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nanaosaki3940 · 5 months

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Romance Manhwa You All Should Read...

So there are a few Korean manhwa that I have been reading recently. Some are new manhwa which I just picked up to read while the others are old ones that I read before and now I'm re-reading them again. All of them are of modern-setting with the premise of high school or college romance. 🥰🥰🥰

The new ones that I'm reading for the first time -

My First Love Hate

Seasons Of Blossom

Our Secret Alliance

Just Twilight

I Don't Hate Us

Cheese In The Trap

Revelation Of Youth

Operation Name: Pure Love

The Law Of Being Friends With A Male

My Introverted Boy

See You in My 19th Life

The old ones that I've read before and now re-reading them again -

Something About Us

Positively Yours

Marked By King BS

The ones that I haven't read yet but want to get into it -

Romance 101

My Younger Brother's Friends

Rewriting Our Love Story

1 Plus 1

Villain With A Crush

This Must Be Love

Now I wanna talk about some of the Manhwa series that I recently read in the last couple of days...

Our Secret Alliance

Manhwa Status: Completed Troupe: Childhood best friends turned lovers. THE NO. 1 BEST FUCKING "CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TURNED LOVERS" TROUPE MANHWA OUT THERE💘!! PERIOD😤!!!

No, seriously. I really enjoyed reading this series, and OMG !!! Female lead Se-i Yun and male lead Jaeha Kim are so fucking adorable!!! Se-i is a cutie, for sure, and seeing Jaeha as a boyfriend in this story raised my "boyfriend" expectations to an unrealistic height...

Also warning: you'll encounter a soft, bashful male lead here... so beware!!!

Seasons Of Blossom

Manhwa Status: Completed This story has four different parts: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter. And damn, the stories are so good, y'all!!

(This is gonna be a LONG rant here btw...)

I really loved the 1st part of the series "Bomi's Flower" which is the season of Spring. The sweet female lead (Bomi Yun), one of the most popular and studious girls in school, has a little crush on the 2nd male lead (Jaemin Lee), another popular kid in school, but later finds out that her best friend/2nd female lead (Seonhui Kang) also has a crush on Jaemin. But the thing is everyone in their school ships Bomi and Jaemin together as a romantic couple. Seonhui also shows her genuine support to Bomi as a good friend if she ever tries to get together with Jaemin, but Bomi knows that deep down inside her heart Seonhui is hurting by the fact that Jaemin likes Bomi and everyone ships them, meaning her love towards Jaemin is unrequited. So to save her friendship with Seonhui and also to save Seonhui from a potential heartbreak, Bomi gets into a fake relationship with the male lead (Jinyeong Choi), so that Seonhui and Jaemin get the chance to be together... But the thing is Jinyeong is the complete opposite of Bomi. Unlike Bomi, Jinyeong is blunt, ruthless with his words, always has a straight bored look on his face, and has an "I don't give a fuck" kinda attitude. He doesn't fuck around and hates those typical high school dramas and bullshit. Even though he's a gaming otaku and only has two male friends, he's quite famous among the students; guys want to be friends with him because of his game recommendations and girls think he's really cute. Also despite the fact that he's shorter than Bomi in height, my man has balls for sure when it comes to speaking up about his mind or taking action for anything.

This story talks about how opposites attract one another, how to discover and learn new yet unexpected things, how to fall in love for the first time in life and that sweet feeling like falling in love in your youth, and how to break out of your own shell and discover a new side of yourself. This 1st part of the series will give you nothing but fluff, sweetness, and butterflies.

And then later comes the 2nd part of the series, the season of Summer aka Hamin's Flower...

Okay, this one was really tough to get through. Not because the story sucked or anything. It's because of how painful, angsty, and heartbreaking it is. In the 1st part (Bomi's Flower aka Spring), we get to know that the 2nd male lead Jaemin Lee had an older brother named Hamin Lee (the golden child of the family) who died 6 years ago by committing suicide. We don't get much info about Hamin Lee in the 1st part (other than the fact that he's Jaemin's brother) until it comes to an end and the 2nd part begins. The 2nd part opens up with Jaemin Lee and the gang bumps into a 24-year-old art college student named Somang Han who happens to be Hamin's girlfriend from high school. Through Somang's narration and flashbacks, we get to know what kind of person Hamin Lee was, how she and Hamin met and fell in love, and how he spiraled into depression which resulted in him ending his own life. And also through Jaemin, we get to know more about Hamin as a son and a brother and how their parents' rough parenting pushed him to darkness and depression. At first, when Hamin was first mentioned in the 1st part, I didn't think much about him and only felt empathy for Jaemin for losing his older brother. But after getting introduced to Hamin in the 2nd part and learning more about him through Somang and Jaemin's POV and narrations, I couldn't help but bawl my eyes out for him in every single chapter. It got even worse for me since I already knew where the story was going and what was going to happen to Hamin in the end (it was more like the Shinichiro Sano effect from Tokyo Revengers like you know who Shinichiro is and what happened to him but that doesn't stop you from falling in love with him despite him being dead throughout the whole series). RIP Hamin Lee; my heart will always go out to you, forever, always.

The 2nd part Hamin's Flower aka Summer talks about some heavy topics/subjects like - dysfunctional families, rough parenting going wrong, dealing with societal burdens and depression, losing your loved ones and dealing with the aftermath, your first tragic love story, handling regrets and dealing with your traumas, how to overcome those traumas, and finally how to let go of your past and move on with life.

Hamin's Flower left me in such a numb and gloomy state that I couldn't read the other two parts (Autumn and Winter), but I'll try to get back and read them sooner or later. Even though I haven't read the complete series yet, I'll still give out a biased statement - I really, really loved Bomi's Flower and Hamin's Flower, and these two parts will always gonna be my favs from this series (doesn't matter to me if Autumn and Winter are better than these two).

Cheese In The Trap

Manhwa Status: Completed The oldest series in this list...

This story... this story... Oh God, where should I begin?!?! I can't believe that I didn't read this until now!! This is a truly mature love story. If you read this wanting a simple light college romance, this is not for you. While there are very cute interactions between the main character and her love interests, it is a very well-thought-out and complex manga - definitely the most realistic I have read thus far. The character development is out of this world and adds a sense of tangibility to the characters that you really don't see in fiction normally. To explain, the important main and side characters in any story are always bound by rules of development to identify them as cogs in a narrative; we have underlying expectations about what the characters might do, or how they might subvert those expectations. But, this webtoon is the study of social relationships and the nature of people. You get to see that there will always be some sort of social hierarchy, that there are meanings and repercussions beyond what you expect to happen in life, and that we all have some degree of victim and perpetrator in us. We all cope and process in different ways, while also continuing and evolving in life the way we know how. Unlike anything I have ever read before.

Also, this story is under the tag of "Psychological Drama" and it's all because of the male lead named Jung Yu. God, I've such a love-hate relationship with him, y'all!! Like I love him but also hate him at the same time. He's mysterious, charming, alluring yet so damn confusing. Also, the fact that he's a sociopath with a bit of a Yandere-ish tendency in him and that he's also obsessed with the female lead (Seol Hong) in a very twisted way??? He's a walking red flag for sure, but then again not... In short, Jung Yu is a complex character and my simple brain just can't comprehend him. I also love the female lead (Seol Hong), the 2nd male lead (Inho Baek), and Seol's two best friends (Bora Jang and Euntaek Kwon). The only important side character I despise is Inho's twin sister Inha Baek (don't ask why; just go and read it for yourself and you'll know why... also I hate those bully characters too btw, just so you know...).

I Don't Hate Us

Manhwa Status: Completed Troupe: Childhood best friends turned lovers.

Another series with "childhood best friends turned lovers" troupe done right!!

The female lead (Wonsu Ha) and the male lead (Jaesu Sang) have been childhood best friends since their middle school days. They had been best friends through high school and college until one day Wonsu got herself a boyfriend. Jaesu has romantic feelings for Wonsu, but she only sees him as a friend and has platonic love for him. Wonsu then breaks up with her boyfriend, not because the guy is a cheater but because they aren't that compatible with each other, so they mutually break up and separate. Wonsu also gets separated from Jaesu because his romantic feelings for her were getting in the way of their friendship at the time, and also her relationship with her ex-boyfriend took a toll on her mentally and emotionally, so she cut off all her connection and simply focused on her studies and graduating from university. Years later, now working in a small yet growing company, Wonsu reconnects with an adult and more mature Jaesu, who now works in a multinational corporation, and that's when sparks and butterflies start to fly left, right, and center. Almost all the characters are likable, the story and the plot are realistic, and overall it was an enjoyable read for me truly.

Also warning: you'll encounter a soft, bashful male lead here... so beware!!! I mean, the fact that despite the bad boy looks and everything, he's so cute like a puppy is fucking adorable, yo!!!

My First Love Hate

Manhwa Status: On-going Troupe: Childhood best friends turned lovers

This one came out this year and so far I'm really enjoying it. Just like the previously mentioned series above, the female lead (Eunha Kang) is relatable, funny, smart, studious, strong-willed, and whatnot. The male lead (Seungmin Ha) is Eunha's childhood best friend since elementary school but they stopped hanging out with one another ever since he became a delinquent back in high school despite the fact that they went to the same school and were in the same classroom. Years later, Eunha got into a prestigious university in Seoul and later learned that Seungmin was also at that university!! Not only that, he also stopped being a delinquent for good and suddenly started dressing up like a nerdy college boy. When Eunha asked what he was trying to do, Seungmin simply replied that he was returning back to his old self again and wanted to reconnect with Eunha... But things got a bit spicy all of a sudden when a tattoo-bodied 2nd male lead named Ryu Seonhoo walked into the scene and Eunha had to tutor him for the GED test on a regular basis...

Also warning: you'll encounter a soft, bashful, puppy-like male lead AND 2nd male lead here... so beware!!!

Just Twilight

Mahwa Status: Ongoing Troupe: Strangers to friends to lovers

I won't say anything about it... JUST FUCKING READ THIS SHIT ALREADY!!!

If you're a fan of another famous manhwa series called "Positively Yours", then you'll also love this series since it's written by the same author. The female lead (Junyoung Yun) is literally my spirit animal and the male lead (Beomjin Kwon) is such a husbando material, y'all... like, just look at him!!!

That's all for now... I'll make more Korean manhwa recommendation posts again very soon!!!

My manhwa recommendation list posts - Link 1, Link 2, and Link 3.

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inkandpaperqwerty · 5 days

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Do you like to see Envy suffering and struggling and generally in as much despair as is humanly (and non-humanly) possible? Of course you do. Because everyone does. Since this is the case, may I humbly request you check out my Brotherhood AU where Envy survives the Promised Day but is captured by Mustang. You can find Seeing Red on AO3, fanfiction.net, and wattpad. If you do check it out, please let me know what you think!

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smidgen-of-hotboy · 17 days

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Our Angel of Brahma, pt. ix

Travelers. Friends. Mutuals. @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @the-private-eye @demonic-panini @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS. MOTHERLY VOICE: I finally got a moment to myself thanks to Eber and Camilla… Thank the Goddess… I don’t know what I would be doing without them. (THE PERSON SIGHS) Where do I begin? I guess… my name would be a good start. (CLEARING THEIR THROAT) My name is Eevee Bell, and I am one of three to four dozen Dome Wardens on Brahma. Our duty is to perform routine maintenance on the planet’s Dome, track incoming and outgoing shuttles and ships, and monitor Brahma’s severe weather outside the Dome. I love my job. I think I do my job very well. From what I’ve heard about other planets, they have robotics and computers to do this job now. Artificial intelligence that the Solar Planets spent a fortune to perfect. Of course just like with everything else though, Brahma gets left behind in the dust. (EEVEE CHUCKLES UNDER HER BREATH) EEVEE: Goddess bless our savior New Kinshasa. (EEVEE LAUGHS A BIT HARSHER) EEVEE: What happened to us though has been brewing under their noses for some time now. I guess it was only a matter of time before… something was done. To be honest I’m still not entirely sure what did happen. I know that our alarms went off when the Reactor Core was removed, and I know they stopped going off when the Core was put back. I know that the Chief Constable called all of our stations, and ordered us to go home. I know that we have not gone back to our stations for nearly ten days. I know that if we don’t accept any imports within the next seven days Brahma will begin to suffer. And if we fall, New Kinshasa falls with us. Cyrus called me while I was rushing to get home to Baird. He asked me how much I knew and after I told him, I asked how much he knew. He said it would be better if he came to speak to me in person. He lives across town with Iris. I told him it wouldn’t be wise to meet up so late, especially with a curfew in place. He disagreed, but I talked enough sense into him that he waited until morning to catch a tram over here to the apartments. Baird was not enthused to see him. He was rather… indifferent, actually. I know it hurt Cyrus’ feelings, I do plan on talking about it with Baird when I can, but it’s so hard to talk about anything seriously right now. I’d rather keep things as light-hearted as possible. I sent Baird over to Camilla and Eber’s apartment while I had tea with Cyrus. He looked so worried. He asked me if I saw the Chief Constable’s broadcast about the Revolutionary, Peter Nureyev. I have. I watched it with Baird the night before after I got home from my post. Cyrus said that he doesn’t know of any Peter Nureyevs in any of his revolution circles. He surprised me by asking me for my thoughts about the Constable they allegedly found murdered by the Revolutionary. I didn’t at the time, and I still don’t now. Cyrus said that he has reason to believe that part was a lie. He doesn’t believe the Revolutionary killed a Constable. He thinks it might be an elaborate lie or cover-up for some more vain truth. (EEVEE INHALES SHARPLY) The revolutionaries are holding a meeting tonight. Cyrus invited me to come. He wants me there. I don’t want to get in trouble, but… I need to keep Cyrus and Baird safe. And by extension, it’s my job to keep Brahma safe. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS: EEVEE: What the fuck! NEW VOICE: What are you doing? EEVEE: What am I doing I’m recording you idiot! Cyrus, don’t you see? If what was discussed tonight has any truth to it, New Kinshasa isn’t going to let any of this get out. More than– I bet you my next paycheck that Dark Matters is going to play a role in covering it all up! (CYRUS TRIES TO SHUSH EEVEE) CYRUS: Alright, alright– you have a point. Keep your voice down alright the streets have ears… You really hope your little comms though is going to play a role in– This? EEVEE: Mark my word, I think my little comms will outlive both of us. If Baird’s lucky it will outlive them. (CYRUS GROANS. EEVEE GIGGLES) Okay, okay… I attended the meeting– CYRUS: The book club. We went to a late-night book club meeting. What? Don’t give me that look. Plausible deniability, Eve. EEVEE: Right. The Book Club. We attended Book Club and talked about the climax of a war story. In the story, the main character kills a man with radical ideas to overthrow their government. The man he killed was not popular amongst the rebels. In theory, they should have agreed with him. CYRUS: In practice, however, the rebels do not condone murdering hundreds of thousands of people. Thus the whole unpopular amongst the rebels. EEVEE: Of course, word got out about the man’s death, and to cover it up, the government claimed him as an Enforcer. And they were getting away with it because the last clothes the man was found in was a stolen Enforcer uniform. I don’t know if I believe the rebel or the government’s of the story– CYRUS: Eve– EEVEE: But! But. But I do believe that it was the right call for the rebels to sit back and wait for information to trickle out to them slowly… I think I’ll need to attend the next meeting to really make sure I understand what I’m getting myself into. Oh– I’m so tired. Can we discuss all this in the morning? With hopefully less ears listening in? (CYRUS HUMS AFFIRMATIVELY) CYRUS: I’ll even let you sleep in if you let me crash on your couch. EEVEE: Of course, I wouldn’t make you walk across town while already breaking our curfew. CYRUS: Thanks, Eve. (LONG PAUSE) Baird’s not going to be mad to see me, is he? EEVEE: This late at night? I doubt it. If anything he’s staying over at that Spade’s apartment probably fast asleep with Charlie. Oh, they’re so sweet together. I went to say good night to them one evening and I couldn’t kiss Baird’s head because Charlie had a death grip on his shoulders. He's always polite and entertains all of Baird’s whims… I wish you were around more to see it happen. CYRUS: You and I both know why that can’t happen. (BOTH OF THEM SIGH) EEVEE: You know he’s only so pouty around you because you and I split up, right? He just wants us all together again. Like a proper family. CYRUS: We are a proper family. Mom who works too hard, dad who left to get milk and never came back– see? Proper family. (EEVEE LAUGHS CAUSING CYRUS TO LAUGH) UNFAMILIAR VOICE: Hey, state your business and show your credentials. CYRUS: Shit, Constables. Run Eve! SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS. (EEVEE WHISPERS) EEVEE: Cyrus and I got away from the Constables last week perfectly fine. This week on Brahma: we went to another revolution meeting. A few old timers took roll call and one of them said he had reason to believe that the person the Angel of Brahma killed was one of theirs. A man who wasn’t the least bit popular in any particular revolutionary circle. Apparently, he wanted to drop New Kinshasa out of the sky and saw it perfectly fit to kill all of Brahma in the process. (EEVEE SCOFFS) The nerve of some people. No one at the meeting could remember his name though, and no one still knows who Peter Nureyev is outside of the photos projected on every billboard on the planet now. He looks so young. Those dark and haunting eyes and sharp teeth. I find it hard to believe that he’s just a teenager. But– he is. I’m trying to keep my voice down right now because Baird is asleep. The meeting was held before curfew this time so Cyrus went home to Iris and I walked alone back to the apartment. Eber was waiting for me just outside and before I could say hello he was dragging me down the halls to Hank’s apartment. His dog Missy was sprawled out on the sofa but Hank, Camilla, and Josie were all gathered around the dinner table. Mrs. Darius was upstairs with Talia, Charlie, and Baird. I sat down and told them everything I could. The revolutionaries wouldn’t let me record anything with my comms during the meeting, but there wasn’t much that I think needed to be recorded. Just talk about who was storing what, who was leaving their doors open to help others. There was a lot of talk about going on strike. Either food or labor. They want to send a message to New Kinshasa. I don’t think I can afford to do much of anything. Me and the other Dome Wardens just went back to work two days ago, we are working through a backlog of off-planet imports and exports still. If I strike alone I’ll just be fired. If all the Wardens strike, then the Constables will take over and that will lead to certain catastrophe. And if I stop eating then Baird will stop eating and he’s already so… short. Oh– I wish I got a chance to talk to Cyrus before we went our separate ways. He’d help me think of some way I can help. Better yet, he’d probably be able to give the others here at the apartments the answers they wanted from me. Hank didn’t say anything other than telling us to get out. Eber, Camilla, Josie, and I were silent on the walk upstairs. The kids were delighted to see us. Eber walked Talia back down to Hank, Josie was trying to fill in Mrs. Darius, and Camilla and I watched the boys play some sort of game where they kept pinching each other and trying to not shriek? I think that was the objective? Children’s games used to be much less violent when I was that age. I remember when– BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Memma? EEVEE: Bairdy! What are you doing awake? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I couldn’t sleep. You were being too loud. (EEVEE TSKS) EEVEE: Then let’s put you back to bed alright baby? C’mon. I’ll even sing for you if you’d like. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: I have either made the best decision of the revolution that will turn the tides in favor of Brahma, or the worst mistake of my life. I told the old-timers at this past meeting that I work as a Dome Warden, and that a few of my colleagues seemed interested in joining the rebellion but were uncertain on how to go about it. The old-timers were delighted for a number of reasons and had drawn the same conclusion that I had a few weeks ago when a labor strike was first brought up. They think it would be very good if I was able to get some of the other Wardens on board with the revolution. Cyrus was very quiet during the meeting. I asked him before we left if he had any opinions he was holding back, and all he said was to trust my gut. So… I trusted my gut. I told the other Wardens at my post about the meetings. I told them about going on strike. A few seemed skeptical. Others wanted to know when the next meeting was. I’m going to contact Cyrus and get him to help me get the others to the next meeting. I hope… this wasn’t a mistake. I guess time will only tell. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: –you turned it on. Good job, baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Mom, why are you showing me how to use your comms? Is something going to happen to us? Is something bad going to happen to you? EEVEE: What? Oh no, baby. Nothing is going to happen to me. I just think you would find more use out of my comms than I would. Look, since you got it to record you can start recording all those little songs you like to sing. Or maybe you can get Charlie to record a story for you. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): But Mom, I like your singing and your stories more. Will you sing for me? And tell me a story tonight? EEVEE: Absolutely not. You get one or the other. Take your pick. And whatever you don’t choose, you have to give to me. (BAIRD POUTS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… I want a story from you, and then I’ll give you a song. EEVEE: Good choice, Bairdy. What kind of story would you like? (BAIRD HUMS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I want a story about Brahma. EEVEE: A story about Brahma? Well… there once was a boy born on Brahma with nothing. Not even a name. He grew up just like everyone else, hungry for more. More food, more freedom, more time. The boy followed a man who dreamed of dropping the New Kinshasa on top of the planet. The boy was very tired. Tired of being poor, tired of being hungry, tired of being alone. But he knew, that if he let that man drop New Kinshasa out of the sky, he would never be able to forgive himself. Brahma is his home. He looked down at Brahma from up high, and saw them: his people. Starving young faces just like his looked up to the sky and stared back at the city as it trembled. The boy had the power at his fingertips to stop a tragedy. This is it. The people thought. This is how we go out. Not with the big bang, but crushed under the heel of our jailor. The boy heard their thoughts. He felt a rush of adrenaline and stopped the man from getting away. The city of New Kinshasa never fell out of the sky that day. The people were ordered to retreat to their homes. But that evening, everyone heard about the great threat against the Guardian Angel System. And everyone learned the name Peter Nureyev. And for the first time in the last half-century, hope bloomed on Brahma. The Boy, The Legend, The Angel of Brahma. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): That’s not a story Memma, that’s history. EEVEE: And what is history but a story we have to learn from? Now, I believe you owe me a song. (BAIRD GROANS AND HUFFS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… (BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND HUMS. THE SOUND GETS CLEARER LIKE HE’S BROUGHT THE COMMS CLOSER) My angel, I must ask you keep singing for me. How sweet your tune, like a songbird at noon. What a lovely trill, it makes me feel ill. O’ My heart overflows, I could never let go. Like chimes in the wind, it must be destined. I’ll find my way home, with your voice I’ll never be alone. Happy? (EEVEE SNIFFLES) EEVEE: Very. Thank you, Baird. That was beautiful. (FABRIC RUSTLES, BOTH BAIRD AND EEVEE HUM) Promise me you’ll never stop singing baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Of course, Memma. I don’t think I could even if I tried. EEVEE: Good. Now– (EEVEE PRESSES A KISS TO BAIRD’S HEAD) Get some sleep. Okay? We have a long day tomorrow. And Bairdy? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Yes, Mom? EEVEE: You know that I love you, right? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): To the moons and back, yeah… Mom you promised nothing bad was going to happen to you. EEVEE: And nothing will. Good night, Baird. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Night Mom. SOUND: DOOR CLOSING. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Which button was it to end the recording? Was it this o– SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

- EEVEE BELL. BAIRD BELL. must contact Frannie’s friend about both of those names. - Dome Wardens are indeed an old, out of date job. Eve is right, they’ve been replaced with robots. It’s actually kinda scary how right she was about things. About that, about Dark Matters probably covering everything up with New Kinshasa. - Cyrus and Eve sound so fun together. I can see why they got married and had a kid together. - Bairdy and Memma… right up there with Charls and Dearest. - Oh Baird, he was 12 when these recordings were made. 12. Just almost a teenager, not quite. Almost too old to be called a baby. - Eve loved Baird so much. She reminds me of my mother a bit. And she knew exactly what she was doing tucking Baird into bed that final time. There’s no doubt in my mind this is the last recording with her in it. She was taken away after this and never came back. The Dome Wardens did go on strike at some point according to Baird in other recordings, so did someone snitch to a Constable? Did she the Constable that almost caught her and Cyrus track her down? - I think that’s the most frustrating part of my job. No matter how much I dig and research, there are some things that will be lost to me forever.

#at some point this was like pulling teeth #so i may revisit it and rewrite some of it #or elaborate/add more #BUT im happy rn #funfact: the story eve tells is almost word for word what i wrote on buzzkillgirls post #about nureyev the legend vs nureyev the man #our angel of brahma #the penumbra podcast #private eye's keys go jingle jangle #the penumbra fanfic #a hotboy's writing #FUCKGING BIRDS NEED TO SHUT UP NOW SO I CAN SLEEP-

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wintertimestoryteller · 9 months

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Linked Universe x Reader Fairy Tale Collection

@luimagines It is finally here! XD Apologies for the huge delay, suddenly became a dog mom again and life has been difficult, apologies to all who waited. Hopefully it's at least half decent, this did not want to write itself at all X_X

Warning for dark themes of the fairy tale kind and violence. I recommend researching Penta by Basille if some of you are curious about the interrupted story, though I did leave a lot out for obvious reasons, the first story is actually a reference and I thought it would be fun to see how many catch it and who would notice the reversal of roles here. No Shadow Links were (seriously) harmed in the making of this chapter, just Reader and their poor mind who can't catch a break.

Technically this is the final act before the Masterlist for each Link, though there is technically a bonus act and an intermission I doubt anyone would be interested in that, y'all came here for the Links and the fairy tales not the lore and behind the scenes stuff done to get here because I decided to pull a Hans Christian Andersen even while trying to keep this as short as an opening act should technically be, might write them down if there's enough interest but for now I'm leaving it up to interpretation xP

Opening Act, Scene IIII

It's almost strange, how peaceful your first few days and nights in the theater were.

It was hardly unwelcome, of course it was a pleasant surprise. Even with it's darkened, solemn corners and the way the shadows played eerily across the walls, dancing and laughing mockingly as they put on a show only they knew, it hardly felt truly unsettling for long, maybe it was just your long time on the road which made you jaded to the concept of old buildings that felt like echoes of their former selves, ever lonely, ever grieving like a widow, knowing their lover would not return from the war but waiting for as long possible before considering taking poison. The building was much the same, threading the fragile, dreamlike barrier of a long, wistful forgotten dream and a feather soft, fondness warmed memory.

It felt just about on the edge of death, but not quite ready to cross the border, it felt alive, like watching a barren wasteland attempt to host life again, even if it wouldn't last long or ever recover.

You believe it's in large part due to it's residents.

It was impressive, really, though you're all clearly wary towards one another, the troupe was seemingly more delighted by the fact they had new people to tell new tales to than bothered by the fact the Chain was clearly high strung from a long journey with the carmine and jade weariness of hunters unable to continue searching for their quarry. Director Raven had given you all full permission to explore and was only ever truly strict with corralling the crew to perform, the obsidian speckled mist of their excitement reflected in the way their coat sleeves flapped while directing each member to their roles and how their steps practically glided across the floor and the stage, their feline companion ever present on their shoulders as they truly gave their name sake justice as they crowed and crooned new characters into Byron's ears, sparkling ruby glee as the bloody feather on their hair and gem collar at the gentleman's smile with the flame bright elation of a mad man as he worked on costumes, scenery and props like a man possessed occasionally hissing like an offended cat at Edgar, who was quick to bark and judge even the slightest imperfection as he marked cues for Anabella's scripts, the woman, once having heard of the Links musical prowess, having lit up like the chandelier serving as spotlight at the stage, gently having coaxed the boys towards Amelia, the petal soft smiling dark haired young woman you've met earlier whom Raven just couldn't help but squawk amusedly at Anabella having a very clear soft spot for, who wasted no time in convincing a few of the heroes to follow sheet music the young woman had written but never quite had enough people to help perform.

It was honestly amusing, seeing the young woman and Warriors practically team up to bully Legend into playing the violin again, the veteran protesting for a good while, until a small, well placed tease from Sky made him cave, you and Wind both pretending to hide bright laughs at seeing him pretend not to smile, the jewel bright sight of her delight making you feel warm as she suggested to the exccentric playwright to share your own stories with the troupe and the boys once again as the sweet notes of musical and Raven's narration rolled up and across the aisles, the ruby cheer of the chattering of their cheek with the sweet aquamarine of your gentleness making even the likes of ever serious steel serious Cal or solemn First smile.

The only incident any of you all had really was when you've met Priscilla properly, or to be more accurate, when Priscilla found you all, the youngest of the troupe popping from the ceiling like a bat in front of you from the theater's costume attic like a reverse phantom of the opera, giving you a small fright with her cat smug smile as she finished fixing the lights and eagerly jumped into Twilight's back the second she heard Epona being mentioned, asking all sorts of questions about horses and their proper care until Edgar came knocking to pry her off.

A few minor incidents were had, what with your boys' usual brand of chaos and only so much you, Time and First could do while Raven rounded up the brand of madness found in their own little troupe (like how Anabella, much like Hyrule, should not be allowed near any form of food supply lest they both commit crimes agaisnt nature and the last leg of Wild's morals and sanity, how Byron, Warriors and Legend could almost snarl at each other like feral dogs when it came to fashion sensibilities, or Priscilla attempting to coax Wind and Spirit onto the attic and catwalks with her to play pranks onto the unsuspecting audience and performers below just to see Four and Edgar twitch), but overall, the first three days of constant strong storms and two of the stories told passed quickly, like the heartbeat of a humming bird.

... Which made your own feelings for a certain hero grown ever more transparent like the polished crystal which made up the spotlight.

How could you not contemplate these feelings? How could you even begin denying something that has been sinking it's teeth into your soul for months now? Ever since the Chain found you, injured and with nowhere to go, it was always moving, ever forward, ever running, ever hunting, for if you all didn't hunt the shadow, it would stop at nothing to tear everything and everyone so much as grazed by the bright, ever burning diamond flame of the Hero's Spirit, with the burning fury of a maddened beast with nothing left to lose, with enough hunger it could render divinity to pieces. So, so so wrong to the very fabric that made up the curtain of Hyrule's stage it made one's flesh crawl before it even set it's bloody, hungry, vile gaze upon you.

(You didn't have a choice, when they'd left you behind, the portal simply opened to place you in harm's way again and again and again and again, you only survived through pure luck most of the time, the other half being due to run ins with different members of the Chain. Eventually, finally, after you'd met again and dragged First's abandoned, bleeding, almost dead but oh so stubborn he wouldn't die quite yet, carcass to camp, they'd decided to teach you how to wield a blade and take you along.

After all, it's not like you could go home.

... No, no, you couldn't go home, ever again.)

Being in the theater was a welcome breath of fresh air, even with the oddities of it's residents. But it also gave you nothing but time to think. About home, about the people who are likely to be looking for you, and kind gem bright eyes, leaves on the wind gentle touches, and smiles that could put the sun and the moon and stars to shame with their radiance and the unshakable, beautiful, lonsdaleite and steel of the will to protect and courage to follow through so, so warm it left you scorched, stealing the breath from your lungs and replacing it with lava and frost, pinning you into place better than any arrow or trick the shadow could pull. Left you aching more than any moment in the battle field, shaking you to the very marrow of your bones as the laughing dove that was affection stole into your heart like a thief, and gave half of it to the beast called love.

And

Was

Torture.

How could you not fall for that?

How could you not think about it?

So instead of getting even more flustered by possibly slipping up and making a fool out of yourself, giving yourself away and wanting to just wander into the Lost Woods without a guide and let yourself go mad from mortification and become a Poe (because at least then it would be a more manageable form of insanity), you'd instead taken to haunting the back wings and auditorium of the theater like a ghost. The theater was hardly all that big, but it wasn't small by any means, the size of a noble's summer home at best, so there was plenty of empty supply rooms and forgotten lounges to think, contemplate, and to keep a tenous hold on your sanity as you avoided dwelving deeply into your feelings.

After all, why would he want little old you? Unimpressive, ordinary little you, who lived a most relatively peaceful life before falling into Hyrule, who couldn't protect them properly, who most importantly of all would hurt the one you adored because you couldn't stay?

... It would be agony, you couldn't do that to him. It wouldn't be any difference than the Shadow taking your face and torturing your hero, so you'd stay silent, and hope these feelings died a quiet, peaceful death. At least in this abandoned lounge room you could refrain from making your hopeless longing obvious until you'd need to return.

"Oh me oh my, what are you doing here all alone?" Came a cawed, lilting honey coated rasp, padparascha curiosity in the the flap of nightlock coat sleeves, "I thought you'd want to join your companions! This place is still too dusty for back tours I'm afraid."

... Well, not quite so abandoned now. Is it?

Then again, you're not even too surprised, you'd be lying if you'd say you were. If there was anyone who could navigate these darkned, old halls with ease to find someone allegedly missing, it would likely be it's master.

Director Raven swoops into the room with quick, almost silent steps, a specter with the grace of a Gerudo dancer, sending you a smile, their feline companion is gone, but their ever present bloodstone feather chimes like a bell as they brush dust off an old couch, you laugh sheepishly, hoping that the tempest winds outside took your thoughts away so you could focus, "I'm sorry, you said we could go just about everywhere and I needed some time alone. Hopefully it's not any trouble?"

They cluck at you, taking a new accessory from their coat and placing it behind your ears with a cheeky poke to the nose, you blink as you touch it, a red, red rose, "Oh please, not at all! I'm a professional of my word you know? I was just worried is all, you're basically part of the troupe at this point and your lover boy has been staring at you with such concern, you know? So I thought I'd check on you."

Their concern makes you blink, with a small bite of confusion to their wording, "I've only helped you folks perform for three days now?"

They chuckle with amusement, the tone raspy and crowing as they perch themselves upon the couch, "Doesn't matter! We've had folks who stayed and helped for less time, we still consider them troupe members. Once taken in by the Astoria, you're part of it for all time, can't I have some empathy for someone so clearly pining?", You jolt, the director gives you a knowing smile, mercury amusement and gallium understanding, how did...? "Broken hearts are as dangerous as broken minds and wills to a person, take it from me. I've told and been part of one too many stories to know that all too well, now, why don't you tell good old uncle Raven what ails you?"

That makes you snort, rose quartz embarrassment mixed with xanthic amusement, "Uncle, really? Weren't you the one who said you'd actually take someone to court for emotional damages if someone tried utilizing gendered terms for you?"

They squawk, ruffling your hair with a click and hiss, as they jump up with ruffled feathers and a raised chin, mock offended, "Oh kiss my grits! This ain't about me here. This is about your longing making me sad and me being willing to hear you out from the goodness of my heart, and there you go! Spitting on my good will! As I was about to offer to make you tea, no less."

You laugh and you catch a grin on the director's lips from the reflection of a mirror, you wave them on, "Alright, alright. I'll humor you, will you want some help deciding the next story to tell while at it?"

They wink, prancing around the room for the kettle in the corner, "You know me too well! You're a wealth of new stories, I can listen to you pour your little heart out and grill you for inspiration at the same time. That way your heart will be lighter than a leaf on the wind when you next see your lover boy"

Settling in, you wait until Raven has made you both tea, getting comfortable and taking a sip.

Mhm, coming to the theater was a welcome change of pace. And talking to someone who wasn't Link about this would likely do you good.

(So preoccupied you are with your thoughts and the vaguely floral tea the director had broken out of storage and brewed, you don't notice the way another figure shows up on the reflection of the mirror just as the thunder booms, and how Raven's gloved fingers tighten a fraction as the shadows flicker oddly once you drink the tea. The cinnabar of their smile turning iron speckled with guilt and tense as they spot bloodstone tiger eyes on the doorway. Before turning fireplace warm once the Hero of Skies popped his head onto the doorway after a few hours of listening to you want, they offer him a spot of tea.)

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

The storm still raged on relentlessly outside, it's screams and howls those of lost souls and old forgotten or yet to be remembered deities rending the air with water and thunder, it's been almost a week since you all had started staying in the theater, everyone had settled into a small sort of routine, as it didn't seem like the storm would cease to rage anytime soon. You'd all wake up (checking your weapons as you go, just in case, your dagger on your sleeve a common secret among the Chain members ever since a bad run in with the Yiga, Artemis had taught you and Warriors well and if any of the troupe members notice, they didn't press), go through the usual daily routine you all had while under an actual roof, Wild, you and Twilight would cook with occasional aid from either Raven themselves who twitched and squawked about the injustice of allowing guests to cook before Edgar would cuff them over the head and take over or a very chipper Amelia whose early morning energy could only be likened to a ray of sunshine Anabella would trip over her feet and possibly kill a grown man for, and in turn you'd all take your turns occupying themselves for the day, the troupe making sure to give everyone their due space until the early evening, which is when you'd all take to storytelling.

You couldn't help your small grin as you let yourself be led by the hand by Twilight, blindfold coming off as he twirled you around as you deliberately sang an incredibly off key note, laughter and chuckles being draw from your boys as you were set down onto the stage and raised your tune, his pelt slipping off your head like the heavy, but comforting cape it was, his smile campfire warm and oak steady, Raven's crowing laughter being hidden by a coughing fit before they seemed to compose themselves enough to continue on with a straight face, "And so the wolf, once a princess, remembered the prince. And thought she'd never sing again, and it wasn't very good-" they choked as you deliberately hit a note that sounded like a dying cucco, you can vaguely see Cal coughing into his fist, First shaking his head in amusement in contrast to Sky's summer breeze laughter while Time's lips barely twitched with honey sweet amusement and Wind wheezing agaisnt a laughing Spirit's side, mission accomplished! The director sent you a look, mockingly ruffling his feathers, "Commit less to the bit darn it! I won't be able to finish if I'm rolling around on the floor!"

Your smile widens with cheek, topaz bright with delight, "No such thing as overcommiting to the bit!"

"For what it's worth they don't sound too bad when not trying to sound like a goat going into labor." Cut in Twilight, using your head as an arm rest, you playfully shove him off, you briefly catch a smirk on Warriors face, Four chuckling while Legend leant agaisnt his side for support, good. Him and Hyrule looked off kilter recently, if you could make them smile by playing the fool this once, you'd be glad.

"Oh by the Goddesses- I'm almost regretting allowing you to volunteer on stage. I'm never listening to Priscilla ever again, anyway!" They clap their hands, clearing their throat, "The prince couldn't care less, for he had a dear friend back to him. And so they stayed on that cliff's edge, enjoying each other's company and lived happily ever after!"

"That was a shockingly sweet story," Smiled Hyrule, "Short and simple but just sweet enough."

"Can't believe the rancher actually made half decent royalty though." Jabbed Warriors, though you can feel the amusement in his tone like drinking songs after a long time of conflict. "And that the final conflict was basically triggered if someone ever messed with the vet's raccon pile of stuff."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused."

Twilight gave him a side glare then nodded at Hyrule, seemingly deciding that Legend could deal with Warriors well enough and after you playfully darted around him like a prancing doe, snagged his pelt back, you sighed at the loss of warmth and the feeling of security, but ushered him off the stage, "Never been on stage before and have no wish to do so on an official capacity, thank you. But Dusk would have my hide if I didn't pick a thing or two to add to entertaining the village children if nothing else. Have to say that last twist was a shock though." He sent you a glance and smile, "You're awfully good at playing the amnesiac, I'll say. Almost had me panicking."

You chuckle sheepishly, sitting at the edge of the stage, accepting a bit of warm tea cup Raven had brewed for everyone, "To be fair, there's a reason for that Wars, there's technically a companion story for the witch, but the actors need to go through a specific series of actions to be allowed to perform it side by side for consistency and that would be cruel on Twi. Could say the same to you, you make quite the dashing, kind prince. Thanks for coming up here."

Was that a tinge of crimson on his cheeks? You tilted your head and blinked, must have been a trick of the light, "No problem at all."

Edgar nodded, not even looking up from the script as Anabella and Amelia cuddled together to the side after a job well done, "You both together definitely made our job easier. Barely had to cue you both."

Raven nodded with a grin and wink, their voice carrying over the stage and to the audience, "You sure none of you boys want to quit this questing nonsense and join us here on the Astoria? I pay well and give benefits! Byron has lowered prices on potions on the village, plus free food and lodging."

Wild shook his head with a hum, "Tempting, but still no."

Raven clucked, their disappointment exaggerated but understanding as they leafed through the scripts you've both brainstormed together, "Ah well, worth a try. Come here then, I want your opinion on our next pick for today, I think we can squeeze a short one separated from the original deal as a bonus."

You nodded, getting up and handing Priscilla the empty tea cup back before walking over, pausing, did... Was there a hollow space beneath the stage? Experimentally, you let your steps weight a bit more onto the stage. That sounded like a trapdoor, huh. Why only use the attic? Maybe it was stuck? You catch Time's eye, he inclines his head questioningly, you mouth at him 'I'm fine, later', then bound over to Raven's side, looking at the scripts, "Any you had in mind? We're probably exhausting my mental stock at this rate if none of the noted ones do."

"Well I'm not about to go on the Hyrulean ones just yet, you have any idea how performing the same old legends over and over again can grow dull? No matter how many twists and turns one adds?" They deadpan back, you cover a wince as Four and Sky twitch, before picking one of the sheets at random.

Your voice sounds distant to your ears as you pinch the parchment between two fingers, analyzing it critically, then presenting it to the director, "How about this one? Should be short enough right?"

The Director peeks over your shoulder, head tilted from side to side, the feather on their hair seems more bloody than usual, as if the crystal would flow crimson and stain the hardwood floor. That cat is back on their shoulder again, looking at you with sharp, intelligent eyes.

(Too intelligent, hisses your mind, as mercury heats into burning iron at a forge, then cools, something is wrong wrongwrong

Come now, relax, it'll all be alright. Play along

Nothing is wrong, it's all in your head.)

"Penta the Beautiful huh? Are you sure?"

You nod firmly, "Yes. This one will do quite nicely."

(Raven's ever present smile dims, the embers of a warm fireplace and stories around the fire dying a quick death, Anabella holds onto Amelia a bit tighter as Priscilla pales, quickly leaving the room guided by Byron after ushering you back stage for a change of ensemble and to hand you the appropriate props while Edgar resolutely keeps an eye on the cues the director handed him.

The Chain notices, because of course they do, and trade a look, Spirit trades a look with Wind and slips away to the entrance with Warriors to try the heavy door.

It's locked, the shock of magic making the captain hiss. Though the air remains unnervingly sterile.)

The stage is set with no fanfare by Byron, and you walk back out with a fine white dress suit and boots to match, a mix of a suit and a dress, your head feels clouded, as if you're trying to traverse the deep fog of the Lost Woods with naught a single lantern or guide in sight to light your way, you vaguely hear Director Raven start to talk, echoing and crowing raspily with the first words that every good tale start with, "Once upon a time, there was an once prosperous kingdom. Home to a handsome king, a beautiful queen, and the king's sister, one day the queen fell ill and eventually passed for no cure could be found and no magic could heal her. I suppose some things are simply fated to happen, but the king, maddened in his grief, started lusting for none other..." The director paused, sneering with a disgusted shiver, you think that if they truly were a bird, their feathers would be ruffled, "His own sister."

You could see the exact second that each Link cringed back, those with siblings of their own (or who actively looked over others as siblings themselves) turning to ash white and to thistle green with revulsion and horror, the director nodding along with a hand over their head in a mock swoon, "I know! How could such vile thoughts manifest in a ruler's mind? It's preposterous! Outrageous! Horrifying! Though the words of a proposal did indeed leave his mouth, his sister princess was equally bewildered and disgusted, spitting venom from her spleen with rage."

That was your cue.

You growled, snarling with fury hot enough to rival a dragon's flame, allowing poison to sharpen your tongue, "You may have lost your mind, but I shall not lose my modesty or my shame! Why would you offer me rotten eggs when you need fresh ones?! How dare you!", somewhere in the audience you hear a choke, but you continue on. Committing to the role with a dedication you didn't know you possibly possessed, feeling vaguely disconnected from your body and actions, "I regret that you have a tongue to speak of such lecherous actions towards myself and that I unfortunately have the ears to hear such a suggestion. Am I your sister or cheese cooked in oil? Either way those and siblings not mix! Either way, go find a holy spring to bathe in so you may set your mind back on straight." You gesture towards yourself, baffled, "I am not a morsel that would make anyone lose their minds over, so what on Farore's good land about me could have made you grown so sick in the head?"

The director continued on, tone dry as they set their hand on a hip, "I'll spare you the monologue, my dear audience, because I'm sure it would make both you, me and our poor performer here retch and that would be a waste of Sir Wild's lovely cooking. It essentially boiled down to her hands. So, after acquiring her answer, she left in a flurry of rage and conviction, after all, if it was her hands that caused this..." The director trailed off, pausing, mouth clicking shut.

As if not willing to continue on.

(The pain in your head was getting worse.

"If it was his love for her hands which caused this, all she'd need to do is chop them off.")

Conflict passes through their slate gray gaze, before determined resolve settles into it, their tone quiet and tight, "... No. I can't go through with this anymore.", They swivel, running to you with quick strides, you feel the agony of your head splitting open, in between the haze you see more than react to the blade. Your blade held in your hands, twisted in such a way to sink into your flesh, blood beads onto your sleeve before Raven catches your arm in their hands, twisting towards the now alarmed heroes with panic on their face like a someone realizing they'd just went somewhere to die, "Listen! It's not safe here, specially NOT for them. I'm so sorry. Take them and get out through-"

That cat is there in a flash of darkness, it sinks it's claws into Raven's shoulder, the director crying out and letting go of your arm to try and get it off, leaving the dagger to slice deeply. You can see Time slam into a magically erected barrier around the stage as it's crimson eyes gleam with malice and satisfaction. The cat bites at the director's shoulder, tearing away the black ribbon holding the red gem they always wore. You hear Legend screaming and Hyrule casting a spell at the barrier, the shockwave palpable as it does not budge

You'll never know what they wanted to tell you all, though the flash of desperation, guilt and apologies will likely haunt your nightmares as their head fell off.

All of the lights go off.

And in a flash of thunder, you hear a sigh behind you. The barest tips of a clawed hand making your skin crawl with revulsion.

"Well... I'd like to say I'm surprised. But I'm really, really not that they didn't have the nerve to fully go through with it. Pity." That awful, awful voice is colored with disappointment while they pass you by, you think you feel the brush of a scaly tail around your legs and a blade at your throat. You try desperately to wrestle control back to your own body when you can't hear the Chain anymore. They stalk dance gently at your side, the rustle of cloth as someone bends down, the crystalline, padparascha crimson feather Raven always wore in their hair gleams in the dark with a melancholic light of their own, "Ah well, at least they did half the job I wanted them to and held onto what I needed. Still, just proves that if you want somebody gone that you just have to do it yourself."

You feel a feather light touch on your chin, tilting your head up, your heart freezes alongside your body as you lock gazes with the bloodstone empty gaze of a feathery mask, the figure in front of you wears a dark hood, caliginous and fleeting like the memories of a nightmare hanging onto your mind by it's very claw tips. It blends in perfectly with the darkness, liminal and just on the edge of the negative spaces of reality.

They smile with all of the sweetness of rotten things and arsenic and it makes you sick.

"Dear me... You are so, so pathetically helpless like this. I can take my time with you, can't I? To tear everything that makes you yourself piece.by.piece..." the touch tightens, nightlock claws sink into your skin and drawing blood, you feel like screaming but your mouth won't open, your body betrays you as you drown and drown and fall. It makes the thing behind you hiss out a laugh and you are certain you won't hear a more wretched sound in your life as they study you like a pinned butterfly, "How very precious, it fills me with joy, but really it's more disappointing and disgusting. It's almost enough to make me want to die!" The being in front of you snarls, all venom and the burning flames of a madman, before they calm, smiling a dagger sharp, hateful grin with a hum, "... Ah, whatever. Let's get this show on the road properly this time, shall we? You wait for your cue darling." They mockingly pat the snout of the Shadow in front of you, narrowingly dodging a snap of teeth with a cackle, before they disappear in a flurry of obsidian and ember feathers.

They clap, and the light returns to the theater. Their mismatched hands are spread, clawed and gloved and you see a cloak of black feathers laid over their entire body, the tip of dagger sharp, silver heels making them tower easily over the pool of blood from the director's severed neck.

"Good evening, blood red dogs of Hylia!-"

They barely finish their sentence before the boys move, arrows and magic set loose at the figure in a blur, the figure dances back, tsking as they appear on the chandelier now, lounging nonchantly and revealing your form at blade point from the Shadow, struggling to remove your dagger from your arm. You can almost feel their disapproving look as they cross their arms at the face of furious glares from the heroes of Hyrule, "Rude."

First does not look amused as he stays Sky's hand from unleashing a Skyward Strike, the other's eyes as frigid as the storm outside, "We are going to need you to let our companion go before any apologies are given I'm afraid."

"And I'll be needing you lot to stop snapping and growling like mutts before making any negotiations like that." The figure snaps back primly, a pot and tea cup appearing nearby, with a flick of their wrist two things appear on their hands as freshly brewed tea poured itself which makes a shiver fun down your side, alarm and panic gnawing at your skin and exposing your fragile heart with almost clinical curiosity as they toss it down.

A dark iris purple Minish Feather earring, and penumbra dark, torn fairy feathers, you think you still see the bits of wisps clinging to it like blood and the exact moment Four tenses, colors prismatic as they flash over his eyes and Hyrule freezes, Twilight sending them a concerned look, though his hand doesn't move from his sword.

The display is enough to keep your companions on guard, but not react, that thing atop the chandelier perfectly positioned to crush you without a second thought leisurely sipping tea. Before addressing the Chain below, "Now that I've successfully gotten your attention by indicating the extermination of vermin I've had to recently do, why don't we talk? I'm perfectly reasonable, I promise not to bite or anything, blood is quite the nuisance to clean off rhe stage after all."

"Very well," Time's voice cuts through the silence, composed even as his mind is running a mile per minute, "May we make some inquiries?"

Their lips curl in amusement, a slightly mocking edge to their relaxed lilt, "There we go, was being polite so hard? You may, one at a time though!" They look down at the Shadow, which hisses up at them, eyes focused on the heroes, the edges of it's existence flickering oddly, casting itself over walls and the now scorched wooden floor, "Don't want to agitate our friend here you know? Or else we'll have a sparrow singing very very soon." They sing song, you can feel Warriors cringe where he stands, but he's also the first one to jump to questioning at Time's slight nod.

"Why are you working with the Shadow?"

The figure shrugs, pouring themselves a second mug, "Why does anyone do anything? Complete and utter, sheer boredom is why. It had a good sales pitch won't lie, I haven't been bored since you lot decided to stay here."

You see the way Legend's eyes narrow, a scowl on his face and tone biting, itching to move, "What did you do to them?"

"You'll have to be more specific, if you mean your little friend here. Nothing really, they came up on the stage and used the knife themselves after all." The masked figured clucked, shrugging, "As for the rest, you can blame Raven. They lost their nerve when they shouldn't have and dragged the troupe down with them, when I gave them one job besides watching my theater, plus..." they sighed, placing Raven's feather by the thorns holding the mask grafted onro their face, clicking their clawed, bloody hand agaisnt the tea cup, uncaring when your blood mixes with the sugar cubes, "They also failed to do proper research, I mean doesn't help certain nasty little disgraces-" they growl pointedly at the Shadow at that, who snarls back, making a twisted duet of mutual, black loathing come to life, "Also made their job harder, but seriously. Even a braindead donkey could have done a bit more research."

"What do you mean? No need to insult Raven like that! They were nice." Blurted out Spirit, you can practically feel the poor dear itching to snap the whip to snatch you, Wind holding onto his an Cal's wrists like a vice so they wouldn't make any sudden moves, First tapping Calamity's back and looking at the hooded being's perch, making Calamity's eyes narrow and Sky slowly let go of the possible Skyward Strike, thankfully enough. Being crushed to death would not help your boys get out of here.

The hooded and masked figure twitched, head listing lazily to the side, unhurried, as if bored or maybe dissapointed as they sighed apathetically, it gave you gooseflesh, but you dared not move an inch, struggling against your own limbs and with the Shadow at your back, "I mean I was just taken by surprise. You know, I wouldn't have taken the heroes of Hyrule for liars and oath breakers, and also against the laws of hospitality. Shooting arrows and magic at your host within their own home? For shame! Didn't your parents teach you better?"

You could see how each of the heroes bristled, but seeing crimson beading against your unwilling, trapped skin stayed their blade, though that did not stop Legend from snarling up at the hidden figure, sipping tea as if it was watching an incredibly entertaining play, "Oath breakers? That's rich coming from you! Raven said we could stay here safely and then leave once the storm was over!"

"And you attacked one of our own first." Added Warriors, his tone as glacial as the winter winds, enough to freeze anyone down to the marrow.

They incline their head, voice distorted, the screaming echo of scavengers like nails on chalkboard and as refined as a well curated blade, "True, though neither they nor I never said you'd all leave unharmed, did we? And you didn't keep your end of the deal either." Their tone goes dryer, as they throw the tea cup away without a care in favor of throwing their hands up, as if it was the Chain being unreasonable and not the person who presumably did something to Shadow and Hyrule's own Shade, you can see Sky barely keeping his grip on an enraged Four, "Besides! I didn't attack them, they kindly volunteered to go up stage on their own. You're all so up in arms for something that's part of the performance, a little injury is a small price to pay for the bit."

"A 'little injury'?! I doubt they'd try cutting off their own hands for a BIT." Stressed Hyrule, snapping out of his shock, in response to that, the cloaked person shrugged.

"I mean a little disarment never killed anyone."

Wild looked seconds from firing another arrow, teeth gritted and bared as Twilight sent a furious glare to the one perched atop the stage, just above the lights, ready to knock them down and crush you if needed be, "I'm pretty sure it has, actually."

"Anyway! You're all so caught up on semantics, by the Three, so uptight. Does having the splinters so far up there not sting?" they glanced at the Shadow, the obsidian and granite lizalfos glancing back at them before hissing at Time, ready to lunge, teeth stained with Director Raven's blood, "This the kind of tough crowd you have to deal with? Yeesh, no wonder you yap more than a kicked dog at times." They turn back to the Chain, clapping their hands, "In any case, let's make another deal, shall we? I'm a playwright of my word after all. You could leave your little friend here to become one of my actors and go on your merry way." You swore you felt your heart stop, blood rushing in your ears, you barely caught the sharp glint of a hollow smile beneath the crow shaped mask and their next words, "Or! If you're really that attached-", they send you a bemused look, "Can't see why but hey," shrugging, they continue on, unrelenting like a hunting wolf, "You can act instead. I'll send you all into different tales and should you finish them in accordance to the script, I may let you just leave without too much of a fuss. No catches." They point to the Shadow, "Can't make any promises for that one though, it's a solo act you see, if anything I'm just lending the venue and he was lucky to rent first, the wretch."

"And if we refuse?" Probed Time, you could see the gears turning in his head like clockwork, trying to find a way to swing this in everyone's favor so you all can get out alive.

The vulture in crow skin only smiled wider, "Then none of us gets them and you die here, I'll let the Shadow tear you apart to it's void soul's delight, and kill them on the spot." The blades press against your arms against your will, and you twitch, trying to wrestle control back and only getting pain for you troubles, muffling a yell, "Maybe put them in a soup and make jewelry out of the bones that I don't reuse in a broth, I'd look pretty dashing in a crown." They giggle, unhinged cruelty into every word as they clap their hands, voice rising to a screeching crescendo, "Oh oh! Or just roll them down a barrel filled with spikes on a hill, or make them dance and dance and dance on hot iron shoes until they drop dead! Haven't decided yet, so many choices, so little time. It's almost enough to leave me hot and bothered." The true owner of the theater sighed, longingly hugging themselves before turning a cold, hard tone to the heroes, "You sure you want to risk that?"

Silence descends upon the theater like a widow's shroud, seems you're all at an impasse, you're unable to move and while you're certain your boys could overpower whatever that monstrosity is and deal with the Shadow, none of you could be sure they could do it before the Shadow slit your throat or that being (person? No, it felt too unnatural to be human.) Knocked the chandelier down or made good on their threat.

The masked unknown simply summoned themseles a second mug, pouring more tea, "Take your time to answer. I can wait. Though if you ask me the choice is extremely obvious, come on now, what's one more or one less for your little group? It's not like they're important to the narrative anyway-"

"No tricks?" Cut in First, you see the being twotch at the interruption.

"Rude. Seriously, does Hylia just likes to pick the feral ones and set them loose upon the world? Seems like bad business." They pause, then hum, "Then again, maybe not, I hear her incarnations can be quite unhinged. Quite the match made in hell, you lot then and those Demise decides to live rent free in huh? I almost feel bad now. Yikes, my condolences." They pluck a bouquet of camellias, roses and acacias from the inside of their cloak and throw it down to the Chain. You're not even surprised when Wild snags the fire rod from Legend and sets it aflame.

"Holding our friend hostage and talking about actively killing them doesn't inspire us to play nice." Gritted out Four. Grip tight onto his sword.

"If you feel bad then just let them go!" Gestured Wind from his side.

"Your criticism has been noted. I only don't concede because I can't see any reason why you'd want them around." The figure drawls back before answering First, "No tricks or catches or too much of a fuss, all you have to do is play along the script and play nice. Do that and in theory we shouldn't have much trouble. Maybe I'll even be nice and throw in one of those rewards like the places you all crawl through do on occasion, why not?" The Shadow roars at that, they snap down at it, "My theater, my rules! I'm bored okay? Let me spice things up!"

Time breathes, you can see the lonsdaleite persistence come back to the forefront, "Then we accept."

The figure stills, before shaking their head, they leap down from the chandelier, gliding across the stage with quick steps as the feeling of drowning recedes, the Shadow begrudgingly letting you go as you gasp, the figure snags your arm in one clawed hand, drags you to the edge of the stage, then kicks you off with a sigh, thankfully, Twilight and Warriors are there ro support you as they turn towards Time, tone blank as they extend that same clawed hand, "Way to pick the boring choice, but fine. I shouldn't expect much of a surprise I suppose." They shake hands, you feel the hum of magic settle into the air, twisted and wrong it almosy brings that drowning feeling back, water trying to pull you down as they grin and step back, opening a blank, black book, snagging the crystalline quill and using your blood as ink, they write, everything goes dark quickly as the Shadow snuffs out every light again as it dissolves, spreading ober every single nook and cranny of the open space.

You think they bare their teeth at you specifically before snapping the book shut, "Let me weave you a tale!"

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

Scene IIII End. Thus closes the Opening Act.

#linked universe x reader #linked universe au #lu x reader #linked universe fairy tale au #fairy tale typical violence #fairy tale typical dark themes #reference to Penta of the Chopped Off Hands #told y'all not to get attached to the theater crew #Reader is going through it and frankly it's probably gonna go downhill from there #wonder how many will catch the reference with Twilight #I thought it would be cute to be fair. Reader has a lot of knowledge from our world and they'd likely convert as many stories as they could #for variety if nothing else #Dink's hired help here just wants to watch the world burn and preferably roast Reader over a fire while at it #why? that's for me to know and y'all to find out lol #they're not really relevant to the plot. they're just here to kick it into gear. cause chaos. be dramatic and bully Dink #specially if he messes up the venue #No Shadow Links were Permanently Harmed in the Making of this Chapter #WintertimeStoryteller Stop Clowning Yourself and Stick to the OG Outline Challenge (Failed Miserably)#That moment when you write and rewrite the chapter and has a nice little plan for the story #but sleep deprivation and life happens so you have to throw it out the window #Reade is all over the place because they're meant to don't worry. The theater just Does That #no beta we die like my sanity #no beta we die like First and the Hero's Shade #WintertimeStoryteller Writing #Hopefully it's at least half decent

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Secret Invasion (TV 2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Characters: Maria Hill, Everett Ross, Talos (Marvel), Soren (Marvel), Nick Fury, Sonya Falsworth, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Gravik (Marvel) Summary: Prior to the events in Secret Invasion: In the fall 2024 Talos and Soren get a sense of Gravik's plans to start a skrull rebellion, but Gravik evades them. Skrull Raava has been impersonating Colonel James Rhodes & Everett Ross has been replaced by a skrull. Maria Hill is hired by the CIA in order for Ross an Rhodey to keep tabs on her and any contact she makes with Nick Fury.

This story explains the background of how Maria and Talos got tangled up with this Rhodey/Ross/Gravik web. It explains how and why Maria was just randomly in Russia and how she started working with "Ross." This story also explores the emotional trauma from the blip and the mess that those who returned were thrown into--Maria being one of them.

London - September 1, 2024 - 1:43 AM After the events of Spider-Man: Far From Home.

Talos and Soren, still disguised as Nick Fury and Maria Hill have been working on clearing up the aftermath of the events that left London in havoc. With their crew they remained underground trying to piece things together, never letting their true forms known. The mess up that Talos had fallen for had cost lives, it endangered so many. The real Nick Fury and Maria Hill would be furious—truly. But the world had changed, Fury said nothing about it he had dived off into space, setting up S.A.B.E.R space station, hiding from his problems.

One evening, Soren could tell she was being followed, her senses for danger were enhanced by her impersonation of Maria who had unbelievable skills of detection and defense. She ducked around the edge of the dark wet underground tunnel in which she had been walking. She silently pulled her gun from her holster.

“Hill!” Fury’s voice called out from around the ledge, but Soren knew it wasn’t Talos. It couldn’t be Fury for real, she knew where he was.

Soren remained silent behind the ledge but she could tell the Fury imposter was right on the other side.

“Are you running from me?” Fury’s voice repeated.

“We don’t have to play this game.” Gravik shifted from Fury back into his usual human form, his voice becoming clear.

Soren heard Gravik’s voice and she was still uneasy, she remained impersonated Maria. Maria had better defenses than her, using her form came with skills she didn’t have herself. Soren was so close to getting to Talos, but she didn’t Gravik to get to him either. She knew he had been up to dark dealings.

“C’mon, show yourself.” Gravik continued.

Soren stayed still as she debated what Gravik knew, did he know she wasn’t Maria Hill, could he sense a fellow skrull. Maria and Gravik did know each other, but why would he follow her as Fury?

“What’s wrong?” Gravik asked almost evilly, like he knew he had her cornered.

“Do you have a bad feeling about me?” Gravik asked again as he stepped closer, ready to take her out.

Soren looked at her options, she cornered herself around the edge of a brick wall, a small corridor. She noticed some bricks in he wall sticking out. She pulled her gun up close to her.

“I know what you’re doing. I know what you’re planning, you’re going to lose and a lot of people are…” Soren started but Gravik stepped around the corridor and started shooting. Soren ducked over to the other side of the wall, low to the ground as she aimed up and shot at Gravik, shooting him in the upper arm.

His arm turned bright green from the shot then a fierce red and orange fiery glow before it healed itself. Gravik froze as he healed. Soren kept shooting at him while he froze, each bullet hole healing itself in the bright glow.

What was this!? Soren was stunned, was Gravik invincible? How?

In an effort to get away, Soren rained fire over Gravik as the healing mechanism did make him pause for a few moments. Gravik flung backwards from the pain of the bullets and Soren bolted through the opening back into the open tunnel she raced down the dark damp tunnel as fast as she could but then she heard a shot and she spilled to the ground.

Then she felt the burning forceful pain embed into her shoulder, she turned from her Maria Hill form into her true self, as the purple blood spilled out of her. She crawled forward to lean up against the wall as she heard Gravik’s slow pacing behind her. “Did you think you could get away from me?” Gravik called out in a menacing yet gleeful manner.

Soren turned herself, she fired her gun at Gravik but it was empty.

“And what would that have done?” Gravik laughed at her attempt. Soren didn’t dare call for help she was afraid Talos would get caught up in this too, even though he was so close.

“You’re a traitor, and you know what happens to traitors?” Gravik asked as he held his gun up in Soren’s face.

“You’re a traitor! You’re going to get us all killed!” Soren yelled at him hatefully.

“Thousands of us will die if you do this!” She added.

“I’d let all of us die if it meant all of them would die too.” Gravik muttered hatefully as he cocked his gun back. It was true, he didn’t care if every skrull died as long every human died too. If they couldn’t live peacefully and free, why should the humans?

“You’d cause all that suffering for nothing!” Soren yelled at Gravik as she knew her time was ending soon.

“In the end, all suffering is for nothing.” Gravik spoke like he was some thoughtful poet and the fired a shot into Soren’s skull. Her purple blood spattered the ground and her shocked yet lifeless face laid on the damp cold ground.

Gravik raced out of the tunnel to not be caught with Soren’s deceased body.

Only a minute away, Talos came from the other end of the tunnel when Soren never arrived. As he raced through the tunnel, he got a sense of something ominous.

“SOREN!” Talos yelled.

“SOREN!!” Talos yelled again in anguish as he reached her body on the ground. Soren and Talos were catching onto Gravik’s plans, the rumors were becoming true, he had something devastating coming, he fomenting his rebellion. He must’ve known they were getting close to him. The skulls who weren’t with Gravik, were against him, and he was making them pay before they could stop him. The dark tunnel was empty now, Talos couldn’t hear a sound. He was going to have to hide Soren’s body before someone else came and found them.

He crouched down beside his wife. Anger, grief, and devastation all began to swell into his mind as he saw the painful agony and the loss of his love on this cold wet ground, dying alone, in fear, without him. How could this have happened. Tears poured from his eyes as he was shocked from the grief, as he could clearly see Soren before him, lifeless, but it still didn’t feel real. They were just together an hour ago, she couldn’t really be gone now! A bitter empty misery washed over him, a pain that he knew but was not ready to feel agin as he held Soren’s body in his arms.

He was going to have to stop Gravik, on his own, before it was too late. He knew finding a home or living peacefully among humans safely was what Soren had wanted, and they had done so for such a long time. But in reality, it cost them their family, now it cost Soren her life. ———- Wednesday, November 6, 2024 Prior to the events of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever From a CNN news broadcast:

“It was a landslide victory for President Ritson in the U.S. election today, President-elect Ritson will start his first term on January 20, 2025. The President-elect’s party picked up two additional Senate seats with an unprecedented four senate seats running off into special elections set for late February. This news comes as many of the Blip returnees were still unable to participate in this years election due to the long processing delays to integrate them back into government systems. Riots broke out last night all over the United States but were quelled quickly.

In August, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that those hoping to participate in the 2024 election but could not due to being purged from voter rolls during the Blip were not being denied a constitutional right as the reason for their delay back into the system was ‘routine processing delays due to the unique situation before the local, state, and federal government’ and not a ‘systematic effort to reduce voter turnout or disenfranchise voters’ as many claimed.

President-elect Ritson claimed he will create an agency to work with all state and local agencies to ensure that all Americans have their rights fully restored and receive the recognition and support necessary to get their lives back normal. ”

The newscaster read off the prompter effortlessly. Then, the broadcast cut to President-elect Ritson giving a victory speech. Ritson was behind a podium, people cheering in front of him a giant American flag in the background.

“I will ensure with every effort of my administration that all Americans have the right to vote and participate in our democracy and all of you are back in your homes with your families. I promise that you will return to the life that you know and deserve! We do not have a world of returnees and those who remained, we are one nation united in our great effort to get things back to normal and safe for all Americans!” Ritson passionately called out to cheers of many in the crowd.

Then CNN broadcast then went to his Ritson’s opponent going his concession speech, Senator Mike Kirby, an older man yet a populist candidate with a great deal of support from younger voters. He was an independent, conservative in some areas, liberal in others, no real party alignment. Senator Kirby thought what was happening to the returnees was a great injustice and that is who he aimed his messages at.

“While I cannot refute the election results by the numbers, I can tell you that this election was rigged! The establishment denied you you’re right to vote because they knew you would not vote for them, they knew you need more than they will ever offer and the establishment is, and will always, leave those in need in the dust! They have never thrived so well as when half of us disappeared into that dust and that is exactly where they leave all of you!! They do this for their own financial and political gain! They want our returnees to struggle, they want it to take a long time, they do not want you to be smart or succeed—you’re the others, this is how they want you to feel, they want to divide and conquer so they can secure corporate and political power while you fight each other!” Senator Kirby called out emotionally to a booing and yelling crowd, many of which were unable to cast votes for him.

Late on Tuesday night after the elections as called, riots broke out on the streets calling the election a sham, but all of the chaos was subdued with strict military style enforcement.

Washington D.C. - January 24, 2025 - 10:32 AM Four days after President Ritson’s inauguration.

The weather was frightfully cold, 13 degrees F. Freezing rain spilled down in heavy icy drops, in a random indiscernible pattern, sometimes large drops, sometimes small sprinkles. the sky was an ash gray from the cloud cover. The cold air had a bitter bite that you could feel on your skin, the side walks were littered in slush and composting leaves that were never fully cleared, a mix of sand, salt, leaves, and ice made the sidewalks nearly impossible to navigate.

This was January weather, it was always like this, yet no one was ever prepared for it. Little things like the weather just didn’t stack up anymore. The newly fractured world between the vanished and those who had remained was beginning to show as countless Americans had been denied their right to participate in the election, ensuring the win of an only luke warm establishment candidate, someone who was not making the returnees a priority.

Ritson’s opponent, Senator Kirby had bold ideas, new ideas, and some thought he favored the recently returned too much. It turned out not to be a great campaign strategy as Senator Kirby was banking on the Supreme Court allowing all those who were waiting to vote again to be allowed to vote. He never considered that the Supreme Court would say a processing delay due to the high volume of returnees was not a constitutional problem—as the phrase goes, ‘justice delayed is justice denied,’ yet apparently when it came to re-registering and reintegrating 150 million people who were declared dead or vanished and purged from voter rolls years ago (among everything else they were removed from) justice was going to be a little delayed since there was just no protocol for this type of thing. As the Government argued in court, they had many programs in place and were working with state and local governments but the sheer volume and the lack of workers just overwhelmed the system beyond belief. The Court was sympathetic to these efforts as the government was clearly trying to do something not just ignoring the returnees.

Many talented people returned to a new life on earth where they once knew everything and now knew nothing. It had been over a year, and Maria Hill did not have a job, she had tried to get a job, she tried to get her own job back, she tried multiple times to get any job. But her former job didn’t technically exist anymore, and the people who worked in the places she used to work were unfamiliar to her, many of them didn’t know who she was and she didn’t know who they were.

One thing Maria had noticed was that everyone looked so young, these kids advanced in their positions so quickly due the lack of people to make up the people needed to keep the government and national security functioning. In addition, Maria was far from the only talented person trying to get her job back. She was competing with people just like herself. No one knew what to tell anyone at first. People had barely comprehended that the blip even happened and finally once things started to have the slightest sense of a new normal, suddenly everyone returned. It was impossible to pick up where they left off.

Maria and many others suffered from being ‘dead on paper’ despite being very clearly and obviously alive. They couldn’t get credit cards, buy cars, or vote, or have bank accounts, get loans, or even get legitimate jobs. Maria was quite lucky, her mother Elizabeth did not blip, and she saved many of Maria’s things, her money, her personal affects. Elizabeth couldn’t part with her daughter’s belongings, it was all that was left of her.

After Maria returned, she was living with her mother, in Alexandria, Virginia, just 30 minutes from D.C. Her mother was happy about having time to spend together. Elizabeth, like so many others, believed they had lost their loved ones for good, but for Maria she had only been gone an instant and suddenly five years of her life was gone. But in that instant Maria and the others returned to an entirely new world, it was hard to comprehend.

When Maria first returned from the snap, she and Fury were straight into action as things were so hectic as a raging battle went on. She couldn’t even think about what had happened—she didn’t even understand what had happened. She and Fury almost died upon their resurrection as the returned in the middle of the road.

But, then, finally, Thanos was defeated and everything came to light, Natasha was gone, Tony was gone, Steve was gone. Maria’s relationships and friendships were gone in a blink of an eye. As Maria and Fury tried to go through everything that had happened, it became so clear that they really knew nothing and had very few people in their corner now, it was like vanishing a second time all over again. After Maria and Nick tried to put the puzzle together, they started to drift a part. Then Nick disappeared, and Maria started to hear less and less from him. Maybe they needed a break from each other. Maria couldn’t depend on Nick for everything, she was her own person and some of the things Nick started doing out of paranoia concerned her. Ultimately, not that long after the Battle for Earth, the two of them separated to pick up the pieces of their personal lives, since their professional lives simply did not exist anymore.

Nick went to his wife, Maria to her mother’s, that was the only family she had. At first the emotions of the blip and the loss it generated didn’t really hit Maria, and then it was like a swift brick hit her on the head. Maria became overwhelmed with depression at first, she never got to say goodbye to Natasha or thank her for all the work she had done over the last five years, and Natasha had done so much, alone, trying to keep the world together. It was heartbreaking when Maria found out what happened to Natasha it gave her a very dark sense of despair. Steve, Natasha, and Tony were the closest people she had in the Avenger’s world beside Nick, and now it was like everyone was gone. The Avengers Era was truly over, at least the era she was a part of.

It’s not that Maria wasn’t thankful to be revived and brought back to the world, but a part of her struggled to understand why they didn’t or couldn’t go back in time and reverse the snap from the start—She knew they could, she and Fury went over things they figured stuff out from what was left behind, the talked to Scott Lang and Bruce Banner. The way it came about people returning five years later, their lives destroyed with no way back into the world it was just so complicated this way. But then she realized both situations were bad. Everyone born in the last five years disappeared in the reverse, and it would be a second vanishing. She felt selfish for even wishing it had happened another way, but the loss was all so heavy. She didn’t dare say these things out loud, but she had never felt heartbreak so deeply when she realized what Natasha and Tony had done and given up for everyone. At least it sounded like their decisions, from what she heard.

Usually Maria could pour her emotions into work and never deal with them, but she had to spend all this time just thinking about her emotions and processing the world now. It was awful. She couldn’t even get a job a bank or a grocery store because it still said she was dead and she would do anything to not having to keep thinking about what she had gone through and lost and what everyone around her had gone through and lost.

Experiencing the blip made living feel so insignificant and also so important at the same time. Feeling your life just disappear in an instant in front of you, it was indescribable. The weird part was that was always the case, snap or no snap, life could always just be over in an instant. Yet, dying and coming back made you feel it more deeply, in a way you could not explain to others, in a way you didn’t want to explain to them. But if you blipped, you knew where you were going after this life and it was to nowhere with no one… everyone’s life is in the grand scheme of things just a blip.

Maria couldn’t think about this stuff, she needed to do something. But Fury was dealing with his own issues and she was jobless, almost all her friends were dead or gone, and on paper she still didn’t technically exist, so her options were slim. She spent her time trying to catch up on events in the world, figure what out what she missed, get in touch with others, and learn some new skills because the likelihood of her going back to any type of leadership position or national security position seemed to get less and less likely everyday.

Maria walked on the dangerous sidewalk as she was let into the visitor gate at the White House and waded into the security line for those who had appointments. It was a very long line as everyone was eager to see the new President and a lot of things were being figured out. As she checked in with her four forms of identification at the security check point, the guard sighed as she was flagged by the system.

“Oh were you— did you— …” the guard at the check in struggled for what was the polite thing to say as Maria’s ID flagged her. “Have you recently returned … to life?” The guard struggled to ask his face grimaced as he asked those words. He used to directly ask people if they “blipped” but the government trainings on appropriate conduct suggested this was rude and insensitive, as those who blipped felt marginalized.

“Uhm.. yes a little over a year ago.” Maria confirmed after a pause. She was shocked from the awkward phrasing, it made her laugh a little under her breath, but when she thought about it technically that was how to say what happened to her and billions of others, ‘they recently returned to life.’ It kind of sounded like what they would ask newly released convicts about to enter the free world again.

Maria had to bring four forms of ID to enter the building, it didn’t change anything, or make it easier for her to be processed. But with the security needs for the White House and people so easily able to steal identities they had to be extra careful.

“Yeah, your identification, it flagged you. Some of your identification, it still has you as ‘unrecovered’ or ‘deceased’ or ‘presumed deceased’ or ‘vanished’ you know the system it’s updating as fast as it can…” the guard explained he could see from her photo and her numerous IDs that she was the person she claimed to be.

“I know, I’m in a queue, they’re working on it. It’s taking awhile…” Maria tried not to roll her eyes.

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it, my sister, my brother, my sister-in-law and my nephew, it’s the same thing. They have to live with us, they can’t do anything. Some things say they’re dead, some things say they are ‘unrecovered’ or status pending, or some things recognize them as being alive but because their other things still say their dead…” The security guard groaned on. He was so tired of having to share his house with his returned family members, not that he didn’t miss them, and that he wasn’t happy he was back, but it was taking so long to get people back into the world. He had to go through this every day with some people at security.

“Uhm the thing is, is that we can’t let anyone in the building who we can’t verify their identity.” The guard gave Maria an unfortunate look. He felt bad, he could clearly see Maria was Maria but he had to get a green check from the verification system and he didn’t. “Ah. I understand, but I was summoned…” Maria turned her head and she bit her lip.

“Uhhhh okay, hold on.” The guard looked on his computer screen for anything on ‘Maria Elizabeth Hill.’ And his expression changed to surprise as there her name was in his own system.

“From Colonel Rhodes?” The guard asked shocked, that was a very high level person requesting this woman’s whose identity he couldn’t’ confirm. Rhodes was a Senior Advisor to the President, if he was asking for this woman she was probably important, and probably who she claimed she was.

“Yes.” Maria confirmed.

The guard looked at the notes, her entry was approved personally by Colonel Rhodes. But this did go against protocol, technically to come in you had to have your IDs fixed, but it wasn’t her fault there was a long list of people trying to get things organized and back into government systems.

“Okay, just hold on one second so we can get someone to escort you…” the guard mumbled.

It had been a very long time since Maria had been held up in a security checkpoint at a government building. At one time in her life she could just waltz right in. That wasn’t the case anymore, apparently she needed a security escort just to get where she was asked to be. She had no idea why Rhodes wanted to see her, but she wasn’t going to say no, she literally had nothing else to do.

Maria had noticed everyone who worked in this building, at least most of them, were so young. As she caught up with what happened in the five years she was gone, she learned that much of the younger generation didn’t go to college, they went into jobs, bodies and people were needed to keep things running. The economy crumbled and people couldn’t afford college anyway with half the worlds’ income earners and spenders just vanishing. These much younger people, took the jobs of people many years their senior, without experience just to have someone there to try and figure it out.

A very young man, maybe eighteen or nineteen years old who was dressed in formal marines wear escorted Maria to Colonel Rhodes office. Maria started in the marines when she was his age, and she definitely didn’t work in the white house at that time. Maria tried to talk to the young officer, telling him she was in the marines too, but he was very quiet. Referring to her as ‘ma’am’ and agreeing with her “yes ma’am” “thank you, ma’am” “right here ma’am.” It wasn’t much of a conversation. To be honest, she thought he seemed kind of afraid.

‘The children are running the place.’ That’s all she could think of when she saw their young faces everywhere. It was like being in a bizarre horror film, where these young kids were more qualified than you to do anything. But the sad thing was, that their youth had been stolen from them, their experience as young teens in the world was derailed, and they felt just as out of place as they looked, they were kids. It hurt to see them this way.

Maria hadn’t seen Rhodey since Tony Stark’s memorial, and they didn’t talk much then. Everything was too heavy to process, the wounds too fresh, the state of things unimaginable then. She had no idea why Rhodey wanted to see her, she thought she was a footnote in his life. But she guessed Rhodey wanted to talk to her about Nick.

Rhodey stepped out of his office, seeing Maria the first time in a year. Maria was wearing a pantsuit with… combat boots (because it was wet and cold outside) but he didn’t think anything of it. Really, Raava thought it was a killer look to be honest, and she was going to steal it when she could be herself again.

“Colonel Rhodes, Senior Advisor to the President.” Maria greeted when she saw him.

“Why does it feel like a dig when you say that?” Rhodey laughed in a casual tone.

“A dig!? No of course not.” Maria clarified, the two fell into a natural back forth that they once had for a short time as old friends.

Raava knew that Rhodey once had feelings for Maria that were more than friendly but it never went anywhere. When Raava saw Maria at the memorial, she made Rhodey act standoffish to Maria as Raava could tell Rhodey’s feelings for her were very deep. Keeping Maria way from Rhodey was strategically important for Raava. But, now keeping Maria close was critical. Raava and Maria weren’t actually that different, work oriented females in male dominated fields. If Maria hadn’t been a human, maybe they’d even be friends.

“Agent… Hill?” Rhodey addressed. It was more of a question than a statement, this was true even for Maria. Who was she now?

“I don’t think that’s right anymore..no one has called me that in quite some time.” Maria joked, Rhodey laughed.

“It doesn’t feel right not to say it…” he clarified and walked her into his office. Maria sat across from Rhodey at his desk. His office was set up perfectly with his awards and honors, a photo of him with Tony right on his desk.

“Where are you staying?” Rhodey asked, meaning what hotel was she at.

“In Alexandria.”

“Oh, that’s far, do you want to stay downtown? I can get you set up down the street.”

“No, I live there..”

“Oh! You live there now?” He asked surprised, he had an old address for her since none of her information was updated.

“Yeah, I’m just an adult woman who lives with her mother, who can’t get a job or an apartment, or a credit card.” Maria said it like it was a joke and not her grim reality.

“Ahh, yeah. We’ll have to get that fixed for you.” Rhodey paused as he typed something into his computer.

“You can help me with that?” Maria asked surprised. Rhodey was a very busy guy and she couldn’t burden him with that.

“Well I am, ‘Colonel Rhodes, Senior Advisor to the President’.” he repeated jokingly and she shook her head no at him, like repeating his own title was not classy.

“We’ll call it veteran’s preference, then.” He adjusted his joke with a little laugh, even though he knew what happened to her was not funny at all. He wanted to help, he was amazed she hadn’t reached out for any.

“If you help me it’s not like knocking anyone else out of line, right?” Maria just didn’t like that kind of stuff.

“No. As, it turns out if 3 billion people disappear and then come back into the world five years later it is challenging to navigate and integrate them back into the world and get everything back up to speed, even just acknowledging their existence again. It’s new territory we’re trying to figure it out and keep everyone safe, get everything back to what we can call ‘normal.’” Rhodey explained, he didn’t want talk down to her or sound defensive but this was something they were dealing with nonstop.

Maria did not look impressed, sure it was an impossible task with no practical solution, but the government needed to get its shit together, people were dying from homelessness who used to own houses that were sold to corporations or other people in their absences. People couldn’t go back to their apartments, to their jobs, they lost their cars, their retirement savings. Wills were executed, people lost everything and there was no pathway or structure to get things back. Lots of people gave up hope that they would never see their loved ones again, children grew up without knowing their mothers or fathers or siblings, children who were born after their siblings were now older than them. People who were married came back to find their partners had married someone else! Everything about this was wrong and frustrating, there were no good solutions but complaining about it or trying to point out the problems made people feel like they were being ungrateful for returning. They didn’t ask to vanish but they didn’t ask to come back to their lives in shambles either.

“Have you been traveling?” Rhodey asked trying to make small talk.

“Traveling? I can’t. My passport doesn’t work, it says I’m dead still.” Maria reminded.

“Well. You and I both know you used to be able to work around things like that.”

“Emphasis on used to…” Maria mumbled.

“So.. no… huh?” Rhodey confirmed. The question really wasn’t small talk, it was prying. He knew Maria and Fury really hadn’t been Europe as was reported but he didn’t know what Maria knew, if she knew skrull imposters of her and Fury were there. Even if she did, she probably would never let on.

“I’m surprised you’re not up on S.A.B.E.R with Fury.” He stated causally.

“Damnit. I knew I was supposed to be somewhere.” Maria mumbled sarcastically with a smirk.

Rhodey looked at Maria pleased that she was still herself joking sarcastically. He had missed her a lot. Rhodey’s true human emotions seeped into the mind of his skrull imposter. Raava was still there, and surprisingly she too was fond of Maria in some way that she could not tell was truly her own feelings or Rhodey’s true feelings. Raava knew that keeping a close eye on Maria was a way to keep a close eye on Fury too, eventually. Knowing where Maria was and what she was doing was beneficial, and Maria wanted to be working so Rhodey was going to help her. Ritson wanted Maria to be working too, he thought she would be a great candidate for some leadership roles.

Rhodey titled his head at her like he was really wondering why Fury was on S.A.B.E.R. and she wasn’t.

“Eh, I wasn’t invited. But that’s okay, I like my feet on the ground. And it is probably good, since some of us have to stay on earth and try to deal with the mess that’s here, instead of hiding up there.” Maria slipped up, she didn’t mean to say hiding.

“Hiding? Is that shade? Did you and Fury depart on bad terms?” Rhodey was surprised Nick and Maria used to be thick as thieves, best friends as he recalled.

“We didn’t depart on any terms, literally. So if you’re trying to somehow reach him, I promise I am not someone who can help you. And, by the way, he’s far more likely to return a call from ‘Colonel Rhodes, Senior Advisor to the President.’” Maria added, now she was sure she was here to talk about Nick.

“Okay, that one was a dig.” Rhodey looked at Maria more seriously.

“A little.” She smirked.

Rhodey paused and thought about it, okay that was true. Then he realized who Maria reminded him of, Tony Stark. She was witty, confident, and smart like Tony. Raava recalled the memories of when Maria worked at Stark Industries, with Tony, that’s when Rhodey got feelings for her. That’s when they hung out the most, then she went right back with Nick, and he barely saw her again they were both working so much. Then Rhodey was hurt and replaced with Raava and nothing ever happened between Maria and Rhodey.

“I want you to go back to work. We need you to go back to work, is what I mean. Do you want a job?” Rhodey asked bluntly.

“Yes.” Maria answered just as blunt and quickly.

Rhodey paused and grinned at his friend.

“You are so eager and you don’t even know what it is.”

“This is very minor suspense for me.” She joked.

“Well I might have a job for you.” Rhodey started

“Might? Because one second ago it sounded like you had one for sure…” Maria sounded disappointed.

“If you think you’re ready… I mean.” He clarified.

“I can’t sit around and keep doing nothing.”

“They are really hesitant about letting people back into certain jobs without having time to process the snap or the blip or whatever. You know, PTSD and emotional trauma and undoing all that paperwork that says you’re dead, making sure people who came back are the people they say they are…”

“Well not everyone has to wait.” Maria looked up to the ceiling referencing Fury who just took off among the mess.

“Some people got grandfathered in.” Rhodey joked and this made Maria and Rhodey both laugh a little.

There was a knock at the door, Rhodey told them to come in, the true Everett Ross entered the room.

Maria tried not to groan as she saw Ross. She wasn’t a fan, even though he changed his tune awhile back she just thought he was quite pompous and irritating. And she really hated his ex-wife, but she didn’t punish people for their associations, or prior associations.

“Agent Hill, you’ve spent some time in Eastern Europe before, right?”

Maria made a face, she couldn’t confirm or deny that.

“Even if I had, I couldn’t tell you.” Maria said with a shrug.

“The two men in this room have the highest security clearances in the world.” Ross pointed out smugly.

“Then I guess I don’t need to answer.” Maria replied swiftly.

Rhodey couldn’t help but smirk at Maria’s reply, it was the Raava in him made him smirk at this woman sassing the smug Agent Ross.

“Director Allegra de Fontaine would like you to consider coming on with the CIA to help us with something.” Ross asked, ignoring her snarky retort. He was pretty used to snarky women to be honest.

“She does? They let her run an agency, huh?” Maria asked skeptically and then she looked at Ross and then she looked at Rhodey. She had had a hard time believing the CIA Director wanted her to do anything.

“They let you in the building?” Ross snarked back at Maria, he was aware that Maria was still dead on paper anyway.

“Only if I was accompanied by a child soldier.” Maria looked at Rhodey.

“They are really strict on protocol especially in these early days.” Rhodey mumbled.

“State sponsored terrorism is a problem that has been exacerbated by many on going problems in the world. Some of these people running these rings have super or extraordinary skills and connections to people who have such skills. This seems like something you could help us with at this trying time. If you don’t have anything else going on, I am sure you inundated with offers of employment.” Ross said trying not to sound smug but he just had a natural smugness to his tone.

“I am surprisingly not overwhelmed with job offers, it's kind of hard to believe this isn't a joke.” Maria was still skeptical.

“I am quite serious.” Ross responded quickly.

“Why are you asking me now? I've been around.” Maria looked at Ross and then at Rhodey again, she had been around trying to get hired for awhile. What happened now that made it so important that she come back to work? It started to seem suspicious to her, but Ritson did just get into office and Rhodey just took this job so there was a reason.

“Last week an MI6 contact reached out to us about a Russian ring, I can’t say anymore until you’re hired and working, but you fit the description of ‘unnoticeable white woman who can speak Russian and has a spy and military background.” Ross explained. Maria and Rhodey glared at Ross.

“Sorry, is that phrasing offensive?” Ross asked.

“Nope, that sounds like me.” Maria mumbled and she looked at Rhodey and Rhodey shrugged—it did sound like her.

“How come these rings are never like in Bermuda? You don’t have any of those, right?” Maria asked. Russia was so cold but it wasn't colder than space.

“Funny.” Ross sighed shaking his head.

“Just thought I’d check before I jumped at any opportunity offered to me.” Maria mumbled again.

“You’re one of the best spies in the world, you should be working for a spy agency.” Ross pointed out, it was clearly a waste for Maria to sit at home when they so desperately needed skilled people back in the field.

“How about the NSA?” Maria jokingly negotiated.

“Two minutes ago you told me you would do anything.” Rhodey pointed out.

Well that was before she knew Ross was involved. She didn’t dare say that. Really though, did she have much of a choice? Nick was gone, nobody else was offering her anything, despite the belief that she had many offers to work. It was almost impossible to get a job, everyone was looking lots of talented people that had returned and were fighting their way back in, and she needed a job. Bad. She had to start doing something before her brain turned to mush.

Maria looked at Rhodey and then at Ross. She was desperate to go back to work. She was living with her mother, she was heartbroken over the loss of her friends, devastated she wasn’t there to help them, ready to go back and fight and keep this world safe, at least make it safer than it was now.

“Here’s the thing, Agent Hill, in order to come work for the CIA as someone who ‘vanished’ or ‘blipped’ you have to pass a psychological evaluation.” Ross explained.

“She seems fine.” Rhodey shrugged it off.

“Are you going to tell me the answers?” She asked Rhodey hopefully.

“I think it’s more about demeanor.” Rhodey interrupted.

“Gotcha.” Maria nodded.

“It might be invasive.” Ross mumbled.

“Almost every personal detail about my life was shared on the internet in a massive file upload with the fall of SHIELD, so I think I’ll be okay…” Maria made a face at least people had long forgotten about that stuff now, it was still out there, but lots of it was encrypted.

“Right.” Ross nodded.

“I probably don't have the best background for a spy anymore…” Maria pointed out.

“Are you trying to make us reconsider the offer?” Rhodey asked, he was laughing at Maria.

“I just want to be transparent.” Maria mumbled.

“People have very short memories now.” Ross said, with a quick nod.

“It’s time to get those boots on the ground, yeah?” Ross asked like they were chums. Maria looked down at her shoes, she did wear boots today.

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tasmanianstripes · 4 months

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You know what's my second biggest gripe with the latest "fanon is bad, anything that's not canon-compliant is flawed" trend, right behind the fact that it's just rebranded cringe culture?

It just completely shits all over hobbyist and beginner writers. Good characterisation in writing is a skill. A skill that people can be bad at. God knows, it always takes me a while to get a canon character right, I admit I am not the greatest at it or media literacy or reading comprehension - though I try I'm sometimes not the greatest and I still have things to learn. And I hate that we basically went from "hobbyists don't need to improve their skills if they don't want to" to shaming people who aren't good at certain skills.

I hate that fandom as a whole went from "people can enjoy things and do whatever they want as long as if doesn't hurt anybody" right back to shaming and policing people for not having fun the "right" way.

"He would not fucking say that", sorry for being blunt but who gives a shit? Why should you care if somebody rewrites a character for an AU? Why does it bother you if somebody has a version of a character that's nothing like their canon self? How does that affect you in any way?

And it's fine if you don't like fanon, if you prefer canon, we all have different interests and likes and that's fine - but don't pretend like you're better for it.

Block tags, unfollow people, block them if you must. Learn how to control your online experience instead of coming into somebody's inbox, DMs or commenting on their art/fanfics and making your preferences their problem.

#thylacines can talk #and 'why dont you just make an oc?' is not a valid rebuttal either #1) unless that oc is going to replace the character in the story you're either going to have to rewrite their story which can suck the fun #our of it or create an entire new setting and different ocs for them which is extremely time consuming #2) not everybody is into replacing a canon character with an oc #3) maybe they just don't want to?

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itbe-jess · 5 months

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I wrote a fanfic where I rewrite all the Rayman scenes from Commander Beameagle, and added an expanded lore to it. Anyways, here’s the first chapter:

#fanfic #story #rewrite #Ramon: Our Only Hero

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lonelysucker7 · 3 months

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Found this in my drafts

Quick reference idea for near future (11/12/23)

“Im not good for you.”

“Tell me why?”

“…step back for a second. Just do it.”

You didn’t question him, immediately taking a step back from him. Kaine stood there with an expression sort of darkening for a second, before he jerked his hands quickly forward unsheathing spikes from his wrists. Your eyes widened slightly and your body froze. He didn’t meet your eye, just glared at the spikes.

Carefully he beckoned you back with a finger, and you listened, getting closer to him. Then you stood in front of him, bravely meeting your eye up at his 6’4 stature.

Kaine stared down at you, his breathing steadying a bit.

“Do these scare you?” He questioned quietly. He brought a stinger a bit up and dragged it slowly on the bare skin of your arm, careful and gentle. It’s smooth yet sharp edge sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn’t tell if it excited you or scared you. But you had to think rationally about this. You had to take a moment to think. Glancing at them did give you some shivers down your spine. You had to be honest about that.

“Yes.”

Kaine’s steady breathing became slightly heavier, his eyebrows knitted almost closer together. You weren’t sure if there were right answers here and the idea almost made you scared, more than his spikes. You heard him open his mouth again, and spoke with a rather hesitant hardened tone

“Do I scare you?”

You thought of all those moments you were with him. You thought of the first time you met. You knew there was more to him than just his usual grumpy attitude. He made you feel safe. You never saw a reason to feel afraid of him. Not unless he showed you this side of him. You shook your head and answered truthfully.

“No.”

You felt a bit of relief when Kaine’s shoulders slightly slumped a bit hinting the tension was already lessening.

part from the beginning

#suckerrambles #I know I know #The chapter isn’t ready… I’m having severe doubts atm #So I’m gifting you all some bit of what may or may not come in the future for this #I was cleaning my drafts also and I forgot this existed lol #strangers on a train #For your sakes and mine let’s not put our hopes to high #Might use this as a rewrite in the future to fit the story #This obviously doesn’t sound like Kaine or maybe it does but this will not stay the same #Like I said it’s to fit the story and this is a fragment of my imagination to a scenario between Kaine and and reader #kaine parker

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reel-fear · 4 months

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people who still make Joey the ink demon despite canon steering far away from that being the case this is for you I am sending u kisses XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO <3

People who make Joey well-meaning, sympathetic, a lighter shade of morally grey than canon I am also sending u lots of love <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3!!

And people who generally steer wildly from the direction Bendy takes with its characters and has fun with it I hope to see more from all of ur aus and rewrites!!

#ramblez #batim #batdr #this is not me saying aus that don't do this r bad blah blah I just personally have a super soft spot for Joey being the ink demon #since I really like the idea storywise the symbolism of Joey becoming the ultimate monster of this story #joeys who also take a very sympathetic role who are more morally grey than canon also hold a special place in my heart #joeys who think what theyre doing is right not just for them but for their staff who genuinely care abt them who love them mwah #I just love to see very unique takes on these characters I kinda miss when it was only like chapter 2 so everyone had this wildly #different but very unique and fun takes on where we thought the story would head hell for a while we didn't know if Joey was evil or not #thats what spawned Encore it was originally just a collection of theories I thought would come true #esp since I dont think bendy is a particularly well written story its fun to see the fandom have such fun wild ideas on where to take #the concepts and idea presented in bendy that never really panned out into anything interesting or were discarded or retconned #yknow? I miss the days where the aus were wildly out of sync with the actual story when all we had was a few names a few tapes #and we all went wild making our versions of the story and characters and then got so attached to them we doubled down #when canon didnt deliver on em #umm oops this is long have a great new year folks! Get wild get weird with ur bendy aus and rewrites #lets have fun this year and take canon as optional bc lets face it Bendy isn't great but man is it fun and I care abt that way more than #the quality of the story tbh #it had great ideas and executed them uh badly! But idc bc I can stir those great ideas in my head all day and see others do the same <3 #anyways yeah thats it love ya guys have a great 2024 <3

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ertrunkenerwassergeist · 1 year

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For White Mage!Noctis au: what were Regis' thoughts on Noctis having no talent for black magic, or his dislike of combat. Especially in light of the entire chosen king prophecy.

Ohhhh

That's an interesting one!

When Noctis fails his first magic lesson (the one the parent traditionally gives their child at age 6), Regis tries very hard not to be disappointed. But he is. A bit. And he very much does not like that about himself. But he is also worried. Because he has never heard about a Lucis Caelum who has failed that lesson.

(Wrong. He had heard about them. But they are stories. Tell tales. Cautionary horror stories dug out for story time around a campfire. He does not think about them.)

The first time Noctis conjures something that could very generously be called a fire ball, Regis is very relieved. His son will no longer have to deal with whispers behind his back about his legitimacy. Because here's the thing: despite Noctis looking like a Lucis Caelum, people thought him to be a bastard, because he did not show a spark of magical talent until he was, like, 8 or something. But now, Noctis won't have difficulty with inheriting the throne the prophecy

(He will not be a cautionary tale)

But even then Regis worries. He loves his son with all his being. He does. Still, the lack of talent in black magic is very worrying. So Regis worries, and prays. And tries so very hard to stiffle talk about his son. He tries to put people at Noctis's side who will help him. Be his friends. Keep him alive to fulfil the prophecy

The not liking to fight thing is less of a problem. Plenty of Lucis Caelums did not like to fight, or weren't very good at it. It's not exactly well recieved, but it's easier to compensate for than a lack of magical talent. It, however, means more work for the Amicitia who is the Shield.

(Gladio doesn't exactly appreciate that.)

Regis would probably take Noctis out of his fighting lessons, if he didn't need them. Partly because of tradition, but mostly because of the prophecy.

Regis loves his son. Very much so. He normally would never make Noctis do something he did not like. But this isn't normal circumstances. So Noctis remains in his lessons and hates every minute of them.

#ask #raven-6-10 #ffxv #white mage!noctis au #dreams of our past #I really need to continue the rewrite of that one #my first foray into writing long stories #it's very obvious XD #hope that answers your question!#if not #I'll try to elaborate further #geist answers #regis lucis caelum #noctis lucis caelum

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torturedpoetemotions · 1 year

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#okay i amNOT emotionally stable enough for this #listening to dolly parton and crying because DEAN IS ALIVE #our boy escaped heaven he's ALIVE #he WALKS THE EARTH #and he said FUCK THE GRAND STORY #i will rewrite it from the beginning #i'm fine i'm good 😭😭😭😭😭#supernatural #the winchesters #dean winchester #happy birthday dean winchester #happy birthday dean

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modern-inheritance · 2 months

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Modern Inheritance: Escape, Part 1: Encounter

(A/N: I just want to get some of this out there. I'll be editing and cleaning the rest of the first big half over the rest of the weekend and will hopefully have it out soon. But for now, have this first true encounter between Eragon and Arya in Gil'ead.

A quick reminder, though. This is the first time I've delved into truely rewriting canon, fleshed out scenes from IC into MIC. We aren't quite there yet with this part, but know that it is happening in the rest of this whole Escape series, and I had difficulty with that. So it's not my best, but I'm trying. Cheers mates!)

“There is someone who is just dying to meet you, my young Dragon Rider.” Eragon stood, wary as the Shade unlocked his cell door. It had been hours since their first conversation, and Eragon could still feel the same twist of unease in his stomach. He had hoped the Shade would have given him more time, enough that the drugs would have been out of his system and he would have been long gone from there.

True to his word, the Shade was not alone when he entered. He pushed another prisoner inside before him, holding their hunched form by the back of their neck and the shackles secured around their wrists. With a cruel yank to the black braid at the base of their skull, the man shaped monster pulled them up.

Eragon sucked in a breath. Her. It was her. The woman from his dreams.

Her emerald eyes were filled with fire, hair wild and teeth pink with blood clenched in a snarl of pain. When she saw him she tensed, shoulders hunched in preparation for something, anything, as if about to strike out at him or the man that held her. The Shade saw this just as Eragon did, and with a growl he twisted the short chain connecting her shackles together. Blood began to ooze from the reddened flesh surrounding the metal’s edge. A pointed reminder for her to stay still, not to try whatever she came up with.

“This…” The Shade’s lips curled, his smile all malice and pointed teeth. “My dear Rider, is the source of all your problems and tribulations these last few months.” A white hand slid from where it held the woman’s braid to grip the front of her throat, tilt her chin up slightly. “Isn’t she a pretty thing? This little elf has been a guest of mine for some time now. Fighting to keep the location of you and your dragon a secret, despite my…best efforts.”

‘Elf?’ Eragon felt his stomach lurch, gaze shooting to hold with hers. Sweet Sera, her ears were pointed. The tilt of her eyes, sharp eyebrows, cheekbones, the second tip of hidden canines in her bared teeth, there was something other about her. The woman was still, eyes locked to him, jaw clenched. ‘Source? What is he….’

“You see, little elf? You’ve failed this mission.” The Shade was at her back now, what had to be uncomfortably close and whispering in her ear. She didn’t even twitch, kept her gaze steady with Eragon’s. She was trying to tell him something he was sure, but he couldn’t understand her silence.

“Show her your hand, Rider.”

The elf’s sharp brows lowered slightly, eyes suddenly hard. In a rush Eragon suddenly understood the look and felt a spark bolt between them that felt both familiar and alien. Not a mental thread, not words, just a vague understanding of her subtle movements.

Don’t comply.

He kept his shellshocked expression, ripped his gaze from her to the Shade. He did his best to look confused, drug muddled, almost dumbfounded. It wasn’t all that hard, considering.

The woman was suddenly on her knees, a dull crack in Eragon’s ears and harsh growl of pain from her as the Shade placed a hand on her shoulder, dug his thumb into the flesh beneath the dark grey tunic. Seized the base of her braid again when she doubled over and forced her to straighten, arch her neck back to keep looking at Eragon.

The young Rider surged forward. “Stop! Stop, please, she didn’t do any–” Alarm flared in the dark green eyes, she tried to shake her head but was rewarded by the tip of a boot against the small of her back, digging in while he forced her to remain upright. “Stop! Please!”

“She has done plenty.” The words were deadly cold. “Show her your hand, boy.”

Eragon held his hands out, tried his best to apologize through his eyes to the elf before him. The gedwëy ignasia glinted dully in the low light from the cell window. She stared at his palm, and when she looked up again there was only fire.

For some reason, it chilled him. There was something hard there, a conviction and purpose that wasn’t there before despite the pain.

“There’s a good lad.” The Shade’s smile had triumph in it as he leaned in, again getting close to the kneeling woman. “Do you see now, little elf? The totality of your failure?” The fire brightened. The dark being merely laughed, the sound of bone on bone and underlain with what Eragon swore were screams. “We still have time, you and I, and there is much left to discuss.” He ended in a low growl and took her by the neck again, yanked her to her feet. Her right leg buckled, but he did not give her the slack to fall. “Say goodbye, little elf.”

She didn’t. Only stared hard at the youth in the cell, eyes steely and bright, before being led out.

In the silence that followed the crash of the door being closed and locked, Eragon slid to the floor, mind whirling. He had finally found her. She was here, alive, and she was an elf. He had to free himself, had to free her.

But the Shade. How could he get past a Shade? He’d need help, and the elf was injured. Could she even walk? He was sure the snap he had heard was her leg, and her arms were covered in bruises and half healed cuts. Who knew what else was hidden under the prison greys, what injuries he couldn’t see. She was determined, there was no question about it, but could she fight, or even run, in that condition?

Again, his heart ached. Saphira. She could help. She’d bat the Shade away like he were no more than an annoying fly. He still couldn’t feel her, even after half a day of starving off the drugs.

Eragon put his head in his hands with a groan. A headache was building at the front of his skull, same as the one that would come when he spent too long in the fields without water. He seized fistfulls of hair over his forehead and tugged hard, trying to distract himself from the discomfort.

How much longer would it take for the drug to leave his blood? Hours? Days? His tongue felt thick and sticky, filling up his mouth. The more he tried to ignore it the more it demanded his attention, threatening to close his airway if he swallowed wrong.

The pitcher was agonizingly tempting, full to the brim and just waiting for him by the cot.

The headache surged again. Frustrated, Eragon yanked off one of the stupid canvas slip ons and whipped it at the pitcher. It connected with the handle and spun the pewter vessel, sloshing the tainted water onto the floor and rattling the stool before clattering back to level.

For some reason, his failure to knock the pitcher over made Eragon want to flip the cot over and scream in frustration. A lump rose in his throat.

Helpless. Pathetically, utterly helpless.

The spilled water began draining towards the small drain at the center of the room. The movement drew his gaze, and finally landed on the splattering of red where the elf woman had been.

Blood. There was more than he had initially thought.

Heat, sharp and burning, rose in his chest. That Shade. He was hurting her. Just for protecting Eragon and Saphira, if his word was to be trusted at all.

Eragon grit his teeth. He was not going to let it continue. He had to escape, there was no question about it. He would escape. He would escape and he would rescue the elf and he would get back to Saphira. To Saphira, and Brom, and Murtagh, and they would be fine. They would all be fine.

But for now.

Eragon sat up and drew his knees to his chest. He forced his eyes to stay locked to the drying blood, away from the pitcher.

For now, all he could do was wait.

Durza healed her leg.

Arya had long since stopped questioning why he healed what he healed. Why he sometimes chose smaller wounds rather than the larger ones, why he sometimes gave her a few hours of respite even when the previous session had been relatively lenient, why he had stopped asking her about everything else and instead started asking her who she would serve.

To be honest, she half thought he healed her legs whenever he broke them because he just hated dragging her around rather than making her walk. He damn near strutted like an overconfident peacock when he pushed her in front of him, showing off a prize rather than dragging her around like a broken toy he no longer had use for.

This time, though. This time, Arya nearly let the edges of her lips curl up in a hard won grin when he shoved her forward.

This time, healing her leg was stupid. Showing her the Dragon Rider was stupid. Was he truly so dim that he thought it would break her will to see the Rider captured? There was no dragon here, that would be impossible to hide.

So there was hope. She would only fight harder now, tooth and nail and every ounce of her remaining strength.

Well. She would fight as hard as she could. The last…week? Month? Time had no meaning, no rhyme or reason to exist here. The last span had been…bad. He used the magic more often, set her body thrashing as every nerve increased in sensitivity and pulsed with feedback loops of pure pain.

It felt as though he were throwing everything at her again, testing her new limits after so long with him, trying to find any crack, any opening. He had started simply beating her again, completely at random, striding into her cell when she was unconscious and ripping her from the blessed darkness. Wearing down what rest she got. Was using the brands once more, the whips, the shackles, cycling through all the methods he had used.

He was acting…desperate. Something had changed, even before the Rider arrived.

He stuck to the magic this time. Mostly. He ripped open the wounds across her back, set everything ablaze with fresh pain before he began that damn spell. Lifted her half coherent, limp form by the throat after the first few rounds and pinned her to the wall. Forced her back to full consciousness, yanked her head up when her eyes rolled back in excruciating pain as the remnants of the magic coursed through her nerves and the weeping wounds across her body.

“Our remaining time is short, little elf.” His words hissed with displeasure, disappointment. “You have three days. Three days to come to your pitiful senses, and join me. I will not give you the chance while we travel to Urû’baen. You should know, Galbatorix does not suffer disappointment lightly, nor is he as…forgiving…as I am, when it comes to resistance.”

He let her down, slowly, settled her feet on the floor to weigh on broken limbs. Eased his grip, let her breathe ragged pulls of air and blood from scream-torn vocal cords. “Should you join me, convince the young Rider to do the same, then I shall be the balm you so desperately crave.” His lips curled, a mix of displeasure and bloodlust. “If you choose to submit yourself to Galbatorix, then know this.” He pressed forward, pushed his forehead against hers, gripped her jaw tight when she tried to turn away. The hissed whisper was a deadly promise. “Your pain, will never end. I am not some mindless servant to his will. I will keep hurting you, no matter his orders, no matter what he does, no matter how useful you are to him. You have a choice to make, little elf. Be sure it is the right one.”

He dropped her then. Stood over her and healed the tears in her vocal cords, the bones she had broken in her agonized seizing. Started over again when she looked up at him with vehement hatred in her eyes, mute as always.

Time. Time had no meaning here. Not with magic like that, with pain like that.

Time wasn’t a problem before. But now it was.

That boy. The Rider, the one she and everyone else had been searching for, he was right there. Arya’s eyes wouldn’t focus when she was pulled back through the hall, of course he made the guards do it, made them drag her half dead body instead of doing it himself. She saw his cell door, though, the dark eyes, intense, bright, the sun, peering out.

The cell floor was cool when the guards dropped her to the smoothed concrete. It pressed against her cheek, soothed some of the residual burning along her arms and in her face. Escape hadn’t exactly been on her mind before. Survival, keeping her mouth shut, keeping her mind locked, that was all Arya really cared about till now.

But time was not on their side. And there was a real, solid, living reason just down the hall, probably on his way to Galbatorix in three days right along with her. She couldn’t keep track of how long the days were, how much longer they had.

So escape it would be. The sooner the better, and there was never any time quite like the present.

She tried to get her arms under her body, push up off the blood stained ground. No. That didn’t work. Work, damn it! It’s time to fight, it’s time to

time. time to. time t

Everything fell black.

Time to rest.

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not-poignant · 9 months

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11 & 15 :)

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

(Note: This one has several unpopular opinions re: authors rewriting fics in particular, so please just...do not keep reading if you've ever rewritten a story you've released on AO3 or rewritten a serial or something, because like, slakdfjas how I feel about what I do has nothing to do with how other people do their stuff, lol).

Hmm.

Okay, yes, I do have a darling graveyard. In total, since I started writing as a kid, I've shelved about 5-6 completed novels. Maybe more. I didn't do it while actively writing them, I finished them, really believed in them, and one day reread them and realised they would stay on my hard-drive. That's fine. I don't really grieve them. Some I feel nothing for. In fact not having many feelings about the story was one of the reasons I shelved it.

I am not, otherwise, a very brutal 'kill your darlings' person. I'm a big believer in restorative methods and problem solving. For anyone who is familiar with Clifton Strengths, Restorative is in my top 10. I would rather fix or mend something, than shelve it or give up on it, and that part of my personality is a perfect match with writing an ongoing serial.

Here's the thing, I write most of my serials in an ongoing way with no plan. If I abandon the serial, I abandon my readers who are invested in the serial. That's a very different process to writing a novel that no one else except maybe an editor or beta is seeing.

I have to be - imho - from an integrity perspective, accountable to the process. And the process demands that I not pull a serial halfway through and then replace it with something new or not replace it at all. Firstly, there will be readers who always prefer the first version, and that shafts them. And secondly, it is almost always possible to mend a story, or write yourself out of a cul de sac. I enjoy the problem solving, I enjoy thinking on my feet, and the moments of being blocked because I broke something in the story are vastly outweighed by the times I unblocked and let the river flow again.

This is also why when I edit Game Theory, I'll always leave the original on AO3. It's also why I haven't deleted fanfic I'm actually pretty ashamed of and couldn't reread again. Like I have het Glee fanfiction on my not_poignant account and I never want to read it again. I'm not deleting it. I'm not going to shelve it. People gave it kudos, they bookmarked it, and I don't know those people and I know they can read something better, but once it's up, I am accountable to that visibility. I know what it feels like to go back and read that one special fic that for some reason you just really love, only to find out it's been deleted. And yes, we can always download stories, but I can also just choose not to be a dickhead to my readers in that fashion, so I won't.

Putting the rest under a cut because well there's more but also I might be very Unpopular Opinion about this and I feel pretty strongly about it.

(There are of course valid reasons people delete their stories, like, 'this username is connected to my legal name and I'll get fired if these stories are found' (though they can always be orphaned / made anonymous), but 'I hate this story' to me is just... /thinks/ I don't really want to let my mental illness win or be more important than the folks who might really love that one story and find something important in it. That's just.... how I think about it - if I can make sure another reader never feels that kneejerk broken-hearted feeling of having a favourite fic deleted, even just a dumb little Glee fic that's terrible, then like, yeah I won't make them feel that way just because I feel something like shame or disappointment in something. Because I have the power to also not think about those stories and then it doesn't affect me lmao).

I always have very mixed feelings when authors remove or completely rewrite a fanfic for example on AO3 - it is obviously completely their right, I feel really sad on behalf of every reader who will forever miss that original version. And as a reader, I've had this happen to me. An author has removed or rewritten a story, and I just loved the original more. I've never loved a rewritten version of a fic more than the original version. Not once. Not ever. Some of us preferred the more raw and ugly version, that was less like a generic novel and felt less like 'I've learned how to publish books now so I'm going to polish this up even though that's not why almost any of my readers are here.' And I'm painfully conscious of that re: Game Theory lol.

I guess I have really strong opinions about this. I don't know how to explain it. I feel like once I put something in public, I have pledged a certain amount of loyalty to a story, and a certain amount of respect and dignity to the reader. My loyalty to the story is that I will make it the best it can be in my capacity at the time. My respect and dignity re: the reader is that I will respect their love of the thing, even at the expense of indulging the intrusive thoughts of a mental illness, even if I don't understand how anyone could love the thing.

Shelving a serial isn't really something I want to do, and that's the closest I think I come to 'killing your darlings.' These days, therefore, I'm just a lot more discerning about what long-term projects I commit to before I commit to them. Because once I'm in, I'm all in. I'd rather quit writing entirely than leave a big serial unfinished, delete it, and start something else instead. Like, how bad am I at writing if I can't mend what I broke?

(Again, this isn't how I feel about other people's writing, it's just very important to my process that I be accountable to the story and the characters once I get started. I suspect other authors instead are more accountable to the quality of the writing and in giving their readers the most 'perfect' version of a story ever, or maybe they're just more accountable to that niggling 'I could have done that better' feeling. It manifests in many different ways! My method works best for me, but it is very much tied in with my personal sense of ethics and values that I impose on myself and try and live by.)

As to grieving... There's one novel I really regret shelving the most, but that's because I shelved it for reasons partially outside of my control - it needs an Australian Aboriginal sensitivity reader who is comfortable reading m/m romance with explicit sex. After months and months of searching, I found someone, gave them an upfront $150 USD deposit (about 6 years ago now), with the rest to come later, and they disappeared with my money and never spoke to me again. Ever since then, I have looked occasionally for a sensitivity reader in that area, but I've kind of suspected it's too niche of a thing to need, and I also can't lose that much money again. I've never spent that much on a single marketing budget for Perth Shifters, for example.

That's a standalone Fae Tales novel set in the southern hemisphere, with an entirely new cast, called Tradewinds and I'd really love for y'all to read it, but I sadly don't see it ever happening.

That one I'm really sad about. And I guess I could rewrite it to have zero Aboriginal Australian representation even though it's set in Australia, but like... :/ Y'know? Not ideal. But maybe that's the only way this story can exist, or maybe it just shouldn't exist in the first place. So it's shelved. A very few select people have read it, and everyone who's read it has enjoyed it, but none of those people have been Aboriginal Australian, and you know, I don't want to make some kind of horrendously awful fuck-up so we just... quietly leave that one in its folder and forget it exists most of the time.

15. Do you write in the margins of your books? Dog-ear your pages? Read in the bath? Why or why not? Do you judge people who do these things? Can we still be friends?

Mmm, I only write in the margins of some books, and only if they're mine.

I dog-ear my pages, I don't care how expensive or special edition the book is. If it's mine, I can do what I want with it. I see no point in being precious about physical objects, when what matters are the words inside, and not whether the page has a crease in it.

I don't read in the bath because I don't have baths. But also because I want to empty my head in the bath, so I just want to not think about anything at all.

I don't judge people who do any of these things to their own property. I get mad if they do it to my property (basic respect bruh), and I do judge the people who judge me for what I do with my own property. They're in the same category as grammar pedants, imho.

From the Weird Writer Asks meme!

#asks and answers #memey goodness #pia on writing #and you know i'm realistic that some people might hate that #i don't rewrite or improve a story once i know that i can #maybe they think that's not being accountable to my readers #we all have our own processes #and maybe it's silly and ridiculous to have so much earnestness tied up in this job #but how do people think that i manage to finish a 1.5 million word series #without things like this in the structure of my mind?#because if i just listened to my weasel-brained mental illnesses #i would have deleted my whole account years ago #thinking: 'but... even if i think they're wrong - i think some readers would be sad about this'#has sometimes been the ONLY reason i kept the stories up #and came back and kept writing again after i got through the depression episode #administrator gwyn wants this in the queue

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