he is thinking, "Even if Yagami Light's memories of being Kira have been erased--"

photo 3: L from the waist up, sitting down on the floor. near is sitting in front of him, although we can only see the back of his arm as he faces L. L's thought from the first photo continues with, "--could he still recover that ability?"

photo 4: L rests his elbow on his knee, still sitting on the floor. his eyes are downcast. He is thinking, "I don't sense anything suspicious from Yagami Light."

photo 5: L, staring down at the puzzle. He is thinking, "I just have to capture the current Kira and finish this."]

-- Episode 7

L makes a concentrated effort to understand how and why light became kira, as shown in the beginning of the blue scene when he asks light why he became kira in the first place and then tells him L’s best guess as to why--which, because L knows the situation and light himself so well at this point, is the correct answer.

L: Why did you start using this thing? Did you lose to the allure? The first time you killed someone, it was not fully understanding what the notebook did, right? Then you got scared and tried to throw it away, right? But you were forced into a situation where you had no choice but to use it.

L: Then Yagami Light became Kira. No... The voices of those who despised crime turned Yagami Light into Kira. But that’s just an excuse, isn’t it?

L: I want to stop you. Because we’re friends, you know? So admit you’ve lost. That you’re Kira.

-- Episode 8

and part of this is because he's been with yotsuba arc light. he likes him, he’s taken his advice. it's not as cut and dry as "i arrest light, i arrest Kira, and i win the game." anymore.

the entire episode 8 section of the blue scene is, to be clear, just a parallel of the scene where soichiro pretends to shoot light to prove he’s not kira. it's exactly the same. they bring light out, give light a scenario, and then threaten to murder him and see what happens.

[photo 1: soichiro yagami, pointing a gun at his son. the first photo is from further away; we can see light cowering on the ground and staring down the barrel. he says, "As fellow murderers,”

photo 2: soichiro from the shoulders up, brow furrowed. he finishes, "let's meet again in Hell."]

-- Episode 6

[photo: the blue scene. the lighting is a saturated blue, tinting L's shirt and skin. he looks down, saying, "Then let's meet in the afterlife in thirteen days."]

-- Episode 8

whereas yotsuba-light passed the test, light in the blue scene does not.

[photo 1: light stands above L, who has been thrown against some construction materials and is laying on the ground. light is saying, "I can't afford to lose to you."

photo 2: photo 2: from shoulders-up, we see light looking regretfully down at L. he is saying, "I'm creating a perfect world, without crime."]

-- Episode 8

that being said, in order to understand L and his decision making in this scene, you have to also understand that L thought that he was safe--that Light had no chance of getting his name. that was not part of the scenario in L's head. L had no way of predicting mikami being in the countermeasures office at that exact moment.

L spends the entire scene basically asking light over and fucking over again just to admit he's kira.

[photo 1: the first of multiple screenshots of the blue scene in which L is in various degrees of being brutalized, because he and light are fighting physically throughout. in the first, they are facing each other, standing. L says, "So admit you've lost."

photo 2: L is crouched over. we cannot see most of his face or expression. he says, "Then admit you've lost!"

photo 3: L is splayed against some construction materials. blood drips from the corner of his mouth. he is curled in on himself, covering his stomach with his arm. he is saying, "Will you admit you've lost and atone for your crimes,

photo 4: L finishes, “or write your own name in there and die?"]

-- Episode 8

given that the death note is fake L essentially gives him two options that ultimately amount to telling L that he’s Kira, except one of them is telling L he's kira with words and one of them is telling L he's Kira by trying to kill himself if light didn’t get mikami's help in that moment, his options are to do either of those things, deny it until soichiro and the rest arrived, leave outright, or... kill L with his bare hands, which is the most unlikely scenario here.

this is all the same reason why L doesn't really fight in the fight scene--he puts up the illusion of a fight, as though he wants Light to give up the note, but in reality he wants light to get the note.

if you watch through the scene, it plays out like this:

light slaps the death note out of his hands.

L bodychecks light into some, like, bags of padding so he doesn’t grab it.

light kicks L in the stomach with both feet.

L pushes light again once he grabs the death note. he does it once again once they both get to it.

light kicks L in the stomach for the second time. he then grabs L on the ground and punches L in the face with such force that his skull bounces off the concrete.

L then walks off his concussion and actually punches light, actually attacking him for the only time during the sequence before yelling at him

light knees L in the stomach, for the third time; punches him in the face; and then kicks L in the stomach for the fourth time.

L falls against some boxes and sandbags and the fight is over.

the only time L actually hits light is the punch after light knocks his skull against the floor. the rest of the time he’s grappling because he wants Light to think he's in danger, and he wants to see who he really is. because he likes light. he likes light enough that he struggles enough with whether or not he wants to arrest him and tries to see his point of view, enough so that near knows about it and can comment about it. and light fails spectacularly. he gets the mikami message which is proof enough that he's kira on its own. if he stopped it there, that’s enough proof for an arrest. he didn't need light to write his name if it were a test to see if light is kira. but it isn't. because L already knew that. he wanted to know what light would do, and he found out.

L: Do you feel like you’re God? Light: Kira could become God!

-- Episode 9

which i think is why he’s so bent on having light confess in the first place. he's not doing it just to arrest the man, which is why it's a "who he is as a person" test. that's WHY it's the same as the yotsuba light test up until light fails, at which point they actually start very obviously drawing parallels to the lind L tailor test, which was lights first big failure and really the start of his moral event horizon and the beginning of their rivalry to begin with.

Lind L. Tailor: Justice always wins. Light: No, it doesn’t, That’s why Kira was born!

-- Episode 1

L: Justice always wins. Light: No, it doesn’t. That’s why Kira was born.

-- Episode 9

but also more than that L wanted light to confess to him so that he could satisfy that part of him that started this, that has to Win the Game. the part of him that’s been taking cases all of this time. if light gives up L can say he won and satisfy that part of him, because up until now his moral compass was guided by what was most interesting to him, and of course the kira case was as he said very interesting to him. but he wants to move on from it so that he can be friends with light. he wants to know that light trusts him too and wants to be friends so that he can have light work with him instead and use his genius constructively.

L mentions multiple times that since light has met L he’s had the chance to show the genius that was hidden because of light’s stagnant upbringing, and L wants light to work with him. at the end of light’s analysis post, i brought up that light believed the only way he could be happy is through the power and masculinity given to him through the note. i also linked tumblr user whoresband’s analysis, and once again i think it’s pertinent to share their thoughts:

L rejects social norms, he lives as he desires, and it is only men L becomes close with. L seems to heal with light. light inspires something kinder in him, something that wants to care and be cared for. and moreover, L ignites a spark in light, inspiring him to achieve and challenge himself and be better.

L’s rejection of society and closeness with other men is the route light couldve chosen and did not. L begging him to confess that he is kira is also a plea for him to confess that he loves L. L wanted light to see the value in loving him, to see how much he could be with him, and that his embrace of the social values that had caused him this pain was not the only way to free himself from that pain.

at the end of the show, in his final tape--the *what if* tape, which he created in the event that light was not kira, he expresses that he wants light to work with near.

[photo 1: a very close image of a tablet watari is holding up. a video is playing, pre-recorded by L before his death. he is sitting in his chair at countermeasures, saying, "Light-kun, I'm sorry for doubting you."

photo 2: watari and near at L's grave, which is headed by a very large white cross. near's back is to us. watari is still playing L's video. L is saying, "I believe that you'll become a great police officer like [Soichiro] Yagami-san some day.”

photo 3: a close up of watari holding the tablet. L onscreen continues, “If it suits you, you could also become a detective and work with Near."]

-- Episode 11

i think if light had confessed and showed that he was still the same as he was during yostuba arc, and more importantly still was friends with L, L wouldn’t necessarily have turned him into the police, and certainly wouldn’t have executed him. i think he might have tried to convince light to join him, to enact his sense of justice alongside L instead of as Kira.

in the end, though, what i think could have happened doesn’t matter. light rejected L’s offer, and they both died for it.

even still, there’s a point to be made about the symbolism in the tv drama--it’s incredibly overt. that’s a post for another day, but it’s worth mentioning that light is consistently symbolized by a moon hanging in the sky.

in the last shots of the tv drama, that moon hangs over L’s grave, together in death.

[photo: a very serene scene. L's grave, located on an otherwise seemingly empty grassy hill. it is a large white cross. watari and near are leaving, going down the hill. in the cloudy blue sky, a full moon is visible just above L's grave marker.]

-- Episode 11

#death note #death note drama #death note analysis #L lawliet #light yagami

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therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

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❉ 139 Dreams (Adult Reborn) Longing

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Romance ☁

Word Count: 1,213 ☁

Pairing: Reader x Adult Reborn ☁

World: Katekyo Hitman Reborn! ☁

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You sat in your bedroom, staring blankly at the wall. Your body was there, but your mind had drifted off elsewhere.

You had been there when the mysterious talking infant named Reborn first appeared in front of Tsuna, claiming to be a hitman and tutor there to train Tsuna to become the next generation mafia boss for the Vongola Family. You had been there when Reborn put him through rigorous and embarrassing tests (some of which you were sure he did for his own amusement) and you were there during the ring conflict between Tsuna’s family and the Vongola special assassination squad known as Varia.

You had been there for it all.

Every single time, however, your eyes always stayed trained on the small infant. From the very first time you had met him, you felt… drawn to him; intrigued. You weren’t sure why, but you ended up assuming it was just your overly curious nature. Who wouldn’t be curious when a talking infant suddenly shows up claiming to be a hitman tutor?

Without realizing it, you slowly began to develop feelings for the small boy. At the time it began, you were too wrapped up in other things to notice it, and now it was too late. There was no turning back; you had lost your chance to run away. You now realized that you were in love with Reborn. There was no denying it anymore.

If you had realized it sooner, you could have backed off and saved yourself the pain – the pain of falling head over heels in love. Which is why you now sat alone in your room while Gokudera and the others were at Tsuna’s house with Reborn, chatting and having fun.

You longed to be there with them.

You longed to be there with Reborn.

But you knew you’d only find hurt seeing how Bianchi felt about Reborn, and him completely brushing off her feelings… you were afraid he’d do the same to you if he found out and that’s not something you were able to take. You honestly respected Bianchi for being able to handle the rejection and keep trying. At the same time, you cursed yourself for being so weak and cowardly.

With a sigh, you fell back onto the bed, letting your eyes slide closed as you drifted off into unconsciousness.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

You skipped last period so you could go home without having to worry about running into Tsuna and company. Hibari would have your ass about it later, but you couldn’t care less.

You sighed tiredly, pushing open the front door to your silent apartment, throwing your bag on the floor. The kitchen was normally lit up from the sunlight streaming in through the sliding glass doors, but dark clouds covered the sky, allowing darkness to engulf the small kitchen.

Had you really turned all of the lights off when you left this morning? That wasn’t something you normally did. Then again, you’ve been doing a lot of things you wouldn’t normally do.

You turned to head towards the fridge to get a much-needed soda when you suddenly froze.

Was that… a figure sitting at your kitchen table? It was too dark to tell for sure, but you could barely manage to make out the outline of a person. The shadow moved, standing up and slowly making its way towards you. You took a step back for every step it took forward until your back made contact with the wall.

You didn’t feel afraid. That thing couldn’t possibly put you through any more pain than you had been feeling lately, so what was there to be afraid of? You knew you were acting depressive (and possibly crazy), but you couldn’t help what you felt.

The shadow’s hand moved to rest on the wall next to your head while the other flicked the switch. Light filled the dark kitchen, lighting up the man that stood in front of you. He was tall, with black hair and dark eyes that seemed to shine with amusement. He was wearing a suit and a fedora. If you had to guess, you’d say he was a member of the mafia. But why would he be in your house? You were friends with Tsuna, sure, but you never joined his family.

More importantly, how the hell did he get in your house? In your scatterbrained moments as of late, you figured you probably forgot to lock the door… again.

And why the hell did he look so damn familiar to you?

A deep chuckle left the man’s lips as he leaned closer. “Welcome home, amore mia.” The fact that he was speaking Italian proved that he was most likely a mafioso. That still didn’t tell you why he was in your house or who he was.

You pondered the familiar factor, wondering why you felt as if you knew him. You examined the black hair that spiked out from under his fedora to the curly sideburns and dark eyes. Wait… No no, that’s not possible.

But…

Your eyes widened as you realized who was standing in front of you, despite how impossible it seemed. “Re… Reborn…?”

The corners of his lips twitched up and he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “Si, amore mia?”

You weren’t so non-bilingual that you didn’t understand what Si meant. He had just confirmed that he was, in fact, the Reborn you had come to love.

“How…?”

He chuckled, moving so that his lips lightly brushed your own. “I’ll explain later. For now, allow me to give you what you’ve been longing for, for so long.”

Before you could question him, he swooped down and grabbed you in a passionate yet gentle kiss. Your body went rigid in shock, heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could only make out one thought in your haze filled brain: Kiss him back!

You quickly grabbed his suit jacket in your fists, pulling the male’s body closer to your own. The kiss intensified and Reborn ran his smooth tongue across your bottom lip, asking for entrance which you immediately granted. As your tongues danced in harmony, Reborn’s arm snaked around your lower back, pressing you farther into his body. His free hand moved up to rest against the back of your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss further.

Several minutes passed before Reborn pulled away, that infamous smirk on his face as he watched your reaction. You were breathing heavily, face slightly pink as you stared up at him with half-lidded eyes that were clouded with love.

Reborn moved so that his lips brushed against your ear. “You don’t have to long for me anymore, my love. You have me, all to yourself.”

You smiled slowly, feeling warmth and happiness begin to bloom within your chest. Your arms wrapped around his neck, face pressed against his neck. He let out another deep chuckle, his arms wrapped securely around your body.

Reborn would never admit it out loud, but he too had been longing for you since the moment you had met, but he wanted to wait until he could hold you like this before he made a move. He wanted to be able to hold and kiss you. And you agreed that it was worth the wait.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: . ☁

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

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flyswhumpcenter · 4 years

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Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me requests according to this marvelous card! (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled.)

[SPOILERS FOR SWORD & SHIELD START HERE].

Oh Hop, my sweet, sweet summer child.

I've used a similar setting in three fics already. Time to get original bitch. Anyway! This story was a test run for a Postwickship fic for me and it's a success: I've had tons of fun. This is supposed to be set post-game but in an AU where Shieldbert and Swordbart or whatever their Eng names are didn't show up to steal old rusty held items idk. I just really wanted to write hurt/comfort for them lol I headcanon the player character and their crew as 16 in SwSh so they're 16-17 here. I wouldn't puncture the lung of a 10-year-old, jeebus. This could be a little incoherent because I wrote it in more than one sitting and while doing some research on the side at times, so I hope this is satisfying to someone out there.

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Anima Curanda (A Soul Who Will Be Cared For)

Summary: Hop tries finding his way back to civilization after a trip field gone wrong, Gloria finds her best friend injured in Postwick and the air surrounding them is filled with unanswered questions, undisclosed pain and concerns. A lot of concern.

Fandom: Pokémon Sword and Shield Ship: Pre-rel Hop/Gloria (Postwickshipping)

Wordcount: 3.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

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Hahaha, it hurts! It just hurts!

What hurts? Too much to keep track off, frankly. He just aches all over, from head to toe; from the migraine of having barely slept to the pain of having walked and biked for days and days; from the dark thoughts he tries to keep buried from the outside world and the hazards on the ground that he stumbles over when he starts to overthink things.

Despite how many times he’s been curb-stomped to the ground, how many times he’s flown in the air after the shockwave a move can make, and how much all of these hurt afterwards, he’s kept rising to his feet over and over again. He’s lost to his rival ten times already, he’ll never shine as bright as his brother or the friend he spent his childhood with, unbeatable as they are and ordinary as he is. He’s nothing special, nothing shiny, just nothing.

Portraits of Lee decorating the living room and countless discussions between his own family aside, there’s a lot of other things that tell him he’s the inferior product. A lot of other little, tiny things – of details, even – that ache to think about, that pinch his heart to the point of being slightly nauseous.

Everyone on his team has fainted, aside from Dubwool who’s courageously fighting the hail with him. He regrets having ever taken his first partner, his most loyal one, away in some PC box out of the sheer mass of his insecurities, of that constant will to improve despite nothing good ever coming from that. He hangs onto its Ball as firmly as he can, the strength of it making him afraid he’ll make it shatter if he clenches it too strongly.

He’s actually surprised he feels this strong to begin with. After trekking for days, fighting everything he could, trying to find new members to reinforce his team, it’s surprising he can still think of himself as strong enough to do that. If it wasn’t for the pain bolting in his chest, he wouldn’t be clenching that ball as if his life depended on it.

And what a pain it is! It started with the missed Psycho Cut of a wild Gallade, whom Corviknight had narrowly the assault of shortly before getting taken down itself, hitting right into the left side of his chest and most likely at least making some internal damage in there. That was around two days ago, if he isn’t wrong, and it’s shown no sign of hurting less anytime soon.

It bruised rapidly, or so he thinks compared to those he’d often get when he was younger (and also not unlike the ones Lee got during the Eternatus incident, on second thought…). Pressing a hand against it too strongly makes him yelp in pain while his skin keeps worsening in colour around where he got it. He was lucky for it not to have bled on the spot, but that doesn’t make anything much better: it still hurts a ton and he still has trouble breathing because of it. If it’s not getting better after a couple days, when will it do so?

At times, black dots appear all over his vision, for some reason, and he starts swaying and staggering until Dubwool catches him back with its fur. He used to apologize verbally, the first times that’d happen; but he’s found himself having less and less breath to give his excuses with. Sentences became a couple words, words some syllable.

It doesn’t help that he’s constantly lightheaded and easily gets dizzy. If he moves a little too rapidly, his vision goes for a swim and may not come back. If it wasn’t for Dubwool fending off the Sneasels that take interest in them at times, he’d have been a goner for sure. He has the feeling this is all related to his injury, to that toxic-looking bruise that’s festering under his miserable layers, but doesn’t see exactly how. Well, that’s not entirely true: he can easily suppose it’s because that injury makes it harder to breathe, so much harder, because of the pain it fires up in him every time he tries to speak and breathe.

The city is in sight. Wyndon’s lights and tower are in view, and he finally feels some relief, Dubwool seemingly bleating in agreement. However, right as he charges his legs to rush there, he trips over some ice, his damp sole gliding for a split second, losing his balance and falling again. Dubwool doesn’t have the time to react properly and stop him, so he falls right on his chest from all of his height, a sickening thumb resonating with his fall. The air gets propelled out of his lungs in one fell swoop, dizzying him even further.

He has no time to lose, especially not what he’s that close to the city, so he tries getting up on his arms. The pain that has been dully brushing against his ribs is now acting in an even fuller swing, the black dots not leaving his line of sight, almost preventing him from breathing altogether. He could stop to take a taxi, but what if he’s to pass out before it even comes? No, no, he has no time to lose…

His legs have endured a beating of their own before, decorated with scratches and bruises from the rocks he didn’t see coming and the claws of the local wildlife, tired of pushing on themselves to make him keep going. As a result, he has to use Dubwool as a support, failing to rise up once or twice before managing to finally regain a footing and continue his route to Wyndon. He’ll be there soon, he’ll be able to know what’s wrong and to finally give himself actual rest. Arceus, doesn’t that sound amazing?

He suddenly coughs violently, not even having the time to say anything or even put a hand in front of his mouth. He’s left gasping for air, unable to really make oxygen enter his chest anymore, especially once he sees what has just gotten out of his system, spread on the snow like an unremovable stain on an immaculate carpet. This is it: he has to go forward now or he’ll never see the light of day again.

With tremendous efforts, he makes it to Wyndon, out of breath; legs shaking in instability and arms tired of holding a hand against an injury that most likely doesn’t get any better from getting pressed. He’s still coughing, even if it hurts him even more to do so, and he’d just like to laugh it all off. He’d have done that if the pain wouldn’t get even more excruciating from such a gesture alone. The Centre is very much near now, and he can get there if his chest doesn’t give up on him too. Still, there’s another sight that makes him stop for a few seconds, and a shiver goes down his spine.

In the distance is his childhood best friend, his journey companion, his (former?) rival, waving at him vigorously. She’s smiling, grinning even, as he runs towards him. It’s only when she notices the hand clutching the hurtful part of his abdomen that Gloria drops the smile and immediately worries. It’s kind of hard to say for sure when most of his vision is blurry from the tears that are flooding it by the second.

D-dammit, he doesn’t want to worry her of all people!

“Hop, are you alright?” She asks, voice hesitant, in a tone he hasn’t heard in a little while.

“Y-yeah, I… I should be… real soon…!” He’s breathless and speaking hurts even further; yet tries smiling, only for his face to follow his chest.

“You’re sure about that? You look like you’re in pain!”

“It’s nothing…! I pro –”

Before he can pronounce his false oath, he starts coughing again, despite all his best efforts not to. The thing building up in his airways gets out anyway, no matter what he wants, and his vision starts swimming again. He’s afraid he’ll blackout before he can reach the Centre, so he should quickly stop that conversation and…

“Let me see.”

He stares at her for a millisecond, eyes squinting. He was just about to grab a tissue and clean the inside of his palm.

“Hop,” her voice strengthens, reminiscent of the Champion who’s beaten his until then undefeatable brother. “Please, Hop, let me see. It really doesn’t sound right.”

He reluctantly gives her his hand, the black dots dancing around them like will-o-wisps. She doesn’t respond to it, her reaction instead cementing itself in silence. That is, until she finds what words she wants to put on it. It drops in a glacial, no-nonsense tone, raw and undignified:

“…I’m calling for help.”

Before he could interrupt her attempt at doing so, the quick move he tried to pull off to do so makes itself felt and he collapses on his knees, the pain in his chest unbearably intense. It’s like he’s been kicked in the abdomen, and then someone was twisting something inside of it. Breathing is becoming impossible, or at least barely, from how painful it is to inhale and exhale, from how difficult it is to simply focus on that with such a hazy mind. He wants to cry, but that sounds like choking himself even further…

Gloria seems to be over with her call rapidly, as she next kneels down to his level, her warm hands on his cold shoulders, then on his forehead. Her touch is delicate, as if she’s stroking crystal, while he’s busy not strangling himself with whatever’s happening inside of him at the moment. She gives him soft words of reassurance, shelters him with her arms from the rest of the world, tells him he doesn’t have to lie or suffer anymore. He likes that. He wishes his arms could do the same for her, but she simply is so much stronger than he is, and there is nothing he can do about it. Maybe, one day, he’ll be able to pay her out…

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon,” is the last thing he hears before his vision fades to black.

Gloria wishes she could have been waiting with Dubwool by her side, both so she wouldn’t be alone and because it’s her best friend’s closest partner; but, naturally, that’s not possible in a hospital, so she instead fumbles with its Ball.

She tried calling Leon and Sonia earlier to warn them about what had happened, but neither of them responded. If she’s to assume, she’d say Leon is busy with managing the Battle Tower and Sonia is head-deep into her studies, may have had a sleepless night and is now snoring over her desk, left unable to be awaken by her phone (which she most likely put on Plane Mode anyway…). She’ll have to wait for them to pick them back up and call her back, then. Ah, that sort of stuff happens. Plus, they can’t have known.

They really can’t guess what happened.

She can’t quite put back the pieces, at the moment, because of how little she knows about the sequence of events that brought Hop to Wyndon, on a fairly sunny day with cold air, with most of his party fainted, an exhausted Dubwool and, most of all, a couple broken ribs. If Hop can communicate with Dubwool, then she really can’t, even if she’s never wished that much in her life that she could understand bleating. She hadn’t even considered the question until today!

What worries her the most is the blood he was spitting when he was trying to talk to her. Is that a symptom of broken ribs? She can’t remember having ever broken such a bone in her life, or known someone who did. Truth be otold, there may have been that one time where that could have happened, but she never got to know why. A few years ago, the neighbours suddenly went to Wyndon for a week, taking Hop with them, and Mum just kept saying that things would be back to normal soon. She didn’t lie, but the sketchiness of it all makes her suspicious… It doesn’t help that, that year, the Gym Challenge finals got postponed.

Still, there’s something inside of her that just knows something’s gone terribly wrong. She can’t exactly pinpoint how, or why, or if it’s even possible that such a feeling could be right. All she knows is that she’s having an awful impression of it all and that her heart is beating in overdrive. Winding out is not exactly the easiest thing to do when she’s stuck in a waiting room, having to choose between pacing indefinitely or sit on a chair and play around with her fingers or her phone.

She’s tempted to go outside to wait for the news to be given to her, absolutely; but she’s afraid that, if she does so, the doctors will have nobody to give it to if she’s still outside by then. That’d be underestimating how much she wants to see him, to know what exactly happened and how she, as a Champion and as a friend worthy of such name, can fix things. That’s part of her missions as Leon’s successor, right?

Set on staying here until someone gets out of the operation room, the bright red light of the “In Use” sign sitting over the doorframe whose direction she regularly glances at still shining over the daylight pouring through the windows, Gloria settles on studying her surroundings yet again. The walls are still white and pristine, with barely any spot or stain to be noticed. The floor is covered by a layer of grey linoleum, as boring to comment on as it’s functional. If she can guess such a room is regularly cleaned, she can also tell there’s been a couple stretchers that have wheeled through it to the operation room today already. The lines and stains left by these, unlike the walls, are still visible.

The room is empty and, aside from her unnerved breathing and impatient footsteps, silent. The soundproof walls make it so she can’t hear a thing, even if she puts her ear against the wall, morbidly curious, trying to keep herself from dipping into some seriously messed-up thoughts that have been trying to assault her mind ever since Hop started showing signs he wasn’t as fine as he’d have liked her to believe.

In a way, it’s funny that he’s doing exactly the same thing as his brother. They both said “I’m fine, don’t worry” at times where they knew they weren’t. Still, she doesn’t think that Hop did that on purpose, now that he’s tried freeing himself from Leon’s shadow. It’s more of a thing that she sees herself doing… As hypocritical as that may be, and as much as she dislikes knowing he purposefully lied to her thinking it’d be the right thing to do for her sake, she can understand it. She can understand it and that has to be why she hates it so much…

Gloria’s back hits the wall as she glides down to her feet, crouching with her forearms on her knees. Time’s too long and she’s getting nauseous from the anxiety that keeps piling in her throat and chest, heart throbbing. Trying not to cry is already a behemoth task in itself, so she focuses on that, only for her thoughts to change back to what could be happening and questions she can’t have an answer to.

She snaps back to reality when the red light turns off and the door finally opens, revealing a gurney getting wheeled to the other side of the room and a surgeon, still wearing his stained scrubs, walking up to her. She stands back up, rising herself on stiff and yet trembling legs, and lies back against the wall, gulping. Her mind rings and burns with a thousand questions; but her voice can’t catch up, not even a whisper exiting her mouth. The man gives her a tired, yet soft smile back:

“Your friend will be fine. Absolutely is the brother of the former Champion, his fighting spirit showed in the OR…”

She has to retain herself from hugging the man right in front of her and give him a waterfall of thanks. Instead, she remembers for a split second she’s the current Champion, shakes her head and keeps the waterworks from unfolding for a little while longer:

“Thank you so much, doctor.”

There is a silent horror seeping in her veins from being here. Everything about the room is eerie: the slow, somewhat regular beeps of a monitor; the oxygen mask sitting there, accompanying an otherwise soothing breath; the abnormal serenity of the air around her, the whiteness of a room that reminds her of the snow and the smell of antibiotics.

She remembers waiting in a lobby with Hop decorated like that in Hammerlocke, his hand clutching hers while he tried not to bit his thumb or cry in stress, the both of them tired and battered yet the lucky party of the fight against Eternatus. She remembers the horrified yet relieved look on his face as they discovered in what state his brother was. She remembers the words that got out of his mouth, how he found it so creepy to have Lee lying there, almost lifeless.

Surely there is some irony to be found about Hop now playing that role.

It hurts to be there, to see the time standing still yet again, as she waits for him to wake up. A part of her does like him to be resting after the nightmare he must have endured to end up like that. With the injuries he’s sustained, it’s only normal he doesn’t wake up immediately. She’s trying to combine that with the effect of sleeping gas, but as a girl who’s never had a surgery, it’s hard for her to estimate such a thing. She’s got to wait and…

“Gl…”

She’s about to drift off when she realizes Hop’s head is now turned towards her, the faintest smirk on his lips. He looks beyond tired, exhausted by the experience and the trauma of the surgery, pale all around, but he’s still here, safe. The light press she feels on her hands makes her realize she’s been holding his all along. That’d be embarrassing if she wasn’t trying to get her priorities straight.

“Hop, you’re awake!” That’s beyond obvious, what’s the point of saying aloud like that? Maybe it’s just from the sheer happiness of this being a fact…

“T-thanks…”

His voice is weak, low and raspy, barely more hearable than a whisper; quite the opposite of the roaring tone he’d usually speak in. Still, that’s his voice, that’s him being able to breathe yet again, and it’s more than enough for now. Of course, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t wish deeply for his recovery to happen soon; that’s just settling down for a sustainable goal for now. Better not rush things in, for she has a feeling that may have happened to her good old friend over here…

“How are you?” She asks, keeping her own voice down.

“Huh… Sore…?”

“Better than gone, I suppose.”

“…Yeah…”

Hop inhales deeply, wincing slightly when he does. A slow hand strokes the left side of his chest, trying to calm something down.

“A-again… Thanks for… y’know… saving me…”

“That was nothing. We have to look out for each other, don’t we?”

“Ha… Yeah…”

The mood sinks with his smile, dragging her heart with it.

“Sorry for… that…”

Gloria doesn’t reply immediately, letting a silence settle itself, uncomfortable and thick.

“You’re having problems breathing, right?”

He nods.

“No wonder you do, with what you got for yourself… How did you even go for that long with these injuries?”

“I wanted to… make sure my… team would be safe.”

“The good news is that they’re safe, now. Dubwool seemed really worried about you when I found you two!”

“He’s such a great ’on, right…?”

“He sure is.” She clears her throat. “Anyway. I meant to ask you to be easier on yourself from now on. It was really heart-breaking to see you like that struggling to even breathe.”

“Sorry for being such a klutz… Got hit by a Gallade… Slipped on some ice…”

“…and pierced your lung.”

He freezes.

“So, as I said: don’t do that again, okay? You deserve a lot more than dragging yourself like that, Hop.”

He looks aside.

“You… think?”

“Of course I do! What am I to you, a liar?”

He almost laughs until his pain catches back to him, causing the fit to immediately stops in its tracks.

“’t wasn’t what I meant…!”

“I guessed so.”

It’s to Gloria’s turn to look aside and feel something burn inside of her, scratching her chin with her finger.

“I meant to say, you’re amazing, Hop. I don’t want to see you go like you almost did. What’s a Champion without her rival?”

“Huh…”

“That’s right, not the same person! You matter very much to so many people! So, please, can you take care of yourself?”

Hop still doesn’t reply. He looks like he’s lost his words somewhere along the way.

“Not for anyone either. For yourself. I… I hope you’ll one day understand how important you are.”

She can understand she’s being confusing and emotional. Trying to pull strings together is harder than usual.

“I’ll try that, then…”

“Good.”

The two of them settle in a comfortable silence. She’ll have to ask him when he’s better what happened to him in case such a disaster is to happen again (which she really hopes it doesn’t). For now, he’ll recover, and she’ll be by his side as he does so. Too bad for her Battle Tower scores and public interventions, some things just matter more than clout and fighting experience.

You know, once she’s sure they’ll be safe and sound, she can tell what’s truly on her mind and heart. It seems like he still doesn’t have a clue as to what’s hiding under the rocks…

“Hop!!”

Busting through the door, not even waiting for a yes or a no, Leon enters the room his baby brother is stuck in. Soon, however, his intense concern turns into a sort of awkwardness and utter surprise when he realizes he’s facing his brother and his best friend sleeping against next each other, their hands fiddled together.

Before he can mellow out and smile at the sudden sight of safety and softness, Sonia’s voice comes from behind his shoulder.

“Let them sleep instead of screaming like that, you big idiot.”

He has to agree with her, so his shoulders untenses as he lets her enter and closes the door behind them.

#pokemon swsh #postwickshipping #hop pokemon #gloria pokemon #hop's dubwool #hurt comfort #emotional hurt comfort #Angst with a happy ending #injury #feels #bad things happen bingo #bthb 2 #broken bones

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misssunflowersandsangria · 4 years

Text

The Arrangement

Chapter 3: The Participants

Welcome back, my dear readers! Thank you for returning. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter!

Summary: The news was out.

It was in the early afternoon when Shikamaru and Temari made their way to his mom’s house. Temari had just given him a quick rundown of everything that he needed to do for the rituals and he was already tired. He had to bite his tongue to keep himself from complaining that women were just troublesome creatures. Once she explained the extent of the customs he understood why his mom needed to know. She and the clan had a role to play in all of this.

Yoshino looked up from tending the garden upon seeing the couple approach. “Temari? Oh, sweetheart welcome back. I wasn’t expecting you.” She greeted her with a hug.

Temari held onto the woman for just a moment longer. The same feeling of peace and comfort overcoming her, similar to the one that she felt when Shikamaru held her. She’d grown up without a mother and Yoshino over the years had grown to be that figure to her. She felt encouraged in that embrace.

After the war had ended and the dust settled Temari had remained in Konoha. This was to help Shikamaru and Yoshino with the memorial service for Shikaku and other members of the Nara clan. Their clan had suffered huge losses and she wanted to be there to help as much as she could. Yoshino had lost her husband and best friend in one fell swoop, but despite such a devastating loss, she came out of it as only a warrior could. She took on the mantle of clan head with a certain grace and dignity never allowing anyone to see her will waver. She simply worked through her pain knowing that the clan needed her to be their beacon, strong and sturdy. Her husband may have passed away but he’d left the clan in capable hands, hers and now their son’s.

“Shikamaru and I had something we needed to talk to you about.”

“Of course Dear, come inside I’ll make tea.” She linked her arm with Temari’s leading them into the house chattering along the way.

Once seated Yoshino began to nag her son annoyed that he hadn't let her know that Temari was back in the village and needed assurances that he was taking care of her.

“Mom, calm down. She’s here because of uhm well-“

Temari could tell that he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “We wanted to let you know that we are in a relationship. We kept it a secret because of everything with the war. Now that things have calmed down we wanted you to know.”

Yoshino just stared at them silently and they both felt dread creeping up their spines. It wasn’t easy to pull one over on her and the worry began to sink in that she knew that they were lying.

“I’m so happy for you two!” Amazingly she burst into joyful tears while hugging both of them.

“I knew it! I had a feeling! The Akimichis, Yamanakas and I had a bet about you two! You are perfect together.”

“Really? Why would you say that?” Why was everyone saying that?

“My Shikamaru here was so lazy about everything that wasn’t clouds or Shogi but that changed when he met you. You push him and inspire him to do more. Since that fight during the Chunnin exams, I felt like he’s been doing all he could to impress you. That’s no small feat. You bring out the best in each other. That’s what Shikaku saw too.”

Shikamaru felt his heart stop. “Dad?”

“Of course. Even Asuma mentioned it to us. We both saw how you two interacted and we heard you talk about her enough. Shikaku attended enough meetings with Temari and her brother to see just how smart and strong she was. He knew that you’d make a perfect match. We both hoped that one day you’d figure it out and finally be together.”

Surprising her Yoshino took Temari’s hand in hers, warm eyes meeting cool teal. “He saw a little bit of me in you Temari. Your relationship reminded him of us when we were younger. Shikaku knew that your smile would change Shikamaru’s heart.”

They sat there speechless neither of them knowing how to take the information. Temari couldn’t help but reach over to squeeze Shikamaru’s hand comfortingly hoping that he wasn’t spiraling. His fingers laced with hers as a silent thank you for grounding him.

“Do your brothers know?”

Temari was thankful for the change in topic. “That’s actually why I came. Due to my uh status in Suna, certain courting rituals need to be completed to legitimize our relationship. It’s also an opportunity for the people in Suna to meet my suitor as well as his clan.”

Yoshino’s mind began to race. “Oh of course! Anything that I and the Nara clan can do we will be happy to.” She relished the opportunity to demonstrate the strength and nobility of their clan.

Temari told her quickly about all the upcoming events and what she would need to prepare. Yoshino was entirely too excited about the trip to the desert and all the ceremonies. Wanting to prove that her son was worthy of their princess. She talked excitedly about different ideas and how she wanted to present their clan. It was impossible to hold back her excitement and the nagging had already begun. She was adamant that her son would present himself and their family well. Temari was glad that she was so invested and seemed genuinely happy, but she worried about Shikamaru who sat there next to her silent in thought.

They made the trek back home under heavy silence. Her Shika could never hide his emotions and she knew that the discussion about his father was weighing on his heart. She stopped to stare up at him, her hands against his chest, guilt resting heavily on her shoulders. “Shikamaru, you can back out now if you want. I know what she said about your dad was a lot to take. I won’t hold it against you if you didn’t want to go through with this.” Despite the possible consequences she’d never hurt him for her own sake.

He just shook his head before staring up at the sky. “No, I’m not backing out. My dad knew you, he was impressed with what he saw. He wouldn’t forgive me if I didn’t help you when you needed it most. I don’t run from challenges, not anymore.” She was surprised by the steely resolve in his eyes.

Temari nodded and a part of her was pleased to know that his father would have approved of a relationship between them.

He smiled softly at her brushing a stray blonde lock behind her ear. “Besides did you see how happy my mom was. She’s so excited to go to Suna, to be part of this. I won’t take that away from her.” It was the happiest he’d seen her since they lost Shikaku.

Temari couldn’t help but brush the traitorous tears that appeared in her eyes. This was all becoming so much bigger than her, bigger than them. She prayed that it didn’t all blow up in their faces.

With a grin, he just wiped the tears away. “Stop it now Crybaby, we’ve still got a lot of work to do.”

When they returned home he went to sit outside on the porch that overlooked the clan forest. She knew that he needed some time in silence to process the last 24 hours. So she busied herself by cleaning the house and cooking their dinner. It felt like the least she could do given everything that she’d asked of him. It was terribly domestic and she didn’t hate it entirely.

She found him outside looking up at the stars. The air heavy with the smell of smoke. She knew that it wasn't the best way to cope, but his mother had inadvertently brought up some buried feelings. “Shika? Dinners ready.” He nodded, getting up to follow her. Normally when she stayed there they would go out to eat. Ever so often they would cook together at home and he appreciated the effort.

“Thank you, Tem.” They began eating together, the heaviness of the afternoon finally lightening. This was familiar and it was comforting to engage in simple routines.

“What the hell! You’re dating? And you didn’t think to tell us first!” Temari and Shikamaru looked up startled seeing Ino storm into the house in dramatic fashion.

“Hi Shikamaru, hi Temari. Oo something smells good!” Chouji greeted them with a smile helping himself to dinner.

“So you found out?” Shikamaru just stared not the least bit surprised.

Ino sat down next to them to make herself a plate “Of course we did. Your mother is announcing it all over the village.”

“Of course she is.” They just shook their heads having expected this. It did help them from having to tell everyone.

“Well, I want to say that I was the first one to see it,” Ino announced proudly.

Temari looked at her amused. “And when was that?”

“When we fought that wind bitch with the swords! It was like being the third wheel!” They both remembered that fight vividly although not quite like how she did.

“I don’t know, I feel like it was the Chunnin exams. After that, he couldn’t stop talking about her.” Chouji added thoughtfully.

“Is that so?” Temari grinned at him and the pink that flooded Shikamaru’s cheeks.

“Trust me, it wasn’t all positive, anyway enough walking down memory lane.”

“Well, either way, we're happy for the both of you. It was about time that you admitted your feelings for each other.” Ino paused with a grin. “I also heard about those courting rituals.”

Shikamaru groaned rubbing at his tired eyes. “What a drag.”

They fell into easy conversation while eating. Ino and Chouji chiming in with their favorite ShikaTem moment. And Temari slipped into the familiarity and sweetness of it all. She hoped that Shikamaru knew how lucky he was, to grow up the way he did. With the parents he had and the friends he kept. She knew it was wrong, but it was easy to look at Yoshino as her mother and Ino and Chouji as her friends. Would this be what life would be like if they were together? Days filled with a nagging mom and overly intrusive friends? And why did that all seem so wonderful?

That night Shikamaru held onto Temari hoping her even breaths would lull him to sleep. She had been through a rough couple of days and he was thankful that at last, she had a moment of peace. Temari loved Suna so much and he knew that this was all to do what she had always done, protect and defend her village. It was a role that she enjoyed and one that she’d do anything to keep. Life in Suna had improved so much because of the work done by her and her brothers. They couldn’t allow anything to upset that peace. This was just like a game of Shogi and he was determined to outplay the Council.

He didn’t know what to think about his mother’s and apparently his father’s acceptance of their “relationship.” What did they see that he couldn’t? His father and Asuma had both been in relationships with powerful, headstrong, and unyielding kunoichi. Had they really seen him taking that same path with Temari? Was he destined for marriage with a troublesome woman?

He stared down at her, how she clutched so tightly to him even while asleep and a sense of protectiveness came over him. This was all shaping to be so much more complicated but he refused to abandon her now. They were going to see this through to the end, he wouldn’t let anyone take her freedom or power away from her. She kept the nightmares away from him, he would do the same for her.

He shifted to pull her closer into his chest, her arms tightening around him. He placed his head against hers the smell of the wind and rain wrapping around him as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Rest easy Princess, I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The Arrangement

Chapter 1: The Set-Up

Chapter 2: The Proposition

Chapter 3: The Participants

Ugh, they are too cute! Had to put Mama Yoshino in there and also Daddy Shikaku. I will continue to be mad that they killed him off unnecessarily! I think that he would have loved to have Temari as his daughter in law. Next chapter we are off to Suna! The next update might come a little slower, I have a pretty solid idea about where to go with it but I just want to make sure that I do it right. Thanks again for reading and all your wonderful support! Love you all!

#shikatema #shikatem #shikamaru x temari #princesstemari #fake dating #fanfic #yoshino #INOSHIKACHO

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armchairandroid · 4 years

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The Complete History of China (according to film) Part 2: “Sacrifice” and the Orphan of Zhao

Mission Statement

There are many films set in historical China and I am going to try to watch as many as I can, in chronological order, so that I can learn the complete history of China (at least, according to film).

Our Source

“Sacrifice” is a 2010 Chinese film by esteemed Chinese director Chen Kaige, inspired by a 13th-century play.

The story is one of family, revenge, and, yes, sacrifice. It revolves around an innocent man and a child whose lives are thrown into chaos by a power struggle beyond their control.

Setting

During the Spring and Autumn period (~7th-6th Century BC) in the State of Jin

The Story of the Zhao Clan

It is nearing the end of the 7th Century BC and the Zhao clan is the most powerful family in the state of Jin. Zhao Dun, head of the clan, serves as Grand Councillor to the Duke of Jin. His son is Zhao Shuo, the latest general in the Duke’s army. Zhao Shuo is also married to the Duke’s sister, Lady Zhuangji.

You know who isn’t happy about this? Tu’an Gu, who used to be the Duke’s favoured general. Now this new Zhao general is being given all of the important assignments, and he gets to marry the Duke’s sister! Old Tu’an Gu is getting left behind and forgotten. Worst of all, he isn’t getting any respect. For instance, the Duke, a childish prankster at heart, slings a rock at the Grand Councillor’s horse and makes it look like Tu’an Gu did it. Tu’an is forced to eat the rock as an apology. So, yeah, the Duke is a bit of a jerk.

Tu’an Gu, tired of the constant humiliation that his life has become, schemes to get rid of the Duke and the Zhao clan in one fell swoop. To accomplish his plan, he procures the services of the world’s smallest assassin. It’s a bug.

At a celebration of their recent victories, Zhao Dun presents the Duke with fine wine as a gift. As the Duke is taking a drink the bug is released. It stings the Duke on the back of the neck, killing him instantly. In the ensuing chaos, Tu’an Gu accuses Zhao Dun of poisoning the wine. Tu’an takes command and orders that the Zhao clan be wiped out. A battle begins in the palace, spilling out into the streets.

Meanwhile, Lady Zhuangji is about to give birth to Zhao Shuo’s son. She is completely unaware of what has occured. Her physician, Cheng Ying, happens to have a newborn son of his own. Cheng and his wife have yet to decide upon a name for their son. Zhuangji suggests ‘Bo.’

Outside, Zhao Dun is dead. Zhao Shuo is only mostly dead and just barely manages to crawl back to his home. He warns his wife of the soldiers who are going to be coming after them. With his dying breath, he tells her to run. Right on cue she goes into labour, on the floor, next to her dead husband. Cheng Ying delivers the child. He is a healthy baby boy.

By this time the Zhao home is surrounded by Tu’an’s soldiers. The child of Zhao Shuo is the one thing that can stand between Tu’an and the Jin throne. Tu’an doesn’t know if the child has been born yet, but if it has, he has no intention of letting it live. He sends one of his loyal soldiers, Han Jue, into the house to bring Zhuangji out.

Zhuangji places a pillow under her clothes to make it look as though she is still pregnant. Then, she kills herself. Her hope was that Tu’an’s men would think she died before giving birth, giving Cheng Ying time to sneak out of the house with the baby through the secret exit. Han Jue doesn’t fall for Zhunagji’s fake pregnancy, but he plays along so that he doesn’t have to kill the baby. By the time Tu’an makes his way in, Cheng is long gone. Tu’an gives Han a nasty scar across his face for letting the child escape.

Cheng Ying brings the baby back to his own home. Tu’an, knowing the baby is still somewhere in the city, sends his men to search all the homes for newborn babies.

***SPOILERS BELOW***

Plans are hatched, mistakes are made. There are mix-ups and unfortunate coincidences. The details are not important. What matters is that Tu’an ends up killing Cheng Ying’s newborn child by mistake, thinking it to be the Zhao child. Cheng’s wife attacks the guards in her grief and she, too, is killed. Cheng, having lost his own wife and child, chooses to raise the Zhao child as his own. The child is called Cheng Bo and is believed by all in the city to be Cheng Ying’s own flesh and blood. Tu’an becomes the ruler of Jin.

To show that there are no hard feelings between them, Cheng Ying allows Tu’uan to become the godfather of his ‘son,’ Bo. Wait, why would Ying want Bo to be the godson of Tu’an, of all people?

Well, it turns out that Ying didn’t adopt the Zhao child strictly out of the goodness of his heart. What he wants is revenge.

Han Jue, who has grown to be Ying’s friend and co-conspirator, wanted to just kill Tu’an. Ying, however, thinks that a simple death is too good for Tu’an. He wants Tu’an to experience heartache, just as Ying felt when his wife died. Only then does he want Tu’an to die. How does Ying hope to accomplish this? First, he will allow Tu’an to become Bo’s godfather. He will encourage them to spend time together and to grow close, until Tu’an starts to love Bo like a son. Tu’an will even teach Bo how to fight with a sword. Then, Ying will tell Bo the truth. How Bo’s true parents were killed because of Tu’an, and how Bo, too, would have been killed if it were not for the sacrifice of Ying’s own son. Finally, Tu’an will die at Bo’s hand.

Bo has a strange childhood. He has both a loving father and godfather, though he can tell that the two don’t get along. His father also grows to be very overprotective of him.

When Bo grows into a young man, Tu’an convinces him to join the army. Ying doesn’t approve, but Bo wants to go fight alongside his godfather. Finally, Ying tells Bo the truth about his past. Bo, however, doesn’t believe it. He thinks that his father made up the story to turn him against Tu’an.

Bo goes off to war. It looks like Cheng Ying’s plan has failed. Ying agrees to let Han kill their mutual enemy the old-fashioned way: with a poison arrow.

Meanwhile, Tu’an grows suspicious. He has noticed that Bo, in his armour, looks just like Zhao Shuo. During battle, Bo finds himself surrounded by enemy soldiers. Tu’an considers allowing Bo to die. Ultimately he can’t do it, and he rescues his godson. Bo, in turn, is given the chance to rescue his godfather’s life. When Tu’an is hit by Han’s arrow, Bo saves him using some of Ying’s medicine.

Once he recovers, Tu’an reveals his suspicions to Bo. He tells him that he may, in fact, be the Zhao orphan. Bo knows now that everything his father told him is true.

Tu’an summons Cheng Ying and Cheng Bo to come before him so that they can get everything out in the open. Tu’an owes Bo his life, and he has no intention of harming him or Cheng Ying. Instead, he will allow them to flee Jin. Bo, however, does the unexpected by raising his sword against his godfather, Tu’an. He has decided that he will avenge Ying’s son.

As Bo and Tu’an fight, Ying has second thoughts. After all this time vengeance may finally be his. Everything is going according to plan. Ying, however, finds that he is worried about Bo. He wants Bo to live more than he wants Tu’an to die. He comes between them, trying to stop the fight, only to get impaled by Tu’an’s sword. Tu’an, it seems, has decided that peace is no longer an option. Bo, in turn, stabs Tu’an through the heart. Tu’an dies quickly.

In his dying moments, Cheng Ying sees his revenge come to fruition. It finally happened, after he no longer needed it to, and it only cost him his life.

The film ends with Ying’s death. We don’t get to find out what happens to Bo. I would assume, with Han Jue still around to confirm his parentage, that Bo will reclaim his birthright as a member of the Zhao clan, and, possibly, as ruler of Jin.

Historical Significance

From this film we learn of the Zhao clan, an important family in Jin that seems like they may have wielded even more power than the childish Duke whom they served. We learn also of a general whose personal vendetta took down the Duke and wiped out most of the Zhao clan. Lastly, we learn of the Zhao orphan, raised in secret only to overthrow the general and take back his birthright as an adult.

This film is my first exposure to the “Spring and Autumn period in Chinese history. It seems like a fairly contentious time. Power struggles, political intrigue, assassination, and war seem commonplace. Not at all like the Shang Dynasty, which was said to be pretty peaceful until King Zhou mucked things up. Of course, I’m sure the peaceful times in history don’t tend to have movies made about them.

The Film

This is the first film I’ve seen from director Chen Kaige, who is clearly a great visual storyteller. Occasionally I found the film to be stylized to a fault. For instance, during the battle in the palace there were a couple of soldiers working for the Zhao who were given cool action moments, including a couple of slow motion shots. This made me assume that these characters were important, but then they died before even being given names. In instances like that, I would say that style gets in the way of narrative focus. The cool shots, which draw attention to themselves, should be used for the more important moments in the narrative. Overall, though, I found the movie to be very well made and it succeeded in getting me invested in the story.

Incidentally, the previous film I looked at was also centered around an elaborate revenge plot. Just how much of Chinese history is based on revenge? I guess I’ll find out.

#film #cinema #chinese film #chen kaige #history #spring and autumn period #history of china #according to film #sacrifice #the orphan of zhao

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fullmetalscullyy · 5 years

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through despair and hope

summary: “If you’re going to kill me, kill me,” she hissed, glaring up at the person pinning her to the ground. “Riza?” a voice asked incredulously. She froze in place, the sound of the voice calling her back to a time in her past. It tugged at a memory in her mind, almost recognising it.

rated: m | words: 7587

read on ao3 and ffnet

so, this idea came to me while listening to the lion king soundtrack (i see you “can you feel the love tonight”) and i thought person a thinking person b is dead?? for years?? only to find out they’re still alive?? hell yeah

so welcome to my royai (loosely based on) lion king au

Five years ago, Riza Hawkeye lost her best friend to the men she was stalking right now. Crouched low on the dirt track, she hid behind a tree, waiting to see which way they would turn next. Riza scowled as their laughter reached her. How can they act so carefree and happy when they’ve hurt so many people?

The estate was quiet tonight. The patrols were the same frequency, but their gaits were slower and more relaxed. It was like they knew they were untouchable. They often captured and sometimes killed anyone they found out wandering at night, so Riza wasn’t surprised they were feeling quite lax. Anyone living on the estate knew to keep their head down and stay out of the officer’s way to avoid trouble.

Anger burned in her chest at the thought of King Bradley. He’d started all of this. He’d taken away everyone important in Riza’s life, stripped them from her easily with no remorse. First, her mother in an “accident”. She was ill, Bradley had said, voice devastated as he emerged from her bedroom. So very ill. There was nothing he could do. Then, her father. Another accident. They’d been out riding together with her father’s apprentice and he’d been thrown from his horse. Her best friend didn’t return that night either. Bradley had though, distraught and shouting for help, begging anyone and everyone who was available to send help to the gorge.

Her father’s body had been there, but Roy’s hadn’t.

“Riza?” Chris Mustang called to her urgently. She froze in her tracks, pivoting on the balls of her feet to turn and face the woman. Chris had been dubbed the leader of their little resistance and was the previous owner of the estate they were confined to.

Before King Bradley had swooped in and tactically taken out everyone who could oppose him, she’d run this place effortlessly with the help of her mother. Riza’s father had been employed as a chemical scientist after marrying her mother. He’d studied the chemical properties that went into the alcohol Chris produced, along with deciding what would work and what wouldn’t. Chris’ son had been employed as his apprentice shortly after taking an interest in his work.

Despite removing her mother, father, and Chris’ son from the equation, Riza was still unsure why Bradley kept Chris alive. However, as she grew older, it wasn’t hard to figure out why. Bradley had fawned over her, trying to get her to submit to him, but Chris Mustang was formidable and fought him on every front, never once succumbing to his twisted wishes.

Riza admired Chris and looked up to her so much. Her strength had gotten Riza through the toughest of times – when they were being starved because Bradley forbid the staff to deliver meals to them after Chris swatted away his advances, or during the cold winter nights in the crumbling house they were confined to, when Chris would tell them stories of how great her estate had been before Bradley had tainted it with his destructive army. She would describe how her garden would be so beautiful in summer, the blooms lighting up everyone’s lives. The vegetable garden would be swollen with food, able to provide fresh greens for every meal for every member of the staff. Her business was so lucrative and successful that people from all around the country would come to the estate for tours of her brewery.

Now that had all turned ash, thanks to Bradley. His army had stripped it bare, taking what they wanted so that it withered and died without the proper care. As long as their bellies were full, they didn’t care.

“Where are you going?” Chris asked, voice hard, as if daring her to take another step.

“I can’t just sit around and accept this life anymore,” Riza replied, taking another glance at the men about a hundred metres from her. “I’m going to find help.”

“You will do no such thing, child,” she ordered. “I already lost a son to that man. I won’t lose a daughter too.”

Riza cringed. It was no secret Chris saw her as one of her own. But she couldn’t submit and accept this anymore. She had to fight for those who couldn’t. She had to for Chris, who had taken her in and shielded her from Bradley’s sick advances instead of kicking her out now that she was an orphan.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t.”

“Did you hear that old man squeal yesterday?” one of the men suddenly stated loudly, followed by echoing laughter. Riza froze, head craning around to look at them. There was only one old man on the estate. Her stomach dropped. So that’s where he’d gotten the bruise on his wrists from. Her grandfather had neglected to reveal to them where they’d come from.

“Yeah,” another piped up. “Wouldn’t stop fucking yelling about how we better not touch the girl.”

“These fuckin’ people man,�� another laughed like what was left of Riza’s family’s situation was the funniest damn thing in the world. “Ought to have killed them all years ago. But the boss has a soft spot for that old hag and the kid.”

Riza bristled, then jumped when she found Chris was right next to her.

“Go,” Chris urged her, gaze hard as she stared straight ahead. “If it comes to it, give them hell.”

She nodded and slipped into what remained of the wheat fields. Like everything else, thanks to Bradley’s men, they were barren and dead. Picking up speed, Riza broke out into a sprint and ran as fast as her legs would carry her, away from the estate for the first time in five years.

* * *

She’d rode for four days before she came across a small town. Her hopes were dashed as she walked through it, guiding her horse, only to find it abandoned. A disturbance to her right had caught her attention. When she saw the blues of Bradley’s army, she mounted and took off north, pushing her horse as she was pursued by the men who had helped kill her family.

Now, on day five, she’d found herself in the northern forests, where occasional patches of the ground were dusted in snow. The precipitation that managed to make it through the thick canopy above her was disturbed as the horse walked through, tired after another day of riding. Vowing to stop soon, Riza stroked her horse’s neck and promised they’d rest in a while.

She froze when there was a quiet rustle to her right. Above her. Remaining still, she flicked her eyes upwards and into the trees, but it was too dark to see anything. A figure dropped as if from nowhere, a foot aimed for her head. Jerking the reigns, Riza directed the horse away, leaning to the side as an arrow flew past her left.

Riza flipped backwards off her horse and landed effortlessly in a crouch, springing up to launch a counterattack on the person who had just tried to kill her. If they were part of Bradley’s forces, then she would have no issue with cutting them down.

They parried her strike and she sidestepped right. Dropping low again, she swept her leg underneath their feet, but they dodged, jumping back a few feet. Charging forward, Riza flicked her knife so it ran down the length of her forearm and angled it for the person’s throat. Again, they dodged and ducked underneath her arm, landing a punch to her kidneys. Riza grunted but didn’t let it stop her. There was five years-worth of anger and hatred lying inside her. She wouldn’t let something like that beat her.

As the person thrust towards her throat, Riza grasped their arm and yanked it, pulling their body close to hers. The person grunted and stumbled, their weight a lot heavier than Riza would have expected. Before she could plant a secure base, she begun to fall backwards, hitting the ground painfully with her opponent’s body almost crushing hers. Her hood fell backwards, exposing her face to the night air and she snarled. Beginning to struggle underneath the knee on her chest, she noted the person was frozen in place, staring down at her. The night was too dark, the canopy covering too much of the sky to let the moonlight through, for Riza to see her opponent’s face. The hood covering their face shrouded the face in shadow.

“If you’re going to kill me, kill me,” she hissed, glaring up at the person pinning her to the ground.

“Riza?” a voice asked incredulously.

She froze in place, the sound of the voice calling her back to a time in her past. It tugged at a memory in her mind, almost recognising it.

The person backed up, scrambling off her body and Riza instantly sat up, still on her guard. She didn’t know why the person who was trying to kill her knew her name. Riza didn’t particularly want to know. She just wanted to get out of here –

A hand was placed on top of the person’s hood, swiping it back hurriedly. It revealed a face that Riza thought she’d never see again. Long, black locks covered the shocked face underneath the hood. Wide eyes with black irises stared at her, a mouth opening and closing helplessly as the two people stared at each other in disbelief.

“Roy?” Riza whispered, not daring to believe for a second this wasn’t a dream. This was too good to be true. This was a dream, she just needed to wake up.

Arms encircled her body as Roy surged forwards, hugging her tightly to her body. Instinctively, Riza’s arms returned the gesture, hugging him fiercely.

“Oh my god,” he whispered in disbelief, a shocked laugh escaping him. A hand was placed on the back of her head, cradling it against his body. Riza felt her eyes fill with tears. She couldn’t believe it… He was alive…

“I thought you were dead,” she admitted, her emotions overtaking her body, causing to shake uncontrollably.

“I thought you were too,” he whispered, readjusting his grip on her to hold her tighter. “I can’t believe it.”

Riza pulled back, unable to resist cradling his face in her hands. She brushed the hair out of his face. It was so much longer than before. It now fell over his forehead, brushing past his eyebrows and catching his eyelashes. He looked older now than he had been before. He’d lost some weight, his cheekbones becoming more pronounced. Gone were the “chubby cheeks” she used to tease him as a child.

“You’re here,” she whispered, face scrunching up slightly as more tears threatened to fall.

Roy nodded, tears filling his own eyes. “I’m here,” he confirmed.

They found each other’s embrace again. Roy stroked her short hair – she’d cut it shortly after her family had died – running his hands through her short locks.

“I like this look,” he murmured into her hair. “You suit short hair.”

Riza let out a choked laugh, sniffing and pulling away to look up at him. She wiped her cheeks free of tears and took him in once more.

“What happened?” she asked quietly. “We all thought you died.”

“I… I got out. Bradley tried to kill me, but I escaped.” His gaze turned away from her, avoiding it. Riza pulled away to get a better look at him, and Roy’s arms loosened, letting her go free.

“What happened that day?” Riza asked quietly. It was something she’d wondered about for the past five years. “And why didn’t you come back?”

Roy flinched at her question.

“Why not take back what’s rightfully yours from the man who stole it from you?”

“I thought you were all dead,” Roy whispered. “I couldn’t return to a place like that. Not with everyone gone.”

“Come back with me, then,” she pleaded. “We can do it together. Roy, your mother is still alive.” His gaze snapped up to hers. “So is my grandfather. Every day is a fight, but we’re surviving. We’re holding on in the hopes that you’d survived. Plus,” she smiled fondly. “Your mother is not one to give up without a fight.”

“She’s alive?” he whispered in disbelief.

Riza nodded. “Yes. She is. But… Look,” she began. “Bradley has taken over her estate. He’s destroying not only everything she built there – that we all built – but also the land. He’s killing it, taking and taking and taking with no regard for anyone living in it. The place is on lockdown and it has been since they day he took over. People are being killed Roy. It’s only a matter of time before we are too.”

Riza had made peace with that thought only recently, but finding Roy again, alive, rekindled hope inside her and shoved that thought out of her mind.

“How did you get out then, if people are being killed?” he asked suddenly, as if doubting her words. That stung a little.

“I snuck out to come and find help,” she told him. “I want to help you mother and free her and my grandfather from Bradley’s influence. We need to stop him.”

“I can’t.”

“What?” she asked incredulously. That answer was unexpected.

“I can’t go back,” he stated.

“Why not?” she cried. This was ridiculous, of course he could go back. His mother will be thrilled to know he was alive. “You won’t help me? Won’t help us? Why not?”

“Because I can’t go back there!” he barked, nostrils flaring as he glared at her for pushing him further than he wanted to go.

“Is everything okay, Roy?” a female voice asked, appearing on his right. She placed a hand on his shoulder, eyeing Riza suspiciously.

Her gaze flicked to the woman and back to Roy, suddenly realising what was going on. That’s why he wouldn’t leave, wouldn’t come back, even though his mother’s life depended on it? Even though her life depended on it?

He’d made a life out here and didn’t want to leave it behind.

Riza swallowed, suddenly feeling very foolish after her affections, but a spike of anger overrode that.

“Everything is fine, Becca,” he reassured her, turning to face her, giving the woman a small smile.

Ouch.

“You know,” Riza stated, voice sombre as she took a step back, putting distance between them. Roy watched her, his brow furrowing. “I used to know a boy who would do anything for his family and for those he cared about.” Her eyes met his, challenging him. “Who would stick up for those who couldn’t do it themselves. It turns out that’s no longer the case.”

“Riza?” Roy asked, tone confused.

“Goodbye, Roy,” she bid him, tone sour as she narrowed her eyes at the man she’d once loved. It appears the five years had changed his priorities, and his mother and friends no longer mattered to him. “I will tell your mother you’re alive and well,” she added bitterly.

“Riza, wait,” he grabbed her wrist and Riza jerked it free angrily, turning in place to meet his furrowed brow with eyes beginning to fill with unshed tears. “I didn’t mean to snap. I do care, I really do, but –”

“Not enough to come back to your home?”

“That’s unfair,” he replied in frustration.

“No, Roy,” she rounded on him. “What’s unfair was being forced to think my best friend was dead for five years. What’s unfair was having to watch your mother grieve for you, when all this time you’ve been alive.” He flinched at that one. “What’s unfair,” she growled, lifting a finger to point it at his chest. She had approached him slowly while she made her points, and now she was right in front of him. “Was having to live in fear that I might die, every day because of King Bradley, and not being able to do anything about it because we don’t have enough manpower.”

“Riza –” Roy choked out. His voice was thick with emotion.

“It was unfair for me to have to live in the shadow of the man who killed both my parents, and who I thought killed you too.” Her body had begun to shake uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face. She didn’t wipe them away. She didn’t try to hide them. Riza left them on show for Roy to see, because then he might truly understand just how awful these past few years had been for her. “If you won’t help me, help your mother, then I have nothing more to say to you.”

The woman behind Roy looked between them both, eyes narrowed, but Riza didn’t stay any longer to try and figure out what was happening. She didn’t care anymore. She felt too betrayed. Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe through her tears, finally letting loose everything she’d pent up over the past five years so she didn’t show Bradley any weakness.

Riza ignored Roy calling her name behind her. He’d made her choice, so Riza had nothing more to say to them. He “couldn’t” go back. Whether that was because he had a new life out here, Riza didn’t know. It might be because he simply didn’t care anymore. Riza would never have thought he was that kind of person, but apparently, she’d been wrong. Five years can change a person. Apparently, it can change them a lot.

Her horse had moseyed off into the trees while she’d fought and Riza mounted it in one swift motion, kicking it into a gallop. She didn’t want to turn around and see him again. She didn’t want to hear him calling her name.

Not after the things he’d said.

Riza sped off into the northern forests, her tears drying in the wind and her decisions solidifying like Roy’s had over the years.

It was time to move on and find some real help. Someone willing to help what was left of her family.

* * *

Riza tried to jerk herself free of the hold on her pinned arms, but it did nothing but jar her shoulder joints painfully. She winced and tried to keep up with the quick march Bradley’s men were moving with but it was difficult with her hands bound and pinned painfully behind her back.

“Move it,” the man hissed in her ear, shoving her forward. Of course, this made her stumble again and she turned her head to glare at him. It was a mistake because his arm reared back and he punched her in the face, making Riza see stars. She stumbled a third time, the man not pausing in his march while Riza tried to get her bearings back. Her cheek was in agony, the pain radiating right through her head.

“What is this?” she heard Chris demand from somewhere in front of her. Her head was still spinning so Riza could only see different coloured shapes in front of her.

“One of you managed to escape,” the man holding her growled. He shoved Riza forward, letting go. She stumbled again, her head still fuzzy, and fell to her knees on the ground. Her arms were still pinned behind her, so with no way to catch herself, and no depth perception, Riza’s face hit the ground painfully.

“Riza!” Chris shouted. There was the sound of footsteps then gentle hands eased her up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Are you all right?” Her usually gruff voice was surprisingly gentle. Riza blinked a few times, still trying to clear her vision. It swam before eventually settling on Chris’ worried face. Riza nodded, relaxing in Chris’ arms for the first time in the last twelve hours.

She’d been found about half a day after leaving him, Bradley’s forces too large for her to overcome. Riza had surrendered in exchange for her life, but she knew her punishment would be severe upon returning to Bradley.

The others who’d escaped – or tried to – and were caught, had never been seen again.

“What did they do to you?” Chris asked, voice accusing as she turned her gaze towards Bradley’s men.

“Brought her home,” the one who’d been escorting her replied, offering nothing more. “Bradley will see to her within the hour.”

“You tell him to stay the fuck away,” Chris snarled. Riza noticed the grip around her shoulders tightened.

The man shook his head while the others snickered amongst themselves. Riza was about to surge upwards and kill every last one of them for mocking Chris, but she was restrained gently, a hand squeezing her shoulder as a warning. “That won’t happen. Get her cleaned up.”

Chris scoffed at the men, then turned her uncharacteristically worried gaze back down to Riza. She helped Riza to her feet, steadying her as she swayed. Her hands were quickly released from their restraints and Riza sighed in relief then hissed in pain as she moved her arms. Blood rushed through the limbs, the sensation painful after being rendered immobile and at an awkward angle for so long.

“Come on,” Chris beckoned, keeping her arms around Riza as she guided her back inside the house. They swept passed the guards at the front door angrily, Chris ushering her upstairs and into Riza’s bedroom. Chris pressed Riza onto her bed before turning back to go and lock the door.

“What happened?” Chris asked as soon as she took a seat by Riza’s bedside. She angled Riza’s head upwards so her sore cheek could face the light. It continued to throb and every time she blinked it was painful. Chris tutted at the sight of it.

“They punched me in the face when we got back,” Riza muttered, spitting the blood in her mouth out into the empty teacup Chris offered her. “And before, after they found me.”

“Where?” Chris asked. Her voice was clipped, but it wasn’t directed at Riza.

She turned in place, wincing as she lifted her arms. Slowly, Riza painfully lifted the back of her shirt to show where she’d been beaten before by Bradley’s men. Chris huffed as she saw the bruises that had probably already formed on her back and abdomen.

“Stay here. I’ll get some ice.” Without another word, she was gone from the room. Riza lowered her shirt and lay down on her bed, whimpering when even the soft mattress made her injuries flare up in pain. Once somewhat comfortable, Riza closed her eyes, a tear escaping from her eye.

She felt hopeless.

Riza had left to find help, and found something wonderful instead, only for it to crumble into ash in front of her. A part of her didn’t want to tell Chris what she’d found but knew that it was the opposite of what she would want. Plus, she deserved to know her son was alive.

Watching the normally hard and stoic Chris grieve for her son had been harrowing. She had a right to know he was alive… But Riza knew she wouldn’t like what he’d become. Her chest still hurt when she thought about it.

Chris slipped back through the door with an extremely worried looking Walter behind her. As her grandfather rushed to her side, Chris locked the door behind them, approaching with two bags of ice.

“Riza? Are you all right?” Walter asked worriedly.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Honestly. They just got a few lucky punches in.”

“What were you thinking? Going out there without help?” he cried.

“Walter,” Chris warned him. “Keep your voice down.”

“I went to get help.”

Chris placed a bag of ice on Riza’s face, who hissed at the shock of the cold. “And did you find it?” Chris asked before Walter could reply.

Riza froze. Now the moment was here, there was a lump in her throat. She couldn’t get the words out. She couldn’t tell them what she’d saw. If she did, it would make it real.

“I –”

The door to her bedroom was kicked open. Bradley strode inside, face like thunder, with two men behind him.

“You tried to escape?” he seethed.

“I did escape,” Riza bit back defiantly, despite her stomach tightening and dread consuming her whole entire being.

This was it.

But she sure as shit wasn’t going down without a fight. For too long this bastard had been terrorising her. She always let Bradley know how she really felt about him and that wasn’t about to stop now.

“Your men were slacking, and I managed to break free.” Riza challenged him with her stare, watching as his face turned red in anger.

“Restrain her,” he stated, his voice deathly calm.

Although she knew it was coming, her body still tensed and fought against the men grabbing her limbs. They roughly pulled her up off the bed, hurting her still recovering arms further. She hissed in pain and glared at the men, trying to wrench herself free even though it hurt like hell.

Walter protested loudly from beside her, reaching to grab at one of the men. Riza begged him to stop, but of course, the man wasn’t going to let his only granddaughter be walked out the room to her death. Riza was glad he was still with her. He’d been overprotective and almost smothering over the years, but Riza had put up with it without complaint because she knew he meant well. She knew how awful it was to lose family members. They were all each other had left.

Chris argued loudly with Bradley, who did nothing but meet Riza’s unflinching glare, which she shot his way once she knew Walter was safe and unharmed. But Chris’ shouts fell on deaf ears and Riza was escorted from the room with Bradley close behind her.

“Take her to the centre of the courtyard,” he barked as they exited the main doors to the estate house. “Time to make an example of you, Miss Hawkeye,” he growled in her ear.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

Bradley snarled and brushed past his men, causing Riza to stumble in their grasp. One arm was free, and she took the opportunity to tear the other free too. Unsheathing a knife, she rushed at Bradley’s back, arm poised to stab it.

For the tiniest second, hope swelled in her chest. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, spurring her on. There was a flash in her mind – a possibility of what their life could be like if she succeeded in taking Bradley down right now.

She’d thought it through before, many times. Especially when she was younger, during the first year of Bradley’s siege. At night she would dream of times gone by, thinking about the lovely vegetable gardens that were always ripe with food, the wheat fields that swayed in the breeze where she’d played hide and seek with Roy, and the faint smell of alcohol that would fill the estate grounds as Chris’ business became more lucrative.

Most of that became a possibility again as her blade closed the distance towards Bradley’s back.

Only to turn into grey ash as he whipped around, grabbing her throat and clamping down hard. Riza’s hand flailed in shock. The knife clattered to the stone loudly, piercing the silent scene.

“Bradley!” Chris barked angrily. “Stop this!”

“Get your hands off of her!” Walter shouted.

The pressure increased and Riza tried to gasp for more air.

“Stop!” someone shouted, their voice carrying over the courtyard.

Riza felt herself being moved. Her throat was still being crushed by Bradley’s hand so her feet couldn’t get purchase on the ground. All her brainpower was focussed on trying to breathe, not trying to stand. Riza slipped and the pressure on her neck increased.

Something whizzed past her head and suddenly the pressure was gone.

Choking and heaving for breath, Riza collapsed onto the ground. Her hacking coughs were drowned out by Bradley’s men’s shouts.

“Riza!” Walter shouted. There were footsteps approaching her hurriedly. Riza threw her hand out to stop him, her battered throat unable to get any words out. Her eyes were wide and pleading with her grandfather to stay back when she saw one of Bradley’s men step in to intercept him. In a swift movement, Walter whipped a hidden blade out from underneath his jacket and begun to fight back, the element of surprise allowing him to best the man quickly. Then another came. And another. Riza watched in awe as her grandfather easily bested Bradley’s army, one man after the other.

Sitting up, Riza held her throat as she frantically searched the area. Walter was accounted for, but where was Chris?

“Are you okay?” someone asked from behind her. Riza jumped in fright, spinning around. Her abdomen and backed protested as the injured muscles moved, but that was completely forgotten about when she saw Roy behind her. His eyes were concerned, his expression one of worry. He didn’t shy away from her gaze. Roy met it head on, awaiting her answer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“You came back?” she whispered.

Roy nodded, a soft smile gracing his face. “Of course.” The hand on her shoulder gave it a quick squeeze. “Sorry if it seemed I wasn’t going to. I… I worked through some things and realised how stupid I was being. I’m sorry for hurting you,” he added, eyes earnest.

“It’s…”

“Mustang! Now is not the time!” the woman from before shouted from behind him. She was currently fighting off one of Bradley’s men, her sword piercing through his abdomen brutally. With a grunt, she ripped it free and found her next victim. As Riza recovered from her shock, the sounds of fighting finally reached her.

There was a large group of people clad in black and brown leathers fighting against Bradley’s blue army. Riza noticed it was the same way Roy dressed. Had he… Had he brought these people to help them?

“I promise, I will explain everything after this.” His tone was solemn and Riza found herself nodding. Taking his offered hand, Riza hopped to her feet and unsheathed a knife from her belt.

Jumping into the fray was easier than Riza thought it would. There was five years of unrestrained anger and pain raging inside of her and what better way to channel it than to take it out on the men who had terrorised her and her family, making them suffer for their own amusement. She cut down solider after soldier, making her way into the centre of the courtyard where Bradley was fighting off the men and woman Roy had arrived with.

“Stop this!” Bradley bellowed, causing everyone to slow to a stop. He stood facing Riza in the centre of the square. Roy was by her side, stance defensive and ready to launch into an attack. “What is that murderer doing here?” he snarled, gaze pointed at Roy.

“What?” Riza asked in confusion.

“You would let a murderer back in here, Miss Hawkeye?” Bradley hissed.

“You’re the murderer here, Bradley!” she shouted angrily at him. “You killed my parents!” Riza felt her anger spike when he genuinely looked taken aback by her accusation.

“What?” he asked, flabbergasted.

“You heard me! You killed my parents!”

“I did no such thing, my dear. The person who killed your parents is standing right beside you. You should be careful standing there. He might try to kill you too!”

“Wha –” Riza asked in exasperation, turning to see who was beside her, only to discover Roy’s extremely pale face. Dread coiled in her stomach. “Roy?”

“He killed your parents, Miss Hawkeye, not me. Tell them, Mr. Mustang!”

Roy said nothing. He just continued to stare at Bradley looking extremely fearful.

“That’s why you didn’t want to come back,” Riza whispered, realising the truth while that familiar feeling of hurt creeped into her chest.

“No…” he whispered.

“Don’t lie to her boy!” Bradley interrupted.

Roy flinched. “No, I came to help. I always wanted to –!”

“You wanted to come back so you could try and kill the daughter too, didn’t you? Didn’t you?!”

“No!” Roy shouted. “No, nothing like that, I swear, Riza,” he replied, his eyes begging her to understand. “It was an accident,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to –”

“So, you admit to killing them?” Bradley demanded.

“It was an accident –” Roy stuttered.

“But you still did it! Accident or not, Miss Hawkeye’s parents are dead, and its by your hand. You killed her mother by making her overdose on her medicine. Then, you killed her father. You spooked his horse and it threw him, sending him to his death.” Bradley’s face turned into a sneer. “Then, you ran away, afraid of being caught after you completed your task!”

“NO!”

“Get him!” Bradley commanded his men, and they swarmed Roy.

Riza was frozen in front of them, watching as Roy desperately fought them off. She was stuck in the same place, one single thought rushing through her head.

Roy killed your parents.

There were too many for Roy. He managed to keep back a few but was quickly overcome. The men restrained him roughly, stretching his arms to the side and keeping him in place while they forced him to his knees, the joints hitting the ground painfully. Those who had arrived with Roy fought to get to him, but Bradley’s men formed a barrier around Riza, Roy, and Bradley.

Walter was calling to her, pleading for her to get away from them. Chris was silent, watching the whole exchange with a blank expression. Riza had kept and eye on her throughout the fight, but no one bothered her. She couldn’t fight and was unarmed, so no one from the opposition cast her a second glance.

Roy’s hair was pulled back roughly while another man put him in a headlock. Riza watched blankly as he was restrained completely. Roy’s eyes met hers, desperate and pleading, but she had nothing to give him.

Roy killed your parents.

“Finally,” Bradley sneered, approaching Roy slowly, like a lion stalking its prey. “This madness can stop.” He walked past Riza without a thought, as if forgetting she was even there. Riza didn’t even feel present. She was watching this whole scene apart from her body, unable to move, think, or feel. “Time to end this madness.”

“Riza,” Roy wheezed, pleading with her to just think about this. She felt like she had to stop Bradley… But she still couldn’t move.

“You managed to escape me that day, Mr. Mustang, but now, I have you. You will finally pay for your crimes. You murdered two innocent people.”

“I didn’t!” he cried as best he could, but it came out like a breath. The pressure on his windpipe was too great. The realisation tried to spur Riza into action, to do something to help him, but her body didn’t cooperate.

“Now, you’re a liar. You are guilty, Mr. Mustang. You killed them. I saw the evidence myself.”

The grip on Roy’s throat tightened and he whined in pain.

Something kicked in Riza’s mind.

Bradley gripped Roy’s hair, pulling is back roughly even further than it was. His throat was even more exposed now. Roy grunted.

Another kick in her mind. Her brain was stuttering, trying to start working again.

“Before you go,” Bradley added smugly. “I’ll let you in on a little secret. It’s only fitting you know the truth after all this time.” He leaned in close, but Roy’s eyes weren’t on Bradley.

They were on Riza.

“I killed the bitch’s parents,” Bradley whispered in Roy’s ear, but it sounded like he shouted it across the entire courtyard.

Time stopped around them in this circle. The fighting continued outside, men and women shouting to Roy, trying to break the barrier to get through to them, but to no avail. Riza felt a calm wash over her, but she couldn’t identify why. Her mouth moved by itself, independent of her brain as it uttered one single sentence.

“You killed my parents, Bradley?”

It seemed to echo across the courtyard. Riza didn’t know if she’d spoken it, whispered it, or screamed it. All she knew was that the fighting slowed outside of their bubble, Bradley’s own men looking in on the scene before them.

Riza’s fists clenched by her side as they begun to shake uncontrollably. Her whole body begun to follow suit. Before he’d spun around, Riza had two knives embedded in Bradley’s back. He gasped in pain, staggering to the side. Riza watched with a cold gaze as he stumbled before falling to his feet.

Movement from her right caught her eye. The man holding Roy in a headlock tightened his grip while another lifted a knife towards his throat. Roy’s eyes widened, finding hers instantly. He watched her with tear filled eyes, relief on his face, even as his body tensed in anticipation of the blow that would end his life.

His eyes had sought out hers so she was the last thing he would look at before he died.

Riza flicked her wrist and sent a throwing knife into the knife-wielder’s arm. He screamed in pain, dropping it. Another sliced through the chest of the man holding Roy in a headlock. Riza launched into an attack, ripping the other men off Roy and cutting her way through them all. The soldiers surrounding them looked at Bradley’s unmoving body on the ground, took one look at each other, then fled the courtyard. Riza tried to catch those she could, fuelled entirely by her anger and hatred from the last five years, but a few managed to escape. Roy’s men rounded up those who surrendered and the ones Riza captured.

The battle finally over, bowed at the waist, Riza placed her hands on her knees, bracing herself as she got her breath back.

Some time had passed since she’d killed Bradley. She had no idea how much though. When she looked up, she found Roy standing a few feet from her, just watching. Riza straightened and marched over, throwing her arms around her best friend’s neck.

Roy’s arms wrapped around her back, squeezing her tightly while he buried his face in the crook of her neck. Her bruises smarted on her back as Roy’s hands covered them, but she didn’t care. Not in this moment.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For everything.”

Riza hushed him, holding him even tighter as her tears begun to fall.

It was over.

Bradley was dead. His army was disbanded and gone.

Roy was alive and he was back.

“I thought I killed them,” he admitted, chest heaving underneath hers. “It was an accident,” he stuttered, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean it. I –”

“You didn’t kill them, Bradley did,” Riza reminded him.

“But I thought I did,” Roy stressed. “For five years I thought I’d murdered two people. I thought I’d killed your parents.”

For five years he had to carry that with him.

Riza lifted a hand to his neck, curling her fingers around it, the tips of her fingers slipping into his hair. “It’s all right. You didn’t. Remember that.”

“Roy?” Chris asked in wonder. Riza regrettably pulled away from him, but she wouldn’t keep Chris from this moment. However, one of Roy’s arms remained circled around her back, gripping her waist tightly.

“Mother?” he choked out.

Riza eased out of his grasp with a gentle smile, ushering him forward. Mother and son came together and begun to cry, finally reunited after thinking the other was dead for half a decade.

* * *

Riza stirred as the door to her bedroom opened quietly. She turned her head in her drowsiness, facing towards the sound on instinct before sighing. The muscles in her neck smarted as she moved, but not enough to restrain the movement too much. It still hurt like hell to talk, a day on from the fight with Bradley.

Her eyes opened to see Roy standing by the closed door, his eyes watching her sadly.

She hadn’t seen him since yesterday.

“Roy,” she greeted with a sigh. She still couldn’t believe he was alive. “What’s wrong?” she asked suddenly, noticing his pained look.

“I…”

“Come here,” she urged, voice still scratchy. She eased herself up in her bed, wincing as the pillows put pressure on the bruises on her back. He perched on the chair by her bedside, exhaling as he did so. He met her gaze again and Riza could see how haunted he looked.

His brow furrowed. “Your face…” he murmured, placing a hand gently over her injured cheek. It was swollen from when one of Bradley’s men had punched her yesterday.

Riza leaned into his touch. “I’m all right.”

“It doesn’t look all right,” Roy stated.

“You can thank Bradley’s men for that.” Roy flinched, dropping his gaze, head bowing slightly, and Riza felt dread coil in her stomach. “That wasn’t – I didn’t mean to –”

“I thought you were all dead,” Roy whispered. “Bradley told me I’d killed all of you. I’d been working with chemicals that morning – a procedure I’d done hundreds of times before – but a messenger approached, telling us there had been a chemical gas leak and everyone in the house was dead.” Roy swallowed, obviously still pained. Riza gripped his hand fiercely, reminding him that she was right there. Her chest was pained when she remembered he’d had to live with this guilt for five years. “Your father, so lost in his grief, wasn’t watching where he was going and was thrown from his horse. Bradley told me it was my fault Berthold was dead. I’d caused it. He told me to run, far away, and never to come back. Not unless I wanted to be found out.

“The reason I ran –” he huffed a laugh, wiping tears away from his eyes. Riza squeezed his hand again, but said nothing, allowing Roy to let it all out. It was obviously much needed. “I was such a coward. The reason I ran was because I couldn’t face what I’d done to my family, to my mother, to you.” When he lifted his head, his eyes were shining with tears. “I thought I’d killed my mother and the woman I loved. I had already killed your parents. How could I return when you asked me to, after finding me?” he whispered.

Riza’s heart thudded in her chest.

“I exiled myself and was found by the people of the forest villages. Their society was tough, their way of life hard, but it was what I needed after what I thought I’d done. It took my mind off everything. It was completely numb already, so it wasn’t hard.”

That’s where his friends had come from. He’d rounded them all up to come and help fight Bradley.

“Roy,” Riza whispered, crying with him. “I had no idea. Bradley told us my mother’s death was due to natural causes, that my father had died by accident. He lied, he killed them, but he never told us it was you.”

His head bowed. “I’m sorry… for not returning. I was so scared,” he admitted in a whisper. “So, scared of what I would face when I returned. Afraid of your reaction when you found out the truth, even if it was an accident.”

He had witnessed his worst fear come to life when Bradley had revealed Roy’s “secret”.

Of course, Riza had no idea.

“I couldn’t come back. Not after that. I didn’t deserve to. Then I heard you’d been captured by our scouts and I had to. I might not deserve you, Riza, but I wouldn’t let you die.”

Riza cupped his jaw, lifting his gaze so he was looking at her again, and not looking down at the bedsheet with a bowed head.

“You are not a murderer. You didn’t kill my parents. I don’t blame you for not coming back, especially after learning the truth. I understand that level of fear. But please, don’t beat yourself up about this. You were a victim of Bradley too. We all were.”

She drew his face to hers, bringing their lips together. Roy sighed quietly against her, bringing a hand to her neck, locking her in place gently.

“I forgive you,” she whispered after they broke apart. “One hundred percent. And I don’t blame you for anything.”

Roy lifted his forehead from leaning against hers, pressing a kiss to it, his face scrunching up in emotion. “Thank you, Riza. You’re too good to me,” he chuckled lightly.

She brushed the tears from his face, giving him a quick kiss. She moved over in the bed, inviting him in. Roy lay on top of her sheet, snaking an arm underneath her neck so Riza could rest her head on his shoulders. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head, Roy whispered for her to get some more rest. He promised he would be right there when she woke up. He vowed he wasn’t going anywhere.

Since finding him alive again, that’s all she’d ever wanted, even when her brain told her to banish that thought, that he’d betrayed her.

She just wanted her best friend and the man she loved by her side once again.

#royai #royai fic #royai fanfic #royai au #royai oneshot #emma writes

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riviae · 5 years

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@domusaeternitatis requested angsty hansa headcanons so i am here to deliver (but i also did sneak some fluffy hc’s in too!!):

Geralt:

geralt’s ability to use a crossbow in tw3 is due to training he received from milva in the books

he lost his headband during the stygga castle fight. & even after he regained his memories, he didn’t want to style his hair like that anymore... angouleme used to tease him about his headband/hair-style even tho she wore a headband too. it’s just another one of geralt’s old aches from the past that he tries to ignore.

the first night he crawled into his bed at corvo bianco (so pre-regis reunion), he had a dream that the hansa visited him. he saw milva & regis in the meadow, basking in the warm summer weather, a book between them as regis taught milva to read. milva looked confused at some points, but was earnestly trying & geralt saw a spark of excitement in her eyes when she was able to read an entire page in common speech. he saw angouleme petting one of the cats that made the estate its home--which turned into about 30 stray cats when she pulled out a few pieces of leftover fish from her rucksack, causing a general ruckus as she was so apt to do. he saw cahir sitting in the shade of the tree that overlooks geralt’s property. his hair was shorter, the scars from his incident with the hatchet peeking out from underneath his dark locks. he looked a bit older, perhaps even wiser as he watched the clouds float by. when he makes eye contact with the witcher, cahir gives a small smile. he even sees dandelion. between them there is a small wooden table and a few empty wine glasses. it looks like they’re in the middle of a game of gwent, which ends with dandelion forfeiting the match before he loses, opting to pull out his lute & sing. it’s a silly toussaint nursery rhyme, something geralt had heard children singing as they played in the fields, but soon, the gentle melody washes over the estate as everyone joins in--including geralt himself. when he later wakes to an empty house, a deep sense of melancholy burrows itself into his chest. a longing for something that could never be...

stress is the #1 trigger for his knee injury to flare up. despite the warm climate of toussaint otherwise helping with his general aches & pains, if he comes across a place where he & his hansa had visited before, it often sends him into a fit of sudden & blinding pain. on his worst days, he has to use a cane to get around.

Regis:

regis really did all the odd jobs as the barber-surgeon of the group. from haircuts to dressing wounds, regis also found himself mending clothing (with geralt’s help--as he too was able to assist in sewing holes shut or fixing busted chainmail). which suited regis just fine; he preferred domestic tasks over fighting, having seen enough bloodshed at the battle for the bridge. it wasn’t until stygga castle that he truly fought again

while he didn’t fight often, he did spar & train with the rest of the hansa (minus dandelion of course). given his agility, stamina, & regeneration, he acted as a great sparring partner. with milva, he stayed mostly in his smoke form, only reappearing for a few seconds to give her a chance to hit him w/ an arrow as they both ran through the forest to work on her accuracy & stamina. he often sparred with geralt & cahir at the same time, letting both swordsmen lunge at him. it helped them learn to fight & cooperate together as well as improved their general ability to communicate w/ others in the midst of battle. angouleme was more curious about regis’ vampiric powers than anything else, knowing full well that she was much more of a sneak-behind-someone’s-back-and-stab them kind of fighter--something that would be otherwise impossible when sparring with a higher vampire. instead, regis taught angouleme about different powers that higher vampires could possess & was the only one who saw regis’ bat form before stygga castle.

the first thing regis did upon regenerating enough that his mental faculties returned was to determine the fate of his friends. the ravens we see in the base-game are regis’ & upon hearing that, at the very least, geralt, yen, and ciri survived stygga castle (and that dandelion was still alive too), immense relief washed over him. it was only later that he let himself mourn--& he mourned in the most human way he knew: despite having abstained from alcohol before, he had a drink for each of his fallen comrades. alone, he spoke of his favorite memories of his friends. times that bonded them together, that made it so they were family. he reminisced for an entire night, voice growing hoarse as the sun rose & he gave his final farewell.

definitely a headcanon i’ve seen floating about, but during his period of regeneration, regis begins using his ravens more often; they become his eyes & ears in toussaint as he recovers since he can’t move around much at first. the ravens he is closest to he lovingly names after the hansa members who fell at stygga castle. perhaps even more bittersweet, but the 3 ravens (milva, cahir, and angouleme) become a family unit of sorts. while they still remain with their flock, the 3 corvids are the only ones that remain close to regis & are the first to answer his call. he always gives them extra chin scratches & fruit or grain. sometimes he even thinks he can see a spark of their personalities in the birds’ eyes. milva tends to lead the group & isn’t afraid of any of the other animals in the forest. angouleme is the most playful of the three, often pulling on the other 2 corvids’ tails or cawing loudly & repeatedly in a manner that reminds regis of laughter. cahir is generally quiet & brings up the rear of the trio, but when he senses danger, he’s the first to go swooping in, recklessly attacking whatever threatens them with his beak & claws.

Milva:

during their travels, milva & cahir were mostly in charge of hunting for food. while milva caught wild game, cahir fished. it became a ritual of sorts; milva would return first, then cahir. the rest of the hansa would then help prepare the food, often making soup or skewering the meat & roasting it on an open flame. despite the often meager rations split between 6 people, the food still tasted better than anything milva ate when she was alone.

milva was also the first to readily accept regis as a friend after his true nature was revealed. when she accidentally sliced her hand a few days after regis returned to the group, she didn’t even bat an eye when regis appeared before her, having smelled her injury. “well, vampire? am i gonna live?” she asked, holding her bleeding hand out expectantly while she pressed her other hand to her hip. it was a wound she could have easily cleaned herself, but she trusted regis enough to let him tend to the cut. one bandaged hand later, milva apologized for having recoiled the first time she saw his teeth. she squeezed his shoulder in apology--the first time she had initiated contact with him since he was revealed to be a vampire--and she rolled her eyes when she noticed regis’ hand hovering at her back. “tell anyone we hugged & it’ll be the last time you get to use that hand,” she said, no real malice in her voice as she pulled the vampire into a hug. she didn’t get to see the wide, fanged grin that regis gave in return.

as mentioned above, milva taught geralt how to better use a bow. along the way, she ended up teaching cahir, angouleme, & even dandelion too. geralt was the best at hitting far-away targets, but angouleme was downright dangerous in that she was enthused about using a bow. angouleme somehow convinced regis to let her try & land a trick-shot (an apple perched on the poor vampire’s head)... & to everyone’s surprise, she landed the shot with ease in front of the group. it was only later that milva noticed the absurd amount of holes in regis’ cape & he later confessed that he had secretly practiced with angouleme beforehand so she could make her trick-shot easily in front of everyone.

a few weeks after her miscarriage, milva woke from a frightening nightmare--but couldn’t remember anything about it except she knew she had seen an arrow flying through the air. it was still dark when she woke, but being unable to sleep, she carefully slipped out from her bedroll & went deep into the forest, far from where they had set up camp, & climbed the tallest tree she could find, going up until she reached the uppermost branch. staring up at the stars, she took a deep breath & screamed. all the emotion she had been holding in since the battle for the bridge poured out of her in a flurry of anguished screams & angry tears at the unfairness of the universe. she screamed into the dark until she no longer felt sad--only tired. that morning, she approached the group & chopped off her braid. it was time for a change. the group needed her just as badly as she needed them--the world had never been kind to her, but she’d be damned if she gave up now, not when there was still a child that could be saved.

Dandelion:

dandelion often acted as the comedic relief for the group--& he knew it. did he ham up some of his actions & words to rouse a chuckle or two from his friends? yes, but it was something dandelion chose to do. he wasn’t a fighter. he couldn’t brave the fray the same way everyone else could. he was a minstrel, a bard, a poet, & he vowed to use his talents to improve morale & bring some joy to the hansa as they traveled through treacherous lands to find ciri.

most nights he ended up playing his lute as the final embers of the campfire smoldered away. assuming he wasn’t drunk, he usually played until he was sure that everyone was asleep, though he could never quite tell if regis was truly asleep--or if the vampire even needed sleep at all. regardless, despite the selfish facade he often wore like a second skin, he did know the importance of a good night’s rest. & though he couldn’t stop the nightmares that his friends often woke from in the dead of night, he hoped his music could at least give them a few hours of blissful, dreamless sleep.

dandelion was completely prepared to sacrifice his life to save ciri. he owed geralt that much--the witcher having been both is best friend & one of the few people who saw past his exaggerated persona. he’d even saved dandelion’s life more times then he could count. so why did he remain in toussaint when everyone else traveled to stygga castle w/ geralt? simply because geralt asked him to. before leaving, they had one final private conversation where geralt asked dandelion to stay. to remain safe. he’d gone far enough, braved enough bloodshed to last him a lifetime. geralt knew it was likely no one in the hansa would survive the events at stygga castle & he wanted, at the very least, for dandelion, his oldest friend, to survive. to survive & tell their story, no matter how it all turned out.

when regis showed up at the Chameleon one night, looking as frantic & pale as a nightwraith, dandelion actually passed out in fear & shock. when he awoke & saw that regis was truly alive, whole, & still had all his memories, dandelion cried. it was the first time he had ever hugged the vampire, but he couldn’t help it; he had accepted the fact that only geralt had survived the events of stygga castle, but regis was here, looking a tad worse for wear, but as solid & corporeal as he had been before. once regis explained why he had come to visit, needing help to get geralt out of jail & out of what would likely be a death sentence, dandelion rose to the occasion. though regis had said his help was indispensable, something that definitely stroked his ego, dandelion had been prepared to face the duchess. prepared to finally make good on his vow that he’d die for geralt if he had to--but he didn’t need someone as keen & perceptive as regis realizing that dandelion could be brave, ‘lest he be asked to perform even more heroic deeds. furthermore, dandelion had plenty of practice hiding his true intentions/feelings since he had been working as a redanian spy for some time (even if his loyalties to political powers waned from time to time).

Cahir:

in a perfect world, one where destiny & war did not care to know his name, he’d have lived a simple life. he never would have had as much blood on his hands, never would have used a sword to cut down people in the first place. he would have been a fisherman, selling his wares at different ports while he traveled the seas, charting his way by the stars. he would be able to have a blissful, dreamless sleep, no longer confronted with prophetic dreams about an ashen-haired woman. his name would have been left unknown, no legacy to speak of, no longer associated with the White Wolf, but it would have been worth it, if such a peaceful universe existed.

cahir was surprised to learn that dandelion and geralt weren’t fans of fishing. “it’s a long tale better suited for another night,” dandelion would say, geralt grunting in agreement. it confused cahir, as he had never seen someone so skittish of fishing like dandelion was, but he didn’t pry, knowing better than to do something that could disrupt his already tumultuous relationship with geralt. instead, he found himself teaching angouleme to fish, who took to catching fish with her bare hands surprisingly well for someone of her stature. it was like fishing with a child, cahir noted, bc every time she caught a fish, she’d holler with glee... even if she caught something as small as a minnow.

cahir appreciated how readily milva trusted him--while geralt had still insisted on seeing him as an enemy, milva had offered a metaphorical olive branch. unbeknownst to her or the rest of the hansa, cahir always tried to keep sight of milva during battle, hoping to lend a hand when he could. it was after a few months of traveling together that cahir stopped keeping track of her, believing entirely in her near-supernatural archery skills... something he regretted moments before he died at stygga castle.

there are many times in the books where cahir is completely silent as the rest of the hansa banters. my interpretation? cahir, while being well-versed in common speech, & having the ability to speak it w/o too distinct of a nilfgaardian accent, still had some trouble understanding the group at times. regis already made translation difficult as he often said words that cahir had never heard before despite being trained in proper common speech, but then angouleme made it so much worse. her use of slang & weird phrases confused him beyond belief. so, when it got too confusing, cahir just pretended to follow the flow of conversation. sometimes he even just decided to take a nap if it got to be too confusing.

Angouleme:

angouleme wasn’t used to trusting people. in her life as a bandit, & even before that--when she was being raised by distant relatives who took every chance to let her know that they didn’t love her & then her hellish nightmare at the orphanage--no one had given her a reason to truly trust them. but geralt had. he asked for her freedom & allowed her to travel with him & join his hansa despite her past, despite how if they had met only weeks earlier, she would have tried to kill him without a second thought. so while she hadn’t trusted the rest of the group at first, she did trust geralt implicitly, which was enough. it was partly why she tried to raise the rest of the group’s hackles--wanting to see just how they would act towards her if she didn’t play nice. she was surprised to see that they still accepted her as a part of the hansa, even when she continued to purposefully annoy milva & regis.

after getting to know milva, angouleme immediately started to see her as an older sister. she had been an only child, but having spent time at an orphanage, she knew the merit of creating a family for yourself--a family you choose rather than one bound by blood. similarly, she genuinely saw regis as her uncle & was delighted whenever the vampire slipped in one of her sayings into his colloquial speech. he took extra time to teach her about higher vampires since she joined the hansa much later than the others & was kind enough to answer any of her questions about vampires, no matter how personal they were. as for milva, angouleme took to the archery lessons with exuberance because she wanted to both impress milva and also just enjoyed spending time w/ her. one time after a particularly fluid shot, angouleme got so excited that she squeezed milva into a tight hug w/o thinking. she was surprised to find milva return the hug with a similar intensity, stroking her hair. & if angouleme openly cried at knowing milva also saw her as family, at being given the sort of physical affection she didn’t realize she was craving, milva never mentioned it to the rest of the hansa.

in toussaint, angouleme became a cat magnet. she spent her extra coin on fish from the docks &, true to her family crest, she would hand out pieces of fish to the stray cats in the city. at the sound of her boots hitting the wooden docks, scores of cats would come racing to her in search of free food & affection. they were the hardest thing about toussaint to leave behind

before they made it to stygga castle, geralt pulled her aside to make sure angouleme really wanted to participate in the battle. he also tells her the truth about how he originally had mistaken her for ciri--but now trusts her & sees her as a member of the hansa from her merit & courage alone. “you’ve come with us far enough, angouleme. i don’t want you doing this just because you think you owe me. you don’t. you can walk away now. return to toussaint. live a happy & long life.” in response, angouleme flicked him off & stuck out her tongue. “no one’s ever forced me to do anything before & it’s too late for you to try & scare me off now. we’re comrades, remember? a hansa. family. besides, i’m not gonna die here; i’ve got a high-class brothel to open in beauclair, remember?” her words ring hollow when she collapses to the ground, bleeding out in ciri’s arms. she asks to be made a countess before she dies, a characteristic smirk still on her lips at the thought of finally having her royal bloodline acknowledged in some way.

#geralt of rivia #emiel regis #milva barring #dandelion #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #angouleme #angoulême #witcher headcanons #sorry this took so long!! i kinda.... went off on this post lol #// long post

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littlemisssquiggles · 5 years

Note

I was wondering; in your story idea when Salem’s forces take a number of Atlesian citizens hostage to use as leverage against Oscar, what sorts of people did you envision would be taken prisoner and what would become of them after Ruby and Oscar finally defeat Salem?

Hey Al.Well that Pinehead headcanon is actually one version of two Dark Domain Arc concepts I’ve shared before.One where Oscar is the only one taken prisoner by Salem and he becomes the Boyin the Lonely Tower as Salem imprisoned him in a similar fashion to how she waslocked away centuries ago and the second version is the one where both Ruby andOscar are the only ones taken prisoner by Salem and are forced to survive herdomain in the Land of Darkness in order to make it back to civilization wherethey’d hope to be reunited with their comrades who they last saw trying toescape the Fall of Atlas.

The one where Oscar becomes Salem’sprisoner is the only version where the Atlesians are captured along with him. Ifigured it’d be pretty interesting if Salem succeeded in capturing a fractionof Atlas’ populace when they were trying to flee Atlas before it fell from the sky.I figured it word appeal to the malicious side of Salem if she captured thoseinnocent people to be used as leverage to force Oscar, as Ozma’s incarnate tosubmit to her whims.

It’s also another way to provide anexample of just how little Salem cares for humanity while Ozma and by extension,his successors, do.

To have Salem threaten the lives of innocent men, women andchildren from a kingdom she destroyed, using them as collateral to force Oscar into submission which the young lad would willinglysubmit to for the sake of the people is an excellent way to show the differencebetween these two immortal beings’ mind-sets on humanity and the value of humanlife.

So to answer your question Al, Ipicture Salem capturing a mixed bag of Atlesian captives. I figured Salem to be the typeto honestly care very little for what type of class an individual is. That stuff mattersnaught to her to her victims because in her eyes, they’re all expendable in the game of fulfilling her selfish desires. Soeven if she were to capture someone who was originally of upper class in Atlas,like let’s say Jacques Schnee for example—it’s not like she’d give him oranyone else better treatment over others.

They’ll all be her slaves forced underthe same chains of bondage with their fickle lives in the hands of one poor youngboy forced to be their ‘king’ with his actions reflected upon them; be it good or bad. The idea Ihad is that during the Fall of Atlas, let’s say the Atlesian Army led by WinterSchnee rallied together to board as many fleeing Atlesians from both Atlas andMantle to take them to safety in another neighbouring kingdom.

Since the Kingdom was going to plummet andpossible decimate both Atlas and Mantle, at this point, the army could notdiscriminate. So you had ships piled with refugees from all walks oflife—Atlesian and Mantlese, upper class and lower, human and Faunus, huntsmenand civilian. And although the military were successfully in rescuing everyonebefore the devastation, that didn’t stop Salem from using her forces toimprison a good portion of the populace.

Like imagine the Atlesian armysuccessfully rescuing 100 airships holding over 1000 people only for Salemto swoop in and capture at least half of that. So while the one half managed toescape, the other half were taken to the dark lands.

I even have this idea of some of Weiss’family—like perhaps Whitley and her mother along with family members from her mother’s side—become prisoners of Salem. It’s a cool way to give Weiss anincentive to go on a life and death rescue mission to Salem’s Domain joining Ruby and theirteam.

The way I pictured this version of theDark Domain Arc is that Oscar and more than half the Atlesian populace becomevictims of Salem’s abduction during the Fall of Atlas. General Ironwood is outof commission, practically on his death bed since he sustained life-threateninginjuries during the Fall. PerhapsJames was trying to help/ protect Qrow Branwen during a fight before the two wereswarmed by a pack of winged Beringels who practically tore both man apart,particularly James (a nod to the Wizard of Oz where the Scarecrow and the TinMan were harmed when the flying monkeys came for Dorothy to take her to theWicked Witch).

With Ironwood down, the Atlas militarylook to Winter as his right hand to take charge in his place.

Basically my idea is that theFall left a big blow that affected everyone—it was even worse then whathappened in Vale. Speaking of Vale, I really like the idea of everyone fleeingfrom the Fallen Atlas and returning to Vale with what was left of the Atlesianpopulace. From Vale, not only do our heroes reunite with old allies (such as GlyndaGoodwitch, Professor Port and Dr. Oobleck) but they also plan their next bestcourse of action.

Like I have this theory where I believepart of Salem’s plan would be to use Atlas to spark a second Great War betweenthe kingdoms. Like I know it’s a stretch but…think about it:

Salem has kind of shaped Atlas to takethe fall for certain events. Like the Attack at the Vytal Festival and the Fallof Beacon, that could be misconstrued to look like an Attack from Atlas. Caroline Cordovin pointed at this during V6 when she made the acknowledgement that since the Vytal Festival, it’s cause the rest of Remnant to see Atlas in poor light.

Not to mention that the stunt that waspulled with Cordovin herself and the mechazord in Argus. That could be twisted to makea point that Atlas was planning to make their move on Mistral too since theirforces resides in one of their main cities.

And lastly, there’s Vacuo. With the wayhow Vacuo was brought up last season where, I think it was Watts who said thatif Ironwood comes to his senses, he could reach out to Vacuo. My guess is thatSalem is planning to pull some move that will probably paint Atlas at firingshots at Vacuo. That’s my hunch.

Atlas will be turned into a martyr to spark a Second Great War in Remnant. And upon Atlas falling, perhaps this might spark the unknown Leaders of Mistral to cease this as an opportunity to have Mistral rule over all four kingdoms since technically, Vale (the kingdom whose original leader first ended the first war) and Atlas (the most technologically advanced and military leading kingdom crumbled to the ground) are at their weakest.

For all we know, after Atlas falls, Mistral might want to take over. After all, wasn’t it not Mistral who sort of instigated the first Great War in a way? I’m just saying.

This is actually making me think ofsomething important—what if…Salem is the least of our heroes’ worries. What if...the big final battle would be during a Second Great War?

I have this weird feeling that, if wedo get a standalone Dark Domain Arc during the Atlas Trilogy, it’ll probably end with the group confrontingSalem. Like Salem vs Ruby as our main heroine but instead of killing her, Salemis sort of restored in a weird way. A part of me believes that it’s not Salem’sfate to die by being killed but to receive death through finally understandingwhat the Gods were trying to show her after all those years ago.

I know no one likes the SalemRedemption headcanon buuuuuuuut…this squigglemeister think it’s very likely due to theforeshadowing left behind by the Lost Fable. At least…okay, hear me out withthis one.

My gut feeling is that RWBY’s climax arc will involve historyrepeating itself.

It will feature Remnant going througha second Great War and it will also feature Salem gathering an army from thatGreat War to enact her revenge on the Gods for a second time.

I feel as if Salem could go throughsomething similar to Haggar/ Honerva during the final season of VoltronLegendary Defender (only not as poorly executed).

I feel like should Ruby use her Silver Eyeson Salem on full blast, she wouldn’t kill her but restore her to her originalself before she fell into the Grimm Pools of Darkness. I feel as if Ruby’s eyes would only cleanse Salem of all of her darkness.However, it wouldn’t change her.

Salem would be reverted back to her original self from First Remnant but she would still harbour the same negative emotions that brought her to her own self destruction.

Alhough she has been cleansed of her darkness, it did not rid her of all the anger and resentment she still harbored for so many years. Her body may be changed again but her memories of the past will still stay with her.

As a matter of fact, it only served to remind her of why Salem became the monster she once was and still was at heart.

The Gods. It was all their fault. They did this to her and they still needed to pay for what they put her through. So basically Salem returns to her old ways.

I like the idea of Ruby cleansing Salem with her Silver Eyes but Salem is still bitter. She hasn’t let go of the past and still wants vengeance.So like before, she tries to form an army of the Grimm but because Salem no longer had anyties to the darkness after her restoration, the Grimm no longer served her.

Thus Salem loses her Grimm army. There could even be a thing where Salem is unable to turn herself back into her Grimmified form. Perhaps after seeing that her power could cleanse Salem, Ruby uses it to get rid of the Grimm Pools? Not sure if she’s that powerful. If not Ruby then I can see Oscar doing that or her and Oscar doing it together, using their combined Light to rid away the land of Darkness maybe?

This infuriates Salem. In a nutshell, my theory is thatRemnant will fall into a second Great War. During those events, we’ll see ouryoung heroes experiencing what their ancestors suffered through with the kingdomstaking fire at each other with Mistral making the first advances to invade and conquer the remaining two kingdoms since Atlas fell. And while and Vacuo’s leaders are doing their best to ensure that Mistral doesn’t wind up taking over their kingdoms, the people suffer at the hands of the Grimm who become more rampant during the chaos.

And while the War is in full effect with everyone fighting against Mistral, Salemuses that as a ploy in her schemes.

Similar to how she gathered First Remnant’sleaders against the Gods in the Lost Fable, what if…Salem rallies the leadersof Mistral (as the most dominant kingdom) appealing to their lust for power so that they may train their weapons on a much higher target.

Imagine if… Salem gets the leaders of Mistral to side with her by saying something along the lines of why rule all of Remnant when you can rule the whole world should they aid her take down the Brother Gods.

What do you think of that? Again I know it’s a stretch of a theory butit’s worth thinking about. So yeah, this answer took a rather strange turn. Nosure if I quite answered it but that’s my answer in a sense XD Hope I answeredyou in some shape or form Al or at least gave you more than you bargained forXD

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

#squiggles answers: rwby #oscar pine #rwby salem #rwby theories #rwby volume 7 theories #albion-93 #squiggles answers

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birdyocs · 4 years

Text

Tae

Name: Tae Nationality: Fire Nation Ethnicity: Fire Nation Age: 16 in ATLA

25 (deceased)

Born: 83 AG

Physical Description

Gender: Female Eye Color: Dark Brown Hair Color: Black Skin Color: Light

Personal Information

Love Interest: Zuko Allies: Iroh, Zuko, Team Avatar, original Red Lotus Enemies: Azula, Ozai, Azulon, Combustion Man, Zuko (formerly), Team Avatar (Formerly)

Weapon of Choice: Kama, Kunai, Shuriken Fighting Styles: Martial arts (armed and Hand-to-hand), Assassination

Chronological and Political Information

Profession: Bodyguard. Ninja, Founder of the Red Lotus

Affiliation: Fire Nation, Team Avatar, Red Lotus

Bio

The Koto family have been appointed as bodyguards to Fire Nation Royalty since ancient times. Born among their ranks was Tae, daughter of Yisara, the renowned vassal to Fire Lord Ozai. Yisara and her husband Shin raise their daughter to follow in the clans footsteps.

Whenever her parents were called away, other members of the clan stepped in as Tae’s surrogate family. Tae was a precocious child and soaked up the knowledge like a sponge. It became clear to all that she would follow her parents’ path.

During General Iroh’s siege on the city of Ba Sing Se many of the Koto Clan were sent in an attempt to infiltrate and take the city down from the inside out; Tae’s parent were among the chosen. All those sent to infiltrate the city were never seen from again.

When Tae came of age at fourteen, she formally entered her training, determined to succeed her mother and carry on the family name in her honor.

She was a prodigious fighter and mastered the kama and kunai. Though she was not a bender like many of her fellow clansmen she proved to all she was worthy of the title, in time allowing her to guard the royal children from the shadows.

But Tae’s soul was restless, and her eyes were open. Though Tae continued to guard the royals without question, she saw the corruption that was seeping through. She began to question if it was truly the royals that needed protection. Her decision was made the moment she witnessed the banishment of Prince Zuko.

The Fire Nation needed to change. In front of the whole clan, she declared the corruption of the royal family, all lies and scheming was destroying their home. The war was a shameless and greedy lust for power and innocents were suffering for it. She would leave with the banished prince and find a way to change things. She did not need the Clan anymore.

The Koto Clan let her go without a fight, erasing her name and any trace of her from their tree.

After Zuko’s accession to the throne and “peace” had been restored Tae left the Fire Nation. For years she traveled helping those in need. She eventually made a home base in a small village within the earth kingdom. On one of her missions she came across a young child named Zaheer whom she took in, acting as a adoptive elder sister. As time passed, their family grew, welcoming Ghazan, Ming-Hua and P'Li. It was here that the Red Lotus started. Originally a simple group that Tae created to help give these children a purpose and to help those oppressed and in need; which later blossomed into something much greater than she could have even imagined.

One day Tae intercepted a message meant for a Fire Nation outpost situated a couple of miles from her village. The message contained plans to reclaim the land that the Fire Nation had lost during the war and take any who fought back into custody. Outraged and afraid for her new family; Tae started to plan.

She planned to infiltrate the compound and take them all out in one fell swoop. Tae dawned her battle gear and weapons and left the small house that had become home. She left that night without a sound, but her absence was felt immediately, as well as an overwhelming sense of dread.

Tae never returned to that village, or the home she shared with those children.

Personality

Usually quiet and serious in Zuko’s presence, Tae generally keeps to herself unless prompted. Her determination and loyalty can be a blessing and a curse. Betray her trust even once and the odds of you ever truly redeeming yourself in her eyes are slim to none. She worries often about Zuko and his whereabouts and will be found watching him more often than not.

After getting to know her and she feels comfortable around you her snarky and almost cocky attitude comes through. She can be blunt and has problems expressing proper etiquette.

She is known for not just her creativity and skill on the battlefield, but also for her undivided loyalty to a cause she deems worthy to fight for.

Abilities

Weapon Proficiency: Tae is adept ad fighting with an assortment of weapons, including the kama, kunai, and shuriken. Though she is not limited to only these weapons.

Enhanced Reflexes: Tae's reflexes enables her to be able to dodge a blast of Azula's lightning at close range.

Throwing: Tae is skilled at throwing shurikens, hitting her targets with a 95% accuracy.

Equipment

Kama: Tae carries a kama traditional to the Koto family.

Shurikens

Kunai

Smoke Bombs

#ATLA oc #wip #oc info

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iwritethat · 6 years

Text

Older Batsis: Birds

Request: More badass older Batsis~

A/n: When your bros find out you have a secret tattoo, but asking your scary sis about it takes guts.

>>>>—————————>

Having you as their older sibling could be... difficult. They knew you respected them and at least acknowledged them as your family members of sorts, despite the fact you refused to work with them. Ever.

They assumed you got your independent attitude from Bruce Wayne, your vigilante father figure, except when you sternly told the Justice League or anyone else for that matter that “I work alone.” they immediately believed you. Batman just didn’t have that lone wolf aesthetic with his deadly following of birds and batgirls.

Dick was probably the only one who remembered the warm heart underneath the frosty scales of your armour, you didn’t team up with them nor did you really stick in one place for a lengthy duration of time so when you rocked up to the Batcave with an arm slung over Wally’s shoulders they instantly paled.

“Hey Dick, pretty bird here flew from the nest and isn’t in the best of shape.” The speedster briefed your family, although you were balancing on the verge of semiconsciousness you pushed away from Wally with scoff.

“I’m fine alright... why’d you bring me here? Ah shit!” Pain sprinted through your nervous system and you instantly found yourself swooped up into the scarlet speedsters arms again.

“You’ll thank me later, I promise but even if you never forgive me I’d rather you be alive.” West gazed at you with concern filling his emerald irises and carried you over to the medical bay where he was met with Alfred and Bruce glaring at him.

It was expected that you remove you outer layer so the wounds were reachable but upon Alfred’s request you flatly declined.

“Not happening, at least not until I’m given some privacy.” This hushed the interrogation from your brothers who left the room because they weren’t stupid enough to argue with you, Damian was but Dick ushered him out before he could speak.

They’d definitely return, you regretfully couldn’t avoid your family forever even if it was to protect them. After Jason died, you all went your separate ways as your family were too broken to repair themselves when you attempted communication - they pushed you away in their state of grievance, so you stayed away. Bruce was seething at Wally for having to be saved - not that it was his fault, the man was protecting hostages at the time and you couldn’t exactly let the Flash die, it’d leave Central City unprotected and you were not replacing him. The Rogues would piss you off too much.

Alas you were correct, whilst preparing to leave since Alfred ensured you were at least stable (no prolonged stay necessary/wanted) and slipping on your jacket when Dick burst in.

“Woah wait you’re leaving?!” Upon hearing his yell, Tim and Jason bolted over from the Batcomputer to correspond a farewell.

“Just like that? (Y/n) stay for dinner or something...” Jason muttered, tugging your jacket to gain your attention although their surprising discovery muted oncoming persuasion.

“I didn’t know you had a tattoo!” Tim excitedly commented marvelling at the work depicted on your shoulder blade where your jacket had fallen to reveal your camisole underneath.

“Shit...”

“Is this what you didn’t want us to see earlier (L/n)? It suggests it is meaningful to you.” God you didn’t even hear Damian come in but he deduced the situation quickly, the boys immediately even more involved plainly to bug you like the little brothers they were.

“It’s nothing. Now move.” You coldly replied, securing your jacket to hide the object of their heightening intrigue.

“4 birds though?” Dick mindlessly stated, brows furrowed as he thought through numerous possibilities whilst you brushed past them toward the exit.

You gave an exasperated sigh, knowing that they were considering the meaning behind your creative secret but you were more focused on disappearing.

“It’s us!” Tim smugly clarified, smirking at your frozen figure. Damn his superior detective skills.

“...”

“Timbers, our badass, cold hearted sister would never.” Jason sternly stated, referring to your usual uninterested nature.

“He’s right. Tim is right okay?” Mostly you wanted Jason’s way of thinking to be the stereotypical view of you but it was overshadowed by your underlying love for them which was displayed by your defeated posture.

With a deep breath to replenish your confidence, you began by stripping your jacket, turning away from them to hide your expression and expose your detailed artistry.

“There’s 1 for each of you because I never want to forget, if something ever goes wrong then this is my anchor. Anyway, this bird represents Dick, it’s wings are spread because he’s always flying. He’s not afraid to fall and I admire that... but if he ever does I’ll be there to catch him.” The sincerity in your tone set them all on edge as you pointed to the highest bird, it was unexpected as they never believed you truly viewed them that way.

With their bewilderment, you continued, the action made easier being blind to their facial reactions. “Hm. That one is Jason’s-“

“The feathers are falling, it’s because I died I’m guessing.” The tallest commented, quite abrupt about the subject but you immediately corrected him with voice of determination.

“Originally it never had the falling feathers it was - still is the brightest colour since you were so full of life and intelligently bright too. I added them after you returned because I let you down, you lost apart of yourself but no matter what, you continue to fight. You’re so strong Jaybird, y’know that?”

“(Y/n) you-“ Before he could pipe in you briskly moved on, running your finger down your skin to pinpoint the next target.

“Smallest one is Damian, not due to his height but because he has the most room to grow and I can’t wait to see it. That bird has the kindest eyes, to match Dami’s heart.” A brief smile crossed your lips at that and you could only hope they’d wear one too.

“And the final one is for Timbers, the bird looking like it’s landing, he found his home here or at least I’d hope so. I wanted you to feel welcome and loved Tim, despite what you have to put up with. Even from me.” You hadn’t realised the lone stream staining your face, nor the crack in your voice during the final sentence but the boys likely picked up on it.

Your hand fell back to your side, their ongoing silence lead you to feel uncomfortable, you’d shredded your armour both literally and figuratively before them and they had nothing to say which encouraged you to throw on your jacket, stealthily wiping your eyes in the process. This is why you kept your feelings hidden, buried under sarcasm, silence and mild violence (you were a vigilante after all).

“Heh, but whatever. I better get outta here anyway, later losers!” Your tone was quiet and mildly awkward, shrugging off the previous soft atmosphere with a defensive insult.

“Hey, uh check this out. Ridiculous right?” Jason started, hesitantly grabbing your fleeting shoulder to show you an old battered photo he’d dug out of his jacket pocket. It depicted the two of you and Dick pulling immature faces, a joyful moment captured in time before his death.

“Yea-yeah... that’s so stupid Jay.” Neither of you meant it, the insults conveying a deeper sense of emotion to one another.

“Not as stupid as that.” Tim gestured to the handwritten instructions taped to the Batcomputer, the ones you’d given him when he first arrived as a guide. The boy picked it up so quickly that you didn’t think he even used them, let alone kept them.

“Don’t give us the cold shoulder (Y/n). We’re here for you, like you are for us.” Dick grinned, pleased with his remark.

“Right, because you guys have always got my back.” Was your unimpressed but amused reply, though Jason couldn’t resist the urge to mock you.

“I mean the tattoo is on your shoulder but nice try sis.”

“Your sense of humour is insufferable.” Damian muttered, he’d heard enough puns from Dick Grayson to last him a lifetime or 3.

A small laugh escaped you as you waved goodbye to your brothers, feeling like you’d strengthened your bond with them.

They were a good family, your tattoo would always remind you of that - maybe that was why you chose your shoulder blade? Because they’d always be looking over your shoulder, because you’d always have their back and they’d have yours. Because they were your little birds, not matter how tall or muscly they get.

-Bonus-

“Hey Wally, did you know about (Y/n)’s bird tattoo?” Dick casually asked his best friend once he returned from Bruce’s lecture.

“Obviously, it’s kinda hard to miss. It’d be even worse if I didn’t know about it.” Wally honestly responded, hands lazily shoved into the pockets of his black hoodie.

“...”

“Uh huh, and how exactly do you know about it?” The suspicion in Tim’s tone immediately caused the speedster to rethink his choice of words, they were playing him.

“We - um, why does that matter exactly?”

“As family, it’s of importance so I suggest you start talking West.” Damian lowly answered, hand placed over the hilt of his katana displaying his lack of patience for Wally’s sassy comebacks.

“(Y/nnnnn)!”

#older batsis #older batsis imagine #dc #dc imagine #batsis #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #wally west #batfam #batfam imagine #nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #kid flash

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