#definitely don't think I'm posting any of the darker chapters here just in case

[monachopsis-pluviophile]

I mainlined Broadchurch in about a week and I'm going a little bit insane about the (what I now remember to be) infamous pub invite 😭

I remember you tagging that you ship Miller/Hardy, and I'm a few years late to the party, but I was wondering if you have any fic recs?

Oh my gosh, a new Miller/Hardy fan!! Yes, I definitely have some recs!

Not Much (But All I Would Ask For) by J (jayright) is a really adorable 1 chapter fic about Miller and Hardy after he comes to live in Broadchurch again, I love the way they're written here, both very wary but very desperate for comfort.

Stranger Than Friction. by cereal takes place post season 1, and is probably one of my favorite depictions of a very normal way into a relationship, if that makes sense. The way you kind of don't know it's happening until you absolutely know, which I think was handled really brilliantly.

And then these next two have more actual plot outside of the relationship, which I both think were handled really well, but definitely have some darker themes as they are dealing with cases.

Hurt by aactionjohnny Hardy in particular in this fic is just such a deeply awkward man, it's so true to his sheer un-comfortability throughout the show. And there's this line I love from it that really sums up their relationship in the fic, 'He’s sober as a judge, and she’s still magnificent. Goddammit.'

Loneliness (in F Flat Minor) by TreacleA This one is a real true to a series of Broadchurch, with a whole case that they must solve as they work around their changing relationship, it really could have just been in the show, the case in the fic is just as compelling as the relationship, it's a great read!

There's so many other good ones, but these are definitely the ones that came to me off the top of my head, I hope you enjoy them!

[dashawfrostart]

This... Month? In "Time & Again" #20: Die Herausforderungen des Schreibens 📚 - und mehr

Here, I thought I'm finally coming back with some truly awesome news quite shortly - but alas, it turns out it's been roughly a month. Sounds like the frequency of my overly giant posts is rigorously dropping... But I intend to let it simply flow, following its own pace, so I write whenever. I have probably already mentioned that writing doesn't always go buttery smooth for me (and I'm pretty sure I said that somewhere before; it's not just the title of this post signifies that). If the posts do not form in my head - then I simply don't write, and I don't force the process either. The spark is very, very important when creating.

But enough of digression, let's get straight to the business! First things first!!! And the news is truly fab!!!

Chapters 1, 2 and 3.1. of "Time & Again" now exist in the physical world!!! 🥳🥂

This is so cool, I cannot contain myself!!! 🤪 This is a very odd and somewhat awkward feeling, to hold your own book in your hands. Back in the day, I started working on it as an exclusively digital release - and yet, I designed it (just in case!) as a book almost right away, with the covers, inner artworks, and the proper page count that was suitable for physical printing, if need be, although without the bleed areas.

Well, turned out the "if need be" situation happened in the end. And after all, it's just very nice to have a physical copy of your own work on hand... Well, because I'm an old-school person and I love paper books. Once the entire story is done, I will definitely prepare and order a hardcover copy just for myself. And if the local (and beyond local) readers so desire, I'll print some for them, too. But that is just a potential plan for the future consideration 😁 Right now, the succulently depressing Chapter 6 is waiting for me.

Preparing it for the physical printing was a bit of a struggle - the topic I already mentioned in one of the previous posts. I have spent a month working on all of that, plus refining some little things and adding "Notes, Commentaries & Hints" section to each one of the chapters. Ordering prints, unfortunately, was also a struggle, in an odd way.

But I succeeded. And now I am very happy.

Please note that I also added a QR code that leads to the landing page with all my art links and socials for everybody to explore. That was also yet another one little thing I've worked hard on for a while last month. It even has a link to my Doomworld profile 😁 *a happy smiling and spinning cacodemon smiley should go here*

Now, I am ready for yet another one juicy announcement on today's agenda:

The script for Chapter 6 is finally done!!! Yaaaaaay!!!11!!1!1!!! 🥳🥂

Revisiting the fruits of my labour yesterday, I can say I did good. It made me happy. And that's saying something. Chapter 6 is going to be very, very wordy (thank you Lothar for thinking non-stop). 19 pages with approximately 12500 words sure will make a big impression on some readers, I'm certain... However, a large part of that whooping page number is actually commentary only. But there's still a little more reading than in any average previous chapter. Now, off it goes directly to my editor-in-chef for the proofread. Which means that incredibly soon I will finally be able to start working on the page templates for the actual release. Excited. Chapter 6 is going to be highly experimental and daring. ... and unbearably dark, too. Darker than Chapter 5.

Returning back to our aforementioned topic of the writings, as well as the ultimate torments and tortures of the process, I must share something that you might find interesting to clarify the situation - or at least entertaining to some extent. Yet again: writing does not always go smooth for me. In the previous post I have shared my fears and concerns in regard to Chapter 6 in general, particularly the writing. Well, here's the full story for a disclosure: back in the day, approximately around the time I created Lothar (and shortly Jeanny), sometime in 2015, I attempted to write a large novel about the catpeople named Freia and Fjolvarr. That story has never been finished, and the problem with it happened to be, as I ponder now, the lack of self-organization of the author. Meaning, I could write separate notes for the story in multiple notebooks, because a lot of different ideas and thoughts would swirl in my imagination, so, like fools, I would try to save them all. Which was a good tactic - and I still think it is!.. The real problem, however, emerges from the depths of creative process later on, when it's time to stitch everything together into a logical and consecutive narration. I ended up with a lot of parts that were very difficult to tie together. Usually, when I used to write my text-only stories, I went with the flow and let the logic of the characters' conversations circulate naturally - and in most cases, it yielded great result. But with the things written split in parts right from the start, finding the right chain link to link them all together into a naturally flowing conversation was... a nightmare to say the least. Perhaps I was not persistent enough, or maybe the amount of work was a little too much, for that story was supposed to be, well, at least 200 pages in total (I approximate), therefore there as a lot of unrefined material to work with. As for "Time & Again", I definitely didn't want it to die in a swamp of creation that went awry. "Time & Again" bears ENORMOUS importance to me. I could not simply let it disappear into nothingness, because that would've been easily the most disappointing thing in my life. By the time I sat down to get to finishing up and polishing the script in July, there were indeed parts of the dialogues and Lothar's delirious monologues that required connection links. I cannot really say that I dreaded working on it. But I had fear that it might end up being as unfinished as the aforementioned catpeople story. This time I was aware of the weaknesses and failings of my previous, almost 10-year-old outdated approach. So I was ready to embrace a potentially tremendous amount of works that was waiting for me.

And I did really good this time!

Have I ever told you that narratology interest me very much? Narratology classes were something I've never taken. The same with psycholinguistics and the its lesser known, more targeted subdivision called ethnopsycholinguistics. And now I feel like I have missed out on INCREDIBLY MUCH. For a language nerd such as myself, it's shameful. But nothing's impossible (am I, like, in the mood for Depeche Mode quotes today or what?..), and there are lots of books available on the above mentioned topics, so I am not sad one bit. I love sciences 🤓 And I am always up for self-education (basically almost everything I've learnt very willingly was thanks to self-education alone).

I thought I wanted to mention some other fun topic, but I no longer remember what it was. That's alright; chances are by the time I decide to return to make another post, it will shape itself a tad better anyway. So I'll save my currently improperly shaped thought for later.

See you soon! 👋 I really gotta pick up the slack and start posting more frequently 😅

[frozen-fountain]

1 ,5, 10, 17 for the fanfic asks!

What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Anything I put on the internet before 2020 is verboten here; I did make up Tomb Raider stories when I was about nine, though, based on whichever period of world history I was into at the time.

5. What is the perfect environment for you to write in?

I usually write at my kitchen table; tea-making facilities are within easy reach, there's an array of boxes for the boy to chill in. Ideally it's still light outside, the room is moderately temperatured, and it's quiet, though living under a family of six usually means I have to create my own ambiance with low-key music and atmospheric sound.

Back when I had little netbook, I took it into the middle of the woods once and banged out an entire chapter of an original project amongst the humus and occasional bold deer. I need a way to facilitate doing something like that again.

10. Do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most?

Surely good writing does all of that at once? But if I had to single out one, I'll choose dialogue (and inner monologue in conjunction). It's not the aspect of the craft that comes to me most naturally, but the gap between what's said and what gives lie to it is endlessly fascinating to play with. I think it's maybe the best vehicle for letting a reader become involved in constructing the story for themselves, and it's also super satisfying to feel you're getting a character's speaking voice just right.

17. What fic are you most proud of?

This is hard! Obviously I'm proud of all of them to some degree, or they wouldn't be shared. But I'll single out You Grow the Flowers Yourself, which to date is the closest I feel a completed story has ever matched the crystalline image in my head, though it's also the recent project that challenged me the least (additionally: I don't draw on numbers to determine a story's success, but I'm kind of proud that I managed to rake in fifty kudos on a piece about Elmyra Gainsborough).

Into the Night Uncharted has segments I'm not happy with and that will probably become the case for more of it as time goes on, but it also has a high number of my favourite passages I've ever written, and I'm proud of how hard I push myself with that one and how much I managed to exorcise from haunting my own head by getting it down.

I'm proud of Aperture Priority for giving a moment in the spotlight to a character (Barret) who I adore so much but who I feel gets frequently neglected by both the fandom and the post-OG source material. I think I did a good job of honouring the spirit of his arc by not providing didactic answers to any associated moral dilemmas, and there's some layered and overlapping metaphors in there that I came out really pleased with. I also got to utilise a trope/technique I'm particularly fond of (arguing with one's id through an imagined conversation with a dead loved one), and I like to think I did it well.

Lastly, my fic Penitent was a huge step out of my usual niche and a pretty out-there idea already, so I can't not mention it here. I really enjoyed writing it and definitely want to do more in that significantly darker vein in the future. I intended its final lines to be a last twist of the knife, but some readers found it reassuring or hopeful - and rather than feeling like I failed, or chickened out, I really like that the piece allowed for that ambiguity to exist.

[shewhowillnotbenamed1]

There were too many places this could have gone, but I wanted Raven and Damian and a broken bed, and this how it turned out. I hope it’s alright!

Prompt List

----------

"So... can you fix it or not?"

He shuffled his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose and stared down at the broken bed frame. But even through the lenses, it wasn't quite clear. Again, there were questions, too many questions - and not one of them good. "So, can you?" Raven asked, re-centering his focus upon the task at hand. Damian knelt low, assessing the extent of the damage. It wasn't just a loose screw or two, the whole frame, it had collapsed in on itself.

The way it looked. If the bed alone looked this way, he could only imagine.

No.

There had to be a reason, some sort of explanation.

Damian stroked the broken bit of bed post and gripped, springing up what little life it was clinging to. The wood let out an awful squeak and a groan, before surrendering in anguish, falling to the floor. His electric-emerald eyes flickered over to the sorceress whose expressionless stare gave nothing away. Though, her tone hadn't exactly been forthcoming. And so the questions hadn't ceased, they had become sentient and started to multiply. Taking up roots, they grew until even his questions had questions.

One edged itself to the forefront of his mind and Damian wondered if he could even pose it to Raven: was this real - was she for real? To come to him like this in the middle of the night, in need of his help with her bed - her broken bed. He rose slowly, and approached her with his jaw tight and steps measured.

What had she been doing in this bed to cause it to break?

Whatever...

Or

Whomever...

Damian pulled off the black framed glasses, and hastily folded them over his waistband, shoving them away along with his darker thoughts. How was he expected to proceed in such a case? What exactly was the due process here? Did the Titans handbook have a chapter about this, or even so much as a footnote? Damian began to formulate what he believed was a rudimentary follow-up. "How did this...even happen?"

It sounded safe, rational.

Surely, it was a reasonable thing to consider given the current situation.

Violet eyes glanced over the wreckage. There was a sprinkling of sawdust on the mattress laying jilted off to the side, the box spring was reduced to a heap of wooden boards, and the thick carved posts were snapped, propped uselessly against the corner of the room. Her cavernous eyes bored into the center of his bare chest, before at last, settling on his face. "Damian, I don't want to talk about it. I just... I need your help, okay?" Her voice wavered for a note. "So, if you can't give me that -"

"No - no. Of course, I want to help," Damian said immediately, standing taller. "I just...want to know what I'm dealing with here, so I can help you best." He motioned with his hand, hoping she would elaborate, or give any clue as to what had happened. And when she didn't speak, he spun up plausible theories.

But, nothing.

Raven didn't bite.

"Was it...your powers? Was it a lack of structural support? Maybe it was foul play - some prank of Garfield's gone wrong? Maybe the wood is old?"

Damian threw out suggestion after suggestion - and nothing. Any indication, even a simple nod, would have sufficed, anything would have been better than him filling in the blanks on his own.

"Or was it...?"

Anything to stop him from wondering about was just below the surface, the subtext: could it have been sexual?

Was it sexual?

He wanted to know. He needed to know. He had to know. She was his best friend. For all that was good in the world - he deserved an answer.

"Was it what?"

"Overuse?" Damian tried. "Or I don't know...misuse?"

"What exactly are you asking?" The mage returned a little less flatly, a little more angrily. "I'm the one with the broken bed and nowhere to sleep tonight. I knew you would be up... and so I came to you. I just needed some help - your help." Raven was resolute as she had been earlier, when she was standing at his door. But now, she seemed determined to answer as little as possible, to even redirect his inquiries back towards him.

What was she hiding from him?

Why was she hiding from him?

Damian glowered down at her. "I am trying to help -"

"So, help." Raven stood on her toes to glare back at him unblinkingly for what felt like hours. And anyone other than Damian would have backed down by now. "But, if you're going to make assumptions or continue to interrogate me, I'll just sleep on the couch."

This was going nowhere.

He sighed, a long drawn out exhale, he needed to breathe, to stay calm. But he could feel himself getting more and frustrated for each second this tennis match persisted. "Why don't you tell me what happened - from your perspective," Damian added quickly.

Raven was right to refer to it as an interrogation, a part of Damian had to give that to her.

This did feel rather like a deposition.

"It was late, I finished meditating, I thought I would try to get some sleep. I was laying in bed, and it broke." She rubbed her arm, trying to look impassive or unaffected and Damian didn't know what, only he couldn't believe this. It was the exact same story - if anything this was less than she had told him before.

His heartbeat pounded deafeningly in his eardrums, and his blood started to sear dangerously under his skin and Damian wanted to demand a sufficient answer from her.

But that wasn't the solution.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in more slowly. What bothered him the most wasn't the denial, it was Raven acting as though she couldn't trust him.

And if she couldn't trust him, he had far bigger problems.

"Just so I can understand you - so I'm not confused, tell me, how did it break?"

"You saw for yourself - it collapsed."

He shook his head, he just needed her to give him something. Maybe he was just desperate for an opening for the questions he was barely biting back on his tongue.

How was she laying? Was she on her back? Was she alone?

Was she clothed?

"Why?" He burst out. "Why did it break? There's always an explanation. Things don't just collapse."

"Well, my bed did."

Damian had crossed over the bridge of irritation into incredulousness. He was dumbfounded. "I didn't think you even needed one - a bed." He scoffed. "I was under the impression that you...floated above it."

"Where on Earth did you hear that?" Raven's purple eyes narrowed. "I don't float - I'm not a pixie." Damian's lips twitched. So said the petite girl from another land, named after a bird, who spent her days flying around in a leotard.

"Fine, you hover." Damian eyed her, practically insisting. "You definitely hover."

She could project manifestations of wings whenever she appeared. That and the obvious, she glowed.

So if it looked like a duck...

"Yes. I've been known to hover - on occasion - it's not a regular thing." A faint flush began to color her face cerise, much to Damian's satisfaction. "Is my interrogation over, then?" He noticed her expression was slightly less annoyed than before, but more anxious.

Maybe he had been going about this all wrong. What if it was about something else entirely?

He glanced at the little worry crease that indented itself above her left eyebrow. In the idle daydream, he fantasized about touching it, even kissing the muscle until it relaxed. Of course he cared, she didn't even know how much. Damian’s features softened slightly. "Raven, I'm...concerned about you. It's not everyday your best friend shows you her mysteriously broken bed. So, is everything okay? Are you stressed?"

"No, Damian." But Raven had deflated, looking somewhat defeated. "This, it's not at all what you think..."

"Alright, I won't press this anymore." He reached down and touched her shoulder. "Get your pillow and some blankets," Damian ordered. "You're not staying on the couch." The hero stood by Raven's door while she dissected the contents of the rubble. They waited wordlessly for the tell-tale mechanical whirl of the door sealing itself. He shuffled ahead of her to his room, expecting her to follow. "You'll take my bed."

"Oh..." Raven stopped short, staring oddly at the floor. "I didn't ask you for help to put you out."

"You're not putting me out. You couldn't possibly put me out." The corner of his mouth tugged upward for a second as he searched her pale face. "We're best friends, aren't we?" She nearly flinched. "Did I say something wrong?" Damian frowned, trying to level with her.

"Damian, it was my powers, though I'm sure you already knew." Raven bent her head, holding it against the pillow. Slowly, she dragged it down her face. "Do you really want to know what I was doing?" She sounded muffled, but her words were clearer than they had been all night.

"What?" Damian's heart lurched in his chest. Even though he still wasn't sure what to think. But if Raven wanted to tell him -

"Yes."

"In my bed - tonight, I was..." Her voice sounded frailer, even a little afraid. "My bed is broken because... I was alone and thinking of you..."

What?

"You were alone," Damian paused, rather nonplussed. "And thinking of me?"

That was it?

"It was late." Raven spoke slower, this time.

"Yes."

"I was up..."

"Naturally."

"Reading - one of my novels..." Her purple eyebrows arched. "Alone."

"So, you've said."

"...and thinking of you."

"Right..."

"I was thinking of you," Raven repeated. "Alone."

"Oh..." Damian started. He licked his lips thoughtfully. "Oh."

"Oh? That's it, that's all you have to say?" When Raven marched down the hall, her short legs were faster than usual. The other Titan couldn't catch up to her, despite his longer legs, she seemed determined enough to have lapped him.

Or slapped him by the murderous look in her eye.

"Raven, slow down..." Damian stretched out a hand, trying to keep up with her. Every time he thought he was getting closer, she slid further out of reach. He was still processing, he hadn't expected this, if she could give him just one minute -

"You didn't consider for one minute that maybe..." She stopped, strands of plum whipping her cheek, when she turned to him. "No, of course not. How could you? You don't see me that way," Raven swallowed hard. "Or anything."

"Raven. Don't, I -"

"I shouldn't have bothered you with this, you were busy then and clearly you're still elsewhere." Raven didn't meet his eye. "Please, forget I mentioned this - any of this. I'll wake Starfire and you can get back to deliberating, planning or coordinating... You can chalk this up to some insufferable late night psycho babble from a half-demon whose powers must have gone haywire for the second time tonight." She turned away. "Good night."

"But." His fingers brushed her shoulder. "You broke your bed because of me."

"Yes, we've established that. It doesn't mean anything." Raven shrugged him away. "My powers are out of control right now - that's all it really means."

"No." He caught her fingertips and clasped her hand, spinning her to face him. "I'm not going to - I can't let this go." He pulled her in his arms, her stiff, small form. "I can't let you go." Because even still, she was warm and soft and she was Raven. She smelled of honey and sage and soy candles left burning overnight - home. 

This was scent he inhaled whenever his mind registered that he was home. It was like he was home at last, and he wanted to hold her close to him for hours. He stared down at her, marveling at the words as they revealed themselves in a new light that was vibrant, bright and multi-hued. "You broke your bed because of me."

"Let go of me." Raven's cheeks were aflame. Her eyes were wide, her lips were wavering.

"No."

No more rash assumptions tonight, or not acting rashly enough.

All he needed to be certain of was this. And he was not going to let Raven go again.

"I...need to masturbate - meditate." Raven let out a frustrated sob, struggling in his arms. "I need to meditate and -" Damian's fingers swept up the nape of her neck and he pressed the seam of his lips onto her own. The pillows and blankets slid out of her hand, her body had gone pliant. A sweet mewl rose up from her throat and neither of them gave any more thought to the finicky state of her powers, this was more important.

This needed to be communicated, he needed her to understand that he did understand.

"You broke your bed because of me..." He mumbled against her lips, tasting hints of jasmine tea. "You were thinking of me when your bed broke." Damian repeated her words back to her with an understanding that was always there. Just below the surface, it was waiting for him, calling out for Raven. He brushed her hair back from her cheeks. Tucking it behind her ears. "This beautiful mind - here." His thumbs rising to massage that worry muscle above her eyebrow. "I want it on me." And he smoothed his lips over it, kissing it repeatedly. "I want to fill it with thoughts of me. Only me."

"Wait - wait." Raven trembled, her eyes were wild. "What does this mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

He could feel her forehead moving, veins ticking, the brain below it working itself up into a frenzy. She couldn't quite process what was happening. The possibility that he might feel just as strongly, just as intensely. Perhaps even to a greater degree than she.

"Damian... Aren't we - friends?"

"Aren't we past that?" Damian cupped her chin and captured her mouth again. Pressing back against her lips tighter and harder, clutching her - tighter, harder. Running his hands up and down her back, feeling barely any layers to separate what was happening between them. But really, how could something as insignificant as layers keep them apart? Even without his chest bare and Raven's strappy pajama top so tiny there was no way she was wearing a bra.

How could anything now?

Damian growled low in his throat. "Would you come to someone in the middle of the night about your broken bed if they were merely a confidant?" Raven whimpered, as he too had pitched her own words and actions against her, all the while rounding her ear with his tongue.

"But, I thought -" She murmured incoherently into his neck "- and my powers."

"Yes, what about them? How could they resist reaching out, if you hadn't considered more? If you thought of me as only a friend?" Raven gasped, and he stole it straight from her - along with every breath from all the gasps from her lungs. "It's just us, we can both admit the truth."

"And what is the truth?" Raven leaned into him, turning doe-eyed blue-violet upon him. He feathered his thumb over those impossibly soft lips, like he couldn't help himself, because if talking to her meant he couldn't kiss that mouth, he had to touch it in some form or fashion.

"You were reading that romance novel you dogeared to death, I saw it there, covered in wood chips and sawdust." The man, half-naked, broad shouldered, and dark-skinned was unlacing the red corset of a willowy brunette with an arched back. The image was right there on the cover, it was unmistakable. And everything clicked right into place, as if he'd always known. Raven had pictured them in their place and used those thoughts as fodder or fuel. "You were imagining us."

"So tell me." He felt shivers race up his spine and it wasn't from those machinations alone, it was Raven's lips, stroking along his neck. When she spoke her voice was barely a whisper and raspier than he had ever heard it. "What did I imagine?"

"We were in your room, caught up in our connection -" The pale fingers threaded through his hair, in time with his musings. "Caught up in each other in ways that would make the Goddesses blush, if not undoubtedly cause a box-spring shatter beneath us, and then..."

Her hands stilled and tugged the dark strands. "Then?"

"Then it did, your bed broke."

A small smile curved onto her face, but it didn't match the mischievous stare contained in her eyes. Not exactly. "And now we're here?"

Damian glanced at the door plate marking the entrance to his room. "And now...we're here."

[devinescribe]

Games

Chapter 7 to '100 Promises'

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Warnings: Swearing, violence, bullying, blood, I think that's it, but as always feel free to tell me if I missed any.

"I finally got contact lenses. I think they'll be better than my glasses. I mean, yeah, I'll probably still use them, but it's... nevermind, what do you think?" He rambled, a dorky smile on his face. "If it'll make you happy, then you look great," you said, smiling, honestly meaning your words. "I'm asking for your opinion woman, stop giving me the 'if it makes you happy' bullshit. Give me your opinion," he stated, shaking your shoulders."It looks good! I'm not used to seeing you without your glasses, but you look good!" You laughed, your words coming out in a vibrato of sorts from him shaking you. "I'm glad you think so."

"Dear gods my hair is getting long..." he muttered, running his hands through his hair, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. "I think it looks good," you commented, passing by the bathroom with a laundry basket. "Really? I think I kind of like it too..."

"And how much does it hurt?" He questioned. "Not that much, or so I've heard. Plus, we're getting it at the same time, so... no backing out, or I'll cut your hair," you threatened, your hold on his hand tightening a bit. "No, don't you dare. And I won't back out," he said as you dragged him into the shop. (The fact I've been threatened with that-)

"I somehow can't believe we looked like that!" You laughed, pointing at the photo on your phone. It was from high school, and you were both laughing at how dorky you both looked. "Oh gods... actually, I was kind of hot," you said, giggling a bit. "Have we really changed that much?" Niragi questioned. "Well, let's see," you said, opening the camera and telling Niragi to get into frame. He did so, and you both stuck out your tongues, the matching piercings glinting in the light. You snapped the photo, and put it side by side the one from high school. "Wow... that's a big difference, holy shit," he laughed. You snickered, and posted side by side comparison of the the photos. "Yeah. Huge difference."

"Hatter would like to see you... Alone."

You looked back at Ann, and nodded, getting up. "If she's going, I'm going with," Niragi said, getting up himself. "He said he wants to speak to (Y/N) alone. Respect to rules for once please," Ann chided, as you walked to her side. Niragi laughed, finishing with a smirk, "And since when do I listen to the rules?"

You looked back at him with a proud, yet embarrassed face. Definitely not the same Niragi from back in the real world. He was more confident than you last remembered, that was for sure. "Dude, I'll be totally fine. The least they could do is kill me," you said, a bit to nonchalantly for his tastes. "That seems like a worse case scenario, but ok." he responded, "I'm still going with you." "No, you're not. Look, I'll be fine ok? Just wait outside the door," you suggested. He scoffed, but nodded nontheless. Ann stayed quiet, watching this exchange. 'So... is that all it takes to convince him? Really? All we needed was this girl?' Were her thoughts.

"Oh good, you're here!" Hatter exclaimed as soon as you walked in. Ann stayed outside, and shut the doors behind you. You nodded. Was he happy or just extremely charismatic? You didn't know, but whatever it was, it was nice. It made you feel like you were talking to someone you knew. Like the pleasant ladies from your apartment complex. "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

"Where are we?" You asked as you got off the train. "I don't know. Just took a random train. You said you wanted another adventure," he replied. You gasped. "Niragi Suguru, you did not," you said, grabbing onto his hand to make sure you didn't lose him in the large crowd. "I did. And what of it?" He asked, dragging you out. "Oh my gods... Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but which city are we in?" You asked one of the people who worked there. They smiled and answered with, "Shinjuku. Are you lost?"  You shook your head. "No, we'll be fine. Thank you very much!" You said. Niragi dragged you to the exit. "I don't look presentable to be in Shinjuku right now, Niragi," you said, hiding your face. "You always look nice though. And it's called opportunity. I took it, and now we're here. So, let's take advantage of this, yeah?"

Hatter sat you down. "From what Ann and Aguni reported back to me, you're a quick thinker. Great shot apparently. They were both very impressed," he started. You smiled. "I'm honored they felt that way," you said. Hatter chuckled. "Well, Ann said you'd do well in either position of a militant or an executive. And it's just your luck the precious person who held number 7 recently... died. The games, obviously. Before you came here, actually. Maybe it was a sign it was meant to be yours. And, since you've proven yourself useful, I think it's a good idea," Hatter said, rambling a bit. "That's a bit too high for me, isn't it?" You questioned. You had just gotten here, you couldn't possibly be up that high already. "Uh... no. It's not. So, as of today, you shall be a militant," he said dramatically. You laughed, thanking him as he gave you a wristband with the number seven written on the blue tag. You slipped it on your wrist. "Oh, and just so you know, Aguni will most likely take you under his wing. The militants are mostly guys, so be careful. And... uh... your friend can help you find everything. He'll also show you to your new room. That is all. Goodbye now," he said cheerfully. You smiled brightly, thanking him.

You opened the door to leave, seeing Niragi leaning on the wall across the door. You smiled, closing the door softly behind you. "I'm back," you said. He nodded, "I can see that." "Can you really? You have your contact lenses?" You asked, skeptical. He nodded his head. "Surprisingly," he added. "Hmm... and for how many more days do you have them?" You questioned as he led you through the hotel. "Well, I've been in the borderland about 2 and a half weeks-"

"Woah, hold up... you'd been gone for six months up in the real world-"

"Well, I'm starting to think time runs differently in both places. Because no way in hell have I been here 6 months."

"Ok... continue on."

You two talked about whatever came to mind just like you used to. It was like you never skipped a beat. He lead you down into where they kept the weapons. "Only milatants and Hatter are allowed down here. This is the basement, and also where we keep the weapons. So, take your pick," he said, a smirk on his face. "You're a bit to proud of this aren't you?" You asked, looking over the different weapons. "Maybe," he responded. You didn't have to look at him to know he was smirking, you could just hear it in his voice. You picked out a knife that had a strap around. You also picked up a riffle similar to Niragi's, and turned to face him. "Ok, I'm good," you said. "Tomorrow, the militants are heading out on a supply run. Which means you now too. You can wear actual clothes now, isn't that fun?" He joked. You rolled your eyes shoving him playfully. He ran his tongue over his teeth. "That's really how you want to play, huh (L/N)?" He asked. You could hear the tone behind his words. The tone that meant run or your fucked, because whatever game he's scheming will end with you caught. It was quite normal for you two. Playing games with each other was a hobby back in the real world. Didn't matter how childish or immature they were. "Ouch, my last name? That hurts... Suguru." (Is that his last name or his first name? I don't know, I've been treating it as his last name, but I'm probably wrong) You giggled, running off. There was probably tons of places to hide inside the basement, and probably even more places throughout the beach.

"How was last night? Did you have fun?" He teased as soon as you woke up. You rolled your eyes. "Don't even talk to me about last night. Another disappointment," you groaned, rubbing your eyes. "Damn. That bad, huh?" He said, handing you a mug with coffee in it. You took a sip, and smiled. Perfect... He always made really good coffee, and it impressed you. "Yeah... definitely that bad. I heard him leave this morning, let's hope he never comes back," you said. Niragi laughed, taking a sip of his own coffee. The sunlight came in through the sliding glass door of your apartment.  The sky was painted with pinks and purples. Gold dusted the clouds as the sun touched them. It was perfectly picturesque. "One day, we won't have to live in a sucky apartment building, you know? I promise you that one day we'll have... I don't know where do you want to live?" He asked you. You both walked over to the couch, sitting next to eachother. "I don't know... I'd go anywhere as long as I can still have my best friend with me.''

"Come on out, (Y/N). I'll find you sooner or later. We need sleep," he shouted. You stifled a laugh, and crouched down, sneaking around. You could see him looking around for you. You moved backwards, bumping into someone. You slowly turned around. It was the guys Niragi had introduced as 'Last Boss'.

Throughout the day, you had actually had the opportunity to talk to him a bit. More like you talked, while he observed you, occasionally making a sound of sorts to show you he was listening. He'd also answered your questions, so you thought he wouldnt be that bad. You made the quiet signal, putting a finger to your lips. He looked down quizzically. "Playing a game. Can't let him find me. Wanna join?" You whispered to the mysterious man. He nodded slightly, still a bit confused. "Ok, the objective is to not get caught by Niragi. He doesn't know you're playing yet, so I'll figure something out... oh, I got it! You go hide," you whisper shouted, shooing him off. He went to go hide, and you climbed to the top of one of the darker places. "A new player has joined in. One seeker, two hiders!" You shouted. You heard Niragi laugh. "Dumbass! You're letting me know where you are!"  You smirked. That's what you wanted him to think.

"Oh nice! You got his glasses that's 20 points!" The boys shouted. You struggled to get out of the ropes tied your hands together. You heard Niragi groan, and looked up, seeing him on the floor, blood dripping from his nose. "Niragi!" You shouted in worry. He looked over at you, before one of the guys kicked his face into the ground. You struggled against the ropes the boys had tied around your wrist. It dug into your skin, you could feel the skin being rubbed raw from how much you had struggled against them ."So useless without eachother, huh?" One of them taunted. "Stop hurting him!" You yelled, squirming. "Oh? Would you rather we harm you then? You were always such a pretty girl... to bad you decided to defend him," the leader of their little group said, kneeling in front of you. "I don't give a damn if you hurt me. Stop hurting him!' You shouted. "(Y-y/N), don't," Niragi said, before one of the bullies kicked him in the stomach. He winced in pain, screwing his eyes shut. "Stop it! He didn't do anything to you!" You screamed, struggling even more, the ropes creating rope burn on your skin. "It's not a vengeance thing. It's fun," the leader said, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. You glared at him in disgust, wanting so badly to just hit him, or spit on him in the moment. But you didn't. You didn't because you knew if you did either you or Niragi would get hurt. More likely Niragi, since they knew he was your weakness. "Just like it's fun making girls like you submit," he added with a smirk. "Don't you dare hurt her! Hurt me all you want, but don't touch her!" Niragi yelled. There was confidence in his words, but you also knew how scared he was. You could see it on his face. "That sounds boring though. What if we just make both of you our little puppets for the night, have you both put on a show?'' One of the guys snickered. This was followed by a chorus of 'not a bad idea' and 'sounds interesting.' You looked at Niragi, fear written all over your face.

You ran quietly, and quickly, knowing he could catch up to you. You looked around the dimly lit basement, and saw the exist to go up. Your eyes caught a flash of movement, and someone grabbed you, putting a hand over your mouth. You were shocked at first, going to scream bloody murder, before seeing it was Last Boss. He let you go, and you took a breath. "Oh my gods... dude that was scary," you whispered. He shrugged. "I have a place we can hide. I don't think he's smart enough to find it," He suggested, nodding his head over to Niragi. You stifled a laugh, and nodded, letting him lead you.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N), are you alright?" He worriedly asked, checked on you. You hissed in pain when his hands went over the bruises. "I'm sorry. This is all my fault, if I hadn't-" he started, blaming himself. You grabbed shoulders, and shook your head. "It's not your fault... it's ok," you said, sitting up. The gravel under you poked at the skin exposed from your school skirt. "I-its not ok!" He shouted. "It's... it's not ok. You shouldn't have- I could've-" he started, pulling at his hair. "Niragi. It's not your fault. You didn't... you didn't hurt me," you said, your voice calming. You grabbed his hands, pulling them towards you. You were just kids. Fucking 16 years old(not exactly a kid, but whatever), you shouldn't have to go through this stuff. No kid should. "I should be comforting you, yet here you are, making me feel better. Stop it, you're the one who-"

"Niragi, it happened to both of us. Stop acting like you're ok too."

"But- I'm supposed to... I-"

"Shut up, and come here."

He sighed, sitting besides you. You pulled his head into your lap, and he sighed. "Stop taking care of me. Stop hanging out with me, because you're the one who ends up getting hurt because of me. Please," he pleaded as you ran your fingers through his hair. "No," you responded. "(Y/N), stop being so stubborn! Please, just... just listen to me!" He shouted. You flinched at the sudden loudness. "I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you," he apologized, noticing when you flinched. You sighed, leaning back on the concrete wall. You muttered back something along the lines of him not having to apologize. You heard thunder, and saw a flash of lightning. "It's going to rain, we should go home," Niragi said. "Don't wanna... let's stay here?" You muttered, watching the sun get covered by the clouds. You were under a bridge, so you at least had coverage. He looked up at you, and nodded. "Ok. We can," he whispered. The raindrops began to splatter on the ground outside the coverage of the bridge, and you sighed in happiness. Niragi sat up, bringing you close to him. The smell of rain filled your senses, and you couldn't help but enjoy the moment, even if you had been in emotional and physical pain before. Being there helped numb it for a while. Being with him helped numb the feeling.

"Alright... if I were (Y/N)... where would I go?" Niragi muttered to himself, walking around. It was too quiet. You weren't a quiet person unless need be, and if he remembers correctly, which he does, you had a losing streak in hide and seek since high school. You were too giggly to hide in silence, or maybe you got scared by being alone in the dark to long. Whatever it had been, you had a losing streak for almost 8 years. That was not about to change, not if he had a say in it. A part of him said he was not acting like himself, and that playing this with you was childish. Especially in the borderlands. He knew he would have to find you either way, so he stopped caring. He remembered what she had said. A new player has joined in. One seeker, two hiders! 'Ok, process of elimination....'

"So, given the fact Chishiya isn't allowed down here, I think I know who she's with, and where she is. Let's see if I'm right.''

This was more memories than actual current events... oh well- hope you enjoyed, have a wonderful day/night, baii!! Oh yeah, just because this is the only place people have a problem with me posting Niragi stuff, if you don't like it, the block button is right there, don't send me death threats or tell me to go kms. Thank you