The Peninsula

The Fiction and Poetry Archive of Liana Mir and scribblemyname

The Rock They Break Themselves Against (Interactive Fiction)

Oct
23

You reflect.

It’s what you do.

Noise you don’t want to hear, fists thrown, bullets fired—all of it bounces back and strikes your attacker with the slightest bit of your attention, or even less.

Continue

Lost Child

Oct
13

“I found my lost child,” she said, a small quiet familiar voice reaching through the maelstrom of Accelerator’s blackened heart and the black, black wings sprouting from his back and his own scream wailing into the sky.

(more…)

Only You

Nov
23

They weren’t on the same page, they didn’t think the same thoughts, and they didn’t feel the same way. Not anymore. Once, they had—or it felt like it. Both of them had wanted to destroy the world they no longer belonged in, both of them wanted their own small world with each other. Both of them wanted power.

Now here they were with Homra, and they had it, and all Misaki could talk about were the people who’d claimed him as their own.

Saruhiko was beginning to realize Misaki had wanted another family, while Saruhiko had just wanted Misaki.

A Touch of Magic

Jul
10

They talk about their mother all the time, but sometimes Mary swears Dickon sprung up full-formed from the moor that might as well have given him birth. The animals swarm him with delighted sounds, gentle as though they were tame, and plants grow under his fingers as though his blood sings with magic.

(more…)

Odd Out

May
24

Too violent. Too harsh. Too unwilling to use violence until pressed. Willing to use too much violence after.

Reasons to throw her from one complement to another, one look at clawed hooks on her wingtips enough to teach anyone she’d been built at Canaf. Playing nice shouldn’t be her first reflex.

“A diplomatic envoy?” Maru asked, skeptical of her pilot.

“In a war complement,” Taseta said, tossing her braid and grinning. “A permanent post. We’ll serve as point.”

A war complement. They could use both her violence and her restraint.

“You really think it’ll last?”

Taseta shrugged. “At least try.”

The Future

Apr
10

Rhezere didn’t like to think of memories, instead he made endless plans. But sometimes he dreamed them, waking with screams strangled between his teeth.

Sometimes he woke and muffled the memories until they faded. Sometimes he called Kasuru, who had seen his scars and never heard the stories behind them.

“You did a terrible job of healing them,” Rhezere complained. “When the weather’s bad, they hurt.”

“Ah.” Kasuru could hear everything Rhezere wasn’t saying.

They didn’t talk about the past or about the aches and pains Rhezere claimed to have. They talked about their plans, their work, and the future.

Beta

Mar
06

Mikoto had never had alignment testing. It was usually obvious from appearances whether someone needed comfort when hurt or needed to give it when someone else was.

But his family hadn’t cared and neither had he, and somewhere along the way he realized he didn’t feel either.

But he let them comfort him, Tatara and Izumo, when they noticed him brooding, let Tatara try and amazingly succeed at drawing him out of his worst aftermaths. And he let them draw comfort, Anna sitting next to him, claiming his attention with a small hand.

He didn’t feel broken for the lack.

Memories of Us

Mar
02

Anna took the camera out a year after Tatara’s death. Mikoto wasn’t there for her to wake up with it or make memories with. There was no Tatara to absolve her if they damaged the camera.

Even so, she wanted to add her own memories to HOMRA again, so she took the camera in her hand and went out to find Misaki.

He sucked in a breath when he saw it but pasted on a smile as he waved. Fushimi stared at her a moment.

“It’s good to see you,” she said softly.

He was part of their memories too.