#bluewindfall writes stuff

[bluewindfall]

fried rice

“Are you almost done?” Rin asks, perhaps for the tenth time this particular morning. 

Yukio takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes. A warm breeze wafts in from the window with the faint sweetness of cherry blossoms. Somehow, the bitter scent of herbs and wooden furniture in the pharmaceutics office remains the same as when their father used it. It always makes him think of the monastery.

“I want to eat lunch.” Rin’s chair squeaks when he leans it back on the hind legs. “Come on. You said you’d be done if I helped with the quiz, right? Let’s take a break.” 

“Yeah, but I need to adjust a few of your questions,” Yukio says. “You did a good job.”

Rin tilts his chair forward. “It’s because I’m a real exorcist now.”  

A smile tugs at Yukio’s lips. “That’s true, but some of your multiple choice options are just unrealistic. Call Mephisto? I’ve only ever left Sir Pheles voice mails.” 

“You’re going to make them harder?” Rin heaves out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s good enough. What do you want for lunch?”

Before Yukio can answer, Rin’s chair tips backward.

“Whoa!” Rin grabs onto a shelf, knocks it over and crashes to the floor. “Ow,” he huffs. “That really hurt.” 

“Nii-san…” Yukio grimaces when a plume of dust rises. He should clean the tops of the shelves better. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” 

“Be careful. Just sit in your chair properly next time.” Yukio helps him up and grabs one of the textbooks, pausing when a paper slips out.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Rin says with a bright grin. “Oh. What’s that?”  

The sheet of paper has been folded in half twice. Someone penned a neat set of demon pharmaceutics practice questions on one side and a recipe on the other side. The same handwriting covers both sides. 

“It doesn’t look like Tou-san’s penmanship.” Yukio tilts his head to peer over Rin’s shoulder. “Does it look familiar to you?”  

“Wait.” Rin lifts his head so abruptly that he nearly hits Yukio’s chin. “Uh, never mind. I can’t really tell.” 

Click here to read more on AO3 :)

This is the fic I wrote for @aoexcuizine which was such an awesome project to be part of!! *O *

[thefoulbeast]

Writers tag game!

A big thank you to @saathiray for the tag! This looks like a really interesting one to do!! :D :D

Alright, let's get into it...

How many works do you have on ao3?

21!

What's your total ao3 word count?

ough.... maths..... if i wrote the numbers down right, then 187 780 words! :D

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

To no one's surprise, most of there are blue exorcist fics haha :,D

1. Clickflight. (71) 2. Ad terram nullium. (61) 3. Oh, my worst emotions. (60) 4. Human(oid?) (59) 5. aranea et flamma (42)

Do you respond to comments; why or why not?

I do! Well, almost every time (but the comment has to rub me the wrong way / confuse quite hard to make me not respond). I don't really know why? It just feels polite maybe shdusdh

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I'm not sure any of my fics have particularly angsty endings 🤔 They're mostly ambiguous or menacing in some way hahah... Perhaps Ad terram nullium or Oh, my worst emotions are the angstiest ones. Cor Aegrotum is also a good contender because it definitely ends on a bitter note. :D :D ahh idk lmao

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

Another difficult question. Not sure. Speak fondly upon that memory is probably the most feel-good fic I have so I reckon it has the happiest ending 😂

Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written?

I don't think I've ever written a crossover, no. The closest is a current wip that's like characters from one thing in the setting of another thing? But I didn't keep any characters from the thing I got the setting from, not sure if it counts as a crossover lmao.

Hope this made sense <3

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No, I have not, thank goodness! Perhaps quite lucky, since I know one of my faves isn't too well liked in the fandom lol. But it's a small fandom, and the character isn't very popular so ¯\(´･ω･`)/¯

Also, I'm not exactly a well known/popular author so. I can just do whatever I want most of the time lmao

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have written smut, various kinds of it. >//-//>

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of. Hopefully not :D

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, I haven't ^w^ I've considered trying my hand at translating fics on occasion though, I like translating stuff well enough. Not that anyone needs fics translated into latvian much 😂

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! But I think I'd like to try someday maybe, because two authors and friends I look up to a lot (jay & rynoa if u read this ily) collaborate on a lot of fics and they always come out so cool and good and solid and i think that's so neat that creatives can come together like that?? like wow!! truly amazing and beautiful to witness <3

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Genuinely don't know!

I've come back to a specific collection of Tarn/Deathsaurus (from the transformers more than meets the eye comic) fics a whole bunch so I guess that's as close as it gets!

I... have a hard time remembering stuff I like outside of the periods I am obsessed with it, you see. Currently I'm reading a lot of star wars fics so there's a lot of kylux and some gingerpilot?

it's really hard to say, im not sure i have an all-time favourite , more just a bunch of faves i come back to from time to time

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

A fic I started about Tarn from transformers getting some kind of head injury and having to re-learn how to speak? I really like the concept of it because his voice is how he kills and all that, but I just don't know what direction it could go in anymore. It's more of a thing I can ponder about privately rather than something I want to bring to a finish and publish, if that makes sense?

Other than that one, I have a whole bunch of fics I started in fandoms I dipped my hands into but never found friends and stuff off who to bounce my ideas so the motivation kind of died. One of those was a thing for Gotham's Penguin - I was going to do like a life story in vignettes but I recognise now I won't finish it :D

What are your writing strengths?

I sort of? Idk how to put this in a way that doesn't sound too self-aggrandizing, but once I get into a character's head, I get into a character's head. Multiple people have praised my characterizations, one even going as far as to say that the voices sound like the canon and that's something I hold really dearly in my heart and which makes me feel v warm inside. ;3; <3 <3 <3

What are your writing weaknesses?

World building and having more than 2 people in a fic 😭 I focus so much on the character I'm writing about that sometimes it's hard to think about everything that happens around them, or to make the other characters have enough depth! All my fics are like... sticking to a single person, deep pov style. I would like to get out of my comfort zone more and try and write fics that focus on more than one character!

What are your thougts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

There's a time and place for everything! Usually I just hope that there's translations in the end notes 😂😂 But it can definitely help in making the reader feel as helpless and confused as the character who doesn't speak the language :D

What was the first fandom you wrote fic for?

Ib, the rpg game, I think? At least that's the first one I wrote fic for on the computer, I think I might have written something like yugioh fanfic in a notepad in sixth grade 🤔🤔 afraid i've lost both, though

What's your favourite fic that you've written?

ahh... difficult question...

I think it's sort of a tie between Somnus and Even a worm will turn? They're both about Toudou and I like them for different reasons. Somnus just came out so beautiful and poetic, I think, a lot of meaning packed into just under 1k words, whereas Even a worm will turn is like a beast full of negative emotions and violence and all the dark stuff and the way the soul blackens as it goes down the slippery slope between what one feels they have to do and what is right that i managed to get out in a weirdly cathartic way... It's really hard to decide on this question hahah...

-------------------------

As for tagging my fellow writers and friends: @shiroufujimoto @29rynoah @tonguetiedraven @kugisaki-nobara-rights @yuriotoko @inuyoshie @bluewindfall @emperorsvornskr

[evanescentdawn]

derpy writing habits —

thanks @willowsrain for the tag!

I write almost only on my phone, because it feels comfortable and it gets the words flowing. and uh. on the tumblr app. yes, I know it’s very risky but idk it really makes me write and it’s just a bad habit I developed. every time I do it, it’s like. oh god, please don’t let this delete. before I plunge myself into hell. sometimes I get myself into false safe and then be absolutely guttered when things get deleted when it was completely my fault. although I did say that I write on my phone mainly, there are sometimes where I physically fell like I CAN NOT write on my phone and have to get my laptop. it’s weird. and go both ways, like sometimes I’ll will be I can not do this on my phone, get out my laptop, and then get to a point where I will be like I physically write this on my laptop and then have to go get my phone. idk what the stuff it is, but I also kind of do know. it’s just hard to describe into words.

when I have this wip I really want to finish or exist, but I know it’s gonna take a while to finish. I’ll go and make a draft on AO3 to see how it’ll look. or create a “fake” AO3 page on tumblr drafts and it’ll feel so damn nice and satisfying because it feels like I’ve partly got there. towards the then. and also makes my motivation spike up. whenever I saw a wip, I am always imaging the end. when I mean the end I don’t mean the end of the wip but me finishing it, posting it. how it would flourish. it puts some pressure on me and it’s always so frustrating and disappointing when I don’t close that gap, when I don’t get near to that “finished daydream” where I posted that fic. sometimes I do and it’s so damn satisfying when I do.

when I reread some of my wips and see the obvious mistakes/edits that I could change and I could literally do them, but no. I do not. instead, I “think” of fixing them. I “think” of writing and expanding on it. like in my mind, some of my wips are already finished. or, longer than what it is. it’s so annoying. like the many times i [shakes myself] and tell myself to DO IT but I don’t. I keep daydreaming up the edits and continue writing, but in the doc, the wip sits untouched. and I open it, and see that in disappointment and imagine it again: me, next day, actually picking it up and damn well writing. I do not. ITS FUCKING CRAZY. and drives me a lil mad. because it’s a continuous cycle that doesn’t change, except on the rare times that it does and IM ON THE MOON those days.

tagging (if you want): @aeruthien @thefoulbeast @29rynoah @shiroufujimoto @tonguetiedraven @lyrebirds-writes @rosekasa @bluewindfall @thelegendofwinchester

[thebeingofeverything]

When you get this, you must publicly post something nice about at least 5 different people you follow, then copy and paste this in each of their ask boxes 💖💖💖

Thank you @bluewindfall for the tag in this (and so sorry it took me forever to get around to it, rl has been 7 kinds of hectic hell lately but this was such a good ask to do ^.^;)

@athgalla

I remember I first saw your fanart on the big aoex server and was in awe of it! Then you were always so nice any time we interacted and the encouragement on my own art gave me that little shot of serotonin for the day :D Also, I still die every time I see the fanart you did for Incandescence and BRS. It was my first I’d ever gotten for a fic and I think I might have cried a little when I saw it.

@bluewindfall

I think when I read your fic it felt like the skies parted and revealed some kinda holy grail of phenomenal writing, the exact conflicted dynamic between Yukio and Rin I’ve been dying to see from the fandom, and that bittersweet angst I live for in fic. You’re always so encouraging and actively engaging in the fandom. You really make it feel like a cozy, close-knit place (like a hug personified) and I’m glad you’re a part of it. 

@johannfaust-v

What’s it been, 2 years now? I tried to go back over the tumblr messages to find the start and my computer almost died XD Brainstorming fic content, head canonning, complaining about writer’s block, if only we weren’t separated by multiple states we’d be cool writer friends, hanging out at coffee shops and cackling about our novels. Somehow, I gained a rl friend through fanfic and that’s still blowing my mind.

@philosophicalparadox

I remember I first read your fic Unbecoming and was like, well, I’m just gonna have to enjoy what’s there bc this beautiful thing is probably abandoned like all the other aoex stuff on ffnet T.T and then you updated! Granted, another extra fun fic, but getting that email in my inbox was like proof of life, and getting to actually interact with you on tumblr was even better! I love swapping asks and seeing your headcanons for aoex, they’re always a joy to read.

@realdwalton

I think you were the first person who brainstormed/headcanoned with me through my fics. Your reviews were always the highlight of my day when they came in and helped flesh out so many ideas/characterizations, nevermind just being so much fun to go back and forth on. One of these days you’ll be able to work on your own stories and then I’ll get the chance to scream in my reviews at them to return the favor ;D

[greenjudy]

the writing

Tagged by @twocatstailoring. Thank you, my friend.

your name: greenjudy. Not, you know, my real name, but online I will answer to Judy, no problem.

fandoms you write for: Final Fantasy VII in its various permutations, with an emphasis on the Turks; Original Sin; Dragon Age. (I have some notes for a Guardian fic but it’s pretty far back in the queue right now. I may also end up writing something for Good Omens; I get that feeling of inevitability when I contemplate the series.)  

where you post: A03. 

most popular one-shot: Remember Pearl Harbor; Purl Harder by at least an order of magnitude. Avengers knitfic. People seem to like this one. 

most popular multi-chapter story: Answer Man. This is pretty much the only really long-form piece I’ve finished, so far. 

favorite story you’ve written: Difficult. Probably “Answer Man,” because it was so hard to write. I often plug Escapement when asked this question. Also have a soft spot for Plan B. 

story you were nervous to post: Xiao Hong. This tackles some sensitive subject matter and is full of personal names and place names drawn from Chinese and Southeast Asian history. Also, military camps and the occupation of an invaded country. Look, there are so many ways this fic may have gone wrong, okay? Drop me a line if you end up reading it and want to yell at me about it and have some pointers for me.

how do you choose titles: with difficulty. Every so often a title emerges from my forehead fully-grown and wearing armor (explaining the headache)--usually chapter names or other, less important titles. Big, meaningful titles are hard.

do you outline: For short pieces, one-shots, no. For anything long-form, fucking yes I do. I write in Scrivener which allows me to capture every stupid scrap of a ghost of an idea and find it again later. I don’t outline every emotional beat in a piece, because those often arrive in the writing. But I learned the hard way from “Answer Man” that you kind of need to know who your murderer is. 

how many of your stories are complete: 25 out of 27 on AO3 are complete, yo.

how many of your stories are in progress: 2 of them; see below.  

coming soon: (well, soon-ish): Chapter 6 of New Junon; Chapter 5 of Body Work.

do you accept prompts: You wanna send me something you’d like to see me write? I can’t guarantee I’ll tackle it, but I’d be interested to see it. 

upcoming story you’re most excited to write: “Coherent Light” (Original Sin; chilu). I’m a criminal who likes to post chapters of WIPs as I write them, without understanding where they’re going or how they’ll end. I’m trying to be better with this one. I won’t post until I have a good 1/2 dozen chapters of it and a Big Arc. See you then.

PS: If you’re curious about Original Sin--if you like Hong Kong crime cinema,  rainy streets, urban noir, characters in uneasy relationships to the mob; if you like mutual pining, coworkers with chemistry who can’t get together for Reasons, all that stuff... drop me a line, I’ll introduce you. 

Tagging @renothe, @yinzhengs, @willowcatkinblossom, @bluewindfall, @clevermanka, @filigranka, @themossstomper, @razziecat, @wandererriha, @foxghost, @aftepes - and anyone else who would like to respond. 

[bluewindfall]

deposition

Blue-tinted raindrops splatter against the window as he zips up his bag. Condensation climbed up the opposite side of the glass overnight, freezing into lacy strands of frost.

He pulls his coat over one shoulder, fumbling with the sling. Earlier, he could still see a crescent of the moon. He hadn’t thought it would rain, yet the sky has been blotted out by deep violet clouds. 

Someone knocks on the door to his hospital room, sliding it open. 

“Good morning. It’ll take a couple of hours to discharge you, just so you know.” 

“Oh. Thank you.” Yukio glances at his phone. He cleaned up most of his belongings last night since he was told he might be released today. Although Sir Pheles is his legal guardian, Yukio can’t imagine him coming to help. Calling the monastery this early in the morning would be bothersome, especially since he hadn’t told them he was injured on the mission to Aomori. 

The other option is to call Rin, but he’s already struggling in his classes. Pulling him away for something like this would be unreasonable. 

“Will your father be coming to pick you up?”

Yukio’s hands pause over the buttons of his coat. He swallows, lifting his head.

“Will your father come pick you up?” the woman typing at the computer repeats. 

“No,” Yukio finally manages to say. His hands clench in the heavy fabric of his winter coat as he tries to breathe through the familiar tightness in his chest. “No. I’m sorry. He won’t be. I’ll be fine on my own.”

The woman frowns. Yukio missed her name and role when she introduced herself yesterday. Inconveniently enough, her long, dark hair has covered the badge clipped to her scrubs.

“He signed your forms last night, but we haven’t been able to reach him since this morning.”

Yukio looks down at the form. Johann Faust V. The name is printed in dark ink. Of course. She must have assumed.

Rain strikes the window with a harsh cadence like hail. Outside, the sky has grown darker, laden with heavy storm clouds. It’ll be difficult to carry his belongings and an umbrella back to his dorm on his own. 

“I’ll be fine on my own,” Yukio says with a smile. “Thank you for trying to reach out to him.”

The woman nods and moves on with the remaining discharge paperwork. She must be busy, glancing at her watch repeatedly as Yukio reads and fills forms.

Yukio grips the cheap ballpoint pen carefully and signs his name beside the curled, elegant signature Sir Pheles penned as his legal guardian. Of course, he didn’t tell anyone at home he was injured. Rin has class at this time. It’d be too much of a hassle to bother any of them. 

No one will come pick him up, but he can manage on his own.

A low roll of thunder swells in the distance. He has a feeling this rain will continue for the rest of the day.

By the time he leaves the hospital, first period is over. He still needs to change, so he heads to the old male dormitory. At this point, he’s already missed several classes. Making up the work will take up time he doesn’t have. He needs to hurry before he misses all of second period too.

This broken arm is wearing on him, but it’s manageable. As he sets the bulging folder of discharge instructions aside, his phone vibrates.

This is the monastery’s number. Did Sir Pheles tell them he was being discharged? That seems unlikely. He grabs his bag, holding his phone with his shoulder as he reaches for the door. “Hello?”

“Yukio,” Nagatomo begins, somber and weary. “You should come home tonight.”

Fear climbs up Yukio’s throat. The window rattles with low tremors as a furious gust of rain splatters on the glass. Lightning cracks across the dark sky stained deep blue and grey. 

Months ago, Nagatomo called him as well, in this manner. His voice was harsher then, scarred by the touch of fire. 

Yukio. Come home as soon as you can. It’s Father Fujimoto. He’s—

Yukio clenches his jaw. “What happened?”

“Misumi-san passed away this morning.” Nagatomo draws a pained breath in and sighs. “It… was acute heart failure. With his age,” he whispers, “it couldn’t be helped.”

Misumi?

Yukio’s bag slips slowly from his grasp, slumping with a dull thump to the floor. He shuts his eyes, lowering his head. How long had it been since he spoke with Misumi? He hasn’t been home since starting school.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Thank you for telling me.”

For a breath, neither of them speaks.

“The funeral,” Nagatomo says, “the funeral is tonight.” 

Yukio nods. “Then we’ll come back. I can let Nii-san know.”

Nagatomo hesitates. “No, I can call Rin. You shouldn’t have to…”

“It’s fine. I’ll see him during lunch.” He can barely recognize his own voice, pale with gentleness and asymmetric calm. “I’m sure he’d rather know sooner than later, and he won’t have his phone in class.”

“Yukio, if you’d rather take the day off…”

Yukio reaches down to pick up his bag. “I’ll be fine. Please don’t worry about me. I’m sure this is far more difficult for you and everyone else,” he says. “Please take good care of yourself, Nagatomo-san.”

Nagatomo sighs. “Of course. Thanks, Yukio,” he says with a tremulous breath, “for always being so reliable. You take care as well. Look out for Rin.”

The call ends abruptly.

Yukio adjusts the sling on his arm, swallowing as he takes a deep breath in and back out. As he gathers his composure, pattering rain taps the window with an impatient rhythm. 

He’ll tell Rin at lunch. It won’t be as difficult for him as it is for Nagatomo. 

He raises his umbrella and steps out into the rain. His thoughts are slow and blunt at the corners, submerged beneath still depths. If he goes back to the monastery tonight, he won’t have as much time to catch up on work. It can’t be helped, but he’s already behind. 

Yukio. Come home as soon as you can.

Home?

His breath fogs in short, scattered puffs as he stops across a bridge toward the academy. 

When his eyes throb, he rests his elbows on the rough stone ledge and takes a deep breath. Bits of moss and lichen cling in the thin cracks. He grits his teeth and shuts his eyes, waiting for the warm ache to subside. 

Wind trails through his uniform sweater, rippling across the tall bridge with a whispered promise of snow. 

What use is there in going home at this point? The one he misses is already gone. 

To read more on AO3 (:

[bluewindfall]

Contract

Flickers of his breath graze Yukio’s ear, soft as wisps of flame over kindling. 

He knows Shima can’t have fully grasped what this message means. No. Of course, he hasn’t. Shima may have been tasked to pass this secret along, but he wouldn’t say it in this way if he knew more. 

Regardless, it’s too late. The idea is irrevocable, swaying just beyond the corners of Yukio’s vision. He’s already enthralled by it, so much that there’s no decision to be made. 

“Now I’ve told you, so do what you want with it.” Shima raises a finger to his lips and winks as he walks away. 

“Which side are you on?” It’s a futile question, yet he’s asked it twice now. He doesn’t even know what answer he cares for. 

Shima laughs. “Who knows?” When he turns back, the mirth in his voice doesn’t reflect in his eyes. “Which side are you on?” 

Those words fall from his tongue one by one like scattering dice. As he leaves, their echo swells in the empty hallway, spoken as if they were particularly clever. 

Yukio’s lip curls when he catches sight of his own silhouette in the tall row of windows beside him. He’s cold and sheer. Do his motives appear as simple to see through?

“Of course,” he says, “you of all people wouldn’t be fooled so easily.” 

Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Shima won’t be enough to stop him, and it’s clear he has no intentions to do so in the first place. 

The soft hum of warm air vents switches on when he steps near the windows. It’s never completely silent here. Blinking specks of red lights line the ship’s massive steel wings. In spite of the darkness, no stars are visible. All he can see are layered clouds in the distance. 

This fortress is undeniably impressive from a technological perspective. It’s clear it was designed with both comfort and safety in mind. He hadn’t expected that after seeing their lab in Shimane. 

Yukio turns away and strides down the hallway with measured, even steps. 

He’s been given a weapon. All that’s left is to weigh how best to use it. 

To keep reading on AO3 :)

[bluewindfall]

convention center

Flecks of rain shift in the wind as he stands still. He sets his fingertips on the cool surface of the grave, lost to the sudden memory that surfaces in his thoughts.

“Why are you raising us, Tou-san?” 

The rain of that day was louder than this, hitting the unyielding ground and muddling the air in waves of fog. This memory is old. Some of the details must be wrong by now, and other parts are too vivid to be real.

“Why are you raising us, Tou-san?” His wet hands clench as he steps closer. “Why does Sir Pheles allow our existence?”

“I won’t lie to you,” Father warns, “but I can’t talk right now.” His brow is furrowed, and all Yukio can see in his eyes is what is missing— acknowledgement, approval, or perhaps even trust. 

“Not now?” Yukio demands. “Then, you’ll tell me someday?”

Bits of gravel and dark mud grind under Father’s heel as he turns away. “You’ll know one day.” 

The pelting rain around them is deafening. When he breathes in, the hollow space in his chest fills with cold air. He backs up a step, gritting his teeth as he runs the opposite direction. 

“Wait, Yukio! Yukio!” 

Anger and stinging fear mix with the rain gliding down his face as he sprints through the crowded street.  

He doesn’t know what to do. The white threads of too many secrets have tangled and covered his eyes. What will become of Rin? Why did Father tell Shura to look after him, as though he wouldn’t be able to soon? Why does he tell Yukio things like, when I’m no longer here—

“You’ll know one day,” Yukio says as a quivering sigh slips past his lips. “Yet you never intended to tell me. You left behind so many things that I will never understand.” 

He’s known the reason for a long time. Despite that, this memory aches. 

To keep reading on AO3 :) (this excerpt is from chapter 5)

[bluewindfall]

fruit store

He finishes his mission early in the afternoon. It’s only one thirty. When he crosses the street, he can feel the heat of the car engines lined up at the intersection.

Rin sent him a photo of spicy noodles from a Chinese restaurant that Konekomaru and Ryuuji bought him for lunch. Everyone keeps bringing him food. At least, he appears to be doing reasonably well. 

Rin has been reading the notes Father wrote on another investigation that could be related to Ishikawa’s case. The question is, how does that relate to the distortion? Why is Mephisto so adamant that he focuses on Ishikawa’s case at this time?

A taxi honks when it turns. As Yukio waits at the intersection, he receives a call. It’s from Shura. 

“Shura-san?” 

“Hey. I’m having lunch at headquarters. There’s some punk sitting out here in the front. You’re free, aren’t you?”

Yukio steps under the awning of a convenience store. The air conditioning is pleasantly cold, ruffling his hair when the automatic doors open. “Not necessarily.” He grabs a basket, looking over a pile of discount items. 

“Well, he said something about a missing person, but they kicked him out because he kept swearing.” Someone else’s voice filters through, not quite clear enough for him to decipher. “He’s been here all morning.” 

Yukio holds his phone with his shoulder as he sets three bottles of green tea into his basket. There are several guards in the confinement tower where Rin is being held. Since he’s been visiting often, it’s better to bring something. “Why can’t you talk to him?” 

“Huh? Delinquents love you. Also, you’re just a junior inspector. I outrank you.” 

Yukio’s eyelid twitches. “I’m not good with delinquents.” He doesn’t manage to smile as politely as he’d like when the cashier bags his tea and sodas. 

“That’s too bad. I’m busy chasing the airport demon. It’s a huge pain.” 

“Really?” Yukio shifts his phone to his other shoulder as he leaves the convenience store. “I thought its leg was injured.” 

“Yeah, but it’s still fast. We don’t know what it wants, so we’re just chasing it around the city.” 

“That sounds unfortunate.”

“So, anyway, go talk to that delinquent. Mina at the front desk said he shouted something about the airport. He probably doesn’t know anything, but you might as well go scare some respect into him.” 

Yukio sighs when she hangs up. 

The streets are full of people near the shopping center. He picks up his pace as he heads down a set of stairs beneath a flowering wisteria tree. Its pale blossoms have scattered along the cracks in the cement, fluttering when he passes by. 

Only a day has passed. A demon that strong shouldn’t be capable of leaving this town once it’s inside. True Cross had its wards checked only a month ago. There should be no weak points. 

The question is, how did it enter undetected in the first place? 

To keep reading on AO3 (: (this is chapter 3)

[bluewindfall]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Okumura Rin & Okumura Yukio Characters: Okumura Yukio, Okumura Rin Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Mystery, Aged-Up Character(s), major spoilers for chapter 139 and 140 of the manga, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, descriptions of blood and violence, Time Travel, Character Death, Murder, Slice of Life, sort of a case fic, with angst, Fluff, hand wavy space time whatever, food and other love languages, and a hopeful ending Summary:

A cold case Shiro once investigated is assigned to Rin nearly twenty years later. The toll of missing exorcists is rising, yet it’s a case ridden with corruption and unspoken secrets.

An unidentified, high-level demon appears at the airport— wielding a sword Yukio knows.

He sinks to one knee, leaning close enough for a few strands of his bangs to graze Yukio’s forehead. There is no warmth in his eyes, yet the lack of it is haunting. 

 “Two years is a long time. A lot can change.”

[bluewindfall]

shallow creek

Rain trickles down the alley walls in small waterfalls, winding around Rin’s ankles as he catches his breath. This alley is grimy and smells like a sewer. Bits of paper and hair are floating in the water. It’s gross. “What are you doing? I thought you had a mission this morning.” 

Renzou shrugs. “Come on. This is way more fun.” He swipes and powers his phone off. Wait, that’s Rin’s phone. When did he get his hands on that? “I’m helping you disappear for a little while.” 

Rin snatches his wrist. “No. Sorry, but I’m going to do this properly. I need to.” 

Renzou’s eyes are shaded by his hood, reflecting the grey, shifting light from the rainy streets as he smiles. “You really don’t know what this is about yet, do you?” 

“So what if I don’t?” Rin clenches a fist around his sword. “If he’s made mistakes, I won’t hide them. I need to do this the right way.” A shard of glass crunches under his heel as he walks past Renzou. “Thanks, really, but this is important to me.” 

“What if I told you that your way won’t work?” 

Rin turns back. A cold drop of rain rolls down his cheek. “You don’t know that.” 

“Sure, but this isn’t just any secret. Even knowing it puts you in danger.” Renzou slips his hands into his pockets. The white glare of a nearby vending machine casts half of his face in stark shadows. “I think you know what I’m talking about.”

A strike of lighting and thunder swallows what he says next, but Rin sees the shape of the words even if he doesn’t hear.

To keep reading on AO3 (: this is from chapter 6)

[bluewindfall]

public library

“Hey. Rin. Get up!” 

Rin bats the hand ruffling his hair aside as he burrows into his pillow. 

“Rin! Hey. Come on, they’re letting you out. It’s already ten in the morning.” 

Rin squints his eyes open. “What?” 

Shura is standing over him, holding a clipboard in one hand. “Last night, we saw the airport demon use flames. That means you didn’t lose control. Somehow, it can use Satan’s flames too.” She crosses her arms as she looks over his pile of snacks. “Then, there’s no point in keeping you locked up here anymore.” 

“Oh.” Rin yawns, blinking as Kuro crawls over his stomach to greet Shura. “What happened, then? Is the Legion still looking for it?” 

“Yeah.” Shura tosses him a trash bag and a yakisoba bun. “We’re doing twelve-hour shifts. I have to head back soon.” She pats Kuro on the head twice and walks off. “Clean this up and get back to work. I saw Yukio come in this morning, but he’s sick or something. He told me to buy you food.” 

Rin sits straight up just as the door shuts. “What?” 

He crams all of his things into the trash bag, signs a bunch of forms, and jogs over to headquarters. One of the new inspectors, Takeda, briefs him on what was done yesterday on a case tracking a phantom taxi. Rin really doesn’t remember anything about that. 

“What about that case with Ishikawa Fumi?” Rin asks as they head upstairs. 

Takeda flips a few pages on her clipboard. “I’m not sure. I believe it’s been assigned to someone else.” 

“Okay. Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Rin says. “I’ll go check in with my other teams. Thanks for briefing me.” 

Takeda smiles and nods. 

Still, the day goes on, and no one comes to talk to him about Ishikawa’s case. He’s busy trying to supervise two teams cleaning up the airport, the phantom taxi, and something about a mansion infested with coal tars that the owner refuses to get cleaned. 

It kind of sucks. When he was working mostly out of the Vatican, he got to go on cool missions. Being the only Arc Knight based in Japan leaves him with all these supervising tasks. The only good thing about it is that he can stay close to home. 

Rin. Rin? Kuro winds circles around his legs as Rin reads a report. Let’s eat lunch. Isn’t it lunchtime?

“Oh, okay.” Rin smiles, reaching down to pick him up. It’s already past noon. He hadn’t even realized. 

The cafeteria is crowded, so he hunches at his desk as he eats and manages to look into what has been going on with Ishikawa’s case. 

For some reason, the page for exorcists assigned to the case is blank. Maybe they haven’t updated it yet. If nothing changes by the end of today, he’ll check with the admin staff.

The last report says they asked the family a few more questions about who knew they were going to the charity concert. The police have been running background checks and things. None of the traffic cameras in the area showed Ishikawa leaving the hall. 

Also, a lady went missing at the airport, like those victims in the portal case. Somehow, Yukio was the one who ended up interviewing the witness, even though today is his first official day back. Weird.

Rin should probably be doing a better job supervising who is working on the case and when, but he was locked up for a whole day and a half, so it’s been messy.

Still, somehow, that lady who went missing at the airport wasn’t an exorcist. That has to be important. 

Where is Yukio anyway? Rin hasn’t seen or heard from him all day. 

To keep reading on AO3 :) (this is chapter 4)

[bluewindfall]

blue-draped shadows

A bullet slips through his fingers and rolls across a mat with a light thump. The metal’s brass sheen gleams orange in the buzzing light of the lantern hanging above. 

It’s quiet inside this tent. He exhales a cloud of wispy breath and bends down. The bullet has wedged between the crack of two mats laid on the floor to keep out the cold. 

Perhaps he’s been taking much longer than he should to load this magazine. Outside, a howling blizzard has descended on their small campsite. When he stays too still, he can hear the whispering wind unfurl. It’s swift, carrying fire smoke and their cooling breaths to the edge of the world. 

He turns the magazine over to check that he’s filled it with enough rounds before moving on to the next one. The handful of bullets he grabs from the box clink in his palm, pressing into his skin as cold as ice. It’d be more difficult to do this with gloves on, but the cold hasn’t helped his dexterity.

Kuro sets a paw in the box of ammunition, making an affronted noise when Yukio nudges him away. 

Tomorrow, at dawn, the Order will mount its offense. He’s seen the creeping edge of that fortress. Satan, no longer alive or fully dead, still persists as an inevitable calamity of this world. He cannot be reasoned with. 

Yukio’s thumb slips, and he fumbles another bullet onto the floor. 

The tent unzips, letting frigid air inside when Rin shuffles through. “Hey. What are you doing?” he asks, flicking his tail to the side as he watches Yukio. 

Kuro leaps up to scramble onto his shoulders. For a moment, the way they both blink at each other is amusingly similar. 

“I just dropped something.” Yukio kneels to lift the corner of one of the thick, blue foam mats. They remind him of the ones they use at school for physical education. It’s comfortingly mundane, given how far he’s come from home. 

“I’m pretty tired,” Rin says, bending down to zip the tent flap shut. “I thought you’d be asleep already. It’s late.” 

To keep reading on Ao3 :)

[bluewindfall]

Where hope dwells in time

His steps slow to a stop when he catches a glimpse of the inside of the concert hall. 

It’s bright, filled with orange, mellow hues of wood. An organ’s gleaming pipes span the back wall above the stage where rows of musicians have begun to find their seats. The interior is old but elegant. He can hear the resonant cacophony of melodies overlap every time the back door opens. 

The carpet in the front hallway is softer than the one in the back. His dress shoes sink with every step. 

“Hey.” A sharp, pointy elbow prods him in the back. “Stop gaping. You look like a peasant.”

Yukio’s eyelid twitches when Shura saunters past him. “I wasn’t gaping.”

“Sure,” Shura drawls. “Well, just pass out your programs and look pretty.”

Yukio adjusts the sling on his arm before he follows after her. Shura’s footsteps are swift, and her heels leave fading marks in the plush carpet. Flowing, deep crimson folds of her dress curl around her ankles as she begins to climb the marble stairs to the entrance of the concert hall. 

The building’s air is chilled, and it smells rather like a library. He can still see the dregs of summer dusk through the window they pass. 

“I hadn’t realized it looked like this inside,” Yukio admits. “I walked past it nearly every day in middle school.” “Yeah. It survived the attack years ago.” Shura rolls her shoulders into a lazy shrug. “One thing is for sure. The old Order would never have bothered with this sort of thing.” 

“But I’m glad we’re able to help now.” Yukio passes her half of the stack of programs, smiling as an elderly couple heads inside the concert hall to take their seats. 

Shura gives a family of three programs and helps point them toward their seats. Most of the audience is well dressed in a myriad of colors. As the hall fills gradually, the lights are dimmed. 

Just as they’re about to head inside to sit down, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. Rin is calling him. 

“Wait, where are you going? It’s about to start,” Shura hisses. 

“I know. I’ll be back in a minute.” Yukio tucks his remaining stack of programs under his arm as he steps away behind the stairs. “Nii-san? Did you finish your mission?” 

“Yeah. Hey, are you almost done with your charity thing?” Rin asks. His voice is slightly breathless, and the murmur of traffic noises leaks through from his end at erratic moments. “Can you come back?” 

Yukio glances back toward the concert hall full of orange light. His assignment as an usher is complete, but he’d been looking forward to watching the concert. More importantly, it’d be impolite to leave without thanking the donors.

“I need your help,” Rin says, drawing him from his thoughts with abrupt haste.

“With what?” Summer wind ruffles through Yukio’s hair as he nudges the door open with his shoulder. “Where are you?”

 “I just have to look for… I don’t know,” Rin mumbles. “I’m at your place.” 

“Do you need it right—”

He frowns as Rin hangs up. Just what is he in such a rush about to find at Yukio’s apartment of all places? It’s been nearly two months since he’s been back in Tokyo. 

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[bluewindfall]

parabola

Yukio flips a page in his textbook, listening to the soft scratches of Shiemi’s pencil across paper. 

The mid-afternoon sun flows over the interior of the shop like a layer of swaying silk, warming the wood of the table. It’s quiet, with only the flourishing houseplants in their company. The room smells fragrant, filled with the scent of a jasmine plant blooming on the counter. 

He’s fortunate enough to have two hours of spare time today, working through a worksheet of derivatives to the side as he answers occasional questions from Shiemi. Perhaps it’s a welcome distraction. 

Small tremors run through the table as Shiemi erases a row of equations. 

Yukio lifts his eyes cautiously. 

The delicate red tassel on Shiemi’s hair clip sways when she tilts her head. Her lips have pressed together in concentration, pulling into a puzzled frown as her pencil traces along the curve of the parabola Yukio penned in her notes. When she flips back to another page, a pleased smile lifts her cheeks. A minute later, she moves diligently onto the next problem. 

She’s been working hard and has grown so much in the past few months. All she needs is a bit more confidence in herself.

As Shiemi rests her chin on her hand, a few strands of her hair slip from behind her ear. Several red spots of petechiae peek out from under her collar, like pinpricks, left behind from the grip of Mayuko’s hair. They’ll fade in a few days. Even so, it must have been painful.

Yukio flips another page, running his thumb along the waxy texture of the paper of his textbook without reading any of the print. “Yesterday,” he begins, “I was really impressed by you and Kamiki-san.” 

Shiemi’s eyes meet his, just a shade brighter than the mellow green of the aloe sitting behind her. “Really?” 

To read more on Ao3 :)

[bluewindfall]

hotpot

By the time he finishes his mission the snow has piled up, spiraling down from the sky in light, clumped flurries. True Cross Academy is silent at this hour, and its countless windows harbor a warm, golden sheen.

His breath fogs as he stops in the street for a moment. 

It’s only been a couple of days since they returned, yet those few weeks they spent in the Arctic feel so far away now. He misses that closeness lately. 

The lights in their dorm are still on. Yukio shuffles inside, scuffing snow off his boots when he sees a familiar assortment of shoes at the entrance. 

“Hey, you’re back!” Rin beams, rushing down the stairs. “Come on, we’ve been waiting for you. We’re having a last-minute hotpot study party.” 

Yukio lifts an eyebrow in amusement. “Shouldn’t you party after passing?” 

“Yeah?” Rin laughs, elbowing him in the ribs as he opens the door. “We’ll just party after too.”  

Shima and Suguro are running through a set of flashcards while Kamiki and Miwa have huddled around the kotatsu to set up the hotpot stove. 

“Welcome back,” Suguro greets. “Was it cold outside?”

“Just a little,” Yukio replies as he hangs his coat up. 

“Sit down, sit down.” Shima grabs him a cushion. “Sensei, it’s the night before the exam. You have to know something, right?” 

“It’s two nights before the exam,” Kamiki huffs. 

“Close enough,” Shima insists. 

“You can ask, but I won’t tell you,” Yukio manages to reply, and by then Rin has already sat down next to Shima, patting the space beside him urgently. Miwa hands him a bowl, Kamiki passes him chopsticks, and the little gas stove flares to life with delicate, blue-tinted flames. 

It’s warm, and he feels swept back to the time they spent together huddled in tents and around campfires to ward off the cold. 

“It’s been pretty busy, right?” Suguro asks. “I’m surprised they managed to put the whole exam together so soon.”

Yukio nods. “Most of the preparations were completed before the holiday. All that was left was finding a different venue.”

“What happens if someone fails?” Kamiki prompts, glancing at Shima. “Is it for life?” 

Shima shoots her a wounded look. “Why’d you look at me when…” 

He grimaces when she snatches the piece of meat he was reaching for.

“I’m pretty sure if Kinzou-san could pass,” Miwa says, busy setting a bowl out for Kuro, “you could too, Shima-san.”

Shima sniffs. “I don’t know why, but that doesn’t sound like a compliment, Koneko-san.” 

Yukio pushes his glasses up. “You can take the exam up to seven times. After that, they suggest you consider a different career.” 

“So, you can fail six times,” Rin tells Shima, very seriously. 

“No way, Okumura-kun, even you—”

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This is the fic I wrote for the @byakkozine last year! It was awesome to be part of a zine for the first time, and I really loved seeing it completed!! *O *