#I wrote the first draft before refreshing myself

[magnus-sm-writes]

WIP Re-Intro: Lessons in Humanity from a Future Physicist

Genre: Literary Fiction, Coming-of-Age | Status: Rewriting | Playlist | Pinterest

Way back in the day—I think on my old account, which I lost the password and the email for—, I wrote a WIP intro for Lessons in Humanity from a Future Physicist. Looking back, it’s not up to the standards that I hold now, which is a sign that things have changed for the better. Things have also changed since then. 

Lessons in Humanity is my oldest work. This year, it turns ten years old. That’s older than 3/4 of my sister’s kids, older than my relationship, and older than even my own name. It’s crazy to think that I’ve been writing this book for almost half of my life, and crazier still that I keep changing things about it. These are characters I made when I was a lonely, angsty tweenager who was feeling weird things about my gender and place in the world.

The first draft of Lessons in Humanity, which was called We’re All Dead After All, was a disaster of depression that honestly concerns me, looking back at it. I was deeply sad at this time. Things have vastly improved since then, though I still do like a tragic story every now and then.

It’s no longer a story drenched in my own pre-teen depression; it’s a story about growing up and changing. I think that’s what makes it so personal to me; that I’ve been changing things about it as I’ve grown up and changed.

Lessons in Humanity is about Kam Suzuki and his best friend Zach Amsel as they begin their first semester at Miami University (in Oxford, Ohio). While there, Kam has a difficult time adjusting to the change and finds himself crumbling under the weight of some issues he has yet to deal with. 

A more literal way to put it is: Kam experiences the absolute Hell I went through (mentally) when I graduated university.

It’s more of a literary fiction character study than something with a big, overarching plot. Think My Year of Rest and Relaxation literary fiction versus The Secret History literary fiction. Nothing big and grand happens in it. It’s a quiet story about a guy slowly wearing himself into nothing and then building himself back up (with the help of his friends). There’s a romantic subplot that I only ended up adding because it felt natural.

I think what makes Lessons in Humanity so important to me isn’t just that I’ve been working on it for almost half my life. It’s also that, whenever I go through a difficult time of change, I come back to it. Case in point: I’m writing this update right now because, in six weeks, the American branch of my company will lay us all off. Lessons in Humanity brings me comfort when I feel directionless because Kam feels the same way. Dare I call it my comfort work.

As a (likely-autistic) trans guy myself, Kam was me before I was even me. For all the time I’ve been writing him, Kam has been a way to understand myself and the things I felt. Of course he’s like me. 

My biggest hope with this book is that it does for others what it’s been doing for me. I love Lessons in Humanity when I’m feeling unsure and afraid of change. If it can comfort other people in those times—or any other time—, then I consider it to be a success, no matter what. The idea of Lessons in Humanity from a Future Physicist being someone’s comfort book makes me want to cry.

I haven’t done a full rewrite of Lessons in Humanity since 2020. Since then, I’ve gone to university and gotten (part) of the full experience, and I’m going to add quite a bit of realism to what wasn’t accurate before.

(My husband and I are going to go on a small trip to Oxford, Ohio in October once the layoffs are finished so I can get a little bit of a refresher on the town. I haven’t been in two years, and that was back when I was doing Doordash.)

Kam Suzuki

One of my first ever queer characters, Kam will always hold a dear place in my heart. It’s not that much of a joke when I say that Kam is my self-insert character. When you list out our traits, we look almost the same. And yet, I do take some steps to make Kam a little different from me. I take aspects of people in my life that I love (which I do for all of my characters) that are far different from me and put them in him.

Despite being obsessed with his physical fitness, Kam is someone who doesn’t deal with his problems. He locks them in his chest and lets them claw away at him until he can’t stand it anymore. Unfortunately, that happens to him during the events of Lessons in Humanity. There’s some stuff he’s been holding in for far too long, like his trauma from walking in on his twin brother’s suicide attempt, along with his general hatred of things changing and fear of abandonment. 

Kam’s lifelong dream is to work for NASA. He’s been obsessed with space and science since he was a small child, so of course, he’s a Physics major. He’s also the type of person who works himself to the bone for success. (In this way, we are the same.)

Zach Amsel

Something I love about Zach is that it feels like he’s the other part of me. What Kam didn’t get, it seems like Zach got. Zamsel is the type of indie soft boy that I easily catch crushes for, with my “anxious but slutty bisexual” energy and unruly curly hair.

When it comes to Zamsel, I would just like to say: his playlist is composed of a lot of The Front Bottoms. He’s a sad boy who gets into a lot of bad situations with toxic romantic partners that take advantage of him. While I’ve changed the timeline of a couple relationships of his, the fact that he’s willing to get with almost anyone who shows interest in him is equal parts depressing and frustrating. For both everyone in the novel and myself. 

Bad taste aside, Zamsel is a sweet guy with an incredible competitive streak. He and Kam have been competing with each other for years now, and they still push each other towards success.

Nikki Espinosa-Jasso

Nikki is a Mechanical Engineering student who shares an art class with Kam and Zamsel. She’s a year older and wiser, a bit jaded, and overall, a little abrasive on the surface, but she has a heart of gold. I think we’ve all met a person like her. Her main love languages are acts of service and getting food together.

She’s receiving what is pretty much a total overhaul. Where she used to be a quasi-mother figure to Kam and Zach, I’ve decided to make her a little more feral and a lot less maternal. Nikki needs to be a more interesting person outside of the boys.

Vic Suzuki

Kam’s brother who is still in high school since he didn’t skip a grade when Kam did. When I first created him, he was your typical 2014-era emo, which has now become a 2024 Tiktok alt boy, I guess. Blue hair, lots of piercings, black hoodies under leather jackets, bold tattoos, bisexuality. He was my gender goal when I created him, and honestly, I’m pretty damn close to it right now.

In the past, Vic was depressed to the point of attempting suicide, which Kam walked in on and was traumatized by. Vic doesn’t know this. He’s gotten better since then, and has far better coping mechanisms. Honestly, he has some of the best mental health in the book, which is a huge change from how he was in WADAA. 

He has goals now (that don’t include being dead). Vic is trying to line up a tattoo apprenticeship when he graduates high school. 

Gerard Shimmish

Kicked out of his parent’s house for being gay, Gerard has been living with the Suzuki family for about a year and a half. He’s Vic’s boyfriend and best friend, and a general ray of sunshine. We don’t see as much of Gerard as we did in WADAA, which is a shame. Gerard is a character I pour a lot of my optimism into.

His big thing is helping people. He wants to be a social worker or a psychiatrist. Something where he works with LGBT youth like himself. 

He’s getting some minor character edits to make him a little more interesting, but overall, I think Gerard’s a sweetheart. I might borrow some traits from my husband to give him some more depth.

Tag List

@aritany, @reininginthefirewriting

Ask to be added to the tag list!

[freeuselandonorris]

hi tumblr user freeuselandonorris !! your writing is genuinely super amazing to read so I'm very interested in how your writing process is like. pls share with the class... in general and also in your longer works 🫶

hello! thank you so much 🥰 of course, i love talking about writing stuff!

as much as possible, i try to write in the mornings before i start work. it's taken me ages to realise i'm not a night owl - i like staying up late when i can, but i do my best work in the mornings and i like to write when my brain is fresh and not knackered after a day at work. mostly though, the reason why i'm able to write so much is just because it's habit now, i write for about 45 minutes most mornings. if you can (schedules allowing, i worked shifts for years so i know it's not easy!) i find making a specific time of day to write helps sooo much with staying consistent

i write in gdocs and don't do anything fancy with formatting. when i'm doing a first draft, i don't really go back and edit as i'm writing and i tend to just get the words down even if i know it's clumsily expressed or whatever. the first draft isn't for beautiful prose, it's for telling yourself the story so you can figure it out as you're going along.

if i truly get stuck, i just stick a note in like [XXX LANDO AND OSCAR HAVE CONVERSATION HERE ABOUT THE PREVIOUS NIGHT] or whatever, and then i can come back to it later and fill in the gaps. it's usually easier to figure out those sticky bits once you've written the bits after it, because then you know what you're writing towards.

thennnn i read it all through and figure out if there's any massive structural issues with it (e.g. if the pacing is way off and it needs another section, or the tone starts off one way and ends another way because i was in two very different moods when i was writing, etc)

once all that's done, i'll do another sentence-level edit, and this is where i make all the sentences sound nice and elegant and like i vaguely know what i'm doing. tweak dialgoue to sound more 'them', take out some of the adverbs, fix the punctuation, keep an eye out for using the same phrase three times the same paragraph, etc. and that's it!

sometimes if i really start to lose steam with a piece, i'll get about three quarters through and then do the editing, and by that point i usually know where i need to go because i've kind of refreshed my connection to the beginning of the story, if that makes sense?

for longer works (i'm assuming you mean like, mondayverse-level long) it's honestly kinda the same, except i write myself more notes beforehand - with monday i wrote myself a big list of all the races that year and what had happened to lando and oscar in them (deleting any where i couldn't find anything interesting) and added things like factory dates, figured out when the PR videos might have been filmed etc using the mclaren insta (rip to all those videos they deleted) as a cross-reference tool. then i wrote myself a VERY vague plot outline (about 10 bullet points) and inserted those plot 'beats' into the race timeline. and then i pretty much followed the process above, treating it chapter by chapter.

there you go! i don't think it's very exciting/original as a process but hopefully it was vaguely interesting :)

[pitter-patt-art]

Ace Attorney AU August oops-august-has-been-over-for-a-week Update!!

Hiiiii well okay first and most importantly of all! Happy investigations collection day everyone!!!! My copy is supposed to arrive by 10pm although I'm not sure I'll be playing it right away, but, hey, once it arrives I'll have in my possession at least one physical copy of every game in the series (2 for aai1, woohoo)!!! *Coughs* uh except all of the OG Trilogy which instead I own like 2 times over digitally (3 in T&T's case, thanks Wii) lmao. Ah well.

NOW the actual post. Yeah it's not August anymore but I've been recuperating or w/e so shhh, better late than never!

Overall I wrote over 50k words (actually in August itself) and posted 5 fics (with many more in progress), which is honestly just, wild???? That is so cool. Apparently the way to overcome writer's block is just overcommit to a month-long prompt list, who knew!

Here is my post about the first 17 days/AUs! And over here's my Ao3 series for these! Below the cut I'll wrap up the last 14 days of AUs, some thoughts, etc!

I am setting the goal for myself to actually finish writing these before the end of the year even if they're not technically "AU-gust" qualified anymore by the time I get to them sooo ...wish me luck!! In the meantime I am proud of myself for (tbh completely unnecessarily and to my detriment lmao) coming up with actually a full 31 solid AUs based on the prompts that I feel inspired by.

This post is gonna be a bit more rambly than the last one because I definitely did more of my writing last month the first 2 weeks rather than the last 2, but nevertheless--

Onto the remaining AUs!

18 - Space Travel

So, I actually started a draft at the airport before my vacation where I got wayyyy too sidetracked getting detailed about this one and thus ended up not being able to finish the post before takeoff lmao. I'm not sure whether it's annoying or interesting to include all of that here, but it's my post so fuck it, here's August 21st patt to tell you aaall about it so I don't have to: The Martian AU (I've only seen the movie and not read the book but i *did* literally just re-watch it because this thought crossed my mind lol. (Hello! It's future me popping in to say: fun fact, rewatching this movie literally ended up being the reason I knew a bar trivia answer last week lmao. Huzzah for the powers of Ace Attorney refreshing my movie quote knowledge.) Be glad this one occurred to me because my first inclination was to lean into the dark past of my vld phase (I'm super joking I had a lot of fun with it before the last few seasons haha sorry idk what to tell you friends) and see how much I'd retained if i tried to make that work but the martian sounded more fun in the end). Apparently my Thing™ is a) poisoning Phoenix and b) putting Apollo in an insane situation in which he's completely on his own--which all things considered is probably far meaner lol. I think Phoenix is to blame for creating his own problem here for choosing to eat the stupid necklace but I fully blame Capcom for all the BS Apollo has gone through after AA4 (bc...the stuff IN that game is. coincidentally also Phoenix's blame to claim. lol). That said I'm part of the problem teehee. Apollo can be Some Guy from the real world who gets isekai'ed and he can also be Mark Watney :P (sorry bud I love you but you have just the Worst case of unavoidable main character syndrome). ((Which is QUITE funny actually because I'll never get over Capcom calling 4,5,6 the """"Apollo Justice Trilogy"""" (it's really not and it's frankly insulting they're trying to say it is.) Like he's. Y’know. The main character in exactly one of those games...... so.)) What was I talking about? Lmao oh yeah so Apollo is left on Mars (not sure he actually has much in the way of Botanist™ vibes but the indomitable, never-say-die, highly sarcastic vibes.... ye haha that's my boy right there). Omg wait sorry I'm writing this and realizing this whole thing actually fits the 18th AND yesterday's (the 20th) prompt as well. Whoops.

Clay as the captain (let him do something, says I)

Trucy as I think the pilot ONLY because I am literally constantly on the lookout to make a Wright Flying Brothers joke, sorry

Klavier aaaas. Uh. So the German astronaut in the film is the chemist and navigator and I know Klav's not necessarily supposed to be actually German canonically but there IS something funny about it

Athena as the flight surgeon and EVA specialist (for a couple reasons but mostly so she can be a doctor lol. I imagine she also can be there for psych stuff too, like, it's a long ass space voyage, that does shit to your brain)

Kay as the SysOp and reactor tech, tbh mostly because for some reason i really have a thing for hacker/programmer Kay, i guess?

Ema I want to be there also lol so that would be exceeding the actual number of OG astronauts but eh it's my AU. The rest of these I'm just directly comparing to a crew member from the martian but I think some of the titles and tasks could be redistributed a little to allow an extra person as a treat for me.

Originally i kind of wanted Sebastian (....SIGH. or...Eustace. (I fear even though it's AAIC release day today, I truly may die on this hill forever, falling on my sword of devotion and gratitude to the fan translation team... That said, while I think Eustace is, like, a Deeply Fine name, I have to say that Excelsius is a fucking knockout name lmfao, that one took me out. Anyway, ahem: "I wanted Seb/Eustace...")) to be there too but I think that's getting into too many cooks territory just specifically bc I'd have too many voices to play with lmfao. So instead I think he's the operator who works the satellite and realizes Apollo is alive, I think he'd fit that well. NOT THAT that needs to be. Included. In the AU. I have...so much self control.

Anyway I have too many thoughts about it, it's a problem, ironically I think I would prefer to focus on the crew and not Apollo himself, so that would at least make it more than just a rehashing of the movie/book. (Or, the movie at least. Does the book spend more time with them? I should read the book.) ...I did, Of Course, also came up with a funny, pseudo-future-science-y way to do a Sibling Reveal in this one, so there's that, too, haha. OKAY AND, SCENE. Snatching my mic back from myself. I'm actually so devoted to the Martian AU now hahaha, I really didn't think I'd let that happen to myself but here we are... You'll see in a bit, but I for-better-or-worse do truly have an extended universe going on for it now, eheh... (Help.)

19 - Spies

Franmaya?? Franziska POV??? Here's the deal: I cannot BELIEVE I got this many days into the month and STILL hadn't come up with a franmaya-centric AU, it's terrible. Also I need a Maya POV if I want to hit my self-set, self-indulgent goal of having POV of every "main" character I can (did I exactly accomplish this no but that's perfectly fine obviously haha it was just a side achievement I had my eye on). So to that end, I ended up with something here that I'm not COMPLETELY sure I won't end up changing when I sit down to actually work on it, but in short: semi The Princess Bride vibes but with spies instead of pirates! Or uh! So um okay full disclosure lol I got all excited about an AU of this kind and then like an hour into daydreaming it into existence I realized I was heavily relying on / leaning into ASSASSIN territory rather than SPY. Which are notably different things. (Wait lol should I blame Spy x Family?? Totally Endo-sensei's fault and not at all mine, boom, take that.) ...And not to go even harder into sxf territory, whoops, but my idea was something along the lines of like, since Kurain School Channeling changes spirit mediums' appearance entirely, I was going to have Maya be something of an expert in disguise, and Franziska I was almost more or less going to let retain her actual position of international prosecutor with Interpol, although perhaps I'd lean more into a James Bond-esque intelligence agency sort of thing than what we see them do in-game, I'm not sure. Maya gets "killed" for real in 2-4 except she actually just becomes an international assassin(?) apprentice. Does this make sense? Probably not lol. But is it a little funny and a little sad? Yes, yes it is, and that's always my sweet spot as a writer. The only problem with this premise is I can't stop myself from considering what Phoenix would do / be doing in the background, because the problem with Maya "dying"-only-being-secretly-alive leaves at least twofold problems in justifying why Nick hasn't gone full conspiracy theory board stop-at-nothing-to-find-her, in that a) If she's not dead, Pearl can't channel her, and knowing Pearl I have to imagine that would be her first move to try tbh, and b) even if that weren't an issue, if the police were never able to track down Maya's body at all, I fully believe Nick would still throw himself at the problem until he's able to find answers irregardless, so. This ain't about him though!! So we'll just all have to deal with knowing he's taking reaaally really bad care of himself while he single-mindedly tries to figure out what's going on ahaha...ha. He's most absolutely the drowning child in the facebook post meme. Don't worry about him.

20 - Crossover/Fusion

Soooo. Okay. First may I say, I'm not the most crossover-fic-y person in the world neither as a reader nor writer. HOWEVER. Unfortunately. My one undying weakness has proven to be Ace Attorney x Legally Blonde (and more specifically Legally Blonde the Musical, the best version, though I do love Reese Witherspoon's performance ofc it's iconic but the musical is just MWAH ugh. One of my all-time favorite musicals and definitely the one I've listened to the most esp the past couple years hahaha.) The problem is, I've joked about so many slight variations / one very Long Intensive specific AA/LBtM crossover AU ideas, that trying to limit myself to a one-shot I could conceivably finish within a day proved too much for my decision paralysis and I didn't end up writing any of them lmao. Alas. Mostly, I just think it would be funny to see the characters interact in something of a vacuum just for fun, the problem is just that I happen to be uniquely terrible at not thinking through a Crack AU until I can, ahem, "crack" it, so to speak, to make it actually justifiably function. So in theory all I want to write for this day is some combination of like, Elle and Phoenix interacting and Miles and Emmett interacting, or the four of them having a conversation that goes something like "omg wait me too!! i also went from a creative undergrad degree directly into law to chase after some guy!! what are the odds teehee" while Emmett and Miles watch in horror, and also alternatively Emmett and Phoenix mostly bemusedly watching Elle and Miles geek out over like, fancy ass high class (pink) clothing like "uh yeah i have no idea what any of those words mean. she bought me this suit and i honestly wouldn't even be able to find the store again. oh no way he bought you yours too?? man, wild." Etc. (If anyone's interested in really watching me suffer and spiral: my longer and more intensive idea for an AU with them is to have them be tackling parallel cases where either of them (Elle and Phoenix) has specific knowledge that is helpful to defending the others' client, and they get like place-swapped through dimensional shenanigans somehow also related to the cases. And Phoenix has to abide by, like, nominally-accurate US trial law (I know he wouldn't really be licensed shhhh) -- by which I mean Emmett is sitting as his co-council and exercising the most restraint possible to keep from bashing his head into the table every two seconds. And Elle has to abide by guilty-until-proven-innocent Japanifornia trial law ("wait WHAT omg what do you MEAN the prosecution can just, like, not submit their evidence before the trial???? wait what do you MEAN we should just TAKE THAT that is EVIDENCE AT A CRIME SCENE--"). On the bright side, Elle gets to experience being one of the most normally-dressed people in a courtroom and not at all being looked down upon for her general vibes and wardrobe (like tell me she wouldn't fit right in in the ace attorney universe and seem completely ordinary), and Phoenix gets to experience a real jury (take that jurist system trial that Capcom would like to never ever talk about again) and also the judge going "so, Prospective Juror No. 103, do you understand that the defense in this criminal trial does not need to say a single word in order to be doing their job? the burden of proof lies entirely on the prosecution the entire time and the defense and defendant could choose to remain silent every day of trial and that would be completely within their rights, do you understand that? are you okay with that?" etc etc, shout out to my jury service a couple month ago and the kinds of questions a real life California judge asks jurors that would seriously blow the minds of every single character in Ace Attorney lmfao can you imagine? Anyway.) So yeah idk. Also something something, spirit mediums and the whole Greek Chorus bit from the musical... "School Spirit"... much to think about in crack AU land hahaha.)

21 - Absurd Tragedy

To be honest with you, this is the entire series lmao, so much so that I had trouble even thinking of an AU to be "alternate" in any way here, hahaha. What I sort-of landed on and have vague outline notes about in my doc is (not to make another excellent-musical-adaptation-of-an-already-top-tier-movie-which-is-itself-a-highly-unfaithful-adaptation-of-a-fairly-obscure-book reference) a Shrek the Musical "I Think I Got You Beat"-style debate about whose canonical absurd tragic circumstances are the worst, lmfao. Granted, this then turned into a "wait what if I use said argument as an absurd way in which to make Apollo and Trucy have a siblings realization completely on their own, which both compounds the fact they've both already lived such tragedy to begin with but also could touch on Phoenix knowing about it and not telling them about it", and uhhhhh lmfao a debate specifically between them is OBVIOUSLY not the romantic flirting banter of the song between Shrek and Fiona lmfao but like still, the general premise, just in a sibling bickering coat of paint instead. Also was toying with it being an Athena POV just to sell home / for the additional absurdity of the experience of "you've gone over to your friend's house to hang out and suddenly they're obnoxiously arguing with their sibling and their parents are nowhere to be seen and you're not exactly sure what you're supposed to do with yourself except awkwardly wait for them to be done" lmfao. Which I've most absolutely experienced from both ends multiple times hahaha. The alternative option for this prompt is just for me to write an excessively long essay debating and attempting to personally rank the main cast's level of absurd tragedy compared to each other, lol.

22 - Orphan

I wrote 324 words (slash one physical lined page in my actual notebook) of this while I was on vacation, lol. AU where Miles invites Phoenix to go watch one of Gregory's trials (or Phoenix invites himself, or Gregory invites him while Miles tries to hold the landline phone away from him, lol) and I mean of course the trial he goes to is The Trial (like, Jeffre... AW CRAP wait I don't actually know what Jeff Master's or Kate Hall's official names are lmfao uhhh. Well you know what don't worry about that. Happy AAIC day once again..? Lol. Anyway, the concluding day of Gregory's last trial, obviously, ignore the defendant's name.) Like, basically, here's my thought. AU where Phoenix is also there, and not only does that mean he knows what happened to Miles and Gregory but also, like, it's Phoenix. Tell me even at 9 he wouldn't be insisting on taking care of the poor kid who just lost everything and has nowhere in the world to go. Tell me he's not like, begging his parents they need to help him, lol. I think really this is just sort of an AU to explore one of my several personal headcanons for what Phoenix's parents are like, because I've spent a lot of time on a different version of them (coughs for the last AU on this list...coughs) but I also have a version of them which I find fun / funny where they're like, kinda hippy-dippy and like very hands-off (tbh almost all of my hc's about the Greater Wrights is they're very hands off, just in different ways) but in more of a "we want our child to experience the beauty and wonder of the world on his own time and not influence him or set rigid standards to conform to" kind of philosophy. Anyway my point is they like adopt/foster Miles somehow before Manfred can actually get his hands on him (he's still too busy dealing with the fresh bullet wound I guess?) This is just a gen au of course, not only because they're 9 lol but also the logistics of being adoptive/foster siblings gets weird quick lmao, but mostly I just find it interesting to think about what might have happened if Miles was in an environment where people paid more attention and cared more (and weren't explicitly influencing and manipulating him to exasperate the problem on purpose), because I have to imagine examining his nightmares a little more closely a little more quickly might have led someone (say, Phoenix who was also there in this AU) to find something slightly off about it or like start putting pieces together quicker, idk. I, uh, I'm not gonna lie to you, I don't actually remember how I intended to end this one hahaha ;; I started it but I was on vacation and neglected to outline / summarize the rest of my ideas the day of, so I guess I'll just have to see where my mind takes me when I get back to it.

23 - Musician

So my FIRST thought for this day was to use it as an excuse to finish my First Ever Ace Attorney Fic, which has been in WIP stasis for...uh.... 6. Years. i--SIX????? Shit. lmfao. yeah uh. I guess I created the first version of the doc (on my OneNote, god) back in 2018. So. Yeah. Hm. Omfg. This fic has partially existed since before Phoenix Disbarment Day. That is so. Wow. Damn. Y'all we're so close to aa4 time (2026) what the hell??? Ahem. Pianist Phoenix. That's. My point lmao. I know the original thing that sparked me loving this concept was actually some tumblr post I saw apparently a LONG long time ago, hahaha, and I know there's no way I'll find it with tumblr's abysmal search function, but just know it was not a completely original idea of mine when I say i fucking LOVE the headcanon that, you know what actually Phoenix CAN play the piano, he just chooses to do it as shittily as possible because that's kind of what he's like post-disbarment and he'd absolutely get a kick out of fucking with people like that even if they have no way to know they're being fucked with. It's like, he's no virtuoso or anything, but he can passably play the piano! He's just being an ass on purpose! It kills me every time lol. I won't say I think that's necessarily true in canon so ofc it's not like an end-all-be-all hc for me or anything but it's just sooooo funny to me that I like to break it out any time I possibly can. Look me in the eyes and tell me he wouldn't. Honestly, look me in the eyes and tell me if he actually put his mind to it in any meaningful way he wouldn't be able to get decent quickly regardless, considering the fact he became an accomplished lawyer on more-or-less a total whim. This to say: that was my intention, to finish this fic I've had brewing that was about Phoenix actually being able to play the piano and hiding it for a really long time but eventually being found out by Miles by chance. Except then I sat down on the plane and started writing a Pearl POV instead? In which she finds out about more or less the same exact concept but from Iris--also by chance, but less actually catching him playing and more being asked, "Oh, does he still play? He was always good at that." And then bc it's Pearl (Pearl I love you), of COURSE she goes and confronts him about it. Pearl might be the single most confrontational character in these games tbh which is SO FUNNY to me. Like I'm kind of exaggerating obviously but also am I? I know she has psyche-locks you have to break through multiple times throughout the series but stiiiill. Everyone else is so repressed and weird about anything remotely vulnerable, I stg. Props to Maya for making sure Pearl turned out pretty okay I guess, lmao. Anyhow yeah that's sort of the AU I ended up with. Pearl POV where she and Iris know they're sisters (don't get me started on this I have so many thoughts about the amount of information I'm positive Maya and Pearl are NEVER given skjflj) and Pearl visits Iris in prison regularly and on one such visit maybe she mentions Nick's job at Borscht and Iris makes a totally innocuous comment to the effect that Pearl learns he actually knows how to play the piano and she goes to get mad at him about it because he's definitely been pretending he can't and Pearl's pretty sure he's told neither Maya nor Trucy the truth and that cannot be left to stand.

24 - Pretend Hate

Okay, this exists in a similar realm to the Orphan prompt, except instead of Phoenix being there for the trial or the Wrights taking Miles in before Manfred can, it's more just AU where Miles doesn't actually cut all contact and he and Phoenix successfully end up exchanging correspondence (in semi-secret) during the time they're separated (i.e. they remain friends and close during the 15 years they're separated in canon). "Semi-secret" because they--esp Miles--somehow hide who exactly it is they're talking / writing to all the time but don't necessarily hide the fact they are doing that. Like, a fake cultural / language exchange program or something? I feel like there could be a world where Manfred really doesn't give a shit what Miles is up to as long as he's being molded into "someone Gregory Edgeworth would hate" (I don't think he would lol but that's another AU) and becoming a model von Karma protege prosecutor and such. He obviously goes to lengths to cut Miles off from everything he's familiar with in that he takes him to Germany, but I've always thought it's way more on Miles feeling guilty and blaming himself and thinking he's unworthy / pushing people away being the reason why they never talked before aa1 despite Phoenix's "attempts to contact him," whatever those may be specifically. And, yeah, I've watched that one episode of the anime but tbh I don't really use anime canon for almost anything besides maybe some of the fun visuals, haha, so I'm kind of disregarding that anyway. ANYWAY. My point is. The "pretend hate" part is that--sometime over the course of exchanging correspondence, Phoenix starts thinking something's weird and gets it in his head to "investigate" himself, since he's still in LA / has access to the scene of the crime and stuff, and then as a combo of him just plugging away at it until he has enough (circumstantial) evidence to be like "Miles I think you're wrong about this" and also a younger, slightly less repressed, slightly less in Manfred's pocket Miles actually being somehow willing to consider alternatives a little--they're able to put their heads together and eventually come to the (correct) conclusion ahead of time, before the 15-year statute of limitations, that it was almost certainly Manfred who did it. And then they work together to figure out how they can possibly PROVE that but they haven't thought of anything foolproof by the time aa1 events start rolling around (or at the very least, the 5-years-ago sections of aa3? It might make more sense if it's as soon as Miles returns to Japanifornia, and also I think Phoenix has way less reason to fall for Dahlia/Iris so hard if Miles is around and *coughs* available lmfao. Anyhow). So, in the hopes it'll keep Manfred from getting suspicious of Miles, they publicly pretend to hate each other, putting on a show of more of the canon attitude Miles esp. has before 1-4, but behind the scenes they're actually working together trying to think of a way they can definitely get a conviction to stick that Manfred won't be able to worm out of. And that's the AU! Idk, in terms of additional thoughts, I couldn't decide what to do / what would happen to Mia in this AU either, which doesn't super matter but did give me pause. So she might live, idk, depends the exact timeline. I do also think a scene where--Dahlia still hits on Phoenix in the reading room/courthouse library but he's like, actively there waiting for one of Miles' trials to conclude for a covert meeting, so when Miles gets there and is like "What are you messing with over there?" Phoenix is like "Oh, hey, check out this weird bottle some girl just gave me because apparently she fell in love at first sight, haha, isn't that so funny--" and then Miles recognizes it from the Fawles trial and they catch Dahlia earlier or something, idk. Or alternatively Phoenix was AT that trial so HE recognizes it. Or maybe it's funniest if he was there but doesn't recognize it until Miles does lmao, this is not the point of this AU but I can't stop myself from considering this part of it.

25 - Scientists

So THIS is the day I sort of alluded to earlier, many many words of post ago, where I got so invested in my The Martian AU that I started accidentally worldbuilding about it. What I've started and have about 400 words of (slash one notebook page, again from the plane after my vacation), is like, AU where it's NASA instead of law and I can make Phoenix go "What, like it's hard?" only it's about literally rocket science this time hahaha. Basically for this fic I just thought, well what if Phoenix just shows up as a flight tech or engineer or something (idk I don't really know that much about real life astronautics) as Miles is preparing for some space mission or something and he's just like WHAT are YOU doing HERE. I know I know I made Apollo literally be the titular martian and yes he ALSO has a (or tbh probably has a WORSE) canonical debilitating fear of heights, so, shhh, but I do like the idea that Phoenix is like, oh, who, me? In the flying metal death trap? No fucking thank you, I will be down here watching and talking directly to you through a headset or something. You cannot escape me however i can at least escape the building I'm in. No interest in seeing the Earth from above, thanks. Actually iirc Miles also doesn't love heights but meh whatever I'm fairly certain Phoenix talks about it the earliest in the series so there you go. Anyway, this would all be a mission prior to whatever mission it is that Apollo & Co. go on to Mars for the first part of the AU, so I guess you could consider it a prequel? And probably a fairly shippy one. I have other reasons for which it's fun for me if wrightworth is at least together if not outright married before the events of the "The Martian" part of the AU, so this one would be, like, about how exactly that went down.

26 - Victorian Era

Okay, once again, this just. IS. Literally. Dai Gyakuten Saiban / The Great Ace Attorney. Lol. That said, I've always loved the fanart I've seen of like Ryuunosuke and Phoenix (and respective Co.'s) interacting, or like, one or the other ending up in the other time period somehow, so I thought it'd probably be fun to try my hat at that. I feel like I've neglected the tgaa characters anyway, considering I actually somehow managed to reference PLvPW already, which is obviously significantly more of a spinoff and also just largely non-canonical, lmao. Also tgaa is just SO GOOD, augh. I'd love to have the multi-witness cross examinations from both of those games back sometime again, and I had so much fun with the jury in tgaa too, excellent mechanic. What was I talking about? So, I never completely decided on a concrete direction to take this, but even before AU-gust had started I'd already been toying with the idea of an AU where maybe Maya or Pearl channels a character from tgaa specifically because some documentary or special or something comes out talking about the real-life Herlock Sholmes (as opposed to the Totally Fictional "Sherlock Holmes" who Phoenix references in that one trilogy line, because I really think that's the funniest possible explanation for the discrepancy) and they're arguing over how that cannot possibly be a real person and no one was named that and etc etc and then to prove once and for all one way or the other Hurley is channeled and also for bonus joke content "recognizes" Phoenix at first (idk pretend his eyesight got worse in his older age, I know Phoenix and Ryuunosuke look, tbh, less alike than Ryuu and Apollo do, lmao, but again that's another AU) and then I get to play with Phoenix's mom's maiden name is Naruhodou and his middle name is Ryuuichi or such to that effect, because that is also a favorite headcanon of mine (not in small part because I can project my own life onto him by making him half-Japanese from SoCal, lol). So that's an idea I'd had that was already decently fleshed out and the ONLY problem is that if I'm having characters actually be channeled then there's a very real limiting factor of how many spirit mediums exist, and also that means Maya and/or Pearl don't get to interact with them, which for the sake of not overwriting would be good but for the sake of my love of a chaotic group conversation would be bad. But, uh, hopefully I do manage to hold myself to a less broad cast of characters, ideally, instead of bringing a bunch of them over to the other time period to see how they'd deal with that and interact en masse. Ha. Haha.

27. Younger / De-Aged

So here's another AU I'd already had idle thoughts about before AU-gust had even started! I...will get into this later, TRUST I will, lmfao, but I do have an extremely involved AU already in which Time Travel of the "regression" type is involved, i.e., they have their memories of the "future" but are thrown back into the past including their own younger bodies however-many-years-ago. So I've got that type of thing covered, I promise I do, haha. And additionally, I've actually already written them "younger" for my colorless AU way back on day 2, so I did think perhaps I'd just continue that one and say it was for this prompt (a smart person thing to do. this is the objectively correct option). On the other hand. I find pre-DL6 Phoenix and Miles reacting to how their lives actually turned out in the end HILARIOUS. Tell me it's not funny. And tell me it's not, like, some sort of depressing-yet-ultimately-hopeful for the older/current them to look at their child selves and be like Kid, Oh, You're Going To Go Through Some Shit, but also reflect on how they did make it and things turned out okay and life goes on etc etc. My problem with this kind of thing is that it's hard to come up with a justification for and that's not a problem in itself but it is a problem in me not knowing how i'm going to end a fic, which often gets me decision-paralysis-ed into not being able to start it in the first place, which did in fact happen to me here, haha. I think ideally I'd just do a quick "wait, was that a dream?" kind of thing where they (Miles and Nick) have a short conversation with themselves, but... Uh-oh, what, did you think that was all I had? You clearly don't know me at all. OTHER au option where young Phoenix is in the future/present and rather than himself and Miles it's the Wright Anything Agency who like, idk, find him roaming the streets of LA (fun fact! I actually came up with this AU one day while I was quite literally roaming the streets of LA myself at like 3am-ish. Do with that what you will). He is of course wearing a hat or beanie or something at first because come on, that's way more fun, and no matter how much Trucy, Apollo, and Athena are like "hm idk something about this kid seems familiar" I just don't think my first thought upon seeing some vaguely familiar kid alone on the street would be, like, "Oh, that's obviously a child version of my father/coworker/boss!" So. I'm not really sure that one has an end point either, though, so the same problem still stands, haha. The bad, someone get a spray bottle to spritz me, option of this is, obviously, to combine the two, so it's like the WAA find him first and then are like UHHHHH we need an adult (never mind actual adult-age-ness between them) and somehow end up getting Miles there too, but idk. I... should not. Overcomplicate. I shouldn't. Even, even if...august is over...so theoretically there's no longer any sort of On-Time component since it's late either way........ definitely not.

28 - Caretaker

Here are my exact notes / entire doc for this day. Ahem. And I quote: i brought up the lighthouse keeper thing but i dont know where that would be going exactly maybe this is a thing i could do franmaya for??? since i still havent gotten there? actually lol that as a lighthouse thing is funny. ghost romance? my three tropes rattle End quote. Anyway, shout-out to my friend hailstorm for being the one there to brainstorm "lighthouse keeper" with at the self-same bar trivia that I mentioned previously, lmao. I actually think that was even the same exact day as the The Martian quote was a relevant answer to a question. So yeah, even though I already kind of have franmaya planned for the spies day, that's both kind of sort of a darker AU overall and--WELP well, okay, so, i do, you know, recognize maybe a ghost romance isn't, uh, necessarily the fluffiest kind of AU lmao. Don't mind that. My point is, I love the vibes of a lighthouse keeper AU, and I generally like ghost romance as a trope, so that does feel like a viable option. Honestly, I kind of separately wanted an excuse to practice writing miego also, so maybe the Feys are just all chillin' in this lighthouse for...Some Reason, and that's side-plot relevant somehow, idk. I know Franziska and Godot exist in the same place for a minute in 3-5, but I honestly can't really remember them interacting? I think she'd fucking HATE him though lmfao. He'd think she's funny but I actually think she'd be too reactive for his most preferred teasing/fucking-with-people dynamics, haha. Regardless, if he is there at all, it's a very minor B plot, I think, 'cause this ain't about him, lol.

29 - Forced into Hiding

Achtung, baby, 2566 words of this are written! Lol. So uh, yeah. In short, AU where Klavier gets hounded by fans on the street while he's also having just a bad personal day, and the closest and best place he can think to hide from them is at the WAA. I, um, actually hadn't realized I'd written quite this much of this, haha, it was supposed to be short and fairly silly but then it turned into Klavier having a little bit of a panic attack maybe and getting consoled by Apollo, sure, of course, but then also having to deal with and experience some amount of closure / reach some kind of understanding with the Wrights, also. It's kind of part Klav character study, kind of part complaint against freaking Capcom for neglecting him (boo, I love him, stop ignoring him, or, yknow, worse, whatever the heck turnabout academy was supposed to do for him, which honestly almost felt like a step back to be quite honest). Okay, also, taking a slightly closer look at what I've already written, the REASON I'd thought I'd written way less than this is definitely because he hasn't even GOTTEN to the Agency yet, never mind spoken with any of its members, lmao. That would do it. In any case, I like the idea of Klavier having a bit of a vulnerable moment, and I also like the idea of him and Phoenix actually, like, talking for real, instead of, once again, whatever Turnabout Academy and DD was meant to tell me, which seems to be less than nothing. I kind of like the fact that it gave him a law mentor? I mean, she was very dead, but I have a very meaningful Use for her in later-to-be-announced-AUs-I-keep-teasing, haha. I of course considered other people and times when people in AA might be forced into hiding, but this felt like a silly but also meaningful way to do that without it just being an exploration of Miles and his not-suicide note (which wasn't exactly "forced" anyhow, he did that all on his own) or like, Zak Gramarye (who also completely did that to himself but w/e). Making it about Klavier completely escapes the bounds of canon, because canon is a weenie about talking about any of his actual feelings EVER, so screw you Capcom, I'm doing it for you. Don't worry about it. Trucy commiserating with him about still Loving someone, perhaps the very closest person biologically related to you you've ever known and depended on in your life, who not only did you very big harm personally but explicitly used you in a very real and participatory way to perpetuate the harm elsewhere and all the complexities about Feelings For And About Them Therein, and Phoenix somehow having enough self-awareness to recognize that shutting down completely and isolating yourself away doesn't actually do you any good even when you're at your lowest, and recognizing that Klavier doesn't exactly have a "Trucy" to be a focal point to draw him out of that, and that therefore he needs to be a bit more open to his peers. (Insert joke about "Well, I'm really definitely not suggesting you go adopt an entire child, that's really probably, uh, not the way to go, actually, but, you know. Everyone needs people, that just makes us human." Etc.)

30 - The Beginning of the World

So, hm, as it turns out, I got extremely sidetracked this day thinking about the next day on the docket. Whoops! Unfortunately this ultimately means my ideas for this day as of now are relatively uninspired: I had the thought that I could explore the beginning of Troupe Gramarye, which is its own sort of world, or else, maybe something about the beginning of the series itself but from the somewhat unconventional POV of a one Mr. Larry Butz. Yes, that's a bit self-serving in that it lends toward trying to complete a list of "main, recurring characters' POVs" that I've had as a sidequest all month, but, still. That said, just exploring actual canon through Larry's POV isn't exactly what I'd classify as an "AU" necessarily, so I feel like something would need to be different here. Okay, wait--not to draw inspiration a dang week late to the party, BUT. Now that I'm typing this up, I'm thinking, okay, maybe, what if. The "Beginning" of the series, technically speaking, is basically the fact that Phoenix gets put on (class) trial for stealing Miles' lunch money--which notably only happened because Larry himself picked it up when it fell on the floor. So, perhaps, what about an AU where he doesn't do that? I mean, I guess it would just turn the entire world of AA into something of a terrible series of tragedies with no real closure about them, lol, rip, but it could possibly be interesting? I dunno! (And, yes, I know DL-6 itself is more or less the basis of the series, if we're being ticky-tacky, but Phoenix wouldn't have been involved without meeting Miles, and that somewhat necessitates the class trial, and without him none of canon would get resolved, so. I will say, I do love going back to the earliest points to see how and how much you can make canon deviate or stay the same--reasonably speaking--via minor tweaks and butterfly effect and all that, so this could be interesting, although I once again must say I think it really just means a bunch of innocent people, Miles included, are going to be put away and possibly executed over murders that weren't their faults, lol. Hm. Much to consider.)

31 - Two(+) of the Above:

Beginning of the World + Younger/De-Aged + Canon Divergence (+ Feat. Jokers: Guardian, Everybody Lives)

With all of this, the ONLY prompts I've actually missed on this list become Animagus which I swapped for the Wings joker, and the last joker of the four, Thriller, which was never exactly a priority of mine because I'm not sure I'd write that sort of thing particularly well, so! Wild! Completionists everywhere almost rejoice, haha. SOOOOO. For the eagle-eyed readers out there, I'll bet you're just dying to know what this one AU I've been teasing all post could Possibly be to warrant such a build-up, right? (...Right?) The answer is the at-ow! (Phonetically, lol. I've been calling it that instead of out loud saying all the letters in AATTAU out loud every time.) My friend Ben can attest to the fact that this behemoth AU (her word which I'm stealing) has been in the works for, uhhhh... months?

MONTHS. AHAHA. Ha. That. Sure says March! It sure does! And it is not lying. Lmfao. (Ignore the time, I was working overnight then--my beloved work schedule whomst I miss dearly--so that's a perfectly reasonable discord-ing hour for March-me.) Also, once again, I'm choosing to blame Ben for my extensive AU problems, she sent me a very cute time loop AA fic that utterly destroyed my entire mind because it got the mere idea of "Time-based AU" caught in my endless void-idea-hole. So. Here's the real rub. The literal reason I started doing this AU-gust challenge in the freaking first place was that I was absolutely Desperate to find a way to overcome my writer's block. And one of the (admittedly many) reasons I wanted to do this was because I have been ITCHING to write this stupid behemoth AU for real. I have a massive outline doc already, I have a whole slew of scenes planned, I have lots of character archage, I have sooo many things I want to say and explore about them all you have No Idea. It's extremely self-indulgent and absolutely my personal magnum opus for all my very specific favorite AA headcanons and ideas and thoughts. And obviously, it worked! I did indeed overcome my writer's block! And I had so much fun doing it!! And I'll admit, from the very beginning, I had been eyeing that "Everybody Lives" joker prompt, because...that's it! That's basically the point of the AATTAU (Ace Attorney Time Travel Alternate Universe, if that wasn't clear, haha). I don't want to let myself get TOO into it, because Oh Boy, I sure will! If you let me! Haha. But basically the premise is EXACTLY what I stated in that very first discord message I could find about it. Maybe not so much "time travel" technically speaking than it is "gaining memories of everything that happened in canon right as the DL-6 earthquake happens", so it's more regression than actual time travel since they're in their own younger bodies and everything, but still. It's basically my excuse to treat canon like it did happen and YET allow for everybody to survive and for the very fun cocktail of traumas and joys that come from remembering what happened but having the chance for something different (and all the effort that goes into making something different happen in the first place).

Now, as far as AU-gust goes. I was obviously not about to even pretend I could remotely start this during August itself or justify connecting any of it to the series and the prompts I'd already written for it, lol, but I also couldn't get the idea out of my head, so I got it in my head I really wanted to end the month with SOMETHING that somehow tied into my AATTAU, if only to motivate myself to actually get on it and start writing out instead of solely outlining everything that's been in the works all these months. So to that end, I saw the "Everybody Lives" and the "Beginning of the World" prompts, and an idea came to me. I'd been dancing around the justification aspect of this AU for most of the time I've had it because let's be honest, it's just a very self-indulgent idea and it does not NEED "justification" to serve the purpose I want it to serve and be what I want it to be. But the AU-gust prompts gave me some actual inspiration and an Idea as to a way to solidify my unnecessary "justification" but in a way that it doesn't need to be directly part of the final product of the AATTAU (like, I could make it a separate one-shot and either just link it to and from the AATTAU fic itself, or if it all ends up being a series, then I could just include it in the series but it wouldn't be necessary to read to understand what's going on. And so, I present! The Ami Fey one-shot special I came up with just to fit these prompts :3 ...And by "i present" i mean, uh, I wrote 4k words of it on the 31st and didn't even come close to what I wanted to cover, because I suck at being concise. Lmfao. (Shocker.) Basically, I used Ami Fey as a semi-self-insert kind of godlike figure to reason out a semi-plausible way to make the concept I want to explore happen, happen. And I had a lot of fun, but I do still have a bunch to finish, but either way, I'm very pleased to have a (somewhat silly but ultimately fun for me) reasoning as to the gears ticking behind the scenes of my idea! To be somewhat less vague, the whole AU is predicated on the idea that, Phoenix and/or Miles (who remember from the beginning / from December 28th, 2001) meeting the other characters at-or-after the time they originally met in canon are able to recall their memories of the "original" (i.e. canon) timeline. I've used some magatama shenanigans to have some fun with this, and I'm now using Ami Fey and magatama shenanigans to explain how and why this is A Thing, even if it isn't necessarily the objectively most logically sound argument I've ever made. It's still a good one, in my book, and more importantly I like it, so that's all that really matters.

To briefly explain the "two" (by which I mean 5?) of the "above" I'm using here:

Beginning of the World: This fic specifically would show the beginning of the "world" of this AU specifically! Woohoo! Go Ami Fey, creating a whole new set of problems for our beloved little Guys to go through, hahaha. I think I may have based her character a little too much on Maya mischievousness, but, oh well. Let's just say that's where she gets it from.

Younger/De-Aged: As I've already kind of expressed, the premise of this AU is mostly just them being their own younger selves except they also have the memories of all of canon (and maybe a year or two after the fact, I need to confirm a couple dates).

Canon Divergence: I feel like this is decently self-explanatory, but then again maybe it's a bit cheesy to include this here, since it basically diverges from nearly the first major event of canon (DL-6), but that's not the only time things go almost-canonically but diverge a bit in some way, so I think it really does fit here.

Guardian: This one is a bit multi-fold. It somewhat refers to the way I'm making Gregory Edgeworth the de facto guardian (as in, legal guardian) of mostly everyone I possibly can because I love him and he would be great at it. But also, guardian in that, Mr. Savior Complex Phoenix Wright himself has literally all of the information at his disposal to try to "save" the potential Happy Lives of literally every person he loves, and, well. He does a pretty good job about it; not without cost, haha, but I feel like I can definitely call him a "guardian" of others in this AU. And, as for specifically the one-shot Ami fic, she is essentially the guardian of the entire Fey lineage, in this AU at least, so that also totally fits and is most immediately relevant.

Everybody Lives: I think this one is pretty self-explanatory at this point, lol. But for the one-shot: Ami is essentially trying to secure an "everybody lives" scenario, even if it hasn't been achieved yet, so it's more an aspiration at that point, but ultimately it is indeed successful. Now, "living" does not mean, like, "totally healthy" (mentally or physically), so there's lots more to it, but in short, yes, they live.

And......that's basically a wrap on that!

I mean, it isn't actually at all, since I still have to finish 26/31 fics, lmfao, but as far as the idea generation stage goes, and the use of the AU-gust prompts, that's what's up in my world! Somewhere out there maybe there's an AU of my actual real life where i finished more of these on time, but i'm still pretty pumped by all the work that's already been made on making so many AA fics a reality for me. I've come a long way since starting that first AA fic in 2018...!!

I still have all the aforementioned 26 fics to finish obviously, and I also have AU continuations planned for at the very least, day 2's colorless prompt and day 3's dark academia prompt (let alone day 31's, lol, but that's its own monster entirely), but I'm optimistic!

Thankfully I actually finished using nano to word track for me before they, you know, doubled down on AI and called everyone "abelist" (???) for not supporting it, which, uh. Well. But for my own posterity and if anyone's curious, here's what my word counts looked like throughout the month of AU-gust--admittedly including some planning and outlining:

It ended up being 51,377 words total in August on these AU prompts alone!

I feel like I wanted to say something poignant and meaningful at the end here, but it's almost 9:30 and I work at 4am tomorrow, so I'm going to go ahead and wrap this post up here, haha. If you read all of this, thank you very much for joining me on my little journey!

Once again, here is the Ao3 series where I'll post anything more that gets done, so if you'd like to see how any of these AUs turn out, feel free to keep an eye on that!

And here is the previous post with the 1st half+ of the AUs if you missed it and are interested now!

My copy arrived literally as I was writing this up so I've spent the last several prompts of this post listening to the AAIC soundtrack in the music collection, and, oh man, it's seriously so surreal this exists??? I might be an old fogey who has and will for an indeterminate amount of time continue to have trouble letting go of the fan translation names I've lived with for the past decade or whatever, but it's seriously so awesome the entire series is finally available internationally!! Let's hope for my sake AA7 doesn't come out before I finish any of my AATTAU, because that would really throw a bit of a wrench in my decision-making process, lol.

Bye for now!

[joannerenaud]

Enchant the Heavens review

I've been revisiting a lot of my favorite old historicals since my beloved kitty Peggy died about a month ago, and one of them is Enchant the Heavens by Kathleen Morgan.

When I was a college student I loved romance novels, particularly historical romance, even though most of my friends at the time thought it was ridiculous and made fun of me for reading them. It made me even more stubborn, and I clung to the genre like a barnacle onto the hull of a ship. However, there was one book at the time that was too cheesy even for me, and that was Enchant the Heavens.

I found the cover embarrassing. Look, my teenage self thought, the hero’s hands look like he’s about to crack the heroine’s skull! And the hero, Marcus, was so earnest. The book was so earnest. The culture at the time was saturated with snark and irony, and sadly, I was not immune. I set the book down.

Years later, in 2011, I revisited Enchant the Heavens, and I found myself… well, enchanted. I was swept away by the epic nature of the story and the endearing characterizations. And I reread it just a week ago. I admit, I was afraid the suck fairy might’ve visited it over the intervening years. But I found myself devouring it happily just as I did all those years ago. And it’s good.

Enchant the Heavens was the first novel Kathleen Morgan ever wrote, and it was a labor of love. It’s a big, passionate, visceral, breathtakingly earnest romance.The story involves a British chieftain’s daughter, Rhianna, and the Roman governor’s nephew, Marcus, during Boudicca’s revolt, and their love is an anguished, star-crossed love that takes a great deal of blood and tears and hard work to resolve. Unlike most romances set during this period, the Celts aren’t romanticized into nature-loving New Agers, and the Romans aren’t evil. And neither the heroine or hero give up their cultures or identities in the end; in fact they work on uniting their communities in the aftermath of war. It’s mature and refreshing.

The language does have a lot of archaicisms that kind of annoying. ‘Twould! ’Twas! Naught! Okay… You just have to run with it. But if you’re willing to dive in, there is a lot to love about it. Rhianna is not afraid of revenge, or using her sword, which is really delightful (to avoid spoilers, I won’t tell you who she kills). Marcus is a reasonable guy too, but there’s just the right amount of deeply felt angst that is perfect for a story about forbidden love. Sometimes I feel that Marcus and Rhianna verge on being idealized archetypes then actual people, but it kind of fits with how epic and operatic the story is. (It really captures the vibe of ancient Irish stories like Deirdre, which was the author’s intention.) The author walks the line of having them be larger-than-life figures, but they still grow and change, from a thoughtless girl and a career-driven aristocrat to a responsible, compassionate leader and a humbled man ready to sacrifice his dreams to help his lover and her people.

The research put into this book isn’t perfect— towards the end of the book, there’s an hummingbird, native to the Americas, in Rome — but it’s thorough and thoughtful, and I liked the depiction of the historical figures. For example, the depiction of Nero, who has a brief and memorable cameo, is almost miraculous in how… sensible it is (and ahead of its time given this was written long before the current reassessment of Nero and the 2020 show at the British Museum). There’s no orgies or lions or gladiators or martyred Christians or any other cliches that I’ve seen over and over again in the few historical romances set in this period. It’s astonishing.

Anyway, this book is long. It’s also epic and sweeping in every possible way, and I have a feeling a good chunk was left on the cutting room floor. I would kill to have the original, unedited draft. Rhianna’s relationships with her friends Eilm and Cordaella are given short shrift. Also I feel the destruction of Camulodunum, and Rhianna’s role in it, was also cut a lot. I would have liked to see more of that, and Rhianna coming to terms with how her actions affected innocent civilians.

But the pacing, given how long it is, is surprisingly tight. I thought the consistent themes of freedom, symbolized by the goshawk, was really beautifully done; not heavy-handed, but subtle; and the story really embraces the pagan religions of the time in a way that’s delightful. There’s so much I can’t get into, or this review would be twice as long. There’s battles, druids, psychic visions, continent-spanning political intrigue, murder, and possibly supernatural white boars sent by the gods.

And the ending is really satisfying. I wish it were 20 to 30k longer, but it’s great as it is. It’s an absolute banger of a story. It’s not perfect but I’d give it a 4.5 out of 5 stars.

Of course, what really sucks about it all is that this was going to be the beginning of a series, and the hero’s best friend Quintus was going to get a sequel.

There was, in fact, one sequel (Enchant the Dream) featuring the heroine’s brother Cerdic. But then the author converted to Christianity sometime in the late 90s, and her entire pre-conversion historical and fantasy backlist are completely unavailable. (Of course, her post conversion backlist is available.)

It pisses me off so much, because Enchant the Heavens is so good! And I wanted to see Quintus’s story! But that’s never going to happen. And there’s never going to be a legal digital copy of this book either, because the author has seemingly disavowed it.

But we’ll always have Enchant the Heavens, and even if Morgan wants to forget her pagan past, I am grateful she wrote this book. I highly recommend it.

[the-writer1988]

Hey there! Just wanted to drop by and gush about how much I adore your tangled fics! I've been a reader for quite a while, and I've noticed a delightful shift in your style and character focus lately—totally loving it!

It's genuinely refreshing to witness writers evolving and trying out new things within the fandom. I'm genuinely thrilled that you're still in the game. Hoping you stick around for the long haul!

On another note, I'd love to know what's cookin' in your creative kitchen. What's on your plate in terms of current works in progress or any future fics you're plotting? I remember you posting about it a while back, but, alas, my search skills failed me.

Major kudos for being such an incredible wordsmith! Can't wait for the next chapter (of literally any of your fics).

Wow! Thank you so much!

I think it has helped working with @tangledbea for Between the Kisses and my writing has slowly begun to improve from reading through her edits of BTK and then incorporating my new knowledge into other stuff I am writing to improve my own writing skills.

I have always enjoyed getting into characters and sometimes I can find it very difficult to get into the heads of certain characters!

I have no intention of leaving this fandom - at least not for a long time! (It will be three years in 2024 since I fell deep into Tangled fandom!)

What's cookin' in my creative kitchen? Oh, I have lots of ideas... First and foremost will be Tangled: Between the Kisses and my solo project of The Lost Prince. I am thoroughly enjoying writing TLP and I have quite a few spin-off fics in the works for that universe! I will be revealing more of those ideas closer to Christmas! I will reveal though that the series itself will be called: The Dark Kingdom Twins!

Myself and @twotangledsisters are working on a ModernAU of Tangled called Our Undying Dream which isn't your usual ModernAU rewrite. It will hopefully be surprising and interesting and it does start in the Tangled film timeframe. We hope to be able to share this fic soon but we want to completely write it first before we publish it. Due to our other projects, we work on it when we can.

My other works is a Team Awesome camping fic where Eugene and Varian are caught by bandits and when the bandits learn who Eugene is... well... he's in trouble and its up to Varian to save him! I hope to post this fic early next year. It should only be three chapters and the first chapter is drafted.

I am also working on two other stories.

The first is titled Uprising where Varian and the villagers of Old Corona rise up against the royal family at the end of season one! There is a twist in this fic which I hope will be surprising. At the moment, I'm not writing it due to other commitments, but it is on my list to write. Once the ModernAU and the Camping fic is done, Uprising will become a fic I will begin to focus on as I am really excited about this idea!

The second fic is one I have an idea for but no progress has been made yet. This is titled The Letter in the Lantern. What if Rapunzel had found the letter addressed to her during the Lantern ceremony? During 'I See The Light' I noticed that the lantern Rapunzel launches back into the air is the one her parents launched from the balcony! We know from the series that Frederic always wrote letters to Rapunzel. What if she found this letter? This fic will roughly be about 10 chapters and is on my list to write!

Thank you so much for the ask!

[phantomtwitch]

Congrats on finishing Echoes!!!!!!!

Do you have tips on writing such a long fic? How much planning did you do ?

Ahhh, thank you!!!!

For finishing such a long fic, I have some suggestions, but I think like a lot of writing advice it's a very "your mileage will vary" depending on your own processes. Long and honestly kind of rambling answer (and some mild spoilers for Echoes) below the cut:

So in terms of planning, I'm not really much of a planner to be honest. I know plenty of authors that will do detailed outlines, map out scenes, and then proceed to write each scene or chapter in a very structured way. It works for them, and it's worth a try if you haven't done it before, but I've found it just doesn't suit my general style.

My outline was a lot vaguer. I had basic concepts ideas I wanted to explore - No One Knows AU, Hazmat AU, Danny being friends with the ghosts as Fenton despite being hated as Phantom, and an identity reveal. My basic structure at the start was split into four parts, with each part highlighting a different reveal with different people in his life, but after finishing the first one with Valerie, I found that while it worked okay as a standalone, as a long fic it just . . . didn't. When I started doing the next part, it felt too repetitive and too much like the exact same thing with just the person swapped out, so even though I liked that first bit overall, I scrapped it in favor of trying to do something else because I still wanted to get to that end point where his family and friends all knew the truth.

So instead I tried to think about what could bring some of these people together to kind of discover some things in tandem instead of separately (hence the possession bit I came up with, which wasn't part of my original concept), and then from there the second part felt really natural as I realized I had to deal with the fallout from what happened there and it allowed me to bring the Fenton parents in more, too. I knew the last part was always going to end with my interpretation of Reign Storm, so it mostly became a question of how to get there in the context of the themes that started to develop as I wrote (namely around forgiveness, trust, hope, etc).

Dividing it into three parts with a different focus that still supported the overall story and character arcs helped a ton. Not getting too fixated on editing as I went along was also a big, important piece, since that's something I've struggled with intensely in the past. I want things to be perfect, and part of finishing this meant accepting that it wouldn't be and that it was okay and that, in all honesty, some of the things that make it imperfect are part of what makes it so near and dear to my heart.

(I will say, though, that I definitely indulged that impulse to go back and edit occasionally, since it helped refresh my memory as I wrote and scratch that itch. It was just important not to fall into a trap of only doing that instead of writing, too).

I tried to do a few scenes out of order, but found that never worked for me, I think in part because I was figuring out a lot of things as I went along. I'll still, occasionally, write out the bit in a fic that I really, really want on the page if I feel like I can't continue writing without getting it out first, but that version of it virtually never ends up in the final piece.

Other things that were important for me . . .

Finishing the fic before I posted it. Other folks can write and post as they go. I can't. I don't usually figure out everything until I'm basically done, and at that point I need to go back and rewrite and add bits to make the whole thing work. I think some of the chapters I didn't have in the first solid draft of my finished fic would surprise people. The unfinished fics on my old FFN profile are a testament to this - there's more than one I stopped there because I wrote myself into a corner I couldn't figure out how to get out of, or took on something that was way too ambitious or went in a direction I found I ultimately didn't want to go.

It also helped me avoid feeling that intense pressure of not wanting to disappoint people that were reading. Like, that was still there, but because the fic was functionally done, it didn't impact my ability to finish writing it, if that makes sense, and instead really impacted how I approached editing it instead.

But posting with space between the chapters mattered, too, since it allowed me to read people's comments which sometimes brought up things I hadn't considered and that I occasionally (but not always) worked into the fic later. One of the comments from dp-marvel 94, I think, had a huge impact on me when it came to how I approached the epilogue. While some parts of the epilogue didn't change much from my initial draft, a not so small part did, and I am much, much happier for the change since it really helped to tie up Danny's character growth and some of the themes I'd written into the fic.

(I suspect a beta-reader could have helped with that, but I was too anxious/terrified to ask anyone to be honest even as I knew it would probably make the fic better).

I also let my fic sit for like a month after I finished it without touching it, and then I went back and reread the entire thing, which helped me realize what I was missing, things I should added, deleted bits that I should also put back in (I never, ever permanently delete anything I write. I have a ton of documents that are an absolutely bonkers amount of pages full of stuff I deleted, if only because sometimes I realize that there are bits of those things that can be salvaged or worked in later).

And honestly? I just type fast. That's not terribly helpful advice and I know it, but it means I can indulge a lot of the vague ideas/thoughts I have without feeling like it's setting me back much since I can easily write a few thousand words in an hour.

Really, though, it's thinking about what you want to do with the fic and pushing through the anxiety/fear/perfectionism or whatever other thing is stopping you from finishing, and picking an idea that you love enough that you want to see it through to the end despite the blood, sweat, and tears you'll be pouring into it.

[frankiehagg]

writing journal: i'm restarting my manuscript from scratch, again

i just finished the fifth week of my second go at grad school. i am studying to become a translator! it is so great and uses my skills as a researcher, writer, and editor SO well, in ways i hadn't predicted. it has also, until this week, DECIMATED my capacity for non-school reading and writing. it's been so nice to pick up a non-assigned book, of fiction, about people who aren't real. missed this.

as my skills develop away from the crisis mode of learning a new skill, lean into my existing editorial skills, and leave me more free time, i find myself having time to fall into The Bad Mood, which happens when i'm not being sufficiently creative. so tonight is my rip roaring friday night of... starting the seventh draft of my six-years-in-the-making book manuscript, from scratch, again.

some FAQ about my intense journey with this manuscript:

Q: WHAT KEEPS GOING WRONG WITH THIS BOOK?

A: fundamentally, nothing. the story was too character-heavy in its first incarnation and dealt with themes that have been progressively less interesting to me. more accurate to say that my skills develop at a pace faster than the manuscript does. i don't mean this as a flex; i've averaged ~7k a month on this manuscript for years & other projects have naturally developed my skills along the way

Q: SEVERAL OF YOUR LAST DRAFTS HAVE ONLY BEEN 5-10k BEFORE YOU SCRAPPED THEM. WHY? ARE YOU *SURE* NOTHING'S WRONG WITH THIS BOOK?

A: i uh... ok, everything's wrong with this book. the themes are wrong. the beloved characters i have retained along the way no longer fit the story—at least one of them, the main character as i imagined her, needs to join the 350k pile of killed darlings, and the others need to undergo serious relevance editing. the logic of the setting is quite thin. my style is also "broke" on the scale of broke to bespoke; my skills are better now, so now every time i write this piece the voice is unbearably weak and uncompelling. fixing voice has been the main impetus for these endless restarts, and i haven't found one that both sounds good and works with the setting.

most egregiously: as the themes and setting are developed, the plot breaks and breaks and breaks.

i've been aware of these issues for a while and i hoped writing through them would fix my problems. not so. now that i've had a nice monthlong break from writing (at least, anything that wasn't translated from the original french), i opened my document and... didn't like what i saw. i opened my wiki and didn't like what i saw. i opened my file of short story ideas and—saw a theme. a theme that works very well with the setting i've been trying to develop, overhauls everything, and gives me a fresh lens from which to spawn new characters or refresh old ones with new purposes.

the first thing i am doing is scrapping everything. all meta material—gone. new scrivener file. new wiki file (i use obsidian for wikis, which i wrote at more length about here). i'll keep the old stuff for reference, but this is a new world for a new story. i am entering only with a vague understanding that this is a science fantasy story, both hero's journey and tragedy, and... isn't NOT about the john searle–jacques derrida debate.

it'll be good, i swear!

the second thing i am doing, for the first time in my life, is attempting to write a COMPLETE, COMPREHENSIVE outline—i am normally a cheerful planner-pantser combo—before i write a single word of prose. i am hoping this will help me identify areas of weakness before i invest a ton of words only to meet a dead end. since my time is at more of a premium than it used to be, i'll be able to mull things over longer-term and hopefully come to the file on weekends with developed ideas.

the third (and final?) thing i'm doing is to identify elements of style that i particularly vibe with in *reading* and make a point to run 20-minute style drills when i can carve out a spare moment, and keep them in a separate file for reference when it comes time to actually put down prose. i'm hoping this will help me hit the ground running with a style that motivates me to keep writing it, and prevent more style-related dead ends as well.

there are a lot of different ways to outline. beat sheets have helped me in the past, including save the cat and romancing the beat. increasingly i am moving away from beat sheets as structural crutches, but having a visual guide for the outline stage is still useful to me.

there's the kind of intensely complicated outlining tool like MOTT, but every time even i, a detail-loving methodical research type, open this spreadsheet, get scared, and close out again. instead i'm going to try a combination of the snowflake model and the ring structure as i try to feel my way toward a setting-relevant plot: my snowflake is going to have five act-sized points to start, and from there i will develop smaller and smaller details until i have a narrative outline that is also symmetrical for that "the hero comes home but they can never come home again because their home is NOTHING LIKE THEY THOUGHT IT WAS" kind of journey i'm going for.

i do NOT know if this is a good idea, it might NOT work, i might wind up with a rambling scrivener outline that is basically just a summary of the plot the way i have tried and burned out of in the past. but it'll be fun! let's try new things! failure is liberating in that failing again doesn't feel that bad! that's true, right? that's definitely true.

if you don't hear from me again i've gotten lost in the outline mines, but know i died as i lived: upset that my manuscript still isn't working.

(first posted in a slightly simplified format on mastodon).

[leseigneurdesinferieurs]

Random Storytime You Didn’t Want 1: The Time I Wrote A Poem About M*sturbation

Once upon a time I wrote a poem about the urge to m*sturbate. Not sure if censoring is needed but ah why not. Sometimes I try to write something serious with some meaning behind it but sometimes (especially now) I’ll throw in something funnier. However this case was different.

It was one of those days where it felt like nothing was going correctly and honestly I was in a very depressed mood. It wasn’t a positive mindset day and therefore as I would usually do anyways I sat down in the evening coming up with writing ideas and of course writing. Whether it’s poetry or regular prose I find that the evening is really my time where the ideas come so I can write something or carry those ideas into the next day and write while eating my lunch or something. That evening I was trying to write a poem hoping to make myself feel better by venting in verse form but I was sort of mentally constipated in a way. I’m not sure it was writer’s block because I could write something but it just wasn’t clicking. When I write I often write multiple versions and go for whichever clicks as it’s just what works for me and then if I need to improve certain parts or lines or sentences I do. Well it wasn’t clicking that night and before I knew it I got too tired and laid down somewhere and fell asleep.

I say ‘somewhere’ as my recollection of that evening and how I slept it very hazy and blurred which is why I probably ended up waking up confused at what I had written. I am led to believe I first slept on my living room sofa and it took me multiple minutes to wake up which caused me to spring up suddenly and briefly frighten my mother. After that I went upstairs and slept in my usual bed. Now for the actual important part of the story! I woke up feeling refreshed and after waking up grabbed my phone and the first thing that was open was the notes app where I often write. Upon viewing the screen I laid my eyes upon a poem I didn’t recognise but was first greeted by the title… ‘Jerk It’.

At first I told myself I couldn’t have written what I thought the title was suggesting so before even reading it I googled if there were any poems with that title. There were not. At least not that I could find and so I pushed myself to read it and holy… it was a poem about having the urge to m*sturbate and how if we all just did it a bit more the world would be a much happier place so let’s all m*sturbate in unison. Now to quickly defend myself no I was not… doing that and no the poem is not an actual belief I hold. One of the drafts in there I think was poking fun at those videos online of ‘oh guys stare at me in the gym’ but of course dirtily. Is that a word? Maybe. It was nonsensical. Dirty, sexual, vulgar… all of that sort of thing. I told some friends what I had seemingly done (not sharing the poem of course) and just moved on from it. I still joke about it and when people ask ‘what is the wordy thing you’ve written’ I normally answer ‘Jerk It’ and have to explain what it is.

Often I debate with myself about posting it on here or putting it in one of my anthologies which arguably it could be suited to one of the newer ones where I’m trying to be vulgar and controversial but I’m not sure if it’s too much. By many standards I’m sure a lot of the modern generation wouldn’t consider it that bad when it comes to the sexual content but it just felt like a lot especially when you just woke up to find out you wrote it while in some half asleep state. In fact I’m not sure I still have it saved or if it’s fully written and able to be released in a complete state.

On the notes folder or whatever you want it call it there were different drafts and ideas for the poem thrown about. For example there was a version of it that had a chorus and was more of a ballad style poem. One of them involved different situations where it would be inappropriate to ‘Jerk It’ which very well may have been the one with the chorus.

Today however I think the poem did have an influence on me as the idea of writing a poem or poems that aim to shock and be inappropriate is something I’ve been throwing in more for my fictional alter ego in my new anthology. Perhaps one day ‘Jerk It’ will see the light of day once again or perhaps it just goes to show… we all need a healthy amount of sleep.

[pegasus-ghost]

So, my plot is COMPLETE.

Remember around a year ago, i said i just finished writing my novel which i delayed for 10 years? I think I finished it on Oct 2021. Then i had like, fresh ideas, rough ideas for the second book, where i expand the plot further.

My first book was very straight forward with a simple revenge plot. I didn't want to create too complicated of a novel because i was trying to commit myself to finish my 10 year delayed novel, so i allowed myself to finish it on easy mode, give it an easy plot.

It was done and i was happy.

Then when I got those rough ideas for the second book to continue the plot, expand it, i had big dreams. Big ideas. I want this to be way better than the first one, way bigger, but not too complicated still so i can keep track of things.

I immediately have a rough sketch of the characters, the main skeleton of the plot but not the entire thing. I can see there's still plenty of loopholes here and there. There's still empty spaces. I was still blur on characters of the new plot, their motives. In order to plan a full fleshed out plot, i will need to understand these characters, their backgrounds, their motives that pushes them into doing what they do which will move the gears of the plot forward, heading to the main story and climax. There has to be a main plot, and plenty of sub conflicts around it that builds around the main plot and move the story. I had plenty of ideas here and there but I failed to combine these pieces into a full story that makes sense.

I was stuck for a very long time. An entire year. My initial plan was to rest from writing in Nov 2021, then start planning in Dec 2021, and probably write in Jan 2022. But noooo, i was wrong. I was stuck. I couldn't figure out how to write and move the plot because i didn't understand the full plot and character motives myself.

I spend a YEAR being stuck. I wanted to write, but i don't wanna fuck up the plot later down the line with various loopholes. I was still in a very early stage of the story, so there was still chances for me to really build a strong starting story. I learned my lesson from my first novel where i barely plan anything. I was 18 or 19 when I started the novel. I was a kid and an idiot. So the starting novel appeared very childish and weak. I don't wanna make that mistake again so i allowed myself time to really think about the plot and plan the conflicts first before I even start.

Then Allah gave me an idea to read my old story i wrote of these characters when I was 14 until 17. The initial idea for this novel came to me when I was 14, so in order to learn who the characters are, it's best to read how i wrote them back then.

And after I read them, Allah immediately granted me pouring ideas on the plot and story building for my second book! Alhamdulillah. It was so fucking refreshing tho, the ideas poured in like a waterfall once I got to know the characters. Then i spend hours for 3 days segregating and labelling the main conflicts in the story and draft the entire plot of each conflicts, based on the point of views of all the main characters involved in that conflict.

Then i got to a part of this one interesting character i discovered in my old book when I wrote when I was 17. The initial book i wrote before I started the novel. I wanted to link this character with the main character for a very long time but I couldn't quite grasp how, given the vastly different background, time and place for the two.

Then. A miracle happen.

It felt like a light switch. Like LITERALLY a light bulb moment! My brain immediately thought of an extremely GENIUS idea to link the two characters in the plot and IT NEVER CROSSED MY MIND IN ANY WAY. it was super genius that i knew for a FACT that u wouldn't have been able to come up with such idea myself.

I instantly knew it was from Allah. Allah was watching me, and He helped me. Allah is super intelligent and He saw i needed an idea for the plot and He instantly dropped this genius idea in my head to create the plot.

I was super shocked.

Super impressed, at how intelligent Allah was to be able to see a PERFECT SOLUTION to build this conflict and plot.

I praised Allah again and again and again and proceed with writing for hours, drafting those ideas down before I forget them. The more i wrote down, the more ideas came to mind, good ones too! One after another after another. I immediately knew Allah was helping me out and giving me all these points for the conflicts. I praised Him again and jot them all down.

And then it was over. I have finally wrote down ALL of the conflicts drafts. Allah helped me in figuring out how the full story would look like, based on these conflicts. The conflicts fits each other so perfectly that i can see it moving the gears of the main plot.

Subhanallah. Seriously. I'm not kidding. Allah is super freaking intelligent and I am so impressed and touched as to how Allah helped me figure these out in a matter of hours of something i cracked my head on figuring for a year before.

Sigh. Thank you Allah. Thank you. Alhamdulillah.

Next is to write a second draft on adding fine details to the plot, and then we write.

[sabraeal]

He Who Studies Evil [Part 3/4]

Part 1 | Part 2

A prequel to Wanting Is More Pleasurable Than Having (And Other Things Vulcans Don’t Know a Damned Thing About), written for @bubblesthemonsterartist. Also many thanks to @claudeng80 for reading this over this whole fic for Star Trek mistakes since it had been...many many years since I’d seen a DS9 episode, and memory alpha can only do SO MUCH

It takes a week for the other shoe to drop.

It had only been a matter of time; tensions were high on Terok Nor, and negotiations had slowed to a crawl. Diplomacy had never interested him quite as much as the other subjects at the academy, and every minute he spends in the board room with Gul Dukat and his cronies, he’s reminded of why.

The prefect seems to take great joy in arguing over every concession, over every word, and at times it’s only Sui’s level head that sees them through the meeting without incident. It’s as if the Gul sees this armistice as a wish on a monkey’s paw -- meant to be worded with the utmost care, or else it will come around and bite you in the end.

Haruka groans. There’s probably some Cardassian saying about that too. God knows he’s heard nearly all of them, sitting across from that man.

“Here he is, Ambassador,” the constable tells him, bringing Shidnote forward with a none-too-gentle shove. “I hope, for your sake, cooler heads prevail in the board room.”

“I’ll see to it they do,” Haruka assures him, catching Shidnote around the elbow. “You know young men and their tempers.”

The constable is a strange looking man, features oddly rounded near the nose and brow, but he still manages a glare that make Haruka hope he won’t be dealing with the constabulary again. “No. I do not.”

The room has been silent for minutes now, Shidnote perched on his torture contraption of a bed and Haruka just standing there, hoping a solution would present itself.

“You may have lost us this treaty, you know,” he manages, though that’s hardly his concern. “I understand how you must feel, cooped up with the Gul and his men day after day, but you cannot just pop off at the first overseer that strikes a nerve.”

“Not to put too fine a point on it, sir--” the word comes out twisted, a mockery -- “but you have no idea how I feel.”

Haruka’s mouth thins. He does not miss being this young, not one bit. “I think you will find I know more than you think. You may tell Councilor Wisteria that if she means to scrub a file, she should hire someone with a better grasp of subterfuge.”

That makes Shidnote take notice, finally.

“I know about Lido,” he says, “and I know about Bajor, and I have suspicions about the Kohn-Ma --”

“I didn’t join the Kohn-Ma,” Shidnote grits out. “I was already fighting against butchers, I didn’t need to become one.”

“That, at least, I’m glad to hear.” Haruka sits, taking the chair at the desk. “I suspect you have your orders, though.”

He grimaces, only for a moment, but it’s enough. “Orders? I’m only --”

“It’s no good, Ensign,” he tells him with a bemused wave, “I know the Councilor too well. She sent me on my own secret mission as well.”

“The kid?” Shidnote asks with a wince.

Haruka nods. “The child, yes. Have you heard anything?”

“Just rumor.” The man shrugs, looking uncomfortable in his operations yellow. “I thought I might hear something a Quark’s--”

“The gambling den?”

His shoulders twitch. “You know how it is, men drink there, get sloppy...”

“A little too sloppy, it seems,” Haruka remarks. The boy flinches. “I won’t be able to take you back in the board room.”

“Oh no,” Shidnote deadpans. “Please. No. You can’t.”

“All right, all right.” He’d laugh, if there were any humor left in him, but Terok Nor has drowned the last of it right out. “Enough of that. There’s no need for theatrics.” He fixes him with a warning look. “I do, however, expect you to stay in your quarters until further notice.”

“But--”

“You may continue your inquiries as long as you take Sui,” Haruka tells him, enjoying the way the ensign’s jaw drops.

“Sui?” he squeaks, incredulous. “But he couldn’t be subtle if the Federation depended on it.”

“You’ll take him anyway. He needs the practice if he wants to go into command.” Haruka gives him a sharp smile. “And besides, I think he’ll be a good influence on you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he says, creaking up to standing, “I think I have a Ferengi to apologize to.”

He, of course, does not apologize to the Ferengi. Firstly, because the man runs a gambling establishment of dubious legality with dabo girls who are little better than indentured servants, and he is no stranger to hot heads and even hotter tempers; secondly, every Ferengi expects to be consoled in gold-pressed latinum, and there just isn’t room for it in the Federation’s budget. Ever.

Instead, he buys a drink. By his math, that makes him and the proprietor even.

The Gamzian wine hits him quick, and for the first time in days he feels like he can breathe, that whatever muscles have been holding him ramrod-straight this whole time can suddenly relax. He leans over, resting his head on the bar, and lets out a long, heartfelt sigh.

“Feeling all right there, ambassador?” oozes a voice across from him, and perfect, he’s caught his host’s attention. “Not that I want to discourage your continued patronage, but I must remind you that we have a firm ‘no returns’ policy.”

Haruka raises his head, and wonders if the man is suffering from some sort of aphasia. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if you are going to upchuck, as you humans so quaintly call it, you’ll have to leave.” He tugs at his jacket, as if it gives him some small measure of authority and -- well, it is his bar. He’s probably as close as one comes, in a place like this.

“I’ve only had the one drink,” he replies, annoyance seeping through his words. “I was only...relaxing.”

“Well, now.” The man leans over the counter, as if he’s about to let him in a trade secret. “If relaxation is what you’re looking for, friend, come no further. We have holosuites upstairs with the finest fantasies made by the Brothers Quark.”

Haruka only just manages to bite back a grimace. A night of fantasy conceived by a Ferengi man’s mind seems like something destined to be vulgar, if not disturbing. Taste was not something the Rules of Acquisition required or encouraged.

“I’m satisfied with the drink,” he assures his host. “It’s not even finished.”

“Well, you’re welcome to anything on the menu,” the Ferengi tells him. “Just make sure if you order anything new, you come ask for me, Quark. I am well-traveled, but my brother--” he makes a wavering gesture with his hand-- “We don’t get many of your kind out this way. Wouldn’t want you swilling down poison, now would we? Though I’d still let you buy it, if you wanted.”

“How gracious of you.” Kain must have planned this. There was no other reason how he would end up prolonged contact with a Ferengi.

“Business is business,” he shrugs. “Though I suppose allowing that sort of thing doesn’t exactly encourage repeat business. But the customer is always right. Ah, a complex philosophy.”

It would not be hyperbole to say that poison was looking to be an agreeable option the longer he sat here. “Quite.”

“I’d ask what brings you here, Ambassador, but I don’t think anyone on this station doesn’t know.” This...Quark takes a friendly lean, smile baring the sharp rows of his teeth. “Trying to bring the Cardassians into the Federation, eh? A hard sell, I’d say. They don’t bow to anyone but the Union. And the Obsidian Order, but well, it’s all one in the same really.”

He can only stare, stupefied. Aside from the vendors, there was hardly a person on this station that was not a Cardassian or a Bajoran, and yet a rumor like this had spun up: that after years of firing shots over the border, the Federation would try to bring the limping Union into the fold. If only he could trace those words back, if he could find whether they were words of the fearful Cardassians or the disgruntled Bajorans --

Ah, but it wouldn’t matter, not unless the idea was popular enough to leverage it against Gul Dukat. He may not know much about the Union itself, but he was certain that they had no interest in yielding up Cardassia to any other interests. Conquerors did not often enjoy becoming the conquered.

It would make a certain amount of sense on the Federation’s part, of course; they had managed the alliance with the Kingons decades ago, if not brought them fully in, and doubtlessly it would be part of the long-term plan. However....

He couldn’t see it. They would be lucky for the armistice to happen at all if Gul Dukat kept trying to negotiate as he was, as if the Union were in the stronger position and not merely a smaller force that had thus far gotten lucky in their engagements.

No, not lucky. Their strategies were tight, and their discipline superior to Starfleet. But they lacked the sheer manpower available to the Federation, and eventually those overwhelming odds would come to bear. Cardassia could not continue to lose ships, not as they had been.

“Is that s--?”

“Rom!” Quark snaps, whirling on one of the Ferengi hovering nearby. “Stop staring and get back to work!” He turns back to Haruka with an ingratiating smile. “You’ll have to excuse my brother, ambassador. As I’ve said, he doesn’t get out much. Never seen an adult human before.”

He nearly waves it off -- it wouldn’t be his first time he’s been a physiological oddity, not by a long shot, but -- his breath catches. “An adult human? Do you mean to say he’s seen a child?”

His host hesitates, and Haruka can see the gold-pressed latinum in his eyes. “Why, I have to say, it could be, but...the old memory isn’t working as good as it used to. We Ferengi live a long time, after all. These brains are big but...well...I can’t hold on to everything...unless I think it might be important...”

Let it never be said Haruka doesn’t know the prompt for a bribe when he hears one. He drops a few slips of latinum on the bar.

“Oh, the boy! The human boy!” Quark nods, pocketing the bars. “He’s been here a long while, far as I know. They walk him around the promenade every once and a while, just so we all know what happens when you defy the Union.” He leans in, whispering behind a hand, “Though you’d have to be a fool to keep your children here, if you ask me.”

Only the vestiges of his common sense keep him from flying to his feet, from giving this Ferengi far more leverage than is wise. “Do you know where they keep him?”

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly gu--” a handful of slips drop to the counter -- “the torture cells would be my guess. The constable is no friend of mine, but I doubt he’d let a boy like that in his brig.”

“Thank you,” he says, rising stiffly from his seat. “You’ve been more help than you could imagine.”

Quark’s mouth parts in another of his sharp smiles. “Then might I ask you to consider...a little more gratitude.”

The man leans over, jiggling a tip jar. Oh, how he hates Ferengi.

Shidnote’s barely said “Come in,” when Haruka steps through, taking in the two ensigns seated on the bed, both bent over the same PADD.

“Captain!” Sui yelps, scrambling to his feet. “I’m afraid we haven’t had a lot of time to --”

“Doesn’t matter now,” he snaps, turning his attention to Shidnote. The boy’s getting to his feet, but slowly, a belligerent expression on his face. “Do you know where the torture cells are?”

He blinks. “On a station like this? Sure.”

Haruka steps aside, sweeping his hand toward the door. “Then lead away.”

“Ambassador!” The Cardassian dogs his heels, dodging Shidnote and Sui as they trail along in his wake. “You’re not supposed to be down here! This is a restricted area, for senior officers only!“

Haruka barrels on; it’s the only way to deal with men like this, denying them the inch they need to take a mile. “I’m sorry, I don’t read Cardassian.”

There’s a pack of guards following him, each collected from the doors they watch along the hall, but despite their numbers they do not touch him, only lag just behind him and his ensigns, as if humans dripped poison. Perhaps they might as well, for the dressing down they would get if one of them came to harm.

One does dare, as they approach another door, and Shidnote whacks the hand away, giving him a warning look. “Ambassador, please,” the man tries instead, “you cannot be down here! You must leave!”

“Then arrest me,” he grunts, coming to the one door that doesn’t swish open at his passing. “And if you won’t, then open this door.”

His collection of Cardassians all look at each other, nervous. They must have sent for Gul Dukat by now, but the prefect is not here, and he is. According to protocol, he is the acting authority in this particular hallway, and there is nothing the Union loves more than obeying the hierarchy.

For a long moment, no one moves, as if they think they might be able to wait this out, that Gul Dukat might be able to make himself the through the bowels of this station in time to keep them from having to obey a Federation ambassador.

“You heard him” Shidnote snaps, jerking his head. “Open the door.”

Finally one surges forward, lips pressed so thin that gray turns white, and as the door opens he says, “This will cost me my life.”

It’s dim in this room, and it’s only with the ambient light spilling in from the hall that Haruka makes out the cells which line the wall. As his eyes adjust, he just makes out a small, hunched figure rounded over in a cell. Even through the distorted static of the force field, he sees the wild bristle of a head, the shivering spine of a child.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” he manages, hands fisted so tight his knuckles crack, “but I don’t give a single fuck about your safety.”

Sui and Shidnote slip through the door before him, and in moments Sui is holding up his scanner, face entirely too pale.

“It’s -- he’s human, sir,” he gasps, “and -- and alive.”

“Not for long, if the Cardassians have their way about it,” Shidnote grumbles, pacing in front of the force field like he’s the one caged.

“Open this,” Haruka demands, Still, the Cardassians hang back, somehow less eager to help, even now. “Perhaps I have not made myself here. You have been, at the least, complicit in the illegal incarceration and perhaps torture of a human child under the auspice of the Federation. Your lives will all be forfeit, if you don’t suddenly start being uncomplicit right now.”

That gets them moving.

[magnus-sm-writes]

My Writing Journey: The Driving Years

When I was fifteen, I watched the movie ParaNorman all the way through for the first time and realized that being an asshole just because you’d been hurt in the past wasn’t fair to everyone else. I think that shows in my writing. Things began to get a little more optimistic as I had a complete character change.

So, I had gone through quite a bit of character growth myself. I was rapidly changing into a (somewhat) better and more interesting person. My life was becoming more complicated, and so was my work. It was very difficult for me to remember what exactly I did in these two years, since all of it sort of blends together. I was in an incredibly toxic friend group for a lot of these years, and writing was my escape, my way to criticize what was happening.

I believe this was when I came up with the ideas for my novella He’s Like an Ocean and the original germination of Hamish. 

HLAO holds a special place in my heart as being the first story that came from a dream. It is (recent) historical fiction following two blind boys, Lester and Guy, falling in love. HLAO was my first complete romance novel(la). 

Part of the reason HLAO is so important to me is that, for some time, it was my refresher between projects. I would finish something and then rewrite a draft of HLAO. It was my transitional work. Quick and easy to write. Much shorter than all the novels I was working on at the time. 

When it came to Hamish, I had decided that Hamlet would get the same treatment as R&J. I was more passionate about Hamlet, and had more knowledge on it. But I wouldn’t begin to write Hamish until I was seventeen, I believe. 

I also began to get an interest in short stories. My first complete short story was written sometime during an August, I just have difficulty remembering which one. It was a reflection of my (very bad) mental state at the time regarding said toxic friend group, and an outpouring of violence borne from watching way too much NBC Hannibal for my own good. 

(And the first instance of a trope that has become very common in my works: arson!)

“Phoenix in a Bear Trap” is a revenge/metamorphosis story. Originally, it was quite melodramatic and disjointed, but I am pleased to say that it did win me a small scholarship in my university. I’m planning on revising it someday soon. (Which, of course, means any time between now and when I die.)

I also wrote a piece of flash fiction called “Fish Toes” that dealt with my (still very real) fear of drowning. It is… not good and definitely needs reworked before I drag it back up.

I was also at my most feminine (and repressed) at this point in time. While I thought I was happy, I was lying to myself. It reflected rather heavily in my writing, which dealt with mental illness and this overwhelming feeling of isolation. Not knowing what was wrong with me (so many things, like holy shit), I thought I was the biggest freak in the world. 

In 2018 (when I was fifteen going on sixteen), I made some hardcore revisions to WADAA. It was no longer a teenage angst story; it was a college angst story. By putting Kam in college (and making him best friends with Zach Amsel), I could make a far more compelling narrative and give him a lot more freedom. This was the first time that I realized that WADAA had been stuck because it hadn’t happened at the right point in the timeline. It was not a story about death; it was a story about healing. 

To make Kam feel like less of a self-insert, I made him trans and autistic. This, of course, is laughable now. I just made him more like me (when I would be in college) without knowing it. Life reflects art, huh?

This new version of WADAA needed a new name, though. It couldn’t be the same book when everything had changed. In 2019, I finally came up with a new name: Lessons in Humanity from a Future Physicist. Wordy, yes, but it fit the book perfectly. It was about Kam learning how to be human, something I have yet to learn how to do. 

Lessons in Humanity is kind of my baby. I’ll talk more about it in the section on being eighteen, but it really was a project that grew with me. It still is. I think about it often, and when I’m in need, I fall back on it. It’s been my baby for about ten years now.

From 2018 to 2019, I was pumping out novels left and right. I wrote Hamish, Lessons in Humanity, Jeez Take the Wheel, and various versions of He’s Like An Ocean. I was in a constant state of rewriting that continued on into 2020. 

Each time I finished a project, I would start a fresh rewrite of HLAO (again, I cannot overstate how many times I rewrote that thing), and upon finishing that, I would move on to the next task. It wasn’t particularly sustainable, or healthy. I didn’t give myself a lot of time to decompress or germinate ideas.

And then I got sick.

What happened was: I developed bronchitis in summer of 2019. It was made worse by a forty hour band camp week, followed by lots of marching band practices (where I was the low brass section leader), community college, high school, and my job at McDonald’s. I got super stressed out super fast, and my health kept declining. I developed an ulcer. I lost about fifteen pounds, which made me underweight for my height. It was not good for me. The marching band environment was absolutely toxic that year, as was McDonald’s. I was burning myself out trying to write as much as possible just to stay sane.

Basically, I hard rebooted in November. I quit McDonald’s, and marching band was over. I gave myself some time to heal. By spring, I felt like a brand new person, ready to tackle the world!

That was, until the world tackled me back again, because that was spring of 2020.

[a-lil-perspective]

70 Encouragements/Tips For The Writer:

A/N: Rules don’t exist. These are real and personal and stem from a deteriorating, exhausted Writer who is here to tell you (and herself) that you are amazing and keep going. I hope you find some encouragement within.

Your mental health comes first and foremost.

Indulge and embrace your creative writing pieces when they come (and when they don’t). Especially when they don’t.

Suffering from Writer’s Block or fluctuating hyperfixation? Me too. So is your favorite author. Welcome to the Writer’s Block Party (all my uwus if you see the pun).

Did you spend five hours on this one segment, forget the last time you ate, develop chapped lips, dry eyes, and a stiff back (time to get up and move), bang your head on the wall, laugh, cry, fidget, take your ADHD meds, deviate to watch YouTube, have an epiphany, curse in frustration and wonder why the hell you do this to yourself? Congratulations, you’re a Writer.

Embrace all the not-so-glamorous sides of writing, and accept the fact they’re going to happen time over again.

When you say “just one more line” and it’s 2:00 AM, I’ll be here to remind you to “go to sleep” (because I’m also depriving myself lol).

Actually, sleeping helps your mind feel refreshed, and it’s good for your health. If you’re struggling with a particular segment, one of the best things you can do is just put a cap on it for the time being, put in a placeholder, and get some shut eye. I know you don’t want to. But you will feel so much better and have more clarity and energy to continue when you wake. Trust me.

More often than not, those words you “just didn’t write down fast enough and now forgot” end up revealing themselves to you later in a much more profound way. Give the words time to get ready. They’re just spiffing up before coming to visit. :)

Be proud of yourself and your prose. Writing is an amazing part of who you are.

That trope has been written 1000 times before? Make it 1001.

You’ve already written this scenario? Write it again.

You’ve just written a single sentence. Now sit back for moment and think: you just wrote something brand new, never before seen. Nobody out there will ever write that sentence or formulate those thoughts the exact same way. You are a unique, mind-blowing, awe-inspiring human being.

Bask in the excitement that comes with a completed piece. Reflect on what you learned throughout and celebrate the little victories.

Don’t be afraid to ask for feedback, but also understand that you might not always get it, and that is OK.

Please re-read your work. Be gentle with yourself. You had to write that very first piece to get to where you are now. Love the process.

Your personal writing success is not based off of kudos or likes or reblogs.

There is no right or wrong way to write.

There is no such thing as “good” writing.

Improvement is becoming of everyone so get comfy, strap in. The journey of a Writer is a lifelong one. Here’s to many more works ahead.

Don’t mourn the words you did or didn’t write. Celebrate the ones you will.

One day, you’ll read a piece that will blow you away—and it will be yours.

There is nothing “shameful” about reblogging your own writing works.

I promise you’ll find your “wow” piece—either in something you’ve already written, or something yet to come.

Baby. Please don’t write out of spite. You’re better than that.

You are just as valid/deserving as the next Writer. And you do belong.

If you feel sad/unworthy when sharing your works or interacting with others’, get to the root of why. Writing should be fun, rewarding, and relaxing. Not shameful, embarrassing, or a chore.

Writing (fanfiction, specifically) is labeled as “transformative works”. Self-explanatory, right? However, if you notice the transformative part begin to have a personal effect on you—a negative one—it’s time to take a step back.

Right now, I can name a single quality you possess: diligence. How do I know? Because you’re a Writer, and the two go hand-in-hand.

Got that single scene in your head but you haven’t completed or even began all the chapters preceding? Bruh. Jot that down right now. You don’t need 20k words beforehand.

Embrace your writing mood swings. The stray, sweet and condensed blurbie. The ideal, bridging drabble. The solid, substantial oneshot. The hefty, elaborate 10k word chapter. Appreciate everything in-between, and that you are capable of all of it.

Nobody remembers that extra word or typo or stray speech mark back all the way back in chapter 3. Tell the little monster in your head to go to hell.

You’re not a weirdo for making facial expressions and mulling through your dialogue aloud. You. Are. A. Writer.

It’s OK if the Readers can’t always see exactly what you envisioned in your head, or the full extent of the picture you painted. We all see colors differently.

Don’t be afraid to experiment with your writing.

In fact, challenge yourself to dabble into a new plot/trope/concept every day, even if only for a few minutes. You may discover you love writing it.

There’s no rush to finish/begin any written work. If you take your time, you will make your mark. You’re not falling behind or running late. Slow down and wait for it. :)

Three cheers for hiatus.

Listen to your body and mind, know your limits and when it’s time to take a break.

Actually take a break. :)

If you feel like you’re falling stagnant in creativity, looking to/revisiting other forms of creative media can help encourage the flow.

Ask for encouragement, and be at peace with asking.

Take shelter in fellow writers. Uplift each other always.

You are/will be someone’s favorite author. :)

You don’t have anything to prove. You have something to share.

Someone is thinking about your work right now.

Someone started a series because they drew inspiration from you.

Personal writing style can reflect a lot on the state of one’s mental health. Try to always be attentive to that of your own.

Self-validation must be cultivated early on or nothing will ever work.

Freestyle every once in a while. Write a snippet, timed, and go—without editing. Write the first thing that comes to mind and go from there. Do it all the way through the set time. When it stops, you’ll find yourself unable to. 3,800 words here we come. :)

Not everything needs an outline. :)

It is completely normal to write your story out of order.

Create guidelines for yourself. If they aren’t working, toss ‘em.

Word vomiting can help you feel better (it’s just how it sounds). By clearing all those jumbled thoughts and scattered concepts, you achieve a clearer objective. Try it sometime.

A rough draft is supposed to be rough.

Sometimes the words come to you quicker than others. Be patient. That is merely the construct of a Writer’s mind. You’re a beautiful enigma.

A sentence written is a story progressing.

Writing is an endurance sport. You must pace yourself and exercise it daily.

You are still a Writer even when the words aren’t on the actual page.

You’re not obligated to a writing/posting schedule.

As you progress in your journey and gain more awareness, don’t sacrifice your style. Those beginning works are what define you. Hold onto them and don’t ever let them go.

You’re the only one cringing—

Remember that sometimes words are elusive and you don’t always have control over them, and that is OK. Sometimes they write themselves. Sometimes your characters come to life and break out into dance across your page. Dance with them. You can wrangle them back when the music stops. :)

There is nothing condemning or embarrassing about asking for a beta. Allow someone to help carry the load.

Allow people to cheer you on—even if they don’t read your work.

It’s OK if your writing style isn’t someone else’s preference.

Be your biggest cheerleader. Sometimes you are all you have.

You don’t need anyone’s approval except your own.

You love that trope/concept/story you just wrote? That’s all that matters. The end.

You will never write good. You will write you. And that is good.

Above all else: remember to write for you.🤍

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Lepidopterophobia Prt. Two

Shinobu Kochou x She/Her Reader

A/N: People seemed to like that oneshot so I made a part two! Here is a link to part one if you want a refresher or something (Link). Word Count: ~11,329 (Again, holy shit. I do not know how I wrote so much. I blame the demon encounter that I forced myself to put in this fic and the totally unnecessary OC interaction lol) Hope you enjoy!

Shinobu was getting worried now. It may have been hiding behind sweet smiles and teasing words, but the worry was there nevertheless, churning deep within her like an undercurrent of a seemingly calm ocean cost.

She and (Y/n) had made it a habit to write each other at least once a week since they met about six months ago.

Such letters always made Shinobu feel extremely happy and giddy. Even the estate residents could determine when a letter came simply based on body language alone, although the melodic humming also helped on that front.

Giyuu had even witnessed the change first hand by chance one day and he admitted that it was the freakiest thing he had ever experienced. Especially when she walked past him and actually gave him a compliment before continuing to hum and glide down the hall. Giyuu did not know how to conduct himself in this Shinobu’s presence.

However this week was different, Mochi had not arrived, there was no letter. Shinobu quelled the initial disappointment and anxiety. Surely (Y/n) just had a tiring mission and fell asleep while drafting her message. It wouldn’t have been the first time after all. But when the second week was nearing its end, Shinobu was starting to crack.

She was admittedly a bit unfocused. Her honey sweet tone was still there, but her speech was sharp and clipped. She spent more time in her lab doing research well into the early hours of the morning, becoming more unkempt as another new dawn brought no news.

Aoi made sure Shinobu would eat. She also made it clear that the Hashira needed to be taking better care of herself in general as the young woman sulked her way into the infirmary.

“You’re worrying the younger girls because you look like you’ll collapse at any second and Kanao might not say it, but you’re worrying her too. You’re causing us all distress,” Aoi had told her, not pulling any punches. “(Y/n)-san would not be happy to see you like this.”

“Well, she isn’t here now, is she? She hasn’t been here since her first visit. Why should I care what makes her happy?” Shinobu’s seraphic voice laced with poison replied, an insincere smile painting her lips.

Aoi scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If only I knew, Shinobu-sama. I don’t quite understand you’re attraction to her myself. Maybe you should try writing her again.”

“I’ve already sent two letters. I’m not so desperate for attention to try for a third,” Shinobu responded rigidly. “My crow has always come back empty handed so I know someone is getting my messages. What more is there to do?”

“Didn’t she say in her last letter that demon attacks were becoming more frequent in her sector? Just give her some time. She isn’t that big of an idiot to ignore you on purpose.”

“I’m growing tired of this conversation, Aoi,” Shinobu sighed. “I’ll be going to the lab and I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“As you wish, Shinobu-sama. I’ll send someone over with your dinner later though, and you better eat it.” Aoi replied as Shinobu walked out.

Kanao came to stand by Aoi’s side and flipped her coin, heads. “I have not seen Shinobu-neesan seem so visibly upset in a long time.”

“Yes, she must really like (Y/n)-san a lot, huh?” Aoi frowned, making another bed.

Kanao flipped her coin again, but remained silent this time around.

“Well, that idiot better respond soon. I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

***

Shinobu drowned herself in her research well into the night. Balancing equations, messing with beakers and microscopes and reading copious amounts of botany and organic chemistry texts. She was so absorbed in her work that she didn’t notice the faint tapping at the door that led out onto the engawa from her lab.

The tapping persisted almost frantically as Shinobu inked down some notes until a loud squawking caused her hand to jerk across the parchment and ruin her page. She almost didn’t care though, she leapt from her chair and slid the door open with enough speed for it to clack against the stopper hard enough to echo across the garden.

She beckoned the familiar raven to take perch on her arm, cooing and lightly stroking the feathered breast of the large bird with a sincere smile and hopeful eyes.

“Good evening Mochi,” she cooed softly. “What have you and (Y/n) been up to these past few weeks?”

“(Y/n), (Y/n)!” The bird mimicked, enjoying the head scritches Shinobu was supplying him. He held a leg out toward Shinobu and she deftly untied the parchment from his leg.

“Thank you for this, rest here for awhile. I’m sure my crow wouldn’t mind sharing some snacks with you.”

Mochi cawed excitedly, flapping his way into the corner with Shinobu’s crow who seemed a bit miffed by the disturbance, but ultimately did not mind the presence of the larger bird she had come to know over the last few months.

Shinobu sat back in her writing desk and unfurled the parchment with a slight tremor running through her hands. As she began to read through the letter, concern laced through her features. (Y/n)’s tone was there. The words came off like hers, but the handwriting was unfamiliar, completely off. Each character was shaky, and stray ink splattered the parchment throughout the letter. There was no way (Y/n) actually wrote this.

The suspicious letter contained an apology for tardiness that was spun in a way that made it rather humorous and light without downplaying the seriousness of the apology, a skill Shinobu only knew (Y/n) to have mastered so well. The message continued on to talk about the high number of demons still running rampant in the area and addressed points made in Shinobu’s previous letters, but she still couldn’t get over the hand writing, it just didn’t sit right with her.

“Mochi, did (Y/n) write this?” Shinobu asked, knowing she was asking a lot of the bird to actually try to hold a conversation in a human language.

“No write, can’t write,” the bird croaked while happily eating some berries.

“Why can’t she write?” Shinobu asked, her brow wrinkled with concern.

“Forgot, can’t say, not supposed to,” the raven replied nervously.

“Mochi, what happened, is she hurt?”

Mochi shifted uncomfortably. “Healing, will be okay. Resting.”

“Is that why she didn’t reply sooner, she got hurt?” Shinobu was mostly just saying that to herself as she began eyeing one of her medicine cabinets intently. She walked over to it and opened the cabinet doors now going into full-on healer mode. “She hasn’t said anything in two weeks so it must be serious,” she turned back to the raven who jumped at the intensity of Shinobu’s gaze and attempted to hide behind the much smaller crow. “Tell me what happened Mochi. I need to know what I must bring.”

“Bring?”

“Yes, now how bad she Mochi, please focus.”

“Arms broken. Head hurts. Feverish. I worry, but she says fine.”

“Fine she says, I’ll show her fine,” Shinobu muttered as she packed the necessary materials, a vein protruding angrily from her forehead. “I need to grab some other supplies from the infirmary, don’t move a muscle.” she commanded before practically teleporting out of the lab.

Shinobu grabbed additional medicines and medical supplies, rustling about the cabinets like a tornado until Kanao came in with an inquisitive sheen to her eyes.

Still unnoticed by her adoptive sister, Kanao flipped her coin and only when she was sure of the result, she spoke.

“Nee-san, are you going somewhere?”

“Oh, Kanao,” Shinobu spun around, “I’m glad you’re still up. I’m going on a mission for a few days, maybe longer. Take care of things while I’m gone please.”

Kanao stared blankly for a moment before flipping her coin once more. Looking back up at Shinobu she asked, “Is this about (Y/n)-san?”

Shinobu faltered in her movements slightly, almost undetectable, but not to Kanao’s sharp eyes.

“How could you tell?” Shinobu smiled almost sheepishly, a faint dusting of pink coloring her cheeks. A sign she knew she had been caught.

“You never bring that much medical supplies on missions for simple demon slaying,” Kanao stated plainly. “I know you have been worried about (Y/n)-san lately. Aoi said it was only a matter of time before you took matters into your own hands.”

“I can’t get much past my smart and observant girls, can I?” Shinobu gave her usual default smile, though it looked a bit more prideful than usual. She closed up the final cabinet and secured her medicinal bag over her shoulder. When she approached Kanao she squeezed her shoulders affectionately. “Look out for each other, make sure Naho, Sumi, and Kiyo keep up with their studies as well. I’ll try to be back in two days tops, but it may take longer if (Y/n) insists on being difficult. Goodbye for now, my little sister,” Shinobu released Kanao and waited patiently as the girl looked at the coin in her hand.

“Bye Nee-san, be safe,” Kanao said after a moment. Shinobu’s smile grew especially warm when Kanao had decided to speak on her own without the aid of the coin. With one last nod, Shinobu left the infirmary with a new energy about her.

***

Shinobu ran through the trees until dawn, following after Mochi as he flew above. As much as she wanted to get there as soon as possible, the many sleepless nights over the past two weeks had taken a toll on Shinobu’s physical state. She admonished herself for being so careless. How could she take care of (Y/n) if she couldn’t even take care of herself? She called for Mochi to stop for a moment and the unusual duo took roost on one of the trees thick and gnarled branches.

“How much further?” Shinobu asked, trying to disguise a yawn hidden behind a small hand.

“Be there by midday if rest short,” the bird replied.

Shinobu nodded, drinking a bit of water and stretching before resigning herself to continue on despite her muscles’ protests.

When the sun was at its highest and hottest was when Shinobu saw the weathered home Mochi was circling over. On closer inspection she recognized the insignia of the Wisteria Houses and she couldn’t help but quietly scoff to herself.

“Oh? Hello young lady, how may I help you?”

Shinobu turned and found herself looking down at a frail old woman who was even smaller than her. Realizing she had been staring, Shinobu began to answer the patient woman.

“Good afternoon, I believe you are currently looking over the demon slayer (Y/n), is that correct?”

“(Y/n)-chan? Ah yes, poor girl. She had a rough mission awhile back, she’s lucky she was with a team that night or I’m not sure she would have made it. She’s resting now I believe, but please do come in,” the old woman replied with the sweet raspiness of someone who has lived a full life and turned back towards the house, her hands trembling as she pushed the door open. She ushered Shinobu into a chair and fixed some tea for the exhausted Hashira who graciously accepted the cup.

“It is a rare honor to have a Hashira in my home, may I ask what brings you here?”

“I’m here for (Y/n),” Shinobu answered, assuming that the old woman had simply forgotten already due to her age.

“Yes, is she training under you, a Tsuguko perhaps?”

“Ah, no. She isn’t training under me,” Shinobu denied.

“I apologize, I suppose I just don’t understand then, why a Pillar of the demon slayers is taking time out of her surely busy schedule to tend to a slayer of a lower level who isn’t even under her instruction.” the old woman questioned.

“I’m afraid that is none of your concern.” Shinobu answered with a tight lipped smile. Perhaps this old woman wasn’t as senile as she had previously believed.

“I’m sorry deary, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just that I saw you hopping after (Y/n)-chan’s raven and I thought you may have been the recipient of her sweetly composed letter. She asked me to write it for her you see. She had been fretting over what to say for days the poor thing,” the old woman tutted, raising her own teacup to her lips with a shaky grip.

“I see,” Shinobu nodded. “You are correct though, the letter was for me. That is how I knew that I should come.”

“That’s wonderful, Insect Hashira.” the old woman smiled.

“Hisa-san?”

Shinobu turned expectantly in the direction of the voice she hadn’t heard in months, unaware of the knowing smile the old woman was directing at her.

“Well, come with me young lady. The patient is in no shape to leave her bed,” Hisa explained motioning fo Shinobu to follow her down the hallway. Hisa approached another door and gave it a courtesy knock before sliding the door open.

“Hello (Y/n)-chan, how nice of you to join the world of the living again and look who’s here to visit you...”

Hisa made room for Shinobu to enter the room and the Hashira could feel butterflies fluttering in her stomach as she stepped forward.

“Shinobu!” (Y/n)’s eyes gleamed. She tried to sit up, but Shinobu glided over and pushed her back on the futon.

“Hello (Y/n), we have a lot to talk about,” Shinobu said with a smile, however the dark aura did not go unnoticed by (Y/n) as the heavily bandaged girl shifted her eyes nervously to another corner of the room.

“I’ll give you two some space. Have fun with your girlfriend, (Y/n)-chan,” Hisa waved before shutting the door behind her.

“Sh- We’re not- She’s not my girlfriend!” (Y/n) called back, clearly flustered.

“Oh my (Y/n), have you been embellishing the nature of our relationship?” Shinobu gasped, hiding a teasing smile behind her hand, feigning shock.

“No, of course not!” (Y/n) shook her head, trying to look anywhere that wasn’t Shinobu. She shook her head a bit too furiously, causing her to wince and groan.

Shinobu’s face turned serious as she inspected the bandages wrapped around (Y/n)’s head. Her arms were also tightly bound, slings kept the arms crossed firmly over (Y/n)’s stomach. Shinobu pushed (Y/n)’s hair away from her forehead to get a better look at the blood stained bandage. “When was the last time, Hisa-san was it? When was the last time she changed these bandages?”

“Um, maybe yesterday I think? I’ve been kind of out of it so I’m not totally sure.”

“Someone needs to hold these wisteria locations to higher standards if we really expect anyone to survive in their care,” Shinobu tisked, noting how the loose bandages easily came undone in her fingers.

“Hisa-san does her best, she’s really good honestly, we’ve just been dealing with a lot of demons lately so supplies are thin and more demon slayers have been coming and going than usual,” (Y/n) defended, taking a sharp intake of air when Shinobu’s fingers examined her head wound.

“I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it... This may sting a bit,”

(Y/n) hissed as Shinobu dabbed the head wound with a cold, wet cloth. Washing off the dried blood that was caked there so she could better see the wound. It was more like a large scrape, not a gaping wound as Shinobu had initially feared. “So, care to tell me how this all happened since you neglected to mention it in your letter?”

“Um,” (Y/n) paused to clear her throat, “I’ll try but it’s all kind of fuzzy in my mind.”

“Take your time,” Shinobu encouraged, replacing the bandage on (Y/n)’s head.

“Well, I was with an improvised squad, which isn’t uncommon, but this one guy was not having it,” (Y/n) sighed. “He was acting high and mighty all night. Talking about how the rest of us were slowing him down and just being an arrogant jerk.” (Y/n) recalled, an annoyed look upon her face.

“And how exactly is this leading up to how this all happened?” Shinobu smiled, moving to (Y/n)’s arms to get a proper look at the damage there.

“Oh trust me, he’s a major player in this mess,” (Y/n) huffed. “So anyway, we were tracking this demon, right? We followed its tracks to a cave in the side of the mountain range near a village and turns out there was a whole bunch of them in there—AGH!” (Y/n) jolted, a sharp pain caused by Shinobu yanking her left arm hard and fast, making it crack loudly. “Why the fuck did you do that!?” (Y/n) wheezed.

“Your arm wasn’t properly set. It may push your healing back a bit, but at least when your arm heals it will be in the proper position,” Shinobu explained, now moving her attention to the other arm. “Please continue your story.”

“Alright then,” (Y/n) grumbled, still feeling the bone throb under her skin, “So there was a bunch of them in the cave that came out to attack us and we were outnumbered, but they were relatively low level so it shouldn’t have been a problem. Then that arrogant jerk began using breathing techniques without any regard for the rest of us. He was using stone breathing I’m pretty sure, just one technique after the other and he caused a rockslide!” (Y/n) turned away from Shinobu and had a brief coughing fit from getting so worked up.

“Here, drink this,” Shinobu paused her re-wrapping of (Y/n)’s arms to hold a waterskin of medicated water to (Y/n)’s lips and the slayer graciously accepted, downing almost half the bag.

“Thanks,” (Y/n) sighed.

“You’re welcome,” came Shinobu’s sweet reply.

“So we were having to dodge boulders and fight the demons at the same time. One girl got her ankle slashed, ripped right through her tendon and she couldn’t get out of the way of the rockslide so I was trying to carry her away from the battle zone, but then that idiot got thrown in my direction and had the audacity to use the back of my head as a goddamn springboard to fling himself back into battle and I lost balance and fell forward face first into the dirt. The girl flew out of my arms and rolled a few yards and my arms were out in front of me. Before I could move, a boulder came in and crushed my arms,” (Y/n) explained, looking down at her newly wrapped arms.

“I think I would like to have a word or two with this slayer, is he still in this sector?” Shinobu asked calmly, a dark aura contrasting her tone.

“He is, but I’m afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear what you have to say, he was killed in the battle,” (Y/n) explained. “I didn’t see it, but that’s what Watanabe-san and I were told once we were brought back to safety,”

“Watanabe-san?”

“Oh, she was the slayer with the slashed tendon. We’ve been teamed up a few times in the past. She came here for medical attention but she had family nearby so she’s resting there.”

“She must have be grateful for your help that night, even if you ended up hurt as well, I’m sure she appreciated the effort,” Shinobu smiled as she finished whipping up a tonic for (Y/n)’s aching bones.

“She did, she offered for me to come with her to her uncle’s house but I told her I’d be fine here. I didn’t want to over burden her family.”

“You should have accepted, this place is kind of a dump,” Shinobu whispered with a conspiratorial smirk.

“Shinobu, that’s so rude!” (Y/n) whisper-yelled back at the mischievously smiling Pillar.

“Drink this, you’ll need to build up your strength before we can leave,” Shinobu commanded, pressing the lip of the cup to (Y/n)’s own.

(Y/n) nearly choked on the bitter medicine as Shinobu poured the contents down her throat. She shivered and made a disgusted noise when she finished chugging the mixture.

“That was terrible,” she wheezed, resting her head back down on the pillow.

“Don’t say that (Y/n), you’re hurting my feelings,” Shinobu mocked distress, “I worked so hard to make that for you after all.”

“I’m sorry, did I say terrible? I meant... tolerable, terrific! Thank you for helping me!” (Y/n) fretted, falling for Shinobu’s false grief.

“I’ll forgive you if you come quietly when it’s safe to move you,” she smiled, resting her palms on her knees.

“You keep saying we’re going somewhere. Where are we going? I’m not exactly in fighting shape at the moment,” (Y/n) lifted her slung and bandaged arms off of her stomach for emphasis.

“You’ll continue your recovery back at my estate of course. Did you really think I was going to leave you in this squalor?”

“I really wish you would stop insulting this place, Hisa-san works super hard and she is crazy fast and quiet so she could be anywhere!” (Y/n) shifted her eyes around the room before returning her gaze to Shinobu who seemed unbothered by the information. “I’m fine here, really. You don’t need to worry about me when you probably have more important things to do.”

“Are you questioning my discretion as a Hashira?” Shinobu’s smile grew, but failed to reach her eyes as she peered down at the slayer as if challenging her to speak against her plan again.

“No! Not at all, I just-“

“Great, we’ll leave tomorrow depending on your condition!” Shinobu clapped.

“But, the... the butterflies,” (Y/n) whispered, almost as if just speaking of them would be taken as an invitation to appear.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to protect you in your vulnerable state,” Shinobu smiled more kindly, “Who knows, perhaps we could add exposure therapy to your rehabilitation training.”

“Please don’t,” (Y/n) pleaded.

“I still don’t understand why you dislike butterflies so much. Surely when given the option to fight alone against a demon moon or be in the same room as a butterfly you would pick the latter,” Shinobu cocked her head at (Y/n) who seemed to genuinely be mulling it over and the sight exasperated Shinobu. “Really, (Y/n)? Do you really need to think about it?”

“They just freak me out, okay!” (Y/n) shrugged the best she could, “They flutter around and I can never tell where they’re going! They have those long, skinny legs and creepy eyes and weird curly tongue things it’s just— ugh!” She shuddered.

Shinobu couldn’t help but laugh, making (Y/n) pout and narrow her eyes at her. Even as the tinkling laughter died down Shinobu’s soft expression remained and she allowed herself to smooth over (Y/n)’s hair before gently running a cold knuckle over the bruised skin of the girl’s cheek.

“I’ve missed your antics.” Shinobu sighed, her seraphic voice betraying how tired she was as the small statement slurred together ever so slightly.

“You seem tired, have you been sleeping well?” (Y/n) asked while basking in the attentions of the cool, calloused touch.

“You know how our work goes. I’m fine.”

A knock on the door brought the two girls out of the moment and Shinobu turned her head just as Hisa came in with two bowls of rice and vegetables. Shinobu was briefly impressed by the old woman, of whom she had not sensed an approach.

“Lunch for you two, please enjoy,” Hisa crooned as she set the tray on the low lying table nearby. “And here is bedding and a change of clothes for you should you wish for them Insect Hashira.”

Again Shinobu was a bit perplexed over the old woman’s ghostly ability. How had she not noticed the bundle of fabrics Hisa only now seemed to have carried? Perhaps she was too tired Shinobu mused, watching the old woman set up the futon for her.

“I’ll be there in just a moment to help you eat, (Y/n)-chan.” Hisa smiled as she patted the covers smooth.

“No need to trouble yourself, Hisa-san. I can take everything over from here,” Shinobu politely waved her off. “Please leave the rest of (Y/n)’s care to me.”

“If that is what you wish. Call if you require anything.” Hisa finished setting up Shinobu’s sleeping arrangements before slipping out of the room and sliding the door shut behind her.

Shinobu hummed quietly and got up to collect the food from the table, opting instead to set the tray at (Y/n)’s bedside. She lifted one of the bowls and pinched a sprout with the chopsticks and held it before (Y/n)’s face. “Say ahhhh,” She taunted playfully, waving the food before (Y/n)’s lips.

“You don’t need to feed me I can do it myself.” (Y/n) could feel her cheeks heat up as Shinobu persisted with her actions.

“What a bold faced lie, (Y/n). Or perhaps you hit your head harder than I thought? You do see how tightly I bound your arms, correct? Now open up, we don’t want to make a mess now do we?”

(Y/n) looked down at her covered arms slung snuggly over her stomach and made a soft sound of embarrassment. She turned shyly to Shinobu and received the bite, looking away bashfully as she chewed and swallowed.

“See that wasn’t so bad. Have some more, your body needs fuel to help it heal.” Shinobu spoke cheekily and raised the chopsticks again.

Shinobu continued feeding (Y/n) bite after bite until the bowl was empty. Then she replaced the used bowl with the full one waiting nearby and began eating her own lunch. She still sat by (Y/n)’s side and shared in conversation as she ate. Despite the plainness of the small meal, Shinobu felt like it was the best thing she’d eaten in a long time. Though she suspects it was as Mitsuri often told her, it’s the company with which one shares the meal that makes it taste so much better.

Shinobu’s lips curl into a small, sweet smile as she watches (Y/n)’s eyelids droop. When (Y/n) attempts to hide a yawn with her shoulder, Shinobu helps her lay back down from her reclined position. She only teasingly stroked (Y/n)’s hair three or four times before the slayer passed out. The smile grew a bit more proud as she realized (Y/n)’s total concentration breathing persisted even in her sleep. Shinobu studied the exhausted yet, peaceful expression. Drinking in the face she hadn’t seen in months, she wondered how a girl she had only met in person for a short period of time could already have such a prominent place in her mind.

Shinobu stretched her arms over her head and popped her spine, releasing a relaxed sigh as the tension escaped her back. The many nights of minimal, restless sleep had really taken a toll. She shuffled over to her own bed roll, only taking a moment to remove her blade, hairpin, and haori before slipping into the covers and succumbing to a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

It was well in to the next morning when Shinobu finally stirred. She fought with herself to sit up, a soft groan of displeasure left her mouth as she left the heat of her blanketed cocoon. She lazily scanned the room, her eyebrows knit together once her gaze landed on the empty futon a few meters away from her own. Her ear picked up the faint sounds of a struggle coming from the next room and her senses went into high alert.

Shinobu got up and grabbed her saya, a practiced hand poised over the hilt of her nichirin blade, she edged the door open with her foot and—

“Ahh!” (Y/n) squeaked and turned away from Shinobu to cover herself with her rumpled uniform top.

“Oh, (Y/n),” Shinobu laughed, “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get dressed, obviously. Can you leave please?” (Y/n) asked, trying to shoo the Hashira away.

“How long have you been trying to fit your fitted sleeves over those thick bandages?” Shinobu asked instead, smirking and leaning against the door frame.

“...I don’t want to talk about it.” (Y/n) mumbled, her shoulders slouched.

Shinobu giggled and made to approach, picking up the discarded kimono that (Y/n) had worn the previous day. “Your uniform would probably make traveling more comfortable, but I really rather not have to unwrap your arms. I recommend you keep wearing this, at least until we get home.”

“But it’s not practical, what if we encounter a demon?” (Y/n) worried.

“No offense (Y/n), but no matter what you wear, you won’t be much help with a fight in your condition,” Shinobu gave a sympathetic smile as she held out the kimono and discretely eyed (Y/n)’s scar, the previous injury that had brought them together. “Of course, if you’d rather go topless who am I to judge?” She teased.

“Oh my gods, give me that!” (Y/n) took the kimono from an all too pleased Shinobu and nudged her toward the door. “It took me twenty minutes just to put on pants, sorry that I would rather not let that struggle go to waste.” (Y/n) grumped, frown deepening at Shinobu’s tinkling laughter.

“If you need any help, just ask. I’d like to leave while it’s still light out.” Shinobu called through the door.

Shinobu took her time fixing her hair and packing up her supplies, but once that was done she was pretty much ready to go. She pulled on her haori and accepted a late breakfast from Hisa and she casually taunted (Y/n) through the door as she ate.

Finally, the berated girl emerged from the separate room wearing the kimono and her haori draped over her shoulders, looking almost as exhausted as yesterday. (Y/n) loosely held onto her uniform which Shinobu took from her to pack tightly into her bag.

“Oh dear,” Shinobu tutted, “You already tired yourself out haven’t you?”

“I can still walk, despite everything else my legs somehow are fine.”

“In that case,” Shinobu reached out and pinched (Y/n)’s thigh causing the other girl to let out a surprised, slightly pained yelp.

“What was that for?” (Y/n) hissed, gingerly rubbing the sore spot through her kimono.

“For removing your slings. You could have upset the alignment of your arms.” Shinobu scolded gently as she moved to fit the slings back around (Y/n)‘s arms and neck. Once she was satisfied, she helped (Y/n) eat breakfast, which was technically lunch at this point.

Shinobu gathered the rest of (Y/n)’s meager belongings, most noticeably her nichirin blade, and hefted her bag over her shoulder. (Y/n) offered to carry it, but Shinobu refused. Once they were ready to leave, Hisa created sparks for them and wished them good fortune during their journey. Shinobu and (Y/n) thanked Hisa, bid her goodbye and headed out.

Mochi cawed joyously and flew circles around the girls as they walked through the nearby village. He was causing a scene, but (Y/n) let him have his fun. He was just excited to be out and about with his slayer again.

“(L/n)-san!”

(Y/n) stopped and turned her head, prompting Shinobu to do the same. “Oh, Watanabe-san, hi!”(Y/n) greeted the girl hunched over a crutch with a couple small children circling her. They had also stopped to stare up at the boisterous raven.

“You aren’t heading out on a mission right now are you?” Watanabe asked, worry evident as she hobbled closer. She hadn’t even acknowledged Shinobu’s presence, instead focusing her wide eyes solely on (Y/n).

“Oh no,” (Y/n) shook her head, “Just transferring health care facilities. Kochou-sama’s orders.” (Y/n) half joked, turning to the Pillar next her and finally tearing Watanabe’s eyes away from her to look over at Shinobu.

“Kochou-sama!” Watanabe gasped and bowed clumsily at the waist. “I’m sorry I hadn’t realized sooner-“

“It’s fine, your off duty. Relax.” Shinobu gave the girl a small smile. Watanabe released a relieved sigh and a polite ‘thank you’ before eagerly turning her attention back to (Y/n).

“Well, this was good timing seeing as you’re leaving already,” Watanabe chuckled nervously. “I was just coming by to thank you again for saving me that night.”

“No need to thank me,” (Y/n) replied bashfully. “We both ended up in bad shape by the end of the night. If it wasn’t for the others we wouldn’t have made it back anyway.”

“It still means a lot to me. We’ve been on quite a few missions together now and it feels good to know that I can trust you to have my back.” Watanabe explained, a small dusting of blush appearing over her cheeks caused Shinobu’s smile to subtly twitch. “And I love to have yours too of course!” She said. Then she paused a moment before trying to amend her statement, “I mean like, you’ve got my back and I’ve got yours when we’re killing demons and stuff!”

“Yeah, I got it.” (Y/n) laughed. “I’m glad.”

“Kawa-nee,” one of the young children spoke up, tugging at Watanabe’s clothes, “Is she that girl you talk about all the time? The one you think is really pre—“

“Is really pre, pre- professional and good at her job? Yes, that’s our (L/n)-san haha!” Watanabe squished the little boy’s cheeks until his lips were pouty and protruding harshly. “Little cousins, such a handful!” Despite looking horrified, she tittered and blushed, her hands still smushing the poor boy’s face.

“Can I pet your birb?” Another child asked from behind Watanabe, pointing to Mochi still screaming in the sky.

“Uh-“

“I’m afraid we need to keep moving along,” Shinobu interjected before (Y/n) could speak. “(Y/n) is already quite tired in her weakened state and I’d hate to have her traipsing around in the dark longer than necessary. Surely you understand.”

“Of course Kochou-sama, forgive us,” Watanabe ran a hand through her hair, her face beet red with a sheepish expression. “I guess this is goodbye for now, (L/n)-san. I wish you a full and speedy recovery. I hope to be fighting by your side again soon!” The girl spoke sincerely, “And you know, maybe hang out sometime...” she added quietly under her breath. It was something that clearly wasn’t meant to be heard but it didn’t escape Shinobu’s acute hearing as the Pillar fought to not roll her eyes.

“Thanks, Watanabe-san. I wish you an excellent recovery too, rest well,” (Y/n) beamed, seemingly unaware of the effect she had on her poor fellow slayer.

“Yes, goodbye now. Lovely meeting you,” Shinobu waved with one hand and placed the other at the small of (Y/n)’s back to usher her along. Even as (Y/n) got into a steady gait, Shinobu persisted with her touch and gave Watanabe a plastic smile over her shoulder before redirecting her attention to (Y/n), her fingers pressing a hint further into the fabric at (Y/n)’s back as she gently pushed her out of the small, bustling village.

***

They had traveled a few decent kilometers and the sun had passed its highest point. Mochi had finally grown tired of his circling and took a precarious perch on the slant of (Y/n)’s shoulder as she and Shinobu continued to walk through the twisted woods.

“Do tell me when you need to rest, (Y/n). I don’t wish for you to pass out on me, I’ve got enough things to carry as is.” Shinobu spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had surrounded them for awhile now.

“I’ll be fine,” (Y/n) spoke with an ill timed cough.

“Perhaps a quick break is in order after all.” Shinobu frowned, placing the back of her hand on (Y/n)’s scalding forehead she winced internally. “You’re burning up. We’re pushing too hard, rest.”

“I can keep going Shinobu, really.  I don’t want to slow you down any more than I already have.”

“(Y/n), I’m out here because I want to be. There is nothing more important to me in this moment than your well-being. Now sit under this shady tree, drink some of this medicated water, and rest.” Shinobu commanded, helping (Y/n) lower herself to the ground and offering a waterskin for the girl to drink from.

“Mmm ‘kay.” (Y/n) mumbled, too tired to argue further.

Shinobu simpered at the injured slayer then stood and turned to take in her surroundings. She looked to the trees above and counted veiny offshoots of the sun illuminated greenery above, killing time until (Y/n) could travel more ground.

I’m going to need to be especially vigilant tonight.

“ShinobuShinobuShinobuShinobu!”

Shinobu whipped her head around back to (Y/n) heart racing she was by her side in an instant and cupped the quivering girl’s cheeks in her hands. Her eyes switching between (Y/n) and the surrounding environment rapidly to try to understand what could possibly have upset her so- oh.

“Shinobu!”

“I see, I see. Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Shinobu released the tension she had been holding and moved to shoo away the small black butterfly that was happily perched on one of the roots of the tree. She watched as it fluttered a few meters away to the trunk of another tree before Mochi spooked it even further away. She wanted to be mad at (Y/n), to scold her for scaring so badly over something that couldn’t possibly hurt her, but instead she smiled tenderly and crouched down to sit next to the quaking girl and pulled her into a caring embrace, having (Y/n)’s head rest in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t worry. I’m watching it, just focusing on your breathing. I’m here.” Shinobu cooed as (Y/n) hid her face in Shinobu’s chest.

True to her word, Shinobu watched the insect flutter around as Mochi attempted to chase it away. She found it odd that the butterfly would continue to stick around after being repeatedly dive bombed by the bird, but she didn’t think too much of it. Shinobu shifted her position ever so carefully to get a bit more comfortable since she could tell (Y/n) had fallen asleep. Whether out of stress or just plain physical exhaustion she wasn’t quite sure, but she’d wager that both played a part.

She allowed the girl to sleep a while longer, enjoying the simplicity of this rare peaceful moment and committing it to memory. They only had a few hours of daylight left now, so Shinobu begrudgingly patted (Y/n)’s back.

“(Y/n), it’s time to start moving again.” Shinobu’s seraphic voice called out.

(Y/n) groaned and shook her sleep addled head from her position on Shinobu’s shoulder, her nose grazed the side of Shinobu’s neck as she did so.

“(Y/n), night will soon befall us. We must go. However, once we get back to the Estate, you may sleep on me all you want if that’s what you desire.”

(Y/n)’s head shot up and she fell back against the roots away from Shinobu’s flirtatiously teasing smile, feeling the heat radiating off her face increase ten fold.

“Sorry!” (Y/n) stuttered out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep!”

“No need to apologize, you looked very cute. So cuddly too,” Shinobu teased as she helped the poor girl to her feet. Before (Y/n) could reply, Shinobu pushed (Y/n) forward, her hand taking a now familiar perch over (Y/n)’s obi. “Let’s be on our way! Mochi, you can stop tormenting that butterfly now,” she spoke over her shoulder to the raven and watched him dive at the insect one last time before soaring above their heads.

“Why do you keep guiding me by the waist? I know how to get to where we’re going,” (Y/n) asked while staring warily over her shoulder at the black butterfly dodging a beam of light to continue lurking in the shaded grove.

“The forest floor is covered in gnarled roots and jagged rocks. I’d hate for you to trip and not be able to break your fall.” Shinobu explained. “Like that,” she giggled her whole arm now curled around (Y/n)’s waist as she pulled the girl back up before (Y/n)’s tripping could completely fell her. “You should really watch where you’re stepping.”

“But I need to watch the butterfly!” (Y/n) insisted, still looking back despite Shinobu’s advice.

“I’m standing right beside you.”

“What are you- oh, I see what you did there, Insect Pillar.” (Y/n) chuckled.

Shinobu continued to distract (Y/n) from her fear as they walked on. Telling (Y/n) about the last visit Tanjirou and his squad paid to the Butterfly Estate as well as an embarrassing story about Tomioka Giyuu that had both girls snickering at the poor man’s misfortune.

As dusk fell over the forest, Shinobu estimated they would make it home in a couple more hours. To travel by darkness wasn’t safe for numerous reasons, but at least they had a lovely full moon to light the way.

The conversation between the two girls naturally died off as the pinks and oranges of the sunset disappeared and night fell. It was necessary for them to stay alert of their surroundings, to be able to hear even the slightest shift in the wind beneath the near deafening songs of cicadas and crickets. Even Mochi flew high above the trees, silently searching for anything amiss.

(Y/n) shivered as a cool breeze shook the leaves of the trees and wished she could pull her haori more tightly over herself. She casually glanced to her left but soon did a double take, swiveling her whole head to the side and pausing in her footsteps. This alerted Shinobu as her hand stayed at (Y/n)’s back.

(Y/n) thought she had saw something. Something small and dark crossed the edge of her vision but whatever it was, if it was anything at all, was gone now. She turned to shake her head at Shinobu to communicate the momentary pause before they continued on the path with near silent footfalls.

They weren’t much further along when another dark shape crossed (Y/n)’s peripheral. Another chill overtook (Y/n)’s body and she could feel the little hairs on the back of her neck prickle to attention. She pursed her lips and side stepped out of Shinobu’s touch and stopped walking.

(Y/n) flickered her eyes between Shinobu’s and her blade twice. The Hashira interpreted the expression easily and poised her now free hand over the hilt of her blade as she scanned the thick woods around them. This part of the forest let in precious little light from the moon, only a few sporadic beams managed to kiss the cold earth below.

The cicadas and crickets had gone quiet.

Another particularly strong gust of howling wind rattled the leaves and pushed at the young slayers’ clothes and hair, yet still nothing emerged from the darkness. Shinobu and (Y/n) knew better than to lower their guard now however.

A few tense, painfully quiet minutes passed before (Y/n) heard it. A faint ‘fwtfwtfwt’ steadily growing in intensity. (Y/n) looked over to Shinobu who nodded in her direction. The Hashira had lowered her bag and (Y/n)’s sheathed blade to the ground in the nook between two roots of a nearby tree before withdrawing her own poison laced blade from its saya and holding it at the ready.

The noise grew louder, sounding like paper flapping rapidly in a windstorm and (Y/n) couldn’t stop the scream that shot out from her throat and escaped through Shinobu’s hastily placed finger tips that had been slapped over her lips.

Butterflies, at least a hundred if they had to guess, emerged from the darkness with the same inky black color of the one they encountered in the earlier that day.

(Y/n)’s lips quivered against Shinobu’s hand and the rest of her shook just as violently, yet her feet remained as firmly placed as a statue. Too consumed by fear to even think about bolting away.

There was nowhere to run anyway, the butterflies flew around them from all angles, more waiting just beyond the trees.

“You found my dinner have you, my lovelies?” A gravelly voice called from the darkness, followed by a sound that was like a dusty cackle mixed with a cough. “She moves rather quickly for being in such a weak state.”

A looming figure finally caught a beam of moonlight and (Y/n) wished desperately to have missed the state of such a miserable looking creature. It was a decrepit looking thing, a grotesque demon with two obscenely large, vacant compound eyes that protruded far from its face. The demon’s faded blue kimono was torn and frayed at the hem, revealing bare feet caked in dried blood and dirt. It was an old, ragged relic that paid homage to humanity long since lost.

“Ahh, there’s the damaged goods,” The demon smiled sinisterly at (Y/n), its bulbous eyes unmoving, “Just the scent of your fear alone is oh so delectable. I can’t wait to taste the rest!” the demon’s voice crackled, its neck craned to scrutinize (Y/n)’s form, a long, wire thin tongue escaped chapped lips for a moment in a poor attempt to wet them.

“Ara, what an abomination you are,” Shinobu taunted, stepping in front of (Y/n) to obscure her from the demon’s view, “You’ve really made a mess of things you know? I was going to help (Y/n) get used to butterflies but showing your repulsive form has surely driven her further into fear. I’ll have to dispose of you quickly for causing such a setback.” Shinobu spoke, her lips quirked upward in a kind of smile that somehow radiated pure anger and disgust.

“Be gone, slayer. Your blood is no good. My babies have whispered of you. They assessed you in the daylight, the girl is slowing you, leave her to me. You cannot protect her while fighting my kaleidoscope, leave her now and you’ll live to see another sun.” The demon spoke as if it was being most generous, even chivalrous, with its proposal.

“My, what ludicrous words you speak. I have half a mind to cut out your tongue over such a suggestion. My blade may not be suited for chopping heads, but for this purpose it should work just fine!” Shinobu leapt up into the trees, the sudden movement was followed by a swarm of black butterflies.

(Y/n) was breathing heavily, trying to regain total concentration with no success. She had no idea what to do. She had no way of helping Shinobu in her condition. There was nowhere to go-

“Mochi!” (Y/n) yelled out into the sky. The raven was busy avoiding a smaller swarm of demon insects, performing various swoops and dives to stay out of their way. “Lose those butterflies and go to the Estate! Get help!” The raven released a distressed caw, reluctant to leave his slayer behind, but with a few well made aerial maneuvers he spun away from the insects’ traps and flew off into the night. But not before squawking an ominous warning.

“Careful, draw much blood so sharp!”

“Blood, sharp? What-“

“Troublesome girl, by the time anyone gets here the only thing left to help with will be cleaning your entrails from the moss and roots!” The demon lurched forward, the motion encouraged (Y/n) to finally find her legs, bolting just before the demon could reach her with its gnarled claws. She could feel the displaced air from the missed swipe at her neck.

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck!” (Y/n) must have yelled the expletive a thousand times as she stumbled away from the hungry beast, between the length of her kimono and the binding of her arms her efforts alone would surely not be enough to escape.

“Run all you like, my babies show me all. Even now I see the other human hopping amongst the branches above looking for an opening she won’t find. It’s all hopeless.”

As the demon slowed its pursuit, butterflies flanked (Y/n)’s sides as she continued to run. She made a particularly hard turn and fell forward, having just enough forethought to twist so her back hit the ground rather than her slung arms.

As she tried to bring herself back to her feet, something caught her eyes that made them blow wide open. The butterflies that had been hot on her trail had been embedded deep into the bark of the tree she had ducked behind. As she processed the information the demon drew closer in the moonlight until its shadow loomed over (Y/n) who was still struggling to get up.

“You’re mine!” The demon snarled, unfurling its whiplike tongue.

“Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter!” Shinobu had re-emerged from the shadows of the trees at lightning speed, her blade poised to strike deep within the demon’s back.

The demon grinned wickedly, (Y/n) could see herself reflected in its gargantuan eyes, as well as another wave of butterflies flying around her in a beeline towards Shinobu.

“Sharp!” (Y/n) finally understood, but everything was happening much too fast. “Shinobu, stop!” (Y/n) screamed.

Shinobu’s breath hitched and she changed her trajectory at the very last moment to take a forward tumble and land a few meters away from the demon’s side. She quickly burst forward once her feet made contact with the earth and less than gracefully scooped (Y/n) from the ground, half carrying her as she continued to hop away.

“I hope you had good reason for that little outburst,” Shinobu’s voice strained as she tried to maintain her grip, her arms already aching. A familiar self loathing at her lack of physical strength bubbling to the surface.

“Shinobu, the butterflies’ wings are sharp enough to slice into trees. You would have been cut into ribbons if you flew into them!” (Y/n) hastily informed. “The demon said it could see through the butterflies, so even if its not looking directly at you, if there is a butterfly tailing you it knows where you are!”

“What an annoying creature,” Shinobu huffed, as she struggled to lean (Y/n) against a large boulder to help her regain her footing. “Long range battles are less than favorable.”

“It’s only a matter of time before it catches up again, what can we do? Mochi probably hasn’t even made it to the Estate yet,” (Y/n) murmured worriedly, mind whirring as fast as possible to come up with a solution.

“You needn’t worry, (Y/n),” Shinobu brushed her fingers over (Y/n)’s jaw and tilted her head so their eyes would meet, “I merely stated that long range unfavorable, in order to kill this demon, I’ll simply have to move so fast that it won’t matter if it can see me coming and remove those pesky eyes.” She smiled.

“But Shinobu-!”

“(Y/n), I certainly hope you aren’t doubting my abilities. Perhaps in your very lax use of titles and honorifics you’ve forgotten that I hold rank over you, yes? The highest rank a demon slayer can achieve?”

“I’m very sorry, Kochou-sama! That wasn’t my intention!” (Y/n) bowed awkwardly, a nervous sweat rolling off her brow.

“I didn’t say you had to stop being informal with me, just trust that I know what I’m doing, silly girl,” Shinobu smiled affectionately at her chagrined companion before spinning gracefully on her toes to face the dark abyss that was steadily growing louder, her nichirin sword at the ready, “Now, listen carefully and do as I say...”

***

A few moments later, they were under attack once again, the butterflies descended upon them in a flurry, but they were ready.

(Y/n) and Shinobu split off, a majority of the demon bugs swarmed after Shinobu as (Y/n) clambered back to where Shinobu had discarded her bag. It was still quite a ways off and (Y/n) could only hope the demon was as slow as Shinobu believed it to be. Sure, it seemed to take pause during a few points in its chase, but it could just as easily be toying with them.

(Y/n) nearly tripped due to a shallow hole in the dirt, but was lucky enough to regain her balance and keep going despite the disruption of her forward momentum. She must have cursed her useless arms over a million times in the last ten minutes alone.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing Shinobu!” (Y/n) hissed to herself as one butterfly got to close and managed to swipe her cheek, a streak of blood mingled with stinging sweat.

Finally she saw the discarded bag and her sword which she wished desperately to be able to use. She had no time to stop and figure out how to pick the bag up so she made a little prayer that her uniform would cushion the valuable vials Shinobu said were inside and kicked the bag high into the air, managing to catch the strap in her teeth, and kept running.

(Y/n) made a large arc around another thick grouping of trees and began making her way back into Shinobu’s general area. (Y/n)’s head and heart were pounding and her vision was blurring dangerously. And that was the least of her problems. Adrenaline or no, (Y/n) was sure she was at her limit and was going to crash very soon.

“I have grown tired of this game!”

(Y/n) cried out as the demon lunged from the shadows and tackled her to the ground, it’s mouth frothing and dripping foamy saliva onto (Y/n)’s kimono. (Y/n) managed to kick the demon off and she scooted frantically backwards, watching the angry monster crawl after her with its tongue lashing at her retreating ankles.

“This wasn’t part of the plan! This wasn’t part of the plan!” (Y/n) chanted to herself as she ripped one of her arms free from its sling, wincing through the pain as she straightened it and dug through the bag while still scrambling backward.

“Uhehehe! You’re little friend is busy with a special addendum of this demon blood technique of mine. I left her with enough of my babies to make a clone of myself. There are no obvious differences to be found, she will die believing she was truly facing off with me,” the demon cackled, fully clutching onto (Y/n)’s ankle and dragging her back, “little did she know I was really here, devouring her friend!”

“Devour this, bitch!” (Y/n)’s arm withdrew from the bag with a surgical syringe in her bandaged fist and stabbed it deep into the nearest eye of the miserable creature, draining the purple liquid into the gelatinous mass.

The demon roughly pushed the girl back and released a most horrendously shrill scream into the night. It reeled back on its haunches and clutched at its face.

“What have you done to me! My eyes! My eyes!” It bellowed, its eyes had begun to deteriorate at a rapid pace, a purplish red puss leaked from its tear ducts as it blindly grasped at (Y/n)’s legs. “I’ll make you wish you were never born!”

(Y/n)’s eyes clenched shut, she had no strength left to continue fighting, everything hurt so much she couldn’t even move to defend herself any longer. She could feel the hot breath against her neck, but then the sensation was quickly replaced with that of the cool night breeze and her eyes shot open to see a pure white haori flutter against her cheek.

“Kanao-san!” (Y/n) cheered, her expression one of euphoric disbelief.

“Where did you go you slippery little worm!” The demon shrieked, ripping madly at the ground with its claws.

Kanao stopped a safe distance away from the ranting beast and laid (Y/n) onto the grass and began assessing the beyond beat up slayer before her.

“Wait, Kanao-san, the demon needs to be dealt with and we need to find Kochou-sama.” (Y/n)’s speech was hurried and a bit slurred, it was becoming increasingly more difficult to stay present in the moment and (Y/n) was trying very hard to stay lucid to update Kanao on the situation.

Kanao stared down at (Y/n) then up at the writhing demon, then back down at (Y/n). She gingerly adjusted (Y/n’s neck and head so that she was looking back at her tormentor of the night and could see what was about to take place. (Y/n)’s heart filled with relief as a familiar blur, that was truly very blurry at this point, ambushed the demon from the trees. “She’s okay...”

“Dance of the Dragonfly: Compound Eye Hexagon!” Shinobu speedily stabbed the demon multiple times, injecting it full of her poison. She was absolutely furious. Not only had the demon wasted her time with that cheap parlor trick clone, it had left (Y/n) in worse shape than Shinobu had found her in the care of the Wisteria House.

She dug her heel harshly into the demon’s ribs once she got a good look at (Y/n) as Kanao tended to her. Shinobu’s jaw set tightly and she glared darkly at the demon writhing and gasping under her foot.

“You,” Shinobu spoke lowly. “I wish I could kill you a hundred more times, but this will have to do. I’ve used my most agonizing blend of poison after all.” She waited for the demon to release one final wheeze before stepping away, crushing a wilting remnant of a demonic butterfly into ash beneath her foot as she made her way over to Kanao and an unconscious (Y/n) with a visibly pained expression.

“Thank you for your impeccable timing and diligence. When I heard that scream I thought... You got to her just in time,” Shinobu knelt down opposite Kanao, beside (Y/n), checking over the girl’s body for any injury that could not wait to be dealt with.

“Mochi was invaluable. I wouldn’t have even known to come to the forest without him. He’s guiding a couple Kakushi here as we speak,” Kanao reported as she would upon completing a mission.

“I’m glad,” Shinobu twined her idle fingers with those on (Y/n)’s left hand and closed her eyes wearily. “I’ve done nothing but put her in danger tonight. She needs to be kept in hands stronger than mine.”

Kanao hesitantly reached out and covered (Y/n) and Shinobu’s joined hands with her own, meeting her sister’s curious gaze a bit nervously. “I... I don’t think (Y/n)-san could be in more capable hands than your own, Neesan.”

“She’s right.”

Kanao and Shinobu blinked at each other before tilting their heads downward to find half open (e/c) eyes staring back up at them.

“It was a strange and clever demon, it targeted me specifically because it observed my injuries and knew I’d be easy pray. If I had been at the top of my game, or if you didn’t have to worry about me, you would have been able to take out that demon much faster. It took advantage of us, so don’t belittle yourself, please.” (Y/n) smiled warmly and weakly squeezed Shinobu’s fingers.

“You’re too kind,” Shinobu gave a small smile in return, “Don’t strain yourself now, rest.” She spoke softly, but (Y/n) continued to babble in her feverish, exhausted haze.

“I just don’t want you to be sad, you know? You work so hard and you’re so cool and smart and beautiful so, yeah, gods I’m so tired. Imma take a nap righ’ here. Night.”

“(Y/n), (Y/n)!”

“Ah!”

Mochi had swooped in from high above the trees and landed on (Y/n)’s chest with wings outstretched and proceeded to hop around her torso and cry with relief.

Shinobu gently admonished the bird, offering her arm as a more acceptable perch as (Y/n) groaned and turned in on herself.

“Kochou-sama, Tsuyuri-sama!” two Kakushi called as they emerged from the trees, one cradled (Y/n)’s sword in their arms as they made their hasty approach.

“Oh gods, you again?” One of the Kakushi griped once he caught sight of (Y/n) on the ground. “You aren’t going to fight me when I pick you up again, are you?”

(Y/n) pouted and shook her head slightly, fighting to keep consciousness despite claiming that she was going to sleep.

“Shinobu promised to keep the butterflies away, it’s fine.” She mumbled, forgoing usual formalities that she would normally use in the presence of others.

“What do butterflies have to do with anything?” the other Kakushi wondered aloud, scratching their head with the hilt of (Y/n)’s blade.

“Just ignore her, it’s been a long night and I’d like to get home,” Shinobu waved them off, trying to distract from (Y/n)’s slip of her self proclaimed, ‘most embarrassing secret’.

The gruff Kakushi picked (Y/n) up and with a little help from Kanao, got her slung over his back.

“Ugh, everything hurts. Don’t bounce so much,” (Y/n) whined, her voice muffled by the Kakushi’s back.

“Quit complaining I-“

“Do be gentle with her please,” Shinobu interjected, she gripped the Kakushi’s shoulder and gave him a dazzling smile that shook him to his very core.

“Y-yes ma’am!”

***

(Y/n) awoke several hours later. She was disoriented, but clean and warm in the comfort of the Butterfly Estate’s infirmary.

“(Y/n)-san woke up!” Kiyo exclaimed from (Y/n)’s side, startling the girl from her haze between sleep and wakefulness.

“Hey, Kiyo, how long was I out?” (Y/n) asked the small girl at her bedside who was quickly joined by Naho and Sumi scurrying over from the opposite side of the room.

“You’ve been asleep for over three days since you got back. Shinobu-sama slept a lot too. Not as much as you, but once she had you taken care of she slept almost all day!” Kiyo informed. “It’s been awhile since Shinobu-sama has slept so soundly.”

“I’m glad she’s been resting. That fight was, kind of intense to say the least,” (Y/n) shuddered just thinking about that battle. She was sure she’d be seeing long, whipping tongues, bulbous eyes and razor sharp butterflies in her nightmares from now on. She needed to become even stronger. “Has Kochou-sama said anything about when my recovery training will begin to you girls?”

“Hmmm no,” Sumi shook her head.

“She just asked to make sure you don’t leave your cot and to call for her if your condition worsened.” Naho supplied.

“You are in no shape to even think about recovery training right now.”

Everyone jumped and turned to the door, observing Shinobu as she crossed the threshold into the infirmary. The younger girls parted for Shinobu, the Hashira took ahold of (Y/n)’s chin and jaw in one hand and gently turned it this way and that to check the cuts and bruises that marred the slayer’s face. She released a quiet, satisfactory hum seeing that nothing appeared infected. As she continued her evaluation, she continued to speak, “Your body has been through a considerable amount of stress to say the least. The way I see it, you’ll be out of commission for a couple months at the very least.”

“A couple months? But—!”

“Shhh,” Shinobu adjusted her hand to cover (Y/n)’s lips and stifle her protests. “I will hear no ‘buts’ about it. This is not up for debate. Now you will not leave this bed until I have personally cleared you to do so. Have I made myself clear?” Shinobu’s eyes stare relentlessly into (Y/n)’s, almost threateningly so, as she slides her hand to rest on the bedridden slayer’s shoulder, awaiting an answer.

“Crystal clear,” (Y/n) squeaked, trying to sink further into the bed. Shinobu squeezed their shoulder gingerly before withdrawing her hand completely with a satisfied smile.

“I’m glad you understand,” Shinobu hummed approvingly. “Now, you must be hungry. Girls,” she turned to Sumi, Kiyo and Naho, “see if Aoi needs help with dinner, please.”

“Yes, Shinobu-sama!” the girls nodded vigorously, waving goodbye before disappearing out of the room and down the hall with the soft thuds of tiny feet on wood.

“Can you tell me how you’re feeling?” Shinobu asked, directing her attention back to (Y/n).

“Hmm? Oh, I’m okay. Just, tired. Sore.” (Y/n) startled a bit, hoping it hadn’t been too obvious that she had been staring at Shinobu while the youngest girls of the estate took their leave.

“I see,” Shinobu hummed, setting herself to sit on the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” (Y/n) flexed her ankle, hitting her foot against Shinobu’s side, “I wish you would believe me when I say that.”

“It’s hard to argue the contrary. I did take you away from the Wisteria House after all. As shoddy as the building is, at least the wisteria would have kept you safe.”

(Y/n) moved to kick at Shinobu again, but the Hashira blocked the foot, leveling a warning glance at the bedridden slayer.

“You know, I was really surprised when you came.” (Y/n) admitted, turning to look out the window. She flinched when she noticed the butterfly on the other side, but kept her eyes on it, watching. “It made me really happy, actually.”

Shinobu blinked, unsure of how to proceed. She didn’t need to however as (Y/n) kept talking.

“I had been looking for an excuse to come by, to visit. I didn’t know what you’d think. I thought that you were just fine with being pen pals and me showing up would be weird, and then I thought about the butterflies and I just lost my nerve every time I thought about it. And then I got hurt again and I thought the letter I had Hisa-san write would be good enough for you, but you came to see me for yourself,” (Y/n) paused and gulped nervously, still watching the butterfly as it was joined by another.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? I just wanted to tell you that it meant a lot that you would take time to come look after me when your so busy. Even when it got dangerous, I can’t say that I regretted it because I was just happy to be with you— Eep!”

Shinobu moved from her perch at the end of the bed to lay over (Y/n)’s body, her face hidden in (Y/n)’s neck.

“Shinobu!”

(Y/n) felt rumblings over her neck and chest growing in intensity and although it hurt, she smiled brightly as Shinobu’s laughter racked her body.

“Thank you.” Shinobu chuckled once she had reined in her laughter. “That was very sweet of you to say. Aren’t you embarrassed to speak so candidly?”

“Should I be?” (Y/n) asked, nervously. “Oh gods, I didn’t read this wrong, did I?”

Shinobu rose herself to rest on her elbow, her other hand raised to silence the girl below her before her second guessing got too out of hand and tapped her nose playfully. The action drawing (Y/n)’s up to Shinobu’s filled with mirth and warmth.

“You have nothing to worry about. Relax, don’t over exert yourself.”

“So, you...?”

“Mhmmm,” Shinobu smiled, curing a lock of (Y/n)’s hair between her fingers, “so don’t stress. After all, we’ll be seeing a lot of each other while you heal over the next few months. And then, once you heal and are able to take on missions again, maybe you won’t have to think twice about coming over for a visit, hm?”

“I- I suppose not.” (Y/n) smiled bashfully at the butterfly goddess above her.

“Shinobu-sama, you’re going to crush her!”

Shinobu and (Y/n) whipped their heads to the door where Aoi, Kanao, and three mildly concerned young girls stood with food trays in hand.

“My, I’m not that heavy am I? Choose your answer wisely,” Shinobu cocked her head playfully in (Y/n)’s direction, watching her shake her head and laugh.

“Not at all my lady. No more heavy than a blanket really.”

“Ugh, is this what I’m going to have to put up with now?” Aoi groaned and rolled her eyes, placing a tray on the nightstand beside (Y/n)’s bed while fighting the smile that threatened to tug at her lips.

Aoi watched as the younger girls cheered and giggled, crawling on to the bed to chatter on about anything that came to mind as they ate their own dinners. Even Kanao had pulled up a chair, a relaxed smile on her face. Aoi begrudgingly pulled up her own chair, basking in the warmth of the moment despite the strange seating accommodations that certainly weren’t befitting of a proper dinner.

“So annoying.”

[ryan-shepard-writes]

A couple dozen Get To Know Ya How Ya Doin questions by @athenixrose !!! Tagging anyone who feels like doing them! If you want to answer them you should go to THIS POST HERE and either copy/paste or reblog directly from Athenixrose!

Since I'm shy and haven't really been active in the writeblr community, I'm going to make it my goal to answer ALL the questions!

How are you?

I'm... Here. Which I consider to be a good thing.

How's the writing going?

Not terribly, I think, but I have a bad kind of writer's block right now. I know what I want to happen, but I can't make myself WRITE it... I also kinda feel like I really want to delete and change a bunch of stuff. Idunno.

Do you read books?

A bit too often, yeah. I cycle through the same ones all over, y'know? I love reading, but I think my brain is using it as an excuse not to write.

Have you been focusing on plot or fluff/downtime in your WIPs where nothing happens really?

Attempting to do plot, which is probably my problem. I excel at dialogue and character interactions, but writing plot is... Rough for me.

What's the hardest part of writing for you?

Actually physically doing it. Especially when it comes to doing events and advancing plot.

Do you like making titles?

YES. I love coming up with titles and taglines.

Do you like making blurbs?

I'm not sure! I don't think I've ever precisely written a blurb before?

Do you make your own mock covers?

Yes and no. I designed my own header photo on my blog, if that counts?

Do you write fanfiction?

Yes. A lot. Probably too much. I'm a selfshipper.

Who was your first ever favourite character from any piece of media?

My first ever fave? Probably Mewtwo.

Who is your current favourite character from a piece of media?

All Might!

Favourite book?

Gods that's a hard question. Probably one of the books in the Protector of The Small Quartet by Tamora Pierce.

Favourite song?

Genuinely no clue. I have a lot!

Favourite film?

TREASURE PLANET!

Favourite TV series?

At the moment? My Hero Academia!

What has been the biggest influence that has shaped how you write or inspired you?

The dichotomous complexity of the human heart.

Have you ever written anything out of spite because you hated how another piece of media was written or produced/ acted out?

Ooooooooooh yes. Most definitely. I don't think it exists anymore, but I wrote a whole ass new ending for The Giver when I was in middle school.

Last fictional death you cried at?

Aunt may in Spider-Man 2018 :')

How many drafts do you complete before you consider a WIP finished?

Uh.... Hehehe.... Finish?

How long have you been writing?

I wrote my first "original story" when I was 9, but I daydreamed original stories before that.

What genres do you write for?

Science-Fantasy, romance, queer, cosmic horror... Usually all at once.

Do you like doing research and if so, are you researching for a WIP right now?

LOVE research. Catch me taking refresher courses on hawking radiation for 2 lines of dialogue.

How many abandoned WIPs do you have?

Only a few... I tend to keep writing things even years later.

How many completed WIPs?

Hehehehe... 1. An old Kingdom Hearts fanfic that I wrote in middle school.

How many WIPs in progress?

All of them.

How organised with everything, are you? Do you keep track of OCs with lists ect?

I'm the least organized person you have ever met. I have no character sheets. Everything is trapped in my brain. Please send help.

Has your own writing ever made you cry?

Oh yeah absolutely. Fate's Crystal Majesty has SEVERAL points that make me tear up.

[moonlit-imagines]

The Doctor Is Out

Stephen Strange x reader

warnings:

a/n: wrote this a while ago and its been sitting in my drafts. part 1/2

prompt:

In (2)

Without opening your eyes, you stretched your stiffened body against the silk sheets and rolled over to face your husband.

“Good morning, dear.” You whispered through a yawn, which led into a smile. Stephen was already awake and reading one of the many books he kept at his bedside.

“And good morning to you, too.” He leaned over and gave you a kiss on the temple, letting your eyes flutter open. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’d say so.” You reluctantly sat up on your side of the bed, pushing the covers away. “Any plans for today?”

“Not in particular.” Stephen decided to get out of bed with you and get ready for the day, although he was in a gray jacket and blue jeans in the blink of an eye. “We don’t have very much to eat, I might go run out for lunch.”

“Lunch?” You asked as you pulled on a pair of pants.

“Yes, well, you seem to have gotten a late start on the day.” Your husband explained. “I didn’t want to wake you, you looked so content with your dreams.” You took Stephen’s wrist to take a look at the time.

“It’s half past eleven?” You stared in shock at your husband’s watch. “You just waited for me?” He shrugged as if it wasn’t a big deal, but Stephen rarely ever let himself lag behind, it was truly sweet of him to keep you company while you drifted through the peace of your head, thoughts you’d already forgotten. “It seems the odds were in our favor when our paths first crossed, huh?”

“Don’t make a big deal out of it, my dear.” Stephen’s barely shaking hands cupped your face and right before he leaned in for a refreshing kiss to the lips, he whispered, “I’m not as great a man as you make me out to be.”

You hummed into the kiss he gave you and pulled back just a tad. “Oh, you’re right. You’re just the worst.” Sarcasm failed to escape you in moments like these, it was more entertaining than anything else in the eyes of your husband. “Now, I’m starving. Want to go to the deli around the block?”

“That’ll work. We should ask Wong if he’s hungry, too.”

—————

“You don’t have any money?” Stephen asked as the three of you walked through the Sanctum in a fixed line.

“Attachment to the material is detachment from the spiritual.” Wong’s wise words rung in your mind as you tried to figure out what he did before the two of you had moved in with him.

“I’ll tell the guys at the deli.” Stephen snarked. “Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.”

“It’s fine, we’ll pay for your lunch.” You interjected after hearing enough of that. Somehow, the trip down the stairs was unsuccessful since your steps from only a few seconds ago were nothing but rubble. You fell to the floor as Stephen and Wong took defensive positions.

“Thanos is coming.” An unfamiliar voice spoke as you lay on the cold floor. Were you able to get up on your own? Probably, but that fall would definitely leave a mark. After a moment’s time of your lonely visit with the floor, your partner rushed over to you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” He crouched beside you and helped you back up, lightly brushing your cheek as he checked for any injuries.

“I think I’m okay.” You nodded. “Hit my head on the way down.” Peering over his shoulder while he checked your head for any bumps, you saw Dr. Bruce Banner crawl from the rubble. “Do I have a concussion or was it a gamma scientist that just crashed into the Sanctum?”

“Hi, I’m Doctor—” He waved just before you cut him off.

“I know who you are, Doctor Banner.” You replied with a smirk. “I’m Dr. L/N-Strange, specializing in neuroscience, but formerly gamma research.” Stephen smiled himself when he heard you say your name and just a little more when you described your profession. Maybe he was just proud to be near someone so accomplished.

“I don’t think you have a concussion.” A kiss on your forehead was the best medicine he could give, but you knew that it also meant he needed to get to work.

“‘Formerly gamma?’ Why’s that?” Bruce asked, somehow ignoring the big picture here. I mean, you were just happy to get some visitors, I suppose. You’d answer anything.

“For a while, they went hand-in-hand for me. You’d be surprised at what could be accomplished when you put them together...” You explained, Stephen patiently listening beside you.

“But?” Bruce pried a little more.

“But then I heard about your little ‘accident,’ decided to take a break just in case. Refocus my research.” You felt your partner’s hand rest on your shoulder and slide down your arm as you watched Dr. Banner’s guilty expression surface. It wasn’t your intention to offend, you were just obliging to his curiosity.

“As much as I love hearing you talk about your career, darling,” Stephen finally stepped in, “I think we need to talk about the threat to our planet?”

“I was wondering when you’d stop me.” You chuckled. “That’s alright, I’ll just go pick up lunch for you three. Dr. Banner, do you like sandwiches?”

“I...yes? I guess so. Turkey and swiss is...I haven’t had that in a while.” He stammered, leaving you to peer over at your husband and have him give you a near-identical look. Sometimes, the two of you just thought that same exact things, no words needed.

“Will you two stop doing that weird thing where you stare at each other in silence? We have work to do!” Wong interrupted and you decided it was about time to head out.

“Love you, Stephen.” You said with an amused shake of your head, giving him a quick peck in the lips.

“Love you, too. Don’t be too long if you can help it, Dr. Banner seems to have a pretty good idea of dangers to come.” He told you as his cloak gave you a quick pat on the arm. You didn’t know whether to say goodbye to his outerwear, as well.

“I’ll see what I can do.” You winked and pat the red cloak back, heading for the door that your bag was hung beside. Now was the time for a walk to clear your mind, no “Thanos” or whatever the hell that was. Just the music to your ears that was Bleeker Street traffic and insufferable pedestrians. You just kept your eyes front and went on walking, you’d walk straight through crowds if you had to.

A few block’s worth of steps and you’d reached the deli that was so dear to your husband, now it was time to wait in line, a pretty long one, nonetheless. Maybe it was time to shoot Stephen a text.

Just made it to the deli ;) Anything I should be worried about out here?

Tony Stark is here. Outlook not so good.

Did you just magic 8-ball me?

“Dude, are you texting right now?” Tony asked in disbelief of the wizard looking down at his phone. It wasn’t very typical of him to check it in times like these, but you had a specific ringtone. Once he hears that ringtone, he replies. No matter what.

“I always answer my s/o.” He cleared his throat and stashed his phone away.

“At least we have something in common.”

—————

The line at the deli took so long that you got caught in the crossfire of an alien attack. Was it unbelievably amazing? Of course. Was it one of the most terrifying days of your life? You bet.

You could no longer get ahold of your husband and you soon knew why when he flew overhead in an attempt of offense. You’re guessing that these people were looking for the Time Stone.

Desperately hoping for one of your wizard “pals” to come and save you, maybe have you fall through a portal and back into Sanctum, you just hid in an alley. This may be one of the lows in your life, but you’d see worse days soon enough.

And the invasion was over just like that. You, like many other New Yorkers, stepped from the crevices of the streets to witness the damage firsthand.

“Uh, Dr. L/N!” That same voice from earlier spoke, causing you to swivel your head and see Bruce waving you down. Since he was the first person you recognized out here, it’d be best for you to head his way. It was a maze of cars, bricks, and broken glass before you’d made it over to him.

“Where’s Stephen? Or Wong? Tony Stark?” You bombarded him as if he weren’t stressed enough, but scientists always wanted answers. He knew that from experience.

“The aliens have your husband.” A line you never thought you’d have to hear. This better be a sick dream. “Wong said he was going back to the ‘Sanctum’ to protect it, and Tony is also with the aliens.”

“At least my husband has backup.” You sighed with a slight hint of relief, but your stomach was still turning just thinking about what they might do to Stephen. If they wanted that Stone, they’d do whatever they could to get it. Stephen was as smart as he was stubborn, it’d take a lot to get him to hand it over.

“Are you going back home?” He asked as he snagged a phone from the rubble.

“I figure you have a plan, I’m coming with you.” You watched him freeze for a moment with a name on the phone highlighted. “Trying to reassemble the Avengers, huh?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, it’s going to be dangerous.” Way to state the obvious. You didn’t know if you could handle it, but...

“I have to get my husband back, I can’t just wait around.” You wouldn’t back down, but it was a little comforting to have someone backing him up. “Don’t worry, I’ll try to put myself to good use.”

—————

It has been...twenty days since the disappearance of several Earth-based heroes. Among them was Spider-Man, Tony Stark, and your husband. But today was the day you’d know the truth.

Half the population had vanished into thin air. It was hard to tell if anyone had survived the trip to space. You’d been staring out the window all day, just trying to spot the cosmic wonder that was “Captain Marvel.” If anyone could find them, it was her.

Just as you were about to nod off, a bright glare intruded in the sky.

“Guy? Guys! She’s back!” Everyone had been on edge today, so they were ready to dash outside. Your heart was beating out of your chest, this was the moment of truth.

Carol landed a beat-up spaceship onto the open field and out stumbled Tony Stark and what looked to be an alien. You stared at the ship’s door, waiting for one more person. Just one more.

Everyone was staring at you now, waiting for you to realize that your husband wasn’t in there. Once Tony caught sight of you, he pieced together who you were.

“You must be the wizard’s s/o?” He leaned against his fiancée and Captain America, struggling to look you in the eye. “He wanted me to give you a message. Uh...sorry, I’m going blank, rough ride.” He rubbed his forehead as you stood there in tears. “‘This will make sense later.’ Oh, and he loves you.”

“I...” Everyone was still looking at you with pity in their eyes. Yes, they all lost people, but you were still clinging onto hope. All of your optimism had been destroyed in these past few moments, you didn’t even know how you were supposed to take this. “I need a minute. I’m sorry.” You stormed off into the guest bedroom of Avengers HQ, leaving everyone around you worried. You didn’t know them long, but it was easy to bond through a trauma like this.

“Y/N?” Bruce knocked on the door. “Got a minute?”

“Sure.” You reluctantly answered and Bruce let himself in.

“I brought you carrots.” He offered the bowl. “It was all we had in the fridge, sorry.”

“We have to find Thanos.” You grumbled though tears. “I won’t give up until we fix what he did.” Bruce stayed silent out of fear, he knew what could happen to someone in mourning. People can get...crazy.

“We’ll do the best we can. We’re working on it.” Bruce explained as he set the food down on your end table.

“Take me with you. I have to be there this time.” You were in no way qualified to face an intergalactic being capable of that much destruction.

“Y/N, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” He shyly countered you, using this calm tone was an exercise he learned during “anger management,” maybe it could help.

“I wasn’t asking.”

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @rorybutnotgilmore // @locke-writes // @sweetheartliz07 // @queen-destenie // @natasha-danvers // @lokihiddles // @frostedficrecs // @lotsoffandomrecs // @johnmurphyisqueer // @teenwaywardasgardian // @pappydaddy // @captainshazamerica // @freya-xo // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @ofthedewthesunlight // @canarypoint // @zoeyserpentluck // @randomawesomeperson102 // @spideyandtheboys // @ghost-bich // @wonderful-writer // @of-a-chaotic-mind // @groovyfluxie // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @lxncelot // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @blizzardbabe // @agentshortstacc // @rosadiaz-sarayvargas-harleyquinn //

[levihantrash]

new chapter update!

Summary:

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

Levi Ackerman, a gruff cleaner with an appetite for toilet humour meets the unabashedly friendly creative writing professor, Hange Zoë, who somehow ropes Levi into working on a comic with them. While the comic’s title remains undecided, Hange knows that it’s going to be set in a world where giant, human-like creatures devour other humans. Erwin Smith, the comic’s self-appointed editor, unironically thinks it’s going to be a hit. All Levi knows is that he wants to indulge in drawing this comic while hanging out with a certain writer who just won’t stop talking to him.

Where Hange, Levi, and Erwin are the creators of Attack on Titan.

Chapter 1: Free Bread

Chapter 2: New Friends

Like routine, Levi found himself waiting for a certain professor to show up. When Erwin called out to him, he couldn’t help but search behind the tall, imposing figure.

“I haven’t seen Hange this morning either,” Erwin said. Levi found himself irritated by Erwin’s discernment and by his own discrete uneasiness.

“Good morning, Erwin,” Levi greeted, nonetheless.

Hange was late, which Levi figured wouldn’t be out of the ordinary.

The morning passed without a single sign of Hange.

“Sorry, are you Mr. Levi?” A nervous-looking person approached him, holding on to a well-wrapped steamed bun. A twinge of hope stirred in Levi.

“Levi will do,” he said.

“Dr. Hange said I should pass you this,” the bread-holder blurted out.

Levi’s gaze softened. “Where’s Hange?”

“Oh! She’s rushing a deadline and insisted that I pass you this bread.”

The inexplicable rush of relief made Levi dizzy as he grasped the bread limply. “Huh. Sorry that you have to be an errand boy today.”

“It’s no trouble!”

“Who are you?”

“Sorry! I didn’t introduce myself! I’m Moblit, their teaching assistant! Dr. Hange helps me out with my master’s thesis because they’re my advisor. This is just my way of saying thanks. Dr. Hange also treats me to meals, gives me detailed comments for my work… though they might go overboard when it comes to giving speeches about the importance of world-building and honing your craft, it’s inspiring how dedicated they are in what they do.”

Moblit took a deep breath, making up for lost air in between the lengthy, whole-hearted sentences.

“Is that so…” Levi said, suddenly contemplative. “Do you want some tea?”

“Are you getting it from the staff pantry?”

“No, that stuff’s stale as shit. I have better tea, wait here.”

Levi recalled Erwin asking him in front of everyone in the staffroom if he wanted the staffroom snacks. Hange followed up, speaking at a volume that was clear enough for most of the staff to overhear, orchestrating a deliberate conversation with Erwin.

“Since there are no hard rules as to who the snacks and drinks are catered for, and technically, Levi is a staff member, he should have access to the snacks!”

None of the professors objected. It was probably because open prejudice would be socially unacceptable, Levi thought.

Begrudgingly, he accepted Erwin’s offer, and in full view of everyone, took a candy bar.

Hange gasped. “Just one?” Levi glared at them.

“Aren’t the snacks for your little sister?” Hange asked. He nodded, sensing the collective spike in sympathy for him in the staffroom.

After the whole stage, the trio huddled conspicuously in a corner outside the staffroom.

Hange whispered to Levi, “You could have played along better!”

“Erwin’s tired of your skit,” Levi said, overwhelmed and annoyed at the turn of events.

“No he’s not!” Hange said sternly, before gulping down half a bottle of water.

Erwin, standing in between them, told Hange to keep it down.

“Thanks, you two.” Levi found himself staring at the floor, embarrassed that his two friends had to construe him as a pitiful character for him to get a few snacks, even though he had been informed of the plan prior.

“I’m sorry, Levi,” Hange said, their lips compressed into a hard, grim line. “It’s ridiculous that you can’t even get snacks and refreshments as part of the staff.”

“I’m used to it.”

“If anyone’s giving you a hard time, you have us,” Hange said, still put off.

They squared their shoulders impressively. “Right Erwin?”

“You can rely on us, Levi,” Erwin surmised, equally sombre.

Growing more ruffled by their declarations, Levi hissed, “I don’t need two bodyguards.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” Hange joked. “Some people have told me about the deathly aura you emit that I must have missed…”

Fixing their attention at a vague distance, Hange’s playful jibes dwindled into an idle pondering, “I wonder if you found some joy in our companionship at least.”

They’re talking about joy and friendship again… Levi thought.

He found himself back in the present, handing a cup of black tea to Moblit, guiding him towards a bench.

Moblit squeaked out, “Thank you!”

“How did you find me?” Levi asked, betraying none of his real curiosity.

“Hange gave me a description…” Moblit began, not making eye contact with Levi.

“Did they? What’s the description?” Knowing Hange’s brand of humour, Levi braced himself.

Moblit shuffled in his seat, terribly reluctant. “They said to look out for a cold, black-haired man with an undercut, wearing an apron, gloves and brandishing a mop while scolding people to not step on wet floors.” Levi made a mental note to strangle Hange.

Moblit quickly supplemented, “You’re not actually cold though!”

“How would you know that?”

“Um… you’re offering me tea?”

Levi clicked his tongue. “That’s a low bar for human decency. You should have higher standards.”

“You’re right, Mr. Levi… I mean Levi.”

Levi noted Moblit’s jittery manner when he briefly checked his phone for a message and let out a small groan.

“Hey, you look worried sick. You didn’t receive a death threat, did you?”

Moblit laughed weakly, running his hand through his hair. “Uh, you see, I’m one of the editors for the bi-annual literary magazine and we’ve been looking for illustrators…”

“I take it that you haven’t been successful?”

“Yes… I just received someone’s rejection. It’s okay, we’ll find one,” Moblit said, although his panicked lip-biting ran contradictory to his optimistic statement. Levi’s hands twitched again. He folded them promptly into his apron pockets.

Upon finishing the tea, Moblit stood up and gave a tiny, polite bow. “It was nice meeting you Levi. Thanks for listening and for the tea!”

“Good luck,” Levi said, in time before Moblit rushed off.

Bagging up the rubbish, Levi heaved the load on his shoulder easily, only to be startled by the appearance of Hange.

“Fuck! Can you stop jumping out of nowhere?” Though momentarily disconcerted, the tension built up from the day unwound instantaneously, leaving his body loose and feeble.

“Levi! Did you shit yourself?” Hange sang. They accidentally bumped into the gigantic rubbish bag, falling butt-first onto the ground, phone in hand.

“Be careful,” Levi said, in the same monotonous voice he used regardless of the situation. Unless the situation involved Hange leaping out of nowhere. He looped his free arm under their armpit to pull them back up. Hange, flushed from running, placed their phone in his hands with ill-contained excitement.

“Look at what I found!”

“Oi, what’s this—” Levi scanned the phone, his mouth running dry.

“I’m going to recruit this artist. For my comic.”

It was a sketch of a cat being patted by a person with messy, tied-up hair, their hands stroking its head.

“Don’t you think the person looks familiar? Isn’t the cat cute… remember how I told you I have one at home?” Hange released their brown hair from a voluminous ponytail, biting the rubber band in their mouth.

He swallowed. “I drew that.”

Hange’s mouth hung open. “You’re kidding!”

“Do I look like I make such shit jokes?”

“Personally, I find your shitty jokes very funny. This is exciting news! Why didn’t you tell me you’re an artist when I was trying to find one for my comic?”

Levi found her question preposterous. “You could easily find a better one. I’m inexperienced.”

“I’m also an inexperienced writer. I barely wrote one book and a few articles!”

“You’re a professor. You have the title for a reason. I just draw for fun.”

Hange spared him a baffled look. “Please. You have no idea how many great writers never become professors. And how some professors never write great books. I thought you of all people would know that a title doesn’t mean anything.”

“I thought you of all people would know that titles hold their value here, even if we think they’re stupid and don’t mean shit.”

“I know that, Levi. I’m saying, drawing for fun doesn’t make you inexperienced or unworthy of being the artist for my comic. Besides, I chose you before I even knew it was you!” Hange said triumphantly.

Locking the phone screen, Levi reiterated, “I draw for fun.”

“Then this will be our fun project!”

Levi’s pragmatism pulled the brakes. “I’m not about to dedicate my life to become a broke comic artist.”

“You won’t be broke.” Erwin slipped into their conversation as though he had always been there. It was uncanny.

“What do you mean?” Levi stared questioningly at Erwin.

“You’ll be paid for your work, Levi. Hange as well,” Erwin said simply.

“You’re paying us?” Hange and Levi asked, in unison. One, in disbelief, and the other, in delight.

“A publisher will be paying you. I’ve secured funding.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “A publisher wants to sponsor a comic that hasn’t even been written?”

“I told you, Levi,” Hange interrupted. “I’ve already submitted a draft!”

“Yes,” Erwin said.

Levi had so many questions. “How?”

“Because it’s a good story.”

“Did you bribe them? Threaten them?”

“It is a risk,” Erwin admitted.

“It’s a fucking gamble,” Levi emphasised. “Don’t know why you’re so invested in this comic.”

Hange had other worries. “Levi, did you think I wasn’t going to pay you?”

Levi hesitated. “I don’t know. Isn’t this just a fun side-project?”

Hange’s face came closer to his. With the enhanced proximity, Levi stopped breathing altogether. Their face was deadly solemn.

“Listen, Levi, creating art is hard work. Your hard work. Any artist deserves to be paid. It’s not because our relationship is transactional. It’s because it’s only right.”

Erwin added, “We’re not going to accept your art for free.”

Pushing Hange back firmly with his hands on their shoulders, Levi argued, “Plenty of people have access to my art online for free.”

“That’s your choice. We insist.” Hange grinned. “And we think we deserve to be paid too. Even I’m surprised that my project has early compensation.”

Part of Levi’s resolve ebbed away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Good enough for me!”

“First, you have to tell me what your story is.” Levi gathered up the last of his self-respect. “And if we’re going to be working together, I’ll need your number.”

Erwin raised an innocent eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you need mine too?”

“Stop teasing him, Erwin,” Hange said, grabbing the rubbish bag from Levi, struggling to balance its weight over their shoulders.

Just as Levi felt a shred of gratitude, Hange remarked, “What if he doesn’t agree to do the comic together?”

Patience running thin, Levi stomped on both their feet in a fit of unrestraint that diverged from his unaffected demeanour.

Eyes twinkling, Hange couldn’t help but feel immense glee at the prospect of working with Levi. What was probably Levi’s withheld strength made them certain that he only wanted to dirty their shoes, not bruise their toes. Like Hange would care about the cleanliness of their battered sneakers.

In front of an ordinary apartment door, Hange dug into the depths of their bag to fish out a ring of keys. The size of the ring was unprecedentedly big; the choice of keychain most definitely random, a freebie handed out to new staff that blatantly displayed the university’s name.

Without that much bribery of tea, bread, and friendship, Levi found himself standing beside Hange as they busied themselves in finding the key to their apartment. Erwin had bailed due to having another Important Meeting with Important People, even during a weekend, but encouraged Hange and Levi to take time to discuss the comic.

Hange hadn’t expected Levi to agree so readily to kickstarting the project, and with the generous reception Levi gave (a curt nod and a follow-up question), they thought it’d be best if they invited him over to their apartment. Just so he wouldn’t mistake Hange as a mere business partner. Now that would be upsetting.

Hange pushed the ludicrous speculation out of their head. Levi was first and foremost, a good friend. His bored appearance revealed glimpses of surprise, satisfaction, moodiness, and suspicion. Hange held on to these pieces with the determination to collect them all. Surely, Levi must have figured them out by now. This endless, unabashed interest Hange had taken in him.

“Why are we meeting at your place? Do you need to take a huge shit? Does the toilet at home have a better flush?”

Although Levi had no qualms about visiting Hange’s apartment, he found it unnerving to have a work discussion in someone’s living quarters. It felt too intimate, too casual. He wasn’t sure if he could handle being sucked in further into Hange’s life. They asked so many questions, yet barely answered any about themselves.

Whether intentionally or not, Hange was someone shrouded in mystery to Levi. He couldn’t ask questions either—he wouldn’t—because he was unaccustomed to expressing himself in front of people. More than that, he could envision Hange’s sharp wit poking a clean hole through his muted facade. “You’re interested in my life, Levi?” Damn that four-eyes for being so perceptive. Or was he so easy to read?

“It’s more fun,” Hange said, eventually stuffing the correct key into the keyhole, a smooth click welcoming them. “Plus, I want to introduce you to my friends! Part of the reason why I took up the position at this university.”

“Friends?” Levi asked, slipping out of his shoes to step into the apartment.

“Hange!” A voice rang, and Hange was wrapped in a hug.

“Onyankopon! I saw you yesterday—”

“Three days ago, to be exact, since you always sleep over on the lovely desk at the university.” A smooth voice entered, coming from a woman standing comfortably against the wall.

As the tallest body let go of Hange, it allowed Levi to take in the congenial features of a man whose shoulders rivalled Erwin’s towering, well-built stature. While Erwin’s smile was measuredly cordial, Onyankopon’s was candidly sincere. Watching Hange and Onyankopon, Levi felt as though he were intruding into a family reunion that had invited the entire neighbourhood. Here, he was the guest who came for the free flow of food and drinks.

“I’ve missed you too Pieck!” The woman named Pieck ruffled Hange’s hair, offering them an embrace.

Hange pulled Levi by the elbow, pointing to the new people. “Meet my roommates and college friends, Onyankopon and Pieck!”

“Hi,” Levi said, uncertain as to what else he could affix his terse greeting with. Hange resolved that predicament for him, going into further details about their friends.

“Onyankopon is a researcher and engineer! I can’t tell you the technical specifics of what he does, though, I always get them wrong. Oh, and he’s religious, but he won’t try to convert you.” Onyankopon nodded, affirming Hange’s unflattering introduction.

“Pieck… Pieck is a gardener, florist, and avid gamer! That’s why she’s always bent over, whether it’s tending to her plants or her high score in front of the monitor.”

“It’s not why I need the crutches though,” Pieck said. Hange squeezed her shoulders in response.

“Seems like my friends are all nerdy. Maybe that’s why I like them?” A sheepish smile graced Hange’s lips.

Onyankopon gestured towards Hange, imitating their dramatic flourish. “And this is Hange Zoe, the nerdiest of them all. Obsessed with words. Recently obsessed with science fiction. They’re always reading or writing, and once they start on something, their butt doesn’t leave the chair.”

Levi’s eyes flitted around the apartment—it was relatively tidy, with a couple of framed photos and artworks. A blanket on the couch made it homely enough. His inspection didn’t miss Hange’s notice.

“Like what you see?”

“It’s neat,” he replied.

“That’s a compliment!” Hange took care to disclose this to their two friends.

“All your previous partners don’t take off their shoes, Hange. I hope he isn’t one of those.” Pieck said, using their crutch to relocate Hange’s haphazard shoes to a corner, flipping them the right side up. Levi liked her already.

“That’s gross,” Levi said apathetically, wiping away the horrifying image of dirt-smeared carpets and tiles creeping into his consciousness.

“He’s very clean, don’t worry,” Hange said easily. “Some might even say it’s his obsession.”

“I’m the cleaner at the university.” Onyankopon and Pieck turned towards Hange with patented disapproval.

“Levi, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“I think we’ll make good friends,” Pieck said, bemused.

Hange beamed at Levi. “You’ll love Pieck! She’s really quiet most of the time, just like you. Not to mention she pretends that she hates me. Just like you.”

“Good to know,” Levi said, enjoying the banter a bit too much.

“Hange says she’s going to get you to draw me, as a titan,” Pieck said, evidently sceptical.

“What’s a titan?”

“The giant, naked people I told you about, Levi! They’re called titans!”

“Why are they called titans?”

Hange landed on the sofa with a plop, patting the seat beside them for Levi to sit. “In Greek mythology, titans are immortal giant gods who were banished to the underground.”

Levi, who had little knowledge of Greek mythology, made a mental note to search for references online.

“Therefore, the titans are kind of like vengeful giant gods from the underground who have come to earth to wreak havoc on what the gods have built, which is human civilisation, basically.”

“Basically, I am wonderful enough to be titan-material,” Pieck drawled, propping their crutch at the side of the couch, sliding onto the cushions.

“A special titan that walks on all fours! Um, that’s the plan for now,” Hange said brightly.

Onyankopon, who had been content with listening, clapped his hands together in sudden realisation. “Hange, now that you’re finally home, you can take a shower.”

“I should, right?” Hange scratched their head, feeling the slickness of unwashed neglect.

Levi crinkled his nose as Hange reluctantly made their way to the bathroom. “That’s disgusting.”

“And here you are, still.” Pieck’s amiable statement prickled at his skin like a light warning before impending exposure.

“Hange must really want to make a good impression if they’re showering now,” Onyankopon said, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Onyankopon pushed a newly made cup of tea towards Levi, with the steady confidence that could only come from having known prior that it was the beverage that Levi would desire. “Make yourself at home.”

Levi said his thanks, to the hospitality of two people he scarcely knew, and to Hange, who likely told them about the tea.

Cold water blasted them in the face, as Hange became cognizant of the necessity of showering more regularly. It wasn’t like they thrived in the dirt. Hypothetically, showering wasn’t that troublesome. The shower kept forgetting itself until it was three days later and Hange stank with regret and mild self-loathing. Still, the shower felt good, giving them new clarity about the fact that they had invited Levi into their inner social circle. How would he fare? Would he be uncomfortable? Hange massaged shampoo into their hair, recalling their conversation with Pieck and Onyankopon.

After much elaboration on adapting to a new university, their visits to an amazing bakery, and the fostering of daily encounters with new friends, Pieck had caught on that every other sentence from Hange contained a sliver of Levi-sized anecdotes. The new university was so much bigger than the one Pieck, Onyankopon, and Hange had attended together; it stretched endlessly, and Hange estimated that Levi would have walked 393700.7874 steps to clean just the faculty building. The bakery near the university was fragrant, its selection marvellous, and choosing a new bread for Levi every day was a tremendously delightful task. Moreover, Hange had met so many unique characters since getting to know the people in their faculty, people like Levi whose abhorrence for social etiquette was admirable, and with whom she was eager to share their mornings and lunches. Together with Erwin, of course.

Pieck let out a tinkle of a laugh at Hange’s obliviousness. “Why are you friends with Levi?”

Thinking hard, Hange answered, “I don’t know if he thinks of us as friends.”

“Well, friendship status aside, how’s he like?”

“He’s kind. He doesn’t sound like it, but he’s kind.”

“That’s nice. How’s he kind?”

Confusion coloured Hange’s usual confidence. “Hmm. It’s gut-feeling, I guess.”

“That’s unlike you, to rely solely on instincts,” Onyankopon said, stroking his chin. Hange was a person with an abundance of rationale, a reason for everything, with justification for any ideas. Their reasoning this time fell flat.

Pieck prodded on. “You said that he doesn’t sound kind. Then what does he sound like?”

“Grumpy, sarcastic, serious. He looks like he’s annoyed with everyone. Most people find him scary, I suppose? It’s like he wants people to think he’s an asshole.”

Pieck perked up. “Oh, so you’ve become enamoured with broody, misunderstood people who’re rough around the edges?”

“Pieck, come on, I’m not writing my own romantic trope! I don’t know… he’s a good person. I can tell. He doesn’t say much though.”

“You’re a mind-reader now?”

Hange ignored her. “His art… it’s so evocative. Melancholic. Hopeful. Angry.”

“What was the artwork you last saw of his?”

“A cat,” Hange said immediately.

Onyankopon brought Hange back to reality. “What about him? What do you like about him? Not his art.”

Hange pursed their lips. “Do good people need to prove themselves to show that they’re good?”

“There could be reasons as to why you’re so adamant about his golden character,” Onyankopon said.

“He’s reliable. And his shit jokes aren’t so bad once you get used to it.” Hange surprised themselves with that comment—Levi’s relentless toilet humour was infecting their brain. The corrosive force of the word “shitty” had already moulded itself permanently into their vocabulary.

Gazing up at the ceiling, Hange bent their arms behind their head. “It’s hard to find people to truly get along with.”

Onyankopon and Pieck shared a knowing look.

With their eyes trained to the white ceiling plaster, Hange mumbled on, “it would be nice if he’d talk more openly about what he’s feeling. It’s all guesswork and I’m afraid I’m constantly reading him wrong.”

“Maybe you should take your own advice…” Onyankopon said gently.

“But I do talk about my feelings!”

“Monologuing in your room and reposting vague lines of poetry and sending us memes to cope with your avoidance is not the same as talking about your feelings,” Pieck said, spending the subsequently long moment of silence to snip off a yellowed leaf from the potted Monstera deliciosa next to the kitchen counter.

“Wow.” Hange, for once, had nothing to muster.

Onyankopon’s approach was less incisive than Pieck’s. “You know, I don’t think you need a reason to be friends with someone. If he’s making you happy, I think it’s a good sign.”

“Thanks, Onyankopon,” Hange said gratefully.

“But Pieck’s right about you being deliberately evasive with your own emotions. Introspection shouldn’t be so strenuous, right? Don’t you write about your characters’ internal turmoil often?”

“It’s different when you’re reflecting for yourself,” Hange contended.

“We’ll see how Levi’s like anyway, when we meet him,” Pieck said, grabbing the scissors, going towards another deadened leaf.

“Don’t bully him!”

Another snip. Another leaf fell. “Isn’t he supposed to be scary?”

Hange smiled wryly. “But you two are scarier.”