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physalian · 2 months

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What No One Tells You About Writing #5

Part 4

Part 3

Part 2

Shorter list this time, but longer points. I expect this one to be more divisive, but it is what it is, and this is what ‘no one tells you’ about writing, after all. This one’s all about feedback and how to take it, and give it.

1. Not everyone will like your book, no matter how good it is

I’ve said this before, granted, but sometimes you can have very arbitrary reasons for not liking an otherwise great story. For example: I refuse to watch Hamilton. Why? Because everyone I knew and their dog was trying to cram it down my throat when it came out and I still don’t really like musicals, and didn’t appreciate the bombardment of insisting I’ll like it simply because everyone else does. I’m sure it’s great! I’m just not watching it until I want to watch it.

It can be other reasons, too. I won’t read fanfic that’s written in first person, doesn’t matter how good it is. Someone might not watch a TV show because the primary cast is white or not-white. Someone might not watch a movie because an actor they despise is in it, even if the role is fantastic. Someone might not watch or read a story that’s too heavy on the romance, or not enough, or too explicit. I went looking for beta readers and came across one who wouldn’t touch a book where the romance came secondary in a sci-fi or fantasy novel. Kept on scrolling.

Someone can just think your side character is unfunny and doesn’t hear the same music as everyone else. Someone can just not like your writing style with either too much or not enough fluff, or too much personality in the main narrator. Or they have triggers that prevent them from enjoying it the way you intend.

How someone expresses that refusal is not your job to manage. You cannot force someone to like your work and pushing too hard will just make it worse. Some people just won’t like it, end of story.

2. Criticism takes a very long time to take well

Some people are just naturally better at taking constructive criticism, some have a thick skin, some just have a natural confidence that beats back whatever jabs the average reader or professional editor can give. If you’re like me, you might’ve physically struggled at first to actually read the feedback and insisted that your beta readers color-coded the positive from the negative.

It can be a very steep climb up the mountain until you reach a point where you know you’re good enough, and fully appreciate that it is actually “constructive” and anything that isn’t, isn’t worth your time.

The biggest hurdle I had to climb was this: A criticism of my work is not a criticism of me as a person.

Yes, my characters are built with pieces of my personality and worldview and dreams and ideals, but the people giving you feedback should be people who either already know you as a person and are just trying to help, or are people you pay to be unbiased and only focus on what’s on the page.

Some decisions, like a concerning moral of your story, is inadvertently a criticism of your own beliefs—like when I left feedback that anxiety can’t just be loved away and believing so is a flawed philosophy. I did that with intent to help, not because I thought the writer incompetent or that they wrote it in bad faith.

I’m sure it wasn’t a fun experience reading what I had to say, either. It’s not fun when I get told a character I love and lost sleep over getting right isn’t getting the same reception with my betas. But they’re all doing it (or at least they all should be doing it) from a place of just wanting to help, not to insult your writing ability. Even if your writing objectively sucks, you’re still doing a lot more just by putting words on paper than so many people who can’t bring themselves to even try.

As with all mediums subjects to critique, one need not be an author to still give valuable feedback. I’m not a screenwriter, but from an audience’s standpoint, I can tell you what I think works. Non-authors giving you pointers on the writing process? You can probably ignore that. Non-authors giving you pointers on how your character lands? Then, yeah, they might have an opinion worth considering.

3. Parsing out the “constructive” from the criticism isn’t easy

This goes for people giving it as well. Saying things like “this book sucks” is an obviously useless one. Saying “I didn’t like this story because it was confusing and uncompelling” is better. “I think this story was confusing and uncompelling because of X, and I have some suggestions here that I think can make it better.”

Now we’re talking.

Everyone’s writing style is different. Some writers like a lot of fluff and poetic prose to immerse you in the details and the setting, well beyond what you need to understand the scene or the plot. Their goal is to make this world come alive and help you picture the scene exactly the way they see it in their minds.

There’s writers who are very light on the sensory fluff and poetry, trying to give you the impression of what the scene should look and feel like and letting you fill in the missing pieces with your own vision.

Or there’s stories that take a long time to get anywhere, spending many pages on the small otherwise insignificant slice-of-life details as opposed to laser-precision on the plot, and those who trim off all the fat for a fast-paced rollercoaster.

None of these are inherently bad or wrong, but audiences do have their preferences.

The keyword in “constructive criticism” is “construct”. As in, your advice is useless if you can’t explain why you think an element needs work. “It’s just bad” isn’t helpful to anyone.

When trying to decide if feedback has merit, try to look at whatever the critic gives you and explain what they said to yourself in your own words. If you think changing the piece in question will enhance your story or better convey what you’re trying to say, it’s probably solid advice.

Sometimes you just have to throw the whole character out, or the whole scene, whole plot line and side quest. Figuring out what you can salvage just takes time, and practice.

4. Just when you think you’re done, there’s more

There’s a quote out there that may or may not belong to Da Vinci that goes “art is never finished, only abandoned.” Even when you think your book is as good as it can be, you can still sleep on it and second-guess yourself and wonder if something about it could have been done better or differently.

There is such a thing as too much editing.

But it also takes a long time to get there. Only 10-15% of writing is actually penning the story. The rest is editing, agonizing over editing, re-editing, and staring at the same few lines of dialogue that just aren't working to the point that you dream about your characters.

It can get demoralizing fast when you think you’ve fixed a scene, get the stamp of approval from one reader, only for the next one to come back with valid feedback neither of you considered before. So you fix it again. And then there’s another problem you didn’t consider. And then you’re juggling all these scene bits and moments you thought were perfect, only for it to keep collapsing.

It will get there. You will have a manuscript you’re proud of, even if it’s not the one you thought you were going to write. My newest book isn’t what I set out to write, but if I stuck to that original idea, I never would have let it become the work that it is.

5. “[Writing advice] is more like guidelines than actual rules.”

Personally, I think there’s very few universal, blanket pieces of writing advice that fit every book, no exceptions, no conditions, no questions asked. Aside from: Don’t sacrifice a clear story for what you think is cool, but horribly confusing.

For example, I’m American, but I like watching foreign films from time to time. The pacing and story structure of European films can break so many American rules it’s astonishing. Pacing? What pacing? It’s ~fancy~. It wants to hang on a shot of a random wall for fifteen seconds with no music and no point because it’s ~artsy~. Or there is no actual plot, or arc, it’s just following these characters around for 90 minutes while they do a thing. The entire movie is basically filler. Or the ending is deeply unsatisfying because the hoity-toity filmmaker believes in suffering for art or… something.

That doesn’t fly with mainstream American audiences. We live, breathe, and die on the Hero’s Journey and expect a three-act-structure with few novel exceptions.

That does not mean your totally unique or subversive plot structure is wrong. So much writing advice I’ve found is solid advice, sure, but it doesn’t often help me with the story I’m writing. I don’t write romance like the typical romance you’d expect (especially when it comes to monster allegories). There’s some character archetypes I just can’t write and refuse to include–like the sad, abusive, angsty, 8-pack abs love interest, or the comedic relief.

Beyond making sure your audience can actually understand what you’re trying to say, both because you want your message to be received, and you don’t want your readers to quit reading, there is an audience for everything, and exceptions to nearly every rule, even when it comes to writing foundations like grammar and syntax.

You don’t even have to put dialogue in quotes. (Be advised, though, that the more ~unique~ your story is, the more likely you are to only find success in a niche audience).

Lots of writing advice is useful. Lots of it is contradictory. Lots of it is outdated because audience expectations are changing constantly. There is a balance between what you *should* do as said by other writers, and what you think is right for your story, regardless of what anyone else says.

Just don’t make it confusing.

—

I just dropped my cover art and summary for my debut novel. Go check it out and let me know what you think!

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #editing #constructive criticism #what no one tells you about writing

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awesomefringey · 5 months

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I haven't been able to find a good fic to read in about 7 months, I've only read A Distant Hazy Light over and over, but I need a good fic to get this out of my system

Ok, I understand we need to do something about it but first of all @greenfeelings wrote a brilliant series! So, I get it!!!

I read so many wonderful fics this year, here are some of them, maybe they’re for you too:

Is This Flying Or Falling by Holdingontochaos (A/B/O) It’s very sexy and very emotional. It’s also a lot of hurt and comfort. (Harry is traumatized from a past relationship, see the tags for triggers)

Quiet People Have The Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2 (A/B/O) I rediscovered it this year and couldn’t put it down again. It’s so very very sweet and made me feel warm and fuzzy.

Danger I Can’t Hide by CelticSky This is the most epic fic. I was worried it would be too dark and too real for my liking with the WWII setting, but the author finds a great balance to create a very real and life threatening atmosphere without it being too unbearable. Although I cried a lot! It is one of the best fics I’ve ever read. Great writing, amazing pacing, a truly unique love story.

Just Breathe With Me by @she-bear369 The Yoga fic. I couldn’t put this fic down. I loved their chemistry and how it was immediately palpable that there was something between them. Also Yoga instructor Louis is truly inspiring! Both Louis and Harry come with a bit of trauma they need to work through, but I loved to watch them process them and grow to be even better people, for themselves and for each other.

Love Is A Word You Gave It A Name by @larrydoinglaundry (3 part series) This one is pretty popular, so maybe you’ve read them already? If not, you must! I can’t really prepare you for it, other than that Louis and Harry will build a room in your heart and never leave it. I’ve read this one (and the 2nd part) multiple times, just to spend time with them.

Secrets, Santa? by @indiaalphawhiskey This fic is a gift to our fandom. I still don’t understand how we deserve authors like India. I’ve been wheezing and screaming over Harry, he’s absolutely hilarious and I love him to bits. The way Harry stubbornly thirsts after Louis is as silly as it is understandable because DAMN Louis is a CEO and Harry is his assistant and why isn’t this a Hallmark Christmas movie and thank god it isn’t because this one is so much better! I read this multiple times and it’ll be forever my go-to fic to get into the Christmas spirit.

And a little extra rec because you’re into A/B/O:

Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie This fic was recommended to me recently and I haven’t read it yet but will before the year ends. So if you’re curious, give this one a go.

You can check my tags as well: larry fanfic rec, abo larry fanfiction or larry fanfiction (which is all of my reblogs for fics)

#ask #larry fanfic rec #it’s almost a best of for 2023 #but there are so many missing #should I do a best of?#oh god #larry fanfiction #abo larry fanfiction

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aka-indulgence · 6 months

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Hello @llamagoddessofficial :> Wrote another fanfic fanfic for you! I really love the good zoo siren au as someone who does some marine biologies, and I had a burst of inspiration so I wrote the first day working at the aquarium :D I loved writing the parallels hehee

—————

You were a janitor in the Ebott aquarium!!

Which, when you say out loud, does sound underwhelming. But you didn’t mind it. You had come to them in the hopes of becoming an intern, a volunteer, or a staff if things went your way. The lady at the information desk (who was very helpful), had looked quite apologetic when you asked her.

“I’m sorry… but we’re not looking for anymore creature carers at the moment.”

It was quite disappointing, but you weren’t expecting to get accepted straight away, anyway. And you’d already bought a ticket anyway, so you still had an aquarium day all to yourself, not like you were wasting your day. And you had a great day! If you weren’t caring for the animals directly, you were reassured by the fact that your payment is going to contribute to their care.

The day became even better when the lady recognized you on the way out and stopped you.

“We don’t have positions for carers right now, but… how would you like to be a cleaner? I’ll keep you up to date if there are any spots open.”

Naturally, you took it. It wasn’t like you had anything pressing for your schedule right now. As soon as a position opens- whatever it is- you were going to take it by the throat.

It was your first day. You were blasted with warmth as soon as you went in, having to quickly shed your winter clothes for the janitor uniform. It had little fish on the sleeves, which was a cute touch. It wasn’t the most glamorous job, of course. You spent more of your hours in the toilet than you did in the exhibit rooms. But any agitation you got from coming into a stall, only to see tissues strewn about on the floor like someone just blew up a roll after you had just cleaned; was quickly washed away when you went out, to the cool blues, the dancing lights cast in the darkened rooms. Even when you had to excuse yourself in front of the guests to wipe a drink spill in front of the giant ‘Pacific Bay’ aquarium, the music calmed your soul.

It wasn’t very quiet in the afternoon, what with the families and their 300 toddlers running about and crying babies. But when the day waned and the water glimmers dimmed, the one’s left were adults, couples. Then of course, the aquarium closed.

You worked up a sweat that clung to your uniform uncomfortably, after you scrubbed a mysterious stain on the floor leading to the gift shop that seemed to seep into the shiny tile, somehow.

“Hey, Julia?” You called; the lovely information lady that allowed you to have this opportunity in the first place; wandering about the empty entrance to check out. It felt like a bit of a ghost town all of a sudden, as you roamed the aquariums for any management-type people you could ask for help.

“I’m done, right? What should I…”

You stop when you walk by a doorway, into a room that was always darker than the rest, even when the sun was still up in the sky.

… You could walk back into the dinky staff room in the back of the building where they just gave up on aesthetics, a ‘modern’ and unsightly concrete structure. But… you could also just… say that you didn’t find anyone… right? And just… ‘got lost’... in the Deep Seas room…

Looking around, holding a cloth to your heart as if someone was going to chastise you if you hadn’t, you snuck into the room. It was hard to pass up on an opportunity like this.

Ebott aquarium was special, after all. They were one of the few aquariums in the world that had sirens. Three, to be in fact. One orca siren, one shark siren, and a deep sea cecaelia. A spectacular cast, to be sure- it wasn’t a surprise how they won so many awards over the years.

This room in particular was the cecaelia’s, the most reclusive of all the sirens.

You walked past the languid isopods, the floating nautilus, the sparkling comb jellies, to a giant opening in the room where the ceiling extended so you could see the entire tank in all its glory.

It usually looked empty, of course, but the few chances you get to see the cecaelia, it would be a shame to be unable to see him.

Though, as it was now, the tank looked uninhabited, as it usually was. This siren in particular was ‘shy’, though shy wasn’t the right word. It was more that he didn’t like being looked at, as to be expected with deep sea specieses.

Which is why this was the perfect opportunity for you. Julia told you about him- that he was more likely to emerge during after hours. They had cameras in the viewing room, for the purpose of recording his activity whenever he does something interesting to show visitors that he is in fact real, and they aren’t just displaying an empty tank for fun.

The TV display is off now, but you remember the video they posted online, where the most exciting thing that happened was him shooting out of the cave to grab the food they lowered into his tank, before quickly retreating back into the cave. There were screams of children and adults alike going wild.

You read the information board next to the TV.

Skull, Deep Sea Cecaelia

Sirenus cecaelia aequor

Ebott’s most recently acquired siren, Skull was found floating near the surface, a sign of disease or weakness in deep sea sirens. It is our belief that Skull recently acquired the crack in his skull. This may have caused him to grow uncontrollably, though our researchers argue that it might as well be due to deep sea gigantism.

Not much is known of deep sea cecaelias as of now, as they are the rarest encountered sirens in human history, and extensive observation we do have is in captivity, like Skull.

They are as enigmatic as they are beautiful, deep sea cecaelias are believed to live a mostly solitary life……

Your eyes scan through the text- having read most of it from the other day visit. Your sight is caught on the plaque next to the board, under the TV. You hadn’t noticed it before, with how full the room was. Boarded with wood and written on a golden plate, it reads:

In memory of Henry Freeman.

1975-20XX

Your squint when the gold plating starts shimmering a pinkish hue. And, did it get darker?

You follow the direction of the light to see…

“Whoa-lly shit!” You staggered.

Right there, against the glass, was Skull. He was big, you knew that, his size was listed right there on the board with a human outline next to his to show scale, and you’ve seen the videos of course- but that didn’t prepare you to see him in person.

Just his skeletal upper body dwarfed yours, bones thick and marred with scars of unknown battles deep below, where sunlight couldn’t reach. His pitch black tentacles waved around him like deep shadows in the darkness of the tank, suckers sticking and popping off the glass in tandem. At its base, a single tentacle was thicker than you were.

You held a hand up to your chest. Your heart had jumped at the giant shadow, that glowing red eye of his, the size of your fist, zeroing on you, and a great big smile full of characteristically sharp deep-sea teeth. It must’ve been instinctual fear, having a great predator looking at you, so close, only separated by a couple inches of glass.

The tips of his front tentacles were poking and tapping on the glass.

The initial adrenaline of fear quickly turned to curiosity and awe. You’ve never seen him with your own two eyes before, let alone so close- why was he out? Did he notice the empty room, and the lone ‘prey’ turned away from him and just lunged..?

“Hahahah, am I lucky to be on this side of the glass,” you joked, approaching the glass.

His eye stayed trained on you as you approached, his smile widening. He even lowered his head a little, like he was trying to get on eye level with you.

“Can’t tell if you’re curious about me or if you just really really want to eat me,” you giggle, at the way he was focused on you.

You pressed your hand to the glass, and practically squished your nose to it as you took him in. You could imagine the sounds those great big tentacles were as they moved like midnight waves.

You pull your head back in time to see his eye on your open palm against the glass. A great finger pointed to it, scratching the glass. Then… he presses his hand to the glass, right in front of yours.

Your mouth opens. Your hand just barely fits into his palm. You looked back to the cecaelia. This close, you could see all the little shift in his eyelight, flitting here and there, like he was paying close attention to the details in your face.

His eyelight cast a soft red on your face, your cheeks. A small glimmer in your eyes.

“This is…”

“Eeeeeee!”

You startle at the squeal, sounding like if a squeaky toy could get excited. When you turned around, you see a woman standing at the end of a hallway, in a white coat and white turtleneck, looking very ready to walk in the cold.

“U-uh,”

“How did you,” she strode over to you, long blond hair bouncing as she did, “how did you get him to do that?”

“I’m- sorry?” you sputter. Looking behind you, Skull had retreated a few paces to the back of the glass. “I was just… just…” you shrug, making a face when you remember you’re still holding the cleaning cloth, hiding it behind your back.

“Magnificent!” she stood next to you, one hand on the glass. “We’ve never seen him so interested in a human before. You had him against the glass!”

Skull was swimming around, darting from one corner to the other, keeping his eye on the both of you.

“He’s never done that?”

“Never!” she turns to you, conviction in her voice. “Skull doesn’t like being looked at, he usually hides in his cave when someone walks into the room, not… approach and give them a greeting. The only reason he isn’t rushing back is because he recognizes my face as ‘someone who gives the food’. And like you see now, he doesn’t give me any special greetings. Just having him out and about while someone is in view is stunning, let alone…”

“Oh, so do you feed him?” you ask. Hopefully you weren’t going to get chewed out for dawdling in the aquarium when you’re supposed to be clocked out 30 minutes ago.

“I do help with the feedings.” She says, then extends a hand to you. “Call me Mildred. I’m the head of the aquarium.”

“The… the head?!” Your eyes widen as you shook her hand. “I’m… I’m (Y/n), it’s an honor! To meet you!”

“Oh, please, I’m much more interested in you!” She smiles, the lines around her lips wrinkled with age, evidence of a lively woman. “Say… are you the new cleaning service Julia picked up?”

“Y-yeah! I mean. Yes,” You corrected yourself. You were talking to the big boss here, and you were a little bashful to find that she knows about you.

“You said you wanted experience in animal and magical creature care, right?”

“Absolutely,”

She presses a finger to her lips, as if thinking for a moment. She casts her eyes to the exhibit, where Skull was still circling above. Then she looks at you with a playful smile.

“... How would you like to come into the siren care team?”

Your heart rate spikes, and you sputter.

“I… wh… hhhhhreally?!”

#not gonna write a long fic!!!!!!!#probably #i might get inspo to write other scenes with the other Bones #im an aquarium enthusiast?? maybe???#i like good aquarium :>#heehee #aka writing #fanfic fanfic #fun fact: i have in fact worked in an aquarium! a small one but still!#good zoo siren au

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theshelbyclan · 2 years

Text

Baby Outlaw

Summary: Natasha has found out about another little girl who managed to escape the Red Room and she’s put Yelena onto it. But you escaped over a year ago and have no intention of being found (Part 1)

A/N: Here we go: my first not-Peaky fanfic on this blog. I started writing this one a while back and I’ve written a few more parts already, but I just wanna see first if anyone is interested in this one. Also, I wrote this one with an OC originally, but decided to post it as a reader insert, because people on here prefer those usually. Anyways, let me know what you think and whether you’d like to read more!

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Words: 3228

*****

“Yelena.”

“Hi! Are you calling me from your superhero friends’ headquarters? Are they with you now? How is the god from space doing? Tell them I said ‘hi’!” She excitedly answered the phone, only to suddenly change her tone, “Wait, what is wrong with you? You sound so serious.”

Natasha was serious, “I need you to track someone down.”

“I am,” her younger sister still didn’t quite understand, “You gave me the file with all the girls, remember? I’ve been tracking them all down for the last months.”

“I know, I’ve heard.” Still there was the urgency in her sister’s voice and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yelena. “This one is special.”

“They all are.” To Yelena, this was a matter of principle; from faceless weapons they were now free women, all important and valued. Still she understood, “Special why?”

Natasha sighed on the other end of the line, “Do you remember everything Dreykov did after I managed to get out?” She tried to hide the guilt from her voice as much as she could, but didn’t quite manage it.

“Of course. The security got much stricter, punishments harder, and the chemical subjugation. No one escaped after that.”

“Well, someone did,” Natasha said sharply. “Another girl managed to get away, only a year ago. She escaped from the woods, when they were training her. During the blind dropping.”

Yelena remember that part of their training well. The young girls were dropped in the middle of the woods during the freezing winter and had to get back on their own. It had taken her days to do it. A lot of girls never came back. “But wait, that means she’s only small...” she wondered out loud.

“I think she’s twelve now, thirteen maybe?”

“How did she get away? The tracker...”

“She cut it out of her leg,” Natasha finished her sentence for her. “This must’ve been before they did the operation on her.”

“Umnaya devochka...” Yelena mused with some admiration in her voice.

“She won’t be in your files.”

“I can find her,” Yelena said confidently, “if you can tell me where she was last seen?”

“St. Petersburg,” Natasha was obviously rummaging through some files on the other end, “but that was almost a year ago.”

Yelena nodded and was quiet for a little while. Then she wondered, “Why is she special? To you. There were so many little girls. We all were little girls once.”

Her sister didn’t reply straight away and when she did, some emotion slipped into her voice, “She doesn’t have anyone. I checked. Dreykov killed her whole family. And she managed to get away, just her, but now she has nowhere to go and no one to go to. I think she deserves someone looking out for her for once.”

“I think so too. I will look out for her,” Yelena answered decidedly, “I will find her.”

Natasha felt a certain relief wash over her. She knew Yelena would understand. After all, if she didn’t, who would?

*****

Six weeks later, Yelena was staying in a small apartment somewhere in Camden Town in London. It had taken her quite a while to track down the little girl who somehow had slipped through Dreykov’s fingers. She’d survived the Red Room and found a way to use it to her advantage. Yelena decided that as soon as she’d found the girl, she would have to ask her a lot of questions on how she did it.

But the kid was slippery, as Natasha would say. In the last month, she’d moved cities twice and changed the name she went by four times. In St. Petersburg, they called her ‘Anya’ at one of the shelters where she sometimes went for food. In Berlin, the homeless kids mentioned a girl named ‘Lisa’ that fit her description. In Paris, she’d dyed her hair, clever girl, and went by ‘Cleo’ and then ‘Lilian’. Finally, Yelena tracked her to London, where she heard rumours of a ‘Maisie’ living rough, which was funny to Yelena, because that name did not suit her at all. She felt like she knew the girl already.

But the trail kept going cold. Yelena was constantly chasing shadows and rumours, never catching actual sight of her. Until London. Up until a few days ago, the former assassin had spend days gathering information and had gotten a recent description. And then, when she wasn’t even really looking for her, she’d seen a kid on the streets. It was only a glance but Yelena knew it was her.

“Hehe, there you are, you little fish,” Yelena whispered to herself, as she observed a child that had gotten so good at not attracting any attention to herself, that Yelena noticed at once. Right now, she was walking around the farmers market in Islington and she’d already managed to nick two apples, some chocolate and some more chocolate, a can of coke and a loaf of bread. All the food disappeared into her seemingly endless pockets. Yelena smirked at the sight.

“Well, that explains one thing,” she told the little hooded figure from far away, “how you managed to survive the Red Room’s starvation techniques. Let’s see what you do next, rybochka.״

But as Yelena made her way to follow the girl who had just rounded a corner, she saw that she had vanished. “Shit,” she hissed and cursed herself internally for being spotted. Quickly, she started running until she caught a glimpse of the blue raincoat the girl was wearing. Fast a lighting, she darted through the crowds and Yelena had the hardest time keeping up with her. Through the streets she chased her, waiting for her to slip up somehow, but she never did. Nimbly, the girl suddenly sprinted into a narrow little street and Yelena almost ran by it. At the end, she jumped over a few cars and crossed the road, while Yelena had to wait for them to pass before she could follow. She was losing her, a twelve-year-old girl, and it bothered her immeasurably.

“Oh, come on!” the blonde called out, as the kid suddenly did a double take and disappeared into the crowds again. Full of frustration, Yelena shoved people aside left and right to her. And then, pure luck, she recognised the raincoat right in front of her. She grabbed it tightly and tried to tackle the girl to the ground, though carefully, very much aware that this was just a child. However, this child had received years of training in one of the most severe facilities on earth and as soon as she felt Yelena’s tightened grip on her shoulder, she spun around, ducked and flipped her assailant over her shoulder.

With an “oooff” filled with surprise and embarrassment, Yelena hit the pavement. “Seriously?” she muttered and in that moment, she locked eyes with the strange girl. It was like the world stopped for a few seconds. Yelena recognised both the fear and the resolution in the other’s eyes. She opened her mouth to say something to calm her down, but as she moved to get up, the girl kicked sand from the streets into her eyes. Spluttering, the assassin wiped her face and lost sight of the girl. When she pushed herself up, she was gone.

Cursing loudly in Russian, Yelena attracted quite a bit of attention on the crowded streets. She huffed with irritation and walked away. Then she took out her phone and called her sister.

“Did you find her yet?” Natasha answered by way of greeting.

“I lost her.”

“Again?” she sighed, “She’s only twelve, Yelena.”

Full of indignation, she protested, “Well, none of this would have happened if you would have given me the correct information sooner! She is too smart now.”

“Smarter than you?” Some sarcasm laced Natasha’s voice and Yelena could practically hear her smirking on the other end.

“I have sand in my eyes...”

“Poor baby,” She now not even tried to hide the humour in her voice. “Do you need me to come down there to help you?”

“Yes,” Yelena replied at once, mainly because she just wanted to see her sister again, but reconsidered, “No. No, I know you are busy with superhero stuff.”

Natasha was silent for a little while, letting her younger sister sulk for a bit, “Stop chasing her. You’re probably only scaring her away. Remember what they taught us about being followed?”

“Find out who is following you and why.” The tactical theories had been an integral part of their training.

“Exactly.”

Yelena bit her lip and suddenly smiled, “I know where she’s going next.”

*****

As soon as you were certain you’d lost the assassin, you made your way back to Camden Town. For a couple of weeks now, you’d noticed someone on your trail and while you’d had your suspicions, your pursuer managed to remain in the shadows for the most part. Until the last few days: you’d decided to flip the tables on her and tried following her. This all went according to plan, up until today. Still, you figured you could use your little scuffle to your advantage, because now she’d be busy trying to find you. This gave you a chance to check out her apartment and learn more about her.

It hadn’t been hard for you to figure out where she’d been staying. In fact, it had been laughably easy, if you knew what to look for. And so, only half an hour later, you were standing in front of the right building.

Now for a way to get in. You debated climbing up the walls, but there were a few too many tourist out and about for your liking. As a stroke of luck, one of them walked up to the front door and was currently fiddling with the keys.

“Let me try,” you walked up to him with a winning smile. “My mum owns this apartment, there’s a bit of a trick to it...” Without suspicion, he handed you the keys and soon enough, you’d opened the door. “See?” you charmingly beamed up at him. He didn’t think anything of it as you followed him inside.

After waving after the tourist, you walked up the stairs to the third floor. You knew it had to be one of two apartments on the front side of the building. Singing some Russian song to yourself, you settled on trying one of them.

Forcing the lock was a piece of cake and it took you about four seconds to do so. After looking around for a few moments, you knew you’d picked the right apartment. Everything looked staged somehow: there was some furniture and even a few knick-knacks scattered around, but none of it really seemed to reflect a real personality. This was an assassin’s cover story, without a doubt.

“Bed first,” you whispered to yourself, as you lifted up the mattress to look for the most obvious hiding places. Nothing there. Then you checked a few random drawers and eventually made your way to the kitchen. There, on the table and in plain sight, you found a postcard yet to be sent. You flipped the image of Nelson on his column around and on the back was written: ‘The biggest poser of them all, just for you. Love, Yelena.”

“Yelena...” you tried out the name carefully. Suddenly, your stomach made a growling noise and you went in search of some food.

Just as you had your head stuck inside the refrigerator, you heard a sound behind you. Quickly, you slammed the door shut and ran for the bedroom window, but when you got to it, a blonde was blocking the way.

“Hi!” she cheerfully said, which only gave more rise to the panic you felt building up inside of you. So, she continued, “You know, if you are looking for more food, I can make us something.”

“Shit,” you hissed and ran into the other direction.

Behind you, you heard her call out, “You do not have to run, I am happy to cook us something. I am hungry too, you know!”

Not knowing what else to do, you fled into the little bathroom and locked the door. Breathing heavily, you tried your very best to keep your focus, just as you were taught. But panic settled into the pit of your stomach, because as soon as you laid eyes on her again, you were certain: she was a widow. And you’d rather die than be taken back to the Red Room.

“Little fish...” she called out from the other side of the door, “Please just stop. It is no use. That window will not open. I have tried.”

You tried the window and cursed again at finding she was right.

“Yes, much shit,” the voice confirmed.

You slapped the side of your head three times, telling yourself to snap out of it. The only way you are going to survive this, you told yourself, is by staying calm and thinking.

“I just want to talk. And eat.”

But her talking to you didn’t help. In fact, it only increased the urgency to flee you felt. Finally, you let yourself slide down against the door and sighed. If you were going to get out of here, you needed to find a way out of this bathroom first.

Yelena, on the other side, sat down with her back against the door as well. And even though she remembered being that age so well, and she understood all the fear and distrust you were probably feeling right now, she had a hard time finding the right words. So, instead she asked, “During the dropping, how did you manage to escape the dogs? I mean, you cutting the tracker from your leg was smart, I will give you that, but that also makes me wonder: why did they not notice sooner that it was no longer moving? And how did you manage to get out of the forest without dying of frostbite first? I just have a lot of questions, you know, and I really would like some answers, because now I feel stupid for not thinking about all of that when I had my dropping.”

“You wanna know so you can tell them where to upgrade their security?” The words had left your mouth before you could stop them.

“No, rybochka, of course not. Besides, there is no point now. The Red Room is gone.”

You sucked in a deep breath, hopeful for a second, but immediately telling yourself this must be a lie.

“You don’t believe me?” Yelena seemed to sense your emotions, “I have proof.”

Considering all your options quickly, you realised you didn’t have many. “If I come out, you swear not to touch me?”

You heard some movement outside of the bathroom and realised she was getting up. “I swear it. And if I did, you’d probably throw me across the room again.”

Furrowing your brows and wondering if this was another joke, you opened the door and moved out with your back against the wall. There you found Yelena, standing in the middle of the room with her hands up, and a slight smirk on her face.

“Dreykov send you?” you asked, still eyeing all the possible exits.

“Dreykov’s dead.”

You narrowed your eyes, “How do you know?”

“I blew him up. Boom. Just like that,” the blonde smirked again at the memory, “First, we set the Red Room on fire and when they tried to escape, I sabotaged the engine and blew up the ship as they tried to get away.”

“How?”

“I stuck my baton into the propeller and it exploded. Like fireworks,” Yelena nodded proudly.

You frowned again, “There’s no way you would have survived that.”

The assassin made her way to the kitchen, but continued in a conversational tone, “I almost died, but my sister jumped after me and attached her parachute to me. Natasha saved me.”

“Right,” you nodded slowly, still very unsure of what was fact and what was fiction in this story.

“Listen, rybochka, I understand you don’t trust me now. It is okay, but I just want to help you.”

You felt at the lining of your pocket to feel for the reassuring presence of a knife there. “Why do you keep calling me ‘fish’?”

“Because you are slippery and also cute.”

Some strange part of you did like this strange assassin that was probably send to kill you. She felt familiar somehow, like you’d known her for a long time.

“Now what?” you finally asked.

“Now you give me your knife,” she glared at you strictly, like you imagined maybe a mother or sister would, “the one you keep in your pants.”

Rolling your eyes, you produced the small weapon and reached out towards her. But as Yelena tried to take it from your hands, you swiftly kicked her to the side and dashed forwards.

“What was that for!” she shouted out, full of genuine hurt. With a growl, she dodged the next few blows you tried to land. Quickly, you became aware of the fact that she was a lot more skilled than you were but you had one advantage: she tried her very best not to hurt you. Guess there were some upsides to being only twelve.

Yelena jumped out of the way and avoided the chair you threw at her. “Enough!” she warned you, “Stop fighting me or I will have to fight back.” By way of an answer, you kicked the door in her face and sprinted across the little corridor.

This was your mistake, because in those few seconds, you lost sight of her. The moment you rounded the corner, you were tackled to the floor. Yelena quickly straddled your waist and pinned your hands as you tried to claw at her face.

“Calm down!” she instructed loudly, trying to make herself heard over your loud shrieks, “I do not want to hurt you!”

“Maybe I do want to hurt you!” you ground out. Again, you felt a part of you wanting to trust her, but you just couldn’t let yourself do it.

“So stubborn...” Yelena gritted her teeth, as she tried to keep your squirming form in place. “Fine,” she suddenly let go, “As a sign of trust on my part, I will not stop you. Go on, little fish, hit me.”

You balled up your fist and pulled it back, but for some reason, you couldn’t do it.

“Good.” She climbed off of you, “Now we can eat.”

You watched her walk away and wondered, “Are you the Yelena?”

“Yelena Belova, and yes, you have heard from me.”

You had: ‘the greatest child assassin’. It was like she could read your mind, “But I am not her anymore. I am free now.”

“How?”

“I will explain while we eat. Come, little fish,” with a small smile, she motioned for you to follow her.

“Stop calling me ‘fish’!” You got up and walked over to the kitchen.

Yelena was gathering different groceries and you wondered vaguely what on earth she planned on making with all of that. Meanwhile, she stated, “But I don’t know what else to call you. What is your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you whispered, feeling more vulnerable than ever.

Yelena smiled warmly at you, “Y/N is a nice name, rybochka.”

*****

Masterlist

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underdark-dreams · 8 months

Note

Hey idk if you only write Tav x character but I am STARVED!!! Starved I say! For Karach x Dammon content. It just makes so much sense and as someone who remained platonic with Karlach I still wanted her to get some action and seeing how Dammon was RIGHT! FUCKING! THERE! It makes sense that they could maybe hook up and he’s been invested in helping her too and huuuuuuuUUUUUUUUH.

I know you like writing about them tieflings so if eventually if you are able you could write the two of them going at it like the touch starved babies they both are (Karlach for obvious reasons and Dammon bc he’s probably focused on his work most of the time).

I’m still shook over your Rolan x Tav fanfic you wrote and I can’t wait to see what you write in the future!

Dammon x Karlach [Explicit]

Touchable

"Damn I'm good. And you, you're...very touchable." An infernal blacksmith and a Blood War veteran walk into a bar. Who would have guessed that Dammon is a natural when it comes to handling fire?

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle Angst, Sweet/Hot

Word Count: 3,460 [Read on AO3]

“Of course, you’ll need to install it yourself.”

"Of course, of course—can’t touch the giant flaming woman," Karlach grinned at him.

Dammon often noticed that Karlach smiled when things made her sad. He remembered the moment well, remembered each time he'd been given an opportunity to help tune that engine of hers.

Their most recent conversation stuck out with particular pain in his mind.

He'd spent many late nights burning the candles down in his room as he sketched and diagrammed and theorized. No matter how many sheets of parchment he filled, Dammon kept arriving at the same awful conclusion.

Even with his niche skills, he was all out of options for Karlach. She could either return to the sustaining fires of Avernus, or live on this plane however long she could manage before her engine was snuffed out.

Dammon couldn't even calculate whether she had years left or only months. Somehow, that made it so much more terrible.

Karlach took the news with superhuman optimism, the way she approached most things. She thanked him with tears in her eyes for at least giving her back the chance to touch and be touched. For that, her first hug in ten years was his.

Hopefully it wouldn't be the last, Dammon found himself thinking, as her warm body pressed up firmly against him. She wasn't the only one who was long overdue for some physical affection.

Dammon had always thought of her now and then as he worked in his forge. Usually it was idle and passing, wondering whether her infernal parts were giving her any trouble.

But lately, it was hard to shake her from his mind at all. Had she found someone to finally take to bed yet? Surely so, with how many years she'd be confined to unwilling celibacy.

It embarrassed him to admit, but he fervently wished it could've been him. He wasn't much more than a humble smith, and she was practically the city’s hero at this point. How many times had she saved his own life? He'd lost track.

All these thoughts ran through Dammon's mind from where he sat at the bar of the Blushing Mermaid. As he surfaced from his reflection, the din and noise of the place pressed against his ears again.

Not as reputable as the Elfsong, perhaps, but it was closer to his forge. And it was easier to be left to yourself when all the other patrons were already piss-drunk.

"Hey, soldier!"

A friendly hand clapped his back, causing Dammon to nearly choke on his pint as Karlach slid into the seat beside him.

"Sorry," she said with a grimace, but her eyes were sparkling. "Gods, am I glad to see you."

Dammon wiped his mouth in surprise as she swung her very large mug up on the table. "You too, Karlach," he said with a genuine smile. It was like the very strength of his thoughts had conjured her. She looked better than ever.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he admitted. "I thought you'd be out enjoying the new you."

"Fucking someone's brains out, you mean?" Karlach finished for him. Dammon found her bluntness unbelievably attractive.

"To be honest that's why I'm here," she admitted, and rubbed her neck with a hand. "Camp's a bit awkward at the moment. I may have made a pass at Wyll that wasn't, er…enthusiastically received. Think I scared him off a bit," she finished ruefully.

Very much Wyll's loss, Dammon thought to himself. What he wouldn't give.

"Well, you picked the right place for drowning sorrows," he told her aloud. As if on cue, there was a loud chorus of booing as an empty glass went hurtling across the room to land on the low stage, where the half-orc lute player promptly lobbed it back into the crowd with a shattering crash. Dammon raised his arm out in demonstration of his point; Karlach was already cracking up.

"Fucking missed this city," she laughed, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. They each took a generous drink of ale.

But Karlach wasn't distracted for long. "I just wish, you know?" She sighed. "I wish I could be with someone who understands a little bit. Sex is fabulous on its own, but I want everything, all of it."

"What's stopping you?" Dammon asked her, wondering what it would take for her to see him as a very viable option.

"So many things," she said. "I appreciate what you've done for me Dammon, please believe that I do, but…I still feel more machine than Karlach."

"I'm pretty handy with mechanics, you know." Dammon was flirting with her despite himself. He couldn't help it; she was so radiant and lovely as she sat there close beside him.

Karlach finally glanced over at him, and he saw in her eyes that she'd caught it.

"You must know I like you," she said, her voice low but intense. "Dammon, I like you so much. But you're so lovely, and I'm—" She gestured a hand down her front. "—This. Wild, unstable. What if I end up, I don't know, hurting you somehow?” She looked at him with a pained expression. “A guy like you deserves someone tender, and I'm not sure that's me."

All traces of joking were gone; the air between them had grown serious in a second. Dammon's heart thrummed strong against his ribs, and he reached for her fingers before he could stop himself.

"Maybe forget what you think I deserve, and listen to what I’m saying." He shook his head at her. "Karlach, you talk like you're some kind of monster. So you've got an infernal engine in your chest. And sure, you're tall as hell. But I mean, you've got plenty of—you're not short on any of the—" He was casting around for a gentlemanly way to describe her curves and realizing that it probably didn’t exist.

"Spit it out," Karlach teased him. But her expectant expression made his face grow warm.

"I just wish you wouldn't talk down about yourself like that," Dammon explained. "You're very womanly, and plenty desirable."

"Oh," she said, taken aback. Her free hand fiddled with the handle of her mug. "That's…no one's ever said something like that to me before."

What a damn shame that was. Dammon watched the doubt and confusion work over her features. How long had she thought of herself as nothing more than a tin soldier? He'd fixed what parts of her his hands could tend, but something in the way she saw herself was still broken.

Dammon squeezed her fingers under his. "Karlach, there's so much about you to love. That I love. You are…an incredibly beautiful woman. Don't you know that?"

Karlach stared at him with wide eyes; her face looked somehow younger and softer. For a person so sure of everyone else's worth, she seemed so blind and unsure of her own.

"I am?" She asked, so quietly it broke his heart a little.

Dammon could only think of answering with a kiss. He leaned in with a careful tilt of the head, eyes on her mouth—in the last second he was elated to feel her lean forward to close the distance.

He would've honestly, truly believed that there were sparks between them. There was the fiery warmth of her skin, but Dammon also felt a tingling jolt between their lips that had nothing to do with her heat. His insides sung at the feeling of her lips moving over his with just as much urgency as he felt.

Dammon pulled her face deeper to him with a hand at the back of her neck. As his tongue explored her mouth and sought hers, he felt one of Karlach’s palms rest against his thigh. He could have choked on the desire that rose in his throat at her touch.

They both pulled away at the same instant.

"Your place?" She prompted, breathless.

"Mine," Dammon agreed. It was only a few minutes away, and though his bed was cramped even for one, he expected they wouldn't be sleeping much.

Dammon dumped some coin on the bar in a rush before they made their way outside. The cool breeze through the streets made him realize just how flushed and heated his skin was. His arm sought Karlach's waist beside him as they walked, and a thrill went through him at how lovely it was to finally hold her close. She seemed to feel the same.

"Gods, I can't wait to ride you," she said huskily. Dammon tried to keep a grip on his composure; her brazen eagerness made it very difficult. He settled for pulling her into a quick, heated kiss as they continued on.

The two of them practically stumbled over the dark cobblestones of the entryway in their haze, both buzzing with impatience and expectation. By the time his nervous fingers had finally made work of the lock to his quarters, they were on each other before the door had latched behind them.

Karlach's leg hitched up over his hip as she devoured his mouth. Dammon's hand gripped behind her knee at once, holding their bodies steady against each other, kissing her back with sheer years of pent-up enthusiasm.

"You're strong," Karlach said as she surfaced, sounding pleased and surprised at once.

"'I'd hope so, after throwing around that hammer so long."

"You can throw me around." After a pause she added, "That's an invitation."

"I got that," Dammon grinned, absolutely smitten with her, and captured her lips again.

He guided them both toward the far end of his room and tumbled over her when they reached the mattress. His hands grazed the edge of her shirt, desire muddling his understanding of how to undo the many buckles and straps.

She took more pity on him than he deserved. Almost before he could blink she had freed herself of all her clothing, laying back naked before him on his bed. Pale, dim moonlight from the window illuminated her figure.

She was extraordinary.

Dammon quickly tugged his shirt past his snagging horns, wishing to feel her skin against his as soon as possible. Even before his head was free, he felt Karlach’s fingers helping with his pants, tugging them down past his hips and sliding them off onto the floor.

He hovered over her as they gazed at each other. The promise of bare flesh against flesh was almost overwhelming, now they were here. Dammon leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips and then descended to explore her neck.

Karlach’s arms clutched him eagerly as he kissed along her soft, warm skin. When he made his way down to her chest, he placed lips tenderly above her breast where the soft ticking of machinery resounded. It may not be a flesh and blood heart, but its rhythm was no less dear to him. She let out a soft, low hum.

Dammon wished he had more patience to linger. But instead he pushed his body down between her thighs, glancing up to check in on her for just a moment. Karlach watched him with a pained expression, lips parted—as if afraid he might not follow through with what his movements suggested.

He wouldn't be teasing her for one second tonight. Dammon leaned down and ran the warm flat of his tongue up over her center.

His head was jerked slightly to the side as she grabbed at one of his horns with a moan. He didn't break from her, only licked at her steadily, smoothing and spreading her wetness up and over her soft folds.

Even after all the work he'd done to cool her, she was still molten hot under his tongue—he thanked every god in the universe for his natural resistance. His lips closed firmly over her clit, sucking the spot as his tongue rolled her side to side in an achingly slow rhythm.

"Holy fuck," she panted from somewhere above him. "Holy fuck, Dammon—"

He curled one arm under and around her thigh, used thumb and index finger to spread her better for his mouth. He released his lips’ suction with an obscenely wet sound, replacing it with the circling pad of his thumb. She was delicious, but he sought to taste her deeper.

Dammon's tongue plunged deep into her cunt, so far that his nose pressed against where his fingers worked against her clit.

Karlach cried out and squirmed violently under his mouth. Dammon's arms held her firm, angling her hips up and open against his searching mouth. His tongue thrust over and over unto her unbelievable heat as he tasted the sweet center of her, felt her satin walls constrict around him with each nudge of his tongue.

By now his own erection pressed painfully into the bed under him. He only shifted a little and continued on. She had so much more time to make up for, and Dammon was determined to be the one to satisfy her.

It wasn't long before Karlach's thighs were trembling against his ears. "Please," she whimpered desperately, nails clutching his hair to hold his face against her, as if begging him not to stop. He wouldn't have dreamed of it. His mouth worked her over with more enthusiasm than ever, swirling and sucking against her hot folds.

When she came around his tongue, the rush of her heat burst against his mouth and gushed out from her core. Dammon thought he might come just from the way her legs clenched desperately to keep his mouth working over her. He lapped up her sweet release faithfully with his tongue, even as his ears took in the far sweeter sounds of her shuddering, gasping moans.

Only once the twitching waves of her climax were receding under his lips did he glance up over her to see her face.

Karlach’s eyes were closed, an expression of transcendent bliss painting her features. As he watched her pant through parted lips, her eyes opened slightly to look down at him where he still hovered between her thighs. He knew the lower half of his face must be dripping with her climax.

With a guttural sound, Karlach’s legs gripped around his middle to pull him just to where her arms could take over and guide him up over her. Dammon gathered himself just in time to land with palms braced on either side of her.

“Wait—” Dammon started, wishing to clean himself up first, but she was already pulling him into a kiss. She licked across his lips, tasting herself on him, before her tongue demanded entry into his mouth. He yielded more than willingly.

His painfully hard cock grazed her thigh as he moved over her. Karlach groaned into his mouth; the vibration of her lips against his sent yet another rush of blood to his throbbing length.

She broke away with a fresh glint of arousal already building behind her eyes. “Inside,” she directed him. “Right fucking now.”

Dammon needed no more encouragement. With fingers grasping under her back, he firmly lifted her body up and over his lap. The way she landed over him pressed her still-dripping heat against the underside of his cock. A trembling groan escaped him at the sensation. Nevertheless, he gathered himself enough to scoot back against the headboard for support.

Before he could fully prepare himself, Karlach’s hand had guided his tip between her folds. In the next motion, she descended down around his whole length at once.

“Fuck,” Dammon gasped. He wished he could find something more eloquent or romantic to describe the feeling, but his mind was wholly overwhelmed by the fiery warmth that gripped all around his cock. He could even feel her walls still fluttering against him from her recent climax. His fingertips dug into the flesh of her hips.

They crossed glances as she sat still to take him for a moment. Karlach’s eyes shone with desire and excitement, and something almost like love. One of Dammon’s hands slid up along her spine, dipping her neck down, capturing her lips in a tender kiss. He felt his mouth shaking slightly against hers.

“Every time alone, I imagined this,” Karlach breathed against him as they parted.

Dammon thought he might unravel completely at her words. He leaned back against the hard wood behind him, eyes taking in every beautiful inch of her flesh, inviting her to do whatever she wanted with him.

She accepted the offer wordlessly. As her fingers clasped behind his neck, Karlach rocked her hips up and down over his length. He felt his jaw go slack at the feel of her heat surrounding him, taking him, over and over and over—

Dammon’s grip dug into her hips to add more force with each of her rhythmic thrusts down onto him. He gazed up at her with pure adoration as she took him. The feel of her warm skin against his lit a fire in his chest; his cock throbbed against the hot, squeezing silk of her walls.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dammon gasped before he could think. It was the truth, and she deserved to be told it—she deserved everything. He held her tight on his lap as took him, chasing her next release. Karlach’s hips faltered for a moment, and he realized she was already close.

Dammon felt her thighs trembling against him and pushed his back up straight to hold her closer as she rode his length. His palms pressed against her back, strong forearms circling and supporting her as she started to come apart yet again.

And she did—with a shuddering quake, Karlach grabbed his shoulders and let out a jumbled cry that was some mix of obscenities and his name.

She was incredible. Dammon watched the agony and ecstasy on her face as long as he could bear, as she rode out her second orgasm onto him, as her tight heat gripped and pulsed relentlessly around his cock. In the next moment his eyes squeezed shut as he was thrown wide to the delayed force of his own release, his hands spasming against her back as stars burst bright behind his eyelids.

After a long moment filled with nothing but the sounds of them keening and panting against each other, her chin dropped over his shoulder. Dammon felt her arms circle to grip around him tight.

As he listened to her breathing slow, she began to shake against him again.

This time it was from the quiet sobs that heaved up from her chest. He held her head against the crook of his shoulder and stroked her hair as her tears flowed, feeling the droplets splash against and roll down his back.

Karlach cried from joy, blessed relief, aching sadness…from the pain of so much lost time and the knowledge of her limited future. It wasn't fair, none of it, and Dammon didn't know a single thing to say that might ease her burdened heart.

Engine or no, she had more heart than anyone he'd ever known. He could only hold her to him tight as could be.

Seeking to comfort her further, Dammon worked his hips down the bed with her seated on him and tipped their connected bodies gently backwards. She collapsed without resistance on top of and against him. At least he could support her for a while, even if it was just with his silent body.

After a little while, Karlach raised her head to look at him. Her face was streaked with tear tracks, but she was trying to smile through trembling lips. "I'm s-sorry," she choked out.

Dammon’s heart couldn’t bear it. He silenced her at once with a kiss. "Don't apologize to me," he whispered to her as he broke away, "or to anyone, ever."

He gathered her back up in his arms immediately. Karlach didn’t protest, only rested her cheek against his chest with a shuddering sigh. Dammon was vaguely aware of the sheen of sweat cooling all over his bare skin, but with her warm body nestled back up against him, he was more than comfortable.

Dammon pressed his lips to the skin of her forehead. He closed his eyes to focus on the way his heart beat against her chest; the steady hum of her body reverberated against him in response. Despite everything, the sound was dearer to him than he thought possible.

“Ready to go again?” Karlach asked suddenly.

Dammon chuckled low in his chest, feeling the delayed ache in his limbs and realizing a bit late that the night’s exertions had only just begun.

“Give me a few minutes,” he requested with a lazy smile. “We’ve got time.”

#i love them i love them i love them #pls someone tell me their ship name #karlach x dammon #dammon x karlach #kardammon #bg3 karlach #bg3 dammon #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #infernal metal #heartforge

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delta-pavonis · 4 months

Note

Dream Journal Rescue for the wip game, please

WHOO! Thank you for asking about this one, Nonny.

For the 2022 Dreamling Secret Santa I took a risk and wrote something that can be very divisive in fanfic and in fiction in general: first person narrative. I wrote the first half of i had a dream (i got everything i wanted) as a dream journal that Hob used to record his dreams after they came back when Dream got out of the fishbowl in 2021. It draws both from the early comics and from the TV show in terms of events/timeline. This fic got significantly less attention than the others I had written at the time, but it was also the one I was most proud of that year (and that's with Eros in Pragma and Hypnopompia turtur in there!). I am still extremely proud of it because it is, for me, I think very poetic writing. However, the first version of i had a dream wasn't post-fishbowl, but actually started before the fishbowl. Hob still kept a dream journal, and it still started in first person, but the idea originally was that Hob would figure out that something had happened to his Stranger because of his dreams stopping. Which meant that they needed to have enough of a relationship/rapport by the 1910s that Hob would trust that Dream would not miss a dream "date" of theirs without very good reason. Hence, "dream journal rescue" as the name. I only have pieces of the fic, but I keep them because I still viscerally love what I did with i had a dream SO FUCKING MUCH that I want to return to that style at some point. If you have read i had a dream you will see the bits I took from this and transferred to that.

This is totally G-rated and starts before 1889, as Hob is anticipating that next meeting, and then keeps going into 1914. Here's what I have in that WIP file:

21 October 1885

I think I need to write these down. Olive suggested I start writing these down. She is usually right about such things.

Maybe it will bring some clarity to this… mess.

I’m in the White Horse Inn. (It is always the White Horse.)

The year is not obvious from the decor, which is a riotous mix of 1389 and 1489 and 1789. Delicate teacups and straw-covered floor and fireplaces with chimneys. Of course chimneys. But I know, in the way of dreams, that it is the day of our annual appointment, the next one, in 1889.

I shake my coat and hat free of the London morning rain. I am many hours before the time of our appointment. This my usual - I always arrive early. To ready the table and, more importantly, myself for our meeting.

But in this dream I enter the White Horse to find the Stranger already there. He looks exactly as he did in 1789. Which must say something about my imagination since he has always been in impeccable fashion specific to the era of our meeting.

Or perhaps it is because he looks at me with the same burning intensity that made our last appointment so spectacular. His eyes devour me, just as they did when we parted last, and I am absolutely helpless to resist.

I am sitting then, across from him, cups of tea and venison pasties between us. His beautiful pale fingers trace around the gilded edge of the teacup. I am speaking, words tumbling forth, I can hear the droning vibrations in my ears and throat, but it is not where my attention lies.

My attention is riding the wave in his coalblack hair. My attention is wafting the bob of his throat above his high collar. My attention is tracing the sweet pout of his pink lips. My attention is flying through storm-sky eyes.

He reaches across and

Fuck. I can’t write this.

[There are several attempts at starting entries after the previous one. None manage more than a sentence.]

[No attempts at entries are made after 1889.]

1 November 1898

I woke up still drunk and still in very rural Wales (note: never ever always maybe return for Nos Calan Gaeaf in the future) and found this old journal in the bottom of my trunk, so I suppose I shall once again make a valiant attempt to take dear Olive’s advice to sort out the dreams of my Stranger that ever plague me.

(I have heard tell of work by a man named Freud who claims dreams can be used to better understand someone’s psychology and potentially even relieve psychosis. He'd have a field day with me. May I never come within 400 miles of him.)

My drunk mind lacks creativity for scenery and so when I sleep this night I find myself in the same village square I was in only hours prior… however, I am back in time about 400 years? Long before the industrialization of the region, before the extermination of these old traditions by the expansion of “civilization.”

I have just won the silly harvest mare from the clutches of the other young men bringing the last of the harvest in, a horse-shaped horror made from the final stalks of grain reaped. I am now expected to try to sneak this rustling beast into the home where the bulk of the feast is being prepared by the womenfolk without one of them dousing me with washwater. If I succeed in getting into the kitchen unscathed I will win their finest beer and an honored seat at the feast-table. I am always up for new games.

(This is all Iwan’s fault for convincing me to accompany him home for the holiday yesterday and for me getting drunk while they all told me stories of the Old Days. Let it never be said that I abandon a friend in their time of need.)

I easily weave through the crowds of women and children, in their dresses and aprons and smocks, clothing I haven’t seen in centuries but are still as real as yesterday, and cross the kitchen threshold only to find the room empty. An empty kitchen except for the crackle of the hearthfire and my Stranger sat on a barrel in front of it.

The large fire paints him in oranges and golds and he looks warm and inviting in a way that I have never experienced outside of my mind. It is the moment I know for certain that this is a dream.

When he looks up to me he appears confused, brows drawn, lips parted.

I am the first to speak, although words do not come easily to me. “What…?” After our parting in 1889 I can scarce understand why I am seeing him before me now. Although nightmares of the night plagued me in the months afterwards, I had been blessedly free of any night-time visits from my Stranger for almost a decade now. It has been an unexpected boon after so many years of dreaming of him more carnally. I know these facts within the dream. “Why are you here?”

He doesn’t stand, cranes his neck back to look up at me, and I realize he has a low collar this night, lower than it had been even in 1489. I can see flame-gold arcing around the shadowed hollow of his throat.

“It is a Ysbrydnos.” He explains in perfect Welsh, as if I am some child. I do not question why I can so easily understand him despite my mediocre grasp of the language. It is a dream, after all. “Many call on me such nights.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Yes, ‘tis a Spirit Night and you a spirit.”

He tilts his head to the side, bird-like and distinctly not human. “Not as such. But I will attend the dreams of many who call me here this night.” The Stranger’s voice is just as rich and decadent as it is in person. This detail my memory - traitorous bastard it is - does not neglect.

“Of course. Even the version of you I make for my dreams gives non-answers and evasions.” I can feel my whole body hunch in defeat. I wrap my arms around myself, look to the floor. “Just why…” Even my dream cannot steady my voice. “Why does my mind show you to me now? Why this torment?”

“Ah.” Now his voice is choked and staccato. “You did not call me here yourself this night.” Perhaps he is surprised, or ashamed, I cannot tell.

Still, I want to scream. “After last time…” I grit my teeth and continue to stare at the floor.

I see the toes of his black shoes enter my field of view. His chest is perhaps a handspan from mine. “Do you truly wish to never dream of me?” This inquiry is a mocking echo of his usual question, but there is no mockery in his tone. “Given…" He shakes his head, unable to say the words. Say the words he should say: Given what I did to you… Instead he restarts the sentence, "It would be well within your right to request it.”

I sigh. He almost sounds remorseful. What a fantasy this is. How contrived. “No.” And if I ever doubted before that this was a dream the tiny bits of relief I see wash over my Stranger confirms it. His eyes soften minutely. His shoulders relax a hair's breadth. “This might be the only chance I have to ever see you again. And I would take the machinations of my mind, I would take delusions of your regard, over nothing.”

He hums, looking back to the fire as he takes a step away from me. I feel cold and bereft. “This dream is over.”

And then I woke up.

1 Nov 1898 I have not dreamed of him in six months. one year. three years. seven ten fifteen

25 May 1914

After almost 17 years I found myself dreaming of the White Horse last night and when I focused upon it in my mind’s eye I almost burst into tears.

Wait, Olive always said that this was more effective if I narrated as if I was reliving the dream. That I would get more details back that way.

I begin the dream standing outside the White Horse Inn and knowing that I am dreaming. It is the first time I have begun a dream this aware and therefore it is noteworthy.

When I enter I feel his presence before I see it. Through the doors in the back, to the private room that had been set aside for us in 1789. He is once again in front of a fireplace, standing this time, hands clasped at the small of his back as he looks down into the flames.

(Note: Ponder this pattern more later, that I associate him in dreams with fire.)

The door to the room automatically closes behind me and he turns. Despite the venue, he is dressed, as always, in the pinnacle of fashion. All black - of course - but a suit with long jacket and waistcoat and tie nonetheless. The ever-present ruby sits heavy and dark just below his throat.

“I did not intend the delay, Hob.” And doesn’t that throw me for a loop. I did not know prior to that moment that one could get dizzy in their own dreams. “I sometimes forget that time flows… differently… for you humans. But I did think on our last conversation.”

Thirty questions stampede through my mind at once. Everything from ‘Did he just directly admit that he is not human?’ to ‘Which last time?’ I throw all of these aside and instead opt for a cautiously lilted “And?”

A magnanimous wave of his hand and we are sitting, the same tea and sweets that were present in 1789 grace the table between us. I hold my breath. “Perhaps we can pick up, as much as we can, where we were in 1789 before the Lady Constantine interrupted us.” I am so taken aback by the turn this dream has taken that I cannot for the life of me think of what to say next. Luckily, my mind does not require me to as he continues. “I believe you asked my name.”

I almost fall over myself to give him leave to avoid it. “Only if you wish it.” Just don't leave again.

He smiles, something brighter than usual, and it feels like looking into the Sun. “I have a list of titles, which we can get to later, but the simplest name is Dream.”

I clamp down on the anguish that’s in my throat, but it still comes out as a high-pitched wheeze from between my teeth. “Dream?! DREAM?!?” I let myself slump boneless into the chair, impropriety be damned, and splay my legs out in front of me, hands over my face. “Oh fuck my mind and these GAMES. Why can it not send me sweet dreams of you? Of COURSE you are named Dream… you are a dream! Has my subconscious no creativity? Christ in heaven…”

“Hob!” He shouts. He has never shouted at me before. I look to him through my fingers, meet twilight-blue eyes. “My name is Dream of the Endless and I am the King of Dreams and Nightmares.”

Shock, bright white and violent, runs through me and I quite literally fall out of my chair.

And then I wake up.

26 May 1914

I do not think I have ever been more wrong about something in my long long life.

Fuck.

My Stranger is Dream. He lords over dreams and nightmares. They are his Domain, his Kingdom.

F U C K

I knew that he was something Other. But this. This.

We met again last night, in my dreams. I don’t need to work at this anymore (thanks for trying, Olive) because he asked me last night if I wanted to remember this, remember meeting him. Apparently he has some manner of control over such things.

I told him yes. Of course I said yes. But I think I want to continue to keep track of what has happened, what will happen, in my dreams, here in this journal. If only so that I have something to refer to later when I have absolutely zero confidence that this is real. Some proof that I haven’t gone completely barmy.

Last night we talked. Just talked. It was in a liminal space, barely distinct as containing a floor and walls and chairs. All monotone, in blacks and greys and faint whites. It still reminded me of the back room from 1789.

He - Dream - told me so much. More than he had ever said to me in one go ever before. He told me some of his other names: Lord Morpheus (or just Morpheus), Prince of Stories, Oneiros, Shaper of Forms. He has a kingdom, home to dreams and nightmares alike. They are not only his citizens, but he creates them. Creates!

I have so so many questions.

But I must parcel them out carefully. Each answer is a treasure I will hoard.

I returned his generosity with words of my own.

#Dreamling #Pavonis writes #another dream journal fic

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demonslayedher · 14 days

Text

Filler Arc with Character Beats: Intro

Some time ago, I posted how I would direct a Gokangumi (Five Senses Squad)-centric anime filler arc to go between the Swordsmith Village Arc and the Hashira Training Arc, specifically what foreshadowing and character beats I'd try to make it hit, and what small changes I'd make to make it slip in as seamlessly as possible (like Muichirou being curious about the Mark and doing his own investigation into it before Amane simply tells them about it). As it turns out, over a year ago, I tried writing it in fic form, but lost steam after 5577 words because I didn't have the energy for a long fic. But I just reread what I wrote, and man, I looooove thiiiiis. So I'm sharing what I had below! It's basically Episode 1 of Hashira Training all over again, just with the same content presented in different ways from more fanfic-y character perspectives and off-screen character interactions, so this is nice timing for it since episode 2 of Hashira Training isn't out yet. No plans to continue writing it, but please enjoy the setup I had!

----

Nezuko…

“Good morning…”

Tanjirou relaxed deeper into his sleep as the sunlit scene replayed in his mind. For the first time in years, his sister had smiled.

Good for you, Nezuko… I’m so glad.

It was wonderful that she could walk in the sunlight again, and that she didn’t need to wear that muzzle. Finally, she could again speak for herself. All this time hadn’t been in vain.

All this time hadn’t been in vain.

Creating all those demons, granting an excess of his blood to the Twelve Moons, it hadn’t been for naught—Hantengu had lasted a whole night against the demon hunters so that he could witness a transformation Muzan had waited centuries for.

Kamado Nezuko…

His chosen demon, the one who had at last mastered the sun. A pesky one for how she had slipped out of his control, but with the hoard at his disposal, catching one demon wouldn’t be a major obstacle. Or so he had hoped to think, but Nezuko had stood her ground against Daki. With three of his Upper Moons already gone, that left fewer demons who stood a chance of containing her.

It was good he had so many of them, then. Muzan could stand to sacrifice any handful of them in pursuit of the chosen demon.

Hiura had heard a single twang and wondered if it was a biwa when he found himself in a different space than the cave he usually occupied. ‘Different’ rang though his head again to try to describe it, as there was no sense to make of it other than that he must had been in a dream. In any of his waking life, he was certain he had never seen a place like this.

“What is this? How did I get here?”

“What’s going on?”

With all those confused murmurs, Hiura’s dream was not his own, and he concluded that this must have been that space he had only heard rumors of. To his knowledge, only the Twelve Moon demons had ever been there, and there were many more demons here than twelve.

“Silence.”

Hiura shook when that voice spoke, and he spotted the eyes paired with that voice immediately—six eyes. It was his first encounter with any of the Twelve Moons, and it was just his luck that it was the most powerful one. He must have been brought here to die; there was no other reason Upper Moon One would waste time on lesser demons.

“Muzan-sama is present.”

All of Hiura’s shaking went still as his eyes scanned everywhere for the owner of that name. Up, down, sideways, nothing here made sense. There he was directly in front of him, red eyes blaring as icy as they did the night Hiura first encountered and tricked him into turning him into a demon. Tricking him was something Hiura knew he’d never be lucky enough to do again, and even a private inkling of it put him in danger. Muzan’s cells within him reminded him of that at every moment.

Before he had realized it, Hiura was bowing. Everyone was.

“Why do you all cower? You’re all demons who have pleased me.”

Pleased Muzan?

“You’ve eaten humans and gotten stronger. Developed the blood I’ve given you. You should be proud. Unless you’ve done something to displease me?”

Mind games! Muzan was playing them. They couldn’t dare take any pride in his presence. He was looking for a reason to find displeasure in them.

“None of you will speak?”

“Because it’s not enough yet,” thundered Kiritsuna.

Muzan’s lips stretched to a smile that narrowed his eyes. “Precisely.”

Damn that Kiritsuna! Always so self-assured, he must not have felt a shiver of fear in his life! Sucking up as always!

“Why would you have brought us here?” asked Zessou, always at Kiritsuna’s side. Dumb as rocks but always got away looking smart with that pretty face. What was he trying to do with his demon development, improve upon what used to be a lucky human form? Probably didn’t even realize he was doing it.

“I have three openings in the Upper Moons to fill. If any among you can fulfill for me a task, I’ll consider your promotion.”

The demons all grew excited, gasping or exclaiming with some shrill noises. Idiots, all of them. Muzan didn’t like them that much and they were all fools to think so. Hiura found this his chance to distinguish himself by a more productive question. “What task do you wish fulfilled?”

“A demon that has slipped from my control and uses fire against other demons, Kamado Nezuko. I want this demon brought to me, alive.”

Kamado Nezuko? That was a different name than Hiura had thought he heard before about that broad who got away. Fire, though. That was new and unusual. Not something Hiura wanted to deal with.

Not directly, anyway. If there was one demon to lure her out, another demon to contain her, then he could be the one to subdue her. The one to earn Muzan’s true pleasure.

“Why us?” asked some demon Hiura didn’t know. “Why not from among the Lower Moons?”

At this, Muzan’s smile was gone. “They no longer served any purpose.”

Although there was no sound, there was something like a weight pressing on all the demons, like it was across their shoulders and tied around their necks. Hiura wondered if this was Muzan forcing his will upon them to scare them, but he just as soon realized it was his own cells cowering in their own instinct.

If Hiura didn’t fulfill this request, he’d be dead.

“Prove your worth to me by fulfilling this task. My patience has already been tested enough.”

“Muzan-sama!” cried out one who was dumb enough to use that name. “More of your precious blood! Just a little more, and—”

“Moon Breathing, First Form—”

“What?”

“Breath Technique?”

“Dark Moon, Evening Palace.”

The demon who had spoken out and stood up was in pieces, having been torn apart by crescent blades. The other demons around her shrieked and cowered away from the blood. They screamed louder and sloppily scattered faster as Upper Moon One walked among them to the carnage, but Kiritsuna stayed put with no reaction to the blood splashed across his face, and not a tremor as the superior demon stood next to him. Upper Moon One lifted his hand over the gasping, crying demon spilled in pieces on the tatami, who squeaked, “Muzan… sama…”

“If you fail his expectations as you are… then this task… is meaningless to entrust to you.”

Her scream was cut off as he grabbed her head and absorbed it into his flesh. The rest of the pieces of her rattled and kicked until a dead silence; limp, melting demon remnants. Muzan was long gone. Upper Moon One turned his back, leaving them with the words, “Talent will be rewarded… from whomever proves promise…”

Another twang from the biwa and he was gone. Another twang, and another demon disappeared, then another. As the tempo picked up other demons were standing and ready to disappear, and Hiura lunged his hands out to grab Kiritsuna and Zessou’s sleeves. “There’s three spots,” he said, hurrying to get a smile out at them before the twang of the biwa came for them, “spots to reward all three of us, together—”

Tanjirou awoke to the sensation of his Breath being cut off. "Ah!" he sat up with a start, which made Muichirou release his hold on Tanjirou's nose.

"Your response is still pretty dull," he said. He had an impish grin, a light in his eyes, and bandages here and there around his face.

"It's not as if you meant any harm," insisted Tanjirou, but he guarded his nose with both hands anyway.

"How are your injuries?"

"My foot might take some time. How about you and Kanroji-san?"

"We'll probably be back to work by next week."

"What? Amazing! I've got to work on my recovery to match you two!"

"We can't all be geniuses."

"That's right. I heard you're descended from the original Sun Breath user. Your crow told me and Kotetsu-kun."

Muichirou sent Ginko a look through the window, and she cowered from his gaze, for they both knew she wasn't very nice about it. "It's not a big deal. It's not as if I know anything about Sun Breathing. Mist Breathing is so many steps removed from it that I've only got tiny bits and pieces from my ancestors."

"There's got to still be something, though! I even had memories inherited from my ancestor."

"...huh?"

"At least, that's what Kotetsu-kun said. Now that I think about it, he probably only said that to make me feel better. Sorry, it's weird, I know."

"Make you feel better about what?"

"I thought I knew the person Yoriichi Type Zero was based on. The original Sun Breath user, your ancestor."

"Doesn't that not make sense, though? You're the only one in this whole Corp who knows Sun Breathing, after all."

"No, no, no, no, that's just because my family's practiced Hinokami Kagura for generations! There's nothing inherited about it, my father had to teach me everything!" Tanjirou waved his hand as fast as Zenitsu swiping a plate of dumplings.

"But how did your ancestors learn that?"

Tanjirou paused as he thought back to that vivid dream, and how he had asked that samurai how he must be sad with no successors. That samurai had to have had children later if Muichirou was there now, but something felt off about that. Not that he could say what was off about a passing fantasy in a dream, though. It wasn't even real.

"You've even got the same earrings."

"Eh? You've met him too?" he asked and put his hands to his ears.

"Yoriichi Type Zero."

"Oh," he thought back. Now that Muichirou mentioned it, that doll had indeed been wearing the same ones. Tanjirou had never asked his father what made the earrings special, but the samurai in his dream was wearing them too. That samurai still had them when he left, though, while he was saying he wasn't anyone special. He had to have been special, though, for the Kamado family wasn't the only one to keep memories of him. "The original Sun Breath user was mentioned in a diary of one of Rengoku-san's ancestors too. I don’t know if it'll help me use Hinokami Kagura to fight demons better, but his younger brother Senjurou has been searching through their family records to see if there's anything helpful."

"Maybe they'll find something there about the mark."

"Mark?"

"I heard that when I fought Upper Moon Five, there was a mark on my face. Around the same time it would have been visible, I felt my heart rate increase to about 200 beats and my body temperature rise. Based on the 39-degree temperature reading Kochou-san took, I assume it was higher than that."

"You can tell in that much detail? Wow!"

"You should have more physiological awareness while using Breath technique too, you know. Still, it did help to get the number from the thermometer. You should have seen her, I've never seen Kochou-san so shocked, even though I insisted I felt fine."

"Oh?"

"And then the little girl who was with her mentioned you could run a fever of 38 degrees for over three days and feel fine, too," he said, then smiled. "You might be in trouble."

"Oh..."

"You get it though, right? How the feverish state made your Breath technique more powerful?"

"Yeah," Tanjirou agreed, "I don’t know if my fever ever got as high as yours, but being in that state makes me feel like my Hinokami Kagura had more of the power its capable of, and like b-b-b-BOOM, BASH, and like... gggrrrraaaahhh, and... you know?"

"...huh?"

"I'm saying something weird again, sorry. There was something else that helped me fight Upper Moon Four, too. When Nezuko burned my Nichirin blade with her fire, it turned red."

"A red blade? Aren't those supposed to be rare?"

"I don’t know if it's like the red blade Haganezuka-san always wanted to see, it turned black again later. But when it was so hot that it glowed, it cut through demon flesh more powerfully than I've ever felt before. Maybe, you think, it's like the same thing? Getting really hot? That BOOM, BA-BA-BA-BA-BA-BA thing?"

"Huh? You lost me."

"Sorry..."

"It made sense until that last part. Nichirin Blades work because they've absorbed sunlight, so glowing red may be due to an increase in the power of the light. Makes it all the weirder that Nezuko can be in the sunlight now! Doesn't that make her invincible?"

Tanjirou's expression softened at the mention of his sister. "It's such a relief. I'm so glad she can walk around in daylight now. She's out of that danger."

"Still weird."

For someone who had known her for twelve years as someone who could walk around freely in daylight, there was nothing strange about it. To Tanjirou, this was a return to what was just.

In many ways, he enjoyed the return of a sister from long ago. Back in the Swordsmith Village, it was like he had his four-year-old sister back, playing with toys and enjoying being tickled, and as feisty for attention as any little kid. Maybe she'd have enjoyed putting her hair in braids back then too, though her 12-year-old self would have only mildly hummed to herself with pleasure having done up her hair as she liked without needing to bother anyone. Nezuko was always like that, even Nezuko of ten years ago was always patient and obedient and sensitive to others like Takeo and baby Hanako. Maybe if she had been stuck in a box every day she'd have had that much pent up energy back then, too.

Now that they were back at the Butterfly Mansion, Nezuko had the best person around for helping her work off that excess energy: Inosuke, or as he had finally succeeded in teaching her, Boss Inosuke.

"Cave Explorers! Cave Explorers! We're the Cave Explorers!"

"Caff effporor!"

"Wait! Wait up right there!" he pointed to the ground. "You see that?"

Nezuko leaned her head on Inosuke's forearm to see where he pointed. "Hmmm?" There on the ground, stumbling over roots twice its width was a fledgling, too young to have taken a purposeful dive. Inosuke ran over and skidded to his knees for a look, startling the baby bird with his snout and looming eyes, and it stumbled backwards with panicked cheeping. Nezuko knelt and cupped her hands behind it, and it nestled against them for safety.

"Ha! That makes this your mission, Underling! Take that kid and put him back up in the nest!"

Though he was already pointing to where he felt the nest was, he looked upward past his finger, and Nezuko followed the same glance with a curious 'hmm.' The nest was easy to spot, but higher than Inosuke anticipated. He felt a smidge of regret because he didn't want to put a girl on such a risky mission right away, especially not a girl so precious to Tanpachirou. Nezuko had no such hesitation, and her claws scratched the bark as she climbed. In a couple of tricky spots she looked around left and right first, but found new spots to grip as swiftly as Inosuke would have, so he found himself more and more pleased and excited with her progress.

Trouble came when Nezuko's long hair got stuck in the branches. It caused her some distress, but the nest was close enough that she could let her hair be pulled taunt as she stretched. "Hmm... mm!!"

"Like that! Just a little further!"

"Mmnhh!" she grunted and willed her reach longer. Vines poured out her veins onto the surface of her skin and her hand extended such that she could pick up the whole nest if she pleased. Her horn had little room among the branches and pressed against one in such a way that it made her head sink down against her neck uncomfortably, but she paid that no mind as she let the fledgling tumble from her hand to the nest.

"That's it, Underling, nice work! Whoa--watch out!"

A screech zoomed toward Nezuko. When she looked up to see the parent swooping toward her with talons arched, she guarded her face with her own arched claws. She caught the bird's foot, and it reacted by flapping and tugging and cawing. When the feathers flapped in Nezuko's face she closed her eyes and leaned backwards.

"Nezuko!!" Inosuke shouted her name. He could tell exactly where she was going to fall before the branches cracked. He dove and caught her inches before she'd have hit the ground rump first, and then chunks and splinters of branches rained on them. The bird kept screeching from the tree top as it settled into its nest, and Inosuke brushed the branches off the top of Nezuko's head as he asked, "Hey! Are you alright?"

"Thank goodness!" she popped her head up and smiled.

He looked her over for injuries, but had she gotten any, they were already healed. Blood was coming from somewhere, though, and as they both looked for where, they spotted a gash down Inosuke's forearm. "Hngh," he grunted in acknowledgement.

Nezuko's eyes were glued to a bead of blood that pooled and gathered weight, then broke free of the injury and ran a bright red trail down his toned arm. After it came similar crimson streams, leading her attention back to the broken skin and what layers of flesh might had been revealed.

She clenched her eyes shut, grit her teeth, and pulled herself away as though caught on a fishing line. That momentum took her to her feet and a few steps away from Inosuke. Inosuke could sense the tension down her arms as she squeezed her fists, but he had no moment to ask about it before Nezuko cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted into the forest, "Halp! Halp, halp!"

"Help? No, this is nothing, I'm not injured--"

"Ha-a-a-a-lp!!"

"I'm not injured!!"

"Not injured? Then is that paint? I didn't know you were an artist, Inosuke-kun."

He and Nezuko both looked to a tree behind them and spotted a Hashira in a butterfly haori perched there. Shinobu had the same smile as ever and descended on dainty feet. Nezuko approached her with long arms out for a hug, exclaiming with relief that someone had answered her calls, but without Nezuko taking notice, the impetus to hug her faded as Shinobu took a defensive stance. Nezuko, not conscious of this, stood in front of her to insist with gibberish that Boss Inosuke needed help, and Shinobu looked Nezuko up and down and far back up, to the tip of the single horn. She had heard about this form of Nezuko's, but it was unnerving to see it up close, especially when Nezuko posed no threat and basked in sunlight. Shinobu relaxed, then said to her, "the Butterfly Mansion is that way, Nezuko-san. You were calling to the mountains for help. The mountains. I might not had heard you if I wasn't on my way home."

"Thank goodness!"

"Fighting demons?" asked Inosuke.

"Picking herbs," she said, revealing a satchel. "There's a few in here I can spare for that, but all the bandages are at home. Let's go."

"I'm not injured--"

"I don’t specialize in delusions. If you keep saying that I'm afraid I'll have to send you to a different doctor."

Inosuke didn’t know what she meant by that or why it made her aura so threatening, but he didn't want any other doctors. He followed along, keeping an eye on both the girls from behind as Nezuko walked alongside Shinobu, towering over her in scale. As they neared the hospital Shinobu suggested Nezuko go play with Mitsuri while she has a chance before Mitsuri would be cleared to return to work, and the horn and vines faded as Nezuko shrank to a portion of Shinobu's size, hopped up and down and cheered, and then scuttled off.

"It certainly is a wonder to have befriended a demon," Shinobu remarked.

Shinobu and Inosuke continued to her office, where she instructed him to sit down and cooperate as she cleaned the wound and pulled out the splinters. He didn’t like that part, but the moment Shinobu expressed sympathy that he must be scared, he growled that there was nothing scary about it and proved it by staying as still as he could while she poked and prodded around. He convinced himself he wasn't whimpering. Without commenting on how brave he was, for this was of course obvious, Shinobu rubbed on some soothing ointment and began wrapping a bandage.

"This will be prone to reinjury if you catch it on anything. You don’t need stitches, but the skin needs time to heal."

"I'm not scared of this."

"Oh? Then you're not scared of it getting infected and filled with pus? I am."

"Why? It's just pus."

"I wouldn't want anything else to hurt you, after all the care I try to take of you. Is it so bad that I don’t want to see you hurt?"

Inosuke flushed behind his mask, his head went all spacey and fluffy, but something in her words and gaze made his neck tense up and his chest feel heavy. He relented, "You can put a bandage on it if you really want to."

"You won't take it off, right?"

"Hngh..."

"Inosuke-kun. Promise me you won't take it off?"

"Fine. I promise."

She offered her finger. "Pinky promise?"

"What's that?"

"It means you'll break your pinky if you break your promise. You'll give me that proof, right?"

Inosuke felt what she really meant was that she personally would break his pinky, and he respected a threat like that, so he offered his and they shook. Shinobu's voice took a light and airy tone as she sang 'pinky promise' in tune with the movement, and Inosuke was awash with a sense of familiarity, and an odd curiosity for Shinobu. He stared as he pondered, and Shinobu could feel his stare from behind the boar mask.

"What is it?"

"Your pinkies are weak."

"That's not strange."

"Your face is pale. Are you alright?"

Her face betrayed surprise, and then she smiled deeper. "You can tell? That's amazing! It's just low blood pressure. There you go, you're all set. Be careful."

She hurried him out because she had work to do with the herbs, but Inosuke stood outside the office door a moment wondering where he'd heard that song before.

It was another day before Kanao returned from a solo mission. She had been on more of those lately than missions at Shinobu’s side. So long as Shinobu wasn’t away on her own tasks, Kanao would start and end every solo mission reporting to Shinobu. She occasionally had advice, but all Shinobu usually instructed her was simply to cut the head off the demon.

That made it feel simple. Kanao didn’t have to think any more than that, and it had worked so far.

But that was what made her afraid. What would happen if she couldn’t reach the neck, and had to decide something else to do? She was vulnerable when taken by surprise, if ever there was something she couldn’t see coming.

“Good morning!”

Kanao nearly jumped out of her boots the moment an unfamiliar girl’s voice yelled at her. There were just as soon giggling voices that she knew from Kiyo and Naho.

“It’s too late for ‘good morning’!”

“You should say, ‘welcome home,’ Nezuko-san!”

“Nezuko?” Kanao asked, and then she found herself face to face with gleaming pink eyes and a fanged smile.

“Welcome… home!”

What was—but this—she shouldn’t—but--, a swarm of broken thoughts swirled through Kanao’s mind, until at last she blurted, “Is it alright for her not to wear her muzzle?”

“Most people would ask about her being in the sunlight first,” said Aoi, coming up behind Kanao with a bemused smile. She took satisfaction in watching Kanao flush and look back and forth between her and Nezuko as it dawned on her.

“Good morning!” Nezuko added, and Kiyo and Naho started laughing.

When Zenitsu at last returned to the Butterfly Mansion, his sparrow was chirping away something or other at him. He could never make out what words that bird wanted to convey, but it was easy to tell when Chuntarou was angry. He had probably heard how much trouble Zenitsu was in with the Corp. Jiichan might know already, too.

The one time he tried to do something to help, and it was unnecessary. All blew up in his face. What was the point of ever having tried? Ever having tried any of this. All this time in the Corp, chasing some dream that he might be useful to someone someday, anyone, just one person, it’d all been—

“—Aa?”

A heartbeat thumped through his ears. A girl’s heartbeat.

Zenitsu looked up and was caught by the most beautiful—nay, that trite word could not capture it—the most sublime sight he’d ever encountered in his life. It was Nezuko, and she was glistening in the sunlight. She was smiling—smiling at him!!

He screamed.

The other girls surrounding Nezuko all covered their ears as Zenitsu, doing the only sensible thing there was to do at such a glorious moment, confirmed that this meant she was eligible to be his wife now. And then—heavenly sounds!—she spoke words to him for the first time.

“Welcome back, Inosuke!”

There weren’t many quiet places around the Butterfly Mansion when both Inosuke and Zenitsu were home, but since Tanjirou hadn’t spent any time with Zenitsu since they started their mission in the pleasure quarter, he relished in his company despite all Zenitsu’s threats about murdering Inosuke. It was hard to find an opening to get any words in, but Tanjirou found a way to make Zenitsu temporarily quiet and turn his mood around entirely when he thanked him for his words about Thunder Breath and told him how it helped save the day. As Zenitsu skipped off, Genya lied still with a pillow over his head, aghast with how Tanjirou always had such a way of defusing the people around him. He always had the weirdest thing to say.

He wasn’t so bad, though.

Over the course of Tanjirou’s recovery, Inosuke and Zenitsu kept coming and going on their own missions, as did Kanao, though she went on more without her master nowadays. Genya joined them as soon as the little girls got him healed up and fed and back to full strength. From what Tanjirou heard, the demons had been very active lately. Going out of their way to cause trouble instead of keeping to the shadows like they had for centuries.

The one who knew this best was Ubuyashiki Kagaya, confined to his bed and helpless to aid his children. It made meetings with his Hashira harder to find chances for, though any one of them would drop anything but slaying demons in order to answer his call.

“Oyakata-sama, please, don’t trouble yourself to sit up. You don’t seem well.”

“Thank you, Gyoumei,” he replied. Always one to have keen senses, Himejima had stopped him just before he gathered his strength to sit up and be polite with his visitor. He relaxed against his pillow and smiled in the direction of the Stone Hashira’s voice. “I know you’ve had your hands so full, taking over extra territories.”

“You say that like I’m the only one. Shinazugawa, Iguro, and Tomioka have stepped up just as much during Tokitou and Kanroji’s recovery.”

“I’m glad to have you all supporting each other. With Shinobu being busy, I know you’re all spread thin.”

“Could Uzui be convinced to lend a hand?”

“I’ve sent summons, but it doesn’t seem they are reaching him,” Ubuyashiki replied, smiling at the reason why. As the crow told him, one of Uzui’s wives had swatted him with a room and yelled that her husband was retired. He had thought of sending summons to the former Flame Hashira, but he was satisfied that he had only recently begun to take care of himself again, and he preferred to let him rest until the time was right. “Muichirou and Mitsuri will be back to help soon, but with how active the demons are now, I wish for you all to have more help.”

“We’re Hashira, Oyakata-sama. You can entrust us with anything.”

“You say that like you’re unconvinced of anyone else being useful.”

Himejima frowned, for Ubuyashiki was right. “With all due respect, the caliber of swordsmen is not what it used to be.”

“It’s unfair to compare them to the unusually competent Hashira I’m blessed with in this day and age. Their will is the same as yours, Gyoumei. What they need is a chance to rise to your level.”

“You wish to raise new Hashira, you mean?”

“They have a way to go, but they’ve shown amazing resilience in the face of challenges. Even Genya gained experience fighting an Upper Moon, didn’t he? I hope you’ll have more faith in him, and the rest of his batch. If possible, I’d like to see what they all can accomplish against more and more powerful demons.”

“Left on their own?”

“Maybe not right away,” he smiled. “But a mission altogether, that could be good for them.”

Tanjirou was eager to go help his friends and progressed smoothly in his functional recovery training. He made it a point to try to keep his body temperature down to normal levels so that Shinobu wouldn’t hold him back, though. She had asked him about it and smelled angry. For now, under Muichirou’s advice, he kept that phenomenon to himself and waited to hear what Muichirou might find out about it as he investigated what archives the Ubuyashiki family might have. Still, Muichirou was a Hashira, and he wasn’t likely to have much time for that, so Tanjirou would have to try to keep refining that skill on his own (as soon as he was out of Shinobu’s watchful eye).

Haganezuka came and visited him, delivering a sword like Tanjirou never laid eyes on. Although, having commented so, Tanjirou was rudely reminded that he had not only seen it, but he had laid hands on it and nearly ruined it forever. As Haganezuka seemed to be in pain from his injuries and exhausted by the sword polishing process, Tanjirou decided to ask him more about red blades another time.

While the others were busy, Nezuko was there to train with him, and she never tired when running alongside him and cheering him on. She misunderstood and thought she was helping when she lifted up the rock on a rope that Tanjirou was training with. It tasted so good to laugh with her again, like it came out of him in a way that resounded with hers. Nezuko’s laugh was irreplaceable, and it was back. If it weren’t for all the demons out there, he’d happily stay put and bask in it forever.

Chachamaru, one day, delivered a letter. Tamayo and Tanjirou were in ongoing correspondence, and they had already exchanged a few letters since Nezuko mastered the sun. Like always, Tanjirou showed it to Nezuko when she peered over his shoulder at the paper.

“It’s from Tamayo-san,” he explained to her. “She says there’s no need to worry anymore about the sun! Your cells aren’t going to go back to the way they were, you get to stay like this now.”

“Hmm!” she replied with a wide, bright smile.

“Let’s see what else she says. ‘…Like how her blood allowed another demon to break free of Muzan’s control, it might also be used to grant mastery of the sun to other demons.’ Isn’t that great, Nezuko? You could help Tamayo-san and Yushirou-san too!”

“Thank goodness!”

“Thank goodness, for sure! Let’s see. ‘Kibutsuji Muzan is sure to be looking for her…’” he trailed off, his mouth dry at the name that just rolled off his tongue. Nezuko did not seem to recognize the name as well as she’d recognize the cells, and she tilted her head as Tanjirou read on, more quietly. “’With all the increased activity, it will be very dangerous if any other demons know about her abilities. For Nezuko-san’s sake, would you reconsider leaving her in our care?’”

He looked up to Nezuko as soon as he said it, aghast at such a proposition after all this time. Nezuko stared back at him, questioning what such words implied. Did she realize it would leave them separated? When she had heard it from Tamayo directly that one time she had understood, maybe it was harder to understand from a letter.

Even without words, Nezuko had made herself well-understood back then. She had a will of her own, and Tanjirou had every intention to respect it.

He smiled and patted her head. “Don’t worry. We’ll never be separated again. You’re going to be fine. Niisan won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Thank goodness,” she beamed and hugged him.

Tanjirou hugged her back, grateful all over again for how far they’d come.

#my fics #character beat filler arc #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #kamado nezuko #hashibira inosuke #kochou shinobu #kocho shinobu #tsuyuri kanao #tokito muichiro #tokitou muichirou #agatsuma zenitsu #shinazugawa genya #himejima gyomei #himejima gyoumei #ubuyashiki kagaya #and others briefly or mentioned #AND GOSH DANG IT I WROTE CUTE STUFF

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emillyverse · 3 months

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Out of context + Production change + Creators freaking out !

HELLO KOW FANS!!! How are you???

For this weekend's updates we have great news! I managed to finish the 17 sketches of the first scene of KoW (that giant that tells the backstory of the emergence of kings who grant wishes, for those out of date)... YAYYYYYYYYYY!!!

Unlike last week, I won't be showing the comics here, instead I'm presenting them "out of context"!

I'll throw some random images here, and on the day the Comic comes out, you guys try to come back here and try to see where I fit each reference!

Ready?

Set?

GOOOOO!!!!

(throw the images there and run away, good luck understanding them)

Still talking about Comic, I had already mentioned that this is my first time working on a big project. I don't really know how to do things, I just know that I must do them and reach a result that the team and I consider satisfactory.

With that in mind, I was studying some creative processes and came across that of the great director Hayao Miyazaki .

I believe many of you know him, the internet hasn't stopped talking about him since "The Boy and The Heron" won the Oscar for best animation, besides @annymation already mentioned it in her fanfic, but in case anyone is new and doesn't know him, he is one of the biggest names in animation directors in Japan and the world.

Anyway, I discovered that, in his creative process, Hayao Miyazaki began to storyboard his films himself, sometimes without a pre-determined script, he just sat down and sketched out what he wanted or how he visualized the scene happening.

I tried this with a scene I was trying hard to write in my own original story and had a very fun and satisfying result. So, I decided to try to apply this process to making KoW: basically I'm reading the scenes that Anny wrote and trying to capture their essence by sketching as I read. Let's see what happens! Something tells me that this will make the Comic production process lighter and more fun for me, and that's a good thing considering that busy days are coming in my life (good busy days) !

However, this does not mean that the process will speed up. No. It may still be a little slow. But it does not matter. Calmly and with smiles, Me, @annymation and @uva124 let's make it happen!

OOOHHHHH ! AND SPEAKING OF SMILES!

I want to share something that made me, Anny and Aled freak out last night!

Yesterday, we were talking about my favorite topic: Aster.

I arrived presenting an idea I had while hiking — for Aster to get a star tattoo on his chest, with the words "Lacaille 8760" naming it.

And then this happened:

(prints taken directly from Anny's cell phone, showing conversations from our rewriting group. enjoy, we don't do this every day!)

So yes.

That's exactly what you're thinking.

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN

I PRESENT TO YOU.....

THE VISION OF PARADISE !!!! 😍❤️‍🔥

(throw this and run away because asha is chasing me)

This is it.

To the next.

Kisses full of light and stars!

~ Emy

________________________________________

( @uva124 COME HERE LITTLE AND REBLOG WITH YOUR VERSION OF OUR DEAR )

( @annymation @signed-sapphire @chillwildwave @flicklikesstuff @gracebeth3604 @frogcoven88 WAKE UP ALL OF YOU, COME SEE THIS)

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goodluckclove · 1 month

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A Celebration!

So I have memory issues.

It's for a lot of reasons that I won't get into here, it's really not a big deal. But it plays a fun part in the way I form relationships, especially relationships online. To put it simply, I can no longer really remember how I met @mercuryytheraven. I think I made some post asking people to tell me what's keeping them from writing and challenging them to allow me to fix it. We spoke for maybe thirty minutes, and I remember them saying that they were working on a Warrior Cat's fan fiction, which tickled me because I didn't know people still read those books.

They essentially said that they've been trying to write for some time, but no matter what they did they could never get past around 100 words. Something always got in the way. If I'm being honest, I don't remember what I told them, but it must've been insightful because they've been messaging me almost daily ever since.

Eventually my brain just accepted the presence of this bright, dandelion-fluff of a human being. I would look at my phone and say oh hey, it's them again. I would tell my wife about their exploits and we would remember what it was like to be young and even more confused than we are on a daily basis. Quietly, and I have never told them this, but I started calling them my protege. I don't know if that's arrogant or not.

Mercury is such a treasure of spirit. All it takes is one conversation to see the depth of color they carry within them. They care so deeply and about so many things, a quality hard to find in a world so preoccupied with cynicism and meta post-irony. Not only are they already an insightful and deeply curious writer, they are also an incredibly skilled visual artist. I questioned the validity of the high standards they held themselves to again and again - but then I told myself that I once did the same thing.

When I met Mercury they said they never wrote more than 100 words. That was less than a month ago. Today they just finished the first chapter of the Warrior Cats fanfiction they've been brewing for years. It's just over 3500 words.

Friend, do you know how remarkable that is? Can you imagine that big a breakthrough? I cannot stress enough that this is an immense achievement - not unbelievable, very believable, but hard. Worthy of accolades. Worthy of relishing in!

One chapter is never just one chapter. It's the creation of something foundational that didn't exist before. It doesn't matter if it's a fluffy fanfic one shot or literary novel or long-form au or pulp genre shlock. It wasn't here before and now it is and that is one of the most wonderful things in the world to me.

You might know me as someone against the general romanticization of The Writer as an archetype, but it's moments like these that truly call that stance into question. Because what @mercuryytheraven did today, and what many of you do whenever you can, is truly a precious sacrament. It is ritualistic in nature, a human sacrifice where we are the blood offering and the result is a story birthed from our own transfer of matter.

It is beautiful. So please, if you can, send some congratulations in the direction of our friend and colleague. And the next time you reach a milestone you feel is too small to be remarkable, know that you're wrong. You're doing something special for yourself and those around you with every single word you write, whenever you can write it.

So go write it!

#writeblr #writing community #writers on tumblr #on writing #writing #authors of tumblr #actually writing #writing inspiration #writing inspo #writers supporting writers

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pttucker · 5 months

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Aaaand we're done! \o/

Well... "done" in one sense of the word since I just did a very quick search and apparently there's like another 140 chapters of side stories and counting. Possibly post-epilogue stuff??? Didn't look too closely since I don't want too many spoilers if I can avoid it. I already saw one vague spoiler relating to 49% Dokja's side story. 😢😢😢

Though at least now with the main novel+epilogues finished all of the mysteries have been wrapped up (as far as I can remember).

I guess I'm still curious about the Library, but even if that's never touched upon in any side story chapters, I think I kinda get it with my theories and how he broke up into many, many different Dokjas and/or was two different Oldest Dreams?

Oh, and the stuff with Dokja & 1863's Sooyoung's blurry faces, I would have liked to have seen that resolved. There were mentions of Dokja slowly getting less blurry that were kinda glossed over but nothing concrete ever popped up for why his face was blurry or if/when it fully stopped being blurry? Unless I just missed some subtle thing?? Like I guess the epilogue did mention that Sooyoung had fun writing in stuff about him being the Ugly King but I don't think she made him ugly, that was just her memories of him?? Either way, poor Dokja. 😭

idk maybe I'm the only one obsessed with things like that. (I literally eventually started a separate section in my ORV Scrivener notes just for all the times Dokja's looks are mentioned in any way.) So maybe it just wasn't deemed important to "resolve"? Or, again, it was but I totally missed it.

Or maybe there's still something about the Library and his looks (and other mysteries I may not be currently remembering) in the additional 140+ chapters out there?

Unfortunately, English translations of Chapters 552+ don't all seem to be in one place, or at least I wasn't able to quickly find them in my first search. I'll keep looking, though. Might just have to cobble together the chapters one by one from various sources. If anyone happens to know where I could possibly find them...

Though I'm honestly not certain if I want to immediately jump into them or if I want to give it a moment to breathe. I actually am a little bit disappointed that I jumped right into the 40+ chapter epilogues right after finishing the main story since I feel like it stole some of the impact from him finding his two separate ■■.

Even if I was really happy to see how they continued living on in the system-less world and how Dokja felt after losing all of his companions to be Oldest Dream. Seriously you never get to see those sort of things after the "happy" ending.

And I did love seeing how it all tied back together with Sooyoung being the author and ORV itself being Dokja's story (which Sooyoung also wrote!) which in turn is our story and getting to see Secretive Plotter and the 999ths again and poor Joonghyuk just not knowing what to do with himself after losing his purpose as a protagonist and him and Sooyoung wanting to save their precious Dokja more than anything and both of them coming to understand Dokja better and so on and so forth.

But if nothing else, I do really want to finally read some fanfiction and otherwise engage with fandom now that the big mysteries are solved. And if I can make one final prediction it's going to be that the top fanfic is some kind of modern, no powers gamer AU or something. Because that's just how these fandoms seem to go. 😂

Anyway, I think it should be obvious from my many, many ORV posts but I really enjoyed the novel! I am very happy that so many things were so well foreshadowed, so much was so carefully planned, so many loose ends were tied up in a very satisfying manner, etc. It's very impressive for such a long, looooong story. I mean, just the fact that you could get inklings that something was up with Secretive Plotter before we even hit Chapter 100 yet not have the reveal come until much later is impressive just on its own.

I guess if I had one complaint it'd be that I didn't quite vibe with the whole "multiple walls to open the Final Wall" thing. Like, I totally was into the idea of Dokja's Fourth Wall being the largest fragment, and I actually thought that Jang Hayoung's wall was pretty clever since it's all about commenting/texting others when Jan Hayoung was created due to Dokja's comments.

But I'm not quite so into the Wall of Samsara and Wall That Divides Good and Evil. Like, I do get how they relate to the story, what with Dokja literally reincarnating into multiple worlds himself and the fact that a lot of Dokja's main theme was that he didn't nicely fit into a box of good or evil. I mean, his literal Modifiers are Demon King of Salvation and Watcher of Light and Darkness. Not to mention, Dokja went through a ton of the novel saying that just because they were evil in one turn doesn't mean they're evil in the next and vice versa, as well as the fact that the had companions on both sides of the spectrum.

So I'm not saying that they just came out of nowhere, but personally I find something to be a little off with them when compared to the other two walls? idk these are just my initial thoughts and I might feel completely different once I re-read the novel and can better appreciate things.

Which, speaking of, I'm debating with myself if I want to do the truly ridiculous thing and start this entire novel over right from the beginning in true Dokja fashion or if I want to be good and maybe give some other universe some love. I was looking at The World After The Fall but...uh...

Not to say that things with tiny fandoms aren't also good!!!

But it does make me kinda side-eye it a little and wonder if I shouldn't just read Solo Leveling...

...or read whatever side stories I can find, aaaaaalllllll the fanfic, and then read ORV all over again. 😂

We'll see.

FYI when I do start reacting to the side stories I think I'll use the tag "orv side story" if anyone wants to block it preemptively to avoid spoilers.

#thanks for everyone that came along with me on my journey!#I'll have to find my own ORV liveblogger to follow now 😊#orv #orv spoilers #orv novel chapter 551 #orv epilogue spoilers #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv liveblog

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gilly-moon · 5 months

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Also blackice 👁️👁️

when I started shipping it if I did:

Basically from the moment I first saw the movie in theaters lol.

my thoughts:

So??? Many?????? But hey I already wrote most of them out in a long-ass fanfic aka my love letter to this ship

What makes me happy about them:

That they see bits of themselves in each other. That they understand - really understand - what it means to be lonely and how deeply that can harm someone. That they're both angry in their own right about the situation they've been living in for centuries. That they've experienced love and have loved in return, only to have it cruelly torn away. That they find solace in each other over these things, and bring their own strengths to the table as they connect and heal together.

What makes me sad about them:

The idea that they're in a cycle that may never be broken. Fear and the Shadows will always have their claws in Pitch's back, and even if he tries to break free, he will always be haunted by them. Jack may have the Guardians and believers, but what if those believers fade before they can spread his story? Will he be all alone again, invisible and unable to connect to the children he holds so dear? Will the cycle repeat again?

things done in fanfic that annoys me:

Generally just...mischaracterization I think? Sometimes people write Pitch to be way too nice and thoughtful, or Jack to be way too reserved/timid. To each their own, but...them aren't my boys.

things I look for in fanfic:

Possessive Pitch™. It's a requirement. But other than that, I'm generally in one of two moods: bad ending type fics where Pitch is still a Bad Guy and ropes Jack into a relationship willingly or unwillingly, OR mutual recovery fics where they're both trying to heal from the deep wounds isolation has inflicted on them. Bonus points for mention of Kozmotis/Emily.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other:

Hm...I don't think I have any other romantic ships for Pitch. A friendship with Sandy or (a begrudging one) with North would be nice. As for Jack, even though I don't ship it myself and it's technically a crossover, the HiJack artists have successfully invaded my brain with cute af art of those two. Jack & Katherine is also pretty cute.

My happily ever after for them:

'Happily ever after' doesn't quite feel like their brand. They're immortal, after all, so I think they'd define things in simpler terms. But I like to think the point at which they've 'made it' or whatever, is when they're able to rely on each other without question - to be each other's constant in an ever-changing world.

who is the big spoon/little spoon:

Pitch is big spoon, but Jack probably sleeps in ridiculous positions or ends up laying on top of Pitch instead, so spooning is a rare occurrence.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity:

Genuinely these two are so conversation- and touch-deprived that just spending time together is enough. Whether is chatting on the go while Jack spreads his icy magic across the globe, or just hanging out in Pitch's cave, Jack really likes to talk, and Pitch really likes to listen. I also love in fics when they play board games together ♡

#blackice #rotg #rise of the guardians

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boofckenhoobitch · 2 years

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In Another Life - Sparrow! Ben x Reader

A/N: I haven't wrote fanfics/oneshots in so long lmao but I am way too attracted to Sparrow Ben so i have to. Though please forgive me if the style is weird since I used to write on Wattpad a lot so Tumblr format is still something I’m trying to learn lol so bare with me pls and ty and hope you like my writing!

P.S : Let me know if you want a part 2 for the morning after because I thought about it but I don’t seem to have any ideas on how to turn ideas into words lol

Pairing : Sparrow! Ben x Reader (female pronouns)

Word Count : 2500+ (I’m too lazy to separate it into 3 parts so I apologize)

Warning: nothing special, a make out scene, mentions of death

Y/N has the ability of intangibility, it allows her to phase through physical matter. With Y/N’s ability, she was the only one able to survive the first apocalypse. 15 year old Five found her and they spent other 30 years together before Y/N died due to sickness; meaning that Five had lived a whole life with Y/N, only to go back in time and face the Y/N who lived in the present, a week before the apocalypse strike. Five would sometimes tell her stories of them together in the apocalypse and Y/N would just be a good listener and listen along.

You never asked for much in life.

Growing up, you learned not to ask for much given the background of your family. The most that you asked for was for your siblings to stay together as a family, and to have the chance to grow old with the love of your life, Ben.

It’s funny how you didn’t get neither.

With the disappearance of your second favourite sibling, Five then the death of your boyfriend, your family just stopped giving a shit. Missions stopped mattering, people grew more distant and it was everyone for themselves. Your siblings left the house one by one, and eventually you did as well.

There were times where you would try to meet up with your siblings after your departure, doing your best to still connect with them.

Especially Klaus when he was out of rehab, you always tried to meet up with him. You would always ask him if Ben’s with us, asking him questions about Ben and trying to see if Ben said anything back, but Klaus’ answers were always a slurry of nos, along with side comments about anything unrelated.

Eventually you realized that Klaus only really agreed to meet up with you because he needed money from you for more drugs and alcohol, and you stopped trying with your hopeless brother.

Without your brother’s ‘help’ to pass on words from the dead, you eventually gave up. Perhaps that was better for the both of you, as you two were never meant to be.

Life is a cruel mistress as one would say.

After saving the world twice, you really thought that for once in your life, you would be rewarded for the good deeds you had done. Instead, you had to hear your sister tell you that Ben had finally passed on, and that he would love you for the rest of his eternity.

It was heartbreaking that those were his last words to you.

And yet here he is, standing in front of you alive and breathing.

God, if you weren’t in shock, you would’ve socked this man in the jaw for toying with your emotions like that.

“Dad, who the hell are these assholes?” Ben asked Reginald. His eyes scanned the group of the Umbrella siblings before his eyes stopped at you, who was standing at the back of the group, already staring at him with a shocked expression.

“ Y/N?”

His voice brought back a sense of nostalgia, like how your Ben used to whisper your name when you cuddled in his bed, or how your Ben would call out your name with a sense of playful annoyance when you teased him; but he’s not here anymore and this is not your Ben, shown by the roughness of his voice.

His other siblings all stared at you from the second floor railing in shock, surprised that you're alive and siding with the enemy.

Ben froze up, and Marcus stepped in as Number One to take control of the situation. After Klaus’ sad attempt to hug Ben along with the many insults and taunts being thrown to each other, a fight broke out between the two groups (and sadly it wasn't a dance battle).

After fighting some of the Sparrow siblings, somehow you ended up in front of Ben. You both stared at each other in a stand off, you could see the conflicted emotions that swarmed behind his eyes. Hell, maybe he could see yours as well.

Both of you felt reluctant to fight one another yet with a sense of suppressed anger, both of your burning stares slowly toughened. You both stood in front of each other, strangers to one another.

You were the first to swing at him, breaking the tension between you both. Your fist collided with his cheek, his upper body turned to the side with the force. Clutching his slowly bruising cheek, he looked back at you hurt or maybe betrayed? You didn’t care as your own mind was clouded with anger. There was a small pause in both of your movements before his eyes hardening, and he lunged at you.

A tentacle sprung out of his chest, wrapping itself around your wrist. Though it was weird, you missed the weird slimy yet smooth texture of his tentacles. You phased your hand through the tentacle sending a chill down Ben’s spine, as he felt the coldness of your ghostly wrist pass through him. You both fought fiercely, attacking and dodging.

Perhaps the held back emotions you both had finally found a healthy release.

You retreated after seeing your siblings’ defeat, with Marcus’ threat and Ben’s lingering stare on you.

You wished to never see him again.

You hoped that you would never have reopen that closed wound again.

———

The second time you met him was when you went out for a jog with your dumb yet lovable brother, Luther.

Your brother, lost in his own world next to you as you both jogged with the same pace.

Slowly, you felt a presence around you, or above you? Your head snapped up, spotting a few ravens flying as they landed on lamp post and park benches around you, they all stared and observed you. Sensing the danger around you, you tugged on your brother’s shirt as you picked up your pace from a jog to a sprint. The ravens swooped and flew towards you two, they cawed loudly as Luther let out a yelp and turned around, running away from you as the birds chased after him.

Seeing the birds and Christopher, the floating box followed your brother, your sprint slowed as you stared at your brother’s retreating form, trying to catch your breath.

Then suddenly, a sharp pain at the back of your head and darkness.

Ben reached out to grab you before your body hit the floor. His glance softened at your unconscious figure and lifted your body in his arms. His siblings, Fei and Sloane watched him with unspoken pity, knowing how much you their Y/N meant to him before her death.

“ Make sure to catch that big oaf.” He ordered as he turned around, making his way back to the Sparrow Academy with you passed out in his arms.

You blinked away the blurriness as you sat up in an unfamiliar room.

The walls were filled with photos and as you slowly walked towards them to observe them, you can see that they are mostly of you and Ben.

The you in the photos looked different, a lot kinder and more gentle, she smiled a lot bright and so did Ben. Photos of you two on a picnic, napping together, sneaked photos of one another, or photos where either of you were trying to cover your faces with a smile. It’s weird seeing yourself living another life you have no memories of.

Your eyes stopped on one last photo. The photo was slightly covered and hidden under the other brighter photos, a photo of you standing in front of the sunset on a grassy field. Your features were hidden due to the brightness of the sun behind you, but you can see that you were laughing. Your silhouette looked so happy, reaching a hand out towards the photographer.

“ That was the last photo I took of her.” You looked back to see Ben leaning against the doorframe. Your eyes returned to the photo before covering the photo up like how you found it.

The silence was deafening.

“ How… How did she die?” You finally decided to ask, breaking the silence. Ben stayed quiet as the longing look eyes left and the cold look returned. His posture straightened out and his voice toughened as his head turned to look at you.

“ Come downstairs, my family wants to talk to you and your brother.”

Then he left.

———

Honestly after Ben let you and Luther go in exchange for Marcus, you really really thought you wouldn’t see them again. After all, the deal seemed simple enough and you have no need of seeing them again.

But life never gives you what you want.

So here you are, at Sloane and Luther’s wedding as the world outside slowly get sucked into a black hole. The happy couple danced with each other, as everyone either joined them on the dance floor or sat around the venue, eating and drinking away.

You were on your sixth cocktail, sipping away with a tired drunken look in your eyes. You looked around at everyone having a good time as your eyes landed on Ben who was sitting alone by himself, hunched over the table in front of a bunch of… shrimp?

Curiosity got the best of you so you made your way over in your maroon dress. As you sat down next to him, his head slowly lifted up from his arms, and let out a loud burp.

“ How… Charming.” You said as you looked at the man who once always had his guard up.

“ Ten people. Ten people left and they didn’t invite me to their stupid bachelor party.” Ben said, his eyebrows furrowed.

“ Well you didn’t make yourself a very welcoming person, so I get it.” You reply, letting out a laugh into your drink as you went for another gulp. A hand latched on to your wrist as you turned your head to look at an upset Ben.

“ Why don’t they like me?”

“ Because you’re an asshole, and you’ve been nothing but rude to them, so why would they like you?” You laughed as your finished your drink, his hand slipping from the motion of your hand.

“ Why don’t you like me?” That’s when your laughter died down and you stared at Ben, who was already looking at you. You let out a sigh, looking back into your now empty cup.

“ I don’t hate you, if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate. You just…”

“ Remind you too much of him?” You never told Ben about your relationship with the other Ben, but it was rather obvious how you two were together in your timeline while he was with you in his timeline. You simply smiled bittersweetly at Ben.

“ Sometimes, but in different way.”

“ How so?”

“ Ben was always so annoying. A nerd and a party pooper. He’s like a tiny gray cloud on a sunny day.” You laughed at yourself, knowing if he was still here he would’ve pushed you jokingly for those comments.

“ Those are all bad things…” Ben replied, confused at your choice of words.

“ Yeah… and he was the best thing that ever happened to me.” You smiled, recalling all the old memories of you and him.

“ How… how did he die?” Ben finally asked after a short moment of silence.

“ I wasn’t there when it happened, which was the worse part of it all. I was sent away on a different mission, and when I came back? No one would look me in the eyes and tell me what happened. I had to force it out of Diego who told me vaguely what happened. None of them were willing to go in detail anyways, just called it the Jennifer incident.”

“ My Y/N… she died alone on a solo mission. Till this day, we still couldn’t find her body. I prayed that she was alive and was simply in hiding due to the circumstances of her mission, but that faith lead to nothing and I eventually had to face the facts. She’s gone.” Ben looked ahead, his eyes glossed over as he recalled the memories of himself crying over you, never returning to him again.

“ How was she like?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

“ She was kind. Always so kind even if this kindness required her to sacrifice herself. She was stupid but she always looked for the best in people. After all, she saw the best in me.” Ben smiled to himself and you smiled with him.

“ Both of our better halves died and now we’re just left here, isn’t that just so sad.” You laughed as you went to go pour yourself another drink, perhaps to have fun, perhaps to drink your sorrows away, who knows?

The party continued in the back as you two who were sitting at the bar poured your hearts out to each other, drinking more drinks. The topic slowly changed through the night as you two went from talking about your dead ex lovers to your interests and funny stories of your life.

“ No stop, you did not fucking do that to her.” You laughed as you took another sip of your drink.

“ I did! I also blamed it on Alphonso so him and Jayme both got chores for a whole week as their punishment.” Ben laughed along with you as you propped your elbow on the table, holding your head up as you looked at him with half lidded eyes and a small smile on your face. The alcohol in your system slowly introduced a hint of sleepiness as you blinked slowly at the man. You let out a yawn.

“ Okay, I’m gonna head to bed.” You said as you stood up and stretched.

“ Tired already?” Ben asked, looking back at you with a tired smile.

“ Why? You gonna miss me?”

“ Maybe a little.” He smirked as you laughed. You reached out your hand to lightly pat his cheek as you slowly leaned forward, closer to his face. With a few inches left between you two, your eyes scanned his face as his eyes did the same with yours.

“ Goodnight Ben.” You whispered and kissed him on the cheek. You turned around and walked towards the elevator.

The elevator dinged as the doors slid open in front of you. After stepping in and choosing your floor, you leaned against the wall of the elevator, your eyes closed as you tried your best to stay awake. Suddenly, a hand stopped the doors right before they closed, making a noise that surprised you and your eyes to snap open. And there stood Ben, outside the elevator panting as he stared at you, his eyes so intense as a surge of energy suddenly filled your body and you stood up straighter, staring back at the man.

He headed straight to you at the back of the elevator, his hands found their way to your face as his mouth found its way to yours. Your mouths moved together in a unison while one of your arms hooked around the back of his neck, and your other hand reached up to grip his hair, lightly tugging his roots. He let out a groan as your bodies pressed closed to one another, grinding against each other.

The elevator dinged once again, your mouths separated from one another, slightly panting as you staring at each other with lustful eyes.

“ We take this back to my room?” You asked. You tilted your head and leaned into his hand, his fingers brushing your cheek while you played with his hair.

“ Sure.”

And you all know what happened next.

#ben hargreeves #sparrow ben x reader #sparrow!ben hargreeves #sparrow!ben x reader #justin h min #sparrow ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben #sparrow!ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves imagine #ben hargreeves x reader #tua imagine #tua x reader #the umbrella academy #the sparrow academy

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ma3-author2 · 1 year

Text

Campfire Cooking In Another World x Reader

I recently watched this on Netflix, and I like this sort of theme as it gives me the same vibes as "The Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime." So I thought, why not write a fanfic of it?

I also noticed that not many people wrote about this. Also take note: I followed the manga instead of the anime, but I also put the anime part. In simple terms, I mix it between manga and anime.

Chapter 1 : "Discovery of the new world and amazing skills!"

____________________

"So care to tell me how we end up in this place?"

"You're asking me? I’m as clueless as you."

Everything was surprising, hectic, and clueless to both of you and Mukoda after arriving in this fantasy place with swords and magic. Unlike in the modern world,

At the age of 27 and 28, you two are just on your way to work when suddenly a light emerges out of nowhere, and the first thing you see when you open your eyes is this group of people gathered in a circle, wearing domentor clothes, and a girl who was screaming in tears.

"The summoning ritaul has brought you three warriors to us—please save this kingdom of Rayseer!" The lady in tears exclaimed in agony, hoping for the tree warrior to save them.

"Miss, there are five of us; what do you mean three?" You exclaimed, gaining the attention of Lady Tears, and seeing her surprise look, she too didn’t know why there were five people.

"Eh? Oh-"

"I think we should use the "identifier" spell." One domentor said he was holding a seemingly big mirror, and once he made his way to the tree students in front of you two,

He said it out loud: "One is a swordsman, while the other two are spearsmen with holy magic, fire magic, and water magic." an amazing and powerful skill.

But when it comes to the both of you and Mukoda, you two can’t help but feel embarrassed about it.

"You two are... online shopping and... expresswa then spending?" Even the domentor is clueless about what he reads through the mirror.

"At least I have two skills," you muttered, but soon chuckled as you couldn’t believe how you could still feel proud of having that skill while the other students have a good one.

"...Then what about me?" Mukoda murmured, hiding his now-red face.

"Hey, at least you don’t have the spending part. It's obvious how I love to spend money."

As soon as that was done, you two were brought to the king, and when you saw the size of this so-called king, You already knew why the nation is failing, as all the taxes of the people are inside of him.

Furthermore, the royal family is wearing heavenly jewelry.

As the king began his speech, he told some history in regards to the Rayseer kingdom and told the warriors what they were going to do to help them with this mission. You can’t help but feel annoyed as the tree warrior was given a lovely service while you and Mukoda are still in your working outfit, not even getting acknowledged.

'Hey, isn’t this too suspicious?' Mukoda whispered in which you shush him before he got caught.

'Obviously,'

Sighing as you whispered this, you then raised your hand and said, "Excuse me for my intrusion." As you gained their attention, you continued

"But we two are not warriors, and we don’t want to interfere with your work!" And we both decided to look for something else to do when you guys do your things. "

"A-and do you mind sparing some money?" Mukoda cut your speech by asking for money; you wanted to smack your face because of his forwardness. But you saw his point, as you two are not from this world and you need some money to survive.

They didn’t even question you two, and they handed you a bag of money. Afterward, they tossed you two out like you were nothing but dust.

"At least they didn’t throw us in a dungeon," you muttered, counting the gold coins.

Mukoda just chuckled at your statement, agreeing with what you said. But as you two walked around the place, he noticed that people began to whisper and look at you two with a confused look.

"Hey, why are they looking at us that way?"

"I know your sharp Mukoda-san… but I didn’t know that you were this sharp."

Mukoda can’t help but sweat at your sarcasm, and when he noticed where you were pointing, he couldn’t help but be embarrassed at the obvious part.

"R-right… I forgot. Sorry, Y/N-san."

It was a good thing that there was a nearby clothes store, and as soon as you two went in to fetch a new pair of clothing, the saleslady couldn’t help but coo in delight when she saw you two walk out of the dressing room.

"Well, well, doesn’t this suit you two lovebirds well!?"

"L-love birds!" Mukoda exclaimed that a flush was starting to form on his cheeks and couldn’t help but glance at where you were.

"Ma'am, we're not together." You said you were correcting the lady, but in return, she said how she thought you two were, as she wanted to give you two a discount.

In replying to that, you immediately tagged Mukoda beside you, who wasn’t stopping his shuttering noise. "I sometimes forget—huhu—silly me, aren’t I, honey?" You lied, eyeing him to play along.

"Y-yeah, that’s why I l-love you, sweety~ hehe."

"Don’t worry, it's normal to couple!" and here is your charge; this is an extra gift for you two."

"Is it okay if we sell our clothes?" you ask, taking the paper bag from her hand, and when she says that, you can.

You earned more money than you have; the same goes for Mukoda. Even though you are known for your spending hobby, you are also known for getting more money.

As you thanked the lady in the store, Mukoda on the side still couldn’t brush away his blushing face when you suddenly acted like that. But it soon went back to normal when he remembered how you did that a couple of times before.

"Okay, now the clothing is done... "We need to look for an inn to rest for the day."

As you two are now on the lookout for an inn, it wasn’t that long before you two found one, and hearing the owner say how it’s the most affordable on the town, you doubt it.

"I’ll see you tomorrow."

"Okay"

It was a nice room with a rather uncomfortable bed, but you could survive it in a day, and as soon as you laid down, you stretched your arms and thought how you two ended up in this mess so quickly.

Though you hated to go to work to earn a living and were always tired to continue it, if it weren’t for Mukoda banging on your door every morning, you would have been dead long ago.

Mukoda and you met in high school; he's a chill guy who is sometimes an airhead, and you two just clicked, and in the end, you two ended up being neighbors to being a neighbor to work as well.

‘I should check it out now’

"Status display." Once you said this word, a large screen appeared displaying your name, age, and skill, aka job.

‘Okay, they got my name right... my age... *sigh* Why did it need to remind me that I’m 28’

Anything that was identified that you needed to learn, seeing your level and attack. It reminded you of an MMORPG, but instead of autopilot, You need to do it manually.

‘Great... so, basic skill... ‘ Just seeing the big words, you can’t help but sweat at this, and hearing Mukoda in the other room shouting his, then silent...

‘Okay, let’s try not to shout it.’

With a simple touch on the skill, it pops out like an ad, and seeing the skill in front of you, you can’t help but express your interest in it as it is displayed like the word expressway and spending indicated of it.

"Y/N-san! Come look at this!"

"Okay, wait"

As you closed the skill, you made your way to Mukoda, knocking on the door first and walking inside.

"What is it? Where did you get this food?"

"It’s from my skill, and it’s pretty cheap; I also brought your F/F."

As Mukoda showed you his skill, you couldn’t help but tell him how you have the same skill but that yours has things that he doesn't.

"Oh? Can I see?" And when you showed Mukoda yours,

"Y/N-san… "Why is it blank?"

"I don’t know... That’s the expressway, and this is the spending."

Like him, you can also buy food and other stuff, but instead of paying the same fine as him, you only need to spend half of what he does.

"Hey, isn’t that cheating? Why do you have the lowest price?!"

"I don’t know... oh wait." All of a sudden, there was a pop-up message telling you that you earned a point for spending, and once you complete the bar and earn more points, you can have one item for free.

‘So like... a point to point’

"That’s cheating!!"

With the discovery of both of your skills and how Mukoda still felt that he was robbed, you simply told him that he could have the free item just to make him feel less robbed.

"No, no, you have it, Y/N-san."

"If you say so." Rolling your eyes and chuckling at this, as the morning arrived, you two didn’t wait another minute to stay and are now on your way to another town away from this town.

According to the kids, to get to the border from the capital. You two need to go through the town of Kiels. And there will be a horse cart route connecting to it.

"Thank you, kids, here have this" handing them a freshly baked loaf of bread that you brought on your way, thinking it’s best to eat it on your way to another place.

But seeing their skinny look, you just give it to them.

"Thank you, Nee-san!"

Furthermore, if you need to cross the border, you can just get on the next horse cart route to get to the kingdom of Feenen, but sadly, one of you needs to stay behind.

"Kiels-anybody going to kiels-"

"Excuse me! We like to go!"

"Yes, yes, ah- but there is only one available... I think you need to wait for another one, lad," the coachman said.

You and Mukoda couldn’t help but glance at one another, and before he could say anything, you offered to stay behind and wait for the other one.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup. Mister how long will the next one take?"

"About an hour or so."

Nodding at him, you simply told Mukoda that you could just go back to the inn and stay until the next one returned.

"So what would it be?"

In the end, Mukoda stayed behind as well, and you can’t help but thank him for not leaving you behind. "Of course, I would never leave you."

"Oh, Mukoda-san, that’s too cheezy."

"O-oi! Not in that way!"

"If you say so... so, should we go back to the inn or should we explore?" You didn’t even get to finish talking when you heard a passerby talking, and when you heard their conversation, you couldn’t help but sprint to them.

"Excuse me, I can’t help but hear your conversation... What do you mean by "closing the border and no more horse routes?"

"Didn’t you hear? On this day, the king and queen declared that they were closing the border because they couldn’t afford the expense of the route to it"

"And if they continue it, there will be no more food for us... I can feel their struggle."

‘Struggle? Really?’ You deadpan thought,

"I know what you're thinking, Y/N-san... If only they knew, so... what should we do?"

"I think it’s time to see what my other skill is." With that said, you two made your way to fewer people, and when you opened the skill,

You two can’t help but express your joyful look when you find out that you can use your skill to travel to another location, and with this, you don’t need to wait for another hour to go to another capital.

But the only problem was the expense.

"Why is it expensive?!?" You exclaimed that going to Kiel's cost you 12 golds.

"I can share my coins-" But you didn’t let Mukoda continue his speech when you suggested something, and that suggestion was a good one for him.

"What about this? I can be the ride to the capital while you handle the food."

"Ah, sure. I think that’s okay with me. but I can share my-"

"Okay great! Let’s go"

Mukoda only sighs and sweats as you cut his words again, but soon chuckles as you’re a person who has a lot to spend but is not a person who would ask for money as you spend it with your only money.

As you clicked the name, a warning note popped out telling you that if you're traveling with someone, you need to hold their hands for them to join you and in the further down.

"Caution, you might get a side effect for a first-timer." You expect to see a note on what side effect it was, but "Who would put this without giving the description of the side effect!"

"Maybe you'll just be dizzy," Mukoda says, trying to calm you down.

"I hope it will be... Okay, are you ready?"

"O-oh, yeah." He almost forgot the holding part; it’s not like he didn’t get to hold your hand, but is a high five counted as one?

As soon as you felt his hand on your hand, you clicked the button. and within a minute it sends you off to Kiel's place, if you have to rate the ride.

You would rate it a negative one because as soon as you clicked it and landed on the place, it felt like you two went inside a black hole because your whole body circled in one place.

You thanked that you didn’t eat that bread, as you would have been vomiting like Mukoda on your right side. "I-I think it’s best if we should… *blargh* … find another way."

"I-I agree"

Just like the two guys said, the route to the capital has stopped operating.

"So this is the border? Why do people seem so normal when things are this bad?" Mukoda whispered next to you.

"It’s like when you don’t get your paycheck. You need to force yourself to work to have it," you mutter as you still feel a little dizzy.

"HUh?"

"Let’s just go grab some food; I need some water." You didn’t even get to finish when Mukoda’s stomach grumbled.

"R-right, let’s go!"

You two made your stop at a bar and seeing all the people dressed in heavenly armor, swords, and archers lying on the table or beside the table. You can’t help but wonder how strong they can be to lift that much weight, as you can’t even lift yourself to go to work.

"Mukoda-san, I’m going to order, and you go find a table."

"Ah, Y/N-san... were not in the modern world."

"Oh right, I forgot... then let’s find a table."

As you two found a good table to sit at and eat, Mukoda leant his way toward you, whispering another word. "While we're here, why don’t we ask for some information?"

"Good idea; you go to the left; I’ll go to the right." And so you two made your way to your station to ask for some information. While Mukoda got his, you also got yours.

Thanks to the lady you spoke to, you were right on why the king and queen want to close the border, and as soon as you went back, you needed to tell Mukoda that you two needed to leave before it completely closed thanks to the greedy king and queen.

"Mukoda-san, we need to leave soon."

"I know, but I don’t want to use that again," he muttered, not wanting to remember how much he vomited on your skills.

Nodding at him, you look around, wanting to find an idea or plan to use another way without using these expensive skills of yours, and as your eyes land on the people around you.

"Hmm, why don’t we recruit these adventurers?" They can help us, though it will cost as dearly, but it’s a better route than mine."

"I will take that offer."

As you two made your way to the front desk to ask if they would take a bodyguard's request to escort you two, thankfully, they did, and in your opinion, it cost less than yours.

But because of the closure of the horse cart route, the fee was increased a little bit. And if we two need to catch someone’s attention, eight gold coins would be better.

"Hmm… what do you think, Y/N-san?"

"I think it’s fine... Unless you want to ride mine." You didn’t really say it out loud, but this lady in front has a strong hearing sense.

"Oh my~ you two don’t need to do that here!"

Hearing the lady at the front desk, it took you two minutes to understand what she said, and you immediately corrected the awkward situation.

"I-it’s not like that!" Mukoda exclaimed that redness was now covering his whole body.

"Hehe, it’s okay; it’s normal for couples!"

"We're not a couple!" Now it was your time to exclaim, ‘What is it with people thinking that we're a couple!’ Heck, even back then, can they just think that you two are just close without that word?

"Ehem- er, can we bring food with us?" Mukoda muttered, still flustered by what the lady said.

"That is no problem! I will notify you when someone accepts it. Thank you for coming."

After that conversation, it was a semi-awkward situation, but it quickly settled down, as you and Mukoda needed to prepare for this trip and how you two needed to tip the adventurers.

"Okay, first we need a simple starting pack. A cape or warm clothes to protect from the cold, a sleeping bag, and some water jog."

"Water pouch Y/N-san"

"It’s the same thing, and of course, food."

As you two made your separate way to buy all the necessary stuff with all the money you have. You were not even far from where your separation spot is when you jogged toward Mukoda, tagging his back clothes.

Thanks to this, he got startled.

"Y-Y/N-san? You scared me, I thought a holdaper-"

"We have that skill, why are we still buying it through the market? and it cost less."

"I mean, you're right... But would that be dangerous? I mean, they've never seen it before, and it could be suspicious for them if they saw it."

"You do have a point... Hmm, okay, we will just buy the clothes here, but for the food, we will use the skill."

____________________

‘Holy cow, his handsome’ You thought as the leader of the will of metal, Werner introduced himself, giving you a dilfi aura.

"So you two are the clients?"

"Yes, it’s us. You can call me Mukoda and "Y/N-san." Mukado can’t help but sweat at how much you're staring at Werner and has nagged you to snap out of it.

"Oh, ah. "Hello, thank you for accepting this task."

"Nice to meet you."

Just by shaking his hand, you already knew that he worked hard. Werner then continued to introduce his other team. You met Vincent, another handsome guy; Rita, a cute bubble girl; Lamon, an old cool dude; and lastly, Lamanka.

Another Dilf, but a Milf one.

‘I only saw it in games, but now I can see it in person!’ You were happy that these people would be the ones to guide you; you just hoped that they wouldn’t rob you like any other novel there is.

"Well then, to Feenen!" Vincent exclaimed, followed by Rita's chirping voice.

It was like a movie with a theme of fantasy and action, but instead of just seeing it on the big screen, You're watching it in 3D with a twist of reality.

And you can’t help but clap your hands at how fast they work by defeating some monsters.

"The sun is about to set. "Let's camp here." Werner said, and as soon as he said those words, You let out an exhausted yawn as your feet were killing you.

‘Finally’ only to groan when Mukado tagged you towards him.

"Y/N-san, we should cook them a meal... I mean, they helped us survive."

"You're right, sorry. We should get started. Umm… Is it okay if we cook you guys something in a thank you way?"

"It’s no problem for us, but are you sure?" Werner asks, oh, how you see that he has a pure soul. and prayed that he would never change.

"I’m craving some hotpot all of a sudden with this cold," you whispered, shivering with the cold night.

"I agree, but we need fast and simple food; we don’t have that much on us." Mukoda whispered, chuckling, as he brought out a stove. Thanks to the item box, you two don’t need a big bag to carry this stuff, and you also took yours.

"Hey, Mukado-san, Y/N-san, can use the item box? I no wonder your bags are so small." Vincent saw the magic stove you two brought out, and you and Mukoda immediately told him that it was just a small item box.

"Wow, this magical item looks awesome."

"Oh, haha, we got it from someone we know." Mukoda said, glancing at you, to which you shrugged your shoulders. starting your cooking show.

while Mukoda serves a simple sausage soup with bread from another world. You, on the other hand, serve a sweet corn soup with mashed potatoes on the side, which you brought from another world as well.

But before you fed it to the Will of Metal group, you told Mukoda to taste it first. "So, is it okay?"

"Yeah! It’s delicious!"

"Yours as well; we should hand it to them now... They kept staring at us. " You sweated as you said this, as the group has been watching you two like hawks for the last minute.

"Be careful, it’s hot!"

"Whoaa, it’s really the soup!"

It’s not even a minute when they gulp down all the food in one go, and just hearing their compliments in regards to your food and Mukoda. You smiled in pride at this.

‘At last, someone who appreciates my food!’

"What is this? This is so good! This soft little thingy is so delicious!" Rita exhaled, gulping down the mashed potato. "Thanks to this meal, I feel more youthful than ever!"

"I feel like my body is full of energy now!" Lamanka excalimed.

‘Hey, Y/N-san… What do they mean by that?’

‘Maybe it’s the way they compliment? and I would gladly hear it all day!’

Mukoda sighs, and he can’t help but start to sweat at this. When he heard Lamon talk about mind, he used the skill "evaluation," and when he saw Rita’s status, some were adding up thanks to the food.

He can’t help but spit the soup out of his mouth. And seeing him, you asked if he was alright while patting his back.

"Mukoda-san?! what happen? Are you okay?" Vincent asks

"Oh, no, no. I was choked because of the soup."

‘Y/N-san, check their status."

‘What?’

‘Just say evaluation."

With what he said, you followed it and when you saw it. You almost choke on the mashed potato you're munching on, and may I remind you that it’s soft and not a hard potato.

"Y/N-san! Are you okay?" Werner ask.

"Oh, yeah. Just remembered how amazing you guys are for defeating that monster, hehe."

‘Why the fuck did that go up?’ You glance at Mukoda and seeing him looking at his food. You did it as well. It was a good thing that it was only temporary and not permanent, but still.

The food you two made is a bit dangerous, and just seeing Mukoda's expression, you already know what he was thinking. That is, unless you two don’t shut your mouths.

‘We should keep this a secret’

‘Agree’

Unknown to the both of you two is that the Will of Metal group has their own thoughts, but instead of thinking how dangerous their discovery about the food is, it’s: "These two lovebirds are meant to be’

Five days of traveling and the group hasn’t reached the destination; with that time frame, you're starting to think about having a second thought about using the skill you have.

But at the same time, you don’t want to risk vomiting your soul out.

"Don’t worry, in this state, it would take 2-3 more days."

‘Yehpe…’ You thought, huffing as your feet were getting tired with all the walking and walking, then climbing, then walking again.

"Our current location is quite troublesome. It’s not really dangerous. But we have to be careful in the remaining part of the trip." Werner said, and with his words, everyone cheered.

with you and Mukoda joining them, even if you two have a tired expression.

On the way to the next capital, the group found a giant red monstrous boar, and because it was big and they couldn’t carry it all, you and Mukoda asked the group if you two could put the remains in the item box.

Collecting the fangs, meat, skins an various vulnerable from the previous monsters to sell it, there was one info that you learn from which is to leave half of it.

Despise the fact that you and Mukoda can carry it all; you two agreed that you did not want them to be suspicious as you only have a small tiem box after all.

"I’m excited to cook for tonight! It’s been so long since I tasted meat!" you exclaimed, stretching your arms.

"You said it! "I'm going to cook my favorite food!" Mukoda excitedly said, as he too couldn’t wait for it.

With the meat from the boar, it has the same taste as a regular one in your world. And it’s easy to cook; it despise not knowing what it tastes like at first but after the final result.

You and Mukoda made one another's favorite meat. while he cooks stir-fried red pork with ginger. Yours is just simple fried pork with miso soup on the side. What could be better than soup on the side or bread?

Yummy!

"Itadakimasu!"

Just seeing their reaction is enough to satisfy your two hardships in cooking the meal for tonight. And wow, maybe it’s too good, as they're showing too much expression.

‘I’m starting to think of opening a restaurant because of them’ You whispered to Mudoka, to which he simply chuckled. But, like they said, if it’s too much, it will be bad news.

You two are just sharing where you got the ingredient from when all of them went quiet.

"Why are you guys so quiet? Is there something you don’t like about the food?" You ask, but when they simply tell you that it wasn’t that, but the presence behind you,

‘Behind me?’

What do you know? not only for your happiness with their reaction to the food you two made, or cheering the fact that you can finally eat some meat after so long... but this monster behind you also wants to eat it.

"Humans… Let me eat with you!"

Next Chapter ---> Part 2

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