#the outline for the last 3 chapters is almost on track

[86espresso]

dancing is a dangerous game ⋆.˚ ★—TWO

au masterlist

sum: art museum date outing!

warnings: throwing up, fluff mostly, relationship building, pizza, little filler chapter before we get into the crazy stuff <3

notes: this is super duper rushed !! and not proofread !! exam week lasts three weeks apparently and I wanted to post something before i go insane so here 👐

wc: 1.5k

from: jack/drew

do

fuck it sent before i typed the whole thinf

do you like art

?

from: you

yes

yes!!* sorry that was dry

[•••]

Jack couldn’t stop smiling.

He’d been more confident in himself and the only people who knew were his parents, Nico, and Trevor. Nico was quick to notice his overly cheery attitude since that day and Jack just couldn’t hide anything from him, so he told him.

It’s been a few days since the news threw him off track—in the best way possible.

You were great company.

Putting aside the fact that you were literally carrying his child (which his brain has come to terms with) and despite the fact that your previous interactions were awkward as hell, he’s discovered that you’re very easy to talk to and warm up to. You could engage in conversations about things you weren’t familiar with, your nap schedules aligned with his, and you loved art—as he just learned. He figured you would, considering you were a fashion designer.

Jack parked outside your apartment building (with Trevor in tow; he blatantly informed Jack that he was there just for Winnie) and nudged Trevor to get out of the car.

He took notice of the little color that drained from Trevor’s face and smirked as they took the elevator.

“What’s up, Z? You look sick.”

“Don’t act like you aren’t nervous either,” Trevor says, narrowing his eyes at him pointedly. Jack shrugged; he wasn’t as nervous as before but he still really wanted you to like him.

They kept going back and forth til they reached your apartment door. Jack rang the bell and heard a soft ‘coming!’ before you opened the door.

“Hey guys! Come in.” You pull the door open wider to let both boys in. “I’m almost ready, Jack,” you say sheepishly. You felt kind of silly in front of him in a half-dressed state.

“Take your time.” He smiled as you shut the door behind him, laughing at Trevor already wandering to search for Winnie.

“She’s on the balcony.”

Trevor tipped his baseball cap in thanks before making his way to the balcony while you went off to your room. Jack didn’t know if to follow you to your room would be weird, so he just stood in the entrance that lead to the kitchen, leaning against the wall while he scrolled on his phone.

“I’ll have to call you later—ow.”

Jack looked up to see you hopping on one foot, trying to put your second shoe on and trying to hang up on your call at the same time. He loved your fitted sweater and cute jeans—a lot. You looked cozy and extremely huggable.

“You look cute, should we go?” Jack asked as soon as you got yourself situated. You flush at the compliment and nod, grabbing your purse.

“We’re leaving!” You call out to Winnie and she yells out an ‘Enjoy!’ before Jack puts an arm around you and leads the two of you out the door.

[•••]

“It’s so beautiful.”

You trace the outline of the woman’s face a few feet away from the painting absentmindedly.

“He had her down to the last detail.” You smile. “This was made with so much love.”

Jack smiled at you when you turned around to look at him, the twinkle in your eye making him believe that this was the perfect place to start off with.

“It’s one of my favorites.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“I come here a lot, actually,” Jack answers and laughs a little when you take his arm and pull him to the next exhibit.

“To get away, I suppose,” you say quietly, stopping in front of a sculpture and looking up to meet his eyes. It’s like you knew everything about him.

“Yeah,” he says softly, and held eye contact for a millisecond before both your attentions were pulled away.

A woman was chasing after her giggling daughter before the little girl fell and looked up at her mother, pouting. Her face scrunched up as she started crying, causing her mother to coo and pick her up. She coddled her daughter close to her chest and the little girl was quiet in no time, focusing on the woman’s face and looking at her with wide eyes.

Jack pulled away from the scene to look at you and he could physically see the lump in your throat threatening to spill over. He touches your hand to grab your attention.

“That was adorable,” you say, your voice breaking off at the end and your eyes glazing.

“Don’t cry.” Jack frowned, pulling you closer by the shoulders and wrapping an arm firmly around you. His cheek brushes the top of your head.

“I’m fine, I mean—I’ll be having one of my own.” You pull back, using your pinky to go over your waterline. “I’m going to love them so much,” you say, your hand subconsciously ghosting over the front of your stomach. You meet Jack’s eyes again and he’s watching you intently; the expression on his face isn’t odd, but it looks like there’s so much he wants to say.

“So am I.”

You start moving again, Jack’s arm securely around you while the both of you pointed excitedly at everything you recognized.

It got more fun as you went on because the museum began to empty out and at the end it was just the two of you. Jack had just, stopped to admire the relic in front of him, a famous love letter written by a war soldier to her husband, when you yawned and rested your head on his shoulder. The action brought him a sense of Deja Vu to the night that you met.

“Tired?”

You think you would explode if he did the thing where he smiled down at you ever again.

“Yeah, but more hungry.”

Jack, at once, walked you over to the outdoor pizza place right next to the museum and ordered for both of you.

“Yeah, so, you’re crazy.”

“I literally will pay for myself, I don’t care—”

“Look, pizza’s here!” Jack quickly averted your attention to the gorgeous tray the server brought over. The pizza looked really good and watching you get excited over eating made Jack oddly happy.

It was the moment you bit into the slice when you felt the dreaded bile shoot up your throat. You covered your mouth and hurriedly made your way to the nearest trash can and spilled your stomach’s contents while Jack followed you closely behind.

“What the hell— are you—was it the pizza? Too spicy?” He uses one hand to gather your hair and the other to soothe your back, once again, “I’ll ask them to change it, baby, I’m sorry.”

You reach behind to wave your hand as if to say ‘no, the pizza isn’t the problem’ and Jack, surprisingly, understood.

When you went to the restroom to properly clean up, Jack googled whether it was normal for you to be throwing up during the first few months and, thank god, it was.

You came back out looking like you weren’t surprised at what happened but like you still aren’t quite used to it.

“Well, I’m even more hungry now, so we can leave after we eat,” you pause. “Unless you want to leave?”

“I want whatever you want.”

Yes, he’s been sucking up to you a lot, but after seeing what it’s like for you on the daily, you could tell him to jump and he would ask ‘how high?’

“Guess we’re eating,” you say, sitting down on your chair and tugging Jack’s sleeve because you knew he was just as starving as you. “C’mon Jack, it’s still warm.”

He drags his chair to your left instead of parallel to you so that he could be closer in case you had another emergency. You arched a brow at him but didn’t question further as the both of you dug in and quietly enjoyed the food. You looked up to see a smudge of sauce on Jack’s cheek and grinned, pointing to it.

“You have some—”

“What—here?” He tries to wipe the other side of his face.

“No—Oh god, just give it to me.”

You take the napkin from his hands and concentrate on wiping the sauce from his face, not noting how he had that look on his face again, the one where he watched you intently and wordlessly. He took notice of the way your tongue slightly poked out when you were focusing.

“There,” you smile, satisfied.

“You’d be a great mother.” He smiles back at you, his tone slightly teasing but genuine.

“Bold of you to assume I’m doing the dirty work.”

The image of Jack, you, and your child in the same frame was too domestic for you right now, so you filed it away to think about later.

Jack laughed, brushing away a stray piece of your hair like the action meant absolutely nothing, and locked your gaze for the millionth time that evening.

“How’re you feelin’ now?”

“I’m fine, honestly. I’m getting used to it, plus, to me, it’s all worth it,” you replied, smiling softly, meaning it.

You popped the last piece of the crust in your mouth and eyed the ones Jack left.

“You eating those?”

[infamous-if]

November Update

Happy November and happy holidays! I suck at updates mostly because I never know what to update but yk maybe there are people who appreciate it so I at least like to make it a monthly thing lol

Part II for sure should be coming out this month. I know it's annoying that I keep saying it will and then it doesn't because I feel like there's more I should write but lol it's definitely coming this month. If it doesn't I give you permission to yell at me lol It'll come out to the paid tiers first and then publicly and I can finally move on to rewriting. Chapter 2 is looking to be 130k + words which is about 45k. Not as much as Part I but hefty enough (to me) since there's a lot that happens in that 45k. Decisions...decisions...

Rewriting! Yay! As always, I'm open to suggestions up until I'm done with the 'rewrite' which is less a rewrite and more a polishing. I'm fixing all the errors, I'm improving the prose, adding some scenes I wish I added before, and setting the stage for the rest of the story. There's a lot of background maintenance I have to do and now that the story starts to seriously track the variables starting from Chapter 3, I want to fix everything I have now and never look at it again.

As with every month on Patreon, I'll be doing more POVs, flashbacks and more. I think I'll start November off with a Seven POV I wanted to write and go from there. I wanted to do a spooky one for October but Part 2 took up a lot of my time </3 Maybe I'll still do it.

This is almost exactly what I said in October so it's a non update lmao sorry sorry but I'll have more to say once Part 2 is out :,)

TLDR my plans for Nov:

Release Part II

Start rewriting

Start the chapter outline for Chapter 3

Patreon stuff

Story word count as of writing this:

178k from last update -> 221k (221, 336) words

[rblythe08]

TWD/TOWL - Chapter update and a little extra!

Chapter 3 has been added to my most recent Richonne fic - Tell Me Where Your Love Lies.

When I did my first TWD/TOWL fic I was so proud of staying on my strict schedule of posting every Monday, and I assumed with the way I'd drafted/outlined this one, that I would be able to make magic happen again.

I was wrong 😂. I'm not taking any accountability because TOWL coming out on Netflix made it impossible to do anything other than pretend I was watching it for the first time. I may get back on track, but who knows. I can promise I'll finish though. ALSO, Carl's story WILL be in the next chapter!

I wouldn't say this is a heavy hitting chapter, but it's moving our characters along.

One thing that I realized as I have started writing for other fandoms is that, the more you write for a fandom the more you realize what you love to write about and I'm already feeling that way with this one. These are some of the things that I feel like will become a standard.

Carl and Michonne will always be the foundation. I watched TOWL before I watched TWD and even by seeing it in that order, I'll always feel like everything starts with Carl and Michonne.

Lori will probably never be alive. I almost feel bad becasue this time I just knew she wouldn't be with us. I just don't think I'd enjoy writing their dynamic and having the kids in the middle.

Negan doesn't exist in any of my AU's. I will not be expanding on this.

Michonne will be so loved. I don't think it would bring me any joy to write her struggling. I'm not even sure I could get my back into any heavy-hitting angst. I love writing about her and Rick falling in love, but more than that, the people that she has around her supporting her.

I haven't forgotten RJ! He won't be in this one, and he wasn't in the last one, but I hope to include him in a future fic, he is a very important part of the Grimes family and I don't want anyone to think I don't think that!

[celeluwhenfics]

hihi I don’t know if you’ve ever talked about this before and I missed it but here are a few things for you to rant more on pHORSEsuasion as there cannot be too much of it for us to delight.

How was the story and character of Rowena born? Like, if you could remember and retell, the moment you first realised to yourself that you would be writing her in the fashion of Austen? Was it a very long journey that slowly took shape, or an idea that hit you square on the head?

Is there a set time and location you have to write the fic out? Anything from real life that inspires you and you take inspiration from? I think I remember you loving horses (in a club?) and that sparked the love for Rohan? …or is it an anecdote of one of the many Rohan buddies on tumblr….😭

Is there a playlist, specifically, you’d have for the story?? A pinterest board perhaps? 👀 anything about pHORSEsuasion please

On a scale of 1-5 how much would you say the ideas and thoughts relating to the fic occupy your mind throughout the day?

thank you in advance if you ever get around to answering and talking more about this beautiful fic <333 i also read the short about “the creek game” which is utterly amazing.

don’t you worry overmuch about taking your time to work your best on the chapters! even in these intervals your nice story occupies my mind frequently just to think of Bréda

Hi! Thank you so much for your ask! It makes me happy and giddy that someone is still thinking of pHORSE (and dear Bréda! ❤️) even as chapter 2 is taking a long, long time to come out. I've been hard at work on it. It is coming SOON!

It's exactly as you say: the idea hit me square in the head. I hadn't interacted with LotR in a decade, didn't know AO3 or fandom communities existed. I watched the movies with my partner one weekend, and as I tried to fall asleep that Sunday night, the idea of Éomer as Captain Wentworth sprang all formed in my head. And when that horrible pun found me as well, I knew I was onto something. 😅 The next day I wrote the outline, and in its broad lines it hasn't changed since, it only got more refined and detailed as I reacquainted myself with canon!

I am a horse girl! But I don't ride anymore for various reasons. Not much of the story is related to my real life, although every natural landscape, historical tidbit or little everyday situation can inspire me. (Oh yeah and I almost forgot to mention, but last month I went to Bath to see the original setting of Persuasion for myself...) I mostly write at home on the weekends, but I also have written LOTS of thoughts and ideas on the Notes app on my phone, either on the bus, at work, on runs... I've also been known to stop in my tracks in a grocery aisle or step off my bike to note down an idea or a line of dialogue!

I always write in complete silence (and I don't have pinterest), but in a past life I studied musicology with a speciality in early music, therefore YES, there will be some very specific musical references, which I will share on this blog of course! I've done a post on the two songs mentioned in chapter 1. There won't be any music in chapters 2 and 3, as it's a very bleak time in the story and silence takes a lot of room, so to say. (But I have a Borodred one-shot WIP that I don't know how to wrap up, that is very musical, you might see it one day!)

*nervous laughter* I would say it varies between 2 and 5. It's been months, and every day it's somewhere in my mind. Which is not always convenient, because I have a PhD to do!!! And at some point since my brain wanted to think about it 12 hours a day no matter what, I lost a lot of sleep over it. I had to find a better balance, because sleep is important, and once again, I have a PhD to do, on a subject I'm very passionate about!!! But, yeah, if I could write all day every day and churn out chapter after chapter for my lovely readers, I would!

Thank you SO MUCH for your ask, I'm always super excited to talk about pHORSE! Even if there has been no recent update, the project is very much alive, I'm working tirelessly on it and thinking about it all the time. Don't hesitate if you have more questions! And stay tuned!!! 👀

[circlejourney]

How I plan my writing, and then write it: Part 1 of 2

So, ignore the image for now (but not really). I thought it would be funny to start with this visualisation. This chart is specifically about 2 of my stories: Revolving Door and Of the Dragon of the Stars. Both of these novels are in the scale of 300k words or more, so naturally, the ideation and writing process are a bit of a Mess. But before actually going into detail about this "clusterfuck" genre of novel, let me talk at length about my process for shorter novels first.

A few things make Eagles and Swans (the one about an orphaned rebel and the unrest in her country as a banished goddess awakens) and Offshore (the one about two sailors making their last attempt at the most coveted offshore racing trophy in the world) much tamer than the earlier two. First, they follow the points-of-view of just 1-2 characters. Second, they each take place within the confines of a single country / polity, for the most part. Third, the plot events are conveyed in chronological order.

Each important POV character effectively adds an additional story that's being written in parallel. Juggling multiple characters arcs, ordering nonlinear timelines in a way that conveys info in an effective order, AND developing an expansive world, all balloon the story scope. So, thank goodness for stories that require none of the above.

Overall process

I write in three passes, as signified by the three shades of grey in the chart above:

a brief bullet-point outline of the whole story + character summaries

a detailed outline that fleshes out the first outline into a series of chapter hooks / summaries.

the actual novel, first draft.

editing - improving flow and coherence, fixing "telling not showing" etc.

Each stage takes what was in the previous stage and fleshes it out with more detail and more attention to the eventual audience.

Barebones outline

The first pass, for me, is a "thin" outline of major events and major characters' emotional states. It isn't subdivided into sections yet—what I'm really aiming to do is lay out the shape of the story and the rough order of events. A little sample:

Anqien and Jinai prepare for the race in a month's time, the Niro Helfi Race. We are introduced to it through a conversation between the two and/or maybe training or an event for invitees? This race is the biggest in the business! It's a 2000km route in 3 legs Establish that the two MCs are very (almost scarily) skilled, world-class sailors, and simply seem to be underperforming due to unaddressed issues. Internal conflicts established. General structure: ABAB with sailing/non-sailing content

For E&S I actually did this in calendar format, so that I could track the progress of the plot against their school calendar (as well as ensuring that enough time passed between plot events to make it feel like things were developing in the background).

Chapter outline

In the second pass, the outline above gets fleshed out into a backbone of distinct chapters. Not ALL the chapters, only the chapters that need to happen.

At this point I describe 1-2 important events per chapter (except the really important chapters, which get more detailed outlines). What's more important are the characters' takeaways at the end of each chapter - what they learn, or how their feelings evolve. Example (mild spoilers for Offshore):

A bad training day (idk they fall off the yacht from 5m in the air or damage some gear?), we get to see Jinai's stress and resignation and Anqien trying to be positive but visibly affected. The coach gives them an earful about recovery from mistakes They later discuss this and Jinai admits her biggest flaw is giving up too easily. Slice-of-life kind of scene where they go do something stupid/reckless to unwind, and maybe get in trouble

Idea bank

In parallel, I maintain a bank of loose plot points that I would LIKE to include, except I'm not sure where yet. In Offshore, I called them "filler episodes":

Episode: A bit of background about what they do between training Episode: A joyride in a boat. they hire a motorboat from the local boating club and are a nuisance in the rich people area and then head out maybe way too far into the open sea.

In E&S, I maintained a bank of "Chekhov's Guns" that I might bring back later in the plot to create a sense of setup/payoff.

Ruth’s key: unlocks anything, currently lives with Tante. Hyder’s power: to disguise anyone as anyone else. Tante’s knife skills: he’d win any knife duel. And he’s got lots of knives. Tanio’s inventory of inventions: there’s bound to be some stuff there that she can use. Tanio’s meat grinder: grinds meat. Hollia’s job and possessions: an aviary full of birds of all species, including eagles, swans and chickens.

When I come to a point in the novel where I think "something needs to happen here that ISN'T the next groundbreaking plot development," I can quickly whip out one of these concepts.

And now, the actual writing

So now I've got a backbone and a bank of modular content, I come to the moment I've been waiting for. It's worth noting that sometimes the outlining continues to happen even when I start to write, but I do really like to have a finished outline before I start writing the actual prose.

A lot of things happen during the course of writing that I absolutely did not plan for, simply because it's where the story takes me—what instinct tells me would work in the moment. The writing process always surprises me like that, and it's a constant reflexive loop of checking in with what sort of scene/chapter I think would make a good follow-up to the current one, how far to take a scene before closing it off, etc.

The outline is like a leash that keeps the story from flying off course and also a scaffold for when I don't know what to do next. I can check what plot point I need to build towards and then start steering the plot gently in that direction. Then the editing pass is when I'll revisit with a critical eye and link ideas together in a coherent flow, look for the most impactful stopping point for each chapter and prune it, etc.

And longer novels?

So my process for longer stories like RD and OTDOTS is really...an expanded version of the above. Except that the detailed outline can often have multiple levels of subdivision (by volume/story arc -> by location if there are events happening simultaneously in different places -> by chapter), and the planning tends to be more regimental since there's a greater need for the story to feel tight and economical, to maintain momentum.

But there's another post's worth of rambling in that topic, and that's exactly what I'm gonna do at this juncture: put that in its own post.

[aizawife]

Caught in Your Web

Requested: Getting together with Mirko.

Summary: Everyone knew Redback, barely anyone saw Kenji — except for Mirko, who saw the spider, its web, and its prey.

Word Count: 4622

Prompt Notes: Mirko x Spider-Man OC! Specific to the OC, written with a male reader in mind.

Author Notes: Good Lord, it has been a while! Sorry for taking so long with new content — I’ve had a lot on my plate the past few years with graduating uni (yay!) and moving on to med school. Even through it all, I never forgot about my love for both anime and writing, so here we are! Now, about this request…y’all. Huge shoutout to this requester !! This was not supposed to end up as long as it is (seriously, if you think you know how long this is, you really don't), but after talking to them about their OC and learning the backstory, I fell in love with them and ended up pouring so much into this. This is like a chapter worth of content, but I’m happy and so grateful I got to help deepen this character. I hope you all enjoy it (and share your OCs so I can write for them >.<); I'll be uploading some other stuff I wrote from before I went MIA soon, so look out for it! Welcome back <3

••●───── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ─────●••

“Wow, fourth one this week, huh?”

“Nah, that’s his sixth; keep up, man!”

It was a typical Thursday — well, as typical as it could be for anyone living in the Age of Heroes. As per usual, most people’s workday lunch break had now become a free all-inclusive ticket to a Spartan brawl between some Hero and any of the handful of villains propagated by the emergence of quirks. Today, the competitors in the ring happened to be two people of contrasting appearance: one small and fast, barely visible with both traits combined, while the other was almost comically large and consequently looking to be moving in slow motion with every movement.

Due to the fact that heroes and villains were always engaged in combat, it was ingrained in daily life, so most people just kept going about their usual routines. Regardless, any disturbance was disturbance, and onlookers gathered, a mixture of ordinary people and reporters vying to be the first with the exclusive story. 

The crowd watched as the swift Hero struck the hefty villain with pinpoint strikes as he dashed around at breakneck speed. Excited comments and whispers spread throughout the group of people as they watched the two fight, all curious to see who would win the epic battle between David and Goliath. But although the majority of competitors would have had serious expressions on their faces as they plotted their attacks and tried to read their opponents, the figure who was darting around appeared to be grinning broadly. With his smile, and the numerous taunts that erupted from his mouth, the sizable crowd observing became certain that it was the Vigilante Hero known as Redback.

“He’s really fighting to keep his No. 7 spot on the Hero list, isn’t he? Six villains in one week, that’s crazy.”

At the end of the block, the onlookers stared fixedly at the big brown behemoth as it feverishly swiped at itself. Redback moved so quickly around it that it seemed as though he was floating in the air, and with every dart around the enormous figure, his webbed cape flew around him. He sported a deep blue-tinted custom made suit that alternated between crimson and black. His calling card was a giant red spider insignia on his chest, which both villains and civilians recognized as a sign that justice was about to be served.

"Hasn't your mother ever told you to wipe your feet at the door? Look!" Redback delivered a straight punch to Dirt's face, tripping him backwards over his own two feet. With the Hero’s brutal strike, masses of dirt flew off of his body. "You're tracking dirt all over the place!" 

The audience watched as the brown giant staggered through the street, still trying to recover from the last hit. Now that it was closer, it was more visibly the plain outline of a man covered in crumbling earthy dirt. It grumbled as its big feet slapped the ground, launching specs of dirt into the air with each stride. 

Despite finding enjoyment in his battle just seconds before, panic swept across the audience as he looked to be approaching them. One of the commentators grew nervous and turned to his friend. "Dude…"

His friend instantly smacked his shoulder and raised a finger to his lips. "Shh! Don't make a sound!"

Thus, the two guys, as well as the rest of the crowd, stood there, one man quivering with fear and the other paralyzed with shock, watching as a gigantic brown foot kept stomping down the street. As the dirt monster came closer down the block, their bodies trembled from the sheer weight of his feet colliding with the earth, causing thundering steps to bounce around and ricochet off their bones. All they could do was watch as their fate approached, knowing that civilians were in no position to take on such villains, whether they had Quirks or not.

Suddenly, they heard something whizzing over them. Their eyes tried to track the shadowy figure that moved above them, but it was futile; his four limbs possessed the strength, dexterity, and speed of eight. But as they looked back down the street, they noticed a shimmering pattern. There were dozens of thin, tiny, glittering strings in front of them, and where they met, they resembled raindrops frozen in place, twinkling as though someone had taken each droplet and glued it so that the sun could dance across them. 

Upon completing his web-making and landing out of sight, Redback watched as the dirt creature charged up the street and stumbled right into the crystalline net in front of him, almost breaking through the wall of webbing. However, as expected, the strong webs simply absorbed Dirt's pressing force and pushed it back into him, causing him to become entangled and collapse, all nearby objects within a twenty-foot zone shaking as he crashed to the ground.

“Arghh!” He cried out, grumbling following suit as he struggled to get up. But before he could get off his knee, Redback descended from above and landed on his back.

In a swift motion, Redback lifted Dirt’s right arm in the air. He whiffed the air before saying, “You need a shower, dude — bad.” Then, he pushed the arm towards the left side of his torso while throwing his own body weight in the same direction. From a mix between the motion and Redback’s sheer strength alone, Dirt flipped over entirely, causing his chest to be exposed. Redback pinned him to the ground effortlessly, his knee pressing into Dirt's chest as he still struggled to break free from the webs. "Looks like I've got you right where I want you," Redback taunted with a smirk. 

He swung his head down towards Dirt's chest in an instant, releasing his chelicerae from his jaw. His fangs emerged from the basal section and swung out at their prey. He was aware that the feeling of them piercing his victim's skin would be no more agonizing than that of two tiny needles; but these tiny needles weren't entirely harmless, as they could easily pierce the skin before pumping neurotoxin out of their poison ducts.

As soon as they did, Dirt released a deep groan before attempting to pull Redback off of him, but his attempt was simply that - an attempt. His arm reached up, but soon went limp and fell back down with a thud. Dirt winced as the venom seeped further into his bloodstream, causing his muscles to weaken and his vision to blur before fading to black. 

Redback leaned in close, muttering, "You should've known better than to challenge me."

He leaned back with a triumphant grin, watching as Dirt's body went still. Once he got confirmation that paralysis was taking over his body, he retracted his fangs and quickly pulled his mask back down over his mouth. He jumped down, landing right in front of the large group of spectators, with the majority of them sprinting forward, a combination of congrats and whispers of awe taking over them.

“Redback, you’re so cool!” 

“What a hero.”

“Hey, Redback!” He glanced down at the youngster holding out a blue cap and permanent marker. The scar under his cheek and bruised knuckles stuck out to him. “Can you sign my hat?” Before he knew it, his observations had compelled him to fulfill the request.

“Sure, kid. Don’t lose it.” He grabbed the marker, scribbling his signature with a steady hand. Once he placed the hat back on the kid’s head, a recorder was thrust in his face.

“Redback, can you answer some questions for us?” The reporter's voice cut through the excited chatter of the crowd, drawing all attention to him.

Redback took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the questions that were about to come his way. ‘Interviewers…typical.’ It wasn't that he disliked them, they just all seemed to enjoy picking out bits and pieces from each response and spinning them into a mainly fictitious tale for profit, fame, and undeserved glory.

“We know about your dedication to restoring society’s order for not only civilians, but also Heroes and our judicial system. How do you plan on going about that? Was this villain a part of your efforts? How does he play into your mission?”

Just as he was about to answer, a loud pinging sound rang out. He traced the sounds down to his watch, where he noticed the alert:

[15:00 — XXX BUILDING]

He smiled as he was reminded of the meeting he scheduled – it was perfect timing. With a wave of his hand, he announced, “Sorry, folks, gotta run! Stay safe!”

“Wait!” He turned around to see another interviewer. “What about, um…him?”

He followed the gaze of the crowd to Dirt's limp body, then shrugged. Although he wasn't always confident that the police would carry out their duties to the best of their abilities—which was why he decided to administer justice himself—he was certain that their interests would coincide when it came to a minor threat such as Dirt. 

“The authorities are on their way.” At their concerned faces, he added over his shoulder, “Besides, he’s not going anywhere. Paralysis lasts for the next couple hours!” 

With that, he took off, a few strands of webbing ejecting from his hand and latching to the edge of a small building. He leaped up, the webbing propelling him upward and into the air, where he began gliding and swinging with his webs as if they were white vines in a jungle of skyscrapers. The city beneath him appeared to diminish as he soared higher, the wind roaring past his ears. 

His thoughts wandered as he swung between rooftops, hardly staying on one long enough before moving on to the next.

‘Redback…what a stupid name.’

When the name Redback was assigned to him, he didn’t reject it, as he didn’t expect to hear other people calling him it all the time. But, then again, he truthfully hadn’t expected to become the hero he was now known as. In fact, before he became known as the vigilante hero he was, he used to be the one causing the trouble. Petty crimes, but still, he used to wreak havoc more than he prevented it. 

He sat off the side of a building, his web supporting him as he ceased swinging. He was gazing at the sun sinking beyond the horizon, his webbed cape billowing in the breeze.

‘Kenji O’Hara.’

That was the name he was given at birth. Beyond that name held nothing. 

And then there was Redback.

Redback was the name he earned. The brutal man with nothing to lose and nothing holding him back. The man whose origins could be traced to the Underground Masquerade, an illicit fighting ring in a covert car park. The man whose Spider Quirk bestowed upon him such freakishly powerful abilities that most saw an opportunity for exploitation rather than allyship. The man who, in a foolish adolescent moment, branded a large symbol of a spider on his back—a mistake that, when exposed in the middle of a fight, gave rise to the grimly gallant fighter. This man's reputation preceded him wherever he went, striking fear into the hearts of his opponents.

Everyone knew Redback, barely anyone saw Kenji.

He took a few steps upon landing on the XXX Building before resting on the railing. From this vantage point, you could see the beauty of the city and catch a glimpse of the peace that comes from the hustle and bustle of city life. The idea that such tranquility could be found in the midst of such mayhem gave him comfort. Cars slickly skimming the streets, little specks strolling to the train station. There were no people, no heroes, and no villains from up here. It was simply a city, and everybody was one.

“O’Hara.”

Turning around, he saw her hallmark tall bunny ears. Their massive presence overshadowed her, bestowing upon her an air of innocence mixed with authority. Her grin sent the same message—it was kind yet commanding. As if he had never noticed it before, her skin caught his attention next. It was a delicate bronze that, in the sunset, seemed to have the hue of a highly prized and lovingly preserved gold coin. And, of course, this wasn’t his first time seeing her Hero costume, but the white sleeveless leotard that showed off her hauntingly impressive muscles never failed to entice him.

After a few seconds of observation and appreciation, he decided to return the favor of her casual greeting. “Usagiyama.”

“Don’t web your shorts looking,” Mirko joked as she sauntered over to him, her knee-length white hair swaying with each step. “But I am impressed – you’re on time.” She slid in the space next to him, her back against the railing as she faced the opposite direction. Her triceps flexed as she rested her elbows on it. “I thought you’d be late, especially after seeing your work.” At his raised brow, she added, “Dirt monster.”

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “Ohhh, dirt boy. Yeah,” he grinned, “I handled that. And don't worry; I'll always be on time for you.”

She rolled her eyes playfully, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Good to know," she replied, stretching her legs out in front of her as she grew more comfortable. "Just don't let that dirt guy slow you down next time." 

Kenji was acquainted with Mirko from prior Hero events. Being the fifth-ranked Hero, she was there for both award ceremonies and simple accolades; being No. 7 himself, he was also there, his unwavering attention fixed on the most attractive and self-assured lady in the room, perhaps one characteristic enhancing the other.

"Slow me down, eh? You think I can be slowed down?" As he carried on, she lightly exhaled and rolled her eyes. She knew what he was going to say next. "Or is that the fear of losing your rank to me talking?"

She snorted at his competitive spirit, unfazed by his attempt to intimidate and stir her up. "You've been saying you'll take my spot for weeks now; aren't you tired of your wishes not coming true?" At the wave of his hand, she leaned in close to him with a playful glint in her eye. "Actions speak louder than words, darling," she challenged.

"Which makes me curious as to why you have that No. 5 spot to begin with."

As they both hummed off their playful retorts, the conversation died down. Suddenly, it felt as if a chilly wind passed through, and Kenji awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. Despite sharing the same characteristics of a rabbit, a prey animal, Mirko seemed to have the abilities of a predator — she could sense fear. It worried him, asking about it, but if he didn’t, she would sense that there was something he was afraid to ask, and she would find out and press him about it anyway.

He took a long breath, bracing himself for the question that had been plaguing him; already, at the change in behavior, she raised her brow. "Did you, uh…did you get the flowers?"

Besides the wind whistling and the little noises from urban life, there was not a sound to be heard between the two. Mirko's piercing stare seemed to see right through Kenji, making him even more anxious as the question hung in the air, awaiting her response. 

He wasn’t quite sure what he was so nervous about – they had been on a couple of dates already. Kenji, who had lived his entire life fearlessly, had no trouble approaching Mirko at the aforementioned events, chatting her up and praising her on her successes before going in for the kill with a simple date proposal. In all honesty, he didn't expect her to arrive, but when she did, they hit it off just as well as before, and the rest was history. The first date had been cut short by a tiny gang of petty terrorists, but there seemed to be nothing better for Kenji and Mirko to connect over than kicking ass. Following that, dates continued amongst the usual turmoil that came with hero life, and they grew a foundationally sound friendship.

A Hero of Kenji's caliber was not familiar with the feeling of anxiety; however, he felt as though his heart would burst. That was, until she gave him a kind smile. She seemed to enjoy seeing him stress, even if just for a few minutes. "I did."

"Bold move sending a rabbit some flowers"—she turned to face him, a wider grin on her lips—"but that is what I like about you."

Kenji chuckled, relieved that she appreciated his gesture. “So, are you anywhere close to being ready yet?” He didn’t mean to rush her, but he knew she would correct him if she felt a boundary was being pushed. As ironic as it was, the only thing keeping them from taking the next step was the very thing that had brought them together in the first place.

"C'mon, O'Hara," she murmured, transferring her weight from one pawed foot to the next while looking straight ahead. "You know my rule."

“Right, the rule.”

She chuckled at his grimace, but it quickly got silent again as both Heroes fell into deep thought.

When Kenji first proposed that they become an official couple, Mirko froze. It was actually the only time he had ever seen her confidence waiver, and it was the first time she explained the rule.

‘No attachments, no hardcore relationships. Not while I’m a Hero.’

It was a good rule, except for the fact that anyone who knew Mirko knew that she would be a Hero until her body was physically incapable of fighting, and everyone knew that would be when she was dead.

When she first told Kenji about it, he didn't take it too hard. They had only gone out a few times in the past five months, so being the confident man he was, he didn't see much harm in continuing a casual relationship. When he was ready to get serious, he would eventually find someone who shared her beauty, personality, and sense of humor, at which point he would just move on.

That was what he told himself at first, until he ventured out into the dating scene and returned to the one butterfly among flies forever caught in his web. 

The pill he had to swallow at that point was not particularly difficult, but it was one he hadn't previously acknowledged as existing. Nobody shared Mirko's drive. Nobody possessed her energy, her spirit, and most importantly, her passion. She was the only Hero in the world who matched, if not exceeded the gratification he received from reading his opponent, delivering blow after blow, and emerging victorious. 

And, of course, the thing that attracted him most and kept him trapped in her web – no one matched her confidence.

The one recurring thread in most of Kenji’s failed dates was the one perception he had tried to get away from. The explanation given by almost every girl that walked away was that he was just too intimidating. Sometimes it was his appearance; to be fair, being a tall, well-built guy with a deathly aura designed to scare off any assailant didn’t come in handy all the time. Sometimes it was his jokes – most people were offended by them, while others simply couldn't match his sense of humor. But some had offered to divulge further, claiming that they sensed a wall up that they knew he would not allow them over. Whether it was his physical state or his mental one, among all complaints, he always seemed to be too much.

But for a girl who found the word ‘challenge’ simply did not exist in her vocabulary, as she had never encountered one, Kenji O’Hara’s walls were akin to stepping stones that forged a path to a person with deeper experiences and emotions than most normally have. Whether they saw it as beneficial or detrimental, both had grown up fighting and sparking up trouble, and Mirko, given her status, found it difficult to connect with anybody who understood her past and present behaviors. But when she told Kenji of her experiences, he did the one thing most failed to do – he listened. There was no excessive questioning or feedback, and although Mirko generally preferred people speaking their mind with confidence, she respected his undivided attention as his version of a bold statement. Despite his experience matching hers to a tee, having both come from the Underground Masquerade, the fact that the ‘intimidating’ Redback had the capacity for empathy and support was what stuck with her the most.

“I understand, take all the time you need.”

Unfortunately, that was where her problems started.

Behind the aura he had built up to protect himself, Kenji was a caring jokester with a confidence that seemed to inspire even the most insecure people. Even though it was naive to believe, he appeared to be without flaw. So, if she indulged and pursued a long-term relationship with him, she would do all in her power to assure that it was secure, all because of the man underneath that mask. This was the precise reason she was hesitant to start a relationship with him.

Throughout her life, Mirko always had to choose one or the other. Similarly, when she chose to be a Hero, she gave up all else. The battle and its outcome always came first; even if it meant her body, she would sacrifice it for the fight. Yes, that was the duty that came along with the title, but she had always been that way, even as a combative delinquent. So, upon her ultimate transformation into a Hero, she knew she had to establish a self-rule, something that would make sure she remembered the choice she had made for the rest of her life.

‘No attachments, no hardcore relationships. Not while I’m a Hero.’

If there ever happened to be anyone who managed to slink between the trees and brush and make their way to the clearing that was her heart, she knew she would eventually be forced into another choice. So with that rule in place, becoming a Hero was the last life-altering choice she would make.

“But didn’t you say you’d live every day like it was your last?” 

At O'Hara's question, her eyes widened. This wasn’t Kenji’s first time challenging her, but for some reason, this time threw her off. She slowly nodded, “I-I did. I do, but-”

His hand caught hers, fingers weaving with such delicacy that she almost didn’t believe that Redback and Kenji were the same man. The sincerity in his eyes spoke more to her than his words as he asked, “Then why stop now? Live everyday with me like it’s your last too.”

Thinking of such a possibility made her breath catch in her throat. Breaking her own rule and possibly jeopardizing her Hero career by pursuing something as selfish as a relationship sounded like a no-brainer to her. However, in regards to someone as special as Kenji...

She quickly caught herself, shaking off that small fear of diving in, and shook her hand free from his, taking a few steps back. “Woah, don’t tell me you’re getting all soft on me now, O’Hara.” 

Mirko sighed, his only answer to her jest being a stare. He was serious, and when Kenji was serious, he meant it. With her back to him, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes in thought. "I've already made my final choice. You know that I'm done picking between 'this' and 'that'; I can't have it be 'this', 'that', or you."

With this, she was confident that he would back down and accept her decision. She knew Kenji would be disappointed; hell, it disappointed her too, but she knew in any out-firming contest, she would be firm enough to keep him at bay.

But Kenji was fast approaching, dancing through her trees, heading straight for her clearing. 

"Make it 'this' and me, or 'that' and me, because that's all it'll ever be." And all of a sudden, Mirko discovered that he had overcome each obstacle designed to prevent him from breaking through her own barriers and reaching her heart, and was now standing in the center of her clearing. "I'm not going anywhere."

When she opened her eyes, he was standing in front of her. His face was so unbelievably close to hers, his masked nose resting against her own. "I don't care if it takes you eight days, eight years, or eight lifetimes. I will always be here." His unwavering commitment to her rendered her dumbfounded, and before she knew it, she had reached by his side, grabbing his hand with fingers as soft as rabbit paws.

“I just don’t want to mess things up,” she whispered. 

Kenji put his other arm around her waist protectively, softly pressing her against him in a moment of vulnerability he was certain he would never see from her again. Even though she wasn't in a physical altercation, being brazen or aggressive, he still cherished the transparency that came along with her confidence. It was just this—her shameless acceptance to vulnerability and her newfound openness to failure—that drew him in even more.

He moved his covered lips against her ear to whisper, “You’ll never lose your No. 5 spot.”

With those words, he promised, in his own unique way, that he would never be one of her options, and they stood there in silence as they both indulged in the newly discovered sense of belonging.

“Y’know, except for when I surpass you.” 

He was met with a hard push to his chest, sending him back a few steps. “What? Being No. 7 is getting boring,” he laughed.

Through her own smile, Mirko replied, “You’ll have to catch up to me first, O’Hara.”

They embraced again, Kenji clutching his new partner in justice. Gentle fingers grazed the ends of his mask as she reached up to raise it and reveal his lips. They locked eyes and drank in the intensity of the moment before leaning in, their lips—

Both of their heads whipped to the side as the sound of a loud explosion erupted, grey smoke emitting from an intersection a few blocks away.

“Ah, duty calls.” Glancing back down at her, Kenji's smile appeared to be permanently stuck as he realized he had finally caught the girl he had been chasing for months. “So, ‘this’ with me or ‘that’ with me?”

She looked to the side one more time before returning her gaze to Kenji. She loved being in his arms, and wouldn’t have minded letting another Hero take care of things, but Mirko had met her equal in experience and in valor, and she knew there was no one else she would want to fight beside. 

"‘That’ with you.”

"Alright, you're on!" Kenji raced away from her, leaping off the roof. The following second, she noticed him land on a nearby rooftop before flipping in the air to the next.

Mirko did not hesitate to take up the challenge. She immediately hopped over, already utilizing her Rabbit Quirk to narrow the gap and pass him. "See you there, loser!"

Although Kenji knew she’d push herself to leave him in the dust and get there first, he didn’t quite care to do the same. In fact, for once, this was a battle he didn’t mind losing. He looked over to her again, his eyes tracing her every movement as she raced between buildings and streets. 

For some reason, he felt as if he already won.

••●───── 🕸️⋅🕷⋅🕸️ ─────●••

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

I love all your fanfics but as someone who has been reading since chapter 1 of the series I am probably most looking forward to the end of Cabin - i just checked out of curiosity and it's been almost 2 years since chapter 1! How time quickly passed, now i feel sttange with that 💙 So I think that if I were you I would focus on finishing the work I've already started and then start another one but I may be biased because I can't wait to see how it all turns out <3

Yeah it’s been a long time since Cabin first came out! Even longer since Mama’s boy came out. It hits me some time when I’m writing just how long I’ve been doing this and it’s wild seeing how much I’ve created in that time.

I understand just focusing on one thing and getting it done. For me personally that has some pros and cons. I do feel that I write better when I’m focusing on the same story. Switching between writings is always an adjustment. But if I don’t switch then there’s no adjustment.

On the other hand I get board. Last year when I was just focusing on Cabin it got draining. I know how all the endings will wrap up but sometimes getting from point A to point B is hard when you’re lacking inspiration/have writers block. Taking a break from that story while still writing really helps with that. For example I was have writers block with Visited recently. Getting away from it and writing the Quaritch wins au, something I had a lot of inspiration for, helped me stay in writing mode while I took time to think about my fic. And it really helped! I outlined all of Visited while I was writing the Quaritch Wins au and once I finished that au I was brimming with ideas for Visited. Now it’s coming along nicely and I’m excited about it again. Also If I’m being honest when I put Mama’s boy on hiatus to work on Cabin I lost a lot of steam for that fic that I feel I was never able to get back. That wouldn’t have happened if I’d rotated between the two instead of putting one on the back burner for months.

So I feel that I need the switch. I need multiple things to work on so I don’t burn out. Visited is so close to the end that it’ll be pretty simple for me to wrap up without losing steam. I’m thinking about outlining Mama’s boy to get a rough estimate of how many more chapters of that fic there’ll be then I’ll decide if I’ll just finish it off too or keep it in the rotation until I’m closer to the end.

After I wrote my update last night and thought about it I was leaning more towards the later option. Finishing Visited and Mama’s boy then rotating between Cabin, long form answers to my asks, and my next fic Trailer Trash. I’m thinking about Trailer Trash all the time these days and it’s taking a lot of restraint to not start it and focus.

So those are my thoughts. I’m not making promises and I don’t do release dates but I think the Sully P.O.V chapter of Cabin should come out late summer, like August or September if I stay on track so you’ll get more Cabin before you know it! 💙

[dei-lab-assistant]

Nothing Builds a Friendship Like a Crisis (part 4)

Co-written with multifandoms27

Summary: Mokuba has been kidnapped as the two of you performed his monthly inspection of Kaiba Land. Reginald O'Malley, the president of rival gaming company Knightly Rook, is responsible for the kidnapping, and has challenged Kaiba to a tag duel in order to win back Mokuba. To your surprise, Kaiba asked you to be his partner for the duel, since Yugi was out of town. As you head to the rooftop helipad, you hope you're not getting in over your head. Dub canon plus a version of DSOD. Female Reader. Set maybe two years post DSOD. (This chapter does not contain playing the card game...) Fun fact: I always write my Reader character with personality and specific description. Each reader character also has a specific place in the Yu-Gi-Oh world, and is basically an OC with set connections and feelings about the various canon characters and other reader characters. This is reader B, who is immune to the siren song of romance, cheap, eccentric, logical, and hands-on. Word count: 1,647 You can read part 1 here. You can read part 2 here. You can read part 3 here. You stood inside the elevator which had roof access, feeling the floor press against your feet as you and Kaiba shot upwards. The doors slid open to reveal a helipad. Stepping out onto the roof, you squinted in the blinding summer sunlight as heat radiated up from underfoot and down from above. After ditching your hat, abandoning your sunglasses, and replacing your t-shirt with a fitted black shirt and a short white vest, you had run after Kaiba, barely catching the elevator in time. Now, staring at your shadow, you smiled at your silhouette; it was angular, with your capris falling to your midcalf, and the vest cutting off halfway down your torso, with a high collar and flaring out shoulders. It was a good image, a strong outline, and it sort of reminded you of… Team Rocket. You groaned. 

Kaiba strode past you towards the helicopter, his hair ruffling in the wind created by the rotors. He moved without hesitation. This was your last chance to back out, but your mind discarded the suggestion. When you jumped into a project, you didn’t look back. This was no different. As the artificial wind and engine noise increased, you followed Kaiba inside the helicopter, feeling the sudden lack of blustering air as you pulled the door shut behind you. It was surprisingly quiet inside.   

You almost planted your face against the window during takeoff. For a few minutes, the excitement of being in a helicopter drowned out everything else. Settling down on the bench opposite Kaiba, you tried to focus on your deck and prepare for the upcoming duel. “You look nervous.” Kaiba commented. “I am nervous. We’re about to duel for your brother. What if I’m not up to the task? What if we lose?” You regretted sharing your worries as soon as you said them.

“I don’t lose.”

“Oh, we both know that’s not true.”

Kaiba scowled at you. “I don’t lose to two-bit schemers like O’Malley.”

Fair point. Kaiba was an excellent duelist, one of the best in the world. “I might. I’m a decent duelist, but my deck is hardly top notch, and—”

“You won’t hold me back. I’ll win on my own if I need to.” Kaiba’s voice was ice. His eyes softened a smidge. “But you’re a competent duel partner.”

Kaiba believed in your ability? You gave a faint smile, he wouldn’t have asked you otherwise. “I try.”

“You better.”

After a few minutes of silence, Kaiba spoke up again. “Let me see your deck.”

Switching to the bench Kaiba was sitting on, you pulled your deck out of your belt box and spread the cards between you. Working at a game shop brought advantages; you had managed to get some decent cards, and were using one of the new ‘archetypes.’ When you first found out about the Kozmo cards, you knew you wanted to try and build a deck with them. But even with an employee discount, and Yugi’s Grandpa helping track down cards, you had barely managed to build the simplest form of the deck. 

“Hm.” Kaiba grabbed his silver briefcase from the floor and opened it. His laptop was strapped into the lid, and the base of the case held thousands of dollars worth of cards. Your eyes widened. “Borrow a few for your deck.” It sounded more like an order than an offer.

“I can’t start swapping my cards right before a duel! It could mess up my strategies.” It was stupid, but you didn’t want to feel like you owed him anything.

Kaiba planted his fingers on a few of your cards and slid them across the bench towards you, “I’m offering you a chance to replace your weak staples with stronger options. Take it.”

“Fine, but I’m giving them back after we win. I don’t need your charity.” You took the briefcase from Kaiba and perused the contents. This would require thought. After selecting a few cards like Ice Dragon’s Prison and Pot of Greed, you showed Kaiba the chosen cards and slipped them into your deck. He nodded approvingly.   

Kaiba pulled out his own deck, rifling through the cards idly until he found one of his favorites. 

“Can I look at one of your Blue-Eyes?” You were surprised at your own audacity, but if you wanted Kaiba to treat you like an equal, you would need to act like one.

“Sure.” Extending two fingers, he held the card out.                    

Up till now, you had only held the ripped Blue-Eyes at the game shop. This one was beautiful. You could imagine its roar. Feel its presence. Holding the card was an honor—you felt like Kaiba had handed you part of his soul. 

“Do you know what that card represents?” Kaiba asked.  

“You?”

Kaiba almost smiled. “You spend too much time with Yugi.”

You realized your mistake. “Your power.” It wasn’t a guess anymore, you knew you were right.

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards for a moment, before seriousness won out again. 

You knew the card text without needing to look at it, “This legendary dragon is a powerful engine of destruction. Virtually invincible, very few have faced this awesome creature and lived to tell the tale.” 

“Listen,” Kaiba stared at you intently, “We’re about to step into enemy territory. You can’t show weakness or fear, because our adversaries will pounce on any opening you provide.”

You nodded. “I’ll try, but I don’t feel overly confident right now.”

“Your feelings don’t matter.” Kaiba slammed his deck down on the bench between you. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” It was the truth.

“Then remember my power is behind you now, and act like it.”  

“Kaiba…” You saw no deception in his eyes, only trust, and determination. “Thank you.” You handed back his card, realizing he was letting you into his world because he wanted you at his side. Taking a deep breath, you asked, “How long until we arrive?”

“Less than an hour.”

You leaned back against the wall, which vibrated as the copter beelined for your destination. Closing your eyes, running over everything your deck could do, you tried to focus, until the events of the day caught up to you, and you dozed off. Some time later, your head jerked up as your eyes flew open. It was too quiet. The helicopter had landed on another roof, this one in rolling mountains, surrounded by forests. Standing near the front, Kaiba held a muttered conversation with the pilot. You stretched and rubbed your neck. “This is our destination?” Outside the helicopter, men in suits and sunglasses gathered—a security team. Closing your eyes, you rolled them to slightly reposition your contacts; it was almost time for action.

Kaiba strode to the door. “Remember what I told you.” 

You cracked your knuckles, nodding. “Let’s do this.” Nerves settled themselves; playing a game was easier than waiting for it to begin.

Throwing open the door, Kaiba jumped down. Inhaling deeply, you drew yourself up to your full height; you had always been comfortable with yourself—it was time to stop worrying about manners and act more like Kaiba. You grinned, casually stepping out the doorway and landing beside him. It was cooler here than in Domino City, the air filled with the buzz of cicadas and birdsong.

“What are you doing here?”

Hearing the quiet murmur, you turned to Bishop, who shifted slightly under your gaze. “Surprised to see me?”

“I went to considerable expense to keep you out of this mess, Ms. l/n.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, remembering Kaiba’s words about the high cost of the drugs in your slushy.

“I didn’t want to see a naive little girl get caught up in this game.”

“I’m four years older than Kaiba.” You weren’t angry, you had always looked younger than your age, and you certainly lacked experience in these high stakes games. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“Your boss is using you.” “Hnh.” Kaiba crossed his arms. “I like being useful. Besides,” you slid your hands into your pockets and leaned back against the helicopter, “I make my own choices, Bishop.”

“Suit yourself. But I wash my hands of your fate.”

Before you could reply, the nearby elevator entrance dinged. As the doors slid apart, Mr. O’Malley strolled out before they finished opening. He grinned. “Ah, Mr. Kaiba, I’m so glad you could join us!” The security men parted to allow their employer through. “And you’ve brought a woman with you. I’m impressed. Perhaps even the intolerable Seto Kaiba can attract a pretty face.”

“Don’t waste my time with your ludicrous assumptions, O’Malley.”

“Darling, the girl is obviously a gold digger.” From the elevator emerged a woman with bottle blond hair and flashy jewelry, her makeup and clothes trying desperately to hide her status as a middle aged woman in her forties. She wore a sleek black dress with brown fur accents perfectly matching O’Malley’s tie. 

“Allow me to introduce the missus.” Holding out a hand to his wife, who took it with a regal air, O’Malley presented her as though royalty. “My dear queen Sasha—bright as fireworks in a summer sky, ambitious as Caesar, and lovely as the Ring of Kerry.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Now now, Mr. Kaiba, no need to be rude. I’m sure your own queen has many lovely qualities as well. While her devotion to the white king shows a certain lack of wisdom, I’m sure she possesses other charms.”

He was still using chess metaphors, you noted. 

“Get to the point, O’Malley, we’re here for Mokuba.” 

“Ah yes, your poor little brother. The lad’s been quite adamant you would come for him.”

“Where’s Mokuba?” Kaiba’s tone dropped lower, bristling with hostility. 

“I’m not a cruel man. I shan't keep such devoted brothers apart for long.” Turning gracefully, O’Malley looked back over his shoulder at the two of you. “Please, follow me.” ______ Check out my reader-insert masterlist here!

[comfortlesshurt]

Saw that post about fic-writing-related questions to ask you and so:

1. What's the word that appears most in your current draft?

2. What's your preferred writing font?

3. Where do you get your inspiration? (And is it possible to learn this power?)

4. What's your favourite place to write?

5. Talk about your writing and editing process

6. What's the most interesting topic you've researched for a fic?

7. How do you recharge when you're not feeling creative?

8. Besides writing, what are your other hobbies?

omg yes, thank you!

I just started something last night but it's only 40 words, so I'm gonna jump over to a more substantial WIP to get a better answer for this one. For chapter 6 of the bigger fic I'm working on, the top three are: Keith, Shiro, and time. (Or if you want to exclude names, time, when, and enough!)

I picked Times New Roman 12pt when I was like... 12, and I never abandoned it.

It jumps around! Over the past year, it's honestly mostly been from reading others' fics! (Which is also why I've gotten more fanatic about using the "Inspired By" feature on AO3 recently, because I fully think it's okay to take inspiration from others, but the other person deserves a little boost in reads too!) In the past, I've pretty exclusively relied on other people giving me prompts, but I had to figure out something else when I desperately wanted to write and there was no outside interest.

This one's probably boring, but I can't stand writing on my phone or a laptop, so I exclusively write at my desktop in my living room.

For writing: 1) Get idea (the hardest part). 2) If it's multi-chapter and I know that from the start, I'm not allowed to write anything until there's a basic outline jotted down. 3) The actual writing: Active writing doc on one monitor, outline on the other (if it's a multi-chapter work where I need to keep track of how the current part interacts with other parts), and Spotify in the background! For editing: I'm awful about it. I'm one of those people who edits as I write even though it frustrates me every time. BUT in exchange, the final editing is a lot easier because I've already edited it during every drafting session. I try to do the editing at the start because then it doubles as me reminding myself what I've already written and might give me ideas for what I want to write in the rest of this session. The final editing session after the writing is done is usually just me googling synonyms for the words I think I overused!

Oh man, I'm sure I'm blanking on something more interesting from further in the past, but a recent one has been the actual timeline for Voltron. Like, I always knew it was set in the future, but I never thought about exactly when since the show seems to be intentionally vague, and I had to dig into fan theories to get a good answer to that. Usually if I need to research something, I'll stick to an overview because I will go overboard if I give my brain half a chance, and a brief overview is usually enough to avoid writing anything completely wrong and immersion-ruining.

Ooh, I switch hobbies for a bit! I used to think you can't really call it a hobby if you don't do it almost every day, but that's a silly idea and I've given it up. If I don't feel like writing, I don't write. Usually, I'll get really into reading again during those times, but I might also go back to playing the guitar or drawing. It doesn't matter what it is, as long as it's fun and it's not writing. I just do that until I feel like writing again. That keeps me from associating writing with being frustrated and upset since I only write when I actively want to.

Oops, kinda went into them above already! But other than those ones, I also obsess over statistics, coding, and general math nerd stuff since those are what I went to college for. There are probably other hobbies, but of course they've all popped out of my head now that I'm trying to think of them!

[chattercap]

July 2024 Monthly Devlog

Hello everyone, happy July!

Sorry for the late update this month! I spiraled getting the Hanasu script done, and by the time I realized it half the month had already passed by…how time flies…

WHAT DID I DO?

I ended up working on almost all of my active projects this month, haha!

For Actala, I did… a lot of things, to be honest. I was so set on finishing that I kind of stopped keeping track at a certain point. I finished 10 sprites, including significant redesigns for Faye, Liam, and Shizu. I also did a couple of backgrounds and CGs, and animated most of the CGs that I had done up until that point.

Ultimately, while I did do quite a bit for Actala, I decided to postpone the demo update, as I wouldn't be able to get out a demo with a reasonable scope within the jam time frame (even if I had released Chapter 1, it would have been abbreviated from what I really wanted to release).

For The Deepwater Witch, I made a trailer, fixed up the Steam build, and participated in Steam Next Fest!

For MindMindMind, I fixed up the build for Steam and set it live! I also figured out how to set up DLC.

For Hanasu (the last part of the Karamu trilogy), I had hit a writing roadblock, so I revisited the outline from scratch and reoutlined it. In total I wrote around 20k words for the script during June. I also worked more on the Karamu and Kanau localizations.

I also started development in earnest on my Mythology VN Project, The Perfect Woman, near the end of the month! I collected references and designed the main GUI and did some color palette concepts for the game.

WHAT'S NEXT FOR JULY?

ALAS, July is 2/3 of the way done already, but better late than never! This month, I'm focusing on The Perfect Woman's assets and voice acting casting call. I'm also finishing/finalizing the Hanasu script, in addition to steadily working on the Actala assets.

In the latter part of the month, I'll be polishing the Hanasu script and resuming work on the writing for a secret project! In addition, I'll be working on the coding for The Perfect Woman, as I'd like to be a little more experimental with it than with my other games!

Thank you to everyone who's following along, and see you next month!

Chattercap

[philosophiums]

3, 4, 7, 13, 14, 15, 17, 18, 20, 31, 36, 37, 46, 47, 54, 55, 56, 58, 65, 66, 67, 68, 71 🥰

mariammmmmmm!!!! <33333 thank you sm <3333 there's a read-more somewhere down there but trust i answered them all <33333

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

uhhhhh usually i get an Idea and then i go "damn has anyone done that yet" and if no one has done it exactly the way i want to then i go "well let's get to it then" and i put words down DKJBVJKDBV truly though i usually don't outline or plot super far ahead. i have a thought and then i obsessively think about it for a while and if i can't get it out of my head then i write it. brain to paper and then out into the world (after some edits)

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

everywhere! sometimes from other fics, sometimes from shows/movies (this is less common), sometimes from a song or a poem usually, though, it's just a Thought i have. an "oh what if [x]?" and then it just balloons out from there into some insane project or a short little thing

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

hmmmmm honestly it depends? if it's a one-shot i usually just go with who i'm most comfortable with, but in a long fic there are a list of reasons i might choose one character over another. such as: whose inner thoughts do i want to be in to go over the content of this chapter? who would be more interesting to Look At and Guess About as opposed to being in their head? which character had a POV chap last and should i stick with them or switch out? i have a habit of alternating POVs with each chapter, but sometimes that isn't the case and i'll swap halfway through when i switch scenes, or i will write a couple chapters in a row from the same POV. it's very vibes based for me most of the time, but sometimes it also comes down to which character is Keeping A Secret and whether or not the chapter contents would reveal that secret if i was in their head

13. What’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

it's less of a tip and more of a reality: that the first draft is for getting words onto paper and the subsequent edits are for fixing it i have written myself notes as i go like "hey fix this later" or "remember that he has x" or "look, he's trying to say xyz, please make it actually sound like that in the edit." and the future me who comes across those notes is always mad that past me couldn't just Do That, but the reality is that rough first drafts are just... going to happen. and editing **is** where shit gets fixed, even if it's annoying to have to do that

14. How do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

as with everything this is an answer of It Depends kdsjfvbdjkfvb i mostly draw from things i've read before as far as how characters act, how they move, what their body language would be doing and how that could be interpreted (correctly OR incorrectly depending on what i want out of the scene) i don't usually Feel the emotions i'm writing. there are a couple exceptions (that are far too telling to name) but for the most part i am kinda just repeating in my head the emotion i'm trying to convey in the moment and then i'll pepper in my little reminder notes like road signs to make sure i'm on track when i come back to edit for some things i do draw from personal experience, but again those are. very specific emotions that honestly don't frequently make it onto the page when i write. i have developed an unconscious (but still noticeable) habit, actually, of writing Away from myself - exploring things i haven't done/felt

15. How do you write smut scenes? Do you get very visual or detailed? How important is it to be realistic?

uhhh well more than anything else i really have to be In The Mood to write smut. like i have to be really down with the idea and the dynamics and in the headspace to write it because otherwise it's just. repetitive and annoying and borderline funny to me otherwise, i think i treat smut the same way i treat fight scenes (just.... more drawn out, i guess, because smut tends to also be a conversation and a dive into Character, whereas fight scenes are just Happening yknow?). i try to describe just enough so that readers will get the idea, but not so much that it's no longer sexy. also i feel like smut is something that like.... readers are more imaginative and have a clearer image of what they think is happening, and if all of a sudden i write something that breaks that image (hand movement, position description, whatever) then it can throw them out of the scene. so i dial description back as far as i can while still keeping as much as i need also i'm halfway between wanting realism and not caring. bc on the one hand i refuse to read/write like... anal sex without lube for example, but i don't care what the lube is. lantern oil? fine. lotion? that's chill. magic potion? yeah whatever. i want some realism but i don't struggle to suspend my disbelief either

17. What do you do when writing becomes difficult? (maybe a lack of inspiration or writers block)

i kms kidding honestly i will often just take a break. like. if i was writing for a living, making money off of books i was publishing or w/e, then i would probably try to think of ways to Keep Going, but life is stressful enough. if all writing is doing is stressing me out, i put it aside for a bit. not for Forever (though i have taken... i think my longest writing break was 2 years) but for enough time that the motivation comes back and i think this is just as important if i'm having trouble with like. a specific scene or something. backing off from it for a few hours or a couple days and then coming back to reassess with a clear head is often the best solution

18. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles?

before! i like to have a title in place bc sometimes it's a guideline or sometimes it's good for promoting it even (LMHS is a perfect example of this). also if i title Before then i can work that title into the fic somehow, which is something i really like to do i come up with titles usually based on themes or ideas that i'm playing with in regards to the fic. to get my gears turning i will often pull up random quote generators and just skim until i see a turn of phrase that i like and then start narrowing my search with specific words. TIWH came from a desire to use the word "hollow" somewhere bc i felt that really resonated with the version of nathaniel i was writing, and LMHS came from a desire to use "ghost" or "spirit" or something like that given the overarching themes of the fic and also just. yknow. there are spirits abound dfjvbkjdvb usually it takes me about a day of tossing words and phrases around in my head to come up with something. i think LMHS came to light in about 8-9 hours

20. Have you noticed any patterns in your fics? Words/expressions that appear a lot, themes, common settings, etc?

oh i mean just so many. healing from past trauma is a big one. lately i've been using the word "sharp" a lot which is pissing me off to no end while i'm editing. i bring up mouth and eyebrow movement frequently in an effort to get down external emotions. also i don't think i have consistent settings but i do tend to put characters in places that matter to them at the time (either sentimentally or like... in a way that is going to Affect and/or Change them). i love settings. i love making the setting a character. mwah

31. Do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

plot for sure. i think characters have a reasonable margin for changing within an AU especially (and canon divergence as well to some extent), so it's way easier for me and makes more sense to start with an idea and then go to a plot and then the characters last and i mean..... technically i guess there's an argument that i start with characters in that i know who will be POV usually by the time i start writing For A Fandom just full stop, but that has nothing to do with each individual fic and has everything to do with the characters/ships im interested in

36. How do you write kissing scenes?

infrequently and quickly KJSFBVJKDFBV idk i don't think kissing is All That so i tend to not stick around it for very long. if it's life-changing for the character then i'm way less interested in the kiss itself and far more focused on the character's emotions and inner thoughts. i truly do not care about and do not want to write the physicality of a kiss for more than like. a short paragraph at most. i like the lead-in (or not... sometimes a sudden kiss is better than a will-they-won't-they moment) and i like what happens After, but the kiss itself is meh to me. it's a catalyst at best and a passing comment at the least

37. How do you choose where to end a chapter?

100% vibes. i usually go into chapters with a goal (or multiple depending on how many scenes i want, but still each chapter as a whole is Accomplishing something), and even when i don't outline i have a decent sense for when in the chapter that goal is going to be accomplished. ending the chapter is a combination of goal completion, word count, and whether or not im (read: the character's) in a place (physical or mental) to wrap it up

46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc)

i don't...... know....... i think i'm emotion-driven? i tend to find an emotion i like and gnaw on it for a bit until i've gotten all the marrow out but like.... i also feel like scene to scene and chapter to chapter most of what i spend my time on is just... the movement of the story. getting from one place to the next. getting characters to talk and working out how the plot moves within its confines while still Getting It To Move but maybe that's just. what writing is. idk man someone else needs to tell me what my style is dcjhvbkdjfbv

47. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

twice, usually. sometimes more but that's only if a chapter was giving me a lot of trouble. usually i spend the first edit adding a bunch of shit and fixing spots where i left my notes to myself, and then the second pass over it is for cleaning up little mistakes like punctuation and stuff i'm lucky enough with LMHS that i have help (jinx and hina ily both) looking for those silly little mistakes after i've done my first big edit, and also for looking at specific things that i think may need attention (dialogue, for instance, is something i struggle with a lot)

54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

hhhhh this sounds like. conceited maybe? or needy? or something. but the interaction from readers is my favorite part. and that SHOULDN'T sound bad because fandom is a community and of course fic writers want to have attention for writing, but lately it feels like wanting comments/interaction is Entitled and Bad. and i hate that talk to usssss give us attentionnnnnn we've worked so hard for your enjoymenttttt SO grateful to every single person who has interacted with all of my fics. every kudos and comment or rb of my snippets means the world to me

55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?

i miss writing from neil's pov and have been thinking about going back to him sometime soon (......relatively, given LMHS, but yknow) as far as from jjk, megumi is my favorite pov bc i like his inner conflict and i like making him Wrong about things and experiencing his reactions to being wrong from the inside of his head

56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

i mentioned it briefly before but: setting. i love Actively using setting. it's not just a background, it's a tool at least and another character at best (when i'm really rocking with it). i like for my settings to affect my characters and their moods and the tone of chapters/scenes. i also enjoy when characters and scenes clash (serious tones in a lighthearted setting or the other way around) and exploring what that looks like and playing around with the conflict that brings. i think it's something im good at, and it's fun to me

58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 

brainstorming hands-down. it's easy and lighthearted and unserious. i like throwing things at a wall, seeing what sticks, and then connecting red strings between them. i like Thinking and doing mental gymnastics to make ideas work. i like Imagining the characters doing things within a story idea everything else is, often, Work more than anything, even if there is enjoyment for me in each stage of the writing process

65. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

NORTHERN WATER TRIBE IN LMHS i can't say anything about it but ohhhhhhhhh my godddddddd those chapters are going to be so goooooooood

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

well i don't have deadlines so we can brush that one off also i don't really..... receive negative comments (thankfully <3). i've gotten a couple of comments that were bordering on negative but were just generally uninformed, and i either chose to educate the commenter or simply delete the comment depending on the circumstance. i don't have time for genuine negativity on my fics and in my spaces. don't like don't read and all that as far as pressure to update.... idk i am at the point where it's just a Constant. but like.... real life unfortunately comes first. i have to work so that i can make money and keep a roof over my head which means i am spending 8-ish hours out of the house and w/o the ability to write, and i come home exhausted and without a lot of creative energy left. so i can't write very much or very fast. and that SUCKS, some days more than others. i've had little breakdowns about how slowly i'm writing LMHS, and i hate it, but ultimately it is what it is and i have to take care of myself and my life first before i can spend time on my hobby

67. Do you prefer prompts and challenges, or completely independent ideas?

i used to really enjoy prompts, but that was back when my preferred writing length was quite short, and getting a one-shot to like 5k was an accomplishment these days, my brain thinks only in Big Plots Long Stories, so a prompt wouldn't do anything for me. writing a 2k or less ficlet would not be Fun to me bc i would feel as if i didn't like.... do anything

68. What, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

talk. to myself, mostly. i've spent hours upon hours reasoning/arguing with myself (out loud) about character motivations or chapter movement or how this character feels about this thing that's happening. it's insane, but i'm very good at being both sides of a debate when it comes to what i want to happen or how i think it should come across on-page

71. When it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

okay so here's the thing.... when i'm writing a Long Fic, it's in my head. it's always in my head all the time 24/7, running in the background even when im focusing on other more pressing things. i will get epiphanies in the middle of the day and i will wake up in the middle of the night and have a random thought while drinking water. it's constant LMHS is the first fic i have ever outlined, and my outline process for it is honestly not fucking helpful for keeping track of development or narrative or anything like that. i have a lore doc™ which is essentially just a culmination of everything hina and i yapped about bc this is a collaborative project and i would kms fr if i forgot about a good idea hina suggested. and im doing chapter outlines, but that's just to make writing faster. i'm not outlining super far in advance and i honestly could not tell you the timeline for anything it's all in my head. i have a server bank of fic info floating around and running on background data, and it's both a blessing and a curse bc it means i have everything at my disposal all the time but it also means that i think outlining is a waste of time and is therefore something i don't do further out than like 3 chapters ahead :/

[maharghaideovate]

How DY Patil Prepares You for PMP Certification

While pursuing VMP certification, it certainly does not hurt to have a strong base. In comes the DY Patil Online MBA. DY Patil's curriculum, in a way, almost completely goes in line with the examination requirement for a PMP. Here are some tips and tricks:

Curriculum Alignment with PMP Exam Requirements

Comprehensive Curriculum

The DY Patil Project Management program design is based upon and aligns with the PMP Examination Content Outline. The five process groups defined by PMI that will be taken up for the programme course are:

1. Initiating

The focus will be on the preliminary tasks of starting a project, defining it, and identifying stakeholders and objectives.

The key topics would include project charter, stakeholder analysis, and preliminary scope definition.

2. Planning

Detailed roadmap of the project is to be prepared.

Covers scope planning, time management, cost management, quality management, resource planning, communication planning, risk management, and procurement planning.

3. Executing

lConcerned with the implementation of the plan.

lHandles staff management, assurance in quality, and stakeholder engagement.

4. Monitoring and Controlling

lKeep the project on track.

lFollow up on project performance, manage changes, and assure the attaining of the set project objectives.

5. Closing

lFinalize all activities concerned with the project.

lMake sure the deliverables are accepted and the lessons noted.

Core Courses

1. Project Management Framework

Get to know the overview of Project Management.

While managing a project, one has to get familiar with the five process groups: Initiating, Planning, Executing, Monitoring & Controlling, and Closing.

2. Risk Management

Identify, analyze, and respond to project risks

Focus on both qualitative and quantitative risk analysis.

3. Cost Management

Get a grip on project budgeting

Cost estimating, budgeting, and control

4. Time Management

Mastering the art of project scheduling

Techniques Gantt charts and Critical Path Method

5. Quality Management

Ensure that project deliverables meet the required standards

Quality planning, assurance, and control

Elective Options

1.Agile Project Management

Deep dive into agile methodologies.

Scrum, Kanban, and Lean principles.

2. Stakeholder Management

Learn to identify and manage project stakeholders.

Techniques for effective communication and engagement.

Hands-on Practice

The DY Patil doesn't just throw theory at you. The DY Patil Distance Learning MBA combines practical experiences through case studies with real-world project scenarios to analyze and solve, hands-on practice of project management software through simulations, and group projects where the student gets to collaborate with peers to mimic real project environments.

Tips to Crack the PMP Certification

1. Be familiar with the Exam format: 180 questions: multiple-choice, multiple responses, matching, hotspot, and limited fill-in-the-blank

2. Use PMBOK Guide: The PMBOK Guide is your bible. Read every chapter and know it well. Pay special attention to the glossary for key terms.

3. Practice Exams: Take practice exams as the actual test-timer click, click, click. Review your answers to know what you did wrong.

4. Study Groups: Get together with peers—share thoughts, ideas, study tips, and so much more. Online forums and local study groups can be helpful.

5.Tap Online Resources: Take online courses of good reputation. Sites like PMI.org are excellent study materials.

6. Stay on Your Study Schedule: Study at the same time every day. Cut up study sessions into bits

Enroll in Core Courses

Start with the Project Management Framework to understand the basics.

Proceed to Risk Management, Cost Management, Time Management and Quality Management.

Daily Study Plan

Study the base courses for 2 hours a day.

Make summary notes and flashcards. They will come in very useful during last minute revisions.

Weekly Quizzes

• Try solving quizzes each week to see how well you understand the subject matter.

• Analyse where you are going wrong and focus on those areas the following week.

Conclusion

DY Patil Online MBA will arm you with theoretical knowledge that is further backed by practical skills towards PMP certification. Be it the PMP-exam compliant course structure, rich practical experiences, or a strong alumni network, DY Patil sets you up for success. Follow these tips, stay consistent, and join the ranks of successful PMP-certified professionals from DY Patil.

Enroll in the Online MBA Program at DY Patil Distance MBA and fast-track your project management career.

[breannasfluff]

Quick question, how do you write so much? I fight the words for an hour and have maybe 2 paragraphs of garbage but you pump out really nice work almost every day??? I have so many ideas but I can’t write them for love nor money

I write almost every day, or I take a break and switch it out for drawing. I generally can write a chapter in one go, so usually stock up some backlog to cover days I’m busy. Having multiple stories now means I don’t have that backlog of some, so updates are a bit slower.

As for writing tips:

1. Remove distractions. Shut discord, exit out of tumblr, mute your phone. When you are stuck, don’t go scroll social media. When writing, the only thing I touch the internet for is if I need to check a story item, like a character name, item history, etc. I cannot overstate how important this is. If you are talking to your friends, you won’t have a writing flow.

2. Do not edit as you write. Writing and editing are two different tasks. You switch between creative and critical thinking and it breaks flow. This is a scientific process and you can read more about it here.

Research electroencephalogram (EEG) suggests both heightened electrical brain wave activity and elevated dopamine levels during flow. In other words, your brain experiences both electrical and chemical changes when you’re “in the zone.”

But once you switch to self-editing mode, you move to the critical thinking side of your brain. You halt all of freewriting’s creative electrical impulses and pleasure-sensing dopamine levels. Your mind flips off one switch and turns on another.

3. Set a time, then be done. Give yourself 20 minutes and write as much as you can. Doesn’t matter if it’s garbage. You can edit garbage into something useful or you can chuck it in a bin. Just try to write, then take a break. Staring at a blank document for two hours isn’t going to make words appear and it just stressed out your brain.

4. Have an outline. Sometimes a magical idea just flows when you sit down to write, but generally not. Have an outline of what you want to have happen in your story or chapter. It doesn’t need to be in depth; for most of my oneshots I literally have a sentence or two at the top of the page. The story needs to have a goal. For example: Wild tries to teach Hyrule cooking. It doesn’t go well. Bouncing ideas off friends can be a big help! It’s why you’ve probably seen me post about prompts and suggestions, and sometimes stories are gifted to people. Talking through plot ideas can help you get a better outline or idea of action.

Misc notes:

Hate to say, but some of it is just practice. I’ve been actively writing for a little over a year with some breaks on and off. Making it a habit is a big thing for making it easy. It’s harder to restart after a break.

When I first started writing I tried to pick one aspect to improve for each story. Filter words, pacing, varying sentence starters, story arcs, etc. Fixing multiple things at once was too much work, but one item at a time was doable.

Filter words make such a huge difference in writing; I encourage you to look them up. It’s a PAIN to remove them in post, but it also taught me to cut them out. Now it’s unconscious and while some still show up, I tend to write them out automatically.

You can learn to write quickly, but if you don’t also work on quality you’ll just…write a lot. That said, it’s fanfic. Sometimes it’s just for fun and quality doesn’t matter. I’ve got plenty of stories that will never be posted because they are just for fun.

Some of it could be writing speed, too? I use a bot a lot of times for timing and tracking and generally average 30-35 words/min. Harder story topics are slower to write, like angst and emotional scenes.

I’m actually writing less this year than last, but I don’t put as much time into it. It also keeps it sustainable as a hobby, although I definitely hit periods of frustration. It can get overwhelming.

If you search my blog for the tag #writing advice or #writing tips, you should fine some other things as well.

This was rather frank, but hopefully helpful! Feel free to drop further questions and I’ll do my best to answer 💜

[kitcattales]

Something There - Akaza x Fem! Reader Chapter 4: By Ceramic Teapots

Author's note: Chapter 6 is officially up on AO3 and my other cross-posting sites, so here's chapter 4 for ya'll! \nwn/ Hope you guys enjoy it! As always, warnings and related tags can be found in chapter 1 or you can check out a more thorough list of warnings and tags on AO3! <3 Thanks for making it this far and happy reading~! <3 God bless! <3

CHAPTER ONE, CHAPTER THREE

Cross-posts: AO3, FFN, Wattpad and Quotev

Word count: 15,412

Chapter 4: By Ceramic Teapots

The Mugen Train Station was crowded this evening.

The warm, golden glow of the station lights above were as they had been last: guiding and disorienting all at the same time. Busy people leading busy lives kept walking, coming and going, tickets in hand. Groups and couples walked leisurely along the platform towards their destinations while enjoying the quaint sights around them, as did many singles. Although, interwoven amongst the calm individuals, there certainly were some patrons hastily beelining through the crowds towards wherever their busy lives were taking them.

_______ could hear the chattering of the people, discussing things she couldn’t quite make out. Some seemed content, others happier, others more serious, but they were all in their own bubbles leading lives she’d never get to know about.

Looking down, she noted she was seated on the same metal bench she had been on the last time she was here. She could tell, because it was three seats down from the end of the station platform. She placed a hand on the empty seat beside her, thoughtfully rubbing her thumb against its metal surface. It felt cold to the touch, denying her the warmth she had hoped to find in the familiar spot and replacing it with something she was scared of becoming accustomed to.

Her eyes closed, wanting to block out the sight of the empty seat at her side. In its place, she listened to the crowds instead. Their chatter was so distinct to her, but at the same time, muffled. No matter how clearly she felt she could hear the people around her, she couldn’t make a single word out of whatever it was they were talking about; not about destinations nor loved ones waiting for them nor exciting adventures they were looking forward to. It almost felt like she was eavesdropping on the world from underwater, the voices of life above the surface muffled by crashing, deafening waves.

She didn’t know how she was meant to fight against the waves. It felt like there was an enormous glass pane on the surface of the water which blocked her path, keeping her trapped beneath the surf. No matter what she did to beat the glass pane, no matter how much she tried to scream beyond it, the whitecaps continued to pull her under and beckon her into silence.

At some point, she stopped trying to fight against it all. She didn’t care about the waves nor the surf nor the whitecaps. It all simply was, and she simply had to live with it.

The sound of the wind, however, never swept her by without gathering her attention.

It toyed with her hair, ruffling and braiding it playfully within its wispy fingers while it cooed for her companionship. It was hard to deny its call, so she caved in and chose to follow. Opening her eyes, she turned her head the direction in which the wind guided her. At first glance, the sight was the same as last time. Beyond the vacant tracks of the Mugen Train Station, the forest which outlined the progressive city stared back at her. She almost closed her eyes to it, almost rejected its very existence as muffled and gray as the people walking on the platform around her, but before her lashes fluttered, a familiar detail caught her eye.

Curiously, she leaned forward in her seat, her elbows resting on her knees for leverage. The wind picked up once more with her movements, and the wispy being began to dance and play with the leaves of the trees, their giggles carried out in the atmospheric night to greet her with longing.

The trees with which the wind danced were not the tall cypresses she knew of bordering the train station.

No, instead, the wind had embraced itself hand-in-hand with mighty cedars.

Cedars of the cedar woods she was well-acquainted with.

She drew in a slow, deep breath as she stared towards the dark, familiar forest and released it through her slightly parted lips. The way the tall cedars waved at her with their friendly yet mischievous branches called for her, wishing to have her join them and the wind in a cordial dance of reunion, but she didn’t move herself from her seat. Rather, she simply continued to watch, her eyes scanning the individual tree trunks lining the outskirts of the newly bordering forest.

Watching the woods caused for her chest both to ache and soothe. The vacancy of the train tracks between herself and the tree line ominously reminded her of what had happened or what was yet to come in this strange land she found herself in. The emptiness and the truth behind it caused those rusted strings within her to strum with vigor, just as they had done the night before, and it was nearly enough to make her curl into herself on the bench. The problem was, she didn’t want to allow herself to break down on the platform surrounded by so many people preoccupied in their own lives just as much as she was. She didn’t want the attention – nor did she want to be a disruption.

Instead, she clasped her hands together, fingers intertwined. She took in another deep breath, though this one painfully stung at her throat and lungs. Her heart felt like it was hammering into infinity within her chest, ringing in her ears, crying out for help. Her eyes burned with the threat of tears for what felt like the millionth time, but she forced herself to maintain her composure.

She had been crying far too much as of late.

She felt ashamed for it.

What right did she have to cry when she was still alive?

Denying herself the human right, she simply did everything within her to keep her thousand-yard stare on the cedar woods and off of the station platform.

She felt…afraid.

She was scared that, if she allowed herself to look back, if she allowed herself to properly look at the warm, gold lights and the hustle and bustle of the pedestrians passing her by, she would be forced to relive that moment again.

She already knew what would happen in this story.

She already knew how the hero’s journey would end.

She already knew the conclusions, the what ifs and everything in between.

She didn’t need to see it happen again. She was afraid to. Her entire being hurt so much already – it was excruciating, what she felt she was going through. The cords wrapped and wound so tightly around her heart strummed and orchestrated no matter how much she tried to stop them. The vibrations of their melancholic melody ached and pained her bones with their echo, forcing quakes within her she couldn’t control. If someone saw her, they might think she felt cold in the evening air, but that wasn’t it. At least, not in the way they thought.

The cedar woods, however, offered her comfort.

It hurt to look at them, because they reminded her of her journey through their depths and what had occurred within them. Yet…they also brought her a soothing sense of warmth. It was something she felt deep guilt for, finding comfort in the forest of demons thanks to the peculiar existence of the Third Upper Moon, but it was all she had right now to keep her as steady and contained as she could manage.

As long as she kept her eyes on the woods and her mind on the comfort Akaza allowed her to borrow, she wouldn’t have to relive anything. She wouldn’t have to remember memories she’d rather forget. She wouldn’t have to accept a reality she woke up hoping was a terrible nightmare each and every day.

She hated how much her chest hurt. She hated the feelings of immense pain and grief she constantly felt constricting her being, making it harder and harder to breathe with each day that passed her by. She didn’t want to feel any of it anymore. No matter how empty she thought she felt, the pain always returned one way or another, and it stuck to her like a curse. It leeched off of her life, consumed her in ways she couldn’t describe. It was a parasite morphing into her body, becoming her and turning her into it, pushing her further into a bed of questionable choices that never led to any proper solutions. If she allowed it to continue this way, she wouldn’t exist anymore. She nearly got to that end last night already. Somehow, someway, she needed to find a way to bury those feelings. She needed to dig that hole in the ground as deep as she could go, until she met with the molten core of the planet, and there, she needed to bury those feelings until they were lost forever and she felt nothing in their place.

That’s what she wanted most: to feel nothing.

As she struggled to stay afloat within those thoughts, she felt a large, strong hand come to rest upon her shoulder, an intense and comforting warmth instantly soaking into her being where it touched.

“You need to allow yourself to feel those emotions, young _______, no matter how much they might hurt right now.”

Rengoku’s voice softly remarked from behind her, causing for her hazed, pained eyes to widen. A knot in her stomach tightened as she felt him lovingly squeeze her shoulder, and a ripple effect followed in the form of a harsh quiver upon her person. A grimace of pain molded the look of emptiness away from her face as her rusted strings strummed ever louder within herself.

She knew it was him before he even spoke. By the touch of his hand and the warmth of his palm which radiated with nothing but love and comfort, she knew it was him – his voice only served to confirm what she already knew.

Still, she refused to look away from the cedar woods.

She was too scared to look. If she looked, it would be real. If she allowed herself the chance, she’d feel it all over again. She couldn’t do it. She didn’t have the strength to watch it happen again. So, she continued to keep the cedars company the same way the being within it kept her, her only reply to her dear mentor and friend being a pitiful whimper.

Rengoku clearly didn’t mind.

Rather, he simply chose to meet her where she was.

Though she refused to turn away from the woods, she could see him from the corner of her eye, walking around the bench and coming to take the empty seat beside her just like before. She was too scared to face him, but she could still see parts of his fiery mane of hair in her peripheral, gold and crimson, just like she held so dearly in her memories.

“Those emotions are a part of you,” He carried on. “You’re only hurting yourself by denying them. You’re denying a part of who you are, and in doing so, losing yourself in the process.”

“I don’t care if I’m losing myself…” She managed to murmur out to him, low and somber. “I don’t want to feel any of this anymore, Rengoku. I wish I couldn’t feel anything at all anymore…”

“You don’t really mean that.” He denied her claim, his tone tender yet strong. Supportive. “You know you don’t mean that. You and I both know you would never genuinely feel that way, deep down inside.”

“You’re wrong.”

She shook her head, watching as the cedars swayed and opened their arms towards her, calling for her to enter their embrace with whispered promises of better days.

“All I feel lately is this…intense, consuming, confusing mixture of pain, hurt, hate, anger, grief, shame, guilt, uselessness, helplessness and so many other things all jumbled up into one, and even then, I feel a drowning emptiness at the same time…I don’t want to feel any of it anymore, Kyo, I really don’t.” She referred to him by the nickname she used with him in the past, deciding that formalities between mentor and student didn’t matter anymore when he was, once again, minutes away from death. “I wish I couldn’t feel anything anymore, and I wish I felt indifferent towards life. I wish I didn’t care. I wish none of it mattered.”

“That’s not true, _______. You know it isn’t. You’re lost. That’s why you’re here again and still grasping to understand why. You’re lost and in a lot of pain, but I know you don’t mean that.” He continued to deny what she tried to say, never raising his voice nor becoming impatient with her.

“Please, face me. Don’t be afraid. I’m right here.”

Her eyes tightly closed, his request having vigorously thrummed at the strings which entangled her besieged heart. Her grimace deepened and a sharp, shaken breath left her as she forced herself to catch a pathetic sob in her throat.

She didn’t want to look at him. If she looked at him, the scene would progress forward, and she’d be forced to watch him leave again. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to watch him board the Mugen Train and ride off to his death again. She knew that’s how this story would end, but she isn’t ready for it yet. So, she continued to reject his request, even blocking out the cedar woods now. Nevertheless, the mighty cedars never ceased their calls for her with their rustling in the wind, their leaves cooing out her name with promises of hiding her away from the painful reality she tried so hard to run from.

“Why don’t you want to look at me, _______?” Rengoku’s voice softly broke through the sound of the cedars. “Are you angry with me for leaving on the Mugen Train?”

“Of course not!”

Her eyes snapped open once more, desperately scanning over the miles of dark hidden beyond the cedars. Her denial of his question was automatic, refusing to give him any room at all to even consider the possibility he put on the table.

“How could I ever be mad at you for something like that? I know you were doing what you believed in, and I would never be angry with you for that. In fact, I’m proud of you for everything you’ve done and who you are.” Her eyes began to water, blurring her vision. Though trembles began to take her body once more, she was adamant on staying upright. She needed to keep her eyes on the comfortingly cooing forest to help her let the words out she had the chance to say.

“I’m so damn proud of you for who you are, Kyojuro. I’m proud of you for fighting as hard as you did, to the very bitter end, for the sake of protecting people weaker than you. I’m proud of you for watching over everyone you could and for being the person people needed even when you didn’t have anyone to be there for you in return. You became the person you always needed for those around you, for people like me. You lived and fought for what you believed in, and I couldn’t be prouder of you, and I’m just as proud to be able to call you my mentor and friend.”

“If that’s the case, then why won’t you look at me? What’s stopping you from facing me tonight?”

She remained silent for a moment, her gaze lifting to the sky and focusing on the full moon above. Her lower lip quivered again and it was starting to get harder to breathe normally through the tears which tried so hard to escape her.

She didn’t want to cry again.

She wanted to keep everything bottled up.

She wanted to bury it all and pretend everything is fine.

She wanted to pretend she was fine.

So, once again, she tried to take in a calming breath, but this one was so unstable, it forced her to fall against the backrest of the bench. This motion brought Rengoku’s view more into focus in the corner of her eye as she faced the forest again, trying with all her might to calm herself down.

“I-I’m scared, Kyo…” She finally whispered. “I’m scared of facing you just to watch you leave again…I know you have to do it; I know you have to go, b-but…I don’t want to. I don’t want to watch you go again…”

She knew none of what she did nor said mattered. She knew that, one way or another, all of this would end and he would board the Mugen Train once again. She knew nothing could change nor alter the course of history, but…she still wanted to stall him, still wanted to delay the arrival of the train. She knew, no matter how many times they sat on this bench, it would always arrive right on time. She knew, but still…

From the corner of her eye, she saw him begin to move. His hands came into view, obstructing her sights of the cedars as they came to rest upon her cheeks. The warmth his large palms enveloped her skin with caused her to let out a labored whimper, her eyes fluttering, fighting hard to keep her tears from falling as he guided her to look at him.

When her eyes met with his, all she saw was love and pride.

On his face, there was a soft and thoughtful smile, sincere in his emotions. Those fiery hues of his…they held that adamantly proud gaze she wondered if he still had for her. She could see the emotion clearly and vividly in his eyes, nothing masqueraded nor feigned. The waves and whitecaps within her nearly had her convinced that he would never look to her with pride ever again because of all the mistakes she’s made, because of how far she’s fallen, but as she gazed upon his expression, it was undeniable that all her thoughts on the matter had been false.

She supposed he…somehow really is still proud of her…

The realization caused her to sink into his open palms, one of her hands coming to rest on his as she pressed her cheeks against his hands. God, the feel of him, the warmth of him…Did he always feel this way? Was she really already forgetting the feel of his touch and the warmth of his palm…?

Despite her stubborn battle to keep her tears to herself, a couple of the solemn drops slipped down the curves of her cheeks and wet his skin, but he didn’t seem to mind. He simply rubbed her cheeks with his thumbs and softened his smile at her as he wiped her skin dry of those heartbroken drops of rain.

“It’s okay to feel afraid.” He assured with a gentle hush. “I know it’s scary and that’s okay, but I promise I’ll always be with you, _______, even if it isn’t in the way you’d like right now. One day, a very long time from now, we’ll be together again, but for now, I’ll accompany you wherever you go. I’ll always be there; I always have been. It’s okay to be afraid of the pain, but likewise, it’s okay to feel that pain as well. You deserve to work through it just as much as everyone else does, but you need to allow yourself to do so first.”

“I-I don’t want to, Kyo…”

She denied through her tears now, the droplets falling as they came. No matter how she tried, no matter what she did, they fell like rainwater upon her face, so she gave up on trying. Within Rengoku’s hold, wrapped up in his warmth, there was nothing on God’s green Earth that could hold her back.

“I h-hate feeling this way…It feels so loud and muffled in my head all at the same time, l-like I’m drowning underwater. It’s agonizing, how much everything hurts…I just want it all to stop, Kyo, I-I want it to stop…I never want to feel a damn thing again – even the crippling emptiness is better than feeling anything at all…”

“Oh, young _______...” Rengoku shook his head and softened his smile further, the look in his eyes heartbreakingly compassionate. “If you couldn’t feel anything at all, you wouldn’t get to know about what’s waiting on the other side of all those negative emotions. You wouldn’t know happiness, love, peace, care, joy, laughter and all the other wonderful emotions in between that come with the good in life and make it worth living through the bad.”

Tilting his head slightly to the side, he took a moment to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear before pulling his hands away from her cheeks. Despite how much it hurt to be in this moment, now that her eyes were on him, she couldn’t bear to look away. It hurt like hell to know how this story would end, but at least…at least one more time…she could watch him smile, could listen to him talk and could be with him, even if it certainly wasn’t in the way she wanted.

“The truth is, this painful grief that you’re going through right now only proves that you once knew happiness and love. You knew all of those wonderful emotions before – and you’ll know them again. I know it might feel as though the hurt hangs over you forever, but believe me when I tell you that one day soon, these feelings will come to pass. One day soon, you’re going to know peace again, and when that day comes, I look forward to seeing your genuine smile return to you.”

Something inside of her told her his words were true (after all, Rengoku would never lie to her), but it was so difficult to believe there would be a break in the storm within her mind. She knew he was right, that she used to be happy and she used to know these joyous emotions, but it felt so old now; did she really remember what those feelings were like to have? Can she properly remember what it felt like to genuinely, sincerely smile?

It hurt more than she thought it would to realize she couldn’t.

Suddenly, catching her completely off guard, a new pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind, pulling her out of her own thoughts and into a strong embrace.

“Yeah, _______! Listen to what good ole Rengoku is telling you! If you couldn’t feel anything, you wouldn’t be able to remember our stories and how they made you feel back then! Wouldn’t that be a crying shame?”

_______ stiffened up something fierce in the arms of her new visitor. Her (eye color) eyes widened as far as they could go, staring into the joyously amused expression of her mentor as he watched the scene unfold before him.

Before she could react, a new hand found its place on her head, lovingly and teasingly ruffling up her hair until multiple strands were completely set astray. The gesture was playful with a hint of a tease, but it was undeniably filled with just as much love as the first visitor’s embrace was. They both radiated with a warmth she feared she would forget with the passage of time, and though she may still desperately cling to the memories of their touch, nothing compared to feeling the real thing.

“I couldn’t agree more. You can’t go forgetting us and the memories we share together so easily, _______. We’re a family, after all. We all carry these memories and feelings with us through thick and thin, and we’re going to hold you up to your end of it too.”

Her eyes met with Rengoku’s, the undeniable shock on her face asking without words if what was happening was what she thought it to be. When he gave her a single, thoughtful nod of the head, she sprung to her feet, pulling away from the arms and hands which held her to stare into the faces of the two men standing behind her.

“Keisuke…?! Botan…?!”

The two brothers chuckled and smiled in unison, Keisuke nodding in confirmation for her while Botan gave her a cheeky wink.

Keisuke – the oldest of the two – stood a couple inches over his younger brother. The smile he bore was warm and inviting, strong and reassuring – friendly, just as he had always been. His deep brown eyes never failed to bring the image of freshly brewed coffee accentuated by the delightful note of smooth chocolate to her mind, the warmth within those comforting hues almost identical to a morning brew. His lengthy tresses of deep black hair were gathered into the messy bun he always kept them in, a few strands blowing freely in the wind on either side of his face contrasting against his pale skin. His haori hugged his shoulders much the same way as Rengoku’s did, but his was as dark as night, a pattern of paper cranes flying upwards to the boundless sky adorning a majority of its fabric.

Botan, on the same branch as his brother, was as brilliantly bright as the sun was luminous. His grin stretched from ear-to-ear just as it always had, his pearly whites on full display as playful chuckles continued to escape his lips. His eyes, the same earthy coffee ground brown as Keisuke’s, were crescent-shaped from joy, the skin by them crinkling up exactly the same way she remembered they always did. In contrast to Keisuke, Botan’s hair was always cut short and messy. He always kept his wavy chestnut locks parted heavily to the right, and before her very eyes, she was witness to the way they almost cheekily cascaded down the right side of his face like waves of liquid mahogany. His haori he wore by the sleeves. It was deep cerulean in color, accented by various traditional images of golden clouds and dignified eastern dragons.

Around both of their necks, she noticed the necklaces bearing their family crest she remembered they always wore with great pride. The necklaces themselves were nearly identical down to the sturdy silver link chains and the matching kamon pendants displaying the intricate plum blossom of their lineage. The only difference between the two was the color of the gem linked above the kamon pendants themselves, Keisuke’s an ethereal jade and Botan’s a creamy pearl.

The two men looked…exactly as she remembered they did before their passings.

Bright.

Happy.

Loving.

Proud.

Beautiful.

_______ rushed towards her dear friends once she drank in the precious sight of the two, tossing herself at them with her arms wide open. When they were enveloped in her tight, desperate embrace at long last, she pulled them in as close to her as she was able and pressed her forehead against their shoulders once the trio was huddled together. When she felt their strong arms wrap around her just as tightly with the same amount of vigor as her, she began to sob openly into the wind while she took large handfuls of their haoris in her grasp to keep them from fading away.

“Keisuke, Botan, I-I’m so sorry…!”

Those were the first words she spoke.

“I-I am so, so s-sorry…! I tried to save both of you, I-I really did! I fought the demons off all night long t-to keep the two of you safe and to stop them from taking you away, but it wasn’t enough…! When everything was over, i-it was already too late a-and you just…! You were dead! I’m so, so very sorry…! I-I’m so sorry I let the two of you down the way I did!”

Keisuke brought his hand to rest on her head once more, stroking her hair to offer her comfort in the midst of her grief. Likewise, Botan brought his hands to rest on her back, running them up and down along her frame, warming her trembling figure with his comforting, protective presence.

“There’s nothing you need to be sorry about.” Keisuke assured, his lips pressing over the top of her head. “What happened wasn’t your fault. Botan and I know you did the best you could that night. You don’t need to apologize for something like that.”

“It was out of your control,” Botan murmured softly by her ear. “You didn’t know what was going to happen that night, and the decisions we made were our own. You have no blame in what happened. We chose, not you.”

She tugged desperately on their haoris, her mouth held agape as she cried aloud with no sense of control nor composure. Her tears, salty and unforgiving, were soaked by the fabric of their beautifully familiar coats. Each and every single drop of rain which fell from her eyes were elicited by the deep, loving sounds of their voices she had tried so hard no to forget; they were encouraged by the scent of them which always managed to take her to a different place and time in the universe. When she was in their arms, she felt as though they were seated by a peaceful waterfall, stories shared between them and laughter drifting in the breeze like the good old days.

With every ounce of her being and every bit of her will, she had desperately clung to the memory of them. She was so scared she would start forgetting. She was terrified to watch those memories slip from her fingertips, forced to watch them drift into the furthest depths of space where she’d never know nor hear of them again.

Despite her fears, they’re right here, proving her painful thoughts wrong.

Their voices, their scents, their embraces, their touch, their warmth; it was all right here.

She was cause for their death. It was her fault they were dead and gone, and she knew she didn’t deserve to fall apart in her mournful tears within their arms, but there wasn’t a force in the universe that could pull her away from them in that moment.

She was guilty.

She was a hypocrite.

She was nothing.

Still, it didn’t matter.

All that mattered was the feel of them in her arms and she in theirs, as if she had never lost them to begin with. She would give a million tomorrows and a million more to be able to stay in this space, to never have to watch it fade away again. Even though she knew it was impossible, her broken heart thrumming at the rusted strings of her very soul wished for it so deeply that she almost convinced herself it was possible.

As long as she clung to them with all her might, could she stop the wind from taking them away?

If she never let go, would they stay?

Would they share a million tomorrows and a million more?

“B-but…it absolutely was my fault…” She choked out in broken bits, her nails digging into the intricate cloths of their haoris. “I-if I had just…j-just paid more attention to what I was doing…If I hadn’t been so o-overly confident in myself and my abilities…neither of you would’ve had to rescue me…Y-you’d both be with me still, breathing and living your lives…” Deeper, she sunk into the brothers, and in perfect time, she felt them squeeze her closer as well.

“You’ve both placed such a h-heavy price on my worthless life that I have no idea how to repay…I don’t deserve the breath y-you both saved for me, I-I really don’t, and losing you has left me feeling so…l-lost…What am I supposed to do, Keisuke? W-what am I supposed to do, Botan? I-I didn’t deserve the price you both paid a-and I never will…You should’ve…Y-you should’ve just let the demon kill me that night…”

“Never.”

Both of the brothers retorted in unison, their tones firm and sure.

“You are everything but worthless, _______. You are as much a part of us as we are of you.” Keisuke remarked, his hand guiding her head to comfortingly nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

“You’re our family, _______. You’re priceless to us. We made the choice to save you because of that – because you are worth more than you’ve ever allowed yourself to believe.” Botan added, pressing a loving kiss to the side of her head.

“We would choose to save you time and time again, _______. If dying means you can live on, we’ll choose it every single time.”

As the brothers’ voices turned to one, she felt her knees buckle beneath her. She collapsed in their arms upon the station platform, and she could swear her cries grew as loud as they could become within her tattered soul, but they sounded muted and muffled to her. She was being dragged beneath the waves, the whitecaps forcing saltwater into her lungs to weigh her down. The glass pane above the surf was too thick for her to break through no matter how hard she kicked and pounded against it.

“It’s not your fault. You have no blame. We chose our fates to end the way they did because we love you. We have no regrets. To know you survived is our greatest victory. Not the many demons we fought and won against, not the many missions we finished, not how far we got as Demon Slayers – you. You are our greatest victory. We want you to live on and tell our stories to new people. We want you to feel happiness again. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to feel. We believe in you. We know, very soon, you’re going to understand why you keep coming back here. Don’t give up on yourself, ________– we never did.”

The waves were grabbing her, drowning her in their murky depths. Through her tears and the surf, she saw the blurred image of them, but they were too far away. She reached through the violent waters, hands outstretched and fingers desperately grasping, but the rapids dragged her out further and further, twisting her within its ferocity. She swore she would die beneath the waves, locked out of breath by the glass pane.

Through the violent sea’s storms and tumults, however, they were there.

Their warmth surrounded her regardless of the glass pane dividing them.

Their arms kept her taut to their forms, unshaken by the aggressive quakes which raked her very bones. Her cries and whimpers which bubbled beneath the waves didn’t scare them away. It didn’t matter that her words were formless, voiceless and silent – they would be there through it all.

Within the midst of this catharsis, the warmth of Rengoku’s presence washed over her as well. It blanketed atop the three within the group’s embrace on the station platform’s floor, forming a protective cover for them. Upon her person, she could feel his arms hug around her and her boys, his haori shielding them from the world around them.

In the distance, she could hear the ominous, foreboding sound of the Mugen Train’s whistle blowing into the cool evening air once again, but still they stayed. She knew it wouldn’t last, she knew she’d be forced to watch them go, and she was terrified to be away from this warmth again.

Living felt so cold without them.

“You are worthy. You deserve to live on. You deserve every breath that leaves your lungs. You. Are. Enough.”

The violent storm was ceaseless and she wasn’t strong enough to break out of the crashing waves and drowning whitecaps, but through the glass pane, she still saw them.

Blurred as they were, she saw them.

Though the thick glass separated them, she felt them.

Through the crashing, muffling waves, she heard them.

“You. Are. ENOUGH.”

~¤ ¤ ¤~

Her pillow was wet again.

Its damp, flimsy fabric somewhat clung to the side of her cheek as her senses returned to her, but she didn’t care. Slowly, her eyes opened just a crack, and through her fluttering lashes, she caught sight of the gentle rays of sunlight greeting her through the open window.

People were walking down the streets of Tatsukawa Village again, their chatter muffling into the background ambiance of nature. The birds chirped alongside the people, conversing in a language of their own, but she felt she might understand them better than the people surrounding her as the days continued to pass her by if she only tried to listen a little harder. The skies above were bright blue once more, she noted, the fluffy white clouds lazily drifting by paying an homage to the life down on the ground for the day they had in store.

There was beauty to be had and appreciated in this shattered world, but from behind her endless pane of glass, everything looked blurry. All the beautiful sights and sounds all mixed into one until nothing was distinguishable. From behind the glass, she could only make out odd shapes and blurry faces tied to distant sounds she couldn’t differentiate between the songs of life and simple white noise.   

Distantly, her tired eyes stared into the infinite sky, her mind filled with empty static. Images of the dream she had awoken from continuously played in her head. They were the cause for the wetness upon her pillow, for the tears which dampened her skin. She could remember the absolutely devastating pain she felt on that train station platform so vividly that, if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve believed it all actually happened. Her dreams as of late have been a theatrical display of difficult, complex emotions she didn’t know how to cope with, but right now, she felt nothing.

She felt numb inside.

Seeing Keisuke and Botan in her dreams with Rengoku was something she wished she could experience in real life just one more time, but she knew better than to cling to a wish so fictitious.   

After feeling everything at once which she tried so hard to keep buried beneath the surface, there was little room for her to feel much of anything else in the aftermath.

The waters calmed, though they kept her beneath the surface. Swallowed within the overwhelming blue, she could feel the waves settle for a moment’s breath only to gain momentum for the next time her strings were thrummed.

For now, the saltwater simply aided in building the rust around her cords once more.

With an immense push of effort, she rolled herself over in bed, turning away from the window to stare at the wooden ceiling above her. There, she inspected the individual grains she could make out in the boards, wasting the ticking minutes which passed her by. The only movement she allowed herself to make for a very long time was to wipe her face dry of the tears she wept in her dreams, numb to the ache that came with those olden droplets.

She had to think about it for a while, trying to find a pocket of strength within her to push herself away from the heavy bedsheets hugging her down to the mattress she laid upon. They felt weighted to her, as if they were monstrously hefty, filled with nothing but rocks and stones to keep her nailed down where she was. They offered her warmth, and though it felt nothing like the warmth she craved, it still did a very good job at faking it. The heavy, weighted warmth made it hard to want to try to leave their smothering embrace.

Everything in her told her to stay where she was so she could rot with the passage of time beneath those suffocative bedsheets, but the voices of Keisuke, Botan and Rengoku whispered in the back of her mind to fight against the poisonous thoughts of hopeless compliance.

She didn’t want to.

Every muscle, bone and nerve within her begged for her to stay suffocatingly cocooned within the covers. They cried for her to give them a break from the shattered world outside her open window, but she knew she didn’t have that luxury to spend. Thus, with the ghost of the hands of those she loved most supportively pressing against her back and shoulders, she pushed herself up to sit within her sea of blankets and face another day.

She felt disoriented at first, like someone forcefully pulled her out of a fever dream. Groggily, she looked around herself, gathering a sense of her surroundings again, until her eyes took notice of something she had completely overlooked the night before.

Resting against the far corner of her room was her Nichirin sword, sheathed and just as she had left it last. She hadn’t noticed in the disarray, but it seemed Momoko or one of the other healers must’ve left it in the room for her while she was unconscious or asleep. Its presence here with her, completely the same as she last remembered it to be, left her thinking about the perplexity of it.

After all, she didn’t come back to the village last night.

She was brought back.

That meant Akaza brought her sword with her when he left her here.

Why wouldn’t he destroy it? Or at least toss it somewhere far away within the vast cedar woods? As a Demon Slayer, a new one would’ve promptly been forged for her by the Corps’ special swordsmiths as they did for all Slayer’s whose swords were damaged or lost in combat, but at least it would’ve definitely left her fully defenseless while she was in the village. Ultimately, it would’ve left her and every single one of the villagers in Tatsukawa vulnerable to any and all demon attacks from the neighboring woods, and to her, that felt like an obvious blow and win for a demon to make on a bunch of humans.

Yet…for whatever reason…Akaza hadn’t done that.

He left her with her only form of defense despite the fact that their realities kept them fighting on opposing sides.

She couldn’t wrap her head around it nor could she find a way to understand the peculiar Upper Moon’s motives, but she supposed it wasn’t important anymore. She didn’t think she’d ever see Akaza again, so it just…is what it is.

Whether that was a good thing or not, she wasn’t so sure.

She turned her gaze away from her sword at the thought, not wanting to dwell upon the what ifs right now. Rather, she needed to get herself up and moving again. She didn’t know where her life was headed now nor did she know how long it would last after last night and the dreams she had, but she did know one thing: continuing to live on her borrowed time meant she still had a chance to secure Tatsukawa’s safety.

Though she had sent her Kasugai Crow for backup, there was still no word as to what or who would come. She owed it to the villagers to stay until reinforcements arrived, to protect a people who saw so much good in her she could never find on her own. What would happen to her after Tatsukawa Village, she didn’t know, but she tried not to think about it too hard. She would follow the currents of the crashing waves and abyssal waters wherever they lead her, but right now, she felt the need to fight against the current just a little bit longer for the people of Tatsukawa.

For the memories of Keisuke and Botan.

With them as her driving force, regardless of how persistently the bedsheets attempted to keep her woven within the confines of their cocoons, she pushed herself to the edge of her bed and pressed her bare feet to the floorboards beneath her. The wooden boards squeaked and creaked welcomingly, encouraging her in her fight to keep going – and she listened this time.

She stood to her feet, pushing passed the overwhelming effort she needed to find within herself to do so. Though her body continued to ache from the long weeks of battles for Tatsukawa’s sake, she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel better than the night before. The pain had faded away a good deal over the course of the evening, and the protest within her bones grew quieter and quieter with each step she took towards the chair where her uniform was folded upon.

Was it Momoko’s medicine that helped or was it Akaza’s gross medicinal tea? I wonder…

She laughed a bit to herself humorlessly at the thought. She would never know which of the two did it, but she figured she didn’t need to know. In their own regards, it felt like they both did something to help. What a weird thought that was. A demon trying to heal a human – who would’ve thought?

Shaking off the oddly somber memory of him, she began to dress herself in her uniform. It was cleaned and pressed, any holes it had last night now sewn shut with hand-sewn needle and thread. One of the healers must’ve taken care of it the night they found her at the entrance of the village after they changed her into a dry, clean set of loose night clothes.

She would have to thank all of them when she had the chance. They worked so hard to keep her well…She didn’t deserve it, but they still did so much for her sake.

She frowned, staring at her patched-up right sleeve once she was clothed again.

Her mind was in a distant place in that moment, her thumb tracing over the individual stitches in the fabric of her sleeve, offset by the white thread used on the black background. Only when she heard the creaking of the bedroom door did she turn away from the stitches.

Turning around, she faced Momoko as she walked inside.

Momoko seemed to be in a brighter mood today than she was the day before. She was anxious yesterday, _______ had noticed, but she couldn’t blame her for it. After so long of living in fear of the moon rising to the sky, it was natural she would feel on edge as the days continued to move forward without a whisper from the forest. This morning, however, she seemed to be at ease. There was a pleasant smile on her face, her eyes, blue as the midday sky, were bright and friendly. Her short, straight, black hair was neatly tied into a ponytail, her fringe bangs perfectly lined above her eyebrows. The hairstyle accented her and her face well, aiding in drawing attention to her eyes of blue skies as well as her pale pink lips angled to her crescent-shaped smile. All-in-all, she came off completely different today than she has the entire time _______ has been stationed in Tatsukawa.

“Good morning, _______. It’s good to see you up again. How are you feeling today? Any better?”

_______ nodded, forcing a small, polite smile to her lips.

She had forgotten what it felt like to genuinely smile. It took her a while, but she eventually mastered the art of faking it for appearances. She didn’t want people asking her if she was alright or if there was anything wrong when faced with the vacant look in her eyes and the unreadable expressions she often made, so she learned and she learned quick.

She didn’t want to be impolite to the people of Tatsukawa Village in any form of the word, so she made good use of her counterfeit talents around them just as she did with everyone else. Nevertheless, her smiles may not be real, but the great fight she put up in secret every day to give the people around her the emotions they deserved were always genuine.

“Good morning, Momoko. I’d like to say I’m feeling better today, better than I felt before anyway. Thanks for asking.”

“Well, that’s great to hear!” Momoko chirped, though a sheepish look soon took her expression as she continued to linger by the open door. “I hope I’m not disturbing you? I see you have your uniform on again.”

_______ shook her head.

“No, not at all. Actually, I woke up not so long ago and only just got dressed.”

“Ah, well that’s a relief then.” Momoko’s friendly smile returned to her. “I just stopped by for two things, so I won’t take up too much of your time. First, Namba-san asked us to let you know he’d like to speak with you about something. He didn’t tell me what it deals with, but he did say it was important, so whenever you feel ready, you should consider paying him a visit. Second, would you like your breakfast here or would you like to join the others and I around the table this morning?”

At the mention of the village head’s name, _______’s brow furrowed. She supposed it wasn’t strange that he wanted to have a one-on-one meeting with her after everything that’s recently transpired. With the last two days of peace Tatsukawa has known and the fact that they all found her unconscious by the village after having disappeared within the cedar woods, she could only imagine there were a couple of things he’d like to exchange words about. For now, she could only assume the importance of the matter must deal with the safety of the village and a conversation on their newfound, questionable peace.

“Alright, thank you for letting me know. I’ll make sure to head over right away. As for breakfast, don’t worry about me and just go get yourself something to eat instead. I’ll sit down for a bite once I’m back, but thank you for offering.”

Truth be told, she didn’t want to be around other people for too long right now. No offense whatsoever towards Momoko and the other healers; they were all a lovely bunch and she appreciated having them around.

The problem wasn’t them – it was her.  

Solitude felt like her dearest companion as of late, and no matter how much time she got with him, she feels she needs more and more of his time as the days pass her by to really feel like herself.

Today was especially true to that fact.

Thankfully, Momoko didn’t press. She simply nodded her head in understanding and gave her a knowing look.

“No problem. You know where to find us if you need us. Be safe out there, _______.”

With that, Momoko left, closing the door behind her to give _______ the privacy she needed to get ready for the day ahead.

She let out a long, steady sigh when she was on her own again, her expression falling to the somber look she only ever allowed herself to have when she was alone.

Turning to look back towards her open window, she watched for a second or two as the gentle breeze of the day ruffled the bundled curtains. She considered going over to close it, but eventually decided to leave it open.

Maybe doing so would allow the sun’s warmth to enter the room while she was gone.

With that decided, she glanced back at the night clothes she strewn onto the chair where her uniform was. She took a moment or two to fold them up neatly, knowing the healers would check her room later to make sure things were tidy for her. She never wanted to be a burden to them in any way, so she did whatever she could to ease their work in that regard. So, after folding her night clothes, she made her bed as well, and only then did she finally find herself standing in front of her Nichirin sword again.

She stood there for a while, staring at her sheathed blade, wondering if it truly still held a use in her hands or not. That night, it might as well have been a toy blade made from plastic for children to play with. Never once did she lift it to fight the demons she was here to ward off, and she felt shame for that, as though she had dishonored the blade painstakingly crafted for her hands.  

Regardless of what she felt, it’s here.

It’s here thanks to the demon of the Upper Moons.

Her frown deepened at the thought.

She knew not what the day had in store for her today, though she supposed anything was possible now after what she experienced.

Keeping that in mind, she took her Nichirin blade in cautious, guilt-ridden hands and sheathed it by her waist before stepping out the door to face the day ahead of her.  

Maybe she didn’t care about what happened to her anymore, but she did care about Tatsukawa and its people. Until the reinforcement squad arrived, she was their sole defender. When she wandered into the woods, she thought she donned the title in the form of a distracting sacrifice given on a silver platter to the demons within, but her sacrificial plan didn’t turn out how she expected. As a result, she was inadvertently given another chance at life. Where the breath in her lungs would lead her now, she didn’t know, but now that she’s lived to see another day, she would gift her remaining tomorrows to the villagers. If the need came to be, she would draw her dishonored blade once more in the people’s defense regardless of her inadequacies.

For Tatsukawa Village, she was ready to give her very last breath.

~¤ ¤ ¤~

The scent of tea was strong in the village head’s home.

Seated upon one of the gray zabutons in his living room, _______ awaited Namba’s audience. As soon as she arrived, he had offered to make her a pot of tea to welcome her with. She tried to politely decline as she hadn’t woken up in the best of moods nor the healthiest of appetites, but he insisted nonetheless. By the time she was seated, he was already walking down the halls of his home to brew the drink for the two of them, and by then, she couldn’t reject his hospitable offer.

It smelled like it was almost done. Its sweet aroma wove itself throughout Namba’s home soothingly, bringing images of sunny yet rainy days to mind. If things had been different, she would’ve liked the idea of enjoying a hot cup of matcha green tea seated on the porch of one of Tatsukawa’s charming homes while watching the rain drizzle and the sun break through the clouds. It sounded and felt so peaceful, when she thought about it, but days like that felt out of reach to her now.

The last time she spent a day like that was when Keisuke and Botan were still alive, watching over Tastukawa Village with her.

She remembered, after successful nights of them defending the village from the attackers in the woods, some of the villagers would show their gratitude to them in the form of humble gifts primarily consisting of food. One afternoon, the three of them were invited for a cup of tea by Namba and his wife, Junko. She glanced towards the back of the room at the large double doors she knew led to the resident’s backyard porch, and in that moment, she almost felt as if she had been transported back in time.

The scent of matcha was strong back then too. The three of them were seated next to each other on the porch with their legs dangling off its elevated edge; she sat in the middle, Keisuke to her right and Botan to her left. After they spent a while with the couple talking about the events of recent days over a couple sips of their tea, they encouraged them to sit on the porch of their home so they could feel the sunshine on their skin again. There, they drank their matcha and shared peaceful smiles. Many words weren’t exchanged, but they didn’t need to be. The light of day breaking through the trees the Namba family had planted in their quaint yard mixed with the breeze spoke enough for itself. After a while, she recalled it began to lightly drizzle back then as well. It was a picturesque scene; the perfect way to enjoy a cup of tea, surrounded by people you love and care for.

Now, however, the sliding doors were closed to the world outside and there would only be tea served for one visitor.

Her stare was vacant as her eyes lingered on the sliding doors. Within her, she felt her heart constrict, aching to squeeze, but she refused to allow those cords within her to strum again.

Not here.

Not right now.

Only when she was under the cover of night alone in her room did she ever want to let those shameful cords to strum again.

“The tea is ready, _______-san.”

Namba’s voice called her attention, bringing her gaze to rest upon the towering man which came to join her by his rectangular chabudai table.

Namba was a large, middle-aged samurai who has seen his fair share of battles alongside a blade. His physique was imposing and muscular, notable even through the simple, loose, mute orange yukata he wore today; the result of the training he dedicated much of his life to, no doubt. His skin was tanned to a deep caramel color, whether it was natural or caused by extensive work beneath the sun, she didn’t know. Various scars alluding to stories he had to tell were brandished proudly upon his ruggedly masculine complexion, and he did nothing to hide nor withhold them from public view. His salt-and-pepper hair hung loosely by his shoulders in messy straight strands, and beyond them, he donned an impressive beard he noticeably kept well-maintained. His eyes called for the attention of anyone he met; one was a glistening, warm amber color, edged with honey and gold, while the other, in contrast, was completely hazed over in ghostly white with its lids tattered by merciless scaring.

He was a man whose mere appearance demanded the respect of others, but as a person, he was kind and humble. He treated those around him with just as much respect and consideration as they treated him. After all this time she’s spent with him and his village, it was obvious to her that he, as an honorable samurai, gave his life for Tatsukawa, always at the ready to defend it and its people whenever the need came to be. It was no wonder someone as loyal and strong as him became the village head.

She couldn’t imagine what he must’ve felt when a threat he could do nothing against fell upon his beloved village.

Relying on others was always so…scary.

Scary and hard.

“Thank you so much, Namba-san. You really didn’t have to trouble yourself like this, but I appreciate it. Your tea always tastes lovely.” _______ politely thanked the samurai as he settled the ceramic teapot and accompanying cups down on the chabudai.

“Nonsense. You are not only an honored guest in my home, but to all of Tatsukawa. The work you and your friends put into protecting all of us here is a debt we can never repay. Brewing a decent pot of tea for you is the least I could do in return.” He waved her formalities off in his friendly ways, already beginning to pour the tea in the cups.

“Please forgive Junko, she couldn’t be here to greet you today. She’s out with her mother and father helping them stock up on groceries before nightfall, but she sends her regards.” Namba apologized on behalf of his wife’s absence, receiving a wave of the hand from _______ as she accepted her cup of tea from him.

“That’s alright, no need to apologize. Spending time with family is important…” She paused a moment, glancing into her warm cup of tea before offering Namba a tight smile. “I’m sure I’ll be able to catch up with her next time.”

“Absolutely. Next time, you must join us for a meal. It’s been so long since you last sat down with us for dinner in our home.” He returned a smile to her, but his was genuine and grand, somehow made friendlier from the fuzziness of his beard surrounding his lips.

“Yes, it really has been a long while since we all ate here together…”

She trailed off and took a sip of her tea, hoping the heat of the drink would help keep her in the present rather than drifting into memories again. The tea was still hot and it burned on her tongue, but it wasn’t so much that she couldn’t bear through it. It hurt a little, but it helped in keeping her focused, which is really all she wanted right now.

“Well, that’s something that can be properly planned out very soon, I’m sure.” He remarked, following her lead and taking a steady swig of his tea. “Tatsukawa Village has known peace during these past two nights after what felt like a lifetime of fear. I don’t know what you did when you left to the cedar woods in the middle of the night, but whatever it was, it seemed it bought us some time.”

“Bought some time?” She echoed.

“Yes. Bought some time.” He repeated, carefully swirling his tea in his cup before bringing it to his lips once more. “I don’t believe this lifelong struggle would’ve just ended overnight the way it seems. Of course, I mean no insult to your great work, and offer nothing but my deepest respects to your friends who arrived here with you.”

_______ noticeably grimaced at his words and turned her gaze away from the village head, focusing on her cup of green tea instead.

“What are you trying to say, Namba-san? Please be blatant.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you and I know demons are craftier and more intelligent than people might give them credit for. They were once human, just like you and I, and with their change, they gain abilities far exceeding anything we can ever aspire to have. For a long time, the cedar woods have been plagued by them, more and more having made their refuge there as the years pass. The forest is vast and practically endless, giving them ample places to hide away in for a night or two.” His expression fell to a more serious look, his eyes sharp and keen. “What I’m saying is, I don’t believe they’re all gone. Perhaps some of them are, I know you’ve slain more than we can count and others have run off, but I know for a fact that there are more of them hiding away within the woods waiting for the moment to strike when Tatsukawa is at its most vulnerable – and I have reason to believe these things as well.”

_______ narrowed her eyes and took in a long, quiet breath as she watched herself squeeze the teacup within her hands, her fingers pressing into the ridges of its ceramic.

Once again, guilt was eating away at her insides.

Everywhere she turned, everyone she talked to, everything she tried to do or avoid, it all resulted in the same feelings to flood her over and over again.

She didn’t do a damn thing to help stop the attacks on Tatsukawa the night she wandered into the cedar woods, but she couldn’t bring herself to confess her sins of it to Namba.

If anything, she felt like a traitor to the people of Tatsukawa, considering she had spent the entirety of that night in the arms of a demon of the Upper Moons.

She shook her head at the memory of him, refusing the images of his person to resurface in her mind during a time like this.

He was a sin she knew she could never atone for.

“Regrettably,” She muttered, lifting her gaze from her cup to look at Namba again, her expression unreadable as she set her teacup aside. “I have to agree with you, Namba-san. My experience as a Demon Slayer up to this point has taught me never to let my guard down after a quick and easy victory…” She leaned forward against the chabudai table, her elbows resting on its edge as she keenly met the man’s gaze.

“I don’t believe the battle for Tatsukawa is over quite yet either, but I do have to ask: what reasons do you have to draw to these conclusions as well? You sound like you’re trying to tell me something, and I know you didn’t ask Momoko to call me over just for us to have a simple chat over a few cups of tea.”  

Namba huffed through his nose, a deep rumble resounding from his chest, and he gave a firm nod of his head as he, too, set his cup of tea to the side.

“I won’t beat around the bush.” He began. “The morning you were found by the side of the village, I lead another search party of my own into the cedar woods while you were being cared for by Momoko and the other healers. I’m not sure if you recall, but I escort these parties up to a certain point in the forest during the day when it’s safe to search for any possessions or articles of clothing belonging to the villagers who have fallen prey to the demons. Anything we can find and identify we return to the families of those lost.”

She nodded her head, her brows furrowing.

“Yes, I remember you telling me about that when I first got here. Was your group attacked? Did something happen to one of the people in your search party I’m not aware of?”

Namba shook his head.

“No, that isn’t it.” His tone dropped, serious and low.

“Thank God, we’ve never had any kind of attacks during the day. No, what happened was that we came upon a pile of possessions in the woods that morning. It was just a few yards passed the edges of the forest. We have no doubt that whatever put that pile together where it did, it was a deliberate act, because we’ve never found as many possessions of those departed together like that before. Whenever we did recover possessions, they were always scattered and randomly strewn about the forest floor, found by dedicated searches and immense luck, but these were purposefully piled high on top of each other, as if whatever did it had been collecting them for months. It was set in a way to make it unavoidable and hard to miss. From everything we found, we’ve been able to identify the belongings of over fifty missing villagers. Shuji and a few of the other village guards are returning the items to their rightful homes as we speak.”  

Taken aback by this new discovery, _______ blinked her eyes at the village head as her expression fell more and more into horror.

It didn’t take a Demon Slayer to realize that leaving a pile of belongings of the missing villagers somewhere that could easily be found in the demon-infested forest was nothing short of an act of mockery. It gave off a boastful, pompous air, as if whoever had done it burst out in guffawed laughter at them all through the vindictive, personal attack.

“I see...” She muttered, a deep frown angling her lips.

One look at each other’s eyes and they both knew they drew the same conclusion: one of the demons in the woods was not only getting bolder, but cockier as well.

“I’m afraid that isn’t the end of what I called you here for today.” Namba remarked softly, bringing his hands off of the chabudai. “While we were able to identify most of the belongings we found in the pile as items from Tatsukawa villagers, there were two things that we weren’t able to identify for any of our missing people. The craftmanship doesn’t match the work of any craftsperson in our village either, so I thought I would ask you if you perhaps recognized them.”

Upon explaining himself, _______ watched Namba reach into the right pocket of his yukata to fetch what he spoke of. When his hand came out, fisted around the items, she noticed a pair of oxidized silver chains dangling between his fingers.

Her heart dropped to her stomach as soon as the chains caught her eye, the beat of it becoming overwhelmingly loud with sudden anxiety as she extended her hands out to the village head. Gingerly, he allowed the necklaces to drop within her grasp, their chains gently weaving around her fingers as a pair of cold pendants came to rest upon her palms.

Nervously, she remained in place for a few seconds even as Namba sat himself back upon his zabuton, her hands trembling the slightest bit. He didn’t question her stalled, shaken reaction as he watched her.

No, rather, there was a look of empathy in his eyes as he watched the woman tremble with the honorable jewelry in her open hands.

Slowly, her movements fueled with apprehensive nerves, she brought her trembling hands closer to herself until she allowed them to rest on the very edge of the chabudai. There, she finally willed herself to peer into what was given to her.

Laying upon the loosely tangled silver chains were the plum blossom kamon pendants belonging to the Watanabe family, one adorned by cracked jade and the other by sullied pearl.

Laying coldly and lifelessly within her hands were the kamon pendants of Keisuke and Botan.

As soon as she recognized what they were, her hands balled up into tight fists around the pendants and she abruptly turned her face towards the ceiling away from Namba. Tightly, she closed her eyes and roughly bit the inside of her cheeks. She tried with all her might to keep every single one of the horrid emotions she constantly felt swirling within her where they lay buried beneath the waves, but no matter how hard she tried, heartbroken whimpers tore through her throat viciously. Her eyes watered and tears began to form, but she quickly gritted her teeth and began to aggressively wipe at her eyes with her fists, refusing to allow herself the space to let those stinging drops flow again now that she wasn’t alone.

Her heart felt like it would stop any day now from all the pain it’s been forced to withstand. Every day, it felt like she was issued another blow that painfully tore at her arteries and muscles, gradually slicing her heart into haphazard threads within the confines of her chest. How she was still alive from the constant emotional beatings alone, she had no clue.

At the thought, she pressed Keisuke and Botan’s pendants firmly against her chest right over where her tattered heart continued to laboriously beat, hoping upon hope that the ghost of them would help ease the scarily rapid, anxious thumps it struggled to maintain.

“I truly am sorry, _______-san…Their kamon pendants were the first things we saw, placed on the very top of the pile. I wasn’t quite sure at the time, but I had an inkling they belonged to young Keisuke and Botan; I had to ask you to be certain. I know this is bittersweet, but they’ve found their way to you again. I hope you may find some comfort in that knowledge.”

Her misty eyes snapped open at Namba’s words, sharply scanning all over the ceiling again. Something he said stood out to her, burning her deep with a wretched insult she never once expected to receive towards the deaths of her closest friends.

They were right at the top. They were the very first things Namba and the others saw when they found the pile. There is no doubt whatsoever that the pile itself was made as a mockery to the people of the village, so that means…Keisuke and Botan’s pendants placed on the very top mustn’t have been a coincidence. Does that mean it was…?

She bit so hard into her cheeks as the thought dawned on her that she began to taste blood. Grimacing at the repugnant taste, she reached for her cup of green tea and took a clumsy gulp. It was lukewarm now, but it did well to replace the taste of metal from her tongue. When she placed her cup firmly back down onto the chabudai, it was empty.

“Thank you, Namba-san…” She quietly murmured, her now vacant gaze locking with his once more. “It means a lot to me to have their necklaces with me now…Keisuke and Botan will accompany me in getting to the bottom of this thanks to you, even if they’re not with me physically anymore.” Abruptly, she stood to her feet, her hand falling from her chest to her side but still maintaining an iron grip on the pendants. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to be alone for a while…”

She began to walk away from Namba and the chabudai, knowing her way out of his home, but before she could get far, she felt the man’s large hand take a gently firm hold of her wrist, stopping her in place. Glancing back at the older man, she caught his eyes staring up at her with deep empathy again, the softness in his gaze making her crack the slightest bit.

“Please, sit down, young one. I know you must have a lot to think about right now, but before you go, allow me to tell you a story.”

She sucked in a sharp, painful breath, the memory of Rengoku now hitting her like a flood as well thanks to the way Namba spoke to her, to the way he looked at her.

Though she lingered on her feet for a moment, she conceded to the man’s request and silently walked back to her spot to sit on her zabuton. His hand slipped from her wrist when she moved to join him, a somber smile angling his lips as their eyes met yet again.

“When I was a young man learning the ways of the samurai, I had a friend. His name was Akihiro. Akihiro and I trained beneath the same master, and thanks to that and all the years we spent training under his tutelage, we grew up together. With time, we became not only the best of friends, but the closest of brothers also. When we grew into young adults and our master passed away, we decided to move on from our home village and travel the lands together. It had been a dream of ours from our youth, and by then, it felt like the right choice to make. Akihiro and I…” He chuckled to himself – a warm and heartfelt, grumbly sound. “We built and made many good, fond memories and stories together drifting from town to town and by the flames of the campfires we kindled in between. For many years, it felt as though he and I would see this lifetime through to the end together as brothers in time. However, fate didn’t destine it to be so.”

He took a pause, drinking down the last of the tea in his cup as well before placing it beside the half-empty ceramic teapot. _______ could feel the grief from his person, could hear it interlaced in each and every single one of his words, but not once did his smile fall.

Despite how saddened his smile was, she felt it to be genuine. There was nothing forced nor fake about it. The way his eyes glistened and gleamed gave away to her that, in his mind, he must be replaying his beautiful memories like a performance on stage for the very first time all over again.

“One day, we came upon Tatsukawa. We only planned to pass by; our intention was to spend a week resting and enjoying the quaint life of a small village like this one. Yet, something about its charm drew us in. We didn’t want to leave, and as luck would have it, it also didn’t take long for us to know that Tatsukawa had been in dire need of a couple of guardians of sorts for its people. You see, back then, demons weren’t the ones tormenting the people of Tatsukawa. Rather, they struggled against their own humankind. The village was constantly targeted by wandering bandit rōnin who would cause damage to people’s property and steal whatever they could get their hands on, because there was nobody around strong enough to put a stop to them at the time.

Naturally, a pair of skilled swordsmen like the two of us fit their needs quite well and held up a difficult challenge to the bandit rōnin, so we chose to remain in the village for a while longer as new samurai of Tatsukawa. What began as a week of relaxation turned into many years of life spent in joy within this village’s borders. We grew older with the passing of seasons, I met Junko and got married, and while Akihiro never wed himself, he loved all of the villagers and the villagers all loved him. We were happy, and our brotherhood only continued to grow as the years leisurely carried on.

Several years went by after we settled down here, and one evening, the village was attacked by a notorious group of rōnin Akihiro and I had crossed blades with in the past in Tatsukawa’s defense. They bore a grudge against us from the very first day we defeated them in battle and dishonored them and their blades, and so, they plotted against us to avenge themselves. Akihiro and I fought the men until dawn, and by the time it was all over, I was the last man standing in that battlefield.”

He took a short pause, breathing in and out steadily through his nostrils, though his somber smile remained upon his lips.

His story began to sound eerily similar to her own, and as the words matched with hers more and more, she began to shake her head with trembling lips. She could feel her rapid, anxious heartbeat kickstart once again with vengeance, her breathing picking up, and all she could do to try to control herself was squeeze Keisuke and Botan’s kamon pendants within her fist on the table for comfort, but their cold surfaces only proved to remind her just how similar their story was to Akihiro’s.

“Akihiro gave his all that night to defend what he loved most,” Namba continued despite the evident emotional discomfort on _______’s expression. “And he died protecting what he loved most as well. It was a truly honorable death for a man like him, and I understand that very well now with age, but back then, understanding any of it was impossible for me. That night, I lost my brother for what felt like no particular reason. I became both inconsolable and unapproachable. Within me, bitterness and hatred began to grow and fester both towards myself and the long-dead rōnin we’d slain that day. A part of who I was got torn away from me, and it felt as if an emptiness of the likes I had never known before began to consume me.”

“P-please, stop…” She painstakingly stuttered, a tear or two slipping passed her defenses and down along the sides of her cheeks. Stubbornly still, she wiped them away with her trembling free hand, never once removing her gaze from Namba’s.

“Why are you telling me all of this, Namba-san…? W-what’s the point of making me listen to this story?”

Namba’s gaze softened with care and sympathy, his somber smile growing the smallest bit, tugging at the edges of his bushy beard. Delicately, he reached across the chabudai and placed one of his large hands upon her fist which gripped onto Keisuke and Botan’s pendants.

She shuddered out a breath as the warmth of his hand enveloped her own, the way he comfortingly stroked the top of her palm with such care reminding her evermore of Rengoku. The stubborn, fearful part of her that kept her trapped beneath the waves fought hard to force her to pull her hand away from the gentle giant, but the much smaller, weaker side of her that desperately craved this comfort won the battle today.

No matter how scary and painful this conversation had become, she couldn’t bring herself to pull away now.

“I tell you this story to let you know that I, too, know what it is like to lose your brother-in-arms and what it is like to walk through life with that lingering hefty weight of grief on your shoulders. I know what it feels like to sit through the darkest days and to feel as though you’re the only one who can bear your burdens. I tell you this story to show you that, though the grief of losing Akihiro had killed me in the land of the living for a very long time, I eventually found my happiness again with the help of the people who surrounded me. Even when I buried myself down to the deepest depths I could reach, people like Junko fought to meet me there, and eventually, she and the others pulled me out of that hole right by their sides.”

He gave her hand a tight, reassuring squeeze, widening his smile a little more again as he watched a couple more tears drip from the young woman’s eyes.

“I tell you my story to show you that, although the pain feels blinding and never-ending right now, you will find your happiness and joyful days within your tale again as well.”

With that, he released her hand and sat straight upon his zabuton once more, his hands coming to rest upon his laps.

“I won’t push you further than that. I know the pain you feel right now is suffocating and confusing, but I want you to know that I am here for you. I understand what you’re going through, and should you ever wish to have another talk, I will always be here. Our titles completely set aside, I view you as one of our own, so I will always welcome and treat you as such – Junko and I both. You know how much she has come to care for you; she would do anything to help lighten the load on your shoulders too, but only when you’re ready to let us in.”

Silently, _______ wept in her seat, her head lowering between her shoulders away from Namba’s gaze. She bit her quivering lower lip as best as she could, but it did little to help the tremors. From there, she watched with wide eyes as several of her tears dripped and fell upon the top of her palms, soaking her skin in lonesome resentment. Inside of her heart and mind, there were violent storms brewing in the middle of her distant seas, painful and tormenting, but…there was something about the pain which came with Namba’s story that felt almost…safe. To know that the two of them shared such similar, tragic stories helped to make her feel a little less alone in the boundless ocean she was adrift in.

Still, she wasn’t quite ready to try to swim towards him.

It was a territory she was far too afraid to explore right now.

Knowing he was there waiting for her, however, was definitely a comforting thought to have nonetheless.

Sniffling shakily, she wiped her face dry as best as she could with her free hand before standing to her feet once again. Lifting her teary gaze to meet with his, she met Namba’s patient eyes and deeply bowed for him in respect.

“Thank you…for everything, Namba-san…”

His eyes turned to gentle crescents, and he met her formal display with a strong, loving hand placed upon her head, ruffling her locks of (hair color) much the same way Rengoku used to.

“It’s nothing, young one. It’s nothing at all.”

~¤ ¤ ¤~

After _______ left the village head’s home, she wandered on her own to the edge of the cedar woods.

The massive cedars excitedly swished and swayed upon her arrival, almost giving the impression that they had missed her presence ever since she was last within their home. She, however, hesitated to enter their domain. She thought about it and stood in front of the forest’s edge for a long time just staring into the vast wilderness within, but she ultimately chose to remain where she was and took a seat on the very dirt path she was on.

Her mind was stormy, filled with a million different thoughts she had no idea how to sift through as she stared at Keisuke and Botan’s plum blossom pendants in her hands.

Namba’s words stuck to her and kept repeating in her mind from the moment she stepped through his door. In place of the vacant, guilty emptiness she felt upon waking up this morning, she now felt a strange stirring mix of both immense grief and another strong, intense emotion she couldn’t quite put her finger on just yet.

When she first got out of bed today, she didn’t know where life would be taking her next. In her mind, she should’ve died two nights ago – but she’s still here, and once again, she’s found her way back to the cedar woods despite everything which transpired within. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with this breath in her lungs nor the heart caged within her which continued to thump and beat, but when she gazed upon the Watanbe family crests, something within her told her Keisuke and Botan would be happy to see her still standing – Keisuke, Botan and Rengoku.   

Her frown deepened at the thought, watching as her thumb traced the petals of the plum blossom on one of the boys’ pendants over and over within her palm.

Leaving this world isn’t easy. Passing away leaves so many loose ends left undone behind, it throws everyone involved into their own lost spirals with no real way of finding proper closure. She thought giving herself up to the demons in the woods would be the easy way out, that it would be the right thing to do, but admittedly, she hadn’t taken the chance to properly think over what would happen after her death when she had planned everything out. She tried to think a couple of steps ahead, but it wasn’t nearly enough to tie up all the loose ends she still had left to fix.

If she had died that night, what would become of Keisuke and Botan’s stories? Of the stories the three of them shared with Rengoku? Nobody would be able to tell the tales of their trio the way she could, so their stories would be lost to time.

What would become of Keisuke and Botan’s mother and father? They were their only children, and she was also aware that they came to look upon her as a daughter as well thanks to all the time she spent with their sons.

Did she really have it within her to force them to swallow the death of another one of their children like that?

What about all of her other friends in the Corps? Or all the friends she’s made in Tatsukawa Village? Would everyone come to feel the same way she did right now if Akaza had actually killed her that night? What would become of Tatsukawa Village itself? Reinforcements were yet to arrive, and it’s become gravely obvious that the battle for the lives of Tatsukawa wasn’t over yet.

If she died that night, would their blood stain her hands crimson as she was buried underneath the dirt?

What honor was there to be had in a death as selfish as that?

“None.” She murmured to herself, never once removing her gaze from the pendants in her hands. “That would’ve been a coward’s death…Could I…really allow things to end that way…?”

Before she could answer her own question, a familiar crowing caught her attention from above, the sound forcefully pulling her gaze away from the necklaces in her hands. Staring up towards the sky, through overarching branches of cedar, she could see her Kasugai Crow circling in on her, the flapping of its wings loud and rambunctious.

“Caw! _______! _______!”

Terumi crowed as she came to land by her side on the dirt path. There, she began to hop from side to side in front of her, turning her head over and over to always keep one of her never-blinking eyes on her at all times.  

“Your reinforcements request was received by headquarters, but there are currently no squads nor Hashiras available to take this mission! Caw! Caw! You are asked to remain in your post and protect the village as long as you can! Reinforcements will be sent the moment a squad or Hashira becomes available with Kakushi accompanying to bring you back to the Butterfly Mansion for rest and recovery! Caw!”

Her lips parted in surprise at the message relayed to her, but she promptly closed her mouth with a soft sigh.

She supposed it made sense. After Rengoku died and Tengen retired atop of all the lower ranked Slayers they had lost in recent events, there was a huge hole and deficit in the Corps. They were in desperate need of more people to aid in their fight, but they were yet to find proper solutions or form new teams experienced enough to take on high-ranked missions like that of Tatsukawa’s so quickly.

She glanced back down at Keisuke and Botan’s pendants, furrowing her brow as she considered her feelings towards this development.

Could she really bring herself to leave Tatsukawa Village in the hands of another squad or Hashira after everything she experienced here? Could she live on knowing she gave up like that? What of Keisuke and Botan’s pendants and the way they were so blatantly displayed in a pile of mockery and insult along with the belongings of so many other missing victims? Could she continue to breathe knowing she let go of the chance to track down the demon responsible so as to rid the Earth of its malicious existence?

Could she live on knowing she gave up on something Keisuke and Botan gave their lives fighting for?

All at once, a massive wave of determination crashed into her chest, mixing with the whitecaps and surfs of pain and regret she had become so used to.

She couldn’t.

She absolutely couldn’t.

She couldn’t live nor die giving up like that.

Her brothers-in-arms left Tatsukawa Village within her hands to protect and defend. They gave their lives to protect her own, dying with the belief that she would be victorious on behalf of their legendary trio. To live on or die without earning that victory and bringing Keisuke and Botan back home to their parents would be an insult to the legacy they fought so hard to leave behind.

“Terumi.”

She called her crow’s name, her determined gaze returning pointedly upon her companion who mirrored the look.

“Tell headquarters I have things under control in the village. I will continue to fight and protect Tatsukawa no matter what it takes, so there’s nothing to worry about. I will be their defender and continue to fight even when reinforcements are made available. Tell them I’m not going anywhere until Tatsukawa is free.”

Resolute with the new course she was charting in her new life, she chose to cement her decision by taking Keisuke and Botan’s necklaces and clasping them both around her neck. They weighed down encouragingly on her chest, giving her the limitless strength and support of the Watanabe brothers she loved so dearly.

Stirred by her choice, she stood to her feet the moment Terumi took to the skies with her message, watching as her crow flew further and further away until she was completely out of sight. Still, _______ stood there, watching the endless blue skies as her hand came to hold the plum blossom pendants close to her beating heart.

One way or another, all three of them would finish the mission they started.

Together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for making it this far! I hope you've been enjoying the series so far! <3 Thanks for your support by reading and engaging with my posts and chapters! If you'd like to read further ahead, feel free to check out any of my cross-posts links that are a couple chapters ahead! <3 Much love and hugs! God bless! <3

[kawaiikenna]

Chapter 3 of Under the Earth; Far from Home! Take a look on ao3 too. Leave a kudos and drop a comment if you’d like. ☺️💜💜

Jazz was freaking out. Absolutely, one hundred and ten percent freaking out. You’d never be able to tell from the outside though. On the outside she appeared calm and collected, mostly. As long as you didn’t stare or squint you wouldn’t notice the red puffiness and heavy dark circles cleverly hidden under her makeup. Or the slight oiliness that her hair had from just a few days too long from the last shower she had. Or even the way her bottom lip would quiver ever so slightly whenever someone so much as mentioned Danny, her baby brother.

The baby brother that she had failed. The baby brother that was missing now for almost two weeks. Two weeks. There had been no leads. Nothing to go off of. No note, no weird conversations, there hadn’t been anyone, or anything, new or sketchy in town. Nothing. Vlad had been quiet. Very few ghostly visitors from the Zone. It was strange and worrying.

Statistics say that the first 48 hours are the most important in a missing persons case. After that time limit, the person’s chance of being found alive would diminish rapidly. By the end of the first week they start thinking about looking for a body and not a person.

Jazz didn’t want to think about finding only Danny’s body. She knew that he would technically keep living as Phantom, he just wouldn’t necessarily be the little brother she’s known all her life. And that was one of the more terrifying thoughts. That if he was dead then he should have come to find her by now. Which meant he was alive somewhere. Even if she didn’t know where.

There was a soft knock on her door. Jazz glances up from the useless stack of papers spread in front of her. It’s Tucker. He looks mildly nervous with his laptop clutched in one arm and a black bag over the other shoulder. Sam stood silently behind the dark skinned boy.

“Sam, Tucker,” Jazz internally cringed at how rough her voice sounded. “what’s up?”

Tucker stepped further into her room. He silently set his laptop down on her feet and opened it. “I was finally able to crack where your parents were during that weekend before Danny disappeared.”

Jazz felt her breath hitch and get stuck in her throat. Her eyes widened as she stared at the screen now displaying a map. She had to remind herself to breathe. And even when she started breathing again, they came quick and shallow.

“From what I could get from the local cell towers as well as tracking the specific kind of ‘signal’ the GAV gives off; they took this route.” He traced his finger over the outlined map. “And ended up somewhere here in New Jersey. I lost the signal when they crossed the state border. I can probably track them further, that way we’ll know what city they went to. But it’ll take me a few more days.”

Jazz stares up at one of two of Danny’s best friends. She can see just how haggard he is. So she stands and pulls him into an almost bone crushing hug. It was then that Sam finally stepped in. Jazz lets go of Tucker and looks to Sam.

“I know we don’t know what city they took him to but I’ve been calling around to see if anyone had reported the GAV. I haven’t found anything. That points to your mom having driven instead of your dad.” The goth says. “There’s a charity gala being held in Gotham next week. I’ll be going and taking Tuck with me. Hopefully we’ll be able to get more information there. Otherwise I have a couple relatives that live in different cities. If we don’t find anything out at the gala I’ll call around to see if they’ve heard anything.”

Jazz had tried really hard to not breakdown. It mostly worked, but after that, hot tears fell down her face. The two teens hugged her. Jazz could tell that Tucker was silently crying too from the way his shoulders shook. Sam on the other hand just looked drained. As if she had cried all of her tears and had none left. Jazz pulled both of them into a tight hug.

This was progress. No matter how small, it was a step to finding Danny, her baby brother, and hopefully bringing him back home.

~~~

“His name is Daniel ‘Danny’ James Fenton. Just turned 17 last month. Reported missing in Amity Park, Illinois by his parents Jack and Madeline Fenton a week and a half ago. From what I could find, his parents haven’t put any other effort into finding him. Whereas his older sister, Jasmine, and his two close friends, Samantha Manson and Tucker Foley, have been doing a lot of groundwork. It appears that Jasmine didn’t know her younger brother was missing until she came home from college for the long weekend.” Tim sipped on his seventh cup of coffee.

Jason’s insides roiled and tied themselves into even more knots than before. He could have found Daniel sooner, if he had just investigated the feeling in person rather than sending someone else.

“So how the hell did he get buried alive in Gotham? That’s five states away and far too much effort for a simple kidnapping.” Jason snapped, being away from the kid was making him anxious enough. Everything they had learned was just making things worse.

“It’s actually a federal crime as soon as they took him across state lines. Which is going to make adoption pretty difficult.” Tim side eyes Jason.

Jay just rolled his eyes. As if. He doesn’t do too well at taking care of himself. Why the hell would he want to throw a kid into the mix?

“So are there any clues on how he got here in the first place? Let alone be buried alive here in Gotham?”

“Nope. It was like he had disappeared into thin air. No clothing was taken, no note to explain where he was going, his phone was left on the charger in his room. The only coincidence is that his parents were out of town when Danny went missing. They didn’t report him missing until the day after they came home.”

“So then we investigate the parents.” Bruce entered the Cave. “From what we learned about his home life before, it wasn’t the best. Something could have happened to make them do something. Whatever it may be.”

And then Jason felt it. The peace and content the kid, Danny, had been putting out came to a sudden, grinding stop. Silence followed for half a second before intense waves of fear filled the room. It hit Jay so hard he physically hunched over. In the next few seconds he went from hunching over in almost physical pain to sprinting to the kid’s infirmary room.

He could hear various shouts from his family but the kid was more important. He was putting out the same kind of fear when Jason had pulled him out of the casket the night before. When he got to the room he found Dr. Tompkins speaking in low tones with her hands up to show that she wasn’t a threat. He glanced at the corner to find Danny curled up protectively. Once blue eyes now glowing toxic green and wide with fear.

Fear, fear, afraid, doctor, hospital, no, no, NO!

Jason grunted under the emotional impact.

Safe, friend, safe.

There was an immediate change in atmosphere. The teen’s eyes snapped over to lock gazes with him.

Fear, friend, help, dislike, hate, no!

A chirp rang through the room. It sounded like a frozen lake cracking, an ethereal sound that was saturated in fear and distress.

Unknowingly to him, an audible rumble sounded from his chest in an attempt to calm the teen.

Safe, safe, safe.

“I haven’t got a clue as to what the hell is going on, but if you can calm him down some I’ll be back.” Dr. Tompkins excused herself.

Jason moved further into the room as the doctor left. Danny uncurled slightly at his approach. Jason knelt a short distance away from the teen. A chirping trill came from the boy.

Safe?

Jason nodded. The toxic green glow of the distressed teen’s eyes died down a bit. Danny warily stares at Jason.

Safe, safe, where?

“Gotham.” Jason barely whispers. His chest rumbles again with the feeling of safety, now accompanied by a new feeling of home.

A spike of panic comes from the teen. Jason tenses again as Danny curled into himself and let out a keening, high pitched almost-whine. Now shaking and quivering like a leaf in a storm. Pulling into himself even more than before.

Lost, home, gone, lost, home, haunt.

Jason reaches out a hand to hesitantly rest it on one of his shaking shoulders. Instead of pulling away, Danny nearly flung himself into Jason’s arms. He gripped strongly to the older man with all of the strength he could muster. Quiet sobbing filled the room as well as the purring chirps Jason was producing, anything to help the kid calm down. Jason scooped up the teen to rest him in his lap and scooted to sit against the wall for some support. Danny curled protectively in Jason’s embrace.

Jason gently rubbed the sobbing teen’s back. Crooning softly and sending out waves of safety and calm. And just like when he had initially pulled the teen out of the coffin, once he had calmed down he fell asleep, one hand still gripping Jason’s shirt while the other was tucked between his own chest and the vigilante’s. The gentle purring vibrations in their chests gave Jay a content feeling. He fell asleep not long after. Protectively embracing the hurt and broken teen.

~~~

“So what’s the damage?” Bruce nearly demanded as soon as Dr. Tompkins stepped out of the infirmary room door.

She gave him a flat stare. “In all honesty he should be dead. A human cannot go longer than two to eight weeks without food. Water on the other hand is a much shorter period of time, with only three to five days without it inflicting serious damage and even death. If you’re right and he was trapped down there without food or water, he would have been pushing the envelope with food. That long without water should have killed him.” She looks back into the room she had just left. Jason seems to have been able to calm the boy down some. “From what I could gather before the boy woke up was that he’s not entirely human. He’s not a meta either.”

“Then what is he?” Bruce asks, staring at the boys sitting huddled against the wall. The painfully thin teen being gently cradled in his second eldest’s arms.

“Hell if I know. Whatever he is, it’s made it so that he mostly recovered from Severe Acute Malnutrition in the time he was unconscious. After only two IV bags and a few nutrient packs he reached an almost fully stable level. He still has a long way to go on the road to recovery, but he’s gotten out of the woods much quicker than any normal human could or should have.” She glances through the door to see the two boys sleeping. Dr. Tompkins sighs heavily and quietly shuts the door. “Looks like I won’t be able to ask any questions tonight. Call me as soon as they wake up. Specifically Danny. If he’s hungry when he wakes, have Alfred prepare him something. I’ve left him with a strict meal plan for Danny.” She walks down the hallway towards the elevator. Bruce follows her. “Even though he’s recovered extremely well, his body is still coming back from nearly starving to death. So it will take time and patience. Encourage many small meals and snacks throughout the day, and night, depending on how well he sleeps. Same for liquids. Though right now he’ll be on a strictly liquid diet until I can figure out how exactly his body is doing with the recovery.”

“Thank you Leslie.” Bruce says softly. “I can’t express how much this means to us, to Jason.”

“Uh huh. This is my job. At least this time I’m not stitching together bits and pieces. Severe Acute Malnutrition isn’t pretty, but the treatment is fairly easy and straightforward. This is nothing compared to other things I’ve seen and had to treat.” She steps into the elevator. She turns back to Bruce, putting a hand out to stop the elevator doors from closing. “Let me know as soon as he wakes up. I may not be a psychologist but that boy has been through hell and back. I can guarantee he’s seen some serious shit. Do not, under any circumstances, let anyone other than Jason, myself, and Alfred go into his room. If what happened earlier was anything to go by, he won’t be too welcoming to strangers. Hopefully it’s something that will go away with proper care and socializing, but there’s no guarantee.”

Bruce nods. “Of course. I’ll make sure the other children are aware of the situation and that they act accordingly.”

With a satisfied nod, Leslie let the elevator doors close and take her upstairs. Bruce makes his way back over to where a few of his children were still gathered around the batcomputer.

“So I guess we won’t be meeting our new nephew anytime soon?” Dick asks, a tiny amount of disappointment hides in his voice.

Bruce shakes his head. “No. He more than likely has PTSD. It would be better to leave him be until he becomes more mentally stable.”

“So sad. I think we can wait a few days before barraging Danny with questions and attention.” Tim says with a smirk.

His eyes are still glued to the computer screen. Articles of Danny and a purple backed gorilla have been pulled up. On another screen there were articles of ‘ghost’ attacks wracking the tiny town of Amity Park. Pictures and articles of three other people were also displayed. Jasmine Fenton, Samantha Manson, and Tucker Foley. Danny’s older sister and two best friends. This seems like it will take a while to pin any solid evidence down. So Tim sighs and settles in to get as much as he could done; eighth cup of coffee sitting next to him.

[nymika-arts]

3 11 13

3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

the idea comes to me as little bits of scenes that i write down in my notes app, sometimes i'll make an outline if the fic will be long enough, i keep writing scenes in my notes app until there's too much to keep track of, i transfer it to a document where i continue to write everything in a completely random order as it comes to me, and eventually there's enough to stitch together into something cohesive

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

favourite of my own? or others? let's do both:

favourite ones that i've written (and posted) are i'll be yours forever (till forever falls apart), i'd pick your thunder, i'd pick your rain, and i tear myself down (to be built back up again)

favourites that i've read in the last little while are never felt this way before (yes i swear) by @rewritetheending, something dangerous (like I love you) by @renecdote, and listen to you breathing (is where I wanna be) by @theladyyavilee

13. What’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

sometimes you just need to say the thing. it's so easy to get caught up trying to make every line something poetic and meaningful, or something that sounds beautiful, but sometimes the thing just needs to be said plainly so you can move forward.

get to know your fic writer