#writeinktober 2018

[swanfrcst]

scrapped wips for writeinktober 2018 | persona 5

day 2 (#TarotofMagic): ace of planets - fate

don’t you think it’s funny, morgana says one day, after all of it is over, after akira has returned to the home that is not his home, only to count the days until he can leave again.

what? akira asks. he isn’t paying much attention, idly stirring his coffee as he watches the rain outside the kitchen window. the storm leaves tear-streaks across the glass, each one swallowed up by more rain.  

i was just thinking, morgana continues. i was just thinking about all of it.

reaching over to pat morgana on the head, akira says, you’ll have to be more specific.

morgana, who really was, had always been, the most in-tune with the metaverse and its fickle, unyielding desires, replies, you. you and akechi.

akira’s hand freezes over the tips of morgana’s ears.

arsene and loki. a trickster thief and a trickster god.

akira sighs. i thought we’ve been over this. yaldaboath? was a thing? remember? played us all like a fiddle until i shot him in the head?

but morgana shakes his head.

[swanfrcst]

writeinktober 2018 | day 8: faces | persona 5 • akechi 

『faces, doorways, masks, smiles — just say you’re a fake bitch and go! 』

akechi does not expect to summon a second persona. he hadn’t even thought it possible, because the man in the velvet room had said your persona is the manifestation of your rebellion and in the haze of confusion and pain he had assumed —

robin hood is first, and the white of his clothing burns sun-bright in the back of akechi’s eyes.

there’s something wrong about the way his metaverse clothes fit on him. the rub of the fabric. the length of the sleeves. the weight of the red mask that looks more like a plauge doctor’s than a heroes. because that is what robin hood is supposed to be, right? justice for the weak. protecter of the suffering. is akechi the knight or the victim?

when loki bursts into existence, akechi’s head bursts into pain, and he nearly faints. he’s in the palace of some poor soul, kneeling in shock as a cackling shadow swings its axe down-down-down—

there is a tug on his heart and fury shooting through his veins and before loki’s name even manifests on akechi’s tongue he knows that this persona was born of the dark, dark rot that burns to vengence-fuel. loki, the trickster god. akechi, the trickster boy.  

the shadow dies in a gasp of smoke. loki does not leave even a sliver behind, and akechi’s rage boils over into an explosion.  

two persona. two! one for the world, and one for himself. one to live by, and one to die by. two sides of his being so markedly different from each other. it becomes a game that he never loses: a pleasant smile turned into a bloodthirsty snarl, teeth bared against the night.

it’s still a smile. it’s still him.  

[pecwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: Voltron Pairing(s): Klance Rating: G Words: 600 Prompt: Day 5 - Chicken Note: written for #writeinktober 2018

[pecwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: My Hero Academia Character(s): Bakugou, Kaminari, & Midoriya Rating: G Words: 350 Prompt: Day 4 - Spell Note: written for #writeinktober 2018

[pecwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: Free! Character(s): Nagisa, Rei, Makoto, Rin, & Haru Rating: G Words: 400 Prompt: Day 3 - Roasted Note: written for #writeinktober 2018

[pecwrites]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Character(s): Lance (and some Keith) Rating: G Words: 400 Prompt: Day 2 - Tranquil Note: written for #writeinktober 2018

[swanfrcst]

writeinktober 2018 | day 2: poison | drrr | 200 wc

“pick your poison,” izaya says, lips curling into a smile, all teeth, all power. “or don’t—i don’t really care.”

there is a carelessness to his words, the trilling intonation of a trickster god watching the world spin  ‘round and ‘round for his own amusement. but izaya is less of a trickster and more of a anarchist, and would probably kill god if he was ever given the chance.

kida knows this, and kida knows how absolutely fucking dangerous it is to confront izaya. in anger, in despair, in desparation — it all serves as fuel to whatever fire izaya’s started this time around.

“don’t lie to me,” kida says anyways, cold fury lining every breath he takes, because he also knows that izaya always has something else up his sleeve. but izaya tilts his head in mock confusion and the botton of kida’s stomach drops to the floor. suddenly, he is eleven again, drunk on life and drunk on love, blind to everything but the day before him.

izaya must have caught the fear that flashed across his face, because his smile flashes even sharper.  “you came to me, and this is what i have to offer,” izaya says, sweet honey dripping from every word. “pick your poison, kida-kun. who knows! one of them might turn out to be the antidote you’re looking for.”

[swanfrcst]

writeinktober 2018 | day 1: rage

akechi buries it underneath his smile. he shoves it down his throat and into the bird-cage of his heart, because such things are not to be seen and not to be heard. let it burn instead. the smoke will shear his lungs and cloud his eyes but anything is better than the crushing emptiness of defeat. keep your friends close and your enemies closer, they say, but akechi has no friends to speak of and more enemies than he can bother to remember — so instead, he opens himself up for the taking.

what he offers is not loyalty and is not kindness, but they don’t have to know that.

akechi gathers his righteous fury in his bloody hands and locks it away in his chest, hidden underneath a lifetime’s worth of injustice. transparent, if anyone had ever bothered to look. his fingerprints are wine-red against the white of his ribcage.

he doesn’t throw away the key.