#I want to say that even if he resolved the time loop and erased the Reaper who started it all

[dire-kumori]

Oh and i had a question about, like, logistics of the reaper au!

Assuming there's a possible ending where reaper Mike dies and young Mike manages to live... do you think it would change things? Would it matter, in the end?

Or is Evan still fated to die at Mike’s hands, is Liz still fated to die, too? Is young Mike still fated to grow up and get scooped before ultimately dying while trying to kill his younger self? (Which is just... very, very sad and horrific in so many ways)

Because if none of these things happen, it could create a paradox; where would reaper Mike have come from if Evan and Liz never die, and Mike never gets scooped?

...Very good question.

Okay, so I like to think that Reaper Mike's mission is ultimately doomed to fail. Obviously he's never going to successfully erase his past self. But after a while, it's stopped being about 'making things right' and 'protecting Evan' and more about 'hurting (kid) Mike as much as possible,' so that doesn't really matter to him. At a certain point he just kind of stops being 'Michael Afton' and just becomes 'the Reaper.'

But Reaper Mike isn't the only one who's changed by the repeated loops. Even with the memories fragmented, young Mike is living out... weeks? Months? Hell, maybe even years in this loop. He's growing up, essentially, but without aging. I mean, of course his emotional and mental maturity is skewed because - [vague gesture at the blood-soaked death parade he's trapped in] - but after a certain number of loops he isn't quite the same person who would have thoughtlessly shoved his brother's head into moving machine parts. Especially not when he still has the broken images of Evan sobbing hysterically and begging the somebody to stop hurting his brother (the Reaper turning its fury onto Evan for daring to get between him and his target, past Mike throwing himself over Evan's little body in a vain attempt to at the very least save Evan's life, if not his own) floating around in his brain.

Can you tell I'm just word vomiting at this point? I kind of lost track of the original question.

I'm not 100% what this would mean for the Reaper Mike because with past Mike growing and changing, the Reaper would inevitably change as well. I like throwing characters up against forces or circumstances beyond their control, but I don't like saying things are just fated to happen. If things play out the same way again, it's because factors leading to those events are still the same. It might actually be that so long as Reaper Mike is stuck outside of his own time, he's largely unaffected by changes made to his past aside from some ripples in his memories. He was pretty shocked when his past self made choices he was certain he never would have made, such as seeking vengeance for Evan's sake after the loop where the Reaper killed them both. So scratch what I said above, past Mike is growing, while Reaper Mike stagnates, wallowing in his self-loathing.

[jaywalkers]

hiii i recently finished reading sunset like survival (it was so so so fucking good. epic. amazing. is living in the most inner part of my ribs being cradled gently !!!!!!) and i was v bewitched and fascinated by how u handled andrew choking kevin and the consequences in each subsequent loop ! the guilt andrew felt and anger as well towards kevin for not like idk defending himself properly ? (sorry if that’s the wrong word) say no basically . the way kevin assumed their deal was broken bcs andrew hurt him and the betrayal suffocating him GOD ,,,,,,, and how they grew from it just wow wow wow laying at the bottom of ur feet looking up at u in wonder rn !!!!! i could FEEL the choking incident hovering above the two of them like a cloud and to see it resolved in a way that didn’t quite erase it entirely but allowed them to perhaps move on from it ? truly stunning ,,,,

did u have any specific thoughts on why u chose it to be a major focal point during the loop, ur thoughts on how it was handled in canon ( the way it was moved on from ? treated humorously) and anything else rlly that comes to mind ? also i love all ur writing sm <3 the way i’m able to immerse myself in ur fics and see the way u breathe life into these characters is beautiful. truly. ily 💖

ah! first of all thank you so much for not only reading s,ls, but also for loving it as much as you did! it's always such an honour that people took time to experience the gender-crisis fuelled monstrosity that is timeloop au even two years out.

to answer your two questions: (under a cut bcs she's LONG)

i don't like how it's handled in canon, and while i accept it and love to see other people's takes on it (how it is/isn't in character, that it proves/detracts from kevins role), i personally think it's out of character for andrew and is a point of no return for the kandreil dynamic that i love.

the baltimore scenes are the inherent breakdown of the kandreil dynamic; by the end of tkm, it's wildly different to how it was at the start of the novel and not in a way that serves kevin's character well (or even andrew, really). with andrew and kevin's deal percived to be broken and all neil's secrets out in the open, there's no need for kevin to be a part of that dynamic when it comes to the character-driven plot, only the moriyama narrative. andreil become the most prevalent dynamic, and kevin is detatched — shut out, really, right before the apex of his character arc. neil and andrew base their following opinions of him based on his choices during baltimore and give him little further choices.

during/following the choking incident, as seen in kevin and andrew's tiff on the court a few chapters later, andrew wants kevin to prove that he can stand up for himself without andrew's help — maybe to justify breaking the deal off on his end, or out of frustration with kevin. what he doesn't understand is that kevin has a formal relationship with violence, especially as a punishment. he won't — he was groomed not to. that ultimately leaves them at an impasse until kevin gets his tattoo, part of his character narrative that neil and andrew for once are not there to witness because they've excluded him from their inner dynamic by this point in the plot.

so why did i posit it as a major focal point in the loop?

first of all, i'd already decided to set it in the baltimore 'arc', and within that for kandreil in canon there are two key events that influence the rest of the plot, and in my mind the loop happens because these two events are so out of character for the universe that they warp reality. and those two events are:

neil dying (kidnapping)

andrew choking kevin

ergo — both of these things need to be fixed to fix the loop. the loop in my opinion does actually help facilitate that second one, because for kevin and andrew to help neil they cannot be at odds. kevin and andrew's pov's are first because they cannot fix neil's problem without first fixing their own, and that has always been the one of equal standing between them.

andrew wants kevin to stand up for himself and kevin wants to not be afraid. similar things but different at the core of them. the loop forces them into close proximity — kevin is always near andrew's hands and andrew is always near the reminder that he hurt someone who did not deserve it. bridging that is a way of andrew learning that he can relearn trust, and kevin learning he doesn't have to forgive to stop fearing something.

also the loop allows andrew to see that kevin wasn't withholding information because he doesn't care about neil — he was withholding it because he cares about neil. kevin sees that andrew hurt him not because he doesn't care about kevin, but because he was so blinded by fear for neil. it puts them eye to eye and forces them to put things out in the open at a pace that suits them, with a static environment they can't escape. i don't like the choking scene — but it lends well to forcing andrew and kevin to air all their other grievances alongside it.

i hope this all makes sense!!!!!! again thank you thank you thank you for reading it and loving it and engaging in it so fervently! s,ls is a fever dream of a fic but i do dearly adore it and im so glad someone wanted to hear me character dump for a few hundred words about it <333 get off anon so i can kiss you on the lips

[merakiui]

I was wondering I read the Xiao x a sucidal reader and I was wondering if you could do a imagine for that if this is too much please don’t and stay safe drink water and eat and please enjoy your day ^^

Lantern Rite Wishes

xiao x (gender neutral) reader cw: suicide, depression, angst note - somehow the imagine became longer than intended (・・；)

He was just going to get some fresh air and then he’d come right back inside. There was absolutely no way he was looking for you because it was a beautiful night and the lanterns lit up the sky like pieces of sweet, wondrous dreams—

Xiao shakes his head to dispel such thoughts as he steps out into the open, surveying just how empty Wangshu Inn has become. Everyone who isn’t obligated to work is down at the festival, spending time with friends or taking in the sights as a couple. He was going to watch from the balcony, where he’d be alone and unbothered by the usual hustle and bustle of Wangshu. All those plans seemingly evaporate the moment he notices your figure balancing on the ledge, one foot extended outwards.

He’s not sure what overcomes him when he rushes forward, seizing your arm and roughly pulling you backwards. A yelp escapes your dry throat. Just moments prior you were teetering on the edge, teary-eyed and wondering if anyone would miss you. Now you’re falling into someone’s chest as they wrap their arms around your trembling frame in a bone-crushing hug. Your stomach drops when you finally hit the floor, the wooden boards creaking under the combined weight of two people.

For a moment, you struggle to escape Xiao’s hold, but he remains unyielding. It’s during your hiccuping sobs that you finally hear him.

“Why?”

It’s the only word Xiao can utter. Over and over in a confused, pained loop. The thought of watching you fall to your death hurts him, and even though he can’t fully grasp the reasoning behind that feeling he knows it must be a result of your suicide attempt.

“I...don’t know.” Words weigh heavy in your mouth, and your tongue trips over itself in an attempt to explain yourself. But you truly can’t. Why did you do that just now? Were you actually going to jump? “I’m just tired.”

Tired. A word that holds so much meaning. Tired of work. Tired of mundane schedules. Tired of the disconnection between positivity and depression. Tired of life. It’s all so exhausting and the only solution would be to die. That must be it, right?

“You don’t know?” Xiao’s still holding onto you when he mutters that question, his expression clouded in grief and anger. “Why not? You’re a mortal! You should value your life a little because you won’t get another.”

The harshness to his tone startles you and it prompts more tears. Under the lights of thousands of lanterns, the scene should bring happiness and peace. But you’re just sad and tired and absolutely fed up with life.

“I’m sorry, Xiao. I didn’t—“

“Don’t apologize.” His grip loosens slightly and it’s as if his own composure follows. “Just...don’t do it again. If you’re not going to value your life, I’ll value it instead. So don’t do stupid things you’ll regret.”

It wounds your resolve to hear him refer to impulsive desires as stupid and foolish, but it also warms your heart to hear him say he’ll value your life. And you can’t bring yourself to argue. Had you jumped and avoided his outstretched arm, you wouldn’t have had any time to regret the action. Would Xiao have saved you even as you were falling? You’d like to think he would, but even miraculous fantasies remain within one’s mind. And in this reality a dozen alternate scenarios could’ve happened. For instance, Xiao could’ve avoided the balcony and you would be dead.

Your fingers dig into his backside as you finally return his hug. “I’m just tired. I didn’t know what else to do...” A heavy sigh escapes you in that tense moment. “I wish I didn’t feel so lost.”

Xiao realizes he’s been holding you for quite some time and he pulls away in a barely composed fluster, his cheeks reddening ever so slightly. In an effort to change the direction of the conversation, he latches onto the thought of wishes. “Well... I was going to watch the lanterns from here, but then I saw you. I guess we could go see the festival together—if it’ll cheer you up, that is.”

You look at him in mild shock, not having expected him to take the initiative to invite you. “Oh...”

“But you’re probably still scared after what just happened. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Mortals and fear...”

Your breathy laugh startles him. He’s always referring to you as a mortal, as if that’s all you are in his eyes. Although you’re still shaken after your attempt, you feel a little safer knowing he’s with you. And while you may just be another mortal, the fact that he saved you must count for something. Xiao can go on and on about how useless mortals are, but to step in when one was about to commit suicide—perhaps he does have a heart.

“I should thank you for doing that. For stopping me before I could actually do it, I mean.” Your heart hammers in your chest as you prepare to spill your emotional guts in front of the adeptus. “Truthfully, I haven’t been well in a long while. And I don’t think I’ll get better anytime soon, but...I want to forget about tonight. So maybe seeing the festival with you will chase a few bad thoughts away...”

Xiao’s staring. He realizes he should blink and actually say something, but the words won’t form. You’ve always been an honest person, but he’s taken by surprise at how quickly you agree to see the festival. It’s an ideal distraction, isn’t it? All sorts of negativity muddles his brain and he wonders why you’d want to see the festival with him. He’s not exactly a cheery person and you’re not mentally well either. For some reason, he feels compelled to weasel out of this situation—to deflect and avoid it before he freely allows himself to experience this pathetic thing humans call ‘fun.’

“Actually, I think making a lantern would be nice. I could write so many wishes on it. It might even make me feel better, too!” You’d like to think that a simple lantern wish will solve all of the murky depression in your life, but it’s just wishful thinking. “And you can make one with me! We’ll write our own wishes.”

“I guess...”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” You stand on unsteady legs—legs that would’ve broke once they made contact with the ground—and offer your hand. “You can’t get out of this one, Xiao. I’m going to drag you there whether you like it or not.”

He deadpans as he begins to regret his own decisions. But his hand still finds yours and he allows you to pull him up from the floor. Your smile might not shine as brightly as it did before, but it’s still a step in the right direction. And you’re a resilient person; you’re bound to bounce back after this. It just takes time and patience to heal—two things he can easily spare for your sake.

Xiao won’t make any wishes for himself. Rather than selfishly wishing to erase centuries of karmic debt, he’ll scrawl something unlikely on the surface of his lantern. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he’d let you fall, and so he hopes that his wish will come true.

And when your lanterns join the others in the inky sky, Xiao feels relieved to have you by his side, your warm hand gripping his and an infectious smile pulling your lips upward. Your life has so much meaning. It’s just a little foggy and you can’t see it, but Xiao will shine a light through that dark fog to help you reclaim that meaning. In due time, you will find happiness and he’ll be there to guide you to it on a bumpy path.

Without realizing it, his love for you blossoms and it’s a quiet flower shrouded in its own darkness. 

No matter what happens, give (Name) the happiness they deserve. That’s all I’ll wish for.

[wrenhyperfixates]

Not So Alone

Pairing: Loki x female teen!reader (platonic) Summary: Meeting a young fan of his gives Loki some renewed hope. Warnings: none :) A/N: Here you go nonny! Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki was never one any person thought of much note, a sad fact he’d near resigned himself to, setting his face and body into an unbothered mask. The outside, at least, convinced everyone else, though no amount of staring at an emotionless reflection could impress upon Loki that he didn’t care. His mind was far too tumultuous for that. Anyway, for being the God of Lies, Loki has never figured out how to effectively lie to himself.

Five years in the Avengers Tower was far more than enough for the downtrodden god, and now he lived in an unremarkable apartment building that held some kind of charm to him, if solely for the reason there was a small, privately owned bookshop beneath it. He enjoyed the neatly arranged books in the display window, greeting him as he walked up the three stairs to unlock the building crammed in with so many others every day. Once his courage had been gathered two months after his initial move, he’d begun frequenting the store often.

Regardless of whether he was able to escape the relative misery he found himself stewing in by living in the Tower, he still had to work with the team that still managed to hold some amount of contempt for him even after he’d proved himself repeatedly. Simply, they weren’t cut from the same cloth, and when trying to sew the fabrics together, they clashed something awful. A truly dreadful state for a team of superheroes to work in, remarked Loki to himself often, and had resolved to make himself as small and agreeable as possible, though the sharp wit never died in his tongue. Such an attitude as he adopted seemed to suit the others just fine, and missions were carried out successfully and without any major mishaps more often than not.

Today he was heading that familiar way up to his home after a trip to the supermarket, when he saw a young girl sitting on those slate steps he could take two at a time if he really wanted to. Midgardians aged differently than what he was used to, so he wasn’t much good at supposing someone’s age, but he thought you looked to be about in your teenaged years. You were sitting glumly upon those cold, grey steps, staring down at the blank, stark white pages of a sketchpad. Your eraser on the tip of the pencil made a dull thump-thump-thump as you tapped it against the emptiness waiting to be enlivened by strokes from the opposite, leaden end.

“Pardon,” he said, carefully moving on your side.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I-” you cut off with a heinous sort of gasp, the kind Loki would have thought fake if not for the raw feeling behind it. “Y-you’re Loki!”

“Ah, so I have been found out,” he chuckled, somewhat nervously. It seemed you said it with a sort of starstruck wonder, but he could hardly believe such a thing possible and figured it was wishful thinking on his part.

“Oh my gosh!! I’m your biggest fan,” you squealed before introducing yourself and brandishing your still unfilled sketchbook and pencil toward him. “If-if it’s not too much trouble, could I maybe get y-your signature... Please?”

Now the shoe was on the other foot, and he felt shock at this stuttered request. It felt almost like some long forgotten fever dream. Someone wanted his signature? At this point, it was a small thing for the other avengers at this point, but not so for Loki, who so many were still afraid to meet eyes with. He could have continued wistfully standing there as if reminiscing over some passed joy, but this was the present, and he did not want to disappoint his biggest, possibly only, fan.

“Alright,” he granted, putting down his bags of fresh produce and fish he was planning on cooking up for dinner that night. He took the offered paper and scrawled a quick note, made out to the name you’d given him moments before. He was never much of an emotional speaker, but he hoped it sufficed. He finished with his well-practiced, looping signature. “Here you go, little one.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Loki!”

He chuckled a little at the sound of the name. True, he went by no surname as he felt he didn’t belong to any one particular group or family, and would rather not be reminded of his lineage, true or otherwise. Still, hearing the honorific before his name was unusual, especially when your continued respect prompted you to offer to help with his groceries.

“I am certain you need to be running home soon, it is almost dinner time. But I appreciate it immensely.”

“Don’t worry about that,” you persisted, grabbing a bag anyway. “I lice in the building. We just moved here. But you save the city literally all the time, and your powers are so cool! You deserve a little extra respect.”

“If you say so,” he managed, still in a fit of disbelief. “If anything, it should be because I am elderly. Over 1,000 years old, you know,” he joked.

Indeed, you did know, and began to ask him a series of questions about things he might have experienced in history, though pausing to ramble about how you hoped you weren’t pestering and to stop you if you were, he interjected it was no bother at all. By the time you reached the third floor where his rooms resided, you were bubbling with uncontainable excitement, sharing that your new home was on the same level, just a few doors down.

Once you’d helped him deliver his things to his table, he showed you back to the door when you told him your father would be home from work at any minute, and the god thought it important to introduce himself to his new neighbor. In those few minutes, you began to shy away again, that stutter coming back, as if you’d realized anew just what exactly was happening.

Loki shook the hand of the man you’d identified as your father, a nearly middle-aged sir who was just on the cusp of graying. He exchanged a quick conversation with him that resulted in an invitation to dinner that weekend. The god was near sure you were ready to collapse with excitement when he said yes, but you managed to remain relatively calm, though there was a certain spark behind your eyes. Still, it was a school night, and you had some homework to complete, so you all said goodbye to each other and went your separate ways.

As Loki settled down for the evening in his favorite, comfy armchair with the book he’d started the night before, for the first time in a long time, he felt not so alone, and most thrilling of all, he felt appreciated.

[riversofmars]

i wonder if you might do a story on river/13 going to a gay bar in space and they meet a bunch of previous companions/friends there too? (definitely jack for sure!) thanks

Okay first off, I love this prompt!! And it’s perfect for Pride month! I may, however, have taken some liberties and gone a bit bigger than a simple gay bar.... anyway :D I set out to write the gayest thing you’ll read all month... I hope I’ve succeeded! Happy Pride!

Invitation With A Kiss

“So what is this place, Doc?“ Graham asked as they made their way to the door of the TARDIS.

“Had an invitation!“ The Doctor retorted with a grin double-checking her psychic paper to make sure she had the right place and time.

“Who from?“ Yaz asked curiously.

“Ah, well, you know…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off but Yaz was quick enough to snatch the psychic paper from her fingers before she could try to hide it.

“Signed with a kiss?“ Yaz gaped and a wide grin spread across her features. Finally something to truly wind their friend up with and Ryan smirked as well:

“You sure you want us to tag along?“

“Oh, shut up, it’s not exactly a private party.“ The Doctor huffed trying to hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks. Quickly, she opened the door before any of her friends could comment and stepped outside.

“Oh wow, I don’t think I have words for this…“ Yaz started laughing as she joined the Doctor. They found themselves at the side of a most colourful parade. There were rainbows EVERYWHERE! Balloons, confetti, flags, people were dancing, hugging, kissing, having the time of their lives. “Please tell me this is…“

“Planet Pride.“ The Doctor grinned and put her hands on her hips as she took in the atmosphere. It was elating. There was a mild breeze that carried music and exotic smells, the sun was blazing down but not unpleasantly and the joy surrounding them was almost palpable. “Think of your 21st century Pride celebrations, multiply it by, I don’t know, a whole galaxy celebrating togetherness and inclusivity, and you get the greatest queer party this side of the universe.“ The Doctor turned to her friends who were still in awe.

“Isn’t this like… the future?“ Yaz finally found her voice and looked to the Doctor who was surprised to find concern in her eyes: “Is there a need for Pride still? Like I would have thought the issue would long be resolved and…“

“Oh it is, don’t worry!“ The Doctor grinned as she understood what she was getting at. “Doesn’t erase the past though. It’s part of the history of humankind… very sad, pointless, stupid part, but history nonetheless. Can’t and shouldn’t erase history, else you can’t learn from past mistakes… But let’s face it, Pride is brilliant. By this point it’s just an excuse to have one hell of a party.“ She pushed her hands into her pockets and they started walking down the street.

“This is brilliant.“ The Fam quickly found themselves accessorised by strangers, flower garlands and all sorts of amusing party hats were being passed out.

“Who’s the invite from, then?“ Ryan asked as they quickly caught up with the Doctor who was looking around the sea of people, clearly searching for someone.

“My wife.“ The Doctor answered knowing full well that there was no way she could keep it from them. She stopped and gnawed her bottom lip as she scanned the crowd. Where was she? Like she stood a chance of finding her amongst all these people…

“Your what now?“ Graham’s face fell and he nearly ran into her.

“Wife.“ The Doctor retorted matter-of-factly looking back to her friends. “We’re here to celebrate Pride, remember?“

“Yes but… you’re married?!“ Yaz exclaimed and carried on teasingly: “Who would agree to that?!“

“Well, we have always wondered that at one point or another…“ A voice sounded behind them and they all whirled around.

“Jack!“ The Fam exclaimed in unison as Captain Jack Harkness saluted with a grin.

“Hello, Doctor.“ He scooped the Doctor up in a tight hug who squeaked as the air was pushed from her lungs. “Fancy seeing you here! Are you ready for a party?“

“Hello Jack.“ She managed as she tried to extricate herself from his arms. “Bit too much to drink already?“ Jack ignored her comment and turned to the Fam, extending his arms.

“Ryan. Yaz. … Graham.“ He winked at Graham who blushed a little. Jack’s flirting was not lost on him or anyone else for that matter. “Missed me?“ He grinned. “Did you come here to see me?“

“While I knew you’d be here, no, not exactly.“ The Doctor retorted, trying to let him down gently.

“Well, that’s just as well.“ Jack huffed, trying not to look too offended. “I’m here with a Doctor of my own anyway. Though I seem to have lost him… and Donna just keeps trying to pass me drink after drink so…“

“You’re here with me? And Donna?“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock.

“There’s another version of you here?“ Yaz asked, utterly confused. The Doctor had told them plenty of times about how she had been a different person before and how Time Lords could regenerate their body, but they had never actually seen proof of it.

“And I don’t remember it… timelines crossing…“ The Doctor realised running her hands through her hair nervously. There was potential for disastrous chaos here.

“Doctor?“ A voice called and they all looked around. The girl that had called out wasn’t looking at them though, she was scanning the crowd and turned to another girl whose hand she was holding. “He must be here somewhere, that’s his TARDIS over there.“ They were searching for the Doctor too.

“Well, I’ve got a Doctor here if you’re looking for one!“ Jack called out without thinking. He didn't know the girls but the look on the Doctor’s face revealed that she did. She was simply too stunned to respond just yet. The girls looked at Jack who waved with a wide grin. “I think you mean to say: Her TARDIS. Times change!“

“Bill…“ The Doctor finally found her voice again as she stared at her long lost friend. There she was. Brilliant, beautiful Bill Potts. Cyberman no longer, holding on to her girlfriend’s hand and shock painted all over her face as the realisation hit her.

“Oh my GOD!“ Bill exclaimed, frozen to the spot.

“And Heather.“ The Doctor was beginning to grin now and hurried over.

“You have to be joking!“ Bill was still in shock, she shook her head to herself as the Doctor came to a halt in front of her with the Fam and Jack following close behind.

“Hello Bill!“ The Doctor smirked, amused by how her brain was reeling. “What? Not even a hug?“ She chuckled as Bill was finally pulled from her stupor.

“I really don't think I should hug you…“ Bill found her voice at last as she looked her up and down. “Cause you’re like… dead hot right now…“ She glanced at Heather who just laughed. “But also, you’re my weird space grandpa! So come here!“ She pulled the Doctor in a tight hug laughing.

“Fam, this is my friend Bill and her girlfriend Heather.“ The Doctor introduced them all.

“Lovely to meet you.“ Heather smiled. “I have a feeling you will be seeing quite a few familiar faces.“ She told the Doctor with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, it’ll get complicated when you run into yourself…“ Bill grinned, amused at the very prospect of it.

“He’s here, too?“ The Doctor’s face fell. Things were bound to get even more complicated with two of her former regenerations around!

“Well yeah, we were looking for him, lost him somewhere along the way…“ Bill explained. “Oh God…“

“What?“ The Doctor frowned, alarmed at the dread in her friend’s voice.

“Quickly, hide!“ She pulled the Doctor and Heather behind a make-shift beach bar that served all sorts of colourful cocktails. The other’s mirrored their actions. While they didn’t know what was going on, it seemed like the right course of action.

“Bill, what…“ The Doctor started to protest but forgot where she was going with it when her eyes fell on two very familiar people, making their way towards the bar.

“I really don’t know why you insisted on coming here.“ Missy gave a huff as they came within earshot.

“Why not? It’s fun.“ Clara retorted, amused at the displeasure on the Time Lady’s face.

“I don’t see what’s so exciting about drawing rainbows on your face and parading around the street.“ Missy rather stood out in her almost completely black outfit.

“Humour me.“ Clara retorted, who - in her colourful waitress uniform - looked the complete opposite. “I’ll make it worth your while.“ She looped her arm around Missy’s.

“You better.“ Missy pursed her lips, looking to the girl at her side, then continued to scan the crowd.

“If you didn’t want to come, why did you?“ Clara asked and scoffed as Missy paid her little attention and kept looking around: “You’re hoping the Doctor will be here, aren’t you. And here I was thinking you actually wanted to spend time with me.“

“Doctor, who are they?“ Yaz whispered to the Doctor, struggling to follow what was going on. Those two women clearly knew her and the Doctor seemed to know them too as all colour had drained from her face.

“Doctor, what do you want to do?“ Bill whispered to her but she didn’t respond, she was transfixed.

“Don’t get me wrong, Clara, dear, I enjoy a booty call as much as the next Time Lady.“ Missy smirked, looking back to Clara. “Particularly one where my sweet little plaything is intoxicated on sweet drinks and self righteousness but if I just happen to run into the Doctor and get the opportunity to kill him, that would be a two birds one stone kind of scenario. Particularly if I get to mortally embarrass him by putting you in a rather compromising position first.“ Missy ran her fingertips along Clara’s jaw, pushing her head up a little.

“Right, that’s it!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Clara!“ She called, marching out of their hiding place.

“Huh?“ Clara and Missy looked around confused, annoyed at the moment being so rudely interrupted.

“Oh God…“ Bill groaned and they all rushed after the Doctor.

“Sorry dear, this is a private conversation, pick a number and I’ll get to you in a sec.“ Missy gave a dismissive wave of her hand, refocusing her attention on Clara but the Doctor wouldn’t have it.

“Missy, get your hands off her right now!“ The Doctor threatened.

“Who’s this, Doctor?“ Yaz asked, hoping for an explanation.

“Doctor?“ Missy raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.

“Doctor?“ Clara echoed, surprised, excited and embarrassed in equal measures.

“What are you doing with her??“ The Doctor demanded to know off Clara as she wildly gestured at her nemesis.

“My my my, isn’t this some sight. Finally had the upgrade as well?“ Missy ignored the comment as she regarded her childhood friend’s new body. She snaked her arm around Clara and pulled her close to her side.

“Missy!“ The Doctor growled. “Get away from her!“

“Why?“ Missy feigned innocence and hurt. “She asked me here? She wants me here. You could even say she wants me .“ She gave a triumphant smirk and the Doctor flushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger.

“Clara, is that…“

“Uhhh…“ Clara blushed even more deeply than the Doctor herself.

“Does anyone else feel like they're slightly out of the loop?“ Ryan piped up, trying to make sense of the situation in front of them. For whatever reason, the Doctor was interrupting what looked like a perfectly consensual, happy date…

“This is the Master.“ The Doctor spat angrily. “Earlier version… don’t let the lipstick fool you, just as deadly.“

“Lipstick makes for a wonderful weapon, particularly in the right hands. Just ask your lovely wife.“ Missy retorted with a smile. “Where is she, by the way? You’re not here single , are you?“ She tightened the grip on Clara for emphasis.

“Missy!“ Clara slapped the Time Lady’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re all here to have some fun, can’t we just do that.“

“I can have fun with you anywhere I like.“ Missy smirked, moving her hand lower to the hem of her skirt, just enough to make the Doctor nearly lose it. “Fine. Alright.“ She let go of her. “Be a good little puppy now and fetch me a drink then.“ She smirked at the Doctor who balled her hands to tight fits, looking like she was about to burst. Missy laying her hands on one of her friends like that was just too much.

“Anyone else for a cocktail?“ Clara turned back to the group, hoping to move to conversation along to where she wouldn’t be mortally embarrassed in front of her best friend.

“I’ll help you carry.“ Heather volunteered quickly following Clara to the bar.

“So the Master used to be a woman?“ Graham exclaimed at last, when the situation seemed to have defused a little.

“Spoilers.“ Missy tutted at him.

“This is going to get very complicated with everyone here.“ The Doctor had to agree. “You can’t reveal anything about anyone’s future or we could be ripping space and time apart.“

“Yes, this is quite the explosive combination.“ Missy had to concede as she regarded the Doctor’s entourage. “Which begs the question, Doctor, what brings you here? Other than the rainbow candy floss?“

“River invited me.“ The Doctor shot back, almost too quickly, as if to make the point that Missy didn’t have one over in her.

“Well, she’s here somewhere…“ Missy smirked, delighting in the fact that she knew something the Doctor didn’t. “Busy though, really busy…“

“Busy?“ The Doctor frowned. She didn’t like the way Missy was saying that but she couldn’t help her hearts somersaulting just a little bit at the confirmation that her wife was here somewhere. She would get to see her again. It had been such a long time.

“Your bride dances at numerous weddings, as usual.“ Missy hummed just as Clara and Heather returned with colourful cocktails. “Thank you dear.“ She took a bright red drink that was unsettlingly reminiscent of blood and took the opportunity to press a firm kiss to Clara’s lips. “Oh I should start doing this to all your companions, the look on your face!“ Missy laughed at the Doctor’s expression. She looked like she was about to throw a punch. “Or, you know, your wife… now that would be fun.“

“Watch it!“ The Doctor growled threateningly.

“Wherever is Professor Song?“ Missy hummed in a sing-song voice and sip her drink in delight.  

“Clara!“ Everyone looked around as two female voices chanted in unison.

“Oh hello!“ Clara recognised Vastra and Jenny immediately as they were heading straight towards them.

“More old friends?“ Ryan asked and the Doctor’s face brightened. It was hard to worry about the timeline when it was so nice to see so many of her friends.

“Vastra! Jenny!“ She grinned at them in greeting and while Jenny frowned, confused, her wife’s superior senses helped her recognise her immediately.

“Doctor!“ The lizard woman looked at her in shock. “Now that makes a change.“ She looked her up and down, surprised, but not unpleasantly. Jenny must have noticed the look on her face as she gave Vastra’s arm a playful slap.

“Oi! Married!“ She reminded her. “Hello Doctor.“ She carried on cheerfully and gave a wave to everyone else, who, with the exception of Clara, they didn’t know yet.

“It’s getting rather crowded, isn’t it.“ Missy pursed her lips shooting Clara a glance with the intention of getting out of there soon but her companion was more concerned with meeting the Doctor’s other friends, past and present. “Oi!“ She shot Jack a glare who was just putting his arm around Clara all too familiarly.

“Sorry, dear.“ Vastra gave her wife an appeasing smile and turned back to the Doctor. “We didn’t expect to see you, Doctor. At least not like this.“

“Don’t tell me.“ The Doctor groaned, sensing where this was going.

“We didn’t mean to interrupt, we just thought, when we saw Miss Oswald, perhaps she’d know where the Doctor was, a younger one, that is. Suspenders too, but bow tie…“ Vastra explained apologetically. They had lost the Doctor they had arrived with quite a while ago.

“Is that who you’re here with?“ The Doctor asked, wincing at the prospect of yet another version of hers running around this place.

“Following an invitation from your wife, as I understand it. He didn’t want to go alone.“ Jenny added.

“Where is he now?“ The Doctor asked, sensing where all this was going.

“That is a very good question.“ Vastra agreed and they all looked around, everyone scanning the crowd for their particular Doctors.

“I already have a very bad feeling about this…“ The Doctor sighed.

“Are you sure you want to find your wife?“ Missy snickered, highly amused.

“I would if I knew how.“ The Doctor huffed, as a cheerful voice carried over from the other side of the cocktail bar:

“That River Song really is something, isn’t she.“ Everyone looked around and saw a blonde pulling herself onto a bar stool, setting down a nearly empty glass.

“Don’t say it like that.“ A second woman, brunette with shoulder length hair, huffed as she climbed onto a stool beside her. The Doctor looked around to her friends, none of whom recognised the two women, with the exception of herself and Missy who pursed her lips with intrigue. Now there were two people she hadn't seen in quite some time.

“Like what?“ Helen laughed, twirling the straw of her drink between her fingers.

“Like you admire the woman…“ Liv answered, clearly not enjoying the conversation.

“You’re just jealous.“ Helen retorted playfully.

“Jealous? Of what? Don’t be ridiculous.“ Liv shot back a little too quickly.

“Then stop sulking!“ Helen grinned. “The Doctor is having fun, leave him to it. And let’s have some fun too! These cocktails are really good…“ She waved at the bar keep for another.

“And really strong, you sure you want another one.“ Liv couldn’t help but point out.

“Most definitely.“ Helen nodded full of enthusiasm and nearly fell off her stool. Perhaps she had had a little bit too much after all. Liv was quick to hold her up. “Thank you Liv, you’re the best you know that?“ Helen smiled happily and reached out to stroke her friend’s cheek.

“I try.“ Liv replied, blushing at the gesture and her friend pulled her forward into a tight hug.

“No really, you are…“ Helen held her tightly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and Liv didn’t know what to do with her hands. She nearly fell off her stool herself but she didn’t want to pull back either, so she wrapped her arms around Helen’s shoulders, glad she wouldn’t be able to see her blush. Helen was completely oblivious to her discomfort, she just carried on mumbling: “You’re so kind and clever and brave and… so pretty…“

“I think you’ve had enough to drink…“ Liv pulled away, momentarily worried for her friend’s state but Helen wouldn’t let her go. Instead she grabbed Liv’s head and kissed her.

“I had money on that, you know.“ Missy smirked as the Doctor just watched, delighted and confused in equal measures. How had she never picked up on this when they were travelling together?

“Oh God…“ Helen pulled away when she realised what she was doing. But only after thoroughly snogging her best friend’s face off. She blushed deeply, her intoxication seemingly gone in an instant as sobering reality hit her. Liv blinked overwhelmed still, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. “Sorry, I was just… getting carried away and…“ Helen stammered, letting go of her but this time it was Liv that wouldn’t let go.

“You can do it again… you know in the spirit of… or just because you want to…“ Liv bit her bottom lip nervously.

“I don’t know why I did that…“ Helen carried on stuttering until Liv’s words sunk in: “What?“

“Oh Helen… my beautiful, clueless friend…“ Liv shook her head and laughed.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing.“ Helen admitted, blushing scarlet.

“I do.“ Liv assured her more confidently and leaned in to kiss her again when Helen stopped her.

“Liv…“

“What?“ Liv’s heart sank, wondering if Helen had thought better of it but she realised her friend was stopped for another reason. She was looking past her and Liv noticed they had an audience.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account.“ Missy gave a wave of her hand when she realised she had been spotted. Of course, she was the only one Helen Sinclair and Liv Chenka would recognise. “Wasn’t sure where we were, timelines and all!“

“You again!“ Helen exclaimed and Missy sighed. Why were the Doctor’s friends always so stuck up on the past? So what if she had kidnapped and nearly killed her?

“I was hoping we would bump into you again, now I can finally…“ Liv was about to go for Missy but the Doctor quickly intervened.

“No, no, no, none of that!“ She held Liv back and Missy chuckled.

“Come on, Doctor, if Miss Chenka wasn’t to play, that can be arranged.“ Her eyes flashed dangerously.

“Missy! Timelines!“ The Doctor scolded. The time lines were already all messed up, without anyone losing their life before their time. Missy gave a shrug.

“Doctor?“ Liv echoed, looking at the blonde in front of her bewildered. She took a step back, accepting that maybe violence was not the right course of action right now.

“While I’m sure the Doctor is elated to see you two finally stopped doing that silly little I don’t know how she’s feeling about me - but what if she doesn’t like me - but she’s from the past - but she’s from the future - I can’t ruin our friendship dance of yours, she’d rather like to know where her wife is and you seem to know.“ Missy sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“The Doctor?“ Helen repeated incredulously.

“Wow…“ Was all Liv could manage staring at the blonde and Helen, gripped by a wave of jealousy, hit her arm:

“Liv!“

“Not to interrupt the happy reunion or whatever but I think your search is over, Doctor.“ Jack announced and everyone looked around to where he was pointing.

“She didn’t just invite you, did she…“ Missy chuckled as they watched River push through the crowd accompanied by no less than thirteen Doctors, all of them competing for her attention and affection.

“She invited all of us, didn’t she…“ The Doctor sighed, realising that the same message she had received would have popped up on every other Doctor’s psychic paper as well.

“Go on then, Doctor.“ Jack put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her along. “Because if you don’t go over there, I might.“ He smirked. “Professor Song!“ He called before the Doctor could protest. River looked over to them, grinning, as she recognised Jack.

“Captain.“ She smirked flirtily as she sauntered over, while the other Doctors shot Jack annoyed glances.

“Think this is who you were looking for.“ Jack gave the Doctor a shove forward and decided that for once, he should be the wing man instead of going for the prize himself.

“Hello River.“ The Doctor managed a half smile and her feelings were incredibly conflicting. She was thrilled to see her wife; who looked beautiful in a flowing dress with the sun dancing in her curls. She was jealous that the other Doctor’s got there before her. And most importantly, she was annoyed: How could she have been so irresponsible?! All of space and time could rip apart if they put a foot wrong!

“My my my, now that makes a change.“ River smirked as she only took a moment to realise who she was. She stepped closer, looking her up and down far more obviously would have been necessary. The Doctor blushed and decided to go on the offensive to get herself out of the awkward situation:

“You know you will have to make them forget!“ She pointed to all her other selves. “This could end so badly!“

“Timelines will do that. Relax, Sweetie. None of you will remember a thing after crossing your own time stream. I can’t believe I’ve had to have this conversation fourteen times.“ River sighed but the expression on her face indicated that she had no problem repeating herself with her spouses. “Now, less sulking, how about a kiss for your old wife, hm?“ She smirked, grabbed the Doctor by the collar of her coat. She pulled her in for a kiss that quickly muted any sort of protest.

Just then, a confetti cannon went off, dousing the group in a rainbow of colours.

“Sorry, couldn’t help it.“ Missy grinned as the Doctor’s friends shot her accusing glances and she hid her sonic umbrella behind her back. “Anyway, I wonder if there are more versions of me about…“

The Doctor didn’t even notice. She was too occupied kissing her wife to the chorus of jealous calls from several of her past selves. She had missed her so much .

[ae0nx]

YOUNG JUSTICE EP 6 - 13 RECAP

Ok, I finally caught up on Young Justice and I have to admit the Artemis arc was good but the Zatanna arc has been my favourite so far. I'm weak for all that magic, bizarre nonsense! Anyways before we get there:

ARTEMIS ARC

I really love Artemis and Jade's relationship and how complex it is and how it was interwoven through all these other female friendships/dynamics in the arc

Because I'm a batfam STAN: I lovedddd the moment where Barbara just lets Artemis know that the batfam could have her back in the mission if she wanted and that they will be there in an INSTANT to go fight the shadows 'after what they did to Jason'. Squaaaadddd 😂

Speaking of... Jason! All we're asking for is at least one episode to explain what happened to him and what's his mental state right now. Just one! But, I'm glad that him, Onyx and Jade are in their supervillain recovery classes with Ra's Al Ghul. I really hope this doesn't come back to bite them but knowing this show and Ra's, it probably will lol

Onyx and Jade seeing the island as home even though they have a lot of trauma attached to it is so real and I love that the decision wasn't a completely cookie cutter clean way of resolving things.

Cassandra and Bab's relationship gave me everything I wanted! I love when batfam stories highlight their connection because I feel like it's always lowkey slept on by writers. While at first I wasn't sure about the whole 'Killing Joke' fix in how Barbara became paralysed from the waist down, with some thought, I really prefer this version of events. It humanises the heroes with non-abilities but at the same time just makes Cassandra and Barbara's relationship so much deeper and complex... WHILE erasing the hold the Joker over Barbara's life in the comics which I also deeply appreciate. Fuck the Joker.

The literature quotes put in the episode titles, scenes in the show, dialogue and even the end credits were a nice touch. Sometimes it did feel a bit shoehorned in, but most of the time it worked and I appreciate them showing the audience (especially the younger ones) all these great texts of work.

Hmm... I would say that Artemis' arc feels the least personable out of the arcs we've gotten so far as it felt more so to do with Jade's search for redemption and how her actions affected Jade and Artemis' relationship. But, Artemis has been through a lot so I'm fine with them taking it a little easy on her lol

ZATANNA'S ARCCCC!!!

Ahhh... where to start... I loved pretty much everything about this arc lol

MY. GIRL. ZATANNA. It's interesting how much the OG squad are willing to make some morally questionable decisions for very emotionally selfish reasons and if they don't tie this arc up by the end of this whole season, it'd be a missed opportunity. But wow, Zatanna was really just rearing children (more so her students, tbh) to take the place of her Dad. I get it but noooo

I love how much creepy imagery there was in this arc. It was genuinely terrifying at some moments while watching it in the dead of the night lol

The villains of this arc were amazing and deserved. First off, The Child's amazing, I love her and her crystal monster doll, her and Klarion's energy and constant rivalry was dope and her VA is phenomenal!

SPEAKING OF! KLARION, THE WITCH BOY aka THAT. BITCH. He might be my new favourite character in Young Justice after this. The fact that he was insanely savage (no pun intended) in the past and had all that history with Vandal was a great backstory to his character and definitely made him more of a threat than he's ever been in this show which was a lot of fun. But, also, just his chaotic energy is so infectious and hilarious! His love for cats. His general bitchiness. Him possessing a school bus full of children and jumping numerous of times through TIME when he really didn't have to. (the after credits of the screaming bus with the screams on a loop was horribly hilarious). The fact that my heart actually broke for him when Teekl no. 1 was murdered? What was that about?! Haha, I actually hate how much I love this asshole. His VA is amazing as well.

I loved getting to know the students and the episode that centred on their insecurities. It was great to get to know them better buttt I could definitely see how some people would say we didn't technically need the episode as it didn't move the plot further. But then again, we didn't technically need an episode dedicated to Zatara's back story but these are important moments that the audience needed. I do think they could've been interwoven with the plot a little better though.

Oh Mary... her constant search and addiction to power made her a tinsy bit unlikeable but I'm ultimately sympathetic in the end. And it's kinda the same feelings I have towards Gar in this arc. I think it's just a human reaction tbh and they wrote it well enough to show that these ways of the two harming themselves and the people around them is all because of the trauma that they've gone through and stacked up overtime.

I appreciate that one of the biggest heroes of the arc was Dinah Lance and THERAPY. That was the biggest outtake I got of this arc about magic and spirituality and identity and I lovedd it. I gotta read more supernatural DC comics instead of just reading about the batfam all the time lol

In short; great season half. I can't wait to hear from Nightwing, Rocket and Aqualad in the other half!

[captain-tch]

All That I Can Give

summary: kiko is a struggling business owner thrown into the chaos of the borderlands. when she makes a mistake that will threaten her life, she learns just how far she will go to keep herself alive. 

TW: DEATH, MENTIONS OF ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, MENTAL HEALTH, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, VIOLENCE

chapter 10: little firecracker

previous chapter

Kiko bolted upright. Her hand flew to her chest as she cast a panicked gaze around the room. Tetsu was still asleep on the sofa, a light snore filling the silence around them. The door was still firmly locked as it was last night. From what she could tell everything looked normal. 

So why did she fly awake so suddenly? 

She shrugged it off. Maybe something in her dream startled her so much her brain pulled her back into reality. Not that she was sure what it could have been. Her dream had been polluted with a never ending cycle of her hands slamming the paper weight into Ryuk’s face. The loop brought a slight frown to her face. If she thought hard enough, she could still feel the ghosts of his blood and viscera on her skin. 

Lying back down, she tried to turn her thoughts away the dream she was having. She prayed she wouldn’t return to the world where she could relive one of the greatest moments, and greatest shames, in her life. Her eyes had started to drift close when she heard it. 

Voices. 

Kiko jumped to her feet. Her heart raced with each passing moment. She tried to gently shove Tetsu awake, going as far as lightly slapping his face. All he did was turn around in his slumber. Kiko muttered a strong swear word under her breath. 

She lunged for a nearby pan, holding it in a vice like grip. Creeping her way to the door, she sneaked a glance at the pharmacy. Inside, there were a group of five people. Men and women poked around their supplies, sweeping their arms along the shelves and stuffing as much as they could into their bags. All of them carried a weapon of some sort. 

Kiko couldn’t contain her gulp when she saw the sniper rifle. 

These people weren’t playing games. 

She turned back to look at Tetsu. The bruises looked even worse today. Her heart ached as her mind flashed to the game the night before. She wasn’t going to let anyone hurt him ever again. 

It was only going to be a matter of time before they started searching the entire pharmacy. These people take what they need, then steal everything they want. Kiko had a unsettling instinct that that included people too. Maybe she could distract them, or scare them away? Not that the latter was likely, her only weapon being the kitchen utensil gripped tightly in her hands. 

Kiko placed her hand on the door handle. Sending a silent prayer to whatever higher power was mocking her, she opened the door and slammed it shut behind her. 

All five intruders spun in her direction. Kiko suppressed the urge to shudder as the sniper rifle sight was trained on her. The man holding it leered at her, his pierced tongue darting out of his mouth. 

“What do we have here?” 

In the strongest voice she could muster (which was still riddled with a scratchy rasp), she commanded the room. “Take what you need and leave.” 

No one moved. 

Kiko raised her pan in an offensive position. She couldn’t imagine how pathetic she looked - a kitchen appliance against one sniper rifle, a katana and semi automatic weapons. The bruise on her neck and bandages covering her hand and elbow did nothing to support her case. Still, she stood her ground, trying to ignore how her knees shook. “I told you to leave.” 

“We’re not going anywhere.” The man nodded to one of his friends. Immediately they surged forward, stepping closer to Kiko. 

She spun around to face them. “I’m warning you!” 

They ignored her, moving forward and reaching for her. In one smooth move, she slammed the pan into her attackers head. They stumbled backwards, gripping their bleeding forehead with a curse. 

Simultaneously, Kiko heard the sound of three distinct clicks. 

“Leave. Now.” She prayed her words were as solid as her resolve.

“You’re a little fire cracker, aren’t you?” The man with the pierced tongue laughed. 

From the corner of her eye, she could see the man with the katana moving towards her. She subtly took a step back. Her weapon was nothing against his katana. The distance he had meant she would be skewered the moment she tried to attack him. 

“I’d be careful if I were you.” Kiko tensed her muscles. “Get too close and you’ll get burned.” 

With those words, she darted forwards. She ducked out of the way of her attackers, flying behind the shelves as a shield. Without a second thought she flung herself out of the shattered window, glass slicing into her legs. 

A shot rang out. 

Kiko fell to the floor. She groaned, pulling her head off of the concrete. She tried to pull herself upwards, only for a foot to land on her back. A cry ripped out of her throat. 

“Careful little firecracker.” The man whispered, metal pushed into her spine. She froze. “You’re coming with us.” 

“Hey, Niragi!” A new voice shouted. Kiko tried to crane her neck to see, wincing at the pain igniting in her body. “Guess what we found.” 

Kiko’s blood turned cold. It wasn’t long before Tetsu’s broken body was thrown besides her. Her eyes scanned him for any new injuries, struggling to differentiate between the old and the new. His chest was rising and falling. 

Kiko sighed a breath of relief. At least he was still alive. 

“What should we do with them?” 

Kiko clenched her jaw. 

“Let’s take them back. We could always use some fresh meat.”

With those final words, the butt of a gun slammed into the back of her head. The world around her melted away. 

                                                             *

Kiko awoke with a start. Her head banged with a blinding pain. Liquid was running down her arm. The bruises on her neck pulsed. She groaned, rolling her head to the side. 

She caught sight of Tetsu, his body limp in a chair. His hands were tied behind his back and his legs roped against a chair. The events of the last day came rushing back to her. 

Kiko thrashed against her bonds, groaning as more liquid moved further down her arm. The looters. The gun shot. The darkness. 

“Where the fuck are we?” Kiko muttered. She finally looked up to take in the rest of the room. Two of them tugged at a memory of the back of her brain. She swore she could remember encountering someone with those muscles, and that hoodie at her spades game. The more she tried to think, the more intense her headache got, until she was nearly crumbling in her seat. 

Giving up on those two, she surveyed the remainder of the room. She recognised some faces, sneering at the memory of them looting her temporary home. She couldn’t hide the smirk she saw at the cut on one of their foreheads. At least she managed to do a little damage. 

“You’re awake!” An eccentric man appeared in her line of vision. She had to control her expression, feeling an urge to raise her eyebrows at his robe and sunglasses adorning his face. “My name is Hatter, pleasure to meet you. How are you feeling?” 

Kiko remained silent. 

“Niragi here tells me he found you while they were on a supply run. Living in a pharmacy?” 

Her lips remained sealed shut. Hatter sighed, a dramatic hand falling to his forehead. He spun away from her, his robe swishing with the action. Already she got the vibe he had too high of an ego. She was itching to put him back in his place.

“How am I expected to help you, when you don’t speak to me?” His gaze turned to somewhere she couldn’t see. He gave a small motion of his hands. 

Kiko’s mind raced with the possibilities. Was that him delivering a silent kill order? Was that code for torture? 

She quickly found out as a finger pushed into her shoulder blade. Kiko’s body instinctively doubled over, a high pitched shriek forcing itself from her. More liquid rushed down her arm. She saw her own life drip to the floor, marking the carpet an ugly red. 

The gun shot. 

It hit her then that she must have been shot. The adrenaline of the attack must have diluted the pain. That, coupled with a constant, low pulsing agony all over her body, must have erased the injury all together. She was definitely feeling it now. Kiko clenched her jaw to stop herself from screaming - in pain or fury, she wasn’t sure. 

The pressure left her wound. Kiko gasped for breath, her body still crumpled. Hatter crouched down so he could meet her eyes. She fixed him with a steely glare. “You were living at the pharmacy, am I correct?” 

The memory of the blinding agony lingered as she reluctantly nodded her head.

“My men found some playing cards there.” Hatter pulled out an array of cards, including the seven of diamonds and two of clubs. Amongst the pile, she spotted a hearts card. Kiko’s interest piqued - that wasn’t one of hers. “Are these all yours?” 

“They’re ours.” Kiko cleared her throat. She jutted her head to Tetsu. “Some of those cards are his.” 

“I have to say, it’s quite an impressive collection.” Hatter flitted through them, assessing each one as if it held the secrets to life itself. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“How are you still alive?” His gaze wandered over the wounds littering her body. Compared to Tetsu, she was perfectly healthy. This didn’t go unnoticed by Hatter.

“Because I have to win. To get back home.” 

Hatter’s face lit up in a bright smile. “We need more people like you. Niragi, you were right to bring them here. I don’t necessarily, um, agree with the method.” He looked at Kiko’s bleeding shoulder. “Try not to shoot them next time.” 

Kiko resisted the urge to make a smart remark. It wasn’t like they were brought here by choice. 

“I have a proposition for you and your friend. If you’re willing to accept it.” Kiko subtly leaned forward. “I want you to stay here. You play games for us, and in return, we provide you a safe haven where you can do whatever you like.” 

“What’s the catch?” 

“We have three rules here. To maintain order, we all need to follow them. One - everyone wears beach wear. It’s harder to hide weapons.” Kiko’s eyes must have involuntarily moved to the muscled man’s gun for him to continue. “Only the militants can carry weapons.”

Once again she had to bite her tongue. It clearly wasn’t the best idea, considering her attackers seemed to have an addiction to spilling blood.

“Rule number two - turn in all playing cards you earn. And three... death to all traitors.” 

Kiko gulped. She had a feeling if she rejected this offer, she would be deemed a traitor. It was clear by the rules he was clearly unhinged - what other options did she have? 

“What is it you want with the playing cards?” 

The man spun around, pulling open a curtain Kiko didn’t notice earlier. Along the wall, was a diagram of all the possible playing cards. Some had crosses through them, while others remained unmarked. “Once we have a full set, one person can go back to the real world.”

Kiko glanced at Tetsu, still unconscious. The only thing reassuring her he was still alive was the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Her mind flashed back to her own brother, the cheeky glint long gone. Now with Ryuk out of the picture, she was determined to get that back. This was a chance to go home. A chance to see Riku again. 

“We accept.” 

She wasn’t sure how Tetsu would feel about her agreeing on his behalf. He was the one to say do anything you can to find your way home. They just had to follow the rules, and everything should be fine. As she told herself this, an uneasy feeling settled at the bottom of her gut. 

The man’s smile grew tenfold. He clapped his hands together. “Welcome to the Beach!”

[noaltbruh]

BUCCI GANG AND HOW THEY WOULD PLAY UNDERTALE

Since I got my friend into the UT fandom, and the brainrot for this game is slowly coming back, I've figured that I'd fuse my favourite franchises and make this post, enjoy!

GIORNO:

-This may surprise you, but Giorno would almost do a Blind Pacifist run

-While at first, he was planning on taking out whoever got in his way, he changed his mind in the moment he saw Toriel

-After she taught him how to resolve the various conflicts peacefully, he decided not to fight, but to show MERCY to every monster

-He finds the multiplicity of choices a very interesting mechanism, especially since he's not much of a gamer, and he's pleasantly surprised to see such an innovative game

-While most of the times he would completely avoid the FIGHT button, if a monster got on his nerves a little too much, he may attack it until it doesn't want to fight anymore

-He takes the time to interact with everything and everyone, he wants to enjoy the game at its fullest

-He was so freaking lucky to meet Gaster on his first run

-Actually brought the piece of snowman with him

-He's part of the "Chara defense squad", and finds them strangely...relatable

-He was just about to do a full Pacifist route, but he couldn't bring himself to SPARE Flowey, and killed him

-"I won't let you hurt her"

-Ultimately, he regretted it, and reset his save file

-After doing a TRUE Pacifist, he left the game, leaving the monsters alone and giving them an happy ending

-Only knows about the Genocide through gameplays

-Favourite character: Toriel, but also likes Chara quite a lot

-Favourite OST: Memories, followed by home, Undertale, Megalo strikes back and Star (he doesn't care if they actually don't play in the game)

-What SOUL would he have: DETERMINATION

BRUNO:

-My man wouldn't hurt a fly if he had the chance to, off to the Pacifist route he goes

-Similar to Giorno, he finds Toriel a very comforting character, but he feels bad for pretty much every monster he meets. He thinks it's unfair for them to be forced to stay in the UNDERGROUND, and wants to find a way to destroy the barrier at any cost

-He's never played a videogame before, but he gets the hand of it quite quickly, even though he still ends up dying a couple of times.

-He would also be the kind of player to interact with EVERYTHING, paying close attention to whatever the passing monster has to say

-Sometimes, he likes to take a break, lay down and listen to the OST of the place he's exploring

-The most challenging enemies for him were Undyne and Asgore. It took him a while to realize that the only way to spare her was to run away, and he just really didn't want to hurt Goat papa

-He lets the bird carrying him to the other side, even if he doesn't actually need to move around. He just wants the little guy to feel appreciated

-Veeeery reluctantly, he decided to SPARE Flowey, it would have been a waste to kill somebody now, after everything that he had done so far

-He almost cried at the Pacifist ending

-He refuses to even acknowledge what happened in the Genocide route

-Favourite characters: Toriel and Asgore

-Favourite OST: Fallen down, but he also likes Heartache, Home and Waterfall

-What SOUL would he have: KINDNESS

MISTA:

-Mista's first run would be a Neutral. It's not that he enjoys killing the monsters, he's mostly just too lazy to think of a way to spare them

-If it's obvious, however, he'll just casually show the enemy MERCY, there's no need to take out absolutely everyone

-The only one who he genuinely looked for a way to spare was Papyrus. Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to just hurt him 'cause he had the chance to. Besides...He was afraid of what Sans would have done

-Speaking of him, he finds his jokes HILARIOUS, and he will use them in real life conversations if he gets the chance to

-He basically wasted all his money fighting Undyne

-He didn't buy the spider donut in the RUINS, and was forced to farm gold for 3 entire freaking days and buy one directly from Muffet

-After finishing the neutral route, he decided to go back and try the others. His next route was a Genocide

-He was about to shoot his computer AND himself while fighting Sans, but he eventually managed to beat him. Of course, after swearing at 3 A. M., drinking 10 cans of Sprite, listening to Megalovania on loop and threatening to throw Narancia out of the window because he interrupted him while he was playing

-His favourite moment during the Pacifist was cooking with Undyne

-He immediately questioned his life choices when he finished the route and saw Chara taking over Frisk's body. Closed the game and never opened it again

-Favourite characters: Papyrus, Sans and Undyne. He refuses to choose an absolute favorite

-Favourite OSTs: Megalovania and Song that might play when you fight Sans. He also likes Bonetroulse and Spear of justice

-What SOUL would he have: BRAVERY

NARANCIA:

-Narancia playing this game would be a total mess. Ironic, considering he's the one in the gang that likes video games the most

-Despite Toriel's guidance, at first, he would FIGHT every monster that got in his way, following the simple "It's an rpg, the more I kill, the better it is" logic

-When he saw the "but nobody came" screen, however, he freaked the hell out and immediately reset

-After that mini heart attack, he went on a full Pacifist route. However, sometimes, he would snap and accidentally kill a monster. He lost count of how many times he had to reload the file

-He also really likes Toriel (she's just very popular among the Bucci gang). The reason for it...Is not a very happy one, like in Giorno's case

-He genuinely tried to stay with her, he didn't want to leave Goat mom

-He's the one who gets emotionally invested in the game the most, he even forgets it's a game at times and just erase the surrounding world from his head

-He LOVES to voice the characters while he plays, it makes the story feel way more alive for him. He makes a very good Papyrus impression

-Speaking of which, his favourite parts of the game were the interactions between Sans and Papyrus.

-He lost his s**t when he arrived at the Temmie village. He stayed there FOR HOURS farming money. Heck, he even bought the Temmie armor

-He refused to open the game for two days after Flowey stole the SOULS

-He wanted to ask someone to play the TRUE lab with him, but he refused to admit that he was scared

-While he's not the kind of player who stops by to read every dialogue, he makes an exception for Snowdin. He really likes that area of the game!

-While he would never admit it, he cried three times during the Pacifist route. The first time when he left Toriel, the second when he heard Chara and Asriel's story, and the third when he finished it

-His favourite fight in the game is the one against Asriel. He kept on repeating the "Don't you have anything better to do" dialogue for 20 minutes, before giving up to the idea that there was really no way to save him

-After giving the monster an happy ending, he was overwhelmed by his own curiosity, and decided to try the Genocide route...Boy did it go wrong

-You thought he cried a lot during the Pacifist? He became a freaking fountain during the Genocide. Every single time he killed a Boss, he cried, with no exception

-He spent days trying to defeat Sans, until he was given the option to SPARE him, and so he did

-...The others could hear him yelling from the other floor after what happened next

-He got tired of Sans' bulls**ts, reset and did a Pacifist again

-He watched a gameplay to know what happened in the Genocide ending. Chara's jumpscare still haunts him

-Narancia gets really involved in the stuff made by the fandom, especially fan made songs and comics

-He listens to "To the bone" religiously, it's part of his routine

-He tried and failed to figure out how AUs work

-Favourite character: Papyrus, followed by Toriel and Asriel. He used to like Sans a lot too...But now he gets Vietnam flashbacks every time he thinks about him

-Favourite OSTs: Bonetroulse, Hopes and dreams and Snowdin. He can't choose between them

-What SOUL would he have: INTEGRITY

FUGO:

-Fugo would categorically refuse to reset on his first run. What it's done, it's done, and he has to take responsibilities for his choices

-He would do a Neutral, killing whoever he encounters, but without specifically looking for the monsters just so that he can kill them

-That doesn't mean, however, that he dislikes to play with the timeline. It's quite the opposite, to be honest

-Fugo enjoys messing around with the save files A LITTLE too much, dude basically became an hacker playing this game

-In his attempt to make a Pacifist run, he fu**ed up and accidentally got the Hacker ending

-"...THIS IS NOT WHAT I MEANT WHEN I SAID I WANTED EVERY ENDING"

-He toned it down a little after that, but he still managed to modify the FUN value enough to meet Gaster and his followers

-He's also the only one who unlocked Sans' room. He doesn't trust him, but he finds him an interesting character

-Neither the Pacifist or Genocide endings particularly picked his interest, even though he did punch the walls a couple of times fighting Sans

-He likes to try the different Neutral endings, he doesn't do all of them, just the ones he thinks that would affect the monsters the most

-The only character he got attached to emotionally was Alphys, he can see himself a lot in her

-He's very interested in the various theories that surround this game, and he's waiting for Deltarune to come out, he just wants to know more about Gaster

-Favourite character: Alphys, but Gaster is a close second

-Favourite OST: Darker, darker, yet darker, followed by Here we are, Waterfall and Premonition

What SOUL would he have: faded BRAVERY

ABBACCHIO:

-MERCY? Is that a food? Yeah uhm...No, that doesn't exist with Abbacchio, nothing but Genocide for him

-It's already a surprise someone convinced him to play this game. He'll play in his own way, and that means killing literally everyone, not simply the ones he encounters, but even looking for them just to earn more Exp

-He was...Weirdly satisfied when he saw the "But nobody came" screen, and he was lucky enough to find every monster almost immediately

-He hadn't found a single character that he liked until he reached Undyne. Her sense of justice reminded him of his old self, which wasn't exactly pleasant at first, but at least he felt something

-He was finally happy to see a monster actually trying to stop what he was doing, and killing her was the only thing in the game that made him slightly sad

-He's still offended for not having the chance to kill monster kid, he couldn't stand that child

-He skipped through pretty much every dialogue in the game, not that there are many people to interact with during the Genocide...

-He'd eat a piece of the snowman right in front of him just to spite him, then take the rest and leave

-He didn't care about whatever Flowey was trying to tell him about his past. That's also because without knowing he's Asriel, most of what he says doesn't really make sense

-In the moment Sans dodged his attack, he realized that he had screwed up REALLY bad. After dying against him a couple of times, he considered resetting, but he wouldn't have let "the lazy skelefu**" have it his way

-He let out a huge "YES" and a sigh of relief when he finally managed to hit him, it took him around a week

-However, little did he know, that the worst still had to come. When he noticed that he wasn't the one who had just killed Asgore and Flowey, he freaked out a little, and Chara staring directly at him made him feel a small shiver down his spine

-Still, he decided to decline their offer to destroy everything, not because he regretted what he had done, he just wanted his revenge on the child for scaring him

-He closed the game after the jumpscare, and never questioned what the hell he had been through

-Favourite character: Undyne

-Favourite OSTs: But nobody came and Battle against a true hero, he also likes The fallen child

-What SOUL would he have: very very faded JUSTICE

TRISH:

-Trish got into this game just because of its music, she kept on hearing it everywhere and wanted to understand where it came from

-She was kinda scared at first, videogames aren't exactly her forte, and her encounter with Flowey didn't help

-She slowly got used to the dynamics of the game, even though she died at least three times in every area, exept for the RUINS. (She only got a game over two times there)

-She doesn't have the heart to hurt anybody, she thinks the monsters (well...Most of them, at least) are adorable! Shyren is her favourite minor enemy, and when she saw the "Taking piano lessons again" text, her heart melted a little

-She refused to take off the faded ribbon until she found she tutu, but she never sold either of them

-She loves flirting with literally ANYONE. You can? Well then...You must!

-Her favourite area is Hotland, including the Core too. She loves the whole "artificial" theme of the place, and she had a lot of fun reading Alphys's posts!

-She would pretend to be an actual part of Mettaton's programmes, but only when she was 100% sure nobody could hear her

-Needless to say, the boss fight against him was one of the funniest parts of the story for her

-Another thing she absolutely adored were the dates with Papyrus and Alphys, especially the latter. After everything that had happened, it was a nice opportunity to relax for a bit

-Similar to Narancia, Trish gets really involved emotionally in playing the game, and she had to take a little break from it before facing Asgore

-The ending genuinely made her cry, but it was the only time she shed a tear through it

-She doesn't care about trying the Genocide, she's worked hard to give the monsters an happy ending, and she wasn't going to throw it away

-She's in love with the Undertale Musical by Man on the Internet, she knows pretty much every song by memory

-Favourite character: Mettaton, but she honestly really likes all of them

-Favourite OST: Death by glamour, followed by Metal crusher, Power of NEO, and Another medium

-What SOUL would she have: INTEGRITY

Yes, I know that Narancia's part is longer, but it's just so funny to write about this baby, bear with me please 😌

[sincerelybubbles]

patience || eijiro kirishima || bnha

pairing: Eijirio Kirishima x Reader

summary: Kirishima lashes out and says more then he should, but nothing can’t be resolved with some space and eventual cuddles

wc: just under k

warnings: resolved angst, slight language 

Kirishima knew he was only lashing out because he had a long day. That’s why he had avoided you within the small confines of your shared apartment, but you were so persistent and now he had said the one thing he knew would hurt you the most. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you stood in shocked silence, staring at him with your mouth slightly open. 

He knew he should call out your name, reach for you, say he was sorry, do something, and yet. . . shame filled his chest as he turned around and raked his hand through his hair, feeling pieces of hard strands between his fingers despite already having washed his hair that night. 

A headache was blooming in the base of his neck as he heard you walk away. It broke his heart more to know that you hadn’t said anything back. He had crossed the one line he promised himself he wouldn’t - it was something huge for you to even tell him, and now he’d thrown it in your face just because he was tired from a long day at work.

Frustration bubbled in his chest as he let out a long groan, storming across your shared room to the punching bag in the corner. 

He let out his day, slamming his fists into the bag over and over, not caring that he had already showered, or that he wasn’t really in workout attire. He would go into the living room and beg for the forgiveness he was sure he didn’t deserve when the fire in his chest quelled. For now, he would take out his anger in a healthy way. 

An hour later, Kirishima was drenched in sweat, his heart was pounding, and yet he felt the tension leave his shoulders. The weight of the day was finally lifting off of him, and he had just taken medicine for the pounding in his head. Ice flooded his veins at the memory of his harsh words to you, and he wasted no time pushing open the bedroom door and making his way into the living room where he expected you to be sitting on the couch. 

Except, the couch was empty.

His stomach sank at the idea of you cooking in the kitchen, despite his harsh words. Quickly, he walked into the kitchen, already announcing that he was sorry and that he would cook. But the kitchen was empty.

As was the hall bathroom, and the hallway outside of the apartment.

Panicked, Kirishima threw the sheets around for his phone that he knew he tossed on the bed earlier. It fell to the floor with a satisfying thump and Kirishima dove toward the noise, finding his phone slightly under the bed and lacking in texts or calls from you.

His fingers shook as he unlocked his phone and pressed your contact. The red heart that you put next to your own name glared up at him as he lifted the phone to his ear.

His heart felt like it was beating incredibly slow, too slow, as his listened to the phone ring. Surely, he was drowning because he felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Right before the line clicked off, someone picked up. He heard shuffling and someone breathing, and he was sure you were off somewhere, caught by a villain, and he hadn’t even noticed because he was so selfish and arrogant-

“Kirishima-kun?” That wasn’t the voice of a villain. Kirishima strained to listen to the background of the call, hoping to hear you, even for a second.

“Mina-kun?” He breathed out, “Where is she? Is she okay?” Mina sighed and suddenly, Kirishima’s heart was beating too fast, not too slow. He let out all of the breath in his lungs, slipping from his crouch to fully sitting on the ground, overwhelmed by anxiety.

“She’s fine, she’s with me.” Kirishima let out jumped thanks the moment those blessed words left Mina’s mouth.

“When will she be home?” He asked hopefully, “I need- “

“Look.” Mina cut him off. “I only answered because she told me that you’d immediately think the worst. She’s okay, she’s with me.”

Kirishima didn’t dare the breathe as Mina paused. Were you crying? He thought he heard a faint sniffle. There were the sounds of footsteps and a door shutting. All of the faint background noise disappeared, and Mina sighed.

“I’ve known you for a long time, Eijirio-kun.” Kirishima’s first name, something only you called him, made him snap to attention. “So, I’ll let you know that you fucked up. Give her space, give her time, she’ll be home. . . Just, probably not tonight, okay?”

Kirishima nodded, before swallowing around his dry throat, “Yeah, okay.”

The line went dead and Kirishima laid back, still holding the phone to his ear, as if somehow it would bring her to him.

Slowly, he felt his eyes shut as exhaustion hit him. He knew that she would want him to get up, to shower and eat, but he knew if he did that, he would cry. And, despite what she always told him, crying didn’t feel manly, especially when it was his fault that everything around him was falling apart.

He dreamed of their fight, over and over on loop. His harsh words echoed in his head. When he woke up on the floor, his back was stiff, and his phone was almost dead. Kirishima forced himself to stand and turn off the beeping clock.

His chest ached worst of all, it felt hollow and empty, and the pain only intensified as he realized that you never came home last night.

He moved through the apartment like a ghost, not making any sound as he got ready for the day. He wondered if you felt this lonely yesterday while he was ignoring you. The small apartment felt bigger than ever without you.

The traces of you, your sweater, the smell of your soap in the shower, the plates you picked out, mocked him. Screamed at him that he let one lousy day turn his words harsh. His mouth tasted sour.

He didn’t have to go into the agency today, he was only on call, and yet he forced himself to get ready as if he were going in. He put on his hero costume, feeling less like a hero by the second. Heroes don’t make pretty girls cry. Heroes didn’t let shitty days ruin everything. Heroes could fix things, not break them.

His face guard felt stiff on his face, and the gel he smeared through his hair made his hands feel almost too heavy to lift.

He couldn’t meet his own eyes in the mirror.

Kirishima left the apartment, unable to bear the thought of it empty without you anymore. He patrolled the streets, smiling at people as they noticed him, signing papers thrust at him. This, he could do. He could force a smile and act like everything was okay. He could talk and make others happy simply because he had to.

It felt like every word leaving his mouth only worsened the sour taste he spent ten minutes trying to erase with his toothbrush.

Screams interrupted his conversation with a small boy telling Kirishima he was his favorite, and the young hero ran toward the noise.

The thief wasn’t hard to apprehend, and the adrenaline pumping through Kirishima’s blood made it easier to press on throughout the day.

He made his way back to the apartment well after lunch, his stomach feeling empty, but not hungry.

He kicked off his shoes and set the small bag of groceries he bought on the table before freezing at the sound of the shower. He ran through the apartment, feet slapping against the tile, slippers long forgotten. He threw open the door, calling your name and activating his quirk in the same breath.

Your head appeared from behind the shower curtain, hair wet and sticking to your cheek. His quirk deactivated as he looked at you, mouth slightly open, and eyes searching yours.

“There’s food in the oven, it should be warm by now.”

“Huh?” Kirishima couldn’t process this. Just last night he fucked up everything, you were gone, and didn’t come back last night. And now you were here, with soap on your forehead and were talking about food.

“You should go eat.” And then you stuck your head back in the shower. He could see from your shadow that you were washing your hair. “Eiji, go eat.”

Like a mindless puppet, Kirishima left the bathroom and made his way into the kitchen. He made himself a plate and sat down, looking at it.

What should he even say? What if you weren’t here to forgive him? Where you crying earlier? Your eyes looked puffy, but it could just be the shower.

Chopsticks suddenly appeared over his plate, and he looked up to see you holding them out to him. And, shit, you were wearing his shirt. It was one of his old tees that you claimed ages ago, but it was his.

He resisted the urge to grab your hand and kiss it, to beg for forgiveness, to show you how much he missed you, despite it not even being twenty-four hours without you. Instead, he gently took the chopsticks from your hands.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, ducking his head, and picking up some of the noodles on his plate.

He ate in silence as she put away the few groceries he had brought home.

“Are you going to eat too?” He asked, giving her a pleading look.

“I already did.”

“Oh.”

There was deafening silence for a moment before Kirishima opened his mouth to do what he should have last night. Fuck it, he should have run to Mina’s and told her how his own words made him sick to his stomach, but he wanted to give you your space.

“I’m sorry you had such a bad day yesterday.” Your voice was so soft he barely heard it, but his eyes snapped to yours immediately.

“What?”

“I should have left you alone, I shouldn’t have pushed you. I’m sorry.” Your lower lip was trembling, and he could tell you were trying your hardest to avoid his eyes. “I just wanted you to talk – to confide in me for once.”

“Babe, you really have nothing to say sorry for. I’m the one who messed up. I should have never – I knew that was a sore topic and I – What I said, I should have never said it. No matter how shitty my day was.” Kirishima stood and walked over to you and gently grabbed your wrists, bringing your arms to his mouth and placing a kiss on the back of both of your hands. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“I’m not upset with you.” You admitted, finally looking up at him. Your eyes were swimming in unfallen tears. He placed his forehead against yours. “I really didn’t mean to annoy you. Just, sometimes you act like you have to do everything alone, and you don’t have to. You can confide in me, rely on me.”

“I do, babe, I really do. Sometimes, I’m afraid I rely on you too much. You weren’t even gone a whole day, and everything was a mess.” He fought a smile as you scrunched up your nose.

“I would have come back last night, but Mina wouldn’t let me. I only left to give you a bit of space.”

“Please, don’t ever give me space again.” He mumbled, nudging his nose against yours.

You smiled up at him and nodded before lifting your chin to place your lips on his. He could have cried. You were being so gentle, so sweet. The kiss was slow and soft, everything Kirishima loved about kissing you wrapped up into one moment. And yet, he forced himself to break it.

“I really really am sorry. I crossed a lone I should have never crossed-“ You cut him off with another kiss, this one on the corner of his mouth.

“Already forgiven.”

“Still, let me make it up to you.” Kirishima searched your eyes, knowing he couldn’t forgive himself that easily.

“Can we watch the movie we were supposed to yesterday? I’ll make popcorn.” Kirishima nodded, feeling the tension leave his shoulders at the idea of holding you close on the couch. He’d be able to hold you close, play with your hair, and just be near you – everything he had been craving throughout the day.

“Yeah. I’d love that.”

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟏𝟑

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟔𝟐𝟒𝟒

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟏𝟑:

You pressed your lips together, staring at the board with a look of boredom and displeasure. There was an itchy feeling in your chest, it made you feel deeply uncomfortable. It’s almost as if today was going to be one of misery, you couldn’t tell if it’s just some sort of psychic reading or it’s because you have a test soon, it may even be both. You sighed and resisted the urge to lean your chair back to stretch, but the teacher was going over something important about the test.

You turned to the side, seeing Tohru fidget with one of her pencils to calm herself about the upcoming tests. She was wearing a new ribbon today. It was a soft shade of blue that had bits of lace on its edges, did she recently buy that? You wondered if she would get tutored by Yuki like he said they do, the upcoming test would be for math. It must be nice to have someone constantly tutor you and helping, but you quickly tried to dismiss this idea as a selfish need. Yuki was kind enough to help you with math the other day and you didn’t want to take advantage of his skills or generosity.

You didn’t need anyone or anything in this life if it meant making others happy.

You were better off alone and that is the truth, you thought. If you were God’s Messenger, perhaps your first message should be to announce the disbandment of the Zodiacs, maybe that would give equal freedom to everyone but yourself. You didn’t know exactly what the Zodiacs were going to do when they were free, but they could live their lives as regular animals with a stronger sense of friendship. You really didn’t know exactly what would happen, but it was simply a thought.

You yawned into your hand, feeling small droplets of tears forming at the corner of your eyes. You eyed Yuki silently, noticing the way he continued to tap the tip of his pencil against his paper as he rested his chin on the palm of his hand. He was extremely hardworking despite not wanting to clean his room. He is really cool, you thought. He smiles so often to the other girls in the class and can interact with them at a certain distance, whenever he was in a good mood he would shine even brighter than he already is, it was almost blinding, to say the least.

His eyes were a nice shade of grayish blue as well. They rarely ever looked strange underneath the light and they expressed so much of himself that you felt a bit envious. You nibbled on the bottom of your lip, you were starting to feel bad about yourself in class just because your eyes weren’t as good or pretty like Yuki’s.

You sighed and tried to write in your journal to keep your mind away from it. You noticed the small crease in one of the older pages, knowing that you rarely ever fold the paper or damage it, it was slightly suspicious. It seemed to be on the page when you came over to the Sohma household, did someone go through your journal? If so, when did this happen? Before you could explore this thought the sound of the bell rang echoed in the room, dismissing all of the students at once.

You almost forgot that you had to do your rounds today around the school for the committee, luckily you went through your previous pages to see that you had written yourself a reminder. As you were packing up your belongings, Yuki came to your side, already finished with his own things. You suppose that he wanted to do the rounds around the school with you this time instead of usually splitting up.

“You look better today, (L/n)-san, just a bit tired though.” He commented, your face turning away from him as you quickly packed your things into your bag.

“I suppose so. Where would you like to go first?” You asked, already knowing that the two of you needed to make your rounds at school.

“We could try the first couple of floors together and make our way up.” He responded, giving you a smile with his familiar grey eyes shining underneath the classroom lights.

You pressed your lips together in slight jealousy but nodded, “sure. We can go now.”

Yuki noticed the small pout on your lips during class but decided not to comment on it, finding the situation strange to explain if he were to talk about it. You were looking much calmer on the outside today, but he thought that you might have a whirlwind of thoughts by the way you continuously wrote in your journal. He wondered if what he said yesterday was affecting your mood.

“(L/n)-san, something is still bothering you despite our conversation yesterday.” He commented, “do you. . . Feel like I’m not really your friend?” 

You halted your steps, the two of you standing in the hallway only a few steps away from the classroom you exited. You didn’t know exactly how to respond to his comment, there was not much to say and you didn’t want to bother him with something dull like your problems. 

“It’s not that. . . I don’t want to raise concerns, I’m fine.” Before you could continue walking he tugged on your wrist, keeping you there.

Before he could say another word, you silently ‘booped’ his nose with your index finger. His cheeks turned a bright shade of red as you turned away from him.

“Relax Sohma-san. I’m fine.” You gave him a teasing smile before continuing to walk down the hallway.

Yuki sighed in response as he held his hand up towards his face, the unexpected gesture from you being unfamiliar as his cheeks slowly calmed down. He quickly walked to catch up to you, choosing to trust in your word that everything was alright.

While you still felt the ominous telling of the future, you thought to be on edge. You hoped that Yuki hadn’t noticed it but it seems as if he really wanted to be your actual friend. You tightened your grip around your journal as you both walked around the school in relative silence. 

You didn’t know exactly why being real friends mattered to him, he could easily make other friends that were much better than you, much easier to manage and easier to talk to. You dolefully stared at each of the classrooms and halls, doing your duty while minding your own thoughts. 

You were so gloomy. 

You frowned in response to your own comments before turning to look at Yuki. His beautiful eyes and soft hair, those fluttering long eyelashes, it was hard to deny that you were envious to the bone. You constantly compared yourself to him, the thought making you feel worse by the second. You grit your teeth, the action going unnoticed by Yuki as you both walked up the flight of stairs. 

Was it truly worth worrying about something you couldn’t change? 

You spent so much time worrying about yourself instead of actually wanting to protect others. . . You were. . . Too selfish. No matter how beautiful the outside of Yuki’s eyes were, there was always this hint of sorrow hidden beneath the color. You connected with him in a way, a subtle feeling but it still existed like a small string looped around your fingers.

Perhaps he could be the Rat to the Eagle’s destiny. 

Maybe he already is. 

You should try to open up to him, you thought. Instead of constantly worrying and thinking about the problems you may never fix or find resolve in, you could help someone else and see them smile as brightly as you wanted to shine. To erase the sadness that burdens the rat. . . That’s the job of God’s Messenger. 

There was this feeling of hope blooming within your chest.

You are the Eagle in the story.

The two of you finally approached the other floor, noticing Tohru being surrounded by a familiar group of boys from the Sohma family. While Kyo stood by her side while scolding at Momiji for his poor taste in clothing, Haru was standing there casually, his choice of wardrobe being nearly as bad as Momiji’s. You wondered if it was an inherited trait in the Sohma family to have poor taste in clothing or they were rebellious children who wanted to wear their own clothing. Everyone other than Yuki had a strange sense of fashion, but it wasn’t far fetched to say his choices are not weird as well.

Haru quickly notices Yuki coming up the steps, ignoring your presence as he went up to grip at Yuki’s sides. You wondered why he and the rest of the family constantly ignore you but you chose to believe that it was because you were an outsider. 

“Sheesh, I can’t believe you’re wearing that Momiji. Haru, you too.” Yuki said, the white-haired male staring at him, clearly tuning him out for a moment.

“Yuki-kun, (Y/n)-kun, are you both done with committee work?” You raised your eyebrow, noticing the sudden change in the way Tohru addressed Yuki. She was actually calling him bt his given name for once. Perhaps they really did get much closer in the past couple of days. 

The tinge of sadness poked at your heart, but you couldn’t understand why.

“No, not yet. We were doing our rounds at school and just happened to come across the two of you.” He responded, referring to the two rule-breaking students that couldn’t follow the dress code properly.

“Hey, Tohru! Guess what? I got told not to run around or horseplay at school because I might crash into a girl! So while I’m at school, I’m gonna play it cool!" Momiji added, gathering the rest of the groups' attention onto you, the outsider who heard this suspicious line. 

“Cool?! Is that outfit cool?!” Kyo shouted back. 

You stood there blank, not really knowing what to say. It seems as if they weren’t allowed to physically hug any girls at school, which does correlate to Yuki’s strange habit of pushing other girls away. 

Are the Sohma family. . . Allergic to girls? 

You deadpanned. 

“Your dubiousness is justified, Sohma Kyo of Class 2-D! Your orange hair bothers me, but a boy wearing a girl’s uniform is unprecedented! Brazen! Shameless!” The brown-haired upperclassman with his other council members stood beside him, all three of them wore classes, which you thought was an interesting thing to point out. “The teachers may allow it, but I will not! For I am student council president Takei Makoto!“ 

Crap. . . You thought, it’s Takei Makoto. 

You and Yuki facepalmed, trying not to get involved in this strange situation you were both tangled up in. More specifically, Yuki, as this was his entire family being criticized underneath the student council president. 

“Another idiot appears,” Haru comments. 

Takei raised his voice, stepping just a few feet away from Haru’s face, “just what do you think you’re doing, Sohma Hatsuharu? Your hair is white! And you’re practically jangling with jewelry. The audacity!”

“President Takei, that’s his natural hair.” Yuki clarified, holding up his hand to create distance between him and his cousin.

“Oh, Yuki-kun! (L/n)-san! How nice to see you both! But more important, natural?! Part of it is black!” Takei’s eyes seemed to have grown into hearts as he looked at both of you, finally acknowledging your presence. 

“Even so. . .” Yuki continued. 

You almost forgot that this student council was also highly infatuated with Yuki, similar to the way everyone else is also into him. You wanted to massage your head as you felt a migraine growing at the sound of his loud voice. 

“I don’t believe it! It goes against common sense!” He retorted, getting even closer to Haru’s face to examine his features. “Now what’s the meaning of your appearance? Is that your natural self, eh, Sohma Momiji?! Have you no male pride? If you’re like this at your age, your life is on the fast track to failure!”

“But. . . But this uniform looks better on me!” Momiji’s eyes began to tear up as you pressed your lips together into a frown. 

You quickly stepped between both of them, stopping Tohru in her path and pushing Takei back a few centimeters from Momiji. 

“That should be enough from you, President Takei.” 

Momiji’s eyes widened, seeing your intimidating presence being officially recognized to the entire group, your cold, harsh glare staring straight into Takei’s lens covered eyes. Takei seemed flustered at the sudden intrusion but he quickly adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Your eyes sharpened slightly as you focused your attention on the upperclassman in front of you, you certainly didn’t want to hear him degrade another student’s future.

He began to grit his teeth as he adjusted his glasses frames once more, trying too hard to look cool, “with all respect (L/n)-san, how could you stand by this rule-breaker?! Don’t you think he has no sense of pride?!” 

“I don’t think it’s much of an issue. If he feels the most comfortable, then that is what matters,” You addressed, crossing your arms across your chest, “our job here at school is to make the students feel safe and welcome, I doubt giving them an earful would help them.” 

“That is true! But we have specific rules that we all need to follow! I respect your opinion here (L/n)-san, but-”

“Shut up. Quit playing king of the hill, you human trash.” Haru interrupted. 

“Wh-wh-wh-what” Takei stuttered as Haru grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. 

“Oi, Haru!” Kyo shouted, trying to pull him away from Takei. 

“Fine, let me ask you: are guys wearing neckties never muggers? Are guys without piercings never bullies? Do guys with black hair never murder people?!” Haru violently shook the poor man around, his brain easily turning to mush as if it was being stirred around like a smoothie, “who do you think you are, eh? God? Well, ain’t that something! Give us a few words! God! Go on!”

You could see Takei’s soul slipping away from his body as Haru continued to shake him. 

Kyo gripped onto Haru’s shoulder, stopping him from turning Takei into some sort of drink by the excessive amount of shaking, “oi, cut it out! He’s got no training!”

“Butt out you stupid cat!”

“Don’t call me stupid you damn brat!”

“Oh? Don’t act like you’re so great! You ran from our last fight with your tail between your legs!” The two of them crashed against each other, their forehead grinding against one another as they stared at each other with a heated gaze. 

“You’re the one who called that fight off!”

“What are you on his side?! You think he’s right!?”

You clicked your tongue before shoving the two of them apart, “what are you two? Children? Knock it off.” You glared at them, causing both of them to cower down and turn their heads away from you, the argument settling down as quickly as it started. 

It was odd to see Haru not comment against you, but it seemed like even your gaze affected him. He quickly made his way to the other council members who were trying to bring Takei back to life, his body dangling lifelessly in their arms. 

“Hey, ladies,” Haru greeted.

“Don’t drag them into it. . .” Kyo said, his hand on his forehead as his brain started to ache at Haru’s nonsense.

“What do you think? Take Momiji there—don’t you think he’s fine in that uniform? He’ll grow eventually. What’s the harm in waiting to dress like a man until then? He’ll be a real looker, trust me.” The other girls turned their heads to see Momiji happily enjoying the candy lollipop he had in his hands. 

They quickly imagined a much older boy, his curly blond hair, and eyes becoming more mature as he gave the girls an imaginary wink. “He’s fine.” The girls responded, holding out their hands to worship the shorter boy.

“Don’t let him brainwash you!” Takei quickly stood up, still trying to defend his own point of view against someone as stubborn as Haru. “Wh-Wh-What’s the matter with you?! This is unheard of!”

“It’s always best to wear what looks good on you, huh? It’s like (L/n)-san said, whatever makes you comfortable!” Haru patted the top of Momiji’s head, the smaller boy feeling content as he continued to suck on the lollipop that he pulled out from his pocket.

You raised your eyebrows once again, you didn’t quite understand Haru’s behavior. There were moments where he would become calmer and then go back to being heated the next second. You were more surprised to hear that he actually addressed you by name this time.

“Unacceptable! That’s pure selfishness, and unfair to the other students—“

“You just won’t quit. Okay, then, what if Yuki wore a girl’s uniform?” Haru suggested. 

Takei went through a moment of shocking realization, his mind immediately picturing Yuki in the girl’s uniform, calling out his name in his girlish voice.

“It’s fine.” He responded, tears streaming down his eyes as he pictured such a glorious image.

You visibly cringed, “what? That’s disgusting.”

The rest of the group stared at you in shock, not knowing that you felt such strong revulsion against the idea of Yuki wearing feminine clothing. Yuki felt the most surprised, hearing you voice your own objection regarding his outer appearance. 

Could you really blame yourself for disliking the idea of forcing Yuki into girly clothing? It looked greatly uncomfortable and it made you sick seeing him constantly put up with the school for his image.

“Wh-Wh-What?! (L/n)-san, are you saying that Yuki-kun would look disgusting?!” Takei shouted, holding up his hand in a tightened fist, trying to preserve the image of Yuki in a girls' uniform in his head. 

“It’s gross. Could you stop making him uncomfortable by putting him in girl’s clothing?” You stared at him, disinterested in hearing the rest of his opinions, “don’t you ever think about what he has to say? Sorry President Takei, but it’s disgusting to even see.” 

Yuki clutched onto the sleeve of his uniform, feeling a sense of warmth eluding in his body as he heard you continue to bicker with Takei about him in a girls' uniform. At first, he thought you had called him disgusting but it seems much clearer that you acknowledge Yuki’s discomfort in being misgendered. Despite your harsh tone, it sounds as if you genuinely cared about his wellbeing more than he actually knew. His cheeks felt slightly hot as he watched you continue to tell Takei to quit harassing the students. 

He had his doubts earlier when the two of you were walking together around the school. He often wondered if he was the one being the horrible friend by constantly putting you off, or even hiding things that put pressure on your relationship.

You tilted your head over your shoulder, giving Yuki a look of understanding and a small, subtle smile. You watched as his cheeks heated up before you turned away. 

You made him felt as if there was someone who understood him.

Your cheeks felt hot to the touch. You didn’t know the exact reason why you blurted out such things, but it felt. . . Relieving? It felt nice being able to express your true thoughts and finally relieving Yuki of his image of “princess”. While Takei and Haru argued about the decision of clothes, it made you wonder about the way Yuki felt being forced into girlish clothing. You had already known from the start, based on the doleful look in his eyes that he never enjoyed any part of the school festival when dressed as a girl. 

You could understand that feeling. You didn’t like the idea of being forced into clothing that didn’t represent who you were. You felt much better voicing your objections. It’s a nice feeling, it was as if heavyweights were lifted off of you when you were finally able to say something for the sake of someone else.

Perhaps there is more to this than you realized. 

“O-Oh, dear. I seem to have gotten carried away!” Takei turned around and adjusted his glasses with his finger.

“You’re a formidable opponent, Sohma Hatsuharu and (L/n) (Y/n),” You restrained a yawn as Takei spun around and pointed towards Haru, “can you prove that’s your natural color, then?!”

Haru held up his arms as he relaxed his head against them, his laid-back personality starting to frustrate Takei, “sure can.”

“Oho, you have proof? Hard evidence that—“ Before he could even continue his sentence, Takei was forcefully dragged into the nearest boy’s restroom, “um. . . excuse me. . .?” He stumbled on his feet, his sense of balance warped as Haru tugged on his clothing.

The two of them disappeared into the bathroom. There was a short period of silence before the echoed screams of Takei bounced off of the walls and into your ears. Tohru squeaked in surprise while everyone seemed unaffected by the turn of events. In a few minutes, Takei stepped out, taking off his glasses as his face was pale with shock.

“Incontrovertible proof. I see I still have much to learn about the world,” He commented.

Haru shortly followed after, his face showing a smug and cocky smile.

Did he show him? Kyo thought.

He showed him, Yuki responded, almost as if they both had telepathic minds to read each other’s thoughts.

Pervert. You stared at the two of them with a confused look.

“You win this time! But I’ll get you all next time!” The student council members quickly fled from the scene while Haru stayed smirking, the feeling of pride and victory flowing through his veins.

“Did you actually show yo—“ Kyo wrapped his hand around your mouth, quickly silencing you. Your voice became muffled underneath his hand. 

“D-Don’t say it! Moron!” You resisted the urge to punch him but he removed his hand before you could even raise yours.

“Um. . . How did you prove that was your natural hair color?” Tohru asked, staring at Haru with a puzzled look in her eyes.

Yuki and Kyo went pale as Tohru asked such a strange question in her aloof personality. You wondered how dense Tohru was to not know how to prove one’s natural hair color, it was already suspicious enough considering that Haru dragged Takei into the bathroom.

“Wanna do it and find out? I’m in if you are.” Haru pulled Tohru close to him, his hand gently caressing her cheek, “it’s fine, we don’t have to be hugging each other to—“

Before he could even get another word into the explanation, Yuki and Kyo punched him to the ground, the two of them huffing either in anger or tiredness. 

“Dark is the one guy I can’t handle. . .” Kyo scoffed.

“Never mind. Don’t worry about it, Honda-san.” Yuki responded.

You wondered why they referred to Haru as “dark”, maybe it was simply because of how easily his personality changed to someone casual to serious. He was quite odd, to say the least. 

“I’m kinda tired now,” Haru responded, his hand gripping onto the sore spot of his head. He seemed to have calmed down and his voice sounded emotionless. 

“Oh, yeah? You’re tired, huh?” Kyo groaned.

The sound of the school bell ringing caught all of your attention, you now realized that you and Yuki actually didn’t finish your rounds around the school as you spent most of your time here.

“Ah! That's the bell!” Momiji called out.

“Would you be willing to meet my friends before you go home today?” Tohru asked, wanting to invite Momiji and Haru into a game of badminton after school with Uotani and Hanajima.

“Your friends? Sure, of course!” He responded happily, lifting his arms as he expressed his joy in full. “That reminds me—Hey, Yuki, and Kyo!”

“Could you stay behind? I need to tell you something.” He added. The two boys turned their attention towards Momiji.

“Then, (Y/n)-kun and I will go on ahead then,” Tohru responded.

“Sorry, Tohru.” Momiji apologized, only to be met with her shaking her head as she told him that it would be fine.

You nodded before leaving with Tohru, the two of you silently walking down the stairs, leaving the Sohma family to deal with whatever conflict that may have arisen.

“Ah, sorry for disturbing your duties (Y/n)-kun!” Tohru apologized, bringing her hands to her chest as she clasped them.

You shook your head, “it’s okay. I could always do them later today.”

You both finally approached the bottom floor as you continued walking down the path to your classroom. You noticed that the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom today, you silently admired them while Tohru continued to think about the Sohma family.

“You both look like you’re having fun.” A familiar voice called out, you and Tohru slowly turned to face the unknown person.

His dark hair flowed with the wind, the cherry blossom tree’s petals falling from the sky like snow.

“A. . . Akito-san. . .?” You muttered, your eyes widening at the sight of him at the school, his wardrobe still as plain as you last saw him on Valentine's Day.

Tohru flinched at your reaction, unsure about what to say or feel.

“It’s nice to see you again, (L/n)-san. . .” Akito said, slowly approaching you and Tohru. “It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

You’ve only seen him last time on Valentine's Day, which wasn’t even that long ago. Despite the dullness and emotionless look in his eyes, he stared down at Tohru with a focused gaze. The shorter girl panicked on the inside but tried to remain calm.

“Are you. . . Akito-san?” Tohru asked.

“That’s right. . . Honda Tohru.” He responded, his voice much dryer compared to when he was talking to you.

Tohru felt a jolt in her body as she quickly bowed down in front of him, “I’m very pleased to meet you!”  

Tohru looked intimidated by him. Your eyes turned towards Akito who was still looming above her figure, watching and studying each of the muscles that she moved. You didn’t understand whether or not Tohru had connections with Akito, her reaction to him seems as if she knows something.

“Well, you strike me as feminine and gentle.” Akito commented, referring to Tohru, “thank goodness you seem to be a good person. And most importantly, you’re quite cute.” He smiled.  

Tohru straightened her back, flailing her arms around in embarrassment, “what? Oh, no, you flatter—“

Akito laughed, the familiar tune of his voice giving you slight shivers down your spine, there was something unsettling about his tone towards Tohru, “don’t get flustered. You really are cute. Sorry, it took me so long to introduce myself. I’m just rather shy of strangers.”

Thats odd. . . He was the one to talk to you first, even though you were a complete stranger to him. You pressed your lips into a thin line, was he lying?

“Akito-san. . . What are you doing here?” You asked, trying to piece together the situation in front of you. Akito looked back at you and smiled, reaching out to your cheek to stroke it slowly.

“I only wanted to see the two of you of course. I heard many great things about Honda-san.” Something about his tone didn’t seem right to you. It made you feel a bit strange on the inside. “I know I haven’t kept in touch with you in a while. . . I’ve been quite busy.”

Your eyes trembled underneath his gaze, the touch of his cold hand contrasting the warmth of your skin as you both stared at each other. You still didn’t understand why Akito would be here, none of what he is saying made any sense to you whatsoever.

Unbeknownst to the three of you, Yuki’s eyes widened at the sight of Akito holding onto you, his hand pressed against the window before he sprinted down the stairs.

“How are you doing (L/n)-san? We should communicate more often you know.” Akito asked.

“I’m. . . I’m doing fine.” You responded, pulling away from his grasps, “there isn’t much going on.”

Akito hummed in response, feeling unsatisfied by your words. He quickly stepped back a few feet, “well, let me formally introduce myself to both of you.” 

“I’m Akito, the current Sohma family head. Pleased to meet you.” He introduced himself with a small bow.

Your heart dropped as you felt yourself almost losing your grip on your journal.

He‘s. . . Part of the Sohma family? Your blood felt as if it had been frozen over, the shock coursing through your veins as you looked at him in disbelief. He was related to Yuki all this time? When you first saw his appearance, it wasn’t just a coincidence then. . .

“I’d like for us to get along well. . . And please take care of Yuki and the others.” From the corner of Akito’s eyes, he could see the way you looked back at him in confusion, your brain trying to rack up any sort of information between your encounter to find a reasonable explanation for everything.

Such beautiful eyes. . . He thought, feeling the sense of joy and pleasure as he ravished the look in your eyes. There was something so satisfying seeing you make a similar face to Yuki, it might even be a better reaction than him.

“Akito!” The sound of Yuki’s voice interrupted the tense atmosphere.

“Ah, Yuki!” Akito called out, you spun around to see Yuki’s distraught expression, his eyes beginning to tremble at the sight of him.  Akito opened his arms out, “I’ve missed you, Yuki! You know, it feels like it’s been forever since I last saw you. You’re looking grown-up and taller—“

“What did you do?” Yuki cut him off, “what did you say to them?!

“Nothing. I was just saying hello to an old friend and Tohru-san.” Akito turned around to face Tohru, “right, Tohru-san? Wasn’t I just saying hello?”

The tension in the air continued to grow as your nails dug into the material of the journal cover.

An old friend? Yuki thought, turning his attention onto your figure that Akito was associated with. When did the two of you meet. . . ?

“Um, yes!” Tohru responded, feeling unsure about what to say in the situation. She could feel the tension in the air, as Akito confronted Yuki while in your presence.

“More importantly, Yuki. . .” Akito went back to Yuki, stepping in front of him as Yuki tightened his fist, “. . . there’s something I really want to ask you.”

Akito reached out to caress his cheek, similar to the way he treated you as Yuki’s hair strands flowed over his knuckles like a stream of water. The look of fear and terror reflected in Yuki’s grayish orbs, the irises trembling as much as his body was.

“Why did you skip New Year’s? Why would you do that? And when I’ve become so generous lately, too. When you do things like that, it seriously hurts my feelings.” Akito stared at Yuki with a menacing glare.

New Year’s. . .? The time of the Zodiac banquet. . .? You didn’t understand why your brain made that connection, but there was something so frightening seeing Yuki stand there petrified.

You didn’t understand.

You clenched the area around your heart, the feeling becoming painful like thousands of spikes piercing through your organ.

“Do I have to reeducate you, I wonder?” The shine in Yuki’s eyes completely disappeared, leaving only a dark and dull look in them, “in your special room? Will I be forced to spend long days teaching you proper disposition again?”

Akito traced his finger against Yuki’s lips as Yuki tilted his eyes away from him, trying to avoid his deathly gaze. His body was violently trembling as Akito continued to press him further.

Special. . . Room?

“I hate you. . . I hate you!” She smacked you across the face before throwing the porcelain bowl against the floor, the material shattering in front of the altar of God. The bowl nearly missed your eyes, causing your mother to violently scream and tug at your hair.

“This is all your fault! I hope you rot in hell! Here, in this very room!” She pulled on your (h/c) strands with enough force to pull out the longer, looser strands. “You’ll disappear in this room! Just like God said you would!”

You tightened your fist and your body reacted unconsciously, ripping Akito’s hand away from Yuki as you stepped in between them. Your body snapped in reaction to the two words Akito mentioned. His eyes widened at your sudden objection, feeling betrayal and annoyance running through his body.

“That’s enough, Akito-san,” You grit your teeth, “stop it already.”

“Is something wrong (L/n)-san? I am merely talking to Yuki.” He asked, his smile still plastered on his face.

“He doesn’t want to talk right now, so. . . Drop it already.” Akito narrowed his eyes at you, this was not going as he expected, however, he was thoroughly enjoying the look in your eyes at this moment. The look of despair in your eyes giving him the same feeling of euphoria. 

“Sorry, I’m going to take Sohma-san to the nurse. He said he was feeling sick earlier,” you lied before looking at Tohru, “go back to the classroom Tohru-kun.” 

Your eyes were no longer the shade of (e/c) Tohru recognized. It was much colder, emotionless, and filled to the brim with hidden pain. They no longer held any semblance of humanity left in them, it was almost as dull as Yuki’s. She wondered how much suffering you endured to match the same intensity as Yuki.

You gave Akito one last glance before grabbing onto Yuki’s wrist and pulling him away from the scene.

“Yuki, I hope you have a fun school life here.” Akito called out, “it’d make me happy if you came to visit sometime soon.”

You only ignored his words and forcefully pull Yuki away. He let you freely drag his body towards the nearby secluded cherry blossom tree, his mind still not being able to rid itself of the painful memories that resurfaced as he remained unfocused of his surroundings. His eyes began to water as he tried to blink them away, trying desperately not to cry out in public. You gently pushed his body to lean against the tree, your form kneeling beside him as you slowly brushed back the strands of hair blocking his face.

You wondered what brought this feeling in your heart. There was something about the look in his eyes, your mind and heart screaming to reach out to him. They were pounding desperately against your door to rescue him from something you both wanted escape from. They wanted something you were destined to do.

Your hands were warm, Yuki thought. This was the first time you’ve shown an intimate gesture in front of him. Your body felt nicer against his skin than it was with Akito’s cold fingers, it was bringing him slowly back into reality as his eyes continued to fight against the growing tears. You were truly a warm person inside.

It was showing at this very moment almost as if the key had unlocked your doors.

You noticed the small droplets of tears on the corner of his eyes, his fists still tightly clenched together. He looked like a fragile animal, one which tugged at your own emotional strings. You reached out to wipe at them before standing up and pulling your sweater off of your body.

You placed the top of your sweater on his head, shielding him away from the rest of the world from his pitiful crying. You gripped the edge of your skirt, the fabric wrinkling underneath your fingers.

“I don’t know what your relationship is with them. . . I’m not the best at comforting other people either. . . But it’s okay,” You didn’t know if these were the right words to say, but you watched as he tightened his hold on your sweater, “It’ll be okay in the end.”

You gently patted the top of his head, the fabric of your sweater creating a barrier between your skin and the softness of his hair. He stayed silent, unresponsive to your words. Your heart yearned for freedom in the eyes of others. 

“That room. . . You won’t go back there anymore.” You spoke gently, almost like a whisper, his body beginning to release the pent up tears that flowed down his cheek but were masked by your clothing. “I promise you that. . .”

“I won’t let you go back there anymore.”

Those were simple words that expressed the feeling in your heart.

You figured out what you wanted and needed to do in your life. It was to play the role of the Eagle you desperately wanted to be, one to fulfill and shoulder the burden of those you swore to protect, even if it meant promising your loyalty to God.

There was no more fretting about what you needed.

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Fic: History Repeats

Samurai Jack didn’t second-guess his decisions anymore whenever he was forced to abandon his life’s mission for the sake of others.  He couldn’t afford to: It was just his nature and little would change the choices he made in the moments he did.  If returning to the distant past and defeating Aku erased the history he made in the present, he still couldn’t bring himself to walk away from those in need of his help even when the key to getting home was just a breath away.  So, as he handed off the Temporal Stone to the group of young, fellow time-travelers from Dexter’s experiment, he convinced himself that he felt nothing.  It needed to be done.

It wasn’t like he knew how to properly use it or the Timestream Vortex anyway. He’d only done so once: They couldn’t work on their own and he couldn’t figure out how to use them while limiting the damage to the altered timeline.  A future without Aku meant a future saved for many, but might also potentially destroy that for others. It was just one of many worries: The creation of time loops, paradoxes, and wormholes; the idea that his efforts to change history had the potential to be the catalyst of current events...  There were far more people who toyed with time than he ever imagined and the more of them he met, the more his resolve wavered.  Meanwhile, what attempts Jack did still make to return to the past always ended up in vain, either thanks to Aku or his own actions.

After his fight with the Guardian, he’d started wondering if he was truly meant to go back in the first place.  Maybe he had no other choice but to accept his new place in the timeline...

Beside him, Mandark watched the research participants race off to their next task and then eyed the warrior carefully.  “Sending them back first is our best option,” he said, as if Jack himself wasn’t already aware, “At least under Aku, we’ve still got a world to save.  If Fuse wins, we won’t even have that left.”

Of course, that brought on a whole new slew of ‘what-ifs’ and ‘maybes,’ but Jack still felt it was the right call.  Since Aku had long gone into hiding, that made Planet Fusion the biggest immediate threat.  If returning home erased his part in this war, if he helped Earth win now, his knowledge of it could lead to an even greater victory the second time.

Moreover, he’d been at the Battle of Tech Square, when the research participants first arrived in the future.  He’d seen them on the airship afterword and the despondent look in their eyes when they found what their world had become.  It was so much like his own arrival... He didn’t want them to share that pain.  It made him feel a small kinship toward them, one that stirred an even bigger sense of personal responsibility than normal.  

Jack sighed, “I only hope the jump this time is less dangerous than the last.”

Mandark smirked, unable to help himself from savoring his rivals’ error even after this long, “Of course it won’t be!  I’m the one leading the operation!”   The young genius’ thoughts turned inward, “Maybe this whole mess will teach them what happens when you work for an amateur like Dex-dork. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them apply for my company instead as soon as they make it back.”

While he didn’t approve of that arrogance, he choose to ignore that last comment, not wanting to start an argument, “Will this also correct the trouble with the wormholes?”

Mandark’s proud expression shifted back into a frown.  He’d rather have been praised... “It should help stabilize them, but I’m not promising anything.  The wormholes have linked the past and future in a way they never should’ve crossed.  The return jump might relieve some of the damage or whatever those labrats take with them from here might make things worse.  We won’t know the extent of it without long-term observation.  And, sad to say, that’ll probably be something for another, future me to play around with...”

The scientist almost sounded disappointed.  Of course, for however bad the situation was or however it started, there also had to be a part of his mind that was absolutely ecstatic about the potential discoveries to be made.  However, whether this timeline was erased or Earth met its end by Fuse, he wouldn’t be around long enough to see them.

Jack wasn’t as interested in the science of it all as he was the results.  “You are certain though that no harm will come to the time-travelers?”

He brushed the warrior’s concerns off with a wave of his hand, “Ah, it should pretty much be like waking up from a long nightmare!  They’ll blink and be back before they know it.  And if the shock gets to them, well, then I hope Dexlabs has a few, good therapists lined up.”

It wasn’t quite what he meant: Jack was more concerned about their physical states than mental ones.  No, he didn’t think the jump would cause any deformities or mutations--that was pretty much a constant from each experience he heard about--but he did wonder if the initial accident may have caused side affects all the same.  

Like his own...  Jack didn’t know what exactly it was, but he could tell that something was very wrong with him.  The more years passed, the more uneasy he felt.  A part of him pinned it on the fact that the world was just a far different place than anything he’d been used to: It was impossible to keep up.  Nevertheless, in a world where change and growth was the natural order of life, he felt so... constant.  He didn’t even look much different than when he first came to the future.  It was starting to scare him.

If there was anyone else who experienced what he was going through, he’d never heard of it.  He wanted answers, but at the same time, he hoped there wouldn’t come a day when he and the research participants shared that in common as well.  Either way, he was going to keep an eye on them.  Even the version of him that existed before this war would see to that.

A light on his communicator blinked to life, alerting him that the research participants were drawing close to the first point to triangulating the Timestream Vortex and awaiting orders.  Jack took another breath and smiled, ready to guide them. 

[iturbide]

Speaking of which...may we hear some more about their interactions in Kintsugi?

Oh of course I do love the fact that Kintsugi puts them together more than most of my other stuff (with the exception of Pre-Timeskip Fix-It, but that’s a whole other thing). 

Although their first meeting is relatively brief, since Ferdinand shows up with reinforcements at Myrddin and leaves shortly after the battle’s end, it’s actually a really important event because of where Ferdinand is mentally when it happens.  Edelgard sends him as the leader of the reinforcements for the Great Bridge, something that should be an honor -- but that Ferdinand can’t help but think is actually a subtle way of disposing of him since he continues to be her most vocal opponent in the Empire.  He doesn’t want to suspect this, but he can’t silence that deeply rooted doubt, either.  On top of that, he knows that if he falls, his friends back in the Empire, and in particular the ones that are suffering most from this drawn-out war (Bernadetta, Dorothea, and Petra chief among them) will be alone: he has people who depend on him, people he has to return to, and he’s terrified of dying here and leaving them without any kind of lifeline.

It makes him fight all the harder...but it doesn’t see him claim victory.  He makes the reasonable choice of trying to take out Marianne first, but Hilda blocks for her, and he finds himself unable to get through the Goneril’s defense; not only that, the cavalry arrives in the form of Lorenz, who tries to talk Ferdinand down and begs to know why he’s doing this, since this war goes against everything  his noble spirit should support -- and Ferdinand breaks, because he has no choice, they need him to come back! 

Unbeknownst to him, Claude and Byleth had been coming up from behind to assist after dealing with the rest of the reinforcements, and Claude naturally asks who needs him to come back -- which, of course, startles Ferdinand into whirling around with his lance, to which Claude’s wyvern shoots back up out of reach while Byleth ducks under its swing before Lorenz finally takes Ferdinand down, incapacitating and disarming him.  Ferdinand fully expects that he is going to die there, but resolves that he’s going to do it with his head held high...and instead Claude just asks him, conversationally, how things are going in the Empire.  Ferdinand is taken aback, and scoffs that he would never betray Adrestia by divulging secrets to the enemy, to which Claude replies that he wouldn’t ask Ferdinand to: he just wants to know what’s going on, because now that they’re restoring Garreg Mach they’ve been seeing a lot of Seiros worshippers coming in from the Empire as refugees, which is...well, understandably disconcerting.

Ferdinand can’t actually see how this kind of information would betray the Empire.  So he talks a little bit about the edicts that Edelgard has put in place, the conditions that commoners in Adrestia have been living through for the past few years...and though he doesn’t say it out loud it’s clear from how he speaks and how he looks that none of this is what he expected -- none of this is what he wanted, but he doesn’t feel he has a choice but to stay and keep pushing for change, even if Edelgard doesn’t want to listen to him, because leaving and being branded a traitor means that no one with power is left who will vouch for the commoners.  Claude can hear it and see it while Ferdinand speaks...and in the end, he suggests letting Ferdinand go.

This shocks everyone, Ferdinand included.  He naturally expects that Claude will want him to become a spy for the Alliance, which his noble heart would never allow -- and Claude gives him such a look, because he’s kidding, right?  Ferdinand, you would make a terrible spy, to which everyone around him nods in agreement...and eventually Ferdie grudgingly nods, too, because he really would be.  But Claude tells him that Adrestia needs someone like Ferdinand, who’s going to fight for the people even if it means butting heads with the Empress: the Alliance is going to do all it can to keep the loss of life to a minimum, but things are bound to get worse before they get better, so the best place for Ferdinand is back in the Empire where he’ll be able to save the most lives.

Ferdinand, who had never been able to get a solid read on Claude during their time in the Academy, is startled by this...but grateful, too, since it means that he’ll be able to return to the people who most need him.  He doesn’t consider himself Claude’s agent, nor does Claude consider him one -- but Claude still asks Marianne to patch Ferdinand up before he leaves, because he’s a good guy and doesn’t want to send Ferdie off in such rough shape.  Ferdinand himself is the one who refuses the offer, remarking that it would be more suspicious if he returned from a rout with signs of healing...which Claude can’t really argue, even if he’s not a fan.  (He still slips Ferdie a vulnerary so he can at least take care of himself, though he does it without the nobleman realizing, so Ferdinand just gets to puzzle over the fact that he doesn’t remember packing that before he left.)

Fast forward many months and Ferdinand and Claude finally run into each other again at Enbarr -- specifically, after the battle’s over and Edelgard is secretly taken into Alliance custody (since, while they did see each other in the battle for the palace, they didn’t have a chance to really interact since Claude and Ashe had their hands full trying to keep Petra from murdering someone).  Ferdinand, quite reasonably, wants to know what’s going to happen to the Empire now that Edelgard has been deposed, and Claude replies that it’s a good question -- and one he doesn’t know how to answer.  He doesn’t intend to take over the Empire, because that would just be repeating the same mistakes Edelgard made; but he’s also not from the Empire, and doesn’t know its history all that well, so he can’t really speculate on what will happen...or what should happen, for that matter.  He opens it up for open discussion with Ferdinand -- probably over tea, since Ferdie is the sort to offer to make some to chat over -- and while Ferdinand has no ambition to take over as ruler of the Empire, he does realize that Adrestia will need some kind of leadership, and finds that Claude has a broad and curious array of suggestions that don’t erase what Edelgard was trying to do (though he does put far more emphasis on lifting up the common folk than Edelgard did with her meritocratic system -- he wholeheartedly praises Ferdinand’s idea of making education available to everyone regardless of status and encourages him to make that happen).

Despite the fact that Ferdinand is technically a prisoner, he ends up free to roam the camp in much the way that Linhardt and Caspar have -- and of course he takes full advantage, making himself right at home and chatting with everyone on the way back to Garreg Mach.  While he doesn’t play a major role in the big discussions between Byleth, Claude, Dimitri, Edelgard, and Rhea (because Claude needs answers), he does bring tea to all the meetings and throws Edelgard for a loop because he’s clearly doing it of his own volition (and quite happily, at that).  He’s happy that there’s no fighting to worry about and wants, more than anything, to do what he can for the survivors -- starting with his friends, since they’re so close at hand and still deeply affected.

Of course, Claude does manage to pry information out of Edelgard and Rhea pertaining to the deeper mysteries in Fodlan, including Those Who Slither.  And because they still pose a major threat, Claude wants to deal with them as soon as possible -- but the way he does it is by telling everyone about what he learned, and letting them decide whether they want to take part or not.  After getting dragged into a five year war by Edelgard’s personal ambitions, this is a pretty shocking move to Ferdinand -- and all the more since Claude makes it clear that he’s going regardless of who else decides to come, because this isn’t something they can leave alone, but he doesn’t want to force anyone to take part, especially after how much they’ve suffered.  Dimitri is one of the first who agrees to come with him, along with Hilda -- but Ferdinand volunteers to come, too, for the sake of everyone in the Empire in hopes of preventing further suffering. 

(While Claude isn’t surprised by this move necessarily, he is grateful for it, because it really is just like Ferdinand to step up for the sake of helping everyone else.  He’s just that kind of guy.)

I just feel like there would be a lot of mutual respect between them, especially as they get the full measure of one another, and that they’d be able to learn from one another and get all new ideas from their discussions.  Claude can take some of these notions back to Almyra with him, just as Ferdinand can implement some of Claude’s ideas in Adrestia once they start rebuilding -- plus it’s just really nice to think about these two men who care so much about people and making the world a better place getting a chance to interact with each other and have a nice time together over tea and conversation.

[cosmic-hearts]

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | epilogue

lee donghyuck x female reader 

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; none

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after. 

<< previous 

2 years later 

Fairy lights illuminate the darkened streets of Hongdae, and everywhere you go, you see groups of friends trooping about and couples huddled close together. For a moment, you feel a bitter pang of loneliness, conscious of how glaringly isolated you appear, but then you tell yourself that you’re walking with a purpose, and you’re not meant to be milling aimlessly about like these carefree youngsters around you. 

Just like it always has been. 

You remember when you were younger, you wished you could chill with friends in a cafe in Hongdae, the neighbourhood brimming with the vitality of youthful hearts. But you were always either busy studying or attending social functions, and you hung out more with adults than people your age. Of course, there was a time when you acted like a normal teenager for once; you went to a high school party, got stuck in a musty closet with a boy who had an angelic voice, and you got so wasted that said boy had to haul your drunk ass home. 

You went to cafes with him; he dirtied your favourite bag, but he got you a new one to make up for it. He sang you songs on the hood of his car, beneath the cloak of stars that sheltered you both. He took you to prom and told you that you were pretty; you had never seen him so shy before. He kissed you once, breathing starlight into your soul and fire into your veins. And he even gave you a song, wrote a melody into your heart that you find yourself humming occasionally, till this very day. 

You pull your scarf tighter around your neck as a gust of chilly air blows across your cheek, sweeping up the fallen leaves scattered across the sidewalk. All that’s left of the boy now are nothing more than bittersweet memories, a silent echo of what could have been. You don’t like to dwell on it too much; there’s simply no point. You’d stopped building castles in the air ages ago. 

But you’d never stopped hoping, with all your heart, that he’s finally managed to build his own castles for real. 

You cast a quick glance at your watch, jolting yourself back to reality; you had been sent by your parents to check up on the new branch of their fashion company they just had opened up at Hongdae. You are now slowly learning the ropes of running their company, getting ready to take over. You’re not sure if this is truly what you want in life—you wish you had Donghyuck’s firm innate passion for something—but for now, it gives you a vague sense of fulfilment, which is sufficient. Maybe one day you’ll find something of your own that ignites a spark within you and burns so brightly that you’ll have no choice but to pursue it in reckless, passionate abandon. 

As you walk with quickened steps and renewed purpose, the heels of your boots clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you begin to notice more and more buskers lining the street, each with crowds of people surrounding them. Most are dancing; there are a couple singers as well, and even a rapper at the end of the street. 

You’re about to turn the corner when a familiar melody halts you right in your tracks.

And it’s not just the melody; it’s that honeyed, saccharine voice you’d once thought was a celestial gift from the heavens. That voice you wanted to have on loop forever because it was too precious and beautiful to ever let go. 

Lee Donghyuck’s voice.

True enough, he sits on a high stool a few feet away, eyes closed as he sings to a small crowd around him. But he looks so immersed in his own little world that you think it’s more likely he’s singing to himself rather than performing to anyone else.

Bathed in the vivid glow of passion and completely in his own element, moonlight irradiating the planes of his face, he’s just so beautiful.

He has glossy purple hair now, and it’s tucked messily under a black cap. His fingers are closed tight around a mic in his hands as he belts out the lyrics to ‘Beautiful Time’. 

Your song. The song he wrote just for you. 

Hearing it live is truly a surreal experience. Your hands tremble slightly; you clutch your bag just a little tighter.

It’s all worth it, and you’re so glad. Seeing him like this, you know you made the right choice back then.

The song ends, and everyone breaks out into applause. It is just like that day in the cafe, when Donghyuck sang and everyone fell right under his spell, entranced by the sound of his voice. 

“Thank you,” Donghyuck says bashfully, smiling at the floor and rubbing his neck. “Actually, I wrote this song for my friend. It’s been really long since I last saw her, and… well, I really miss her.”

Your heart just about stops right there. 

“I was about to give up singing, but she was the one who persuaded me not to. And I’ll be forever grateful to her for that.”

“I hope that wherever she is, she’s happy, and I hope she always will be.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek; you wipe it away hastily. 

“All right,” Donghyuck says, grabbing the mic again. “It’s time for the last song of tonight. I hope all of you will enjoy it.”

You want, more than anything, to stay and listen to this last song, but you know that once you do that, you won’t be able to move on with your life and do what you’re supposed to do. You’ll fall in too deep, and there will be no escape this time. Donghyuck’s voice just has that power over you.

No, Donghyuck has that power over you.

So you clutch resolutely onto your Prada bag, steal one last longing look at the boy who’s held your heart hostage, and walk away.

—

Donghyuck’s about to start the last song of the night when he notices someone lurking at the edge of the audience, turning away to walk off, presumably to the next busker.

More specifically, he notices the bag the person is carrying; it is filled with pastel hues of pink, purple and blue, with a shiny triangular Prada logo right smack in the centre. It is all too strikingly familiar. 

Because he chose those colours himself. And he chose the customised design, which means that the bag can belong only to one person.

A surge of adrenaline pumps through Donghyuck’s veins; he gets up from his stool and takes off into the night, startling the little crowd around him. But he could care less.

The past two years, he’s never stopped thinking about you. He’d broken up with Sohui shortly after the prom he took you to, and he was planning to tell you just that on the night of your birthday. That you two didn’t need that stupid contract anymore, not when he thinks his heart might have finally found its home. That when he kissed you, it was like the stars aligned and he felt constellations erupt in the universe of his soul. That he was sorry for ever hating you, and he’d make it up to you in any way you wanted. But then you abruptly ended it all, cutting off all forms of contact with him and destroying all the castles he’d built in the air.

He figured you probably would never feel the same way as he did.

But that didn’t stop him from writing, singing, and dreaming about you. After all, you told him to chase his dreams, and he wouldn’t stop doing that, not for the world.

And now, you’re right there within his grasp. He’s not letting you slip away from him again.

It doesn’t take him long to catch up to you. Before you can walk any further, he grabs your wrist and you whirl around in response.

It’s really you. You look just as ethereal as ever, with your hair a moonlit cascade down your back, eyes sparkling like stars amid sundown.

“Y/N,” he breathes, just as your eyes widen at the sight of the boy you’d resolved to erase from your life standing right before you.

And it is at that moment that the castles in the air come alive.

—

a/n; aaand that’s a wrap!! tysm for all the support and the comments hehe <3 i hope you guys enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it !! peace out, stay safe and healthy yall ^^ till next time :) 

[wordynerdygurl]

Echoes of You

Author’s Note:  This is from a request sent in to my 500 Followers Challenge.  I’ve included it below... I did have fun with it!  As always, please feel free to re-blog, share, and comment!  Also, I’m accepting tag list requests and story requests!  *The GIF is perfect and I want to thank the original creator/ poster!* Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Summary/ Request: “Loki is badly hurt on a mission and the reader has to make some sort of deal with a dark magical entity to save him. The price she has to pay is that everyone she knows is going to forget she ever existed. She takes the deal and tries to build a new life away from the avengers, however she and Loki keep running into each other and he's very drawn to her.  After a lot of pestering, she agrees to go on a date with him on the condition that he is going to leave her alone after that. Their date goes great and they're almost about to have sex, but she stops him because she thinks he would've never wanted her if he actually had his memories. Obviously he knows though, they both confess their feelings and it ends on passionate, rough smut. Hope that's not too much and you have fun with it :)” Warnings:  Battle scenes of the MCU variety, talk of blood/ death, angst and SMUT

"LOKI!"  

Time freezes in that screamed second.  

You feel yourself running, feet sliding in the gritty sand beneath your boots, desperate.  He is impossibly far away but you can make it.  You have to.

Skidding into the gravel on your knees, you shout his name as you watch him crumple.  He's gone pale, limp, boneless in your arms.  There's blood, lots of it, too much to stop on your own.  It flows freely, drenching you down to your skin, warm and sticky.  There’s no way to stem the flood.  

In your dreams you always catch him in time.  Keeping him off the cold ground, hugging his lean body to yours, ignoring the others as they fight around you.  His twinkling eyes flutter but they stay open, struggling to focus on you.  You watch his soft lips part, they form words, sounds that never reach you in the vacuum of your panic.  

"Hush… it's ok… I'm here.  I got you."  Gurgling platitudes gush from you but there's no way to know if he hears them. A smile, young and sweet spreads across his unbearably handsome face.  Using his last measure of strength, Loki strokes your cheek as you press your hot lips to his too cool skin.  

You wake up wailing, the pillow beneath you wet.  Honestly, it's never dry, not anymore.  Because every night you try to save Loki.  Every night he speaks soundlessly to you.  And every morning you wake up to reality.

Dawn's dark hides you and your pain.  You let the loss of Loki roll over you.  Pulling you under in a rip tide of shuddering sobs, drowning you with memories of what you had before and what you have now.  Swallowing that hard knot of agony, bitter and jagged, your crying steadied then dried out after a few minutes.

This new existence, this new life, was lonely.  Awake now, well before the sun, you pushed out of bed and geared up for a run without much enthusiasm.  When you couldn't ease your mind you took it out on your body.  

Stepping onto the dim sidewalk you stretched just a little.  You wanted to punish your subconscious, your wayward brain, not tear a hamstring.  Setting off with a sigh, your feet slapping the pavement in an even staccato, you tried to turn your mind off.  

On the quiet streets of your new city, one you were struggling to make feel like home, you wanted to outrun the past.  Eager to put distance between you and all that had come before, forcing your legs to go further, faster, you ran by yourself in the shadows.  There was no one to disturb you, not at this ungodly hour.  Not that anyone would.  You used to be a SHIELD agent, one who looked mad at the world, which you were.  So you ran on, giving no thought to direction or neighborhood, welcoming any and all risk if it meant peace of mind. 

Most days the sweat and strain were enough to calm your demons.  By running your body down, your mind would let go too.  Not today.  Today, your dream, like a well directed film, played on a loop in your head.  Each scene was vivid, real, raw.  And not true.

---

"You come here freely?"

Hitching your chin defiantly, "Yes."

The ethereal being before you seemed to float on a crimson cloud, too beautiful to be benevolent, the aura around her dusky skin crackling violet.  Part sorceress, part dark queen, she was your last hope.  A final step you might take to keep Loki alive.

Slinking snake like, she sidled to your side, "I know what brings you here, mortal.  I know what you want."

"Then you know I need help.  Your help."  You weren't begging.  At least not yet, anyway.  But the smell of desperation curled around you, black and rotten, regardless.

"You are not the one in need.  Odin's adopted boy… the prince.  He is dying.  Is it not so?"

Her voice was everywhere and nowhere at the same time.  Strong, soft and sweet, the witch's words echoed in the close quarters of her stony temple.  Swirling around you in the rouge red ribbons of her eternal energy, she did not wait for your reply.  "What is it to you, child?  The death of a Jotun foundling can mean but little to a human.  And yet, you come to me willingly.  Why?"

Hot tears formed, threatening to splash, scalding your cheeks.  Your breath left your body as a gutted groan tore the words from your deepest soul, "I love him."

"Love.  Such a human emotion."  You felt her then, the physicality of her form, as she brushed an errant tear from your face.  The enchantress stilled, her beautiful dark skinned face emerging in front of you, scrutinizing your expression, reading your pain.

Questioning you quietly, "You say that you love the youngest of Odin's sons."

"I do."

"The magic you ask for, it carries a hefty price."

Hope at the thought of her assistance made you boisterous.   "Anything!  I will pay any price.  Twice over, if it keeps Loki alive."

Glowing plum colored, her gaze took you in, measuring you and your resolve.  "Your sacrifice will be great, make no mistake.  It will test the love you claim to feel for this demi-god."

What did you care of sacrifices if it kept Loki alive?  Was there a price too high for the life of your love?  Anger flashed through you, frustrated and flustered, "I heard you the first time.  Will you aid me or not?"

"So cross, so eager."  Silver laughter filled the cavernous space but was short lived.  "You do not know the full cost of your desires and yet... you are in a rush to see them come to fruition.  Child, I can do what you ask. I will do it, if you agree.  In return... no one will remember you.  Only this will purchase Loki's life."

"What?"

The Sorceress took your hand, testing its weight, turning your palm up.  "You heard me.  If this is truly what you want… to keep Loki alive, then your life… your history will be erased."

Gulping hard, understanding hitting you like a freight train, "My life for his?  Is that it?"

Violet eyes bore into yours, purple orbs that fill your vision, unblinking.  "No… you will not die, little mortal.  It is far worse than that.  You will live, but you will live in isolation.  You will be forgotten by Loki… by your family… by your friends.  You will meet them as strangers.  They will carry on without you."

"But Loki will live?"  He had to, you had come too far to fail your God now.

"Yes.  Will you be able to?"

"Me?  I don't understand what you're asking me."

"Will you be able to have a life without the man you say you love?"

Could you?  There had been no one like Loki in your life before.  Smart and strong, sarcastic and cutting, tender and kind.  Loki was all the things you needed in a partner and he made you better at the same time.  Taming you, just a little, being loved by Loki had softened some of your rough edges.  Would it be easy to know he was walking around, enjoying life, but not be a part of it?  No.  But how else could you honor the man who had given you so much?  

With a straining voice, "Loving him, having been loved by him, will have to be enough to satisfy my soul.  There is no other option for me."

Nodding solemnly, content at your knowledge of the bargain, the crimson conjurer drew a symbol on the pad of your hand.  Watching her with widening eyes, she pulled a gossamer green thread from the center of your palm.  A string of memories erasing you in order to allow Loki to survive.  

"It is longer than I would've thought, deeper too."  And you knew what she meant instinctively because your heart pinched as her hands gathered more and more of your time with Loki to her.  Dragging him out of your life with a sharp throb.  When it was over the witch had a skein of your history, emerald green and glossy, which she evaporated into a wisp of smoke.  

You had a small six pointed star shaped scar in the center of your hand.  It was your sole token of the life you and Loki had shared.  That and the memories that you alone carried.

"It is done."  There was finality in her words, a dismissive quality, and for the first time in her presence you were frightened.  Not of her, but of the new world you were facing.

Solemnly, you bowed your head, "Thank you." 

"We shall see, human.  We shall see."

---

By the time you return home, soaked with sweat, you're tired but feeling more like yourself.  It's a relief to feel the night's pain fade enough for you to shower and dress for work.  It's not a career.  But it is just enough to almost pay rent and buy food.

Working with people, although frustrating at times, really does keep the white light of your emptiness away.  Besides, the store offered a discount on clothes, which helped, and there was always something physical to be done.  Lifting boxes, moving racks, hauling trash.  Anything to keep you thoughtlessly busy.  Like you did everyday, you threw yourself into the job, mindlessly.  It was a life raft of sorts, a buoy keeping you afloat, a thing to cling to while trying not to let the weight of your past drag you down.

Listening to the consumer safe playlist, getting into a rhythm, you bobbed your head as your folded t-shirts.  Your co-workers hated restocking, rehanging, straightening the racks.  So, naturally that's what you were doing, lost in your own little world.

"I really don't see why we have to be here, brother."  Something about that voice made you pause.  Haughty and high handed, you could swear that it was…

"Jane has a birthday, brother.  I will not forget it."

"Then, for the love of Odin, bring her some lovely Asgardian silks.  Jewelry in gold or silver.  Or better yet, take her home, seduce her soundly.  Do anything but buy that hideous sweater."

"It's not hideous.  You know nothing of Midgardian fashion."

"Me?  I know nothing?  Dear brother, this suit is Armani.  That is designer.  That means something."

"It means you spent way too much coin, Loki."

Turning quickly you moved closer to the men, still listening, still in disbelief.  Peeking at the mismatched pair through a clothing rack, pushing two furry sweaters apart, your heart was racing.  Stunned, you recognized the strong back of the tall, broad blonde.  When he moved toward another display of shits your jaw fell open.  Loki was here!  Not five feet away!  

"Bah!  I don't see her size."  Thor sighed in frustration, the offending rack of clothes wobbling with the force of his displeasure.  

Loki, picking lint from his sleeve, "Find a clerk… ask for the awful thing in Jane's size so we can get out of this place."  Lifting his piercing blue eyes, he spied you, trying to slip away unnoticed, "You!  Hello?  Yes… can you help us?"

It takes you a second to register that Loki, your Loki, is addressing you.  Stiffly, you straighten up, your eyes rising to his inquisitive azure ones.  They snap with a vitality that was missing when you saw him last.

A cloud passes over his gaze.  Shadows of recognition, maybe?  Or is that just what you want to see?

"Um… sure.  What… uh, what do you need, sir?"  You sound like a robot.  Cringing at the put on voice you're using, awkward and uncomfortable, you smile at Thor.

Loki steps closer, brushing past his brother, not quite in your space but close enough for you to smell his skin.  A familiar combination of leather and vanilla, sugar and spice, reaches out to you.  Your breath hitches at the nearness of him.  Memories on the tip of your tongue.

He's holding a fuzzy sweater, one the color of spicy mustard, about to hand it to you when his head tilts.  "Do… do I know you?"

Heat climbs your face.  Yes.  Yes, Loki.  You know me.  You know me in a way no one else could ever know me.  You know the sound of my sobs and the sigh of my satisfaction.  Why I love the smell of the snow and hate lima beans.  You know me.

And I know you.  I know the strength of your character.   The depth of your love.  Which thoughts haunt you, songs your mother sang over your crib, poems written for no one else to read.  Oh yes, I know you.

But what you say is, "Me?  No… nope.  No.  We've… I mean, no.  You don't know me."  Kicking yourself mentally, the verbal diarrhea couldn't be stopped, and now Loki's surveying you even more closely.

"Are you certain?  It's just… I could swear that I know you."  For the first time since meeting Loki you hear uncertainty in his voice.  It's almost enough to weaken your resolve, tell him all of it, even if it's in the middle of The Loft.

"Have… have you been in the shop before?  I uh, I work a lot."  Looking anywhere but at the handsome man from your nightmares, you settle on the offending sweater, trying to seem like an eager employee not a stuttering mess.

"No."  His smile widened, the natural flirt in him coming out to play, "We have never set foot in this place."

Your thoughts jumbled.  Unprepared for facing Loki, unsure of how to handle seeing him again, you focused on the top Thor wanted to give Jane.  "Oh… well, maybe I just look like someone you used to know?  Um… what size did you say?"

Thor, watching the interaction between you and Loki, was just happy to get back into the conversation.  "Yes.  Size 2 please, my good woman."

Casting Loki a side eyed glance, chuckling at Thor, you made your way to the stockroom.  Stay calm, you willed yourself.  Keeping your back straight, your head level and your breathing even, you walked towards the back.  Your heart?  That jerk was pumping overtime. As soon as you are gone, Thor rounds on his younger brother, "She likes you, Loki!  And, she is rather cute."

Rolling his eyes with a groan, "Cute?  She is far more beautiful than that, brother."

Wagging his golden brows playfully, the God of Thunder teased, "You should take her on a date.  To dinner.  She might actually say yes!"

"It's creepy.  No woman wants to be courted while they're at work.  Although…"  Looking longingly at the “Employees Only” sign on the door you had disappeared into, Loki sighed.

"Yes, brother?"

"Although, she does remind me of someone."

"I have never seen her before.  And she is certainly Midgardian.  There's no other-worldly influence in her."  Thor was sliding through hangers, evaluating gift options for Jane, talking in what he thought was a whisper.

"Yes.  Yes… it's just so strange.  She is so familiar… too familiar."  Loki left his sentence hanging in the air.  You were striding his way, a soft, down turned expression on your face.  The urge to kiss the corners of your mouth overwhelmed him.

"Hi again."  Exhaling, you risked a full look at Loki.  He was scrutinizing you, closer than before, needing to solve the mystery of your connection.

"Hello."  

God, you missed his eyes.  The serious way they took in every detail.  How they lit up with Loki's laughing or glowed with mischief when he got up to no good.  

Swallowing dryly, you remembered his eyes darkening with passion.  Appraising you through dusky lashes, half closed in pleasure as you hugged his body snugly to your own.  His heavy heat inside of you, both finding release, breathing hard, holding onto each other while the world around you faded away.

"I'm… I'm sorry?"  

Loki, peering at you, smirked.  "I said, thank you for the hideous sweater.  My brother's fiancee will hate it but she will, inevitably, appreciate the oaf's effort."

Giggling, your body temperature rose a few degrees, unable to resist Loki.  It was so easy to be around him.  It always had been.

"My lady, thank you!  Brother, I am off to find the cashier.  I shall meet you outside…"  Thor nodded your way, encouraging Loki, failing at being discreet.  

Sharing a laugh with your former lover, Loki risked taking your hand.  You didn't shrug him off.  Instead, your breath caught, frozen in the familiar feeling of his fingers.

"Hmm… you say we are strangers but your body tells another story, little one.  Do you know who I am?"

You could answer that honestly.  Loki wasn't as popular as Thor or Captain America but his name was known publicly.  His reputation was a bit tarnished, surely, but that had always been part of your attraction to him.

Finding your voice, "Yea… I do."

"Uh huh.  Then you know I am not some mortal man, held to the rules and restrictions of this planet.  You understand that I am a God.  One who makes mischief."  Dropping his voice into that silky predatory tone had made your insides go liquid.  

He was too close now, his spearmint breath fanning your face, "Yes, I know where your… skills lie."

Watching your chest heave, your want apparent, Loki licked over his bottom lip, certain he could taste phantom strawberry bubblegum and grapefruit lip gloss.  An odd, yet enticing, combination.  One his mouth knew even if his memory couldn't recall why.

"Then you know I suss out falsehoods.  It's part of the deal, dove.  To lie you must spot lies.  And you…", pressed into a wall mirror, hidden by a rack of wool pea coats, "aren't being truthful."

What could you say to that?  “I… I am too.  Like I said, You don’t know me.” Leaning into you, not touching your begging skin, but still so near, “Little liar.  I think that there might be a way to solve our problem.  Over dinner, tonight.  My treat, assuming there’s a restaurant in this town that is not part of a chain.”

“A date?  With you?” A date was not a good idea.  Too much time to talk might lead to trouble.  Either you’d say too much or, and this was possibly worse, do too much with Loki.  Could you resist his charms?  You weren’t able to the first time around. Now, knowing just how much you missed him, how lonely your nights were without him, would you be able to stop things from going too far?  What if Loki learned the truth?  That you had sacrificed your past together so that he might have a future, would he still want you then?  Could he?

Loki, seeing all these thoughts pass over your face, “Yes.  With me.” “No.”  “No?” “Yes.” “So, yes then?” “No.  Yes to the no.” “I don’t think you know what you want little mortal.  Join me for dinner tonight and I won’t bother you ever again.” Always tricky, this could be another of Loki’s pranks, ready to backfire on you at the drop of a hat.  If he kept his word, walked away after your night out, then it would be worth it. You could do one evening and not lose your head or your heart. “You won’t bother me ever again?  You promise?” That sinister smile spread over Loki’s face, lifting his sharp cheekbones in triumph, “Oh, I promise.  One date.  Tonight.”

--- Years ago, when you and Loki enjoyed the first full flush of blossoming love, dating wasn’t always possible or convenient.  With missions to go on, HYDRA cells to investigate, and near constant alien invasions of one kind or another, dinners and movies weren’t a priority.  Staying alive was the rule of the day. In the moments when relaxation was possible, you and Loki found yourselves drawn to each other.  Bonding over take out containers and warm beers in the early morning hours, sleep elusive, sitting on the counter tops.  Sharing great music, digital from you, vinyl from Loki, led to dancing on the cool tile of the rooftop patio.  Cherished books, personal poetry and moving works of art passed between you at a rate that alarmed the rest of the team.  

You favorite times?  Watching films and must see TV from the comfort of Tony’s leather couches.  Snuggled under soft blankets, touching each other gently, testing and teasing.  Letting the connection you shared grow naturally was what made it so special. Tonight though, this was different.  Loki arrived at your door in full on romantic leading man mode.  His suit was jet with a shirt and tie to match, making him look long and lethal, but undeniably sexy.  There were flowers, an affectation that nonetheless made your heart swell.  Holding your door, pulling out your chair, effortlessly making all the right moves was just Loki’s style.  Why did it make your heart ache in equal measure? Because it was so different from your first time around.  The love that led you here, to a place where no one knew you, had been so organic.  Not forced or formulaic.

“I fear I’m boring you.”  Loki’s bright eyes glittered as he swirled his fork through the rich sauce skillfully. Dabbing your mouth, “No, not at all.  I just… I…”  You were lost in remembering.  Loki was telling a story that you had lived, but where you should have been was a hole.  A gap, created when you had made your deal with the purple eyed sorceress, brought reality crashing into the conversation.  It was a distracting detail.   “Lost in your thoughts.  You do that frequently, don’t you, dove.”  Dove.  Oh god, you hadn’t heard his endearments in ages.  It made your stomach tense from need.  Being Loki’s dove had meant something to you then.  It meant more now. “My past is never far.  It creeps up on me all the time.  But I’m sure you know nothing about that.”  Deliberately leading him to talk more about himself, you let the timbre of his voice take over, listening intently to the man who once was yours. The long night was over too soon.  You had been on eggshells, carefully choosing your words, the entire time.  As much as you wanted to keep him near, you knew that one night was already a calculated risk, and it couldn’t happen again.  If Loki kept his promise, tomorrow you would be back to your routine, the missing him would still be there but so would running and the store. “Uh… thank you for the lovely dinner.  I really enjoyed it.” “I believe you used to be a better liar.” Freezing, your key in the lock, you turned to face Loki.  “What was that?”  Panic rose in your throat tasting of bile and bucatini. Leaning his shoulder against your door frame, “You heard me perfectly well.  Like I said, you were better at this once.  At least, I think you were.”

“I don’t know what you think, but I’ve… we’ve…” “Never met?  Yes, that line is familiar.  But then again, so are you.” “Loki…”  Pleading with him to drop it, to let it go, would never work.  Besides, you hadn’t been able to.

And what would happen if you did come clean?  Would the spell be reversed?  You couldn’t risk that.  Not after all that you’d already gone through to keep Loki alive. At the sound of his name on your lips, Loki stepped into your personal space.  His long finger rested over your parted mouth, effectively silencing you, as he whispered in your ear,  “No more lies.  Not tonight.”  Reaching around you, Loki turned your key, opening the door to your place.   Clicking on your lamp, the circle of light small in the shadows of your apartment, you move towards the kitchen.  “I need a drink.  Do you want one?” Nodding, “I think I might need one.”  Barking out a hard laugh, you lifted two glasses down from the rarely opened cabinet.  Tossing in ice cubes, you quickly cover them with the amber liquid of bourbon, swirling the two ingredients together as you walk back to the man pacing in your living room. “Good stuff, right?”  Ruefully chuckling at the harsh burn of the booze, you looked at your date motioning for him to take a seat on your beat up sofa next to you.  Folding himself gracefully, Loki perched on the couch, his knee just barely grazing your own.  The contact was electric, shorting out your speech center for a second, and you moaned softly.  Moving your drink to the table, Loki’s digits circled your wrist, "Now tell me, why do I know these hands?  Soft but strong, with a scar across the middle knuckle…" 

 Turning your palm down, brushing over that exact imperfection, Loki searched your eyes for answers.  "Why am I drawn to you across space and time?  You are a ghost that haunts me.  The echo of a dream that is real and warm… and here."

"Loki…"  Chin quivering, "There are things you don't know.  Things about me… about us…"

Tilting his head, studying you, "Ah.  Us.  We, that is, you and I have history, do we not?  I… I know that is true.  Yet,"  Swallowing thickly, Loki struggled to control the swell of emotion bubbling through him, "Yet, I have no memory of you.  Tell me why that is."

A wild sob ripped through you making your shoulders heave.  "I don't think I can!"

Twining his arms around you, the smell of his skin surrounding you, comforting you, "Why is that?"

Eyes brimming with tears, you murmured, "Because… it might reverse everything.  I… I don't know what would happen if I told you the truth.  All of it."

"So, dark magic then.  Strong… but perhaps not strong enough.  Not nearly capable of keeping you and I apart."  Petting your knee, savoring the nearness of Loki, you parted your thighs in anticipation of his touch. Loki, unable to resist any longer, pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.  One of his palms skated under the hem of your dress while his other hand cupped your cheek.  Tracing over your jawline with his thumb, Loki deepened the kiss, his tongue tasting you in tiny sips. Pulling away from you, “We… We were lovers.”  His voice rose at the revelation no longer concealed by magic. “Yes, Loki.”  Swallowing hard, the raw truth finally said out loud. “But you, you erased yourself from my mind… My life.  Why did you do it?  Why would you take our… happiness from me?”  It was enough to break your heart all over again.  Loki’s voice, trembling, unsure, and clearly hurting.  

Whispering more for yourself than him, "I couldn’t let you go, Loki.  I… I can't, even now.  I watched you almost die.  I won't do it again!" “And this?  This is life?  Dove.  You know better than this.” “I saved your life!”  Needing to defend yourself, you nearly bellowed in frustration, struggling to make Loki understand. Standing suddenly, Loki turned from you, “What kind of life have I had without you?” “I don’t know the answer to that…”  Rising yourself, a hand to Loki’s chest, “But my life without you… you have no idea how hard it’s been.  I dream of you every night, Loki.  And in those dreams, I don’t rescue you.  You die in my arms.  Every night, Loki.  I saved you once with the help of dark magic.  But I’ve lost you every single day since.”

Crying in earnest now, you felt Loki wrap his iron arms around you, “Hush now.  Hush, darling.  Somehow, some way, I found you again.  I’m not letting you go.” Sagging into his warmth, letting Loki comfort you, felt like home.  Without realizing, you were swaying in each other's arms, dancing to the music in your souls.  You curled your arms around Loki's waist, his solid figure reassuring, hugging him closer.

Loki's hands drifted down, cupping your bottom, squeezing your curves firmly.  "I missed you, little minx."

Giggling at his pet name for you, one you never expected to hear again, you smiled up at your dark hued God.  Standing on your toes you touched your lips to Loki's.  Anticipating your move, Loki opened his mouth, capturing yours in a kiss.

Loki's grip, tugging you tightly to his firm form, became needy.  His mouth plundered yours, taking your breath, absorbing your moan.  A hand tangled in your hair, pulling your hungry lips from his own, giving Loki unchecked access to the column of your throat.

Closing your eyes, lost in intimate sensations that were both routine and refreshing, you lost yourself in Loki.  Stepping out of his grasp, you pulled the hem of your dress up, shrugging it over your head and tossing it to the floor.  "Loki, I love you.  I never stopped loving you."

Watching your nearly nude form, Loki shared his sweet, secret smile with you.  "I love you.  And even wizardry could prevent us from finding each other."

"Please, help me remember.  Let me forget."  He knew what you were asking.  Remember what you had shared, what you could have again.  Forget this time apart, this lapse in love.

"With pleasure, little dove."

---

Your bed, usually so lonely, was suddenly too small.  Loki's long body stretched across the mattress, reaching for you, impatient to relearn the things that made you melt.  And you?  You couldn't stop touching his satin skin.

First your fingers fluttered over his thighs, up his torso, over his chest.  But that wasn't enough to satisfy.  So you followed the same trail with your mouth.  Licking lovingly over Loki's abdominals, nipping at his tiny nipples, sucking against his Adam's Apple.

Straddling Loki, his hands on your hips drag you against his rigid rod.  Feeling his driving desire made your core quiver.  When he caught your nipple in his mouth, sucking forcefully, you howled like a wild woman.

"Oh, Loki!  Ah!"  Your hands tangled in his hair, encouraging the exquisite agony of his teeth biting into your tender bud.  

With a growl, Loki flipped you to your back, settling himself between your spread thighs.  Removing your panties with a swift tug, Loki spread your lower lips, licking into your luscious folds.  His tongue thrust into you, lapping at your liquid, drinking you down.

Convulsing when Loki's tactile tongue circled your clit, your core clenched in pleasure, your release is close.  When you announce that to the man pleasuring you, Loki nips at your inner thigh, kissing his way over your mound.  "Not yet.  I'm not through with you or your bountiful body."

As his lips closed over your own, Loki shifted your hips higher, your cleft cuddling his steel length.  Teasing your entrance with his wide tower, drawing a shivery moan from you, Loki slowly sunk into your yielding sheath.  Inch by inch, Loki claimed more of you as you impatiently waited to be filled by his hard heat.

Stretched by his searing shaft, Loki bent your knees, bringing them closer to your chest.  Rocking into you, his hips pressing your legs apart, Loki enjoyed the feeling of your velvet vice gripping his with each push.  He was slow, methodically moving inside of you, taking his time.  

Your body responded with slick skin, soft sighs, melting into a mewling mess.  "Faster Loki!  Please!"

"No.  I never want to forget you again."  Loki's words sparked your internal fire.  Plunging into your pulsing pocket, picking up speed, Loki pursued your pleasure.  

You couldn't keep your hands off of him.  His neck, his shoulders, his firm bottom, the cut of his hip.  Scratching your nails over his arms, along his back, across his chest, Loki grunted in delight.  

"Cum with me, little dove."  It wasn't a command or a request.  It was a plea.

"Always, Loki!"  Locking your arms behind his neck, Loki dug his fingers into the back of your thighs, your tongues tangling together.  Panting through your pleasure together, clinging to each other, determined to hang onto the only other person who mattered, you pressed your forehead to Loki's.

That night you slept curled around Loki, deeply and uninterrupted.  Tomorrow would bring a new dawn, a new day.  And everything before today would be an echo, losing distinction over time, replaced by the new life you would build together. ---

@procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @iamverity​ @jamielea81​ @archy3001​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​ @lots-of-loki​ @mizfit2​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @jessiejunebug​

[lady-divine-writes]

31 Days of Ineffables - “Making an Effort” (Rated T)

Summary: Every morning, Aziraphale sneaks out of bed to go for a run without telling his husband.

One day, Crowley finds out. (1839 words)

Notes: Written for @drawlight’s ‘31 Days of Ineffables’ prompt ‘warmth’. Warning for talk of anxiety and self-esteem/body issues.

Read on AO3.

Slap … slap … slap … slap …

The soles of Aziraphale’s trainers hitting the wet asphalt sound exactly the way he thought they would.

Like the shoes of a fat man hitting concrete.

It’s not that difficult a thing to describe, nothing poetic about it.

He could definitely do with a break, stop into a nearby shop and warm himself up with some cocoa and conversation, but he won’t let himself. He’s committed to this. Committed to changing, to evolving, to becoming something better than he is.

Something better than he sees when he looks in the mirror.

He erases thoughts of warmth and cocoa from his mind and tries to focus on the positives of being out here … jogging … alone … in the early December gloom.

At this hour of the morning, he gets to see the glorious sunrise. It brings him closer to God, bolsters a connection he’s felt lacking as of late.

Though if that’s not entirely his fault, he won’t own up to it.

At three a.m. when he starts his fitness quest, he gets to revel in the peace and quiet that comes from London still abed.

Oh. But that reminds him that his claim to London, his claim to the world, is also still abed and asleep without him.

Crowley.

He’d rather be with Crowley.

He’d rather be in bed with Crowley, warm and toasty, sipping cocoa and watching the grey clouds pave their way across the sky from behind closed windows.

Crowley doesn’t want this.

He doesn’t know about it, but if he did, he wouldn’t want this.

But won’t he be proud of Aziraphale when he sees the change? The looser clothes, the smoother skin, the closer hugs?

Aziraphale doesn’t have to tell Crowley about his plans in order for his husband to benefit from them, so keeping him out of the loop isn’t a bad thing …

… necessarily.

Great.

Now he’s cold and tired and keeping things from his husband.

How can this morning get any better?

“Looking good, angel.”

A wolf-whistle follows those words and Aziraphale’s heart shudders.

That’s how, he guesses.

Serves him right. He could never really keep secrets from Crowley, could he?

If not, Crowley would have never walked down the aisle of that church, hopping like a drunk jack rabbit, and saved Aziraphale from getting blown to bits.

Aziraphale debates running on by, but he knows Crowley will simply miracle himself to the next bench and wait for him there. And if there isn’t a bench, he’ll snap one up.

Aziraphale slows to a stop, panting from the stress exercise takes on his human form.

“You don’t have to make fun of me.”

“Not making fun,” Crowley says, waiting for his angel to give up the stubborn attitude and come sit beside him. “I mean it. You look good. Of course, you always look good to me, particularly when you’re red in the face and working up a sweat. I just wish you’d stay in bed with me and do it proper. It’s colder than fuck out here!”

Aziraphale glances over at his husband curling in on himself and shivering dramatically in the cold – a subtle attempt to get Aziraphale to cave and sit next to him.

Which he does because dramatic or not, he hates seeing his demon shiver, knowing how thoroughly the cold seeps through his skin. With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale miracles up his own coat and slips it over Crowley’s shoulders, wrapping it around him, frowning when he sees how loosely it bunches on Crowley’s thin form.

“What in the world are you doing out here at this hour of the morning?” Aziraphale asks, as if the answer weren’t ridiculously obvious.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“I asked you first.”

Crowley watches his husband sit flush up against him, their arms touching, but from the expression on his face, he couldn’t be farther away. “Well, if you must know, it’s a sad and pathetic fact that I can no longer sleep without you.”

“Is it now?” Aziraphale says dryly.

“Yes, it is.”

“Sorry about that. But it’s easier to run in the morning.”

So I wouldn’t find out? Crowley thinks with a chuckle to himself. “And why’s that? Because that’s how the humans torture themselves, so you have to do it that way, too?”

“Because there’s less foot traffic,” Aziraphale defends. “Less chance of bumping into other runners.”

Or one runner in particular, Crowley surmises, knowing that Gabriel runs these paths on occasion for no reason Crowley can begin to comprehend.

Correction, he does comprehend it. But if he admits it, he’ll be running up the escalator to Heaven’s offices with all his might to punch himself an Archangel.

“If you’re really concerned with avoiding foot traffic, I could get you a treadmill. Or a stationary bike. Or one of those bizarre floaty contraptions that look like they’re from a sci-fi movie.”

“An elliptical?”

“Yes, an elliptical. Then you could exercise till your heart’s content in the comfort of our flat, and I’d get to sit on the sofa and ogle you all day long from behind.”

Crowley winks.

Aziraphale tuts and rolls his eyes.

“But that’s not the point, is it?” Crowley continues. “Because you’re not actually out here to improve yourself.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence,” Aziraphale grumbles. “You know, sometimes you really are a snake.”

“You’re a supernatural entity, Aziraphale. You don’t have to exercise. Not really. You’re not concerned with your heart and your blood pressure. If you wanted to look fitter, you could snap your fingers and do it. Or I could do it for you so Heaven won’t find out.” Crowley lifts a hand out of his coat cocoon for emphasis. “I’m a demon. Expert at taking things apart. One snap and …” He makes an obscene sucking noise “… instant liposuction.”

“So what am I doing, in your expert opinion?”

“You’re punishing yourself, angel,” Crowley says softly. “And you’re doing it over nothing. Over no one that matters.”

Aziraphale wiggles uncomfortably on the bench. He doesn’t move away, but that distance Crowley felt earlier begins to grow. “H-how would you know?”

“Because I know you. I’ve known you for thousands of years. I know your thoughts, your desires, your heart. And I know that the voice in your head, the one that tells you you’re soft, you’re fat, you’re a pathetic excuse for an angel – that voice doesn’t belong to you. It never has. And it doesn’t belong to me either.”

Aziraphale sniffles, digesting those words while he watches the sun rise higher in the sky, lending light and life and hope to a weary world.

And one weary angel.

“It’s … been there for such a long time,” Aziraphale only half-voices, “and I … I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

“Does waking up at the butt crack of dawn and running the soles out of a pair of shoes till your bum knee aches get rid of it?”

“For a while.”

“Is there a chance that … making love to me gets rid of it?”

Aziraphale swallows. When he answers, his voice shakes. “For a while.”

“Then why don’t we do that instead?”

“Because it’s not an easy thing to admit to.”

“I know that.”

“Really?” Aziraphale scoffs. He steals a quick, angry glance down Crowley’s trim body hiding beneath his bulky coat, but never meets his eyes. “And how’s that?”

“You don’t think I have a few voices in my head, too? They might not be your voices, they may not say the same things, but they’re bastards, I’ll tell you that.”

“How do you get rid of them?”

“By doing the things I love – driving my car, drinking, sleeping. But mostly by hanging out with you.” Crowley threads an arm through the sleeve of Aziraphale’s coat and takes his angel’s hand. “Which is part of the reason why you haven’t been able to get rid of me since the day you left Heaven and I left Hell.”

That remark coaxes a partial smile out of Aziraphale. “I’ve been wondering about that.”

“Well, now you know.” Crowley lifts Aziraphale’s hand to his mouth, kisses across his knuckles one by one. “Listen, if you wanna keep jogging, be my guest. I’ll even help you.”

Aziraphale shoots his husband a comical look. “How?”

“I’ll … I’ll … I’ll chase you all over this damned park! I’ll throw ducks at you …”

“Crowley!”

“I’ll scream that you stole my wallet till the cops come running!”

Aziraphale does his best to look appalled by his husband’s suggestion, but the laughter twitching his lips at the image it paints wins out in the end.

“But only if you’re doing it because you want to do it. Otherwise … what good does it really do you?”

Aziraphale nods. He goes back to staring while he thumbs through his options, but the thought of Crowley throwing ducks and crying out in fake distress lingers so vividly, he’s certain Crowley keeps planting it there.

“I don’t want to jog anymore,” Aziraphale says finally.

“You don’t?” Crowley asks, not even hiding his non-surprise.

“No.”

“Are you, maybe, in the mood for some crepes? I know a great breakfast spot not too far from here.”

“No,” Aziraphale says with the firm resolve of a man triumphing over demons he’s been battling for decades.

But seeing as Aziraphale married his demon, his answer becomes less convincing.

Crowley raises an eyebrow at him. Aziraphale looks resolutely away.

But he smiles, too.

“Yes, I am,” he relents. “But I think I’d like to stay like this for a while, if you don’t mind. Sitting by your side, holding your hand - I want this more.”

Crowley rests his head against his angel’s shoulder. “So do I.”

They sit in silence together and watch the sun climb into the sky.

“This is nice,” Crowley murmurs, closing his eyes to block out the bright and focus instead on the warmth on his face.

“It is,” Aziraphale concurs. Over the thousands of years they’ve spent as friends, and the months they’ve spent as lovers, this is something they’ve had yet to do. They’ve been together in the presence of the sunrise, of course. And the sunset. But sitting together and letting it command their full attention – this is a first.

“You know, maybe I was wrong,” Crowley says.

“How’s that?”

“Maybe we should get up early and do this every morning. Not the running. Just the sunrise.”

“Perhaps. It might be nicer to watch it from the balcony instead.”

“Of course, of course,” Crowley agrees, close to falling asleep. “Much less chance of encountering foot traffic up there.”

“Quite.” Aziraphale breathes in deep, then breathes out deep into the cold, crisp winter air. He should have brought a book. And a Thermos. And a snack. “Can we go get those crepes now?”

“Yup.”

“And after the crepes, can we have sex?”

Crowley grins. “Oh absolutely.”

[honkster]

Here is my take on this. I am against Technoblade's idea of anarchy. Why? Because it will be the survival of the fittest, which I define as who is the most skilled in pvp and has the most gears. That means people like Technoblade and the Dream Team would reign supreme which is just hypocritical. I think everyone forgets that the Dream team is ride or die. When you oppose Dream, you oppose Punz, Sapnap, and George. The heart of the problem is that there is power imbalance between two nations.

Survival of the fittest - or no wars.

Because so far the main conflict has been “Dream doesn’t want L’manburg to exist”. Up until then the only wars were “Someone kills someone’s pet” or “Tommy really really really wants to fight Dream”. All of these usually have minor repercusions on the server.

But ever since L'manburg, the idea of a government, was created, it has been non-stop tension between two opposing factions - L'manburg and Dream. (And I know most of this is just to make it interesting to watch and roleplay, but thinking of it as an actual book plot and critisizing the characters the same way is so much more fun)

And there is simply no peaceful way to resolve their conflict because they want different things. Dream wants L'mamburg dead. L'manburg wants to exist. Their options are eternal war or temporary peace with an unpredicatble and short-fused being.

What would anarchy do? It would erase the need for such tension. Because there wouldn't be a nation that people would lay down their lives for. There wouldn't be a nation that Dream wants to wipe off the map. No one would need to be ready to fight at a moment's notice because there is nothing to fight for anymore. No country, no nation, just you and whatever you want to build. A time of peace.

Sounds incredibly boring, sure, but then consider this...

Will Dream have enough of just having passive power over everyone?

(The most powerful people would still seek even more power and so it would become a game of kill or be killed - very interesting idea.)

But will Technoblade be okay with Dream basically establishing a brutal dictatorship, disguised as a monarchy?

I think that's two things that the Blade would dislike.

Survival of the fittest is a terrible thing when one person is able to amass loads of power through taking it from others, but it's actually quite a decent concept when it turns into a "Who is actually the best?" but between two people. The two most powerful people, who have now gained immense power and cannot be matched... Except by each other.

And then you can theorize how it would all go down - would Techno trust himself enough to go against Dream alone? Would he take the help of other people who, now left alone and allowed to actually get better stuff since no wars, can actually stand up to some of Dream's goons?

Is this all bs because Techno is way to terrified of Dream to do anything against him and would probably just fuck off to a corner of the world no civilization has touched and let Dream SMP be ravaged by a man gone mad with power?

If there is a dictator that does awful things to everyone and treats their subjects as mere puppets and is constantly on a power trip, acting in whatever way they wish and have no regard for anyone's lives...

Would there be a secret society forming underground, plotting and thinking of ways to take down the dictator and put someone actually competent and caring in the President's chair?

It's a cursed loop, I know. You can probably point out who actually makes it spin, but I'll have to agree with you anon. Maybe anarchy isn't the answer, but everything else doesn't seem to be an option either.

I'll say one thing - it is incredibly fun to watch.