#most fucked up relationship in da'at

[kivaember]

the dagda dlc in smtvv reminded me that i started to write a nahobino nanashi oneshot aaaaaaaaaaaages ago when vanilla came out in 2022... rereading it again and wondering if i should finish it. i loved writing nanashi and dagda bouncing off each other...

anyway excerpts below:

-

All Nanashi could see was sand. 

It was bright; a searing gold that half-blinded him, streams of it wisping across the shifting dunes from a constant, dry wind. Nanashi squinted against the glare and the grit clinging to his eyelashes, and tried to orientate himself. He felt… groggy, and weird, like his body was both too heavy and too light for him. Pretty standard when he resurrected from a particularly nasty death; Dagda had to rearrange organs sometimes and pad missing muscle and…

Speaking of. 

“Dagda?” he mumbled, and cringed when his voice came out all rasping and strange. There was a bizarre reverb to it, and he ran his hand over his mouth - and froze.

That… did not feel normal. 

Kid, Dagda piped up abruptly, his voice utterly flat. What did you do.

“Why’re you blaming me?!” Nanashi complained, his hackles raised instantly. He didn’t do anything! He… thinks. Did he? They were in the Yamato Reactor place, then… hm, something happened and… ah, Nanashi can’t really remember. Whatever, it probably wasn’t a big deal. They’d find out where they were eventually.

He felt an upwelling of utter disgust - then confusion. Wait, that wasn’t his confusion - though he was pretty fucking confused - that was- 

“Wait,” Nanashi scrambled onto his feet, clumsily, pinwheeling his arms and blinking rapidly to clear his fuzzy vision. His entire body felt out of sync, and he drew his hands close, squinting at them. 

…

These weren’t his hands. 

Nanashi closed his eyes, counted to ten, and opened them. 

…still weren’t his hands. 

We’ve become a Nahobino, Dagda muttered. He said the word like it was a particularly juvenile insult, far too beneath him to utter and he resented Nanashi for making him say it. Of all the things…

“Can you please explain to the poor, stupid human?” Nanashi asked, his gaze travelling up his (???) arms. Briefly, he wondered if he was in Dagda’s body, but the proportions were all off, and the brown, stylised armour was far sleeker and different. It was like, Nanashi but in Dagda’s armour, but less… pointy. 

Kind of reminded him of Danu, actually- 

It’s a god’s ‘true form’, Dagda sneered. Hn, true in that it is the form mortals initially envisioned us as, before YHVH stole our Knowledge. It makes no difference to me. A prison is a prison, powerful or not.

“So, why am I in your armour and…” Nanashi lowered his arms, twisting around to see that, yup, he had Dagda’s dorky scarf-cape thing too. 

You got something to say about my fashion sense?

Nanashi jumped slightly. “Hey! We agreed on no mind-reading!”

You’re practically bellowing your thoughts in here, kid. I can’t ignore them even if I wanted to.

Nanashi immaturely thought of the dirtiest thing he could think of (a faded and suspiciously stained page from a ye olde porn mag) - and yelped when his hand abruptly swung up and punched him in the face. 

“OW! SONUVA-!”

As a Nahobino, Dagda purred, his presence and voice slinking along his thoughts like a mangy cat, we share a body. You’re more of a puppet than you were before. So step carefully, kid.

Nanashi scowled and gingerly rubbed his jaw. His fingers trailed the sharp, jutting edges and he mapped it out, Dagda’s threat immediately forgotten. It felt like his entire lower jaw was covered in some sort of guard, but he could feel where the metal - bone? - merged into the rest of his face - which felt like it had skin, thank god. He didn’t know what he’d do if he had a creepy skeleton face like Dagda. 

Kid, Dagda growled. He radiated irritation like a nuclear reactor core. 

Nanashi quickly moved his hand away from his face in case Dagda decided to poke his eye out or something. “We need to find a mirror.”

Over there, Dagda said curtly, and Nanashi grimaced when his head snapped to the side like an invisible hand had forced it to turn. City ruins. One of them might still have glass in its windows.

Nanashi obediently walked in the direction Dagda indicated. It was - weird. His legs felt a little longer than usual, and what were with these heels?! He knew Dagda wore them tall but Nanashi hadn’t realised how tall until he was trying to strut in them - in sand. In deep, shin-deep sand. He didn’t walk so much as he flailed and staggered his way over to the ruins like a drunken nekomata. 

Stop being an idiot and walk normally, Dagda grumped. 

“I’m sorry but I’m not used to walking in high heels in the desert,” Nanashi hissed back. “If it’s bothering you so much, why don’t you try walking us over, huh?”

Dagda prickled, but Nanashi felt the disconcerting sensation of his body being hijacked. It was like - well, it was like being a puppet, an invisible force marionetting his body to smooth out its gait and murder-strut over to the collapsed buildings despite the deep sand. Nanashi could do nothing but blink, unable to command a single muscle in his body until Dagda deposited him directly in front of a cracked, filthy window and relinquished control. 

“What the fuck,” Nanashi said. 

It looked like him. His face was mostly the same, but his entire bottom jaw was now some weird, armoured skeleton jaw, and his eyes were such a poisonous green they glowed brightly. His body resembled Dagda’s, but the armour was sleeker, more proportioned for him - but it also made him look like a wooden doll. Behind him fluttered twin tails of Dagda’s dark scarf, but they felt… Nanashi frowned and concentrated. The scarf tails twitched, and its frayed edges morphed slightly into claws - two extra hands, apparently, in sentient scarf form. 

Nanashi processed, and said, again, “What the fuck.”

-

(THEN SMTH SMTH THEY RUN INTO NAHOBINO RIN)

-

“So, wait…” Nanashi ogled the strange creature before him. “You two want to be partners?”

The human blinked slowly at him. He didn’t emote much, but Nanashi was used to parsing expressions from Dagda’s stone-cold skull - this ‘Rin’ wasn’t that difficult to figure out in comparison - and it was clear that he was both confused and concerned. 

“Yes?” Rin said. “Isn’t it the same for you?”

Dagda made a low, scoffing noise. He was still glaring dramatically across the desert’s… horizon (did it count as a horizon when it curved upwards?), but as always he was unable to stay out of a conversation if he could be a petty bitch in it. Nanashi made sure to think this thought extra loudly, and was rewarded with a very sharp mental poke that felt like Dagda spiritually speared his brainstem. 

“...well,” Nanashi said. “It's difficult to answer ‘yes’ or ‘no’.” 

“He’s my puppet,” Dagda sneered, turning towards them with dark, intent eyes. “He’s my Godslayer, and he kills who I order him to kill.”

There was a brief, taut pause where Dagda glanced from Rin to his towering ‘partner’, who stared back just as intently (but with a lot less murder vibes). Nanashi could almost feel Dagda’s decision to be a dick.

“And you two are climbing high on that list,” Dagda finished in a low, threatening rasp. 

Nanashi rolled his eyes. Jesus fucking Christ. 

“Basically,” he interjected, “he’s too lazy to do anything himself.”

Dagda slowly turned towards him, pinning him down with that death glare. Sucks to be him, Nanashi was immune.

“A terrible backseat driver, though,” Nanashi continued, holding Dagda’s glare with a smirk so sharp it could cut diamonds. “Can’t handle any sort of criticism, won’t be caught dead putting in more effort than quipping a useless taunt, never outgrew his edgy teenager phase-”

Dagda clamped his hand down on his head, forcing him downwards into a low bow and his neck to strain at a painfully awkward angle. Nanashi grunted, grabbing Dagda’s wrist, but the god was unrelenting. 

“I should just snap your neck,” Dagda grumbled, but, as Nanashi was beginning to realise, he was all bark and no bite when it came to him (so long as Nanashi was useful as a Godslayer, that is). 

There was a quick flash of blue light that flickered across the ground and over his and Dagda’s feet, followed by a soft ‘ffwsst!’ of raw energy cutting the air. 

“Oh?” Dagda purred. “Looking for a fight, are you?”

Wait, were those two going to-!? 

“It’s fine!” Nanashi quickly yelped, and he smacked Dagda’s arm frantically in a ‘let me up!’ gesture. Dagda ignored him. “Dagda’s harmless! For him, I mean! He just revives me if I die so it’s fine!”

“What,” the other human said, flat and cold. 

“As I said, he’s my puppet,” Dagda sneered. “He’ll die when I order him to die, not before, and not after.”

Why was Dagda like this?! Seriously!

“I’m gonna snap my own neck in a minute if you don’t stop being difficult,” Nanashi hissed. “And I’ll stay dead too! See if you ever get a Godslayer as good as me again!”

“Don’t think too highly of yourself,” Dagda huffed, but he did let him go, so Nanashi chalked that up as a win for him. 

“‘Don’t think too highly-!’ Ugh, you’re such a brat!” Nanashi snarled as he straightened up, roughly clawing his fingers through his hair to fluff it up where Dagda had flattened it. “Who’s the adult here, huh? It definitely ain’t you!”

Dagda just gave him a ‘stop throwing a temper tantrum in the milk aisle kid you’re embarrassing me’ glare, but Nanashi just ignored him, pivoting to the communicatively healthy demon-human pair (god what a thought) fused into one being again. Rin was sort of but not quite glaring at Dagda, looking like he was unsure on whether he should intervene or if this was normal for them (it was, unfortunately). 

“You wanna swap?” Nanashi asked, jerking his thumb at Dagda. 

“...no thanks,” Rin said a bit stiffly. “He looks too high maintenance.”

Nanashi barked out a mean laugh - and swiftly ducked out of the way of Dagda’s grasping hand when the old grump went to scruff him. Not seriously scruff him, as Dagda didn’t pursue when Nanashi danced out of range. The god just settled for trying to liquidise him with his poisonous stare alone. 

“Is this…” Rin began slowly, reluctantly extinguishing his energy blade. “Normal for you two?”

“Our relationship is built on professional pragmatism,” Nanashi said honestly. “Though, the professional bit kinda slides here and there.”

Dagda almost felt approving, which was utterly bizarre to feel. Nanashi gave him a weird look and instantly Dagda self-corrected, pushing a sludge of feelings through their new yet highly unwanted connection that made Nanashi feel vaguely oily and gross. What a disturbing experience. 

“Stop doing that,” Nanashi grumbled. “I’ll lick you.”

“Keep your disease ridden tongue away from me, kid, unless you wanna lose it.”

-

(SMTH SMTH THEN AOGAMI AND DAGDA TALK ABOUT THEIR RESPECTIVE HUMANS)

-

“-he’s been a pain from the start,” Dagda finished sourly. 

Aogami didn’t respond, not that Dagda expected him to engage in his ‘why humans are pathetic, part one’ rant. Watching this synthetic demon interact with his ~partner~ was downright nauseating at times, but also morbidly curious. Was this what humanity really craved? The gods and demons they unwittingly imprisoned being their friends? Or more, if the vibes he was sensing between those two were right (ugh, why was he surrounded by demon fuckers). 

But then Aogami said; “I think you’re actually quite fond of your human.”

If Dagda was cursed with the human affliction called ‘breathing’, he would’ve choked. As it was, he just stared at the synthetic demon with every dreg of bitter disdain he could muster in his body - which, admittedly, was infinite. A lesser demon would have cowered away from such concentrated hostility being laser beamed directly into their skull. Unfortunately, Aogami either had nerves of steel or was socially braindead, as Dagda’s rancid vibes just bounced right off him.  

“Do you disagree?” the synthetic demon asked mildly. 

“I,” Dagda said loftily, “feel many emotions towards my Godslayer, but fondness is not one of them.”

“You protect him and offer guidance.”

“I am ensuring my investment actually crosses the finish line,” Dagda sneered, jabbing his finger aggressively in Aogami’s direction. He wished he was closer so he could poke out his eyes. “I’ve poured too much of my precious time and effort into this kid for him to just- get himself killed in this backwater world. The gods here are pathetic and unworthy of even being target practice-”

Aogami bulldozed right over Dagda’s rant-building momentum. “Gods have nothing but time. You can easily replace him.”

Dagda… paused.

He hadn’t expected such logical callousness from this otherwise bleeding heart of a robot companion. He crossed his arm (not defensively) and narrowed a suspicious glare at him. Aogami’s expression hadn’t changed or twitched. It made him infuriatingly difficult to read. 

“...I hate wasting my time, no matter how infinite,” Dagda said, but even he knew it was a weak defence. 

“It would be more efficient for you to abandon Nanashi here, and return to your own realm, as gods are not bound to specific worlds as humans are,” Aogami pointed out, his tone still perfectly mild. “Remaining here with him, trying to return him to his original world, is ‘wasting time’.”

it isn’t, Dagda almost said, but narrowly held it back because… 

He had waited a long time for his Godslayer, and not because he had slim pickings. Dagda had lurked at the mouth of the human netherworld, watching the species parade in droves into that mysterious place beyond even a god’s reach. He hadn’t extended his hand to any one of them, because they had been grey, washed out things - weak, spineless, unworthy. A few had the spark of defiance here and there, but the rough life of Tokyo had turned them brittle, and death was the final blow that broke them. 

Nanashi, though…

The kid had come barrelling at him like a wrecking ball, his eyes bright with viciousness and his tiny fists clenched in aggressive fury. Nanashi had been fully prepared to lunge at him, to chew his throat out like he had fucking rabies - he blazed with the desire to live, to keep on living, to claw and bite and scream his way into life even if he had to throw himself bloody against the gatekeeper. Dagda had taken one look at him and just thought ‘you’.

Death broke humans, repeated deaths shattered them - it was unnatural to them, to die and live and die and live again. Nanashi endured it, though, because he was just too fucking furious and stubborn at the world. Maybe Dagda saw a little of himself in him, this angry slip of a thing, too small to do anything because the world was so big and he was so insignificant, unless…

Dagda was a hypocrite, he knew. He preached to never rely on others, but here he leaned on Nanashi, even if it was just as a useful tool. Nanashi leaned on him for life and strength. They were both pathetic in their own way, but Dagda was self-aware enough to acknowledge his own hypocrisy. So long as he achieved his goal, did it really matter if he was a fucking liar to himself? 

So, yeah, maybe a bit of protectiveness over his investment had spawned. It didn’t matter. ‘Fond’ meant something entirely different to whatever shit Aogami had concocted in that warped little brain of his. 

“You think worthy humans just grow on trees?” Dagda drawled. “You think any of them are like our humans? Sure, I can ditch the kid… but I’d be waiting around for another few hundred years to find someone equivalent. It’ll be faster in the long run to punch a hole through reality and drag the kid through, kicking and screaming, back to where he belonged.”