#graphic era university

[geuedublog]

Why Choose Graphic Era University for Your Higher Education in Dehradun?

Graphic Era University (GEU) is the best university in Dehradun, renowned for its academic excellence, state-of-the-art infrastructure, and strong commitment to student success. With a rich legacy of producing highly skilled and industry-ready professionals, GEU has carved a niche for itself as one of the best universities in Dehradun.

A Legacy of Excellence

GEU was established with a vision to provide quality education to students from all walks of life. Over the years, the university has consistently strived to create a nurturing environment that fosters intellectual growth and personal development. With a strong emphasis on research, innovation, and industry collaboration, GEU has emerged as a leading institution in the region.

Diverse Programs and Specializations

GEU offers a comprehensive range of undergraduate, postgraduate, and doctoral programs across various disciplines, ensuring there's something for everyone. Whether you're passionate about engineering, management, law, computer science, the arts, or something entirely different, GEU provides programs tailored to your aspirations. 

World-Class Faculty

GEU boasts a distinguished faculty comprising experienced academicians, industry experts, and researchers. Our faculty members are passionate about teaching and mentoring students, and they are dedicated to helping them achieve their academic and career goals. With their expertise and guidance, students at GEU receive a high-quality education that prepares them for success.

State-of-the-Art Infrastructure

GEU is proud to have a modern and well-equipped campus that provides students with a conducive learning environment. Our facilities include:

Advanced Laboratories: Our laboratories are equipped with the latest technology and equipment to facilitate research and practical learning.

Well-Stocked Libraries: Our libraries house a vast collection of books, journals, and digital resources to support students' academic pursuits.

Sports and Recreation Facilities: GEU offers a variety of sports and recreational facilities, including sports grounds, gyms, and swimming pools.

Hostels: We provide comfortable and secure accommodation for our students on campus.

Holistic Development

GEU believes in fostering holistic development, and we offer a variety of extracurricular activities to complement students' academic pursuits. These activities include:

Clubs and Societies: GEU has a wide range of clubs and societies that cater to students' interests and hobbies.

Cultural Events: We organize various cultural events and festivals to promote diversity and cultural exchange.

Sports and Games: GEU encourages students to participate in various sports and games to stay fit and healthy.

Excellent Placement Opportunities

GEU has a strong track record of placements, with our students securing jobs in top companies across India and abroad. Our dedicated placement cell works closely with leading industries to provide students with ample opportunities for internships and placements.

Why Choose GEU?

Academic Excellence: GEU is committed to providing a high-quality education that prepares students for success.

Experienced Faculty: Our faculty members are experts in their fields and are dedicated to mentoring students.

State-of-the-Art Infrastructure: GEU provides a modern and well-equipped campus.

Holistic Development: We focus on the overall development of our students.

Excellent Placement Opportunities: GEU has a strong track record of placements.

In conclusion, Graphic Era University is the best university in Dehradun for students seeking a quality education and a bright future. With its commitment to academic excellence, holistic development, and industry-oriented education, GEU provides students with the necessary tools to succeed in their chosen fields.

Address: 566/6, Bell Road, Society Area, Clement Town, Dehradun, Uttarakhand PIN: 248002

Contact: 1800 270 1280

[careermantra24]

Why Choose Graphic Era University Courses and Fee structure

Graphic Era University offer a wide range of high quality courses with a transparent fee structure. Explore programs in management, engineering and more that fit for your career goal. Explore now!

[occasionallyprosie]

"Gone Like The Wind"

Lana is desperate, the war has been going on for a while and she needed someone good. Someone who could help Link beat not just Cia, but also Ganondorf and Volga and all of them. Who better than the Hero of Legend who killed Ganon four times? Wait a second--That's not the hero, that's a merchant. Second try, surely this time--nope, that's a girl from an island. Third time is the charm, right? Wind saw that portal forming and he knew it was after his brother. There was no way he was letting it have him. TLDR: Wind gets yoinked into the War of Eras during the Linked Universe adventure. This results in some emotional struggles, some mischief, found family, and a lot of violence.

Read On AO3

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Implied Attempted Non-Con (Cia and Warriors), Swearing

----

Legend was having a very normal day, thank you. Nothing insane or abnormally absurd (aside from Wild deciding to try and test the group's spice tolerance for literally no reason this time, what the heck, Champion) happened, no ambushes or anything.

They were literally just walking when a portal--a different one than normal, blue and bright and not quite divine in nature, but powerful--tried to rip open.

Wind and Legend had been at the back, and both had spotted the portal. Legend went for his sword on instinct, but Wind shoved him just as the portal lunged at them.

Someone cried out. The portal was gone as quickly as it had formed and Wind with it.

Legend breathed an islander curse, one taught to him by their now missing hero and one he got scolded for saying by a red haired, bird-loving girl.

"What was that?!" Wild demanded, his voice higher than usual.

"Sailor?" Twilight called. As if that wasn't a portal filled to the brim with pure temporal magic, purer than Nayru's Harp.

Legend, still on the ground from getting shoved, stared at the place Wind had been not seconds ago.

He never thought he'd get angry at the protectiveness Wind displayed over him--it was understandable, he had been younger than him when they first met and even if he was older now by about three years, Wind was still his big brother in a way--but in that moment he felt it. Because of that, Wind had been taken alone. At the very least they'd both would've been taken or just Legend.

"You alright, Kit?" Time asked while Warriors tried to calm Twilight, who grew hysterical.

"Y-Yeah," he forced out, taking the offered hand to stand. "Just--" he cursed again, "I wasn't expecting that."

"To be pushed out of the way, or the... ambush?" Time asked, if Legend wasn't still staring at the spot Wind had been he would've noticed the worried look he was given.

"Both, honestly... he doesn't usually do that."

"Sailor, can you hear me?" Wild shook his slate, holding it to the sky to try and get a signal. "Sailor? Link?"

"LINK!" Four was yelling, Twilight transforming and running into the woods, Four giving chase and calling out.

Sky and Hyrule disappeared another way, Wild following them after only a moment.

Wind hadn't been expecting to see a portal--one he had never seen before--appear behind him and Legend. But some part of him told him that it was after his little (older) brother.

He shoved Legend just before the portal tried to snatch him, taking him instead.

It was disorienting, dizzying, and far worse than any of the other portals he had gone through. He internally apologized for every time he complained about any method of transportation, this was worse than taking tornadoes across the Great Sea.

He slammed into the ground and couldn't help but groan into his teeth, keeping silent as he tried to reorient his mind and get aware of his surroundings.

The ground was cold and hard--stone--and he could hear the chittering of bokoblins. He dazedly looked up, staying low and realizing where he was roughly.

A storage room, the light coming from the door meant it was an outdoor storage room, or one connected to a courtyard. Beside him was an overturned, empty barrel.

He heard footsteps, heavy and imbalanced, monster, approach and he quickly scrambled and pulled the barrel over himself. He needed to get a complete grip of himself before he fought if he wanted a good outcome. He could fight dizzy, hell, he has fought concussed before, but it wasn't his favorite thing to do.

Soon enough, he heard the door shut again and the footsteps fade, still hearing the chittering and snarls of monsters.

"Okay," he breathed. He internally thanked the goddesses or whatever it was that Legend and Twilight usually revered for not letting whatever it was that took him get a second try and drop any of his brothers on him.

He had all his supplies, he had a fairy and a red potion healing wise, and a week's rations for two people in case he was separated from Wild and needed food. He had his weapons, he could handle it, he'd be fine.

He had forged his hero's spirit, he could handle anything the world threw at him and he knew it. Besides, sneaking around in a barrel was familiar enough.

He managed to sneak out of the storage room--the door turned out to be a push/pull door and not needing a knob, lucky him--and just froze whenever he heard a monster nearby.

Then he heard distant battle. He rolled his eyes and after getting his balance standing, he shoved the barrel off.

He heard rapid footsteps and turned quickly.

A woman--scary woman, tall, easily taller than Time--with a huge blade stood there. One look at her and he knew she was dangerous, her eyes promised that, and she readied her blade toward him. She had the same symbol that Wild had on his slate, on her face.

He quickly drew the Phantom Sword and Hero's Shield.

There were monsters all around, but they didn't immediately attack. Wind figured that meant this woman was in charge of them. Wild had mentioned that there were some people who used to be Sheikah who betrayed Hyrule and became servants of Ganondorf (or was it Ganon?), he would guess this woman was one of them.

She attacked him first, and she was fast but extremely powerful. Wind yelped, falling back on his feet and fending off powerful, violent, reverberating blows that made his spinning head infinitely worse.

She dented his shield.

Wind evaded her and fought back, focusing on his evasive attacks and slashing at her whenever he could.

He could see her flagging, but he had a feeling he couldn't win this one.

No. He couldn't risk that. He had to get back to his brothers, he had to make sure--

He slammed into the wall as her blade hit his shield and threw him back. She came at him just as quickly as Warriors could lunge right after an attack. He barely blocked his skull in time, only to get hit in the head with his own shield.

His shield cracked. He rolled on the ground, pain flaring through his bruised body.

He couldn't move, he tried but that hit to his head was awful. He couldn't get to his feet.

Damnit, get up, Link! Get up!

He could hear the screeches of the monsters, bokos he's pretty sure, and the sounds of battle echoed. He got to a knee but swayed and almost collapsed again.

It's okay. Twilight's voice rang in his head. Jus' breathe, Ocean. Head injuries are bad, ya can't always push pass them.

He needed to this time. He was dead if he didn't. Better or worse, he could be captured. He had to push past it!

Black pressed at the edges of his vision.

A weight settled on his shoulder and he froze a whole moment late, seeing the weapon he had been fending off moments before.

"Stand down." The woman's voice sounded underwater.

He grabbed his sword, shaking and he tried to channel his Triforce. Legend said it would help them if they used it.

He could feel its strength flare through him, giving him the briefest moment of clarity and stability.

He slashed at her, throwing himself forward at the same time as she jumped back. She dodged his first slash, but had to block his second.

Be fast, begin your next move while you are doing your current one. Warriors' advice rang through his head, his Triforce flared once more as he cut the woman's side.

She landed one more hit and sent him flying across the stone courtyard.

He was out before he hit the ground.

Quiet chatter, wary sounds, distant grinding and warm laughter.

His body felt heavy, but not hurt. Something scratchy was over him, he felt it on his arms and his hands.

When he pried his eyes open, the soft light of a candlelit lantern greeted him. It took him a moment to adjust and focus, seeing multiple other beds, most of them occupied, and the woman who he fought talking with someone in a white tunic and chain mail armor beneath it. Beside her was...

"Cap'n," he murmured, not even loud enough to travel to them. None of them heard him, clearly, but he did get a better look.

That wasn't Warriors. That was a seventeen year old soldier, it looked like Warriors sure, but distinctly younger, face completely impassive and blank, lacking the scar along his jaw that Wind was familiar with.

Time travel. Wars' quest involved a lot of time travel and people displaced from their times.

He let out a soft breath. If that was where and when he was, he would be fine. He just had to convince them he wasn't against them, and considering the cuff around his left wrist, they didn't know that.

He sat up, noting his head didn't hurt anymore. They healed him, nice.

"You know," he spoke up, keeping his voice light enough that it wouldn't bother the injured soldiers sleeping around the tent, "it's rude to ignore your guests."

The woman who had beat him up turned and glared at him, mini Warriors gave a confused look, and the medic made a surprised noise. 

"Who said you were a guest?" The woman asked.

"I did," he replied, grinning at them as he propped his chin on his fist. "Considering someone here snatched me from my time, and considering you attacked me without reason, I'd say that gives me at minimum guest status. How's the war going?"

They stared at him.

"If you truly are displaced in time," the woman said lowly, eyes narrowing. "You would not know of the war."

Wind gave her a wry smirk. "But I do. How about this? My name's Link and I'm the Hero of Winds." He looked at Mini Wars. "I know that my story is still told in this era."

They stared at him.

"Captain," the woman looked at Mini Wars, "bring Lana here, and the kid, he said he could sense your shared spirits?"

Mini Wars nodded and Wind only just noticed the fairy beside him.

"Yes, General," the fairy said and Mini Wars left the tent. The woman approached Wind and he met her eyes unflinchingly.

"You are a skilled fighter," she said. "You fight like a Sheikah."

"I fight like my older brother, who was trained by a Sheikah, the royal army, and someone else he met when he was younger."

He studied her, she was strong, he experienced that firsthand. If she was acknowledging his skill after fighting him concussed, he wondered if he could win in a fair fight. Unlikely, but he'd do better.

"You've experienced time travel before," she stated.

He nodded. "Yeah, and I'll tell you that your portals fucking suck. Even a lizard could do better."

"Excuse me?!" A woman with bright blue hair had just entered the tent. "My portals do not suck!"

"Lady Lana--"

"Yea, they do." Wind argued, noticing a syringe on the table beside him. "Your portals are worse than flying across the ocean on a fucking tornado."

She made an affronted noise, the tent door swished aside as Mini Wars reentered with... a kid.

At first glance, he was reminded of Apple. Second glance, the kid couldn't have looked less like his little brother. Brighter hair, same shade and style's as Time's, a familiar green cap but also a yellow mask on the side of his head... a mask that Time had shown them before. He looked young, younger than Wind even, but his eyes...

He was tired, he had experienced a lot and his confident stance, his dangerous, angry eyes, the way he met Wind's eyes...

"He doesn't have it," the kid declared. "He doesn't have our spirit."

"Of course I don't," he spoke up, gaining their attention again. He didn't look away from the kid's eyes. "You have it. I don't need your special little spirit to be a hero, I forged my own. I made myself the hero when nobody else could."

He was honestly surprised nobody noticed, but he held up his unlocked, picked cuff that no longer clasped around his wrist.

"So, why don’t we talk about how I can help you guys in this war of yours, and you can make sure I get back right to the place and time I left when it's over. I was a bit busy."

"So you are not the famed Hero of Legend?" Lana asked him when they finally sat down to have an actually civil conversation. "The hero who slayed Ganon multiple times?"

"No, but we've met and if you try to drag him into this then we will have a problem," Wind warned her, glaring.

"We are seeking additional support and power," Lana argued.

"And you got me, try and touch my brothers and we'll actually start having problems," Wind retorted, standing from his chair.

Lana glared at him. "Fine." She held her hands up. "You are a renowned hero, I suppose you will suffice... even if you are young."

"I killed Ganondorf by driving my sword through his skull," Wind spat. "I can handle a war."

"If you say so," she sighed. "It has already been ongoing for a year."

Wind hummed. "Good thing I'm a fast learner."

The war apparently picked up soon after Wind arrived. Battles taking place near daily, monsters sieging military camps and towns. Wind found himself fighting beside Link and Mask, who he internally dubbed Mini Wars and Mini Time.

Both were skilled, Mask more than Link, but Link was... He needed help. After a particularly brutal battle not a week after Wind arrived--he hadn't had any time to talk to anyone, he had seen Legend's merchant friend, a familiar wolf who gave him a knowing look--he decided to make Link learn how to fight faster.

He was surprised Impa hadn't taught him it by now, but she seemed busy and everything Link did screamed 'soldier' in a way Wild did on bad days.

"You move too slow," he told Link after they left Mask in the medical wing.

Link flinched, it was hard to notice but Wind could read Legend and Time and compared to them, this kid was as obvious as Aryll.

"You fight like a soldier," Wind corrected before Proxi could yell at him for Link. "You fight like you have people at your side, giving blows when you’re planning your next move."

He frowned.

"Link is a soldier," Proxi said, fluttering in front of Wind scoldingly.

Wind rolled his eyes. "Yes, he is. But the thing is, he's expected to be a hero." He met Link's eyes. "People won't think to fight beside you and cover your mistakes." Sky had said that it was hard to adjust when he began to fight with the other knights. "You have to cover yourself, you have to follow up yourself."

There was a deep rooted sadness, a plea that Wind couldn't decipher in his eyes, and Link nodded.

"How?" Proxi asked.

Wind thought about it and recalled the clearing outside the camp.

"We'll train," he said. He recalled what Warriors had told him once. "You can't fight and expect to think at the same time, especially when you fight alone. You have to always be moving." He headed for the clearing, close enough to camp they weren't missing, but far enough nobody should see them. "My older brother taught me how to fight like a Sheikah," he informed them, "so I'll show you how to do the same, and then we'll see if Impa can help us get better."

"Us?" Proxi asked.

"Eh, I don’t mind learning more."

Between battles, Link--through Proxi--asked Wind to train more, especially after bad battles. Mask started following and throw in in advice, but neither Wind nor Link fought with heavy, two handed weapons like Mask did. So his advice wasn't bad, just didn't go very far.

Wind found himself missing his brothers fast. It was like Hytopia all over again, but this time he had them right there... they just didn't know him yet.

He slipped away from the camp at the end of the second week in this war and ten consecutive battles, and he found a spot to just sit.

He found himself humming, not quite singing but the wind sang with him. Trees rustling to the tune.

He felt someone disturb the breeze and looked over to see Wolfie padding over.

"Hey, Forest," he murmured. Wolfie lowered himself beside him. "Can't change back?"

He boofed.

"Good," he sighed. "I know you hate that... goddesses, when are you? Have you met the captain before?"

Wolfie bobbed his head in a nod.

"Okay, have you finished that quest?"

Wolfie boofed softly.

Wind hummed. "You’re older then... are you even displaced? You live until the Champion's era, right?"

Wolfie gave him a look and Wind wasn't sure how off he was.

"So Midna's displaced. Does she think you’re displaced?"

Wolfie nodded again.

"That must suck ass," Wind laughed, he knew it came out bitter but oh well, he couldn't keep face at the moment. His brother was doomed to live millennia beyond his time, they didn't even know if he'd finally rest after Wild, just that he would be there until him.

They fell silent and he messed with the winds, letting a soft song that he used to hear Wild hum all the time ring through the trees and between the branches and grass.

He buried his face against his knees, just trying to stop thinking. The worst part was that he was hardly anytime into this thing. Warriors said once the war had gone on three years. Time said it was the shortest three years of his life, which both Four and Legend had gotten upset over because how could a stretch of time take longer or shorter than another?

He was two weeks into this, and he was tired. He wanted his brothers back but they were right there.

The wind that brushed over Wolfie suddenly ran into something else. Wind didn't get the chance to look up before he was pulled into strong arms.

"I can't stay like this long, Sailor," Twilight murmured quietly. "They can't know 'bout me."

He wanted to cry. "I want to go back."

"I know, it'll be okay though," Twilight promised. "I'm right here, an' so's the Captain and the Old Man."

Wind laughed. "Ain't much of an old man, isn't he?"

"No, never really has been," Twilight said and Wind was certain there was something deeper to his words. "Alright. Listen to me, Ocean." Wind met his eyes and noticed the blue was much, much sharper than before. "Yer a hero, if you could remake the Triforce you can win a war." He laughed a bit. "You can train our Cap'n into the warrior we meet."

Wind swallowed and nodded.

"I'm gonna to change back now, an' I'm gonna go back to Midna, she ain't gonna be happy I left in the first place, but you come find me if you need me... I think ya'll be fine though."

Wind hugged him one more time before he transformed back into Wolfie.

"Link!" He jumped and saw Mask climbing over a log from the camp. He was glaring at him. "What are you doing out here?"

Wind looked to Twilight, but he was gone, he had disappeared.

"Just..." Wind trailed off. "Thinking."

Mask scoffed. "Right. Well the big Link wants to talk to you about you being here."

He tilted his head. "What do you mean?"

"You’re what, fourteen?"

Wind nodded.

"It's not legal to do anything as a kid here," Mask spat, "anything important at least. He's eighteen, almost nineteen. He had to fucking adopt me when I showed up so I could legally help in this stupid, fucking war that dragged me from my time. I'm guessing that's what he's going to do with you, or if you don’t like him, someone else from here and an adult will need to or you have to go to some orphanage 'til the war's over."

Wind stared, in part of what he said and in part of what he said. "That's--sorry, aren't you too young to be cursing?" That's what Time always told him.

"Fuck off. I'm older than I look," Mask snapped. "Look, three days can very easily become three years, that's all I got to say on that."

Wind blinked, then he shrugged. "Fair enough. But either way, their laws on kids is utter bullshit. I've fought Ganondorf, I killed Ganondorf, I sailed across the entire ocean when I was twelve!"

"And I've killed Ganondorf twice, and I fought the moon," Mask said bluntly, "they don’t care."

He groaned. "Fine. Fine! If it makes things easier, I don't mind the Captain adopting me."

Mask made a face--he must get better at controlling his face in the future--and Wind could tell he didn't like that.

He frowned. "Unless you don’t like that."

"I didn't say I did, fucking--"

"You didn't need to." Wind realized even if he claimed to be older than he looked, he was definitely still a kid. "Do we need to go back now?"

"No..."

"Why don’t you join me then?" Wind gestured to the forest floor beside him. "I was listening to music."

"What music?"

Wind grinned. "Listen."

He twitched his fingers, he didn't need the Wind Waker anymore to control the winds, it was a part of him. Soon, the wind sang around them. A song that Time taught him when he pestered the old man into playing his ocarina--the wooden one, the non-magic one--reverberated around him.

Mask froze, eyes widening as he looked up and listened to the upbeat song. The forest itself seemed to like it. Wind had noticed this particular song did well in forests.

"How..." Mask croaked. "What..."

"My older brother taught me," Wind said and Mask snapped his head toward him. Wind gave him a smile. "He said it's a gate to the past... a past we can't return to, but that doesn't mean it has to be sad, there's a future we can go to instead."

Mask was trembling a bit, his hand rested on his pouch. "Can you make it keep playing?"

Wind smiled and nodded. Mask sat down beside him and just listened.

"Do you know any other songs?" Mask asked, quiet as if he feared disturbing the song that was literally in the airs

Wind orchestrated with his fingers, small, imperceptible movements.

The song changed to the one Tetra taught him, a song she only vaguely remembered as the one her mother sang to her. He learned the whole thing from Legend.

"How... How do you know this one?" Mask asked.

"My best friend taught it to me," he said. "She only knows part of it, her mom sang it to her as a lullaby but she died and now my friend can't remember the whole thing anymore. My little brother knows the whole thing though, he taught me the rest."

"Little brother?  How many do you have?"

"Ah, technically I only have a little sister. Blood-wise at least." He smiled up at the sky, thinking of Aryll and teaching her those constellations that shone overhead. "But I've got eight brothers, most older, one of them was younger than me but time travel made him older, he's still my little brother though. I'm not related to them though."

Mask nodded. "So the little brother is who taught you this song?"

"Yeah."

"Is he a prince? Because this song is for the royal family. Ima guess your best friend is your Zelda, we found out both Captain Link and I have a Zelda."

 Wind smiled. "Her name is Tetra, actually, but yeah she's my Zelda. As for him... I don't know, if he is, he never told me. He did mention having a sister though."

"Maybe you should've asked," Mask said. "If he is... well, at least I know it's not completely impossible for the goddess to have sons."

Wind had no clue what he meant by that but he left it alone.

The song kept playing through the air, and a moment later, Wind felt Mask fall asleep against his shoulder. He couldn't help but smile softly, brushing curtain bangs aside.

He knew Mask would look like the little kid he clearly was if he just stopped scowling.

He felt someone draw near and he lightened their footsteps to force them to be quieter, and reached for his sword in case it wasn't someone he could trust.

Wolfie entered, ridden by Midna, followed by Link.

"There--"

"Shh," Wind hissed. Midna almost argued but fell quiet when she saw Mask asleep.

Link, who Wind had only seen tense and firm since they... met, lost all tension in his shoulders as he approached.

"He's fine," Wind whisper before Proxi could say a word. "I was playing some tunes and I guess the lullabies were too good."

"Tunes?" Link repeated, smiling softly and Wind startled a bit at hearing his voice. "Odd word. Suits you."

He stared at him for only a moment before smiling. "Thanks... I guess." He glanced at Mask, then at Link. "I think you'll have better luck taking him to bed than I will."

Link hummed. "Thank you, Tune."

Tune. He liked that.

"It's nothing," he promised quietly. "Kid needs his sleep."

Link laughed quietly. He reached over and Tune clapped silently when he managed to pick up Mask without waking the kid. Link rolled his eyes and lightly kicked him.

"Come on," he whispered, "you need sleep too."

Tune grinned at him and bounced up to his feet. He was about to retort when Mask shifted in Link's arms. They froze.

Tune mimed zipping his lips shut and Link nodded. They left the clearing and Tune flicked his fingers to bring the lullaby back to the air, Midna and Wolfie followed them while Proxi settled on Link's head.

Midna floated around Link to coo mockingly at Mask, he gave her a pointed look. Tune smiled softly as Proxi hissed warnings at Midna.

He startled when Wolfie nosed his hand. Then he just smiled and pet his head for a second, not enough to be petting him, but as an acknowledgment.

He wasn't alone. He had his brothers here. Some a bit younger--some a lot younger, and some much, much older, but they were still his brothers.

He wondered how long he'd be gone from the quest... he wondered if he'd ever return.

Warriors glared at the fire after everyone gathered again. They spent the whole day searching on the off chance that Wind had only been displaced in space and not time.

"Maybe we're not going far enough?" Sky tried.

"He should be getting a signal from my slate," Wild sighed. "He could call me all the way from Lurelin when I was in the Akkala Research Lab. Opposite sides of the country."

"I..." Sky sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

"Can I cook?" Legend asked suddenly. Warriors looked over at their veteran, who had hardly said a word since Wind was taken. He was flexing his hands and fidgeting.

Wild handed over his slate and Warriors shifted away from the fire as Legend knelt by it.

"What even happened?" Four wondered aloud. "That portal had a purpose. It wanted one of us, obviously, and Wind was just the one who it got. But why?"

Warriors wondered that too. It had looked a lot like Lana's and Cia's portals, but the war was over, Lana didn't do portals and Cia was gone. Nobody could form those portals anymore, so obviously that wasn't it.

An hour later, they were eating cookies.

Nobody knew how Legend made cookies in a cooking pot, but none of them decided to question it. Though Warriors was a bit concerned when he saw the veteran handing Wild a... a whole pie?

Tune was fifteen and staring at the carnage of their camp.

No, they weren't post battle, but he almost wished they were.

"Why?" He asked, voice strained.

Mask grinned at him. "Because."

"You dyed Impa's hair bright green."

"Yep."

"She's going to kill you."

"She doesn't know it was me."

Tune inhaled carefully. "Look, kid, I--Never mind. Just, next time get that guy who told Link--"

"That all he is is a pretty face?" A hysterical scream echoed through the camp as Mask's grin grew. "I already did."

 Tune looked over and lo and behold, a soldier was on fire.

"Good job," he said. Mask grinned brighter and he disappeared to oceans knew where.

Tune didn't know how Link couldn't tell it was Mask responsible for those incidents--Tune called them Mask Incidents--but he didn't and it was the funniest thing ever.

Mask hoped the war wouldn't end some days, the nice days, the ones he could pull tricks on Link and run off with Tune only for Midna and Wolfie to drag them back.

Other days, he almost wished he was back in Termina, at least it never got that bad there.

He never knew where Tune stood on that scale, he knew his big brother fellow hero missed his brothers and his family back home, but Tune never seemed to show that.

He noticed him start drawing, and for the first few months, Tune's scrapped sketches that Mask never got full view of were thrown into a fire. Almost an entire year went by like that until Tune stopped and then would hug his sketchbook to his chest.

Mask never thought Tune could be sad, not truly sad. He'd seen the older kid get mad, usually when someone was hurt, he'd seen him happy and everything else. Never upset or sad.

Not until one late night he woke up to screaming and crying.

Mask shot up. He saw the swish of Link's scarf and then saw the source of the screaming in Tune, who was now just sobbing in his bed.

Mask had felt fear before, but not often for another person. Usually he was the one in danger, this war had changed that to an extent but still.

In that moment, he feared to his core that Tune had been poisoned in the night or something. He scrambled up as Link wrapped Tune up in his scarf.

"Shh--it's okay, you’re okay, it's alright, Link," Link murmured softly into Tune's temple. Tune sobbed and cling to him.

It clicked. A nightmare.

"Please," Tune begged.

"Its okay. We're right here. Mask is with us, I got you, you’re right here. It's okay," Link promised. "You’re okay. It's okay."

"It's not," Tune sobbed. "I want to go back."

Mask frowned. What?

"I know," Link promised, and that just cut Mask deeper. "It'll happen eventually, don't worry, it'll be alright."

Several more minutes of crying and quiet platitudes, Link didn't talk to anyone except for Tune and Mask much and Mask almost worried all the talking would hurt his throat as bad as Tune's sounded.

Then Tune went quiet, his shaking slowly ceased. Link wrapped him tighter in his big scarf and looked over at Mask.

Link frowned. "Sprite? Are you okay?"

"Huh?" Mask blinked, startling as he felt a tear fall. "I-I'm fine!"

"C'mere," he said softly. "We'll have a cuddle pile."

Mask huffed but he climbed onto Tune's bed with them.

"What's on your mind, Sprite?" Link asked quietly.

Mask sighed. "He wants to leave us."

Link squeezed his arm. "It's not that, it's... it's not us, it's them. You know he loves us, he's adopted you just as much as I have at this point." Mask snorted. "It's just... he misses those siblings he talks about all the time."

"But we're right here," Mask insisted, letting Link pull him close and feeling his interrupted sleep tug on him.

"I know, Sprite," Link whispered against his head. "I know, but we only miss what we don't have."

Tune was sixteen and staring at his Sheikah stone. He had tried to call Wild maybe a thousand times since he ended up here.

He was exactly sixteen, actually... it was his birthday. He was officially the same age as Four.

He had spent hours and hours learning how to draw well, and it got him a sketchbook full of pictures of the others. He stared at the group picture he'd drawn, then flicked a few pages, tracing the dark lines of Wild's scars, Four's eyes, Hyrule's ears, Legend's smirk, Twilight's tattoo, Time's nose, Warriors' smile.

He was so engrossed in memories he didn't even notice someone sit beside him until they spoke.

"Is that Captain Link? You messed up, he doesn't have a scar there." Mask pointed at the scar against Warriors' neck.

Tune jerked his sketchbook back against his chest, hiding the drawings from the kid.

Mask gave him a narrowed eyed look. "What? You've shown me your stuff before."

"Not them," he said, clutching his sketchbook tight. "Look, I... It's not our Link, that's my older brother."

Mask stared at him. "He looks a lot like Link."

"I know," Tune let out a strained, bitter laugh. "Oh trust me, I know."

He frowned. "Does... Does that bother you?" His words were careful and very strained. It didn't take a Mask expert to know he was uncomfortable with saying them.

Tune snorted. "Don’t hurt yourself. We both know that comfort ain't your thing."

Mask huffed. "Oh fuck off. I'm trying."

Tune laughed a bit. He trailed off, the dancing and crackling fire almost letting him pretend he was in a very different camp.

"A little bit," he admitted. "Sometimes I'll... Sometimes I look over and I think it's him, I think it's my brother--and yeah, Link is my brother, adoption or not. I wouldn't trade either of you for anything, I just.." he sighed. "I miss them. I miss Aryll and Tetra and my Grandma. Aryll's almost fourteen now."

"How... How old are you?"

Tune looked at the sky. "Sixteen."

"Wait really? As of when?"

He smiled sadly. "Today."

Mask made an affronted noise. "And you didn't say anything?! Okay, no more moping!" He grabbed Tune's arm and dragged him up. "Link!"

They had a whole, thrown together party after the others found out it was Tune's birthday. Between Marin's familiar islander singing and dancing, Ravio's ability to just have everything you need when you need it, and everyone else's just...

It was a good night; a good birthday.

Tune searched the battlefield, the blood and carnage around them, and more particularly, Link's absence.

"Mask!" He barked, turning the corner of the dark palace and spotting the young hero stumbling back after prying his sword free of a ribcage. "Where's the Captain?"

"He chased Cia somewhere," Mask spat, glaring at the bodies. He fixed his Keaton mask on the side of his head. "I couldn't keep up with all the monsters."

With Cia? Tune cursed Link's insistence on keeping Mask out of the loop on what Cia really wanted, even if he wholeheartedly understood and agreed.

"Which way?" He demanded.

Mask gestured down the hall. "That way, don't know from there."

"Keep up," Tune snapped. He pulled the Wind Waker from his pouch, he'd need the--what did Legend call it, a focus?--extra help from the baton. He extended his senses into the wind and blew it outward, running down the hall.

A moblin was blasted out a window and he finally sensed where Link--and Cia--was.

He stopped by a broken window, eyes narrowing. "They're on the top floor. Get there fast, I'm taking a shortcut."

"A shortcut? How--TUNE!"

A tornado flung him out the window and up into the sky.

He spotted the large windows to the top floor, and as they drew closer he could see the glint of Link's sword, the Master Sword, on the ground. He twisted in air and shattered the window as he dove right through it.

Cia snarled as she stepped away from Link, who was on the ground with his back against the wall.

"You little brats--"

"Get the fuck away from him!" Tune lunged at her. She cursed violently, stumbling back and swinging her wand at him. He batted it aside with his shield and tried to slash at her.

Between their anger, neither was quite losing to the other until Tune finally took a hit and wasn't able to get away before Cia grabbed him by the chin.

Link screamed. "No!"

Tune had never heard Link speak outside of safe moments between mostly just the three of them.

Tune froze with the wand pointed at his chest. "You’re... You’re not a hero," she said. "You lack that gorgeous immortal spirit."

"No. No--Stop it Cia!" Link begged, getting to his feet. "Let him go, please!"

Tune snarled. "My spirit is my own. I made it. You can go fuck yourself."

"Please," Link all but whimpered, "please, let him go."

Cia grinned slowly, her eyes slipping to Link.

Tune didn't let her keep her eyes on him long. He kicked her exposed stomach, kneeing the wand in the process. She gasped, falling back and he lunged right at her.

She fell back, but he had the advantage suddenly and she couldn't handle it.

Tune snarled when she used her magic and vanished. But that wasn't what was important.

He turned quickly and ran over to Link, sheathing his sword on his back.

"Link! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did she touch you?" Tune demanded, Link collapsed back to the ground, shaking.

Link made a strangled noise. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. It's all my fault--"

"No." Tune knelt down in front of him, ignoring the pain flaring through his knee. "No, don't you say that. You didn't ask for this--Link, look at me," he lowered himself to force Link to meet his eyes, "look at me. You didn't ask for this, you didn't ask for any of this. Now talk to me, are you hurt? Did she touch you?"

Link slowly lifted his chin and moved his hand away from his neck. Tune saw the line of blood from the edge of his jaw down to his collarbone.

He pulled out a cloth and a red potion from his pouch, uncorking the potion and letting Link handle drinking it and holding the cloth to the cut.

"Alright, let's go," Tune said softly. "We're going to find Mask and go back to camp, you’re going to clean up and rest, we'll keep watch."

"You need rest too," Link protested weakly.

"I've stayed up longer," Tune promised. "Trust me, I'll rest later. Do you want a hand?"

Link shook his head. Tune nodded and got up, he went and gathered Link's sword and shield as the captain stood unsteadily. He handed the weapons over and led the way out.

Mask was running around the corner just in time.

"You missed it!" Tune teased him. "Too slow I guess."

"You left me!" Mask shoved him. "Brat."

"Older than you."

"I'll kill you."

"And get left behind again?"

Tune kept Mask effectively distracted as they got back to the ended battle and then to camp.

Getting Midna and Wolfie to continue distracting Mask was easy, Tune left with Link and began his vigil for the shaking teenager.

"TUNE!" Mask screamed.

Tune rolled across the rocky battlefield, pain shooting through his head and body.

The battle had been going on for what felt like weeks but was probably only a day or two. It didn't matter either way, Tune had made a mistake that may be costing him his life.

He couldn't get up. He couldn't see. His left arm was broken for sure, he had no chance--

He felt the ground shake as the heavy monster he had been fighting lumbered toward him.

He shouldn't have messed that one up. He could handle big monsters, that was how he handled things. He used his size to his advantage. It shouldn't have caught him but a blade had caught his face right before the thing's mace caught his side.

Now he was laying injured on a battlefield without any support nearby. He was so dead.

An apology went out to the stars, a plea for his families to know he wouldn't come back.

His vision was already dark, but even then it slipped away as unconsciousness took hold.

Link hadn't expected Tune to be the first one down that day, but he heard Mask scream at the same moment he heard the cracking of bones. He saw Tune tumble across the battlefield.

He rushed to get close, but he couldn't manage it.

A burst of power fell over the field, a flicker of Lana's magic too, and Link saw the Fierce Deity unleash its and Mask's fury onto the battlefield.

He ran to get to Tune, slashing through the hordes, but when he reached the area, someone was already there and fending off the horde.

A teenaged girl wielding a cutlass was standing over Tune, Lana's magic around her and her unsteady movements showed she had only just been brought here, Link had thought Lana agreed not to displace more people, but he wouldn't complain when this girl was the only reason he could hope that Tune wasn't dead.

He fought his way to them as Fierce Deity cleared the rest of the field in minutes. The girl turned on him, raising her cutlass.

He halted and held his hands up.

"Who the hell are you and why the fuck is Link hurt?" She demanded.

Proxi flew forward. "We're trying to help him, he's our friend and a dark stalmaster got the drop on him!"

The girl hesitated. "Do you have healing supplies?"

Link nodded.

She moved aside and Link rushed to Tune's side. He called a healing fairy while pouring his water onto a clean cloth and wiping at Tune's blood-covered face.

The girl inhaled sharply. "Great Oceans," she breathed, "Link..."

Link couldn't blame her. Tune's eye was gone. The healing fairy murmured her apologies but she couldn't restore his eye. Otherwise, she healed him, even the broken arm, and he'd wake soon.

Link cleaned the blood from Tune's face. Closing the eye again.

"I... He'll need an eyepatch," the girl said. "To keep things from getting into it."

Link felt the power oppressing the field fade, he looked over and saw the Fierce Deity vanish...

Mask collapsed.

"Mask!" Proxi cried. "Watch him!" She ordered the girl.

Knowing a friend of Tune's was watching him, Link ran to Mask's side.

How had this battle gone so wrong that both his little brothers were hurt? Why was Mask's face covered in blood too?

He skidded across the dirt and pulled Mask into his arms. He shouldn't be injured, Fierce Deity swore to Link once that any harm that comes to Mask is only from the transformation itself, never anything else.

So why was blood gushing from Mask's eye when he hadn't been injured like that before he put on the mask? Why was he passed out?

Link looked over and saw the girl helping Tune to his feet. Tune wobbled a bit, but he was clearly distracted as he just stared at her.

Link shifted his hand to his sword, ready to run to Tune's aid in case this girl wasn't the ally he assumed she was--

Tune tackled her with a cry. "Tetra!"

Tune was a completely different person with Tetra around, Link noticed. Not in a bad or weird way, he just... seemed happier.

Mask was quiet for several days after that battle. His eye was white now, and he had colorful markings on his face. But when Tune was finally allowed to introduce Tetra to the kid, the two teenagers got Mask right back to high spirits.

It felt like ages since the day they both lost an eye, but Tune was glad they were able to make up for each other's blind spots. He was panting, breathing heavily as he and Mask searched for their next opponent yet.

A flash of white came and Mask was lowering his Fierce Deity mask, Tune tensed at seeing the familiar markings on his face and scar over his eye.

"Link!" Tetra jogged over with Midna and Wolfie in tow. "Is it over?"

"Not sure," Tune said. "We should go find the Captain. He'd be at the center of anything if it's not."

They nodded.

Soon enough, they did find Link, and they found Lana holding Cia's unmoving form.

The moment Tune met Lana's eyes, he knew. He grabbed Tetra's hand. She startled and shot him a glare but didn't pull away.

Tune looked over at Mask beside him, at how different he was since they first met. He was a decent bit taller now but not yet even taller than Tune. He was fifteen, Tune knew, the three years of war and three years in Termina put his mental age a year younger than Tune. Physically though, he was only twelve.

He tried to commit the kid he knows to memory. His face, the still red scar over his eye, the lack of sight in that same eye, the markings... the softer look he didn't have when they first met. He wasn't as jaded and exhausted anymore.

"Mask! Tune!" Link ran over to them. "Are you guys okay?"

"We're fine," Mask said dismissively. "What about you?"

"I'm okay," Link promised. Tune was proud of how much he grew since they met, how much more he spoke. "It's--"

"Link," Tune spoke, letting go of Tetra to move forward. "We're leaving."

Mask spun to look at him. "What?!"

Link stared.

Tune nodded to Lana, who was pressing her forehead to Cia's and not looking at them yet, whispering something.

"It's time for us to return," Tune said quietly. "Their magic is growing right now, I can feel it, can't you?"

Mask stared, then tears bubbled in his eyes. "I..."

"Yeah," Tune said. "We're leaving soon." He stepped closer. "I'll see you soon."

"Don’t say that," Link whispered and he pulled Tune into a hug, Mask too.

"Time's a weird thing, Captain," Tune laughed. "Who knows, maybe Mask here will be the oldest of us next time."

"I hope not," Mask grumbled. "I like being the youngest, even if being a kid sucks ass. Being the oldest means responsibility."

Link laughed. "And we all know you hate being responsible," Link teased.

"I... I don’t want to go," Mask admitted.

"I know," Tune sighed. "But hey, isn't there anyone back home you'd like to see again? An old friend, someone who helped you out? What about that horse of yours?"

Mask gave him a more vulnerable, sad look than he'd ever seen on the young hero's face. "But you..."

"Here." Tune suddenly pressed his Wind Waker into Mask's hands. "Keep this safe for me. Give it back next time I see you."

"Wha--but--"

"Nope. No arguments. Maybe you'll have some fun with it and the Song of Storms."

Mask clutched the baton to his chest. Link ruffled Tune's hair.

"You’re a good brother," Link told him. "Be safe, okay, sailor?"

Tune grinned. "Of course."

They could all feel the moment Lana and Cia were righting and returning everyone to their times. Tune quickly hugged Wolfie before he grabbed Tetra's hand.

"Wait!" Mask suddenly ran and shoved something wooden into Tune's chest. Tune startled and he stared in shock at the item he was given. He saw Mask wipe a tear from his face. "So--So you know I won't use it anymore."

"Mask--"

"No. Keep it--we'll trade back next time."

Tune laughed softly. "Alright, fine."

Link pulled them both into another hug, he signed a goodbye to the others as well, and Tune clutched the Fierce Deity mask against his chest.

Everyone waved goodbye, and he waved back as the world vanished around him, Tetra included.

Tune knew he was different from how he was before the war. He was older, for one. Two years older.

He looked more like a pirate, eye patch for his right eye, a scar along his lower arm, he couldn't fit his lobster shirt anymore--it got torn up beyond their ability to repair it, but he kept it in case maybe Legend could--but he still kept blue, though it was a darker shade and more of a jacket than a shirt, he thought he looked more like a pirate... the jacket definitely didn't look like Linebeck's either.

As he found himself standing in a forest, alone, he looked down at the mask in his hands, brushing a finger over the markings it shared with his little brother.

He sighed softly, put it away, swiped the tears from his face, and started to look around for any path or sign of hylian or human life.

It was dark before he spotted anything, and that was a fire.

He wandered toward the fire, moving as lightly as possible and not making a sound as he did so.

He came up to a fire where a familiar--painfully so, his art never did them justice, suddenly his heart hurt at seeing them--group of hylians sat around a fire.

He took a breath, backed up, made certain the closest person was Warriors who would attack but would hesitate when he saw him--he trusted that--and he entered the light of the fire.

The camp was quieter than usual. Legend knew exactly why.  

Wind was still missing, a week and one new era later, their youngest was still gone.

Legend didn't ever know he could... bake with a cooking pot, but somehow he could and did. He also didn't know that he stress baked still, but apparently yep, that too.

He wasn't sure how to keep morale up either, not anymore. Wind always helped in that regard.

Suddenly he heard branches cracking and someone stumbled into their camp. He grabbed his sword and was ready to attack.

"I have been looking for years--" the newcomer with extremely familiar magic began, "and I still haven't figured out where you got the gall to pretend you're responsible!"

There was a brief moment of silence before Warriors burst into laughter and Time groaned.

Legend blinked. "SAILOR?!"

Warriors cackled louder, Time held his head in his hands, and the newcomer--messy blond hair, an eyepatch over one eye, a dark blue coat with a lobster sewn onto the chest pocket, a huge, familiar smirk--gave Legend a bright smile in replacement of that smirk.

"Knew you'd recognize me, Apple." Wind laughed. "Honestly, how did you convince everyone you’re actually responsible, Mask? Myself included. You're an absolute menace and I have the scars to prove it."

"I never scarred you."

"Mentally you did!"

"Please. You were just as involved."

"Boys."

Sky made a surprised noise as both Time and Wind shut up at Warriors' voice, but Warriors was grinning like an idiot and Legend was so confused.

"Honestly, not even ten seconds back together and you’re causing problems."

"He's the one who set Impa's tent on fire!"

"You--" Time clicked his jaw shut and glared at Wind. "You're lucky I'm an adult now."

"As if that stopped you before," he retorted. He crossed his arms and redirected his gaze to everyone else. "So, it's been two years for me, I can tell you that war sucks and I'm still younger than my little brothers. Someone wanna remind me what shit is going down again? I have no clue what I've forgotten."

"I give up," Four declared, falling back onto the ground. "I think that makes me the youngest now. Yayyyyy."

"I don't even..." Wild trailed off.

Legend couldn't help but agree with all of them.

Twilight looked genuinely exhausted, Sky confused, Time seemed like he very much wasn't the annoyingly vague and mysterious sage person and instead an annoyed kid who got called out, Warriors looked rather content, Four and Wild seemed done, and Hyrule had visibly checked out at some point. Legend felt like he was some mix of all of the above with the exception of Warriors and Time, since they apparently knew what was going on.

He sighed heavily and scooted a bit closer to Twilight. He pat the open ground beside him. "Sit down, update us and we'll update you."

He knew that was the right move as he felt Wind's magic swell and envelop his like a tornado. Wind did sit beside him and immediately launched into a story about how he ended up in some storage room and got beat up by some "badass Sheikah lady" who was apparently Warriors' Impa, and who helped Wind teach Warriors how to fight like he does... because Warriors was the one to teach Wind how to fight that way.

He also talked about how Time was not responsible and was literally faking it til he made it because they put him on a pedestal, and Wind was certain that every time they turned to him for advice, Time internally panicked and gave some vague response to escape it.

He supposed he'd have to get used to it, Wind was back, Ocean was back... and older now. He wasn't so much younger than Legend anymore...

He also had dirt on Time and Legend was looking forward to how things changed from here.

"Hey, Tune."

Everyone glanced at Time as Wind tilted his head.

"Yeah?"

Time threw something at him and Wind caught it. Legend's eyes widened as he saw Wind holding his Wind Waker and smile softly.

"You actually kept it," he said, holding the baton carefully. He grinned at Time. "Thanks. Want your mask back?"

"Keep it safe for me, just a little longer," Time told him.

Wind nodded firmly, a certain look in his eyes as he glanced at his side where his pouch was, as if warning it to stay put.

[cafecreme8]

Lino prints of Sodo😍🔥

[baileys-writing-desk]

The Afternoon Sun

Four was gravely injured in a monster attack, and it took everything Hyrule had to save him. Two days on, the smithy finally learns of the strange place he’s ended up in: Faron’s basin.

(This is concurrent with The Morning Sun, but it can be read on its own)

AO3

In Four’s brief moments of wakefulness, a strange blue creature towers over him…and there’s water all around…he’s in water. Why?

“Don’t worry, Link. You’re safe…”

He has no choice anyway, the smithy remembers as he floats in and out. He can’t leave…he doesn’t know what’s going on. Briefly he is met with the blurry face of the veteran standing in front of him, but even that doesn’t last long as his eyes slowly slip closed again.

“Four…”

“No- don’t fall asleep…yet…”

The next time he stirs, his body is still overcome with weakness, but he has gained just enough awareness to truly think, of what in Hylia’s name could have happened for him to end up here. He whines as his mind draws a blank.

Then a voice sounds from above.

“Ah! Back again, little Link. You with me, boy?”

Four slowly peels his eyes open. The familiar-looking giant blue creature from earlier- or at least a blurry distortion of it- peers down at him from above. He’s still partially submerged in water, with dark walls curving up over him in a circular shape.

Where…exactly am I?

What is that thing??

He grunts, trying and failing to blink the blurriness out of his vision. His body is still incredibly drained…although he must have been asleep for quite a while. The water drips and ripples slightly around him, as the creature extends her arm forward and dips what looks to be two fingers in. Testing the waters, he presumes. But why? Why is he in water?

Must not be regular water.

“Still warm enough…” it mutters, raising its arm back up. “Boy, please speak if you can hear me, will you? It does no good talking to myself.”

…But what kind of water is this?

Four hesitates. The creature wants him to speak; he must not leave it waiting.

“Wh- who are you…?” he croaks, voice incredibly dry. He tries to clear his throat but simply coughs instead. Damn…All this water around yet his mouth still feels like a desert.

“Ah, I suppose I have yet to introduce myself. Now that you seem coherent enough, I shall.” The creature’s blurry face begins to focus a little, showing dark eyes and purplish lips against the pale blue. Two long string-like antennae wave around the sides of her head. “I am Lady Faron, the Water Dragon and warden of the woods. You, young boy, are in my hall within the lake. Now don’t worry, you’re safe here with me.”

Faron…He’s heard that name before. But where…?

The smithy frowns, raising a hand out of the water to touch his forehead. “…And why am I-“

“In my basin, you ask?” Faron chuckles. “That one’s easy. It’s to heal you. In case you don’t remember, you were gravely injured.”

…Oh.

A faint memory drifts in, of his inability to parry a monster’s sharp blade. I was stabbed.

“I…I do.” Four groans, eyebrow furrowing as he starts to make out more of Faron’s features. “You…saved me?”

“Now, boy, don’t give me all the credit here. Another of your companions used all his magic to close your wounds. That is what saved you. But you were still far too weak….” She pauses. “The water you are lying in is my sacred water, which acts as a healing bath.”

Another of your companions…

Hyrule. It had to be Hyrule.

He drops his hand back into the water, noticing the tingling effects of the dragon’s magical substance.

“So tell me, little Link…how do you feel?”

“I’m…” The questions swim through his head. Where’s Rulie? Why does Faron sound so familiar? “…I’ve been better, just so tired…”

Is Rulie okay?

“Are you in any pain?”

Slowly and gently, he shakes his head, being mindful of the dull ache. “Where’s…Hyrule?”

“Oh, him? He’s resting with the Thunder Dragon in his domain. Don’t worry, he’s in very good hands. Lanayru’s grown quite attached to that boy.”

…Lanayru?

This must be Sky’s era, he realizes.

And something comes to mind about three guardian dragons…Lanayru, Eldin?…and Faron. Of course. Water Dragon. He blames his muddled brain for not putting the pieces together earlier.

“Is…anyone else here?” he manages. “…Legend?” Yes. The vet was here, right?

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” Faron frowns, glancing around the rest of the hall which Four cannot see from the basin. “It’s only you and me. Well…and my Kikwis.”

Your- what??

A small splash comes from his right. Slowly the confused smithy turns his head, as far as he can without dipping his face in the water. Something is there next to him. Something like…a very weird-looking- what?? It stares at him with cute eyes and chuckles, opening its bird-like beak slightly.

“Wh-“ Four startles. “-what the hell is that thing??”

Faron only laughs. “Ah, little Link, I assume it’s your first Kikwi encounter. Now don’t worry, he won’t harm you. If he does, boy, tell me and he’s dinner!”

He coughs from the effort of raising his voice, gazing at the little Kikwi playing in the shallow water. What even are those??

And what was that about dinner?

“No…I won’t eat that…whatever it is.” Four mutters, turning his head back to face Faron.

“Oh, you wouldn’t be eating him!” The Water Dragon grins mischievously. “I will.”

Suddenly it all clicks.

It’s her. Faron. That bitchy dragon who eats things smaller than her. And Four is quite a bit smaller—

Oh no.

This can’t be good.

Too weak to sit up fully, he flails his hands and attempts to scamper back, startling the poor Kikwi. “Nonono…” he squeaks out. “Donteatmedonteatmedonteatmedont-“

“Hey, relax!” Faron’s eyes widen. “Did I say I was going to eat you?”

“No, but…I’ve heard things-“

“Of course you have. My Link must have put that idea into your little head.” She scoffs. “Four, I won’t eat you. Take my word.”

The smithy takes a deep breath, laying back down into the water, exhausted from the energy he had just used. Beside him the Kikwi chortles.

“You promise?” he asks, almost in a whisper.

“On my life.”

Wow. She’s serious about this. He still doesn’t quite know if he can trust her…but it’s not like he has much of a choice. The walls of the basin are far too high for him to climb out, and she most likely wouldn’t let him leave in his condition.

He lets out a long sigh. “…Okay.”

I guess I’ll trust you.

“Well! I’m glad we got that sorted out.” The Water Dragon laughs, then pauses to think. “You’ve been in my hands for over a day, it would be a shame if we didn’t get along, now, wouldn’t it?”

Four slowly nods his head, feeling the sacred water continue to gradually lessen the ache. The Kikwi steps closer to him and taps his cheek.

“And me too! I’ve been by your side, kwee!”

Wait. Did that Kikwi just talk?!

He gasps in surprise, wide eyes staring at the small creature. “You…you can talk too??”

“Ah yes, they can.” Faron answers first. “I suppose that’s a detail I should have mentioned before.”

The Kikwi giggles. “Sorry to startle you, little Link. I’m Machi, kwee!”

Machi. What an interesting name.

“H-hi…Machi. It’s nice to meet you, um…” The smithy hesitates. “You can call me Four.”

“Like the number, I know! How peculiar. Where did that name come from, kwee?”

Oh Hylia…Four groans in displeasure. Now is not the best time to explain the whole story of the Four Sword and how he can split into four people, it's…Too much. Far too exhausting.

“Now Machi, don’t overwhelm him.” Faron’s voice, for once, relieves him. “He’s too weak for explaining, that can come later.”

Thank goodness.

“Oh…my apologies, kwee.” Machi’s eyes droop slightly, and Four briefly reaches out to pat its belly.

“It’s okay,” he mutters. The small Kikwi smiles before stepping back to glance up at Faron. Why do they say ‘kwee’ all the time?, he wonders. These little creatures are quite peculiar.

Four takes a deep breath, resting his eyes and letting his body relax once more. Normally he would be able to deal with all these new discoveries; he would be fascinated at Faron and the Kikwis and their ways of life. He would ask Faron why this basin is clearly made for her, and if she’s ever had to use it. He would leave the hall and take a swim for a while, studying the marine life in this unfamiliar region and telling Hyrule excitedly about his findings.

But he is far from strong enough…nowhere near his full self. That will all have to wait, too.

“Little Link, you still look quite drained.” Faron comments. Yep, sounds about right. “Perhaps I shall leave you some space. The more you rest, the quicker you will be healed, boy.”

He blinks his eyes back open, giving the Water Dragon a slight smile. “...Fair enough.”

“I’m sure Lanayru will come by soon. When you’re better, he can pick you up and take you back to your little friend…Hyrule.”

His heart flutters at her mention of the Traveler. Magic exhaustion, he remembers. Rulie has never been out for more than a couple days…he should be waking up soon, right? I hope he’s okay.

“How- how long will this take?” he mumbles. “...To heal, I mean.”

“I’ll be straight with you, Four, the wounds you sustained were severe. Your friend’s healing saved your life, but I estimate several more days before you can be up and around.”

Well, that’s just great. Looks like he won’t be leaving this basin anytime soon.

At least Faron and Machi are decent company. He’s heard scary stories about Faron and her threats to eat almost anything, but at this point she clearly won’t do it to him. The Kikwis, weird as they are, seem quite nice. And he can still hope for visits, from one of his brothers or Lanayru.

“...Okay,” he answers, nodding slowly. He can hear Machi playing in the water, still by his side, while Faron grins.

“You’re a strong hero, little Link,” she assures him. “I have faith in you. Now…I’ll be right back, boy. Please let yourself rest, and don’t go anywhere.”

Four chuckles at her comment. “I won’t, thanks.”

Unless someone comes to take him from the basin, he is most definitely not going anywhere.

He waits for her to disappear out of sight, listening to the sound of her diving underwater, before letting out a long sigh. The lingering tiredness is beginning to win over once again…

You’re safe now. You’re okay.

As he slowly drifts off, he pictures the day when he can finally reunite with Hyrule and the others.

[innielove]

GUYS I FINALLY HAVE A JOB!!!! 😭😭😭😭

[mihari]

More gratuitous screenshots because this game's aesthetics fuck.

[amitmaantech]

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[graphicera1]

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[enlighteningcareers]

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Graphic Era University Dehradun

The Graphic Era Institute of Technology (GEIT) was founded in 1996 and is now known as Graphic Era Deemed to be University. The Government of India, the Ministry of Human Resource Development, and the AICTE have all given their approval for The Graphic Era University Dehradun.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

It's wild that the whole global trend of gay-focused happy ending romance shows and movies has only been going on for *looks at calendar* a measly ten years!

Just ten years ago. 2014. That's when you get the discovery of a market for queer romance series and films with happy endings. That year the OG Love Sick in Thailand came out. Brazil puts out The Way He Looks, which deserves so much more credit than it receives for influencing the aeshtetics of the genre. Looking premieres on HBO, and despite low ratings, it's an important touchstone. South Korea has the darker Night Flight. And, despite Nickelodeon’s censorship and shifting the program from tv to its website, the Legend of Korra confirms Korrasami in its season finale.

The next year, in 2015, we get Love Sick season 2, and China, pre-censorship laws has a few options: Happy Together (not the Wong Kar Wai one lol), Mr. X and I, and Falling In Love with a Rival. Canada, premieres Schitt's Creek. In the US, Steven Universe reveals Garnet as a romantic fusion between two female characters, and will proceed to just be so sapphic. Norwegian web series Skam premieres and sets up a gay protagonist for its third season, which will drop in 2016 and entirely change the global media landscape.

Then, 2016! This is the MOMENT. That aforementioned Skam season happens. Japan puts out the film version of Ossan's Love and anime series Yuri!!! on Ice. China has the impactful Addicted Heroine, which directly leads to increased censorship. The US has Moonlight come out and take home the Oscar. In Thailand, GMMTV enters the BL game and Thai BL explodes: Puppy Honey, SOTUS, Water Boyy, Make It Right, plus, the Thai Gay OK Bangkok, which, like its influence, Looking, is more in the queer tradition but introduces two dramatically important directors to the Thai BL industry, Aof and Jojo.

By 2017, Taiwan enters the game with its History series. Korea’s BL industry actually kicks off with Method and Long Time No See. Thailand’s got too many BLs to mention. Call Me By Your Name, though not a happy ending, makes a big splash that will send ripples through the whole genre, and God's Own Country offers a gruff counter-argument to problematic age differences and twink obsessions. This is also the year of Netflix reboot of One Day At a Time bringing some wlw to the screen, and the Disney Channel has a main character come out as ‘gay’ on Andi Mack ( I’m am ready to throw fists with anyone who thinks the Disney Channel aesthetic isn’t a part of current queer culture). And I'd be remiss not to mention the influential cult-following of chaotic web-series The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo: "Sometimes things that are expensive...are worse."

All this happened, and we hadn’t even gotten to Love, Simon, Elite, or ITSAY, yet.

Prior to all this there are some major precursors some of which signaled and primed a receptive market, others influenced the people who'd go on to create the QLs. Most significantly you have Glee, and its ending really makes way for the new era that can center gay young people in a world where queerness, due to easy access to digital information, is less novel to the characters. And the QL book and graphic novel landscape was way ahead of the television and film industries, directly creating many of the stories that the latter industries used.

There's plenty of the traditional queer media content (tragic melodramas and independent camp comedies) going on prior to and alongside QL, and there are some outlying queer romance films with happy endings that precede the era but feel very much akin to QL genre tropes and goals (Saving Face, The Wedding Banquet, Big Eden, Maurice, My Beautiful Launderette, and Weekend). I don't mean to suggest that everything I’ve listed ought to be categorized as QL.

Rather, I want to point out how all of these new-era queer romance works are in a big queer global conversation together, in the creation of a new contemporary genre, a genre that has more capacity and thematic interest to include digital technology and normalize cross-cultural relationships than other genres (there's a reason fansubs and web platforms are so easily accepted and integrated to the proliferation genre).

You're not too late to be part of the conversation. Imagine being alive in the 1960s and 70s and participating in the blossoming of the sci-fi genre. That flowering is where gay romance sits now. Join the party.

[blossom-hwa]

a very fine line, indeed [1] | c.bg

pairing: Beomgyu x fem!reader genre:  fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, regency era!au, nobility!au warnings: attempted assault, mentions of abuse, cursing, period typical misogyny word count: 6.3k notes:  — updates every M/W/F at 8pm EST until the series finishes — assault/abuse scenes are not graphic, but please heed the warnings and let me know if any of it is romanticized or just written in poor taste--I assure you I did not mean it, and I will fix anything needed. — inspiration taken from an amalgamation of different bridgerton stories - let me know what easter eggs you find! — story takes place in the same universe as my duke!yeonjun and earl!taehyun fics - check out the link to the series below for some more easter eggs :) In a society where it only takes a year for a young woman in search of a husband to be considered out of season, it is no wonder that by your third year out, you are desperate to marry. Known as one of the beauties of the ton, such a task should not be difficult for you—but with an absent father, no dowry, and a reputation centered around your inability to keep your mouth shut around one certain Beomgyu Choi, your prospects are more limited than you’d like. While you cannot recover your family or your wealth, however, the one thing you can try to control is your reputation. So when the third season rolls around, you resolve to keep your distance from Beomgyu Choi, your childhood enemy, and the man you hate most in the world. Enter Beomgyu Choi, second son of the Kensington Viscountcy, one of the most eligible bachelors in the ton. His older brother, cousin, and good friend have all recently married, leaving the mamas to salivate at his doorstep for the chance of marrying one of their daughters to him. When Beomgyu walks in on a particularly traumatizing moment between you and one of the most unsavory men in the ton and learns of your desperation to marry, despite your history of enmity, he proposes you a devious deal—to pretend to court you. It seems like a winning situation for both of you—more gentlemen will take notice of you, enhancing your prospects, and he will have the ton’s mamas off his back—and so, despite your misgivings, you agree. With you hell bent on marriage and Beomgyu completely indifferent to the concept, even independent of your hatred for each other, it seems unlikely that any sort of true affection will bloom. But as you begrudgingly put aside your differences to spend more and more time in one another’s company, and as you grow to know each other beyond your ill-conceived preconceptions from childhood, you begin to realize that perhaps you two have more in common than you had once thought. And as your faked acquaintanceship becomes more truth than fiction, a friendship beginning to bloom most unexpectedly— Perhaps you no longer need to convince the ton of the veracity of your courtship, because anyone with eyes can see that it is true.  Part 1 >> Part 2

Series Masterlist | TXT Masterlist

By the end of the night, you think you might murder someone.

It’s not the party’s fault. Lady Arina Park always hosts the first ball of the season, and in the three years you’ve attended them, not once has it ever been a disappointment. Her taste in decoration always sets the tone for the months to follow, and she is the most wonderful hostess—crotchety, kind, and always brimming with wisdom to impart. 

She might be one of your favorite people in the ton. 

Unfortunately, you cannot only talk to one person the entire night, and given your own reputation, you’re not sure you even have the social right to speak to her this season. See, it was never the party that was the problem. 

It is the fact that you have attended now three times in three different years, each without a husband. 

This is a fact that seems to dog you everywhere you go. Beautiful, sharp-tongued Miss L/N is going yet another season without a man on her arm—or at least a serious man on her arm. Never mind that you have had two proposals, both of which you turned down quietly and did not announce out of sympathy for the man’s reputation. You might be on your third season and desperate, but you rather think you’d prefer to become a spinster than marry either of those who asked for your hand. 

Lord Kierston was nice enough, if absentminded. You genuinely might have said yes to him if not for two things—his rotten breath (you have no idea what he could be eating to have such horrid breath all the time), and the fact that he is over the age of forty. 

You are barely one and twenty. And while there have been married couples with greater age gaps than that, you wonder if it is truly too much to hope to find someone nearer your age.

As for Mr. Thompson…he wasn’t even nice. He was rude, and arrogant, and during his proposal blatantly said that you would have to accept him as with your lack of dowry and snide personality, you had no choices elsewhere. All facts for certain—your dowry is nonexistent, your character is not one that endears many to you, and at the time, no other men were seriously courting you so it was true you had no other options. But you could still be a spinster, you let him know. And you would far rather be old and unmarried than tied to a man such as he. 

He looked almost murderous when you said that, which was why you’d excused yourself quickly after. You may consider yourself cleverer than most, but you are no fool. You thank your few lucky stars that your family left for the country just a few days later at the end of the season and you haven’t seen him since. 

But now you are back in town, with a fresh new crop of debutantes to outshine your wilting, rotten personality, a father trying to drum up business abroad, an evil stepmother breathing down your neck, and possibly a Mr. Thompson to run into. Not to mention Lady Whistledown with her peacock feather pen and watchful monocled eye, carefully waiting to elaborate on your futile prospects with her sharp-tongued words. 

Not that you know if she uses a peacock feather pen or a monocle. As far as your knowledge stretches, no one in the entire ton save the writer herself knows who she is. But you’ve always imagined her with such things. Ridiculous to the max. It makes it much easier not to strangle someone after you read her words about you. 

God, you’d care so much less about her gossip column if she wasn’t so damn good at writing it. 

You wish you were still in the country. Lady Whistledown wouldn’t see you there, and her gossip column would never reach your home. In fact, the only reason you’re certain she isn’t part of your sparse circle is that your spat with the younger Lord Choi at the garden party last year took at least two weeks to be broadcast in London after you came back for the season. Someone had to feed her the information before she could issue it, including your now infamous quote about how you’d like to slit his throat with his own letter opener. 

Your stepmother yelled at you for hours over it. You were sentenced to a week of nonstop chores and none of the few servants still in your family’s employ were allowed to help. Yet at the end of the day, Lord Choi the Younger is a menace to you and to society, and so you privately still stand by your comment. 

Lord Choi the Younger. Mr. Choi, when his brother is in the room. Annoyance. Menace. The devil in disguise. All apt nicknames by which to call Beomgyu Choi, one of the most annoying people you’ve ever met. Which, unfortunately, brings it all back to here and now, because apparently he is in attendance at tonight’s party. 

And hence why by the end of the evening, you might be locked up in jail for murder. 

Last season after the horrible garden party, you took very, very great care not to end up in the same room as the younger Lord Choi. For the most part, you succeeded. You couldn’t always avoid him—the ton is only so large—but the few times you had to come face to face with him you managed at least one minute of civil conversation before it turned into thinly-veiled verbal sparring that you thankfully had the self-control to bow out of sooner rather than later. But apparently people found your little spats amusing. A source of entertainment. And Lady Whistledown has remarked more than once since then that it would certainly liven up the endless parade of balls and parties to see a showdown between you and Mr. Choi once more. 

You’ve been at this ball for hardly two hours and already almost everyone who’s spoken to you tonight—even Lady Arina Park!—has found some sly way to allude to a possible catfight between you and Mr. Choi to bring down the house. And unfortunately, experience tells you that in the heat of the moment, you care about getting the last word in with Mr. Choi far more than you care about your precarious reputation. 

You do so hate to disappoint the ton, about as much as you love it when your grievances are aired in public via the Whistledown gossip column. And it does so truly break your heart not to be the sole source of entertainment at Lady Park’s annual ball. But this is your third season out and you need to be married soon, so when you see the man himself wearing that annoyingly bright smile and surrounded by an annoying number of young girls and their mothers, you make the first excuse you can to duck out of the ballroom and make a beeline for the gardens, where you find yourself in sudden silence. 

Sudden, but not altogether unwelcome. The night air feels comforting on your face, wind breezing softly against your skin. You hadn’t realized how hot the ballroom was until you came out here. You settle on one of the benches in the garden and fan yourself with a hand, letting the cool air bring you back to the moment. No one else is out here as far as you can tell. You can relax, if only for a moment.

For a few minutes you just sit in the moonlight, your face tilted to the sky, letting the cool air kiss your cheeks. It would be lovely to just stay out here all night, you think. Away from the people, away from the stares, away from the crushing anxiety that no one will ever want to marry you and you’ll have to live at home with your horrible stepmother forever—

A branch snaps. Your eyes fly open. And all of the anxiety returns, with a healthy dose of fear, when you see Mr. Thompson looking at you from the other side of the garden. 

For a long moment you just stand there. Looking at each other. All of the night’s beauty has been forgotten, its comforting silence turned threatening in light of the knowledge that you are a young, unmarried woman alone with a man in a garden. 

Scandals have been made out of less. 

“Mr. Thompson,” you say in as flat a tone as possible. “I apologize. I was just leaving.”

“Now don’t leave on my account, Miss L/N.” His mouth twists in what looks more like a sneer than a smile and he takes a step toward you. You take a step back. “It is lovely to see you after a summer away. Your beauty hasn’t diminished a bit with your age.”

You almost snort. Exactly how much does a person change in one summer? “Apologies if I don’t quite take your compliment, Mr. Thompson. I was not under the impression we were on speaking terms after last season.”

“We never spoke again because you left for the country.” That sneer-smile grows wide and you start calculating how much of a head start you’d need to flee into the ballroom before he caught you. “If it were up to me, I would have proposed again, after you had had the time to consider it.”

This time, you do snort. “With all due respect, sir, after an entire summer to think about it, my answer remains the same.” You still your features into a cold mask and pray, even with the sinking feeling of dread in your chest, that he will go away. “I will never marry you, Mr. Thompson. As I aptly put during your first proposal, I would rather become a spinster than entertain the thought.”

His eyebrows draw in. You’d think the sight was comical if his eyes didn’t glint with menace under the moon. “Do you really think yourself better than me?” he snarls. “You should be thanking me now, for offering you this second chance.”

You laugh incredulously. “Thanking you? For what?”

“I’m your last hope.” He advances so quickly you almost trip on the hem of your dress as you stumble backward. You try to hide the panic rising in your throat as you glance at the house—still full of light, still full of gaiety while you’re trapped outside by the night and this man. “No one wants you, Miss L/N.” He lunges forward and you gasp, his hands uncomfortably tight around your wrists. “Not a single one.”

“Let go of me,” you snarl. “Let go of me—get off me—”

“Not—” He grunts as you stomp on his foot, but doesn’t let go. “Not until I have what I want—”

You manage to free an arm and before you can think, your fist careens through the air straight into his face. 

For a long moment you just stand there, barely able to breathe, the thump of Mr. Thompson’s body falling to the ground playing over and over in your mind. Your heart is pounding and your breath is coming out in short gasps and your fist throbs with pain. A sort of buzzing sound fills your ears. The world starts blurring before you and vaguely you wonder if it’s just the night, or if you’re about to fall. 

“Miss L/N. Miss L/N!”

The sound of your name from a familiar voice breaks through the buzz and you blink, coming back to earth. It takes a moment for you to reassess the situation. 

Mr. Thompson is still on the ground. 

It does not look like he will be getting up soon. 

You are still physically unhurt. 

And there is a new third person in the garden with you. 

Oh, God. You resist the urge to bury your face in your throbbing hands. Not only did Mr. Thompson try to assault you, you also knocked him out with your own fist, and someone caught the two of you in the garden just after it happened. Or maybe even before. Maybe they saw it, saw everything—how much did they see? How badly will your reputation be ruined beyond what is already in tatters?

A hysterical laugh builds in your chest. All that comes out is a strangled whimper. You’ll never be married once Whistledown gets her hands on this. No matter that Mr. Thompson didn’t succeed in whatever he planned to do with you. All that matters is that you were alone with him in a garden at the first damn ball of the season and someone saw you.

Things couldn’t get any worse than this. 

“Miss L/N.” The familiar voice says your name again, this time accompanied by a cautious hand on your shoulder. You flinch viscerally but it doesn’t leave. “Miss L/N,” it repeats, considerably lower than before. 

You shut your eyes hard. Open them. You try to take a breath and only just manage to stifle a strangled half-gasp before it leaves your throat. You’ll have to face your fate at some point when you beg for this person not to immediately spread this juicy piece of gossip to every person in the ballroom. With heaven’s mercy, they’ll take pity on your situation and leave some details out of the story. Or at least not embellish what they already saw. Praying silently to the hopefully-merciful heavens, you slowly turn around. 

And then you curse out loud. 

“What in God’s bloody name—”

You were wrong when you thought things couldn’t get any worse, because the man standing before you is Beomgyu Choi. 

The heavens must be having a good damn laugh at you right now. 

. . . . .

After what just happened, Beomgyu is honestly surprised that the first thing to come out of your mouth upon seeing him is a curse. Maybe he should be thankful, though. This probably means that you’ll come out of this all right. 

“Goodness,” he says as genially as he can, given your outburst. “I would have asked if you were all right, but based on your reaction to seeing me, I suppose you are just fine.”

“Mr. Choi.” You look and sound vaguely sick. Beomgyu gathers that you would rather be anywhere than here. “Apologies. I did not realize it was you.”

“I gathered about as much.” Now that he knows you’re fine, or at least standing upright, he steps forward to check on Mr. Thompson. Thankfully and regrettably, the man still has a pulse. Beomgyu wouldn’t purposely wish death on anyone, but if he had to choose one person in the entire ton he wouldn’t mind not seeing for the rest of his life, Mr. Thompson would certainly be one of the top contenders for the position. He looks back up at you. “Pray tell, Miss L/N, what is your first made of? Pure steel? You’ve knocked the poor man out.”

You look to be grinding your teeth even as you speak. “I had no intention—”

“I am not chastising you, my lady.” He smirks. “In fact, I must say I’m quite impressed.” Then he squints. “You’re not about to swoon, are you?”

A long silence hangs in the air before you mete out a very measured reply. “I am not going to swoon, Mr. Choi. And the next time you decide to say something just as inane, take very good care, or you might find yourself in the grass next to Mr. Thompson as well.”

He lifts his hands in surrender with a laugh. God, he might hate you and you might hate him, but it really is so much fun to spar with you like this. “A jest, my lady. I thought simply to lighten the air.”

You open your mouth to reply, then close it. Beomgyu watches in amusement as you close your eyes for a good few seconds—ten, if he’s counting correctly—before taking a deep breath. Good God, you really are making some strong effort to rein yourself in this season. “With all due respect, my lord, what are you doing out here?” you finally ask. 

Beomgyu raises an eyebrow. “I might ask you the same question.”

“You were the one who walked in on a private disagreement,” you snap. “If anyone should be asking questions, it should be me.”

“It didn’t look like a private disagreement as much as an entire physical altercation,” Beomgyu retorts. 

He expects a rapid-fire reply from you just as he always has, but instead you blanch. Your lips suddenly look too pale, entirely drained of color, and your eyes are fixed on Mr. Thompson’s prone body. He stands up. “Miss L/N?” he says quietly, slowly stepping toward you. “Are you all right?”

“I—” You turn to him but it doesn’t look like you see him. “Don’t tell anybody,” you whisper. Your breaths have grown shorter, more rapid, and he bites back a curse. You look like you’re going into shock again. “Please. I can’t—if Whistledown—if people know what he did—what he tried to do—”

What he tried to do?

Well, clearly now is not the right time to ask, and it isn’t that difficult to put the pieces together anyway from what little he saw—Mr. Thompson grabbing you, you punching him, your current shock. If Mr. Thompson was awake he might yet punch him again but he isn’t, so Beomgyu focuses on you.

“Miss L/N.” He gently puts his hands on your shoulders. Something in your eyes seems to focus and internally, he sighs with relief. “I will not tell anyone what I saw today in the garden. Not a soul.” He takes one hand off your shoulder to place it over his heart. “On my honor, I swear it.”

Something in his words must have rung clear. Your breaths begin to slow, and you manage to nod. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It’s somewhat strange, comforting his sworn enemy since childhood, but oddly enough he isn’t too conflicted. Even if you spend most of your time annoying Beomgyu out of his boots, you’re a person too, and clearly Mr. Thompson wasn’t doing anything good in this garden. If anything, Beomgyu is a man, and he knows what the other entitled men of the ton sometimes do. No woman—no person—deserves to be subject to their horrific plans. Not a single one. He keeps his voice as gentle as he can as he leads you to a nearby bench. “Will you tell me what happened?”

He stays quiet as you mumble out a vague summary of the altercation. That Mr. Thompson had proposed last season and acted an absolute arse about it, that you thought you’d seen the last of him but he showed up in the garden when you left the ballroom for some air (Beomgyu saw you leaving just as he entered so he gathers he had something to do with your quest for air, but he bites his tongue just this once). That he had proposed—if it could even be called that—a second time, and when you repeated your original sentiments, he grabbed you by the arms and told you to be grateful. 

And then you punched him. 

Beomgyu nods slowly at the conclusion of your story. “First of all, I must apologize. Being the recipient of a proposal from Mr. Thompson could be nothing short of traumatic.”

For the first time that evening, the ghost of a smile flutters across your lips. It’s a very nice smile. You have always been beautiful—even Beomgyu will admit that—but you’ve never directed a smile at him like this. Likely because you’re always scowling at him instead. Which, given your history, is fair enough, but that doesn’t mean this still isn’t nice. 

“There is a reason I turned him down,” you mutter. “I may need to be married, but I still have my pride.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “You need to be married?”

You fix him with a dead stare. “Mr. Choi, I am not exaggerating when I say that if I don’t marry this season, I will go insane.”

Beomgyu blinks. “…Not even a little bit?”

You look away with a loud sigh, muttering something under your breath. Beomgyu doesn’t hear all of it but he does catch something about three seasons and hopeless and men.

He chooses to focus on the first bit, because he gets the feeling that the last two wouldn’t end up being particularly complimentary to him or his kind. “Three seasons?”

You give him possibly the worst stink eye of anyone he’s ever met. “Yes, Mr. Choi. This is my third season out. If I am not married by the end of it I may as well be a spinster, and to be a spinster in my stepmother’s home is not a fate I wish upon anyone.” You look down, fiddling with the dance card around your wrist. “I need to get married,” you say again, though more to yourself than him this time. 

“You need it this badly, then,” he says, half amused, half surprised. “So much so that you would exit the ballroom the moment I entered for fear of confrontation.”

Annoyance flickers back into your eyes. It’s a much more familiar expression than the one you were just wearing, and thus infinitely more comfortable to deal with. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Mr. Choi, every time we come into contact in public, the resulting altercation makes its way into Whistledown and, as such, everyone else’s lives. Forgive me if I am only trying to pick up the remnants of my already shattered reputation.”

Beomgyu snorts. “You seem to think it my fault that your societal standing has plummeted so. Have you ever considered it a matter of your personality, instead?”

Low blow. He sees it in your face, in the way your eyes shutter as soon as the words leave his mouth. Immediately he wants to slap himself. He should apologize, but before he can open his mouth to do so, you’re replying through very obviously gritted teeth. “I have, actually.” You fix him with a hard stare that reminds him why half of the ton finds you terrifying. “I would be a poor judge of my own character if I did not realize that I am at least as responsible for our disagreements as you are.” A bitter laugh escapes your lips and curdles in the air. “And it is not as if the ton hasn’t been gossiping about my temperament for years.”

Beomgyu stays quiet. 

You let out a sigh. “I have answered quite enough of your questions, Mr. Choi, so I beg you now to answer mine. Why are you here?”

“Avoiding people.” He eyes the bright lights still coming from the ballroom. Distaste curl his lip. “Mamas, mostly. I suppose they are people.”

You don’t smile, but at least the tension in the air seems to lessen somewhat. 

“They seem to have gotten it into their minds that I intend to marry this season.” He shakes his head. “Just because all of my other friends are married doesn’t mean I intend to so soon as well.”

“I wasn’t aware that Mr. Huening was married.”

“Oh, so you do pay attention to me?” Beomgyu snickers at your outraged expression but continues before you can retort. “He has returned to his home country and won’t be back for the season. Ergo, I get attention I don’t necessarily covet.”

You snort. “I wasn’t aware there was any sort of attention you did not covet.”

Beomgyu sneers. “Couldn’t I say the same for you?”

“You—I can’t do this.” You stand up and Beomgyu can practically see the anger shimmering off you in waves. “I shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t be here, and I don’t want to be here when Mr. Thompson wakes and decides to take a pass at me again. It’s bad enough that the two of us are alone—” Your eyes widen in horror. “The two of us are alone.”

Beomgyu stands too. “I guarantee you,” he says lowly, “not a word of this will pass my lips to anyone in the ton.”

“Thank you, but that hardly matters.” You take a large step away from him. “You walked in on Mr. Thompson. Someone else could just as easily walk in on the two of us.” Your voice turns sardonic. “And I’m sure you have no wish to be married to the likes of me for the sake of propriety. Good night.”

Well, that’s certainly true. Just the thought of it makes Beomgyu shudder. If your current relationship is anything to go by, the two of you would never stop talking, never stop arguing…

Hm. 

Beomgyu’s eyes narrow as he watches your back disappear from the gardens. He would never want to marry you, it’s true. But if you’re having trouble attracting suitors, and he has too many women on his tail…

“Miss L/N.”

You turn around with a huff. “What is it now?”

Beomgyu grins. He might just be a genius. “I have a proposition for you.”

. . . . .

“This is a very, very bad idea,” you mutter. Then you look around sharply, because it wouldn’t do for anyone to think that you see hallucinations on top of all of your other less-than-choice characteristics. Even though you made sure to stray far from prying ears in this garden, it seems Lady Whistledown’s eyes are everywhere. 

An issue came out just this morning. You were relieved beyond belief that not a word about your and Mr. Choi’s accidental tryst in the garden was mentioned, though she did mention a terrible black eye and a murderous expression on Mr. Thompson when he reentered the ballroom. 

Mr. Choi had assured you a man such as he would never admit that a woman had bested him in a fight. You weren’t sure you believed him until you got the paper and Whistledown could only speculate about what had caused such a spectacular black eye—apparently Mr. Thompson had remained tight-lipped and snarly to anyone who dared ask. And as he hasn’t come banging on the door of your home demanding retribution, you can only conclude that he doesn’t plan to.

All the better for you. 

Fortunately, beyond some other vague mutterings about the other debutantes and who danced with who and who hogged all the lemonade, that was all that was said about Lady Park’s ball. Not a word about you. Not a word about Mr. Choi. 

Not a word about the idiotic deal he proposed as you were trying to leave the garden, and not a word about how you were idiotic enough to agree. 

You never quite believed yourself stupid. If you had anything to your name besides your beauty, you would say it is your wit (quite separate from your sharp tongue, which is not even close to a blessing). But when you woke up the morning after the ball, you really re-thought all of your previous conceptions of yourself, because what on earth possessed you to agree to the insane proposal Mr. Choi presented you that night?

Unfortunately, you know the answer to that too. 

Desperation. 

He’d presented his idea so reasonably. “You are searching for a husband. I want the attention of the ton’s mamas off of me,” he’d said, his tone so calm as words of madness left his tongue. “If I pretended to court you, men would take more heed of you, and the mamas would be discouraged from chasing after me.” He spread his arms in a show of his apparent genius. “Thus, the two of us might find some success in each of our respective endeavors.”

You could only gape harder the wider he smiled.

To your credit, you refused at first. “That is madness,” you had scoffed, turning back around. “Who in this ton would believe that the two of us are courting? Our arguments have become their source of entertainment. No one is going to buy that we now like each other enough to be civil in one another’s presence, let alone court.”

He was still undeterred, for whatever damn reason. So convinced it would work out by his own sheer force of will, like most men. “So we will come up with a believable cover story,” he’d replied easily, still with that unflappable smile on his lips. “Listen, Miss L/N. You are desperate, and I need an out. What do either of us have to lose from at least trying?”

Try as you might, you couldn’t cobble together an answer. Because he was right. You were desperate. You still are. If you have to live another year in your stepmother’s home, cleaning and gardening and playing maid while still maintaining appearances for the ton, you will go mad. Not mad enough to accept Mr. Thompson’s suit, but mad all the same. 

So you had agreed, and in the process lost a healthy chunk of your own self-respect. But you refused to spend another moment in the garden alone with him that night for fear of others seeing, so you two decided to meet at the outdoor musicale at the park a few days later to discuss the…logistics of this plan. There would be plenty of time for refreshment before and after the performance—plenty of time for the two of you to sneak away and find each other. 

So here you are, standing in the sunshine without the cover of night to hide all of your bad decisions. The longer you stand here, the more you’re beginning to believe this is all a major mistake.

But like Beomgyu has said multiple times, you’re desperate. You’ve tried being yourself for one season. You’ve tried reining in your sharp tongue for another. Neither worked. What’s the worst that can happen? You not being married for a third season in a row? Sick as the thought leaves you, it’s not as if you haven’t pondered the possibility many times already. 

Anyway, if your stepmother drives you too far up the wall, you’ll just have to run away. Find work as a governess somewhere, or a maid. Nothing could possibly be worse than her shrill voice ordering you to do this or that while she sits on her arse all day without contribution, your father still gone on some business call hundreds of miles away. Easier said than done, but a bad plan is better than no plan. Or so you hope.

In fairy tales, this is when the handsome prince is supposed to swoop in with a charming smile to come and save you, the poor damsel, from her distress. Unfortunately, you are not in a fairy tale, and all you have to save you is Mr. Choi and this ridiculous deal. 

What a world you live in.

“Miss L/N.”

You jerk your head around to see Mr. Choi pushing through some bushes a few feet away. A quick glance behind him confirms that no one has followed him here. “Mr. Choi,” you greet, already feeling your stomach roll. This is a terrible idea. “I wonder if it isn’t too much to hope that you have re-thought your ridiculous plan and intend to call it off now?”

He snorts. “Of course not. You should be on the floor, praising my genius.” Before you can reply with something scathing about his big head and nonexistent intellect, he continues. “Besides, no matter how ridiculous you think my idea is, you’re still here.”

How you wish you were here to just call it all off. Unfortunately, you are just as desperate as you were several days ago. “Unfortunately, my desperation is greater than my self-respect at the moment.” You look up at where he’s still standing in the grass. “Do you plan to sit?”

He sits on the green next to you, that stupid unflappable smile still on his face. You want to slap it off. “We need a cover story,” he begins. “You were right on that front. Which means at some point, one of us must have apologized first for the cake and dirt incidents from when we were children.”

“You apologized,” you say immediately. “You knocked my cake over first, ruined my new shoes, and it was my birthday.”

Mr. Choi scowls. “You threw dirt at me—”

You raise your voice over his. “It was my birthday, and you didn’t even apologize then—”

“I had dirt in my hair!”

“And my new shoes were ruined! Forever!”

The two of you glare at each other for a long, long moment. Then you stand abruptly. “Forget it,” you mutter, ready to head back to the party. “If we can’t even agree on this—”

“Neither of us apologized,” Mr. Choi snaps. “We just agreed to put it behind us.”

You turn around slowly. “…Fine.”

He gestures impatiently to the grass. You sit down again, resolutely not looking at him. Silence passes over the two of you for a long time before you force yourself to speak. “So how exactly did that happen?” you ask, voice rough. 

Slowly, the two of you hash out the details, though not without your fair share of sniping back and forth. After the last season, the two of you met at a gathering in the country. Having seen how badly Whistledown had written of you two, you agreed to put your old resentments behind you. You began exchanging tentative letters through the off-season and those letters increased in volume as time went on and you became friendlier. It was very surprising when Mr. Choi asked if he might court you at this season’s first ball, but you did not say no, and that brings you up to now. 

None of it is verifiable. That’s the only thing that makes you think this plan has even a shot at working. You two were at some gatherings in the country together, and ironically, because you did your absolute best to avoid him by hiding in different places, there are definitely some moments where the two of you could feasibly have been alone together and talked things out. As for the letters, they don’t actually exist, but no well-bred person would dare ask to see private correspondence. Hopefully. 

You work out a schedule for the next few months. He must call on you at some point, and you both agree you’ll need to be seen in public at least several times. At least one promenade every couple of weeks, and you will dance together at least once at each of the balls you both plan to attend. One call a week and if he cannot make it, he must send flowers. “A large bouquet,” you say, internally smirking at his expression. “You must act serious about it so that the other men will know they must outdo you.”

By the time you’ve argued and compromised and sniped it all out, the sun is almost directly overhead, and you need to return in time for the musicale to start. Mr. Choi stands and you don’t refuse his hand to help you up, a new grudging respect in your chest for him. If anything, he’s a good negotiator, not to mention a gentleman. “Shall we return to the musicale together, then?” he asks, offering his arm. 

You stare at him. “Already?”

He peers at you, eyes twinkling obnoxiously. “There’s no time like the present, hmm?”

While you were talking and snapping and quipping, you were able to ignore the voice in the back of your mind screaming that this is a terrible idea. But now as you look at his proffered arm, it suddenly seems to be all you can hear. 

Everything is going to go wrong. You’re going to make a gaffe because for all you can act nice and pretty around pleasant people, you cannot hold your tongue in front of people you dislike, Mr. Choi obviously included. Which means someone is going to get suspicious because of your mistakes. Which means people are going to start talking and eventually the truth is going to come out and you will be humiliated publicly more than ever before—because what idiot pretends to court their enemy in an effort to gain suitors—and bloody fucking hell, this was a mistake and you might as well run away right now—

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to yet.” Mr. Choi’s voice cuts through your spiraling thoughts, his words gentler than before as he lowers the arm. You hate that he can do that—can be going back and forth with you for hours without pause, then put it all on hold to respect you as a woman and a human being. It makes it really hard to hate him as much as you want to, and ironically makes you hate him even more. “I only thought it would at least explain our combined absence, in case anyone noticed.”

You swallow hard. “No, you’re right,” you mumble. “We should—we should start now. Sorry.”

Mr. Choi raises an eyebrow. “I think that’s the first time you’ve ever apologized to me.”

And there it is. You scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

He laughs aloud, a sound that would be quite pleasing if you didn’t want to punch him in the face so badly. “I am sure I won’t,” he replies, a bite beneath his genial tone that ironically soothes your anxiety. Yes, even if you two go through with this, nothing will actually change between the two of you. You’ll always be annoyances to one another. “Now, are you ready?”

You take his arm gingerly. “It doesn’t quite seem like I have another choice.”

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

[catmask]

genuine question – and i hope it doesn't come as weird – but how do get into...pokemon? </3

pokemon universe feels so big and there are so many games and i really like their designs – both for pokemons and trainers – making ocs in this setting would be so cool but i have no idea how to. begin!

could you give some advice?

ps leaving compliments for your comic and art in general!! i really like how your pieces are so colorful! gives the vibes of some small but cozy and fun town in a videogame..

no worries!! it seriously depends on what you are interested in - gamewise, region wise, and story wise.

heres what i can say. if you like typical top-down style pixel art rpg games where you solve tile puzzles and build a little team of monsters, any of the games before x and y is a good choice. platinum is a great introduction to the series because it doesn't baby you but is still decently difficult, heartgold/soulsilver are the 'coziest' games imo but may spoil you because of how much content there is, black/white and black/white 2 are the most story-driven of the games and bw2 is probably the longest play of all the games. emerald is also great, but its genuinely a hard game even as someone whos been a fan of the series for years. i would say to start with hgss because they're my favorites, but they're so good it might raise the bar too high for all the other games pixel-art games.

if you prefer 3D graphics, but still like the 'run around catching guys and solving tile puzzles', i think sun and moon are the best of the 3D games! the story is engaging and a little more modernized so that there are actual cut scenes, i think the pokemon available are cute and the region is really pretty. i thikn after that, x and y is pretty cute! the story is less strong in comparison to sun/moon. importantly; every game in the 3D era has a new type that was not present in the pixel art era - the fairy type, so if you want to learn the MODERN type chart and balances, the 3D games are where you'd need to start.

finally, if you're not a fan of the 'catch pokemon run around region' type games, pokemon has a LOT of really awesome spin off games. my favorites are as follows...

pokemon mystery dungeon explorers of sky. its the strongest story the pokemon company has ever written, and im a big fan of the mystery dungeon style gameplay.

pokemon ranger (any ranger game!) the story and graphics are cute, and it focuses on rescuing/rehabilitating pokemon more than capturing them. really lovely expansion of the pokemon universe.

pokemon go, because its free! so if you dont want to download a rom, or sink money into a new franchise, its an easy way to get into it.

pokemon snap - this was actually my very first pokemon game i ever played! (never owned it though heha) but there was just a remake for the switch, if you've got a switch that is. the game focuses on photographing pokemon in their natural habitat, and its really quite cute. slow paced and fun if you're not sure about battling yet.

finally... if you weren't looking to get into games at all, pokemon art + fan creations are personally my favorite things in the entire fandom! artists and writers and fangame devs are the people who hold this fandom up, engaging with their creations is a great and typically free way to involve yourself... im sorry this is so long, i hope this helps!! and ppl are free to add on to this hehe

[marybatson]

Billy Batson Week 2024 Use #billybatsonweek and #bb84week to participate!

This year marks the 84th anniversary of Billy Batson as Captain Marvel debuting in Whiz Comics #2, the first official cover-dated issue released February 1940. We're three years into this fan-run event - hopefully we'll have many more to come!

Day 1 ✦ August 11, 2024 Bearing the Bolt + Favorite Costume

Over the years, Captain Marvel has gone through many design changes depending on the era and artist. Let us know which of them you favor the most - or even come up with your own! Bearing the bolt can also mean many things aside from the aesthetic. Is the bolt a heavy thing to bear?

Day 2 ✦ August 12, 2024 On the Battlefield + Favorite Fight

From the Captain Marvel battle that made us hold our breath to the one that you think about constantly - which is your most memorable battlefield moment? Or when has Cap struggled and still persevered?

Day 3 ✦ August 13, 2024 The Rock of Eternity + At Home Base

The Rock of Eternity is a place of reverence as well as the place of Captain Marvel's origin. It's had its moments since the first appearance of it in comics, but most notably it is our hero's home base, and a place he can find refuge.

Day 4 ✦ August 14, 2024 The Perfect Pair + Favorite Duo

Captain Marvel (as well as Billy himself) have had many iconic team-ups over the years. His occasional one-on-one collaborations are among some of the most noteworthy of his career. Who is your favorite Captain Marvel partner, either from canon or from your most wanted dream team?

Day 5 ✦ August 15, 2024 Into the Elseworlds + Favorite AU

Captain Marvel's Elseworlds appearances always have impact, no matter the weight of his role. Pick one to explore, or perhaps an alternate universe of your own making.

Day 6 ✦ August 16, 2024 Domestic Bliss + Off-Duty Hours

We love every moment our hero is a hero, but even more so when Cap turns in for the day and Billy has his own time to shine. Whether it's an unassuming picnic day or a day-in-the-life of Billy Batson, the off-duty hours can be just as fulfilling.

Day 7 ✦ August 17, 2024 Holiest of Molies + Favorite Moment

Holy Moly! Can you pinpoint the very moment that Billy Batson compelled you the very first time? He's been on this planet for way over three-quarters of a century, so let's talk about his impact! This day can also be used as a free-for-all.

Although the prompts have been laid out, you are more than welcome to refer to previous years’ (2022, 2023) to choose ideas from! All prompts may also be interpreted in any way you like, however abstract. Any form of content is encouraged, from drawing, multi-media work, photos, graphics, writing, and anything else under the sun. There's no pre-requisites or rules to join except for keeping everything SFW. Posting late is more than acceptable, especially if you find these dates to be incompatible with your own schedule.

Feel free to post your writing in our collection. There is no closing date, so works may be posted beyond the event.

Remember to use the tags #billybatsonweek and #bb84week so everyone will be able to view your masterpieces! View all previous years' works here.

[pokeshippingweek]

POKESHIPPING WEEK 2024!

It's that time again, pokeshippers!

Last year, we announced that the format of Pokeshipping Week - one theme per day - was getting retired. We also said that we'd still put on a celebration of some kind going forward. Well, the time is here, and I'm happy to announce that we are planning a pokeshipping zine...next year!

If you'll forgive the bait-and-switch there, we have seriously talked about doing a zine, but time got away from us this summer. So, while we do hope to tackle that undertaking in 2025, for this year, we're planning what you might call an open Pokeshipping Week!

How does it work, you ask? Simple: over the years, you all have submitted a lot of potential themes for Pokeshipping Week. For every seven that got chosen each year, plenty were left behind. Well, now you can fill November 1 to 7 with art, fics, AMVs, GIFs, graphics, etc., all about our favorite Poke-couple, using any seven you'd like from the unused themes list.

Any and all contributions are welcome, and if they're tagged #pokeshipping week 2024, we'll reblog them here and on the main @pokeshipping blog. Besides Tumblr, we’ll keep our eyes out for the tag on Twitter and DeviantART for artwork, for fanfics on FF.Net and AO3, and for AMVs on YouTube (no NSFW, please).

The full list of unused themes (from years 2020 through 2023) is below the "Read More" break. Use, combine, and create as your heart desires, and we'll see you November 1!

A bad fight A day in the life  A never-ending road A ship full of shippers Alola sunset scene Amusement park Anime characters meet their game/manga counterparts Anniversary Art classes together/Drawing each other Ash and Misty in Sinnoh Ash’s hat Avatar: The Last Airbender AU Birthdays  Breakup Cameran Palace ball (as in Movie 8) Celebrating Celebrities Champions/Masters  Cheerleader Misty Childhood sweethearts Chocolate Comfort during a natural disaster Comforting each other Competition Confiding in one another Cooking disaster Costumes Criminal/Detective Crossover Crossover with game/manga-verse D&D Dealing with Team Rocket’s teasing in “A Scare in the Air” Dewpider/Araquanid Different hairstyle Disaster dates  Disney AU Double dating Elder years  Elders Ash and Misty Evolution Fairy tales/Fantasy AU Fankids Fireworks First day on the job Food Fortune-telling/foresight Game of Thrones AU Giving advice to a younger generation Grey hair Gym leader Ash/beginner Misty Halloween/horror/ghost story Hanahaki disease Handkerchief Happily Ever After/Fairy Tales Hiding Hogwarts AU Horizons Hot tub/Hot springs If Ash heard Misty’s Song If Ash or Misty weren’t from Kanto If Ash started his journey at 16 or older If Ash’s journey had ended after winning the Indigo League (in season 1) If Misty caught Lapras If one came from another region If their parents met If they didn’t meet on Ash’s first day In-universe Pokéshippers Intimacy Japanese-style confessional love letter JRPG AU (ie, Final Fantasy, Dragon Quest, Monster Hunter, etc.) Karaoke Ladybug and Chat Noir Last goodbyes Learning a different language Lost Pikachu Love Letter  Love triangle Lovers across the multiverse Lovestruck (if Ash acted like Brock) Meeting the parents/relatives Mewtwo Strikes Back alternate ending Misty and other Pokégirls discuss their loved ones together Misty meets Goh and Chloe Misty overcoming her fear of Bug-types Misty the coordinator Misty’s Bug-type phobia Mixtape/playlist  Mystery dungeon Nervous Ash  Never have I ever Other Pokemon games AU (Detective Pikachu/Pokemon Masters/etc) Out of their element  Overprotective Misty  Perspective of Oak Ranch Pokémon on their relationship Photo shoot Pirates Plot twist Pokemon daycare Pokémon Mystery Dungeon AU PokéNav communication/Video calling Possessed/evil Misty Pregnancy/Birth Pro-gamers Puberty Reappearance of Ash’s father and/or Misty’s parents Regency Era Romance  Return to Orange Islands Romeo and Juliet Sci-fi AU Scuba diving Secret identity/superhero AU Slow Slumber party Spies AU Stargazing Studio Ghibli AU Sunshine and Rain  Superhero AU Swimming lessons Sygna suits Tabletop RPG AU Taller (height differences)  Tauros ranchers Ash and Misty Time capsule Training together Umbrella Vacation Visiting Oak’s ranch  Water and electricity/water and fire What if Ash didn’t take Misty’s bike? Yoga together Z-ring/Mega Stone