It’s mainly Fanfics

“You’re thirty two.”

“So?”

“Isn’t that a little too old to be playing around?”

“Is not.”

“I would also like a swing set.”

“Okay you’re definitely too old.”

“Is there an age limit for such things?”

“I mean… not technically?”

“You’re too old for a swing set if you’re dead in a coffin, how bout that?”

“That makes sense.”

“Sorry?”

“Y’know, girls are witches, boys are wizards, that sort of thing.”

“That’s not-” The headmistress sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose as she muttered something. “Witches and wizards are titles given to those who study completely different branches of magic, not gendered terms for the same thing. Boys can be witches, and girls can be wizards. Besides,” she pushed a sheet of paper across the desk. “You don’t need to choose which branch of magic to specialize in until your sixth year.”

Reign leaned forward, reading the paper but not picking it up just yet. It looked like a normal class schedule. History, math, art, lunch, “We get recess?”.

“Of course, students get a break to have some fun, and they’re more productive because of it.” The old woman pushed another paper towards Reign. “Now this is a list of things you’ll need moving forward, basic necessities and the like. As a ward of the school, your homeroom teacher will take you to get these things.”

“Do I need to put on a magical mind-reading hat to decide where I live now?”

“What? No, we-” She sighed again. “We don’t do that here. You’ll be put into a specific homeroom teacher’s class and, assuming there are no significant problems, will stay with that group for all twelve years of your time with us.”

“Do the classes have cool names?” The headmistress’s smile grew tight.

The second chapter is different. Focusing on a Duchess who doesn’t speak. Her son checks in on her often, but her husband seems to enamored with his mistress to care about the state of his wife. The servants take care of her, but they worry. The duchess has no life to her, no joy in small pleasures. All she does is stare out into nothing. Her mind is elsewhere.

The story continues to switch between the old man and the duchess. Readers may wonder how the two stories will connect. “Perhaps the old man saves the duchess.” One would say. “Maybe it’s the duchess’s husband, attempting to repent for his actions long after she’s gone.” Another would think. No matter what they think, the stories continue.

At some point the old man gains a companion. A young man eager to help but still naive to the ways of the world. Whenever the two stop their travels for the day and make camp, the old man will start telling a story. A story about a woman who trusted and believed in the good of the world unconditionally, until she no longer could.

At some point the duchess begins to speak to her son again. Whenever he visits, she tells him a story about a smart and strong man. A man who was well aware of the world’s evil and cruelty, but continued to do good despite it all.

Both stories continue, but the readers continue to wonder. Is the old man telling the Duchess’s story? Or is the Duchess telling the Old Man’s story?

Perhaps at the end, the author would give them the answers. Or maybe they will leave it for the readers to think about.

Mipha’s side is scarred by the ice, frost burns tracing along her scales. She can’t swim as well as she used to. And for the longest time she can’t help but associate the cold with the pure terror of death.

Daruk has no burn scars. He was born of Death Mountain, the Blight’s fire could not mark him the way it wanted it to. His hands however, bear the signs of his protection shattering over and over again.

Revali lost what he prided himself the most on. Small blast scars dotted along his body, the largest one taking up a large portion of his wing. Feathers would no longer grow in that spot. He tries to ignore how much he misses the sky.

“Why does it matter so much to you?” It tilted its head. “I thought you didn’t care about him anymore?”

“I NEVER CARED! He was nothing to me until he made himself something. A year, one whole entire year of torment from that monster. Nobody helped me, not even when I reached out, they brushed me off or blamed me for what he did to me. I suffered and struggled because of that even when it was over.”

“So then why-?”

“BECAUSE I HATE IT! I HATE HIM!” They scratched at their arm, skin slowly changing from pink to red. “WHY DOES HE GET TO FORGET?! WHY CAN HE MOVE ON FROM EVERYTHING WHEN I’M STILL HAUNTED?! Why can’t he be the one suffering instead?”

It removed their hand from their arm. “I’ve been told it is bad to wish harm unto others.”

“Normally I wouldn’t. But he shattered me, tore me down and made sure that there was only bitterness left.”

“Your friends say you’re still kind. I’ve heard them call you thoughtful and sweet.”

“My friends are the kind ones, I don’t know what they see in me.”

“So you really do dislike that boy?”

“He’s one of the few that makes me blind with rage. Just the memory of what he’s said to me makes me wish I had hit him. That I had dug my nails into his face and dragged till he bled. That I made him regret everything, that I made sure he couldn’t do it to anyone else.” It tilted its head again, quiet. “I hate him.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

It wasn’t your fault.

It was not your fault that boy bullied you. No matter if that school principal said otherwise.

She stood from where she had been knelt in front of the Goddess Statue. Not praying. Asking for a blessing, for help and for the strength to do what she was about to.

The captain had taught her how to fight before he was banished. Impa made sure the Princess could be as stealthy as any Sheika before her death. The way to the dungeon was clear enough, the few guards going down easily. She released everyone. Every last prisoner. They all scattered, all but one.

The thirteen year-old Gerudo boy.

Gannon briefly left her side when they reached the main hall. She paid it no mind. Not with her father nowhere in sight. He was supposed to be there, he always sat at his throne.

But he wasn’t.

Knights were starting to gather, she could hear them outside. They had to leave the castle. There was no more time. Gannon returned, carrying Link in his arms. The seven year-old was covered in more bandages than the last time she saw him. Zelda led her boys out of a secret passage. The three only relaxing once they re-emerged inside the Temple of Time.

Zelda grabbed the Master Sword, and the mark on her hand glowed.

She would fix this rotten kingdom.

She would make things right.

Even if she had to burn it all down and rebuild everything.

She would make her kingdom safe for her boys.

You can only see so much…

You can only do so much…

He’d died so much…

Link quit. If it could even be called that. He put away the master sword, burned that stupid cap, and told the goddess to find another.

(He would sooner join Ganon than help the King that executed him only a few months prior.)

Link decided to be selfish, he always was but- well, now we wouldn’t feel bad about it. He hid away from the large towns, keeping quiet in his own little haven. A small cottage hidden in the mountains with a reasonable garden. There was a small group of monsters lived on the mountain as well. Link traded with them on a regular basis. They received extra produce from his garden, and gave Link good portions on whatever they hunted. (He doesn’t kill anymore, can’t kill anymore.) Every so often he’d travel three days to the closest village. There he could sell the small charms and trinkets he made and get information on what was happening in Hyrule.

Of course he never expected his peace to last for long. He fully knew that one day he’d be called back to do his job.

Maybe the Koroks would ask him to help.

Maybe the Sheika would try to convince him.

Maybe Zelda would hunt him down.

Or perhaps the goddess herself would drag him kicking and screaming to the newest enemy.

He was not expecting the Gerudo man bleeding out on his door step.

“I’m not killing you.”

“I’m not here to ask that of you hero.” The man sighed, wincing when more blood splattered onto the porch. “Sorry, I’ll clean that up…”

“You’re just going spill more, sit down and I’ll patch you up.”

“Out here?”

“I just mopped my floors and would like them to stay clean for at least an hour. Now sit down.”

“Shouldn’t I at least introduce myself?”

“I’ve read enough history books to know what your name might be.” (Link was mostly joking when he said he’d sooner join Ganon than be a hero again, but the man truly looked upset about the mess he’s made on the porch. That and nobody had ever apologized to Link before.) “You’re not allergic to pumpkin are you?”

“No?”

“Good, the pastries should be done in twenty. You’ll have to have a few, when was the last time you ate?” Link liked to think that none of the previous heroes had ever made their foes look quite as confused as he just did. He would have to ask why the Gerudo king sought him out, but the questioning could at least wait until after his guest had been fixed up and fed.

Unfortunately though, it had been a while since his last break. Trying to get to Zelda, to Gannon, was difficult when both the numerous monsters and the maze-like pathways were slowing him down. It had taken Link a whole week to get to the damned sanctum and he was tired.

He hadn’t eaten since that morning, and apples alone could hardly be considered a good and filling breakfast. His joints ached, small pluses of pain dragging his attention to them with every movement. Armor and fabric rubbed uncomfortably against his scars. Worst of all, he hadn’t been able to get any good sleep while inside the castle grounds.

With all of that weighing on the boy, you could hardly blame him for the ferocity of the battle that came afterwards. A hard glare turned towards the thing that was imprisoning both of his friends, and somewhere in Link’s head he thought he should be saying something clever or badass, but all that came out was-

He didn’t know how to run a ranch though… taking care of animals wasn’t something he was good at, not in the way of raising them at least. But- Hyrule was rebuilding itself. Something new being born from the ruins of the past one hundred years. Perhaps Link could do the same.

Lon Lon Inn was built soon afterwards. He could manage the grounds and clean up stray monsters most of the time, and every so often a traveler or two would stay for a night before continuing onto either the Central Lookout or the nearby Stables. Link enjoyed it, he was still helping people, and he could even cook for them! Epona seemed to enjoy their new home as well, so he continued his work.

Soon the Boar’s Forge arrived. Gannon set up his shop by the old tower, repairing tools and weapons brought to him by travelers from the Inn. He said the area was nice and peaceful, plus Link could keep an eye on him in case the Gerudo got possessed again.

Two became Three as the Inn and the Forge were shortly joined by the Hyrule Historic Research Center. Zelda insisted the school in Hateno was stable enough without her assistance and that she wanted to be closer to her two troublemakers. Plus, after their most recent journey, she wanted to make sure no more of their history was lost.

The three of them continued together, watching and working as more joined them. Zelda began teaching the residents about the past and what kind of future she wanted Hyrule to work towards. Gannon complained and insulted his way to training both residents and visitors how to properly fight for both themselves and others.

Link? Link watched with nothing but joy and pride as Lon Lon Village grew and became a place for them all to call home. This wasn’t like Tarry Town, this was his.

He couldn’t help but laugh when Zelda and Gannon proposed at the same time, shyly pulling out rings of his own. Yes, this place had once belonged to his family, and it now belonged to them again.

Gannon didn’t want that. He loved his family, his people, his homeland. They were thriving, despite the tragedies of a century past. His little sister would make a much better ruler than he. Kind and headstrong, she was the one who first approved of his plan in the first place.

He left the desert, planning to travel and learn from the other denizens of Hyrule. Monsters were becoming more common, and people needed to defend themselves. Gannon knew how to make Gerudo weapons, and hopefully, would soon know how to make good tools for the other tribes as well. If not, well, jewelry always sold for a good price.

He was not expecting to meet a wolf more friendly and intelligent than the wild coyotes in his homeland, nor was he expecting to be lead by said wolf up a secret passageway to the top of the Great Plateau. The wolf continued to lead him forward, stopping just outside of a cave hidden close to the ruins of what could only be described as a temple.

The Gerudo knew as soon as he stepped foot inside of the cave that his life would be forever changed.

A body of a hylian laid on a stone altar in the center of the cave he had entered. Long, fluffy white hair framing a face with strange purple markings under their eyes and upon their forehead. The body’s clothes were ragged, worn away by time. There was no clue to how long they’d been there, but something told Gannon that it had been many years. A strangely shaped stone rested over the body’s heart, and despite every thought and notion that Gannon had, that he needed to leave, he was intruding on someone’s resting place, he should leave the body alone-

His hand reached out, fingers grazing the stone.

Sparks danced across both Gannon’s hand and his vision, the stone lighting up a deep blue color as flecks of teal swirled inside. The man could only jerk away as the light became blinding, before dimming back into soft glow.

The body’s hands twitched before blue eyes met Gannon’s own, and the mysterious hylian took in what must’ve been their first breath in years.

Gannon couldn’t help but think of the stories the girls back home would tell about meeting their husbands for the first time.

They say the Devil will knocking at my door

Maybe I’ll let him in, Why’d you make me wait?

“Yuuji is on his period.”

“Ah.” He looked back from Nobara to where Sukuna was on the bed. Folded into himself, the curse let out some colorful words before attempting to throw something at the girl.

“I hate this, I hate every last one of you.” Megumi left the room before he could hear Kugisaki’s response. Something about karma?

When he returned, the situation had calmed some. Nobara was now watching something on her phone while Sukuna flinched and growled behind her. “Here.” Walking forward, he pushed the heated pad onto where he knew most of the pain would be coming from. (He grew up with a sister, periods aren’t news to him) “That should help.”

“What the fuck?” Red eyes widened slightly, “How the fuck is that already helping?” There was a snicker from Kugisaki.

“Heat relaxes the muscles, making the cramps less painful.”

“I’m not stupid.”

“I never said you were.” She tilted her head slightly, smugly starting down the powerful curse that would kill her any other time.

“Break it up you two.” Megumi sighed. He knew why Yuuji would switch with Sukuna, but he wished that the other boy would’ve stayed just so that he wouldn’t have to listen to the other two argue all day. “Eat the breakfast bar, take the painkillers, and for the love of god let Yuuji be in control by the time I come back.” He left again.

It’s like he’s trying to protect his soul.

No, that was impossible. Not only were humans unaware of their souls in the first place, but the know the exact location?

Maybe it’s instinctual?

No. He spared a quick glance towards the other sorcerer. Mr 7-3 doesn’t do it. Maybe… He twisted under another punch from the kid before kicking out towards the brat’s stomach.

Time seemed to slow as he watched his foot get closer to his target, and once again, pinky moved as if he was going to block before his arms once again went to protect his chest.

Everything sped up again once his hit connected. The brat stumbling backwards while complaining about how he thought he blocked it.

It’s not instinct moving him, but it is an unconscious action. One he’s not aware of.

Mahito darted forward and lightly brushed the skin of the kid’s hand, allowing him to see his soul.

Well isn’t that interesting? The others will be pleased with this.

———————————————————————

Once he had managed to reunite with the other curses, Mahito unveiled his discovery. “It makes sense now that I think about it. That kid was protecting his soul because that’s what he’s supposed to do.”

“WILL YOU EXPLAIN WHATS GOING ON ALREADY?!”

“Jogo.” Their leader cut off the volcano curse. “Mahito, could you explain what you mean?”

A smirk found it’s way onto his face. “That Itadori Yuuji kid… he has two souls.” He paused for a moment to let his comrades take that in. “They look quite different too. See, souls usually look like rocks or uncut gemstones. But Itadori’s was round and smooth, plus it was slightly see through. His soul formed around the second soul inside him.”

“And you mention this second soul to us because?”

“Relax I was getting to that part… anyway- didn’t you ever think it was strange that we couldn’t bring back the King? It makes sense now. His soul wasn’t left behind in his body, or scattered along with his fingers-”

“You’re saying that-!”

“Yep. Itadori Yuuji. His soul formed around the King’s soul. Like I said earlier, his very purpose is to protect his soul. The King’s soul. That’s why we couldn’t find it.”

Their leader smiled and laughed. “We’re lucky we figured this out before the sorcerers! If they knew, they’d kill him and then we’d have to start all over again.”

“There’s the possibility that we wouldn’t find it again either. If Itadori Yuuji dies, King’s soul may find a new host or disappear. There’s no telling what would happen.”

“So we all agree on the new plan then?”

A gargantuan Sakura tree stood proud several feet in front of him. It’s branched stretching out and creating the ceiling of the domain and tinting everything a pretty pink hue. Below, Sukuna stood in ankle-deep water, millions of strange golden orbs moving to avoid the boy’s path. It was pretty, in its own way. Almost calming. “Sukuna?” Ah, there he was. Dressed in his usual black kimono and wearing an unusual look of surprise on his face.

“Where the fuck were you old man?” Yuuji scowled at the obvious insult to his age.

“None of your business brat. Now, what are you doing here?” Now it was Sukuna’s turn to be surprised.

“You didn’t bring me here?”

“No.”

“Then how the fuck did I get here?”

The two stared at each other for a moment, contemplating.

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter how you got here just get out. I’m too tired to deal with your ass right now.” Yuuji raised a fist coated in cursed energy, ready to knock the teen out of his domain and back into the waking world.

“Wait!” Sukuna internally cursed at the slight panic in his voice. “I can leave myself! Fuckin’ hell!” And with that he was gone. The King of Curses sighed at his vessel’s panicked exit, letting his hand drop back to his side as he stared at where the boy once stood.

He knew- knew that the elders didn’t tell Okkotsu-senpai the truth. Not about anything that happened in Shibuya, and certainly not about Yuuji. He had wanted to try to talk to his senpai, explain the truth about everything they’ve gone through. But then he saw Yuuji get sent flying.

Yuuji, who probably wasn’t even fully healed from Shibuya ‘cause he was a fucking idiot.

Yuuji, who was bleeding and struggling to get up because of his senpai’s attack.

Sweet, kind Yuuji, who just wanted to help people.

Megumi saw red.

Before he even knew he was moving again, Megumi was standing between Yuuji and Okkotsu, shikigami out and ready to attack. His senpai had stopped immediately upon seeing him, but Megumi ignored anything he might have said in favor of checking out Yuuji. The pink-haired boy was bleeding and barely hanging onto consciousness. “Me-gumi?” Oh Yuuji, sounding so confused when he should have known Fushiguro wouldn’t let him die again. Okkotsu’s voice suddenly cut through Megumi’s focus and the red clouding his vision came back full force.