#also if it should no longer be available or anyone who has a bad connection

[linksthoughtbrambles]

Thought I'd give you a one word prompt for any of the Zelinks: Ghost.

@nocturnalfandomartist, thank you, thank you, thank you for this prompt. This astonished me more the more I wrote - and I couldn't stop writing. It may be longer than you bargained for at 9K words, but I enjoyed writing every single word of it. I will write at least one follow-up. This is a canon-compliant sequel to What to Expect When Fetch-Questing and a loose sequel to The Seeds of Love, Well-Worn and What Once Rang Hollow (with a few continuity differences for that last one) but it can stand easily on its own. Rated T, post-TotK, humor, drama, and romance. Also available to read on ao3.

Eternal

Link was extremely pleased he had his own arm back.

Unfortunately, he was the only one.

Purah (“Are you fricking KIDDING me?! I wanted to study that thing!”), Robbie (“I must repair my balloon myself?!”), Impa (“Mmm—a pity. With it, we might have learned how to create our own constructs—perhaps incorruptible ones.”), Paya (“That’s too bad, Link—it looked good on you!”), Tauro (“Ahhh. I’m sure you’re feeling better, but I was hoping I could learn more of the Zonai language from it, somehow.”), Calip (“It’s gone?! What did you do with it? You should’ve given it to me as an expert in these matters!”), Sidon (“My dearest friend! Where has your adult arm gone? Are you well?”), Yunobo (“Oh NO, Link, you lost your cool arm!”), Tulin (“Oh mannn. You still have my pledge, Link, but I don’t think I should just…slap my rune on your body. We gotta get you some rings or something.”), and Riju (“I didn’t expect you to look so much smaller without it.”), not to mention every single member of the monster control crew, and essentially anyone in Hyrule who ever recognized him, all thought he’d been better off with part of Rauru grafted onto his body.

Even Zelda wasn’t (entirely) an exception.

She did appreciate Link’s hands during their personal time (“I must admit, Link, I’d have felt strange were you doing this with a Zonai’s hand rather than your own”), but the scholar and sovereign in her definitely mourned the loss of such a unique artifact.

“Link, is there any chance you still share a psychic connection with Rauru?”

“Nope,” he said.

She blinked at him.

“Sorry,” he said, blushing and sheepish.

Now that the depths, sky, and newfound caverns had created vast opportunities for exploration, research, and innovation, Zelda’s original aim of rebuilding Hyrule had essentially tripled. She and Link knew if they didn’t make depths exploration and settlement official, people would do it on their own and get themselves killed (or the Yiga would claim it, and Hyrule would be threatened again in a few centuries). So it was, indeed, official as were new initiatives to investigate Zonai technology—making the Great Abandoned Central Mine one of several hubs of Hyrulean activity in the depths. Its proximity to the healing spring directly beneath the Shrine of Resurrection had made it a frequent destination of theirs.

Link and Zelda materialized beneath the Koradat Lightroot to the weighty vertigo of silence in the dark beyond the root’s oasis.  It was the same every time—some quiet dread sinking into the deepest pit of Link’s belly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.  He kept telling himself it would be better once people settled, with their warm lights and the sounds that come with them going about their daily business.  Zelda kept telling him otherwise. (“We oughtn’t fill this place to the brim with light, Link. We would disturb its ecosystem severely”).

Link was usually on board with leaving nature undisturbed for the most part.

Maybe it was the time he’d spent down here in utter silence but for his own footsteps, utter darkness but pale flowerlight shot into a black so matte it may as well have been death’s void; the pressure of vast expanses of pitch-black felt nothing like a sea of undisturbed trees far above in the light.

There wasn’t even any wind.

Were both nature? Yes. Were both natural?

It didn’t feel like it.

“Shall we?” Zelda said.

It severed Link’s fledgling reverie. He tore his eyes from the lightless maw beyond Hylia Canyon and turned to join Zelda in descending the steep slope on the path toward the Great Abandoned Central Mine. He gave her a small smile, though he knew, from her face, it didn’t reach his eyes.

Her return smile did. “I hear one of our survey teams discovered another root in that direction,” she said. “We merely- ah- well-“

“Have to figure out how to light it up without my arm,” Link said.

A hint of pink dusted Zelda’s cheekbones. “Yes. Sorry, Link.”

The mine’s central structure loomed in the distance, its light cold, the highest statue of the ancient Gerudo sage always watching, an intimidating glower over the hilt of her sword aimed at any who would ascend the formidable stair toward its main entrance.

“Hello, Aratra,” Zelda whispered, as she always did, as though the woman herself could still answer her.

As they neared the bottom of the hill, blue flickered in Link’s vision. “Zelda,” he said, pointing to the small cluster of poes coming into view on the left.

The spectre of that intimate grief between them passed over her face as she nodded.

He didn’t say it wasn’t her fault.

Since he didn’t say it, she didn’t say it could be.

The words floated between them, spoken so many times they’d become an immutable understanding: that she’d been too slow, that he’d been too silent, that they’d both been too obedient to the long-dead king whose grave Zelda still brought blue gentians to in the early days of each summer.

That neither of them blamed the other for it.

That they’d both spend the rest of their lives making up for it.

And that they’d do it together.

Neither of them knew whether the spiritual flames were casualties of the Calamity.

Link only knew the vague sense of relief he felt when they entered him. It felt like they felt safe—sometimes, he even sensed joy—and they clung to him so hard.

They clung to Zelda, too, it turned out.  As they approached, the spirits snapped eagerly into whichever of them was nearest, nestling somewhere unfathomable within them until released to a bargainer’s care. Link still didn’t trust the bargainers, exactly, though they intended to visit the one in the mine that day.

They didn’t talk much. They usually didn’t when sliding through the depths’ silence—sound felt like a beacon to whatever might be beyond the lightroot’s reach; yet they moved in unwavering agreement, sweeping up every poe in their path and off it within sight. It’s why they took the long route to every work site.

They veered far off the path at one point to collect a dozen wayward souls atop a half-buried ruin of a toppled archway.

“If we go much further, we’ll be at the spring rather than the mine,” Zelda said.

“Yeah,” Link answered quietly. They turned to rejoin the path further up, hugging the rounded base of a monumental column presumably carved by nature, reaching the impossibly high ceiling of what was far, far too large to consider a mere cavern. It was like a space willed into existence by the gods themselves.

Link’s mood lifted as the sounds of civilized activity reached him, more and more distinct as they neared the foot of the quadruple-flight of stone stairs beneath the statue’s feet. Link caught a glimpse of a Sheikah scientist, little but a few motes of color on the highest level of the structure, cheerful construct “Brrrp!”s reflecting toward them off any of hundreds of stone facades: every surface the same pale grey—every light cool and lifeless.

Link couldn’t imagine living in such a place. With an irritated grind of his teeth, he realized he strongly preferred the haphazard Yiga structures, with their paper and oil lights and bound wood. The real, green-leaved brightblooms were also better than the Zonai’s artificial torches.

“Rupee for your thoughts,” Zelda whispered.

Link huffed. “The place needs some color.”

She paused on the stairs, a third of the way up, her torso shaking with laughter and her hand squeezing his tight.

Link tried not to smile. He didn’t want her to think he liked being laughed at.

“Link,” she said, holding her stomach, “that is…precisely the sort of observation I ought to expect you to make.”

He really tried to keep a sour grimace on, but he knew his lips were going twitchy.

“Unfortunately,” Zelda said, eyeing his lips with suspicion, “I am no longer in a position to pass on your criticism of Zonai décor.”

Link snorted. “Neither am I. But I definitely would’ve said something to Rauru if I’d seen this before he disappeared.”

“I have no doubt! And truly, you’re right. I cannot imagine spending any great length of time down here with nothing but grey stone and white light.”

Link nodded. “At least not without experiencing crushing environmental depression.”

Zelda inclined her head, no longer laughing. “Indeed. It makes one wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“…Whether the monsters find it as unpleasant as we do,” she said, her eyes sweeping the far-off dark.

Link let that one sink in as they made the landing. Zelda touched the dais on which her old ally stood with reverence. When her hand slid from the porous stone, they continued up the staircase on her right. The chamber below would wait until later.

They ascended among tents clustered on the flagstones before the forge, lining the walls both natural and Zonai-made right up to the great arch.  They littered the circular courtyard on the other side of the building, too, the royal crest and symbols of the Sheikah, Zonai Survey Team, and Gerudo adorning many. The familiar sound of a fan whirred somewhere above them, out of sight.

It had been quite a stroke of luck, really, that Link had activated these facilities before Rauru’s arm vanished. The constructs had still recognized him as their “primary authorizer” and he’d been able to grant access to others.

He admitted, though, it was getting cumbersome; the moment he saw Ponnick, he knew he’d run out of time to think about Zelda’s monster-wonderings.  He flagged Link down (as if Link wasn’t looking straight at him) with arms wild above his head. “Thank the skies you’re here, we have new recruits!”

Link then spent the obligatory hour introducing them to all the constructs in the facility.

Zelda had her own work in store for her. Between decisions regarding distribution of newly acquired zonaite and reports from the excavation, inventory, innovation, and engineering teams, she easily had a full day of deliberation and arbitration ahead. Link joined her for much of it once he’d fulfilled his authorization duties—after all, he’d become something of an amateur engineer himself. It was nice to have something scientific to contribute when talking with Zelda.

“You can totally build a wing/hot-air-balloon hybrid!” he’d said.

 “Link, that sounds quite impractical-“

“No, no, you don’t put the balloon in the middle, you put it on the nose at an angle, see?  Then it drags the wing upward.”

“L- Link- what of the flame needed?“

“Oh, no, it’s fine, you only get burned a little bit.”

“What?!”

“And you still put the fans on the back, you know, to help out. Oh, and the steering stick.”

“Link, forgive me, but the flame shall not be directed straight up. It is inefficient and unsafe.”

“Yeah but the LIFT!”

He’d quite liked his flaming plane. So had Robbie.

Today, the engineering talk had more to do with shoring up mining tunnels, which while important, did not require Link’s particular flair for incendiary devices. All their talk of angles, sines, and cosines seemed a bit more precise than his higgledy-piggledy constructions to hold up Addison’s signs, so he eventually left them to it, jogging instead to the rim of the courtyard, climbing up, and inviting all the poes newly showing themselves to join him—then scouting for more from his higher vantage point. He’d grown used to the quizzical looks from everyone else but Zelda.

“What?” he’d asked as Ponnick watched him jog, zig-zagging, in a roughly circular area covered in pale grey and lavender fungi.

“What are you doing?”

“Collecting the poes,” Link said.

“Poes? Where?!” Ponnick spun, wildly searching for spirits which glowed blue, plain as day, in Link’s vision.

At least Zelda could see them, too.

On balance, between the poes, soldiers’ spirits, koroks, Hestu, and the dragons of the springs, he’d have presumed himself insane if no one else ever saw what he saw.  He almost had after the ghost of King Rhoam disappeared right in front of his face in the Temple of Time: an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism.

Except they hadn’t been delusions, because he’d killed the crap out of Ganon.

Twice.

Or, of course, he imagined it. Twice.

Link shook his head. No point going down that route. If he imagined that, he imagined everything, and if that was the case he might as well relax and start attaching rockets to every exhausted korok’s backpack like that one by Outskirt Stable.

Poor little guy. At least he made it the eleventh time.

He huffed to himself. Sometimes, Zelda thought he was a little nuts. He supposed he could see why.

As a particularly large poe with a bright pink fringe zzipped its way into his body, Link caught a wink of blue between boulders at the stone circle in the distance to the north—a small zonaite deposit he’d cleared of monsters for what seemed to be the final time, the blood moons having ended.

It sparked his curiosity.

He sprinted the first hundred feet, then slowed to a reasonable pace. He didn’t want to go too far and worry Zelda, but if there were poes at that old monster nest, he didn’t want to leave them there.

Ten minutes later, he entered the mouth of the circle, three moldy, rickety old watch-posts within and another gap in the rocks across from him. Blue flickered beyond it: five poes huddled together. As he approached, flashes of his last encounter there played across his mind’s eye. The bokoblin on the platform before him had seen him first and tried to rain fire-fruit-arrows on him. Two silver moblins had slouched toward him, intent on splitting him open with their horns or the decayed royal claymores they’d somehow gotten. The other two bokoblins had fallen quickly to Tulin’s duplicate. Five monsters in all.

Link’s lip curled.

He hesitated on the brink of turning back, the thought of helping anything that may once have been a bokoblin sending a shockingly wicked taste of bile up his throat. He brought a fist to his mouth, pressing it deep to his skin, the imprint of his teeth stark against his lips.

No one memory stood out.

He’d never met a bokoblin that hadn’t aimed to kill on sight—never known one to show mercy, or even disinterest. Once they knew a person was near, they entered an unstoppable, murderous frenzy until they succeeded or someone put them down.

Link shut his eyes and took breath after deep breath.

He didn’t know anything for sure, and the bargainers never said.

Except they did say.

“Good… Evil… That’s the futile perspective of narrow-minded beings… There is no such distinction in wandering spirits.”

When he next looked, the flames flickered every bit as forlorn as they always did. He shook his head, his feet finally choosing forward for him.

When the poes joined the others in Link, he felt the usual sense of relief. Whoever or whatever they were, they seemed glad to be with him—not as happy as the ones he’d found in the deepest pit of the mine beneath Hateno, but if he was stuck for Goddess-knows how long at the absolute bottom of a pitch-black pit, he’d have been overjoyed to get out, too.

He took his time on the way back to the courtyard, half-watching a team excavate a buried section of the cracked enclosure and half-scouting for more glints of spirit-light, pensive, wrinkling his nose as he became aware of the sticky sheen on his skin. He pulled a handkerchief from his pouch and took it to his face. It came away slightly green with the powdery spores always floating in the too-still air of the depths.  Zelda collected them to study, but Link preferred not to be the collection vessel.

Zelda herself appeared over the edge of the wall as he swept the cloth beneath his left eye a second time. He watched her make her way down the inclined stone the natural grace she’d always had.

When he reached her, she was busy snapping images of the newly excavated section of stone.

“It is remarkable how they accomplished this precision on such a massive scale.” The Purah Pad clicked. “These structures were erected before my time with them—long before for most. They are scattered so far and wide and yet certain markings on them are precisely identical. I suppose they may have mass-produced stones as they did construct parts and delivered them afar.”

Link grew a soft, sideways smile as he listened. He could imagine her doing exactly this in the sunshine, her hair brushing the small of her back, himself silent as always, allowing her voice to wash over him until she inevitably remembered who she was talking to.

“The compendium feature is still something of a mystery,” she’d said, snapping a carefully-timed shot of a warm darner just as it paused, searching for prey.

“It recognizes certain species, but not others. Initially, Purah and I believed its recognition to be related to useful effects. Warm darners are of use in elixirs to resist cold temperatures, for example. Yet despite being unable to identify any species of tree, the Slate recognizes certain perfectly ordinary fruits, including apples.”

Link thought apples were too delicious to be ordinary.  He didn’t dare say so, but the phantom flavor of hot buttered apple flooded his mouth and his stomach betrayed him with a thoroughly embarrassing hunger-pang much-too-much like the sound of a hopeful retriever begging for an appley treat.

Zelda’s back stiffened. She glanced over her shoulder at his now-pink face, her eyes flicking to the blue pommel peeking out behind his ear. Link remained perfectly still, and that included not swallowing his imaginary-apple-induced-saliva.

Then-Zelda had returned to imaging wildlife in a rankling silence.

Now-Zelda heard him huff a laugh and turned with a smile sparkling despite the cold light of this place. She hooked the Purah Pad onto her belt. “May I ask what’s amused you so?”

Link shrugged a little. “Ways you haven’t changed.”

“Ah,” she said, threading her fingers through his. “And what of ways I have?”

His voice emerged low and soft. “I love those.” He squeezed her hand.

It made her smile at him in a way far too similar to how she had much earlier that morning, not long after waking up. He swallowed as she pulled him toward her—then she squinted at him and laughed a little through her nose, taking the handkerchief still in his other hand and beginning to wipe his forehead.

“I did that already,” he chuckled.

“You missed your hairline,” she said with the soft laugh he’d come to recognize as her equivalent of a giggle. “It’s fortunate this substance does not irritate your lungs as it does for some.”

“Especially Nappin.”

“Indeed, yes, especially Nappin. I do not believe depths research is his calling.”

“Nope.”

“You must have walked through a thick patch.”

“Ran through, more likely.”

“Oh? Where did you go?”

Link motioned toward the stone circle in the distance.

Her brow pinched. “Monsters?”

“Poes,” he said, wondering if he should tell her about the coincidence of the number. It might make her feel better, to have some hint these weren’t all souls marooned by the Calamity, but he wasn’t sure how she’d take the possibility they might be doing favors for monsters who’d been intent on murdering them in life.

She must have seen it in the motions of his mouth, nearly but not quite speaking. “Something else?” she asked.

He sighed soft through his nose. “Just something that made me think.”

The corner of her mouth quirked. Then her whole face opened up in mock-surprise. “Incredible!”

“Pfff,” he said with a poke to her ribs.

She squeaked. The three people working on the excavation behind Zelda went from studiously ignoring them to unabashed staring. Link gave them a small wave just as he registered Zelda’s eyes narrowing at him.

She began to rub the handkerchief all over the crown of his head with unnecessary vigor.

“Hey!”

The sounds coming from her as he pushed her hands away were much more like a girlish giggle than anything she usually produced. “It was in your hair, too,” she pointed out.

“There’s probably some in yours, Princess,” he warned.

Her eyebrows shot very close to the hairline her hands had risen to protect.

Link smirked. Her braid was much more difficult to fix than his ponytail. He made short work of his, shaking his now-mussed hair out and re-gathering it in the tie. Hyper-aware of the team still at rapt attention in the background, he finished up and offered his hand to Zelda. “Truce?”

She took it with a small smile. “Yes, please—but sincerely, I would like to know what gave you pause in the short time we were separated.”

His smile ebbed as he began to lead her over the shallower side of the half-buried stone walkway. It was no use, really. He’d only been good at hiding things from her when she refused to look at him, so long ago.

“There were five poes,” he said, “same as how many monsters I last cleared out.”

Their feet fell so quiet on the soft courtyard ground covered in pale, fuzzy flora he had no real names for, some soft and mossy, others more like wisps or powders. A few prickled. He liked the purple ones best for breaking up all that grey.

Their feet followed the same path without any hesitance or need for confirmation—toward the great central corridor. Zelda finally answered ten feet from its first stones.

“The statues say… good and evil… are meaningless for them.”

“…Yeah.”

“For a few moments, I was wondering whether only the spirits remaining clear in the shape of Hylian soldiers were people, but… no.  For they aren’t poes at all, are they?”

Link shook his head. “No. They… find their way on their own. Once they’re done.”

Zelda nodded. “They had a purpose—to help you,” Zelda said.

“To help someone, anyway. Whoever came around to fight back.”

A series of clanging sounds echoed down the stone steps into the corridor, along with quizzical "Brrrp!"s and a Hylian's grumbling. Link's right hand flexed. No more convenient ultra-glue. He kept walking.

“Why down here?” Zelda asked.

She’d spoken so quietly he had to think to process her words over the noise.

“You mean why in the depths?” Link asked.

“Yes. Why so far beneath the place they perished? There seems little hope of aiding someone here, doesn’t there?”

“I came along.”

“Yet they can’t have known you would. They wouldn’t even have known the depths were here to travel here intentionally.”

Link shook his head. He had absolutely no idea.

They descended in thoughtful silence to the base of Aratra’s main statue, then behind her into the yawning chamber tucked deceptively beneath the center of the great structure.

It struck Link, as it often did, as the offer of an embrace. As the chamber opened before them, the long bridge leading from the entrance directly to the four-eyed face of the greatest bargainer statue, the platform running abreast its shoulders combined with its massive arms and it appeared so ready to encircle whatever came before it. When he’d first stood there, he expected it, watched those hands out of the corner of his eye, waiting for movement.

It had never come.

Instead, a distant but surprisingly level-headed voice had issued from the alien face. It had helped him—no question about that.

The poes gladly rushed into its waiting arms—no doubt about that, either.

But this entity had also played a trick on him to get him down here. He would never trust it the way he trusted the Goddess.

The Goddess statues were another matter entirely. Now that he knew more than one thing could talk out of them, he was a lot more wary than he’d been before.

They came to a halt near the great statue’s face.

“You who stand before me,” it said in tones of single drops of water echoing in a deep, black lake, “offer poes to me. They are spirits that ought to return to the afterlife.”

As always, the poes simply left them. With hundreds or thousands of spirits somehow housed within him, Link always expected there to be something like a whirlwind, or flashes of light—but there wasn’t. It was swift and gentle as a sigh: barely a murmur of any motion or sound. It took merely a moment.

Then a wave of desperate grief seized the core of Link’s body and he cried out, clutching at an anguished heart, though neither the cry nor the heart were his own.

“Link!” Zelda gripped his biceps, her face stricken.

“Z-elda-“ he said, more to answer her than anything else, at a complete loss.

“Two do not wish to leave you,” said the bargainer.

Link’s breath caught.  Zelda’s eyes flew wide, and she looked him up and down as though trying to find them. “Can you- pull them from him?”

“I can do no more than guide,” the bargainer answered. “I show the way home.”

“They usually seem quite pleased to go home. So- why?” Zelda’s face seemed approaching a panic like none he’d seen in over a hundred years.

“I’m fine, Zel,” Link said, “really- NO, really, I’m fine, I’m just- I feel what they feel.”

“Yes, I do as well, but this-“

“This is them not wanting to go,” Link said, shaking. His eyes met first the lower, then the upper pair of the bargainer’s. “Can you talk to them?”

“After a fashion.”

“Can you figure out why-“

“I know why.”

Link and Zelda waited a few beats.

“We would appreciate it if you would inform us,” Zelda said, a hint of exasperation in her voice.

There was a depth of quiet, as though all sound plummeted into some unseen pit, unable to return, siphoned, whenever the bargainers spoke across fathoms to their brethren.  It muted Link’s accelerated breaths. Zelda’s grip tightened, her mind visibly whirring behind the eyes flicking between his features.

“…You have made a substantial offering,” the bargainer said at length.

Link and Zelda exchanged a glance.

“You have made many offerings,” it continued, “many more than any other being in countless ages.”

Link experienced the distinct sensation of someone…curling around him, like Zelda would, holding him tight, but inside his own chest.

“If you agree, I will honor these spirits’ requests as repayment for your offerings.”

“Agree?” Zelda asked. “What requests?”

“They would speak with you,” it clarified.

The curl tightened. It felt like far, far more than a desire to speak. A creeping dread rose in him—his own—of what spirits would choose to cling with such desperation to his body.

Someone terrified of death? Of the afterlife? Maybe someone with a last request—a regret? Two someones—at the same time, when it had never happened before?

Or did the bargainer mean… “W-wait,” Link said with a swallow. “Do they want to speak to someone in general? Or is it just me? Or Zelda?”

Link resisted an inexplicable urge to whimper.

“It is you who stand before me,” the bargainer said.

“Meaning Link,” Zelda said squinting at the statue.

It stared as though its answer had been obvious.

“Do they mean him harm?” Zelda’s tone had hardened considerably. “We have seen spirits lift weapons- perform magic.“

Link lurched with a sudden fear—could he have picked up Ganondorf’s soul?

“I offer you a boon,” the bargainer said, “not a curse.”

Zelda blinked, taken aback, while Link registered the depth of the anguish invading his heart.

It didn’t feel like Ganondorf. He’d have been hatred—envy—fury.

No, that wasn’t it.

This was regret. Something undone or unfinished.

Link closed his eyes and tried to… reach—within himself, where this spirit wound around him. So tight—clinging—stubborn. Something made him breathe an incredulous laugh, and he didn’t even know why; but the more he seemed to press into the spirit’s space the more familiar it seemed, an intense vertigo hurtling toward him from an invisible horizon slamming his awareness into long ago, when the world was over a hundred years younger.

Link’s body gasped.

Link’s mind looked down at a very spiteful young girl with a thick mop of mixed sand-and-straw-and-acorn-colored hair which he’d wrestled into a braid for her earlier that day, springy strands poking out at odd angles as she narrowed her eyes at him, her gangly arms vice-gripping his ribs, her hands fisted, and her feet planted wider than shoulder-width apart, as though to brace him immovably in-place.

“This isn’t going to work out for you, cheeter,” Link said.

“You’re not going,” she answered, her voice a mix of petulant and acrid.

“I… kind of am.”

“Nope.” She sniffed, a bit of her own hair having tickled its way to the edge of one nostril.

“I mean, if you won’t let go, I can just drag you all the way to the castle.”

“Good.”

“Good?!”

“Dad takes you everywhere. My turn.”

“You clinging to my midriff isn’t the same as Father taking you somewhere.”

Her lip curled and Link felt kind of bad, but what did she expect? “You’re eleven.”

“So?”

“So you’re not even out of school yet!”

“Castle Town has a school.”

“So you want to go to school in Castle Town while I’m in training all day and pretty much not see me anyway?”

“At least I’ll get to do something.”

Link laughed so hard he went silent, the girl’s chin bopping his ribs painfully with each spasm of his diaphragm.

“What are you laughing at?!”

“Chee… for Hylia’s sake, you’ll just be at a different school!”

“With you.”

“What about Mom?” Link said.

Chee went quiet for a moment, her eyes softening a little, though they still shone like tiger’s-eye. He could tell she was trying not to grimace.

“That is totally your sheepish face trying not to come out,” Link said.

 “Dad leaves her alone,” Chee said quietly. “A lot.”

Link’s smile left him. “No… he doesn’t. Because she has us.”

“You mean me.”

“Yeah, okay… so it’s been you more than me. But do you really want to leave her here while we both go?”

“She could come.”

Link shook his head. He was getting sidetracked. Mom wasn’t really what this was about, and neither was a different school, or Castle Town, or even his sister getting to do more exciting things. “Look, Chee… I know you’ll miss me.”

She grunted and pumped all the air from his lungs with her bony arms (damn she was strong).

“I’ll miss you too. A lot.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, hard, but not too hard. He was way too strong for his own good, or hers. “More than anyone,” he whispered.

“Link?”

“No way.”

“Yep.”

“You’re a total mommy’s boy.”

“Yeah, well, doesn’t mean my sister can’t be my favorite person.”

“Link, please- answer me!”

“He communes,” the bargainer said, the sound of distance itself as the image of Link’s little sister faded.

The feel of her arms around him remained.

“I agree!” Link blurted.

“What?!” Zelda said, her thumb swiping at a wetness on Link’s cheek.

As the embrace of his innermost self bled from Link, he tripped forward, his arms desperate, seeking to return it. His hands found Zelda’s waist, and his eyes found hers—whatever she saw in them made her hug him tight about his shoulders.

“Link?” she said.

He held her too, unsure how to begin, but any words died on his lips at the sight of blue flame coalescing behind her. He tapped Zelda’s back, taking her by one shoulder and turning her to look.

Two spirits came into slow being before them, veiled in a pale blue glow, their features weaving into existence as patches of light, seamless once in place. Flames licked their feet, one moment there, then gone. They were old women, but as Link watched, their edges shimmered, and they took the forms he knew they would—some hidden heart within him had already known, had felt their shades only in his most dreamless of sleeps, in the darkness with them.

One woman stood almost exactly his height, about forty years old, and looked very much like him. The other had become the girl who’d insisted he stay home with her over a century ago.

How could his waking mind have forgotten them so thoroughly? He really was an insane amnesiac with delusions of heroism. He’d have to be insane to forget people he loved so much.

“Mom. Chee,” he said, and as he did, their tears fell, too. They rushed to embrace him, both at once, and he could feel them, they were real, and his deepest core spoke a wordless vow to offer a gift worthy of the bargainer’s extraordinary blessing.

--

Zelda balanced privacy and caution, wandering the length of the bargainer’s platform, the communion of three always at the corner of her eye, sitting cross-legged, knee-to-knee and hand-in-hand.

She’d known of his mother and sister, but they’d never met. He’d spoken of them only in bare, short spaces, quiet moments when Calamity’s imminence dulled.

How their Hateno home had not brought their memories forth long before now, she didn’t know. She’d sensed, sometimes, as Link stared at a piece of pottery or brushed his fingertips over a length of wood-grain on the banister, some glimmer of their former reality floating near to the surface—but it never emerged.

It’s why she’d delved into the mystery of the Shrine of Resurrection—into the healing spring beneath it in the depths—as though the missing parts of him had drifted into its bed, lying nascent against its darkest earth, far below.

They’d have stopped there again after this, on an ordinary day. She’d have given him her most sincere of smiles as she removed his leather—his bracers, his belts, his boots—her eyes never leaving his. She could feel the way his chest would rise and fall, quickening against the heels of her hands. They’d have entered the water together.

Zelda reached the platform’s edge. Hundreds of feet below, a small cluster of poes huddled in the great chamber’s corner, near the bargainer’s ankle; Zelda wondered that they’d come so close to the guiding statue, yet not found their way to the afterlife.

“They do not wish to cross,” the bargainer said.

Zelda gasped, one hand pressing flat to her chest. It had heard her?

“I can hear only you who stand before me.”

Zelda craned her neck toward the statue’s head, half-expecting it to have turned toward her. It hadn’t. “Not the others above us, then?” she whispered.

“Only you who stand before me.”

Zelda sighed, the bargainer keeping its secrets as always. She centered Link in her vision, speaking quietly with his lost family, so engrossed he’d not spared the statue a glance as its voice sounded.

“I spoke to you alone,” the statue said.

“Oh?” Zelda’s curiosity piqued. “I didn’t realize you could.”

She waited for a response, the spark of excitement slowly fading in the silence.

She oughtn’t have expected anything else. These beings showed interest in nothing but the welfare of the spirits they shepherded. She peered over the railing once more, at the flames flickering far below.

“If I go to collect them, will they come?”

“For you, yes. Undoubtedly.”

“And would they then move on as the others have?”

“Almost certainly.”

She wondered why her carrying them a few hundred feet would change their minds.

“Listen with he who also stands before me. You will understand.”

Zelda’s brow tightened, taken aback and hesitant to simply eavesdrop. She shuffled her feet.

The bargainer remained silent.

She approached the three with great reservation, her hands clasped before her, unwilling to simply insert herself within their conversation. She stopped partway across the platform. Should Link wish to include her, he would—yet he was rapt. He appeared as though drinking in every detail of his mother’s face over and over again. Perhaps he feared a more ordinary forgetfulness would take her from him a second time.

Zelda’s lower lip rose in understanding. Some days, she, too, struggled to see her father’s face clearly. Her mother’s had long been wiped blank.

She gasped, her hand touching the Purah Pad.

Link looked up at the sound, giving her a small smile, and as he did, the spirits looked at her as well, as though only just noticing her presence.

The spirit of Link’s mother smiled wide. “Link! Is she with you?”

Link turned deep crimson, his face twisting in a smiling grimace Zelda had never seen on him.

“Oooh!” his sister said, her face full of mock-scandalization. “Your face, Link. Wow. Is she… with you?” she asked, her eyebrows inching upward.

Link’s rested his face in his hands as the spirit-women giggled at him. Zelda couldn’t help but quirk a smile, herself, though she felt strange. She could not ignore the hesitance in her heart.

Transient.

It would be transient.

Her eyes threatened tears as she watched her lover, watched him be with them as though they yet lived.

Their departure would sink him as his forgetfulness never could have.

It took Link a minute and a few resurgences of giggling to recover enough to peer over his hands at her.

Then he held one out in invitation, turning that smile on her- the one that was for her alone. She drew a steeling breath, her fingers worrying at the pad’s cool surface. “Are you certain?” Zelda asked. “I’ve no wish to intrude.” I’ve no wish to cut your time short.

“I’m completely sure,” Link said, beckoning her toward him.

Her shoe scuffed on the first step and she swallowed, extending her hand. When he took it, his mother’s spirit slid to make room for her. Zelda sat as they did, her knee to Link’s, unable to smile and unsure what to say—though she had no intention of asking questions about the mechanics of spirithood, despite the bargainer’s nebulous words.

Link seemed to sense her uncertainty. He threaded his fingers through hers and moved closer, drawing her hand warm into his lap, his shoulder to hers. Zelda couldn’t help but find his eyes, and though she knew his smile and the squeeze of her hand were nothing but sincerity, a truth to reassure her, the smile she gave held a depth of sadness for the future this would bring.

“That is so a yes,” his sister said, snapping the moment in two. Link’s eyes rolled and fluttered shut, and a small laugh left Zelda’s nose despite her visions of Link falling apart.

“The sky’s sake, Chee,” his mother chuckled. “You lived to be ninety-two. I’d expect you to have matured eventually.”

“Are you kidding? This is my chance to be a kid again. I’ll take it!” The girl smiled at Link, but an intense sadness lay in the core of her eyes, the precise contours of her lips. Zelda recognized its longing.

It was in his mother’s, too. “Link, my little love,” the older woman said, shifting a soft smile between him and Zelda, “why don’t you introduce us?”

Link huffed a laugh and gave Zelda a look so like one he’d given her just before the Calamity struck—on Mount Lanayru—something sad yet loving and utterly immovable all at once. She wondered wildly for a moment exactly how he’d introduce her—for she wasn’t his wife, not yet, but “fiancé” seemed an entirely inadequate word.

Fated. Soulmate. Destined. Those- those began to approach the magnitude of whatever connection had laid between them even from the beginning.

“Mom- Chee,” Link said, his eyes and smile still soft, still on her. “This is the love of my life.” His thumb stroked the edge of her hand. “Zelda.”

She and her smile warmed, his words an anchor to the present. Her free hand curled around his bicep and their foreheads somehow met, though she’d not intended to approach him.

His eyes on hers.

Those calm waters she always wished to dive deep within. They seemed to go on forever, further than Link himself could know, to a place warm, safe, and eternal.

Should she ever tell him so, he would give her his lopsided smile with that deep dimple of his. He would tell her the reverse—that she was his eternal goddess, and he worshiped her—that it wasn’t about him.

But it was about him. She knew it in her deepest self. They two were as one. When it came time for her to pass into the afterlife, she knew she would not go without him.

A sudden understanding drew an aching smile on her face for all the little lights in the darkness.

Though the silence between them bore no tension, its length emerged in her awareness. No irreverent remark issued from his sister; his mother had asked no questions of her. She turned with a flutter of dread, expecting, somehow, the spell to be broken—to see empty space where the spirits had been. Instead, she found their gazes on them, awed.

“What is it?” Link asked softly.

They seemed at a loss for speech. Their eyes traveled all around and above and below them, their hands locked together. His mother’s eyes fell on Zelda’s, and his sister’s on Link’s.

“It was you,” his sister said.

Link shook his head. “What was?”

“You… shine,” his mother said, her voice like a whisper in a cathedral. “Together. Like- the light of a thousand Suns.”

Link turned as though searching for that light himself. “Zelda does- she shines with her magic.”

 “No, Link. Both of you,” his sister said, shaking her head hard, her eyes shut for a moment. She opened them, squinting at Zelda. “I see you both ways right now. Before, I didn’t have eyes, not anymore. I do now, and I can see you sitting there, but I could see you before, too. You… you were the lights. You…” she gestured at them, her palm wide, “are the lights.” She swallowed. “Mom? Same for you?”

“Yes,” the older woman breathed. “Yes. I thought- Link, I’d thought the light had led us to you. I felt- so happy to finally be with you again. My little boy-“ tears slipped down her cheeks again, and she reached for Link, cupping his cheeks. “I thought- I still don’t understand- I thought I’d outlived you. I kept wishing, and wishing, and wishing in a sea of darkness to find you again.”

“We all thought you died at Fort Hateno,” Chee said quietly.

“But the light didn’t lead me to you,” said his mother with a tearful smile. “The light was you. And…” she smiled at Zelda, “you. And together…” she shook her head.

“Together you get a lot brighter,” said Chee. “Like, a lot. Way more than double.”

His mother laughed. “I don’t have the right words- to tell you- just how beautiful it is. I wish you could see it.”

Link’s sister raised her hand like a schoolchild, her eyes on Zelda, one eyebrow intensely arched.

“…Yeah, Chee?” Link asked cautiously.

“So… are you Princess Zelda?”

Zelda couldn’t help but laugh. “I am.”

Chee gawked and whacked Link’s arm.

“Ow-“

“You landed the Princess?!”

“It’s not-“

“And you didn’t even INTRODUCE her as the Princess?!!”

“Well, I didn’t want to- to-“

“To what, brag?”

“No, it’s just not what’s im-“

“It is so important-“

“Children,” their mother said.

They ceased so completely their hands froze mid-gesture.

The older woman offered her hand, palm up, to Zelda with a kind smile.

She took it, astonished to feel warm skin, no different from anyone else’s, a mere shimmer of blue at the outline setting her apart if she looked hard enough.

“My name is Junilla,” she said, placing her other hand over Zelda’s. “I am so sincerely pleased to meet you, Princess- and overjoyed that my son has found such love in his lifetime.”

Zelda returned the gesture, placing her other hand over the spirit’s. “I am grateful,” she said, “for this chance to meet you. That Link has been reunited with you after all this time…” she took a breath, “is a blessing.” Her gaze rose from Junilla to the eyes of the bargainer. The others’ gaze followed hers.

Chee traced the unfamiliar shapes of the statue’s eyes, a hand worrying in her lap. “How- how much time do we have?”

Junilla’s hand tightened for the space of a pulse around Zelda’s, searching the stone for an answer.

“The- bargainer didn’t say how long we could speak,” Link said softly, suddenly breathing strangely.

“The choice to move on is never mine,” the statue said.

Link blinked. “So- there’s no time limit?”

“I impose nothing. Yet my gift cannot extend beyond these walls.”

Link nodded, his face flat.

--

Ponnick and several Sheikah entered the space several times to check on them, so long they remained below.

They never appeared to notice the two strange women, though the Purah Pad had been able to take their pictures.

When she and Link finally left—at 5:17am according to the Purah Pad—the women faded without even a whisper of sound to two flickering blue flames, resting together beside the bargainer.

They would wait for Link’s father.

He and Zelda would begin their search in the depths beneath Akkala to find him—under the Citadel—though the bargainer warned that spirits may drift or become bound.

“End the final tide of gloom,” the bargainer said. “Only then may they all return home.”

Link seemed to understand.

They kept their appointments in Lookout Landing and Goron City for that morning and afternoon, having skipped their detour to the hidden spring of resurrection in favor of them. Link was unusually subdued as she’d expected, and her heart fell further and further as the day lengthened.

He’d barely smiled at Yunobo’s fist-bump.

He broke down in her arms, as she’d thought he would, at home in their bed, exhausted and shuddering with a grief which should have been foreign to him, as it should be to anyone—yet he had felt it before in lesser magnitude when the spirits of their friends, their allies, had become known to him, one by one and memory by memory, a sudden knowledge of what had been lost.

He’d even grieved over her in this way, for he’d no way to know she would emerge from the Calamity’s innards as a living being.

Zelda could not imagine it.

All she could do was hold him, kiss the crown of his head, stroke his hair, tell him it was alright.

“I am here, my love,” she said. “I am with you, and I shall stay.”

He nodded, unable, for the moment, to speak.

It was days later, the Sun a deep gold resting in a bed of lavender above the stand of trees west of their garden, when Link suddenly took her by the waist with his only-for-her smile and kissed her, gentle and questioning, then deeper as she rose to meet him, passionate, her arms wrapping about his neck, their bodies moving as a single unfettered wave. Her mouth parted from his breathless.

“L- Link,” she said.

He kissed her again, on her jaw—behind her ear.

“Are- you alright?” she breathed despite her body’s insistence that now was not the time to worry.

He breathed a very soft laugh in her ear and pulled back to look in her eyes. His hands left her hips to cup her face.

He spent a very long moment just like that. When he spoke, the sweet summer breeze danced with the sunflowers, his soft voice like its rustle through the birch leaves.

“I don’t want to remember what I’ve lost only to forget what I have.”

Her hand covered one of his, pressing it to her cheek.

“I love you so much,” he said, his smile growing, a joy nestled there despite the shadow always upon his features. A hint of mischief twitched his mouth. “So much we attract poes in the dark.”

A laugh burst from her. “Link- you are indeed the love of my life, but I’d rather thought it was our magic-“

But Link was shaking his head. “Magic, sure, for glowing when we’re alone, but… the light of a thousand Suns? That’s love. I know it.”

A memory burst to her mind’s eye, of a power as though the surface of the Sun itself, flowing from her as her knight clung to the thread of life behind her.

It had been love then. She knew that. Love of Link which had hurled her bodily before him, willing to die in his stead.

She pulled him close and tight—placed a long, gentle kiss on his cheek. He breathed a laugh and nuzzled her hair.

“You are- absolutely right, Link,” she said. “Absolutely right.”

They held each other, quiet, unhurried as the soft changes in the palette of the sky, restful as the setting sun, resting in the place sought by all the little lights far below—that place in Link’s eyes: a far deeper depth than any within this earth, for eternity had no limit.

She ought to have understood it sooner.

The lifetime of the Light Dragon had been a mere blink of an eye.

Link would love her far longer.

It wasn't transient.

Nor was his love for his sister, his mother, or his yet-unfound father. What resurrection had taken from him in life would have been found beyond the bargainer's crossing, just as she and Link would follow each other to the spirit realm, to whatever lay beyond.

Some well deep within herself whispered in the language of forgotten memories, a truth woven of silent echoes, veiled shades of her many selves passing through her as a thick-muffled feeling—and in that moment, safe and warm in Link’s arms, she felt they had done so before. Over and over again, passing in and out of death and life and realms and voids and time together, and always each other’s light.

She looked at Link, eyes and mouth wide open in a sort of shock, as though seeing him for the first time—as though just having remembered him.

“Zelda?!” He ducked, flickering from feature to feature of her face, his thumbs brushing tenderness on her cheeks and temples. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Oh- oh yes,” she said, her voice shuddering. Her next smile glowed, for him and only him, all else in reality falling from her present. “I love you, Link.”

He grew a smile to match hers and then some. “You sound surprised,” he said with a chuckle.

She took his face in her hands and kissed his mouth, softly, full of reverence, and it felt like a first time. Link’s palm came to rest flat on the table beside her, pressing hard, bracing himself against a force Zelda felt, too, and welcomed—a compulsion to rejoin, to reunite. A shocking elation flooded her that he was wholly him, that he carried no spectre of an ancient king, no matter how benevolent, by his side, and she surged forward against him, delving, caressing: worshiping.

Her kiss released by a hair’s breadth, the heat of their lips a promise of imminence. Link’s heart raced against her elbow where it met his chest. “Z- el,” he said, utterly breathless, even more than he’d made her.

“I’ve always loved you,” she said, her voice quiet’s paramour. “And I always will.”

He stood before her, an avatar of adoration, every aspect of his being focused on her, the softness in his eyes unlike any she’d seen outside those moments he watched her at pleasure’s height. He brushed his lips to hers—not a kiss: a caress.

“You understand,” he said.

She kissed him again, her hands carding through his hair, thrilled when his eyes fluttered shut. She pulled back, a pause. “I do, now.”

“Forever,” he said.

“Through death and life again,” she answered.

In bed that night, Link slept soundly, his arms wrapped around her and his head resting on her chest. She sat partway up against the pillows, stroking his hair and thinking in a way she hadn’t in her waking life: a thinking more like feeling—more like acceptance.

This life was a gift.

A time to feel with skin, with heart and blood.

A time to be separate.

Not because they wished to be—but because it made their reunions that much more joyful.

And when it came time to fade from the physical, there would be nothing to separate them. They would be as one.

Death was not the end.

Birth was not the beginning.

And love…had neither.

She held Link a little tighter, smiling at his sleeping grumble, and closed her eyes.

[trimbapandit]

Navigating Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh: Coping Strategies and Remedies   

Kaal Sarp Dosh is a common dosha that occurs in the Kundali during the time of birth. There are 12 types of Kaal Sarp Dosh and a person can be inflicted by any. Those who are experiencing Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh must know that it is probably a curse that happens in a person's life as a result of their bad deeds from the past life. A person who possesses this dosha will find their life turned upside down and problems related to every aspect of life may start to happen. 

When Does Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh Happen?

Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh occurs in a person's Kundali when Rahu is positioned in the seventh house and Ketu is in the first house. While the other remaining planets are located in between these two houses. In this dosha, the Rahu and Ketu are known to be located in one of the most important houses of the Kundali. A person who has been inflicted by this dosha may experience a number of problems in life. However, there are certain remedies which can help to reduce the negative impact of the dosha.

What is the Negative Impact of Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh?

A few of the negative impacts of Takshak kaal sarp dosh that you must know about include 

It can cause harm to the physical appearance of an individual where the height or weight may be not as much as they should be. 

The person inflicted by this dosha may give gloomy or pessimistic vibes. 

There may be ongoing difficulties in married life.

It may become difficult to achieve professional success as the native may have a strange personality. 

What Coping Strategies Can You Opt to Reduce the Impact of Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh?

When any person discovers that he or she has been influenced by Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh, then there are a few coping strategies that you can opt for. These coping strategies can help in reducing the impact of the dosha. All you need to do is 

Make sure to be calm with your partner and try to work things out rationally after a fight.

The native must practice calmness as much as possible and avoid aggressiveness.

Try to be considerably cautioned when you are entering a new business as the chances of being defrauded are high.

Instead of jeopardizing your connection with people, try to make friends. 

Do your best to stay away from unwanted legal struggles. 

Try not to help anyone with their finances, especially strangers. 

Make sure to be truthful and maintain emotional outbursts on other people. 

Are There Any Remedies Available to Eliminate Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh?

Yes, there are Takshak kaal sarp dosh remedies that you can follow to eliminate the ill effects of your Kundali and these remedies include 

Make sure to place a Kaal Sarp Dosh Yantra at the worship place.

You must fast on Shukla Paksha which falls from Tuesday to Thursday. 

You can read Hanuman Chalisa every day for 40 days and also the text of Bajrang.

The native can fast for 11 weeks and on every Monday. 

Make sure to worship Lord Hanuman and praise him with materials like vermilion paste mixed with jasmine oil.

Feed the birds every morning by soaking the maze in the water overnight. 

Make sure to wear gemstones to remove the ill effects of the dosha. 

You can perform the Kaal Sarp Dosh puja to eliminate the effects of the dosha.

Get the Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh Removed from Your Kundali 

The presence of Takshak Kaal Sarp Dosh may have caused several issues in your life already. But if you no longer want to suffer the curse from your previous life and want to get the Takshak kaal sarp dosh removal done, then look nowhere else but talk to us directly. We can help you eliminate this dosha from the Kundali entirely by conducting the Kaal Sarp Dosh Nivaran puja. Our renowned pandit ji Shri Satyanarayan Guruji holds great expertise in this field and will not only review your Kundali but offer the best remedies as well. We also provide free consultation and our services are available at reasonable prices. 

[data-privacy-blog-2ndsem]

Connected to the System

Module 4 has opened my eyes using two videos about social media. First is about ordering a pizza and the second is about Facebook. I find the short film about ordering a Pizza to be a satire about technology and data privacy. In the short film, a man ordered a pizza but the establishment has acquired a lot of sensitive data about the man such as his bank information, health records, and location. The reason being is that the establishment is connected into the system which is the source of the information they are using. However the establishment felt like a stalker. Deciding for the customer what they should be ordering. The man ordered an unhealthy pizza but was suggested a healthier option because the man is suffering from a disease according to his health record. I believe this diminishes the freedom of the man and felt as if his information is freely given away to strangers for their own benefit. Lastly, the man has been reported because he verbally abused the one who received the call because he found her annoying and he got upset because his information is readily available to the pizza house because it is connected to the system. The short film wants to show us in a funny way about the realities of the modern world and how it can be much darker. It answers the question what if your information is freely given to anyone? In such a way, you would naturally feel vulnerable and naked. You feel as if everyone knows about you and information that only you should know about. Your secrets and mysteries are no longer hidden from others. It is that sense of paranoia that makes you uneasy. Especially when doing something bad because you'll know that others will know of what you have done.

The second video talked about the information that Facebook collects. The man showed how he printed so many pages worth of his information that was collected by Facebook. Now they have given statements about how they collect data and how they store it but we do not really explore about it much until we see videos like this. I am not shock to say the least, I am aware of it and I stayed nonchalant about it. The app is such a powerful and marvelous piece of work. Even though you do not have a Facebook account, there is still a version of you inside their servers built using the information taken from other accounts. Now that I think about it, Facebook is like a crowd funded project. To gather as much information as possible. Wherein they fund with data, the new oil of the modern era. Making Facebook a growing oilfield. Rich with resources. Resources that fuel companies. I followed the tips given by the video but I kept using Facebook. Recently, messenger, an app related to Facebook, is using end-to-end encryption on every messages to ensure the security and privacy of messages. I remember that it is a feature before that must be toggled but is now the default for messages. Additionally, syncing chat history is also added and it is annoying. When logging into a new device, a password is required to access the chat history. However, it is helpful in providing better privacy to ensure that the information about the conversations that the user is having is only shared with the right people. However , despite how secure and private Facebook is, I still remember how they shutdown in a few hours because they were attacked with a DDoS by a group of hackers.

[randomshyperson]

THE SCARLET WITCH PROPHECY - Chapter VI - The Fourth Year (Final Part)

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. | Chapters Warnings: Heavy angst in this.

A/N: This took me a while, because i had writer block (and it's not over yet). Anyway, I hope people like this. Let me know if anything is confusing okay? Sorry about typos too.

Words counting: 11.344K

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

//-//

The Fourth Year - Final Part

Wanda was avoiding you. Well, not just you, but all your friends.

You told Gamora what happened, but you didn't have the stomach to repeat the story to anyone else, so your sister passed the news on.

You were coping well in spite of everything. You missed her terribly the whole time, but you were pushing the feelings down and trying to stay positive about everything.

By trying to put yourself in Wanda's shoes, you understood why she did what she did. You just had to find a way to prove to her that what you felt was real, and for that you needed to find out more about your magical bond.

Your best alternative to the lack of books about it in the library was to talk to the professors. Judging from your experience with them, none of the teachers would tell you anything. But Fury has been acting very differently all year, and although you don't agree with the way he has been teaching D.A.D.A. lately, you have the impression that he would tell you anything you asked.

That's why after a particularly exhausting class where he made all students practice the shield spell until one of the boys threw up, you waited until the room emptied to talk to him, watching with curiosity as he turned a small bottle he kept in his pocket to his mouth.

"What is it Stark?" He asked still on his back. You wondered if behind the eye patch he had some enchanted eye to see around things, but the idea seemed too absurd to you.

"Sorry, Professor Fury." You say. "I have a question about advanced magic and would like to clear it with you."

Fury put his materials away in his bag, and beckoned for you to accompany him into the private office, and you followed him into the small room, watching him set the desk on a coffee table and move toward a glass cabinet of magic supplies.

"Have a seat and make yourself comfortable." He said with his back turned. "I need to prepare a potion, but you can ask me what you want."

You stumble half-heartedly to one of the empty armchairs, and then clear your throat.

"It's about magic bonds, professor." You recount. "I... well, I think I have one. And well, I'm not finding much material on it, and I don't understand how they work."

Fury makes a noise with his mouth in understanding, his hands wandering through the cabinets behind ingredients you don't recognize, but he seems to be paying attention to both you and the brewing of the potion.

"Are you familiar with the concept of magical bonds and connections, Miss Stark?" He asks and you deny it. The professor cuts something that looks like mushrooms on the table as he speaks again. "The reason you can't find books that explain to you exactly the nature of this magic, is because no wizard has been able to decipher these enchantments correctly." He explains. "The magical bonds are one of the oldest and most powerful enchantments in the magical world, Miss Stark. Extremely dangerous, yet immeasurably valuable for some purposes."

You swallow dryly, but do not interrupt. Professor Fury bends down to reach a tin cauldron and places it on the counter in front of him, on a small makeshift stove. He deposits some ingredients inside.

"Have you ever heard about any of these bonding spells?" He asks and you think for a moment.

"I think I've heard about the perpetual vow, sir."

Fury gives a small smile, nodding. He sniffs a small bottle before pouring the contents into the cauldron.

"Yes, the perpetual vow is a great example of a magical bond." He says. "But it is still an active spell, you need to recite an incantation and both parties need to voluntarily close the bond. Some witches believe it's a contractual magic, much more than a natural connection." Fury explains. "I particularly prefer to use another example, Stark. The life debt."

Fury has a smile at the corner of his lips, and a strange gleam in his eyes when he looks at you for a moment, but you don't have the courage to ask. He turns his attention back to the cauldron, lighting the flame under the metal with his wand.

"I don't know what that means." You confess and the professor doesn't take his eyes off the cauldron.

"A life debt is a magical bond created when a wizard or witch saves the life of another magical being." He explains. "And I say magical being, not just another wizard, because I've seen it happen once for a centaur to owe a wizard their life. But never the other way around."

"How does that work?"

"It's very simple really." He says. "If you save someone's life, that person or creature will owe you a debt. The bond is created, without needing an incantation. The act of preserving a life is magical enough to create that bond." He explains and his expression turns almost somber. "The best part is that the person saved needs to pay back."

"And how do they do it?"

"A life can only be paid with another life." He declares. By now, the potion is smelling. You don't know what it is, but it looks like lavender, and it makes you a little dizzy. "I have witnessed a quitting in my time as an auror, Miss Stark." He tells you, and you already imagine that what he is about to say is not something you should tell a fourteen-year-old witch, but you don't think to interrupt. "The debtor throws himself in front of the Reducto incantation to prevent the death of the witch who saved him once. I still remember the pieces flying around the room."

You looked away, uncomfortable with the mental image you were given. The professor didn't seem to mind.

"But of course not all debts are paid off like that." He added as if he hadn't just told the story of someone tearing themselves apart. "Stopping a friend from falling off his broom in a game of quidditch might be enough to pay off a debt. Or to create one too." He counters. " This kind of magic has always been very difficult to decipher."

You murmur in understanding, keeping your gaze on the floor. The professor sighs lightly, moving away from the cauldron to sit in the empty armchair in front of you.

"But I'm guessing you're not talking about any of these bonds, are you?" He hints and you swallow dryly, feeling intimidated by the watchful gaze he gives you. You figure that lying is not an option.

"N-no sir." You reply. "I wanted to know more about protective bonds. Like... like the idea of someone you care about getting hurt, causes you a really bad feeling. And it makes you ignore your own safety and makes you go too far e...."

"Impressive." The professor interrupts, his gaze almost fascinated on you, and making you swallow dryly. "And how far are we talking about, Stark? What's the limit? Would the wizard put themselves in front of an unforgivable curse? Would they offer themselves up as a sacrifice? If one were to get hurt, would the bruises show up on the other, or does the very idea make your insides turn? Or…”

"Fury." You jump in fright when Strange's voice interrupts the monologue of the other man, who was very close to you now.

Fury looks annoyed that he has been cut off, but he turns away with a smile. "Pardon the interruption. I need to have a word with you on a matter." Stephen said, but he didn't look happy at all, and his expression was one of concern and disapproval, probably from the discussion he witnessed.

You stood up awkwardly, taking a step back, your heart still racing from the things the professor told you.

"Of course, Professor Strange." Fury spoke as he stood up. "Stark, I hope that has cleared up your doubts. If there is anything else you wish to ask me, you may come to my office as needed."

You bit your tongue to avoid saying that Fury only scared you rather than clarifying anything, and nodded in understanding.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts may not be my class, but I am also available to talk with you, Miss Stark." Stephen added softly as you passed him in the doorway. You mumbled a goodbye before walking out of the office, ignoring the horrible feeling that settled in your stomach.

//-//

You were really disturbed by the conversation with Professor Fury. The story of the wizard casting himself in front of a spell gave you strange dreams, and you could no longer be sure that you wouldn't do the same for Wanda.

Your friends were equally impressed by what you told them, and you ignored the feeling of dissatisfaction at the pit of your stomach that you felt because you wish you were talking to Wanda about it, and tried to be more grateful that you have someone to talk to at all.

You were thinking of talking to Tony about everything, and you thought you'd look for him in the Slytherin hall, and to your surprise, he showed up in your common room. You thought he was there to spend some time with Steve, but he really came to see you.

"Daddy wrote for us." He explains as soon as he greets you. The letter already open in your hands as he throws himself on the couch in the communal hall. It is Sunday, but the room is very empty because with the amount of free time and foreigners in the castles, most of the students are socializing outside. You had dismissed your friends' invitation to practice Quidditch in exchange for a nap, as you were upset by the way Wanda left the main hall at breakfast when she realized you were sitting at the Slytherin table with her brother.

"Finally." You grumble as you sit down in the armchair across from Tony, stretching out your arm to pick up the letter. It must have been the first letter in three months or more. Last time, your father had said he was overwhelmed with work and would not send any news for a while. You thought it would be days, but it was months. Jarvis at least wrote to tell that he was alive, working in the basement.

Looking down at the paper, you began to read:

"Dear children, how is school going? I hope you are studying as I have always asked you to do. I have been busy with an important project at the ministry, an invention to improve the astronomical forecasts of the wizarding community. Please forgive me for the lack of contact these last months.

Tony, I received the letter about the detention, and I was quite upset when I heard about the bet. You are the older brother and you should protect your sister, not put her in danger. But I am glad that everything ended well and hope that this kind of behavior will not happen again.

Y/N, dear, I heard about your willingness to start studying Muggle Studies, and I'm very glad..."

You stop reading the letter halfway through, frowning and looking at Tony next, who was lying with his head on the cushions and his arm under his eyes.

"What kind of crap is this?" you ask with confusion and irritation, causing Tony to let out a short chuckle. "Dad telling us to study? What the...?"

"It doesn't sound anything like him, I know." Tony interrupts and then sighs, sitting down on the couch to point to the paper. "And see how he doesn't make any jokes about the dare, or any comments about your incident at the lake? It sounds so mechanical and vague."

"Do you think he hasn't read our letters? He only mentions the one from school." You say and Tony leans back on the couch, thoughtful.

"I don't know. It just doesn't sound like him." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised to find out that Jarvis wrote it."

"Why would Jarvis do that?"

"Because Dad hasn't spoken to us in three months." Tony retorts with irritation. "And well, you almost drowned and he didn't even bother to read about it."

"Tony..."

"No, it's fine." He grumbles, taking the letter from your hands and standing up. "Screw him." Cursed the boy in annoyance, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room. You frowned, sighing. "We don't need him. I'll take care of you."

You were tired of this. Running a hand through your hair for a moment in frustration, you let Tony take your hands in his as he knelt in front of you next.

"I'm sorry I've been absent this while." He says surprising you. "I hated how all the adults were hiding things from us, and I did the same with you. I promise I will tell you everything from now on."

You nod in understanding, squeezing Tony's hand lightly.

"I need to tell you something too."

And you do. The whole conversation with Wanda and with Professor Fury shock Tony. And he has a frown creased in concern when you finish.

"I know it's a lot." You say. "But I'm terrified. I don't know what will happen to me if I lose Wanda, and all I can do is miss her."

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Tony says tenderly, releasing his hand to caress your cheeks and wipe away the dripping tears. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. I promise."

"What if you can't avoid it, Tony?" you retort softly, your voice whiny.

"I will." He assures you. "I will help you. We'll figure out a way to break this bond, and then you and Wanda will be safe."

You nod, deciding to believe his words. Your brother hugs you next, and you wish he is right.

//-//

Just like you, Tony was also unable to gain access to the restricted section of the library. But that is the least of your problems.

As the date of the last task approaches, you are a pile of nerves. Tony assures you that he will try to find something about ways to break magical bonds on the last trip to Hogsmeade in a local library, but you are barely listening to him, your thoughts wandering towards Wanda.

The other girl, on the other hand, continues to avoid you and your friends. Your only option is to ask Pietro about her, and he assures you that she is as upset as you are as if he is trying to make you feel better somehow. But all this information causes is a worsening of your distress. Pietro is not comfortable coming between you two, so you don't insist that he spend time with you or your friends, knowing that Wanda needs company. You also insist that Gamora and Nebula continue to spend time with the witch, but they comment that Wanda is not really sociable after the whole thing.

The rest of the school starts to notice the way the Maximoffs are no longer hanging out with you, and since everyone in the school loves a little gossip, the news that you and Wanda broke up starts to circulate very quickly.

You don't want your detention for the lake story to escalate, but it's hard to control the urge to jinx your classmates when their snarky remarks reach your ears.

"I heard they broke up because Wanda became a champion, and didn't want to be seen with a hufflepuff anymore." Said in a not so low tone, a Ravenclaw boy as you were walking ahead of them toward the Potions classroom.

"No, dude, that's not true. I heard that Wanda got pretty close to the other champion, Jean Grey, and obviously she'd go for a famous quidditch player than a nobody." Added a female voice, and you clutched the books in your hands tightly, but didn't turn around.

"Come on, the girl's a Stark." Retorted the boy. "I think Maximoff is a winner with either one."

The girl laughed lightly, and you wished you reach the classroom soon.

"I think you're right." The girl spoke up. "Maximoff has always been weird, I don't know how she got such great options."

Your attention wandered from the conversation when Mantis reached you. She went back to the dorm to get the potions book she had forgotten, and frowned at your annoyed posture when she arrived, but when she caught the words of the pair behind you, she threw them an annoyed look that made them fall silent.

"Don't pay any attention to that kind of gossip, Y/N." She asked gently and you just sighed.

"I just wish people would mind their own business." You grumble annoyed and Mantis agrees with a murmur.

Potions class was as difficult as it usually is. What surprised you was Professor Lensherr's tired appearance, but you imagined it must be because of the tournament finals that were being organized by the teachers.

When you were packing your materials, you almost knocked over the glass jar when he appeared in front of you.

"Stark, a word, please." He asked earnestly, and Mantis shot you a glance before hurrying to leave. The professor waited until the room was empty and then nodded to the door, which closed. "Wanda told me about your magic bond."

"Shit." You grumbled immediately, and Professor Erik raised his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, apologizing for cursing. "Look, sir, I don't know what else to say about it. I don't know where the bond came from, and I'm trying to find out..."

"I can help." He interrupts and you fall silent, surprised.

"Really?"

"Yes." He says straightening his posture and crossing his arms. "I obviously have more magical knowledge than you, and your nosy brother." He says and you understand that he is talking about the way Tony has been pestering the teachers to get information. "And if this bond affects Wanda, it is of particular interest to me."

You swallow dryly, nodding in understanding. You explain to him how you feel next, and Erik absorbs your words with a neutral expression.

"Interesting. I had my theories since you couldn't duel with Wanda in the second year, but since you became close, it wasn't my place to intrude.” He tells with a bit of a nostalgic face as you finish speaking. “I have a few questions, Miss Stark. I need clarification on the nature of this bond." He says with his arms still folded across his chest. "Last summer, Wanda had a cold. Did you feel anything?"

You thought about the vacation for a few seconds.

"No, sir." You reply. "I don't remember getting sick."

"I see." He says. "Tell me, have you ever had dragon pox?"

You nod in agreement.

"At how old?" The teacher asks, and you think for a moment.

"I don't know, four I think. Maybe five."

"Wanda had dragon pox when she was six." He declares, his gaze assessing you. You blink, trying to follow what he is trying to say. "It's not a very common disease in England, is it?"

"I don't think so." You mutter without understanding why the professor is looking at you like that.

"Wanda caught the disease in Sokovia, the country where she was born." He recounts. "We were on vacation and she came back sick. The last case of that disease here in England was almost a hundred years ago."

"I guess I'm unlucky then." You try to joke, and Erik almost smiles.

"The flu Wanda had last summer was not of magical origin." He adds, and you frown slightly, not knowing what to make of this information. "But dragon pox is magical in nature."

"Professor I don't..."

"Wanda broke her wrist at the age of seven." He interrupts as he uncrosses his arms, gesturing slightly. "She and Pietro were playing in the backyard, no magic."

"Okay..."

"I imagine Wanda has already talked to you about her exceptional magical abilities, Miss Stark." The professor continues. "Her visible magic, I meant. It started when she was three years old, when she was able to bring her toys into her crib and wrap them all in a magical cloud." Erik tells and you smile briefly at the image of a baby Wanda, but his expression makes you bite the inside of your cheek the next second. "I want to know how much of this you were able to experience, being on the other side of the country."

You swallow dryly, looking away and trying to think back to your childhood.

"I don't know, professor." You reply. "I was a child. Maybe Tony or dad will know something."

"Come on, isn't there anything you can tell me?" He insists. "Any specific memories, any strange dreams? Anything."

You think, and think, but none of your childhood memories seem relevant. And then you frown, remembering one.

"Actually... There was this one time I got really sick. I think I was about eight. Maybe nine, and dad took me to St.Mungus. I had a high fever, and I couldn't sleep at night with nightmares, but I don't remember what happened. They thought it might be the flu, but we never found out what it was. The next day I was better."

Erik was slightly wide-eyed and then he sighed.

"Before she came to Hogwarts, Wanda was afraid of losing control of her magic at school." He starts to tell. "I tried to calm her down, but she was very upset. She managed to convince Pietro to help her into my potions room and took an entire bottle of a brew for magical containment. Her magic seemed almost enraged, and she destroyed the greenhouse with a wave of energy. I've never seen her so out of control." He says thoughtfully, as if remembering the events. "She passed out from exhaustion, and didn't wake up until the morning. She was ten.”

"You don't think...?"

"That's exactly what I think, Miss Stark." He interrupts, "The dates match. Every time Wanda was in danger from a magical source, you were affected, because the nature of your bond with her is magical. And that was confirmed during the tournament by noticing the way you jumped into the lake during the second task. I imagine your little interaction with Professor Heimdall when Wanda was facing the dragon was about this as well?" He asks and you nod your head in confirmation. "Right. Well, that's a problem."

"I noticed." You grumble, but then realize from the professor's expression that in addition to what has been said, it seems to be a problem for another reason. "Why?"

"Regarding your safety, I mean." Explains the professor. "The last task of the tournament is going to be exceptionally challenging, and perhaps not the best of experiences for you."

You widen your eyes in anticipation.

"Professor, what will happen in the third task?"

"I can't tell you." He says. "But there will be many challenges. And Wanda may encounter difficulties, especially since she is only fifteen."

You sigh, trying to push the wave of worry down.

"I hate this tournament." You state in a mumble and Professor Erik gives a short little smile. "I hate to see Wanda in danger. If it's for the gold, she can have all mine."

Erik laughed, and you blinked in surprise at the sound.

"Believe me, I dislike this competition as much as you do." He says. "There is no pleasure in seeing Wanda in danger for something as superficial as eternal glory. But the goblet chose her, and she would have suffered a magical penalty if she didn't obey the contract. It was a difficult decision, but it was the best for her."

You mutter in understanding and the teacher is thoughtful for a few minutes.

"I would recommend you not watch the competition so you don't get so nervous, but clearly distance doesn't matter for the bond." He remarks. "I need more information about how all this works. I want to run some tests with you two."

You frown slightly, but before you can ask what kind of tests, the teacher speaks again.

"That will need to wait, of course. With the competition and the final exams, I understand that you are experiencing enough stress and I don't want to cause any more suffering." He explains. "Over the vacations, perhaps I can write to your father. It's time to see old friends again after all."

You are surprised that the professor makes this mention, but you don't bother to comment. He clears his throat, and signals that this is all. You thank him as you get up and then leave the room.

//-//

When the day of the last task of the tournament finally arrived, the whole school was in a joint peak of excitement.

You could hardly sleep, strange nightmares throughout your entire night combined with the anxiety at the pit of your stomach made you wake up several times during your sleep. In the morning you decided to ignore the buzz around the hallways about the task and the possible winner, and joined your friends for breakfast.

You wanted to talk to Wanda, but you didn't see her at the Slytherin table, and Gamora tried to cheer you up with news about a band you liked playing in London next month, but you could barely force a smile, feeling tired and irritated.

You heard a group of Gryffindors commenting excitedly that the occultation spell had been removed from the quidditch field, and that the gates of something that had been conjured for the last task were already visible, but before you could try to hear what they were saying, the boys were already leaving the hall and Pietro came to talk to you.

"Hey, good morning, how are you?" he asked curiously, taking a seat across from you at the table.

"Not well, if you want to know." You grumbled dejectedly, your fingers lazily stroking the piece of bread on your plate. "What about you?"

"Worried." He replied shrugging his shoulders with a small corner smile. "But I'm optimistic. Wanda is confident, and thinks she can win. And I'm trusting that everything will end well."

The mention of Wanda makes you sigh slightly and lean your chin on your arm on the table, looking at the boy in front of you.

"I miss her, Pietro." You confess upset and ignore the way Gamora and Nebula who are sitting next to the boy look at you with pity, but appreciate how Mantis strokes your back lightly. "She won't talk to me, and I can't blame her or even be mad at her."

"Wanda asked for some time, didn't she?" he asked slightly curious and you grumbled in agreement. "Well, I guess you have the right to ask the same."

You frown in confusion, and Pietro has a little smile as he pours himself some juice.

"What do you mean?" You ask.

"Ask her for, I don't know, five minutes of attention?" He suggests. "Five minutes to at least give her good luck. You look miserable, and I hate to see you like this."

You sigh, thinking about the idea. And then you smile.

"Thanks, P." You say as you raise your head.

"No problem." He says. "You can try now, Wanda should be on the lower floors. She wanted to talk to dad before the task."

You nodded in understanding and then said you would meet your friends outside.

It didn't take long for you to find Wanda. The girl was walking up the stairs as you were coming down, and well, she had no choice but to look at you.

You felt your heart race to have her looking directly at you after so long, but you ignored the sensation as you walked down the steps and stopped in front of her. Wanda swallowed dryly, but held her gaze.

"Hey." You greeted half breathlessly, smiling slightly.

"What do you want?" she asked uncomfortably, her gaze serious. You ignored the seriousness of her words.

"Talk to you."

"I already said I need time."

"I know." You said without hesitation. "But I also have the right to talk. Can you give me five minutes?"

Wanda looked away, and then at her feet. She sighed and nodded, and you waited for her to look at you again before speaking.

"I miss you, Wanda." You confessed and watched Wanda swallow dryly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away. "And I wanted to wish you good luck in the last task."

Wanda sighed faintly, nodding in understanding, her gaze on the stairs. You raised your finger to her chin, gently turning her face so that she was looking at you. Wanda closed her eyes as you fitted your hand to her cheeks, your thumb stroking her skin tenderly as she leaned into the touch.

Her hand moved up to your forearm the next moment, squeezing before moving your hand away from her face as she pushed your arm away gently.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling in your stomach and the urge to kiss and touch her again.

"Please don't do that." She whispered. "Don't touch me as if you love me as much as I love you."

You gasped, widening your eyes at the confession. But before you could add anything else, footsteps approached and Erik was coming up the stairs behind Wanda. The girl took a step back, wiping her eyes quickly.

"Stark." The professor greeted politely. You had a hard time disguising how much Wanda's words stirred in you. "Wanda, you'd better hurry up for breakfast. The task will start soon."

"Yes, dad." Wanda agrees and she doesn't look at you as she leaves. Erik nods politely and you stand on the steps for long minutes, your heart racing in your chest.

Wanda loves you. And you can't be with her.

Ignoring your broken heart, you turn and walk back into the hall, following the crowd of students who are making their way to the site of the last assignment.

//-//

The third task was a maze full of magical trials.

You gasped as you reached the sight of the large grass ones that were raised at the entrance to the quidditch field and the matched grass gates.

The crowd of students spilled out onto the bleachers set up in front of the maze, and you began to look around for your friends, ignoring the urge to run to Wanda and tell her you loved her back, not wanting to upset her before the task.

When the crowd was fully seated in the stands, and some students were already raising their cheering posters in the air, you watched the tournament judges move along with the faculty as Agatha took her place to announce the start of the competition.

"Hey, it's going to be okay." Gamora whispered to you as the director made the announcements. "I bet Wanda will be back before you can miss her."

You try to smile, your stomach turning in nervousness.

Watching the field below, you see the champions positioning themselves at the entrance.

Jean Grey had the highest score, so she entered first. The Durmstrang students cheering loudly until she disappeared into the maze.

Soon after, Wanda entered. The Slytherin people conjured a serpent of artifice through the air that disappeared as soon as she walked into the maze.

And then Maria Hill last, the Beaubatox crowd clapping their feet until she entered.

Just like the second task, all that was left for the crowd to do was wait once the champions entered. So as soon as the gate closed, the students started talking animatedly among themselves, in addition to the betting chart that began to circulate.

You also noticed that the reporters of the Daily Prophet were asking the cheering people in the front row about the bets for the winners.

Trying to distract yourself from the sense of worry that had taken over you most likely linked to the fact that Wanda was inside a place dangerous enough to kill her, you tried to engage in some of the conversation with your friends.

//-//

With thirty minutes to go, a movement in the field below caught your attention.

"Y/N, isn't that your father?" Gamora asked poking you in the ribs to call you, but you were already looking down.

Your father was not alone. There were four other witches with him that you had never seen before, but judging by their capes, they were aurors from the ministry, as they were dressed exactly like the witches that day in the cup.

There was a sudden movement among the teachers, and then the aurors were opening the gate to the maze and Headmistress Harkness was talking to the judges, all looking extremely worried. The crowd was buzzing, and it didn't take long for the comments to reach you.

"They're saying they're going to cancel the test!" Told a Ravenclaw girl who had just leaned forward to listen to her classmates, and then he turned and said to you and Gamora, making you both widen your eyes. You looked around next, in time to catch Tony coming down the bleachers from the side until he reached your father.

"What do you think happened?" Gamora asked you.

"I don't know, but it doesn't look good." You replied already moving to leave in Tony's direction. Gamora and Nebula looked at you, but you just signaled for them to wait up there.

When you reached Tony and your father, they seemed to be arguing.

"You didn't think to send at least a letter?" Tony squawked angrily, but your father was distracted, looking around and especially back at the entrance to the maze.

"I can't talk now, Tony, please." The man asked. He gave you a short smile as you approached, and Bucky and Steve joined you all next.

"Dad, what's going on?" You asked, but before your father could say anything, the principal was asking the students to return to the castle and the crowd erupted in booing.

The tournament judges were commenting quietly among themselves, and you frowned when Professor Erik approached and whispered something in your father's ear, who made a worried frown.

"Go back to the castle." Your father ordered looking at you and Tony, but you didn't move and Tony pushed your father's hand away.

They began to argue, but you felt your whole body shiver all at once, and you looked back, thinking that someone had called your name.

Professor Erik looked at you curiously, but before he could do anything, you ran past him and into the maze.

//-//

Gasping for breath from the run, you blinked in confusion as you stopped at a crossroads. Your head was spinning slightly, and you looked around.

The maze was dark, and the walls were high and shadowed the path. You noticed that the noise of the crowd was muffled from the inside.

Taking the left path, you were not fully conscious, following only the magnetic energy that seemed to pull you around the correct path.

Your wand was raised to your hand, an illumination spell that you don't remember conjuring. You frowned slightly when you noticed another light, and then Maria Hill was standing in front of you.

"Who are you?" she asked, but you didn't answer, walking past her in a mechanical manner. The girl looked at you with confusion. "Girl, can you hear me?"

"Wanda." You whispered without stopping your walk. Maria hesitated but then began to follow you through the labyrinth.

"Are you hexed?" She asked curiously but got no answer. When she tried to hold you by the shoulders, you pushed her to the ground. "Hey, no need for that!"

You didn't answer and Maria sighed in irritation as she stood up, running lightly to catch up with you as you turned the corner.

The tugging on your abdomen began to get stronger, and then you reached the center of the maze.

"Wow, you found the center." Maria commented in surprise next to you. "But where's the cup?"

You looked around confused, feeling the pain in your head increase.

And then noises of footsteps and shouting became closer and a moment later your father and Professor Erik entered the center through one of the trails.

"Honey!" Your father exclaimed worriedly, but before he could reach you, you fell to your knees, a shrill cry of pain escaping your throat.

Your vision blurred and you had another vision.

It was the graveyard from your dream, but now much clearer than before. You were attached to something, and there was a tall wizard standing in front of you.

The man turned around and you could see his red eyes staring at you with hatred.

"Erik, what is happening to her?" You heard your father's voice sound muffled by the ringing in your ear. You were trying to breathe normally, lying on the grass with your hands on your head.

"Look out, Howard!" It was Professor Erik's voice, but you didn't have the strength to look up.

"Protego!" Someone shouted the incantation next to you, maybe it was Maria but you can't open your eyes to see.

The pain in your head seemed to subside slightly and you forced your gaze upward, not understanding what was happening.

There were two bright lights in front of you. The image was not very clear because of the pain, but you struggled to understand what you were witnessing.

A wizard you didn't know was exchanging spells with Professor Erik. And Bucky was standing next to him, his robotic movements exactly matching those of the mysterious sorcerer. Your father was dueling with the younger one.

The unknown wizard let out an angry grunt, and said something in a language you didn't recognize, and then a green light shot out of Bucky's wand and hit your father in the chest, knocking him backwards.

"Stupefy!" Shouted a female voice from your side, and the spell hit Bucky squarely.

You whimpered in pain again, and could stare no longer.

A few minutes passed before you gasped back to consciousness, or perhaps it was hours. Your tears wet your shirt, and you coughed helplessly.

You raised your eyes to a scene that you didn't understand at first.

There were three people lying on the ground. A man you had never seen before, Bucky and your father, and Professor Erik was kneeling beside the last.

You blinked in confusion and then Tony came running out of the other opening and he widened his eyes when he noticed father.

"Hey, can you stand?" it was Jean Grey beside you. Maria Hill was holding you in her other arm, and you blinked in confusion at both of them.

"Where am I?" you grumbled, and then looked forward again. Tony ran up to your father, and you widened your eyes.

"Dad?" Tony asked with his face wet with tears. "Dad? Wake up!

"Stark..." Erik started as he touched the boy's shoulder, but your brother didn't look at him as he pushed his hand away.

You forced yourself to get up and with the help of the girls you succeeded. You took two steps and then fell to your knees again, understanding what had happened.

You had just witnessed your father being murdered.

//-//

The maze was dismantled from the inside out.

The rest of the teachers moved to remove the incantations and the maze disappeared around you, while you and Tony were kneeling beside the body of your father.

Soon there were reporters trying to reach the center, but Principal Harkness ordered them to stay away.

The aurors from the ministry were also there and they conjured a containment spell around the man who dueled the professor.

"We need to get the children out of here, Harkness." You heard someone say, but their gaze was on your lap, the hand you entwined with your father's.

"We don't know how many of them then here." Another witch said.

"Darlings, let's go inside, okay?" Professor Erik asked you. You were too tired to contradict, but Tony refused.

He said something about responsibility, and they did not contradict him again. You were led out of the maze, however, and the place where the entrance was located was empty.

The reporters who had been thrown out approached you and the ministry's auror immediately as soon as they saw you two, and you blinked at the flashes of the cameras.

"Can you tell us what happened inside the maze Miss Stark?"

"How are you and your brother going to take care of the fortune now that you are Howard's heirs?"

The lack of sensitivity made your stomach turn, but you were too tired to cry.

The auror who was with you said something to keep the reporters away, and then you were taken back to the castle.

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" The lady asked as she knelt in front of you, her expression concerned.

You sighed, feeling an urgency to close your eyes. You think she called you again before you blacked out.

//-//

When you woke up, it was warm. And when you realized that you were in the infirmary, it took you a few moments to remember everything that had happened. As you did so, you began to cry. Finally understanding that your father was dead.

Your pillow got wet, but you didn't care, finding it hard to see past the tears.

"Hey." It was Tony, looking extremely tired, standing at your bedside. You couldn't tell if he was already there when you woke up, or if he had entered the infirmary at that moment, but you didn't ask. He lay down on the bed with you next, and hugged you.

You know that he was crying too, even though you didn't look at him.

You eventually fell asleep between sobs, and when you woke up again, you were feeling better physically.

Tony was standing in the doorway of the infirmary, talking to the Auror who brought you in. When she noticed you looking, she nodded slightly to Tony and he looked at you, forcing a smile.

The two wizards walked over to you next, and you sat down on the bed.

"Hey, are you feeling better?" Tony asked and you shrugged. "Carol wants to ask you some questions."

You looked away from Tony to the woman, and she looked slightly embarrassed to have to question you after a situation like this, but she did it anyway.

"My name is Carol Danvers, Miss Stark." She introduced herself first. "I am an auror from the ministry of magic. I brought you to the infirmary, can you remember this?"

You nodded in agreement.

"I need to tell you some things, and then I'll ask you about what happened in the maze, okay?" She asked and waited for you to confirm before she started talking.

Carol explained to you how the dark wizard Korvac used polyjuice potion to disguise himself as Professor Fury all year long, and infiltrate the tournament organization. The real Fury was a family friend of the auror and was able to warn her in some way that she didn't tell you, and then the aurors used flu powder to get to Hogwarts. Your father was still an auror in secret to the ministry, and so he also joined the operation group.

When the Aurors arrived, however, Korvac had already entered the maze and they went after him. Neither your father nor the professor were supposed to enter the maze, but when you did, your brother followed, and consequently Steve and Bucky did the same. Your father and the professor went after, but the maze was enchanted to make everyone get lost, and that's exactly what happened. While you were guided by your connection to Wanda, everyone else was lost all around.

Carol told you that Korvac had found Bucky and used the Imperio curse to control him, so he was fighting on behalf of the dark wizard against both your father and your teacher. With Jean Grey's intervention, Bucky was knocked out and Professor Erik hit Korvac, but it was too late.

Everyone eventually found themselves in the middle and the maze was dismantled. Tony had already given his statement to the ministry, and Korvac was sent to Azkaban.

"Your brother told me that you have some kind of magical bond with one of the champions and that's why you went into the maze right?" Carol asked as you wiped away your tears. You sniffled slightly as you confirmed. "Miss Maximoff won the competition and she has also talked to my colleagues about what she saw in the cup portal."

"W-what?" you questioned with confusion.

Carol sighed slightly and then her posture changed. She looked back for a minute.

"Look, I trusted your father. He knew there was corruption in the ministry, and he warned me about it when he recommended me to work with him." She began as if telling a secret. "Let's keep that between us for now. I don't know who I can trust in that department."

Carol told about how the triwizard cup was bewitched to become a portal key, most likely by Korvac. She repeated Wanda's words to you, saying that the girl had ended up in a graveyard with the remnants of Mephisto's followers in place. Wanda also said that Mephisto himself had returned and that they faced each other. She managed to escape by touching the cup again.

What made you angry was knowing that the minister didn't believe any of her words, and refused to acknowledge Mephisto's return. The whole thing would be treated as a trial of the tournament that got out of hand, and Korvac, who had been captured, would be accused of all the crimes.

Carol didn't seem happy with the minister's decision either.

"I have nothing to say but tell the minister to go fuck himself, Carol." You informed irritated and the blonde smiled at you.

"You inherited your father's attitude." She comments and you think the intention is good, but it makes your heart ache. "I will close your statement then. Thank you very much for your time, Miss Stark."

You nod and Carol hesitates. She sighs lightly and touches your brother on the shoulder and your outstretched hand on the bed.

"I used to be friends with your father." She says. "Don't think you are alone, children. You have more family than you can imagine. And you can contact me if you need anything."

Carol smiles and walks away with a nod. You and Tony exchange a slightly surprised look. Tony sighs and sits down next to you on the bed. You say nothing, but you both know that this should be one more among your father's many secrets.

//-//

Nurse Cho released you from the infirmary that same afternoon.

Aside from the mental exhaustion, you were perfectly healthy.

Your friends, with the exception of the Maximoff twins, approach you in the dormitory. They hug you together, mourning the death of your father. You want to say that you feel a little better about this, but that is not true.

As you are seen in the corridors, students and professors stop you to say "my sympathies", and you answer them in a polite way. You can also hear the gossip after all.

Wanda did not obey the order of the minister of magic, and when the journalists of the Daily Prophet asked her about the tournament, she told her version. Nobody bought her story, and she was branded a liar after the minister denied the return of the dark wizard.

Professor Erik also greeted you in the hallways, and Pietro was with him. The boy hugged you tight, and you held back your tears.

"Stark, my home is always open to you and your brother." Erik said as his hand was on your shoulder. "I just want you to know that."

You nodded in understanding and then walked toward the communal hall intending to organize your belongings, since the school year would end that week.

//-//

On your last day at Hogwarts, you finally talked to Wanda.

Because your nightmares had become more frequent than ever, you had spent the last days at school without sleeping properly, and on the last night you gave up sleeping and decided to go to the kitchens.

You were in the empty halls when you heard the familiar noise of Drax monitoring the castle and stumbled to the first door you found, trying to avoid being seen.

As you waited for the hissing noise to become distant, you looked back and gasped in surprise.

There was a girl sitting on the floor and it took you a few seconds to realize that it was Wanda.

"What are you doing here?" You asked curiously, and your voice startled her. She stood up quickly, looking at you in surprise.

"Shit, you scared the hell out of me!" She complained and you frowned slightly as you realized she was crying, but Wanda quickly wiped her face.

Only at that moment did you notice the large antique mirror behind her. On the metal rim was a Latin phrase that you didn't understand.

Biting the inside of your cheeks, you looked away to the floor.

"Sorry to bother you, I couldn't sleep." You mumbled clumsily and Wanda shifted the weight of her feet before clearing her throat.

"Do you wanna stay?"

You raised your head in surprise, but then nodded in agreement.

Walking up to the girl, you stopped about four steps away from her, not knowing exactly what to do next.

"Are you going to tell me what you were doing here?" You asked again, and Wanda bit her lips before turning toward the mirror.

"I found this place in second grade." She counters. "That's the Mirror of Erised."

"I am supposed to know what that means?" You ask with mild irony causing Wanda to smile slightly.

"We studied that in fourth grade, so yes." She retorts.

"I haven't been busy this year, no time for books, if you know what I mean." You say with a smile and Wanda laughs softly. You stare at the mirror in front of you, but there is nothing special about it. It seems to reflect you and Wanda just like any other. "What does this mirror do anyway?"

Wanda turns her face to you, and you want to ignore the nervous feeling that settles on the edge of your stomach, but to no avail.

"Look closer." She says, and her gaze lingers on you for a moment before she takes a step to the side. You turn your face to the mirror again, and then step forward.

It takes a second for the image to change. It is you in the reflection, but you are not alone. Your father is standing beside you, smiling contently. You frown in confusion, gasping slightly at his sudden appearance.

Ignoring the lump in your throat, you continue to stare. The image trembles slightly, and you try to understand what the mirror is telling you. Nothing looks much different except the image of your father, but then you notice the wedding ring in your reflection.

You look down at your hand for a moment and then back at the reflection. Your image copies the movement with delay and you squeeze your eyes shut to read the letters on the ring.

Your face heats up as you read Wanda's name and you take a step back. The image becomes fainter, but doesn't disappear.

"What do you see?" Wanda asks curiously from beside you, and you startle, turning your head to her quickly.

"M-my father." You answer at the same moment, biting your tongue to make sure you don't say anything else. Wanda's expression tumbles, and she looks down at her feet. You swallow dryly.

"I'm sorry, y/n. I really am." She whispers, and you look away. There is something that is bothering you as much as your father's death, and it is the distance that seems to exist between you and Wanda now.

"Thank you." You mumble the response you have learned to give whenever someone says that to you. "W-what do you see in the mirror?" You ask next, trying to change the subject from you. Wanda looks surprised at the question and even in the low lighting, you notice the slight redness in her cheeks.

"My mother." She answers without looking at you. "And... myself. No magic. Just me and her, and Pietro and papa at a distance. We look happy and normal."

It is the most intimate confession Wanda has ever made to you. You want to caress her face, hug her and thank her for her trust, but you just nod in agreement, swallowing her words and pushing the desire to touch down.

"Have you been here many times?" You ask after a moment and Wanda sighs before confirming. "You never told me about this place before."

"I never told anyone." She retorts without sounding angry, just slightly weary. "I guess I wanted it to be something just mine."

"I understand." You comment as you look into the mirror again, the image of your reflection and Wanda's now visible. "A private space for you to visit your mother."

Wanda murmurs in agreement, and you think she won't say anything else, but she does.

"I need to tell you something."

You turn your head toward Wanda's direction, but when she turns her body toward you, she keeps her gaze on the floor.

"About the day of the task." She says. "About Mephisto."

"Okay." You mumble as you wait. Wanda takes a deep breath.

"I guess you've heard from the whole school that I fought with him." She starts with a sad smile, and you nod in agreement. "Well, there's a reason he couldn't kill me."

You frown with confusion.

"Right...why?"

"It’s better if i show you." She takes a deep breath, raising her hands between you. "Can I?" she asks, and you notice the red magic escaping her fingers.

"You can do that?" You ask impressed and Wanda nods with a shy smile. When you consent, she raises her fingers to your forehead and then you have another vision.

You see the moment when Wanda was teleported into the graveyard, and it's as if you're seeing everything through her eyes.

The moment when a hooded wizard appeared and locked Wanda in a spell against one of the tombstones. You watched the wizard walk to the center of the graveyard and conjure a rune on the ground that you didn't recognize. He recited a few words and then cast an incantation in the sky. The mark of a hydra.

Walking back to the rune, the sorcerer deposited a necklace on the ground. With a dagger he took from his pocket, he recited an incantation in a language you didn't recognize, and cut his own palm. When the blood fell on the necklace, Wanda gasped in pain.

The ground around the rune began to open up and a man crawled out of the earth. You imagined it was a necromancy ritual and they were resurrecting someone. You didn't have to ask to know that it was Mephisto.

When the wizard stood up completely, he laughed darkly. The man who helped him bowed.

"Master, you live!" Celebrated the wizard. Mephisto approached, a gentle flick of his wand wiped all the dirt from his robes, and you could see the metallic Hydra strolling along the entire length of his robes, as if getting used to being awake again.

"All thanks to you, John." Mephisto said his deep voice echoing through the room. "Your loyalty will be rewarded, my friend."

"Thank you, master." Said the man without raising his head. Mephisto touched his hood, pulling it back, and you looked at the kneeling figure. He was a man of about thirty, his blond hair was long and dirty. There was a deep scar across his cheek to the extent of his right eye, which was closed.

Mephisto raised his wand toward the young man's face, and a silver spell escaped from the tip along the scar. The mark didn't disappear, but when he opened his eye, you noticed the metallic glow of the reddish iris.

"Be my eyes again, John Walker." Mephisto commanded and the boy thanked him again. He continued kneeling as Mephisto turned toward Wanda, who was still attached to the tombstone. "I almost forgot about my guest of honor."

"Who are you?" Wanda asked angrily, you could almost feel her fear.

Mephisto smiled devilishly, ignoring the question as he took a deep breath. He raised his wand high and the Hydra's mark seemed to glow even brighter.

In the following moments, shadows began to appear in the sky, and only when the first one of them landed on the ground that you understood that they were wizards appearing.

There were at least eight of them, but because of their position, Wanda couldn't see them all. The masked witches remained static, waiting for their companions. Mephisto murmured softly, and after a moment without any movement in the sky, he sighed.

"It is only at our worst that we see who is really loyal to us." He comments somberly, before opening his arms to the crowd. "Friends! It's so good to see you all again, finally. So many years!"

Mephisto's smile doesn't reach his eyes, and then the wizards are kneeling, and recite together an "It is an honor, master." Mephisto laughs lightly, lowering his arms.

"Look at you folks." He comments with a psychotic look on his face. "You're not even ashamed that you abandoned me." He charges, but no one speaks up. Mephisto sighs impatiently. "No one has anything to say? What a disappointment."

"Master..." Started a wizard on the edge and then Mephisto raised his fist toward him hanging him in the air with his magic. Wanda's eyes widened, but the wizard let go just before the one in the air stopped struggling. As the wizard coughed to try to breathe again, Mephisto pushed his long hair out of the front of his face.

"I don't want your hollow apologies, Zemo." He says. "Nothing will erase the betrayal of all of you, cowards."

No one makes any mention of interrupting the speech, and Mephisto puts his cloak away momentarily.

"But a new era begins, and we need to leave the past behind." Says the mage. "I finally have my treasure where I wanted it, and nothing will stop me from reaching my power again."

Mephisto turns to Wanda now, a mental look on his face. The wizards look at her too.

"Master, is this...?" One of the masked men begins, and Mephisto interrupts with a devilish grin.

"Yes, my friend!" He says. "The Scarlet Witch."

The group loosely shares a buzz of excited excitement, but falls silent the next moment. Wanda wriggles uncomfortably against the spell.

"What is it, my dear?" Mephisto asks as he watches her struggle. "Is it tight? Try a coffin underground. I guarantee the discomfort is greater."

The comment makes Wanda clench her jaw as the group lets out a chuckle.

"I'm not who you say I am." Wanda retorts with irritation and Mephisto lets out a laugh approaching. You wish you could enter the vision to get him away from Wanda.

"Your name is Wanda Maximoff." He says looking her straight in the eye. "You were born in 1989 in a dirty muggle neighborhood of Sokovia. And you are a scarlet witch by birth." He narrates and then his gaze changes to malice. "And you belong to me."

"Fuck you."

Wanda's rude response makes Mephisto smile.

"Perhaps you, my dear friends, were not aware of what really happened that night fifteen years ago." Mephisto says as he turns to the group again. "I can only imagine the lies the ministry of magic must have told the world, making sure to tell I was defeated by some of their pathetic aurors."

The group exchanges surprised looks and Mephisto laughs, walking ahead.

"I think everyone has a right to know what really happened that day, don't you, my dear?" He asks Wanda, and then lets out a wry laugh. "Oh, I forgot that you were just a filthy brat back then. I'd better tell them instead."

Wanda struggles against the grip again and Mephisto raises his wand toward her, causing the spell to tighten more and Wanda to grumble in pain.

"Hold still and listen to the story, little brat." He commands. "Didn't the blood traitor teach you manners?"

You know Mephisto is talking about Wanda's father, but the girl doesn't respond to the teasing.

"Do you remember how well everything was going for us, my friends?" Begins the wizard, and he waits for the group to agree before speaking again. "I should have known that the cursed muggles in your community would bring more trouble than I expected."

Mephisto looks slightly nostalgic, but no one is going to interrupt him. He gives a wry laugh before continuing.

"You know that I was seeking the power of a scarlet sorceress for myself. And well, with all the commotion in the ministry, I decided to capture the child without being accompanied by any of you." He says. "I was always the most powerful, but now that I look back, a companion would have prevented so much delay."

When Wanda makes mention of fighting again, Mephisto strengthens the spell.

"I went to take what was rightfully mine in that muggle pigsty that is Sokovia, and I never expected that a filthy muggle would be able to stop me." He tells you and you notice Wanda's interest in the words, curious to know what he was talking about. "Maybe the traitor lied and she had some witch lineage. We'll never know, since I killed her." He comments humorously. "Contextualizing my friends, I went up to the second floor to get the child of prophecy, and I ended up running into two of them."

Mephisto counters with a wry laugh.

"Crazy isn't it?" He says. "But of course it was easy to figure out who the right baby was, since the sorceress' power emanated in the child's aura. I had no function for the other one so I decided to discard it."

Wanda's eyes widen at the confession. Mephisto was going to kill Pietro. She gasps slightly, feeling her anger rising.

"But the muggle pig begged for mercy." He continues. "You know very well how much I hate muggles, but if she had stood in the corner as I told her to do, I would have done no harm. But of course she had to throw herself in front of the infant, become a pathetic martyr."

The group laughs at the narration and you feel like vomiting. Mephisto stared at his own wand for a few seconds.

"I should have realized the sacrificial bond that was created, but I did not expect such a thing from a muggle." He counters somberly, sounding bitter. "When I skipped over her body and repeated the curse, it came straight back to me."

The group let out a chorus of surprise, but Mephisto just smiled.

"Don't worry, friends. I'm here after all." He says. "But a death curse is powerful enough to injure a body. And so I needed to escape." He counters as he walks around. "I would return for the girl as soon as I could restore myself, but where there is one blood traitor there is always another."

The group listened to the story intently and you swallowed dryly, trying to remember all the details.

"The traitor Stark and that muggle slut he called his wife were waiting for me downstairs." Mephisto counters and you hold your breath. "I knew that in my condition I couldn't stand up to an auror like Stark, but he could be useful to me. It was the perfect opportunity to have someone look after my belongings."

Mephisto sighed lightly.

"I think muggles must have some sort of self-sabotaging lifestyles about throwing themselves in front of spells, folks." He mocked causing the group to exchange confused looks. "I aimed at Stark, commanding him to protect what was mine, but it was the muggle who received the enchantment." He counters and you gasp in surprise. "Stark was furious of course, but I used the moments he spent assisting his wife to apparate."

Mephisto's expression was no longer content.

"My body couldn't handle the power of the apparatation, obviously." He counters. "After the curse, it began to betray me. I was on the brink of death for months, until I finally succumbed. My consciousness shallowed, waiting patiently for my faithful followers to find me. And here we are."

The group lets out a small exclamation and Mephisto forces a smile, straightening his posture.

"But that's in the past, of course." He says. "My sorceress is here for me, and I can regain my full power now."

Wanda swallowed dryly as she watched Mephisto approach. The wizard made a motion with his wand and the grip around her neck shortened slightly.

"I never had any use for the witch's receptacle." He says raising his wand to Wanda, you held your breath. "It's nothing personal, dear. At least you'll meet that pig of a mother of yours in hell."

The green incantation comes out of the small wood next, but never reaches Wanda. A yellow energy bumps into the magic and deflects it almost hitting one of the wizards in the circle. The group moves in fright and Mephisto has a psychotic but surprised look on his face.

"The protective spell... How?" he asks, stepping forward. “The spell killed the muggle, I saw her body! How is it still there?” He angrily asks .

His followers look as surprised as he is, and Mephisto assumes an angry expression. He raises his wand again, and even without saying anything, the emerald incantation escapes and the same thing as before happens. Distracted in his frustration, he doesn't notice that with each attempt, the spell binding Wanda grows weaker, until the fourth time he tries to curse the girl, the golden light explodes in the air, ricocheting light startling all the wizards in the circle, as Wanda falls to her knees, free.

The second of shock from the group is enough for Wanda to cause a wave of energy with her powers that kept the wizards away as she reaches for the cup at her feet, teleporting back to the school.

You stumble out of the memory, your eyes watering.

Wanda looks at you, but you turn away feeling overwhelmed by the amount of information.

"W-what was that?" You gasp taking another step back.

"I'm sorry if that was too much." She hastens to say. "I-I needed to tell you. About your mother."

You wipe away the tears, moving further away.

"I can't do this." You grumble. "Not now. M-my father just died, Wanda. I can't. I'm sorry."

The words are a little disjointed, but Wanda understands. She doesn't stop you when you rush to leave the room.

//-//

Coming home is much more difficult than any other time.

The ride on the Hogwarts express is longer than ever, but you don't mind, wanting to avoid the moment when you and Tony will set foot home without your father.

Jarvis picks the four of you up at the station, and you are grateful that Gamora lets you eat all her candy left over from the trip.

The whole feeling of stepping into the house and looking around and seeing your father's objects all around is oppressive, but you try to get used to it. You think the conversation with Tony about your mother can wait.

//-//

Tag list ( let me know if you want to be tagged or removed idk haha) @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia //   @ichala​ ||  @madamevirgo

[anyroads]

Not to be That Guy but I'm a bit tired of the all-or-nothing discourse on photographing/filming strangers in public. There were generations of conversations on street photography before ya'll came along with your hot takes, and it's much more interesting to think about how social media impacts that dialgoue than to just go yay/nay at a complex topic like you're the audience in a Roman colosseum. So here are my own hot takes:

No, it's not OK to exploit strangers just so you can get social media views.

No, it's not OK that it's become common practice to commodify experiences and connections with others into social media cache at the cost of having sincere interpersonal interactions.

Yes, it's OK to capture a person or moment that speaks to you, makes you feel something, and share it with others for the sake of sharing that experience.

Yes, it's OK to appreciate and share the connection you had with a stranger because they were interesting or made you curious.

Yes, sometimes people are learning and their photo/video may not be good (ie. not framed well, not focused correctly, etc.) but their effort may be sincere.

The reaction to the tik-tokification of the world shouldn't be to do the opposite and enforce a ban on others, but to think critically and just be thoughtful in general about how you you live your life in public and in private, whether you differentiate between the two, and how you choose to use tools like the camera on your phone to keep an account of your experiences in the world. Generations of street photographers have given us invaluable insight into what everyday life was like over the past century. What has changed the conversation recently is that cameras are now available to most people, the number of photos taken no longer limited by the finite nature of film, and the ability to show others increased massively. This makes this discussion more complex, if anything, and not as simplistic as thinking that photographing/filming strangers without their consent is inherently bad.

If you feel compelled to photograph or film someone in public, just ask yourself why and what you want to do with it. If you want to post it on social media, is your account locked and only visible to friends you want to share it with, or are you trying to get likes and followers? Why? Have you done any reading on the history of street photography and how photographers like Andre Kertesz or Lee Friedlander approached the process and whether that's something that could be applied today? Are you one of those people who reblogged posts about Vivian Maier when her photos were discovered but now frowns on tik-tokification but never connected or compared the two?

My point is, even though posting images of strangers on social media can be exploitative, it isn't inherently so and we should also be wary of stigmatizing the act instead of the intention/outcome and making it an all or nothing thing, because street photography is very much an art form, and we should make sure we don't discourage anyone from creating art just because we didn't want to think critically about what it is they're doing. And tbh I think it's a good exercise, just as a human being, to learn to ask individuals probing questions that make them think about their art - and their actions - instead of just either shutting them down or putting them on a pedestal.

I don’t have time to draw it right now but while driving home from the winco I saw a happy mustached man pedaling a bike, towing a cart built to look like a chariot, inside of which stood what I can only imagine was his completely expressionless 13 year old in a makeshift corinthian helmet

[yandere-dark-cupid]

If you’re requests are open can I get a Yandere Zuko x fem reader where after the war he looks for his darling by making his guards track her down but without anyone knowing bc he doesn’t want ppl to think that he’s back into his old ways again and keeps her in the palace

Ok Angel 💜👌💜. If you want, I could continue this as a mini part to part scenario series if I have the time T.Angel. There is just so many ideas worming around this concept and just think of the crazy things the darling and Zuko is going to go through, while also keeping both of their identities on the veeery low-key. Just let me know Angel 😊☕💜.

Also everyone is going to be aged up to 18+ Btw.

Side note: For the sake of this scenario, the darling will be from the Southern Water tribe. If this Angel decides to let me continue this as a mini scenario series, then the both of us are going to talk about if the darling can be a Waterbender or not.

Warning ⚠!!!: Their is going to be some slight Nsfw in this.

Yandere Zuko: A Dragon's treasure

Five weeks. It has been five weeks since you've went missing. Once the war has ended, Zuko was planning to propose to you. But every since his coronation of being crowned the new FireLord, you just up and vanished. It was like you were never there in the first place. And Zuko has been scattering everywhere in the palace and Fire nation to find you or some type of clue. But nothing. There was nothing there. You really covered your tracks, didn't you?

Right now Zuko was in his thrown room. He was fuming- No steaming with rage. If anyone were to walk in to the room, they'll notice it was boiling in there. He tried to look everywhere in the palace. Even outside the palace. But to no avail. Zuko couldn't find you. You've made it clear that you don't want to be with him or any where near him with this type of stunt you've pulled.

Zuko took a seat on his thrown. His hands was on his head, just about ready to pull his hair out and shout in frustration. But then a knock on the door stop him. " *Frustrated sigh* State your name and your business." Zuko said with spite and a hint of venom in his voice. The person behind the door flinched at his tone of voice. "It's me Sir. The guard you put in charge of the search party for Ms.Y/N". Zuko perked up at the mention of his missing lover's name. " Come in. " said Zuko. With out a second thought, the guard entered the room. She bowed down in respect for her FireLord.

" FireLord Zuko I have an update about Ms.Y/N's whereabouts. " Said the guard. She almost stuttered. The guard noticed how extremely hot it was in the thrown room. It was a clear sign that FireLord Zuko was pissed out of his mind. " Well, " Zuko said in annoyance and anger. Zuko was beyond angry at this point. He was a whole entire cluster fuck of emotions right now. " M-me and m-my crew found some people who could be connected to Ms.Y/N's disappearance , your majesty. " Stuttered the guard in slight fear. Zuko quirked up an eyebrow at what the guard said.

Ah. So the guard managed to find the ones responsible for his darling's vanishment, or at least had some part in it. " Bring them in. " Zuko said. The guard only merely nodded, not wanting to meet the FireLord's intimidating gaze. The guard got off their knees and went to call the other guards, to bring out the people that played some part of the darling going missing. The other guards quickly brought out four other people. Those people was tied up, bounded, and blind folded. The people was visibly quivering in fear. They were very confused and scared on what they did to upset the FireLord.

The four guards forcefully pushed the four people down to the floor. Each guard took off each person's blind fold. In front of the four people, there sat the FireLord in all his glory. FireLord Zuko glared down at the 4 people in a burning gaze. So these disgusting pathetic excuses of human was responsible for his darling going missing. Zuko scoffed at the thought. After a painful intimidating stare down, Zuko finally spoke. " So your the ones held responsible for Y/N's disappearance. " Zuko spat out to them with his voice dipped in poison.

" I-if y-you're talking about a someone that has (h/c), (e/c), and (s/c) then t-they came to m-my store to buy clothes." The woman stuttered in fear. Zuko stayed quite and only listened. " If you're talking about the same person; they came to my food stand and brought some food. " the old man said quickly in fear of what the FireLord would do to him if he took so long to explain himself. Zuko only merely quirks his eyebrow. " Y-yeah, that same person came to my Shop and bought some bags and extra equipment as his they were going on a trip. " The man said while sweating nervously. " The same person came to shack a-and brought some w-weapons. " Said the short lady in fear. Zuko only hmmed at what they said.

" So you're telling me the lady you just described went to all of your stores and shops to buy something. " Zuko said still glaring down the four people. " Y-yes. " the woman squeaked in fear. The old man only nodded quickly. " Mhm. " both the man and woman said. Zuko got up from his thrown and began to walk down to his stand. " What should we do with them you highness? " Said one of the guards. " Bring them to the dungeon. I will decide what to do with them later. " Said Zuko. " I-I don't understand what did we do wrong. " Stuttered the woman in fear and nervousness. Zuko quickly turned to the woman, the woman quickly shuts her mouth. Zuko then begins to slowly walk towards her.

Zuko shot one of his hands out and grasps the woman's face in a painful grip. The woman squeaks in surprise and fear. Zuko just merely just glares down at her. His eyes is filled with a flaming rage. " You all are held responsible for the disappearance of Y/N, " Zuko spat out in anger. Zuko releases his hand from woman's face. Zuko steps away from the woman and is now in front of the four bounded people. " Since you all play a part in my- err Y/N's disappearance, you all will be punished accordingly. " The four people only shook even more at FireLord Zuko's statement. " All of you take them away were they'll never see the light of day again. " Zuko said with venom dripping from his voice.

The four guards only bowed and said a quick " yes sir ". With that they took the four people away. Now Zuko was once again left in his thrown room...... alone.

Zuko let out a sigh of frustration out. He walked towards a window that was in the room. He stared down at his people, he was thinking about something. Based on what the four people said, Zuko can conclude that his darling is no longer in the Fire nation. Zuko dug into his pocket and took out something. It was a necklace. A betrothed necklace to be more specific. You see his darling was not from the fire nation, no no no. You were from a Water tribe, the Southern Water tribe to put it. While Zuko was on his trip to help Aang defeat his father and help him master firebending, Zuko found out from Katara on what her necklace means. He found out that from the Water tribe in order to marry someone, you have to make a betrothed necklace and give it to that special someone. When Zuko found out about this type of information, he instantly got rapped up about it. Ever since he's joined team Avatar he was thinking about what life would be like when he becomes FireLord, then his thoughts were drawn into marriage. He can't help but think, his darling would make the perfect FireLady. His FireLady.

And they'll have children. They'll be lovely children. With his darling swelled up with another one of his heirs all while holding another one of their children. It'll truly be a.. delicious sight to see ~ Zuko hmmed in delight at the thought of his darling bearing his children. But... that's if he witness such a darling sight. Zuko groaned at his mood being dampened and soured. But he knows it's true. Zuko knows if he doesn't act fast, he'll lose his darling. And that lovely little scene that played in his mind, will be nothing but a mere fantasy. Besides, he doesn't want to get himself accidentally sexual frustrated.....

With that aside, Zuko begins to start planning and strategizing. Zuko walks away from the window. He calls a servant, he orders them to get one of his best generals. The servant was slightly hesitant and confused, but never the less terrified. Wasn't the war over? They pushed their question aside, because they know now wouldn't be the best time to question the FireLord. He hasn't been acting himself lately and has been been flaring up at anything these past few weeks. With out much of a second thought, they did as they were told and went to see if someone could get one of the generals FireLord Zuko was talking about.

Zuko on the other hand, went back to sit on his thrown. He knew it will take time for the general to get here, so he decided to sit and be patient for him to get here. All while doing this, Zuko began to plan out in his mind on how he was going to get his darling. He was thinking about getting some of the Fire nation's best spies to help track down his darling. Sending out a whole search team and alerting the public while cause some type of panic. Not only that but he's trying to show that He and the Fire nation has turned over a new leaf, that and he doesn't want people and the other members of team Avatar know he's basically going back to his old ways. Since everybody knows the history on how he went to the ends of the earth to find and Capture the Avatar, and he's basically doing the same for his darling. It'll put a bad name on him and an even worse name on the Fire nation. So he'll lay as low as possible and keep shush shush about it, so he doesn't rise suspicion and ruin all the hard work he's been putting in the past time he's became FireLord.

With all those thoughts in mind, Zuko decides to call the same servant from before. So he can see if his message has been delivered. The Servant said they already sent a messaging hawk out to see if they can reach the general. Zuko only hmmed and dismissed them, and told them to report back to him once the massage has been delivered. With that the servant left, leaving Zuko in his thrown room. Zuko dug into his pocket again. He took out the Betrothed necklace out. He gently creased and rubbed the engraving and creases. He took so many hours and very much effort into making this for his darling. Looking at it always made him feel calmer, it made him happy knowing that his darling will be wearing it soon. But then his darling ran away from him before he can give it to them. Zuko pushed down on the purple garnet at the thought of his darling running away from him ( the rest of the necklace's gems are made up of smaller bits of Rudy and sapphire ). Zuko let out another sigh of frustration. He began to think. Once is darling is back with him he's never letting them go...........

My God, this was a boom ass idea. Not only that, but an idea of Zuko having a bit of a breeding kink has been floating around in my mind for some time now. I had a lot of fun with this. Like I said before T.Angel, If you want me to make a mini scenarios series about this let me know 😆! Well I hope you enjoy it. Until next time my Little Tainted Angels, see you soon ~💜❤💜

[ctvformehoustontx]

What are the Future Prospects for Fiber Optic Internet?

Fiber Optic Internet is the future of the internet, and the technology offers many benefits to the user. Fiber Optic Internet provides faster speeds, better connectivity, improved latency, greater overall reliability and is much less vulnerable to interference or data loss.

This makes it an attractive option for businesses that need reliable connections or gaming enthusiasts who require ongoing responsiveness.

Fiber Optic is also becoming increasingly affordable and accessible for home users, allowing anyone to experience the significant advances in speed and reliability this advanced fiber optic technology can offer.

The potential of Fiber Optic Internet looks very positive as organizations continue to invest in its development, making it more economically viable for wider access and usage.

Fiber optic internet is the future of online connectivity

Fiber Optic Internet is the newest, most advanced form of online connectivity available today. Fiber Optic networks use light pulses to transmit data at amazing speeds characterized by low latency and total reliability.

Unlike traditional copper-based connections that are hindered by distance, Fiber Optic networks can run over longer distances while providing a more secure connection. Fiber Optic Internet is capable of delivering lightning-fast speeds compared to what was previously achievable - up to 1 Gbps - making it the perfect choice for activities such as gaming, streaming HD video, and hosting large files.

As Internet usage continues to evolve, Fiber Optic technology will become even more important as it provides the means for faster systems and services now and in the future.

How to get fiber optic internet in your area

Fiber Optic Internet is one of the fastest and most reliable internet services a consumer can access. Those looking to get Fiber Optic Internet in their area should start by research their local service providers and confirming which offers Fiber Optic packages.

Many providers offer upgrade options and competitive prices, so it pays to compare plans online. Fiber Optic services are also often bundled with television, phone, or other home services for additional savings - worth checking out if consumer needs more than just internet. Most providers have simple installation or self-installation options available, making it easy and affordable to connect your home to Fiber Optic Internet.

The benefits of fiber optic internet over traditional broadband

Fiber optic internet offers several advantages over traditional broadband that make it a highly desirable choice for many.

Fiber optic internet is extremely fast, with speeds up to 100 times faster than traditional broadband.

It also has greatly improved reliability and latency, meaning it can transmit and receive data much more quickly than traditional broadband.

Fiber optic cables are also resistant to interference from outside sources such as electrical wires, which makes fiber optic internet less likely to be impacted by power outages or other interruption in service compared to traditional broadband.

Fiber optic internet also doesn’t suffer from some of the security drawbacks of traditional broadband, making it much harder for hackers or other bad actors to access personal networks or account details.

Fiber optic internet is the superior choice for businesses and residential customers alike looking for the best possible connection speeds and reliability.

How fast is fiber optic internet and what can it be used for?

Fiber optic internet is an incredible innovation that offers unparalleled speeds of up to 1Gbps, or 1000 Mbps. This level of speed offers an unprecedented level of performance compared to traditional broadband connections, and is capable of doing a variety of tasks in remarkably short periods time.

Using Fiber Optic Internet, downloading large files, streaming HD content, and sharing files between multiple users all become simple tasks that don’t even begin to tax the network’s potential.

Fiber Optic Internet is particularly useful for heavy multi-media use and online gaming due to its low latency rates, making it ideal for activities that require a lot from the user’s connection.

The rise of fiber optic internet

Fiber optic internet is quickly becoming the new way to connect with the world, providing faster access to information and increased reliability.

Fiber optic internet uses very thin glass fibers to transmit data of all sorts, from voice and video calls to emails and streaming services.

Fiber optics offer huge advantages over traditional copper wiring, allowing for speeds up to 1000 times faster than what was previously possible.

Fiber optics are not only fast, but they are also reliable due to the fact that they do not experience any losses in quality when sending large amounts of data over long distances.

With its many advantages, it’s no wonder that fiber optics internet is rapidly becoming more popular.

How fiber optic internet works

Fiber optic internet is an incredibly fast and reliable internet connection. Fiber optics works by transmitting pulses of light along a glass strand, this allows for data to travel faster than traditional copper wire connections because the speed of light is significantly faster.

Fiber optic internet allows for much larger transmissions of data compared to traditional copper wire connections and has higher efficiency than its predecessor. Fiber optic cables are also incredibly stable and they can transport large amounts of data over longer distances with minimal interference.

Fiber optics give users the capability to enjoy fast and secure internet speeds with lightning-fast download times, allowing them to quickly stream content like HD movies or send emails in seconds. This makes fiber optics the superior choice for many communications needs today.

Call on (855) 210-8883 to book your fiber optic internet.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (12)

(Are you guys getting tagged for these??? I’ve been putting all of the names on here, but it doesn’t look right.. anyway, sorry if the tag doesn’t work. I tried!!! Anyone else who wants to get tagged or asked but isn’t getting tagged, please contact me and let me know!!!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 11 / Ch. 13 (ao3) (Journal Entries- a mini series connected to this fic)

Chapter 12: Quiet Conflictions of the Heart

Felix tapped his pencil against his textbook, staring blankly at the words that he wasn’t reading. The minutes ticked by on the grandfather clock that sat across the room next to the stairs, informing him of exactly how much time he was wasting by sitting there, and moonlight poured through the wide windows in front of him, signifying the beginnings of the evening. The fact that he started this assignment during the day and still had hardly anything done should have been frustrating, but Felix’s mind was too far lost in other thoughts for him to care.

As soon as Rosemary found out about his direct involvement with the akuma,  they sent him, along with Marinette and the others, home for the day with light homework assignments and instructions to “take it easy”. The procedure was meant to help them regain composure and process the traumatizing events, but it only gave Felix more time to think. 

And think. 

And overthink. About him hitting the ground with Marinette, about her pulling them behind the fence only to run right out again, about her shocked and panicked expression upon being picked up by the akuma. 

About her flailing body falling from the sky.

Felix set his pencil down and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh. That scream still rang in his mind even hours later, sharp and blood-curdling, like a constant echo of a bad dream. He couldn’t help wondering what might have happened had Chat Noir not arrived on time, how she might have felt hitting the pavement, or if she would have survived at all. The very thought left him gripping his textbook and forcing a deep breath to relax. It hadn’t happened, after all. She was fine. Everything was fine..

And yet, no matter how many times he tried to push the gruesome images out of his mind, they continued to worm their way back in, fueled by how tame Allegra, Claude, and Allan’s reactions had been towards Marinette’s incredible risk of self. The girl almost died multiple times over the course of a single hour, and the only thing those idiots did was hug her and tell her that her actions were justified. Who cares if they were justified! Justification does not equate to rationality, and doing something for a good cause doesn’t always mean that it’s the right- or wise! -thing to do. 

Normally, he could brush it off and ignore it. The experience had been daunting, of course, but he could accept it knowing that Marinette had learned her lesson, realized how stupid her decision was, and vowed not to do it again. The problem came with the little fact that Marinette hadn’t learned her lesson. Oh, she’d apologized and admitted that her actions weren’t properly thought through, but it was clear that she didn’t intend on waiting for the heroes any time soon. He couldn’t quite explain how he knew- maybe it was how calm she looked when she returned, as though everything had been in her control the entire time, or how she only smiled when he asked her not to do it again instead of fervently agreeing to his request -but he knew. Her entire demeanor gave way to her belief that her sacrifice had been both necessary and acceptable, and it disturbed him to think of how far she might be willing to go under that belief. What if she challenged another akuma that wasn’t nearly as polite or rational?  What if she was alone next time this happened and didn’t have Allegra or Claude or himself to help her when things inevitably got out of hand? Why was she so willing to throw away her own life without a second thought?

“Felix?”

Felix flinched, his eyes snapping upwards. His mother stood next to the couch with a frown, which was odd. He hadn’t heard any footsteps approaching. How long had she been standing there?

Bridgette shot him a concerned look as she sat down next to him. “Are you alright, sweetheart? You’ve been on that same page for half an hour now.”

It’s been longer than that. He thought to himself, plucking up his pencil and closing his textbook. There was no point in leaving it open if he wasn’t going to read it. 

“It’s nothing.” He muttered. “History homework just tends to be monotonous after a while.”

Bridgette narrowed her eyes at him, though her tone remained gentle as she said, “Oh, come now. You don’t expect me to believe that. We both know that you would sit and read every history book available if you had the time. What’s wrong?”

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at the corner of his lips. She could always read him well. Too well at times. 

“Is it about the akuma attack?”

Felix felt himself stiffen, and he silently chided himself for it. That would be all she needed from him to know the answer. 

It’s not that he wanted to hide his distress from her. He was simply unsure of whether he wanted to talk about it or not. The threat was over now, meaning all of this worrying was somewhat unreasonable, and Felix didn’t want to express irrational thoughts to his mother only for them to fade away by morning. It would just make this a bigger problem than it probably was.

Then again, watching your classmate casually wave off their jumping headfirst into an akuma and almost dying was a decently sized problem.

Bridgette lightly touched his shoulder. “Felix, honey, if it’s bothering you, then you need to talk about it. You can’t let things like this weigh on your mind unattended. It doesn’t have to be with me, but communicate with someone, please.”

The amount of earnestness in her voice caused him to avert his gaze, and he began tapping his finger on the arm of the couch. Her wording could almost be considered amusing, as he had no one else to talk to aside from her and Father. Allegra, Claude, and Allan clearly didn’t care as much about the subject as he did- not to mention, he’d rather spend his days putting up ad posters for Adrien Agreste than confide in them about anything personal -and Marinette was the cause of the problem. Besides hovering around those four, Felix was a common shut-in who proudly (and happily) hid himself away in the penthouse with his books and, on pleasant occasions, Mother’s tea.

Nevertheless, he knew that Bridgette was right. He needed to get these tangled ponderings off of his chest, but to do that, he’d have to unravel them first. Where should he start? The attack seemed as though it had happened within five minutes, yet it also seemed to drag on for hours. Time is a shaky illusion when your entire body is buzzing with adrenaline.

“I just don’t understand,” He said slowly, beginning with the thoughts at the forefront of his mind, “how they can all act like nothing happened. Marinette risked her life for no reason, and they all want to treat it as though it’s an everyday occurrence.”

“Who risked their life?”

Felix and Bridgette turned towards the stairs, where Felix’s father was now standing. The man’s eyebrows knitted together as he continued his descent, similar to how Bridgette’s expression had been a moment earlier, and in a few, long strides, he was standing in front of them. 

“Oh, Francis.” Bridgette greeted with a smile. “I thought you were still working.”

“I was,” Francis replied, leaning down to give her a light peck on the lips, “but I came down to get a drink. What’s all this about someone risking their life?”

“Apparently, Marinette did during the akuma attack today.”

A disapproving hum came from him as he settled on the couch next to Bridgette. “Isn’t that the girl from school that he’s always talking about?”

Felix bristled. “I don’t always talk about her.”

A soft chuckle fell from his mother’s lips. “You do talk about her more often than anyone else, though.”

“Can we get back to the point?”

“Of course.” Francis said, lazily wrapping an arm around his wife. She leaned back against him naturally. “Start from the beginning. How did you get caught up in this akuma business in the first place?” 

Felix sighed, letting his irritation quiet down before thinking back on the attack. Where were they when it happened again?

“I believe we were exiting the café.” He said. “Claude was telling some story as we walked to our cars, so we didn’t notice the akuma flying towards us until she was landing in this gust of wind that knocked us over.”

A ghost pain trailed up his back at the memory of skidding across the pavement. He didn’t get a chance to see it during the battle, but the prickling sting of the injury told him that his shoulders and back had been scraped up immensely, especially during the second blast. If the miraculous cure hadn’t healed him, he probably wouldn’t hadn’t been able to sit up straight now. 

“As you can imagine, we were all terrified, since we’d never seen anything like this in person before, but Marinette wasn’t. She grabbed all of us and helped us hide behind a fence within the first few seconds of falling. It was like she hadn’t been phased by it at all.”

“Perhaps she’s simply more level-headed during a crisis.” His father suggested.

“I’d assume so,” Felix replied, “but it’s strange considering she’s usually someone who would jump at their own shadow.”

“True, but people with anxiety can still flourish in a stressful environment.” Bridgette remarked.

Felix tilted his head in a nod. He supposed that was true.

“The akuma said she wasn’t going to hurt anyone, only the buildings to get the heroes’ attention.” He continued. “But Marinette didn’t like the thought of that, saying the people in the buildings might get hurt or killed. So she decided to counter the claim by running out to the akuma to lure them away.”

“That’s very noble of her.” Francis commented.

Felix tisked. How many times has he heard that now? 

“Noble and stupid. She was a powerless bystander running straight into danger. Am I the only one who sees a problem with that?”

“Sometimes you have to try to do what’s right even though you might not be able to succeed,” Bridgette said softly, “but I can understand why you would be distraught about her actions. You didn’t want to see her get hurt, and that’s not a bad thing. It proves you care.”

Felix’s gaze flicked to the ground. Admitting his recent attachment to Marinette hadn’t sounded irksome before. She was a kind and compassionate person who hadn’t failed yet in giving him a sense of satisfaction after each of their conversations. Anyone with half a brain would gravitate towards her presence. After everything that’s happened today, however, a part of him was starting to resent that sentiment. Why did he have to care for the one person who would openly throw themselves to the wolves without prompting?

“What happened next?” His mother prompted, tugging him from his thoughts.

Felix drew in a breath and continued again. “She told the akuma that she could lead them to the bigger, corporate buildings, since that was apparently what they wanted. I didn’t understand it at the time, because wouldn’t that bring more death? But looking back on it now, it was probably a ploy to stall time. I doubt she actually intended on leading the akuma anywhere.”

It was quick thinking, considering they’d all gotten attacked seconds earlier, but it hadn’t been quick enough to account for the consequences. 

“The akuma accepted the offer and used more wind to carry Marinette into the air with them.” Felix paused, Allegra’s horrified cry resurfacing in his mind. “It was.. nerve wracking. We didn’t know what was going to happen or what the akuma was going to do to her later on.”

Bridgette reached forward and rubbed his upper arm, giving her silent support, and Felix leaned into her touch as thanks.

“I ran after them. I’m not really sure how, but I did.” He said, gazing absently towards the windows again. His reflection stared back at him, along with the glittering stars and illuminated city behind it. How many alleyways did he run through? Five? Seven? He knew he couldn’t see the cafe by the time he stopped, nor could he hear Allegra and the others calling. 

“I followed them for a few blocks,” He resumed, deeming the exact number of alleyways unimportant. It was what came next that shook him to his core. “I thought I had lost them at one point, but then I caught a glimpse of Marinette in the air again. She looked like she was talking with the akuma again, but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Then..”

Felix briefly closed his eyes, once again trying to push the image of Marinette’s flailing body out of his mind. 

It didn’t work.

“..Then she fell.” His voice was quieter than he expected, but he kept going anyway. “I’m not sure what happened. All I saw was this silver pole that came out of nowhere and hit the akuma, and suddenly, Marinette was falling from the sky and screaming.”

And screaming and screaming and screaming and screaming. He had to stand there and watch her fall, knowing full well that he couldn’t do a thing to save her. The feeling of helplessness that overtook him in that moment had been overbearing. 

A classmate passing away was not something he hadn’t experienced before- accidents happened every year, and sometimes, those accidents involved Rosemary students- but he’d never witnessed their deaths personally. It was something you heard about over the morning announcements or from your teacher at the beginning of class, not something you stood there and watched in a daze, and he’d certainly never lost someone that he-- someone that was so-

“I heard later that Chat Noir saved her mid-air.” He added, if only to help his parents’ nerves. The anxiety crawling across their expressions was evident. “I wasn’t aware of that until after I went to look for her, though.”

Until after he scoured the dismantled streets and ever-increasing debris for signs of her. Until after he lifted boulder upon boulder by adrenaline alone and being torn about whether he’d want to see her under one or not. Until after he called her name till his voice was hoarse and searched relentlessly for some kind of clue, like a shoe or a purse or even blood.

Gosh, he looked for blood! Felix was out there, in the middle of a terrorist attack, looking for the lifeless corpse or the splattered blood of his classmate, and everyone wanted to act like that was fine simply because she came back alright. How could any of them be considered alright after that?

“She could have died.” He stated for the millionth time it felt like. She probably will die if she keeps doing this. “But no one seems to care. They all brush it off because she’s safe now, instead of worrying about the fact that she purposely decided not to be safe beforehand.”

Bridgette let out a breath and pulled Felix into a hug.

“I’m so sorry that you had to endure that.” She whispered, her voice full of emotion. It reminded him of Marinette’s apology back at the cafe. The way she carefully held his hand, the warmth of her palm against his- it told him, in that moment, that she truly was there and that she truly was safe again. That confirmation had admittedly been one of the things to keep him from unraveling towards the end of the fight. 

Felix felt the slender fingers of his father ruffle through his hair. “You went through something that no one should have to go through, but you also made it out alive. And so did everyone else. Remember that.”

Bridgette’s cheek brushed against Felix’s forehead as she nodded. “I know it’s scary, and you have a right to acknowledge it in your own way, but don’t let yourself get carried away with the ‘what if’s and ‘what should have been’s'. You’ll never be satisfied with them.”

Felix heaved a heavy sigh and allowed his eyes to drift shut. After a full day of almost dying, almost watching someone else die, and worrying about both of those subjects for hours on end, he was officially exhausted. Felix couldn’t remember the last time he’d put so much energy into a single event.

Maybe it was best to just let it go..

~~~~~~

By the time Marinette arrived home from Rosemary, her parents were beside themselves with worry. Apparently, they saw her on the news while they were working and spent the last hour and a half trying to reach her. Marinette had been either running around as Ladybug or talking with Allegra on the phone so she hadn’t noticed her phone ringing.

They doted on her and hovered around her for a good twenty minutes, with Marinette insisting that she was fine and apologizing the entire time.

“Chat Noir saved me before I could really get hurt.” She assured, plastering on a bright smile. “And the miraculous cure healed any scratches that I might have gotten. See?-” she held her arms up and did a small twirl “-I really am fine. But I’ll try to keep my ringtone on from now on.”

Her parents’ worried looks didn’t change.

“We were hoping that transferring schools would keep you away from akumas.” Her papa lamented. “How do you keep getting caught up in these fights?”

“I don’t know, Papa.” She replied honestly. Maybe some of her partner’s bad luck had rubbed off on her. “I was hoping I wouldn’t run into any more akumas too.”

Sabine sighed and gently rubbed her daughters back. “Well, as long as you’re alright.. Would you like to see the package that came for you?”

Marinette furrowed her eyebrows, confused. “A package? For me?”

Tom nodded, a small smile returning to his features. “From a Mr. Claude Herolds. We put it upstairs in the living room.”

“Tried to.” Sabine corrected under her breath.

Marinette tilted her head slightly. A package from Claude? But what could he be giving her that he couldn’t give in perso-

“My fabrics!” She gasped, immediately shooting for the stairs. Her parents chuckled behind her, but she hardly heard them in her excitement. The fabrics finally came! How many were there going to be? What kind of fabrics? He hadn’t really specified when he talked about buying them, though she gave him as detailed of a list as she could. Oh, please, be the good ones-

Marinette threw the front door to their apartment open, coming to a dead stop as soon as she entered. The mere sight of their living room had her jaw dropping to the floor. 

Claude had indeed sent her a package of fabrics, but her parents happened to leave out exactly how much fabric he had sent. There were rolls upon rolls lining the couch and the floor, hiding in the corners of the room, sitting on the coffee table and the dining room table- it was too much to count. She was quite certain that she couldn’t see the floor!

Just- Just fabrics.

Fabrics everywhere.

Marinette turned to her parents, who had since caught up to her. They shared eager smiles as they waited for her reaction, and she quickly found herself smiling as well. In fact, she found herself down right laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Who needs this much fabric for three suits? How did Maman and Papa manage to bring it up in the first place? What did the deliverer think as he loaded this up into his truck to take to one person? How was she going to fit it all into her room?

Nevertheless, despite the insanity of the situation, she couldn’t help being ecstatic. This was more fabric than she could have ever dreamed of having, and it was all of the highest quality. So, with the help of her parents and her steely resolve, Marinette got to work on carrying the “package” up to her room in the attic. 

It took a while, as one would expect. They had to stop several times for Marinette to rearrange her room simply so she wouldn’t be completely swimming in fabric by the time they got everything up there. They also had to make sure she could reach her trapdoor to get out of her room, her stairs to get to her bed, and her desk to work with the fabrics in general. This resulted in her creating a sort of obstacle course with the few solid things in her room that she could stand on without the fear of breaking something. 

“I can’t even believe it, Tikki.” She said to her kwami once her parents went back down to the bakery. “Look at all of this! How am I even going to use it all? This is crazy!”

Despite her words of disbelief, she had the widest grin on her face, so wide that it was starting to hurt. Claude had told her that once she was done with his suit, she could keep any of the leftover supplies, since he supposedly had no use for it. She assumed it was his own little way of paying for the outfit, even though she’d told him that she would make it for free. 

Tikki zipped around the room, giggling as she inspected the different types of fabric. “You could make him ten different suits with all of this!”

Marinette laughed. “Tikki, I could probably make him thirty five different suits and still have some leftover.” 

She walked over to the piles of fabric in front of her and plucked up the first one that caught her eye. It was a deep blue silk that sheened under her bedroom lights, and she smiled at the mesmerizing display. Marinette had used silk before, but nothing like this. This was the type of silk that she imagined royalty to have, something smooth and soft and slick as butter. It was incredible, and she couldn’t wait to start working with it.

Marinette picked out a few more fabrics, the finest of the bunch, and brought them over to her desk to compare the colors and theorize how they might look together. If Claude was going to give her the best of the best, she was certainly going to return the favor by giving him the most regal and enchanting suit she could muster. Not to mention, this was an amazing, probably once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Fabric of this quality was something she could never get on her own without saving months and months of allowance, and that was only to buy one roll. The fact that she had piles upon piles of this fabric at her disposal now was a miracle in and of itself. She couldn’t waste a piece of it.

She rolled the blue silk out across her desk to begin measuring, but just as she pulled out her sketchbook for extra notes and other things, her phone buzzed next to her, informing her that she’d received a text.

DancingQueen: Hey guys! Mom said that February eighth would work well for the sleepover if you’re all free! I think it’d be a great way to celebrate winter break.

A soft, delighted gasp passed her lips after reading Allegra’s text on the group chat. With the whole akuma battle and receiving Claude’s fabrics, she’d completely forgotten about the sleepover that they talked about earlier.

She quickly switched the calendar app to check her schedule, and her smile widened at the sight of an empty time slot. She appeared to be free that day.

Marinette found herself beginning to wiggle with joy on her rolling chair as she switched back to the messaging app. This was going to be her first sleepover with her new friends! It would also be the first time going to one of their houses! What was Allegra’s house going to look like? Would it be a mansion like Gabriel Agreste’s? She hoped it didn’t have high walls. 

Another text drew her thoughts back to her phone, where a message from Claude had just appeared.

TheBetterShakespeare: works for me! What time are we gonna come over?

DancingQueen: I was thinking right after school like usual

TrebleChild: Sounds good to me :)

Marinette perked up when Allan joined the conversation. That meant most of them were going to be there! All they needed now was Felix.

She began typing.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: February eighth works great for me too! I’ll probably stop by the house for my clothes and stuff first though lol

DancingQueen: Of course! I can send a car by to pick you up if you want?

TheBetterShakespeare: Woohoo! Mari’s coming! All we need now is Felix

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Oh, you don’t have to! I don’t mind walking

DancingQueen: Are you sure? The walking distance is pretty far, and I totally don’t mind sending a car! (no pressure though. If you wanna walk that’s also fine!)

Marinette pulled her lip between her teeth in thought. Whatever the walking distance, she could probably just swing over as Ladybug within a few minutes. That way, she didn’t have to bother Allegra. If she got there too fast as Marinette, though, they might be suspicious.. Well, not suspicious, but curious because getting there faster than her legs could possibly carry her would be odd.

Ugh, just take the car. She told herself. It’ll be easier than carrying your luggage around while swinging through the air anyway.

TrebleChild: You think Felix is going to respond on here?

Marinette glanced down at Allan’s text and frowned. That was a good question. 

After the akuma, Felix seemed to shut down. He hardly uttered a word to anyone, even after they were sent home early from school. She supposed he tended to be quiet in the first place, but it just felt different. It was as though he were in some trance, lost in the distant corners of his mind. He wouldn’t even talk to her all that much. Not that she was someone special to him or anything. They just.. They normally exchanged more comments to each other than they did on the way out of the school. Either way, she’d be surprised if he actually texted them back that night.

TheBetterShakespeare: Oh he’s going to have to respond when I’m done

Claude’s reply caused Marinette to suck in a breath and cringe. Oh, what was he going to do to poor Felix now?

Allan and Allegra appeared to have the same thought, as they quickly texted back.

DancingQueen: Oh dear

Marshmallow Man: Uh oh

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Claude, maybe you shouldn’t bother Felix. He already doesn’t like the group

TheBetterShakespeare: LET’S

TheBetterShakespeare: FLUSH

TheBetterShakespeare: HIM

TheBetterShakespeare: OUT

DancingQueen: Claude, please-

TheBetterShakespeare: I’M

TheBetterShakespeare: NOT

TheBetterShakespeare: STOPPING

Marshmallow Man: Dude

TheBetterShakespeare: UNTIL

TheBetterShakespeare: FELIX

TheBetterShakespeare: DECIDES

TheBetterShakespeare: TO

TheBetterShakespeare: SHOW

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: What do you want?!

TheBetterShakespeare: HIMSELF

TheBetterShakespeare: Oh hey Felix!

Although she felt extremely bad for the blond, Marinette had to purse her lips to avoid laughing. She could practically hear the growl in his voice, and the image of Felix’s signature glare flashed through her mind. He had to be so annoyed right now.

TrebleChild: I’m surprised you didn’t just delete the app again

Rolling-Eye-Emoji:You know, that’s a marvelous idea.

The BetterShakespeare: NOOOOO ALLAN SHUT UP

DancingQueen: lol we were wondering if you were free February eighth, Felix.

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Free for what?

TheBetterShakespeare: Can’t you just tell us if ur free or not?

TrebleChild: for the sleepover at Allegra’s house

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: We’re still doing that?

TheBetterShakespeare: Absolutely!

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: If you’re up for it!

TheBetterShakespeare: Mari that statement was way too nice for Felix

TheBetterShakespeare: You gotta drag him kicking and screaming or he’ll never do anything!

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Why don’t you take a guess as to why?

TheBetterShakespeare: because you don’t know how to have fun and it’s our job to teach you

TrebleChild: Claude, you’re never going to get him to the sleepover that way

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Claude, you couldn’t teach a cat how to climb a tree, and I know how to have fun just fine.

Marinette snorted towards Felix’s reply. She often wondered how he managed to perfect his sarcasm and cutting remarks to a fault. Did he read a book on it somehow or was it just practice?

TheBetterShakespeare: RUDE

DancingQueen: lol Felix, are you free on the eighth or not?

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: ..I’d have to check my schedule.

TheBetterShakespeare: Don’t laugh at him Allegra!

DancingQueen: Hey, if it’s funny it’s funny lol

DancingQueen: Do that please, Felix

TheBetterShakespeare: Betrayal!! I can’t believe I was naive enough to trust you!

DancingQueen: Oh whatever. It’s not like you haven’t laugh at me before

Marinette chuckled as she continued to set up the silk fabric. She almost worried about using her sewing machine for it in case it ripped, but hand sewing it wasn’t an option either. That would take way too long, and she wanted to finish this for Claude as soon as possible. (without cutting corners of course)

“Oh!” She gasped, straightening in her chair. She hadn’t told Claude about the fabrics arriving yet! He’d probably want to know that.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Hey Claude, I almost forgot to tell you but your fabric arrived today!

TheBetterShakespeare: Really?!

Marinette smiled and stood up from her rolling chair to take a picture of the room. She then sent the picture to the group with an added message:

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: I could barely fit it all in my room!

The responses were immediate.

TrebleChild: WOAH

DancingQueen: CLAUDE

TrebleChild: you sent that much?!

TheBetterShakespeare: …

TheBetterShakespeare: I may have gotten carry away

Marinette giggled and shook her head.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: PLEASE feel free to get carried away anytime you like, I’ve literally never been happier

DancingQueen: lol

TrebleChild: lol

TheBetterShakespeare: Will do! 😉

Marinette smiled and set her phone down again, before rolling her chair over to the other fabrics to pick another one out. Her phone buzzed as she rolled back, notifying her of the new additions to the group chat. 

Rolling-Eye-Emoji: Mother said that the eighth of February would work fine.

Marinette let out a squeal. They were all going! This was going to be the best sleepover ever!

TheBetterShakespeare: Aw yisss group sleepover!!

TrebleChild : awesome, so we’re meeting right after school?

DancingQueen: Yep! Except for Mari who needs to go get her clothes. Did you want me to send you a car Mari?

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: If you don’t mind :)

DancingQueen: Nope! I’ll make sure to tell you when it’s on its way.

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: Thanks 😁

DancingQueen: Of course! See you guys at school tomorrow!

TheBetterShakespeare: See you Al!

TrebleChild: Bye A

Our-Cinnamon-Roll: See you tomorrow!

Marinette set her phone down and let out another squeal of excitement as she kicked her legs back and forth. 

Her first group sleepover with everyone!

How do you make time go faster?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester

[raeynbowboi]

How to Play as Link in DnD 5e (2.0)

With the release of both Mythic Odysseys of Theros and now the new big expansion in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything, I figured now would be a good time to reexamine Link with the context of new subclasses, class features, and game mechanics that weren’t around the last time that I built him. While I won’t do this for every character I’ve built before, characters who have new options made available with these updates will get a new rebuild for 2021. If you want to compare and contrast this build to the original, I will link that build right [here].

The Spirit of the Hero

Link’s a Hylian and that’s just a fancy way of saying elf. His best racial options are either the High Elf, the Wood Elf, or the Half-Elf. Half-elf’s extra skills are tempting, but as Link is never given any parents or an ancestral family tree, we can’t really justify him as a half-elf. We’ll call him a Wood Elf for the extra +2 to his Dexterity and the +1 to his Wisdom as well as that woodsy vibe. But if you wanna go for a Half-Elf for the power build, I won’t tell anyone.

Link’s alignment is tricky. On the one hand, he is shown kneeling before the monarchy, defeating the forces of evil and darkness, and doing odd jobs to help the common people he comes across. However, he can also start forest fires, break into people’s houses, smash pots, steal people’s life savings or personal belongings, and attack the chicken population until they attack back. I’d wager he’s Neutral Good if for no other reason than his morality is highly dependent on the player.

My first choice for Link’s background would be the Folk Hero for Animal Handling and Survival. However, Link’s background is so inconsistent, it’s easier to just list out the skills he tends to have and tell you to pick a background that has those skills, or create your own: Animal Handling, Athletics, Investigation, Nature, Perception, or Survival. There’s a case to be made for other skills as well. Acrobatics works a little and his jumps did involve sick flips in Majora’s Mask, but Link doesn’t tend to balance or platform jump very often. Link can play instruments fine and danced in the Subrosian Dance Hall in Oracle of Seasons for Performance proficiency, but he’s usually playing instruments to activate effects, not to actually perform for a crowd. Link shows some Stealth skills in Breath of the Wild, but this hasn’t been a longstanding skill of his, so I didn’t lump it in with his main skill list.

Becoming a Hero

When it comes to his build, Link has made some use of spells in the past, but he’s nowhere near the spellcaster that Zelda and Ganondorf are. Link is definitely more of a martial fighter who augments himself with a wide arsenal of magical items. So when it comes to picking Link’s class, we have a few things to keep in mind.

BARD

Link is a talented young man, and he has had magical instruments in a few games over the years, as well as dancing in Subrosia, among other things. While I don’t subscribe to the idea of Link being a bard myself, I understand why people would come to this conclusion, as Link isn’t really bad at anything... except talking. And lying. And looking threatening. Or haggling. Yeah kind of hard to depict Link as a CHA caster who isn’t proficient in any CHA skill checks. 

Spirits (UA) This doesn’t fit for every Link, but especially for Breath of the Wild where Link gets help from the spirits of his fallen comrades, the flavor of calling on the dead works for Link. For a non-BotW example, maybe Link can tell stories of his past lives, and the memories he shares with each of them.

Valor This college has the downside of being built as a cheerleader, while Link really should be built for solo-combat since that’s how he approaches most fights. But Valor is better than Swords and also gives Link proficiency with martial weapons and shields, while Swords does not.

FIGHTER

While there are many martial classes, the Fighter differentiates itself by being the most down-to-earth option. It’s not beholden to rage, or smites, hunting, or sneaking. It is the simple skill of the blade, and this is a skill Link has in spades. From the earliest games, Link has been a master of the sword, the shield, and the bow.

Battle Master Link is a strategic fighter. He looks for weak spots, and he exploits them the best he can. Of all the fighter subclasses, none is more clever than the Battle Master. Its many maneuvers resembles the numerous sword techniques Link has learned especially in the later games. Even in Smash, Link showcases how clever he is by being able to combine his arrows with his bombs and shoot a bomb arrow. To my knowledge, none of the other characters can combine their abilities like this in Smash.

Cavalier The subclass is poorly named, and was better in its initial name as the Knight, as that is really what this subclass is. It is the idea of the knight in shining armor. They can also be flavored as bodyguards, a traveling sellsword, or castle guards. So Link does not have to be glued to Epona to make use of this subclass. The main reason to want this subclass is the Warding Maneuver, as giving Link the chance to either block or reduce all damage he takes is going to seriously improve how well he can tank a hit, and help keep him in a fight longer.

PALADIN

More than any other class, the Paladin actually stands for something. They fight for a value or a belief. They swear their life to a cause and are prepared to die fighting for it. Link works on a lore level as a Paladin. Especially when he’s dedicated multiple lifetimes to the same cause. Across every timeline and game over screen, Link has always returned and stood in defiance against whatever evil may come. 

Ancients This oath makes Link sworn to the forces of nature, such as the Great Fairy, and protecting the balance and harmony of the light, life, and love against death, decay, and darkness. The Ancients Paladin is all about protecting the balance in the world and valiantly opposing evil wherever it might arise. It also has a druidic or fey aspect, which kind of works for Link.

Crown With this vow, Link serves the Hyrulian Royal Family. This makes Link the princess’ personal knight, and an agent of lawfulness, order, and peacekeeping in the land. While 5e has backed away from typecasting Paladins as Lawful Good, this is probably the most Lawful subclass one could pick, as it places the authority of the royal family above all else.

Glory Instead of being sworn to the light or the law, the Glory Paladin is the harbinger of the goddesses. They are flavored as legendary heroes of destiny, possibly being demigods or the personal errand boys of the setting’s pantheon. This subclass is clearly focused on being a frontline warrior, and the features make Link a true force on the battlefield.

RANGER

Anyone who’s played Legend of Zelda knows that Link is very good at surviving. The games don’t tell you how to navigate the wilderness, Link just has to figure it out for himself. What’s more, Link may be willing to venture into the wilderness, but he’ll be hard-pressed to find many NPCs that far outside of settlements or cities. Yet what they fear, he thrives in. And it’s no wonder that this is the class most peole would assume for Link.

Hunter This conclave is the slayer of all things that threaten civilization. They can choose to be better at chipping away at one enemy, counter attack bigger monsters, or mow through hordes of minions with more ease by taking out multiple at a time. Especially at higher levels, this conclave excels at ripping apart Ganon’s forces with nary a golden curl out of place.

ROGUE

The rogue doesn’t need to be a wanted criminal on the lamb. They can be a clever fighter with a variety of skills and a knack for evasion. That speaks a lot more to Link’s skill set than one might assume at first glance. It’s not a perfect fit for Link, but it’s really not that inaccurate either.

Inquisitive This roguish archetype is defined by being clever in combat, looking for weak points to exploit. They’re also much more observant, making them better at discovering clues or secret passages, or telling when they’re being misled. At higher levels, their ability to look for weaknesses can even increase their sneak attack damage. This especially fits some of the older games where boss fights were focused on using items to exploit the dungeon boss’ weaknesses, rather than hacking away at their health bar. In these older titles, Link was less of a straight up warrior and more of a clever trickster pulling off strategic victories.

Scout The Scout Rogue has heavy Ranger vibes, as they get free expertise in Nature and Survival, enhanced mobility, the ability to disengage from fights more easily, and at higher levels become masters of ambushes. This fits well with Link’s sneakier sniper playstyle that can be done in Breath of the Wild, as Link can take out entire camps without ever being seen.

Thief While Link is not a standard cutpurse, Link is a treasure hunter, a dungeon delver, and the jokes about him robbing the people of Hyrule and breaking into people’s homes doesn’t exactly help. The thief also gets to use more magical items, allowing Link to use things such as enchanted instruments without being a bard.

WARLOCK

Link usually isn’t the hero of his own volition. He often starts his journey with Triforce of Courage, a source of power gifted by his patrons. It’s honestly a weak connection, but it loosely works, so I’m including it. 

Celestial While this subclass is geared toward serving something other than a god, I don’t see any reason why a Celestial Warlock couldn’t serve the Triple Goddesses of Hyrule or even Hylia/Zelda directly.

Hexblade The most obviously martial warlock option, this is a good choice if you want to incorporate Fi into your character.

Link’s Toy Chest

Hero’s Sword - Longsword (+1-3) Mirror Shield - Repulsion Shield Hero’s Bow - Oathbow Gale Boomerang - Storm Boomerang Fire Rod - Wand of Fireballs (requires spellcasting) Mastersword - Sword of Zariel, Holy Avenger Longsword* Hylian Shield - Shield of the Hidden Lord  Goddess Bow - Ephixis, Bow of Nylea Golden Gauntlets - Gauntlets of Ogre Power Zora Tunic - Cloak of the Manta Ray Pegasus Boots - Boots of Speed Hover Boots - Boots of Levitation Hook Shot - Rope of Climbing

SIDEKICKS

Sidekicks are a new edition from Tasha’s that let Link bring allies on his hero’s journey. Experts are skill monkeys who focus on Help actions, Spellcasters dip into the INT, WIS, or CHA spell lists, and Warriors are trained to fight and don’t have to talk, so they can be animals.

Epona - Defender Warrior Riding Horse Navi - Expert or Healer Spellcaster Sprite Sidon - Attacker Warrior Merfolk Sheik - Expert Noble (Elf) Wolf Link - Attacker Warrior Wolf

Theros Piety

The Piety System from Theros lets us be devout to a god and earn features from worshiping them. As far as I’m aware, this is an optional feature, and not every DM will make use of these, but if you’re able to, here’s a handy guide. These gods really stood out as the clear choices for Link to go with.

Iroas - God of Victory

Domains: War Virtues: Achieve a great victory, Overcome slim odds honorably, Defeat a foe in single combat, Perform a great feat of strength or skill Sins: Being a coward in battle, Beat an honorable foe through deceit, harm innocents Piety Bonus: +3 Learn Compelled Duel spell +10 Learn Crusader’s Mantle spell +25 For 1 minute, creatures cannot gain advantage on you +50 Increase STR or CHA by 2 to a max of 22

Keranos - God of Storms

Domains: Knowledge, Tempest Virtues: Solve a riddle or puzzle, defeat an unwise enemy, plan ahead for an upcoming challenge, build or restore a temple to Keranos Sins: Jeopardize others through foolishness, ignore a wise course of action, fail to plan for a challenge, give in to anger or self-destruction

Piety Bonus: +3 Add 1d6 lightning damage to melee attack up to INT mod turns. +10 Reroll a failed INT or WIS saving throw +25 Advantage on Initiative rolls +50 Increase INT or WIS by 2 to a max of 22

Nylea - Goddess of the Wild

Domains: Nature Virtues: Help any wild animal, stop those who hunt for sport or profit, win an archery competition, slay an aberration, fiend, or undead Sins: Kill an animal without reason, Dedicate a building to or make a sacrifice for any god (including Nylea), protect a city from a natural disaster

Piety Bonus: +3 Learn Hunter’s Mark +10 Learn Speak with Animals +25 Attacking creatures must pass DC 15 WIS save or change targets. +50 Increase DEX or WIS by 2 to a max of 22

Cunning Tactician

Battle Master Fighter (12) Inquisitive Rogue (8) Fighting Style: Dueling Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Thieves’ Tools, Mason’s Tools

While Link is brave and strong, he is most defined by his clever mind and unorthodox solutions to boss fights. With this class split, Link has prioritized strategy and tactics over everything else. While it leaves him a little squishier, Link is still a very capable warrior. As a Battle Master, he got a free tool proficiency. Mason’s Tools allows Link to find secret passageways in stone walls, which most dungeons tend to be made of. On top of that, with his Feinting Attack, Link can give himself advantage, meaning he can use Sneak Attack even in a 1v1 fight, which fits his solo adventurer playstyle.

One-Man Army

Battle Master Fighter (12) Hunter Ranger (8) Fighting Style: Dueling, Archery Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Hunter’s Prey: Colossus Slayer, Multiattack Defense Tools: Mason’s Tools

I used this build once in a level 10 campaign. 6 levels of Fighter, 4 levels of Ranger with a +2 Longsword, and let me tell you something. This build creamed the competition, which was the other PCs at the table, who were also built as level 10 characters. Link nearly defeated his first opponent in a single round, dealing around 70 damage between his four attacks. When I say this is Link’s “power” build, I mean it. I didn’t even sweat when an adult blue dragon showed up after the tournament ended, that’s how much faith I had in Link’s ability to fight. I honestly forgot to even use Link’s battle maneuvers, he was just dealing so much damage that it slipped my mind. You could swap Battle Master for Cavalier, but for me, the Battle Master is more accurate to Link’s favor of techniques over basic hack-and-slash.

RANGER SPELLS

1 Absorb Elements, Ensnaring Strike, Hunter’s Mark 2 Cordon of Arrows, Healing Spirit

The Hero of Hyrule

Battle Master Fighter (12) Glory Paladin (8) Fighting Style: Archery, Dueling Maneuvers: Brace, Disarming Strike, Feinting Attack, Parry, Precision Attack, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Mason’s Tools

As a Glory Paladin, Link is driven by a desire to be a legendary hero, and at least in the UA version, the Glory Paladin served the gods, as Link does. Like the two builds above, Link balances the brute might of the Glory Paladin with the tactile diversity of the Battle Master.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond

Oaths and Promises

Glory Paladin (12) Celestial Warlock (8) Fighting Style: Dueling Pact: Blade Invocations: Eldritch Smite, Improved Pact Weapon, Maddening Hex, Relentless Hex

The builds from here on are more for the flavor than necessarily Link’s character. As a Blade Pact Paladock, Link becomes a CHA-focused martial with some extra spell slots that turn his smiting sword strikes into a bokoblin slurry machine. This build focuses Link more as a servant of the gods than anything else. Just make sure he has the Hex spell, but you can replace Maddening Hex with Agonizing Blast if you want to use the Master Sword laser beam at full potential.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Divine Favor, Guiding Bolt, Heroism, Protection from Evil and Good, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Enhance Ability, Find Steed, Magic Weapon, Warding Bond 3 Blinding Smite, Crusader’s Mantle, Elemental Weapon, Haste, Protection from Energy

WARLOCK SPELLS

C Blade Ward, Booming Blade, Sword Burst 1 Armor of Agathys, Cure Wounds, Hex 2 Lesser Restoration, Misty Step, Shatter 3 Spirit Shroud, Summon Fey 4 Galder’s Speedy Courier

To Serve and Protect

Battle Master Fighter (12) Crown Paladin (8) Fighting Style: Dueling, Interception Maneuvers:  Bait and Switch, Brace, Disarming Strike, Goading Strike, Parry, Riposte, Sweeping Attack Tools: Mason’s Tools

Link is Zelda’s knight, bodyguard, and servant. So this build prioritizes features that makes Link the loyal emissary of the Princess of Hyrule. As such, this build changes Link’s role to be more of a defender to the princess than a solo hero. This build assumes that the princess or someone else who needs to be protected is joining Link on his adventure.

PALADIN SPELLS

1 Command, Cure Wounds, Divine Favor, Heroism, Compelled Duel, Searing Smite, Thunderous Smite, Wrathful Smite 2 Branding Smite, Find Steed, Warding Bond, Zone of Truth

After all is said and done, I hope I gave everyone a lot to work with. Of course my suggestions are not law, and if nothing else, I hope it gives you an idea of how you want to build him. Last time I built Link, I gave one set build for him, but I still laid out other options. Recently though, I’ve been trying to show multiple builds at the end of my build posts to offer a wider idea of what building a character can look like. Happy 2021 everyone, and let’s hope this year goes smoother.

[titconao3]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

thank you @perverse-idyll for the tag! Oh dear, remembering and choosing… not my strongest points ;-) chugs coffee also, i'll cheat, sorry ^_^;; because my focus is bad, and has only gotten worse with every passing year, so i find it harder and harder to read, watch, etc. i'm also very, very bad at rereading/rewatching, in part because i don't want to be disappointed and find flaws or discover my tastes are different and what i'd invested in just isn't my thing any longer. So, some of this stuff is more about what was formative, touched me at one point, than things i'm necessarily still into.

Tagging whoever is interested! i'm uncomfortable tagging specific people because i don't want anyone to feel like they must, or alternatively that i forgot them.

Five Essentials:

- Quiet and alone time.

- An Internet connection: most of my friendships happen online, it's vital for work, and of course entertainment. Preferably on a desktop, if not then a laptop, if i must... fine, my phone.

- Silly mindless computer games. It used to be card games, these days it’s computer mah-jong. i used to love an old… Wikipedia tells me in English it’s called a breakout game? You're throwing a ball at a wall of bricks to break them. Mine wouldn’t work when i was playing something on Winamp at the same time, back in the day on my first computer. Never found one i liked as much, sadly! i need those games to forget myself and drop into some sort of trance-like state, though it's not working as well as it used to. (Where's that bricks game when you need it) Some games that sound like they should fit my needs stress me out, like snake, minesweeper, Tetris.

- Fandom. Once the Internet became more widely available and my English was good enough, 20+ years ago, i jumped in and never looked back, though at some times it’s a looser connection than at others. It’s given me language knowledge, cultural knowledge, the escapism I sorely need at times, skills (especially once I started organising events), friendships <3 …

- i won’t go out without a colour-changing lil necklace - don’t think it still changes colours but who cares? i may or may not have a pile of mood jewelry. @pixelbypixelfanfic has its twin and that’s why i <3 it. LOOK AT HIM

Four films/Shows

- Star Trek:TOS, including the films. We will not mention here the more recent Treks, of which i haven't seen much anyway - in big part because i'm so done with the constant retconning of Spock's life and fam, like cmon guys, as if Sybok hadn't been more than enough already. i may or may not have invested too much into Spock as a kid, although i love them all. First fandom, even before i knew what fandom was.

- Blade Runner (haven't seen the new one), because of the music, the visuals, the nods to Metropolis and how it also shaped the scifi that came afterwards, because of That Death Scene on the roof (yes, i know the speech by heart) and also Zohra's and oh noes Pris and that time i stepped into the Bradbury Building.

- i was #shook by a couple of Mamoru Oshii films in the early aughts, Ghost in the Shell & Avalon (music by Kenji Kawai), and since it was my Japan Era there was also Jin-Roh, that film we won’t talk about (Grave of the Fireflies), the Kenshin OAV (the one about his early years. TOMOEEEE!! i even bought the music. yes, me. music. bought. look it was a long time ago), and a couple more. Neon Genesis Evangelion, of course :-b (NOT Shinji ;-)

- Back when i was in uni, there was a cinema club where they showed films in the largest auditorium. i went almost every week, and that's where i watched Buster Keaton's The General (i dragged a friend who was horrified at the idea of a B&W silent film... he laughed out loud for 75 min straight\o/ ), Some Like It Hot, but also more recent stuff like the early Tim Burtons (this was the early aughts). The seats were horribly uncomfortable, some of the films were 3h+ long boring adaptations of boring books (no, i really do not like Madame Bovary), but it helped fueled my cinema-going years. i watched Korean films in tiny independent cinemas, that kind of thing ;-) Today, it takes a lot for me to go pay lots of money, sit still for 2/3 hours, grit my teeth while people keep noisily munching on pop corn and slurping sodas or whatever; i try to time my cinema-going for viewings with smaller audiences, but... So, i'll go a couple of times in a year, for something that will be entertaining and silly and won't ask me to focus too much (because it's not at home, where i can easily go back, pause, take a break to absorb and process, take my time, etc) like Jurassic World or John Wick.

Three books:

- The Discworld series as a whole, for its humanity and humour and on-point commentary and… and… flails everything

- Let’s add some manga i loved: Gunnm though i think in English it's titled Alita Battle Angel or something like that (one of the sources for my What-does-human/personhood-means kink, though it probably started as early as my first encounter with good old Spock), City Hunter, Saint Seiya (don’t think about the dubbing don’t think bout the dubbing don’t think about the dubbing). Also, Please Save My Earth, though i much preferred the OAVs visually. Liked the music, too.

- i used to be a voracious reader. Then, i studied literature for reasons, and it sucked all the joy out of reading books. Took years (and, to be honest, fandom) for me to start loving reading again, but i could never go back to ~The Classics~ . i read the entire Search For Lost Time at the time i started to disconnect from reading, and i remember nothing of it. i liked it, it just left no trace in me. So now i'll read the Vorkosigan series and love it, but don't ask me to pick up some Dickens. These days, i can't.

Re music, well - i don't really listen to music. i listened to some stuff as a teenager, probably in no small part because it was expected, i even took music lesson as an adult because i wanted to know how instruments worked. But as time goes by, i grow more and more intolerant to noise, and music is noise to me. i'll have the occasional YouTube trawl-through because i'll remember some old thing i liked way back when (liked, or more accurately that i associate with someone/thing), but often not even finish the song or piece of music. It's like, idk, ballet or skating for me: i can recognize the hard work and artistry that goes into it; it just doesn't do anything for me, beyond maybe a bit of nostalgia (until i remember that aside from less creaky bones and stiff joints, i don't want to go back in time and i don't miss my younger years). i used to listen to some film scores, and sometimes songs used in shows i enjoyed. Haven't done that in a long while, though. Now, if i want to shut out the world when i'm in the train or something, i'll put on a podcast or some white noise app.

Quote: nah, fandom’s free and i won’t put a price on it (whew, dodged that one ;-)

[worstloki]

please read the article 'How White Fandom is Colonizing "Character-Coding"' by Shafira Jordan and quit while you're ahead

Okay, so I read it and see the problem, and I’ll try to address all their points in order because I don’t wholly agree with the article. I know it’s a lot to read so I’ve put tldr; sections at the end of each :)

Misusing the Term Reinforces Negative Stereotypes for Marginalized People 

The article essentially argues that labeling characters which are villainous as POC-coded is bad because they’re not morally pure and doing so "reinforces the idea that people of color are naturally dangerous and not to be trusted.”

Which is fair as you don’t want all the representation to be of ‘bad’ characters, but I also don’t believe all representative characters have to be ‘good’ either as it would be equally racist to divide good/bad in such a way. Not that I would place Loki under ‘bad’ to begin with, but arguing that characters shouldn’t be labelled as POC-coded for reasons unrelated to what’s presented in the narrative or because they did bad things is :/ even if lack of good representation is a prevalent issue in current Western and influenced media. 

Ideally there should be a range of representative characters that fall into ‘good’, ‘bad’, and ‘anywhere in-between’ because variety and complexity in character types should, in theory, be treated as common practice (which can only happen with a multitude of representation!).

And a bit unrelated but... within the fictional context of Thor 1, all the Jotnar (sans Loki) are presented to the audience as ‘bad’ by default. They desperately want to get their Casket back to the point of attempting stealing it (from the ‘good’ characters), they fight the heroes and even when the gang and Thor (’good’ characters) are enjoying or going overboard with taking lives it’s inconsequential, Laufey wants to kill the opposing king (who just happens to be a ‘good’ character) and will resort to low-handed methods to do so, etc. The narrative itself is from the frame of reference of the ‘good’ and we only see warriors of Jotunheim though so we understand why it’s like this, because regardless of their race/experiences the narrative carries, even if it most definitely would be seen as racist from our real-life perspectives if the ‘monstrous’ race were presented by actual people of colour, even if it would make sense for the people on on different realms living in different environments to be different from each other, and realistic even for that to be the root of some conflict. 

tldr; not using a specific label to prevent negative presentations of the characters seems a bit strange to do when the coding would be based off the text, but with limited representation available I see why it would be done, even if I still believe minority-coding is free game to expand/interpret.

Improperly Labeling a Character as “POC-coded” Suggests the Experiences of All People of Color are the Same 

The article argues that labeling Loki as POC-coded “suggests that all people of color have the same experiences, when in reality, people of color come from different places, have different cultures, and have different traditions.” And while it’s true that the term doesn’t go into detail about which particular experiences (and these experiences can vary vastly due to diversity!) the appropriate measure would be to remove the umbrella term POC altogether as people of colour tend to also vary. But that’s also exactly why it’s an all-encompassing general term? It’s a way to denote anyone who isn’t “white” and has the associated cultural privilege that comes with the concept of white supremacy.  

And, obviously, in the fictional setting presented, the concept of white supremacy is not prodded at, but cultural supremacy is definitely one that makes recurring appearances, right next to the parts about Asgard being a realm built on imperialism with ongoing colonial practice. 

My take on this is that Loki’s narrative features a struggle with identity after finding out he’s of a different race and was being treated differently his entire life and being Jotun was presumably a part of the reasoning even if he didn’t know it. He’s basically treated as of less worth for inherently existing differently. I do believe that racism is a common-enough POC experience, but that while Loki was born with blue skin he passes/appears white which is why I don’t say that Loki is a POC, just that he has been coded/can be interpreted this way. 

There’s also the entire thing with Loki trying to fit in and prove he belongs by trying to fit the theory and be The Most Asgardian by committing genocide (which ultimately makes no difference as he’s still not the ‘acceptable’ version of Asgardian), and the denial/rejection of his birth culture in destructively lashing out towards them (which even Thor is confused by because Loki isn’t typically violent), and the fact his self worth plummets and he is passively suicidal upon finding out he’s Jotun (internalized racism? general drop in self-worth after finding out he’s adopted and has been lied to? Bit of both?), but what do I know, I’m sure none of those are, at their base, common experiences or relatable feelings for anyone or decent rep because we see such themes on-screen presented wonderfully in different lights all the time. 

tldr; every set of experiences could be different, some types of discrimination could overlap, if you limit an umbrella term to only very specific circumstances then it’s no longer an umbrella term.

Suggesting that White Characters are Meant to be Seen as People of Color Ignores the Actual Characters of Color that are Present in these Stories

I don’t agree with most of this section, but that may just be the way the arguments are put together, which I don’t blame the author for.

“ Implying that Loki is a person of color completely ignores Heimdall and Hogun, the only Black and Asian Asgardians who appear in the movie. ”

Characters such as Hogun and Heimdall which are played by actual people of colour have smaller roles in the films and any prejudice they could face for being POC in-universe isn’t made apparent, while Loki at the very least comes to the realization that something he couldn’t change (race, parentage,) was having him treated differently his whole life and had to come to terms with it. The Vanir/Aesir are also both treated similarly on-screen, and Heimdall having dark skin isn’t plot relevant, whereas Jotnar are treated as lesser consistently and are relevant through the movie (breaking into the vault, Thor and co. attack Jotunheim, Loki’s deal with Laufey, the attempted regicide (and the successful one XD), destroying jotunheim, Loki saying he’s not Thor’s brother,). 

I also see including characters as POC-coded as... more representation? In all canon-compliant interpretations of the characters Hogun being Vanir is always explicitly mentioned because it’s a fact that just is, up to the appearance and even the world-building of Vanaheim in some fanworks use particularly East Asian culture as inspiration. I have never come across a Marvel fandom Heimdall interpretation where he’s not Black... but because these characters are more minor/side-characters of course they get less attention! 

“ In Loki’s fandom, Heimdall’s name sometimes gets thrown in to suggest that it was he all along who was the real villain due to his “racism” against Loki and the rest of the Jotun. It is, of course, ironic to suggest that somehow the only Black Asgardian to appear in the movie can oppress the privileged white prince. “

I... don’t know where to start with this. But the example of theorizing given in the article wasn’t suggesting Heimdall was bad or trying to explain his actions in Thor 1 by saying he is Black... and just looking at a character’s actions shouldn’t be done less or more critically because of skin tone in my opinion. Heimdall may have been trying to do what was best and protect the realm but if the audience didn’t know that Loki was up to dodgy things then the coding would be switched around because he was trying to spy and committed treason and then tried to kill Loki. People... can hold feelings towards others... regardless of skin... and suspect them... for reasons other than skin... although I do still have questions about whether Heimdall knew Loki was Jotun or not. (Even if I personally don’t think it’d make a difference to how he’d treat Loki?)

Some Loki fans have also suggested that because Jotuns have blue skin that this alone makes him a person of color (even if the audience is only allowed to see Loki in his true Jotun form for mere seconds of screentime). This, again, shows a lack of understanding when it comes to race. It doesn’t matter what skin color the Jotuns have. 

Race can differentiate between physical and/or behavioural characteristics!! Not being blue all the time doesn’t make him any less Jotun!! He’s got internalized stuff to work through and is used to being Aesir!! At least 1 parent is Jotun so even if Loki was passing as Aesir he’s probably Jotun!! (I don’t know how magic space genetics work for sure but Loki being Jotun was an entire very important jump-starting point in Thor 1!!). It’s a fantasy text and typically things like having different coloured skin indicates a different race or is sometimes if a species has multiple then is just considered a skin colour. That’s how coding works!! The Jotnar are very specifically the only race we see in the movie with a skin-tone not within the ‘normal’ human range, which alienates them to the audience from the get-go!! They’re an “other” and on the opposite side to the ‘good’ characters.

Both Loki and his birth father, Laufey (Colm Feore), are played by white men, and it is impossible for a white man to successfully play a character of color. 

The specification of men here bothers me, but yes, you don’t get ‘white’ people to play characters of colour if it can be avoided. (And it can be avoided.)

This also connects with the previous point made that people of color come from various places. There is nothing specifically about the Jotun that could be traced to any specific person of color, and even if there were, there would be no way for white men to portray them without being disrespectful.

This is where arguments about the definition of coding and how specificity/generalizations and do/don’t come in. I know I’m subjective and lean towards the more rep the better, but while I agree ‘white’ people wouldn’t be able to respectfully play a POC I don’t think that rule should have to carry over into fantasy-based fiction. I know texts reflect on reality and reality can reflect within texts, but if contextually there is racial discrimination and there are similar ideas which resonate with the audience’s own experiences I’d say it’s coded well enough to allow that.

tldr; Thor 1′s narrative revolves mainly around Thor and Loki, of which race is kinda kinda a significant theme in Loki’s part of the story. Not so much explored with less-developed side characters such as Heimdall and Hogun, even though their actors are actual people of colour. 

How Much of this is Really Well-Intentioned?

In the fantasy space viking world Heimdall and Hogun don’t face any on-screen prejudice and their appearance is not mentioned (which is nice, for sure! good to have casual rep!) but adding on to the roles they play in the narrative the explicit fantasy-racism in the movie isn't aimed at Asian/Black characters, but towards the Humans -to a lesser extent- and the Jotnar, including Loki, who only just found out he comes under that bracket.

The article mentions how fandom space toxicity often “reaches the actors who portray the characters,“ which is true, and it’s shameful that people have to justify their roles or presences are harassed for the pettiest things like skin tone/cultural background, but I don’t see coding characters as removing the spotlight from interesting characters such as those which are actually POC, rather expressing a demand for more rep, since well-written complex characters which are diverse are often absent/minor enough in the media, and therefore can get easily brushed aside in both canon and fandom spaces.

tldr; It’s obviously not a replacement for actual representation, but, if a character is marginalized and can be interpreted as coded, even if they would only be considered so within the context of the textual landscape, I don’t see why spreading awareness through exploring the coding as a possibility for the character shouldn’t be done, even if the media is being presented by people who are ‘white’ or privileged or may not fall into the categories themselves, as long as it’s done respectfully to those it could explicitly represent.

[hopeymchope]

Wonder Egg Priority finale thoughts

My Tumblr has a lot of anti-bully content, so it was probably no surprise when I began to watch and enjoy Wonder Egg Project this past spring. The series famously hit production delays that forced them to put out a mid-series recap episode, and that decision in turn forced them to push the final episode until late June. But now that the series (or at least season 1) is out there and complete, I thought I’d talk about how it all shook out in the end as well as the questions it left me sitting with.

For the uninitiated, here’s a bit of the context: Wonder Egg Project deals with four middle-school teen girls who’ve undergone hardships either at home or at school or both. They all lose someone they care about to tragic suicides, and then they discover the titular wonder eggs. They get these eggs from a vending machine and then, when they fall asleep, they enter a dreamworld where these eggs hatch to reveal a young person who recently committed suicide. For that night, it is the duty of the girl who got that egg to fight and defend that suicide victim from monstrous enemies that represent their abusers and oppressors. The girls are told that if they protect enough of these victims over many nights, they will be able to resurrect the specific person they lost to suicide. But of course, if you get injured or killed in the dreamworld, it affects your body in reality as well. 

The squad: Ai, Neiru, Rika, and Momoe.

Obviously, bullying is among the topics most frequently explored here, but we also deal with so many other terrible things that people might experience during childhood and adolescence. Physical, verbal, and sexual abuse are all on the table. Coming to terms with one’s gender identity is raised. It’s a show that manages to tackle a lot of heavy subjects through the lens of what’s essentially magical girl combat. I mean, there are no outfit transformations or any of that stuff, but still.

With THAT out of the way, let me talk about how the series wrapped up.

It’s clear to the viewers that there’s a lot that doesn’t make sense during the show — it’s intentionally very trippy and ethereal at times — and there’s also a lot that raises obvious questions even if you grasp it. Where do the eggs and their connection to the recently deceased come from? How do the psychological traumas of the various egg-children manifest as monsters that can literally kill you? What’s the deal with Acca and Ura-Acca and their freaky dummy bodies? What are they getting out of this whole deal with the eggs and the girls? What do the repeated references to the “temptation of death” mean? How does access to the Egg Garden even work? Is it really possible to resurrect their dead friends? Is Mr. Sawaki a predator or a chill guy or what? Why did Neiru’s sister stab her? And so on. 

The writers could’ve opted to keep things mysterious and hazy and metaphysical for the entire run or they could’ve provided lots of explanations and tried to ground this weird story in some sort of strange logic, but I’m actually pleased that they opted to go down the middle. There are answers for many things, but not for all. And when those answers come, they typically just raise more questions as well as doubts to their validity. 

SPOILERS for the finale/”special episode” below the cut.

So, obviously the answers for Acca and Ura-Acca are centered around Frill. Frill is this interesting fusion between the artificial and the organic; her body can be injured like any regular physical body, but she’s actually an A.I. on the inside. Acca and Ura-Acca are the exact reverse of this — they’re human minds inside of completely artificial bodies. Exactly how Frill started invading girls’ minds to lure them towards suicide is kept incredibly vague, but she serves as the embodiment of the “temptation of death” that was so-often referenced in the show. Frill doesn’t really appreciate life or care about the finality of death, making her a pretty natural foe for the heroes who have spent the entire series learning to appreciate their lives and bemoaning painful losses.

Can you even believe this bitch?

Acca and Ura-Acca also have documents talking about how warriors of Eros need to battle against Thanatos, the embodiment of death, but what’s that all about? We don’t really get into it. Is Frill somehow Thanatos herself? I mean... I guess maybe you could go that route, but I sincerely don’t think that’s meant to be the case. I assume she’s just another player in the game, and she happens to have taken Thanatos’ side in things. Her artificial existence and resentment of her fathers leads her to treat death flippantly. She was programmed to be selfish sometimes, and that selfishness has ultimately manifested itself in the worst possible ways. Intriguingly, we see Acca and Ura-Acca act similarly selfish in how they drive our four heroes to risk their lives just to battle Frill. Acca in particular shows that he’ll risk anyone’s life to get to Frill, who killed both his wife and daughter. But Acca never has to risk his own life. He’s just risking other people. Both sides of the equation are treating human lives like disposable pawns in some kind of war game. 

Y’all are SUPER-SKETCH.

It’s never really clear how these eggs work. We’re told that the Accas created the eggs, and honestly, I could’ve figured as much on my own. But they don’t try to explain how the eggs can contain the souls of suicide victims or how they manifest those people into dreams, and frankly, it’s probably better not to try.

I was really shocked that the girls actually manage to resurrect their dead friends. I was 100% certain that was going to be a scam and the point was going to be about learning to move on and live for the moment and appreciate those bonds while you had them, etc. And there is some of that. Alas, the price of resurrecting those people they care about is that the people in question no longer know them or remember them. That was pretty brutal... having our heroes nearly die over and over in service of people who ultimately will no longer care about them at all. Although they did the impossible and brought someone back to life, they had to lose those people all over again. I suppose this, like much fo the finale, emphasizes that we should appreciate our relationships while they last, because you can lose them for so many reasons. Regardless, I’m not surprised that Momoe just wanted to quit and avoid getting hurt after that. It’s understandable.

There’s a lot of discussion around parallels in the last two episodes. Parallel worlds with alternate versions of the self are raised multiple times, Ai gets an awesome encounter with a parallel version of herself that really brought her emotional journey to a head, and we even have to deal with a doppleganger of Neiru at the end. This leads to the revelation that Neiru looks exactly like her formerly deceased sister... a fact that presumably was part of what drove the sister to attack Neiru in the first place. Given that we’ve already been told that they were both genetically engineered, their identical appearances don’ seem that strange. But then the finale tells us that Neiru’s one dream is “to be human,” and suddenly the characters assume Neiru was an A.I. just like Frill. That... seems like a leap to me. I mean, she was genetically engineered to lead her company and never had a family of her own; no wonder she feels inhuman! So I’m not sure if I should take this at face value.

Neiru real or fake challenge

Another thing that I don’t think we can take at face value is Mr. Sawaki’s explanation of Koito’s death. In episode 12, we meet a parallel version of Ai who actually killed herself. The big boss monster for Ai to fight while protecting Alt-Ai? It’s a dark, abusive version of Sawaki. And our Ai inexplicably assumes this monster was made from her own fears. A very bizarre conclusion to jump to when you remember that every single boss monster has been the abuser of the victim that the girls were defending in that episode. By all available evidence, the Sawaki monster should be a parallel-world Sawaki who is very much exactly the scumbag he appears to be! Notice how Alt-Ai never says a damn word about the Sawaki Monster - never asks who he is or why he’s like this, etc? She’s not even surprised. That just lends further credence to my belief. FOLLOW THE EVIDENCE.

So in the finale, when our version of Mr. Sawaki claims (via a VERY awkwardly inserted voiceover) that Koito’s death was an accident after she tried to ruin his reputation because she fell in love with him, why should I believe any of it?! The previous episode introduced me to Abusive Sawaki! Sure, we don’t have any reason to assume our Sawaki is That Dick, but we JUST learned that he’s certainly capable. Furthermore, how could Koito suddenly be the ONLY accidental death among all of the available suicide victims in the dreamworld? She shouldn’t have even appeared there if it was just an accident! Although I’d like to believe that Sawaki was someone who Ai and the girls were jumping to conclusions about based on nothing... but it sure doesn’t look that way from here. And given how the show ends things, I fear we may have a hard time learning anything else about Sawaki. Ai changes schools and runs away, there is zero comment on what happened to Sawaki’s relationship with her mom... he’s just gone now.

As the final episode winds down, we see Rika and Ai fall back into bad habits, as they all treat Neiru just like they treated the girls they tried so hard to save. Rika acts disgusted by a friend and abandons her, treating Neiru the same way she treated Cheimi. When Neiru finally reaches out to Ai and calls her, Ai ignores the call and throws her phone away, thereby ignoring her friend’s needs in the same way she ignored Koito’s when she failed to record the bullying Koito was experiencing. You might even be able to connect Momoe’s choice to walk away for the sake of self-preservation to her decision to reject Haruka and walk away, honestly. And to compound the bad news that the show gives us near the end, we skip forward months to learn that Ai, Rika and Momoe have all drifted apart. Ai is in a new school, but we don’t see her with any new friends. She’s back where she started the show.

The difference, however, is that she doesn’t seem hopeless and lonely. She seems wistful, sure, but she never seems beaten down. She still treasures the friendships she built even if they wind up fading away. So there’s still a message in here about moving on, because even if you lose a person or a connection, it will forever matter.

*insert engine rev-up noises*

In the final moments, we see Ai preparing to run in the exact same pose she used back in episode 1 when she first stood up to the abusers within the dreamworld. This time, she runs to grab her chance to reunite with a dear friend. She takes charge of her own future and her own self-worth, somehow gets back into the Egg Garden (even though Rika wasn’t even allowed to enter after she rescued her specified victim, so uh... how did Ai get back in exactly... ?), and insists she’s going to use the eggs to see Neiru... even though the eggs only let you see the dead up to this point, so uh, that doesn’t really make any sense either. Consistency, motherfucker — DO YOU USE IT?

Amidst all the uncertainty that the finale left us with, at least we can see Ai find herself in a more confident place. She spends much of the series learning to stop running from her problems in the real world. Even after she gains confidence in the battles of her dreams, she struggles to face reality. It’s a huge step when she returns to school. Yet even in the very last episode, she opts to run away to a new school rather than cope with seeing Koito each day. But at last, she decides to take charge of her reality and try to reunite with her new best friend, Neiru. She’s wavered on her path, but ultimately, she’s grown. Although you could simultaneously argue that she’s failing to learn the lesson that rescuing Koito should’ve taught her...

“Ai Ohto is BACK!”

I don’t think any of us expected this finale to be a cliffhanger coming into it.  And unfortunately, we don’t know if there will ever be another season or a movie or anything. Given how people reacted to this finale with such overt hate, I really don’t expect anything more. And I think that would be a goddamn shame. Even with a finale that doesn’t quite stick the landing, I still found it fascinating and engaging. The series is more than worth the trip for the characters, for the themes and topics it explores, and even for the fluid action scenes and music. And this is a series that was made by first-time writers and a first-time director! Yet I’d easily call it one of the best animes from the past couple of years. For total newcomers, that’s a goddamn TRIUMPH.

So I hope we reunite with these girls again. I hope Ai manages to get the band back together, find out exactly what’s going on with Neiru, and face down Frill. Even if they never wind up in some ultimate battle with Thanatos, I don’t know that that’s the point. All of us are in a battle with Thanatos every single day, after all. They just need to show how they’ve all gotten stronger together and truly overcome the “Temptation of Death” by beating back Frill (and her ridiculously powerful dreamworld bug-people) as a unit. 

But maybe that’s too obvious and simplistic of a message for a show like this one. Maybe this complex ending centered on the main protagonist’s self-actualization and the value of fleeing relationships is more in keeping with the melancholy nature of the series. 

... I still really want to see the more obvious happy ending, though. I think they deserve it.

[quizzicalcrow]

Can you do some angst Dad might and Izuku?

This was requested an ungodly long time ago but I’m finally delivering, hope you like anon.

Tw: suicide, allusions to abortion 

Toshinori frowned and checked his phone again though knowing it was pointless. Barely a minute had gone by since the last check and he wasn’t expecting a phone call or message from the boy. Despite now having trained Midoriya for the last three months, he hadn’t gotten around to exchanging phone numbers with his chosen successor - a mistake, he realized now.  It hadn’t seemed necessary before, he gave the boy a detailed training schedule so he always knew when to expect Midoriya while he himself popped in and out when he could. If the boy had a question it had always been something that could wait until the next time they met up. 

Toshinori bit his lip and scanned the beach again, hoping to see the boy’s figure running towards him in the distance. But he was alone on the sand except for the seagulls and piles of trash. Piles, he was pleased to see, that had been steadily decreasing over the last few months. Midoirya was making good progress and even managing to stay slightly ahead of Toshinori’s tight schedule. He knew he had made the right choice after seeing Midoriya’s selfless act of bravery and the boy had only proven him more right every day with his dedication and hard work. Midoriya had thrown himself into the harsh training and had stuck to it, never missing a day or even being late - until today. 

Toshinori checked his phone yet again and sighed, it was now over thirty minutes past Midoriya’s scheduled start time but still no sign of the boy. Maybe he was sick, or had something after school today? There was no way to know. He didn’t even know where Midoriya lived. Tsukauchi could probably look up Midoriya’s address if Toshinori really needed it, but the hero was reluctant to use his friend’s connections like that unless absolutely necessary. He at least knew the middle school Midoriya attended since there were only three in the city of Mustafu and each had a unique uniform. Should he try stopping by there? Was that too forward or interruptive? If his successor really was just held up at school, would he be upset at Toshinori checking in on him? No doubt he’d probably faint at having All Might show up at his school. His lips twitched up into a small smile at the thought. 

This would have been so much easier if I had just given him my number weeks ago. Berating himself, he hauled himself up from where he had been sitting on an old, rusted dishwasher. Despite Midoriya knowing two of his greatest secrets, his injury and One for All, and soon to be inheriting the Quirk itself - Toshinori had tried to keep some measure of distance from the boy. It would be better, he had initially thought, to not get too close. He had managed to lose or push away pretty much everyone else close to him and had decided long ago that it was better this way, safer. After all, Toshinori himself only had at best two years left before Nighteye’s predicted future, it would be best for all involved if he didn’t leave behind anyone to mourn him. He thought of his own grief after Nana’s death, still a dull pain now even 30 years later, and didn’t wish that for his own successor. 

And yet… Toshinori had planned to just get Midoriya started with his training regime, drop by enough to make sure the kid stuck with it and didn’t crush himself under a garbage pile, and then just check in when needed. And still he found himself making excuses to stop by on days he didn’t plan to, to stay longer when he should be at his agency. On days he couldn’t make it to the beach, Toshinori found himself missing the excited ramblings and mutterings. When he was stuck in meetings at his agency or out helping others, he found his thoughts turning to his young successor - wondering how his day was going.  Despite himself, he knew he was growing attached to the boy. Some warm, unnamed feeling bubbled in Toshinori every time he saw Midoriya’s bright smile on seeing him - even in his shriveled,skeletal form. That same feeling grew cold and hard at the thought something could have happened to him. 

I’ll take a walk. He decided. I still have a little bit of my time limit left so I can count it as a patrol, and maybe I’ll run into Young Midoriya along the way. He took off in the direction of the boy’s school, following the route he had seen Midoriya follow on his way to the beach. He’d at least take a walk around, make sure everything was okay before circling back to the beach one last time and calling it a day. 

The streets and sidewalks were busy in the early evening as people left work and ran errands. Toshinori walked along, hunching over and staying off to the side to avoid attention. At one point he saw a small group of students walk by, the boys in uniforms identical to Midoriya’s but there was no sign of the boy’s unkempt green green hair among them. He resisted the urge to go up and ask them, no doubt they’d just be alarmed at a skeletal old man like himself bothering them. 

Still, he couldn’t help watching the students past, laughing together about something. Midoriya never mentioned any friends, never had any issues sticking to the harsh schedule Toshinori had devised for him that left him with no free time for socializing or fun. Despite his clever mind and ambitions, the boy didn’t seem to be in any after school clubs or activities either. While Toshinori had grown up Quirkless as well, it hadn’t been as rare back then - and not as stigmatized as it was now. Did the boy have anyone close to him besides his mother? Was there anyone else Toshinori could try asking where the boy could be? 

There was a crowd ahead at the end of a bridge, clumps of people stood either talking quietly to each other or craning their necks to get a look at whatever had drawn them all together. Toshinori tensed and prepared to go into his muscular form as he approached in case All Might was needed. He paused at the edge of the crowd and tried to see what had caught everyone’s attention to no avail. Even with his height he couldn’t make out what was going on ahead. 

“Did something happen?” He asked two young women nearby at the edge of the crowd. 

One, a lady with teal hair and matching eyes turned and looked at him disdainfully, no doubt wondering who this ugly skeleton was. “There was a suicide jumper, police have the bridge blocked off as they fish the body out from the river.”

Toshinori’s heart twinged at that, feeling sorry for the person who felt they had no other choice left in their lives except to end it. 

“They’ve had this bridge blocked for the last 15 minutes and the next closest one to cross the river is, like, a mile away!” Her friend whined, shaking her head topped with a small set of antlers. “Quirkless idiot had to do it during rush hour of course.”

Ice ran through Toshinori’s veins. “Q-Quirkless?” He choked out, trying to keep his voice even. 

A man nearby spoke up. “Yeah, I heard it was some Quirkless kid.”

“Poor kid, probably realized he didn’t have much of a future ahead of him and offed himself.” Someone else muttered. “Probably a relief for the family. My cousin has a Quirkless kid,” He shook his head regretfully. “Wish that was something they could test for before birth, would make things a lot easier.”

Toshinori looked sharply at the man who spoke and was surprised to see others nodding in agreement. Around him, other onlookers were saying similar things, more upset about the minor delay in their lives than the life that had just been extinguished. Had Quirkless discrimination really gotten so bad? He staggered away, sickened by the blaise way those people spoke of a child feeling so lost that the only way out they could find was to end it all. 

Quirkless. Child. Toshinori’s heart clenched. No, it couldn’t be. 

How many Quirkless students could there be in Mustafu? The few times young Midoriya spoke of school, it seemed he was the only Quirkless one among his classmates. While the Quirkless rate was 20%, he knew it was significantly less than that in Midoriya’s generation. But no, it couldn’t be possible. It had to be someone else. Please let it be someone else. It was wrong to plead for such a thing but for the first time in his life Toshinori felt selfish, desperately wishing for once for tragedy to befall someone else. 

A memory came to him, from that rooftop exchange where Toshinori had initially dismissed Midoriya’s dreams of being a hero. The boy had looked so lost and broken but the hero had been too wrapped up in his own problems to care at the time. Had he missed something since? Was there a sign he overlooked? He thought of those broken sobs of relief from the boy when he had told Midoriya he could be a hero. They were like a boy finding something to live for.

He wouldn’t, would he? Toshinori collapsed on a nearby bench, doubled over and clutched his hair tightly in his hands. The boy was timid and uncertain at times, but also so full of hope and determination. He could still picture that bright smile on Midoriya’s face just yesterday as they said their goodbyes after training. But you should know better than anyone that a smile can hide so much. He shuddered. 

Midoriya had come so far, and had worked so hard. Did Toshinori miss something, had he been too hard on the boy? Maybe his trainee had decided the task was too impossible and he wouldn’t be able to complete the cleanup in time for the entrance exams. Midoriya practically worshipped All Might, perhaps he was too afraid of letting his hero down.  What remained of his digestive system twisted. It’s my fault, I dangled hope at what seemed just out of reach for the poor boy. His hands dug in deeper in his scalp to the point of pain as the first tears began to fall. It’s all my fault. It was getting hard to breath and yet Toshinori hefted himself up to his feet. The ground seemed tilted beneath his unsteady legs. I have to find out, have to know for certain. 

“All Mi- um, sir?” The voice was hesitant and oh so familiar. Toshinori’s head turned sharply and there was Midoriya a little ways down the sidewalk, looking confused and worried but alive. 

In a flash Toshinori covered the distance and had Midoriya wrapped in a tight hug. The boy went rigid for a second, no doubt surprised. But Toshinori held on, clutching the boy’s shirt with one hand and burying the other in that soft green hair. He needed this. needed to reassure himself that this was real and his boy was actually here. After a moment Midoriya leaned into the embrace. 

“Um, sir? Are you okay?” He asked and Toshinori’s heart squeezed at the sound of concern in his voice. Reluctantly he broke away from the hug so he could look his successor in the eyes. 

“I-I got worried, when you didn’t show up at the beach.” He murmured, still keeping one hand on the boy’s shoulder. 

Midoriya bowed slightly. “I’m so sorry! I got held back by a teacher about a group project thing, and I normally take this bridge across but well you can see it’s closed down so I had to go a ways out for the next one.” The boy looked over to the crowd of people. “Did something happen? I hope I didn’t interrupt you if you were about to do some hero work All-”

“It’s fine.” Toshinori said quickly, both to stop the boy from saying his hero name out loud in public and prevent any more questions. This wasn’t something Midoriya needed to know about. “There’s nothing more I can do here.” He couldn’t keep the regret from his voice. His successor looked at him quizzically but thankfully didn’t ask anything further. 

Toshinori stood up fully, though stayed close by Midoriya’s side. He looked back the way he had come, towards the beach. “How about we stop by a food stand and get something to eat before we start your training for the day?”

“But what about my schedule?! I’m already behind for the day!”

Toshinori gave a small smile. “We still have time my boy, there’s still time.” Time for me to correct a few things.

“Midoriya, I just want to let you know that you can clean up the beach in time. And if something happens and for whatever reason you don’t, I promise you will still receive One for All. I’ll do everything I can to make sure you get into UA, or another hero school if that doesn’t work out. You have a bright future ahead of you boy, and I will do everything I can to make sure you accomplish your dreams.”

Predictably, the boy’s bright green eyes soon filled with tears and Toshinori just silently passed over a clean handkerchief. 

“Th-thank you All Might. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

“It’s no problem my boy, I should have been telling you this all much sooner. And something else,” He reached into his baggy pants to pull out his phone. “I never did give you my phone number, did I?”

--

Okay so this ended up not being as angsty as probably requested but I am incapable of not writing a fluffy ending. 

[daikonwatte]

Before you read this: I'm not very good at English so please don't judge me. My mother tongue is not English.

I couldn't think of a picture ... so a story...

Hannene tanabata week 21

Day 5 forbidden love and devotion

Content: A short story in which Yashiro gives everything for her love and friends. A love that should never have existed.

Manga spoiler and your own ideas available!

A soft sigh escapes the girl while she looks at a glittering pitch black ball.  All that sorry would come to an end for her friends.  Hanako, Tsukasa ... a wonderful time would begin especially for the two brothers.  Yashiro is ready to give everything she has.  Her greatest wish, because she decided after she met the fragile little Amane in nowhere.  Protecting Hanako.  Just like he protects you.  Would this do justice to her secret love?  Can she give it back to him?  Everything seems to have been yesterday.

Lured back then to finally get love to face a rumor and then experience all these difficult but also wonderful times.  She would never have hoped for all of this.  Aoi had pretty much always been her only friend.  But through her hope back then, she met such dear friends and people.  Bad ones too, but mostly outweighed the good ones.

The girl sobbed up quietly.  If they knew this, would their friends stop them?  If so, she wouldn't let it go.  She has decided to do this.  No matter what, she will.  Even if it breaks her heart.

But she wanted to go through it all one last time.  She would love to do it all over again.  Another ending where everyone is happy.

Hanako, who always annoyed her, Kou who always said something.  But especially the monente with Hanako have done it to her.

She likes to remember that she was afraid the first time she met.  How she thought he was a tensioner who liked to spend his time on a toilet.

When did she start falling in love with him again?  Everything can be found with the stupid confession tree.  When he took off his hat.  She would have gladly seen him again without them, hugged him and said, I understand you now.  He pretty much only took off his hat to her.  Every time the girl's heart jumped when she thought of it.

When Tsukasa first appeared and Hanako looked so broken.  She regretted being shocked by this.  She should have said back then that it was okay.  That he's not a murderer.  That she would love to hug him.  Back then it was one of the few real tears she saw from him.

Hardly anyone knows this Hanako, she was glad to have met him.  One of the few people who know him inside.  Who didn't take his fake smile forever.

She didn't know why she was always led to Hanako's past, every time, every oh-so-little dream was about him.  To be in the past.  Why was it like that?  After a while she thought of the scales, was it they who sparked this red thread?  A thread that should never be stretched.

The little Amane she met back then, where said she was your type.  Would that prove to be the case today?  She does not know.  But she knows so much about Hanako by now.  But she never dared to let this be heard.

When they were in the picture of Number 4 .. it was so surreal for her, even if this world had done her to her.  A world in which Hanako was happy.  His smile, his interest in her, was that all a play back then?  She never asked that question even though she thought about it for hours.  What would she do if she said yes?  Would that break her?  But inside she knows that this was what the Amane always wanted to be when he was alive.  What Hanako always wanted to be.

Her desire to move on to live in the real world was imprinting something wrong.  Living the metaphor for many years should not be part of the desire.  She just wanted to spend her time in the real world back then.  What does a long beautiful dream bring you?  Nothing but eternal ignorance.

But even today she has the feeling that she doesn't know anything and yet she knows so much.  Does Hanako regret it?  Do you regret telling everything?  No.  He looked so relieved after his collapse.  He no longer had to fight alone with his thoughts, he then had Yashiro by his side.  And soon he wouldn't have to fight anything anymore.  The red house was a thing of its own, but ... it was over soon.

She was afraid of what came after the black ball.  It would be like this forever.  But there is no turning back.  Yashiro and Amane are similar.  Both determined to change their future.  Just that this girl had bigger plans.  16, she was just 16 years old.  But even this no longer played a role.  She will never play one again.

With one last sip in which she lets her tears disappear into her sleeve, she takes the ball in her hand.  The memories and the key with the rocket around her neck will always be her greatest treasure.

Hanako and her, a love that should never have existed.  Accidental soul mate.  Ridiculous.  They both loved each other.  Back then, in the Hanako house, she had confessed her feelings and Hanako only said that life and death have no future.  But still, in spite of this, the spirit desperately reported its love to her.  Both enjoyed the time together as a couple in the Red House.  Whatever her lover did, one thing she is sure of is that he is worried, very worried.  She feels that, they will be connected forever, even if they never meet.  She will always love him.

But she will give everything for him.  For her friends.

Trembling but still determined, she places the ball on her tongue.  If she swallows that ball, the world will turn and time will start over.  She would run to the birth of Amane and Tsukasa again.  Amane will never be about to die.  The house will never get them.  None of the twins, they will grasp their dreams and roam through life.  Just like Mitsuba and Kou, they too will master their lives.  And Yashiro will watch over all of her friends forever.

She swallows the bullet and lets her tears flow.  A black door appears in front of the girl.  That is her price what she pays.  Your life and to be trapped in the eternal loneliness of the passing of time.

She carefully opens the black door.  "I love you Amane, I will always be with you, I will protect you. From the beginning and to the end" with these words she stepped into the room and her existence disappeared.  So how do their friends suffer, right?  None of them would have to live with it anymore.  She was now the only one who still knew about her adventures.  She was forever alone now.

She gave up her life, her dreams for everyone. But as long as they are happy, she have no regrets.

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

I hope it was okay and understandable! ; -;

Finally a little picture:

[dessarious]

The Angel of Death Pt38

Inspired by this Story Starter by @someone-ev

AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous   Next

“I believe I’ve made myself quite clear sir.” Tris responded calmly, but inside she was cursing and calling herself every word she could come up with for ‘idiot’ or worse. Not only had she endangered herself in one moment of rage, she’d endangered the Kwami and the people who thought of her as a friend. She needed to get them all away and prepare them for the League to descend on Paris. There was no way word wouldn’t get back to Talia now and everyone who knew her was in danger. What the hell was wrong with her?

“I suppose you have, but I still think we should talk. You seem to be under the impression that Damian is still in contact with, or even connected to Talia, but I can assure you he’s not. I would also like to know what the connection between you two is.” Tris finally took the time to look at Damian’s threads. There was a dark purple thread connecting him to Mr. Wayne and various others, some lighter, going off in one direction. The anger she felt at that surprised her but considering he was the reason she only had one familial connection it annoyed her that he got to have those relationships. Maybe it was petty, but she couldn’t help it at the moment. What really caught her attention was the inky black thread that was running in the same direction as her own. She had to wonder what had caused Talia to turn on her precious son.

“We’re soulmates.” Tris glared at Damian’s bored tone in response to his father. He’d always put on an apathetic front about their string that annoyed her to no end.  

“We were soulmates. That bond was severed and luckily for me it shows no signs of reforming.” She saw something flash in his eyes but it was too fast to get a good read on it. His father looked like he’d just been slapped. For her part she was doing her best not to look at the string between them. It was a rather nauseating greenish orange which was bad enough, but it was also pulsing in a way that left her with a sense of dread.

“Damian has changed a lot in the last few years, perhaps if you two got to know each other again your bond would have a chance to come back.” She couldn’t help the wan look she shot at the man. In any other case perhaps a red string was something to be cherished and protected. In this instance it absolutely wasn’t.

“Sir, being connected to your son destroyed my life in a way I’ll never be able to recover from. I’m not insane or stupid enough to invite that influence back in to see how much worse things can get.” The man looked like he wanted to argue further but Damian put a hand on his arm.

“She’s right. Our bond began weakening the moment we met. My death simply allowed the universe to correct a mistake.” His tone was… strange. The Damian she remembered would have been smug because he was no longer connected to a worthless burden like her, but now… from anyone else she’d call it wistful. It didn’t make any sense. She finally looked at the people around them and noted the mass confusion. They’d held the entire conversation in Arabic and she was glad for it. She was going to get interrogated regardless, but she’d rather not give them too much information. Mr. Wayne was looking between her and Damian obviously trying to decide if he should push the issue. Eventually he just sighed, pulled out a business card, and held it out to her. Tris just blinked at him.

“In case you ever change your mind, or if you need anything.”

“I won’t.” The man pinched the bridge of his nose before glaring at her.

“Just take it to make me feel better.” She looked at Damian to get a better idea of what his intentions were but he just looked amused.

“I assure you that I can find your information on my own should I require it. I don’t understand why giving me a piece of cardstock makes you feel better.” Domain actually coughed to cover a laugh and it stunned her for a moment. She’d never seen him show things so openly. It was creepy.

“None of these numbers are publicly available and I would feel better knowing you have them should you need help. Especially with Talia currently in the wind.” So he was trying to monitor her movements. That was something to look into later.

“She’s in Norway for the next few days, then likely will be heading to the Congo.” Once Tris realized the woman was looking for the Angel of Death she’d started taking jobs in the most random pattern she could manage. It was rather amusing watching the woman chase her trail. Both Damian and his father were looking at her like she’d grown a second head. “That woman already ruined my life once, I’m not about to let her sneak up on me to do that or worse again. I assure you I’m prepared for most scenarios, and if it’s something I’m not prepared for chances are high I wouldn’t be able to contact you anyway. They’re pretty much zero that you’d get to me in time to help even if you could.”

“You may as well just take it. If you don’t he’ll start monitoring your movements as well and I’m sure you don’t want that.” She let out an involuntary scoff at Damian’s assumption they’d be able to monitor her. Even without the Kwami to help, they’d only see what she allowed.

“You can try, but unlike you I haven’t been living the high life the past three years. I’ve been on my own evading your mother and everyone else in the League who thought it was a good idea to use me to get at you. I don’t care how good you think you are, you don’t stand a chance of following me if I don’t let you.” She couldn’t help the bitterness in her tone. The look of shock on Damian’s face that said he hadn’t even considered what her life had been like didn’t help her mood at all.

AO3   Prologue   Beginning   Previous     Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@kceedraws @theatreandcomicfreak @krispydefendorpolice @magic-miraculous @chocolatecatstheron @mooshoon @northernbluetongue @interobanginyourmom @rebecarojas07 @dast218 @abrx2002 @damianette-is-life @yin-390 @fontegagrilledcheese @bigpicklebananatree @tbehartoo @nobodyw8s4evr @linim2503 @ladybug-182 @marinettepotterandplagg @daminett4life @thethirdwheelfriend @corabeth11 @emotionalsupportginger @shizukiryuu @toodaloo-kangaroo @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @sassakitty @my-name-is-michell @multplelifes @sassydepression @danielslilangel @winter-gardenflower @animegirlweeb @romanoff-queen @nanakeid @paradoxal-occurance @theg0ddesspersephone @hinata3487 @irontimetravelflower @the-real-gingakid @heaven428 @peachedpocky @justafanwarrior @gentlemanoftimetravel @18-fandoms-unite-08 @kittycatwowmeow @pale-lady-dreamer @i-is-mysterious @captainartsypants @write-for-your-life2 @queengeorgiaaa @schrodingers25 @thecaptainthunder @elspethshadow @stela-likes-drawing @loysydark @lozzybowe @renscorpio @elmokingkong @the-fusionist @tis-i-beanbandit @smolplantmum @iwantwhirlledpeasandlotsatrees @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @chocolateherringtacofan @how-to-fuction-properly

[pearl-pilots-in-chains]

Ice Cream Expertise (All the Little Lights #1)

Fandom: Neon Genesis Evangelion

Ships: Kawoshin

Rating: G

Summary: Shinji is faced with a dilemma of sorts, and is characteristically indecisive. Fortunately, Kaworu is there to give some helpful advice. Or maybe just call himself an ice cream expert. Let's be honest, it's a bit of both.

Notes: This is intended to be the start to All the Little Lights, my attempt at a relatively happy Evangelion high school AU featuring the pilots we know (and maybe love) actually getting to live a normal life (including all the cute gay romance they deserve). That said, it also works totally fine as a one shot. Considering it's an AU, there's going to be some rather interesting deviations from canon, some of which are alluded to here. So, if something seems off, that's probably because it is.

As usual, any errors, grammatical or typographical, are mine. I apologize in advance.

This was originally posted to my old AO3 on May 21, 2020. I hope you enjoy it!

_________________________________________________________

Shinji Ikari was not having a good day. No, perhaps that was an understatement. He was having a distinctly bad day. School had been tedious to say the least, considering that testing week was approaching, and the teachers seemed to be doing their best to “prepare” the students using every form of academic torture known to humankind. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration, but it had been a hectic hell all the same. Not to mention the fact that his best friend Touji was going through a rough patch (not the first one, mind you), with his girlfriend Hikari, which led to a tense mood within their friend group outside of class as well. Adding onto this was the fact that he was getting worried about his sister (what wasn’t new?) Rei, who had been especially quiet the past week or so, even by her standards. That was usually a sign that her depression was going through a rough spot. He had wanted to mention something to his mother about it, considering she usually had better luck at getting through to Rei than he did when his sister was going through a difficult time, but unsurprisingly, he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. He was gone too often, and his mother was gone too often. There was all of a one to two hour period when they were both home and awake on any given night. Rei always ending up alone probably doesn’t help her state of mind improve either. I wish she had more friends. People she could connect with.

And, of course, to top all that wonderful baggage off, he had had work after school, which had gone lovely. Just lovely. A simply wonderful group of customers had come in, and stayed for a better part of three hours, ordering intermittently while they all talked (way too loudly, in his opinion) at their shared table, which, in a predictable move, they hadn’t even bothered to clean off. He was a barista, not a waiter, despite what some people seemed to think. To make matters worse, they had been laughing so hard partway through their ��discussion,” that one of the party had practically flung her iced latte through the air by accident (how someone could do that by accident, was a whole other topic for conversation), sending its contents flying halfway across the room (in a bafflingly impressive display, he had to admit, as irritating as it was). Of course, he had drawn the short straw and been the one tasked with cleaning it up. His boss seemed to get a special satisfaction out of giving Shinji all the “fun,” jobs. Okay, maybe Mr. Anno’s not that bad, but he still gets a kick out of watching me suffer. Or something like that.

Shinji sighed as he pulled his car into the store parking spot. As he exited it, he glanced down at his phone. 7:16. That meant he should have enough time to get home and get dinner going before his mother got home. These days, it seemed as though she worked progressively later and later. It had been a couple months since she’d been home before 8. She was almost certainly still out at the base at that moment. Whatever project she’s working on now is one of the more intensive ones.

He headed for the doors. He was planning on making stir fry, which meant that he needed to get soy sauce for sure, since he knew they had run out from the last time. He thought they had most of the rest of what he needed at home. So, this should be a quick run. Just in and out. After a day like today though, he was tempted to grab something sweet. Come on, after this whole mess, I think I at least half deserve something to take my mind off of it. Just a little.

Inside, he made a bee line for the condiments aisle. Alright, first things first. Get what I need. Then, maybe, I’ll just check out what they have. He grabbed soy sauce, and then wavered for a moment, trying to decide just for what he was in the mood. Okay, just something little. Nothing too big. I am going to be cooking, after all. Hmmm . . . I mean, it’s probably not the best idea, but . . .

Making his decision, he set off for the frozen section. Once again, he paused when he arrived at the aisle, looking through the glass freezer doors at the available options. I’ll just get a pint. That should be more than enough. Even if Rei goes for some too. ‘Cause mom hardly ever eats anything sweet, so I doubt she’ll have any. He tilted his head, tapping the soy sauce bottle against his thigh as he considered the selection. Why are there so many flavors? I didn’t even realize they sold Pumpkin outside of November. And Lime-Raspberry? What would that even taste like? Who comes up with these things? I’ll go for something classic. I could always do Vanilla. But, that’s a little boring. I don’t even really like it that much. Chocolate’s always classic, except that Rei doesn’t like it. And her favorite is Cookie Dough, which I don’t like the texture of . . . there are way too many choices here. Running his eyes over the racks, he did a quick count. Forty-two different flavors. Why are there forty-two different flavors? I wonder if anyone’s ever tried them all. Then again, that might take a while. And be kind of pricey. Dammit, I’m getting distracted again. The only conclusion that Shinji was coming to was the fact that he liked ice cream far too much, and was wasting far more time than he should be trying to pick out something. Maybe I should just get the soy sauce and head home. He peaked down at his phone. 7:29. Yeah, I’ve already been here longer than I should be.

A voice interrupted Shinji’s thoughts. “So, what’s your drug of choice?”

Shinji head snapped to the side, his concentration broken. “What?,” He asked, a little surprised.

The source of the interruption was standing a little further down the aisle, casually leaning on one of the freezer windows, his head cocked to the side, watching Shinji with a friendly smile on his face. Shinji thought the interrupter looked to be about the same age as him, though that fact was complicated slightly by the fact that though his face was youthful, his hair was an ashen grey. He must dye it. Is grey hair a style though? The interrupting individual sported a pair of black jeans and a band shirt for a group whose name looked vaguely familiar to Shinji. Porcupine Tree . . . I feel like Rei might listen to them. Maybe. Not to mention the fact that the newcomer had red eyes. Red eyes. Okay, so maybe this is a look he’s going for. I mean, those are definitely contacts, right? Unless there’s a genetic mutation I’ve never heard of, I don’t think humans can be born with red eyes. Which means that they’re contacts. Which means that the hair is almost definitely dyed too. I’m pretty sure that’s not what ‘scene’ looks like . . . there’d be brighter colors . . . and I don’t think it’s emo either . . . I’m pretty sure his hair would be black then . . . huh . . . maybe that’s goth. Yeah. Let’s go with that. In addition to making him second guess what scene fashion looked like, Shinji’s visual analysis of the interrupter also led him to a more definite conclusion. That regardless of what category his fashion fell under, he was pretty cute. Seriously Shinji, focus here, and stop thinking about how some random boy in Safeway who asked you what type of drugs you like is cute. Don’t be an idiot. Sure, you haven’t been on a date in months, ever since Martin broke up with you, but he was a manipulative jerk anyway— Shinji realized the interrupter had started talking again, which snapped him back into reality and out of his wandering mind.

“Yeah. What flavor is your favorite. I mean, out of the forty-two, there has to be one you’d pick, right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Probably cookies ’n’ cream,” Shinji answered, feeling more than a bit confused. On an afterthought, he added, “You’ve counted all the flavors too?”

“Not a bad choice,” the boy said with a firm nod. “Although, I’m more into mint chocolate chip myself. And yes, I’ve counted them all. It’s an important part to being an ice cream expert. Keeping track of the available flavors at the nearest store.”

“Okaayyy.” Shinji’s tone betrayed his uncertainty concerning just how he should deal with this stranger. “Ice cream expert?”

“Yep, that would be me,” the boy replied matter-of-factly, as though the question was a pointless one. He strolled over to Shinji and extended his hand. “Kaworu Akagi, ice cream expert, at your service.”

Shinji shook the offered hand, deciding he should be polite, despite the fact that his perplexity had not been substantially diminished in any way. This guy is . . . interesting, to say the least. As their hands met, Shinji was struck by the strange, but intense, sense that this wasn’t his first time meeting Kaworu.

“Shinji Ikari.” Against his better judgement, he decided to follow his introduction with, “Have we met before?”

Retracting his hand, Kaworu pursed his lips, ostensibly mulling over the question in his mind. After a few moments, he shook his head. “I don’t think so. At least, not that I can recall. I just got into town a few days ago. Why do you ask?”

Shinji shrugged, trying to play off his earlier question. “Oh, I think you just reminded me of someone I used to know.”

Kaworu nodded, seeming to accept this answer. “Ah, that makes sense. So, have you come to a conclusion, or would you like a second opinion?”

Shinji raised an eyebrow. “About the ice cream, you mean?”

“Indeed. That is the topic on the floor, as they say,” Kaworu responded nonchalantly.

Shinji blinked. “Who says?”

“Why, they do of course.”

“Oh. Umm, alright.” Shinji looked back through the window, surveying his options once more. A obvious choice didn’t present itself. “Well . . . I suppose a second opinion probably wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great,” Kaworu stated, his tone even and pleasant. “Any occasion in particular you’re buying for?”

Shinji shook his head. “Nope, not really. Just . . .” he hesitated, uncertain how much he wanted to tell someone who was still basically a stranger to him. “Just a bad day,” was what he ended up deciding on.

Kaworu pretended to stroke nonexistent hairs on his chin, nodding slowly as did so, in an amusing imitation of the stereotypical philosopher. “Hmm . . . ice cream for a bad day, you say?”

“Uh. Yeah. I guess so.”

“I’d have to recommend Cherry Chip for that. It’s a guaranteed mood improver from my experience. It is nearly impossible to feel down while you’re eating Cherry Chip ice cream.”

“Really?” Shinji’s ice wandered down the display, finally locating the flavor in question. Fortunately, they had it in pint size, which meant that the option was on the table. He couldn’t think of any reason not to go for it. As far as he knew, Rei liked Cherry Chip. At least, he thought she did. He wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever seen her eat it. For that matter, he wasn’t entirely sure that he’d ever eaten it himself. Which means it might be pretty good, and I just don’t know it yet. You never know. “Really. Trust me, I’ve tested its potency. It won’t let you down.”

“Alright. Why not?” Shinji opened the door and grabbed a pint of Cherry Chip. He examined the container in his hands for a few seconds, before looking back up at Kaworu, who now seemed to be smiling in encouragement, which had the effect of making him look even cuter than before. Come on Shinji, don’t get distracted! Sure, he might be attractive, but he’s also a self-proclaimed ice cream expert. . . not sure whether that’s a good or a bad thing yet, to be honest.

“That’ll do the job,” Kaworu remarked, in a straightforward tone that made it sound as though he was utterly confident in the truth of his words.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shinji furrowed his brow as another question popped into his mind. “Hey .. . you said you just got into town a few days ago. How is it that you already know all the different flavors they have here?”

“It was one of the first things I scoped out after we got into town. Always important to know what kind of ice cream game you’re going to be dealing with. Plus, I had plenty of free time once we finished unpacking, considering I won’t be in school up here until the fall.”

“Ah, okay. That makes sense.” Almost on a whim, Shinji was tempted to ask Kaworu where he had moved from, but decided that could come across as prying a little too much, since Kaworu hadn’t offered that information. As it was, Kaworu gave a partial answer to the question without Shinji even verbalizing it.

“School down south ends earlier. Though, to be fair, it also starts earlier there as well. We left a couple days after my semester ended. Which means I currently have relatively few obligations, other than locating and obtaining a job for the summer.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Shinji still wasn’t exactly sure how to respond, but he decided to field a question of his own. He figured it could come across as a polite inquiry, rather than being nosy, taking into account what Kaworu had just revealed. “So, what brought you up north?”

“My mother got transferred out to the base,” Kaworu returned offhandedly.

Shinji tilted his head in response to this answer, the gears in his brain turning. Well, that’s interesting. He almost wanted to make some sort of follow-up remark expressing their similarity in that regard, but he decided that might be a bit too much to say for the moment. Instead, he merely offered a casually, “I gotcha.” He continued with an amiable, “Well, welcome to Asherdale,” along with a more ironic, “It’s halfway decent, once you get used to it.”

Kaworu’s face broken into a grin at the humor, an expression that Shinji couldn’t help but feel made him look all the more attractive. Oops, getting distracted again. . . don’t do that . . . too much.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” Kaworu said warmly.

“No problem.” The thought suddenly entering his mind, Shinji shot a momentary glance down at his phone. Hmm, what time is it? The answer was 7:37. 7:37?! I’ve been talking for eight minutes?! That felt like four or five at the most. I have to bail, now, if I’m going to make it home in time to get cooking.

He looked back up at Kaworu, who was still watching him, his gaze soft, the smile still on his face, his head tilted to the side. Shinji had the strange feeling that if it had been anyone else, the observational pose the boy had struck would have looked unusual, to say the least, but somehow, on Kaworu, it didn’t look half bad. It gives him a kind of elegant aesthetic . . . okay, where did I come up with that? I definitely need to head out.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry to leave so quick, but I need to get going.” Shinji cringed a little internally, hearing the awkward tone in his voice. You could have said that in a way that didn’t basically announced the fact that it made you flustered. Great going.

“Understandable. You wouldn’t want that ice cream to melt before you get the chance to test out its powers.”

“Haha, yeah, you know it.”

Kaworu nodded, imply that yes, he did indeed know it. “Why don’t I give you my number?” He remarked. “That way, you’ll have someone on hand for any future ice cream dilemmas.”

“Ahhh . . .” Okay, that was actually kind of smooth, in an odd way. And . . . it’s not like it could really hurt anything. I mean, he didn’t even ask for my number. Which means he’s not even necessarily flirting with me. It’d probably be a bit of stretch to say he is. After all, if I have his number, and he doesn’t have mine, that means I can choose whether I want to text him or not, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Which isn’t really a good way to flirt with somebody. I think I’m stalling again here . . .”

Shinji noticed Kaworu was watching him again, waiting for a response. “Sure. Sounds like a good plan.” He pulled out his phone and hastily created a new contact, before offering it to Kaworu. “Here, you can put it in.”

Kaworu nodded, his smile remaining intact, and typed in the digits, before handing it back to Shinji. “It was nice to meet you, Shinji Ikari,” he commented affably.

“You can just call me Shinji,” Shinji quickly responded.

“Alright then. It was nice to meet you Shinji.”

“You too . . .” Should I use first and last name like he did the first time? Or just go with first name. I don’t want to offend him, if that’s the sort of thing that’s important to him. After all, he does seem a bit, umm, particular.

“You can just call me Kaworu,” the boy suggested, his smile widening.

“It was nice to meet you Kaworu,” he finished lamely. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yes, maybe so.”

Shinji nodded again, spun on his heels, and promptly made for the registers. Well, that went excellently. You meet a boy who’s kind of cute, even if he is a little eccentric, and straight off the bat, you’re second guessing yourself and fumbling for words. Fantastic.

Shinji shot a brief glance back as he reached the end of the aisle, to see that Kaworu was now retrieving an ice cream carton of his own from the merchandise freezer. Shinji turned away again before the boy could look back in his direction. Don’t want him to think I’m staring at him or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shinji collapsed back onto his bed with a satisfied sigh. He was glad to have finally reach it, after the nigh-interminable day. Well, maybe not quite interminable. But definitely overlong. Without much thought, he grabbed his phone from his nightstand and spun in about in his hands a couple times, feeling the sensation of the textured case against his skin.

Dinner had been a success, such as it could be, anyway. He had impressed himself with just how fast he managed to throw things together when he went into slight (well, maybe more than slight) panic mode.

The ice cream had been a success as well. He had to admit, Cherry Chip was a pretty good flavor. He still wasn’t sure whether he had tried it before or not, but he was glad he had definitively tried it now. Rei had also enjoyed it, which was an added plus. In fact, their mother had even had a bowl, something altogether unexpected. Apparently, Cherry Chip ice cream was one of the sweets she would indulge in. Didn’t see that coming. All in all, the majority of the pint was no more.

Powering on his phone, Shinji was faced with another choice for the evening. Unlike his earlier ice cream deliberation, however, this cerebration was of a cursory duration. After a few seconds, he had composed the text, and was hovering over the send button. Alright. Let’s do this. He tapped the icon.

Shinji I.: Thanks for the recommendation. It was a good choice! Lol. This is Shinji, btw.

The response to his message came swiftly. Wow, he must type fast.

Kaworu A.: Happy to be of service. I’m glad it worked out.

Shinji found a smile edging its way across his lips. Maybe, in spite of everything, today wasn’t such a bad day after all.