#which is probably equally infuriating because it still has a spike but I think I would look better with that

[b0ydeleted]

I am NO JOKE about to take out my angel bites because I'm so annoyed with the ball coming out STOP IT

[tejvirani]

It shifts things in me. On a cellular level. Things this chef wouldn't ever have said before. Things Tej would not believe if he hadn't witnessed it. "How often do you have to... oh fucking hell." Fingers of one hand soothed the bridge of his nose before they rubbed at his eyes. How could he possibly be expected to say it with a straight face?

Yet Tej made the effort, simply because it wasn't all that funny. "Release. How are you doing this, exactly?" Where? "Every day?" His gaze scooped across the room for evidence of anything charred. And then, as if to confirm. "You'd have to store it all up then. For a big bang." A beat. "I'm really not trying to be funny."

"Ah," the only melodic sound before the tone hit the doldrums again. "You were with me for the scintillating conversation, mhm. No, I don't think I'm superior to everyone. That's saved for the best and brightest Shair son." Still, there was no offer to provide more details on where he stayed, or even why Tej avoided the bungalows.

Brown eyes grew wider with Zaid's next bit of rewritten history, because Tej's version of events was regarded as the most historically accurate (by himself, of course). "The hell? You spent more time with kitchen staff patting backs over your umpteenth dish of karela pyaz! Like you cured cancer or something." Which was annoying. And, perhaps he spiked karela on purpose, for a bitter return serve.

But to say all he wanted was praise?! "That's, ha." He pointed an accusing finger. "You're out of your mind." He scoffed, which turned into a ripe laugh. (But really, who didn't want a little praise now and then? They'd both sopped it up like rice in curry, equally as nourishing.)

Tej tried to step away and end the ridiculous back and forth, but too late. The absolute joke of Zaid's accusations dragged him right back. Ball and chain, indeed. "Forget Food & Wine. You couldn't even handle reading a single mediocre 3 star Yelp review without losing your head." The pandemic expertly sidestepped by Tej, and a million other factors that were out of Zaid's hands. Everything they once found hilarious now used as ammunition.

"We were never like that man, never on the same page!" a snarled lie for the sake of it, to take something away from Zaid. Anything to leave a mark in a way the off course smacks that followed couldn't do. (Their dissimilar ways once spun an enthralling web that held them together. No more now.)

Zaid draped himself in the most cinematic pose across the bed, in all his Technicolor glory. Just like in other places, only with different views out the window. A sulking Zaid lured Tej in with this type of view as well. Softly hurt expression on a sharp profile. Trusting back to the door as if he had no idea Tej slipped into the room (despite his ass on display).

And Tej, ready to crawl on top of Zaid and smooth over whatever stupid argument they were embroiled in with skin on skin. Fight, fuck, forget. Repeat.

They were not those people anymore, everything had changed.

Yet Tej's insistence struck the wall and heated hands cupped Zaid's face. For shock value, attention still uselessly sought from someone his mind said to reject and the rest of him wanted so badly it hurt. "I told you, I said I was stung." Did he? Eh. He rocked into and then away from searching hands. The I'm here but come and get me game. Meanwhile Tej wished for the light to liquify Zaid, so that he could pour the man right down his throat. "Benji. Darcy's brother, yeah. He's a performance artist. I've known him for a few years." As if to highlight you don't know anything about me. "He probably mentioned having a sister but I never realized she was right here the whole time." And as infuriating as Darcy was she exuded a recognizable quality. The way she pronounced a word or tugged on a strand of hair, some habit or quirk subconsciously registered belonging to someone (Benji) in another (Darcy). "I don't know..." how I'm alive. His head wobbled. He'd felt dead. Abandoned in brutal cold with a injured soul. Compromised, left to the elements, buried under a thick layer of undisturbed snow.

Fingers curled around the side of Zaid's neck, the thumb gently pressed the notch at the bottom of Zaid's throat. The snow began to melt. "Don't know why Darcy's brother connects us now. There has to be a way to find it out." Tej's voice sank low, hushed, with eyes focused on Zaid's mouth. "This place knows everything about us. Everything between us." In between. What kept them apart.

The light switched off, but it wasn't the reason why Zaid's skin lost its glow. Words came in stops and starts. A chef known for barking instructions had no power in his voice, and sounded as if he was talking from a great distance.

Zaid tripped over to the window. A deeply self-absorbed thought: how dare he not want me, how dare he be repulsed, after everything! Or this was a way to dodge Tej's demand for Zaid to vacate the bungalow. Contempt and a sense of being wounded wrestled for dominance in his head.

No retching sounds came. Tej walked up behind Zaid who hung out the window. There was an earthy smokiness there, and as he leaned to look over Zaid's shoulder, he saw the scarred grass and ground outside. "Fucking hell," he whispered. "You. It happened again."

Zaid faced him. Refreshed, like he'd woken from the most restive sleep. While Tej felt the opposite, suddenly tired with splotches of light jumping through his vision.

I can do anything I want, love. How he used to love the confidence. Zaid wiggled the hammer out and attacked the wall himself, in what Tej assumed to be an instance of Zaid copying him. Bastard. Yet the damage grew more extensive, purposeful versus Tej slamming at the wall for a reaction. An opening began to form between the crack of wood and puffs of pulverized dry wall.

Zaid created an eye into the bedroom.

And then launched at Tej, a heat seeking missile with an inescapable demand. Free falling into the kiss was easy. Like wrapping himself in a fond memory, one that played over and over in his head until he'd learned every angle and edge by heart.

The wider and more intense they spiraled into each other, he lost his breath, his higher faculties. Something about that mouth stirred him, maybe because he knew exactly what it could do and in how many ways to him.

Let me live here. Absolutely not. Tej refused to interfere with whatever spell the nest cast with a an answer. He kept Zaid close to embrace the whispers. Held the wrist of Zaid's hand at his pants to say, please touch me. Timed a turn of the head to graze Zaid's ear with his lips and a soft moan as his fly was undone. Hopefully a reminder Tej sounded wonderful quiet, but better loud.

Tej was already greedily popping open Zaid's fly, stepping out of ugly flip flops (FLOWR brand), and dreaming of what would come off next, when Zaid said it can watch us. The nest. It can watch us. "What?" Perplexed, brows knitted tense, Tej looked over at the hole in the wall, and back at Zaid.

He stood silent with a few blinks. He stripped off his shirt and grabbed one of Zaid's hands to run over a healing puncture below his ribs. "This is what one of those things did to me. One of the places it got me. Feel it. Put your hand on it. Another spot on my thigh."

His voice quieted again while his eyes met Zaid's. "I didn't know what would happen, when I was attacked." All true, yes. Did he maybe lean into it? Did he perhaps use attack on purpose, to trigger more concern? "Hurt like hell. Thought I'd die without." This truth not for sympathy, and not to be completed. (Tej wondered, what would happen, how would Zaid react?)

He led Zaid to face the handiwork in the wall. Tej's small and striking and Zaid's a bigger statement. Zaid's shirt came off then, and then Tej wrapped his arms around Zaid from behind. A closeness he took for granted, missed for so long.

Tej leaned to nip at Zaid's neck. A heated mark that his tongue flickered over to soothe. A hand on Zaid's cheek turned his face towards Tej, and Tej's thumb rolled over those lips until Zaid opened his mouth. "You want the nest to watch us, but I'm the ghoul, hm?" Still. He swallowed, because his mouth watered from the lunacy.

The heaviness from his limbs burned away and the colored lights in his eyes faded for his want for Zaid. It was his turn to pounce, with kisses rough and reckless as he blindly brought them to the mattress. He left Zaid standing while Tej sank to his knees.

Zaid's pants were wrested further down. Tej latched on to his hips with his hands, and his gaze locked on with Zaid's too. He began to mouth and tongue the shape of Zaid over his boxer briefs. Slow, wet, a little sloppy, very eager.

He sat back on his knees with fingers dragged over Zaid's thighs, over the front of his briefs and a harder cock. "Look at it, Zaid. Is it still watching us? Is this what it wants?"

Zaid shook his head, intent on clarifying one thing (perhaps a little fearful of Tej's lopsided smile. How easily it could flip to immediate cut-off. The cruelest punishment of all, denying access to Tej. Did Tej even know that? Did he wield himself like a weapon, deliberately?) "No, darling, no. It wasn't you that made me, erm, explode like that." A truncated joke of innuendo, that Zaid swallowed before he continued. "I wasn't feeling well. Whatever...whatever builds inside me, it's. It shifts things in me. On a cellular level?"

Zaid grimaced, expecting derision for this rather melodramatic description, but that was how it felt. "I need to release the built-up, erm, energy. Not in one big go, but in small amounts. But that first time, with you, it had just...culminated, right. I didn't know what was happening to me. Releasing it resets me insides, like. It only hurts before I release the energy. Afterwards I feel brilliant, honestly. But it wasn't because I was pissed at you."

Withholding. That was the word. Una used it once (not for Tej, it was during a group session) and Zaid thought it now, when Tej refused to talk. Withholding. What Zaid was scared about the most. Having 24/7, 8-days-a-week access to Tej for years, and he'd taken it for granted. Now, Tej withheld.

The way Tej put himself down - even sarcastically - shocked Zaid. He'd never heard Tej speak this way about himself. "That what you think I believe about you? That you're stupid?" Zaid shook his head, and vainly asked (thinking he was making a valid, complimentary point), "Why would I be with anyone I thought stupid."

And here they went again, back on this old merry-go-round. Tej whinging about Zaid not giving him attention. Or the right, specific attention that Tej expected Zaid to read his mind, instinctively know Tej craved. "I never ignored you!" Zaid exploded, albeit quietly. "You just didn't like what I paid attention to, not in New York! All you wanted was praise, never critique! Artists need critique! I was just trying to help you!"

(Firstly, hypocritical of Zaid to say. And secondly, unfair. An artist could expect critique from strangers, reviewers, mentors. Not their partner. Not about something as personal and vulnerable as their art, their artistic calling.)

Was it possible to be jealous of an inanimate thing? Easy answer for Zaid: yes. The way Tej turned his own adoring attention to the nest, with all its bits and wires and strange colours and plastics and meshy crepey papier, was with wonder. Tenderness, almost. A joy lit up in Tej that Zaid had thought long extinguished. A nest gave him that, not Zaid.

"Oh pish," Zaid clucked, folding his arms and sulking. "You were mocking yourself first, with that half-arsed tale." (Not realising that it was wariness that made Tej downplay his and Darcy's triumph.) "I'm sorry that I can't read your bloody mind, Tej. We...we used to be so in sync..." Zaid said that sadly, wistfully. (Not realising that some support was all Tej sought from him.)

HOW is you staying here not living in the past too?!

Zaid had no answer for that. Because if he admitted Tej was right, then he feared it would truly, completely be over. And if it was over, then it would be unbearable to exist here, in close proximity to Tej, and have nothing between them. Not even...whatever this was. Wrestling with a sledgehammer. A slap to the face, that Tej returned in kind (subhanallah). Tej's hit didn't sting, but Zaid's ear rung sweetly, like a call to prayer.

A silent retreat (beckon) into Tej's bedroom, where Zaid sprawled on the bed, arms wrapped around a pillow as he rested his chin and stared out a window. Silence outside - no slam of a front door, but a slide of shoes. No crash of the sledgehammer, just quiet. Minutes passed. Coexisting in the same place, just not together...it made Zaid supple and sleepy, almost.

Until - CRASH! - and Zaid jolted up, to find the hammer in a hole in the wall, and then his view was entirely taken up by Tej. Zaid stared back, mesmerized and a little afraid. Not for his own personal safety, but for the bungalow itself. For Tej, himself. That careless, recklessness that Zaid found so enticing, exciting. (That Zaid later tried to harness and muzzle and control, because his own work life was spinning out of control).

But Tej's fingers pressed against Zaid's face, cradling his features like they were precious, sculptable. Zaid clasped Tej's hands, gasping at the blend of warmth, the subsurface scattering around Tej's face and ears, riming him in soft glowing red.

"You, you were stung?!" Tej launched into the tale, to one captive audience. But Zaid shuffled his hands down to search Tej's body for any lingering injury. The hornet's stingers must've hurt, they must've been big! Tej was hurt - Tej was hurt and wouldn't tell him. But Tej kept talking. Hands kept up a story of their own - tracing the past or sketching a new present for them, on Zaid's skin? The heat, the light, the glow of Tej felt transformative as his skillful hands rustled along and Zaid wanted more, more of it.

"Darcy's brother...what..." Zaid gasped, caught in a swirl of sensation and light. "How'd you know her brother?" He reached for Tej, pulling at him, tugging and demanding. He wanted Tej closer, he wanted to soak Tej up, absorb him entirely. Tej and all his beautiful translucent warmth.

A volcano. A lava pit. Tej and Darcy and a giant hornet. And a bloody lava pit. It was overwhelming to contemplate, and too unreal to comprehend fully. "Mashallah...how are you still alive?? I just - can't imagine -" Zaid's face crumpled, thoughts crashing together. The pain of losing a child to an unfathomable, unstoppable ocean, of losing Tej to a geologic ancient volcano.

Then, the sunlight (Tej) blacked out. And - You don't have to take this, Zaid.

Zaid blinked, stars in his eyes as he tried to adjust, like stepping out of a bright day and into a dark room. But it wasn't just a visual adjustment, it was emotional too. A complete pivot, a 180 that just pointed to an old direction Zaid never wanted to revisit. Tej's voice on a phone. Tej's cajoling. Tej convincing Zaid of...nothing. Because Zaid didn't listen. He didn't want to listen to the one person he needed to hear the most.

"Wha -" A sudden lurch of nausea, that made Zaid balk. He covered his mouth, as if that would help.

You know you can't do it.

A surge of anger (hurt. Or was it a molecular shifting?) as Zaid stared at Tej, and willed himself to hate this man. He couldn't. He shouldn't. It was Tej's choice to hate, and for good reason. "You can't - hnn." Zaid broke out into a sweat, things shifting rapidly inside him. "Don't -" he tried again, and failed. He was over-filled, over-capacity. "I need to -"

Zaid stumbled away from Tej, opened a window and half-threw himself outside of it. Arms - to hands - to fingertips - he had practiced some, he knew how to make sure it didn't just splooge out of his orifices like some slobbering mongrel. The white energy shot out of Zaid's hands, aimed at the ground. The grass sizzled, ground scorched. The bungalow itself seemed to groan and shift slightly...but then, it was over.

Zaid hung there on the windowsill for a moment, feeling much, much better. It happened so quickly. The build-up, it happened in the matter of seconds, with Tej's light bouncing on Zaid's skin, warm fingers pressing into Zaid's bones....and Zaid realized.

It was Tej.

Tej...had charged Zaid. He charged him, like a battery. Like an electric overload. You know you can't do it.

Zaid turned to face Tej. "I can do anything I want, love." He reached for the buried sledgehammer, working it out o the wall only to smash it into the wall again, and again, Zaid's yelps of effort accompanying each crash. A couple more times as the wood splintered, and then Zaid hacked to expose the living room beyond, and the nest exposed. A perfect window to see the nest from the bedroom. Or - for the nest to see into the bedroom.

"And you -" Zaid dropped the hammer and charged towards Tej, onto him. But not in attack. He was a fully charged battery, and he needed to be used somehow. He gripped Tej's sides, then one hand around his back, up to the nape of his neck. Under all that long thick hair, cradling him. A kiss. Soft and tentative at first, then melting into something deeper, heated tongue dipping between Tej's lips. Lava pits, lightshows, and energy blasts. Nothing as hot as Tej's sweet, perfect, open mouth.

"Let me live here. Give me permission, tolerate me. Just forgive me enough for this, please." Zaid crushed the whispered words against Tej's soft cheeks, along those soft hairs on his jaw and chin. Hands slid down Tej, rucking up his shirt. Then seeking under the waistband, undoing the button and fly. "Let's do something we'll both regret later, yeah? In front of the nest, yeah? It's peeking now, it can watch us."

[klixxy]

Weekly Fic Recs

(ft. my bookmark comments)

HAIKYUU!!:

the pretty (pining) setters squad - bloodyhalefire 

(haikyuu!!; multiple relationships; chatfic; setter-centric; 36k words; ongoing)

oikawa: I HAVE NO FEAR

suga: straight iwaizumi

oikawa: I HAVE ONE FEAR

said you’re coming back home, boy, don't feel so alone - jublis

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kageyama-centric; 9k words) MANGA SPOILERS

The ball rolls gently on the ground, all the way to Tobio’s feet. He bends down to pick it up, and something in his blood sizzles like lightning. He looks at the leathery surface, then at his sister’s wild smile and neat hair; looks back at the court and the net, where the boys are running a spiking practice. Everyone else seems focused on the attackers, but Tobio’s eyes are zeroed on the one tossing. Set, connect, spike. Bang-bang-bang.

No one wins without the setter.

Tobio tosses the ball to Miwa and says, “Again.”

Or, Kageyama Tobio grows up, older, and not that much wiser at all. Featuring brothers and sisters, anger, connection, and that moment when someone finally catches up with you.

My Best Friend is a 9 Year-Old - CO32minus

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; kagehina-centric; 48k words) MANGA SPOILERS

Kageyama didn't expect to become friends with Hinata nearly as fast as he did. He expected becoming best friends with Hinata's sister even less. But over the course of his high school career, the two of them grow closer than any friend Kageyama has had in a long time. A long time.

[my bookmarks: beautiful. a masterpiece. i have been rendered... speechless. it's poignant and painful and heartbreaking.

explores the relationships between tobio and a variety of people in a unique way. an emotional, tearful rollercoaster all the way through.]

you who appeared before my eyes like a miracle - vivahate

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kageyama-centric; hurt/comfort; 2k words) MANGA SPOILERS

Everything I told you last night,” Kageyama says at last and he sounds so awful, so defensive: he keeps trying to pull away, and Hinata can tell he’s come to all the wrong conclusions. “I told you because I wanted to. There’s nothing more to it. I don’t need your -”

“It’s not pity!” Hinata hisses, tightening his hold on Kageyama’s hands. “Or whatever else you’re thinking.” Hinata releases another quivering breath against Tobio’s neck, the setter going completely still in his arms. It’s important that Tobio understands. “It breaks my heart knowing that the boy I love was hurting and I didn’t even –” he breaks off with a sound of frustration, “I could’ve done something to make it at least a little better for you.”

(or; Kageyama tells Hinata about Kazuyo san after the Black Jackals/Adlers game, and Hinata processes.)

cats and other challenges - vivahate (they have such good fics!)

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; hurt/comfort; 6k words) MANGA SPOILERS

“Was that Hime?” Miwa asks over the phone, having apparently heard that pathetic yowl.

“No.” Tobio grunts, “It’s a different cat I picked up from the garbage on my way home.” On the other end of the line Miwa laughs gleefully, probably thinking he’s joking.

He’s not.

(Or; Sometime in the year following the Olympics, Tobio finds himself adopting a cat. And then three more. Hinata doesn't mind.)

etymology - tothemoon

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; coming of age; 3k words) MANGA SPOILERS

Kageyama Tobio has a language all his own.

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is pure poetry. beauty. breathtaking. <3]

and if you asked me if i love him (i'd lie) - fakecharliebrown

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kagehina-centric; humor; falling in love; au; 13k words)

“Okay, what the fuck,” Tobio said, upon seeing the source of the commotion in his kitchen. There, standing in front of his open window—when had he opened that?—was a guy probably several years younger than Tobio, a high schooler most likely, with bright, orange hair. He was soaked to the bone, dripping rainwater all over Tobio’s kitchen floor like he was trying to fill a new lake.

The boy looked up, wide-eyed, and blurted, “This isn’t my apartment.”

or; Hinata accidentally breaks into Kageyama’s apartment, starts a fire, and is deeply offended that Kageyama eats lettuce. It all seems to unravel from there.

burn - orphan_account

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kagehina-centric; au; 3k words)

Kageyama Tobio had always had the odd ability to see the numbers signalling how dangerous a person was. He'd gone through his childhood surrounded by Twos and Threes, maybe even Fours. And then he meets his Ten.

~~~~~~~~~~

The flame seemed to burn ever so bright, as Kageyama felt the air around the other basically crackle. He felt as if he was Icarus and Hinata was the Sun. Two wings to hold him up, a fiery heat to burn him down.

Don't get too close, or you'll melt.

6/10 - CheekyBrunette

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kageyama-centric; social anxiety; 19k words)

Hinata babbled on. “Natsu’s just so annoying sometimes. Everyone comes over and is like, ‘But oh, she’s so cute!’ and, well... yeah, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t like pushing all my buttons, you know? I mean, this is the third time she stole my blue furoshiki, so I had to wrap my bento with her stupid cat one!”

Kageyama’s hands knotted up in the bottom hem of his shorts. “Little sisters are the worst,” he tried.

Hinata’s nose scrunched up, and Kageyama’s stomach threatened to tie itself in knots. That had been the wrong thing to say. “Well, she’s not the worst,” Hinata corrected. Kageyama felt stupid for speaking up.

Fixation - @radio-silents

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kagehina-centric; 7k words)

Hinata can’t stand Kageyama.

He can’t stand Kageyama’s stupid grumpy face, he can’t stand his stupid hair, and most of all he can’t stand how stupidly good Kageyama is at volleyball.

Alternatively, where Hinata spends a lot of time being frustrated and confused about his conflicting emotions toward Kageyama.

Summer Days, Flying By - @anawriteshorror​

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kageyama-centric; abuse au; angst; 11k words)

“Ne, Tobio.” Shouyou asked him one afternoon, smile relaxed on his face as he spread his fingers, splaying shadows on the walls. “Have you ever wondered what it’s like to fly?”

He shook his head. Flying meant going outside, and even imagining it made him tense up. He was already breaking enough rules as it was; no need to stir up his mind more than he already had.

Shouyou looked a little sad at that. “Well, I have.” His eyes went to the sky, like he could see himself soaring at that very moment. “You should imagine it, just once.”

The facts that make up his world are this: his name is Kageyama Tobio, he's ten years old, and he's never been outside his house.

Until he met Shouyou.

well, maybe i'm a crook - aruariandance

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; kageyama-centric; angst; 6k words)

The thing is-- Hinata is in love with Kageyama and everyone knows it, including Kageyama.

[my bookmarks: i'm cryignd i can't-]

discovering the smile of one kageyama tobio - Emlee_J (also a great fic writer - check out her other fics they’re all equally as good)

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; falling in love; 3rd year au; 8k words)

Kageyama blinks once before a grin of his own spreads over his face. Shouyou’s breath halts in his lungs at the sight, and he wills for time to stop, just so he can drink it in. He sees it sometimes, when they’re playing - Kageyama’s fierce smile when they pull a combo off just right, when they show their opponents how possible the impossible can really be. But then there’s another serve, another rally, and the moment is gone.

'Shame', Shouyou thinks to himself, as he lets his eyes roam over Kageyama’s stupidly happy face, taking in the creases that are from joy rather than frowning, for a change. 'It’s a really nice smile.'

-

In which it's their third, and final, year in high school and Hinata has only one goal: to make Kageyama smile outside of volleyball.

Wedding Tosses - its_tabby_cat

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; wedding; fluff/humor; 4k words) MILD MANGA SPOILERS

Based on the post I can't find anymore about Hinata and Kageyama spiking their wedding bouquet during the bouquet toss in their wedding.

Hinata and Kageyama's wedding is unique in their friends and guests' memories for one very specific reason. Natsu and Miwa wish they could say they saw this coming when they organised a bouquet toss as part of their brothers' wedding, but they didn't. They should have, though.

Hinata and Kageyama have no regrets. Neither do any of their guests (Except maybe Tsukishima).

gonna stand by you - meregalaxiesandgods

(haikyuu!!; gen; 3rd year au; kageyama-centric; 5k words)

Five times Kageyama defended his teammates, and one time they defended him.

baby, i can give you wings - Metis_Ink

(haikyuu!!; kagehina/daisuga; superpower au; humor/romance; 8k words)

In which there are superpowers, cats, rainstorms, realizations, split-second jealousy, embarrassing volleyparents, killer whales, electric Kuroos, unstable emotions, bad romance movie mentions, some angst, some fluff, but mostly a lot of awkward high schoolers.

-

The minute Kageyama walks into the gym and sees Hinata hovering eight feet over the nets he knows he’s screwed.

if it wasn't for you - diphylleias

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; getting together; 13k words) MANGA SPOILERS

A long moment passes between them, and Hinata watches, starstruck, as Heitor’s eyes linger on Nice’s silhouette from across the venue. His voice is deep, rich, all encompassing. “Some people change your life just by being in it, and you don’t want to let that go.”

Huh, Hinata thinks grandly.

[my bookmarks: This is majestic. Im now gonna proceed to scream internally about my kagehina feels for the next few hours.]

kintsugi - horchata

(haikyuu!!; gen; magical realism; kageyama-centric; 4k words)

Tobio notices when people get hurt. Something inside him hums to fix it.

The first time’s for Iwaizumi-san.

i bear little resemblance to the king i could become - silpium

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; kageyama-centric; found family; 1k words)

Something else that’s infuriating about Hinata: he doesn’t question much. He never questions how Kageyama never smiles. He never questions why Kageyama doesn’t seem to have any friends. He never questions why Kageyama doesn’t talk much about himself, or talk much at all. He’ll make fun of these things sometimes, sure, but there’s never a probing question lingering beneath it. He seems to know there are just some things about Kageyama that are the way they are and that won’t change.

Or: sometimes people find their homes later in life.

Saffron and Cayenne Pepper - dontsaycrazy

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; falling in love; cooking au; 30k words)

Cooking is hard. Even if you have your very attractive, very grumpy neighbor there to help you.

In which Hinata's lack of cooking skills are a danger to him and others. Luckily (or not), Kageyama is willing to teach him, if only for the sake of avoiding any burned down apartments.

halcyon - @queenanimetrash​

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; depression; falling in love; hurt/comfort; 11k words)

"...And Kageyama cried. There was no rhyme or reason to it. There was no reason for all of the things he was feeling. Depression was weird like that, the lady in the pantsuit told him. There was no reason for it. It just comes and stays sticky on your skin, lumpy in your throat, heavy in your heart, suffocating and cold all at once."

again - bigspoonnoya

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; falling in love; reincarnation au; fantastical; 15k words)

Both your deaths in this universe have failed. “Failed…” Kageyama echoes. The word seems to hurt him. “How can you fail at dying?” Hinata asks, incredulous. Luckily you have an infinite selection of universes, with an extensive number of lifetimes, still remaining. Until you can save one another, you will never grow old.

[my bookmarks: magical. absolutely breathtaking. amazingly poetic. <33333]

Blowing Up - sarahenany

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; gen; bombing au; angst; hurt/comfort; 10k words)

Minor spoilers for early S4 of the anime. Hinata and Kageyama go to different training camps, but news reaches Hinata's camp that there's been a bombing at the Ajinomoto Center, where Kageyama's camp is being held. Kageyama has minor injuries. Hinata is worried and protective. Tsukishima, Ukai, Takeda, Kenma and Kuroo are awesome.

like a sudden flight of birds - starstrikes

(haikyuu!!; atsukage; soulmate au; 17k words) MANGA SPOILERS

There are these chances—the ones that come flying overhead, streaking through the sky, waiting for a jump and a catch.

It takes Tobio a couple wrong chances before the right one comes swooping by like a shooting star. This time, Tobio jumps for the catch and doesn't let go.

stray bird - diarahans

(haikyuu!!; tsukkikage; falling in love; fluff; 7k words)

Tsukishima brings home a rain-drenched Kageyama.

All That's Left - tsunderei

(haikyuu!!; kagehina; falling in love; pacific rim au; 38k words)

Almost immediately after his last mission, where his mistakes nearly claimed the life of his partner, Kageyama Tobio resigns as a Jaeger pilot. Since then he has kept to himself, his life stuck in a rut and his reputation left in tatters. When the Kaiju suddenly threaten to rise again, he doesn’t want anything to do with them.

But along with the new threat comes new recruits, and a certain redheaded pilot isn’t willing to give up on Kageyama so easily. Hinata Shouyou is all about fighting spirit and second chances, despite his lack of experience. Slowly but insistently, he pulls Kageyama along – back to life, back into the Jaeger, back into the drift.

everything/anything by @superish​

[all of my bookmarks for superish’s stuff: ]

like literally. this was my bookmark for one of their fics: 

OH. MY. GOD. OHMYGOD. THIS IS PHENOMAL. BEAUTIFUL. BREATHTAKING. THE DESCRIPTIONS OF TOBIO WERE JUST- A+++++++++++++. INFINITE +S. INCREDIBLE. RIDICULOUSLY GOOD. HEART-STOPPING. THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH ADJECTIVES TO PRAISE THIS FIC. 

OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I'M SCREAMING. I'M GONNA SCREAM. I'M DYING. HOW- WHY- THE EQUIVALENT OF PERFECTION EXISTS IN THIS WORLD, AND IT IS THIS FIC. JESUS CHRIST I'M IN LOVE. THIS IS MY NEW FUCKING RELIGION AND NO ONE CAN TELL ME OTHERWISE.

BNHA:

Knead a Hand? - staqua

(boku no hero academia; bakutodo; bakutodo-centric; 5k words)

Ah. For all of the appliances Shouto had been, a blowtorch was new. Still, just to prompt and bother: "So...?"

"So..."

It was a plea for help but Shouto wanted to hear the words. Another eyebrow twitch. The other one this time, because Bakugou clearly liked to workout both muscles for ultimate impact.

"Argh! Just light your finger on fire and caramelize these shitheads!"

OR: Shouto discovers his quirk is useful for more than hero work through his time spent cooking with a grudging Bakugou.

journey to the past - @aloneintherain​

(boku no hero academia; gen; midoriya-centric; time-travel au; 44k words)

Izuku is five years old the first time he's saved by heroes. He's an instant fan of the woman in pink with her cheerful smile and the man with his ice powers and fine-boned features, even if they both refuse to tell him their names.

For most of his life, Izuku has been the centre of villain attacks, but he has never been injured. Every time, he's saved by bright, unknown heroes—heroes who smile at Izuku, and ruffle his hair or ply him with hugs, and seem mesmerised by how small he is.

Heroes that the rest of the world doesn't believe exists.

(Time-travelling Class 1-A AU)

Candy Canes And Christmas Crackers - bigdorkenergy

(boku no hero academia; bakutodo; fake dating au; slow burn; 104k words)

“So….your huge family somehow all think that you have a long term boyfriend and are insisting that you bring him to your week long Christmas family reunion?” Despite his efforts the end of his question raised in pitch as Kirishma swallowed down a giggle.

“How does that even happen?” Kaminari added popping some of the hashbrowns Bakugou made into his mouth.

_

OR your classic holiday romcom where Bakugou needs a fake boyfriend to bring home for Christmas and Todoroki is willing to take that bullet.

some days - @chibistarlyte​

(boku no hero academia; pre-bakutodo; gen; angst; 6k words)

Most days, Shouto is fine.

But some days...

Some days, Shouto falls apart.

hear me howling - @lunal0u​ 

(i absolutely love, love, love this author check her out PLEASE you don’t even have to ship tododeku just PLEASE)

(boku no hero academia; tododeku; gen; angst; suicide; emotional rollercoaster; 14k words)

Instead of squinting away like Izuku would, Shouto’s eyes seem to grow warmer as they stare into the sun, seem to grow softer.

In the glow of the early morning, the sky painted in hues of red and pink, it almost looks as if the sun itself is reflecting from Shouto’s eyes, his dark pupils dyed gold by the light.

(or, four times izuku watches the sunrise with shouto and the one time he doesn't)

[my bookmarks: this is everything i aspire to be, shoved into one, brilliant fic.]

the stars are floating and we are flying - @lunal0u​

(boku no hero academia; tododeku; gen; angst; mental illness; 39k words)

Aizawa starts walking towards the exit, obviously expecting Shouto to follow him, but Shouto's feet are frozen in place. His eyes flicker from the distorted reflection of himself in the ice to where All Might is giving him a long look, eyes kinder than anything Todoroki has ever been deserving of, and he feels sick.

“Todoroki-kun,” Midoriya says gently, squeezing his arm in what Shouto presumes is meant to be a reassuring gesture. “It’s going to be okay.”

He doesn’t think Midoriya is in any place to tell him what okay is, all things considered, but he chooses to keep quiet on the matter.

[my bookmarks: this made me burst into tears. my heart just exploded. I'm crying like a baby. just fricking- it's just fricking beautiful. astounding. incredible. wonderful. poignant. heartbreaking. so, so very sad. i can't even put it into words frick.]

rock'n'roll, buckaroo! - Origamidragons

(boku no hero academia; gen; humor; youtube au; 6k words)

Kaminari walks up to Todoroki in the hallway after class and says, “Dude, I need your help.”

Todoroki checks over his shoulder, twice, to verify that Kaminari is indeed talking to him. “Why?”

“Yesterday you asked Shinsou-kun if he was Aizawa-sensei’s son,” Kaminari says, as though that explains anything at all.

“...yes?”

“Make a hero conspiracy YouTube channel with me.”

FMAB:

snipers solve 99% of all problems - silentwalrus

(fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood x harry potter; gen; humor; 226k words; ongoing)

Ed had thought, after the whole Promised Day, homunculus, entire country harvested for alchemical batteries thing, the batshit quotient of his life would have settled down some. He really ought to have topped out the meter with that one. But no. The bullshit is just getting started.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Ed demands. “The wizards?”

Podfic & Chinese translation available! See notes

[my bookmarks: holy shit this is amazing... {SPOILERS}]

everything/anything by tierfal

you don’t even have to have read fmab for some of their fics- you can hate royed for all i care- just PLEASE read their fics. all of their fics are just so wonderful and are such an emotional rollercoaster that has you absolutely hooked from start to end. the author has an amazing quality that their writing just makes you feel so much.

please check them out.

ATLA:

respite - @blue---pluto​ 

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; gaang finds out abt zuko’s scar fic; 3k words)

“It’s healing really well.” Katara tells him with a smile, before her lips quirk down into a frown. “Though it’ll still scar pretty bad.”

Zuko shrugs. “It’s ok. I doubt people will really focus on it anyway… the one on my face is a bit more prominent.”

Katara makes a face, like she’s not quite sure if she should laugh or frown, when Toph speaks up.

“You have a scar on your face?” Toph asks, sitting up so she’s sitting by his legs rather than lying on them.

Zuko blinks. He never quite forgets that Toph is blind, but the fact that she can’t see his scar never really occurred to him.

“Oh, yeah.” Zuko looks down at his lap. “My father burned like, half my face off before I was banished.” He says it a little too casually, probably not bitterly enough.

The Competition - @littlelovelyspiderling​ 

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; tickle fic; zuko-centric; 8k words)

The avatar gang competes to see who can get Zuko to laugh first. Adorableness ensues.

where the stars do not take sides - WitchofEndor

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; zukka; azula and zuko-centric; 60k words)

When Azula is nine, she becomes an only child. She hears the Fire Lord call for Zuko's life, and in the morning, her mother and brother are gone. Azula may be young, but she isn't naive. She knows what happened to them.

Which makes it all the more surprising when Azula tracks the Avatar down and fights his group of peasant friends, only to find herself staring into an eerily familiar face.

asmr: Actively Seeking Machiavellism's Redemption - cereal_whore

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; azula redemption; zuko-centric; time travel au; humor; 13k words; ongoing)

When Zuko's midlife crisis is just his life replayed for a second time, it tests not just his patience, but also whether it's truly Azula that's the murderous sibling out of the two. Because Zuko might be a mentally matured sixteen-year-old with his own handful of daddy issues, but he is this close to throwing hands at his eleven-year-old baby sister out in their courtyard.

Or: upon being hit by Azula's lightning in the last battle, Zuko finds himself back in time to when his father just branded half of his face. He also finds himself facing his younger sister, eleven and not a murderer, and through his own mixture of overwhelming pity and resentment for her, realizes he could possibly save not just all the people she killed- but herself as well.

In other words: Zuko wants to make things right for Azula (who was never given a chance by anyone), so he essentially drags her along with him on his life-changing field trip as a tired nanny.

heirloom - jublis

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; azula redemption; angst; series; 56k words; ongoing)

The weight of the world rests on the shoulders of children. In spite of it all, they still find enough place to grow.

[my bookmarks: fuck i��m gonna cry again]

Leaves and Shells - ChimaeraKitten

(avatar: the last airbender; gen; angst; zuko-centric; 2k)

Zuko thought he knew how to deal with grief. But loss is different every time, and losing the one person who anchored him through all the other turmoil is its own special kind of pain. Luckily Zuko is not quite as alone as he once was.

Names - TGP

(avatar: the last airbender; jetko; angst; amnesia au; 89k words)

His name is Li. At least, that’s what the villagers call him and when they die in a Fire Nation attack, he carries that name with him to the Freedom Fighters and a war that will test every fiber of his being.

Where Zuko ends and Li begins is a muddled thing indeed.

[my bookmarks: i don’t ship jetko but... but this... i did NOT see this fic coming and it hit me with the feels train... hard.]

CROSSOVERS:

In His Element(s) - WriterGreenReads

(boku no hero academia x avatar: the last airbender; gen; aang-centric; 111k words; ongoing)

“So… one more time.” Shouta pinched the bridge of his nose, regretting both waking up this morning and possibly existence in general. “You’re the spiritual avatar of an entirely different world, and in the process of keeping the peace with said spirits, originating from your… dimension, you’ve come to our world to stop the actively malicious versions of your spirits, because our world told your world that something was wrong.” The child shrugged and grinned, looking much too cheery for someone currently in handcuffs. “Pretty much!” he chirped. “Your world spirit is really polite, too. Ours was super grumpy about all the spirits escaping, but then yours said it was ok, so long as I teach her more about them on the way back!”"

Aang chases some renegade spirits across worldly borders and possibly makes some new friends along the way.

but it's a little too late - @irleggsywrites​

(haikyuu!! x bleach; kageyama x ichigo; gen; humor; 11k words; ongoing)

Kageyama's elusive "girlfriend" turns out to be a bizarre ginger-haired boy who isn't Hinata. Subsequently, he may or may not lose it at some point.

Karasuno's getting kind of suspicious of Kageyama's relationship. It seems like he always runs into trouble around this guy, and some things aren't adding up. When push comes to shove, they aren't afraid to show their protective streak, especially when it comes to their youngest.

Ichigo likes his new volleyball-playing boyfriend a lot. He just wishes ghosts would stop crashing their dates, because it's a real mood-killer.

(This is 110% crack. HQ!! focused.)

Ignis Aurum Probat - writing_addict

(fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood x how to train your dragon; gen; angst; humor; 37k words; ongoing)

Edward Elric is born early into the dead of winter, on an island twelve days North of Hopeless and a few degrees south of Freezing-To-Death. He comes into the world sickly and small--and endlessly defiant, burning with the kind of rage that can shake the foundations of the universe. The gods themselves hear that scream, that roar of fury and thunder promising to remake the world as they know it, and wonder.

Fifteen years later, Ed brings down the Night Fury that's been plaguing his people for generations, stands over it with the perfect opportunity to make the kill...and spares it. And just like that, the Norns begin weaving the fate of a hero.

[belladxne]

words are knives and often leave scars | chapter 1

[see notes for Ao3 & ff.net links] pairing: Jay/Mal words: 3.4k description: The problem is, Jay has no idea what he’s doing or why he’s doing it. The problem is, Mal doesn’t ever want to push him away but she can’t disappoint her mother either and she’s never been any good at compromise. The problem is, in a fairytale the prince would kiss the princess and they’d live happily ever after, but on this island of sinners and thrown away things, a prince of thieves kisses a princess of darkness and all it gets him is spiteful words and all it gets her is heartache

    Jay’s stomach rumbles as he traces his way through the familiar shadows of all the forgotten alleys and and unwatched side streets that make up his well-worn path to the Bargain Castle, but he’s too busy mentally cataloguing his haul for the day to pay it much mind. The whole point of going to see Mal is to filch some of her food, anyways, so his hunger isn’t more pressing than making sure he has a decent enough score to dodge another shouting match with his dad.

    He counts his acquisitions by the sounds of their clinks in his pockets, by the weight and feel of them where they press against his skin in any place he’d found to tuck them, trying to gauge if they’re enough.

    A charm bracelet he’d snagged off of one of the step-granddaughters from school—with enough polishing and a gullible enough customer, they can probably pass the cheap metal off for real silver. A somewhat grimy tricorn hat he’d triumphantly snagged off of Harry Hook’s head before he even saw Jay coming, with a real, if somewhat battered, feather sticking to the brim—and Jafar can still be scary when he wants, so Harry will have no choice but to pay a decent price for it. (Unless someone else buys it before Harry can reclaim it, a concept Jay finds equally hilarious.) A chipped and battered teacup gilded with real gold leaf, the only gold Jay’s ever seen in his life, even if it’s almost entirely worn away—it’d be worth more in a set, or with at least half the gilding not rubbed and chipped off, but the only gold he knows of on the island has to be worth something, however little of it there is. About a dozen other almost-worthless trinkets and baubles.

    So, is that going to be enough for his dad? A vaguely shiny teacup isn’t exactly the nonexistent big score that his dad’s still looking for, but it’s his best find in a long, long time, so he guesses it’ll have to be enough.

    He’s so wrapped up in his appraisal of his day’s work that he doesn’t notice the shouting at first, not until he’s close enough to recognize the infuriated, venomous voice leaking through Mal’s cracked window on the balcony above as Maleficent’s. He stops in his tracks, a healthy dose of fear trickling through his veins before he slinks a little further into the shadows, even knowing that he’s already well out of the sight and awareness of the pissed off, malevolent fairy who rules the island. Anyone with even the smallest amount of self preservation skills would be eager to remain out of Maleficent’s focus when she’s fired up, and he’s been pretty damn good at keeping himself alive and unscathed for a pretty damn long time by now.

    Even straining his ears as hard as he can, he can’t make out any of what the tyrannical woman’s shouting, but he finds that he can just barely pick up on Mal’s voice as she tries to protest. Whatever’s going down between the mother and daughter just then, it sounds bad, and he’s always been more cautious than curious—this isn’t any of his business, and he doesn’t want any part in it. He can come back tomorrow morning to try to get her mind off of it, but before then? Count him out.

    Of course, no sooner does he decide that than the sound of Mal’s bedroom door slamming booms through the slightly opened window, and it’s not a moment later that Mal is suddenly shoving her window open and climbing out in a flurry of forceful, rough movements. Jay watches as her backlit silhouette half-stumbles to the parapet of her balcony in an apparent rush to put as much distance between herself and the argument as possible, slamming her hands down onto the stone and hanging her head.

    Jay worries his bottom lip between his teeth, weighing the odds that he’s missed his chance to bounce, and avoid this whole situation.

    But it’s not like Mal knows that he’s here, and he knows his skillset well enough to know that he can get just about anywhere without being spotted—anywhere including away from this highly awkward, messy scene. He edges a foot back the way he came, then starts another step away as he turns—

    The problem with his plan is, Jay wasn’t counting on how distracted seeing Mal like this—so completely opposite from cool and collected in a way that she doesn’t even get when she’s well and truly furious—would make him, and while he was counting on not being spotted, he wasn’t thinking hard enough about not being heard.

    All it takes is one movement that’s slightly too quick, and he finds himself wincing as the teacup in his pocket clinks against a tiny mint tin which clinks against a plastic brooch which clinks against the step-granddaughter’s charm bracelet—and when he freezes in place, they all take the opportunity to jangle together merrily.

    It’s a precise little chain reaction of fuck you, Jay, and he watches as Mal’s head snaps up and swivels to look towards the shadows in his direction. Well, shit. He’s officially in the awkward, messy scene now.

        “Jay?” she practically demands into the dark, and the choked, unsteady sound of her voice sends ice spiking into his veins—because Mal doesn’t sound like that, Mal never sounds like whatever the hell that is, so whatever just went down with her mom must have been bad. Really bad, and now she knows he’s here, so there’s no creeping back into the shadows to pretend he’d never seen or heard any of this. Unless she decides she was just hearing things—

    An impatient huff pierces the silence above him and cuts off his thought, and Mal’s voice is still uneven when she snaps, “Are you coming up or not?”

    Honestly, at this point, he doesn’t know why he ever expects to get away with anything when it comes to Mal; she knows him, and his habits, way too well. He reconsiders his option to slink back into the night and act like none of this ever happened—it’s not like she’d hold it against him; they’re rotten kids, the both of them, and she wouldn’t expect him to be invested in her situation right now any more than he’d expect her to be invested in a similar one of his.

    But he can’t keep the strain in her voice from echoing through his head, and an uncomfortable feeling tightens in his chest, and something about that feeling has him moving towards the Bargain Castle and, invested or not, reaching to scale the wall the same way he’s done at least a couple hundred times before, hunger completely forgotten. He’s already here and he’s already caught, he justifies, so this may as well happen.

    He’s swinging himself up over the parapet of her balcony with practiced ease in no time, and he tries his absolute hardest to not look as uncomfortable as he feels when he proceeds to lean back against the cool stone of the low wall. It’s quickly beginning to occur to him now that he’s up here that he has absolutely no idea what he’s doing here or what he thought he was going to do once he made his climb, and that he probably should have split when he had the chance.

    Mal’s facing away from him, her arms crossed as she looks out towards Auradon, and he can’t make out her expression in the dark as she takes noticeably unsteady breaths. Still though, he can tell she doesn’t have much intention of speaking first, which leaves this on him. He’s regretting a lot right now.

        “Sooo...” he tries lamely, hoping with some amount of desperation that he’ll find the rest of his sentence along the way. But as he opens his mouth to say who in the hell knows what, Mal turns to look at him, and the words die in his throat as the light from her window hits half of her face.

    She’s not exactly crying—he’s pretty sure if he caught Mal of all people actually crying it would be, like, The End Times or something—but her face is slightly blotchy and red, all the more noticeable for how pale she is, and her eyes are red-rimmed and so full it looks like it’s taking every single ounce of her willpower to keep tears from spilling over. Which, honestly, is, like, world-shakingly, pants-shittingly terrifying once it sinks in, because Mal is possibly the most infuriatingly, obstinately willful person he’s ever met, and if even her unending determination is barely enough to hold the tears back then he doesn’t even know what the world’s coming to.

    Forgetting in his shock that he’s supposed to be indifferent and detached right now, Jay gapes as he pushes off from the parapet and takes a step towards her. “Jeez, Mal, what the hell was all that with your mom about?” If it’s bad enough to turn the Mal he knows into this, he’s not sure he really even wants to know, but apparently the rest of him isn’t on the same page as his mind on this, because he can’t stop himself from asking.

        “The usual,” she tries to scoff as she turns away from the light again, but the sound is… off. Not right. And Jay can’t help the skeptical quirk to his eyebrow, because the usual absolutely does not result in this.

        “Yeah, so, I guess that’s why you’re—”

        “I mean,” Mal cuts him off, not even letting him finish expressing his doubt, “she’s always said I’m not evil enough to live up to her name, that’s not new, so, whatever.” (Her tone really doesn’t sound very convincing on the ‘whatever’ front.) “And it’s not like this is the first time she’s told me she thinks I’m turning out weak and soft, so, you know, I’m used to that.” (Except it’s never affected her like this before.) “And, I mean, I’ve always known she finds me a huge disappointment, because it’s not like she’s above reminding me at every turn that at my age she was out raging hell and the worst I’ve managed is graffiti and to fuck up the one right thing I ever did with an act of kindness, so I know that, I have known that, it’s fine.” (It absolutely does not sound fine.)

    Jay keeps his eyes trained on her face even though he can’t make it out in the darkness, working his jaw as he tries to piece together what exactly has Mal in this state and—well, why he even cares. Not that he does care. It’s not like villains do that sort of thing.

    Even villains who couldn’t bring themselves to steal from their friends when it mattered. Even villains whose friends did selfless things to save each other. Those were just flukes, or whatever.

    Mal uncrosses her arms and lays her palms against the parapet again, Jay watching her every movement as she does. “It’s just time to grow the fuck up, I guess. I thought—I told myself, I mean, despite everything she said, her curse couldn’t hurt me. So that meant—I’d proven myself, even if I didn’t bring the scepter back. I just had to wait for her to see that I had.”

    He hears her catch a sharp breath that shouldn’t feel like it makes something clamp around his heart but it does, before she leans her head back and turns her gaze skyward. Her voice gets quiet and it shakes and the whole thing makes him uneasy. “Fuck, I was so stupid. Mom’s never going to see past my dad and she’s never going to see past what I did to get the scepter and she’s never going to see me and it shouldn’t matter because I know what touching the scepter proved but I just—I just thought—if I didn’t give up and I gave it some time—”

    Her voice catches suddenly as she whirls on him—he doesn’t remember closing this much distance, when the hell did he get so close to her?—and when the light catches her face he sees her eyes are wide both in alarm and accusation. Like she’d forgotten he was here, almost, and she’s blaming him for the fact that she told him so much. And he’s… completely at a loss.

        “Mal,” he starts, because… because he can’t just say nothing. He doesn’t know what he can tell her, because Jay’s never been like Mal—he’s always been a realist and maybe a bit of a pessimist and he’s always known that they were never going to be enough for their delusional parents and he’s made his peace with it. He can’t tell her she just needs more time for her mom to come around, because, sure, villain kids lie through their teeth about a lot of things, but not to make someone feel better.

    He shakes his head. If lying will make her feel better right now, then he’ll just… have to tell the truth. “Whatever she said, it’s crap, and you know it.”

        “Yeah,” Mal scoffs doubtfully, her gaze tracking upwards and away from his face, and her eyes are less watery, if only barely. “Sure.”

        “I’m serious, Mal,” he insists, and if his tone is colored with annoyance, it’s only because he doesn’t think she’s above this, he knows it. Mal’s never given a shit what anyone else thinks. “You’re the scummiest person I know. And not by a little bit.”

    She opens her mouth like she’s going to argue, and he interrupts her with a pointed look. “You literally locked Evie in a closet full of live bear traps because of a grudge from when you were six. You would have beat the shit out of our principal if Evie hadn’t stopped you. You have people running scared at school and groveling at your feet on the streets, and if you told someone to jump off a cliff, they’d be too scared of you not to do it.” He barely feels like he’s exaggerating there. “You’re mean, Mal. You’re awful. You’re bad news, and everyone knows it. If your mom doesn’t think you’re every bit as vicious and evil as she is, it’s only because she’s never seen you in action. So fuck her, and fuck whatever she said to you.”

    And… that’s it. That’s his big speech. That’s all he’s got to say, it’s all he’s going to say, and now it’s up to Mal to take it or leave it.

    He watches as her brow furrows and her mouth falls open like she’s going to say something, but then she falters, and her mouth snaps shut again. She works her jaw for a moment, staring at him with her eyebrows drawn low, before she finally seems to find any words at all. “Why…” Her voice fails her, and it’s another couple moments of her averting her gaze before she seems to be able to meet his eyes and try again.

        “Why are you being so...” She gestures vaguely as she trails off, because she can’t exactly finish the sentence with ‘nice.’ That’d be about the worst thing to say to someone on this island, and aside from that, describing to someone in detail all the ways that they’re a shitty person isn’t exactly something you can describe as nice. Just another reason he never wants to live in Auradon, where the goal is to be nice to everyone.

    Her hand falls back down to her side after her gesture, and she looks away, towards her room, her mouth drawing into a frown, and Jay finds himself coming to the uncomfortable conclusion that he probably has to answer. Why is he doing any of this? Saying any of this?

        “Because...” His brow slowly furrows and he’s not sure where he’s going with this. He can’t say he cares, because he shouldn’t. Doesn’t, not really. Isle kids don’t care about each other. And she wouldn’t want to hear it if he did. But… he has to say something, and even if he’s not sure of the whole truth, he may as well not start lying now.

        “I mean, Mal, we’re still basically kids, and you’ve already got everyone our age and half the people older than us wrapped around your finger and scrambling to stay out of your way and doing whatever it takes to avoid having you pissed at them. It’s obvious you’re gonna be running this joint some day, just as ruthlessly as your mom does.” She’s still looking away from him, so he lifts a hand to her shoulder—just to make her look at him, that’s all—and a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he continues, “And I’m smart enough to know I should be on your good side when that happens.”

    Mal stares at him, her expression hard and her lips pressed together tightly, and he meets her gaze because he doesn’t really have that much choice; he’s already gotten himself into this mess. Her eyes trace over his face like she’s searching for something, but he has no idea what it is, and he has no idea why some part of him is actually kind of terrified she might find it, whatever it might be. It’s all he can do to hold onto his flippant, self-satisfied expression instead of squirming under her gaze.

    Finally, though, Mal’s shoulders slump and her expression softens before it crumples into something that just looks resigned and tired. She crosses her arms and lets her head drop forwards until her forehead hits his chest with a muffled thump, and Jay blinks, honestly thrown as his smirk finally fades and something more confused takes over his expression.

    It becomes apparent after a moment or two that Mal’s… not moving any time soon, and his hand is still resting on her shoulder, and he’s not really sure why he does it, but after a brief internal debate he decidedly feels like he lost, he hesitantly slides his hand around to her back.

    And when she doesn’t pull away or try to shrug him off, he wraps his other arm around her, too, trying to figure out why doing that feels more like wrapping his arms around a trenchcoat stuffed with venomous snakes than around his partner in crime. But vague terror or not, Mal barely moves, and she doesn’t seem to be particularly bothered by this, so… he tightens his arms around her with a fair amount of uncertainty, because this entire night has already been weird as hell, so this might as well happen, right?

    And he tries not to focus on the fact that them standing here like this with her forehead pressed to his chest and his hands resting on her back feels a lot like comforting her, because villain kids don’t comfort each other. Or on the fact that the uncomfortable tugging feeling in his chest as her hair tickles his chin feels a lot like empathizing, because villain kids don’t empathize with each other.

    The problem is, when he does force his focus away from those thoughts, there’s not a lot left to distract himself with. Just the fact that he can’t stop thinking about what it’d feel like if he pulled her even closer, and moved his hand up to thread through her hair, and tucked the side of his face against the top of her head, and—and he’s gotta stop.

    But that’s just his inner flirt thinking these things, right? It’s not like he actually wants to do any of that with Mal. He’s always gotten his kicks from stealing hearts, it’s practically a hobby, so really, he’d be thinking this kind of garbage with any girl if they were standing this close. It’s not because it’s Mal, and it’s not because he really wants to.

    Right?

[maryofone]

One Room

The Me Too war is raging in the US right now because of these Kavanaugh hearings, and it’s making me think a lot about men and women. Men VS women, specifically. It’s been a crazy transformative year for men and women and how we relate to each other, and if anything’s clear, we still have a TON of shit to sort through. It feels like we’re in the first really difficult stages of change, full of anger and hostility and shit breaking down before our eyes. Things are so far from being fixed, but at least they seem to be breaking in the right direction. SO far from being fixed though.

Right now all I see in our society is angry women and defiant men. I understand the anger on our side. Women are just fucking DONE with generation after generation of being the subservient sex. Any group of humans would eventually say ‘enough is enough’ to that shit. Being told we’re the pretty ones, the delicate ones, the ones that stay quiet and let the boys do the real work was going to take its toll eventually. An explosion of female rage was inevitable in our society, and now we’re IN IT. And as much as I understand (and genuinely feel) the anger on our side, I understand the men’s defiance too. Hear me out though! When it comes to the men who don’t seem to be hearing the cries of the Me Too movement, I don’t like their reactions and certainly don’t think they’re helpful, but I understand why they’re happening. People, by nature, have a hard time keeping an open mind to an argument if they’re being screamed at. Regardless of how much the person who is screaming deserves to be screaming, whomever is being screamed at is just less likely to see their point of view. I’m not basing this on any research of course, I’m just thinking about what it’s like to be a person. So even though my rage spikes when I see these men denying the legitimacy of a woman’s story, I can still see where this infuriating defiance is coming from.

Right now our task as a society is to make sure that women’s voices are being heard by men. THAT is the goal we’re trying to reach here and evidently it’s not as easy as it sounds. I have zero practical solutions for such a challenge, but if I was some sort of omnipotent genie or god of some kind, I would sure love to get every man and every woman in one room together, so I could say my piece to both sexes, with everyone listening at once. 

To the women I would say:

Hey girls. We’re fucking pissed right? Yeah, I don’t blame us. I cried the weirdest kind of tears watching the Kavanaugh hearings yesterday. I once got spit on by a guy walking past me on the sidewalk and those tears felt similar, which I guess makes sense. But anyway. I don’t want to tell you to calm down. I think we’ve been calm too long, and that’s why nothing has changed until now. But as we continue to rage against the machine for the next few years, let’s remember that hating all men and shutting down their words isn’t the answer either. We’re mad because we haven’t been listened to by men, and for the sake of integrity I’d rather not do the same thing back to them. Screaming doesn’t invite conversation, and conversation is the only thing that’s going to fix us.

To the men I would say (in the calmest voice I can measure):

Hey guys, here’s the deal. I know that none of you singlehandedly caused our society to be structured generations ago to keep women oppressed and men flourishing, but have you ever really taken a minute and considered what that would feel like? To be treated as less capable, less smart and less worthy just because of the junk you were born with? It would probably be pretty frustrating right? It’s not YOUR fault, because you were just born here a few decades ago, living in the society you were dealt, so no one is blaming you, but you have to agree it’s kind of a bullshit system for women on a lot of counts, right? And without a tsunami of anger and resentment barreling towards you, would you agree that our society could use just a little rejig to even the playing field?

I can’t be the only person in the midst of this Me Too movement who fantasizes about us all having one calm, collective conversation, amongst all of society, that results in a productive solution to fix our equality problem. Wouldn’t that be amazing? All of mankind and womankind in one room together, at one table together, maybe with a catered lunch, calmly sorting out a new plan for society? Sadly such a room cannot be constructed, and this is but a fantasy. The closest thing we have is the internet, which definitely includes all men and all women talking, but everyone’s in a room by themselves. And that shit won’t change anything.

UPDATE: I still stand by what I wrote here, but I did see something this week that does challenge my argument for calm discourse being our only route to real change. Watching those two women corner a senator in an elevator and scream in his face for five minutes about voting for Kavanaugh DID cause some change. You could literally see him changing his mind in real time. So I don’t know. Maybe calm conversation isn’t the answer. Maybe we do all have to keep screaming until something changes.

[terryblount]

Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom Review

A friend and fellow gaming writer once told me the worst part of this job is when you have to review something the community absolutely loves, but you just cannot seem to like it. The Steam store page is plastered with blue thumbs pointing up, Metacritic boasts a whopping 86%, but, somehow, you just cannot relate to the masses. Well folks, with Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom, that day has arrived on my PC.

Let me be clear that I do not think Monster Boy is completely bad. This game still shows that rare gem of innovation you only get from the AA and indie scene, and it can be really fun to play. It is obvious that the developers, FDG Entertainment, are deeply in touch with the strengths of their source material.

Meet the protagonist, Jin, except he barely stays in this form throughout the entire game.

In truth, my objection to Monster Boy’s overwhelmingly positive reception lies in how this game clearly runs into some infuriating moments of inconsistency. The delicate balance this game holds between its unique blend of Metroidvania and platformer components too often gives way to seriously frustrating moments. I feel like I spent a little too much of my play time gnashing my teeth.

More than a Tenacious D Song

  Monster Boy has quite the legacy behind it, and you can trace its primary influence all the way back to SEGA’s Wonder Boy that came out during the mid-80’s. Since then, Wonder Boy has passed between the hands of several different developers, and every subsequent studio that worked with the IP contributed at least one new gameplay mechanic that stuck.

Now the torch has been handed to a German-based studio who have added their own bits to this Frankenstein monster of an IP, and FDG Entertainment has done a great job at using Monster Boy’s mixed heritage to make the gameplay relevant again. What we have here is a game that is neither pure Metroidvania nor thoroughbred platformer, but instead draws from the strengths of both.

Monster Boy’s story is so simple that the title is practically a spoiler. Once upon time in a mystical kingdom, someone called Uncle Nabu unexpectedly goes nuttier than squirrel poop, and starts flying around on a broomstick like a witch.  In a moment of naughty sorcery, he ends up spreading a strange curse across an entire kingdom which turns all the inhabitants into humanoid animals.

You can actually talk to some NPC’s during gameplay, and I must say they seem rather laid-back about being turned into bipedal rats, sheep and owls. Perhaps they don’t mind having fleas, or licking their own butts? Thankfully, a boy named Jin chooses not to spend the rest of this life as a piggy, and swears to put an end to his uncle’s antics.

While being a swashbuckling swine (complete with eye patch) has its perks – such as lightning attacks, stun attacks, fire balls and the ability to sniff out treasures and so on – our hero soon discovers that he has bitten off more than your average hog can chew. To reverse his uncle’s curse, Jin must unite five magical orbs hidden in jungles, caves, and even at the bottom of the ocean. Oh, and each orb is protected by a giant monster (i.e. boss fight).

Once Jin gets his porky hooves on the first orb, however, he inherits its power, which gives him the choice between more than one animal shape! Being a frog suddenly makes reaching the underwater orb a real possibility, and being a slippery snake means small crawlspaces are no challenge at all (and, for some reason, crystals light up dark spaces when you spew poison on them).

Paws and claws

  My reason for saying that Monster Boy feels like a blend of genres is because it plays out like a Metroidvania game in its progression style, yet the snappy movement and combat mechanics lean more towards a platformer experience. It is particularly in the latter where FDG Entertainment’s experience in developing physics-based, mobile games really shows.

This game is full of great little ideas for platforming. You use the ice sword to create a makeshift platform.

With regards to the Metroidvania elements, Monster Boy brings back what was established in 1992’s Wonder Boy III: The Dragon’s Trap. This game introduced a sprawling map to the series that gradually opens up to the player as they gain the ability to transform into different animals.

The world map, which bears a striking resemblance to the maps from Super Metroid.

Whereas games such as Dead Cells or Hollow Knight imbue the player with weapons or abilities to assist with progression through the map, Monster Boy takes this process further by asking the player to transition to an entirely different character. The player will ultimately be able to change into a total of five different animals after they have collected all of the orbs.

I already mentioned the little pig who is a long range projectile specialist as his special attack, and also a treasure sniffer. He can hit enemies from a distance during combat or trigger switches in puzzles, plus he makes the most adorable little fart every time he eats an upgrade!

Piggy doing his thing. You can switch between several different ammo types. Boomerangs must be caught if you hope to keep them.

The pig sinks like a stone underwater though, which is where the frog comes in. He is super agile below the surface, and he can use his extendable tongue to hang or pull things which become a central traversal tool later in the game. Then there is the muscular lion that represents the tank of the bunch. He can dash upwards which is particularly helpful if your jump needs a bit of extra height, or to bash through brittle walls when going sideways.

The snake specialises in sliding up and down non-horizontal surfaces which is pretty neat, but his venom-spitting attack became somewhat redundant for me towards the end of the game. The dragon… well he flies and belches out fire pretty much par for the course. It is with the dragon where Monster Boy took the oppertunity to introduce a few brutally difficult shoot-‘em-up sections against enemies in the sky.

The snake… which, for some reason, is really sticky. Then again, I have never seen a pig throw fire balls either.

Monster Boy combines all these abilities into a single, cohesive experience that results in some excellent platforming gameplay. The player can switch between characters on the fly to combine their abilities for solving puzzles, defeating bosses, or to reach secret areas. Now factor in that you can augment many of their abilities with armour or weapons, and you have gameplay with some serious potential.

Why has this water dash ability not featured in more games!? It’s awesome!

A Thing of Beauty

  What will really bowl over newcomers and seasoned fans alike are, of course, the visuals. This game is so vibrant, so colourful, so vivid, that you will probably see imprints of the screen left behind on your corneas after closing your eyes.

I mentioned earlier how the gameplay is a fusion, which could also be said for the visuals. You can tell that the art style has an unmistakable Eastern foundation in character design and certain animations. Yet, there is obviously also a Western influence involved with the visual aesthetics, and they work together here in a truly slick and beautiful manner.

This game could probably fix stuck pixels in any monitor.

Monster Boy’s lively visuals have been complimented by an equally jolly soundtrack that combines upbeat, almost arcade-like tunes with the classic little sound effects from 80’s platformers when you pick up coins, run over a checkpoint, find an upgrade, etc. This game is the very auditory and visual embodiment of happiness, which, on a personal level, was a welcome contrast to the dark and sombre JRPG’s I always seem to be stuck in.

A Thing of Anger

  After reading all that, you will be excused for forgetting that I actually ended up disliking Monster Boy. So let me try to elaborate on where this game lost me, and thus explain my surprise for why so many reviews actually omitted these issues upon the game’s launch on the Nintendo Switch in 2018.

The overarching problem I had with this game can only be described as Monster Boy’s tendency to repeatedly throw inconsistent difficulty spikes at the player. If you add up all the time I struggled my arse off just to get past one enemy or a particularly tricky jump, it would almost rival all the rest of the gameplay. To put it another way, Monster Boy likes to pull ‘dick moves’.

One of the many infuriating sections the game makes you fumble around in the dark. This sucks.

First off, the checkpoints are rather terrible. This means that, if you die, you will have to play entire sections over and over and over and over just to make it to the part you are actually struggling with. The repetitive nature of these moments already started sucking a lot of fun out of the experience.

On top of this, the game features some moments of awful enemy placement. For example, during one awesome level I found myself in a sloping and tilting shipwreck, which means I had to compensate for things rolling around. This was fun until I reached a simple section where there were some bats hanging from the ceiling that swoop down onto the player with their attacks.

What should have been one brief moment in a series of challenges took me nearly twenty minutes to clear because you have to jump upwards towards the bats to get past them. Unfortunately, the character is completely vulnerable during the jump animation, and it doesn’t help that the shield in the game only seems to work when it feels like it.

Two hits from the bats and you are dead, and there are four of them to get past. Did I mention you will also be placed right at THE BEGINNING of the sequence if you die? It is impossible to regard this as an engaging challenge when such moments just smack so clearly of poor level design. This was by no means an isolated incident, and I can make a long list if you like.

Doing ‘shrooms! This is the second boss.

The boss fights, on the other hand, are awesome as you will use the different animals and each one’s unique ability to conquer the huge behemoths. However, I again found myself screaming “dude, what the hell!?” after I realised this game utterly refuses to replenish your health (even after a boss fight).

Matter of fact, you will always restart with the amount of health you had when passing through the last checkpoint. This may sound like a minor gripe, especially considering that the player is given a teleport staff to reach portals near health refill shops.

Yet this is a hard sell for every single time I find my character low on health and in a sticky situation. A well-placed platforming segment or enemy encounter can still be fun even if it is extremely challenging. However, you want to play in the game, and not against the game when you start off these moments already handicapped with half your health.

Note my health in the top left corner. That is what the game gave me upon re-spawning, and to think I first approached this boss with full health.

Last issue worth mentioning is that some puzzles – particularly those that enable the player to progress – were not that great. I felt like the solution came to me through trial and error or just blind luck rather than requiring me to rack my brains. I particularly questioned why the developers deemed it wise to make the player literally feel around in the dark as an idea for certain puzzles. Like I sad, dick move.

Metroid in vain

  What is so weird about Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom is how these really abysmal and frustrating moments appear right in the middle of truly great segments of gameplay. Just as you start getting comfortable in the momentum of your game… your serenity comes crashing to a halt as the game throws a totally pointless curve-ball at you.

Perhaps the devs in charge of level design went on a coffee break during the final crunch for the game release date. Maybe it was the office rookies that were given the heavy lifting while the main level and gameplay designers were smoking a cigarette.

I will still give this game a recommendation because I must confess that I am not exactly good at platforming or Metroidvania games, so perhaps the fault is mine. Note, this is a very, VERY tentative recommendation, but I think this game has some truly innovative ideas that might just sustain players through moments when their molar teeth are smashing together.

Beautiful

Great platforming gameplay

Variety of locations

Boss fights are cool

Very inconsistent

Awful check point placement

Obnoxious level designs

Mediocre puzzle sections

        Playtime: 21 hours total. For the single player campaign

Computer Specs: Windows 10 64-bit computer using Nvidia GTX 1070, i5 4690K CPU, 16GB RAM – Played using an Xbox One Controller

The post Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom Review appeared first on DSOGaming.

Monster Boy and the Cursed Kingdom Review published first on https://touchgen.tumblr.com/

[maxwellknowsitall-blog]

Sonic Mania is bad and here’s why:

Since its release, Sonic Mania has been the darling baby of everyone who played sonic in their childhood. I am not one of those people. Sonic Mania baffles me, Sonic Mania infuriates me, Sonic Mania makes me question my sanity. The problems are manifold, and all of them are leftovers from the original Sonic games. It’s a strange world where we on one hand laud the innovations of Shovel Knight, which took old mechanics and revamped the systems and mechanics that surrounded them into a sleek, new, satisfying package, and reprimand Yooka-Laylee for sticking to the original formula of its genre, including all the genres original issues, yet on the other hand fall head over heels for Sonic Mania, a game which fixes literally none of the problems of the original Sonic games. Some people would argue this is because the original Sonic games have very few problems to fix, Some people would be wrong. The issue is that if you are already used to the problems of Sonic, that is if you have already incorporated dealing with these problems into the way you play, the impact of them is felt less, and any resulting impact can be explained away by nostalgia. However, the fact of the matter is that Sonic Mania is just a badly designed game, there’s no getting around that. Sorry guys.

Let’s go through a few of the problems, starting with the most famous one.

Sonic’s controls are built for speed, while Sonic’s levels are built for exploration.

This is the one. People have been arguing about it for generations: ‘Sonic is a game about speed, but everything is trying to slow you down’ one side howls. ‘No, Sonic is a game about exploration, and speed is just the reward you get for being good at the game’ replies the other side. As is often the case in such situation, the answer is found partly on both sides. Controlling Sonic feels like you should be going fast, there’s a wind up time on Sonic as he moves forward, you have no real movement abilities outside of a single jump, and 20% of the time you’re hitting segments of the levels that shoot you around at ludicrous speeds. The problem is that the other 80% the levels are filled with traps, secret rooms and paths, and enemies positioned so that they’re impossible to avoid unless you’re either walking past them, or already know where they are before you approach them. This is method of thinking is reflected in Sonic’s ring mechanic. On one hand rings are everywhere, so the only time you’re in any real danger is during boss fights; on the other hand, this means that literally every level of Sonic Mania is littered with obstacles that can, and will, kill you instantly. This is probably the mechanically dissonant aspect of the gameplay that even seasoned players are most likely to complain about. The result is gameplay that’s a complete and utter mess, you’re either never in danger, or dead instantly, you’re either getting hurt because you’re going fast, or running out of time because you’re trying to explore a complicated level with your limited amount of control. Of course, if you’re played Sonic games as a child, where this kind of design was the norm and you had little choice because that was how you played games back then, this type of design probably feels pretty nostalgic, especially for people who have been starved for classic Sonic for years, but for new players, it’s an infuriating mess. Which brings us to:

Bonus and special stages are a hindrance to anyone trying to learn the levels, or attempting to become familiar with the game’s controls

So you’re playing Sonic for the first time, you’re in a complete unfamiliar level, with a relatively clunky set of controls you don’t really understand how to use effectively yet, and every few minutes you’re interrupted to do a bonus stage or special stage. Now, to be fair both these types of stages are pretty fun to do, from that point of view they’re a plus. From the point of view of trying to get your bearings in a maze like stage, they’re a terrible idea. First you’re given a completely new set of controls, one for each of the two types (both of which control a lot better than the base game by the way), and then you spend between 30 seconds to a few minutes are succeeding or failing at said stage. By the time you’re returned to the main game you have to adjust to the timings of every mechanic and enemy in the stage you were just in, and that’s if you remember where you were actually going before you did a bonus stage. Now, if you’re a seasoned player, these bonus stages are far less of a problem. You’d already know the bonus stages from Sonic 3 and knuckles, and you’d already be familiar with the clunky controls and maze like topography of each level, most of which are callbacks to older levels from previous games. But from the view point of someone just getting into Sonic Mania, the bonus stages and special stages only serve to make a bad experience more confusing. ‘Just skip them�� I hear you saying, and yeah, that’s what I do now, I’ve given up on doing either of the two types of extra stages, but that effectively kills all reason to explore any given stage. I have enough trouble just trying to get to the boss at the end of each act without instantly dying to a random obstacle I didn’t know about. Which leads me to the biggest issue of Sonic Mania, at least in my opinion.

Bosses and lives are broken, yo

Sonic’s design is odd, but given time I could learn to like it, maybe even love it. The same goes for the bonus stages. Once I had played through a level a few times and knew the layout I’d probably try harder to find all the secrets. But this, this is the one that kills this game.

Bosses are either too easy or too hard. The boss of act one from Oil Ocean comes to mind, he’s a mechanic. He’s probably the easiest boss in the game. You can kill him in under ten seconds. But you don’t know that the first time you go up against him, you’re probably a bit hesitant. Let enough time pass in the stage and the floor will start jumping up, and if you’re standing in the two thirds of the screen along the edge… you get instantly killed by spikes in the ceiling you can’t see until this moment. Almost every boss has elements of this, they’re either ridiculous easy, the act one boss of Hydrocity Zone literally only requires you to press and hold one button a few times; or obtuse to figure out with one or more ways of killing you instantly, a good example of which is the act two boss from Flying Battery Zone. Now, this wouldn’t necessarily be as infuriating as it is if it weren’t for the fact that you’re still dealing with lives in Sonic Mania. By default you start with three lives in Sonic Mania, that’s three deaths before you’re punished with a game over screen. Now, if you will, imagine a typical play experience for someone who’s not familiar with Sonic Mania. They’ll probably lose at least one life just from playing through each stage, maybe more. They could try to either explore to find 1-ups or be extra careful to collect 100 total rings for a free extra life, the first of which is contradictory to trying to surviving unless you accidentally stumble upon one, and the second of which leads to frankly dull gameplay. Then they get to a boss, the boss is either far too easy and quickly defeated, or gets you killed several times just by sheer virtue being obtuse and having tonnes of shots at instantly killing the player. Either way several more lives are lost just to the learning experience, and that isn’t even including actually fighting the boss. If you haven’t guessed, that’s probably already one, if not several game overs. And here’s the kicker: You’re sent all the way back to the first act of a stage, when you get a game over. This means you could expend all your effort on getting to an act two boss, only to die while trying to understand the boss’ mechanics and being sent all the way back to beginning of the stage. To round it all off, the giant rings needed for the chaos emerald stages aren’t even replenished on a game over, so even if you were actively trying to hunt them down, you get no further attempts at doing so by getting a game over. You have literally nothing to do while making your way back to the boss. This has been my gameplay loop for literally every singly stage of Sonic Mania, and yeah, I’m not familiar with the mechanics, but that’s not a fun gameplay loop regardless of how experienced you are with the Sonic franchise. This is why shovel knight realized that the concept of lives and game overs were a relic of an older age of games and had no real place in modern gaming, where you can easily implement a far more engaging way to dynamically punish the player.

I play Sonic Mania in sessions of fifteen minutes at a time before I get so frustrated with struggling with the game that I have to put it down and cool off a while. That’s the tragedy of Sonic Mania, I really want to play it. The art style if fantastic, the aesthetic never stops being fun, the soundtrack is phenomenal; but every part of the game that involves actually playing the damn thing is an awful, awful mess. I am only half way through the game so far, I’m not sure I want to keep playing, I’m definitely not convinced that the satisfaction I’ll get out of Sonic Mania will be equal to or greater than the amount of time I have to spent on overcoming its stupid, arbitrary, instant-kill-based difficulty.