#mikoyata

[kjjewels17]

When it's not my ship but the art is 😘👌🏻

[ridiasfangirlings]

Scepter 4 arriving to a strain ordeal just in time to witness Misaki taking a near-fatal blow for Mikoto? How does Fushimi react? And, also, post-reconciliation, but what if this happened after Totsuka's death, but before Mikoto's, so you have Mikoto witnessing Yata almost die in front of him, FOR him, after Totsuka's death too? Kinda Sarumi and MikoYata at the same time? Hehe,, thankss

So maybe a Mikoto Lives style AU where Sarumi reconcile but Mikoto's still alive for it? Oh imagine this kinda post-ROK in a world where Mikoto's powerless, like say this is something where Mikoto lost his powers instead of dying so Anna still becomes Red King, when the Slate's destroyed the current Kings still have some measure of strong power but Mikoto is left with nothing – he's not a King anymore so he doesn't have the remainders of that power, but he wasn't a clansman either so he's basically just a normal human now. Even so Mikoto still stays with Homra and helps them when they're in danger, Kusanagi's somewhat concerned about Mikoto rushing in places when he's not as strong as he used to be but Kusanagi knows that he can't stop him either. Yata's actually concerned about this as well, like imagine him bringing this up to Fushimi and it's a bit of a source of tension between them because Fushimi still hasn't really accepted that Mikoto ever cared about him and he still feels some of that jealousy over how Yata always looked up to Mikoto so much. Fushimi's trying to accept Homra's role in Yata's life but part of him is still all grasping, wanting Yata to look at him and only him, and it's difficult for him to be supportive of Yata's worries while also wanting Yata to worry less about Mikoto and more about him.

Then one day there's some Strain situation and both Homra and Scepter 4 are involved, the Strain's particularly dangerous and everyone's on high alert. Mikoto happens to be sticking near the Homra guys even though he technically doesn't have to be there, like he wants to be sure that everyone's safe and if they need him he's around. Unfortunately the Strain is one that Homra's dealt with before and it recognizes that Mikoto's the former Red King now powerless. Naturally the Strain isn't going to pass up this opportunity to tale revenge and they send this killing blow towards Mikoto that's too fast for him to dodge. Suddenly he hears Yata yelling his name and the next moment there's like a wall of red as Yata tries to put up something of a barrier before taking the full blow himself. A moment later the red dies out and Yata's lying there bloody on the ground, unmoving.

The next thing Mikoto hears is Fushimi yelling Yata's name and then Fushimi's right there, shaking Yata and yelling at him to get up. I feel like Fushimi would probably end up being a bit nasty to Mikoto here, like he's so upset and worried that Fushimi needs to lash out at someone and Mikoto's an easy target. Plus Fushimi's not someone to try and water down his criticisms, so even as he's clutching Yata to him and trying to stop the bleeding he looks up at Mikoto with this twisted smile like it looks like you're still leading your people to their deaths and not caring, huh. Mikoto doesn't react to that as much simply because he's still reeling from this himself, he can't even argue back against Fushimi's acid tongue because he doesn't entirely disagree with it. Yata ends up taken away in an ambulance with Fushimi by his side and it's not until they're both out of sight that Mikoto finally just takes a deep breath and then punches a wall.

Afterward this would be awkward for everyone involved, like I think Fushimi would be both worried about Yata but also angry that once again Yata chose Suoh Mikoto over everything, even his own life. And even though part of Fushimi is aware that Yata once risked his life for Fushimi as well it's difficult for Fushimi not to feel like this shows Yata cares more about Mikoto than him, like he's still not the person Misaki is looking at and maybe he won't ever be. For Mikoto this is rough because I think Fushimi's words would echo in his head, that 'another one of his people' almost died because of him. Totsuka's death is still raw in Mikoto's mind despite how long it's been and seeing Yata almost die now just makes it hit home even more how much things have changed, like back then Mikoto couldn't protect a precious person with his own hands and it seems like even now he can't either, whether he's a King or not it doesn't matter.

[actuallyadyn-blog]

when you finally have an OTP for a fandom and you find out it's a rarepair

[jellyfish--song]

Old mikoyata au: cat!mikoto is adopted by yata after his old owner dies dies and it's just super domestic

Dear anon. You don’t know for how long I was dying to draw this (but after my computer busted, I couldn’t find my will to draw… I mainly only did the commissions I got)!!! This AU is just!!! So cute!!! And again, HCs came flowing to me, let me share them!!!

(let’s pretend they all know each other even if Homra doesn’t exactly exists in this AU)

Mikoto’s last owner died when he was still a small kitten. He ended up living on the streets for a few days until Yata found him.

The cat was so tiny that Yata felt bad for leaving him there alone (note that Yata thought he was already an adult cat lmao). So he took the kitten with him to his house.

At first he was just going to try and find a new owner for the cat, but no one he trusted enough wanted him and so he decided to keep it.

Yata named him “King” because it seemed fitting and the little cat reminded him of the lions he saw on TV.

After that every Homra member went to visit Yata at least once (Fushijima probably went too many times too count) to meet King.

They all gave little presents, too, and soon Yata’s apartment was so full of toys and cat’s accessories he couldn’t barely walk without kicking something.

King continued to grow through the months, and every time someone asked him how King was doing, he would answer with a “Getting bigger!!!”.

After the Homra guys started doubting him when he said King was “almost as big as a medium dog”, he took King with him to a visit to the bar.

He scared the others a lot when he showed he was right. Some even wondered if King wasn’t a lost lion pup when Fushijima recognized cat!Mikoto’s breed as a Maine Coon.(Yata is a lucky fella, finding such a rare cat on the streets lmao. Fushijima was absolutely dying inside)

(Of course the guys started to tease Yata then, saying his cat was going to get taller than him and etc) 

Anna loved King a lot, and was able to convince Kusanagi to let Yata always bring King with him when he stopped by Homra.

And, this could also happen in the canonverse, if you guys want angst (but have in mind this wasn’t how I imagined it, I can’t deal with more angst in K than what the canon gave to us. ESPECIALLY with this ship) :

Yata would name the cat King because his eye’s colors were strangely identical to Mikoto’s ones. That’s also the reason of why he couldn’t let the kitten on the streets. 

King is Mikoto reincarnated. He didn’t get to be the lion Totsuka always said he should be, but he got close enough. Plus, he could stay with the people he loved again, and that was all he wanted.

Okay that’s enough, I got carried away again XD (also, I’m still planing on continuing the Genie!AU I made. Sorry for being so slow to everything ;v;)

[catbrainswriting]

[mikomisa] cut your losses

ship/fandom: suoh mikoto/yata misaki (k project)

chapter: 1/?

word count: 1.7k

summary:  mikoto suoh has a lot of enemies. usually, after they try to face him, they run home with their tail between their legs - but every so often, some will come crawling back with the urge for revenge. and what better target than the one the king holds dearest? (or, alternatively, misaki is kidnapped by a rival gang formerly defeated by mikoto, and the king is given an ultimatum.)

notes: not beta read so sorry for any stupid mistakes.  i started this aaaages ago and never got around to finishing it until @shy-canadian-snowflake popped up and magically motivated me like an angel - so a huge big thank you to them!! this is also the first post on this shiny new writing blog, and there’s no initiation quite like one of my oldest rare-pairs.  enjoy!! (and pls let me know if you did so i’ll know to continue!)

Mikoto is wandering alone down one of the less crowded streets of Shizume, heading back towards HOMRA with several new packets of cigarettes held in a bag in his right hand, when his phone vibrating in his back pocket interrupts his lazy train of thought.  

It is mid-January, early evening, and the snow on the streets has yet to melt so the slicing cold air hangs with it.  Mikoto had left the bar early on a mission to track down a smaller gang stirring up trouble on the other side of the city, but his body temperature (heightened considerably by his aura) continues to attempt to oppose the winter.  Cringing as the hand that had previously been seeking refuge in his jacket pocket is exposed to the air, he draws his phone clumsily from his jeans. The blue light of the phone screen is harsh in the dusk and it takes several long moments for his eyes to adjust so he can check the caller ID.  Izumo.  Mikoto stares at the screen for a moment, before its incessant vibrating reminds him that Kusanagi is actually waiting for him to answer.

He swipes to answer the call and holds the phone to his ear, trying not to think about the fact that the last time Izumo called him, Totsuka was dead.

“Hey, Mikoto?”

Kusanagi’s voice over the phone is as even as ever, casual lilt carrying the words in a way that in any other situation would be relaxing.  But Mikoto has known the man for years, since they were teenagers, and they've been through too much together for him to not immediately notice an underlying sense of anxiety.  His mind, as ever, goes to the worst scenario first.

“What is it?”

Kusanagi barks out a laugh after hearing his tone, but it sounds inappropriate and somewhat forced.  “No one’s dying, I promise.”

Mikoto quirks an eyebrow.  The joke is in poor taste, though he doubts the man intended it as such.  “Then why’d you call?”

“I was gonna ask if you knew where Yata was.”

“Yata?”

“He hasn’t come in today.  I wouldn’t be worried - well, I’m not, really - but he’s not answering his phone.  Kamamoto offered to check his apartment, but I figured I should call you first.  Make sure I’m not interrupting some steamy date.”

Mikoto considers informing Kusanagi that the closest he and Yata have gotten to a date has been a make-out session in HOMRA’s rec room while some action movie played in the background (that’s basically a cinema date, right?), but he bites his tongue.

“I haven’t heard from him.”

That statement brings Izumo’s laughter to a nervous standstill.  There is a long beat of silence.

“Since when?”

“Last night at the bar.  I last saw him the same time you did, unless you’ve talked to him since.”

Mikoto hears a slight ruffle, and assumes that Izumo is shaking his head.  “No...no.  He said goodnight and then he left on his own.  It was late.”

Mikoto’s slow pace down the street draws to a stop.

“What are you implying?”

Izumo pauses, the only sound through the phone his deep breathing.

“I can’t stop thinking about Totsuka.”

Mikoto feels something like anger rising in his throat, but he knows it’s closer to anxiety.  “What are you implying?”

Izumo sighs deeply.  “I’m not--I’m not saying anything.  But, fuck, Yata’s just a kid.  And, yeah, he can look after himself and I get that but I can’t help worrying.  I feel like, with Totsuka, I didn’t worry enough.  And look where that got us.”

Mikoto lets the silence hang, watches his breath dance in the cold January air like the smoke of a cigarette.  He finds himself craving one suddenly, but he doesn’t have a free hand to draw his open pack out of his jacket pocket.

“I’ll go check his apartment.”

His tone makes it sound like an offer, like something he’s willing to do to calm Izumo’s nerves, but they both know that there is now the beginning of panic coursing through Mikoto’s own veins.  Misaki has always had such an effect on him, and more often than not he finds himself cursing the teenager’s innate ability to cause him such grief.

Izumo makes a noise of affirmation, another rustle to indicate a nod.  “Call me as soon as you find him,” he says, with an air of confidence that disappears like smoke in the wind the moment he continues, “And call me if you don’t.”

Mikoto hangs up the phone and breathes deeply, deciding after a moment’s hesitation that Yata is more important than his body’s craving for nicotine.  He sets off again at a significantly brisker pace, turning off a few streets away from the bar and heading instead to Yata’s apartment, tucked far into the worse side of the city.  He hasn't been there many times, since Yata basically lives at the bar, but he’s also aware that Yata’s financial situation is a bit of a sore spot.  God knows how many part-time jobs the kid’s working to try and keep up with the rent, for no real reason other than a desperation to provide for himself, rather than rely on other people.  Yata had been taught the rather harsh (and false) lesson in his life that relying on others always got you hurt, and Mikoto is always trying to encourage him to loosen his grip on that belief, but his efforts are largely in vain.  Yata’s mistrust of people on any level deeper than the surface was ingrained in him, through pain and loss and regret, and no amount of encouraging was going to get him to let go of it.  Especially not with the still-raw grief of Totsuka’s death in his heart.

It seems to get colder the further away from the shopping district Mikoto gets, as the buildings thin out and the streets grow broader - intended for vehicles, rather than slow-paced shoppers - but with a sense of purpose burning in his mind, he doesn't notice it as much as he had before Izumo’s call.  He walks through alleyways and under footbridges, keeps his distance from the guys lingering under them with their hands shoved deep in their pockets, no doubt gripping switchblades.  He doesn't have the time to get into a fight, especially not one that he can't end with an effortless wave of his aura.  He can feel it itching under his skin, burning in a way that it hasn't since the evening of December 7th, and he knows it well enough now to know that it means ‘danger’.  Anxiously, he chalks it up to his surroundings, to the guys holding nail-embedded baseball bats eyeing him from the alcoves of shuttered store fronts, but deep down he knows better.  His aura is unsettled with the need to protect, to shield...and the knowledge that it is helpless.  Something is happening.  Someone is going to be hurt.  And, as he pauses at the bottom of the metal stairs leading to Yata’s second-storey apartment, he can only selfishly hope that it is anyone else.

He begins to scale the stairs slowly, steadily, but his anxiety gets the better of him and soon he is taking them three at a time, leaping over the bannister as it angles around to save him a few precious seconds, and then he is stood at Misaki’s front door and time seems to freeze around him, like he's been plunged sixty feet into freezing water.  The lock is broken, and there is a dull trail of blood dragging from underneath it.

No.

No.

No. No. No.

Mikoto is bursting through the door in a moment, but there is nothing he can do.  He is hours too late already.  

Misaki’s apartment is only one room - two if you count the semi-divided kitchenette, three if you count the bathroom - and it is in chaos.  Shelves formerly housing photo frames and books and DVDs are overturned, the small old-fashioned television smashed from some apparent impact with wires dangling it precariously from its previous perch atop a chest of drawers.  The drawers are all opened, too, sorted through and their contents dumped on the ground, but Mikoto doesn't notice any of it, not really.  Because the old mattress on the floor, including its single unwashed white sheet, is covered in blood, and there is a message spray-painted in purple on the wall above it.

“CUT YOUR LOSSES, KING”

What the fuck? Mikoto is lost too suddenly to immediately feel the rage that he knows is coming, and instead stares dazedly into the ransacked apartment.  Is this revenge? Revenge.  For something that he has done.  Misaki is paying the price for something that Mikoto has done.  The thought makes him feel sick to his stomach, but before he can do anything he notices the note on the table.  It looks so out-of-place amidst the chaos that Mikoto is shocked he didn't notice it before, but he approaches the table cautiously nonetheless.  He snatches up the paper and begins to read.

“Red King.  Or, rather, Suoh Mikoto.  Did you really think you would get away with fucking with us?

You tore us down.  Thought you’d defeated us once and for all.  Taught us a lesson good and proper, yeah?

We don't play no fucking games like that.  

We remember.  Bide our time.  Act with more strategy that you HOMRA fuckers do.  

Bet you feel pretty fucking stupid right now.  Don't worry; the grief’ll kick in soon.

And then you can really feel like shit.

But that's not really what we’re after.  We’re after suffering in the broader sense.  More shame-filled.  More regret.

We did consider that little princess of yours, but even we have standards.  Besides, the other type of love is always more fun.

Depending on how long it takes your stupid ass to realise what's happened, your boy here probably won't be dead.  Maybe. Depends how loud the fucker is.

All we’re asking, Mr. Suoh, is for you to cut your losses.

Let us win and we’ll spare the rest of your boys.  And the girl.

But if you come chasing after us, you’ll find pretty boy here with his throat slit and a hundred men off to do the same to the rest.

Now, I want you to think long and hard.

What are you willing to lose?”

[thereddestclansman-blog]

Yata woke up mikoto by being too loud down stairs, how does mikoto react?

Oh no XD Yata is ranting to Kusanagi about how some fuckers were disrespecting Homra (and he took them down of course) and he ends up waking up Mikoto. Mikoto is very grumpy and storms downstairs, picking Yata up and throwing him over his shoulder. Yata’s face flushes bright red as Mikoto smacks his  ass and carries him upstairs, cuddling him and falls back to sleep 

[pinkcupofcherrytea]

[Fic] Bewitched [MikoMisa]

Title: Bewitched Summary: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica!AU. If possible, Yata would instead wish for more time. Character(s)/Relationship(s): Suoh Mikoto/Yata Misaki Rated: T Warning(s): Implied character death, time jumps. Author’s note: This is my contribution for the second day of K Project Rare Pair Week, with the prompt being Alternate Universe/Universe Alteration. 

i.

Yata’s board slammed hard against the concrete, its user already up in the air kicking down the colourful creatures in his way. The town was ridden with parasites, crawling around the streets in the form of green, monstrous birds or hysterically laughing foxes. They were slowing Yata down, and he’d been pissed from the start. Now he beat the familiars down with badly controlled fury, crushing them beneath the wheels of his skateboard; burning the birds feathers to ash before they disappeared in a huff of green smoke.

The closer he got to the centre of Shizume City, the more vicious creatures came after him.

Witches.

They saw the protruding flames, licking around his board and roaring in Yata’s clenched fists and scrambled closer, eager to consume.

As if he would let them.

“Beat it, Bitch-Witch!” Yata sent out a ball of fire towards the small, greyish green being standing in his way.

“I don’t have time for bugs like you!”

Mikoto-san.

His fire hit its’ target. Yata didn’t stop to pick up the Grief Seed the witch left behind, instead opting to hurry over the rooftops to reach his goal faster. Yata barely made contact with stone before he jumped to the next, buildings flashing beside him. It seemed like the whole city was spinning. And he was running against the stream.

“Dammit,” Yata swore when a new wave of desperate rage welled up, “dammit!”

This wasn’t supposed to happen!

ii.

The loud crunch when the alien-rabbit’s neck broke was wholly satisfying, yet it did not ease the pain at all. Yata still felt like falling to the ground, screaming and crying and hitting his fists on the concrete until the street was smeared with blood. But it wasn’t his own blood that needed to be spilt, and that fact alone kept him up. That, and the rigid back of Suoh Mikoto as he crushed the disgusting little liar against the brick wall.

Kusanagi stood in front of Anna, his body in the way of her seeing the white fur going red and the eyes of Kyubey losing its’ unnatural shine. Kusanagi didn’t waver, he watched it all, and the rest of Homura stood silent as Mikoto threw the thing as far as he could. They didn’t say anything, but their bodies shook with barely concealed rage, their eyes wet and jaws so clenched that it hurt.

“So it’s true, then?” Yata kept his eyes on Mikoto, even when Kamamoto started talking. “About… about the witches and-“

Totsuka-san.

Yata tore away from watching Mikoto’s shoulders – going up and down in sync with laboured breath – to look at Kusanagi and Anna. The panic and horror when seeing Anna’s pale hands clenching around Kusanagi’s dark jacket almost broke him, her red eyes wide, unblinking and staring right ahead.

She would end up like them too. They all would. They’d been tricked, played for fools. Cold still trickled in Yata’s veins from when the cool suspicion had turned into cold facts. Weeks ago, they hadn’t been made heroes.

They’d been made sacrifices.

iii.

Yata flew across the long bridge, leading right into the large school surrounded by dark trees whose shadows stretched ominously across the grass. When Yata raced past them they shrank away from the light. They disappeared completely closer to the large, white building. The school was empty; its students hiding in the City Hall, the stadium, or in their homes to escape the ongoing storm. Lucky for them. A light – an extraordinary fire – pressed up towards the dark sky. As if wanting the burn the stars themselves away.

If it was Mikoto-san, Yata was sure he actually could do it.

There.

A figure stood in front of the onslaught of fire, deathly still. One couldn’t see his features. Not like Yata needed to.

“Mikoto-san!” He cried and jumped of his board, started to run the last few metres stretching between them.

A wave of relief and happiness hit him as the man winced and turned around to watch Yata’s arrival.

iv.

“Colorless is predicted to reach this town in just a couple of days.”

Yata frowned. His baseball bat was heavy and comfortable in his hand as he looked at the visitors through narrowed eyes.

He deliberately avoided the blue-clad leader’s left side, where he stood. Without a doubt watching Yata and trying to tease him.

The leader pushed up his glasses and gave Mikoto a meaning look that he just answered with a shrug.

“So? Deal with it yourself if you want to.”

Kusanagi leaned against the wall smiling gently against the woman by Munakata Reisi’s side while listening closely. Totsuka stood next to him with his hands crossed, head tilted and a slightly worried smile on his otherwise freely optimistic lips.

“I’m quite sure we have the capacity to take care of it,” Munakata closed the file he was holding, “we merely decided to inform you should there be need for-“

“Assistance?” Kusanagi said.

“Preparations.” Munakata slides the file containing the information over the table, Mikoto doesn’t even glance at it. “And simple precaution.”

“As you might know, Colorless is known for conquering large areas. The city would be at risk should we let it roam free.” The woman’s voice was steady and cool as she gave the opposing side a condensing look.

Fushimi clicks his tongue. Yata has to rein himself in less he hits the smug bastard in his stupid face.

“Do whatever you want.” Mikoto seemed to finally have had enough and put out his cigarette on the table before throwing it carelessly to the floor. When he rose Yata, Kusanagi, and Totsuka followed behind. When he reached the door, Mikoto looked over his shoulder and smirked.

“If the witch reaches our turf I’ll burn it. Until then I leave it in your capable hands, Munakata.”

v.

“Mikoto-san!”

“…Yata.” Mikoto’s voice was raspy, as he’d been shouting. Or as if he was tired.

(Yata could feel it. A deep, heavy weight in his bones, it all flowing to rest in the Gem placed in his pocket by the collarbone. Pulling him down.

He ignored it. Had got used to ignoring it by now.)

Finally, finally reaching him, Yata allowed himself to stop. The beat of his heart soared. His skin was damp with sweat after rushing through the city in search of Mikoto, and now Yata’d finally got here. He had half a mind to call up Kusanagi, tell that they were both waiting at the school, that they were both okay. Yata didn’t, and perhaps that was the first telltale sign that something seemed wrong. Odd. Like a fire without smoke. Like a sky without stars.

vi.

The thought of people- no, those he loved, his mother or siblings or friends, wearing a Witch’s Kiss was enough to startle the ever burning sparks inside Yata’s chest. Instead, there were now the lurking danger – the surety – that his comrades would either end up dead because of a witch like Totsuka or dead by becoming one, like the boy from Blues’.

The fact was as crushing as it was agitating.

vii.

“Mikoto-san?”

Yata steps closer, reach out a hand to- lay it on Mikoto’s shoulder? Hold him? He wanted to have Mikoto close. The omnipresent urge to be as close as possible ever so strong.

But Mikoto took a step back and Yata froze, hand still hovering awkwardly in the air before he raised it to scratch his neck instead. Yata chuckled quietly and tried to smile, but Mikoto still didn’t say anything. His shoulders sagged and he looked at Yata with inexplicably empty eyes. A trickle of fear leapt down his spine. Yata quickly erased whatever worried frown that surely graced his face with a larger grin.

“The- the witch is gone, right? The others will be here soon, I sort of ran ahead but they-“ Yata choked on his own words as Mikoto closed his eyes, his features twisting a little as if annoyed. Or in pain.

“- they’ll be here soon…” His mouth felt dry, Mikoto just stood there, the still bristling flames behind him illuminating his face.

“Yata…”

Ah, he was looking at him now. Yata took a step closer. “Mikoto-“

“You need to leave.” Mikoto sounded too calm, behind the words there were hints of strength, of ongoing battle and already predicted loss. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

Yata blinked. Confused. He stepped closer and Mikoto finally – finally – touched him: taking hold of Yata’s shoulder to make him stop. To not get any closer. Mikoto was breathing hard now. Yata could feel the heat of his palms through the jumper.

Hadn’t it been so strange, Yata would’ve acknowledged the smoke accompanying Mikoto’s breath. As it was, it seemed oddly fitting with the flashing background. Mikoto looked every inch a king. As always.

“Yata.” Mikoto said again, and Yata’s head spun. Still not completely over how his name sounded in Mikoto’s mouth. Despite all this time. “Yata.” Mikoto stroke his rough thumb over his jawbone and Yata unconsciously leaned against it.

“I’m not gonna leave!” Yata reached up to grabble at Mikoto’s arm. “Why is-? What’s going on, Mikoto-san?”

Yata couldn’t help the small traces of panic starting to show. Why hadn’t the fire subsided yet? Why didn’t Mikoto-

Yata looked away from Mikoto’s face, to his hand where he suddenly held up something, something small and familiar. The realisation felt like stone. Stone in his belly, stone in his lungs, cold and hard and ugly. Mikoto’s Soul Gem, usually so intense and shimmering, was pitch black.

viii.

“Something’s happened.” Kusanagi’s voice cut through the somber atmosphere in the bar, and Yata looked up from where he’d been resting his head between his arms.

Kusanagi lowered the hand holding his phone.

“One of the Blues’ Soul Gem broke.”

ix.

“The Grief Seed!” Yata bellowed, head twisting furiously around the yard, “where is Colorless’ Seed!?”

Yata hadn’t taken any of the Seeds harvested with him. Too busy and panicked with finding Mikoto to care.

Idiot.

Mikoto just shook his head, holding Yata still with a firm grip on his shoulders.

“It’s too late,” he said, and Yata watched his Soul Gem crack, the darkness inside of it twisting and turning like dark, mindless worms.

Yata felt sick.

“No!” He took a hold of Mikoto’s shirt, stretching it taut as he pulled himself close enough to feel Mikoto’s breath against his nose and mouth. “There is a way! There must be a way to fix this somehow!”

“I’m afraid there isn’t.”

Yata jumped, turning but not letting go of Mikoto to stare in desperation as Munakata walked closer. Hand on his sword.

Without noticing it Yata started to shake his head, glaring at the advancing man with a hostile expression.

“No.”

“Yata…”

“No!” He turned back to Mikoto, his fingers turning white with how hard he held the other man’s shirt. “No.” He said, quieter this time.

He knew what happened to the guy. The guy from Blues’. No details but he didn’t need those...!

In a sudden fit of motion, Mikoto pulled Yata close and tucked his head beneath his chin. Yata’s arms uselessly against his sides first, then he hugged Mikoto back hard, pressing as close as he could. Skin against skin, Yata finally noticed how hot Mikoto was. His skin felt almost scorching against his. Mikoto had always been warm, but not like this.

Another crack, this time Yata felt it against his back where the Gem lay in Mikoto’s fist, and he clenched his teeth less he started screaming out loud. For now his mind was howling enough, and Yata’s lips were pressed hard against the thin skin just over Mikoto’s collarbone.

“Mikoto.” Yata said anyway, sounding muffled.

“I’m sorry,” Mikoto held him completely still, his hand coming up to cup around Yata’s head as the other tightened around his waist, “tell Anna that I’m sorry.”

You should tell her yourself. His mind was in hysterics, yet Yata couldn’t move, could barely think outside the feel of Mikoto’s boiling skin under his lips, the feel of strong arms around him.

The thought of Mikoto disappearing.

“It’s not over yet.” Yata got out and heard a defeated sound coming from Munakata behind him.

But Mikoto shakes his head. He pushes Yata back far enough so that he can get a clear view on his face.

“The point of no return,” Mikoto said, smiling now, his eyes black coal and red embers at his lips, “I already passed that long ago.”

Mikoto leans down and press their lips together. 

Oh.

Hot, dry, holding no promises but an end in fire. Yata could forget about the pain burning against his lips should Mikoto keep kissing him, instead he was shoved back against Munakata, stumbling until he hit the other man’s chest.

“Take him away from here,” Mikoto said, and despite Yata’s thundering “NO” Munakata nodded.

“Fushimi-kun, take Yata Misaki as far away as you can.” Yata hadn’t even noticed, but Saruhiko quickly stepped closer, his eyes flickering from the fire, to Yata, to Mikoto, and to Yata again before settling on Munakata, a stern expression on his face.

“Understood.”

“You got a couple of minutes, at most.”

“Stop it! I’m not leaving!” Yata yelled as Munakata kept him from running back to Mikoto.

Without a word, Saruhiko pulled at his arm and Munakata let go. Yata tried to break free but Saruhiko’s thin arms were surprisingly durable, holding him back. The exhaustion from the sprint here, and everything that happened in the minutes between, made it hard to move. Yata was adamant to fight back anyway.

“Don’t be foolish!” Saruhiko hissed, but his voice lacked its’ usual bite, and with that he finally managed to throw Yata of his footing, and started to run in the direction of the gate. Away from the blazing inferno that only seemed to grow bigger and bigger.

Even through all the noise, the sound of Munakata drawing his sword was deafening.

“Mikoto-san!”

xi.

“Totsuka-san!” Yata cried out.

Just as the witch’s sharp teeth snapped down around Totsuka’s soft neck.

xi.

Kusanagi didn’t want him to go, Yata remembered as he was forcibly pulled away by Saruhiko. He threw Yata like a sack over his shoulder and started to run.

Did Kusanagi-san know?

They were over the bridge now, and with a practiced jump and a surge of blue power Saruhiko brought them both over to the roof of an abandoned building. For the first time Saruhiko looked back towards the school, just in time for the roaring stream of fire to explode. The school building disappeared immediately behind blazing light, for a moment it seemed like the night turned to day. Then the light sank back, dripping down from where it shot off high in the sky.

It looked like the stars were

falling.

Yata hadn’t stopped screaming since Mikoto’d let him go, now it was sharply cut of as there was no air in his lungs, no beat left in his heart. There was a fire, an explosion, then it was all quickly cut of, leaving nothing but silence and cold behind.

In the distance, Yata thought he could her Anna’s shrill scream echo in the coming dawn.

xii.

Dusk. The air started to turn chill as the streetlamps was turned on one by one. The main streets were emptying, but the alleys which Yata moved through were already deserted save from rats and one or two shady characters sneaking around. Yata moved quietly, and without missing a beat leaping up a rusty ladder screwed tight into the concrete wall. He climbed fast, reaching the roof in no time. The night was coming quickly. His Soul Gem seemed to gleam in the increasing darkness before Yata pocketed it.

He ran to the other side of the roof. Peering down, he saw the girl hiding behind a trash can. She was looking in the direction of one of the busier streets, eyes trailed on the food stands a little further down. She didn’t even notice him watching her.

With a snap of his fingers, a rod appeared. Yata took a hold of it firmly and made himself ready. The girl had gone tense, obviously noticing the sound with her sensitive ears. It was her, no doubt. Her dress was white, just about covering her thighs with lace and frills. No gloves, no shoes or hair ornaments, but a long, white tail trailed behind her, now completely stiff as she listened closely.

“Hey.” Yata said, because he was not about to do a surprise attack on a younger girl.

And even if she ran, he would follow.

She jumped and whipped her head to look at him. Her eyes wide, taking in all details while her stance immediately turned defensive. But Yata simply stared back, weighing the rod in his hand while leaning to rest on his knee, stopping just before tipping over the edge.

“Are you the Magical Girl that’s able to manipulate time?”

[kjjewels17]

When your outfits start looking like your favs.. 👀

🛹❤️👑