#these two are very stubborn

[dawnseternallight]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Persona 5 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist Characters: Kurusu Akira, Amamiya Ren (Persona Series), Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro Additional Tags: Time Travel Fix-It, Time Loop, Character Study, Second Chances, Akira trying his best to save Akechi, He’s also pretty eh about his own death, give him a break he’s done this a bunch, Akechi is stubburn, but Akira is even moreso Summary:

One of Akira’s greatest regrets in life is being unable to save Akechi. He swears this time he will manage it. No matter how many times he has to die to make it happen.

~

“If you kill me here, I won’t stop.” Akira said, the cool tip of the gun already warming against his forehead, “I won’t stop. I refuse to. No matter how many times I have to try.”

The pressure lessens, Akechi’s surprise enough for him to pull away, even if the difference was only incremental.

It didn’t matter. It never did in the end. No matter what words came out of Akira’s mouth at this point, Goro Akechi never listened. He was too far gone into his fury, raging against Akira’s betrayal.

And why shouldn’t he? For all intents and purposes, Akira had betrayed him. He’d spent months lying to him, working to try and convince the other boy to give up his quest for revenge by whatever means he could.

It felt like Akira had tried everything at this point. He’d done this loop, starting from the day he’d first met Akechi at the TV station and going all the way up to the engine room so many times now. Most loops he didn’t even make it to the engine room, jumping the gun to admit to the other boy the truth of the matter. “I know who you are. I know what you’re planning.” It seemed the only way after watching Akechi self-destruct time and again without the admission.

So he’d changed tactics. If pure friendship couldn’t sway the other boy he’d try everything else. From pleading with him, to outing his evils to Sae early, and even one incredibly disastrous attempt to seduce him. That loop had to take the award for his quickest death. Akechi did not appreciate false interest in that way. It had been unfair to them both to even try. Akira didn’t want a relationship built on lies, and Akechi would grate against any attempt to puppet him in that way. It had been stupid. Desperate, but stupid.

“If I kill you here and now you would be forced to stop.” Fury was the main ingredient in Akechi’s voice, but it held an undercurrent of confusion as well, “Unless, but no. That would be impossible. The metaverse does much, but even it cannot control time.”

At least he was quick enough on the uptake to understand that Akira had gone back in time. Even if he was still denying it. He’d never actually given Akira enough time to explain just how he’d managed to go back in time. If Akechi wasn’t always so shoot first, ask questions later about Akira, he’d have eventually learned that while the Metaverse alone couldn’t control time, a few enterprising gods and beings that existed between certainly could.

“Furthermore, if I kill you, there should be nothing left to send back in time.” Akechi continued, brows furrowed.

Akira shrugged, uncaring of his friend…enemy…no friend’s confusion. He was just waiting on the bullet at this point. This was the point of no return. It was always the point of no return. Without fail every time Akira had told Akechi anything along the lines of the truth, his friend had shot him point blank. Too deep in his own plans to allow for the kind of chaos a time traveler might bring to the equation.

It was predetermined. The rule imposed on him by this deal he’d made. He could keep trying. Keep going. Keep pushing, until one of two things happened: Akira admitted that Akechi was irredeemable and would always fall to his fate, or he accepted Akira’s revelation that he’d known Akechi’s identity this entire time, and had simply been trying to save him from himself.

Akira absolutely refused to give into the first option. He was doing all this because he knew his friend could be saved. It had to be true. If he could defy the fate set upon him by Yaldabaoth and triumph over a false reality, then he could turn the fate of the one person he’d been unable to save.

See, Akira had spent a long time thinking about Goro Akechi. Years after the boy’s death he still haunted Akira’s days and nights. He’d spent so much time wishing for another chance to save his friend who’d had a fate forced upon him, one he’d never asked for. To reach his hand out to someone who’d never had anyone reach for him willingly. To be able to show Akechi that he was wanted. All those wishes had eventually piled up, matchsticks tumbling one after another into a mound set to become a roaring blaze.

And that blaze had become a deal.

Akechi cocked the gun, the sound sharp in the quiet space of the attic Akira had made his home.

His face twisted into a furious grimace, “If you’ve really done this before as you claim you have, you should know nothing will change my mind. Taking down Shido is my only option.”

“I know.” Akira said, “You remind me of that every time.”

He sighed, exhaustion lacing his shoulders. He’d hoped this would be easier. But Akechi was as stubborn as Akira himself was.

Instead he reached up, movement slow, and gripped the gun, pulling it back forward that same incremental distance Akechi had lessened, “Go ahead.” He said, “Do it so I can try again.”

The gun dipped in a sudden and shocking movement, still between them, but pointed more towards Akira’s shoulder. His hand fell with it, leaving Akechi’s expression clear. He was frowning.

“Why?” He asked again, tone softer now, before turning into a growl, “Why do you want to ruin my life? Why continue with this charade?”

Akira tilted his head to the side, “What makes you think I want to ruin your life?”

“You said it yourself, we’re rivals.”

Well, if this attempt was this much of a dumpster fire, Akira might as well throw a bit more fuel to it and set the whole thing roaring.

“Rivals sure, but we’re friends, Akechi.” He stepped back, hand dropping off the gun to run through his hair, forgetting it was even there, still hovering between them.

“Stop spouting nonsense.” Akechi spit, “We are enemies, diametrically opposed in every way.”

A broken laugh burst out of Akira’s chest, and he had to press the back of his hand to his mouth to surprise it. Akira was tired. Tired of trying so hard to nudge Akechi towards the truth. His whole life he’d been more of a listener rather than a speaker. He preferred to take in what others were saying, mull over it, and hand them back the important bits, shiny and polished by care. But there was something about Akechi that made Akira want to become a flood. The other boy pulled words out of his mouth like unstopping a dam piece by piece. First they flowed slowly, and then all at once in a rush.

Well, if Akechi was going to force the truth from him, this time Akira would give it to him, in all its painful messy glory.

“Don’t be an idiot, Akechi. You and I? We’re the same. Two broken boys who were rejected by their families shoved into the same role and told to dance to the tune of a monster who never cared enough to be fair when asking the world of two stupid teenagers.”

He could be talking about Shido. He could also be talking about Yaldabaoth. He was probably talking about them both if he were to be honest with himself.

Akira was on a roll now, heedless of the shock spreading across Akechi’s features,

“You’re so damn stubborn. We’re the same in that too, rushing forward with our truth held between our teeth like pit bulls. For once in my life I am going to be the selfish one, and I’m not stopping until I’ve gotten what I wanted.”

Akira shot him a grin, “I’m a thief, Akechi. I came here to steal your fate. And I’m not leaving without you. So go ahead, kill me here. I’ll just rise up again and try until I can convince you of my feelings. I will try again, and again, and again. As many times as it takes to make you see the truth far before you can self-destruct.”

Akechi’s eyes were wide, pools of crimson opened wide in an attempt to take in the downpour that was Akira’s monologue.

He clenched his fists by his side, still not done, unwilling to let the other get another condescending word out before he’d said everything that had been piling up within him for years.

“I’ll do it to save your stupid, foolish ass, you idiot.” Akira snapped, voice angry and hard, like he had on one sleepless night. He’d been raging at the sky then, Akechi’s face almost visible against the stars, “You died and I had to go on living. I had to step into the world each day knowing I’d failed you. Knowing that no matter what I did it still meant you didn’t get your second chance. And I’d rather fail a thousand times again and again if it meant that eventually I’d succeed.”

Suddenly the gun was back in Akira’s face, “Liar.” The word was a hiss.

“You couldn’t possibly want to save me. Fault my plans? Yes. Push your own stupid ideas of justice? Of course. But save me? Shut up.” Akechi spit the words, his tone solid venom, “I spent months plotting your death, and the death of your friends. I killed Futaba’s mother, murdered your friend’s father. Killed countless others. There is no saving me. You should not want to save me.”

Akira sighed, “Then shoot me. I don’t know how to make you believe I care about you, but I’ll figure it out.” He locked eyes with Akechi, “I swear it.”

They stood there for a moment, frozen in time, hearts beating between the decision. Slowly, Akechi shifted, brows furrowing before his eyes widened, the in the next breath sharpened.

“How many times?”

Surprise made Akira blink, “What?”

“How many times have you done this? And do not try to tell me you can’t remember.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” Akira said, his shock at this question pulling the truth from him, not that he needed to lie. They hadn’t been sparring for a long time now, “Forty seven so far. Forty eight if you count the time I accidentally tripped into your sword.”

Akechi blinked at him, “You mean to tell me that you’ve allowed me to shoot you forty seven times?”

“And impale me once. But that was a genuine mistake. You weren’t even mad at me, in fact we were hitting it off really well in that loop. I thought it might be the one.”

Akira couldn’t describe the look on Akechi’s face. It had twisted up, but not with fury or confusion or even irritation. If Akira hadn’t felt this loop was already irreparably screwed up he’d have thought perhaps Akechi was about to cry.

“I hate you.” Akechi growled, “I—”

And then the impossible happened, tears slipped down Akechi’s face. He tried to glare, and instead it came out just sad.

“I hate you.” He said again, voice hoarse, “I hate you so much. Why do you have to be so damned perfect?”

His hand dropped at last, the gun falling to his side. Even with that concession, something burned behind his eyes, all that potential Yaldabaoth had seen in him smoldering even through hot tears. He stepped back, widening the gap between them to something far less intimate than it had been moments before.

“To think you would subject yourself to being killed by me that many times.” He shook his head, disbelief clouding anger, “You truly are a fool.”

He turned his face up, eyes locking on the cobweb lined ceiling, “I thought perhaps you’d only done it once. A single attempt to right a wrong. Yet here you stand.” Akechi looked back at him, “Tell me about the attempts. I want to know you aren’t lying.”

Akira smiled, hope finally blooming in his chest. Now that he thought about it, he had never managed to tell Akechi he’d been looping before. Even subtly. It was always over far too fast after he’d admitted simply to having gone back in time once.

Of course that’s what it would take. For someone desperate to experience one ounce of genuine care Akechi would believe nothing less than something as fool heartedly desperate as Akira’s scheme.

“I can do that.” Akira nodded, “I’ll give you as many details as you need.” He promised. “Because you deserve at least one person in your court.”

Because it could have just as easily been him on the other side of this mess. Jaded and furious at an unfair world, all his potential driving him to chaos.

“If humoring you has turned you into something sickeningly sentimental then perhaps I will not sit for them all.”

This only made Akria’s smile widen into a bright grin, “I can’t promise that, after all you’re listening to me at last.”

The other boy let out a bitter laugh, “After forty eight rejections, I feel obligated to give into your stubbornness at least once. After all, as you said, we are both akin to pit bulls.”

Akechi tucked the gun back under his coat, into the holster he’d kept it in, “Know this, I will be requiring a detailed explanation of your actions. While your earnest reaction to this conversation and your frankly baffling lack of self preservation has convinced me that you have somehow contrived of a way to go back in time, I need to know more. Perhaps a full explanation will stop me from making what I can only assume is a monumental mistake.”

“Something like that.” Akira’s grin could probably be described as goofy, relief was flooding him.

“Yes, well. I would rather not die in pursuit of my revenge, especially if it is dictated by fate as your story seems to indicate.” His lips twisted into a firm line, “My life is my own, not some puppet master’s.”

“I did try to tell you once someone was trying to control your fate.” Akira mused, remembering the rather explosive reaction he’d received.

“Do not forget you are trying to control my fate as well Akira.”

He waved off the words with the air of someone who had heard far worse, “Nonsense, I told you, I’m trying to steal it.” He shot Akechi a sharp grin, “I am a Phantom Thief after all.”

This prompted a genuine laugh, something Akira thought he’d never get to hear again.

“Indeed you are. Well then, Mr. Phantom Thief, do your worst. Tell me all about this plan to steal my fate.”

And for the first time, Akira knew he had finally succeeded.

[b6d11f]

at my best, I'm a sacrificial lamb at my best, I am something you could handle

[smithsibsceo]

zane and kai bonded in the early seasons by discovering new music together. both didnt really have a great access to it growing up (there was an only an old radio or maybe a scratchy vinyl player in ignacia's library and zane's village had no electricity) so they mainly grew up hearing their respective villages' traditional live music. Hearing those 'end-of-2012-mashup' compilations changed both of their lives

[thesituationship]

I love when Ford haters depict Stan as an openly affectionate, loving and responsible parent. Did we even watch the same show?

[godmonium]

Been thinking about Evil Morty... here are my thoughts it's all jabber it has no reason i was just writing things down

To me, Evil Morty sees himself as on a higher plane to other Mortys because he was able to notice the pattern of abuse he was going through and actually do something about it. To him, other Mortys are inferior for many reasons. Because they aren't smart, they are boot lickers, they appeal as much as they can to their Rick's, they live their lifes with their tails between their legs, blissfully ignorant in a system that destined to doom them from the moment they were made.

Infact, I'd go as far as to say Evil Morty doesn't even care about Other Mortys enough to have an opinion on them outside of them being Pathetic. He doesn't think about them, and when he does, it's with a quiet sort of loathing that solidifies the fact in his head that they are all just tools, and he escaped the toolbox. It's probably how he so easily tossed aside his morality and tortured them. He's just using them for what they were made for.

However it's not as if he wants to be praised for this fact. He's a "narcissist", but he's one with very little care what others think about him. He is self assured that he's better than everyone, he's so confident he doesn't need anyone else to lift him up or calm his insecurities. For some reason I think this makes him oddly terrifying?

Also, Evil Morty is extremely goal oriented. He has a plan, he follows through, and when it fails he just makes another even better plan. He doesn't stew in his misery and disappointment that everything went to shit, he just moves onto the next best thing. He has things to do, places to be, and he refuses to let himself be slowed down by other people unless they help him reach that goal.

[nesting-dreams]

It’s hilarious how Jason and Damian both hate Tim. Like “fuck that guy specifically”. These two might become friends if they discuss their mutual annoyance with Tim.

[lordzuuko]

Gojou Satoru taking a photo with his kouhai he so totally do not have a crush on, he swears! Print | Ko-fi

[fangirl-docintraining]

✨Announcements✨

Cowboy like Me is now currently planned to be 20 chapters total, so I’ll be wrapping it up soon. My plan is to keep the weekly updates, but I take my big board exam not this Friday but next so I may have to take the week off if I don’t have it prewritten in time. But rn we’re chillin

And before yall panic, I do get some time off, and I may take a couple weeks to chill and not post BUT may also keep the shielded, tbh it depends on how bored I get not having to do anything and if I end up writing more 😂 however either way my plan after CLM is to go back and do more one shots and mini series in the SGUN universe so fear not I still need to yap

[pinkautist]

the fury that you get as a result of killing the tower is so much harder for me than the one you get for running away from the adversary, specifically because of the option to just let her vent her anger to you. or rather, ON you. in this version, broken doesn't stay with you. he doesn't comfort anyone. by the end of the torture, you're left completely and utterly alone. all of your voices have left. and i understand why, bc the tower is broken's direct counterpart, and he does sound like smitten when speaking of her, so killing her is a deep betrayal to him. you've hurt him by hurting her, and that hurt carries over to her version of the fury and intensifies when he sees what she has become as a result of your actions. he can't take it, so he leaves you to your torment bc this is what you deserve for defying and then defiling the angel-turning-goddess that he wanted to find comfort in. it was just so sad to me bc i did the adversary version first and found comfort in broken, and then i did the tower version some time after and knew that i had betrayed not just her, but also him

[splashtail]

I'm on my way to Miami and evacuating the hurricane. but im begging you guys to have my family and my coworkers in your best wishes right now

[paper--moons]

Flip!Yamada and Regressor!Aizawa Headcanons

(with CG!Inui)

Before the war, things weren't perfect, but they had a handle on them. Shouta could regress as needed with Hizashi keeping an eye on him, or they could regress together on the rarer occasions that Hizashi also felt small with Nemuri dropping in to keep an eye on both boys. After the war though, when everything has gone to hell? Both are so broken; there's no way around it. There are so many pieces to pick up, perhaps even too many for them to do alone. They have lost the people closest to them and things are different not just on a personal level, but on an institutional scale as well as society itself rebuilds. Big changes are happening all around them, and in spite of having one another it is still difficult to move forwards with the pain that is still quite raw. New wounds and old wounds alike are equally tender, and neither Shouta nor Hizashi feel like they have enough time to pour into the other like they want. Of course this doesn't stop them from trying, but it doesn't halt the grief and loss that seems ever-present in the quiet chaos of the post-war world. There is also a noticeable shift in their regression dynamic as well, with Hizashi needing more time being smaller than he did before. His age seems to drop closer to Shouta's too, another difference that presents challenges when more often than not one's regression now triggers the other's. Though Hizashi is clearly fighting slipping so small—Shouta cannot help but remember how during the...could it even be called an altercation? with Kurogiri that Hizashi had cried, how he had denied he was crying because he was supposed to be a grown man. Shouta didn't realize to the full extent that Hizashi was hurting, but that moment sits with him heavily long after it happens. So heavily, in fact, that Shouta makes a big decision about something that neither of them necessarily like but almost definitely need.

It isn't exactly couple's therapy. Not in the traditional sense, since they aren't having difficulties in their romantic relationship, at least nothing outside of what is healthy. More like...joint counseling concerning their regression and past traumas made fresh again. Doing it together will hold them accountable enough that they actually have to go, or so Shouta had claimed with a sigh. Hizashi is annoyed by such a betrayal, but Shouta assures him he's just as annoyed with himself for not being able to help more. Neither of them are big fans of the concept of getting a third party involved (unless that third party is their big sis, but she isn't around anymore and neither of them want to acknowledge that yet). So they sit impatiently and wait outside of Hound Dog's office despite not wanting to be there, bickering like the children they so often feel like and kicking each other's feet as they argue (which Shouta says is no fair, until Hizashi kicks his metal foot by mistake and winces). It is about that time that Ryou comes to get them, looking utterly unimpressed with their "game" and ushering them into his office. He doesn't exactly specialize in adults, but he cares about their mental health (and it's clear enough that these two fall within his usual domain). The initial session is something that he is prepared for being slow-going based on the short talk he had with Shouta beforehand. It turns out that it's like pulling teeth though—Shouta isn't talkative at the best of times but seems to be trying, his responses coming out awkward yet blunt, whereas Hizashi who is well-known for his loud mouth is suddenly tight-lipped and pouting as he looks pointedly out the window. To call it hesitancy would be generous, as it is closer to outright stubbornness. It's only when Shouta starts struggling with his own answers that Hizashi interjects, making it clear that in order to get him to open up he needs to feel like he is helping someone other than himself.

They work through a few sessions just discussing their regression before Ryou asks if they might allow him to interact with their smaller sides. Not that there haven't been close encounters of the baby kind in the teacher's lounge and dorms before by accident, but for what they are asking of him he needs a more prolonged interaction. Which leads to them making arrangements for aiming to have a regression day in a week's time. A week should be long enough to get used to the idea, but talking about regression is one thing and doing it is another thing entirely. Not that they haven't been middlespacing around Ryou since day one, but this is different. It's difficult . Neither of them are too keen on the idea at first, despite knowing it is something they need to do. It's scary. Letting someone else into that private little world is always nerve-wracking. So maybe they do a bit of scheming. Only one of them will regress and test the waters. It's the perfect plan! Hizashi of course voluntells Shouta that he can be the one to slip all the way first since this whole situation was his idea to begin with. The "suggestion" is punctuated by him sticking his tongue out in a childish fit of pique; Shouta only rolls his eye at the display, but agrees nonetheless. And as planned, the next time they arrive at Ryou's office Shouta is noticeably small, hiding behind Hizashi shyly even as their hands remained clasped together. Like Hizashi, he finds it all too easy—too tempting—to slip small these days. Unlike Hizashi however, his regression itself seems largely unchanged. He still hovers somewhere around two, occupying a nebulous toddlerspace that often dips into babyspace. Like a little spark of electricity, a zap of baby hits them both at the same time. They can't help but notice how nice the space is set up just for them, how Ryou made sure to dress casually in anticipation for tiny tykes that might find his hero costume too much. And Hizashi feels his resolve waver as they enter the office.

Ryou shouldn't really be surprised that they went with a split approach in spite of what they discussed, though he does wish that they had just told him ahead of time. Still, he doesn't give up hope that Hizashi will ease into it. So he is sure to remain patient, and instead encourages Shouta to show him the little backpack of stuff he brought while they give Hizashi a chance to settle in. The contents are about what he expected: a couple of pacifiers, some coloring books, a box of jumbo crayons, and the boy's favorite stuffie. It doesn't go past his notice how Hizashi reacts when something of his is pulled out; apparently Shouta had packed Pompompurin so Chococat wouldn't get lonely, but the hopeful look he gives Hizashi as he passes the stuffie to him tells of a motive beyond that. It's subtle, but there's a crack in the wall he has thrown up when he takes the toy with a tentative smile. Hizashi takes longer to slip down, having committed to staying big that day. But it's a slippery slope from I'm a grown man to I'm a big boy, especially when he's got his playmate waiting on him. The problem isn't in the slipping, it's in the intensity; Hizashi is used to landing somewhere around five on the regression scale, only now he finds himself on Shouta's level and it feels weird. Feels like he should still be big enough to keep an eye on him, not be just as tiny and in need of a watchful eye. In need of help too, as he isn't used to the little things about being littler—like the way he spills juice all down his front because suddenly he is too small for a big kid cup. His frustration that Ryou was cautioned about becomes clear rather quickly as he scrubs at his eyes and fusses over what is really a mild inconvenience. Ryou knows what it is like to get frustrated, to have outbursts—so he recognizes when Hizashi's emotions start to get too big, that these new bouts of frustration are spawned from the worry that those feelings are too much for other people, and those feelings are only piling up.

The session concludes somewhat uneventfully all things considered. Hizashi had a few minor tantrums that were accounted for and carefully de-escalated, and Shouta only tried to chew on a crayon one time until he was successfully distracted by his paci. Though he was more withdrawn than he used to be based on their self-reports (self-reports that they did for each other because they are little shits who would have downplayed or outright lied on their own), which is saying something. Ryou had picked up on the way he would look up at him when he thought he wasn’t paying attention, eye wide and innocent with something akin to want. Not to mention there was the obvious separation anxiety between the two. During the entirety of the session there wasn't once where they were more than three feet apart while they were regressed, and even after they started to come back up that closeness was maintained. Ryou certainly has his work cut out for him, given that neither of the boys have ever really gone through counseling like they should have—the pair having gone to a combined grand total of five sessions since their second year at UA. But with all the other responsibilities they all have to try to fix society after the war, it is nice getting to work with cute tots like them. If nothing else it reminds him that things can get better for them all, as long as they are given the proper support. And support they shall have! Because until they can settle on a babysitter, Ryou has put the rest of the UA staff on baby alert. Meaning that he sends out a sort of blanket email to everyone advising that if they come across any of their fellow staff members while they are regressed to move forward accordingly, or find someone else who may be better suited to help out. Names weren't given, but giving names wasn't necessary. Shouta and Hizashi are, naturally, grumpy about it being broadcasted that they need a babysitter. Perhaps Hizashi moreso, as he whines about how they all don't needta know, says it isn't their business! Only it is their business whether or not him and Shouta are safe—they are heroes too, after all, and that means protecting each other.

While there are a couple potential candidates to act as a caregiver for the boys, it quickly becomes apparent that Ryou is starting to fill that spot. At first, they had considered Taishiro—Shouta's pick, though complications arose around the fact that he isn't a staff member and works out of Osaka. Then they considered Toshinori—Hizashi's pick, and more than just one of convenience. It's hard not to be enamored with the man himself, and the figure of All Might was a big part of their own childhoods as well, which adds to that sense of nostalgia that Hizashi craves. Not to mention Toshinori has wound up keeping an eye on both of them before; the issue with him acting as their primary caregiver essentially boils down to time. He may not be an active hero anymore, but he's playing a major role in overseeing the reconstruction of hero society. Which leaves the boys kind of in the wind for awhile. Try as he might, Hizashi leans more regressor than caregiver these days and Shouta almost always regresses when he does—just another way that they constantly seem to orbit aspects of each other, a part of the universe saying they are inseparable. So while the staff has agreed to take turns and work on establishing some sort of rotation, in the meantime it is left to whoever happens across the tiny heroes. And somehow, nine times out of ten it's Ryou that finds them. Shouta and Hizashi can't decide how it is he knows when they are small and have simply come to accept that he must be some sort of wizard (as is their baby conspiracy discussed in whispers from behind their plushies). In truth, it's because of his senses that are enhanced by his quirk. Most often he knows because he can quite literally smell it on them in the form of baby powder. Or his keen hearing picks up on the sounds of them giggling as they trade back and forth playing with a space helmet and cowboy hat that they've "borrowed".

Somehow it gets to the point where they seek out Ryou for help throughout the day without even thinking about the fact. Never for themselves though! It is either Shouta worrying about Hizashi ignoring the need to be small, or Hizashi worrying about Shouta not taking care of himself—clearly middlespacing as they try to keep it together. They still push themselves, albeit less so as they both begin to allow their new support system to ease into their lives with some hesitancy, afraid that it and the people they care about may be snatched away once again. Unsurprisingly they drop as soon as Ryou reassures them that it's safe to, that they did the right thing coming and finding him. Which means Ryou will have one of the boys toddling behind him while he has to go and toss the other over his shoulder and enforce some much needed small time. It becomes a common sight to see him wrangling the two in such a manner, but it is far from the only common sight this new dynamic brings. Shouta squeezes himself into some small space and camps out somewhere in his sleeping bag? Ryou scoops him up and takes him off to be put in the dorms until he's done with his nap so that his joints won't hurt later. Hizashi has a bad day and gets overwhelmed trying to manage his emotions and starts having a meltdown? Ryou is there to listen, help calm him back down, and remind him that it's okay to cry when he needs to. Before anybody knows it they've got a protective doggy daddy wrapped around their little fingers. Things may not be the same as before and can never be that way again, but that doesn't mean things have to be bad.

[broken-clover]

Alright it's probably a cliche direction for me to take but I do actually have an idea for a writing interaction for Unika and it's just post-DR her and Romeo trying to play overprotective sibling/partner against one another every single time they encounter with Sin out of earshot. It literally always comes to a stalemate when one points out to the other that they've both tried to murder him on separate occasions and are thus massive hypocrites (but also I wasn't as bad as you, so you'd better not even think about trying to pull anything!!)

[sysig]

Go play pretend on your own (Patreon)

[spell-fox]

unstoppable force (tzimisce) meets immovable object (salubri)

Aka: that time the players arranged the salubri sheriff to stay with the dragon throughout their joint house arrest

Two suspects in the murder of the consul of Bath, it was deemed safer for Enes to stay with the local tzimisce Orion during the investigation. Neither is particularly delighted about the arrangement, having spent the previous nights fighting.

Enes remained in her armour, refusing all food, suspicious of what infernalism the koldun might be involved in.

Well, the players managed to get her to eat something and leave her room, so that's a start

[hauntedandmurdered]

— clannibal au headcanon

I'm fully convinced that if Hannibal and Clarice were on a road trip with her Mustang, our girlboss wouldn't let him take over the steering wheel for a second as it was stated in the books she's crazy for cars. Hannibal would just sit next to her studying maps while she's gleefully on a ride into the unknown.

[ohhgingersnaps]

Stars The Same As Ever (Hallmark AU)

14/32 — I Found The Safest Place To Keep All Our Old Mistakes T+ | Sebastian/Farmer Chapter Summary: Ava and Sebastian face a power outage. Technically speaking, there are two beds. Functionally speaking...

Ava quickly realizes that there is only one bed. Technically speaking, there are two beds: The full bed in Ava’s room, and the queen-sized sofa bed in the living room. The problem is that there is a blizzard outside, and now that the power is out, the only source of heat in the entire house is the fireplace, which is in the living room. With the sofa bed. So really, while there are two beds, only one of them isn’t icebox-cold. Power outages aren’t unusual during blizzards, but the only overnight visitor Ava’s had since she moved out here is Deanna. None of her visits ever overlapped with a blizzard or a power outage, and frankly, even if they had, it’s much less awkward to propose sharing a bed with your childhood best friend than with your crush. (Said crush looks twice as pretty as usual in the light of the fireplace. He’s curled up on the couch, quietly flipping through a small paperback novel. It’s one of her grandfather’s, a copy of Dracula. Every so often, he unconsciously presses his knuckles to his lips, and she finds it stupidly attractive. She’s finding out a lot of inconvenient things about herself today, isn’t she?) It’s especially awkward to ask your crush to share a bed if you’ve also recently asked him whether he’s interested in fake-dating you (he isn’t), and then made a fool of yourself by going borderline-postal over a few spirits-forsaken wooden animals. As soon as Ava crossed the lower threshold of the stairs, she’d begun to wonder whether she might have overreacted; by the time she finished building the fire, she’d decided she had. The spark of her fury has now been fully doused, and the embarrassment is beginning to properly set in. There is only one warm bed. Ava would rather freeze than ask Sebastian to share it.

Read the rest on AO3!