#what if i bloodied my hands for you and never looked back at the wreckage

[bioluminesced]

we are gay knights together leone

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Honest?

Pairing: Dabi x reader

Summary: Lying always seemed to be the best way to navigate your attraction to Dabi. This definitely didn’t aid you after getting hit with a truth quirk

Warnings: slight smut/mentions of smut; a tiny bit of blood at the start; language; teasing;

Word Count: 2k

Your foot slid across the pavement, damp concrete aiding your narrow escape from your opponent's axe.

The weapon slammed into the wall behind you, making a small dent in the stone that had been a few centimeters behind your head moments before.

Glancing up, you watched them grasping the hatchet, the heel stuck within the wreckage. The struggle gave you a chance to sweep your leg under theirs, bringing them to their knees as you jumped up.

However, the force of their weight effectively pried the axe from the wall, it’s edge cutting through the fabric of your shirt and piercing the skin underneath.

“Shit!” You groaned, watching red bloom through the cloth, dripping past your elbow and onto the chest of your fallen combatant.

A bang sounded off from your left and your spun on your heels, watching Twice incapacitate some enemy that had sticks of dynamite for hair.

Maybe the quirkless didn’t actually turn out to be the least fortunate group that society made them out to be.

The distraction was just enough for you to almost miss the haywire explosive shooting straight for another one of your comrades.

“Toga!” Your shout echoed through the alleyway, making the blonde turn her head in question, giving her just enough time to sidestep away from the projectile. She giggled, turning back around to stab her own opponent in the shoulder. He let out a cry of pain as she waved in appreciation for your warning.

Fear shot through your chest as a hand slithered around your ankle, a final attempt to overcome you that was easily squandered with a kick to the nose.

Still, the sensation of your opponent's skin against yours left an icky feeling that trickled up your spine, almost like the area below your knee was tingling with infection. You tried to ignore it, glancing up in relief to see the rest of your team similarly victorious in this fight.

A rigid breath left your lungs, beating heart still hammering away.

The stroke of adrenaline slowly drained from your limbs, leaving a comfortably sound mind that pushed you to remember the scratch just above your elbow.

“Ouch! What happened?” You looked up, quickly shielding your bloodied limb from Toga's view. Her tone seemed falsely sincere, but it greatly clashed against the carnal excitement gleaming in those golden irises.

I’m fine.

“My arm got cut and my ankle feels kinda gross."

You blinked.

That wasn't what you wanted to say.

While this was hardly the worst injury that you had gotten over your time working with the League of Villains, you were never exactly one mention any of your personal problems regardless.

It was just easier to patch yourself up unaccompanied, not to mention your underlying anxiety regarding making yourself seem weak in front of your cohorts.

Of course, most of them weren’t the type to notice, with the minor exception of-

"What the hell is wrong with you?”

Dabi, despite his usually disinterested nature, was quite the perceptive individual.

Actually, it probably would've taken someone with the observation skills of an ice cube to not notice the confusion overtaking your expression.

Nothing, I’m fine.

The lie got caught in your throat, an unwanted truth quickly taking its place and pounding against your vocal cords. “I can’t stop talking."

He cocked an eyebrow. "What?"

"I can't stop talking. My mouth isn't doing what my brain is telling is to," you sputtered.

Now you were starting to panic, mind racing in sync to the pounding of the muscle in your chest.

Dabi, however, took a moment to ponder your words before striding over to your previous combatant. He nudged their crumpled form with the toe of his boot, getting nothing but a fractured groan in response.

Sighing, almost like the lack of answers pertaining to your well-being was of common inconvenience, he moved back to you, cerulean irises boring into yours. "What are you scared of?"

The words were almost immediate. "Abandonment and letting people down. But clowns are also pretty-"

Eyes widening, you slapped a palm over your mouth, an amused grin overtaking his. "Truth quirk. You'll probably be fine in a few days."

You exhaled in relief.

Honesty quirks were annoying, sure, but you weren't going to die and your brain wasn't going to melt or anything like that.

Wait...

"Days?" You jogged to catch up with him, Toga and Twice following closely behind.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Hiding something?"

No.

"Yes."

Fuck.

He clicked his tongue, feigned hurt lacing his tone. "Ouch, and here I thought that we were friends."

You were.

Kind of.

At least, in the way that villains could be friends.

He would bug you with teasing comments that border lined flirting on several occasions. In response, you would ignore him, sending a comparable quip back in his direction when you felt like it.

But for the most part, you tried to keep your distance.

Despite your current ally-ship, you would've been stupid not to recognize how dangerous he was.

The fact that you had found yourself vastly attracted to the man for quite some time definitely didn't help.

It was safe to say that you spent the rest of the walk back with your hands over your mouth.

While Dabi had become uncharacteristically quiet, much to your growing concern, your other companions had only seemed to become more talkative.

"Who's your favorite person in the league? It's me, right? It's pretty obvious." A strangled cry came from Twice's direction. "Why do you hate me?"

Toga tugged on the cuff of your jacket. "When we first met and I asked if we could be best friends and you said yes, was that just because I was covered in blood or did you mean it?”

All of those answers were muffled beneath your palms.

It seemed like an eternity before the league's hideout finally came into view.

But just as you were ready to slip past the door and book it upstairs, somebody grabbed your elbow, pulling you towards the bar.

"Come on."

Almost having to jog to keep up with his long stride, you looked up at Dabi in surprise. "Where are we going?"

"To make sure that arm doesn't get infected."

You stopped in your tracks, heels skidding against the worn floor panels as you tried to yank your wrist out of his grip.

Of course, he was stronger than you, annoyingly so, but stronger nonetheless.

He dragged you to a bar stool, forcing you into the seat by your shoulders with a scoff. You watched him trudge behind the counter towards the smart cabinet of medical supplies the League kept around before emerging with a small container of rubbing alcohol and some bandages.

“I’m…” I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal, is what you wanted to say, but the words stuck to your tongue like peanut butter. You took a minute, attempting to find a happy medium between what you wanted and what was the truth. “I can take care of it.”

You reached for the bottle, fingers grazing the glass as he yanked it out of your grip, completely ignoring your statement. With his free hand, he grabbed your wrist once more with a quick roll of his eyes.

Even as you tried to squirm away, he let a steady stream of the liquid fall onto your arm. He looked almost bored doing so, eyes only flicking up as you hissed through your teeth at the burn.

Dabi let out a mockingly kind pout. "Oh, I'm sorry, princess. Did that hurt?"

Your answer, an undoubted 'yes', was muffled beneath a palm, the action making him grin as he picked up the gauze.

“I can finish.” You muttered quickly, almost like if you spoke less, you may be spared from saying something embarrassing. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he relented, but not without another eye roll, and let you fidget with the bandages.

"So quick to get rid of me, doll? Won't you miss this pretty face?" Dabi let out a humorless chuckle before moving to put the bottle back.

The comment was just for show. He was one of the cockiest individuals you’d ever had the displeasure of laying eyes on. He was arrogant and awfully flirtatious when it came to you, but it wasn’t very difficult for anyone who looked hard enough to understand that he was internally pessimistic concerning his own appearance.

Those scars littering his skin were clearly a sore spot for him, although he didn’t seem to give a damn about giving anyone who would make a snide comment the satisfaction of a reaction.

Usually, they would just end up as a pile of ash.

Of course, his own secretly insecure views made it quite easy for you to keep up the image of your general dislike of the individual.

Which made it all the more terrible when you immediately responded with-

"Yes."

If it was anatomically possible, you could’ve sworn your stomach turned inside out as you watched him freeze, cerulean eyes lighting up as he slowly turned around to face you.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that I'd miss your pretty face."

He blinked. “You think my face is pretty?"

Run me over

"Yes."

with a freight train

The horrid grin crawling over his features made you queasy.

You leapt off the chair, shoes slipping on the wooden floor as you dashed to the stairs, the sting of embarrassment nipping at your heels.

But he was quicker.

Dabi's hand slipped around yours, yanking your body back and pushing it against the wall. "And where are you going?"

Almost instinctively, your arm shot upward, your palm aching to cover your mouth. The attempt was one that was easily squandered, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and tugging it upward before grasping both of your hands between one of his own. "My room."

"Why?" The smirk gracing his lips seemed to combat with the tension blazing in his eyes, quiet anxiety brewing for your answer, the one you would be forced to give.

"Because I like you and don't want you to know."

The silence that followed made you want to vomit, eyes burning with tears that you willed not to fall.

And then he was kissing you.

Fingers strewn through your hair, he pressed his mouth against yours, swallowing the gasp that followed his actions.

Your eyes flit to a close as you let Dabi take you, his hands slipping from yours to snake around your waist and push your hips together. Warmth sparks between your legs as his touch dipped dangerously beneath your pelvis.

A groan was forced passed your lips as he gave your left thigh a squeeze, smirking as he pulled away, palm still cradling your chin. "If you told me, we could've done this a lot sooner, ya know."

"Bullshit," You scoffed. "If you didn't feel the same, you would've been an asshole. You're always an asshole, actually."

Leaning forward, his breath tickled the side of your neck. You felt him grin, teeth nipping at the top of your ear. "Maybe, but I don't seem to have any issues turning you on. Isn't that right?"

"Yes." You looked down with a huff, shuffling your feet. "Whatever..."

He intertwined his fingers with your own. "Oh, come on, doll. No need to be embarrassed." With a small tug, he dragged you towards the hallway, barely missing the blue haired individual holding a glass of whiskey walking past.

Shigaraki raised his cup. "Where the hell are you two going?"

Dabi glanced down at you, a smile gracing his lips. "I don't know, princess. Where do you think we’re going?"

You were smart enough to know, but you sure as hell didn't want to say it.

Unfortunately, the man standing next to you didn't seem to care in the slightest.

"To fuck, probably."

The sound of your fearless leader choking followed you both up the stairs, your curses of annoyance bouncing off the decrepit walls and into his room, the door slamming shut with a bang.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

omg stop a cap mactavish drabble where they're caught 'n he's gotta keep the reader calm would feed my soul

—Listen To My Voice

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [He orders you to focus on him as the sounds outside the cell get closer. He promises nothing will happen to you. You know he's lying.] ❞

“Jus’ keep your eyes open and listen to my voice, eh?” The heavy Scottish drawl snaps you back into focus, your head pounding awfully and pain ricocheting up and down your limbs. It’s a stiff and unyielding order. “C’mon now, Sergeant.” 

Coughing, you hack up splatters of blood onto your cargos—hands and arms tied down with rough rope that skins you every time you shift. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, blinking rapidly as the footsteps walk away from your holding cell and disappear with the slam of a far-off door. 

The Captain ahead of you grunts, his hard blue eyes sliding down the wreckage of your uniform; the open wounds and torn fingernails. He doesn’t look much better, truth be told. Your captors had taken pleasure in making you watch the other get brutalized—the vile rage in your eyes yet the inability to do anything. 

It was mental torture as well as physical.

“Oversight ought to know we’re gone,” Soap slides out smoothly, tilting his mohawked head to the side to study the room in casual sweeps, as if not bloodied and broken. “—they’ll be sendin’ out recon teams to scout the area in little under a day. Standard protocol.”

His voice trails, seeing your gaze locked onto the door of the cell, pupils nothing but tiny dots in your burst veins of the once white sclera. Blue finds the way your body shakes, and the man’s large fingers twitch along the arm of his chair.

In the back of his throat, he lets off a rumble and resets his stubbed jaw; the scar along his left eye shifting with his expression. 

“Sergeant,” your face twitches, but you don’t look at him. Inside your chest, your rattling lungs can nearly be heard aloud. 

Captain MacTavish’s lips tighten. “Didn’t I tell you to listen? Pipe up! This is important.” 

Your mind dances between hysterics and the numb oblivion of shock. While Soap had years to adhere to the idea of bare torture—even going through it before—you had no such luck. Experienced with weaponry, yes, but One-Four-One had only taken you on with the idea that you could become better than you already were. 

You’d never gone through an actual interrogation beyond training. 

Fast flinching eyes dart to your superior, chest heaving and adrenaline coating your expression. Blood drips to the floor. 

Soap grinds his teeth and sighs through his nose.

She won’t last like this, he tells himself—blunt and honest. He’d told Price it was a bad idea to let you tag along, and without the reassurance from his fellow, he would have straight-out denied you coming. Too inexperienced. 

This was exactly what he had been worried about. 

But, hell, if that fear in your eyes didn’t make his stomach knot; a heavy rage at the image of your broken skin as all he could do was watch. But it was a silent kind of fury. Weighted with the knowledge of revenge. 

While the man hated dogs, he sure acted like a loyal one. 

“One day,” the Captain tells you—hardened; inflexible. His orbs are like hard steel and his stiff body like rock. “You can take one more day. Just need to focus on me…Copy? I don’t want your eyes to leave me. Not through any of it.”

You push through your haze, staring into his eyes with the vile stench of fear in the air. It was human nature to not want to be harmed. To dread pain and suffering in all senses. 

This man seemed apart from that. 

The Captain grunts, harsher now, “Copy?”

“I-I,” you stutter, lashes fluttering. “I copy, Sir.” 

“Relay.” He barks, watching you closely.

“One day.” Answering immediately, you clear your throat and stifle your whimper of agony—a few of your ribs are broken. “I can make it one more day.”

“Good.” Soap’s accent makes the words clipped and true. Taken as law. “Nothin’ll happen that won’t be repaid. Keep that close, it’ll help.” 

“How many times have you been through this?” Talking helped with the nerves, your focus leaving the sounds in the distant hallways and the loud voices wafting in the vents. The room was cold; you shiver and grimace as your body moved. 

“Too many.” Soap huffs, pulling at his restraints with a heavy hand and growling under his breath when nothing happens. “Comes with the territory, you’ll get used to it.”

You lick your bloodied lips and feel the cuts in them. “...Is that a good or a bad thing, Sir?” 

His lips twitch into a low smirk, shooting you a sly narrowing of his lids. “Well, I’d say that’s up to you now, isn’t it?”

In the grimness and the barbarity, you huff what can be described as a dead woman’s laugh. 

The Captain, still trying to find a loose area of the rope, grits his teeth and utters, “There’ll be no deaths here ‘cept the ones outside this cell, eh? Like I said—focus. When I tell you something, I don’t care how hard it is, you’ll be listenin’ to me. Got that?” 

Footsteps sound up again from beyond, and you tense, eyes flinching wider. Soap grunts out an order and you keep your feral gaze locked on his. Blue eyes bore into you, flaying their meaning deep into your body like you’re made of clay. The uptick in your pulse makes you shake wildly. 

“Keep those eyes right on me. Nothing’s goin' on that’ll kill you, aye?” The door turns and the unlocking of the barrier snaps like electricity up your spine. You want to run, but you know you can’t.

And through it all, you stare straight into Captain MacTavish’s frozen eyes—his strong brow pulled in with authority. He nods his approval with a quick jerk of his head. When the door opens, you can’t help but fear he’s lying.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[dynasty889]

Working on a thingy. The Time Dive but it’s warrior!Penelope. Do I like it? Mayhaps. Anyway:

Ares’ eyes glared down into the abyss as he stood upon the edge of the hour glass. He had never anticipated to be bothered with Penelope again, but her son had the same ability of convincing people that she did. So, here he was.

Ares put his helmet on. All around him, Penelope’s memories jumped out at him. “Old friend, it’s been ten years since I last saw you,” he said softly. Even so, he remembered it vividly. Those feelings of anger, frustration, and disappointment as he watched Penelope make that mistake.

“Remember me! I am the infamous Penelope!” She stood at the entrance of Polyphemus’ cave. He had just warned her not to, but she did it anyway. He was furious.

He sighed. Ares leaned forward, lifting his arms up, and fell into Penelope’s memories. “Let’s see where you’ve been!”

Penelope held a bag in her hands. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus sang. Too cheerful for it to be a good thing. Ares knew something had gone horribly wrong.

Next up: Poseidon. “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!” he shouted. Waves lunged at Penelope’s fleet. Bodies and debris littered the ocean. Ares paused momentarily to watch Penelope unleash the wind bag to escape the sea god.

“One wrong move and you’re done for! Anything I—!”

“—Song of past romance. I see the—“

“—We won’t take more suffering from you!”

“Drown in your sorrow and fears!”

The next several memories whipped by him. A witch who transformed her crew into pigs, a prophet in the underworld, the killing of sirens, and a run-in with a six-headed sea monster.

“Captain?” Ares barely recognized that voice. But he knew it was one of Penelope’s comrades. Thunder roared above the crew as Zeus’ hands lingered over Penelope and forced her to look at her crew. Ares had not been so angry in a long time. To see his father’s hands on the girl he had mentored sparked a fire inside him, one full of rage.

“I have to see him…” Penelope mumbled. Tears streamed down her face. Her face and clothes were torn and bloody. A black eye and a stab wound. The anger Ares had felt dissipated as he realized what happened.

“But we’ll die.”

“I know.”

Lightning struck the boat, and it exploded into hundreds of small fragments of wood. Again, bodies and blood covered the ocean. He couldn’t find Penelope among the wreckage.

“Penelope…” he started. Ares was almost shocked by how concerned he sounded, for her of all people. “Where did you go?” One more of Penelope’s memories gravitated towards him. Perhaps this one would tell him what had happened to her…

Penelope swam until the darkness of the night made things too hard to see. Until her legs gave out. She had managed to drag herself to the shore of an island, where she passed out. The next day, Penelope awoke to the sounds of gulls crying and the waves breaking on the shore. The light of the sun was nearly blinding. Every muscle in her body ached.

A stifled, low chuckle echoed in her ears. Blinking, she looked up and saw a man sitting beside her. “Morning, sleepyhead. You’ve been resting for quite a while, haven’t you?” he teased. His voice was deep, but despite that and his gruff appearance, it carried a humorous air. It was one Penelope did not like at all.

The man laughed again. Penelope’ confusion was adorably amusing to him and he decided he would savor it as long as he could. “You know, I swore that you were dead when I found you on the beach this morning,” he mused. “Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me, though, who’s Odysseus?”

Odysseus. That name, like sweet honey, lingered in her ears. It was like medicine to soothe her aching head. Though she was still groggy and dazed, her senses were slowly coming to her. “He’s my husband…” she murmured. It was at that same moment she realized how close the man was to her and that his hand was gently resting on her thigh.

He blinked, like he was confused. Penelope, equally confused, stared back. They exchanged stares in awkward silence before the man spoke again. He pulled Penelope up to her feet and dragged her behind him. “Anyways, I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here. Just you and me, my dear, my love in paradise.” His hands trailed down her body and he brought her close to him, like an embrace. “Soon, you will join me in bed and we’ll spend our time.”

[pearlsinmyhair]

⭑ idiot.

hobie x fem!reader one shot. mentions of injury and blood. NOT TRAGIC ITS OK I PROMISE-

your heart was pounding in your chest as you raced through the city, webbing for the area where hobie’s signal disappeared. his watch must have been damaged at some point in the anomaly capture.

you called his name, circling the wreckage and looking down for any sign of your favorite spider. there was nothing but rubble, and your stomach started to sink as you struggled to find him.

you landed on one of the larger peices of debris and called again. you counted five seconds of silence before you heard a distant yell of your name.

you rushed over to the sound, picking up peices of concrete and asphalt to find the source.

light streamed down onto hobie’s beaten and bloody face as you pulled away the last piece. he coughed, and you reached in to pull him out. he stumbled, holding something close to his chest as he took deep breaths.

he leaned against you, resting his head against your shoulder as his knees buckled. you helped lower him down to the ground, supporting him so he wouldn’t fall. your hands found his face, tipping it up to examine it.

“hobie, what the hell were you thinking?” you asked, your voice desperate as some tears welled up in your eyes. he pressed his cheek to yours as he caught his breath.

“had to save ‘er.” he whispered, and you looked down at hobie’s crossed arms to find something stashed safely inside.

a baby, precious and untouched. she looked up at you with wide eyes, stretching out her hands and curling her fingers into fists.

hobie moved his head to rest against your shoulder so he could peer down at the girl, and she cooed happily, patting hobie’s chest with one of her tiny hands. he chuckled, and you looked sideways at him.

“never would have taken you for the baby type. always kind of thought that mayday was an outlier.” you said softly, and his gaze shifted to you.

“nah, i’ve always liked ‘em. you just haven’t seen me around ‘em before.” he said.

the baby girl giggled, and you both looked down once more.

“so… all is forgiven?” hobie tried, smiling at you.

you clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth, brushing some dried blood from his cheek with your thumb. “this time? yes.” you said, moving the same hand to his jaw to bring him close.

“you’re an idiot.” you mumbled as his mouth brushed yours, and he grinned.

“only for you.” he said before pressing his lips to yours, the baby watching curiously.

“hey, what did i say about PDA on the job!” shouted miguel, who had followed the same trail as you to find hobie.

“respectfully, boss, i’d like to be allowed to kiss my girl after nearly getting smushed under concrete, thank you.” hobie retorted before moving a hand to the back of your neck and pulling you back to him.

masterlists.

i’m steady-fast working through all my drafts (there’s 25 💀) and this one’s been in here forever. here you go, some non-angst for once.

[gildedkrone]

I like how you did the request I gave you!!! Thankee!!! 😊😊😊 and I wasn't expecting you to give us smut but no complaints here. It was definitely worth the read.

Also I have another prompt/request...

Obviously GhostxMaleReader

I just love reading Ghost stories

Friends to enemy to friends or lovers maybe, like they were friends before but some misunderstanding led to them being enemies before they learn of the truth and try to reconcile...you can take your time on this one or just use what you can from this...I tried to leave you some wiggle room so you can do what you want...

- ☁️

To wish violets, it's you and I

So...I might have gotten carried away. This is an AU work, set in scifi and mythology(?). There's no 141 and Roba is mentioned in the fic. NOT ALIGNED WITH GAME CANON.

Relationships: Ghost x Male Reader Synopsis: You knew Ghost was Simon all along. Dying on a planet with him, you tell him your final wishes. A/N: Written to David Kushner's Daylight. Spotify link Master List

Themis is a place far away from the battlefield.

Rifles forgotten in a world where violence makes no sense. A bird's paradise, a song the martyr sings and the place of dreams. Where you are, the ground is dirty and bloody. Ghost lies a metre away, and his rifle lays on his lap. The medal on your chest is dirtied gold with specks of blood and soot.

"You know, I grieved for you."

He turns his head and his eyes are wide. He isn't prepared for what you have to say.

"When Simon died five years ago in that crash, I was distraught.”

“They had to pull me from the wreckage. It’s how I lost my eye.”

His eyes roam over the injury and they soften with the mercy of Simon. Simon would never want you to be hurt or injured. Ghost wouldn’t care.

“Why … why didn’t you tell me you were still alive?”

The pink skies are ablaze with warfare and a helicopter is smoking with flames falling from the skies into sands of vermillion. Your eyes are back on him again. His mask is cracked from your hands and parts of it lay in pieces on the ground.

The answer is something you’ve heard a million times before.

“Didn’t want to hurt you.”

The gap feels like a chasm of never ending depth and despite finding him finally, you fear not being able to stay with him. The final steps are so far and so steep. You can’t find the strength to move, and he doesn’t seem to be able to either.

“Commander! What do we do!”

Your communicator buzzes and Ghost looks at it. The wounds in your body are deep and it takes many tries to activate the device. It turns off with a beep.

“I searched for so long, Simon. Far and wide, all over the galaxy.” The hands are no longer a boy’s and time hadn’t been kind to you. You move your hand closer to his and he blinks slowly.

“I became a fleet commander, just so I could mobilize men to find you.” The countless men sent to their deaths in search for your lover at the hands of this Ghost person.

“Why did you hide from me?”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to see—”

“Why would I never want to?”

He swallows as his mask shifts slightly. A gleam in the trail of tears from his eyes smudging the eye black.

“I’m fucked.” He mutters and shame is evident in his words.

“You’re not.”

“You don’t understand—”

“I can’t understand if you keep pushing me away, Simon.”

His name falls from your lips repeatedly, as if stopping them meant losing him forever.

“You deserve someone better.”

“I can’t give you what you want.”

Roba had taken your lover away from you, scarred him and reduced him to a ghost of his former self. The skull mask reflects Roba’s work and you ache to hold him again. Not long after Simon’s death, a foe by the name of Ghost appears and the guns clashing between you both.

When you had both graduated from cadet school and the night spent with him slow dancing on the observation deck against the glittering and shining cityscape. His arm across your waist and his eyes soft as marble and enraptured.

“My heart tells me things,” he croaks and you urge him to continue, “I could never hurt you ever. Not in all of our battles.”

The miraculous escapes. The bullets that never hit their target. The explosions that always seemed to be mistimed. The luck you enjoyed over the years are his and you arm closes the final gap to touch his.

“Simon, come home with me.”

He shakes his head.

“There is nothing left, dear. No home to return to.” Dear.

“Then we will make one, together. A home for you and me.”

Finger intertwined in a caress of eternal love and a promise. To be eternal in eternity.

“I’m sorry, love. Not how I wanted our fight to go.” Love.

He coughs and it is gnarly. His body seizes and you squeeze his hand in encouragement. From the daylight of Sevus you see the wounds on his body. What irony, exchanging wounds with each other while Roba is nowhere to be found.

“Simon, will you let me see you?”

Panic and fear curls in his eyes and he squashes the instinct to say no. He nods hesitantly and hands are gently removing the mask.

Simon is beautiful. There are scars where there weren’t before but he is still the same man you dedicated your heart to those years ago. He relaxes and the action draws a smile from you.

“Still the same man I loved all these years.”

“Love—” His face twists in denial and you see the wounds running deep into him. He may be in one piece now, but the cracks will remain and stay with him forever.

“Still the same man, Simon.”

The moons in the sky are aligning perfectly. His hand is warm and tranquillity blankets you both.

“Do you remember our chants?”

“I could never forget them. Not even when Roba tried.”

“How did it go? I can’t remember them anymore.”

Without the mask, he is so expressive and a contemplative look settles on his face. A twitch of an eyebrow and a small frown creasing his features. He speaks first.

“One to the ode of Mara.”

Themis is paradise.

You continue the next line.

Themis is a garden.

“Two to the ode of Soventus.”

Themis is salvation.

 He continues the next line.

Themis is sanctuary.

“Three to the ode of Akarosh.”

Themis is the world’s basin.

“Four to the ode of Balmet.”

Themis is time interwoven with eternity.

“Fifth to the—”

“Ode of Themis.”

He nods and you speak the final line together with him. Two hearts beating as one; two beings ridden with guilt and more so, affection and love.

Themis is where we live out the rest of our days.

“When the time is right, my lover and I, we bequest the tides of evermore,”

take us to Themis.

[ohthethingswedoforlove]

Yandere!Sal/Syakesan headcanons

I wasn't joking when I said I was back in my 2014 era.

Warnings: yandere character; descriptions of violence; death; big spoiler warning for the last half of the story and bad ending N°2;

Sal

❤️ It's funny. Something about him had always felt just a little bit... Off.  

❤️ In theory, you had no good reason to distrust him. And surely neither did any of the other inhabitants of the Blue Sea.  

❤️ Sal is nothing if not kind, helpful and reliable. A dutiful member of the princess' court and a good friend to many, if not just a bit of a pushover.  

❤️ But maybe... Maybe it was the constant smiles, maybe it was the overbearing friendliness, or maybe even the stares you could feel searing into the back of your head.  

❤️ Maybe it was the fact he could tell that you didn't fully trust him. 

❤️ He tried his best to get in your good graces. Offering his help, his company, some small trinkets here and there. Always with the air of an old friend who just wanted to catch up.  

❤️ And you accepted, slowly but surely, you did. If one of your drawers back at home full of small gifts made of seashells and pearls are anything to go by.  

❤️ After all, he couldn't afford any suspicion.  

❤️ Not after everything he had to go through. Not after he waited for so long in this godforsaken sea.  

❤️ You are endearing, yes. Charming, he could even admit. Though this felt different from the way he had taken a liking to Wadanohara.  

❤️ He would be lying if he said that he didn't get some enjoyment out of your little game of back and forth. Of the way you always seemed just a bit wary of him.

❤️ It dulled the boredom. It made it feel like there was at least someone in this sea who wasn't completely and brainlessly trusting.  

❤️ It made him want you to be the first he would seek out on the day everything would go to hell. What would be your reaction, he wonders? For your fears to be proven right in the most horrific way possible?  

❤️ He felt like you never quite fully bought into his little song and dance, no matter how stupid he made himself look or how cheery he acted. And while amusing, it came with concerns.

❤️ He almost let himself feel wary, even worried that you could pose some sort of threat to his plan, that you would go and run your mouth.  

❤️ But then again... Maybe he overestimated you a bit.  

❤️ Because not even you saw what was coming.  

❤️ How could you, really? How could anyone? Who would truly believe what he had done, what he was capable of? 

❤️ Even you couldn't predict the return of the Red Sea.

❤️ And his plan came to pass, nearly as perfectly as he had hoped; and he watched as the shock of betrayal turned everyone against him.

❤️ Sal had been disappointed in Wadanohara's reaction and choice in alliances, but then again, he wasn't surprised either. Of course she wouldn't take his side or accept him now, none of the inhabitants of the Blue Sea would. 

❤️ Well, most of them didn't. But at least the sea witch's violently smitten octopus familiar served a good enough purpose in the end.

❤️ He didn't care anymore. After leaving Wadanohara's fate in the bloody and traitorous hands of Fukami, he knew exactly who he was going to see next, leaving them behind as her screams echoed through the halls of this decaying palace.

❤️ You had nowhere to run.

❤️ Surviving amongst the wreckage and violence was near impossible, and trying to help any familiar faces was basically a suicide mission that wouldn't end without you either losing limbs or just straight up dead.

❤️ And with Wadanohara gone, it's not like there was much hope left for the sea to be saved.

❤️ He found you curled up in a corner, hiding away as much as you could in this chaos, shaking and terrified. Who could blame you, really?

❤️ Funny. A glint catches his eye, an insignificant detail he shouldn't have bothered with. You were still wearing one of those stupid seashell bracelets he made for you.

❤️ And he had noticed. Back when he revealed his true form and alliance to the red sea, your expression hadn't been of anger or one that showed you had seen this coming, like he had always imagined it would be. No. You were in disbelief. You looked betrayed.

❤️ You were scared.

❤️ He guesses, in the end, you might have started to warm up to him. Genuinely started to enjoy his company. The revelation made his heart twist, but for a reason he didn't want to spend any time pondering.

❤️ What a shame.

❤️ When he started to approach you, bloody, sword in hand and the sharpest smile pulling at his face, you could only think of death. But he had other plans.

❤️ He didn't care about your approval on the matter, like he tried getting with Wadanohara. And he isn't planning on you ending up like her, either. Death would be too sweet of an escape for you. 

❤️ His companion and newest victim. He thinks you could stay forever and endure the pain with him. What a wonderful ending for you. For both of you. Forever tied to the Red Sea, forever tied to him.

❤️ He's been alone for so long, won't you keep a shark some company?

[youngpettyqueen]

Since you are asking for DS9 short fic requests, could you please do #6 “You can’t die. Please don’t die.” of the writing prompt list with some Julian Bashir whump? (But no character death please!) ❤️

you got it anon! and worry not, writing character death fics isnt really my thing, so no chance of me killing anybody <3

also since you didnt specify anybody else in the scene I decided to have Miles be there! hope that's ok I just have them on the brain

Miles wonders if this is how Julian feels every time a mission leaves him half-dead.

He can't stop pacing. Back and forth, back and forth, he's going to pace a ditch right through the cave floor at the rate he's going. He tried sitting and holding still, but that just made him feel like he was itchy under his skin, twitchy with nerves. So, pacing it is. Pacing and cursing how quiet it is.

Any other day he'd be grateful for the quiet. Today, though, he hates it. Because Julian isn't quiet, he isn't capable of being quiet, and right now he's dead silent.

Miles glances over. Julian is just as unconscious as he was last time he looked over, which was all of two minutes ago if he's being generous. Still and quiet, so goddamn quiet. He finds himself moving closer, just so he can make sure that Julian's chest is, in fact, still rising and falling.

And then he's kneeling down. He's checking the dressing over Julian's stomach. Again. He's not a doctor, he doesn't know what he would even be looking for here, but he's checking anyways. He can't help it. It makes him feel better.

The dressing is still clean. Miles is sure that's a good thing- that means he hasn't bled through it yet. Considering all he's had to work with is a dermal regenerator on the fritz and some bandages, he'd say that's pretty good. Sure, Julian might be able to save the entire station with less than that, but, well... Julian's the one who needs saving this time.

It was supposed to be a simple away mission. It's always supposed to be a simple away mission, really. They were delivering medical supplies to a Federation colony, helping them deal with a nasty outbreak of some sort of flu that Miles can't remember the name of. They were well on their way, spending the time arguing over who actually won their last game of darts, casual as can be.

And then they got shot down.

Miles didn't see who it was. Could've been Cardassians, could've been Maquis, could've been literally anybody this side of the Quadrant. All he knows is one second things were great, and the next his console was exploding and throwing him across the cockpit, and Julian was wrestling with the controls to aim them at the closest planet. He threw himself back into his seat and did his best to help, but there was no saving their landing. They crashed. Violently.

Miles woke up on the floor, bruised all over but still breathing. And Julian was hunched over the console, unmoving just like he is now. But there, he was awake. He was all-too awake, and he wasn't moving, because he'd been flung into the splintered console, and it was embedded deep in his gut.

He's never going to forget the sounds Julian let out as he pulled him off the console. It was a mercy he'd passed out right after, going limp and lifeless in Miles' arms the second he was free. Gave him a bloody heart attack, thinking for a brief second he'd just up and died, but it at least made it easy to gather Julian up in his arms and carry him out of the wreckage.

It's not a good situation. Their medical supplies was destroyed in the crash, and the medkit and all its contents were either damaged or broken beyond use. The dermal regenerator barely managed anything before it sparked out and nearly exploded in his hand. They've got a transmitter, at least, but it was damaged in the crash and he has to check it every few minutes to make sure it's still working.

And Julian won't wake up.

Miles' gaze travels up to Julian's face. Perfectly still, damn near peaceful, except there's a thin sheen across his forehead and he's pale under his skin. A pinch to his brows betrays the pain he's still in, even unconscious. The kit had one working hypo that he could find, and he'd given it to Julian without hesitation. He's not in the best shape himself, battered and bruised as he is, but that's all small potatoes compared to Julian.

It's probably a mercy that he's staying unconscious. Miles doesn't envy the pain he'd be in if he were awake. Still, there's a big, selfish part of him that wishes Julian was awake. Because then, at least, it wouldn't be quiet. He's never hated quiet before today. He'd be happy to never have to deal with complete silence ever again.

"I don't know if you can hear me," He says, mainly just to fill the space, "And I really hope you can't, because I'd never say this to you if you were awake, but... you're the best friend I've got, Julian. And I'm really not ready to let that end here," He admits, his voice quiet even though there's nobody else around, "Cause, y'know, we've got that holosuite reservation next week, and Quark won't consider your death grounds for a refund. And... I'd miss you, so there's that," God, this is hard. Julian's fucking unconscious and this is still so hard, "I'd... I'd really miss you, Julian, so... I guess what I'm saying is... you're not allowed to die," He reaches, like he's going to take Julian's hand, but comes up short, "You can't die. So, please don't. Die, that is." He ends up patting Julian's arm. It feels awkward and stiff, but anything else feels too much like he's saying goodbye, and he's really not trying to say goodbye right now.

"Is that..." Miles' head snaps up, and he finds himself meeting Julian's half-open eyes, "Is that... an order, Chief...?" He asks weakly, managing an obnoxious smile, even now.

"Oh, you bastard," Miles breathes, because yeah, of course Julian woke up in time to listen to that, "You right bastard. How much of that did you hear?" He asks.

Julian grins, blood painting his teeth. "Enough," He replies, like an asshole, "You'd... miss me?" He questions, looking far too smug for a man halfway to death.

"Absolutely not," Miles informs him, sniping purely out of habit and with no real heat behind his words, "But Keiko would miss you, and I hate to see Keiko upset, so I guess I need you to stay alive." He continues.

"How's it feel... knowing your wife would miss me?" Julian asks, still grinning like a smug clown.

"Don't push your luck, Julian," Miles tells him, with undeniable fondness, "It'd be far too easy to make it look like the crash killed you."

Julian croaks a laugh. And maybe this is the moment where Miles should say something heartfelt. Like how he actually would miss Julian, a whole hell of a lot. Or how glad he is that he's alive. Or how relieved he is to hear the sound of his voice. But Julian already knows those things, and spilling his heart out while Julian bleeds his guts out would feel way too much like they're having their final conversation. This banter, though, is familiar. It's them. And it lets him say we're going to get through this without actually saying it.

So, he doesn't say anything nice. Instead, he gets back into arguing about darts. Because then Julian is talking, and it isn't quiet anymore, and he can hide in the familiarity of their arguing and convince himself that everything's going to be ok.

(And it is. Miles has to kick the transmitter a few more times, but a rescue comes. Julian is fine, he won't even have a scar. And if Miles relents and begrudgingly admits, at last, that maybe Julian won their game, well... maybe that's his way of saying he's glad Julian's alright.)

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie prompt: Jamie's a no show to training and everyone is super annoyed, but that all goes out the window when he finally does arrive, but he's pale and shaky, and worse still his clothes and his hands are stained red. " It's not my blood." He says dazedly before he collapses into Roy's arms. He doesn't faint, just goes limp and catatonic. No one can figure out what the hell happened until a viral video appears all over, showing Jamie not only witnessing a horrific traffic accident but also springing into action and helping to pull the victims out of the mangled wreckage. The image of Jamie screaming and desperately trying to keep a little girl Phoebe's age from bleeding out in his arms is seared into everyone's brains, especially Roy's. Roy vows to do all he can to help Jamie heal from this trauma. Love ends up being one of the best remedies.

Anon ily I’m ready to attempt to make people cry again. *rubs hands together*

tw I’m killing the victims of the crash to really make it tragic. *SORRY* there’s also a bit of blood described.

Roy had texted and called Jamie about 20 times now. He doesn’t know what happened, three hours ago they woke up together, lost an hour in bed, Roy had to come in early so Jamie said he’d run here.

That was over two hours ago. Practice is basically over. People are talking showers. It’s insane. He has to pick up Phoebe in another hour, and she was really looking forward to seeing her ‘uncle Jamie’ Christ that kid.

He is officially freaking out. He knows Sam and Colin have called and texted also. Beard did his weird thing of “I know a guy” and left it at that.

Roy is just about to do another lap around the office when he hears Sam yell. He darts out of the room

Jamie.

Jamie covered in blood.

Oh god.

Jamie scans the room ignoring everyone’s questions and panic, he finds Roy. He takes the four steps over to him and collapses. Roy catches him like always, he slowly drops the both of them to the floor, Jamie proceeds to crawl into his lap.

Roy let’s out a noise he refuses to acknowledge. “Not my blood, I’m fine, gonna not talk now kay lads?”

Roy vaguely wonders if Jamie decided to kill his father today but that seems like an unlikely answer.

Beard comes running back in from where he disappeared to take a call.

“Roy we need to talk- oh good god okay good he’s here. There was a car accident. People filmed. Jamie was the first person around, a kid was thrown out the windshield. She uh she didn’t make it off of the scene. He held her. Screamed at people to call 999. Wouldn’t let her go until the ambulance got there. He held her the whole time.”

Roy blinked through tears he could feel starting out of his eyes. Christ fuck morning practice how could they think Jamie was just fucking off, he would never do that.

Sam comes over to where Jamie is staring at the wall behind Roy’s head. Sam sits next to Roy and takes a still bloody hand. Isaac and Colin move in sync, Colin digs out baby wipes, Isaac takes them and kneels down to wipe off the bits of Jamie’s arm that’s not wrapped around Roy’s neck.

Roy presses a kiss to Jamie’s head, a rare sight for the locker room but he feels that it’s allowed. Jamie let’s out a shaky breath. Roy repeats the action, when he pulls back this time though he’s got a plan.

“Alright, everyone our house 40 minutes, Isaac can you pick up Phoebe. We are gonna get Jamie showered off and fine again and then have a quiet movie day.”

Theres a murmur of agreement in the room,

Isaac swaps cars with Roy so he has a kid seat. Everyone leaves the locker room but not without touching Jamie in some sort of way.

Colin lingers for a second with an offer of “need help?” Roy needs to later tell him how grateful he is but he shakes his head no. Colin leave with a nod to go get Phoebe with Isaac.

“Baby can we stand to wash you off?”

Jamie sniffs. He nods his head unfolding himself from Roy’s lap.

Roy stands with a flinch, that’ll hurt more later but not the biggest issue. He slowly undresses Jamie, he tosses all the clothing into a trash can.

Jamie had worn all white today. It was a blinding contrast.

Roy undresses with less care then he did for Jamie, he pulls him into the shower. Roy reaches for Jamie’s body wash, Jamie looks up at him.

“She was about Phoebe’s age. I didn’t know they had that much blood in them that young. She wasn’t even really crying. I think I cried more then she did.”

Jamie gasps like it’s the first time he’s taking a breath.

Roy moves onto his hair now that the blood on Jamie’s skin is washed off. Clearly Jamie ran hands through his hair, the blonde streaks are tinted pink.

“She told me she was happy to be held. That she loved me.” Jamie cuts himself off with a sob. Roy gathers his up to his chest.

What can he even say besides he’s sorry at this point. No one should ever go through this.

“Her uh, her mom was driving, got slammed into by a truck that went through a light. Never saw it coming. She died in the car they said.”

Roy rocks them slowly under the water, “I know I’m sorry isn’t enough but you know I’m here for you. It sounds like you did everything you could’ve.”

Jamie nods again, “paramedics said the same thing, cops too. I was just thinking of Sarah and Phoebe the whole time.”

Roy sighs, he lets the tears he felt earlier come down his face, “I know. When you said mom and daughter I thought the same. But they are both fine, Sarah is at the hospital, Isaac and Colin are picking Phoebe up to bring to our house.”

Jamie sniffs. “Can she stay the night.”

Roy nods. “Course. I think everyone might be staying the night though, don’t think they’ll let you out of their sight any longer then the 40 minutes I asked for.”

Jamie let’s out a wet laugh. “God I really scared everyone didn’t I.” Roy leans down and kisses Jamie “more then any of us could ever tell you.”

Jamie taps Roy’s chest, “let’s go home.”

Roy holds Jamie’s hand. He knows it might take a while but Jamie will be okay eventually.

[dreadsuitsamus]

Vegeta Comfort After a Nightmare Headcanons | Vegeta x Reader |

author's note: i had a bad dream that my sister died in a car crash and am channeling that energy into this 🥺 this is more of a story in headcanon form than true headcanons

pairing: vegeta x fem!reader

warnings: nightmares, mentions of death, saiyan!reader, planet vegeta au

In your line of work, there's death and destruction around you constantly

Even as a child on Planet Vegeta, you saw things and heard about things no child should have to even think about

As a Saiyan, you are strong physically, and by the time you reach adulthood, you're immune to many things that used to scare you

Your own death doesn't scare you, and for the majority of the men and women you've ever battled alongside, you don't fear for them either. It's in your culture as a Saiyan to respect it, after all, as a warrior's death is commonplace for a Saiyan

But, not that you would ever admit it, marrying Vegeta has softened you up a bit

Your greatest fear is to lose your husband, and after a particularly rough ambush on what was supposed to be a routine mission, it nearly comes true

He's battered and bloody, beaten to a pulp and hardly breathing. Your eyes sting as you look at the prince in the healing tank, unable to blink

Vegeta saved your life, and it almost cost him his own. Valiant on his part, foolish on yours. He's not just your husband, never has been. He's the Prince of all Saiyans, and to lose him would be catastrophic without an heir

He recovers of course, and proves to be stronger for it. He doesn't care for your apologies and tears; you are his mate, and to die for one's mate is honorable

You, however, cannot let it go

Shortly after he's recovered, he's back on field missions while you are ordered by the king himself to rest at home, in order to best prepare your body to produce an heir when the mating season comes

To stay home while Vegeta is gone is torturous, to say the least

Every time you close your eyes, the same scene ends up playing before your eyes. One moment you're with Vegeta, strolling through the castle gardens. He's giving you that occasional, secret smile he only gives to you, and you feel at home

And then in an instant there's wreckage, carnage from the other Saiyans on that mission, and Vegeta is dead at your feet

You scream and shake and shake and shake his body fruitlessly, and soon wake up with a scream that echoes in the castle

Your lack of sleep shows, and Vegeta notices the bags under your eyes when he returns from his mission

"When I said don't wait up, I meant it." He murmurs, cupping your cheek and examining your face

All you can do is hug him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and the strong beat of his heart

You toss and turn beside him that night, silently willing yourself to just sleep. He's getting irritated, and when you hear the low growl in his throat, it's already too late

"Woman, if you move one more time, I will throw you."

he's always been bitchy when he's tired

You take a deep breath and stay as still as you can, and eventually sleep does claim you

Vegeta's slumber is interrupted by your movements after a few hours, and he's ready to make good on his promise

But then he hears you whimper, and his brows crease in confusion and worry

He's quick to light a candle and look closer, wiping sweat from your forehead and placing a warm hand on your tummy, shaking gently

"Wake up, you're having a bad dream."

You jolt at his touch, a tortured cry leaving your lips. "No... Vegeta!"

Vegeta only frowns more. What the hell are you dreaming about??

"Wake up, dammit!" He says with more force, gripping your shoulders and shaking a bit harder

A gasp rips out of your throat and your eyes fly open, met with your husband's concerned face. A sob leaves your lips and Vegeta finds himself pulled into a crushing embrace, tears on his chest

"What the hell...?"

"I-I'm so..." You can't even finish your sentence, and Vegeta takes a deep breath, pulling you into a sitting position with him

He fetches your robes and slippers, and then takes your hand, leading you out of the castle and to the gardens. It's quiet, minus your sniffling, and the gears in Vegeta's head turn for a while

"You've been having nightmares the entire time I was away?"

Your nod is accompanied by yet another sniffle. "It's always the same; I see you die."

Vegeta squeezes your hand and walks a bit longer before speaking up again. "I see. You still blame yourself for what happened to me."

"If I would've paid closer attention-"

"It was an ambush, princess. There is no blame, and I am not dead. Forgive yourself." Vegeta wraps you up in his arms, your face pressed in the gap of his robe to his bare chest. His heartbeat is stronger than ever

You close your eyes, relaxing with each inhale, the scent of your mate lulling the anxiety prickling your nerves

Vegeta presses the smallest of kisses to your forehead, holding you securely. His tail wraps around yours, nuzzling them together

One of those soft smiles comes to his lips when he hears your gentle, rhythmic breathing, and he carries you back to bed, laying you right on top of him and holding you for the remainder of the night, and well into the morning

He's awake already when your eyes open again, the sun high in the sky and lighting up your bedroom

You look at his face, your own clearly well-rested. He smirks softly at you, squeezing your body closer to his and closing his eyes again

You never have another nightmare in this bed again

Bonus: Comforting Vegeta After a Nightmare Headcanons

Vegeta wasn't the type to have bad dreams for the majority of his life

It wasn't until the entire planet was blown to bits that he began having nightmares

He could only thank a higher power that you were with him off-planet when Vegeta was lost

But when he would fall asleep, stuck in a cramped room with you on the main Frieza ship, his mind would wander in awful directions

He'd dream about you being on that planet that dreadful day. He'd feel absolutely gutted, his blood boiling with his wrath, and he felt so strong and distraught he wondered if he was on the precipice of Super Saiyan

You had no idea what he'd been dreaming of until nearly a year after Frieza's assault of your home

Vegeta turned in early that night, so you were focusing on your embroidery, which you'd taken up since Frieza permanently benched you from missions, which he used against Vegeta often via threats to kill you for your uselessness, should Vegeta not play along

You hear a soft gasp from him and the bed shakes at the way he jerks, and your chest fills with anxiety

You're quick to cross the room and kneel beside the bed. "Vegeta, wake up. You're having a nightmare." Your hand lays flat on the center of his chest

He begins thrashing, and your eyes widen when a crackle of lightning buzzes across his fingertips, his hair briefly glowing gold

cue intense shaking

"Wake up!"

It takes several more shakes for him to finally wake up, any lightning and golden hair ceasing instantly

He falls off the bed in his violent haste to sit up, crashing onto you

His reflexes are fast, however, and you're scooped in his arms and flipped around before you finish hitting the ground, Vegeta breaking your fall

You brace your hands on his chest, feeling how hard his heart pumps. His eyes are blown wide and your face softens considerably

"Vegeta... You had a bad dream."

His hand is at the back of your neck and pulling you down to his level, foreheads pressed together

"I will obliterate this entire galaxy if I lose you."

You're settled on the bed soon, back to Vegeta's chest and beginning a new embroidery piece while he holds you, hiding his face in your neck, eyes peeking out at your work

"What's that...?" He mumbles curiously, his iron grip still tight

You smile to yourself, gazing at the work. It's an outline of your husband's head and hair, in gold

"The man of my dreams."

Cue Vegeta's smirk on your neck, a devious plan forming in his mind

"Remind me to drink more juice."

[creative-frequency]

Raphael x Reader: Act I: The Bargain

Summary: Bloody and bruised from the nautiloid ship crash, forging a contract with a devil becomes your best and only option for survival. This is the first flashback oneshot for the main story of the series. The poem is The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. Word count: 2197 Notes: Dealing with a devil, canon-typical blood and injury.

My writing masterlist

Bottles of Ithbank and mugs of red ale rose up to meet the bright stars embroidered into the velvety midnight sky. Comforting and familiar voices of laughter and cheer bubbled around you. It was a night to remember, reminisce and celebrate. In destroying the Absolute you had faced the impossible and lived on to tell the tale. You had gained allies and most importantly, you had met people, who you proudly called your friends.

Deep in thought, you fiddled with the ring on your left hand’s ring finger. A vexing lark from the gift giver, as the ring would fit no other digit. You had bet your soul on never removing the stupid piece of jewellery, at the same time dooming yourself to the eternity of answering delighted queries about a presumed marriage.

Every time you took a sigh to explain you were, in fact, not married, you heard the devil over your shoulder laugh somewhere deep in the Hells. Out of sheer spite, you wished you could hate him. But he had given you this life and this victory, so you endured.

Wyll, the freshly appointed Grand Duke of Baldur’s Gate, sat next to you by the large table and noticed you twiddling with the ring.

“So. Do you know what became of Raphael?” he asked cautiously and nodded towards your hands.

You shrugged, not exactly keen on discussing the devil even though the wine had already spun your mind into a pleasant, relaxing buzz. You had been prepared to answer this particular question during the course of the evening and it was no shock Wyll was the one to voice it. You had met with Wyll from time to time after your travels together, but had always avoided the subject. Luckily the Grand Duke was a busy man. 

“I guess your pact still stands then. I’m sorry,” Wyll said and took a swig from his goblet.

“Don’t be,” you corrected him and opened your mouth to justify why, but Wyll just looked at you with compassion.

He was the only one of your companions who truly knew what you had been through since he had made the same choice – albeit your reasons were initially more selfish than his. The only difference was that he had found a way to outwit his devil patron to get out of his pact. The Duke Ravengard still had horns, but no longer even a tiny bit of the infernal power of a warlock was coursing through his veins.

Wyll changed the subject: “It feels like the whole thing happened in another life.” 

“It really does,” you sighed and raised the bottle to your lips again.

“I’m glad you decided to stay in Baldur’s Gate, though.”

“Don’t say anything about being a hero, please,” you exclaimed and Wyll grinned. You couldn’t help but grin right back at him.

“I wasn’t going to,” he assured you.

“I’m done playing the hero for now. I need time to put my feet up” – you lifted your boots and planted them on the table – “and enjoy just being alive.”

Wyll shot you a humorous look, but decided against noting how the heroics usually had happened when you had tried to avoid those situations the most.

Six months earlier

Hidden behind wreckage, you dared to inhale a shallow breath and barely held back a cough. Unknown parts of the nautiloid ship and horrifying, giant flesh pods laid scattered and broken around you. Their colourful liquids were mixed on the ground into sickening pools. There was a reek of burning something you didn’t want to think about and it made breathing even harder.

A couple of your ribs were likely broken from being thrown around by the impact from  exploding tubes. It had not been one of your finest moments or the best aimed fire bolt, but at least you had lost the pursuers, for now.

You prayed to every known god and goddess under your breath. You had survived the nautiloid crash and found yourself alone again amidst the debris – only to be attacked by a group of pathetic, random looters. It was five against one and you didn’t even have a weapon on you. It would’ve been a tough fight on a good day, but you were seriously injured, bleeding and delirious from the environmental hazards affecting your senses. So you had attempted to cause as much chaos as you could to hide.

If you had thought getting taken by mind flayers was bad enough, it had been pure downhill since then. The inevitability of this one becoming your last adventure started to settle in.

You sat on the broken floor, leaning into a crevice in the debris and listened to any voices. The looter group was not far, but unfortunately they were not foolish enough to make noise as they were tracking you down. You had maybe minutes to live and there was literally nothing you could have done about it.

So you prayed. Incoherent words tumbled from your mouth under your broken breaths.

You would give anything for the power to smite those pathetic thiefs.

Anything for the power and means to save yourself from the predicament.

You closed your eyes and focused on listening to the approaching final moments of your existence.

Anything to live and die on another day.

A soft step. Then another. Your pulse surged. Someone was coming, but nothing about him was what you had expected.

A man you would have eagerly described as mysterious and handsome walked towards you. His steps were leisurely, his pace unhurried and his expression tinged with curiosity.

Maybe some poison gas had finally addled your mind and you were seeing things.

“Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—” he recited carefully with graceful cadence, pacing closer.

A poem? So you were either dead or poisoned. Your head lolled to the side, trying to see his face clearly in the midst of the smoke and floating embers.

“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, as of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.” His voice was smooth, almost drawling. It sent a warm shiver down your back. His hands motioned in rhythm with the words.

The stranger paused right in front of you and continued: “’Tis some visitor,’ I muttered, ‘tapping at my chamber door—”

He leaned down to have a closer look at you and his expression turned unreadable. His eyes were chestnut brown, cunning and framed by dark lashes. The high cheekbones were tinged with healthy red.

“Only this and nothing more,” he ended the verse with a contemplative note.

You blinked in confusion, openly staring and wondering could he have been one of the looters, because he certainly didn’t look like one. His clothes were fancy: a blue doublet, ornamented with gold trimmings and a frilly collar. His brown hair was combed back and waves of light curls gathered behind his ears.

Maybe you had gone mad or lost consciousness already.

“Are you really here?” you asked in a shaky voice.

“Is that not why you were rapping at my door?” he returned the question.

Delirious from the smoke and blood loss, you couldn’t understand what he meant.

“Please, you have to help me…” you pleaded, still unsure if the man really even existed.

“Wouldn’t you rather help yourself?” he remarked, tapping his chin in calculating thought. His gaze was evaluating you.

“What? I don’t…” you spluttered with desperation.

“Come.”

He took your hand and pulled you up from the floor. His touch was almost burning, or maybe your hands were just that cold from the loss of blood. A consuming inferno of bright flames swallowed you both and instantly you reappeared in an entirely different place.

The warm air and the general, faint smell of fire and sulphur ravaged your senses. Avernus.

“The House of Hope. Where the tired come to rest, and the famished come to feed,” the stranger presented dramatically with a flourish motion of his arms – an invitation for you to look around at all the lavish glamour. Paintings of devils hung on the walls and the large fireplace was lit with the most mesmerising, hungry fire you had ever seen. A massive table right next to you was loaded with mouth-watering delicacies and you were overwhelmingly reminded how hungry and weak you were.

Your legs were shaking and every muscle in your body ached, resisting the notion of staying up on your feet. Every breath now made your lungs sizzle, the air burning on its way inside.

“So you’re a devil?” you asked feebly.

The stranger crooked a smile at your quick wit and answered: “Raphael. Very much at your service.”

A devil – out of all the names of the gods you had taken in vain, this was the one to save you. The irony stung deep.

“Forgive me that I don’t drop a curtsy. I’m feeling so…” you fumbled to find the proper word and focused your energy on staying on your feet. You glanced down and realised that you had already smudged the floor with blood and dirt.

Raphael noticed the stains too and snapped his fingers.

Immediately, you felt better and stopped gripping the table edge, knuckles white. Air poured effortlessly into your lungs without any pain and although shaky, you felt that you could stand properly. Your posture eased.

“Oh, thank you,” you murmured in surprise, but at the same time your pulse started quickening. As little as you knew of devils, you knew for a fact that they didn’t give anything for free.

“You’re welcome.” Raphael bowed lightly and pulled a chair for you.

“Please, sit, partake. You and I have much to discuss,” he mused and when you were comfortably seated, he circled around to the other side of the table.

Now healed, you were positively ravenous. You hesitated only a second before starting to fill your plate with pork sausages and honey-sauteed vegetables. Raphael’s crooked smile deepened, but he only watched, evaluating.

“How did you find me?” you asked, when the silence began feeling too oppressive.

Raphael tilted his head to the side, gauging your refreshingly lame reaction to the revelation of his nature. He replied: “That delicious life or death predicament you were in did the knocking, but you, my dear, were the one to push the door open.”

You swallowed a mouthful of food. “I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything.”

Raphael hid his smile, which felt even worse than seeing it widen. He leaned over the table on his elbows, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers.

“Oh, but you did. You wanted to survive. You craved the power to burn those insignificant worms,” he explained with an intensive look in his eyes. Then he leaned back in his seat and continued: “Unless, you’re saying there has been a mistake? I can send you back with an apology.”

“No!” you interjected.

The devil’s eyes glinted. With a nonchalant wave of his hand, a piece of parchment manifested into the air. Red letters in the language of the Hells were seared on the surface. A quill hovered next to it.

Your pulse quickened again as comprehension snaked its tendrils around you: You had prayed to give anything to save yourself. Anything, including your very soul as if it were a mere trinket to be traded off. But, what else was it in this transaction between life and death? You would lose both your life and soul, if you didn’t take the deal. A soul didn’t do much good for you if you were dead already.

“Tell me, what is your name, mortal?” Raphael asked.

“Tav.”

“Well then, Tav. Let’s bargain,” said the devil in the most complacent tone you had ever heard. “I can grant you the ability to manifest my power. The power to tear through your enemies, to guile the unworthy and cull the weak – the power to survive.”

You set the utensils down and drew in a shaky breath. “You want my soul?”

Raphael cocked a brow, entertained, and leaned over the table, closer to you. He said: “Lest you have something else to offer for your salvation, but I promise you this: I take good care of my clients.”

You stared right into the chestnut brown eyes of the human facade of the devil, who was after your very soul.

And nodded slowly.

“I accept,” you said simply, forcing your tone even. “We can go over the details after I’ve killed the fuckers.”

The devil barked a laugh.

“Excellent.”

You signed off the contract for your soul. It would take a long time until the gravity of what you had just done would settle in. In the meanwhile, you would enjoy the patronage of Raphael and the benefits of the warlock pact.

In a swirl of flames, you were returned to the wreck of the nautiloid ship, right at the feet of the looting mob.

“She’s here!”

“Indeed I am,” you snarled as infernal energy crackled and surged on your palm.

There would be only cinders left when you were through with them.

[imasadboi]

Raise The Stakes

Next

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CW: Blood, violence, stalking, kidnapping, death, vampirism, sex, blood drinking, drugging (with blood), ooc Leon, cutting (palm), (more to be added as series goes on).

Summary: Leon, a vampire turned against his will, believes he can get everything he lost through you. He will have you, not even your fiancé would deter him.

Word Count: 1,257

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Hi, this will be my first fully fledged series. I've been working hard on this for this past month and intend to do weekly uploads. (If not weekly, then bi-weekly!) I hope you enjoy and look forward to future chapters. And don't ask for pings, please. Simply follow my blog to get future updates.

That night still rings in his mind like discordant notes—the night he was turned. His gums ache and his hands clench into tight fists as the memory threatens to replay in detail. All it took for his family to be lost to the hands of Death was a rogue vampire, a spawn of the Devil. By the cruel hands of fate, he was spared and awoke to the grim sight of his mother’s throat torn to shreds and bloodied. His father had his head torn from his body, the bone sticking out from the gaping wound. His younger sister’s body was nowhere to be found—at first. It wasn’t even a short walk down the road until he saw the way that beast had torn his beloved sister’s dress apart before doing the same to her mortal flesh. He cried out in agony at what had befallen his poor family.

Worst of all, the scent of iron hung cloyingly in the air. His new hunger was made known to him in brutal fashion. His mind was befuddled, as both human and beastly instincts fought to dominate his actions. As his new instincts took over, his nails elongated almost painfully from the roots. His canines grew longer causing his gums to chafe from the rapid growth. Senses heightened and everything became too much at once; The thought to give in crossed his mind at that moment.

But the one thing that held him true despite his entire being changing; rage. Pure, unadulterated rage. Whether God had decided to show him mercy that night or not, it was due to this feeling that kept him tethered to his humanity. Even through unabating hunger and lines of drool slipping down his chin, he steadily buried each family member. As he sought to repair the wreckage of his family home, he noticed the silver chain that lay on the floor, its only pendant, a dainty cross. His fingers burned upon contact, before he ripped a piece of cloth from his already torn shirt and picked it up. He held it close to him for a moment before pocketing it. He wouldn’t rest until that vampire had paid for what he’d done.

Leon regains his bearings as he’s finally released from the memories of his past. From his palms, rivulets of blood flow freely. He quickly rids himself of his tight grip, nails no longer digging into soft flesh. He grimaces at how he’s let 100 years slip by without any progress. Sure, he’s hunted down other vampires yet the one he looks for never seems to be around. He shakes his head in frustration, his obsession beginning to crawl back into his mind like a decrepit parasite when a wave of nausea washes over him. Hunger. How long ago did he feed? He can’t recall. Time no longer ties him to this plane of existence. What would be the point in keeping track of the seasons, of the sun rising and falling when he can no longer feel its rays on his skin—skin that’s become paler with each passing day.

He grimaces how foreign his thoughts have become, how less human he’s become. But now’s not the time to be thinking of his ever fading humanity. He needs to eat. All he really needs is himself, so he gets up from the throne he’s sat on. He dusts off imaginary dirt from his lap and sets off to find yet another poor animal to claim as his victim. If there was one thing he’d swore never to do was feed on a human. 

Can’t really uphold that promise if I keep starving myself, he thinks. I wonder if it’ll be wolves or unsuspecting deer on the menu tonight. 

Finally out of the castle—one that was so graciously empty—his eyes linger onto the forest that lies ahead. Just as he’s about to take a step, he hears hushed voices. Part of him feels annoyed that someone’s decided trespassing was a suitable nighttime activity but his curiosity also gets the best of him. He makes his way towards the voices, keeping to the shadows. 

“We really shouldn’t be out here,” a voice says quietly, yet with the night so hushed, they might as well have been yelling. 

“We’ll be fine, you know you don’t have to be scared with me around, right?”

Leon hears the hesitance in the other’s voice just before they speak, “I know but there’s been more animal attacks as of lately. I don’t want anything bad to happen.”

“You have such an imagination, but that’s what I’ve always liked about you. I didn’t want us to miss this chance to be together with all the wedding planning that’s been going on. I’ve missed you. Missed us being alone together.”

Leon feels a pang of jealousy as his confliction has yet again robbed him of something so precious. Something he as a vampire will never get to have again. He moves to get a closer look at the couple before him when he carelessly steps on a layward branch. He holds his breath, more  out of habit than anything, as he quickly moves to obscure himself.

“Did you hear that?” The first voice asks.

“Hear what?” Leon hopes the second person might convince the both of them to continue with their walk but the first voice pipes in again.

“Is anybody there?” Leon decides to keep quiet, hoping they both lose interest.

“See, it was nothing, let’s just keep walking. We only have so much time before we have to head back.”

Leon listens to the pair of footsteps walk away but that ache in his chest doesn’t seem to go away.

Would it really be so bad to keep an eye on them? Leon deliberates as his feet follow after them, I just have to make sure they stay safe. He doesn’t know what he’s trying to convince himself of, the morality of stalking after a couple or if he’s really doing this with their best interest at heart. 

He follows them for some time, keeping a good few paces behind so as to not arouse suspicion. It’s only when they stop to settle down in the grass does he catch sight of them both. The first he sees is a man, dark-haired and brown-eyed. He’s got a smile on his face as he talks to his partner, you. 

The moon hangs high in the sky and perfectly illuminates your being to Leon. His eyes widen a fraction as he takes in your appearance. The smile you reflect back at your partner tugs at his heart. He can’t help but want it for himself. He’d do anything to have it all for himself. A feeling cements itself in his brain, he had everything he loved taken away from him in an instant. But you, he could have you, right? It doesn’t matter that you’re engaged to be married.

You would be his, no matter what it took. But acting too hastily is ill-advised, he knows capturing you had to be done with care and planning. And most of all, he had to make sure nothing and no one would get in his way, that included your so-called fiancé.

He memorizes your scent carried over to him by the wind. A slight shiver runs down his spine. He lingers to take one more glance at you before departing. He makes quick work of dinner and walks directly back to his abode. His dead heart beating in anticipation of what’s to come.

[mari-lair]

I'll post the rest of my tbhk wips later in a single post, but since this one is the only "new fic" in my docs, I'll post it separated

title: Again and Again

summary: AU where you can die in boundaries. The plan to rescue Aoi keeps failing and Akane is stuck in a time loop. (Set on chap 84-88)

Warning: Temporary character death and mild gore. Not beta read. Some parts are incompleted.

Pairing: aoikane, (and it is vague enough to be one-sided terukane or teruaoi or both, read it as whichever you want.)

Word count: 6k

Red.

Half of his world was dark red.

Akane felt cold, vaguely aware he was laying in bloody waters, but barely feeling it. It was hard to keep his eyes open. To keep breathing.

Is this his blood…? 

…The demon attack must have opened his chest wound again.

Attack…

Why was he attacked…? Something to do with Aoi-

Aoi rescue.

His eyes widened, lucid once more. His breath hitched, making him cough on the water.

Akane ignored the pain, forcing himself to move. He got on his elbows and looked around, spotting Kou with his head limp, the train wreckage giving enough support for the kid to stay sat while unconscious, blood dripping down his chin. 

He wasn’t moving.

Teru was closer to Akane, the water darker near him than anyone else, face unnaturally pale. It was so different from the confident and untouchable president he knows…

And Aoi…

Where is Aoi?

“I…I won’t forgive you!” Someone yelled, the voice sounded muffled, hard to process. Akane frowned at it, his senses jumbled but able to recognize it as Aoi’s voice. He tried to find her, getting on his elbow much to his body’s protests and coughing harshly, hurting his throat. He held his bleeding chest and sought her, freezing at the sight of her dangling in the air, a claw on her face, impeaching her from speaking, from breathing.

The tears in her empty eyes as she uselessly tried to punch No.6 hand made Akane push himself back up, needing to do something.

He felt every single part of his body protest but managed to get on his feet, stumbling after one step, but ignoring how his body burned: He needs to keep going. Keep walking. 

She will not be sacrificed.

Not on his watch.

His body disagreed with his conviction, legs shaking after every step “Stop…” He coughed, having difficulty talking “Stop…” He wheezed,  reaching for her, but stumbling to his knees.

He coughed more blood, feeling lightheaded but refusing to lose her. 

 “Aoi…”

She can’t die.

She can’t.

Akane vaguely registered the world tilting as he fell, the bloody boundary waiting for him with open arms.

.

Akane woke up in total darkness, devoid of any pain.

“Aoi!” He yelled loud enough to hurt his throat, adrenalin making him jump into action, caught off guard by the overly soft surface under his feet and losing balance the second something got tangled on his leg.

Akane fell down, slamming his chest on wood floorboards. The fall hurt his ribs, but he ignored the pain.

“Fuck, where am I…?” He groaned, unable to get the image of Aoi falling unconscious off his head, anxious to be taken who knows where while she was in danger.

Was he still on the far shore? This place is completely dry and overly quiet. He is alone.

Akane sweated, trying to think more rationally to find clues, realizing he was in his human body, wearing pajamas. What got tangled in his feet was his blanket, and the place he fell from is a bed: This is his bedroom.

Akane froze, feeling strange at the realization.

Was everything just a nightmare?

(But it felt so real…)

He grabbed his phone, ignoring the harsh light and checking the time: It was 11:33 pm, a day before their rescue mission. 

(So it really was just a nightmare…? It can’t be. He never had such a lucid dream before, much less one that he could remember in detail…)

He tried to switch to his supernatural body to confirm there weren’t any new injuries, and it was all a dream, but he couldn’t use his power.

Right. The severance. He has no way to know.

But he can’t deny he is in his room, and the phone says it’s too early to rescue Aoi. 

Akane sighed in relief, getting back to bed and running a hand through his hair: What rotten timing to get nightmares, he needs to be well rested for tomorrow, working at full capacity.

He needs a good night’s rest. He can’t waste time thinking about Aoi’s empty eyes and the blood on his body. Not now, when he’ll have to face reality so soon.

Akane dragged the covers over himself, falling on his small pillow and staring at the ceiling. Once his adrenaline crashed, he felt exhausted, so he closed his eyes, determined to make their real rescue mission not turn out like that.

.

He couldn’t sleep, thinking of his nightmare, growing far too restless about what would await them.

He got out to make himself tea at two in the morning, forcing himself to get sleep. If he failed Aoi because he was too tired to work properly he would never forgive himself.

. 

Akane made sure to pack everything, lanterns, coats, water, keeping it all neatly tucked in his camping backpack. He hesitated for a second but gritted his teeth and packed supplies unrelated to their mission, a few clothes, water, sweets, a blanket, games: Little things to cheer up Aoi.

If she turns out to be beyond saving, Akane will stay with her. She will disapprove, sweet as she is, but Akane has known her since they were kids, he knows she hates being alone, so he won't leave her alone. (Not again).

There was a sense of deja vu as he packed, but it was mostly exasperating. His nightmare just had to start in a mundane and realistic way, didn’t it? Now it feels like he had packed everything before.

.

Akane wanted to reach the red house at 10 am on the dot, as planned, but the road, which he had never taken before, felt oddly familiar.

Too familiar.

It’s unsettling.

Akane ended up running, hating how everything was like it had been in his dreams, and accidentally reaching the burned-down house before their agreed time. 

The red house remains were identical to his nightmares (memories?) too. 

…If his dreams really reflect reality the well connecting to the Far Shore would be on the left, and it would be too dark to see the bottom even with dad’s camping lantern.

Akane sweated when he truly found a cursed well to his left, turning on his lantern and seeing only darkness.

He held on tighter to his backpack strap, not liking whatever was happening. Did he see the future? But that felt so real, so lucid, if he focus he can still feel the phantom pain in his body, just like he had when his chest was pierced.

Maybe he went back in time? But that’s impossible, even Kako, the supernatural in charge of the past can’t rewind the entire world.

But there is coincidence and then there is… whatever is happening.

Will he find that same train if he jumps now? 

(He doesn’t know if he wants to.)

“Aoi?” A familiar voice  startled Akane out of it.

Akane turned towards Teru, half expecting the president to be soaked in blood, his face sickly pale, but he was as healthy as always, slightly amused “Impatient, aren’t we?”

“President,” Akane said instead of answering, feeling a lump in his throat, noticing Kou and Nene were also here, burning with determination, unaware of what awaited them.

Akane is pretty sure his nightmare wasn’t a nightmare at all, but to erase any remaining doubts, he asked Teru “We are already here, can you tell me what is inside the shrine box?”

“Ah, the box! Of course.” Teru smiled innocently, not sensing Akane’s unease as he messed with his bag “I brought it with me, take a look!”

Teru showed everyone a familiar demon hand with a finger missing.

Kou and Nene yelped in shock and disgust, Akane eyes widened, shaken for a completely different reason.

Teru's explanation about Demons turned into a buzz. 

(He heard it before)

“I put it on the pizza last night!” Teru finished with a proud aura.

Akane laughed harshly, feeling overwhelmed.

Does that means everything will happen again? Aoi almost being eaten in her wagon. Nene escape with No.7. The brothers fight. No.6 attack…

It had all been real.

He got back in time.

“What the fuck.” He cursed, thankful he got another chance but he feels so unprepared, what can he do now?

“Don’t make such a sullen face” Teru’s eyes crinkled, “The pizza was delicious wasn’t it?”

Ah yes, the pizza “A treat.”

Akane was so distracted, he got tripped by Teru when he went to check the well again, falling down.

“You asshole!” Akane yelled as he fell, hitting the water with a huff, the impact, and the familiar landscape clearing his mind.

He was given a second chance to save Aoi.

He got up, shaking the water off his hair and activated his supernatural form, determined to make the most of it.

.

Everything worked fine before, he just have to destroy No.6

He had stopped his time before. He can stop his time now too, make Teru slash him in two.

Akane paused, remembering Teru got taken out because of some sibling squabble with Kou.

Ugh, they have no time for this.

"President," Akane said after punching a supernatural in the face "this mission is important."

Teru seemed confused by his declaration, tying a monster’s snout shut with his beads "I am aware."

"So you better take it seriously." Akane kicked the top of another supernatural, slamming their face on the ground "Don't fight with Minamoto kouhai until we are back in the Near Shore with Aoi-chan"

]Teru slashed a supernatural’s chest, looking at him weirdly “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Not even if he tries to protect No.7?”

Teru paused, though thankfully, he wasn’t distracted enough to slow down his attacks. “He won’t, he promised to take responsibility if No.7 put a student in harm's way.” Teru said with the confidence of someone that lives with Kou, and has known the boy his whole life. “Kou doesn’t break his promises.”

“But if he does? We both know how he gets with No.7,” Akane insisted, sure he is smarter than that “There is a chance. A big one.”

Teru's face darkened, “He wouldn’t.” but he lost most of his confidence, quickly growing exasperated. He usually listens to Akane, and he is smart enough to see Kou is too loose with Hanako.

“...If he does I’ll lecture him later. After we are back on the far shore.”

Good, wonderful.

.

When No.7 showed up, Akane did not fall for his taunts, snarling when he said Aoi was already gobbled up, and going ahead, telling Teru to take care of him.

He did not slow down when the school wonder tried to attack him, aware Teru would stop him.

Akane rushed through the wagons, already knowing where Aoi will be. He run without mercy for anyone that got in his way, barging in while Aoi was under a blanket, sneaking around as best she could. She looked like a fairy, freezing once she stepped on a supernatural’s tail.

Akane felt his heart beat faster, stopping the time of everyone beside Aoi.

The one-eyed cheetah supernatural froze in time before it could pull the blanket off her head and Akane immediately crouched to her level.

Aoi blinked, confused.

He held her shoulder, her beautiful eyes were wide with disbelief, tangible. When he cupped her cheeks, he could reach her, she blushed a bit, her hands cracking from staying here too long, but not gone yet. “Akane-kun…?”

He just stared at her, trying not to overlap her image with the fresh memory of her limp body, her beautiful eyes empty, full of despair tears, and no oxygen.

“Aoi-chan” His eye stung, holding her close, and feeling her cracking hand hold onto his clock keeper cloak “I’m glad you’re okay.”

This time he’ll protect her.

He’ll keep her safe.

.

Aoi didn’t say anything, resting her forehead on his chest.

“Come on” He sniffed, holding her hand and giving her a reassuring smile, the ticking clock of his power limit not as important as Aoi’s fear “Let’s go home.”

Aoi nodded, following him as if in a trance.

“Akane-kun…” She said.

He turned to her, hyperaware they are on a tight schedule but willing to slow down for a bit for her.

Aoi kept staring at him, shaking her head with a small blush.

Akane softened, squeezing her hand.

.

“Not like that! You never let me do anything-” Kou’s voice, angry and hurt, made Akane’s mood drop, getting out of the train to see the two idiot fighting.

For fucks sake.

“Break it up!!” Akane yelled, running at them with Aoi following behind “What’s wrong with you two?!”

The bros tensed up, letting go of each other, the atmosphere between them rancid.

Akane glared at Teru “You said you wouldn’t start a fight!”

Teru just clenched his fists and looked away, clearly hiding something. 

“You better have a good reason to start this nonsense” He sighed in exasperation, grabbing Teru’s wrist when he went to sheath his sword “Don’t.”

Teru tensed up, his pulse fast, still angry about whatever happened with Kou, and being harsher than usual when slapping Akane’s hand away.

Thankfully he didn’t guard his sword, trusting Akane to give him an explanation.

“We’ll still need to fight, No.6 will show up”

Teru seemed confused, but after some thought he got on guard, agreeing “He is the guardian of the Kanagis”

“And a dangerous piece of- SHIT!”

Akane noticed the shadow on the water right away, well aware if their best fighter goes down so soon they won’t survive, and acting before he could think. He grabbed the back of Kou’s shirt and threw him as far away as he could. He may have panicked a bit, making Kou fly and slam his back on the train.

Attacking would be foolish, and there was no time to protect himself or stop time, so running it was. No matter how much he dislikes the alternative.

His arm still got hit, ripping a good chunk of his sleeves and drawing blood, but thankfully it wasn’t deep.

Still sting like a bitch though.

Kou groaned at the impact, sounding distressed for him “Aoi-senpai!”

“I’m fine!” Akane lied, not taking his eyes away from the towering demon reaching for him. 

He is scared, but he can’t let him win. For Aoi’s life, and the Minamotos’ as well, and awkwardly stumbled backyard, needing to get.

Teru got in front of him, barely positioning his sword in time to protect himself when No.6 attacked.

Right.

With Teru here, he has some time.

He grabbed his pocket watch, fumbling with it and keeping a close eye on the demon.

He can’t waste this second chance.

“I’ll take care of Kouhai, focus on the demon president!” Akane ordered, glancing at his watch arrow which moved far too slowly. Always taking a few tics to freeze time “I need you to buy me time.”

tic tock

Come on!

“I won’t let you stop time, boy.” The demon said, zooming on him with inhuman speed. He remembers very well when Akane had kicked his face. 

tic tok

Almost there!

“Don’t be so hasty.” Teru intercepted the demon's strike, and blocked his way with a strained smile. The blow made him stumble back but he didn’t take his eyes off No.6, black lightning surrounding his sword. 

Akane smirked at the solid defense, kicking a centipede and hissed in pain when another one bit his arm, seemingly coming from nowhere.

tic tok

Another centipede bit his wrist.

His clock fell.

After three more bites, Akane too, fell.

.

Teru wasn’t moving, blood raining down from his shoulder, painting the water red at an alarming speed

That’s a lot of blood.

The cut was far too close to his neck. Akane tried to check it, uneasy enough by how vulnerable the usually high and mighty exorcist looked, to seek a pulse, hoping he was better than he looked.

Akane touched something that wasn’t skin. Teru’s head tilting at an unnatural angle at his touch, nearly coming off.

Akane stared without fully processing the sight of thorn muscles and bloody bone. 

He felt bile in his throat, the way his stomach twisted aggravating his injuries.

He never witnessed death before. 

(Not like this-)

“Presi-” He vomited blood, turning away so it didn’t get on Teru’s (corpse) face. His vision was shaky, his ears ringing from the drum of his heart.

There was a shadow over him, and when he looked up, No.6 claws sunk in his face.

.

Akane woke up with a gasp, back to being uninjured in the dark.

Back to his bedroom.

(back in time)

He took a deep breath, looking for his phone and frowning at the 12:01 pm in it. Great, so the time he gets back to isn’t stable.

He looked at the ceiling unable to sleep now that he know it’s real. 

.

Akane didn’t pack anything. He already knows what he is dealing with, and he doesn’t need weight.

.

“Before we go, I need to make something clear” Akane looked at Kou and Teru, making sure to not stare at Teru for long, at risk of tainting his face with the bloody and cracked neck of his memory, when ordering “Don’t fight.”

the brothers looked at him weirdly. “We won’t.”

“I am serious, I don’t care what happens, fight later.”

“We won’t fight Aoi,” Teru said, half confused, half amused.

“We don’t really fight” Kou agreed.

‘Then what the fuck did I have to break twice?’ Akane thought with some annoyance. “Not even if he helps No.7 out”

“I won’t-”

“You will” He narrowed his eyes at the bad liar.

“Aoi. Stop. I know you're restless but this is paranoia.”

Akane narrowed his eyes, annoyed.

“Is not paranoia bastard, I am from the future. You two will get in a sibling fight that will get us all killed” Akane admitted, “So just don’t, I don’t care how important the argument turn out to be, it isn’t worth dying for”

Teru blinked slowly.

Kou and Nene, who knew he was right about them aiming to safe Hanako, and already witnessed some time nonsense at the red house, seemed wary.

Teru frowned “What do you mean everyone will die”

“No.6 will come.”

“No.6?”

“Yes!” He snapped, “and we are wasting time!”

.

His yelling at everyone about the future way took too long.

When he reached Aoi’s compartment she was already eaten: The blood on a tall supernatural fangs and the abandoned flowers that used to adorn her hair the only signs she had been here at all.

“No…” Akane fell to his knee, holding to the destroyed flower on the ground, something inside breaking.

When the supernaturals attacked him, he didn’t defend himself.

.

Akane woke up with tears in his eyes.

His dread increased at the neon 12:31 pm on his phone.

…He can’t be sure if this is a pattern yet, going back exactly half an hour two times in a row can be a coincidence, but it does mean for sure that he is getting less time back with each attempt.

He clenched his fists.

.

He jumped over Teru's leg when the asshole tried to trip him down the well. Landing on the boundary with no problem.

.

Akane punched the supernatural that had been on the edge of eating Aoi with no mercy, the memory of bloody fangs making his heart beat way too fast, and held Aoi tight, carrying her like a princess.

The weight strained his pierced chest, but he does not care.

He needs to get out of here, and he need to be quick.

He started running, faster and faster, slamming through the closed door.

Aoi held on tight to his shirt, flinching when he kicked a door off its hinges “...Akane-kun?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you” Akane felt genuine remorse, not wanting to make things worse, but he can’t waste time “Everything will be fine.” it has to, this time please  “we need to find Minamoto senpai quickly, this place is dangerous.”

Aoi nodded slowly.

.

Akane kept running, spotting Kou and Teru.

“...Her side.” Teru said, putting a hand to cover his face, his voice far too controlled to not be angry “On her side.”

He could sense an explosion forming, Teru's voice growing cold “Quit being a hero-”

“I got Aoi-chan!” Akane cut him off, having not seen this part of their fight, and frankly? He doesn’t care. He hope his presence will be enough to make the idiots remember their situation “I got Aoi-chan!”

Teru froze at his voice, he seemed to be going through a crisis, his hand still hiding his face. 

“Minamoto-kouhai, president. I have” knowledge of the future “a really bad feeling, we need to get out!” He glared, no time for explanations, no time for anything “Now.”

“...Right.” Teru said, taking his hand off his face, assuming the usual leader position, but noticeably a bit off  “Right.” He repeated, as if reminding himself of the situation “...Yashiro-san run off with No.7. We need to get her back before leaving, where did she go?”

Kou frowned.

Akane felt dread “...You did mark a meeting place, didn’t you Minamoto-Kouhai?”

“No… She just asked me to distract Teru-nii.” Kou admitted, oblivious to the way his words made Teru agitated, holding on tighter to his sword “She never told me where she would go.”

“So you just let her run away, with the boy she like, in the far shore,” Akane frowned, feeling a familiar disconnect with Nene. He can give her the benefit of doubt, remember that she is not the brightest girl around, and assume she just forgot to plan that.

But he saw how big her backpack is, how much she planned. And how much she trusts that slimy ghost.

He have no doubts, that boy crazy idiot wanted to throw her life away to stay with him, she didn’t plan on returning.

Damn it, he can’t let that happen.

“It seems she is not on your side.” Teru told Kou, his tone cold, uncharacteristically petty.

Kou flinched, confused but clearly hurt.

Akane looked at the president, realizing with some shock that Teru was trying to hurt Kou. What the fuck, why would he do this? He values Kou, he heard way too much worrying and gushing about his ‘dear siblings’ to not know Teru wants him to be happy, so this was completely out of line, nonsensical. “What is wrong with you?”

Teru snarled at him, glancing at Aoi and holding back what he wanted to say, looking away from them.

“...You’re acting weird.” Kou said

Aoi tugged his collar, making Akane look down at her, softening his voice “What’s wrong?”

She still looked in a state of shock, hardly believing she was rescued for real and this is not a dream, but she managed to ask “...Nene-chan is here too?”

Akane softened his features, feeling a pang in his chest.

Aoi wants to see Nene again, and have her friend with her. Aoi wants to apologize. She would never accept Nene dying in her place.

“Yes,” Kou smiled, his eyes looked too tired for to fool anyone “She should be back soon!”

‘Soon’ isn’t good enough, they can’t stay here like sitting ducks for No.6.

Akane isn’t so sure she’ll come back at all.

 It made him angry.

…Does love blind her that much? How can she be so ready to die, and make Aoi lose one of her very few friends, without telling her about it? Did she just assume this is what Aoi would have preferred? Did she learn nothing from Hanako's actions? 

(Or did she trust Akane? Does she believe he and the president could handle this?)

Akane sweated. He can’t leave Nene here.

But he doesn’t know if they have enough time to lose searching for her.

At any moment No.6 will-

Akane's eyes widened at the shadow in the water “Kouhai!” the shadows quickly started gaining form, a black claw aiming for Kou’s face “Watch out-”

Teru pushed Kou away, able to land a blow since his sword was unsheathed, but not able to dodge.

His shoulder started bleeding heavily.

No.6 didn’t bat an eye at the slash on his own chest, picking Minamoto with a single hand and absently touching his bleeding chest, unimpressed “This blade used to be worth of fear” He threw Teru to the side, painting the boundary water red “Your clan have grown weak.”

Akane eyes widened at the familiar situation.

Something in his chest tightened, not sure if it was the pain of another failure, this sickening deja vu, or Aoi's terrified grasp on his vest-

No.6 will-

(kill everyone again)

When he approached Akane already expected the worst, he can’t win he can’t win he can’t win

Not like this.

Not with Aoi-

The claw came his way and Akane turned his back towards the danger, shielding Aoi.

Aoi eyes widened.

“Is okay-” He coughed, feeling his heart squeeze at the way he dirtied her face with blood. At the fearful tears on her pale face “I-” He held her arm, as gently as he could, hating that he couldn’t stop the shaking “I’ll save… you. I love you.”

It was selfish.

Aoi told him she doesn’t like when he praises her too much. He know she doesn’t want to hear it.

But he watched her be taken so many times now and he can’t… He can’t let her go again. He doesn’t want her to get hurt, he doesn’t want to see her scared like and be unable to comfort her.

He want to be able to say it again. 

Aoi trembled, holding his cloak with all her strength, voice shaky, so quiet  “D-Don’t…”

Akane’s attempt to reassure her this is fine, it looks worse than it feels, turned into a wheeze, feeling the blood in the back of his throat, and wanting to use his arm as a tissue, to make sure Aoi didn’t get dirtier, but it made him lose balance. Thankfully able to fall on his side instead of fully crushing Aoi.

‘Sorry, I got you dirty’ He thought, but couldn’t find his voice, his vision getting blurry. ‘Sorry for doing this my way Aoi-chan’

“So you love her.” No.6 said with something strange in his tone, his mostly neutral face gaining a slight frown. When he picked Akane up, his brain bouncing at the abrupt movement, the demon said something Akane couldn’t fully register, he think it’s something about being wise…? or a wife? but he didn’t care, he used his dying focus on Aoi.

Aoi, who was glaring at No.6 despite her clear fear. Aoi, got up in wobbly legs but didn’t run.

She want to run, he knows Aoi is always running away, carrying herself with the pride of someone that is sure she will win any conflict but never acting.

(is so cute)

“Let..” She gulped “Let him go!”

He could see the way she raised her bell, hating the despair on her face, the way she felt cornered, but feeling pride when she managed to create a lightning. Something about them made No.6 angry throwing Akane on the train debris with too much strength.

It was far more brutal than the usual ways No.6 killed him. 

(It hurt way less to die quickly, 

Aoi really is amazing, being the one to help him again)

.

Another loop, another brother's argument.

“This isn’t about No.7 escaping is it?” Akane sighed, having witness this again and again and again. Tired of it.

They didn’t reply.

Kou looked confused so whatever happened is probably Teru’s misunderstanding a situation? Akane can’t imagine the kid wanting to hurt someone he loves and then acting like it wasn’t his problem.

“President,” Akane said, already coming to terms that this loop is ruined so he might as well get info out of it. “What bothered you? If it’s important say it.” He thought about Aoi, adding a sad “Before is too late”

Only after Kou was a bit away, did Teru told him “...He said he is on Nene’s side.”

Akane waited for more but more did not come.

He crossed his arms, like an impatient parent “That's it?? Why do you care, we knew he would go after her, he is soft on supernaturals is not like he hates you”

Teru clenched his fists.

oh

“...Do you really think he hates you?” Akane raised his brows “Or are you mad someone is more important than you to him now?"

“Aoi.” He said coldly, far too angry for the accusation to not have hit.

He can't believe it.

He died for this?

"You're pathetic " He scoffed, "Oi Kouhai, come tell the president you still like him so he stop being an idio-"

.

Another failure.

Again and again and again and again.

.

Akane stared at his bedroom ceiling. Somewhat detached from experiencing immense pain and switching to numbness.

4:32 am

He is running out of time.

.

Teru smirked with controlled hatred at No.7  “It seems like we found you before her. You-”

“No.7” Akana cut Teru off, getting in front of the president and extending a hand to the wagon exit “Go help Aoi-chan. I’ll take care of him”

Hanako and Teru looked at him weirdly.

“...You want me to save Akane-san?” Teru frowned.

‘No. I want to be the one by her side. But No.7 is the one I need to destroy to stop this loop. If everyone dies one more time, I’ll lose it.’

“I trust you.” Akane said, which he never wanted to say out loud cause the boy is aggravating and conceived enough as it is, but it is true and he doesn’t have time “Go get her, I’ll catch up to you soon.”

“I am afraid it doesn’t matter who goes, is too late,” Hanako said, lying through his teeth without a care “She got gobbled up-”

Akane jumped on him, missing the punch “Shut up, ” he turned to teru “and you, get out of here!”

“You’re not an exorcist,” Teru protested “You can’t destroy his sou-”

“I can do plenty of damage” Aka snapped, not in the mood to have a staring contest “Didn’t you say you were going to save Aoi-chan? Go!”

Teru seemed like he really wanted to argue, but he reluctantly rushed to Aoi. Finally.

Akane knew the idiot would get the job done, so he focused on stopping Hanako, grabbing the back of his shirt when he jumped towards Teru and slamming him on the ground.

Hanako groaned at the impact, getting back on his feet.

“I thought you would go after your dear Aoi”

“You don’t know shit” Akane snaps with venom, all his anger boiling, having no qualms about using this slimy bastard as a target.

If he didn’t try to get Nene lifespan back, Aoi wouldn’t be (dead) here.

Akane snarled and used his full strenght, getting a clean hit on his face and ignoring how Hanako aimed for his pierced chest, used to pain after all his deaths.

If he didn’t exist none of this would be happening.

He hit harder, the sting in his knuckles growing numb after a while.

.

“Senpai!” Kou yelled, grabbing his elbow with fear in his eyes “Stop-”

Akane immediately used his powers to stop his time, his anger disappearing when he realized how bloody his fists look, caking his watch glass with blood.

Ah.

He stared at every frozen person in the wagon, only two of which had their time stoped.

Maybe Teru had been wrong about him not being able to destroy someone’s soul.

he feels sick

(he felt relief, finally, finally, the culprit is dead.)

.

Teru got back holding Aoi on his back, talking about who knows what with a small blush on his cheeks when she rested her chin on his shoulder.

there was tiny dropped of supernatural blood on her kimono and his jacket.

(Akane supposes it would be hard to get a clean rescue when Aoi was surrounded.)

Akane smiled a little, wanting to hold Aoi again, but resisting the urge, feeling a twist in his heart at the wide look in her eyes. The way it turned into horror when she saw No.7 breaking body.

Teru narrowed eyes, his silence making Akane want to scream.

"You would do the same," Akane said coldly.

.

Teru was holding Aoi when No.6 attacked. Akane protected him by taking the hit. Any worry he may feel numb now.

.

Akane woke up

His dread increased at the neon 5am on his phone.

…Shit.

“I’ll need your help.,” Akane said

Nene was startled “My help…?”

“Yes, remember our team up Yashiro-san.” Akane said, hoping he didn’t sound as agitated as he felt “I just realized how you can help.”

Akane didn’t say that he trust her this time, he doesn’t like to lie.

He understands they are not on the same mentality, and that no matter how much Nene values Aoi, she will always prioritize Hanako. Even when the ghost ignores her own wishes, even when her dear friend is in danger.

…He forgives her.

Loves make you blind, he can understand that. 

Akane hasn’t thought about Nene when Aoi dropped her in No.6’s trash with No.7 because he knows that sleazy ghost would do everything to protect her. Nene likely knew he would do everything to protect Aoi, so while it may leave a bad taste in his mouth, he can understand Nene abandoning her friend for her crush.

She had no idea everyone will die when she runs away.

(That Akane would fail to protect anyone. Again, and again, and again.)

He could accept it.

Had accepted many times.

But he won’t do it again, he needs Teru’s and Kou’s fight to not happen, they can discuss whatever issue they have later, when it doesn’t cost their lives. For that, he needs to make Nene change her plans with Kou and Hanako.

“I want you to look for Aoi-chan with Me.”

“Aoi-chan…” Nene frowned “I… I can’t.”

“The severance will be broken after we rescue her.” He pause, looking at teru for confirmation, who nodded “You can go see No.7 after,”

"but-"

.

“Do you have more bells?”

“Please, for Aoi!”

.

Teru tried to trip him down the well.

As he does every. Fucking. Time.

Akane was still angry about his stupid fight with his brother, still angry at the entire situation, so he sidestepped Teru’s leg, pushing him down the well. Teru was caught off guard, tripping and instinctively grabbing the back of Akane’s shirt for support, forcing him to fall down too.

He vaguely saw Nene and Kou peek into the well with wary looks before darkness surrounded him and he was teleported to the train.

Akane fell on top of Teru, glaring at him.

“You pushed me” Teru frowned, offended.

“You” already tripped me again and again, shut up “tried first”

.

“S-senpai.” Kou eyes widened, not expecting him to take the hit.

Akane ignored him, snarling at No.6 like a wild animal and holding his pocket watch with both hands, clinging to it until his fingers grew numb. He will make his time stop even if it kill him.

No.6 tried to cut his hands off, to punch a hole through his stomach, but Akane held through the pain, intending to laugh at No.6 startled face, feeling a hint of smug satisfaction to once, just once, catch the demon off guard, but only coughing instead.

Still, the taste of blood didn’t spoil his mood.

It was too late for the demon, he got what he wanted.

His clock ticked: No.6 time stopped.

His plan worked.

“Aoi!” Teru paled, the way he stared at the rain of blood by Akane’s feet was bitterly familiar, but he had no sympathies to spare. Why was Teru just standing there? No.6 time was stopped, he can finally take him down.

‘We only have five minutes, hurry up’ He tried to warn but it come of as “Fiv…” He coughed “Min..urry up…!”

Teru cut No.6 down in a snap, taking Akane off his claw.

“Akane-kun!” Aoi yelled. She never yells “Don…”

He blacked out.

He comes back to it vaguely, watching Aoi lean over him with wet eyes.

A part of him felt bad.

Most of him was relieved to see her alive. To see her so expressive.

He tried to brush her hair, reassure her Teru will look after her, nene will be by her side, she still have a lot to live for, but it was hard to talk. His touch left a blood stain on her beautiful hair. He could barely register her holding his hand before briefly blacking out again.

“Switch to…” Teru was yelling something at him. He tried to pay attention to it, vaguely registering words, aware the tone he was using was reserved for important situations, but taking a while to process the message: “Switch to your human form or you’ll die!”

He did as told, coughing at the sudden ease in which he could breath, still feeling extremely weak but no longer too weak to control his own body.

The far shore felt weird in his human form, but he had the strength to hug Aoi now, so he didn’t care.

“Senpai” Kou said, unshed tears in his eyes “...Are you okay?”

“Yes.” He feels a bit itchy, it’s strange, but he feels good.

“Aoi isn’t a Kannagi, his family has no ties with the supernatural.” Teru said, staring too hard at his watch, which seem to have gotten cracked  “Without his contract, he is a normal human.”

“ I do feel… strange, but my hands aren’t being damaged. I am not hurt or anything…” He frowned, turning to Aoi, more relaxed now that the threat was eliminated “Does it hurt?”

Aoi shook her head.

As they walked, Akane felt strange. He looked at the train, feeling something from it. “There may be something on the train, there is this pull-”

Teru grabbed his wrist, his face rigid and cold. Almost… Pained? 

Akane frowned, confused.

“Do not follow this feeling.” Teru ordered, looking around “You are too far away from the near shore, even with the severance stopped, your body will be undone without outside forces” He held tighter “Kou, where is Yashiro-san? We need to get out of here now.”

“I don’t know.”

They never do, maybe he’ll waste a loop just to follow her and drag her back to everyone.

They talked but Akane felt detached from it all, feeling like the phrasing was different but their words were still the same as always. He tunned them out, looking at the train. The weird pull was so strong, but it didn’t feel dangerous. Still, he doesn’t want to die. 

He have so much to leave. He can never leave Aoi alone either, so he sucked up and ignored this overwhelming feeling.

“Akane-kun?” Aoi pushed his hand, “Come on…” She was so openly worried “L-let’s go.”

He broke through the strange feeling, holding Aoi’s hand. “Sorry, let’s go.”

.

As they walked farther away from the train, Akane started to feel nauseous and a bit detached from his body, not feeling Aoi’s delicate hand in his anymore.

He made sure to check it was still there, not wanting to experience leaving her behind again, and seeing her holding on tight.

Ah…

“Where is Minamoto senpai?”

Aoi and Kou exchanged looks “...He went to get Nene-chan he said…” Aoi bit her lips.

“He said you’re too close to death.” Kou informed “You need to get back to the near shore quickly or your human body will come undone,” He sounded tense “Teru nii said your supernatural body is dead since your clock broke. You’re just a normal human now.” 

“Keep walking.” Aoi said, looking at his hand. “We’ll… Talk later.”

‘I am scared you’ll die, I don’t want you to die!’

She really is such a sweet girl.

“I’m not going to die” Akane smiled, resisting the urge to stop to kiss her forehead, no amount of cloudiness able to change his mind “I’ll stay by your side no matter what” He smiled gently, keeping up their rushed pace even if it has grown harder to do so “We still need to play games and go to the zoo.”

Instead of smiling Aoi's eyes widened, openly horrified.

Ah…

Did she change her mind? That’s okay, they don’t have to go to the zoo, they can go whatever she wants, she can change her mind as many times as she wants.

Akane went to brush her hair, clean up some of the lingering blood on it, and realizing his hand was a bit transparent but feeling strangely detached from the observation.

.

Akane woke up in his bedroom.

Akane stared at the dark ceiling, the dreamy detachment of his situation completely gone, lucidity feeling like a slap in the face.

…Why is he here?

Aoi was saved. 

She is safe, the rescue was a success! He won!!

His clock broke, he shouldn’t be back!

But he is

Maybe he always will.

Akane laughed. He laughed loudly, the sound sounding choked, more of a creeping sob.

He grabbed his stupid phone with the bright 5:00 am in it and threw on the ground, breaking it to pieces.

Does dying reset? 

Fine. He won’t die.

.

“...Aoi?” Teru’s voice sounded a bit sleepy “It’s 5am…? Did some-” He yawned “...Did something happ-”

“I’m going to rescue Aoi now,” Akane cut him off, grabbing his house keys “Come with me.”

There was a pause, "… Aoi what are you talking about?” He sounded confused, a bit of wariness creeping into his sleepy voice “We have plans-”

“Your plans won’t work, president.” He slammed his front door close with more force than needed, clenching his phone until his fingers ached “The kids will ruin this mission. Either come with me or I’ll go alone.”

“You won’t be able to get out if you go alone, Aoi listen to yourself. I know you want to get Akane-san soon, but this is foolish.” Teru said, suddenly sounding completely awake. “What has brought this sudden change in-”

“I don’t have time to lose” Akane groaned "I will only wait for you for twenty minutes. Come alone.”

“Aoi-”

He turned the phone off.

[paladinbaby]

on growing up together the second time around

paladinbaby / sense & sensibility, jane austen / @inkstaindusk / emma, jane austen / motherthing, ainslie hogart / @nicholasbraungf / touchtank, quinnie / no choir, florence & the machine / paladinbaby / paladinbaby

[Image Description: Collected images and text.

1: A close up of @beatricexbenedick"s d&d character Shania. Shania is a blue skinned genasi woman with long teal hair and a yellow flower tucked behind her ear. She is looking downwards and smiling.

2: “It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy; - it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”

3: A tumblr post, the original poster has reblogged it and added the second paragraph. “knight/ lord ships are like. what if i would die for you. what if i wanted you to live for me. what if i wanted to touch you but could only be satisfied with being near you. what if i could touch you but only through the safety of our gloves. what if i couldn’t stop thinking about you right next to me. what if i bloodied my hands for you and never looked back at the wreckage. what then.

what if i wasn’t allowed to love you. what if i loved you anyway. what if you knew and i knew but we wouldn’t dare to take that step. what if we made meaningful eye contact as i knelt at your feet and devoted my whole being to you. what if i whispered your name for only you to hear.”

4: “If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.” It’s written out by hand digitally, in the same colour as Shania’s hair.

5: “And maybe not destroying the thing you love, resisting that impulse, is the highest expression of love.”

6: “When you have wanted to be wanted all your life, and then somebody wants you, it feels like cheating. It feels like eating something you’re not supposed to eat, and you eat it too quickly, always afraid of your lover walking and seeing it smeared all over your face, red, the damning evidence of your hunger to be wanted, and nobody wants to love someone too desperate to be loved, so you do your best not to be desperate, you walk in the harsh January sun with your hands freezing in your pockets and try to look like someone who doesn’t want anything too much. Here’s the thing, you want everything so much that you’re like a ravine in the shape of a woman, taking in anything that seems like it could be love.”

7: “He tells me he’s gentle when he wants to be / So I think he wants to be gentle with me”

8: “And there are no grand choirs to sing / No chorus will come in / No ballad will be written / It will be entirely forgotten / And if tomorrow it’s all over / At least we had it for a moment / Oh, darling, things seem so unstable / But for a moment we were able to be still”

9: A screenshot of a Discord message. “she doesn’t have much money when she arrives and she uses it to buy her flowers”

10: A close up of my d&d character Cyndi. Cyndi is a pink skinned tiefling with white scars across her face, and long pink hair tied back with a yellow ribbon. She is looking upwards with her head tilted back and smiling. End ID.]

[wellthebardsdead]

Riiju-Lei: *quietly walking across the bridge into windhelm* gods I forgot how cold home is.

Kaidan: I’m still trying to wrap my head around why you’d willingly live here.

Riiju-Lei: it’s where I was raised. My parents used to own the stables. They’re buried in the hall of the dead here too. It’s home. *walks through the gates immediately seeing another dark elf being harassed* even if it doesn’t feel like it… *walks over wedging himself in front of the woman* What did I tell you about harassing us Rolff…

Rolff: oh look if it isn’t the knife eared lizard boy~ what are you going to do about it outsider? Hit me?

Riiju-Lei: I’ve lived in this city longer than you you your fathers before you. I’ve seen it fall into ruin under ulfrics rule. And I’ve watched countless of my friends die for his senseless war. So I’m warning you now. *folds his arms, his hair floating up like fire as arcane energy crackles through his skin making his birthmark glow like hot metal* Leave us alone. Because your brother won’t be able to save you from me…

Rolff: … *backs off a little*

Riiju-Lei: *glares at him before turning his back to address suvaris*

Rolff: *suddenly goes to hit him while he’s not looking*

Kaidan: *socks him hard across the face knocking him out cold, the claws on his gauntlets ripping half of his skin clean off* Oi! You want to fight like a coward then you deal with me! *shakes his hand cracking his knuckles* Stone fist more like stone head- *glares at Angernor* You want a focking round too ay?

Angernor: *jumps and quickly runs off with his tail in between his legs*

Suvaris: well then. Thank you for that, it’s good to see you again Leilei. We all thought we’d never see you again given your house burned down.

Riiju-Lei: …what?…

Taliesin: *hurries through the gates after getting the horses boarded for the night* right I’m h- *looks at the bloodied and possibly dead nord on the ground and the look of shock on Riiju’s face* …what did I miss?

*a few minutes later*

Riiju-Lei: *staring at a burned wreckage that used to be his home, now blanketed in snow and the remaining brickwork covered in slurs written in soot* …my house… it’s… gone…

Taliesin: I wonder if anyone saw what caused it…

Kaidan: *looking at the slurs* Or who caused it- LeiLei be careful-

Riiju-Lei: *climbing through the wreckage, seemingly emotionless as always as he moves boards and snow out of the way, hoping, praying, then sighing with relief as he finds a small chest*

Taliesin: Leilei?…

Riiju-Lei: *opens the chest up and pulls out an old piece of fabric before draping it around his shoulders like a scarf* I’m okay… *climbs out of the wreckage and sighs*

Kaidan: what’s that? *gestures to the scarf*

Riiju-Lei: the sling my mother brought me to skyrim in… it’s all… all I have left of my parents now…

Taliesin: *gently pats his back* at least… something important survived…

Riiju-Lei: *sighs and nods* I suppose we should go see if the corner club has any rooms… *walks down the street and pauses as a little girl runs out in front of him*

Sofie: mr? Would you like to buy some flowers for your pretty lady?

Riiju-Lei: pretty lady?

Kaidan: *snickers and nudges Taliesin* I think she’s talking about you~

Taliesin: …Well she got the pretty part right at least~

Kaidan: Pffft, if your ego got any higher we’d need a permit to grow it.

Riiju-Lei: *suddenly picks Sofie up putting her on his back* You two are going to have to put your bickering on hold until we get back to whiterun. I have a daughter now, Sofie.

[ainyan]

“I’m sorry, Szah’li.” He paused as they walked along the dusty road leading away from Specula Imperatoris, blinking at the sere landscape ahead of them as he tried to process her words. “I shouldn’t have - I lost my head a little, back there.”

Turning, he eyed Alisaie warily, as if expecting some kind of trick to come from this unexpected show of contrition. “It’s fine,” he replied with characteristic shortness. Seeing the glint in her dark eyes, he shrugged and added, “You pulled it together. You helped those in need first. Everyone was a little overwhelmed by what happened, but you didn’t let it get to you.”

Alisaie made a sound of exasperation. “I know, but I never should have allowed myself to become distracted in the first place. It’s just - it’s Alphinaud,” she finished lamely. “He’s my brother. He’s more than my brother. We’re - we…” She trailed off, struggling to find the words to describe her feelings.

Szah’li let her flounder for a moment, then sighed, closing his eyes. “Alisaie, I understand.”

She shook her head, her attention more on her thoughts than on him. “No. I mean, I know you had siblings - or I guess you did,” she added, frowning to realize she knew almost nothing about him. “But-”

“I had a twin sister, Alisaie,” he interrupted her flatly.

His words fell into silence as she stared at him. He could see the moment she processed his exact phrasing; her eyes grew wide and her face softened. “I… Szah’li.”

He wished he’d kept his mouth shut, but the miqo’te was truly out of the bag, and there was no point in letting the questions linger between them. “Her name was Sajena,” he said quietly. “She was older than me by about a quarter of an hour, and bossy with it. You know,” he added, seeing Alisaie’s mouth twitch. “Irritating and demanding and always fucking right.” It hit him as it always did, with a sudden gut-punch that left him breathless. “Gods, but I miss her.”

Alisaie was silent, and after a moment, Szah’li turned and began walking again. He heard the crunch of boots on gravel behind him and assumed the red mage was following him. Moments later, she darted up beside him, falling into step. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He should have known she’d not let it go. “How could you?” he asked. “I don’t speak of it. To anyone,” he added, hoping she would get the hint.

What was he thinking? “I know. Alphinaud says it’s like pulling teeth learning anything about you.”

Bloody Scions, always so damn curious. Szah’li stopped again, and Alisaie stumbled to a halt beside him, turning to look at his impassive face. “She died,” he said softly, voice emotionless, “when the rest of my family died. They’re all gone, Alisaie. Not just Sajena. So believe me when I tell you I understand what was going through your mind when we saw the tower collapse. The same thing,” he added, reaching out to touch her forehead with one gentle forefinger, “that goes on up here every time you two are separated. Because you’re just like Sajena. A firebrand who loves the hell out of her brother. ‘Jena would have done anything for me, and you’d do anything for Alphinaud. And just as we’d,” he murmured, “do anything for you.”

When she remained silent, staring at him, he lowered his hand, holding her dark blue eyes for a moment longer. Finally, he shrugged. “So no more apologies because you worry about him. I get it. But,” he added when he heard her draw in a breath, “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. Things are a little too…” He trailed off, thinking of Conrad’s lifeless body, of the twisted remains of the tower and of those caught beneath the wreckage. “Raw.”

“Fine. That’s… you’re right,” Alisaie replied, only a little grudgingly. Relieved, he began walking again, the elezen at his side. “Maybe, when things calm down…”

He wanted to tell her no. He’d only told his story willingly to two others. Another had seen it through his eyes, through his Echo, but they’d never spoken of it before she’d passed on from his life. What had happened that fateful night not quite two years ago had happened to a different person, a different man. And yet, when he opened his mouth to tell her this, the words that spilled out came of their own volition. “Yeah. Sure. When things calm down, we can talk about it.”

He didn’t need to see her face to know she was staring at him. “Uhm. Good,” she said hesitantly. “Good. Okay then. Later.”

There was no need to reply, and they walked on towards Ala Ghiri in silence, each caught up in their own thoughts, their own memories, and their own regrets.