#//aside fro- what the heck was that

[keeps-ache]

i love genres!! i do not know what they are but they're cool !!

[stories-from-the-shaded-moon]

Curse of a Family

The Champion didn’t make it a secret that he was Twilight’s successor. And the Rancher never ignored the signs. Wild was familiar with “Wolfie” the second he saw him. Heck, he yelled “Wolfie” when he first saw him. Twilight scoffed at such a simplistic name, but shook it off like water on his fur.

Twilight and Wolfie warmed up to him nicely. Wild knew exactly what he liked, the pumpkin soup he distributed on his first night told him that. He hummed peacefully with the first bite, the lingering sense of home on his mind.

The Champion didn’t make it a secret that he was the Hero of Twilight's successor, but a stinging in the back of the Rancher’s brain told him that something was wrong. How could he have known Wolfie? When did they meet?

Wild’s time seemed too far away for it to just be an older Twilight who aided him. Wild’s Hyrule was eons away from his. Every time the Rancher thought about it, the same red eye flashed behind his vision. And every time, he’d have to fight to not look at the uninjured eye of the Hero of Time. Was he also not able to pass on? What had happened to him? What had happened to Time?

Twilight heard himself try to growl and frowned. It became a habit while he was a wolf. Midna would pop out from his shadow or hop off of his back just to call him an idiot-

And, suddenly, his mood was better. Well, not too well, but well enough to untense his shoulders.

His teacher wasn’t able to pass on because he carried too many regrets. What regrets was he unable to let go?

His mind was split in half, one side on the ever growing mystery, the other still hung up on his red headed lost love. He looked up to the sky, that forever known loneliness creeping up his spine.

One thing he will always regret is not finding another way. He would have let Hyrule drown in Twilight for another five years if it meant that she could’ve stayed.

Was that it? Was that the regret that would suspend him between life and death?

He felt a hand slam his thigh down. The blue gloves made his eye twitch. “You’re going to make me dizzy.” He met the Captain’s eyes. “You alright?”

He moved his gaze back to the lively fire. Pumpkin soup simmered in the Champion’s pot. “M’ fine.”

The Rancher could see the Captain’s eyebrow raise in his periphery. His scarfed companion sighed. “At least don’t look dead inside if you’re going to lie about being ok.”

The Rancher glared into the bright blue of the Champion’s tunic before standing and making his way over to the pot.

He put on a smile when he saw his protège’s. He sat on his knees beside him, his curiosity chewing at his brain.

“Is there something you needed?” The words came like water out of the younger’s mouth. Twilight felt his ears perk up. Wild let a grin show. “You don’t hide it well, never have.”

Twilight accidentally let out a slight growl. The boy’s grin grew wider. “Ok, maybe I do wanna know something.”

“That is?”

“How was I able to stay behind?”

Wild’s hand stopped mid-stir. “How you…?”

“You said that you knew me…and Wolfie…before this adventure. I want to know how.” Wild met Twilight’s eyes.

“Can I even tell you that? Like, without altering time and stuff?”

“Maybe you told the me you know and I still came to help you,” Twilight shrugged, hoping his answer was enough.

Wild looked around, his lips pressed in a thin line. “Fine.” He sighed. “Where do I start?”

“Did I tell you anything? A reason I was there?” Wild’s eyebrow raised. “Aside from helping you.”

“Well,” Wild tapped his chin. “There was this long, elaborate story about it.”

“Can you tell me?”

“Can I?”

“Please.”

Wild sighed, abandoning his stirring all together. He fully turned to his predecessor. “Well, you told me that…” Wild began rapidly tapping his palm. “that you love a woman, but she had to leave you-“

Twilight sighed. Of course it’s her.

“But you really wanted to have a family. So you, uh, you said that you took advantage of someone because you knew that she loved you…?”

Twilight’s ears perked up, his frown growling worse. “Took advantage of…?” He could never see himself doing something like that. Why would he-

“You said that the worst part was…” Wild looked around as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping. “making the children with her. You said that you always imagined that it was Midna.” Wild picked at the grass under him. “You said that your regret wasn’t that you couldn’t stop Midna from leaving you, but that you had a family without her.”

After everything, he ended up back in his home in Ordon.

Wild was right, he did take advantage of Ilia no matter how he wanted to look at it. He didn’t love her. And he wanted and family, but not with her.

He wished that he could smile, to tell his son that he was proud of him. But every time he looked at him, it was just her.

He braced himself for the toothy smile his son would give him, his braces reflecting the sun above.

He had wrestled a goat and won that day. Crest had always wanted to be like his father. He always wanted to make his father proud.

But he was 16 now, old enough to see that the smiles were fake and forced.

But Link smiled at his son, his eyes betraying the rest of his face. “Atta boy!” Link pat his son on his back, and the boy lit up.

In the end when he was old and gray, his marriage didn’t last and his children chose their mother over him.

He withered away on his own, the beautiful sunset orange hair flashing behind his eyes.

She was his reason. But she was gone.

But that was okay because they’d meet in the afterlife, right? They’re soulmates! The goddesses must allow him to see her again, right?

He died alone, tears staining his wrinkled face.

~

The last thing his predecessor said before the gray wolf left the Hero of the Wild was, “Love can be the worst pain. One that leads to regret. Promise me you won’t succumb to such a fate as I have.”

But now, as he watches a child with bright, happy eyes pull that cursed sword. He couldn’t help but apologize for not keeping his promise.

The Calamity weighed on his life everywhere he went. It even brought him to an early grave.

But that was alright because it was over now. This family of heroes of Farore cursed to not be able to pass on at death. First the Hero of Time. Then, the Hero of Twilight. Now, him.

He cut the tie when he refused to have kids. No more will suffer in his wake.

[eihwaz-y-d]

Dragons in Human clothing

Part 1

Hi. As I said in the bio I'm also a fan of BBC Merlin / the Adventure of Merlin and I really like Dragons and so I did this. This story was inspired by two fanfiction that I read if I find them again I'll let you know the names. I will probably write this story here as a rough story and later will make a proper fic (with chapters that are logical rather than just ending a part if I don't want to write further and with a proper disclaimer and structure and everything.) but till than, I hope you all enjoy reading it like I enjoyed writing it!

Disclaimer : I do not know anything and I do what I want, it's a fantasy story.

Why does the prat and his knights never listen to him then he tells them not to do something, like going into the creepy cave just because there are rumors about magic. 

Alright, there is magic in this cave, Merlin could immediately tell but it's old and dormant. So freaking old and whatever this magic is, it's better left sleeping. Naturally they woke up whatever it was and it wasn't quite happy to be woken. 

There was a growling and roaring, something really deep in the belly of the cave started softly glowing and the walls started moving. Some ways closed, some new ways opened up and some stones rained from the ceiling, splitting up the group till Merlin was all alone. He could hear the knights calling for each other and just as Merlin wanted to call out for the other too, he heard something. A whisper, a plea to follow and Merlin did follow it. The next thing he remembers is standing in an open space much bigger than Kilgharrah cave under Camelot with a soft blue glowing stone plaque and a dragon skeleton curled around the stone. The stone looks like it once was bigger, the top part broken away and with some inscription on it. Merlin is drawn to it like a moth to the light. He never saw symbols like that but he still can read them like it was all plain English. He reaches for the glowing stone and the words, not unlike the dragon speak, are tumbling from his lips without a way of stopping. With the last word spoken, cold stone meets his hand and he feels he magic within bursting out, knocking him out. 

 

Slowly Merlin regains consciousness and promptly regrets it. 

Everything hurts. His head, his back, his fingertips and palm, heck, even his teeths hurt. Merlin hates waking up like this. 

It's dark, the open space with the glowing stone and the skeleton are gone. Maybe some falling stone hit him in the head and everything was just a dream but Merlin is never that lucky. Something did happen, the magic is quite awake now. 

Feeling around he tries to find a way out, the soft humming from the magic leads him easily but slowly out and to the others. He can hear the knights and Arthur before he sees them. 

Everyone made it out of the cave and no one was seriously hurt, except for Merlin. Merlin has yet to come out. Arthur thinks, The cave was strange, it separated everyone but leads also everyone out again with its opening and closing of ways, everyone expects Merlin. 

Behind him the knights are arguing or more likely Gawain is arguing with everyone else, while his other knights from the round table are silent. 

 " We need to go back, Merlin is still in there!"  shouts Gawain. And Kay shouted right back. 

" You  want to go back in? The cave is cursed! It's like a moving labyrinth in there, we are lucky to have made it all out alive!" 

" Not all! Merlin is still in there! We should-" 

Arthur has enough of it, he can't think with them arguing like that. 

" Enough! Gawain I understand your worries but going I blind will not help Merlin. We can't go in there without a safe way out. We need a plan-. '' 

Before he can say more, Merlin stumbles into the clearing. He looks worse for wear, tired and pale, his clothes have tears everywhere and are dirty with dust and something brownish red, what Arthur prays is not blood but mostly like is. He is swaying where he stands and blood is running from his hands. Aside from that, he is alive. Merlin looks from one knight to another till his gaze locks with Arthur's and the relief he is feeling is like a huge weight was lifted away till  Merlin opens his mouth and starts talking. Arthur nearly rolls his eyes. 

"Arthur, please listen to me the next time I say I've got a bad feeling about something." 

But before Arthur can say something, Merlin's eyes roll back in the back of his head and pass out. 

Lancelot is the first one to reach Merlin, Gawain hot on his heels, and Carefully examined his friend. 

" Sire, there is a nasty wound on the back of his head and his palms. I fear he needs Gaius or at least another physician." 

"Saddle the horse, if we hurry we can make it to the next village before dark, hopefully they have a physician there." 

Gawain and Lancelot are carefully cleaning and dressing up the wound and then they are on the way. 

There isn't in fact a physician in the next village. 

If they were to ride through the night, they would reach Camelot till noon. He could send someone forward to tell Gaius to prepare for the emergency, let the other horses and knights rest for some hours and then someone should share their horses with Merlin. Maybe it would be easier for the horses if the extra weight would be shared every few hours. Merlin really needs some medical attention. But as long as he doesn't get worse, Arthur thinks, there is no need to be fast and reckless, then they need to be careful and fast. It's just his luck that the physician apprentice, the one who would know how to treat the injured, is the one in need of a physician.

He sends Lamorak ahead. 

Merlin did not wake fully till they reached Camelot. 

On the way his temperature started to rise rapidly and he was murmuring and wimmering. Sometimes he would start to twitch and crying out in pain till consciousness pulled him under again. After that, Arthur took Merlin's limp form from Percival and held him till they arrived in Camelot. 

[dubitationis]

wpip-raham:

The air was positively charged. Bodies were packed in tight like sardines, filling each level of the coliseum. Chatter, laughter, jeering filled his ears and drowned out the rest of the world around. There was only this now, this fight. He didn’t recognize the names of the fighters, though he was sure he’d bumped into them at least once during his time in Ul’dah; hard to not after neigh on a decade living here. Still, it was sure to be a good fight. If the crowd gathered was any indication, the two were well known and clearly well regarded. Pip was glad to be here in either case. He’d managed to not blow his entire winnings from his most recent bout, which supplied him just enough gil for entry to the second level viewing ring-- standing room only. Luckily, he’d gotten here early enough to snag a spot on the railing where he could lean forward for even better viewing. Fight aside, it was nice to be back in the city—back ‘home’, though it wasn’t any longer. He resided at his employers estate now in the Goblet, which wasn’t far but felt far enough. Being here, amongst the rabble, surrounded by baked-brick and the smell of perspiring bodies…somehow, it just felt right. He was dressed comfortably, casually. Brown sandals, white sarouel trousers with brass-hued embroidery, a matching shrug which covered only the necessities and kept his midriff exposed for airflow. His blonde mane was tamed within a white and mole-brown turban, the leather visor pushed up.  He came equipped with a flask at his side, which he sipped from as his attention drifted to-and-fro. Until the fight began, the only sport to be had was people watching, and Ul’dah never did disappoint. Pip wondered who was here for who, and wished he’d had enough gil to place a bet. The folks nearest him mentioned something of a Roegadyn gladiator, who – according to them – was a shoo-in. Turning to find something else to catch his eye, he grumbles beneath his breath. “Shouldn’t’a bought that damn--..’ he cuts himself short, attention settling on a familiar form not far from him.

Some might’ve said there was such a thing as enough fighting and bloodshed in one’s life, and you’d have thought that after his more or less day to day was shanking others in the Coliseum or practicing doing so, he might have had enough of the place to not want to spend his free time there. In his case, though, that wasn’t true, at least based on how often he came to see fights for a reason that didn’t seem to be anything other than for the heck of it. Today was no exception. He’d had free time, some extra gil, and nothing better to do, so... Here he was, in a crowd all eager to see who would win the day—he himself eager to see who would win, too. That’s where the fun was, besides being in the ring himself. He didn’t quite go so far as to bet on who he thought the winner would be. Undoubtedly it would have added to the excitement of everything, but he couldn’t quite justify the risk of losing his hard-earned money on bad guesses. Maybe his guesses would’ve been more educated than those of some others, but all the same, misjudgements were all too likely. Oh, if he could have bet on himself, he would have, but that was different. That was him having control over the outcome with his own actions. Betting on someone else? He couldn’t control the performance of that someone else, and you just never knew. Better refrain, then. He knew he was likely to be the odd one out with those thoughts among the people he was now surrounded by, but what others did was their own business. Besides, when he was one of the fighters... Yeah, it was straight up flattering to have people bet on him. He wasn’t going to fault others for partaking in the betting, heh. Sah’a stretched his arms above his head as he waited for the fight to begin, mindful of the limited space he had to work with in the thick crowd. Sleeveless as his loose tunic was, he was hot all the same. Hard not to be with so many people all around him, but he’d lived here long enough to be mostly used to it. His customary bandana was soaking the sweat from his forehead, but the strands of hair escaping its confines glued to his face all the same. Business as usual, in other words. His arms came back down with a sigh and the Miqo’te blinked as he took stock of his surroundings again. Left, right his blue eyes scanned—then flicked to right again when something caught his attention. Or someone, rather. A familiar figure, all things considered, definitely one he recognized, and not one he could be entirely surprised to see. Still somewhat surprised, though, which prompted Sah’a to give a wave in the other’s direction before the Keeper turned to push and weave through the crowded bodies. As much as he managed to make the whole dance of dodging arms and elbows, knees and legs look easy, it wasn’t actually that easy, short as the distance was. But he made it to his destination, which was the side of a fellow Miqo’te, though this one with slitted pupils instead of his own round ones. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” Sah’a said with an easy grin by the way of a greeting as he squeezed to the railing next to his target, leaning an arm to it but body turned to his acquaintance. The griping of the person he’d pushed aside was ignored with the flick of one ear, his head instead tilting inquisitively at Pip. “Did you find better training dummies than those at the guild?” he teased.

[bokettochild]

About Legend having insane leg strenght: what if the reason he never brags about that is because he's embarassed about it? He thinks that pulverizing a boulder with a kick is either something everyone can do or too similar to a bunny. One day he and Four get dumped into a monster camp without their items or weapons and Legend takes desperate measures to ensure they don't die: anihilating the entire camp with only his legs. He is unironically and literally capable of killing someone with his /1

This ask references this post btw, so, check it out if you need context!

Honestly, I loved this so much! THANK YOU!!! But I am half asleep, so the cool stuff I saw in my head is being stinky and not comng out. I'm sorry, hope you like my half-asleep drabbl of Legend being weak as shit while simultaneously having the strongest kick out of the whole Chain XD

Legend hates being at Ordon.

It’s not that he hates the people; he’s used to country folk, he was raised around them, heck, his grandparents have the same strong twang in their voices that everyone in Twi’s village does! He loves the fresh air and the sounds of animals and the sight of growing things everywhere he looks.

But he hates looking around and seeing Twilight’s entire village (even the freaking kids!) wander around lifting things that probably equal his entire body weight!

Seriously, Malo (that was the terrifying toddler’s name, right? That’s what Twilight said when he introduced them all, right?) could lift up a small goat with ease, and he was an actual toddler!

What was Uli feeding her children that they turned out this strong? Were all the village women using it? How on earth was every person in all of Ordon fully capable of throwing Legend over their shoulder?

It hadn’t happened yet, but Legend was on guard because it was only so much time before someone figured out it was possible, and it wasn’t as if he could fight them off.

He wasn’t jealous, definitely not. Not even when he saw Twilight carrying a mother goat across the village with an easy stride as he brought the nanny back to her pen. When he buried his face in his arms and sighed it wasn’t because he was remembering how much he had to tug and pull to move a basket of apples, no, it was just because the mere thought of carrying goats for the foreseeable future made him tired. Definitely.

But this strength was just an Ordon thing, right? It was totally just something that was common in Ordon, and Legend took comfort in that as he sat on the front porch of Uli and Rusl’s house and helped with the mending.

Even their blankets were heavy, what the heck?

But then Sky walked past.

And Sky was carrying a barrel, an entire barrel. One that swished and clunked with the sounds of grain filling it, and if the small trail of spilled seed that followed after the hero meant anything, then that thing was full.

Okay, so Skyloftians were strong too, no big deal.

Big deal.

Their entire visit to Ordon, helping to hide away animals and supplies before a local monster band stole them, was spent with Legend trying desperately to not be jealous as he watched everyone from Wind to Time lift and carry things that he couldn’t even knock over if he pushed against them.

It wasn’t even that most of thing things were heavy, it was just... he was weak.

Uli’s gaze when she’d figured out the truth had been surprised, eyes blown wide with shock as she watched as Legend, who’d opted to help indoors since he knew working outside would lead to him being more a burden than an aid, struggled to lift buckets of water to fill the wash basin. Dark brown eyes had followed him as he’s left the bucket outdoors and stomped inside, hissing and wheezing under his breath as he moved his attention to his bag and grabbed one of his power bracelets.

“Hun,” Uli’s soft country twang caught his attention as the woman drew close, concern filling her warm gaze. “Are ya’ feelin’ alright?”

And reputation or no, Legend’s Gran would have his hide on a hitching-post if he even so much as dropped his manners. There was something about country folk that was so inherently polite and welcoming, that even the salty vet couldn’t help but return with the same manners that his Gran had pounded into his head since childhood.

“Yes, ma’am.” Crimson trailed up his neck to blossom across his cheeks and shoot up his ears. He tried to ignore that Uli had a baby on one hip and a bushel of food on the other, breath contained and relaxes as she stood there, no hint of strain in her face or body language. His fingers trailed along the clasp of his power bracelet, shame building inside as he shuffled his feet.

You just can’t walk away when lady’s talking to you, especially if she’s being all polite like and just makin’ sure you’re okay.

“Are you injured?” The farm-wife pressed. “You were huffy something huge with that there bucket.”

And Legend would like nothing more than to sink into the earth as he glances over the full bucket of water that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t lift. “I’m just not much of a farm-hand is all, ma’am. I’ll be right as rain in a tick, just needed to grab something I forgot.”

And while the look Uli gives him is a bright smile, he knows worry when he sees it peeking out of someone’s gaze. He tries to ignore that, instead turning back to the chores he’d been assigned and trying his hardest to ignore ethe fact that no one else was wearing power bracelets when they all came back for dinner that evening.

He’s not strong. So what? He can lift his sword well enough, and he can do most other things too when he wears the power bracelets.

Yes, he knows that Ravio warned him about not developing muscles if he relied on objects so much, but he’s never had time to work out or build any muscle mass, so when he needs it it’s a bit more important to just get his work done rather than hope he’ll develop it. He’s paying for that, and he knows it, but he can’t really help that he doesn’t have the time or space to really do anything about it.

Oh well, at least the others haven’t caught on.

Warriors hefts a huge rock over his shoulder and throws it, chuckling deep and loud as he smirks at the rancher. “Beat that!”

They’re clearing a road where an avalanche swept through and blocked off the main entrance to a local town. They’ve been at it for hours, and while Legend tries his hardest to be discreet by sticking to things he can actually lift, even if it does require his bracelets, the others have devolved into a contest to see who can throw stuff the furthest.

There’s nothing on the other side of the road except for the edge of a swamp, and even Legend has to admit that it’s ridiculously satisfying to hear each of the heavy stones go ‘plop’ as they land in the marsh.

Twilight smirks at the captain, all his sharp teeth on display as he hefts a rock that’s the size of Wild and easily bigger than half of the rest of the heroes. “Watch and learn, city boy.” Twilight grunts (well at least it took some effort) before throwing the boulder and watching with the rest of them as it soars through the air and lands with a dramatic ‘splosh’ in the middle of the swamp. Cheers erupt from the younger heroes, and a few even drop their own burdens to give a brief round of applause.

Warriors humphs shrewdly, gaze thin as he looks over at Twi, who only cocks a brow in challenge. “Anyone think they can beat that?”

Legend finds his gaze meeting Four’s swirling hazel, and they both quickly look away from the captain, both well aware that the biggest rocks they’ve lifted are maybe the sizes of their heads, and no where near the horrific loads that the taller heroes are tossing left and right.

“I’ll try!” Wild’s eyes are flashing as the kid clambers over the rock slide, eyes darting to and fro until they land on what has to be the biggest, most horrifically sized piece of rubble Legend has ever seen. The Champion beams, rolling his shoulders and cracking his knuckles briefly before taking the stone in both hands and lifting it over his head and throwing it.

The swam erupts in goop and several of their group yelp and have to dark back as smelly water sprinkles the edge of the path. Wild beams down from his perch on top of the pile, hands on his hips as he looks down at them. “Who dares challenge my strength?”

“How about you, Vet?” Warriors nudges him lightly, chuckling with a cocked brow. The man is just teasing, and he doesn’t mean any harm, but Legend finds himself irritated anyways. He doesn’t know what it is about Warriors, but the man gets under his skin entirely too easily.

“No thanks.” He grunts, hefting his own stone (so small in comparison) a bit higher and adjusting his grip as he walks over to the swamp.

Wild scrabbles around above, knocking stones aside and sending them rolling down towards the vet. Legend rolls his eyes, dodging quickly around a few and kicking some of the larger ones in the direction of the swamp.

He smiles to himself at the satisfying ‘plonk’ as each one hits the surface.

Four’s head aches and the next time they see Warriors they’re going to kick him in the shins.

The captain is good at planning, usually, but if his planning means that Four is waking up to stare around a vast room where people in red and black PJ suits are eating bananas because said plan went wrong, then they think they’re a bit justified in wanting to kick the captain.

They’d reach to rub their head, to adjust the headband that’s riding too low and letting their hair all hang in their eyes, but their hands are bound behind them, and they’re left huffing their breath and scrunching their nose in an effort to relive their irritation. Their mind is too wild to shake their head, but they let their eyes wander.

Legend’s violet gaze meets theirs, sharp fury bubbling below the surface as Legend sits across from them, hands bound behind him, a rope leading from his wrists to a hook in the wall that is definitely higher than either of the two of them can reach.

As unkind as it is, they breathe a sigh of relief to know they aren’t alone (even if being four people in one body technically means that they’re never alone as is). It’s...nice, having Legend around. They don’t know what it is, but the taller boy feels safe and that’s something that they, especially Red, fond comfort in.

But the fact that two of them are here means that Wars is getting both his shins kicked, fair is fair.

Legend squeaks in that harsh way he does when he’s angry, a poor and rather adorable attempt at a growl, but apparently, he’s unable to make any sort of guttural noise, so the squeak is the best he can do. “I am going to strangle Wars when we get back. Yiga? Seriously?”

They raise a brow. “Weren’t we fighting moblins?”

“And a Talus. Unless these guys have transformative rings, then someone messed up.” The vet grates out, but before he can try and unravel their situation any more, a masked face is shoved into the vets own, one of the pajama clad banana eater’s apparently trying to leer over the vet, breath strong and rank even behind his mask.

“So! The friends of the hero awake! You will call me Astorah! Leader of the Yiga and supreme priestess to Lord Ganon!”

“I’ll call you annoying and maybe alive if you let us go.” legend drawls, unimpressed. “Seriously lady, get your face of mine or I’ll knock it in.”

They smirk. Legend is as polite and well-mannered as can be around the country villages, but the minute he’s away from thick mountain drawls and country twang, the Vet becomes a sour and salty speaker who’s as likely to threaten you as o smile at you. It would almost be funny if they weren’t being held captive.

Astorah makes an indignant sound, hand shooting out to smack Legend across the face. The vet can’t do anything to stop it, and the blow sends his head swinging to the side, a faint grunt escaping as the self-declared priestess stands to her full height (she’s taller than either of them at any rate) and promptly orders her subordinates to see to it that the prisoners be brought to ‘the mountain’.

“The hero will be looking for his friends,” The pajama clad leader declares excitedly, hands rubbing together like a villain in a bad stage play. “So, let's help him out, shall we?”

The vet and smithy exchange a glance, each somewhat surprised at how... pathetic their opponent seems to be.

“Their screams should do the trick; all heroes listen to cries of help after all.” There’s a mad waver in her voice and the pitching is all wrong.

She’s delusional. Vio whispers, and the rest of them are inclined to agree.

Across from them, legend scowls as another red and black clad weirdo comes to grasp his binds, unhooking them from above as yet another does the same to Four.

Ideally, they would try and escape now, but legend only follows along slowly as Astorah leads them through the endless halls and up step after step, murmuring, laughing and shrieking loudly as she goes, hands fluttering and gestures erratic as Legend’s scowl grows more and more each minute.

It all seems rather pathetic, all thing considered, until another, larger, more intimidating individual stops them, voice harsh as it grates out something in a language neither hero can understand. Astorah protests and shrieks at the figure, but they disregard her and instead turn to the heroes.

“Put them back, screams echo within a cave far better than on a mountain top.”

Four’s stomach sinks. Being outside means being closer to escape, means finding the others easier and kicking Wars for landing the in a battle where two of their own had been captured by the enemy.

Legend seems to be of the same idea, his eyes flashing as he pulls at his bonds, tugging away from the guard holding onto him.

The oddly garbed enemy slaps him again, but Legend doesn’t seem to be affected, only pushing harder and biting towards the next hand that swings his way. Astorah pulls away with a light sob, shrieking when Legend’s teeth keep hold of her hand while the enemies around them erupt into action.

Fours unsure of what happens next, their head is still spinning, and quite honestly, they’re sure Hyrule will declare him concussed when they get back, but he does see blows being thrown Legend's way, blades being drawn as shouts echo around them.

There’s a dark of movement, and one of the enemies falls. Four stares in shock for half of a moment before turning their gaze to Legend, who, for all intents and purposes, looks half feral.

Blood stains the Vet’s bucked teeth and his hair swirls as he spins and ducks beneath blows. His hands are still bound tightly behind him, a rope trailing on the ground as Legend evades contact, yet somehow still manages to down another enemy.

Four would try and help, but their mind is spinning, their brain not yet up to date with what their eyes are seeing, that and they’re still bound themself, their arms are fastened behind them and they’re not even sure how Legend is managing to get blows in.

And the he sees.

The vet’s boot swings up to make contact with one of the jaws of the enemy.

Yiga. Wild had told them about them, the Yiga clan, people out for the hero’s blood. The word only comes to mind now, but they’d had to tune out of the battle for a brief moment to remember it. They’re brought back to it as the sound of an agonized scream breaks through the air, accompanied by the harsh snapping sound that Four knows too well from having broken their own bones.

Legend fights with his hands behind his back, kicking out like an angered horse and injuring any who step near. It’s impressive honestly, watching how blood spurts and bones crumple from the force of the vet’s blows, and all that without having use of his hands.

The Yiga back away, eventually leaving the room entirely as Legend squeaks out an angry Legend sound after them, before turning his attention to Four. Four says nothing, and it appear Legend thinks that that’s okay, because he darts towards the door they had been headed too, leading Four with nervous glances being thrown back over his shoulder every few minutes.

The mountain top they emerge onto is higher than Four expected, and they want nothing more than to snuggle down in the cozy parka Legend once leant him, but they have none of their items, and they’re lucky to even be out in one piece.

It takes a lot of work to climb down a mountain with their hands tied, but their fingers are too cold to make any good of the knots, and they manage in the end to climb down. They’re in the last legs when Four notices what looks like a small group of travelers below, and they can almost hear the singing of the Four Sword from them.

They’d dropped their blade in their battle, the very reason they were caught in the first blade. They’re not happy someone else touched it, but they are glad they didn’t leave it behind.

“Four,” Legend’s voice breaks them from their thoughts, and as they turn to face him, they find that Legend’s face is flushed, ears twitching nervously as he avoids their gaze. “Could you...not tell the others about all that?”

“About what?” They clamber down another stone, Legend still within sight as he trails down beside them.

“The...kicking.” Legend flushes. “I know you guys- most of them anyway- could have it handled better. I just, Wars is bad enough as is, I don’t need him bring up my lack of strength next time he decides he needs ammo to mess with me.” There’s a scowl on the vets features as he hops down and across and small hold in the mountain side. “I get it, I’m weak in comparison, they could probably have beheaded those guys with their bare hands, but mine fingers are shit o a good day and-”

Four doesn’t know if they actually figure something out or randomly spew words, but Legend’s eyes turn to them in surprise when the smithy stares down at him. “You do know most Hylia’s can’t do anything by kicking each other, right? I’m planning on kicking Wars when we get back, and the most it’ll do is bruise him.” Their voice is flat, but they let Viol take over, he always had the best endurance out of them when it came to rocky places anyways. “You kicked a man’s ribs in, Legend.”

And it’s not funny, it really isn’t, but they giggle, watching as Legend flushes before their eyes, and when the others trail up towards them, gazes curious and concerned, Four is laughing hysterically.

It could be the head wound, it could be Legend’s face, but the thought that Legend was able to kick a man's ribs in and hadn’t done so to any of them yet was both surprising and highly relieving for whatever reason, and it’s hilarious listening to Legend try and explain himself as the vet protests and struggles against the fact that apparently Hylian’s don’t usually have enough leg strength to kill people with.

Yes, people died back there. Yes, Four just watched them die. Maybe it’s Shadow’s influence, but Four can’t find that they're overly bothered. They are tired and injured and cold, and if they can laugh about something as ridiculous as Legend’s strange strength imbalance, then Hylia danggit they’re going to!

They never do kick Wars’ shins in, they giggle to hard at the thought that Legend doing so could actually break them, so they topple over before they can lift their feet.

[frodo-with-glasses]

I took this passage quite literally when I was little.

By that I mean I thought Galadriel was using her Super Cool Totally Sick Dude Elf Powers to play Peeping Tom on a hobbit and x-ray vision his clothes. Needless to say, I hated her. I hated her, I hated Lothlorien, I hated their stupid blindfolds and their stupid dwarf-hatred and their stupid trees (hobbits are supposed to sleep on the ground, dangit!), and most of all I hated their wicked, perverted, over-hyped, voyeuristic female dog of a Lady who got her kicks from looking at naked hobbits because no one dared to call her out.

I was already upset, of course. The Company had just lost Gandalf, and Frodo and Sam were both in pain from injuries, and the grandiose beauty of Lothlorien didn’t make me feel any better. It made me feel like I was unwanted there, like even my footsteps in the midst of that beauty would stain and taint it somehow, and that the residents looked down on me with scorn as something that didn’t belong. I wanted to get out as fast as I could. I wanted to be back in Hobbiton, where the people were simple and stupid, but kind and familiar. I wanted to be back in Rivendell, where the elves were less grand and beautiful and terrible, more warm, welcoming, and cheerful, and the touch of the skilled Healer could mend all woes up to a broken heart. Heck, I wanted to rush further on into more danger, even the unforgiving crags of Mordor, just to get away from the beautiful arrogance of Lothlorien.

A little of that initial revulsion still lingers, by the way, but it’s tempered by age and a calmer head, now.

Anyway, now that I’m older, I do understand what Sam was trying to express. It wasn’t the shame of physical nakedness that he felt, but of a sort of mental vulnerability. Galadriel could see his mind, even the deepest parts of his desires, and that was something uncomfortable and exposing in a way that Sam could only compare to losing all his clothes. It wasn’t his body that was laid bare before Galadriel, but his thoughts and heart and soul.

She issues him a test. She issues the entire Fellowship a test: Get what you most desire, or continue on, to whatever bitter end. This was another strike against her, in my mind. Who but someone in league with the Enemy would tempt even one member of the Fellowship to turn aside from their quest? Aragorn constantly defended Galadriel’s honor, but I sided with Boromir. She didn’t seem trustworthy. In fact, she almost seemed to be pushing the Fellowship to the brink of breaking.

But again, now that I’m older, I think I understand. Galadriel isn’t asking any questions that they aren’t already asking themselves.

The Fellowship has just met with the first major check of their quest. Gandalf is dead. Up until this point, they’ve fought orcs and wolves and snakes; they were pursued by Black Riders and swallowed alive by trees; but however hurt or frightened they might have been in the meantime, they all came out alive. Until now. Gandalf is dead. The whole Fellowship is realizing, suddenly, just how much this quest could cost them. They could be next. Their friends could be next. The very real, very mortal danger lies heavy on them. The question on all their minds is, “Is it worth it?”

Galadriel simply personifies this crisis. She gives their internal question a face and a voice. While they might try to ignore the dilemma and put it out of their minds, Galadriel forces it to the forefront, because if they will continue on, they must decide to do so fully, now, or their double-mindedness might later come back to break them.

I think the Mirror of Galadriel functions in much the same way. It only expounds upon and magnifies what the person looking into it is already thinking. Sam sees bad things happening in Hobbiton because he’s already looking back, thinking and worrying about home; Frodo sees the epic history of the Ring and the flaming Eye of Sauron because he’s already looking ahead, to the enormity of the task in front of him and the terror of the Enemy to whom he marches ever closer.

Galadriel says herself that the Mirror is a bad prophet; it shows “things that were, things that are, and things that may yet be”, and some things that never come to pass. That’s how it is with our worries, isn’t it? We think about things that happened, we fret about what’s happening now, and we worry about many imagined scenarios that may or may not ever be. Perhaps the Mirror isn’t meant to reveal the future, but the mind of the one looking into it. After all, it’s not a “Seeing Stone” or a “Fortune Pool”, but a Mirror. A mirror’s job is to reveal the person looking into them.

Through Galadriel, Tolkien takes the very human internal crisis on the minds of each member of the Fellowship and clothes it in a beautiful face and a deep, musical voice. He adds a touch of magic and wonder to the mix to keep us engaged and immersed in the fantastical nature of this world, even as he explores a very simple and mundane question that has, at one point or another, been close to all our own hearts and minds: “Is it worth it to go on?”

Galadriel is not a traitor. She’s not a temptress, or a conspirator, or even a guide. She is simply a mirror, reflecting the thoughts of the Fellowship back upon themselves, and it is how they respond to seeing themselves laid bare that reveals the integrity of who they really are.

Doesn’t mean I like her tho. I’d trade her to Sauron for Finrod and one (1) corn chip :-D

[opbackgrounds]

I would love it if you did a post on Brook and why he is awesome

Okay, so first things, like Robin, my love for Brook is in no way objective. I love music, and as a kid I took lessons for violin, piano, viola, and cello. I know how to sing an alto line and will listen to just about anything once, just to know what it sounds like. There are few things that give me more joy than learning about new artists or interments. I’m going to get into this more once we hit the Skypiea arc, but One Piece has a surprising musicality for a medium that doesn’t convey sound. Yes, the anime exists, but Oda has gone out of his way to make music an important part of a story that’s originally nothing but paper and ink, and I think that’s something that’s worth talking about.

More than that, I’ve been a nurse for almost ten years now, and I’ve worked that entire time in long term care. My entire career is based around taking care of old people, and in some ways Brook reminds me of some of the residents I’ve had, many of whom have passed on. 

Most shonen series are focused on characters who are kids. It makes sense—they’re the same age as the target audience, and therefore easy to relate to. Heck, the first six crew members are teenagers when they’re introduced, and I’m sure that was intentional on Oda’s part. 

But since then, each new Straw Hat Pirate has been an adult, with adult circumstances and problems. Brook, in particular, deals with trauma that is almost always unique to his stage of life. 

There is a specific type of grief that comes with aging that’s hard to describe unless you deal with it every day. It’s quieter, less noticeable to the point other people tend to forget about it unless you bring it up. Which in turn tends to exacerbate everyone around you, because why should you still be sad that your siblings died 15 years ago, or your last surviving friend just got diagnosed with cancer, or you’re not able to do the things you once enjoyed because of your arthritis? You’re old. That’s what happens to old people. 

(As an aside, I think we as a culture could stand to be nicer to the elderly, but that’s a topic for another day.)

Brook is an old man. He has literally died and come back to life and has outlived everyone he knew from Before. The tragedy of his story isn’t a punch in the gut like it is for a lot of One Piece flashbacks, but the slowly dawning horror when you realize that he was alone for fifty years. 

Fifty. Years. 

I wrote on my main once about how Brook’s backstory and induction into the crew is written differently than the other Straw Hats (https://creative-type.tumblr.com/post/166349846101/tragedy-without-melodrama). His flashback comes at the very end of Thriller Bark, after the climax of the story. Imagine getting Robin’s backstory after “I wanna live” or Nami’s after the walk to Arlong Park. It just doesn’t work. 

That’s because Brook’s flashback is about closure. The audience already knows his connection to Laboon. We already know how he came to be a skeleton. We already know why his ‘fro is so important to him. We know all there is to know, so Oda lets the Rumbar Pirates have their swan song with grace and dignity, allowing Brook to move seamlessly into his second chance at life. 

There are three Straw Hats that deal with the theme of loneliness in some way: Chopper, Robin, and Brook. Chopper was rejected, Robin persecuted, and Brook was physically isolated. There’s no doubting that sailing alone on a broken ship with nothing but the bones of his dead friends for company took its toll (I for one don’t think Brook’s completely sane) but despite struggling with his burden of loneliness the longest, Brook doesn’t have the angst Robin and Chopper suffered through during their main arcs. He has somehow remained unflinchingly, relentlessly positive and optimistic, despite having every reason not to be. He says it best during his introduction—He’s just glad to be alive.

And again, maybe it’s because I deal with the elderly almost every day, but that means something to me. Getting old isn’t for the faint of heart, and while Brook doesn’t have the same ailments that tend to plague most older people, he’s never going to be mistaken as a regular person. He’s a living, breathing (without lungs!) skeleton. He clings to the only bit of him that remains unchanged from his first life because he’s terrified of what might happen if he relinquishes that last bit of normalcy, but he doesn’t obsess about what he’s lost. Instead he tries new things, makes new friends, goes out on a new adventure. Brook isn’t content to just be alive, he wants to truly live. 

It’s this mindset that helps us understand his role in the crew. There is nothing about Brook that is necessary. He’s a swordsmen whose skills pale to Zoro’s. The Straw Hats made it 400 chapters without him, and they could have gone 400 more if they had to. His dream in no way affects the main plot. But the Straw Hat Pirates without Brook is like life without music. Sure, you can get by, but he makes the good times better and the difficult times a little bit easier to bear, both with his music and by simple virtue of who he is as a person. 

I want to be Brook when I’m 90 years old. Heck, I’d consider it a win if I could be half as positive as he is. I’m so thankful Oda decided to include him in his story, because I think kids need to be exposed to characters who aren’t aren’t their age. 

There’s so much more I could cover here, but this is getting pretty long so I’ll end by saying I think Brook’s powers are cool as hell and I laugh at his stupid puns more often than I should. To see his progression from Thriller Bark to the confidence he displayed during Whole Cake Island was a delight, and I hope he gets more time to shine in Wano. I mean what good is getting old if you don’t use your privilege to sass Emperors?

And, no, his panty jokes to bother me. Like I said, my love for Brook is irrational, and I think he’s hilarious. I bet he’s got a collection of them hidden away somewhere from fan girls, and you know what? Good for him. 

[hellzeldagirlsfanfic]

Cost of the Throne - Chapter 9

[Pervious] * [Next] * [First]

Something loud had woken her up.

(E/C) eyes stared at the lilac canopy trying to figure out what was loud noise was. When her mind fully woke, she realised that the noise was muffled voices arguing.

(Y/N) lifted herself from her bed and made her way to the drawing-room, where the muffle voices became a bit louder.

As she drew closer to the door leading out of her quarters, where the voices seemed to be coming from. One of those voices was very familiar to her. (Y/C) flew open the door to see her mother arguing with the knights guarding her quarters.

Guinevere and two knights seemed to be startled by her sudden appearances.

“Lady Rozeningale!” The knights exclaimed.

“(Y/N),” Guinevere whispered.

“Mother,” (Y/N) replied with a whispered of her own. Guinevere’s eyes held the same warmth that she always had for her daughter. “Lower your weapons,” She ordered the knights.

The knights did as they were ordered to and (Y/N) stepped aside to allow her mother into the room that used to be her’s.

Once the door was closed behind Guinevere, she spun around taking her daughter’s face into her hands.

“You grew up so much,” Guinevere said in awe.

Her mother hadn’t change that much in the little over a decade that she had been away. For a woman who was nearly fifty, (Y/N) noticed that Guinevere had little wrinkles on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Guinevere apologised, pulling her daughter out of her thoughts.

“Why are you apologising mother?” (Y/N) asked.

“This is all my fault,” Guinevere stated. “It’s because I didn’t destroy the letter you sent. Because of that, you were dragged back to Quebel,” She explained.

(Y/N) gave her mother a sad smile.

“No mother, it’s not your fault,” She told her. “I should of have more faith in Oswin’s power,”

Guinevere couldn’t say anything to her daughter just cry at the fact she didn’t blame her for the fact that the king found she was alive.

The younger woman took her mother into her arms. This cause the older woman to cry harder. (Y/N) just genteelly rocked her mother and hummed the lullaby that Guinevere used to sing to her when she would cry.

After a little bit of crying, Guinevere pushed away from her daughter. She shouldn’t be the one crying. Her daughter had just been kidnapped and forced back to a place that caused her so much pain and suffering.

“Oh, in names of the gods,” Guinevere sighed. “I am really pathetic,” She sniffled.

“No, no, no, mother,” (Y/N) tried to reassure her mother. “You’re not pathetic. You’re so strong, you’re one of the strongest people in my entire life. You’ve gone against grandfather’s orders, not marring who he told you to and becoming the king’s mistress. That takes a lot of courage. Courage that I don’t have,” She confessed.

“My dear,” Guinevere whispered. She reached a hand out to cup her daughter’s cheek. “You don’t have courage,” She echoed. “Oh (Y/N), you were able to run away from this place and live a life of your own making,” She told her daughter, gently stroking her cheek with her thumb.

(Y/N) shook her head in disagreement.

“If I truly had the courage I’ve would of stay and told Harald to go and fuck himself,” She cursed.

Guinevere gasped at her daughter’s language. As a child, (Y/N) would never utter a ‘hell’ or ‘heck’ but now she was able to say ‘fuck’ so causally.

‘She’s changed so much,’ Her mother thought.

“Mother,” (Y/N) called out.

Guinevere reopened her eyes to look at her confused daughter.

“You’ve changed so much, sweetheart,” She stated. “I heard… That you were a doctor while you lived in Prildo Ira,”

“Yeah… I was,” (Y/N) confirmed. “It was very fulfilling. It was always satisfying to see the patient return home,” She smiled to herself. “I remembered when my first patient left the Saint Mirajane, I was so happy,” She rambled on.

As talking about her time in Prildo Ira, all of her happy memories and her friends brought back the tears to her (E/C) eyes. The fact that she would never see them still hadn’t settled in. Vilho, Viji and her family, all of the long-term patients, especially the children. Debbie, Mrs Hudson, Lady, Morrison, Dante and… Gilver…

Her tears finally started to slip from her eyes as her beloved filled her mind.

(Y/N) buried her face into her hands as she let out a heart-wrenching sob. The memories of him and the promised that they made were broken because of a greedy king.

Guinevere’s maternal instinct kicked in at the sight of her eldest daughter crying. Copying her daughter’s actions fro before Guinevere took (Y/N) into her arms and allowed her to bury her face into the crook of her neck.

She stroked the (H/C) locks of her child as she rocked her.

“I’m so sorry my sweetheart,” Guinevere whispered. “Only if I wasn’t so selfish you could live your life how you wanted,” She mumbled that last past to herself.

Like so many years ago, Guinevere held (Y/N) until she fell asleep with tears still falling from her closed eyes.                                                                                                                                                                                                      

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #704: Preparing for the Beauty Pageant (Persona 5 X SSBU)

3:54 p.m. at Shiyuba, Haru's Residence.......

Pit/Dark Pit: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

Shiho: (Trying her Hardest Not to Burst Out in Laughter at What is in Front if Her)

Ryuji: (Has Deadpinned Look on.his Face While Wearing Pigtails and School Uniform That Almost Resembles the Same Style Ann is Wearing Beside Him)...........................This was a mistake.......

Ann: (Smiles Proudly While Wrapping her Arm Around his Shoulder) Oh don't be like that, Ryuji. You look great! We're practically like my Siamese twins already~

DarK Pit: (Puts on a Smug Smirk on his Face) ('Heh') Yeah. Expect he's more muscular and stupid looking than any twin I see. (Continues Laughing Some More)

Ryuji: (Glares at the Dark Angel) S-Shuddup, man! You guys can laugh all you want, but at least I'm man enough to do this kind of shit!

Shiho: (Smiles Softly) Ryuji, we were only laughing with you, not at you. You look amazing.

Pit: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah. I really like your pigtails. It matches great with your outfit.

Haru: (Smiles Brightly) You and Ann look so beautiful together that I honestly couldn't tell either of you apart~

Ryuji: ('Sigh') Thanks, guys. (Glares Back at Dark Pit) At least you three appreciate my looks!

Dark Pit: (Rolls his Eyes) Whatever man. You still look dumb.

Makoto: (Glares at Dark Pit) Pitto!

Dark Pit: What? I'm just saying.

'Room Door Opens'

Futuba: We're doooone!~

Lavenza: And on a perfect schedule as well!

Morgana: You guys might wanna see this!

The gang turn and see Yusuke walking to the living room wearing a red kunoichi like uniform, with a beautifully long ponytail.

Yusuke: How do I look?

Ann: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprised) Wooooow, Yusuke..... You look amazing!~

Ryuji: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah, man! You look like badass ninja girl!

'Ahem'

Ryuji turns to see Lavenza giving him a very unimpressed look on her face.

Lavenza: He is known as a proper kunoichi. (Glares Intensely at Ryuji) You uncultured swan.

Ryuji: (Eyes and Mouth Widened in Complete Disbelief at the Sudden Burn Lavenza Given Him)

Futuba: Awwwww!~ She's already learning what I taught her. I'm so proud~

Morgana: (Sighs While Facepalming Himself)

Makoto: (Rolled her Eyes a Little) Questionable teaching methods aside.....(Smiles Softly) You look great, Yusuke.

Haru: (Smiles Brightly) I agree wholeheartedly. What makes you want to become a kunoichi in the first place.

Yusuke: It was all Futuba's idea, of course. She has shown the design of this outfit a day before then and convinced me to wear for the tonight's beauty pageant. (Smiles a Little). Needless to say, I believe the outcome in all of this itself has become somewhat impressive. (Turns to Futuba) Thanks to you, of course.

Futuba: (Gives Yusuke a Bright Smile and a Thumbs Up) Anytime, Inari!~ You look like a badass already!..... That's a good thing.

Yusuke: (Simply Nodded) Ah. I see. Thank you.

Dark Pit: Yeah. (Went Back to Smirking Again) You look a million times better than Ann's knockoff twin over there, that's for sure.

Pit: (Starts Chuckling Lightly at Dark Pit's Insult to Ryuji) Knockoff twin!~

Makoto: (Sisterly Glares at the Two Angels). That's enough, you two!

Pit: (Immediately Stops Laughing)

Makoto: You promise me and all of your mothers that you two would behave yourselves once you step foot in our world.

Haru: (Gives the Duo Motherly Yet Disappointed Frown) That's right. What would your mothers think if they were to find out that either of you broke that promise?

Ann: Makoto and Haru are right, you guys. (Have her Arm Around Ryuji's Shoulder Again) Don't make fun of my knockoff twin like that!

Makoto/Haru: Ann!

Ann: Okay! Okay! I was only joking here! Really. (Turns Back to The Angel Duo) But seriously, you know what we're saying here, right?

Pit: (Immediately Feels Bad For What He (May Have) Done) Yeah.....(Turns to Ryuji) We're sorry, Ryuji....

Dark Pit: ('Sighs in Defeat') Yeah....We didn't mean to make fun of you or anything......

Ryuji: Eh. It's fine. Should've saw the insults coming the moment I put on this get-up. (Chuckles Lightly) Hopefully I won't look bad as Renny boy would be.

Haru: Speaking of which, what is taking Ren-Ren so long to getting ready?

Makoto: I'm not sure.....(Gets Up from the Couch) Maybe I should go check on-

'Music Starts to Play'

?????: HOT IN....

Ann: Did.... someone turn on the radio or.......

?????: SO HOT IN HERRE!

Haru: I don't think I ever own a radio in the house.

?????: SO HOT IN......

Ann: So where the heck the music is coming fro-

'DOOR PUSHED OPEN'

Everyone immediately turns to the sound of an opened door. Only to see.....

Ren: (In a Feminine Voice) I'm ready~

Ren Amimaya fashionably walk towards the living room, wearing a black leather police uniform with, high heels, a policemen hat, and black cherry colored lipstick on his lips.

Pit/Dark Pit: (Eyes Widened and Jaws Dropped to the Ground in Complete and Utter Shock at What's in Front of Them)

Ann/Shiho: Oh.....

Haru: My......

Ryuji: Freaking........

Futuba: God..........

Yusuke: Huh. Interesting....

Lavenza: Indeed.

Morgana: (Eyes Widened Along with Everyone Else in this Room) Wow.

Makoto: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Shock as Deep Crimson Blush Appears on her Cheek) R-R-R-Ren!?~

Ren: (Giggles Softly While Gently Holding up Makoto's Hand) Yes, my beautiful lovely Queen?~ (Kiss the Top of Makoto's Hand)

Makoto: (Immediately Pulls her Kissed Hand Away While Blushing Even More Bashfully) Ohhhhmygosh!~ W-W-What are you wearing?~

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Police outfit. I thought I could try and blow the crowd away a little. (Went Back to his Seductive Feminine) You guys like?~ (Begins to Wink at his Group of Friends)

Ann: (Already Blushing Herself) Ren....You can't do this to me! (points.at Shiho Over Dramatically) My girlfriend is LITERALLY standing right here!!!

Shiho: (Blushes While Staring at Ren at the Same Time) O-Oh gosh~......

Ann: ('GASPS') SHIHO-KINS!!~

Shiho: I'M SORRY!!~ I can't help it!~ He just.....looks sooooooo hot as a girl right now!!~

Ann: ('Sighs in Utter Defeat') Yeah...... I'm not even going to deny that fact. He's too hot for his own good.......

Ryuji: (Takes a Deep Breath Before Speaking) WELP.......So much for hoping that you would be the laughing stock at school with me, bro. Bet you're gonna win that contest with flying colors too.

Ren: Why, Ryuji~ I am soooo thankful and humble that you have soooo much faith in me-

Ryuji: (Immediately Facepalms Himself) Dude! Just.....('Sigh') Enough with the voice already.....

Ren: (Starts Chuckling Again) Alright. Alright. I'll stop already. But.... seriously though. What do you guys think? Too much?

Haru: (Smiles Brightly) Not at all, Ren-Ren. You look wonderful~

Pit: (Smiles Brightly) Yeah. You rock that dress, Big Bro!

Dark Pit: Can't believe I'm saying this....But Pit-Stain is right. (Smiles a Little) You look great.

Lavenza: (Smiles Brightly) I agree to this statement. You look magnificent, Joker.

Yusuke: (Smiles in an Impressed Manner) Very much so.

Morgana: (Smiles While Shrugging) I can agree to that.

Futuba: (Smiles Softly) Yeah. Not as badass looking as Inari though....

Ann: We love it, Ren-Ren. (Smirks Playfully) And I'm pretty sure that a certain "Queen" in this would say the same~ Right, Makoto?~

Makoto: (Sighs Heavily as She Takes her Hands Away from her Face) Yes......I would. (Smiles Softly) You look amazing, Ren-Ren. (Gives Ren a Loving Hug) And I'm so proud of you for doing this~

Ren: (Softly Smiles While Hugging Makoto Back) Thanks, 'hon. And don't worry. I won't let the audience take me away from you that easily.

Makoto: (Gives Ren a (Cute) Pouty Face) You better not!~ Cause you're mine and mines alone, mister!~

Ryuji: (Starts Snickering) Already getting jealous there, Queen?

Makoto: (Immediately Gives Ryuji a Piercing Glare) SHUT IT, KNOCKOFF ANN!!!

Ryuji: (Eyes and Mouth Widened in Complete Disbelief Again Before Slumping Down on the Floor)

Dark Pit/Pit/Futuba: (Burst Out Laughing at Ryuji's Blantent Dispense) AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Ann/Shiho/Haru: (Starts Snickering at the Poor Man)

Ren: (Chuckles Lightly) Knockoff Ann aside, you really don't have anything to worry about here.

Makoto: ('Sigh') I know...(Smiles Softly at her Boyfriend) I love you, Ren-Ren~

Ren: (Smiles Softly) Love you too, Makoto~ (Gives Makoto a Loving Kiss on the Lips)

Makoto: (Giggles Softly) I love your lipstick color~ It suits you fairly well.

Ren: Thanks. Love yours too~

@princekirijo

@keyenuta

@26shann

@caleb13frede

@ma-lemons

@supergamemaster64

@albion-93

@toriwest

@chompycroc

[winterune]

Under the Sakura Bloom

A Persona 5 Fanfiction

Something I wrote for @shuannweek Day 3 prompt: Cherry Blossom/Rose

Word count: 2730

A/N: This is probably weird. I don’t know what I’m doing here. I liked the idea, but I’m not sure how it turned out. Not many shuann scenes, just a little at the end. Been sitting on this one for weeks now, but I decided to stop editing the heck out of it and just post it so I can move on from it ^^; Probably could’ve written this better. I may rewrite this in the future, if I’m not procrastinating too much

Also available on AO3. 

~*~*~*~*~

The door to the rooftop swung shut. His eyes lingered on it for a few more seconds, waiting to see if it would open again, but it didn’t, and Ryuji Sakamoto didn’t return. Ren sighed, leaning back against the stacks of unused tables abandoned on the school’s roof and stared up at the deep orange sky. But the glass and concrete obstructed his view and the comfort it had always managed to give him was nowhere to be seen. Ren’s lips pressed into a frown.

Back home, he could look at it as far as the eye could see.

Back home...

He caught himself, his heart clenching tight at the thought of his home. They got rid of you for being a pain in the ass, Sojiro had said, and maybe he was right. Ren could imagine the look his guardian would make and the deep scowl he would find on that solemn face. His homeroom teacher had said that Sojiro had sounded angry when she called him. Of course he would be. Not even a day went by and Ren was already making trouble for himself.

Silent glances and hushed whispers from the moment he stepped inside the school.

I heard you got a criminal record, Ryuji had said. Everyone’s talking about it.

Ren scoffed.

Of course they would have known. Of course rumors would have started. What did he expect—that the situation here might be different from how it had been at home?

The judging stares and the silent treatment, culminating in his expulsion from school. As though he had always been the delinquent problem child the indictment made him out to be.

Ren fisted his hands on his sides. A pain in the ass, indeed.

Far above him, a bird black against the sky flew, its wings flapping strongly against the gust of wind. He expected to hear a chirp or a squawk, like how he would hear the birds did at home.

Home, huh?

LeBlanc was his home now. The cluttered, dusty attic was his room. It felt weird to say that he was going home but it wouldn’t be to his house. He wouldn’t find his mother waiting for him, or his father with his cold, calculating stare.

Overhead, the bird zoomed silently past without so much as a glance toward him. It would have been nice if he had wings like those.

***

Ren stared at the ground, at the concrete pavement beneath his feet and his shadow stretching in front of him. The sun hot on his back, he took one step in front of the other, hands in his pockets, his bag slung over one shoulder. After all that had happened, he didn’t feel comfortable looking at the people around him. The bangs of his hair made it possible to hide his eyes and if he made himself small enough, insignificant enough, no one would notice him. Right?

But even as he wandered through the not-so-crowded sidewalk, expertly dodging the people going to-and-fro, someone still managed to bump into his shoulder, hard, and it made him stop.

“Watch where you’re going, kid!” the man snapped—a thirty-some-year-old, dressed in a sweatshirt and baggy old pants. Ren almost muttered an apology, but the alcohol scent made him pause and he glanced at the man over the rim of his glasses.

The man’s face was red, and he was slightly unbalanced on his feet. Still, he seemed sober enough to make eye contact with Ren and the glare the man sent him was enough to make any other person freeze.

Drinking in daylight, huh, Ren scoffed.

He would have forgiven him, would have ducked his head and walked away, had the man not come quick and grabbed the lapels of his uniform, pulling it taut. “Did you just laugh at me?!”

He was too loud; some of the people around them had stopped to look. Ren scowled, meeting the man’s glare with one of his own. “Get your hands off me,” he muttered.

The man paused, followed by a sneer. “Cheeky brat,” he seethed, tightening his grip on Ren. “Aren’t you supposed to apologize when you did some wrong?” Ren gritted his teeth but refrained from rolling his eyes. “Didn’t your mother teach you some manners?”

Didn’t your mother teach you?

Ren was tempted to talk back, to lash out and fight, because it had been his fault for bumping into Ren. But the stares and whispers from the people around them made him stop and Ren noticed the two policemen patrolling the street. They hadn’t seen them yet, but they would, if Ren drew this out longer than needed be. With that thought firmly lodging itself in his mind, he slowly felt his anger draining out, and he hung limp from the man’s hold.

It wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth picking a fight with a random drunk. It wasn’t worth coming to the police station and having Sojiro come to pick him up. It wasn’t worth being pulled out from his probation only to be sent to juvie for some stupid mishap after only one day.

Ren looked down at the ground and quietly bobbed his head with a mutter of an apology. He felt the man’s stare for a few more moments, before the man let him go and shoved him aside. “Kids these days,” the man muttered under his breath. Ren heard a disdainful sniff and a scoff before the man turned on his heels and went on his way.

He lifted his head and stared hard at that retreating back as it slowly disappeared into the crowd. But the whispers pulled his attention back to the present and, noticing their scorn, Ren wished he’d worn a jacket with a hood on to escape them. Of course, everything would be the kid’s fault for getting in the adults’ way.

He quickly ducked his head and continued on his way to the subway.

***

Rebel’s soul.

Ren was about to turn around a corner when a deep familiar voice made him pause. He looked around, but no one seemed to be talking to him.

I am the rebel’s soul that resides within you.

It took a moment to realize that the voice was in his head—the voice he had heard in that castle, rising to the surface from the back of his mind. The conversation he had had with Ryuji on the rooftop came back to him. The castle, the monsters, and…his teacher, dressed in nothing but his underwear and a long furry red cape like something that came out of a comic book or video game. Ryuji had tried to convince himself that it was only a dream, but was it really?

Ren reached up to a sore spot on his temple. It still smarted from the hit he had taken by one of those armored guards. There was that weird cat, too, talking and walking on two legs.

And then…Persona, was it?

Ren took his hand out of his pocket and stared at his palm, clenching and unclenching it slowly. There had been a dagger there. He remembered the feel of the leather hilt, the fluid movement his body had made.

Arsene.

It had been a brief moment, but a surge of power he had never known before had coursed through his body. It had made him feel as though nothing was impossible. As though for once, he could actually help someone.

“Persona, huh?” Ren murmured, curling his fingers into a fist.

A sudden strong gust of wind broke through his reverie, flapping his hair and clothes. It moved upward, and as Ren shielded his eyes, a sweet scent he hadn’t noticed before teased his senses. Ren looked up and caught his breath in his throat. Sakura trees lined the street, their long branches spreading far and high, creating an arching canopy over the entire length of the street, making it seem as though he was inside a tunnel of cherry blossoms.

He didn’t remember this street. Had he made a wrong turn somewhere? But even as a part of him was telling him that he shouldn’t dally any longer, Ren was rooted to the spot, his gaze entranced by the dancing pink flowers on the wind. Countless petals had broken free from their branches and Ren watched as they slowly rained down all around him.

Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t taken the time to stop and see them this year—the flower-viewing festival. A stray petal fell into his line of sight and Ren caught it in his palm. Fragile; transient; these flowers never lasted long, yet when they bloomed, they always looked so grand and spectacular.

His lips parted into a small smile.

Maybe he would keep it and press it as a memento of his first day at school.

Putting the sakura petal in his pocket, Ren was about to turn around and leave when a figure a few ways ahead of him caught his attention. She was standing straight, looking up at the trees, her face in profile. There was no mistaking it—that twin-tailed blonde hair. Not when he had been sitting behind her all throughout the rest of their class. Not when she had made such an impression on him that morning when they were taking shelter from the rain.

And just like that morning, time seemed to stop.

Takamaki, was it? He thought he had heard the girls whisper that name.

Sakura petals rained down all around her, but she didn’t seem to notice them. Her lips were drawn, and her jaw was set, her eyes hard as they stared up at the flowers above her. She had that faraway look, as though she wasn’t seeing what was in front of her at all.

Ren found himself wondering what her eyes perceived that he could not—what thoughts occupied her head, what sorts of feelings resided in her heart. A facade. That was what it looked like. A deep-seated pain hiding behind that brave face. It was a feeling he knew all too well.

As though noticing someone watching her, Takamaki looked his way and their eyes met. A second seemed to last an eternity and the momentary surprise he caught on her face was quickly replaced by a frown. Not so much as an exchange of greeting. Ren watched her turn on her heels and walk away.

There was an urge to follow her, and talk to her, and listen to her. But Ren’s feet would not move and as he stared at her receding back, he wished for that power to help right then and there.

~*~

“Hm? What’s this?”

Ann had come to LeBlanc to hang out with him in his room. They had borrowed an action-clip movie from the rental shop in Shibuya and had just finished watching it. She was supposed to go home, and Ren was supposed to take her to the station, but the heavy clouds that had gathered since early in the day finally broke and rain was pouring fast and hard, like a thick silver sheet, pounding against rooftops and pavements. His attic window would rattle once in a while from the storm raging outside.

Ren was lying on his bed, scrolling through his phone, when Ann picked up a notebook while scouring his shelf. A plain brown notebook he had gotten from Sojiro, and Ann had opened it to the very first page. A single flower petal lay there, the color a faded pink, pressed flat.

Heat spread up his face so fast as an internal alarm glared bright red in his head. “That’s—”

“I didn’t know you press flowers, Ren,” she was saying, but Ren had leaped from his bed and snatched the book from her hands, closing it shut and hiding it behind his back.

In the span of a moment, Ann’s look of surprise quickly turned to confusion and then to curiosity. She grinned, her hand darting behind him, trying to take the book back, but Ren was faster, and he immediately held it high out of her reach.

“Oh, come on! You’re making me curious.”

“It’s nothing,” Ren dodged her question.

“If it’s nothing, then you can at least let me see it.”

“It’s just a flower,” he tried to say.

“Right. So what’s the big deal?” Ann asked, standing back with hands on her hips. “It’s not like it’s a memento of a first love or something, right?”

A joke. That was a joke, and Ren knew that, but that hit too close to home that Ren instinctively looked away. He immediately regretted that decision when he noticed the shock registering on her face. “It is?”

“No, wait, Ann, that’s not—”

The deep scowl on her face was enough to tell him just how annoyed she was. Of course she would be upset. She was his girlfriend and yet he just told her that he had kept something to remember his first love—which wasn't entirely wrong either, because that first love was…

Ren looked away. “It’s not what you think,” he muttered.

“Yeah?” Arms crossed, the hard stare she was giving him was unforgiving.

“It’s just…I mean—” Ren fidgeted. Did he really have to tell her about it?

Ren met her glaring eyes, gulping nervously at the decision he was making. He slowly brought the book down. “It’s the journal Sojiro gave me,” he muttered. “For my probation.”

Now that he thought about it, why the hell did he even stick the flower in a book he would have to return to Sojiro someday? He hadn’t written any embarrassing passages in it, right? That would have been the stupidest thing he had ever done.

Ren held his breath and opened the book to the very first page. The pressed sakura petal lay there. Other than that, it was devoid of any weird scribble—thank God! Just a date at the top and a short description:

Monday, April 11th, first day of school. An accident made me late. Got scolded by the homeroom teacher and Sojiro. But I saw the sakura, so that’s something.

So much had happened that day, and judging from the barely legible writing, he had probably been too tired to write a proper entry. Not that he could say anything about the Palace he had accidentally gotten in with Ryuji. But…he silently patted himself on the back for not talking about how Ann Takamaki had occupied most of his thoughts for the rest of that day.

“First day of school?” Ann read the entry. She looked up at him with a frown. “Hey, you said it was your first love!”

He never actually said it, but—

“You sound disappointed,” he said.

A pause, and Ren saw her cheeks turning pink. She cleared her throat and looked away, suddenly finding interest in another book on the shelf. Ren stared at her back and when the thought slipped into his mind, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

“Were you hoping it’d be you?”

Ann’s hand, which was poised to grab one of the books from its place, stilled. Ren could almost hear her words before she even said them herself: “So what if I was?”

He snorted a laugh before he could stop himself, making Ann whip her head at him with a pout and a glare. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just…” his voice trailed off.

Just like how the sky had been a balm to his wounds, looking at the sakura petal in his journal would soothe his mind, when too many things were going on in his life and too many thoughts occupied his head. Because it reminded him of that moment—that brief encounter under the sakura bloom, when a new resolution formed in his heart. Ren doubted Ann remembered it. She would probably never know how seeing her there had made a difference in his life.

He looked at the journal, then held it out to her. “Do you wanna read it?”

Ann looked up at him, eyes widening in surprise. “What? Really?”

Ren nodded, feeling his face split into a grin. “A warning, though—it’s boring, since I keep most of our phantom thieving out of it.

That elicited a sweet laughter from her. “Well, I’d still be interested with or without the phantom thieving.”

~ END ~

[kaialone]

Spirit Tracks Translation Comparison: The Engineer Ceremony

This will be a comparison of the original Japanese version and the US English localized version.

Specifically, this will cover the cutscene of Link’s engineer ceremony, as well as the brief scene of meeting Chancellor Cole before it.

You can also watch these scenes for yourself in English and Japanese. If you want, you can check out the EU English version, too.

For the comparison, the usual points apply:

Bolded is the original Japanese text, for the reference.

Bolded and italicized is my translation.

Italicized is the official NOA translation.

A (number) indicates that I have a specific comment to make on that part in the translation notes.

As you read this, please keep in mind that with translations like these, it’s important not to focus on the exact literal wordings, since there is no single “correct answer” when it comes to translations.

Rather than that, consider the actual information that is being conveyed, in which way, and why.

--

Characters in this part who had their name changed between versions:

"Geezer” = “Teacher”, “the minister” = Chancellor Cole (He’s not actually named until later in Japanese.)

--

Meeting the Chancellor:

Guard:

この先は ゼルダ姫さまの 謁見の間である

Princess Zelda's audience hall is up ahead.

The princess's throne room is up these stairs.

Guard:

おまえのような一般の ものは この上に行くことさえ 許されんぞ！

Commoners like you aren't even allowed to go up here!

Only invited guests are allowed in.

Guard:

あっちいけ シッシ

Shoo shoo! Get lost!

What that means for you is...GET LOST!

Cole:

なんです！ さわがしいですね〜

What is going on here? You are being quite noisy.

What's all the commotion here?

Guard:

これは 大臣！

Oh, Minister!

Oh, good day, Chancellor Cole! Apologies for the disturbance.

Guard:

は！ こやつが ゼルダ姫に 用があると申しておりまして！

Sir! This one here claims that he has business with Princess Zelda!

This boy says he's come to see the princess!

Cole:

ほぉ！ 今日の任命式の 機関士 見習いですか… まだ子供じゃないですか…

Oho! So, you are the engineer apprentice for the appointment ceremony today...? But you are still a child, no...?  (1)

Is that so? You're here for the graduation ceremony? But you're so young.

Cole:

しかし 各地で線路が消えて 大変だというのに 姫様もこんな 式を行うとは 何を考えてるのか

Honestly though, just what is Her Highness thinking? The disappearing of the tracks everywhere is a serious issue, and yet she holds ceremonies such as this.

What a waste of resources. The Spirit Tracks are vanishing,

yet the princess insists on performing these ridiculous ceremonies.

Cole:

こぞう！ 任命式はこの上で行います！ ついてきなさい！

Boy! The appointment ceremony will be held upstairs! Follow me!

Well, come along, boy. We must get you to your ceremony! Follow me!

Cole:

ぼ〜っ としてないで そこを おどきなさい！

Stop daydreaming and move aside!  (2)

Don't just stand there drooling, Private! Move aside!

Guard:

は！

Yes, sir!

Yes, sir!

--

Optional dialogue if you speak to the guard again:

Guard:

なんだよ まったく… いばりくさって

Seriously, what the heck... He's so full of himself.

He's so full of himself!

Guard:

いや あの大臣だよ！ ゼルダ姫がやさしいから 調子に乗っちゃって

That minister, I tell you! Because Princess Zelda is so nice, he's getting cocky.

Princess Zelda is so nice, she lets the chancellor get away with anything!

Guard:

この国の王にでもなった つもりでいるんじゃないのか！！

I mean who does he think he is?! He’s acting like he’s the king here or something!!

Now he struts around the castle as if he were king!

--

Link’s Ceremony:

Cole:

許しもなく顔を上げるとは… 無礼ですよ 小僧！

Raising your head without permission... That is disrespectful, boy!

Raising your head without permission?

You ill-mannered urchin!

Zelda:

そんなに かしこまらないで下さい…

あなたが 新たに 機関士になる方ですね？

お名前を聞かせて 下さいますか？

Please, there is no need to be so formal...

So, you are the one who will become the new engineer?

Would you please tell me your name?

Don't pay any attention to Chancellor Cole.

You must be the new engineer.

What's your name?

Zelda:

…リンク 素敵な お名前ですね

リンク あなたは…

...Link. What a wonderful name.

Link, you are...

Oh, Link is a wonderful name!

Well, Link, by the power vested in me,

I hereby proclaim you...

Cole:

姫さま ムダな言葉は 必要ありません！

お早く任命式を おすませ下さい

Your Highness, there is no need for these pointless words!

Please do hurry up and finish the ceremony.

We're wasting our time here, Your Highness!

Please just hurry up and finish this foolish ceremony.

Zelda:

…わかりました 大臣

...Very well, Minister.

Very well, Chancellor.

Zelda:

ありがとう ジイ

Thank you, Geezer.  (3)

Thank you, Teacher.

Zelda:

リンク あなたを 我が国の機関士に任命します

この国と民のために 精励される ことを期待しています…

Link, I hereby appoint you as an engineer of our kingdom.

I expect you to work hard for the sake of this kingdom and its people...

I hereby recognize our newest royal engineer...

Link!

Work hard, for we all rely on you, Link.

Text Box:

王家から機関士の 任命書を頂いた！

これで一人前の機関士だ！

You got your engineer's certificate from the royal family!

Now you're a full-fledged engineer!

You got your royal engineer's certificate!

Now you're a full-fledged engineer!

Zelda:

お願いです 今は何も言わないで…

Please, do not say anything right now...

Shh--take this. No! Don't say a word right now.

Zelda:

後で これを読んで下さい 大臣に気づかれないで…

Read this later, and do not let the minister notice...

Read this later...and beware of the chancellor!

Cole:

小僧 いつまで そこにいるつもりですか？

用は すんだ��です 早く帰って 大事な汽車でも みがいてなさい

How long do you intend to stand there, boy?

You are done here, so please hurry up and go home, polish your precious train or something.

The ceremony's over, so I suggest you move along.

Why don't you go...polish your train or something.

Cole:

…もっとも…

...Although...

Not that it matters much.

Cole:

すぐ役に たたなく なるんだがな

It's going to be useless soon enough, of course.

The thing will be useless before long...

Translation Notes:

Because of how the Japanese language works, those lines technically could also read as Cole talking about Link rather than to him. Either would probably make sense for him, but I went with the latter.

What I adapted as “daydreaming” here, is ぼ〜っ として/bōttoshite in Japanese, which can refer to “daydreaming”, “spacing out”, and so forth, so the English version’s “drooling” is likely going for something like that, too.

In Japanese, this character is literally called ジイ/Jī, which can be translated as “old man” or “geezer”.

--

Comparisons & Thoughts:

These scenes introduce us to some major characters, so there is a bit more to talk about here.

-

Let’s get a minor thing out of the way first.

In Japanese, the ceremony is called an “appointment ceremony“, while in English it’s called a “graduation ceremony”.

The former does make more sense, as it doesn’t seem like Link had to officially “graduate” in order to be appointed, since Alfonzo just does the final exam with him on the fly while they make their way to Castle Town.

But “graduation ceremony” probably just sounded more natural, plus it saves some text space.

-

Since he appears first, I will go over Chancellor Cole next.

One detail that stands out about him is that he’s a minister in Japanese, not a chancellor. In fact, all other language versions seem to have him as a minister.

If I had to guess, I think this was probably changed so his name would be an alliteration?

He is not the first Zelda character to have the title of minister though, as there was also Minister Potho from The Minish Cap.

So, the English version is technically inconsistent here.

Also interesting is the fact that in Japanese, the minister is not given a name yet at this point.

But I will talk about this more once we are actually told what his name is.

In Japanese, Cole speaks in a manner that is technically formal and “polite”, but of course he also gives off a vibe of looking down on others, given what he actually says.

For my translation, I chose to adapt Cole’s formal way of speaking by having him not use contractions all that often. But keep in mind that this is only one way to adapt this.

Plus, not using contractions is probably not something the English version could’ve pulled off in-game, given how much more text space that would eat up.

The English version’s portrayal of Cole is ever so slightly more openly insulting, slightly less underhanded, but not in a way that deviates too far from the original at this point.

There is a more notable difference with how Cole is characterized between the versions, but it’s one that won’t come across well until later.

We only get an early hint of it during the moment where Cole flashes his smirk at Link, where he briefly talks in a slightly more informal manner.

If the English version was trying to reflect that, it doesn’t really stand out. But it doesn’t stand out much in my translation either, as a lot of these differences are just harder to portray in English.

-

And finally, we have the introduction of Princess Zelda.

In this scene in particular, Zelda comes across as slightly more soft-spoken in Japanese, possibly discouraged by the minister’s presence.

This is something we see from time to time with her, having her be a bit more lively in English, but it’s not always the case.

Similar to Cole, Zelda has a mostly formal, polite speaking style in Japanese, so I decided to adapt it in a similar manner.

But note again that this is just my personal choice, and that there are many ways one may choose to adapt this.

Given Zelda’s very sheltered background, I felt it would make sense to not have her talk like most children her age. And I feel her speaking style in Japanese usually is more formal than other children her age.

Now, some of you may know of a developer quote that mentions how this Zelda was actually specifically designed to be less princess-like and more like a normal girl.

So my writing style for her might seem contradictory to that idea, but I personally don’t think so.

For me, Zelda’s child-like nature is not reflected in the way she speaks, but in what she actually says and how she acts.

She attempts to have a friendly chat with Link during this formal ceremony, she is often quite outspoken about things she doesn’t like, she can even be blunt to the point of being rude, all while being somewhat ignorant about this herself.

Additionally, she will often voice her fears and be self-deprecating in a more direct way, which you don’t often see from the Zelda archetype, who’s supposed to be more of an authority figure.

But on top of that, she can also be quite playful and goofy, of course.

It’s these traits of her that, to me, reflect her nature as just being a normal kid, despite her upbringing.

That explanation was a bit long, but I wanted to make sure no one mistakes my writing of Zelda as an indication that she’s actually a super serious, no-nonsense character, or anything like that.

-

As a whole, I feel like these scenes were “spiced up” a bit more in English than say, the scene at Niko’s house, but they never digress too far from the source material.

To me, the Japanese version does offer a slightly different perspective on the characters, but with a lot of these things it’s more smaller details that add up over the course of the whole game, rather than specific singular examples.

With that said, this is it for this part. Feel free to check out the next one!

--

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--

[mythologyfolklore]

Ares and Athena through the years - Ch. 07

(A/N: trigger warning for mention of extreme torture and gore, plus mention of rape and child rape. Don't read further, if this is too much for you. Oh, and excessive use of the f-word. Also, Eris speaking with a weird accent, because she does what she wants.)

Chapter Seven: Captured and broken

.

Ares had gone missing.

At first no one had really minded, it had been wonderfully quiet without that noisy maniac.

In fact, had it not been for the circumstances, they would have used this opportunity to relax, but there was no reason for relaxation.

Olympos was besieged by two adolescent Gigantes, the Aloiadai. They were attempting to pile up a mountain, so they could take over the home of the gods. They threatened the Olympians and on top of that were harassing Hera and Artemis.

Ares had had enough of their nonsense and had gone to face them – despite having a bad cough, that idiot. But he still hadn't returned.

Which was bad, because now they had a gap in their defence, should the twins succeed in reaching up to the heavens.

And it was slowly, but surely getting too quiet.

Hermes and Apollon had admitted to missing their older half-brother's constant teasing.

Athena was growing more and more tense. She could have kicked herself for not knowing how badly she needed the annoying idiot. She missed the constant fighting. With Ares things never got boring, he was her adversary, someone to let steam off with. The blue-eyed goddess was getting seriously bored, restless and (not that she would ever admit it) worried for her half-brother.

Where was he?

Hephaistos suggested that something must have happened to him, because why would he go off, fight two Gigantes and then stay away for a year, not letting his family hear anything from him?

Aphrodite had turned into a nervous wreck and was constantly fearing the worst, which made her spiral into panic attacks every thirty minutes.

Eileithyia and Hebe were concerned too.

Even Zeus and Hera seemed to be worried.

The King of the Gods was constantly wandering to and fro in his office and the Queen was ruffling her hair in stress.

Since she and Artemis both were being harassed by those overgrown brats, they even had put aside their quarrels and could sometimes be seen sitting together at Hestia's hearth, talking and bonding over the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

.

To everyone's surprise Hera also turned out to be a stress baker.

So it came, that one evening the Olympians sat together in the assembly hall in a low mood, munching cake.

Finally Dionysos spoke up: “Who wants to get shitfaced?”

But before anyone could take the invitation, Zeus shook his head. “This is no time to get drunk”, he chided the youngest god and poor Dionysos lowered his head in shame. “If my son returns home in good health, that will be a reason to celebrate.”

Athena really didn't like the way her father specified “if he returns in good health”.

Zeus knew the future; Apollon had got that from him.

And whatever Zeus was seeing, it had to be bad.

Even though he appeared calm on the outside, the weather gave away, that he wasn't; his anxiety had manifested in a never-ending rainstorm, that had flooded all the lower areas of Olympos (the gods couldn't leave their palaces to walk on the pavements, without being knee-deep in the water).

After Zeus' statement, no one spoke another word.

Aside from the heavy rain and howling wind, there was just icy silence.

Finally, it was Apollon, who couldn't take it anymore.

“Father, how much longer do you want us to sit here?!”, he snapped, “It's been more than a year already and he's still missing! We have to do something! Ares may be a stupid jerk, but he is still one of us! They must have captured and imprisoned him somewhere, that's the only logical explanation for why he is still gone! What if those gigantic brats overwhelmed him and are torturing him in their evil lair?! What if they chained him up and are now doing unspeakable-”

“SHUT UP!!!”, Aphrodite shrieked all of the sudden and burst into distressed sobbing.

Hera went to pat her shoulder comfortingly and then proceeded to glare at her step-son.

“Way to elevate everyone's morals, Latôios¹! If you were as tactful as-”

“Enough!”, Zeus barked and everyone fell silent. “We will find him and until then-”

Right in that moment Iris burst in and announced a visitor.

Athena blinked in confusion.

Who could possibly have shown up here, on Olympos, in this weather?!

.

Eriboia was at loss as to what the Erebos that abnormally large bronze jar was doing in their cellar, why her step-sons wouldn't let her near it and what the heck they were doing in the cellar so often to begin with, when they weren't piling mountains on top of each other.

The overgrown youths were constantly bugged with these questions: “What is that ugly, huge bronze jar doing downstairs?”, “Why won't you let me go near that thing?” and “What the Hades are you two doing so much down there?”

After months of prying, it was Ephialtes who finally caved: “Alright, alright, shut up, I'll tell you! We caught the son of Zeus!”

“Which one?”, Eriboia deadpanned, “Zeus must have fathered at least ten percent of the population of Hellas. Be more specific.”

“Well, Ares! The god of war! You know, the only legitimate son?”

Oh no.

“Anyway, we caught him and wanted to use him as hostage, but Zeus hasn't reacted so far, and now that damn war god won't stop struggling, screaming and trying to free himself. But he can scream and struggle all he wants, because we bound him with extra strong chains! They're magical, you see, they grow tighter every time the captive moves. If we keep that loser down there long enough, they'll crush him! And until then he's a fun toy to play with, when we're frustrated or bored!”

Holy goat!

“Ha! It's like he wanted to be played with! He seriously took on us both and thought he could beat us all on his own! Now no one can bring us down! Soon we will conquer Olympos and all the gods and then-”

A piercing scream came from the cellar, cutting Ephialtes' boasting off.

As they looked into the room, they could see the ugly giant jar was quaking.

Eriboia was just a normal human – maybe that was why she felt the uncanny vibes coming from the jar so intensely. And it would have put her off, but the screams of agony appealed to her conscience way too much.

The teenage giant only smirked, before turning back to his step-mother. “Right then, we're off. Gotta pile up more mountains, so we can reach Olympos! Don't let him out, mother!”

With that he was gone.

Now Eriboia was entirely different in character from her step-sons, nor did she share their way of thinking. She had nothing against the gods and definitely didn't condone hubris – that and the way Ephialtes had just called the god of war a toy was beyond creepy.

Gingerly she approached the jar and pressed her ear against the bronze.

Now that she was close enough, she could hear the war god's faint voice whimper in agony.

“Help …”, it rasped, “Help … please … let me out … let me out …”

Her heart twisted painfully and she really wanted to help. But she wasn't strong enough to topple over that huge metal jar and maybe it would have hurt the captive too. So she knocked against the jar to show him, that she had heard.

“Hey”, she spoke, “Don't worry, I don't want to hurt you. I'm a mortal human, who wants to help. I'm not strong enough to get you out of there, but I will get help as soon as I can, okay?”

For a moment, there was silence.

Then a strained voice answered: “Thank you … please hurry … please.”

She frowned; it sounded so fragile, broken and weak.

Can the Deathless Ones die after all?, she wondered.

There was no time for long pondering, though.

She disguised herself and took off to Olympos to tell Zeus, where his son was.

Alone, there was a problem: how would she, a mortal, ever reach the Heavens?

.

Ares had never been so glad to hear a mortal's voice.

That woman – he just assumed it was one, judging by the voice – was his only hope.

The chains were cutting deep into his flesh and many of his bones had already broken under the pressure. He sank onto the side. The movement caused the chains to tighten even more, which caused him to cry out in mortal agony.

Ares was dying and he knew it; not only was he being crushed, he was also starving, dehydrating … and the Aloiadai had inflicted the worst kinds of torture upon him. He couldn't breathe. If someone didn't get him out of here soon, he would perish.

As much as he had always wanted to believe, that his immortality was absolute and that nothing could truly destroy him, he knew that Ephialtes was right. It would happen, if-

“Ares?”

The oh-so-familiar voice of the Messenger of the Gods nearly made him cry, but he had no tears left.

“Ares! Ares, where are you? Answer!”

He could only cough weakly.

Looking up, he saw Hermes' face come into view and peek into the jar.

“Oh, finally, I found y-HOLY FUCKING SHIT, IS THAT YOU???”

Ares let out a laboured chuckle: “Took you long enough, squirt.”

“Holy shit, what the Tartaros, what the fuck-”

“Just get me outta here!”, the war god croaked, “But careful, these chains are-”

The rest of the sentence died in the coughing of Ikhor.

.

Hermes shook his head and pulled his half-brother out of the accursed jar as carefully as possible. Then he picked him up bridal style and carried him back to Olympos as fast as his winged sandals could carry him.

He was flying at the speed of the wind, but the flight still seemed endless. Especially when the Messenger noticed, that Ares was starting to pass out.

If he passes out, he might never wake up!

“Ares, you have to stay awake! Do you hear me?!”

“Dunn' think I can – ngh!”

The war god grunted in pain and spewed more Ikhor, as his chains grew even tighter.

Hermes felt sick at the sight, but he had to keep him awake.

“You can do it, man! We're almost there! Here, we just passed through the gates!”

“… What's with the weather?”

The messenger cringed. “It's been shitty ever since you disappeared. Dad has anxiety.”

Ares grinned weakly. “Hey, the wind 'n' rain … feel good … nice 'n' cool …”

Oh no, he's falling asleep!

“Hey, Ares, look! There's Hephaistos' forge! Remember the incident?”

The response was a weak glare.

“Okay, sorry, sorry! Remember the Gigantomakhia? We all kicked arse and you killed Ekhidnades and Mimas?”

“U-huh.”

“And how father clapped your shoulder and said 'Well done, son'?”

A rattling laugh: “How could I … forget? Best day of … my shitty life …”

The older god's ribs and sternum broke with a nasty crack and he spat more Ikhor.

Hermes cringed at the sight more disturbing than anything he had ever encountered in Hades' domain.

“Okay, Ares, hang in there! There is Athena's olive garden! And there are Hera's apple trees and pomegranates!”

It didn't help; the other's red eyes were closing.

“Hey, Ares, don't pass out! You've gotta stay awake! Think of your family! Your kids!”

Ares smiled faintly. “My kids …”

“Yes, yes! They need you!”

“M-hm. Hey … how long was I …?”

“Thirteen months. Today it's the 3rd day of the Gamelion²”, Hermes supplied.

Ares groaned in despair: “I missed everyone's birthdays!”

Hermes was surprised, but also felt compelled to make the older feel better.

“When I visited Harmonia in Elysion last year, I wished her a happy birthday from you.”

“Good. Can you do it … tomorrow night too? Today … it's her birthday. And … bring her roses … I promised her … flowers from here …”

Hermes smiled: “Doing it still today.”

Ares forced a smile. “Thank you …” And promptly passed out in his half-brother's arms.

“No problem and-ARES?! OH NO, BY KHAOS, PLEASE, NO! WAKE UP! YOU HAVE TO WAKE UP! ASKLEPIOS! APOLLON! ATHENA! HEPHAISTOS! FATHER! ANYONE! HEEEELP!!!”

.

The chains were even darker than the gods had feared at first.

They couldn't even be removed normally, someone needed to neutralise the dark magic. Only one goddess was capable of this and thus Zeus sent for Night-Wandering Hekatê. And indeed, with powerful ancient spells the ever-shifting Titanis made the chains release their hold on their captive.

Now the healing deities could finally take the war god to the sickbay, where he was laid into the Pool of Paiôn³. Apollon himself, Asklepios and his wife and daughters had all come together and poured their entire healing powers into the water non-stop for three days.

But his injuries (both external and internal) were so grave, that he would be in the Healing Coma for at least another year.

Later that night, the Olympians held council and listened to the reports of the divine doctors and of Hekatê.

“The number and kinds of injuries we found on him is truly disturbing”, Asklepios stated, “His inner organs all crushed, not a single bone unbroken and … and …”

He hesitated.

“Go on”, Zeus urged.

Only, the son of Apollon was obviously unsure of how to put into words, what he really wanted to say – it took him a while to find a way to put it into words.

“Well, my wise king, it seems like the Aloiadai … uhm, used him to elevate their boredom.”

Zeus tensed up and the air suddenly became extremely heavy and charged.

“What?”, he asked slowly.

Asklepios swallowed, before he continued: “Apart from the wounds and bruises inflicted by the chains, we also found scratch marks and hand imprints all over his body and … injuries between the thighs.”

The meaning of that was obvious.

For a moment everything was quiet … too quiet.

Then, all at once, the wrath of Zeus was unleashed in a thunderstorm of mythological proportions.

.

Deep down in the underworld, a loud rumble was heard and the inhabitants trembled in fear.

Persephone looked up from her work. “What the here is going on up there?”

Hades shrugged: “Probably your father throwing a hissy fit or something.”

.

Finally Zeus calmed down enough to dial it back with the lightning and thunder and cleared his throat: “Ahem. My apologies. What were you saying?”

Poor Asklepios (who wasn't remotely as used to Zeus' temper tantrums as everyone else) stuttered the rest of his report: “Uh-uhm … h-his injuries a-are nothing my ch-children and I c-can't fix, b-b-but his soul … he-he'll be traumatised.”

Zeus took a deep breath, before he could unleash another European hurricane, and nodded. “Thank you, grandson. You may go.”

Asklepios left the hall as quickly as was appropriate, obviously relieved to no longer have to be in the enraged sky god's presence.

Zeus sighed and rubbed the back of his head.

Then he turned to Hekatê and asked for her report (ignoring the eyes floating in the air around her head and upper body as far as possible).

“I have wandered the earth ever since I could walk”, she lisped. “But never have I seen anything so sinister. More so I'm puzzled, that the Aloiadai even got their hands on these. If you would come closer, so I can show you what I mean?”

The Olympians all came closer and surrounded Zeus and Hekatê.

She placed her hands onto the metal and eldritch symbols began to show.

“As you can see, ancient and powerful magic has been woven into them. This”, she pointed at a certain line of symbols, “Is a tightening spell. It detects the slightest movement and causes the chains to constrict in response. Of course Ares would have tried to free himself and inadvertently made it worse.”

She pointed at another row of symbols.

“This is the curse of mortality. Every divine being's essence is encompassed by a thick shell and that's our divinity. But these chains infiltrate the protective shell and pump the impurity of mortality into your very essence.”

Hera gasped: “Does that mean my son is now a mortal?”

“No. Fortunately, Hermes found him just in time. But one more day and it would have been too late. You have seen how faint his divine aura was.”

The Titanis sighed and went on: “This spell here is the worst. It drains the life out of the victim and transfers its life force onto the person holding power over the chains. In other words, while Ares was their prisoner, the Aloiadai grew stronger at his expense. They fed off his very life force, like parasites. Although I don't think they were aware of it, considering their age.”

Now it was Athena, who cried out: “So, even if he hadn't succumbed to his physical injuries, he would have wasted away, until finally all of him was drained, leaving him a lifeless husk?!”

“Yes.”

“But this is awful! This is evil! How- they're only Kouroi⁴!

“Indeed”, the Titanis agreed. “But watch, it gets worse – step back, everyone!”

They did and Hekatê sang another ancient incantation. The eerie glow of the shackles intensified, grew darker and darker. Then Hekatê suddenly leapt back and not a moment too soon; a substance began to ooze out of the metal like wafts of black mist.

There was a collective gasp and several of the attenders fainted.

Poseidon's and Zeus' faces turned ashen and their black eyes widened with horror.

“No!”, Zeus whispered, “It can't be … this is impossible!”

“But … but how???”, Poseidon screamed, “We sealed them away, they shouldn't have-”

“Father, uncle”, Athena spoke up, “I beg you, do not withhold this from us – what is this?”

Zeus squeezed his eyes shut and took a breath to compose himself.

Finally, he revealed, that those were the chains that once bound the Elder Kyklopes and the Hekatonkheires⁵, who were first imprisoned by their father Ouranos and then by Kronos.

“They were forged from the pure darkness of Erebos and the baleful essence of Tartaros. For the Titanes, we used different bonds, as we didn't want to use the terrible old ones. My siblings and I collectively decided, that something so appalling must never be used again. So we hid the chains, where no one would ever find them – or so we thought.”

He turned back to Hekatê. To his dismay, she was weeping from her floating eyes.

“Do forgive me”, she apologised. “The horror of this whole situation just breaks my heart.”

Zeus nodded. As king he couldn't weep, but the awful weather on Olympos spoke volumes.

“We all feel the same way. Anyhow, now that this has been done to my son and heir, I decree, that we must make sure something like this can never happen again. Sealing these chains away obviously wasn't enough. Hekatê, can you destroy them?”

“No, I'm afraid that's not within my power. I could break them, but destroying them completely would require the power of one of the Protogenoi.”

The Olympians exchanged uncomfortable glances.

The Protogenoi. The Firstborn Ones.

Which of them could they summon?

Athena addressed the problem: “We have to make a choice. On one hand it would be wise to call upon Nyx, Erebos and/or Tartaros, as their essence is the main component of these chains. On the other, it would make sense to summon the Protogenos, who made them.”

“That was my father.”

Everyone stared at Aphrodite, who had just woken up and was standing up.

“I was born from the essence – hold your tongue, Poseidon – of Ouranos, the Sky. He is the one who made them, as Zeus already said.”

“Can you summon him?”, Athena enquired.

“I can try”, Aphrodite replied, “I can speak to him, but I'm not sure, if he will actually help us.”

“Do try”, Zeus requested. “You are the most beautiful of his children. If anyone can convince him to destroy these disgusting things, it's you.”

Aphrodite consented, but declared crossly: “Mind you, everyone: I'm only doing this for Ares! This is my father's fucking fault! These fucking chains did this to my love and I will not fucking rest, before they've been fucking obliterated!!!”

Then she stomped out into the rain.

It seemed like an eternity, until Athena noticed, that her father was growing uneasy.

“He's coming”, he informed everyone. “I can sense a supernatural shift in the atmosphere.”

And sure enough, Aphrodite returned with a majestic looking man of lofty stature, clad in a long robe covering his entire body.

His skin was the night sky, his hair and coat resembled the thunderclouds outside (in fact, his hair seemed to be composed of the clouds outside). He radiated the sheer primordial power and very essence of the holy heavens.

So this is Ouranos?

There was something about him, that made Athena's very flesh crawl. His face was void of all emotion, his silvery eyes were cold.

Psychopath, was the first word that came to her mind.

“Welcome to my home, venerated forefather”, Zeus greeted the old god with ostensible calm.

“Thank you”, the Sky replied coolly. “Now, why have you dared to summon me? My daughter here told me, that it is important, otherwise I would not have come.”

“Yes, indeed it is. I reckon you remember these?”

He pointed at the broken shackles, still lying on the floor and oozing darkness and bale.

The Sky stepped closer to examine them. “Ah, yes. It was I who made them.”

“We know that. Now, if you could-”

“Why did you free the Kyklopes and the Hekatonkheires?”, Ouranos demanded to know. “I sent them to Tartaros for a reason.”

Suddenly Athena felt a surge of rage. And she wasn't the only one.

Zeus' coal black eyes grew hard. “You imprisoned your children, because they weren't graceful and fair-faced, like the Titanes. My siblings and I liberated our uncles, because they were talented and useful and never hurt anyone, unless we asked them to.”

His passive-aggressive outrage caused more lightning and thunder outside the hall and in Ouranos' cloudy hair. As response it waved in what was probably irritation.

“You're the son of Kronos and Rheia indeed”, Ouranos remarked scathingly.

Athena intervened: “Do forgive us, Dome of Heaven. Surely you must know, what these chains have done to a god, who despite all differences is one of us. So you need to understand, that we're quite … on edge.”

Understatement of the millennium, but whatever.

Ouranos turned and looked the bright-eyed goddess up and down.

“You're the granddaughter of Okeanos, the only honourable one of my sons. Yes, I see him and your mother in you. Well then, for your sake and that of my daughter Aphrodite, I will forget this argument ever happened.”

“Thank you, honoured forefather”, Athena said politely. “Anyway, us gods are in agreement, that such dangerous means of confinement should never be used again. We couldn't possibly imagine anyone more capable of preventing another such tragedy, than you.”

“I understand”, the Sky nodded, “You want them to be destroyed completely. Hmm …”

He picked the adamantine chains of darkness up effortlessly, but frowned, before continuing: “Something has been done to them, that wasn't my work. I remember each component that I used to create these. The parasite spell and the mortality spell were not among them. These two must have been added by the Titanes, I can't think of another explanation. The only other Primordials, who could have done this, wouldn't have.”

Ouranos grimaced. “I agree with you, these things are really disgusting. Something so hideous must not be allowed to exist.”

His hands began to glow as bright as the sun, countering the dark essence of the chains … until eventually the chains just faded into thin air. He informed the gods, that whatever of this evil had remained would be erased by the holy essence of Great Khaos itself, then proceeded to strut out of the palace to become one with the Dome Above again.

.

A few moments later Zeus groaned: “Oh thank the Moirai, he and the grisly chains are finally gone!”

Upon hearing this, the other gods returned to their seats and allowed themselves a moment to let the tension seep out of them.

For the first time that night the (still heavy) rain and howling wind actually felt … relaxing.

After an uncertain amount of time, Hekatê asked: “May I go home?”

Her vibrant violet hair had greyed and she had rapidly aged throughout the night; she had arrived a little girl and was now a crone. A sign, that it was almost dawn.

Zeus allowed her to go and thanked her.

She smiled: “Don't mention it. I like to help.”

With that, Hekatê took her twin torches back from Hestia, said goodbye and vanished into the dead of night.

Once she was gone, Apollon sighed and rubbed his temples. “Shit … is it really morning already? Man, I haven't slept in days, putting my healing energy into the Akesian Sleep⁶ has completely drained me and there is still so much to do! This will be a long day …”

“Don't worry”, Hera muttered, “I'll make a few calls for today, so you should have less duties to attend to. Consider this a sign of gratitude for helping my eldest son.”

“Much appreciated”, the younger god thanked her. “And you're welcome.”

Zeus stood up. “I think we all need sleep. It will do no good to any of us to have no rest.”

“Wait, father! We're not done yet!”, Athena claimed and everyone sunk back into their seats with a groan.

The King of the Gods frowned. “What's the matter, my daughter? What did we forget?”

“Getting rid of the chains was only one part of the problem”, she pointed out, “We still need to take care of the other part: the Aloiadai, who did this to Ares.”

“Yes, but what shall we do? What if another of us goes to face them and is captured as well? You've seen, what they've done to Ares. What if they have more of those chains?”, Hephaistos worried.

“I don't think they do”, Athena replied, “I don't think they even knew what the chains were. Anyway, we need to dispose of them, before they can kill us all and force Hera and Artemis to-”

“I say we vaporise them!”, Aphrodite hissed, “Reduce them to ashes, like my father did with the chains!”

“And how exactly do you plan to do that?”, Athena questioned. “Remember how Ares' immense power didn't impress them at all? We need to-”

“I DON'T FUCKING CARE!!!”, the goddess of love shrieked and began to glow red with rage, “I DO NOT FUCKING CARE, PALLAS ATHENA!!! LOSING MY DAUGHTER WAS BAD ENOUGH, NOW I NEARLY FUCKING LOST MY LOVE AND THE FATHER OF MY DIVINE CHILDREN! WHAT DO YOU FUCKING EXPECT ME TO DO??? SIT IDLY BY, AS THEY GET AWAY WITH ALMOST FUCKING TORTURING HIM TO DEATH?! I DO NOT FUCKING FORGIVE AND FORGET! EVERY FIBRE OF MY BEING CRIES OUT FOR REVENGE! I WANT THEM TO FUCKING SUFFER, LIKE THEY MADE ARES SUFFER, IF IT'S THE LAST FUCKING THING I DO!”

“SHUT THE TARTAROS UP!!!”, Athena roared, losing her last shred of composure. “WHAT MAKES YOU BELIEVE WE'LL LET THEM GET AWAY WITH IT?! WE ALL! WANT! REVENGE! THEY HARASSED HERA, EVEN THOUGH SHE IS OUR QUEEN AND ARTEMIS, EVEN THOUGH SHE'S A VIRGIN GODDESS LIKE ME! WE ALL WANT THEM TO SUFFER AND BY STYX, THEY WILL!!!”

“Ahem … excuse me, ladies?”

The furious goddesses blinked and turned to Zeus, who was looking slightly unsettled.

He sighed: “Calm down, both of you. You're scaring everyone.” And gestured towards the table with his thumb.

Athena and Aphrodite sweatdropped, as they spied the other Olympians hiding under it, huddling together, whimpering and shivering in fear. The two disputants stuttered an awkward apology and helped their fellow Olympians to come out.

Hera, first to recover, addressed Aphrodite: “Next time you get angry, please tone it down with the F-word. It's unbecoming for a member of the Dodekatheoi⁷.”

“I'm sorry for that”, the older goddess apologised, “I don't know what came over me.”

“Anyway”, Athena groaned, “We need a plan. Raw violence didn't help Ares and it won't help us. We have to be more cunning than this. Besides, his state is partly our fault, as we failed to rescue him for more than a year. We're all upset and out for blood, so does anyone beside myself have an idea how to get rid of them?”

Artemis raised her hand. “I do. And I'm confident, that it'll work. It involves you and me and the help of discord-sowing Eris.”

.

Ares remained in the Akesian Sleep for longer than Asklepios had predicted.

During that time, everyone who cared came to check on the unconscious god.

Athena was surprised by how many people that were, and even more surprised that she was among them.

One day she saw Hera crouched against the glass of the healing tank, weeping bitterly.

“My son, my little boy, my champion, my little whirlwind …”

It had been many thousand years, since Athena had last heard Hera use those nicknames for her son. It reminded her that, deep down under all her cold and queenly exterior, Hera loved her children, even though she had the worst ways of showing it sometimes.

Sometime later Athena saw her father Zeus and Hera stand in front of the healing tank together. He was holding her in his arms and she was crying into his chest. It was a rare moment of harmony between the two and Athena couldn't help, but smile.

Of course Aphrodite came a lot too. Day after day she lingered by the tank and prayed to Khaos, that Ares would get better and back to his old self. But other than that, she never wept. Like Hera, she stayed strong for her children, which was quite admirable in Athena's eyes.

Ares' children too came every day.

One evening, Athena found the twins Phobos and Deimos snoozing against the glass, apparently they had fallen asleep waiting for their father to get better. Instead of waking them up, she had just carefully scooped them up and carried them back to Aphrodite's house. Their mother had smiled at the sight of Athena carrying two pre-teenage boys in her arms, but had allowed the younger goddess to help her tuck them in.

.

Hephaistos too came to check on his older brother.

The sight was painful.

Ares was floating in the Pool of Paiôn unconsciously, just skin and bones, paler than Hades and covered in wounds that were healing way too slowly.

“Dammit, Ares”, he grumbled, “What were you thinking? Taking on two Gigantes by yourself! You fucking idiot.”

He pushed his wheelchair next to the glass.

“You know, if someone had told me fifty years ago, that one day I would be visiting you in sickbay, I would've called them mad. I'm just glad that you and I got to reconcile, before this shit happened. One regret less I would've had, if you had actually died.”

He couldn't help but wonder, if the Akesian Sleep was dreamless or not. He hoped it was, because if not, Ares would certainly be trapped in unending nightmares about what he had gone through.

“You probably can't hear me, but … we're missing you. Hard to believe, huh? But it feels kinda too quiet and empty without you. Maybe you won't believe it, but we care about you, deep down, even though you're a prick.”

He chuckled bitterly: “I know exactly, what you would say now: 'If you care, then why did it take you over a year to find me?' Well, and you're right. I guess it took this crap for us to realise. Don't get me wrong, we still don't like you. And as soon as you recover, you'll probably still be a huge prick, albeit one with major issues and traumata. So that'll be a thing.”

With a last sigh, he turned his wheelchair to leave.

“Get well soon, okay?”

.

In a rare fit of generosity Zeus even allowed Ares' best friend Eris to visit, on the condition that she and her kin wouldn't wreak havoc.

Eris was sour about the condition, but agreed.

So she, her children and the Keres were uncharacteristically quiet, as Asklepios allowed them in one by one.

Eris was the last in line, letting her children and sisters go first.

They left Olympos right after making their sickbed visits, knowing better than to overstay their welcome.

But Eris lingered. She couldn't just leave a postcard and go, not with Ares.

.

It was almost nightfall, when Athena found the Mother of Woes still stand in front of the healing tank.

The abhorred daughter of Nyx looked oddly subdued. Her mane of tousled black and white hair and her black wings were drooping.

As Athena was about to make herself known, Eris spoke: “He was me charge, back when he was a wee kid.”

“I know. Hera told me, that you were his nurse first and then his guardian”, Athena answered softly.

“Did she also tell ya, why I became his guardian later on?”

The younger goddess had to admit, that Hera had left that detail out.

“He an' the Horai were born still durin' the Titanomakhia. Everyone says it lasted ten years, but that's Olympian Years. An' despite all the commotion, Zeus still had time ta fall for and marry first yer mother, then Themis, then Hera, who is now his queen. Mortals an' younger gods think it 'appened later, but they're wrong.”

One Olympian Year was a mortal decade, Athena knew. So the war had actually lasted a hundred years? And why was Eris telling her this?

The personification of strife chuckled: “Neanderthals and mammoths an' such were still around. Ares loved playin' with 'em. Ye know, when I first met 'im, he was such a wee laddie, he didn't even reach up to me hip.”

That was hard to imagine; Ares was a quite tall man and had been lanky even when Athena had met him as a preteen. Eris was rather slight and dwarfish in comparison.

“He was, like, seven. I found it a bit weird, 'cuz I already had been his nurse before. Bu' when Hera told me the situation, of course I said aye.”

“Why did Hera make you his guardian?”, Athena finally asked.

The Daimona scowled: “She tol' me he'd been kidnapped by Kronos an' his cronies. They did sum' really sick shite ta him, if ye know what I mean.”

Suddenly the goddess of wisdom felt like she was going to puke.

Eris sighed: “'Course he was traumatised. An' ya know yer father's attitude about that shite.”

“Yes, I do”, Athena nodded soberly. Zeus was the biggest arsehole in that regard (and a lot of others, but that was irrelevant right now).

“Anyway, Hera could nae 'andle him, so she gave 'im back into me care. She knew he'd be safe wi' me. No one likes me, so they would nae come ta me lookin' fer him. Turned out he still remembered me; always had a really good memory, he had. Leapt right into me arms. I took care o' him fer three years, then Eileithyia was born an' he wanted to go back. I helped him cope wi' the trauma an' taught him how ta fly an' deal wi' the voice in his head.”

So she knows about it too.

Eris finally turned to face Athena.

Her ghostly white face was grim and her gleaming red eyes were hard. Her spidery claws balled into fists.

“Listen ta me, Daughter o' Metis. Ares is like a son ta me. When ye asked me help to put down the Aloiadai, I asked fer nothin' in return. Tartaros, if I was as strong as ye, I would've ripped them apart with me bare hands.”

Athena nodded, knowing what Eris was going to ask of her.

“Ye know exactly what I want from ye. Don't evah go easier on 'im than ye did before and don't evah mention, what I just told ye. But promise me this: whether ye hate him or nae, whether ye two are allies or adversaries, I wan' ye to prevent this from e'er happenin' again. Keep an eye on 'im, lassie, aye?”

Athena nodded solemnly.

“By the waters that drip from the river Styx, you have my word.”

.

---

.

1) Latôios: "Son of Leto", one of Apollon's epithets 2) Gamelion: the first winter month in the Attic calendar (Januar/February), dedicated to Hera. At the end of this month, the Hieros Gamos was celebrated, in honour of Zeus' and Hera's marriage. 3) Paiôn: "The Healer", an epithet of Apollon and Asklepios. 4) Kouros: an early to mid teenage boy. 5) Hekatonkheires: the "Hundred-Handed Ones", three giants with a hundred hands and fifty heads each. They were imprisoned in Tartaros by their father Ouranos after birth, much to the outrage of their mother Gaia. Kronos later freed them, but re-imprisoned them, after finding them no longer useful. Eventually they were freed permanently by Zeus and in return helped him defeat the Titanes. 6) The Akesian Sleep, or sleep of healing, is my invention. It's a reference to the Stygian Sleep, but a healing sleep instead of a sleep of death. 7) Dodekatheoi: Twelve Gods, another name for the twelve Olympians.

[thegreencircleone]

A Belated 10/10 Story

The Girl from Out of Town.

((Eloni gets hit on/hits on someone.))

October 10th, 9 pm. Officially 1010’s 6th birthday.

It was between a few big events; but honestly from looking at Eloni, the green Android, one could not tell. October 10th was a big night for 1010, but it was one of Eloni’s favorite nights in general (apart from maybe new-years)... Even now he wandered to-and-fro speaking with guests, introducing himself, even pairing people off with other dancers.

A robot’s job was never truly done, but Eloni lived for this! 1010 loved to party, but Eloni in particular loved THIS party. He loved the formal wear, the excuse to get gussied up, the copious amounts of booze and alcohol, the exorbitant amount of food (though he couldn’t enjoy it). Right now he was waiting primarily for the game of croquembouche jenda- but as he did so he scanned the room for any negative or alarming emotions.

… And that is exactly what he found.

Bar.

Eloni slowly maneuvered his way in between throngs of party-goers toward the bar; his vision of the emotions causing the disturbance to his radar began to ping more completely. Anger was brewing loudly at the bar, though the cause remained a mystery. There was no fight, no arguing that he could detect; it seemed like the barely contained rage was simply stewing there on it’s own…

And then it’s source came into view.

At the bar sat a woman with vibrant yellow skin, brownish hair with streaks of medium blond curled into a loose, low, and messy bun at her neck. Her jewelry was simple and ornate, but hung close to her body aside from her sequined headband and row of pearls that hung in a knot all the way down to her navel, and her dress was an old-fashioned tabard-style dress of white and sequined gold and copper. She looked less like a party-goer, and more like a run-away or jilted bride.

She was stunning, even if you didn’t have a thing for the art-deco look… Or her pretty, pissy face as she slowly sipped whatever drink she had in that martini glass. This mystery woman also did not look like she was a typical party-guest for the 1010 crowd.

Eloni needed to intervene.

And that’s just what he was going to do.

Eloni slid up to the bar-stool right beside her. “You know;” he began with an earnest grin. “I thought the Captain turned off the time-machine before the party.”

The mystery woman stopped, looked up at him and gave him a dubious scowl. For a moment they stared at each other in mutual silence as the heartbeat of the EDM around them did some of the talking for them.

She locked eyes with her as she took a pointed sip from her glass as he started to continue.

“Hey. Name’s Elo-” but the Android stopped his sentence half-way through as he realized something much more interesting to talk about. “Oh wow. Your eyes are pretty.”

The woman continued to sip her drink, this time her brows knit in confusion. Beneath fluttering, heavily eye-lined lashes and golden eye-shadowed lids lay a set of perfectly vibrant emerald eyes- with a ring of ultra-light purple around her pupils.

Finally, she spoke. “That’s it?” she asked. “... I thought y’were some sorta robo-casanova. You pick up most skirts like this?”

Eloni was flabbergasted.

“I mean- I…” he blinked as he tried to unpack what all the heck she just said. “Oh. OH, no. I’m not- I’m not a lady-killer. That’s uh- that’d be my brother. He’s… Uh…” Eloni felt his shoulders ride up in awkward embarrassment as he gestured elsewhere. “I just… Uh. I didn’t greet you as you came in and you seemed really mad, and I thought I’d come over to… You know?”

“Shoot the shit?”

“... Help?” Eloni offered, smiling. “What are you drinking? Where are you from? You don’t sound like you’re from around here.”

From where he sat the woman’s ire retreated noticeably. She was still angry, but now she was more… Uncomfortable than angry. Well… No. Mostly angry… She just wasn’t the rage-filled time-bomb waiting to go off.

She looked back to Eloni, who by now was leaning halfway over the bar, trying his best to be suave. He thought for a moment that her anger retreated entirely-- and then the rage was back.

She let out an audible noise, crossed her legs the opposite direction from him and returned to her drink. “One; if this is your attempt to get me to say by boozin’ me up; don’t bother. It’s lemonade, sugar. Two; you just insulted my dress. Why the heck’d I’d tell ya where I’m from?”

Eloni sat up. “What? Nooo. I didn’t- I didn’t mean to insult your-” he gave her a once-over again. 1010 wasn’t really programmed to oggle fans, at least not discriminate, but Eloni still found her sense of style utterly different and definitely worth looking at. The dress, be it old-fashioned definitely fit her pretty well, and upon closer inspection it wasn’t white; but a very pale yellow. She looked and talked like a gangsters wife from some of those old mob movies.

“My eyes are up here, birthday boy.”

“Sorry!” he said on instinct.

The mystery woman turned around in her seat and finally looked at him again. “Don’t’cha have some fan to flirt with?” she asked. “Doubtless this is comfortable for you.”

Eloni smiled a little more. “Try me! My prime directive is to make sure all our fans have a good time at our birthday party!... Annnnd you seem dead-set on being pissed.”

The woman gave him a disbelieving look and crossed her arms, letting her drink sit on the counter empty. “Butter my scotch n’ call me in the mornin’, you ain’t gunna give up on this, are ya?”

“I’m programmed to make people smile!” Eloni insisted, sitting up straight and giving a little, informal salute. “Noooo frowns on my birthday!”

“Uh-huh…”

Eloni relaxed and leaned a little closer to her. “So, seriously baby. If I’m bothering you; I can always get one of my brothers. I’m not the popular one, but you say the word! All I want is a smile from you, and it’d be the best birthday gift.”

“Ppft,” the woman dismissed, but then she got a little quiet. “... No offense…” she said quietly. “... I’m flattered, but, seriously. You should go try to flirt with one of your fans, okay?” she asked. “It’s sweet you’re trying to make me feel better, but it’s not going to do much for me.”

“SiiiiSTER!” came a bombastic voice from right behind them. “Sister, I have procured the caviar and blinnies! You are correct! They are-” Eloni turned around to see a man with long, straight blond hair with stripes of green, but the strangest thing about this man was not his hair- but the goggles worn on his face.

The moment that Eloni saw the man seemed to be the moment the man saw him in return. There he stood, knees slightly bent with two plates filled with the aforementioned hors d'oeuvres on little plastic plates.

“OH. A 1010!... I will- uhh… I’ll just.”

“Zeebs, it’s fine…” the woman said, turning around and sliding off. “We were just going anyway.”

Eloni spun to follow her with his eyes. He should have just dropped it- everything in his code should have told him to stop his pursuit of this faraway, foul-mouthed, foreigner… But it was his birthday, dang it.

“You know; it’s rude to come to the party and ignore the birthday-boy!”

The pair stopped. The man with the goggles; (Zeebs wasn’t it?) turned around and let out a low and singular laugh. “It’s rude to harass a troubled woman! You don’t see her complaining!”

The woman held up her hand to her companion, then glared back at Eloni. “Well, kill me softly with his song- for an NSR goon ya don’t give up, do ya?”

Oh! That was a musical reference… Actually it was two. The comment on being an NSR goon was a bit befuddling for a moment, but figured it had been because she plainly was not from Vinyl city.

Eloni saw her irritation flare, but all he could do was smile. By now their interaction had proven to become interesting to the people around them. “1010 never surrenders,” he recited.

The two unknown party guests stopped and seemed to survey the situation. Zeebs glanced around a little more frantically than his sister whose interesting gaze settled back onto the green android after a moment. “Oh my goood… What. Do. You. WANT from me? A smile?” she asked, not at all afraid to show she was still mad. “‘Cause I’ll have y’know:  I have a reason why I’m absolutely livid!”

“Sister… Ix-nay on the Ad-may…”

“Fuggit. We’re already here,” the woman said back at him. “Go on, birthday boy. What’ll it take for you to let me skip town in peace?”

Eloni stood up, stretching out to his ten foot height. “If you weren’t here for my birthday; you should have made an appointment!” he chided, watching the face of this mystery-woman’s flinch with embarrassment. “Tonight’s my night! A night to pAaRrTty~” he hummed musically. “What sort of party would it be without dancing?”

The woman paused, her face still scrunched in disbelief before she turned to her brother. “... Hold my purse,” she instructed softly, turning back to Eloni with a little stomp. “Alright, soldier-boy,” she said lifting a finger up at his face… From allllll the way down there. At least five feet down. “You get ONE. Dance. After that, and I’m gone. No ifs, ands, or buts.”

Eloni studied her emotions for a moment. She was still… Mad, but she was almost acting comically pissy. To liken it to something easier to explain- if red was anger and yellow was happiness, then her emotions teetered on a pale orange. She was just as happy to be pursued as she was angry it was him.

Eloni leaned down. “Sure, baby. I can make one dance count.”

There came a tart snort from the woman below him. “Oh,” she laughed… Then slowly her anger receded a little more. “Oh. I’m gunna fucking run you into the ground, you sentient lamp-post.”

It was a threat. It was playful. It was a challenge… It tickled him.

Eloni let out an equally incredulous laugh. “Can you even… Dance in that thing?” he asked, taking in the nearly floor-length gown.

But surprisingly the woman forced a smile, grabbed Eloni by his suit jacket and started dragging him off to the dance floor. “Quit talkin’. Move ya gams.”

Eloni let out another chuckle as he watched the woman drag him out to the dance floor. The anger was practically no longer there. Only tracings remained; but emotions didn’t necessarily just stop because you had moved on: they lingered. This stranger had some fight back in her, but it seemed she was enjoying this more than not.

“So aggressive, baby~”

The woman looked back up at him. “Don’t call me ‘baby’, sugar.”

“Don’t call me ‘sugar’, doll.”

“Don’t call me ‘doll’, either.” By the time Eloni was dragged back into the dancing fray the woman had turned around and snapped to, heels he hadn’t had the chance to see snapping to as she readied herself. “You swing, darling?”

Oh. Oh he didn’t entirely know how to respond to that.

“... I’ll take that as a-”

“I’ll match whatever you put out, ma’am,” he finally pushed out.

The woman finally seemed to regard him for a second, before shrugging, not looking at him straight in the face. “Mm. We’ll work on it,” she said, stepping close. “Ever dance with a partner?.... And I don’t suppose you can use your super robot powers to play a good swing number?”

Eloni…Wasn’t entirely sure what happened after that. All he did was look up towards the DJ booth where Subatomic was playing his fair share of music and sent in a request, message hurried and likely missing a few vowels. He didn’t care.

“... So, uh,” Eloni started. “Uh, I’m sorry. I’m not normally this brave…” he said. “Or. Uh this pushy…”

The woman cocked her hips and shimmied a bit closer. “It’s your birthday,” she excused. “... And it was kinda rude of me to stop and not say hi, at least, so. Two-fer-two, darling.”

Eloni blinked again as DJ came through- birthday boy requests were high on the chain of command. Soon the sound of electric-pumped ragtimey-toons pounded through the air… That’s when it was all a blur.

1010 was designed to dance, yeah, but new dances took a lot of concentration and coding on the part of the Droids AI. Eloni and his brothers were great with their dance routines, but sometimes their personal dancing skills were hit-or-miss… Even then Eloni liked to think his long legs would hit those swing-high kicks; but he was nothing on this woman. Sheer fabric and  high-heels were competing with him faster than he had ever seen…It wasn’t a quarter into the dance that his lead was entirely taken over by her.

It was a situation he had no idea was coming; a woman half his size beating him at dancing. A HUMAN woman practically running him into the ground… It was a lot, it was an endless barrage of legs and shimmies…

It was pretty great.

Just as soon as the song had started; it had ended, Eloni was practically bent over and the mystery woman was done. Off she trotted in her high-heels to re-join her worried looking brother with a completely enraptured Eloni to follow her.

“W-wait. What’s your-” but before Eloni could finish the question or even grab her attention- he felt his hydraulic knee buckle- and land him square onto a nearby table.

Plasticware and plates flew to the floor and Eloni struggled to keep his holographic head above a pool of spilled rose and champagne. When people rushed him to see what was wrong he gazed around.

The Mystery Woman and her brother were gone.... Well. At least he made her smile!

[superrobotmonkeyteamramblingsgo]

With the hindsight that is the Golden Age episode, the monkeys behavior in The Lord of Soturix 7 is really...weird? And kinda disturbing?

In Soturix 7 the monkeys act like, well, monkeys and that includes not recognizing Chiro. They all run away from him and only warm up to him when he does something in return, whether it is having food for them (Otto and Sprx) or protecting them fro predators (Gibson and Antauri). Heck, Nova was ready to fight him because he didn’t do anything to earn her alliance at that point, as far as she was aware in that state.

Chiro says the monkeys act that way due to he computers in their brains being shut down. So we are lead to assume that is what they would act like as normal monkeys. But then two season later Golden Age shows us exactly how they acted before.

Let reflect in what Golden Age shows us about pre-Robot monkeys. We see inklings of there personality: we see Gibson giving the Alchemist a computer chip for the Silver Monkey, we see Antauri meditating, we see Sprx teasing Nova by grabbing her tail, and Nova getting mad about it but also being adorable with the Alchemist.  

(The biggest problem with Golden Age is that we don’t get a baby Otto moment)

And while Soturix 7 has the monkeys running away from Chiro in the beginning, Golden Age shows them running towards humans, such as when they all run towards the Alchemist when Captain Shuggazoom comes to visit. And we also see Antauri run towards the Captain for comfort after the portal instance.

It just seems that the baby monkeys we see in Golden Age are more...cognitive? (I think that is the word I’m looking for). Sure, it Soturix 7 they show Chiro how to look under rocks for food and dig holes to keep warm at night, but that is pretty typical animal stuff to do. Not on the same level as knowing what computer chip to give to help in building a silver robot. Or how about when Captain Shuggazoom ask Antauri what’s wrong and he points towards the Alchemist?

None of what we see of the monkeys in Soturix 7 seem capable of answering a question like that. As regular monkeys, they could remember humans like the Alchemist and Captain Shuggazoom, but once the computers were down they seemed to forget all about Chiro. And aside from Nova being absolutely feral, they don’t really have much in a way of differing personality either.

TL:DR, the monkeys behaving in Soturix 7 is not just due to their computers, as Golden Age shows. So then why do they act that way?

Maybe it is because of the computers, the trade off for higher intelligence being that it messes with their brain so much that without it they are just like that.

Or is it the Power Primate? As the idol things also interfered with that as well as the computers. But that would mean that the baby monkeys in Golden Age had the Power Primate...which might be possible given that the Alchemist knew about the Veran Mystics...but has the Power Primate ever been shown to boost intelligence?

[ngame989]

“Change” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 3

Writing: @ngame989​​

Art: @toxicpsychox​​ (make sure to follow him for bonus pics from the story!)

Editing: @bmc-nightfury​​, @seddm​​

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Star, Marco, Tom, and Janna celebrate Earthni's first Halloween and get a taste of what life's like for the rest of its inhabitants.

Comic Page

Masterpost

See below for the text, hope you enjoy! Sorry for the delay, we’ll be back in a few days with the comic page!

Flying was one of the most exhilarating feelings for Marco Diaz. He flung his arms out to the side, letting the wind ripple around and through his hair, his face, and the open front of his hoodie. With a world this beautiful and vast, who even needs the hoodie, anyway? It’s just weighing him down, preventing him from truly feeling as free as he knows he can be. He shifted positions, dramatically discarding the hoodie and feeling the crisp autumn air on his upper body through only the thin grey t-shirt. Suddenly it struck him: how exactly was he flying without Nach-

“Pfffthbtbt, Marco, what the heck?!? You got hoodie stuck in my teeth!”

Marco tried to glance at the familiar voice that interrupted his thoughts, but he was blinded by the sun gleaming in the purple sky. His arms instinctively were brought up to shield his vision. Wait, Marco realized, hadn’t he been holding on to something? Panic set in, both at the feeling of losing something important and at not even being able to recall what it was. It was uncanny, the moments he’d just experienced felt as vague and distant as anything he’d experienced in the Neverzone...

The view of the stunning Earthni landscape beneath him was obscured by a massive dangling ribbon in front of him, disrupting his contemplation. It was utterly tantalizing, almost demanding his attention. He shifted positions, reaching forward as far as he could to catch it, tugging the ribbon to his body and wrapping himself up in it, nestling deeper into his fabric cocoon and feeling briefly at ease. Wait, where exactly was he again? Something felt off, but the unnerving thought dissipated entirely once more at the soft touch on his head. Two large fingers tousled his hair to and fro, giving him a sense of contentment he didn’t know was possible. A glance skyward revealed the face of a giant Star Butterfly towering over him with a soft smile as she pet his head in the safety of a pocket sewn into her narwhal dress. Did that dress even have a pocket? And how was he here? Why was Star so big? As his mind sluggishly tried to work out what wasn’t gelling about the whole situation, his gaze followed their ribbon higher and higher until it finally reached the red balloon guiding them through the sky.

“OK, Marco, payback time!” she shouted with glee, flicking her head and whipping a tuft of flowing golden hair directly into his face.

“Bleh, Star, your hair… ptooey, Star, your hair is in my mouth… Get it out… Star? Star! Star!”

…

His eyes snapped open, senses on high alert, rapidly regaining his full cognitive faculties. He felt a light sheet draped on top of him; he was in bed, in his pajamas, with no hoodie or jeans in sight. Something large was still wrapped in his arms, but this time there was a warmth and softness that invited him to snuggle in deeper. The last thing he noticed is that his face was still completely buried in blonde tresses, and it all clicked.

“Thanks Roy, these goblin dogs zzz are absolutely zzz deliiiiiicioooouuus zzzzzzzzz”

“Star...”

“Why yes, I would like to try strawberry-flavored zzzzzzz”

“Staaaaaaar… wake up. It’s almost...” He tried and failed to peek around the veritable curtain in his face. “I don’t actually know what time it is, but we should still get up, today’s the day!”

“Totally, totally, totally, just 5 more minutes, Marco… 5 more hours…”

Marco sighed and lifted his head, freeing his face from the hairific onslaught and sighing into the crook of her neck. The leftover hint of strawberry shampoo danced through his nose, infatuating him as he pulled Star closer and felt the silky fabric of her gown softly graze his hands. She laughed and cast aside her favorite teal pillow with a heart she had been holding, gripping his arms instead, both enjoying each other’s company and affection - a fairly common occurrence these days.

Three months of this kind of paradise. Well, close to it, anyway; that first night on Earthni had been a one-off incident at the time, but it still hadn’t been long until unintentional movie marathon naps became slightly less unintentional and eventually moved to the comfort of one of their beds altogether, allowing them to spend nights in each other’s arms and sleep in at their leisure. And why not? They had all the time in the world. Marco was technically done with high school, and Star certainly wasn’t that upset that there wasn’t a fully integrated school system for Earthni quite yet. Besides, formalized education wasn’t much of a thing on Mewni anyway, and she wasn’t a “foreign exchange student” bound by Echo Creek’s norms anymore in this new world of theirs. They’d answered a few questions to the public about the Cleaving and spent a bit of time in the limelight, of course, but otherwise they were finally free of the burdens that had been on their shoulders for most of the time they’d known each other. It was the summer vacation they’d longed for, even though the season had passed them by long ago.

Suddenly, a knock at his door interrupted their bliss. “Star, Marco! Lunch is almost ready!” Angie sing-songed through his door. That woke both of them up - not because his mother had caught them innocently canoodling the night away, as that boat had sailed a while ago with a fairly predictable acceptance (though not without some teasing), but because lunch? How long had they slept in? Star bumped into Marco’s forehead when she bolted upright, startling him so much that he backed up off the bed into a heap on the floor.

“Marco! Gosh, Marco, I’m sorry-”

“M’okay,” he groaned, letting her help him uncrumple his body and stand up straight. They scrambled around the room to gather the discarded boxes of Sugar Seeds from the night before and shared their usual quick good morning kiss before splitting off to get ready for the big day ahead of them. Ten minutes later, Star emerged from her room with one of her older dresses, sky blue with two belts minus the fuzzy leg warmers, and skipped over to the stairs to slide down the railing into the dining room where Marco was already seated. Angie brought turkey sandwiches on the table.

“Good morning, you two. Sleep well?”

“We were up waaaay too late marathoning the new season of Fiesta de la Noche. I think it was the Sugar Seeds, please never buy the ‘Oops! All Corn Syrup!’ flavor again.” Marco winced at the lingering stomach pain.

“It’s sugar made from corn, why would you ever think I wouldn’t buy it?” Star scolded, adding some table sugar from the shaker the Diazes had repurposed for Star (leading to a few accidentally ruined dinners in the first week) to the fruit salad on the plate.

He playfully rolled his eyes and dug into his meal. “So, mom, where’s dad?” he mumbled out between bites.

“BOO!” No one even flinched at Rafael’s entrance from the back door.

Marco groaned. “Dad, are you trying to scare everyone again this year?”

“Haha, no, Marco. Last year I thought, ‘Why go for scary when nothing could ever top a hungering spirit almost devouring your loved ones, sending you into a manic frenzy?’ But then a lightbulb struck me on the head: I can simply bring joy and happiness instead of reopening the wounds of the most traumatic night of my life, haha!” Marco vacantly boggled at his father for a few silent moments, trying and failing to find any possible words in response, but there was no need as Rafael spoke up again. “Oh, and River is helping too!”

As if on cue, Star’s dad barreled through the back door dripping sweat. “I’m a riot with the youngsters, this will be a blast! Rafael, my good man, thank you so much for inviting me to participate in your culture’s festivities. Now how far would you like the catapult to fire the children?”

Rafael nervously chuckled as he lead River out the back door; the families got along swimmingly, but it was clear that neither had fully adjusted to every idiosyncrasy of the other. Marco and Star, having just finished the last of their lunches, followed out the back door and gaped at the spectacle. A giant corn maze occupied at least half of the massive property the Diazes now occupied, catapults of varying sizes had been built with landing pads, a few carnival-looking booths stocked with buckets of candy were set up with games Marco didn’t even recognize, and it was all topped off with decorative ghouls and skeletons scattered all around. The teens’ eyes bugged out of their heads as they processed the scene. How the heck did they sleep through the assembly of all of this? An instantly recognizable revving sound approached from the side; Marco’s eyes lit up as he ran over and gave his favorite dragon-cycle a big hug.

“Oh, Boo-Boo, good to see you!” he cooed, affectionately stroking her scaly head while she purred. A few weeks ago, she spotted him by chance in Monstertown while they were helping Eclipsa finish up some new housing, and after a tearful reunion the Diazes (who were a bit apprehensive upon finally learning what a dragon-cycle actually was) had built a stable in their backyard for her. She came and went as she pleased, but was more than happy to ride with Marco like they always had, occasionally with Star in tow.

Rafael approached and tentatively patted her on the head once, which caused her to defensively nuzzle into Marco. “By the way, Nachos asked if she could help us tonight with the Halloween chicanery and maybe give the kids some little joyrides… if that is OK with you.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet of you, girl!” Marco cooed. River hollered excitedly at Star and Rafael to show them his latest contraption, leaving Marco alone with his companion. His warm gaze turned steely in an instant as he knelt to the ground, looking directly into pink reptilian pupils of his dearest dragon-cycle.

“Thanks for doing this for me, Nachos, I owe you one. Remember the plan, OK? Keep an eye on them and keep everyone in one piece. You have my number if anything goes wrong, right?” She matched his serious demeanor and nodded sternly, at which he softened and kissed her on the forehead before scratching that spot on her neck that she always enjoyed. “I can always count on you, girl.” He stood up quickly to prevent any suspicion when he heard Star chatting to their dads as they approached the house once more.

“OK, dad, try not to have too much fun tonight. Last Halloween I was here, everyone almost got eaten.”

“No promises, sweetie!”

Star waved goodbye with a cheery grin before turning to Marco, eyes widening while maintaining the grin for an exaggeratedly concerned effect. Marco snickered and took her hand, heading back inside the house for their next mission. With all the shenanigans going on tonight, everyone decided it was best for Mariposa to not be in the house, so Star had volunteered to take her with them tonight, which meant she’d need a costume. The pair split apart to gather their supplies for the task. Star took a quick peek into the nursery and found Marco’s angel of a baby sister fast asleep in her crib, fortunately not disturbed by all the happenings around the house. Star went into Marco’s room and cleared off the floor for them to work, mere seconds before a big ball of purple fluff barged through the door.

“Can you believe that girl at the fabric store?” the bundle scoffed, revealing itself to be Marco after unceremoniously dumping piles of fabric and sewing supplies on the ground. “How can you not tell the difference between lavender and heliotrope? It’s so obvious! Even with the swatches from Turdina I’m still not sure if these are the right colors, and I will not settle for anything less than perfection for my little Turdinita-”

“OK, Marco,” Star huffed out. Like everything he did, it was still cute when he entered diva mode, but it was still near the top of the annoyance list. She rolled her eyes and grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him downwards and pecking him on the lips - mostly to shut him up - before putting a finger on his chest and pushing him onto his bottom in front of her. “Let’s get this done, OK? I know that you and Tom are gonna take, like, an hour on the makeup for your costumes.”

“Our trial run clocked in at 44 minutes sharp,” he retorted with a smirk, laying the sewing pattern out to start arranging the fabric. Minutes turned to hours as they toiled away, carefully picking out the colors and textures from the vast selection of cloth Marco had procured. Star was no slouch at the craft - she had decorated Marco’s cape by hand, after all - but every time she glanced over at Marco pouring his entire self into every thread and sequin, she couldn’t help but smile.

Marco carefully balanced a pin between his teeth, holding it up to make sure the design was coming together, then put it down to see Star dreamily staring at him. “Uh, Star? Is something up?”

“N-nothing,” she stammered in response, preparing the accessories for the finishing touches.

“Hey, I just realized… you still haven’t even told me what your costume is yet!” He handed the fabric over to her to begin cleaning up the massive mess of scrap around his person.

“I did tell you it’s a surprise, and I’m sticking to that! You and Tom went all gung-ho on the whole ‘bullfighting’ thing from the beginning. A girl’s gotta have her secrets, Diaz!”

“OK, OK,” he held up his hands in surrender, “I’m sure it will be amazing. Anyway, how does the dress look?”

Star scooted over beside him and held up the frilly purple outfit in front of them, flipping it over and around to get the full view. “Looks like a job well done to me!”

Marco’s eyes glistened at the sight. This whole thing had been his idea, wanting to make his baby sister’s first Halloween something special even if she wouldn’t remember it (there would be ample photographic evidence, his parents would make sure of that). But in some way it was also his way of commemorating his old life and what they’d left behind. Although Star had perhaps been the most dramatically affected by the Cleaving, losing the magic she’d known all her life, he had his own friends and adventures across the multiverse too. Earthni was special in its own unique way, and he certainly wouldn’t trade it for anything, but he didn’t want to forget the parts of his life he’d left behind. Shutting his eyelids and taking a deep breath and feeling a bit of moisture squeeze out, he wrapped an arm around Star, pulling her into his side. “Thanks for helping me with this, you didn’t have to-”

“Marco, you know I’d do anything for Mariposa. And it’s fun just spending time making stuff together!”

“We are pretty good at this, aren’t we?”

“Eh, I’d give it a passing grade.” Marco and Star jumped to their feet striking a tag team battle pose in the direction of the unforeseen intruder... and found Janna sitting on Marco’s bed, surfing something on her phone which was rested on Star’s pillow without so much as looking at them in acknowledgment.

“Janna!?” Marco asked incredulously. “Wait, shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I told them I was half-demon after the whole Severing Stone thing and they ate that riiiight up, so I’m exempt from human school now.” He could do nothing but blink in disbelief. “Anyway, on my way over I saw your dads with both their shirts off for some reason and I really didn’t feel like dealing with that so I just snuck in through the window. Oh, and I brought Meteora, too.”

“Wait, what? Where is she then?”

“On your head.”

Marco looked up and saw Meteora clinging to the ceiling before staring directly down at him and dive bombing, taking them both to the floor and giggling at his expense. Star helped him up and took the baby from him, calming her relatively easily by virtue of not being Marco Diaz.

“OK, but Eclipsa didn’t tell us about this! Why do you even have her?”

“Look, guys, it’s not a huge deal. She needed some help this morning and your parents told her you two were ‘busy’,” she said, holding up the pillow in one hand with the air quotes, “so she called me instead. Some monsters were, I dunno, worried about Halloween a bit or something and Eclipsa was dealing with that but still wanted Meteora to go trick or treating.”

“So you’re saying that Eclipsa wants Mariposa to bring her back a lot of chocolate.”

“Bingo.”

Star pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “OK, fine, whatever. What’s this about being worried about Halloween?”

Janna shrugged her shoulders impassionately. “The whole schtick of Halloween is using the idea of monsters to try and scare people, and they’re a bunch of monsters who don’t want to be seen as scary.” She stood up and tossed her phone up and down a few times before slotting it into her pocket and finally addressing Star and Marco directly. “Whole thing’s a load of crud if you ask me, I’m totally down with monstery quirks. Plus you wouldn’t have to worry about costumes! Like, look at the munchkin there, she’s got pointed ears and a tail. It’s already better than anything I ever went trick-or-treating in.”

Meteora briefly stirred, as if picking up on the talk about her, and Star motioned everyone to the door with her head. The trio moved into the nursery quietly to put Meteora in the guest crib they kept around for her frequent visits, then went downstairs to continue their conversation.

“I mean… it can’t be that big of a deal, right? Costume parties were a thing on Mewni, too, and not everyone who showed up was a Mewman. I doubt it will be perfect, but everyone’s been getting along pretty well so far!” Star said with some emphatic hand-waving.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Marco responded. Admittedly, Marco wasn’t entirely sure. The residents of Echo Creek were generally pretty accepting, in his own experience, but it was never a certainty. Tensions could linger for a while unseen, and one could never know exactly when they’d boil over. But being with Star had taught him a lot about trying to see the best in the world, and he found himself able to share the overall feeling of optimism.

“Plus, I don’t think any kids are gonna climb all the stairs to the Temple,” Janna chimed in from the couch.

“That too,” Marco replied without looking away from Star. “It’s our first big holiday together, and- and I just want this night to be about us having a blast with all our friends and getting a whole truckload of candy!” he yelled triumphantly, taking Star’s hand. Her shining ocean pools focused entirely on him and blazed with the same determination he had.

“I’d tell you two to get a room, but...”

Marco’s eyes went wide as he blushed, causing Star to finally end their moment of emotional vulnerability with a contagious laugh (and light blush of her own) that Marco quickly joined. Once it subsided, Star took Marco’s other hand in hers. “Yeah, you’re right. Hopefully nothing too unexpected hap-”

The front door violent opened with a burst of flame and smoke entering through. Marco shrieked and leapt in fright, being caught and cradled by Star. What could possibly have done such a thing?

“Hey guys, how’s it hanging?”

Oh. That’s what. “Hey Tom,” Marco sighed out, hopping down from Star’s arms as the smoke cleared from his dramatic entrance and Tom closed the door behind him.

“Am I, uh, interrupting something?”

“Marco got freaked out when you burst open the door,” Janna ever-so-helpfully provided.

Tom raised an eyebrow at Marco judgmentally. “You’ve lived with Star for years, come on, dude.”

“I’m not on guard for it when she’s directly next to me!” he cried defensively with his voice cracking, extending his arms in her direction to punctuate his statement. “Anyway, Tom, you ready for the big night?”

“You know I am,” the half-demon responded, meeting Marco in the center of the room for a high-five. “Alright, we should get costumes ready. We’ll be in Marco’s room if you need us.” As they ascended the stairs, Marco caught Janna making some sort of comment about to Star about “stealing your man” - he shouldn’t have expected much different. As soon as they got into his room, he went into his closet to gather all their costume pieces as Tom shut the door. “I can’t believe you humans basically have a giant costume party once a year where everyone gets candy. I could probably, like, just walk around like normal and it would still count. That’s too cool.”

Marco sat them both down on his bed and began to wipe his face off. “Eh, it’s pretty tame usually. Two years ago, Star and Janna summoned a ghost that ate everyone and my dad had to wrestle it to get everyone back. The inside of his belly smelled like licorice, it was awful. But it was an interesting Halloween.”

“Hungry Larry?” Marco assented while beginning the first layer of foundation. Tom laughed and held Marco’s arms at bay while he regained his composure. “Not a demon curse, but I’m familiar. Of course it was those two. OK, man, you can’t tell me funny stories like that, we’ve gotta get this done and we don’t need any distractions.” Marco nodded, always happy to see someone share his dedication to the craft. Foundation, then outlines, then filling in with white… the process stretched on for minutes as the basic design became evident. He sat back to observe it from multiple angles. While Marco switched brushes to begin the detailing, Tom spoke up once more. “I’ll be honest, man, I was kinda surprised about this. Figured you and Star would do a couple costume or something.”

“This idea was too good to pass up, though. Plus, I thought it’d be cool to do something like this with you! I mean, you are one of my best friends,” Marco rubbed the back of his neck, realizing too late that he had had a bit of white face paint on his hand.

“Well, it’s super cool, so thanks.”

Once Marco put the finishing touches on, he held up a mirror for Tom. The reflection showed his face transformed into a skull with ornate patterns everywhere. When Marco had come up with the idea for bullfighting costumes, Tom had been pretty disturbed by the fact that the bulls were killed. Marco had to admit it was pretty cruel, but after learning about Día de los Muertos, Tom suggested an Underworld-themed bullfight (where the bulls were already dead). Tom offered a fist-bump which Marco proudly accepted, and then the two switched places to begin the process all over again.

As Tom reached over to grab the makeup, his eyes lingered on the pillow with a heart at the head of Marco’s bed. His eyes darted back and forth between the pillow, all three eyes widening. Marco followed his train of thought and- oh no. “Tom, it’s not what you think-”

Tom raised his hands defensively. “Dude, I won’t judge.”

Marco sighed. What did he do to deserve this all in one day? “It’s not like that- OK, it’s not like that that, just… yeah.”

Minutes ticked on in silence while the steps were redone on Marco’s own face. Foundation, white paint, highlights… It was only when Tom got to the final ornate decals that Tom spoke back up again after sketching the outline on Marco’s face. “For the record, I know we haven’t really talked about it much but when I told you I was cool with you two getting together, I wasn’t just bottling stuff up or anything, OK? Yeah, breakups suck, but I’m pretty sure after a day or so my mom was taking it harder than me,” he chuckled with a toothy grin. “I know we haven’t, like, talked about it much since then, but you two are perfect for each other. I’m happy that you’re happy, dude, and more importantly I’m happy with myself too.” Words stopped once more as Tom focused to finish the pattern, showing Marco his own face in the mirror much to his delight. Everything came together flawlessly, and even faster than they’d anticipated. Marco breathed a sigh of relief at still managing to accomplish everything they needed to before trick-or-treating officially began. Part of that relief, he had to admit, was due to Tom’s words as well. Of course he didn’t think Tom resented him or anything, but knowing that they weren’t just “cool” but completely free of any potential past baggage felt like a weight off his shoulders. Marco leaned in and gave Tom a one-armed hug, clapping him on the back. “I take it you’re happy with the makeup job?” Tom joked.

“Well, your contouring is flawless. But it was mostly for the other stuff.”

“Anytime, man,” Tom responded, punching his shoulder lightly with a smile.

“Alright, costume time.”

***

“Star, seriously, do I have to do this?”

“Trick-or-treating starts in a few minutes, so too late nooo-oow!” Star sing-songed, bouncing over to the top of the stairs. “Are you boys down there?”

“Yeah,” she heard both Tom and Marco reply from the living room downstairs.

“Alright, Janna, it’s showtime!” Star grabbed her hesitant friend by the wrist and practically dragged her down the stairs. “Introduciiiiiiiing… Starberry!” She twirled in place once for effect, showing off her full body strawberry suit complete with themed headband and boots, then pulled Janna out from behind her, who had her hand on her forehead. “And Janna Banana!” She’d begrudgingly put on the main banana costume but had vehemently declined to wear the rest of the ensemble Star had picked out for her, sticking with her normal outfit instead, which Star was willing to accept.

Marco and Tom stared wide-eyed for a moment, turning to each other, then the girls, then to each other again, then back to the girls, mouths agape.

“How… what… wuh…” they both stammered incoherently, before bursting into raucous laughter, holding onto each other just to stay standing.

“God this is stupid,” Janna grumbled under her breath.

Star waited until they were done before explaining herself. “OK, so remember that night at D&D where Janna bet me I couldn’t beat the cyclops horde and I did?”

“You were only able to do that because you, and I quote, ‘rolled for cuteness check’ so they’d adopt you instead and Ferguson allowed it for some reason.”

“Well, maybe it’s because my character is incredibly cute!”

“Your character is just an elvish Marco.”

“Exactly. Anyway, since you guys were already doing your own thing for Halloween, I thought Janna and I would, too! Fruit Friends!” Star shrilled, hugging Janna and wiggling her back and forth.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Well, you both look great,” Marco giggled, walking over and flicking the strawberries on Star’s headband. “Where did you get this?”

“Dad helped me make it. He’s surprisingly good at arts and crafts. You two look pretty nice yourself.”

“Thanks. Tom wouldn’t wear the rest of the costume, though, but it’s still OK.”

“I’m not wearing a full body fursuit, Marco. But I can definitely do that thing bulls do in cartoons,” he coolly smirked, before blowing a puff of smoke with a bit of flame from his nostrils. Tom had a large nose ring and a bushy tip on top of his tail, but otherwise was wearing a pretty standard dark jacket on top of a maroon button-up shirt with dark slacks.

Star turned back to her boyfriend, looking his flashy getup up and down. “You look pretty nice yourself, Diaz,” she crooned playfully. “Although you missed out on the opportunity to be Mango Diaz for the night, bub.” The skull-themed makeup was absolutely divine, as she expected from the boys - they were frankly better at it than her. The ornate gold decorations all over the jacket and high-waisted pants looked sharp on top of the red base, and she was never one to complain about a nice white dress shirt and black tie, either. “Heh, I don’t want to mess up the makeup but-”

Marco cut her off with a brief kiss, taking her by pleasant surprise, and when her eyes fluttered back open he gave her a half-lidded stare and a smug grin. “Don’t worry, we used sealer.”

Janna moaned at the couple and slumped onto the couch. “Let’s just go get candy already.”

“Are you kids leaving soon?” Rafael poked him head out from the kitchen, making a comical “oh” face upon seeing all the costumes. “Darling, come look at how wonderful these costumes are!”

Angie quickly joined with the babies in tow, oohing and aahing over all the outfits. “Let’s get a quick picture before you leave, shall we?” The babies crawled over to the teens as they struck a pose for the camera. Her best friends - well, besides Ponyhead, who had blown them off for a special edition of her show tonight - all together having fun on holidays? It was exactly the life she’d been wanting for herself for a while. Stump Day was the last time they’d done anything like that, and even then it was riddled with strife and tension, but it filled her with a genuine warmth to know this would be the norm now. Or maybe that was just the not-that-breathable costume. Tom let out a yelp when Mariposa tugged on his tail, clapping in glee at the response.

“Guess that’s our signal to go,” he said in a strained voice, scooping up Mariposa and handing her to Marco who had just put on his baby carrier before she could pull at the nose ring. Meteora, meanwhile, seemed content to nest in the leaves of her strawberry outfit. They all grabbed their bags and headed out the door.

The night started off fairly uneventful; they collected candy going door to door, and most of the Echo Creek residents were quite impressed by the costumes and especially by Tom’s pyrotechnics. They passed a few monster families wandering around - her favorite was a centipede-looking monster that had an elaborate assembly of dolls mounted onto her body to make it look like a bunch of humans in a conga line. Once they had stopped at every house in the immediate neighborhood, their bags were fairly full already, so they decided to take some time and go explore looking for decorations for a while before stuffing their bags to capacity too early. The group headed towards some of the more blended areas of the merged town (still colloquially referred to as Echo Creek by most of the population) to see how all the different groups were celebrating the spooky festivities. Star and Marco were walking hand-in-hand with the babies in their care, just taking in the sights and enjoying the company, while Tom and Janna were chatting beside Marco.

“Janna, I’m telling you, that isn’t a real thing!”

“C’mon now Tom, I have three different necronomicons that reference it.”

“Grandpa Relicor goes on for hours about curses at every single family dinner and he’s never mentioned anything that could turn a human inside out.”

“Maybe he’s keeping it for himself. Did you ever think of that?”

“I’m sorry that I don’t think about turning humans inside out all that often! Look, we can just head to his library sometime and- wait, hold on. Star, isn’t this where we got kidnapped that one time?”

Star snapped out of her daze and looked around; they were in the old monster village! Star had been so busy during the last stretch of her time on Mewni that she hadn’t even gotten to visit it once some of the monster families came back, and Buff Frog had come over to visit them a few times on Earthni but she hadn’t been sure exactly where his home was. She motioned for the group to follow her while she looked for the right hut… There! They walked up to the door and knocked.

“Go away! We do not want any!”

“Buff Frog, it’s me!”

The door flung open and Star was immediately swept up into a giant bear hug. “Star Butterfly, my little sweet potato! It has been so long! Come in, all of you. What brings you to my home, and why are dressed like weird red plant with many eyes?”

“It’s Halloween, we’re trick-or-treating!”

“What is this ‘Halloween’ of which you speak?”

This caught Star off-guard. It had been posted all over town and in the newspapers, hadn’t it? After all, there were plenty of monsters she’d seen celebrating tonight already.

“Um, well, it’s an Earth holiday where people put on costumes and walk around to other people’s houses, and those other people give them candy!”

“Ah, so that explains mysterious children at door all night. I hide in home. Many not seem happy when I am not giving them things. This also why tadpoles go with friends wearing peculiar clothing. I understand all now.”

“Out of curiosity, Buff Frog, why didn’t you know?”

“I am needing help to read fancy Earth papers, text too small for eyes. Children try to show me this ‘internal net’ of yours for video, but I do not like. They teenagers now, do not talk to old man about life,” he sighed mournfully. “Is OK. We begin Halloween now. Who want swamp grass? Is favorite treat, but I happily give to my good friends.”

“Thanks Buff Frog, but uh, I think we’re good,” Marco said, making a quick face of disgust.

“Whatwuzzat?” Tom mumbled through a mouthful of swamp grass while eagerly taking more from Buff Frog into his bag.

Another knock came to Buff Frog’s door. His face lit up in joy. “This must be trick-or-treat! I try your custom now.” He went over to the door and opened it, arms spread wide with a gigantic smile on his face. “Happy Halloween! I am so glad to have fresh-faced child at door and be part of holiday cheer. What your costume supposed to-”

“Ugh, whatever. You have any candy or what?” Star sharply turned her attention in that direction at the familiar voice.

“Jeremy?” Marco cried out, his voice cracking.

Star and Marco poked their heads around the side of Buff Frog at the familiar voice. Jeremy Birnbaum, in the shrill, diminutive flesh. Of the many people Star had met during her time on Earth, he was one of the few that she would’ve been perfectly fine with never seeing again, and she knew Marco hated him far more than she did. He was wearing a karate outfit with his name embroidered in multiple places on the fabric.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Marco Diaz. What are you doing out in a dump like this? Oh, wait, that makes perfect sense!” he cackled.

“Don’t listen to him, Buff Frog,” Marco shouted, still fixing his angry gaze on the child. “He’s just a sad, mean little turd.”

“Look, Marco, I get it. You did one big thing and had your 15 minutes of fame and you think you’re hot stuff. But all you really did was make this town even lamer and bring a bunch of weirdo losers here. Whatever, I’m out of here. By the way, those wing things on your head are wimpy, old man. Anyway, later, nerds.”

As he was walking away, he antagonized a few groups of monster teenagers that were wandering around. Star’s face felt like it was on fire. She started charging out the door to give the twerp a piece of her mind, but a large hand gripped her shoulders and held her back.

“Star… is not worth it.”

“Yeah,” Tom added, hands in his pockets. “For the record, I’ve seen a lot of demons with wings way wimpier than yours.” Buff Frog laughed sadly.

Star clenched her fists in and out, knowing they were right. After taking a deep breath, she plopped down onto the floor, resting her cheeks on her hands and sighing. Since the Cleaving, it seemed like everyone had been getting along so well, and problems had been out of sight for so long that she’d gotten complacent. Even after the subject came up earlier today, she really hadn’t believed that anything bad would happen. Had she just been delusional for assuming that things were really better? Could more of this happen? Would more of this happen? She’d done everything in her power, including giving up that very power, to fix the problems and prejudices she saw in society. On some level, she knew she shouldn’t be too bothered by this - it was just Jeremy, after all - but it was just sinking in how far away they still were from the world she wanted to see.

After another minute stewing in her negative emotions, two large hands hefted her back to her feet, and she found herself staring directly into big yellow eyes at a distance where she could see every individual wrinkle under them. “Star, is OK. Those like mean boy exist, but it not so bad. I am used to it. Is better than Mewni. No one try to shove us off cliff yet,” he laughed. “Besides, mean boy not wrong. This place is dump. Children not do chores. Teenagers. Now go, I am not needing you being sad. Get candy with friends and adorable babies,” he said sternly.

“OK. Well, tell Katrina and all the others that we said hi,” Star hesitantly spoke. He was right, she supposed, but something about it still wasn’t sitting right with her. Marco took her hand with the smile he always gave her when trying to ease her worries and the group headed for the door.

“Star, karate boy, take good care of each other. Friends and babies too. You are both like tadpole to me. All will work out, da.”

The group said their goodbyes and headed out. “You feeling alright?” Marco inquired after they’d made their way out of the monster village, .

“I- yeah, I’m fine. Just stinks to see something like that after a while of things being really good.”

He squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I know a house that gives out homemade candy bars made from Sugar Seeds. Ferguson ate four of them one year and was sick for two weeks. Wanna go?”

Star was grateful for the change in subject, and turned to see his soothing chocolate gaze roving her face. He was always right at her side knowing how to lift her spirits, whether it be out of the deepest depths or from the mountaintops into the clouds. Maybe it was just best to push the issue out of her mind for n-

“I hate to interrupt the moment,” Tom stuck his head between them, forcing them to split apart to not get smacked by his horns, “but you might want to check this out.” He pointed a block in front of them to a group of kids frantically scrambling away from something with purpose, looking back over their shoulders every few seconds. Star and Marco locked eyes briefly once more and ran over towards them with the others just behind. Interestingly, Star noted, there were humans, Mewmans, and monsters alike in the group. The moment they drew near, one of the kids just pointed around a large building nearby without a word before continuing their mad dash.

Even Janna seemed interested now, raising an eyebrow along with the others before jogging towards the source of the commotion. They rounded the corner and were greeted with…

“Ludo’s castle?” Star and Marco said simultaneously. “Ludo’s here?”

“They’re still doing that thing?” Tom mouthed to Janna in the periphery of Star’s vision.

Now that she thought about it, there was a dim recollection of Ludo’s voice in her mind from the fateful day of the Cleaving, but her entire being had been so focused on the portal that it had barely registered at the time. How they hadn’t stumbled upon it in the past few months, though, was beyond her. OK, maybe it had something to do with them spending their first few dragon-cycle joyrides focused more on each other than what was below them, but in her defense, how was she supposed to focus on anything else with Marco in his adorkably handsome rough-and-tumble rider outfit? A non-heart-shaped spot of pink tinged her cheeks, and she shook off the thought by striding towards the castle, with Marco jerking forward as a result.

Janna’s eyes lit up at the eerie glow of the torches and the medieval trellises all along the walls. “Finally, my kind of Halloween.” She leaped forward to ring the doorbell.

Before anyone could react, a large net descended on them, capturing them and hoisting them up into the air. They all instinctively tried to break it, and found it impossibly strong. The door opened and they were hoisted into the and carried inside. Star tried to get her bearings but struggled to adjust her position given the bulky fruit costume. Eventually they were set back down in a large room. Star was finally able to crane her head enough to see the back of a large stone throne with two giant horns.

A shrill, familiar cackle erupted from the occupant of the throne. Suspicions confirmed, at least. “Hello, children. You have been trapped in my clutches! By the power invested in me on this Hallow’s Ween, I declare you… trick-and-treated!” Everyone remained still for a second, holding their breath to see what Ludo would do next. “Trick-and-treated!” he called out again. His voice dropped to a whisper, but Ludo was bad at whispering. “Dennis, that’s when you turn the chair!”

“Oh, right, sorry big brother!”

The stone throne swiveled around to reveal Ludo in the same clown costume Star remembered from the seance years ago. Spider and Bird, who Star now realized had been the ones to trap and carry them, emerged from the shadows to flank the sides of the throne. Right as the net dropped, Star felt her costume get pelted with something light. She picked up a small bag that had landed next to her face; it was labeled “Gold’N Crispz”.

“Ludo, what are you doing?” she finally called out.

“Wait, Star Butterfly? Is that really you? Help them up, help them up quickly now!” Spider, Bird, and a tall Kappa Star didn’t recognize helped Marco and Tom up first, who in turn assisted with Star and Janna. Ludo ran over and leaped up into a confused Marco’s arms, giving him a big hug and doing the same to Star a moment later. “I’ve missed you both so much!”

“We, um, missed you too, Ludo?” Marco unsurely stammered out.

“Oh, Marco, you’re alive! I thought you were actually a skeleton for a moment there!”

Star cleared her throat to get his attention once more. “So, uh, Ludo… we saw some kids running away screaming from here before.”

“Trick-and-treating hasn’t been going so well, they all call me ‘ugly hairy clown’ and flee. Ah well, more chips for me! But help yourselves, you two!”

“Uh, Star?” Tom spoke up. “Where’s Meteora?” Wait, what? She was gone? Star had felt her pulling on the leaves just a few minutes ago. She glanced over to Mariposa, who was still strapped into Marco’s carrier comfortably, seemingly unaffected by recent events. She groaned in frustration; the night had already had enough problems, why did this have to happen?

“There!” Marco shouted, pointing to the half-monster baby who had started crawling all along the gloomy walls of the castle. She rounded a corner out of sight.

“I got this,” Janna said. “This is my kind of place.” She jogged as fast as her costume would let her into the corridor Meteora disappeared into.

“I have zero clue who any of you are,” Tom added, pointing finger guns at Ludo and his friends, “but you guys seem like you have some catching up to do, so I’m just gonna go too.” He followed after Janna, tailed by the taller Kappa who Star presumed was Dennis who was breathlessly shouting warnings about various things in the castle.

“Well, your friends seem fun!” Ludo spouted out, bouncing on his feet. He led them into a room decorated like a lounge and jumped up onto one of the armchairs, motioning Star and Marco to do the same. “Come, sit! Would you care for another game of cha-rahds?” He gasped suddenly, pointing at Marco’s chest with a comically excited grin. “You two had a baby! That’s so nice! What’s her naaaaaame?”

Star and Marco’s faces both flushed. “She’s not ours, she’s my sister!”

“Potato, tomato,” he waved his hand at them dismissively. “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Anyyyyway,” Star drawled, eager to change the subject, “You rebuilt your castle, huh? It looks…” She spotted some sludge dripping down one of the walls nearby. “...nice!”

“Yes, it’s been quite an emotional journey this past year. I floated through space for a while - I think I hallucinated you with six arms at one point!” Star raised a finger and began to open her mouth, but Marco quickly grabbed pushed it back down. He probably had the right idea. “Then I lived a dreadful life with mother and father for a while, and then my wonderful little brother who I love so very much helped me see that I didn’t need them anymore by dunking a basketball, and we ended back up here! I guess that’s about it.”

“That’s… uh, glad to hear you’re doing well?” Star asked hesitantly. It was nice to see him not constantly attacking them or plotting to steal from them, but he was still an incredibly strange creature that Star could never quite get a read on. “How’s Earthni been treating you?”

“What’s an Earthni?” He blinked a few times, still innocently grinning.

“Earth and Mewni fused a few months ago,” Star dumbfoundedly responded.

“So that’s why the sky went all pretty and purpley, and why that milkshake stand I always went to right after I failed at getting your wand appeared right next to us. Speaking of which, how is that wand of yours?” He leaned forward in his seat expectantly.

“It’s, um, gone,” Marco said.

Ludo’s brow furrowed. “Well why don’t you go find it?”

“He means gone gone.” Star added. “We destroyed its source.”

“Whaaaaaaat? So no more magic at all? No more wand?” His beady pupils suddenly contracted to tiny dots in the center of his bulbous yellow eyeballs, voice dropping to a whisper. “...no more wand. No more wand. No more wand! I’m free, I’m- I’m free!” He stood up on the chair, jumping up and down and spinning around looking the happiest they’d ever seen him. “My brain, it doesn’t stop scheming and plotting for ways to steal the wand. It’s been lingering in the back of my mind for so long, but I don’t want it there. This is such a relief!”

Star felt a pang of sympathy for her ex-enemy. His mind was largely still an enigma, but he was struggling to put a past he wasn’t proud of behind him in his own way - something she was quite familiar with. She popped open a bag of chips and inspected them carefully, still a bit concerned about whatever food Ludo might deem worthy of giving out. Much to her surprise, they were actually just standard potato chips - fairly good ones, at that, and she was pretty hungry, having been too preoccupied to even dig in to her candy haul so far. Ludo remained in his happy reverie, babbling to himself while she munched and crunched down all the chips. Was that really all there were in it? Stupid packaging. She rustled the bag a bit, hearing it echo through the room. How could a bag be so loud? When the noise persisted, she realized it was actually footsteps. The three stood up and found Tom, Janna, and Dennis, all with scratches and scrapes and scuffs on their skin and clothing, panting heavily with Meteora fast asleep sucking her thumb in Tom’s arms.

“That baby is a nightmare!” Dennis squeaked out, his nasally voice only accentuated by his breathlessness. “She fought off Spider and Bird-”

“Yes, yes, we’ve all had a lovely evening, Dennis. But get this: the wand is gone! I’m free! Star, Marco, it’s been wonderful to see you again, we must catch up more some other time! Quickly, we must go tell Fudo and Tudo and Kudo and Zudo and Menudo and-”

Star, Marco, and the others had managed to make it the whole way off the castle property and out of earshot before Ludo was done with his list of names.

“Sooooo… what happened to-”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Janna tersely stated, as if the experience had made her a changed person. “Let’s just go take Meteora back home.” She took a step forward and winced

Tom snapped his fingers and a pillar of flame erupted in the street behind them, fading away seconds later to reveal his souped up Underworld carriage. “I can’t portal everywhere anymore but I can at least do that. Hop in.”

“What a gentleman,” Janna grumbled, tossing herself face-first onto the long plush seats within.

Star looked at the carriage, then looked up to Marco and knew they were on the same page as usual. They weren’t quite ready for Halloween to end yet. “We’ll make our own way back.”

“Suit yourself,” Tom shrugged, following Janna into the carriage before taking off for the night.

Marco’s hand found Star’s once more as they started to meander back in the general direction of home. “Well, that was an unexpected visit.”

“Yeah… glad to see Ludo’s doing well, though. It kinda gives me hope for Earthni, y’know?”

“Hmm?”

Star gazed up at the last vestiges of the sun in the sky. The sunsets on Earthni were becoming a constant positive in her life, always reminding her of the best the world had to offer. Of Marco, of peace, of the promise of a happy life ahead of them. “If Ludo, the guy who spent basically every waking second of his life for my entire first year here trying to steal my wand, can dig deep down and learn and grow from it… maybe we don’t just have to accept that some people are going to be mean idiots. It’s never gonna be perfect, but maybe there’s at least some hope that anyone can change.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Except Jeremy. He might be one of the hopeless ones,” she joked, jabbing an elbow into Marco’s side causing them both to giggle profusely. “Weeeeeell, we should probably get home soon. This little angel is on a one-way trip to Snoozeville.” She gave a feather-light boop to Mariposa’s nose.

“...should we still stop for those Sugar Seed bars?”

She sighed in contentment and leaned against his arm. “You know me too well, Diaz.”

[plothooksinc]

Second time lucky I wrote a damn essay before I accidentally lost it (@Tumblr you could really benefit from an undo option)

Author Interview

tagged by @wrexie​

name: KJ on here, my pen name is Nekotsuki.

fandoms: Many and varied!  The ones I write for are Rurouni Kenshin, TMNT and FFVII and the ones I RP from are One Piece and Blade of the Immortal.  I’ve also dabbled in SPN and Tiger & Bunny but those fics aren’t likely to see the light of day.  I also love most things that have decently written women and uh.  Kdramas. I dabble.

where you post: ao3, tumblr and ff.net

most popular oneshot: From the review count I’m gonna guess it’s Left Unsaid, which is hilarious but yet unsurprising as it’s the one romance fic I’ve written in a field of gen.  Go figure.

most popular multi-chapter fic; favorite story you’ve written; fic you were nervous to post: Most popular and favourite is gonna be Underdark!  LMAO that one shot that wouldn’t die (working title literally that) that I thought would be about eight pages and ended up to be uh. 89.  It’s also very popular – last I checked it had the highest amount of faves on ff.net out of the whole ’03 TMNT fandom.  (Less so on AO3, but that’s where all the smut hangs out so am unsurprised tbh)

The one I was the most nervous about was my first because I’d never written to be published online before and I generally thought my writing sucked, and that’s Tanabata Jasmine.  It still…mostly holds up (though I cringe at all that fangirl Japanese, I thought everyone had to do that to be good /cry) and is fun to go back and read b/c I can see the evolution of my writing from ch1 through to ch28 as I gained more confidence.  (…and less fangirl Japanese as I went, lmao)

how you choose your titles: …it varies.  Hard to pin down.  Usually I go for one or two words that underpin the themes of the story. Misconduct was named for one particular quote in Crisis Core, Tanabata Jasmine was …named that because I had yet to realize Kaoru and her jasmine connection were entirely fanon creations and it was set at Tanabata.  The Zaibatsu Project was named on many levels  b/c it was both my weird and wacky cyberpunk project with different writing experiments and it was about a Zaibatsu that had a nefarious project going and it was originally published experimentally over at LJ (zaibatsu.livejournal.com and I gotta say I miss being able to do it like this).  Himura Kenshin’s Day Off was my crack file full of weird shit and fourth wall breakage and was an aside fro all the serious writing, title made sense ok. Black Danube was a waltz with a Man in Black. Etc etc.

 do you outline: sometimes.  Most of the time I usually go “okay here are X, Y, and Z events I want to happen and I’ll just write until I get to them” and thus write organically for the most part and end up doing a bunch of side stuff that is fun.  Stuff I’m really unsure on I’ll outline from the start.  Zaibatsu Project is outlined up to a point because I needed to figure out who all the characters were in the AU (we’re about three quarters of the way through that outline).  Legacy is outlined all the way from beginning to end, so are Desperation and Court of Miracles (both unpublished sob maybe I‘ll get to them who knows).  Tanabata Jasmine I literally just jumped in feet first and went HAH SUFFER REDHEAD and then just wrote so it made sense and Kenshin wasn’t a damsel.  Underdark had no outline.  Misconduct has no outline, but I have the original FFVII/Crisis Core canon in mind as I write which informs some events.  Etc etc.  I like writing off the cuff most times unless I am v. unsure of what I’m doing.   ...also if a chapter is mostly conversation, you can near guarantee that I sat down and wrote nothing but the script for it first so it flowed and then went back to fill out descriptors.  A different kind of outline.

 complete: Tanabata Jasmine, Underdark, and a bunch of one shots.  

 in progress: Eesh.  Misconduct, Legacy, Zaibatsu Project, Snowblind.  I need to pick up the pace goddammit, Zaibatsu is closing on 150 pages and the two main leads have yet to hold a decent conversation /sobs in cyberpunk

coming soon/not yet started: Oh sure, coming “soon”, as long as you’re an Ent.  Desperation and Court of Miracles are the only two I actively have a piece written and intend to get to at some point.  They’re both TMNT.  Desperation is a story where Leo and April team up to take on a high stakes murderous mad-scientist-run labyrinth to save their friends, and Court of Miracles is an ’07 story where the remnants of the child traffickers that Leo basically murdered his way through before the movie come to New York to take vengeance, only they don’t expect there to be more than one bizarre turtle and so they end up taking Mikey instead.  Whoops.

One day I might upload the little Nami introspective I wrote or the other two OP fics I have vaguely in mind, but as they’re vague and I already have a full load, that’s a while away.

do you accept prompts: I have in the past.  I probably will again!  If people want me to write shit, they can always fling prompts at me and if I’m sufficiently intrigued I will take it up, but given my current depressed™ white noise brain that might be quite unlikely.  Himura Kenshin’s Day Off is full of weird-ass prompts because people threw me things like “There needs to be a Toys R Us and a Battousai potato head” and “Kenshin is actually a pink and purple dragon with measles” I mean, challenge fucking accepted okok.  A lot of my oneshots are based off prompts also.

upcoming story you are most excited to write: Zaibatsu Project!  Misconduct is a close second though.

tagging (no pressure!): @eggxalted, @janedrewfinally, @columbinepurples, @winnyverse, @angeldormante, @bunnymaccool ... heck, any writers on my list, do this.  I wanna see your answers.

DO NOT DESTROY THIS ONE TUMBLR (hah I wised up and wrote this in Word first so nyah.)