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highladyluck · 4 years

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So I lied, the follow-up to this post about why Mat is so good at spotting Grey Men is not an essay, it’s a little 2K+ word Mat/Tuon ficlet. Mild innuendo, lots of humor, tooth-hurtingly fluffy.

Mat woke with a start when something soft hit his rump, on the side opposite his once-broken leg. A lone pillow- probably the culprit, he realized muzzily- slid to the floor with his motion. "Hey!" he protested. "I don't sneak attack your right flank."

Tuon's voice came from very nearby. She probably had another pillow waiting. "That is because I don't sleep in when there is work to be done. And don't lie. You have in fact 'sneak attacked my right flank'. Last night, as I recall."

"That wasn't a sneak attack! You knew it was coming, because I know better than to lay hands on the Daughter of the Nine Moons- fine, the Empress!- without permission. Besides, I am an honorable man. I only sneak attack my enemies." He turned suddenly and lunged in her direction, intending to disarm her, or more likely just make it clear that he knew she was armed. Sure enough, she was seated fully dressed at the edge of the bed, the pillow disappearing behind her. Oh well. At least he caught her at it this time. She had no call to look like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth.

"And what's this about work? I wasn't aware I had anything specific to do today," he said, eyeing the imprisoned pillow and calculating angles. Actually... that was odd, he usually had routine military matters and audiences. But Tuon had specifically told him last night that she'd postponed his usual weekly duties. He'd felt his luck running high and it had seemed like nothing more than a typical lucky break at the time. But he should have looked that gift horse in the mouth. Why hadn't he? Oh, right.

He felt his face grow hot, remembering, and he turned away to start looking for a clean shirt. It was embarrassing that her counter-intelligence operation had apparently worked so well. He really needed to keep a clearer head in the future. Not that it was at all easy when Tuon was involved.

Tuon sighed loudly enough to be audible over the sounds of his intense focus on pulling on breeches and wrangling with buttons and buckles. Still, he took his time and didn't turn around to face her until he was completely presentable. Even the tell-tale impatient fingernail tapping didn't speed up the process of chosing his eyepatch for the day. Besides, if she wanted him to choose faster she ought to tell him what he was supposed to be dressing for.

When he finally looked back at her, Tuon was seated at the small table in their room and staring at him sternly over her steaming cup of kaf. "Knotai, I have cleared your schedule this week for the training. You cannot keep putting this off. It is a matter of Imperial security."

Light, not this again! Mat lined up the usual arguments with half his mind while the rest of it tried to come up with a convenient emergency to distract her. Non-lethal, for preference, not least because a lethal one would just prove her point. "But the Dark One's prison has been sealed! We won the Last Battle. Who's going to send Grey Men after you now? All the darkfriends are probably running around like chickens with their heads cut off. They're not going to be organizing assassination attempts, and it's not like Grey Men make decisions by themselves." They couldn't, could they? Surely they were just like little clockwork husks that someone else wound up and let go.

"And as I have told you before, you cannot assume that all the Atha'an Shadar will be incapacitated by our victory. They will likely just be more desperate. You yourself saw that the Trollocs would overrun us regardless of the Dragon Reborn's victory if we did not oppose them on the field. The danger is not over." She paused and looked him in the eye. "And I know we would both like to keep the Deathwatch Guard from a third embarrassment, especially one that is entirely preventable. Your skills are formidable, and there is no one else to teach them."

Hoist by his own petard. Burn the woman, but she was good at this. Mat would have admired it even more if it were someone else's levers she were so deftly pulling, though. If Grey Men attacked her a third time, she would probably find a way to pardon the Deathwatch again- she didn't really believe it was their fault that they kept failing to spot these specific Shadowspawn- but then the odds were good the blame would fall on him instead, and so saving her life again would just get him deeper in the soup somehow. It was just not fair.

The worst part was, he actually did agree with her about the danger. There probably were pockets of darkfriends still out there, and they did so love to send Grey Men after the Empress of Seanchan. All Mat got were run-of-the-mill street toughs jumping out of dark alleys at him. Well, and the gholam- and the flaming snakes and foxes- and apparently bloody flaming evil mist monsters out of his fragmented nightmares- but mostly just regular street toughs and darkfriends, on the whole. He supposed the Empress of Seanchan rated a higher caliber of footpad. Just one of the many downsides of nobility.

"Look, Tuon. I don't even know how I do it!" He scrubbed a hand through his hair and glanced at the box of eyepatches. Tuon followed his gaze. "For all I know, maybe you can only spot them with one eye." It was probably actually because of his luck, but that did him no bloody good if Tuon was convinced it was something that could be learned. He'd have to think of something else that would be remotely convincing and take all week to pull off.

"Then perhaps they will all wear eyepatches for your lessons. Let the quartermaster know if you need to requisition more." Her eyes twinkled in triumph. "You may have any tools you need for this, assuming the Ever Victorious Army or the Empire has access to them."

"Hah," Mat replied drily. "If I did this- and this is not me agreeing to do it!- who's going to find us an actual Grey Man to practice on? And are you volunteering to be part of the demonstration?"

"You will have to find an actual Grey Man, if you think it is necessary. You do have a week. And would you *want* me to be part of the demonstration?" Tuon raised an eyebrow.

He certainly did not, but he wasn't going to tell her that. "If I'm going to catch a Grey Man- which I have not at all promised to do!- I'd need bait, and they don't seem to care about me." He didn't have high hopes for this gambit, but it was worth a shot.

Tuon frowned at his words. "That is not true at all, Knotai. Three or four of them set upon you in the command tent. That time, they were not interested in me, except when I came to your aid. And I was the one who had to be carried out of the tent in the end." She looked rather put out at the memory, full lips pursing in displeasure. She did not like admitting weakness. Well, no one did, but her least of all.

And Mat did not like thinking about how close he'd come to losing her that day, either. Burn it, there was no way he'd actually find a Grey Man or practice with it if he did, but it wouldn't hurt to have better security. He'd come up with something, maybe drills dredged up from the battle memories if he got desperate. She wouldn't let him back out now anyway. "Maybe you should attend. Not as bait, but as a student. If I can actually teach people how to do it- which I'm not saying I can, mind you- I'd prefer you to be there to learn along with everyone else. Or if not you, at least Selucia, if you can spare her."

Tuon's expression softened. "I may not be able to spare the time- or Selucia- during the day this week. But if you have something you want to show me, specifically, I will make time in the evening. This would serve the same purpose as my martial arts practice, so I can substitute your lesson for doing the forms that day."

Mat grinned. "I'll make it worth your while."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Don't get used to interrupting my forms. This is a special privilege."

Light's own truth, he tried not to smirk at the phrase and the memory, but she must have seen it in his face anyway, because she sighed and waved him away. "You are a menace to decency and decorum, Matrim Cauthon, and I despair of you."

"Awww, I appreciate you, too."

***

Later that week he arranged to meet Tuon in the garden, the same place they'd encountered the first Grey Man. It seemed fitting. Not one to waste time, she had already started on the graceful, dance-like movements she used in hand-to-hand combat by the time he arrived. He stepped silently into the circle of lamplight, blocking part of the blue light with his body, and she turned suddenly to face him directly before opening her eyes. "You're late."

"I figured you would want to get a little form practice in before we started. Though actually, we've already started." She raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. "How did you know I was there?" he asked.

"The quality of the light changed, so I reacted to it. And I was expecting you."

Mat nodded. "That's basically the trick, I think. Each time I've spotted the Grey Men, it's because there was some movement in the background that I noticed while looking at y-at something else, and it made me expect a threat. It's tricky because the rest of my brain is telling me they're nothing to worry about, but it's like my hands know what to do. I guess I just react on instinct and my thoughts catch up later."

To his surprise, Tuon started giggling. Mat was a little offended by this. "You asked for this information! I'm trying my best to explain!"

"I know," she said, biting her lip and regaining self-control. "I just can't believe that your 'act first, think second' philosophy is now part of the secret military traditions of the Deathwatch Guards. You are going to be the ruin of a thousand years of discipline. But while it's unorthodox, I can't deny that it has been effective."

Mat felt himself relax. "You're always paying attention to your surroundings and looking for omens, so I don't think noticing odd things will be hard for you. But the reacting without thinking might."

"I can practice different strategies for different situations. I am not as inflexible as you seem to think I am," Tuon said, a bit of heat in her voice. Mat raised his hands to fend it off. "Besides," she drawled, "I think I must also reevaluate other aspects of your behavior. It has not escaped my notice that you are often looking at me when you should be paying attention to court matters." Mat froze, his heart pounding like the wings of a startled bird. "But it seems you are just very attentive to my safety, and so perhaps you should be granted leniency."

"What?"

"I know you consider yourself unusually lucky, and I had wondered if that was one reason you were so good at spotting the unnatural assassins. But since you think the skill can be taught, apparently the true secret to your remarkable success is that you've just happened to be looking at me every time one shows up. If luck has nothing to do with it, I have to conclude that you are just constantly staring at me."

Mat had no idea how to respond to that, so he didn't. Tuon smiled at him in pure satisfaction, like a cat that had just proudly dropped a bird at your feet. "But of course, this is just good security! So I suppose I will have to practice by keeping a similar eye on you."

"I- I suppose you will, at that." He was never, ever going to to stop being surprised by her. But the surprises weren't all bad. Light, they were not.

#mat/tuon #Wheel of Time #wheel of time fanfic #tuon paendrag #problematic fave tuon #mat cauthon #guys I'm really proud of myself

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the-crows-typist · 4 years

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Hello, Lemilia! How are you? Since you'll be closing your requests today, I'm going to send in one more request and give all of the Diasomnia boys their share of platonic affection. So, I would like to request platonic Sebek x gnMC headcanons with the prompt word- training/sparing (by this I mean that the MC knows a style not found in T. W. like Capoeira for example & they agreed to teach each other bits of their fighting styles for fun). Have a nice day & good luck! - Kat

Oh, Capoeira is such an interesting martial arts style! I just hope I wrote the movements correctly here as I, myself, am not an expert in the craft. If there are any corrections that need to be made, please do tell me immediately!

Let Your Dreams Come Alive

“Please teach me all that you can!”

The sword had always been Sebek’s go-to in combat related encounters. It was easy to carry around and even easier drawing it out to protect the heir apparent to the Valley of Thorns. The strong stances, the wind guiding slices and strong jabs built him to the person he became now.

An esteemed guard of the Prince and Commander Vanrouge’s second star pupil.

But in his line of duty, he was taught that the sword is not the only weapon to depend on. Worse comes to worse, the body is the only weapon you can depend on.

He learned this the hard way during one of his shifts, when an assassin had knocked his sword of out his hands and he had nothing to protect him from the oncoming attack.

Until his friend, his classmate, his fellow guard-at-arms came to his rescue, all without a weapon to help them.

The movements you made, the quick use of your legs, the fluidity of your body as if you were dancing, it was nothing like he’s ever seen before. The last kick send the assassin to the wall and the prefect on the flood, legs spread and ready to attack should their opponent get back up.

When you pulled Sebek up, he was at awe, and just like when they were still in school they myriad of questions left his lips. “What move set was that? How are you so nimble? Those spinning kicks! How are you able to move so fast?”

You laughed at his eagerness, even commenting how he hasn’t changed over the years and still as vibrant as he was in their first year in highs school.

“This style is not from here but from my own world.” You began. “Developed by slaves in a country they were put into. Very heavy stuff.” Your eyes were dark for a moment, the origin of a style was heavy, something Sebek understood.

“I almost thought you were dancing.” You nodded their head at this, smiling brightly “It’s a martial arts style that combines dance, acrobatics, kicking, and walking on hands…It’s a mix of everything, really.”

“Teach me.”

The first few days of the training was harsh on Sebek’s body, he wasn’t very flexible to begin with and the exercises were enough to get him out of breath. “If you can’t handle it, we can stop.” The prefect said, pulling Sebek up from the training mat.

“No.” He says, swaying a bit. “I want to learn. Teach me all that you can.”

At the end of the day, Sebek was exhausted and barely able to move. His friends, his classmate had to pull him up with the help of Lilia. He teased him all the way to his room until he was settled into bed.

“I think you went too far for your first day.” You say, letting him get settled on his bed and wiping his forehead with his arm. “It’s a tough style and requires a lot of movement but you don’t need to push yourself. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.”

“Rome?”

“It’s a saying.” You took a towel and planted it on his face, smiling when he made a sound beneath the damp cloth. “It means great things take time to create, to build. When I was still learning, I could barely lift my feet high enough, I couldn’t spin properly…Heck, I couldn’t even do a simple hand stand, let alone walk on my hands.”

“You don’t become an expert at things over night, things take time.” You patted his knee and stood up, getting some water for him to drink as he pushed himself off his bed. “I was just as frustrated as you when I was still learning but…It’s thanks to my teachers that I learned to be patient. I don’t consider myself a professional but…” You hand him the glass. “It’s thanks to them that I know about it.”

Sebek drank from the cup. “They must be very proud of the craft.”

“They are. It’s part of their identity. I’m happy that somehow, I was able to share their knowledge to a different world. I’ll be sure to tell them when I find a way back home.” You raised a their fist to Sebek.

Here’s to the start of your training, Sebek.”

The both of you bumped your fists together.

“I’ll do my best, teacher.”

#works from the typewriter #twsited wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt x gender neutral reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #twst sebek #sebek headcanons #platonic x reader

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changelingvixen · 4 years

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Some chess themed world stuff, IDK, incoherent and unfinished

“Tithes for the king! Tithes for the king! The Holy Duty calls!”

The crier was not the Bishop herself of course, this was just a sub-priest, one of the many strata beneath the Holy Lady herself, two steps from martyrdom for the royal family’s sake. No, the Bishop Herself was only seen on the holiest of days. This was just a tithe calling.

This was not the slums proper. This was the entrance to the slums where the merely poor lived, not the cursed or fallen. Every face was fully human, largely clean and sentient. The houses were crammed together, cheap stone falling apart, but the stench was merely rotten vegetables, smoke and muck, the normal scent of background life. These people were accepted, if not welcomed, in the eyes of the White Queen.

A young woman, face so full of innocence it struck the Knight in her chest for a moment, opened her mouth, made to step forward. Something about her demeanor – her softness – her beauty, brown eyes and hair and skin – made the Knight bite her lip, and instead pass her her own token, a White Rose. The woman’s eyes widened, and she gazed up at the Knight, who smiled.

“To the guard at 9,” she said. “He will bring you to me.”

A night with the Knight was worth nowhere near as much as with the king, in repayment, but on the other hand the pleasure was plentiful. It was no Holy Duty, but it was joyful, and there was still monetary compensation. The woman’s ragged dress would be replaced with a finer one and she would eat well for a year or two.

The compensation for offering one’s self as tithe in the Holy Duty was high, but only given, of course, if the tithe survived.

The Knight realised a moment later the woman would probably not have been chosen, anyway. The current vogue in theological circles was that the tithe should match the king’s own looks – or, at least, as more honest courtiers would say – his apparent complexion. Even that was fraught with its issues, for who else but the royal line had that pearlescent hair? Silver eyes, at least, were common enough, as was that strange angular cut of bone and jaw the Royal Line had possessed before its degeneration, and indeed, the three chosen tithes matched that physical profile well enough. They all had the same expression – determined, desperate, afraid. They always did.

If they survived they were Compelled never to speak of what the Holy Duty comprised. They had their lives and most of their limbs and wealth beyond imagining and besides, what good would it do them? If the king died without issue, they would all die, for the face of the White Queen herself would have turned from them for good.

The Knight knew what happened. The Knight had seen the times the king preferred animals to women and what came of them. These women were not the sort to survive. She turned her face from them.

The Queen was watching from her balcony, she knew. From the top of the panopticon she could see the whole city as she stood alone, her veil blowing like a pennant behind her. She could feel her eyes, even from here. Beautiful, bored, limpid. She would creep up behind the Knight after day-long banquets when the old speeches from the old retainers were over and whisper into her ear,

“Tell me your name, Knight. Be mine. Take me from here.”

And the Knight would smile without meaning at the Queen’s pale face, taut with lust and fear, and whisper, “I am the Knight, madam.”

“I will tell you mine,” the Queen would press. “I will make you mine. I will give you myself. None but he has touched me.” She flinched as she said it. The Knight knew the Queen was protected when her breeding days were allotted but even so, it was a horror. A Holy Duty and a hell.

“Sleep well, madam,” the Knight would say, her hands carefully behind her back, and bow, and leave. Her words were as familiar as the Rote Of The Light or The Chiding Of The Seven Bells, heard after every seventh course, the Pawn’s intonation solemn, the meaning long forgotten but the rite of its recitation inescapable, unimaginable to change. Perhaps it was the loss of meaning that was causing their decline, the Knight thought. But perhaps not.

She never knew if the Rook was listening. Sometimes he would flit out of sight in the corner of her eye. Who knew to whom the Rook paid allegiance? He alone in the Court spoke to his opposite, for who could punish or fathom a Rook? He would not find his entrails wound around the castle buttresses for speaking to the Black Rook – they had their own place, the Rooks, between the two lands, where they met and whispered and who knew what?

The Knight closed her eyes, thinking that, somewhere, there was a Black Knight, perhaps doing this self-same act, trailing the long passages of her castle, training in her martial arts, listening and waiting, the endless waiting for the war to begin again, when the Ladies Above spoke it so, when their game began again. Except the Black Knight’s kingdom wasn’t dying.

---

The library was quiet and heavy-aired, tall lonely pillars and endless dark bookcases sweeping into the domed ceilings. The velvet carpets were heavy with must. Neat square tables were empty, the chairs pushed up to the edges. The marble fountain, carved nymphs and flowers in diamond and moonstone, sprayed its dancing drops in silence. Dusty light hit motes in the air.

The Bishop locked the heavy stone door behind her to prevent another entering – as if they would. Still. Better to be safe. She tucked the key away in some inner pocket of her robe.

Welcome, said the spirit of the library to the Bishop. It has been so long. I am so lonely. I know a thousand lives, I know wisdom and lies beyond imagining, but I am alone. So hungry.

The air around the Bishop throbbed hot, warming her emaciated cheeks.

Beautiful, the spirit whispered. The Bishop gently pushed the air away. It fluttered like old pages, musty and papery.

“No,” she said. It didn’t recede, it edged under her robe, stroking her legs, edging from ankle to calf to knee and pausing.

A thousand thousand years. I need companionship.

The Bishop strode up to a shelf, running a languid bone-thin finger along a book’s spine. The spirit groaned softly. Everything else was absolutely still.

“People are afraid of that which they don’t know or believe they do know,” said the Bishop. She enjoyed a conversation, and it was true, the library had been closed for endless years. Time flowed differently in the presence of so many books. Perhaps, to the library, it had been a thousand years. Close to, frondy moss was growing through the ancient oak of the bookcases, curling around the section markers, glowing faintly.

If you run, I shall chase you, said the spirit. My corridors are labyrinths to you. I am the maze and the monster. Just a night, one day and one night with you. Do not leave me. I will allow you safe passage then. To what you seek. I could trap and keep you else. Hold you close to me forever. But where is the joy in that? Its tone was becoming desperate. Give me this honour and kindness. Soothe my pain. I have been alone for so long.

“I am a holy woman,” the Bishop said, her cheeks flushing as the warm air grasped at her again, twining around her limbs. “I belong to the White Queen, the Lady Above.”

Belong to me, for one day and one night, madam Bishop, the library breathed. Your Lady will forgive. I am so alone. You may have all my wisdom and my words. Any written tale. Tell me your desires and salve mine. Bathe in my fountain, lay yourself down for me. How I ache. I will write your answers upon your skin and bones if you give yourself to me.

“My Lady will guide me free,” said the Bishop, “If I need her to. I seek a treatise.”

The library was silent. The Bishop cocked her head. Somewhere, woodworm gnawed through a shelf, the sound scratchy in her ears.

The Bishop took a step forward.

---

The Knight knew a woman in the Old Market. She traded as a fortune teller but to those who knew, she was a true mystic.

The Old Market was crammed edge to edge with stalls of a thousand different kinds, reeking with the scents of greasy street food, sweat, incense, smoke and metal. Rickety houses and shops boughed over the street like branches; detritus crunched under her feet as people jostled and gossiped and pickpocketed each other. Things jibbered in cages. Scrappy children shrieked and shoved, clutching a penny for a sweet or a firelighter. The Knight strode through the masses, sloughing them in her wake, even with a hood over her face to disguise herself, bereft of chain mail and ruff and veil and sword. Traders shouted their wares – the usual, from the bizarre to the useless to the lifesaving. One briefly caught her eye, leering at her.

“Syrup of sight, pretty lady? Guaranteed to show you the truth in any man’s face. Just right for your master or your lover…”

She turned away.

“Afraid of the truth?” jeered the salesman, waving a bottle, but she wanted more than snake oil.

Behind a fraying, jewelled curtain at the quieter end of the street, the woman sat. Her garish handwritten sales sign promised love and magic and other lies, and young women dared each other to spend a coin and enter the tent, but the Knight knew, unlike most of the other magic on offer, this woman could be convinced to speak true.

“I seek guidance, madam,” she told the curtain, which twitched.

“Enter,” said the voice within, and the Knight pushed the curtain aside, ignoring the awed whispering of the young women behind her.

The hunched old woman straightened up on seeing the Knight, and with no apparent change, her face was younger. “Ah,” she said, smiling faintly. “Madam Knight.” She fingered the deck of cards before her. “You seek something?”

“Of course,” said the Knight. She seated herself on the rickety stool opposite the woman, and pulled a pouch of gold from her cloak, passing it over with respect. The woman did not open it but simply secreted it away under her bench. “The Black Knight. Who is she?”

The mystic showed no reaction to the question, despite its heresy. “You know her by her deeds. Soldier and handmaiden. Black guardian. Palfreywoman waiting in the wings. Your own face in the mirror, Knight. Yourself in reverse. What you see in the dark. Do you seek the truth or a comforting lie?”

The Knight knew the respect was returned in that she asked. For her customers she would mostly decide for them what they received. “The truth.”

The woman passed the cards through her hands, shuffling, turning. Her dark eyes stared into nothing. The Knight breathed in the scent of patchouli and blood. At length the mystic flipped them.

“The Bloody Shrike. The Liar’s Tongue. Distant Winds Calling. The Blade That Bites True, trine with the Dark Servant. And the Light Servant in combination. Why, I believe she wishes to meet you, too.” She raised her pits of eyes to the Knight. “She is a traitor and a killer, and she believes herself right. Perhaps you have a lot in common. I wonder what I would see if I drew for you.” She laughed thinly.

“Similar, perhaps,” said the Knight, mildly. She wondered herself, for a moment. “Have you ever drawn for your own amusement perhaps? Of the Court?”

The mystic laughed. “What makes you think I wish to know of any of you? What I need to know, I already do. I am just a conduit to fools and hunters. What good would it do me, to know of you?”

“None at all,” said the Knight, rising. “I thank you for your time.”

“Enjoy your night with the little maiden,” said the mystic. “Do not think of those who were taken.”

“I don’t,” said the Knight. She inclined her head, and pushed the curtain aside to leave.

---

“When,” said the Knight to the Rook, “Is Carnival in the city next?”

The Rook didn’t look up. “Here or there?” He nudged a piece across the playing mat and flipped the rotating board around. His opponent’s eyes narrowed as he reached for the dice. To even be allowed play a game of complexity and chance against the Rook was an honour, and the Rook seemed to genuinely enjoy games. The nobleman couldn’t hear the Knight’s question, or even see her presence. The Rook only ever played opponents on the other side of a one-way mirrored screen, the board rotating endlessly between turns. In his ascetic game chamber, the Rook and the Knight were alone. She watched the nobleman’s face with interest. He seemed intelligent, and although he probably wouldn’t win, perhaps there would be a challenge there for the Rook.

“For interest’s sake,” said the Knight, “Both.”

“Here, the seventh day of Golden Season. There, the nineteenth of Bronze.” The Rook never explained how he knew when Carnival was arriving, here or there. The Rook never explained very much at all.

The noble’s hand hovered over a piece, and drew back. He bit his lip. There were no particular stakes this time – the reward was the game and the honour of playing - but who liked to lose?

“Thank you,” said the Knight, and bowed, because whatever else he was, the Rook was powerful and nominally on her side, at least. His hooded eyes blinked slowly and he looked up at her at last. The guttering candle in its wall bracket threw strange shadows on his dark face.

“I serve only the world,” said the Rook, expressionlessly. “I shall watch your movements well.”

What strange investiture passed from Rook to Rook, she wondered. What secret service did he provide beyond the laying out of time and the seasons, advice, sentencing, learning, teaching? Was he closer to the White Lady than even the Bishop, or furthest of all?

The nobleman’s hand moved like a snake and the board spun. The Rook tilted his head, truly birdlike. The Knight did not enjoy games, although she thought she could see the Rook’s likely move. Only at the last moment did he change from her guess to a different, subtler play, and she wondered again what went through that mind. The board spun again. The noble frowned.

“Good day, Madam Knight,” said the Rook, and she bowed again, understanding, and left.

#chess themed bs

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squirrelwrangler · 4 years

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Warpath Home

the musings about the Band of the Red Hand in the post-War period, Bân in particular, in proper fic format. The true start of the Second Age Red Band Era:

...

Bân is at a loss for what to do with himself in his second life in Valinor once the novelty of rebirth has worn off. Well, not entirely so - he knows whom he wishes for as company, and he knows which experiences he shall stringently endeavor to avoid repeating. Getting eaten alive should stay a singular experience. That particular goal is easy enough with Morgoth banished to the Timeless Void. Crossing an ice desert should also remain an experience of his first body and have no repeat adventure with his new life. He wants to spend every day with Aereth. She is amiable to this. That might be an understatement, for she has threatened to tie a ribbon around his ankle and the other end to her bedpost so that he never wanders away, and Bân thinks that she is joking but only with a percentage of certainty that allows for a sliver of doubt. His lover’s eyes when she told him this held a manic gleam that would have frightened him on any other face. It reminded Bân of the wolf that ate him - no, he banishes that thought. He is Aereth’s to command, yet she also has both hobbies and a profession outside of their boudoir. The knack for healing that she picked up in the final days of the War of Wrath still calls to her. The patients that she must treat in Valinor are far fewer and injuries less severe, caused by accident instead of malice. Her flowers have also returned to her, as he did, and Aereth loves them both. But an occupation to fill his time? That Bân lacks.

He was a soldier in Beleriand, a good one. He had been proud of the duties that he fulfilled and the people and lands he protected. His skills with a long blade are still only matched by a rare few - and of that small group of expert swordsmen, he trained one that comes closest to his equal. His knowledge is that of war, and in war and combat Bân is wise. It is his skills outside of the purview of ‘soldier’ that he lacks.

Bân has no expertise in a peacetime craft, and that should shame him. Even a daubbler’s introduction to hobbies that could form a trade or occupy his time he lacks. Finrod was king of picking up hobbies and craftsman’s skills and esoteric knowledge so that while amauter he named himself, King Finarfin’s eldest son is still accounted a master at many talents. Bân is nothing like his prince. He had crafted his interests around those skills necessary for killing orcs and protecting lives via violence. Even his simpler hobbies of physical movements and lifting weights were practice to keep muscles and joints limber. The daily exercise routines are useful for other aspects of Bân’s life - his lover certainly appreciates the end results. But Valinor has little need of more guards to man the Pelóri Mountains. Of Bân’s friends and old acquaintances, only Angell has joined a guard. Bân could join the Vanyar athletes and train for their physical competitions and festivals, but such an endeavor feels hollow to him, and Bân knows he would soon bore of it.

Other Returned Noldor face the same problems as Bân- whether to forgo all the martial skills that they had learned or try and preserve them. Gentling and controlling the actions of war is accomplished by transforming them into performance art. The riders already have, placing the mounted katas to music and renaming the battle maneuvers as dance. Bân watched a performance of these mounted dancers on invitation with the princes. Good padded seats with a pavilion to soften the sun and an excellent view of the performance. Bân has a mountain of invitations to dances and ballets and mounted exhibitions. They will not occupy all his time. But it had been pleasant to watch the riders. Kicks that once cleared the battlefield for a clean lance strike became a dancer’s flourish. It was moving and beautiful. He could not do it.

The others have options. Some like Aglar, Edrahil, and the princes have their old lives with their families and estates to return to, even if they are finding the old lives no longer exactly fit, like a garment shrunk in the washing or having been re-tailored to fit a new style. Finrod is a prince instead of king once more, though he swears the situation does not feel so different. Edrahil, oddly enough, is the one most uncomfortable, but the former steward of Nargothrond has an escape plan lined up. Edrahil is nothing if not sensibly prepared, and he has all of eternity to learn how to sail - even if it will only be a placid houseboat and a lover willing to teach him. Edrahil and Maiwë plan to impose on his family’s generous hospitality only until the hull of their new houseboat is caulked. Then they shall move out. Sooner if Edrahil’s patience expires. And the betting has already begun on how soon Prince Finrod will flee his father’s court to spend a lengthy vacation on Edrahil’s floating house. That is probably why Amarië is assisting to decorate and outfit the houseboat, knowing in advance that she will call on Edrahil and Maiwë’s hospitality.

Tacholdir has his writings and Heledir has a collaboration with Princess Findis on something much the same, if more frivolous in subject matter. Bân is no author, unless all those letters to Aereth in his previous life count, and he has no need of a pen nowadays when his beloved lives with him.

Arodreth has merrily assigned himself as personal steward and gardener for Lady Alphen. She will either throw him out of her house on his ear or finally shove him into her bed. Or perhaps both. Old Mother Swan and Old Father Bull are as constant as tides, even if nowadays it is King Arafinwë to whom Lady Alphen advises, and Arodreth has banished from his personal wardrobe both armor and - rumor says- the very concept of shirts. If the old warrior wishes to putter around a rose garden and organize the running of household tasks without tunic and wear only the most form-fitting of hose, attempting to seduce Lady Alphen with bare chest and shapely thigh, Bân will not gainsay him. Anyways, he doubts the veracity of that rumor, no matter what Consael swears. Arodreth is handsome for an elf, even if his re-embodiment has not removed the signs of wear from a long life full of strain and experience from his features, but he was never one for stylish or form-fitting clothes. The current trend in Tirion is for men to wear very snugly-fitting abbreviated garments, as simplified loose fitting gowns are trendy for women. Prince Finrod, Faron, and the half-brothers are the closest to popinjays among their cadre, and Tacholdir the only other one to closely monitor current trends. Tacholdir recently dragged a stunned and overwhelmed Faron along to the best tailor in Tirion as a fashion consultant after he received the commission for his first published manuscript, then modeled the resulting new wardrobe for everyone. Therefore Bân knows what people are wearing in Tirion, even if he does not currently reside there. Back in Beleriand - before death - Arodreth rarely wore the finery befitting his station, and in this Bân is alike, content to daily wear the loose-fitting and comfortable gambesons that he wore as armor under-padding, changing only when the garments began to reek or became damaged. Now Bân has no armor, yet he cannot drum up enthusiasm for new clothes.

That his baggy mortal-style trousers are apparently also in-fashion, at least among the daring youths of Valmar and Tirion, according to Consael, does mildly horrify Bân. In his youth, back when the Trees lived, the hip trend was secret swords and emblazoned shields, so this fancy for aping mortal appearance is at least more benign. Bân does hope that these two extremes in masculine hosiery does not become a political divide. Such tiresome squabbling would be a matter of course for the Noldor, and Bân would like to avoid such partisionship nowadays.

Still, the germ of the story, the implication that Arodreth is actively attempting to seduce Lady Alphen, is believable. Heledir is perhaps the only one of Bân’s cohort that has not initiated a courtship or is already betrothed or married. The Valar know this dance between Arodreth and Alphen has been long enough.

Aglar and his wife are expecting twins. Bân’s dearest friend, Fân, has not yet married his love, the shy yet strong Dondwen, but the two are living together in travellers’ inn that she runs, along with a boy named Brandostin. The former pugilist now innkeeper had taken in a war orphan during the aftermath of the War of Wrath, and until the boy’s parents are reborn, or by some miracle survived the war and find passage on the ships returning to Valinor, Brandostin is theirs to raise. The ring that Fân wears is still silver, and yet he finds himself already in the role of father. Of all the surprises awaiting them upon their rebirth, Fân’s wins for shock value.

Fatherhood Bân has not yet discussed with Aereth. It would certainly occupy his time, but he does not feel ready for the responsibility. He ignores Heledir’s unsubtle prompting. He knows of the secret bet. During his most snide moments, he wishes to shout at everyone, “Beren beat all of us to that accomplishment. And you may tell Dondwen that Brandostin does not count as her son at your own peril.”

Now that he thinks on the subject, Bân acknowledges that there will be fierce fighting among his friends on who gets to honor Beren by naming their child in reference to the hero.

Heledir probably has a bet running about that, too.

Bân rubs his jaw in thought, still unsettled by the lack of scar as he rubs his fingers back and forth, but the habit is too ingrained to change. He does not miss the cross-shaped scar that once marred his lower jaw, for the memories attached to it are both ugly and painful. The scar was the Soldier, and he is that no longer, yet here his hand is.

Perhaps he shall imitate Arodreth and become Aereth’s shirtless garden assistant, content to continue helping his lover tend to her flowers for the rest of eternity.

. ✿ .

Wide green eyes stare at him when he repeats this to Aereth. She giggles. “Your heart is wiser and stronger than your head, Bân. Of course you are. And you designed and built for me that cart to carry them, the irrigation pipes, new tools, you fixed that pump; you do realize all the improvements you have created for my garden? Trust me, the Ivonwin are clamoring for you. It will become a hassle, when we go to visit your parents down in Southern Aman.”

Oh. Bân begins to worry over something new.

#my fic #silm fic #Beren's Band of the Red Hand #ivonwin are the devotees of Yavanna that make lembas but i'll pretend are also holy gardeners #this was my struggle to figure out what Zack Fair's talents outside of combat were #yes a stealth AU Zerith fic but emphasis on the stealth #also the check in with what the rest of the crew is doing #please imagine Arodreth #old elf general trying his best to fulfill new life ambition of sexy pool boy

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

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Cleared for Duty - Chapter 2

Have you read chapter one?

Chap Summary: Bucky lets his temper get the better of him and things go too far in the final assessment. Dr Edwards has been holding out on the team, hiding skills that would rival Black Widow behind a pristine white lab coat.After they face off, Bucky is forced to assess himself and he’s not too happy about a realisation lurking in his subconscious.

Warnings: Continued violence, self-hatred, anguish, and language from the first chapter.

A/N: I know Edwards’ skills are extreme but I wanted to play her as a bit of a wild card and possibly throw her in a mission with Bucky later in the series. I envisioned her fighting style to be a hybrid between X-Men Mystique and Black Panther.

The Beatdown

The Doc was quick, I’ll give her that. The basic blocks were effortless for her, even when I pushed her on the strength aspect, she adapted the blocks adding twists and flicks to her movement so she was more carrying the momentum away rather than stopping it. Her motions were smooth, fluid – like water, and she was graceful. All this I noticed at the back of my mind because I was solely focused on my own movements.

The more advanced blocks had her switching her stances almost as if she was dancing, shifting her centre of gravity as needed. She was flawless and it infuriated me.

Overstepping my own balance gave her an opportunity to parry from a block where she deflected the metal arm across my body so easily it was like I was a child. She dug me sharply in the ribs just under the join between my own flesh and the arm. Of course she knew my weak points, she knew everything about me and the infernal contraption I relied upon to do my job.

I hissed at the pain that bloomed under the skin, and she smirked.

The assessment requirements didn’t state that candidates should strike if they could during the first phase but it didn’t say they couldn’t. Maybe she was showing off, maybe she did it to unnerve me. If that was the case, it worked, not that I needed any pushing down that path – ever since we met she always seemed to have me on the back foot.

We paced, breathing a little too heavily from our exertions. I’d gone harder on Edwards than any of the others. I guess maybe that’s what Steve had been worried about when he tried to switch her with Maria Hill. She acquitted herself more than adequately however. In fact, she was better than all of the other’s I’d had with maybe the exception of the huge guy.

The Doc shook out her arms before picking up the rubber knife. This was going to be interesting. I couldn’t help but wonder what she could do with a blade now having seen her undeniable prowess.

The knife looked comfortable in her hand despite her grip being too light. I’d be able to take that from her and then it’d be game over.

“Are you ready?” I asked when she stood before me again.

She bowed lightly, a respectful reflex of her martial arts training. I did the same. It was only right that we were civil, despite the burning in my veins that told me I had to take her down.

She moved her arms gracefully, legs shifting into a familiar stance I’d seen once already today.

My first assessment. The thin wiry man who’d been too eager to show off. Were the two connected? It would make sense if they were. Was I the reason he’d been so desperate to prove a point, showboating to get the better of me because he knew his girl hated my guts? Was she his girl? I couldn’t remember seeing them together but then again I tried to avoid her as much as possible, it would be easy to miss something like that.

And here she was now, in all her glory, doing for herself what her man couldn’t achieve. This was her lesson to me, to show me that I didn’t scare her, that she was in control, she’d defend his honour against me. Her aim was clear; to make me look stupid.

Acid rose in my gut and I actually felt angry. Seriously? She was going to make this whole assessment all about the animosity between us?

I nodded, ready to begin. Ready to have this shit over and done with. Ready to retire to my room and not come out for days.

It began simply enough, a few testing blows that had me blocking lightly, like she was getting the feel of me and how I fought. Then suddenly she settled into herself and she struck purposefully, my blocks leading to parries that she would in turn block and open me up for a sharp dig to a vulnerable pressure point.

Her fingers were precise, each time she struck yielded pain for me and there wasn’t a thing I could do other than not parry when I blocked. She kept hold of the knife easily enough despite my efforts to take it from her though she didn’t use it to great effect, almost like she knew I wanted it and would go for it at every opportunity.

She was smart and calculating but when an opportunity to take the knife next arose I ignored it, instead getting under her defences with a strike to the abdomen that pitched her back and onto the ground. She rolled smoothly, finishing in a defensive crouch, gasping hard against the pain I knew I’d caused but her eyes never left mine. Focused and predatory, she was like a damn cat.

We took our positions again, ignoring people talking around the edges of the mat. This time she didn’t hold back.

She actually threw the fucking knife at my face and lunged straight after. I caught it out of the air before it hit me but it was too late by then. Her knee connected high up on my chest, the force slamming me down against the ground where she knelt on top of me, her left knee pinning my right shoulder and her right leg stretched out down the metal arm with her foot pinning the wrist. Her fists were poised to strike but she didn’t.

There was chatter on the periphery of my focus.

Her face was smooth and calm but her eyes were wild. She was either furious or…

I tried to buck her off once but couldn’t quite manage it. Blade forgotten on the mat by the metal hand, I gripped her ankle and forced her leg up, shoving her off so hard she was forced to flip back onto her feet. So much in control of her movements it was almost lazy the way she landed.

I blessed the strength in that metal arm briefly, then I was up and going for her, anger clouding my judgement. I should have known the assessment was over. It had been over before we took our positions after I first struck her, but we were both too riled up to notice. Everyone else had finished and they were all watching us go at it like a pair of prize fighters.

Veronica continued to break me down with tactical strikes to my pressure points, once she even dug her knuckles into the sensitive flesh between my collar bone and the metal shoulder of me left arm.

I snarled through the pain.

Gritting my teeth, I caught her leg when she tried to follow through with a knee to my groin. She grabbed the collar of my suit with both hands and hopped up, pushing her other foot against my chest where she used all her strength to wrench her caught leg free of my grip. Throwing herself backwards in a graceful flip.

I had to admit I was a little surprised, I thought I had control of her but she’d thwarted me again.

Things were getting too heated and too personal but I didn’t care. She was taking everything I threw at her. I held little back. And she was giving the same, bringing pain in places I never thought I was vulnerable.

We were both tired, me from several hours exertion and her from giving me everything she had. Eventually she went for what would have been a killing move if she’d had a weapon. It began with a kick to my inside thigh lifting to a kick to the head, which she knew I would duck. Instead of following through she brought her leg back, hooking it around my neck and would have used my own body weight to roll me into a choke hold I would have had little hope of escaping without the strength of the serum and my prosthetic arm.

Had she landed the move, my neck would have been crushed between her calf and thigh, and the rest of my body opened up for attack. A knife to the heart would have been the perfect finish, if she had one.

As it was, I saw the hook kick coming and threw myself forward, taking her down with me.

She struggled, naturally, but I pinned her to the mat between my legs so I was sat on her hips. Both of her wrists in my metal hand, held viciously above her head with my right hand drawn back in an aborted punch.

We were both soaked in sweat, chests heaving. My fury had gotten the better of me but I hadn’t completely lost control. I had held back on some things at least but I knew I’d fucked up when I heard people talking around us.

I looked up to find fifty-five people staring at me, a mixture of shock and awe on their faces. Steve looked pissed but he didn’t say a word, only shook his head disappointedly.

The sound of laughter brought my focus back to the woman beneath me. She was laughing in between gasping breaths, her eyes fixed on mine.

I frowned angrily. This shit wasn’t funny. I could have seriously hurt her. She’d successfully goaded me into a dangerous fight and now she was laughing about it. Unbelievable. I let her go with a humph.

She grinned, rubbing her wrists before laying both hands softly atop my thighs. It was difficult to tell if her face was red from the fighting or if she had just blushed, but the slow blink and heavily lidded gaze that followed it pulled at something in my gut that shouldn’t even have been there.

Frowning more deeply, I got up. Not bothering to help her to her feet, I stormed out of the studio and hit the showers.

It’s safe to say I was raging, but there was also something else. The tight pressure against my groin guard was unwelcome.

That’s so fucked up.

Sure, she was beautiful but she hated me and the feeling was (is) mutual, especially now. And she’s taken – that wiry-looking guy from assessment one.

Since when did that factor in? You don’t like her. End of story. I told myself.

I let the water run over my body as I calmed myself down. Steve had been right. I should have let him swap Maria onto my list instead but I hadn’t thought it would affect me this much.

The heavy, wet slap of bare feet in the shower room told me I wasn’t alone. I didn’t need to look to know who.

“You wanna tell me what all that was about?” Steve said running the shower next to mine.

“Not really.”

“You’re gonna have to talk it out eventually.”

I didn’t reply. I knew he was angry with me but was making the effort to be diplomatic because he knew that anger would only be met with stubbornness. We knew each other well, and though I’d changed more than I liked, he hadn’t. He was still the same caring, kind, selfless punk-ass kid, he just had a bigger body now.

“I don’t get it, Buck. I really don’t.” Steve scrubbed under his arms. “What did she do to make you hate her so much?”

“She started it by hating me. Why don’t you ask her.” I turned my back on him, still not bothering to open my eyes. The water felt good. It was hot, just how I liked it.

“I have.” He said matter-of-fact.

“And?” It interested me more than I’d care to admit.

“Oh, no you don’t.” He half laughed in disbelief. “You don’t get to hear her story and keep yours to yourself.

“Fine.” I huffed and snagged the body wash I’d hung on the tap. “I know enough, I don’t need to know more.”

I knew Steve was trying to draw me out with the temptation of information. He knew I liked control, information and knowledge was one form of control I could easily achieve, if only I’d trade the information with him.

Nope. Not doing it.

I’d had a moment earlier where I wasn’t totally sure how I felt. There was something underneath the constant resentment I felt towards Dr Edwards, something that threw everything into a different light. I was definitely keeping that to myself.

We showered in silence for the remainder of the time, and when we were getting changed back into our regular clothes Steve stopped, leaning against the lockers.

“You know she completely kicked your ass, right?”

“Go fuck yourself.” I scoffed.

Snorting out a short laugh, he pulled on his trainers and left me to my thoughts.

The dawning of a realisation isn’t necessarily a freeing experience. Sometimes it’s painful as hell. I should know.

Of course I knew she’d kicked my ass. That delicate and intelligent Doctor had just flipped my world right upside down. Everything that had happened to me to make me the killing machine I was and the man I am now had been picked apart by the smooth motion of her body and the sharpness of her strikes. I was weak, emotionally, physically… well maybe not physically but I was vulnerable. She’d shown me that. Shown me how to improve. She’d always shown me how to be better, how to make the most of what I had. Right back to the beginning when I’d come with Steve for the first time and she’d just listened when I’d told her things about my past.

I hadn’t realised it then but I’d opened up. The words I’d said to her then.

I can’t trust my own mind.

I hadn’t had the arm then. My old one had been blasted off by Iron Douche and his chest ray of death.

She’d been so intuitive that I felt like she knew me already, and if she could see that far into my soul then she knew I was rotten to the core. Could she read the pages of that little red book in the lines on my face or the harrowing memories that glazed my eyes over? Could she look at me and see my death count? The idea of that made me ashamed.

If I thought about it hard enough, I could pinpoint the exact moment I began to shut her out and it was right there, on the exam table, when she was helping Dr Harvey assess the damage to my shoulder. I felt like I could trust her, felt like I could let her in. But that was dangerous. New things – dangerous. Opening up – dangerous. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable – dangerous. Getting close to someone who could potentially be your next weakness – dangerous and stupid.

I can’t trust my own mind.

I had shut the feelings down, distanced myself, called her by her formal title, and when she did the same, I convinced myself that it was because she disliked me or worse, she didn’t trust me.

After the assessments today, seeing how hard she went at me, I knew for sure that dislike had taken root. I’d put it there and kept it there so I only had myself to blame but it hurt a little more than it should. Much more than it should, actually. I couldn’t afford to let the feelings back in but I could at least acknowledge them for what they were.

I did like her, was attracted to her – actually that was the easiest part to explain. The rest… well, that was all jumbled up with the emotional baggage I carried around with me. There was too much of it to sort through to get it all straightened out, even with the therapy.

I guess it didn’t matter now anyway. The damage was done and I’d just have to live with things the way they were. I’d still keep my distance, for an easy life. That’s all I wanted really, for things to be easy for a change.

Continue to chapter three >>>

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfcition #bucky barnes x original female character #marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes fight scenes #sparring #action #fight scenes #my writing #cleared for duty #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #Bucky pov #cloudy's writing

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low-budget-korra · 5 years

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The legend Of Korra : Book 02-Philosophy Everywhere

I'm going to divide this one into two parts, talking about the episodes before the episodes 07 and 08 and after them. Due to this first half, I consider the 02 book the weakest of all and here are some of the why.

Beginning 6 months after the events of Book 01, after all that dark shit that happened, everything is great. Right away we had a significant change that was the change with respect to animation, previously made by Studio Mir and that in book 2 began to be made by the studios Pierrot. Nothing against the work of the studios Pierrot , after I started studying digital art I saw that it is something way more laborious than I already thought it would be, but Studio Mir's work was so good in Book 1 that this change is a "down" for the season.

We are presented with the danger of this season, evil spirits and the reality of our dear Fire Ferrets. Bolin is the only one who continues in Pro's Bending while Mako became a cop and Korra is just being the Avatar, and Asami is trying to deal with the CEO’s stuff of the Future Industries.

Now something that bothered me a lot in the first half of season. I felt that everything that Korra went through in Book 01 was for nothing, as there is no development in the character. She remains the same spoiled, arrogant from Book 1

The relationship between Mako and Korra is appalling, especially because of Korra's unbearable and inexplicable behavior earlier this season.

We are also introduced to Unalaq, uncle of Korra and soon we see that his relation with Tonraq is, at least ,troubled. Also we met Tony Stark .... cof sorry, Varrick and what a good surprise this character was.

Returning to Korra, this second season she is even more childish than the first. It's inexplicable, I dont know what happened. Like, I can understand her sense of frustration of still being treated as someone who is incapable of making choices, but what does she do? She goes there and shows that she is incapable of making choices.

Like all the building of partnership and trust that was made in book 01 between Tenzin and Korra, something that I unfortunately forgot to mention in my review of book 01, was thrown in the trash because in the first "fight" she exchanged the Tenzin that literally hugged her in the worst moments of her life until then, by an uncle she barely know

I think that when, soon in the first episode Korra dispenses the Tenzin, Unalaq must have thought : "Man, that was easy"

Then we have Korra with unnecessary anger for her father for him not told he was banished from the Northern WaterTribe and why. Like, girl, this is certainly something your father is not proud of, maybe even blaming himself for the inexperience and arrogance in which he acted when, after chasing the barbarians who attack the city , ended up destroying a sacred place. I'm sure you did not tell him about how "cool" the first conversation you had with Amon was.

Okay, I'll take it easy with Korra, maybe this "Stop Protecting Me" it is her trying to reaffirm herself as Avatar after all she suffered in Book 01. Then this almost desperation for not wanting to be seen as a child and wanting to be considered a capable person, made her, ironically, act like a child and show herself unable , after make some wrong choices.

You guys remember that when the NorthTribe invaded the SouthTribe, she chose to stay with her uncle and not her father. Even Tonraq being an incredible father.

(Look at this? This person is trustworthy right. The guy is sitting in a dark room, alone doing a bunch of nothing. IN THE DARK!)

Unalaq was another one that I did not like since the moment I saw it. He is by far the worst villain even more that Ozai's greatest megalomaniac style, worse yet, Ozai wanted his Nation to rule the world while Unalaq wants evil to dominate simply because he wants to. But I give him something, he was good to see that moment of “wanting approval” that Korra and exploits it in his favor.

When Korra discovers that his uncle was responsible for the unjust sentence of his father when Unalaq underwent an attempt of kidnapping and that he also was responsible for the banishment his father years ago. First of all I can not blame her for the violent way she approached the judge for the conversation because I think it would do the same. (Dont mess with the people i love)

Something very interesting to note was that this season was where everyone was further away from each other. And the frozen scenery of the northern watertribe helped amplify this feeling. The soundtrack of this season is also incredible, all of the seasons are actually.

Another thing I liked was the interaction between the sons of Aang. It was a bit sad to know that despite being a great Avatar, Aang was a bit flawed as a parent. Paying more attention to his duty to the world than with his family. And clearly having a favorite son, Tenzin. I can understand why, but is sucks anyway

But I also think the character who was best explored this season was Tenzin. We can connect with his concerns. The burden of being responsible for the survival of the airbender culture, the fear of failure, and the quest to be a reflection of his father.

We know more about Bumi, and dude, the scene in ep.04 where he talks to his father's statue, apologizing for not being an airbender, and besides that , he did what he can to keep the world . And Kya is kind of a more lesbian cooler version of Katara in terms of personality.

One more “down” to this Book in the beginning was to make fun with the Bolin being clearly in an abusive relationship with Eska. This is not fun people, people die because of it.

Poor Mako in the first half, his only getting slapped by Korra . Later on I understand, but I dont agree with his position of delivering Korra's plans to get help for the southern tribe to Raiko. Episode 06 was focused on Mako, Bolin and Asami. We can see Asami, in a moment of weakness that I dont understand until today, kissing Mako. Bolin pursuing film career and Mako showing a certain ability as a detective. This I found cool because it gains another layer to the character , it is no longer just the romantic interest of Korra. It also had virtually the revelation of Varrick as a secondary villain for this arc of them

Bolin also has something nice, If in the first episode, he was shown was someone who only can fight with The Krew, later in book 2 he and we see that he is capable to fight alone for himself.

And Asami, this babe was her own “up and fall and up again” arc as CEO of her dad company. And she shows that she has what its need to take control of the business.

I really dont know what happened to the writers in this first half of book 02, way below the expected But Raava inspired them to make the wonder that is the second half of the season. And so I finish my analysis of the first half of book 02

Beginnings part 1 and 2 are my favorite episodes of the entire AVATAR series. Seriously, everything in these episodes is incredible, from the differentiated animation (Studio Mir is back baby!!!)to the soundtrack, and of course, the script.

In Beginnings we are introduced to the first avatar, Avatar Wan. And so, we are presented as the cycle began. From real, every time I see these two episodes I cry like a baby.

"Return to the beginning. Find Raava "

Lets talk about Wan, he was a young thief trying to survive, in a dangerous and authoritarian era of what might be considered the beginnings of the Fire Nation, a city that lay on the back of a Giant Turtle, protected them from the spirits -dominated forests.

I will not say much about these two episodes because even if you dont remember , go watch, seriously, it's incredible. And because if I start talking about them I will not finish.

In short. Wan receives the power of fire from the Giant Lion Turtle and go into the forest. Then he return home before entering the forest, and thus steals the fire power ,which was forbidden to use in the city.What is worth mentioning is that the bendinds there were not developed , dont expect martial arts movements.

Here ,even with power, Wan is merciful and selfless. He did not think only of himself, he did not exposed who participated in the rebellion with him and still spared the life of a guard. He is then banished to the forest and .... aaa did not say, I cant not speak of these episodes man

Anyway, after going through "trouble" on his first night out in the woods. He seeks the help of a spirit who simply says "it's not my problem", so Wan tries to fantasize as spirit to be able to enter the oasis of the same spirit that denied him help. Then he discovers that there are other LionTurtles, and consequently, other cities.

And in his journey, even with hunger he decides to release an animal, which turns his animal partner. And so, seeing the altruistic action of Wan, the same spirit that denied him help, helps him to escape the hunters. And so he decides to stay and learn from the spirits.

And so, Wan learns the dragon dance, protecting the oasis and his friends spirits. My baby Wan <3

Back in town, Wan's old friend decides to lead a group of people who believe that only with the power of fire, it is possible to live in the forests. Needless to say that shit happens right ?!

Then Wan decides to travel the world with his pet, Mula. The music in these parts is one of the most beautiful things I've ever seen, really.

Then Wan discovers Raava and Vaatu fighting and, unknowingly, helps Vaatu to escape. With the help of Raava ,who at first dont like the ideat of joining with Wan to fight Vaatu), Wan finds the other lions turtles and is given the other bendings.

Raava is light and peace. Literally, the good. Vaatu is evil.

However, Wan can only change elements, when the spirit of Raava passes through his body. Wan is an example of a good person, he literally made the biggest shit in the world but instead of running away, as many would do, he took responsibility and face it.

And it is on this journey that he begins to train heavy, the elements, and learn about the balance of the world.

"He can not destroy light any more than i cant destroy darkess. One can not exist without the other "_Raava

"Most humans think only about themselves" _Raava

Man, this is so true, worse, it's a direct truth. There is no metaphor here.

There we see humans using the power of fire to clear the forest, nothing new really. The same group as that friend of Wan. And so, these people attack anything (spirits) they see, not knowing whether it is good or bad, just by their own ignorance. What unfortunately happens in various parts of the world with minority groups that are attacked only by the ignorance of the aggressors.

In this 5-minute scene, we see all the power of ignorance and violence. Humans have invaded and destroyed the forest, and still set fire to any spirit that appears. In Brazil we have farmers doing exactly the same thing with the natives, with the moral help of the president. But we are not here to talk about the shit hole that is Brazil right now....

The stronger Vaatu gets, the smaller and weaker Raava gets.

(I'm almost crying because I'm writing while I'm watching this wonderful episode.)

It is then that Wan touch’s on the energy that comes out of one of the portals and this scene happens

(This scene gives me so many chills. Its simple epic)

Now officially as Avatar, Wan and Raava succeed together defeating Vaatu, imprisoning for the next 10 thousand years. It is also Wan who makes the decision to close the portal, separating spirits and humans.

We then see the Lion Turtles talking that a new era has begun, and we will no longer be given the power of the elements to the people. Then shows Wan's narration as he separates two armies, because it seems that war is what a human being does best.

Then we think the episode ends there. With the message of the duty of the avatar and all but ...oh boy we are wrong . We see a much older Wan, mortally wounded in battle. Regretting that he had not fulfilled his duty to bring peace, that darkness still surrounds humanity, he did not have enough time.

"Do not worry, we will be together for all your lifetimes and we will never give up" _Raava

Soon after this talk of Raava, Wan dies and the cycle of avatars begins.

(im not crying... you are)

Something I think is very important to mention is that these two episodes, as well as this season of The Legend Of Korra, use something that I hate, that is the megalomaniac villain and the megalomaniac consequences. Only, especially in these two episodes of the Wan, we are not focused on this but on the learning of the character and all the wisdom of Raava(the hero).

Vaatu can be evil, he has to be evil because he is evil. Now, Unalaq? "Urrr I will release the spirit of darkness to become an evil avatar because I want, even if it destroys the world."

If Vaatu was the villain alone, trying to lead Korra to the dark side, I think it would have been better, or if Unalaq had been better worked for us to believe in his ambitions ... All the Korra villains have a very cool ideology be it equality, freedom or prosperity. Unalaq is only a classic religious fanatic, and a forgettable villain.

Moreover, the rest is just Korra and his friends preparing for Harmonic Convergence to beat Vaatu. And the end of the arc’s of Asami, Bolin and Mako.

Now, on this journey of Korra in the spirit world, when she misses Jinora and meets Iroh. Their interaction is wonderful.

I'll separate some quotes from Iroh to Korra, who at the moment is in the shape of a child.

Iroh says: "Even in material world you will find it, if you look for the light you can often find it. But if you look at the dark, heres what you will see "

Several things can be compared to this speech, but the first thing that came to mind was depression and its power to catastrophize everything. As depressive girl, I think I have the property to speak at least of my experience with it.

As depressive, I often see things on the more negative side and thus, "I search for darkness" and so, it is only her that I see. And as much as the search for light is arduous and tiresome, it compensates. It's a daily struggle. Even in the worst of times, look for the light in the dark and you'll be fine. Even if the path is dark and scary, we all have light and we can all walk that path, whether alone or with help.

And Iroh was also right in another speech, helping others is one of the best things you can do. I can not describe the good feeling that takes care of you when you help someone. I think if we all did that, the world would not be in such a mess.

Now let's talk about the shocking and sad scene of the loss of connections.

Honestly I think it's something that can be reversed, and if I did it in a fanfic the creators can do in HQ u.u

About the fanfic, ~propaganda moment here~, I swear that I will continue translate it a and post at least once a month on Wattpad with the link here on Tumblr.Who was interested, here is the link of the chapters already translated. I still do not consider myself fluent in English, so I accept any corrections.

Link for the chapters in English: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/117030440-the-legend-of-korra-book-5-legacy

(This is just to say how much i love Korra with loose and messy hair, my god how I find it sexy. And for you guys to see this gorgeus image and forgive me for the “propaganda time”)

Returning...

Anyway, at first, I found it very heavy and unnecessary but after analyzing the series as a whole and not just Book 2, I think I understood.

Korra is the avatar in a world practically totally different from the world of Aang and the previous avatars. A world where technology grows every day, a world each more similar to ours. That is, a new era. And this new age, perhaps it did not need other avatars.

Dont slap me please. But like, for example, what am I going to ask a 19th-century person how she communicated, if we have the cell phone today? Things have changed, the experiences and how to deal with the things too. Perhaps Avatar Kyoshi does not have adequate advice for the Avatar in an increasingly political and complicated world.

The breaking of the cycle was literally the end of an era of Avatars, the avatars that will come after Korra, in theory, will be more apt to deal with these problems so similar to what we experience.

But yes, I wanted her to somehow reconnect.

As you can see, although I love reading philosophical, political, social, historical, and psychological things, I do not quote any specific author in my interpretations, but I certainly use the knowledge I learned in what I write. "Lara, why dont you quote this guys here?" Cause my memory is terrible in memorising words, which means that I would have to reread, to know who exactly said what, and my college dont let me have this much time

Another thing I forgot to mention, the Gifs are not mine, more talented people than I've done them, and I just picked it up from the internet. Ican tag you in the comments if you are the author of those

Although it is not the book that most focuses on psychological issues, it does so through philosophical questions of "Who I am" and "What is my duty in the world"

Overall, book 2 of The Legend Of Korra is the most nostalgic of all, in my opinion. And in my view, the theme that stands out is that of "Search for own identity".

We see this in Wan,Bolin, Korra, Tenzin, and Jinora in a more prominent way.

Wan on his quest for Avatar's identity, even if it is unconscious. Korra for the exact opposite, her quest is for herself. Who is Korra? And would Korra be limited to just been The Avatar?

Who is Tenzin? He finally detaches himself from his father's image. As he says in the fog of the lost souls: "Im not a refletion of my father. Im Tenzin " Bolin who discovers his is not just a sidekick to his brother, he is more than that

And Jinora discovering and embracing without question her full potential with the spiritual side.

And besides, i hate it the all giant final fight. I simple dont like it.

#the legend of korra #avatar korra #team avatar #Asami Sato #tenzin #mako #bolin #avatar #korrasami #raava #avatar wan

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teroknope · 6 years

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Bro your writing is AMAZING!! I’d like to request if that’s cool with you? Maybe something like you’re a praetorian guard thats friends with kylo, but he doesn’t know you’re a guard (bc of the whole red theme/masks). Then in the fight scene after snoke dies Rey is fighting you & somehow ur helmet comes off and Rey is about to kill u but kylo saves you & when Rey refuses his offer to rule w him, maybe you take it instead bc u guys have lil crushes on each other?? idk man just a thought.:)

A/N : Thank you for your comment! It really means a lot to hear feedback like this, it’s really inspiring me to keep writing 〔´∇｀〕

I…really don’t know where this came from I was meant to work today but I’ve caught a cold or something; so I’ve been resting up today (By that I mean I’ve watched a SHIT ton of Adam Driver films lol). I have spent part of the day writing this. I hope you enjoy it anon! I am sorry if it’s not up to the usual standard as I said I am a bit ill! ty for your request

Warnings: TLJ Spoilers! Don’t read if you don’t want to be spoiled for The last Jedi.

W.C: 3,500

The honour of being a praetorian guard was reserved for the most dedicated and elite warriors; you considered it a privilege to be included in this elite group. Dedicating your entire being to the service of Supreme Leader Snoke. It was protocol to be trained in numerous martial art, perhaps the most influential being Akane, in which the imperial royal guard was trained in during the reign of The Emperor.

When you were not on duty, you were either resting or training. You took your training seriously, it was a great stress relief too. You were not sure when you would get the opportunity to train, so when you did you jumped at the chance.

This lead to a walk in with Kylo Ren himself. Ren caught you training in the room that is usually empty at that time of the day. The training room doors opened swiftly, you turned to face the open door. Your face red and your body sweaty, although you did not expect judgement as it is a training room; you are supposed to be sweaty.

“Commander Ren,” You acknowledged his presence, performing the standard First Officer Salute. You knew he was nothing like The Supreme Leader; he was better.

You knew Kylo could defeat The Supreme Leader in a combat of physical strength in mere seconds, but it was The Supreme Leaders mental ability, in particular, his strength in the force, which kept him alive. It was your responsibility to be his physical strength, your duty and your honour.

“At this hour, I normally train in this room,” He observed, his voice monotone through his helmet.

You did not know what to say, “Apologies commander, I can leave if needed”

“I can offer an alternative” He pondered “Spar with me”

You were not in a position to refuse; nor that you wanted to either.

“Yes, Commander Ren” You could not deny you were ecstatic to train with a man who wielded a lightsaber. You saw it as excellent practice, that was it, right? Nothing more.

There were numerous weapons available, you hesitated before you took the spear. Would he guess you were part of the praetorian guard? No, surely not from your choice of picking a spear.

“Let’s begin” He flicked on his erratic saber, the noise surrounding the room.

You were watching him in two ways; firstly, on the skill in which he swung his saber, as well so you could effectively block and parry his attacks. Secondly, which you would not admit to anyone, was you ogling his toned arms, well they were more than toned. Although you had not yet seen his face, you could not help finding yourself attracted to him physically

Likewise, Kylo watched you intently; he saw the strength in your physical form. You were not what he would consider a stereotypical officer to be; what stuck out for him was your individual mind. You were dedicated to The First Order but separated at the same time.

The sparring session ended when Ren knocked the blade out of your grip, it flew to the floor with an almighty thud. You were stunned, it had to be a long time since you were bested in battle.

You were breathing was short and fast, your body sweaty and warm. Ren noticed how the heat had risen to your cheeks; turning them a soft pink. He caught himself staring at you; he pulled away.

“Thank you, Commander Ren, for the opportunity” You saluted him.

“You did well; I’ll see to it that we spar again”.

That was the first time you spared with Kylo Ren and it seemed like so long. Since the discovery and pursuit of the BB8 unit you had been placed at Snoke’s side twenty-four seven, you considered yourself blessed if you got a moment to rest.

The efforts were unsuccessful, and Kylo Ren was at the front of the scrutiny of Emperor Snoke.

“Take off that ridiculous thing off” Snoke whispered, urgently and seriously.

You began to hate how he spoke to Ren; but more so why had you come to idealise a man you don’t really know or understand. But you wanted to, so much.

Praetorian guards were conditioned to react to any unspurred movement in the vicinity of The Supreme Leader. You watched the scene unfold; he had recently returned from his fight with the other force user. Being at the side of Snoke you heard the untold rage, anger and disappointment that he felt.

When Ren adamantly removed his helmet; the Ren you saw was not like the man you use to know. He looked so defeated, his dark hair fell in front of his pale face. You noticed how his right eye was a dark red, bruised and sore. Not to mention the new edition of the sharp scar falling across his eye; although the thin black bandaged covered the majority of it. You were observing Ren as Snoke continued his verbal abuse, your ears clocking back to the current moment when Snoke roared;

“… he split your spirit to the bone. You were unbalanced, bested by a girl who had never held a lightsaber, you failed!”

Kylo reacted, as any individual would. He began to hastily rose to his feet but Snoke was always one step ahead, he released a wave of force lightning which sent Ren smacking the cold ground.

You empathized with his pain immensely; the crimson armour you wore would send sharp electric currents throughout the panels. A necessity to deflect blasters and lightsaber.

The conditioned bodies of the guards reacted the moment Ren rose to his feet, yourself included. You all shifted to a battle stance; your decorated spear pointing towards Ren, the man you admired so much. The base of the spear was the same red as your armour but was decorated with a beautiful silver blade, no doubt made from the finest silver in the galaxy.

The moment Snoke returned to this throne you relaxed, spinning the spear to stand on the ground; the tip peering over your shoulder

The man you saw was not the Kylo you had come to know; although he was unaware that you knew him. He left the room and entered the elevator, you could only imagine what was whizzing through his mind.

Eventually, you were allowed to rest, you returned to your quarters. Shedding off the heavy armour. You stepped into the hot shower, letting the water wash away the intense situation that occurred today. Your mind could not help sympathising with Ren; you found yourself becoming nostalgic on the times you use to spar with him.

“Thank you for the opportunity once again, Commander” You hated being formal, but it was necessary. A few hours before Ren had left a message for you on your transceiver, a request to spar with him again.

You would not deny yourself the opportunity; you were excited about the experience. The moment you read the message your world brightened ever so sightly.

You and Ren were in the same training room as before, although this time you had not chosen your weapon. You glanced over the display of various tools and devices.

perhaps something different this time? You considered.

“No, the same weapon as last time” He spoke, ah, you had forgotten how to force users can sense the smallest detail of your mind.

“Yes, Commander” You affirmed, grasping the spear. While you were checking it over, you heard whirs and clicks that you did not recognise. Followed by a thud. You turned your head and for the first time saw the commander without his helmet.

You understood it was more of a statement rather than a need to hide anything he was ashamed of; you thought how you liked his physical features. Especially his hair, you then reminded your thoughts to be quiet.

He already had heard them of course, but he did not tell you that.

You both took the position, standing opposite each other.

“Let’s begin” He unsheathed his saber, and twirled it at the same time.

The training was far more intense than the one before, you had both gotten accustomed to your fighting style. Making it more challenging. As expected Kylo once again bested you in battle, throwing you to the floor, the spear dancing on the floor as it flew from your hand.

He held his gloved hand out to you, you took it gripping it tightly. It was so much…larger than your own.

“Thank you again, Commander” you wheezed out, trying to look respectable.

You left the shower, finally relaxed and able to sleep for the night. You hoped Kylo Ren also had ease sleeping that night, you imagined he found it difficult to sleep most nights, especially with the responsibility he carried. What followed the next day would continue to prove you wrong.

The reflection of a hissing blue blade bounced off your armour, your mind and body coming to attention the moment it ignited. You watched as it pierced through The Supreme Leader. You stopped breathing for a short second; you faced Snoke and watch the blade be pulled from him, cutting him in half.

Instantaneously you equipped your spear; yourself and the other guards began your assault on the girl and Ren. You could not show resilience, you could not show you did not want to kill the person you admired the most. But you had a duty above all.

Fate had landed you in the position to fight the girl, wielding the blade that killed Snoke. He was fast, although slightly inexperienced but the rage made up for this. The rage seethed through her eyes as her blade hit your spear. You focus was on her, but you observed from the corner of your vision how your fellow guards fell one by one.

This is it you gravely thought. The end of your life was near.

The girl scraped the saber against the floor, the hot sparks bouncing off your armour. The blade swung close to your feet, you instinctually stepped back. Unfortunately not far enough.

As she pulled the blue saber up it ripped through the front of your crimson helmet. Scraping away at the armour, somehow missing the right side of your face. It obliterated the front of the helmet; leaving a large gaping chunk. Rendering it useless. Nevertheless, you continued to fight back.

Kylo watched as Rey glided through the helmet like it was nothing; the more you moved the more the masked chipped away.

Eventually, the right side of your face was exposed

It’s her. The thoughts whizzed through Ren’s mind. The one I sparred with.

The right of the helmet continuously chipped off, you got frustrated. Ripping off the rest of your helmet. You could still feel the heat of the saber lingering on the broken armour.

This was when the girl used the moment to her advantage.

You were no stranger to being hit by the force, in the early days of your training you were frequently conditioned to withstand such an intense power. She held out her hand in front of you and your body came to a sudden halt. You knew what was coming.

She forcefully pushed you, sending you flying into the wall very high from the floor; your back violently crashed into it. You felt your armour crack, which spread throughout your chest area.

Miraculously the armour still proved useful as you fell to the floor with a depressing thud, your spear falling arm length away from you. if it was not for your Armor you would not have survived the fall; although the pain was indescribable.

Your eyes were begging to close, but you force them open. The impact had flown through your entire being, affecting you in multiple ways. You thought this would be it; she would come to finish you off. You imagined her shoving the lightsaber through your chest, this is how you would die.

By the grace of the gods, it seemed the girl had forgotten you once you were out of her immediate proximity and focused on your fellow guards. One was holding Ren in a choke, you could see him struggling

She threw her saber to Ren, who in one click of a switch put it through the head of the last guard.

That’s it, you was the last one.

The girl then turned to you. It appears she would not show you mercy after all, anyway why would she? You served the most powerful and most destructive being in the galaxy; there would be consequences.

Your arm weakly stretched out and gripped your broken spear; although it was not in its prime it was still sharp. A last-minute defence.

Her eyes bolted to you, she saw you reach out and grip your weapon. You could feel her march over to you, her footsteps heavy on the metal floor. Although your senses were blurry, you could tell at the velocity in which she was coming to finish the job.

“Rey” That deep voice, which you had come to admire called out. She ignored it and continued powering towards your defenceless body.

“There is no life left in that one” Your heart sank.

“leave her to die”. Your heart sank even more.

You were not sure if it was due to the intense physical pain that she caused or the intense emotional pain that he had just inflicted. But tears begin to sting your eyes, dripping down your bloody face.

Had Kylo Ren betrayed The First Order? Was he to return from where he came? Anger and confusion surged through your veins, Ren could sense this. Rey thought he was staring at her, but he was staring through her. At you.

Trust me, stay still, do not move. His voice reverberated through your mind.

Calmness washed throughout your body, although this was not the best decision in this moment in time as you felt your body beginning to slip in and out of consciousness. Resulting in you hearing parts of their conversation.

“It’s time to let old things die…We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy”

So, he had not betrayed The First Order; not entirely.

“Please, don’t go this way” She begged

‘Your nothing, but not to me” Oh, did he care for her? It seemed like she did

“Join Me” Ah, another stab in the chest.

“Please” He was pleading; you sort of hoped she took his decision. You could imagine the consequences if she did not.

You regained a clearer consciousness when you felt a strange force hitting your body. You forced your sore eyes open; observing Ren and the girl pushing themselves away from one another. The lightsaber hanging in the middle. Momentarily a bright light surrounded the room, both of them flying in opposite directions. The sheer force of the blast rolled you over, knocking you out once again.

By the time you awoke the throne room was somehow worse than before, more specs of fire falling from the ceiling. You looked around the room.

The girl was gone. Perhaps she had offered you mercy or had more important matters to see to. Either way, you were relieved, and very lucky.

Wait, Kylo. His name shot through your mind like a speeder, your eyes desperately searching for him. You could not mistake his broad frame, collapsed on the metal floor, his back facing you. You could not tell if he was breathing, you still had a duty, you had to get closer to him.

You slowly rose to your feet by leaned up onto your knees, continuing onto standing on your right foot and then you left. Your body ached like no pain you had ever known.

You limped over to Kylo; your weight bearing down on your injured left leg. You held onto your side in which the girl cut you, while it was not a deep cut it hurt badly. You could feel your muscles begging for rest. Eventually, after what seemed like far too long you reach Kylo’s body. Your training kicked in; begrudgingly you knelt down next to him. Letting out a groan of pain as you moved next to him,

“Commander Ren,” you called to him as loud as you could, which was actually the sound of whispering.

You hastily removed the armour from your right hand, Flexing your fingers. The soothing air hitting the bloody skin. You placed two fingers on Ren’s neck, feeling for a pulse.

It was there, faint, but there. You sighed. Thank the heavens.

Commander Hux entered the room, his face paler and pastier than usual. The destruction was beyond what he had imagined. He wearily walked over to The Supreme Leader’s split body; he watched The Supreme Leader’s lower half fall to the floor. The thud reverberating throughout the shattered room.

You had not glanced at his corpse once. You did not desire that image burned into your mind for the rest of your days. You were unaware of Hux gazing at you and Ren, you were too focused on making sure The Commander was alive; as a consequence, you were oblivious to Hux maliciously pulling out his pistol.

Kylo awoke with a gasp, his head facing the floor. You instinctively placed your hand on his shoulder, he gazed at your bloody face.

“Your alive” He gently spoke. Kylo stared at you; he noticed how your bottom lip had a large cut in which the blood around it had dried up. Your eyes bloodshot, your face once perfectly clean was covered with small nicks, bruises and blood. He only imagined how bruised your body would have looked. Ren could tell you were in agony, but admiring you for persevering

Hux placed the pistol back into its holster, sneakily pulling his back coat over it.

“What” Hux was pissed, you had only known General Hux around The Supreme Leader, like a doting child. You had never heard such anger in this voice although you imagined him to expressing it frequently. “Happened”.

“The girl murdered Snoke” He was lying through his teeth, it was necessary for his survival.

“General” You stood hastily, the pain shooting through your body. Hux could tell you were in great pain, he did not care.

“I can corroborate with Commander Ren, what he speaks is the truth”. You saw Hux’s pale eyes gaze you up and down; no doubt judging you for how defeated you had looked. You would have no motive to lie, you were a guard and nothing more. You saw Hux’s eye observe you with concern. Kylo hastily stood up,

“What happened?” He sturdily asked Hux.

“She took Snoke’s escape craft” Hux spoke, grinding his teeth in anger.

“I know where she is going…get all of our forces down to that Resistance base, let’s finish this” He asserted his authority, without a shadow of a doubt.

“Finish this?” You instantly recognised the threatening tone of Hux’s voice. “who do you think you’re talking to?”

Your aching body reacted instinctively, taking a defensive stance to the side of Ren. Albeit you would be useless without a weapon and not to mention how beaten up your body was. It hurt to lift your limbs so it would be impossible to perform hand-to-hand combat. He did not need you to defend him, but it was more of a symbolic signifier to general Hux. One which Kylo did take notice of.

—-

After Ren had force strangled Hux and assumed his position as The Supreme Leader you hastily retreated to your chambers, you knew the fight was not over. But you were no use to anyone in this physical condition. You tore off the remains of your crimson Armor, countless panels laying on your once clean floor.

There was no time to take a shower regrettably as you would begin the assault on the rebel base, in which Ren asserted that you would accompany him.

The sound of the door sliding open brought you to attention, you walked out of your private bedroom freshly changed into your First Order uniform; he was standing there, with troopers behind him.

“Leave us,” He commanded the pair, who took watch outside of your chambers.

There was a pause for a short second “I never suspected you were a praetorian guard” he inquired.

“You never asked” You smirked at him, “Besides, I felt best if I kept my identity as a praetorian guard a secret so it would not impact my duties” You muttered, actively lying through your teeth. Since you had met Kylo your entire stance on being a guard had changed, watching Snoke torture him made your blood boil.

“I am still bound by my duty. If you would have me, I want to serve you. Although I feel that was obvious by my actions earlier, I feel it had…value if I say it to you directly” You warmly smiled at him.

He took a step closer to you, your heart leapt for a second.

Ren’s eyes never left yours, moments ago he was betrayed by the one person he believed would join him. Yet here you were, someone who had always been there, diligent, loyal and strong. It made his heart slightly flutter.

“So, you will join me?” He repeated himself, he was so close to you that the personal space was almost none existent.

“You never had to ask, I am always at your side Supreme Leader Ren.”

#Kylo Ren x Reader #Anonymous #Kylo Ren Imagine #Kylo Ren #Star Wars Imagine #TLJ #The Last Jedi Spoilers #TLJ Spoilers #Star Wars #Star Wars Fanficiton #Kylo Ren Fanficiton #This one is so long LOL #TheLeastWriting #MKWrites

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kazimir29 · 6 years

Photo

MOODBOARDS! for my CallBoi AU + a mini manual of sorts regarding the rules and regulations of the place.

MUST KNOW under the cut!

Callboi AU the brothel “Paradiso” manual:

-open 9pm to 4am

(*) Front Desk

1. When a first time customer gets to the front desk, they will be asked to register their name and will be given a registration number for them to access the official *Paradiso app.*

2. Once they are registered they will then be asked to log in the time they arrived and log out by the time they leave in any of the exists provided by the establishment.

3. They will also be given a hard copy of the club’s manual together with a map of the place and the schedule of the night’s festivities.

4. Will be asked what they’re here for: if they’re here looking for a companion for the night then they will be given the chance to pick what room they want to book. After booking the key would immediately be transferred in the app so they can access it via scan. (If they change their minds, they make cancelation via the app and the extra money they were charged for the room will be transferred back to their account)

If they said they’re only here to see the festivities and later on changed their mind and they want to spend the night with someone, they can contact the front desk through the app and the personnel will arrange a room of the customer’s choosing.

5. Once they answer those questions they’re free to go and enjoy the night.

(*) Main Floor Stage

1. This stage is purely for entertainment purposes such as plays, dance, musical performance and any performing arts.

2. Customers can order food and a drink to enjoy as they watch the show.

(*) Cages

1. Mainly used as props for the performing arts but can be used in a sexual way like teasing purposes. For the escort’s safety no cage is to be used in private.

2. Customers who persist and make the escort uncomfortable will be given a warning, if they still push for it they will be kicked out of the establishment.

(*) Sex Shop

1. The sex shop is at the lower level where customers can find the toys and clothes they want to use for the night, it can be delivered to their room or they can pick them up themselves.

2. Harness, ropes, handcuffs and other exterior pleasure things is available in every room the customer chooses.

3. If you want to use toys like dildos, vibrators, cockrings, or any toys that would immensely make contact with either the penis, vagina, anus, or any bodily fluids, then they would have to buy it. (for sanitary purposes)

(*) Rooms

1. There are two types of play rooms: the common room or the BDSM room, both are charged the same

2. Every room is heavily monitored and recorded for the escort’s safety purposes. This is non-negotiable.

3. Every room has a full length mirror (if they’re into that kind of stuff)

4. Every room has a closet full of harness and ropes and any other restrictive devices that they’d like to use

5. Every room is also equipped with a full room black light

6. Every room has a box of condom, different flavored lube and glow in the dark body paint.

7. Every room has a panic button only the escort knows about, that they can press if they feel they’re not in a comfortable environment. The panic call would automatically alert the security HQ and the guards close to the vicinity. Other than the customer, only the main owners and security has the key to unlock any room via hand scan.

(*) Lower Floor Stage

1. This is it. This is where the dirty happens. Everything dirty and nasty you can think of it happens here.

2. The second floor is the dance floor, escorts would often perform pole dancing, strip tease and public favors if the escort wants to. (Every table has a pole if the customer wants a more private show)

(*) Living Arrangements and about the workers

1. If the workers has nowhere to go, a living quarters would be provided for them to stay in, free of charge but there’s a cut to their pay since everything would be provided for them such as food and electricity.

2. Two workers will be partnered up and will be roommates for the remainder of their stay.

3. Most of the workers they have are people that have nothing, who they found on the streets, who were abandoned by their families and who are homeless.

4. NOT ALL WORK IS SEXUAL. Those who are underage and who does not want to work for any sexual favors are given different jobs such as:

-performers (though performers can also be an escort if they want to)

-cleaning duty

-bartender

-costume assistant

-stage design

-kitchen duty

-front desk personnel

-security

-filing/paperwork

5. Those who have mental health problems will be required to undergo therapy before they can work full time.

6. If the workers decides they want to leave, they would be given an ample amount of money to help them get on their feet to start a new life.

7. If they have been a worker at the club for three years, they would be offered if they want to study again and continue their education, the establishment would then pay for them and give them additional allowance till they graduate. (This only applies to full time workers)

8. After they graduate they would then be asked to work part time, minimum of two years, doesn’t have to be everyday but at least two times a week.

9. Fighting and hostility amongst other workers will not be overlooked. If you have a problem with any of the workers then talk it out till you reach a compromise.

10. Escorts can take to the streets AT THEIR OWN RISK. but is provided with a tracking device and a help signal if they find themselves in a sticky situation.

11. The establishment provide workshop classes for the workers if they want, art classes, dance classes, musical instrument lessons, first aid, self defence class, martial arts and muay thai. Workshops and lessons can be negotiated on whatever the workers want to learn about.

*Customer offence*

1. Any customer who has offended the workers would be given a warning, and would be kicked out of the establishment.

2. If the customer did the same thing tree times, the customer would then be banned from entering the establishment.

3. If the customer persist to go inside and fight, they would be reported to the police along with their record of offence and will be given a restraining order.

*Paradiso APP*

1. The app is the official app of the club and customers would be able to access the active escorts there and pick who they want to spent the night with

2. The escort’s profile would only provide the escort’s picture, their rate, their list of what they’re ok to do, turn ons and turn offs, and a contact number where the customer can contact them (not their personal contact number.)

3. If the customer choose someone, an operator would answer the call and they will inform the escort, once the escort gives the go signal, the operator would then connect the customer to the escort so they can talk and negotiate. All calls are recorded for safety purposes.

4. Customers can also access the app for reservations, cancelations etc.

5. The app would also alert the handler the night’s festivities.

6. A copy of the manual, rules and regulations is also provided in case the customer lost the hard copy.

7. Every purchase made and actions done with the app is listed so the customer can look back at it and manage it.

And that’s about it! If you have any concerns or questions, feel free to message me and I’ll answer in the best way I can!

#callboi au #manual #lord help me this took forever #long post #moodboard #moodboards #FAQ

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ask-svt-hearteu · 6 years

Text

bodyguard reader! Dino

anon requested: “ requests are open omg! is it possible to do a bodyguard AU but with a female character as the body guard instead? any member is fine, even if you can’t thank you ❤️❤️ “

to be honest you were highkey salty

you were a highly trained agent, excelled in all forms of martial arts, trained in hacking, a perfect candidate for undercover work

and your father was actually making you become bodyguard for some group

wth

you were “too young to work for the government” according to the higher ups

i mean if you were talking international age, you were already 18

in a few months you’d be legal in Korea, so what was the deal

“yah, listen, you can’t even drink yet, so take this time to relax, taking on this easy job”

you know better than to groan in front of your father, so you bow respectfully before leaving

it was okay though

the job was only a few months, as you were a guard during their World Tour

you had the rest of your life in front of you

you don’t need to be doing life threatening things yet

so with a bag swung over your shoulder, dressed in black leggings, a floral top, cardigan, and cute sneakers

hopefully you look makeup noona enough

your cover for the time you’re going to spend guarding, to avoid suspicion

so you sit on the chair at the front desk, crossing your legs, and leaning back casually

listening and watching attentively, you hear foot steps, the sound of someone coming downstairs

you’re already staring at him when he sees you

“who are you?” he asks, standing as far away from you as possible, guarded

standing calmly, you smile, “finally someone, i wonder why there’s no one at the front desk”

you hum, purposefully not matching your tone with the serious look on his face

he squints at you suspiciously, “she’s on lunch break”

“well then,” you take a step closer, small smile still on your face

“my name’s y/n, i’m your new… makeup artist”

his face had clicked in your brain

Lee Chan

even with the cap and mask covering most of his features

his glaring eyes are still distinct

“and how do I know you’re not a saesang”

you almost laugh at his defensive stance

“just get someone who works here and they’ll explain”

you smile prettily

he backs away carefully, and you hear the sounds of his steps quickly pounding against the stairs

just five minutes later, a crowd of men stagger into the small lobby

staring at you

while you calmly introduce yourself again with a smile on your face, their manager steps up

“we’re sorry for the inconvenience, come this way”

the looks on their faces as they make way for you, priceless

turns out, they were excepting a new bodyguard, just not the bodyguard to be

you

they open up to you quickly, the common age you shared with Chan helping

ironically, that’s the only one you didn’t talk to often

you converse with Jun and Minghao about marital arts in Chinese

make jokes with Joshua and Vernon in English

mess around with BooSeokSoon after letting your guard down

helping Mingyu cook for guys who eat more than humanly possible

even Jihoon let his guard down and got comfortable with you after a week

but besides the first confrontation, you and Chan haven’t had a single conversation

it was painfully obvious too

that’s how you end up sitting on the dance floor in silence with Chan

“hey doesn’t dance practice start in five minutes”

he nods, “i have no clue where they are”

both of your phones ding simultaneously

you look down to read a text in the group chat from Soonyoung��

“hey kids, we got hungry so we went out for food, don’t worry we’ll bring stuff back kekeke”

you and Chan make eye contact

neither of you guys were stupid, very aware of their intentions

“yah” you smile at him, “let’s do something fun, make them jealous while they’re eating without us”

he chuckles, grinning mischievously, “and how are we going to do that”

you hop up from the floor, “teach me one of your dances”

he gapes at you, “Soonyoung hyung has been trying to convince you to learn a dance for days what the”

you shrug, winking at him, “Soonyoung who?”

he laughs and starts looking around and throws you one of the bomber jackets lying around at you

“Boom Boom?”

you stand closer to him stare at him confidently through the mirrior

you bite your lip at the thought that goes through your head, ‘we kinda look good together’

shaking that out of your head, you punch his arm lightly, “it’s the middle of June and you’re making me wear a bomber jacket really?”

rolling his eyes, he quietly takes out his phone and starts blasting ‘Boom Boom’

“okay okay once more, na ppaegi neoneun Zero“ he’s standing right in front of you, watching closely as you’re doing his part, moving your hips left and right and you really can’t take his expression seriously “pfffttt”

so when the rest of the members come back, they see you and Chan almost collapsing in laughter

almost

as in Chan is grinning, keeping your giggly self upright with his hands on your waist

“WOAH WOAH WOAH WHAT’S THIS”

“we leave the kids alone for an hour and they’re already making moves”

“kids these days are so grown”

instead of getting embarrassed

you both glare at them, Chan crossing his arms and you putting your hands on your hips

“where’s the food”

some of the members get goose bumps as the two youngest speak in snyc

from then on, you and Chan are inseparable

forget any other loyalties you may have had with the others

you were always there to mess with the members with him

up until then, they honestly had no clue what you were doing there

sure, you were a huge help around their dorm and fun you be with

but most of them forgot you were a bodyguard at all

until there first concert of their World Tour rolls around

and they catch you dressed in fitting dress pants, dress shirt, and blazer, on the side meeting with other guards

watching as you guys salute to each other before they return to their posts and you return to them

“you look so professional”

you lean against the counter next to Chan while all the members are getting their makeup done

you smile tightly, “I take my job seriously”

‘she looks so cool’

he gives you a once over, noticing your hair tucked behind your ear, showing off your earpiece

but the gun strapped on your belt was the most eye catching

“you don’t think it’ll get that serious do you?”

you glance away from your phone for your eyes to meet Chan’s worried ones

softly, you smile, knowing he was worried about his fans

“Yah!” you punch his shoulder lightly, grinning cheerily

“it’s pretty much just for show, cool right!”

he looks conflicted, but still nods, his lips twitching back and forth into a smile

the concert goes smoothly as expected

you and Chan maintain your playful relationship just getting closer each day

but it’s almost midnight as all the members and staff have arrived in Bangkok

of course Seventeen is having a mini slumber party in one room

meaning you have to be there also, watching them talk amongst each other cheerfully

then you get a call

from your father

stepping out casually, the others aren’t suspicious at all

but Chan notices the way your grip on your phone tightens as you read the Caller ID

he watches the door closely, and as 10 minutes past, he voices his concerns

“guys where’s Y/n”

their heads whips towards him

“omo she’s been gone for a while huh”

Seungcheol takes the lead and peaks his head out the door

there’s no one

after the call, you already went down to their managers room

“i need to leave”

he furrows his brows confused as you step into his room

“why?”

you hesitate, “there’s a situation.. and I happen to be very close to it”

“i’ll be back in a few hours”

he sighs, crossing his arms, “it’s midnight”

you smile nervously, “duty calls”

already making your way out the hotel, you habitually bite your lip thinking back to the other members

you wish you could’ve said goodnight

“she went WHERE”

Chan immediately hops up from his place on the floor

their manager shakes his head, “you all just go back to your rooms okay? she’ll be back in the morning”

Chan trudges back to his room with Soonyoung at his side talking his ear off

his heart clenches with worry as his mind wonders to the scenarios he’s imagining

for the first time he realized some day, you were going to be doing something dangerous, top secret

and he would never know

just thinking about you coming back the next morning with even a scratch on your cheek left a weird sting in his stomach

that night, as he stared at the ceiling for an hour before he finally gave into his exhaustion

he drowsily realized

the feelings he felt were definitely not platonic

you grunt as you try sneaking back into your room at 6 am, hurrying to wrap your wrist and cover your bruise before anyone worries

but you halt as your eyes meet Chan’s fiery ones

he moves away from your door that he was leaning against as you silent swipe your card to open it

closing the door behind him, he gently grabs your arm spinning you around

not a single words comes out of your mouths

you’re not sure why you’re like this

if it had been anyone else you would’ve laughed and kicked them out

so you don’t know why you stand still as Chan raises his hand, fingers grazing over your bruise

“are you okay?”

when you step back, his hand limply falls back to his side

the way he stares at you makes it impossible to spill some lie with a cheerful smile on your face

“i’m tired”

you tilt your head down, closing your eyes

delicate finger tips lift your chin up

he flashes a grin, immediately warming your heart

“the members are downstairs eating, let’s hurry before there’s no more food”

the whole day you couldn’t get it out of your head

the way Chan carefully helped you wrap your wrist

your cheek where his fingertips touched burning on your face

the small but meaningful glances you and him shared between the hectic rehearsals

the concert music is blasting through your ears currently

you traded posts with a fellow guard so could have the perfect view of Chan performing his solo

watching as Chan dances with every single ounce of passion in him

there’s a thumping in your chest

that same feeling you felt early this morning

as he finishes his stage, you trade back to your original post

completely unsure about how you could face him now

when what you felt for him was too unprofessional

“why do you keep doing this?”

you’re surprised by the soft tone voice from behind you

glancing at him for just a second,

he has beads of sweat dripping down his face from the performance, probably soon to be wiped off by a makeup noona

you clear your throat, “shouldn’t you be getting an outfit change?”

he raises his brows shrugging, “i still have a good ten minutes”

you don’t reply secretly hoping he’ll go away soon

you don’t know what inclined you to turn back around, knowing he was still there

your eyes lock, making it hard to look away

“why i choose to have this job?”

you laugh airly

“to put it simply, how you feel about your job is how i feel about mine”

“i don’t like seeing you get hurt”

a new wave of emotions comes on you as he takes a step closer

the tension is thick as you both stare into each other’s eyes

his show a glimmer of something you’ve only noticed now

“i like you”

your expression must have made him nervous

“i’m serious, not in the friend way, like I like you, probably when i shouldn’t...”

he trails off looking away from you

you’re speechless

“i-i” you mentally curses at yourself, you don’t stutter

“i like you too”

seeing the smile grow on his face, you can’t help showing your own

he gets called back to the makeup room before the conversation can get any further

he grins knowingly, holding your hand for a second before your fingertips pull away slowly

leaning back against the stadium wall

you can hear the vibrations of the song they were performing

holding in a excited laugh when you hear Chan’s voice

no matter how rough this relationship might be

neither of you were doing down without a fight

MASTERLIST

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tumblingletters · 6 years

Text

Emerald Genesis Chapter 7

“With friends like this who needs enemies?”

- Unknown

Chapter 7: Moving in, Close Calls and Dancing

Shinji was walking to school with Toji and Kensuke.

“Man, did you hear all the talk going around?” Kensuke asked. “All everyone is talking about is Asuka. Asuka. Asuka. Asuka.”

“Yeah, but it is generating great revenue for all those pictures you two are taking of her” Shinji observed.

“But they’re totally clueless” Toji said, “At least her pictures don’t reflect their personality.”

“That reminds me,” Kensuke beamed, “Toji, we need to get to school quick. We got a lot of customers waiting.”

“Right,” Toji said sounding a little listless, “See you there, Shinji.”

“See you.” Shinji waved while the two of them dashed on ahead.

No sooner were they gone that a voice cooed to Shinji that was both lovely and dreadful.

“Halllooooo” The voice called out.

Shinji turned and saw Asuka coming towards him. She was dressed in the blue and white school uniform and her back slung over her shoulder in a very tough-guy sort of pose.

“Guten Morgen, Shinji” she greeted.

“Guten morgen, Asuka,” Shinji greeted back, “dich zu sehen.”

“Not bad, Third Child” Asuka complemented.

“Yeah, the internet is such a fine thing.”

“And you should appreciate your good fortune for talking to the most popular girl in school.” Asuka said this when she came up to Shinji and sharply flicked his forehead with her middle finger.

“I’ll appreciate my good fortune when I win the lottery,” Shinji grunted while he rubbed his forehead.

Asuka ignored Shinji’s quip and immediately changed the subject, “Hey, the other one is here isn’t she?”

“Other one?” Shinji asked.

“What are you? Stupid? I’m talking about the First Child, of course.”

“Ah, Ayanami,” Shinji nodded, “she’s over there.”

He motioned to a bench where the blue haired girl named Rei Ayanami was sitting alone reading a book. Asuka went over to the bench and stood up on a low brick wall. Her shadow blocking Rei’s reading sunlight. She moved herself down the length of the bench to get back into the sunlight and continue to read but Asuka stepped off the low brick wall and stood on the bench overshadowing Rei.

“Hello,” She smirked in her normal arrogant sort of way, “you must be the pilot of the prototype, huh?”

Rei said nothing.

“I’m Asuka. Asuka Langley Sohryu. Let’s be good friends.”

“What for?” Rei asked as flatly as a robot.

“Because it would be convenient, don’t you think?”

“If I’m ordered to do it then I will.”

This response caught Asuka so off-guard that her eyebrows raised and she whispered to herself, “Weirdo.”

“Takes one to know one” Shinji remarked passing the two of them before his cell phone rang.

He picked it up and heard Misato’s voice.

“Shinji,” Misato ordered, “Bring Asuka and Rei to headquarters at once. An angel has been sighted off the Ki’I Peninsula.”

“Got it” Shinji said hanging up his phone and reported to Asuka and Rei, “That was Misato. We got an angel coming in.”

“Wunderva!” Asuka grinned, “Time for my first battle in Japan.”

Shinji only rolled his eyes.

* * *

The Eva’s were dispatched from their launch bays and taken into the air by specially designed carriers that would drop them in on the target like paratroopers. Only Eva’s Unit One and Unit Two were taken. Unit Zero was to stay behind as back-up. While the two of them were in the cockpits of their Eva’s on their way to the intercept point Misato was giving their briefing.

“The recent Angel battle has severely damaged our Angel Intercept System,” Misato explained, “Only twenty-six percent of our defense capability has been restored. In addition, our operational capability for actual combat is virtually nil. Therefore, we’re going to have to intercept the target at the water’s edge right before it makes land. Unit’s one and two will mount a coordinated attack in a series of waves. In other words, close in and take turns.”

“Got it,” Shinji acknowledged.

“This sucks,” Asuka moaned, “my first fight over Japan and she won’t let me handle it solo.”

“Oh, would you get the sand out of your panties and concentrate?” Shinji barked.

“What’d you say, Third Child?”

“Look, this isn’t a field of honor, it’s a war,” Shinji explained, “It’s not about winning medals. It’s about winning battles.”

“Well, let me tell you something, Third Child. Just don’t get in my way.” Asuka huffed, “Really, your selection as a pilot must have been a joke.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you” Shinji quipped.

“I’m so gonna kick your ass when this fight is over.”

“Save that energy for this fight.”

With that the Eva’s were dropped down at the intercept point. They fell to the ground like heavy children’s toys but they didn’t break upon impact. Instead the two of them landed feet first crouching down into the sand with a small cloud rising at their feet. At the same time large utility trucks backed up and gave the Eva’s their weapons.

Looking out to the water they saw a great breech of water like a whale bursting to the surface. Instead, they saw the Angel. The thing was shaped like a man’s body as if it was crafted by a child: no head only a curvature of the shoulders and arms in a downward arc. And two very short legs. In the center of what would be called the “chest” there was a bony circle that was divided like a yin and yang symbol: two holes with an s-shaped crack dividing them.

“Watch and learn, Third Child,” Asuka declared as she had her Eva take its bladed spear and charge directly for the target. “Cover me!”

“Dumbass rookie” Shinji grunted.

Eva Unit Two leapt high into the air like a character out of a Chinese martial arts film, it swung its spear high over its head and brought it cleanly down upon the angel splitting it in half like chicken breasts.

“No way was it that easy” Shinji uttered his skepticism.

“You shouldn’t be so surprised, Third Child,” Asuka strutted, “A battle should be clean and elegant without waste.”

“You really are a marvel, Asuka. You can strut while sitting down.”

“Shinji! Asuka! The target is not dead!” Misato called out through the COM.

The two pilots looked and saw something change in the bony sphere in its chest. It changed from its yin and yang configuration to one of a simple gray sphere with three holes in it like the sockets of a skull. The halves that Asuka had so cleanly cut had begun to move and reshape themselves into twin beings. One was orange and the other was gray. Each one had the bright red core in its chest below the bony circle.

* * *

Asuka and Shinji found themselves back at Headquarters in the debriefing room watching replays of the battle and the aftermath while one of the operators went through a transcript of the battle.

“At ten-fifty-eight and fifteen seconds a.m. Unit One was attacked by Target A which split off the target submerged two kilometers off Suruga Bay. Twenty seconds later, Unit Two was attacked by Target B.”

On the screen the final pictures were of Unit One submerged in water with its legs sticking upward like football goal posts. The same could be said of Unit Two only it was buried in the hills of a nearby farm.

“We have a comment from the chair of Project E.”

Doctor Akagi’s voice boomed out, “THIS IS PATHETIC!”

“At eleven-oh-two a.m. U.N. forces made an attack with an N2 mine. They succeeded in burning off twenty-eight percent of the target’s structure. However, this is a temporary measure. The second attack is only a matter of time.”

“This is your fault!” Asuka accused Shinji, “You totally screwed up my debut battle.”

“Well, can’t say you did much better,” Shinji pointed out, “Thought you were so cool. Watch and learn she says. Well I was watchin’ know what I saw?”

“Now Shinji,” Kaji tried to quell the situation, “there’s no need for that. And at least now we’ve got time to regroup.”

“Alright you two,” Commander Fuyutsuki commanded, “what is your job here at NERV?”

“Piloting the Eva?” Asuka asked sounding very mousy.

“Wrong!” Fuyutsuki bellowed, “It’s to defeat the Angels! NERV does not exist to make grotesque spectacles like this. Therefore, you two will learn to work together!”

“Why should we?” Shinji and Asuka asked in unison.

“Enough!” Fuyutsuki shouted before excusing himself.

After he left Asuka asked Kaji, “Why does everyone get so angry here?”

“Adults have a thing about creditability.” Kaji answered smoothly.

“Hey,” Shinji asked, “Where’s Misato? Shouldn’t she be here with us for this debriefing?”

“She’s clearing things up. It’s the duty of the person in charge to take responsibility if anything goes wrong.”

Shinji winced, “I wouldn’t want to be in her shoes right now.”

* * *

Shinji was walking home in the high heat. He wiped his forehead and noticed how much sweat was coming off of him. It occurred to him that he should take a cold bath once he got home and home was the best part about living in Tokyo-3. It was the one place where he was away from that damn redhead Asuka.

Coming upon the apartment complex that he called “home” he did notice that there was a moving truck with the DHL logo on the side of it driving out of the parking lot. Shinji figured that someone must be moving into the apartment building.

He came to the apartment door, walked in and called out, “I’m home.” But then whispered to himself, “Not that anyone’s home, anyway.”

He was taking his shoes off when he looked up and noticed boxes upon boxes with that DHL logo on them.

“What the hell is all this crap?!” Shinji called out.

“Hey, don’t call my stuff ‘crap’, Third Child.” An all too familiar voice said. “These are my personal belongings.”

He looked and found Asuka Langley Sohryuu leaning nonchalantly against a nearby wall, dressed in a pair of shorts, a yellow tank top, a towel around her neck and drinking Coke.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Shinji demanded.

“And what are you still doing here?” Asuka asked in return.

“Still here?”

“It’s obvious isn’t it? You’ve been replaced by the new model. Misato will be living with me. Of course, that would be the most logical choice when you consider my superior abilities. Although, I’d rather live with Kaji.”

“Sure you would, Lolita. And where’s my stuff?”

“Over there.” Asuka pointed to a box that had Shinji’s stuff piled into it as if it were going to a garage sale.

“Hey, why are Japanese houses so small, anyway?” Asuka asked, “I couldn’t even get half my stuff in my new room. And Japanese sure have no sense of privacy. How can they live in a room without locks?”

“The Japanese way is to consider the needs of others before one’s own.” Misato said stepping up behind Asuka. “And it looks like you two are going to get along just great?”

“What?” Shinji and Asuka asked in unison.

“This is your training,” Misato explained, “You two are going to be roommates.”

“Say what?” They asked again in unison.

* * *

Misato had brought Shinji and Asuka into the dining area and had laid out the briefing to them.

“There is only one way to destroy the seventh Angel,” She began, “execute a simultaneous two point attack on its core while the Angel is separated. In other words, an attack on the two halves by two Evas with perfectly synchronized timing. Coordination between the two of you will be vital to the success of this mission. To that end, I want the two of you to live together from now on.”

“WHAT?!” Asuka bellowed, “A boy and a girl should never sleep under the same roof after the age of seven!”

“And where’d you pull that rule out of?” Shinji asked.

“What’d you say!?” Asuka demanded.

“Quiet!” Misato demanded slamming her fist down on the table in the same authoritarian position as a judge calling order in the court.

Auska and Shinji backed down.

“The Angel is currently regenerating itself,” she explained, “and it will begin its second assault in six days.”

“But it’s…impossible” Asuka moaned in protest.

“We have a way of making it possible.” Misato pulled out a small music disk, “The master attack pattern will be choreographed by using this music. If you use it and work perfectly in sync you will destroy both targets. We begin now and we attack in six days.”

Shinji looked to Asuka. She turned her attention to him and then snapped her look away from him with a very audible, “Hmph!”

* * *

The big room where the television resided had been converted into a training area as well as a sleeping area. The sleeping area mainly consisted of two pillows, two blankets and two bed pads. The training area on the other hand made Shinji think of a game that he played as a young boy: Dance Dance Revolution. There were two pads laid out on the floor that had red dots. Whenever pressure was put upon them the pads would light up. Set up between these two floor pads was a machine similar to a karaoke machine where the music would play. Finally on either side of the karaoke machine were two scoreboards and two traffic lights.

Misato explained the drills, “You will each stand upon one pad. You will try to match your movements to the music via wireless headphones and to when the red circles light up. The scoreboard will tell you how well you’re final synchronization score. The traffic lights will tell you if you’re doing well: green is good, yellow means you’re not doing well and red means you need help.”

Shinji had been in a quiet panic that whole night. It was not only because of the prospect that this detestable redhead was moving into the place that he had considered to be a private sanctum from the rest of his crazy life but it was also the very real possibility that in the course of moving in she may have stumbled upon his Lantern battery. This was why the coordination drills were such a problem because Shinji had trouble concentrating. And if that wasn’t bad enough, each time they failed Asuka would start yelling obscenities at Shinji in German.

After a few hours of this, dinner became an uncomfortably quiet affair. Shinji tried to eat slowly and not make it seem like he was in a rush. Upon finishing dinner and putting his dish into the sink he walked casually to the place that used to be his room. Moving past the stacks of boxes, he got down upon the floor and looked down into the space between the floor and the bed. The lantern was still wrapped up in his old shirt. Breathing a sigh of slight relief he pulled it out from under the bed and out of the shirt before touching his ring to the face of it. After a small flash of green light burst out of the lantern he wrapped it up again and stowed it away beneath his bed. Looking at the ring he clenched his fists and made his own resolution for the situation.

“Hell with Asuka and this plan,” he thought, “I’m going to go defeat the Angel with my ring.”

Upon concentrating, the Lantern’s uniform formed over his body, he opened the window and was about to fly out when he heard a noise outside his door. A hand had reached into the handle and was about to open it. Quickly he retracted the uniform and found Asuka standing there.

“What?” Shinji asked.

“What’re you doing in my room, Third Child?” Asuka demanded.

“Came in to get some stuff that was left behind,” Shinji said with half-truth.

“I saw a green light coming from in here.” She explained.

“Night light.”

Asuka cocked an eyebrow, “Aren’t you a little old for a night light, Third Child?”

“Hey, with all these boxes around here, I’m going to need one so I don’t break a foot or a toe.”

“Whatever. Misato said it’s your turn to do the dishes.” Asuka reported.

Shinji shook his head, “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Yeah, you do that while I go have a bath.”

After Asuka left, he breathed another sigh of relief that she didn’t catch him in the act. He started to wonder if there would even be an opportunity to get away from her so that he could use his ring and defeat the Angel. He went underneath the bed, pulled out the lantern that was wrapped in his shirt and took it out to where his box of stuff was and hid it underneath it all to avoid suspicion.

He came to the kitchen and started to wash the dishes. During the repetitive activity it occurred to him that he would still be in the same situation as before with Asuka that he would still need to coordinate a two-point attack on the Angel and even though he had come a long way on his construct training he wasn’t sure if he could do something like that just yet. Even if he were to attack the Angel in its weakened state, no doubt there would be NERV personnel around keeping an eye on the creature. And to have Shinji show up in a Green Lantern uniform and defeat the Angel would raise far too many problems.

Misato was drinking her beer in her usual gulping manner and smiling after she gave a small belch. Shinji had to smile too because despite the dire situation she still managed to be so carefree.

Then, out of nowhere, there was a high-pitched scream pierced through the air over them. Shinji wanted to look to see where the scream was coming from but he was washing a knife and he knew that if he turned his head there would be the very real risk of him cutting himself. Besides, he knew that the scream belonged to Asuka and he wanted to see how this little incident would turn out. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the plastic hallway curtain was wrenched back and there was Asuka standing stark naked with a look of pure terror on her face.

“There’s some sort of weird creature in the bathroom!” She cried out.

Within a moment of her shock the warm-water penguin had waddled past Asuka as if it wasn’t at all phased by the appearance of this redheaded stranger or her outburst.

“That’s just Pen-pen.” Shinji said setting down the knife he was cleaning and he turned around to find Asuka in her uncensored form. He began to blush when he saw how incredibly beautiful she was. Her skin was so smooth without a single blemish upon it. Her figure was like an hourglass. Then there were her breasts. So pert and perky. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing a girl naked who wasn’t a photograph or a computer image.

Asuka quickly noticed that Shinji was staring. Her face went as red as a beet and she burst into rage with a swift roundhouse kick to the side of his face. Shinji spun and fell over onto his side grasping at the numbing pain in his face.

“You pervert!” Asuka shrieked, “Idiot! Letch! Unbelievable! This is why I hate boys!”

With that she stamped back to the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

After a few moments, Shinji got back to his feet still holding the site of his face where Asuka had hit him. He then went over to the freezer where there was the ice. Grabbing a handful of it he pressed it against his face.

“Honestly, if it weren’t for her attitude she would be cute,” he commented aloud.

“Well, you are getting more honest with each other,” Misato observed.

“Yeah, like the families on Jerry Springer.”

“What?”

“Nevermind.” Shinji shook his head remembering the difference of cultures.

Misato smiled, “I think that’s a good start, wouldn’t you say so, Pen-pen?”

The penguin only squawked.

* * *

During that whole time of training Shinji and Asuka had to do everything together: eat, breathe, train and sleep together. The worst part to Shinji was that he had to dress up in a similar outfit as Asuka. She wore a spandex singlet with a pink shirt over it that had red musical notes over it. Shinji’s, on the other hand, only had a powder blue shirt with green musical notes on it.

Life had continued on like this for three days. From sun-up to sun-down they worked on those pads trying to synchronize their movements to the music. It was just like Dance Dance Revolution to Shinji only he was more used to playing by himself or with someone who was better at the game.

And it was on the third day that events had reached a boiling point.

They were in the middle of training when the doorbell rang but neither one had answered it. They simply continued on with their training going step by step by step. And always messing up and making the machine deliver that awful error noise that had dampened their spirits a little more each time they heard it.

The door opened and they were greeted by their friends: Toji, Kensuke and Hikari who were followed by Rei and Misato.

“What are you two doing?” Hikari demanded.

Shinji and Asuka had answered in unison; “It’s all Misato’s fault. We have to do everything together.”

“It’s true,” Misato explained, “its part of their training.”

“Whew!” Toji exclaimed. “And here I thought you had betrayed us, Shinji.”

“And I thought you two were living in sin,” Hikari expressed her relief. “So how are they coming along?”

“Take a look,” Misato instructed.

Once again, Shinji and Asuka fell out of sync and the machine made that error noise.

“SHEITZ!” Asuka shrieked before throwing her headphones at Shinji, “How can Misato expect me to synchronize with someone like you?”

“Hey, at least I’m trying,” Shinji countered.

“Yeah, you’re trying at losing.” Asuka snapped back.

“Oh yeah?” Shinji countered, “If I’m trying at losing then why are you falling out of sync first?”

Asuka let out a frustrated grunt, “It’s because you’re just useless! No wonder your father abandoned you. Personally, I think you should have been an abortion!”

“Asuka!” Hikari gasped at the atrociousness of her acid tongue.

That was the last straw, Shinji stood up and looked at Asuka in her infuriated blue eyes before he balled up his hand and allowed it to fly against Asuka’s face in the form of an open palm. The crack against her cheek was so audible that it reverberated between the walls of the apartment. The redhead was so thunderstruck that she held her cheek and looked at Shinji dumbfounded by what had happened.

“Apologize,” Shinji demanded.

Within a matter of seconds, Asuka’s eyes narrowed, her eyebrows scrunched together, her lips pulled back into a snarl and her teeth were grinding. That was when Shinji discovered how unprotected he was when Asuka’s leg came swiftly up and landed between his legs. At first he could only feel Asuka’s foot hitting his pubic bone but he could also feel a pair of very soft egg shaped objects between the hardness of Asuka’s foot and his own body. Then the nerves came back online and the surge of pain went from Shinji’s groin and shot upward into his abdomen. He doubled over and fell to his knees. The pain was at such intensity that he could barely hear Asuka scream “I can’t take this anymore!”

“Asuka!” Hikari called out.

“Wow,” Toji observed, “that must have really hurt.”

“Shinji!” Hikari hissed at the injured boy, “Go apologize to Asuka! You hit her and made her cry!”

“Why should I?” Shinji wheezed trying to work his way through the pain.

“Yeah, leave him alone class rep. He got kicked in the balls. Let him recover before you bust them a second time.”

“I think all of you should be going for now,” Misato said.

“Sure,” Kensuke agreed, “Come on everyone. Let him recover.”

With that, the three of them had left.

Misato came to Shinji’s side and helped him roll over onto his back.

“I’ll get you some ice,” She said sounding like a concerned nurse.

Within moments she came back with an ice bag that she carefully laid between Shinji’s legs. She sat down next to the boy while the coolness of the ice cubes soaked through his singlet and soothed his ache.

“I’ll call Ritsuko for your injury,” Misato said. “But I do think that Hikari is right that you should apologize to Asuka. But then again I think she should also apologize to you. Not for what you did to each other but because you both need to work as a team.”

“What if she doesn’t want to work as a team?” Shinji grunted.

“Then I’ll just have to switch operations to have you work with Rei.” Misato answered.

The moment that she said that the door to the big room was thrown open and Asuka cried out, “NO! YOU CAN’T! YOU BITCH!”

Shinji looked and guess that Asuka was there the whole time but then she slammed the door and he heard the front too open and shut as well.

“Oh no,” Misato exhaled, “Looks like we might have to switch to Rei.”

“Nah,” Shinji grunted rolling over to his side and getting to his feet but still bending forward as if he were a crippled old man in need of his cane. “I’ll go apologize to her.”

Going out the front door and getting his shoes Shinji wondered why he was doing it. The girl was such a bitch to him and pretty much everyone else. Not to mention the damage that she did to Shinji’s potential future children but something compelled him to go forward and find her. After getting his street shoes on he went out to the balcony and found Asuka dashing down the street towards a corner convenience store.

* * *

The walk to the convenience store was a long one given how Shinji had to basically hobble his way from the apartment to the elevator and to the corner convenience store. Thankfully, Asuka was still there, she was crouching down in front of an open refrigerator section. He wasn’t entirely sure of it when he approached her but he thought he heard Asuka quietly sobbing.

He had hoped to approach her quietly but it was as if she could have heard him coming the moment he stepped out of the apartment when she said to him, “Don’t say anything.”

Shinji said nothing.

“I know that you’re sorry.”

“Took the words out of my mouth,” Shinji responded.

“But I will tell you something else,” She said upon standing up, “I’m going to put Rei and Misato to shame!”

“Why? We’re all on the same team.”

“You’re being too simple even for a male. It’s my pride and honor that’s at steak can’t you understand that?”

“Somewhat. But I hope the people will understand if we fail.”

“We won’t fail.”

And so the training continued.

* * *

It was the final day. The attack would be the next morning. Shinji and Asuka had both been training hard day in and day out until at last the two of them had reached perfect scores on that infernal training machine. There was such relief on both their parts when they had finally reached perfection with the drills and they could finally relax.

On the night before the attack Asuka had come out of the shower wrapped in a towel and a second towel on her head.

“Where’s Misato?” She asked Shinji.

“At work,” Shinji answered from the big room where he was lying on his small cot of a bed. He had one earbud still playing the same song he heard for the past six days. “She called earlier and said she’d be there all night.”

Asuka grinned, “So that means we’re all alone tonight, huh?”

Shinji rolled over to look at Asuka still wrapped in her towel.

“I would get into that with you,” he said in jest, “But I’m still recovering from that kick you gave me.”

“Aw, poor baby,” Asuka said making a mockingly soothing tone, “Would you like me to bring you a glass of warm milk and a teddy bear before going sleepy-bye?”

“Sure, and a sponge bath would be nice too.”

“Hmph!” Asuka said.

She gathered up her blanket, bedding and pillow and crossed over to the next room but before closing the door she stared down at Shinji.

“This door here is the Wall of Jericho, Third Child.” She stated, “And if you cross it, you’re a dead man. Now time to go to bed, children.”

* * *

Shinji slept with his MP3 player playing that one song over and over again like a student making last minute studying before the exam in the morning. It must have been during the middle of the night when he heard some rustlings from Asuka who went to the bathroom. He paid it no mind and tried to sleep but then he was woken by a heavy thud in front of him.

He opened his eyes and found Asuka sleeping in front of him. She was wearing a simple loose yellow shirt that had such a low cut to the neck that he could easily look down and see the curvature of her breasts once again. He wondered if she was awake or not. That was when he decided to play a small trick on her to get her back for the groin kick.

He leaned himself closer to her and decided to wake her up with a small kiss. His heart raced so much that he could feel it beating within his ears and then there was his own arousal fueled by what his eyes saw and his own male hormones. Even though he wasn’t even attracted to this bitch of a girl he couldn’t help his own arousal.

There was only an inch left when he stopped. He saw a trickle of a tear rolling from her closed eyes down her nose and to her cheek. Her lips were moving as well. At first they only moved but no sound came out. On the second time that they moved, Shinji heard Asuka’s voice in a low murmur that sounded so vulnerable and child-like:

“Mama…mama…”

Shinji only smiled while he pulled back and rolled over, “So, there is a human being in there after all.”

* * *

“The target has broken through the final defense line at Gora,” One of the Nerv Operators had reported over the communications channel.

Shinji was sitting in the cockpit of his Eva, his stomach in knots about whether or not this fight would succeed or not. He looked down at the emerald ring on his right hand and thought to himself that if all else fails he would use the ring to fight the enemy. But it would have to be his last resort.

“Here it comes,” Misato stated over the COM and added with true conviction, “we won’t fail this time. Now then, Asuka. Shinji. Spread your AT fields as soon as the music starts then follow the operation choreography. Are you two ready?”

“Ready!” Asuka and Shinji said in unison.

“The target has entered the mountains,” An operator reported.

“Full power and maximum speed, got it, Shinji?” Asuka had asked.

“I know,” Shinji answered rather annoyed, “We’ll be finished in sixty-two seconds.”

“Target is entering ground zero,” The operator reported.

“Detatch external power cables,” Misato ordered.

TIME REMAINING: 00:01:10

“Eva launch!” Misato ordered.

And with that order the Evas had launched to the surface and the music began. The two flew into the air with the same grace that would have rivaled ballet dancers or gymnasts. In perfect unison they threw down their weapons at the angel who then split apart into the same two halves that had humiliated them only six days previous. They made their attacks with gun weapons without causing any damage to the target but damage was not the goal in this part of the operation. Only to draw the targets attention which they both did when they began to fire volleys at Unit One and Unit Two. To this both Evas retreated backward doing one backflip over the other.

TIME REMAINING: 00:00:32

The two Evas hid behind a large steel wall that popped up out of the street. It protected them from one of the angels’ attacks. They came out from behind it firing another set of rifle shots at them. But the angels retaliated by slicing through the steel wall like scissors through tissue paper. The Evas retreated momentarily while a barrage of missile attacks launched from hidden cannons within the buildings and mobile U.N. armaments stationed in the nearby hills.

With the angel distracted the Evas came up and gave them both a swift uppercut and a good roundhouse kick which sent the monster flying backward and combining itself back into one body again. That was when the Evas flew up and came down upon the target each with one foot out aiming at their red cores.

The foot of Unit One and Two made contact and made a shoving slide against the Angel towards the hill like a baseball player sliding towards home plate.

TIME REMAINING: 00:00:05

The cores were damaged and with only one second on the clock they both exploded. The operation was a swift and almost flawless success. At least that’s how it looked to those who were watching the battle deep inside NERV. They all watched the light of the explosion fade away and the dust settling around the crater where the Angel was defeated but to their embarrassment they found Unit One and Unit Two lying on top of each other.

It was a mystery to Shinji when he found Unit Two lying across the back of Unit One. He managed to climb out of the Entry Plug but he stopped when he heard a phone ringing. Looking to where it was coming from he saw part of the Eva opening up and there was a simple phone receiver sitting upon a plastic base.

He picked it up, “Hello?” He asked wondering who was calling him.

“YOU JERK!” Asuka’s voice screamed at him, “What’re you doing under my Unit Two!?”

Shinji’s eyes went wide with surprise when he saw a holographic projection of Asuka’s upper body projecting out of the phone receiver’s base. He had often heard of holographic phones but this was the first time of seeing it but his amazement took a backseat to being yelled at by Asuka.

“Hey, you fell on me!” Shinji yelled back.

“You’re the one who lost timing first, Dumpkoft!” Asuka spat back, “You’re really slow. What were you doing last night?”

“I was image training for today’s battle!”

“Liar! I know you tried to kiss me while I was sleeping!”

“You were awake!?”

“MEIN GOTT! I was just kidding! Did you really kiss me?!”

“No! I didn’t!”

“Pervertieren! Lechzen! Teufel! I can’t believe you!”

If either one could have seen the faces of those who were watching the whole scene at NERV’s operation center they would also see their director shaking his head and saying how these kids were embarrassing the organization again.

Next time:

Carrol’s Voice: NERV decides to try to capture an unhatched Angel inside an active volcano. So they send in a specially outfitted Eva into the depths of Hell itself.

Misato’s voice: And don’t worry there will be lots of fan service.

Carrol’s Voice: Aren’t we being gratuitous with that?

Misato’s voice: Shut up. The fans love it.

Neon Green Evangelion: Chapter 8 – Into the Fire

#Evangelion #Green Lantern #Fan Fiction #Evangelion fan Fiction #Evangelion Fanfiction #evangelionfanfiction #Green Lantern Fan Fiction #Green Lantern fanfiction #GreenLanternfanfiction #SFW #Shinji #Shinji Ikari #Asuka Langley Sohryuu #Crossover #Fusion #Crossover Fan Fiction #Fusion Fan Fiction #ClassicCowboy #tattooalchemist

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saythename17scenarios · 7 years

Text

prince seventeen | junhui

- prince junhui… is a bit of a troublemaker - he’s always going around pranking guards, dancing wildly in the ballroom and hiding in trees to avoid meetings - he’s had hundreds of marriage proposals, but he rejected them all because he’s not ready for commitment and he wants to find love himself, not have it handed to him - these proposals came in like a flood when news spread that he broke off an arranged marriage which was planned since his birth - he broke it off WITHOUT telling the king and queen and they’re just so done with him because he drives them crazy - “junhui do you realize what you’ve done?? now our kingdoms will never unite!!” - “ok but….. they were so not my type” - the villagers all know about this troublesome prince because junhui likes to go around the village when avoiding his responsibilities - he helps the people with every day chores, whether it’s simple things like helping them carry groceries or even big things like helping them fix a broken wagon - they believe a good ruler is someone who knows their people, so they do believe that junhui will be a good king someday - junhui’s also really smart, like he knows himself that he can memorize the laws of the kingdom in like a week and he’d probably be able to negotiate trades and new laws with the neighboring kingdoms if he wanted to - the problem is just that it doesn’t really interest him so he’s like nope - you can find him taking a nap in the trees to avoid these responsibilities - he’s also really gifted in archery and playing the piano which are pretty much the only two things that he would willingly do - basically, prince junhui just wants a simple life, but that’s not possible when you’re expected to inherit the throne soon - the king and queen are afraid that junhui won’t be able to learn the responsibilities and duties of a king in time, so in a panic, they hire you from another kingdom, who’s a teacher for royalty - you are to teach junhui how to behave like an actual prince - you’ve heard all about him so you’re like no way will he listen to me, a stranger, if he won’t even listen to you, the king and queen - but they tell you that junhui’s past teachers have all left without being able to teach him and they really need your help - you’re known for being one of the greatest teachers in the land so they believe in you and they even decided to increase your pay so you were like…… ok sign me up LOL - day one, the first thing on your list is to actually get him to study the laws of the kingdom - you’re supposed to meet junhui in the library, but when you get there, you see him laughing as he’s going from one bookshelf to the other on one of those rolling ladders - you’re like THAT LOOKS SO FUN but the king and queen are right behind you so you can’t even laugh about it - the queen clears her throat and at that, junhui slides down the ladder and says “oh whoops, i forgot i can’t do that when you’re around lol” - you turn your head to look at the king and queen and they just give you a look that says “do you see what we mean?” - junhui walks over to you and asks “and you are??” - you bow and say “i’m (name), it’s nice to meet you, prince junhui.” - the king says “(name) will be your teacher starting today. they’ll be teaching you the responsibilities of a prince. it’s about time you learn how to behave.” - after a quick goodbye, the king and queen leave you and junhui alone, who looks so ready to climb the ladder again and roll from one book shelf to the other - but you step in front of him and say “if you haven’t figured it out, lessons start today. take a seat.” - he says “can’t we take a break just for today??” and you say “um we can’t take a break if we didn’t even start?? sit down.” - junhui takes a seat on one of the desks in the library, and you take a seat next to him, slapping the huge law book on the table - you sit next to him and say “alright, we’re going to go through the first chapter today. we’ll take things slow until—are you listening?” - it’s been like two minutes and junhui’s already dozing off you’re like are you kidding me?? - junhui says “can we study somewhere else?? i mean…. i know the library’s the ideal study place, but it’s so gloomy in here….. it doesn’t motivate me to study” - you cross your arms and ask “oh really? where would you rather study then?” - junhui jumps out of his seat and holds out a hand for you to take and says “let’s head down to the ballroom!” - you raise an eyebrow and ask “…ballroom?” and junhui says “yeah!! it’s a wide, open space that’s always so bright because of the sun!! let’s study there!!” and he nudges his hand for you to take - you look down at his hand and push it away, saying “i’m pretty sure i can get there without having to hold your hand, junhui” and junhui is shocked because wow ANYONE would die just for a chance to hold his hand - while walking towards the ballroom, he notices “hey wait!! you dropped the “prince”!!” - you sassily say “you’re my student, so if i want to drop the “prince”, i’ll drop it” - he has on a smirk on his face after hearing your words because you know what?? you’re pretty interesting….. - you get to the ballroom, and your mouth falls open in awe because he wasn’t kidding when he said it was a wide, open space with the sun shining through the windows - you turn to him and say “so is this better for you??” and he says “muuuch better” - junhui gets some servants to set up a desk in the ballroom (they were like um what. but you know, whatever prince junhui says) - while waiting for them, you take this chance to walk over to the grand piano sitting near the corner of the room - junhui notices this and sits on the bench, saying “i know how to play a bit, do you want to hear??” and with a straight face, you say “we have some studying to do” - but he says “i know, but while we’re waiting for the desk and chairs, let me play a little something for my wonderful teacher” and you roll your eyes at this - his fingers run across the keyboard, hitting the black and white keys, and you’re actually so…. amazed by his talent….. and he’s playing a song that sounds so familiar - before you know it, you’re singing along and junhui almost messes up because your voice is so beautiful - the servants all enter the room to find you both by the piano and they just kind of look at each other like ohhhh this is going to be the start of something new isn’t it? - when the song ends, junhui softly asks “would you…. sing again?” - your face turns red upon realizing what just happened and you say “uhhh sorry nope, we have some work to do” - the prince just looks up at you with a soft expression and asks “one more time?” and this gives you an idea - you tell him “you know what? how about a deal? memorize two chapters in the law book and i’ll sing for you as you play the piano again” - and junhui LOVES the idea, you’re nothing like his past teachers who were too serious to even have a decent conversation with….. - he says “two chapters? psh that’s nothing, i’ll get those done in two seconds” - the servants cough behind you, and when you turn around, they have the desks and chairs all set up - junhui thanks the servants and takes a seat, saying “well hurry up then!! let’s get to work” and you’re like hmm well that was easier than i thought - since then, you’ve been making deals with junhui to get him to study or learn anything required of a prince - “i’ll teach you sword-fighting if you attend that meeting” - “i’ll teach you horse-back riding if you study these chapters” - “i’ll teach you martial arts if you attend that royal event” - junhui always does what you tell him to because he at least has something to look forward to by the end of it - by that, you think he means that you’re going to be teaching him something he actually wants to do, but no….. - they’re just excuses to see your smile every time he gets a question right, to hear that you’re proud of him and believe that he’s going to be a good king one day….. those are what he looks forward to the most - and eventually….. junhui starts doing things without having to make deals with you - after another day of teaching, the king and queen ask for you and they thank you nonstop because junhui has been behaving like an actual prince and he’s thoroughly informed of all that’s going on in the country thanks to your help - the queen says that he really is fit for the role of king now, but you say “your majesty, he always was” - the next day, you tell junhui that you guys are taking a day off of studying as reward for his hard work - junhui says “a day off?? so do i get to pick what we do??” and you say “oh yeah sure, what do you have in mind??” - he says “we’re going to the village” but you say “THE VILLAGE?? BUT YOU CAN’T—” and junhui says “SH!!! i’ve been there a couple of times before, don’t worry” and you’re like omg so this isn’t the first time?? - you both sneak past guards and junhui senses your nervousness, so he tells you “don’t worry, a few of them know about me sneaking out, they’ll cover for us” - when you get to the village, you’re so amazed to find out that EVERYONE knows him - he’s greeting the bakers and the merchants, helping others with simple things like setting up their stands and other kind gestures - he buys you humble pies and bread from bakeries, and shows you around, telling you stories about the people and himself - you’ve never seen a prince or royalty for that matter caring for their people as much as junhui - but what warms your heart the most is seeing him interact with the little children - the kids are all climbing up his shoulders or asking to be carried by him or asking him to play ball with them, and you laugh at the sight because it’s so cute how happy he looks around the children - and in that moment….. you know you’ve fallen for junhui - one of the little girls sees you smiling at him and she points at you and asks “prince junhui!! who are they?? are they your s/o??” - all the kids then turn in your direction and you can feel your face BURNING at her question - junhui just smirks at you and says “if they’d accept me” and you’re like “JUNHUI I SWEAR” - but he just laughs and tells the kids that it’s time to go home because it’s sunset and it’ll be dark soon - while walking back to the palace, you say “junhui…. how often do you go to the village?” - junhui shrugs and says “i go whenever i can, i usually sneak off when my parents are out of town or in a meeting” - you ask “why do you go there?” and junhui hesitates before continuing “the villagers, they….. make me feel like i’m part of a family” - you ask “what do you mean?” and he answers “i mean…. i know my parents are busy ruling the kingdom and all, but…. they left me all alone” - you stay quiet and he says “do you know why i’m such a troublemaker?? it’s so that they’d notice me. before that, i was all alone. they actually started talking to me when i did crazy things. it took all this to get their attention.” - junhui continues “if i did what i was told from the start aka act like an actual prince, i’d be ignored because i’d be doing exactly what they wanted. for once…. i wanted them to think of me.” - after hearing his story, you hold out a hand for him to take, just like how he held out his on the first day of meeting you - you smile up at him, and with a smile as well, he takes your hand and you both walk back to the palace holding hands - neither of you say word….. your hand in his is enough to tell him that everything’s all right - the next morning, you and junhui meet up in the ballroom, but the desk you both usually study on is nowhere in sight - junhui asks “uhhh are we going to be sitting on the floor or what??” and you say “no, today’s lesson is ballroom dancing” - he repeats “ballroom dancing??” and you say “that’s right. is there a problem?? trust me, if you can do that painful martial arts-looking dancing, you can do this” - you get into position, placing junhui’s hand on your waist while the other is holding your hand - you place a hand on his shoulder and say “okay, you lead. look down at my feet for a second, these are the steps….” - junhui steps on your feet a couple of times, but he’s a fast learner so he perfects it quickly and you guys are gliding across the ballroom before you know it - he says “hmm it’s a bit boring without any music…..” and you say “i agree, should we call the musicians??” - junhui shakes his head and says “no….. instead…. i’d rather listen to you sing” - and you do, you sing softly as you and junhui dance across the room and near the end of the song, junhui slows his pace and looks into your eyes as he moves closer and closer - you manage to sing the last few words of the song before closing your eyes - and in that ballroom, right then and there….. you and junhui kiss - but you can’t believe how bad the timing is because….. tomorrow’s your last day…. you have to leave - when you pull away, you’re about to say it, but somehow, junhui knows - he says “don’t go. stay here…. with me.” - you know that he’s a prince and that a love story between you two could never be, but….. you want to take this chance - you ask “but junhui… aren’t you supposed to date royalty?” - he just pulls you closer and smirks “when have i ever followed the rules?” - and you just laugh as he kisses you again - the servants who have been shipping you from the start smile at the scene because finally….. it’s been so long since they’ve seen prince junhui truly happy

#seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #wen junhui #jun #IT'S FINALLY HERE #I LOVE HIM GUYS

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the-jla-watchtower · 7 years

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Things We Learned About Black Panther

This is just a gathering of interesting quotes surrounding Black Panther, after Mrvel opened up their offices and invited reporters to the editing bay for “Black Panther”. Some of these will be multiple interpretations of the same scenes.

The Walking Dead's Danai Gurira, who plays Okoye, a leading member of the Dora Milaje (the all-female royal guard), said she sees the film as "Wakanda’s origin story.” She also called the film a "powerful universal story that feels really on the pulse of where we are right now as a whole society." [IGN]

True to the source material, the film will focus heavily on the country of Wakanda, and its unique combination of technological advancement — powered by the country’s natural reserves of the metal vibranium — and low-tech tradition. [The Verge]

“I saw the first footage of Angela Bassett as Ramonda, the actress resplendent in a shimmering honey robe with an enormous headpiece that would send every Sunday church lady home to start over.” [Vulture]

The costumes in Black Panther—especially the ones worn by the Dora Milaje—are truly dazzling, with a lot of bright colors and elaborate patterns. Angela Bassett, as T’Challa’s mother and Queen of Wakanda, sports a jaw-dropping coiffure of snow-white dreadlocks. [Vanity Fair]

In the rough cut of this Black Panther scene, we see Gurira’s Okoye and Kasumba’s Ayo swaying rhythmically back in formation with the rest of their team. Okoye eyes Ayo flirtatiously for a long time as the camera pans in on them. Eventually, she says, appreciatively and appraisingly, “You look good.” Ayo responds in kind. Okoye grins and replies, “I know.” [Vanity Fair]

The first dailies we watched showed a hooded Nakia (Lupita Nyong'o) using martial arts to sneak up on and take out some soldiers as another large group of troops are engaged in a firefight. We then saw the Dora Milaje sailing to Warriors Falls for the king’s coronation. There was drums, music, singing and dancing on the boat. There was the following playful exchange between Gurira's Okoye and Kasumba's Ayo: "You look good.” “You look better.” “I know.” [IGN]

Portraying Nakia, a member of Dora Milaje, the king’s female bodyguards, Oscar winner Lupita Nyong’o gets her hands dirty in a scene where she single-handedly takes down a group of armed assailants in the jungle. [Entertainment Weekly]

We then saw T’Challa (Boseman) making his entrance to the Warrior Falls, two different angles of the same sequence following T'Challa as he steps out from a ship and into the water. He's shirtless with his chest and shoulders painted, and he carries a ceremonial weapon. Traditionally garbed Wakandans cheer for their new leader in the stands above him. We then saw Forest Whitaker’s character Zuri approach T'Challa in the water and declare, “The prince will now have the power of the Black Panther!” [IGN]

From the footage here's what we know about Black Panther: Chadwick Boseman may be playing the King of Wakanda, but there's no way his T'Challa is the only star of this movie — the warrior women of Black Panther are going to be its vibrant force. [Mashable]

And make no mistake: The Dora Milaje do plenty of heavy lifting in the film. From concept art hanging on an office wall to VFX shots in the sizzle reel to Nyong'o taking out a half-dozen armed soldiers in a scene shot earlier Monday, we got eyeful after eyeful of the Dora Milaje on duty. [Mashable]

Not all of what we saw of the Dora Milaje combat — we also got to see them presiding over a kaleidoscopic yet solemn ceremony to crown a new, untested king. That scene was a distinct diversion from the film's palette: a bold, contrast-heavy black & white world punctuated with dabs of reds and golds. All the gravity afforded a royal saga is in the designs, including tech and architecture — jagged but fleet flying machines and glittering, steely spires — and it all fits the mood of majestic mystery. [Mashable]

We were also informed that the first Black Panther trailer will drop this summer [IGN]

**There was some stuff about Klaw but..... I wasn’t interested in him**

#Black Panther #T'challa #Dora Milaje #Lupita Nyong'o #danai gurira #marvel #comics #chadwick boseman

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ellebeebee · 7 years

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Day 3 -- Dreams

Okay, so this one is a doozy at nearly 6,000 words, but Huan just had a lot to say. Also, let’s suspend disbelief that her actions (of a violent nature according to some interpretations) would not have gotten her kicked off the Isle on the first night.

Huan, a descendant of a traditionally martial family, had only one desire in coming to the Summit. She has lived her whole life honing a discipline in her family’s style of swordsmanship, and has never become the type of scholar that has the best opportunity for rising within Jiyel’s ranks. Still, she is extremely determined to fulfill her dream.

5,954 words, jiyel!mc, no pairing, there’s a lot of General Falon in this so if you are anti-Falon look elsewhere, lol, general rating

Huan centered herself, moving her ego aside with the image of sweeping smooth a sand tray-- the exercise Master Gan had been so fond of, and was meant to open the self to a truer perception of the world. It was almost an impossible task, though, with these maids fluttering like sparrows around her. Not the butler, though. Jasper. She could sense from him a near mastery of the upper and deeper selves. She was impressed. She would have to ask him who his master had been.

Not now, though. Now, she must forgo her human turmoils. She must forget herself and the now just as they tried to hone and highlight the individual called Huan with their silks and cosmetics.

She breathed deep.

“Are you upset, my lady?” Ria asked worriedly. “Do you want something changed?”

Huan stared at the girl. And apparently the stare was an inappropriate response or went on for too long or something, because the maid was looking to Jasper with mild alarm.

“I was eliminating my ego,” Huan told her.

Ria’s jaw dropped before her training and Jasper’s pointed look reminded her to nod pleasantly at such a statement.

In short order, the servants had her painted and dressed up properly, and they bustled her out the door.

As Huan faced the double doors into the great hall, she steeled herself. This was the moment she had been waiting for ever since she’d been told she was going to the summit. In fact, it had been the moment she’d dreamed of ever since she’d been a little girl, sitting at her grandmother’s feet and listening to tales of her ancestors.

Hers was a martial family, each member raised in the skills of the fighting arts. The Way of the Sparrowhawk was the ancestral school of her clan, a style of swordsmanship as articulated and choreographed as the most exacting dances. Its secrets and skills had been closely guarded for centuries. And no member of her family had been a truer representation of their way than Huan’s great-grandfather, Rhoen.

Thinking of her great-grandfather, and her purpose in coming here, Huan pushed open the door into the hall.

She did not see him at first. The man whom she was sure she was destined to meet here. As Huan gazed around sharply, several obstacles interrupted her path. Delegates with strange declarations of love and hate. She handled these as best she could-- which was not well all things considered. But she handled them and continued her search.

The hall was filled with people in their unwieldy gowns and suits, moving about with their unwieldy limbs and soft bodies. Some were not so soft, and Huan filed these faces away for later. Now, she must find him. She was determined to fulfill her dream, her duty.

And then she saw him.

She felt her brows draw in and her face stiffen, the stiffness trickling down to the rest of her form. Huan forced herself to relax. Anxiety, anger-- any strong emotion was as deadly to the martial artist as any stray blade. She calmed herself and refound her center.

Huan breathed, schooling her lungs in the pattern she needed now. She let her distracting thoughts dissipate like smoke, and she slipped into the basic form for offensive action like a koi surfacing and diving beneath a pond’s silky skin.

And at the exact moment-- the very precise intersection of fate and timing-- when the many paces filled with the slow moving delegates, passing and dancing in their games of useless chatter, between Huan and him cleared-- the moment, the only moment there would be like this, like an alignment of the stars-- that moment, Huan tensed her feet and in the same instant launched herself thirty paces to lash at her target.

Ice Cracking in Spring. A good move to test the waters. But, just as she knew would be the case, he easily leaped away from her crashing palm. A vase standing on a marble pedestal was not so lucky.

A lady shrieked as the vase and pedestal shattered violently. Gasps and alarmed silence filled the hall. Huan ignored it all, facing her opponent in the traditional stance of challenge.

“As a disciple of Sparrowhawk and a descendant of the master Rhoen,” Huan stated calmly, “I will redress an insult made by Geda of Mountain Fire, your ancestor. Do you accept my challenge, General Falon?”

Murmurs followed her statement. The middle-aged man across from her had already recovered his stance, and gazed at her in consternation. Around them, whispers sprouted like weeds. Huan ignored it all, feeling all of her sharpness and intensity welling in her gaze on the chaperone. At the edge of her perception, she sensed the soft steps of approaching servants who stopped at a single glance from Falon.

The general turned back to her.

“No,” he said, shortly and firmly.

Huan paused. She cleared her throat.

“As a disciple of Sparrowhawk and a descendant of Rhoen--”

“I heard you the first time,” Falon barked.

“Then you’re obligated to accept!” Huan snapped back.

She had not foreseen this. It just didn’t happen. Members of the martial world in Jiyel competed with one another constantly. Challenges, if reasonable, must always be answered. There was no law saying so, of course, but to shirk a challenge was simply shameful. Especially if the challenge is meant to redress a perceived wrong. It was a matter of honor.

“As a disciple of Sparrowhawk--”

“I said no,” the general practically shouted. “Look around you, this is not the practice yard.”

“I’ll let them move out of the way--”

“No,” Falon stated in a tone clearly meant to be final. “You are disgracing our nation. The summit is meant to achieve international harmony. Not satisfy personal vendettas from over a century ago.”

He studied her, his great black brows drawn down. She stared back stubbornly. He sighed.

“But it is not honorable for me to deny your request. We will spar at a later time.”

Instantly, Huan felt her face light up, but quickly stifled her natural reaction behind a serious nod. She snapped into a respectful bow, as a younger warrior to a master. Falon returned his own bow. And with that, the silence was gradually broken and the hiss of gossip and tittering renewed.

Huan was pulled aside before the delegates were released to the formal dinner, and Jasper gave her a thorough dressing down over her actions. Dangerous, unbecoming of a lady, and impolite. Nearly worth sending her home over. Huan took it stoically; she was used to getting told off by tutors and her family. It would be worth it in the end.

A few days later, Falon was stewing in silent resentment and his own manly fortitude. Princess Jaslen and young Lady Avalie had somehow roped him into a garden tea. The table was full of chirping young women, fragile flowery china, and little cakes. Jaslen had convinced him his attendance was beneficial to the summit, so he had stayed. But Falon was hard put to find how debating the merits of white or brightly colored petticoats would ever prevent war. In fact, the most exciting thing to happen to this garden party was the introduction of Jaslen’s nephew and that pirate prince, and the subsequent wave of giggling (giggling) that washed over the table.

And so, it was perhaps with a touch more relief than annoyance that Falon found himself one moment holding a teacup and the next-- the teacup quietly exploding with clinking slivers of porcelain and lukewarm tea falling into his lap. A stick-- an ordinary little twig-- spun around on his saucer sitting on the table.

And then, beside the silver teapot and the delicate tiered tray of cakes, there were two feet. The table’s chatter broke into little alarmed screams and gasps as the young women pushed away, some falling over their chairs and skirts. Falon looked up to glower at Huan, the last minute delegate from Jiyel, standing on the tea table in the stance of challenge. She glowered back.

“As a disciple of Sparrowhawk--”

“Young lady,” Falon barked. “You-- This is not the time--”

“Now, now,” Prince Zarad said, tone dripping in amusement. He sipped at his tea, calmly seated with his long limbs casually tossed about. “General, you did make a promise to Lady Huan, did you not?”

“Yes, and what sort of example would you make to us delegates of Jiyel if you did not uphold one of our greatest virtues?” Lady Avalie mused over a plate of finger sandwiches. “Honor, my lord General. Is not honor worth your consideration?”

Falon spluttered. “On a tea table? In front of--” He trailed off, gesturing at the young women who stood about slack-jawed and half-witless.

“Oh, the table can be moved,” Hamin of Hise said lightly.

“And these are not ordinary ladies,” Zarad added, winking at the group of girls. “They are noblewomen of stiff character who would certainly not shy away from a display of Jiyel’s greatest skills. They have the good taste to appreciate such artistry, no?”

One of the girls recovered herself to smile back at the Corvali prince. “Of course, your highness. We would be delighted for such a diversion.”

“Yes,” Princess Jaslen exclaimed, popping up. “It should be such a divine show! Come, General. Be a dear.”

Falon had half a mind to balk again; martial skills were not meant for ‘shows’ or ‘diversions.’ They were serious disciplines that took a lifetime of dedication to master. But he was not so old or so distant from the happenings of the martial world to be immune to the fire of a challenge. Huan was right. He was obligated to accept, and although he aimed to achieve international harmony, he could not bear it if he went home with personal disgrace.

He stood, and met Huan’s gaze. She smoothly pulled into a bow, and he bowed in return.

The tables and chairs and china were whisked away, and Huan of Sparrowhawk and Falon of Mountain Fire faced one another.

They bowed again, and as Huan smoothly poured herself into a stance of offense, she gazed back at him. For Falon, her eyes recalled a time before his service to the king, before the military exams. The endless hours of devotion to your school’s teachings, the burning ambition and the faith in one’s potential. The general planted his feet and brought his palms up.

“I will defeat you within a hundred movements,” Huan stated calmly, her breathing tranquil and deadly.

Despite himself, Falon grinned. Huan of the Sparrowhawk had some nerve. The general had not gotten to where he was on military tactics alone. He was widely regarded as the best warrior of his generation, and only three people of the previous generation had defeated him. The best, Master Nenne of the Black Cloud, had forced him into submission at the hundred and fourteenth movement. And Huan, no matter her skill, was too young to be anywhere near Master Nenne.

But it did remind him of his own boasts as a youth.

Lady Avalie took on the role of officiator. As the tension and intent bloomed between the two opponents, and the silence spread out into the far reaches of the sunny garden, Avalie smiled charmingly at all. Slowly, she raised her hands before her, slipped back her sleeves to bare her slim fingers and-- crack went her hands with the commencement clap.

Huan flew.

She was fast. Falon had already known that from her whipfire attack during the welcome feast. He’d been able to see it in her light build and the way certain muscles in her legs were defined. He’d known it, yet it was another thing to endure the endless barrage of blows from dagger-like fingers.

Ice Cracking in Spring. Bamboo Thicket in a Gale. Diving on Prey.

Relentlessly, without pause, Huan attacked while Falon defended. It was not that he couldn’t attack (although if he had not maintained his form over the years, even he would be hard-pressed by her speed); it was the difference in their strengths. Huan was light and fast; Falon heavier and far stronger. If she wanted to avoid a blow from him, she had no choice but to press him as hard as she could. And if he did not time his blow (and it would certainly come, he was already sure of it) she would strike a touch. With the way her flashing palms hit his defense in all the correct moments and places, he knew even her small strength on a precise spot could cripple him.

Unacceptable. He had not gotten to where he was, respected by His Majesty and regarded as a great military mind, just to be shown up by some upstart Sparrowhawk with a chip on her shoulder.

At the thirty-third movement-- her Lynx Spinning over Scree against his Birch Sapling Bending-- Falon saw his opening. A sudden twist of his torso up toward her palm, instead of away, surprised her, and the imbalanced and undulating form required for her move left her exposed to a confident switch in Falon’s palm. He bore down on her with a surge.

Huan spun away, dancing back to the other side of the circle their spectators had cleared for them.

She kept form, arms so perfectly defending they could have been sculpted into place. But, to the trained eye, a miniscule contraction in her left forearm revealed where Falon had scored his touch. She would have an enormous bruise tomorrow.

But he was impressed; she had, in mid-motion, instantly changed course. He’d been aiming to dislocate her shoulder, not glance off her forearm.

“Is it over?” one of the noblewomen hissed.

“My dear, I’m afraid it’s only just begun,” Zarad answered, amused.

It was true. Huan’s intense, large eyes had not wavered once through the whole exchange. There was no pain or distraction within her mind now. She was nowhere near finished.

Good. Because Falon had just warmed up.

He lunged toward her. And Huan, rather than bend backward to avoid his shovel-like palms, leaped forward to meet him.

Time faded away. All worldly concerns drifted off. It was merely two beings, skilled in a dance equal parts violence and beauty, clashing and whirling together. Falon had met many people in his time, but he had found over the years that there were fewer ways to better understand another human than by crossing blades or fists. In the meticulous control in her breathing, he saw the bottomless well of determination within her, fuelled by a well-trained endurance. In the particular twist of her feet, he saw the habits of an old master he’d encountered once years ago.

At the sixty-eighth movement, Falon scored another touch. At the ninety-sixth movement, Huan scored her first touch. A stab from her fingers, formed into a striking knife, on his inner wrist that if she had used more strength and if Falon had not adjusted minisculely for the blow would have ruined his hand for life. As it was, it would be numb for at least a day. At the one hundred and twenty-third movement, Falon tangled her elusive footwork and closed on her.

They both froze.

Falon’s hand rested in the hollow of her throat. If he actually struck the blow, she would be dead. The bout was over.

After what seemed an eternity, they stepped apart. Huan bowed first, and deepest. Falon returned her respect.

He straightened. “I would much welcome another match, when we both have our partners again.”

‘Partner’ in the martial world referred to one’s sword, or weapon of choice. Sparrowhawk and Mountain Fire were both schools of the sword, and though all schools were grounded in hand-to-hand skills, Falon had to admit he was curious about an armed bout with the girl.

Huan stared at him. She frowned.

“That will take too long,” she stated. “Please be prepared. I will challenge you again during the summit.”

“What,” Falon said loudly, startled. “How many times are you planning on doing this?”

“As many as it takes,” Huan said matter-of-factly.

She bowed again, and stalked off. Behind her, the young noblewomen were attempting-- attempting-- to speak intelligently amongst themselves about the match, Jaslen and Avalie where gossiping loudly, and Hamin and Zarad appeared to be sniggering about Falon’s expression.

My Lord General,

Our family, as well as all of Jiyel surely, bears an immense respect for your achievements both on and off the field of battle in the name of our mother nation and her king. We are surely smiled upon by the heavens to have not only a fellow countryman but an exemplary member of our society acting as a chaperone at the Summit.

As chaperone, we know you will look upon our best and brightest, our most accomplished sons and daughters, as charges to be guided down appropriate paths for cooperation amongst the seven nations.

That being said, my wife and I can only beg your magnanimity in regards to our deficiency as parents. Our daughter, Huan, we know has few rights to serve as delegate. Although she has some skill in swordsmanship and sparring, she did not take the exam for consideration as member of the summit, and we very much doubt that she would have distinguished herself if she had. I am embarrassed to admit it, but we have not been able to cultivate in her much ability as a scholar.

She may also be harboring inconvenient notions of her duty to our family with regards to you personally, General. If this is the case, I can only again ask for your generous nature to regard her with an open mind. She is a young girl, naive to the ways of the world, and has yet to forgo her childish idealisms.

Again, if our Huan offends you, my Lord General, we can only offer our profuse apologies.

Sincerely,

Lord Ru, assistant magistrate of the ninety-third district

Falon frowned at the letter in his hand.

It wasn’t exactly what he was expecting. Nothing about its contents was improper, exactly, but its sentiments rang untrue for him. He glanced at the other letter on his desk. Pulling it towards himself, he cracked its wax seal marked with the same insignia as the seal on the first letter.

Falon,

Forgive my presumption for taking the liberty of not using your titles, but I knew your grandfather when he didn’t have a thread of gray hair and I met you when you were still cutting milk teeth. Besides, I’m too old to be mincing words with a kid like you.

My third son is useless and will try to tell you that my favorite granddaughter, Huan, is as well. But she has more talent in her little finger than he will ever exhibit in his entire miserable life. She has the potential to be the greatest martial artist our nation has ever produced. I suspect you may already know this by the time my letter reaches you.

She has a good nature and is a very sweet child, but she needs to see more of the world. Unfortunately, the opportunities for her are slim in Jiyel. She is no doubt challenging you at every turn. I want you to answer her challenges. It will help her grow, and it won’t hurt you to get your head out of your scenarios and actually sweat a little for your victories again.

Ulla, of Sparrowhawk

By the way, I was the one who told her to get revenge for my father, Rhoen. Better keep an eye out, you Mountain Fire scum.

Falon peered at the second letter. It’s tone was all too familiar, somehow. He wondered if this was some practical joke by the Matchmaker.

Inept scholar. Naive, idealistic girl. Good-natured and sweet. He was struggling to resolve these terms with the determined young warrior he’d crossed fists with.

And ‘Mountain Fire scum’? Falon snorted and threw down the letter. This certainly was a matter of the martial world. He couldn’t remember the last time someone insulted him to his face; his time at court had been long and tedious, indeed.

His hand unconsciously went to his belt, where his sword would usually hang. The Isle could at least allow steel in cases of show bouts. Maybe he should start carrying a wooden practice sword. No matter how embarrassing carrying a child’s weapon would be. But it wouldn’t do to appear as if he was concerned about Huan of Sparrowhawk. No. He was General Falon. He’d only been defeated properly three times in his life. The next six weeks certainly weren’t going to change that.

At luncheons, private dinners, and suddenly in the middle of hallways, Huan began a hunt whose sole target was painted on the back of General Falon. She would burst from cupboards and drop from ceiling beams to attack the man, and begin the rapidfire exchange of blows that were quickly becoming a favorite entertainment for the delegates. The general was suddenly inundated with invitations in the hopes that Huan would make an appearance as well, kicking aside wine goblets to aim at Falon’s face. You were considered a bit out of touch if you hadn’t attended at least one event where the pair from Jiyel crossed fists.

Betting pools began on how many touches the general would score, if Huan would score any at all, and how many movements it would take to defeat her. Because, like clockwork, Huan would eventually make some misstep and be forced to submit.

Some bouts she did not score a single touch. Her worst defeat came at a match with a mere sixty-eight movements. Her best showing lasted for one hundred and ninety-two. But without fail, no matter the results or General Falon’s admonishments, she promised to attempt the challenge again. Her eyes perpetually burned with a fierce resolve. Falon had a theory that she slept with her eyes open, lest that gaze burn holes through her eyelids.

Palm of the Fishing Bear. Palm of the Fishing Bear. Palm of the Fishing Bear.

A thrust of the rigid palm, fingers crooked like claws, down and curving out and inward to cripple an opponent’s shins. But it was a training dummy she’d dragged into a quiet corner of the castle grounds that her hand lashed out at, the wood groaning with each strike.

Huan jumped back, stretching her limbs to cool them. She wiped sweat from her brow and considered her hand. Calloused from years of training, some fingertips cracked and rough, the shredded sheet she was using to bind her hands for hand-to-hand work. A stubborn paper cut that would not move on. Rolling back her sleeve a little, she considered her wrist. If she was not imagining things, the tendons were swollen.

She glanced back at the dummy. The scars she’d placed in its oaken surface were not as deep as she was accustomed to.

She wasn’t imagining things.

She was getting weaker.

Huan paused at a corner within the castle’s grand library, hidden from sight. She listened carefully. The librarian was busy pushing a cart laden with books through the stacks, and the perpetual resident of the library-- Duke Lyon -- was breathing in the steady, slow rhythm of deep sleep. His little fort towered several paces away, far beyond hearing range of Huan’s soft steps. Even if he were awake, and even with his moderate training, Huan doubted Lyon would notice anything beyond his scrolls and books.

There was no else in the library, so Huan rounded the corner.

She gazed up at the high reaching shelves. Full of leather and paper and learning. Not knowing where to start, she pursed her lips and began at random. There were tall books, thick books, thin and squat. She pulled a couple out, here and there, and flipped them open. She stared at the pages for a long time. Sometimes she turned to a new page, sometimes she only peered at the paper surfaces with hard eyes.

Things had not changed since coming to Vail Isle. The black marks on the white pages, meant to signify words and sentences and ideas, merely squirmed and jumped over one another when Huan glanced at them.

It was as if the writing bore her some personal grudge, knew exactly when she was looking at them, and chose those exact moments to gambol about. Sometimes, if Huan was patient and used her fiercest glare, she could tame the letters long enough to eek out a few phrases. If she was particularly persistent, and willing to sacrifice long, arduous hours, she could even tough her way through several pages. But it was so hard and tiresome and never as rewarding as sword practice.

And. It was… upsetting. It reminded her of the worst of the tutors, the ones who smacked her hands with their little rods even though she had always been sure it wasn’t her fault. It reminded her of the nausea that rose in her throat whenever she sat in the great testing halls as a child, staring blankly at her blank exam pages. It reminded her of her older siblings, all with their own minor or major scholarly accomplishments and therefore loved by their parents.

She hated it. But. She could not avoid it this time. She was sure her survival rested in these leather volumes, spiteful and hateful things as they were.

Huan spent some time quietly battling with obtuse script. When she heard Duke Lyon stirring in his corner, she slipped the volume she’d been holding back into its place and left the library without a sound.

When several days passed by quietly, Falon found himself at loose ends. He had not heard even a whisper of Huan’s expert footwork, not even the smallest breeze from her lightning fast lunges. It surprised him that he actually missed being abruptly forced into a fight.

Therefore, on a sunny day strolling through the castle’s solariums when Falon found a long thin object hurtling toward his face, he struggled to keep a grin from his lips as his hand automatically flew to catch a wooden practice sword before it could brain him.

He frowned at Huan, standing before him with her own practice sword.

“You never learn your limits,” he scolded. “To be ambitious is one thing, to be a fool is another.”

Ignoring his statement, the girl bowed. The solarium’s other occupants perked up at the sudden scene, and began to titter amongst themselves.

Straightening, she glowered at him. “I’ve been reflecting. I want you to accept me as a disciple.”

Falon raised a brow. “My disciple? Will you then abandon the Way of the Sparrowhawk you’re so proud of?”

“No,” Huan answered firmly. “I mean, teach me for the remainder of the summit.”

“Why would you want that? You have all the skills you need. Anything I could teach you would be incompatible with your style.”

She stared at him with burning eyes. “So I can learn all your secrets and defeat you with them.”

A snort of laughter went up in the sparse crowd strung around them. But Huan held no shred of irony or duplicity in her gaze. Her words, like all her words and actions, were sincere.

“I see,” Falon stated. Then, he couldn’t help himself-- he laughed. “You upstart, presumptuous punk. What makes you think I’ll accept such reasoning?”

“I’ll prove myself,” she stated. “I will gain a touch within fifty movements. If I can, make me your student.”

The general paused. It was not impossible for her. In fact, the touches she had been scoring had been coming more and more quickly. But the past few bouts had a touch of urgency in them that they had not begun with; he’d been surprised, therefore, at the period of respite where she disappeared. He studied her for a moment, and raised the wooden sword-- little better than a stick really-- and gestured toward her.

“Come,” he said.

She did not know what to do.

Her hands were starting to shake just holding a teacup. The things that defined her, the things that filled her with purpose-- her strength and agility -- were slipping away like fine snow in the wind. If she could see the person that had done this to her, she could have it out of them. If she could cut with a blade the poison that ran through her, she could defeat it.

As it was, her furtive forays into the library and the alien world of research were useless. Worse than useless, since they wasted energy and sparked anxiety and anger in her.

What if she died like this? Would they say, oh serves her right, how apt, when she didn’t try hard enough at her studies? Would they remember her efforts at all at perfecting her family’s Way?

If she could at least defeat General Falon, at least there would be that left of her name. But even that possibility was becoming slimmer and slimmer. Score a touch within fifty movements? Ha! She barely avoided defeat until the hundred and eighth!

And she had not been able to muster the strength to challenge him again. She was afraid she would reveal her ailment to the general, who now, after so many bouts, knew her almost as well as her grandmother. She did not know the cunning ways of court, but like any battle she knew it was beyond dangerous to ever show your weakness.

She did not know what to do.

“I will show you my sincerity in fifteen movements.”

Falon studied her. It was the same fierceness, the same unwavering determination, but something had changed since she’d declared she would be his student. A stillness beyond stillness, a certainty beyond certainty. A slowness that spoke more of depth, of commitment than any quenching of her fire.

It was a rare afternoon when the ballroom stood empty but for the long shadows cutting the polished floor and the silken rustle of the tall drapes at the cavalcade of windows. This time, there was no nuisance of an audience with their vulgar curiosity.

Falon nodded. They paid their respects, and began.

She careened toward him, her feet eating up the glossy tile of the ballroom like a stone skipping over a lake instantaneously, a collapse in the fabric of the world that made time obsolete. She was there, now she was upon him. All at once.

At first, Falon did not know what had happened to him. She struck a touch at the first movement, one that he barely deflected from becoming a defeat. The next string of paired maneuvers seemed to occur with him mired in a sludge. He was forced to bend and twist in ways that recalled the broken rhythms and scrambling of his three defeats. What had happened? It was like a sense he didn’t even know he’d been using had been cut down.

And then, as she flew backward from him releasing a blow, weighted with the iron defense it had sprung from, he saw it. The way she planted her foot, and the contortion of her leg muscles as she prepared to fly back into the furor.

It was the first he’d seen it. He’d heard of it. But never would he have believed her to be so foolish.

He had to stop this. Now. Fifteen movements would be too late.

Falon waited. Or rather, being that this fight, somehow only milliseconds in length, gave him no room to wait, he sharpened himself. With the whetstone of his will, he found the razor-edge stillness with which to cut down the outer world. He observed, and he saw it--

Falon groaned with the pain of releasing the tension in his calves and thighs, the feverish spring of his arms in the aftermath of the motion that had sent Huan crashing to the marble tile and skidding, prone, several paces away. She was silent.

The general heaved with heavy breaths. Still, he moved toward her with a quiet fury in his eyes.

“How dare you,” he said. “How could you be such a fool.”

The girl pushed up from the floor, her arms shaking. She did not meet his gaze.

“These things,” he continued, “are meant for war. For real battles. Where lives are at stake. Not show bouts. Not trivial, stupid pride. Show me your sincerity?” He made a sound of disgust. “You have only shown me the paper-thin depth of your character.”

“I know,” Huan finally said, her head still down. “I know. But--”

Her hands on her knees clenched and bunched her tunic. “I know, but I don’t have any options left. There’s no time.”

Falon frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Huan glanced up at him, then back down. She shook her head and remained silent.

The general sighed heavily and winced. The move to stop her had taken a lot out of him, and he would certainly pay for it in the morning. He could already feel a jittery sort of numbness in his limbs.

“I don’t know what is weighing on you,” he said quietly. “But you are alive and young and strong. You are fully capable of conquering many obstacles, so there is no need to resort to such tactics. You have time. And if you don’t, make time.”

Huan, her head still bent, knelt silent for a long stretch of time, as if absorbing his words carefully and fully. Then, she bent in the most respectful bow possible; one meant for the subject to her king, or the child to her parents and masters.

Falon studied her for a moment, and then made her get up and go on to bed. He needed sleep, too, desperately. Maybe a hot bath first. To loosen his muscles a bit and make his morning at least incrementally less excruciating.

“...if, for example, we take Nadya’s proposition to the fifth emperor of the Jurri dynasty in Corval, Emperor Perr Deut Zhardent, for the establishment of a social construct wherein the tenets of Grae’s aesthetic theory were followed to a letter, and the subsequent disastrous results which culminated in the horrific Red Canvas Movement, insulting the Dowager Queen Benice of Revaire as--”

A hand interrupted any further progression through the text.

A real, three-dimensional hand, that is, placed upon the page in front of Lyon’s nose. He looked up, his bones creaking from disuse.

Lady Huan scowled back at him.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for a long time,” she accused. “What if I had been an assassin?”

“Then you would have killed me,” Lyon replied.

Huan’s frown deepened. “Weren’t you trained by Master Ideer from Brass Palm? She would be appalled.”

“If you had really been set on killing me, I probably would have reacted,” Lyon answered.

“Probably?”

“Look, is there something you need?”

Huan closed her mouth against whatever outraged statement she was about to express. She released a stream of air from her nose to disperse her annoyance. Pulling out a chair at the table where Lyon sat (she assumed there was a table underneath all the texts), she perched herself across from him. Huan stared at Lyon with her hard eyes, and he pushed his spectacles up.

“I have a puzzle for you,” she stated. “I can’t solve it on my own, so I need your help.”

Lyon straightened to focus on her fully, rather than let his eyes sidle to the open books before him.

“I’m listening,” he said.

“It all started when I got this letter…”

#7kpp #7kppweek #7kpp week #jiyel!mc #dyslexic character #my writing #i somehow turned 7kpp into wu xia #so there's that #¯\_(ツ)_/¯#fanfiction

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