#an instance where I'm really not sure what to name the chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nyxnightshade7656 · 2 months ago

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Hooked Pt7

Things go from good to horrible in 2.2 seconds. Also, in this version of a Siren, her voice triggers illusions only the victim can see. I'm not sure I portrayed that very well here, but there will possibly be more instances in later chapters. Maybe. As always, comments/concerns/constructive criticism is always welcome.

Google translations

C'est une Fille - That a girl Bon travail - Good Job

Things had been quiet around the mansion lately. As quiet as a school full of mutants could be, at any rate. No threats, no life or death missions. Just the occasional trip to try and recruit a new mutant to the school to teach them how to control their powers and live in peace with humans. Honestly, it set her teeth on edge. It was too quiet, to the point that she was nearly jumping at her own shadow. In her experience, which was admittedly nothing like the X-Men had lived through, things being quiet for too long meant something big was coming. She hoped she was wrong, and it was just all her years of having to be hyper vigilant that was making her paranoid, but she didn’t think it was. Her dad had started taking her out into the woods more often in an effort to keep her sane by forcing her mind onto other things; like training and tracking. But so far it hadn’t worked as well as Logan had hoped it would. It didn’t help that he was as on edge as she was, and she could feel it. She gave him an A plus for effort though, he really did care in his own gruff way.

Today was a day where all the X-Men were in the mansion, and the younger generation of mutants were either in the Danger Room training, or they were in class learning the traditional school curriculum. She was left to her own devices, so she was outside, elbow deep in dirt and weeds, trying to exercise her paranoia out through gardening. She had just finished planting some cayenne peppers to later be used in cooking when she heard it. There was an explosion, she shot to her feet, looking around wildly as suddenly there was a cacophony of noise. There were shouts and screams, she thought she also heard crying, but nothing was as loud as the sudden influx of emotions.

Fear, Anger, Worry, Terror, Panic, Anxiety, Confusion, Disorientation, Distress, Pain, Shock, Stress and vulnerability. They bombarded her mind, driving her right to her knees as she clutched at her head as if she were trying to keep it from splitting apart. It was all too much, too overwhelming, she didn’t even feel like herself anymore, merely a shell or husk as the emotions of the people around her filled her like tea overflowing a glass. Everything around her was fading in an out, all the negative emotions were affecting her ability to think and process, she couldn’t even remember her own name at the moment. Suddenly, there was more noise coming from closer to her, but she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. It was like she was having an out of body experience, part of her aware of the danger but her mind could not seem to communicate with her body.

“Git ‘way from ‘er! How’s ‘bout ya pick on som’un yer own size, yeah?” The sound of Gambit’s voice helped ground her some, but she still was struggling to just open her eyes. There was the sound of a scuffle, but it seemed so far away, like she was hearing everything through several walls and a tunnel. Then, there was silence. The emotions were still build, swirling and swelling like a storm, but the ones closest to her were trying to be calm. But she could feel the fierce protectiveness warring with the forced feeling of calm, like they were trying to comfort her, “Chère, parle moi. Talk ta Remy, ‘mon.” Hands. There were hands on what she thought were supposed to be her shoulders. She whimpered before she could stop the sound, breath catching in her throat as fear and worry overwhelmed her even more, “Non, Chère, it Remy. Jus’ Remy. S’okay, yer okay, ‘mon.” Why was he saying that? Why was he talking to her like he was worried she was going to fall apart? “Chère, Remy need ya ta show me som’thin’. Need ta know ya in dere.” Oh. That’s why. She was shaking, and hadn’t even so much as looked at him yet. Finally, after what felt like hours of fighting through an undercurrent to try and find the surface, she managed to open her eyes. She was instantly greeted with Remy’s red-on-black eyes filled with worry. His expression quickly melted into one of relief, “Dere ya are, Chère. Remy glad ta see ya jolis yeux.” He whispered softly.

She bit her lip, she looked around and spotted a man laying on the ground, but Gambit quickly moved back into her line of sight, “Non, Chère. Don’ lookadat. Look at Remy, yeah? Much prettier sight.” His words were playful, but his tone and emotions were both full of a powerful protectiveness. Her eyes instantly met his, and he gave her a smile, “Dat’a girl. Les git you inside where I’s safe, huh Petite?” His voice was steady, his face was relaxed, there was nothing to physically indicate that he was anything other than calm and collected. But she was an Empath, and he couldn’t hide his emotions behind a flawless poker face. He was worried, boarder line panicked. She could not, for the life of her, figure out what would make the unshakable Gambit be so worried. Before she could do so much as blink, he had his hand on her elbow and was hauling her up like she weighed nothing. When she stumbled over a couple steps, Gambit didn’t even hesitate. In one fluid motion he went from taking a step to swooping down and sweeping her up into a bridal carry, “I gotcha, Petite. But we gotta get’cha outta here. Ain’t safe.”

She buried her face in his chest, trying to ground herself. The emotions in the air were a chaotic conglomeration that tasted like ash on her tongue. Too many warring and conflicting flavors. She bit her lip hard enough to break skin as she tried, and nearly failed, to keep her powers under control. She was trembling in Gambit’s hold, prompting him to hold her tighter as he picked up the pace, nearly running now as he tried to get them into the mansion. The sound of fighting, flesh hitting flesh and metal hitting metal, as well as the unmistakable sound of Cyclops’ optic blasts filled the air as Gambit rounded a corner, but it was the sound of Storm calling to Gambit that had her lifting her head from his chest, “Gambit, you found her?”

“Oui!” Gambit called back, hand moving from her back to the back of her head, as if he was going to try and make her hide her face again. There was a flash of lightning as Storm focused on giving Gambit cover. But it wasn’t enough, there was a flash, and then something hit the ground at Gambit’s feet, sending them both flying through the air. She skid across the ground like a smooth stone thrown across water, only stopping when her head and shoulder collided with a stone wall. Her vision swam as she clutched at the side of her head, trying to find Gambit, or see what had made them go flying. When her vision finally cleared, she saw that they were farther away from the main fight than she had realized, Storm had been distracted by an arial attack that drew her away from aiding Gambit. She started to crawl towards Gambit, it looked like he had collided with a different wall, but he had what looked like a splash of red from his hairline to his chin. The image was blurry for her, but she knew what that splash of red meant. Head wound.

She just barely made it to his side when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye, she jerked her head around, only to regret it immediately when her vision swam again. She pressed a hand to her head, trying to get the world around her to stop spinning, “Belle? Y’a’ight?” She glanced up at Gambit, his face was blurry to her, but at least he seemed to be awake. She nodded, wincing at the pain it caused her, then turned her head back towards the movement from a moment ago. Only to be faced with someone wielding what looked like a high-powered rifle at close range.

She felt the fear and anxiety hit her harder than she had hit the wall moments ago. Her eyes began to glow a vibrant purple as her power clawed at her, begging to be released. And for the first time since she realized what her power did; she let it have control, “Drop your weapon. Those living here are not your enemy. Your own men, those you invaded with, are your enemies. Turn on them. Turn on them and leave. Not. One. Of. You. Standing. NOW!” Her voice was not merely one voice. No, her voice was a cacophony of voices, her voice sounded like a legion of voices all at once. She was her own harmony, melody and rhythm. Instantly, at the sound of her voice, the man that had been about to shoot dropped his weapon as his face went blank. She watched as he looked around, as if seeing something not there, that only he could see, and then he turned and matched off, towards the main battle.

Her chest heaved as she fought to catch her breath, eyes wide in horror at what she had just done, yet she felt no remorse for sending that man to his doom. He would have killed her and Gambit if she hadn’t used her Song on him. Then the trembling started. Anxiety, fear and self-directed anger filled the air as she lost all control over her power. She clutched at her head, fighting for air, everything felt too much, her bones were too large for skin that felt stretched too tight. The noise around her faded to a whisper then blared into a screaming siren at random intervals. Her lungs felt like they were both over-inflated and like she couldn’t drag in enough air all at the same time. Her throat felt as if she had swallowed glass, or lava; raw, bruised and shredded. She couldn’t feel her fingers, her feet were so numb she wasn’t even sure if she was touching the ground anymore. Her vision went from blurry, to shadowy, then the edges began to go dark.

“-Re, Ch-“ Was that a voice? It was so hard to tell. Her head felt like it was both underwater and in a vacuum. Nothing was making sense, everything was too much, so much. Yet everything felt disconnected, “Chère! ‘Mon back to Remy, yeah? Wit ‘im now?” Panic. He felt like panic. There was disbelief, confusion, fear. No, was it her own? Was she feeling those things? Who was feeling all of that? “Non, Chère. Non’a’dat. Focus on Remy, hear? Jus’ Remy, can ‘e hold ya, Chère? Ya gotta breathe, ‘kay? Listen to Remy’s voice, can ya do dat for ‘im?” Why was he so worried? What was happening, was someone hurt? Who was making that sound? Was someone crying? Why were they crying? It sounded so far away, “Chère, ya breakin’ Remy’s heart.” Suddenly there was a warmth surrounding her, making her realize how cold she was. Then she heard something. ThuThump ThuThump ThuThump. Subconsciously, her lungs started to try and match the rhythm set by that thumping, “Dats it, Chère. Follow da sound’a Remy’s heartbeat. Time it. C’est une fille. Get some air, let it in, don’ fight it.” Oh. Oh, that crying was her, wasn’t it? That unholy wailing. It was all her. She could feel her fingers now, and she had dug them into her scalp, bruising the skin under her hair, digging her nails in until she had almost broken skin in an effort to prevent her head from splitting open.

Remy gently pried her hands away from her head, but only after carefully untangling her fingers from her hair to try and avoid causing her anymore harm than she had caused herself, “Dats it, bon travail, Chère.” He pressed the words into the crown of her head. His emotions were all she could feel now, other than her own. She wasn’t sure how long he held her, or how long he kept pressing reassurances into her hair. But he remained calm despite how worried she could feel he was. But finally, finally, she managed to take in her first full breath since this all began. Her screams and cries had dwindled down to silent hiccups as her body tried to regulate itself back to something closer to normal.

“Ya with Remy, ‘gain?” He whispered against her temple. She nodded, slowly, “Dat was real impressive, Chère. Knew you was an Empath, but dat wadn’t da skills of an Empath. Dat why ya don’ talk?” His tone was soft and gentle. Sweet and understanding. She felt her stomach drop to her feet at his question. She just nodded. He hummed and lightly trailed his fingers over her shoulder and down her back, “Les’ get ya inside, Chère. Scottie, Wolvie and da othas can clean up da res’ of da mess ‘ere.” He held her closer and stood up, holding her bridal style once more. She buried her face in his chest, clutching him tightly, using his steady heartbeat and soothing emotions to keep herself grounded for the moment. His steps were smooth and easy, a slow even cadence that quickly lulled her to an uneasy sleep.

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karahalloway · 3 months ago

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Morally Grey - Part IV: Covert Affairs

Fandom: TRR x Mission: Impossible II

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series: Morally Grey

Synopsis: Drake meets his handler...and realises that he is in deeper than he thought...

Word count: 4,200

Rating/Warnings: E (swearing, lemony-ness, references to death and carnage)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: I know this is not necessarily what people were hoping that I have been working on (poor Intentions keeps getting sidelined...! 😫) but this is where my brain has been for the past month.

A/N2: Associated clips from the movie for this chapter are below:

youtube

I jerk awake with a start.

The russet light of the late afternoon sun pools into the room, smearing the sheets tangled 'round my legs in a warm crimson.

My brows draw together. How and when did I end up in bed?

Running a hand down my face, my mind tracks somewhat groggily back to the events of this morning...

...to land bodily on me fucking Gale right there on the kitchen counter.

I shake my head. No, that can't be—

The rustle of the sheets draws my attention, and my gaze collides with the mess of honey-gold curls spread across the pillows...

...and the bare shoulder poking out from beneath the covers.

My eyes clench shut. "Shit..."

I shouldn't've touched her. That's what set this whole thing off. I should've just kept my hands to myself, or offered her a damn serviette. But I hadn't been thinking, and I'd let the heat of the moment carry me across the very clearly marked line that I've been told never to fucking cross.

Because a kiss — or two — is one thing. Not sanctioned by any official means, and definitely not one you'll find allowance for in any kind of training manual. But the rules are one thing, and real life is another. And if push comes to shove, a kiss can double as a well-timed distraction, or even as a potent lure. And Christ knows it's saved my ass more times than I want to count...

But locking lips with Gale had been different. It'd felt different. There'd been no thought, no planning, nothing even close to resembling a rational choice... Just a wild shot cracked off into the night with no target in sight.

And while I can BS myself 'round the circumstances that led to the first instance — the adrenaline, the cortisol, the heated argument — I sure as hell can't acquit myself regarding the second...

...except by virtue of the fact that I'd wanted to do it.

I'd wanted to taste her again, to hear her gasp against my mouth as her nails scraped down my skin. I'd wanted to leave her breathless, to make her forget her name, and scream out mine instead.

Because as good as she'd looked in that lace dress, that get-up had been a mere smokescreen. A calculated camouflage designed to achieve her objective back at the manor.

And it wasn't until she let her hair down that the mask slipped off... and I caught a taste of who she really was.

As beneath the firecracker façade and the biting wisecracks lay an almost naked authenticity that I thought had been wiped from this world... or at least from the world that I now inhabit. There was no bullshitting this girl, and she wasn't gonna hold back, neither. And honestly? That was like the taste of a damp breeze after an endless summer of drought.

Cracking my eyes open, I sneak a glance over at her. She's still asleep, eyes closed and mouth slightly parted, her features verging almost on innocent...

...except there'd been nothing innocent about the way she'd fucked me right back.

A low groan escapes me as I'm hit with the memory of her legs slung over my shoulders, her hands gripping the marble above her head as she slammed back against me with each violent stroke.

Sweet Jesus, she'd felt good...

As if to reaffirm that assessment, my dick twitches against the constraints of the sheets.

And even though I know it's a bad idea to pursue this liaison even a fraction of an inch further — you don't mix business with pleasure, period, let alone in this line of work, where emotional entanglements will literally get you killed — the only thing I want is to lose myself in her all over again, consequences be fucked.

Which is why — against my better judgement, and against every goddamn protocol — I find myself reaching across to run a fingertip across her delicate skin.

Because let's face it... I'm already up shit creek. So, I may as well ditch the paddle.

Her nose scrunches into a brief mou of disapproval, before she grabs the top of the covers to twist away from me...

...presenting the bareness of her backside in the process.

My gaze dives south like a fish on a lure to trace down the smooth expanse of her back, before settling on the dark cleft nestled between her cheeks... and the promise of its final destination.

Because if that's not a blatant fuckin' invitation, I don't know what is.

Kicking whatever reservations I may have left to the curb — which, if I'm being honest with myself, ain't a whole damn lot to begin with — I slip a hand 'neath the sheets.

Finding the warmth of her skin, my palm tracks briefly upwards to round her hip, before sliding down towards the coveted V between her legs.

She stirs briefly in response to my explorations, but doesn't quite come to...

...which makes me wonder just how far I can push my luck before she catches me out.

Shifting my weight slightly, I prop myself up onto an elbow, gaze trained on her face as my fingers seek their target.

Coasting over the soft flesh of her mons, I hear a low moan rush out of her as she moves against my hand.

My dick bucks against the small of her back like an over-eager hound on a leash, impatient to be let loose. But I keep myself in check, letting the anticipation build one hair's breadth at a time.

Because it's sure as hell gonna be worth it.

Slipping a finger into the heat of her folds, I seek her clit... and groan out loud when I come into contact with the veritable wellspring hidden within.

Because to say that she's wet is an understatement. Every inch of her is still coated in the aftermath of our combined climaxes and my fingers come out soaked.

Damn, that shit should be 'gainst the law...

But as much as a part of me wants to skip the foreplay and just yank her backwards onto my raging hard on, I force myself to take a steadying breath.

Because we erupted outta the gate once already today like a pair of wild broncos, jumping each other before our clothes had fully hit the deck.

And even though that'd been exactly what we'd needed after last night, this time I want to dial it back a gear... to feel her out... to make it last.

As who knows what kind of shit IMF is planning to throw our way when I finally pull my renitent ass outta bed? We could be going deep undercover... Behind enemy lines... Or even off-grid...

So, I'd rather steal the moment now, when I know I have it, than kick myself down the line when neither of us'll be able to avail ourselves of each other.

Because let's face it — Constantine yanked me off of my overdue vacation. So, as far as I'm concerned, he owes me a fuck-ton of time in lieu. And I'm planning to claim it. With interest.

"Mmm..." she moans, vindicating my decision as I start to tease her slick bud.

She twists against me and I drop my head to feather a kiss on her shoulder, drinking in her unguarded reactions as I pull her steadily towards the precipice of consciousness.

Her mouth parts with a more audible gasp as I find her sweet spot. "Drake..."

The sound of my name cascading off her lips like a breathless prayer causes my teeth to sink into her skin.

Fuck, that's hot...

"You awake yet?" I growl, tacitly pressing the issue with the addition of another finger.

"What if...I say... no...?" she mumbles, arcing against me half in protest, half in unabated need.

"I'd say you're a dirty liar," I counter, trailing my tongue up towards her neck.

She scoffs breathlessly, fighting the inevitable. "Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Walker?"

"Perks of the job," I smirk, nipping her ear.

She snorts back at me. "Not sure I'd call that a perk...!"

"Trust me," I grit, snapping her to me. "It's a definite perk."

She yelps as I roll her on top of me in one quick motion, leaving her spread-eagled with her back pressed against my chest.

Wedging her legs apart before she can think to argue, I shove my fingers deep inside her.

"Drake!" she cries, nearly lifting off of me at the sudden intensity.

"Case in point," I smirk, snapping a strategic hand over her breast to pin her back down against me.

She arcs into my hand. "You're such an ass..."

"You sayin' you'd rather wait a decent interval?"

She lifts her arm to tangle her fingers into my hair. "Who wants to be decent?"

"That's what I thought..." I drawl, circling her nipple with a lazy thumb while curling my fingers inside of her.

"You treat..." she gasps, even as her body strains for more, "...all your accomplices like this?"

"You mean, like this?"

"I— Ah...!" she gasps, free hand slapping onto my wrist in desperation as I add a third finger.

"I can stop any time..." I say, sliding in and out of her with deliberate slowness.

She snaps a hold 'round my dick. "Liar."

I swallow a groan with some difficulty. "Got me there, girl..."

She bursts into a laugh above me. "Guess we're just as bad as each other, aren't we?"

"Baby..." I grin, gliding my hand up to her neck. "There ain't enough time in the world for any of this to be bad."

"You say that now, cowboy..." she purrs, teasing me just as relentlessly as I'm teasing her. "But you're a spy in bed with a thief."

"Your point?"

"Right and wrong got left at the door."

I scoff dryly. "D'you wanna go find it?"

"It's a bit late for that..."

I frown. "Thought thieves weren't supposed to have a conscience..."

"Everyone picks up bad habits..." she admits with a rueful exhale.

Something in her tone gives me pause.

Slipping my fingers out of her, I tip her face towards mine...

...to find her hazel gaze welling with uncharacteristic vulnerability.

"Hey," I say, brushing my thumb across the underside of her jaw. "If you're having second thoughts—"

She shakes her head. "It's not that."

"Then?"

"Can I really trust you?" she whispers, almost too quiet for me to hear.

"To the grave," I affirm, holding her gaze.

She snorts softly. "Why do I believe you?"

"'Cause it's the truth," I say simply, rolling her beneath me. "I meant everything I said on that bridge."

"That's what I was worried about..."

"Why?"

"Because," she sighs, wrapping her arms 'round my neck, "this whole thing would be a lot less complicated if you were just another regular two-faced jerk..."

I shake my head with another scoff. "Think that's the first time anyone's called out honesty as a personality flaw."

"I've been disappointed one too many times..." she admits with a rueful roll of her eyes.

"Any chance of setting the record straight?"

"You can try," she shrugs coyly. "But it won't be easy."

"Good," I drawl, closing the distance between us. "I like a challenge."

Her lips tilt up to meet mine, and as I sink back into her, a realisation hits me like a freight train.

I'd do anything for this girl...

It's pitch black by the time I step out onto the street.

But that doesn't mean the city is asleep. The exact opposite, in fact.

The warm sea breeze catches my still-damp hair, bringing with it the shouts and laughter of the locals and tourists thronging the city for the annual Lantern Festival.

And — to be fair to them — it really is a sight to see. Thousands of hand-made lanterns are cast aloft to drift lazily across the city, carrying the hopes and dreams of their makers skywards.

Which is great.

But wishes ain't gonna save the world. So, I still got a job to do.

Adjusting the lapels of the hastily thrown-on leather jacket, I cast one last glance back at the building — and the lone glow of light emanating from the upstairs window — before plunging into the crowd.

I hadn't planned to run the clock down so much. But Gale was apparently a more potent distraction than initially advertised. And by the time I'd even thought to come up for air, it was already well past sundown.

Not that I strictly give a damn.

What I do on my own time is my business — no one else's. And I'd chosen to do Gale. Three more times, in fact. Plus, once more in the shower.

But, unfortunately, I'm now running behind schedule and I need to step to it if I'm gonna make the meet before the end of the 48-hour deadline.

Weaving through the throngs of tourists and locals crowding the narrow streets, I head east towards the city's old quarter.

Hawkers thrust flowers, lanterns, and light-up pinwheels at me, but I brush them off, intent on my destination.

Turning a corner, I arrive at an unassuming gap between two buildings. Slipping into the alleyway, I come upon a faded, wooden door. Locating the intercom, I quickly tap in my unique agent identifier to activate the obligatory retinal scan.

One quick database check, and the lock clicks back.

"Welcome, Agent Walker," chirps the automated voice as the door swings open.

Stepping over the threshold, I find myself in a brightly lit foyer that is in stark contrast to the dilapidated exterior of the building.

Modern minimalist pendant lights illuminate the space, making the spotless Carrara marble that decks the floor shine as if it were wet.

"He is expecting you," advises the receptionist from behind her desk. "Upstairs, first floor."

"Thanks," I nod, turning towards the elevator.

Pressing the call button, the doors ping immediately open and I hit the request for the first floor. One short ride later, I'm stepping out onto industrial carpet.

"Right this way, Agent Walker," indicates a suited Joe sporting a buzzcut and an earpiece.

I shake my head as I fall in behind the guard. The White House wishes it had this kind of security...

Arriving at the pair of double doors, the guard swipes a keycard to let me through.

Constantine is standing on the far side of the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his immaculately tailored suit, gazing out the window.

"Festival's a pain in the ass," he declares, watching the revelry at street level. "You have to wonder how the city manages to avoid setting itself on fire... Please, sit."

I pull out a leather-backed chair from beneath the large tempered glass table and park myself in it.

"I presume things went to plan with Miss Gale?" he asks, back still to me.

"More or less," I admit.

"Good," he nods. "At least that's one thing that hasn't blown up in our face..." Turning to face me, he adds, "I'm sorry I barged in on your vacation."

I shrug. "Sorry I didn't let you know where I was."

"Wouldn't be much of a vacation if you did..." he counters. "We all need time off every once in a while."

"Yeah, well," I say dismissively. "Best laid plans and all that..."

"Quite," he chuckles, spreading his hands over the top of the table. "We'd both be out of the job if nothing ever went awry."

"True," I agree. "But you're sorry and I'm sorry. So—"

"Why did you phrase it like that?"

I frown. "Like what?"

"You're sorry," he repeats, eyeing me intently. "And I'm sorry."

A scoff slides out of me. "You've got to be shitting me..."

"I am very much afraid not," he murmurs, sliding a tablet towards me.

I catch the device on instinct, eyes still on my handler. But whatever he knows, he's not willing to reveal. At least not yet.

Swiping my thumb across the screen to unlock it, I am confronted with a video file.

My finger hovers for a split second above the play icon, wondering what the hell this is all about, before I tap down onto the glass.

Here comes the rabbit hole...

As expected, the familiar face of Dr. Balen Arion fills the screen, albeit older and more haggard than when I last saw him close to a decade ago.

"Do you remember, Draven, when we first met?" the recording asks. "You convinced me that there was a chance of a better world... if each of us made better choices. Well, old friend, I am sorry to say that I failed... As in my zealous pursuit of our hero Bellerophon, I stumbled instead upon... a Chimera."

Balan reaches up to rub his eyes painedly beneath his glasses.

"History will be the final arbiter of my legacy, but in the meantime, I beg you, Draven, come to New York and accompany me to Geneva, immediately. But, however we travel, I must arrive at my destination, within 20 hours of the time-stamp of this message. I fear I can entrust this to no one but you. As we say, 'I'm sorry and you're sorry'..."

The video cuts out.

"Do you have any idea what in the blazes he's on about?" asks Constantine.

"An idea?" I mutter, still staring at the screen. "Yeah."

"Which is?"

"That it's a good idea to pick him up in a hurry. And a bad idea to fly him on a commercial carrier." I flip the tablet back to the end of the table. "So, let's get to it. Is he still in New York?"

"Dr. Balen Arion is dead," Constantine declares. "So is his colleague Damien Dan. But that happened earlier."

My head snaps up. "How?"

"The American Airlines flight he was on went down over the Atlantic. The search for survivors is still ongoing, but at this point, all 467 souls onboard are lost, presumed dead."

Something doesn't compute. "How the hell did you convince him to get on that plane without me?"

A ghost of a smile flicks across the old man's lips. "Oh, you were there..."

My guts hit the floor. Oh, fuck.

"Arion gave us a tight deadline," Constantine explains, opening up another file on the tablet and shunting it back to me, "So, when we couldn't find you, we had to replace you. Christian Rhys was the obvious choice."

The device skids to a stop in front of me and I watch with growing aggravation as a physiognomic algorithm maps out my features before transposing them onto Chris' to create a virtual mock-up of a full-face mask.

Of all the damn—

"Agent Rhys doubled you, what...?" The old man's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Two, three times?"

"Twice," I grunt, tossing the tablet back at him again.

Constantine catches the device with one hand. "What did you think of him?"

"We're not exactly compatible," I bite out acerbically. "Isn't it a little late in the damn day to be asking me that?

"Not necessarily..."

"Jesus fucking—"

The tablet slides into my eyeline again.

"Official AA records list a Captain James T. Arnolds as the pilot for the ill-fated flight," Constantine advises, as a slideshow of photos plays. "And as far as the media and all governmental agencies are concerned, Captain Arnolds met the same watery fate as the rest of his crew."

Images of what the rescue effort could salvage of the wreckage spin past on the screen.

My jaw tightens. Damn, that's a shit way to go...

"However, that is not quite what happened," my handler reveals. "It appears that the poor captain ran into a spot of bother with ground control. Something about lost and unclaimed luggage..."

A gruesome photo of a beat-up body spilling out of a duffle bag in ways that should not be physically possible flashes up before me.

"So, we're dealing with a hijacking," I surmise tightly.

"It would appear so, yes," Constantine nods. "Whoever downed that flight was skilfull enough to cover their tracks and make it look like an accident. Well... Almost an accident. Captain Arnolds' body turning up unexpectedly at Heathrow certainly raises some awkward questions."

I flick the tablet away. "As does an IMF agent gone rogue."

Constantine meets my eye from across the table. "So, you think it was Rhys."

I scoff. "Arian was a world-renowned microbiologist who specialised in DNA-RNA recombination. Whatever he was in such a hurry to get to the WHO in Geneva was obviously valuable enough for Chris to bring an entire plane down over."

"With a name like Chimera, I presume it's safe to assume that we're dealing with some novel form of virus?" my handler muses. "One that has the potential to be turned into a bio-weapon?"

"Given that Arion started his career in a Drakovian basement trying to weaponise the common cold?" I ask sardonically. "Yeah... That's a definite possibility."

Constantine nods. "In that case, you've got to recover this so-called Chimera and bring it to us."

"No shit," I agree. "We just need to figure out who he plans on selling this thing to."

"That is where Miss Gale comes in."

"How?" I snark. "By getting her to pose as the buyer? No way. Even with her skills as a thief, it's—"

"That isn't quite what I meant, Drake..."

I frown. "Then...?"

"Miss Gale and Agent Rhys had a relationship," Constantine advises evenly. "One that he took very seriously. She walked away, and he's been wanting her back ever since. I have been assured that she is our surest and quickest way of flushing him out."

"So, let me get this straight..." I bite out with more difficulty than I'd've thought possible, given that I only just met this girl. "You want to use her as some kind of swallow to set up a honey trap op?"

"If you want to put such a crude label on it," comes the dispassionate response. "The goal is for him to confide in her — the identity of the buyer, the details of the meet, anything that may be useful — and report back to you. If sex is required to fulfill that objective, then she is well within her rights to resort to it. No one's going to judge her for her actions. She is a civilian, after all."

"You made it sound like I was recruiting her for her skills as a thief," I accuse, my voice dripping with acridity.

"Well, then I mislead you," Constantine admits, spreading his palms. "Or you made the wrong assumption. Either way, we're merely asking her to resume a prior relationship, not do anything she hasn't already done."

My lips pull back to reveal teeth. "She's got no training for this kind of thing..."

"You mean, to go to bed with a man and lie to him?" Constantine smirks. "She's a woman. She's got all the training she needs."

I shoot up from the chair, fists clenched.

Constantine meets my eye calmly.

I turn away, jaw tight. "I don't think I can get her to do it."

"You mean it will be difficult?"

"You haven't met her," I tell him dryly.

"Well, Agent Walker," declares the old man from behind me. "This is not Mission: Difficult. This is Mission: Impossible. Difficult should be a walk in the park for you."

I run my hand through my hair with an acerbic scoff.

Saddling and riding a damn croc would be easier...

"But it is not my job to tell you how to do yours," Constantine continues conversationally. "So, if you can think of a faster, more... palatable way to get to Agent Rhys, you are welcome to try. Just be mindful that time is not our ally. Since the plane crash, there has been a marked uptick in bio-weapons-related chatter amongst the denizens of the dark web. Our guess is that whatever Rhys is planning with Chimera, it is imminent."

"Noted," I grunt, still trying to figure out how the fuck I'm gonna break the news to Gale without her castrating me... Or worse — stealing the keys to the Porsche and vanishing into the night.

"If you feel that some... leverage may be helpful, feel free to show her the images on that device," Constantine instructs, sliding the tablet back to me once more. "A picture is worth a thousand words, after all..."

"You want me to appeal to her conscience?" I snort, turning around.

"The fact that she agreed to come with you indicates that she has some measure of compunction."

"Yeah," I snark, snatching the tablet up. "Damn sure she'll be regretting that decision by the end of the night."

Christ, this is gonna be a shit show…

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aritsukemo · 4 months ago

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Paradise | Chapter Four - Final Selection | KNY

Summary: It's finally time for the Final Selection Process!

Warnings: Demons. In-depth descriptions of someone being eaten. Mold is used to describe the Hand demon so all my mycophobic folks beware! Cannabalism mentioned. Mentions of death in multiple instances so, with all that said, read with caution!

A/N: I somehow managed to force myself to finish the final draft of this chapter so I was like, why not post it? May be the last chapter for a while since school's starting back up, but hold that with a grain of salt. I'll try my best to work around my schedule and get another chapter out asap! <3

Taglist: @overluvsick, @nursedflowers, @jspidey5 + anyone who wants to be tagged! <3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Thanks to my training with Makomo, I've learned to detect the opening thread. It's the reason I won my fight with Sabito."

"When I'm battling someone and I pick up the scent, then I can see the thread. The thread is connected from my blade to my oppenent's opening, growing taut the instant I see it. My blade is drawn towards it with great force and when close enough, I slash at the opening.."

I stand there, awestruck as I stare at the boulder which is now sliced in half before me. I couldn't wrap my head around how this happened, "Where did Sabito and Makomo go? I cut Sabito's mask in half, so how did the boulder get cut?" Many questions swarmed in my head, but as I got a whiff of Mr. Urokodaki's scent, I quickly put them aside and turned around.

As I thought, Mr. Urokodaki was walking up to me. It's been so long since I've had a talk with him since I usually passed out as soon as I got home and woke up really early to come out here. That said, I didn't know what to say and in the end, all I could do was mumble out his name, "Mr. Urokodaki.."

He makes it to me at last, but walks past me, stopping when he's in front of the boulder. He stares at it for a moment before he said in that gruff voice of his, "I never intended on sending any of you to Final Selection," And my heart dropped. So this was all for nothing? That thought crossed my mind, but before it could sink in, Mr. Urokodaki continued and I noticed the scent of sadness mix in with his usual scent as he said, "I didn't want to see children die anymore.."

"I was sure neither of you would be able to slice your boulders, especially you.." And I suddenly felt his hand in my hair, "..But you did great. Well done, my boy!"

The way he said those words made him sound his age, like an old man praising their grandchild for walking for the first time. But as he stood there with his hand still in my hair and told me, "Tanjiro, you're a remarkable kid," All that he reminded me of was my father. He reminded me of my dad and I didn't realize it until he pulled me into his arms that I had started crying.

"Make sure you and the girls come back from Final Selection alive," He muttered in my ear as I felt his cheek against my head. Similar to a parent hugging their kid who's about to go on some long trip away from home to sell goods, "Both your sister and I will be waiting for you three here."

As my arms raised and I hugged him back and buried my face into his shoulder, I found myself thanking the gods above for my mentor who's holding me in his arms. I'm glad I made that decision back on then. It was definitely the right choice..

Third Person Pov

The crackling of fire and the low gurgling of vegatables boiling was the sounds that filled the hut that night. All eyes were on the food. Tanjiro gawked noisely, his cherry colored hues blown wide like his mouth. Sumiko sat beside him after previously being dragged out of the room they slept in by the intoxicating smell. She had a dank-colored book cuddled close to her chest and she stared at every bit of food with hungry eyes, drool had even began peaking from the corner of her lips—the sight was like staring at a demon who had just set its sights on a human after not seeing one in years.

Y/n seemed to be the only one not showing her surprise or hunger on her face. As she sat in the middle of her siblings and Urokodaki, she stared down at the food; her otherwise dim eyes lit under the fire's glow. They were distant, as if what was right before her was miles away and her lips were nailed into a thin straight line that hadn't left her face since she had returned to the hut. Her hand had found place fiddling and she mindlessly had one of her fingers pushing up against the nail of her middle finger—not using nearly enough force to hurt herself or pop it off, of course. Nevertheless, her otherwise lost in thought, slightly troubled-looking expression had lost it's edge a long time ago when the first grumble sounded from her empty stomach.

In short, she looked like an anxious little kid in the eyes of her mentor and he and the other two ultimately didn't pay her much mind.

"What's the occasion? There's so much," Tanjiro finally asked, his voice matching his expression as he broke his gaze away from the food boiling in the pot to Urokodaki, who had a wooden bowl in hand.

"You all have completed your training so we're celebrating," His mentor said as he scooped up some of the food with the ladle and dumped it into the bowl. His voice laced with this cheeriness that was unusual to their ears. Now with the bowl in his hand steaming and filled, he lifts it up to Tanjiro and says, "Don't be shy. Eat to your heart's content."

Tanjiro perks up, smiling widely as he takes the bowl from him, "Thank you very much!"

Sumiko's to follow, her eyes gleaming as she watches Urokodaki's every movement. When the next bowl is finally filled, she immediately reaches for it, having long since set her book aside. And, as soon as it's in her hands, she uses her chopsticks and shoves some food in her mouth, mid-chew as she finally mumbles out a muffled, "Thank you."

"Sumiko, that was rude," Tanjiro scolds, voice light yet tone stern just like his mother would do to his other younger siblings, "You shouldn't talk with your mouth full like that."

Shoving more food into her mouth, she nods. And this time, she quickly chews the food in her mouth, swallows it, and then replies with a small, "Sorry.."

"It's alright. I don't mind," Urokodaki said, lifting a bowl in Y/n's direction. She blinks as if she was surprised, but soon takes the bowl out of his hands, muttering a low, "Thanks.."

Idle chatter filled the room after that. With Tanjiro being the main speaker as he hopped topics. From talking about how good the food is to praising his sister for being able to slice her boulder in only half a year to which she brushed it off before changing the subject altogether. Sumiko was too busy stuffing her face to add any commentary, but she listened intently to every word that left her older siblings' lips.

Urokodaki watched all three of them in silence, taking in every expression they made no matter how miniscule. He milked in their faces as if it was the last thing he'd be able to do, all while thinking unspoken words he found ill-suited to speak aloud, lest he wanted to ruin what possibly could be their last moment of peace.

"There's nothing more I can do for you all. From here on out, you three will be put through such hardship and strife that your training will seem like nothing in comparison. So for now, at least, I hope you're able to rest well tonight without a care in the world.."

Snip. Snip. Snip. Burgundy-tipped hair falls gingerly onto futon sheets with every slice that echoes through the room. Tanjiro has his hands in his hair, snipping away at the excessively long strands. He struggles just a tad. Every snip with the scissors don't always slice, but he manages relatively well on his own. Even so, Y/n found herself walking up to him anyways..

"Give me those," She said, tone dull to avoid sounding unnecessarily pointed. Tanjiro's face morphs into one of surprise before a smile of gratitude crosses his expression.

"Thanks," He tells her, and Y/n merely hums at him, moving behind him as soon as he places the bulky pair of scissors in her hand.

Sumiko sits against the wall closest to the door. One glance at her could tell you how focused she was. Her thin brows scrunched a little and creased her skin, her lips were glued in a thin line, and her starlight pupils darted along the page of the book she had propped up against her knees. Her grayish blues would pause occasionally upon spotting a rather difficult word and her expression would harden only to ease up when she finally gets past said word. It was a fairly normal sight to others, but Tanjiro and Y/n found themselves glancing over at her more than once that night.

Even after two years, seeing her so concentrated on something felt like being pulled into a lake by an unsuspecting and strong wave; it was befuddling and bewildering if they were to be so blunt.

"Hey, Tanjiro, Y/n, Sumiko," A simple call from their mentor had all three of them pausing what they were doing to look over and give their full attention to him.

Tanjiro was the one who spoke up for them, asking, "Yes?" to which Urokodaki asked his own question, "Did you enjoy that hot pot?"

Their expressions softened in their own ways. With a wide smile stretching on Tanjiro's face, Sumiko nodding her head in silence despite facing his back--that thin line her lips made loosening and quirking up a little, and Y/n's face growing lax.

"Yeah, it was really good!" Tanjiro said, his voice giving away his ear-to-ear expression to the point that Urokodaki could perfectly depict what his face looked like without so much as glancing his way, "We haven't had a feast like that in ages!"

"Growing boys and girls like yourselves with hearty appetites will surely get stronger and grow bigger the more they eat," Urokodaki said only to then follow up with, "But the same goes for demons," which has all three of their faces dropping and or hardening in unison.

"Remember this. A demon is as strong as the number of humans they've devoured," He tells them to which Tanjiro immediately asks, "So, the more they eat, the stronger they get?"

"That's right," And Urokodaki gets up, revealing the clothing folded at his feet—one top in particular bearing the cloudy patterns and light blue color that resembled Urokodaki's.

"Tanjiro, when your sense of smell grows keener, you especially will be able to tell how many humans a demon's consumed," He walks past the clothes and up to the wooden wardrobe, sliding the top half open to reveal some masks laying flat. He grabs them, stacking two on top of each other before grabbing the last one and staring down at it. He then turns on his heel and walks up to Tanjiro and Y/n.

Starting with Tanjiro and ending with Sumiko, Urokodaki hands off each of their respective masks. All three masks were made from the same material and shaped the same to resemble a fox. Each mask, however, bore distinct features and varied in color to better match and take after their suitor. Tanjiro stared down at his mask, which was patterned in red and had a sun painted in the corner by the ear.

"What's this?" Tanjiro was, again, the spokesperson for the three of them. Urokodaki didn't mind it, answering him, "These are warding mask. I've charged each of them with a spell to protect you from harm."

"Warding masks, huh.. Thank you."

The next morning came with the sun just barely peeking over the mountains, causing it's intruding yellow tinge to mix with the retreating grayish blue that the moon had left in it's wake.

Tanjiro stood in the main room of the hut, hair now cut shorter and his torso covered in the familiar blue waves and cloud patterns as his mentor. As he finished tying it, the door to the room next to Nezuko's slid open, revealing his two sisters behind it. Unlike Tanjiro, the two were dressed in their own garbs. Both of which, however, adorned their masks just like him with Sumiko being the odd one out and having hers hanging on her hip instead of her head like her siblings.

They all share knowing glances and Tanjiro nods his head at them. Despite no words being exchanged, they walk up to the door of the room Nezuko resides in and slides it open..

The same sight greets them just as it has been these past two years; Nezuko is laid out, unmoving on that same futon with her eyes closed. Even now, she was still fast asleep with no sign of ever waking up.

Tanjiro is the first to enter the room, his eyes glued to his unconscious sister as he crouched down. He called her name in a low hum with so much love and care that one could possibly mistake him for a heartbroken poet, "Nezuko.."

He laced his rough fingers with her her softer ones before bringing his other hand to cup around the back of her hand. He then lifts it up to level with his forehead and bows his head, all while whispering, "We're coming back for you no matter what, all right?" At this point, Sumiko had long since sat by his side, her hands clasped together and her head bowed as she silently said her own prayers.

Y/n was the only one on her feet, standing by the door as she stared down at Nezuko with a distant look in her eyes. Her pupils swirled with emotion, none of which were caused by or directed at the sleeping demon. Her gaze shifted at some point to Tanjiro and Sumiko's backsides and never left that sight even when they said their goodbyes and stood to their feet. The reason behind her intense gaze was unknown to all but her and she kept that reason locked behind imaginary iron bars, never to escape..

Y/n stepped aside as Sumiko and Tanjiro turned to face her way, her eyes closed. She let Sumiko walk past her, but before Tanjiro could do the same, she grabbed him by the shoulder. He blinked, surprised, and turned his head to look at her for answers for the sudden grab.

Her gaze never met his. They didn't even look up to glance at his face and because of her hair—that stubbornly shielded the sides of her face like a curtain—he couldn't even begin to decipher her facial expression. The heartbreaking aroma of fear that clung to her gave him some idea, although every one that came to mind bothered him greatly.

"Hey.." He was already frowning. Her voice is soft. Too soft. As if she feared raising her voice for whatever reason. Or, it was if she feared what she'd give away if she did, "Are you..really sure you want to go through with this? Are you sure you want to enter that kind of world and shatter what little happiness you have left?"

Tanjiro decided not to question why she excluded herself. He wants to, he's desperate to, wanting nothing more than to get so much as a glimpse into her world. Wanting nothing more than to see life through her eyes for even just a moment if it meant he'd be even a step closer to being able to truly understanding her.

..But would asking her be the right move? He never knows the answer to that when it comes to her. Would throwing questions at her and putting a bit of pressure on her make her break and spill everything to him? No, Y/n has never been so fragile. It's more likely of her to simply not answer or throw whatever she can at him to throw him over the wrong edge so that there'd be a mountain of distance between them that would take him years to climb up..

But is even that true? That raises the question; what is true about her?

He'll ask. Not today, but one day, he will. Until then, he has to continue climbing and reaching out to her and grasping at thin ropes while praying they don't snap under his weight. He has to be slow and patient and take his time so that when the day finally comes, she'll reach out to him, grab his hand, and help him up the rest of the way.

"I do," He finally answers her, "I have to. For Nezuko's sake."

"Right," She whispers back. Tanjiro watches her let out a heavy sigh, "Forget I said anything then," And then, she gently kicks herself off the wall she was leaning on and Tanjiro moves out of her way so that she could walk through the door.

One day, he'll get her to grab his hand. For now though, he needs to focus on what's right in front of him; the Final Selection process.

"Don't worry about your sister. I'll take good care of her," Urokodaki said. The three of them were outside with him now, ready to depart from the hut they've called home for the past two years. The hut that they're are all praying to return back to.

"All right! Thank you so much! We'll be going, then!" With that smily thanks from Tanjiro, they all began running, "Bye, Mr. Urokodaki!" They're figures grow smaller in seconds with how fast they're running. Just as they get to the dip that signals the true starting point of their descent, Tanjiro stops and looks back. He raises his hand, making Urokodaki believe he was about to shout yet another goodbye. But instead, he shouts, "Give my thanks to Sabito and Makomo for me!"

Urokodaki pauses mid-wave, his hand froze in place in the air. Tanjiro's figure is swallowed as he finally runs down the trail to catch up with Y/n and Sumiko. Urokodaki continues staring, hand slowly lowering to chin level and still open as if he was about to raise it again and give another wave. His mask was the same angry expression as always which would make one possibly believe that in this moment, he was enraged. However, that wasn't the case. And, if Tanjiro was still here, he'd be able to tell by a simple whiff that his words had left his mentor in bewildered shock.

"Tanjiro.. How do you know the names of those deceased children?"

First Person, Tanjiro's Pov

By the time we reached the mountain and made our way to the top, the cresent moon was out and the sky was painted a dark, grayed blue and was filled with clouds that swirled around in a way that gave an almost ominous vibe. Looking up at it on the way up made me a little nervous, but then once I got to the top, that feeling blew away with the gentle breeze.

As we walked, it felt like we were entering a whole new world. Everywhere you looked, there were trees with twisting roots that led a trail up it's length to the wisteria that hung and showed off it's beauty in varying lengths of its own. There were so many, all so large and full of life that it completely covered the unwelcoming sky above and painted everything around us in this gorgeous light violet tint. As pleasant as it was, it was certainly a surprise. Kinda like walking outside expecting for rain to cool you off in a heatwave but instead getting snow.

"Look at all of this," I said as I paused and reached my hand out to carress the petals of the tree closest to me, "Even though they're out of season, they all seem to be thriving just fine."

"Mount Fujikasane grows these wisteria trees year-round. The same can't be said for the entire mountain, though. The higher we go, you'll eventually stop seeing them," I would've maybe expected that response from Y/n, but to hear Sumiko say that was surprising. I wasn't alone. I could tell Y/n was as caught off guard as I am by the way she stops walking and tilts her head to glance back at her.

"How do you know that?" She asked, but it sounded oddly aggressive. Or maybe it's just because I haven't heard her really speak in a while—with all three of us having done our own thing for the past year and all. In the end, I brushed it off and turned to look at Sumiko, waiting for her to answer Y/n's question.

She does, her voice gentle and speech as smooth as the petals in my grasp as she simply said, "I read about it."

I perk up at this, "So is that what you were reading about all this time?" I retract my hand, my smile growing even though all she gives me in the end is a silent nod.

In such a short amount of time, she's grown so much that it's hard to believe she couldn't walk or talk at all a few years ago. I'm relieved that she's seemed to have recovered so much.

"We should just be glad that these flowers are here and that we won't have to worry about anything like a sudden attack just yet," Y/n said. It left me a little puzzled. Were these flowers more special than what I knew? Before I could ask, Y/n had already began walking again and making her way up to the large stone stairs that led up the mountain. Me and Sumiko had no choice but to follow after her.

As we reached the top, I found myself stopping to gawk at the sight before me before I even made it to the top of the steps. There were so many people, all of which had a sword on their hips—most of which baring hardened and dirtied faces caused by grueling training surely.

I began walking again, head turning to get a good look of everyone I walk past. Each had their own scent, all of which were impressive in their own right. Not only that, but their appearances spoke so much, each giving me a small insight of what they went through.

It's nothing like the village I grew up in.

"Everyone," I pause, turning my head to the direction of the voices to see two little girls. They were identical in appearance aside from their hair which were different colors—the one on the left having black hair darker than the forest at night while the other has hair as white as a snow bunny.

"We thank you for coming here tonight," They said in unison. Their voices blended together perfectly to the point it sounded like a singular, layered voice, "To the Demon Slayer Corps Final Selection."

The girl with the snow hair spoke alone, her voice sounding thin now without her twin to back her up, "There are demons imprisoned here on Mt. Fujikasane which have been captured alive by the Demon Slayer swordsmen. They are unable to leave."

Then her twin spoke, her voice sounding the same, "That is because wisteria, which demons hate so much, blooms year-round from the bottom to halfway up the mountain."

The white-haired girl spoke again, "However, there is no wisteria from this point on and so demons abound."

The black haired girl spoke, "You'll need to survive here for seven days to pass Final Selection," They then spoke in unison once again, "And now, be on your way," And they bowed their head at us.

It was finally time. The moment of truth. I was ready for anything, but apparently Y/n wasn't because she grabbed me by my shoulder, stopping me from walking.

People walked by us, but I gave her my full attention in that moment. I had to—lest I wanted to miss little details that could help me understand the true intentions behind whatever she says.

"It's never too late to back down," She said, "And it won't make you a coward for prioritizing your life."

That when I felt it—the slight tremor in her palm. Her hand was trembling. And her scent..she's scared. Y/n, who took on a mother boar by herself once when we were younger after Shigeru accidentally angered it by touching it's baby, was scared. I could feel my heart clenching in my chest. It was odd, it hurt. Seeing her—who I grew up believing was the bravest girl in the world—so frightened felt like a jab in the chest. A jab that turned into a full blow stab when I realized I was the cause of it..

Brows knitted together, I reach up and grab her hand which still rested, shaking on my shoulder. I peel it off and hold it in my hand, turning my body in her direction as my other hand comes up to cup the other side of her hand. With both hands, I gave her hand a firm squeeze and looked her in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, but I can't give up. Not until Nezuko's turned back into a human," I said to her, probably sounding like a broken record at this point, but it was necessary. She needed to know how important this was and I'm willing to say it as many times as I have to until she does.

She's probably noticed that she's shaking because she took her hand away from mine and balled it into a fist. Her eyes leave mine and I noticed it travel over to Sumiko, who stood beside us. They locked eyes, but it only last a few seconds before Y/n broke eye contact with her and let out a sigh.

"Guess I have no choice then as well.. Just..don't die, please," I couldn't help the surprised look that washed over me or the way my eyes widened to further show it. I've..never heard her sound like that. Sounding so..what would I even describe this as? Anxious? Hopeless? Desperate? None of those seem to exactly fit the bill, but it's the closest words I can think of to describe that cracked whisper that slipped from her lips.

"I won't," I tell her, mustering up every bit of confidence in my body and continued, "I promise," I could see Sumiko nodding along in my peripheral vision, her silent agreement to do the same. It made any nerves that may have been bubbling inside me disappear.

"..Let's go," I said, walking after the last couple of people who just passed us.

We will pass this Final Selection process no matter what's thrown at us. I'll show Y/n how capable I am and put her mind at ease. I'll become a Demon Slayer and find a cure for Nezuko. No matter what!

Third Person Pov

"Survive for seven days.. That's all I'm going to think about," Tanjiro thought to himself, left hand firm on his sheath. As the three of them ran through the forest, the only sound filling his ears being the loud crunch of grass as it was trampled under their feet and the sound of his steady breathing.

"First, we have to survive the night," They pause at a rock—Tanjiro in particular crouching against it—as they took a moment to look around, "Once the sun comes up, the demons won't be able to do anything so we can rest then."

"Let's head east," He said, thinking, "We'll make our way to where the sunlight will hit first!" With a nod of their heads, Tanjiro stands to his feet and the three of them begin running once again.

A sharp, blood curdling scream echoes across the forest. Sumiko falters, so does Tanjiro which causes Y/n to ultimately come to a stop as well.

"Don't get shaken up, we can't stay in one place for long," She said to them, "Let's— Hey!" Mid sentence, Sumiko had taken off in the direction of the scream to which her older brother shouted, "Sumiko!"

"Don't split up, idiot!" Y/n screamed after her as her sister's figure grew smaller with every passing second, "Do you want to die that badly? Get your ass back here!"

As a curse was breathed through Y/n's clenched teeth, a thought crossed Tanjiro's mind, "Someone's in trouble. Even if this is a test, it'd be wrong to do nothing," He turns his head over to Y/n, saying, "We should follow her and help out."

And just as he began running, he forced his body to stop, his feet sliding against the pavement. His other hand immediately latched onto his sword's handle just as Y/n did the same.

"This smell..a demon's nearby!" Tanjiro thought, his head darting left and right as did Y/n's.

The forest was eerily quiet. Their breaths hitched and stilled in their throat, scared to do as much as even breath in fear of missing any slight change or noise around them. Y/n's steps were careful and faint as she crept backwards, stopping when she felt the heat radiating off of Tanjiro's body. Silence filled the area again. Not so much as a breeze could be heard—or maybe that could be a result of their eardrums going numb from holding their breath for so long..

"Where is it? Where's it coming from?" Tanjiro thought, a murky scent actively invading his nose from all directions, "I can't pinpoint the direction of the scent!"

"Sense it! Sense it!" Y/n thoughts screamed at her as her narrowed gaze burned into everything she looked at, "Don't give it a chance to surprise you! Find and dispose of the threat quickly so that you can go and find Sumiko!"

Then a sharp scent, and an even sharper presence, has them looking up in unison.

"Above!" Y/n thought at the same time Tanjiro asked, "From above?"

In that instance, a demon emerged from the leaves of a tree, it's figure shrouded in darkness as it lept and came charging down from the sky at a rapid pace. The two went in opposite directions to dodge—Tanjiro barreling out of the way whilst Y/n takes a large jump backwards in the nick of time. A thick cloud of dust kicks up immediately upon the demon's rough landing and as the dust begins to clear, Tanjiro uses the time to regain his footing by rolling to his feet.

The dust clears, revealing the demon in all of it's monstrousness. It's in an awkward position, it's enlongated tongue sticking out and veins covering every inch of it's skin and leading up it's arms, which were disfigured and sharpened like a blade.

Then, a slightly different smell nicks Tanjiro's nose. He turns around just in time to see another demon above him, claws raised and ready to sink into his flesh. Tanjiro whips out his sword as the demon slashes down causing them to meet at a point and clash. There's barely a second of struggle before Tanjiro's forced away in one direction.

"Damn you!" The longer, blue haired demon cursed before immediately charging at the shorter, brown haired demon that had just attacked Tanjiro—who had long slid to a stop after being flung.

"Don't even try to grab my prey! I saw 'em first!" It said as it struggled against the brown-haired demon's claws.

"Get off my turf damnit!" It replied back to which the blue haired one replied immediately, "The hell with you! Just beat it!"

The fact that they were fighting over him like a piece of meat was quickly smushed and pushed to the back of Tanjiro's mind. He needs to focus! Use the opportunity to kill them!

But can he? "Two of them from the get-go? Can I take them?" He found himself wondering as the demons had their back and forth in front of him.

"That's my prey!" The blue-haired demon yelled.

"Shut up!" The brown-haired one shouted back before charging forward, screaming, "It's first come, first served!"

He leaps into the air, forcing the other to follow suit. Ravaneous and out for blood, both demons come charging at Tanjiro with the intent on devouring any and every morsel of flesh and blood they can get their hands on.

Tanjiro gasps, moves hesitant as he brings his sword upwards to block. The brown haired demon's claws slide against his blade before colliding with the ground behind Tanjiro. The blue haired demon has the perfect opportunity to claim his prize, but he's immediately swatted back. The chance arose and the brown haired demon used it to kick at Tanjiro as he jumps back. He flies for a moment before his feet plant on the ground and he slides until he kills his momentum entirely, kicking up a bit of dust at his feet in the process.

Sweat beads all over Tanjiro's face and his mouth is open, taking in gulps of air at a time. His heart beats like a playing drum in his chest, causing his chest to feel uncomfortably light after the realization strikes him; he could've died just now.

"I'm okay, no need to panic!" He tells himself in a quick attempt to calm his nerves. Now's not the time to have a panic attack after all, "Just need to calm down and watch their movements! Remember the training!"

The demon's charge at him once again, the brown-haired one saliviating—which is swept away by the wind produced from how fast he's speeding towards Tanjiro—as he screams, "It's been ages since I've had human flesh!"

It's final words.

"Total Concentration! Water Breathing!" As Tanjiro sucks in a clear breath and allows it to slowly fill his chest, the scent of the thread hits his noise, calling from the demons' weaknesses. It tightens the instant it's in his line of sight and, in that moment, he jumps foward.

Like flowing water amongst a stream, Tanjiro's blade slices through the brown-haired demon's neck, "Fourth Form!" His blade moving as if encased in the very liquid he mimics as moves down then up in a flowing fashion, catching the blue-haired demon in it's steady rivulet and seperating his head from his body in an instant.

"Striking Tide!"

As he found his feet planting on the ground once again, Tanjiro whips his head back. The demons, now in pieces, disintigrate. Their bodies just about completely burned to ash by the time they hit the ground.

"I did it!" Tanjiro realized, his shoulders slumping just a tad from the adrenline being pushed out of his mouth in the form of transparent clouds of air, "I defeated demons! I've grown stronger!"

He looked at his hand, the hand that had a part in dealing the finishing blow that put those demons out of their misery. He balls it into a fist, his eyes closing to conceal the tears that had begun to fill them at the feeling of the warmth that had already begun to swell; that rewarding feeling that accompained his victory—a sense of self-satisfaction.

"All that training wasn't for nothing! I actually mastered it!"

Tanjiro takes a moment to let the tears fall, feeling as if he deserved to allow himself that much, before their quickly wiped from his face. He approaches the demons' corpses—which seem to finally be on their last cinders—and watches as the rest of their remains finally disappear into ash and float away in the wind until even the ashes withered away.

Tanjiro takes a glance at the sword in his hand afterwords. His awe, for once, not written on his face, "If I slash a demon with this sword Mr. Urokodaki gave me, it seems that not even the bones are left behind.."

Then, as if he had transversed back in time, a slice is heard by him, marking the beginning of the memory. He sees it clearly—Urokodaki lands a swift, clean diagonal slice to the browned, hay-looking shoot he had propped up moments ago..

"A demon's weak spot is its neck!" He remembers him telling them one time during training after the demonstration, "But you can't kill it with a normal sword even if you slash its neck."

A question arose in Tanjiro's mind as he said this, so he asked, "Then how can we take it down?"

"The swords wielded by the Demon Slayer Corps were forged with a special kind of steel," Urokodaki answered as he held up the sword now sheathed in its scabbard, "That's the only way to kill a demon."

"They're called 'Nichirin Swords.'"

As the memory fades, Tanjiro snaps back to reality. As if he had done it a million times before, Tanjiro goes through the motion of putting his sword away. He flick his wrist, flinging away any blood residue that could rust the blade. With his other hand, he props the scabbard upright. He then slides the blade against the opening of the scabbard, and finally, inserts it inside once the tip of the blue-shining blade lines up with the hole, pushing the blade in until it completely disappears inside the metal scabbard and the guard hits it with a small clink.

He lets go of the handle, clasping his hand together as he bows his head in the direction of where the demons' corpses once laid. A small prayer is recited in his head as he muttered out, "Rest in peace."

As he raises his head, he looks around, "I only got a glimpse for a moment, but a few demons attacked Y/n as well. Did she.." He shakes his head, the grim image that popped in his mind being shook away in the process, "No, don't think like that. Y/n is a very skilled person, she's definitely fine!"

"I should just focus on finding her. She couldn't have gotten far—" He stops, his face attempting to scrunch in on itself as he brought his hand up to pinch his nose—a desperate attempt to keep the disgusting odor that just hit him out of his nostrils.

"What's that rotten smell?" He mutters, looking back just in time to catch a boy running away, his face contorted in fear.

"No one ever told me about this! I didn't sign up for this!" The boy shouted.

Tanjiro leans his hand against a tree near him, the question raising in his head, "What's going on?" as he peers over to look. As soon as he does, his heart stills in his chest.

His teeth clench, his brows knit, and the world around him pauses for only a moment. He couldn't feel anything in that moment aside from the terror he felt at what he saw, and, as soon as he could feel the blood pumping in his limbs again, he immediately moved to hide behind the tree.

As if the fright was so bad that it evaporated all the air stored in his lungs, Tanjiro heaved through his opened mouth in a desperately fast rhythm. He finds the courage to finally peek again, his eyes zeroing in on the gigantic silhouette walking amongst the trees as he wonders..

"What the hell is that thing?"

"Hey, Sabito. Do you think Tanjiro can beat that demon?" The question was asked by the soft-tone, gentle-faced Makomo as she stared up at the pink haired male sat atop the boulder before her—the rope that's usually around it cut and on the ground, circled around the rock.

The answer sits in the air for a moment before it's answered, "I don't know," He says, wholly uncertain despite his tone, which could make one believe otherwise by how strong and unwavering it is.

"No matter how hard you try, its never enough when it comes to that one," He said, "You know that well enough already though, don't you?"

Running as fast as his legs could carry him, the fright-filled boy is too late to notice the branch that bleeds into the ground and ends up tripping and falling. As if all his fear went straight to his legs as soon as he hit the ground, he doesn't move and instead looks back with dread written all over his expression.

"What's this morphed demon doing here anyway? They should've warned us beforehand!"

The morphed demon in question treads towards him. Every step it takes shaking the ground beneath it's feet and leaving a permanent imprint in it's wake. It's steps boom, sounding more like stomping despite his movements saying otherwise..

It's a grotesque shade of green with large, horribly smelling and meaty arms caged around it's body, leaving it up to the imagination to figure out what could possibly be behind them—or, if there'd be anything behind them at all. From what it seems like, the demon is entirely made up of hands and arms.

As it walks, it holds it's snack in hand; a boy no older than Tanjiro. He was being held up by the neck and the lack of movement and the chillingly zoned out expression on his face made it clear that he had long since left the world in a unnervingly cracking way.

The demon suddenly raises the body higher into the air, causing the boy's legs to sway limply. The boy on the ground has to cup a hand over his mouth to keep from throwing up as he watched as the demon slowly threw his hand back, opening up a large, slimy, saliva-filled black hole between twisted arms that one can only assume was his mouth.

The demon lowers him in. His corpse gets covered in thick, gooey slob, making the blood that dried around the dead's mouth mix with it and run down his limp body as it disappeared into the demon's mouth. Once completely inside, the black hole slowly closed and a symphony of sickening cracks echo throughout the forest as bones are broken down between, what one could only imagine as, bloody teeth behind swamp-colored arms.

If Tanjiro wasn't so in shock by what he was witnessing, he'd be on the verge of, if not already, puking up this morning's breakfast and yesterday's dinner just like the boy on the ground.

What happened next would be hard to explain accurately to someone without growing sick on the stomach. After enjoying it's meal and savoring the thick, copper-tasting liquid by swishing it around in it's mouth—and coating it in deep crimson—the demon trembled as it grew in size. It's already bulky arms grew meatier, thicker—like a moldy meat patty, accentuating the thick veins in every hand all the more.

It's only then that the boy on the ground realizes he has functional legs it seems, because it's only then that he stumbles to his feet and attempts to run away. Behind him, the demon reaches out a hand, and then another, and another, and another. Multiple mold-colored hands reached out and forced themselves together into this gaint, beefy mess. It bubbles and grows until finally, they shoot out and separate, grabbing the boy by the ankle and snatching him into the air in an instant.

Tanjiro jaws falls and then locks in place, leaving him silently gasping. His roughened hands tremble as they hovered over the handle of the sword at his waist. He's scared, terrified, but he screams at himself in his head, "Don't wimp out!" and forces his fingers to squeeze the handle.

His legs shake, threatening to buckle and make him fall to the ground, but he tenses up—forcing them to stiffen as he screams at himself to save the boy. Save him!

"Save him! Save him! Save him!"

"You aren't powerless anymore, so move your feet! Move! Save him!"

Tanjiro leaps into the air, sword already whipped out and cocked back as he takes in a sharp breath, "Total Concentration! Water Breathing! Second Form!"

"Water wheel!" Like a hurdling, spinning basin of water, Tanjiro does a singular vertical slash in circulating motion, rotating like a water-made sun and slicing off the hand holding the boy's ankle captive in seconds time.

Tanjiro lands on the ground, watching as the boy follows suit, tumbling face first. While he's recovering, he quickly moves in front of him. Not taking the chance of glancing away from the monster before him in fear of the roles being reversed and him getting snatched up just like the boy did.

It's only now that his limb's been severed that the demon takes note of Tanjiro's presence. He glances down at him, taking in his form and pausing at the sight of the familiar hand-carved fox mask.

"Another sweet little fox has come to me," He said, his eyes turning up with glee, "And so soon after the last one, today must be my lucky day."

"Another?" Tanjiro parrots, hung up on every word he says and slowly absorbing it. His question is left unaswered by the demon as he moves on to ask his own question.

"Tell me, little fox cub," He said, "What Meiji Emperor sits upon the throne?" The sudden ask strikes confusion in Tanjiro. "Meiji?" He repeated in his mind before replying to the demon.

"The imperial family is Taisho right now!" He clarified only for the demon to mimic him slowly, "Taisho..?"

He mulls over his words as slowly as his uncomfortably large, yellow eyes roll. Taisho? Taisho. He's in the Taisho era? His pupils grow smaller every time he repeats those words to himself.

And like a bomb exploding, he suddenly roars out. His bellow is carried across the forest, surely alerting everyone of his unforseen anger. He stomps the hands he calls feet and kicks up dust in the process. His tomato nails dig into his own moldy, meaty flesh, ripping open gash after gash, and even then, he still scratches at the bloody openings he made.

"You're saying I've been here so long that dynasties have risen and fallen?" He yells out, voice straining from his fury which only rises with every word he speaks, "Again and again! All while I've been held prisoner inside this flowery hell!"

"Unforgivable! Unforgivable!" He repeats, his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his skull from how worked up he's getting, "Damn you, Urokodaki! Damn you!"

"Damn you, Urokodaki!"

"You know Mr. Urokodaki?" Tanjiro bravely asked him to which the hand demon so graciously answered this time, "I know him, all right! Urokodaki was the one who captured me!"

"It's been forty-seven tortorous years!" He yelled, "Back then he was still hunting demons! It was the Edo Period during the Keio Era!"

Tanjiro couldn't wrap his head around it. Edo Period? But that was so long ago, how has he..

"You're lying!" The boy shouted out from where he sat behind Tanjiro. It seemed he was in as much disbelief as him, if not more, "No demon has ever lived that long!"

"The only demons that should be in here should be the ones who've eaten just two or three humans! They don't get the chance to live that long because they're killed during Final Selection!" He yelled, "Some even resort to cannibalism! Against those odds there's no way you could've stayed alive for that long!"

"And yet here I am, more live than ever," The demon retorted in a simple tone of voice, "Inside this wisteria prison, I've eaten at least fifty of you brats!"

That's when Tanjiro spoke again, crying out, "That many?" Instead of answering his regurgitated question, the demon holds up four hands as he begins counting out of the blue.

"Eleven.. Twelve.." He holds up a finger for every number he counts, "Thirteen.." With all four of those same hands, he points them all at Tanjiro as he says so gleefully says, "That makes you number fourteen!"

A chill ran down Tanjiro's spine, "What are you talking about?"

The demon holds his many hands up to the arm that covers the lower half of his face and giggles like schoogirl with a crush. It's unnerving to the ears, giving the same vibe as a little kid laughing at the sight of their family's remains scattered on the ground.

"The number of Urokodaki's disciples I've eaten, that's what!" He giggles again, "I promised myself when I killed one of his first students that I'd kill every single one I happen across and I've been going strong ever since!"

Tanjiro could do nothing but gasp in horror as the hand demon continued, "You would've been number fifteen if that one hadn't managed to slip my grasp before I could devour her!"

"Talk about silent fury! I couldn't even get everything I wanted to say out before she started slicing at these arms and hands of mine!" He holds up some of his jelly-like arms, "She was so quick on her feet! Agile to boot! She kept on hopping around every which way and no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't nab her!" He said, and from the tone he used, he'd most likely have a pout to go along with his sulking if his lips weren't covered by veiny arms. That sullen tone didn't last long, though, because he immediately goes back to giggling.

"I was lucky enough that the boy I just ate came along when he did! Trying to play hero, he jumped to assist her and she faltered!" Another giggle sounds from the demon as a murky swamp of dread began to fill Tanjiro's stomach, "I'll admit that I grew a little frustrated with her and her attitude! When I reached out for the boy and she jumped to save him, I accidentally smacked her away with more force than intended and sent her flying across half the forest!"

As the demon sulked, Tanjiro slowly painted a picture in his head. A nimble girl with a bit of an attitude and who was around to fight this demon just before he got involved? That sounds familiar.. It can only be.. No..

"..Is he talking about Y/n?" The realization sunk in like a boat sinking in the ocean, drowning out his senses—but not fast enough for him to miss the demon's next words.

"She wasn't the only one who caught my eye. Let's see.. Ah, yes! The ones who really stood out to me were those two.."

"I'll never forget.. That brat's hair was an unusual shade of pink," Tanjiro involuntarily cringes at the constant high-pitched spiking his voice did whenever he enuciated his p's and k's, "He was most powerful. 'Had a scar around his mouth."

"The other one was a female brat in a flowery kimono. She was small, and unlike the girl I just fought, she was lacking in power but— Oh, was she awfully agile like her!"

It felt as if Tanjiro's world had turned grayer and slower. There was so much to take in, or maybe that was because he was becoming overwhelmed, "They're already dead? But how? I trained with them! And Y/n..did this demon really manage to kill her so easily?"

The demon goes to pointing again, this time with more hands, "I recognized you how I did all the others—the fox mask."

"I know the texture of the masks Urokodaki carves because they're the same style of carving he used for his own goblin mask!"

"He calls them warding masks, right?" The demon crack up all over again, veins bulging as his arms-for-shoulders shake under the velocity of his giggling, "It's funny to me. Everyone got eaten up because they wore those masks!" And his giggling turns into full blown laughter. As if what he said was the funniest thing in the world.

"They're all in my belly!" Veins crack out of Tanjiro's skin and flex against it. Steadily, that sinking feeling of sadness and dread is wash away by an angry sea as the demon continued talking, "Urokodaki might as well have fed them to me!" The sea was hot, boiling even, and nothing can stop it from pooling over every nook and crany of his body with the more his ears are assualted by the demon's grating voice.

"Hehe.." He snickered with that uneven, squeaky voice of his, "When I said that to that girl with the flowery kimono, she started crying and flew into a rage! Soon after that, her movements got shaky and she completely lost control of herself!"

"I grabbed her, ripped her limb to limb and then—" Crack. Like a vase full of hot water breaking, Tanjiro's anger boiled over and he lunged forward, his eyes devoid of everything but the boiling resentment that swallowed every follicle of his brain and body.

Green arms shot out at a rapid speed, all of which were swiftly sliced away by Tanjiro as he passed them by while letting out a yell that bubbled up straight from the depths of his stomach.

Sabito watched from his spot on the boulder in the clearing of the forest where he and Tanjiro sparred on numerous occasions. His facial expression unknown due to his mask.

"Calm down, Tanjiro. Your breathing's uneven," He said, "It's all right!. Never mind us! Just get a grip on yourself and focus before it's too late!"

A crack bounces up Tanjiro's ribcage as his body curves into the fist the demon had manage to dig painfully into his side. The dug into his side for a moment, departing only when he's successfully flung him into the trunk of a tree. The impact immediately renders Tanjiro unconscious and the momentum has him bouncing off the wood and falling face-first into the ground.

And as he collides with the cold, rocky ground, a huge crack forms in his masks. One, then two, then the third one has the cracks spreading instanteously before it finally breaks and falls apart into little pieces..

The demon takes slow stomps towards Tanjiro's unconscious form and as his back turns, the boy that was bravely saved by Tanjiro saw his opportunity. Not to help him, but to run as far away as possible from this mess.

"I'm getting out of here while the demon's taking out that guy!" He thought.

As the demon treads closer, trampling dirt into the shape of the hands he uses as feet, he suddenly paused to take in the sight of Tanjiro laid out before him, giggling up a storm in the process.

"Another one of Urokodaki's brats are dying by my hands!" He thought giddily, "I have to wonder.. How's he gonna feel when more of his kids fail to make it home? What kind of look will he have on his face?" His giggling morphs into cackling once again as one of his hands slowly forms to reach for Tanjiro, ready to devour him like he's done to all the others..

"Oh man, I wish I could see it. I really do.." As the arms extend towards him, spelling out his doom with in the form of disgusting, green fingers, a faint voice calls out to Tanjiro. One familiar and that of a little boy's..

"Big bro!" The voice called, "Big bro! Wake up!" And Tanjiro answers to that call, eyes shooting open as his body moves on its own, forcing himself to roll out of the way, much to the hand demon's suprise.

"He dodged it? He can still move after that?" He thought before his eyes smiled and he shouted, "Great! That means I can have more fun!"

Flexing into an awakard, bird-winged position, the demon flexes and shoots out multiple hands. Tanjiro slashes them away and jumps back, but hand demon merely sucks them back in, heals them, and shoots them right back out to follow after him.

"Damn! no matter how many arms I cut, they grow back in seconds!" Tanjiro thought as he ran, teeth clenched and bared. The stressed look on his face and fleeting form only proves to fill the hand demon's with even more glee.

"You can't defeat me just by slashing off my arms," He said cockily, "Then again, even that pink-haired brat couldn't slice off my head!"

Tanjiro comes to a sudden halt, twisting his upper half so he can slice a hand that had managed to get uncomfortably close to him. His grip on his blade tightens and he runs at the hand demon once again.

Hand after hand gets seperate from their arms as Tanjiro makes quick work of slicing them up as he runs. He beguns to breathe in, but a sudden scent has him pausing, "A demon's scent from the ground?" Confused, he jumps into the air, and sure enough, it was an attempted surprise attack; arms sprout from the ground like bamboo shoots and follow after Tanjiro—who continued to soar high into the sky.

"H- He jumped! Damnit, I missed him!" The demon thought to himself, taken back for a mere moment before his confidence returns, "No matter. Even if he managed to dodge that, there's no way he can dodge an attack mid-air!" With that in mind, green flesh turned gooey as it meshes together once again, forming a big cannon—and this time, shooting out as one hand big enough to completely crush Tanjiro's skull; the same move the hand demon made that brought the once powerful Sabito's life to a bloody end..

"Do you think Tanjiro's going to lose, too? That demon's neck is really tough after all," Makomo said in that silent clearing. Unable to help the way her mind shrouds with doubt from the uncertainty of the situation.

"He may lose, he may win," Sabito says vaguely before following up with, "Either way, there's one irrefutable fact.."

"Tanjiro is the man who sliced the toughest, largest boulder of them all."

As the large hand comes flying at his head, Tanjiro throws his head back before hurling his whole body weight forward, causing him to flip over the hand just as it was beginning to close in on him. The hand demon's eyes widened. He couldn't believe it!

"He deflected me!"

Running along the huge, disgusting arm, Tanjiro has a clear shot..or did. As soon as he began running towards the demon's neck, smaller arms popped out from the larger one and sped towards Tanjiro..

"Total Concentration!" He sucks in a large breath as fast as the hands were coming at him, "Water Breathing!" As soon as they were even an inch in Tanjiro's vicinity, the limbs were roughly hacked off one by one at a quick speed. As they began reatreating, Tanjiro used the opportunity to leap forward and curl into himself, preparing his slash as he descended toward's the hand demon's neck..

"He got too close to me!" The hand demon remarked, a surge of panic shooting through him before dissipating as he told himself, "Not to worry. My neck is tough! He can't slash it!"

"First Form!"

"As soon as he fails to cut my neck, I'm going to crush his head!"

Now that he's in range, it's now or never! Letting out a battle cry, Tanjiro grips his swords as tightly as he can and performs a singular swing..

..And in that instant it's over. Like a rushing current striking through a boulder, Tanjiro cleaves the hand demon's head off it's hands-for-a-body—finally putting an end to this stream of misfortune dealt by this monster's hands!

"Water Surface Slash!"

Tanjiro Kamado | *Imitating himself* Water Surface Slash! *Hands on his hips* How was that? How cool am I?

Nezuko Kamado | Mhmp! Mhmp!

Tanjiro Kamado | *Upset & Shocked* What? Sabito was cooler than me? C- C'mon, Nezuko!

Author Ari | *Smiles* I thought you were pretty amazing, Tanjiro! (*^_^*)

Tanjiro Kamado | *Smiles back, shoulders slouching* "Really? I'm glad at least you think so.. *Straightens up* But anyways, why are you here, Ms. Ari? Aren't you still sick?

Author Ari | *Pats back* Ahhh, don't worry! I took some meds before I wrote and edited this! I'm feeling fine right now! ('▽'ʃ♡ƪ)

Nezuko Kamado | *Tilts head* Hm?

Author Ari | Anywhoo, around this time Paradise should be hitting it's first milestone—one thousand reads! I'd like to thank you all for the support on this book! It really means a lot to me! I'll try my hardest to write and pop out these chapters and keep everyone entertained! q(≧▽≦q)

Tanjiro Kamado | Thank you everyone for a thousand reads! And please, keep supporting this book! I want you guys to be there every step of the way as me and the others continue looking for ways to turn Nezuko back!

Nezuko Kamado | *Claps* Mmmm!

Tanjiro Kamado | Now, onto the Taisho Era Secret! *Leans in and whispers* Apparently there's a blond boy named Zenitsu roaming somewhere around the mountain.. I heard he was brought here after he got slapped by his master for refusing to take the selection exam!

Author Ari | *Giggles* He sounds like a silly little guy. I hope I get the chance to meet him! ..Oh! Before I forget.. *Clears throat before holding up finger* Today, I brought with me the very first Author Note!

Author Ari | The first draft of this chapter was actually written a couple years ago! It was..a hot mess to say the least. Y/n completely took over Tanjiro's role in the Hand Demon's fight originally, but I scrapped it because I wanted to give Tanjiro the proper respect he deserved as well as stay true to the canon!

Tanjiro Kamado | I wish we could've seen Y/n fight a little this chapter. Sumiko too. Kinda feels like they were pushed aside because of me..

Author Ari | Don't think like that, Tanjiro! It's not that they were pushed aside, more like you had the most interesting fight between the three of you..and I didn't feel like hopping from persective to perspective just to show what everyone was doing at the time you were fighting..heh.. Uh-! Besides, they'll have plenty of time to shine in the future, trust! (❁'◡'❁)

Nezuko Kamado | *Nods* Mmmph!

Tanjiro Kamado | *Perks up a little* If you say so..

Author Ari | Well, that's all for today! Thank you again for reading this book! I hope you'll continue to do so! Next, chapter five, "My Own Steel"! See ya there, lovelies! <3

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

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cuubism · 7 months ago

Note

Hey, i hope i'm not being super annoying by asking this but do you ever plan on finishing 'In Waking Dreams'?

This fic is probably one of my favorites of you (along with 'some kinda benefits', 'The Apocalypse Is Nigh!', 'my eyes are up here' .... honestly if i go throught all my bookmarks we would be here all day, your writting is just that incredible aksjka) and it has lived in my head for so long, i love how hob's initial reaction to the news of "you have a husband" is simply oh fuck yeah, i love the whole set up of the marriage just happening because dream said yeah sure why not, what could ever come from this? and then slowly actually falling in love with hob, i love the tenderness that which you write them with when they actually reunite and just, i really love the whole fic 😅

So yeah, i hope you find in you that Dante Alighieri spark of fanfiction inspiration to pick it up again it one day, is a really good story ^w^

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

i am, yes! i've been ever so slowly working on it

i often find that after the climax is the hardest part of a story to write, especially if it's a really obvious and delineated climax like 'hob rescues dream' - before that you always have the climax as a north star, if you start getting lost you just remember that you're supposed to be going in that direction, but afterwards it's like... where does it go now? there's a lot to wrap up and you want to try to do it organically, not just like... infodump all the answers to the outstanding questions XD so i'm slowly poking away at that.

this is making me think that i should probably just write the very last scene of the fic (don't know what that is yet) and then i'll have a new north star...

but here's a small bit from the beginning of the chapter

Hob’s home was in a bit of a state, thanks to all the crazed research and rescuing he had been doing. Books and ledgers left open, a mug of tea still cooling on his desk, jumper thrown across the couch instead of put away. He tried to remember, as he led his husband to bed, hand low on his back to guide him, if their home in dreams had ever been in such disarray. Home was a bit of a nebulous concept, in their dreams. They had had many different houses over the years, the details of which were hard to remember upon waking. Really, home was the man beside him, an inexorable force that drew Hob back, across landscapes and time, from cottage to manor to palace. King, he thought, it coming to him again, the way dreams appeared and disappeared as context called them. The ragged, slumped form of the creature beside him, leaning into Hob’s side for support. Hob remembered taking his hand, pressing his lips to those fragile bones. My king, he’d murmured, at his side, in bed, like he was in a fairytale. A king would have a kingdom. A kingdom of dreams? His king of dreams turned to him as they stopped by the bed. Now that the rush of power, of darkness, had bled off him, he looked haggard, swamped in Hob’s coat, which was still all he was wearing. Strange, so strange to be here, in Hob’s so ordinary bedroom. Not the half-remembered palace of a hazy dream-life, but just here, standing by the bed. Hob, and his dream-walker. He had come to him, hadn’t he? Once, or so he’d said. Hob didn’t remember the specific instance of someone ringing his doorbell and not being there, but he could imagine it. God, if he’d been just a moment sooner in opening the door. If his Dream had been just a moment sooner in knocking. “Hob,” said his husband, in his solemn, sleepy voice. Hob had missed that voice. The dreams he had had of him, the ones that were memories, were never quite the same, never quite right. He said nothing else, like Hob’s name was all he had wanted to say. So Hob said it back—“my Dream”—and the softening of his husband’s face was worth everything.

#when i first started this fic in september 2022 i had the absolute unmitigated hubris to think i could finish it in a month #and now here we are #in waking dreams #my writing #ask #lutheban #youve made me think about the structure of the thing which is good. i think i'll go move some things around and that'll help correct the #flow and get me back on track

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batmanfruitloops · 1 year ago

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So I noticed that with the Riddler bingo for this AU's Riddler specifically the "Arkham" space was left empty. So that leaves me wondering: what does the Bat do with all of his baddies after he apprehends them? Because as stated with Joker's backstory Arkham exists, but it seems it's not going to be used, so then where does Batman deposit all of his captured baddies at?

This is actually pretty important to a lot of plot points, so this is going to be kind of long!

Batman wants justice and dangerous things to stop plaguing Gotham, but Arkham isn't really going to help that. It kind of just makes people worse. Joker having been in there would also make Batman reluctant to send others there, because he'd be so distraught about the idea. He's been there for years. He knows the personal hell that that becomes.

There are many more circumstantial factors that lend to not sending the rogues to Arkham as well;

A big one is that Batman isn't actually able to capture a lot of them. For instance, the Riddler and Scarecrow never really get close to being caught. They're too capable and have such methods of evasion. The closest Bats has come to catching one of those two is when he and the Joker started working together. Before Eddie worked with Jo, he operated remotely from a hideout and broadcasted his crimes and riddles. Bats had already been working on finding this hideout, and he had finally located it right before the Joker joined his force. (That's all I'll say about that instance for now) But others like Ivy, Harley, and Polka Dot Man always slip away and are untraceable.

Also another little extra thing: Riddler is able to find a lot of information on bad Gothamites, especially the elite that Bats otherwise can't find anything to present fact about, so if he lets him get away, he can bring more people to him basically.

(The car they're driving is actually one I'm in the middle of designing, a souped up car Ed made just for heists that he named Elsa, after the bride of Frankenstein's monster - I know it doesn't look like a car, but I swear I tried T_T)

Bats also lets a decent amount of them get away because they aren't big enough threats. An example of this would be Music Meister. Is he a public nuisance? Yes, but is he really causing any problems? No. In this he's kind of just a silly guy who happens to be metahuman that still wants to use his natural gifts. He's pretty much a theater kid with too much power in his hands.

There is also a section of the rogue gallery whose issues are resolved before being sent to Arkham would be necessary. Clayface, Manbat, and Babydoll are some such rogues. Their roles in this au will boil down to maybe a chapter or so, depending. Their situations mostly require careful handing (and in Manbat's case being cured) to go back to living as best they possibly can. They're able to be reasoned with and get help, if that makes sense? I'm not sure that's the correct wording, but you'll see when we get there.

If the rogues have enough money, power, or influence, they themselves could get out of being sent there. This is how Penguin at least avoids ever being sent there, or charged with anything besides a warning, really.

Batman has also had the unfortunate opportunity of meeting Hugo Strange, the head doctor of Arkham Asylum, as Bruce Wayne. He got to witness firsthand just how demented and intelligent that man is and he'd rather not give Strange more victims to his madhouse.

- Sarsee

#batmanfruitloops #anewgothamau #batman #dc #batman villains #batman rogues #gotham rogues #sars babbles #answers #batmanfruitloopslore

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lilc77 · 9 months ago

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Just some random thoughts about married SephTi:

I had a revelation at 3am about married Sephiroth and Tifa (not sure where it came from) reading FanFiction about themselves. Sephiroth comes home to find Tifa engrossed in her phone. She acknowledges him and speaks to him but she is glued to her phone. He wonders how he should feel if he finds out that she's watching porn so he decided to ask trying to be funny.

Sephiroth: Hey, hon. Watching porn?

Tifa (responses without looking up): No, reading it.

Sephiroth: Pardon?

Tifa: I'm reading it.

Sephiroth: Reading it. Huh. Not sure how to respond to that. Is it any good?

Tifa: Totally. Especially how Genesis have you going speechless. Oh and Angeal eventually joins the fun

Sephiroth: Excuse me?! What kind of trash are you reading?

Sephiroth snatches her phone and reads the smutty yaoi fanfiction. His face scrunches and tosses the phone back to her. Tifa stifles a laugh.

Sephiroth: FanFiction. Should've known. Shouldn't be reading trash like that. Where did you find that?

Tifa: I heard a few talk about it and I was just curious.

Sephiroth: If you were so curious, you should've came straight to the source. I would've indulged my lovely wife. Besides, if you had such time for idleness, you can go to the training room with me. I'll be more than happy to give you a workout, Mrs. Lockhart. And stop hanging out with Zack and Genesis. They're corrupting you.

Tifa: Oh? Is that so, Mr. Lockhart.

Sephiroth approaches Tifa and kisses her before sitting down behind her on the couch.

Sephiroth: Who wrote that garbage anyway?

Tifa: Your devoted Fanclub members and a few underground students/cadets.

Sephiroth (sighs): Figures. Just so you know Mrs. Lockhart, there's a few out there about you too.

Tifa: Noo? What? Where?

Sephiroth grins widely. He takes her phone and types then hands it back to her. She reads and peruses a few FanArts.

Tifa: What? Oh my God? Wait, that's actually a really great picture of me. Hey! My boobs aren't that big?!

Sephiroth laughs.

Sephiroth: What's wrong, my dear? Didn't like what you found? Maybe you shouldn't have opened Pandora's box.

Tifa: How did you know about this?

Sephiroth: Not important. More importantly, if you're going to indulge in trash like that, you might as well read the good ones.

Tifa: What do you mean?

He asks for her phone again. She hands it to him. He types and hands it back to her. She reads a FanFiction about them.

Tifa: What is this?

Sephiroth: Apparently, we have a fan.

Tifa: What do you mean?

Sephiroth: Read their pen name.

It reads "Number1F@n".

Tifa: Do you know who it is?

Sephiroth: I do not. But apparently, they're someone close enough to get an inside scoop.

Tifa: What do you mean?

Sephiroth: Go to Volume 2, Chapter 23, 5th paragraph. The way the Hero proposed to the Heroine sounds very familiar don't you think? Sounds a little too close to home?

Tifa: The only ones who know are Angeal, Genesis, Zack, Barrett, and a select few who I know wouldn't say anything. I did tell Cissnei but she wouldn't dare write about it.

Sephiroth: Hmm. Anyway, you should give it a read. You have some catching up to do. There's already 3 Volumes. I'm currently on the 3rd.

Tifa: 3 Volumes?! How?! What?!

Sephiroth: Mmm-hmm. It's very good and very detailed. It even has our little tiffs in there. Oh and apparently you're cheating on me with Angeal.

Tifa (stifles laughter): What?!

Sephiroth: Yeah. Don't worry, I told him that I would castrate him and set Meteor down on him if he ever thinks about touching you. He said he wouldn't have expected any less. Though there are some scenes I would love to recreate with you, Mrs. Lockhart.

Tifa: Oh?

Sephiroth: Mmm-hmm. Let me know when you get to Chapter 18. You really should get to reading.

Tifa: When did you have time to read this?

Sephiroth: Only once in a blue moon.

Flashbacks to a few instances of Sephiroth reading on the train en route to a mission, in his office where he's thought to be reading mission reports, during Hojo's scientific ramblings, during Lazard's meeting, while hanging out with Genesis and Angeal, on the couch with Tifa asleep on him, etc.

In the meanwhile, on the other side of Shinra HQ:

Tseng types on his laptop. He's currently working on Volume 4 under his pen name "Number1F@n". Satisfied with the end of his chapter, he closes his laptop for the night and decides to call it a night.

#ff7 #finalfantasyvii #sephiroth #tifa lockhart #sephti #sephiroth x tifa #sephti reads their own fanfiction #married life #tseng of the turks #tseng #tseng is their number one fan

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calamitaswrath · 5 months ago

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Cal Lucia plays Fire Emblem Path of Radiance: Chapter 14

A couple of story beats in Begnion, and. . . well, I can't really say much on them. Ike standing in for Elincia is nice moment, and my first impression is "Ah, that's how some people delude themselves into thinking that Ike and Elincia could be an implied couple". But really, what stands out more than anything is Oliver being there, cause I have definitely heard about him. Something about his obsession with beauty, him being a slaver, but also being a playable character?

It's a good thing though that I had some time to let the story beats of this chapter so far simmer a bit because I didn't get to play, cause that gave me time to let them Sink In. Begnion strikes me as the type of decadent but powerful nation that is so caught up in its own safety that it doesn't really acknowledge the threat of the antagonists until it is too late. To compare it to something, it brings to mind the High Entia Empire/Alcamoth from Xenoblade 1. Which is to say, I could also see some story beats similar to Xenoblade 1 taking place, like corruption which runs deep in the nation, or an unexpected attack from the main antagonists catching Begnion off-guard and forcing them into action. Considering that Oliver is an official here, I can definitely see the former being a thing.

Also, something about that tower in the capital. I vaguely remember hearing that the final boss fight of Radiant Dawn takes place here? I think?

New base conversations!

Marcia being from Begnion is addressed, which is nice. She's honestly pretty minor of a character, so seeing her search for her brother and all that being acknowledged is. . . I don't wanna say nice again, but it just is.

Stella's background getting explored, which I suppose is to be expected. She literally just joined after all, so there is stuff that needs to be acknowledged. Still not sure if I'm going to use her moving forward. . . the fast exp growth is nice, but I'm already having trouble deciding on who to deploy as is.

Gatrie ogling the woman, expecting Ike to join him. Yeah, I do not think that that is going to happen.

A conversation with a maid, who seems to hint at a lot of stuff. A laguz that doesn't transform back. . . is that gonna be a boss, or a new recruit? Either way, it's funny that Ike doesn't say a single word throughout that entire conversation.

Unlocked the support between Jill and Mist! I heard that getting this one is important, and it's a nice one. . . but also really short.

Well, some bonus exp usage later, let's continue the story.

Five days spent here already? That's the third time already where the game gives me instances that make my writer brain go brrrr. There's a timeframe to fill.

God, I love the sibling interactions between Ike and Mist

Ah, this has all the framing of a filler chapter. Important but slow stuff is happening here, so go somewhere else and have a battle.

We're supposed to stop merchants? That sounds like something that bandits would do. Are we the baddies?

. . .Oh. Those kinds of merchants. Yeah, we're not the baddies.

Ah! Serene's Forest? Now that is a name that you can't get around hearing when you're a Fire Emblem fan. So this is where it originates, eh? And references to a massacre, too. . . juicy little story bitses.

And there's a certain guy named "Makalov" on the enemy side on this map. I have heard of him. What I have not heard of him are good things.

Huh, a named character in the bottom left house. . . already forgot her name, but judging by the fact that she is named at all, I wanna say that she turns up later.

Makalov talks about his sister. . . ohhhhh, Marcia is his sister! I thought I'd need to talk to him with Ike. Well, that frees up my strategy by a lot.

You know, for enemies that are called "untamed ones" in German, these enemy laguz are surprisingly tame. Not even aggressive when I get into their range.

Boss talking about having nobles as his costumers. I guess that's how Oliver gets brought into this.

. . .Ike, how are you still not putting together what these merchants are working with.

*Twirls hair* Hiiiii again Miss Tanith

Uhhh, another animated cutscene! And it's not ruined by voice acting

Oh, is this a meeting between Laguz kings? Interesting. Some actual politics, tensions, and worldbuilding!

Ah, so Nasaela's just ambitious. Still seems a bit greedy to go for such small fry as a random Daein commander who chases after Elincia, though.

I actually remember something about Reyson, I think! Wasn't there a scene later on where he punches somebody, but because bird Laguz have hollow bones like actual birds, he breaks his own arm doing so, but he doesn't regret it anyway because it felt good?

And a mention of "Lehran's Medallion". . . gee, I wonder where that could be. Good thing that that part being obvious doesn't actually answer why Mist has it, and what its signifance is.

Well, that was a lot more story-heavy content for a chapter that I was initially dismissive of. Colour me satisfied!

#shut up cal you fool #shut up lucia you fool #cal lucia plays fire emblem path of radiance #fire emblem path of radiance #path of radiance #long post

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valiant-portabella-pirkko · 1 year ago

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ok so I actually completed SotO's new story chapters on day 1, but I've taken a little while to put my thoughts together on it. some of it's good, some not, but I did my best to be fair and direct on it.

so anyway here we go, major spoilers under the cut!

The Good

I like the map, I like the writing direction, I like the lore. I liked most of what we got, honestly. dungeon fixes, customizable character screen backgrounds, bugfixing the new 'green circles' mechanic, and adding a mount ley-line toggle are also all huge things that people have been wanting, and I'm very very glad they listened.

Peitha is shaping into an absolutely fascinating character too, and it's getting a lot more obvious why she connected to the Wayfinder so quickly... they feel very much cut from the same cloth, two strong leaders fighting to make their worlds better. and yet they're also burdened by the weight of that choice, and the sacrifices that must be made for their vision to be made into reality.

moments like this hit me like a bag of bricks; there's so much going on in the Kryptis homeworld. it's fascinating starting from the perspective of the Ward, seeing them all as just these vicious invaders... to now finding out they have names, ambitions, homes, maybe even families. we're told time and time again that their motivation is fear. the Wanderer, Irja, the little grunts we kill en masse to power the beacons, even Heitor herself.

'There's a version of this world where she joined us.'

like... just thinking about that. man. a version where Heitor hadn't lost hope so completely that by the time we come along, Peitha informs us that she wanted to die-- if only because she knew that at least we'd make it quick. it's horrifying to think about on its own, but the reality that it didn't have to be that way makes it so much worse.

it's... such a clear illustration of why their world has to change. they're fighting and dying to preserve the status quo not because it brings them comfort or privilege, but because they've been living in hell for so long that they don't believe an alternative exists. for as alien as the Kryptis seem to us, we're every bit as alien to them.

it feels like there's a really solid direction here, and I hope that it continues being solid through to the end. I could talk WAY more about my feelings on the story, but I'd better keep going.

I also like the Convergences; they're fun and I hope they survive. having public vs private instanced content seems to cause issues with publics staying populated long-term though, which... concerns me. I STRONGLY prefer publics just because you can bring Jade Bot protocols in, which makes it easier to travel freely and keep boons.

and now that I've dug into all that, uh... let's get to the less fun stuff.

The Bad

there's a lot of things to like about this release, but there's also a lot to... Not. the main 'drop' for Convergences outside of raw essences are Concealed Unstable Kryptis Essence Coffers... lootboxes which can only be opened with an Unstable Kryptis Motivation, which at the moment costs... upwards of 10 Gold per pop if you buy them off the TP. the only other way to get them is grinding tier 2 and 3 rifts, and good luck getting one because they're RARE.

I do not like this direction, for a LOT of reasons. the biggest one should be pretty obvious: it's making a portion of the victory rewards inaccessible to players who can't shell out the gold or the rift farm time to get the keys OUTSIDE the Convergence. the other is that the rewards aren't even worth 11 Gold anyway, so the coffers are dropping rapidly in price while the keys stay high. at this point it's arguably better to just sell the keys on the TP than to ever actually use them. the market on these is gonna get wacky I'm sure.

I don't want to see that become a trend. just.......... no.

the other main gripe I have is that... there's no portal of entry in and out of Inner Nayos. no, really. you can't get in and out at all without porting one way or another. it's right next to the Wizard's Tower but there is no entry point connecting these two maps. I thought I was going insane at first so I turned on the story again while in the Wizard's Tower to see if it'd point me towards a door. nope! it just sticks the story star icon on the Inner Nayos map and calls it a day.

aside from making travel in and out unnecessarily irritating and costly, this also means that you can't easily get alts into the dang map without a TP to friend. otherwise you have to do the story on them, whether you're ready and willing to or not.

I don't like that shift either, and really hope they remedy it when the 'under construction' gate opens in the future. that said, that should have been made available as soon as you finish the story.

and now the final segment, you know where this is going.

The Ugly

it's... short. really, really short. like, no, really. I finished all the story chapters in an hour and a half tops. now at maybe three, four days in I already have enough mastery points to top off the last mastery in the new line. I've map completed the new zone twice. both of the new Vault tasks are done. everything went so so so so fast.

and for reference: this cycle is going to last even longer than the last, based on the Vault reset time period.

additionally, the weaponmaster training underwent a stealth change: the new weapons can no longer be equipped on characters under level 80. this was not listed in the update notes. while that didn't affect me, it does seem kind of cheap to pull the rug on that when a lot of players were using that to level their characters since, well... a lot of core weapons just aren't that great. I can't really blame anyone who would rather use weapons that don't hit like a wet paper towel.

there have also been some... interesting bugs on release, of which the biggest one was unlimited hero's chests per day from the Inner Nayos meta. some people got a month's worth of chests in one day before they turned the chest drops off entirely to fix it.

they're back now, but that was still... something to behold.

I've also heard rumors that the new Legendary Kit from the Vault may be bugged; some players are reporting opening the kit and getting nothing out of it. I can't confirm how frequent that issue is, but... yeah that's a little concerning. I'll hold onto mine for now, just to be safe.

Overall Impression

despite the many sore points mentioned, overall I'm... okay with it. I like what we got, but I wish there was more there to like. from the much smaller Vault selection, to the shorter story, to the single-waypoint but otherwise very cool map that feels like it could have more going on in certain areas... I dunno.

but on the other hand... if my biggest complaint is that I like it enough to want more of it, that's an alright problem to have when we know we're going to get more. I'd be more worried if what we got was a miserable slog and I didn't even want to return to the maps-- and in fact, the opposite is true! I want to return to the map frequently and I want more to do in it-- and mostly I want easier access to it.

my hope is that the slowdown is an indication of resources being put into other backend work, such as the dungeon fixes, the character select screen, and so on. because, realistically, if they can fix up the core more, that would streamline their workflow a LOT and make it easier and quicker to work on things in the future.

I guess in short, my impression is... tentatively optimistic.

that's all I've got on it for now, maybe I'll talk about story more in-depth in the future though because boy I do have a lot of thoughts on that-- which... is part of why I had to redo this post like 6 times. it kept getting way too long and rambly over story. (oops)

#my posts #soto spoilers #gw2 soto #secrets of the obscure spoilers #secrets of the obscure #i did my best to be fair to it in terms of my thoughts and feelings and give an honest but earned opinion on it #hopefully it's at least mostly coherent lol

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sushisocks · 1 year ago

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pLEASE unleash your gatling gun rant on me... I am SO obsessed with things being accurate. I need to know what they got wrong and I love reading people just go off about this kind of stuff 👉👈

OKAY ALRIGHT Just remember you asked for this!!!

I've been thinking about this for SO LONG okay, so, backstory, back in early June I released a chapter for my fic that deals with that Pinkerton attack in Lakay, and part of that mission, you get to fuck around with a Gatling gun, right? It's not the first time we're fucking around with a Gatling gun, BUT, this is the chapter where I decided to sit down and do some preliminary research! I'm Norwegian and not super acquainted with guns in general, so researching them for my writing has been like a fun little thing I do sometimes.

Anyway, I realized that the guns they keep calling Gatlings are actually Maxim machine guns?? Idk if it’s slang or gang members genuinely not knowing better/the difference or what, because the characters keep calling them Gatlings, but even the game text has them labeled as Maxims! And if you're wondering what the difference is, it's actually a pretty big one!!

Gatlings have a CRANK, you know the old timey ones with wheels, where they have to crank a lever to keep firing bullets? THOSE are the Gatlings, they had the bullet chamber on top of the gun, and revolutionized warfare with how rapid-fire they shot -- the 1862 iteration can do 24 rounds in 5 seconds, according to a youtube video I found! Meaning just under 300 rounds a minute, if they'd been sustainable. BUT that was BEFORE 1882, when they improved the gun so it could sustain fire while being reloaded, upping round per minute to 400!!! Though I assume that implies a second person TO reload the gun, like I'm sure you've seen in movies that're supposed to be from around this era. Idk I'm not actually a gun expert but that's what makes sense to me.

Anyway, the Maxim gun does NOT have a hand-lever function, it actually has a trigger that you push in, a toggle lock, and steer around with handles. It also has a belt-feeding system from the side, and could fire up to 600 rounds per minute! (It COULD be operated by a lone person, though in war it was more common to have a team dealing with these too.)

So, mechanically, the Maxim gun is EXACTLY the make of which the machine guns you deal with in RDR2 are! You don't really have to deal with a crank, there are no wheels, and while they've removed the reloading issue from these guns entirely in the missions you have access to them, it still CLEARLY follows the Maxim-make in terms of where the ammo is being fed into it's side -- it has a box attached to it's side where you can SEE the belt being pulled from it and into the gun and the used casing being spit out at the other side (I played the Lakay mission several times writing that chapter, I LOOKED).

Let me tell you when I was doing this research and writing that chapter, I was SO ticked off about this mixup!! I was like "What do you do with that? What do I do about that, at this point? Rewrite the chapters/scenes prior where these guns have made an appearance? Just say fuck it?" Spoiler, I ended up saying fuck it and adhering to the Gatling gun name even though it IS CLEARLY NOT!!!!!

It’s such a minor thing that’s wrong too but I need you to understand that I’ve been thinking about this for months now. I cannot let it go. It haunts me. I am Captain Ahab aboard his ship, going mad in my search for the white whale, which in this instance is an understanding of what the fuck happened with the Gatling/Maxim gun mixup in RDR2.

#asks #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #teki talks #red dead redemption #long post #MY PROPENSITY TO RANT KNOWS NO BOUNDS #(thank you for asking though im not overblowing it when i say ive been thinking abt this for so fucking long)#rdr thoughts #rdr asks #meta asks

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gingerlee-holds · 1 year ago

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Chapter Two: Rest Assured

Here's the second chapter of my ongoing fic titled 'Wake Up, Keidima!', a MHA alternate universe where an OC of mine ends up in Class 1-A. If you'll allow me to winge a bit - in the dub (which I watch), the names of all the students have been flipped. You see, Japanese naming conventions go like (Family Name) (Given Name), whereas in the West, it's the opposite. In the dub of MHA, they flipped the names to make it make sense for a Western Audience™ (Iida Tenya became Tenya Iida, for instance). This is very enfuriating, because I've named my OC Eivi Keidima (Family name Given name), while all the other characters are (Given name, Family name) as in the show. This really bugs me but whatever. Just keep that in mind going forward, alright? Keidima's name is the Japanese version (it's too late to change it now) and everyone else has the English version. Okay? Okay, now onto the fic:

Word Count: 6239

"You... did what?" the old man grumbled, adjusting his hearing aid.

Jodonaki cleared his throat and spoke up for his sister. "She got into UA, Grandpa!"

"Oh, UA! I'm so proud of you, sweetie! Mazel Tov!" Grandpa Eivi Gadazi furrowed his brow and stared into the middle distance. "What's UA again?"

The twins sighed, smiling. "All Might's alma mater," Keidima said. After getting the letter, the siblings ran to tell their only legal guardian as fast as possible.

"Oh, All Might! That newbie-" Grandpa Gadazi scowled and spat, "I used to be a pro hero, y'know! They don't make heroes like they used to! Why, in my day, I'd be able to defeat All Might in combat with my pinkie finger!"

By that point, the twins were giggling behind their hands. "I-Ihi'm sure you could, Grandpa!" Jodonaki managed to say.

Grandpa Gadazi was a short man and ancient by all accounts. His bald head, once full of curly orange hair, was covered in liver spots, and his whole face sagged with wrinkles. Despite this, he was quick with a witty retort and had an endearing proclivity to wax nostalgic about the 'Good Ole Days' where he was one of the top ten Pro Heroes (the number would change every time he told the story, however). Nevertheless, the money he made as a hero kept the lights on. He wore a white button-up shirt and a pair of brown pants secured way too high on his torso with a black belt. His shoes had been custom-made for one to be higher off the ground than the other because he had gotten into a fight with a villain a few decades prior, necessitating an emergency hip surgery, making one leg permanently longer. He couldn't possibly care for himself, needing his grandson to ensure he was adequately fed and dressed.

As it turns out, Jodonaki never bothered applying to a high school. He had said it was because he already knew how to use his quirk and knew everything he needed to know about the world, but Keidima understood that he needed to stay home to take care of Grandpa Gadazi's failing health. She also understood, using that premonition all twins develop toward each other, that he was deeply disappointed with his lot in life, but he hid it from his sister.

"Y'know, your grandmother had an incredible quirk," the old man leaned back in his rocking chair, smiling into the middle distance. The twins looked at each other, and Jodonaki smiled as he got up.

"I'm gonna make him some soup," he whispered as he left the room.

"She always beat me in a fight, the old bobcat! And believe you me, my pride was on the line, so I wasn't going easy on her!" Grandpa Gadazi's eyes came back into focus. "I always knew you'd follow in her footsteps. She had chutzpah. Have I ever told you how much you look like her?"

"Only all the time, Grandpa."

"Hm, yes, I must have told you before. Sorry, Keidi-cat, my memory isn't as it used to be."

"I know, Grandpa," she said with a smirk.

Gadazi huffed and leaned forward, looking Keidima dead in the eyes. "Being a hero is serious business, young lady. Your grandmother died saving my life, leaving me to raise your father alone. He was a hero, too, as was your mother. They never even survived long enough to go on their honeymoon!"

Keidima winced and looked down at the ground, and Grandpa Gadazi leaned back in his chair again.

"I'm not telling you all this to scare you, Keidi-cat. I need you to understand what's at stake when you go out there to fight villainy. You not only endanger yourself but also your friends and your loved ones. Whole future generations will be affected by the choices you make today." He looked over at the rocking chair next to his, which was always empty, and with a shaking hand, gently rubbed its armrest. "Don't forget who you're fighting for, alright, young lady?"

Keidima looked up into his face and saw the old man tearing up. She extended a hand to his knee and nodded with determination. "I won't, Grandpa. I promise."

Jodonaki returned with a bowl of ramen and a pair of Gadazi's favorite chopsticks. "Sorry, it seems like someone-" he glared at Keidima playfully, "has eaten all the soup! So I just made you some ramen, Grandpa."

"Oh, splendid! Spectacular day!" The old man's countenance instantly lit up as he gratefully took the bowl and chopsticks, and Jodonaki retook his spot on the carpet next to his sister. "So, Keidima! What kind of hero do you want to be?"

"What do you mean?"

Grandpa Gadazi was shoveling noodles into his gumless mouth as if he hadn't eaten a meal since '75. "I mean," more loud slurping, "do you wanna be a hero that goes in guns blazing? Do you wanna be like your old man here?" He thumped his chest proudly before choking on a noodle. Jodonaki jumped up and began hitting his back as Keidima looked down at the carpet, thinking about her answer.

"Wehell? Don't keep me waiting, Keidi-cat. I'm on the edge of my seat here!" Grandpa Gadazi coughed up the noodle but wasted no time in continuing to eat. Instead of sitting down again, Jodonaki decided it'd be better to stay standing in case anything else happened, and he looked down at his sister curiously.

"I just want to be a hero that people feel safe around. I want to be strong and fearless, but more than anything, I want to be a presence that people are comforted by. I want to be like a warm blanket, protecting people from the biting cold of a hostile world and bringing peace to the hearts of those I defend. Villains have gotten more insidious as time goes on, which leads to heroes needing to resort to more drastic measures to maintain justice in our society. The world is harsh and scary, and I want to comfort those who trust me." Keidima looked up and smiled at her two listeners. "Like you!"

Jodonaki smiled as Grandpa Gadazi clapped enthusiastically. "Bravo, Keidi-cat! What a speech!" He leaned forward with a chuckle. "Just be sure not to use that quirk of yours to get out of family gatherings, eh?"

The trio giggled, and the old man handed his empty bowl to his grandson. "Delicious, as usual!" Gadazi exclaimed, and Jodonaki patted his grandfather on the head as he left the room again to do the dishes. His expression quickly changed as he began getting up from his chair, fishing for his cane on the floor, which Keidima handed him. Grandpa Gadazi motioned for her to follow him, and he walked over to his bureau, pulling out a drawer and opening a secret compartment within. He drew a small wooden box out of this compartment and blew the dust off it.

"Here, sit down, Grandpa." Keidima patted the bed, and Grandpa Gadazi grunted in agreement. They sat together, and the young girl looked eagerly at the box as her grandfather slowly opened it, revealing a small, steel wristband. He smiled wide and tried to pick it up but yelped and pulled his hand back suddenly upon touching it. "Woah, are you okay, Grandpa?"

"Yes, yes, Keidi-cat, I'm alright. This wristband belonged to your grandmother. She had a fire-based quirk, you know. Here, feel."

Keidima laid her hand on the metal, gasping and shuddering. "I-it's warm!"

"For you? That's interesting. It's always been scalding whenever I hold it. Feels like I'm touching a steam iron. But you say it's warm..." Grandpa Gadazi hummed in thought and finally handed her the box. "Here, put it on."

The young girl picked up the band and clipped it around her right wrist. The metal was warm, but it reminded her of sitting next to a roaring fireplace, soothing and cozy.

"How does it feel?"

"Comforting."

"Then..." Grandpa Gadazi smiled and stroked a lock of bright red hair out of Keidima's face, "I believe you were meant to have it. You carry her with you now." He looked deep into his granddaughter's face. "You look... so much like her, you know."

Keidima smiled wide and held the bracelet, feeling its warmth. "Thank you, Grandpa. I'll make her proud."

"I believe you already have, young lady." Suddenly, the old man winced and put a hand over his abdomen. "I just... hope I'll still be here to see you become a top hero, just like your grandmother."

"And you?"

"Yeah, yeah, me as well. But I know you'll be so much better than me. I see it in your eyes. It's the same fire that your grandmother had."

"Thank you, Grandpa. I know I won't fail you."

"Oh, so do I!" Grandpa Gadazi laid back on the bed, making all sorts of grunting noises as he arranged himself. He didn't need Keidima's quirk to instantly fall asleep, snoring loudly.

Keidima patted his head as she stood. Looking down at her wrist, the bright, shiny steel made her smile. "I won't let you down. None of you."

"Costumes!"

Keidima let out a yelp, jarring her from her daydreaming. She refused to admit she had almost fallen asleep at the kitchen table. "W-whahat about costumes?" she asked.

Jodonaki gave her a funny look. "Uh, you need one, obviously! A hero costume! See, I went to the Town Hall and got you some paperwork for it."

"A hero costume? I hadn't thought about it..."

She scratched her head. "Honestly, I wasn't planning on having a hero costume."

"What! Nonsense! You need a costume, Bedhead!"

"Fine, fine, if it'll make you happy." Keidima pulled the small stack of papers towards her side of the table and began to fill out her basic information. "How tall am I now?"

Jodonaki studied her a bit. "Few inches taller than me, so... 5'10"? Ballpark?"

"Sure, we'll go with that, Jodo," she yawned.

Her brother was practically bouncing in his seat. "I can't believe it! It's really happening. You're becoming a hero, and you're getting a costume!"

"You're right. It is certainly hard to believe..." She chuckled at Jodonaki's enthusiasm. "But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't at least a little excited."

Finally, they turned the page and got to the design section.

She hummed in thought as she nibbled the end of her pencil. "Let's see... Are there any special concerns we need to consider for this?"

"Well, to activate your quirk, you just have to focus on something really hard, right?"

"Yeah, but visual and tactile contact help a bunch."

"How about a mask that looks like a sleep mask? I think it'd match the aesthetic."

"Then I'd need holes cut into them, maybe glass put in. Not a bad idea." Keidima began writing down their ideas, sketching the mask. "Okay, what else?"

"Gloves, maybe?"

"They'd have to be fingerless, but yes, good idea." They looked at everything they had so far. Then, Keidima began writing something down.

Jodonaki looked up at his sister. "Wait, you're not planning on going into battle in pajamas, are you?"

"It fits the theme! They'll be green, soft, and fuzzy, with little pockets for hiding snacks. Maybe we'll add a fuzzy pink sleeping cap. Yehes!" Keidima wrote faster and faster, giggling a little as it came together. "Ahahand! Ahahand dohohon't fohohorget-!! Dohon't forget the tactical combat bunny slippers!!" Keidima squealed with delight as she laughed at the situation, almost falling off her chair.

"No, don't write that down!"

"I'm writing it down!" She laughed all the harder as she wrote down the idea.

"You're gonna look ridiculous!"

"Maybe that's my strategy, hmmmmm? I wanna throw them off their rhythm!"

"Bedhead!" Jodo exclaimed before falling into another coughing fit. He yanked out his inhaler and breathed deeply.

"Fine, no bunny slippers - I'll write down a pair of combat sneakers. I don't want anything flashy because that's just not what my quirk is like."

"Okay, but I need to insist on at least some level of protection. Some armor, at least some padding."

"Good idea, but we'll keep it minimal." She underlined that word twice on the form. "I want to focus on mobility and dodging, dragging out the fight as much as possible. The longer I make a fight go on, the more likely my quirk will win out. Knee pads, elbow pads, shin guards, and padding in the gloves but all concealed under the outer pajamas. If some mean bastard comes running at me, I want to be able to dodge without hurting myself."

"Also, remember to put your hair up in a ponytail during fights so it doesn't obstruct your vision," Jodonaki said, pointing at the drawn mask. "But what is your signature piece?" he asked.

"My what?"

"Y'know, the thing that every hero has that's unique. It brings the costume together."

Keidima leaned back in her chair. "I have no idea. Maybe a stuffed animal?"

"No, you can't make that a viable tool in combat."

"Not with that attitude."

Jodonaki suppressed the giggle that wanted to come out and said, "What about a capturing weapon? Like Eraserhead uses?"

"Who's that?"

"Never mind, just focus on this. What if you used a blanket like a grappling hook?"

Keidima looked at her brother, thinking it over. "Is there a material that'd be that strong? And I'd have to learn how to use it... But... it'd be better to learn how to use it and have it with me during a fight. I don't exactly have a very combat-oriented quirk. Yeah... yeah, good idea." She drew the blanket, sketching a bright pink crescent moon in the middle. "What do you think?" she asked, handing the form to Jodonaki.

He stared at it before nodding his head. "I think it looks good. Besides, the form says you can alter your costume later." Jodonaki stood, picking up the form and his handbag, gesturing for Keidima to come up. "Let's drop off these forms, then we can get some last-minute back-to-school shopping done!"

Keidima smiled, nodding as she got up. "I also need a refill on my prescription. No way in hell am I going into my first week of UA without them."

The last days of March flew by like a fleeting dream. The beginning of April came quickly, and with it, her first day of school at UA High.

Keidima was ready to go, but Jodonaki insisted on doing his usual series of 'pre-flight checks.'

"Did you take your meds?"

"Yes."

"Did you put on clean socks?"

"Of course I did."

"Did you pack your backpack?"

"No."

"Bedhead."

"Yeah, I packed it. Last night, remember?"

Jodonaki sighed with a smirk as he looked at her hair. "Maybe we should have it be just a little neater."

"Jodo, my boy, you're gonna make the hero-in-training late!" Grandpa Gadazi called from the couch, making her brother grumble.

"I'm just... worried about you, Keidima." He looked at her earnestly, smiling a little. "But, all the same, I need you to know how proud of you I am." His eyes welled up with tears, and Keidima hugged him tightly.

"Save it for when I become a Pro Hero, alright, Jodo?"

He sniffled softly and grinned. "Will do. Now go learn how to save the world!"

"I will!" With that, Keidima turned and ran to UA as fast as she could.

She had found her locker rather quickly and looked down at her information card, then over at her map, trying not to bump into any students. "Class 1-A should be right around... here!"

She looked up right as she bumped into another student. "Sorry, I- Mina? We've gotta stop meeting like this, bestie!"

Mina turned and gasped, hugging Keidima tightly as she pulled her friend into the classroom. "You got in! I'm so friggin proud of you!"

"Same goes for you! I'm so glad I won't be starting with no friends. I have you!"

"And me, I'd hope." From behind Ashido stepped a certain smirking red-haired boy.

"Eijiro!!! I was hoping I'd see you!" Keidima practically jumped at Eijiro Kirishima, hugging him like a koala, which made him yelp as he gently set her down.

"Please go to your seats! The teacher is bound to appear at any moment!" a loud and stiff voice came from behind them. Turning, Keidima saw a tall, thin boy with dark blue hair and square glasses.

She chuckled and nodded, making a little bow. "Yes sir, mister sir!"

"It's Tenya Iida to you!"

She giggled softly as she went to seat #19 in the back of class, much to her delight. "Maybe I could catch some Z's back here without the teacher noticing." Little did she know that she was followed the whole way to her desk by the uptight chatterbox.

"And you don't have your hair brushed! Don't you know what kind of school we're attending? Your tie is crooked! How will this class succeed if we can't properly tie a tie? Look at your posture! You're slouching! And you, will you get your feet off the desk?" Tenya turned and walked over to an ash-blonde boy with his legs crossed over the table.

"Oh, thank goodness he left me alone. That's the same boy I saw from the entrance exam, with all the explosions. At least he's taking up that guy's attention."

Keidima must have looked somewhat shell-shocked after the confrontation and looked over at a tall girl beside her, who had a concerned expression. "Are you alright?" the girl asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Nothing I haven't heard before," Keidima giggled nervously, rubbing the back of her neck.

The girl extended a hand. "Momo Yaoyorozu."

"Eivi Keidima." She shook the hand gladly and looked up to the door to see the green-haired boy talking with the gravity girl.

"Have you seen the teacher for this class?" Keidima asked.

Momo replied softly, "No, I haven't. Have you?"

"No, I..." Her focus was drawn to a man suddenly appearing in a big, yellow sleeping bag at the doorway.

"Hello, I'm Shota Aizawa. Your teacher."

"You're the man I spoke to on the street the other day when we did the entrance exam!" Keidima couldn't stop herself from blurting out, shooting to her feet. She heard a snicker from her right and saw the blonde-haired boy from before (Denki Kaminari, she soon learned) mouth the words, "he certainly looks like he's been on the street," to Eijiro, eliciting a muffled giggle.

Mr. Aizawa's eyes focused on hers. "Yes, we interacted briefly. Don't speak out of turn, Miss Eivi."

With a squeak, Keidima sat back down at her desk, pursing her lips, and got another empathetic look from Momo. The sleepy girl held onto her bracelet, comforting herself with its warmth.

"Right, let's get to it. Put these on and head outside." Mr. Aizawa held out gym uniforms for them.

"My size is wrong, again." Keidima huffed as she pulled down on her uniform. "This is ridiculous."

Momo and Mina giggled behind their hands as they walked to the grounds together. As the students walked, Keidima made it a goal to know the names of as many others as possible so that she'd be better able to fit in.

Arriving on the field, the students gathered in a crowd before Mr. Aizawa. "Today, you will be undergoing a quirk assessment test."

"What? A quirk assessment test?" the students asked in disbelief.

Uraraka spoke up, saying, "But orientation! We're gonna miss it!" Keidima mumbled in agreement.

"If you really wanna make the big leagues, you can't waste time on pointless ceremonies." Aizawa looked at them all like children, almost scornfully. Keidima gasped softly. She had been a little excited about orientation. "Here at UA, we're not tethered to traditions. That means I get to run my class however I see fit." Keidima gulped. "You've been taking standardized tests most of your lives. But you never got to use your Quirks in physical exams before. The country's still trying to pretend we're all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel. It's not rational. One day, the Ministry of Education will learn."

Keidima looked down. "What a hard-ass... and he seemed so friendly before."

"Bakugo," Mr. Aizawa began again, looking at the ash-blonde boy. "You managed to get the most points on the entrance exam. What was your farthest distance throw with a softball in Junior High?"

Katsuki thought momentarily, then said, "Sixty-four meters, I think."

"Not a bad throw at all. I think I could throw seventy, but that's only because I played softball in middle school."

Mr. Aizawa motioned him to come forward. "Right. Try doing it with your quirk."

Katsuki stepped forward into a circle drawn on the dirt, taking the softball from Mr. Aizawa's hand.

"Anything goes, just stay in the circle. Go on. You're wasting our time."

"All right, man, you asked for it." Katsuki rubbed his shoulder a bit, and suddenly, a massive explosion rang out as he threw the ball as hard as he could. Keidima let out a yelp and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Aizawa didn't even flinch. "All of you need to know your maximum capabilities. It's the most rational way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero." He held up the tracker in his hand, showing the class what it read: '705.2 meters.'

Keidima gasped and nudged Mina. "That's amazing! This'll be fun, using our quirks like this," she whispered, to which her pink friend nodded enthusiastically. All around her, students were saying something similar.

Mr. Aizawa stared at them all disapprovingly. "So this looks fun, huh? You have three years here to become a hero. You think it's all gonna be games and playtime? Idiots," he hissed. "What did he just call me-?" Keidima indignantly thought as she stood up straight. "Today, you'll compete in eight physical tests to gauge your potential. Whoever comes in last has none and will be expelled immediately."

"Huh?" Keidima's eyes bulged out of her head in shock. The other students didn't take it well either.

"Like I said, I get to decide how this class runs. Understand? If that's a problem, you can head home right now." Mr. Aizawa looked around at each student, silently judging their expressions.

"Great... How the hell can I use my quirk to give myself an advantage here? It'd be rude of me to make the others sleepy so that I do better by comparison. I'm just gonna have to rely on my physical abilities... which are lacking."

Ochaco again spoke up. "You can't send one of us home! I mean, we just got here! Even if it wasn't the first day, that isn't fair!" Keidima nodded in agreement.

"Oh, and you think natural disasters are?" Mr. Aizawa asked, making the sleepy hero-in-training tilt her head in confusion. "Or power‐hungry villains? Hm? Or catastrophic accidents that wipe out whole cities? No, the world is full of unfairness. It's a hero's job to try to combat that unfairness. To be a pro, you must push yourself to the brink. For the next three years, UA will throw one terrible hardship after another at you. So, go beyond. Plus Ultra‐style. Show me it's no mistake that you're here."

"I just have to keep up. I'm already pretty spry. I have to land in the middle of the pack. Some of these other kids have quirks that won't help much here, like me. With any luck, I'll end up with some wiggle room."

"Now then. We're just wasting time by talking. Let the games begin."

A fifty-meter dash.

Keidima crouched on the start line and looked over to her left, seeing what appeared to be an empty gym uniform floating in the air. "Hey! Toru Hagakure, right? Or a ghost, maybe?"

The invisible girl giggled. "And you're Keidima, right? What's your quirk again?"

Mr. Aizawa cleared his throat. "Quit wasting time. On your marks..."

"Best of luck, Toru," Keidima prepared to sprint as fast as possible.

"Get set."

"Yeah, you as well! Chat later," Toru said quickly.

A whistle sounded, and both girls flung themselves forward, running as fast as they could, Keidima pulling ahead by a meter. "It's just running two bases. Take first, take second. The ball's in the outfield, but I don't have time to spare. I've run this distance countless times!" With one final push, Keidima sped across the finish line, quickly followed by Toru.

"6.46 seconds! 6.91 seconds!" A cheerful robotic voice said.

Gasping for breath, Keidima skidded to a halt and turned to the invisible girl with a smile. "Not a bad time at all! You're pretty fast!"

"Whew! I wasn't at all ready to be doing this sort of thing today-!" The two girls walked to the side to clear the way for the next pair. "I should be training with you!"

"No, that'd be a terrible idea. I'd just put you to sleep."

"Aw, I'm sure you're not that boring!" She felt Toru give her a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"No, I- never mind," Keidima giggled.

Grip strength.

"What does this have to do with your athletic ability?" Mina asked nobody in particular.

Keidima held onto the machine as tight as possible, but to her dismay, it read '48.4 kg,' making the girl sigh in exasperation. "At some point, spite must become a factor when they make these tests."

Standing long jump.

"You ever done one of these, Keidima?" Denki asked, looking behind him in line. Keidima shook her head. "Ah, it's nothin' scary. Just jump!"

"Thanks. I'll try to remember that." Keidima chuckled as she watched the boy jump as far as possible at the whistle. She stepped forward as Denki got off the sand, and when she heard the whistle, she clenched her teeth and jumped.

"195 centimeters!" the peppy bot announced. She quickly got out of the way and felt a gentle elbow in her ribs, making her squeak. Keidima looked up as Eijiro smiled.

"Not a bad distance."

"Compared with everyone else here, it's not great either."

Repeated side steps.

Mr. Aizawa reset the stopwatch. "Go ahead, Miss Eivi."

Keidima grinned, forcing her mind to think optimistically. "This is easy. It's just back and forth but a lot and really quickly."

She ended up tripping at the end, falling onto her face.

The softball throw.

Keidima walked into the circle and clenched the softball hard in her hand. She leaned back, threw it with all the strength she could muster, and immediately leaned back upon hearing something in her shoulder pop. "Ouch. That sucked."

"Little under seventy meters." Mr. Aizawa sounded almost bored.

"Damn. I gotta get back into shape." Keidima continued rubbing her shoulder as she walked back to the other students. After her, the boy with the green hair stepped up.

"If Midoriya doesn't shape up soon, he's the one going home," Tenya observed.

"Huh? Of course, he is. He's a Quirkless loser." Katsuki spat. Keidima looked over at him with one eyebrow raised. "Not only is he mean, he's also wrong. There's no way a kid could get into the hero course without a quirk."

Tenya spoke up for her. "He has a Quirk. Did you not hear about what he did in the entrance exam?"

Izuku stepped forward, held the ball close, and with a face that registered pure determination, he threw the ball as hard as he could.

"Forty-six meters!" the mechanical voice spoke. The boy stood there, frozen.

"Oh no, poor guy..." Keidima mumbled.

Izuku looked at his hands. "What gives? I was trying to use it just now."

"I erased your Quirk." All eyes turned to Mr. Aizawa, whose hair was standing on end. "The judges for this exam were not rational enough. Someone like you should never be allowed to enroll at this school."

"What?" Keidima was about to step forward, but Momo gently squeezed her shoulder, holding her back. Mr. Aizawa paid her no mind.

"Ah! Those goggles. I know you!" Izuku shouted suddenly. "You can look at someone and cancel out their powers. The Erasure Hero. Eraserhead!"

Keidima looked down at the dirt. "Where have I heard that name before...? It's familiar."

Mr. Aizawa's scarf suddenly shot out, latching around Izuku and pulling him close to his teacher. He began talking with the green-headed boy in a low tone but harshly. Keidima couldn't make out what he was saying but could read Izuku's face well enough to know none was kind.

"I've returned your impractical quirk. Take your final throw. Hurry and get it over with." Mr. Aizawa's hair went down again, and his scarf released Izuku.

"I wonder if our teacher gave him some advice," Tenya said softly.

"I hope so." Keidima looked at Izuku, hoping beyond hope that the poor boy wasn't about to be sent home.

Izuku stepped into the circle and threw the ball again. Instead of the wimpy throw like last time, the boy shouted with all his might, and the ball shot away faster than a bullet, making Keidima squeak and jump into Momo.

"Mr. Aizawa... You see?" Izuku clenched his fist, showing a wholly broken finger. "I'm still standing!"

"705.3 meters!" the robot said.

"His finger appears to be broken now. Just like in the exam. This quirk is very odd." Tenya looked deep in thought.

"Maybe it transfers his body into energy? Like using up all the possible energy in his cells?" Keidima asked.

"No, even if that were the case, there shouldn't be a way he could throw a ball that far," Tenya mumbled, furrowing his brow.

Suddenly, next to them, Katsuki ran towards Izuku, screaming, "Deku, you bastard! Tell me how you did that, or you're dead!"

"He's gonna kill him-!" Keidima extended an arm, activating her quirk and focusing as hard as possible. However, Mr. Aizawa's scarf was faster and wrapped around Katsuki in a flash.

"What? Why the hell is your damn scarf so strong?" Katsuki growled.

"Because it's a capture weapon made of carbon fiber and a special metal alloy. Stand down." Mr. Aizawa glared at the boy. "Jodo said that earlier. That's where I remember the name Eraserhead from!" Keidima thought. "It'd be wise to avoid making me use my quirk so much. It gives me serious dry eye," the teacher said. Finally, he released his scarf, but Katsuki slowly sank to the ground, unconscious.

Mr. Aizawa gasped in shock before quickly looking over at Keidima in realization. Her arm was still extended, stretched stiff, and her eyes hadn't blinked or moved from Katsuki.

"Miss Eivi, please, the situation is handled. You're gonna put him in a coma."

Keidima felt a hand on her shoulder and snapped out of her haze. Turning, she saw Mina's nod and slowly lowered her arm, rubbing her eyes and groaning.

"So that's her quirk. I was wondering..." someone off to her right said softly. Mr. Aizawa walked forward and carried the explosive boy back to the group.

"Ribbet, is he dead-?" someone else murmured.

"H-he'll be fine. He's just taking a power nap-!" Keidima stammered, reassuring her classmates. "We all need to take a little rest sometimes." She giggled softly behind her hand, and some of the other students chuckled along with her.

Katsuki let out a little groan as someone nudged him awake. "What-?"

Mr. Aizawa mumbled something to him, and he nodded, rubbing his head. A twinge of fear went through Keidima as she realized he wouldn't be pleased with her for humiliating him in front of his classmates. Then, the teacher stood up and walked to his observation area again.

"You're wasting my time now. Whoever's next can step up."

Izuku ran back into the crowd, and for some reason, Katsuki seemed focused on him and not Keidima. "I wonder why he doesn't seem angry at me? He doesn't seem like the put-together type."

"That's a pretty powerful quirk," Tenya said, looking impressed.

Keidima looked at him but yawned. "No, not yet, it isn't. Lotta drawbacks."

Mr. Aizawa looked at his tablet. "All right, time to give you your results. I've ranked you all from best to worst. You should probably have a good idea of your standing already. I'll pull up the whole list. It's not worth going over each individual's score."

Mina squeezed Keidima's hand gently as they looked at the screen, simultaneously comforting her nerves and keeping her awake. Using her quirk on Katsuki had drained her a lot, and it was all she could do to stay awake for the final three tests. If it weren't for Mina slapping her calves during the sit-up test, she would have passed out. "Isn't my fault it's a good sleeping position."

"Keidima! Look, you got 11th!" Mina shook her, and Keidima jumped up and down in delight.

"Woo! Average!" She hugged her friend tightly and looked back up at the board. "You got ninth!"

"You definitely would have beaten me if you hadn't used your quirk earlier."

"I couldn't help it. My body acted before my brain did."

"And I bet your body was pretty upset with itself after that long-distance run!"

Keidima groaned. "Oh, goodness, don't even talk to me about that." She had thrown up.

Mina pointed back up at the board. "Look, Izuku's last."

Sure enough, in 20th place was Izuku Midoriya. "Oh no, poor kid... He was so determined to do well." Keidima looked at the boy, who seemed to be looking at the ground, close to tears. She wanted to scoop him up in a hug but decided against it.

"And I was lying, no one's going home. That was a rational deception to ensure you gave it your all in the tests."

The whole class gasped, and if Keidima weren't also shocked into disbelief, she would have laughed at their silly expressions.

"That's it. We're done for the day. Pick up a syllabus in the classroom. Read it over before tomorrow morning." Mr. Aizawa walked to Izuku and handed him a slip, saying something to him in a low tone.

Keidima jogged forward and tapped Mr. Aizawa on the shoulder as he walked off. "Sir?"

"Hm? What is it?"

"I'm sorry for using my quirk earlier. It wasn't polite of me to do. I should have trusted you."

"Don't worry about it. I told Mr. Bakugo that he had pinched a nerve struggling against my capturing weapon and passed out. He doesn't expect that you did anything."

"Oh, thank goodness. I was worried I would get my head blown off," Keidima chuckled nervously.

"No, you'll be fine. Just be sure not to use it if you can afford to. It has a pretty big drawback."

"Yeah, I know. Thank you, sir." Keidima looked at the ground, rubbing her arm.

"Oh, and I saw you had asked for a capturing weapon on your hero form. I could teach you how to use it."

Keidima gasped softly as she looked up. "Yes, that'd be amazing!"

Mr. Aizawa grunted, nodded, and walked off.

The young girl turned, seeing Izuku coming toward her. "H-hey, Keidima, right?"

"Mhm! That's me!" she giggled, making Izuku blush. "Oh, he's gonna be so much fun."

The boy rubbed the back of his neck. "I-I just wanted to thank you for, y'know, saving me earlier!"

"Huh? Oh, I didn't save you. Mr. Aizawa did. I just helped." Keidima smiled softly. "But I'm glad I could help."

Izuku blushed deeper at her smile and nodded.

"By the way, I'm relieved you're not being expelled! I was rooting for you the whole time! I'm a sucker for underdogs," she giggled again, making it a personal competition to see how deep the boy's blush could go.

"T-Thank you! Anyways, I gotta go to the nurse now. Bye!" he said quickly, avoiding her eyes as he walked past.

"Izuku!" she called after him, and he turned momentarily. "You're not getting enough sleep!" He chuckled and turned again, walking off.

Keidima went with the rest of the class back to the classroom to change and collect their syllabus. She sighed as she changed out of her gym uniform, hoping that her hero costume, at least, would be the correct size.

She grabbed a syllabus and stuck it in her bag, then began walking out the door if it weren't for a tap on the shoulder. Tenya pulled her aside and bowed stiffly. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning. You have more than proved your worth and did not deserve to be treated so harshly."

"I- thank you, Tenya." Keidima smiled at the kind gesture and gently lifted him out of his bow. "It means a lot."

"Of course. Hopefully, we can be on a good footing from here on out."

"I hope so, too! I'll see you, Tenya!"

Walking out the main doors and down the steps, Keidima grinned as she approached a familiar duo. Mina and Eijiro turned and waved at her as she approached. "We live in about the same part of town. Why don't we walk home together?"

"I don't see why not!"

"Wait!" She turned and saw Denki running up to them. "Don't forget me!"

"We couldn't forget you, bro! C'mon, let's get home."

The four walked home, proud that they had finished their first day with relatively no problems, although Mina had to keep Keidima awake the whole way home. Still, Keidima was glad to have reconnected with old friends and even made some new ones.

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And there you have it! Chapter 2, done! Lemme know what you think!

Also wowie I wrote so much more for these 1.5 episodes than the first four. Maybe that's because most of the first episodes were focusing on Izuku. No clue. Anyways, there's no way in hell I'll be able to keep this pace up, especially with me going back to school soon, so expect much spottier uploads.

Lemme read Chapter 1! Lemme read Chapter 3! Lemme start at the beginning!

#wake up keidima #kayde wrote something woah #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #bnha #fanfiction #oc story #original character #heroes #quirks #ua high #fanfic #anime #manga

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