#HE FITS IN SO WELL WITH THE REST OF THE SHRINE......HE WAS MEANT TO BE HERE

[lululeighsworld]

OVER THE MOON EXCITED THAT I RECEIVED THESE TODAY!!!!! the art is so mesmerizing and I'm ecstatic to have a Gunter standee as part of my collection. thank you @/laurencin-draws for drawing him so handsomely and @/kradeelav for commissioning the art so that this could be possible!!

[genesis-quoi]

WIPposting

He really hadn't meant to wander so long. He'd promised Tails he wouldn't leave him to fend for himself ever, let alone with a stranger who'd only recently graduated from enemy to acquaintance...

But he notices how innately comfortable they are in each other's presence despite both of their inherent distrust of the unknown. Maybe it was an islander thing? They'd technically all hailed from tropics, albeit some brought up more isolated than others.

The echidna sort of reminds him of his little brother in a way though; he'd seen them both once owlishly blinking at the smallest display of acknowledgement, almost as if they weren't quite used to it.

Both seemed to live their lives within the whispers of the trees he normally barreled through, finding the roar of the wind that followed behind him a much more fitting announcement of his presence.

But today he walks slowly, trying to be as respectful as Knuckles' fragile heritage demands with this bundle of sticks and twigs he'd collected for the fire in his arms that were probably older than all three of them combined.

He'd been the natural candidate, of course, when the flames they rested near began to flicker and dwindle, and while it was normally his responsibility to rekindle it in any way he could for Tails' sake, the darkness this time wasn't really all that bad, with the looming glow of the Master Emerald's shrine just up the hill.

That, and he still didn't really know his way around, seeing as how the first time he'd traversed Angel Island he didn't exactly have time to sightsee.

Knuckles points him in the correct direction though, but not after a stern warning to keep to the path and to not take more than what was needed, followed by a somewhat skittish reminder to "thank the trees" for their contribution, regarding them not unlike the way Tails would a tool he was particularly fond of.

In that sense, he'd watched as Tails nodded sagely, with all the wisdom he'd been born with.

"Oh don't worry, Sonic's never wasteful! I've seen him eat so many hot dogs off the ground, I swear-!"

He hadn't stuck around long enough to witness whatever expression that conjured, though he was sure from the way his little brother laughs as he left that the eyeroll was nothing short of legendary.

The echidna's faith in him remains a bit more underwhelming.

He understood the importance of as well as the respect demanded by the natural forces that sustained him, just as much if not more than anyone else.

But his parting words, while scathing to a degree, still melted his tough, weathered exterior to reveal something more tender and unavoidably naive beneath.

It's visible on the tiny notches he passes by, etched into thick and sprawling trunks like little more than old scars from a bygone time. He finds it in the withered flowers strewn about a felled tree's resting place, each of its many rings marked to track the time like wisdom from the only elder Knuckles ever knew.

He couldn't have been more than 13, and yet...until he'd entered the picture by accident, they were what little company Knuckles kept on this island.

[bokettochild]

came back wrong sounds like a very wild thing

and maybe twi could have obedience? something about wolfie and training could be angsty.

If no one suggested that one for Wild, I wanted to do it anyways LOL

Since I already posted Day 4 elsewhere, I'll give you Day 16 personally <3

Rating: Teen

Wordcount: 8,047

Summary: Coming back changed the Hero of the Wilds, and he's known it for a while. he's not sure how much changed, although he's happy to let Zelda and Purah try and find out. He does know though that there's a certain sort of power that lurks under his skin now, one capable of many things, but it comes with one great disadvantage: he doesn't know how to make it stop once he's started to employ it.

(This is set in the Inner Hero AU, so there are references to the other fics of that series, so consider this your warning!)

-

  It’s no great secret to anyone in Hyrule that there’s something Wrong with their hero. Since the shrine of resurrection, he isn’t what those who once knew him remember, and even those who’d never met the him from Before can sense that their hero isn’t exactly like the rest of them. Most of them accept that oddness as just another quirk or some such, just something intrinsic to Link, the weird kid who wanders the kingdom and somehow is also the hero that defeated the Calamity. 

  The Zora accepted it as a change brought by time, much as their own selves have all become altered in the hundred years since last they saw him. Maybe they know too; maybe they’re just too polite to say, but they never fuss about it. 

  Zelda knows though. She’s told him plainly that she knows he’s not what he used to be. He’s still him, she assures, because she knows the smile he spares for his mounts and recognizes the little habits he’d never have suspected she’d caught before the Calamity occurred. He’s still him, she says, but he’s More now too. 

  He came back different. 

  Purah and Zelda have looked into it, with his permission. He's sat and watched his girls sit with their head’s together over tests and papers and results as they try to understand how he’d changed. It’s nice, in a way. He's not very involved and, in many ways, he feels as though they forget at times that he’s able to hear them and the clinical way they refer to their study of him, but it’s not with any ill intent that they do so. In fact, it’s sort of nice to slip into the background of their minds and watch them at their most natural, see their bright smiles and hear them talk over each other and cut each other off in their excitement as they come to similar conclusions 

  He treasures the time spent up at the tower above Hateno, He treasures the time where he can simply exist as he is beside those he cares about, watching them bustle about doing what they love while he can finally rest in peace, knowing that his work is done, that nothing calls him out and that he can linger there as long as he pleases, without guilt. He can see what he was denied; Zelda’s joy, her eagerness, her freedom, and enjoy his own as well. 

  It’s good. 

  Returning to the rest of the world though, he’s always reminded again of how illy he fits among them. Magic has faded from the land of Hyrule, but he is steeped in it. Those around him walk with only the slightest bit of the power of heaven in their veins, yet his body overflows with magic that seeps out of the cracks left by his death. Zelda has compared him to the broken pottery he leaves across the kingdom, cracked and damaged by his adventure, and from those cracks, the power that twisted up with his own to bring him back from the brink now ekes out into the world, twisting and strange. Hylians aren’t meant to understand the feeling of Death’s touch, she says, eyes solemn and wary, lip pulled between her teeth as she’ll scan his face for signs of pain or sadness at her words. He knows she means well to do so, but he understands, and there’s really no need to be sad over such a thing. 

 He’s not normal, but it’s not their fault, and as they still accept him, still treat him with kindness, he feels little hurt for the changes that occurred to bring him to their sides. It’s a sacrifice he’d make again, even knowing what it will do. Watching Hyrule flourish in the wake of the Calamity, watching their victory paint the world anew in life and prosperity for their people, it’s worth dying and being pieced together again for, even if what holds his once drifting soul to his broken body is a magic no one can explain to him. 

  Life is good as long as he learns to hold back the worst of the magic, keep it tamed and keep his temper in check, which is hardly any struggle around most people. There are a few, certain people who drive him crazy and make him want very much to do things a hero ought not, but he holds himself back, and when Zelda really wants him to test himself, to see how much he can restrain the twisting Thing that has become part of him, she’ll challenge him to deal with those people. Really, they make it a game, so even if those people do drive him mad, seeing Zelda beam and mumble to herself at what they’ve learned from such encounters makes it worth it. 

  For her, he’d do anything. After all, he’s already died for her, what worse is there? 

  Well, as it would seem, leaving her behind for the sake of undertaking a new journey is worse. She’s happy in Hateno, capable of defending herself with both her magic and the archery her family is renowned for across the ages. She’s not as good as he is with a bow, but it’s a near thing, and he has no doubt that one more trip to Rito village, one more study session with Tulin and Teba, is all it will take before his princess can out-do him with his own preferred weapon.  

  Even knowing she can handle herself just fine doesn’t make leaving her behind any easier though. He’s still not sure how he’d managed, but he had. He had and he’d stumbled across the other heroes, joining them in their quest. It’s not perfect, not by any means, they’ve found peace in their new team. While there’s still some settling and sifting to be done before they click together like a real team, they are getting there. 

  He may have thrown a wrench in that process though. 

  See, since meeting the heroes, his magic has been rather well behaved. None of them rub him the wrong way, and while he isn’t exactly friendly with them all, they’re not the sort of people who push his boundaries or upset him either. He can co-exist beside them, and in many ways they remind him of the champions. He’s not sure how Time would feel knowing that in many ways he makes the cook think of Chief Urbosa, but he thinks Twilight might get a laugh out of being compared to Daruk. Of course, not everyone has similarities to the champions; Warriors isn’t like anyone he’s met before and he doubts he’ll ever meet anyone like him again, but it’s there for the rest. It's mostly just small things; they are, after all, their own persons, but finding something familiar to define them with makes approaching and working beside them easier. Four possesses the same quiet strength as Riju, Legend the certainty and experience of Teba, and Sidon’s wit and charm peeks through the traveler’s smile at times. Using what he knows about other people, about those he knew before, he can navigate the group with some decency. There's hiccups and there’s snags, but fortunately, they rarely if ever involve him, and never his magic. 

  Until now. 

  He sits back and tries to learn when he finally realizes that the others have magic spilling out from their cracks as well. Warriors is fire and Twilight is rich earth, Somehow, Legend is the force that quiets both, and despite a harsh outwards demeanor, the man holds a surprising amount of sway over the group as a whole. 

  In many ways, Legend reminds him of the Zelda from Before. There’s a potential for something bright and warm and rambling, something that would flourish if left alone and free to its own will, but like his princess, the vet restrains it for some reason or another. Duty drove Zelda, and he thinks something similar leads the vet, because no other factor has yet appeared. It’s there though, that warmth and light, mixed with a strength that is regarded and respected even if it isn’t followed. Legend is no leader, but his word has power, and they all listen to what he has to say in regards to what it is that they face. Not only that, but the vet’s magic is a twisting, free thing that is embraced and clung to by those in their gathering. 

  Warriors and Twilight seek its peace, and Sky urges it forwards with bright smiles and open arms as he somehow slips past the thorns of trailing magic to get at the hidden blossoms beneath. Time, in his own way, accepts it, although he does little with it. Wind seeks it, and Hyrule, whether the traveler seems to realize it or not, has tuned himself to it.  

  Wild may be clueless as to how people work normally, but he can understand magic. He can see how Hyrule’s flickering and dancing light embraces the magic of the veteran, and while he doesn’t grasp where the older ones do, he does linger and bask in it. 

  Wild doesn’t blame him. Legend’s magic feels like safety, like the goddess statues across Hyrule, the ones that quiet his soul and the twisting of his mind to grant him peace and rest even when he’s at his worst. Hylia, they say, is a goddess of Life, so it’s natural that her light would ease or even erase the darkness of Death. He's not sure how Legend’s magic echos that of the goddess, like the moon reflecting the suns rays even once the bright star has faded from view, but he welcomes that warmth and light all the same. 

 Losing that light affects them all. They are, after all, all beings of light, so losing the source that travels with them, having it snuffed out or hidden, leaves all antsy and ill at ease, and he doesn’t blame them. He still doesn’t appreciate Hyrule’s approach to fixing it though. 

  They’d talked, and maybe he'd let his own worries and insecurities spill over. Maybe he’d not correctly portrayed what he thinks he’d seen in the face of their brother when the vet had had Claims explained to him, but what really bothers him is how quickly his words were cast aside, how quickly Hyrule had returned to twining his magic with Legend’s own, laughing and chatting like nothing had happened and he hadn’t tried to tie down a ray of light itself. 

  He’s seen people try to tame light, bend it to their will and force it to linger rather than shine over the world as intended. His princess was never meant to stay locked in a castle, hidden in dark rooms to pray for power she wasn’t allowed to seek on her own terms; to find within herself what had always been. Seeing her free now, riding where she will and doing what she wants, he sees that light realized, knows the same could be found if Legend is allowed to do the same, as he’s expressed wanting. Light doesn’t belong to anyone after all, but to everyone, although they can’t hold it or keep it. Legend feels the same, at least with their group, and he wishes Hyrule would understand that. 

  The problem is, he’s not sure how to talk to vet about it. 

  Twilight, Warriors, Sky and Hyrule all feel free to approach, but Wild has never had anything with which to connect himself to the vet, no foundation for a friendship. They're such different people, and he’s not so blind as to have missed how the vet recoils when his own magic flares and hisses along the edges of the others in camp. His magic, the twisting, festering, darkness of it, entwines with Zelda’s like second nature, both dimming each other to the point of being null. In contrast, he lacks the familiarity with the vet to do the same, and instead, Life’s light flickers and hides when he loses control of the darkness of Death. 

  He wishes it wasn’t so, but it is. 

  How does fire that burns and earth that tends to smother have such a way to twist up with light, yet the un-named otherness of his own soul can’t find a harmony of its own? 

  “Wild, hey, focus.” 

  He shakes himself, staring up at Twilight where the other is standing next to him with a worried look on his face. “Huh?” 

  “You good?” The rancher asks, “you drifted out again.” 

  It wasn’t a memory, but it strikes him that he has, in fact, been sitting here unmoving for the last twenty minutes or so, and that’s probably just a bit worrying to the others. “Yeah, just lost in my head.” 

 The man frowns, settling himself down slowly on the loam underfoot so he’s sitting at Wild’s side, dark stare searching over him as though for an injury of some kind. “Anything on your mind?” 

  Does he tell? He can’t help the way his eyes drift to where the vet and captain sit back to back by the fire, Hyrule so close his knees are almost touching the vet’s as they face each other and chat, busy at work with their sewing and magic even as the captain writes what’s probably a report to his princess. They look at peace, somehow already over the latest hiccup of their group and already resettling into place as though it never happened, as though the subject of Claims never came up at all. How can do they do it? 

  He shakes his head. “Just thinking is all.” The doubt on the face of the other is soothed with a smile, dark gaze softening at the sight of flashing teeth. “Not memories or anything, I promise.” 

  “If you’re sure...” 

  “I am,” he says again, chuckling slightly for extra good measure. “At worst, I’m a bit homesick, at best, just confused, and considering this is me,” he laughs again, watches the face of his brother relax into one of those easy smiles they are al so used to, “I’m pretty sure that’s just normal.” 

  A heavy hand claps down on his shoulder, squeezing slightly, and despite the lingering concern in the rancher’s face, he is smiling. “If you’re sure. Remember though, pup, I’m here if ya need me.” 

  “I know.” He smiles in return, but beneath, his magic seethes just a bit. Twilight is great, Twilight is amazing, Twilight is there if he needs something and always offers a shoulder to lean on, and he’s incredibly thankful for that. But the rancher is also against the idea of using most magics, and despite the fact that he knows Twilight would never resent them for their own use of the stuff, his choice being personal preference rather than a hard belief about it in general, it does still mean he’s rather...ignorant, at least when it comes to magic. He can’t help here, and he probably wouldn’t even understand half of what Wild would need to explain. No, because unlike certain people, he doesn’t have a mastery for teaching. Good grief, he wishes Zelda was here, or even Purah, they could explain this mess to him, and maybe help him find a solution. He’s good at fighting and exploring and making things, not magic. He’s not qualified for all of this! 

  At the other side of camp, he sees Wind sit up abruptly, eyes scanning the world around him, wary. He's not the only one either, for Warriors is grabbing his sword as he scans the trees, Legend’s ears are flicking about, seeking something. He doesn’t feel or see or hear anything though, and it’s only when he sees the fiery glow of Hyrule’s gaze on him that he realizes he’s lost control again. 

  His magic really doesn’t do any of them any favors, does it? 

  He needs to gather it up again and tuck it away in a neat little box, watch guards relax again as the heroes puzzle at the sudden disappearance of whatever they’d felt or thought they’d sensed. Warriors gets up and starts patrolling the camp, leaving his own magic twisting here and there, like a spider casting a web, but predictably, he finds nothing to indicate that they are in any danger, even after he and Twilight have checked the forest around them. 

  Honestly, the longer they look, the more he wants to shrink in on himself and just... bang his head against a tree or something. 

  He feels like a threat to those he cares about, and they have no idea, because they don’t know it’s him that makes them jump to an alert and drop what they’re doing to instead prepare for a fight. 

  It’s worse in a fight though. 

  The next time they’re on a battlefield, Warriors leading the charge with Time and Sky, Legend and Four covering their asses and darting around the field to take out the threats that creep up upon the others, it slips loose. The problem is that it’s his monsters they’re fighting, recognizable by the fact that they’re not nearly as horrific to look at as the creatures from nearly all the others’ eras. He knows them, and they know him, and its sort of his habit when fighting in his own world, where the likelihood of other people being around is basically null, to just... let go. 

  Magic surges around him, a twisting, snapping thing that creeps and twists and twines over and around the enemies, driving them into a state of frenzy at the threat of something, something that their senses can’t pick up, but their souls can feel all the same; feel creeping over them, ready to snatch, to grab, to destroy. Death is scary to the creatures that aren’t familiar with its touch, and even those that act as it’s messengers tremble when the focus of Death is turned from their prey and onto themselves. The bokoblins run about attacking anything that moves, including each other, and it makes sweeping in and slaying them so much easier than if he was just fighting like the others do. 

  It helps that the monsters have come to know to associate the creeping presence of Death with his face, and they know, even before his sword slips across their throats or through their chests, exactly what’s coming. The ones that have met him before, brought back by red moons and dark malice, only fear it more with experience, and it’s sort of...satisfying, unleashing it all and watching the enemy panic, half knowing what’s coming to them and the other half unaware but just as panicked. 

  Once they’ve all fallen though, there’s always one little problem, one he’d sort of forgotten about. 

  “What the heck is this?” It’s Legend calling out, eyes wide, stance wide, sword gripped in one hand and fire rod in the other as his gaze flicks across the field; searching, looking.  Similarly, Warriors is staring about with that glinting look in his eyes, teeth bared, and ears pricked back, a dragon ready to surge out and rip something apart the moment it reveals itself. All the heroes are still looking about for the final threat, and Wild- 

  Wild can’t control the magic. 

  It happens, sometimes. If he leans into his magic, he can’t tame it so easily. It’s like a particularly eager stallion; plunging ahead no matter how he leans back in the saddle or tries to turn the creature off course, turn it, slow it, circle until its energy dies and it listens to him again. Magic isn’t an animal he can slow down though, and despite their efforts, neither he nor Zelda have found a way for him to get it under control by himself. They just have to wait until it calms of its own accord, for now. Purah said she’d try and help him find a way to control it, since it’s his, it's part of him, so reasonably he should be able to control it, just like a limb, a muscle, another part of himself physically. Zelda says it’s because it’s still new, still unfamiliar, still something he’s adapting to, so he’s still learning how it’s part of him, like a pup discovering its own wagging tail, although far less innocent because puppy tails don’t have everyone around you preparing to fend off a death blow. 

    Warriors snarls something he can’t make out, something that has the twisting darkness around them surging back in kind.  

  Wild isn’t trying to threaten, he swears. If anything, there’s something in the magic, in himself, that hears the dragon’s threat and eagerly bounces forwards in response. Now is not a good time though, in fact, it’s probably the worst of times. 

  Hyrule’s eyes are turned on him, harsh and just slightly scared, like they had been in the inn room. Still, the other hero darts to his side and, under his breath, unable to be heard by the others past their own panic, the traveler hisses at him. “Can it, champ.” 

  “I can’t,” he hisses back. He’s trying, but he’s fighting against a part of himself that he still can’t understand, and he’s not sure how to bind it back when it’s strong, only when it’s just beginning to peak out and is just the slightest of strains. Now it’s a howling force he can’t keep back, and all attempts are failing badly. 

  “Are you trying?” The embers in those eyes are flickering, but Hyrule’s voice isn’t harsh so much as straining, worried. The gaze of the traveler is trailing over the rest of their group, aware of their panic and doing his best to try and quell the source, but unwilling, Wild realizes, to reveal it. Hyrule has no interest in exposing him, just making him turn it off. 

  The problem though it he can’t. “Yes! It’s not working!” 

  Some very harsh words slip from the tongue of the other, but it’s not hylian. It’s not fae either, which he’d recognize, but something smoother and less lilting. Legend would know it, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t suppose it matters either. 

  Flames rise against his darkness, a raging force that shrieks and screams. Hyrule’s ears are pricked back as far as they can go, too many teeth glinting in the fading light of the setting sun, light that sets his face aglow as magic surges in a silent battle around them, one that has Warriors tensing, Twilight balking. Wild can feel the wings of the dragon flaring, the lash of the tail, can almost see the rise of the wolf’s hackles. There’s a crackling energy around their chosen hero, a surge of light from their vet, shields rising against the unseen threat, but Hyrule’s magic surging against his own, lashing and licking along the darkness in a roaring flame that reaches to consume and destroy, has his full attention. 

  He doesn’t try and fight it. Hyrule is pushing back what he can’t handle himself, but the boundaries thrown up around his own power, boxing it in and forcing it back, won’t last, and he knows it. The strain is clear on his brother. He’s not sure how strong his own magic is, but the color is draining out of the traveler’s face, his breath quickening as the whipping and shrieking of the fae’s magic pushes back against the hiss and shadow of Death, steadily pushing it back and bottling it up within some confines the traveler must have forged himself, because it’s not just tucked back into the spot within him that he usually pulls it from. The hand on Hyrule’s sword is turning white with the effort of actions unseen, but he sees the guards of the others lower, sees the strain flow out of their shoulders as, at long last, the magic is bottled up and away, still writhing and twitching, but unable to break free. 

  Honestly, it’s terrifying. He didn’t know Hyrule could do that. 

  The traveler sags beside him, breathing hard as he stumbles, but when he reaches out to catch his brother, Hyrule stumbles back. “No, just....” dark lashes flutter and Hyrule’s lips are slightly grey, “Don’t.” 

  So, he doesn’t. 

  Not too far away, Legend is creeping up into the space of their captain, voice low and wary, like he’s approaching a spooked animal, and like any other time in the past, the moment clarity returns to eyes the color of holy flame, Warriors is dropping his sword and grabbing ahold of his brother, hunching over him as Legend sighs and let’s himself be clutched close, huffing words the rest can’t hear but which have short little ears twitching slightly out of their pricked back position. 

  Similarly, Twilight is checking in with the rest, reaching to touch, to self-assure. Clapping Wind’s shoulder and brushing against Four. Time reaches out to the rancher first, but the touch lingers, both comforting each other and themselves before turning to Sky, who’s sheathing the Master Sword and happily accepts the worry of the others, assuring with a smile and a light nudge to Twilight’s shoulder, eyes bleeding warmth that Wild envies. None of them approach the captain, but Legend calls something to them, huffing and half laughing past the arms wrapped around him, an promise that all is well as his magic soothes twisting scales and quells flames. 

  The warmth of Life surges, like a balm, around all of them. Legend’s reach touching the rest even despite the fact that they seem as blind to his efforts as they had been to the source of their previous fear. 

  “You alright, boys?” Time asks, Twilight at his side as the both move to the sides of their wildlings. Their leader’s eyes linger on Hyrule, and when he reaches out, the traveler lets himself sag against the man’s touch. 

  Hyrule doesn’t like touch, Wild reminds himself, trying to excuse the denial he’d faced at a similar offer. Only Time seems exempt from that rule, and it’s probably only because of the fairy magic that lingers faintly over the other, the remains of an old Claim resting about the edges of his magic to mark him as something not quite fae, but treasured by them all the same. If the traveler reaches for that magic, he doesn’t say anything, and Time doesn’t seem to notice either. 

  “I’m okay,” he answers honestly. The worst effect his own magic had had on him was fear at not being able to control it; not the overwhelming terror that seemed to grip the others that they would fall victim to it. 

  Twilight’s eyes linger on him shortly, but drift away after, apparently accepting his words as truth and determining that the others, still shaken and, in Hyrule’s case, trembling with exhaustion, require his attention more. Still, the rancher grips his shoulder briefly in passing, assuring himself and offering brief comfort to the champion in the process. 

  It’s nice, but as he moves away, leaving their leader and his mentor to tend to the exhausted half-fae, he can’t help but watch the others. Specifically, his gaze trails to where Warriors is sagging against their vet, making the smaller man stumble with a cut off laugh as he pats broad shoulders, magic still twisting and entwining with flames as easily as though they’re naught but harmless air. 

  Life pours across the group of them, a heavy weight that settles across their shoulders with the grace and warmth of a cat climbing up to greet it’s master, its presence a comfort that he wants so bad to catch ahold of and nestle into, like he once had curled at the base of goddess statues when his own power wouldn’t quiet, letting the power of Hylia soothe him when he couldn’t do it himself. He wishes there was a goddess stature here too, because as much as Legend reflects that same power, his arms are rather full of their captain, and the hold of gloved hands in red fabric says that he won’t be free for at least a while more. Not that Wild could ask anyways. He and Legend aren’t close to begin with, asking for the same welcome as is granted to the dragon that has slowly been tamed to his brother’s presence isn’t realistic by any means. Still, it’s easier to hide the writhing presence bottled up by force when he’s slinking closer to the source of comfort in their camp, so if he settles closer to the vet and captain than he normally would that evening, after finishing with making dinner, well, Hyrule’s the only one who really seems to take notice. Warriors is distracted with teasing their sailor, and while Legend’s dark gaze lifts to greet him as he moves over, the man says nothing at his choice of seat, just keeps eating his dinner quietly. 

  Hyrule is staring, a warning look in those eyes when they’re on him, but worry when they turn to the veteran. He doesn’t say anything from where he’s slumped against Time though, across the fire and picking at his food. The traveler is exhausted, and reasonably so. The others don’t know why, so it’s natural that they’re worrying, and the cave dweller hasn’t elected to explain himself either, so they probably will continue to do so for a good while. 

  Despite the camp-fire between them, Hyrule’s magic, weak and tired, has still managed to entwine with the vet’s. Legend answers back with flickers of his own power to the embers that scatter themselves at his feet, assuring and fond, even if there’s confusion in the flicker of his ears, the twitch of his hands and the gaze of starlit violet that turns from time to time to meet faintly glowing embers. 

  Wild doesn’t dare try and sneak his own flickering, snapping power out to try and reach, knowing far too well what the reaction would be, but also wary of the escape of the still writhing power that surges against the wall of flames raised around it. 

  How Hyrule bottled back his strength, he doesn’t know, but it feels dangerously like a weak seal; like golden power meant to keep back evil. He isn’t sure of a lot right now, but the idea of that makes him uneasy and definitely bothers him. He’s not a monster or demon that needs restraining by holy power, but the fact that he’d failed to hold himself back enough that Hyrule would feel the need to take such measures at all is just as pressing a pain to his pride and soul as the action itself. 

  The magic holds though. His soul doesn’t creep and screech against that of the others after that. Doesn’t even surge when his emotions run hot. If anything, it thrashes within its confines, but it doesn’t escape to twist like a net around those he considers friends and brothers. Unfortunately, that also means that it doesn’t emerge when faced with enemies either. 

  The next time they’re in battle, this time against something Legend calls a ‘gleeok’ and which he desperately hopes will never appear in his own world, he somehow can’t summon his own magic at all. It’s there, he can feel it, but trying to bring it out, even just the smallest amount, proves to have no results. Every prod, every call, every little hiss of his soul to push and pull and just get his magic to respond, has it only thrashing more, wild within its confines but not breaking past them. 

  His sword plunges and stabs, and the heroes around him do the same. Warriors is a whirlwind of power and ferocity as he charges in head on, the vet’s magic raising in a shield and Hyrule’s own likewise surging across the field in strikes that leave their foe howling and screaming in anger, flames licking across the ground in response, but his own power can only beat at the bounds created around it. He can’t break them, but he’s trying. He’s trying and surging, biting his lip with focus to the point he knows there’s blood trailing across his face from his own efforts and not any wound dealt by the dragon like monster they’re pitted against, but it isn’t working. 

  He hisses as a tail rises up to thrash at him, drops and rolls to avoid the impact of it hitting him, all the time pushing at the seal on his own magic in a valiant attempt to summon it, only to still be met with no results. He could ask Hyrule, if the other wasn’t on the other side of the enemy and currently absorbed with trying to stop the head firing at him with flames that surge and lick around a magic shield thrown up at only the last of moments. Still, with the amount of effort it took to raise the seal on his power, he doesn’t know if the traveler could even summon the strength to undo that same work, not when he’s so busy currently trying to avoid getting killed. 

  It’s driving Wild mad though. 

  Before, he was the knight of the princess who had the power to topple an army of lynels. He'd lost some of that to Death, but in return had been granted something he’s used like second nature since, letting it ruin and destroy and tear apart and terrorize anything and everything that dared rise before him as he’d worked across the kingdom in an effort to rescue the one who’d called him back out of Death’s hold. He can’t control it once it’s free, but he’d at least been able to employ it before, and being without it in the first time in his memory has a fear he hates bubbling up from within, anger surging at the bonds of magic to snap and hiss and cry with a wildness he hadn’t known he possessed. 

  He wants free. He wants to unleash the wildness he’d been named for and let it at the very least leave their foe cowing, if only slightly, as the imminence of its own fate is made clear to it. 

  He can’t. 

  He can’t because Hyrule bottled it, and he hates that. 

  Not Hyrule. He doesn’t hate Hyrule. The traveler had done him a favor by rendering him tolerable for the others to be around again without leaving them straining themselves to understand the threat they’d felt slipping about them. What he hates is the bounds of the seal closing in around him like the walls of the shrine he’d woken within time and again, aching pains all over from half healed wounds that had been strained over and over by efforts to push free from a prison of stone. The shrine had felt as though it was closing in on him and keeping him sealed, leaving him only to awake and fight and pass out, water filling his lungs and straining his body as he’d tried to escape from his confines only to fail yet again.. He’d healed long before he’d escaped, and since letting on the truth to Purah (but not Zelda, he could never tell her about that), she’d started looking into why it had kept him so much longer, but so far, they have had no results. Still, the feeling of being trapped, sealed, shut off from his own strength, it drives him mad. There’s a writhing and snapping, a hiss and a scream, a howling of something in his soul as it tears at the bonds. 

  Slowly, they give way. 

  It’s like a dam breaking. Just a crack, then a hole, then the rest comes crumbling down and, from the other side of the battlefield, he hears Hyrule’s breath shudder, catches ember eyes rising, wide and terrified. And then he’s free. 

  His magic sweeps like a fierce current, a mighty wave, a shadow that plunges over the field and has the gleeok before them screaming, turning its heads for a source of the threat it feels, and thus missing the approach of the captain who’s own surging flames rise beside the shadows, a pulsing, pounding force as the man severs a head and sends it falling towards their waiting leader, who dispatches the thing before the creature can do more than cry out in pain. Writhing darkness twists, twining and trapping and sharing the feelings that only moments before had overwhelmed him; now wrapping themselves around their foe and leaving it frenzied and panicked as the rest of the heroes, despite their own obvious awareness of the new presence, surge forwards. 

  In a strange way, he thinks the flames and scales of the captain are surging stronger as well, pushing back with a hiss against his own magic, one he can’t help but respect, power surging away to let the older man take charge and wreak havoc on their foe while he focuses instead on keeping it on edge. The captain’s magic isn’t stronger than his, but it’s not something he has a wish to reckon with either, and like so many times before, he finds that even the twisting of Death finds something to admire in the lashing of the war hero’s own power. 

  Their foe falls quickly after that. 

  Once the gleeok lies dead, dissipating into black and purple smoke and leaving only the barest remains, he feels able to breathe again.  

  The others though, are not. Wariness marks their features, save Hyrule who looks so, so tired; desperate and weary as though the idea of trying to push back the force of their brother yet again, especially after it had somehow broken through his last attempt, is a far worse fight than the creature they’d just felled. In a way, Wild thinks it must be, because trying to push it down himself is far more a struggle than simply felling something tangible and mortal that fears it. 

  This time though, there’s a surge of another magic, a familiar one, one that pulses and creeps, seeking, against his own. It recoils, as if by instinct, but still presses back against his magic, not pushing so much as following, and light against crypt like darkness which has him looking up in time to catch the gaze of indigo eyes that have lifted to focus on him, sharp and piercing. 

  Legend’s breath shudders, lips pursing. He knows now. 

  Wild tries, tries so hard, to make his face do something, say anything to indicate that he’s sorry, he’s trying, he really isn’t doing this on purpose. It’s hard though when something warm curls up inside of him. It's not his magic, not the cold death touch he knows and has learned to view as an extension of himself. It’s a steady gleam of warmth, not harsh and burning like Hyrule’s, not fierce and violent like Warriors’, but a gleam of light rather than heat, one that curls around some innermost part of him, like it’s wrapping around his very heart. 

  Legend’s eyes glint curiously, stars blazing within. 

  The vet’s feet step towards him. 

  Hyrule whips around to stare, something on his lips and magic surging, throwing up walls and shields and warnings- protective, wary, guarded, begging. The urgency that flings itself at their vet has the other stumbling slightly, but not stopping. Their traveler looks like he wants to scream, ember gaze trailing between them, panicked, worried, wary. 

  Wild tries not to let it bother him. Hyrule is just worried for their vet, their light, his friend. If Zelda trailed into something he felt was a risk, something that made his senses recoil as violently as his power makes the others do, he’d feel the same way, he knows it. Still, the wariness of his brother isn’t helping anybody right now. 

  “Wild,” the same low, even tone that the man uses to ease Warriors own of his own head rises to play in his ears, “what’s going on?” 

  He opens his mouth to answer, but no words come to mind, just a panic, a wish to assure, to apologize. 

  The warmth curled around his core flickers. Light, pure, unaltered by death-touched power, presses around him. The vet steps closer and then, like stepping before a goddess statue, he feels the surge of his own magic quiet. The rest of the heroes ease, looking about in confusion for the threat they’d felt a moment before but there’s nothing there. Nothing that isn’t twisting and twining, muted by light that itself is dimmed to their senses in an echo of his own quieted power. 

  Hyrule is gaping. 

  Legend is just looking utterly confused, stopping only a pace or so away, ears flicking between a curious forwards tilt and a wary press back against his skull. Violet eyes search his own, flickering golden with power that’s familiar, that’s safe, that’s Hylia’s hand in a gentle caress to quiet his own soul and tame the Wrongness that came back binding him to the body that ought to have perished a hundred years ago. 

  The vet sighs, eyes slipping closed and shoulders sagging with the motion. “The heck, champ...” He doesn’t say anything more though, just raises dark eyes to stare, something crooked in the smile that’s offered to him, tired and weary but bright like the magic that pulls his own inwards again and eases it back where it belongs; nestled beside his heart and twining and twisting, crackling at the edges but not in ire as before. No, he reaches, and despite the twitch of the vet’s brows, the warmth of holy magic answers with a press that his own grasps and clings to. 

  He shouldn’t grab, try to grasp, shouldn’t set off the same ire that Warriors has triggered before, but with the alternate option being to scare the wits out of his brothers, he thinks Legend might understand. 

  “You good?” 

  He nods, and this time he actually means it. “Yeah.” 

  “Good,” Legend shakes his head, that weary little smile still on his face. “Honestly, you guys...” 

  “Sorry.” 

  “I should have seen it coming,” violet glimmer, twinkling oddly as they catch his own, the glow of the shrine still lingering in wild blue. “Just don’t make Wars and Twi lose their shit, ‘kay? I’m not keen on dealing with that again.” 

  He promises he won’t.  

  He doesn’t either. Yes, he trails after the vet as the other moves back to the rest of their group, but he’s wary of leaving the immediate presence of the power that quiets his own. Still, he doesn’t get in the way of their usual post battle arrangement. Doesn’t get in the way when Warriors drapes himself over the smaller hero with a huff, soul still seeking the presence it had felt before but finding naught of the force that surged alongside his own. He doesn’t deny Twilight’s wary check over as the man seeks injury among their group, or Time’s verbal call for them to report on their condition. 

  Injuries are treated, and camp is made. Hyrule’s eyes are burning into the back of his head, gaze confused and magic seeking, pushing, looking for that presence he’d strained so much to contain before, yet finding silence in it’s place. 

  He doesn’t stray far from Legend for the rest of the evening, but by morning, he’s got the courage to risk it, and it’s like he’d never released the terrible creature within to begin with. 

 Even so, all this doesn’t mean that, next time that they make camp, Legend doesn’t have questions. Ringed fingers catching his arm and the vet’s steady voice calling to Time that the two of them will do a quick round of the area to check for threats are his only warning before being dragged out of earshot of their brothers and having an answer demanded of him. Legend has questions, and while he doesn’t have answers for all of them, he does his best to give them. He owes that much after the trouble he’s caused. 

  The vet’s pinch of his brows, tired sigh and sinking shoulders are becoming quite familiar. “So, your magic is death-touched, and you scare the shit out of others with it.” 

  “Yeah.” 

  There’s something between a scoff and a laugh that puffs out from the chest of the other. “Dragons, wolves, fairies, now Death herself, good grief.” 

  “I’m sorry.” He’s not sure why, but he feels he ought to say it. 

  There’s the smile again, Legend’s shoulders shaking and pink hair swishing as he shakes his head once more. “Not your fault, champ. Magic’s screwy, and if there’s anything I'm learning with y’all, controlling it’s always a pain in the arse.” 

  Still, he feels awful for adding to the mess that the vet is already caught in. 

  “Okay,” a clap of the hands and a lifting of glittering stars to focus their light on him, “here’s the deal. Your magic quiets around holy magic. I have holy magic. You need it to shut up, you can come to me, but for the love of all holy, please, I am begging, do not mess with the captain, and whatever your beef with Hyrule is, don’t get me involved, deal?” 

  He blinks. “Deal. I wasn’t...I-” it takes a moment, but the vet waits, although his foot taps the ground as he does, nervous maybe, or just impatient. He can’t tell. “I know better than to mess with the captain,” he finally manages. “Hyrule... we’re working on it.” 

  “Good,��� Legend sounds, “but again, I don’t want a part of it. Whatever tiff you two have, settle it yourselves. If you need help with your magic, I’m here, but I don’t stand for funny business, comprendo?” 

  He blinks. 

  The vet rolls his eyes, sighing. “Do you understand?”  

  “Understood.” He wishes people would just speak Hylian to him instead of switching mid conversation. 

  “Good. Now, anything else I should know?” And it’s not harsh, it’s not cold, its’s said with the tilt of the head in a way that almost reminds him of Wolfie in their early days, that same half-amused look in dark eyes as the one that had followed him as he’d acquainted himself with a new world, freshly brought back into it. There’s nothing more to share though. Not for now, but he promises to tell if there’s anything he thinks of. Legend accepts that answer too, nodding and setting out again to continue their patrol. 

  He doesn’t get it, but he supposes that’s not the point. How the vet handles the nonsense they throw at him, he can’t fathom, but that he does at all is a blessing. They may laugh and jest about sharp tongues and scathing remarks, but the vet has the patience of a priestess to handle all of them, and he’s thankful for that. 

  He came back wrong, twisted and death-touched and terrifying to those who don’t understand why he is the way he is. It's not fun to explain and it’s tricky to live with, but at least he has a way to control it, even if it does mean asking for help. Still, he doesn’t hate it. His magic is a tool to terrify and harm the enemy, and he values that tool. He doesn’t cherish it, doesn’t adore how it affects those he cares about, but he’s glad he has it. He's glad he has it and he’s working to understand it, to control it.  

  Maybe having someone who understand these things, who knows magic because he’s steeped in it and has lived with it forever- not just unlocked it in a moment of desperation and without proper guidance to master it- will help. Who knows, maybe he can learn something from the vet, maybe even something help Zelda! That would be nice! Being able to return to her and teach her even just the smallest bit about her own power- help her in the way she’d begged the goddesses for, the way he’d wished he could for all the time he’d spent at her side unable to offer more than protection- it’d be nice. 

  Magic is weird, but maybe, maybe, he can get a handle on his Weirdness. 

  At the very least, he can make it shut up now when he needs to. So that’s a start! 

[whentranslatorscry]

Ikusamonogatari

Full EPUB

Hitagi Honeymoon, by nisioisin

001

There was something odd about the name Araragi Hitagi. No matter how I try, it just doesn’t sit right with me. If I were to trace our acquaintance back to our freshman year at Naoetsu Private High School, where we became classmates, I would find that I have known her for almost a decade. Yet every time I see this name, it feels as unfamiliar as if we had only just met. If you ask me to pinpoint whose responsibility this unshakable strangeness was, I can say with absolute confidence that it was none other than mine, still it felt as though trying to force together two jigsaw pieces that don't fit.

Look at the joints; they're practically crumbling.

It was at the hallowed grounds of North Shirahebi Shrine, in the presence of its very god herself, that we swore an irreplaceable oath to bring each other happiness. But once married, there was a hideous sensation, akin to smudging the most precious aspect of a person I hold most dear in my life, the one and only Senjougahara Hitagi, with cheap paints. It was an indescribably disgusting, unsettling feeling.

The wedding gown and white kimono were meant to symbolize something pure, “a canvas ready to be dyed in the colors of our choosing.” This oft-repeated phrase, while understood, felt old-fashioned, archaic to say the least. Moreover, for reasons unbeknownst to me, I had stripped her of her most precious and fundamental possession: her name. The mere thought of this fact felt like a sharp stab, an eternal reminder to accompany me for the rest of my life. Truthfully, the confidence to create a blissful and harmonious home had eluded me.

How unfair, how unjust.

How utterly tragic.

Under such circumstances, it was simply impossible for me to say that I had no sense of guilt.

“It's not bad at all, Koyomi. I think it sounds even better. Araragi Hitagi, see, it rhymes and rolls off the tongue with such ease it's like it's been my name this whole time.”

Although she claimed not to mind, I couldn't help but be painfully aware of the burden imposed on her that should've been equally shared: we were no longer on equal footing, and the intense sense of immorality did not fade as time went on. If anything, my guilt only intensified.

What I mean by “burden” encompasses the need to reapply for a driver's license, passport, and license plate number, among various other things. The name she had carried for a quarter of a century was forcibly and legally stripped away—wasn’t that an unbelievable, unforgivable act of barbarism?

Just like the domestic violence that suddenly emerges after marriage.¹

The life of Araragi Koyomi had always been one of ceaseless battles against all kinds of unreasonable circumstances. So, even now, he should continue to fight for the sake of his family name. But this time, his opponent was not a monster, nor was it a mystery or tale of supernatural transformation, regrettably—it was the country of Japan itself.

Well, it could be argued that there wasn’t much difference between the country of Japan and its world of supernatural creatures, but I can't simply let that claim go unchallenged. As an experienced public servant, someone who had truly sworn loyalty to both the nation of Japan and its people, it was hard to advocate for the immediate abolition of the antiquated custom of married couples sharing the same surname. After being transferred to the FBI for advanced training and subsequently being headhunted for employment, and after buying my own home there, I found myself questioning my own patriotism.

Naturally, if we were to go by logic alone, rather than Hitagi legally becoming Araragi Hitagi, I would have become Senjougahara Koyomi. In fact, I had secretly been working on this plan behind the scenes. At first, everything was going smoothly, but the surreptitiously obtained written documentation was soon discovered by her. Hitagi, that is.

Well done, I must say.

“From the very moment we met, I felt a sense of harmony with Araragi-kun—like we were meant to be together. Also, I don’t want my father's surname to be combined with ‘Koyomi.’”

Okay.

Setting aside the latter part, even she shared the same sentiment as me in the beginning. No matter how fiercely we fought, it seemed as though we were ultimately conquered by convention.

Although marriage itself is inherently a form of constraint, and whose surname is used is of little consequence, in the end, tradition dictates that the wife takes the husband's last name. This custom has been ingrained in society for ages. Indeed, it may make sense from a logical standpoint, but ultimately, it is not logic that we must bow to in this matter.

As I recall, the family of Hachikuji— the god worshiped within the grounds of North Shirahebi Shrine, where I pledged myself in marriage—all bore the mother's surname, Tsunade. But alas, as the twin-tailed lost god once confessed to me:

“In the end, things didn’t work out well for my family, you see. We’re no longer a family. During my third year in elementary school, my parents divorced and I had to change my name. I wonder what the point of it all was.”

That’s all.

When I first heard her speak of that, I was young and naive, so I played it cool and responded with a smooth and seamless reply. Now that I’ve become a party to the incident myself, I can’t help but ruminate on the workings and procedures of the law.

Even when putting aside the fact that I work in law enforcement, it’s not something that a civil servant should say, but indeed, one might call it quite bureaucratic. I have inherited this occupation of police officer from my parents (albeit reluctantly). I even believe that I don’t need to inherit the family name.

If it were high school Hitagi, especially during her most intense and edgy days, she would have unquestionably shoved a stapler deep into my mouth just to make me Senjougahara Koyomi.

She should have been resolute in not relinquishing her father's name— I guess you could say that she has grown softer over time. Well, whether she’s grown soft or not, I guess she’s grown up, too.

Back in my youth— or rather, in high school, I would have said to myself, “Won’t get married then. We won’t be bound by a little piece of paper. To preserve our names, our identities, we'll live together with two surnames under one roof. Hell, even with Oikura if I have to.”

Though in the end, as usual, it would most likely have led to a not-so-happy but rather bad ending. But inside the mind of twenty-four-year-old Araragi Koyomi, countless unbearable adult rationalizations came rushing in like a storm, saying, “Well, but things don't usually work out that way, do they? When you are a member of society, you must take reputation and position into account, and in the long run, Hitagi might also find it hard to live such a stubborn life. Besides, it's self-evident that various procedures would become troublesome if we don't enter the marriage registry, so, on the contrary, if it's just a matter of a single piece of paper, it would be best not to fuss about it and get it over with.”

But wait, what’s this? Has Araragi-kun suddenly become so enlightened that he begins to admonish all those ordinary families who have married uncomplainingly and blandly, keeping their own surnames? The times have changed. Nowadays, you can even go by your maiden name at work. Don't be so annoying and nitpicky about it. People like that aren’t popular, you know?

In all honesty, the idea of living with Oikura is tolerable, but the notion of taking Hitagi as a common-law wife is rather unsavory. As a career officer of the Japanese police force and an unofficial member of the FBI, it wouldn’t be surprising if I suddenly died in the line of duty, at least to the same extent as that hellish Spring Break. With the chances of an unforeseen accident being about fifty-fifty, I would rather avoid a situation where Hitagi might be kept from witnessing my final moments due to a bureaucratic technicality like a discrepancy in our last names. I'm sure everyone is well aware of how prone I am to life-threatening situations. No insurance company would ever enroll me in a life insurance policy.

On the other hand, the reverse was also a possibility.

Hitagi worked in the Japanese branch of a foreign financial firm, and you might think her life wouldn't be in any real danger. But she once confided that because she deals with massive amounts of money within the company daily, when she’s seriously out and about, she needs the accompaniment of bodyguards who cling to her like stalkers. I’m not sure if she was pulling my leg, but every time she leaves her home, she carries the latest version of her will with her.

“How strange, I was once swindled out of all my possessions, and now my job is akin to that of a swindler, treating strangers' money as my own and making it multiply incessantly—through stocks, foreign exchange, and cryptocurrencies that I'm not even sure really exist. It's all an enigmatic, ethereal mystery.”

Though her words carried a hint of self-mockery, it was because she had been both a pampered heiress in a mansion and a penniless tenant in a wooden box that she had managed to acquire certain skills. Good or bad, she believed that money was but an illusory thing.

Of course, that's not to say that she could approve of the person she was when she lost her weight and her mother… no, that too was a cherished memory and a cherished trauma.

It could never be forgotten.

Right.

These were the life experiences of Senjougahara Hitagi. Could they really be covered up with just my surname? As if erasing her individuality.

“I think the name change is fun, like a game. But why do you care so much, Koyomi? Is it because you're thinking of another person?”

“Another person?”

It's hard to ignore the seemingly lighthearted remark that it's like a fun game, it feels all the more like an attempt to escape reality. But for now, let’s let it slide. So, who could this other person be?

“Shinobu. Although I’m not sure if I can call her a human person. Come to think of it, Koyokoyo, wasn't it during that Spring Break that you cruelly stole her name?”

Koyokoyo.

The endearing nickname I miss so much…

I also used to call her by the nickname “Gahara-san,” but after she changed her surname, I could no longer address her in this way. It’s embarrassing for adults like us to use such nicknames, but hearing that I could never use it again made me feel as if I had been deprived of a basic human right, leaving me in a state of distress.

It was true, no matter how you put it: the King of Aberrations, the iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade— the name of the vampire who has lived for six hundred years.

But it was taken from her, just like life itself.

After losing her prestigious title, the oddity specialist Oshino Meme gave her a new name— Oshino Shinobu.

The man in a Hawaiian shirt said, employing his specialist's surname as a constraint, he would seal her away, deeply and securely.

Which, to be honest, was contradictory and riddled with double standards. Yet, for me, calling her Oshino Shinobu resonated truer and felt more befitting for her as I have known her by that name for longer.

Of course, nobody refers to her as Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade nowadays, but there seems to be a faction of specialists who still call her the “Old Heart-Under-Blade.”

Old Heart-Under-Blade.

What an antiquated name.

“When you think about it, it's a strange and wonderful thing to have the word 'old' added to your name. Don’t you think so, Old Gahara-san?”

“Indeed, if you are going to keep calling me that, I don't want to continue this conversation.”

“I have already experienced the guilt of taking away someone's name… What's going on with this marriage, it's like I'm making the same mistakes over again.”

“It's almost like a de facto remarriage.”

“No, it's a first marriage, actually.”

Although this example exposed the depths of my subconscious, it didn’t entirely resolve the issue which had already taken deep root. It seemed that because I had done it once before, I no longer cared about doing it again now, as if to say that killing one person was the same as killing two. This frightening thought was something that neither Japan nor America would endorse.

Rather, should we not learn from our mistakes?

That had been an emergency measure taken out of necessity for Shinobu, so it couldn’t be said that it was entirely wrong… In this day and age, I can't help but think there might have been another way to do it. It's hard not to question whether my decision to barely keep alive by turning the vampire— the King of Aberrations— that otherwise faced certain death, into my slave, was an immature one, driven by a child's desire for simplicity.

Even as the former Heart-Under-Blade happily gobbles on Mister Donuts in my shadow… And since it's acceptable to use your original family name in the workplace, why then must we discriminate and not apply the same rule to other situations?

With this in mind, I might as well create a business card featuring my Senjougahara pseudonym while at work. I wonder if it's possible to mark your former name on the police officer's guidebook. I'd have to ask Chief Kouga about that next time.

“A seemingly insignificant battle, huh? Ah, yes, an infinitesimally small skirmish indeed.”

“Sounds like you're saying ‘overmorrow's tomorrow.’”

“Even if you were to take the name Senjougahara, it wouldn't make any difference. It won't even make you feel better. It's like we share the same hardships, but it's not the same at all, it's not. The constant labeling of hardships might be painful as well.”

“Do we have no choice but to fight against the state?”

“That’d be quite the unexpected turn of events. Just imagine your high school supporters, they would be flabbergasted as they watch Araragi Koyomi take on the world of politics in a sequel.”

“But I can't overlook those die-hard fans' support. So, should I run for office under the name Senjougahara Koyomi?”

“In that case, to ease the voter process, it might be best to simplify the complex kanji in 'Senjougahara,’ say, using hiragana instead.”

“Must I change my name even if I run for office? Just because it's hard to write. What a troublesome thing, follows me everywhere. But revolutionaries didn't use their real names either.”

“Are we talking about starting a revolution now, like Hanekawa-san?”

“I can't use my real name to run a campaign and cause trouble for my parents. I'm not that unfilial.”

“I wonder about that. It may not be limited to revolutionaries. Nowadays, it seems that a pseudonym one can choose themselves is more valued.”

The conversation had delved into the complicated topic of real names versus pseudonyms… In such an era when anonymity is held in high regard, aren't real names becoming more important than ever? Apparently, in the past, one could not reveal their real name to anyone other than their parents.

“I'm not sure if I can let such a thing be erased on a whim.”

“Was marrying me also on a whim, Koyomi?”

“I retract my previous statement and apologize under the name of Senjougahara Koyomi.”

“You are apologizing under a pseudonym.”

“I apologize under the name of Sen jou ga ha ra Koyomi.”

“Please stop apologizing like a politician. I don't want such a person to be the future chief of the National Police Agency.”

“Your demands are too high for a husband.”

“Philosophy and thought do warrant contemplation, but let's think more about the pressing needs of life, Koyomi. Weren't we supposed to be excitedly discussing our honeymoon destination?”

Right, we were.

Having completed the wedding ceremony, with a god as our witness, and the tedious paperwork, we had finally settled down and arranged a meeting, albeit belatedly, to discuss our long-awaited honeymoon plans.

Although the novel coronavirus could be said to have been eradicated from the earth, given that I currently have a foothold in the FBI and Hitagi is a young leader at the Japanese branch of a foreign firm, we were communicating remotely more often than not. Nevertheless, we both understand the importance of a meaningful face-to-face conversation. After all, it would be impolite not to attend to such a significant matter in person.

Our wedding had narrowly avoided taking place entirely remotely, but fortunately, it was held with only family members present, regardless of any infectious disease-related concerns. It was charming and intimate.

“The only thing I regret is not getting to drag empty cans behind the car; I wanted to try it.”²

“Back in the old days, you would've tied me to the car and dragged me around the city as a public execution. But a honeymoon, huh?”

To begin with, neither Hitagi nor I were particularly fond of traveling; in fact, we both frequently shuttled across the Pacific Ocean. So, the word “travel” doesn't strike a deep chord in me. It's merely a transfer through different places, and it's difficult to attribute more significance to it.

I'd much prefer leisurely chats at home like this—without having to specifically go somewhere.

“I agree. Why not take a short trip then? How about the supermarket?”

“That’s too close.”

“But it sounds so super.”

“Well, you have a point. Supermarket is a pretty bold name.”

“But then, if the honeymoon has no significance, we’d better have not had a wedding at all, since it wouldn't be significant anyway.”

This statement sounds like something the old Hitagi would say—not Araragi Hitagi, but Senjougahara Hitagi.

In fact, many people these days consider weddings to be a grand waste of money, and couples often quarrel during their honeymoon, that’s why “Narita Divorce” gets thrown around as a phrase.³

Nowadays, you might also hear “Haneda Divorce” or “Kanku Divorce.”⁴

“Traveling has a way of revealing a couple's true nature, for better or worse. That's why I think it's a necessary ceremony.”

“A ceremony, huh?”

Surprisingly, Oshino was a man who valued such customs.

We can't take this lightly, then… considering our relationship.

“Speaking of which, that plan to go to Hokkaido to eat crab still hasn't come to fruition.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to go?”

“It’s tempting to tie up loose ends like a completed achievement, but it might not be the best season for that. I'd rather enjoy the best crab in wintertime anyway, that's what I really want.”

It's a tough one. Hokkaido, seemingly near but further than Washington D.C., has gradually taken on the nuance of being saved for our enjoyment during our twilight years. However, since we have refrained from indulging up until this point, it is only natural to savor the finest crab in the ideal setting of Hokkaido.

Yet as we speak, the warming of Hokkaido progresses at a steady pace. By the time we reached our retirement years, would it still be a snowy landscape?

“If we were to travel overseas, I think we should consider Europe or Africa. Including South America, both of us travel to the Americans for work often. Or what do you think about crossing the Atlantic Ocean?”

“There is also Oceania. Why not eat crab in Australia? I think you can't climb Ayers Rock anymore… Maybe New Zealand?”

“Apparently the stars there are beautiful. It's famed as a World Heritage of starry skies, they're even working to register it as an actual World Heritage site or something.”

A bit vague, but hmm.

Come to think of it, ever since high school—no, even before that during her sheltered upbringing, Hitagi has had a profound love for the starry skies. An unapologetic adoration.

If I recall, our first date was also at an observatory.

“In that case, what about revisiting that observatory nearby? It's only a few hours' drive.”

“Might take a bit longer if we dragged a heap of cans behind.”

“We probably shouldn't try that on Japanese roads, you know.”

As a cop, I couldn't pardon this.

The idea of revisiting a dating spot from our youth was not a bad one, but Hitagi didn't seem too keen on it, and she exaggeratedly tilted her head—a gesture straight out of the anime.

"What's up. If there are no lodging facilities, we could rent a camper van or something. The state should…"

"There's no need to bring up the state for that. You should be able to rent a car by yourself, right? Anyway, over there, I go pretty often, usually with my dad and Kanbaru."

"Really?"

While I was training as an FBI investigator, Senjougahara and Kanbaru rekindled their relationship… It's good that she's getting along with her family, which was delicate for a time, but still.

Whether that's how she truly feels or not, at least Hitagi says it's fine with her, but what does her father—and my in-law—think about it?

To have the surname he gave his daughter smeared by some random guy's…

Whoops, gotta stop thinking about it. If I'm not careful, my thoughts get pulled in that direction. The gravity of the issue is too strong.

I'm sure the meaning is just as precious either way, but the name Senjougahara is quite rare, so I can't help but contemplate the loss…

"Rather than somewhere you always go, like the supermarket, it should be somewhere special for the ceremony. If it's too familiar, the memories don't stick as strongly. Shouldn't you make memories of going somewhere you've wanted to, like an observatory? Or New Zealand is good, but wasn't there an amazing one in Hawaii or something?"

“Hmm. Electronic telescopes on that scale exceed my realm of expertise. But in the end, it seems we come back to America. Another idea is to go all the way to the Arctic Circle to see the auroras.”

“The Arctic. Mm, I wonder if Kagenui-san is doing all right.”

She doesn't live at the North Pole year-round of course, but when I hear “Arctic” she’s the first thing I think of—her and her shikigami. With that shikigami we could go anywhere in an instant... But the days of merrily living with a corpse doll under the same roof ended quite some time ago. Fraternizing with corpses is strictly forbidden nowadays.

The auroras. Not an uninteresting prospect.

I believe they can be observed either in Canada or the Nordic countries. If given a choice between the two, I would lean towards the latter in this case.

How about Finland, often said to be the closest to Europe? Who wouldn't want to taste the cinnamon rolls straight from their birthplace? The progress of women's social advancement in the Nordic countries is also noteworthy, and I assume, with a vague image in mind, that there wouldn't be any stipulation requiring spouses to share the same surname.

“Aha!”

And then it struck me.

It struck me like a shooting star.

As I've grown older, my brain has lost its freshness, and such instant inspirations have become all too rare these days. But at this moment, I felt that I had truly been hit by inspiration.

Not merely a shooting star, it could be likened to the brilliance of the Aurora itself.

Too bad about the Finnish licorice, but there was no need to cross the ocean for one. Couldn't there be an equally fantastic location in our very own country for our honeymoon? Although we wouldn’t be able to see any auroras for sure, the destination would more than compensate for it. We could call it a return to our roots.

Nay, there's no other way to describe it other than our roots.

“Senjougahara.”

“What? Do you still intend to rebel against our nation?”

“No, no, it's my love for our country! And our honeymoon destination.”

“……”

“Let's go to Senjougahara. According to our class president who knows everything, it's one of Japan's most beautiful marshlands for stargazing.”

Next Chapter

Originally: "DV". Refers to domestic violence in Japan, where men who were previously reserved but become violent after marriage are called "DV Men".

Dragging empty cans behind a car is a couple activity, the loud clatter they produce being a symbol of auspiciousness.

Tokyo Narita Airport is the largest international airport in Japan, and a necessary stop for many newlywed couples traveling abroad. However, because some shortcomings or habits of each person are exposed during the trip, many couples choose to divorce after leaving Narita Airport when their honeymoon comes to an end.

Haneda: Tokyo Haneda Airport. Kanku: Kansai International Airport. 

[neon-dynasty]

Sidequests

After reviving Crono, the party still has more work to do before using their newfound motivation to defeat Lavos. Everyone (except Crono and Ayla) has unfinished business to attend to across the ages.

(As always, if you have any suggestions on wording, balancing, or changing everything about the abilities, please let me know! And if you do not want your artwork used for this, also please let me know!)

Here we go!

In the Middle Ages and Present, there's a barren desert where there was once a lush forest. Speaking with a young woman who lives nearby, the party learns that the desiccation of the environment is due to an overabundance of monsters. They defeat the monsters, but more work needs to be done, over many human generations. Robo volunteers, as it is his mission to help humans. He revitalizes the land and is enshrined and venerated for his efforts.

This card represents Robo's various tasks in reviving an entire forest. I don't need to explain each one at this point. I'm not too happy with the red ability, so if you have a better suggestion, go for it.

As for the incredible artwork, it was done by Tumblr user @anthonyvaccarelli and it can be seen here.

Magus needs to rein in his former generals, who have since relocated to Ozzie's old fortress. Honestly, I'm not sure what the real purpose of this was, but I like to think that Magus wanted to clean up his mess with these three.

I didn't want to do too much work with the generals, so they all went on one card. They don't have the boss mechanic, which is a little weird. I don't even know what they'd drop, and for whom. If you have any suggestions, please let me know.

The artwork was done by Uncle Snowy, Tomoshi, and DeepInk, which didn't really fit on the artist line. It was for the Chrono Trigger Musical, by Man on the Internet, seen here.

One of the most gut-wrenching parts of Chrono Trigger is the Origin of Machines questline. Robo needs to go to where he and the other robots were made. What he finds is a nightmare beyond words. Humans are being processed to be made into machines. His former friend attacks him and he discovers that the administrator of the facility, the Mother Brain, has been reprogramming robots around the world to kill all humans. Robo needs to destroy not only his dearest companion, but also his creator in order to keep humans alive on the dying planet.

This is just a top-down card representing the humans being processed. People go in, robots come out. It's an enchantment artifact because even though this represents an event, the event it represents is the machine supremacy. I went with Servo tokens because they're fairly well-established in Magic, but also, I couldn't find artwork of the robot enemies.

The artwork on this card, however, is done by Yuto Sakurai, one of my favorite CT fan artists. I can't believe I hadn't used his artwork before, but here we are. You can see the original piece here.

This is a quest that makes full use of having access to a time machine. In the future, the party comes across a cave housing a shrine to the Kingdom of Zeal's exhausted Sun Stone. Before they can see it, though, they have to face off against the Sun of the Sun, its puzzling guardian.

I made this card so long ago! It's very top-down, but I like it. It's meant to be hard to kill, but worth the effort in the end.

The art was done by Enair and posted on Amino.

Prominence is a photo of a real scientific phenomenon, the blue flame whirl, taken by Sriram Hariharan. Sun Stone is a cartoony fantasy object, drawn by Seo EagleSage.

Frog also has unfinished business. The ghost of Cyrus is haunting an old manor on Choras, and the party helps clear the monsters so that the spirit can rest in peace. Cyrus tells his old friend how proud he is of the man he's become, and the closure allows Frog to use the Masamune to its fullest potential.

The mechanics of this card are very simple. Maybe a little too simple. I'm also not sure about the mana cost. The ability is very much in white's piece of the color wheel, which makes it a little awkward that players can't use it in a Frog Commander deck.

There's such little fanart out there of this particular quest, so I went with a scene from the opening cinematic.

Finally, Marle's and her father have to repair their frayed relationship, but the chancellor keeps making things worse between them. Ultimately, he attempts a coup and it's revealed that he's the descendant of Yakra, defeated four hundred years ago. The party defeats the grudge-holding Mystic and presents evidence that the King did not sell Guardia's national treasure - the Rainbow Shell. Melchior then fashions gear out of a little bit of the shell, and it's some of the best in the game.

I made the Rainbow card over a year ago! This was before I started posting the cards in chronological order. Here's the description from the Imgur gallery: Crono's most iconic weapon. I wanted an equipment that got better the more colors you were able to pay into it. I think this can be tweaked to be a little better, if not less interesting. We'll see.

As for the art, once I saw this piece by Ahakarin, my jaw dropped and I knew a card needed to be made.

I also made the PrismSpecs card a really long time ago, but never posted it. I love the protection it grants based on colors, but I'm very proud of that flavor text. I think it's funny, at any rate.

The art on PrismSpecs is done by Lushie. It was the most colorful and cartoony art I'd ever used for a Magic card up to that point.

And that's that for the sidequests! It's not like there are two more coming up or anything like that.

[heartheaded]

[ 23 ] at the foot of a massive, venerated shrine, one that's been forgotten by time and worn down with age. // for felix :)

Complete and total isolation is harder to hope with than one might think. One might think being by themselves is the best decision at the time, at a moment when the presence of even a single other person would be overwhelming and overbearing on a soul oh so weary from disbelief.

As a monk of the seasons, he thought he had a place in his monetary of birth. Felix had never known anything else beyond that forest and those solid walls--not that he was trapped, per say, but he did used to live with a name that never fit quite right.

... Whatever the case, he'd ruined it. Completely fucked it up. Banned himself for good measure. With the weight of whatever was going on in his head, the abbess was frustrated with it. He could never learn, because his mental space was unmistakably shattered.

A nasty twist of fate meant that his body wasn't his own, and sometimes others would circle in to take the charge, and without one being in the body themselves, this sounds like nothing more than the ravings of a madman.

... And the abbess was at least willing to humor that, until the spirit of Summer nearly burned down her beautiful monastery. So much phasing through his head, so much he can't go over, and what mattered in the end?

His banishment. His order to never come back. His pilgrimage into the lands that never once greeted his feet, and yet off he was sent. And for hours did he go without stopping. Without ceasing. Even when exhaustion threatened to creep in, Felix continued until the squish of fresh earth gave way to solid concrete.

Sun bled through his eyes several times during this journey, but this light was brief, metaphorical. A temple. Different from the only one he's known, ancient and lost to time. He recognizes the dilapidation of age, feels the crumbling of a once great purpose.

The look of it has long limbs settle in, for a long-awaited rest. He knows not if someone would be nearby, to see the green eladrin in such a disheveled and forgotten state. Perhaps he feels the same, running thin fingers through pink hair. Abandoned.

Felix settles down on what was maybe once a pew, takes a well-deserved rest from his days-on-end hike

🌷🌷 > ❝... I sure hope whomever this belonged to doesn't mind my stay... Our stay, I suppose...❞

[divineningyou]

🙌

Send a 🙌 and I’ll introduce you to an NPC related to my Muse. — accepting!

“It has been thousands of years since I last awoke, when we fled from the usurper who took our world. I dreamt the entire time, but the dreams and lives of the Tatarasunan people kept my dreams interesting and far from dull. even the memories of the long-deceased Orobashi found me. My dreams became boring when everyone left, so I followed the dreams of their descendants.”

“one inhabitant in particular, a human doll fashioned from pieces of my body, spoke of an electro gnosis that was meant to be his. what a cutie, i thought! my power, belonging to him?”

lips curling into a sly smile, Kurikara chuckles at the old memories. he was still amused by the little doll that went around causing problems over power that was not his to begin with.

“I adored his pure, little self but I resented what became of him. Over time, he suffered, became more haughty, feigning happiness, but I knew what dwelt in his soul. I watched him dive into that tree, thinking he was doing something admirable for his friend while ridding himself of a painful existence. I watched him overcome and be reborn anew, like a Sovereign would. I commend him for putting himself on the right path.”

“the pieces of me were spread amongst other places of the world. I compelled those who possessed them to take me to any remnants of the Sovereigns. Neuvillette seems to be… enjoying himself. The others…” her expression sours.

“On the bright side, you are well. I am surprised I haven’t found you sooner.”

more important info (a theory) under the read more regarding kurikara and Scaramouche!

I headcanon/theorize that the Great One under Kannazuka/Tatarasuna is the electro sovereign, Kurikara. A shrine maiden mentions this ‘great one’ at the end of a thunder sakura quest (the one where the Fatui awaken the dead hypostasis. I forgot the name of this quest already).

I also theorize that, besides possibly Makoto and Irminsul, Ei used pieces of the Sovereign (or Orobashi) to make Scaramouche. Raiden Shogun’s character story mentioned she used a huge amount of resources to make her dolls. The body of a deceased/resting Sovereign or Orobashi could be the ‘unimaginable amount of resources.’

as stated in the above passage.

I also believe Scaramouche’s fate will bring him back to Tatarasuna, hopefully to help rebuild it, and that would open up interactions between him and the Great One that rests below Kannazuka.

Why do I call this sovereign Kurikara? well, Genshin is part of the Honkaiverse, whether people believe it or not. In Honkai Impact, Raiden Mei had a dragon named Kurikara. It was created from/uses the dead body of Benares, Kiana’s dragon.

Why is Ei/Inazuma without a dragon in Genshin? Many wrongfully attribute Orobashi as her dragon, but he belongs to Enkanomiya/Watatsumi. I believe Inazuma’s dragon is resting.

Also, Kurikara is the dragon sword of Fudo Myo-o and destroys delusions and attachments. Kurikara is also the draconic personification of energy developed through sword practice and iirc, Fudo Myo-o can turn into Kurikara.

Swords were a big part of Scaramouche’s lore. He spent time with the swordsmiths (Niwa Hisahide, Katsuragi and Mikoshi Nagamasa), witnessed the creation of the Daitara Nagamasa claymore, and performed a sword dance. He may even have knowledge of Isshin Art, depending on how much Niwa taught him.

Considering all of these points, it is fitting for him to be made from a dragon heavily associated with swords irl.

My friend Eoyorha also pointed out that Fudo Myo-o himself was wrathful, wears a lotus on his head and uses anger as a form of enlightenment, which fits Wanderer perfectly.

and that’s it! that’s my simple theory on the electro sovereign and her/his connections to Scaramouche!

I also gave him/her a Meiface + sometimes looking like Scara, in rp, until Kuri is given an official humanoid appearance.

thank you for sending this ask 😭 I have been wanting to introduce Kurikara here!

[rjhpandapaws]

Like a Rose Something will Grow

//TW: Low Self Worth, Self Deprecation, and mild suicidal thought

Link has always been a light sleeper, or at least it feels that way. He's been a light sleeper since he woke up in the Shrine of Resurrection, he doesn't know if the Link he was before that was a light sleeper, and he doesn't care to find out. Since coming back to his house in Hateno it's been worse, the slightest noise will set him awake for the rest of the day. Unless it's raining. The rain reminds him enough of Zora's Domain that he can manage a few hours of rest despite the noise beyond the walls of his house. Which is why he finds himself surprise to be woken up by something despite the heavy spring rain. His ears flick as he resigns himself to being awake and listens for what his mind tells him is a threat. Instead he hears Sidon's voice, "I promise I mean no harm, I am looking for my friend Link. Prince - Queen - Zelda told me he often resides in this town when he isn't traveling." He can't hear Boulson's response over the crack of thunder but shortly there after he hears the bridge creak dangerously. It wasn't meant to carry the weight of anything much larger than a horse. He prayed it wouldn't break as Sidon crossed. That thought was immediately followed by the realization that Sidon had found his house. Found him.

Link hadn't expected him to come looking. When he had gathered his senses and teleported away, he assumed that would be the end of it. Everyone else had moved on without him. Was it so cruel of him to expect the same of Sidon? He sighed and braced himself for the knock that was sure to come to his door. Sidon was never good at letting him sleep, but it never comes. Well not at least until the sun is well over the horizon. "Link, I know you're here. Your horse is in the yard." Sidon's voice has a hitch of, something, to it. "I just want to talk. Apologize, actually, for my outburst at the river. Please let me in." Link rolls out of bed, might as well get this over with. Sidon will apologize for reacting to his sadness, remind him that he is a hero, and over a place to stay if he needs one in the same strained way everyone else has with the hopes Link never takes them up on it. He won't of course, he has this house and it's nice enough, and sometimes it even rains enough for him to sleep.

When he opens the door Sidon is crouched almost comically to fit in the frame. Link steps aside and gestures for him to enter. It would be better for Sidon if they had this conversation outside, he wouldn't have to bend uncomfortably; but Link would rather not have the whole town witness his weakness. Sidon takes a seat on the floor once Link has closed the door, he's less at risk of bashing his head on the ceiling like this. Worry pinches his brow as he looks Link over. And Link pretends not to notice. He knows how he looks. His hair is in a loose bun and uncombed, he's in an old shirt that's seen much better days, and pants that are in the same state. He's got dark circles and he hasn't been eating enough. He knows this already. "You look unwell my friend." The gentleness of Sidon's voice threatens to pull him apart at the seams.

'I'm Fine.' He signs sharply, but it doesn't matter because Sidon's eyes have landed on his sister's spear mounted safely on the wall. Unused since it was gifted to him. "You are not fine." Right, Sidon had a wide field of vision, "I won't ask if you don't want to tell me, but I cannot leave you on your own while you are like this." 'You Should.' He replies dryly, 'You Have Better Things To Worry Over.' Sidon bares his teeth, and Link knows he's crossed a line, but as soon as the anger is shown it gets buried, "Let me decide what is worth my worry Link." There's a coolness to his words that keeps Link's hands firmly at his sides, "I wanted to apologize for the scene I made at the river, it was rather undignified of me to declare I still needed you when you've had so little time to recover. I am sorry I made you feel like you had to hide from me." 'Not From You.' Link signs carefully, 'I'm Just A Coward.' Sidon opens his mouth but Link beats him to it, 'Don't.' He signs sharply, 'I Do Not Want Praise. I'm Not The Hero, He Died In The Castle. I Am Just Link. I Am Afraid.' He paused, 'Let Me.'

Zora can't cry, not physically at least, Link isn't sure why or how he knows that, but he does; despite this Sidon looks like he's ready to shed heavy tears at Link's words. He closes his eyes for a long moment and Link watches him collect himself. When his amber eyes open again there is a distance to them that hurts Link more than Ganon or any of his blights had. "If that's what you want." Sidon says quietly, "I will be out keeping watch until you are ready to reach out." He struggles with the door for a moment, his large claws are too big for the handle, but once he has it open he's out quickly enough that someone might have thought he'd been burned. In a way, Link supposed he had. He settles in the pond as promised and the door closes between them. Link lets it.

He loses count of the days eventually. Link catches another glimpse of him through the loft window and sighs quietly. Of course he hasn't left. On some level Link knew he wouldn't. Not until he knew Link was well. Guard sleep, Sidon had called it once. It was a common practice among Zora who were particularly close. One would guard the sleeping pool of another until they recovered. Be it from illness, injury, or low mood. He should have been honored that Sidon cared enough to do this for him. Except Link couldn't see himself coming out of this anytime soon, and that pond was far too small for Sidon. There wasn't much to come out of, there wasn't much of anything. He'd saved the world. There was nothing left for him to do except wait for any one of the deaths he had cheated to come back for him. Sidon didn't need him, despite his outburst at the river. He was strong and had his whole life ahead of him. He could get through this. He just needed to let Link go, like everyone else had.

By the time spring had turned into a sweltering summer, Link couldn't look outside without feeling some form of guilt. This weather was far too warm for Sidon, this much time in it had to be bad for his health. Still Link waited until he was properly asleep before leaving the house. He'd made ice pillars with the slate and put them on either end of the pond. The chill it seemed was enough to wake Sidon. He spotted Link in a matter of moments and gave a weak smile, "You're here." Link wasn't sure how to respond to the weigh of relief in his voice, and pulled up the warp screen on the tablet. Sidon was faster and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him into the water. "No running this time." He took the tablet and set it on one of the pillars out of Link's reach, "I've done my waiting and we need to talk."

'Then Talk.' He signs flatly. "Why do you hate me? If it wasn't the river then why?" He lets go of Link if only to clench his fists, "I don't understand, I've given you space, and my words, nothing seems right." 'You Don't Want Me.' Link signs, all his old anger bubbling over, 'You Want Champion. Hylian Hero. You Want Savior, Dear Friend. You Do Not Want Link.' A sob rattles up between them and Link isn't sure who it came from, 'I Am Not Hero. I Am A Corpse With Too Much Time Left.' Sidon is quiet, truly quiet for a very long time, and Link learns from his silence, that it's him that's crying. He curls in on himself as if that would be all it took to hide this from Sidon. "No, Link... I never meant to make you feel that way." Sidon says and it's barely above a whisper, "I thought.... I'm not friends with the Hero of Time. I'm friends with a ridiculous little Hylian who doesn't sleep enough even for the dead, and solves most of his problems by setting them on fire. I'm friends with someone who's still learning who he is, and one of those things needs to be how dear he is to me. My hands are full enough with him that I wouldn't have time for whatever hero may come my way. So please don't cry."

Link feels something break, whether its something physical, or just one of his many layers of armor he isn't sure. But he finds himself crashing into Sidon and finally letting go. Sidon, as kind as he is, holds him while he cries and when he's collected himself Sidon gives him back the slate. "Let's head back." He says kindly, "You could use some real sleep, and I have rather missed my resting pool." Link nods before grabbing Sidon's hand. They fade into blue light together and when they arrive in Zora's Domain again, Link almost feels like putting down roots.

[wing-ed-thing]

Mob Wife (Kakuzu x Reader, ft. Hidan) Part IV

Synopsis: The Akatsuki are in emergency mode. Kakuzu leads Hidan to the only place he knows for sure is safe to regroup.

Word Count: 

Warnings/Tags: Violence, Blackmail, Language, Fem!Reader, HouseWife!Reader, Moll!Reader, Attempt at Humor, Ceremonial Drinking of Sake, Traditional Wedding

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Finale

Notes: It’s back. Writing Hidan has got me feeling a certain way rn

It rained on your wedding day: weather fitting for, and not minded by, a criminal and a deserter. As you approached the temple, he tried to tell you many times that you were going to be turned away, but as you spoke to the shrine masters, you were greeted warmly and welcomed. You were young with a warm face that offset Kakuzu’s intimidating exterior. Everyone always loved you right away, a way about you that Kakuzu could never begin to consider replicating. With your open heart, you brought a foreign concept into his world: acceptance. The few priests and priestesses at the temple on the border of the Land of Stone looked upon you kindly, a kindness that you and Kakuzu continued to repay years later. The small village of a few hundred that housed that shrine would never see a shinobi attack. Now, only you continue to repay years later.

You could tell that Kakuzu didn’t like being in the temple in the slightest. He had never been one for religion or structure or ceremonies, so you tried not to laugh the first time you saw him in his montsuki haori hakama. You wondered how much grumbling went into getting Kakuzu in such formal attire with a goofy, lopsided grin. Even as he gazed upon your amused, upturned lips, his infamous temper laid unusually dormant. Kakuzu never thought that he would see his own wedding day. Being the kind of man he was, he never thought that he’d have one. He didn’t think that he deserved it, but for once as you stood in front of him in your shiromuku, all of his jaded thoughts seemed to fade. Of course with you, all doors opened.

Kakuzu knelt next to you at the shrine, ever stoic. He put his hair up before the ceremony and secured it neatly behind his head. You remembered it when it was short. As the priest announced your marriage to the gods, you couldn’t help but glance at Kakuzu out of the corner of your eye. He held himself together better than you imagined he would.

“Well, yes. I am an adult,” he would tell you later.

But at that moment, he received the first sakazuki. The priest's vessel tipped over the small cup two times before pouring. Kakuzu brought the dish up to his lips and took three sips: pointless seeing that neither of you had parents, but traditional nonetheless. You were taught to always honor your ancestors, but you doubted that Kakuzu felt the same. You received your cup and the same sake, taking the same three sips and the ceremony went on. The second sakazuki represented your vow to care for each other. You received a slightly larger cup and once again, you each touched the sake to your lips three times. The third represented fortune and fertility.

The Heavens, the Earth, and the People.

You offered Kakuzu a light smile as you moved to the next part of the ceremony, a gesture to assure him that it was almost over. He would have rolled his eyes in any other setting, but Kakuzu didn’t even have to speak for you to know exactly what he meant. You knew that more than anything, he was happy to be with you. Out of all the things that he had done as a shinobi, he could handle a stuffy ceremony.

“I thought you liked stuffy things,” you teased him later, parts of your robes slung over forearms and shoulders for better mobility as you walked through the gardens. Your hand rested in his as you balanced yourself on some raised, rock ledges. His expression could have easily been mistaken for exasperation as he scoffed, but you knew better. He looked happy. “You’re a shinobi. Now that’s stuffy!”

The priest had you stand and you received a flowering branch to offer to the gods. As you held the sprig in your hand, you glanced at Kakuzu. His eyes met your own and you quietly prayed over your offerings before presenting them together, stem first. You bowed together, the rituals vaguely familiar to you as you performed them.

With the blessings of the gods, you had received your rings. Your thumb ran over the skin of Kakuzu’s hand. They had a familiar gruffness to them and held smooth bumps from old scars. His fingernails were short. You slid the band onto his ring finger. The black suited him. He squeezed the fingers of your other hand. The space behind your eyes stung as you held back tears watching as he placed the ring on your hand.

Neither of you had family, so you thanked the shrine priests and priestesses and enjoyed their hospitality. You took a single picture. It was the same frame that you held in your hands now.

Kakuzu walked out a few hours ago, taking Hidan with him. Your kitchen was, for the most part, wrecked. Your doing. Your tears had since dried up and your trembling was beginning to fade. With a shaky breath, you brought yourself to your feet. You placed the picture face-down on the counter and reached for the broom in the corner. Your heart hurt, but the world continued on. And if the world continued on, so should you.

***

You didn’t want to eat, you didn’t feel hungry, but you stood over the sink anyway biting into whatever you could pull from your fridge. You cleaned up the kitchen to the best of your ability. Trash piled up in neat bins outside: splintered wood, broken plates, and any other particles of dust that you managed to sweep up. You could handle it later. At least the rest of the kitchen was spotless. You glanced down at the thick wedding band that sat in your hand. Twirling it between your fingers, you bit into your bell pepper like an apple. That was the kind of night you were having.

A harsh pounding came from the front door and for a split second you wondered if your husband came back. Ex-husband. You didn’t think so. You kept your eyes on the kitchen window but the pounding continued adamantly. A slight shiver went down the back of your neck. The next farm wasn’t for miles. That was definitely not Kakuzu.

You put down your pepper and rolled out your utensil drawer. Your fingers danced across the kunai strapped to the bottom as you silently hoped that your training hadn’t worn off too horribly. The banging ceased as the doorknob began to rattle. The door swung open and you launched your kunai with immense velocity and precision. It was snatched out of the air.

“Fuck! That hurts like a bitch!”

Hidan stood in the entryway with his hand still held up and wrapped around your weapon. Blood dripped onto your floors as the kunai clattered to the ground. He shook out his palm, now sporting a deep gash. All you could do was stand and blink, wondering why he was there and if Kakuzu was with him. Hidan threw his cloak onto the rack. It slid, hardly staying on as he marched over to you. The door didn’t fit into its frame the same as it did before and there was no sign of Kakuzu.

“Can you patch me up, lady?” He looked around your kitchen for somewhere to sit, but found none. He dripped more onto your floors. You quickly guided his wrist over your sink and looked up at him. Beads of water fell down his face. You didn’t even hear the rain outside.

“What happened?” you asked sternly, your voice cracking a bit with worry. Hidan groaned.

“You fucked up my hand, can you at least fix me? I’m traumatized over here.” You sighed, yanking him forward before turning the running water on over his hand. You held it there for a second as if telling him to keep it there before running off to get your medical kit.

“Hidan, you have to tell me if there is an emergency,” you said as you heaved the box onto the counter from your spare room. You cleaned his palm with soap and disinfectant before applying pressure. While you didn’t have to worry about blood loss with Hidan, you also didn’t want him passing out on your kitchen floor either. That would make one more thing to clean up. “Hidan—” You pulled the gauze extra tight. He didn’t seem to be listening to you. —“Is there an emergency?”

“No, lady, it was just cold as fuck and Kakuzu’s got a stick up his ass that’s worse than usual. But you already know what that’s like.” The atmosphere stood still at the mention of Kakuzu’s name.

You knew that you shouldn’t worry about him. As far as you were concerned, he had just divorced you a few hours ago, and even if he hadn’t, you were certain that he could take care of himself. You apparently didn’t do a great job at masking your worry.

He usually didn’t care about the effect of his words, but as you frowned to yourself, Hidan couldn’t help but consider how sad you looked. He pursed his lips, never one for comforting others. For a split second, he wondered whether or not he should have brought up his partner at all. Two fingers gently bumped the bottom of your chin and you looked up at Hidan.

“Don’t look so down. It doesn’t look good on you.” He hesitated. “He’ll come back.”

You dropped his wrapped hand, not noticing that you’ve been drawing loops around his knuckles with your finger.

“I don’t know. He’s usually pretty certain about things and I can’t dwell on that.” You shook your head, turning the water back on to wash your own hands. “You have to go. I know that you have things to do and my— and Kakuzu won’t like that you’re here.” He pouted as you moved around him. You had blood to clean up.

“But it’s raining…” he pouted, expression falling in your peripheral. “And he’s miserable right now which means I’m miserable. C’mon let me stay, I’m miserable.”

“Hidan.” You turned to him and leaned on the doorway from your kitchen to your small living area. “Your partner doesn’t live here anymore.” You flicked on the entryway light, your bucket in hand. Hidan followed behind you, now taking your spot in the doorframe.

“But that doesn’t mean that I have to leave. You know he’s being stupid, but that doesn’t mean that I need to suffer out in the rain because Kakuzu’s a crotchety, old bastard.” You sighed, resting on the handle of your mop. You shook your head.

“I’m sure by the time you get to town the two of you can find somewhere to stay.”

A silence overtook the house again, full of raging, but unspoken thoughts. You squeezed out the yarns and tended to the floors. It, at the very least, gave you something to do. Hidan’s blood already dried part way and you scrubbed harder, but not before it was snatched out of your grip. Hidan shoved you over to take your place. The backs of your knees hit the armrest of the modest couch that you almost toppled down onto. He took to scrubbing.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“Sorry?” Hidan peered at you with his bright violet irises.

“I’m trying to be nice and ask you about your problems, so you better start chatting before I lose interest.” The mop splashed back into the bucket. “Who else do you get to talk to?” You pursed your lips. You knew that he was biding his time to wait out the rain, but his words weren’t wrong. The hurt still felt fresh and perhaps you were feeling a bit desperate to get it out of your system.

“I’m not sure what happened. I asked, but, well, you know how my… how Kakuzu is.” And you found yourself retelling the entirety of what happened: the argument, the ring, Kakuzu’s misplaced comments about children. You left out the part about the wrecked kitchen. “And then he said something about ‘now letting this happen’ which had to be the last straw for me.”

“Did you want brats?” Hidan had since stopped his cleaning. Surprisingly, he listened intently to your rambling as he propped himself against the wall. You swung your feet back and forth over the side of the couch.

“I never really thought about it before and Kakuzu and I never talked about it, so I don’t know why he brought it up.”

“Because he’s a dumbass who thinks too much. I never know what’s going on in that fucked up head of his. If I had a home to come to like this with a cute little thing in an apron—” Hidan scoffed. —“Fuck the Akatsuki. I wouldn’t be hiding you out here because of some band of losers in capes.” That made you laugh.

“You’re in the Akatsuki,” you giggled and Hidan raised a slender eyebrow.

“So? I’m the best one out of all those guys.”

“The best out of some band of losers?” The corners of Hidan’s lips turned upwards into a brief smile as he rolled his pretty irises.

“Listen, I got my devilish charms going for me which is better than Ragdoll. He looks like a fucking pin cushion.” Your hand came over your mouth as you laughed. Hidan looked down at where you sat, pride swelling in his chest at the prospect of cheering you up. But your face quickly morphed into something sentimental.

“Aw, but he’s a cute pin cushion…” Your bottom lip curled into a pout, but at least you didn’t look quite as sad as before. Hidan leaned a bit forward.

“He’s a little over a hundred-eight centimeters tall and has a big-ass nose.” You let out an amused breath. “I’d hardly consider that ‘cute’.”

“But it’s a cute nose. It’s slender and has that cute little bump in the middle.” Your voice grew quieter. Another silence, the third of Hidan’s visit.

It all felt too confusing for you. Maybe Kakuzu was never that interested in you in the first place. You shook your head then and there, much to Hidan’s confusion. Despite Kakuzu’s attitude towards most everything, you knew that he cared deeply about you. Perhaps he had grown bored. Despite ninja work not being of interest to you, you knew that many found the profession very exciting. You ran many profitable operations in the surrounding area, but more money could be made elsewhere, you knew that much. Your lifespan was nothing compared to Kakuzu’s nearly a century of living. He had done everything in life that he had wanted to do and all you had little to show for your existence.

You kept replaying his words about the time that you had. That you had enough time to do more. But if you really thought about it, you were content living the way you had been. You were happy and for a split second you considered whether or not Kakuzu actually saw himself as worthy of you. You shook your head for the second time. No, if anything, you considered it the other way around. You’d imagine that you would come off as boring and childlike to an immortal.

“That’s a lot of thinking.” Hidan had taken to wandering around the room. You hadn’t noticed. “Fuck thinking. You deserve better than taking care of some place in the middle of nowhere and running numbers on boring-ass shit.” You smiled again to yourself, something else that you didn’t notice.

“I actually like it here,” you mumbled. Hidan yawned.

“Can I stay now?” You deliberated to yourself before grabbing the bucket and the mop away from him. He didn’t do a great job, but you found yourself relatively uncaring at the moment.

“Yes, you can stay,” you sighed. Hidan was already halfway down the hall by the time you finished your sentence.

“Good because I was going to crash here anyway.”

@brokennerdalert @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @krispypotato @meme-queen-1999​

Notes: Reader and Kakuzu had a Shinto wedding if anyone’s interested. 

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Twenty One

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous character's death, crying, grieving

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Stepping off the bus you give a huge yawn. It wasn’t a long bus ride from Osamu’s apartment to the shrine but it dragged on from the little sleep you got last night. Kita wasn’t keen on having you walk from the apartment in your current state, and Aran almost called a taxi for you. But you couldn’t let them pay for it when you could’ve walked. You all settled on you taking the bus, albeit Kita provided the fare.

You’re pretty sure he feels a bit bad that you weren’t going to be there when Osamu woke up, but he was still completely passed out when you left. You couldn’t wait any longer unless you wanted to be late, so you left the apartment that morning with a promise from Kita to call with any updates.

You’re extremely grateful that Kita is willing to be forthcoming, especially after you weren’t 100% helpful during Kita’s initial search for Osamu. But as you walk towards the shrine entrance, you power off your phone and slip it into your bag.

Today is about Hajime, he deserves all of your attention.

Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki wait for you at the entrance, all dressed in nice shirts and ties. You give them a small smile, working hard to bring it to your face. They give you smiles that are equally lackluster, but you don’t blame them at all.

“Y/N-chan~” Oikawa called in a high voice. HIs smile is the biggest, and the fakest. He pulls you into a hug as soon as you are in arms reach. “Did you sleep okay last night?”

You nod against his chest. “Yes, thank you. And thank you for bringing me clothes.”

“What’s this about last night?” Makki asks in a pale imitation of his usual teasing voice. He looks pale in the bright light of day and his hand is held tight in Mattsun’s.

You shake your head gently. “I’ll tell you later.”

“He’ll hold you to that.” Mattsun warns. HIs face is blank - at first glance his stoicism is taken for apathy, but you know the real truth.

It’s silent for a beat before Oikawa speaks up. “Well, shall we?”

You all nod and together walk into the park. It’s quiet and you don’t pass many others on your way. No words are exchanged on your walk but you all walk close together.

As you round the corner, you can see Hajime’s grave. Your breathing picks up and you reach for Oikawa’s hand. It’s always a surreal moment, seeing the exact location where Hajime is meant to be. His tombstone doesn’t stand out for the others, save for today - it shines in the sun a bit more and fresh flowers are in a vase by the base of the grave.

“The Iwaizumis’ were here earlier.” Oikawa mentions in a breathy whisper. “They didn’t want to impose on our visit.”

Mattsun clears his throat. “We should visit them soon.”

Makki makes a noise that sounds like an affirmative but it’s hard to tell from tears he’s audibly trying to hold back.

Soon, too soon, you’re standing in front of Hajime’s grave. You read the epitaph on the stone, as you’ve done every time.

Here lies Iwaizumi Hajime - a son, a friend, a brother. His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

This has been the sixth time you’ve read this inscription - the first, second and third time you were unable to get through the first few words without breaking down and crying. The fourth time you were able to read it all before you cried, and the last time you were able to be a pillar of support to Oikawa who broke down then.

And now, as you read through the words, you feel the familiar tears well in your eyes and a blanket of melancholy settle over your shoulders. But this time, you stop and take in the meaning of those words.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

You glance to the side at your friends, those who also loved Hajime. Makki is opening weeping, his face buried in his hands. Mattsun has his arms around his boyfriend, his face hard and eyes glossy. Oikawa has brought his hands together and bowed his head. His eyes are closed but the little crease in between his eyebrows give away his distress.

You look back to the grave, to this grand sculpted piece of stone, this final resting place for your best friend, and close your eyes.

I miss you Hajime. You’re not particularly religious, nor do you have much belief in deities or gods that watch over you. But since Hajime’s passing, you’ve been able to fully understand the appeal of an afterlife - if tHajime is out there, somewhere, you can still talk to him. You can tell him how much you miss him and know that he’s hearing you. There’s some comfort and peace that can be found with the ritual.

But there’s also danger. There’s the potential of developing disastrous habits, or forging an alternate reality where your loved one isn’t dead. And you can lose yourself in that reality.

That’s why you sent those messages to Hajime’s old phone - you needed that last line of communication, albeit one-way communication. You needed to trick yourself into believing that he was really alive, to numb yourself from the harsh truth that he wasn’t.

His spirit lives on in the memories of those who loved him.

Is his spirit living on, truthfully? Were you really honoring Hajime’s life and legacy with those messages you sent? Or were you leading yourself down a path that you had no intention of straying from?

When Osamu texted you back from Hajime’s number, you were devastated. But in a way, Osamu had been your saving grace - you had no choice but to break your habit once he received the new phone number. There was no way you could continue to burden him with your messages and please and desperation. It was the clean break you needed, the hand to lead you out of the dark. And not only did he help break the habit, he became another person you could depend on.

You think back on the coffees and lunches you had shared and messages sent late in the night. You became close, unnaturally quick. Did you both just click with each other? Or did you rely on him more than you should? Was your dependence on him detrimental to your budding relationship? Did you rely on him to be a pillar of strength, because he, quite figuratively, took Hajime’s place in your life?

Your eyes open quickly. The fact that the answer is not crystal clear worries you. How long have you been using your friends, albeit subconsciously?

Suddenly Osamu’s anger towards you makes complete sense. And is justified. You need to apologize to him. To him and Hajime. You knew (or hoped at least) that you’d have the chance to apologize to Osamu. But now, this is your chance to apologize to Hajime.

You clasp your hands together and close your eyes. (And you work really hard to ignore how foolish you feel.)

Hajime, you think. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never told you how I felt about you and not being upfront about my feelings. You feel tears behind your closed eyes. I wanted to be able to love you like you deserved but I was scared. And I’m so sorry.

You can picture Hajime’s smile, the way his eyes would close when he would laugh, how he would curl into himself when he couldn’t stop laughing.

A few tears eek past your closed eyes.

You can also imagine Osamu, his eyes crinkling at the corners, in time with the upturn of his lips. You can feel the gentle, soothing patterns he traced on your back while you cried.

You weren’t able to love Hajime the way you wish you could have. Maybe you can give it your all with Osamu.

But why does that idea make your stomach twist and fill you with shame? Why does the idea make you feel like a villain?

You open your eyes again and look at Hajime’s grave.

Is it because to give it your all with Osamu would mean letting go of Hajime?

“Are you ready to leave?”

Mattsun’s voice brings you out of your heavy thoughts. You look at him, seeing an openly weeping Makki held tightly in his arms. You nod and turn to your other side.

Oikawa is crouched down, with his head bowed forward and one hand resting over Hajime’s name.

You rest a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon Oikawa.” He doesn’t give any indication that he heard you, but after a few seconds he rises. He wipes his face and turns to leave.

“Let’s go.”

Mattsun guides Makki out, letting him continue to cry as they walk. You bring an arm around Oikawa’s waist and pull him in tight. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and squeezes back.

Hearts heavy, you all exit the shrine and make your way to the park. It’s not far from the shrine but no words are exchanged throughout your walk. It remains silent as you enter the park, find a good spot in the shade and set up the picnic.

It’s a glorious day - blue skies without a cloud in sight. A gentle breeze blows through every now and then, and the temperature is perfect.

As everyone settles onto the blanket Oikawa opens his bag and pulls out the food. You take yours from him and open the container. A sad smile crosses your lips. “Agedashi tofu?”

Oikawa nods. “Seemed fitting.”

“Is it really picnic food?” Mattsun asks. Makki is quiet, his eyes and nose red.

“Anything is picnic food at a picnic!” Oikawa retorts.

Mattsun raises his eyebrows and puts a piece in his mouth. His face quickly morphs to surprise as he chews. “I take back what I said.”

Oikawa harrumphs and turns to his meal. You share a small smile with Makki before tucking in.

The food really is quite good. The tofu is crispy on the outside but flavorful on the inside. The four of you sit in silence as you eat. You don’t feel the need to make conversation, but the silence you bask in is melancholic.

Suddenly Oikawa slams down his container. His utensils rattle against the lid and he harrumphs again. The noise brings you out of your stupor, and you glance at Mattsun (sharing a curious look) before speaking up. “Are you okay Tooru?”

“No!” Oikawa cries. He sniffs and turns his head away, glaring at the blanket. You sigh inwardly, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Oikawa would crack. He’s been surprisingly strong today but you know he harbors a lot of hurt and you were waiting for the moment you could come in and support him.

“I’m annoyed!” His brief explanation makes you furrow your eyebrows and you wait for him to continue. “I knew today would be awful and I thought that putting together this picnic would help us cope, but all I can think about is how much Iwa-chan would laugh at me right now!

“And I miss him so much and I want to embrace that feeling but all I hear is ‘Shittykawa, stop being a diva’ and ‘You idiot, this is too much.” Oikawa sniffles back the snot in his nose and shakes his head. “Iwa-chan was such a brute.”

You, Mattsun and Makki share surprised looks at Oikawa’s rant. But they soon give way to loud laughter that bubbles from your chests.

Because Oikawa is totally right. Anytime you all (mainly Oikawa) tried to plan a party for Hajime - whether it be a birthday party or celebrating some achievement, Hajime would hate it. You weren’t sure if he hated having the spotlight on him or his instinct to hate whatever Oikawa would put together.

“Do you remember when we tried to throw a surprise birthday party for him?” You ask through your laughter.

Makki giggles. “Yeah, and he punched Oikawa in the face!”

“Or,” Mattsun pauses to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “Or when the security guard chased Y/N and Iwa off the school grounds for some game?”

You nod, feeling another fit of giggles take over. “Yeah! Oikawa tried to organize a scavenger hunt!”

Makki snorts loudly, which pushes you and Mattsun over the edge again. You look at Oikawa, who is looking put-out but is clearly trying to hold back his laughter. Makki snorts again, making Mattsun wheeze, and Oikawa breaks.

The four of you are completely losing it in the park, laughing loud and uninhibited. Between breaths you all share more stories - most of Hajime trying his best to reign in you and Oikawa while Makki and Mattsun didn’t do anything to help him.

You’re not sure if it’s you or someone else, but soon tears mix in with your laughter. You look around to see your friends laughing and crying as well.

Watching Maki & Mattsun tease Oikawa for his ugly crying face, you can just picture Hajime sitting with you all. And instead of the thought making you shrivel up inside, warmth blossoms in your chest. You can see Hajime beating Maki in another arm wrestling match, or laughing at something sarcastic Mattsun said. If you really thought about it you can see Hajime yelling at something that Oikawa did (whether he deserved to be yelled at or not.)

You can imagine Hajime sitting next to you now in the sun. If you were to meet his gaze you know that he’d give you a fond look. You can picture it perfectly. It’s one that he’d wear when his friends would achieve the impossible, or break through a challenge that had been keeping them down.

It was a look of pride.

He always wanted what was best for you, and for his friends - his selfless actions could fill books that could fill libraries. His praise for you all made you keep pushing forward. It’s one of his most admirable traits, and one reason why you fell in love with him.

You know, deep down, that he would be okay with you moving on. This whole time it was you that was scared of letting go.

But here in this park, on the anniversary of Hajime’s passing, you finally feel okay with moving on. And if you could tell him that, he’d wipe the tears from your eyes and give you a soft smile. A smile that says how proud he is of you, one that says much he loves you, and one that you know means that he’ll always be with you.

In a way, Oikawa’s specially-planned lunch worked exactly how it was meant to. Because even though exactly six months ago your world completely fell apart, you can sit here now and feel some peace. You know that you have to pick up the pieces and put yourself back together. You know that some days the pain will be unbearable. But with your friends here, you have the strength to put yourself together again. With that thought, you look up at the sky and smile.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: This entire scene was maybe the second or third scene I drafted out when I wrote this story (mainly because I had been writing so much angst and I needed some relief for these guys.) Like honestly, I don't think they have all sat together and talked about Iwaizumi in this story at all like this - laughing and reminiscing together. It makes my heart soar - of course they're not magically fixed or things are going to be getting better in the end but there's a clear difference between their dynamic from the start of the story to now. And that makes me very happy. 💖💖💖 I hope you are all enjoying the story, thank you so much for reading!

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　　I didn’t expect the second part to become more popular! It honestly shocked me! I kinda have an idea of where I’ll be going with the ending—kinda don’t. Idk. We’ll just wait and see how this progresses! Also just go with the flow on this please 😵‍💫

　　✧༺🔥༻∞　🌸　∞༺❄️༻✧

Kyojuro had never wished for nothing more than to live a peaceful life with Y/n after retiring from the demon slayer corps. She was a wonderful person, ever since he had met her, he had known that she would be the girl he would one day call his wife, and she would call him her husband. He and his fellow hashira, named Uzui, would talk about marriage and occasionally talk about children and retiring. Though Uzui would get carried away when it came to the children part, adding more to the conversation about making the children and not imagining how the children would be like. When Uzui talked about that topic, Kyojuro would get startled and start sweating, before he would change the topic as fast as he could. But heaven knows that Uzui would pick up the idea that Kyojuro was still, pure, as Uzui would put it. So what if he was? He and his fiancée agreed that they would consummate their marriage duties once they got married. But then again, Uzui would tell him about how wonderful it felt to, be intimate with a partner.

“Y/n, may I ask you something?” Kyojuro asked, his eyebrows furrowing a bit, to show off that he was going to be serious in the conversation. “Of course Kyo, what is it that you wish to know?” Y/n replied gently, her eyes now fixated on his own. “Have you ever thought of, being intimate…on another level?” Kyojuro felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the question he had just asked his fiancée. Y/n abruptly stopped sewing, she didn’t move for a good minute, before she put the needle and kimono down on her lap. “Well, if I am completely honest. I don’t really know what you mean by that dear. What do you mean, ‘on another level’? Are you trying to say…” she paused, her cheeks turning bright red as she realized what he meant. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable by asking you that. But I just, wanted to know. You know? I mean, the farthest we’ve gone to is kissing and occasionally leaving small marks on one another.” Kyojuro said, he really hoped he hadn’t made y/n’s opinion change on him. What if she thought he was a pervert now. How embarrassing. As he was lost in thought, y/n burst into laughter, starling Kyojuro in the process. “You could have just asked me if you wanted to make love Kyo. No need to be shy with me! We’ve known each other since we were children darling!” She let another fit of giggles escape her mouth as she desperately tried to cover it with a hand over her mouth. How cute. “Guess you’re right! I’ll try to be more straightforward next time!” He shot her a bright smile, causing y/n to stop giggling and stare at him in awe. Kyojuro made his way over to y/n, kneeling down in front of her and taking out a small picture of her and him together in kimonos she had made for them. “Always and forever, my beautiful wife.” He felt y/n gently put the picture back into his pocket, her fingers entangling with his own. “Always and forever, my handsome husband.” Kyojuro looked into his future wife’s eyes, those beautiful shining orbs of life and color. She leaned in closer to his face, her lips touching his. “Let’s get married here now then. And we can consummate the marriage before you depart tomorrow for that mission of yours.” Kyojuro closed his eyes, placing his forehead onto her own, smiling gently at her, “Very well. I will marry you here. And you will marry me here. Together, we will bring our two families and more importantly our souls together.” She nodded, smiling back at him with a warm smile like the sun. They both leaned in, closing the gap between them. Just how lucky was he to have such an amazing woman in his life? He would never know.

Now looking at the situation he was in, with upper rank 3’s arm piercing through his stomach, he wished he had married y/n sooner. They had only spent two months secretly married together, he was hoping to be spending his entire lifetime with her. He couldn’t give up now, not without a fight, not until he cut this demon’s head off. Kyojuro knew y/n would want him to fulfill his mission, just as his mother would too. He had to do it now. “I WON’T LET YOU ESCAPE! NOT UNTIL I CUT THAT HEAD OF YOURS!” He yelled at the demon, who had began to panic due to the sun rising. “LET GO! I SAID LET GO!” Akaza screamed, but to no avail. Kyojuro could feel his body start to succumb to his wound, no, he had to continue fighting. His mind started to get a bit fuzzy his vision on his right eye following right behind. Kyojuro felt Akaza rip himself away from his grasp, so this was it. The fight was over. He could finally rest. He had also lost the picture he always kept near his heart of him and y/n, how much he wanted to cry from not being able to see her face one more time.

“You will, live on without me. I will see you again.”

The day after Kyojuro’s funeral, she locked herself up in her room, ignoring her aunt and uncle’s plea for her to come out and eat or be in the garden. How could she eat or do anything when the man she loved had just died? Y/n undid her hair, throwing the pin away in a corner of her room. The sound of it hitting the wall harshly, she didn’t pay no attention to it, nothing mattered anymore. Nor she, or anyone. Her eyes started to tear up again, she looked up and saw one of the unfinished kimono’s in her room. Y/n grit her teeth in anger, yanking the kimono from the rack, grabbing a pair of scissors and tearing it apart. The one beautiful piece of fabric was now a torn up piece of cloth. She fell to her knees, her head starting to hurt from the anger and grief.

“Kyojuro! Why did you leave me all alone? Now who will be my other half if not you? Gods, what have I done to anger you enough to take away my husband from me? Please, take care of him for me until I go with him and my parents. Who am I to judge you for your decisions? Even then, I can not live without Kyojuro!” She proclaimed to no one, her hands gripping tightly on the kimono she had just shred into pieces. Why was this world so cruel to her? To everybody? She knew others had gone through much worse, and only now did she understand those who have lost their entire families, friends, and even themselves. How tragic. Her uncle and aunt were shocked when she had come down later in the night to the garden. Y/n looked up at them, her hair a mess, eyes red and a shredded kimono in hand.

“I renounce my title as a seamstress.”

A whole month has passed since Akaza had met Y/n. The two have gotten closer to one another, almost as if they were best friends. He had just arrived for the night at her home, the scent of her perfume in the room.

“Oh, Akaza. You’re here. Please. Take a seat.” Y/n said, gesturing for him to sit down in his designated spot. As he walked over to the small tea table, his eyes caught a certain picture frame that was placed in between a small shrine. Akaza picked up the frame, glancing behind his back to make sure y/n was not there, he studied the picture, it was Y/n and Kyojuro. Both of them smiling softly with their hands intertwined. It made him a bit jealous seeing kyojuro there with her, he didn’t deserve a woman like y/n. “So, are you going to teach me how to sew details into a kimono today or are you just—.” He stopped mid sentence, his mouth covered by y/n’s hands. She leaned into his ear and said, “I know you were the one that murdered Kyojuro.” He felt his eyes widen. “But don’t worry, I do not hate you. Humans and demons are sworn enemies. One may say that you are evil, doing unspeakable things to mankind, but even so, you are still a living creature, as I know you do not age, and you can be killed. Any living thing can be killed, though your morals are different than ours, I understand. What you think you do is righteous , and what the demon slayers think they do is righteous, it will in the end be the same. Killing one another because of different perspectives.” Y/n pulled her hands off his mouth, and backing away slowly. Akaza turned to face her, his face written with confusion and thoughtfulness. “You truly are an odd woman.” Was all he said in response. “They say the best people are a bit odd.” She giggled, taking his hand into her own. “Come now, let me show you how I do these details.”

The wind had began to pick up more now. With the petals of fallen wisteria flowers being taken away by the air and into the unknown. Akaza had just had a hard night, first he was summoned to an upper moon meeting, it seemed that an upper moon had died and their master was not happy at all, then that idiot with the blood stained hair had to go and bother him. How irritating, if only he could beat that parasite. But at least he would be going to go visit y/n today, since he didn’t have much do to. Akaza arrived in a matter of time, he poked his head into her room, his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed y/n’s scent was different today, sickly almost. He began to panic.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He took another look around the room and ran towards the end of the hall. “I’m downstairs, in the study room.” Akaza heard her say, he quickly made his way down to the room she said she was in. He slid open the door and saw y/n sitting down with her hand over her stomach. “Akaza, I found out, today, that I am pregnant.” His jaw dropped at the news, what the actual fuck? “How are you pregnant? I mean, is that even possible? Who’s baby is it? Have you been seeing men behind my back?” He started asking her, though he knew that couldn’t be the answer, as he would have smelt the scent of another man sooner. “I’ve only ever slept with you and kyojuro. This is very hard for me to even understand.” Akaza frowned when he realized that the baby growing inside had to be Kyojuro’s, it irritated him, now this day has truly become the worst one. As he was lost in thought, he snapped back to reality when he felt y/n’s soft hand tightly grip his. “I do not know why, but I have a feeling that there are two babies in me. And you are the father of one of them. You don’t need to stay by my side anymore. I understand. I wouldn’t stay either.” She happily said. Akaza’s eyes widened at her words, could that be a possibility, and would he actually want to keep staying here with her? Perhaps it was, or not. Only time will tell. As for staying with her, he didn’t know how to feel anymore. Y/n looked at him, her gaze slowly breaking away from his own, as if she was getting the aura that he wasn’t so sure anymore about anything. Y/n felt a smile creep up on her face, she pulled her hand away from his and slowly got up. But Akaza quickly yanked her back and embraced her, not too tightly, as he was worried he would hurt her and the babies. Akaza closed his eyes as he felt her arms wrap around him. This was a familiar feeling. He opened his mouth to finally give a response,

“I will stay with you no matter what.”

[aerialflight]

Fic Rec (it's been too long and I read a whole lot of fics)

I've read so many fics these past couple of months and my need to share them to the world has seized me by the throat. Please enjoy and support these fanfic writers! They are the best. XD

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[Naruto]

Nine-Tailed Foxes are Dead by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Shikamaru/Naruto

For Konoha, it's been one month since the preliminary Chunin exams. For Naruto, it's been six. And he wasn't in Konoha.

At the end of his ordeal, Naruto walks into the Chunin Exam finals without his left arm.

Shikamaru is very concerned. And, eventually, very precious to Naruto as they work together to solve the mysteries of Konoha and bring kindness to the Shinobi world, one adventure at a time.

(I would die for this fic. I know the summary sounds doom and gloom but IT'S NOT. This fic made me fucking cry, I don't think I've ever read a fic that characterized Naruto so right. He's so full of hope and love and develops into the best version of himself and I'm so HERE FOR IT. And it's not just Naruto, Shikamaru is absolutely amazing here along with Kakashi and surprise surprise Ino, I can't BELIEVE it took me this long to stumble across this fic. Also THE WORLDBUILDING IS TO DIE FOR!!! And the plot! Is! So! Interesting! Just, everything about this fic is just amazing so please PLEASE read this!!!)

The End of the Uchiha by RowlettLesbian

Ship: Naruto/Sasuke

“I promise, little electric spirit of this shrine,” he whispered into the soft dirt and fallen leaves, “I will never gain the eyes. I will never pass them on. And I will make sure the eyes end in my brother, so that they can’t hurt anybody anymore. I will be the last Uchiha, and see to the end of the Copy-Wheel Clan. Then all of the hatred here can stop, and my family can rest peacefully. I promise, little shrine.”

Sasuke is more than his brother thinks he is. He's more than any Uchiha has ever been. He will kill his brother, but it will not be vengeance.

It will be mercy.

(Same author as the one above, they are the gift that keeps on giving. Seriously, HOW did I NEVER FIND THESE FICS before now??? One of life's greatest mysteries. The author's sense of humor is so on point here along with the atmospheric writing that's so vivid in the mind. Their writing style is so recognizable to me now and makes me fall into the world they're creating, it's stunning. Sasuke here makes me want to hug him and the idea of him living like a feral ghibli character has me LIVING. Check the tags of the fic, all of it is true, hand to god. Please give all of the author's fics a shot, it's a rabbit hole I'm thankful I fell into!)

mil fantasmas (gritan en calma) by LegaciesandMemories

Post-Tsukuyomi, something in Uchiha Sasuke's mind shatters. The same night, Yamanaka Ino falls asleep and doesn't wake up for 15 days.

---

In which Ino and Sasuke both wake from the aftermath of the Uchiha Massacre with the ability to see ghosts, and no one is prepared for the fallout.

(This fic has arrested my curiosity and eagerness to know what will happen next. These poor kids need so many hugs and Ino is getting the spotlight she deserves. I am so excited for this fic and what it has in store! Please read! XD)

Lichtenberg Figures by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Name: Kakashi Hatake Rank: Jounin Status: Missing Nin Missing Since: June 15th, 271 AD Note: Flee on Sight . . . Haburashi looked his team in the eyes— three, fresh out of the Academy genin— and resolved to teach them as best as he could. And right now, his lesson was simple: “Stay. Away. From. Kakashi. Hatake.”

(Dimension travel fic with a slice of Kakashi being an absolute troll and dealing with the shitty hand he's been dealt with. Seriously, the man has the worst luck in all of Konoha. Also, the mystery of the other Kakashi's history has me leaning by the edge of my seat, I need to know.)

The Governess by Ysmirel

Ship: Kakashi/OFC

"“What,” he finally asked, “is so funny?”

Ibara bit her lower lip to keep the chuckles in, still smiling and making absolutely no effort to get more space between them, seemingly perfectly at ease within reach of a trained shinobi. Her self-control wasn't all that good, as she ended up snorting and was overcame once again by another fit of laughter. “I just- It's just-” She struggled to speak, trying to catch her breath and wiping away tears of mirth with the hand that wasn't still holding onto his vest. Finally, she looked him in the eye and said, with a smile that was all teeth and without a hint of her previous drunken stupor, “and who's going to believe you?”

As he stood there, stunned by her words and change in demeanor, he realized with dawning horror that she was right."

In which Kakashi finds himself at the other end of the troll shtick, and he doesn't appreciate it all that much.

(It's so hard to find self-insert fics with a fresh concept these days, especially in the naruto fandom. Not that I don't enjoy and devour a lot of self insert fics like it's going out of style, but it's just so nice to find something new and shiny and really damn good. I'm so pumped for this fic and how it's going to develop so please join me in rooting for this fic!)

half a league (until the valley of death) by SpectersShadow117

Kakashi can think of no reason for Sasuke's inexplicable and drastic change in behavior. He doesn't like the desperate, haunted gleam in his student's eyes, and he also doesn't like the nagging feeling that he's missing something very important. Aka: Future Sasuke goes to Past Sasuke and gives him a reality check with Specific Intentions, but as with most Uchiha, his methods leave much to be desired. (Featuring: Childhood trauma FTW, Konoha's shitty care of orphans, and absolutely no one having a fun time.)

(Sasuke wanting to change the future out of complete and utter spite has me LIVING. Sasuke is such a Mess here and the twist on the time travel premise is so good and the kid is so Traumatized and Desperate and Not Having A Good Time. Naruto and Sakura developing as better ninjas and Kakashi trying his best makes me want to scream. Also, how Sasuke thinks about Itachi makes me want to cackle. I am 100% down for this. I am rooting for this kid, go get them! XD)

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[Harry Potter]

fruit loops in time (circle around me) by justprompts

Ships: Harry/Draco, Remus/Sirius

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle," the blonde boy says, pointing at the two boys next to him. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Ma - "

Ron laughs, and Malfoy immediately bristles.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" Malfoy says, angrily. "No need to ask yours - "

"You're honestly so cute," Ron interrupts, yet again, shaking his head. "So tiny. And so angry, all the time. It's adorable."

Alternatively Ron Weasley, Time Traveller Extraordinaire, is stuck in the same seven year Hogwarts Loop, repeating the same thing over and over again. Naturally, he's so done with everything.

(This is the greatest hp fic I've ever read. I LOVE RON WEASLEY and by the time you read this fic SO WILL YOU!! This is the fic I WISH I have the ability to write. I read this entire fic aloud to my brother and we spent literal hours howling and talking about how utterly insane and incredible this fic is, it's amazing. This is hands down my favorite Ron Weasley. You Can Pry This Fic From My Cold Dead Fingers.)

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[Boku no Hero Academia]

Kacchan's Cult by Ourliazo

Pro Hero Ground Zero is attacked, originally meant to be de-aged out of existence by a desperate villain but is instead launched into his 14-year-old self.

But Katsuki is a fucking pro so whatever, time to fuck up someone's day. And sure, maybe he's only one man, but that's why he conscripts the entirety of the UA student body into tearing down some criminal empires.

(It's time travel, crack, and Bakugou being his usual explody, competent self. What more in life do you want? Seriously though, please read. I'm obsessed with this fic and having a Good Time!)

Cleaning Crew; Teaching Kids to Value their Safety, for Fun and Profit by Reavv

Takenaka Hideo is a thirty-two year old, in mild desperation for money, who has just been hired as a new janitor for UA's support staff. He has a quirk that lets him find lost objects, a liaison with the police because of it, and desperate desire for competent co-workers.

Oh, and he's already lived a previous life, in a world where quirks and heroes didn't even exist.

Not a big deal, though. It's not like you ever see the janitor playing a big part in action movies. He's here to get paid, and that's it.

On the opposite side of the equation, class 1-A has to wonder at the new UA cryptid that always seems to show up when things are on fire, and who keeps trying to convince them to let the adults handle the fire extinguisher.

(A great deal of fun packed into one fic. That is how I title this fic and nothing will change my mind! Hideo just wants to quietly do his job and not get in the way. I Relate. Please read!)

Poltergeist by WriterGreenReads

Class 1-A is haunted.

Well, not really.

I AM dead, though.

World's friendliest poltergeist, at your service.

(I don't know how I got so sucked into OC fics, but I found some fantastic fics along the way so I have no regrets. The author really tries to push the premise and I just love all the interactions and dynamics that form as the fic gets further in. And the OC character and all the hijinks they get up to cracks me up! At the same time, it's pretty heartwarming and it's practically a friendships galore fic! Definitely recommend it!)

invincible by supercrunch for Engrin

Ship: Bakugou/Midoriya

This is the way the world works: the sun rises in the east. The strong come out on top. Bakugou Katsuki rockets through life like a comet and Midoriya Izuku stumbles after. If he believed in such things Katsuki would say it was written in the stars. That some god of war had looked at him and said this one. That he’d been passed along a line to get his blessings – genius, willpower, fearless ambition – and dropped off on earth.

Then, of course, there is the question of Deku. The spitfire runt. Deku, no matter what the world does to him, never stops hoping.

Until, of course, he eventually does.

(Katsuki broke him. Snapped him in half like a twig and now has to scramble to put Deku back together. “We can do this, Deku," he says slowly. "There are so many mysteries that never got put to bed. Criminals roaming around looking to hurt people and you and me, we can fix that.”

There’s a long pause. The comforter slips a little off Deku’s skinny shoulders and drowns him. “You mean like a team?”

In that split second, Katsuki makes a decision he’s never even considered. He swallows his pride. “Yeah, Deku. We’d be a team.”)

(If there was any other way canon could've gone, this is the story I would've wanted. It's perfect.)

Inadvertent Wilderness Therapy by Cacid

Following an unfortunate encounter with a teleporter on the last day of internships, Bakugou Katsuki and Hakamata Tsunagu spend some quality time in northern Canada.

In no particular order they will: build ugly survival shelters, stalk rabbits, run from polar bears, reflect on the chemical composition of trees, insult each other, and complain about krumholtz.

(THESE TWO. TOGETHER. IN THE WILDERNESS. IN FUCKING CANADA OF ALL PLACES. I still can't believe this fic actually exists and just how INVESTED I became in their relationship. Blue Jeanist instantly became my favorite ranked hero with this fic alone. HIS SENSE OF HUMOR IS TERRIBLE, I LOVE HIM SO MUCH FNIEWOPAF. BAKUGOU DOES TOO. IT'S FUCKING INCREDIBLE. *incoherent screeching into the wild*)

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[Stranger Things]

Baci D'aria by RabbitDarling

“Love is worth the sum of itself, and nothing more.” ― Alice Hoffman, Practical Magic

Steve learned a lot at his Aunt's side before she passed but his favourite thing she taught him was baci d'aria; special little spells that you created from the heart and put into the food you shared.

In opening his heart and gifts to those around him Steve slowly finds himself a family in a way he never thought he'd get to experience. One by One he collects pre-teens to trail in his wake like ducklings and Steve can't even refute it by the time he realizes what has happened.

(This fic is so soft and Steve is just collecting people and winning them over with his magical food (literally). I am always a sucker for heartwarming, good for the soul fics so if you want to make yourself hungry and feel all warm and gooey inside, read this!)

(Don't Fear) The Reaper by TeaFourTwo

Ship: Steve/Billy

He looks down at the blood on his hands and on the floor and wonders why the memory hasn’t broken yet, why he isn’t back in Starcourt mall with control of his body again, wonders if he's even still alive at all. Is this hell then? Or perhaps purgatory? It certainly isn’t heaven, that’s for sure. None of this makes any sense…but then what's new—nothing in Billy’s life makes sense anymore.

Billy laughs then, loud and long and unhinged. It's the only sound in the whole house, and it bounces off the walls like a fucked up echo, like the world is laughing with him.

“Jesus christ you’re insane…” It’s Max’s voice and it’s shaking. It only makes Billy laugh harder, because Max has it all wrong. Billy isn’t crazy, it’s the rest of the world that’s insane.

--

Billy dies a hero of sorts. He wakes up back in his bed on Saturday morning, the third of November, 1984...nearly nine months earlier.

(Billy is stuck in a time loop and it's slowly driving him crazy. And the fic shows just how much influence Billy did have in the plot and how doomed the world is without him in it. Great character exploration with Billy's character and all the ways he's so messy and human. Definitely recommend it!)

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[Knives Out]

The Road Less Traveled By by UisceOneLove

Ship: Marta/Ransom

If Harlan wants to leave Ransom to be on his own, fine. He'll show him just what Ransom Drysdale is capable of.

or, where Ransom chooses to prove his abilities through means of the non-homicidal variety and finds himself becoming exactly what Harlan was hoping he would.

(I found this fic out of sheer chance and god, Ransom is just, so fascinating to me as a character. Marta of course is the Best here and I will forever stan her. Seriously, this is such a good fic! Please read!)

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[Haikyuu!!]

Sky Full of Stars by grilledsquids

The Hinatas are twins. They're practically identical.

But while Shouyou seeks out Karasuno's volleyball team to become the next Little Giant, Natsu is scouted to to play soccer for Shiratorizawa. While Shouyou sets his eyes on playing volleyball at the highest level possible, his sister wonders how much longer she can play soccer... and if it's worth it to keep going.

A Natsu-centric story featuring: Shiratorizawa VBC shenanigans, too many soccer OCs, mild teenage drama, a little bit of plot, and Semi Eita not knowing what a period is.

(It's just!! So cute and wholesome!!! The Shiratorizawa volleyball team is so fleshed out along with the OC characters for the girl's soccer team and I swear, it's been a long while since I've laughed this much at the sheer shenanigans that happen in a fic. It's surprisingly hard to find good gen fics in this fandom so finding this gem made me so happy! If you want a fic that brings a smile to your face, read this!!)

like water by speakingincode

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, and when Tooru looks at him, he can read My best friend’s an idiot off the crease of his eyebrows. “Are you telling me you spent the last three years weirdly obsessed with Kageyama – I still remember the time you made us play him on a dumb whim, you know – and now you’re at his beck and call? Are you okay? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m— I’m not at his beck and call! I said no last week. It’s… It’s like you said. I get bored easily. I saw him at the park a couple weeks after they played Nationals and called him a perfect little tyrant, and he pestered me into spending time with him after,” Tooru says. “I’m not a monster, Iwa-chan. If he wants the company of his cool, handsome ex-upperclassman that badly, who am I to begrudge him?”

Or: Oikawa doesn't know why Kageyama keeps asking to meet him on Saturdays. He also doesn't know why he keeps saying yes.

(The fact this fic is canon-compliant and covers post-canon too makes me want to shout to the heavens. Fucking incredible! One of the best Oikakage fics ever and it's a crime how it's not at the top of the ship tag. Please please read!!)

twist into your shape by kakkoweeb

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

The only thing better than sweets were sweets containing paper that told you whether your future would be good or bad--or in Kageyama and Oikawa's case, paper that somehow caused you to live inside each other's bodies.

(Everyone probably already read this fic but it needs to be said, you need to read this fic. How these two try and manage each other's lives and slowly start to care about one another is so beautiful and sincere and I am ready to wrestle anyone to the floor and comply them into reading this fic. Doesn't matter if you like the ship, you will become a fan if you read it, I promise. Please please read!!)

Take the Long Road Home by pepperfield

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

When Azumane Asahi goes missing before his engagement meeting with Kozume Kenma, what other option is there but for Daichi to impersonate his brother and fake his way through a first date with Asahi's fiance?

Okay, let's be realistic - there were probably at least four other options.

Unfortunately, Tetsurou couldn't come up with any of them either, so now he's here flirting with Kenma's future husband while trying to keep his web of deceit from collapsing.

It's going to be an eventful day.

(I got obsessed with this ship alongside Oikakage and SO WILL YOU. THE POTENTIAL. THE BANTER. THE FACT THEY'RE BOTH DORKS AND THE FIC HAS IDENTITY SHENANIGANS DANCING ALL OVER IT!! I had so much fun reading this and these two are MEANT TO BE FENIWPAF. If you don't see the potential of this ship, you will now.)

a misunderstanding a day keeps the boyfriend away by bartallen for betuls

Ship: Kuroo/Sawamura

Kuroo doesn’t fall in love hard and fast like many others do – he falls slowly, and very very softly. Most of the times he doesn’t even realise he’s in love with someone until it’s too late.

(Kuroo is the dumbest man alive and I've never related to someone so hard in my life. God help me.)

You like me. by roseknight

Ship: Daishou/Kuroo

Kuroo nearly lived a Daishou-free life, and sometimes he looked back and wondered how much better and how much worse that would've been.

(I didn't even know who Daishou was until I read this fic and now I can't unsee the potential this ship has. I'm a ruined woman and I regret NOTHING.)

Kings of the Road, Kings of the Universe by EzzyDean

Eight magical captains, one bus, an entire summer (and country) waiting for them.

What could possibly go wrong?

(The magic of friendship meets the magic of a summer road trip meets pure magic.)

(CAPTAIN SQUAD IS THE BEST SQUAD SOMEBODY PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD SEND ME SOME CAPTAIN SQUAD FICS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS SQUAD IT'S A PROBLEM AAAAHHHHHH!)

宿縁 : See You Soon by MissKiraBlue

Ship: Oikawa/Kageyama

Upon arriving at the train station of death, an impure soul is granted a second chance at life against his will. Reincarnating into the body of Kageyama Tobio, a 15-year-old boy who recently committed suicide. Tobio's soul will depart at death and the soul needs to slip in to replace it. If the soul's reformation succeeds, he’ll reenter the cycle of rebirth and regain the right to be reborn. He will have three months to accomplish this task.

“Even though you had enough of life,” the soul whispered into the void of the room, “you were still afraid to hurt your hands, Tobio.”

Afraid of giving himself a scar, if he survived.

He touched his pulse and grasped life and couldn’t help but pity Kageyama Tobio.

"You wanted to die and now I’m here making you live again," he whispered into the night.

(I'm not even exaggerating when I say out of all the fics in this entire goddamn, too long list, this is the fic I'm anticipating and heart eyeing the most. It's only starting, but I already cried on chapter fucking 2, the power of this fic, holy shit. The author also wrote the hq time loop Every Tomorrows series, which I have an undying love for and am full on praying for the day it updates, so you KNOW this fic will be just as good. (Anybody who hasn't read this series, where the hell have you been?? Read it!!) Just, everything about this fic hurts me and something in my chest just aches when I read this fic. Go into it blind with an open heart and I swear to you, it's going to change your life. I'm already calling it. Seriously though, please please read!)

-

[Crossover]

Learning to Fly by Asteroid_Duck (JustThatOneGirl1815)

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, Naruto

The number three hero is a walking (well, flying) contradiction in every sense of the word. This includes his teaching skills. Why had Tokoyami agreed to this internship again? Oh right. He’d thought he was actually going to learn something. …….remind him to never be so optimistic again. . . . OR, Kakashi Hatake is reincarnated as the pro hero, Hawks. Tokoyami Fumikage suffers as a result.

(The reincarnation fic I never thought I needed and it's so good!! I've never really paid attention to Tokoyami and this fic sent me headfirst into loving him. Their dynamic is so interesting and I just love how their relationship develops. Also, Kakashi trolling the poor kid made me cackle, it's great! Definitely recommend it!)

Si Vis Pacem by athenoot

Fandoms: Boku no Hero Academia, John Wick

Everything has a price. That's what John has always known and will forever remember, even in death.

Which is pretty ironic considering his current circumstance.

Instead of a grown, scarred, weary body belonging to a man as cruel and broken as him, he's inhabiting a younger, smaller, unblemished one belonging to a child with strangely colored hair, and is living in what seems to be a superhuman society.

Well. May it never be said that John isn't a strategist. He can live with this. Maybe.

(Somewhere out there in the universe, he's certain he could hear the laughter of his enemies from beyond the grave.)

-

Or: John Wick is reincarnated as Midoriya Izuku. The world should probably watch its back.

(This should be one of the crackiest fics I've read in a while, but it's taken so seriously and I'm so HERE FOR THIS. John Wick being John Wick in a world of quirks and heroes is the GREATEST, honestly, he's so badass. Bakugou, I feel for you, you must be so fucking confused lol. Bakugou trying his best to be a good friend is one of the best things about this fic. Trust me, this fic will make your day, promise!)

A Girl's Mind is a Dangerous Place by clenastia

Fandoms: Naruto, Fairy Tail

Natsu wakes up in Sakura's body. It only gets worse from there. Also known as: In Which Natsu has No Idea what to do with Boobs.

(I binged this in two fucking days, I couldn't put it down. This fic reminded me why I liked fairy tail when I was younger and why Natsu is honestly such a great protagonist, god. And the fic does that thing, you know, the Thing where when two worlds collide, the characters struggle to acclimate and adapt to a completely another world with different rules and mindsets against their own. This fic is seriously one of the best when it comes to that aspect, it's incredible. I am going absolutely feral over here for this fic to update, I'm waiting in the wings, ready to pounce like a tiger, all the metaphors man. For the love of god, read this fic.)

Give me a landscape made of obstacles by Melise

Fandoms: Naruto, Natsume's Book of Friends

Kakashi Hatake isn’t who he says he is.

Because the truth is that he’s actually a youkai in disguise, a wolf spirit named Madara who stumbled across the Hatake clan during the Warring States Period. Intrigued by the shinobi he saw, he’d proposed a temporary alliance in which he would offer the clan protection in exchange for their teachings.

Decades later, Madara is surprised to find himself inadvertently summoned to Konoha by the last living member of the Hatake clan. Sakumo Hatake, who is mourning the recent deaths of his wife and stillborn child, doesn’t want to be alone anymore. So with his permission, Madara takes the place of Sakumo’s deceased son in order to watch over the last Hatake.

(Fusion in which the youkai of Natsume’s Book of Friends all exist in the Naruto world. No knowledge of Natsume’s Book of Friends required).

(Before this fic, I only had a very vague idea of what Natsume's Book of Friends was, and honestly, I still don't know much about it. But I didn't really need to know to get into this fic. I love the worldbuilding and the relationships Kakashi forms, both supernatural and mortal. I love how Kakashi's inhumane ways affect others around him, whether to stress them out or become used to the strange. You can go straight into this fic without knowing anything and absolutely still have a fantastic time. I definitely recommend this so please read!)

[tetsuro-wulf]

The Wulf's Eye: RP Journal #78 | A Plump Moon

AH! It has been so damn long since I've written. Today I'm visiting the library of the Silver Trust, and I finally have a free afternoon to write! May as well.

House of Horrors Finally completed a mission asked by Hiroyuki which involved infiltrating an incredibly impure house with.. traps and enchantments. Kayah and I ended up battling an amalgamation of onna made into a cursed creature whilst the Vault was split up. It was a grim discovery, in the end, but one of the residents recently became my new hire, a merchant by the name of Yasutake. In the future he'll open our salvage during call hours if it garners interests.

Ascension Gathering Finally took the chance to have some drinks with my company and discuss things regarding my ascension. What I wasn't expecting was food, but I relished it it plenty of course. Satoru returned for the first time in a while!

Mogui Unfortunate grim happenings as the entity that infiltrated our patient captive Gotzo managed to escape at the cost of forcefully snapping the victim's neck, it released itself out of HQ with haste and little intent to infect the rest of us. Though.. the one Hikaru inhaled from our time in the Steppe proved to be a problem. Once we managed to get a sampling to Tenjin, he warned us about utilizing my ability to take others into the Mind's Eye, where we assumed that's where the Mogui truly prey outside of nightmare. NightRaid managed to do so, and Hikaru fought off the fears it preys on alongside us. The manifestation was Hiru.. which got me thinking sadly about what transpired in my absence, but it reminded me of Roku helping us save Hikaru that one time. Guardian.. Our next step will be the areas that we've spread out to scout across all of the map and strike there quickly whilst Tenjin creates a cure.

Blessings and Chakras The previous journal, I had mentioned Hide being interested in receiving my blessing as Kami. I invited him over to the shrine and performed an appropriate ritual for such, which involved resistance against fire as well as against impurity. Summoned a set of beads for him as well. It seemed to have meant a lot to him, which I was glad for. I pray he uses it well. The evening was fitting, as I hosted a session on the Seven Chakras again for those who hadn't attended before. It must be one of my favorites, to be honest. Strangely the following day, I overheard subconsciously one's voice who I believed to be Krysanthe. I recall being told, as a Kami, I would hear the wishes of those who approach the Okami statues throughout Othard.. which, it's true. Something I'm still not used to, but I thought to send her a care package given she seemed quite sick! I'll have to arrange for our private lesson soon.

Y☆KAI A group of fans booked the band for a private show in their little hingan restaurant. When we arrived.. honestly, it was so endearing given how intimate and cozy the place was. They even had a stage! We ended up having a lot of fun, performing for them. I enjoy all performances, but especially ones where we can connect with our fans, as people to people. One of the couple we performed for made us her special tea, and Eiri began speaking about the tale of Tanabata, which was coming upon us soon. We ended up performing at that festival as well! Our fans were chanting for us and it was great. Seeing their faces always boosts my excitement.

Sojutsu The tournament of the spear had come around. This was something I was looking forward to running for the first time, given I hardly ever see any spear tournaments outside of Ishgardian culture. I recall the group of Lupin arriving that I had met previously at a dinner with the Sasori Clan. I enjoyed talking about the sword with the father. Though, at the end of the eve's tournament, the irony is that a dragoon from Ishgard came out victorious. Next shall be a throwback to hand to hand in the dojo.

Kenjutsu & Hearts of the Sword A lot revolving around the sword transpired the past week as well. We held the kenjutsu class revolving around the understanding of Qi, breathing techniques, and applying one's aether through their soul and emotion to extend into the sword. I have such high hopes for such bright students! On top of that, Wisp and I got back into his sword training regiment. He's nearly finished learning all techniques, though I was humored to see him so surprised at the thought of coming up with five of his own once he mastered water. After that, I took a trip to Ranmaru's shop! I've been thinking long and hard, especially after mastering levin.. I wanted to show Li my gratitude. Then my heart started thinkin' with my brain. That's when the idea of 'promise swords' came to mind. Matching swords, imbued with holy material and my blessing. Ranmaru grumbled, called me gay, but delivered it the afternoon before Bounty Call. They turned out wonderful, and it was just as wonderful watching Li's reaction. I voiced how I ought to replace Kusanagi, as it was fetched to me by a Sea King and I hadn't named it myself. For this one.. I'll have to think of a name. I blessed Li and I's swords, and he added a special piece of him to mine. I look forward to properly wielding it on the field. I wonder which battle that will be?

Considering current operations and the like, I'm hoping things will calm a bit for me to write more frequently. But I suppose we shall see~?

07.09.2022 - 07.23.2022

[zeravmain]

2, 21, 35, and 36 for the video game meme!

2. First game you played?

The VERY first game I ever played I believe was Pokemon Emerald for the GBA. I had one of those old DS-GBA consoles where you could play both and I actually still do have both the original cartridge and the DS-GBA. The topscreen doesn't work anymore but the bottom one is fine, meaning I can still play GBA games on it hilariously enough. The pokemon emerald cartridge also works fine still, though the internal clock battery actually did run out recently.

21. If you had to play one game for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Hm. It would be easy to pick a perpetual online game like TF2 or Yugioh Master Duel for example so I'll limit myself to games that have a defined narrative and a proper start/finish. I think I would probably pick Pokemon Black/White 2 on the basis of being one of the most perfect sequels out there to any game, and by nature of being an RPG just lends itself to huge amounts of replayability.

I'll give an honorable mention here to Kirby: Planet Robobot here as well, along with Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones because they're both very fun and replayable games.

35. Best protagonist? 

This one is TOUGH I love me some video game protagonists. Ok so for more visual novel type games I'll have to give it to Makoto Naegi from Danganronpa. I just love him so fucking much he's an excellent character on so many fronts and despite the fact that he's meant to be a self-insert he's actually incredibly layered not only from a character standpoint but a wider metanarrative level within the Danganronpa franchise. The other protagonists get an honorable mention here but Makoto Naegi is just one of my absolute favorite all-time characters.

For a more action type game I would actually say I really love Bayonetta! I really do love PlatinumGames and their incredibly stupid difficult games, and Bayonetta just has so much style to it as a franchise that it's hard Not to love it. Bayonetta games really embrace that feeling of mid-late 2000s games just having incredibly nonsensical 3D animations happening and playing it off as the coolest thing ever, and more games NEED to have that charm of just completely embracing the ridiculouseness of their premise. Bayonetta herself too is a really charming character: It's easy to see her as just the haha bondage witch that people are horny about, but anyone whose actually played Bayonetta would tell you that she's actually a very complex character who struggles greatly with the circumstances she;s found herself in, and a lot of her nonchalance and witty banter hiding some genuine pain at the fact that she's more or less the last of her people.

I also do want to talk a bit about Soma Cruz from Castlevania: Aria of Sorrow just because he's simultaneously so hilarious and also a incredibly thematic fit for the wider narrative of Castlevania. In a series all about it's vampires and holy defenders, to give that role of protagonist to a bell-bottoms jeans e-boy from the distant future of 2035 who took a knife with him to a holy shrine for no reason is just -chefs kiss-. Castlevania isn't particularly known for it's characterization but Soma actually does have a fair bit of solid character to him, from his desperation to save Mina despite his fear, to his frustration at Arikado for hiding the truth from him, to the genuine fear and loneliness he feels when he's about to face Chaos and admits to being scared, having to plan for his own death at the hands of one of his friends, he's a really good character to me!

36. Best antagonist? Best antagonist is a biglarge important franchise defining spoiler for Danganronpa so kept under readmore!

Who the hell else could I put here but Junko Enoshima?

What CAN'T I say about her? The plot twist that defined Danganronpa for years (even now!), the single most important character of the danganronpa franchise, Junko is not only my top video game antagonist but one of my all time favorite antagonists from all media ever. Just the sheer chaos that she inspires, the fact that her machinations and many of the horrible things that happen within Danganronpa resulting just from her BOREDOM, the fact that she's an incredible supergenius who could talk the world into destroying itself and still declare herself bored, it's incredible. The novel Danganronpa Zero actually does give us some major developments on her character as well, both as a character and within the wider narrative, the fact that Junko was able to destroy the world just by taking advantage of an already corrupt system, her love for others being in her despair at their deaths, the obsession with despair just from being something unpredictable and her wish to stop being bored because shes a supergenius god among the masses, and her aversion to hope stemming from the fact that she isn't against hope itself but more that the hope of others is always boring to her since in her eyes they only want complacency. The fact that the second game even happened at all only because she even found herself getting bored with how The Tragedy was going, already being able to predict every single action and atrocity the world was commiting, and deciding to take the plunge and make a world where people can die and kill as they please only for the unpredictability of it all,

Junko is a character who oozes style, and everything she does is a defining core of Danganronpas themes. I absolutely love that crazy bitch.

[adeat]

16 - Crane

Word Count: 1,948

((I didn’t intend to do FFXIV Write this year. Then this prompt came along. Crane is the patron animal of one of my more recent characters, Kaito Yugureno, and I had to do something for him! I did this in a hurry, but it’s something.))

-

A long line-up and an equally large crowd gathered at the end of Pier #2 caught Kaito’s attention. Not every day people gathered there. A housing special perhaps? Or announcement by the hunting guild? The miqo’te hopped onto the roof of a worn, wooden building and peered down at the shoreline. At the front of the line stood a small, portable shrine - or at least Kaito gathered from the shape of the roof. The other hint came from the hyur dressed in long, ornate robes fitting of a shrine guardian. Kaito perked his ears down to hear the priest’s words.

“Welcome! Today is an auspicious day, for it is the anniversary of the kojin who once dwelt in this area,” said the shrine guardian. “He has done much to protect the shores here, and now it’s time for us to give back to him. It is said that he was once a dancer who sensed the patron animal spirit of one’s being. Would you like to see this for yourself? Pray to him and offer your tributes, then dance on the water’s surface. If you dance with conviction and purity, then perhaps your essence will be brought to light.”

After the shrine guardian’s speech, the crowd murmured to each other. Dance on water? As in walk on water? Was such a feat even possible? Kaito wondered the same thing.

“Only those with absolute conviction in themselves are able to do so. If you are willing to give this a try, you may walk over on the pier here. We have help on hand in case you fall in… and are unable to swim! Perhaps pray to the kojin for their blessings on this as well!” the shrine guardian laughed at his own joke.

Kaito’s tail twirled in interest, betraying his otherwise stoic expression. He glanced down at the shrine to see people praying indeed. How earnestly though? Even from his farther vantage point he saw raised eyebrows and a brief tenure that couldn’t have carried the thoughts of more than three words at most. The shrine guardian’s speech repeated itself to waves of people. Nothing more to see there. How about those continued splashes of water?

By the pier, people lined up individually - a line made short thanks to perhaps nervousness. Absolute conviction in oneself indeed. One by one, people stepped on the water, only to squeak or cry out as they fell down, accompanied by splashes of varying degrees and heights. Those who did succeed in walking on water, Kaito counted on one hand. And then took that golden opportunity to dance tried, tested and true staples such as the Manderville, its sibling the Manderville Mambo, and even the Yol Dance. Kaito squinted in hopes of seeing a guardian animal spirit or whatever show up - how did such a thing appear, anyway? But found nothing. Perhaps due to a lack of spiritual eyes. Or perhaps such conviction came from themselves that their sense of self was all that needed to be displayed. Their adoring fans certainly thought so, coming from the applause and loud cheers of their fans.

‘I admire their conviction,’ Kaito thought. ‘I certainly don’t have that kind of gall.’

Yet, despite everything Kaito witnessed, he felt an urge to pay tribute himself. He wasn’t sure why - perhaps his curiosity was once again getting the better of him. Most likely, if he tried, knowing him, he’d no sooner fall in the water the second his toe touched the sea’s surface.

Still, curiosity. He still wanted to give it a try. If nothing else, Kaito felt sorry for the kojin spirit. As dumb awestruck Kaito was at the worthy’s strong sense of self, he had to admit a point as well.

Were these people dancing for the kojin spirit, themselves, or their captive audience?

Still, pity.

‘At the very least, I could… try to do something for the kojin spirit. Anything is better than nothing.’

Kaito cut himself off in mid thought.

‘Wait—wait a minute! That’s like saying I can dance!’ Kaito’s eyes widened. ‘Kaiken’s the dancer, not me! Sure he dragged me off to practice all those years, and I keep up with it every day, but it’s for training benefits! I don’t really have that extra spark that he does. That’s fine by me though. Ballet is his thing.’ He sighed. ‘But still, doesn’t change the fact that I can dance… somewhat…’

Still, people.

People won out over his curiosity.

Kaito hopped off the roof to the back of the building. ‘Later! After everyone vacates. Hopefully the shrine will still be there.’

-

As a matter of fact, the shrine still perched on the pier by the time the moon rose into the sky. A large, full moon. An uncommon sight and perhaps coincidental. Or perhaps fate in celebration of the kojin’s big day. A beautiful gift that only nature could bring.

Now free to take his time without the added pressure of other people, Kaito stood in front of the shrine. The miqo’te sensed powerful, yet gentle waves of spiritual energy, and easily imagined the kojin spirit enjoying the view. Closing his eyes, Kaito clasped his hands in prayer.

“Kojin spirit, I’m certain you’ve had a long day today. I promise I won’t obstruct the view of the moon for too long,” Kaito said softly. “Although I’ve only heard of you today, as one guardian of Kugane to another, I wish to say thank you for all your hard work. You’ve dedicated your life to others, and now, I wish to give you a little tribute. This dance is one Kaiken—ah, sorry—my twin brother choreographed, and it’s intended to be a solo. Still, I hope you’ll dance with me in the moonlight. I hope to meet your expectations.”

After he opened his eyes, Kaito sighed. ‘As if my dancing is even worthy of a tribute.’ He sighed again. ‘What a speech. I ended up speaking more about myself than the guardian, didn’t I. I’m no better than all those other self-centered people. Well, if I fall in, at least the kojin spirit will have a good laugh.’

Kaito looked around. Once he felt secure that he was truly alone, he disrobed except for his undergarments - form-fitting, yet comfortable shorts he often wore during ballet practice. He quickly and neatly folded his clothes and placed them in a safe place. His calloused feet walked across the well-worn planks until he reached the edge of the pier. He heaved a deep breath and took the first step into the water.

And continued walking.

The water felt cold, like walking on a smooth surface, yet provided no slip. As he walked, he felt trails of energy brush against him and the presence of someone walking beside him, although he saw no one. Only the light of the moon and its reflection upon the sea’s still surface.

Once sufficiently far enough, Kaito turned around and faced the shrine—his sole captive audience. Imagining Kaiken walking through the stage curtains, arms spread to greet everyone, Kaito did the same, his hands slowly and gracefully moving in front of him to perform a bow.

He heaved one last breath. Even with an audience of one, Kaito still felt his heart race and waves of fear threatening to seize him. But he was here now and he felt absolute in exactly what he wanted to do. Instead, he smiled, imagining the kojin beside him and crouched down with his arms spread out and one leg crossed in front of the other—crouching stance as taught to him by his martial arts training. The starting point of the routine. Kaito imagined the music playing in his head as he leaned back, one arm raised, and tumbled out of position.

The dance had begun.

The solo choreography came from the ending of a larger performance as a whole. Various dancers of Kaiken’s troupe sorted into groups performed a recital meant to show the changing of the seasons, starting with spring. Summer. Fall. Winter. Then Kaiken’s solo last to show the coming of spring. The solo Kaiken choreographed on his own. The solo danced to much applause. And also the solo that Kaiken had taught Kaito for the sole purpose of practicing together.

To dance a solo was an honor and a privilege given to only the troupe’s best dancers. Although Kaito practiced this routine often, this was on his own. Not in front of an audience. Kaito just hoped he wouldn’t make a mockery of his brother or his routine. But this wasn’t about Kaito. This was about paying tribute to the Kojin spirit.

To represent flowers arising from winter’s end, Kaito remained on the ground, tumbling. Reaching. Like the stem growing from its roots. He felt the tips of his fingers cold as though someone held his hand.

To represent said flowers blossoming, Kaito gracefully rose to an upright position on one leg, his torso held sturdy to the side, one leg bent and his arms in fourth position.

Now standing upright, spring had begun. And so did the routine.

Effortless turns that seemingly never ended.

Leaps that defied gravity.

Flexibility that his muscular build didn’t look capable of performing.

All with controlled strength and grace, yet delicate sensibility of an old, gentle soul.

The more more he turned, the more he jumped, the more he moved, Kaito slowly allowed the rest of him to become taken away by the joy of dance alone. As he moved, he felt himself bathe in that same spiritual energy, now warm, as though someone danced beside him. Now completely in his own world, he danced, completely unaware of the wisps of spiritual energy trailing upwards from him.

Meanwhile, back on land, the shrine guardian yawned as he neared his charge. He intended to just take the portable shrine and go, another year wasted. When he saw shadows in the sea’s horizon, he looked up.

He froze.

His eyes locked onto Kaito in awe—half at the miqo’te’s beautiful, graceful movements.

The other half at the spirit that hovered over the miqo’te’s head.

A large, red-crowned crane.

The bird overhead emulated the miqo’te’s movements. Beside the fowl danced the spirit of the kojin, smiling.

“A crane spirit,” said the shrine guardian softly. “A sign of good fortune and long life. This is a truly auspicious year after all.”

Some night denizens or otherwise insomniacs came to the pier. Upon seeing the miqo’te dance, they stopped to watch. Gradually, more and more people came and soon, a large crown formed… both in awe of the dancing and the crane spirit that hovered overhead.

Finally, the solo routine came to a close, as Kaito came out of a spin and slowly crouched back down into sitting stance. Unlike his two arms spread out from before, he reached out with his left hand, as though reaching to someone. When he turned to the side, he saw the kojin spirit in a mirrored pose, smiling at him. The spirit’s cold hand clasped Kaito’s hand. Kaito couldn’t help but return the smile. His stamina fairly spent from the routine, Kaito breathed heavily as his heart slowly begin its descent into a more natural rhythm.

Loud applause and cheers filled the miqo’te’s ears.

Kaito’s eyes widened and his ears and tail shot straight up as his head darted to the pier. Not only did he see the kojin spirit float back to the shore, turn around and applaud, he saw a sizeable group of people cheering him on.

People. People watching him.

His concentration broke. Kaito dropped into the water.

[something-very-special]

Impressions

I know I’m way behind on progression through Replicant (insofar as anybody can be ‘way behind’ in the sense of playing a video game for personal entertainment), buuuut I figured I’d share a few thoughts.

Presently I’m doing sidequest mop-up post-Barren Temple, for reference:

So just to get this overall out of the way, I am legitimately fascinated by the differences between NIER and Replicant. This is something I picked up on when I played RepliCant to grab footage for my LP, but given my extremely limited understanding of Japanese all I could get was the tone between characters and to my unpracticed ear they sounded pretty different. I always assumed that Weiss was somehow even more condescending to Brother and hah hah, wow. Even kind of expecting the dialogue and delivery differences I was not prepared for some of the dialogue and delivery differences. Weiss just straight-up insulting BroNier on the regular, not even doing sarcastic eye-rolls like he does with Papa. I don’t remember the exact line that set me off but somewhere in the Barren Temple I was just laughing my ass off at how much of a dick Weiss is.

Thought the ‘miracles’ conversation in the Junk Heap was interesting, too. I remember Papa Nier telling Weiss to stuff it because ‘those kids need a miracle’ and Weiss kind of backs down-- obviously doesn’t believe it, but he knows better than to push. And Brother tries but Weiss is just not having this optimism bullshit. Little things, but the tenor of the relationship is definitely different.

One of the more interesting aspects early on is the way the Lunar Tear is treated. Obviously I don’t know if this was part of the original game or a script adjustment, but Brother talking about the Tear as a source of money as opposed to Father saying it can grant wishes was interesting. Maybe it was to justify that Kaine just has a whole necklace of the damn things and therefore it’s rare but not literally magic, but it always sounded like it was just meant to be taken as a myth to me anyway. Then again, it’s established in the Grimoire that Brother has a fixation specifically on making money so he can support himself and Yonah (versus Papa Nier, who has obviously already established himself as an adult rather than a kid still figuring things out and hoping that enough money will solve all their problems).

Where the dialogue doesn’t diverge is interesting, too. Mostly I’m talking about the scene after defeating Hook. I always found Papa Nier exclaiming “You’re going to live, Kaine!” and “Yes, we’re friends now!” to be obvious holdovers from a younger protagonist just goddamn hilarious when Papa Nier is saying them. They’re still really funny with Brother Nier but just remembering Papa Nier doing the exact same delivery in his deep, manly voice just re-elevated the whole scene into comedy gold.

All of that is really why I was interested in getting the game so already my money is well spent. But there’s some other stuff:

They butchered the OST! ...or so people keep telling me on Youtube. I admit I do think the re-orchestrations is largely inferior to the original (although there are some that are at least as good in a different way, and whatever they did to The Lost Forest -- which was one of my least favorite tracks in the original -- I really enjoy) but I wouldn’t call it a butchering and I highly suspect that if I didn’t have the eleven years of the original OST and its association within the game itself I wouldn’t bat an eye, it still all sounds great.

Also, a weird observation, but I found that the soundtrack sounds much better coming out of the TV speakers than through headphones. I’m not sure if somehow it was optimized for play through external speakers, or maybe just not hearing the added orchestration right up against my eardrums, but when I went to the Lost Shrine with headphones on I was admittedly disappointed, but going to it again and listening through the TV it worked significantly better.

(I’m not sure if this is necessarily a factor, but the booklet in the White Snow edition mentions that the new soundtrack was all studio mixed rather than having the individual tracks layered. While I don’t think that would have an impact on music quality it almost definitely makes a difference in the way it’s produced.)

I miss chest-thrusting to double jump Movement overall feels much more refined and polished. It’s not as slick as Automata, but it definitely feels like a natural evolution of the original game, and as an apologist for NIER’s combat I can appreciate that. A little more responsive, I appreciate being able to move while casting magic, and it still has a bit of a crunch behind weapon impact (although I wish it felt a bit heavier).

But goodness I miss the stupid animation for double-jumping. I mean sure, an aerial somersault is a classic indication of a double jump, but I just loved that Nier would chest-thrust so hard he would break the laws of physics and ascend higher.

It also feels a bit like the aerial dodge was nerfed for movement purposes? I really don’t feel as much horizontal thrust to get a running start after diving off the Library balcony.

Fully voiced? Fully voiced?! I knew this was happening but I totally forgot until the NPC villagers started talking to me! Some of the incidental deliveries are a bit awkward, but as somebody whose glasses prescription is a decade out of date I appreciate this immensely.

The item guy in Seafront just being from the goddamn Bronx is a thing of beauty.

BroNier does fit into the Village better. One of the little details I love in the game is that each bit of civilization has its own style. The maps aren’t large enough to really convey how long travel takes, but the different styles between the Village and Seafront just kind of helped to ‘place’ the characters in a really neat, subtle way (Emil’s sash identifies him as ‘belonging to’ Seafront, which is actually pertinent when you get that sidequest where you find the letter from his science-mom in town! I assume she always wore a kicky sash when she went to work in the underground child torture bunker.)

Facade obviously also has their own style, but it’s... hard not to appreciate.

Papa Nier’s dress doesn’t really ‘place’ him anywhere, which doesn’t feel weird for the main character, and I feel like it’s implied that he isn’t really from the Village in a meaningful way anyway and kind of drifted in at some point after Yonah had been born. But younger Brother Nier is actually wearing the local fashion and it’s a neat little detail that I didn’t appreciate back when I played PS3 RepliCant. (Probably because I didn’t bother talking to any NPCs what with not being able to read the dialogue, so I never really had him standing next to anybody for long enough to process.) Older Brother Nier takes on a very different outfit that winds up displacing him from the rest of the Village (and any other towns), which is a pretty nice visual metaphor, too.

I have a confession to make. I still enjoy fishing in this game.

Yeah I said it. I’ll say it again too-- I like the fishing minigame. I happily blitzed through the Fisherman’s available Gambits, and then just caught five sharks while I was hanging out, and then also caught the sandfish ahead of time, and also wound up with a half-ton giant catfish (??!?) trying to remember where the black bass are located.

Cart me away.

Related but I laughed far too hard when the fisherman says “the WESTERN beach”. I wonder why they changed that line. I just can’t imagine.

And those seals. Always a delight to go to early Seafront and just plant yourself between a couple of seals. Watch the ocean. Listen to the music and the waves. Watch the seals lazily roll around and make cute seal barks.

The most depressing thing about the timeskip is losing those seals.

My garden--! The gardening timeskip exploit was fixed due to a difference in PS4 architecture. :/ I know there’s still an exploit involving time zones but I didn’t go in knowing that and I was horrified when I adjusted the system clock only to find my crops weren’t growing. Is Legendary Gardener still a trophy? Fffffuuuuu

My BARREN TEMPLE. The Barren Temple is, to me, a legitimately funny dungeon, between Sechs getting himself abducted, Kaine getting herself abducted and Nier and Weiss just sighing in resignation, and the whole concept of the rules-based challenges. And the adjustment they made to the Prince’s dialogue before you meet him is so good-- the original felt a little disjointed and felt like it ended with the Prince being confused. It was still funny, but here Weiss just gives zero fucks about insulting the Prince (and presumably knows that’s exactly who he’s talking to) and it’s just great.

And I say all of that because I just died laughing when I got to the infamous Racing Wolf room and saw they outlawed evasion.

Evasion works differently in this game anyway so you wouldn’t have really been able to do the same trick before (dodge roll; in the original release you would dodge roll forward by tapping the button, but a default evasion has you backstep. Of course you could arrange BroNier to face away from the trap and then evade, but it would be significantly dicier, and I feel like the pattern on the shots was awkward enough that you wouldn’t have an opening in the second row (and probably would’ve have dodged your ass right into the bullets anyway). But just that they acknowledged the trick and then flipped you off with it was amazing. Aggravating? My amusement far outweighed my frustration since the Defend trick was still solid.

It also felt like more rooms outlawed jumping? That I can’t corroborate (I was really focusing on whether they did something to Racing Wolf, which is of course the most traumatic of the rooms) but I feel like it wasn’t as easy to cheese some of those rooms as it had been previously.

Dark Blast is amazing. Cheesed the shit out of the actual ‘Evasive Mouse’ room, though. I remember having some difficulties when the miniboss shows up since you can’t dodge out of the way of his lava pillar attack, but I just circle-strafed with Dark Blast and he died comically quickly.

This is actually more relevant to the magic as a whole, but in the time since I first played NIER (so... probably the time I fifth played NIER) I learned more about the little intracacies of the magic system. Like, really little intricacies, like how you can use magic with just a button tap and it actually has different effects... like Dark Blast dealing significantly more damage. It’s not as easy as just holding down the button and getting the multi-shot off the charge, but for a single enemy like that just rapid-fire tapping the button chews through the lifebar.

This tap strategy is really appreciated for Dark Hand (forward thrust punch) and Dark Lance (which is even better thanks to the game’s lock-assist-- a much appreciated quality-of-life adjustment), and I look forward to getting Dark Execution because of its fast activation feature (spreading the lances in a forward cone in front of you, extremely useful for crowd control when you can’t afford to wait for Execution to charge up).

Fragile Delivery still sucks. I don’t know why I had such a terrible time with the first Fragile Delivery but I broke that... Ming vase or whatever you’re delivering half a dozen times. Send that guy a steel rug instead, Guard #3, he is not worth whatever piece of art you had me destroy six times.

And the game still holds up. This is probably a ‘needless to say’ thing but yeah, this is still a great game. I always have a little bit of apprehension going back to something I loved just in case there’s a rose-colored effect going on. Not that I really expected that to happen with this game (I’ve played NIER recently enough that I didn’t think nostalgia would blind me) but, you know, always a possibility.

(That and that the remaster would be... perhaps of dubious quality. It happens.)

Nope! Still engaging. Still charming. I’m always impressed to go back to this game with all the knowledge of its inevitable misery and remember that it’s also just plain funny. NIER is one of those games that’s just like I remember it but better every time I go back to it.

I’m so glad that Automata did well enough to spur greater interest in this game. It really didn’t get the chance it deserved back in 2010 and now it’s topping some of the sales charts. That’s fantastic.

Just... fantastic.