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@sciaphillia

blazblue doodles

This sucks. This sucks this suck this sucks. “You’ll be working with the SPD for this case, Makoto,” El-Melloi had told her. That was fine, she knew plenty of people in the island’s police force. But his next words had made her want to crawl into a hole and die. “With a Captain Hazama. Don’t let me down.”

Of course. Of course it had to be with Hazama. She was going to try her damned hardest to not embarrass her employer, but she just knew somewhere in her gut that Hazama would make things difficult. That’s what he does.

As she walked into his office, he gave her that little smile that made her wanna punch his teeth in. “Ah, good afternoon, Lieutenant. Oh, apologies, I suppose I should say Detective Nanaya, shouldn’t I? Wouldn’t want to go around giving anyone the wrong idea about your position in all of this.”

“Detective Nanaya is fine,” she said, straining to keep her voice even.

“Well, I’m expecting good things from you,” he said, pulling out a large case file. “As I recall, when it comes to work, you don’t tend to disappoint. In other areas…” He smiles just a little more, and it makes her fur stand on end. “I suppose that’s not relevant right now. Let me fill you in on what’s going on.”

Makoto knew this was only the beginning. The whole time, he would be making rude little jabs at her, or maybe thinly-veiled threats, or comments on how he didn’t like animals or something. That was just the kind of person he was, eager to ruin everything for everyone else for his own sick kicks.

And then, several days later, the case was closed, and Makoto had only counted two Hazama-esque statements. They were standing in his office again after a well-conducted and professionally-handled case that ended with a criminal being apprehended, and now Hazama is looking over the file approvingly. “I guess I was right. You don’t disappoint, detective. I’ll be sure to let El-Melloi know you’ve done a good job.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

“Well, I guess that’s to be expected of someone who used to be my subordinate. After all, you know I don’t tolerate any slacking on the job.”

“I’m aware, Captain.”

He stared at her for a few moments, as if expecting her to say something else but was left wanting. With a shrug, he turns away, back to his desk. “You’re dismissed, Lieu- Detective. I’ll let El-Melloi know-”

Her hand grabs his wrist while her other hand forces his head down on the desk with a solid thud. “I am so… sick and tired of you!” she snarls.

Hazama just chuckles in response. “There it is, I was wondering when this would happen. You almost surprised me, I really thought you were gonna walk away without doing anything. Then again, you’ve never been the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

He twists in her grip as one of his legs hooks hers, knocking her off balance enough for him to wriggle free. But with her hand still on his wrist, she yanks him down with her, and he does an awkward half-spin before running into the desk as she hits the floor. Using her tail as a springboard, Makoto pushes herself back up on her feet just as Hazama turns to face her, drawing one of his curved knives. Reaching forward, she grabs his tie and pulls him down to her level, and at the same time he raises his blade to her cheek. She glares at him, teeth bared, eyes focused, and in return his eyes are open and glinting, with a cruel smile playing on his lips.

“Look at that,” he laughs. “A little further than last time, no? I better watch my step, otherwise one day you might get a second hit in on me.”

Makoto feels her arm tremble with how hard she’s holding her fist back. “I won’t need a third,” she growls.

“Are you sure about that? If you’re going to try and hit me, Lieutenant, you better make it count. Better make it hurt. Better kill me in one shot.” He leans in a little bit, until their faces are hovering only inches from one another. He uses his free hand to tap on his temple, right beside his eye. “If I can give you some advice, try to do it right here. Sometimes if you hit the skull hard enough, you can do some real damage. Not that it matters in this city, of course.”

She opens her mouth to say something as the door behind them opens. “Captain Hazama? I heard something dropping, is everything alright?”

As the SPD officer steps into the room, they’re treated to an odd image: there’s a young woman with squirrel features, looking irrevocably pissed off, backed against the wall. And then there’s Captain Hazama, thumb to his lips, a look of distaste on his face. Both are making a pointed effort not to look at them.

“Everything’s hunky-dory,” says the Captain in a low voice. “You’re dismissed.”

“I’m sorry, I only-”

“You’re dismissed, I said. And next time, try knocking first, hm?”

The officer has a distinct feeling they’ve seen something they shouldn’t, so they just nod and close the door behind them.

Makoto’s eyes are wide, still fixed on Hazama. She still has violence on her mind, but now it’s being eclipsed by the sensation of her lips against his. Out of all the people in this damn city, it’s his. Neither of them had wanted it, but the door was behind them, and they were so close together, and it pushed them together and now she feels like she needs to dunk her whole head in holy water so she’ll be clean.

Hazama simply stands there in the same spot he was in when she leapt away from him. Lazily, he turns his head to fix one eye on her. “I think you should get out of here.”

No names, no titles, just the vague impression that things are going to get worse if she doesn’t do as she’s told. So she does so, slipping out of the door while still keeping her eyes locked on him in case he tries anything funny.

As Makoto trots down the SPD’s hallways and out to the streets, her heart feels like it’s beating fit to burst. She knows she’s lucky she got away from that unscathed, but there’s something else burning a hole in her mind. A horrible fact that she’s now privy to, something she never needed or wanted to know that’s sitting there in her brain where she’ll never be able to get rid of it. The worst piece of knowledge she’s ever had the displeasure of knowing.

@sciaphillia​  said :   ❣️  from terumi… wig   (  meme   /   accepting !  )

❣️ - a kiss that conveys an emotion

    HIS  LIPS  PART   &   HE  THREATENS  HER .          at  least  she  thinks  he  must  have .   after  all ,   it’s  one  of  the  few  things  he  does  with  any  delight  in  him .    he  spits  bitter  words ,   venom  dripping  down  against  his  mouth   &   she  catches  with  her  heart ,   remains  unpoisoned  all  the  same .    with  little  distance  between  them ,   verdant  notes  the  distinctive  lack  in  usual  CRUEL  smiles   or  mocking  laughter .   her  very  self  angers  him ,   &   he  wants  her  dead ,   it  makes  sense  he  would .   perhaps  what  frightened  her  about  his  tendency  to  breach  her  personal  space  was  that  he  could  so ,   so  easily  end  her  life .   after  all ,   hadn’t  he  done  that  ONCE  already ? 

     difficulty  finds  her ,   unable  to  pry  viridescent  gaze  away  from  him .   alchemist  winces ,   his  fingertips  biting  into  her  cheek ,   digging  into  porcelain  as  though  trying  to  tear  open  flesh .   unlike  her  own  eyes ,   amber  hues  do  not  waver .   how  much  longer ,   she  wonders ,   will  she  continue  to  search  for  a  hint  of  virtue   /   a  sign  of  goodness   /   for  any  indication  Yuuki  Terumi  was  not  the  utter   &   complete  MONSTER  it  would  be  so  easy  to  paint  him  as ?   maybe  she  is  no  longer  in  any  position  to  try   &   save  him ,   maybe  she  never  had  been .

     ❝   i’m   …   sorry  ——   ❞     yet  a  trembling  palm  rises  up ,   brushes  past  merigold  hood   &   hovers  over  his  jaw   ;     the  movement  is  slow   &   hesitant   &   careful ,   careful ,   careful ,   like  she  was  more  worried  she  could  harm  HIM .   barest  murmur  of  an  aimless  apology  touches  his  skin ,   singes  the  air  with  little  clarity .

     her  lips  touches  his  then ,   touches  his  lips ,   presses  against  him  into  a  softer  kiss .   she  treats  it  tender  ,   gentle ,   ardent   ;     there  are  blades  in  his  throat   &   through  their  kiss ,   caustic ,   but  Trinity  remains firm .   a  seraph’s  kiss ,   saccharine ,   NEFARIOUS ,   all  things  wrong .   feels  like  she’s  embracing  GASOLINE  pressed  to  waxen  craft ,   holding  onto  a  match  LIT   &   BURNING .   pallid  fingertips  glide  over  his  cheek ,   &   her  breath  ceases .   separation  only  comes  as  the  need  for  air  becomes  great ,   previous  actions  slathering  colour  over  the  dip  of  her  cheeks   —-   dyes  her  a  hideous  tint ,   a  spill ,   a  tapestry  of  varying  shades  of  pinks   &   reds  alike .   her  lips  never  quite  left  his   :    they  were  a  murmur   of  breaths  against  hers ,   a  sliver  of  shudders   &   quiet  clatters  of  teeth .   slowly ,   fingers  flex   &   recollect ,    grasping  onto  herself .

     stupid ,   foolish  heart  is  aflutter ,   threatening  to  break  free  of  delicate  confines  which  dare  keep  it  contained .   surely  if  he  listened  any  closer ,   he  too ,   would  be  able  to  hear  the  drumbeat  which  deafens  her  own  ears .   slowly ,   more  distance  is  put  between  them ,   lulls  her  skull  against  the  wood  of  the  wall ,   &   dares  to  think  for  a  moment ,   it  would  be  nice  if  she  could  understand  him ,   understand  herself ,   understand  this   —   WHATEVER  this  was .