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dat-town · 3 years

Text

throw me to the wolves (and i’ll return leading the pack)

Characters: rebellion leader!Juyeon & thief!you

Genre: action, kind of enemies to lovers, historical (set in early 1900s like in Mr. Sunshine)

Warnings: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit, violence, minor character deaths

Summary: As the king’s thief, you had been assigned to get back the stolen map of the palace. It’s easy as pie but you would have never expected such consequences of your actions and you certainly did not expect Lee Juyeon in your life.

Words: 8.3k

Author’s note: title is a Seneca quote as far as I know (and I swear it will make sense), also the concept is very much inspired by TBZ’s Road to Kingdom Reveal and Danger stages.

Lee Juyeon might not have been of royal blood but he had definitely been born to rule.

The first time you met him, he pressed the blade of a knife against your neck, pinning you to a dirty wall in the outskirts of Hanseong.

"Not the nicest way to say hi to a lady," you remarked casually as if neither the closeness of his firm, strong body nor the sharp object grazing your skin didn't affect you. He was a lot stronger than you, you knew that, it would have been useless to go against him with brute force, so you had to be smart about it.

"You are very far from a lady," he sneered at you, dark messy hair falling into his fierce eyes.

Meeting his gaze, your heartbeat stopped for a moment in fear before blood rushing to your face tinted your pale cheeks in the colours of rosy sunrises. His eyes were murderous and he held his weapon steadily, so you were sure he wouldn't have hesitated to slice your throat if things didn't go his way. He was a dangerous man, you knew that already. With a reputation like his, you expected nothing less.

Although he might have had the reflexes and the wits, he might have been able to find you but you weren't going to just let him win so easily.

"Oh, am I?" you tilted your head nonchalantly yet careful not to hurt yourself because of your own hastiness. Then you elegantly lifted your right leg to link it behind his thigh almost as if you wanted to pull him closer. As expected, he faltered momentarily, blinking surprised at your bold and suggestive move, but that was all you needed to pull out your own dagger from its case on your leg and point it at his abdomen with a triumphant smile playing on your carmine lips. Oh men and their confidence, they always overlooked the skills of women.

Juyeon gritted his teeth, pressing his lips together firmly and as he was looking at you through narrowed eyes and you swore you could almost see the cogs in his head turning.

"Not that I don't enjoy this but what about we continue this discussion in a more civilized manner?" you croaked a brow at him challengingly to which the guy just let out a ridiculing snort.

"Well, you could have thought of that when you robbed me," he remarked almost as if he was waiting for you to deny it. But you just shrugged, unbothered.

"Stealing from a thief can hardly count as a theft."

"But it doesn't change the fact that I want my possession back," the young man retorted and you cracked a smile at that. That wasn't unexpected, of course, he wanted it. A lot of people desired the same thing in those chaotic times.

"Well, I don't have it with me but if you are willing to pay me more than my current client I might consider giving it back. I won't risk my life for nothing. Not even for that handsome face of yours," you teased pressing his buttons on purpose, testing him but the guy let out another snort, this time with a roll of his eyes. He clearly didn't appreciate you joking around but you were dead serious about your offer. In this kind of business you were dealing in, betraying a client had a high price.

"What about you giving it back nicely and I will forget about this little incident?" he offered you a chance to come clean and there was a dangerous edge in his voice, a 'because if you don't...' kind of threat. Oh, so he was the revengeful kind. It didn't really surprise you but he also wasn't the first man promising to ruin your life. But also because of that, his words could not scare you.

"What about I start screaming and men will come and save me from a pervert who pushed me against the wall?" you asked and from the flinch of his mouth you knew you had won this time. Because Hanseong might not have been the most righteous place of all, men still liked to play the hero if a pretty girl called for help. Juyeon must have known this as well, so his silence made you smile. "What about we play by my rules? Be at the Eastern altar of the Buddhist temple by the time the bell rings last at midnight and we might make a deal if you bring enough cash."

“Aren't you afraid that I will just take it?” he pondered the thought but he should have known better.

“Aren't you arrogant to think I would let you have it so easily? So what will it be? Should I scream?” you provoked him on purpose and did not like his smirk one bit. But at least he pulled away, lowering his knife, slipping it back to its place while his gaze wandered down to your rolled up skirt and the dagger you held in your hand.

“There are better ways to make you scream,” he said hoarsely and you couldn't decide whether it was supposed to be a threat or he was just being cocky. But before you could have questioned his motives, he swiftly climbed over a wall, disappearing into the shadows.

Lee Juyeon was fuming. He hated to lose and for some reason, meeting you felt like a slap. He didn't like that you had something over him, something that he really needed, so he had no choice but to cooperate, something he really hated to do with people he didn't trust and he certainly loathed your fleeting loyalty. Your kind, who didn't believe in anything, always chose the side which seemed more favourable, was the worst in his eyes because you two might have been criminals just the same but at least he did it all for a reason, a greater cause.

"Did you get it back?" Changmin greeted him excitedly as soon as he stepped into their hideout but Juyeon didn't spare him a glance, he went straight to their safe.

"She didn't have it with her," he murmured grumpily and mindlessly but the other boy was quick to catch on that tiny detail.

"Wait... she? It was a girl that almost broke Chanhee's nose?" he gasped to which the guy he just mentioned threatened to throw the closest object at him which happened to be a stolen jewellery box.

"Thank you for the reminder," he spoke up ironically sweetly.

Juyeon just shot them a disapproving look.

"Yes, it was a very annoying girl," he said, blood still boiling because of the fact that this unknown girl managed to break into their hideout and steal the map of the palace. They worked too hard to get it just to get it taken away by a pitiful thief.

"We will get it back, don't worry, but we can't make it too easy for her because then she might get greedy. Get some of the boys. We are going to pray tonight," Juyeon said as he fixed his sword on his side.

Changmin and Chanhee exchanged a knowing look but neither of them objected. They knew better because if Juyeon was good at something other than having a tongue as sharp as his blade, that was planning. He just didn't like when things got out of hand.

The temple was eerily quiet moments before midnight. When the bell of curfew woke up all the birds that flew away, Juyeon stepped out of the darkness as well, making his way slowly towards the altar but just as he stepped inside the temple, a familiar voice echoed all around.

“Aren’t you curious why I chose this place?” came the rhetorical question from somewhere in the shadows. “Because the acoustic is so perfect that every little step can be heard clearly. So you better leave your boys out and come in alone.”

Juyeon gritted his teeth and signalled to the others to wait outside. He hated that he was outsmarted by you. Not because you were a girl, he prided himself in the fact that he didn't care about that. He didn't like anyone crossing his plans and you were doing that as if you had the time of your life waltzing through his chess board.

He took careful, calculated steps inside the temple. He halted for a moment when he saw you sitting cross legged in front of a golden statue of a deity. He himself had never been religious, no god had given him a reason to believe, so he believed in what he could see and experience: himself and his group.

"Let's cut to the chase. I brought the money," he said, throwing the bag of coins between the two of you.

You hummed, acknowledging the heavy weight of the bag. But if you wanted to be honest, you didn't really care about money. Sure, it was a good safety net in case your previous clients turned against you but money couldn't save your life, you could have done nothing with it dead.

"Why do you need the map of the Palace?" you roll the sheet of paper in front of you, so both of you would see it: the pretty architectural plan of the most important building complex of the empire.

"Isn't it obvious?" Juyeon croaks a brow at that, glancing down on the paper and the candles nearby, wondering whether you would threaten him to set it ablaze if he wasn't cooperative. If you were arrogant enough to think you could be faster than him.

"Hm, no. I can think of multiple purposes," you told him lulling the options in your head. “But you don't have a good thief. If you had instead of trying to negotiate with me they would steal it back, so I guess you don't wish to rob the treasury. Then again you would have much easier ways to get inside if you would like to free a prisoner, so that leaves me with one option: you want to kill the king. Or someone as important as him."

Him, that puppet king so hungry for power that he didn’t even notice how his advisers controlled him.

The corner of Juyeon's mouth twitches. No matter how much he tried to act nonchalant he was annoyed how well you figured him out. His silence was enough of an answer for you nevertheless. So with a content smile on your carmine lips, you tilted your head in interest, gaze fixed on his sharp lines even in the dim lit temple.

"You know, rumours say that you are the bastard son of the late king," you told him paying close attention to his reactions but Juyeon stayed unfazed.

"And you think I will tell you if it's right or not?" he let out a mocking laughter but you weren't one to take it to heart.

"It was worth a shot." you just shrugged, then looked down on the map he so desperately wanted. "I will let you have it for free. On one condition."

"Then it's not free," he corrected you but the way his mouth tilted with annoyance but eyebrows raised in curiosity, he couldn't have been that bothered.

"I want in," you told him, clear and honest, confident. "If you really want to kill the king, I want to join."

For the first time that night the guy seemed really surprised and he didn't hide it. He looked at you as if you thought killing was a children's game.

"That's rebellion, you know, right?"

"We're both criminals, you know, right?" you retorted and he stared into your eyes, cold fire burning in his dark orbs. Moments passed like this, in grave silence and then...

"Accept her freaking condition. We do need a good thief," someone yelled from outside and you let out a chuckle. At least someone was smart on that team, you liked him already. Unlike the infamous Lee Juyeon.

"If you ever just think about betraying us, I'll kill you myself," he gritted his teeth but you merely smiled at him. You had no plans on betraying them as long as they got rid of the puppet king. And your unpaid debt.

"Understood," you stood up, pushing the map to his chest and grinned at him. "Instead of sulking, introduce me to your boys."

The notorious group was unlike any other than you had met before. They seemed more like friends and family than allies from the way they acted around each other. Of course, you weren't taken to the headquarters right away. You were taken to some inn where a guy named Changmin who seemed the most open to your arrival checked whether the map was real. They also stood guard one by one during the night as if you wanted to kill them. Gosh, it was four against one and Mr. Almighty thought girls weren't a match for him.

You immediately hit it off with Changmin over the fact that you had punched someone called Chanhee in the face while stealing the asset from them the last time. Sangyeon was kind but careful from the beginning. But Sunwoo and Juyeon seemed more wary of you but after you gave the last chicken wing of yours to the younger, he softened, so only their leader was hard to crack. You didn't exactly blame him, he just tried to keep the others safe even if he did it in an annoying way.

"Let's get one thing right: I don't trust you. Your kind, only working for money as if that was your god, not believing in something, that's the worst," he told you one evening, right before you were about to meet the entire team.

"I don't have the luxury to believe in anything else than myself. Never had," you looked him straight in the eyes, no tremble in your voice and then, for the first time since you knew him, Juyeon's eyes had a kind of understanding in them as if he knew what you were talking about.

The next day you were heading towards a temporary base and while the guys warned you about possible checks and guards on the road, neither of you expected any connotation. You travelled on horse backs with a farm-wagon like some nomads trying not to draw attention but each of you were known and wanted criminals, so it was almost inevitable to get on someone's bad side.

"Where exactly are we going?" you complained when you noticed that you took a turn that led backwards from where you departed.

"To the base, like we said, we just don't want unwelcomed guests there," Juyeon gritted his teeth, tilting his head towards the mountains. You didn't see anything special in them but he must have been aware of how ambushes around there worked because it didn't take long for the men to show their faces… or well, their intent. The first arrow pierced into the ground only a few steps away from Sunwoo's horse's feet, scaring the animals and alarming all of you. You looked around, drawing your daggers from your belt but you didn't see anyone in particular. The attack must have come from the mountains, from behind the rocks and the first one was soon followed by another again and again arrows raining down on you like a summer downpour.

"Into the woods! Right now!" Juyeon yelled and everybody followed his order without questions asked, leading the horses among the trees, into hiding. You tried to keep up and follow the guys but it seemed like you had lost their sight while watching behind your back too, checking on the approaching attackers. Eventually you decided to let your horse go, far into the woods, away from the danger on its own as you tried to hide from the men. You were like a shadow thief after all, you were good at disappearing into thin air but not if you had an animal three-four times your size with you. You hid behind a rock covered in green leaves, wondering whether you should have climbed the bamboo trees instead when you heard the steps nearing. You suck in your breath, holding it in to not make any noise while mentally cursing Lee Juyeon and his gang for setting you up. The king must have offered a nice sum of money for proving you unfaithful. Why else would they have left you behind?

Just as you thought you were by yourself, a hand clamped over your mouth, pulling your body close to his.

"Keep quiet and follow me," Juyeon, that impossible guy, muttered before slowly taking his hands off you and yanking you towards the growing bushes in the middle of the bamboo forest. There, between two ordinary looking branches he crouched down and climbed into some kind of hole that was unnoticeable from afar. You followed him, knees and hands dirty by the time you got to some kind of cave where you could stand up finally and you blinked, trying to adjust to the dark.

"Welcome to the base," you heard Changmin's cheerful voice and he lit a lamp, filling the cave with light where everybody was safe and sound. Seeing that and how Sangyeon was in the middle of treating an arrow scratch on Sunwoo's arm, you let out the breath you had been holding this whole time. Back there, you really thought for a moment that they betrayed you already and while lack of trust saved you quite a few times, this time you weren't proud of doubting them already. Not that they had any sentimental reason to get you to safety, they needed you for their mission, only that, you knew that and refused to believe otherwise.

However, the confession that fell from your lips that evening while passing the pot of jjigae around was more out of a sense of fairness than guilt.

"You told me you hate the kind that works only for the money, right?" you met Juyeon's sharp, dark, ever so telling eyes by the campfire, keeping your voice low enough, so only the two of you would hear it.

"I don't really have much choice. I work for the king to pay off my family's debt. It's this or prison and if I can make some side money like that, why not?" you shrugged, not looking at him. You weren't curious about his reaction or opinion, you told yourself. You didn't tell him to pity you.

A few long moments of silence passed while you pretended to cool the food down while stirring until Juyeon spoke up.

"Then why are you betraying him?"

"Isn't it obvious? A debt to the king has no limit, I would have to work for him until the day I die, he would never be satisfied with less. I want my freedom back," you told him, honestly, which was received only by a hum but you were glad that he didn't drag the topic out, he didn't ask about the reason behind the debt.

After that day, you were more involved in the planning phrase of the upcoming missions and eventually you met the whole team. You went out to steal this and that with Chanhee, playfully commenting on how pretty his nose was and grew totally fond of Haknyeon who made the best noodle soup you ever ate. The more missions you had been a part of, the more time you spent with them and away from the castle, the less chance you had to go back and beg for mercy if things went wrong. That was your original plan: give it a chance and retreat if it didn't work out but you had to realise that these people didn't have A and B plans, this was their one and only fight and they believed in it. It made you want it to succeed even more.

"We don't do this to rule," Changmin told you one day, after practicing sword fighting. "Nobody here, not even Juyeon desires the throne. We do this for the oppressed people, for those who suffer the most under this unfair regime."

It sounded too noble to be real but you believed him. Even more so when you heard that their takeover plan considered the loss of people and that they wished to get over with it with the least victims possible. That was why they needed the plan too: to know the best path to the throne room and the king's and his advisers' rooms without getting in the way of many guards. You also needed to know where and when the soldiers did their regular checks in the palace, so your plan's next phase was to observe the place. Chanhee has some connections and you could have your hideout in a courtesan house close to the royal quarters.

"Change," Juyeon said as he put a pile of pastel green dress in front of you. You looked down with clear disgust on your face before looking back up at a disgust.

"Are you for real?"

"You can't walk into a courtesan house dressed like that. You are a girl," Juyeon's voice was authoritative and a bit tense, you scoffed.

"Wow, now you're saying that," you rolled your eyes at him, still grimacing even when you were told that it was expensive to get said dress. In the end, you had to admit, it was the plan possible way to get in, so you picked the clothes up with a sigh and walked into a further alcove to get changed before your departure. It had been a long time since you wore skirts, those weren't too practical for climbing or fighting, so you preferred pants and anything that made it easy to move quickly and comfortably. So it felt strange to wear something like this again, not to mention it was probably silk based on how soft it was against your skin and you probably had never worn something as expensive as that. You ever let your hair down from the usual ponytail that made sure it didn't get in the way, so you looked every bit of a decent lady when you stepped out.

"Wow," Youngjae gave voice to his awe the moment he saw you and Sunwoo had to nudge him in the side to close his mouth.

The boys were either shy about it or similarly amazed, only Juyeon didn't really react. He barely glanced your way before telling everyone to hurry up. You rolled your eyes at his obvious behaviour and stuck to Changmin’s side on the way to the courtesan house. It would have been too conspicuous if everybody went together, so you formed smaller groups.

The plan was to get everyone to the new base before midnight and observe the palace for the next few days in turns. To make it even more believable, in public you had to act as if you were one of the girls working in the courtesan house, that made it less suspicious for the guys to visit you either and you didn’t care about your reputation much anyways. Not that a lot knew you, the faceless shadow thief, anyways. During the next days you gathered enough information to know when it would have been the best to attack but there must have been a whistleblower around because soldiers raided the courtesan house one of the evenings.

“They closed off every exit and entrance, we cannot get out without being caught,” Sangyeon said while Hyungseo looked out the window, confirming that there were soldiers outside as well.

“Chanhee says they are checking every room where there’s no business going on,” Changmin closed the door behind him. You were on the top floor, so you had advantage in time while the soldiers were busy checking beneath.

“Business?” Youngjae furrowed his brows, confused and got a smack in the head from Sunwoo.

“You know,” he emphasized making hand gestures that almost made you laugh despite the tense situation.

“Then hide and let’s make it look like there’s something here they don’t have the right to see,” you said pulling the fancy hairpin out, letting your locks fall onto your shoulders as you threw your red robe onto the ground, leaving a bit of a mess.

“Oh my gosh,” Youngjae shrieked, scandalized and turned his back on you, deciding to hide inside the closet followed by Sunwoo while others moved behind the curtains.

“Come on, I can’t put on a show alone. That would be even more suspicious than having a tea party here,” you complained, heartbeat drumming in your ears as you heard the approaching steps echo from the stairs outside. You climbed on top of the bed that faced the door and raised a brow at the two guys staring at you as if they didn’t believe you were alright with what you had just proposed.

“Showtime, boss,” Hyunjae decided and literally dragged Juyeon’s jacket off him before drawing his sword out, he stood behind the door in case the soldiers would have come inside anyways. That left only the team’s leader, the guy who had once said you weren’t much of a lady, in front of you, looking like he had some internal conflict.

Ridiculous. It was just a fake act, even if he was terrible at pretending, he could have made an effort. You weren’t a bad face to look at, so he really could have at least not suffered so visibly about having to get close with you. Maybe you just imagined him cursing under his breath, maybe he really was that frustrated but at least you didn’t have to force him to get on the damn bed and unbutton his shirt a bit himself. Great.

“Could you not act as if it physically hurt you to touch m–” you muttered under your breath, annoyed but Juyeon cut you off with a simple movement. He climbed over you, hovering over your body and slid a hand onto your neck, angling your head just right for a kiss that never came. Your lips parted in surprise but his only grazed against it slightly, your breaths mingling in the air while his piercing gaze shot right through you. It felt burning, the way he looked at you with those feline eyes from so close. You could practically feel the heat of his body, his skin scorching against yours – or was it you? – and your heart picked up its speed once again. The wait was nerve-wracking because you felt the tension stiffen in the air while you listened to the thuds of doors opening and closing, soldiers shouting.

When the door your room opened, revealing three men in black behind it, you pretended to be shocked and automatically reached to rearrange your clothes while Juyeon turned his head lazily towards the intruders.

“Who are you to disturb me? Did I not pay enough?” he yelled at the soldiers who exchanged knowing looks, but after looking around for suspicious signs, they indeed retreated.

You let out a breath when the door finally closed again and tried and failed not to roll your eyes at how fast Juyeon pulled away. Hyungseo cleared his throat and said something about seeing the two of you slightly undressed in a bed scarring him for life and one by one all the guys came out of their hiding place, only making comments about the recent events behind your backs.

After the visit of the soldiers, the tense atmosphere slowly dissolves into something like anticipation and determination to get done with their plan as soon as possible. You already had a good idea about the daily routine within the palace but with how frequently they changed their guards it would have been almost impossible to get through them without drawing too much attention and that was the least you wanted. If the royal guards knew about your arrival, you would have been too outnumbered to actually do anything, much less to get to the king himself. But you had a good card in your favour.

"So I will be taking the map back?"

"Right. If we have at least a bit of luck, the king and his men only know that you came to get that. Let's say you had trouble getting your hands on it..." Sangyeon explained which made you scoff out loud. You didn't mean to look down on them but it was ridiculously easy to get the map. Sure they had stood guard and they kept it locked away but a group of about ten guys was nothing you who had been robbing much more secured places than their bases. The most difficult part was to actually find them, after that it was like a children's play. So it somewhat hurt your pride and reputation as a thief to admit you had to waste days until you got it.

"Sure, we can say that I tried to seduce your boss to get the map here," you shrugged and glanced at said guy and knew that despite your nonchalant behaviour your words provoked him based on the way he clenched his jaw. "That would explain even if one of the guards recognized me. Though I don't see much of a chance for that. Although this much time would have been enough for you to get what you wanted from it, so the king will be displeased."

"Will you meet him in person?" Haknyeon asked since that was crucial information regarding your plan. If you were about to meet the king, then they must be there, too. But no, you only met the king once and the memory sent shivers down your spine. You were dragged in front of him, clothed rugged, dirt and bruises all over you as two guards held you. You weren't proud of how you had been crying but that day, you were sure you were about to die. As a daughter of servants in the royal palace, you had no way of providing a better life for yourself. You weren't only a subject to the king but his slave. When you were born that way, there was no chance of getting out. Born as a girl you couldn't become a guard, a soldier or a scholar. It was a time when the higher you could go was becoming a concubine but you had no intention of lying under the king or a prince. You would have chosen death over that.

But no, the king must have wanted something since he didn't kill you with your parents when he learned about their betrayal, about how they sold information about him to his brother. No, he took your life and made sure to form you to his will, to make the perfect little thief and spy for him in exchange for letting you live. But he was naive to think that you would be loyal to the murdered of your parents. Because he might not have been the one to draw the sword but he was the one who gave the orders, him and not his stupid advisers who made your country rot and the people suffer.

"Probably not. He usually gives me orders through his right hand man," you said, knowing too well that said man had his temperament to match the king's. They would beat you just enough, so you could steal more for them. Maybe break only your left hand to cause enough pain but not turning you incapable for them. You were an asset, nothing more and you hated it.

"What will happen to you because of your latency?" came the next question and gulping down your own fears, you waved it off, forcing a confident expression onto your face.

"Don't worry about me and break into the king's quarters like you should," you told them, clear as the sky was on summer afternoons you had liked as a child.

The truth was, everybody knew what happened to those who displeased the king. It wouldn't matter that you bring back the desired map. If you were late, it was the same as not going along with the order.

"You should have someone to be there with you," Juyeon spoke up for the first time for a while, his gaze fixated on the map without a fail and it made the corners of your mouth twitch. It almost sounded like he cared.

"Are you worried about me, Lee Juyeon?" you raised a brow at him, cunningly like a tease but when he looked up and your eyes met, the words froze onto the tip of your tongue. There was something sad in his eyes, something you had failed to notice before. As if he understood you more than you would have thought.

"Of course, we are all worried about you!" Changmin said vehemently and you tore your gaze away from the raven haired boy to turn to him with a grateful smile.

"Then, focus on not getting yourself killed first. I can take care of myself," you claimed and kept acting like it through the meeting, deciding on the upcoming Lotus festival celebration's night for the attack. There might have been more guards around then but with more guests in the palace, it would have been easier to blend in. No to mention that the king being drunk could probably help too.

It was a good plan, one you believed in. One that could finally bring you peace and freedom. You didn't want to delude yourself too early, so you tried not to think too much about it. If the mission wasn't successful you would have been killed for sure since what you were about to do was treason and no traitor could live in Hanseong.

It was a two way street then: freedom or death. Free from the king's chains either way. Yet, the night before the Lotus festival, you found it hard to sleep. You were fidgety, even snapped at Changmin when he tried to make a joke about you finally looking like yourself in your regular clothes instead of the courtesan one. You apologized and he understood, everybody was tense after all but it showed differently. Juyeon for example was even more closed off and quieter than usual. You didn't expect to run into him at night, though.

It was eerily quiet in the corridors and you just wanted to get some fresh air, outside of the suffocating atmosphere of your room. Meeting him by the gate, however, wasn't the plan.

"Are you ditching us?" he asked in a hoarse voice, back leaning against the brick wall as soon as you passed by him like wind. His voice was more passive and sad than angry and you remembered how he warned, threatened you to kill you if you decided to betray their trust. Sure, you could have ratted them out, saving yourself but did he really trust you so little?

"I don't know. Should I?" you retorted just for the sake of it because it was ridiculous: his suspicion of you even after all this time. But he didn't answer, so you rolled your eyes. "I just needed some air. Just like you, I assume."

Juyeon seemed to complement over your reply but he must have deemed it good enough because he turned his deadly gaze away. You didn't intend to have a heart-to-heart talk with him but since you might die tomorrow, it was your last chance to ask questions like:

"You already know my reason for treason but what's yours? And don't give me some crap like for a better and fair future," you turned to him but you were careful enough to look around before talking about something like that in public.

However, Juyeon either wanted to avoid answering or simply didn't like the place as he bob his head towards the courtesan house and as his sign, you went back inside, finding solace in your empty room. It had been a long while since you had been alone with him and you remembered what happened here the last time when you were this close… even closer. Now you both sat on the ground, backs to the wall, no touching, no smart retorts, no audience.

"Have you heard the story of the Crown Prince?" Juyeon spoke up but his question made you furrow your brows.

"About Prince Hyunjoon? What story?" you wondered out loud as confused as you were. Prince Hyunjoon had been sent to study in a prestigious academy as it had been advised to the king but it was probably not for his own good, there were rumours going around that he had sent the boy away because he feared he would try to take his throne from him. He had grown to be paranoid.

"No, not him. The first born prince," Juyeon corrected you and that made sense, you couldn’t recall anything else that was interesting regarding the next ruler of the country. You believed that after his father’s death, even if he was inexperienced, he could make a better king. He was said to be kindhearted after all.

"Ah, the prince who died almost 20 years ago?"

Your question had been left hanging for a few long moments and you even turned to face Juyeon, wondering whether he heard up but what he said next made your eyes grow comically wide.

"He didn't die,” he claimed so sure of himself that it left no doubts even though it was already crazy. “But he has always been unworthy of the title of the crown prince."

"What do you mean? And how do you know?" you sprouted questions because in that moment you could do only that, even forgetting how it came up in the first place.

"You see, the crown prince was indeed the son of the queen but just as the king wasn't faithful, she wasn't either. She had her child out of wedlock but raised him as if he was the kind of royal the king desired,” the boy continued quietly, looking down at his hands, playing with a ring on his pinkie finger. “The king figured out and he was furious. He got the queen killed but the boy was rescued by rebels. He was only six at the time but from one day to another, his father who had never been a kind man became his biggest enemy, so he had grown up seeking revenge.”

You had listened to this story, his story, you were sure, and you couldn’t have been more shocked. You knew that the king was an awfully temperamental man but killing his own wife and a child? And these days he got drunk and had multiple women in his quarters? It made you sick.

“That’s my reason for treason,” Juyeon added slowly, quietly, almost gentle and for the first time you wanted to tell him something reassuring, something so unlike you but it wasn’t your place to pat him on the back and tell him everything would be alright.

“I… I never knew. I have grown up in the palace but I have only heard that the first prince had died and his death broke the queen’s heart, too,” you whispered, suddenly feeling naive but who would have thought?

“Not many people know. He hid it well,” the boy gritted his teeth, then exhaled a few shaky breaths. “But Hyunjoon knows and he’s on our side. He will make a good king.”

You hummed along, agreeing, hoping for better days and that you could live long enough to enjoy those.

"Look, I know you hate me..." you started off, not trying to come off as someone close to him just because he told you this but then, he unexpectedly cut you off. His confident voice caught you off guard so much that it had your eyes widen in surprise.

"I don't," he said and you might have only imagined it but he sounded a bit nervous. He probably wasn’t used to talking about his feelings, even if it was hate. Now, that made two of you. "I did hate you but... I hate everything that I associate with the king and you... I have seen the bag of gold coins paid for killing my mother and me."

Ah. So that was why he hated ‘your kind’ so much. The kind that took dirty money and accomplished any task thrown in their way, even murdering an innocent child. It made sense, the murderous look in his eye, the disgust he had written all over the place whenever he looked at you. He probably associated you with those who had taken his mother away from him.

“I’m just a thief. I never killed anyone, even though some I encountered would have deserved it,” you told him. You didn’t owe him an explanation or anything for that matter but still, you wanted him to hear that from you because you knew how your reputation made you sound.

"I know," Juyeon stated, oddly calm and you were dumbfounded to notice the subtle smile in the corner of his mouth before he turned his head to look at you. Dark orbs finding yours, stirring something inside you. "Your aim is too shitty for you to be a killer."

"Yah!" you gasped, pseudo-offended but then laughed it off and for the first time in a long while, for a moment you felt light and at ease. Who knew Juyeon could make you feel that way too and not just boil your blood in an annoying way.

Looking back, you should have known better. You should have seen that something was off. But your mission was planned so well that you believed the smooth execution was thanks to all those long days who had put into it and all those months and years of preparation that Juyeon and his team had behind their backs in order to even dare such a thing.

Getting into the palace during the Lotus Festival was easy. A lot of people came and went during the parade and the palace was buzzing with life. The king looked like he was having fun as well, maybe a bit too much with how often his glass was refilled with rice wine but his recklessness was only working into your favour. By the time the celebrations became dull enough for the ruler to leave, you left your signal in the throne room, wishing for counsel. It was always like this but you never met the king during these times, you didn’t even mind it. Still, waiting in the half-lit room was quite nerve-wracking while you prayed for the others to be able to make their way to the king’s chambers without any hitch. You knelt before the empty throne, head onto the ground, waiting like a good, loyal subject and you suppressed the shudder running through you when you heard approaching, arrogant steps.

“You’re late,” a voice said and you still kept your head down. But you were ready to draw your dagger any needed moment.

“My deepest apology, Your Majesty. I tried to be as quick as possible,” you mumbled out an excuse knowing well that until the right hand let you know that he wasn’t the king, you had to act as if he was.

“Then you were too slow,” the man grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him and with widened eyes, you saw those ruthless ones that had been haunting your dreams since your parents’ death. There was the king in front of you.

But… the whole team had clearly seen him go to his chambers! Then… who was that? Who played that role in the trap? How far would they have gone? What was waiting for the others on their way to the king’s main bedroom? You had to warn them somehow!

"You really thought you could double-cross me? You thought I wouldn't know that you betray me?" the king clicked his tongue, earning your attention again, injecting fear into your veins. You wanted to turn your head, to pull away, to yell at Changmin to go and let the others know but before you could have done any of that, the king pushed you onto the ground.

"Ah, looking for your friend?" he asked mockingly and with a flick of his wristy he called for his guards, the men who carried the luml body of a familiar face.

"No! Changmin!" you shrieked in panic. He was supposed to keep an eye on you, not getting caught. Now, that it wasn't just you in immediate danger, worries took over your chest almost suffocating you.

"Although I should be grateful since you brought my long lost son back home, so I could finish the job my men couldn't," the king tilted his head as if he was pondering over the thought. Your fingers curled up in a fist, glaring at the man with hatred. He played with all of you like a cat played with mice before eating. He enjoyed your suffering and the mind games he played but you weren't keen on being one of his pawns. Not anymore.

Juyeon was ready to kill the king, even if he had to die and in a way you both just wanted revenge and freedom. You had never been a killer but you were ready to die trying in order to end the rule of a tyrant and to save the guys who had become your comrades and friends over the past few days, weeks and anyone who had the same destiny as you. Nobody deserved to have their life hung by a thread of an ultimate made by one side.

So you decided to make a risky move, a reckless one as you reached for the dagger in your belt, throwing it at the smug man the next time he turned towards you. It was a hasty movement, surprising enough for the guards to rush to the king's side but Juyeon was right: your aim was shitty.

Instead of his chest, the dagger barely grazed the king's upper arm and fell onto the ground with a pathetic thud. The man just laughed as if it was funny and picked up your weapon, turning it against you. You gulped as you backed up until the wall. You heard Changmin yelling at you to run while trying to free himself from the guards but you couldn't move, you just stood there, frozen, and watched as the man lifted his hand to strike down at you with the blade. You flinched when he moved, closing your eyes like a coward and only opened them when you felt the man get wobbly in front of you, falling onto his knees from the dagger getting him from behind. Blood spilled from his mouth as his body shook before giving up the fight and you let out a relieved sigh. Such an unceremonious, simple way for a king to die but he didn't deserve more.

"Are you okay?" Juyeon asked, voice honeyed with care and even his dark eyes softened as he stepped closer to check on you, looking for bruises. The same eyes you noticed behind the king when he approached and you had to try your best not to show surprise and relief.

"Yeah. You got here just in time. How did you know?" you gaped at the guy and the others who fought off the guards in the meantime. If the king's bedroom was a trap, how did they get out?

"That man didn't have a limp. I realized he had been a fake one to begin with," he said simply as if it was natural but you had no idea the king had a limp up until now. You still tended to forget he had lived in the palace, close to the king in his childhood and now you tried to imagine him on a throne. It was easier than ever with you being in the throne room with a dead king but Juyeon had never had the ambitions to govern.

"Well, next time you could be faster," you teased, trying to lighten up the atmosphere and luckily, the team's leader didn't seem to mind. His smug smile was back and you would have rolled your eyes if he hadn't just saved your life.

"Will there be a next time? When you're being cornered by a man?" he raised an eyebrow challengingly, a little suggestively but instead of hitting him on the chest, you raised your chin and played the same game:

"Who knows? I keep getting into these situations since I got to know you," you tsked and there was no lie in there. Juyeon smiled at you, sincerely, his eyes holding a secret only the two of you knew but he was practically pushed aside when Changmin came to make sure you weren't hurt, mumbling something stupid about it being his fault.

Juyeon looked around, proud to see his men fight for the same cause and their efforts paying off. When it was finally time for you to leave and start a new chapter in your life, you looked back on the empty throne and the bloody crown on the floor.

“We don’t need a king sitting high on his throne, it’s the time of dogs and wolves,” Juyeon muttered and outside, the Lotus Festival continued as if nothing happened. Smiling, you joined the celebrations.

So this is what it tasted like: freedom.

#the boyz x reader #juyeon x reader #the boyz x you #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #stories

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pastelsandpining · 3 years

Text

we’ll meet again

a rewriting to the ending of Ocarina of Time

words: 2347

warnings: angst. a lot of angst. read with caution

Masterlist

When the mangled body of the hog-like monster finally grows still, the sacred sword still hilt-deep in the crumpled corpse, Link knows then that it’s over. The years of sorrow, the loneliness of travel, everything that came with the heavy weight of pulling the world from the clutches of evil, is over. He withdraws the sword, but it takes an effort he didn’t think he had left. It’s heavier--or maybe it’s his limbs that are heavy, too exhausted to carry on any further. Adrenaline is a thing of the past and he takes two steps forward before his foot catches on a bit of loose debris. The Master Sword, his tool of time and of protection, slips to the soiled ground with a clang, and he’s following it. Part of him, the part too used to victories never meaning an end, expected the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

The only thing that wraps around him, catching him from hitting the rocky ground still levitating above the chasm of chaos, is a sea of gentle pink and purple tones. The touch is feather soft and strong enough to ground him all at once, and no longer is the world spinning, or burning in a sea of despair. It’s a comfort he hasn’t known since Saria—over seven years ago, but it feels like so much longer that he’s been craving it.

“Princess,” he greets in a hoarse, broken whisper. It’s swallowed by the fabric of her dress.

“Oh, Link,” she says, and it’s enough to make him lean his head against her chest. When her face finds his shoulder and he feels the warmth of her exhale on his neck, he chokes out a sob and digs his filthy, glove-covered fingers into the satin of the dress covering her back. He isn’t worthy of her touch or her comfort, but he’s too brokenly grateful to let her go.

Seven years of nothing and a mere two of shadow, of death and destruction and desolation, comes to an end, a result of nothing more than a man given too much power to handle, and Link does not feel the relief or the lifted weight that one would expect. All he feels is the suffocating fear that the body would move again, or that the crystal would encase her, and he would find himself stuck in a never ending cycle of heroic trauma.

But the arms of the princess are steady and she whispers another phrase, two of the simplest words that bear a heavy importance: “Thank you.”

He wonders what bit of her magic is responsible for how she still smells so good after running down several swirling cliffs and through burning, stuffy rooms. A vague realization hit him that he must smell awful, but he supposes it doesn’t matter when the world has been ending for the past nine years. His fingers are stiff when he tries to move them. He doesn't realize just how tightly he’s been holding onto her, or how hard they’re both shaking. He flattens his hands against her back, inhales her scent, loosens his arms, and relaxes his shoulders. His leg still stings from where Ganon’s blade had caught him, but it’s dull and doesn’t matter right now.

When he finds the strength to lift his head, everything around him is blue.

It’s a stark contrast to the dark skies that plagued Hyrule for months. It’s so different from the moody interior of blackstone walls and towering mirrors with grotesque mosaics of thirst and power. It’s too bright for his eyes, even if all he wants to look at is her. They’re still kneeling on the ground, except there’s nothing visible beneath them. Blue skies and cotton clouds stretch as far as he can see. The Master Sword is still there, telling him whatever’s holding them up is solid enough, and he reaches blindly for it when he finally retracts his arms. He drives the tip into the transparent (or maybe, reflective) ground and hauls himself up with a wince. It takes a minute for the spinning to stop. When he’s steady again, he extends a hand to her.

She takes it, gentle and promising, and Link helps Princess Zelda to her feet.

“Where…” he tries to ask, but her eyes soften and he no longer has a voice.

“Nowhere,” she replies. He feels her hold on his hand tighten. “We’re in a moment between time, a space away from Hyrule. I figured you, of all people, deserve an explanation.”

For all of his senseless meddling with time, he understood none of what she’d said. Thinking about it gave him a headache, so he didn’t. But why would he need an explanation?

“There’s no explanation worth saying,” he says, shaking his head.

“People go to great lengths when they have been wronged. You are one of them. I was so young, too naive to know what would happen. It was my plan that put you through so much and for that, I’m sorry.”

She looks so sad. It claws into his heart and tries to pull it out. Link shakes his head again, more desperately, and covers her hand with his.

“It’s an honor to help you, Princess,” he argues, as if he could make her forgive herself through the sheer force of will. “I would do it again and again.”

“Because you are kind and courageous. It’s in your blood, to be a hero.”

To be her hero, which was something he couldn’t say aloud.

“I feel empty,” he admits into the stretch of silence. “What happens now that it’s over?”

Because stories are not real. Stories that end with a suddenly happy life, like there was never any threat at all, never sit right with him. What’s a hero’s purpose once the villain is defeated? Princess Zelda, in all of her wisdom and power, is the only person who could answer that.

“What do you want to happen?” she asks.

Link frowns. If he’s honest, he’s never expected an ending. Logically, he knows he couldn’t go on forever. Either he would succeed or he would die trying, but it lasted for so long that the idea of a life after the war was nothing more than a fantasy. Now, with the prospect in front of him and just out of reach, he doesn’t know what he wants. He thinks of the forest, of Saria and of his friends, and knows that having it back is not an option. Even if it was, he knows it wouldn’t be the same.

He thinks about the contrast between the past and the present. He thinks about the lively people and colors and animals that once filled Castle Town to the brim, and the ghost town inhabited only by reanimated corpses that it’d become. He thinks of the civilizations he’s met—the Gorons, the Zora, and how devastated they were destined to be. He thinks of the woman in front of him, the princess with which this all started, and believes that she does not deserve to bear the burden of destruction alone.

He also doesn’t think he’s been asked that before. It’s always been, you must do this, and so he doesn’t know what it is that he wants.

“Is peace an option?” he asks, because he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to quiet the chaos in his head.

“That’s a complicated question,” Princess Zelda replies. Her hands slip from his and he aches with the urge to take them again. “Can you have peace without conflict? Are they really so easy to seperate? Hyrule was peaceful because a civil war brought about chaos. This moment in time is peaceful because you’ve laid to rest a terrible evil. I wish I could grant you what you seek.”

He wants to shrug, brush off her words like there was nothing profound or truthful behind them, but for all his courage, not even he could disrespect the princess. She does not deserve that. Instead, he asks,

“What do you want, Princess?”

Her reply comes fast, with a small and pained smile, “I’m afraid what I want isn’t something you can give me, Hero.”

He doesn’t like that title, Hero. Why can’t he be Link, nothing more, nothing less? For the same reason she can’t simply be Zelda, he supposes, and leaves it there with a frown.

“Is it that bad?” he asks. She shakes her head.

“I want, more than anything, for my people to be spared the suffering that Ganondorf-- that I have put them through. I want to undo my mistake, take back my meddling in something I was too young to understand. I want to restore everything that was, before the world ended.”

It’s a bold desire. Link understands where she’s coming from, because it was easier before the world ended. Back when his only struggle was wondering why he didn’t have a fairy like the rest of the Kokiri children. With all the power that Princess Zelda had, surely it was not impossible.

“You could go back to before,” he suggests, gripping the sword a little tighter.

“I could,” she agrees, “but I would leave so much behind.”

Link furrows his brows and takes a look at their surroundings. What would she be leaving behind? Did she not lose her entire kingdom? There must’ve been something he was missing, something he couldn’t see.

“I don’t understand,” he admits at last, turning his gaze to the Master Sword. “What’s left to lose?”

When he looks back up, Princess Zelda’s eyes are wet. He frowns again, wishing there was any sort of comfort he could offer her.

“I would lose you,” she says, and he feels his heart stop in his chest, “and the friendship we’ve built, and the lessons I’ve learned. Neither are worth giving up. It’s a difficult decision I don’t know how to make.”

Link doesn’t know what to say, so he extends a hand to her in a gesture he can only hope will provide some sort of comfort. When she takes it, he averts his eyes and busies himself looking around at what he could see of the ruined kingdom. He can’t pretend to know how she feels. Right now, he has nothing but her to keep him going. He’s outgrown his friends, his purpose has been fulfilled, what more is there for him to do? He could support Princess Zelda in whatever decision she makes, but even so, what could he do for her, really? Perhaps if there was any remnant of the kingdom that wasn’t fractured, they could rebuild, but at what cost? The expense of exhaustion and of the resources they didn’t have was too great. He knows nothing about governing, or anything else he might be required to do if he stayed with her--and gods, did he want to stay.

For her, he doesn’t think it’s much of a sacrifice at all. A kingdom of thousands of people is worth more than one lowly man. He does not know how to read. It was a silly thing, to be as old as him and not know how to do one of the simplest things. Navi’s done it for him for as long as she’s been around, and he doesn’t think someone who can’t read or write would make for a good companion in a time of need. He can be taught, but the time it would take simply wasn’t worth it.

He brings her gloved hand to his mouth, offers a kiss to her knuckles, and before he knows it, he’s pressing the Ocarina of Time into her hands.

“Your kingdom,” he says, “it needs you.”

“Link,” and she shakes her head and sounds broken but he presses further.

“You’re brilliant and just, and you deserve your fair reign over your people. Please, Princess, you deserve something for yourself.”

“Is a lifelong companion not good enough?” she asks. He feels her grip on the instrument tighten beneath his fingers.

“No. You have the chance to undo it all. Why settle with the cards you’ve been given?”

“I..”

She doesn’t look sure. Link has to admit that the idea is scary. Resetting the timeline was… difficult. It would undo everything he’s done up until now, reducing it to nothing more than a few years of bad dreams, and that idea made him feel sick. The possibility of never knowing her scared him more.

“We can get back what we lost,” he tries to convince her anyway. “You didn’t get to be a child.”

“Neither did you,” she argues, stepping closer. “Why should I get what you never had?”

“Then make it so we both get it.”

Her blue eyes narrow as she looks up at him. He doesn’t back down. The silence is pregnant and her gaze is intense, but he knows what he wants and it’s for her to get the chance she deserves. Backing down is not an option, no matter how much he wants to tell her that she can have whatever she wants from him.

“Link,” she says at last, freeing her hands so she could hold the ocarina to her chest. He thinks she wants to say something else, but she settles for, “Are you sure?” and he nods quickly, despite the tears he can feel stinging in his eyes.

“Go home,” he insists, lifting a hand to gently hold her face, “and I promise I’ll come find you.”

She smiles up at him, mumbling something about keeping the promise, and all he can do is smile back. When she lifts the ocarina to her mouth, Link decides simply to watch her until the arms of time take him back, away from her again but not for long.

When he comes to, in the Temple of Time, with the sword in the pedestal and his hands too small to hold it properly, that’s when Navi takes her leave. Link, renewed with the vigor of youth, turns around and runs towards the castle, as fast as his little legs can carry him.

#zelink #oot zelink #ocarina of time #ocarina of time zelink #my writing

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ryujin-zanba · 4 years

Text

i realise given the notes that some of y'all are actually interested in reading what the newspaper articles say in this post so here they all are under the cut (please keep in mind that a lot of them contain personal headcanons and some hints at certain pairings which i will tag. it's okay if you disagree with/dislike the thoughts i have ab some characters' futures but if you find that's the case just keep it to yourself and dni please) ʕ•ᴥ•ʔง

[Poster which says: Vote for Froppy 🐸]

(Not so subtle Napoleon Dynamite reference from me)

Hero Red Riot Saves the Day an Hour Before His Wedding! As expected of our favourite man in red, but what did the groom have to say about this? (The groom is Bakugou and he was proud of Kiri ❤)

Pro Weekly Deku takes title of Japan’s number one hero third year running! Following in the shadow of the longest reigning number one hero, newcomer Deku has a lot to live up to, but he is already breaking records and impressing critics with his heroism, and fans just can’t get enough of him. In only his third year as a licensed pro, Deku has managed some incredible feats and is shaping up to give the former number one quite a run for his legacy. The retired pro recently shared in an interview that he could not be more proud of his junior and that he is cheering for our new number one the whole way.

A New Ingenium Takes the Mantle But what can we expect of our dashing (pun intended) new pro? The youngest son of the Iida family is following in his brother’s footsteps as he officially takes on the name and the legacy of beloved hero Ingenium.

Lemillion Saves One Million Golden hero Lemillion reclaims his position among the top five pros in only his first week back. After participating in the saving of a suspected one million lives involved in an international hostage crisis, Lemillion saw a 100% popularity increase in the polls and has been recognised by several world leaders for his incredible display of heroism. Lemillion has recently returned to hero work after taking a year off for paternity leave last Summer. A brief interview with the pro revealed that husband and baby are both doing well and their little one is already starting to show signs of developing a strong quirk.

(Mirio’s husband is Tamaki ❤)

Former U.A Students Pay Tribute to Late Mentor Yagi Toshinori How the world is mourning a great hero and the people closest to him are upholding his legacy.

[Accompanying image of Toshi in his pinstripe suit, tired but smiling]

Not All Heroes Wear Capes U.A high graduate goes on to make major advances in the field of restorative medical science. Eri, formerly of U.A high school, is currently completing her doctorate at Tokyo University and is expecting to graduate this year with her first PHD. Her influence in the field, however, has already sparked plans for the implementation of several quirk-specialised branches in every major hospital across the country, a system speculated to be fully functioning as soon as next Spring. Having already successfully treated several prominent heroes throughout her blossoming career, we can expect many great things from Eri in the future and wish her all the best with her final exams.

[Crude cat drawing next to the text 1-A]

(Reference to Aizawa’s cat drawing that he put on a banner for his class during the sports festival in Smash, which he then hid from them)

[Magazine cover of Yaoyorozu with the top text ‘Women in Business’ and the bottom text ‘Creati’]

Shouto-Out Former pro hero Shouto retires at age twenty five in order to pursue a career in nursing. After the new data that came to light last month showed an incline in children born to forced quirk marriages, the ex-pro expressed his interest in becoming involved with caring for and counselling the startling number of those taken into care every year as a result. His partner had this to say, “Shouto has had a lot of difficulty finding a path in life that he believes he truly chose for himself, but I think this is his way of being the hero he wants to be and he has my full support.”

(If you guessed Midoriya as Todoroki’s partner being quoted in this, you guessed right!)

Hero affectionately dubbed ‘Pikachu’ by residents of local children’s hospital

(Kaminari, of course ⚡)

Present Jack Pro hero and musical talent Earphone Jack has officially joined the Put Your Hands Up Radio team. Rumours that she is set to succeed Japan’s favourite radio personality have already started circulating, but we’re pretty sure the nation’s sweetheart, Present Mic, has got many years yet before we’ll see him retire.

[Magazine cover featuring Midoriya with the top text ‘Deku’]

Uravity Saves US Space Shuttle First person in history to be awarded a knighthood by NASA and her achievements haven’t stopped there. The hero known as Uravity is a staunch advocate for the proposed universal income scheme and her support for the bill has garnered such enthusiasm from fans that it is likely to pass in court this February.

(In the image I accidentally called her Uraravity instead of Uravity, sorry girl!)

He’s Still Got It! Present Mic wins lifetime achievement award for Put Your Hands Up Radio, the show he has been proudly presenting since his debut as a hero. Maintaining a huge following and unwavering popularity, his nighttime slot every Friday from 1am to 5am has also earned him a place in the hall of fame for highest number of consecutive awards in radio hosting history, congrats man!

(Mic might not be one of Aizawa’s students, but he is just as proud of his husband’s achievements ❤)

Tsukuyomi Gets His Wings Tsukuyomi and his quirk, Dark Shadow, have officially taken over at Hawks’ agency after the young hero retired from the field to pour everything into his successor. As it stands, Hawks will continue on to support Tsukuyomi and we wish them both the best with any future plans from here on.

(Possible spoiler for latest manga chapters... but I think the bird man might be taking a leaf from All Might’s book and finding someone to carry on his legacy 😅)

Kacchan’s Kitchen Newly opened in the most up and coming area of the city, the restaurant will join several others on the renewed marina-front, though its owner and head chef are what really set the place apart. Already it has received great reviews from critics.

(Personal HC alert! Bakugou decides the hero life isn’t what he wants anymore and invests in his culinary skills instead, making Kiri a very well-fed man lol)

Dance ‘Til You’re Pink! Pro hero Pinky opens a second dance studio that offers new prospects for passionate kids who are unable to attend paid classes. Children from low-income families are invited to choose from a variety of options when it comes to which discipline they wish to pursue and all equipment, performance outfits and other costs are covered by the studio.

The Modern Batman Or should we say Catman? Illusive hero known only by his mind-control ability is spotted petting a local cat during his evening patrol.

[Accompanying image of Shinsou petting a black cat and looking almost identical to Aizawa in his attire]

#i should have done this anyway but i didn't think my art would get that much attention so ty everyone!#kiribaku #tododeku #erasermic #miritama #dadzawa #class 1 a headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #my wriiting

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felassan · 3 years

Note

Hi!

Thank you so much for posting all the interesting stuff from the book on here! I was just wondering if you think we will be playing as a Lord of Fortune in the next DA game?

I think we will from the mention in the book about DA4 and the description of them being good with disguises and stuff from Tevinter Nights but what do you think??

Hi Nonnie, you’re welcome. This answer is under a cut due to length. Tevinter Nights spoilers under cut.

I’ve definitely wondered about the possibility before (Tevinter Nights spoilers at link)! My speculation is that we’re in for either a Lord of Fortune companion or possibly a Lord of Fortune PC / PC background (or background option) in the next game. As you say, post-TN the Lords have been ‘flagged up’ again now with the caption in the book (“Where there’s treasure, there’s adventurers braving death to get it. The Lords of Fortune are always on the hunt for treasures - wherever it might be”). The companion feels like the more likely of the two but I do think it could work well for a player character. Paraphrasing a bit from the linked post, with a few additions:

Lords can be humans, elves and dwarves at least. I don’t see why a Tal-Vashoth or Vashoth horned person couldn’t join either, and with the general Qunari presence in Rivain there’s proximity. So there’s the race selection

They can be male, female or other genders, so there’s gender

They’re warriors (Mateo) and rogues with different specialties. I don’t see why a mage couldn’t join either, especially since TN gives us an example of a mage who, while not a Lord, is also a thief and uses their magic in that, and the Lords seem to be about skill and merit. Plus Rivain have some different views on magic and mages. So there’s class and specializations

It seems like people from other countries in Thedas can also join too as Hollix essentially offers to the Tevinter girl. All this kind of stuff is a solid lead-in for CC and space for RP, both in-game expressions of it and headcanon

Hero of Ferelden, Champion of Kirkwall, Herald of Andraste, Lord of Fortune. Not a bad PC title either, and the “Lord” part in LoF is gender-neutral

RP flexibility: someone could have joined up for any one of a number of different reasons - adventure/thrills/fun, fame, fortune, glory, history buffs, to earn money, to be doing a job that isn’t a life of drudgery or mundane, to see the world and the sights all over Thedas, and for common thieves and similar folks it could be a way of advancing, putting their skills to use, doing something more ‘glamorous’ or getting off the streets (their situation-depending). Bharv had a farm and a family while being an active Lord and planned to retire after being in the game for like 40 years. Herold had previously done naval service before joining. Hollix was in the circus before joining. Again lots of room for RP and variance, there’s more to them than ‘just another merc faction’

the live service elements could involve jobs, heists, monster hunts and stuff? some kind of mechanic based around that and a Lord’s reputation?

Solas definitely could know of them but so far there’s no indication that he does (“find people he doesn’t know”), whereas it’s specifically mentioned that he has knowledge of a whole bunch of the other factions

As a new faction to us it would be something new, fresh and interesting for the PC to be part of

They usually act solo or in pairs/small groups, so there’s the “here’s why you aren’t going about in a group of Lords or getting help from your whole faction” stuff (I’m thinking of the story reasons that were set up which explain why the Hero and Alistair are the only Wardens in DAO)

The accessories and trinkets and stuff = customization

Being a Lord also gives the PC a reason to be knowledgeable about history, Deep Roads, ancient ruins, artifacts and for dungeoneering, travel and monster fighting. Those are things handy for Generic RP Protagonist in general but also, some of them are going to be useful things to have in the conflicts to come (history, Deep Roads, ruins, artifacts)

It sounds like the next PC is going to be a nobody initially or largely anyway, rather than someone in a role like the one the Inquisitor occupied, so this point might be moot, but - it would also be more sensical for why the PC is going around doing the quest they’re doing. A lot of DAI is like “Why is one of the most important people in the world currently doing all this busywork? They have an army of goons they could be sending out and tasking with doing this stuff”. I mean, we do do that delegation with the War Table and everything, and it was important to build the Inquisition’s power and for the Herald to be seen around, but y’know? A Lord of Fortune is a bit more like a Geralt-type, going around doing side quest-style contracts for people. So side-questing could feel more natural

Semi-related, there’s also the fact that DA4 sounds like it’s going to be a story of someone who’s the opposite of the Inquisitor - someone unknown, from the bottom, with no power, or at least initially. The Lords are considered among the best treasure hunters in Thedas so they’re not nobodies, but you could be a ‘junior’ Lord who hadn’t been one for long and hadn’t made a name for themselves yet. I’d actually be quite interested in amassing the LoF display of worn-treasure, accessories and trinkets as the story progresses and the PC does more stuff

They’re based in Rivain and we’re going north

The LoFs as a faction might have their own knowledge and concerns about Solas (Mateo was on the shadow Inquisition’s Genetivi Expedition)

The shadow Inquisition know of them now via Mateo and Hollix

Their propensity for the covert/subterfuge type stuff - breaking and entering, thievery, roguey-stuff, disguises, stealth, deception and so on - would suit both the previous "spies and heists" version of the game and the whole Shadow Inquisition’s “we must operate secretly and below the radar to limit the possibility of Solas finding out about our plans" stuff

And it’s a decent way of getting a new unknown PC mixed up in the narrative - Lords travel all over Thedas, dungeoneering and everything, obtaining ancient artifacts, fighting monsters, protecting people on jobs. They take contracts. The shadow Inquisition have been hiring at least some people for work to do with their current efforts. Solas and his followers have been recruiting people. The shadow Inquisition have been looking for things that could stop him and Solas and his followers have also been looking for artifacts. I can totally see, like just for example, a Lord initially being like on a job or something trying to find some artifact that it also turns out that Solas’ people or the shadow Inquisition also want to get their hands on and so becoming caught up in everything that way, or knowingly or unknowingly being hired by either faction and it going from there

tl;dr I think a LoF companion is more likely but can def see how a LoF PC would work! A Vint Siccari also seems like a likely candidate for the PC, though I would rather the PC is not a slave or former slave.

Sorry for the scrappy nature of this post!

[The Future of BioWare - Tevinter Bound (2)]

[Mark Darrah’s Mysterious Red Book]

[Highlights and insights from the DA chapters]

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #dragon age #bioware #mj replies #anonymous #tevinter nights #tevinter nights spoilers #tevinter nights spoiler #spoilers #spoiler #video games #Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development spoilers #Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development spoiler #Bioware: Stories and Secrets from 25 Years of Game Development #solas #alistair theirin #fav warden

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astranne · 3 years

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FanFiction.net MASTERLIST

Here are the FanFiction I’ve read on FanFiction.net. Hope you’ll enjoy!

For each recommendation I’ve linked the story to the title and wrote/copied a little summary. Please remember that many stories are rated M or E, if not stronger. Read on your own risk!

justhugefangirl’s masterlist

fanfiction recommendation masterlist

Love’s Labour Found by Peanutbuttertoast1

The War may be over, but Hermione Granger's life is just starting as her true heritage is revealed. Being the Heir to the Throne of England and a real life Princess is just the beginning of Hermione's story...but how will the Wizarding World react when they learn the Golden Girl and Gryffindor Princess is really a real life Royal?

This fanfic os one of my favourites, read it already three times- I can’t. It’s perfect, okay? For me it’s perfect.

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A Witch in Gotham by Peanutbuttertoast1

After the Second Wizarding War, a curse rips through the Magical World, leaving devastation in its wake. Hermione Granger is tasked to find the reason, and the cure before more lives are lost. Retreating into the Muggle World to start over, Hermione finds her way to Gotham City as Mia Black, Head of the Black Foundation. Her decision to help the Batman changes her life forever.

A perfect crossover- honestly, this author is perfect. As well this story. I don’t link more of the authors work but there are some other ones which are just ... perfect.

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Mischief Managed by fringeperson

A man with black hair, green eyes and pale skin watched over a child with black hair, green eyes, pale skin, and a variant of the Elder Futhark rune Sowilo etched upon his brow.

Mischief Mastered (part of story)

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Green Eyes and Red Hair by fringeperson

He was a practical joker with messy black hair. She was a talented woman with bright red hair. It turned out that they both had green eyes. Their daughter, when she came, was untouchable for more reasons than one. Loki-is-James, Natasha-is-Lily, Rogue-is-Fem!Harry.

I love the relationship between Loki and Natasha :)

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Love on Her Arm by Eye Greater Than Three

During a trip to Gringotts, Hyacinthe Potter discovered she met her soulmate, William Weasley. Bill/Hyacinthe. female!Harry.

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The Winter Witch by Kneazle

Hermione realized it began with a sense of Impending Doom and finished with a battle outside her tent. The deciding line between staying and helping Robb Stark, or returning to her universe, is getting harder to see the longer she's in Westeros. But it's a decision that she has to make, or it's one that will be made for her. Part 1 & Part 2 complete! Part 3 now ongoing.

This... is one of my favourites crossovers,,, the slowburn between Hermione and Robb,,, and it’s so fluff,,, I’m such a sucker for dark stories but this is just pureness and ugh-

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Moratorium by Darkpetal16

Harry Potter could never be the hero. But, she might make a great villain. Satire. Parody. -COMPLETE- F!Harry Fem!Harry Gray!Harry.

Uhm- this is one of the darker fics I love. It’s very good written, cause of this I really don’t mind the ship fem!Harry x Tom Riddle

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A Life Twice Lifed by Nemesis13

Draco Malfoy died at the venerable age of 107, and who awaited him at the crossroads? His mother? His wife? No, it had to be his eccentric former rival, eventual best friend, and far too often partner in chaos Harry Potter. Oh, and of course he had a deal to offer Draco to live his life anew, and obviously there was a caveat to it all that he wasn't privy to, damn Potters.Fem!Draco

Ahh, Drarry. How I love this ship

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Persephone by dulce.de.leche.go

Better to be the right hand of the devil than in his path. Better still to be the consort of Hades than a part of his collection of souls. Ten years after Voldemort has won the war, Hermione reaches a breaking point and shreds the flow of time to change her future. If she can't change the world, she will change her place in it. Extremely dark Tomione/Volmione. Warnings inside.

As already written in the summary, this fic is hella dark. So if you don’t like dark fics (especially with all the warnings mentioned in the first chapters) don’t read. I still love it tho-

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The Muddy Princess by Colubrina

Just another Pureblood!Hermione story. A hidden adoption revealed, a brother found, a new world to figure out: "What are you hoping for?" he asked as they stood ready to do the spell. "I don't know," Hermione admitted. "You?" His knuckles were white on his wand. "A sister," he said, his voice very low, "I'm hoping for a sister."

There are more stories from this author which are just- awesome and absolutly perfect, like the next ones. Since they have over 60, I won’t link every work here.

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Lady of the Lake by Colubrina

Hermione and Draco team up after the war to overthrow the Order and take over wizarding Britain. They have plans and they'll get power, but the cost of victory may be higher than they expected and more than they can bear. Dark Dramione. COMPLETE

This is perfection. Nothing more to say.

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Dark Cherry Chapstick by Colubrina

Hermione returns for an optional 8th year after the war and Draco Malfoy, also back at Hogwarts at his mother's request, notices she's changed. A brief dip into the 'makeover' trope AND the 'goth' trope in one fic. ONE SHOT. Dramione.

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The Green Girl by Colubrina

Hermione is sorted into Slytherin; how will things play out differently when the brains of the Golden Trio has different friends? AU. Darkish Dramione. COMPLETE

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The Last Peverell by animerocker 646

Being the Master of Death made life difficult, especially when you need to save all of magical Europe from inbreeding its way to extinction. At least Death was enjoying watching his Master attempt this over and over again. Harry didn't find it nearly as entertaining. Well, tenth times the charm right? (FemHarry)

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Soft, Low, English Accent by Tsume Yuki

'God, you've got a beautiful voice.' Hariel always found it funny, that of all the things her soulmate could take note of -the messy hair, the bright green eyes, the scar- it's her voice he points out first. FemHarryxMatt

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Bless the Broken Road by Tempestas D. Uzu

Her resolve crumbled in the face of Pietro Maximoff's scruffy good looks and warm blue eyes, and she found herself falling for another person who would be doomed to die for her selfishness. (One Shot)(fem!HarryXPietro)(cannon-divergent)(full warnings inside)

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The Death of Natasha Romanoff by Philosophize

While helping to stop Stane, Natasha encounters a face she never thought she'd see again. Forced to deal with memories, decisions, and a life she thought she'd long left behind, will she survive the emotional upheaval, not to mention the rampaging, homicidal Stane? Or will she have to face her fears & transform herself, becoming once again what she once was? AU; fem!Harry; femslash

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Code Of Conduct by tlyxor1

A year after the war, Gwen Potter joins SHIELD. It's a life in the shadows, and a perpetual dance with death, but for the Witch Who Won, SHIELD - and Clint Barton - is exactly what she needs. She just doesn't know it yet. AU. Clint/Gwen. Fem!Harry. Pre-MCU. Post-Hogwarts, Post OOTP. Discontinued.

It already says it’s not finished,,, but oh well- I still liked it.

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The Almost Forgotten Marriage Contract of 1763 by worldtravellingfly

What would you do when suddenly confronted with a 200+ years old marriage contract by a teen and her lawyer? Run for the hills? Call the nice guys with the white jackets? Certainly not - agree? Well, Tony Stark always was a bit unique.

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Some Hearts by sakurademonalchemist

Robin Black was a bound witch. However, as the new Mistress of Death she was able to break free to Asgard and prepare to reap her vengeance. What she didn't count on was falling for a certain green-eyed, silver-tongued God of Mischief or being hit by Time Sand before the war restarted. Can she make her way back to Loki, or will she be stuck on Earth? FEM HARRY! YOU WERE WARNED!

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A Man of Honor by bloomsburry-dhazel

One day, Lyanna Stark discovers an unconscious man in the Wolfswood. Not knowing who he is, she takes him back to Winterfell where he is nurse back to health... Steve Rogers can't remember what happened to him, or how he ends up there, but he does remember who he is. He is Captain America, and somehow he has become Lyanna Stark's sworn shield.

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The Origin of The Black Widow by The Black Shadowx

The story of how the Black Widow became to be. detailed description of her life in the Red Room and what happened when she defected. this is my own creation so if things appear that is not in the comics thats the reason. i don't things can ever be too far stretched so excuse me if it gets weird. DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING TO DO WITH MARVEL . WRITTEN FOR ENTERTAINMENT ONLY

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will be updated...

#masterlist #fanfiction #fanfiction.net #harry potter #marvel #dc #crossovers #got #game of thrones #honestly #why do i even put tags here #justhugefangirl recommends {📑}#fanfiction recommendation {📚}#justhugefangirl creates {🌹}

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ibijau · 4 years

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Lan Xichen needs a husband

Sometimes you rush through writing 2k of fem!lxc needing a husband so the Lan elders won’t bother her about being a female sect leader, and deciding that her Da-Ge’s little brother is the least awful option she can think of.

blaming @theivorywriter for accidentally putting that idea in my brain

It took all of Lan Xichen’s willpower to keep smiling as a servant announced her presence to the three men in the room. The instant the door closed again and she was alone with them, the smile dropped.

“I was going to say it’s nice to see you,” Nie Mingjue commented, “but I guess the feeling isn’t mutual?”

“I am furious,” Lan Xichen replied, “but not at you. It’s the elders.”

Jin Guangyao, ever the perfect host even though Qinghe was no longer his home, poured some tea for her while Nie Huaisang hurried to position a chair between her sworn brothers.

“Did they change their mind again?” Nie Mingjue asked, pushing a plate of sweets her way as she sat down. “Your brother won’t be fit for his duties for months and after what he’s done in Nightless City, nobody would trust him anyway.”

“Wangji cannot remain sect leader, they are not questioning that,” she replied with a sigh. He never wanted to be one, she didn’t add. “But they are unsure about giving me the title. A frail woman, one so young at that, they doubt I could ever handle the pressure.”

Nie Huaisang, sitting in a corner away from them, snorted from behind his book. His brother shot him an angry look, while Jin Guangyao nodded in sympathy.

He knew better than the other two the pain of being dismissed over an accident of birth. He had seen how hard she had worked to organise things behind the scene during the Sunshot Campaign while her brother played the tragic hero and fought the Wens alongside Jiang Cheng. Not that Lan Xichen hadn’t seen her share of battles, hadn’t also earned her title in blood and fire.

“I am sorry that they underestimate you so,” Jin Guangyao said. “Xichen-Jie is more capable than many men I know. But who would they give the title to if not you? Your uncle?”

“They tried. He refused. Uncle is my main proponent at this point,” Lan Xichen sighed. “No, their new idea is far more perverse in a way: they want me to be married, so I can have a man to guide me.”

It gave her some comfort that both of her sworn brothers appeared appropriately annoyed by the news. The elders might dismiss her every chance they had, but these two heroes saw her as an equal and were quite vocal about it.

“Stupid,” Nie Mingjue grumbled. “You’ll have your uncle helping, and that’s more than enough. What would you do with a husband?”

Again, Nie Huaisang was heard trying to contain a bout of laughter and Lan Xichen, who could guess where his thoughts had gone, found her cheeks heat up a little. Thankfully, neither of her sworn brothers appeared to notice.

“Have they already decided on who they want you to marry?” Jin Guangyao asked, oddly tentative.

“I’ve been given a list of names to consider, but I am allowed to make suggestions,” Lan Xichen explained. “I’m sure anyone I offer up would be promptly rejected though. If I cannot be trusted to rule my sect, I certainly cannot be trusted to choose my own husband. I do not think a single man on their list is under sixty, and they are all inner circle Lans.”

It was not that Lan Xichen had any dislike for the idea of marrying someone within her sect. It was a wasted chance for a political alliance, but it meant living with someone who already knew how to bear with the rigidity of Gusu Lan’s rules, something spouses found outside the sect often struggled with at first. On the other hand, all these old men were related to her to some degree.

They were all, also, very old.

Lan Xichen had learned early on that she should not expect too much from her future marriage, but she had always hoped to at least marry someone her age, or only a few years older. It had seemed like such a reasonable expectation to have, especially with so few girls born within the Great Sects in her generation, and so many young men in need of a spouse, but apparently she wouldn’t even get that.

“Maybe we could help Xichen-jie find some less unpleasant alternatives,” Jin Guangyao politely offered. “There are many fine cultivators out there, surely if we all work together, we can find someone that might work better than your grandfather’s cousins.”

“I would be so grateful to Er-Di and Da-Ge for their help,” Lan Xichen replied.

“Then let’s get thinking.”

Before all else, they gave consideration to the Four Great Sects.

If anyone could have fit in Gusu Lan, Lan Xichen would have already tried. In fact she had thrown a few names for the elders to think of, only to be denied each time.

Yunmeng Jiang was quickly eliminated as well. None of its disciples came from a background prestigious enough, and as for its leader… Jiang Cheng would hardly have been an option at the best of time (“he’ll want his wife to enter his sect, and he wants her to have a mild personality,” Nie Huaisang assured them) but at the moment he was still mourning the bitter loss of his sister and it would have been in bad taste to offer a marriage to him.

Qinghe Nie had a few men the right age from minor branches of the main clan, but Nie Mingjue and Nie Huaisang quickly pointed out that their personalities were too proud and loud to fit Lan Xichen’s need for a husband who wouldn’t stand out too much.

A similar problem would be found with a husband coming from Lanling Jin. The young masters from that sect would never allow for their wife to stand higher than them, and anyway Jin disciples always had troubles with the lifestyle of Cloud Recesses.

With this settled, they took a look at smaller sects, but with little more success. This young master was already engaged, that one had a bad temper, another had a reputation for being untrustworthy, one might have fit her but would never be accepted by the elders… there was always a problem which either Jin Guangyao or Nie Huaisang would point out.

After a few hours of discussion, they ran out of possible husbands for Lan Xichen. She felt very disheartened that no one seemed to fit. Her own demands were small (a good personality, unambitious but still clever enough to be able to support her when needed) but the elders would not be easily satisfied (they would demand high birth, a good political alliance, good cultivation, good education, good manners, mastery of the six arts, good looks, and plenty more).

Nie Mingjue still wouldn’t give up and was trying to think of distant sects that might fit, but Jin Guangyao, ever pragmatic, tried to comfort her instead.

“I would offer myself, but…”

Lan Xichen smiled at him and shook her head.

“We are sworn siblings,” she reminded him. “It would be very odd to marry you after such an oath. I would much rather keep you as a brother, A-Yao.”

Not least of all because she wanted a husband with as little ambition as possible so he wouldn’t try to claim power from her and relegate her to the shadows. Lan Xichen loved her younger sworn brother dearly, but she knew they both shared the bitter experience of being forced aside by stubborn old men, the will to prove themselves in spite of it. It had brought them closer. She would not let it tear them apart.

Thankfully, Jin Guangyao looked as though he had expected that rejection.

“It’s hopeless,” Nie Mingjue grunted. “Who haven’t we considered… Huaisang?”

It took Lan Xichen a few seconds to realise that her sworn brother was not suggesting his half-brother as a candidate, but only asking if Nie Huaisang might have other suggestions.

She turned to look at the young man. He had set aside his book, and appeared to be considering the problem with great seriousness. In fact, all of his remarks so far had been spot on. He was polite and clever enough when he wanted, but suffered from an acute lack of interest in politics and cultivation that made him as unambitious as a young master could ever be. He was the Second Master of Qinghe Nie and while Gusu Lan already had an alliance with them, it never hurt to further strengthen that. He also fit in her criteria for age. Beside, and while that was not something Lan Xichen ought to have considered as important, he was also not too unpleasant to look at, though he was rather short. It would look funny when he would stand at her side, since she was already taller than most men, but she could live with that.

“Da-Ge?”

“Yes?”

“You have not started looking for a wife for your brother, have you?” Lan Xichen asked, keeping her eyes on Nie Huaisang to check his reaction.

It was a strong one to say the least. Nie Huaisang’s eyes opened wide in surprise, his entire face quickly turning a bright shade of red as he stared back at Lan Xichen.

“Xichen-Jie shouldn’t tease like that!” he spluttered, quickly opening his book again and hiding behind it, apparently not noticing it was upside down. “I’ve been trying to help, too, and now you’re being mean!”

That sounded encouraging, Lan Xichen decided. He wasn’t outright rejecting the idea or laughing to her face. She turned to Nie Mingjue, who gave her a very serious look.

“I haven’t really had time to think about marrying him off,” he said. “Things have been complicated enough and it never felt urgent. He’s never asked for it, anyway.”

“Is San-Di not interested in marriage?” Jin Guangyao inquired.

From behind his book, Nie Huaisang muttered something that they did not quite catch.

“Enunciate,” his brother barked at him.

“I said it does not matter whether I’m interested or not!” Nie Huaisang muttered. “And… and you three really need to stop teasing me like that! It’s not nice from you! Xichen-Jie’s elders would never let her marry me. Don’t you remember how bad my grades were in Cloud Recesses? Because they won’t have forgotten! They will say I’m unfit to stand behind their sect leader!”

A fair point to bring up, Lan Xichen thought. He really was smarter than he tried to appear. He also wasn’t saying ‘I don’t like her’ or ‘I don’t want to’ or ‘I’d never’ about the idea of marrying her. For some reason, that pleased her. If he had really hated the idea, Nie Huaisang was earnest enough that it would have been his first protest.

“San-Di makes a good argument,” Jin Guangyao sighed. “He could fit your criteria, but not the elders’. So we are back to…”

“There’s always the option of forcing their hand,” Lan Xichen mused. “They would hate it but… I know uncle will do everything to avoid becoming sect leader, so there will be little choice for them.”

“What do you have in mind?” Nie Mingjue asked, sounding a little doubtful but not outright disapproving.

“Nothing at all unless you agree to it,” Lan Xichen promised. “It is only a thought. But… of everyone we have considered today, your brother is the only one to whom I find no objections.”

That statement must have surprised Nie Huaisang, who lowered his book a little and gaped at her, his face somehow even redder now. Their eyes met, and with a panicked little noise Nie Huaisang raised the book again. He still wasn’t protesting though.

“I don’t like the idea of going behind your elders’ backs and imposing on them a marriage they would disapprove of,” Nie Mingjue said, before grimacing slightly. “I also do not like the way they are treating you, though. You don’t need a husband to be a good sect leader, you’ve more than proven you’re capable of making good decisions. I suppose Huaisang wouldn’t bother you too much while you do your job. Wouldn’t help you much either, though.”

“I’d help plenty!” Nie Huaisang protested, peeking over the cover of his book. “I help you, don’t I? I can be useful if I have to!”

“So you would agree to marry me if it came to that?” Lan Xichen asked, feeling her cheeks heat up at the idea.

Nie Huaisang quickly hid again. “Better me than someone who would bother Xichen-Jie and treat her badly!” he squeaked. “If I can help Xichen-Jie, then… then of course I would!”

At these words, Lan Xichen felt her heart beat faster, and she knew she had to be blushing for certain. Even if it was only political scheming, it was the first time someone professed an interest in marrying her, and she was not unaffected.

“So all three of you agree,” Jin Guangyao summarised with an amused smile. “Then the only problem left is how to push for this in a way that the Lan elders cannot dismiss, but without harming Xichen-Jie’s reputation. It will require some careful planning to figure this out.”

“That’s why we’ve got you,” Nie Mingjue pointed out. “Put that scheming brain of yours to good use for once and find us something.”

Normally, Lan Xichen would have objected to that aggressivity and tried to smoothen things between her sworn brothers. At the moment though, she was too preoccupied. She had spent the whole trip from Gusu to Qinghe resenting the idea that she would be forced to marry but now, glancing at Nie Huaisang who kept shyly peeking at her over his book…

It wasn’t an ideal situation, not by far, but if Jin Guangyao could find a way to make this work, Lan Xichen wouldn’t be too unhappy to marry after all.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #sometimes I have needs to write random shit you know?#might try to expand someday but I have no idea how they'd convince the elders so lol probably I won't #jau writes #mdzs

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steves-on-a-plane · 4 years

Photo

Two Roads Diverged

Title: Two Roads Diverged SONG FIC: The Day I Died - Five For Fighting Words: 2343 (2090 without lyrics) Pairing: Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter Author’s Note: This song came up under my suggested songs on Apple Music and as I listened to it, it just really gave me Steve and Peggy vibes. I wasn’t a huge fan of how Endgame tied up Steve’s story but as I wrote this, I took a linear look at his relationship with Peggy and it helped me understand that version of Steve a little bit better.

“Give me your coordinates. I’ll find a you a safe landing site.” The voice of Agent Margaret Carter ordered. The sounds came out muffled and crackling through the speaker on the plane’s console. That was 1940’s technology for you.

“There’s not gonna be a safe landing.” Captain Steve Rogers relayed regrettably from his seat in the cockpit. He fiddled with the plane’s controls. Steve was already strapped into the pilot’s chair and physically preparing for impact. “But I can try and voice it down.”

“I-I’ll get Howard on the line. He’ll know what to do.” Agent Carter insisted. Steve could hear the desperation in her voice, even through the cracking of the speaker.

“There’s not enough time.” Her told her, his voice never wavering. He told himself at the time that the level tone was for her sake, but the truth was it was just as much for his own. “This thing’s going down and it’s headed for New York.” There was dead air between them for several seconds before Steve laid out the only option. “I gotta put her in the water.”

“Please, don’t do this.” Agent Carter argued, sounding more desperate than Steve ever thought he’d live to hear. “We-we have time. We can work it out.”

“Right now, I’m in the middle of nowhere. If I wait any longer a lot of people are gonna die.” Steve disagreed. He needed to make her understand that the didn’t have any time at all. “Peggy, this is my choice.” Silence managed to push its way into the conversation again as Steve tugged at the yolk of the plane. The aircraft dipped down into a full-on nosedive, its trajectory headed straight for the icy water below. Neither one of them could bare disconnect communication with the other. There was still so much left unsaid between them. Some many things they’d never share.

“Peggy?” The Captain’s voice finally cracked slightly as the yolk shook in his hands. Though he hoped she’d never be able to tell through the speaker on her end.

“I’m here.” She responded, already sounding very far off.

“I’m gonna need a raincheck on that dance.” He said as his plane broke through the clouds. He was coming in fast. It wouldn’t be much longer now.

“Alright.” Peggy obliged, holding back tears. “A week next Saturday at the Stork Club. Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?”

“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.” He admitted. Trying to keep the conversation going. Again he convinced himself this was for her sake.

“I’ll show you how.” She promised. “Just be there.”

“We’ll have the band play something slow.” Steve agreed, the water felt only inches away now. “I’d hate to step on your…”

I woke up, you next to me. You said, “Good morning, are you free?” The sun crept in for one last time. I was alive the day I died. The clock struck noon but did not care.

No matter how much time passed, Steve couldn’t seem to shake the memories of that day. When he woke up thawed and miraculously alive sixty-six years later, he knew it couldn’t have been anything but divine intervention. It truly was a miracle to be alive, but Steve wasn’t so sure it was a good thing. Whether you called it fate, destiny, whatever, the same force that had brought Steve Rogers back to life was the same force that had forced him go in the first place.

It was just easier for Steve, who liked to think of himself as a simple man from a simpler time, to think of this force as God. And to Steve it seemed just so unfair that the same God who could curse him with so many childhood ailments could bless him with whatever it was that Dr. Erskine liked so much. The same God who brought the force of nature that was Peggy Carter into his life, could let the two of them be separated so absolutely. To the rest of America, the return of Captain America was a sign of good things to come, but to Steve it was a painful reminder of the man he’d never gotten to be.

Bzzzz. Bzzzzz. Steve looked at the mobile phone that vibrated across the desk in his room. The phone had been given to him by SHIELD Director Fury who had explained that landlines were as extinct in this time as he felt. He didn’t recognize the number, but he answered the phone anyway. It wasn’t like anyone he knew would be calling.

“Hello?” A female voice called cautiously into his ear.

“Hello?” He questions back. “This is Steve Rogers. Who is this?”

“Captain, my name is Sharon. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to call, but your condition was need to know and I wasn’t high enough on the chain of command. Anyway, I’m calling because I think my aunt would like to see you and I suspect you’d also like to see her again. You knew her as Peggy.” The woman on the phone explained.

I saw a child in my old chair. A shadow fell across your face, but all the years could not erase. I was alive. I was alive. You pulled me close. I held you tight. Though my smiles told a few lies, I was alive, the day I died.

Again, Steve found himself wondering how a God could bring him Peggy back, but not quite. Was this the curse he was destined to bare forever then? To always have what he wanted just out of reach? The love of his life was there with him but while Steve still looked the same Peggy had aged. She’d gone on and gotten married. She had a family, a life. For her it had been sixty-six years. It wasn’t her fault that to Steve it had felt like six minutes.

“You should be proud of yourself.” He told Peggy as he said by her bedside. He studied the photographs by her bedside at the nursing home. The Captain couldn’t help but think how lucky the man who’d been married to her must have been.

“Mmm.” Peggy hummed in agreement. “I have lived a life. My only regret is that you didn’t get to live yours. What is it?” She added, taking in his downcast expression.

“For as long as I can remember, I just wanted to do what was right.” He sighed, looking away from the photographs. “I guess, I’m just not quite sure what that is anymore.” Peggy laughed at him and Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He’d missed her laugh.

“You’re always so dramatic!” She commented between chuckles. “You saved the world. We rather mucked it up. The world has changed and none of us can go back. All we can do is our best. And sometimes the best that we can do, is to start over.”

I was the first to see a star. It seemed so close, it was so far. Wind started to roar. Screamed time to go. You know all you need. You know all you know. I was alive. I was alive. You pulled me close. I held you tight. And though our smiles told a few lies, I was alive the day I died.

She’s gone. In her sleep.

That’s what Sharon’s text had said. That was the message that Steve received to let him know that the love of his life had died. A simple five-word text. Steve looked around the room, the timing couldn’t have been worse. The Avengers were literally falling apart before his eyes. They were all there. Sam, Tony, Nat, everyone. Arguing over some bullshit restrictions that had no place even being considered in the first place. It was too much. But that was the future, or in this case the present. Everything was always too much too fast these days.

“I have to go.” Steve mumbled, getting up from his seat in the living room. He walked off without giving the others a chance to ask why. He was packed an on a plane to London within hours.

The service was everything one would expect from an international hero like Margaret Carter. Even down to the perfectly pitched choir of angelic singers. The family asked Steve to be a pallbearer and he was honored, even if they were just indulging an old man’s sentimentality. Sharon gave a moving eulogy and then it was over.

He was expected to just go on home. To pretend like the only person, he’d ever really loved wasn’t buried six feet under. He was expected to go back to New York and sign a bunch of documents saying that the government had the right to tell him and the others like him if, when and how they were allowed to save people. The entire thing didn’t sit right with Steve. He couldn’t stomach it, the entire idea of someone else being in control of his future.

Steve Rogers had let people tell him who he was his entire life. That ended today.

“Sometimes, the best we can do is to start over.” He whispered to himself. Steve Rogers had let people tell him who he was his entire life. That ended today. He was done being the monkey in the suit who danced when they called. Steve slipped out of the church and disappeared from the public eye for three years.

Oh, Sweet Angel you call. Oh, Sweet Angel you call. Oh, Sweet Angel. White went black. Black went white. Universe cracked. I saw the light. You called my name. I did not respond. But I heard you well, carried you on.

“You have to return the stones to the exact moment we got ‘em or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.” Dr. Banner explained to Steve. He flicked open the briefcase where all six infinity stones were housed.

“Don’t worry Bruce,” Steve closed the briefcase solemnly. “Clip all the branches.”

“You know if you want, I could come with you.” Sam offered.

“You’re a good man Sam, but this one’s on me though.” Steve nodded and took in one last look at his friend before turning to Bucky.

Buck had been Steve’s friend forever. They’d survived almost a century together. The world had changed around them and dragged the pair kicking and screaming along with it. There were no secrets between them and Buck knew, even if Rogers didn’t, this was the last time they’d be seeing each other. At least as they both were then.

“Don’t do anything stupid till I get back.” Steve echoed the last worlds Bucky had said to him before shipping out back during WWII.

“How can I.” Bucky shook his head, recounting Steve’s response from ‘The good ‘ol days.’ Back when the worst-case scenario didn’t involve time traveling aliens who could wipe out half the population with a single snap. “You’re taking all the stupid with you.” They shared a hug that expressed more than either had ever said allowed to the other. “I’m gonna miss you buddy.” Buck whispered as they separated.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy.” Steve promised. With a final reassuring pat on the shoulder he walked away and stepped on to the time machine.

Midnight came and I was gone. The planet shrugged and moved along. A few people noticed and sang my songs. I was alive the day I died. I was alive the day I died.

Returning the Infinity Stones hadn’t exactly been easy. Even with the ability to travel forward or backwards with time as needed Steve found that getting the timing just right, took a little bit of practice. He didn’t have a way of recording how long the job had taken him, but he knew he was done when he opened the briefcase to find no more Infinity Stones and one final Pym Particle, his ticket home.

Home. He chuckled to himself. He’d never really felt at home anywhere or anytime. Growing up he’d been a scrawny kid from Brooklyn who never quite knew when enough was enough. During the war he was a puppet. Back when his uniform was still a costume and the closest he got to being a hero was punching a fake Hitler in the jaw three times a night. After the ice He was an eighty-eight year old man trapped in a twenty-something’s body. There was no stopping things after that. The music was too loud, and cars moved too fast.

He’d missed so many things he’d never be able to catch up on. America in the twenty first century had never really been his home. He looked down at the Pym Particle in his hand wondering if he dared. There’d be no going forward or back. That was the last one. He’d have to get the timing just right, because he was going to be stuck whenever time he landed.

Despite his best efforts to live in the present, he’d spent most of his life looking back with regret. Regret that he hadn’t been able to tell her back them when the timing was right. Regret that he hadn’t listen that day. That he hadn’t let her get Howard on the line to work things out. Regret that he’d never gotten that dance with his best girl.

Hardening his resolve, Steve set the date on his time travel watch. It had been seventy-two years for him, but for her it would be less than seventy-two hours. He’d show up with a bouquet of flowers even though flowers weren’t quite her thing. This was a special occasion and she’d understand that. He’d apologize profusely for missing their date and then before she had a change to say another word, he’d get down on one knew and ask her to be his gal forever.

I woke up, you next to me. You said “Good Morning, are you free?” The sun crept in for one last time. I was alive the day I died.

Disclaimers: All the bold text are song lyrics, and there is quite a bit of dialog pulled from MCU movies so if you reconize it, chances are its probably from The First Avenger, Winter Soldier, Civil War or End Game.

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers fan fic #Steve Rogers Fan Fiction #Steve Rogers FF #Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter #Steve Rogers & Peggy Carter #Song fic #Song Fics

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pocketseizure · 5 years

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The History of Light and Shadow

At the end of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf delivers one of his most memorable lines, “The history of light and shadow will be written in blood.” He is not wrong. As the player has witnessed over the course of Link’s adventure, Hyrule is haunted by ruins and ghost towns, a mere shadow of what it once was. The landscape is filled with numerous sites of past violence and empty spaces visibly marked by decay and wasted potential.

When Zelda tells Link and Midna that “these dark times are the result of our deeds,” she is referring to specific historical acts of imperialistic aggression. Hyrule established hegemony over its outlying territories by crushing the rebellions against its advances, but the kingdom has suffered from cultural stagnation as a result. Without the dynamic diversity symbolized by Ganondorf, Hyrule finds itself in economic and political decline, isolated from any contact with the world beyond its shrinking borders.

As a representative of a marginalized group of people who have been attacked and driven from their homes, Ganondorf is a tangible manifestation of the horrors of imperialism. He must be defeated, but doing so does not address the underlying problems that have resulted in Hyrule’s decline. I therefore want to argue that Twilight Princess uses Ganondorf to deliver a subtle yet poignant protest against the discourses of empire reflected by the dualistic “light and shadow” rhetoric of heroism that has resulted in tragedy and regret.

In the era immediately preceding Ocarina of Time, the kingdom of Hyrule united multiple geographically proximate groups of people at the end of a devastating civil war. Ganondorf was the leader of the Gerudo, an ethnic minority that resisted Hyrule. After several years of fighting, Ganondorf was eventually captured and imprisoned. The Sages of Hyrule were unable to execute him, so they sealed him away by casting him into the Twilight Realm, a world of shadows that exists alongside Hyrule. The events of Twilight Princess are triggered an indefinite period of time later when Ganondorf manages to persuade Zant, a prince of the Twilight Realm, to stage an uprising against Midna, its legitimate ruler.

Guided by Midna, the player takes on role of the teenage hero Link in order to defeat Zant and Ganondorf and thereby save Hyrule with the aid of its crown princess, Zelda. Many (if not the majority) of players will be influenced by the broad archetypes reproduced in this heroic narrative to understand Link as “good” and Ganondorf as “evil.” Throughout most of Twilight Princess, Ganondorf is characterized as a ruthless tribal warlord who attacked Hyrule because of his lust for power. As indicated by his monologues and gradual humanization over the course of the final battle, however, Ganondorf represents much more than simply an evil to be defeated. He is introduced to the player as a foolish man who became evil incarnate, and he does little more than scream in rage and pain when the player first sees him in a flashback. When he is allowed to speak for himself, however, he reveals himself to be highly intelligent with motivations that are not unsympathetic.

When Link finally confronts Ganondorf in the throne room of Hyrule Castle, he is sitting alone. The world he once knew is long gone, and all that remains to him is the intense emotion he has directed toward Hyrule, whose wealth and security he simultaneously covets and resents. Ganondorf has succeeded in conquering the kingdom, but his victory no longer has meaning, as his people have been killed, driven away, or assimilated.

As established in Ocarina of Time, the Gerudo historically maintained uneasy relations with the majority ethnicity of Hyrule. The views once espoused by the people in Hyrule concerning the Gerudo are reminiscent of Orientalist stylizations, in which the peoples of certain “non-Western” and therefore “uncivilized” nations are characterized as being either unintelligent animals incapable of governing themselves or decadent and weak and thus a prime target for colonization.

The villainization of Ganondorf and the Gerudo as deceitful and lawless thieves within Hyrule echoes contemporary postcolonial discourse, in which former colonial powers exhibit a longing for “the good old days” of expansive imperial hegemony. The British sociologist Paul Gilroy has termed this fabricated nostalgia “postcolonial melancholy,” a tonal atmosphere characterizing stories that are often haunted by the gothic figure of the postcolonial ghost. Ganondorf is a textbook example of a postcolonial ghost – a menacing supernatural figure who represents the frightening native traditions of the past that the supposedly enlightened colonizers attempted to “correct” but were prevented from eradicating completely.

In order for culturally odorless global capitalism to move forward, the ghosts of the colonial past must be laid to rest, regardless of whether they are symbolic narratives or actual human beings. Such narratives are not uncommon in the political discourse and popular narratives of Japan, which is still struggling to come to terms with its history of imperial violence on the Asian mainland. In essence, the demonization of Ganondorf reflects the historical and contemporary villainization of both specific and broadly defined groups in the real world, including entire nations of people who have been discursively positioned as “enemies.” As a medium, video games require challenges for the player to overcome. Story-based games such as those in the Legend of Zelda series tend to be relentless in their construction of enemies whose unequivocally evil deeds propel the hero to action. In Twilight Princess, there are two primary categories of characters with whom the player can interact: NPCs who offer material assistance and advice on how the hero can proceed through the quest, and monsters who must be attacked and generally yield tangible rewards when defeated.

In other words, the fundamental elements of gameplay reflect a worldview built on the foundation of a battle of “us” versus “them,” which is given literal expression in the dichotomy between who cannot be attacked and who must be attacked in order to advance. Many players take it for granted that a game will present a class or race or species that deserves to be destroyed, and the lack of alternative options for interaction suggests that it is still somewhat radical to suggest that perhaps the player-character is not entirely justified in the demonization of people who don’t look or think like them. Video games are adept at engendering a sense of subjectivity, meaning that one of their functions is to give the player a feeling of controlling their movement through the game while enacting their will via the actions of their character. At the end of Twilight Princess, however, Link must fight and defeat Ganondorf, no matter how much sympathy the player may feel for him. The gameplay elements of Twilight Princess therefore perform abjection, the process by which we demarcate the boundaries of the whole and wholesome “self” by setting up a contrast against a fragmented and unclean “other.” As individuals, we employ this process to construct monsters that violate the sanctity of our bodies; and, as cultures, we employ this process to construct enemies that violate our sense of belonging to a shared identity.

The dualism of “the pure” and “the abject” functions to further erase the nuances and possibilities denied by the artificial designation of the characters in Twilight Princess as either “good” or “evil.” Ganondorf’s cultural barrier-crossing, his shifting physical form, his open physical and emotional wounds, and his occupation of the liminal spaces between one world and another place him squarely in the realm of the impure and abject. Both the story of Twilight Princess and the narrative functions of its gameplay demand that the abject ghosts of the empire be purified and expelled by cleansing Hyrule of the pollution of Ganondorf’s lingering malice.

By humanizing Ganondorf but then forcing the player to fight him anyway, Twilight Princess employs various tropes relating to the figure of the postcolonial ghost not to invoke unironic postcolonial melancholy, but rather to force the player to experience the violence of these tropes in a subjective and visceral way. Twilight Princess is therefore not so much a heroic legend of triumph over “darkness” as it is an elegiac legend of regret concerning past atrocities. Link’s victory is bittersweet, and it is not presented as a triumph for him or for Hyrule. At the end of Twilight Princess, Princess Zelda barely looks at the young man who supposedly rescued her. Midna, whose people were once banished to the Twilight Realm for opposing Zelda’s ancestors, takes her leave of Link, shattering the gate between their worlds after she departs. Midna explains her decision by saying, “Light and shadow can’t mix, as we all know.”

As Link and Midna’s friendship throughout the game has demonstrated, light and shadow can indeed coexist. Midna does not explain why she would choose to destroy the Mirror of Twilight that connects the Twilight Realm to Hyrule, but it is significant that this occurs immediately after she has witnessed the fight between Link and Ganondorf. Perhaps the prolonged spectacle of Ganondorf’s death has convinced Midna that there is no room for “monsters” in Hyrule, and it may be that she fears that she and her people will always be seen as abject outsiders, just as Ganondorf and his people once were.

It’s not clear to whom the title of Twilight Princess refers, and it could easily designate Midna, who emerges from and returns to the shadowy Twilight Realm. The title could also apply to Princess Zelda, however, as the victory over the forces of evil at the end of the game does not necessarily reverse or alleviate her kingdom’s slow decline. Before the end credits roll, Zelda sends the hero back to his village and returns alone to her empty castle.

Despite the narrative arc of Link’s progressive competence as an adventurer, this element of sorrow has been present from the outset of the game. Unlike the other games in the Legend of Zelda series, Twilight Princess begins not with Link waking up in the morning, but with him returning home in the evening. The opening scene is suffused with the golden light of the setting sun, and the game’s first spoken line is delivered by Link’s mentor Rusl, who asks, “Tell me… Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?” The player’s first few minutes with Twilight Princess thereby establish melancholy and lament as two of the major themes of the game. The people of Hyrule are entering the twilight of their civilization under the rule of an ineffectual monarchy that has not allowed its people to be revitalized by change and diversity.

The slow apocalypse suggested by the environment of Twilight Princess, such as eroded ruins and decaying ghost towns, is not presented with an opportunity for renewal along with Ganondorf’s defeat. The potential for energetic dynamism represented by Ganondorf has been violently denied in favor of cultural purity, and the severity of this loss is reflected in the somber tone of the game’s closing scenes. If Ganondorf cannot exist in Hyrule, neither can Midna – and perhaps neither can Link himself.

When Ganondorf speaks of a history written in blood, he is referring to the history that has been lost to Hyrule along with the bodies and voices of the people who have fallen in its imperialistic conflicts. Twilight Princess thereby uses the menacing yet tragic figure of Ganondorf to suggest that, if the lifeblood of the kingdom is to remain vital, its history must be able to accommodate more than a reductive dualism between “light” and “shadow.”

#Legend of Zelda #Twilight Princess #Ganondorf #Midna #Princess Zelda #and Link too #Twilight Princess gives me feelings #witness my tears #lord help me I'm back on my bullshit #Zelda meta

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echoeternally · 3 years

Text

If There Are No Survivors...

Should no winner arise from the poll, or if the highest vote tally falls to the option against the heroes, then the scenes that follow will fill the story as the rest of the cast continues to move on without their allies.

Unlike other moments from other pages, these scenes may occur regardless of the winner, but will carry heavier weights should none of the characters return.

Brief descriptions and scene titles will be included below!

Fair warning: There is some content dealing with death below as well.

Second warning: This post is long to depict several developing scenes!

... ... ...

Tantalizing Roses

A stream of conscious as Chesnaught reflects on his fallen friends before the dark blue roses that haunt him months later.

...

My eyes fell onto the gelid blue roses, set next to the vase with bluebells. Tightening my fist, I strode over to them, and my body twitched as I approached. Greninja had wanted them together like that, pairing off the joy from our flowers, when I first publicly declared my feelings for him...and the roses in memory of our friends.

According to the legends that we were told, these roses were meant to bloom only for a couple that attained an impossible love, one that was strong and enduring. Though mostly a myth to many, since you’d have to be out in the Frozen Fields of the Iceberg Empire to witness their growth, we were around for their emergence between us and our friends, Machamp and Alakazam.

For Greninja and I, they had grown out a bit, but...they wouldn’t emerge outright. With Machamp and Alakazam, they practically commanded the roses to rise up whenever they desired, first discovering them upon a reunion, and then gathering them when we had time off every so often.

While they aren’t the first flowers that I’ve grown to dislike, they are perhaps the cruelest that I know of.

Closing my eyes, I can only see the joy and laughter of my friends that were kings of the roses. Their eyes were bright and smiling whenever they gifted bouquets to one another. Machamp and Alakazam. Friends that were near and dear to us, and two that we lost during the war.

Forcing my tearing eyes open, I glared at the blue roses, a symbol meant for love, but one that’s constantly marred by death.

And I wonder if that is their true purpose.

Some stories that I’ve read, ones that I don’t tell Greninja that I’ve uncovered; they are stated as strictly that: blue roses of mystery that rise up for those marked by death. Flowers that weren’t a gift of love and longing from a lover separated, but instead one that sought to caution others that could fall for a similar fate...one where love doesn’t triumph, but instead anguish does.

Neither sides of the story are treated seriously, of course. But, since we’re directly connected to these flowers...I do wonder...

... ... ...

If Only

Arriving to the Mountains Monarchy, Greninja and his allies assess the daunting cluster of mountains that they’ll be climbing.

...

“Looks like that will be a steep climb up the mountain for us.” Typhlosion snorted. “Fantastic. I’m sure we’re all looking forward to that.”

“Several mountains to ascend and explore,” corrected Samurott. He smirked to Typhlosion, who turned away from him, and he did the same. “Um. It does sound a bit tedious, I suppose.”

“We’ll do what’s required of us,” insisted Rhydon. “We are guests, but we also need to prove ourselves.”

“Shame that we can’t just Teleport up there.” Hypno rolled his eyes as he folded his arms back. “You happen to know that one, Gardevoir?”

“No.” She glared at him, but he merely shrugged.

“Too bad. That certainly would’ve been useful here.”

Though I know he didn’t mean it, suggesting that was like a punch to my gut. I wanted to proudly tell him about my best friend from the Iceberg Empire that would have made short work of that. But there’s little point.

“Greninja?” I blinked and jerked my head up. Gardevoir had turned her attention to me and softened up. “Are you all right?”

Blinking, I hadn’t even noticed the tears that slipped out. I brushed them away and nodded.

... ... ...

Unexplored Reunion

Mienshao meets with someone from Quagsire’s past, as they lament him.

...

“You’re...Feraligatr, correct?”

“Hm?” He blinked and tilted his head at Mienshao, who slowly approached him. “Yeah, that’s me. I don’t think we’ve met before.”

“We haven’t. But, someone that I knew, he...” Mienshao glanced down at the paper in his hand. “When you were younger, there was once a Wooper you might have encountered.” His hand trembled as he gripped the letter. “You were with a rather rude pair back in Grass Fields. Back then, when they were picking on him and a Budew--”

“Wait a second.” Feraligatr blinked and rubbed his chin. “Wooper from Grass Fields...” He snapped his fingers. “Oh my gods! I think...I think I remember that!” He grinned and laughed. “Those two were terrible! That poor Wooper tried to defend Budew, but...” Feraligatr shook his head. “Anyway, I wasn’t much better for being around them, but I didn’t want to do any harm.”

“Yes, that was part of the story.”

“Wow, that’s crazy!” Placing his hands on his hips, Feraligatr grinned to Mienshao. “Do you know about that Wooper kid then?”

“I knew him as Quagsire,” reminisced Mienshao. “Kind, gentle, a love for food...quiet...”

“Wow, he evolved and went up to the Iceberg Empire to join the Emperor’s ranks? That’s great!” He laughed. “That’s such a long way for him to have climbed up. Hey, do you think you could give him a message? I’ve always wanted to apologize about that day.” He sighed and deflated a bit. “I wish I had done more, and I wish I could’ve reached out after.”

“Standing up to your friends was admirable enough for him.”

“Really?”

“He actually wanted to tell you that himself.” Mienshao relaxed his grip and stared down at the letter. “I only recently learned that he had looked into you, but he wanted to find the right words to reach out to you with...” A tear slipped from his eye. “He was planning on asking me for help, and I never knew.”

“That’s ok,” soothed Feraligatr. He patted Mienshao’s shoulder. “We can just talk after things are sorted out here, and maybe that can help with the Monarchy’s relationship to the Empire!”

“I’m afraid he can’t.”

“Huh?”

“Back home, with our war...he didn’t...”

Mienshao swallowed hard and brushed at his eyes. Feraligatr leaned back and his cheery demeanor, his hope, faded. Unable to continue, Mienshao lifted the letter to him.

“Oh.” Feraligatr slowly took the paper and stared at it. “I understand.” He exhaled slowly as he sank down. “So he wanted to reach out...and I...” His arm dropped as Feraligatr’s head fell. “I won’t even get to apologize. Or really know him for who he is...”

... ... ...

Otherworldly Offerings

Speaking with Dusknoir, Greninja is offered some comforts from the priest.

...

“There are a number of spirits that linger associated with you.”

“Yeah, I...I gathered.” How many I actually wanted to talk to would be a different question.

Dusknoir drifted over and leaned closer to me. His red eye settled on me as his hand fell onto my shoulder. There was already a glow from around his head; I don’t think it was really up to me to choose who we’d commune with.

“You expect only pain from this?”

“Talking with spirits that know me, yes.” I glanced behind me, at the dark woods beyond the ruined cathedral. “For someone that’s killed, several times...what am I supposed to expect?”

“Comfort, closure perhaps.”

“That’s doubtful, but thank you.”

“There are many vengeful spirits that reside in the world beyond, I assure you of such,” admitted Dusknoir. “But, you can perhaps find others that remain behind because they seek to help those they left behind. Their unfinished business is to help, not harm.”

“Except I don’t have that from anyone.” I gazed up to him. “Those that died only blame me.”

“Perhaps it may surprise you to learn this, but that is far from the truth.” He spiraled back and held his arms out, a bright blue mist forming around him. “In fact, I have two such souls that are begging to speak with you, because they know you need to hear it from them.”

“Hear what?”

“That it’s not your fault.”

Bowing to me and drifting behind the mist that surrounded my space, I twisted around to look for the others. As I faced back where Dusknoir had been, though, I didn’t find him, but two other ghosts that stood in his place.

Poliwrath and Politoed’s shapes formed in the space of the mist, and I choked on my breath.

... ... ...

Stolen Souls

For the climactic journey’s end, Chesnaught battles against Gengar...and her twisted choice of allies.

...

“If I’m being entirely honest, I am curious.” Gengar grinned as I tightened my fist. “What’s it like, to have that kind of raw power residing within you?” She drifted back and snapped her fingers. “How about I test it from a Shade of mine?”

Before her rose a shadow from the ground, and my jaw dropped from its shape. Four arms, no mistaking it: she summoned Machamp. Or...his spirit...essence...whatever, that was my friend.

“Let him go!”

“Eeheehee...why would I do that?” Gengar’s eyes widened. “This power...it’s magnificent!”

Orange energy lit up the dark shadowy form, and Gengar snapped her fingers again. Chi rose from Machamp’s Shade, and drifted to Gengar’s hands. She focused them together and aimed at me.

“Let’s see which of you two is truly stronger, shall we?”

Her focused energy blasted from her hands and I dove aside to evade it. Rolling around, I lifted my blade, but my hands shook at sight of Machamp’s figure. Even if he��s not doing anything, even if it’s not entirely him, I can’t just...

“Not quite as entertaining as making you fight your friend,” mocked Gengar. “But, it does come quite close, don’t you think?” The witch cackled as she danced through the air, swaying her shadowy hands around. She can’t get away with this. “Which of the others should I call upon next? One of the frogs? That oaf salamander?”

“Stop!”

“Oh, no. I know the perfect one next...”

... ... ... ... ...

(Remember, these are scenes in development. However, this is what you can look forward to, should there be no winner of the poll. Perhaps that’s what kind of drama the readers might prefer!)

(Head back to the poll here!)

(Still not sure or want to read more? Check back here!)

#a hero's second wind

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hectorandvarian · 5 years

Text

Who is the father of Cassandra and analysis of video Wotso Video.

Greetings to my favorite readers! I finally watched all the episodes of the first "Rapunzel bomb" and I want to say that it was very good (although some moments could be better). However, for me, as a theorist, these ten series set aside little information, and therefore have to put a lot of effort. And now we will talk about one of the most significant topics - who is the biological father of Cassandra.

So, in the first series of the third season, we learned the terrible truth - Cassandra's mother was Mother Gothel all this time, and it was the witch who abandoned the little girl in favor of her selfish goals. And all would nothing, here is only about father we heard flat-sum game NOTHING. Although the series always gave at least minimal information about other relatives of our heroes, as it was with Eugene's mother and Varian's mother. Therefore, I assume Cass's father will have a much bigger role than we imagined.

Today will be a very unusual post, as I also want to parse a video theory from my fellow theorist - Isaac Carlson. I must say that I like his presentation of theories, and he is an extremely charismatic guy. He is eligible to carry the title of "best RTA theorist on YouTube". However sometimes he offers, on my view, wrong version of underway, as for example was with choice traitor in the finale of the second season. And this time was no exception.

He recently made a video where he suggested all the possible options of who could be Cassandra's father. And I was somewhat puzzled by those he chose as " Cass's fathers." And so I will first analyze all the four main options that Isaac suggested, and then I will offer my own, the fifth option. Chased:

* Zhan-Tiri. Well, we need to start with a few things. First, Zhan-Tiri had been imprisoned in another dimension a thousand years ago. Second, even with his partial presence in our world, why would this character meet with Gothel and, moreover, conceive a child for her? And third, Zhan-Tiri has a huge chance to be a girl. And even if we accept the fact that it can take any possible form, I come back to the second question-why it is necessary. Yes, I promoted the theory of "Zhan-Tiri - Varian's mother", but I understood its absurdity, and just wanted people to catch at least a small laugh from it, too, and here it is served as a serious statement. In General, you understood my thought, we go further.

* Quirin. Here it is turn to the politics of Disney. Maybe my memory is failing me, but I don't remember a single character from this Studio who had multiple wives or cheated on his wife. And I remind you, Quirin has a wife, and by her he had a son Varian. And given the kind of character we've seen, I can't imagine Quirin could have had many women. And besides, Quirin and Cassandra have nothing in common. I see nothing in common between them. Even if he were her father, it's more likely she would look Like Queen Ingvar than the way she looks in the series.

* King Edmund. Again, Disney's politics and the fact that Edmund had a wife by whom he had a son, and for whom he says you had to destroy the Moonstone. In this context, it is impossible to imagine that just two years later, Edmund would "change" his wife. Moreover, he had the most important mission-to protect Opal in the walls of the Dark Kingdom and no one allowed there. Seeing Gothel near his Kingdom, he would rather kill her than court her. And words Eugene about how, that Cassandra has become for him the sister need perceive not as fact, which is truth, and as thought individual, which can prove wrong. And again, except for skin tone, Edmund and Cassandra have nothing in common.

* Hector. I admit, this is the best of the options presented. I myself held to this theory, but then I realized its errors. In the first place, Hector greatly honors the words of his King, and so fiercely guarded the Great Tree. So hardly he could be back in the Gothel, thereby violating the order of Edmund. Secondly, despite some similarities, Hector and Cass have also a lot of different: they are of different height, they have a completely different nose shape, they also have a different face shape, their skin tone is slightly different, and the hair structure also has a difference. So Yes, Hector is hardly Cassandra's father, although he may be a different person, but we'll talk about that theory a little later.

And it turns out, Isaac lied to us, giving absolutely incorrect information? Well, not really, because he also suggested that Cass's father we have not seen in the series and he may be a completely different person, and maybe he will not appear in the series at all. This view can also be supported, since there are a huge number of topics in the series that have not yet been revealed to us. However, I try not to lose hope and think that we will get Cassandra's father. And my version of who Cass's father might be is that he's a Separatist from Saporia.

Yes, we haven't seen this character before, and what I'll tell you is more hypothesis than theory, but still, listen to me:

* Cassandra's father must also, like Gothel, hate Corona. He must be able to keep his mouth shut and keep the secret of Gothel's immortality. And most importantly, it should be useful to Gothel. And I think if the Separatist of Saporia will allow you to use their base as a refuge for witches, he will be able to receive her blessing.

* Such a move will provide an opportunity for artists to show more correctly the father of Cassandra and fit it more or less under the foundations of genetics and the similarity with Cassandra.

* Kinship with Saporia will allow crank such same focus, as this was with "Destinies collide", i.e. through the prism of relatedness hero better disclose the very group separatists Saporia, those thereby gladdened fans, because personally I believe, that theme Saporia - one of the most mysterious and interesting those receives more superficial treatment.

* If it happens this turn, then this may also be the impetus for Cassandra to take the path of revenge. Think about it: what a shock it will be for Cassandra that all her life she fought on the wrong side, served the people who oppressed her ancestors. And given the pressure of The Enchanted girl, the relationship could prove fatal to Corona.

* Again same, through this relatedness can be crank many Parallels and comparisons with lives Cassandra and Saporia, i.e. do something similar with Eugene, when "Lost Princess Sun falls in love in Lost Prince Moon illusion." Cassandra, as Saporia, is in the shadow of the Corona. She is also, like the Separatists, smart, cunning and inventive, able to manipulate people so much so that no one will understand it.

* And in the end, General Champagnier is very similar to Cassandra. Yeah, Cass's mom is a Gothel, but who's to say that round face, small nose, and skin color couldn't pass down through the generations to Cassandra's dad, huh?

Anyway, that was my theory about Cass's father. Stick to it or not, stick to the options from Isaac or not - it's up to you. But personally, I will not deviate from this theory, and I will hope that I will be right. All in all a good and remember - I'm on the way to work!

#tangled the series spoilers #tangled theory #rta spoilers #tangled #tts #tangled the series #tts edmund #tts cassandra #tts zhan tiri #tts gothel #tts quirin #tts hector #tts saporia #tts season 3 #rapunzels tangled adventure #rta #rta quirin #rta cassandra #tts theory

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winterromanov · 5 years

Text

hold me like a soldier - bucky x reader fic

PART TWO - JAMES

Pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

Excerpt: “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

Warnings: none

Taglist: @lunatictardis @cals-cigarette (reply or send me an ask to be added!)

You were under absolutely no impression that grad school was going to be easy. Yet, that being said, you’d never counted on it being this damn difficult either. Sure, the classes were more intense and more frequent, the deadlines already piling up and ready to leave you shaking like a village in a cyclone—but the classes you could deal with. You’re more than used to homework and Shakespeare is nowhere near as undecipherable as it was in high school, romance and comedy and tragedy now a wholly fluent language in your brain. No, what is difficult is how fucking lonely you are.

You’ve done the whole moving-to-college thing before, but that was back when you were eighteen and naïve and everyone in your dorm was in the same rocking boat, dropped in the middle of a city and on the hunt for (illegal) cheap beer. Now you’re older, arguably wiser and surrounded by hardworking mature students with exceptional career goals. Your roommate, Elise, is almost finished med school and has absolutely no interest in hunting down New York’s best bookstores with you. And the people on your course…they either have friends already, from their undergrad majors, or rush off the minute class is over. It leaves you aimlessly wandering the city on your own or cowered in the library, desperate for any—literally any—company other than your family, fuzzy and lagging over Skype conversations.

School is important. Probably the most important thing in your life, and you’ve worked really fucking hard to get here. But your sanity is important too. Spending another evening with a bottle of budget wine and Friends re-runs on Netflix while pretending to make notes for your medieval lit seminar is definitely not doing it any favours.

So—this is it, you decide. This is the day you bite the bullet. You will no longer be the loneliest girl in New York City, even if that means forcibly pinning someone to the wall of the literature faculty and making them get coffee with you.

(Not that you’d ever have the nerve to do that. Of course. Where does anyone even acquire that sheer level of confidence?)

Your morning starts in a building a fifteen minute walk from your apartment and the October air is unseasonably warm, sweat pooling in the small of your back where your rucksack dips. You make it to Russian lit with a few minutes to spare so you take your usual preferred seat a few rows away from the back of the hall, trailing to the middle. The faces that start to fill up the seats around you are recognisable, at least, but you know very few by name. A girl who is also in your Early Victorian Proto-Feminism class (Tessa, you think) smiles tightly at you, but decides not to sit next to you, preferring a seat nearer the front. As you get your laptop out in preparation for the lecture starting, another face catches your eye.

You don’t know his name, but you always notice him, whether it’s in class or in the library or the canteen near the activity centre. He always dresses smartly but in greys and blacks and blues, like he deliberately tries to evade attention. His dark hair is short but hangs a little in his eye-line, revealing an attractive face with a sharp jawline and sharper eyes. A ghost of facial hair shadows his chin and although you’ve never seen him smile, you can imagine it being the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Like the stars back home, the ones unaffected by artificial light, impossibly bright. You don’t get to see the stars like that in New York City. It’s like the skyscrapers have stolen them to burn.

He’s never acknowledged you before. Your stares go unseen, thankfully, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than trying to explain why your eyes refuse to leave somebody’s frame. This time, however—this time, his eyes flicker straight over to you. It’s unmistakable. For a couple of seconds, his blue irises settle on your own, and you snap away quickly as your cheeks flush.

Good one. Real good.

At that moment the professor turns up and starts to load up today’s presentation. When you look back, you can see the back of the guy’s head, a few rows in front of you diagonally across the hall. He’s on the shorter row by the door, only three seats either side of him, but all of them are empty. He doesn’t seem to have many friends either. It doesn’t strike you that there may be a reason for that—maybe he’s just shy, or finds it difficult to find friends, just like you.

(He seems a little older than you, too. There’s just something about his expression, aloof and quiet, that makes you think he carries more years than his face cares to admit.)

The lecture is on Tolstoy and while the professor’s theories on Anna Karenina are interesting, you keep finding yourself glancing at the guy. This is the first time you’ve realised he doesn’t have a laptop, unlike the majority of students in the hall. He’s scribbling notes fervently in a small moleskin notebook, hand covering the side of his face as he writes.

By the time the lecture finishes and you’ve typed a grand total of eight words (the presentation title, go figure) the decision is basically out of your hands. You can’t let him sidle out of the hall like every single Russian lit class before this one, especially if he insists on causing this much distraction to your studies. As the professor finishes up you quickly pack away your laptop, squeezing between the rows in an attempt to reach him before you lose him amongst crowds of other students in the quad outside.

Your gaze follows his scruffy black backpack, standing on your tiptoes as you try to see over the tops of the heads that make their way down the stairs. He presses a white earphone into his ear and between arms, you can see he owns an iPhone, just not a laptop.

For half a second, you falter. Is this weird? Walking up to someone random—well, almost random—after class and just striking up a conversation? Maybe he’s alone because he wants to be, preferring to stalk about without company other than his own. Maybe the seats are empty because he’s completely unapproachable, others before you tried and failing to break into his circle. After all, he’s hardly unattractive. You can’t be the only one feeling subconsciously drawn to him.

Oh, fuck it. Whatever happened to biting the bullet? You remember something your sister mentioned to you in one of your two-hour long Skype marathons—be brave, loser.

You follow him until you’re out of the between-class rush, jogging a little to catch up with his long strides. Taking a deep breath to psych yourself up, you stumble to a halt beside him as he stops to read a message or something on his phone.

“Hey,” you say, a little breathless from your jog, pulling your rucksack straps up your shoulder.

He blinks, a little surprised, like he hadn’t seen you. His hands tighten into fists, then relax. He recognises you. “Hey?”

You smile, hoping to appear approachable, but wondering if it actually comes across as a grimace. “I’m, uh—sorry, we just had Russian lit together?”

His face is totally unreadable, but his body looks tense, putting you on edge. Maybe this was an extremely bad idea. “Yeah. I saw you.”

“Yeah, I saw you too. Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have…” you realise you’re rambling and to your surprise, there’s a hint of amusement on the guy’s face. It seems to flicker away quickly, like he’s telling himself off for it. “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

He listens bemusedly, his hands sinking into the pockets of his trousers. You sigh. Verbal diarrhoea.

“The point being…we could, maybe, sit together?” you offer, hoping you haven’t immediately put him off if he was ever considering what you’re proposing. “Talk about Russian books sometimes so I don’t go mad?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he looks down at his shoes; they’re scuffed up red Converse sneakers, the only part of him in technicolour. You’re almost certain he’s going to turn you down, the sting of rejection premeditated in your stomach, because hell you’ve been in this position before. He’s silent, considering this simple arrangement for longer than you’d anticipated, which is somehow a good and bad sign simultaneously.

“I…” he begins, and you’ve already finished the sentence. I would rather not, thank you. His jaw flexes, hardens. “I can sit with you.”

“Oh!” you say, brightly, by surprise. Nonchalance isn’t an option. Your grin is so damn obvious and you’re not even ashamed of it. “Oh, cool!”

“But—I don’t say this to be…I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on.” He smiles sadly, painfully. This expression is definitely readable. More readable than he wants it to be, you suspect. He dips his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your hand closes round his arm and you can feel it tense, rock hard, and it’s like—like he realises you aren’t a threat, so he relaxes, his expression soft but eager to get away. You smile as a peace offering. “I just thought I’d ask your name. Then I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

He mulls the question over in his head like he’s attempting a complex math problem, not a daily occurrence. His mouth curves before deciding on his answer. “James.”

“James,” you repeat, trying it out. You give him yours in exchange and he nods once, expression returning to neutral. He turns and makes his way to his next destination, perhaps another class, and before you know it he’s swallowed by college crowds and completely gone from view.

It’s been one of your more…charged interactions on campus, but nevertheless it leaves a warm feeling in your stomach. Sitting with someone is a start. It’s sure as hell better than sitting alone.

#mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fluff #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #fanfic #sebastian stan

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