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an-idyllic-novelist · 10 months

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Hotaru Haganezuka with Chise!reader headcanons 🎐🪴

Warnings: OOC, aged up!reader (will be in their late twenties), foul language from Hotaru, mentions of enslavement, violence, blood, and the setting takes place five years before the main plot of Kimetsu no Yaiba/Demon Slayer, so Hotaru will be 32 years old instead of his canon age, 37.

If any of the following warnings might be a potential trigger, please hit the back button on your mobile device or computer and read something else.

This is a two-part collaboration with @deathmetalunicorn1 featuring the character!reader as Chise Hatori from the anime/manga series, The Ancient Magus’ Bride.

Our inspiration came from the magnificent Haganezuka x reader created by @yuki2sksksk. If you guys haven't check it out, do so because it is amazing and deserve more recognition! :)

Before we begin, here a few words from my dear colleague @deathmetalunicorn1:

"I hope you all enjoy the fruits of our combined hard work on this project. Please stay safe and don't hate us for the cliffhanger :P

With that being said, sit back, relax, and enjoy! ;)

PART TWO LINK IS HERE

PART THREE LINK IS HERE

PART ONE: HITSUZEN

Being in a romantic relationship with Hotaru Haganezuka is not simple, even after five years of marriage. [First Name] would not have it any other way, though, because this temperamental man makes each passing second worth it. If she was given the choice to go back in time and start all over again, she would still reach out to the swordsmith.

The two of them were acquaintances in the beginning, connected through Kanamori. [First Name] was one of two medicine peddlers who have set up shop in the village, selling their wares and providing treatment to ailing patients. Unfortunately, the chief was an occasional client due to his underlying medical conditions and old age, but thankfully his tenacity allowed him to bounce back to his cheerful self with the proper medicines. Haganezuka was the one who picked up the elder’s prescription when the latter caught a spring cold.

Their first meeting had been…awkward to say the least.

She had been in the back wrapping up Lord Tecchin’s order in thick brown paper to ensure the corked, glass bottles were protected if the package accidentally fell on the ground when she heard the front door slide open, followed by an annoyed voice calling out if anyone was around. [First Name] promised to be right out, grabbing the parcel and walking quickly to the shop’s front. There, Haganezuka stood; with his mask on, she couldn’t tell if she kept him waiting too long.

“Oi. You’re the medicine woman?” He asked curtly. Kanamori mentioned before that annoyed or slightly pissed off pitch in his voice is normal, so she didn’t mind it and bowed to him.

“I am.” She introduced herself with a polite smile, holding up the package. “You’re here to deliver this to Lord Tecchin, yes?” Haganezuka nodded. She gave it to him as she bowed to him again, wishing the swordsman to travel safely. He left without saying another word….and it was a good thing that he did.

If he could see them, he’d probably scream at the ayakashi hovering just outside of the shop. The wind chimes were enchanted to prevent them from coming any further and causing havoc. But it looked like [First Name] would have to ask the woodcutter to make at least three more to cover the shop’s outside perimeter. Maybe throwing salt twice a day, in the morning and in the evening, might help too.

These ayakashi, yokai, and the more friendlier ‘neighbors’, have been here since the dawn of time. They exist in the void, in stories passed down from one generation to the next. If they manifest in the human world, feeding on negative emotions, it was [First Name]’s job to purify and eliminate them.

But they were drawn to her like a moth to the flame because they know…they know this medicine seller isn’t entirely human nor a demon created by Muzan. [First Name] was something else, something she didn’t want others to find out or else she’d have to move again. She was really starting to enjoy living here, at least the outside of it while her shop was located a block away from the udon stand.

Everyone was nice to her, and the kids, at least some of them, liked to learn about the herbs she collected or how to use them. The swordsmen and their spouses would always greet her, asking how her day was going or to be careful on her next trip to search for herbs in the nearby mountains. [First Name] prayed that this monotonous yet peaceful life will continue.

Haganezuka had never noticed the medicine woman until he picked up the old man’s prescription. She wasn’t unusual in appearance or demeanor; [Hair Color] tresses falling past her neck, pulled back in a low ponytail, limpid [Eye Color] orbs. Coiled around her neck on a leather cord was a polished stone necklace with a natural hole in the center of it. She wore a dark green kimono with a yellow obi sprinkled with white spots, the color of the obi matching the ginkgo leaves of her black haori. She wore the same outfit every day. Definitely not unusual unless you’re from a noble house or rich enough to have more than two sets of clothes.

That brat Kotetsu seemed to like her well enough; he’d seen him and some of the other kids help her gather herbs in exchange for sweets, but she didn’t let them go too far in the mountains, only at the foot or surrounding fields. She acted as a mentor or chaperone to them, patting their heads when they did a good job and stepping in when things got too heated between them, whether it’s about finding the correct herb or something else a kid would be willingly to fight over with a friend.

The other villagers seemed to like her too. Even Kanamori and his wife, and old man Tecchin. He’d hear snippets of their conversation with the medicine woman, like how Kanamori said these words to her:

“Good morning, [Last Name]! Are you heading to the mountains again?”

“Mm. It shouldn’t take me too long this time though. Morinozuka will be giving birth soon, so I’ll be making another patch of pain reliever when I get back. How is your wife, Kanamori? Is she feeling well today?”

“Much better, thank you!” Kanamori said. “She would like it if you’d join us for dinner this evening.”

“Oh. I don’t to impose -”

“We insist!”

“....All right. I’ll close up early once the work is finished.”

“Wonderful! See you then, [Last Name]!” Kanamori waved good-bye to the medicine woman as she turned away and headed towards the gates, a large lacquered box strapped to her back.

No, he was not spying on them from behind a building. He just happened to be passing by, nothing more than that!

Honestly, Haganezuka isn’t sure what to make of the medicine woman. She was everywhere now - at Tecchin’s estate, traveling the streets to deliver her client’s prescriptions, with the children, and outside of her shop either watering her potted plants or fiddling with the wind chimes.

He wasn’t sure when it started..when she became a distraction.

After returning to the village once he’d completed a delivery, he began to seek out the medicine woman. He wanted to know what she was doing; organizing her wares, dusting those shelves crammed with glass jars filled with fresh or dry plants? What is she eating for lunch? Does she take regular breaks from her work, or did she keep going until the sun had gone down and went home?

If she wasn’t in town or resting at home, he’d immediately assume she went to the mountains and sit outside the sweets shop, munching on mitarashi dango until he saw she’d returned safely.

And he wasn’t doing all of this because he is worried about an unmarried, young woman who practiced medicine venturing out on her own in a dangerous world teeming with flesh-eating demons. Not at all. Clearly if she can handle almost daily trips to the mountains, she can take care of herself! She doesn’t need anyone to look after her.

That’s what he’s been telling himself, so why won’t this weird feeling in his stomach go away? Maybe he was sick…that had to be it. He couldn’t afford to get sick now, he’s got work to do, dammit!

Looks like he really has no choice but to go to the medicine woman’s shop. Get herbs for whatever ailment he’s caught, and see that she is safe and sound in her establishment today. A win-win situation.

However, even after he’d acquired an herbal remedy and took it twice a day as the medicine woman instructed, that bizarre, flip-flopping in his stomach and heart did not go away. If anything, it got worse when he was around her.

He wanted to put all of the blame on her…yet was it really her fault when she hasn’t done anything wrong? Normally he didn’t give a damn what others thought about him whether they were a respected elder or a snot-nosed kid, so what made [First Name] [Last Name] an exception?

The answer to this question came to him at the sweets shop. He had just finished his work for the day and decided to treat himself with several sticks of freshly made mitarashi dango with a cup of green tea, sitting outside on a bench. When he saw the medicine woman pass by with a weary expression on her face, Haganezuka’s body moved on its own, walking towards her and offering the confectionery he was just about to eat. The exhaustion in her eyes perked up at seeing the food in his hand…then uncertainty.

Like she didn’t want to be a burden and take something from someone, even when that person is willing to do so.

That’s probably what pissed him off so much that he pushed not one but two dango sticks into her hands before stomping away. He’d hoped that would be enough to calm his thumping heart, to forget about the medicine woman so he could focus on his craft, but that soft ‘thank you’ tumbled from her mouth to his ears…damn it!

If that hadn’t been enough to piss him off and send him packing to the mountains the following day, it was when Kanamori pressed five coins in his hand, saying the money was from their mutual friend. It was the equivalent of the mitarashi dango and tea plus enough to buy an additional stick of the sticky confectionery.

What is with that woman?!?

He was familiar with the trail up to the bone-white range of craggy cliffs. He’d first pass two rocks stacked on top of each other, followed by the god of safe travels on the right side of the road. He’d briefly pray to it and leave a pretty stone as an offering before continuing the trek.

He’ll soon see the vast evergreen wilderness stretching from the northeast, the scent of pine needles tickling his nose. Within forty minutes of traversing through the muddy road and wet vegetation, he finally entered the mountain’s gaping mouth. Haganezuka inhaled a deep breath, savoring the crisp air and the mild chill in his bones, already feeling so much better than being confined in the village.

Carefully removing the straps of his traveling bag from his shoulders, Haganezuka set it down on the ground and began pulling out the tools needed to carefully mine the ores he used to forge the nichirin swords for his clients without severely damaging the mountain’s interior. Double checking that he had everything he needed, the swordsmith allowed himself to forget the affairs in the outside world and immediately went to work.

He had only removed five very gorgeous pieces of ores when he heard pebbles shifting and sliding coming from inside the cave…as he recalled, he is the only one here. He paused for a moment, reaiming still as a statue for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, resuming the task of obtaining a sixth ore. He braced himself, ready to stand up and find another spot when he heard a low growl. Thinking it was a bear that had made the noise earlier, the swordsmith braced himself for evasive maneuvers and an escape route as he shifted a leg backwards. But when he looked up…all he could see, no, feel, was warmth. A burning sensation.

Turning around, his eyes widened in horror and confusion as his gaze fell upon the largest lizard he’d ever seen in his entire life. Its obsidian scales glowed beneath the flame that began at the crown of its head to the tip of its tail. Amber orbs flashed dangerously as it stared darkly at him.

For whatever reason, this thing was pissed.

In his shock, he barely managed to dodge a swipe of its claws when it raised its right leg towards him. His clothes weren’t torn, but his mask shattered onto the ground. Haganezuka rolled away to dodge another attack, though this time those claws dug into his back and it fucking hurt.

He pushed his body upwards, scrambling to put some distance between himself and this lizard as the latter crawled towards him, snapping its jaws and the earth beneath its feet melting. He felt his heart hammer rapidly in his chest as its throat began to emit an iridescent glow, growing brighter and brighter behind its rows of razor-sharp teeth.

“Get down!”

He snapped out of his trance, his eyes widening in shock and confusion as he saw the medicine woman race towards him and the lizard. The thing turned around too, its jaws widening and ready to attack when [First Name] threw a small, circular orb with greenish liquid sloshing inside right into the creature’s mouth. It screeched, throwing its head back as thick wisps of black smoke erupted between its teeth, body swaying until it collapsed into a boneless heap on the ground, right by his feet.

Although flushed and slightly out of breath, the medicine woman looked incredibly relieved before she looked at him with a pinched brow, anxiety and concern darkening her eyes as she kneeled by his side, removing the large medicine box from her back, setting it down and began opening its drawers, pulling out bandages, herbs, scissors, and tiny glass vials.

“Thank goodness I made it in time before something happened to you, Haganezuka. Are you alright? Did the salamander bite you? Hm, doesn’t look like it. No damage to your arms or front. Let me see your back. Oh, no. Oh dear, this is not good. I’ll need to use some of this and that, and bandage you up until we get back to the village. Haganezuka, I need you to stay as still as possible for me while I apply this medicine on, all right? It’ll sting, and it might hurt, but that’s a good sign. If the salamander’s claw had dug any deeper, it would’ve been a much more serious injury.”

He couldn’t speak, his eyes darting between her and the…salamander as the confusion in his mind deepened until he couldn’t contain his frustration and yelled, “What the hell is going on here?!”

She blinked, more startled at his raised voice than annoyed or terrified before she sighed, standing up with her supplies and kneeled behind him. “That was a salamander. As you saw, it can breathe fire like the dragons from those Western fairy tales. I’ve put it to sleep with a draught, but there’s no need to worry now. It’ll be out for several hours. Though, in theory they aren’t supposed to even be here. They normally live at a higher altitude in the mountains or make their nests around volcanoes.” She glanced over at the slumbering beast. “The fact there’s one here is alarming. No one from the village will be safe until it can be safely removed….and its babies.”

“Babies?!”

“Mm. The black ones are female. The scales of their mates are much brighter and colorful…no, more ostentatious. Almost like a peacock’s feathers. Beautiful to entice a potential partner in a dance, but not at all durable. Still…the fact that it showed itself to you….it must have wanted you to see something.”

“It wanted me to see something?” He asked, releasing a low hiss as he felt a stinging, white-hot sensation spread across his back. The medicine woman quickly apologized, squeezing his shoulder briefly before resuming her treatment. “Salamanders cannot be seen by normal humans because they are creatures attuned to magic. They’re what you’d call a ‘neighbor’. As for what it wanted you to see…I don’t know.” She said, carefully lowering his shirt once the bandages were secured around the torso. Her brow furrowed in contemplation.

“She might have known you weren’t a threat, but got scared when you were getting too close to her nest. If you respect the neighbors, they will respect you in turn. There. All done. Now, we need to get you out of here. Are you able to walk all right on your own?”

He nodded, standing up immediately before he hissed in pain. “Yeah. By the way…you’re not gonna stay here with this salamander, are you?” He asked. She might have knocked it out with that potion, but he was not going to leave her in the mountain by herself. It would leave a bad taste in his mouth, and Kanamori would get pissed at him for supposedly abandoning the medicine woman when that is far from the truth.

She shook her head. “No. Believe me, I want to help the salamander and its children…but this is a job I can’t do alone. Once we get back to the village, I’ll need to inform Lord Tecchin of the situation and get in contact with a few friends.”

Hagenezuka sighed, running a hand through his bangs when he saw something glistening on the salamander’s right leg. He raised his brow. “Oi. Is that….a chain?” He said. When he looked over his shoulder, he saw [First Name]’s face tense. She walked quickly to where the creature laid on the ground, only to take a step backwards when bright, orange blood began to drip down its scaly appendage. She examined it closely, leaning forward. He watched in confusion as the shine in those [Eye Color] orbs darken. Whatever she saw, he could tell that the medicine woman was angry. This is the first time he’d ever seen her like this.

She then stood up, walking past him, collecting his tools and bags, handing them to him before grabbing her medicine box, hoisting the straps over her shoulders. “We need to go while there’s still daylight left. Salamander blood is highly toxic and as you probably saw, resembles lava. It’ll burn anything it comes in contact with.”

He scowled. He didn’t like being kept in the dark and he knew that this is neither the time nor the place to interrogate the medicine woman. He quickly guided her out of the mountain, following the trail back towards the village. To his surprise, [First Name] went into more detail about these ‘neighbors’. They could not be seen by normal humans, but those that could see them were either chosen to be seen…or selected as its next meal.

The tales about them, the ones that parents told their children to keep out of mischief, held some truth. As she had explained earlier, by respecting the neighbors, they will respect you in return. But the ones who grow in strength by feeding off of negative emotions were the most dangerous ones of all: ayakashi.

She can see and converse with these entities because she is a Sleigh Beggy. The simplest explanation of a Sleigh Beggy is a queen bee, drawing others towards her unintentionally because of the power she possessed. The wind chimes around her shop and home were wards designed to keep out the neighbors and ayakashi. If either of these supernatural entities would try to harm the villagers, it was her job to slay the latter and chase out the former.

As enlightening as this conversation is, Haganezuka only just became more confused. “Right…but what was that shackle doing on the salamander? You said it shouldn’t even be here in the first place. Don’t try to deny it, you were pissed when you saw that thing on its leg.”

He did not miss how her shoulders stiffened nor the quickened pace in her stride. Was she still angry? Or was she nervous? Instead of interrogating her further, he decided to keep his mouth shut and just wait to see if anything happened. Several minutes later, his patience paid off when she inhaled through her nose, exhaling deeply before she shakily answered him.

“That shackle…it was engraved with the crest that I recognize. That salamander was from an illegal auction house. Instead of dealing with rare antiquities or other items that might draw in a very rich nobleman…the auction house sells neighbors. From fairies in the West to mermaids from the oceans, they’ll offer anything their client’s heart desires. But these people aren’t just buying exotic pets to brag about…they’re selling them as magical ingredients for potions, and even weapons to protect their household.”

Haganezuka was torn between feeling sick to his stomach and ready to hit something, but he forced himself to calm down.”And how do you know so much about that auction house?” He asked, gritting his teeth.

She must have misunderstood his anger being directed towards her and not the despicable people would even think about selling these animals, no, neighbors, to the public so long as they could afford it, because she stopped walking. Her face paled, her eyes were wide with anxiety, and she was trembling like a leaf ready to fall off from a branch.

He took a step forward and cupped her cheek, using his thumb to tilt her chin upwards so she’d look at him straight in the eye when she answered him….if she was even ready to do that. As far as she might be concerned, they barely interacted with each other until now. When he noticed the color in her face turn magenta, he felt his own face burn with embarrassment as soon as he remembered his broken mask laid in pieces inside the mountain.

[First Name] swallowed, placing a palm over the hand that was on her face before she whispered softly. “Because…I had been there… as merchandise. I was the last item of the day, ready to be sold to the highest bidder for whoever wanted a new weapon, a new pet…or a bedside companion. I was young. Fourteen, fifteen years old. The one who bought me was my master. He rescued me, gave me a home, and taught me everything I know about the neighbors, the ayakashi, and…things about myself I still hadn’t been ready to accept. It’s thanks to him that I’ve grown to become who I am today, and the people I’ve met along the way…they’re amazing. I never knew that this world was so big, still so full of wonderful things to see and learn even when it may seem like bad karma is around every corner.”

Haganezuka felt his heart twist uncomfortably. She had been through a lot, probably just as much as the Kamado boy and his little sister…no, that wasn’t right nor fair to compare the suffering and the pains that these three have been through, separately or whatever made damned sense. He just…didn’t think that someone who smiled sincerely at others carried the responsibility to protect them from unseen forces beyond their comprehension. He hesitated for only a moment, pulling his hand away from her face to cradle the back of her head while the other palm rested on his left shoulder. He felt [First Name] stiffen at the sudden contact, then sagged against him.

She eventually pushed away, looking at him with a hesitant smile before she nervously rubbed the stone necklace. He watched as she swallowed nervously then turned away from him, trembling fingers starting to rub to the back of her neck.

“Unfortunately, despite my mentor’s immense power, this is something he could never erase. The auction house…they had a very unique tracking system. Even when the merchandise is bought, a tracking spell will be forever embedded even when the customer is satisfied. Think of it as….a fail safe if their purchase ever decided to escape and couldn’t be found by normal magical methods. No matter where I go or how far I was from him, the master would always be able to find me.”

Haganezuka frowned, opening his mouth to ask what she was talking about when the medicine woman pushed up [Hair Color] tresses, revealing an uneven, dark patch of skin shaped like a serpent eating its tail….no. Wait. This wasn’t something caused from being burned by the sun. He realized. This was created by a branding iron. The medicine woman had been marked like livestock.

As if she had lesser rights as a human simply because she had been bought by her master. This had to be the same mark she saw on the salamander’s shackle.

He didn’t know how long he couldn’t breathe or think…whatever he was feeling right now, it felt even more intense than the rage and frustration when he found out that Tanjiro had broken or lost another sword. The only way he had snapped out of it was when he felt [First Name] gently touch his forearm, looking up at him with concern.

Then for the second time today, he hugged her but it didn’t last as long this time. They had to get to the old man, and fast. That was his excuse. Haganezuka didn’t know what the fuck possessed him to act like this but damn it she’d better not breathe a word about this to Kanamori.

Not. A. Word.

[First Name] immediately informed Lord Tecchin of the situation once Haganezuka was left in the care of the elder’s doctor. She had, in so many words, explained there was an unidentified poisonous herb growing inside the mountains. Until she is able to determine its toxicity and create an antidote, it was too dangerous for the other swordsmiths to go there. If they require ores for their work, she will be more than happy to collect what they need so long as they stay in the village for three to five days.

Including Haganezuka, Lord Tecchin is the only other person aware of her true nature though this is only possible…because he had met the master so many years ago, when he had been a foolish and young apprentice. She did not know the extent of their history, only that her master saved Lord Tecchin from a fate worse than death at the hands of a shapeshifting ayakashi.

Now older and wiser, his main priority was the safety of the swordsmiths and their families. Lord Tecchin immediately sent word out to them all to remain within the village until further notice. She thanked him profusely for listening to her selfish request before departing his residence to make the necessary preparations to handle the situation. She’d asked about Haganezuka, but the tiny man reassured her that the ill-tempered swordsmith is in good hands, so there was nothing to worry about.

[First Name] checked on him early the following morning at his workshed before she left the village to meet up with the acquaintances she had contacted to safely relocate the salamander and its babies from the mountains. She did use a little of her magic to speed up his recovery once she finished applying more medicine to the lacerations on his back, and she hoped he never found out the truth about Sleigh Beggys.

The less he knew, the better it would be for both of them.

Haganezuka couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. He had gotten to the market and purchased a gift for the medicine seller with help from Kanamori’s wife. He told them it was because he felt gratitude towards her for helping him in the mountains, but that is it! Nothing more!

He inhaled a deep breath, grateful that he’d been able to find a new mask so that no one could see just how red his face was right now, standing outside of the medicine seller’s shop. He glanced down at the item in his hands. A potted plant with pale pink flowers. She should like them…right?

His grip on it tightened slightly before he stepped forward, pushing the shoji door open. He called out to her, and she heard him, yelling from the back that she’ll be right there. He heard the pitter-patter of sandals tapping against wooden floors, followed by a string of apologies as she stepped into the light, greeting him with a smile. He wouldn’t have minded so much if he hadn’t been caught off guard with how exhausted she looked; dark circles under her eyes, her fingers smeared with ink, and even the front of her pristine apron had seen better days. Is she really all right? She had kept her promise and gotten the salamander relocated to a sanctuary within three days, unless something else was troubling her?

“Sorry about that, Haganezuka. How can I help you today?” She said as if she didn’t look like shit.

He felt his eyelid begin to twitch rapidly. “What the hell is wrong with you?! When’s the last time you slept? Don’t you dare tell me that I work too much on my swords when you look like you’re about to pass out right now! That’s it! Where do you keep tea leaves in this place?!” He immediately began looking around the shop, irritation boiling in his veins as his gaze followed the verdant overgrowth of herbs to a dark wooden cabinet sitting just beneath the window. He scanned the labels on the first shelf, and to his dismay, there were just remedial plants. Nothing that can be used to boil water and make tea for the overworked medicine woman. When he looked back at her, there was a stunned look on her face. Why the fuck did she seem so surprised that someone’s actually worried about her?!

“Why aren't you sitting down yet?!”

“Haganezuka, there are no chairs to sit in here except for the back of the shop, which serves as my workstation.” [First Name] replied softly with a small smile. “I’m still studying the effects of the salamander’s blood samples that I collected, and I’m quite close to producing an antidote. I appreciate your concern, Haganezuka, and I promise I’ll make myself some tea when I go home tonight.”

He pouted behind his mask. Suppose that is fair. He’d never eat or drink in his workshed unless he sat outside on the veranda with sticks of his precious mitarashi dango, which itself was a rare moment of relaxation for him. Instead of trying to argue with her further, he just held up the pot for her to take. He felt his heart race at seeing her smile widen, stretching her small hands and taking the gift from him…

Chink.

His eyes immediately went to her wrist, where he saw the pieces of a jade bracelet crumbled onto the floor. [First Name]’s eyes widened before her complexion turned a sickly green, her hands trembling rapidly before they loosened their grip on the potted plant. It shattered immediately upon impact, soil and flowers flung in different directions as she lurched forward, hands coming to her mouth as blood spilled between her fingers. She pulled her palms away, looking up at the blood dripping from them in shock before staring at him.

“Huh?”

He watched in horror as she fell backwards and he immediately sprung towards her, barely managing to catch the medicine woman before she landed on the floor. He carefully lowered them to the ground. With one hand cradling the back of her head and the other around her waist, he shouted at her. “Oi, [Last Name], [Last Name]! [First Name]?! Answer me, dammit, this isn’t funny! [First Name]!”

Haganezuka stiffened when he received no answer from the medicine woman. Heart hammering in his ears and sweat beginning to form on his brow, he shakily inhaled a deep breath through his nose, then exhaled with his mouth. As he performed this calming method, he replayed the sound that wind chimes made in his mind for several moments until he could think clearly. He steadied himself, knees bending slowly as he lifted himself and [First Name] off of the ground. He turned, ready to bolt to Doctor Adashino’s hut but his feet stopped moving when he saw a figure blocking the shop’s entrance.

It was a boy, probably no older than fifteen summers, with lightly tanned skin and black hair with bright green eyes peeking from under sweeping bangs. He was dressed in different shades of charcoal, as if he were conjured from the darkness itself; from the yukata that draped over his broad shoulders to the socks and geta sandals on his feet. The swordsmith did not know why but there was something about this brat that rubbed him the wrong way.

“What do you want?” Haganezuka snapped, pulling the medicine woman closer to his body. The stranger didn’t seem to notice him, instead he gazed sadly at [First Name], sighing forlornly.

“You’ve done it again, haven’t you my dear?” He murmured. “You do have a way of causing chaos, even when you have the best intentions in mind for those around you. When will you become selfish and worry about yourself first?” Shaking his head, the boy turned his gaze to him, eyes glowing in the darkness of the shop. “Give me the child.”

Haganezuka felt his left eye twitch. “What?”

“I do not have time to squabble nor do I wish to waste my energy on you,” The stranger snapped, pointing at [First Name]. “She has collapsed from magical overexertion. She must be treated immediately, or her chances of survival will grow thinner. Sleigh Beggy children are not as strong as they used to be.”

A tremor of shock blitzed through his body at the stranger’s words, though thankfully it wasn’t so obvious with his mask on. “How do you know who she is?” He demanded, his mind scrambling with anxiety and memories he could barely recall in this situation, what he’d learned from the medicine woman when they walked away from the mountains that day. “You can’t be a demon. They can’t roam freely in the sunlight as apparently you’re able to, you’re not drooling at the sight of her blood, and they don’t know anything about Sleigh Beggys. Or ayakashi. They can’t be seen by others unless they want to be seen. So who are you? Are you a neighbor, some spirit that pities her? Or are you someone else?”

“Watch your tongue, boy -”

“Where did you buy her?” Haganezuka asked suddenly. The stranger went silent, raising a brow. “When and how did you find out what she is? Did she ask for her freedom or was that bought too?” The swordsmith said, firing question after question. The stranger looked at him with an expression of exasperation and annoyance, his eyes flashing yellow for only a brief moment.

“For a mere human who had survived the salamander’s wrath, you’re quite arrogant, but fine. I’ll play along.” He said. “I found out who she was from the moment she stepped onto the stage of the Fleeting Petals auction house in Kyoto’s business district, just when spring had arrived. A respectable antique shop during the day, and once a year, the only place in this country where you can find more than enough items to start a private army or create your own harem, whatever suited the customer’s desires so long as the money rolled in to pay the price. She was the evening’s final item, and I had gotten into a bidding war with two other contenders for her. An alchemist from the East, and a samurai. Both wanted a weapon, I needed an apprentice. It is through me that she knows everything about the ayakashi and medicine.” He crossed his arms. “Is that enough? Give me the child, now.”

Haganezuka ran his tongue over his bottom lip, heart quickening. There is no doubt that this is the master who had bought [First Name]’s freedom. How else would this bastard answer his questions so flawlessly, or even know where she is? The mark on her neck has magic that makes it easy for him to track her down, and it was the one thing he could not remove with all of the powers he possessed. When the shop suddenly became darker, he glanced around, and felt himself grow pale. On the wooden wall closest to him was a looming, horned shadow whose body stretched all the way to the ceiling. It stared down at him with luminous, bone-white orbs.

No. He didn’t want to give her away. He didn’t want her to go -

He yowled when the shadow suddenly peeled itself from the ceiling, grabbing the medicine woman from his arms before turning towards the master. Now cradling his apprentice close to him even when it looked absolutely bizarre for a child to carry a grown woman, bright green eyes stared at him.

“I don’t know why she has revealed her secret to you…but you must be something special. Regardless, she will return home with me. You will look after her house while we’re gone. No, I cannot tell you when she will return. This is the length of my generosity, human. Do not disappoint me.” The master and [First Name] were suddenly enveloped in billowing clouds of smoke, disappearing from Haganezuka’s sight.

It was only a moment later that the swordsmith realized there was a sudden eruption of noise coming from outside, people chattering and some distant echo of hammers slamming against metal.

The front door had been opened this whole time.

Taglist:

@saltyfruitbat

@13rurururi

@myrisan-melodies

@praisethesuuun

@sketchlove

#chise!reader #an idyllic novelist #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x female reader #kny x reader #kny headcanons #demon slayer #demon slayer headcanons #hotaru haganezuka demon slayer #hotaru haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka x reader #ancient magus bride #collaboration #collab work #mahoutsukai no yome #kny haganezuka #kny au

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psychewritesbs · 1 year

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Chapter 217: Bath, part 2—Cursed Lover: Introduction to the Psychology of Romantic Love 101

Cursed lovey-dovey JJK Sunday!

I know this chapter in specific has had polarizing reactions but I personally loved how unserious it is and I LOVE YOROZU! crazy bitch I love her

There are no coincidences in this world, what is there is hitsuzen 必然. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been re-visiting the Psychology of Romantic Love. So when this chapter dropped with its implications of one-sided love, I couldn’t not write about it.

So just a heads up, in the spirit of chasing after my own love-induced delusions, I went on the usual massive tangent and wrote about LOVE under the cut.

Thing is... and this is just a theory but... love is the most twisted curse of them all.

愛よ。

So anyways...

And yes... this is also a Depth Psychology lecture.

That said...

Welcome to Introduction to the Psychology of Romantic Love 101.

Drunk in love

First, I’m not going to do an in-depth exploration of the Psychology of Romantic love here because I am saving that for a different essay that I am working on. So what you’ll find is more of a brief introduction to this complex subject.

Second, DESPITE the impression you might get from reading this, I am actually a romantic who willingly and perhaps rather foolishly loves/hates to get drunk in love.

Third, music is perhaps one of the best ways to convey something as indescribable such as love. So you’ll find I drop specific lyrics and song titles for reference. Feel free to listen to, skip or ignore.

That said, I’ll also admit that since I started re-visiting the Psychology of Romantic Love, I’ve literally been looking for the right opportunity to drop these two song titles: Lovefool by The Cardigans, and Drunk in Love by Béyonce and her babydaddy, Jay-Z.

And while Lovefool is more appropriate for a one-sided obsession (I think we’ve long since left “crush” territory) such as Yorozu’s...

So I cry and I pray and I beg

Love me love me Say that you love me Fool me fool me Go on and fool me Love me love me Pretend that you love me Leave me leave me

The idea of being drunk in love also applies quite well. In the Psychology of Romantic Love, this is known as “drinking the love potion” by Depth Psychologists.

Boy, I'm drinking, get my brain right

In drinking the love potion, the lover (aka the one doing the loving) is privy to experiencing the magic realms of the heart--the beauty of love itself. This is what is described as the usual symptoms of being in love, like butterflies in your chest or stomach and having an overall dreamy temperament.

The problem with drinking the love potion often lies in the delusions that are inherent to being drunk in love. At their best, these delusions are nothing more than an overall feeling of pleasantness, sort of like seeing the world through rose-colored glasses. But at their worse, these delusions can alter how the lover perceives reality itself.

But don’t take my word for it, when it comes to describing what it’s like to observe someone who is drunk in love from drinking the love potion, Fuel said it best in their song Shimmer:

She dreams a champagne dream Strawberry surprise Pink linen on white paper Lavender and cream Fields of butterflies Reality escapes her

What I love most about Yorozu being completely out of touch with reality is that her version of “lavender and cream” and “fields of butterflies” is more akin to destroying 3 villages and writing haiku about the decapitated head of the most handsome man in each of those villages.

crazy bitch I love her

Tainted love

Also, can we stop and appreciate how comical this whole page is?

Gege, of course, uses the Sakura trees in full bloom in the panel above (cut off) as well as Sakura blossoms raining down on Yorozu and Sukuna--a trope commonly used to emphasize the ephemeral nature of beauty that can also evoke romantic undertones.

If you’ve ever had the privilege of visiting Japan during Hanami season and gotten to see Sakura blossoms falling, its undeniable how poetic and beautiful such a mundane spectacle is.

But, just as I am exploring the darker side of love in this ramble, you can be sure there is shadow side to the Sakura trees.

What if there was a more sinister reason as to why the cherry blossoms are pink?

Just the way Gege is exploring corrupted and twisted love through Yorozu, In Tokyo Babylon, CLAMP uses cherry blossoms as a corrupted symbol of love--tainted love that corrupts (cue Marilyn Manson’s version of Tainted Love).

Sometimes I feel I've got to run away I've got to get away From the pain you drive into the heart of me

Once I ran to you (I ran) Now I run from you This tainted love you've given

That's what I meant when I shared how I would have liked to see what it means for the King of Curses, Sukuna, to “love” or have a one-sided crush. Basically I headcanon Sukuna’s love language is inflicting pain.

But Sukuna isn’t necessarily running from Yorozu because he’s not digging the pain she dishes with her tainted love but more because... well... she’s so delusional she annoys him. I can see why Kenny asked Sukuna why he’d go see her.

But since Yorozu is the one dishing pain with her tainted love, I loved that her love language is basically to die in the name of the Beloved--whether she’s the one who dies or its Sukuna.

In German, liebstod is a word for a kind of love that is so unreal and so Divine, that it can only be achieved in death.

“I want you to be the one to kill me...

I want you to be the one who hurts me...

... as the ultimate expression of my love for you.”

crazy bitch I love her

To quote Jungian Analyst, Jim Hollis, “to love the Other, with all the Other’s presumed power to hurt us, requires a substantial amplitude of soul, an enlargement of one’s sense of self”.

Not me using a quote from Dr. Hollis to write about JJK because he talks about the sense of self.

After all, is there a greater form of showing one’s devotion for the Beloved than by baring our bleeding heart and offering it on a silver platter to say “I trust you”? that or maybe I’m just twisted af too. like... is that why I'm still single? bahaha

Absolute love corrupts absolutely.

The Demon Lover

There’s also something to be said about how Yorozu’s tainted love is also a reflection of her psychoemotional development as an individual--which is an interesting thing to say given her vessel is a teenager with a history of childhood neglect and abandonment.

Now, part of what is so comical about Yorozu is that everything from her reactions, her behavior, and her obsession with Sukuna are, quite literally, so infantile.

That’s because Yorozu’s love appears to be stuck in a level of ego development that objectifies the “object of her affection”, Sukuna, and sees it as something to be claimed and owned. She sees it as her duty to the Beloved to subdue him with her power.

Ironically, as Jung himself used to say, “where love rules, there is no will to power; and where power predominates, there love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.”

Jungian Analyst, John Haule further tells us that “the goal of love appears to be nothing less than a loss of ego.”

He adds that the Demon Lover archetype is often constellated in romantic relationships when the lover lacks the psychoemotional maturity to see the delusions caused by the love potion as a projection of one’s shadow onto the Beloved.

Instead, we are invited to consider that this kind of love is more like an addiction.

Or in the words of Børns’ Electric Love...

Drown me (drown me), you make my heart beat like the rain Surround me (oh), hold me deep beneath your waves

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle I can't let you go now that I got it And all I need is to be struck By your electric love

Which, thematically, is so perfect for a story like Jujutsu Kaisen where selfishly prioritizing satisfying the hedonistic and fleeting desires of the ego sense of self is what drives the strongest sorcerers.

crazy bitch I LOVE HER BECAUSE SHE’S SO RELATABLE AF!

Thank you if you’ve made it this far.

I hope you have a cursed lovey-dovey JJK-Sunday!

#jjk ch 217 #god I love jujutsu kaisen #v gives bad music recs

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ourlordapollo · 1 year

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It's that time of year again! WizardGlick AO3 year in review, template by @\athina-blaine

Top Fandom: Pokémon, with 3 fics

Date of First Fic Posted: April 11th (Chokecherry, for Kingdom Hearts)

Top Multichapter Fic: I Love You (just in case you didn't know) (Pokémon)

Top Oneshot: Veritas Vincit (Black Butler)

Fic You're Most Proud Of: Probably ILY because it's so mf long (for me, anyway)

Fic You Wish Got More Attention: In the least entitled way possible, I do wish more ppl had read Hitsuzen (Pokémon). I get why they didn't but. my babies. 🥺

Fic That Challenged You the Most: Either Veritas Vincit or 2:00 AM Kalos Time (Pokémon). In both cases I wanted to write something bigger (deeper and funnier respectively) than what I actually created, but just couldn't make it work

Favorite Quote/Passage: From Hitsuzen:

Eusine laughed, a bitter taste dancing on his tongue. "I'm leaving."

"A lead?" Morty guessed. Eusine just looked at him, unable to lie. Morty reached for him through the fence, took Eusine's hand in both of his own and held it. "Come here, please."

Eusine came. How could he deny Morty, who rarely asked for anything, and asked so sweetly when he did? Even now, with that somber, sorrowful look aging his features, his ethereal beauty never dimmed. There was something ephemeral in the way his hair danced with the breeze, like he might be swept away at any moment.

Total Words Posted: 28,828

#delphi washington #copy & paste and delete my answers if you want the template; it's not a tag game #ao3 year in review #this was kind of a dry year for me because i spent all of it (yes ALL OF IT) working on a gift fic that was due LAST january #i wasnt supposed to work on anything but that fic but who i am to deny my fair muse when she calls #anyway cade if youre reading this im sorry i swear i'll get it edited before your birthday

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shiguremachi · 3 years

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Moriarty the Patriot S1 ED - ALPHA (english lyrics)

youtube

Artist: STEREO DIVE FOUNDATION

Moriarty the Patriot S1 ED Trying to write something clearer than the existing translation on the video... (I think that one is at least partly machine-translated.) Also, this one is a bit literal as I’m favouring clarity over elegance.

引き継いだ魂共に犯した誓い hikitsuida tamashi tomo ni okashita chikai 遺伝子の業に溺れた理想論で idenshi no gou ni oboreta risouron de

An oath broken by a chain of inherited souls, with idealistic thoughts steeped in genetic karma

Lie 痛みを分かち合うなら itami wo wakachiau nara 覚悟を持て（決意の証を） kakugo wo mote（ketsui wo akashi wo） Like、dislike なんて like, dislike nante 気にしてらんない ki ni shiterannai 目的次第（実現こそが最重要だって） mokuteki shidai（jitsugen koso ga sai jyuuyou datte）

Lies and pain — if you will share them, then ready yourself (A sign of your resolve) Likes, dislikes — we can’t afford to care about that It all depends on the goal (The most important thing is to make it a reality)

自己犠牲のような必要悪* jiko gisei no you na hitsueu* 誰も知り得ない正義で dare mo shiritonai seigi de 同じ罪を背負った同志と onaji tsumi wo seotta doushi to 断ち切り難い絆を誇れ tachikiri gatai kizuna wo hokore

A necessary evil like self-sacrifice owing to a justice no one can comprehend Be proud of this unbreakable bond between comrades who bear the same sin

*A non-standard pronunciation had been used in the song; usually it’s read as hitsuyou-aku

偶然の引き金を guzen no hikigane wo 必然のスタンスとして hitsuzen no stance toshite 達成に酔いしれろ At the end tassei ni yoishirero at the end

Take the trigger of chance as an inevitable stance and bask in your achievement, at the end

Don't believe in what you can see 知る意味のない真実を（Whatever it takes） shiru imi no nai shinjitsu wo 正しさに任せて tadashisa ni makasete 目的はただ一つ mokuteki wa tada hitotsu There is no turning back

Don’t believe in what you can see — in a truth there is no point in knowing (Whatever it takes) Leave it to righteousness There is only one goal There is no turning back

One 嘆くこの街にも nageku ko no machi ni mo 救いがあるかなんてさ sukui ga aru ka nante sa （明らかにはできないだろ）（araka ni wa dekinai daro）胸騒いだとして mune sawaida toshite 理詰める余裕持ってんだ rizumeru yoyuu mottenda マスマティカルな駆け引き mathematical na kakehiki

One mourns if there is any salvation on these streets (Clearly it can’t be achieved) Though it makes my heart uneasy, I can afford to reason with you A mathematical bargain

足掻けば足掻くほど曇る agakeba agaku hodo kumoru 視界歪むのが道理で shikai yugamu no ga doori de 深く突き刺す故意の傷に fukaku tsuki sasu koi no kizu ni 生温い現実から目を覚ませと namanurii genjitsu kara me wo samase to

The more I struggle, the murkier it gets No wonder my sight is warped These deliberate wounds that pierce deep awaken me from this lukewarm reality

初動の契りを雑念に絆されず shodou no chigiri wo zatsunen ni hodasarezu 凛として果たす　愉悦と快楽に飲まれろ rin toshite hatasu　yuetsu to kairaku ni nomarero

Don’t allow this promise to move first to be tripped up by stray thoughts Fulfil it with dignity, and drink in that joy and pleasure

Don't believe in what you can see 知る意味のない真実を（Whatever it takes） shiru imi no nai shinjitsu wo 正しさに任せて tadashisa ni makasete 目的はただ一つ mokuteiki wa tada hitotsu （Let me hear you say）

Don’t believe in what you can see — in a truth there is no point in knowing (Whatever it takes) Leave it to righteousness There is only one goal (Let me hear you say it)

心に嘘はつかないで kokoro ni uso wa tsukanaide 共に行こう tomo ni yukou （Let me hear you say）答えがないからこそだろ kotae ga nai kara koso daro There is no turning back

Don’t lie to your heart Let’s go, together (Let me hear you say it) It’s precisely because there’s no answer, isn’t it? There is no turning back

律せるこの世に消し去る偽善の咎を risseru ko no yo ni keshisaru gizen no toga wo 一切の躊躇い持たずに制す揚々と issai no tamerai motazu ni seisu youyou to

In this lawful world, we shall erase the iniquity of hypocrisy, and put it down triumphantly without a single moment’s hesitation

初動の契りを雑念に絆されず shoudou no chigiri wo zatsunen ni hodasarezu 凛として果たす　愉悦と快楽に飲まれろ rin toshite hatasu　yuetsu to kairaku ni nomarero

Don’t allow this promise to move first to be tripped up by stray thoughts Fulfil it with dignity, and drink in that joy and pleasure

偶然の引き金を gizen no hikigane wo 必然のスタンスとして hitsuzen no stance toshite 達成に酔いしれろ At the end tassei ni yoishirero at the end

Take the trigger of chance as an inevitable stance and bask in your achievement, at the end

Don’t believe in what you can see — in a truth there is no point in knowing (Whatever it takes) Leave it to righteousness There is only one goal (Let me hear you say it)

心に嘘はつかないで kokoro ni uso wa tsukanaide 共に行こう tomo ni yukou （Let me hear you say）答えがないからこそだろ kotae ga nai kara koso daro There is no turning back

Don’t lie to your heart Let’s go, together (Let me hear you say it) It’s precisely because there’s no answer, isn’t it? There is no turning back

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english lyrics #anime #STEREO DIVE FOUNDATION

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errthel · 3 years

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Trese Drabbles

mostly based on the actual comics but still no descernable plot of either the comics or show in this, merely drabbles of an idea i had reading 'hitsuzen' by seductivevenus on ao3 and reading the manhwa 'store of desires' heehee

the bells rung as a young girl carefully stepped inside the store. her bruised face and timid nature showed many things about her. she scans the apothecary-like shop filled with knickknacks and objects she doesn't recognize.

a cloud can be seen from the cashier.

'what is your desire young blood?'

young blood, it was a weird way to call someone young.

the girl ignored it, her desire though?

she had many.

a nice life.

with loving parents.

a good school.

with no bullies.

she was terribly sad

'take this candy in this jar and take care of the jar as if it's your child. and i guarantee that your desire shall be fullfilled.'

child actress, eva gonzales passes away due to unexplainable circumstances.

the candy jar.

a small enchanted jar with a singular candy. eating the candy will grant the eater's desires. breaking the jar in which the candy came from will have fatal reproductions...

many people have desires they werent even aware about.

he was lulled by the soft whispers of a woman, one he loved oh so dearly. her hair was the same black and mysterious as he remembered it to be. her body curvaceous and soft to the touch.

he remembered the rooftop she led him to.

a silver necklace dangled one both their necks, a pair the kind shopkeeper gave him for free.

the same one they had a date on stargazing and where

she fell from

and soon she would lead him right where she also was.

man jumps down from ayala apartment complex.

silver necklaces for couples (dead or alive!)

wear on of these necklaces and you will be with your love of your life! now two people can be together forever...

the man was fumbling as he looked aroung the lamp lit shop. he was a lowly delivery boy and night because he was in desperate need of money

it was dark and he was running from something, he was sweating harder than anytime in his life. he wouldn't have done this if he just had cash.

the man by the registrar was idly smoking a pipe and merely stole a glance from him.

doesn't he understand?! there's something out there that could kill-

'there is no need to worry about such things good sir. this place is a safe spot and please do tell me your desire. your fear is muddling any way for me to know.'

'huh?' his greatest desire?

'ah i see. then. i recommend to you this laptop. it can help your financial troubles just fade away. and all you have to do is to answer the emails given to you within the day, and continue that for as long as you'd dare.'

will this save him? there's something about the man that tells him he can trust him.

he takes the laptop.

and leaves the shop.

filipino billionaire declares bankruptcy!

laptop of emails

an easy way to get rich. but you have to answer the emails sent to you everyday before the clock of the laptop strikes midnight. failure to do so or tampering with the laptop's clock will easily get rid of the money you easily got.

it is called the 'shop of desires'

rumors about the place started popping up six months ago. from the smaller creatures who were always updated on everything.

a place where your greatest desires are fullfilled, if you follow specific steps.

alexandra trese was livid.

an unknown entity setting shop in her city?!

and with a shop like that?!

she was ready to beat the shopkeeper and it's owner and send them out.

but she couldn't find the store.

no matter what she did or how long the kambal went looking for the shop.

no matter how many nunos she bribed, they would all say the same thing.

'it only comes out when you have a great desire.'

isn't looking for the shop itself desire enough!

she was walking in the daylight, in the streets of ayala alabang, near the place where jimmy hazan jumped down from. the kambal were uncharacteristically not with her.

she entered one of the cafés to get a drink, knowing full well that any coffee won't compete with the diabolical's barako.

'what is your desire?'

she found the place.

might make a part two huehuehue

#alex trese #trese drabbles #trese #trese comics #trese 2021 #shop of desires

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deeryloo · 3 years

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this was supposed to be a more general post that looks at the similarities between xxxholic and supernatural overall, and while I still want to do that, honestly the only thing I can focus on today is the overlap between watanuki and dean, so that’s what we’re getting instead.

i wanna talk about how the tragedy of dean winchester is that he spends 15 years stretching, like a rubber band, closer and closer to a realized sense of self, to then be repeatedly snapped back to his shitty self-esteem by the exterior forces on the show telling him (directly or otherwise) that he doesn’t deserve better. and that even after dean breaks completely free of his binds and starts to envision a life for solely just himself, he is left to die on a rusty nail and ultimately does not get to experience anything of that dream life of his own.

and i wanna talk too about how watanuki spends the first half of his journey learning to see his own value, to respect the ways he impacts others, and to actually begin forming meaningful relationships with the people who care about him, only to ultimately sequester himself into a shop he can’t leave for the rest of eternity while the people he loves grow up and leave or die or marry each other so they can keep having kids for the specific purpose of giving watanuki company, so he, too, gets to experience nothing of a life of his own.

like, it’s their shared endings that do me in. maybe they don’t seem the same on the surface (dean dies and goes to heaven, watanuki lives forever in a multidimensional shop he can’t leave), but i feel like narratively the consequences are the same. the damage to viewers looking for a cathartic release is the same. because dean dying and going to a place where nothing changes, he owns nothing, he works for nothing, means the growth he’s allowed as a character has ended. dean died never knowing what it meant to live for himself. he died never knowing how sweet true freedom--from john, from michael, from amara, from chuck, whoever--could be. and, honestly, i think you could say the same for watanuki.

i really feel like yuuko wanted something else for watanuki. yuuko does everything she can to help him understand that his life has meaning and value beyond his own understanding of himself. she tries to get it through his head that acting like he doesn’t matter, sacrificing himself willy nilly--that hurts people. his actions don’t affect just himself. and despite yuuko (and others! the joro gumo, doumeki, SYAORAN to name a few) spending so much time on this with watanuki, watanuki just doesn’t get it. or he does, but decides not to accept it. and because watanuki is stopped in time, trapped in that shop by the series’ end, the growth he’s allowed as a character ends, too. he literally stops living for himself, instead living only for the faint wish yuuko might come back. and it’s terrible.

there’s just this sense of lessons not really learned for both of them. dean dances for over a decade with the idea that he deserves to die, even if his deepest wish is to live. he toys with the idea of change, the idea of growth. and of course, he gets it to an extent. but the story never lets him really go for it. he’s given moments that indicate he’s ready for something more than hunting, something more than bloody death, but in the end he dies in a random accident and insisting this was always it for him. so what was dean’s true takeaway as a character? for audiences? did he ever really think he deserved something more?

and for watanuki, I ask the same. so much of watanuki’s arc is about learning the power of kindness and love when offered to those who otherwise don’t receive it, including HIMSELF. he is told over and over again, and seems to believe himself, that he can no longer make choices for other people on their behalf, nor can he try and undo what others do on his behalf. but I really feel the hope is that in teaching this to watanuki, in teaching the power of his own actions for better and worse, that he will make the kind of choices that aren’t needlessly self-sacrificial, because the damage of those self-sacrificial choices is almost always greater than the benefit. so what are we to make of watanuki’s final choice to stay in the shop? “don’t vanish!” says syaoran, but watanuki does exactly that. he literally removes himself from the world, takes on yuuko’s mannerisms and dress, and quits engaging with anyone who isn’t doumeki and kohane. what is our takeaway then? what does watanuki learn about loving himself when he so easily denies himself a future for the sake a dead woman who is never, canon suggests, coming back?

there’s just such a gut wrenching softness to dean and watanuki. such a sense of perseverance in the face of loss and misfortune that drives me up the wall. and there’s such a clear love for each of them from the people around them, too. we’re all a little in love with Dean Winchester. we’re all a little in love with watanuki kimihiro. I keep thinking of Castiel’s words to dean in “despair.” about how he does everything for love, everyone knows it. and I see in my mind doumeki telling kohane about his secret promise to never let watanuki die alone, like that kitten he held by the river in the rain. just as cas and sam and garth and crowley and so many others are dedicated to dean, so are kohane and himawari and yuuko and doumeki dedicated to watanuki. the loyalty both these men inspire from us readers as well as other characters, because of the goodness of their hearts...it kills me that neither of them get to really see it for themselves. how loved they really are. they catch glimpses, but neither gets a life in which that love can really be lived in. it’s just another layer of tragedy they both carry. dean deserved better. watanuki deserved better.

I could talk about a lot more, and maybe I will later, idk. the wider themes between the two texts, the parallels between castiel and doumeki, the ideas of hitsuzen and fate. but for now I guess I'll stop here. just looking at dean and watanuki is enough pain for one evening, I'd say.

#I hope this made sense #supernatural #xxxholic #dean winchester #watanuki kimihiro #my thoughts

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bluesfortheredj · 3 years

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Hitsuzen.

Hitsuzen - A naturally foreordained event. A state in which other outcomes are impossible.

Chapter 11.

A/N: The final part of Hitsuzen... finally.

“Oh… hey,” you smile sleepily; waking at the tender touch of his hand, “are you alright?”

He smiles softly, “I’m fine. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you nod, breaking out into a yawn at the end of the word, “where’s Evie?”

“She’s downstairs, hyper on chocolate cake and playing with Betty,” he pauses before he chuckles lightly when he remembers the slew of questions aimed at him when he entered the house, “she, uh, she gave me a quick interrogation when I came in just now… she may be small but my goodness is she powerful. Made a grown man shake in his shoes!”

“Oh god,” you sigh as you cover your eyes with your palms, “what did she say?”

“Well, she started off with ‘do you love mummy?’ then finished off with ‘can you be my new daddy?’ I mean, I’ve got to give it to her, she knows what she wants and she’s not afraid to ask for it!”

“Oh god,” you groan, “I didn’t think she’d ask you that!”

“It’s okay,” he laughs, “honestly, it was interesting to be on the other side of an interrogation for once!”

“I’m so sorry. She spoke bout this the other day; asking if you’d be her other daddy. I never thought she’d actually ask you outright. I’ll have a word with her,” you sigh.

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he insists, “it’s quite an inviting prospect, I can’t lie. She’s a great kid.”

You slip your hands away from your eyes to take a look at him and you sit up against the headboard as his words sink in, “Charlie… I…”

“Mummy!” Evie interrupts as she bursts into the room, “are you feeling better? Is Charlie staying? Do you love him? I love him.”

“Wow!” you laugh, “you are hyper!”

She jumps up onto the bed between you and Charlie then lays her head on your lap while she sticks her feet out to rest on Charlie’s thighs, “can we go home? Can Charlie come? Sleepover?”

You stroke the hair back from her upside down face and wobble her little cheeks to make her laugh, “someone needs to have a nap because they’re talking crazy!” you chuckle, “and these cheeks are crazy cute, I could just eat them all up.”

Evelyn laughs loudly as you bend over and nibble at her face playfully as you make chomping noises, and Charlie can only sit there in a captivated trance at watching the two of you interacting. He finds himself unable to wipe the smile from his face as you continue to make Evie laugh so innocently despite everything that had happened during her so far short life, and though it wasn’t his place to do so right now, he wished that he could gather the two of you in his arms in a loving embrace. You look up at Charlie for a moment and notice the wistful look in his eyes, then drag Evie up onto your lap for her to calm down before you speak.

“Right Missy, I need you to go downstairs and tell Sarah that mummy will be down for some cake, okay?” you ask her once she’s wiped the happy tears from her face.

“Okay,” she nods fervently before sliding off the side off the bed and disappearing.

“So… you sure you wanna deal with that everyday?” you smirk.

“Never been more sure in my life.”

“And are you sure you wanna deal with this everyday?” you ask, pointing to yourself and your slightly dishevelled appearance.

“Well, it’s a tough job but somebody’s got to do it, eh?” he winks, shuffling closer to you until he can lean forwards and kiss your waiting lips.

It’s the sort of kiss that told you everything you needed to know; it’s deep yet delicate, it’s passionate yet soft, and it ignites a fire that you thought could never be reignited after David had passed. Charlie’s hands cup your face in both a firm and gentle manner while your hands slide up the front of his shirt until you can clasp them together at the nape of his neck and slowly pull him down as you sink into the bed. The sound of his phone ringing makes him groan into your mouth and you laugh at his extremely unimpressed expression when he finally pulls away after peppering your lips with at least five more kisses.

“Sir,” he almost whines, “of course, I’m on my way now.”

“See you later,” you smile with a comforting stroke of his stubble scattered jawline.

“Already looking forward to it,” he replies excitedly, kissing you twice more before he can peel himself away from you completely.

You hear Charlie hopping quickly down the stairs only to be stopped by one nosey little girl who asks him where he’s going, and you roll your eyes at her never ending campaign to get him to stay over for a sleepover which of course would include hot chocolate and night kisses.

“Evie!” you call out, carefully getting out of bed, “stop harassing the policeman… it’s an arrestable offence!”

“A best of all oppence?” she frowns, turning her attention to the top of the stairs where you hold onto the wall for stability.

Both you and Charlie let out a laugh at her misunderstanding, “yes darling, a best of all oppence… now can you go and tell Sarah mummy needs her please?”

She runs off into the lounge and you mouth ‘run’ down to the Charlie as he gets to open the front door at last, and both her and Sarah appear once he’s safely outside. Sarah comes up to help you down the stairs; you were still feeling a little groggy and didn’t feel brave enough to tackle the stairs on your own just in case you went flying down them. When you’re safely resting on the sofa with a soothing cup of tea and the girls’ favourite film on the television Sarah comes to sit next to you to see how you are, and you rest your head on her shoulder with a contented sigh.

“Nelson, here,” Barnaby says, thrusting a file at Charlie as soon as he’s close enough, “Adam’s in interview room one… would you like to take the lead on this one?”

“It would be my absolute pleasure Sir.”

The two men enter the interview room, begin the recording, then Charlie shuffles his papers before letting out a long sigh and staring Adam straight in the eyes.

“Adam Carter… ex husband of a Maria Marsden; is that correct?” Charlie begins.

“Pfft,” he scoffs, “yeah.”

“When was the last time you had contact with Maria?”

Adam shrugs, “just after the divorce I guess.”

“Anything more recently?”

“No.”

“Are you quite sure about that? You see, we have a witness statement saying that you informed them of some form of contact between you and Maria; with her being the one to instigate it…”

“Uh…”

“Luckily though, we did some digging and found this,” Nelson twirls a piece of paper around on the desk to face Adam and slides it towards him, “this is a non-molestation order made against you by Maria two months after your divorce which prevents you from using or threatening violence, or intimidating and pestering her. So if you have been in contact with her, then we will need to-”

“I haven’t,” he snaps, “it was a lie. I lied, okay?!”

“Why would you lie about something that could possibly get you into so much trouble?” Charlie frowns as John narrows his eyes at Adam.

“Because,” he sighs with another nonchalant shrug.

“Because?”

“Because I was trying to get the sympathy vote.”

Charlie tenses up as he realises it was a ploy to make Adam appear vulnerable to you; to trick you in to comforting him, soothing him… and that would have been when he pounced, when he tried to take advantage of you because he was playing the victim. The thought of it all made him shudder violently in his seat, and he has to take a moment to shake the intrusive images of what could have played out from his mind.

“So you were planning on using this story to deceive a person into… what? What was the plan there?”

Adam smirks, “you know exactly what.”

“I think we’ve got everything we need,” Barnaby states, “Mr. Carter, you’re free to go.”

As soon as Adam has disappeared down the corridor Charlie allows one single bang of his fist on the desk before gathering up his papers and slipping them neatly back into the folder.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself Nelson,” John nods at the short outlet of rage.

“He can’t keep working at the school after this, can he?” Charlie asks as the two men make their way out of the interview room and back to their desks.

“I’m sure the head will want to keep this quiet,” he smiles, “and nip the problem in the bud, so to speak.”

Nelson smiles and gives John an understanding and thankful nod.

“How as (Y/N) earlier by the way?”

“Better,” Charlie sighs with relief, “more rested, that’s for sure.”

“Good to hear. She’s like a daughter to me, you know. She’s been through a lot for someone her age, and both myself and Sarah care very deeply for her…” John affirms, “we’ve seen her at her lowest point and now we appear to be seeing her as we never thought we would again… happy.”

Charlie realises as the two men sit down at their desks, that this is a thinly veiled warning to him that if he were to do anything to (Y/N) that would hurt her, there would be grave consequences in store, and all he can do in response to John is nod silently.

“Do not fuck this up Nelson,” he finishes bluntly.

“You have my word that I will not mess it up Sir.”

“Right. Good. Well, I’m glad we could sort that out then,” John smiles, raising his eyebrows at the DS, “why don’t you get us a drink to help get through this paperwork?”

“On it Sir!”

“(Y/N”, Sarah whispers, “(Y/N), wake up sweetie, the boys are back.”

A deep frown creases your brow as you come to after an unusually deep nap, and you manage to sit upright on the sofa with a confused expression just as John and Charlie enter the house.

“What’s the time?” you yawn, noticing the lack of children around.

“Just gone seven,” Sarah smiles, “you’ve been out for hours!”

“Oh my god, is Evie alright?”

“She’s fine; her and Betty are having a best friend’s sleepover in Betty’s room tonight, and they’re already fast asleep.”

“Thank you,” you sigh, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t awake for anything.”

“Don’t you worry, you need your rest after what happened, and they wanted dinner in the garden tonight anyway so they could have Sykes sit with them,” she chuckles, “so luckily we weren’t going to wake you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you Sarah.”

“Nor do I, I’d be lost without her,” John adds with a grin, “now why don’t I help you with dinner my darling?”

“Right, what’s happened?” Sarah asks suspiciously, “you’re in too good of a mood!”

John and Sarah disappear off into the kitchen and Charlie takes a seat next to you on the couch after taking off his shoes and coat in the hallway. He gives you a reassuring smile before reaching out for your hand and squeezing it comfortingly as you sit there still wondering where your entire day went so quickly. Once the fog lifts from your head you stand up and let Charlie know you were just going to check on the girls, then you ascend the stairs slowly and tiptoe to Betty’s room where the glow of her night light seeps out onto the landing. You push the door ajar gently to find the girls snuggled up in bed together with stuffed animals surrounding them and a book laying on the duvet as if they’d just finished story time; it was a heart warming sight to see and you know that moments like these had to be cherished what with how quickly the two of them seemed to be growing up. After a couple of minutes you eventually retreat back downstairs to find John, Sarah, and Charlie standing together in the kitchen, and in that moment you felt as if you’d finally found the family you were meant to have all along. As you walk up to Charlie and his waiting loving embrace, you realise that Midsomer had given you everything you ever wanted, and that moving here was an extraordinarily lucky twist of fate.

@lv7867 @lovemarvelousfics @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @timeandpixiedust @the-baby-bookworm @pink-lemo @chlobo6 @queenslandlover-93 @misslolasworld @killer-queen-87 @drivenbybri @itsametaphorgwil @what-wicked-delights

#Charlie Nelson #charlie nelson x reader #ds charlie nelson #gwilym lee #midsomer murders fic #the end

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completeoveranalysis · 3 months

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[4]

AND NOW WE GET PIFFLE CALL BACKS?

Oh Clamp really do love me. This is unreasonably perfect.

Who else begins the climactic fight of the series with, “Hey, remember this double layered question I posed 135 chapters ago? Let’s revisit that now!”

WHICH IS VERY GENEROUS OF THEM in the way that it signposts an exact conversation for us to think about and realise (without having to reread the whole series yet again) that the whole conversation between Syaoran and Fai in Piffle was REALLY HEAVILY honed in on the secret Lava Lamp crushing guilt and backstory we didn’t know about until now.

Which is wild in the meta sense knowing that CLAMP planned for that exact sentiment to be the very core of a character we wouldn’t even understand for another 130 chapters, but also on the character level knowing (in hindsight) that Lava Lamp himself was hearing this conversation happen in real time and probably had an absolutely horrible time knowing that they were discussing ethics behind the soul-crushing decision he made that broke the universe and is still suffering AND seeing the consequences of.

But how absolutely fascinating that after Shara our cloned Syaoran ended up developing such a similar insecurity about messing with timelines and the consequences of doing so completely independently from Lava Lamp. The parallel lives of these parallel people. The hitsuzen of it all.

AND! Fai gives almost the same advice!

Last time he said, “You can ponder over that all you want[…] but right now, it won’t do us a bit of good,” and, “If there’s something that you can accomplish if you try, then the thing to do is try. ‘Changing history’ is an idea on too grand a scale for a person to do anything about. It’s also important to accept that there are things you just can’t do.” And he was talking specifically between the Shura/Shara timeline changes at the time, but in relation to Clow? Lava Lamp holds himself accountable for every single thing that happened, but he didn’t do all of that. He was just trying to achieve a goal - which is framed here as a good thing (and is very good advice for dealing with anxiety besides).

At his core Fai sees this same struggle playing out in each Syaoran and gave them both the same tips - but this time he can reference the previous time and really hammer it home.

And, deliciously, it echoes even stronger here. The advice is to ignore all the things you can’t control. Just focus on what you want, and do what you can to achieve it.

Lava Lamp might still feel that he ruined the universe, but that won’t help him right now. Like Fai said last time, that’s on too grand a scale for him to ever take on his own. He has one thing he wants to achieve and he should focus on that. The timeline will sort itself out later.

Which is SUCH a solid Dad moment. Kurogane gets to tell Evil Wolverine to fuck off, Fai and Kurogane get to flirt and insult Evil Wolverine to his face, and now Fai gets to give a touching character moment to Lava Lamp as they all share the final story beat together. It ties the Syaoran experience together (ironically, since the other Syaoran he WAS speaking to is RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM but may or may not have the soul to remember the moment at all), and ties both sides of the plot together into this one big family moment.

Though I’m slightly suspicious of Fai last time mentioning that It’s also important to accept that there are things you just can’t do.

#Because THEMATICALLY #It would be SUCH a GOOD character arc for Lava Lamp #If he had to accept Sakura was gone and has been dead this whole time #And that he never really had the power to save her #And that it was never his fault #But EMOTIONALLY? Watching that would be DEVASTATING.#Liveblogging the reservoir chronicle #Tsubasa #Vol 206 #Fai #Lava Lamp Guy #Syaoran #The metaphor of the Sakura frozen in time #Like a regret he was told he had the power to fix #But Evil Wolverine was on the other side of the smoking gun from the start #It was never about Lava Lamp #It wasn’t even really about Sakura #It was just Evil Wolverine from start to finish

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archivistsammy · 3 years

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i’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a character tragic. what makes their story sad. like, supremely, miserably, bone-achingly sad. and, okay, when i say i’ve been thinking a lot about what makes a character tragic, what i really mean is i’ve been thinking a lot about dean winchester and watanuki kimihiro. im rewatching supernatural with one friend, and im rereading xxxholic with another, and the experience is wild because all my wires are crossing in my brain, because dean and watanuki punch me in the gut in the exact same offensively upsetting way, and i really wanna talk about it. this was supposed to be a more general post that looks at the similarities between xxxholic and supernatural overall, and while I still want to do that, honestly the only thing I can focus on today is the overlap between watanuki and dean, so that’s what we’re getting instead.

it’s their shared endings that do me in. maybe they don’t seem the same on the surface (dean dies and goes to heaven, watanuki lives forever in a multidimensional shop he can’t leave), but i feel like narratively the consequences are the same. the damage to viewers looking for a cathartic release is the same. because dean dying and going to a place where nothing changes means the growth he’s allowed as a character has ended. dean died never knowing what it meant to live for himself. he died never knowing how sweet true freedom–from john, from michael, from amara, from chuck, whoever–could be. and, honestly, i think you could say the same for watanuki.

i really feel like yuuko wanted something else for watanuki. yuuko does everything she can to help him understand that his life has meaning and value beyond his own understanding of himself. she tries to get it through his head that acting like he doesn’t matter, sacrificing himself willy nilly–that hurts people. his actions don’t affect just himself. and of course he can make his own choices, but he can’t do so pretending those choices won’t have consequences for others, too. and despite yuuko (and others! the joro gumo, doumeki, SYAORAN to name a few) spending so much time on this with watanuki, watanuki just doesn’t get it. or he does, but decides not to accept it. and because watanuki is stopped in time, trapped in that shop by the series’ end, the growth he’s allowed as a character ends, too. he literally stops living for himself, instead living only for the faint wish yuuko might come back. and it’s terrible.

and for watanuki, I ask the same. so much of watanuki’s arc is about learning the power of love when offered to those who otherwise don’t receive it, including HIMSELF. he is told over and over again, and seems to believe himself, that he can no longer make choices for other people on their behalf, nor can he try and undo what others do on his behalf. but I really feel the hope is that in teaching this to watanuki, in teaching the power of his own actions for better and worse, that he will make the kind of choices that aren’t needlessly self-sacrificial, because the damage of those self-sacrificial choices is almost always greater than the benefit.

so what are we to make of watanuki’s final choice to stay in the shop? “don’t vanish!” says syaoran, but watanuki does exactly that. he literally removes himself from the world, takes on yuuko’s mannerisms and dress, and quits engaging with anyone who isn’t doumeki and kohane. what is our takeaway then? what does watanuki learn about loving himself when he so easily denies himself a future for the sake a dead woman who is never, canon suggests, coming back?

there’s just such a gut wrenching softness to dean and watanuki. such a sense of perseverance in the face of loss and misfortune that drives me up the wall. and there’s such a clear love for each of them from the people around them, too. we’re all a little in love with dean winchester. we’re all a little in love with watanuki kimihiro. I keep thinking of castiel’s words to dean in “despair.” about how he does everything for love, everyone knows it. and I see in my mind doumeki telling kohane about his quiet commitment to never let watanuki die alone, like that kitten he held by the river in the rain. just as cas and sam and garth and crowley and so many others are dedicated to dean, so are kohane and himawari and yuuko and doumeki dedicated to watanuki. the loyalty both these men inspire from us readers as well as other characters, because of the goodness of their hearts…it kills me that neither of them get to really see it for themselves. how loved they really are. they catch glimpses, but neither gets a life in which that love can really be lived in. it’s just another layer of tragedy they both carry. dean deserved better. watanuki deserved better.

I could talk about a lot more, and maybe I will later, idk. the wider themes between the two texts, the parallels between castiel and doumeki, the ideas of hitsuzen and fate. but for now I guess I’ll stop here. just looking at dean and watanuki is enough pain for one evening, I’d say.

#supernatural #xxxholic #dean winchester #watanuki kimihiro #holicnatural #our meta #this is SO NICHE but its like where i (amina) live so we all have to deal with it

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psychewritesbs · 2 years

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Chapitre 210: The words one would like to know

I don’t even know how to explain this...

But I have to say that I love that Tsubasa (”Syaoran”) and Tsubasa (”Sakura”) also why is this so complicated are the “beginning” and at the same time not?

From chapter 199--from Tsubasa's (”Syaoran”) flashback:

And yet, the two clones felt compelled to follow the same fate as the originals because their bond is inevitable.

But as Syaoran tells Tsubasa, the clones never get the privilege of that resolution.

Because both clones die.

And this moment...

Not only is it so...

But it also echoes Syaoran’s longing for a proper resolution to their fated bond, because in the end, Syaoran and Sakura are not Tsubasa and Tsubasa also why is this so complicated.

Which is how we end with Syaoran and Sakura wishing to be reborn and thus continue their existence to atone for their past deeds (?)...

And at last! Right before they are reborn and separated...

Which is how they meet in a different dimension, get married and have a child named Tsubasa together.

And which is how said child will one day feel compelled by fate to travel to another dimension where he will meet a princess by the same name.

And here’s where we become aware of the causal loop with no beginning or end. As we already know, Tsubasa hesitates to take Tsubasa’s hand leading to him wishing to turn back time and having to pay with his freedom, the creation of the clones yada yada yada.

No beginning.

No end.

Yuko even tells the clones that after they are reborn, they will meet their other selves at some point or another.

Something that Tsubasa confirms Sakura told her.

And while we are told that time starts moving forward, given Yuko’s confession, I have to wonder whether Tsubasa World Chronicle isn’t part of another, bigger causal loop disguised as a time loop.

I’m still trying to figure it out but I failed the Advanced Theory of Time and Causality in Quantum Physics class I didn’t take while in college no but why is this so complicated.

One of the things I love most, to bring it back full circle (because that’s at the core of Tsubasa after all), is the idea that the originals and the clones were fated af.

So that when time “starts moving forward again”, Tsubasa and Tsubasa have a conclusion to that conversation that has no beginning:

Hitsuzen 必然.

And if I had to make a super wild guess/crack theory about what is happening--my best guess is that either Clow’s wish to keep Yuko from dying accidentally created an AU that is looping on repeat--hence why they both feel responsible for Sakura and Syaoran or errr... Tsubasa and Tsubasa.

Just the way Kamui, the Angels and the Seals are archetypal personifications of the larger drama that is the apocalypse in x/1999, I wonder whether Tsubasa and Tsubasa are personifications created by Clow’s imagination/wish the same way Fei Wang Reed is a personification of Clow’s wish to keep Yuko alive.

In other words... considering the world that Yuko claims to have warped is “the first one,” the characters in Tsubasa all a dream that someone is having?

And if you buy into the idea that we are “God’s imagination of him/herself” then... basically Tsubasa could be a depiction of a creation myth of two very powerful beings--Clow and Yuko, whose “love story” was interrupted in the space-time continuum by Yuko’s death.

Izanagi and Izanami maybe?

Idk. I feel like I haven’t drank enough cool-aid coffee or smoked enough pot to get on CLAMPs esoteric level of quantum madness. I also feel like I don’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle to understand the causal loop they are caught on.

Did this make ANY sense though? Probably not bahaha why is this so complicated. I don’t even know what the point of me writing all this was other than because why the fuck not.

Literal picture of me trying to understand the causal loop in Tsubasa:

TLDR:

Syaoran and Sakura are cute af.

They’re also fated af.

Don’t mess with them when they are trying to confess their love to one another. IT WILL HAPPEN, you hear me?!!!!

It will happen in 👏🏼 every 👏🏼 single 👏🏼 au.

#the tsubasa brainrot continues #tsubasa reservoir chronicle #kinomoto sakura #li syaoran #ichihara yuuko #clow reed #ok time to adult

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randomfandomfiction · 4 years

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An Introduction to Tododeku Pt.2

a collection of tododeku recommendations and essential reading!

part one | part three

Him & I by Aurigardyn (67k, T+)

The man lifts his eyes and smiles and wow. Inwardly, Izuku groans. This guy is so out of his league, it’s unfair. Izuku is usually barely coherent near gorgeous boys, let alone gorgeous and rich boys like this guy.

Or : that unnecessary cheesy billionaire romance nobody asks for

Timely Problems by Imwastingmylifeinhere (47k, GA)

There is a point where something happens that's just too weird. For Izuku Midoriya, that point is when a portal opens in the middle of the common room and two children fall out that introduce themselves as his children with Todoroki. Has he mentioned that he has a ridiculously bad crush on Todoroki? Yeah, this is going to be fun.

yours, mine, ours by cityboys (45k, GA)

In which Momo winds up with a catering job and Shouto tries to delay the inevitable.

Cut From The Same Cloth by ShanaStoryteller (31k, T+)

When Endeavor finishes delivering his ultimatum, All-Might uses one of his precious minutes in his hero form to punch Endeavor in the face. The force of it sends the number two hero staggering back and into an alley wall, leaving an Endeavor-sized imprint in the bricks.

“THAT IS NOT HERO-LIKE BEHAVIOR!” All-Might roars.

Endeavor finds out some secrets, and the price of his silence is the marriage of Izuku Midoriya, the anonymous hero Deku, to his youngest son.

history has its eyes on you by aloneintherain (16k, T+)

Midoriya looked over the occupants of the room with butter soft eyes. “We should do this again. Seeing everyone in one place … it’s like we’re back in school again.”

Todoroki said, “It feels like a family reunion.”

(Social media fic, counting down the five months to Class 1-A's ten year reunion.)

Through the Looking Glass by livinglittlelie (16k, T+)

In a world where superpowers were a common thing, there was something almost miraculous called soulmates. Those who had the luck to have a soulmate would agree that it was the best thing that had happened to them.

After discovering he would never have a quirk, Midoriya Izuku thought his life was over. However, things started to change when, instead of his reflection, what he saw in the mirror was a boy he didn't know.

two sided feeling by sunflowerfaun (14k, T+)

When Todoroki slips up and does something he would never do, it becomes a common practice between him and Midoriya. He didn't know it would end up like this.

i won’t just buy you a rose by aknightley (13k, GA)

Shouto decides to visit his mother for the first time in years, and decides to stop at a flower shop along the way.

He freezes in place, and before he can move again someone is bustling through the door behind the counter, all messy hair and wide green eyes. It’s a teenager, a little shorter than Shouto but probably the same age. He’s got a wide smile and there’s a smudge of dirt on his cheek, which instantly draws Shouto’s attention. His fingers itch to rub it off.

Cider Sweet by crispykrimi (13k, T+)

“Come over this weekend!”

Shouto takes a half step back, catches himself and adjusts his stance to be more grounded. His face is closing off rapidly- he has to do this quickly .

“Izuku-”

“Not- Not for the whole break! I know you’ve already made up your mind and I told you, I won’t stop you. But… just for one day?” Izuku takes a rushed breath, gaining speed as he pleads, “Spend Sunday with me. You can stay the night! My mom will feed you pumpkin bread until you puke and you can have at least one good memory from the break. Please?”

Fever Dreams by crispykrimi (12k, T+)

“It’s a cold, alright. It’s been going around. It’s usually a simple fix, but his quirk complicates things…”

“I think it might be my fault.” Izuku holds his elbow with one hand. “He’s been having, uhm,” he feels his cheeks heat. “Temperature fluctuations? A lot of them.”

Recovery Girl hums at him knowingly. “That would do it, wouldn’t it? Unfortunately his immune system is shot, and he just doesn’t have enough stamina for me to heal him. From his condition, I have to say he’ll most likely get worse before he gets better.” He had guessed as much… Izuku grits his teeth at the helpless feeling gnawing on him.

“However,” she says kindly. “He will be fine with a bit of rest. You’ll take care of him?” Izuku nods emphatically.

“Then we have little to worry about. He’s in good hands,” she takes his right hand in hers and pats it gently.

the price you pay for dreams by Captain (11k, T+)

Izuku is gone.

He just—disappears one morning. There's not even a fight going on at the time: he's just there one moment and the next moment he's not, as if spirited away by some mysterious sprite or stroke of magic, somewhere between the dorms and the main campus.

A Life Full of Dreams by ArgetCross (10k, T+)

Tomorrow, Midoriya would graduate UA and become a pro hero.

The sheer incredulity of having survived these last three years had hit him this morning. He had woken up at five am, ready to run to the gym to get to the good mats before class, until he realized there was no class. Midoriya had dropped back into bed and stared at the ceiling.

Or on beginnings and endings.

Hitsuzen by Methoxyethane (10k, T+)

He would have ended up falling for Izuku at some point no matter what, he was certain. No matter what path life took him down he'd have still ended up here, not because of anything as elaborate as destiny or fate but instead due to the simple fact of inevitability. Because Izuku was Izuku and Shouto liked just about everything about him, couldn't help but admire him and would always want to be around him, just for who he was.

fake it till you make it by writedeku (7k, M)

“Your d-d-d-date?” Izuku swears he’s overheating. He can almost feel the steam coming out of his ears. He’s lucky they’re the only ones in the room, because his face is so red, it could rival Kirishima’s hair.

“Yes. I would like it if you could pretend to be my boyfriend for the duration of the wedding,” Todoroki deadpans. “It would piss off my father.”

a huge mistake that wasn’t actually that huge by itenixol (6k, G)

shouto, being the biggest mess on planet earth, decides its a lovely idea to speak his feelings out loud to (what he thinks is) a sleeping izuku.

A Little Love Never Hurts (Until It’s No Longer a Little) by furihatachlookie (4.5k, T+)

It all started at the Sports Festival, and it all goes downhill from there. For Todoroki, at least.

not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all by theroyalsavage (3k, T+)

The proposition is simple: fake-date the single scariest human being on the planet so Todoroki Shouto can go out with his brother. The thing is, with Bakugou, Kirishima thinks he may have signed up for more than he’d bargained for. (A 10 Things I Hate About You AU.)

10!! THINGS!! I HATE!! ABOUT!! YOU!! AU!!

#tododeku #todoroki shouto #midoriya izuku #fanfiction #fic rec #masterlists #my hero academia #boku no hero #mha #bnha #tododeku masterlist #tododeku classics #long fic #short fic

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ellayuki · 4 years

Text

29.05.20

TRC Month Day 29 - Hitsuzen / Tsubasa Reservoir Chonicle / CLAMP / Fai POV / KuroFai

this dream of white flowers (make it come true)

"Do you think it was fate? Like Miss Witch was saying... That it was… inevitable?"

He doesn't look at Kurogane, preferring to keep his eyes on the pink, blooming flowers a few feet away. They're adorable, and they make him think of Sakura-chan.

Kurogane heaves out a breath, like he knows Fai is being an unreasonable idiot. It sounds terribly fond. Fai loves and fears it in equal measure. "What was?"

Fai lifts a hand, tugs lightly at a few locks of blond hair. "Everything," he says. "Everything that's happened in our lives, every choice we thought we made. Just…" He gesticulates vaguely with his arms. "All of it."

For a few minutes, there's only silence.

“No,” Kurogane says, eventually. “Not most of it.” And it’s not what Fai has been expecting.

“Most of it? Kuro-sama?” He asks, heart doing a summersault in his chest.

Kurogane sighs. “The Witch liked to say everything’s… hitsuzen, but.” A beat, like Kurogane’s choosing his words. Or at least thinking them over before letting them out.

“But?” Fai prompts.

“But truth is, none of us would have met, and traveled the way we have, if it hadn’t been for Fei Wang Reed’s machinations to change what was actually inevitable.”

Fai thinks about that, about all the lives Fei Wang’s choices touched and redirected. How many bright futures were snuffed prematurely. How many paths rerouted.

Maybe there is some merit to Kuro-sama’s words.

The thought makes something ugly squirm and wriggle its way to the core of him.

“Still,” he says, because he can’t give voice to that ugly thing just yet. “Even that might have been inevitable, beyond even what Miss Witch could tell. We can’t know.” He chances a glance at Kurogane. There’s a frown marring the ninja’s features. “For all we know, Kuro-sama, even this moment right now, right here, between you and me, has been fated, inescapable.”

He doesn’t like to think that maybe everything the man sacrificed for him was anything but his own choice. Somehow, the thought that it would have happened no matter what doesn’t sit well with Fai.

Kurogane snorts, amused, and it startles Fai. “Well,” the ninja says, turning to flick Fai’s temple lightly. “One thing was inevitable. Two, things, actually.” Fai looks up at him with wide eyes. This easy thing between them now will never not surprise him. “For one thing, you were always going to overthink everything.”

“Hey!” Indignation flares up, burning up the back of his neck and coloring Fai’s cheeks.

Kurogane flicks his temple again. Fai halfheartedly bats his hand away. “And second,” the ninja continues easily, carding his fingers through Fai’s hair, brushing it away from his face. “This, here, how you feel, how I feel, how the brats feel for each other.”

Fai’s breath gets stuck in his throat. That ugly little thing in his chest rears its head.

But it seems like Kurogane, as always, knows him, sees through him, more thoroughly than anyone ever has. “The feelings were bound to come,” he says, something unbearably gentle in his voice, in his red eyes. Fai bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying, from doing something stupid.

Kurogane’s big warm hand cradles his cheek. “After that bastard changed our initial, intended paths, after we gathered at the Witch’s shop… I believe every choice we made was our own. The kid, the second one, deciding to throw wrenches into that guy’s plans, the princess plotting behind our backs to change our outcomes in Infinity. You, choosing to try and reseal the kid’s heart inside himself.” He takes a breath, the pause barely noticeable. “My giving my blood and my arm to keep you alive. Those have been our own choices, Mage. The Fates have nothing to do with them.”

And when he says it like that, with such conviction in his voice, with that fire in his eyes… Well, what can Fai do but believe him? The squirmy thing behind his ribs withers and dies, and Fai feels light like air, like the first rays of sunlight after a cold, dark, harsh winter.

He leans his head forward, touching his hand to the back of Kurogane’s still on his cheek. Touches his forehead to Kurogane’s shoulder.

And he just breathes around the warmth in his heart.

#TsubasaChronicleMonth #Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle #Fai D Flourite #Kurogane #KuroFai #CLAMP #by moi #Fic #My Fic #Daily2020 #TRCFic

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accidentalsoulreaper · 3 years

Text

Get to know my faves.

List ten muses that you’ve enjoyed / you’re enjoying writing the most.

One for every fandom! In no particular order:

REPOST, DON’T REBLOG!

To be fair, most of my rp happened in forums, IRC, and in MMO’S or Skype. I did have a tumblr before, and my experiences on that one were very negative. Hence why I am so apprehensive over on the side blogs with my Alannahaisling blog. ^^ That said. These are MY Ten, aside from Homura!

1) Vol’jin A tried and true chieftain troll from Warcraft / World of Warcraft. I love this character to death. - (From the old tumblr)

2) Starfire from Teen Titians -(On IRC think... discord / skype? without the ability to call people)

3) Raven from Teen Titans. It’s obvious given I have Raven icons from a comic book scan for my role as Mun over here. (Again on IRC.)

4) Ruby from RWBY. I always loved this character, flaws and all, her hyperactivity and naïve way of looking at things I found endearing and always liked how she would always try to look on the brighter side of things. (This one was actually on face book messenger.)

5) Blake -Also from RWBY. - Not much I can say on this one, I have a connection with Blake, her past histories and backstory always resonated with me, and I always kind of just had an understanding of her on a deeper level? (face book messenger.)

6) Yuuko from xxx-Holic. (By Clamp) - Not going to lie here, I adore the way this character works. The way she’s a interdimensional witch that connects all the Clamp realities and grants wishes in mysterious ways, for a price. The way Hitsuzen works as she describes is also something that I found interesting and liked to explore. In fact I kind of want to do a verse with her pre Watanuki , and seeing just how many *other* fandoms and characters are aware of the wish granting witch, and her shop. (IRC)

Sadly that’s really all I can think of off the top of my head. Most if not all other characters have all been original brain children from my own head, and they all live in a collage dorm room, and argue like petulant children with muses from Fandoms.

Tagged by: @neverxalone

Tagging : I was late to the party. If ya haven’t done it feel free to do so.

#[dashboard tomfoolery]#[tags and memes]#answered #[ooc] yup. These muses

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rikacain · 4 years

Text

hitsuzen

many thanks to homefield and magnus.

written for the kakairu mini bang 2020 @kakairu-mini-bang. just in time!

summary:

All of Konoha’s citizens knew of her prophecy, one that predicted her future with alarming consistency. It had led her people well, through times of prosperity and the darkest of days, and would remain a guiding light for the murky future. It was an honour to be named within the most important record of Konoha's past, present and future, as one of the people significant to her survival.

Even if it named him only for his death.

----

Or, Iruka returns to Kakashi for a much-needed respite.

read it on: ao3

----

When Iruka stepped through the portal, Kakashi was waiting for him.

Inter-dimensional travel was far from easy. The boundaries between dimensions required a tremendous amount of energy to breach them, a natural resistance that kept dimensions from consuming and colliding into each other. Even with the most intricately painted of arrays that converted and channeled energy with minimum loss, to walk between worlds inevitably required the caster’s own energy.

For all of Iruka’s skills, his energy stores had always been far smaller than Kakashi’s.

The portal closed, burning itself out of existence. The exhaustion hit the moment right after, draining him of all his strength and leaving only an ache that settled itself deep in his bones; he listed to the side, automatic.

Instead of the ground, he fell into Kakashi’s chest: warm and steady, supportive. Kakashi had moved to catch him, having expected this very outcome; his kimono barely rustled from the motion. Today it was the swirl of painted koi fish against a shimmery azure fabric and the chartreuse flair of embroidered fronds, and the collar boasted an intricate pattern of smaller fish - guppies, perhaps.

Iruka let his eyes trace their flickering fins as they swam along and under the right collar where the pattern began.

“I’m home,” he told the fold of Kakashi’s kimono.

“Welcome home,” Kakashi murmured. All at once the exhaustion that dragged at Iruka's body turned into something less, something sweeter - the ache of setting down his bags at the end of a weary but fruitful day. And, not for the first time, Iruka recalled that words could hold as much power as the crispest of incantations and the smallest of sigils.

He tipped his head backwards, his tired gaze meeting Kakashi’s own. A smile spread across Kakashi’s face and tugged at that beauty spot - if Iruka wasn’t so comfortable in Kakashi’s arms, he would press a kiss to it.

“At least I didn’t faint this time,” he said instead as a yawn built at the back of his throat. “I think I’m building up some resilience.”

“I’ll believe it when you can stand on your own,” Kakashi hummed. He led them over to the engawa, settling Iruka next to a wooden pillar that Iruka might lean against. Iruka utilised it for all of three seconds until Kakashi sat down on his other side. It took the barest of efforts to shift his weight, to lean into the comforting presence of Kakashi.

“Believe it,” Iruka declared, even as his head tilted to rest on Kakashi’s shoulder, as he let it stay. As his heart warmed at the answering chuckle, low and fond.

They sat in silence, staring out into the expanse of the courtyard. The moon hung round and heavy in the sky, illuminating the zen garden that took up a good quarter of the space. Kakashi had rearranged it again with concentric circles rippling out from the centrepiece of the largest rock; in his signature whimsical touch, he had placed Mr. Ukki on the peak of said rock. A splash of green among white and black and grey.

Iruka turned away from the garden. “Any customers lately?”

“Some.” An answer more surprising than none, but not unexpected. The shop was accessible only through a highly restricted set of parameters - Iruka had painted it that way. “I had a boy in here the other day.”

“What did he wish for, then?” A saying came to mind, to keep your wish to yourself lest it did not come true. But there was also a saying - from another country, dimension, or maybe even time - that to say it aloud was to actualise it, to enter it into the realm of possibility. “More wishes?”

Kakashi sighed, a deeply mournful sound. “Every time you say that,” he complained, but there was a gentle pressure just atop of Iruka’s head: Kakashi's head, coming to rest lightly on Iruka’s own. “He felt constricted and wished to cut the ties that bound him.”

Bindings were often more than physical. “Which ones?”

“Debts and duties.” Iruka thought as much. “His teachers expect him to listen. His parents want him to become a doctor. His partner, a commitment, and his peers, to conform.”

“And his creditors want money,” Iruka guessed.

“And his creditors want money,” Kakashi confirmed. “I couldn’t help him with that, but I gave him the shears.”

“Oh, those?” Iruka had received them a while back, in a dimension where the red string of fate was visible and tangible. Where you could cut that string with the very shears, if you so desired. “I don’t suppose that went well at all.”

“I told him to be careful which ties he cuts.” Kakashi’s hand settled warm and comfortable over Iruka's hip; the heat of it comforting even through the fabric of his robes. “But you know children, and you know how closely they listen to warnings.”

Kakashi continued to talk about the boy, the strings he cut and some he regretted. How he had eventually returned the shears, and the price he paid to knot together the strings he had severed. Exhaustion pulled heavy and insistent at Iruka's eyelids, as Kakashi’s words subsided into a distant murmur, as the soothing motion of a hand carding into his hair lulled him closer to slumber.

It was all Iruka could do to remain awake, let alone listen to Kakashi’s story.

A chuckle, and the press of warm lips near his temple. “Rest, Iruka,” a voice said, unbearably fond.

Iruka rested.

-----

Something hard was sticking into his head.

Iruka pushed at it if only to sleep on something softer, like the pillow beneath it. It refused, and he grumbled at it, shoving at it again. When that yielded as much success as the first attempt, he elected to crack an eye open - only to be met by a stack of books balanced precariously on the edge of the bed.

“The Summer Prince,” one title read.

“An Inconvenient Flame,” another title declared.

He rolled over, all the better show that book its proper place, specifically somewhere more conducive to his slumber. Inevitably, he came face to face with more stacks with equally florid titles - all romance or more likely, erotica. The offending book - “Temptation of the Knight” accompanied by the depiction of a woman in shining armour pressed up against a wall by an apparently amorous and skimpily dressed princess - he grabbed and slapped it on top of a random stack where it had probably fallen down from.

The library was full again. Iruka would have to expand it.

The sticky cobwebs of grogginess still clung to his thoughts and eyelids, but he easily shook them away. A slow exhale, just the once, before he got up and extricated himself gingerly from the bookshelf pretending to be a bed.

Kakashi had taken the liberty to change him into something familiar and comfortable to sleep in. A liberty that Iruka gave freely, gratefully - and anxiously, as his hand reached down to cover the ugly scar etched into his side. The best kind of healing was one that did not care for aesthetics - it was from that kind of healing Iruka had to benefit.

Kakashi could not have overlooked it, as large as it was.

“You’re up.” His hand jerked away from the scar, as though magnetically repelled. Iruka looked up to see Kakashi standing against the doorway, clad in his sleeping yukata - a soft and worn thing that Iruka had brought back from their apartment long ago. It matched Iruka’s own. “Feeling better?”

“Much.” Iruka swept a doleful eye over the stacks of books all over the bedroom floor. “Making the bedroom into a library again?”

“All the better to get inspired with.” Kakashi leered openly and unashamedly. “I think you’d appreciate page 157 of ‘Wanted for Pleasure’.”

For all of Iruka's familiarity with sex, sex with Kakashi to be precise, it was too early in the morning for him to retain composure of any sort. The flush crept over his face and Kakashi, the terrible person that he was, saw that flush; his grin widened.

“I’m not appreciating anything until this room is cleaned up.” Iruka said as steadily as he could. “I don’t fancy getting hit in the face by a book while you’re getting inspired.”

Besides, expanding the library meant he could check on the wards. He gingerly picked his way across the floor, mindful of the mini-avalanches of literature he could set off. It was when he finally reached the door that he met his true obstacle: a hand curling smoothly around his waist and pulling him in until he was pressed up against Kakashi’s front, that smug grin all the more noticeable now that he was up close.

The hand slid downwards to squeeze at Iruka's ass. Twice.

“I’m already inspired,” Kakashi purred as his other hand joined its brother on Iruka’s other cheek. That hand squeezed, too, settling into a kneading that only pushed Iruka closer to Kakashi, to let him feel better the lean muscle of Kakashi's body against his own. “We don’t have to clean the entire room. Just the bed.”

“But the wards -”

“Can wait,” came the reply, right before Kakashi kissed him. It was a chaste kiss, gentle even, one that made Iruka chase Kakashi’s mouth for a second, and a third. Kakashi drew back and insisted, “They’re fine, Iruka.”

He relinquished his grip to hold Iruka close, closer, instead. To brush a strand of hair out of Iruka’s face, and twist a gentle finger around a lock of Iruka’s hair.

“It’d be a quick check,” Iruka tried to reason, before he noticed where Kakashi’s gaze had gone. Iruka looked, and - oh.

“A grey hair,” Kakashi said softly.

And so there was, mixed in with the dark brown strands.

Iruka knew the thoughts running through Kakashi’s mind just then. But the gentle morning light made him want things - things he did not have to sacrifice for, or feel guilty over. It made him want to pretend.

So he said with a smile he did not wholly feel - “All the better to match you with.”

Kakashi’s thumb rose to stroke that one grey strand, pale enough that it could have been his own, and Iruka waited as still as the mainspring of a watch, in that precise moment it could wind no further. It was only when Kakashi lifted that lock to his mouth and kissed it that a furtive relief unwound within Iruka - further still when he leant in to kiss Iruka again. When he held Iruka tighter.

“If we take off our yukata, we’ll match even better,” he said, dipping his head lower to mouth at Iruka’s neck. “Don’t you think?”

“I could be persuaded,” Iruka said and shivered as Kakashi nipped at the soft skin of his collarbone. But there was no persuasion needed, not really. A spell to lift all those books and put them into a tall stack - or several - in the corner hardly required little more than a wave of the hand. “Keep on doing that and maybe I will be.”

And when Kakashi finally pressed him down onto the book-free bed, their yukatas discarded carelessly across the toppled pile of books on the bedroom floor, Iruka found himself quite persuaded indeed.

-----

"I brought you these."

A squat brown pot, for feeding unwanted whispers and unreturnable secrets. A paper net, like the ones in the goldfish-scooping stalls, for catching something but surely and catching something but once. A book, the latest instalment in the Icha Icha series.

That last item was less a product and more an indulgence, but Iruka set it down on the table alongside the rest. Not everything had to be business, he thought.

Kakashi apparently agreed. "Icha Icha Blizzard," he said appreciatively as his finger traced the blocky script of its title. "I thought you didn't approve."

"I don't approve of you reading it in front of children," Iruka corrected and said nothing of his approval or lack thereof of the book itself. It was cowardly, but Iruka entertained the hope that it would appease Kakashi a day longer.

Apparently too much to hope for, as Kakashi set it back down onto the table if gently.

“So where did you go,” he asked.

“A dimension with ships that could fly in the sky.” The rush of the wind and the valley of clouds had been exhilarating, and Iruka could recall Naruto’s whoops as they soared over sprawling peninsulas and continents made miniature from their vantage point in the emerald sky. “Steam-powered, they claim. I would have taken a closer look at the engines, but…”

"There's never enough time," Kakashi finished the sentence, nodding. He would know. "Why?"

“There was a report of an unauthorised breach.” Kakashi kept staring at Iruka, expectant - the gaze of someone who was once meant to lead them all. “Tsunade suspected Akatsuki.”

“Was it?”

“Yes.” Iruka watched the line of Kakashi's shoulder draw taut. Inevitable. “We got into a skirmish.”

“How many of them?”

“Only one.” Iruka's hand twitched, perhaps towards the pot, momentarily weak and wanting. He kept both his hand and the pot where they were. “They don’t really consider me a threat.”

Not as much as you.

The unhappy tilt of Kakashi's mouth told Iruka he had heard the words left unsaid.

“Enough of one to run you through.” His eyes flicked to the newest scar hidden beneath Iruka's yukata. “Who was it?”

Iruka exhaled. He felt tired, far more tired than walking between worlds could ever make him. At the corner of the table, an hourglass stood - within it, the fine grain of sand suspended in a perpetual fall. A good conversation partner as any, more so when Iruka did not want this conversation.

“Does it matter,” he asked the hourglass instead. “Does it really matter?”

“As much as checking the wards does to you.”

His head shot up. Kakashi stared at him coolly, impassively. Iruka could only bristle.

“You know why I check them,” he said, a furious hurt sitting low in his chest. “You know -”

"And you know why I ask," Kakashi cut across him, merciless.

Iruka did. He did know why. Their reasons, they were the same.

Across the pot, the net and the book, that line dividing them - they stared at each other in a tense silence, neither willing to yield. Until Iruka finally bit out, "the masked one. Tobi."

Better Tobi than Itachi. Kakashi relaxed, if only the slightest bit - but he also said, "he's been appearing a lot lately."

"He has." Previous reports of Tobi described him as fickle and irresponsible, the weakest of the Akatsuki. From their various encounters and the sheer effort he put into his attempts to char Iruka into dust and ashes, Iruka begged to differ. "Maybe there's a promotion on the line."

Kakashi’s face darkened, and Iruka regretted his words - but not enough to apologise. Not when Kakashi brought up the wards.

"What do you want me to do, Kakashi?" Iruka asked before Kakashi could ask for every detail of that fight, that mission, and every mission after. He loved Kakashi, he really did, but he could not bear him picking at every decision Iruka made and comparing it to his own. They both knew Iruka never received the training that Kakashi did, that he never expected to. "What can I do now?"

“I don't know.” Kakashi's hands curled into themselves, into fists. Once they were renowned as the quickest hands to draw a wand, to spin a staff, to fight and to win - now they were as good as useless, here in this house that Iruka built. “I want you safe. I want you to stay.”

“I also want to stay.” Iruka said. He wanted to leave more, both of them together, but that was not an option. Not after what Iruka did. “But we can’t, and you know that.”

“Do I really?” Kakashi said, something dangerous and bitter curling in his tone. “We never tried, have we?”

“The prophecy -”

“Fuck the prophecy,” Kakashi said venomously.

“Like how you did, and now here we are?” Iruka snapped. This, he did regret saying, sucking in a sharp breath when Kakashi flinched. “I'm sorry. I -”

“I'm not,” Kakashi said sharply. He reached across the table for Iruka's hand, and for all of Kakashi’s impossible demands Iruka could not stop himself from reaching back, from grasping Kakashi’s hand tightly in his own. “I'm not sorry for what I did. Not if it means that you're still here.”

“I know,” Iruka answered. He could not ask Kakashi to feel guilty over his choice, not when Iruka had made his own. Their choices together, leading to where they were today. “But with all the acts I've done in your name, it's too late to turn back now.”

The strings of fate must be followed; all rivers led to the sea. The prophecy must be fulfilled.

Even if it had to be Iruka who carried it out.

They didn't have to bear it together. Kakashi would not say it, but it was Iruka's selfishness that kept him here. That same selfishness that kept Iruka's mouth closed, that kept him from offering what Kakashi could have.

If Kakashi ever asked, Iruka didn’t know if he’d be strong enough to let him go.

"I suppose it is," Kakashi finally said. He looked no happier for this admission - only bitterly resigned. But his hand remained in Iruka’s, substantial and warm, and for that Iruka was infinitely grateful. "I just want… I wish..."

“I know,” Iruka said heavily, even though they both knew that wish could never come true. “I know.”

-----

On his twentieth name day, Iruka was told of his impending death.

Even if it named him only for his death.

Prophecies were not fought against. Not when it guaranteed the survival of the dimension and certainly not when deviating from it meant another sacrifice, a greater one. But it was human, desperately so, to think of leaving for another dimension so obscure and unknown that no one could find him -

And human still, to stay. The stories of those who fought fate never ended well - and to never see the village he loved and the people within it again, to let them down so terribly and expose them to a crueler toss of the dice - that was a death unto itself.

So Iruka accepted his lot in life and lived on. He continued teaching, because his lessons would stay beyond his passing; he continued developing his sigils and arrays, because there would be a later scholar to further his work. And he continued to dote heavily on Naruto, because one day he would be unable to, and because he no longer knew how to do otherwise.

He had chosen to withhold the prophecy from Naruto, knowing that the boy would be young enough to not heed certain warnings, and impetuous enough to put it into his head that he could do something as grand as changing Iruka’s fate. Instead, Iruka penned a will bequeathing him the meagre possessions and rights under Iruka’s name, and a letter. Carefully updated with every milestone Naruto met and shot through, the letter contained a tangible proof of Iruka’s pride, and Iruka’s hopes for his future both written within and beyond the prophecy.

He hoped that when the time came, he would be able to say goodbye.

It was around then that he also met Kakashi: another figure in the prophecy, far more significant to Konoha’s story that the footnote Iruka’s death was. Important, larger than life, amazing - the Copy Magician, master of a thousand spells, a protector of Konoha and one of her saviours in the upcoming war. It had been a shock that Naruto would be apprenticed alongside two others under such a figure, and a surprise that Naruto’s instructor would meet his student’s parents - that Iruka qualified as such.

The Kakashi Iruka met was not the man lauded in the prophecy but someone much closer and within reach. He carried the weight of the prophecy with less assurance of his victory, and more direction towards success. The prophecy was not the be-all-end-all of their lives, a lesson he was intent on imparting to his students among others - it was not meant to be.

“Resting too much on the strings of fate may snap those strings one day,” he told Iruka once. It made Iruka certain that under all his flaws Kakashi was that figure that the prophecy spoke of.

It was only with a tinge of regret that Iruka would never witness him saving the village Iruka was fated to give his life for.

Yet Kakashi was also more - more than any description a prophecy could encompass. There were things it did not deem significant, like the crinkle at the corner of Kakashi’s eyes that was his smile, or the way his spine straightened just the slightest degree when meeting his friends - or the warmth that bubbled within Iruka’s chest when he realised Kakashi considered him one. And maybe there was the slightest bit of greed in Iruka too, to be the only one who knew the warmth of Kakashi’s hand in his own; the sweet vulnerability of his hesitation, in that moment before he pulled his mask down - before he leant in to press a kiss to the arch of Iruka's cheek and confessed.

It was the least cruel thing that Iruka could have done then, to tell him of his role in the prophecy.

In the wake of Iruka’s halting explanation, that vulnerability withdrew into something that curled tightly into itself, protecting itself from a pain it could not defend against. “That is an awful way to reject someone,” Kakashi said quietly.

Iruka shook his head.

“It would be easier,” he confessed, “if I could reject you.” That part of himself that still yearned for a chance to grow old, a life beyond his fate, knew that he could not. Surely this weakness was forgivable. “But you deserve an explanation that is better than a lie. I can at least give you that.”

It would have been easier too if Kakashi had steered clear of him after. Iruka was a herald of inevitable heartache, the worst kind of pain - it was only normal to avoid it, he thought.

But within days Kakashi returned, accosting him at - of all places - a supermarket, in front of the radishes and turnips display. There was a strange and determined gleam in his eye, one that made Iruka put down the blessed daikon he was holding instead of instinctively tossing it at Kakashi's head for the suddenness of it all.

“We all die one day,” Kakashi said in a rush and clasped Iruka’s hands in his own, before Iruka could even greet him with his politely rehearsed let’s-pretend-nothing-happened greetings. “I know everyone thinks I’m that magician in the prophecy - hell, I probably am - but it doesn’t feel that way to me. Every time I step into another dimension, every time I fight someone, any misstep I make means I could die.”

Kakashi dying before he could do all the things Konoha expected of him - the very idea seemed impossible; preposterous. But Iruka did not remove his hands from Kakashi’s grasp. He did not want to, when he had resigned himself to a muted regret when the chance - improbable and inadvisable and infinitely tantalising - remained.

And in that supermarket aisle, surrounded by radishes and vegetables of all kinds with the fluorescent light illuminating his face, his eyes, and all of his quiet sincerity - Kakashi declared, "I'd rather spend your remaining days with you than have no days with you at all."

When he put it that way, well. Iruka could hardly find it in himself to refuse.

-----

They had years, more than Iruka ever expected.

Every birthday filled Iruka with an intense gratitude that that year had not been the last; every anniversary he celebrated with a reckless and possessive joy. Sometimes he dared to hope that he might just live to see Naruto reach his age of majority when he would be told of his part in the prophecy, and imagined Naruto declaring that prophecy or no, he would carve out his own fate.

(And silently, selfishly - that maybe in that fate Iruka would still be there to see him do just that.)

Every year Kakashi remained, a constant presence in Iruka’s life. There was something invigorating about an achievement shared, a reciprocal celebration, a constant that could not be controlled - that someone would feel as happy for and with him, and every other emotion besides. In his more fanciful moments he imagined it was for this reason that birds sang, for the possibility that someone might just sing back.

That did not mean their relationship was without hiccups, naturally. Just because Iruka had a fixed date of expiration did not mean he could (or did) use it as an excuse to win every fight that they had, though at some times he did feel rather tempted to. The one time he did use it was to tell Kakashi in no uncertain terms that he would not spend the last of his days dwelling on his fate and jumping at shadows - that it was no way to spend a life at all.

Besides, it was immensely satisfying to show the master of a thousand spells one that he would be unlikely to ever master: Iruka’s latest array, so intricately designed it could freeze the passage of space-time.

“An entire month,” Kakashi said, appropriately impressed as Iruka proudly showed him the spider-lily, vivid red and petals unfurled in a perfect curve, the striking centrepiece of the array.

“There’s still more tweaking to do, of course,” Iruka interjected before he rambled on its limitations - that it could only anchor to a single object within the array, and the immobility of the array itself once affixed to the chronospatial coordinates - and future paths to development. Kakashi took in this information with the bemused expression of someone who knew the basics of the field but was still overwhelmingly aware of their lack of knowledge beyond. “But this is a huge step, and…”

I’d never thought I’d live long enough to get this far.

“I’m proud of you.” Kakashi said in that interval Iruka took to breathe and dropped a kiss onto Iruka’s head. For the briefest of moments, Iruka could focus on the press of warm lips against his skin, and forget how there were no events left in the prophecy between the present and his death. That it might come any day now. “I really am.”

“If you weren’t,” Iruka said, a beat slower than his usual repartee. “I’d have bound you to the couch for a month.”

Kakashi affected a gasp. “For an entire month?”

“Of course,” Iruka said in mock seriousness. “Results need to be replicable for propriety.”

With an air of great resignation, Kakashi shook his head gravely. “The lengths we’d go to for science,” he sighed theatrically.

Iruka could have extrapolated further on other array-based punishments - would have, on any other day. But all at once his darker thoughts surfaced: that the prophecy had not found his achievement sufficiently significant to record, only his death. And Kakashi, who was far more perceptive than he made himself out to be - and more so for all the people gathering about him wanting to know the legend and less the man - noticed.

“Iruka,” he prompted gently.

“Do you think they’ll remember me?” The question burst forth from him, unbidden. “I know it’s self-centred, but I want to be remembered for this, instead of being just… for my death.”

Though they went into this relationship with open eyes, Kakashi did not like to talk of Iruka’s impending death - and despite his general playful detachment, much less appreciate the gallows’ humour Iruka took to the matter. Iruka didn’t begrudge him that, not when he knew well the pain of being left behind.

But in the little time they had, whatever was left of it, maybe Kakashi saw fit to indulge him this once.

“They will,” he promised, a surprising ferocity in his voice that compelled Iruka to keep on looking at him. To listen and to accept what he had to say. “They won’t celebrate your sacrifice - they’ll mourn that it was necessary. Your knowledge, your skills, your presence - they’ll miss you.”

And, quietly, more devastatingly: “I’ll miss you.”

The urge to pull Kakashi into a hug, to cling to him as though death could not wrench away his grip, flooded through Iruka. He gave into it, stepping into Kakashi’s space and breathing in the scent of him, pressing a kiss to the curve of his jaw.

“I’ll miss you too,” he whispered just the slightest bit wetly into the crook of Kakashi’s neck, and did not see the steely determination that suddenly shone in Kakashi’s eye.

-----

This was what was supposed to happen:

The alarms sound. Iruka joins the forces in defence of Konoha. He dies, the tide of the battle turned, her invaders expelled. He is mourned, and Konoha lives on.

This was what happened:

The alarms sounded. Iruka got up from his couch, to join the forces in defence of Konoha. He turned to Kakashi for one last moment, grateful he would have a last goodbye.

Then, darkness.

When he woke up, he found himself in an array of his own design, one that offered a nigh impenetrable defence against almost everything. It had been a romantic gesture in his thoughts, to give Kakashi something that would help and protect him on his missions. That would be of use after Iruka was gone.

But Kakashi, the great idiot, had used it to trap Iruka instead. And Kakashi was missing, was gone, and Iruka was panicking as he dismantled his own creation. As he stepped out of the rubble of his apartment to an ongoing invasion and the unmistakable sounds of dimensional walls tearing apart as something forced its way through.

Did the prophecy account for this? Was it too late to set it to rights? He entered the fray, fighting and assisting and searching, frantically searching for Kakashi who fate would likely take its recompense from. Eventually, he found him - Kakashi fighting and defending and losing, against a foe that controlled blackened rods of magic-nullifying steel, driven into the ground and through bodies.

It was salvageable, Iruka thought wildly. This was where he was surely supposed to die, sacrificing himself for a loved one. It was a death he could be proud of.

He rushed forward -

(Fate was a finicky thing, obvious only in hindsight. Maybe it took its due when Kakashi pressed a goodbye kiss to Iruka’s forehead as he lay unconscious in the gifted array. Or when Iruka focused not on his loyalties and on Kakashi, a singular mindless goal instead of the selfless one he would be known for. Or when he decided that it was his death and not his sacrifice that was the prophecy’s call.

They would never know.)

- but not in time to prevent a rod pushing itself clean through Kakashi’s chest.

What happened after, Iruka would never fully recall. There had been another spell, a desperate attempt by Kakashi to protect Iruka from his foe: they were both teleported into the woods, where the sounds of Konoha under attack rang in the far distance. There had been Kakashi laying on the ground, dying, blood bubbling up through his lips and down his chin.

The cold and hard ground under his knees, the cold and clammy hand that rose to cup his cheek. The constant whine at the back of his head, drowning out Kakashi’s dying words.

There had been Kakashi’s last breath.

Then it was gone.

-----

There was a brush in Iruka’s pockets.

(Kakashi was dead.)

This was wrong. It was all wrong. Iruka should be lying there. Iruka should be dead. The wave of cold realisation washed over him: he was supposed to face that man with the nullifying rods, to tire him out for someone else to take down. This was supposed to be Iruka’s sacrifice.

Why did Kakashi put him in the array?

(Laughter. A kiss pressed against his forehead. I’d have bound you to the couch.)

The spider-lily. Stopping time. He had thought it a way to halt someone’s time, to allow them to seek the medical attention they needed before death could take them away. He thought...

(I’d rather spend your remaining days with you.)

The physical body alone was no good. What he needed was the soul. What he needed was Kakashi’s soul, if it was still here. Souls could be an anchor, couldn’t they?

(Your knowledge, your skills, your presence - they’ll miss you.)

A sigil to represent the soul. A sigil to represent Kakashi’s soul, specifically. He needed to draw it onto the body - the one anchor, piercing through the body and into the fabric of spacetime itself. Like pinning a thread into its place. He needed…

(I’ll miss you.)

He needed Kakashi to be alive.

-----

There was a brush in Iruka’s hands.

-----

It was raining.

Iruka looked out at the sky. A truly dreary day, with grey clouds blotting the sun entirely out of the sky, and the constant drum of the rain against the curved walls of the array. They formed rivulets of water, flowing down the transparent walls and seeping into the muddy ground below. The boundaries revealed: the furthest that Kakashi could go.

After the entire ordeal of binding Kakashi’s soul to his body, Iruka himself verged on the brink of exhaustion. It took several days of rest for him to return to the capital (surprisingly intact for having undergone an attack) and several hours to dissuade everyone aware of the prophecy from executing him then and there in a belated attempt to fulfil it. Specifically, it took telling them of Kakashi’s ‘death’.

In the grand scheme of things, the Copy Magician's death was probably more important than Iruka’s (absent) own.

The entire council was sent into an uproar. They sent for sigil experts from across the dimension in varying attempts to unbind Kakashi from the array; medi-mages next to effectively reverse death. When it became evident that there was no way for Kakashi to fulfil the prophecy from within the array, the desperate question became how to appease fate before she came collecting her dues.

The original oracle, Uzumaki Mito, had long passed. The Uzumaki line too had perished, save for Naruto who had no chance to learn the soothsayer ways of his bloodline. But there were other seers and oracles that Konoha could consult, and one such oracle was seated on the council of Konoha.

Utatane Koharu was a dour-faced woman, her white hair tied back into a stern bun. No one on the council was pleased with this turn of events, but it could be said that out of the entire congregation she was the most displeased, having advised more control and oversight over the subjects of the prophecy than Hiruzen and Tsunade was willing to accede to. But it was her voice alone they were listening to when she claimed that Kakashi occupied the unique space of being neither dead nor alive, and of having fulfilled the prophecy and being unable to.

The prophecy had foretold Iruka’s death. To subvert that, Kakashi had paid with his own, and in doing so he assumed Iruka’s duty to die for Konoha. But Kakashi was also alive, and still capable of performing his duty - to have someone, acting as his agent, to fulfil them in his name.

And as the beneficiary of Kakashi’s actions, it was only right for Iruka to fill that role.

“Koharu,” a fellow council member objected. “Hatake was an accomplished battle-mage. This man… how could he possibly fulfil the prophecy?”

“Hatake chose him,” she said coldly, her piercing glare landing squarely on Iruka. From that single glance Iruka suddenly knew that to her, Iruka was of more worth dead than alive. “For better or for worse, that was their choice. Umino would have to pay his debt or die trying.”

And the council so decided.

As master of the array, Iruka’s first task was to seal Kakashi and the space he occupied into a liminal space - that space, infinite and inconsistent, between dimensions. The safest place to keep things hidden in the impossibility of mapping an infinite plane. It was important to preserve Kakashi, at least until someone could figure out how to remove him from the array - to cheat not only the laws of magic but also death.

But the safest place was also the loneliest. The thought of Kakashi locked away, forever, with no one to talk to…

And that was how the shop was born, and the endless rumours of how to find it. Under the constantly flickering street lamp of the streets at midnight; in the shimmer of the air of the blistering summer days; cramped at the far end of an ignored alleyway. Some of them were true, most of them were not - but the mystery of the shop that grants wishes were far more compelling than its occupant.

Besides, Iruka reasoned, the council did not have the time to check on every urban legend and rumour, especially with the reconstruction and restoration of Konoha to undertake.

But even as he began the slow process of slicing and pinning the fine fabric of the dimensional walls apart - just the right amount to avoid cutting into the dimensions adjacent - Iruka couldn’t stop thinking about the protective wards that would best buttress the boundaries of the array, the characters that would repel every council member and the people they would send after them. An extra stroke, a sprawling script - things that would buy him more time to spend with Kakashi, finite though it was.

He could not stop himself from thinking, wondering, imagining - but he could stop himself from doing. Iruka loved people in Konoha, and was greedy enough to think about keeping both.

So mere days later, he set off on his second task and stepped through into a different dimension: to perform acts in Kakashi’s name.

The acts of prophecy were never straightforward, else they would not be told of. And for all the support Iruka was provided, Iruka was not Kakashi - he could never be. Utatane’s words were but a guideline, and not a certainty - and so there was always the constant awareness that failure was possible and usually imminent. That death followed closely in its footsteps, hovering and ready to claim.

And with every success, Iruka only stitched himself tighter into Kakashi’s fate. Tighter and tighter, to the point where referring to the Copy Magician could also mean Iruka himself, that they could expect amazing things from him when he was far from capable - so tight that sometimes he could not breathe, that he could not move in a way that the prophecy did not expect him to.

It was only here in this prison he made that he could breathe just the bit easier. That he could be relieved from that oppressive duty - that he could be Iruka, just Iruka, and nobody else.

A rustle of cloth just off to his side jolted him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Kakashi stepping out onto the engawa and dropping to take a seat next to him. His clothes carried the muted scent of tobacco - it had been a habit Iruka had told Kakashi off for before the entire debacle, if only out of concern for his health. Those concerns seemed so very trivial now.

They stared out into the garden and the untouchable sky beyond, where the rain was still trying its damndest to pierce through the veil. Existing in a liminal space meant surrendering certain aspects of the weather: the natural breeze sweeping in from an open window, the pervading heat of the sun beating onto his back, the petrichor of the early summer storms.

He wondered if Kakashi missed them. Iruka would.

“The shears.” Kakashi finally said. Iruka turned to look at him, at his hands - and there they were, small, smaller than Kakashi’s palm. The blades gleamed silver and sharp even in the muted light of the sun drowning in the clouds; the red tassel that swung from the curve of the handle the same vivid red of that spider lily so long ago. “You wanted me to use them.”

There was no accusation in Kakashi’s voice. There did not need to be. After Iruka left them with Kakashi and went onto the next dimension, he had thought of Kakashi holding the shears up, in front of himself. Of Kakashi tracing the red string that connected them together with one finger, lifting it apart from the rest.

Easing it between the blades.

Cutting it.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘want’,” Iruka said truthfully. There had been nights where the fear that he would return an empty shop and an emptier fate took hold of him, keeping him awake in the middle of the night. But... “But I did want you to have the choice.”

Any other person would have accused Iruka of not wanting to be tied down, of seeing or maybe even wanting a future without Kakashi. But the fact was there was no other way for Kakashi to release himself. Kakashi was not wrong - the wards were fine, would always be fine when the passage of time halted for them as much as it did for Kakashi. And Kakashi too would be fine, would always and forever be fine, and would continue existing here on this lonely plane for as long as Iruka existed - and beyond that, too.

The simple fact was, Iruka never needed the shears when he always had the opportunity. The choice.

Kakashi set the shears down in the narrow space between Iruka’s thigh and his own, where it glittered in the shadows. The silence that ensued after was less than happy, but wholly expected. They had lived long enough to know the way the other thought, the path their arguments treaded, the reasons behind the reasons that they would not say.

Kakashi would not cut the string for the same reason that Iruka always returned to him.

(Their reasons have always been the same.)

But walking in the circles, the same endless loop - it was tiring. Not only for Iruka, but for Kakashi too: no matter how much they wished to, Iruka could not ask Kakashi to not worry any more than Kakashi could ask him to stay. The shears merely represented a choice out of the few they could take.

Iruka could offer another.

“Am I…” Iruka began and stopped just as abruptly. There were the words he knew, yet he did not want them actualised, to open them to the realm of possibility. Words, once spoken and spoken carelessly, could bind people in the most unpredictable of ways. “Am I selfish?”

Kakashi did not answer immediately. For that Iruka was grateful - that Kakashi was giving his offer his full consideration.

And when his hand reached past the shears and curled into Iruka’s clenched fist, Iruka knew the answer.

“No more than I was.” His hand slipped further into Iruka’s own, holding it proper; from it relief rushed through Iruka’s entire body, tinged with the faintest aftertaste of bitter guilt. “No more than I am.”

He raised his gaze to meet Kakashi’s own - both of them hesitant, both vulnerable.

“We’ll be selfish together then,” he said softly.

In Kakashi’s eyes he saw the same steely determination that set off this entire chain of events - that led Iruka to say yes to a doomed relationship, damn the consequences. And Iruka could only watch as Kakashi placed his other hand on Iruka’s face, cupping it gently, as though he was trying to memorise every of Iruka’s features before he was inevitably called away.

“I once told you,” he began lowly, “that I would have what little you could give than to have nothing at all.”

How could Iruka forget? He nodded mutely and Kakashi continued as sincerely as that day when he stood among the rows of radishes, as the only thing he had eyes for then was Iruka. “I still feel the same way. I’d rather wait for you, than to have less of you, or not have you at all. For as long as you’ll have me.”

“For as long as you’ll have me,” Iruka echoed fiercely, as he placed a hand over Kakashi’s, keeping it in place. Like he could imprint Kakashi’s warmth onto his face and into his skin, an indelible handprint to keep him warm in the coldest of dimensions, in its snow-swept endless plains. “I’ll always return, for as long as you’ll let me.”

“Then grant me this wish,” Kakashi intoned, the formal beginning of an incantation. The heavy pressure of magic settled onto Iruka’s shoulders - not the pressure of the strings that council had bound him, that he bound himself with, constricting and unyielding - but the weight of a heated blanket in the middle of a chilly night, spread across weary shoulders with gentle hands. A weight he could shrug off if he so chose to. “I want to go when you go.”

Between them, the string of the tassel began to unravel, its frayed end rising upwards. Neither of them looked at it, not when Kakashi had not finished what he needed to say.

“Whatever dimension you’re on,” he told Iruka, “I’ll find you. I’ll find you and we’ll go together, but you’ll have to let me go with you.”

The offer, made. All Iruka had to do was to accept. But there was one last amendment he had to make.

“We’ll find each other,” he corrected. “We’ll go together.”

“We’ll go together,” Kakashi echoed, the glow between casting his face into sharp relief. His hand tightened on Iruka’s own, and Iruka squeezed back, as the string wove between their fingers, binding them together. As their fates were tied together, far more tightly than any prophecy could.

The contract, complete.

-----

Several days later, they stood together in the courtyard.

The sun was a good ways to its zenith, but Iruka only needed an afternoon to run errands in the capital before heading off to whichever dimension the council saw fit to send the Copy Magician to next. In fact, the morning had been particularly well spent by Kakashi wheedling all sorts of favours out of Iruka, ranging from helping him undress, washing his hair - “I can’t very well go out for a hairdresser,” he said and pouted exaggeratedly up at Iruka - making him breakfast, and sitting down while Kakashi made the actual breakfast after Iruka charred the bottom of the pan a thick and crusty black.

“I’m not sure what you expected,” Iruka had said helplessly as Kakashi set the table. “I mean, I told you -”

“I expected you to make a sandwich,” Kakashi said. “Bread, some tuna. Maybe vegetables if you’re feeling adventurous.”

“But you like -”

“But mostly I didn’t expect you to burn the pan,” Kakashi finished cheerfully. “How d'you even do that? Pyromages would be jealous of your natural talent.”

Iruka bit into his rice ball and sulked, but relented shortly after when Kakashi made the appropriate please-forgive-me noises and fed Iruka out-of-season chilled melon balls.

Now here they were in the courtyard, a few minutes away before Iruka would open the portal back into Konoha. It would be an equally exhausting trip back, but in Konoha there were medi-mages on call to get travellers back onto their feet after walking through worlds.

“I’ll bring the children next time,” he told Kakashi even though Naruto was close to shooting past Iruka’s height. “I’m sure Sakura has some stories to tell you of her adventures in other dimensions.”

“But I’m only interested in those that include you,” Kakashi said in a show of unredeemable sappiness, especially when Iruka knew he would listen to whatever tales Sakura (and to a reasonable extent, Naruto) had to tell even if she had written them all down in the previous letters to Kakashi. In Iruka’s hand was such a letter to her, a reply, and more letters to many others who did not quite have the expertise (or the authorisation) to open dimensional tears at will or the knowledge where this particular tear was. “Especially the ones where you get naked.”

“You want me to get naked in other dimensions?” Iruka asked dubiously.

“In this dimension only, please,” Kakashi amended.

A small chime went off somewhere in the folds of Iruka’s robes, his cue to feed energy into the transportation array. It began to glow a familiar blue, as sigils flickered into existence midair, almost as brightly as the unrelenting sunlight.

“I’ll be off,” he said, entirely reluctant, as the seams of the dimensional walls came apart, carving a fiery hole into the air. On the other side he could see the arrival platform for cross-dimensional travels, busy as usual. “Try to keep the books in the library instead of your bedroom, won’t you?”

“I make no promises,” Kakashi declared playfully, even as his hands curled tightly into the collar of Iruka’s robe and pulled him in for a kiss - and another. The last kiss he left lingered, and Iruka could not stop himself from missing him already. “Stay safe?”

“I’ll try my best.” He stole one last kiss from Kakashi before taking a step through the portal, and into Konoha proper. The energy drain set in immediately, knocking the breath out of him; from the corner of his eyes he could see the medi-mages hurrying towards him in anticipation of his certain collapse.

But there was something he wanted to say before he went off to his next task, a certainty that hung between them. He turned back towards Kakashi. “See you soon?”

Kakashi lifted his hand for one last wave. Around his little finger was a strip of red string from the tassel, tied in a simple knot; around Iruka's own, a matching string and knot. Binding them across dimensions and time and even fate itself, so tightly that even the shears might not be able to cut those ties away.

“Of course,” Kakashi promised. “I’ll see you soon.”

As the portal burnt itself out of existence and Kakashi out of Iruka’s sight, there was the slightest tug on his little finger. The gentlest of reminders.

We’ll go together, Iruka thought to himself, and knew it as a certainty, reassuring.

A promise that they could always fulfill.

#kkir #kakairu #umino iruka #hatake kakashi #kakairu mini bang #fic

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