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[keysmashtitles]

The Touwa Children

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 1,625

TW: Mentioned parental death (if i missed anything, let me know and i’ll tag it!)

Ishimaru Kiyotaka was a banker in the banking district of the city. He was someone the Touwa children vaguely knew because he was an acquaintance of their parents. He was also someone they were not expecting to see on a dismal day like today, much less on a beach as grey and lifeless as the one they currently stood on.

“Hello, children,” Mr. Ishimaru started, keeping a reasonable distance from them.

The Touwa children consisted of three, two teenagers and their toddler-aged sister. Touwa Miu was both the eldest and the tallest of her siblings, and oftentimes she could be found tinkering with some invention of a sort. Not one inch of the Touwa home lacked one of Miu’s inventions, from the bell that dinged every time the family received mail to the simple pulley system that extended up through the central staircase.

The next of the Touwa children was Touwa Shuichi, middle in both age and height. Whilst his elder sister contented herself with tinkering and handiwork, Shuichi preferred to spend his time reading all that the home library offered to him. It was one of those very books, about the importance of foreshadowing in a story, that his face was buried in when Mr. Ishimaru arrived at the beach.

That left Touwa Monaka, who was much too young and much too short to do much else than sit in the sand and play with it. That did not detract, however, from the fact that one of Monaka’s favorite pastimes at home was biting whatever she could get her teeth on. Only Miu’s inventions and Shuichi’s current book of choice ever escaped her mouth’s wrath.

Miu and Shuichi shared a hesitant glance, Monaka opting to smile up at Mr. Ishimaru from her seated spot in the sand.

“Hello, Mr. Ishimaru,” Shuichi said amicably. “What brings you to the beach today?”

“Well,” Mr. Ishimaru said, then coughed, because Mr. Ishimaru had always been a bit of a sickly man and therefore always had a slight cough, “I’m afraid I’ve come bearing news of an extremely unfortunate event.”

“Horrible news?” Miu echoed. She stooped slightly, swept Monaka up into her arms and onto her hip. “What sort of horrible news?”

“Your parents,” cough, “have perished in a terrible fire,” another cough.

None of the three Touwa children said anything for a long moment.

“Pardon?” Shuichi asked.

“Perished,” Mr. Ishimaru restated. Then coughed. “It means—”

Miu cut in, “We know what perished means.”

“So you do,” Mr. Ishimaru said, “so you do. You were always bright children.”

Monaka hummed a note of disapproval, turning her head to peer backwards over Miu’s shoulder. The next few minutes of the Touwa children’s lives were spent in numbness. In the backseat of Mr. Ishimaru’s car they sat, Miu then Monaka then Shuichi, as they waited the short car trip that would take them to the charred remains of their home. The home itself was hardly that, with ash and charred remains of furniture, knick-knacks, and what was once the rest of their wardrobe littering the floor. Only scant few remains of the home’s supporting beams remained, and it was over one of these fallen beams Miu stepped, once more carrying Monaka on her hip.

“Everything’s gone,” Miu murmured. “My inventions, the library…”

“Mother and father,” Shuichi whispered.

Monaka reached out toward something that looked as though it survived the fire, and yet that, too, crumbled to dust in her grasp. The Touwa children stood together, surrounded by debris and firefighters and the remains of their childhood, until Mr. Ishimaru came up to stand beside them, signalled by a hearty cough from the adult.

“Unfortunately, we don’t have time to dawdle,” Mr. Ishimaru said. “Ah, dawdle means—”

“We know what dawdle means,” Shuichi said this time.

“Of course you do, of course you do,” Mr. Ishimaru said, coughed once more.

“Why don’t we have time?” Miu asked.

Mr. Ishimaru coughed for what had to have been more than a minute before continuing. “Your parents entrusted to me your continued safety, and as such, I am to take you to your closest relative.”

Miu and Shuichi shared another glance.

“We don’t have any close relatives,” Shuichi told Mr. Ishimaru.

“Well, yes, of course you do,” Mr. Ishimaru said with a wave of his handkerchief. He brought the three children together in a smaller huddle, ushered them back toward the home’s front door. “A Count Monokuma.”

Monaka tilted her head at this, moving her lips as if to test the word on her tongue even though no actual words were spoken. Miu shifted her higher on her hip. Shuichi pulled the brim of his hat, a gift from their father on one of his travels, down over his eyes.

Miu said, as Mr. Ishimaru opened the back door of his car and Shuichi slid inside to the far left side, “We don’t know a Count Monokuma, Mr. Ishimaru.”

“No, no, I doubt you do,” Mr. Ishimaru said, coughed. “I hardly know a thing about the man himself.” With Miu and Monaka seated beside their brother, Mr. Ishimaru sat himself behind the wheel and started driving. “I do know, though, that he lives within this city. Just 37 blocks away from your home.”

“I… don’t think that’s what closest relative is supposed to mean,” Shuichi murmured quietly. Miu reached across Monaka’s lap and squeezed his hand.

The rest of the drive was spent in silence, much like the drive from the beach to the Touwa home. Every so often, Mr. Ishimaru would cough again, and even rarer, his bouts of coughing would be so intense his face turned a startling shade of red in the rearview mirror. The children filtered the byproducts of his weak immune system out of their consciousness as they waited to arrive at Count Monokuma’s home. They found it odd that their parents had never mentioned him at all, not even in passing, and they found it odder still that Count Monokuma had never been to visit them, even though he reportedly lived within the same city.

“Have you ever heard of Count Monokuma before?” Miu asked Shuichi in hushed tones.

“No,” Shuichi said, touching the brim of his hat as he did. “You?”

“Not me either,” Miu replied.

Between them, Monaka shook her head and leaned into Miu’s side.

“Maybe he’s just a recluse,” Shuichi ventured to say. “Or maybe he was disowned by our parents.”

Miu frowned. “If he was disowned, why would our parents leave us in his custody in the event of their deaths?”

“I don’t know,” Shuichi sighed.

The car came to a stop then, jolting the children from their conversation. Mr. Ishimaru put the car in park, turned the keys back in the ignition, and turned in his seat to address the children. He coughed into his handkerchief again, his face turning that startling shade of red in the process.

“We’ve arrived at Count Monokuma’s house,” Mr. Ishimaru said after minutes of coughing. “I believe he should be home at present, but if not, we will go to the bank until he returns.”

So, slowly, the Touwa children stepped out of Mr. Ishimaru’s car, Miu then Monaka then Shuichi, and followed him to Count Monokuma’s front door. Mr. Ishimaru raised his hand to knock, but before he could even form a fist, the door flew open, revealing to them perhaps the oddest man the children had ever seen in their lives. Easily towering over Miu and built like one would expect a teddy bear to be, Count Monokuma smiled down at the children with a smile no short of leering. While her siblings were concerned with Count Monokuma’s face, as it really was quite close to theirs, Monaka found herself intrigued by the tattoo on his exposed ankle that appeared to resemble some sort of jagged swoosh.

“Oh, chiiiiiiiiiiildren,” Count Monokuma trilled before stepping out of the doorway, “how lovely it is to finally meet you. Come in, come in!”

Miu stepped forward first, picking Monaka up as she did so that her sister would not trip over the threshold. Shuichi followed close behind, and Mr. Ishimaru remained on the front stoop, coughing into his sleeve.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Shuichi said.

“How polite you are…” Count Monokuma made a poor attempt at disguising the fact he was peering at his hands to read something. “Shuichi!” He picked Shuichi’s hat off his head, ruffled his hair before quite literally slapping it back down on his head. He turned to Miu next, cupping her face with both of his hands. “And you must be Miu.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Miu told him around the hands squishing her cheeks together in a way not painless.

Count Monokuma, thankfully, stepped back, and his gaze dropped to Monaka. He frowned. “And what is… this?”

Miu’s free hand came up to rest against Monaka’s back. Shuichi said, “That’s Monaka. She’s our sister.”

“Yes…” Count Monokuma said, raking his teeth together. “Well!” He placed his heavy hands on Miu and Shuichi’s shoulders, spinning them around to face Mr. Ishimaru. “I’m certain that I will be able to make these orphans feel… loved and wanted.”

Mr. Ishimaru frowned in confusion, then said, “Thank you, Count Monokuma.” To the children, “Remember, children, if you ever need anything,” the door started closing, and Mr. Ishimaru leaned around it to continue addressing them, “you can always call me at the bank!”

The door slammed shut, the noise reverberating around Count Monokuma’s desolate home. The Touwa children turned around once more to face their new guardian.

“Welcome to your new home, children,” Count Monokuma told them, smiling that leering smile again.

In that moment, the Touwa children felt anything but welcome.

[keysmashtitles]

Phantoms

Hey guys, long time no write!

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 1,492

TW: Mentions of Hospitals and Past Injuries (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

NOTE: I am neither a prosthesis user nor an amputee, so if something I wrote here is offensive or harmful, please let me know! My intention was not to write something harmful, so I would love to learn what my potential mistakes are so I can fix them.

Normally, Kaede wouldn’t ever think to enter her friend’s talent lab without their permission, but, well, nobody had seen Chabashira in a while, and as the class representative, she had a responsibility to ensure her classmates were okay. So, cautiously, because she isn’t sure if Chabashira is in the middle of practicing their neo-aikido or not, Kaede cracks open the door to their lab. Except, rather than finding them practicing, they’re laying on their back on the tatami mats, and their arm is laying next to them. For a brief and horrifying second, Kaede forgets Chabashira has a prosthesis and is more than prepared to run and find Tsumiki.

“Chabashira-san?” Kaede asks, and she completely steps into the lab.

Chabashira sits up quickly. “Oh, Akamatsu-san! Tenko didn’t hear you come in.”

“Ah, yeah, I didn’t want to say anything in case you were practicing or something…” Kaede trails off, then says, “Speaking of which, uh… What are you doing?”

“Oh, Tenko was just…” They busy themself with fitting their prosthesis back on. “They were just taking a break! It’s important to rest the mind and body every so often while doing physical activities!”

Kaede doesn’t bring up how none of Chabashira’s usual practicing materials are out. She also doesn’t bring up how she can’t see any water bottles anywhere. Unless, of course, Chabashira’s practice didn’t require any physical materials, but… Something about the situation doesn’t sit right with Kaede. She toes off her shoes and joins Chabashira on the mats.

“How is practice going?” Kaede ventures to ask.

“Practice is…” Chabashira hasn’t stopped looking at their prosthesis. “Tenko thinks it’s going well.”

“Hm…” Normally, Kaede wouldn’t be one to pry when it appears nothing’s wrong, but she decides, in this instance, it can’t hurt. “I hope you don’t mind my asking, Chabashira-san, but how are you feeling?”

“Huh?” Chabashira finally looks up at Kaede. “Tenko is fine, but thank you for your concern, Akamatsu-san!”

Kaede resists the urge to frown at the slight tick in Chabashira’s features as they lean back on their hands. She can’t help but draw her eyebrows together at how Chabashira is intentionally not putting much of their weight on their prosthesis. Kaede’s able to put two and two together, despite Chabashira’s attempts to play it off, and she sighs.

“Chabashira-san, does your arm hurt?” Kaede asks.

Chabashira blinks at her in surprise. “W-Well…” They sigh, then lean forward once more. “Tenko should have known they wouldn’t be able to hide anything from you, Akamatsu-san. You’re too smart for Tenko’s lies.”

Kaede does frown now. “Chabashira-san…”

“Tenko promises they’re fine, though!” they say. “It’s just a little bit of phantom pain! Nothing Tenko can’t handle!”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it alone, Chabashira-san,” Kaede says.

“Well, that’s probably true…” Chabashira murmurs. “Tenko just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Phantom pains aren’t uncommon for them.”

Kaede hums. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Tenko can’t take any more pain meds for the next three hours,” they say in what Kaede recognizes is them thinking out loud. “An ice pack, probably? Tenko thinks putting one against their stump would probably numb everything a little bit.”

“Then an ice pack it is!” Kaede stands and offers a hand out to Chabashira, saying, “We’ll just swing by the kitchen and find something for you there!” She pauses as Chabashira is pulling themself to stand. “Unless you’d rather not go there, in which case I’ll bring it back here!”

“Akamatsu-san is so considerate!” Chabashira says, burying their face in their hands. “Tenko is fine going to the kitchen, but they really appreciate that you asked!”

“Of course!” Kaede says, and she leads the way to the talent lab’s door. “I wouldn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, after all.”

Chabashira’s reply to that is incoherent, and the two of them walk the short distance from their lab to the kitchen. Kaede hangs back as Chabashira searches the freezer for a suitable ice pack; the one they retrieve is full of cool gel that makes it moldable.

“Akamatsu-san,” Chabashira starts, closing the freezer with their foot, “would you mind holding this while Tenko takes their arm off?”

“In here?” Kaede asks, almost dumbstruck, but she takes the ice pack all the same.

“Tenko knows that their prosthesis and stump freak some people out, so they decided to stay in the kitchen where less people are likely to see them,” they explain as they take the prosthesis and sock off, then set both on the counter.

Kaede hands the ice pack over as she says, “That doesn’t bother you at all?”

Chabashira shrugs. “It bothered Tenko at the beginning of the year, but,” they place the ice pack against their stump, and they visibly relax into it, “not anymore.”

“Huh…” You learn something new everyday, as the saying goes. Kaede gestures to Chabashira’s stump. “Is the ice pack helping?”

“Eh, kind of,” Chabashira says. “It’ll probably start to feel better the longer Tenko holds it in place.”

“That’s great!” Kaede says, and they lapse into silence. Every so often she sneaks a glance at Chabashira, where she finds them drawing their features in in their own way of showing pain.

Maybe there’s some way I can distract them? Kaede wonders, so she says the first thing that comes to mind, “So, Chabashira-san, I don’t know as if you ever told me how you lost your arm,” which is a little white lie, because there’s not a member of their class who hasn’t heard the story at least twice.

Chabashira perks up. “Well, Tenko’s story isn’t as dramatic or anything as Komaeda-senpai’s, but they hope it’s entertaining anyway!”

Kaede thinks, Is this really something I should find entertaining, Chabashira-san?

“So,” Chabashira says, pulling Kaede from her thoughts, “it happened about three years ago, before Tenko got scouted as the Ultimate Aikido Master. Tenko and their master were out at night looking for horrible boys that were bothering poor defenseless girls!” Kaede nods, so Chabashira continues, “Of course, we found a girl in need of defending pretty quickly. Tenko ran ahead of their master, but the horrible boy started to run away!

“So, naturally, Tenko gave chase! The horrible boy had a head start, but Tenko wasn’t going to give up. They rounded a corner the horrible boy ran around, but they couldn’t find him. Then, suddenly,” Chabashira points upwards at nothing with their stump, “WHAM! The horrible boy had attacked Tenko from above, throwing something heavy at them that,” Chabashira’s gaze slides from Kaede to their stump, and they draw their eyebrows in, “crushed… their…” Chabashira brings their stump down and against their chest, “arm.”

Concerned, Kaede asks, “Chabashira-san? Are you okay?”

“Tenko…” Chabashira puts the ice pack back on their stump, wincing slightly at the sudden cold pressed against their chest. “Tenko doesn’t really like to think about it.” As if sensing the apology Kaede’s about to give, they say, “B-But it’s not your fault, Akamatsu-san, Tenko promises!”

“Bad memories?” Kaede guesses.

Chabashira nods. “Tenko’s arm was pinned between that object and the ground for… a very long time.” They look over at their prosthesis. “Tenko remembers calling for help because it hurt a lot, but… the next thing they remember after that is waking up in the hospital missing an arm.”

Kaede thinks an apology isn’t what Chabashira wants to hear, so she says, “That must have been difficult.”

“It was,” Chabashira admits. “Tenko was very angry with both themself and their master for a long time. Somehow, they never imagined they could get hurt doing what they did.” Chabashira shrugs again. “But that’s becoming the past now. Tenko’s getting better everyday.”

Kaede raises an eyebrow as Chabashira pulls the ice pack away again. “Are you feeling better?”

“Hm…” Chabashira flexes their arm at the elbow, examining their stump. “It still hurts a little bit, but it feels a lot better now than it did before.”

“That’s good to hear!” Kaede says. She puts the ice pack back as Chabashira puts their sock and prosthesis back on. “Actually… thank you, Chabashira-san.”

“Huh?” Chabashira asks. “Why is Akamatsu-san thanking Tenko? Tenko should be thanking you! If it weren’t for you, Tenko would still be lying on the floor of their talent lab trying to ignore their pain.”

“I mean like…” Kaede tilts her head to the side as she thinks of how to word it. “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell more than the usual story about your arm. I’m glad I’m able to be a safe space for you to voice your feelings.”

“O-Oh, w-well—!” All at once, Chabashira’s face flares up red. “Tenko j-just thought, b-b-because you’re so nice t-to them…”

“Aw, it’s okay, Chabashira-san,” Kaede says. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re flustered!”

“T-Tenko takes it b-back! Akamatsu-san is m-mean to them!”

In response to that, Kaede can only laugh and smile.

[keysmashtitles]

Resources For Writing Deaf, Mute, or Blind Characters

Despite the fact that I am not deaf, mute, or blind myself, one of the most common questions I receive is how to portray characters with these disabilities in fiction.

As such, I’ve compiled the resources I’ve accumulated (from real life deaf, mute, or blind people) into a handy masterlist.

Deaf Characters:

Deaf characters masterpost

Deaf dialogue thread

Dialogue with signing characters (also applies to mute characters.)

A deaf author’s advice on deaf characters

Dialogue between deaf characters

Mute Characters

Life as a Mute

My Silent Summer:  Life as a Mute

What It’s Like Being Mute

21 People Reveal What It’s Really Like To Be Mute

I am a 20 year old Mute, ask me anything at all!

Blind Characters:

The 33 Worst Mistakes Writers Make About Blind Characters.

@referenceforwriters masterpost of resources for writing/playing blind characters.

The youtube channel of the wonderful Tommy Edison, a man blind from birth with great insight into the depiction of blind people and their lives.

An Absolute Write thread on the depiction of blind characters, with lots of different viewpoints and some great tips.

And finally, this short, handy masterpost of resources for writing blind characters.

Characters Who Are Blind in One Eye

4 Ways Life Looks Shockingly Different With One Eye

Learning to Live With One Eye

Adapting to the Loss of an Eye

Adapting to Eye Loss and Monocular Vision

Monocular Depth Perception

Deaf-Blind Characters

What Is It Like To Be Deafblind?

Going Deaf and Blind in a City of Noise and Lights

Deaf and Blind by 30

Sarita is Blind, Deaf, and Employed (video)

Born Deaf and Blind, This Eritrean American Graduated Harvard Law School (video)

A Day of a Deaf Blind Person

Lesser Known Things About Being Deafblind

How the Deaf-Blind Communicate

Early Interactions With Children Who Are Deaf-Blind

Raising a DeafBlind Baby

If you have any more resources to add, let me know!  I’ll be adding to this post as I find more resources.

I hope this helps, and happy writing!  <3

[keysmashtitles]

What's going on with Ao3?

essentially, in their tos, ao3 does not ban real person porn, even if that porn is written about a minor. as i myself am a minor, i find this intensely uncomfortable and won’t be using the platform much, if at all, until further notice

[keysmashtitles]

Writing advice from my uni teachers:

If your dialog feels flat, rewrite the scene pretending the characters cannot at any cost say exactly what they mean. No one says “I’m mad” but they can say it in 100 other ways.

Wrote a chapter but you dislike it? Rewrite it again from memory. That way you’re only remembering the main parts and can fill in extra details. My teacher who was a playwright literally writes every single script twice because of this.

Don’t overuse metaphors, or they lose their potency. Limit yourself.

Before you write your novel, write a page of anything from your characters POV so you can get their voice right. Do this for every main character introduced.

[keysmashtitles]

ok so considering the hot garbage fire that ao3 is right now, i’ve decided to. literally post all of my fics to a google site. i’m still missing a few from the transfer, but most of them are there

[keysmashtitles]

You’re welcome

[keysmashtitles]

In case you writers ever wondered. Made by Carrie Patrick on Facebook.

[keysmashtitles]

When you are writing a story and refer to a character by a physical trait, occupation, age, or any other attribute, rather than that character’s name, you are bringing the reader’s attention to that particular attribute. That can be used quite effectively to help your reader to focus on key details with just a few words. However, if the fact that the character is “the blond,” “the magician,” “the older woman,” etc. is not relevant to that moment in the story, this will only distract the reader from the purpose of the scene. 

If your only reason for referring to a character this way is to avoid using his or her name or a pronoun too much, don’t do it. You’re fixing a problem that actually isn’t one. Just go ahead and use the name or pronoun again. It’ll be good.

[keysmashtitles]

Whumptober Masterpost

we did it all! after 31 days of writing, i’ve filled every theme on the whumptober 2020 list! without further ado, here’s everything i wrote!

all links lead to their ao3 listing

tws to look out for: death, child abuse, human experimentation, hospitalization, kidnapping

day 1: let’s hang out sometime

day 2: in the hands of the enemy

day 3: my way or the highway

day 4: running out of time

day 5: where do you think you’re going?

day 6: please....

day 7: i’ve got you

day 8: where did everybody go?

day 9: for the greater good

day 10: they look so pretty when they bleed

day 11: psych 101

day 12: i think i’ve broken something

day 13: breathe in breathe out

day 14: is something burning?

day 15: into the unknown

day 16: a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

day 17: i did not see that coming

day 18: panic! at the disco

day 19: broken hearts

day 20: toto, i have a feeling we’re not in kansas anymore

day 21: i don’t feel so well

day 22: do these tacos taste funny to you?

day 23: what’s a whumpee gotta do to get some sleep around here?

day 24: you’re not making any sense

day 25: i think i’ll just collapse right here, thanks

day 26: if you thought the head trauma was bad...

day 27: ok, who had natural disasters on their 2020 bingo card?

day 28: such wow. many normal. very oops.

day 29: i think i need a doctor

day 30: now where did that come from?

day 31: today’s special: torture

[keysmashtitles]

Experimental Vision

Written for Whumptober Day 31

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 547

TW: Needles, Injections, Human Experiments (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

Needles fill up most of her day.

She can’t remember a point in her life when there weren’t needles. Her entire existence has revolved around needles, injections, those weird pulse sensors that get attached all over her body, and being observed. Sometimes it’s not just observations, and those hurt.

“Okay, F-01,” one of the doctors says, and she turns her head in their general direction. “We’re going to give you an injection.”

“What is it going to do?” she asks even though she knows she’s not supposed to.

The doctor hums in disapproval, and she shrinks in on herself. “If it works,” they begin, “you shouldn’t be able to see F-04 and F-05 anymore.”

Her heart rate jumps. Not see F-04 and F-05? She couldn’t… she couldn’t let that happen. Her world is already so limited, so to have them taken from it… F-01 leans away when the doctor comes at her with the syringe.

“No! I won’t let you!” she exclaims.

“Don’t be like that. Just sit still and let me—“

She swats the syringe away, listens to it clatter against the floor. In the ensuing shock, F-01 stands from the exam table, rushes for the door. It’s locked, frustratingly so, and the feeling of invisible hands seizing her arms and dragging her backwards interrupts her attempt to run away.

“No! No no no I won’t let you take them!” she yells. She thrashes in their grip, but they don’t relent. “I won’t let you! Let me go!”

“Strap her down!” the doctor with the syringe says over her yelling.

The straps are rough and made of leather, and they wrap around her head, arms, legs, pinning her in place so she can’t fight back. That doesn’t stop her from fighting, though, and when the doctor jams the needle into her arm, she screams.

“I’ll fight it!” F-01 exclaims, near delirious in her panic. “I’ll fight your injection! It won’t work! It won’t work!”

“Put her in the observation chamber.” After a pause, they add, “And bring F-04 and F-05 to the chamber as well.”

She fights the doctors as they manhandle her down the hallway, but they’re all bigger, maybe, but definitely stronger, and her attempts are futile. They shove her into a room with no windows and bright fluorescent lighting overhead. They lock her in.

“It’ll never work!” F-01 yells. “You’ve failed before and you’ll fail again!”

The pulse sensors still stuck to her send a large shock through her body, and she falls to her knees. She’s quick to pull them off, flinching slightly from the pull of adhesive on skin, and throws them across the room. F-01 curls into herself, shuts her eyes. The door opens a few minutes later, but she doesn’t look up.

“F-01?” a small voice, definitely F-04, asks her.

She’s scared to open her eyes, but she knows she’ll have to. Slowly, slowly, F-01 raises her head. And she sees them. The laugh that escapes her mouth is shocked, relieved, a great many things.

“It didn’t work,” she laughs.

“What didn’t work?” F-05 asks.

But F-01 shakes her head, pulls them into a hug. “It didn’t work!” Her laughter has turned into sobbing. “It didn’t work!”

Lana, standing in the viewing room, can’t help but sigh in relief.

[keysmashtitles]

A New Place, a Temple

Written for Whumptober Day 30

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 743

TW: Broken Bones, Arguing, Swearing (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

The adrenaline making Dahlia’s heart beat loudly in her ears allows her to sprint down the sidewalk, watching Iris from the corner of her eye to make sure her sister doesn’t fall to the ground.

“Mystic Mia told us to run, but she never told us where to run,” Dahlia says.

“Dahlia…” Iris says.

“I think there’s a branch family member that lives up in that old temple. Hazakura Temple, I think?” Dahlia tugs Iris behind a tree when she sees headlights on the road.

“Dahlia…!” Iris tries again.

“We could probably make it there on foot. I think I remember the way…”

“Dahlia!” Iris exclaims. She stops abruptly, pulling Dahlia’s attention back to her.

“What?” Dahlia asks too quickly, too on edge for someone her age. “Is she following us? Are you hurt?”

“Am I hurt?” Iris asks. “What about you! Your wing is—“

“My wing?” Dahlia looks at them, pales when she sees the left is hanging limply off her back. “Oh, shit.”

“Oh shit? That’s all you have to say?!” Iris gestures to it. “It’s broken!”

“It doesn’t matter! It’s not like we can use them anyway!”

“We might be able to now that we’ve left!”

“And I almost died trying to leave, so isn’t the fact that we both made it out enough for you?!”

They both stop dead, one staring in horror and the other looking away.

“Dahlia, I’m so—“

“It’s fine. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” She takes a deep breath. “I’ll… have the branch family member set my wing when we get to Hazakura Temple. Is that okay?”

Iris sighs. “Yes. But I’m going to hold you to that.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

“Of course.” Iris loops her arm through Dahlia’s. “So, where are we going?”

“I think…” Dahlia looks out at the streets and signs for a moment. “A right at this corner up here.”

“Well then, lead the way.”

— — —

They stumble up to the main gate of Hazakura Temple just as the sun is rising over the distant horizon, utterly exhausted and clinging to each other for support. Dahlia makes the mistake of leaning against the gate, as she slides down to the ground, closes her eyes.

“No, no, Dahlia, get up,” Iris pleads.

“I just need a minute. I’m so tired,” Dahlia murmurs.

“You can rest when we get to the temple!” Iris grabs her sister’s forearm, pulling her up. “Come on, we’re so close!”

“My wing hurts,” Dahlia says, “like a thousand needles on fire are stabbing me.”

“I know, I know.” Iris looks around, searching for that branch family member. “Hello?” she calls out. “Is anyone here?”

“Oh, hello, you two!” a nun replies. She descends from the top of the nearby bell, her own wings a beautiful ripple of deep purples and pinks. “Are you here to— Oh my! You’re members of the branch family!”

“Uh, yes, we are!” Iris says. “I’m assuming you are as well?”

“Very proud to say I am!” The nun laughs. “My name is Sister Bikini.”

“I’m Dahlia,” Dahlia pipes in, “and this is Iris.”

“What brings you two here? Aren’t you supposed to be in Kurain?” Bikini asks.

“That’s—“ Dahlia sucks in a sharp gasp as a shooting pain runs through her body.

“We had to leave. It… wasn’t safe there anymore,” Iris supplies.

“Not safe…?” Bikini examines them, at the way Dahlia is leaning so heavily into Iris’ side. “Dahlia, dear, are you okay?”

“My wing is—“ Her fingers dig into Iris’ shoulder. “The adrenaline is gone, I’m feeling all that pain now.”

“Your wing? What’s—“

“She broke it.” Iris gently, ever so gently, pulls it out to the side.

“Oh my!” Bikini steps forward, fussing and fretting and seeing how bad the damage is. “Don’t you worry, I can fix this for you. Come, follow me.”

Iris loops an arm around Dahlia’s waist, as her twin is struggling to walk when the pain is making her legs weak, and supports her as they follow Bikini toward the temple.

“Tell me, how did a break like that happen?” Bikini asks.

“It’s…” Iris’ eyes dart from Bikini to Dahlia and back. “It’s a long story. We can tell it later.”

“Hm, very well.” Bikini looks at them, and she smiles, and it’s so assuring and motherly that Iris almost breaks down into tears. “However it occurred, I want you to know you’ll be safe here.” She looks away, sadder, “You’ll be safe.”

[keysmashtitles]

The Repercussions of Lab Safety

Written for Whumptober Day 29

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 560

TW: Injuries, Hospitalization, Intubation (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

“Move!” the surgeon shouts, running with the gurney.

“What’ve we got?”

“Twenty-seven female, she got caught in a lab explosion.”

“Get her to Trauma Two.”

Ema’s vision would be swimming, if she was conscious. She’d also feel burning pain, soreness, so many things to indicate she’s hurt in some way or another. But she’s unconscious, strapped to a gurney, and fighting like Hell to keep her life.

“These burns look bad…” a different surgeon says, poking and prodding at her exposed skin to assess the damage. “Someone book an O.R. We’re going to need it.”

An intern steps away to make the call. A surgeon leans in close to Ema’s face.

“You’re going to be okay,” the surgeon tells her. “We’re going to save you.”

— — —

“Ema!” Apollo shouts when he rushes into the hospital.

“Sir, we’re going to have to ask you to keep your voice down so you don’t disturb the other patients,” the nurse at reception tells him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry…” Apollo says sheepishly. “Uh! I’m looking for my friend! She should’ve come in a while ago. She was in a lab explosion. Ema Skye?”

The nurse turns away to look at her computer monitor. Apollo stands with his hands gripping the counter, knuckles white with the strain, quickly tapping his foot in an effort to keep himself calm.

“Okay, sir,” the nurse says, once again looking at him. “Ms. Skye is upstairs in room 1211.”

“Thank you so much!” Apollo exclaims. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course, sir.”

Apollo is only a little embarrassed to say that he jogs down the hallway to the elevator, impatiently waits for it to get to the bottom floor. He’s tense as he steps in, watches the number tick from one to two, all but bolts down the hallway as he scans the room numbers. He finds Ema’s room soon enough, and he pauses with one hand hovering over the door handle.

“She’s okay,” Apollo assures himself. “She wouldn’t… be here if she wasn’t. Ema’s alive.”

He turns the handle, takes a step in, and almost comes undone right there in the doorway. The machinery and bed are bigger than Ema, swamp her in their grandness and make her look small, frail, weak. Deathly. The tube feeding into her mouth, that Apollo knows is giving her the oxygen she needs and knows is helping to keep her alive, doesn’t help at all.

“Jesus… Christ,” Apollo murmurs.

He stumbles, dazed, almost, to the chair sitting next to Ema’s bed. He wants to take her hand, to offer her that slightest bit of comfort, so badly, but the bandages winding all the way down her forearms and around her hands stop him. So, instead, Apollo does the only thing he can think of, something he hasn’t done in so long, and he clasps his hands together in front of him. And he prays.

“Oh Holy Mother,” he whispers. He fights back tears. “Please. Please, help Ema. I won’t ask for anything ever again. Just help her. Please.”

Apollo looks up, his heart aches for his friend so badly he fears it might fall out of his chest and onto the floor. He sets his hand just close enough to Ema’s so that their fingers are brushing.

“I’ll be right here the whole time, Ema,” he says. “You just take your time.”

[keysmashtitles]

Trees Don’t Play Tag

Written for Whumptober Day 28

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 371

TW: Swearing, Minor Injuries (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

“Oh, Pearl, watch out!”

Pearl turns to where Justine, along with the others, are shouting after her, John, and Trucy. She briefly sees panic flit across Justine’s face before she runs into a tree and falls over.

“Pearly!” Trucy exclaims.

“Oh, shit!” is John’s exclamation.

“Ow…” Pearl groans, placing her hand to her cheek. “That hurt.”

“Pearl!” someone exclaims, and then there’s so many adults crowding around her.

“Are you okay?” Maya asks.

“Are you hurt? Are you bleeding?” Iris pipes in almost before Maya’s even finished speaking.

“Nothing’s broken, right?” Justine asks.

“Would you all just give her some space!” John shouts over their babbling. “You can’t see if you’re all on top of each other!”

“I think I’m okay,” Pearl says. “My cheek kinda hurts though…”

Trucy gasps. “Oh, Pearly, you’re bleeding!”

“Oh! Huh…” Pearl almost brings her thumb to her mouth but thinks better of it. “Does anyone…”

“I do,” Edgeworth sighs. He steps through the group and kneels before Pearl, revealing some bandages, tissues, and antibiotic cream. “Come here, I’ll patch you up.”

Pearl scoots closer, allows Edgeworth to gently clean her cheek. She flinches, ever so slightly, when the cream is applied to the wound, but her smile assures her pseudo-father that she’s fine, really. When everything is said and done, and Edgeworth’s picked a few loose splinters and brush out of her hair, Pearl bounces back to her feet.

“Oh, Pearl, please be careful,” Iris says, clasping her hands together.

“I’ll be fine!” She beams at her sister, folding her hands behind her back. “Just a little bump! Besides…” She side-eyes John, a sly smile creeping to her face. Pearl all but slaps his arm, exclaiming, “John’s it!” She takes off running in the opposite direction.

“Oh no, John’s it!” Trucy exclaims, and she’s following Pearl through the park.

“Aw, man, again?” John groans. He pauses for a second to address the adults. “You all should relax. We’ll be fine! …This time.” He turns on his heel, running after the duo already halfway to the playground. “I’ll get you guys! Just you watch!”

“Well,” Diego says, taking a sip from his coffee. “That could’ve been worse.”

Justine swats his shoulder. “You’re no help at all.”

[keysmashtitles]

Oh Dear Sister, Hold Me Close

Written for Whumptober Day 27

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 501

TW: Storms, Power Outage (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

The wind is howling and the rain is pouring and it’s currently so, so loud. But it’s fine, she’s fine, her loved ones are fine. The storm may be flooding the streets and trying to dredge up memories of her teenhood, but she’s inside, safe and warm, and Lana is too, so she’s okay. She’s fine.

“Sure is loud outside,” Lana comments, not looking up from the book she’s reading.

“Yeah…” Ema says halfheartedly, and she turns the music playing in her earbuds up louder.

Lana frowns, bookmarks her page and sets the book aside. “You okay, Emy?”

“I’m…” Ema pauses her music, takes one earbud out. She flinches when thunder crashes just outside the walls of her apartment building. “Fine. I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? It’s—“

“Really, Lana, I’m okay,” Ema assures her. “Because you’re here, and nothing can hurt me when you’re here.”

Lana smiles. “When did you go and get all sentimental on me?”

Ema snorts, flings a throw pillow at her sister. “You try hanging out with the fop sometime.”

“I think I’ll pass,” Lana laughs as she raises her arms in defense. “I’m going to make some tea. Do you want any?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.”

And everything is fine, because she’s here, and safe, and Lana is just in the kitchen making them tea to drink while they ride out this storm. That is, of course, until the lights flicker once, twice, and shut off on the third go accompanied by the sound of the microwave beeping. For a moment, there’s no movement, no noise.

And then, because being alone in a room with the power gone out doesn’t exactly bring up the best memories, Ema panics.

“Lana?” Ema calls, standing up, too panicked to think of turning her phone’s flashlight on. “Lana?”

“I’m okay, Emy. The power just went out.”

“Where are you? I can’t— I can’t see.”

“I’m coming out of the kitchen right now. Don’t panic. I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay.”

“Lana…”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Don’t move, I’ll come to you.”

So, obediently, she stands there, scared, shaking, and highly alert, waiting for Lana to make it back over to her. The thunder cracks again, and Ema clamps her hands over her ears, squeezes her eyes shut. The floor creaks, only due to Lana’s walking, but to Ema it’s ominous. She opens one eye and, perfectly timed, lightning strikes, illuminating the apartment, illuminating the figure stepping toward her that should be Lana but has morphed into Joe Darke. Ema screams, stumbles back.

“Ema!” Lana exclaims.

Then there’s hands gently cupping her face, and Ema knows these hands, knows the familiar way the thumbs stroke her cheeks, knows they aren’t Darke’s.

“Lana…” she sighs, and she throws herself into her sister’s arms.

“It’s okay, Emy,” Lana murmurs, holding Ema as close as she possibly can. “It’s just us. It’s just us.”

“It’s just us,” Ema whispers; she balls the back of Lana’s shirt into her fists. “It’s just us.”

[keysmashtitles]

Work Regardless

Written for Whumptober Day 26

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 464

TW: Migraines, Swearing (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

“Turn the lights off!” Ema hisses when Apollo walks into the lab and flicks them on.

“Sorry! Sorry.” Apollo hastily turns them back off. “Working on something light sensitive I take it?”

“Sure,” Ema grunts, “something like that.”

“Anything I can do to help?” he asks asks, stepping up to her side.

“You could start by shutting up,” Ema says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Oh! Sorry, I’ll shut up now.” He pulls up a stool, sits down.

Countless minutes go by of Apollo sitting in silence, scrolling through his phone, and Ema squinting at her footprint sample. The light from Apollo’s phone shines in her peripherals, and she groans, sits upright.

“Could you shut that thing off?!” she snaps.

Apollo’s attention snaps to her, eyes wide and blinking owlishly. “Uh, yeah, I— I guess.” He slowly puts his phone to sleep, places it face down on the counter. “Ema, are you okay?”

“I’m—“ Ema pauses with one hand raised. “Fine. It’s nothing. Whatever. Shut up.”

“You’re not fine,” Apollo presses.

“So what if I’m not? Is that so wrong?”

“It might be, depending on what’s wrong.”

Ema groans, presses her eyes into the palms of her hands. “My head just hurts a little bit. It’s no big deal.”

“You have a headache?” Apollo asks. “How bad?”

“I dunno just… fuckin’ bad.” One of Ema’s hands comes down to her mouth, she leans forward, groans.

“Ema?”

“I feel nauseous,” she chokes out. “God I better not throw up in here.”

“Do you have any medication you can take? Or any water to drink? Something to eat?”

“No, no, I’ll be fine, I’m—“ She swallows harshly. “I have work. To do.” She grips the countertop tightly. “Woahhh shit my vision’s swimming.”

“Ema, you should probably take a break,” Apollo stresses.

“I can’t. I’ve got work to do. Shit that needs to be done by the end of today.” Ema slowly lets go of the countertop, leans into her sample, squints against the pounding in her head.

“You’ve got a headache!” Apollo exclaims.

“Actually, I think it’s a migraine,” Ema says. “Light sensitivity, nausea, really bad pain in my head, it all checks out.”

“Like that’s any better?”

“Better to know than to not, right?”

“Better to take a break when your head is hurting than to push on and keep being in pain,” Apollo points out.

“Yeah?” Ema says, if not sarcastically. “Well, I don’t really have a choice there, Justice.”

“I know,” Apollo murmurs. “Still, is there anything I can do to help?”

Ema sighs, turns to him. “You could find me some advil. Or ibuprofen. I’m not picky.”

“Got it,” Apollo says, standing. “I’ll be back soon. Take it easy.”

“Like I know how,” Ema grunts, once again returning to her work.

[keysmashtitles]

Them and Her and the Mall

Written for Whumptober Day 25

Read on Ao3

Word Count: 538

TW: Ringing Ears, Disorientation, Blurry Vision, Fainting (if i missed any, let me know and i’ll add them!)

“Come on, Mystic Maya, we’re so close!” Pearl exclaims.

Maya laughs, jolts a bit as her cousin takes her hand and tugs her forward. Franziska’s quick to step in and take the drink from her hand that’s dangerously close to spilling.

“Pearl, be gentle,” Justine reminds her.

“Oh, right!” She releases Maya’s hand, still bouncing on her feet. “Sorry, I’m just excited!”

“It’s okay, Pearly,” Maya says, and she ruffles Pearl’s hair. Taking her drink back, she asks, “Everyone else still at the food court?”

“Shields and Lang had to go,” Diego says, “but everyone else is still there.”

Maya nods. “Gotcha. Guess Claire’s is just going to have… to…”

She stops, stares through the crowd. She sees him, de Killer (the one she hated first), and her mind is sent into a panic. Who is he here for? Is he here for her? He has to be, there’s nobody else— Maya’s reminded of her family, of Pearl and Franziska and Justine and Diego who are with her right now and everyone else who is peacefully eating lunch downstairs somewhere. He’s here for them.

“Maya Fey, can you hear me?” Franziska asks, breaking through the panicked fog that had settled on her mind.

“Sorry, I…”

She turns to Franziska, and her heart stops. Just past her girlfriend’s head she sees him, Phoenix, de Killer the second, Mich Odie, whatever he’s calling himself these days. She doesn’t realize, in her panic, that her ears are starting to ring and her vision is blurring beyond her control. Phoenix is here. Shelly de Killer is here. They’re here for her. They’re here for her family.

“Maya?” someone, maybe Justine, asks, but she doesn’t know where the voice is coming from, can’t tell who’s speaking where. “Maya, are you okay?”

“I— They—“

“What is it?” The voice barely carries through to her ears, she can’t hear, she can’t see, she can’t deal with this right now. “Maya!”

Maya doesn’t acknowledge her drink falling to the ground, doesn’t acknowledge the group’s shouts as the liquid within spreads over the smooth linoleum of the mall’s flooring. She turns again, wanting to keep de Killer in her sights at all costs, but the crowd’s too thick, or maybe he’s too sly, and he’s gone, he’s gone, how did she let that happen? Her mouth falls open, gasping for words she can’t get a hold of, and she turns, looking for Phoenix, making sure he hasn’t snuck up behind her.

“Maya!” someone says, but she can’t hear them, the ringing’s too loud. “I don’t think she can hear me!”

Phoenix is gone too. If they’ve left them alone, then— Everyone at the food court. Edgeworth and Iris and Ema and Apollo and Sebastian and John and Trucy, God, Trucy’s so young still. She has to get to them, but she doesn’t know where she is, doesn’t know how to get back, doesn’t know doesn’t know doesn’t know.

“Mystic Maya, you should sit down!”

The ringing increases and her vision blurs harshly and her panic is so real so visceral so terrifying so so so— Maya collapses to the ground, and Pearl’s scared yell is the last thing to pierce through the ringing before she’s passed out.