#idk how this chapter turned out to be 5000 words

[aliceslantern]

Beyond this Existence: New Life, short 16--Unlucky

Recovery is a tedious, nonlinear process. Demyx, Ienzo, and the others living in Radiant Garden's castle have to learn to come to terms with their pasts and their memories, learn to grow, and begin to understand what, exactly, it means to be human. While there is unexpected joy in this, there is also unexpected sorrow. A series of oneshots set after Beyond this Existence.

Current short: “Unlucky.”  A routine case with a vengeful patient leaves Demyx with more than he bargained for.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

It had been kind of a long day. Drizzly, but in a vague sort of way, as though the sky couldn’t make up its mind. Demyx only had one call left before shift change, and a last-minute one; a woman had badly cut her hand by the marketplace and needed help. It would be a quick fix, at least, before he could go home and collapse into bed.

The population around here was getting to be more dense, though it still paled in comparison to many of the cities he’d visited. A few people he’d healed greeted him. He still struggled to remember all their names.

The woman was waiting by her front door, her face ashen and drawn. She had a towel wrapped tightly around her hand, and it was soaked through in places. “Good, you’re here,” she said.

“Ouch, what’d you do?”

“Trying to do some slice and dice on some vegetables… and, well…” she shrugged. She was youngish, maybe thirty or so. Her apron had splotches of blood on it.

“It happens more than you think.” He smiled. “I can fix it. Why don’t you sit down?”

She sat on her stoop. He could barely see the inside of the small home, the onions and tomatoes sitting on a now-dirty cutting board. A bloody knife. A kettle had been put up, but was not yet boiling.

Demyx sat next to her. “How’s the pain?”

“It stings more than anything. The peppers, you know.” She bit her lip.

Before unwrapping it, he gave a quick scan of the wound, and cast a spell to coagulate the blood. He set the bloody towel aside. It was a clean cut, but one that probably would’ve had trouble healing on its own. He cleaned it quickly. She hadn’t even lost much blood, and it was shallow enough that it wouldn’t scar with a spell. He had it fixed in five minutes. The woman flexed her hand.

“You’re all set,” he said. “Just try to be careful next time, okay?”

“Oh, before you go. I was about to make some tea. Would you like some?”

Demyx hesitated. “That’s really nice of you, but I should let you get back to your dinner--”

“I insist.” She smiled widely, revealing straight, even teeth. “It’s the perfect kind of day for it.”

“Uh… sure. Thanks.”

She went back inside and came back a moment later with two mugs. “It’s a special blend. I made it myself.”

“Oh, are you a botanist?”

She laughed superficially. “You could say that.”

Demyx sipped at the tea. It was incredibly bitter, and he tried not to flinch. “The taste really is… unique.”

“Thanks. I thought so too.” She didn’t sip at her tea immediately.

“Are you new here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“I guess, in a sense. I just moved back in a few weeks ago. This was my sister’s house, but she… well.” The woman sighed. “She fell to darkness some years ago.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “I’m getting along just fine on my own.”

He drank the tea probably too quickly, eager to get rid of the sour taste. “That’s good. I’ve noticed the people here are really friendly. You’re in good company.”

“I’m sure I am.” He wondered if he was imagining the dark undertone of her voice. She had been talking about her dead sister, after all. “We seem to be pretty welcoming to just about everyone.”

“Yeah… I really like it.” He tried to smile. “Thanks again for the refreshment. I’ll see you around.” Demyx realized he hadn’t even asked her name, but when he turned back to fix this, she had gone inside and shut the door. He brushed off the weirdness as a lack of social skills and started the long walk back.

It did seem much longer than usual. His calf muscles were getting tighter as he climbed the shallow incline, even though he usually took it a few times a day. Demyx attributed it to exhaustion, the weather. Once he was on the flat surface of the postern it didn’t fade, however, and in face the ache seemed to be creeping steadily upwards. He tried to think about what it might be. Potassium deficiency? Dehydration? He’d probably feel better with water and rest.

He kept making his way upstairs. The cramping was getting worse, more uncomfortable, almost painful now. Had he burnt out again? That had felt kind of similar. It would figure. Broken bones and pneumonia were high-cost heals, and he’d had a couple. He started to dig in his kit for an ether, found half of one, and had just brought the bottle to  his mouth when a sharp pang in his chest made him double in two. The bottle fell to the ground and shattered, spilling the shiny green liquid all over the floor. “Shit.” He rubbed at the pain, trying to get it to ease enough to stand. A hot burning sensation replaced the pain, and his vision seemed to shimmer.

It wasn’t--no--

Demyx dug out his gummiphone and dialed Even.

His voice was sharp and snippy. “Boy, I’m in the middle of something. What do you want?”

“I think I’ve been poisoned.”

---

Demyx couldn’t make it as far as the lab. His muscles were too tight, and painful, and he sat propped against a wall waiting for help. He dug through his bag with shaking, achy fingers to see if he had any antidote, but he’d used his last on a kid who’d accidentally swallowed cleaning products. He had to wait and hope he could make it until help came.

At least it was fairly quick. “What on earth did you do to yourself?” Dilan asked sourly.

“Not me,” he hissed through his teeth. He could feel sweat coursing down his face.

“Can you walk at all?”

“Hurts too much.”

Dilan hefted him up like a baby. Being moved hurt worse than the stillness, and for a moment he thought he might faint. “You’re much lighter than you look.”

He tried to keep breathing. His head was swimming too much to try and figure out what had been done to him, and why. Even was smart. Even could handle it.

“So what is this? An accident? A cruel prank?”

“Don’t know.”

“We’re almost there.”

Time seemed to stretch, elongate…

“Demyx, try to stay awake.”

“Sorry.”

There were so many damn hallways in this place.

“Here. Set him over here.” Even’s voice, high and stressed.

“He’s been slipping in and out of consciousness.”

A sharp stab of cool fluid into his arm. Demyx’s eyes fluttered open. He could just barely feel the canvas of a cot under all the pain.

“There you are,” Even said. Another pinprick, this one in his hand. “How do you feel?”

“Hurts.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“I’m sorry, I’m hesitant to give you anything while we’re trying to get you to metabolize this nasty business. I’m going to take some blood, alright? Let’s see if I can’t figure out what this is. In the meantime, I'm just going to keep a steady antidote drip.”

“Okay.” The words would’ve meant more to him if he could focus. His muscles were stiff, tight, and burning. Demyx wasn’t sure to be glad or not he was conscious. He shivered, hard enough that Even had trouble getting blood. Even tucked a scratchy wool blanket around him.

"I should tell Ienzo."

"No," he hissed. "No, I'll do it after."

"You're very ill. You'll probably be very ill for the next few days."

The generic antidote was making him more lucid, but it also made him more aware of the pain, insidious and awful. "That bad?"

"I'm still doing research. But you're lucky you recognized it and got to me when you did."

Through a sort of haze Demyx watched Even at work at the nearby table, watching him pipette blood and examine it under a microscope.

Time was moving weirdly. It could've been ten minutes or two hours. The pain eased in the slightest. He was desperately tired, and desperately thirsty, despite the fluids he was taking. "Even?"

He looked up. "Yes?"

"Will I die if I go to sleep?"

He smiled sadly. "No, you're rebounding enough. Get some rest. You'll need it."

Demyx slipped in and out, never quite getting all the way asleep…

"It was quite alarming to see. I haven't yet gotten the story. I think you may be right, Dilan. Someone clearly has ire for us."

Demyx blinked. Something cold wormed under the skin of his hand. "What…"

Even patted his wrist. "A more specific antidote. Go back to sleep."

"What was it?"

Even frowned. He sat on an upturned crate next to the cot. "A type of neurotoxin that causes your cells to stop accepting water. Essentially, it would've been a very quick, very painful death from dehydration. Not to worry, I've made a serum which seems to be combatting it. Your vitals are already stabilizing."

Demyx considered the irony of this. "She must've known."

Even's eyebrows furrowed. "Who?'

"The person who did this." He tried to sit up, or at least prop himself up, but his muscles were horrifically sore. “About my old powers—”

"Don't move," Even said gently. "I figured you, of all people, would understand this part of palliative care."

The joke didn't phase him. "Why else would she use a poison to dry me out?"

"Who?"

"The woman, the one who--" Hot nausea brought tears to his eyes. "I'm going to throw up."

Dutifully, Even handed him a pail to be sick into. This dealt with, he tried to focus.

"She gave me tea. After I healed her. I thought the cut was too clean, that she acted weird--"

Even sighed. "You gave her the benefit of the doubt. As any competent physician would." He paused. "Do you remember where she lived? We should let the committee know. The last thing we need is another maniac on the loose."

Demyx swallowed the taste of bile. He told Even what he remembered, but this exhausted him into a stupor. Even gave him another dose of the real antidote. He drifted off and woke suddenly, disoriented, is his own bed. There was still an IV in his hand. His head was pounding in time with his heart, an insistent thud like a metronome, and his stomach was sour. The blackout curtains of the room had been drawn, leaving it blessedly dark and cool.

In the semidarkness, he did not quite realize that there were other people in the apartment with him. The lamp by the couch was on, and it was here Even and Ienzo sat, mumbling to one another too softly for him to make out. Demyx felt horrifically thirsty, and despite all the time that had passed and all the fluids he’d taken he still didn’t feel the need to use the bathroom. He wondered if the poison had done more damage to him than he’d thought, that it had fucked with his kidneys, and if he should say something.

One thing at a time. Worry about sitting up first.

A sharp, splitting pain in his ab muscles nearly made him gasp out loud, but he managed it at last, treading dizziness. His skin was tacky with dried sweat.

The muffled conversation abruptly stopped. Ienzo stood and all but ran over to him. “You scared a few years off my life. Easily,” he said. He pulled Demyx into a gentle embrace, and if he hadn’t been so dehydrated he probably would’ve cried. Demyx couldn’t help but lean into the comfort. Too soon, Ienzo broke away and touched his face. “How do you feel?”

“Oh, wonderful,” he said hoarsely. “I could run a marathon.”

A twitchy, anxious smile broke the tension in his brows. “Are you still symptomatic?”

“Well I feel like roadkill. Like a hangover times one thousand. But the worst of the pain seems to have stopped.”

“Good.”

Even gently steered Ienzo out of the way and took Demyx’s pulse. “Aerith appraised you when you were unconscious,” he told him. “You should be alright, more or less, so long as we keep your electrolytes up to snuff. The antidote seems to have worked before the poison caused lasting damage. I’ve made more, in case our little friend decides to strike again.”

“I’m still so thirsty.”

“I’m sure it must feel that way. You’re getting more than enough fluids.”

Ienzo turned towards the window, peeking through the curtain at the moonlit night. His arms were crossed and he clutched his elbow so tightly Demyx could see the knuckles were white. He wanted to console him, but considering his brain felt like it had been microwaved all he could focus on was how shitty he felt. “Can I change clothes?” Demyx asked Even. “Maybe take a bath? I feel gross.”

Even raised an eyebrow. “Do you feel up to it?” he asked. “You should really rest first.”

“I’ll feel better. There could still be vestiges of the poison in my sweat. Which I’m kind of covered in.”

“That’s a fair point. Ienzo?”

He jerked, as though startled.

Even squinted at him. “Could you help him? I’m sure he’d prefer you over me.”

“Yes. Of course,” he said stiffly.

Standing was treacherous, and he had to lean heavily against Ienzo. In the privacy of the bathroom he let Demyx undress, his back turned as if they didn’t see one another naked on a regular basis. Demyx hung the IV fluid on a rack normally devoted to towels and settled in the warm water. “Well, this is humiliating,” he said slowly.

Ienzo sat on the covered toilet. “I’m sure.”

“I feel like an invalid.”

“You’re very, very weak.” He sighed. “While you were resting, I studied that compound. Things could’ve been so much worse, Demyx.” His voice trembled in the slightest. “It could’ve caused irreparable, irreversible damage to your brain. You could’ve had memory loss, or been paralyzed-- why are you laughing?”

The deadly anger of his tone sobered what little humor Demyx had found. “I can deal with memory loss.”

Ienzo paled, his anger dissolving. “Yes… that was… tactless of me.” A pause. “You could’ve lost so much, aside from your life. Motor skills… the ability to speak…”

“Motor skills?” He looked at his wet palms, which trembled faintly. He hoped it was from anxiety and nothing deeper. Aerith would’ve said something, right? “You mean I couldn’t play Arpeggio?”

“Amongst other things.”

He’d been too sick to realize it. He could handle the thought of death, even being disabled, because there was nothing wrong with not being able to walk or talk. Whatever would have happened, he could handle and adjust. But losing Arpeggio? Again? He felt wetness in his eyes and tried to blink it back.

“This is probably traumatizing,” Ienzo said softly. He took Demyx’s hand.

“Probably? You think?”

“I hope this is an anomaly, a lone act of cruelty. The committee is opening an investigation. Once you’re well, they want to question you.” He slumped a bit, as though his body weighed too much. “I am… furious. Even if this is revenge against the apprentices, there was no reason for you to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Unless she knew about me being in the Organization.”

“That is… possible, yes. Even so. It would’ve made far more sense for her to target one of us.”

“I interact with people more. Maybe she was trying to send a message.” His stomach was feeling a little worse, and he settled more deeply into the tub.

“Perhaps,” he said. “I had hoped Dilan was wrong, about the townspeople harboring grudges against us. I was naive.”

“You were hopeful.”

Ienzo looked up. There were tears in his eyes.

“Maybe it’s got nothing to do with our pasts. Maybe she’s just crazy and wanted to hurt someone.”

“Maybe,” he said, though Demyx could tell he didn’t believe it. “Is it helping? The bath?”

“It feels good. I’m so sore.”

“You probably shouldn’t stay in too long. I’d feel much better if you were back in bed. I should probably change the sheets, in case you were right about it being in your sweat.” He stood. “I’ll do that now. If you need me, shout.”

Taking a bath wore him out. Once he had actually brushed his teeth and gotten dressed again, he fell asleep for an indeterminable length of time. When he woke up, he was still achy, still thirsty, but a little bit less so. He kept down tea and a bowl of rice, was able to get to the bathroom on his own. It was a small victory.

Aeleus visited him. After all this time they weren’t very close, but Demyx appreciated the gesture regardless. “I’ve made you some bone broth soup. It’ll help get your strength back.”

“Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

He sat in the chair at the bedside. Ansem had taken Ienzo out for lunch, though he didn’t know that Demyx asked him to do this. Ienzo needed air, some time to decompress. “How do you feel?”

“Much better,” Demyx admitted. “I’m getting there. Slowly. I can’t wait to get this thing out of my hand.”

“You gave Ienzo quite a fright.”

“I think it hit him harder than it hit me, to be honest.” Demyx bit his lip. “To a degree I think he thinks it’s his fault. That the woman was really after one of you, that this was some sort of revenge. It’s probably triggering him. That’s why I wanted him to talk to Ansem.”

Aeleus nodded sagely. “You know him well.”

Demyx laughed a little. “Well--I hope so. He’s hard to figure out, but I’m getting better at it.”

“You’ve become very considerate. Compared to then.”

He scratched the back of his neck with his untethered hand. His hair was a mess, but he saw no point in making it look good today. “I’ve worked really hard on that. The way I… used to talk to the others, makes me… ugh, cringe.” He bit his lip. “You want to know something really horrible? When Demyx heard about you guys at CO getting killed, he was happy. As much as a Nobody could feel, anyway.”

Aeleus’s expression barely changed. “You had to develop a sense of empathy from scratch. I, too, hardened my heart. So to speak. It was the only way to get through.”

“I already asked Even and Dilan. But how did you end up with Ansem?”

Aeleus thought about this for a few minutes. “We can say it was… progress for progress’s sake,” he said slowly. “I was young, I was idealistic. I’d heard that Ansem was pushing the boundaries of what could be, and I… feeling somewhat stuck in a rut… craved that change.”

“Did you feel trapped in Radiant Garden?”

“I believe I did. To hear him speak of other worlds, of other cultures was… intoxicating. It changed absolutely everything. Now I try my best to not be jaded. This place… I hope to nurture it.”

Demyx understood. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job.”

---

He slept again, deeply, and woke up disoriented a little after noon. He felt weird, and it took him a minute to process that he only felt that way because he wasn’t thirsty. Demyx waited for Even’s confirmation, but getting rid of the IV made him feel a million times better. He was able to at least rest on the couch now instead of in bed.

Aerith came by with Leon. She confirmed that the poison was gone from his system, but that he should still rest for another few days, at least until the fatigue dissipated. She made them tea and, exam and pleasantries over, they set to business.

Demyx told Leon everything he remembered, every detail to how she looked and acted, to how the tea tasted, where she lived. He’d told Even all this in a sort of fugue state. Giving the report made him feel vaguely nauseous.

“We’ve investigated the leads,” Leon said. “It’s so weird. When Yuffie went to that home, there was nobody there. There was no sign it was even inhabited. We’ve asked around, and nobody’s seen this person in days. We’re thinking she came over with one of the last Traverse Town flights. Without a name, and without records… she’ll be hard to catch.”

Demyx bit his lip. “I don’t want anyone else getting hurt.”

Leon sighed. “Yeah, us too. And we’ve let everyone know--not that it was you, but that someone had been poisoned, and not to accept anything from strangers or what seems or tastes suspicious. The restaurant owners are all pissed at me, but I don’t do this to be liked.”

“Even has samples of my blood and the poison. If that helps.”

Aerith’s eyes brightened. “You know, it might,” she said. “Maybe if I can figure out where it came from, we can find out more about the person who did this.”

“I’d say you guys in particular need to be extra careful,” Leon said. “In case this was targeting you specifically.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Do you think it is? Has anyone ever, like, mentioned anything about us?”

Leon tapped his fingers against his notepad. “Not that I can recall. I sent Yuffie out to do some recon. She’s good with people. If there’s anything to be found, she’ll find it.”

“And at least we have and can make more of the antidote, should someone need it,” Aerith said. “It’s good you were able to recognize it for what it was.”

“I kind of have you to thank for that. That, and years of getting bitten by asshole Heartless.”

Leon smiled. “We’ll call you if we need more information. Though this brings up an important point. We need to know who lives here. What they’re doing here. Town is growing so fast. We’ve been so focused on the literal infrastructure that I nearly forgot there needs to be other infrastructure too.”

“Oh, bureaucracy.” He tried not to flinch.

“Sort of. We should start a basic census, at least.” He thought about this for a moment, tapping a pen against his chin. “Well, I hope you have a quick recovery.”

Aerith gave him a hug. “Be well.”

---

It took him about ten days before he was feeling normal. It definitely felt like he’d been really sick for a long time. He’d lost weight, and ended up having to buy a belt because nothing fit right anymore. He hoped to gain a few kilos and get back into shape. Demyx was sure if he tried to do magic right now it would wipe him out, or worse.

One of these days he and Ienzo took a walk into town to get some groceries. At first, a flutter of anxiety crept under his skin, because even though Leon said they kept his identity hidden in terms of the poisoning, he feared everyone would know. But they were treated more or less normally.

“I figured I’d use this time as an excuse to bake more,” Ienzo said. “If you need to gain weight, that’s a good way to do it.”

“I won’t say no.”

“I know you won’t. I do enjoy it.” He stood to Demyx’s left, so he has trouble reading Ienzo’s expression. He swore he heard some artificiality in it.

“Can you make macarons? The last time you did I swear I met god.”

“To be fair. We’d just smoked marijuana. That does affect taste. ...And any supposed divine revelation.”

“Even so.”

“That was a good night. We should do it again when you’re well.”

A blush crept into his cheeks. “Yes.” They hadn’t had sex in nearly two weeks; maybe if he wasn’t exhausted when they got home Ienzo might want to.

“Do you feel up to taking the long way home?”

“I think so. I’m not that tired yet.” The early morning air was fresh and cool, and he drank it in gratefully. Even with open windows, the air inside could only feel so clean. “I’ve missed being outside.”

“You’ve dealt with all this beautifully.”

“No point being weak and also miserable.”

“I suppose.”

Demyx looked back towards him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why is it you ask?”

“I wanted to make sure.”

He sighed. “Admittedly, it did dredge up some negative memories,” he said. “You and I… have a complicated history of collapsing on one another.”

“We have the combined constitution of a wet tissue.”

He chuckled. “As well as luck that is both terrible and great.” A pause. Demyx let him take his time. “I know it’s not my fault, but I do feel… guilty. If this is a targeted attack, who knows what else might happen should someone with a grudge seek revenge?”

“I really hope it isn’t that.”

“I do too--” Ienzo’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“I swear I saw someone--maybe I’m paranoid.”

“Might be a Heartless.”

“Are you strong enough to fight one?”

“Maybe a Shadow--probably not much more. Maybe we should turn back towards where there are more claymores.” A seed of dread started to grow in his stomach.

“Yes. I agree.”

They walked back along the blue stone that bordered the edge of town. Ienzo kept looking over his shoulder; Demyx couldn’t help but do the same. They heard rock scrabbling. “We’re definitely being followed by something,” Demyx said, as softly as he could.

“What should we do?”

“Try and act natural until we get somewhere safer.”

Ienzo squeezed his hand more tightly than he normally did. “I’ve got a pocket knife. But I don’t think that will be much use. And my magic is still very limited.”

“Well, we’ll see. Might want to dust off that strategizing part of your brain.”

There was a quiet thud behind them. Demyx turned, tense, ready to draw the Keyblade.

The figure wore a cloak. Not an Organization cloak, a regular, run-of-the-mill cloak. It was brown.

But Demyx, after years of recon, didn’t need to see a person’s face to recognize them. The height, shoulders, and general bearing were enough. He exhaled and put a hand on his hip. “What are you doing here?”

The figure, craving anonymity, said nothing.

Ienzo squinted, confused.

“You trying to finish the job, or what?” Demyx asked.

The figure flicked back their hood and scowled.

“For the record, poisoning a healer isn’t the best way to go. We tend to be pretty resilient. You should’ve just stabbed me.”

The woman’s face was flushed red with anger. “You weren’t supposed to survive.”

“Yeah, that’s how assassination works.”

Demyx turned back to Ienzo. He was frozen; he looked like he’d been struck. Demyx wondered briefly if he’d been hit by a Stop spell, but he was still blinking, and his hands were shaking. More obvious than anything, though, was the flicker of recognition in his eyes.

“Little Ienzo,” she said coolly. “Though--not so small now, are you?”

Demyx tried to think. “Who--” he began, but the woman cut him off.

“Go on, tell him,” she said.

He shuddered, then said, “One of the test subjects. One of the victims. She and her sister.”

“But she’s human,” Demyx said. The conversation he’d had with her previously clicked. “Or--”

“Not all of the people who were exploited fell to darkness. In the--the early days.” He steeled himself. “Regardless of how you feel. Take out your anger on me, not on those around me.”

“I think you were the most disturbing one,” the woman continued. “Of all the scientists. What did they do to you, to get you to act the way they did? And why are you reopening old wounds?”

“I want to help people heal from what I did. The darkness hurt me too.”

She took a step forward. Demyx tried to shove Ienzo behind him instinctively. “Not everybody wants to forgive and forget,” she said.

“More people do than don’t,” Demyx cut in. “And how is trying to kill us solving anything?”

To his surprise, he felt Ienzo taking shelter behind him; he was confused for just a second before he felt Ienzo pressing the gummiphone into his back.

The woman scowled. “He’s got you under his spell too, I see.”

Demyx rolled his eyes. “Honestly, if you want to manipulate me, you’re going to have to be a lot more clever than that.”

Ienzo pressed his palm once again against Demyx’s back. The message was clear; stall.  

“What did you think any of this would achieve?” Demyx asked. His heart was hammering, but he tried to maintain a sculpted look of boredom. “So you kill me. What would your next move have been? Infiltrating the castle? Trying to off us one by one? And then what? Regardless, you’d get caught. We work with the committee. They’d notice if we were gone.”

She seemed thrown by this. Behind the bravado, he noticed something like pain.

He sighed. “Look. I get it. I do. I know how it feels to be violated, and then to be so angry, so desperate, so hurt you’ll do anything to make it better. But you don’t have to do it this way. If you want, we can… I can help you.”

She clenched her fists. “You’d help the person who tried to kill you?”

“Yeah. Honor code, right?” he held up his hand, and then wondered if this was overkill.

For a moment she said and did nothing, her expression blank. Her hands opened, relaxed. He breathed a small sigh of relief. Someone would be here soon.

With a flash, almost faster than he could really perceive, he saw the knife, but before he could duck or draw the Keyblade Ienzo threw him down and caught the knife right against his shoulder. In the space of about two seconds, Demyx smashed the hilt of the Keyblade against her temple, and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. He turned back to Ienzo. “Why the fuck would you do that?” Demyx hissed. “Lay down.”

He was breathing heavily, a fine film of sweat all along his face. “Feels mostly like she hit bone,” Ienzo said through his teeth.

“That’s for me to decide.” He ripped off his sweatshirt and packed it around the wound.

“Don’t do magic. Help is coming.”

“Let me at least check to see if it hit an artery.” The bleeding wasn’t visibly too much, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. It could all be internal.

“You’ll hurt yourself--”

“Shut up. You just got fucking stabbed.” He tried to find the energy for a spell. It didn’t seem to want to come. He pulled hard, pulled deep within himself, and immediately felt his body start to protest. He gagged.

“Demyx--”

“No. I’ve got this.”

“Demyx, I’m fine. Really.”

He applied pressure to Ienzo’s wound. He texted Aerith, in case she wasn’t already on the way. “You still with me?”

“I don’t even feel dizzy.”

“Don’t lie.” Tears welled up in his eyes. “If you die I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I’m not going to die.” The way he was breathing seemed to betray that. “I’m not finished with you yet.” His eyes rolled a little bit.

“Ienzo.”

“Still here.”

“Don’t shut your eyes.” He had to try again. Demyx pulled harder, tried to find the magic. Blackness swam over him for a minute.

He heard their footsteps before things could get bleaker. He wasn’t sure if it was from trying to use power, or from panic, but things seemed off, his ears ringing. Aerith crouched to heal the wound, Leon crouched to accost the woman. A small, dusty smelling hand patted his cheek. “Come on, kiddo,” said the voice. Yuffie’s face barely slid into focus.

“I’m five years older than you,” he mumbled, and fainted.

He came to about fifteen seconds later when she tipped an ether into his mouth. He drank it all down, flinching at the oily taste. He turned to Ienzo and Aerith--he was pale, his eyes closed--and a strangled sound caught in his throat.

“He’s alive,” Aerith assured him quickly. “He’s alive. He’s asleep. He’s going to be fine.”

“Oh fuck,” he said to the ground. “Fucking--”

“What a day, huh,” Yuffie said dryly.

---

“I do believe Aerith’s instructions were that both of us were to rest. I also believe I don’t need any more pillows. Nor do I need them fluffed.”

Demyx took a step back. Other than being a little pale, Ienzo seemed completely back to himself.

“You’re doing it again,” he said drolly, and took another drink of the blood replacement potion.

“Doing what?”

“Taking care of me instead of yourself. Come to bed. Lie with me.”

Demyx did so.

Ienzo slid his shirt down his shoulder. “See? I don’t even have a scar. So before you exert yourself wittering over me--”

“You took a fucking knife for me.”

He put a finger over his lips. “Which was a calculated risk I knew probably wouldn’t kill me. In the moment, I admit, I was more concerned about your wellbeing than mine--”

“Probably?”

“Demyx. Breathe.”

He tried to listen.

“I’ve seen too many people die this way.”

“I know. I know. I’m sorry.” Ienzo pulled him close.

He cried for a long time.

“I know you want to protect me,” Ienzo continued. “I think it would be easier, and more productive, if we agreed to protect each other instead. Can you agree to that?” He brushed a tear from Demyx’s eye.

“Yes.”

[threelivesthreeworlds]

@smileymimiwhat asked: Hey guys.. I'm starting to get a lil irritated on how majority of TMOPB viewers think that Mo Yuan was sooo depressed that BaiQian ended up with his lil bro. Even when I first read that novel and watched the drama adaptations, it really annoyed me how so many people think MoYuan loves BaiQian and apparently there's no way they could just have a platonic strong master/student or even like a besties type of relationship. What do you guys think about it? It's so uneasy how the author left this theory as a "spoiler" because alot of old and new fans are starting believe BQ & MQ were meant to be but YH messed up somehow. Im thinking BaiQian might be a physical reincarnation of SW idk kind of like how MY and YH but minus the actually family relation. I dont think Goddesses can reincarnation into each other in this universe, its usually a mortal thing but Idk. But yeah do you guys have any thoughts on this? Btw I love u ❤

        Heya! We love you too! It’s valid to be irritated with the fandom and the theories that come out of it but the “theory” you say Tang Qi left isn’t actually that as Shao Wan is addressed a couple times in the last couple chapters of the book. Bai Qian herself never got up the guts to ask Mo Yuan who this woman was when Shao Wan’s brother came to visit to tell Mo Yuan his sister visited him in a dream and how she had said she was lonely. This was because Mo Yuan looked quite mournful over it then things started to pick up plot wise.

       Chances are she was erased from the drama because of two reasons: she wasn’t mentioned enough and there wasn’t enough to play around with, but also Tang Qi had had 5000 words of Bodhi Fate written at the time (which she only just released this year, anything before was fanfic that someone wrote), which by all means Shao Wan is copyrighted and Tang Qi had yet to be satisfied / return to the specific project of reconstructing her yet. And if I was an author, I wouldn’t want anyone to touch my character until I had more definite information out there about them. 

        The theory you have is shaky at best, as chances are Bai Qian reminds Mo Yuan of Shao Wan in personality. From the little of her seen in Lotus Step so far, Shao Wan gives off slight airs of what Bai Qian feels like. Also for reincarnation in this world - it d o e s happen in terms of mortals: Cheng Yu being a fine example of it as she is the last of 17 reincarnation of the goddess of Zuti, whom was created to cultivate a personality. For immortals, however? No, there is a weird incarnation of some energy in this world of Zuti’s and Shao Wan’s that hasn’t been addressed on this blog that became a sentient being. 

"When a god dies, even at the end of the candle, the godly body will keep a shred of power to heal and protect its immortal shell. But when Shao Wan burned down the Ruo Mu Door with the fire of nirvana, she gave all her power to me, and didn't even keep that shred of strength to protect her immortal body. Therefore, when I sacrifice myself to the chaos, there will be a shred of spirit left behind." She heard that her voice was somewhat hoarse in front of this man in front of her that she could not see the face of clearly. "That shred of spirit will turn into a red lotus seed. Zhao Xi, send that red lotus seed back to the realm of the gods at that time, and give it to High God Mo Yuan."

Later on in the scene: 

The young man was silent for a moment, and asked: "Then, who is this shred of spirit, or who will it become? You, or Lord Shao Wan?"

She heard herself say faintly: "She will be her, not me, and not Shao Wan. She will cultivate into herself, and become the Flower Master of the new age."

        So, to address it - we don’t believe in either theory mentioned in this ask. Just that Bai Qian and Mo Yuan had a strong master and student connection that is mentioned in text with how close to him she is. Shao Wan, by that point in the timeline had been gone for a couple hundred thousand years, so of course he will be shaken up by the sudden mention of her. It’s really the drama’s fault the weird fueling of believing Mo Yuan was intended to be the Male Lead. Yehua was always intended for that position, Mo Yuan was always meant to be someone Bai Qian would give her life for in the platonic sense. Which both Li Jing and Yehua never understood that it was only platonic at their respectful times until later addressed / figured out. 

        Bai Qian will always love her master turned brother-in-law; but only as a dear mentor and family member. 

[fuckingthefictional]

Cross my heart- Part 18

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OFC, John Shelby (platonic) x OFC

Warnings: mention of sexual assault, vomiting, injuries, not proofread, swearing, idk.

A/N: This chapter is way overdue- either way enjoy it. Would appreciate some feedback too!

Previous//Next

“Fuck this.” Eliza groaned, “I hate being sick.”

It really wasn’t how she planned her morning to go- bent over on her knees, cheek pressed up against the toilet bowl and acidic bile crawling up her throat.

“I hate this.” She spoke again. It was true she hated being sick- it reminded her of too many negative experiences.

Sickness reminded her of two main things. How ill her mother was in the weeks leading up to her death. And the amount of weakness that Eliza remembered feeling when she was injured and sick in the rehabilitation house.

She gagged as more vomit splashed into the toilet, “Did I mention that I-“

“Hate this?” John butted in, “Yeah only 5000 times.”

Eliza could tell that John was acting different, he had a look in his eyes and an expression on his face that showed he was thinking deeply (Something that they always joked about not happening that often.)

But before she could ask about what was on his mind, she promptly lurched over the toilet bowl and emptied the rest of the contents in her stomach into the loo.

She felt John holding her hair away from her face, and rubbing her back soothingly.

Eliza, although thankful for her friends actions, wished more than anything that it could have been Tommy that stood in John’s spot.

But Tommy had gone to the races with Grace, Arthur and a few of the other Peaky boys.

She wouldn’t lie, but the sight of Tommy leaving her room that morning to go and pick up Grace made her stomach lurch with jealousy.

No matter how many times the notorious gang leader reassured her that he was still “seeing her” strictly for business purposes only.

But Eliza couldn’t help but feel doubt, she knew Grace was a pretty girl- some days she felt as if she wasn’t enough compared to the blonde.

Her jealousy and self doubt was eating her up inside- and it really didn’t help with her nausea.

“Liza?” John’s voice was small. Something that was completely out of character for him to be.

Eliza was used to John being boisterous, loud and cocky.

But rarely did she see him be small or nervous or even particularly remotely serious. Not unless there was something wrong.

“Something wrong- you’re never like this.” Eliza croaked.

John visibly gulped and took a deep breath, “Liza you’ve been ill for almost 2 weeks.” He lingered slightly, “that’s not normal.”

Eliza frowned slightly under his gaze, “I probably have the flu,” she laughed nervously, “It’s not a big deal.”

He just sighed again, “Liza I’m known as the dumb Shelby- and even I know you don’t have the flu.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, “Well I’d like to see you come up with a better diagnoses.”

“No Eliza you don’t understand!” He looked as if he was getting frustrated, “I’ve had a wife and 4 kids yea’?”

She nodded, “Right- and...?”

John ran a hand through his hair, “and that means I’m familiar with what morning sickness looks like.”

“What the hell are you implying!” Eliza stood up from her place on the floor. The world spun for a second but she soon felt her feet plant firmly on the bathroom floor.

“Look all ‘m sayin’ is that there’s a rather big fuckin’ chance that you’re pregnant.”

Eliza didn’t reply, her brain was too busy trying to even process the possibility of her being with child.

The thought made her feel dizzy and sick, everything started to become fuzzy and it felt as if her body was shutting down.

The last thing she remembered was John’s worried face before she felt her body hit the floor and pain spike in her head. And everything fazed into darkness.

//

At first the plan went smoothly, Tommy had snuck himself and Grace into the races and had not been caught or removed from the premises.

He had started to do business with Kimber’s associate as Grace twirled around with the ‘King’ himself.

Tommy knew that Grace wasn’t happy with the fact that he had practically sold her off to another man in order to do business.

But the world was cruel and so was Tommy, he knew that he was damn well going to pave his way through that world until he became successful- even if that meant breaking a few spies’ hearts along the way.

“Oi Shelby!” Kimber’s nasally voice infiltrated his thoughts. Tommy looked up to see Kimber stood next to Grace, and arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

Grace looked uncomfortable, but Tommy didn’t care- she was the one that was planning on destroying his family.

She practically did this to herself, she took this opportunity and he was in no way liable for whatever happened to the girl.

That was his thought pattern anyway- head over heart.

“I’ll cut you a deal, as long as you throw in your pretty little side piece for an hour or two.” Kimber’s hand was held out in front of him, ready to make a deal.

Tommy knew what he was doing, so he shook the mans hand. Game on.

//

It had only been an hour, Tommy had Kimber’s wife in the back of his car.

Apparently Kimber assumed they were swapping the women ‘round so Tommy got some fun out of it too.

Tommy hadn’t touched the women, he half-heartedly listened as she waffled on about her hat and her life before she’d met Kimber.

But his own thoughts consumed his mind, he felt a dull ache in his chest. He felt guilty. His heart was getting the best of him.

He had just set Grace up in the same position that Eliza had been in weeks prior.

Tommy didn’t like Grace, in fact he quite frankly despised her, but he knew the damage it did to Eliza- she’d be so disappointed and betrayed by his actions.

He didn’t want to lose Eliza and if that meant saving Grace then so be it. He couldn’t lose Eliza. He refused.

“Fuck.”

//

“Miss Fenton?”

The voice was unfamiliar and sounded disembodied. Eliza couldn’t find any recollection of the voice or it’s owner.

“Miss Fenton?”

Whoever it was spoke again.

She desperately wanted to open her eyes, but her lids were heavy and felt like they weighed a tonne.

The antiseptic smell made Eliza want to vomit, it made her heart tremble as memories began to flash around her mind. They were fuzzy and her head couldn’t remember them properly. But it made her feel ill.

Eliza felt her body lurch as vomit crawled up her throat. Her eyes snapped open as she struggled to contain herself.

She could feel someone rubbing her back and holding her hair away from her face, when she’d looked over to see who it was- Eliza found herself in shock.

“John?” She squeaked, her voice still hoarse, “You came back, y-you made it home!” Eliza’s eyes pricked with tears.

John looked absolutely heartbroken, he glanced over at who Eliza assumed was a doctor.

“Did the war end?” Eliza was so confused, her surroundings weren’t like the ones in France. It was cleaner and from the window she could see the old Brummie streets that she was familiar with.

“What happened?” John asked the doctor, “What the hell is wrong with her?” It sounded as if his voice was on the verge of breaking.

The doctor cleared his throat, “It appears that during the fall she may have hit her head- it could have caused a form of amnesia.” He looked guiltily at the girl in the bed.

“And...” John silently questioned.

“She’s still pregnant- she landed on her back, the impact wasn’t enough for her to miscarry.”

“What?” Eliza frantically sat up, “What do you mean pregnant- I’m not pregnant! I haven’t slept with anyone since I was shipped off to France!”

The doctor left the room, leaving John and Eliza alone.

Eliza was a sobbing mess- how could she possibly be pregnant?

“John tell me that he’s joking- I’m not pregnant?”

He sighed and held his head in his hands, “Liza- you...” John paused trying to choose the best words to proceed with, “You had an accident this morning- you were sick and fainted. You hit your head on the corner of the bathroom counter- the doctor said you might have some form of memory loss.”

“But I- I.” Eliza was rendered silent.

“Eliza...It’s 1919- nearly 20.” John broke the news, “the war’s been over for nearly two years- we’re back in Small Heath.”

She felt as if she was going insane- Eliza didn’t want to believe that she’d lost her memory.

She felt fine for the most part. Well, aside for the fact that she’d just found out she was pregnant and couldn’t remember who it was with.

Eliza took a shallow breath, “John...tell me honestly- am I pregnant?”

“Yea’, yea’ you are.” John looked at her straight in the eyes, “The doctors confirmed this mornin’ that you were.”

The young woman, couldn’t believe it. That there was a life growing within her. A human- her baby.

Her hand subconsciously slid to her midsection, and to Eliza’s surprise she found a tiny bump. It made tears fall at an even quicker rate.

The moment was interrupted, when the door was shoved open and in walked a tall, dark haired man. He was handsome, and had a dark suit on.

He look familiar-but Eliza couldn’t place her finger on where she knew him from.

“Tom- You can’t be in ‘ere...not right now.” Eliza’s friend attempted to push him out of the room.

But ‘Tom’ pushed back, he seemed determined to stay in the room for some odd reason.

“Tommy,” John gritted, “She won’t remember you- she’s lost half ‘er fuckin’ memories.”

Eliza didn’t know what to say- it was true. She didn’t remember or know him, his eyes felt familiar and they made her feel safe. But why? She didn’t know.

Tommy just looked numb- his mouth gaped and his eyes full of pain. He turned on his heel and left.

Why did the world want to shoot them down time and time again? Why couldn’t he just have one simple thing that made him happy? Was he that much of a fuck up?

The world was cruel, and he might’ve lost the one thing that he loved most- and he never even got to tell her.

He was in love.

CMH Taglist: @peachy-aisha @eternallyvenus @marvelschriss @annabethgranger123 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @shadow-of-wonder @affection-rabbit @itzmegaaaaaaan @tscamander

[gentlethorns]

1-31

JKJFLKJGDKLS did you mean. 1 through 31?? like. all of them?? LMFAOOOOOO okay but i’m sticking them under a readmore bc that is gonna be SO long

1. what is a genre you love reading but will probably never write? mysteries/crime. i love the technique and expertise it takes to expertly lay out and set up a plot twist, but i don’t think i could ever do it aptly myself.

2. which writer has had the greatest stylistic influence on your writing? probably stephen king, if we’re talking fiction, but even then i don’t think he’s influenced me a ton - my writing voice is pretty distinctive (or so i’ve been told). as far as poetry, i think reading @candiedspit‘s work has really caused me to stretch my expectations of where words can go and what they can do.

3. has a specific song/lyric ever inspired a work of art for you? absolutely! i’m super inspired by music, bc music is really important to me as a means of emotional expression. back in sophomore year of high school i was working on a story where all the chapters were inspired by songs from folie a deux by fall out boy. it didn’t pan out and i never finished it, but i still think the concept was neat.

4. a writer whose personal lifestyle really speaks to you? lmfao not to talk about him again, but stephen king’s lifestyle really appeals to me. his writing is widely known and renowned, but he just chills at home and watches the red sox games and takes pictures of his corgi and keeps turning out stories. that literally sounds like paradise to me.

5. do you write both prose and poetry? which do you prefer? i do write both! and i can’t say i honestly prefer one over the other - my interest bounces between them and waxes and wanes, but i don’t consistently indulge one more than the other, i don’t think. last year i went through a huge fiction phase in october and cranked out eight or nine different short stories/flash pieces, and then in november/december i went through a poetry phase and wrote multiple poems a day for a long stretch of time. it just depends on my mood and my mindset and what i need from writing (a kind of escape vs. emotional expression/release).

6. do you read both prose and poetry? which do you prefer? i do read both, and again, i don’t think i have a preference. i definitely read fiction more, i think, but like writing, it kind of depends what i need at the time.

7. which language do you write in? which do you want to write in someday? i write in english, since it’s the only language i know. i’d like to learn spanish at some point, but i don’t know if i could ever write in spanish - i’m so firmly married to english grammar and structure that i don’t know if i could ever exercise the same control and mastery over spanish that i could english.

8. share a quote or verse that has been on your mind lately. “you said i killed you - haunt me, then!” from wuthering heights.

9. a writer/poet whose life you find interesting. *sigh*. stephen king. i’ve read his memoir/writing workshop book (”on writing”) and his success story always fascinates me. i just can’t imagine living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment with your wife and two kids and working days at an industrial laundromat and spending nights writing on a shitty wobbly desk in the laundry room, and you get your first manuscript accepted for publication, and eventually the paperback rights go up and you think you might get $60,000 if you’re really lucky, and then one day while your wife and kids are visiting the in-laws you get a call from your agent telling you that the paperback rights for your book sold for $400,000 and 200K of it is yours. that’s just literally. unfathomable to me lmfao.

10. what do you feel about the idea of someone unearthing your unseen or discarded drafts someday, long after your death? what about your personal journal? it’s really hard for me to imagine that happening, i think bc i tend to see myself as really like. insignificant or unimportant in the grand scheme of things, so i can’t imagine any part of me lasting beyond my life. also, it’s very hard for me to imagine someone i don’t know personally reading my work, probably because my work (especially a personal journal) is a window into me, and i have a hard time even letting people i trust see into that window sometimes, much less a stranger.

11. do you prefer to write in silence or listen to something? what do you listen to? i definitely prefer music in the background, although i can work in silence. i tend to gravitate to music that goes with the scene i’m writing, if i’m writing fiction (often i work music into my fiction, so if there’s a song playing in the scene, i’ll listen to that song), and if i’m writing poetry i tend to just listen to laid-back music (unless i’m writing from a place of grief or sadness, in which case i listen to sad music lmfao). i do also love writing when it’s storming outside and just listening to the rain and the thunder as i write.

12. has an image ever impacted your artistic lens/inspired your work? absolutely! less often than music, but visuals can inspire me on occasion. i once wrote a poem based on this image. i just couldn’t get it out of my head, so i decided to figure out what it was saying to me.

13. how would you describe the experience of writing itself? as in putting the words to paper, not planning or moodboards etc. do you agree with the common idea that the satisfaction lies in reading your work after you are done with it, rather than the process of writing itself? i think the process can be arduous sometimes, and other times it can be incredible. sometimes i write very slowly and haltingly, sometimes i write at a normal pace and it feels like the work it is (bc i am trying to write professionally), but sometimes the magic tap in the mind turns on and it starts flowing. that being said, i don’t necessarily agree that the satisfaction lies only in reading your work rather than also in the process. there’s a certain fulfillment in watching everything come together and knowing it’s going to be good.

14. how often do you write? it varies. i would like to write more often than i do, now that i have a full-time school schedule and work part time friday-sunday, but i think i still get a decent amount of writing done, when i can actually sit down and motivate myself to get the words out.

15. how disciplined are you about your writing? not very, in the creative sense - as discussed above, i don’t write as often as i should/would like to, and don’t hold myself to much of a schedule. however, as far as the business side of it (submitting to magazines/contests), i’m pretty disciplined, and i’m usually pretty good about keeping all my “good” pieces in circulation at a couple of places at a time.

16. what was your last long-lasting spurt of motivation? maybe last night? i worked on a couple of pieces and then submitted a few groups of poems to some magazines. i also did some decent work on thursday while i was in my campus starbucks waiting for my zoom class to start.

17. have you ever been professionally published? are you trying to be? i have been professionally published! i got my first acceptance back in 2018, and now i’ve had poetry published multiple times and fiction published twice. i’m still trying to publish more of my work, but i think i’ve had a decent start.

18. do you read literary magazines? not regularly, although i entered a fiction contest for into the void last year, and since it came with a year-long subscription, i’ve been browsing the fiction there periodically. into the void tends to publish good short/flash fiction, so anytime i feel like reading some new stories, i head there.

19. a lesser known writer you adore? idk if she’s necessarily “lesser-known,” but i loved ally carter’s gallagher girl series when i was younger. the first four books were immaculate (although i do remember that the last two books seemed almost unnecessary, and the ultimate end of the series was anticlimactic).

20. do you write short stories? do you read them? i write and read them! up until october of last year i could never figure out how to write a short story and effectively resolve a conflict in 5000 words or less, but then suddenly (like. literally overnight), a switch flipped in my head and i could do it. as far as reading them, i don’t read a ton anymore bc of my busy schedule ( :( ), so sometimes if i’m in the mood to read i’ll opt for a short story online or a book of short stories instead of a full-length novel.

21. do you prefer to involve yourself with literary history and movements or are you more focused on the writing itself? any favourite literary movements? i’m typically more focused on the writing itself, although i do love to learn about the horror boom from the 50s-80s (if that counts as a literary movement lmfao). i also do particularly love work from the era of deconstructionism, which i think took place in like. the 40s-60s, if i’m not mistaken. i enjoy that era bc of its symbolism and abstract nature - a lot of the work leaves the reader to draw their own conclusions.

22. are you working on anything right now? not particularly? i have a few works in progress that i tinker with now and then, but i’m not seriously working on anything in particular.

23. how did you get started with writing? i honestly don’t even remember. i remember the first time i realized that i really liked writing and had fun doing it (in fourth grade, for a school competition), but i know that even before then i was writing stories and poems.

24. do you have any “writer friends”? most of my mutuals are writer friends! but i don’t have any irl. i almost made one in my math class last semester, but we lost contact when our university shut down in march.

25. what is your earliest work you can remember? the earliest work i can remember is when i was really young (maybe like. five or six?). it was about our dog being pregnant (which she was at the time) and able to talk (which she was not).

26. have you found your writer’s voice yet? does your work have a distinct tone? absolutely. i’m very confident in my style and the distinctiveness of my voice - it’s been there pretty much since i first started writing. i’ve improved since then, honed my voice and made it more sophisticated and effective, but at the core, it’s still me, like it always has been.

27. do your works share themes/are commonly about certain topics? or are your subjects all over the place? in poetry, i think i tend to write about grief or loss of some sort or another often, bc it’s something i tend to feel often - either that or a false bravado (but ig that’s more of a tonal device). as far as fiction, i like to write about religion gone wrong (false religion, religion as a front for personal gain and corruption, religion gone too deep into obsession and mania, etc.), and i like smart underdog-type characters that fight and have a lot of grit to them.

28. what does writing mean to you? to me, writing is catharsis, a bloodletting. this particularly applies to poetry, but it also applies to fiction. poetry shows you the things you’re regurgitating up-front, but fiction does it slyly, in a mirror or through a distorting lens. regardless, both stand to offer release and healing.

29. in an alternate universe, imagine you had not found writing. what do you think would be your fixation otherwise? honestly, i’m not sure. probably acting or theater. something creative, for sure.

30. do you feel defined by your work? maybe a little, but not to a large or limiting extent. like, in a new class, my interesting fact about myself will probably always be “i’m a writer and i’ve been published a few times,” but i think that i’m a well-rounded person and that once people get to know me, my writing is just a part of me, not my whole identity.

31. have you ever written/considered writing under a pen name? if you would be okay saying, why? no, i don’t think i have. while a pen name can be a good tool, depending on your goals and what you’re writing, i have a Thing about getting credit where i’m due credit lmfao. i don’t think i’ll ever use a pen name bc if i know something i do is good, i want my name on it.

[syncopatedid]

Kazetsuyo Novel Translation: Excerpt from Chapter 4: Track Meet

(Pages 170-173):

As the Tokyo Sports U track meet drew close, Kakeru’s mood was steadily rising in anticipation.

It’s been a while since he had competed in a real race. But even though Kakeru was confident he had covered his training very thoroughly, his mind would start to wander every night before falling asleep: Would running into a former acquaintance unsettle him and affect his concentration during the race? Had his race instincts gotten dull that he’d miscalculate his strategies? Could his time record which had gained him much attention back on his high school track team even pass for a college-level standard?

As soon as he closed his eyes, negative thoughts would surface one after another. Restless, Kakeru threw his blanket aside and sat up on his futon. 

Suppressing his urge to immediately get out of bed to go jogging, he adjusted his breathing in the darkness of his room.

“Be patient… be patient…”  Kakeru told himself.

Don’t think about anything else. Just picture yourself running. Feel the movement of your muscles throughout your body. Keep moving forward… 

Rekindling that fire, his doubts evaporated into thin air. Like Nira waiting to be taken for its walks, Kakeru was feeling eager again.

Aside from practice, Kakeru was also properly attending his lectures at the university. Kiyose had rationalised that “one cannot possibly produce results in running if they can’t even fulfil their credits”, but because Kakeru was fully committed to his training, he had been repeatedly turning down invites to mixers and gatherings. As for Chikusei-so’s other occupants, they were making a concerted effort to hit the qualifying time as well; as soon as school was done for the day, they would all head back to the apartment without delay to work on their runs.

So it didn’t take long before word of their activity started to spread—not only was the shopping street abuzz with chatter, even the students at the university got to talking: “It seems that those guys from that run-down apartment are training very hard for a race.”

The day before the Tokyo Sports U track meet, Kakeru had asked a favour of a friend who was in the same foreign language studies class to answer roll call on his behalf. 

“What, you’re taking a break tomorrow, Kurahara?”

"I’ll be running in the track meet, so…”

“Ah… speaking of that, I hear you’re aiming for the marathon, right?”

“It’s not a marathon…”

The ekiden is what I’m aiming for, and tomorrow’s track meet is the 5000-metre run, Kakeru thought to himself, but did not bother to clarify. 

Kakeru had come to realise a fact when he started university, that those who have no ties to track and field wouldn’t know the difference between a marathon and an ekiden. And when it came to the track meet, some would even look surprised and laugh it off as a joke. “5000 metres? Isn’t that just running in circles around the track?” they’d tease, as if it were some sort of bizarre ritual.

To Kakeru, track is life. To most others, however, a track meet is just another boring race.

The truth was a harsh reality, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a little complacent.

I guess not everyone can understand how big a deal it is and why we’ve been training so hard every day…

Hence with the present conversation, Kakeru was able to smile and casually gloss over the details. 

“Well… think of it as a condensed version of a marathon. Anyway, I’m counting on you, thanks.” 

“Just leave it to me!  Go get ‘em, champ!”

His friend had the sincerest expression on his face. Even though he might not understand Kakeru’s ambitions, Kakeru could tell he was cheering him on from the bottom of his heart.

That night, Kakeru could barely fall asleep. His rest was shallow, and his mind, sharp and alert. This is fine, Kakeru thought as he drifted in and out of sleep, sensing the last of his lingering doubts dissipating. After tonight, his transformation will be complete, and his body and mind will be in a state that is ready to run. 

He was feeling it—that feeling he had pretended he’d forgotten all this time—his fighting spirit before a race. 

————————————————–

Footnotes:

- And Kakeru’s uni friend makes his cameo! I’ve mentioned in this post before, I was really quite heartened to read that Kakeru seems to have other friends aside from the Aotake squad (he does get invited along to mixers and parties after all), so I do read novel Kakeru as someone who’s less emo than anime! Kakeru, and radiates a kind of “sports jock” vibe that draws people to him even if he’s not exactly proactive at making friends. Besides, he was asking this friend to help him tell a white lie, so I guess that takes a certain level of established trust?

The exact word they used in the original was “Yuujin” (友情), which is a formal word for “friend”, but even though this friend isn’t written as a “Nakama” (仲間) or even has a name to his credit, I do feel the choice of words over “classmate”( クラスメイト ) or “acquaintance”（知り合い… which, btw, was the word used in this excerpt in reference to Sakaki), hints that this guy could still be a good friend despite them not being on a first-name basis. I am reminded of the “Yuujin” in Natsume Yuujinchou and I draw the impression from Takashi’s close friendships with his normie friends, despite all of them still addressing one another by their family names. So let me just have this nice little headcanon that Kakeru sees this friend the same way as well, okay? :*)  

-  I’m also pretty delighted to learn that Kakeru takes a class in foreign language studies! Since he’s in the Sociology department, I would assume the guy could be taking (cross-faculty?) modules from the linguistics department that are relevant to his area of study, maybe Language & Culture? The question is, are we talking foreign languages in general, or is his module more focused on a particular language? If it’s the latter, my headcanon would default to the English language, since that seems like the most “useful” language for a Japanese to study, and Kakeru feels like the type who would opt for practical subjects that would be more applicable to the working world, compared to say, maybe Haiji or Akane, who might have deeper appreciation for languages as lit majors (or maybe Kakeru does appreciate them to a small extent, but they are secondary compared to his overwhelming love for track, idk.) But anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself here cuz the modules you take as a first-year are mostly introduction modules and are pretty rudimentary, lol. Freshman year is still the honeymoon period, you know.

- p.s: Haiji says to attend your lectures properly so you can win all the races, m’kay? #ThisHasBeenAPSA 

[lovemychoices]

Playing with Fire - RoD AU [Colt x MC] - Ch.2 2/2

Book: Ride or Die

Once upon a time, an angel fell for a devil and they called it true love. -J.P.D

Kaela Matsuo didn’t think she would fall in love with someone during her senior year of highschool it was the last thing on her mind but then she met Colt while hanging out with Logan and everything changed. After taking down Jason and saying their heartbreaking goodbyes will Kaela and Colt ever find a way back to each other again? And if they do are they ready to face new obstacles together?

Characters except my OCs belong to Pixelberry, I am just borrowing them.

Word count : 5000+++

Chapter Summary: Kaela tries to forget Colt the only way she knows how.

A/N : Sorry it’s been months since this series has been updated and to be honest IDK when the next chapter will be up. Sorry for any grammatical error I didn’t have the time to do edits.

Warning/Triggers : Alcohol and Drug abuse. [Make sure you’re 18 years old and above if you read this]

catch up with the series here

Song Inspiration: Signals in Smoke - Coming up for air

How long can you wait

To breathe deep

How long can you stay

Underneath

It's hard to believe

But I know your heart still beats

Rise on up baby

Don't need eyes to see

Later that night, Kaela followed the direction of the address that Riya texted her which lead to a gated mansion somewhere in the hills but she couldn’t hear or see any signs of a party.

Confused she double checks the address on her GPS System. “This should be the right place?” She murmured to herself. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

A loud knock on her window causes her to jolt in her seat. She looks the drivers window and sees a man with strong build body wearing a crisp black suit. She cautiously rolls down her window a little.

“You lost or something miss?” The man asked eyeing her curiously.

“Um.. I’m here for a party at Mike’s place?” She answered showing the digital invite on her phone. The man takes a look at the screen taking his own phone from his pocket and started scanning the barcode on Kaela’s invite.

INVITE VALID

He gives her an approving nod and the gates in front of her open. She lets out a sigh of relief then nods back at him and quickly puts her gear into drive.

As she drives through the estate she sees a few dimly lit lamp posts and perfectly trimmed hedges. A little while after she could hear the faint sound of music playing in the background. In the driveway a bunch of expensive sports cars parked next to a two storey modern mansion.

Wow! This is where Mike lives? She checks herself in the rear-view mirror then heaves a sigh. You can do this it’s just one night out. Kaela felt like she needed something to calm her nerves so she reaches out to open her dashboard taking out an orange prescription bottle labeled Xanax on it which she had bought from one of her classmates a month ago. “Fuck! I’m all out.” She muttered throwing her head back on the headrest then glance towards mansion.

Maybe they’ll have something in there. Rich people always have the best prescription pills.

As she approaches the top step, a housekeeper opens the front door. Loud party noise and music blasted out as she enters, she felt like she was in some sort of fraternity party. People were dancing around consumed by the music around them, to the right a group of people cheering on a few guys doing a keg stand challenged.

I need to find the master bath, it must be somewhere upstairs.

“Kaela! Kaela over here!” Riya calls out with her hands waved in the air, quickly walking over to where Kaela was standing. “Omg, I’m so glad you decide to come!” She beamed excitedly giving Kaela a hug. “Come on, let's head outside by the pool, I have a few friends I want to introduce you to.”

Before Kaela can protest Riya takes her hand and guides her along the crowd to the middle of the living area and through the back door where a large swimming pool was located next to the house.

“Everyone, Kaela. Kaela, everyone.” Riya introduces her to a few people sitting by the pool.

“Hey Kaela!” Everyone greets in unison. “Hi…” Kaela smiles giving a sheepish wave. One of the girls stood up and hugged her excitedly taking Kaela by surprise. She pulls back a few moments later. “So nice to finally meet you, we always wondered when we were going to meet this mysterious Kaela, Riya’s always talking about. I’m Jane by the way.”

“Really Riya talks about me a lot?” She asked cocking and eyebrow at Riya.

Riya chuckles. “Only the good stuff I promise!” Kaela shakes her head and grabs a beer from the chiller next to her and twisting the cap open and has a sip before taking a seat next to Riya

“So does Mike have these parties all the time? Where is he anyway? I didn’t see him on the way in.”

Will snorts. “Probably inside entertaining the ladies, lucky bastard.”

The DJ starts to play a song Riya excitedly jump from her seat. “Oh I love this song!” She exclaims taking Kaela’s hand. “Common Kaela time to let loose and dance all your troubles away.”

Riya and the others danced moving their body as the music plays not missing a beat. Kaela watches stiff at first, she can’t remember the last time she danced like that. “Kaela don’t just stand there!” Riya said as she swayed from side to side.

“I’m gonna need more alcohol if I’m going to get through this.” She mutterd under her breath.

She quickly grabs a few glasses of neon shots from people nearby downing them in one go. Soon enough the alcohol starts to kick in, her body loosens, she starts swaying her hips to the sound of the music. For that brief moment she felt all her pain and sorrow being suppressed. She continues to dance letting the hours pass by, not stopping until suddenly the DJ plays a familiar song.

***

Flash back here…

Kaela takes in the electric colours, blacklight illuminated the ravers neon clothing. Drinks glow blue, pink and purple against the darkness. It was her first time going to a rave and it wasn’t like she had expected. She glanced down to see the colours on her clothes she borrowed from Mona how they brilliantly under the luminous lighting. Her eyes go wide opened and beamed. “Wow it’s like I’m radioactive!”

“You’re welcome.” Mona gave her a playful wink.

The group stood at the back as they watched other people dance around. “So what do we do?” Kaela asked.

“What do we do? We dance!” Mona answered with a smirk.

“Yeah. But like… how?”

Ximena chuckles. “However you want Hun. do what feels good, don’t overthink it.”

Mona sways sensually to the music, Toby jumps up and down. Salazar moves to an open spot at the dance floor and breaks into an energetically sequence of sliding and foot pumping. “And that’s called the Melbourne shuffle.” He beamed. The crew applauds and laugh. Even Logan shakes his head for smiles. He can feel his phone vibrate and excuses himself for a bit leaving Kaela and Colt alone while the others were off busy dancing.

Let's dance in style, let's dance for a while

Heaven can wait we're only watching the skies

Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst

Are you gonna drop the bomb or not?

Let us die young or let us live forever

We don't have the power, but we never say never

Sitting in a sandpit, life is a short trip

The music's for the sad man

“Oh! I love this song!” She beamed excitedly. “Come on, Colt!”

Colt hesitated looking at the rest of the crew doing their thing. “I.. don’t really dance.”

Kaela chuckles. “Me neither. Now come on!” She quickly took Colt’s hand before he could protest. Lacing their fingers together she leads him away out of sight from the rest of the crew.

Colt pulled her body close to his and tilted her chin face up to look at him, his lips curled up into a grin. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t been waiting to get you to myself today. Just follow my lead.” He turned her around so her back is facing his then lightly touches her waist, they both swayed effortlessly to the beat. In time with the pulsating beat he pushes her away then pulled her back closer this time with her face inches away from his. “Is Logan watching?”

“Why do you care if he does?” She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Is it bad that a part of me wants him to?” He grinned.

“I’m not some possession for you two to fight over, Colt. I’m an actual person.”

“You’re not.. you’re more than that Kaela. At least to me you are.”

“What am I to you Colt?” Colt paused for a moment, they both stopped for a moment in the middle of the crowd of people dancing. He tucks a strand of Kaela’s loose hair to the back of her ear, she can see passion in his eyes as he looks at her. Colt leans in until his lips are just a breath away from hers, “You’re my driver forever, Kaela.”

She pushed her hands through Colt’s hair, bringing his mouth to hers.In that moment they both forget about everything and everyone in the room, even the loud music starts to fade into the background as they drown in each others kiss.

***

Present day..

Can you imagine when this race is won?

Turn our golden the faces into the sun

Praising our leaders, we're getting in tune

The music's played by the, the madman.

Forever young

I want to be forever young

Do you really want to live forever?

Forever, and ever.

That song, it was the song that she and Colt danced to at Hyrieus a year ago. Kaela could feel her heart beating fast and loudly as all the memories of that night with Colt replayed in her head. Suddenly the pain and sorrow comes crashing back at her, she felt like she was suffocating. “I need to get out of here.” Kaela pants and quickly pushed her way through the crowd walking up a flight of stairs leading to the first floor corridor.

She tries to open every door she comes across but each one she found was always locked until eventually one opens. She enters to what seems like the master bedroom and without a second thought saunters directly towards the bathroom.

Kaela stands in front of the mirror, hands pressed on the sink leaning with her head down. She closes her eyes and began reciting the same words repeatedly in her head. Breathe in one two three, breathe out three two one. ”Fuck this isn’t working.” She muttered under her breath, her eyes moves towards the Medicine cabinet in front of her.

Maybe there’s something in here that will.

She opens it and starts rummaging through. Lets see few dental flosses, vitamins, health supplements. Urgh where’s the good stuff?

She finally got her hands an orange prescription bottle, she took a look at the description labeled OXYCODONE one time daily or when needed. BINGO! Without even hesitating she popped the bottle open taking one pill and quickly putting it in her mouth swallowing it, later filling up a glass of water and drinking it all in one go. Kaela that the perception bottle from the sink counter top and shoves it in her purse, adjusting her messy hair before heading out.

She slowly closes the door behind her, failing to notice someone standing right outside she bumps right into them.

“Woah, careful!” Someone said catching her by the arm as she stammers back surprised, she looks up and sees a familiar face. “Mike, when did you get here?”

“Um.. I live here, it’s my party remember? What are you doing all the way up here?” He answers cocking an eyebrow.

“I um… needed to find the bathroom but got lost. Big house you got here.” She replied nervously. “But you know I succeeded in finding one so all good.”

“Good to know.” He chuckles then folds his arms scanning Kaela head to toe. “Listen, I’m heading up to the rooftop garden to get some air. You could join me if you want?”

“You have a rooftop garden?” Kaela thought for a moment before giving a half shrug.“Sure why not? I need to get some air anyway.”

Mike took her up another flight of stairs, he opened the door which lead to a beautiful rooftop garden.It had a miniature garden with pebble stones lining the pathway on one side and on the other side an outside bar with a hot tub overlooking the view of the neighborhood. Kaela’s eyes go wide open. “Wow! This is your rooftop? It’s amazing!”q

“You can thank my interior designer for that it was her vision. So have a seat anywhere you want.”

Kaela climbs on top edge of the roof and takes a seat at the edge, her legs dangling from above. She could see the pool right below her and the view of the landscape in front of her.

“This view is amazing. No offense but how’d you end up with a place like this? I thought you only owned a gym.”

Mike runs his hands through his hair. “Well not just a gym, I have few others all over California. Most of my clients big shot politics and A list celebrities. Plus my family is rich.”

Kaela snorts. “No kidding.”

“I’m serious..My last name is actually West.”

Kaela chokes a little when she hears the name. “As in West industries? They’re like multimillionaires?” Mike silently nods then looks away. “So... Why run a gym instead of being some big hot shot CEO?”

Mike shrugged at her question. “I didn’t really want to go into the family business. I’ve spent my whole life having my father tell me what I’m supposed to be and I’ve always felt so suffocated, you know? It wasn’t until I lost everything I ever cared about that I decided enough is enough.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. I definitely know what it’s like to have a parent expect you to be someone you’re not.”

“Strike one of something we have in common.” He smirked. “I’m keeping score to see how compatible we are. You know for future reference.” He explains and gives a playful wink.

Kaela chuckles. “That’s a really interesting way of keeping score. Does it always work?”

“Most of the time.”

There was an awkward silence between them for a few seconds. Shit is he thinking of kissing me? Please don’t You’re going to ruin the moment. Mike starts to lean in, trying to close the gap between them, he was obviously going to kiss her. Kaela tilts her head down a look of regret written on her face. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. You’re a really nice guy Mike, but I just got out of a serious relationship and I’m just not ready.”

Mike leans back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I didn’t know. How long have the two of you been broken up?”

“We didn’t Break up. He—. He—.” She fumbled trying to form the words. Take deep breaths and exhale slowly Kaela. ”He was involved in an accident about 3 months, he didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry to hear about that, believe me I know what it’s like losing someone you love. To have them suddenly ripped from you.” He seethes, Kaela noticed his jaw clenched and his hands ball into a fist.

“Who was she?” She asked, Mike turns to look at her, his expression a mixture between sad and confused. “When you said you lost everything you cared about earlier. I’m assuming it has to do with someone you cared about.”

“She was.. Someone I met in college sophomore year. She was the most kind and beautiful person I have ever met. We started dating a few months after knowing each other then it went from that to being in a relationship for the next 5 years.” Mike paused for a moment he fidget with a silver ring on his finger. Kaela could barely make out the words engraved on the ring but it has the initials M&K.

“You know the night of the accident we were supposed to spend the weekend at one of my family's estates in the mountains. I had this whole plan to propose to her.” He paused again with regret written on his face. “But I got held back at work, so I told her I’d have someone pick her up she could head up there first and I would catch up later. A few hours later I got a call from the police…..”

As Mike told Kaela about the night his girlfriend got into a car accident, voices of that night she got the call from Ximena regarding Colt’s accident starts replaying in her head.

“Kaela honey, I wish I was calling you under different circumstances and I’m sorry to be the one telling you this but—.”

“But what X? You need to tell me.”

“It’s about Colt. He’s.. He’s been in an accident and he didn’t make it.”

“Kaela. Hey Kaela you alright?”

She is slowly pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Mike’s voice.

“Are you alright?”

“I uh… yeah. I’m fine.” She mentions, tucking strand of loose hair to the back of her ear.

“Anyway the trick is to focus on something that will make you forget. For me it was martial arts, I got to channel all my anger into someplace else. Who knows, it might be for you too. Whenever you ready just give me a call.”

He handed her his business card and she takes it, giving him a weak smile.

“We should probably head back to the party. Riya might be worried and looking for you.”

Mike slowly got up and steps away from the edge, he stretched out his hand to Kaela.

“You coming?”

“Uh… Yeah. Hey you go ahead I’ll be right behind you.”

When Mike wasn’t looking she quickly popped another piece of pill into her mouth, closing her eyes and taking deeps breaths she could feel the pill start to kick in.

Maybe this is just what I need.

*****

In the weeks to come Kaela’s night were filled with parties endless drinking and getting high, anything to make her forget. She was sick of feeling miserable, she was sick of crying herself to sleep at night. This felt like the easiest way out to her. She did a pretty good job at hiding it from her friends and family though. Since she only hung out with Riya a few times a month and visit her dad once a month, nobody took notice in her sudden change of lifestyle choices. Everyone just assumed she had finally accepted what happened to Colt and moved on.

“No.. We are not watching that Ri.”

“Please K?” Riya pouts her lips.

“Omg… We are not going to watch TO ALL THE BOYS I’VE LOVED BEFORE for the 5th time.”

“But.. But.. Peter Kavinsky.” She pouted again throwing her puppy dog eyes at Kaela.

Kaela rolled her eyes at Riya. “Okay find, but I’m picking the next one.”

“Deal!” Riya grinned and hit the play button on the remote.

“I need to use the bathroom for a bit, the pizza delivery guy will be here soon. Take care of it will you?”

A few seconds later there is a buzz on the door, Riya opens and is greeted by the delivery guy. “That will be twenty four fifty.” He says hold the pizza box out.

Riya takes it and shuffles through her purse for cash but is a little short. “Um.. I’m a little short on cash. Could you hand on a sec?” She hurries to the island and grabs Kaela’s purse to get some cash but she ends up finding more. Oxycodone? She quickly stuffs the bottle in her jeans and pays the pizza guy. “Here you go, keep the change.”

A few minutes later Kaela came out of the bathroom and saunters over to the living area, Riya was seated on the couch glaring at her. “Is something wrong?”

“Mind telling me what’s this?” Riya asked holding up an orange pill bottle. “What do you even need Oxycodone for?”

“Omg.. Did you just go through my stuff without my permission?!” She retorted, her hands balling into a fist. “You have no right to do that Riya.”

“I was short on cash and looked through you purse to borrow some. Maybe it’s a good thing I did or who knows how long your drug addiction was going to continue.” She gives Kaela a pointed look. “Is that why you’ve been so chill the past few months? Because you’ve been using? What else have you been using? Heroin? Cocaine?”

“I’m not a drug addict if that’s what you’re implying, I only use them when I go to parties or when I’m feeling stressed out.” She folds her arms her with her eyes downcast. “And for the record I don’t do heroin or cocaine. I’m mostly on prescription pill and occasionally Molly.”

“Kaela how could you be so stupid?! Grieving is one thing but this?!”

“Don’t talk to me like you know what it’s like to feel grief. I tried to grieve him, Riya. Trust me I've got grieving down to a science at this point. But every time I let it sink in that I'm never gonna see you again, I feel like I'm gonna die.” She whimpered. “I— I want to die!

“You can’t say things like that Kaela.”

“And why not? It’s the truth! I can’t do this anymore.. I’m sorry.. I need to go somewhere.” She said taking her purse from the counter and storms out of the apartment, Riya chasing her shortly after into the parking lot “Kaela where are you going, you can’t do this you need help. Just talk to me please!” She pleaded reaching to take her hand but Kaela

“Omg! Riya can you like not!” She belts swatting Riya’s hand away as she tries to take her. “Just leave me alone!” She quickly gets into her car and drives away while Riya watches her from behind.

*****

Kaela drives aimlessly through the streets of LA, she didn’t know where she was going, she just needed to get away from Riya. She needed to get away from everything, to clear her head and a long drive usually does the trick.

Soon she found herself off the highway and on to the freeway which soon lead to a winding road. She could feel her heart pounding as she picks up speed, tears starting to fog her eyes. I can’t do this anymore.. I just can’t. Her phone starts ringing and she looks down at the passenger seat where it was lying, it was Riya calling. She hits the reject button and turns back to the road when she did suddenly out of no where a stray dog was standing in the middle of the winding road and only a few meters from her car, she turned the steering wheel to avoid hitting the pup but at the speed she was going in it made her quickly loose control. Her car swivels on the winding road and rammed onto a divider before flipping over.

Kaela remained strapped to her seat hanging upside down.. The smell of something burning nearby, blood was dripping from her forehead to the ground and her vision was starting to get blurry, she could barely make out what looks like a figure, maybe a passerby who saw the accident dashing over to where she was. “Help me...” She murmurs in a weak voice but before the person manages to get her out she passes out and everything turns to black.

*************************************************

@liamzigmichael4ever @client-327 @brightpinkpeppercorn @lovehugsandcandy @lilyofchoices @justdani14 @zaffrenotes @queenkaneko @mskaneko @pintsizedelle @flowerpowell @desiree-0816 @emceesynonymroll @kinkykingliam @jlpplays1 @annekebbphotography @thecordoniandiaries @cora-nova @rainbowsinthestorm @princess-geek @leelee10898 @emichelle @pixelberrytrash

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Animal Instinct + Dead Disco | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

We’re back with another Moth Work update because ya girl has finished two chapters and is here to spill all the tea! If you missed update one, and two, be sure to check them out before reading this one! I’ve been having a bit of cabin fever with this project lately which has made it difficult to really immerse myself into the project. But we’re almost at the 20k mark of this project which is wILD! I never imagined writing so much of this story (which was initially just a guilty pleasure) and I’m happy with how much I’ve learned about my characters just through this small detour in the series.

The first chapter I’ll be updating on is chapter four, ANIMAL INSTINCT. 

This chapter was a giant pain to finish! It had about 5000 revisions mid-draft, and I definitely feel like I had blinkers on when writing it. Because of that, I lost sight of the big picture and really got stuck on the little things, like the writing and overall quality of the project. This was not actually the purpose of Moth Work--it was supposed to be a dumping ground for whatever. However, in this chapter, I became really hyperfocused on all the small details I disliked which made drafting it a month-long process. I’ve now come to a slightly healthier place with quality in this draft, and found a middle ground between trash-dumping and nitpicking. 

What’s it about?

Animal Instinct is a major point of tension for Lonan and Harrison as their goals deviate. This chapter focuses heavily on the volatility of their relationship and highlights Lonan’s current irrational mental state. The title stems from this idea of calculated action for the sake of a single person’s benefit. 

The writing bit: 

I struggled to write this chapter quite a bit. It took me the majority of July to complete because of a major logic problem I kept running into. After struggling for a few days, I finally realized by fleshing out what I’d written initially, I could overwrite the logic problem. The solution took a lot of work/test scenes to figure out, but eventually I got it!

Excerpts:

I shared this excerpt before because it’s one of the only paragraphs I don’t mind in this chapter! I think the flow is a lil funky but I dig the concept! This outlines the last bits of the cabin, specifically Harrison’s final check around the perimeter. 

Around the corner, the back patio is static—like Anna and her son never stopped sitting there. Her bowl of avocado and Greek yogurt—the holistic remedy Emily said would make her glow like an angel—sits gummy and pestered with flies. One of Milo’s toys is wedged under the cheap lawn chair. It haunts him, seeing them while not seeing them, but he leaves everything like it is. Anna and her son will always remain on the patio, Anna with her cheekbones splayed for the moon, Milo babbling mildly about his father like he hasn’t made the connection. They’ve gone invisible.  

After this first scene, Harrison does some driving in the dark which gives me major book three vibes lol, and eventually pulls into a motel somewhere in Nevada. This route from Oregon to Boston makes no sense but I conveniently needed Lonan to end up in Vegas, so!! do it for Vegas!!

In the motel, Harrison meets Jeremiah, his potential new man lol. Harrison is focused on getting in and out of there as quickly as possible, but he’s like dang mans teeth are the straightest I ever did see (me too tho). Because he gets distracted, he fails to notice his car turn off, and only makes the connection after passing it a few times in the parking lot. He minorly paniques as he looks for Lonan, but eventually finds him around the building. 

The scene that follows gets volatile as heck, and really showcases how similar Lonan and Reeve are? Like dang that whole family tho? (Can I join?)

I’m not going to share much of this scene because she gets dramatic, but this is the wildest dialogue I’ve written in a while and I think I’m going to steal it and make Reeve say it because something like this would come out of her mouth:

“Do you feel that, Harrison? I could burn you with a cigarette and call it a wolf bite and nobody would know the difference.” 

sounds normal at first then NOPE

The next chapter (chapter 5) is called Dead Disco:

This chapter came together very quickly because I’d had it basically planned out, however, it veered into an emotional direction I wasn’t expecting. This chapter was supposed to be fun and lighthearted, and it ended up being... not that??  

What’s it about?

After the tragic drama that occurs in the previous chapter, Harrison wakes up the next morning to notice that Lonan has #left and #taken the car. This is v/ not good, but instead of getting super worked up he chooses to chill out at Jeremiah’s place and chill ft. some disco. I meant for it to be cute but Harrison ends up in a mental place I wasn’t expecting, so the chapter feels a bit “derealized” to me. After both Lonan and Harrison head out on their solo endeavors, they meet back up and this encounter ends *badly*. 

Playlist:

July 31st Rachel was feeling very enthusiastic about the playlist for this chapter (I was writing while listening to music) and wrote down a list of songs that describe the progression of this chapter (in order + all Nothing But Thieves because predictable!):

Holding Out For A Hero

Crazy

Afterlife

Hanging

Excuse Me

Forever & Ever More

You Know Me Too Well

I’m Not Made By Design

Amsterdam

Number 13

Itch

Hostage

BUT SHOUTOUT TO: Disco by Surf Curse

Probably the most accurate vibe here lol

Excerpts:

This first excerpt is Harrison angsting hard about missing his friends. I don’t *love* her but I don’t *hate* her! I tried revising it but it... flopped, so here’s the failed revision:

Lonan could say those words and it haunts him, how easily he taints him like a bad omen. There are so many things Emily would tell him to do to cleanse the bad magic, but Harrison recalls none of them properly. He remembers words like moon, and black walnut, and quartz crystal, and cardamom, but can’t think of what to do with any. He wishes he were like Foster, curious enough to carry around a pocket dictionary, or like his mother, clever enough to make something up on a whim. All Harrison can do is bury his face in his palms outside the restaurant and hope no one watches him. The main road bustles by and he wishes to be invisible, like Anna and her son. He wants his friends back. Foster could lull him to consciousness with a quiz on the different kinds of plants, which are edible, which are poisonous. Reeve would split a cigarette with him and scare him back to life with her driving. Emily will never speak to him but at least she’d cast a curse on him, and even that’s better than his nullified state of living. It’s disorienting, to feel asleep while awake. Harrison blinks hard, but everything feels the same—the buildings all shimmering, the people staring barely even people, everything derealized like it’s all been coated in REM. 

(tag urself i’m foster’s pocket dictionary)

This next excerpt outlines Harrison getting turnt with his new man and then getting philosophical? drunk Harrison be Aristotle and Madonna smushed together idk

Harrison knows he shouldn’t drink around a stranger but Jeremiah’s got a handmade bracelet and scribbly tattoos on his forearm so it’s hard not to trust him. Photo prints of hostels in Japan, statues in Europe, cathedrals in Paraguay decorate the walls in perfectly cut rectangles. Each is plumed with a dried flower and it reminds Harrison so much of Emily, he has to look away, back to the Lonan-coloured drink. He studies the shot glass like it isn’t transparent, the grooves around the perimeter, the engraving that reads Cancun 1987. He loses Jeremiah’s absent swish around him, and gets lost in the blue. The trifecta amazes him, how a colour as unnatural as this has manifested in Lonan’s eyes, his earring, this drink. He tips the glass back and finishes it in one go, and even though it’s strong and should taste like artificial blueberries, his mouth is tasteless and numb.

“You live here alone?” Harrison asks, raking his fingers through his hair. The apartment overlooks the strip across the street and Harrison gets lost in it, the artificial signs like bad advertising, the neons ill like influenza. When he looks toward Jeremiah again, his glass is refilled and he has to think hard to remember if he emptied it in the first place. 

This is where Harrison manages to make disco big sad + some lowkey salt at Lonan which is always! a! win!:

Together, they move in a trance, limber and manic. The glass in Harrison’s hand isn’t a weight—it’s a lifeline. The apartment blurs, and waves in slow motion. Harrison doesn’t hear the music or taste the drink; he feels nothing in the ground, and everything in his tongue. His hair swims in his face like Lonan’s, moving like he did in the water, careless in his forehead, his eyes. The pictures on the wall become the pictures in his bedroom, and the blinking doesn’t get rid of them. In his sidesteps with Jeremiah he sees him, in the glass, across the street, under a streetlamp. Taking his cigarettes, his light, his car, his mouth like a cannibal. 

To end this update, here’s some dialogue ft. savagery:

“You’re patronizing me.”

“You’re patronizing yourself.” 

A meme to accompany this lol:

So that’s it for this update! At the time of drafting most of this post (which was a few weeks ago), I wasn’t really feeling this project, however, after writing chapter 6 and switching POVs into Lonan’s head (where there’s lots of messy stuff to work with), I’ve been having a lot of fun!

I’m sorry updates have been slow on this blog--I’m in the process of moving so I’m getting busy, however, I hope to post at least one more update before I go off to school! Thanks for reading. :)

--Rachel

[yesloverboy]

announcement

look so I know it hasn’t even been out for a full day yet, but I just wanna say a quick thank you to everyone reading the new chapter of Neighborly! It took me nearly 5000 words to build up to that cliffhanger ending so I really appreciate all of your nice comments. 

idk how many people actually read the notes portion of my chapters, but I made an announcement that I’ll now be taking REQUESTS for The Dirt boys! 

anon is now turned on, so feel free to send me any oneshot/headcanon requests whenever you feel like! I’d also love for y’all to send me any ideas you have for where you want the neighborly series to go, so please don’t hesitate to shoot me and ask. any and all thoughts are welcome!

- ash 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 134: A Magnificent Debut

Previously on BnHA: Some yakuza dickwad shot Amajiki with a bullet that deactivated his quirk. Kirishima ran off after him and laid him out with a manly punch. The guy acted like a good defeated villain for about 30 seconds, and then shot himself up with some sort of quirk-enhancing drug. Then he sprouted a bunch of swords from his body and tried to stab Kirishima. Kirishima flashed back to his quirk-strengthening training, and a pep talk that Bakugou gave him about never backing down. Present-day Kirishima then proceeded to hulk out into a badass unbreakable rock man.

Today on BnHA: Kirishima wraps up his fight and, spoiler alert, wins. Everyone congratulates him and it even ends up making the news. Meanwhile, Fat Gum relays the news about the quirk-suppressing and enhancing drugs to Nighteye. Several days later, Kirishima is called back in to his internship along with Deku, Tsuyu, and Ochako. All of them meet up at Nighteye’s office, along with the Big Three, Fat Gum, Ryuukyuu, and even Aizawa and Gran Torino. Nighteye informs them all that he’s gathered them to discuss the Eight Precepts.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 164 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

Kirishima Eijirou has turned into a weird sort of dinosaur looking dude made out of rock

and he’s running toward knifey stabby man, whose swords are now all broken, as you’ll recall

oh damn, knifey stabby man is making one last all-in play here

that’s enough swords to build the goddamn iron throne

Kirishima is taking the entire blow head-on because there are still people behind him and people in the shops around them

he’s so fucking heroic you guys

he’s thinking to himself that he’ll use brute force to overwhelm him. heeeeey. exactly like All Might said, huh

I was just starting to think to myself that I was getting a bit tired of Kirishima just turning into a rock dude and doing muscly rock dude things, and then this fucking happens and I’m like, “but damned if it isn’t satisfying to see Kirishima punch this guy so hard he goes flying off his feet, though”

and then I also remember that my all-time favorite moment in this series is not when Bakugou fought Deku the second time, or when All Might hugged Deku on the beach, or even when All Might hugged Bakugou, but rather when Kouta punched Deku in the nuts that one time

so idk. maybe at the end of the day I’m pretty simple-minded after all

that said, this guy had better be down for real this time

that was pretty manly, dude

one of the bystanders is like, “he’s so young... but such fury...” lmao. yes. look how furious

furious like a damn puppy

knifey stabby has started crying again

he’s fucking asking Kirishima to let him go. um, no lol

what the fuck Kirishima

“sorry I can’t do that because you shot my friend and tried to kill me after you just pulled this exact same stunt two minutes ago. but I will still be empathetic towards you because I’M LITERALLY THE NICEST PERSON”

seriously Kiri, Red Riot isn’t gonna cut it any more. time to change that hero name to Mister Nice Guy

and then when you get really pissed off, you can be all, “THAT DOES IT!!! NO MORE MISTER NICE GUY.” get it. I think it’s a good idea that could really catch on

now what is this son of a bitch up to

are you gonna launch yourself into the air or something. don’t do that, actually. Kirishima’s not that mobile. although it has been a while since we last saw FG so maybe he could show up and catch you

oh look. he is launching yourself into the air

Kirishima’s cursing himself for just standing there and letting him escape again. yeah, you dumb, boy

knifey stabby is gleefully whooping about how Kirishima is way too naive and trusting, and that he’s gonna get away! for sure! no way he’s getting caught!! famous last words, what do you mean, what are those

lol

as many times as this series has pulled the rug out from under me, it’s nice to still be able to call it every once in a while

FG’s capturing the guy with his quirk and reminding Kirishima that while villains may have any number of goals, the heroes’ goals are always the same: capture the villains without any victims

hey, that sounds familiar. basically just another way of saying “win and rescue”, isn’t it? All Might really was right

anyway here’s FG’s quirk

at first I read this as “5000 goopy” and I was like, “what an odd unit of measurement”

Kiri’s standing there excitedly and thinking “wow! FG beat him instantly!” but really all he did was stand there and absorb him into his goop

now a nice Kansai accented man is thanking Kiri and says he did amazing, and that he didn’t fail to notice how Kiri was purposely keeping knifey stabby focused on him so that he wouldn’t attack the others

what a nice thing to say in front of Kiri’s mentor!

LOOK AT THIS WHOLESOME CONTENT

[HAIR RUFFLES!!!!]

now we’re back by the takoyaki place and Kiri is apparently telling FG and Amajiki about the quirk-enhancing drug

FG seems to know a lot about this. he says the short duration indicates the drug is an Asian knockoff. apparently there are African ones that last up to 1-2 hours

how much do you want to bet that Overhaul kept all the long-lasting ones for his best guys

(ETA: sweet jesus imagine if he had. we would still be in that basement to this day)

one of the cops is running over to FG

looks like they found the “bullet” that ricocheted off of Kirishima’s hardened forehead earlier and are going to check it out

Kiri’s asking Amajiki if he’s okay, and Amajiki is hiding himself under his costume hood

he’s embarrassed not just because his quirk stopped working, but because his kouhai had to cover for him. d’aww

he says Kirishima is the same type as Mirio. “another of those that shines bright like the sun”

Kiri says Amajiki shines just as much!

I’m starting to feel like Kirishima may literally be compelled to say something whenever someone around him starts badmouthing themselves. like, he physically can’t stand there and let them

while they bond, Fat Gum is thinking to himself that although he’s familiar with the quirk-boosting drugs, he’s never heard of a drug that makes quirks unusable. and he’s thinking to himself that this doesn’t look good

so they’re gonna take Amajiki to the hospital to get him checked out. good call. why haven’t they already done that, in fact. why were they just standing around talking for so long

“for starters, let’s head back to the office.” dude. I’m glad you’re being chill about this, I guess, but there’s like no urgency at all

BACK TO U.A. HOORAY

Kaminari is excitedly waving his phone in Kirishima’s face and announcing that Kiri made the news

meanwhile Bakugou is grinding his teeth but not actually saying anything. does that count as being supportive

(ETA: ooh I forgot he was in this one panel here. probably because he does absolutely nothing at all. but he really sells that background gag though)

Ochako and Tsuyu made the news too! niiiiiice

Iida is telling them that they’ve “rendered a splendid service”

BUT

sometimes he reminds me of Percy from HP

now they’re talking about supplementary lessons and stuff. actually, yeah, I’m impressed Kiri is managing to juggle both the internship and his schoolwork. unlike the other interning students, he’s in the bottom 25% of the class. Ochako isn’t much better, but I’d bet her grades are more middling

apparently Sero was considering interning too (and he’d be great honestly), but he didn’t think he’d be able to handle it. I think he was ranked like 17th out of 20. I just posted that recap pretty recently

while everyone else sits there being excited about their internships, Deku is sitting there being moody af about his. and I can’t honestly blame him. All Might potentially dying, Nighteye believing Deku isn’t good enough and being determined to prove that Mirio is a better choice; and last but not least my poor sweet little jelly bean Eri whom I have not forgotten about and who is still in peril!! :|!

and Deku hasn’t forgotten about her either and says the thought of her is constantly present in his mind day in and day out

now it’s “several days later” and Kirishima and Deku are meeting up outside the dorms early in the morning and seem pleasantly surprised

and the girls too! that’s nice

obviously this is the day of the big operation Nighteye was talking about that he had called in additional agencies to help with. and as we know, their agencies were coincidentally the ones he called

though it doesn’t seem like they’ve actually realized that yet lol

they’re remarking on how they’re all taking the same train even though Kiri’s agency is in Kansai. he says he was told the meeting place is somewhere different than usual

weird that Deku was told he didn’t need his costume though. were the others told the same?

(ETA: I keep forgetting there is a really easy way to verify this, which is just to look and see if they’re actually carrying the costume briefcases lol. and they are not)

also, are their senpais already at the agency? Mirio and the rest?

lmao

how fucking slow are these kids

at this point if I were Deku I’d be half-suspecting some sort of weird surprise party lol

finally they’re turning the corner and there are Mirio, Hadou, and Amajiki

I wonder if Amajiki’s quirk is back yet??

OH MY GOD

EVEN FUCKING AIZAWA IS THERE. and Gran too! AND IS THAT SOME SORT OF FUCKING COCKROACH MAN HOLY SHIT I JUST SUPPRESSED A SHUDDER

so Deku’s freaking out that two of his teachers are there, and he’s trying to figure out what’s going on

dude, you know what’s going on. even I remember, and it’s been more than a week since I read the chapter where Nighteye mentioned this whole thing

so now Nighteye has arrived and is calling the meeting to order

and the chapter is just ending there. lol. okay

 BONUS:

I’m gonna be honest with you guys. I didn’t read this bonus page until literally the night before I posted this recap. it’s like that for all the bonus pages in this volume

and also, I’m not quite sure if this is the correct page for this chapter? but he is in the chapter, albeit just as a background character on that one page with Everybody

anyway. Centipeder. what can I say about him. he scares the living shit out of me. I’m so scared of centipedes. they’re so gross and they’re fucking sneaky and the few times I’ve seen them they were just chilling on the couch or even the bed without any warning omg. one time when I was in college there was a centipede hiding under the strap of my messenger bag and I didn’t notice until I’d already grabbed it and it was one of the most traumatic experiences of my life. I would seriously take spiders over centipedes any fucking day

anyway. so here’s a centipede who’s six and a half feet tall. and they say he’s a hero and a gentlemen. sure. okay then. but I don’t trust him. pretty sure he is the U.A. traitor. even though he doesn’t actually work at U.A. he’s evil okay. just... I don’t want to look at him anymore lmao