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wlwreader · 3 years

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Dancing with the Devil

A/N: Just a little preamble before you start reading. This Natalia is pretty different in the way she treats reader in this fic compared to my other fic for a few reasons(Devil’s Advocate. Not a necessary read for this one, but if you enjoy this fic you’ll definitely enjoy that one) I had kind of come up with like I guess my own little world. So I considered the black box+collar from my other fic to be a marriage proposal of sorts. You’re pretty much her soulmate, in that you’re souls are bound in a way after you’ve put the collar on. Yes in my world succubi and incubi can only take one mate, so you’re her personal juice box for eternity and she’s allowed to feel some type of way

Summary: You’re back where you belong.

Warning: Somnophilia, Dacryphilia, Voyeurism if you like squint real hard, Overstimulation, Ruined Orgasm, Oral Fixation again if you squint but not as hard, Kitten/Pet and Mistress calling, oh and uh Tail Fucking

WC: 5.2K+

Pairing: Succubus!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Days pass in a blur after that night, Natalia having burrowed her way into your every thought, forcing you to continue your life on autopilot. Even in your dreams she haunts you, mind plagued with visions of gleaming red eyes and that devilish grin that always sends your pulse racing (for reasons you refuse to admit to yourself). You try desperately to convince yourself that there has to be a reason she won’t leave your mind, that she must’ve put some kind of hex on you or maybe it’s some lingering effect from being railed by a succubus, anything other than you wanting her. You can’t want her, not when the only way you’ll ever be able to see her again is becoming some sort of sex slave...forever. In any other context, being someone’s fuck toy for the rest of your life would be nice, might even be considered ideal, not having to worry about your financial state and the promise of good sex. But forever with an immortal being? There’s really only one way for you to interpret that and eternity is a terribly long time to be someone’s personal plaything...right?

You shouldn’t even have to try to convince yourself that it’s something you don’t want. No matter how sinfully good she is with her mouth or how she seems to know all the right angles to hit just the right spot that leaves your toes curling and your eyes rolling towards the back of your head or how-

You flop back onto your bed with a groan, trying to stop that train of thought from progressing any further before you’re doomed imagining all the things you want Natalia to do to you for the rest of the night. A sigh slips past your lips as you roll on your side, ready to force yourself to fall asleep, when your gaze lands on the small black box that still rests on your bedside table and all your dirty thoughts come rushing back to the forefront of your mind, followed by a faint throbbing between your legs.

A hand trails subconsciously down to the apex of your thighs, eyes falling shut when you find your slit, slick with want. Your mind wanders from scene to scene, each wildly different from the last, but all of them featuring Natalia. Your breath slips past your lips in soft pants as you circle your clit, free hand tracing a path up your abdomen to grope your breast for a moment before you’re tweaking your nipple, back arching with a quiet moan.

Your fingers dip down, sinking into your leaking hole, when you hear a shuffling noise followed by a soft click. Immediately, you freeze, eyes wide as you sit up and scan your dimly lit room. No one...not a person or creature in sight. The windows are closed and still looked to be locked after squinting through the darkness of your bedroom for a long second and your door doesn’t seem to have been opened. You look around your room again, hand reaching out in the dark for any kind of semi-heavy object you could use as a potential weapon, when it meets the now open top of the box sitting on your nightstand.

Was she here now? Watching you? Have you been on her mind just as much as she’s been on yours?

A shiver runs up your spine, a smile teasing the corners of your mouth at the thought as you sweep one last look around your quiet bedroom. You reach for the lamp on your bedside table, turning it on while you eye the lacy black collar proudly on display resting inside the box before gently scooping it out, the small bell attached to the front ringing and clinking against the name tag. Your fingers trace over the red stitching lining the top and bottom, then down to tug on the matching red bow and around the back to undo the small ribbon that ties the two ends together.

You pause for a brief moment, reconsidering, but the throbbing of your clit is far louder than that little voice of reason trying desperately to coax you back to thinking clearly and so without any further hesitation, you wrap the collar around your neck and secure it in place.

The silence of your bedroom is almost deafening as you wait...and wait…..and wait, til the ache that’s taken home between your legs expands, enveloping you whole.

The bell on your collar rings with your movements as you lay back, the sound muffled by the thrumming of your heart pounding in your ears. You ignore your hurt feelings (whatever feelings those may be) and focus on the wetness that’s gathered at the apex of your thighs, fingers fucking into yourself long into the night until you fall asleep, your hand tucked into your bottoms and the collar still resting around your throat.

Your dreams are more vivid than usual, almost as if replaying the memories and sensations of your night with Natalia. Images of her head buried between your legs, the vague feeling of hands gripping your hips, soft hair tickling the insides of your thighs and the warmth of a mouth teasing your slit has you squirming in your sleep.

The throbbing of your clit slowly lulls you awake, the feeling of fingers pushing into your heat pulling a shaky, high-pitched whine from your lips while your hands subconsciously reach down to tangle in soft waves (your fingers brushing against something famillarily ridged and curved has your heart fluttering happily) and pull that heavenly mouth back towards your clit.

A tittering laugh has you finally dragging your eyes open and you’re blessed with a view of a grinning Natalia, pointed teeth on display and her crimson eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Did you miss me, kitten?” The words come out low and muffled, Natalia not waiting for an answer as she presses her face back in towards your cunt and dragging one of her fangs gently across your clit.

Your back arches, bell on your collar jingling softly as you throw your head back into the pillows beneath you, an intense orgasm rushing through you without warning, your clit unexpectedly sensitive. Fuck...just how long has she been buried between your legs before you were dragged from your dreams?

Muscles relaxing, you land on the soft black silken sheets with a blissful sigh, her husky chuckle ringing pleasantly in your ears. Your hands fall away as Natalia trails burning kisses across the insides of your thighs, her breath cooling your slick and sweat covered skin when she speaks, “It’s about time you woke up, pet.”, her lips continue their path, bruises slowly blooming beneath her touch as she sucks and nips along your hips, up your stomach to trace the shape of your breasts before she mouths at the stiffened peaks, teeth capturing your nipple and tugging. Air hisses out past your lips as her fangs dig into your sensitive skin, your hands finding her fiery hair again. The onslaught of kisses continues up your throat until she pulls you into a heated kiss, her tongue slipping past your lips and you can’t help the whimper you let out when you taste yourself.

Natalia pulls back, air fanning across your face from her huff of quiet laughter as you chase her lips, eyes still closed. When you meet her gaze you’re almost shocked to see how vibrant the red of her irises are, as if they’re almost glowing, until your gaze sweeps up to admire her obsidian like horns, reminding yourself that she’s a succubus and she IS feeding off of your sexual energy. For the first time, you wonder what kind of power she holds.

She shifts to straddle you, the feeling of her hot, dripping cunt resting against your stomach pulling you out of your thoughts. Your hands reach out to grip her bare thighs, but a raise of her eyebrow has you dropping them uselessly at your sides as you’re reminded who’s in charge. She shifts again, hips subtly rolling with a breathy sigh falling from her mouth before speaking, “Although I can’t really complain about you sleeping so long. Not when you taste so…”, she pauses, tongue snaking out to drag across her plush lips, “Devine.” she practically purrs, eyes hooded while the corner of her mouth pulls up into that devilish smirk that has your pussy clenching.

Natalia’s hips rock down again, dragging her clit across your stomach before she leans back, hands braced above your knees as she starts grinding down in earnest, eyes falling shut. You’re enraptured by the sight, eyes flitting from her beautiful face, delicate features scrunched in pleasure; down to her heaving chest, perky breasts and pebbled nipples prominently on display. Slowly, your gaze falls further down along her body, taking in every inch of smooth flawless skin and soft curves, your mind consumed by thoughts of how utterly perfect she is, as if she were sculpted by god themself, before your eyes land on the trail of slick coating your stomach and Natalia’s puffy, leaking cunt while her hips continue to rock against you. You can practically feel your mouth water at the sight, an involuntary whine slipping past your lips as you realize just how much you crave to finally taste her, to please her.

Her breathy laugh has your eyes shooting back up to meet her vivid crimson stare, cocky smile on display when she teases you,

“What is it kitten? Are you not enjoying the view?”

You can’t stop the heat shooting to your face as you try to remember how to actually speak, mouth moving before your brain can form an actual sentence and tripping you up on your words. She laughs again at your stammering, clearly amused by her toy.

“I..I wanna-- c-can I taste you, Mistress?” desperation seeps through your voice as you lie underneath her, fists balled in the sheets trying hopelessly to fight the urge to reach out and touch her.

Natalia grins, pearly fangs catching the light and drawing your attention, just in time to watch her tongue flick out to wet her plush lips. The way her red gaze takes you in sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help the way the blood rushes to your face or the way your heart stutters in your chest.

“Please…” the word leaves your mouth in a whimper and Natalia’s eyes soften just a tad, though her wicked smirk is still painted across her lips.

She hums, hands moving from the tops of your thighs to run up along the sides of your chest; lithe fingers dancing across your ribs to cup your breasts and tweak your nipples, pulling a whine from the back of your throat, “I suppose I could put that pretty little mouth of yours to work finally,” her hands continue their path, nails tracing up the column of your throat and toying with tag on your collar. She’s watching you intently, eyes soaking in your flushed and disheveled appearance, thumb dragging across your bottom lip. Your mouth parts and in a trance-like state, you nip the digit, tongue teasing the tip of her thumb before enveloping it in the warmth of your mouth. Natalia’s pupils seem to dilate further than before, the inky blackness slowly swallowing the red of her irises. You watch as she shakily exhales and the pride that swells in your chest has your tongue working her finger just that much more, eyes falling shut as you start to lose yourself in the motions. The squeeze of her strong thighs as she grinds her heated cunt harder against your stomach reminds you of the question you had just asked and you look up, your gaze meeting nothing but black as she stares back at you. “Would you like that, pet?”

The words leave her mouth in a breathy exhale and she hasn’t even finished speaking before you’re rapidly shaking your head yes, eyes trying their best to convey how much you ache to serve her. You watch hungrily as her soaked cunt nears your face, Natalia’s hands tangling in your hair and tugging your head to meet her wet folds.

“Then make that greedy mouth useful.”

You don't have to be told twice, not when you’ve been plagued with dreams and fantasies of her soaking your face in her cum, and eagerly your tongue flicks out to trail along her puffy lips a few strokes before parting them with deeper licks. She sinks down with a hum, pussy pushing further into your mouth as her nails scratch at your scalp. The taste and sensation of her cunt dragging along your tongue is almost enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You’ve never tasted someone so sweet and you can’t stop yourself from gripping her thighs and thrusting your tongue into her quivering hole with a greedy groan, trying to lap up as much of her wetness as you can.

The heady moan you’re rewarded with sends a pulsing heat straight to your clit. Her hands tighten their grip in your hair, hips slowly rolling along your mouth as you reverently devour her cunt, eyes closed in pure bliss while your tongue fucks her leaking hole.

You can hear Natalia’s heavy breathing above you as she uses you for her pleasure, the soft moans cascading from her parted lips are interrupted by a gasp when you finally manage to pull yourself away from the never ending slick dripping from her cunt to latch your mouth around her neglected clit. You suck, tongue lashing out to tease the swollen bud before she’s bearing down on you with a loud keening moan, powerful hands holding your head in place as she grinds her clit against your willing mouth.

“Fuuuck, that’s right kitten,” her rasping voice is shaky and your cunt throbs, knowing you’re the reason why, “eat my pussy like it’s your last supper.”

Her words pull a whine from the back of your throat, the vibrations shooting straight to her sensitive clit and the sound that leaves her mouth has you seeing stars as you cum; thighs squeezed together, pussy clenching around nothing as you shudder and moan under her.

Who knew demons could make such desperate pitiful noises?

Your orgasm doesn’t go unnoticed, if the tail teasing your twitching hole and the trembling laugh above you are anything to go by.

“Enjoying this, are we?” You don’t have to open your eyes to know she’s smirking, you can hear the smugness in her voice even as it wavers with every roll of her hips. “If I knew how ea-” she cuts herself off with a deep rumbling moan as you easily sink two fingers into her wet heat, digits immediately curling up to search along her walls for the spot you know will reduce her into a quivering, moaning mess.

Her tail pushes into your soaked slit as a dragged out yes hisses out past her teeth. The way Natalia’s hips buck against your fingers and mouth fucks her slick tail into just the right spot inside your fluttering cunt and soon your muffled moans join hers in a sinful symphony as she takes what she wants from you.

“Oh, you’re going to make me cum, pet.”

The words renew what little willpower you have left and with great effort, you stave off your impending orgasm to force your eyes open and focus on fucking your Mistress. You’re blessed with a sacred sight. Her back is arched beautifully, pushing her hungry cunt as far into your mouth and fingers as she can and putting her perky, full breasts on perfect display for your greedy eyes. Your free hand is reaching out without a thought and you watch as Natalia’s mouth falls open, freeing her bottom lip from between her fangs, while her brows furrow and her nose scrunches up in pleasure. You squeeze her tit, appreciating the softness under your palm and watch as her chest stutters, her breath faltering for a second before picking up again. Experimentally, you drag a nail against her pebbled nipple then take it between your fingers and pinch.

Her nails dig into your scalp as she smothers her pussy against your face til you can’t breathe and you’re sure you’re going to die, suffocating happily between her thighs when she freezes on top of you. You feel the tell tale signs of her upcoming orgasm when her walls flutter around your digits, desperately trying to pull them deeper and eagerly you drag your fingers from her quivering hole to join your other hand in their ministrations so that your tongue can once again taste the saccharine-like slick. The thighs encasing your head tighten as your tongue plunges and curls in her cunt until Natalia is gasping out a moan and her cum soaks your face.

If you thought her pussy tasted heavenly, you’re sure her cum is the nectar for the gods. Your eyes roll back as you lap at the mouth watering wetness leaking from her, your own cunt spasming as her tail frantically fucks into your sopping hole until you're sure she’s hitting your womb with every thrust.

Natalia has stopped shaking atop you, her hands and thighs loosening their hold around your head but she doesn’t make a move to get off you. In fact, her hips are rolling along your mouth again as you practically sob against her cunt from the intense pleasure between your own legs. Your hands grip desperately at her hips and thighs, eyes squeezed shut as you futilely try to chase your orgasm. You’re so close, god, you’re so close, but the edge stays just out of arm's reach and you can’t stop the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, nor can you stop them from falling, disappearing into your hairline and rolling down to join the mix of slick and cum coating your face as you cry and writhe pathetically under your her.

“You cry so cutely for me, kitten.” She purrs, “Let Mistress see those pretty, tearful eyes.”

The wild thrusting of her tail has died down to a slow crawl, dragging you away from the peak you were so pitifully chasing and so, with a whimpering sniffle, you dutifully open your eyes to meet Natalia’s pitch black gaze.

You can see the shiver of pleasure that runs through her body as you stare up at her with sad wet eyes, a shudder of your own wracking your body at her hum of “Good girl.” when you give her sensitive clit and cunt small kitten licks to clean up the rest of her cum. Her hands brush away any of your wayward hairs from your face before she drags a thumb along your temple, collecting your tears on the digit. You watch as she slowly brings her thumb to her mouth, gazes locked as her tongue slips past her lips to teasingly lick the salty liquid away with a quiet moan.

Your pussy clenches around her tail at the sight, her tail twitching inside you in response and briefly you wonder if she can actually feel pleasure fucking you with it before you’re completely pulled from your thoughts as her pace starts up again.

With a sigh, she drags her cunt away from your soaked mouth and immediately your loud moans fill the once quiet room. Her body slides pleasurably against yours as she moves to lie atop you, chests pressed together and legs tangled as her tail continues to pump into your soaked hole. The tip of her nose trails your collarbone then up along the column of your throat, breathing in the scent of sex. Your hands tangle in the soft fiery waves of Natalia’s hair as she kisses above the collar resting against your neck before sucking the unblemished skin between her lips to bite and mark and claim and fuck your pussy just gushes at the thought of being her’s.

You lick your lips, a whine pulling from deep within your chest at the taste of your Mistress still coating your face, bringing you just that much closer to the edge. The appendage fucking into you twists and writhes in ways you’ve only ever felt her tongue do, but the added thickness of her tail has you hurtling towards climax, head thrown back, collar jingling as you press your neck further into her greedy mouth.

Your eyes are screwed tightly shut and your pussy quivers painfully, walls sore from the constant fluttering, and just as you start to crest the peak, her tail slips itself from inside you and your hole clenches miserably around nothing while you cum. You’re already crying again when your body relaxes, sobs bubbling past your lips at the ache between your legs and the still pent up frustration your ruined orgasm failed to rid you of.

Natalia pulls away from your bruised neck to admire her work, mouth parted in quiet awe at the sight of her cum covered, sweat soaked, crying pet; and reverently, she kisses along your jaw and cheeks, tongue lapping at the mix of cum, slick, and tears that coat your face, whispers of how pretty you look when you cry gracing your ears.

She leans back when she finishes cleaning your face of her mess and your eyes finally open again when nothing happens after, tears still trailing slowly along your temples and disappearing into your hair as you sniffle, just to find her watching you keenly. Only when your gazes meet does her tail dip down between your legs to sink into your poor sensitive cunt once more. It’s gentle in its movements, but that doesn’t stop the fresh wave of tears from welling up in your eyes as the pain ever so slowly starts to outweigh the pleasure.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the tears that gathered there cascading in rivlets along your face, as the tail brushes along your walls, pressing into your g-spot. You can hear the click of Natalia’s tongue in disapproval as she tuts you.

“Keep your eyes open for me, kitten.”

Fuck her voice is so sultry and rasping and you can’t stop your cunt from tightening painfully around the thickness inside of you at the sound. Her tail thrusts a little harder, hitting something inside you and pulling a choked sob from the back of your throat.

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” The words are growled into your ear and your eyes fly open. You can feel her tail twitch inside you again while she takes in your whimpering cries, tearful face, and sad desperate eyes. She plunges her tail deep within you again and you wail out in painful pleasure, eyes forced shut as your head tilted back into the bed.

There’s a low trembling groan from above you and before you have the chance to open your eyes once more, Natalia’s mouth is on yours, swallowing every whine and wail as her tail fucks into you deeply, twisting to hit every pleasurable, painful spot inside your pussy. Your hands tighten in her hair, holding her against you while you sob into her mouth, and your legs untangle from hers to wrap around her waist.

You’re close again, so painfully close and you don’t know whether you want her to finish you off or ruin your orgasm again, not when you know both options are going to hurt, but you don’t get to choose. You never had an option in the first place. Your Mistress knows just what she wants from you and she’ll take it, no matter what you say.

“I want you to cum for me.” She’s trembling, pressed against you, voice thick and shaky with pleasure and you nod frantically. She buries her face against your chest, mouth marking every available inch of skin within her reach. Your crying is louder without her tongue to muffle you and with every sniffle and sob, you can feel her tail jerk inside your trembling cunt. Natalia latches her mouth onto one of your nipples, pointed teeth burying into sensitive flesh and your fingers digging into the base of her horns as you cum with a keening wail.

You can feel more than hear her cum with you as her moans ring through your chest, her tail squirming in your aching hole. Your pussy bears down on it, nails scratching at her scalp and catching on the ridges of her horns trying desperately to stop the painful pleasure wracking your body. The thickness inside you thrashes when your fingers scramble along the ribbed protrusion on her head and your sluggish mind slowly puts the two together, hands dropping to clutch at the nape of her neck and drag her into a sloppy kiss.

The moment your hands leave Natalia’s horns, her tail stops writhing and you breathe a sigh of relief into her mouth. Your lips disconnect as she pulls back slightly and when you open your eyes finally, you’re met with the quite literally glowing red eyes of your Mistress. As gently as she can, her tail slides out of your aching pussy, watching as your face pinches in pain at the soreness and she kisses your furrowed brow, nose brushing along your forehead and temple as she trails her lips down to press more kisses along the apples of your cheek and your scrunched up nose.

It’s all so unexpectedly soft and distracts you enough from the burning stretch of the bulging end of her tail when she pulls the last few inches out that you don’t even cry out, though she’s quick to kiss away any silent tears that escape because of the pain.

“Are you okay?” Natalia breathes out. She’s watching you closely, intently, and when you nod yes, you’re blessed with your first genuine smile. No cocky devilish smirks or seductive, hooded eyed smiles. Just the smallest of quirks play on the corners of her lips, but it’s enough to have you staring up at her in silent reverence.

“Good.” She whispers and then, “Can you talk?”

“Y-yes.” The words come out quiet, hoarse, and trembling, your throat raw from all your crying.

You clear your throat and try it again, “Yes Mistress.” it’s just as rough as your first try, but at least the shakiness is gone.

“Good girl.” She’s still whispering, voice soft while she takes you in before she finally rolls off of you to sit up against the headboard of the bed. She’s patting the open spot between her legs, an invitation or a silent command, you’re not sure but you move your tired body to rest against her’s anyway. Your back is pressed against her front, your head rests against her pillowy breasts while her’s rests atop your own, chin pressed to the crown of your head and her left arm wrapping around to secure you against her. Her free hand stretches out in front of both of you and you watch in amazement as a fresh, cool glass of water appears right before your eyes in her outstretched hand, complete with a red striped straw.

She’s bringing it up to your mouth urging you to take the cup from her, her voice gentle against your ear, “Drink this for me, kitten.”

You nod and do as you’re told, taking the refreshingly cold water from Natalia to start sipping and watching while two, what you think are, rags appear in her once again outstretched hand.

“Hold this.” She’s handing you one and you grab it with your free hand, feeling the warm damp cloth between your fingers and you think you can feel your heart melt when you realize what she’s doing. Slowly, she guides your legs open, not one word said while she dutifully and carefully drags the warm rag across the insides of your thighs, cleaning the drying slick from your skin. She trails the fabric closer to your sore center, just barely brushing your outer lips as she cleans the apex of your thighs, before running it along your overly sensitive slit as softly as she can, hushing you quietly when you whine and squirm.

You can feel her press a kiss to the top of your head as she finishes, then she’s leaning back, left hand under your chin tilting your head, your bell twinkling softly, to look up at her while her right is taking the second rag from you. Her eyes follow her hand as she slowly sweeps the cooling rag across your lower face, wiping away any remaining remnants of cum coating your cheeks and chin. When she finishes, she gives you another kiss, this one lingering on your forehead.

The used rags vanish and she hums as she brushes stray hair from your face and you can’t help but to stare up at her with big doe eyes, melting under her gentle touch. You can feel the chuckle build in her chest before it flows richly from her full lips and you can hear the amusement that tints her voice when she speaks again, “Finish your water, kitten.”

Despite everything that’s just happened, you still feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you quickly go back to drinking your water. It only takes you a few more seconds before you finish your glass.

“Would you like more?” You shake your head no and the glass disappears from your hand. “Do you need anything else, pet?” Her hands are softly stroking along your sides, stomach, and thighs, fingers massaging into any sore muscles they find.

“No, Mistress.” You’re quiet as you speak though your thoughts are loud, overcome with questions that soon fall into the recesses of your mind when she starts to shift lower onto the bed.

Natalia pulls you over her while she settles onto her back, tucking you into her side and wrapping her arm around your waist, pulling you flush against her. You don’t hesitate to bury your face against her neck, your collar ringing with the movement and her chin resting against your head once more. Your leg and arm are thrown across her and you snuggle as close as you can with a content, sleepy sigh. She’s humming some soft unknown tune quietly, hands tracing patterns into your back and vaguely, you register the slithering sensation of her tail wrapping itself along your leg.

Briefly, your mind flashes back to the Natalia that left you in your bed all those nights ago with her cum leaking from between your legs and you can’t help the words that fly from your mouth.

“I didn’t know demons were into aftercare.”

She huffs a laugh, the air hitting the top of your head, and you hide your smile against her skin when she replies, “I’m a succubus, kitten, not evil.”

She must feel your mouth open against her, because before any sound can escape your parted lips, she’s shushing you.

“I know you must have lots of questions, pet.” You hum a yes when she pauses waiting for your reply, then continues on, “I thought so. But now is the time for sleep.” One of her hands leaves the expanse of your back to run through your hair, nails dragging pleasantly along your scalp and you feel as she leans down, lips brushing across your forehead as she whispers. “I promise I’ll answer all your questions in the morning.” A kiss, then “Now, go to sleep kitten.”

You do, a small smile stuck to your lips.

#LOL like 2 years later right?#anyway really wanna thank everyone who's still here despite me being gone for forever #like whaaaaa???? why are you here?? i come back from the land of the dead to complain and leave and youre still patiently (probably not)#waiting for a fic?? really?? bless you #<3 #anyways i learned a lot about myself un personally while writing this and i hope you guys enjoy and or learn a few new things about yourself #;)#ive been reading a lot of lady d fics and i think they kind of translated over to this fic sorry #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff smut #smut #avengers x fem!reader #avengers x reader #avengers smut #boo.fic

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prettyboylovemail · 3 years

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[Hana + Juzo] As Long As We’re Alive

FINALLY! I finished this fic that I’ve been working on all week!

I recently rewatched the Danganronpa 3 anime and wanted to figure out how my S/I would fit into the new killing game! Including interactions with my favorite character from the anime cause I can’t help myself 👀

(Also, for a bit of context: This takes place following my S/I from DR 1 surviving the Hope’s Peak Killing Game!)

As such, this will include anime spoilers!! Keep that in mind!

I worked super hard on this, so I hope you guys enjoy!!

Also a big big thanks to @duncanlovemail for helping me do some final edits and tweaks!! ❤️

—

In a split second, her life flashed before her eyes.

There were some good memories, sure, but mostly bad ones — memories of the last killing game she’d been forced to play overshadowed her happiest moments. And now, laying on the floor, staring wide-eyed at the tip of a katana, she could only remember the moments where she’d been this close to death.

But this time, she didn’t think she’d get to make it out alive.

There was a brief rustling sound from somewhere nearby, but Hana barely noticed it. It sounded as if someone was walking by and she silently begged that it’d be an ally. But as the footsteps grew fainter, she realized that she didn’t have any real allies left, and that she was only going to be left for dead.

The man behind the corner kept walking. He’d seen the fight, or rather, the one-sided attack, but he paid it no mind. With a scowl, he left Munakata to finish his work. Who cares how many insignificant people died? As long as he made it out alive, then Juzo would slaughter every other person here. If it meant that Kyousuke would be victorious, then he didn’t give a shit about the rest.

Then why?

Why did his chest tighten up at the sight? Why did he feel a twinge of guilt leaving her to die? It’s not like that girl was anyone special or important — just some rookie from another division — so why did he feel like a piece of shit as he turned his back on her?

“Dammit, Juzo, this isn’t like you,” the man muttered to himself through gritted teeth. “Get ahold of yourself and keep walkin’. It’s none of your business.” It wasn’t until the next thing he heard that he stopped in his tracks, listening.

“Please, I-I’m not on the side of despair! I d-don’t want to hurt anyone! Please, believe me!!”

The girl’s voice sounded desperate, like she was crying. Juzo swallowed thickly, trying to take another step, but feeling his entire body stiffen up. Her voice rang through his ears, echoing in the empty hallway, the sound piercing his chest like a knife.

“PLEASE, DON’T KILL ME!”

The man’s fists balled up, squeezing every ounce of strength that he could muster.

Shit!

“Kyousuke!” Juzo’s voice boomed through the hall as he spun on his heel. He felt the weight of his entire body shift and slam to a stop in front of the scene. Munakata paused and glanced up at him with no change in his cold expression.

“What is it, Sakakura?”

“Don’t worry about that one!” Juzo stepped forward, placing himself between Munataka and the helpless girl, frozen on the ground. “Your target is Makoto Naegi, isn’t it? Why waste your time on a brat like her?”

“Why are you interrupting?” Munakata’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Have you fallen to despair, Sakakura?”

“Don’t be stupid, of course not. But you know as well as I do that it’d be useless to kill this girl. She’s just some random kid, she doesn’t have anything to do with your plan.”

“She’s a survivor along with Naegi and the others. She’s in cahoots with them and as such, must be eliminated.” The katana glistened as Munakata turned it towards him. “And I will kill anyone who gets in my way.”

Juzo sharply inhaled. Was it really worth it, saving this kid at the threat of being turned on himself? He sent a glare behind him, seeing the frantic eyes of the shaking girl beneath him. Her eyes begged for him to save her, but pleading normally didn’t work on him. He turned back to Munakata and grit his teeth.

“What the hell’s gotten into you, man? Do you realize who you’re pointing that blade at?” Juzo raised his voice slightly. “I’m on your side, but right now, we need to focus on the real objective!”

“This is the real objective!”

There was only a moment to react. Time seemed to slow as the blade was swung, but not at him. The katana grazed past Juzo and towards the ground. He felt his heart stop as he reached out and—

“AGH!!” Juzo grunted out loud as the pain of steel cutting through flesh surged through his hand. Blood poured from the wound and it took all his might not to flinch back. He turned towards Hana, cowering barely a foot below the blade, and yelled. “GO!”

She took a sharp breath and squirmed away from the line of attack, barely able to keep her balance as her legs pushed her backwards. “W-What are you doing?” she managed to ask with a feeble voice.

Juzo gripped onto the katana with his opposite hand, keeping it in place as to not cut further into his hand. “Don’t ask stupid questions! Get the fuck out of here!! NOW!” His voice blared through the halls, shaking Hana out of her daze. She stood as quickly as she could and ran, hastily turning the corner.

“Sakakura! Why are you letting her escape?!” Munakata shouted. “You’re a traitor to the cause—”

“No! I’m not!! Just listen to me for once, god dammit!” Juzo pushed back against the sword, yanking his hand away from the blade and jumping out of range. “Naegi is still on the move right now! Once you get rid of him, you can exterminate the rest of these stupid brats, you hear me?” There was a pause. “I won’t get in your way again, but we’ve gotta track down that bastard Naegi first.”

Another pause as both men decided their next move. When Munakata backed down, Juzo did as well.

“You’re right.” Munakata sighed, lowering his sword and re-sheathing it.

Juzo let out a sigh as well. “Good. Now come on, let’s go search for the brat.”

“Alright…”

—

The two men walked down the empty hallways, searching, scanning every corner for an enemy. Neither of them said anything, and the atmosphere was only growing more tense with every passing minute.

“Kyousuke,” Juzo started, breaking the silence between them, “those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.” When he didn’t receive any response, he paused, before making an attempt to change the subject. “Hey, so—”

“What’s on your mind?” Munakata stopped

“Well, uh,” Juzo began, “Kimura’s been killed. Kizakura got poisoned, too. Oh, and Ando was stabbed by one of the survivor brats...” his voice trailed off. Munakata hadn’t reacted to a single thing he’d said and it was starting to throw him off. Did he care that their comrades were dying? Juzo glanced away. “I… just… thought you oughta know…”

“Tengan, as well.”

Juzo’s eyes widened, “No joke?”

Munakata’s voice was cold and unwavering. “I killed him myself.”

It took a moment to process what he’d said, but it was unmistakable. Kyousuke had murdered the chairman. Of course, Juzo was always on his side, but this… didn’t seem like him. And his best friend’s icy demeanor was really concerning him. He knew that Munakata was willing to do anything to achieve his goal, but this—

“Right, sure…” Juzo turned away, putting on a smile to hide his uncertainty as best he could. “Hey, that’s good! This is what we wanted, isn’t it? To purify the foundation.”

Munakata said nothing, just stared at his friend’s back as he continued.

“Heh. ‘Bout damn time. This baby’s in your hands now, chief. You’ve been promoted.” When he still received no response, Juzo continued further. “No one in their right mind is gonna contest it. The revolution’s over, and the spoils of war are all yours! I’ll help, of course. We’re gonna fix the Future Foundation! After that, the world.”

Finally, after a couple of moments, Munakata spoke. “The world, you say…” Juzo turned to face him. “Hey, Sakakura. We go back. You’ve been at my side for years in fact, since we were students.”

“Uh, yeah…?”

Munakata’s eyes closed. “We had our share of good times, the two of us, and Yukizome, of course. Eyes always on the future. Three friends intimately bound together by the same ideals.”

Juzo paused.

“Our mentors were supportive. Tengan always found the time to give me advice. I held firm that the world could change. That I could be the one to change it.” Munakata balled his fist, opening his eyes, but kept them focused down. “That conviction hasn’t left me. It’s as strong as ever…”

“Yeah, sure…” Juzo also looked away, “Hey, it’s strong in me too, ya know. Always has been.” He returned a determined gaze to his friend. “Backing you up’s been the whole point of my life. I take a lot of pride in throwin’ down for your ideals.”

“I know you do… And you’re right, my friend,” Munakata said with a heavy expression. “Without your unwavering support, I would’ve never made it this far.”

There were a couple moments of silence before Juzo spoke up again. “Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay?” His heart began to race. Why did he suddenly feel so nervous? Was it because he was finally going to say it? Finally going to tell Kyousuke how he’s always felt? Or… was it something else? Something more… disconcerting…? “To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

And in a flash — before he could even react — a sharp, searing pain surged through his stomach as Munakata’s fiery blade pierced through his midsection. He coughed, blood erupting from his throat and filling his mouth with the revolting taste of iron before spilling from his lips. The smell of burning flesh filled the air in an instant.

What…?

“K-Kyousuke…”

Blood quickly spread from the wound and in the next second, Juzo’s feet gave way beneath him and he collapsed onto the cold ground. He lay there in agony as the severity of the situation hit him. He choked and gasped for a breath, craning his neck, struggling to look up at the man who’d betrayed him. “W-What the hell, man? Why… would you… do this?”

Munakata’s voice was just as cold and uncaring as it was before, and it sent a shiver down Juzo’s spine as he lay on the floor beneath him.

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

And with that, Munakata turned… and left. His words hung in the air over Juzo, who lay face down, cursing himself as he felt his senses begin to weaken. He didn’t bother to watch his friend leave him there. He couldn’t bear the sight.

Why did it come to this?

Dammit!! Why?!

Then everything faded to black.

—

Hana staggered through the halls, dragging her injured ankle beneath her. It’s not that bad, she told herself, as long as she could keep moving. As long as she was still alive. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier, when Juzo had saved her life. It’d been almost two hours since then, and the next time limit was approaching soon. Tears welled up in her eyes as she stumbled.

Why was she so useless?

Even in the previous killing game, she couldn’t do anything to protect her friends. She couldn’t save those she cared about. She just had to stand by and watch as the ones precious to her died brutal deaths.

That included him…

Hana stopped and pressed her back to the wall behind her as the tears she’d been trying so hard to hold in fell down her cheeks. Why did she have to think about him right now? The girl felt her knees weaken, and she slid down to the floor with a heavy breath. Here she sat again, completely powerless to stop the deaths happening around her, unable to do anything besides cry. She despised her weakness.

It might be better if I just sit here… and wait for someone to come and kill me…

As if on cue, the sound of footsteps pulled her out of her thoughts. One? No, two people, she guessed. Were they enemies? Friends? Hana’s thoughts raced. Should she run? Stay put? What would she do if someone attacked her again? Was… it even worth fighting back?

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of familiar voices that she stopped.

“Kyousuke, those wounds don’t look so hot. We should find you a first aid kit.”

Juzo? And Munakata is with him?

Hana froze up in a cold sweat. Juzo had saved her once, but he was still loyal to Munakata. If they were still together now, then— Her hands began to shake. He wouldn’t spare her again.

The sound of footsteps stopped as the two men continued talking just around the corner. Hana wondered if she should run, but her body remained stagnant, completely paralyzed.

“Tengan, as well”

“No joke?”

“I killed him myself.”

Munakata had gotten to the chairman already? Then, there was nothing stopping Munakata from killing everyone else too. Had he already killed Makoto too? Hana kept listening, as silently as possible.

“Look, I— There’s something I gotta get off my chest, okay? To be totally honest with you—”

“Enough!”

The sound that came from around the corner was enough to make Hana’s blood run entirely cold. The sound of metal plunging through flesh. The sound of Juzo crying out in pain. A heavy thud.

No way…

There’s no way…

“Why… would you… do this?”

“You know why. You know exactly why.”

Hana’s hands clasped over her mouth to keep herself from gasping. Her entire body shook and she felt dizzy. She knew that they weren’t aware of her presence, but hearing that felt… directed. If Juzo hadn’t stepped in to save her, if he’d just ignored her and left her to be killed, this wouldn’t have happened.

Juzo is going to die because of me.

Just like before—

I can’t do anything.

This is my fault!

Footsteps faded as Munakata walked in the opposite direction. Once she was sure he was gone, she risked a glance around the corner and saw Juzo lying on the floor, unconscious and bleeding. Her legs moved on their own as she rushed to his side, frantically checking his wounds. Thankfully, the stomach wound had mostly cauterized due to Munakata’s blade, but he was still bleeding out slowly. Hana took off her jacket and tried tying it around his stomach in a hurry. “God, please,” she gasped. “Please don’t die.”

Once she’d finished securing her makeshift tourniquet as much as possible, Hana wrapped her arms around the man, attempting to pull him up just enough to move him, to no avail. She just wasn’t strong enough to lift him, and dragging him would only cause more damage. “Damn it…” the girl cursed, frantically searching the area. She didn’t want to leave him here, but there was no way she was going to be able to carry him to safety by herself. She had to get help or—

“I’m not going to let you die, I promise.”

Hana stood and ran down the hall, looking for anyone who would be willing to help. Maybe if she found Makoto. Or Koda— Izayoi should be with her, right? Juzo said that Ruruka had been killed, she could only guess that Koda’s the one who’d done it. If she found the two of them, they could help—

“Please. Please. Anybody.”

—

Hana’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a groggy dizziness overtaking her as her vision attempted to clear, and she scanned the area around her, disoriented from just having woken up. She glanced down at the bangle donning her wrist, still displaying the forbidden action she’d been cursed with, and let out a deep sigh. She’d made it through another time limit alive.

Thank God…

She filed through her memories, trying to remember everything before she’d dozed off. She’d found Juzo laying on the floor, bleeding, after his falling out with Munakata; that part was clear. But after that— Hana frowned— she couldn’t really remember much. She postulated that the time limit had stopped her from finding help, and she figured that if Juzo were still alive, that she wouldn’t know where to look for him. She could only hope that he’d survived.

The girl staggered to her feet, slightly swaying from a lack of balance, and stretched her arms into the air. “Alright,” she muttered to herself, “what to do now?”

For a moment, she considered looking for an ally, someone who’d be willing to team up with her, but the thought was fleeting. With her forbidden action being as fragile and deadly as it was, Hana figured that it’d be best to stay alone for now, what with Munakata on the hunt. She counted the number of known victims in her head, trying to figure out who was left.

Makoto, Kyoko, Hina, Koda, Izayoi, Munakata, Ryota, and, maybe, Juzo.

Including herself, only nine people remained alive out of the starting seventeen. She grit her teeth. Too many people had died already.

History was repeating itself.

Suddenly, there was a screeching sound, signalling the overhead speakers turning on. Hana glanced up, trying to find where the noise was coming from, before a voice came through.

“Makoto Naegi.”

Munakata—!

“If you’re awake, I assume you’ve figured out what Kirigiri’s forbidden action was.”

She took a sharp breath and her body went rigid. Kyoko…? Her forbidden action? Hana’s eyes widened with shock.

Is Kyoko dead?!

The voice on the speakers continued, but Hana was only half listening as she repelled the urge to throw up. The pit in her stomach only continued to grow as she heard Munakata call Makoto to confront him alone. He was planning to kill Makoto, she’d already known that; but now, with Kyoko dead, he would be falling right into Munakata’s trap, spurred on by emotion and his relentlessness to push forward. That’s just always how he is — how he was back then too — and Munakata would be anticipating that.

Hana rushed from the room she’d taken shelter in, scanning the halls for anyone else. If Munakata was able to use the loudspeakers, then he should be in the broadcasting room, so if she just avoided there, then she would be fine and she could get help to back up Makoto. It wasn’t much, but she had to try.

The walls around her were broken and beaten to hell, with blood splattered against the dark concrete and rubble scattered across the floor at every turn. The sight made her nauseous, but she had to keep moving. No matter what, she had to push forward too.

As she turned a corner, Hana bumped into something solid and lost her balance. Her ankle twinged with discomfort and she let out a pained groan as she fell backwards. “Agh… shit.” Noticing movement in her peripheral, her eyes darted up to see what, or rather who, she’d crashed into, and she was hit with a wave of relief.

“Damn it. Can’t get anywhere without runnin’ into one of you brats, huh.”

“Juzo!” Hana exclaimed, half from the reassurance to see him alive, and half out of worry that he was still loyal to Munakata. Although, she considered, after what happened between them, she couldn’t say for sure that he was still on Munakata’s side. “How are your injuries?” As the girl stood, her eyes drifted to his midsection; the tourniquet she’d wrapped around him was gone, but his wound wasn’t actively bleeding anymore. Juzo must’ve noticed the concerned look on her face, as he only scoffed in return.

“I’m fine. What’d’you care anyway?”

She made a dejected noise of acknowledgement and glanced away. “Sorry, is that a bad thing?” When he didn’t reply, Hana let out a soft exhale. “I saw what happened… between you and Munakata. I know it’s not really my place to intervene, but I couldn’t just… leave you there, ya know?”

Juzo sighed, a low growl escaping his throat, “So you saw all that.” He looked down at the ground, an expression on his face that was somewhere between anger and sadness. He clearly felt betrayed. Understandable, all things considered. “Fuck,” he cursed as he sat on a nearby slab of rubble, “this whole thing is such bullshit! How did it get this far?”

Hana stayed silent, watching the man in front of her. He was normally so aggressive and strong, but seeing his posture fall and his confidence crumble, it filled her heart with a nostalgic sadness. The same feeling that she had before, before that sickening execution, seeing someone so strong that she had nothing but admiration for collapse into weakness and despair. That feeling of helplessness as she couldn’t do anything but watch from the sidelines. It hurt to see the same thing happening yet again.

“I’m sorry…” Hana spoke gently as she sat beside him. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and keeping her gaze fixated on the floor. “...for what happened. If you hadn’t had to save me, he wouldn’t have—”

“Shut up.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t have to save you. Hell, I thought that I should’ve let you die back there.” Juzo spat out his words with no hesitation. “Even I wondered why I bothered to step in.” Hana didn’t say anything, and only kept her eyes on the ground. “But what’s done is done. And even if I didn’t come to save your sorry ass, Kyousuke already had it in his head to betray me. Leaving you there wouldn’t have prevented anything.”

“You don’t know that for sure,” Hana mumbled. “You two were so close. Why would he have tried to kill you if he didn’t think you were on Makoto’s side?”

There was a pause.

“That’s the question, ain’t it…” Juzo sighed. “I gave everything to show him I wouldn’t hesitate to kill for his ideals. I really would’ve killed that bastard Naegi with my bare hands to prove that.” He slumped over, raising his wrist to clearly see the band hanging from it, “If it wasn’t for this damn thing, I could’ve done it by now.”

“But would killing Makoto really have put a stop to all this?” the girl questioned, sending a glance over her shoulder.

“Dunno. Don’t really care either, at this point.”

Another pause, this one longer than the last.

“Then, let’s end this game.”

“Huh?” Juzo scowled at the girl. “What do you mean by that?”

Hana’s eyes glinted with determination, “The attacker is still out there, right? That’s why there’s a new victim after every time limit. So if we can find and stop the attacker before the next time limit happens, then the game should end!”

“Forget it. If you wanna get yourself killed, then go right ahead, but I’m done.” The man’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t give a shit what happens to the rest of you.”

“But you want this game to end too, don’t you? Or would you rather just stay locked up in here forever?”

“Tch. Even if you think you could find the attacker, how would you be able to stop them? They only show themselves when everybody’s knocked out, so how do you plan to fight them?” He gestured down to Hana’s leg. “And with your busted up foot, I doubt you’d be able to handle yourself if push came to shove.”

That seemed to make the girl back down, as her shoulders slumped in realization. “Well. I don’t know yet. But I still want to try, ya know?” Her eyebrows knitted together. “If I don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before everyone is killed off one by one. I don’t want to let that happen again.”

Juzo groaned in frustration, “Right, I get it. You’re trying to play hero just like Naegi, aren’t ya. Cause of that other killing game, right?” Hana kept quiet. “Jeez, you brats are all the same, thinkin’ you can change things by stickin’ your necks out. So damn annoying.”

He gave her another harsh glare. “So what if I entertain your little suicide mission, huh? How do I know you aren’t just pullin’ a fast one on me, trying to get me to lower my guard?”

“What?”

“Say, hypothetically, that you’re actually the attacker. What makes you think that I can just blindly trust anything you have to say?”

Hana paused and stared at his face before sighing and closing her eyes. She moved her wrist into view, showing off her bracelet, and the message that circled around it in big, red letters.

SUSTAINING AN INJURY THAT DRAWS BLOOD

“I haven’t shown anybody this,” Hana said quietly. “I’ve been too worried that someone would use it against me, so I’ve been avoiding everyone else.” Her voice was soft, yet full of resolve. “Earlier… even if I could’ve somehow escaped from Munakata alive on my own, one tiny cut from his blade would’ve been enough to do me in. If you hadn’t come when you did, I would’ve absolutely died... one way or another. All it would take is the smallest drop of blood, and I would be dead.”

“So, what?”

“So that means that I’m willing to put my trust in you. Maybe that’s a dumb decision, but I don’t want to doubt people anymore! And if I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

“Yeah yeah, I heard you the first time. But unless we can get these stupid bracelets off, we can’t do shit. You’ve gotta accept that.” Juzo paused. This girl, as annoying as she could be, was persistent to say the least — more stubborn than he would’ve given her credit for. It reminded him of before, back when Chisa was still alive. She was persistent and determined, just like that. She wasn’t the strongest person, far from it. She was emotional and irritatingly cheerful sometimes, and the look that Hana had on her face right now looked exactly like her.

Juzo glared at the girl for a moment, studying her expression for any hint of ulterior motive. It wasn’t like he thought she had it in her to play mind games, but with everything that's happened up to now, he couldn’t underestimate anyone. Not again.

“Tell me something. I’ve been wondering for a while. ”

“Hm?”

“Why do you keep following me around, anyways? You’re not gonna confess your love or something, are you?”

Hana was clearly caught off guard by the question, but found herself giggling in reply. She brought up her hands to dismiss the implication. “No, no way. Believe me, I don’t have any interest in you like that.” She gave him a smug look. “Plus, I don’t really think I’m your type—”

“Get on with it.”

The girl laughed, “Got it, sorry.” A moment passed and she gazed off somewhere down the hall, a forlorn look gracing her features. “Well, it’s just that…”

“...?”

“...You remind me of someone. That’s all.”

Juzo gave her a questioning look, but she paid it no mind. “So that’s it, huh.” He’d be lying if he said the sentiment wasn’t at least a little bit mutual, but he’d rather die before saying that out loud. “Well, I couldn’t give a damn about that.”

“I know.” With a soft chuckle, Hana kept her eyes down. “It’s kinda silly, isn’t it? To try and keep someone’s memory alive by projecting them onto someone else… it’s stupid to think that’ll help anything. But even so… it’s given me a little bit of courage.” Hana faced Juzo with a bright, albeit somewhat forced, smile. “So it can’t be all bad, right?”

“Tch…” The man clicked his tongue in annoyance. “If you say so.”

The sound of a distant rumbling caught both of their attention and they shot to attention. Juzo jumped to his feet, while Hana’s entire body straightened up.

“That has to be Munakata! He should be fighting Makoto right now,” Hana exclaimed. “We have to help!”

“I told you to forget it! You’re already hurt. You shouldn’t even be walking around so much, much less trying to fight,” Juzo snapped back at her.

“But if I don’t, then Makoto’s going to die!”

“So be it! If he decided to confront Munakata, that’s his own damn business! This isn’t your fight to meddle in!”

“I’m not going to sit back and let another one of my friends get killed!” Hana shouted, standing on her wobbly legs. “If you’re going to still side with Munakata after all of this, then fine, but I’m going to try to help my friends!” She only made it a few steps before a hand gripped her wrist and forcibly yanked her backwards.

“Don’t be stupid! Just stay here and don’t get in the way, otherwise you’ll end up dying too, you hear me?!” Juzo yelled, squeezing the girl’s arm tight so she couldn’t break free. “If you’re so fucking concerned, then I’ll handle it.”

“What are you talking about?” Hana asked, wincing at the pain in her wrist.

“You said it yourself! The tiniest cut would be enough to kill you, wouldn’t it? So just find somewhere to hide and stay put.” He released her arm and the girl pulled back to rub the spot he’d grabbed. At this point, Juzo didn’t even know what he planned on doing, but all he knew was that this stupid girl was going to get herself killed if she tried to fight Munakata again. Regardless of how he personally felt about the matter, he knew that her determination would be useless in this situation. “You’ve already done enough, so just stay outta sight and don’t die, got it?!”

Hana stepped back, a confused look on her face, but ultimately didn’t make any more attempts to oppose him. She exhaled softly and nodded.

“Okay.”

And without a second thought, Juzo ran off into the darkness.

—

Shit… Why’d I let myself get roped into this…?

Juzo breathed heavily, grasping at his sleeve, soaked in blood, as he staggered through the dark halls. He figured it was almost time for the next time limit, although he couldn’t be sure of that anymore. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the throbbing pain surged through his left arm, and he risked a glance down to where the bangle had once been. With his hand now gone, he was free from risk of being poisoned, but the cost of passing out from the pain wasn’t far behind him.

“D-Damn...it…” he muttered through strained breaths, “This is… all ‘cause of… that girl…”

He thought back to their earlier conversation. He had no initial plans to take what she’d said to heart, not like this, but seems that today was full of surprises, wasn’t it? All that shit he’d said before was just a means of shutting her up at the time, but after pondering it for a while, he realized what he had to do.

He’d set off to find Munakata and Naegi, to stop them from fighting, by however he deemed necessary. Whether that be by stopping Kyousuke again, or by killing the brat that started all of this, he would end this damn game. It wasn’t until the beeping of his wristband caught his attention, to signal that the time limit was fast approaching, that he remembered Hana’s plan. As reckless as it was, he knew that if one of them were to be able to pull it off, it would be him. That’s when the solution to get rid of the bracelet came to mind, and if it took a drastic measure, then that’s what he’d do. So he endured through the pain, biting the fabric of his jacket, grinding it between his teeth as he did what needed to be done.

But now, as he wandered the empty halls, with only the ominous glow of red from the monitors to guide his path, he wondered if he’d made the right decision. He had barely any strength left, why waste it on trying to fight off the attacker when he should be preserving it just to stay standing? Bullshit...

That’s when he heard it, the sound of screaming echoing in the darkness. Was somebody getting attacked? It almost sounded like—

Juzo took off in a sprint, dashing through the hallways. Anger surged through his body like electricity, but he skidded to a sudden stop at the sight before him.

Makoto Naegi, kneeled on the floor, a knife poised to his throat.

In a split second, Juzo was at top speed again, his strides slamming into the ground with every step.

I don’t think so, you little bastard!

One swing was all it took to knock the knife from the boy’s hands. He paused in confusion, looking around for a second before Juzo gripped him by the arm and raised him to eye-level, slamming his elbow to Naegi’s throat. He writhed and flailed under the pressure of being choked, but Juzo didn’t waver.

“You’re the man who defeated Junko Enoshima. If you think I’m going to let you kill yourself, then you’re dumber than you look!” he growled, pressing his arm further against the boy’s neck. “You hear me, you little punk?! Not now. Not ever!”

After a few more seconds of struggling, Juzo released Naegi, letting him fall to the floor in a heap as the boy coughed and gasped for air. He looked up at the man in confused distress. “H-How are you even—?!”

Juzo picked the knife from the floor, gripping the handle. “You wanna die so bad, then allow me.” He raised the blade, fully intending to strike and end this right then, but stopped himself mid-swing when Naegi recoiled. He looked pathetic, like a small animal cowering in fear of its predator. Juzo scoffed and dropped the knife, his feet collapsing beneath him as his strength started to waver. “Dammit…”

“How are you still awake?” Makoto asked, staring at Juzo intently. That’s when the boy noticed the crimson-soaked sleeve and gasped, “Y-You cut off your arm?” He looked at the man with concerned eyes. “Well, that’s one way, I guess.”

“Figured I could make the scene before it happened…” Juzo muttered, his energy depleting quickly, “I could meet whoever’s behind this god-forsaken game face-to-face. Take out the attacker and be done with it.”

Naegi’s eyes widened when he realized Juzo’s intention, and paused. “There is no attacker. There never was.”

“...Huh?”

“It was suicide. The victims— They were all brainwashed into killing themselves by what they saw on the monitors.” Juzo followed Naegi’s gaze up to the glowing monitor. “When the time limit was up, we were all knocked unconscious. But whoever was closest to a monitor got woken up by a special signal from their bangles. Awake and alone, they were subjected to a video. After that…” his voice trailed off, leaving the implication as it stands.

Juzo slumped over, his expression darkening. “Who did this? What sicko piece of shit thinks this is entertaining?”

“That, I don’t know. At least not yet.” Naegi raised a hand to his chin in thought. “But they wouldn’t even need to be here for it to work.”

“What are you tellin’ me? They could’ve set this up? Controlled it remotely?”

“Probably.” Naegi straightened up, sending a determined smile over in the man’s direction. “On the bright side, at least we don’t have to suspect each other anymore.”

Juzo could only laugh at what he was hearing. Rage boiled through his veins, and it took everything in him to keep himself in check. “So what are we supposed to do now? It’s all a shell game. We’ve been manipulated from some unknown other place. Killing each other like a bunch of animals.

“Yukizome. Gozu. Kimura. Some video brainwashed them into taking their own lives? All the horrible things we’ve done to smoke out the killer and it’s been us?!” Juzo gripped the handle of the knife in his fist once again, shaking with anger. He slammed the blade against the concrete, breaking it in half. “Son of a bitch!”

There was a long pause as Juzo took a breath and collected himself. Everything he’d done — everything he’d tried to prove — it was all for nothing. This entire damn game has been nothing more than a way for some bastard in a far-off place to enjoy a good show while they all chased their tails like a pack of rabid dogs. Juzo stood again, turning and taking a few steps down the hall.

“What are you doing?”

Juzo gritted his teeth. These fucking brats and their million questions. What did it matter what he did now? Why was everyone so concerned about him and whatever he was doing?! “I have somewhere to be,” he forced out. Really, he didn’t know where he was going to go, or what he was going to do. Nothing mattered anymore.

“Let’s end this game.”

He paused, stopped dead in his tracks. What the hell? Did all these survivor kids have the same brain, or was it just coincidence that this brat said the exact same useless shit that she did? Whatever, he didn’t care. He didn’t have to listen.

But of course, that didn’t stop the words from coming. “If we destroy all the monitors, that should do it,” Makoto urged.

“Heh.” Juzo sent a glance over his shoulder. “You got any idea how many of those things there are?”

“B-But—”

“Don’t let me stop you. Just don’t expect me to help either.” With those words, Juzo continued walking. That’s right. It didn’t concern him. He didn’t give a shit what the others did anymore. But still, that uncomfortable twinge of guilt in his chest tugged at him. The same one he felt when he saved that girl’s life. Juzo tried to force the feeling down, but it stayed, regardless, and his feet stopped yet again. He remained quiet for another second before breaking the silence. “True story… I wanted you to die. I’d have gladly done it myself.

“See, I’m not a man who can just forgive and forget. I hated you. No, from the moment you walked out of Hope’s Peak High School alive, I loathed you. Despised you,” Juzo growled. “So, I’m not gonna lie, when Munakata told you to kill yourself, I thought, ‘it’s about damn time’.”

“But why?” came the feeble voice of the kid he hated so much, “I don’t…”

“Because…” Juzo glared back at him. “You defeated Junko Enoshima.”

When he saw the confused look on Naegi’s face, he continued. “Yeah, that’s right. Bitch played me like a fiddle. I knew she was up to something, and I kept my mouth shut.” The anger he’d been feeling surfaced even faster as he balled his fist. “I had one job and I botched it. So this is the result…” Juzo raised his mutilated arm and gave the boy a pained smirk. “It’s all on me. I couldn’t stop everyone dying... I couldn’t kill you for Munakata...

“And in the end...” Juzo’s eyes narrowed, his eyes stinging and his chest throbbing, “he threw me away. Like an old pair of boots.”

“He was wrong! It’s the game!” Naegi called after him. “The man was fooled into thinking you’d gone over to the enemy!”

Juzo kept walking, gripping his injured arm as he stepped into the darkness.

“Tch… No kidding…”

And this time, he didn’t turn back.

—

“Dammit…”

He didn’t think anything mattered anymore. He knew that whatever he did at this point would ultimately be useless. But… even so…

“If I don’t do anything, more people will just keep dying. If that means taking a few risks, then so be it.”

He kept walking. Kept moving. Through the pain and the dizziness, he kept pushing forward. Was this because of that that girl said? Or because of the brat? Or were these his own thoughts? Juzo didn’t know anymore. With every blood-stained step, his breathing staggered. Every motion felt like a hundred bricks weighed on his shoulders. But he had to keep moving. As long as he was alive, then he could fight.

Juzo pushed on, making his way towards the breaker room. His movements were slow and heavy, but determined to make it there. As he stepped through the Monokuma-printed door leading into the hidden room, he scoffed at himself, at the effort he was making. “Well, damn. Guess I’m a Despair now…” he let out a dry laugh that came out as more of a cough. “Wish I could find the humor in—”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before his foot gave way beneath him, causing him to stumble forward and crash into the wall. A cry of pain erupted from the man’s throat as he collapsed and slid down the wall, leaving a bloody trail behind him. And as Juzo lay crumpled on the ground, bleeding out from the wounds he’d sustained, he smiled. “This is what I get for letting Enoshima off the hook…” Everything in him wanted to give up, wanted to close his eyes and fall into the depths of darkness right then.

But he couldn’t die yet. Not until he’d finished what he said he’d do.

Not until this fucking game came to a bitter end.

With the last quarter of strength he could muster, he pushed himself onto his knees, draping his body against the breaker room door in order to force it open. He gazed down at the long line of switches. “Always been too much of a softie,” the man grinned to himself.

Juzo reached up, struggling to move through the crippling agony, and grabbed the first switch.

“...‘Least that’s what they’ll say about me.”

—

Hana sat alone with her knees pressed to her chest. It’d been too long, and the silence was starting to drive her crazy. What was everyone else doing right now? Was anyone else even alive? The thoughts that plagued her mind had continued to worry her, but she forced them down.

Everything’s fine. We’re going to make it out of here. All of us.

Then suddenly, everything went black. Hana jumped, startled by the sudden change, but relaxed slightly when the emergency lights came on. The room she’d hidden in was then illuminated a deep red, and the girl stood up to investigate. “Does this mean…?”

She peeked out into the hallway, not seeing anyone nearby. The girl stepped out and her foot swelled up in pain at the sudden movement, but she didn’t stop. Hana staggered along the wall, looking for anyone else to confirm what she’d thought. However, she didn’t have to wonder for much longer. With one final beep, the wristband that’d acted as her shackle for the entirety of the game snapped and fell to the ground. Hana touched her wrist, finally freed from the burden of death, and she let out an exasperated breath.

Is the game finally over?

It only took a couple minutes of walking to notice a few drops of blood on the ground. Her eyes followed the trail, seeing the drops become larger and more frequent as they moved down the hall. The dots began to connect in her head, but she shook them away, not wanting to assume the worst. She followed where they led and was brought to a room she hadn’t been to before.

“A library?” she questioned aloud, seeing multiple bookshelves lining the walls, “Or maybe a study?” Her inquiries were cut short, however, at the sight of a body coming into view from behind the couch. Hana let out a gasp at the startling sight. Ruruka lay on the ground, a singular gash across her neck, a puddle of blood recently drained from the wound. Her eyes were wide; her expression twisted in shock and pain. She must’ve been caught off guard, Hana assumed. A closer look revealed something glinting from inside the corpse’s mouth, what looked like a piece of blue candy on her tongue.

They did say she’d been stabbed, but did Koda really do this? She was never the type to murder someone in cold blood, even if it was someone she hated.

As brutal as the scene was, Hana gulped heavily and attempted to move past it as best as she could. Ruruka probably deserved it in all honesty, as horrible as that sounded, but that didn’t make seeing her dead body any easier to handle. Once she met up with Koda and Izayoi later, she could ask them about it, but she shook her head to rid herself of the image. Ending the game was the top priority. So she continued deeper into the room.

The trail of blood, now in large puddles, led into another area, a space behind one of the bookshelves that’d been pried open, it looked like. Hana glanced inside to find a hidden room, one a lot darker than the previous one. She stepped inside, following the trail further until she entered a final door. And when she peered inside, she froze.

That’s…!

Slumped against the back of the room, one hand on the final switch, lay the familiar figure of Juzo. She rushed to his side to check for any signs of life. Considering the amount of blood he’d lost on the way here, it was unlikely that he was still alive, but—!

“Oh God…” Hana stared into his face, eyes closed and a peaceful smile gracing his lips.

She checked his mouth for breathing. Nothing.

“No, no, damn it.”

Checked his neck for a pulse. Nothing still.

“God, please…”

She pressed her ear to his chest to listen for a heartbeat, every movement more frantic and worried than the last. Tears stung her eyes.

I can’t be too late!

But then—

Bu-bump.

A heartbeat. Faint, but still barely there.

Bu-bump.

Another one, even fainter than the last.

He’s still alive—!

Hana stood, her body shaking and her breathing ragged, and dashed from the room as quickly as her legs could move. “I promised that I wouldn’t let you die, dammit! I can’t fail now!”

She ran and ran and ran, turning every corner at top speed, searching for anyone who could help. Anybody. That’s when she heard the faint sound of voices at the end of the hallway. She didn’t know who, but she didn’t care. “Help!! Anyone, please help!!” she shouted into the darkness, praying that someone would hear her and come to her aid.

“Fujiwara?” a voice echoed back.

As she ran farther down the hall, multiple people came into view, and tears of relief spilled from her eyes. The figures of her friends, as well as a platoon of soldiers that’d presumably been ordered to search for survivors, relieved the immense weight on her shoulders. “Makoto! Byakuya!”

Finally, finally. They were saved.

“There you are!” Makoto exclaimed. “We hadn’t heard from you all day, we thought you were dead!”

“Don’t worry about me right now! Juzo needs help!” Hana shouted with as much conviction as she could muster. “He’s in the breaker room! He doesn’t have much time left, but he’s still alive!” She turned to Byakuya and his squad of reinforcements, in tears. “Please, we have to save him!”

Byakuya paused for a moment, taking in the information, before barking an order to his crew. “Three of you, follow Fujiwara to the breaker room and ensure Sakakura’s safety! The rest of you will follow Munakata and Naegi to stop Mitarai! Now! Go!”

“Yes, sir!”

—

The sun peered through the blinds into the hospital room, shining more light on the already blindingly white room. Juzo stirred a bit, then begrudgingly opened his eyes with a strain. He attempted to sit up, but the overwhelming pain caused him to fall backwards onto the bed.

“I wouldn’t attempt to move for a while. You won’t be fully healed for quite some time.”

“E...Eh?” Juzo struggled to see who was speaking to him, and squinted to see blonde hair and the shine of glasses being pushed up the bridge of the man’s nose. “Y-You’re… that rich kid… from the Hope’s Peak survivors…” he forced.

“Byakuya Togami, Future Foundation: 14th Division,” he scoffed, crossing his arms hastily over his chest. “I’d be offended that you don’t remember who I am, but I’ll give you a pass due to your injuries.”

“What are...you doing here? Why am I… still alive?”

Byakuya sighed, “Well, to answer the first question, it’s been about 4 hours since the killing game ended. I’m only passing through on official business to check in on the status of the remaining survivors. Naegi and the other members are also here on business as well, albeit in separate rooms.”

“Tch…”

“And as for the latter,” Byakuya continued, sending a glance over his shoulder, “this one practically begged me to save your life.”

Juzo followed the blonde’s eyes to see a sleeping girl sitting hunched over in a chair in the corner of the room. The man clicked his tongue and pressed his head back into the pillow.

“She’s the one who found you, barely breathing, and ran all the way to come find someone and led my squad back to your location. Once my team brought you into custody, we rushed you to the medical tent. It’s a miracle that you survived, honestly.” Byakuya sent a sharp glare in Juzo’s direction. “The fact that you’re still alive is extremely lucky. I’d be sure to give her your thanks when given the opportunity.”

“Yeah, yeah. I hear ya,” Juzo sighed, but ultimately didn’t say anything else.

“Well, now that you’re awake and are showing no signs of falling into comatose.” Byakuya stood, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It seems my work here is finished.” The man turned towards the door, taking a couple strides before stopping. “We’ll have to hold another meeting again soon to discuss the plans of the Future Foundation, but I would rest while you can. We’ll take care of everything for now.” And with that, Byakuya left.

Juzo’d only been half listening, honestly, but he got the general gist. Still, he closed his eyes, processing everything he’d heard. The killing game was over, and he’d actually survived it. He had fully expected to die at the time, and had accepted that fact, but he made it out alive, thanks to her. He mentally laughed at himself. It was always thanks to her, wasn’t it? The only reason he was even able to end the game in the first place was because of her saving his life after being stabbed. And it was because of what she said that he kept fighting to the end.

I’m so damn pathetic, aren’t I? When did I get this soft…?

Then he drifted back to sleep.

—

Time will always pass. No matter the hardships, the tears, and the pain, life will always go on. Maybe the memories wouldn’t fade right away, not for days or weeks, even months or years, but with every passing day comes a new opportunity to make the best of your situation.

Bad memories may linger, but life moves forward.

Hana stepped into the sun, a gentle breeze blowing wisps of her hair into her face. It’d been a week since then, and things have been getting back to normal as quickly as possible. The Future Foundation was still working on rebuilding their headquarters, as well as it’s credibility with the public, and they were still trying to figure out what to do with its remaining members. But despite all of that, the girl smiled at the bright blue sky above her.

They’d made it. Through everything, they’d made it.

“You seem awfully cheery for someone still hobbling around on one leg,” came a man’s voice from behind her. She recognized it instantly.

“What are you doing moving around out here, Juzo?” Hana turned where the voice was coming from. “You aren’t fully healed yet, ya know.”

Juzo scoffed, “I got tired of layin’ around in that stuffy room every day. Can only take so much boredom before I end up wanting to off myself.”

The girl put her hands on her hips and sighed, but made no objection. “Geez. If you keep pushing yourself, you’re only gonna have to stay longer.” She gave him a smirk. “Well, whatever. Just don’t get caught by the hospital staff.”

“Doesn’t matter to me. It’s not like I’m leaving the hospital grounds. Just gettin’ some air is all.”

“I know, but still.” She gestured for him to sit on a nearby bench and he reluctantly obliged, to which she joined him as well. After a couple moments of silence, gazing off into the distance, Hana spoke quietly. “Things have gotten pretty crazy lately, huh…” she muttered, “never expected it to end up like this…”

Juzo stared at the girl as she spoke before closing his eyes and leaning back into the bench. “I get what you mean. For one thing, I figured I’d be dead by now.” When Hana didn't reply, he changed the subject. “Did you guys ever figure out what happened to Munakata? Or where he is?”

She shook her head. “No, we didn’t,” the girl answered, “he wandered off somewhere and told us not to follow him, from what I heard. Mentioned something about bearing his own cross. I don’t think he’ll be coming back to the Future Foundation anytime soon.”

“Damn it,” Juzo huffed under his breath. “He’s always been like that. Thinking that he has to take on all of the burdens alone. He’s such an idiot.”

“I don’t think it’s stupidity.”

“What’re you gettin’ at?”

“I think he’s concerned about you and the others in his own way. ‘Course, I can’t say for sure, since I didn't really know him that well. But it seems to me like he recognizes that what he did was wrong and wants to put some separation between himself and the organization to allow for healing.

“For both the Future Foundation and also for himself,” Hana spoke gently, “I think he needs this time alone to reflect. We shouldn’t urge him to come back if he isn’t ready to.”

“Don’t get all preachy on me,” Juzo retorted. “I know all that already.”

The girl airily laughed a little, “Sorry…”

“So,” Hana leaned back, pulling one knee up to her chest, “what are you gonna do now? After you’re discharged, I mean.”

“Hell if I know…” the man sighed. “‘Dunno what I’m supposed to do now.”

The girl hummed in response. “Well… what do you want to do? Plan on looking for Munakata?”

“No. If he decided that he’d rather be alone, then I have no reason to chase after him anymore…” Juzo’s eyes fell to the ground. Before Hana could respond, he continued, “What about you? What are you gonna do now that the Future Foundation’s in shambles?”

“Hm, I don’t know…” She placed her chin against her knee, thinking deeply, “I think I just want to go home… wherever that is now…”

“Yeah,” the man let out a small breath, letting his gaze drift into the distance, “same…” After a few minutes, Juzo spoke up again, breaking the silence. “Hey.”

“Hm?”

He paused, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to mentally piece together the right words, “Why…’d you bother savin’ me back there? I get the first time was to pay me back for helpin you out against Munakata, but—”

“Because… I promised I wouldn’t let you die.”

“Huh?”

Hana brushed a few strands behind her ear and looked down, “I made that promise to myself and I… couldn’t break it, no matter what.”

“What’s up with that?” Juzo snapped back, “You got some kinda hero complex?”

She gave him an embarrassed smile and an empty chuckle, “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s just…” she hesitated for a second, “someone I knew was… very stubborn about keeping any promise he made. And I guess that sorta just… rubbed off on me.”

“I see how it is,” the man replied, “one of the kids from the Hope’s Peak Killing Game, right?”

A light blush appeared on Hana’s cheeks as she pressed her lips together and fidgeted her thumbs in her lap. “W-Well…”

“Lemme guess, you had a crush on the guy. Then he died, so now you feel like you’ve gotta keep up his ideals in his place,” Juzo said frankly, not wavering for a second. “Sound about right?”

The small squeak that the girl made, along with her face turning a deeper shade of red by the moment, promptly answered his question. “T-That obvious, huh?”

“Yeah, kinda,” Juzo sneered. “But whatever, it’s not like I care to pry into some brat’s love life.”

Hana glanced away, leaning her cheek against her knee once again, “I know I mentioned it before, but you kinda reminded me of him, ya know. I think that’s another reason why I told myself that I had to save you, no matter what happened.”

“Uh-huh?” Juzo paused, giving her a questioning look. “You’re still not gonna say you like me or some sappy shit like that, are you?”

“I already told you it’s not like that!” the girl huffed.

“Just checkin’.”

“It’s more like… I dunno,” the girl thought for a moment, “you’re both so strong and aggressive and stubborn, but you’ve both got a soft side too. You care about your friends and are willing to do anything to protect those who are close to you. That’s something I really admire, so…”

“Tch, you don’t need to say anything else. I understand.” Juzo also looked away, an embarrassed expression on his face. “I’m not that big a softie.”

“I know, I know. But still…”

The two sat in silence for a while longer, watching a couple birds fly from their perch on a telephone wire. The wind blew softly. Even with all of the chaos happening around them, everything still seemed so peaceful. They still had a lot of work to do; the war against despair wasn’t completely over yet, but for now…

Things were okay.

With a loud sigh, Hana stood. “Welp! Nothing’s gonna get done if we keep sitting around here.”

“Take it easy. Didja forget you’re still bandaged up too?” Juzo scolded. “You don’t need to push yourself either. Take your own advice for once, will ya?”

Despite Juzo’s harsh tone, Hana giggled. “Don’t worry, I’m alright. I’m mostly healed now. You’re the one in a lot worse condition, but yet here you are still walking around.”

“I’m a lot more sturdy than you are. I can take it.”

“Mhm, sure. You don’t need to act all tough.”

“Shut it.”

“Got it, sorry,” she said with a dismissive laugh. “But, I should really be getting back to the others. Gotta check in on some official Future Foundation business before I go home.” The girl gave a bright grin before turning her back to him.

Juzo paused before pushing himself up as well, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Right. Duty calls, I guess.” He watched her back for a moment. “Hey, kid.”

“What is it?”

“If… you ever need anything. Just gimme a call, alright?”

Hana smiled softly and nodded.

“Okay!”

- END -

#this is so long i'm so sorry #but ahhhh it's done!!!#i'm actually really proud of myself for finishing this #so i'd really appreciate anyone who actually reads the whole thing fdjkgkjdff #anyways tho!!#i had so much fun with this #i hope yall enjoy!!#self insert // danganronpa #juzo sakakura #my writing #also also this is supposed to be platonic #i'm hoping it'll stay that way dsjknfdn

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bipingyans-blog · 3 years

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Is Yoga the perfect form of exercise and relaxation?

Yoga is a group of physical, mental, and spiritual practices or disciplines that originated in ancient India. Because of its various health benefits like improving body strength and flexibility, reducing stress and anxiety, etc most people across the world are undergoing Offline or Online Yoga Teacher Training.

Let's make a list of what our ideal type of exercise would do. Firstly it would be simple enough that anyone could do it, but have enough variations and different methods that it would maintain the interest of someone who had been practicing it for years. It would need to be easy to learn so that people could pick up the basics quickly and start seeing the benefits as soon as possible. To be a perfect form of exercise it would need to be capable of keeping our body in good shape all by itself. It would help with weight loss, circulation, and increasing the strength of the muscles. It would stimulate the lymphatic system as well as the blood flow and help the body dispose of waste products, improving the overall immune response system. It would also have benefits that went beyond health - the sharpening of the mind and an increased sense of well-being and contentment. Ideally, it would be an exercise form that required no expensive equipment and that could be practiced practically anywhere, alone or in a group.

This is quite a demanding set of prerequisites for a perfect form of exercise. Let's see if Yoga measures up to these standards.

Yoga is a discipline that has its routes in India. The documents that modern Yoga is based on are hundreds of years old, and the principles behind these documents were practiced long before that. It is a low-impact form of exercise that has been tweaked and customized by literally thousands of different teachers and enthusiasts. They are numerous resulting 'styles' of Yoga, but they all have the same core background and beliefs. What we refer to as Yoga in the West is usually the physical component of an entire life philosophy that has its own beliefs and code of ethics built in.

The physical focus of Yoga is on poses and slow movements that are low impact and usually use nothing more than our own body. Sometimes props and supports are used to assist the body in achieving and holding a particular pose. The poses can vary greatly in their degree of difficulty and even the same pose can have many different stages or levels. The perfect example is a simple forward stretch. One person may be able to stretch out past their knees, another may be able to reach their ankles and somebody else may be able to touch the floor. This level of progression allows us to see a physical difference in our flexibility level as we practice Yoga more regularly. And because Yoga does not require any special equipment we are not refined to set class times and can practice Yoga anywhere and any time the fancy takes us. We can even do breathing exercises to clear the mind while sitting at a work desk.

Yoga has some incredible health benefits which stem from controlled breathing and increased blood flow. Our body's organs simply do not operate at peak efficiency unless they are receiving the oxygen and nutrients that they need. The waste products from our muscles and organs are carried away by the lymphatic system. Both systems can develop chokepoints and blockages that different Yoga poses will address and correct. The result is a better more regular blood pressure, a more efficient immunity system, and an optimal digestive process.

Because Yoga movements are slow and simple, the focus on correct breathing has a pronounced mental effect on the body. It provides us with an enhanced ability to focus, and to un-clutter our thoughts. This is a valuable edge in modern life and its importance should not be underestimated.

Finally, many regular Yoga enthusiasts will tell you that there is a spiritual side to Yoga, how far this affects an individual will probably depend on their beliefs before they begin practicing Yoga, but it can perhaps be thought of most accurately with greater comfort and connection with your own body. The increased acceptance of yourself, and comfort with your own being results directly in more happy people.

So, it looks like Yoga does indeed check all the boxes and can be thought of as a perfect exercise form.

#yoga training #yoga #yoga centre #yoga life #learn yoga #yoga institute #yogaindiafoundation

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lotornomiko · 3 years

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Triumph’s Tribulation Five Sneak Peak

Ah I usually don’t like posting until a chapter is complete, but I am having a lot of problems offline, in addition to the the third and final segment of the chapter, the check in on Midgard, is giving me no end of difficulties. It was supposed to be a Rufus POV but seeing as his POV keeps derailing the fic and my timeline, I will take whoever I can get to be the narrating voice for Alicia and Co. at this point.

I’ve actually debated posting five as it is, but I am trying to have each chapter have three segments, even if one segment ends up being incrediably small like the Lenneth interlude was in uh was it chapter two...?

Right now I have Loki (With Frei!) and Lezard’s parts done...I am posting the Lezard part at least...it[’s mostly finalized, although I’ll probably tweak some words here and there when I go over it for the umpteenth millionth time...X_X

I’d say this scene is PG 13, though it is Lezard so has some darker edge to it...but still hopefully worksafe...! Side note, the A ending got strongly influenced after rewatching the A ending, and all the events leading up to it. It left me with the strong impression and opinion that Lenneth had some kind of mental, nervous break down when the seal broke. I think I even wrote down a few lines from it...if not to use in this chapter, then maybe a future one! I’m also currently in the midst of rewatching VP 2: Silmeria...so maybe that will find my muse for the Midgard crew in this! XD

Onto the scene excerpt now!!

====

The marble of the floor had sealed itself together seamlessly, not so much as a sliver of a crack to betray the chaos that had gone on just moments earlier. That of the anger that had been felt, the world itself a living extension of what had been in its God’s heart. Such has been Lezard’s displeasure that in that moment, Creation itself had acted, moving to protect him and his interests, spiriting the frightened Goddess away to somewhere else safe. Safe from his rage, and safe from his desires, the man who had once been human, having pushed too hard, too fast, too soon.

She wasn’t ready. He knew that, every bit from her fight to her flight had in fact acknowledged it, the fear that was in Lenneth’s heart. It had sent her running, the Goddess scared, not so much of what he might do to her physically as much as the emotional havoc he had been intent on wreaking. The truths that had needed to be confronted, and with it would come all of its pain, such sorrow born of those lies that the woman had told herself. She wouldn’t be spared its sting, not even God himself able to shelter Lenneth from the agony of breaking free of such warped delusions. The comfort it had once given her, was now nothing more than a crutch, one that that divine beauty needed to break free of if that heart of hers was going to stand a chance at any true solace.

It wouldn’t be easy, that fact something Lezard could acknowledge in his more rational moments. His beloved needed a far gentler hand than he had thus far been capable of, that near overpowering lust of his, making him impatient and clumsy whenever she was so near. So consumed with the want of her, his attempt at a controlled veneer had all but shattered when her fear had turned violent, Lenneth’s fist finding its mark against his jaw. It had left him so close to doing something unforgivable, illusions torn and discarded if not for his world acting instead. Protecting him as much as her, Lenneth swallowed up whole into an abyss that had opened up beneath her feet.

Even now she was still there, free falling in an endless darkness, that heart of hers in an absolute turmoil that would only be the start of her unraveling. There was both pain and pleasure in the idea of it, Lenneth this intoxicating brand of everything that Lezard could have ever wanted. Her heart, her soul, that of her mind and her body, her tears, her agony, and that of her happiness, the man wanted it all. He was obsessed with the having of it, of attaining paradise with so perfect a being. It was so close to a reality, that he could almost taste it, his blood stained hands reaching for it, for her, Lezard this newly remade being, the ultimate Lord of it all, Lenneth and the effect she has always had on him, the one thing this God could not control.

Even now he was tempted, sheer folly though it would be to go after her right now. Lenneth was too wild in the moment, too angry and afraid, tormented by a truth he had only merely hinted at, such insinuations holding the strength to make a Goddess reel in an absolute terror. It was a fear not just for herself, for what might be done to her, but that of her world, the paradise that she had created. That perfect utopia that was nothing more than a lie that her wounded soul had retreated into, every insinuation that Lezard could make had the power to tear that universe apart from the root, the very foundations it had been built and brought to life upon.

It was a world of desires, that perfect paradise grounded in a pain so blatant that it had nearly torn the Goddess apart. That heart of hers that had been so ripped to pieces by the sins committed against her, it had left Lenneth reeling in an agony even she herself had not understood, the Goddess so overwhelmed in the moment as to escape into a fantasy. An illusion, the deceits woven there all by her own hand, the ageless woman latching onto a figment, the fragment that had been dangling before her. Seizing upon it, with that earring in her hand, out of all the lives she had slept through, it had been the latest, that of a child, a girl no older than fourteen when she had died, that had helped feed into a delusion. In that moment she had been thinking not as a Goddess, but as a human, a child, torn apart by a loss that had been about more than just one man’s death.

The seal had been broken, a flood gate of emotions overtaking the Goddess. How much agony had it been, to remember them all, every last life that had hosted Lenneth inside them. The highs and the lows, their joys and their pains, hundreds upon hundreds of women, all helping to shape the Valkyrie’s humanity. Her compassionate heart, the depth of her millennia of experience far more than anything those scant fourteen years as Platina could have given. She was just a sliver of what had helped shaped the Goddess, so small and inferior a speck, the child was not who Lenneth was meant to be.

So much more than any one human girl, Lenneth was in fact a being so uniquely her own. A caring Goddess, one whose capacity to feel and sympathize with the mortals a threat that Odin and the other Gods could not abide by. They hadn’t killed her, they had done WORSE, the woman’s free will taken from her, her true sense of being SEALED away.

A safeguard meant to control that which the Gods could not understand, that human compassion that that particular Goddess had been gifted with, the likes of which had been cultivated and learned over the course of a millennia of different hosts. Through them she had loved, and Lenneth had cared, the woman so wholly unique in her ability to FEEL, the Goddess the champion that the mortals had needed. The Gods had feared it, feared Lenneth and the allegiance that such emotions had wrought, Odin needing the Valkyrie to be a good little soldier who fell into line with his own selfish wants. Unable to dominate her as she had truly been, that tyrannous God had tried to eradicate her spirit, that of her true self, through such archaic means, such a brutal manipulation of the self, such that Lenneth had been little more than a doll. A puppet, beautiful and perfect, and so wholly without the feelings that would have interfered with the Heavens’ schemes.

The Gods had seen her as nothing more than a Death Goddess, a chooser of the slain to bolster their own armies with the souls of dead heroes. They had let her pick from the brave as though they were mere flowers, calling into service warriors from all corners of Midgard. Leaving her exposed to the very thing that the Gods themselves had feared, the emotions that were so plentiful in the humans, putting cracks in the shield erected around Lenneth’s heart. Bit by bit, that ancient magic had been worn away, the seal itself eroded with each and every encounter, until it had finally shattered, and with it went Lenneth’s mind, the woman having snapped.

It must have been so, so overwhelming, to have been hit at once with all those feelings, with the many lives she had slept through, their hopes, their desires, all coming to life within Lenneth in startling clarity. Was it any wonder she had lost her true self in the process, spinning from one host to another, again and again, until she had latched onto the most recent, that of the child, those scant years of fourteen the most overwhelming dream of them all given how fresh it had still been.

Even grounded in that child’s psyche, it had proved too much. Lezard himself had born witness to it, to that mental break that the Goddess had had. The tears that had fallen, the screaming that had been done, it hadn’t been just the Goddess, but the child, Platina, made horrified by the one solace of her life, Lucian the only kindness and warmth she had ever known, LOST, killed in turn by his own refusal to let go of his own delusions.

It had all been such a mess, a tragedy the likes of which all else had fallen short. Her puppet strings not just severed, but left tangled across the board, Lenneth had been operating on a grief born madness, forgetting who she really was, to play fantasy for one ignorant human. For some fake facsimile of him, Lucian a shadow, his miraculous return to life nothing more than a figment born of Lenneth’s own desperation and desires. Instead of the warrior she had known, he was something new, a puppet who was nothing more than some idealized version of who she had thought him to be, Lucian just one of the many dolls whose every thought had been painstakingly crafted by Lenneth’s power.

Creation itself had been remade on desire, on such potent delusions and lies, the many souls there not the people they had once been. They were just shadows of those that had died, annihilated in the Ragnarok that Lucian had helped Loki bring about. It hadn’t just ended lives, it had wiped out everything, including that of nearly every living being’s soul from existence, such devastation a permanent end, the cycle of rebirth itself destroyed. Such finality was there to it, that no one, not even God, could fight against, the world and its people entirely eradicated.

It left the world in complete ruins, Lenneth’s land a paradise populated in lies. It was a copy, a mere imitation of what had once been, formulated out of fragmented glimpses, the memories she had gathered, the people there nothing more than a pathetic bunch of puppets. They were just these hollow husks of what she thought them to be, these seemingly ideal versions ultimately falling short, all an attempt that was unfulfilling when it came towards truly easing the pain in the Goddess’ heart. They were all lies that couldn’t make her truly happy, anymore than they could satisfy her needs. Each and every last one of them, Lenneth living in a farce, a waking dream that could crumble apart so easily given the right push. If enough care wasn’t given, the Goddess would crumble again with it, her psyche perhaps lost to yet another kind of fantasy.

Lezard couldn’t lie and claim that he hadn’t considered it. Hadn’t given thought to molding Lenneth into a fantasy that would suit HIM best. But ultimately, he didn’t want the illusion, that of those broken remnants of who the Goddess had once been. He wouldn’t be satisfied with just a sliver, wouldn’t embrace the farce of just one of her sides. He wanted her everything and her all, Lezard made mad with the desire, with that need. It fueled him, his obsession with Lenneth the motivating strength that had led Lezard into doing the impossible again and again. He had died for her, traveled through time for her, even become a God for her, such a warped semblance of love a catalyst that had no limits and no match. Not even Lucian could compete, that young man unable to see past Platina, and past the Valkyrie, to the supreme manifestation of the woman, a Goddess so sublime as to move a heart that had once been so unfeeling.

Her mark left on him, Lenneth had helped shaped Lezard into this mad man, so utterly devoted in the pursuit of her. Worlds had been ruined, people slaughtered, time itself run roughshod all over, yet his hands were no less dirty than any of the other Gods. Than even HERS, Lezard creating his own world, his own perfect paradise to ease the pain that was in HIS heart. That it spilled hurt onto others, was of no concern, Lezard an unfeeling God who had no desire to rule or be worshiped by anyone other than by Lenneth.

Such blasphemies should have been sins enough to weigh even God down, yet Lezard was instead made unburdened by it all, free of the demands the throne of Creation should have made of him. He was free, having discarded duty the way he had discarded bodies, nothing but time on his hand, and power, and harboring a patience that was fast running out.

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#valkyrie profile #lenneth valkyrie #lezard valeth #Triumph's Tribulations #fanfiction #fanfic #wip #sneak peek

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mens-fashion-thing · 3 years

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7 Men's Hair Trend to Copy in 2021

It is indeed nice not to walk in because of constraints to give your hairdresser the head up for past years. You realize that everyone does their finest haircut to ensure the care of what they love, and can have the spot where men can sit back and enjoy salon stay. Salon makes statements on styling, asks people to shape their hair when entering, and does not use old fashion anymore.

2021 the year where a man who means it a quick and hit haircut. Attempting with the review of bolder cuts and shapes last year, a few of the best men's trends we've seen in a time deliver this year. But you should be distant from other hairstylists and because they try to distance is difficult, you cannot isolate yourself from the trendy style chopping your hair.

1. Mohawk mid fade haircut

In 2021, you can try this trendsetting haircut. It has a cool layered surface a simple, fading, youthful haircut. The new year opens a great remark, and that is just what this hairdo offers. Never only, that but we didn't see the smooth mid fade with the tempest on the line-up. It is really fashionable due to its mohawk taste with a brush-up strand. Catch your hair's sides smoothly and rock for a longer time. Comb back the long part, for something like an amazingly soft feel.

And protect your guy with having a flexible or one that fits your natural hair on the sides of the neck.

2. Pump it up with pompadour

That stylus of the pompadour is never out. It not only suits almost every face kind but can also be worn anywhere from the family outing to the workout and the job by men of all ages.

Bring this unique style with a lot of edges to your look, which will have others thinking of your trendy hair instead of fine hair.

Pompadour does not even seem a formal hairdo, among the most distinct and common hair ideas. Work evenly through the hair, using your fingers to lift the hair upwards from the roots.

Use items with a smooth finish, rather than the conventional oily wet look, to match your pompadour with a sleek cut on your side to keep clean, fresh, and relative. But this audacious and artsy feel with quick tweaks can be tailored for the workplace.

3. Edgy crew cut

For a much cleaner and sleek way, the crew cut is perfect to tap. Keep your face chuckled softly and thin side fade for a cleaner look.

You must allow your hairstylist to learn your own styles of a haircut as a man. It is also very crucial to make your manhood also a skilled haircutter. It is very necessary. So even after it grows up, your men will continue this practice. Crew cut gives you long time of no cutting hair. If possible just fade on either bottom side of your hairline.

Both back and sides of the skin are uniformly buzzed or shorter, generally faded with taper fade or short faded clippers between both the skin and a clipper size of 1-4, based on the look.

4. Catchy sleek Man Bun

The bun is just what you barely tell — a bun carried by a long-haired guy. It could be a high bun or low bun. According to height it can be high knot bun also.

Just wrapping your hair so you can slice back your hair and draw attention to your trendy bun If you have straight or wavy hair.

A mini ponytail man bun is practically dumb when you're a newbie with a haircut. You simply have to collect your hair behind your ears, so that any bumps or peaks are smoothed.

This may not seem like the easy thing if you have never put your hair in a bun yet. In a few moments, you have possibly seen ladies threw their hair into biscuits, and you'll finally do it.

5. Quiff with fade

Although the quiff is among the world's most elegant hairstyles, the low fade and hard component gives a personal flourish. Using a spray or pomade to say no hair is missing to keep the style appealing offices adequate.

It all depends on how low or how far you're going to go. Contact your hairdresser, as you will specify how high and how small you need to go away and side by side, by means of the color and face. It takes little styling to be the greatest thing about this short layered quiff.

6. Manly Wavy flow hair

Try a middle or side portion and let the texture of your hair do its thing. It is best on the oval facial type.

Run a sprayer of salt or curl cream over your moist hair twist it and dry it. It can change quickly or when you're looking for layered wavy hair.

Everything you need to do is use a drop of natural oils or cream, which makes long wavy hair that one of the lowest maintained outfits.

You should let id free your hair in a confine for men with very long hair. The waves begin from the near the shoulder, which would be valid for wavy hair.

7. Dread braid look

Cool and easy-going, this dread is ideal for men who want to look at rough hair with a low fade.

Dreadlocks are some of the hairstyles that have quickly gained fame in dye styling days and managed to make a bustle in the twist braid. If your hair gets even too long, you will start to back grip. The sides are tapered with medium drop fade, which supports all this look and the dread. That helps hair grow more easily and is an inconvenient process. If you choose to keep a bit of fade haircut on top, back and side, opt for a mixed hairstyle.

Many men say they are trend friendly, but in reality they prefer to have one that stays up over time. In general, a thinner dark dreadlock would sound more smooth and finished, and a more sturdy and masculine hair flow by giving back support. Good to know that you men display that the dread hairs are dye , twist,braid and highlight.

If the hairstyle is very tidy, the roots can breath more and more easily. Trendy men's hairstyle has been developed from past years all about a hairstyle that contains no stigma. Their fashionable hairstyles for men will be blessed this year. You must ensure the latest hairstyles to borrow the trend haircut. It is all the regarding for expecting cool men styling. After come,you get the positive review and recover the dull past year.

#2021 hair #menfashionthing #menshairfashion #menstrendyhair #hairformen #latest hairstyle

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glimmergaming937 · 3 years

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How does opening ports help gaming

Ideas For Beginning A Gaming Weblog

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buzzdixonwriter · 4 years

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The Love Of Money As The Root Of All Evil

��Should any political party attempt to abolish social security, unemployment insurance and eliminate labor laws and farm programs, you would not hear of that party again in our political history. There is a tiny splinter group, of course, that believes that you can do these things. Among them are a few Texas oil millionaires, and an occasional politician or businessman from other areas. Their number is negligible and they are stupid.” -- Dwight David Eisenhower

People love their money.

They love their bargains.

They’ll rush to Wal-Mart to buy a plastic bowl for $1 rather than one at a local mom & pop shop for $1.50.

Of course, very little of that $1 they spent at Wal-Mart stays in their community -- a few pennies in the form of low wages, but then we have to add our tax money going for SNAP cards because Wal-Mart’s employees often don’t make enough to live on.

Not like the mom & pop shop, where the 50-cents extra they charged pretty much stayed in the community: They paid for their house, they bought their kids clothes, put food on their table…

Mom & pop? Working for Wal-Mart now.

Living in a cramped apartment, not that nice house they dreamed of retiring in.

The stores and businesses that depended on them spending their income in town?

Most of them have gone under, absorbed by Wal-Mart and other big box multi-national conglomerations.

As much as the moral scolds like to tell us Rome fell because they were decadent, the truth is Rome at its gladiatorial / orgy worse was Rome at the peak of its power and influence.

It fell after it split apart.

And it split apart because the Western half didn’t want to pay for the upkeep of the Eastern half, i.e., the business end of the empire.

The Eastern half needed roads and infrastructure and sound political government and armies (oh, lordie, how they needed armies) and the fat cat landed gentry in the Western -- protected by thousands of miles of terrain and sea from those who would do them harm -- refused to pay their fair share.

So Diocletian split the empire in twain, letting the greedy bastards to the west fend for themselves while he established a new empire that would eventually become known as Byzantium to the east.

The Western empire, what we think of when we refer to the Roman Empire, fell a little less than two centuries after that, overrun by Germanic tribes (we call them “barbarians” but the kneeslapper is they were Christians.

Byzantium stayed a going concern for about a millennia after that, but eventually it fell for the same reason: The people taking the most out of the society refused to pay anything into it, and a younger / tougher empire (the Ottomans) came a’knockin’.

Without Pax Romana the Mediterranean world became a far more violent / perilous place. Europe split up into a plethora of kingdoms / principalities / duchies constantly jostling with one another to take more money.

Oh, sometimes there were inventions and technological breakthroughs that added coins to the coffers, but mostly it was finding a neighbor who had something you wanted, figuring out their weakness, and taking it from them.

The Enlightenment strove for a better world, but it took money to be a philosopher in those days and since that wealth typically came from peasants / serfs / slaves doing all the grunt work while the philosophers sat around thinking noble thoughts, it didn’t take long for racism -- the belief that there are different races and some are inherently superior to others (and those deemed inferior were good for nothing but common labor in order to keep the philosophers philosophizing).

Mind you, there had been prejudice and bigotry and chauvinism before, but while Hebrews and Philistines may have hated one another, they at least recognized their common humanity.

They didn’t decree the other to be doomed to perpetual servitude due to their so-called race.

The Enlightenment and Christianity did much to poison the well in Europe and later in America, but they did have some positive points.

Both, despite the cruelties their practitioners ladled out on others, held high ideals of universal rights.

Those ideals would live on, and foster generations of thinkers and ethicists and moralists to come.

But the cruel side had its fans, too.

The colonies that would eventually become the various nations of the American continents (and let’s not forget Australia and New Zealand while we’re at it) all responded with varying degrees of success to those ideals.

They also offered plenty of opportunities for those who loved wealth above all else to flourish, inevitably at the expense of huge segments of their respective populations.

As faulty and as flawed as the American Revolution was, it ended up sowing the seeds for similar movements in other countries.

In France they took root just as the clock ran out for the aristocracy.

Just as in Rome and Byzantium, the French rulers realized they were heading towards disaster. For a century and a half before the French Revolution, the various Louis would establish a royal commission made up of the best and the brightest in the kingdom, and had them examine the problem and offer a solution.

The solution was always the same: The ones with the wealth needed to take less and put some of what they had back.

Nobody wanted to hear that (well, nobody with money) and that’s why the guillotines were dropping day and night.

Various trade and crafts guilds had sprung up at that time; al were hammered down.

Socialist movements and parties were started; they were hammered down.

Trade unions were formed; they were hammered down.

But the thing was each movement that got hammered down created a more brilliant and far tougher phoenix to replace it.

By the late 19th / early 20th century communism looked mighty good to a lot of people.

Again, the intransigence of the greedy (call them financiers or industrialists or robber barons or whatever) pushed the world into war yet again, this time bankrupting Germany, Austria, and Hungary (as well as finishing off the Ottomans, last seen sacking Constantinople).

Around the world people clamored for more input, more control in their daily lives.

Czarist Russia -- brutal, heavy handed, autocratic czarist Russia -- fell to the Bolsheviks (who proved to be no less brutal, heavy handed, and autocratic than the czars).

Germany threatened to go down the same path and the industrialists and financiers -- who sure as hell weren’t missing any meals -- backed a crazy little ex-corporal who promised to keep the labor unions and the socialists and the communists under control.

We know how well that worked out.

In the United States, the wealth made their money directly or indirectly off the back of slave and immigrant labor, and when much to their great dismay the legal form of slavery disappeared, they found new methods of enforcing the old ways, which we now refer to as jim crow.

Poor whites weren’t much better off than their African-American neighbors, but as Lyndon Johnson observed: ”If you can convince the lowest white man he's better than the best colored man, he won't notice you're picking his pocket. Hell, give him somebody to look down on, and he'll empty his pockets for you."

The United States was not that much better than German when it came to race hatred.

Indeed, the Nazis -- even while condemning US segregation for propaganda purposes -- studied jim crow carefully and applied its lesson to non-Germans in their territories.

The wealthy 1% nearly destroyed the United States with the Great Depression, but the gratitude they showed to Roosevelt for saving capitalism was to undercut and fight him every step of the way.

Because, hey, if it wasn’t making money right now for them!!! then it had to be evil, right?

Right?

And just as the plantation owners in the antebellum South used propaganda to argue slavery was actually a good thing for those enslaved (because both the Bible and Darwin -- at least according to their readings -- said so), so did their spiritual / philosophical / and too damn often direct biological heirs with their anti-communist rants via the John Birch Society and other front groups.

Fred Koch, founder of the Koch family fortune, also founded the John Birch Society.

And let the record show that when the Koch family businesses operate within the law, they do nothing illegal. They anticipate the ebb and flow of supply and demand and invest accordingly. Nothing wrong with that -- but there’s a lot wrong with what they use the money for.

For generations Americans have been told that socialism is bad, that Marxism is a failure.

And the truth is socialism works when it’s used wisely, to put the brakes on the worst excesses of capitalism.

And Marx gets a bad rap for what he didn’t do; i.e., the spurious claim that he created the blueprints for world domination.

Marx was a brilliant diagnostician but woefully lacking as a hands on practitioner.

The thing is…Marx knew this and recognized it.

Das Kapital analyzed the problem of capitalism in the 19th century.

Marx never intended it to be the final word on the matter.

He wanted those who came after him to be constantly examining and critiquing the way politics and finance work, so that both systems could be constantly tweaked and modified.

His posthumous work, Grundrisse (short for “Fundamentals of Political Economy Criticism”) were not intended for publication but rather Marx’ own personal resource / reference notebooks for his other work.

He was never satisfied with it and put it aside, possibly because he felt the topic was too great for just one writer to expound on.

Of course, once he was dead nobody cared, and it was promoted as literally the last word on the topic when in reality it was filled with what Marx himself would acknowledge as half-baked ideas, concepts he was spitballing in an attempt to find the real, underlying truth.

Imagine somebody finds some wistful half-completed bucket list you leave behind when you die and tries to live their lives according to that.

Gives you an idea of the problem, no?

But just as the hard line communists in Russia embraced Grundrisse for their purposes, so did Fred Koch and the John Birch Society for their own purposes.

Koch was a businessman who dealt with Russia in the days before WWII.

(Most international money people are whores and will go wherever they can find a buck.)

He didn’t like what he saw -- a fair enough assessment -- but what scared him was that there was something in the underlying structure of Russian society that might be appealing to non-communists.

Remember what I said about the Enlightenment and Christianity?

Add Marxism to that.

It ain’t the solution to all the world’s ills, but damn, it ain’t wrong about the causes.

Now the way the Koch clan tells it, when Fred saw Red, he realized it was a brutal, unworkable economic system and to stop it from spreading, he needed to form the John Birch Society to keep it from taking root in America.

Hold that thought.

If a system is unworkable, just let it collapse.

In fact, as a capitalist you should be interested in propping it up as long as possible both in order to rake in as much cash off them as you can in the time they have left and to make its ultimate collapse an even bigger warning to future workers.

The Koch propaganda machine has been working for literally generations to keep Americans from examining what’s wrong with our system.

They embrace racism because it enables them to keep labor costs down by pitting one group against another.

They fund the evangelical fringe, not necessarily because they believe them, but because they can deliver large swaths of the voting population.

(And of course, many white evangelicals prove themselves to be bigots, so promising to get rid of their taxes and keep “those” kids out of their schools and neighborhoods goes hand-in-hand).

They made a couple of runs at getting their agenda pushed through -- notably with Goldwater (who failed) and Reagan (who didn’t) -- but their desire to take more money by rendering all form of socially just government regulations impotent has produced an unintended consequence.

Donald Trump.

Just as the mad little corporal tapped in on simmer racial and religious resentment in Germany, Trump has done the same here.

A lot of white people are scared that their day is O.V.E.R.

At current demographic projections, come 2048 white people will drop to only 49% of the population.

The largest minority in a nation of minorities.

That means they’ve going to have to learn to cut deals with other groups.

And those groups, because they were marginalized for literally centuries, have learned to be much more self-reliant, much more imaginative, much more focused, much more innovative.

African-American culture is going to dominate the United States in the second half of the 21st century and well into the 22nd.

I want us to walk away from the precipice.

I want us to recognize there is literally no future in burning down the house to make sure the black folks don’t get in.

I want us to recognize reasonable precautions and controls on capitalism do not make people poor but rather prevent poverty from ruining lives.

But I fear for this country.

A few other empires, as they started splintering, recognized their peril and took steps to minimize the chaos and impact.

It took ‘em a while, but England managed to learn to let go of its vast empire in peaceful / democratic / diplomatic ways that enabled them to maintain good relations with former colonies around the globe.

The Koch mentality can’t do that, I’m afraid.

It can’t abide the thought that somebody else has a say in how they do business for the simple reason that those people’s lives are adversely affected by choices the Koch empire makes.

But we as a nation need to also recognize we slit our own throats every time we place price first and foremost in our shopping.

The Trump supporters who bemoan the demise of their single industry towns never seem to realize the decline started when they began saving a few pennies by shopping at big box stores and franchise fast food restaurants.

In their desire to save a few pennies, they threw away family fortunes.

History offers some grim warnings about empires that slide into this level of oligarchy.

Rome fell.

So did Constantinople.

The guillotine blade fell again and again and again until finally people were willing to accept Napoleon in order to regain stability.

And Napoleon started wars that led to World War One…

…and World War One allowed Hitler to rise thanks to the industrialists and the financiers.

The 1% of their generation.

We have to be more informed and more insightful in our daily choices.

What profit a person if they save a few pennies, yet lose their soul?

#capitalism #Marxism #socialism #morals #ethics #politics

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vapormaison · 4 years

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Best of 2019 Vaporwave Release 3/4: Sensual Loops SPECIAL EDITION by Cyber Club

As vaporwave matures and enters the mainstream, I often find myself having discussions with vapor heads on reddit about the iconography of the genre. I realize that this is a bad idea, but cannot help myself. More often than not, they are pointlessly terse, and tend to be tediously teleological — the type of argumentation featuring enough loops of logic to cause a medieval Byzantine monk’s head to spin.

A recurring topic that baits me every single time is when a poster attempts to criticize the album art of a record, dismissing the entire work on the based on “anime” aesthetics. While this might seem like an argument so off-center and reductive that it’s parody— I’d encourage you to go on r/VaporVinyl and take a look at some of the posts replying to threads about Cyber Club’s Sensual Loops LP series. It’s not pretty, and representative where some of the fanbase is at the moment. Adding to my shock was when one of the self-appointed critics outed themselves as twenty three years old. At that moment, I was forced to confront my own bias. I had mistakenly assumed that the puritan was an out-of-touch Gen Xer or a Baby Boomer. Aesthetic intolerance is not exclusive — and plenty of Zoomers are members of this trash clique as well.

What really boggled my mind, however, was that the user had picked vaporwave out of all the other possible genres to go on their Nipponophobic soapbox against. A quick look at the aesthetic movement as a whole (sonically, artistically, etc.) establishes it as what I would assert as a primarily millennial genre — less of a statement about its creators and consumers, and more about the broader, overarching cultural milieu in which in developed. It was birthed in the decade that heralded the mass-consumption of Japanese media in the Western marketplace. Many of its early practitioners got their start chopping and screwing anime OSTs and hip hop. Future Funk effectively appeared on the sonic map by the sampling of Japanese city pop. What is even worth arguing here?

But that which bothered me even more was the user’s stubborn refusal to even listen to the album. You can not buy a vinyl because you just have a particular aversion to cover art — that’s fine! Better yet, you can not buy a vinyl just because you’re not a fan of the sound. Those are two perfectly fine reasons not to partake in a release. But then to go on reddit and complain about an album aesthetic for something you haven’t even listened to? Come on, fam. Level up your praxis. It is the whitewashing and the boorishness that is most infuriating. I’ve legitimately never heard of anyone who dismissed an entire album’s music purely on the basis of its vinyl cover art before.

And shame on them, because they are sleeping on one of the best works of 2019.

The limited edition of Sensual Loops 1 & 2 is another LP that I had the luxury of listening to while on my East Asia tour. I brought the album (among others) with me to visit a very good pal of mine, Han, who’s retired to Hong Kong. Much to my relief, he’s in a comparatively spacious apartment over in the Tai Wo area — by no means the stereotypical postage stamp — and has set up a little audiophile pad that I’m most envious of. His setup is devoted to all things B&W, and I got a beautiful listen of the album on a pair of impressive and almost imposing 700-series floor standers. Powered by the Cambridge Audio Edge series Amp/Pre combo, this was far above even my paygrade. But after working as a salaryman for two decades, he was finally able to invest in his endgame system. And what an endgame it is!

Getting the chance to listen Sensual Loops on this system cemented my opinion when I had first heard it’s release digitally: I was listening to an instant contender for the best vaporwave release of 2019.

Sensual Loops 1

Introduction immediately fills your speakers with a wide, warm guitar and horn loops that feature just enough static noise to distinguish itself as a vaporwave track. I always like it when a little minute-thirty track gives the amp a little exercise. It also proves to be a perfect sonic setup for the next track, which is ostensibly what every “intro” track should do, right?

Night carries that guitar riff from Introduction but adds a playful variance with a synth loop, and vocals that I believe are sampled from that Philly Soul classic “Children of the Night” done by the Stylistics and the Jones Girls’, among others. All of the moving parts here do wonders, syncing together in a perfect arrangement. Both Han and I commented on just how bright this played on his JBLs, which is a testament to the mix and mastering work here.

Love & Affection definitely feels the most retro-vapor of all the tracks on Sensual Loops 1, beginning with a series of loops, riffs, and synth chimes that feel as if they were picked from a certain collection of sitcoms of an early nineties vintage. The heavily distorted vocals and hypnotic drum kits pop in after about a minute to give the track an almost deep house feel as it progresses. The “all mine” hook then crescendos into a symphony of drum hits that conclude the track with a real sonic flutter in the air when played with high-end speakers.

Pain accelerates the rather slow pace of the album up to this point. I’m a big fan of the synth arrangement that opens the track, and I schmood even more with the powerfully funky vocal set that carries the track throughout. But with its short length, it does feel more like an interlude or setup for what I consider to be the highlight of the LP.

Memories is our certified slapper. It starts off immediately with an incredibly catchy synth chord arrangement supplemented by a fantastically tweaked vocal sample from the fantastically, alliteratively-named Melba Moore, another funky soul queen who needs a revival in the contemporary lexicography.

Sensual definitely swings the record a bit further away from the future funk and back towards the vapor-funk side of things. Back are cyber club’s usual array of jumpy, tinny synth chords and manipulated vocal micro-samples that still provide a really robust sonic experience on the hi-fi system of your choice. When the vocals make their appearance about ninety seconds in, I was expecting them to sound much less rich in the middle than they did, which was definitely a present surprise on the mastering side!

Alone is a beautiful cacophony of micro-samples with a vocal track manipulated to sound like an 80s ideal of a future robot gf. I’m not sure how else to describe this track except as pure atmosphere. The fluttering synths, muted percussion, electric highs that send tweeters bouncing — it’s difficult to precisely describe how a track like this comes over a hi-fi system like the Edge. It just pulls out every detail from an immensely dense track like this and does it every bit the justice it deserves.

Paradise ends up taking a traditional funk and re-engineering it into a sort of quasi-tropical sound similar to some of the early Aloe Island Posse bangers. It’s got a much more lo-fi edge to the track then most future funk takes on a track like this, and creates a really unique and playful experience.

Bliss is almost raw synth pop with a hardened vapor edge to it. Although the original sample is from a very soulful electro R&B outfit — the Loose Ends — we get aggressive drums and synth loops that bring this closer to Paula Abdul than anything that could be traditionally considered rhythm and blues. Just enough manipulation of the vocal sample and some well-timed percussion hits make this more fit for a night out than a baby-making session in, which is both remarkable and a testament to cyber club’s skill.

Sensual Loops 2

Intro captures a little more of than urban-turned-Island soundscape that we caught a glimpse of in Paradise. I’m eternally impressed by this, as it seems like Cyber Club never gets too caught up in the production to bring this too far from its vapor essence while still making this a great lede in its own right.

Sensual was a track I was initially expecting to be a remix or redux of the first Sensual from Sensual Loops 1, but I’m glad to see this piece of bass-heavy vapor exists as its own full-bodied track in its own right. It grabs you immediately with its “I’ll never give up on you” vocal loop spliced in among its synth array, and carries you through with an intriguing arrangement of instrumental loops and micro-samples throughout. The low end can really shine here with the right system.

Hold Her Now is a piece of nostalgic, vintage vaporwave straight out of the Saint Pepsi era. Ostensibly a creative cut-up some New Jack Swing that absolutely slaps with the right electric guitar riff and synthetic percussion hit, it harkens back to when vaporwave was in its “peak aesthetics” phase of production and plunder-phonic glory. Perhaps this reminder of what vaporwave used to be unfairly biases me, but it’s definitely a listen for the nostalgia driven old-heads.

Affair is the type of track that sounds completely different on certain types of stereos. While Han’s stereo brought out the crisp, wide vocal mix — perhaps a testament to Cambridge’s design history, my Harman Kardon/KEF pairing brought the synth flares here to the fore. The testament to this track is that I really enjoyed both profiles, and Affair sounded robust and detailed throughout.

Kiss is one of the tracks that I felt coolest on upon an initial listen, which is perhaps a statement to just how much I enjoyed this album. When presented with the innovative arrangements of tracks like Hold Her Now or Memories, I was left feeling that Kiss doesn’t do enough in its minute thirty second runtime. That being said, it’s fun. And that’s what music can and should be at the end of the day, isn’t it?

Touch heaps on that vapor memory with some creative vocal layering, tinny and distorted high-end flutters, and an electric horn that came out swinging in the Cambridge system, much to my surprise. It’s clear at this point that Cyber Club has created a very particular listening experience here, and I’m oh so fond of it.

Special makes a funky classic fresh and electric again, which is what I’m really starting to vibe with in terms of the Cyber Club oeuvre. It serves as a sort of confirmation, a celebration and an altogether fantastic close to the LP.

Vinyl Physicality & Listening Experience

I like black vinyl. This milquetoast statement has earned for me the ire of some enthusiasts on r/VaporVinyl when I post on my alt-account there. Because vaporwave attracts curators with “experience” in the music industry, I’ve been told by “serious LP collectors [who know] label managers” — the type of folks who spin on $100 Crosley turntables bought at a Kohl’s Black Friday sale — that new black vinyls just doesn’t sell anymore. Not for vaporwave, at least. A release should have a colored vinyl or not release at all!

This was a take from the same twenty-three year old who wouldn’t purchase Sensual Loops because of the hentai on the cover — so take that for what you will.

I’ve always liked the supplier that Sic Records uses — whoever they are. The vinyls always have a bit of mass and heft to them, leading me to guess that they’re probably in the 180g range. But that’s just my finger test. My Jungle2000 vinyl feels just as weighty. I’ve always believed there’s a definite spectrum with black vinyls — from the frail Qrate cheap options to the high end audiophile oriented waxes like the beautifully crafted Victor Japan and Columbia waxes from the late 80s and early 90s that you see most city pop and anime OSTs pressed on.

The masters on these records are definitely intriguing for the format. My biggest critique of vaporwave vinyl at this point is that some labels don’t take the requisite care to put out a good vinyl master, and often just end up going all-in with poorly optimized digital release ones. The folks at Sic definitely know what they’re doing — because this ended up playing great on a number of systems and speakers, from my KEFs and H/K setup, to a friends Technics mid-fi rig, to Han’s Cambridge endgame. Each time, we got a wide-but-not-too-wide play without the sound edging towards the bright end of the spectrum too intensely. I think this is important because it respects a lot of the samples used. The mixing work done on a lot of the Philly soul here definitely had a certain muted approach that really brought out the most from the vocals and left instrumental arrangements to a moderately more ambient role. I get that impression of continuity here and love it for that.

In short, you should snap up this release while you can. It’s a great release, and fuck the vaporwave nannies who’d shut down Cyber Club’s best two albums without even a listen. May that /u/ go down with u/hoesmad_ on r/Vaporwave’s wall of shame.

#bestof2019 #vaporwave

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clumsydarknut · 5 years

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The Spirit of the Hero - Chapter 1

My take on the AU by Jojo over at @linkeduniverse . I loved the design and the idea, but did some tweaking to the character ages and origins to better fit my plot. Hope it’s good. Enjoy.

Beginning (That’s this! Hi!) | Next | Most Recent (more to follow)

Link jolted awake. The cold air forced its way into his lungs more than he inhaled it. His heart pounded in his chest as he panted. Wha-? Where-?

Above him was a dark piece of sky outlined by thick branches. As the shock wore off he became aware of the chilled earth beneath him. He grasped at the soft pine needles on the forest floor to bring some life to his limbs. Bending his frozen fingers stung, but at least they still worked.

With some effort he sat up, putting a hand to his head. Soft moonlight outlined a small clearing, rimmed by towering pine trees. Only small tufts of grass poked up through the thick bed of needles and pinecones. Obviously, very few beings had ever set foot here, meaning that whatever forest this was, he was very deep into it. But where exactly is this? More importantly, how did I get here? He squinted at the patch of stars above him, tracing from star to star in the hopes of finding a familiar constellation. None appeared, but very few were visible anyway.

Sighing, he turned his attention away from the sky. His fingers, though cold, were far from frostbitten, and none of the forest dust had seemed to settle on his soft green tunic. With further inspection he found the soles of his boots spotless, and his hair mostly without tangles. However he had gotten here, he hadn’t been here long. What was I doing? Where was I before?

Images of a castle interior flashed through his mind. Warm smiles, laughter, music. Next to him, a woman in pink with beautiful auburn hair. That’s right. The feast. Her awakening feast. The Princess had just given a toast, and then… Link gasped and began searching his pockets. Sword, shield, bow, potions, but where is it? It can’t be gone.

At last, in the bottom of his rupee pouch, his hand clasped around the small wooden box. It’s still here. Good. His relief quickly turned into confusion. But if I still have it, what happened? I was about to make my toast, and… Try as he might, the last thing he could remember was clinking his goblet with his spoon. This is all too strange. An invasion? But I seem unharmed. Magic, perhaps? But I wasn’t wearing this tunic at the feast. What magic would change my clothes but also provide me with my weapons?

The wind licked his face and sent a chill down his spine. Whatever had happened, trying to puzzle it out here would do little good. There was little in the way of shelter. Traversing the woods at night wasn’t ideal either, but the moon was at its peak. The light wouldn’t be this good for much longer.

Link pushed himself to his feet, adjusting his equipment. With another glance at the sky he found south and started off. Though the forest was dark, it was certainly not empty. Crickets chirped and a creek bubbled in the distance. If this was the forest he was thinking of, the nearest town would surely be south. Few pine forests grew so thickly in Hyrule as the ones on the northern border. Of course, that was on the assumption that this was, in fact, Hyrule. He tried to ignore that thought and instead take comfort in the familiarity of forest travel.

Several hours in the forest was not a bother to Link. As a child he had loved exploring the woods. Handy with a sword and fascinated by wildlife, it was one of those many adventures that led to his meeting with Impa. He had never really returned from that adventure. Then again, he hadn’t much to return to in the first place. By then, the wilderness had become more of a home to him than… well, he couldn’t remember much about his life in the village. Both life in the village and life in the castle seemed equally foreign to him.

But I can learn to live in a castle, he chuckled, ducking under another branch. For her, I can learn to live in a castle.

As the moon began to dip the trees began to thin. Pine needle carpets gave way to more underbrush, and animal tracks became more common. He was entering a younger portion of the woods where the trees weren’t quite so tall, letting him see further ahead. In the distance he could see the gleam of water. No rumble of waves, so probably not a river. A lake, maybe? The water source was a good sign that civilization might be nearby. But just as the forest could harbor wolves and monsters, so could towns harbor thieves. He caught sight of a plume of smoke and tightened the strap on his wallet.

Link crept from the tree line into what appeared to be a traveler’s town. The dirt road, winding along between cottages and small gardens, was well worn. The heavy wheel ruts told him it had seen many wagons. Other than the lake, the village seemed absent of any valuable resources. Likely a halfway point between two larger towns. Far enough apart that a rest stop is warranted. There must be an inn of sorts somewhere.

Walking along the path, he quickly found what he was looking for. In the center of town, right on the waterfront, stood the town’s only three-story building. Above the main doors hung a sign bearing “The White Wolfos Inn” in cracked blue and white paint. Propped up in one of the windows, a slate read “Home of Hyrule’s Best Ale!” So I am in Hyrule. He reached for the door.

“It won’t open. It’s after hours.”

The voice made Link jump. Left of the door on a bench sat a young man roughly the same age as he. About a head shorter, he sported a traveler’s cloak, well-worn boots, brown trousers, and leather gauntlets. His golden hair was straight and cut off at the jaw, but wavy tufts here and there made it appear as though it took a lot of work to keep it that way. Across his forehead was tied a deep green headband, and beneath the cloak Link could see what looked like a tunic pieced together with four different colored fabrics – green, red, blue, and purple.

“I tried knocking already, and no luck,” the boy continued, “but I’m not surprised, seeing it’s about three in the morning.” He gestured to the bench. Link took the seat but made sure to keep a hand on his wallet.

“This may seem like a strange question,” Link began, “but may I ask what town this is? I seem to have gotten somewhat… turned around while hunting.”

The boy raised his eyebrow. “Funny you should say that. I’m in a similar situation myself. Then again what other reason is there for arriving at an inn so late at night?”

Link chuckled. “I suppose you’re right.” Both fell silent. A few minutes passed and a slight wind gave Link a chill. He clenched and unclenched his fists and his fingers cried out for relief from the cold.

“Perhaps I will try knocking,” he said at last and got to his feet. He gave three solid raps on the hard wood and paused to listen.

Just as he was going to knock again the door latch clicked and a figure pulled the door open enough to peek through. The other young man got to his feet at the sound. A curly-haired woman holding a lit candle peered through the gap.

“What do you want?” she asked firmly. Obviously this woman was in charge.

“Just lodging, ma’am,” Link replied calmly. Best not to appear suspicious. “There are two of us out here looking for a bed and a warm fire, if they are to be had.”

The woman sighed and opened the door further. Scanning both Link and the young man up and down, she swung the door wide and beckoned them inside. “Come in, come in, jus’ be quick about it. God knows how many more o’ ya will show up ‘tween now an’ sunrise. Every time I open this door it’s another log on the fire and my husband won’t be ‘appy if he ‘as to go cut more before breakfast.”

“More of us?” the young man puzzled. “How do you mean?”

“Oh,” the woman chuckled as she shut the door, “Nothin’ by it young master. There’ve just been a few other travelers arrivin’ tonight after hours. Seems as though that storm yesterday afternoon caught some by surprise and got a fair number o’ people lost.”

“Ah,” Link said. I suppose that’s a lucky coincidence.

The woman led the two of them up to the second floor and down to the end of the hall. “I hope you masters don’t mind sharing a room. We’re hosting a party what got stranded by the storm and so we’re a bit short on space. If it’s any comfort to ya there are two cabinets that lock solid fer any of yer belongings need safekeeping.” She pulled a large key ring out of the pocket of her wool robe and fingered through until she found what she was looking for, poking the key into the lock and giving it a twist. The door swung open to reveal a simple, cozy room with two beds, a hearth, a washbasin, and two large chestnut armoires. “There ought to be firewood, and the bedding is all fresh. Regular pricing is 30 rupees a night wit’ breakfast, but we can discuss tha’ in the mornin’. Would the masters like me to send someone to start the fire?”

“No, thank you ma’am,” the young man replied. “Your hospitality is much appreciated.”

The woman nodded, satisfied. “Well, best of rest to ya. Keys to the room and the cabinets should be on the pillows. If ya need anythin’, housekeepin’ is the door at the top o’ the stairs.”

The woman retreated down the hall, leaving Link and the stranger to settle in. Neither seemed particularly comfortable sharing the space, but both found the alternative – sleeping out front in the cold – undesirable enough that neither mentioned their discomfort. He seems polite enough, Link thought. Still, better lock up my things.

Link took the closer bed and began removing his equipment. The young man set to lighting a fire, giving him the opportunity to stow his more valuable items in secret. Most travelers had wallets, but few had rarities like his magic rod. It was better no one knew he had such an item; locks were only meant to keep honest people honest, as thieves could and would pick locks. A prize like that was one no thief could resist.

He kept a wary eye on his roommate as he too began settling in. When the stranger removed his cloak, Link was tempted to stare. The tunic he boasted was pieced together from four different tunics laced with gold embroidery. Link would have been convinced he was royalty if the four colors weren’t stitched together so haphazardly with thick brown yarn. The boy was also quite spindly. The only thing that told Link they were the same age was the lack of baby fat on his jaw. Something about him seemed familiar, too, but logic kept his curiosity at bay. When the stranger laid a gold-hilted shortsword on the bedspread, Link pretended not to notice. Just another traveler. It isn’t as if my blade is any less impressive.

Link considered locking his blade in his cabinet, but instead propped it against the bed. The silver, ruby-encrusted hilt shimmered in the dim light. If the stranger noticed it, he hadn’t let it show.

Finished settling in and itching for warmth, Link slipped off his boots and crawled into the soft feather bed. Now, with only the crackling fire to break the silence, the strangeness of his situation came to the forefront of his mind. Where exactly was he? How had he gotten here? Most importantly, how was he to get back? Were his friends okay? Was she okay? What of Hyrule? The innkeeper had let them in in the dead of night without a lick of suspicion, so if Hyrule were in crisis, she didn’t seem to know. The frustration of trying to remember what had happened didn’t lend itself to easy sleep, but he was warm. Warm and alive. That would have to do for the night, and he could figure out the rest in the morning.

In the other bed, unbeknownst to Link, the stranger lay plagued by the same questions.

#linkeduniverse #fanfic #the spirit of the hero #love me some canon #all the research #zelda #legend of zelda #fanfiction #fan content

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