#Time Travel Fix-It

[eeriepromis]

| Characters: Genderbent!Caleb & Zayne | Prompt: Chrono Rewrite | Premise: Caleb and the Love Interests traveled back in time after failing to prevent the world from becoming Philos. Caleb woke up with his body transformed into a females one. || Note: MC is called Mei.

The One Where MC Walks in at the Worst Possible Moment

Caleb was done with this.

The past was already a nightmare to navigate, time travel had screwed with his body, and to top it all off, Zayne was being a stubborn, insufferable pain in the ass.

"Zayne, I swear to God, just give it back!" Caleb growled, his voice sharper than usual - but that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that his voice was higher-pitched now, thanks to the whole "waking up in a woman’s body" situation.

Zayne, as always, remained completely unfazed, holding the stolen device high above his head like a schoolyard bully hoarding a toy. His expression was impassive, his glasses reflecting the dim light of the room, but Caleb could see the amusement lurking beneath his usual deadpan demeanor.

“No.”

Caleb’s eye twitched.

“Zayne, I’m warning you-”

Zayne tilted his head, his grip tightening around the small cylindrical device. “You’re in no position to make threats.”

Oh, that was it.

Caleb lunged.

It wasn’t his best move, considering his new center of gravity was still a pain in the ass to adjust to, but he was not going to let this arrogant doctor win.

Zayne, of course, had been expecting the attack. He sidestepped at the last second, letting Caleb’s momentum carry him forward-

Which resulted in both of them crashing into the bed behind them.

Caleb’s legs tangled awkwardly with Zayne’s, their bodies colliding, the device clattering to the side. He barely had time to curse before Zayne - the smug bastard - twisted, flipping their positions so that Caleb was pinned beneath him.

The weight of him was solid, firm, and way too damn close.

Caleb froze.

Zayne did not.

He still had one arm braced above Caleb’s head, the other gripping Caleb’s wrist to keep him from scrambling up. His face was inches away, cool breath fanning against Caleb’s cheek.

And that was the exact moment Caleb decided to make things worse.

"Give it to me!"

He bucked against Zayne’s hold, frustrated and completely unaware of how bad the phrasing was.

Zayne’s eyebrow arched.

And then-

The door swung open.

Silence.

A very long, painful silence.

Then-

“Oh.”

Both Caleb and Zayne’s heads snapped toward the door.

Standing there, holding a plate of snacks, was Mei.

She blinked. Slowly.

Took in the scene.

Zayne half on top of Caleb, pinning her to the bed. Caleb’s wrists caught, legs tangled. Caleb’s flushed, struggling expression. Zayne’s blank but dangerously close posture.

And- Caleb’s words, echoing back at her.

'Give it to me!'

Mei's lips twitched.

She tilted her head. “Am I interrupting?”

Caleb made a strangled noise.

Zayne remained as still as a corpse, likely debating whether clearing things up was even worth the effort.

Mei’s eyes gleamed.

“Oh, don’t mind me~,” she chirped, already turning back toward the door with a suspiciously amused sway in her step. “You two carry on. Have fun!”

“MEI, WAIT-”

The door slammed shut.

Caleb laid there for a solid five seconds, staring at the ceiling, absolutely mortified.

Zayne was the first to break the silence.

“…I’m not explaining that.”

Caleb let out a very, very long sigh.

“…Kill me.”

Zayne adjusted his glasses. “Not in my job description.”

Caleb groaned, wrestling himself free. He sat up, glaring at Zayne. “This is your fault.”

Zayne, completely unbothered, picked up the device and handed it to Caleb.

Caleb stared at it.

Then back at Zayne.

Zayne blinked. “You didn’t specify when I should give it to you.”

Caleb was going to kill him.

But first, he had to fix this mess with Mei.

If she hadn’t already told the entire damn city.

[corvidscreams]

Kesett Week 2024 Day 3: Time Travel Fix-it

Stopping an entire war is a big ask, but saving one ship.... that might be doable. (It might also create a whole host of new problems but let's burn that bridge when we get to it.)

[aethon-recs]

Hullo!!

Thank you for all the great tomarry fic recs you have given to us!! Your recs are always the best and I love them all..🩷🩷

Do you have any Tomarry fics where Harry somehow time travels to the past where Tom is still in his Hogwarts years ?? And Harry becomes the transfer/new student and gets sorted into Slytherin??

I hope I'm not being too specific.. honestly, just any fic where Harry and Tom both go to Hogwarts!!

Thank you🩷🩷

- rioo xxx

Hi there! Thank you for your kind words 🤍

Here's a selection of fics featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together in the 1940s.

There's 23 fics in the list below, covering 1.7 million words, so hopefully there's some fics in here you haven't come across before! Happy reading!

*

Hogwarts 1940s-era Tomarrymort Recs

A Future Without a Face by @dividawrites (E, 115k, complete)

Tom Riddle is a gifted teen with a personality disorder. He’s going to rule the world one day. Harry Potter is an extremely angry transfer student, or at least that’s what Tom believes.

And the Living Will Envy the Dead by @k-s-morgan (M, 81k, WIP)

When Harry looks at Tom, he feels overwhelmed. There is a spark that makes him hopeful, the fear that nothing he does will save Tom from himself, and the horror at what his lies might lead to. When Tom looks at Harry, he feels nothing. Until he does, and then Harry’s world starts drowning in blood.

At the end of every road by @sass-y-squatch (M, 90k, complete)

In which Harry is determined to prevent Voldemort's rise, even if he has to stalk, bribe, threaten, and marry Tom Riddle to do it.

But For You, I Did by @duplicitywrites (M, 21k, complete)

When 11-year-old Tom Riddle finally arrives at Platform 9 and ¾, he meets fifth-year Prefect Harry Evans, a Muggleborn Slytherin at the top of his year. Harry is everything that Tom wants to be—Harry knows exactly what it’s like to be special, intelligent, and have no one understand you. 

Custodarium by Tina48 (E, 73k, complete)

The war is over, and the Wizarding Britain has been slowly rising from the ashes. Harry just wishes none of it ever happened – what will he do when he’s given a chance to change the past? Was Dumbledore right about “the power he knows not” after all?

Devil's Hour by @exarite (E, 3k, complete)

Harry traveled back to Riddle's time with the intention to kill him, but it's been months and he's done nothing. Instead, night after night, Tom visits him in his bed. Harry lets him.

Embryo by @cannibalinc (NR, 28k, WIP)

While others only gossip about Grindelwald and dutifully prepare for their NEWTs, Tom is building an empire. He has painstakingly clawed his way to the top of his generation’s elite, and now he wants more—more power, more delights, more magic than has ever been explored before. That is Tom’s destiny, a King among men. No—a god. He need only rise to that which is his for the taking… if only one strange boy weren’t so determined to get in his way.

Enoument by @accipitae (M, 22k, complete)

Call if fate, call it destiny, call it getting hit by a car at five years old and flung into the past to land naked and bruised on the steps of Wool's Orphanage in 1931. Whatever it is, Harry grows up not in a cupboard under the stairs but in a small room shared with another strange boy.

Fate Granted by Flipdarkchill (M, 60k, WIP)

When a young Tom Riddle demands a friend in the middle of the night, he did not truly expect anything to happen. At least, not right away...

Game On, Your Move by @perhaps-sunlight (T, 75k, complete)

Be on guard, my Lord, writes Abraxas Malfoy, the new transfer student intends to kill you. Except Abraxas has terrible penmanship, and 'kill' and 'kiss' look awfully similar in shoddy cursive. Naturally, things escalate. A lot.

good night, darling by @purplemineralwater (E, 141k, WIP)

Harry's breath faltered. It was all so confusing... Harry had died. He had died and spoken to Death and suddenly he was standing in Hogwarts, in 1942, and the Sorting Hat had just pronounced him Slytherin.

Holly & Yew by @lovely-lotus (M, 236k, WIP)

After a bout of accidental magic when Harry is six, Vernon goes too far. When Harry wakes up, he is gravely wounded and more than fifty years in the past in another world. After some shuffling, Harry ends up at Wool's. There, he meets Tom Riddle, his mysterious roommate, eventual best friend, and the love of his life.

Infinite by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)

Harry and his twin brother Tom have the same mark. The same soulmate. Whoever their soulmate is, wherever they may be, they will go to Tom. Tom, however, has other plans.

nothing left to lose by @cindle-writes (E, 11k, complete)

Harry got to have Tom’s cock inside him anytime he wanted, but all he really wanted was Tom’s soul back inside of him.

Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra (M, 144k, WIP)

Harry’s first memory at Wool’s Orphanage is of Tom Riddle. He thinks Tom Riddle makes many exceptions for him. (He’s right.)

Promises, Promises by @mosiva (E, 72k, complete)

Harry, stuck in the past and trying to navigate Slytherin House with Tom Riddle at its head, is hit with a memory-loss spell. An unhappy accident, as the ever-friendly Tom Riddle is on hand to tell him.

Reckless Cartography by @meles-merrivale (M, 9k, WIP)

Just because someone is the love of your life doesn’t mean they’re good for you. And just because someone’s bad for you doesn’t mean you get to walk away. Featuring Harry and Tom attending Hogwarts together and slowly ruining each other’s lives.

Stab Right Through by @the-wig-is-a-metaphor (M, 82k, WIP)

Getting lost in old memories is a dangerous thing for anyone, but in Harry's case the whole situation is slightly more literal than usual, and—as it always tends to be—much, much worse.

Subjective by IceLynx (G, 1.5k, complete)

While Harry thinks Tom is extremely handsome, nobody else does. Most think Tom is rather average. Harry refuses to admit it and is forced to defend his opinion.

tautological by @cindle-writes (E, 7k, complete)

It had taken Tom quite a bit of trial and error to figure out how, but he had finally worked out how to exploit their shared horcrux connection and send Harry false visions and dreams. For a few weeks now, Harry had been waking up every morning to a rush of pleasure, soaked pajama bottoms, and Tom’s name a broken moan on his lips.

Terrible, But Great by @isalisewrites (M, 143k, WIP)

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

Vespertine by @itsevanffs (E, 24k, WIP)

Harry only blooms at night; Tom can see this much.

What Souls Are Made Of by Emeralds_and_Lilies (E, 278k, complete)

A mysterious object in Bellatrix's vault sends Harry, Ron and Hermione spinning into the past and to a Hogwarts like none they know. Posing as students, Harry catches the eye of the Head Boy, Tom Riddle, who is nothing like the Voldemort of the future. He's charming and sly and manipulative; both brilliant and deadly.

*

[atlantablack]

(please) change the prophecy

6,572 | T+ | no archive warnings apply Fingon/Maedhros

“No,” he says once more, cutting his father off. The pressure in his chest hurts. He wanted to rest but instead there’s a great, spiked ball of fury dragging itself up his throat. “If you burn those boats I will walk out there and burn with them. I’ll swear it to Eru if you don’t believe me. Damn myself to the darkness twice.” He had intended to burn anyways, may as well go out the way he’d meant to, let his death mean something this time. Let it be for something that matters. There must be something truly terrible on his face because his father visibly falters. “You would not,” his father says but his voice wavers slightly.

[hollowghostsonfilm]

[Geto/Gojo Fic] Hollow: Where The Line Breaks [1/5]

Summary:

Satoru Gojo wakes up in the body of his sixteen-year-old self, 6 months before the Star Plasma Vessel mission. He's certain its a domain. Or a curse. Or a hallucination born at the moment of his death. It can't be real. Geto is alive. Shoko is there. The dorm floorboards creak at the exact right place. He has to focus, has to work out how to break out of this domain. But hope has teeth, and Gojo has been bitten.

Haunted by a future that only he remembers, Gojo has to walk the knife's edge between redemption and madness. Because if this is real, he can't let it go the same way again.

Master List for previous chapters.

Link to AO3 or read below:

Suguru watches as Satoru reheats his coffee again. Getting Tsumiki and Megumi up and ready this morning has felt like a herculean task, and even now, the two children are dragging their feet in getting their books together.

The morning sun streams through the kitchen window and catches motes of dust in the sunlight between them. Satoru looks ethereal, even as he tiredly reaches for his coffee and hisses as he burns his mouth on it.

The tension between them ebbs and flows since what Suguru is referring to as The Disaster. He wants to talk to Satoru about it, to explain himself. How wrecked from the first time killing a human not a curse, he’d lost himself trying to feel alive. How he had made the stupid, dumb, decision to try to find that through Satoru and realised at the last moment he didn’t want their first kiss tainted by the blood on his hands, the scent of it still in his nostrils.

He wants whatever it is that’s happening between them to be more than just a tainted memory of murder and disgust, thrill-chasing and battle high.

But Satoru has withdrawn into polite silence, which is worse than endless prattle. Sometimes he still forgets himself, especially when goofing around with the children, but when it’s the two of them alone together, Satoru becomes still, quiet, reserved. Not himself.

Suguru opens the fridge and peers inside to see if they need anything. He hums. “Can you pick up milk on the way back from class?”

Satoru seems startled to be addressed and pauses blowing on the top of his drink to nod stiffly. “I won’t be back until after six though.”

“Ah. Never mind then, I’ll ask Nanami instead.”

They’ve both started their degrees now, and while Suguru’s has been mostly easy, Satoru’s has been anything but. Suguru had the benefit of at least some mainstream education before entering Jujutsu High, but Satoru has never really had to sit still in a classroom before and take notes. All his classes up until now have been in things that come naturally to him, easy to him, something he can apply himself to easily.

But Suguru can see that with formal education he’s struggling. And he hears it from Shoko and Nanami, who have become his most reliable source for how Satoru is getting on these days even if they live in the same house.

Tsumiki and Megumi continue to chatter in the lounge, but the kitchen still somehow feels silent. The breath before a scream.

“We should talk,” Suguru tries, for the fiftieth time.

“About milk?” Satoru plays dumb for a moment, before those eyes flash with irritation. “Or do you mean something else?”

It’s a warning shot and Suguru knows it. “Let’s not fight with the kids around.”

“Sure, we’re really good at not doing things,” Satoru replies, putting his coffee down and leaving the kitchen entirely.

Suguru rubs his face tiredly and texts Nanami instead.

♾️

The Fukushima disaster sets the whole country reeling, and the curses that sprout up from the fear and despair are potent and high level. Suguru swallows them down like radiation, feeling them melting him from the inside out. Satoru and Suguru aren’t even paired up for their missions anymore, spread across the country in every spare minute they can. They have to skip class just to cover ground. And with Nanami and Shoko also on alert, that leaves Megumi and Tsumiki in the hands of whatever classmate Suguru can convince to take the kids for an evening or two.

They mostly manage to scrape by, mostly manage to keep the kids happy, healthy, and fed. Megumi is showing signs of seeing the increased populations of curses, and Suguru has tried to broach it with Satoru that they need to sit it down, explain it all to him, but Satoru is resolute.

Megumi will be allowed at least a few more years before being burdened with too much knowledge about those curses. Nanami had agreed, leaving Suguru having to try to dance around the topic while Megumi looked at him with large, scared, distrustful eyes.

He can see what he can see, and he’s perceptive enough to know when adults are lying to him.

It’s a mess.

And so it is that he gets the call. There’s a village, mysterious deaths and disappearances, probably a Grade 1 curse spirit. He has to go and kill it.

Simple enough.

“I’ll be back late,” Suguru calls through the door of Satoru’s room. “Can you do dinner?”

“How late’s late?” Satoru looks up from the book he’s reading. Those dark circles have appeared beneath his eyes again.

“Probably after midnight. It’s not far, but it’s remote so I’m taking a driver.”

Satoru sighs and inclines his head. “I’ll cancel my evening classes. Stay safe.”

It’s probably said as a throw away, that final sentence, but Suguru chooses to believe that it’s a show of warmth.

“Promise I’ll be back without a scratch.”

And so he goes. Out from the warmth of the kitchen, with its cereal crumbs, and into the dark lungs of Japan’s countryside and the feeling of cursed energy that feels like grief is pouring out of it like a long, exhaled breath.

The job itself is not complex. He tracks the curse to a limestone cave, devouring it quickly and efficiently, before returning to the town. Perhaps he will actually be home in time to at least scrape together some dinner before bed?

He picks his way through the overgrown land back down to the village to report that the curse is gone, taken care of once and for all, when he catches it. The scent of blood on the wind.

Dropping into a crouch, he pauses, throwing his senses wide to see what he can catch in them. There’s no curses about, that he can be sure of. But there is a flicker of something. Two somethings. Then he hears it, the quiet sound of a choked off sob.

He pulls aside the brush and sees them. Two girls, twins, barefoot, bleeding, hiding in the bushes. Their cursed energy clings to them like a stain. Suguru hesitates, just for a moment, making sure what he’s seeing is real, before he quickly shrugs off his jacket, draping it over them both.

One weeps silently, her cheek pressed to her twin’s shoulder hard enough to bruise. The other watches him with the sharp distrust of a cornered wolf. She looks no older than eight. The sun had long since vanished, but there’s dust in the air around them, soft, grey and indifferent to the way the two girls are bleeding onto the ground.

He doesn’t think, he just reaches for them both. Like a fireman through the smoke, holding out a hand encouragingly.

“Are you going to hurt us too?” The blond girl asks, her jaw set. He can feel her cursed energy, unrefined, poised to try to strike at him.

“No,” his voice cracks as he answers her. “No, I’m here to help.”

The quieter one with her dark hair reaches out and takes his hand. Her own is grubby. Suguru sees her fingernails are broken off, bloody, like she’s crawled her way out of somewhere using only her fingertips.

“Who did this to you? The curse?” Suguru asks gently. He has to win their trust, he has to get them to come with him back to the village.

He doesn’t expect the blond girl to laugh so hard that she starts coughing. The other girl drops his hand to wrap her arms around her sister.

“No. It was them. They said we were bad luck but we didn’t mean to be.”

Suguru follows where she points. It’s towards the village.

Rage fills him in an instant. For a moment, it burns so hot that it consumes him. His expression doesn’t change, it can’t. There is no expression that could even contain everything he feels in this instance.

“They blamed us for the curses. Every time it happened. They kept us in a cage but when you came, they brought us up here. Said that you’d kill us too,” the blond one says, her voice shaking in fear.

Suguru takes each of their small hands in one of his own. “I promise, I won’t hurt you. My name is Suguru Geto. What’s yours?” His voice is calm, even. It shouldn’t be. It should be shaking with all the anger he feels in this moment.

“Nanako.”

“Mimiko.”

Suguru nods to them both. “It’s nice to meet you both. I want you to come with me. I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“If you’re lying, I’ll bite you,” Nanako says, and Suguru figures that’s fair enough.

♾️

Satoru knows he should cook, but he’s exhausted and Megumi is crabby. It’s easier just to give in. He has a child in each hand as they wind their way to the local Takoyaki shop. Megumi keeps squirming to get away, but Satoru’s grip is strong enough that he can’t succeed.

They reach the shop just before Megumi turns from hangry to full-blown rebellion. Satoru wonders what the Megumi he had known before would have thought, looking back at his younger self like this. Would he have been embarrassed? Ah, probably.

Satoru orders them whatever they want off the menu, and they end up with a mountain of Takoyaki between the two of them. Three octopus balls down, and the soft edges begin to creep back into Megumi again.

Satoru uses the toothpick to pick up his own, popping it in his mouth to chew on as he makes sure that neither kid makes a mess all over the shop’s table. He and Suguru have built something strange and quiet. Something that looks like a life from the outside, but it hasn’t felt like one since the gala. Satoru feels like he’s pretending for Megumi and Tsumiki’s sake. Or perhaps he had never really been ready to take them on in the first place. He’s growing used to Suguru always being there, and now that he’s pushed him away, he doesn’t know what to do with the absence.

It feels too much like before, even if Satoru is doing it to protect himself and them from anything further. He won’t be able to take it if Suguru tries to kiss him and backs out again. He won’t be responsible for what he does at that moment.

Tsumiki reaches for another ball. “If I eat two more, I’ll become Buddha and reach enlightenment! That’s how it works right? You get a big belly and then – BOOM!”

Satoru chokes on his food, startled from his thoughts and starting to laugh. “Yep. That’s exactly what it is. Monks are out there, meditating on mountaintops, but you can totally reach nirvana through Takoyaki. I think it’s the best way to.”

“Different paths, same destination,” Tsumiki says, closing her eyes in mock solemnity.

“Satoru will have to carry you home if you reach enlightenment and pass out,” Megumi says with his flat little voice.

“You’re just jealous that I’m spiritually advanced!”

Satoru doesn’t know where this has come from, but he suspects that they’ve overheard him and Suguru talking sometimes about work, and probably tried to link these concepts to what they do know, what they’ve seen around them.

He never really thought much about teaching them about Buddhism beyond what was obvious, but should he? Is it his job to offer spiritual guidance? He definitely feels unqualified for that.

“I’m done,” Megumi pushes away his Takoyaki boat.

“You only had four,” Satoru raises a brow.

“I’m responsible,” Megumi replies, but he’s still eyeing up the pile of Satoru’s Takoyaki like a hawk.

“Who told you that you had to be?” Satoru asks, pushing the boat back to Megumi. “Eat up.”

Megumi shakes his head. “No. I’m going to be responsible because you’re irresponsible.”

Satoru puts a hand to his chest. “Who has been feeding you these lies, Megumin?” He pretends to be hurt.

“You did use a piece of toast as a plate yesterday when you couldn’t be bothered to wash the plates,” Tsumiki pipes up. Traitor.

“That was efficiency and critical thinking!” Satoru protests, but it gains a laugh. Even Megumi lets out a little huff that could be interpreted as one, and tucks back into his food.

Satoru smiles and leans back against his chair. He picks up his water as he opens his phone and scrolls down to Suguru’s name. He’s on a mission but…

Suguru snaps a quick picture of Megumi and Tsumiki, their fingers smeared with mayonnaise and sauce, tucking into their food.

Children fed. Megumi’s being the responsible one again. I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge.

He puts his phone back down on the table. He doesn’t expect an immediate response.

“You want the last one?” Tsumiki asks, holding the Takoyaki ball up to Satoru, who shakes his head. He’s got enough on his plate. Figuratively and literally.

Megumi is eyeing it up though, and Tsumiki seems to notice. She holds it out to him, and after a moment, Megumi takes it. “’nks.”

“What a good girl, sharing your food!” Satoru praises her, putting his hand on Tsumiki’s head. “Makes your fake-papa so proud!”

“Don’t call yourself that,” Megumi’s voice cuts through the air like a knife.

Satoru doesn’t let his expression drop, keeping his smile in place. No matter how Megumi attacks, Satoru knows he can’t show that it gets to him. He has to keep approaching him with kindness.

“Don’t worry, Satoru. Megumi’s just working on having no earthly attachments,” Tsumiki says, nodding sagely.

Satoru snorts and the moment passes.

His text message still goes unanswered.

♾️

It isn’t so much a room as a storage unit, but Suguru doesn’t know where else to take them. He’d had to shake off his handler at the village, hide the girls from him, and get a taxi instead back to the metropolitan area. The safe house is one he’s used once, for a mission, but this isn’t a permanent solution. He doesn’t even know if there is one. There’s a layer of dust on everything, the place hasn’t been used in over a year or more.

Perfect.

He pushes them towards the bathroom and draws them both a bath. They watch him like he’s going to drown them, so he steps out with directions that they need to be clean so he can look at where they’ve been hurt.

He makes up a bed of old futons, the sheets are musty but clean. Once it’s ready, he gets three glasses of fresh water, and pulls the bento boxes he’d grabbed at a local conbini out to put on the table.

The girls reappear shortly after, dressed in their ragged clothes. He doesn’t have anything else for them to wear. He is covered in their blood too, from where it oozed from unseen wounds as he carried them up the stairs.

He dresses their wounds while they are distracted by their food. They wolf it down like they haven’t eaten in days, before they crawl into the same futon together and fall asleep.

He calls Shoko immediately, giving her the address.

“Suguru, it’s 3am. What are you doing at a safe house at 3am?” Shoko had grumbled, but she still arrived an hour later, bags under her eyes and a cigarette hanging from her hand.

She checks over the girls while they sleep, her hands deft, but something in her expression brittle.

“You should have taken them to the school,” Shoko says.

“We didn’t take Megumi to the school,” Suguru points out. “I don’t want them to suffer further.”

The Fushiguros got their second chance, why shouldn’t these two?

“This isn’t protection. This is hiding,” Shoko sounds tired. “You know that right?”

“If I don’t protect them, then I’m no better than the people who hurt them. If Megumi is given the grace of having a childhood, why can’t they?”

“I can’t fault that logic but… Megumi has issues, sure. He was abandoned. This is… This is a different level, Suguru. This is too much for you and Satoru to handle,” she points out. “Twenty years old and four kids to look after? Plus, studies and a full-time job? These kids are going to need therapy, medical visits, not to mention support for their abilities…”

Suguru clenches his fists. “I know, all right. I know it’ll be hard. But it was either take them in or destroy that whole village, and I think in the circumstances, I made the right call.”

Shoko regards him carefully, lips pursed. “I should call Satoru.”

“Don’t,” Suguru stops her, putting up a hand. “No, not until… Just…”

“Even if you’re not talking right now, this isn’t something you can keep from him Suguru. What are you going to do, have a secret second family?” Shoko gives him a look.

“Don’t talk about us like we’re some married couple and I’m cheating,” Suguru folds his arms. “You know it’s more complicated than that.”

“Doesn’t have to be,” Shoko stands up. “You should trust Satoru like he trusted you.”

♾️

Suguru leaves the girls with Shoko, for lack of anything else to do. Shoko estimates they are about seven or eight, though malnutrition has made it harder for her to tell. They might be older. She promises him that she’ll make sure they’re looked after but that he has to leave, he has to go to sleep, and he has to tackle this with a clear head.

So he returns home just before sunrise, stumbling as he pulls his boots off. He accidentally smears blood against the door as he catches himself and closes his eyes for a moment, knowing he’s going to have to wipe that away before Megumi and Tsumiki wake up in a few hours for school.

He hears Satoru’s footsteps approaching and he turns, not hiding the bone deep exhaustion he feels through every part of him.

Satoru is backlit with the light from the television, sending a blue glow through his hair that matches his eyes. He’s dressed in loungewear, sweatpants slung low enough on his hips that hip bones poke out between his sweater and his top. His expression is guarded.

“What happened?” Satoru asks, voice quiet so as not to wake anyone else.

Suguru’s throat closes over. “It took longer than expected.”

He’s becoming as evasive as Satoru.

But Satoru doesn’t press the issue. He walks forward, feet light on the floor, and up close Suguru can see that he looks exhausted as well. But he still stayed up and waited to make sure Suguru came home okay.

Satoru reaches forward, and his fingers brush against Suguru’s collar before dropping to his side as though burned. “You’ve got blood on your collar.”

The space between them feels loud, but Suguru can’t breach it. Satoru is keeping things from him, he knows that. He’s known that for years, when he catches Satoru watching him avidly, like he’s to be studied. Perhaps this is just one thing that he doesn’t have to tell Satoru? One thing that he keeps to himself.

At least until he’s figured out what, precisely, he is going to do with the girls.

“Leave your clothes outside your door. I’ll make sure they go in the wash and clean down the genkan,” Satoru says after the silence has stretched.

As Suguru nods, brushing past him, their knuckles catch, a quiet stutter of skin on skin. Neither of them flinch, but neither of them hold on either.

No, he can’t bring the girls here. Not into this situation, where the tension and uncertainty hangs between the adults in their lives like a threat. Megumi and Tsumiki are already here, that’s already done, but he won’t subject Nanako and Mimiko to any more instability. He won’t subject either sets of children to the uncertainty of each other either.

He’ll work something out for them. He’ll have to.

[aravenlovesfanfiction]

<- prev [star wars fic] next ->

Masterpost

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 1

When he woke up, the only thing he could feel was pain. He wondered for a moment about what was happening, but threw that thought aside when he registered that he was hanging upside down. And like that, he knew exactly where he was.

“Forget it!” yelled the voice of his childhood nightmares, “Get me my sword!”

“But, sir! He’s-he’s a kid!”

“Get me my damn sword!”

Luffy didn’t remember blacking out, but he must’ve if this was when he’d ended up. Either that or he had actually died for a minute when he was a kid. Huh. Don’t tell Chopper.

He’d grown used to blood and injuries and everything accompanying them a while ago out of necessity. The threat of death was a looming presence since his childhood, but he’d never feared it. There was nothing to fear, he thought, and it was pointless to fear an eventuality. Being trapped, however, was one of the things he hated the most. Being tied up, helpless and at the mercy of his captors, was something he’d not experienced since he was seven. And now, he was right back where he started.

And, exactly as he remembered, the wall directly behind him shattered inwards, throwing splinters everywhere. He couldn’t stop his smile as his brothers - both so small, but bigger than him, and not yet his - came to his rescue.

Sabo made quick work of the rope that was hanging him from the ceiling, catching him just before he hit the ground. Ace stood with his back to them, keeping them as blocked from view as his four-foot-tall body could manage. Luffy cried at the sight of his brothers, fully planning on shifting the blame to his injuries.

“Damnit, Ace, c’mon! Let’s go!” Sabo yelled.

Ace didn’t so much as twitch, not allowing any of his enemies out of his sight. “I never run from a fight.”

Sabo scowled, “Ace!” His eyes shifted between Ace and Luffy a few times before he let Luffy fall to the floor so that he could stand up. “You stay here!”

The two ten-year-olds made quick work of the washed up pirates, leaving them all unconscious and sporting more than a few broken bones between them.

Luffy hadn’t realised the full extent of his grief until just then. His brothers, both dead in his own time, were here. He was with them again. They were both alive!

And they were both scolding him in the middle of the forest while he cried.

“That’s a nasty habit you’ve got, Ace,” Sabo said as he finished wrapping some stolen bandages around Luffy’s head.

Ace ignored him, weighing his pipe - repaired with some tape from the Grey Terminal - in his hands, “It just doesn’t feel right.”

Just like last time, Luffy couldn’t stop his tears, despite his best efforts. He just couldn’t help it! Ace had died in his arms four years ago now, and Sabo had been killed feet away from him a year ago! The two of them being here was as overwhelming as it was gratifying. He will save them both this time, come Hell or high waters.

“Quit cryin’!” Ace yelled as he jumped off the boulder he’d been sitting on, “I hate cry babies.”

Sniffling, Luffy managed to slow his tears, but he couldn’t completely stop them. “I’m not a crybaby.”

Sabo barked a short disbelieving laugh while Ace said, “Yes, you are!”

“Yeah?” Luffy challenged, falling easily into the rhythm of arguing with his brother, “You ever been punched with a spiked glove?!”

The two older boys flinched back. “He’s just being thankful,” Sabo said to his friend, “Give him a break.”

Ace just scoffed and turned away. “Why didn’t you tell them where we hid the money? It woulda save ya a lot of trouble.”

“I thought that if I told them, you wouldn’t wanna be my friend,” his voice cracked. Ace had been in his life for so long… He’d do everything he could to keep him in it this time. Even if that did mean repeating the same adventures.

A look of surprise flashed across Ace’s face. “Why would you wanna be my friend anyway? I gave you such a hard time. Why follow me?”

He was almost hesitant as he said, “Because there’s no one else.” He didn’t meet their eyes. “I can’t go back to Foosha Village, and I hate mountain bandits! If I didn’t follow you, then I woulda been all alone.” He looked up, directly into the boys’ eyes as he finished, “And being alone hurts worse than being hurt!”

Ace folded his arms over his chest. “What about your parents?”

“Gramps is all I have.”

“It’s easier for you when I’m around?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it hard without me?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. “Do you want me to live?”

Luffy took full offence to the doubt he could hear in Ace’s voice. With every last bit of conviction that he could manage, he looked into the older boy’s eyes and stated, “Of course I do!” He dared either of them to challenge his resolve.

“Okay,” Ace breathed, turning away, “But I don’t like spoiled brats like you.”

Luffy denied the accusation, butting heads with Ace. He was so lost in the useless, familiar, argument that he could almost forget he’d held this very same boy - man - as he died. He could almost forget that he wasn’t actually seven.

“This is great and all,” Sabo interrupted, “But I’ve got a real problem here.” When Luffy and Ace turned to look at him, he continued, “Where am I supposed to live? Bluejam’s gonna have goons crawling all over Middle Forest and Gray Terminal looking for us. What if I get attacked in my sleep?”

The three stood in thought for a few minutes before Luffy suggested that Sabo come live with him and Ace. They shared a grin before racing towards the run-down hut.

It was easy to sneak Sabo into their room. And, when Ace and Sabo had fallen asleep, he checked the ribbon of his hat. When he couldn’t find the little piece of paper he’d been expecting to feel, he panicked a bit, shooting to sit up and searching frantically. Just as the doom of Plan B started to set in, he found a little piece of paper, two strings of numbers written on it. Quickly, he folded it back up and hid it under the seam he’d found it in. Then, he fell asleep, he not-yet brothers on either side of him.

When he woke up, the only thing he could feel was pain. He wondered for a moment about what was happening, but threw that thought aside when he registered that he was hanging upside down. And like that, he knew exactly where he was.

***

It was surreal to wake up between his brothers again. He laid awake for an hour, just relishing in the feeling of being with them again. Then, the door opened and he slammed his eyes shut.

Dadan stopped in the doorway, blocking most of the light from coming into the room. “One, two, three,” she counted, “Huh?” This happened several more times and Luffy found himself struggling to not giggle. “Ace, Luffy,” she listed, “Huh?” Finally seeming to register the extra boy in the room, she screeched, “Ace! Luffy! Who is this?!”

Luffy sat up first, playing up the groggy feeling of just waking up. “Huh? Who’s who?” Then, he fell back to pretend to sleep again.

Next was Ace. “You’re too loud!” He groaned, turning over.

Sabo sat up and yawned. After a moment, he stood up completely, kicking Luffy and Ace in the process. “I’m Sabo!” he greeted.

“‘Sabo’, huh?” Dadan raised an eyebrow, “You’re the brat Ace talked about.”

“Ace talked about me?”

“He told me you’re a pain in the ass.”

A giggle. “He told me that you’re an old hag!” There was a bright smile on his face as he spoke. “A real man among men!”

“I’m a woman!”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “Well, you knowing about me makes this easier.” He grabbed her hand to shake it before she could so much as blink. “Thank you for taking care of me from today on!”

She ripped her hand back. “Who said you could stay here?!”

Instead of answering her verbally, Sabo farted. Luffy giggled.

“Don’t answer with a fart!”

Ignoring her shouts, the three ran from the building and into the forest. They could tell that it was going to be a great day.

Before they got too far past the treeline, Sabo turned back and yelled, “Oh, yeah! Dadan! We got a bit mixed up with Bluejam’s crew, so they might come ‘round here!”

***

It was a good few days for Luffy. Spending time with his not-yet brothers had all but pushed the last two years out of his focus for the time being. And, before he knew it, the end of the first week in the past had crept up, and with it came a visit from Makino and Mayor Woop Slap. He was so happy, in fact, that he forgot about his grandfather’s inclination for surprise visits.

“What did I tell you about spouting that pirate nonsense?” Ace and Luffy froze when they heard the voice behind them. “I told you two that you’re going to be great Marines!”

Luffy thought it was absolutely unfair that Gramps was using haki to hit him!

Garp turned his attention to Sabo. “Did you say something about being a pirate, too, squirt?”

Before Sabo could deny it, Luffy bounced up from the floor and shouted, “He’s not a squirt! He’s Sabo! And we agreed that we’re gonna set sail and become pirates!”

There was a dangerous look in Garps eye. “Oh?” Then, he hit Sabo in the head, oot. “I’m not gonna let any of you become pirates!”

As fast as they could, Ace, Sabo, and Luffy booked it from the bandit hut, their grandfather hot on their trail.

After an hour, the three boys finally lost Garp. They collapsed onto each other under the roots of a tall tree, cold but comfortable. Luffy hadn’t felt this warm in a while.

***

Waking up with two other people for the second morning in a row was an…experience. For his whole life, Sabo had only ever slept and woke up alone. He found that, strangely, he didn't mind waking up with other people, so long as those other people were these two.

The cave they'd slept in was bright and warm and comfortable and smelled like rain. He loved it.

He didn't know how long it would take for Ace and the kid to wake up, so Sabo crawled out from the roof cove they'd holes up in for the night and took a moment to figure out where in the jungle they'd ended up in.

The clearing the root cave was facing was fairly small, though it was big enough to safely have a large fire in the middle, and was surrounded on all sides by small - though they were huge compared to pretty much everywhere else in the East Blue - trees. The smell of sea water was stronger than up with the bandits, so they were likely by the shore or a cliff, though not close enough for it to actually matter.

The tree they’d slept under was huge. At least twice the size of the others around it.

Sabo grinned, an idea coming to mind. So, he grabbed a piece of bark that had been torn off a tree at some point, a twig big enough to work as a pen, and sat down next to some mud.

Ace and Luffy woke up at nearly the same time about an hour after Sabo had. Crawling out from under the roots together, they were quick to spot and join the blond boy.

“What’s that?” Luffy asked.

“Our secret base!” Sabo presented proudly, turning the bark around to show off his crude mud blueprints.

Ace matched his grin, though his was slightly more manic. “Well, what are we waiting for? This thing ain’t gonna build itself!”

It took a little over a week of near non-stop building for their treehouse to be constructed. The only breaks they took were to hunt and eat, sleep, and search for good building materials in the Gray Terminal and Middle Forest.

The treehouse wrapped halfway around the trunk of the tree, leaving about a foot of space between the planks and the trunk (It was very hard to pull off, but Sabo said that they’d choke the tree if they built it any closer). They hung a rope ladder out of a trapdoor in the floor, long enough that it touched the forest floor. There was another ladder carved directly into the tree that led to a crow’s nest that peaked out of the canopy the house was hidden in. And at the very top was a black flag with the painted letters ASL flying in the wind.

This was their home, their forest, their island. Nothing was taking that away now that their flag was protecting it.

“It’s beautiful,” Sabo said, leaning against the railing of the crow’s nest and staring out at the ocean.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed. He missed the ocean.

“Luffy!” Ace called, startling him, “Man the sails!”

Luffy grinned, pushing down the part of him that wanted to scold his brother because I’m the captain. “Aye!”

Ace turned to Sabo, “Sabo, take our, um, heading!”

“Right!”

Playing together was probably nothing like sailing for real, but it was good practice for when they actually set sail.

“I want this to last forever,” Luffy said. Ace wasn’t contemplating his existence, Sabo wasn’t looking over his shoulder for shadows that were slowly creeping up, and Luffy was thrown back to when his brothers were still alive and everything was perfect.

“It won’t be able to,” Sabo said, “We’re all gonna set out and be pirates, right? If we do, then we won’t be able to play like this.”

Luffy sighed, turning over to let himself fall asleep, “I know. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hope.”

The two ten-year-olds shared a look over the sleeping seven-year-old before they covered him with a blanket and scrambled up to the crow’s nest.

“There’s something up with him,” Ace whispered, “But what?”

Sabo ruffled his hair in frustration, his hat down with Luffy’s, “I don’t know.”

“He looks so���lonely when he thinks we’re not looking.” Ace grumbled, “Why does he look like that?”

Sabo hummed, “He said hat Gramps is all he has,”

“But that’s not true! He’s got Makino and whoever that Shanks guy is.”

“Yeah. He’s definitely hiding something.”

“But what is it?”

A beat. “I saw him take a piece of paper out of his hat one time.”

“What?”

“It had numbers on it.”

“So?”

“So, it might be a den-den number!”

“What’s a den-den?”

“Uh… Doesn’t matter-”

“Is it that dead snail thing we found a while back?”

“Yes-”

“There are more of those things?!”

“Yes! Now would you shut up and listen?” Sabo waited a moment before huffing. “If that is a den-den number, then there’s probably someone who has the connecting line. That means he has someone other than Gramps. Someone who isn’t here but is clearly waiting for him.”

Ace’s expression went blank. Luffy lied to them? Why would he lie about not having anyone? To be their friend? Pathetic. He climbed down to the main base, ready to kick Luffy awake and give him a piece of his mind, but he stopped himself short.

“Ace!” Sabo hissed, fully prepared to have to drag Ace off of Luffy. He stopped beside Ace, looking to see what had stopped him. “What- Why’s he crying?”

“I don’t know.”

“He was so happy earlier. Why’s he crying?”

“I don’t know, Sabo.”

Part 3

[khrysopoeia]

Snippet of a time travel fix-it, but the "it" is Riza's childhood and the "fix" is 21yo Edward Elric

It was a breezy autumn evening in West City, cool but not cold, and except for one drunk loudly complaining about the final episode of his favorite radio serial, the locals seemed to be in a good mood.

Edward Elric was not in a good mood. Edward Elric was not in a good mood because, up until about an hour ago, it had been 9AM on a spring morning and he had been in Central. He was supposed to be done with this reality bending shit. He'd tried for a solid half-hour to convince himself that this wasn't what it looked like. Maybe he'd been transported through space, but not time. Maybe the mass of interlocking arrays he'd been examining had created some sort of illusion. Hell, maybe it had created a hallucinogine. He'd gone with that explanation for a while, because it was a lot less stressful than thinking he'd gone insane. More of a five-alarm fire as opposed to an artillery bombardment.

But it had been, according to the clocktower on the edge of the park, an hour since Ed had first sat down on this bench in a daze, and nothing weird had happened. A couple of people had asked if he was okay. A kid had nearly hit him in the head with a ball, and a pigeon had take a crap on a statue of some blowhard a few Fuhrers back, which Ed appreciated. Nothing hallucination-worthy. Maybe this was real. He'd gotten a good look at the web of arrays, even if it had been brief. Some kind of reality bending fuckery… he hated to admit it, but it wasn't out of the question. Which meant that he'd lost months.

"Sir? Are you alright?" asked a voice. Ed looked up to find man in a police uniform looking down at him. "The park is closing soon, and you'll need to leave."

"My wife is going to kill me," he muttered.

"Sir?"

"Nothing. Look, could you point me to the nearest phone booth?" Ed needed to call Winry now. She wouldn't know what had happened to him. Hell, she probably thought he was dead.

The policeman gave him an intersection and then, when he realized Ed wasn't local, directions. Ed set off.

Half a block later he stopped at a newstand, pulling out a handful of cenz in case the vendor was one of those jerks who wouldn't let you even look at the papers without paying. He needed to know the date.

The bills were crisp new ones with Fuhrer Walter Gruman's face next on them. He'd insisted Mustang pay him in cash for the consulation. And they were completely useless, because the date on the paper was September twelfth, 1897.

[cross-d-a]

archiveofourown.org

Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian, Jango Fett: Open Seasons, Star Wars: Rebels

Chapter: 1/10

Rating: Explicit

Category: M/M

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships: Din Djarin/Ezra Bridger/Jaster Mereel/Luke Skywalker; Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger/Din Djarin, Ezra Bridger/Luke Skywalker, Jaster Mereel/Luke Skywalker, Din Djarin/Jaster Mereel, Ezra Bridger/Jaster Mereel

Characters: Luke Skywalker, Ezra Bridger, Din Djarin, Jaster Mereel, Grogu, Jango Fett, Arla Fett, Shmi Skywalker, Xanatos du Crion, Darth Maul, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Dooku, Kelleran Beq, Qui-Gon Jinn

Additional Tags: Crack Treated Seriously, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Mand'alor Din Djarin, Mand'alor Jaster Mereel, Oblivious Luke Skywalker, Misunderstandings, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Angry Pining, Jealous Luke Skywalker, Protective Din Djarin, Ezra Bridger is a Little Shit, Soft Jaster Mereel, Jaster Mereel Lives, Arla Fett Lives, Mandalorian Civil War | Death Watch vs. Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians, Angst, Fluff, Humor, Luke doesn't realize Ezra is SO fucking head over heels or him, Luke just thinks Ezra wants to FIGHT him Tatooine-style, the great thing about these three is that they have No Idea what the Fuck happened before the Empire, mentions of Ezra Bridger and Thrawn's Space Adventures, both Luke and Ezra may have a bit of a daddy kink, Luke Ezra and Din share One braincell and that braincell in Grogu

Summary:

Luke has enough on his plate, what with building a New Jedi Order, figuring out the dynamics of siblinghood, trying to ignore how desperately in love he is with the new Mand'alor and also trying to deal with this new asshole Jedi who just appeared out of karking nowhere. He doesn't need to add time travel on top of all that. Luckily for him, he doesn't realize he time traveled.

Unluckily for Jaster Mereel, he's suddenly about to fall in love with the three biggest idiots in the galaxy.

[carelessmirel]

Figuring out Dazai Osamu - unposted fic scene

“In normal circumstances I could probably figure his plans out”, Ranpo said and then added, glancing at Chuuya. “I definitely could, but with Fyodor and a third player in the equation... Dazai's way too unpredictable. Situation is way too unpredictable.”

“Well, he's not that unpredictable”, Chuuya said, not noticing or rather pretending not to notice Ranpo's choice of words. “At least not when you were partners for four years.”

“Or when you share the same trauma”, Akiko chuckled. “Trauma response doesn't really go away, unless you do something about it. Dazai didn’t.”

“Mori is... a topic for a different discussion”, Chuuya sighed. “Let's stick to Dazai now. My memories might be a bit rusty and he, well, he did change, but…”

“But he has a tendency to fall back on old plans when situation is really dire”, Akiko interrupted. “They're more efficient, even if much less pleasant. So, you can predict his actions.”

“Short-term.” Chuuya shrugged. “Global plans are for him and you, detective.”

“I can figure out his plans, basing on your assumptions…” Ranpo muttered. “But what if…”

“If he thinks we know how he would act, he could change his ways. Or he could think we would think that he’ll use “ADA” plans and change again. Double negative... But here’s the funny thing”, Akiko smiled at Ranpo. “It doesn’t matter. If he falls back onto Mafia ways - Chuuya knows those. If he plays it ADA-like, then you know.”

“And Fyodor imitates Dazai at the moment”, Chuuya added. “Fucking mirroring masterminds.” And then his phone ringed as a message appeared.

“Well,” Chuuya said after a long pause. Akiko checked the message herself and started silently laughing. “We don’t have to worry about Fyodor anymore. Atsushi ate him.”

______________________________

It's a bit from unposted fanfic and you can kinda tell that Chuuya and Akiko don't act quite like themselves. And Atsushi too. Because it's a time travel fix-it XD

(Chuuya not calling Mori "Boss" was the biggest clue)

All three of them are actually playing it for the audience, Ranpo figured they’re time-travelers in like… the first five minutes Akiko&Chuuya talked to each other, bc their dynamic shifted too much - Akiko and Chuuya alone are great actors, but together? Way too comfortable around each other. Why didn’t Dazai? He hasn’t seen them interact at this point. Also…

Akiko: Why did Ranpo figure out we’re time travelers so fast, but Dazai didn’t? They are on par, intelligence wise.

Chuuya: Dazai’s mostly blind on his right eye and often identifies ppl by touch. Also, I interacted with him alone, it’s really easy to fake “me” with him.

Ranpo: ...And you called Akiko, well, Akiko and not “That Agency doctor”. And "Mori too.

Chuuya: damn.

[wangxianficrecs]

🔒 Drag Me Into Your Coffin (I Will Drag Your Sins Into The Light) by the5leggedCricket

🔒 Drag Me Into Your Coffin (I Will Drag Your Sins Into the Light)

by the5leggedCricket

G, 2k, Wangxian

Summary: During the events in the GuanYin Temple, Jin GuangYao tries to drag Lan XiChen into death with him. When Lan XiChen next opens his eyes, he is faced with a—very alive—Jin GuangYao in Koi Tower, and a Jin ZiXun who is trying to force alcohol down his throat. Lan XiChen has a choice: smile and comply or take a stand once and for all—while still smiling, naturally. AKA: Lan XiChen goes Off™ Kay's comments: This story was so much fun! Lan Xichen basically travelled back in time from Guanyin Temple, so he was in an emotionally fraught place and ready to Go Off™ and it was absolutely beautiful to read him shredding the Jins to pieces. Excerpt: Jin ZiXun was speaking again. “The Jin Sect and the Lan Sect have always been like one family. We’re all the same. My two Lan brothers, if you don’t drink this, you’d be looking down on me!” Lan XiChen liked to think himself mild-mannered. All his life he’d tried to live by the rules, thinking discipline and self-control would keep him from making the same mistakes his father had made. But looking at Jin GuangYao, he realized he’d been so wrong. A sudden fury overtook him. His smile, still on his face even after dying, hardened. “Are you not looking down on us?” A hush fell over the room. “You say we are like family. Yet you dare ask us to discard our principles, the very foundations of the Lan Sect, to satisfy your pride.” “Arrogance is forbidden,” WangJi helpfully added. Lan XiChen had not expected him to be sitting here at his side. The last time he had seen him, WangJi had been on the other side of the coffin, one hand reaching for him, naked desperation on his face. Now, his face was carefully neutral. He looked so much younger, happier, free of the burden of decade-long sorrow. Sorrow that Lan XiChen had helped put there. He'd made so many mistakes.

pov lan xichen, canon divergence, time travel, time travel fix-it, time travelling lan xichen, bamf lan xichen, everybody lives, good sibling lan xichen, good person lan xichen

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[eeriepromis]

CHRONO REWRITE

Time-Travel (Fix-It) | Found Family Feels | Regret & Redemption Arcs | Enemies to Allies to ... | Partners in Crime | Genderbent!Caleb | Mortal!Xavier | UnsteadyHands!Zayne | SirenVoiceless!Rafayel | Coreless!Sylus The five Love Interests sacrificed everything to turn back time and save the world - but for Caleb, that meant waking up in the past trapped in a woman’s body, stuck between rewriting fate, stopping Ever, and learning how to fight without tripping over his new center of gravity.

Humanity had fallen, the stars had burned out, and the world they fought for was nothing but ruins. Ever had won in ways no one had expected. The planet was past saving, and time had run out.

But Xavier had a plan. The Backtrackers’ final mission: a high-risk temporal jump into the past - back before everything spiraled into destruction. Back when MC was still alive. Back when Ever was still weak enough to be stopped. But time travel wasn’t free. Each of them had to sacrifice something to make the jump. And Caleb… Caleb lost his male body. Instead, he was trapped in a genderbent version of himself. And he wasn’t the only one. Standing across from him were the four other men he got to know and fought alongside against Ever, and each wearing the same haunted expression. Each of them had retained their memories of the doomed future. Each of them had made a sacrifice. Now, they had one last chance to change everything. To rewrite fate. To keep her alive. …If only Caleb could get through a fight without tripping over his new center of gravity. And as if fixing the past wasn’t hard enough, now he had to do it while figuring out how bras work, avoiding weird stares, and trying not to punch the first person who called him "missy." The universe really wasn’t pulling its punches this time.

The Sacrifices They Made

Caleb – The Soldier Who Became a Stranger

Sacrifice: His Body (Now Female!) What It Changes: Caleb remembers everything, but his body is no longer his own. His strength, reach, and muscle memory are all wrong. He struggles in combat, miscalculates strikes, and hates the way people perceive him differently. He refuses to let the change slow him down - but it does. More than that, Caleb has always relied on brute force - now he has to fight smarter, not harder. And he has no patience for the first person who tries to “mansplain” something to him.

Xavier – The Immortal Who Became Mortal

Sacrifice: His Extended Lifespan What It Changes: Xavier was hundreds of years old, but now, he will age and die like everyone else. In the original timeline, he had time to plan, to maneuver, to learn. Now? He has one shot. One lifetime. No second chances. He feels time creeping up on him for the first time ever - every moment with MC, with the others, feels fragile in a way he never understood before. For someone who always saw the world in centuries, this is a devastating shift.

Zayne – The Surgeon Who Can No Longer Hold a Scalpel

Sacrifice: His Steady Hands What It Changes: In the original timeline, Zayne was the only one who could treat MC’s worsening condition. Now? His hands shake. Not constantly, but enough. Enough that he can no longer perform surgery. He tries to compensate with medication, treatment, prevention, but he knows the moment MC needs life-saving intervention, he won’t be able to do it himself. It’s crippling. He spent his entire career preparing to save her - and now he can only watch and hope. It’s ironic, really. In the last timeline, he couldn’t save her in time. And in this one, he won’t even get the chance to try.

Rafayel – The Siren Who Lost His Voice

Sacrifice: His Siren’s Singing What It Changes: His voice was once a weapon, an art, and a connection to his people. Now, it’s just a voice. He can no longer lure, calm, or influence others with his song. He is just another Lemurian exile, no different from the rest. Music was his escape - a way to process his emotions without words. Now? It feels hollow. He can still paint, still create, but his melodies, his harmonies, the songs he wove through his very soul - are gone. For the first time in his life, the world is truly silent.

Sylus – The Beast Who Can No Longer See

Sacrifice: His Aether Core Eye (The Ability to Read People’s Deepest Desires) What It Changes: Before, Sylus’s left eye saw more than just the physical world - it saw through people. He could look at someone and know what they craved, what they feared, what they would kill for. Now? He’s blind to it. He can still read people the way a skilled manipulator does, but it’s not the absolute insight he once had. And the worst part? He feels vulnerable. For someone who always played the game three steps ahead, this is a serious handicap. He still knows how to manipulate, how to calculate, but now, for the first time in his life - he has to guess. And Sylus hates guessing.

[blog-for-water]

“It’s for your own good, too.”

Time Travel Fix-It AU oneshot.

Dave will be referred to as William.

Inspirations:

A Second Chance by Paperpage.

GayMurderSalad Bakersfield Part 1.

GayMurderSalad Bakersfield Part 2.

This is also inspired by that one scene in the FNaF movie where Vanessa threatens to shoot Mike.

I love moments like this.

Also this is my first time posting something like this on Tumblr plz don’t throw tomatoes at me if this is bad or if I got the characters’s personalities wrong. 💔

And this is cross-posted from Wattpad to here.

Jack couldn't help but raise his voice at his purple coworker, who just pushed him against the dumpster behind the shitty diner they work at.

"H-Hey! The fuck, man?" He shouted a little too loudly for comfort. "What's your problem?!"

"My problem? I'll tell ya my fuckin' problem, Jack." William said, walking up to his confused and, rightfully so, pissed coworker. "Your lil sister, I don't want her anywhere near here."

All of Jack's anger dissipated, replaced with a sort of unfamiliar, dread-like feeling in his stomach. "...What?"

"Her birthday's in a few days, right?" William asked. "I don't want her anywhere near here. I don't want her birthday bein' hosted here. It can be celebrated anywhere but in this goddamned shit-hole we call a diner."

"...And I'd prefer it if you don't come here on that day, too." The man added.

"What?" Jack repeated. "What the hell are you talking about? Are you gonna do something? Dude, tell me what the fuck is going on—"

"Jack, please..." William's tone of voice went from firm to something a little softer, and dare I say, vulnerable? "It ain't safe for her here. Never has been and never will be. Somethin' bad's gonna happen to her if you don't listen."

"Fuckin' trust me on this, Jack." He put his hands on Jack's shoulders, shaking him a little. "I know I can't control every single thing that ya do in your life, but I'm bein' completely serious... You'll hate yourself after what'll happen."

Jack would've taken a step back if he wasn't already backed up against the dumpster. "What the fuck, man?!" He replied, his voice noticeably shaky. "The fuck is wrong with you? Is this some sick joke?"

There was a brief moment of silence between the two, the only sounds being each other's breathing and the cars passing by.

"I wish it fuckin' was." William muttered, his grip tightening on Jack's shoulders. "Jack. I swear to god, if you bring Dee anywhere near here from now on, I'll murder the shit outta you.”

"...William?" Jack mumbled, feeling the pressure around his shoulders ease and pull away from him. "What...?"

"It's not just for your sister... Sportsy..." William said, putting his hands into his pockets in a particularly seemingly rough way as he turned to head back into the diner.

"It's for your own good, too."

Hehe extra (it’s only Dave’s dialogue 💀)

[this-acuteneurosis]

Fine

Sometimes Leia forgets how long she's lived on the edge of another crisis and what a normal person's limits are.

[hollowghostsonfilm]

[Geto/Gojo Fic] Hollow: Where The Line Breaks [5/5]

Summary:

Satoru Gojo wakes up in the body of his sixteen-year-old self, 6 months before the Star Plasma Vessel mission. He's certain its a domain. Or a curse. Or a hallucination born at the moment of his death. It can't be real. Geto is alive. Shoko is there. The dorm floorboards creak at the exact right place. He has to focus, has to work out how to break out of this domain. But hope has teeth, and Gojo has been bitten.

Haunted by a future that only he remembers, Gojo has to walk the knife's edge between redemption and madness. Because if this is real, he can't let it go the same way again.

Master List for previous chapters.

Link to AO3 or read below:

Notes:

It will be important to note later that the word for ‘love’ Satoru uses in this chapter in Japanese is 好き [suki], not the more formal versions of the word.

Satoru has been set the unenviable task of character pancakes. Nanako has seen them on some awful variety show, and now Satoru has to make pancakes in the shapes of anime characters and Suguru has refused to help him.

He tries to squirt the coloured pancake batter into the pan in the vague shape of Detective Conan, but he’s no artist. At least it’ll probably taste the same, even if it ends up coming out of the pan like a curse.

He looks back over his shoulder to the kitchen table, where Suguru is writing an essay, fingers tapping over the keys of a laptop. Mimiko and Nanako are stood either side of him, fingers buried in his hair as they seem determined to put dozens of tiny braids in it. A glance in the other direction shows where the other two are, Tsumiki with her legs drawn under her on the couch, showing Megumi how to fold paper into the shape of a crane. Thus far, Megumi is having about as much luck with the paper as Satoru is with the pancakes.

After Nanako sees his first attempt, she turns her nose up and declares that she’ll just have heart-shaped ones instead, as the challenge was clearly beyond Satoru.

He accepts the constructive criticism, and manages to make up the batch of heart-shaped pancakes with a lot more ease and in a lot less time. He serves up the stack, pausing for a moment to nab one off the top with the tips of his fingers and put it on a plate next to Suguru.

He drags his nails across Suguru’s shoulders, which earns him a moment when Suguru looks up at him, purple eyes dancing, before he closes his laptop and starts to help the children serve up their breakfasts.

The morning light pours into the kitchen like grace – golden and, perhaps, undeserved. Satoru leans against the counter, wondering how he’s managed to build this from the bones of what could have been. How has he managed to gain something so warm, so soft, so real.

Megumi meets his eyes across the table, then points insistently to the chair next to him wordlessly.

Satoru follows the instruction, sitting down and letting small hands pile his plate high.

“Thank you, Megumi.”

Megumi harumphs in response.

♾️

It’s rare that they have time off together. Technically, they should both be studying for their third-year final exams. Their classmates are all busy with job hunting ready for graduation the following year, but this isn’t really something that Satoru has to worry about, considering he has a job basically lined up for him.

So instead, he grins at Suguru and runs a hand through his hair. “We haven’t sparred properly in a while. Let’s head to the school and see what we can do when we don’t have to worry about property damage.”

Suguru had looked at his thesis paper, then back up at Satoru, clearly weighing up his options.

Satoru leans forward, lips brushing against his ear. “See if you can finally pin me, Su~gu~ru~”

The laptop is slammed shut pretty quickly after that.

They make their way to the school in good spirits, and change into their sparring clothes as they make their way to the practice hall. It’s empty, not a single student bothering to train, it seems.

Well, good for them at least.

Something catches Satoru’s eye in the corner of the hall. Something blocky underneath a white cloth. Probably furniture of some kind? It’s out of place in the practice hall, but if the current student population aren’t using the hall, maybe it’s just being used for storage anyway?

Sunlight streams from the skylights above, warm afternoon sun painting the hall. Satoru pulls his shirt off, determined to get every reaction he can from Suguru. He turns to see Suguru tying his hair up, and pouts. That’s really not fair.

“No cursed techniques for the warm-up,” Suguru lays down the first rule.

Satoru cracks his knuckles, grinning. “Fine by me.”

“And take down Limitless,” Suguru continues.

Satoru laughs, caught trying to cheat, and releases a breath as he lets his shield down.

They begin to circle each other slowly, bare feet on the sparring mats. Satoru rolls his shoulder, giving Suguru a lazy grin. Suguru shifts his stance in response, eyes narrowing, deliberating.

“You’re stalling~” Satoru calls to him. “You scared or admiring the view?”

“I’ve seen you look better,” Suguru’s voice is low, the voice he uses in the bedroom, and Satoru’s mouth goes dry.

It’s still not quite enough to catch him off-balance when Suguru goes low. He dodges easily, sliding his hands around Suguru’s waist as he manoeuvres around him.

“Hands to yourself,” Suguru warns.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Satoru winks.

Suguru attacks again. It’s a flurry of blows, all of which are blocked before they hit. Satoru gets inside Suguru’s defences, popping up long enough to brush the ghost of a kiss over Suguru’s lips before the other swings for him and he has to lean out of the way before it connects.

It’s not long before they’re grappling, Suguru’s fingers digging into his ribs, his hips, his collarbones, trying to hold him down. Satoru smirks when Suguru wraps arms around his waist, and he manages to turn to brush a kiss against his temple in a fake-out dodge.

“When did you get so slippery?” Suguru huffs.

“Of all people, you shouldn’t have to ask that.”

Satoru then jumps back, putting space between them. Suguru wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Satoru knows he’s flushed, both with exertion and something else, the pink expanding down his chest. He sharpens his grin.

They go again. This time, Suguru grabs one of Satoru’s thrown punches, catching it and twisting it. Satoru lets him, doesn’t fight it when Suguru slams him down into the mat. A shock of breath leaves his lungs as his back hits the floor.

Suguru straddles his hips, knees bracketing him tightly. Satoru looks up at him, battling his eyelashes.

“Stop letting me win,” Suguru growls, hands resting on Satoru’s chest.

“I’m letting you touch me,” Satoru gives him a slow smile.

He hears the way Suguru’s breath catches as he stares down at him. He’s leaning in, his face drawing closer. Their chests press together, Satoru’s sweat-slicked skin brushing against the soft cotton of Suguru’s workout shirt. Their noses nearly touch, and the air seems to tremble between them.

Satoru is vaguely aware that something is humming in the background, something on the edge of his senses that he should be aware of.

But then he finds something more interesting to turn his attention to, like his hand running up Suguru’s thigh. Suguru’s hands curl into his hair as he leans down to claim a victor’s kiss.

“Warm up’s over,” Satoru murmurs against his lips, and Suguru tenses only to find a moment later that Limitless is back up and he’s being thrown backwards halfway across the hall.

Satoru never promised to play entirely fair.

Satoru forgot about the weird furniture until Suguru careens into it, grasping at the cloth to steady himself and pulling it off.

A wave of cursed energy rolls over them. Satoru grimaces. The cloth had obviously been some sort of seal on the cursed object beneath. It’s a mirror, he realises, and one he’s seen before. The Special Grade curse, up in the mountains.

He takes a few steps towards Suguru, intent on helping get the cursed object back under control before they set off half the alarms in the school, but when he steps into the mirror’s reflection alongside Suguru, he’s not standing in the practice hall at all anymore.

There’s a funeral pyre. A big one. Satoru looks up at it, at the flames. It smells like roasting meat. This is a jujutsu-shi’s funeral. When he looks around, he sees them. Megumi, Yuuji, Nobara.

Ah. He suspects whose funeral this is.

No sooner has he grasped it than he’s in a new place. Sickness rises in his gut when he realises what this is. That parasite parading around Suguru’s corpse. He had forgotten how grotesque it was, how strongly he had known that it wasn’t his friend.

Around him, Shibuya Station closes in, claustrophobic and endless. The moment’s hesitation is all it takes to get him sealed, and he watches as his own body is captured by the prison cube.

More images flash, Nanako and Mimiko slaughtered by Sukuna. Geto as a cult leader, masses of followers sycophantically bowing to him. Things he never saw himself, but that tugged on his awareness all the same.

Then the most shameful moment. The one that makes his blood run cold. Suguru. No. Geto, lying against the wall after his fight with Yuuta. Blood leaking from the corners of his mouth. A snatched conversation, one that wasn’t long enough for all the things that Satoru desperately needed to say.

Then death.

Satoru watches himself as he does it, how he doesn’t even flinch outwardly, when he knows internally, he was in pieces. He watches as he picks up Geto’s body, refuses to let anyone near it. A mistake that had cost them all so, so much.

Then he’s back in the practice hall again, and he dashes forward, throwing the cloth back over the mirror before it can charge up again.

Then Suguru speaks. Quiet.

“What the hell did I just see?”

Satoru’s blood runs cold. He turns to look over his shoulder, but Suguru is looking at him, eyes wide, breathing hard.

“You shouldn’t have seen that,” Satoru says to him, taking a step towards him. Suguru takes a step backward on instinct.

“Was that a vision?” Suguru asks, voice shaking. “Why do you look so calm, Satoru? What was that?”

“The future… Or… Well… It was a possible future,” Satoru’s voice sounds strangled even to his own ears. “The past. For me.”

Suguru backs further away, disbelief written on his face. “Your past? What are you talking about?”

“Shogatsu,” Satoru says finally. “I’m talking about what happened over shogatsu in our first year. When I seemed different, changed. It was because I had just woken up here. Again. From that future.”

Silence stretches as Suguru tries to make sense of it. Satoru waits, not making any sudden movements.

“I didn’t know how to save the world without saving you,” Satoru continues when it becomes too much to wait. Now he’s started, he can’t stop explaining himself. “You should never have suffered like that. I thought I could undo it. Rewrite us.”

More silence, and then:

“You arrogant prick. You gave me a different future without even thinking to tell me? You just decided to take it on yourself to play God and arrange our lives however you liked?” Suguru storms forward, eyes flashing. “How much did you change? How much did you fix to your own liking? Satoru, if this is a sick joke, stop this right now.”

“I saved you,” Satoru’s voice sounds small to his own ears. “I couldn’t let it happen to you again.”

“You lied to me,” Suguru hisses, his hands are shaking. “You manipulated everything and you lied to me.”

“Would you rather be dead?!” Satoru’s eyes flash bright blue as the anger rises in him. Just what was he supposed to do? “Would you rather you were insane? A cult leader, hijacked to murder half of Tokyo and Kyoto?”

“No! Of course not!” Suguru shouts back. “But I could have worked with you, Satoru! I could have helped! You kept me in the dark? Why?”

Satoru clenches his fist. “You were my best friend. My only friend. I loved you.”

“And if I’d done the same thing to you, would you still call it love?” Suguru fires the words at him like cursed energy.

Love is a word they haven’t used with each other. They haven’t even labelled what they have. But to hear Suguru spit the word with such venom makes Satoru’s head spin.

“I didn’t do this to control you! I did it to protect you!”

“You don’t get to say that when you apparently rewrote everything about me without asking me! Didn’t trust me not to lose my mind!”

“I couldn’t risk it. If I told you, everything might’ve-“

“So you decided for me!” Suguru’s shouting now. Satoru hasn’t heard him shout that way outside battle. “You decided who I would be. Who we would be. Did you plan for us to be lovers too?”

Satoru wants to reach for him. He wants to touch his wrist, his shoulder, anything. To reassure him. To tell him that these feelings that they have for each other are real. That while he might have loved the other Geto, it had been in a different way. It wasn’t like this. It wasn’t…

Suguru flinches away from him. “Tell me everything. Right now. What did you change?”

Satoru reels back. “Riko,” her name comes from his mouth.

“Riko?” Suguru repeats. “What happened to her-“

“Fushiguro Toji shot her in the head right in front of you,” Satoru cuts him off. “And I let her make her choice this time. And I found Megumi, and took him in rather than leaving him to work it out by himself. I helped you, and you-“

“You played chess with all our lives!” There’s something in Suguru’s eyes that’s ugly. Something that Satoru has seen before. In another life.

Desperation floods him. “I was trying to win.”

What he feels in desperation, it seems Suguru matches him in bitterness as his expression twists. “You think that I’m a prize that can be won? That Megumi is a victory medal? I trusted you to sit at my table and you lied to me every single day!”

The blow strikes Satoru straight in the chest. His expression folds. He can’t answer, because the truth is… yes. Yes, Suguru was his prize. His reason. His whole point in doing this.

“You are everything, Suguru.”

“And yet you still lied to me. For years! You didn’t trust me not to be… whatever  that was! Now I know why you were always so hot and cold. You were waiting for me to lose my mind and rather than tell me, you decided to just be Satoru Gojo and declare your will upon the world!”

Suguru turns away from him then, one hand going up to fist in his hair. He’s breathing hard.

“You know what’s worse than dying? Being erased. Being rewritten by someone you thought loved you.”

Satoru feels like he’s having an out of body experience. “Suguru… Don’t make me say it. Not when we’re fighting.”

“You think I should have pity for you right now?” Suguru laughs hollowly.

“I do love you. We’ve had more time this time round. I… I know what it’s like to fall for you and-“

“Then why didn’t you trust me?” Suguru’s voice breaks, and Satoru wishes more than anything they had just stayed in today. That they could have avoided this conversation entirely.

“Because losing you once destroyed me. I couldn’t survive it again.” His voice is cracked, uneven, broken.

Suguru whirls back round, and Satoru realises his eyes are wet, though whether the tears are anger or heartbreak, he can’t tell.

“You don’t own my life, Satoru. You don’t get to make all the choices because you’re scared. That’s not love. That’s control.”

Satoru goes very still. His breath feels like glass in his lungs. Suguru stares at him for a long moment, as though seeing him for the first time, then slowly shakes his head.

“I need space.”

“Suguru-“ Satoru reaches out again, panicked.

“No. Don’t. Don’t follow me. Don’t come home. I can’t look at you right now without seeing… that.”

Satoru thinks he might be hyperventilating. Suguru heads over to the mats to pull on his boots again, steadfastly not looking at Satoru.

He gets to the door and casts a look over his shoulder.

“I can’t love someone who won’t let me make my own mistakes.”

Satoru crumples to the ground at that.

This is fucked up. This is so, so fucked up.

[aravenlovesfanfiction]

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