#I need Legend to light things on fire for reasons I do no understand

[needfantasticstories]

Read here below:

Summary:

Legend is not happy with the Yiga who captured him.

Notes:

Trigger Warnings: Canon-typical violence Spiders Cursing/foul language

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Furious

They had teleported. Even as the Yiga blademasters wrestled Legend’s hands behind him, the veteran found muddy ground replaced with solid, reliable stone underfoot. Supplanting the damp forest was a musty cavern full of crates and vender’s stalls. 

“Astor needs the vials! Hurry up with him!” yelled a reedy voice outside the circle of giant red soldiers crushing him. 

With the benefit of solid ground, Legend planted his feet and wrenched his arm forward enough to break loose and shove a hand into his bag. Before they could stop him, the veteran’s fingers closed on a well-worn, familiar handle. 

Legend ignited the brilliant red gem. 

The swarm of Yiga reeled back as he swung the flaming rod. He aimed fiery orbs that rocketed into the nearest one’s mask. The Yiga had reached for their blades too late; the reek of singed hair and burnt flesh remained in the wake of their retreat. 

They gave him room to breathe, room to think, to look. 

“ HYRULE !” Legend shouted, and the word echoed in the cave amid shouts and grunts as they lunged for him again. But he fired volley after volley, pressing them forward and carefully scanning the room. Tapestries with the inverted Sheikah eye in red and black glared down at him, but he found no sign of Hyrule nor the pale white demon here. But he did find a hoard of bananas: in boxes, on market-like stalls, and in barrels. 

Puffs of smoke around the room revealed a wave of six scrawny footsoldiers along the walls and atop crates, aiming scythes and a pair of drawn bows in his direction. Their clothes were muddy and torn, some bleeding from wounds his brothers had given them. 

The archers fired. 

Legend rolled and dodged the shots, rising again with a shout and a fresh wave of fire from his weapon. “WHERE DID YOU TAKE HIM?” Legend roared, panting, sweeping his fire rod across the Yiga soldiers like a scythe. Alone within the enemy’s stronghold, he found no reason to hold back. He could handle the heat, his rings already pulsing with protective magic. Dark scorch marks painted the walls, and high-pitched screams reverberated as orbs hit their targets.

Waves of heat radiated over the back of Legend’s hands as he aimed and released, but it was gentle compared to the scorching gales he invoked on them. 

“Stop, you idiot!” one footsoldier shouted as she fumbled to lose an arrow. She missed him entirely when, with a squeal, she dove to avoid a fireball. She jumped back up, crouched low, and panted, “Yield… and I’ll… make sure… that you…will see him!” Her voice was mockingly kind, a honey laced with poison.  

Legend responded without words, and she danced away to dodge a fiery end, disappearing to the smell of burnt hair. He sent a matching attack to the other archer, who dropped his bow as he shrieked and vanished. 

“You’re going to die here if you keep this up!” yelled a deep-voiced  blademaster as he hurled forward to strike Legend, but the veteran adventurer leapt high, feet far above the blade’s path, and sent an attack of his own toward the man, forcing him away. They did not know about his rings that would keep him safe from the heat. They didn’t know he’d already sworn to burn this whole place down—for Hyrule, for Wild, for his own satisfaction—it would be wiped from the map.

They were starting to keep out of range, but they’d also blocked the door. Hyrule could be in there. 

Another pair of bulky soldiers slammed their palms to the ground, and Legend felt the earth rumble. From the impact points sped circles of burning red light, the air above whistling up from the heat. Magic , tapping into the powers of Din, he guessed. They rushed at him. Legend leapt aside, but the glowing heat followed. Heat scorched his legs, despite his numerous protective enchantments, as he was forced to run, his boots moving him beyond the soldiers that lurched to catch him. 

Behind him, the red glows finally burst, pebbles pelting his back. Legend turned only to see another pair of the red spells giving chase, their creators laughing. 

Legend grinned at the Blademasters and made a rude gesture, letting the lights come closer. At the last moment, he flipped backward and let the lights pass under him. They burrowed under a pillar of stacked banana crates. 

The crates exploded. 

The Yiga shrieked and wailed in horror.  

This could keep them busy.

Legend dodged between shrieking Yiga soldiers as they rushed to put out the fire. Aided by the pegasus boots, he sent blast after blast of fire into the other crates and barrels, and scorched the bunches lying on the tables.

Like a nest of ants, the Yiga scrambled in vain to put out the flames as the whole supply caught fire. More importantly, they left a clear path to the doorway. Scorched bananas landed in the frame, and without thinking Legend scooped them into his bag. He sent back a few more blasts, just in case, as he left the room only to collapse against the stone hallway. 

He could not afford to rest long, not until he found Rule. Soldiers could appear at any moment. But sweat dripped from his face, his hands shook, and the places where his magic usually pooled ached with an emptiness as sharp as hunger. 

Legend hadn’t eaten in hours. He reached for a potion when his hand brushed something warm. He grabbed it too only to find one blackened banana. Shrugging, he ate it quickly, the flesh surprisingly soft and sweet. He’d eaten bananas before, but not like this one. Far more strength than he was expecting fueled him, even replenishing a small portion of his magic. He retreated into the shadows cast by the door, hoping no one saw him beyond the blaze within.

He sipped half of his last magic potion as he scrounged in his pack again. He needed to hide, and fast. And just a moment to rest. Ravio’s bracelet? No paintings here, and he didn’t have a direction. Ice rod? No... His cape! He’d discovered it within a tomb underneath the graveyard just outside Hyrule Castle, long ago. He avoided using it often since it drained his magic quickly; it was difficult enough keeping reserves up before meeting Hyrule, but the fire rod drained him already, despite the thrill of the fight.

 Legend pulled out the heavy garment, dark red with gold trim. He threw it on and hurried into a far corner of the hall, magic fueling the cape. His body faded out of sight. And just in time. Shouts erupted as red lights revealed new soldiers in the hall. Legend pressed into the corner as a half dozen soldiers hurried past into the blazing room.  

“Where is he?” the newcomers demanded. Each voice fought to be heard over the others. “Put that out!”—“The whole place is burning!”---“Sooga is going to kill us!” “He ran that way!”--“Where’s the other one?”---“The Demon Lord said –-”

They don’t know where Rule is? His successor had been limp and unconscious when he last saw him, a sight the veteran wished he could forget. His successor wasn’t brawny or one to pick fights, but he was scrappy, determined,and powerful in magic. And they couldn’t find him! He escaped! For all his confidence in the kid, he could have cried in relief. Sure, the kid could take down a lynel, and could make anything into a weapon. But they both needed to get out of here fast, and the kid might not know he had an ally in here. But how to tell him?

“We need the mage!” one shrieked loudly as he streaked past Legend down the echoing hall. 

Mage? Could that be the pale demon?

“Go! Find them! Now!” a deeper voice roared from inside, drowning out the rest of the yelling.  

Soldiers ran from the room. Legend followed, then passed by on his boots, looking for the soldier who mentioned the mage. 

The cape and pegasus boots were draining what little magic he’d recovered with worrying speed, but he could hold on a bit longer. He had to. Catching up to the soldier who’d run for the mage, he followed close. It was as good a clue as any. He memorized the switchbacking tunnels as he chased after the soldier. How big is this place? They ran for what Legend could only assume was several miles, though it was probably just exhaustion dulling his senses. They passed room after room in quick succession: storerooms, living quarters, mess halls, a smith’s forge.

At last, the soldier ran through a set of double doors. 

Yiga fighters scrambled everywhere. With all the yelling and commotion inside, Rule had to be inside! Legend hurried to follow. 

But the commotion within was not Hyrule. Instead, he entered a foreboding armory: racks of blades and bows covered the left half; three giant, spiked balls too big for a hinox to carry provided the centerpieces dead ahead, a painted, glowing red eye on the largest glared at him, as if alive; ot the right, towers of ghostly white masks filled the wall. Fresh fighters scrambled to arm themselves and receive orders.

Legend stuck to the wall and carefully tracked the soldier he’d been following. The figure dashed past the other Yiga, hurrying behind the dais with the spiked spheres.

Legend followed quickly, catching bits of banter: colorful complaints over and over that neither the Heroes called Legend nor Hyrule could be found.

How do they know us? How does Ghirahim know about Hyrule’s curse? Why take me too?

With a muffled grunt of pain, Legend hid behind the giant metal ball just as his magic ran out. His chest ached, and his blood felt cold and slow, but he forced his eyes to take in the narrow, secluded area in the back of the armory. He was visible now, but the soldier leading him to the mage was already halfway through a hidden doorway. 

Legend ducked low, and followed. 

The Veteran caught the door before it closed. He shoved it open just enough to slip inside, noting how the torch nearby slid down as he did. 

A massive table stood in the center, surrounded by stiff-back but elegantly carved chairs. A symbol had been scratched out and recarved on each – an eye poorly covering the triforce. 

A war room. Schematics and charts and maps covered the wall, from strange looking helmets decorated with lightning bolts to designs for flying platforms (manned by what he guessed were bokos), to poorly drawn maps of Wild’s Hyrule.

Including a map of the caves. 

Another door on the far wall stood ajar. “Your Eminence?” a voice called from inside. 

Legend snatched the map and ducked under the table. It wasn’t the safest place, but it would have to do. 

A grumble preceded the soldier’s return from the mysterious room beyond. He passed Legend’s hiding place, muttering, “where in the shadow realms is he? Sooga is going to kill us!” as he returned to the armory. 

The mage wasn’t in the room? Perfect. Legend rolled out and forged ahead, eating another banana as he went. 

Licking his fingers, he entered a large study and immediately gagged. It reeked of foul body odor and wet dog hair and rotten fruit. He covered his nose and mouth, and looked around. Shelves overburdened with books lined the walls, the tomes crammed mercilessly and coated in dust, veiled in cobwebs. One book lay open with obvious care on the central table, perched atop an elegantly carved stand and flanked by tall glass oil lamps, glowing orange.

His stomach growled. Two bananas wasn’t nearly enough.

Fumbling in his bag, the veteran snatched the last banana and glared at it as he peeled. Stupid Yiga and their inexcusably delicious fruit. It refreshed him more than he cared to admit. Unfortunately, it still did little for his dwindling reserves of magic. Between the firerod, boots, and cape, he barely had enough magic left to hide for a few seconds, and his quick glance at the map revealed a sprawling dungeon complex. 

Moving carefully around the crowded table, Legend looked around for something useful. It was quiet enough he could hear the rustle of his clothes, completely immune to the chaos and shouting two rooms away. A silencing spell? The room pulsed with enchantments, spells, and curses, their auras tangling and mixing to the point that he could not identify most of them. Each had a sort of flavor or sense to them, but one dominated the rest: a sense of endless hunger mixed with anger, glowing magenta and tasting like wine and ashes. It was hard to pin down, but it made his throat burn.   

On a shelf beside a crowded desk stood a battalion of bottled potions in rows. Legend hurried to read the labels. He blew dust off of the corks and fluted shoulders, and then smiled. Healing, stamina, magic, and electricity resistance. Legend uncorked a green one and smelled it. Dancing Din! A Magic potion!  

He dumped the whole stock into his pouch save the one he’d smelled, which he guzzled, the liquid tickling his dry throat. It tasted like spring sunshine in a bottle. It soothed and filled and spread from throat to chest to arms and legs to toes and fingers. His boots hummed with power, as did the firerod sheathed on his hip. Legend smiled and sighed at the tingle of magic racing down his veins.  

This was going to work. He had enough potions to search the caves for days. Weeks! No one would see him, and nothing would stop him. 

Legend grabbed the whole stock of healing potions and, after removing a bit of firewood he had been storing for Wild, he had plenty of room for all of them. Legend dumped the whole supply in his pouch. With a satisfied grin, he replaced his cape and disappeared once more. 

Legend pushed back the bookstand and set the pilfered cave map on the table. The layout was strange, with zigging, zagging, and curving halls, but he could see the layout. He’d need to search every room, and leave a trail to make sure Rulie could find him as he went. 

Course now set, Legend glanced again at the massive book.  

Browned pages, cracked with age, showed a heavily stylized ink drawing, angular and ugly: a tripod lashing dominated the page: three logs tied securely into a triangular structure. A Hylian in a pale tunic dangled by the wrists under it. Dark red ink trailed down the arms and chest and dripped into a wide stone basin. Red ink flowed down a channel within the basin into a large clay pot. A beastly, tusked shadow sat inside it.

Shit shit shit shit!

Legend slammed the book closed and shoved it in his bag. He had to get Rulie out of here. Now . Who the hell was this mage? 

Cape and fire rod at the ready, Legend left two bombs on the floor atop the firewood, and ran back the way he came. He barely closed the door to the war room when the explosion shook the cave.

Soldiers in the armory shouted in response. He hurried along the wall to avoid detection. 

He paused beside the door as a group of footsolders ran into the armory. 

“They blew it up!” one shouted, his voice high-pitched with incredulity.

“Where the hell are they!”

“Damned heroes!”

“I’m gonna gut every last one of them when he’s finished with them!” The others yelled in agreement, surveying the damage from the side while others ran to put out the flames. 

And Legend knew that, given a chance, they would. He stopped feeding magic to the cape.

The Yiga soldiers startled when they saw him, then crouched and raised their weapons.

“Where is the Hero of Hyrule?” Legend demanded.

“We’ve got one!” a soldier shouted into the hall behind Legend. The Veteran grinned. Good. Let them come. 

“Surrender, Hylian filth!” one laughed. “You’re outmatched! There’s no escape!”

“WHERE? IS? HE?” Legend demanded again, voice echoing down the hall as he adjusted the grip on his fire rod.  

The five soldiers moved fast, but not one reached him. 

Legend left the blazing room behind, and no longer bothered with the cape. Hyrule can find me better this way. I’ll mark a trail for him. 

As if in a trance, he slashed and burned hallway traps, footsoldiers, blademasters, stockpiles, and weapons racks. Scorches, ash, and embers trailed in his wake. Passing an underwater canal and a hoard of bokoblins hiding there, he cleared every room he found, sweating and panting, but he downed one of the stolen potions and forged on. Yiga popped away almost as soon as they appeared.

He blazed through a sort of court, empty but for a few sleepers rudely awakened. He let them vanish. 

There was a crease in the wall behind them, marking a hidden passage. He used his power bracelets, their hum familiar and soothing, and he shoved the wall open.

Snow and sand drifted in on the wind. It was strangely dark. 

“HYRULE!” He screamed, and immediately regretted it.

He took it in rapidly: Sand. Snow. Webs. Skultulas.  

The spiders stopped their slow creeping and turned to face him. A multitude of eyes locked onto the hero. They began chittering and clacking. 

Fuck! He wasn’t expecting that.  

He sent out a barrage of fireballs, then slammed the door on them and leaned against it, just to be sure it stayed put. He breathed hard, his body begging for rest and his legs trembling, his mind reeling at the new enemy. 

This was not on the map.

Notes:

Writers block was HORRIBLE, so thank you HotCheetoHatred for your patience, and Estelian for your amazing art that broke me out of it. I have been DYING to get this chapter out ever since I wrote it. It feels great to finally set it free! I hope you enjoyed the update! There's so much more to come!

(@la-sera I updated the fic! I hope it entertains!)

[ranahan]

I just read the Republic Commando: Hard Contact and Republic Commando: Triple Zero novels by Karen Traviss. Republic Commando is Legends now, but here are a few points that struck me about arguments I’ve seen go back and forth here on tumblr. Spoilers for the books!

Several mentions of entire batches of brothers “disappearing” for minor variances & clones being more afraid of the kaminoans than their training sergeants. Kal Skirata drunkenly breaking into tears over the poor boys. Very clear that in Traviss’s books, clones were being decommissioned.

Several mentions of clones dying in live fire exercises on Kamino before being deployed & the training sergeants standing by and doing nothing.

There’s a blurb of a retired commando, chronological age 23, biological age 60. Again, in Traviss’s books, the artificial ageing doesn’t stop when the clones reach adulthood. The main characters are also described as visibly ageing between the two books.

Pretty chilling description of the kind of brainwashing that you believe because you don’t have any reason not to when your entire life so far has lined up with it. I would completely believe these boys could execute Order 66 without the chips & all I could do would be to empathise with them.

Troopers telling their concerned jedi to not worry their pretty little head about what happens to dead troopers. Later a reinforcing mention of no bodybags needed in the GAR.

Vau nearly killing a trooper in training & making the troopers beat each other into a pulp in training.

So again, Republic Commando are Legends now but if anyone wonders where the fandom got the idea that these things happen, here’s your answer. They aren’t fandom inventions.

Other notes and personal opinions:

I mostly enjoyed Hard Contact. There were some bits near the end that fell a little flat, but overall an enjoyable military action/military science fiction novel.

Triple Zero on the other hand, not so much. The pregnancy storyline was just icky. Both in how Etain herself makes it her entire raison d’être, how she makes it the reason for why Darman now has a future, and the lack of consent on Darman’s part. She intentionally gets pregnant without ever discussing anything with him (they’ve been together for two whole weeks at this point), whether he wants kids at all, wants them with her, wants them in the middle of a war, or sees having children in the same light as she does. She’s had the most superficial of introductions to Mandalorian culture and has no idea whether or to what degree the clones or Darman as an individual share those notions—given that they probably have an understandably complicated relationship with Mandalorian culture and especially the notions of children, parents, and legacy. For all we know at this point in the series she could have completely misconstrued the whole thing. But there she goes, and decides that this is how she will fix everything and give Darman a future: a genetic legacy to outlive him.

The force-accelerated pregnancy reads like a bad fan fiction and the whole “go undercover to hide the pregnancy” reads like a Victorian novel.

Etain feels like an odd choice for a point of view character in a military science fiction story. She’s aggressively the-girl-next-door, pointedly unremarkable and ordinary. I guess the point is that readers could have a regular person’s point of view, with which to contrast the commando mindset, and to whom things can be naturally explained without infodumping. But it goes overboard and makes her seem incompetent and immature, so you start wondering what the hell is she even doing in the story or on a battlefield or what does anyone see in her.

There are sexist attitudes straight from the planet Earth. It’s in men and females, how Etain and other female characters are seen through their sex first and other characteristics second, and how they are always “other” in comparison to men. But it’s not just the women, it’s young men—the clones—too where I get this vibe. It’s very bioessentialist. There seems to be this underlying thread of pairing up and reproducing being the most valuable thing a person can do with their life. Which again, seems like an odd choice for a thematic storyline in a military science fiction novel. Like, this is not what it said on the tin.

Some of the tactical/counterterrorism side in Triple Zero feels inauthentic to me as well. There’s too much being bad boys for shock value and too little professional soldiering for my tastes anyway. But I don’t kick in doors professionally so what do I know.

No sense of numbers for galactic economy. Exhibit A: Qiilura.

Lastly, fandom: can we get more Corr? This is an EOD trooper who gets both of his hands blown off early in the war, gets stuck in a logistics centre duty while waiting for better prosthetics, still determined to get back into action to fight alongside his brothers, gets accidentally adopted by some commandos, and makes a career change from disabling fiddly explosives to kicking in doors. A round of appreciation for Corr!

[zuko-always-lies]

Legend of Korra and the incredibly long season finales

One flaw which really strikes me about TLoK is that the season finales were all far too long. This is a point which is easier to understand if we talk about ATLA first. ATLA had two 20 and one 21 episode season finales:

Book 1: Water. The season finale was two ("The Siege of the North Part 1 and 2") or at most three (if we count "The Waterbending Master") episodes long, for 10% or at most 15% of the season's runtime. I really don't think we should we should count "The Waterbending Master," though. It builds toward the series finale, but it's mostly it's own thing with its own main plot.

Book 2: Earth. The season finale was two episodes ("The Guru" and "The Crossroads of Destiny"), for a total of 10% of the season's runtime. You could argue that "Lake Laogai" and "The Earth King" are also parts of the finale, but they're really not. The main antagonist of the finale, Azula, doesn't even show up until the end of "The Earth King."

Book 3: Fire. The season (and series) finale was "Sozin's Comet," with a total of four episodes. That amounts to 19% of the season's runtime, but this is a series finale. That being said, I do personally feel like "Sozin's Comet" is already too long and not organically connected and that some of the stuff which happens there should have happened earlier in the season.

Now, let us turn to LoK.

Book 1: Air. This is 12 episodes long, and I would argue that the season finale amounted to three episodes: "Turning the Tides," "Skeletons in the Closet," and "Endgame." That would mean the season finale was 25% of the season. Every if we cutoff "Turning the Tides" because the protagonists are more reactive than proactive in it, the finale would still amount to 17% of the season.

Book 2: Spirits: This is 14 episodes long. It's actually very hard to figure out what constitutes the finale in this. Definitely "Harmonic Convergence," "Darkness Falls," and "Light in the Dark" are included. That would make for 21% of the season. However, you could also argue for "Night of a Thousand Stars" (29%), "A New Spiritual Age," (36%), or even "The Guide" (43%), although the last one is pretty dubious. What is clear is that in the second half of this season, events take on a pace which is at once both relentless and endless.

Book 3: Change. Things are a little clearer here in this 13 episode season. The season finale amounts to three episodes: "The Ultimatum," "Enter the Void," and "The Venom of the Red Lotus." That makes for 23% of the season.

Book 4: Balance. Another 13 episode season, with a three part finale: "Kuvira's Gambit," "Day of the Colossus," and "The Last Stand," for 23% again.

ATLA was 61 episodes long. LoK was 52 episodes long. If we go with the lowest possible number, ATLA had 8 season finale episodes, which made up 13% of the series. Similarly, with the lowest possible number, LoK had 11 season finale episodes, for 21% of the series.

If we instead go with the highest reasonable number, ATLA had 9 finale episodes for 15%, while TLoK had 14, for 27%.

And if we go with the highest possible number, reasonable or not, ATLA had 11 finale episodes, for 18%, while TLoK had 15, for 29%. It's possible to argue that nearly a third of TLoK was season finale episodes!

I think one thing is clear: TLoK spent far too much time on season finales. Did we really need three straight episodes of a mecha battle between Kuvira and our protagonists? Or three straight ones of Korra fighting Unalaq and Vaatu in the spirit world?

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

Would you mind explaining why you ship Azaang? It seems interesting, but I can't put my finger on it. Since you dominate the tag, maybe you have some insights about the ship?

Short answer: It's a superior, more intimate, more suggestive, and more spiritually attuned version of Zukaang and a complete antithesis to Kataang. It mostly takes place in my Book 4: Air/Dark Avatar Ozai AU.

...

Long answer: I believe it all started when I read Aaron Ehasz's tweet about Azula having her own redemption arc with Zuko as her Iroh basically. I then read a fanfic called Azula's Redemption where she's redeemed through Aang by showing her how to open and master her own chakras. It ends with Azulaang being endgame.

It's commonly believed that Azulaang is another "opposites attract" thing but mostly with their personalities rather than elements, even though Aang can waterbend and that art was one of the easiest for him to learn. Azula also had a rather strong fixation on the earth kingdom and was able to bend the Dai Li to her will with ease.

It is often shipped along with Zutara because it gives Aang a love interest. Some fans also see the possibility of Azula reforming due to Aang. I've been studying both characters and their dynamics with other people. I came to the conclusion that Azulaang has as much narrative significance as Zutara.

Azula getting better is the ultimate goal in Azulaang but I wanted to complicate things a bit where Aang is mostly changed by Azula's influence as well.

I invented a little mechanic where Aang and Azula form a spirit bond. This bond unites them as fate, allowing them to understand each other better than anyone else and one will know when the other is lying. This bond is formed when Aang finishes opening his own chakras first and it gets even stronger once Azula completes her chakra session next. Why it didn't form in Ba Sing Se is likely because Aang's fire and light chakras weren't fully opened. Do you know how Katara was an earthly tether blocking Aang's last chakra? I picture Azula being something of an opposite entity where her presence keeps all chakras open.

I mostly place Azulaang within the Dark Avatar Ozai AU of mine. In case you're wondering about that, it's an AU where ATLA has a Book 4: Air but the story arcs from the back half of season 2 of Legends of Korra are put in Aang's saga instead. Some parts of the first 3 seasons are altered though, like when Aang meets Roku for the first time, he vaguely describes Vaatu but doesn't mention his name. In the Library, the gaang learn the names Raava and Vaatu but no more than that, at the beginning of season 3, Avatar Wan's two-part episodes debut while Aang is still in a coma, at the end of season 3, Ozai fights the lion turtle instead of Aang at a different location and his plans for the earth kingdom were a trick to keep the gaang distracted. Ozai wins by slaying the beast and consuming its soul.

The dark avatar doesn't just obtain all bending arts in the opposite direction of Aang's cycle but consumes/controls the very sources of the bending arts, the entire power system of the avatarverse, and the souls of all original benders after causing them to go extinct.

Again, I always imagine Azulaang taking place in that timeline because the reason why their spirit bond forms in the first place is because Ozai doesn't need to fuse with Vaatu, Ozai IS Vaatu. Vaatu is also the true orchestrator of the 100-year war through Sozin and is reborn as a human through Iroh's mother, Ilah. Another reason is that Azula will have every reason in the world to want to join Team Avatar, bond or no bond.

Aang is the one who loses his past lives but in return, after he's purified, Vaatu's natural abilities, instincts, and status are taken from him and combined with all of Raava's while still permanently fused with Aang.

There have been times when Azulaang was seen through a biblical lens with Aang as an angelic archetype and Azula as a demonic archetype.

I hope this makes sense and I didn't just ramble on.

[sakurarisen]

εїз

Send εїз for an unimplemented HC!

So this one's gonna be kind of long, apologies ahead of time- XD

Despite her rough life, Sera has kind of always known there's more to her than even she can understand - And this is a feeling that only grows once she's finally able to settle down with Zack into a calmer, more peaceful life, and learns how to cope and face the things that've happened to her. The more she finds ways to cope and finally have the life she's craved and deserved, the more it feels like she's standing on a frozen lake; there's so much more under the surface, so much more to her, and yet she can't access any of it past the occasional tap on the ice and a temporary, slight bubbling up of the cold water underneath. So, so much more... Something, but she's never understood what, no matter how much she tries to find the answers to 'what makes Seraphina Fair tick?' - A question that comes up especially often in her FF7 canon, when she realizes the materia she picked up on her way to Gongaga is a summon materia for Shiva, eventually gaining the use of her aid and power, albeit at the cost of her own energy and needing serious bedrest after.

This question of what makes her 'tick' and what lies under that frozen over lake is now the same in every verse: Because Sera holds the power of one of many elemental phoenixes - In this case, the Snow Phoenix.

There's lore I wrote up a very, VERY long time ago (and need to rewrite and fine tune, now XD) for another OC of mine whose bloodline is descended from a phoenix - Essentially, the phoenix lived in in an era where gods walked the planet freely and many gained a following, with the phoenix especially enjoying a temple and a fair number of worshipers. But as humans do, war eventually broke out, and the phoenix himself was targeted for his feathers under the false claim they would give the power of rebirth and the inability to fall in battle, causing his temples to be overrun in the people's bid to get their hands on them.

The phoenix stood tall and protected his temple and the priests and priestesses within it, eventually taking human form to fight beside them, and at the end of the war, began a bloodline with his most trusted priestess that eventually, many hundreds, probably thousands of years later, to my other OC - Who, for multiple reasons, thought she was the last of the phoenixes despite being only a halfbreed.

Expanded lore I've been working on, however, adds more phoenixes; the original was a solely fire-based creature, while the others that existed among the world were of other elements - Ice, lighting, water... The original 'myth' had been passed down among the people of a pretty remote village, and the myth/legend had inevitably changed over time, like playing a game of telephone, until all mentions of other phoenixes and gods ceased to exist within it. Nobody knows there's others - But even so, Sera herself inherited the defensive, healing powers of the Snow Phoenix, while her older brother Thoma inherited some of the fire phoenix's power - Two phoenixes who were originally siblings, now echoed in Sera and her brother, linked closely together just the same as the originals.

However, despite Sera embodying the Snow Phoenix in just about every way - defensive and protective in nature, rose from her 'ashes' to keep moving forward (multiple times over her life, actually, this girl SHOULD have died several times over and managed to survive), an affinity for ice magic/abilities, ranged fighting, a healer, hiding in the form of a snow leopard/human/snow fox, etc., that's all for another post and not this one which is already longer than I intended it to be - she isn't strong enough to use it, at least not in full. The circumstances of her life/lives have made it so that while she HAS the power within her, she's too physically weak to access it, and using it in full would more than likely kill her - Though she can access incredibly tiny fractions of it when she desperately needs it, or with the aid of Zack and Thoma, her soulmate and the single blood relative/member of her birth family she has left she's super close to.

This lore also fits into just about everything I have running for her; reincarnation and rebirth is a thing across all my blogs (every verse and AU is another lifetime for the muse, with them all being connected in the end by being the same person reborn into a new life with the same soul, changed only by the timeframe and circumstances they're born into, otherwise the exact same person), and the snow phoenix follows her through all of them. In GI, it's an old power caught up in the rebirth cycle, in FF7 it was a familiar of Shiva she aided into gaining human form - Nothing like an ancient in any form, but a being connected to the goddess and the elements (who still needs materia even with her innate abilities), and so on.

This... This isn't implemented YET because I need to figure out how to rewrite the phoenix myth and organically insert it into Sera's stuff, but this is... This is just Sera. This is my girl, and it's taken me over a decade to FINALLY figure out this is what she's had lingering within her, even though I've known there's something there for a looooong time. I want to make SURE it makes sense and doesn't step on toes when I add it in, or buck anything in canon lores for any of the verses, and I really want it to work out - And since Sera is inherently fandomless/multifandom at her core, it should be easy enough to do that?

But also I've been rambling for FOREVER here so I'll cut this one here XD I'm just?? So excited to finally know what's going on with Sera in more detail, and I have SO MUCH MORE I'm working on on top of this! <3

[covecampfire]

So I watched the new ATLA

{SPOILERS AHEAD}

Preface: I just finished binging it with my Mom. It's been AGES since I've watched The Legend of Kora, so I've forgotten pretty much everything about it. I haven't done much research past the lore already present in the show. Cause of everything above, this is gonna be a preeeetty basic overview, but I needed to get this out or I'd INTERNALLY COMBUST.

The Good:

The MUSIC oh my GOD. Same composer as last time if I remember right, and it's WONDERFUL. It mimics the same motifs present in the original show, but it has its' own special twists - either being played in a slightly different note, or contining a whole new additional composition. [For more neat stuff about the original shows' score, check out this video by Sideways:

Generally, the costumes are great, and pull a lot of inspiration or directly copy many different Asian cultures, ranging from Japanese to Indian.

The CGI is AMAZING most of the time. All of the elements look and behave realistically, and look like they do ACTUAL damage. The fire actually burns, and the severity depends on the length of exposure to the flame. The water dampens clothes. The earth looks IMPENETRABLE. The air causes such a physical recoil to whoever encounters it that it LOOKS painful. Not to mention the water healing scene with Katara was done beautifully - as if the wound melted away with the water.

Most of the casting was great physicality-wise: Jett, Aang, Katara, Sokka, Iroh, and especially Ozai and Suki.

Momo was a cute little bean, aw.

The fight scenes were engaging due to the choreography, use of quick camera angles, and pace of time.

Jetts' fight scene had me geeking out because I've always LOVED his weapons, and he did the SPINNY THING WITH THEM!

The slight humor in it was usually enjoyable.

The scenery was PHENOMENAL. Drop dead GORGEOUS.

I loved Monk Gyatso. That's all. To play Pai Sho with him and a cup of tea would be a day well spent.

HEI BAI. OH MY GOD.

The Ehh:

At least for Katara and Sokkas' clothing during the initial "Aang waking up in village" bit, it looked too clean. No visible stitching, wear and tear, or anything. It meant to be handmade, and yet it looks more like a costume. Later on, it improves.

Another nitpick on the wardrobe: I hate Sokkas' shoulder plates. They look like they're made out of painted styrofoam.

Generally, it felt like the acting fell flat a bit. The tone didn't land right most of the time, and the only way I can put it is it seemed "disingenuous". (There's definitely a better way to word that lol.)

Sokkas' humor. :( Barely there. I understand that this show is toneally different from the original, but :(.

Katara isn't as "snippy" or loud as she was in the original - and that's one of the reasons why I loved her so much in the original. Another :(.

Irohs' moments of wisdom early on felt very forced. As if he was putting on a "wise voice", and moving his eyebrows to sell the point.

Irohs' humor also felt forced, when it came to tea among other things.

General Zhao wasn't intimidating at all. I feel the casting was poor for it, as he came off as more of a slimy, sleezy politician (which, yeah he is), instead of a mostly strong, intimidating, warmongering Admiral. Was generally uninterested in his character.

Many of the characters felt OOC. (Ex: Sokka and Katara in the Secret Tunnels, with Katara being more "science-believing" in the glowing stones, while Sokka fully believed in the "light of love".)

In exchanging the story for the runtime, it often felt confusing and odd with the pacing, especially for people like me who have watched the original show. Mushing up multiple episodes (some not even from the first season!) into one episode felt rather messy and disjointed.

ZUKO ISN'T ANGRY. Like ???. Literally most of his arc??? Where'd it go??

There's probably more I could say on this, but it's getting late and I'm tired. Overall, I'd say it's:

Zukos' scar looks more like a birthmark than anything? In the show, it was shown to literally change the way his eyelid functions, and it is puckered on his skin. Plus, the whole "oh they got some healing salve so you can see fine lol" felt like a weird way to solve that issue that people have been talking about for years? Idk.

Appa looks odd. I want to say it's the animation of the fur? Like, it catches the light in an odd way, and it moves weird. I know fur is super hard to animate, but- still. Odd.

~Odd, but Entertaining~

Would I watch it again? Yeah, probably. The visual effects really tied it in for me, since I'm a sucker for it. But most of the performances and storytelling causes it to fall flat. Overall, I'd say it's a 7/10. I'm still glad I watched it - I enjoyed it. Happy to hear what y'all thought too! :)

Edit:

I FORGOT THIS I WAS LAUGHING MY ASS OFF AT THIS - BEST PART IN THE ENTIRE MOVIE! 😭

[ironfoot-mothafocka]

#Dwecember - Eight Nights

So I was going to write dwarf-inspired chanukah fic, but then life happened. Still, here's some unapologetically Jewish holiday fic featuring dwarves. Menorah lighting, Stiffbeard customs, fried foods, remembrance and inter-cultural relations.

--

The Eight Nights

“I don’t understand the time of year, though—” gasped Gaelan as he huffed down the Ereborian street after Vadlik. Though Gaelan stood head and shoulders above the tallest dwarves, it was still a tight squeeze. He’d lived in Dale for ten years now, and never before had he been inside the mountain when the Festival of the Clans was happening. From Vadlik’s excited commentary in the month leading up to the eight nights, he knew that it was a big occasion for not only the Stiffbeards, but for all of the houses of the dwarves. Vadlik slowed, and proffered a leather drinking vessel to Gaelan. The Man took it warily and sniffed it, almost spluttering at the pungent stench of neat spirit. He swigged it anyway; it was colder than he had anticipated, with a blizzard howling down from the nothern hills. The stone under his feet was chilly enough to sap away any warmth his thick socks provided, and Vadlik’s breath puffed out before him in a cloud of wispy vapour. “I don’t know why,” said Vadlik after considering this for a moment. He shrugged. “Something to do? It is cold at this time of year, and we need the light of candles and lamps. The light helps us to see, binds us together. Makes us remember.” Vadlik tapped the side of his skull with a thick, leather-covered finger. At least he had the foresight to bring gloves and a hat with ear-flaps. “Remember is very important to all khazad. Darkness better for remember. The fire good, see many thing in fire when darkness is around.”

Even though the Stiffbeard’s Westron was still quite broken, Gaelan knew exactly what point he was making. There was, he supposed, a reason why even in the religious rites of Men, candles were lit in Temples and a sea of light transformed the prayers of petitioners into an otherworldly experience. Telling stories of old legends in the darkness of a winter night was enhanced by crackling red flames, which leapt and twisted together to create the forms of creatures and figures of ancient times. Remembrance was aided by candlelight, the same way that the races of Middle-Earth had been aided by the rising of the first sun. It was linked in ways that Gaelan couldn’t fully put to words.

They walked together in silence, Gaelan’s huge frame turning heads. Not only was he a Man, of course, but he was also close to seven foot tall. Some dwarves goggled up at him with their jaws hanging open, but Vadlik simply strode in front of him with a proud, disdainful stare, jutting out his jaw as if daring any of them to comment. Gaelan didn’t mind though; he knew his dwarven friend took it more personally (as he suspected he would do if their roles were reversed), but he knew for some more sheltered dwarves it was rare to see someone this tall so far inside Erebor. Still, he greeted everyone with a smile and a ‘Shamukh!’ where appropriate, Vadlik’s liquor burning his oesophagus as he tipped more of it down his throat.

Finally, they stopped in the middle of a square in the Eastern district of Erebor. Here was the confluence of the Red Mountain diaspora among the Longbeards, an enclave where East met West. Gaelan had spent time here, and he smiled down as a few of the dwarves around him waved and shouted his name jovially. Vadlik hugged some other Stiffbeards who were huddled around a brazier at one corner of the square, warming their hands with their hair bedecked in multi-coloured ribbons and the dwarrowdams sporting incredible hats. Something sweet-scented was burning, an incense that Gaelan had last smelled when he had travelled through Kikuama. He breathed in the robust, smoky air, feeling the hair in his nose tingle. A tug at his sleeve brought his gaze down. A small dwarf child was reaching up towards him, shaking something clutched in their fist. He bent down and opened his palm: a small, sticky pastry fell into it. “S’ganit!” Exclaimed Vadlik, who had drunk half the bottle of fire-water and was now weaving. “Very good to eat!” Gaelan popped it in his mouth. It was incredibly oily but coated in a thick layer of sugary syrup that cut through its density. It was delicious. He noticed then that an array of fried foods were being hawked around the edges of the square from various stalls: potato-cakes floated on top of vats of oil; other vendors sold salted, cheese-filled doughs from hand-carts; and a queue of dwarves lined up outside a nearby house, which had the shutters of its kitchen window thrown wide open and a portly Stiffbeard dwarrowdam tipping out rows of s’ganit by the tray full into the hands of customers. “Is this another custom?” Gaelan asked, as he chased Vadlik to the cheese-pastry seller. “Yes,” Vadlik said, waving a handful of coin towards the dwarf, “we have custom to light many oil lanterns, and therefore we eat everything fried in oil!” It was a loose connection to Gaelan, but he didn’t mind. Oil-fried foods was one of his favourite food groups.

After Vadlik had bought Gaelan and himself a dozen pastries and fried potato hashes, which he doused with a dollop of soured cream, they crouched down on the porch of a closed shop-front to eat. “So — what will happen tonight, then?” Gaelan asked, his eyes straying to the huge, unlit candelabra that had been erected in the centre of the square. It was eight-pronged, like a trident, built elaborately from brass. One of the candle-holders was positioned higher than the others at the left-most side, while the others were still lower. It stood around twice his height. “One of the elders of Stiffbeards will light this tonight,” Vadlik said, gesturing towards the candelabra. “They will make blessing for all of us, for our Clan, for our homeland.” “And each of the eight nights,” Gaelan went on, “is to commemorate a different house of the dwarves?” “The eighth night — final night — is for all of us. The seven coming together as one,” Vadlik corrected. “Tonight, night five, is a special night for Stiffbeards. Stiffbeard night tonight. Many songs, many dances. You see costume dances — dwarves will dress as animals and dance: many will dress as one mammoth!” “A mammoth! You mean, one for the head, and one for the arse?” Gaelan laughed, imagining him and Vadlik taking on the role of mammoth-dancing. He’d much prefer to be a head than a backside, though. “No — many dwarf! Sometimes six will be one mammoth on… ah—” Vadlik mimed something being attached to the bottom of his legs. “Stilts? They dance as a mammoth… on stilts?” “Yes,” said Vadlik, raising his eyebrow at him, “no short mammoth. Tall mammoth.” He supposed he was right about that. As more and more dwarves crowded into the square, Vadlik recounted tales of his youth as a drummer for a band of mammoth-dancers, and how competitive difference dancers got; not just those dressed as mammoths, but those who performed as a whole host of beasts and creatures for the fifth-night carnival. Snow leopards, birds, dragons, and even nuruk, ancestral spirits, all came alive in intricate costumes — stitched with a mosaic of spiralling, glittering beadwork, and even outfitted with moving eyes and mouths.

Before that, however, the lights had to be kindled. A hush fell over the square as an elderly Stiffbeard mounted a set of steps next to the candelabra, assisted by a carven cane. Their face was so deeply lined and brown that they looked as though they had been hewn from an ancient oak tree. Their plaited hair stuck out on either side of a huge, tiered fur hat, and their shoulders bowed under the weight of yak-pelt furs. Someone passed them a torch from below the steps, and they raised it high above their head. A few, commanding words of khuzdul were uttered, though their dialect and accent was so thick that Gaelan could barely understand with his limited knowledge of the dwarven tongue. Vadlik, however, intoned the set responses next to him solemnly along with the rumble of the crowd. The Stiffbeard elder bent forwards slightly, and touched the tip of the torch to the first oil well, the largest of the eight. It went up in a spurt of yellow flame. Then, slowly, they lit five more. Even at a distance, Gaelan felt the heat on his forehead, and shouted in a cheer as the whole square erupted in screaming and clapping. He grinned caught sight of Vadlik’s face, dark eyes reflecting the light in their depths. The beginning of a memory, perhaps. “Khag sameakh!” Vadlik said, gripping Gaelan’s forearm. “Khag sameakh, Vadlik,” Gaelan replied. Tonight he would remember the time they met, the words of khuzdul he had been taught that he still held dear, the many times he had sat at a cramped, food-laden dwarven table in a Stiffbeard’s house and been shown boundless hospitality. Tonight, his heart got just a little more dwarven.

[kornstreifs-storys]

AoR, Ch. 1, Page 15

Kiara and Kuro, sat by the fire in silence and listend as Dune told the story of what had happened while she had been dead. As she told them of the Seraphore they nodded knowingly, the legends had been true after all. But when she came to the part about her evolution, Kuro interrupted, Wait, so you mean to tell me that Eevees are now able to evolve into ALL types, it's just that the old methodes don't work anymore?

Dune nodded slowly, That's at least how I understand it. she replied. My Evolution is called Arideon and it's a Ground-Type and if other Eevees wanted to evolve into it, they would need to learn a move called Sand Armor. she explained. Kuro thought about it, I don't think I ever heard of a move like this, he remarked, is it new?

Dune shrugged, I don't know, guess so? Kuro sighed, Great, so there may be new evolution methods but they may rely on moves that we don't even know exist yet. But then he exhaled and said, Well, no matter. For now, let's hear the rest of your story. Dune nodded and continued her story where she'd left of.

When she finished, the Group was silent for a second. Then Kuro spoke, his voice trembling a bit, This almost sounds like, when I told Kiara about your dream of becoming an adventurer, it caused you to find your way back. He looked at Dune, fear in his eyes, Do you think that you might not have made it back if it weren't for that? Dune reciprocated his gaze. Yeah, that is likely, the Seraphore told me that you'd be my beacons to find my way back.

Thank Arceus I told this story then, he wispered. Now Kiara spoke as well, Wait, so this Sera...thing gave you a part of itself? Do you still have that? she asked. Dune thought about it, she hadn't really thought about it, but it was likely. She concentrated a bit and then, as if called, the ball of light she had recived from the Seraphore, materialized from her chest and hovered over the campfire.

Wow, Dune said, you were right. I still have it. Then the orb flickered and the Seraphores voice could be heard from it, Ah, I see you figured out what my gift can do, I didn't expect it this fast. Dunes ears flicked. Wait, you can talk to me through this?! she exclaimed. The Orb got a bit dimmer, and the Seraphore answerd, Only while you are upon my sacred grounds, as soon as you leave this palce I'll only be able to watch.

Kuro budded into the conversation. Ok, then what did you give Dune your energy for? he asked, If it wasn't to get her back, you must have had another reason. You Legends don't act selfless. He sounded almost angry. The orb repiled, I see you are a wary one, Champion of Enigma. But I did indeed have another reason. For you see ever since the second Cataclism I've been losing my connection to the Material.

Now Kiara, had to interrupt, Wait! What do you mean Champion of Enigma? she asked. The orb grew brightes as if surprised. You haven't told your companions about this? it asked Kuro. Kuro looked embarrassed, I just didn't think about it yet, I had other worries. The orb blinked, Yes, the death of your mate must have been quite the shock. Kuro blushed, She, is not my mate! he said, and quieter he added, Yet.

Dune had heard him anyway and now blushed too. Let's get back on topic, she exclaimed, we were talking about your reason for giving me this orb. Yes, the orb said, I shall explain. As I said, I've lost my connection to the Material. In the past I could use my toombs as eyes into the world and observe what was happening. I could also use them to contact the other divine.

The orb paused, it's light becoming a bit redish, But as of ten years ago, this abillity faded and now it vanished completely. It seemed to look at Dune, So I hoped that you would take this piece of me with you to act as my eyes in the Material. I've lost all connection to the other gods and it's starting to worry me.

Dune looked unsure, what would the Seraphore be able to see if she allowed that. The Legend seemed to sence her worries, Of course, I'd only be able to look if you let me. I will not be invading your privacy. I just want to find out what happened to the other divine. Wierd, Enigma said the same thing when he asked me to become his champion, about the other divine I mean. Kuro metioned thoughtful.

The light of the orb almost went out, So he hasn't heard of the others as well. It said. Silence fell on the group, they all shivered at the thought of the gods just dissapearing.

Dune broke the silence frist, Ok, if that is all you want, I'll take you with me. I wanted to travel the world anyway to find other Eevees and help them evolve, as well as finding the rest of the evolution methodes. Kuro looked at her worried, I kinda knew you'd say something like that, but I still wish you didn't.

Dune met his gaze, I know you worry about me, she said softly, but I could never run away now. I could help so many Pokémon, I have to do this, or I would betray my own cildhood dreams. He looked down, I know, he replied, and you know that I will always stay at your side.

At this moment, a huge Gyarados flew down from the sky and landed next to the group. Torrent! Kiara exclaimed. You know this mon? Kuro yelled, already in attack position. I don't mean to bust this little party you have going here, the Gyarados said, but we should better get out of here, there is a big group of Pokémon on it's way here and while I don't have prove of that claim, I'm pretty sure they're hollows.

Kuro and Kiara looked at each other in shock. Oh no! They both wispered.

================================================

Start / previous / next Cover

Oh no indeed. What will out Protagonists do as a huge group of hollows seems to converge on their location.

Well stay tuned and find out.

Dunes Profile has been updated.

[shotorozu]

encountering a ‘pick me’ girl

character(s) : kirishima eijirou, todoroki shouto, bakugou katsuki (bnha)

warning : PICK ME GIRL, misogyny (?) pick me girl makes an off handed comment about your body but it’s not detailed at all

PART TWO — PART THREE

legend : [Y/N = your name] afab! reader, but they/them pronouns used, quirk not mentioned

headcanon type : fluff, angst if you squint

note(s) : i made 2 versions of this post so,, if you’re reading this— then i probably decided that i liked this one more than the other one i made,, anyways, i used real life examples 💀

»»————-　♡　————-««

kirishima eijirou

i’d imagine that eijirou would have an idea of what a pick me girl is— i mean, there were probably 2 of those girls in middle school

but has he experienced it first hand? nahh.

though, eijirou didn’t think he’d encounter one when he was already in a healthy and committed relationship!

eijirou is practically friends with everyone— and yeah, even the most unexpected. so, he’s bound to accidentally befriend a pick me girl

him, being the nicest one out of all of the characters in this list, will still be nice to said pick me girl, despite wanting to snob them to the core

because really— you can’t really fight fire with fire in some cases

but, he can be everything but lenient when the pick me girl starts insulting you for doing certain things, and for absurd reasons too

like,, how you laugh, and how you take care of yourself (for example— if you wear makeup, or how you style your hair)

which is odd! everything about you is everything but the things the pick me girl has stated so.. he cannot stand by.

SCENARIO

the girl giggles to herself after that snide comment leaves her lip gloss coated lips. eijirou shifts uncomfortably— honestly taken aback by the anything but subtle insult that was thrown at you

“like.. seriously! it’s honestly quite superficial if you look at it like that. who the hell would put that much effort infront of your boyfriend? i’d assume they’d see everything AND everything but.. i guess not.”

you blink. superficial? now that’s a new one. the girl infront of you has been babbling insults sugarcoated in boasts the entire time, and you’re just wondering if it’s about time you guys leave but—

“well that’s unfair,” your boyfriend laughs, “i put the same amount of effort as this cutie right here,” eijirou pokes at your cheek, earning a quick laugh from you— which he can only thank the heavens for that

“but that’s different. it actually looks put together when you’re doing it, eiji.” the certain glint in her smile makes you want to wipe it right off with a dirty mop, “it’s impossible to look put together with expensive clothes, but being built like a—”

the sound of the sliding of a chair is quicker than your actions, and it easily cuts her off.

“i’m sorry, but we gotta go, it’s totally not cool of you to say those things about Y/N!”

“what? but i mean.. it’s true, right? i’m looking out for them! they’re literally out here l—”

“bye!” eijirou waves her goodbye with your hand, dismissing the sour expression on her face— as he dashes off with you

you’d question how he’s just so nice to people like that, but when he turns around, you could see the distaste in his eyes

“so that’s what a pick me girl’s like,” shaking his head, his expression lights up with such a quick manner “i’ll never make friends that are like that again!”

safe to say, eijirou’s friend list has been a a person shorter ever since that incident

bakugou katsuki

oh, so that girl’s bold bold.

if she thinks she could get away with being a not so subtle pick me girl infront of bakugou katsuki, then she couldn’t be more wrong.

it’s absolutely revolting— i mean, he hasn’t displayed any romantic feelings towards ANYONE that isn’t you.

also, they’re quite gutsy if you ask me. so congrats for having guts??

i don’t think he’d be friends with a pick me girl. he’s very selective of who he’s befriending, so it’s probably your friend that’s the pick me girl in this case

he wouldn’t know what a pick me girl would be, but he’d probably know the description of one.

over some time, he’d grow some resistance to insults directed at him, but when someone insults his s/o

oh boy. that’s not good. remember when i said that katsuki was almost like your scary and intimidating dog

this is what i mean

knows he can’t make a scene, so his first option is to be dismissive asf— but if said pick me girl literally can’t get it, he won’t be afraid of shoving some explosions into her face

because his hands are rated e for everyone

SCENARIO

“so you wanna be picked or something, is that it?” he hates how you literally have the resistance of a rock— which is something he always liked, but in this case hated. if it weren’t for you— he would’ve blasted explosions into her sorry excuse of a face until it’s beyond recognition (that wouldn’t be hero like, is what you’ve said in the past, but he disagrees.)

but seriously? ugh. he just wants to leave this horrid place, and make some dinner with you in the comfort of his home. why are you even friends with her anyway? she’s not even trying to be slick at this point.

“p-picked? i’m not understanding, katsu.”

“it’s bakugou.”

“right,” her laughter is like nails on chalkboard, “i’m just watching out for Y/N, y’know? there’s no point in wearing all of that.. on their face.” and she’s obviously referring to your obviously very well done makeup

“it’ll make your skin terrible in the long run! and really— i couldn’t really understand on why someone would wear that much, when you could survive with i dunno.. lip gloss at most?”

you would’ve actually said something as a rebuttal, but your boyfriend is quicker, and a lot more direct than anyone else in the area.

“just say you can’t do makeup and fucking scram,” katsuki’s ice cold glare finally breaks out of the act he’s been trying to hold together for you

“their makeup is fucking bomb as hell, compared to your ridiculous spider lashes, lady. come back when you’ve watched james charles’ entire fucking channel.” he harshly states in similar bakugou fashion, despite the lack of screaming.

and if you squinted hard enough, you could see tears welling up in her eyes. but katsuki tugs your hand before anything else could be said

“let’s fucking go, you need better friends.”

he makes you cut ties with all of them, and he practically scolds your terrible choice of friends— but he goes quiet when you tell him that you’ve been friends with her since middle school

“good fucking riddance. next time, i’ll punch them as soon as they say something outta line, got that?” and next time (hopefully, there won’t be a next time) you’ll actually lash out— or maybe,, you’ll let him loose for once.

todoroki shouto

now shouto might be,, socially unaware sometimes. but he can tell whenever someone’s trying to insult his s/o

like,, right away.

now— you both run into this person after a pleasant date, and she eagerly presented herself as your friend

so, her attitude catches him off guard because who’d have anything rude to say about you and towards shouto’s face? especially when it’s about something normal.

like,, wasn’t she your friend?? why is she even like this?

his hostility is very well known, so they should be scared.

he gets detached from the conversation, and he’ll immediately go cold— and shouto would probably go as far as walking away with your hand in his

doesn’t matter if he properly says goodbye or not— if a girl’s being rude to his s/o, they obviously don’t deserve his usually polite attitude. nope, that’s a luxury.

oh— and what more when they’re seeking for his validation. newsflash! said pick me girl won’t be get any from him.

SCENARIO

shouto couldn’t stop the bitterness bleeding into his mouth, when the girl in front of him continued to babble and take up the valuable time he had left with his s/o

initially, she presented herself as your friend from middle school— but as of now? she seems to be more interested in him more than you, despite knowing you first.

she’d ask him a string of obvious questions with very obvious answers, like ‘is she treating you well?’ ‘is she acting correctly?’ and questions of the sort

“oh, sorry! i’d hate to cut this conversation short, but—” you finally decide that it was about time to leave, while shouto looks pretty,, deadpanned right now, you could tell that he was gradually starting to get irritated by your friend’s words.

“wait. thats.. kind of controlling, don’t you think? do you ever let shou make decisions?”

“uh.. controlling? since when??” you question at the accusation. this girl knows nothing about your relationship dynamic, and she’s already jumping the gun and making conclusions.

your gaze snaps back to shouto, who looks just as surprised as he could possibly be.

“yeah! it clearly looks like he still wants to talk” which is an obvious lie, shouto just wants it out of here “i wonder how you managed to snag such a guy like him,” she comments with a smile that looked anything above suspicion (yet, it makes your stomach churn)

you could see the way her hand gets gradually closer to him— and frankly, you’re not sure about what she was planning to do next, “you wouldn’t need to dress all expensive and fancy, if you’re with a girl with an already classy appear—”

“i think this conversation is over,” shouto grip is firm on the wrist that was attempting to grab his shoulder, shouto makes no attempt to even look at the girl infront of him “i don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not humorous. at all.”

“what?” she stammers, drawing her hand back “i-it’s obvious they don’t know how to take a joke! this is why there are barely any good w—”

shouto’s next actions knocks her speechless, his hand rests at the small of your back, before gently guiding you forward— “love, what movie are we watching later?” he says, making an effort to press a quick, yet intense kiss on your lips

“oh,” you breathe out, surprised by this action. “don’t be so tense, love.” shouto comments on how tense your shoulders have looked, ever since she started running her mouth, “now.. what movie do you want to watch tonight? comedy? thriller?”

“you pick,” you laugh at the quick shift of topic. and when you look behind you, you could see shame and defeat welling up on her face. shouto finally feels like he could smile again, the bitterness dissipating from his mouth

after shouto questions you if that was what a pick me girl was, he makes sure that you guys won’t ever encounter such thing again

“you.. don’t have more friends like that, right? if you do— we could always do another friend list cleansing.” this statement makes you laugh but shouto is anything but joking

but being reminded of his reaction to that ‘pick me’ girl does puts a smile on your face.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission

[luimagines]

Hey, could we get the boys kissing the reader please?

Masterlist

Absolutely!

If the reader gets to give the boys kisses, it's only fair that they get kisses in return!

Fair warning, these are more or less platonic.

Content under the cut!

Twilight

“Twilight I think I died.” You blurt out one day.

Twilight stops what he was doing and tilts his head on your direction. “Run that by me again?”

“This is all a dream isn’t it?” You gulp and pull your hair a bit to feel something. “Did I die? Am I dying? How do I know you’re real?”

Twilight pauses and puts his things down. He walks toward you and puts his hands on your shoulders. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“Before I met you, I got hurt...bad... And I had a dream.” You say.

Twilight then bends down and kisses you nose.

The action stuns you and you blink in an attempt to process the absurdity of it.

“Did that ever happen in your dream?” Twilight bites his lip to keep himself from smiling. This was supposed to be serious- you might have been having a crisis.

“No?” You answer with a small child like shake to your head.

“Then you’re not dreaming.” Twilight answers simply.

“Is that how that would work?” You reply.

“Do you want it to?”

“Yes.” You nod and walk with Twilight to help him out with his earlier chores. “I don’t like thinking of the alternative.”

“It’s you’re dreaming I’m sure our group is more than wiling to find ways to induce your awakening.”

“Like what?”

“Throw you off a cliff? Set you on fire? Get the cuccos nice and angry-”

“I’ll take your method over that thank you very much.”

Wind

“It can’t be that bad.” You roll your eyes and put your hand son your hips. “Why do you hate it so much?”

“It’s the principle of the thing.” Wind explained. “If I went back home and they found out I did this, I would never be able to live it down.”

“Would you do it for a Scooby Snack?” You ask instead with a teasing grin on your lips.

“I don’t know what that is.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“Please don’t make me.” Wind whines. “I’d do anything.”

“If it’s any consolation, it’s not my idea either.” You sigh and cross your arms instead. “But the faster we do it the faster we can get it over with. It’s not like we have to talk about it ever again.”

“No please-” Wind gets onto his knee, saying your name and crawling to you that way. “-You’re my last hope. Don’t let this be the end of it.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.”

Wind grabs your hands places a clumsy kiss on your fingers as he pleads. “Can’t it be anyone else? Please! Please, please please please please!”

“Oh my goodness! OK! I’ll go talk to Time and Twilight and see if we can get Legend to do it or something.”

“Yeeees.”

Hyrule

“My everything hurts.” You whined and rolled over, grasping your side in a vain attempt to relieve the pressure there. “Was I stabbed? I feel like I was stabbed.”

“You were, in fact, not stabbed.” Hyrule kneels by your side and lifts your hand to access the wounded area a bit better. “But you did land really harshly on the rock below us. So try to take it easy for a minute, ok? We’ll have you fixed up in no time.”

“Who is this we you speak of?” You sigh as the pain lessens and take a deep breath, trying to sit yourself up. “I just see you.”

“Yeah, Wild is on his way over, so it’s about to be we.” Hyrule snickers.

“I see... Thank you ‘Rulie.” You smile a bit and loosen up your muscles. “How did I even fall to begin with?”

“Bad bomb placement.”

“Ah.” You say, as if that answers your question. “Well that explains everything then.”

Hyrule looks up at you and sees your face. “You’ll be ok.”

“I mean I hope so.” You shrug and Hyrule leans in to place a small kiss on your forehead.

“Wha-”

“Magic enhancer. Good for one extra minute of healing time.”

“You’re a dork.”

“You love it.”

Warrior

“I hate this.” You groaned as you walked through the dungeon. “Why are we here again?”

“Because we have a mission to clear the darkness and this is a hotspot. We clear this area and then we can move on to the next until we’re all done.” Warrior shrugs, fully understanding the sentiment but not wanting to ruin his reputation.

“This suuuuucks.”

“I knoooow.” He snickers.

“You’re making fun of me but I know you feel the same way.” You tilt your head back and look at him by shifting your eyes.

“Yeah but you don’t see me complaining.”

You groan louder in response, purely out of spite at this point and shove him slightly by the shoulder.

“Is there anything I can do to make it better?” Warrior asked teasingly.

“I want a sick prize at the end.”

“I can wager in a kiss.”

“Not from you.”

“No?” Warrior laughs louder and spin on his heel, walking backwards as he talks to you just a little ways ahead from where you are. “Am I not worth enough?”

“I have only the highest of standards.” You deadpan. 

“I’ll have you know that my kisses are completely worth it.” Warrior twirls his hand upwards for fan fair.

“Doubt it.”

“I’ll prove it.”

“Doubt it.” You grin.

Warrior rolls his eyes but lets you catch up to him before leaning over suddenly and kissing on your hair line.

“Cheap shot.” You snort and push him away. “You’ll have to do harder than that. I bet the prize at the end is cooler anyway.”

“Tough crowd.”

Time

“Time, would you be a dear and help me out with one little thing?” You called out, fighting one of the knots that kept your bag to Epona’s side but Twilight was no where to be found so it’s not like he could help you.

Time looked up and saw you struggling with the bag and the rope that held it in place. An amused smile crossed his face and he got up to make his way over to you.

You huff and stomp your foot when it refuses to let go just in time as the man himself makes it to your side. “What seems to be the problem?”

 “I can’t get my bag out!” You whine. “Twilight does such ridiculous knots and I can’t figure it out.”

“Let me see.” Time rolls his eye and steps into your space, checking at the problem in front of him.

It was way more complicated than Time would think Twilight would purposefully do. It looked staged.

Luckily he knows his pup well and managed to get it untangled with seconds.

“How?” You frown and pout. “How did you do that? I thought I would have needed to get my knife or Legend to get rid of the spell.”

“Twilight doesn’t like spells or magic in general.” Time smirks and sees the opportunity in front of him.

You reach out your hand to take the bag with a sigh. “Yeah, yeah I know. Thank you, I was getting frustrated.”

Time grabs your hand with his free hand, bringing it up his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “A hero’s work is never done.”

“A-ah.” You blush with wide eyes. “Right.”

Wild

“I have no idea where to go from here.” Wild sighs and places his hands on his hip, keeping the wooden spoon angled away from his clothes.

“What’s up? Need help?” You stand up and walk toward him.

“The stew needs something. But I don’t know what.” Wild huffs and chews on his lips as he thinks.

“Salt?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” He picks up his slate and takes the rock out, chipping small pieces off before stirring to dissolve it.

He brings the wooden spoon to his lips to taste it but he doesn’t seem satisfied with the result. “It’s better but not enough.”

“Can I try?” You offer and move closer to the pot.

He sighs and gives you the spoon with a bit of the broth. It’s delicious as expected but he’s right. A bit lackluster.

You smack your lips together and move it around on your tongue and try to figure it out. “Maybe Goron spice? Not enough to feel obviously but anything spicy tends to heighten existing flavors.”

Wild thinks about it before going through with your suggestion. He stirs for a hot minute before his eyes light up at the taste.

He spin to you with enough force to startle you, but before you can move away he grab your face with his hands and brings you forward giving you a whopping kiss onto your forehead. “That’s just what it needed. Thank you!”

You wobble for a moment when he pushy you away but you smile regardless. “You’re welcome.”

Legend

“And here we have the best of the rest, Mr. Fancyprance Mcfickle Bottom.” Legend knelt to the ground after speaking and place a kiss on the back of your hand.

“I take it back. We’re doomed. We’re never going to be able to sneak into the gala.” You lament and take your hand out of his gasp.

“How dare you doubt my acting skills.”

“Can you at least try to take this seriously?” You stress. “This is a big moment for the kingdom, if one thing goes wrong tonight, we’re all going to pay the price.”

“It’s not like any one going to die if we don’t do well toni-”

“Did you not read the note?” Your stare widens. “I can’t believe you. There’s going to be an assassination attempt. It’s why we’re even going to begin with!”

Legend pauses as he considers your words before sobering up and standing taller. “Alright. From the top. This is what we have to do.”

“Thank you.”

Four

“Ok, I have no idea where you’re taking me, but it better be good because I’m a lot less graceful when I’m blindfolded.” Four said over his shoulder as you guided him through the underbrush.

“Just trust me.” You grin. “You’re going to love it.”

“I hope so.”

You giggle and continue to push him ahead. “Ok, wait here I’ll be right back. Don’t take it off just yet.”

“You are so lucky I trust you.”

“Good.” You dash off and grab a small parcel that was hidden in a hollow tree truck.

You run back to him and pull his hand in front of him, placing it gently on top of his palms. “There. Open your eyes and open the box.”

Four grips the wrapping and takes the blindfold off with one hand. “What is it?”

“A gift silly!”

“Ok, yeah, but what’s inside?”

“Open it and find out!”

He smiles and gently rips the paper that covering the little box, eyes widening as he recognizes the design within. “How did you get this?”

“I save up for it. It’s a thank you.” You bite you lip and take a small step back. You’re beginning to feel a little flustered by his reaction even if you think you have no reason to be.

Four drops the paper wrapping and opens the box. “You got me this?”

“Yes. I thought we established this.”

Four beams and doesn’t even open the box all the way before he runs at you and practically tackles you over. “Thank you!”

“You’re wel-”

Four take the breath to plant a big ol’ smooth on your cheek, silencing anything else you were going to say.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” 

It’s the happiest you’ve seen him.

You can’t even get your thoughts together before he give you another hug and dashes away from you to enjoy his gift.

Or brag about it to the others.

You wanted to avoid that, which is why you brought him all the way out here beyond the camp...but you can never really tell what he’s going to do next.

You smile regardless and touch the spot on your cheek.

At least he likes it.

Sky

“I have no idea how you do this Sky.” You gulp and lean over marginally over the edge. “I hate free falling. How is this a fun thing to do?”

“It’s not so bad when you can trust your loftwing to catch you.”

“I don’t have a loftwing. You keep using that word and I have no idea what you mean.”

“You’ll be fine anyway. The water will catch you.”

“That’s not remotely as reassuring as you think it is.”

“You’re over thinking it. Stop thinking.” Sky laughs a little as he gets closer to you.

“Easier said than done.”

“Trick yourself then.”

“How?”

“A distraction would be a good start.” Sky hums.

“And how to suppose I distract myself?” You deadpan.

Sky shrugs before leaning over and giving you a kiss on the cheek. It stuns you enough that freeze on your spot and Sky takes the opportunity to spin you around by your shoulders and promptly shoves you off of the cliff side.

He dives in right after you when he sees your head pop out of the surface, laughing as he goes.

[bokettochild]

Sticks and Stones May Break My Bones

Angst! My Beloved!

Not a lot of whump here, but I put Wild through the wringer!!! Lots of BotW2 ideas and concepts here, but nothing really cannon.

Also, disclaimer: I think Flora is a wonderful person, a bit harsh and sometimes unkind, but I feel for her a lot. The prompt submitted to me however asked for her as an ass, so that's what's here, for angst reasons. THIS IS NOT HOW I PLAN ON WRITING HER NORMALLY!!!

When Wild left the Chain behind in the woods, it was with a soft smile and a hesitant wave of his right hand. It was with a gentle ‘See y’all later’ that made Warriors shake his head with a sigh while Twilight offered a wobbly grin.

He would join them again, he knew that. After all, Hylia wouldn’t have chosen him to go with them in the first place if he was only supposed to leave before they’d even really started to know what it was that they were meant to be doing.

He’d see them again, and he’d fall back into a routine with all of them, sparring with Warriors and teaching Hyrule to cook and shield surfing with Wind and learning to carve from Sky. He’d go back to sewing with Legend, to exploring with Hyrule, to learning the Ocarina with Time and teasing Twilight about his terrible singing. He could work with Four on the Sheikah Slate and experimenting with different plants he’d gathered. He would see them again, and he’d go back to being busy and smiling nearly every day.

For the time being however, he had to square his shoulders and harden his jaw as he stepped through the swirl of black that had repulsed all the others every time they tried to enter. He had to tame his mind and wild spirit and come to stand before the Princess of Hyrule in all of her stern glory and receive the scolding he was due for wandering off without permission.

He never had time to question what she meant by being gone for ‘two whole weeks’ before she was marching off towards the labs and explaining that there was a new task for them to complete.

Such a task was one that left in his mind no time for thoughts of his brothers save on the lonely nights in the sky when the islands above the clouds were silent save for the birds about him that reminded him of Sky, or when he ran across the forests and was reminded of the wolf that once ran at his side. And, alright, the tiny people in the grass and the fountains reminded him of Four and Hyrule. When the wind sang strong in his ears as he dove towards the earth from the highest places in the sky, he couldn’t help but envision a small hero whose laughter danced like the sea and who’s fingers mastered the currents of wind and sea both.

It was a lonely quest, just like his last before it, but somehow it was more painfully so, now that he knew what it was to have brothers at his side to catch a monster’s blade when he was too slow or to help him patch himself up afterwards. It was quiet when the Princess and he sat around the fires as night, she studying him as he sat still and stonelike as she worked.

The hand that had waved goodbye to his brothers now flickered green and ethereal in the night shades, iron bands clinging to the wisping appendage and acting as a bond to hold its form together. It was nothing like what he’d known or studied in the Sheikah technology, or even what he’d seen from the many worlds he’d traveled with the other, and it earned many a stare and twist of the lips from those he met and traded with during his journey.

The arm was only the first of many changes, it’s power seeping through his body and altering him before he even knew what was happening. He’d hated it at first, disliking how it changed him, made his eyes glow and his hair touch with the same ethereal shades, red bleeding through at the roots and earning him even more wary looks.

Ganon, in all his terrifying power, had been a surprising comfort during the quest, an aid to discovering his new abilities and training them to bend to his own will. The Princess had been wary of their relationship, but had accepted it when she saw what he learned to do, and every evening she would require a report of his newfound skills, as well as the occasional demonstration or examination.

It all came to an end both too soon and not soon enough.

Ganon was gone, as if he’d never been there at all, and the Princess was as cold as ever even after their second adventure at each other's sides. And now there was no use for the abilities that had fused to his soul like the arm had to his flesh. He’d asked Purah if there was something that could be done to restore his body to its normal Hylian state, without the glowing limb that earned his only stares and insults from the village people, but the Princess had overheard it and declared that such a thing should not even be attempted.

“You don’t understand, Link. Don’t be foolish! We have here a scientific marvel ready for our investigation and exploration and you want to get rid of it just because it looks odd?”

He’s shuffled his feet slowly, resisting the impulse to rub at his chest where the Hylian part of him ended and the eldritch horror began. “I can’t live like  Hylian anymore.”

“Because you aren’t one!” Her Highness rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Sir Knight, after everything I certainly doubt that Hylian even applies to you anymore! Hylians do not possess the qualities that you now do, and they most certainly do not travel through stone or time or any other such thing at will. Think would you! You’re something else entirely, and I intend to find out what that is!”

Purah had frowned at that, eyes full of sorrow as they met his own with an apologetic sigh. But there was nothing the de-aged scientist could really say against the royal Sovreign of Hyrule, not as a Sheikah sworn to the service of the royal family. The woman/girl had offered him a sympathetic pat on the head later after climbing up to reach high enough to do so, as well as a few dumplings that Paya had sent on her grandmother’s behalf the day before. It was a welcome gesture, but amounted to so little on the grand scale of life. Not when so many others he had once called his friends had so blatantly rejected the mere sight of him.

Bolson and the other carpenters shied away from him with harsh whispers as they spat insults across the distance.

‘Half-blood’.

‘Gerudo Bastard’.

‘Freak’.

‘Demon’.

There were favorite insults spread from stable to stable and up and coming village to up and coming town and slowly all of Hyrule knew of the monster that had once been the hero. Gossip abounded, and he couldn’t even turn to shield his face with his hood without drawing attention to his arm.

It was only the koroks that welcomed him, themselves all too accustomed to the strange and ethereal. Them and the blupees.

Maybe it was the knowledge of how it felt to be shot at for his oddness that allowed him to ease into the graces of the flighty animals. And maybe it was his lonely heart crying for comfort, but when nestled in their midst, it almost reminded him of how it felt to be hugged by the salty veteran, on the rare occasional that the pink-haired hero had let down his guard.

The fairy’s tangled themselves in his hair and the blupees gathered at his feet, koroks dancing around him and flying to his side as if he was some sort of forest god, but the strange rise of his spirits in their presence shattered the instant a traveler caught sight of him.

Arrows and fire, once his favorite of weapons, were turned against him as words in every language of the New Hyrule had burst from the mouths of its people, and like his namesake, he ran before them, darting through the forest and fading in amidst the trees, hiding, incorporeal and translucent within the halls of the forest as those he’d once seen as allies pushed him away.

He’d begged the new Queen for aid, for relief or even just a word to the people that he wasn’t the evil they had come to think he was, but she only waved him aside with a purse of her lips. “You are not meant to be here without first asking.” The Child of Hylia declared, eyes as cold as the Shrine’s waters themself. “And why should I make a declaration on behalf of a man who refuses to even speak to me properly? You come groveling like a worm, yet for years it was I who you ignored. See how it feels, Sir Hero, to be the one left helpless at the hands of the country. Know what it is to be scorned by those who you thought would love you.”

He’d barely made it out of the window before the trainee guards of the newly repaired Hyrule Castle had caught him and Queen Zelda Diana Hyrule had stared after him with eyes colder than Hebra’s tallest peaks.

It was the Father Tree -the Deku Tree as the Queen had called it, but the koroks laughed at him for using the name, so he’d adjusted in kind- who suggested that he hide the changes, and he’d begun to wander Hyrule as much as possible to find the materials he would have needed.

The Queen still required his presence regularly so she could inspect him; her love of science no ways tainted as to stop her from ordering him to appear regularly, as there was now no need or safety in his acting as her guard. The Queen sought her people’s respect, and to employ such a being as himself, not Hylian and not quite mortal, would be to spark fear in the people. Indeed, when he skirted villages, he would wince at word of ‘the queen’s monster’ as gossip was traded. Those who didn’t see him themselves knew him as a beast of feral nature who lived amid the lost woods and destroyed any who came close.

“A specter that glows with the light of the shrines.” They would tell each other over campfires. “It has eyes like a ghost, empty and lost, with no care for humanity or Hylia’s chosen. They say it was once the Hero of this world, but he died ages ago.”

“I heard it’s the body, possessed by a being beyond this realm, a monster escaped from the edges of reality that tried to hide in our midst but corrupted it’s host so that it only scares away others, leaving it roam the earth in a shattered body. If you get too close to it though, it’ll take your instead.”

He’d stayed away from towns after that.

The blupees and koroks had been happy to help him to find what he needed to hide among the Hylians should he wish though, and two in particular guided him; the korok swinging little twigs like they were batons and humming swinging little shanties as it hopped along the path, the blupee snorting softly and nipping at his heels when he wandered too far, unnatural purple eyes staring up at him with something that was fondness and a reprimand all at once, and in their care he’d made his way across the land of Hyrule to find what would be needed to return to his once life.

The fairies and their Great cousins had been welcome help, and in time, he’d been able to walk amid the populace of Hyrule like any other, as long as he kept a long cloak about him and his hair pulled back to hide where the roots would begin showing again in gold and ethereal blue.

Once Hyrule had talked about needing to hide in his world, about the curse that followed him and made the Hylian people afraid. He’d thought it bizarre and ridiculous of the people at the time, but now he understood what it was to live it.

When the portal opened beneath his feet the day that the Queen had reprimanded him for concealing and potentially damaging the strange limb, startling the Skeikah scientists and Queen both, he’d nearly cried tears of relief.

He was going away, somewhere where he wasn’t a science project and where, unless they traveled to his world’s future, no one would know how much he had changed. His copy of the slate had enough hair dye to last him a few months, and he was certain he could make more over time, and as long as he continued wearing the tunics and gloves the fairies had helped him to adjust to hide the glow the others would probably never catch on. Or well, he could extend it anyway.

His brothers greeted him with open arms and teary eyes, and in a strange parallel to his adventure, he found himself thinking of blupees when Legend had curled against him, stiff and cold on the outside, but with fingers that clutched his tunic just a bit too tight to really be reluctant. And Four, Hyrule and Wind’s exuberant hugs and chatter brought to mind tiny forest people and koroks with twigs for batons.

It was good to be home.

It was good to cook for other people again, and they were glad to have him cook for them, even if his fondness for both Gerudo spiced dishes and fae like sweet things had increased exponentially during his newest adventure. It was good to fight at their sides, even if it was strange to once again have to take others into account before he could select a weapon. It was good to sit around a fire and talk with the others too, but that was perhaps the hardest one; it had been ages since he’d had a proper two-way conversation with anything other than a tree or a korok, and neither of those was good at either staying awake or staying focused for very long.

There were some harder things to adjust to though. Fire, for one. Unlike before when he’d have been happy to burn an enemy camp to the ground, now he was wary of using faming weapons or spreading heat further than necessary. The same went for hunting; he couldn’t bring himself to shoot an animal unless it attacked first or they needed the meat it would provide, and even then, he felt a bit bad for doing so. Is this what Twilight had felt like? Is this why the rancher never liked hunting? Because he too knew what it was like to be on the other end of the bow?

But the hardest thing by far to readjust to was his name.

‘Wild’ they had called him again, and after months of ‘the wild one’, ‘wild beast’, ‘monster’ and every other insult, slur or title that had been used on him, it made him flinch ever so slightly at the words. And unlike the other things where his brothers dismissed it as a change caused by his adventure or an increase of maturity, it was something that the others seemed to either not notice or to excuse as situational.

He had adapted though, learned to keep a smile on his face where blankness had once been required in his knightly duties, and the more he wore the mask the easier it was to put on again.

He’d reveled in traveling across time again, in dancing through battles and exploring the world without the Queen reprimanding him in her cold tones to stop wandering off. He’d pushed himself to learn more music in the last adventure, and even if his experience was more with what few instruments Ganon had had time to help him learn, he’d enjoyed sitting down with the others and borrowing one or another instrument to play a tune and sometimes he even got to sing.

He fell to comfortably into his role though, even with the changes, and he hadn’t even noticed when they’d come back to his world. To be fair, it was different in the daytime, and Hyrule had changed so much in the absence of her hero as he hid himself away from the eyes of civilization. Towns and roads had sprung up where there had only been fields before, and the Guardians that had littered the land had all been dug up and hauled to the castle to be either restored or destroyed by the Sheikah, depending on what Queen Zelda decided after she looked at them herself. The world was so different to him, so unlike that which he knew, that he’d failed to keep as alert as he ought to have been when he wandered about an open market with the others, laughing and chattering away with the other younger ones as Time and Legend herded them towards the needed stalls.

It was a traveler that was his downfall, a man who’d seen the Monster Hero and had been among the first to discover the disguise he wore.

No questions were asked when the word spread, and Wild hadn’t caught on to the whispers until a stone had struck his cheek and he was stumbling forwards on the path.

“Wild!” Twilight was at his side in a minute, Time right after him as Legend launched a barrage of insults at the guilty party who’d thrown the thing.

“’m fine.” He was careful to wipe the blood away with his cloak, holding the fabric to the wound to prevent bluish blood seeping down his face and exposing him to his brothers. He wanted to keep them as long as possible and proving himself to be a monster, not even Hylian, would surely have them turning their backs on him.

“Get away from him!” A woman scolded, grabbing ahold of two of the younger heroes while several other shoppers had like ways grabbed Legend and Sky. “Are you dears alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“Freaking what?” Legend shrieked. “Who’s the injured party here?”

“I’d avoid that thing, son.” A man huffed through a frankly walrus like mustache, eyes hard as they trailed to where Wild stood, cloak still pressed to his cheek as he attempted to wave off a fussing Twilight and Time. “It’s not natural. Sure, it looks like a normal Hylian, but that’s just an effective ruse.”

Another villager nodded. “It’s one of the Calamity’s puppets, a Gerudo-Bastard set on destroying the kingdom!”

“He’s the freaking hero!” Legend shrieked, barely being held back by a steely eyed Sky. “He saved all your freaking asses and all you can do is insult his flipping guts? Who’s the-”

“Enough.” There were few times that Sky’s voice reached levels worse than Twilight’s growls, but the stern command, regal and firm, froze all present as the man stiffened with a cold nod towards the villagers. “I see we are unwelcome here, and with that being the case it would be wise to spend our rupees elsewhere. Legend,” A tug to the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s join the others and be out of their hair. If they cannot be welcoming and kind to our brother than they will not receive our patronage.” And like a swan gathering it’s cygnets, Sky swept down the street, cape fluttering as he ushered the rest of them out of the town and back to the safety of the wilds. The village stared after them with wide eyes, as if they’d just been judged by a breathing god.

The stiffness in Sky’s shoulders faded as they neared the edge of the forest, and instantly the Chosen Hero been tutting over Wild, gently but firmly prying his hand away from his face with a kind smile that almost set Wild at ease. Almost.

“It’s fine, it’s just a scrape.”

“Still.” Sky crooned softly. “I’d rather we clean it up now and make sure it’s nothing worse than let it sit and get infected later.”

And though he’d tried to fight, his single Hylian hand was no match for the firm grip of the Skyloftian, and within minutes his face was exposed to the shocked faces and flickering eyes of his brothers.

“It’s blue...” Wind breathed as Hyrule darted forwards, hands already glowing softly only for them to stutter to a stop over Wild’s skin.

“It’s... Wild, why is your blood- why is-” The healer’s eyes had flickered golden for a moment, wide as they stared up at him. “What happened to you-”

“What the freak!” Legend had startled, blinking in surprise as he stared. “Your eyes are glowing!”

Shit! The healing properties of the arm had already taken affect and it was making everything act up all weird! He shot a glance down at his arm, one hand raising to tangle in the long hair he couldn’t even see at the moment, praying silently beneath his breath that nothing was showing through. It wasn’t, but that didn’t change how Hyrule had come to fixate on his right arm, or how the healer's fingers hovered over it sparking and eyes twinkling as he whispered softly under his breath.

“Wild.” Time had sighed. “I think this one is going to need an explanation.”

All the breath left his lung in instants.

He’d panicked to say the least and Time had eventually shooed the others away to make camp as the eldest hero had sat at his side, waiting silently for him to regulate his breathing. Touch was too much right now, and any attempts from the others to ease him down or help him level out his breathes had only made him panic more. But when at last his blue eyes blinked back to clarity it was to see Time sitting at his side, a gentle tune wafting from the Ocarina at his lips.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, trying his hardest not to startle Time or otherwise make the situation worse. “I should have said something, I know. I just- missed being Wild and I wanted to come back and be normal and I didn’t want to-”

“It’s alright.” Time’s voice rumbled softly, a single blue eye turning to him with a pained look, even as the man offered him a hint of a smile. “None of us talk about our adventures either.”

“Yes, but you’re people.” He sighed, rubbing the fingers of his glove together. “You’re allowed to choose things.”

There was pain in Time’s voice when their leader answered. “And you’re not?”

“I’m not Hylia anymore.” He whispered. “I don’t count.”

“You count to us.”

“That’s because you don’t know.”

Time shifted, turning to face him fully as the ocarina was set firmly in the grass. “That’s because you’re family and we care. Wild, I don’t care if Demise himself named you the king of the dead, you’re still my kid and Nayru knows I’m not going to let you go without a fight. If that means fighting you, alright, but you’d best better believe that no amount of physical or mental changes will break the bonds we all have with you.”

Something, something damaged and crushed and stitched up and torn open again clenched inside of him, tears pricking at his eyes as he stared up at Time’s royal blue gaze. “W-what?”

“You could be granted godhood, made a monster, I don’t care. You’re ours and you’ll have to deal with that.” Time smiled, warm even with the pain in his eyes as he looked down at him. “So how about you start again, maybe with the facts rather than the insults. Or,” Time softened, brows furrowing lightly. “If you want, we can just sit here and you can choose to talk about this later. We do need to know, so we can help you and keep you safe, but you don’t have to tell us right now. You can take some time to figure out what you want to say if you need.”

And, well, shoot him, but Time’s arms had always been a safe place and there was one thing he’d wanted more than anything since he had come back. Wild threw himself into his grand-mentor's arms with a soft sob, clutching tightly to the other, ignoring the armor and its sharp points and awkward shapes as he tried to hold back all the emotions swirling in his chest.

Time’s arms folding around him broke the floodgates though, and when the man’s hand had stroked through his shortened hair, he’d had to bury his face in Tim’s neck to muffle his sobs.

“There, there,” Time hummed softly, rocking slowly as he held the broken wild hero. “Let it out, little one. I have you, I’ve got you and I’m not letting anyone hurt you.”

[ymiwritesstuff]

The Limits of a Hero

Hello hello, I’m here to bring you something rather special. A quick fun fact: When I started writing years ago, Link was actually the first character I ever wrote for, so this piece is sort of going back to my roots as a writer. That, and I’ve been in a HUGE Twilight Princess mood lately, (I recently bought a few volumes of the manga and I am very much enjoying it) so I thought I’d write this quick thing for my favorite incarnation of Link. I hope those of you who also like him will enjoy this.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Link x Reader

Summary: During a seemingly ordinary night out in the woods you decide to give the hero a much needed chance to rest.

Notes: Fluff, some light angst

The tree trunk felt rough against your back, but it provided a much-needed opportunity to finally rest and recollect your energy after yet another day of fighting against the twilight and its corrupt ruler. Yet you found a strange calm when surrounded by the night, the warm flames of the campfire swaying in the cool wind.

The wood crackled, the breeze howled and your eyelids grew heavy. You wouldn’t close them, however. Not yet. Instead, you kept your (E/C) eyes on the glowing fire, occasionally throwing in a stick or two to make sure your source of heat wouldn’t disappear.

Your thoughts wandered, as they often did ever since you were thrown into this dangerous adventure. How did everything change so fast? You could still hear the water trickling down the waterwheel in Ordon as if it was yesterday. Everything had gone wrong so fast, and now you were trying to save the entire kingdom from something you didn’t fully understand.

You knew it was the same for Link. But unlike you, he was much better at suppressing his confusion and doubts. You had noticed a change in him, no doubt caused by the sudden responsibility laid upon his broad shoulders. In addition to the more obvious changes in his attire, his cerulean eyes lost some of their glow, he somehow grew even more silent and he didn’t smile as often. All because he felt that his role as the hero chosen by the Gods demanded it.

It must have been tiring, you thought, yet he pressed on, never once letting even a single mention of how much it all weighed down on him slip from his lips. But you could see it. Whether it was in the way his shoulders fell with a sigh whenever he finished slaughtering a group of Bokoblins or how he yawned and stretched his arms almost every time he hopped off Epona. His body was fatigued, but his eyes held nothing but determination.

The rustling of leaves that came from behind snapped you back to reality, and your eyes fell on the bush where the grey animal soon emerged from, carrying something in his mouth the edges of which and a part of his lower body was seemingly damp. You watched as he walked with heavy steps towards the fire before dropping the thing you recognized to be a Hyrule Bass on the ground.

The fish flopped on the dirt and you found yourself raising a confused eyebrow at him, before locating his fishing rod not too far away from the fire, indicating that he had forgotten to take it with him. You looked at the fish again.

“Are we this desperate?” You managed to ask him as his beastly form quickly reverted to his original form you were familiar with. He sat on the ground and gave you a slight nod.

“We’re running low on food,” he said, taking a sip from his bottle of water. Most of his equipment was laying on the ground, though he was still fully clad in his green tunic, chainmail and all.

You noticed him taking out a small knife, no doubt intending to use it to prepare the freshly caught fish. He would not dare use his sacred sword for such a task. The bass was fairly big, enough for both of you, you surmised.

“I can take care of it,” you offered, noticing the tired look in his eyes as they turned to you. He shook his head lightly.

“It’s fine, (Name),” he assured and began cutting into the flesh, but you persisted.

“You haven’t slept properly in days.” It had been an exhausting few days, filled to the brim with battles against Shadow Beasts and other enemies. It took its toll on both of you yet he showed no outward signs of fatigue. Not that it was necessary, for right now, anyone could see the dark circles and bags under his otherwise gorgeous eyes.

He glanced at you, clearly pondering over your words while continuing to cut the fish. You were right, as you often were. He was exhausted, but the selflessness in him didn’t want you to lose any of the sleep you needed.

“Someone has to keep watch,” he began, but you quickly shut him down.

“Which I can do.”

You scooted over to him, noticing him making the final cuts to the scaly flesh of the fish. Placing a hand on top of his, you kept your eyes on him, trying to convince him.

“You need to rest, Link. Please.”

Upon hearing your voice that left your lips as a quiet plea he finally gave in, letting out a sigh that carried all his exhaustion into the air and letting go of the knife. He finally turned to you, his drained eyes glowing in silent relief.

“Will you be alright? You know you can wake me up any time if-”

“I’ll be fine. The only thing you need to worry about is getting some sleep.”

Your hand reached up to slowly remove his cap, exposing his dirty blond hair that bathed in the glowing embers of the campfire. You offered him a smile equally warm as the flames which he thankfully returned.

Planting the tiniest kiss on his cheek, you retreated from him, once again leaning against a lone tree. With your hand you lightly patted your lap, wanting the hero in front of you to have the best possible chance at getting a good night’s rest.

He laid his weary head on your lap and almost immediately, he let out a long yawn that indicated just how much he needed this, despite his stubborn protests. Your fingers found their way into his hair, running through his locks in a soothing manner.

Silence fell around you, though it was a refreshing change from the usual noises of battle and struggles. You stared at the fire once again, its welcoming warmth enveloping both of you.

“You’ve changed,” you admitted, thinking back to the simpler times, during which Link would have been more than compliant to sleep when he needed it. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes glued to the starlit sky above.

“I guess I have,” he agreed. You wondered if he meant it to the same degree as you did. Even now, you noticed the solemn expression on his face you had never seen back home.

Home. You thought about it a lot. Maybe a little too much at times. Ordon meant a lot to you, even more to Link you assumed. Perhaps that’s why he had gotten so stoic and serious. He was merely trying to protect what he held dear.

It was admirable, he was, by all accounts, a hero. Courageous, selfless, strong, yet still a mere Hylian. A capable Hylian indeed, but still a Hylian. A Hylian who the entire kingdom needed to save them. Everyone expected so much of him, it seemed as if he himself forgot his limits.

“You’re not all-powerful, Link.”

Your eyes fell on him, and his own looked up at you. Someone needed to be his voice of reason, and you were more than willing to take that role if it meant ensuring his safety when he sometimes couldn’t.

“Maybe I should be.”

Your eyebrows frowned at that. You knew he felt a certain sense of guilt about what happened to the children of the village. They were safe now, but there was a stinging sensation of shame embedded in him that made him feel responsible for all of it.

“Don’t say that. You did all you could. Pushing yourself to the point where you can’t stay up anymore won’t solve anything.”

He knew you were right. You almost always were. Link had always secretly wondered if it was a blessing that it was you who had accidentally stumbled across the same wall of Twilight that had transformed him into a beast. In all honesty, he was thankful.

“I’m just... Worried about you,” you confessed, feeling a small sense of dread in the core of your being. Just thinking about what could happen to him if he didn’t take care of himself made your stomach churn.

A troubled look fell on his face, as if he was feeling guilty about making your eyes fill with concern. You inhaled deeply and pressed your lips on his forehead, not wanting your own uneasiness make him anxious.

“Rest now. I’ll keep watch.”

With a small nod, he allowed his heavy eyelids to close and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth that was partially agape.

For the first time in days, he looked truly peaceful. His body relaxed, rid of any signs of stress or tension, the only movement being that of his chest, moving up and down due to his steady breathing. With a smile you continued running your digits through his hair, hoping to comfort him even in his dreams you could only hope were as tranquil as your current surroundings.

“Goodnight, Link.”

[miraculouscontent]

Oh yeah I forget you play Pokémon. What were your thoughts on the recent Pokémon Presents presentation, as well as the Sinnoh games we just had? (The Diamond and Pearl remakes plus Legends Arceus)

I don’t have enough of an opinion on the Presents just because I need more to make an opinion. The Grass starter is definitely my favorite though; something about the Fire one is putting me off and the Water one looks like a Ducklett and Wingull had a baby.

I didn’t touch the Diamond and Pearl remakes for multiple reasons. I’ve played through generation 4 so many times and I just had no interest in playing a 1-to-1 copy of it even with what was added to it.

Legends Arceus has been fun so far (I caught another random shiny between my last post and now and at this point I think the game is screwing with me; they’ve also all been Gen 4 Pokemon which was interesting), but there are some issues so far that make me think the game wasn’t polished up properly (for reference as to where I am, I’m up to the third Ride Pokemon):

- Climbing is borderline unplayable and I’m constantly frustrated by it. I’m aware of the exploit to help but it’s either not perfect or I haven’t perfected it. I’m always feeling either like, “I should be able to make this,” or, “my player character should be able to walk this on her own.” There was a particular spot in the third area that I felt like should be simple platforming, but the Ride Pokemon just doesn’t want to, and I only finally got up thanks to the second Ride Pokemon and some conveniently placed treasure as motivation (as he can “climb” better due to the speed increase of the motivator). Basically, slopes that look they should be easy end up being a gamble of me running/jumping blindly at it until it decides to let me up.

- There’s a quest to go around the region and find certain “static Pokemon” that I find fun, but their hitbox has been absolutely unfair to the point where I’ve wasted 20+ balls trying to catch a few of them (I reset but still). The light balls I wanted to use on all of them for consistency are either very broken in their hit box or I’m really unlucky, because most of my attempts plink off. As soon as I hit the Pokemon, it’s a guaranteed catch, but the game just doesn’t want me to have nice things.

-- (on a mini-tangent, there’s a hint to find one of them that feels intended to mislead you because the actual place the Pokemon is at isn’t where it implies it should be)

- Certain menuing seems broken. The way I sort my requests keeps resetting back to its standard even if it tells me I’m sorting the way I want (I’ve also passed over completely/grayed out missions before and they go back to not being grayed out for no reason (merely a visual glitch but still).

- Small issues with being noticed. Sometimes alpha Pokemon will “follow” after me while I’m hiding in grass, despite having not noticed me (with the “...”/”!” sign, sometimes I’ll still have the visual “noticed” warning on the top of the screen even though the music is chill and nothing’s happening, and so on.

- There’s an equivalent to Breath of the Wild’s “Bullet Time” mode, which is hampered by a difficulty to catch Pokemon partially submerged in water. Maybe I just haven’t practiced enough yet but I cannot do anything of value with it. Many a ball has been lost to the ocean. 

- Speaking of catching, sometimes my Pokeball will just... plink off the Pokemon’s head entirely for no reason and I still don’t understand why (they haven’t noticed me and aren’t in a state in which the ball should). The game doesn’t hold you hand all the time but there are instances where I feel like it should’ve guided/instructed me better on why certain things happen..

- Cutscenes are still hampered by the usual “fade to black so something can happen off-screen” thing. In addition, there have been a few minor visual “glitches” that thankfully don’t bother me overall but are still there and proof of an unpolished game. The belt on the Karate Gi outfit glitched during a cutscene, some characters’ idle animations are clearly missing a frame of animation while others have this thing where they or parts of the clothes “snap” to a certain place in the animation (Choy, one of the people you buy items from, is a good example of this; I’m constantly distracted by that little white thing at his waist clicking/snapping back even though the animation should be smooth), I’ve had multiple occasions where the grass blowing in the wind has just given up and keeps flickering back and forth in its animation, and so on.

Granted, I have weird luck with “breaking” games but I feel like this isn’t all me. I can deal with the not-super-perfect visuals because I don’t really care about that and I am genuinely having an overall-positive experience, but there have just been a few too many times where I think to myself, “That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen.” There are multiple quality of life features that I approve of but the game does require some mental hurdles for me to get over whenever I sit down to play, as I know they’re all going to happen.

My experience can be summed up as, “The game is unpolished, but I’m having a lot of fun.”

[supercorpkid]

Once Upon a Time in…

Camelot

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Emma Swan x Reader, Regina Mills x Reader, Snow White x Reader, Prince Charming x Reader, Merlin x Reader, Morgana Pendragon x Reader.

Word Count: 3100.

Previously on the series - Neverland

“So I guess we’re going to Camelot.”

You look at Henry, not knowing what that means. Wait, Camelot. Legend of the sword? It can’t be it. They can’t be talking about that, right? But you look around, you see Snow White’s soft smile at you, the ‘Evil Queen’ appearing and disappearing with nothing but a purple fog around her. They are definitely talking about king Arthur, and Lancelot and the sword buried on the ground that no one could lift it.

“I need my bow and arrow.”

“And my sword!”

“We should take more than one magic bean.” How is it possible that you’re not even surprised about magic beans anymore?

It takes around fifteen minutes for everyone to be standing in the same place close to you, ready to go to Camelot. Henry nods his affirmation at you, and you almost feel bad for making all these people use a magic bean and go to a different world, just to ask a powerful wizard how to take you home. But then again, you really need to get back home. So, you’ll accept the help.

“We’re all ready?” Emma asks and you nod in agreement. “To Camelot!”

And to Camelot you go, through a magic bean, and dear Rao you can’t wait to tell Jamie this. She is never going to believe you.

When you get to Camelot, to the castle, Merlin is nowhere to be found. King Arthur -although he is not king yet, so- sends someone for him and all you can do is wait.

“Wait, wait! They’re here! My moms! They’ve come to pick me up!” You point out the window. Watching Lena, all dressed as she belongs in this story, walking by.

“No, I believe you’re incorrect, child. That’s Morgana.” Arthur says, making you even more confused. “She might look like someone you know. But there’s nothing in her heart that shall confuse you any further.”

“What happened to her?”

“What didn’t? That would be far more of an appropriate question. But this matter shall not be discussed any further, as Merlin should be returning to assist you.”

You look around. Snow, Charming, Emma and Regina are waiting on Merlin for a solution. And you want it too. You need to go back home, but-

You look out the window again. To where you saw ‘Morgana’. She looks just like your mother. You can’t help yourself from sneaking out of the room in a flash. You think you’ve left unnoticed. You’re wrong.

“Hey, where are you going?” Henry yells at you and you finally stop. You look behind and see him running towards you. “Merlin is coming. He is your chance to go home.”

“Henry, I know what I saw, ok? That woman, she-she looks just like my mom. Don’t you think that’s a crazy coincidence?”

“She could be using magic to trick you.”

“Yeah, she could.” You agree with your head, but don’t turn back. Henry stands beside you, looking like he’ll follow you if you decide to go. “I have to.”

“Wait, before you go.” He takes an enormous book out of his backpack. “Maybe you should read her story first. See what you’re dealing with.”

“Do you just carry this monstrosity everywhere?” You ask while he places the book in your hands.

“Just read it.” He flips through some pages, and you use your super speed to read faster.

“Huh.” You put the book down, furrowing your brows. Henry has the same expression. “Her story is-is like my mom’s.”

“How come?”

“She is an illegitimate daughter of someone powerful, raised as if she wasn’t family at all. She was good.” You open the book again to show it to him. “Then she was betrayed by Merlin! Her friend. He knew she had magic and thought she would become evil, so he tried to poison her. And that is what turned her evil.”

“Oh, is your mom evil? Mine was too!”

“No. That’s the thing. My mom, she had her moments, but she redeemed herself. My mom was always supposed to fall into the light. But Morgana-”

“Is supposed to be the darkness to Merlin’s light.” Henry finishes reading the sentence back to you.

“Don’t you get it? She wasn’t evil. She doesn’t have to be evil. If we can save her then-”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know.” You breathe deep. “I don’t know, but maybe that’s the reason why we’re here. Because heroes need to save. And Morgana needs saving.”

“Maybe we should call the rest of the family.” Henry says looking to where his mothers are.

“There’s no time. There she goes.” You watch Morgana going inside the woods. “MORGANA!”

“It’s High Priestess to you.” She turns around and you look at her. You really look at her. There’s no kindness in her face. “What do you want?”

“I wanna help you.” You give one step forwards, shielding Henry with your body.

Morgana looks at you, she really looks at you, like she can see deep inside your soul. It’s so hard seeing her, as she looks just like Lena. And you wonder if Lena could have fallen into this dark path too. Why does one have to fall into the light, and the other into the darkness? What if things weren’t as black and white?

“This isn’t you. You were good. Kind-hearted. They’ve turned you into this, but you can fight it.”

“I don’t want to fight it. I want to embrace it.” Morgana gives you an evil grin. “I want power, I want to rule Camelot. Being good will take me nowhere.”

“You will never rule Camelot being evil.” Henry chimes in. “Haven’t you heard? Good always wins, so you will never take over Camelot like this.”

“You’re looking at this all wrong, kid. What do the good guys get in the end? A happy little family? Settling for dumb hopeful kids?” She scoffs and you know she is talking about you and Henry. Dumb hopeful kids. Ouch. “That’s not in my cards. I want something far greater, but you wouldn’t understand.”

You look back to Henry, exchanging a hopeless look. “Arthur was right. There’s nothing in your heart to confuse me.”

“Arthur being right? That would be a first.” She looks at Henry behind you, gives you a mischievous smile. “You don’t have to protect your brother. He doesn’t look powerful at all. You, on the other hand…”

“He is not my brother.”

“And I guess he won’t ever be, if you make the right choice.” She quirks one eyebrow at you looking amused. Your mind screams Lena. Your heart says otherwise. “You mistake me for someone else. I do not know why the person holds your heart like that, but I assure you, if you stand with me, you won’t need anyone else.”

“Why?”

“Because I can give you power. Beyond the one you have.” Morgana motions to the castle. “This entire kingdom shall be mine. Soon. It could be ours, if you wish.”

“Don’t do it.” Henry whispers behind you. You give one step forward, instead.

“I don’t want a kingdom. I want to go home.” You say, earning a smirk as a response.

“Great. I wouldn’t want to share, anyhow. Why don’t we make a deal? You help me take back what’s mine by right, and I’ll send you to wherever you want.”

“Another reality?”

“Don’t do it!” Henry speaks a little louder. Morgana’s eyes turn bright yellow, and she moves her hand, throwing Henry backwards, with nothing but that.

“Believe in me now?”

“Yes.”

“NO! DON’T DO IT!” You hear Henry’s yelps getting louder as you move closer to Morgana.

“Does he ever shut up?” She asks, eyes turning yellow again.

“Get away from her, Morgana!” You hear from your side and see a guy raising his sword at her. “She’s just a kid and has nothing to do with your desire for revenge.”

“Merlin.” She points out, nonchalantly. And you blink your eyes feeling yourself coming down from a weird dream. When you look behind yourself you see Snow with her bow and arrow ready to shoot. Charming is pointing a sword at her too. Regina’s hands are on fire. Emma also has white magic coming out of her hands. “I see you brought a cavalry. You always need it when you’re up against me.”

“Get away from the kids!” Emma yells from behind you.

“Too bad.” Morgana looks at you, ignoring everyone else. “I would’ve guessed you wanted to go home. Merlin cannot do that for you. You’ll be STUCK with them.”

Her words send shivers down your spine. And you cave, feeling like you should follow her because she is your only hope. You give one step forward again.

“Get away from her! You’re not the only evil witch in here.” Regina says, earning a sigh from Morgana.

“I see the decision was made for you.” She says while she leaves, as quickly as she appeared.

“Are you ok?” Snow runs to you, while Emma and Regina help Henry up. She touches your face looking for any bruises.

“She didn’t hurt me.” But your eyes are full of tears, and Snow can’t believe you’re not hurt.

“Come on.” She throws her arms around your shoulders and guides you back to the castle. “Merlin’s here now. He’ll help you.”

But she was wrong. Merlin can’t help you. So Morgana was right.

“Another protection spell around the city, you say?” Merlin seems to be considering the information. “I’m sorry to inform you that there are no shortcuts, and you must break this curse as you’ve broken the last one.”

“But we don’t know who started the curse this time.” Regina says.

“Then you must start there. But quickly. As long as she is in Storybrooke inside a curse, she’ll become part of the book. And then, she won’t be able to leave again.” Merlin has not even finished talking and you’re already crying. Storybrooke is nice but you can’t be stuck there. You have to go back home. “I apologize if my help wasn’t what you required.”

“It’s ok.” You sigh. Heart even heavier on your chest now. “I’m used to losing.”

“I have victories and I’ve losses-” Arthur puts his hand on your shoulder. “And I’ve learned that it’s the losses that require us to be brave.”

Sure, it makes sense. You know it’s true, you know you have to be brave. But his words don’t fix the ache in your heart and the emptiness in your stomach. You’re still a kid, stuck in a foreign city, with fairytale characters as friends. If the pain didn’t feel so real, you would’ve thought you were dreaming.

“Thanks.” You point to the door. “I’ll wait outside while you guys figure out how we’re leaving.”

You walk outside. Looking around to see if anyone is following you. It seems that this time Henry didn’t follow you, so you’re safe. You don’t want to help Morgana take over Camelot, especially not because she’s doing it for revenge. But she was right, Merlin can’t take you home. Maybe she is your only option. Maybe you have to do the dubious call so you can get back home to your moms, aunts, cousin, girlfriend-

One step forward.

Kara would never tell you to do the wrong thing, no matter how long it would take for her to see you again.

One step back.

But would she be right? Would it be fair for you to wait to get home and maybe never get back, because you couldn’t do what’s morally wrong even if it was for you to see them again? Maybe Lena would have told you to help Morgana. So you could get home to them and be safe and sound.

One step forward.

But then again, would she have wanted for you to fall into the wrong path because of them? Would she have liked to have that guilt hanging over her head?

One step back.

“You’re still here.” You hear Emma’s voice, and you look back at her. “I was sure you would be out in the woods looking for that woman.”

“So you stepped out to stop me?”

“You know she can’t be trusted, don’t you?” She ignores your question. You agree with your head. “But you’re still considering following her.”

“She might be my only hope to see my family again.” You bite your lower lip, holding your tears. “Henry told me a little about your story. Back when you were a kid, all alone in that universe. If someone could have brought you to your family, wouldn’t you have followed them?”

“I think I would.”

“Then you understand why I’m considering doing it.”

“Trust me, kid. I know what it’s like when others tell you what you can and can’t do, especially when you’re a kid. But ultimately, whatever you’re considering doing or giving up, the choice is yours.” Emma says and you shake your head, confused and lost. You weren’t expecting her to say that. You thought she would stop you immediately. It feels heavy, having a choice. “I know you have no reason to believe us, but we’re not going to stop until we can find a way to your home.”

“You won’t?” You ask, a lonely tear streaming down your face. Emma shows you her hand.

“We won’t.”

And so you take her hand. Leaving Morgana, and maybe your chance of getting home, behind you.

“Hey, are you two ok? We’re ready to leave.” Regina says and Emma looks at you, waiting for your response.

“Hmm, yeah. Sure. Let’s go back to Storybrooke.”

And you all come back. And everyone finds their way into what it seems to be the only diner in town, sharing a table like a big, happy family. And it doesn’t matter how welcome they are making you feel, your heart still aches, and you can’t be around them without being sad and without missing your own family.

So, you step outside, and sit alone on a bench watching leaves flying in the wind. Thinking about what Kara must be looking at right now; wondering if Lena has left her lab in days to see that it is Autumn already; asking yourself how long they will keep looking without success, because as long as there is a curse cloaking this city, they won’t find you.

“Hey.” You watch Snow White coming closer to you, she points at the space next to you. “Can I join you?”

“Sure.”

She sits next to you. “What has come over you?”

“Just thinking that I probably left my only chance of going back home behind.” You sigh, heavily.

“You might have.” Snow agrees with her head, and you look at her waiting for more, because this is not comforting at all. “But it was the right thing to do, and you know that too. Because heroes do what's right. Not what's easy.” You agree with your head, because you’ve heard that before. “You know, every time I look at you I see a very strong hero.”

“Thought you were going to say that you saw yourself when you were younger.” You smile, and she chuckles, denying.

“Oh no. When I was younger, I would’ve followed Morgana into the forest because it was easier. It would’ve been a mistake, because there are other paths – harder paths, and later I would’ve wished to have taken them instead. So, I don’t see me in you. I see someone far greater. But I guess you are a Superhero, huh?”

“Just-” You stop yourself. It’s insane that you’re about to open up to a fairytale princess. But she is here, she looks interested and most of all, she looks like she cares. “I’m not really a hero anymore. Being a hero is exhausting, Snow. We fight every day, and we get beat up, and we get scared. And what for?”

“For the ones who can’t fight for themselves.”

“So because I was born with these powers, I’m supposed to fight for everyone? I’m not supposed to choose what’s right and better for me? What if I want to be selfish?”

“Kid, I know you’re tired of what life has thrown at you.” Snow holds your hand, and you agree with your head, unable to get your words out. “But you still fight for the good every single day. Every time you have hope, and faith, and care, you’re fighting against darkness whether you mean to or not. You did that today with Morgana.”

“But I failed.”

“No, you didn’t fail. She did. Her darkness was too strong. But your light is still intact.” Snow cups your face gently, like a grandmother would. “Sooner or later you will find your way back into saving. Because being a hero is not what you do, but rather who you are.”

“But what if that is not who I want to be?” You ask, eyes filled with tears and fear.

“Oh, honey, but it is.” She gives you a soft smile that says it all. “The choices you make every day it’s what makes you who you are. If Henry was lost in-” She narrows her eyes, trying to remember.

“National City.”

“If he was out there all alone, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to bring him back home?” Snow asks, but she seems to know the answer already, before you even nod at her. “See, being selfish could have made your life a lot easier. But would you be able to live with yourself while doing that?”

“No.” You cry, thinking about your life. “I would probably feel sick, and empty, and-and I don’t think I would make it out of bed.”

Huh. Did you just have a therapy session with princess Snow White?

“See? You can try and run from it, but if it’s who you are then it will always catch up to you. Trust me, I’m familiar with heroes, and you are, for sure, one of us.”

“Indefinitely.” You think about not making home, being stuck in Storybrooke until someone finally lifts the curse. You don’t know how long that will be. You hope your moms don’t give up on finding you.

“For as long as you’ll have us.” Snow throws her arms around you, and you let yourself fall into her comfort.

Being away from your life will suck. But thank Rao, they are the ones you’re stuck with.

Notes:

Am I making a crossover with Supergirl, OUAT and Merlin? Yes, yes I am. And I have to thank @oncemoonie for the prompts. That was really fun

[spasmsofthought]

fractures. (zuko x reader)

This is totally a free for all because I haven’t read any of the comics or watched Legend of Korra at all. Part 2 maybe, if you all think it’s worth it?? 

Kinda angsty, and mostly political - but y’all, I think Zuko learned how to be a politican as Fire Lord. This is me trying to explore that a little bit. 

Like, comment, reblog! Thank you for your support, as always! xo 

+ + + 

The first time you see him, he is touring the Earth kingdom as the Fire Lord. 

It’s been at least two years since he’s been crowned. It’s been two years since a Fire Nation flag last hung over the arches of every town entrance in the Earth kingdom. It’s been two years since a lot of things. 

Peace is a hard custom to keep when all you have known is war. Peace is a foreign language when all people know how to communicate is its opposite. 

The Fire Nation colonies are no longer known as such. Instead, villages and previous colonies outside of the former Earth Kingdom walls have formed into clans of their own. With the Earth King travelling during the latter part of the war, leadership has been thrown up in the air. There was no one to trust; especially after the Fire Nation invasion of Ba Sing Se. In all the chaos of the war, though, the de facto mantle of leadership among the small number of people in your village fell onto your family. You aren’t aware of the reason why, but being raised in a Fire Nation colony by a mother from the Northern Water Tribe and a father from the edges of the Earth Kingdom makes people feel something like safety in a land subjugated by an unrelenting and ever-growing superpower.

When the crowning of Zuko the Fire Lord happens, with Avatar Aang right by his side, the news spreads rapidly, even across the broken networks of communication established among the clan leaders. But even in the middle of developing a new world, there is still brokenness. There is still pain. There is still suffering. 

The world does not seem to heal the way people want it to: very slowly, in pieces rather than in a whole. There is still prejudice and hatred. Very little is still solved with words. 

It is the first time a foreigner has walked the land your people call home in two years.

It is the first time people see the color red on someone in two years; before, during the Invasion, red was what everyone saw on every passerby. Travel was severely limited and people mostly kept to their homes in fear of what Fire Nation guards would do to them on top of the restrictions and heavily imposed taxes. 

When he is directed to your doorstep by everyone in the village, the only one out of your family able to host him is you. Your father died in a skirmish near Ba Sing Se’s walls on his yearly pilgrimage to trade in a way that would have helped support your village during a time of scarcity two and a half years ago, right before the conquering of Ba Sing Se. Your mother is a figure made up only of stories. A figure who passed soon after your entrance into the world. 

For such an imposing figure, he wears very little ceremonial garb. It seems that he understands there is little need for formal ceremonial clothing in this community of people simply trying to survive in a world clawing back from the brink of total destruction. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” He begins with, bowing with hands formed in a traditional Fire Nation greeting. 

You bow back similarly, using a specific form of ceremonial bow used by formal authority figures here in the Earth Kingdom. Your hands move in a sweeping motion, directing the Fire Lord to a low table in the middle of the small living room your house has. The table settings are sparse and there is no fancy silverware, but there seems to be something in his countenance that relaxes slightly for some reason. 

“Please make yourself at home,” You try to make yourself seem soft. Yielding. Compliant. “Would you like any tea?” 

He nods, holding the simple cup up off the wooden structure slightly as you lift the tea pot and fill it halfway with the steaming liquid. You set it back down and it is then that Zuko surprises you for the first time. He nods his head towards your own cup. There is a pause, your mind trying to process the simple action, before you are moving your cup up off the table as well, watching the jasmine tea slowly fill up space that was previously empty. 

He gestures a toast to you, holding his cup close to yours while nodding, before he takes a sip. Out of respect, you take a swallow as well before you set your cup back down on the small coaster you were told your mother knit while pregnant with you. Blue and green repeat each other in a circular pattern, reminding you of how beautiful the two colors look together. Reminding you of your own roots face-to-face with someone who carries a vast and rich legacy of his own.

“If it’s alright, I would like to skip the formality of small talk and get to the real conversation. What is the purpose of your visit here?” For such an abrupt change in tone, he doesn’t seem surprised. He sets his cup down, too. 

“We would like to begin discussions with your clan about officially coming under the government of the Earth kingdom again.” 

You have to take a deep breath in. 

When you were little, your father always told you tales of his land’s history; of its vastness and proud strength. As you grew older, however, the tales turned into lessons of caution. He taught you to not trust the central government of the Earth kingdom for a reason. A reason you had soon found out had little to do with his own faith in the people he belonged to and more to do with the fact that the governing body had been crumbling for a long time. There had been a reason there was local autonomy among so many cities and villages, especially during the War. Despite the belief shared among many that the Earth kingdom remained a single political entity, the vastness of land kept that belief more of an idea than something that was practically applied. 

“I would love to see the Earth kingdom become the nation it was before the War, but there is a reason my people remain wary of allying ourselves under a central government again. We know about the details of the Coup of Ba Sing Se; we know the corruption that spread vast and wide among politicians, generals, and other administrators.” 

“I have been working with the Earth king very closely these past two years. It is our plan to host a gathering at the palace in Ba Sing Se with all local clan and tribe leaders to truly take your input into account while we finalize the development of the Earth kingdom’s government after this long period of strife. That is why I am here, to formally invite you...” 

You stop him before he can go any further, “Thank you, but my place is with my people.” 

“The Earth king desires that his nation once again be strong and united and at peace once again.” You want to know if he has always been an apt politican, or if this has something he has had to learn in these past two years. You wonder how he mediates both the needs of his own people and those of the world without faltering. 

“My experiences have taught me many lessons, as I am sure yours have taught you specific lessons as well. I have very little trust in a central government that before has previously become so easily fractured by whispers of greed and silent grabs for power, and can become so again.” 

“There are specific checks and balances in place so that never happens again. I have personally seen to these assurances in the formal writing of the government documents that have been extensively drawn up.” 

“How can I even trust you?” 

“I-” His mouth opens but more words from your mouth stop him before he can even begin. So much for being compliant. 

“I know the legacy of your family. I have witnessed the destruction your family has caused on this land; on the entire world. I do not know you personally. I only know that you have come to ask me to join a government I have little interest in letting rule my people once more when I am right here to make sure they are provided for and kept safe. There is very little about the world I can trust right now.” 

You begin to wonder, in the seconds of silence that linger afterward, if you have officially screwed up any chance at the peace people have been so longing for: here and abroad. You want to seem strong, but there always seems to be the chance to second-guess yourself. To back-up and take a new route. 

“I only know what it is like to be a new leader. I cannot offer you trust you are unwilling to take, but I can offer you the assurance that the Earth king, the Avatar and I will do whatever it takes to make sure the world is whole again.” 

You know he means it. Despite the solemnness of his face and his scar as a reminder to you of the stories of his own life that have yet to be told, there is a fire in his amber eyes that contains no violence, only the longing for the same thing you want: peace.

“My uncle would praise your tea-making skills,” A small corner of his mouth lifts up. Your eyes track the movement for a small second before you are staring down at his cup, too. 

“I could give you a bag to take to him to give the next time you see him,” An olive branch, maybe, in light of your previous words. 

War has its own effects on everyone, including yourself. Trusting others has not been a virtue of yours for quite some time. 

“I’m sure he would love that.” It is a brief glimpse into something about himself, you are sure, that he smiles slightly. A genuine smile. Despite the title he holds, there is nothing but humility. You tuck that observation into you heart to ponder on later.

How can the Fire Lord be so at home in this run-down mill of a home? How can he be so comfortable in the presence of a stranger; a stranger who opposes him in his objective to make peace in a way that he seeks but you do not want? 

You find yourself reaching for a stored bag of tea leaves before you can think about it.

As you hold the bag out in the palm of your right hand, your left resting in your lap, his fingers brush yours. He takes the bag and tucks it into what you assume is a pocket on the inside of his simple cloak. The warmth fades as quickly as it came, and for a moment you want to reach out for more of it. 

You stop yourself before you actually do such a ridiculous thing as reach out for the hand of the Fire Lord. 

But the feeling stays with you long after you tentatively promise to keep in touch with him as he graciously exits for the day. It stays with you for a long, long time. 

[wallwriterstuff]

Foundling ||Caius Volturi x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of neglect and absent parent

Words: 4176

Taglist: @thelastemzy​ @kpopgirlbtssvt​ @a-avaunce​ @college-is-coming​ @alecvolturiswifeforever​ @broskibowser​ @volturidoll13​ @raindancer2004​ (hopefully this actually works this time!)

Summary: A request for @like-rain-or-confetti​ 

Caius has done a lot of terrible things over the course of his life, and the one good thing he did do he was never allowed to keep. After centuries of waiting, she finally gets to confront him for all of his deeds, the good and the bad. 

Most who knew Caius knew him for his rage, but not very many understood where that rage came from. It was like a chronic disease that plagued him always, the slightest things setting his volatile mood off. No, the blonde king was a ticking time bomb and whoever came across him knew all the while to tread carefully lest they lose a limb at best, their head at worst. His reputation proceeded him, his brutality well renowned, so the Cullen’s witnesses knew better than to cross Caius when he was busy warmongering, and he most certainly had tried his best to instigate something given that the Denali had had to inhale their sister’s ashes.  

“We cannot know the child will not be dangerous!”

“Regardless they have been consorting with werewolves, our sworn enemies.”

Edward could only hold his family tight and pray for reprieve, watching Caius scrabble for any excuse to end those he held dear because of one mistake. Granted, that mistake had grown rapidly to be the very centre of his world and he would not trade his daughter for anything, but despite her lovable nature Renesmee was very much his creation and the very reason his whole family was now in danger. It was a difficult conundrum to wrap his head around and he still didn’t have all the right answers but he had people on his side to support him, and for Edward that was enough. Caius didn’t relent. Marcus spared him a pitying glance, Aro’s eyes less forgiving but nonetheless understanding, and Edward caught the briefest glimpse then of everything that made Caius what he was. The root of all of his anger and hostility stemmed not from his lack of gift as so many assumed, but from a small, infant girl.

He couldn’t quite contain his surprise. Aro was very good at controlling his thoughts around him but this one had slipped free. Caius looked so much softer in this memory, all of his rough edges filed away. For once, his eyes were not filled with hate and fire but wonder and trepidation, a bit of fear perhaps. Edward recognised those eyes immediately even if he didn’t understand how he had found them in Caius’s face of all people, because those were the eyes he had looked at Renesmee with when he pulled her free of his mate’s womb. It was the doting, adoring expression of a father who held his world in the centre of his palm. Caius was not voting to kill Renesmee out of fear for their species, but out of centuries worth of spite, spite that Edward had what he could not.

He had given up his daughter.

Caius was the first to leave the battlefield, his jaw twitching as he fought the urge to snarl, and even Athenodora didn’t dare follow him for a while. For those who knew him best they were able to feel the hurt radiating beneath all that rage, and for the weeks that followed even their own guard members felt unsafe in his presence. Demetri and Felix had caught one of the lower guard sneaking from the castle, his hand freshly reattached – Aro had let him go when he saw why the younger vampire had wanted to flee. Even Jane had been a little ashen once when she returned from the dungeons with him, Caius looking no more satisfied than he had when he went in while she all but collapsed in her brother’s embrace. As the weeks dragged to months, Aro couldn’t help but think it was time to do something. Caius had spent more time locked in the tower the week previous than he had with them, seeking comfort from his mate. It gave them plenty of time to talk.

“It has been centuries Aro, the man deserves peace.”

“I had thought time would heal this wound, that for the sake of Athenodora he might have moved on.”

“The love of a father is far stronger than the forces of time.”

So Demetri became the first of the guard to know of this well-kept secret the very next day. His shock was quite obvious, his curiosity to, but he knew better than to ask questions as Aro described the girl, thought of the infant she had been when they last saw her, and gave him all the information he might need to grasp her tenor.

“I trust your discretion can be counted on, dear boy?” Aro asked. Demetri had nodded once, then turned and left without so much as a goodbye to the others. The tenor was warm and vibrant, something he could easily get lost in. Demetri only paused in his searching to hunt here and there, rest briefly in a few hotels while he washed and traced the tenor in the forefront of his mind more thoroughly, but his feet carried him swiftly out of Italy and into Germany, through Eastern Europe and into Asia. He was surrounded by the colours and aromas of cultures he had not seen for a few decades. Usually Asia was quiet, the peoples having so many myths, legends and folklore that it was easy for a nomad to blend in, their slip ups often cleaned up by the humans that recognised the demonic nature of the mysterious deaths they left behind and tried to rectify the situation through prayer and ritual. It served as a better warning they were attracting too much attention than any Volturi visit could – they had trained the humans well in this regard.

Demetri finally stopped alongside a high rise building in Yokohama, Japan. The city was the second most populated in Japan, a good place to hunt and hide for a hybrid he was sure. The tenor was brightest here, many floors above him, and Demetri pondered exactly how best to go about engaging with his target for a moment. He could sneak into the building and into her apartment but he didn’t want to startle the poor girl, especially not since he had no clue whether or not she was gifted – he didn’t fancy getting his ass lit on fire to find out. He could always wait to see if she emerged, follow her from a distance, though that was another sure way to startle her if she caught him. Peeling away from the wall, he seamlessly blended into the human traffic on the pathway, pulling his phone from his pocket to search for a hotel as he walked along. He would withdraw for now, ‘bump’ into her on the street as a random passer-by and hope his obvious vampirism was enough to make her approach him.

It took her less than 24 hours to move and, dressed down in some casual clothes, he set out to follow her. Eyes covered by irritating contacts, he made his way through the Sankeien Gardens, following discretely as she took a leisurely stroll across the acres of land dotted with colourful spring blossoms and buildings older than most of the humans wondering the place. She seemed quite content to take her time, lifting her phone to take pictures here and there of flowers and views she liked. Demetri played the part of the awed tourist well, trailing her for an hour and a half before they seemed to have looped the entire expanse of the Gardens and ended up back at the pond they had walked around at the start. She sat herself on a bench, staring out over the water with mystifying blue eyes. She still stood out from the others around her though, her posture a little too straight, hands folded neatly in her lap, a child of her time out of place amongst modern mortals.

“You would look far less suspicious if you took a seat.” He had no doubt that she was talking to him. Lips twitching into a smirk, he did exactly as she asked. Hands in his pockets, he sat beside her on the bench, his eyes fixed on the pond before them. The shock of white-blonde hair on her head was almost proof enough she was Caius’s daughter, but he still had to check.

“The sakura blossoms make for a beautiful view, Carina.” He said. She visibly stiffened, her fast-fluttering heart pounding strongly in his ears. She had that vampiric twinge to her scent, something overly sweet that marked her as vampire and tangled nicely with the deliciously human side of her, much like Rensemee.

“Volturi.” She hissed quietly.

Demetri chuckled wryly. “So, my reputation proceeds me.”

“I have not been known by that name for many centuries. Only one coven would still recall it.” She griped, fists clenching a little in her lap. Demetri glanced at her then, taking in the sharp cheekbones and square jawline that he saw often in his Master’s face. The glare she wore was vicious.

“Do not make me use violence in a place as beautiful as this princess.” He threatened idly, gaze returning to the water as powerful lights threw beams across the surface, making it glimmer darkly. The sun had disappeared long ago or he wouldn’t have been out to follow her, the overcast day turning more quickly into night-time.

“So that is all, is it? I am to be hauled away from my home without negotiation or warning on the whim of a madman?” she sniffed. Demetri looked at her curiously.

“You speak ill of a man whom you barely know.” He mused.

“I know enough.” She retorted sharply, her eyes meeting his. The piercing blue made his curious mind race – because Athenodora could not be her mother so who had given her those eyes? – but he kept his expression cool and collected. Demetri stood to offer her a hand, one she eyed with distaste and distrust. He had no ill-intentions, but a little charm never hurt, especially not when he wanted to get his way with as little effort expended as possible.

“My contacts will not last forever, I will need to go somewhere more private to change them if we are to make the most of this evening before we depart.” He informed her. Her eyebrow arched high, her expression one of disbelief.

“What, pray tell, do you think we would be doing this evening?” she questioned. He smirked.

“It has been quite a while since I visited Japan, even then my last trip was to Tokyo. This is your city princess, show me why I should let you stay.” He invited. She scoffed.

“We both know your orders would not allow for such a thing…does your silver tongue work most other times?” she wondered, slipping her hand in his and letting him pull her up. He blinked in surprise as she dusted off the backs of her jeans. Most women took to his charm easily, but apparently Carina was as stubborn as her father.

“I…” he paused, wondering how to make her change her mind. She smirked, head shaking and sending silken sheets of straight blonde hair over her shoulder.

“It appears to be broken entirely now, I would get that checked this evening while I pack a few essentials, if I were you.” She was already moving away by the time his brain caught up, and despite her obvious disdain for the idea, she was packed and ready to acquiesce his escort to Volterra. For all her stubbornness however not even she could fight off the physical needs her mortality demanded, and Demetri found himself standing watch over the would-be Princess as she slept in a hotel in Florence. The even rise and fall of her chest gave him a pattern for his thoughts to echo, an endless ebbing and flowing of questions he couldn’t find answers to. Carina had not been forthcoming in giving any and he somehow doubted that the Masters’ would be either. She was clearly displeased to be here, her sleep interrupted several times and a small frown creasing her brow for most of the night. It was an expression he only saw when she was unconscious and let her guard down.

She woke to an unconscious man in their penthouse living space, the corpse of his wife already lay atop the glass coffee table while Demetri sat with an ankle resting on the opposite knee, newspaper in hand. With an ungracious snort, she dragged her prey back into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her for good measure, only opening it to toss the body out once it was drained for him to deal with. Demetri’s eyes rolled a little. He wondered if Caius knew his hybrid daughter was an eternally dramatic, angsty teenager, and questioned if putting them in the same room together was a good idea. It was bound to be like watching two fireballs collide. Trusting her not to run while he was away, he left via the balcony to dispose of their meals while she got ready for the day.

He returned to find her with her bag by the door, looking smarter than he had seen her during their travels back to Italy.

“How unusually refined.” He commented, stooping to swing her bag onto his shoulder. She scoffed.

“You are planning on offering me up like a pig on a platter like a good little toy soldier are you not?” she retorted icily, “I best look the part lest your silver tongue not be the only thing about you broken.” Demetri frowned slightly, watching her carefully as they played the part of happy couple departing their hotel suite. Gianna had sent a car, something with air conditioning and plush leather so they wouldn’t have to exhaust themselves with another run. For most of the drive the radio played quietly between them, her eyes concealed behind sunglasses and staring out over the luxurious rolling hills and fields of vibrant green. When he was certain there was not too long of the journey left, and therefore not enough time for her to throw him out of the car and turn it around, he finally broke his silence.

“You seem to believe the worst of your father.”

She heaved a weary sigh. “His reputation proceeds him.”

Demetri kept his eyes on the road, weighing his words carefully. He had been a member of the guard long enough to know Caius’s behaviour was not unusual, and he had been in the higher guard long enough to hear snippets of conversation amongst the wives, amongst the Masters’. Seeing the confrontation with the Cullen’s and sitting in a car with her now it was quite obvious to him the source of his Master’s vexation.

“And if his words and actions were fuelled not by anger, but grief?” he questioned, voice quiet. She showed no outward sign of having heard him but the most minute clenching of her jaw was enough to prove to him he had given her food for thought, and with that they lapsed back into silence. It was not entirely pleasant, and the air between them stagnated long after they entered Volterra. She kept her head held high, her expression aloof. It was obvious to Demetri how alike they were now – they both were grieving and wore their pain like armour. He paused only briefly at the doors, just enough time for her to steel herself with a sharp inhale, and then he opened the doors. She lingered behind him as he strode forward, bowing slightly and glancing among his Masters’. Aro waved him away without fanfare, his eyes fixed on the young girl behind him. She stood just a little taller than Jane, petite and lithe much like her father.

Caius seemed absolutely rooted to the spot, his nostrils flaring as he took in deep lungful’s of air that was rapidly becoming saturated with her scent, the scent he had inhaled like an addict off a baby blanket till it ran dry. Aro drifted down the steps to meet her, Caius’s fingernail’s scraping the wooden armrests of his throne as he struggled to keep a myriad of emotions off of his face.

“Dear Carina, how good it is to see you home.” He sighed, extending a hand toward her. She stared at it in disgust.

“If I recall you were the one who ordered me sent away in the first place. I did not return for you, so let us be done with this charade father.” She stepped around Aro gracefully, leaving him quite obviously dumbfounded and irritated, his hand slowly falling back to his side. Caius shot to his feet like he was ready to flee, but he remained stock still as Alec warily drifted closer to him, palms turned out and ready to defend his Master at all costs. The sight of him and Jane drifting to his side seemed to enrage her.

“Carina…”

“Do not dare call me that name!” she snarled, “How long did it take you to replace me?” she cast a filthy look in Jane’s direction and the young girl growled quietly in response. Demetri almost flinched.

“They were Aro’s acquisition, not mine.” He retorted. There was absolutely no bite in his tone, all his bluster gone despite his rigid stance. Caius looked more powerless than ever as she folded her arms, staring at him expectantly. She had worn a short-sleeved dress for the occasion and her skin shimmered faintly in the light drizzling in through high windows. The tension was palpable.

“Leave us, dear ones.” Aro ordered. Demetri hesitated, frowning slightly, and he could see Alec and Jane’s obvious reluctance to leave to. Another firm order got them moving however, and Carina glanced back at him with agonised eyes. Demetri paused, searching her face and finding nothing more than a terrified young girl who didn’t want to face a father she knew nothing about by herself. He gave her the slightest of nods, a small and encouraging smile twitching up his lips. They were barely out of the throne room when the shouting began, and it lasted for hours. Nowhere in the castle was exempt from the noise and it quickly spread like wildfire that Caius’s daughter had returned, and she had quite the mouth on her.

“So you refuse to even see me now?” Caius demanded. If his voice had wavered nobody was so idiotic as to comment on it. Fists clenched, she trembled with rage.

“Tell me what there is to see but a petrified old man who let centuries pass before he decided to step up as a father!” her words were precise and cut deeply.

“I thought of you daily!”

“Do not attach thoughts of me to the atrocities you have committed!” she spat. Caius had faltered at that. For hours she had done nothing but scream about what a monster he was, about the things she had heard he had done. He sank slowly to the steps leading to his throne, unable to meet her eyes anymore. His grip was so tight the marble crumbled beneath his hands and he was left grasping at air.

“I…I wanted this world to be made safe for you…I…I tried to do right by you…”his upper lip curled back over his teeth, his expression a mask of rage it had taken centuries to perfect, one that concealed an unimaginable amount of agony.

“Do right by me?” she asked incredulously, “You abandoned me! I grew up without you, with no caretaker who ever understood me, shunned from one place to the next because you had seen fit to throw me away! My own father could not bear to raise the freak he had created.” Caius’s head snapped up and for the first time in centuries, he took a deep breath. He tried his best to quell the rage that simmered in his core, to shove aside the guilt and the grief. His daughter matched him like for like. She was his reflection, a carbon copy of his rage, and fighting fire with fire was not going to work. He was finally defeated.

“My war against the Children of the Moon led me to your door. I watched, as the filthy beast stared through the window…stared at you…you slept so peacefully, entirely unaware that the coven I had tasked with protecting you had failed…when I, when I returned to glimpse you one more time you – you were already gone.” The mere memory pained him, shamed him. The Irish had moved on so fast he hadn’t even been able to track them, their scent confused amongst the stink of wolves. Carina swallowed.

“Why? Why not visit me?” she demanded. Caius remained silent. What could he say? “Answer me! You owe me this! I always wandered where you were, why you let me go so easily! You owe me these answers.” Caius could only stare at her. She had grown since he held her last, no longer able to fit in the palm of his hand. She was the size of a sixteen-year old with a mind a millenia older, capable of recalling every wrong doing and forming opinions on the level of injustice each one carried.

“You have your mother’s eyes.” He blurted. It was all he could think to say, but it stopped the conversation dead. The silence rang around them, deafening in the wake of their previous screaming match. What were they doing? Their sweet reunion sullied by such foul words…

“Who…who was my mother?” she asked hesitantly. Caius sucked in a breath.

“A peasant girl,” he confessed quietly, “One Athenodora took a liking to and insist we…play with, for a while.” His voice echoed back to him off of the walls, Carina’s flinch something he didn’t miss. She nodded slowly.

“So, I was not even born of love.” She whispered.

“Perhaps not, but that did not mean I did not love you, the moment I held you in my arms…you were so small, so fragile for this world…how could I keep you when our enemies lingered at our door? You had to be safe, and safe was…was far away from me.” He swallowed, unable to look at her anymore. He was surprised when she shuffled towards the steps, keeping a few feet between them but sitting beside him nonetheless. Even with the distance he could still feel her heat, her temperature radiating from her like he was sat by an open flame. Another prolonged silence prevailed between them once more, and Caius wasn’t sure how to chase it away. How did he own up to centuries of ignorance? Of wrong-doing? How did he make any of this better?

Carina sighed heavily. “We have really made a mess of this.”

He looked to her in surprise, his shoulders sagging slightly in defeat.

“We have,” he agreed quietly, “But I should very much like to fix it, if you will permit me to try.” Carina quietly contemplated what that might look like for them for a moment, trying to imagine a world where her father was in her life. It had been so long and she had grown up without him…it was difficult to imagine where Caius might fit.

“I don’t need a father. I have grown out of the need for one.” Carina said quietly. Caius snapped his gaze away, a stiff nod all the acknowledgment she received. What had he expected really? A happy reunion?

“I see.” He murmured, pushing to his feet. Demetri had left her bag by the door and he was quite sure she would have no trouble picking it up on the way out.

“I do need a friend,” she spoke up, making his head turn, “I am especially in want of one who might know more about where I came from, if you could point me in the right direction.” Caius swallowed, not quite able to believe his ears. A slow smile twitched his lips upwards.

“I believe I may be able to assist you.” He agreed. Carina gave him a weak smile in reply, and Caius silently vowed it would be the first of many she gave him.

“I shall find accommodation then.” She decided. Caius immediately shook his head.

“Not at all. You may have a room here, you are welcome to one.” He said hastily. He would not lose her so soon after he had found her once more. Carina’s eyebrows rose.

“Will Demetri be nearby?” she asked innocently. Caius couldn’t help the scowl that wormed its way onto his face.

“And why does the location of his quarters matter?” he retorted. Carina grinned impishly.

“Because the pretty boy is not as clever as he likes to think he is and I did, admittedly, enjoy tormenting him on the journey here.” She confessed freely. Caius tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, oh she was his daughter alright.

“Something might be arranged.” He agreed.

“Wonderful.”

“If he is not cursing you within a week of your stay I will class your mission as a failure.”

“I will have him begging you to move him elsewhere I assure you.”

“Excellent.”