xCheechx
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"It wasn't your fault, kid."
Ash's heart hiccups at those words, but he ignores it. "I cost Jessica her fucking virtue, and you know it."
Max winces.
There we go, Ash thinks with a tinge of satisfaction. Now react, old man.
Contusions on his mind as dark as those that ever were on his body. Even darker on his heart, maybe. It's fucked up, isn't it? That Ash wants Max to hate him.
Ash thinks it's his fault. Max doesn't.
Bookmarked by xCheechx
07 Jul 2026
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Griffin closes his eyes for a moment. "Where is Aslan?" he asks again.
"Who knows? Kid ran away when I tried to send him to my sister. Haven't seen him since."
"Have you looked?"
"Why would I?"
Griffin takes three steps forward and punches Jim Callenreese in the face.
It takes Griffin years after returning to the States to locate Aslan.
Bookmarked by xCheechx
07 Jul 2026
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I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Do You forgive me? Is there such a thing as forgiveness, for someone like me?
And that was—life, for Ash. Apology after apology. Repentance after repentance. Never forgiveness, though. Never, ever forgiveness.
"Dad?" Aslan asks one day. About six months into the beginning of his Hell on Earth. "I prayed again today."
chaos101's religious guilt fic
Bookmarked by xCheechx
07 Jul 2026
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The flowers will die a little sooner, without you. by chaos101 for ADreamingSongbird
Fandoms: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
27 Jan 2021
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Aslan wakes with a start, a name tearing itself from his lips before he can even know what he’s saying.
“Eiji!” he cries. He jolts upwards, but it hurts. Everything hurts. Why? What’s going on? And why did he yell Eiji’s name?
A day after the invasion, Aslan wakes up on the road, leaving his home behind. Based on ADreamingSongbird's "paper boats" royalty AU! Can be read with or without reading paper boats first.
Bookmarked by xCheechx
06 Jul 2026
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"You're burning up," Shorter says, and suddenly his face is in Ash's, pressing their foreheads together.
"What are you doing?" Ash demands. He wants to pull away, but there's nowhere to go, and he wants to get closer, but there's no such thing, and—
"Taking your temperature," Shorter says calmly, pulling his head back. "Comparing your forehead temp to mine, to make sure it's not just my hands being cold."
"Your hands are cold," Ash grumbles. And of course my face would be warm when you do that, dumbass.
"I think you've got a pretty bad fever, buddy. Let me carry you upstairs."
Ash is sick, and he doesn't have anywhere else to go.
Bookmarked by xCheechx
05 Jul 2026