#Time-Flight even has a scarf reference

[rassilon-imprimatur]

DOCTOR: “Fools who tried to turn themselves into Time Lords. It all went disastrously wrong.” MAWDRYN: “It is eternal agony. That is why we long for death.” TEGAN: “They're immortal?” DOCTOR: “For what it's worth.”

MAWDRYN: “It is finished, Doctor. CAN THIS BE DEATH?”

FIRST DOCTOR: “Hmm? Oh, I'm so sorry. I suddenly realised what the old proverb meant. To lose is to win and he who wins shall lose. It was all part of Rassilon's trap to find out who wanted immortality and put him out of the way. He knew very well that immortality was a curse, not a blessing.” 

FIFTH DOCTOR: “IS THIS DEATH?”

[epilepzia]

✨​CHECKPOINT!SANS MASTER POST

REFERENCE SHEET (click on it for better quality):

GENERAL INFO:

-His name originates from his ability to use checkpoints, exclusive to the determined in the past.

-He/him, around 4´5 (ft).

-He is not a monster nor a human, a weird hybrid of both.

-A child in the body of a man, quite literally.

-1-2 years old (age subject to change in the future)

-Member of the Picturesque Heroes in the CreationVerse project!

-Half his body lacks flesh while the other even has fully functional organs inside (VERY IMPORTANT DETAIL).

BACKSTORY:

Checkpoint!Sans was born in a blank void where his AU once was. He wandered aimlessly as he had forgotten his past life. By finding the last (or maybe first) checkpoint star, he was granted total use of them in any universe, and an infinite source of positivity and curiosity. He now wanders the multiverse with no particular goal, spreading kindness and silliness to whoever he meets.

IN BATTLE:

-Checkpoint is a pacifist and a true neutral, so he´s hardly seen fighting or even attacking.

-Checkpoint has begun to rely on Checkpoint!Gaster and Alphys to defend him instead of doing it himself (just like a little kid hides behind their parent´s legs).

-He CAN use magic, but by instinct most of the time and not willingly.

-He has to be induced in extreme fear or provoked hard for his powers to shine... And his instincts to take control.

-When on "attack mode", the essence of Sans´s and The Player´s soul (now merged into one and working as building blocks for checkpoint) act up by the fight or flight instinct of survival, and together they make Checkpoint a total machine worth fearing, combining sheer power and high battle IQ.

-Has the whole "sans attacks kit" and the fanon concept of humans been able to summon knives, the only true changes are his blasters, now working in a more industrial way, and how its hard to snap him out of this state.

EXTRA FACTS:

-Checkpoint´s origins come from a literal 20 yo jacket i own, which he uses. I just thought doing a sans with it would be silly. Look where are we now.

-His gloves were originally yellow, and his boots brown.

-Yes i know his jacket lacks a working zip.

-His turtle neck was ofc influenced by the fanon sans, but i like clothes that hide necks like scarfs and so on man.

-The checkpoint star in his chest works similar to Killer!Sans´s soul, but its separate from Checkpoint´s actual soul and works like any other checkpoint star.

COMICS:

UnderTale: True Reset prologue

ANIMATIONS:

Checkpoint!Sans average interaction

ASK CHECKPOINT!SANS MASTERLIST:

ASK#1 ASK#6

ASK#2 ASK#7

ASK#3 ASK#8

ASK#4 ASK#9

ASK#5 ASK#10

GALLERY:

(CHECK @foundfamilyeric FOR MORE INFO ABOUT CREATIONVERSE)

[mastermindmp3]

(Title is a reference to Dan Olson’s “Warcraft and what we leave behind”)

I feel like this has been said before, but the typewriter as a symbol is one almost in diametric opposite to the Red scarf. I almost don't want to make this point, out of worry it's been said before, but eh, screw it!

A scarf is an innocuous thing to leave behind; taken off at the front door, placed on a rack and lost in the texture of nylon rain jackets and woolly peacoats. The next time you think of it, it’s because of a heavy snow, and you reach for your own coat rack, hanging on the back of a door, where it should be, and it isn’t. As a symbol, it’s about the bits of ourselves that we rub off on the people we love and lose. You keep my old scarf, from that very first week.

The typewriter… is a funny thing. It immediately establishes the subject of the speaker’s desire as someone who: A) Owns a typewriter B) considers owning a typewriter something impressive enough to bring it to his lover’s apartment and C) left it there. Unlike the scarf, it is so obviously deliberate, to leave a lumbering typewriter at the speaker’s apartment.

To preface with my personal biases: I once dated a typewriter guy. He left it in my dorm. I had to take that damn thing down two flights of stairs. So like.... my reading is definitely tinged with the personal experience. But, to quote my lovely friend Jean, "of all the sins of men, being a pretentious hipster is low on the ranking...."

That said, “Who uses typewriters anyways?” Is a good question, and the rest of the song explores it. Who is the subject of the speaker's desire? A modern idiot, parroting (or maybe parodying?) a poet. The Speaker seems aware of this, and jokes about it with warmth, but we don’t know how her lover thinks about it. We know they’re in “self sabotage mode” and waking from night terrors. Neither the speaker nor the lover are well, but the lover seems to enable the speaker (see how she felt “seen,” and how the lover moved her ring to her betrothed finger, teasing her with finality.)

The speaker displays a very common in Swift's music anxiety about permanence, about whether the relationship will last. That she comforts herself with "but you told Lucy you'd kill yourself if I ever leave," is a peak behind the song's levity, I think. A reminder to the audience, that the speaker and her lover are not good for each other.

"... But it is a red flag for other flaws."

A lot of TTPD's songs are changed by their last lines, and I think the repeat of "who else decodes you?" without the answer of "me" is telling. An open ended question, with a plethora of possible answers.

Little Tortured Poets Department is a capsule of time, looked back on in hindsight. Perhaps even a fortnight of happiness, in a relationship with someone who thinks it’s a flex to leave a cumbersome burden in her apartment, and enables bad habits. But the singer delivers it with a knowing, tongue-in-cheek smile; having grown past, or perhaps around, it.

[writersmorgue]

Febuwhump Day 8 - "why won't it stop"

In an effort to not get this banned I didn't use great tags, but just so you know this fic does contain brief su1cidal ideation as well as a reference to a su1cide off screen!! Please be careful!

TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 1,220

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

Keigo sighs as he stares down at the alley below him. 

Tall enough to break his neck, short enough to avoid his instincts of saving himself. He’d been looking passively on his patrol route for weeks. 

His back aches from the discipline he received earlier that day. It had been nearly 48 hours without sleep and he’d begun to slip. Almost let a villain get away during a run with Tokoyami. 

They’d sent the kid home early and dragged him into the basement of Headquarters by his tail feathers. 

Four hours and an adrenaline shot later, he was back on patrol. 

The ledge looks… good. 

Standing so close doesn’t usually give him these butterflies. He can fly, the height wouldn’t matter. But something in his chest tells him that, if pushed now, he wouldn’t unleash them. 

There’s some broken glass strewn about; It shines in the moonlight, reminding him of the solo flights he’d take over the ocean in his earliest days of Heroics. Stopping on ship masts and buoys to rest. He’d been freer then, though not by much. 

The commission dug their talons into him once he’d been significantly broken. The urge to split off on his own thoroughly beat out of him by then. 

He’d been feeling some of that same freedom recently. The mission to infiltrate the League of Villians has been only successful. The villains had been kind to them, in their own way. Keigo thinks they see past his hero smile, maybe to the part of him that yearns to have their mobility. 

Dabi especially, much to Keigo’s surprise, has warmed up to him. The S-Rank villain had started opening up to the hero.

Some fuckin’ hero scum like you would only use us. Shigaraki trusting you at all is a mistake that will cost his life. 

After… a while. 

They’d grown a mutual understanding. The past was a prison they wished to move on from, and their home at the League’s base was an escape. Dabi himself didn’t seem fond of Shigaraki or AFO, but Toga seems to have carved her way into his heart. 

Keigo thinks that in another life he would’ve made a great big brother. Maybe he even was. 

The hero sighs, scuffing his boot on the dirty rooftop. 

The Commission was wearing him thin. His body and mind were feeling the weight of his sins. 

He knows this can’t continue for much longer. Either he abandons his position and is killed, or he does it himself. 

At least an obvious suicide would be harder for them to cover. The note he slipped in Rumi’s bag would likely not be found for another week, giving him time to finally decide. 

He thinks of his friends, the few that had stuck with him through his struggles. He’s sure they’ll miss him, but they’ll understand. The note- well, they’ll know why this had to be done. 

The air behind him shifts, and he barely registers the presence before a figure steps up on the ledge with him. 

“I’d warn you about the fall risk but… well.” The man grumbles, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

There’s a white scarf-looking thing wound around his neck, and his costume seems to consist of just a black jumpsuit. Long black hair is pulled half-up into a bun. 

“Eraserhead.” Keigo nods in acknowledgment, “Am I infringing on your route?”

Eraser huffs, looking out at the rooftops. Keigo wonders briefly how he’s not afraid of the fall. 

“You taking out a villain for me is the least of my worries,” he replies. 

Keigo nods, shifting his weight. Suddenly he feels vulnerable up here. 

“Any pressing reason why you’re brooding on this ledge? Usually more of my job.” Eraser jabs at him.

Keigo can’t find it in him to laugh in response, so he doesn’t. “Just thinking.”

The other hero nods, and they stand in silence for a moment. 

“You know,” Eraser starts, and Keigo could’ve sworn Rumi said this guy was quiet, “I saw a guy jump off this ledge a few months ago.”

Keigo stiffens, which probably gave him away if Eraser didn’t know already. 

“I was too late to save him,” the hero drones on, “it happens. But it was hard, watching his sister identify his body at the hospital.”

“Why are you telling me this,” Keigo grits, quickly losing patience. 

“I know you don’t have a sister, Hawks.” Eraser continues quickly, “No living family. I’ve read your file. The Commission owns you.”

“I’m… aware.”

Eraser turns to him, cocking his head, “So you’ve chosen this as an alternative?” 

Keigo officially loses his patience. 

“It’s not as though I have another option!” He throws his hands up, “they control everything I do. They make me do terrible, terrible things. Things I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. There is innocent blood on my hands, and I am done being their lackey. I would rather die than hurt one more person, I don’t care if they’re legally villains, it’s wrong.” 

Eraser assesses him, “That’s not all.”

Keigo rolls his eyes, “Of course that’s not fucking all. I could go on for hours about all the terrible shit they make me do, that they do to me. Half of my body has been fixed by them. I don’t even recognize myself anymore! They won’t stop until I’m some braindead lackey who will act on their word.” 

“It will never stop.” Keigo breathes shakily, looking down at the alley to hide his tears. The light reflecting off the glass begins to fuzz and he blinks hard, trying to calm himself down before this turns into a panic attack. 

“Why won’t it stop?” He whispers, reaching up and tugging at his hair, where soft downy feathers used to grow. 

Eraser sighs heavily, startling Keigo out of his daze. “I’m sorry that you’ve been put through this shit. The Commission has taken interest in a few of my students, and I’ve done my best to keep them out of this.” He turns and looks Keigo directly in his eyes, “I want to bring them down.”

“They’ll kill you!” Keigo shakes his head, looking around them in a panic, “You have no idea how bad that idea is-”

“I have some idea. Like I said, I’ve read your file.” Eraser places a heavy hand on Keigo’s shoulder, “They’ve put you through hell and it’s death in every direction. I want to get you out, and all the other kids they’ve got their teeth in.”

“But I-”

“That man,” He interrupts, “that I couldn’t save. That was one of Gang Orca’s former sidekicks. The fall was clean, broke his neck, and killed him quickly. Both of his arms had been recently broken and healed with a quirk, he had numerous lacerations and welts on his torso, and all the fingernails on his right hand were gone. The gills on his ribs came from his quirk had been medically sewn shut. Does that sound familiar?”

And shit… it does. Keigo inhales sharply, “Initiation.”

Eraser’s mouth presses into a thin line, as though Keigo confirmed everything with one word. 

“I want to save you, Hawks.” He says, “I have UA and All Might at my back, we are going to get you out.”

And for once, Keigo thinks there might be a third option. 

[dayseternal-blog]

In Memory, Katarinahime. Part 10.

"For Fanfic Writer Appreciation Week, I had started a post that I didn't finish. It was going to be an in-depth review of her 'Serenity Prayer.' I was going to dig into her story structuring, her characterizations, her language...like. It was going to be a long post. And it's sitting in my drafts. And I never finished it. And she'll never see it. [...] I wonder if it's okay for me to just post a bunch of short reflections instead now."

For nhmonth2022, Day 11, Prompt: Serenity Prayer

“Serenity Prayer” by katarinahime - Rated M for depictions of domestic violence, substance abuse, and smut, Modern AU, Multi-chapter, Ongoing. When their fairytale endings smash to ugly pieces, Hinata and Naruto help put each other back together.

Let’s start from the top with this work of art.

She dove on the ground for her phone, pushing it further under her seat so it would take longer to grab. It was a silly move. She couldn't stay down there forever. - Chapter 1, when Hinata sees Naruto walking toward her at the airport.

☝🏼 katarina has an amazing way with throwing in bits of self-deprecating humor into primarily ANGST stories that lightens the load just enough.

"I still have that scarf." He admits, smiling at her like he can't see her wanting to shrivel up and die.

I felt this.  The embarrassment, the simply relatable wording of wanting to shrivel up and die, like it came straight from any mortified consciousness.  And again, another sprinkle of humor here.  AND on top of that, the canon reference in a Modern aged-up AU!

A cracked iPhone 5c that her little sister let her use, matching the outdated MacBook that was thicker than a college text book. At the moment, they are her most prized possessions.

The first chapter is one of the BEST establishing introductions I’ve ever read, and yet there isn’t a single true flashback.  Hinata’s medication, abusive marriage, regrets, shames, they litter her thought process throughout that in no way interferes with the “now” narrative of meeting Naruto in an airport and waiting for a flight on standby.  We get a clear picture of everything she’s been through since high school, as well as worrisome insight into her mental health.

And all through Hinata’s pov, we get a shocking and intriguing glimpse into Naruto’s life.  Quite a few major players in the story are mentioned in the first chapter without any of them having a “spoken” line.  Various complex plot points are laid out that hold across the story - her financial instability, Ino’s business proposal, the unresolved divorce, her unanswered confession,... It’s crazy how well-thought out it is.

katarina develops the romance, character growth, friendships, family relationships, everything beautifully.  All sensitive topics are treated with care, rather than written to entertain a trope.  The fic goes beyond “what if?”, diving into difficult topics like domestic abuse, PTSD, substance abuse, anxiety, etc. without any romanticism.

She bites her lip and nods, leaving that evening without agreeing to anything. - Chapter 2, at the end of Naruto’s and Hinata’s “business meeting” at Ichiraku.

I’ll never get over the skill of this story.  Down to its structure, the layout is masterful.  It has the smoothest scene transitions I’ve ever read.  Ever.  In any fanfic or published book.  In one sentence, Hinata has left Naruto’s date invitation hanging and is working at Ino’s house the next morning.  In Chapter 5, within a few lines, Hinata is at a bar one night and then at Hanabi’s dress fitting the next day.  There are practically no scene breaks in the entire story except for, of course, at the end of a chapter.

"Oh, you forgot your name at the top." Hinata spotted.

"Oops." Shinachiku reached back for his pencil to fix his oversight. - Chapter 7, the first time Hinata babysits Shinachiku.

The CHILDREN.  Feel like real, actual children.  I’ve read so many fics where the children don’t act like children, or are not behaving at a maturity level appropriate to their age.  Shinachiku’s intelligence is off-the-charts, as expected of the son of Sakura, and his personality is spot-on for an only child.  His social awkwardness at a playground, his comfort level around adults, his attachment to routines, his inability at times to interpret admonishments correctly, there are a plethora of details put into this kid.

The details are vivid in every character, from Kurenai and her plant-based diet to Shikamaru and his AA coin, from Moegi with her opinions on pearl succulents to Mirai’s preteen snarky attitude.  There’s a huge cast and each one feels in-character like in canon.

“Yes, the stories are dangerous, she was right. A book is a magic carpet that flies you off elsewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?” -  Jeanette Winterson, Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal?

Did you come back?

I opened the door to “Serenity Prayer.”  I loved her so much I never left, I traced the veins of her words and ordered my own in her image.

When you step through my doors, I hope you recognize her magic.

[ask-elland-n-will]

[Relevant rps for reference: Honeydukes, Will's anon hinting at feels and setting a date, Andrew's anon, Theo telling Will that Andrew's birthday passed]

William has got the situation under control. He had an entire evening to think about it. Not night, mind you, just the evening: this is not a pickle-sized catastrophe to lose sleep over. Well, ok, maybe some sleep was lost but at least the time was used productively. 

Will woke up still feeling frustrated. Monty, not telling Will about his birthday? Hiding away on his birthday just in case? How adult of him! Don't want to celebrate at all — just say so!

Grumpy (which is a rarity for one called William Abbott) he makes it out of bed. It is still around five in the morning and everyone else is asleep so Will takes his time to prepare for the day. He makes sure that the water in the prefect bathroom is hot and contains the perfect amount of bubbles and lavender-scented salts. Teeth are brushed, hair is perfectly styled and clothes don't have a single wrinkle on them. The prefect badge shining on his chest is attached to the Slytherin robes with a protection spell just in case any niffler fancies taking on the prefect duty. Will already misplaced one of the badges, Merlin knows when the teal King of the dorm room will give it back.

The Slytherin is among the first ones to join breakfast but he has no appetite so he retreats back into the dorms sooner than normally. Totally not because he doesn't want to come nose to nose with somebody who doesn't see him as a friend enough to mention their bloody birthday. Fox spends some time sulking and getting no work completed on his personal projects like he usually does. 

Finally, five minutes before the official end of breakfast he grabs his broom, leaves the dungeons and makes a short flight down to the area of the docks. If anyone were to assume that he'd be taking the stairs down, they would be dead wrong. Work smarter, not harder.

He notices a small figure already by the water and tries to put on an amicable smile after hearing the endearing nickname Andrew gave him. He doesn't feel like flirting and teasing at all but the excitement in the Ravenclaw's voice makes Will's resolve stagger a little. They have to chat. Will doesn't want to ruin the... the date but he feels a little too distraught to enjoy the chace right now. Gods, he is really going to ruin it again, why can't he just ignore things like that!

William lands graciously, without a sound, and fixes his hair. The broom comes to rest against the walls of the boat house as William says:

"Andrew, good morning." 

It hasn't entirely been a good morning, nor has it been a good night. He does not come all the way to his companion and instead stands a couple of meters away. Merlin, he's missed Monty, and it's barely been a day! The mark on Will's neck is a good indicator of the fact that he did not imagine Honeydukes the day before. His neck is hidden under Andrew's scarf, and Will intends to give it back today. But he feels really stubborn about it, too. No, the hickey should be well hidden so as not to distract Andrew. 

"Listen. Before you say anything, I want to make something clear. Don't take it the wrong way. You are your own person. You are allowed to do whatever you want, you don't owe me or anyone anything. You don't have to tell us of your plans." 

Will takes a pause and comes closer to the water, looking into it instead of looking at Monty. He doesn't want to turn him away with his words so he tries to control his voice even if on the inside he feels more and more upset with each passing moment. The next thing he says sounds much quieter.

"Why didn't you tell me about your birthday."

The day was clear, still warm for it being nearly October. But Andrew noted the hints of change already on the edges of the trees lining the Great Lake. Before long, the view would look entirely different.

He considered alternative means of getting down to the boathouse since the steps would likely take him half an hour alone, but he was stubborn. As if stairs could best him. He could cut that time in half…and if he was honest with himself, he needed the time to think before meeting William there.

William.

The last few weeks the fox had been a resounding thought echoing in his brain. It had surprised Andrew to say the least.

Montrose had been so used to keeping to himself, so the recent AND sudden influx of interactions from peers, besides Theo, was perplexing. He hadn’t entirely known what to do with it, or known if any of it was genuine.

And, frankly, he had spent too much time questioning authenticity in the past he wasn’t in the business of doing it any longer. It may, or may not, have resulted in some prickly interactions.

There was only one person that hadn’t left him with doubts, despite not really knowing what in Merlin’s bloody name they were doing.

Andrew continues to walk down the stairs as he turns the thought over in his head, shoving his hands further into the pockets of his robe. An exasperated sigh works it’s way out as he thinks, his fingers pulling at a loose thread in the inside of his pocket.

William.

The Slytherin Prefect was quite unlike anyone else. Yes, they flirted like it was a sport, but beyond that he couldn’t deny that something was growing between them like a flower in bloom. No....more like an entire grove of lilac. Wild, everywhere, and enrapturing.

There was something Andrew respected in the way William went after everything he wanted, while also being intentional in the way he showed up for others. Even outside his prefect duties.

Will's constant curiosity was endearing, but it was his competitiveness that gave him an edge that drew Montrose in. William knew exactly how to make Montrose chase him. How to make him slightly try to behave himself. Even though they both struggled to behave when with they were with each other.

He had some kind of hold on on him that even Andrew had yet to determine for himself.

And all that teasing.

Merlin.

The lingering touches, discreet glances...and the not so discreet ones.

The way Will had created such wanting in Andrew, through seemingly small subtleties. It was all consuming. Montrose would have to be lacking a pulse to not be curious. To not want more.

He wanted to trust himself. He wanted to trust this. But he wasn’t without faults. He had been so used to only relying on himself that he hadn’t let anyone close enough, besides Theo, to even allow things to get to the point of curiosity. The shift Will caused in him had thrown him enough that he had disappeared for the last two weeks.

Even his birthday, where Theo had found him in their secret place, barging down the door and calling him a fool, as she did.

Theo told him to take the chance.

But Will made him want to take the chance.

So he came back. And he walked himself down all these stairs to the boathouse. And he waited for what came next.

Andrew looked upwards, to the great spires of the castle standing against the sun. In the light, he saw a small figure flying towards him, slowly growing larger and clearer in his view. He smiled as he called him down to where he stood.

“Fox!”

@ask-elland-n-will

[lexosaurus]

The Illusionist

Dannymay2021 prompt: Illusion

My Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover  Word Count: 5262 Read on: [ao3]

---

“A kid?” Shouta asked. 

The muffled sound of an explosion echoed from the other side of the phone line.

“He can’t be older than sixteen.” Kamui Woods' voice crackled through the receiver. “Eraserhead, this is going to sound crazy, but the kid has multiple quirks. We can’t get near him. He keeps...shit, he just flew through another wall!”

Shouta shifted his cell between his shoulder and ear, launching himself up a wall and onto the roof of a low building. He surveyed the distance and saw a bright green light flash from across the city.

That must have been them.

“We need you to nullify the quirks so we can contain him till the Illusionment wears off.”

“Alright,” Shouta said, jumping off the roof. “Send me your location. I’m on my way.”

It was a new villain, one that the public had dubbed ‘the Illusionist.’ His quirk was simple, yet effective. If he touched someone, he could make them hallucinate their worst fear. 

So far, the heroes and detectives on the case hadn’t been able to figure out much about the Illusionist himself. He never struck the same victim twice, and he didn’t seem to stick around long enough for pro heroes to find him. Not to mention, the majority of his attacks happened in dark alleyways to the local homeless population, far from any cameras that would have been able to pick up his face.

And that fact made Aizawa’s blood boil. Because these weren’t attacks of revenge. No, they were attacks from someone who thought it was fun to mess with the disenfranchised. Someone who enjoyed exerting their powers over those they perceived to be less than, like some kid on a playground squishing ants beneath their sneakers.

The Illusionist’s influence was powerful, and each victim reacted differently. For some, they just froze up, lying motionless until they were found. For others, they lashed out at anyone who dared get close. 

And in a society filled with countless unknown quirks, those of his targets who did lash out—though victims themselves—still needed to be dealt with.

The good news was, the quirk’s effects weren’t permanent, and he seemed to require a fairly long recharge time in between each attack. So the pro heroes never had to deal with more than one victim at a time.

So far, the heroes and police force had figured out two ways of dealing with the Illusionists’ victims. Either the victims were knocked out or put to sleep in some way, which seemed to instantly nullify the hallucination, or the victims were captured and taken to the police station to allow the quirk’s effects to naturally run their course.

Considering the heroes really wanted the victims brought in as peacefully as possible, it had been no surprise to Shouta when the other heroes started calling him in for assistance. Especially when the victims’ hallucinations caused them to fight back.

Such as, apparently, this one.

Shouta sprinted around a corner, panting. The cool night air brushed against his face, chilling his skin. He glanced down at his phone, only to see that Wood’s location had moved once again.

Which meant that the unstable, overpowered victim was on the move. 

Wonderful.

Just then, his phone lit up.

Shouta didn’t wait to see who it was. “What is it?”

“Eraserhead,” Kamui Woods said. “We’re going to lead him to you. Meet us over by the abandoned antique warehouse. And keep your phone on you, he’s a flight risk. Literally.”

“Understood. Any injuries?”

“A few civilians, but medics are already on it. Nothing serious.”

“Good.”

Shouta hung up and changed his course. He weaved between buildings, kicking up water as puddles splashed at his feet. 

If the heroes needed to lure the kid so far away from people, then things weren’t looking good. 

Which meant that he needed to end this. Now. 

But he didn’t make it to the warehouse. Not before a flying, glowing figure appeared through the wall, crashing into him first.

On instinct, Shouta activated his quirk and sent his capture weapon to the glowing figure, but his quirk had no effect. As soon as the scarf landed on the boy, he jerked away, phasing the scarf through his body.

Shouta blinked, deactivating and reactivating the quirk again. But just like the before, nothing happened. The figure—the boy—just continued to float in the air, his glowing green eyes staring wildly into the hero as if Shouta were the most terrifying human on Earth. He raised his hand, and a neon green swirling ball began to form around his fist.

“Watch out!” a voice behind him yelled.

Aizawa ducked just in time. The green blast hit the wall just above him, burning into the bricks like acid.

“Eraserhead, hurry!” Best Jeanist yelled.

Shouta tried again to activate his quirk, but it was no use.

The boy screamed, powering up an even bigger blast than last time.

“Eraserhead!”

Tree roots shot out in front of Shouta just in time. The blast hit Kamui Woods’ shield, splintering the roots and sending pieces flying through the air.

“Shit!” Shouta deactivated his quirk and jumped back, falling in line with the heros. “He’s resistant to my quirk!” 

“We need to get him away from the residential area,” Best Jeanist said. “Force him to the industrial complex.”

“You’re not forcing me anywhere,” the teen roared back in a thick accent. His white glow ebbed and flowed around him as if he were drunk. “I won’t let you get me!”

“What is he seeing?” Shouta asked the three heroes behind him.

“A kidnapping of some sort,” Hound Dog replied.

“He keeps referring to us as ‘Operatives’. We’re unsure what that means.”

Apparently their talking only angered the glowing teen further. He raised a fist and his eyes brightened, changing from green to blue. “You’re not taking me!”

“Go!” Best Jeanist shouted.

The heroes jumped out of the alley just as the teen released the glowing blue energy ball, coating the pavement in a shockwave of jagged ice.

“How many quirks does this kid have?” Kumai Woods exclaimed.

Aizawa landed on the roof and released his capture weapon. “Doesn’t matter. Get him to the warehouse. I have a plan, but I have to make a call first.”

“Got it!”

The heroes jumped off the roof, chasing the kid out the alley and through another building.

“Don’t lose him!” Hound Dog yelled, running around the corner after him.

Shouta stayed back, pulling out his phone and pressing one of his emergency contacts. He watched as another blue beam glowed from a few blocks over, followed by a burst of green.

What the hell is that kid? 

He couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. The kid could talk, could communicate, and yet he had multiple quirks? In the ten seconds Shouta had seen him, he was witness to flight, phase-shifting, glowing, cryokinesis, a green energy beam, and immunity to Shouta’s quirk. 

And yet, the kid wasn’t a nomu. He had intelligence. He seemed like he could have been a regular teen. A glowing one, sure, but a regular teen nonetheless.

So how did he end up with multiple quirks? And how did he become the Illusionist’s latest target? The Illusionist had only ever targeted homeless adults before. How did this teen get caught up in the mix?

Unless he was homeless himself.

The ringing stopped, and a tentative voice picked up from the other line. “Sensei?” 

Shouta breathed a sigh of relief. “Shinso, I need you to come to the field. I’ll send you a location. We need your quirk.”

“My quirk?” Shinso asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

One day Shouta would crack through that massive layer of insecurity Shinso still clung onto about his quirk.

“Illusionist hit a kid with multiple quirks. We can’t get near him and he’s resistant to my quirk. We need you to subdue him. Put him to sleep.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

“Sending a location now.”

Shouta hung up and forwarded his location before darting over to the scene, using the sound of the kid’s frantic attacks as his GPS. 

His feet pounded on the concrete. His quirk and capture weapon may have been useless against the kid, but that was fine. All he had to do was stall for time before Shinso could subdue him.

There was a loud bang, followed by a crash. Shouta skidded around the block and, using his weapon, launched himself onto a nearby roof.

There was a large hole in the side of a building that thankfully appeared to be empty. Dust clouded the air, but through it Shouta could see the kid backing into the building like a cornered animal, his arms raised and glowing a threatening acid green.

Kumai woods stepped forward slowly, his arms raised above his head. “We don’t want to hurt you!

“Don’t—don’t come another step!” The teen growled, stumbling to the side. His voice had an odd, echoing quality to it. “I’ve escaped your stupid compound once, and I’ll do it again!”

Shouta jumped down from the roof, landing in front of the heroes. He crouched down, trying to appear as non threatening as possible. “What compound?” 

The kid let out a bitter laugh. “Don’t act stupid! You were gloating enough last time!”

“We’re not going to take you to a compound,” Kumai Woods tried.

But reasoning with someone under the Illusionist’s influence was futile. Heroes and police officers had attempted it before, and it never worked.

“I’m not an idiot! I know what you do to people like me!”

Shouta froze, alarm bells going off in his head. Something was just... wrong. On a fundamental level, something wrong had happened to this kid. And based on the way his eyes darted around the empty room, he looked about a second away from making an escape.

Okay, Shouta had to stall. If the kid thought that the heroes were kidnappers, then maybe he could draw this out.

He tilted his head questioningly. “Sorry, I’m new here.” He felt his coworkers’ eyes burning against the back of his skull. “I wasn’t here for the last time.”

The kid’s distorted eyes locked onto him. “I’m sure you’ve read the reports.”

“Haven’t had time, actually. This is my first day.”

“You’re still wearing the suit. You’re still with them.”

Shouta stared at him for a moment. The kid’s stark white hair floated as if defying gravity, and the glow around him had almost an ethereal presence. But what stood out the most to him was his clothing. He was dressed like something out of a laboratory. His suit was thin and rubbery, with rubber gloves and boots to match.

He was definitely the product of a science experiment. There was no doubt about it. Likely a trafficked kid taken from another country and transported here for human experimentation.

Aizawa felt sick.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“You know where.”

“I told you, this is my first day. I just moved here. I don’t know you yet.”

Apparently, that wasn’t good enough for the teen. “I’m not saying anything. You can ask Operative K over there.” He nodded towards Best Jeanist.

“What sorts of things did they do to you? Last time?” 

“I—I don’t—” the teen stuttered, the green glow flickering out from his fists. He clamped his hands over his ears. “Shut up!”

“I don’t want to do those things,” Shouta continued. “I don’t want to...use you like that.”

“It doesn’t matter. If you’re with them, you’re here to take me. And I can’t, I can’t do that again. I’ll never let you take me. I’m smarter than your whole organization and you know it.” His eyes brightened with a frantic energy, warping until one eye was green and the other blue. “I’ve escaped from your stupid white compound once, and I’ll do it again.”

Aizawa rose slowly. 

This wasn’t looking good.

Hurry up, Shinsho. 

The kid raised his arms, and a swirling mass of green and blue encased his fist, traveling up his forearms and swallowing his elbows. It pulsated and grew, casting a shadow over the teen’s face.

“Eraserhead!” Hound Dog warned.

“I’m not going quietly.”

Shouta readied himself to dodge when a flash of purple caught his eye.

“Hey kid!” Shinso called out.

Glowing green and blue snapped over to the source of the new voice. “What?” he hissed.

Shouta could almost see the satisfied smirk under Shinso’s mask. 

“Go to sleep.”

The effect was immediate. The mass of energy faded from the kid’s hands, leaving only his natural white glow. He lowered himself to the ground until his toes were touching the cement, then his knees, and finally his head. Then, just when his eyes fluttered close, a white ring appeared at his waist, traveling up his body replacing the glowing, ethereal teen with a small European looking boy. 

“Whoa,” Shinso breathed.

Despite the protests behind him, Shouta slowly made his way over to the teen. His white hair had changed to black, and his skin had lost its glow completely. His laboratory clothes had been replaced with ripped jeans and a dirty white and red shirt. 

He looked...plain. Boring and scrawny. If Shouta hadn’t witnessed the terrifying figure just moments ago, he could have passed the boy off as just a quirkless kid.

Whatever he was, he was asleep.

“Good job, Hitoshi,” he said, turning back around to face the heroes. Not to his surprise, his husband and other child were among the group. “Present Mic, Todoroki,” he greeted.

Hizashi—ever the optimist—gave Shouta a cheerful wave along with a chipper, “Hello!” while Shouto stood quietly behind the heroes.

“Who is he?” Shinso asked, eyeing the sleeping teen warily. 

Best Jeanist made his way over to the group. “Some kid with multiple quirks. Likely from experimentation. With his amount of quirks, we have no idea what he’s like mentally. We need to get him to the police.”

“We sent them your location already. They should be here soon,” Hizashi said.

“Good.” 

Shouta gave the kid one last glance. 

What happened to him?

---

It didn’t take long before the police, led by Detective Tsukauchi, arrived at the scene. They were able to get the kid into quirk inhibitors, load him into the back of a car, and bring him into the station before he woke up.

Yamada brought the boys back home before meeting him at the station. Shouta made a mental note to grab Shinsho his favorite take-out meal tomorrow for his immaculate quirk usage.

When they arrived at the station, they brought a couch into one of the interrogation rooms, put the kid on it, and waited.

Shouta almost felt bad for him. It would have been scary for anyone to wake up after a traumatic hallucination wearing quirk inhibitors in a cold, unfeeling room. But unfortunately, nobody had known the extent of his quirks. Victim or not, he was still unstable.

Aside from sitting upright, the kid hadn’t moved an inch, and he couldn’t seem to be able to pass the inhibitors through his body like he had with Shouta’s capture weapon.

Which was good. That meant that the quirk inhibitors were doing their job.

Shouta stared at him through the one-way mirror. He’d been half expecting the same frantic energy from the teen boy as before, but the teen just sat there quietly. His slumped body language screamed resigned, while his eyes were slowly shifting around the room as if to memorize every speck of dust in the air.

“You would never suspect that kid would have multiple quirks,” Yamada said next to him. “He just looks so...tiny.”

Aizawa took a large gulp of his much-needed coffee. “And yet, he does.”

The door behind them opened, and a woman stepped through. She stopped in front of Detective Tsukauchi. “He’s not registered. We scanned the database and found no record of anyone with multiple quirks that fit his description. In addition, we ran the sample of the green substance from his projection quirk and couldn’t find any matches to any known compounds on record. We’ve sent the samples out for further testing.”

“No matches?” Shouta asked. 

“Interesting.” Detective Tsukauchi said. He turned towards the interrogation room’s door. “I believe it’s time to talk to our victim. Suzuki, I want you to stay outside. I think having more than one adult in the room may scare him off. Use your quirk, though. I have a feeling our victim may be a bit wary.”

The woman nodded and stationed herself next to Shouta. She stared at the boy, blinked, and then her eyes began to glow.

“It’s showtime.”

The moment the doorknob moved, the black haired teen’s body language shifted to something more alert, more guarded. His blue eyes tracked Tsukauchi’s movements until the detective had sat down in his metal chair.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Detective Tsukauchi. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble today. Would you like some water?”

The teen didn’t respond.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Based on previous victims’ responses, they had always been able to remember the hallucinations, but they couldn’t recall their actions or where they were during those times.

“It’s okay if you don’t. Again, you’re not in trouble.”

But the kid wasn’t relaxing. If anything, he looked more guarded than before. “If I’m not in trouble, then why am I here?”

“You were hit by a quirk,” he explained. “Have you heard of the Illusionist?”

The teen shifted. “Maybe.”

“He’s a villain who makes people experience their worst fears.”

A spark of recognition hit the boy’s eyes, but it was quickly masked by the previous reserved expression. “So I got hit.”

“Yes. So far his targets have all been random attacks.” Tsukauchi opened his manila folder, pulling out photographs and handing them to the teen. “This was from earlier tonight. Do you remember any of this?”

He scanned the photographs, and Aizawa watched as the color drained from the teen’s face. He stared at the folder in silence for a moment before his shaky voice said, “If I’m not in trouble, I’d like to leave.”

“We just have a few questions we’d like to ask in order to help us catch him.”

“I want to leave.”

Detective Tsukauchi seemed unphased by the kid’s request. “Alright, can I get your name? We can call your parents to come pick you up.”

As expected, the teen didn’t like this. He shoved the photographs back into Tsukauchi’s hands, leaned back against the couch, and crossed his arms. “I’m eighteen. Can I go now?”

“He’s lying,” Detective Suzuki whispered next to them.

Recognition sparked in Shouta’s brain. He remembered her, she had a Lie Detection quirk. It was quite useful for police work.

“In that case, we were unable to obtain any record of any adult with your quirk combinations. Japanese law dictates that every citizen must be registered in our quirk database. So if you are unregistered, then we’d need to go through the registration process before we can release you.”

“I’m not a Japanese citizen.”

“You here on vacation?”

The kid glared to the wall. “Something like that.”

“American?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you been visiting?”

The teen shrugged.

Tsukauchi jotted something down in his notebook. “Then I’d need to see your passport and visitor’s documentation for the official record, since you are now a victim in an ongoing investigation.”

The teen’s eyes narrowed, and he slumped down further into the cushion. “I don’t have any.”

“What happened to it?”

The teen shrugged.

Yamada leaned into Shouta’s ear. “He’s backed into a corner.”

“Yup,” Shouta took another swig at his coffee. “He can’t get out of this one.”

The teen huffed, frustration and a tint of fear strewn across his features. He ran a hand through his messy black hair. “Listen, can I just go? I don’t remember anything, okay? I was just sleeping and then all of the sudden I...I...he got me. But I swear I wasn’t doing anything, and I didn’t see his face.”

Detective Tsukauchi nodded compassionately. “I’m very sorry that this happened to you. It’s a very vivid and traumatic experience to go through. Unfortunately, we’re in a bit of a bind currently seeing as you are either an unregistered quirk user, or you have no proof that you’re in this country legally. Now if it’s true that you’re eighteen, we can’t let you leave without contacting the US embassy to get your identification.”

Any color left in the teen’s face vanished. “What if...what if they can’t identify me?”

“Can’t identify you? For what reason?”

The teen stood suddenly and walked over to the wall. His hands trembled, and he looked downright terrified.

Who was he scared of?

He picked at the ragged hem of his shirt. “I don’t—I’m not exactly…they—they just don’t know I exist.”

Shouta glanced at Suzuki, who seemed perplexed. 

“Is he telling the truth?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Suzuki said. “I don’t know how it’s possible, but he at least believes that he doesn’t have citizenship in Japan or the United States.”

“Even though he’s American.”

“Exactly.”

Aizawa’s brows furrowed, and he looked back at the teen, who was pressed up against the wall wringing his wrists with his fingers.

“Can you give me your name?” Detective Tsukauchi asked.

The teen bit his lip. “Uh it’s—it’s…” His voice was strangled. “It’s Danny Fenton.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Detective Tsukauchi gave him a comforting smile. “Okay, Danny. And do you know where you were born?”

“Uh…The United States.”

“But, and correct me if I’m wrong, you have no birth certificate? And no documentation to show legal entry to Japan?”

“I—yeah.”

“And you’re here in Japan now. Where have you been staying exactly?”

Danny’s eyes darted around the room. “I don’t know...around?”

“Okay,” Detective Tsukauchi shut his manila folder and stood. “Again, you’re not in trouble. You were a victim of a very serious crime, and we’re here to help you. I’m going to make a quick call, and I’ll be right back. The door’s unlocked if you need anything.”

If anything, that only made Danny look more anxious than before. He nodded, his face sheet white, and he tugged at the inhibitors on his wrists.

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Yamada asked quietly. He was dressed in his civilian clothes, and his hair was thrown up into a messy low bun. Without his uniform, his compassion towards the child shined out like a beacon. 

It was one of the many qualities that Shouta loved about him. His strong sense to protect the innocent, his caring nature to kids and those who were vulnerable in society, and the kindness he radiating from his being were qualities that were rare even among heroes. 

“We’ll contact the US embassy, but if the boy’s telling the truth and he doesn’t have a social security number or birth certificate, then he’ll get picked up by Musutafu’s social services and he’ll be put into the system.”

Yamada stared sadly at the child through the mirror. “He’ll just run away again.”

“He will,” Shouta agreed.

“I wish we could help him.”

Shouta sighed. “We can’t save everyone.”

“But you see it, don’t you?” Yamada asked. “There’s something going on that the kid’s not telling us. How else could he have gotten multiple quirks? Do you think it has anything to do with the League?”

Shouta glanced back at Danny, who was currently crouched against the wall with his head in his hands. He looked so small, so fragile. Aizawa could only wonder what events had led him here.

Just who was Danny Fenton? 

“Shouta, we can’t let him out on his own. We just can’t.”

Shouta sighed, running his thumb along the side of his coffee cup. “I know,” he said.

And he meant it.

---

“So…” Shouta started. 

Danny just looked tired. 

It had been a long night. Detective Tsukauchi got a hold of the US embassy’s emergency line, but they didn’t have any records of a Danny Fenton that had left the United States, nor did they have a single missing children’s report of a Danny Fenton, nor could they supposedly dig up any information of a Danny Fenton based on the information that Danny himself supplied, specifically that he was born in Illinois in a city called Amity Park.

It was as if he didn’t exist.

Detective Suzuki’s quirk was powerful, and it didn’t seem like Danny was able to fool it. After he met her and she explained her quirk to him, he finally admitted he was only fifteen. So then who was this kid? If he was from Amity Park, why did the United States have no record of him?

The heroes knew he had parents, but apparently—and Suzuki confirmed this—they’d disowned him, giving him to some shady organization. Danny wouldn’t say to who ended up with custody of him, but from what they’d been able to piece together, it hadn’t been good.

And any further digging just resulted in Danny clamming up.

So Danny was a runaway, one that apparently didn’t exist in either country he had lived in. And there was something out there that had terrified him into escaping to Musutafu and hiding here.

But he wouldn’t say what.

Regardless, the Musutafu police department now had a case of a minor in Japan who didn’t have any parents, guardians, or any known relatives in the country, nor did he have any record of housing at any point.

It was as if this kid were a ghost or something.

“What’s gonna happen to me?” Danny asked, hugging himself in his chair.

He seemed smaller up close. Too small.

“Well, social services will take you and place you in foster care,” Shouta responded.

“Oh…” Danny looked down. “You know...you’ve seen my powers. I’ll just disappear the moment we leave this building.”

Shouta raised his brows.

Of course, they all knew it. But the kid certainly had guts for admitting it out loud.

“Who are you running from?” Shouta asked.

Danny blinked at his bluntness. “No one.”

Shouta leaned in. “Is it the League of Villains? Are you connected with them?”

Danny’s arms shot out from his sides, waving frantically in front of his face. “No! No, I swear! I’m not a villain!”

“I didn’t say that.” 

“I…” Danny looked lost. 

“You have multiple quirks. That’s something the league’s been experimenting with. And they’re not shy about using real people to do so.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. I’ve never met them.”

“But you weren’t born with multiple quirks,” Shouta said. “Something happened that made you this way.”

He could see as all the pieces slowly crumbled inside Danny. The kid went from looking confused, to downright terrified. 

Bingo.

Aizawa’s instincts never failed him.

“Please, just let me go,” Danny begged. “I promise I won’t do anything. Please don’t hurt me.”

Shouta’s eyes widened. “Kid, slow down. I’m not here to hurt you. Okay? I’m on your side.”

That didn’t seem to help Danny at all.

Shouta set his arms on the table where Danny could see them. “You know, one of my foster kids has multiple quirks.” It was a half lie, but he didn’t think that Shouto would mind.

Sure enough, that seemed to pique Danny’s interests. “Really?”

“Yeah. Great kid, about your age. His father was experimenting with creating children who could house multiple quirks to offset his own quirk’s disadvantages, and my foster son came out of it. Just like you, he spent a lot of his life hiding too. He was alone, and scared. He didn’t know what to do or who he could trust, so he just hid.”

“What changed?” Danny asked.

“He asked for help,” Shouta said. “And we were able to bring him into a stable home.”

Danny’s eyes clouded over, and his face transformed into one of longing. As if he were visiting a memory that had long since abandoned him.

“We can get you that help too if you ask for it.”

“I...I can’t…”

Shouta sighed. “How long are you going to keep hiding? Running? Are you really okay with spending the rest of your life out on the streets?”

Danny ducked his head down. “It’s not so bad,” he muttered.

“But kid, you deserve so much more than that.”

The teen’s shoulders shuddered. He sniffed, and his hand shot up to wipe his eye.

Shouta refused to look away from him. “I don’t know how you got here, I have no idea what you’ve been through, but I know that you didn’t deserve it, and that regardless of what you think, you deserve a safe place to go home to.”

“I...I…” he croaked, curling into himself. Tears splashed onto his cheeks. 

“You’re strong, you’ve done so much alone. Now we can help you.”

“I can’t…”

“You can, Danny.”

At that, Danny broke. He squeezed his eyes shut, twisting his hoodie in his hands. Shouta watched as he tried to muffle his sobs, but he couldn’t. His body shook as his emotions poured into the open.

Shouta didn’t know how long this kid had been holding it all in. Just how many days, weeks, months had he been shoving everything down, too focused on surviving each day to be able to stop and feel?

Pain stabbed Shouta’s heart. He remembered that torment all too well, one of homelessness, of abuse, of not knowing where his next meal was coming from and fighting for the bare necessities. Although he wasn’t so much of a soft, touchy-feely guy himself, right now he wanted nothing more than to reach over and hug the crying teen.

When it seemed like Danny was finally able to pull himself together, Shouta leaned in and asked, “Will you let me help you, Danny?”

Danny scrubbed at his eyes and nodded.

“If you want,” he said, making sure to articulate each word clearly. “I can assist you in getting placed in a good home. There’s another option too.”

“Yeah?”

“The other option is you can stay with me.”

Danny stilled, his eyes shooting open and his lips dropping to form a small ‘o’.

“My husband and I have a city approved foster home, and we also happen to have an open bed at the moment. Given your unique situation, I have the option of housing you if you’ll let me.”

Danny didn’t respond. He just continued to stare at Shouta in shock.

“Of course,” Shouta said quickly. “If you are uncomfortable with that, and it’s okay if you are, there are other good foster homes out there that I personally know and can get you placed in. It’s whatever you prefer.”

The teen closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he finally looked back at Shouta, he had that same longing expression as before. “If it’s alright...could I stay with you? At least for a little while?”

The corners of his lips tugged up. He remembered all too well when Yamada turned to him just before Shouta was about to age out of the foster system and asked him if he wanted to move in together. He remembered the shock, the surprise that anyone could possibly care that much about him, that anyone would want to live with him.

And now, he had a family. One that was about to become a little bigger.

“Of course. I’d love to have you.”

---

Thanks for reading!

[check out some of my other fics]

[metasnkpotato]

Final opening

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2S4qGKmzBJE&ab_channel=bachlokillo

THIS OPENING

is an absolute banger. The fact it being Eren-centric (the lyrics are still in first person, Eren speaking) and heavy metal is so perfect to this second part.  There’s a lot of things to say so here we go (but beware of spoilers).

ANALYSIS CLIP / LYRICS

First image is Eren’s eyes opening. It make furthermore sense since the starting images depict a separated EMA in which only Eren is preparing himself whereas Mikasa is letting go of her scarf and Armin is eyes-closed, seeming to sleep behind bars.

By the way, all characters except for Eren are in reflective poses, all seem to be in the throes of existential crises and above all, at a standstill. 

Eren in the clip seems to be the only one who walks which embody the fact he never stops moving forward.

So Eren, which we’ll follow all along, is seeking for liberty. But it's an insatiable quest that never satisfies him, which makes the big difference between him and Armin otherwise. The fact that the freedom Eren seeks will never be truly his is represented by the following shots of him walking in a dark corridor, with a ceiling (a ceiling blocks the passage to the sky, prevents flying away) following the flight of birds but at which level he’s only found in background.

We find further his little walk with the birds, this time on the wall. There's no more ceiling because Eren has continue to go on, and he is this time beyond the walls. Also, you never know what Eren is watching. His gaze is focused straight ahead, giving an impression of mystery since Eren's true intentions only erupt towards the last chapters, but it should be noted that he is never focused on birds anyway.

But then we see Eren lash out in front of Reiner with visible rage, which reminds us that Eren remains plagued by hatred and prisoner of a past he would have wanted better for those he loves.

But it is interesting to see that unlike the others warriors, Reiner is showed awake and determined, cause Reiner has a hero like role this last season.

Even though then warriors are depicted in their titanic forms as fighting, they also are represented in their human form like the other as being at a standstill, in a kind of depression state.

(doing those shots allows me to see this little surprise of Ymir being in the reflect of Porco, which is also interesting here about their own interior demons they’re fighting).

Transition to the following scenes : Bertholdt's memories, sadness mingled with the tragedy of his life and his end (tear of blood flowing to Armin) seems to be Armin awakening to his titanic form, which then gradually resurges in the action.

What ends Eren's wanderings, the point where he stops walking is where he thinks he has achieved freedom, which is immediately overshadowed by black and white plans, then reference to his first murders when he was twelve years old

and then above all, by the seen of all the victims of rumbling

At the end, although Eren stopped moving forward and stopped at the mass slaughter to watch at the imagery of his “freedom”, a character finally gets back into action :

Mikasa, beyond the walls too is wearing her scarf again assuming Eren’s life weight in her own and stating her opposition to Eren’s acts while revealing truly her love for him. It makes sense regarding what we know of the story : Mikasa is the hidden hero, in connection with Ymir on one hand since the beginning and deciding to deliver the final blow to Eren on other hand, which will stop well, the entire story.

Which leads to the EMA climbing hill scene, but which is modified here so that there is a few moments of vacuum once the objective of the race is reached.

It may not sound like much but followed by the evolution of Eren then his final screaming (wonderfully connected with the song by the way, which definitely seems to be his own creation) makes once again that we feel the impossibility of Eren to be satisfied, struggling with himself about that. 

Indeed the race is portrayed in the manga as being a source of happiness for Mikasa and Armin which are just happy being the three of them but not for Eren, whose only thought is to win it.

Everything relates to the final image of a butterfly with broken wings by rumbling : 

Eren is this butterfly in a way, with a fleeting freedom that ends up being trampled on, crushed by the weight of his choices.

LYRICS

I'm not going to do such a lengthy analysis of the lyrics as it seems to me that they speak for themselves quite well but I just wanted to underline the fact that I appreciate Eren's direct address to Mikasa.

“ All I ever wanted to do was save your life I never wanted to grab a knife, I swear “

The reference to their meeting is made twice in the clip, and it seems important to me because here shown as the first choice Eren made towards rumbling. All the more important since it belongs to Eren in his own being, even before the whole history of the titans finally and especially of the legacy of the Attack Titan.

The entanglement of the destiny of Eren and Mikasa as respective heroes from two opposing angles seemed really interesting to me because it was very paradoxal and intuitive though.

Okay, well that was it for me, it's really nice to see the last part of Attack on Titan happen although it also marks its end. Hoping that this part will be as qualitative as this very promising opening.

[umbreonix]

Random Revalink Fluff

The hammock was entirely still, sheltered from all wind by the outermost rock walls of Tabantha’s massive volcanic caldera.

It wouldn’t have been Revali’s pick of spots, he usually quite enjoyed a gentle breeze but it would have been uncomfortably chilly for the hylian nestled into his side. Instead they came here, to a small cluster of cedars that overlooked the village, just far enough to be private.

That part, Revali did agree with. The privacy that was.

How had this happened?

It was absolutely absurd. He wasn’t exactly sure what this was but had the good sense to know that until it had a name, it was better to be kept a secret. He did everything in his power to keep these baffling moments hidden from the gossiping geese and glancing ganders that patrolled the spiraling wooden platforms of Rito Village for their daily blabber. Goddesses above! If nothing else, they could be commended for their unwavering hyper vigilance. If only his soldiers showed that same dedication to their own rounds.

Link moved, finally rousing from their afternoon siesta. One of his legs was tangled with Revali’s and his squishy pink little foot purposely began playing with the rito’s own much rougher and taloned one. His toes soon found and curled around Revali’s hind claw while his nose traced a slow line up his feathery side before burying into his chest.

When had this happened?

Well, he did have an answer for that. It was after the fall of the calamity. The unbearable little knight had disappeared into the Great Hyrule Forest and returned without his holy sword… and with the first smile Revali had ever seen painted across his lips.

His soul had been body-swapped and he was a different person entirely. It was the only explanation.

Except that couldn’t be the case. Even now, in this moment, as Link continued to stir awake, he began absentmindedly rubbing circular motions over the scar on Revali’s abdomen. It was the spot where he had once felt compelled, for some unknown reason, to take an arrow for the princess’ guard dog. The flesh mark had long since become hidden under his regrown feathers and so was something that this imposter could have never known about.

Therefore and in conclusion, this man he now held in his wings and the knight he once despised with all of his being were one and the same.

They hadn’t gotten to this point immediately of course.

There was a gap of time even where Link had disappeared entirely. It had to have been for over a year although Revali hadn’t cared enough at the time to keep track.

Just as he figured he was gone from his life for good, he started showing up in Rito Village.

It seemed he had been travelling. His hair had grown long and unruly, his skin was darkened by sun in all the areas that used to never see the light of day from under his clunky metal armor. There were freckles that now dotted his face and shoulders where his skin had once been the same pure porcelain as Zelda’s, indicative of how much time he spent stationed inside at various doors in the castle. When combined with his wooden expressions, he looked remarkably like one of those creepy-eyed dolls hylian girls like to carry around.

Now, in present time, his face was more often than not twisted into some wide and wild grin, matching the disorderly mottled canvas of brown spotty constellations over reddening sun-streaks in equal measure.

When he had first shown up, he mostly spent his days at the flight range. He seemed determined to finally remedy his piss-poor archery. Too little, too late if you asked the rito bowmaster but his efforts seemed to be more so for ‘fun’ than necessity. Still, his sense of self preservation was no better than when he had worked for the hylian royal family. He continually attempted death-ensuring maneuvers with his paraglider and Revali ended up having to save him from snapping his neck on the rocks below numerous times.

Soon, Link had taken to following the rito about on his daily wanderings like an imprinted fletchling.

Then, just as that strange turn of events began to feel almost normal, he began making moves.

Touches that couldn’t have been mistaken as innocent, looks that were too soft and affectionate to just be friendly.

Revali pretended to not notice and that was his downfall. By not talking about any of this, it had been taken as a sort of acceptance and, being given that inch, Link started to feel entitled to miles.

By now he had kissed just about every part of Revali’s face at one time or another. He would also often come up behind him when he wasn’t expecting it and wrap those tiny little arms around his torso and bury his face in Revali’s scarf.

Eventually, for whatever reason, Revali acquiesced to these gestures and now here they were taking afternoon naps on sunny days with the clandestine secrecy of a lover’s tryst.

Is that what they were? Lovers?

Link had grown bored with Revali’s scar and has since sat up, beginning to let his hand wander up and down his front, carefully reading and cataloguing each muscle, feather texture and imperfection (non-existent by the way)

“You hylians sure are handsy, aren’t you?” Revali finally murmured, interrupting the blond’s exploration before he could reach back up to his chest to feel Revali’s now thundering heartbeat that traitorously echoed his sudden revelations.

Link looked at him.

“Really,” Revali insisted, now curious. “Why do you all need to touch everything you see with your hands? Your whole body is covered in exposed skin is it just convenience or?”

Link pulled away the hand that had been tangled in his stomach feathers to look at it for a moment before showing it to the rito.

Revali tentatively took it, sitting up as well and turning it over in his wing, not entirely sure what he was inspecting.

“There’s ridges,” Link said, never really having lost his tendency towards short stilted sentences. “They help us feel things better.”

Revali squinted at the crinkly skin of the palm, initially thinking he was referring to the wrinkles set into the places that creased whenever he folded his hand into a fist. Then his keen falcon-like eyes noticed the patterns that spiraled all across the hills and valleys of the inner hand, extending all the way up to the pads of each finger.

He quickly examined the back of Link’s hand and down his arm where the skin looked more scaly, like what he came to expect of a skin texture, similar to what one would see on the shins and feet of a rito.

The spirals were apparently contained to just that one area of Link’s flesh. 

He grazed a wing tip over the natural designs, as if he would be able to feel them though the thin hair-like feathers that fuzzed over the skin of the finger-like appendages he used to hold his bow. He couldn’t end up feeling them of course, but he could watch the way the touch-sensitive hand closed a little in ticklish reaction.

He readjusted to holding it in a more typical manner,  although with the size difference of their ‘hands’ Revali had to use only the tips that approximated a pointer finger and thumb.

They weren’t lovers, but they could be.

Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.

Link’s hair was out of its ponytail and completely free, the locks sprawled out behind him where Revali’s other wing was still cradled beneath him, bolding demonstrating how well his wheat-coloured hair was complemented by the deep navy of the feathers behind. He would look good in braids. Specifically, braids intertwined with a carefully selected assortment of Revali’s feathers.

Altogether, it would all just look… right.

Revali took Link’s hand and guided the fingers upwards to brush his cheekbones along the little specks of red feathers that he never seemed to have grown out of.

Link looked at him in surprise, unused to Revali ever initiating any of these little acts of affection.

Mind made up, he slowly trailed the hand down along his neck until it was splayed out firmly on his chest where his heart drummed through his ribcage to meet it.

His green eyes, the shade of sunlight through a leaf canopy, bore into Link’s teal ones, asking him without the words his dishonest beak would never be able to muster out anyway if he understood the message.

Link stared at him for a good long moment before nodding a leaning forward, kissing the flange of his gape at the furthest corner of his beak.

They spent the rest of the afternoon not moving from that hammock, sprawled out on their sides exchanging experimental caresses. 

As lovers would do.

[countessofbiscuit]

dirty two club

Fox loves Riyo with every beat of his propane heart | ao3 

Commander Fox Week - Day 4: Bonding | Laughter  No Warnings Apply Teen, 1000 words @loving-fox-hours . . .

It was one of the most protean statutes on Coruscant’s books: vehicles with certain uplift-to-thrust ratios (mup-per-ktu) were prohibited for public use.

Given the altitude of most skylanes, and the near-universal zoning restrictions regarding pedestrian-level traffic in built-up areas, owning a speeder bike in Galactic City meant paying more for storage than fuel.

The real target of this rule?

Swoop bikes and their dangerously elastic flight ceilings.

More specifically, the reckless racing of these overpowered engines with seats through the city maze.

A discreet citizen could get away with operating a speeder or swoop in the lower levels, provided it wasn’t modded to the Maw and back with rally lights, exhaust tips, and showy gas purges. Cops couldn’t be everywhere; the knowing knew CSF droids were only tripped by irregular speed. It was flying in an anti-social manner that got one into trouble.

Commander Fox, legal operator of an otherwise illegally modded Aratech 74-z speeder bike, never did that. Nor did he ever attend those unlawful fixtures.

But a tall, dark, and disguised being who called himself Kett did.

Tonight he was joined by a little lady who called herself Twirrl. Her pretty face was heavily caked up. She was made only mostly modest by velvet swatches and lace doilies that had been dubiously stitched together. Like a Corellian folktale had crashed into a brothel. Or a senator had dug through her closet for the hottest fashion circa the Apprentice Session of ‘71.

“You’ll blow our cover, Commander Hoverhands,” Riyo Chuchi teased, before using a trashcan to climb onto Fox’s shoulders.

She didn’t want to miss anything. She might have seen a topside race or two, where the fines were covered by the price of admission to designated penthouses. Everything was legal for the rich. The underworld flavor of speed would be altogether a new experience.

This race had been advertised on a forum that hadn’t made it onto CSF’s Traffic Division watchlist. Privately, Fox hoped it stayed that way. The experience was different for him, too. Better. Riyo’s gasp of delight when each pack cornered into view sounded almost vulgar. Her bare legs clenched against his neck every time an engine popped like a slugthrower, running rich.

Fox’s palms grew sweaty on her thighs. She’d demanded he put them there, instead of holding her primly by the ankles of her knee-high boots.

“I think my racer has yours pipped!” she squealed during the fifth heat.

“Is that so?” Fox replied, amused. She’d insisted on fronting all his bets.

Riyo leaned down and kissed his shrouded temple. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you pay up … unless you want to dip your big fingers into my pink purse later.”

Her hoarsening voice dripped into his ear. Bikes swept past in a rolling roar. His heart thumped wildly under the crush of everything he loved.

Dizzied, Fox squeezed her in agreement, beaming but burning under his shemagh. It wasn’t the racing scarf she’d gifted him. He kept that tissued in its box; the silk felt finer than sea-spray, and Pantoran plum dye—Pantoran-snails guts wasn’t flattering, if more accurate—carried a whiff of something ripe. Imperceptible to Pantorans, or so they claimed, noses in the air.

The delicious aroma of fumes was dulled enough. Fox laughed stupidly anyway, when their neighbor’s live holo confirmed Riyo’s racer the winner. She nearly strangled him with drunken rejoicing. And then she was falling backwards, shit—

Worse: she was planting a kiss on the polite devaronian who’d let them in front. Loudly complimented him on his handlebars. It had Fox ready to jump the painted cordon, commandeer a swoop, and remind Riyo of the real meaning of fast. Hold on, sweetheart.

They’d monkeyed down here, level by level, without his bike. It flashed Guard racing stripes and had probably flashed up in the rearview of more than one criminal here. CSF had a no-chase policy. Fox didn’t.

Fox relaxed his shoulders (but not his grip) and remembered why he was here.

“What would you do, if the war ended tomorrow and you could make your own life?” Riyo Chuchi had asked, over a closeted cup of caf in his office. Verbal references were often required for extending diplomatic protection. Totally professional.

Fox had been blindsided by the question. Marry you was his instinctive answer. But she probably already knew that. He blurted out the only other thing that came to mind, because his mouth had been spoiled by her generosity. Emboldened.

“Race swoops.”

“Really?” Her expression had been colorful. Not a shade of doubt. On a scale of one to ten, Fox’s bike was juiced up to eleven with the dial broken off. Its high-output repulsor coils didn’t belong in any government-issued speeder.

“Yes. But not arena racing. Too samey—and corporate. Off-world courses. Street, if you’d let me.”

“I would if I knew what that meant.”

Fox hemmed. “Erm ... the illegal ones. Downbelow.” Recreational strips and arenas had all succumbed to Corrie property tax and prices; it left the average Joph nowhere to blow his brakes off. Even if Fox would order them shot down if they ever entered federal or military airspace, he sympathized.

“Interesting,” Riyo had said, grinning behind her mug. NO FOX GIVEN was the least offensive one in his cupboard. “Well, what a senator doesn’t see can’t compromise her position.”

“You wouldn’t want to see. It’s dicey stuff. And not the most proper.” Nitrous blasts up skirts and the like.

“What makes you think so?” Riyo pressed. “And why do I sense you know a lot more about this than you’re letting on?”

“... Because I’m in law enforcement?”

Her had eyes glowed with the dawn of excitement. “Not that kind.”

Fox had once promised to take Riyo anywhere she wanted to go. She’d been bed-bound at the time. Hospitalized. Sad and injured and heartbreakingly fragile and—

And he had meant it. Fox just made a mental note that Riyo’s memory was stronger than symoxin.

And he took her to the races.

. . . . . 

with love to @tiend​ for pointing out the uncanny similarity between Tyrian purple and Pantoran plum. and just with love in general ♥  (ao3)

[secret-engima]

I’m kinda curious what oz and team strq’s relationship is like in your ‘always i dreamed’ verse is like. got any headcanons to share?

ABSOLUTELY.  :DDD

Now I could make this very angsty but I’m in a fluff mood so all aboard the (mostly) fluff train.

-Oz 100% becomes Team STRQ’s exasperated sibling figure and an adopted member of the team. They now refer to themselves only as Team STORQ (stork) because this is their Sad Headmaster Man. Ozpin is wary at first, but there is no stopping Raven once she decides to adopt and the others follow her lead.

-They have successfully moved into his apartment by the time they are fourth years, even if they hide this fact so Oz won’t get in any trouble for it. Just- this team of semi-feral and totally feral teens moving in and setting up shop in his too big apartment/could practically be a house inside another building that he inherited from the previous Oz. Taiyang is now the group cook, Qrow keeps flopping on the couch to play video games with the console he brought home from SOMEWHERE, Summer likes to maintain their weapons on the kitchen table and Raven is always down for sidling up next to his armchair to listen to him read aloud from whatever book he’s reading.

-Note that this is all the far side of a slippery slope for these kids, and it wasn’t an entirely fast process with Ozpin being stubbornly aloof afraid to make personal connections and Team STRQ being wary of their mysterious “only a few years older” Headmaster. But after Raven gets attached (read: breaks into his apartment at one point by accident because she had come to the conclusion someone had kidnapped him and discovered to her surprise that she could portal to him, which meant she was more attached than she thought) there is no escape. The adoption of Sad Wizard Man was inevitable.

-Team STRQ manages to hold a veneer of propriety in public right up until they graduate. Then they give it two weeks and promptly stop caring what the public will think and start openly hanging out with Ozpin. Qrow and Tai will drag him off on “guy hangouts” that USUALLY end in a narrow escape from trouble or even the police (Qrow’s luck at work), Summer will lure him into taking the day off to go book shopping with her, and if he stays in his office for too long doing paperwork when he should be clocking out and eating dinner/sleeping, Raven with calmly open a portal, march through, and then potato sack him back through the portal. No she doesn’t care if anyone is in the room to witness, Ozpin is terrible at self care and Raven is here to ensure he takes care of himself. Even if she has to force him to take breaks.

-All of Vale knows the rumors that Ozpin is in a relationship with all of Team STRQ by like- the end of the year after they’ve graduated, but these disaster children are 1000% platonic. They’re just like cats rather than conventional people. Sibling shenanigans and cuddle piles on the couch are all part of how they express affection and Raven and Qrow don’t care what society says and Tai and Summer have learned not to care either.

-Ozpin teaches all of them how to dance. Being a quasi-immortal means you know a lot of different dancing styles, and after Team STRQ gets curious he’s happy to teach them. His favorite is swing dancing but shhh.

-Ozpin is a school Headmaster and has memories stretching back thousands of years and many, many lifetimes. He knows how to comport himself with dignity and reserve, how to sit back and strategize rather than leaping into a situation before looking. He is unquestionably the Braincell of the group.

-Until he’s not.

-Qrow and Raven take far too much glee in coaxing Oz to act his *physical* age rather than the layers of mental age he has going on. And since he’s only in his twenties still when they graduate, that means they manage to talk him into doing some Really Stupid Stuff. Luckily, being a quasi-immortal and two ex-bandits means they are very good at escaping without being caught.

-Of course Team STRQ are involved in the Salem Thing, and so they do take orders from him, but off the clock they’re his gremlin siblings and he loves them fiercely. He honestly expects them to treat him differently after he tells them about Salem and the curse thing (they set up shop in his apartment back when they thought he was just a sad, too-young Headmaster who needed a Team of his own), but other than Summer acting weird and thoughtful for a few days to process and Tai stress baking to wrap his head around the “immortal queen of grimm exists” thing they go right back to treating him like they always have. So what if he’s a tangled ball of memories and magic limping around in a green scarf? He’s *always* been like that, now they just know why he can curse fluently in long dead languages.

-Ozpin still gives Raven and Qrow birb powers, Raven and Qrow proceed to take turns, when not on mission or otherwise busy, to perch on Ozpin’s shoulder for the day. All of Beacon knows about Ozpin’s “pet birds” by now and there are a lot of urban legends about it, but no one realizes that these birbs are his feral Branwen siblings keeping an eye on him and making sure he takes a lunch break while working.

-Because, as previously established, Ozpin kinda sucks at self care. Comes from having too many lifetimes worth of self-sacrificing mentality all blended around in one’s head.

-Raven fully abuses her portal powers to keep her family together. She and Tai have a nice place on Patch and Oz missed the flight over for the night when he was planning (read: ordered by Summer) to take the weekend off? No problem. Ozpin forgot something back at his apartment? Hi Glynda don’t mind her. Nice apartment by the way but Raven’s just passing through. (Glynda: sighs in annoyance but this has been happening for years and she doesn’t bother to care anymore)

-The Branwen twins were raised in a bandit camp, which means groups sharing economically sized (small) tents, which means sharing sleeping space. This means these two birbs have no concept of “propriety” when it comes to snoozing when there are loved ones around. It took a long time, but they slowly infected Tai and Summer with this lack of care too, and so when they got attached to Ozpin and discovered that this boy had possibly the largest bed ever (also inherited from his predecessor for reasons lost on Oz, since heaven knows Osamu had no interest in intimate relations), the result was inevitable. More than once Ozpin has woken up to discover that all of Team STRQ had migrated over to his bed at some point in the night and were passed out in varying positions and proximities on it. There is in fact enough room for them to all sleep without touching, but by morning Ozpin usually finds himself in the center of a tangled cuddle pile anyway with Taiyang serving as the space heater center and the others all clinging to one limb or another, either each other’s or Oz’s.

-It’s ... nice. It reminds him of lifetimes *lonng* ago when families all tended to live in one or two room houses. Or lifetimes when he had blood siblings who did this.

-Even though he knows this is flirting with death for them, because Salem would love to ruin this happiness he has, but he knows he cannot convince them to stay away, and he’s been starved for positive touch for lifetimes and he is ultimately a weak man who makes mistakes. And even knowing this will likely be one of them, he cannot bring himself to escape the pile.

-It just ... feels so good to not be alone. At least for one lifetime.

[jrmangasummaries]

JR Act 49: Initial Thoughts

There truly is no other feeling in the world than reading a chapter of Junjou Romantica for the very first time. I laughed out loud, I screamed, and towards the end I all but melted. Interestingly some of my previous predictions came true while other observations proved false. Come and join me as I continue my JR journey with fresh eyes after the cut.

The closest thing that I’ve ever come to a Junjou Romantica message board (aging myself a bit but shout out to anyone who still remembers message boards!) is the comment section underneath the chapters uploaded on the MangaNelo site. Someone said that Misaki should have been a chef instead of going into publishing. He certainly has a gift, but he’s constantly selling himself short and playing everything down since he’s usually quicker to credit the ingredients. 

Usagi’s death stare that popped on the second page made me laugh out loud so hard. 

How does Misaki manage to tie his scarf in the most perfect bow in the back each and every time? Boy, you better share your secret! Okay, so even though I screamed when Misaki was getting kidnapped, I did recognize those “Usami ninjas” with Usagi-chichi in the previous chapter so I wasn’t too surprised that he was the culprit. When Tanaka told Misaki to come by the estate in the last chapter, I don’t think this is how either of them envisioned it. My theory is that Usagi-chichi kidnapped Misaki because he figured that if anyone would get through his stone cold wife, it would be the guy who successfuly got through his stone cold son. He actually gets his wish but at the same time it’s really heartbreaking to see the hoops that he needs to jump through just to talk to his wife for a little bit.

There’s something so endearing about Misaki calling Usagi by his given name. Yet at the same time, when he says “Akihiko” the name seems foreign coming from his lips. I love how this is the first chapter Misaki finally refers to Tanaka by his actual name.

For those who need a refresher, it was in Volume 20, Act 39 when Usagi-chichi last warned Misaki that continuing a relationship with his son is dangerous. Back then Misaki didn’t have much of a response but boy, did he ever step up to the plate this time around! I am so proud of him. Hello, character growth! And to have Usagi-haha in his corner is also a bonus.

Ah, the Usami family is all together probably for the first time since Usagi left home. It was quite a powerful moment. But as far as a Misaki GPS goes, let’s hope that Usagi is talking about his phone and not a microchip embedded inside of him...

I really liked it when Misaki referred to himself as Usagi’s lover so naturally. I know that more than enough time has passed, but I’m currently combing through the anime and corresponding manga chapters to spot the differences for the Wiki and I’m at the chapter where Misaki has a hard time accepting that he’s going out with Usagi and they go on a date.

Okay, so while I was totally getting meet-the-parents / getting-to-know-the-son-in-law vibes, I would have never expected Usagi to actually deliver wedding vows! Oh my gosh, if I ever thought that I was short-changed from the Marriage booklet, this more than makes up for it! God, how I love this couple. 

In the sexy times scene... did Usagi just coach Misaki on how to be a power bottom? 😳 AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT MISAKI KISSING USAGI ON THE FOREHEAD? And the way his hand is on top of Usagi’s head?! And Usagi’s reaction?!?! Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh. The look on Usagi’s face reveals that this is probably the first time Misaki kissed him without any prompting or prodding or teasing. Come on Misaki, it’s been four years!

I looked up Kyushu on the map. It’s only a 1 hour and 40 minute flight so I don’t know why Misaki was freaking out. I guess he probably thought they were traveling by train to somewhere closer.

Man, Nakamura really can’t get enough of Ijuuin-sensei, eh? But seeing him and Usagi pretending to be cordial was pretty hilarious.

Coming up: for anyone who has been following my blog, I’ve mentioned that Act 48.5 is the last chapter left to translate and typeset. It turns out that I was wrong. Volume 25′s Junjou Mix was never translated in English so I’ll work on releasing that next! 

[summerwritesfics]

🎆Neo-Tokyo

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 3099 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Cyberpunk AU, Cyborg!Kuai Liang, Implied dystopian world, Freedom fighting, Dehumanising language (Kuai is referred to as a weapon multiple times), Mentions of murder/assassination, Choking, Panic attacks, Anger and bitterness over loosing a loved one, Putting aside differences for the greater good, Mentions of manipulation, Bi-Han being a dorky scientist in a sort of flashback, Technically Bi-Han created Kuai Liang but they still refer to and consider each other brothers Song: Neo Tokyo - Scandroid

Other Series Masterlist

Let go, take flight, Dreams begin to reignite, So clear, so bright, We're glowing in the dead of night, Plug in, online, The datastream linking our minds, Circuits entwined, We'll dream of Neo-Tokyo tonight

Rain poured down upon the streets of Neo-Tokyo, neon signage reflected in the puddles. Kuai Liang pulled his hood and scarf further over his face, but it wasn't to protect himself from the rain. He needed to keep his identity hidden, his face plastered upon multiple screens throughout the city alerting everyone to the fact he was a dangerous piece of stolen weaponry.

Glancing around to make sure he wasn't being followed, he slipped down an unassuming alleyway. Rain lashed against his legs as he came to a familiar door. Taking another look around his surroundings, he hit the buzzer.

"Yes?" A voice crackled from the box. A simple greeting on the surface, but Kuai knew by now the true meaning behind it.

"There are fates worse than death," Kuai replied. It took seconds for passcode to be accepted, and for the door to buzz open. He let himself in, making sure one last time there was no one else around, before shutting the door securely behind him.

He made his way down the hall, where a blonde woman stood waiting for him.

"Welcome back," Sonya greeted, as he finally pulled his hood and scarf down. "Did you manage to retrieve what we need?"

"I did," Kuai replied, discarding the wet coat he was wearing and hanging it on the wall. He turned to Sonya, tapping his temple, "Everything you need is ready for download."

"Good." There was an awkward silence where Sonya did not move out of the way. Kuai narrowed his eyes, there was clearly something she needed to tell him, but was reluctant to for some reason. She cleared her throat, before she finally said "we have a guest. And you aren't going to like who it is."

Kuai didn't ask, he didn't dislike too many people, so it was a minuscule pool of people it could be. He walked into the meeting room, and his eyes set upon the man Sonya had been talking about. His facial recognition software went off, bringing up all the mans personal data, but even without that, he knew exactly who it was. Somehow, out of anyone it could potentially have been, it was the absolute worst person possible. Hanzo Hasashi.

"What is he doing here?" Kuai snarled, glaring the man down. To his surprise, Hanzo almost shrunk into himself.

"Mr. Hasashi has offered us information on Quan Chi's plans in exchange for protection," Raiden spoke, very quickly making his way to Kuai and placing a hand in front of him.

"And you believe him?" Kuai sneered. Hanzo had never shown any concerns for what his boss was doing before now, had happily gone through with the plans, why would it change so suddenly unless it was a trap of some kind?

"I've vetted him," Kenshi spoke up from his spot at the table. "They think he’s here to infultrate us, but his own thoughts prove his real intentions. He's safe."

Kuai glanced around the room, Jax, Johnny, Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Kitana and Jade all said nothing to contradict the psychic. The last person in the room, Fujin, stood lent against the door frame and only offered Kuai a shrug. He was outnumbered it seemed. He didn't have to be happy about it however.

"I understand your frustration," Raiden started again, firmly placing his hand on Kuai's shoulder, "but we need the information he's offered us."

"Speaking of information," Jax interrupted, seemingly trying to move the conversation on, "did you get what we need?"

Kuai managed to just about supress his rage, as he bit out "yes, it is ready for download whenever you are ready."

"Then let's get that done," Jax offered, standing from his position at the table.

Kuai's sensors alerted him to Hanzo making a sudden movement, and Kuai jerked his head towards him. Hanzo stopped dead in his tracks, looking like a deer in headlights.

"Keep him away from me," Kuai requested, his snappiness making Hanzo flinch. Jax just silently nodded, patting Kuai on the back before gently herding Kuai out of the room.

They didn't say any more as they reached a second room, this one with a reclining medical cot, wires and a lot of computers. Kuai knew the drill, settling himself down on the cot. Jax quietly logged into the computer and started sorting through the wires.

"Look," Jax finally said trying to untangle a bunch of wires, "I'm not happy about him being here either..."

"No offence but it wasn't your brother he murdered," Kuai retorted. Jax shot him a hurt look, a little note appeared in Kuai's vision chastising him for being rude. "Sorry. It's just..."

"I know, it's alright," Jax assured him, the note disappeared. "I get it." Jax finally got the cables he needed, approaching Kuai and plugging them into the ports located either side of Kuai's head. "He was asking to talk to you, though."

"Well I don't want to talk to him." Kuai closed his eyes, as he could feel Jax start the download process in the robotic part of his brain. "I don't want to hear anything he has to say."

"Yeah, I wouldn't either," Jax agreed. Kuai felt a file being pulled from his memories, he screwed his eyes tighter and clenched his fists. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Taking them out just hurts more than putting them in." Sometimes he wondered just why he'd been built in a way where such a basic function could cause him pain, but he had been a prototype. And his brother hadn't managed to complete his work before his untimely demise.

"Wish I knew enough about your cybernetics to be able to help," Jax admitted. Kuai could hear he clicking various things. "I only just know how to maintain my arms, let alone the complex shit going on with you."

"Yeah, sucks to be a new type of technology, I guess." Kuai flinched at a particularly painful jolt.

"We're almost done," Jax reassured him. "You're doing good man, way better than I'd be doing." Kuai couldn't help but laugh at that. "5 seconds left. 4. 3. 2. 1. And done!"

Kuai felt the relief immediately, and he gave a groan. His eyes flickered open, just in time to see Jax hovering over him, unplugging the wires from the sockets. Kuai rubbed his temples, running a quick scan of his vitals. Everything was running how it should be.

"Do you need me for anything else?" Kuai asked, pushing himself off the cot.

Jax shook his head, "Not right now, I'll let you know if I need you again." Jax once more patted him on the back, "try get some rest man, you look like you need it."

"Thanks, I will."

He walked back out, making his way to the meeting room to find it empty. He sighed, leaning against the table and considering what to do now. Footsteps disturbed him before he could, and he looked up, expecting to see one of his allies. Instead he was met with Hanzo, standing in the doorway and staring at him with a look that even Kuai's extensive recognition couldn't pinpoint.

"LK-52O," he started. It was amazing how something so insignificant could make Kuai feel so angry.

"My name is Kuai Liang," he retorted. Hanzo flinched again, yet another little note appeared in Kuai's vision. He elected to ignore it this time. He couldn't care less about the feelings of his brother's murderer. "What do you want?"

"I just wanted to talk to you," Hanzo tried, holding his hands up as if to show he was not a threat. Kuai didn't believe it for a second.

"What about? How you murdered my brother?" Kuai snarled, baring his teeth like an animal.

"I killed your creator-"

"No!" Kuai exclaimed, storming straight towards Hanzo, who stumbled backwards. "Don't you dare try and dictate to me what my relation to him was!" Hanzo backed up into the wall in the corridor, Kuai stood in front of him, shaking with rage. "I may be partially metal and wire but I have flesh and blood! Grown from his own, so don't you dare tell me he isn't my brother!"

"I don't understand how you can defend him," Hanzo remarked, shaking his head. "He built you to be a weapon. I did you a favour, freeing you from him."

"I am not a weapon! He didn't make me to be a weapon," Kuai countered, slamming his fist into the wall by Hanzo's head. The brick cracked from the force. "The Lin Kuei wanted me to be a weapon, not him!" Kuai felt tears rolling down his cheeks, his knuckles hurt but he was too angry to care. "You did nothing but make everything worse!"

"The Lin Kuei commission your creation, but Bi-Han was an arrogant bastard and if I hadn't killed him he would have continued to create abominations like you!" Hanzo's face dropped the second those words came from his mouth. "I- I didn't mean-"

Kuai's hand grasped Hanzo's neck, cutting him off before he could try to make a hasty apology. He choked as Kuai's hand started to squeeze down, slowly crushing his windpipe and cutting away his air supply. Kuai wasn't sure which part of the comment was spurring him on more, calling his brother an arrogant bastard or being called an abomination. His grip tightened, Hanzo gasping desperately, clutching Kuai's wrist. He knew if he didn't let go soon that Hanzo ran the risk of asphyxiation, but in a weird way that spurred him on.

A message popped up in his vision that read "if you kill him, you prove him right about you being a weapon".

Kuai gasped and released his grip, sending Hanzo tumbling to the floor, desperately gulping in air. Kuai could only stare at him in horror. He’d almost killed Hanzo. After he promised himself that he would never harm someone, never ever let himself be used as a weapon. He almost broke that promise out of anger.

Hanzo looked up at him, grasping his neck, and he croaked out, "Kuai Liang."

Kuai turned and walked away.

He didn't stop walking, even as he heard Hanzo call for him to wait. He found a dark corner under a table to crawl under and hide, curling in on himself and weeping.

It was hours before he finally reemerged. He got up, bleary eyed and kind of hungry. Glancing at the clock it was around 5 in the morning, and he was sure the majority of his companions would be asleep. He crept down to the kitchens, made himself something to eat, and made his way to the computer room.

He sat down in the seat next to the computer, turning it on and taking little time in logging on. He gathered the wires, plugging them into the ports in his head. Very carefully he navigated his files, finding the backup video files he made of his memories. He took a deep breath, and clicked the very first memory he ever had.

The screen turned black, before it parted to reveal Bi-Han's shocked face.

"Oh! Your eyes are open, that's a good sign! I think." Bi-Han lent in close, face screwed up as if he was trying to work something out. "Ah, let's start basic. Can you confirm that you hear and understand me?"

"Affirmative," Kuai's disembodied voice replied. He couldn't help but cringe at how robotic he had initially sounded.

"Okay, I suppose the human part of your brain hasn't had time to develop yet, but we'll work on that," Bi-Han cheerfully told him. "Can you confirm your designation for me?"

"LK-52O."

Bi-Han smiled at the answer and nodded, "good, that's good. Can you identify me?"

"You are Doctor Song Bi-Han. My creator."

"Oh god yes. Yes!" Bi-Han pulled back, pumping his fist and doing a strange little dance that made Kuai laugh to see. His brother often came across as very serious and stern, but it was really cute to see how excited he'd get over scientific breakthroughs. "Oh, I did it. I actually fucking did it!" Bi-Han laughed, almost like he was out of breath, "an organically grown cyborg. I can't believe I actually did it."

Bi-Han lent forward again, his smile wide. "Okay, listen to me. Your designation is LK-52O, but your name is Kuai Liang, do you understand?"

"Affirmative, I am Kuai Liang."

"And... Well, you already know my name is Bi-Han. But I don't want you to think of me as your creator." Bi-Han ran his hand through his hair. "You are my flesh and blood, you hear? We are not creator and creation, we are brothers."

"Affirmative, Bi-Han is my brother."

Bi-Han looked ready to cry. He reached a hand forward, Kuai could still remember what that very first touch felt like. He pressed his hand to his cheek to simulate that feeling.

"You and me, Kuai Liang," Bi-Han whispered, "we're going to change the world together."

"I've never seen that side of Bi-Han before."

Kuai tore the wires from his head, shutting off the video, swirling around to see Hanzo stood in the doorway. Kuai stared at him apprehensively.

"The Bi-Han I knew was a pretentious asshole."

"Yeah. He was a pretentious asshole. Arrogant, cocky and a smartass too clever for his own good." Kuai reached to grasp the fabric of his shirt, his heart hurt so much, "and he was my brother. The only family I had."

He turned away, staring at the wires. He was unique in this world, one of a kind. Sure there were lots of other cyborgs out there, but none like him. Other cyborgs had been humans who needed implants for various reasons. Kuai Liang had been born like this, his brother creating a robotic base and then using his own DNA he essentially grew the rest of Kuai Liang over it. His brain was partially robotic and partially organic, a feat believed to be impossible before Bi-Han managed to figure it out.

"Before the Lin Kuei realised my capabilities as a weapon, Bi-Han had so many plans." He blinked, warm tears rolled down his cheeks. "It could be a way to help people struggling with conception or to create family for those unable to do so naturally. A robotic human brain could have cured so many illness, saved so many people." Kuai tried to scrub his tears away. "He spent so long, trying to figure out all the kinks. Teaching me how to feel, how to balance my robotic half with my human half."

"I know there's nothing I can ever say to you that will change the pain I have caused you," Hanzo slowly started. Kuai turned to look back to him. "I had been told you're brother was using you as the template for an army... but, if that were true, why would he insist on you calling him his brother? Why would he bother teaching you to be human? That... doesn't align with what I was told."

"Who the hell told you that?" Kuai asked, hiccuping slightly from his tears.

"Quan Chi." Somehow that should have been obvious. "With this new context, things rather start to fit into place. Quan chi makes a deal with the Lin Kuei, convinces me to kill Bi-Han for the so called great good..."

"And there's no one to stop the Lin Kuei from using me as a weapon," Kuai finished. Hanzo was right, everything seemed to fit conveniently into place. "Unfortunately they did not take into account that Bi-Han would know something was up and had some favours to cash in."

"I understand why you hate me, I have no excuses."

He didn’t hate Hanzo, disliked him greatly but not quite hate. Now knowing he was given misinformation that influenced his decisions did rather change the nature of the assassination. At the same time, it did not change the hurt he had caused Kuai Liang.

"You thought you were doing the right thing with unreliable information. I can't fault you for that," Kuai sighed. "I still don't like you and I don't forgive you. But I do understand."

"I will not ask you for more than that."

"Uh, everything okay?" Jax's voice asked from behind Hanzo.

Kuai smiled gently, "Yeah, we're okay."

"Good, cause uh, somethings come up, and we need you both."

Kuai and Hanzo shared a look, but said nothing as they followed Jax back to the meeting room. Everyone was sat around the table except Raiden who was stood with a stern face.

"Ah, good. I’m glad we've found you both," Raiden started, gesturing them to come closer. "Hanzo, you mentioned earlier that Quan Chi had plans saved that prove his guilt in aiding with Shinnok's corruption."

"He does."

"And you know the passcodes for getting in and out of the building?" Raiden asked and Hanzo nodded. Kuai had a rather bad feeling about where this was going. "And as far as they are concerned, you have not betrayed them?"

"No, as far as they know, I'm infiltrating you."

"Do you think it's possible to get Kuai Liang in there to download the files?"

Kuai hissed at the question, it went exactly where he was thinking.

"I... could." Hanzo stared at Kuai, as if he was unsure that Kuai would agree to this too.

Kuai sighed, rubbing his temples, "I don't have much of a choice do I?" Raiden shot him an apologetic look.

Reluctant as he was, he knew that he was the most reliable form of data retrieval they had, and at the end of the day, Hanzo was the one with access to what they needed. Bringing down Shinnok and his corruption would bring down the Lin Kuei too. He needed to do this if he and his allies were to ever be safe in this world. He took a deep breath, swallowing his fears and uncertainty.

"Okay. What's the plan?"

[officialleehadan]

Feather Bundle

Hello darlings! Today we have something really fun in store! Our first-ever AU Crossover! 

For reference, AU stories (for any series) are their own separate cannon, and don't nessisarilly tie into either of the parent-series. They are, however, SO MUCH FUN to write!

Today's awesome prompt was brought to you by Bradford! Thank you so much for your support, and I hope you love it!

Prompt: Vree learns about angels and demons from a very familiar pair.

+++ 

Vree very much wished he had never left Ha’reet. 

Genuinely.

Deeply.

On Ha’reet, portals to who knew where were not a thing that happened.

And now Vree was in a tavern that seemed to be mostly full of humans and human-Others. At least there were some human-Others in the room, and several looked even stranger than Vree himself in this company. At least there was that.

Of course, Vree also had no idea how to get back to his ship. None of his technology seemed to be working despite his best efforts. Finally, he gave up on the tech at all, and pressed his thumb to the little white scale Lady Hoshi gave him. It glimmered under his touch, tucked safely under his arm-band, and the scent of ice surrounded him.

Help was, hopefully, on the way.

With nothing better to do, Vree eyed the tavern, tucked his tail down between his legs, and went inside to wait for rescue.

Securing a drink was somewhat more difficult, but Vree had a habit of tucking change into his pockets in case needed it, and Ha’reeti coins turned out to be as valuable wherever-he-was as they were back home.

Drink acquired, and food on the way, Vree settled down at a table to wait.

An alarmed cry and a tremble of power skated over his skin. 

Vree, driven by pure instinct finely honed by his humans and their ideas of fun, vaulted his table and dove under the counter.

A portal, very much like the one that Vree himself had fallen through, ripped open over Vree’s table.

A bundle of feathers crashed to the floor, overturning the table and raising shouts from the taverns’ patrons as they scattered away.

The ball of feathers struggled and failed until it separated into two distinct humans. They turned out to be a pair, male and female. The male’s wings were bigger, and deep black with a glimpse of white among the darkness. The female’s were pure, soft white, but the edges glinted with silver. They seemed, in all ways a comparison of opposites, dark to light reversed on each other’s skin and wings.  To Vree’s surprise, they both bore large, feathered wings that tucked in close as soon as they were detangled, but didn’t quite relax. Vree recognized the posture after a long discussion with his own Human-Liara, who had quite a lot to say about wing-language. 

They were afraid. 

“Peace,” Vree said into the waiting tavern, and set his drink aside to show them his empty hands as he got to his feet. His tail bristled, but he managed to get his ears to perk up, friendly and inquisitive, but clearly not hostile. “Can you understand me?”

“Yes,” the male human said, a step in front of his female. His black wings mantled protectively, and he eased her back behind him, eyes glinting red with magic. “Where are we? How did you summon us?”

“I didn’t,” Vree said gently and stopped when they both tensed at his approach. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” the female said, fingers clenched on the male’s arm anxiously as she looked around. Her tight curls fell in her face, and she looked close to panic. Vree could relate. “Where are we?”

“I don’t know,” Vree told her kindly, one eye on her mantling mate, who’s eyes flickered about the tavern, waiting for an attack. “Would you like to step outside?”

He vaguely remembered outdoor tables, and anything with wings like that would probably be more comfortable under open sky. 

Strange how wrangling alarmed humans made him feel right at home. 

He was relieved when they paused, and leaned in close, not speaking, but clearly easy enough together to not need words. 

“You go first,” the male decided tightly with a glare for the tavern. “If this is a trap, you won’t like what happens.”

“It’s not a trap,” Vree said soothingly, and walked slowly for the door, which was propped open to the warm breeze outside. “We may even be able to help each other.”

“I seriously doubt it. If you-“

“Blake, he means no harm,” The female cut him off before he could do more than start to mantle again, and Vree hid a smile as he showed them outside to the tables, out of sight of the door, and the odd crowd inside. Fortunately, it seemed that two feathered humans falling out of midair was not the strangest thing to grace this particular tavern. “Thank you. My name is Angelika.”

“I am pleased to meet you, Human-Angelika. My name is Vree. Ha’Reeti.” Vree said, offering his species-name as was the human custom, and bobbed his head politely. She stared at him, but didn’t comment when he turned to her mate. “May I know your name?”

He already knew it, but manners helped a great deal when putting humans at ease. And really, they couldn’t be worse than Lord and Lady Petros. 

The make hesitated and shuffled like an anxious bird, before Angelika combed her fingers through his flight-feathers gently. “Blake. You said something about not summoning us?”

Summoning. Vree vaguely remembered something about summoning magic during a discussion with Lady Hoshi, but they had gotten distracted and not come back to it. 

“I did not. I have no human-magic,” he assured them, and brightened when one of the servers appeared with his drink, and several glasses of water for them all. He waited for the server to go, this time with a few odd paper scraps from Human-Blake’s pocket and a request for drinks, before continuing. “I was also brought here by portal, although I do not understand how or why.”

“Fun,” Human-Blake muttered, and glared over his shoulder at his own wings. They flared open, and he winced. “Blast.”

“I can’t put mine away either,” Human-Angelika told him softly, and scooted over until she was tucked under one of Human-Blake’s wings, dark skin and white feathers luminous against the deep black of his own. He sighed, glared, and let her take his hand. “Vree, you called us… human?”

“Are you not?” Vree hoped they were, otherwise he had just been very, very rude. “It is considered mannerly on my ship to designate allies and crewmates with species-monikers to prevent confusion. Most humans I have met also presented their Other-heritage upon introduction.”

“Huh,” Human-Blake muttered. “Angel, we are not in Kansas anymore.”

“I noticed,” Human-Angelika murmured back to him, and offered the server a gentle smile when he returned with their drinks. “Vree, I don’t suppose… you said Other-heritage? What is that?”

“Non-human Earth species,” Vree translated easily, and blessed lessons with Human-Amir and Human-Nerea on etiquette. “Please forgive my assumption, but most humans do not have feathered wings. Or indeed, wings of any kind.”

They had another of those wordless conversations, foreheads close together and wings nearly tangled. 

“I’m not human,” Human-Angelika said at last once they came to some sort of decision. “I’m an angel. Blake is a demon.”

“My apologies, Angel-Angelika,” Vree accepted the correction, and pulled out his notepad on instinct to scribble down the terms to ask his humans about later. “As to our plight here, I do have assistance coming, and Lady Hoshi may well be able to answer your questions. She is a dragon, and is very wise.”

“She’s a what?” Demon-Blake lunged out of his seat, wings flared wide. Angel-Angelika caught his hand before he could get far, and he stared down at her, before relenting at her gentle pull. “Dragons aren’t supposed to exist!”

“Lady Hoshi definitely exists,” Vree offered, and caught himself holding onto the tip of his tail, a cub-fidget he thought he had broken himself of years ago. “And she is kind. If anyone is able to get us back where we belong, it will be her.”

“You’re pretty confident for someone who got dropped through a portal into God-knows-where,” Demon-Blake said rebelliously, but gave in when Angel-Angelika pulled him back to sit next to her. “So. Portals.”

“I truly wish this was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me,” Vree admitted with a very resigned sigh and a weary thought over the rest of his life. “But unfortunately, this event, although alarming, has not made the top ten, and so far, does not seem likely to do so.”

“Even finding about angels and demons?” Angel-Angelika asked as if it were an oddity he ought to note. She pushed her tight curls back over her scarf and gave him a sweet smile. “You’re very brave.”

“Dragons were worse,” Vree mumbled into his drink as he took a bracing sip. “I don’t even want to think about djinn, and I’m going to have to do a paper on the Fae soon and I suspect they’re as bad as the dragons. So unless you’re worse than all of them….”

They were staring. Vree morosely took another sip and resolutely did not think about the convention in six months, nor the pile of invitations on his desk.

“I think we might need more information,” Angel-Angelika told him after a long while and a gentle request to the server for food, accompanied by more of what Vree thought was probably some sort of money. “So how about we trade you? Since you don’t know anything about us, and we don’t know anything about you, I mean.”

Information. Vree liked information. Information didn’t always make thing less complicated, but it definitely made it easier to figure out what was going on. Before he could reply, a gust of ice-scented air wrapped around him, and he sighed in relieved. “Lady Hoshi.”

“Vree?” Lady Hoshi’s voice rippled through the snow that glittered down from the cloudless sky. The snowflakes whirled and turned into a ghostly image of the dragon herself. “It will take me a few hours to make a portal. Are you safe?”

“Perfectly safe, thank you,” Vree said respectfully as his companions gaped at him, expressions of mingled wonder and alarm. “I believe there may be an instability of some kind. My companions are also from… elsewhere.”

“An angel,” Lady Hoshi said softly, snow catching in Angel-Angelika’s hair and on Demon-Blake’s black feathers. “And a demon. How interesting. Very well. I will give it my attention. Stay safe, dear Vree.”

And then she was gone, snow fading away without a trace, and Vree allowed himself a smile. If she had found him, she would also find a way to return him safely home.

Demon-Blake seemed to be muttering profanity. Angel-Angelika was finger-grooming his hair as he hid his face in her wings. 

“Since it seems we have some time,” Vree offered tentatively when they seemed calm again. “Would you tell me what angels and demons are? I admit, I have never heard of your Other-heritage before.”

Angel-Angelika opened her mouth, but another portal suddenly ripped through the air, and a black cat, covered in odd red spines, and sporting a torn ear, the mark of a long-healed fight, dropped through, already hissing. It sported small white patches under the chin and at the base of both ears, and glared balefully at Vree with red-glowing eyes.

“Sproot!” Angel-Angelika cried, and gathered the hissing cat into her arms, heedless of both spines and hissing. The cat immediately went from growling to purring as it nuzzled up under her chin. What happened? Is everyone aright?”

The cat purred louder and butted Demon-Blake’s hand when he reached out to scratch at the white spits, leaving a trail of silver hairs in his wake. The cat chirped up at them, and they nodded along as if it was truly speaking. Finally, it settled into Angel-Angelika’s arms, no longer covered in spines, but still watchful.

Vree tried not to stare. Staring was usually impolite.

“Sproot is another demon, a little like Blake,” Angel-Angelika said when the silence became uncomfortable. “We have help coming too, but it will take a while.”

“As you say,” Vree said, and tentatively offered his fingers to the cat. Lady Hoshi had several cats in her home, and had taught him the proper way to greet them. “Hello Demon-Sproot. I am Vree. Angel-Angelika, since it seems some time, would you still be willing to tell me of angels and demons? It seems there is a hole in my knowledge, and I would very much like to learn from you before Lady Hoshi brings me home.”

Angel-Angelika smiled, and stroked her fingers through Demon-Sproot’s fur, making the cat purr even louder with each pass. Demon-Blake unbent enough to lean over and press his face into the soft black fur with a soft croak that sounded fond. 

“Only if you tell us your story as well,” Angel-Angelika said with a wry smile and a glance at the sky. “After all, it’s hardly an adventure without a good tale to share when you get home.”

+++

More Stories!

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[askroahmmythril]

Reference List for amiibo Fighter Names (Set 1)

A supplementary post for the amiibo card art I recently posted over on Twitter, here’s a listing of all their names, and where they came from.  Order will be the same as the order they were posted in.  Going to stick to 12 entries per list because otherwise hoo boy this would get ridiculous for a single post. :

1) Bayonetta : Lunatic - This is a Touhou reference, Lunatic being the name of the (usually) highest difficulty setting.  Given luna is associated with the moon, as is Bayonetta herself, putting the bullet witch in a bullet hell game seemed fitting.  Given Bayonetta 1 even had a shooting minigame, Angel Attack, it seemed to work all the more perfectly.  Basically the full setup of this card is designed to look like a Touhou game being played, with Bayonetta appearing in full as a “spell card” image.

2) Bowser Jr. : Steam-Punk - When it comes to more recent Mario games, when Jr. decides to confront you, more often than not it’s with various machines and mechs.  Thus, I thought of him with an inventor style, and went with one of my favorite aesthetics, steampunk.  The fact that he is kind of a punk little brat works quite well.  Some of the overall look of this card was inspired by the fact that I was playing the Bioshock games while drawing this, which Neo made a more solid reference to it on his version, putting in an Andrew Ryan quote.  I also snuck a reference to Tinker Knight’s mech from Shovel Knight in the background.

3) Bowser : King Dad - Nintendo has gone out of their way to portray as Bowser, for all his faults, as being a good dad for his son, and I love that interpretation.  Furthering this, there’s the fact that the Koopalings in the old Mario cartoons from the 80′s - 90′s tended to refer to him as King Dad, hence the name.  I wanted to go with sort of an old era sitcom look for him, the family dad sitting with his pipe and newspaper.  I thus also wanted to give the frame an old timey TV look.  This one was drawn by me in the period before Neo suggested we try using character specific icons in all the nameplates, so he added a Bowser insignia to the channel knob.

4) Captain Falcon : DJFalcon - This is a play on Captain Falcon’s canonical name (at least, the name for one version of him, since I guess according to lore Captain Falcon is less a single person and more a title...?  F-Zero canon is tricky to follow sometimes.  Doesn’t help that the Cap has been cloned a number of times).  Falcon’s full name is Douglas Jay Falcon, thus shortening it, DJ Falcon.  He wants to see your moves!  Your DANCE moves!  Not much else to say on this one, except a bit of behind the scenes info : I was most of the way through drawing this one when we had a power out.  GUESS WHO HADN’T SAVED THE FILE FOR A LONG TIME!

5) Charizard : NotADragon - The eternal Pokémon joke of Charizard, one of the most dragonny looking Pokémon, not ACTUALLY being a Dragon type (unless you count his Mega Evolution I guess, but still, the point stands).  Neo made the point even more, including Goomy in the image, a major case of “How is THIS a dragon, but THIS ISN’T?!”  Not too much else to say on this one, though Neo did throw in a Pokémon Snap reference on his version, having the Dugtrio mountain in the background.  Nice touch, that.

6) Cloud : Smash Star - This was a suggestion from Neo actually, we joked about how FF was such a “Sony” franchise that it seemed funny Cloud got invited to Smash, rather than Playstation All-Stars Battle Royale.  So we went with that idea, using stage elements from the last stage of the game, and using three of my favorite characters from it in the background : Sackboy, Sly Cooper, and PaRappa the Rapper.  Would have also included Ratchet & Clank, but didn’t want to overcrowd the background.

7) Dark Pit : FaceMyself - This one’s a Persona 4 reference.  As the game often states, “I am a Shadow, the true self!”  With Dark Pit basically being Pit’s “Shadow” from within the mirror, I couldn’t help going with this reference.  I greatly enjoyed Persona 4, so had a fun time drawing this one.  The back of his card is meant to be the back of one of those Kid Icarus Uprising AR cards.  Neo also added some Persona 4 imagery to the stack of TVs.  The roman numeral on the card in his nameplate, XXXIX, is 39, the release number of his amiibo.

8) Diddy Kong : Nerfed Gun - A bit of a meta joke, this one.  Diddy was seen as one of the most broken characters in Brawl, but in Smash 4, he got nerfed pretty hard.  So the idea of Diddy looking nervous, his weapons having been replaced with harmless Nerf equivalents, amused me way too much.  This one might be a little outdated though, as I’m fairly sure he got buffed a bit in Ultimate.

9) Donkey Kong : Sunwu Kong - A reference to the character from Journey to the West.  Sun Wukong, the monkey king, has been reference in a lot of media.  Heck, even Buster Rod G from Mega Man : The Wily Wars is based on him.  The specific version I reference with DK’s outfit here was Sun Wukong’s appearance in the Warriors Orochi series.  DK faces are really fun to draw.

10) Dr. Mario : The Doctor - A reference to Doctor Who, a show I... really need to watch more of.  The idea of it fascinates me.  I styled the viruses after various baddies from the show, the red virus being a Dalek, the yellow, a Weeping Angel, and the blue, the Half Face Man.  Mario himself is wearing the long scarf worn by the Fourth Doctor, played by Tom Baker.  I just always really liked how that scarf looked.

11) Duck Hunt : Quackshot - Pure and simple, just a pun name on the term “Crackshot.”  Only a duck is involved.  So Quackshot.  I want to say there was a Donald Duck game that also had this as the title, but that’s purely coincidental, wasn’t specifically referencing it.  I put some Target Test targets in the back to go with the theme.  Man, I do miss Target Test mode, especially the Melee variation, but these days, I can see the issue with having a personalized Target Test for every character.  I’d still love it though, haha.

12) Falco : Hyperdrive - I had trouble coming up with an idea for Falco, so I got to thinking about space travel type stuff since he loves flight.  Then I ended up with the idea that he’s a falcon (at least his name would lead you to believe so), and Star Wars had the Millennium Falcon, so the idea just sort of took off from there.  I tried to go with the style of how the stars sort of look like they “stretch” in preparation for the jump to Hyperspace.

[kenkamishiro]

Ishida Sui’s Review of 2019

I didn’t think I’d ever finish this with my onslaught of classes including pharmacology, but I somehow managed! 6k word count, the longest TL I’ve done to date besides Parvati’s interlude for FGO. Lots of insight into Jack Jeanne’s production and what Ishida’s been up to for the past year. It was tough to translate because it was so long, but I had a lot of fun.

Let me know if there are any mistakes, I’m sure there’s a whole bunch. Have fun reading!

Original can be found here.

＊＊＊

2019. I’m reflecting on this past year while flipping through my agenda. Since I’m writing this for my sake, there’s going to be a lot of sections without much explanation.

January

○ This was when Jack Jeanne had yet to be announced, so I was mostly doing preliminary work at the time. Stuff like “BU” and “character facial expressions” will be finished some time this month, is written in my schedule book.

○ New Year’s party in Tokyo from the 16th - 19th. The New Year’s party is a joint party that’s comprised of the 4th editorial department (Shueisha’s seinen magazine branch) that’s held every year in January. I attended the party with the staff every year during serialization, minus my first year.

2019 will be the first New Year’s party since the series ended, but I thought I should stop inviting the staff to attend since we’re not working together anymore (plus it’d be a hassle), so I didn’t really invite anyone. But the day before the event, Editor M brought up the topic inside the taxi and asked, “Are none of the staff coming this year?” (Even if they’re invited now, it’s going to be impossible, asking them to fly the next day and causing a ruckus…) When I replied, “Hey, I’m sure it’d be fun if you invited them and they all came~”, the editor contacted Goubaru-kun, and after said, “He said he’s going.” Guess he wasn’t busy. In the end, the staff during serialization and several people from OB and OG came, almost identical to the lineup from previous years, and it occurred to me that maybe I should have just invited them from the start.

Anyway, at this year’s New Year’s party, I don’t really remember much of what happened. I talked with my senpais from back when I was an assistant for Kingdom, and outside the venue I sobered up from the agoraphobic dizziness I was feeling inside. At the second party I remember people talking to me haphazardly and being photographed. I wish I’d refused. Also, I was sexually harassed by Rikudou Matsubara, my senpai from the same region as me. This New Year’s party will be my last.

February

Briefing session for the game held in Tokyo. Key visual created. It says here [on the agenda] that I want to go to Kagoshima. Every week there’s a checklist for 10 km of jogging and weight training 2-3 times a week. I spent about a week doing some composition work. It ended up being helpful for me, but it made me decide not to work anymore with people with different levels of interest from me.

○ TRPG is written for the 28th. Usually we use the DX (Double Cross) system, but this time one of our participating players, M’s schedule was under mysterious attack. As game master, taking consideration of everyone who’d made time in their schedules for tonight, I thought we could switch to Cthulhu and asked them to wait an hour. 2 hours later I finished coming up with a scenario and began the session. It was fairly fun.

March

Finish BU this month, is clearly noted down. BU stands for bust-up, which are drawings of characters in standing poses [sprites] that are common in ADV games. Normally, since it takes a huge amount of work, the BU work is always divided up. The original drawings are done by the illustrator, in this case I do the base illustrations (line drawing & colouring), and using them as the base, the department sharing the work cleans up the line drawings and recolours it...that’s how the process goes. But since I’m a mangaka and don’t have the technology needed to make gaming assets, I thought it’d be best to leave it to the pros in that field, so that was how that stage proceeded. At that point in time at least.

I also had plans written down to go to Kagoshima. Looks like I didn’t go.

○ TRPG on the 25th. Player M’s schedule lined up with ours, so we played DX with 6 PL plus me as GM. We went to the aquarium, were attacked by witches, and so on.

April

Finish BU, is faintly written down. It seems like the work was more or less completed earlier this month.

○ High school friend K’s wedding on the 6th. Up until then I’d only been to two other wedding receptions. The weddings were for a different friend from high school, and Tajika-san, one of my senpais from Kingdom. This suddenly reminds me of that time at Tajika-san’s reception, when I took a super early flight because I absolutely didn’t want to be late whatsoever, but I ended up not being able to fly for about an hour and a half because of engine trouble or whatever, so I entered at almost the same time as the bride and groom during the reception…

K’s wedding was the first time in my life where I was present all the way from the wedding to the reception, but how should I put it, I was struck by a beam of light. I don’t know who he’s getting married to, I have no clue what their relationship is like. But I was somehow bombarded...by all these thoughts that became jumbled in my head, like the energy in this place, the power of their oaths, questioning what it was, how light isn’t always justice.

I got the feeling that this was what proper, respectable humans take part in, but since I'm fine with not being a proper, respectable human, I decided to not do anything other than what my heart desires.

I'm definitely not good with places where I’m in the spotlight. But congratulations.

○ “Play Sekiro” is strongly noted down. Thank you for supporting me in the first half of 2019.

○ TRPG for the 29th - 30th. DX. Player M’s character dies.

May - June

My schedule book is starting to look more scattered now. On the other hand, since I’ve got a good memory of this time, I can write while recalling the events.

○ I did the covers for the Touken stage play book.

I drew the cover illustrations for the Touken [Ranbu] stage play that Mikasano-san, who I’m grateful to for his work on the anime and movie scripts for TG, worked on. In my mind, it feels like I'm watching the back of who I'd consider my older brother in the creative world, or a fellow comrade on another battlefield fighting to the death. I think it came out quite charmingly, so I’ll include the links for now. Link 1 | Link 2 | Link 3

During this time of work for Jack Jeanne, I was working on “model sheets”. Blueprints for the characters’ attire, not just from the front but also the internal structure.

Unlike most other games, Jack Jeanne has “performance costumes” in addition to normal attire. Because of its “revue” theme, costumes that will be worn onstage needed to be prepared. I was shocked when I suddenly admitted that I needed model sheets for 5 different performances (spring, summer, fall, winter, final) for the 6 main characters, making 30 designs in total.

Back in the TG era, these kind of drawings that I just explained, or drawings that needed a lot of layers, were a pain in the ass. Plus I wasn’t good at them, so I thought that I didn’t want to do it for the rest of my life if possible. But it seems like I have to do this myself. With a sense of determination, I decided to work solely on this for all of May. At the same time, I made nothing but curry for all my meals. There’s no deep reason behind it, but my aim was to kinda boost my ability to concentrate daily by choosing to be decisive in that action.

○ Working on model sheets It came with an unintended effect. Because I spent a month on work that required balance and consistency, my right-left checking skills got better, and completely unrelated, I improved in drawing perfect copies. The design work for the model sheets itself became really fun to do, starting around when I became obsessed with the scarf design (sumo wrestler drawing) I definitely couldn’t use for Neji’s summer costume. I discovered that it’s precisely because I’m not good at this that my labour bore fruit. I feel like this was my experience for the latter half of the year.

July

The cast members were chosen. Unlike TG, there are 6 people + 1 person who can be referred to as the main character, so it was interesting to have a cast with some breadth.

Seems like lyrical work was the main thing I worked on.

Lyrical work. In Jack Jeanne, each performance contains several songs to sing and dance to, so each one is supposed to be sung. ...hence the lyrics.

The topic of what to do with the lyrics was brought up in November 2018. What happens typically is that, let’s say there’s singing in an idol game, then a company that specializes in it is asked to produce the songs. Even for Jack Jeanne, there were several candidates I could pick and choose from. But after a quick look-through, frankly speaking, they all looked the same to me. There’s one person that’s good, it’d be great if we could get them...is what I thought, but, “Even though I don’t have the skills, I’m the one who understands this world the best,” crossed my mind. ...should I try? I tried it. To be honest, I was super embarrassed since it’d be seen by a lot of people, but it evolved into, “Who cares if you’re doing it?” And so Jack Jeanne’s lyrics were tasked to me.

I mentioned this earlier, but there are multiple songs for each performance. So if you combine those plus the opening and ending songs, that makes 17 songs in total. Lyrics for 17 songs that I’m fully responsible for. What the hell...am I doing? Maybe it was from that moment that I started losing it.

Including the lyrics that I’d been working on bit by bit every month, the remaining ones were finished in one go this July. By the time I finished everything, my current state was, “Give me more songs...let me write more lyrics!” But it wasn’t over just yet.

August

Every time I meet someone I tell this story. I’m thinking of keeping it up. Here I am, relieved to have finished the lyrics, when a message pops up on the Skype group chat. It’s from Yamashita Daisuke of Broccoli.

To briefly touch upon Yamashita Daisuke, he is a young man who’s been involved with this project since October of 2018, and a poor soul who was tasked with conducting very important meetings on his third day of working at the company.

The producer from Broccoli was going on maternity leave, so he was scouted as her replacement. As an aside, if I have to be honest, the exchanges between me and Towada-san, and Broccoli’s Jack Jeanne team up until then were quite frustrating. “How about doing it like this?” they would counter. And we’d respond with something like, “This part is going to be developed later on, and since this will become foreshadowing for the entirety of the story, it can’t be modified that easily.” This kind of situation, having to explain everything in detail one by one, going 3 steps forward and being held 2 steps back, had been going on for about 3 years, so the two of us would often whine about it over drinks, going, “When should we quit, this is ridiculous,” etc.

Finally when things began going more smoothly, the producer who was leading the project took her leave, so I wondered if we’d be able to get along with Yamashita Daisuke, but he was, how should I put it, very diligent. For the last year I've been working with people who don’t put in their best effort, so I was very hopeful and thankful to him.

But I digress. This was the gist of the message that Daisuke sent.

“Kosemura-san’s who’s in charge of musical composition wants ‘scratch vocal tracks’ for when the singers are recording.” “Does Ishida-sensei happen to know anyone he could ask for this favour?” “I’m sure it won’t be a problem for you!” “Frankly speaking, it’s okay even if they’re bad.”

Huh. Well, as you might have already guessed, even with the lyrics, it’s impossible to really understand the song at first sight without knowing what kind of rhythm, what kind of emotions are being expressed in the bar measure. Of course we’d need ‘scratch vocal tracks’ to explain the general feeling of the song.

Now, what Daisuke said was, “Do you have anyone you can ask? It’s okay even if they’re bad. Or even you can do it.” But if I found a “it’s okay even if they’re bad” kind of person, we’d still have to show them how to sing it and explain how the rhythm goes. Daisuke already knew which was probably why he asked for the favour. “The person writing the lyrics would be able to make the scratch vocal tracks the fastest.” ...come to think of it, the demo songs that Kunimitsu sent me every time that were sung using Vocaloid, weren’t they also scratch vocal tracks?

Daisuke must have been in a pinch trying to figure out how he should ask me candidly. Ishida-sensei, I couldn’t just ask you to sing it, so I had to ask in a roundabout manner.

I’d already given my answer, but I was still hesitant. It’s true that after I finished writing the lyrics for the 17 songs I’d already lost sight of myself, but if I sang, my singing would reach Broccoli and Kosemura-san’s team’s ears. But I couldn’t just leave poor Daisuke hanging.

So I consult Towada-shi, whom I’d been collaborating with in creating the scripts for Jack Jeanne, for advice. (He had been in charge of TG’s novels, and I’ve known him for a long time.) “Did you check Skype?” “I did.” “What do you think?” “Start by looking up scratch vocal tracks,” so we paid a visit to YouTube. The first search result that came up for ‘scratch vocal track’ was a video of a vocalist who was used to sing a scratch track for AKB or something. I see, so that’s what it looks like. Innocuous, but I could see it was very professionally done.

And the second result that came up was Tsunku♂-shi. The figure of Tsunku♂-shi himself recording a scratch track for his idols. The producer himself became an idol, and was singing really cutely, in his emotions and how he sang it. “This is it?” I said. “Yeah, it is,” Towada-shi agreed. If Kosemura-san and his team, and the people who will be performing the songs have to listen to it, it’d be a disservice to them to half-ass it. I don’t like people who don’t try their best. That means I have to show that attitude myself. Let’s come out of my shell for poor Daisuke as well.

“You’re gonna become Tsunku♂.” “Yeah...I’m gonna be Tsunku♂!” And that was how I became Tsunku♂.

I replied to Daisuke on the Skype group chat. “Understood, I’ll do what I can.”

So this guy, who doesn’t even know what the ‘D’ in DTM stands for, first downloads the software, and begins setting up a recording environment. Other work is pushed aside. I set 3 days to work on this.

I timidly begin working on the scratch tracks. From the perspective of someone who doesn’t have to listen to their singing for a living, it starts out as a living hell, but you get used to it as you listen to it over and over.

And so I kept learning new things. I noticed I was harmonizing with myself.

Just like Tsunku♂-shi, I’d change the voice for each character. If it was Jack (male in a male role) I’d sing like a man, and if it was Jeanne (male in a female role), then like a woman, while the main character Kisa (female) should sound cute... No, Kisa needs to be cuter! I re-recorded her part many times. Depending on the song, I’d sing for 7 people. I was Jack Jeanne now.

Tsunku♂ (I) recorded 17 songs in 3 days, and sent the data first to Towada-shi. Since I was now Tsunku♂, I no longer felt any sense of embarrassment.

“I listened to it,” the reply came, and I called him. Towada-shi was roaring with laughter. I regained the embarrassment I’d forgotten.

“Oh no, I was laughing ‘cause I was impressed,” he said, but my heart was already as fragile as that of an abandoned dog.

“Even this is a big help to Kosemura-san, and Daisuke should be grateful, right?” Yeah. Although Towada-shi guffawed at me, Daisuke will surely thank me. And then he’ll definitely tell me what a good job I did!

I dumped the music into the Skype group chat. “I did what I could,” I added.

How will Daisuke react to my Tsunku♂? I waited restlessly. Three days later on August 5th, a formal message arrived after it was received.

“Thank you very much. We will schedule a meeting with Kosemura-san…”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. My hard work got dismissed with, “Thank you very much.”

Daisuke, why? I thought you were in a pinch, so I...were...were you fooling with me from the start? Answer me! Daisuke! Just tell me I did a good job, or follow up with something, I’m fine with anything! So much for my heart being like an abandoned dog, it’s more like a grown-ass man left naked on a snowy mountain. I did what I could! This feeling was welling up inside me, but was it myself that managed to do it?

○ Later, at a meeting with Kosemura-san “It’s great that you could do this much for us. You didn’t have to do all that.” With the gist of those words, a warm blanket was finally placed over my heart, which had almost frozen to death.

“I didn’t know how to respond. I wasn’t sure if Sensei was the most who did it in the first place,” Daisuke said, so I decided to satisfy myself by threatening, “I’m gonna tell this story until the day I die.”

September

○ Responses to the Questions to Ishida Sui contest We did a “Ask anything to Ishida Sui” contest as a project for the art book “zakki:re”, where purchasers could apply with a postcard. I was writing the replies for them.

I thought there’d be a lot more questions about TG or its contents, but surprisingly there were a lot of questions asking for life advice. There were quite a few questions that I had to seriously think about to answer.

It was kinda tough since there were over a hundred of them, but I thought it’d be nice to get in touch like this every once in a while.

○ BU work for Jack Jeanne Once the music-related tasks like lyrical composition and scratch vocal tracks were completed, I worked on BU. ...BU work? Wasn’t it finished back in April?

Well, a similar situation arose just like what happened with the lyrics. Regarding sprite quality I might not be able to beat the pros, but since I’m the one who best understands how the characters look best and their body balance, I had decided to do all the line drawing colouring myself in June. I had no clue whether I’d make the deadline or maintain the quality, but thanks to Broccoli’s understanding, I was allowed to make it myself.

I realized once again that I’m terrible at splitting up work. If I can do it by myself, I will.

Plus, it’s, how should I put it, starting from my TG days, even though it wasn’t a lot I got to see various types of workplaces. I’d see places where there was no sense of responsibility whatsoever, or the work may have been divvied up appropriately, but it felt like they were making something without a sense of purpose, like a main plot line that isn’t going anywhere.

It’s impossible to accomplish big things with that kind of stance, and I understand that the more people that intervene, the more uncertain the core becomes, so I didn’t like that kind of approach. It makes me wonder whether there’s any meaning in creating a work that’s conservative and unchallenged, and if it’s nothing more than a money grab.

Since I don’t have any desire for material things, getting fed up about it is useless, but I just can’t help thinking about it.

Of course, it may be difficult to get what I want 100% of the time, but I want to create things in an environment that I think is beautiful, even in places that I’m slightly involved in.

...in other words, BU work is tough, but I began remaking the sprites once again by myself. This was the toughest work I’ve ever done out of everything, including the serialization...

○ Scratch vocals training camp at the end of September I went to the recording for the scratch vocal tracks. Based on the scratch tracks that I made, we got professional vocalists to sing it again properly. This is what the actual cast would use as a reference to sing. (So my version was like the pre-scratch vocal track.)

I was stuck in Tokyo for almost a week. Wake up, get ready, go to the recording studio. Come back at 8 or 9 pm, rest and sleep, repeat.

It was like I was back in school, and since I don’t have a steady lifestyle, I enjoyed it.

Kosemura-san’s team is really great, and I know I mentioned this before, but I felt like their workplace was a very healthy production site. When I was drawing manga, I never had much time to talk with fellow manga artists, and I’ve never had the chance to experience what other professionals’ workplaces were like, so it was very exciting for me to see people as professionals tackle one thing seriously. The vocalists were as amazing as I expected, and although my scratch tracks were played at a loud volume to annoy me, I had a great time.

The game might have a high level of entry, but it’s worth listening to just for the songs, is what I truly thought.

○ Parting words to Editor M-shi This might have been back in August, but from 2018 to 2019 I had a lot of things on my mind, so I began talking to the editor.

In between the 11 years of serialization starting from my rookie days, I’d received guidance from him so it wasn’t easy, but I expressed to him that we should keep our distance for any future works.

“I want to become absorbed in myself, not to Ishida Sui or Tokyo Ghoul,” I told him. The other part said he also felt the same way, and accepted it. The next time we meet, I hope we can talk about what we’re into, what we’re going crazy over, he said.

And so, 2 months after that conversation was the scratch vocals training camp in Tokyo, and I had the chance for the two of us to talk again. That day I was completely tuckered out from recording the scratch track, but it was a day filled with accomplishments.

He took me to a restaurant with delicious food in Ebisu or somewhere, and after concluding our brief business meeting, I tried throwing out the cliched, “So, what are you up to lately?” As the lead writer, there was a part of me that was curious about how he was doing after that talk we had.

The editor began talking about homemade curry.

...that’s what he’s into? I decide everything from selecting and picking the ingredients myself, and next time I want Ishida-kun to also see how delicious the curry is...he told me passionately, but how should I put it, the conversation wasn’t very spicy.

The food was delicious.

October

○ BU work

What’s hard about BU work is that it’s difficult to separate the layers according to the face, hair and clothes, and they all have to have the same style and touch to it. If it was manga, then maybe...no, even in manga, there’s still some need to match the outfits, but it doesn’t really matter to that extent.

It’s because I don’t like game sprites. “This character has so much energy from their sideways pose! Amazing!” This never happens…

Around this time of the year, my older sister called this elaborate task, “the task you’re probably the worst at.”

○ The bean life I’m not really fat in particular, but I made up my mind to try dieting. At the time, my body fat percentage was at 18%, and I’ve never been below 10% ever in my entire life, so I’m thinking of aiming for that. Instead of eating rice with unseasoned chickpeas and black soybeans, I began my lifestyle of consuming vegetables and cuts of meat with less fat. Hopefully I can achieve my goal in about six months’ time.

○ Ano-chan, Honda Keisuke, and I After Ano-chan left “You’ll Melt More!”, her official Twitter account removed every single account she was following, but for some reason only two people remained. Those two people were Honda Keisuke and Ishida Sui. To Ano-chan, Honda Keisuke and Ishida Sui belonged in the same category. After some time passed, even we were removed, but I consider this one of my hottest mysteries of 2019. Ano-chan! I’ll always be waiting, so let’s have tea some time with Honda Keisuke!

November

○ BU Need I say more.

○ Main cast’s first recording session from the 26th - 27th.

I visited Tokyo with Towada-shi to supervise the main cast members’ recording session. Wow, everyone was so amazing~

Of course, not just the main characters. Terasaki Yuka-san who plays the main character, Tachibana Kisa, was wonderful as well.

In this kind of game genre, the position as the main character feels less important than the male characters, but I want her to stand firmly in this story’s script. I thought it’d be nice to have the main character not stand out too much and have her watch over the male characters, and I felt that Terasaki-san’s voice and acting fit that image perfectly.

About the cast members, it seems like there’ll be a chance to speak to them eventually, so I’ll come back again.

○ 1 month into the bean life I’m steadily losing weight. Basically I always work from home. I go to the gym and supermarket 2-3 times a week. I started cooking for myself. I got a brand new refrigerator to replace the one that suddenly broke. It actually cools things down now. Living standards have risen.

December

○ I break off ties with M who I played TRPG together with. He was a former classmate who was even chief assistant at some point during the series’ run, but eventually he ended up getting fired due to falling asleep at work. He said he’d attend the last session for the story that day (although his own character had already died), and I was working on a schedule to accommodate him, but once again he cancelled at the last minute.

It’s fine to cause trouble for me (although I’ll probably get pissed), but I can’t overlook treating others the same way. And it’s not the fact that his schedule didn’t match up, it’s because he was complete trash who didn’t know how to behave like an adult once he made plans with others, that I felt sorry for the other TRPG people who took time out of their schedules. Since I felt ashamed when I was together with him, I decided I’d had enough.

This was a year where I cut ties with a lot of people, but I think what they had in common was that I was ashamed to be with them. From now on, I don’t want to associate with such people.

What’s more, when I finally told him, he didn’t even try to deal with it and just gave up, responding, “So that’s how you felt about me. Okay. My bad.”

I won’t go anywhere with those kind of people again.

○ The bean life ⇒ the potato life. I changed it to potatoes.

○ BU is over...

On December 17th, I finally finished the BU work that I spent ageeeeeeeees on.

Although I said that serialization is tough, as long as I finished 18 pages a week that was it (although there were times where I was chasing myself with other work), so I could finish it as long as I didn’t sleep. I somehow managed to finish both the manuscripts and the colour illustrations this way, so expecting BU to be similar, I wasn’t really scared about it never ending, but BU truly was despair. When is this gonna end? I’m even working super hard… This is how it went on the entire time for over a month.

There were about 200 different sprites I had to make myself, including the different costumes and poses, and I had to do all of them.

For one thing, when, “This process is necessary,” came out, I had to go through the same process roughly 200 times, that it felt like I was facing the final boss who already transformed many times. Also, it’s like not equipping myself with a lot of equipment and recovery items in the previous town, but the dungeon I somehow managed to enter is extremely dangerous and even though there’s no safe points anywhere in sight, the boss suddenly comes up behind you, and you go I’m gonna die I’m gonna die

○ If you eat a lot while you’re losing weight, you’re going to have a bad time.

On December 15th I had trouble concentrating, so I tidied up the living room, created a space in the middle of the room, and darkened the lights. After an hour of meditating, only the sound of my breathing could be heard in the room, and so I went back to work with renewed concentration after confronting the issue (like a monk?).

On December 16th, I’ve been working the entire time since morning. I thought today was going to be the last day, but an entire day has passed and I don’t have any energy...

I’ll buy a midnight snack, replenish my energy, and end it once and for all. I’m trying to lose weight, but I went to the convenience store while thinking about how I’m gonna eat a katsu sandwich (I didn’t have the energy to cook).

While looking for something at a convenience store I can eat during weight loss, I think back over the last few months.

Like how it seems like BU is finally over, how a lot of things have happened, how I’m working hard, how lately I’ve been eating only potatoes, vegetables and meat.

And then I suddenly thought, “I wonder if the reason I don’t have any energy is because I haven’t had any rice lately.”

...I thought I should go on a diet in October, so I’ve been living a very modest life since then. Thanks to that, my weight has steadily decreased, and my body fat percentage has gone down 3% to 15%. What will happen if I continue with my relatively strict dietary restrictions during this difficult time?

...even if you’re losing weight, there’s a technique you can set up to binge eat during periods where weight loss stagnates, called cheat day (though results may vary), but what is it that makes no-cheating so inefficient even for weight loss?

...should I have a cheat day today?

“Huh, is it really okay?” I asked my mind. “Do it!” was the answer I got. From that moment, everything around me morphed into things I could eat.

No exaggeration, my knees trembled.

I crammed into my shopping basket carbohydrates, carbs, more carbs… It’s okay just for today, I say as I shove cream puffs, dorayaki, pudding, Family Mart chicken and ice cream. (Even if it's a cheat day, it’s probably not a good idea to take non-nutritional foods, but shh.)

With food in both hands and in high spirits, the first thing I ate was the delicious part of the Family Mart chicken.

I groaned loudly, all alone in the room.

Alright, let’s finish this work! I was energized, but my blood sugar levels spiked so much that I felt extremely sleepy and went to bed instead.

The next day on the 17th, I wake up at 4 am and immediately notice something unusual. My body is burning. I’m sweating.

I immediately wake up, and overflowing with energy, I head for my desk. I’m working actively, and I finish the BU work. It felt like I was pushing forward with only positive energy, feeling uplifted.

I break out a laugh at a slight joke I found funny from a foreign drama (The Mentalist) I’m playing while working. The greenery of the plants and the lighted sink glisten, and the scenery is vivid.

What is this?

I suddenly recall the story of a YouTuber I saw recently. He lives in a region where medical marijuana is legalized, and he explained in detail what changes would occur if you smoked cannabis.

To put it roughly, you feel calm and your senses sharpen. Trivial things can become funny, and funny videos can make you roar with laughter.

Then maybe...I thought, I'll watch Nagareboshi (a comedy duo) on YouTube. Usually I go, haha, that's funny! But that day I exploded with laughter...all of their videos were just too funny.

I learned that when you’re losing weight and suddenly eat a lot, it alters your mind and body as if you smoked cannabis. (※ Just to be clear, I don’t know what cannabis is like.)

Thus the BU work ended with me being high as a kite.

(※ I’m covering it with mosaics for now. I’ll remove it once I can announce it.)

○ I stopped playing TRPGs. I’ve been doing it for about two and a half years, but it also helped me in honing my creative skills. I’d sometimes perform, so it was useful when I was recording the scratch vocals… It was a good experience, managing to vicariously live the energy of ending a story. It was a story about a group of friends, so it was easy to appreciate.

Summing up 2019

After the weekly series finished in 2018, I was in a daze for a few months, but in 2019 I worked only on Jack Jeanne for the year.

This year I tried various things, and trite as it may seem, felt the possibilities within myself expanding. I had many opportunities to realize how important it is to keep a distance from bad things that don’t do anything for me.

During my work on Jack Jeanne, I vaguely thought about my future creations. The work I’m doing now in game production is fun so I wonder if I can keep working in this field, but I’d also like an environment where I can release things more constantly.

I can’t promise anything specific, but I’m going to work on things that I want to do.

I look forward to what 2020 has to offer. Have a happy New Year.

2019.12.31 Ishida Sui