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overwatch-does-stuff · 3 years

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Okay, it’s time for some deep nerdery to speculate about Overwatch 2

Overwatch 2 has 30+ characters. That’s one hell of a large ensemble. If Blizzard had any brain cells, they would probably try and take a similar approach to how Marvel handled their large cast in Avengers: Infinity War.

Remember Infinity War? It functioned as a movie by keeping its groups of characters small (at most five people per group) but also by choosing ‘main characters’ that it focused most of its emotional energy on (most notably, Ironman, Dr. Strange, Vision, Thor, Thanos, and Gamora). The main characters were the ones with emotional arcs and therefore had the most screentime. The rest of the cast was quite static. Also, characters in different groups rarely, if ever got to interact with any characters outside of their group, with the rare exception of a quip or two.

My suspicion is that Overwatch 2 is going to do a VERY similar thing. This means that the roster of Overwatch heroes are going to be divided up into groups and assigned either main character or side character status.

So who’s going to be in each group? That I can’t tell you. As Marvel has shown, characters are grouped up not based on character compatibility, or even arc potential, but instead on what would best make the plot go forward. (For example, raise your hand if you predicted that Ironman, Spiderman, and Dr. Strange would team up with Starlord, Mantis, and Drax for the climax. No one? That’s what I thought.)

What I can predict, however, is whether each Overwatch hero is going to be given main character status or not. My predictions are going to be based on lore importance and current emotional arcs that have been set up the Overwatch continuity. Unfortunately, fan favoritism or previous screen time is not a good indicator (again, as shown in Infinity War.: raise your hand if you predicted that Captain F*cking America would have less than fifteen minutes screentime?) and therefore will not be counted in my evaluation.

NOTE: It is assumed that the plot of Overwatch 2 will be the plot that was introduced in the Zero Hour short, along with the gameplay trailer.

I’ll go tank/damage/support, alphabetically through each section.

D.va- Oh, poor D.va. Unfortunately, I think she’s just going to be a side character. Being so unconnected with the rest of the cast is a death sentence for plot importance. The only way I can see her being a major player is in an indirect way- if Blizzard decides to focus on the “Omnic From the Sea” they teased at in the short Shooting Star.

Orisa- Orisa is not so cleanly cut. Given that she was created to defeat Doomfist, she has potential to be the one who takes him down. They’re narrative and thematic rivals (an analysis of which could be a whole other post) which made me finally decide that she’ll be main character status. I know that seems like a cop-out, but given how Doomfist is the main face of villainy, her connection with him makes her important.

Reinhardt- I’m going to be massacred for this, but I don’t see any universe where Reinhardt is a main character. His character is static, his connection with old Overwatch is the most flimsy out of the oldies, and most of his backstory has already been explored. He’s going to be a side character, relegated to a mentor to Brigitte.

Roadhog- Nope. Side character. He and Junkrat fall into the same boat. Not being a part of Overwatch and having no connections to any characters in Overwatch makes more than passing screentime impossible.

Sigma- OUR BOY SIGMA is going to get no screentime, calling it right now. He’s going to be firmly relegated to side character status. Why? Although he might be a serious fan favorite, his lore and the conflict it introduces (the cosmic horror of the universe) doesn’t really apply to the rest of Overwatch. We know he’s affiliated with Talon, but more like a weapon than a character. He’s got serious redemption potential, but the arc would be very. . . simple. As soon as he gets to Overwatch the arc would be over.

Winston- MAIN CHARACTER. Our mans is currently the driving force behind the majority of the plot (that isn’t whatever Talon’s doing). He’s the one who recalled Overwatch. Enough said. If he doesn’t get an arc about learning how to be a leader, I am going to be shocked.

Wrecking Ball- lol side character. Given how Blizzard hasn’t made any attempt to treat him more than a walking gimmick, he’s going to be such a side character that he might blend into the background.

Zarya- This is another character that makes me hesitate. At first glance, she’s in the same boat as D.va in that she has no personal connections with the lore or the main cast. HOWVER, she’s directly involved in the conflict of Overwatch 2 because she is currently fighting Omnics in Russia AND has been trying to track down Talon on her own for a while now. Plus, she also has a very juicy potential character arc: she’s racist towards Omnics. Her comic touched on the fact that she has the potential to outgrow her prejudice. This leads me to believe that Zarya is going to be one of the main characters, if a more minor one than the rest.

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Ashe- Side character. Her connection to McCree ensures that she’ll get some juicy interactions, but not enough to be considered a main character. More than likely she’ll be contacted to help out with the plot conflict, but she’s not going to have any sort of arc or emotional connection with other characters beyond snarky one-liners.

Bastion- . . . I hate this, but I don’t trust Blizzard to give Bastion the relevance they deserve as a character. Don’t get me wrong, I think Bastion will be important to the plot of stopping the rogue Omnics, but I think Bastion themselves will be treated as a McGuffin. They’re mute and prone to acting naively, which is not conducive to character agency. I’m going treat McGuffin as a third category to my predictions.

Doomfist- literally the Thanos of this conflict. He’s going to be a main character, but I doubt he’ll get any character development, because that’s what Reaper is for.

Echo- Main character. It’s pretty much guaranteed by the fact that McCree sought her out in his animated short and that she was once the payload of Route 66. The Overwatch narrative also treats her as the “sPeCiAl OmNiC” that’s somehow more advanced/better/more sentient than the rest of the Omnic cast. As much as I think the role that they’re going to give her would be better suited for Bastion or Zenyatta, I just know that Blizzard is going to give her the full main character treatment. She’s going to be the magical bridge between Omnics and humans. Count me mad about it.

Genji- I love our ninja boy, and he’s an honorary mascot of the game, but as far as arcs go he just finished his. He’s finally found inner peace. That’s not a good sign for main-character-ism. However, he has tons and tons of connections to the rest of the cast and the lore. . . but I don’t think it’s enough. I think he’s going to end up as the character that other characters are able to bounce off of. Everybody knows him, so they’ll be talking to him a lot, but he isn’t going to drive the plot with his own struggles. He’s a side character. His brother, however. . .

Hanzo- As one of the two people in the Overwatch roster actively undergoing a serious life crisis, I suspect that Hanzo is going to be a main character. The fact that he and his goals are not connected to Talon or Overwatch is a detractor, but his emotional turmoil as established in the short Dragons is too important too ignore. His decisions, however reckless and hot-headed they will be, will significantly impact the plot. Why? Because his potential for redemption is such juicy story bait. Also, he could bring in an entire other faction, the Shimada Clan, into the plot, and that could be a game-changer.

Junkrat- Side character. The same reasoning for Roadhog applies here. He’s not connected in any way to the cast. The only potential mystery about him is the ‘treasure’ that’s been alluded to over and over again. If he has this story bait, why am I calling him a side character? Unfortunately, it’s because his ‘treasure’, whatever it is, is going to be a McGuffin. Junkrat’s going to be lucky if he avoids the same status.

McCree- A side character, but an important one. This decision was a difficult one. He’s got the lore and the connections to the other characters but not the internal character arc. He was an active player in unleashing Echo, but it’s also hinted at that he isn’t going to join the recalled Overwatch, instead striking out to do his own thing. That’s not conducive to being a major player in the story. However, his connections and conversations with other characters might, in the same way I’ve predicted Genji’s might, motivate other characters to drive the plot forward.

Mei- Side character. Nothing much else to say. Her focus on climate science isn’t going to be super relevant to the Omnic plot. She’s got only a very loose connection with other characters in the form of her Overwatch membership.

Pharah- I hate this, I hate this, I hate this, but she’s going to be a side character, calling it right now. She’s got so much potential because of her relationship with her mom, but that’s about it. Ana is her only connection to the rest of the cast. It’s important that they reconcile, but their reconciliation has nothing to do with any other plot point. It’s isolated. That’s not a good sign for her screen time, especially considering that she’s not looking for Ana and Ana is not looking for her.

Reaper- MAIN CHARACTER. You should have seen this coming. As the primary instigator of the plot (aka the reason Winston recalled Overwatch,) it should be meta-textually obvious why he’s going to have a lot of screentime. He’s directly responsible for a significant chunk of the unresolved lore conflict within old Overwatch. In order to resolve it, we’re going to be seeing him, a lot.

Soldier 76- Main character, for exactly the reasons listed above. As Reaper’s foil and the person who’s hunting him down, Soldier is going to be pretty important in concluding that unresolved conflict. It’s destiny. Like in a murder-soulmates kinda way.

Sombra- Tricky, tricky, tricky. . . it’s difficult to say. It all depends, I think, on the amount of emphasis Blizzard places on her conspiracy. If she’s the only character who knows exactly what’s going on, that could set her up to be very plot relevant. However, her relationship with other characters and to the rest of the Overwatch lore is shaky at best. I’m going to leave this one blank. There’s just too much we don’t know.

Symmetra- Here we have the other person in the Overwatch roster that is actively undergoing a serious life crisis that I alluded to. Symmetra might at first seem unrelated to everything- the lore, the characters, etc, but Blizzard has set up a surefire redemption arc for her that needs to be resolved. She is going to realize that Vishkar and Talon are connected, and she is going to make the decision to either go full villain (unlikely) or to turn over all the information she knows to Overwatch. Either way, she’s going to get involved, and she’s going to grow as a character. Main character material.

Torbjorn- Torbjorn, oh Torbjorn. Here’s a case that makes me upset. For all intents and purposes, he should be a main character. He’s the one who helped develop the Omnics, and he’s got an active character arc where he’s trying to undo the damage Omnics have caused. This ties him pretty damn directly to what we know of the plot of Overwatch 2. However, Blizzard lately has refused to treat him with respect, reducing him to a joke character because of his height and accent. Not only that, but they diminished his importance in the lore with the invention of Mina Liao and Echo. I could write and entire post about how the Mina Liao/Echo introduction was made to replace Torbjorn and Bastion’s importance in the potential plot, but all of three people would read it.

Tracer- As the literal face of Overwatch it’s pretty damn obvious that she’s going to be a main character. If you need a reminder, look at the London Calling comics and then the cover art for your copy of Overwatch.

Widowmaker- Widowmaker has literally zero character agency and only very very very loose connections with the lore/characters. HOWEVER, she does have the potential to be redeemed by death (I could make a whole other post on this) but it’s not enough to bring her into major character territory. Side character.

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Ana- Side character. Given that she’s avoiding her potential emotional arc by avoiding Pharah and the rest of recalled Overwatch, she’s flat out of luck for main-character-ism. She’s going to be very important to Soldier 76 and Reaper but she won’t be the one instigating any plot points. Unfortunate.

Baptiste- Another tally for the side characters. The fact that it took him a year to even get voice interactions with the rest of the cast reflects this. His arc of leaving Talon is already done, the idea of Mauga being added to the game is history by now, and he has few connections with the current cast and plot. Big F, my dude.

Brigitte- With both her dad and her mentor being important former Overwatch members, it makes sense that she should be a main character, right? Right? Unfortunately, I think she falls into the same pitfalls as Reinhardt. Her backstory is already mostly explored and her dad is better at any plot-relevant mechanics that might be needed. She’ll help her dad, no doubt, but she’s a side character.

Lucio- I really want Lucio to be a main, really, I do, but he’s a side character. He suffers the same exact problem that D.va does. He has very little to involve him with the rest of the main caste. He’ll join Overwatch, sure, but I think it’ll be more of a decorative declaration than anything. His connection with Symmetra is his only saving grace, but even that just relegates him as a side character in her emotional arc.

Mercy- I think she’s going to be a side character, because all of her current content has her separated from everyone else and unsure about going back to recalled Overwatch. I don’t see the narrative following her inner emotional turmoil about this decision very much. She also doesn’t add anything to the potential plot.

Moira- Okay, Moira is tricky, so hear me out: her lore importance is off the CHARTS, and she’s a lot like Doomfist in the aspect that she is quite clearly villainous. She brainwashed Widowmaker. She turned Reaper into what he is today (physically, mind you,) and she probably has something to do with manipulating Sigma. But is being a villain enough? She’s not the one directly orchestrating Talon’s plan, like Doomfist is. And she’s not so directly connected to the fall of Overwatch like Reaper is. I hesitate to call her a main. Narratively, she’s going to get her comeuppance, but. . . (I’m going to leave this one blank.)

Zenyatta- The only true wild card on this list. Sure, I’ve left Sombra and Moira blank, but Zenny boy? He’s literally got nothing. There’s nothing to base predictions off of. No lore to speak of. We know that he mentored Genji. We know that he knew Mondatta. We know that he defends Omnics’ rights to exist. However, I doubt Blizzard has the nuance to tackle his perspective on the impending Omnic war in Overwatch 2. He could be a seriously major player if he was treated with the respect that his character deserves, though! He could potentially have an active role in trying to figure out what’s making the Omnic uprising occur and stopping it in its tracks! There is so much potential there! It’s all in Blizzard’s hands. It’s all about how Blizzard chooses to finally flesh out his character. . . IF they flesh out his character at all.

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Total tally out of 32

Main characters: 11

Side characters: 17

Undecided: 3

McGuffin: 1 (poor Bastion)

And that’s the results! It’s important to note that I am far from infallible and that these are just my opinions/speculations on the future. Please please please argue with me in the tags/reblogs. That would make my day.

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nicetomeetmew · 3 years

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If LU was an anime (VA headcanons)

Okay so! A while back I uploaded a video (which you can find here) giving the LU boys voice actors. And in the description of said video, I promised that I was going to post a list of explanations for my voices and link it. Which I am only doing now.

These choices, bar a few, are my own personal opinion, so I'd love to hear your thoughts about them! I spent far to long working and watching anime for this but I am pretty happy with the end result, bar one (glares at Four). So I hope you enjoy! And prepare yourself. Cause this is LONG.

Legend - Vic Mignoga (Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood)

So fun fact. Back when I first discovered LU, I almost immediately imaged Leg with this voice. He had strong Ed vibes for me and when I started making this list, he was the only one I immediately knew was perfect. At least to me. It just has that quality; the snark with the capability of being genuine and emotional (I do apologise if the voice clips I included in the video made you sad. That's a hazard of FMA). I didn't consider anyone else for Legend, even though I did briefly consider Vic Mignoga for Warriors (more on that later).

Sky - Aleks Le (Zenitsu Agatsuma from Demon Slayer)

Man, I considered a fair few KnY voices for this list, including the voice of Tanjiro for Wild and the voice of Giyu for Twilight. But this is the one that stuck. I was struck between Sky having a youthful, soft voice or an older, soft voice (I knew his voice had to be soft. I mean. It's Sky.)

I watched the dub of Demon Slayer solely for this and it never would've occurred to me to consider Zenitsu's voice for Sky. But as the show progressed and I heard it when he wasn't... you know... begging some poor lass to marry him, I realised he actually has quite a soft voice. And when I heard it get all serious I thought "Yep. That works." And thus I placed Aleks Le as the Chosen Hero. You could argue that his voice is a bit too youthful for him but I still think it works.

Wind - Amanda Miller (Boruto from Boruto: Naruto Next Generations)

Ugh. Ugh. *increasing sounds of disgust*. I hate this.

But let's start from the beginning. Right off the bat, I was 99.9% sure Wind would be voiced by a woman. Okay so he's not 10 (that will make more sense in a second), but he's still pretty young and I imagine him with quite a youthful voice. For him, I considered Sarah Natochenny, the current voice of Ash Ketchum in Pokémon, and also Colleen Clickenbeard's voice for Monkey D. Luffy in One Piece. But these two voices shared the same problem. They were too raspy. I just cannot see Wind with a raspy voice. I guess if you really, really, really focus on it it could work but I just could get it to work for me hfff.

And then... ugh. I spoke to a mate about. He doesn't know about LU so I just told him I was making voice headcanons and couldn't think of a good one for a 14 year old boy. And he said "have you heard Boruto's English voice?" And I think my response was something along the lines of, "Ben, I have standards." But he insisted it would probably work so I watched a clip of Boruto on YouTube and much to my horror, it did seem to work. But there was problem. None of the clips had lines I could picture Wind saying. And because of that I was struggling to actually give Wind the voice. But something told me that it was the right one so... I... *shudders*... watched Boruto. I watched I think 5 full episodes before I had no more braincells and skipped thorough a bunch more and sure enough, I could finally see Wind with that voice. I think it fits him great and it honestly might be my favourite choice just because I had to watch that nightmare.

Hyrule - Justin Briner (Izuku Midoriya from My Hero Academia)

Ah. This one is much more pleasant. First of all, I never realised this at first but Midoriya and Hyrule are kind of similar. For one thing, they do kinda look alike. And for another they have the same "I will never give up" kinda thing going on.

Roolie is another one I knew would have a soft voice. I think Justin Briner was always down as a choice for him, except for when I briefly considered him for Four (more on that later *big sigh*). This is another anime I watched the dub for solely for this and there were a ton of lines right from the get go I could instantly imagine Roolie saying. So yeah. Aside from the tiny moment I almost assigned Justin Briner to Four, this was a pretty easy one. Midoriya has a soft voice that I could easily imagine Hyrule having. And when he got angry and his voice got harsher, I could also easily see Roolie like that too. Fun fact: there's another BNHA voice on this list... heh.

Wild - Michael Sinternklaas (Dagger from Black Butler)

AW YEAH. YOU HAVE BEEN DIAGNOSED WITH BRITISH BOI.

Ahem. Anyway. Yes Wild is British. Everyone rejoice. I was unsure of how people would react to this but I think this is the only voice on the list everyone agreed on. Which I'm happy about.

As I mentioned, I considered the English voice of Tanjiro (Zach Aguilar) for Wild. There were issues with this; mainly that it was too soft, too young, and made him sound too similar to Sky. Now here's the thing. I WANTED to give Wild a English accent. I am almost certain he would have one, like most people. However the only anime I could think of with decent English accents was Black Butler (and yes I know his final voice is from it, bear with me) and there was a problem with that. Most of the voices from Black Butler are ridiculously posh. Now you may be thinking "But Kai, Zelda has a posh English accent" and to that I would say "Ah yes but she's a princess and Wild is not". And now you might be thinking "But Kai, he's a knight an probably spent a lot of time in a place with posh English accents". To which I would say "But he wasn't always". Two words. Hateno Village.

Let me explain.

I feel like a lot of people hear the words 'English accent' and immediately think of an accent like Zelda's (and no, I am not saying everyone does and I'm also not implying that there aren't people out there who aren't British and know that there are multiple accents). Anyway, English accents are different depending on the place. And, since one can assume Wild is from Hateno Village, I would imagine their accent is different to that of those born in Castle Town. So that's why I was reluctant to give Wild a voice from Black Butler. Because all the voices that weren't insanely fancy were either far too old or did not have the right vibe.

Then one day, taking a break from this, I was watching season 3 of Black Butler (one of the only anime I watch dubbed) and I heard two voices that I suddenly thought, hang on just a second. One of those was the voice of Ronald Knox, who's a grim reaper. And the other, of course, was Dagger. I was leaning towards Dagger and what sold me was one scene in particular, which I chose as the final voice clip for Wild (you cannot tell me that is not exactly something he would say). And that was it. But Wild's was easily one of the most frustrating (not the most *glares at Four again*).

Time - David Matranga (The Father from Wolf Children)

Another tough one and also one I heavily considered for Twilight (for obvious reasons). Time's was kind of tricky because I knew I wanted it to be deep but there's such of variety of deep voices. At one point I even considered dumping the deep voice idea because it was so hard. It was a this time I thought of the voice of space cowboy extraordinaire, Spike Spiegel. But my brain said "hell no". There were other voices I considered for him, loads of which I cannot find the notes for and another one which will likely appear in part two as another character (no spoilers), but when I was picking a voice for Twi, some of the lines the father said just kept ringing big old Time vibes with me. So in the end, I decided to for it. Like I said, I imagine time with a deep voice and while to father's might be a bit more... gravelly (?) than I imagined, I think it fits him pretty well. It's serious and mature but still a certain kindness I'd imagine Time's voice to have.

Warriors - Johnny Yong Bosch (Ichigo Kurosaki from Bleach)

Don't lie. You knew Johnny Yong Bosch was gonna be on here and not just because I put his name (albeit spelled incorrectly) in the thumbnail. When I started making this, I knew I wanted to fit JYB into it. In my mind, LU would be an amazing anime and almost all amazing anime have Johnny Yong Bosch in it.

Now, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out whether he would be better for Wars or Twi. At one point I was convinced he would be best for Twi and that's when I briefly thought about Vic Mignoga for Warriors (his voice for Tamaki Suoh from Ouran High School Host Club. Don't tell me Tamaki and Wars aren't at least a tiny bit similar). But I could bear to part with Vic for Legend so I decided heck it, Johnny is Warriors and I'll find someone else for Twi later. As for the voice in particular, the two voices I considered for Twi definitely did not fit Wars. And then I remembered Bleach and immediately I thought "Yep. That's the one". I imagine Warriors having an authoritative voice, not too deep and very... uh... I don't know the right word. Clean sounding? Anyway, Ichigo just seemed to fit nicely and thus it was so.

Four - Micah Solusod (Yukine from Noragamai)

Ugh. UGH. Okay. This is my least favourite. Four was, excuse my French, A FUCKING NIGHTMARES. There was not ONE SINGLE VOICE that seemed to work for him at all. I watched a bit of the Noragmai dub because I was thinking about Yato's voice for someone (I can't remember who. It might have been Wild) and I heard Yukine's and decided to put it into reserve. As in, my last resort. And I had to use it. Oh my god Four. I love you but your voice is literally a nightmare. Is it high? Is it low? Is it young sounding? Surprisingly grown up sounding? I DON'T FREAKING KNOW.

I mentioned earlier that I considered Justin Briner for him. I was thinking about his voice for Luck from Black Clover, which may have honestly worked a bit better, but I was pretty attached to Justin as Roolie by this point. So I had to whip out Micah.

Let me be clear. No, I do not think this works well at all. I appreciate the people who tried to see that good in it, but I honestly just don't think it works. The only reason I went for it is because Yukine's voice switches between older sounding and younger sounding throughout the show and since I could decide what Four's would sound like I said to myself "Fine. Four can be the same", found some clips, slapped it together and never looked back.

I am still looking for another voice for Four and if I find a decent one, I will include it in part two.

And last but not least...

Twilight - Aaron Mitchell Dismuke (Tamaki Amajiki - My Hero Academia)

Told ya there was another BHNA voice.

So Twi was another tricky one. As I mentioned, I was seriously considering Johnny Yong Bosch for him. More specifically, his voices for Giyu Tomioka from Demon Slayer and Kiba from Wolf's Rain (for obvious reasons). I did almost go for Kiba but something was stopping me. I'm honestly not sure what.

So I was talking to a mate (and by that I mean I rambled. A lot) about VA's and at one point he suggested Aaron Mitchell Dismuke but not for Twilight. I can't actually remember who he suggested it for but anyway, that didn't work out. But when I was looking through his work, I saw that we played Amajiki and I was curious. I listened to him and I liked it.

Okay to be fair I wanted a country accent for Twi. Of course I did. But I could not a find a decent one. They few I found were absolutely terrible. So I gave up on that and decided that was Amajiki. And that was that.

And that concludes the Links VA headcanons! I am happy with most of them and once more these are my opinion but I would love to hear your own ideas!

As I have said many times, I am working on a part two and as a sneak peak (sort of) I'll tell you two of the characters that will be featured (excluding Four, if I find him another voice).

Dink (even though he hasn't, technically shown up yet) and Malon (which is proving to be a lot tricker than I thought). There a couple more but my lips are sealed heh.

Oh and speaking of Dink, the voice I considered for Time and then thought it would be better for someone else? Yeah that's the voice that's currently in the lead to be Dink's :)

I hope enjoyed my long winded explanations! And thank you for reading/watching!

#phew #well that was fun #legend's is my favourite I think #closely follow by wild and maybe sky or wars #and like i said im very happy with wind because *ow*#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hehe... part 2...

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endeenderman · 4 years

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"Black Butler" Ash Landers x (Demon, Suicidal, Female) Reader.

Prologue:

Your name was (y/n) (l/n), you were a demon/human hybrid, you were found on the as of (five years ago from your actual age) by the queen herself, she gave you a home at the palace, and a work as the queens personal painter, and other art themed stuff, you were very pleased with your work and so did the queen but someone didn't, the one and only Ash Landers, Her Majesty's loyal butler, what a shame, he was so lovely looking and you were sure he was kind hearted as he was an angel, but not towards demons like you, even if you weren't a full one. You will wake up everyday with a smile on your face, hoping that Ash will see you as a friend, but what was the chance of that?. He will give you a cold stare and a small 'hello' before leaving, you were heartbroken every time, but you couldn't any more, this time will be the last time, and you hopped, what he will accept your feelings....

Your P.O.V.

You woke up earlier than every other day, you got dressed and started walking down the corridor that led to the dinning area, you were confident and wanted to tell Ash your feelings, that you...loved..him, but were afraid to tell him because of what you were, a bemon, he wouldn't believe you, never, but you had to try, you couldn't live with the thought that the man you loved hated you, you couldn't. As you finally made it to the dinning area there was no one there, everyone was still asleep or probably getting ready, everyone....except for your dear Ash Landers, he was looking out the window watching the sun rise, you walked towards him but stopped when you realized that he noticed you, you took a few steps back.

"Can...can..I.." you started pointing to the window.

"You know that the window is not my property, you can use it whenever you like" Ash said with his calm and almost emotionless voice. You knobbed and walked towards the window, you could see with the corner of you eye his violent eyes shinning as the sun reflected itself into his purple abyss, his silver white hair also shined, you were amassed, almost hypnotized from his features that you didn't notice yourself reaching a hand to touch his hair, he turned his eyes on you and stared at you, it took you long enough to realize what was happening that you gasped, you stayed silent and you stared back into his purple gaze.

"You can take your hand of me now" Ash said with the same tone in his voice, you quickly pulled back your hand.

"Sorry" you mumbled loud enough for him to hear, you heard him say something under his breath, something like 'filthy' or something, you turned to him, he was staring out the window once again.

"You know if you have a problem with me you can just say it for once" you said, he turned to you and smirked (I don't know if this even is possible but whatever...).

"A problem you say?, ohh (y/n), if my problem was just one I would have been so lucky" he said with a slight smile.

"And why will you say that?, you always have he on edge and ignoring me for 5 years, will you tell me what wrong?" You asked, tears starting to appear in the corners of your eyes.

"My problem?, you are my problem, ever since the queen let you in side this place, a person like you, from your kind, everything it wrong" he yelled at you, he turned to walk away but you grabbed him by his sleeve.

"Let go of me NOW" he ordered, you shook your head.

"No, I will not, I have to tell you something, I...I...I am in love with you, from the first time I saw you, and it hearts to see you ignoring me" you started, he pulled his sleeve out of your grasp, and fixed it.

"Hurts you say?, you can't feel anything, no emotions at all, this is all lies you want to fool me with, I will not stand here and listen to your nonsense" he said as he started walking away.

"NO" you cried, tears now falling down your face, "please, I..I can't live without you, my live doesn't have a purpose" you said trying to pull him back to stop walking, he soon stopped and turned around towards you, he lifted his hand and smacked your cheek, the hit was heard that you fell on the ground, you looked up at him with teary eyes, you could see anger in his eyes.

"Then die" he said and left without a word, so was this his final words?, maybe yes, maybe not, but you can take it any more, you got up from the floor and walked towards the kitchen, you opened a cabinet and took a kitchen knife, you hid it underneath your maid dress, and walked back towards your room, you had a small bag of salt in your pocket as well. As you got to your room, you locked your door, you sat on your bed and took out your knife and salt, you placed the knife inside the salt and moved it around, when you took it back out the knife was covered in salt, as you were only one part demon, it was easier to kill yourself, you grabbed the handle of the knife and turned it, making the blade face your chest, with one quick move, the knife was stabbed inside your chest, you cried, the salt burned and the cut made it worse, you slowly laid on your bed waiting for your life...to end.

Ash's P.O.V.

I was preparing Her Majesty's mail when I saw something red burst through the window, I quickly rad towards it and saw a man dressed like a woman with a chainsaw, it was a grim reaper.

"Who are you and what you want, please leave at once" I ordered, he smiled at me.

"Oh I am the one and only Grell Sutcliff, I am here to collect a soul that says will be dying in nust a few minutes." He said cheerfully, a soul?, here?.

"Whos soul are you here to collect?" I asked, he took out his 'to die list' and checked.

"Oh, its a girl round (your age) years old, and her name is (y/n) (l/n)" the reaper said, wait (y/n)?.

"Who will she die?" I asked, he smiled wider.

"Ohhhh, she died with by stabbing herself or else committing suicide." He added, so she actually did it huh?, she was only half demon witch ment faster to kill, she wasn't lying, she did..have feelings for me. I rushed towards her room only to find that her room door was locked from the inside, I knocked on the door but no response, I used all my strength to break the door so I could get to her, this was my fault, no one elses. I finally managed to break through the door, I examined the room only to find her laying on her bed, I got close to her, she was sleeping, like that night that me and the queen found her, I was such an idiot, I shook her to see if she wakes up, but unfortunately she didn't, I knew what I had to do, I opened one of my tuxedos pockets and took out a small glass bottle, they were angel tears, I have heard that these tears can heal the broken hearts and the pain, I opened it and placed it on her lips, slowly lifting up the bottle so she could drink the liquid, once the liquid was gone I placed it back in my pocket, I waited for her to wake up.

"(Y/n)....if you can listen to me.....I am sorry.....sorry this happened to you...I...I..do have feelings for you...its just that...I hated myself for that, and I got all this hatred on you...I am really sorry...I love you...(y/n)" I said, a tear started appearing in the corners of my eyes, I haven't cried for a long time, as I wiped the few tears that started making there way down my face, I felt something, a movement, I looked at (y/n), she was holding my hand.

"I...love...you..to....Ash" (y/n) said, I smile appearing on her face, I smiled as well, she was ok, and that was all I cared about, not that she was a demon, not nothing, except keeping an eye on her, just in case she goes dramatic again, as for the reaper?, he isn't claiming her soul not today, not never.

THE END.

#black butler #black butler x reader #black butler x y/n #black butler imagines #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji x reader #ash landers #ash landers x reader #ash landers imagines #anime imagines #anime #blackbutler #demon x angel #angel x reader #angel x demon #male x female #male x reader

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inviouswriting · 3 years

Text

Lich’s Puppet AU

It goes without saying this one is going to be a bit darker.

Mentions - @snow-covered-moon ‘s Shuri and polyship with her.

Warnings: I won’t cut these ones because there are some themes here. Mostly forced to drink something, and paralysis, mind control, and body modifications.

Perhaps she was careless, she tends to think she can’t be harmed, yet she still has weaknesses. She is a spirit, and a spirit can still be lured under greater magic to be enslaved. She had thought she had great immunity, that nothing would control her the way Vanth did.

Yet she can’t remember the last time she couldn’t control herself. While conscious of everything she is doing. She knew better than to leave Vanth unchecked, the necromancy in Tam-Tara should have warned her of a presence. That the worse of her nightmares to come again was happening.

His magic still has deep roots within her, there will always be that stain in her as much as her right wing. Her entire body is on fire, it feels like acid slowly eating away at her, the flames of the undead were something she hated. They burned the very soul and scarred it. Her eyes and hair matched the form Vanth wanted.

Skin almost greenish to her brown, lime green eyes and white hair. She isn’t even sure how she was snared. All she remembered was going on another mission for the scions. To check a tower in Coerthas, she could get close without alerting others. Or so she thought.

She had been chased down by a lunar Garuda. She knew the primal was fast, but given the alterations, the lunar alone caught up to her in no time. Kivera looked away from in front of her, till she flew pass the threshold of a tower. She had never been inside them, she felt dread from being in vicinity. Like Vanth’s magic scared her years ago.

Inside she had seen Ixal trapped to the walls, being used to empower the lunar primal. She keeps her feet from the ground, seeing it as fleshy matter more than an actual ground. She likens it to one of Vanth’s creations. Every part of her screams to leave, but she couldn’t with her exit closed.

“What a surprise. Who would have thought you would be here.” Kivera freezes down to her spine, her feathers stand on end, bristling at the voice. She knows this voice, deep, hollow and raspy. It does the same thing regardless in chilling her to her soul.

“What are you doing here...” She keeps her hover even more for fear of what would happen if her feet connect with the ground. She had forgotten about Garuda, it seems the primal disappeared from her entirely, or was laying in wait. She was no longer her worry. What was, is the lich who she had thought she rendered deep in the pit she had made. The furthest deep of Tartarus that she had named it Agitazione, land of the unsuffering dead.

“Why are you so surprised, you knew you can’t kill me. Even with your awakening. Not even the power you command from above could do anything. I will always come back. It took a bit of time... you left me in ashes.” Kivera turns to see the being. Vanth. He had taken a form that allowed him to blend in with others. An older elezen, with graying hair. He looked like a holy man, but Kivera knew him as far from that. What he did was horrid to both heavens and underworld.

He enslaved the dead as puppets. He led the slaughter on hundreds if not thousands of women and men during the Salem trials, one that she remembers as her first cleanse to end an entire city. She couldn’t touch the souls after Vanth took over their minds. Thanatos had instructed her, nothing good comes from a necromancer, and they did not want the souls tainted by a lich. They could not rest, nor would they ever. They chose blood magic and a great taboo together. Raising the dead is an unforgiveable sin among the underworld, tied in with enslaving the spirits was something that she was specifically trained to take out without hesitation.

Vanth was the reason she had lost two dear to her. Divinity at first when she was human, then Damien. Kivera realizes how in over her head she is. Yet she knows her loved ones, and the allies she has gained would not be able to fight someone like him. Not yet, Kan-E-Senna could, she was blessed in holy and light.

Kivera was not either of those, and she could feel her nerves on fire the longer she is lingering. In her shock she fails to notice the fleshy tendrils that creep up seeking aether energy. Kivera being full of it. All the bits had to do was connect with skin and start leeching her. How lucky would Garlean be if they score her as an ally. A powerful destructive force would raze everything. Vanth knows this, he always knew of her location, she is still a creature of habit, she clings to those that show her love.

Kivera remembers herself, and looks down to see the floor moving, arcing up towards her feet. The ends resembling a swarm of worms, making the reaper feel sick at seeing them move like this. She moves higher, and it is there that Garuda shows herself slamming full force into Kivera from the side, sending her into the nearest wall.

Kivera is fast to rebound but the walls have that same fleshy material. When she connects many tendrils surge to coil around an arm. Kivera burns them off and kicks her feet on the wall to get away from the, rubbing the others off her arms as they break apart.

Vanth just stands back to watch, keeping his control on the matter around. The imprisoned ixal reach to grab Kivera whenever she was close. The reaper not having a place to stand or rest without something trying to snare her. It will take one careless mistake on her part. One moment of weakness. Something Vanth knows every being to have. He just had to figure out where she will land to think she is safe.

Kivera fights more with Garuda, sending bursts of fire, while Garuda sends wind. They scrap together, talons and claws ripping at feathers, Kivera burning wings and biting her. Garuda using her feet and claws to grasp her target. She snares Kivera and soon pins her to a wall.

Vanth sees his chance, and swarms the tendrils onto Kivera. Each touched with a bright lime flame. Kivera feels something she hasn’t felt in ages. Pain. Pure pain. The tendrils leech life while replacing with lich flames. The color in her skin greenish but stays brown, the black of her hair turns white, and her eyes that convey her emotions stays a pure bright lime color with a glow to them. She looked the same but altered in her appearance.

Kivera couldn’t scream with the claw around her neck keeping her still. All she could even think was sparing those she loves. She rends her connection to Shuri, Estinien, Divinity and any of the children. Scions, she will never forgive them for sending her on this mission.

Vanth claps and Garuda lets Kivera down, he tests something snapping his fingers for Kivera to raise her arms. She does, there is a look of horror to her eyes at being controlled. Vanth approaches her and lifts her head. The elezen face he had chosen gives a sneer at such a prize he obtained.

“There we are. What should have happened all those years ago. If only Damien was more compliant, you could have had both, him and this life.” Kivera only glares at him, her face the only thing she has control of. Garuda leaves disappearing now that the threat is over.

Vanth circles around Kivera keeping her standing straight, he notes her glaring. He needs her more compliant. Two ixals approach Kivera from behind and take an arm while Vanth gets her to kneel down. Ignoring the hissing under her breath. She doesn’t take her eyes off of Vanth, unsure of what he is planning to do. He fishes an elixir like bottle off a belt he has, one he has safeguarded for the rare occasion he captured Kivera.

Kivera tightens her mouth knowing the liquid is for her. It is black in color, and she has seen it work once. When he used it on a maid girl back in Salem. It is to control her, it erases the mind, leaving it blank. Kivera is prided in her strong mind, but even she won’t be able to do much if it is in her system. He brewed it specific for her. A catalyst potion.

“This will go smoother if you comply. Not like anyone is going to come save you from this. By the time they even get news of you missing, you are aware they’re use to you going off and doing your own thing. They also know how powerful you are. They wouldn’t think you would be overcome so easy. Yet you did put up quite a fight against Garuda. But it shows even a god slayer like you can still slip up against them.” Vanth raises Kivera’s head, and she attempts to bite him, he uses the opportunity to hook his thumb into her mouth to keep it open.

Quickly he presses the bottle already opened with a flick of the cork off. Kivera wants to turn her head but can’t from his control and the ixal. The liquid burns, like liquid fire in her body, searing from the inside out. With the bottle emptied and cast off to break somewhere. Vanth waits.

He kneels in front of her. He was always a tall man, he might have chosen a roegadyn for their height better. But they didn’t fit the elegance he still holds. And would have raised suspicions. He had been around since Thordan’s end, leading people to follow him from the outskirts of Coerthas, those that disapproved of Aymeric still to the day.

How easy it is to lure people with the idea he can change things back the old way. Even more when he came across Fandaniel, giving him an idea of how to snare Kivera. Earning an ally through the ascian if it meant she would be dealt with.

Kivera feels white hot through her head, like everything she thought and knew was disappearing. It hurt to think, and it pained her to swallow, she tasted that bitter potion and she wanted to drag her tongue across the dirt. Though the only thing available would have been the fleshy floor of the tower. That disgusted her more.

Her last thoughts were to her loved ones. Sending apologies through the links as she burns them, her last chance to make sure they are safe.

“I am sorry... for what I am about to do. I have no choice. Please know... that the being that you will face.. is not me. Kill her.” Her laments to Divinity, she relays the same to Estinien, then too to Shuri. She ends the link before she loses herself, severing them entirely. They will feel it, like a piece of them is ripped out. She can see Divinity collapsing into tears, and the confusion on Estinien and Shuri following Divinity.

Kivera has told them endlessly, that things that a lich touches must be destroyed. That includes. Herself. It means a new cycle of spirits to begin, more tragedies to unfold. Kivera wishes even more that she could have used her former abilities. She lets her last thoughts be of the loved ones.

When she opens her eyes again, she looks up to Vanth. Her voice hollow and echoes in the tower.

“I am at your command.” One final touch to her, a bone wyvern rests on her. A gift but also a symbiote parasite to keep her under his control. Vanth folds his arms.

“Good, I won’t have you attack yet. We need to wait a little bit per Fandaniel’s request for a better opportunity. Now come with me. We have much to do.”

#Lich puppet au #Kivera #shuri fontaye #vanth #original concepts

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thelordstears · 3 years

Text

Writing totally isn’t a passion of mine *Wink, wink*

"Fools, always think they're the smartest one in the room, as is the same with saints, it would seem." - Moores Thomas

"The crow must have a very watchful eye; for even his flock is called a murder." - Valkronin Sambridge

"Sometimes what others do to obtain peace leaves you in pieces." - Bentley Harlem

"He is the enemy screams my ragged bone mind; again and again the shouts of my father echo in the night of my darkness, and again and again I let the lie envelop like blood in my chest." - Alastair Sambridge

"This wicked heart doth not beat lovely." - Valkronin Sambridge

"We're pawns in a game that doesn't fucking care; the King and Queen have left the brooks and knights bleeding on the edge of the board. All that's left of us is the way we move across a checkered board, wondering why black, white and red is the only color we can see through these loyalty blinded eyes." - Flitz Haktoll

"We're all lookin' for glory at the end of a faded bullet; grins echoing in the decaying lights of justice and heroism." - Benjamin Scotsfire

"Glory is not found in the pursuit of death. It's often found in the pursuit of something greater." - Henry Onlark

”Lies fall slick from the tongue of the foolish.” - Cross Smykens

"I left the war; but it never left me." - Jay Foster

"Ya know; a man once told me to turn my rage inta power. Let it be the kick of my bloodied rifle, but as I turned that rage to power, as I let that bloodied rifle bruise my shoulder; I learned that power's name was corruption all along." - Maximus Bates

"When everything is ripped decadent from your veins you find a substitute for that abyss in your heart; and I've filled it with cracks of who I'm not." - Terminus Hydra

"People like us don't get third chances. We just get ta live the rest of our lives in this flat circle, we're doomed ta try and run on these hand me down shoes; but we'll just get right back where we started. Standin' stagnant in our cruelty." - Scottenmire Travol

"You haunt many a folk 'round here and you don't even know the names of the graves carved into the stone of your heart; everyone's nameless too ya. But everyone's got a name and a couple thousand stories to tell, what merry little tale do you think I plan on orchestrating tonight?" - Monte Pelamo

"I thought I was raising a rifle to fate; but then I bled as my finger curled around the trigger." - Alastair Sambridge

"Glory and death often go hand in hand; interlocking bloodstained fingers within one another's as to best watch humanity flitter and fade away into dust and ashes. Have you ever noticed how cruel people get when life fucks 'em over? How evil seeps through the good man's heart all because he had a bad fucking day? I'm the seed of evil planted into the good man's ribcage, blossoming like a black rose of thorns and shadow in the heart of kindness." - Diablo Bohnsello

"I already walked that path brother. I already have a coffin fitted for a man that ain't me; it's why I'm so fucking dangerous." - Hectorvallo Bloodwain

"If you can't fucking get something out of doing what's right, than what's the point of being the good guy?" - Trent Aval

"Oi'm just a stumblin' deer, wonderin' where these breadcrumbs will lead me." - McKady Cornwall

"Some men call me a mad man. But I imagine you'll call me a monster, or karma, in some wicked sense. Who I am is usually defined differently for every man I come across. They all have their own little tale. Some weep as they read the poetry scribed like scars in their heart, some rejoice in the wicked man's tale. But you, little one shall die, in some strange and peculiar way. Not in the sense that I'll bury you, but in the sense that I'll wipe your slate clean and scribe little pieces of my darkness onto your blackened pages." - Westell Gramstein

"Crazy and misunderstood is a very thin line many walk." - Westell Gramstein

"I was stuck in a shadow like trance, dancing with the light of my very own moon. It was under the decadent and decaying lights of that pale light cast from the sky that I was stricken by a very sudden madness. A very quiet, madness." - Shackelstan Puppeteer

"Any man can become a shadow wisped secret of himself. How do ya think the darkest of creatures are made, brother? They start off as good people doin' good things. But sumthin' comes along the line and rips them from their shadow, leavin' them defenseless against the dark." - Valterren

"In all madness, my friend, there is what created it. Dare you tread in the black waters of my mind?" - Westell Gramstein

"When it's your life or mine I tend to get a little selfish, a little cowardly. And these days, the bullet is my only saving grace." - Kyro Bellford

"I stand stagnant in a pool of others blood, wishing it was my own." - Alwine Hickory

"I looked for who I am in all the wrong places. Like the way a boys hurt tasted on my heart, or the way a cigarette burnt my tongue. It's as if I never really found me. As if I never will. Because in all honesty, I feel as though I was never someone that could truthfully be called Inazo Lizomann." - Inazo Liomann

"I'm licking fate off of the barrel of temptation's revolver, my heart splintered and weary. Once you get a taste of the things that damn you, like the way cruelty tastes on your tongue, you begin to fall away from yourself. I swore up and down I'd survive. But I didn't. I never had." - Huntsdale Klizollo

"Unity with control is like putting a cat in water. You think it won't resist, you'll think that peace can be found within the feral animal you've dropped into the waters of unified revolution. But eventually, claws start to fly and the once unified civilization becomes nothing but the ashes it once started as." - Hex Sweeney

"I'm cursing you with the thought of life in the midst of the death of those you called friend." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"They always say, oh go ahead, open up. Let those scars bleed so you can reach the light everyone's always preaching about. And then you let your emotions come running from your lip like a river, and they put a dam in your mind and tell ya no one gives a fuck about the kid of trouble and bone. So you pick up a few bad habits, you throw another fist against a kid in your same situation and make due with what ya've fucking got. As if the dam built in your mind keeps all but the rage in." - Flizo Thompson

"I'm old bones buried beneath the rubble of identity. Don't matter how much I struggle, how much I try to survive. Because I'm already dead, and at this point, bein' a walking grave don't sound so appealing. So I burn up my lungs and pray I drift away with the smoke." - Ramo Bonewitz

"No one cares about you Ramo, you're already a ghost. All I have to do is give that little extra push into the unknown." - Quentin Satchel

"You won't make it out of this alive. You'll try. You'll walk mile after mile. But you're just a tombstone with legs." - Quentin Satchel

"My thirst for blood started young. The first day I saw the driblets of crimson drop to the tile floor was when a kid brought a razor blade to school and drew blood against his bully. An act of defense. And gradually my thirst for this kind of behavior grew. It started with rooster fights, watching the little fuckers claw at each other with those sharp nailed talons of theirs. But that gets boring quick. So I moved onto dogs. And that evolved into watching wolves fight in my father's barnyard. But eventually you get sick and tired of fur and fangs, so you settle for something more dangerous. Something more rewarding. My father taught me the game of gladiatorial fighting. Civil. Just. Merciful. And as I watched that man cut his brother down in the blink of an eye, oh I knew I could never go back. And I never would. I became a master of the arena, sitting on my throne of gladiator and gladiatrix's corpses." - Sevelsworth Hickory

"The blood of my father's victims sits on my hands, as if it was me pullin' the trigger. As if all along, I were pullin' the strings. Sometimes, when all ya can do is watch tragedy unravel, you get this funny lil idea that it's all your fault." - Alwine Hickory

"I was raised on the Devil's backbone of sin, standin' like the snarl of a rifle. Don't you come ta wonder what makes monsters like me? Brother, life has always been what makes monsters outta human men." - Cavowit Hickory

"We're all just thieves and bastards lickin' up the pieces 'a fate we got left. So why you gon' go damnin' me for preventin' the crooked bitch from comin' for me sooner? Son, I'm just doin' what it takes ta survive this Devil's country." - Stalkman Hickory

"I got a tattoo runnin' below my eye that tells the truth, as if the grim reaper has put her eternal mark on me." - Henio Bonstook

"You'll become a reflection, of sorts. You won't exactly, look like me. You won't exactly, look like my gunmetal stained past. But it'll be there, lurking in the corners of the mirror. Waitin'. Watchin'. Readyin' itself to pounce on the little gunslinger who thought he could, and that my friend. Is the day you'll die." - Ulfrich Diggory

"It's not about, who you are in the now. It's about who you're gonna be after I start carving little pieces of you off with the edge of my gunslinger malice." - Ulfrich Diggory

"Truthfully, I killed someone for that woman. I carved little pieces from off my heart, begging her to love them, but she was a Devil wrapped in gossamer, silk and roses, telling me that our little secret was nothing more then a flickering streetlight, providing little protection to the darkness of the night. And I suppose, my streetlight flickered out, leaving me with nothing but the sparks of a cigarette and the warmth of a revolver." - Grant Filepen

"Where once faith swung like curtains behind my ribcage, now it feels more like a couple of nooses, whispering my fate into the winds of my feeble, decaying sense of self." - Amaziah Bokenmay

"To the circus you shall go, to lose your mind and find a darker soul." - Moores Thomas

"Truthfully we're all heroes in some capacity. But some cast that away, they tear it screaming from their heart, our heroism often begs when faced with greedy fingers, but the cruel don't care. And to all the heroes who invited the kindness in, I hope it didn't take too many pieces away from you, to let the fact that cruelty exists despite the bravery in you break you." - Kirsten Hezofrein

"The cruel call peace a revolution just so they have an excuse to kill the protestors." - Sebastian Dovens

"The blood ran black from my wrist, dripping down like candle wax damnation." - Joey Alderson

"Skinny and starvin' I died, sittin' on the edge of my frozen over revolver. I shivered, I shook. And mate, I didn't make it ta the end of the tunnel, I was caught by the traffic of beasts, but 'ow peculiar is it, that they stared at me with eyes I recognized? As if pe'raps, friends can become enemies within the span of a god damn blink." - Arv Harknizia

"Darkness has to blot out the sun for light to shine later on." - Gustave X. Van Velk

"Those in power are often the weakest man kind's got to offer." - Garth Yeager

"I saw life flash before my eyes in the banging of a rifle, sins sitting cruel on a masked man's sleeve. It was in that moment of death that I cut humanity from out my heart, becoming something unfamiliar. But these cackles of insanity start to feel beautiful." - Tahasha Moonlight

"Life keeps forcing me down, these shadows start to whisper into my mind that the light is just outta reach. And those damned shadows rip at the threads of the sun's golden rays, ripping into the warmth of Summer forevermore. I'm telling you man, you think Summer memories will always be goofing off under the hot sun, playing videogames with your best friend as your mom brings you cookies and lemonade. But all I can hear now is the gunfire melody of the hunt, sickening cackles ringing in my ears like poppers goin' off to damn early." - Scottie Bloodvallo

"Death is something we can not avoid. It catches all souls who live, it lingers in the cold mountains and in the hot springs, hiding in the shadows and the light. Wherever we go it is hiding, always hiding. But I find it so, innately cruel that sometimes, death catches up to men and women who still have miles to walk. People who from then on out have to walk mile by begrudged mile in death's wicked boots." - Caesar Cagelstan

"Men like me, men of the mountains and cold harsh winds of Antarctica don't really fuckin' live. Sure, we breathe. But as an old friend said there's such an ugly difference in that, cause as I puff another hazed, stale old cigarette, smoke drifting towards the Heavens, I come ta realize these angels wear smoke wings and ember halos, praying that this warmth is enough ta melt the ice in their hearts." - Daryl Fate

"People think that because they've walked comfortable miles, they know what it means, to truly be alive. But breathing and living are a very thin line many cling too, as if it was the lit fuse of a pact of dynamite, praying that it doesn't cover them in shrapnel truths and war bound horrors. I no longer live. I breathe. And there is such an ugly difference in that." - Mankar Hagmallio

"You don't know this city like I do kid. There's sharks swimmin' in the waters of these secrets, boy, and you're starting to smell a helluva lot like blood." - Roman Ustolgio

"I'm a Diablo, friend, and you're here for a handshake." - Abundio Garciel

"They called me a fucking misfit, as if who I am wasn't enough for society. And so as I washed myself in the blood of my innocence, draped in the crimson shawl of my identity, I came to realize no one, and I mean no one at fucking all, can add up to the expectations of a civilization ruled under the boot of the Heavens. And so we call ourselves angels, as if that made us holy in any sense of the fucking word." - Nicolla Bravajin

“ These skyscrapers stand like dead goliaths of faith and virtue, reminding us that New York city is where identities go to die and justice comes to wither and writhe underneath the heat of another darkened day. “ - Bartley Exodus

“ There comes a time when every man must choose who he wishes to be. He can walk the road seldom traveled or walk amongst the villains, slipping a mask of fangs over his face as to hide the bravery flickering in them golden eyes of his.” - Bartley Exodus

“ I pick up my old, rusted revolver and carve a couple dead men's names into the bullets and shove 'em into this chamber. Did I say dead men? Sorry. I've got a tendency to talk future tense." - Bartley Exodus

“ There's a locked room in my head where all the thoughts used to go.” - Bardem Lazolla

“ You know, all my life I've had to be tough, had to be just a bit stronger than the last guy; but I'm tired of the act. This mask is beginning to slip and I fear who I'll be once it falls. I've been someone else for so long that I don't know who I'll be once I'm me. “ - Bardem Lazolla

“ Isn't it strange how some people choose to be stuck in a nightmare while everyone else is living the dream? They can say we're all crazy, nutcases who belong in the looney bin. But in the end I'd rather be crazy than normal. I'd rather be me than someone I never was.” - Axelo Hayware

“ We've gotta be accepting, because humanity is built on love; but some people think power and hate is what gets you a name remembered. Yeah sure, names like Adolf Hitler and Julius Caesar are prevalent in the history books; but who do you look up to? Martin Luther King Jr or the fool who let power get to his head?” - Axelo Hayware

“ Humanity isn't doomed, we're just a little stuck is all." - Axelo Hayware

“ You know how when you're just a kid you dream of one day changing the world? Well look at you! Look! You did it; I promise. We're all changing the world daily with our actions, wondering if we ever meant a damn thing in the end; and I'll admit, I stumbled a few times. This path had a couple of roots along the way that felt like a noose wrapping around my dreams, forcing me to sputter and choke on nightmares.” - Tom Hanson

“ I refuse to let the gunshot melody become my song. “ - Tom Hanson

“ Look, there's a time and place to be a hero. And that's everywhere and all across the clock.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm just the civilian who watched in wonder as the sky burned with glory bound promises, smelling the way they broke in the air.” - Spencer Vokeswagon

“ I'm falling inch by inch; wondering why the fall is such a slow descent, it has taken years for me to reach the atmosphere, and I have been burning ever since I first touched a broken star with human fingers that never should've found those old secrets dusted in the corner of a shelf in her son's bedroom.” - Valentine Valks

“ I shall never discover for I fear taking a step forward.” - Valentine Valks

“ Was that taut leather in his eyes or love?” - Valentine Valks

“ He is cruel and unjust, claiming himself an angel as he rips the wings from other's backs if only to stitch them onto his own. Is it such a sin to give life to the devil whom would steal it? I didn't know, I plead to the Heavens. But in my skull I hear the booming voice of God fracturing my pieces, and he tells me, "It matters not. He is your blood; and so you shall bleed in his place." And like a fool I accept my punishment as Jesus once did. I am bleeding on a crucifix of my son's sins, crown of thorns wrapped around my head as all the color bleeds from me. Black and white blend to a warped sense of grey; and all I know becomes fogged and misty. “ - Valentine Valks

“ I was raised a warrior, fighting battles of mind and blade, because in a world where evil lurks in every corner; everyone needs to be a hero or have the capability to be one. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ The true warrior fights for what she loves and what she knows to be true.” - Kadlin Paulson

“ I'm an old tree trunk covered in the scars of the hatchet; and I know they dare not remember my name. For if the hatchet were to remember the name of every tree it cut its handle would begin to rot. Because to cut and cut and cut; the hatchet must have slain a couple of once sturdy trees. But I will stand sturdy forevermore. “ - Kadlin Paulson

“ I was young when I learned to keep a watchful eye on all that one loves; for everything has a darkness waiting inside of them, prowling in the depths of all saint's bones, waiting to pounce on the weary hearted followers of God. Dare not let this darkness prevent you from stepping into the light; for this is how the shadows in your ribcage win, how the demons start cackling with a strength they didn't once possess. “ - Nial Moorannan

“ My hands are stained with the blood of every man I've ever been.” - Nial Moorannan

“ I have watched the sun set one too many times; aiming the scope of this fox hound's rifle a thousand and three times, always me in my sights. Always me I watch go down in a howling scream of blood lit confessions and regret cackling at the midnight sky ever burning.” - Nial Moorannan

“A serpent followed us into our perfect little garden of Eden and stood watchful at our forbidden trees; eyes beady and forever burning with an emptiness that was never quite human. And he stripped the roses from Heaven; he tore the angels from a once clear sky and cackled as fire erupted through the clouds. And so all the angels of Eden fell; forever fell. On that day I died a death like no other, dreaming of beauty as I fell from Heaven, grasping the burning clouds wondering why death tasted like a memory on its way." - Nial Moorannan

“ There's a black serpent slitherin' in me ribcage; darin' me ta take a step forward in this dance with me shadow, and I dance, and I dance, and I bloody dance. A pirouette in the soddin' dark of me own bloody moon. “ - Arnold Schull

“ First time I died was when I were covered in da blood of boys sent howlin' ta an early grave, dagger drippin' crimson wif' regret. Second time I died was when I shook da hand of a masked devil, anarchy and violence howlin' just behind me. And mate; I've died many more times. “ - Arnold Schull

“ I've neva' seen 'is face. But those eyes dance wif' somethin' sinister. “ - Arnold Schull

“ Sometimes we hit the clouds before we make it to Heaven.” - Armellos Crescendo

“ Feather by feather who you are will be restored. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ Rejoice, my friend; the sun of humanity has yet to sink. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ I got fight left in my old bones and people to protect with all I got, so I roll up my sleeves and stick a cigarette between my teeth, letting the smoke be a warning of the fire that roars inside of me. “ - Armellos Crescendo

“ My father once told me that we have a choice when faced with the edge of a bullet; we either run from it or let it dig into our hearts. We're either the shield or the one that's behind it. And my mother once said that the world is a sorrowed plain of darkness; we're just the stars living in the blanket of shadow. And these words echo in my mind as I try to push back against the life I've been living, the sorrow ached life I've been given. “ - Ariel

"There's a storm in me heart. It rumbles and cackles with lightning and thunder; red rain pouring down on me cracked and broken ribcage, and as I try ta rest I feel the storm brew like death in this weary little fool. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I didn't pull the trigger, but I din'it stop anyone from lettin' the bullet soar neither. “ - Annabelle Courtney

“ I was a good woman once. But ever since I met that woman underneath the streetlights, I knew that I was a goner; she wore her nails red as blood, leather jacket draped over her shoulders as she snarled at the sky and all who made her the way she is. And as I fell through the ever lit skies of her rage I became something much less than who I am. She once dug sharp nails into my cheeks and snarled at me to paint the walls the color of my namesake, and with mournful regret I watched the white walls become a ruby red. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ She's just a wild dog that doesn't know how to calm herself down.” - Ruby Vollstale

“ I once told myself that the fall is a long way down; but as I started to trip, the fall felt like only a few begrudged seconds. “ - Ruby Vollstale

“ Before one can fall head first into death he must go through the echo of life.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dropping like flies swatted by the electric swatter; dying as flashes of light in the nebula abyss of earth.” - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I was born curious, my friend. So I dug into the truths of philosophy and secrets, tearing my measly little claws into the greatest poets man kind ever knew trying to find the purpose of a life so obsolete. And I discovered that in truth; life is what we make it. But it also happens to be heavily influenced by our surroundings. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ I look into the stars of Heaven and often wonder if it's angels or graves in the sky or if that perhaps the sun is a culmination of all the burning wings set ablaze to give humanity warmth on event the harshest of winters. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ We are dualities of what we've done; wondering if what we didn't do condemns us in the end. “ - Zecheriah Holyton

“ Humanity is a vessel; of what I can never tell. All I know is that we're Babushka dolls." - Zecheriah Holyton

“ It's funny, how people will look at the unwell man with such fucking disgust; they say, "Look at the battered whore of a man! Sipping on the delusion that he is something other then his madness!" But don't they understand I'm trying to stuff myself so full of placebos that this fucked up thing I've become finally passes me by? “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ These emotions whir around my mind like cannons and gunfire, always hitting me down to rock bottom. But then I soar! Oh how I fucking soar. But I'm always falling within a month; laughing at the thought of splatting bloodied against rock bottom once again. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ They always say you're strong for fighting the mental illness, but if they could see my heart they'd recoil and ask me to be put in a mental ward for all the thoughts that swim like death in this black watered river of my fucked up mind. “ - Arthur Wellburn

“ I'm just a nobody looking at the world through the eyes of Arthur Wellburn, wondering why I can never see a reflection of my mania. I'm stuck in this little corner nowadays, as if I'm just this little monster in a cage of his mind; and I'm always thinking the cure to my disease is a revolver shoved in my mouth and a wildly loud BANG! BANG! BANG! It'd be so much easier to die than to live, you know? So much easier to let the weight of my burdens fall onto my families shoulder like a ghost that lingers on the other side of death. But I never do it, I never do! And I get to wondering, "Why?" Because as life guns me down; I cackle in the red rain." - Arthur Wellburn

“ Look, I was just a kid hiding his truths behind dorky smiles and girls I didn't even have a crush on. But my brother, my sister, they were always gonna accept me as I am; there were never strings attached to our bonds; never scissors waiting to slice. “ - Tony Ikelfur

“ I am nothing more then a messiah of the broken and condemned; come one come all, safety is found in the comforting embrace of the shadow mistress. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I walk within the light if only to watch it fade; striding beneath the sun if only to watch it sink one last time. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I was born under the shadows of pinewood trees and howling wolves.” - Antonio Sharp

“ As the world comes to a grueling close who do you think will walk into paradise? The holy; or the heretics of life? Who do you think will be praised by the oh so holy creator of darkness but they who embraced it? We are beasts and bastards in these shadows my brother; so become one with the edging blade of destiny. Let it cut pieces of your identity from off your skin, let it call to you with the silver shadow of a soon to be crimson soaked dagger. We are children of the shadows; messiahs of the night. Dare the hero walk into the night with his rifle and bravery he will be shown as an example as to why the darkness is superior. “ - Antonio Sharp

“ I'm cheap smoke rising from the New York sky.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ Ever since the day I dug a grave I ain't been who I am. The lantern shed a pale yellow light across my face, cigarette stuck between my gritted teeth as I huffed and puffed, shovel working hard as the soil dug up beneath me. The moon was cast sorrowful on this broken man's soul, the reflection of a wolf dancing in the stream right by the old cemetery that knows too many forgotten names. You really don't wanna meet who I became that cold, Sundeh night. Because not even I can face the bastard in the reflection. “ - Ambrose Walsh

“ You can't trust the dogs who kept on a diggin' despite the way the soil reeked of death.” - Ambrose Walsh

“ You know how you try and be who you are after tragedy? You cling to the memory of the smile in your mirror and convince yourself that you're still that person? Because I tried real damn hard to be that person after the fire. But I know that boy is gone; buried underneath the secrets he found in a town he thought knew peace. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I hate to break it to ya, but angels don't fucking exist. We're all just people living our sorrowful little lives selling ourselves to the dream that it gets better one day. But it doesn't, it really doesn't. I've been trying to find that happily ever after for a long time, but the man that haunts my memory? He sits in the recesses of darkness like a leather draped beast always waiting to drag the hopeful into his devious maw. Truth is life wasn't made to be lived. Life's only purpose is to serve us to death on a silver platter and I don't wanna stand for that. I wanna live but know it's impossible. “ - Alex Devonwood

“ I tried to tell my story; but no one roots for the underdog who never bit back, the dog who never barked his truths to the sky. People prefer tales of perseverance over the tale of the boy who never won. It gives them false hope, that they can be like the boy who won. But the boy who lost eats their dust." - Alex Devonwood

“ I used to be full of this joy that you couldn't really kill; but that man, he tore it from me. Sorrow leeched at the edges of his eyes; a dogs bark snarling somewhere in his throat, and he told me that we all live our lives confined in a locked room. And that the wrong person had found my key. And into my locked room he walked, ripping my heart from out the walls, digging into the wallpaper to discover the secrets I hid like confessions in my chest. And it was on that day that I was left as barebones of who I was. “ - Alec Bonehoff

“ I was just a fucking kid, man, I shouldn't have had to bare the weight of my brother's unguilted conscience. “ - Desmondo Dreadful

“ Sometimes ve chase our dreams. Sometimes zey chase us. “ - Luka Schiefer

“ People are always gonna hate even though it don't get no one anywhere, so when faced with this rage, when faced with this hatred ever seething. Take a few deep breaths and remember emotions often lie; and given the chance they'll shoot ya down with pellets of doubt and fear.” - Gary Heartlock

“ I was just a kid enjoying the company of himself, always told he just weren't a good influence. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ When you let the armor of lies shed from off your skin you start to grow a tougher skin of truth; don't you know that's why Icarus laughed as he fell? “ - Gary Heartlock

“ Be so authentically you that the hateful use you as an example of what's wrong with humanity; be so yourself that you set the bricks for the next man's path. “ - Gary Heartlock

“ You know how it is, right? You try and do the right thing but get caught up in all the bad of this world, wishing you had just stayed the fuck put.” - Dominiqua Claytor

“ Somedays I look back at the bridges I burned; memory of my eyes watering stinging my mind, the idea that I once smelled the smoke killing me from the inside. But I learn my lesson and move on. “ - Dominiqua Claytor

“ My brother and I are just two cold cases no one cares to look into; because who the hell cares about the death of identity? Who cares about the cigarette that never sparked up? “ - Adella Furrow

“ With my tattered boots and old leather jacket I walked into the unknown, and from whence I never returned. “ - Abel Romiro

“ Everyone stared me down, blaming me for the way fate unraveled, and I started to wonder if that town was home or just another house of too many damn walls. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That town was just too filled with devils for a single angel to do a damn thing.” - Abel Romiro

“ I've been both Cain and Abel truthfully; both Judas and the apostles who followed faithfully. But in the end I betrayed my own namesake, blood of a brother staining my once pure hands; and on that day I killed the hero inside of me. On that day the vultures flocked around my heart; pecking at what was soon to be dead. “ - Abel Romiro

“ That man locked me in a cage of the mind and told me to flay these pieces of identity from off my skin layer by layer. I bled for hours on the meat hook. A starving and skinny crow I became; yearning for a day where death didn't seem like a dream. And I found it in the hearts of my shield sisters. “ - Aadab Zivell

“ They say good fortune comes to he who raises a pistol in the name of peace; but often the man who slings bullets and sins ain't the man who finds the stairway to Heaven. “ - Aristead Solace

“ I've spent my life huntin' the cruel, finding them in different states and dead end alleyways. But still that one case sends shivers like death up my spine. Think of a lion; blood covered maw snarling inside of a cage it called the world, now take this lion and put him in a field full of gazelle. What will you get but a slaughter? That's what that man was to the world. Just a lion in a field of waiting gazelle. “ - Aristead Solace

“ Sometimes the heroes, they think their villains because ya gotta break a few commandments to stop the sinnin' man, and we call ourselves regretful devils. But we're just human, huh? And that's what made all the difference." - Aristead Solace

"Humanity. Kind one moment. Cruel the next. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I have come to learn that there is an evil plaguing this world, it's wrapped in barbed wire and gunfire violence, the rage within sitting heavy in the open chest. And it goes by the wicked name of humanity. But simply because humanity is wicked does not mean that all of humanity is wicked. You'll find the kind ones somewhere waiting for you; but you are sure to find the wicked man often in a world that operates on kill or be killed. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ I believe that this world is kind despite the bad apples in the barrel; though those few bad apples started to rot the rest of the seeds within; the water roaring with the infection that came with the sin. Unfortunately just one bad apple effects the whole barrel. So one bad man effects the whole population. “ - Varkens Willowbrook

“ Somedays, the wolf; he wins. He trots around my ribcage victorious as can be, but that's when he gets cocky, when he begins to get careless. So the half-winged angels in me swoop down like a reaper's scythe and banishes the wolf to the locked door in my mind; where all the horrors go to starve. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Ever since my father first laid a fist against my mother's cheek justice breathed through me as if I were a vessel in which it could see. And I told justice that I would dare not go blind. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ I pick up this blade; knowing one day I must turn it on thyself. “ - Salvatore Graham

“ Oh you know me; just a child of the old night sky, singing the blues as sorrow passes me by with a mournful sort of smile, knowing I'll come back around to her place in a day or two. “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I'm just cigarette smoke chasing trouble.” - Franco Jonwitz

“ I take this old hat from off my head and read the poems that've been scribed in my ribcage, sadness following the words and prose I speak to the empty night sky. I've been a boy of sorrow ever since ma and pa became graves, moving along to an old orphanage with the scent of sadness wafting from off my papa's old, white suit jacket, hands and tears hiding somewhere in the fabric of that coat. I hold pieces of him inside of my heart, pieces of my mother hidden inside of my smile; and I guess there's sumthin' beautiful about that, huh? “ - Franco Jonwitz

“ I must confess, I've named a few of the stars after the ghosts that follow me, praying that they can fly up to the sky and find Heaven. But here they remain in my mind; reminding me that with sorrow comes trouble, and with Franco Jonwitz comes the inevitable idea that death kills before ya die." - Franco Jonwitz

“ War rains heavy over the weary soldiers who didn't make it past the gunfire; the ones who survived selling themselves to this ideology that their sins were for some greater good. But trouble etches its way into the bones of all whom pulled a trigger in the name of glory, sin or their own self gain. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I lost everything, my friend, so a sin I became. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ Random acts of violence are often the ones that drive a man halfway to insanity, and the acts of violence he chooses to commit are the ones that drive him the full mile. “ - Terminus Hydra

“ I am a bad man. Dare not let my past tell you otherwise. If the people I knew where to speak of who I was they'd say he was a loving man who didn't let his tragedy define him; but speak to my enemies and they'll spit my name like venom on their breath. Two men tell two very different stories. My father would say I am a man of honor, but an old friend would call me the serpent to his corrupted and decaying garden of Eden." - Terminus Hydra

“ These scars on my legs tell the tale of a girl who lost herself too early; and it seems I can't hide my history from peering and bloodshot eyes. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ My son tells me that one day, when I realize that who I am is beautiful despite the scars I'll find the wings had always been in my mind rather then on my back. But these scars, these horrific scars; they prevent the wings from growing ever again. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ Here lies Mayell Da Ville; the ghost who found life too late. “ - Mayell Da Ville

“ There's a wolf on my shoulder; snarlin' at the frontlines and tellin' me ta stain my rifle in the blood of the innocent, and with a grin dancin' with moonlight I head inta the shadows and play myself a little game of huntsman and the lion. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ My father raised me ta be a killer. You should expect nothing but the bang of my rifle. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ Once you get blood on your hands it begins ta grow like a garden in your chest. But there's sumthin' different about this haunted little flowerbed. You begin ta realize that your ribcage was once Eden, but slowly, as the blood trickled down your fingers, Adam and Eve started fleein', the angel of flamin' blade nothing more then your heart that slowly faded ta black and grey. And as the serpent slithers onta your shoulder, you begin ta realize temptation lives in the hearts of all man kind. And only a special few accept their primal urges ta become nuthin' but a slaughterhouse on a cold Sunday afternoon. “ - Dekiah Doorvenstail

“ We were never wolves, my friend. But fragile people with hearts that can break and minds that can scar easy, but dare not turn to the shadows for comfort. They hold a dagger in one hand; and they hide it in the crevices of their darkness.” - Sabu Thorn

“ I think that if one is to find peace within themselves, they must first find peace within their scars. “ - Sabu Thorn

“ Eons ago I lost my mind.” - God

“ They say that dead men tell no tales; so who will whisper the tale of humanity once I'm done with it? “ - God

“ Everyone's always saying God's not dead. He's with us he's with us! But as I come down from my heavenly throne; the blood of humanity staining my shawl of lies and secrets; you'll pray that I am. But all your prayers have fallen on listening ears friend; and yet they never come to fruition, do they? “ - God

“ In the face of evil; silence is compliance.” - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ They don't tell you that the fall is so easy. They don't tell ya that we're all one crooked grin away from violence; so I take a steady step forward and throw a fist or two towards the evil that sits violent in this town of unwelcome shadows. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ I've always tried to understand the enemy; walk a mile or two in their shoes, but Milos' boots are just too damn heavy and stuck in the muck of his powerful identity. “ - Gustave X. Van Velk

“ My sanity peels away in whispers and shadows.” - Cartniza Harvester

“ The word safe is such a fucking lie; no one ever is. “ - Cartniza Harvester

“ I don't know why this heart beats like a slowly rotting flower.” - Mackton Stoneshire

“ They say this Queen of madness is a revolver's shadow standing above peace; and she is. Because as she walks down these halls my bones shiver with shadows and things you could never dream of. Because she's a nightmare in the head of the weary; grinning deviously before she sins another deadly sin. And as my eyes shift to the checkered floors of this old mental ward; I know she can sense my fear. “ - Mackton Stoneshire

“ I'm still stuck under these shadows that fog my mind; heart roaring empty in the ribcage of a coffin. “ - Rupen Schello

“ I can still remember the night flames erupted inside my home; they now flash like colored lights in my memory, my parents' smiles becoming nothing but a shadow I can no longer follow. “ - Rupen Schello

“ A man with a memory can never be free of his torment.” - Rupen Schello

“ Every choice I ever made led to the death of who I am.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I never meant to fall; but I was born with the belief that I had wings, and so I leapt from blinding heights expecting to soar. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ The day I killed a man is the day I died. As his skull cracked against the bar stool; groaning and dying in the most grotesque way who I am started bleeding from the corners of my eyes as those two devils beside me laughed and laughed and laughed. “ - Mervin Gavinwood

“ He sits in the edges of my memory like a crow just waiting for his murder to come on along.” - Mervin Gavinwood

“ I've just been trying to cope with this loss of who I am for a long time; clinging to memories of him like a blanket that keeps me warm. But there's holes in this wool blanket; letting the cold settle into my bones. “ - Carol Corin

“ I weep for a life never lived; a death already fated. “ - Hexi Moorenfowl

“ Every detective has got her case, right? The one that drives her halfway to insanity because things just aren't adding up. I tried so hard to find those girls, I tried so hard to find that man's wife. But in the end it was a cold case that never went warm. “ - Maryland Fainrick

“ Mysteries often end in tragedy.” - Maryland Fainrick

“ I woke up in a foreign bed wondering why a stranger looked at me in the mirror; that was when I died an unfamiliar death. Falling from the heights of a Heaven I never deserved. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ I choked on who I am a long time ago. And I don't think I can ever swallow my truths; because they taste so fucking vile. “ - Kiddy Wendellburn

“ "When you realize who you are, it's your job to become that person. “ - Adrella Soderit

“ We're all dreamers trying to find our happily ever after despite the nightmares that find us in the light; but don't you think it's the way we react to this darkness that defines who we are? “ - Adrella Soderit

“ So do me a favor and accept yourself won'tcha? Even when everyone around you condemns who you are. Even if you gotta keep that acceptance a secret in a little jar until one day, you can let those torch bugs fly into the open air." - Adrella Soderit

“ I don't know what one would call him. But he feasts on the sacrilege of identity and flesh, sinking his teeth into innocence as if it were a divine, juicy, blood dripping steak. I'm just the remnants of the girl I used to be, and as I remember his parched tongue against my skin a shive runs cold down my spine and my fighting instincts kick in. As if my mind is a clock forever running backwards. Minutes and hours mixed into a relived past. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I remember his smile. Filled with teeth and unkempt flesh. “ - Marlia Ferotosia

“ I listened to her sorrows. Her troubles. Her secrets and confessions. But she was torn from this world much too early. And that is a sin a man like me can never forgive. “ - Zack Mordell

“ The old soul is supposed to fade before the young one. But fate is a very cruel mistress; dancing with those who don't know the rules to the deadly tango. “ - Zack Mordell

“ I'm a fading symphony wondering when my last notes will play out into the wind, but I keep singing. “ - Zack Mordell

“ Healing will come after the scars stop bleeding, so a little word of advice, don't stab those dagger like thoughts into your skin. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say they aren't themselves, and I get that; sometimes it's difficult to admit that we're changing. Difficult to admit growth feels uncomfortable in the hurting mind. But eventually you'll grow into this new you. You'll find that it's often like a scab. It only forms to protect ya from the infection a wound leaves. “ - Cordemlia Munstwain

“ Some people say love at first sight don'it exist. And, I don't fink' it were love at first sight. But love at first spoken word. Love developed inside da poetry we spoke underneath da dyin' lights of the street. He's a broken man, but I built 'im new pieces and told 'im ta shimmer and shine like a star in the night sky; and it feels as though when I put a lovin' finger on 'is cheek dat he's started ta feel more human. As if 'e's no longer a whiskey stained ghost. “ - Daubellia O’Snair

“ Fate twists in some awfully strange ways, huh? You could be a normal, everyday girl, fighting hardly noticeable battles and then in the blink of an eye tragedy rips through the air like a bullet in your fucking teeth. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Sometimes you gotta make a choice. Live or die. And sometimes you'll do both.” - Alexia Hathorn

“ We're the scar ridden angels of Heaven, soaring on wings stitched with different pieces; like a quilt of many colors. We're not heroes, just people who got caught in the crossfire of a world roaring with evil. “ - Alexia Hathorn

“ Often people in pain's mind is fogged up from the hurt, and so they don't really know what they're doing, ya know? “ - Hispania Hopva

“ Death I've learned, stalks the living. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ You can't really cure addiction. It walks beside he or she who used. Like a ghost that doesn't know when or how to move on. Is it really that much to ask for a halfway decent mind? One that doesn't taunt me with the idea of one more fucking high? But I suppose it was my choice to accept that little baggie at a party, right? It was my idea to get addicted, right? That's what they always tell ya. They call the junkies and ghosts monsters of society, but damn it man, we've been victims all along. “ - Hannisada Gravewit

“ I tried to hide my scars under thick coats and heavy blankets, but I bled and soaked through those. So now here I stand. Naked and awfully vulnerable to my demons and ghosts." - Hannisada Gravewit

“ His insanity ripped me from my backbone when I was only a child. I can still remember the violence shattered between his knuckles, the anger on his cigarette snarl. I still remember the screams. The God awful screams. I've been trying to dream for a long time man, but these nightmares always plague the boy who never lived. The boy who never had the chance, to live. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I just, I don't know how to escape these nightmares, man. Because that man's cruelty echoes in my mind; his smoke whispered anger booming through my thoughts. I was just a kid, man. But he stole that option from me when he put a bloodied finger to my lip and whispered that he was never here. Or when that old, boney skeleton beside him clasped two hands around my shoulder and whispered in a low, harsh voice that they were the boogeymen. And I believe that. Because the boogeyman is what goes bump in the night, right? And if there's anything that could be considered monster, I'd give the definition to them.” - Jonathan Enders

“ I take a fragile breath, hoping it doesn't rip through my throat like a bullet. “ - Jonathan Enders

“ I fought myself for such a long time only to realize the reflection had always been a friend. “ - Baila Von Cascia

“ Ya know how fate works, right? Ya meet one or two people and your whole world unravels. Sure. They're good people. You learn that they've become family somewhere along the road. But the villains you met alongside them just isn't worth it. “ - Joshua Houstella

“ I have fallen down this rabbit hole of oneself, gripping the roots of madness.” - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ I am nothing short of a sin. Nothing short of a monster masquerading as a woman. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ This heart of mine has whispered in sin and death ever since my mother told me all of her secrets, the closet looking like a welcoming home where Narnia and all the lions would protect me. But fantasy has never been as cruel, and unpredictable as reality. For reality hides until the right moment. Waiting. Forever waiting. And one day it snatches you so unaware and drags you through the nightmares. Oh you may kick. You may scream. But you'll most certainly succumb. “ - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ Forever my friend, can last only a second as the white rabbit once said. And forever, has lasted too long for my angel." - Ingretta Shazowlla

“ I speak my truths in barely audible whispers, screaming my lies at glass shattered levels. “ - Molly Chain

“ My lonely little mind is slathered in grey and blue paint, memories glossed over with thick layers of dark color. I've tried to peal away that wallpaper. But there's endless layers in this house, and I just don't know how much strength I've got left. “ - Molly Chain

“ There's blisters on my strength, and I fear I'm about to slip. “ - Molly Chain

“ All my life I've been afraid. Of myself. Of my father. Of the shadows that hid like monsters in my closet. And as I come to the realization that I will never escape my mind, I know that this is who I am. And she's such a broken girl. A wisped shadow of something great. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ I honestly believe God started typing me up, but he left to work on something greater and left me an unfinished piece of poetry, as if my prose bleed into the way fate unravels and twists. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ My peace of mind bleeds from the holes in my heart. “ - Clarice Sanchez

“ From what I know cruelty is the last guillotine, and we're just whittlin' down the rope, wonderin' when it'll snap and fall down on humanities head. “ - Leone Kassophic

“ God's voice is echoed through violence.” - Leone Kassophic

“ If my sins were tangible, would I bleed upon contact? “ - Darkin Vagabond

“ Truthfully I am not me. Just a graveyard symphony ringing like the funeral bell, revolver held in one hand, regrets held feebly in the other.” - Darkin Vagabond

“ I look to the star painted sky and wonder what prayers he's been answering, which whispers screamed the loudest. “ - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a lover at heart, wishing poetry and words spoken could heal the damage of war. And truthfully, that is the only way to stop a war. You speak to the enemy with a certain understanding. You try to discover who they are past the violence shattered between their bruised and bloodstained knuckles." - Zelene Clifforde

“ I am a gentle soul at heart, but alas, I sharpen my claws and go to war like a sinner who doesn't know when to quit, like an old, tattered wolf who wishes to quit all the bloodshed. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Often I wonder if this heart should just quit feeling. Quit letting the blood stain it like a memory that shalt not be forgotten. But I pick up my heart, and I shove it fragile and broken back inside my ribcage. For to become a beast, my friend, is the loneliest achievement of all. “ - Yngvir Alvisson

“ Way I see it. Hate is a revolver. These men and women fill their chamber with all the good pieces of themselves, firing off for a cause that never mattered, something that shouldn't even exist. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ In every sense of the word I'm the hero I needed when I was a kid. “ - Jaspello Crosshair

“ Take life one step at a time, second by second, minute by minute. Eventually the storm will pass you by. Sometimes it feels as though you're not gonna make it, but that's the kind of thing tragedy whispers, it tells you lies in an attempt to weaken your resolve. “ - Chris Shaw

“ Debby and I treat life like a workout. We breathe in. We breathe out. We face it head on and don't let the idea of pain stop us. “ - Chris Shaw

“ I was just a farm girl lookin' for a happily ever after, but that wicked and damned man stole the light from me layer by layer. It's as if he carved pieces 'a me off 'a my skin, whisper by whisper, sin by unnatural sin. “ - Ellen Duster

“ There's so many pieces 'a me missin' nowadays. “ - Ellen Duster

“ Redemption is a sunset, and it jus' don' ever rise." - Ellen Duster

“ I tried to build a paper boat and drift away from my prison cell, but the storm started howling in my mind and I fell off the side, clutching the paper rafts and oars, wondering why this is how life drowned me. Some men drown in whiskey. Others drown in sorrow. But all I ever drowned in was the tragedy of being someone I'm not. “ - Isaac Abernathy

“ If a lie fits the powerful man's agenda, he'll do anything he can to make that lie a truth, or at least make it appear as such. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I can still remember how that man told me that we'd save the world together, that as the bombs started going off, we'd be the men history looked at and said, "Well done, heroes, you did it." But as I watched the world fall asunder, my heroes heart fading into a broken one, I knew that all the man did was lie to my good nature, and it was on that day, unaware, I bit into the sacrilege of false revolution. “ - Jacob Abernathy

“ I was just a girl without shadows in her mind until I stumbled into a rabbit hole of Godhood and the way blood spills on the arena floor. And as I fell, little pieces of me being carved off by the blade of a malicious God, I knew that I must have more of this undying pleasure. “ - Sonata Vickowinter

“ I'm just a broken bottle angel who forgot his wings on the downward descent.” - Ash Caesar

“ Often I say I'm better off dead, because this man I am is hardly worth a damn, let alone two cents and a nickel, so I glug down another bottle of whiskey and let my little sister down one more fucking time. “ - Ash Caesar

“ I always say I'll change, but everyone else is running a marathon, and here I am, standing stagnant at the starting line. I dare not cross that line in the sand. Because I'm scared of the regret, the shadows, the way my mother's words echo in the ones I scream. “ - Ash Caesar

“ Truth is, I can still remember the way my mother's open palm felt against my cheek, or how her wine glass felt shattered against my noggin. But those glass pieces of her addiction bleed into me. “ - Ash Caesar

“ All I see in the mirror is a man who fell so cruelly away from himself, and as my sister reached for my hand, I let it slip. And all she could do was watch as this regretful Icarus laughed in the flames." - Ash Caesar

“ I have found, that I am the single black rose in the garden, sitting idle like a warning of what will come if you step towards this black petaled beast, this decaying flower of cruelty. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I am a tired beast. “ - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I was once in an empty room. Love knocked, oh how she knocked gently, so softly. As if it were a song that whispered into my ear. But hate drove her away. He knocked, he knocked, oh how rage filled his fist boomed against the door. With tears rolling down my cheeks I let him in. He stole the blankets from off the bed and wrapped them around my throat, choking me with the violence inside of my heart. And ever so cruelly, I became a black, withered, and deadly rose." - Madam Stephanie Rose

“ I sink ever familiar into this garden of decay, praying that someone will save me from the blood on my hands I speak of like darkened poetry. But death, was never a story. Only a harsh sin ridden reality I've given to so many others. How strange is it, that death is the end of reality, but also one in of itself? “ - Mike Duster

“ I'm a man of many sins. “ - Mike Duster

“ I slowly flay myself from my own skin, screaming, forever screaming. I carve another layer of me from off my skin. I subject myself to the meat hook and try so desperately to bleed all the darkness from the crevices of me, but alas, to bleed myself from the darkness would be to bleed all of me away. For all that runs through me is dark, twisted and unfamiliar. “ - Mike Duster

“ The truth, does not whisper, my friend. It screams.” - Ava Callenwillow

“ Secrets stick to me, and more often than not they take over my identity, pulling me into the depths of another shadow, another mystery with my name written all over it. I've been running from fate for a long time, finding ways to avoid this noose around my neck for years, but one day the stable ground beneath me will collapse. And I'll be nothing but history. “ - Ava Callenwillow

“ Wherever I go, death tends to follow like a loyal wolf whom sits at my bedside, howling to the blood red moon that is my wicked and decaying heart. “ - Tezilda Vaxweed

#writer #author #characterwriting #dialogue #characterdevelopment

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danjo-ao3 · 3 years

Text

When Ashes Fall p.2

Pairing: Reaper/female Reader

Summary: You are a combat medic working for Overwatch, when a mission goes south and you cross paths with Talon mercenary Reaper. But will he kill you on the spot or is there more to this encounter?

Rating: 18+

Tags/Warnings: rape/non-con, violence, blood, emotional manipulation, blackmail, kidnapping

Word count: 52,215 (in 5 parts)

A/N: the warnings are clear on this one. Yes, there is going to be rape/non-con, and it’s going to get explicit. I strongly advise anyone who is not into that kind of story to turn back around, because this is going to get pretty heavy and will finally be the non-con story with Reaper that I had always wanted to write.

Part 2 / 5 ( part 1, part 3, part 4, part 5)

***

“Ay, Akande. What is it now?” A woman of a rather small stature entered the room, her right hand busily tapping at purple holograms before her, while she popped her bubblegum noisily. Everything about her was purple, in fact. Her clothes, the tips of her dark hair, as well as her makeup. When she finally noticed you, a mixture between surprise and amusement crossed her face. “Hola, chica,” She greeted you, her demeanor cheeky and aloof as she waved her long nailed hand at you. “This your newest conquest?” The sarcasm rang heavy in her tone of voice as she addressed Ogundimu again and tsked, then proceeded to chew the gum obnoxiously loud. “Fresh out the asylum now, is it?” And she chuckled to herself at her remark.

You could only sit and stare at her, all too aware of how you very much looked like she described you. Not that it mattered anyway, the only thing not sitting right with you was how she assumed you somehow were this man’s mistress.

Ogundimu’s face betrayed nothing of what he might have thought about her careless comment.

“Sombra,” He said curtly, making it clear that he wasn’t in the mood for her shenanigans. “This is our newest agent,” His hand gestured toward you and Sombra’s bubblegum popped again as she looked at you once more, the surprise outshining the amusement on her face.

But after another good look she grinned. “Ah, but you’re messing with me,” She said with a dismissive handshake, wiping the hologram before her out of existence.

Ogundimu smiled to himself. “You will look after her, show her around. Basically, you’ll be her shadow for now.”

Sombra’s eyes narrowed, they flicked over to you, then back to Ogundimu.

“Is this for the Volskaya mission?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh, fine. But then we’re even, you hear me?” She sounded annoyed, but already went back to the door she had entered through, then she looked over her shoulder at you. “You coming or what, chica?”

With one last look at Ogundimu, you rose from the chair and walked over to the woman, hyper aware of both of their eyes on you.

“First visit will be a closet. What is that?” She opened the door while pointing at your hospital garb.

“They’re—”

“Nevermind. We will get some decent clothes for you. Can’t be seen with you running around like that.” With that she once again projected a holographic display in front of her, while she navigated through various interfaces with her hand. You bristled faintly at her jab, it wasn’t like it was your choice of clothing either. But you got the impression that this Sombra woman wasn’t particularly interested in what you had to say anyway, so you just kept your mouth shut and tagged along.

You didn’t walk far, only a few corridors further and one staircase down and your surroundings resembled more of a hotel than a terrorist base of operations. The whole time Sombra managed to use her holographic projection, she didn’t even have to look away once, not even when you both descended the stairs.

The furnishings down here were no less impressive than they had been upstairs though, the floor was carpeted, the walls a light cream and the doors looked like solid wood.

“Come along now, your room should be right—” She walked two more steps and stopped in front of a door with a sign saying “3E”. “—here.”

You just stood there, unsure of what you were supposed to do now. After a few seconds, Sombra looked away from her hologram and frowned at you impatiently.

“Open it?”

Then you hurried forward to turn the handle, but the door didn’t open, it was locked.

Next to you, Sombra sighed dramatically. “Mierda…” She said and began to fiddle with the interface of her holographic projection again, this time she went even quicker than before. “Stupid Akande didn’t even give me a damn key,” She mumbled to herself, but then you could hear the distinct clicking of a lock, then Sombra swiped her interface away again and brushed a strand of her hair behind one ear. “Go on, it’s open now.”

This time the door yielded inwards and you were greeted by a small sparsely furnished room with a bed and a chair in one corner and a door in the other.

You stood in the room as Sombra brushed past you, on her way to the built in wall closet. She stopped in front of it, addressing you again. “Get dressed and we can continue our grand tour,” She said with mock enthusiasm, like a tour guide with too many years on their back.

The closet held a surprisingly large amount of varying clothes in it, the only thing they all had in common was the Talon logo embroidered on them. You couldn’t help but frown at that, you were still pissed that you were basically Talon’s bitch now.

“How come you don’t have the Talon logo on your outfit?” You asked Sombra after removing a pair of pants and a hoodie from the closet, ready to change into comfortable, concealing clothes.

Sombra barked a laugh. “Oh, chica. I may be working for Talon, but I’m not one of Akande’s and Max’s little minions.” She scowled, then regarded her manicured nails. “I am more of a...freelancer.” Then she winked at you, before her eyes fell onto the clothes in your hand, which immediately made her scowl again. “So that is your choice?” One eyebrow rose, but then she apparently remembered that she didn’t actually care about you and waved any comeback of yours off. “Alright, you change and I’ll be waiting for you outside.” Then she went to the door, but before she left, she spoke up again “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Finally left alone again, you took a deep breath to center yourself. You undressed slowly, as if in a trance. Really, you couldn’t think about all this right now, it was too much, too fast. And you were sure you would break down on the floor into a heap of sobs and cries about how life specifically hated you. So instead, you stripped the hospital gown off of you, slipped on underwear and pants and finally the hoodie.

“That’s better,” You said to yourself, then looked around you again. The door on the other side of the room led into a small bathroom, with fluffy towels next to a shower and fragrant soap lying on the sink. Well, Overwatch had about the same amount of luxury, but there you were allowed to leave…

Pulling yourself together again, you slammed the bathroom door shut and went to join Sombra outside of your new room.

“What’s been taking you so long?” She sounded annoyed from where she stood against the opposite wall, not even looking at you as she worked on her holo interface.

You only rolled your eyes at her for being so damn impatient. Already her demeanor was getting on your nerves, how you were supposed to get along with her at all was a mystery to you. But then again, who cared about your comfort here anyway? You were nothing but a prisoner, only that the metaphorical bars were shaped like Caleb.

***

Your grand tour, it turned out, was a trip to the gym, the practice range, and lastly the café (which kind of surprised you—which evil organization had a freaking café?). The feeling that you were actually in a grand hotel was starting to manifest.

Sombra granted you access to all these places with her weird interface thingy.

“If you want to go somewhere else, I will escort you and if you behave, maybe I’ll give you clearance for those as well,” She had said.

But now you both sat in the café on a table close to a window, your gaze flitted over that unfamiliar cityscape.

“Where are we anyway,” you asked and Sombra looked up from sipping her coffee.

“Talon headquarters.”

Headquarters? Well, that explained the whole very important and grand vibe of the place. You were about to mention that that hadn’t been your actual question, but somehow you knew you weren’t going to get a straightforward answer after all.

You sighed and nibbled on your cucumber sandwich. Sombra hadn’t even asked what you wanted to eat and had ordered for the both of you with a few gestures onto her holographic interface.

“Oh, our time’s up,” Sombra looked at you with those glittering eyes, then took one bite out of her own sandwich. “Akande wants you to go to the doc next,” She informed you and was already on her way out of her seat without even sparing another glance at you. “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

And with that she left the café, leaving you behind with a half eaten sandwich lying on your plate. You regarded it thoughtfully, the meager appetite you’d had long gone. So you pushed the plate away from you and finished your coffee in silence.

What now? You let your heavy head fall into your hand and stared wistfully at the sky outside, it was cloudy but still bright, a really nice day actually. And you were trapped here.

After you downed the last sip of your coffee, you rose to get to Dr. O’Deorain’s lab once more, even though you felt apprehension at the very thought of going back there.

As you left the café, you tried to backtrack the way you had come from, unsure of where the lab was situated. You groaned when you realized you were lost, you absolutely didn’t recognize your surroundings. You took the nearest elevator and commanded it to take you to the lower levels of the building, which it did. At least you were now one step closer to your destination.

The doors opened to a darkened hallway not unlike the one that had led to the lab and you couldn’t help but feel a little proud of your sense of direction. Cautiously, you moved along the halls and—lo and behold—there were the doors to the laboratory. All the joy you had felt at finding the way on your own vanished with a pang of anxiety in your gut. The doctor hadn’t seemed like a very pleasant person to you, having to work for her didn’t sound appealing at all. But you didn’t have a choice either way, so you went forward to find a way inside.

There was a card reader next to the doors with blinking LEDs and a holographic display asking for authorization.

Of course you didn’t have anything on you to gain access; bloody typical. You realized you’d have to do this the old fashioned way and simply knocked with a slightly shaking hand.

After a few seconds, the door opened and another unfamiliar face greeted you as it peered through the crack. It was a young woman, maybe a little older than you, with spectacles and a messy brown bun on her head.

“Yes?” She asked you with an accusatory glare.

“Um, I’m supposed to meet Dr. O’Deorain,” You explained and immediately, the girl’s face lit up.

“Oh, you must be the new intern!” She sounded excited and opened the doors wide to let you in. Well, this was the nicest welcome you had received so far and the knowledge of having someone benign at your side was at least a little comforting.

You stepped into the lab with trepidation, it looked the same as when you had left it in a hurry. The only exception was that the examination table was once again occupied. The black mass of a person created a stark contrast to the white surroundings and it made them stick out like a sore thumb. You instantly knew who it was, too.

It was the man, slash demon, who had kidnapped you after the explosion. Unbidden, your breath hitched and you stopped in your tracks, eyes wide as you took in the entirety of his massive form currently lying on that table. There were several machines attached to him in various places, displaying his vitals. Flashbacks of a cold shotgun barrel pressed against your forehead made you shiver.

So far you hadn’t been able to find an explanation for this hallucination you’d had, even though Ogundimu had not been subtle with his remarks about it. But now, fully awake and aware, you couldn’t deny that what had happened to you was as real as the man currently lying in front of you. Not a hallucination then.

Holy shit.

“Is everything alright?” It sounded from your right, and only now did you remember that you weren’t alone in the lab. Turning your suddenly stiff body away from the man, you again addressed the nice woman who had let you in.

“Yeah,” You answered as your eyes darted back to the table once more. In the same breath and a slightly higher pitched voice you asked, “Who’s that?”

“Oh, you’re really new, aren’t you?” She smiled reassuringly, set down a holopad she had been working on and motioned for you to sit next to her on a stool facing a long table currently holding a few test tubes. “First things first, I am Casey,” She held out her hand to you, which you immediately shook, and then you gave her your name as well.

“This there on the table is a man who calls himself Reaper, he’s in here quite often. I don’t know his real name, but Dr. O’Deorain is working with him,” Casey began, then she leaned a little closer to you and went on a little quieter. “Personally, I think she’s using him for an experiment of hers, though. Don’t know if he’s aware of it, but he certainly doesn’t seem to mind.”

You squinted at Casey, then the man.

“—Reaper? He...calls himself that?”

Casey nodded with a shrug and a half smile. Like it wasn’t concerning at all that somebody named themselves after death’s persona. The fine hairs on the back of your neck rose at the memory of the man removing his mask to reveal inky nothingness and two red orbs that had stared into your soul. Already you were making a mental note to request not having to work in the lab when he was present.

“Don’t you find him creepy?” The incredulousness in your voice was hard to suppress.

“Of course,” Casey pushed her glasses back onto her nose. “But I usually don’t have to deal with him, he’s Dr. O’Deorain’s project and she doesn’t like lab assistants messing up her work.” You could see a small frown beginning to form on her forehead as she finished her sentence. She sounded resentful.

“So what do you do around here?” You changed the subject and looked around for emphasis.

Already, she was perking up again. “Oh, I assist the doc with her work and do tests while she is doing her research and experiments.”

As you watched her you could clearly see that she was enthusiastic about her work. A question popped into your head.

“Can I...can I ask you something personal?”

“What is it?”

“Why are you here?”

Casey blinked at you once, then she smiled again. “I want to become a geneticist, and working under Dr. O’Deorain sounded like an opportunity of a lifetime.”

“But, you are also working for Talon.” Why would a sweet girl like her work here? It didn’t seem like she was being forced to be here either. That, or she was a great actor.

Casey deflated a little, the line of her mouth went grim. “Trust me, I know. And I don’t particularly like the fact that I am. But, like I said this was an opportunity I couldn’t have let fly by me.” She even looked a tad guilty.

A long silence followed. The fact that she didn’t ask why you were here spoke volumes. She definitely knew about you, no need to ask.

That was depressing.

Your gaze had landed on the man again, he was lying there like a storm cloud would hang above you forebodingly, a menacing presence that could strike any second.

“Is he unconscious?” You asked Casey who had started working on her holopad again.

“Yeah, he is in a regeneration phase.” She answered while tapping holographic buttons. “Has been blown up pretty badly in the last mission.”

“Blown up?”

“Yes, you should have seen him when he came in. He was barely in human shape at all.”

You gulped. What the hell was she talking about? But before you could ask her, Dr. O’Deorain entered the lab.

“There you are,” She said to you in lieu of a greeting, and held out her hand to Casey who hurried to pass her the holopad she had been working on. “I need you to do something for me.”

“Yes, doctor,” Casey responded immediately and as you looked at her you could see the admiration in her eyes.

The doctor didn’t wait for your reply and went on to explain. “Subject R-24 has almost completed regeneration, he only needs his weekly dosage of serum 3442.” She sighed. “But I have to leave because some cretin thought it would be a good idea to ship my chemicals with highly explosive substances.”

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she finally addressed you. “You two will have to administer the serum. One will inject, the other has to monitor the vitals.” That was all you were told before she left the lab again.

Casey jumped from her stool and went to get the serum while you rose as well and awkwardly walked over to the displays on a big screen. Ok, you could do this, just checking and alarming Casey if something was wrong. There was the line indicating his heart beat, but something about it was off. The peaks weren’t high enough to be considered healthy, it was as if he took his very last breaths. With concern you turned to Casey, who was drawing the serum into a syringe.

“What’s with this heartbeat?” You asked and while Casey removed any air bubbles from the syringe, she answered you.

“Well, that happens when you’re kind of a wraith.”

A what?

You just stared at her, then at patient R-24, or rather Reaper, and decided that you were definitely staying as far away from him as possible. What was Dr. O’Deorain doing here?

After disinfecting the spot she was going to use for injection, Casey inserted the needle in between the pieces of the man’s bulky armor, into the greyish dark skin of his left arm. It was surreal to watch how he lay there on the examination table in full gear, even his white skeletal mask was in place and his head covered by his black hood. Why had he chosen this specific getup? To be intimidating, probably.

When Casey was finished with the injection, she put away the syringe and removed the medical gloves she had been wearing. With a satisfied smile she turned to you, took a last look at the vitals display and moved back to her holopad. “I’ll just finish these reports and then we can wrap it up.”

“Okay,” You answered from where you were still standing, between the screen and the man on the table. While you didn’t want to look at him for longer than you had to, there was a strange fascination about him. Now that you were fully aware of your surroundings and your brain wasn’t lacking oxygen, you could finally take an actual look. You’d never seen someone like that before, and you were hesitant to believe what you’d been told. A wraith...what the hell was that even supposed to mean? Aside from the weird armor and extremely unhealthy looking skin on his arms, you thought he looked like a regular man. If said man was a shotgun wielding maniac.

Your gaze wandered over his form, metal and leather created a thick second skin that clung to his muscular physique. The metal claws at the end of his fingers looked pointy and dangerous and you were certain he could disembowel a person with them if he so desired.

As if on their own accord, your slightly shaking fingers reached out and touched the cold metal tentatively. You brushed them upwards over the back of his gloved hand and between two protruding spikes until you reached the gap between gauntlet and shoulder armor, your fingers hovered above his bare skin. Then you pressed the pad of your index and middle finger to it, sending out just a little bit of healing in morbid curiosity. His skin was not exactly warm, but not too cold either. It was really weird and you immediately wanted to remove your hand again as his skin began to warm from your touch.

Just then his body tensed, as if he’d been electrocuted, and the hand that had previously been lying motionless shot up to grab your wrist. Gasping in panic, you tried to wrench your arm free, but his claws were already digging into your flesh painfully.

“Casey!” You called out to the other lab assistant, who turned around to you with a look of shock.

“Hold on,” She said as she rushed over to you and tried to pry off the man’s claws from your arm. Not even with her help you were able to remove them, and you felt the panic inside you rising. It hurt like hell and you were sure he was going to draw blood any second.

But suddenly his grip did loosen and his hand fell off back to his side as if nothing had happened, leaving you to stumble backwards with the force of your pulling. You hit the wall with your back, still staring at the man on the table, who was once again motionless. Heart racing from your recent shock, you looked around to see Casey cautiously advancing towards you with her hands reaching out in a soothing motion.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she finally reached you.

With a last long breath, you finally relaxed enough to reply.

“Yeah...I think.”

Casey stopped in her tracks, a frown on her face, then she turned around to regard the man again. “That’s really weird. This never happened before,” She explained, her finger tapping against her chin in thought. “Did you do something?”

Somehow, you felt embarrassed to confess that you’d touched him, your gaze fell to your wrist which was showing angry red spots where it had been nearly crushed, indentations showed where his claws had been.

“Uh, I kinda...touched him.”

“Oh.” The way she said it sounded like this was explanation enough for her. “Yeah, don’t do that. We’re not supposed to anyway.”

“Got it,” You said meekly, although you vowed to never be in the same room as him again in the first place. Any questions you had about this weird rule were interrupted by a loud noise coming from one of the monitoring devices. Casey went over and tapped the touch panel beside it, then addressed you once more with a smile.

“Alright, we’re done here for today,” She announced cheerfully and shut off a few machines with practiced ease.

“So, we’re just leaving him here?” You asked uncertainly, even though you hated how interested you sounded in that weird masked man.

“Yes, he will rest here for a few more hours,” She said offhandedly and already began turning off the lights. Hurriedly, you walked towards the exit, because you really weren’t keen on staying in this room with him while it was darkened as well. Hell no.

You waited for Casey outside the double doors of the lab, feeling a little shaky from that whole ordeal just now and only wished to go to bed. She joined you quickly, a key card around her neck. She smiled again when she saw you, then proceeded to close the doors behind her. You couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t lock them.

“Aren’t you going to lock the lab up?”

“And trap Reaper inside?” She laughed. “I usually do, but not when he’s still in. I did it once and he wasn’t exactly happy about it.”

The way her face scrunched up spoke volumes.

“What happened?”

“Well, let’s just say Dr. O’Deorain was even more pissed at me than he was. He simply broke the door down you see.” She shook her head. “What a mess.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “That sounds...terrifying, to be honest.”

“Doesn’t it?” But her laugh made her statement sound pretty ominous, and you started to wonder if Casey was alright. She almost seemed too cheerful.

The first few days at Talon HQ went by for you in kind of a haze. You got up at six in the morning to get ready for your work in the lab. Thankfully, Reaper wasn’t present at all during that time, and you were a little relieved.

Dr. O’Deorain apparently wasn’t much of a talker, the most she spoke to you were instructions or orders for your daily tasks. Today, though, she approached you with a gleam in her eye. You got a bad feeling immediately.

“Come over to the examination table, please,” She addressed you as she turned away, then you saw Casey looking at you with a mix between concern, intrigue, and just a little bit of envy.

As you neared the shiny stainless steel table, you saw something lying on it. It was a glove; dark purple with wires running over its surface from the back to the tips. You knew right away that this was a new amplifying glove for your healing abilities. Curiously, you reached for it, then hesitated. Before you touched it, you made sure it was okay for you to do so. With a small nod, Dr. O’Deorain confirmed it for you and you picked it up.

The glove was obviously still a prototype, the material wasn’t properly sewn shut and most of the wires weren’t even insulated. So you put it on very carefully. It fit you snugly. You made a fist to test the stretch of it and it felt like a second skin, expanding and retracting in time with your movements.

You studied it some more before the doctor gave you a small sharp smile. “Go ahead. Try it.”

Tentatively, you rubbed the tips of your fingers together, a warm yellow light began to glow where they touched. Then you extended your arm away from you, concentrated and consciously began collecting your healing in the palm of your hand. The small glow at your fingertips began to expand and started sending light away from you in a concentrated, but gentle spray. Before it could touch the ground though, it dissolved into nothingness.

After a few seconds, you started to feel your arm going numb, it grew heavy and you had to lower it back to your side, clutching it with your left hand to your chest.

That was weird. You never had experienced pain or discomfort before when you had used your healing ability. But this glove, it seemed to work differently than the one you had been given by Dr. Ziegler.

Dr. O’Deorain was at your side in a heartbeat, unwound your limbs and removed the glove from your hand with a satisfied expression on her face.

You winced.

“What was that?” You asked as you tried to rub some life back into your arm.

The doctor chuckled quietly to herself as she laid the glove down on her work table, then she turned back to you.

“This is my invention,” She began. “It is derived of the nanite technology your former mentor and I had been working on.” She reached over the desk to grab a small device, which she connected to one of the open wires. “Only that it is ten times more powerful than what she has come up with.”

You had a feeling that the smug smile she flashed at you was definitely meant for Dr. Ziegler.

Great, apparently you were one of her new experiments, and her goal was to one up her old colleague.

“It is still in its test phase, but it should be ready for the upcoming mission,” The doctor informed you.

“Mission?”

“Yes, the council wants you on the next one, and I have been working day and night on this amplifier.”

Your heart sank at these news. So you were supposed to actively accompany these terrorists on their terrorist attacks, too? It was bad enough that you had to help them in the science department, but you never agreed to be out in the field as well.

Of course, what you wanted or didn’t agree to didn’t matter in the slightest and you doubted the doc even cared, so you chose to keep your mouth shut about it.

“What kind of mission is this going to be?” You asked, but the doctor simply shrugged.

“I didn’t ask,” Was all she said, apparently already moving on to much more important things. You wondered if the doctor tried to stay as ignorant as possible to Talon’s doings because, maybe she had something like a conscience, or if she was simply too focused on her research to trouble herself with anything else.

Experimenting on people definitely sounded more like option two to you, though.

When you didn’t move away from behind her, she turned around with an irritated frown. With a sigh, she put down the device.

“All I do know is that I have two more days to finish this,” She said and pointed to the project behind her on the desk with a tilt of her head. “And I need all the time I have for it to be ready by then. So,” She narrowed her eyes. “Let me work, unless you want to run around and hug everyone you’re supposed to heal.” With that she turned around once more, the conversation over.

That sounded reasonable.

You left her alone for the remainder of the two days you were working in the lab, instead talking and socializing with Casey who, you learned, would not be a part of the mission you’d been assigned to.

That didn’t surprise you though, Casey hadn’t struck you as the kind of person who walks around shooting people.

But neither were you. Well, of course you’d had gun training, but so far you’d never had to actually shoot somebody. And you’d prefer if it stayed that way, especially now that you were on the wrong team, too. Ugh, what a mess.

***

It was the day of the mission and you were seated in the briefing room. A dark place, the carpet, seats and table, even the walls were a dull grey, only accentuated by metallic details here and there gleaming in the dull indirect lighting. The only bright spot was the large Talon logo on the opposite wall, mocking you obnoxiously in its bright red colours.

There were people sitting around you, none of whom you recognized, and they were quietly listening to Ogundimu, who stood at the head of the long oval table, explaining your course of action.

Apparently, there were going to be four small teams of two working together at different places located around a big hotel where the person you were supposed to take out was currently residing at.

Assassination...well, this went off to a good start. You sighed inwardly, sinking into your seat a little more, not exactly trying to hide, but not wanting to be there either.

The way Ogundimu spoke really made him sound convinced of his own plan, you could see now how he had been able to rise in Talon’s ranks up so quickly. He was leader material with his educated choice of words, the way he spoke and carried himself. It instilled awe and inspired confidence, not in you of course. But as you looked around you saw some of the others nod and even grin amongst themselves. They were sure his plan wouldn’t fail.

Everybody seemed to know about the person you were going to kill, there were no details given about him other than his name. This killing seemed to have been a long time coming. You weren’t going to raise your hand and ask about him though, nope.

What’s the saying again? Ignorance is bliss.

Ogundimu was coming to an end, some people around you sat up straighter, suddenly antsy with anticipation. They were looking forward to this, you realized with poorly concealed disgust, as you side eyed them.

“Ah,” Ogundimu called out your name. “Are you ready for your first mission?” He gave you a lazy smile and crossed his arms in front of his massive chest.

Everybody turned to look at you and you could feel your cheeks burn with self-consciousness. That was Ogundimu’s intention, no doubt.

“Yes,” You answered, after clearing your throat tentatively.

“Good,” He kept smiling, then addressed the others in the room again. “You will all work in the usual teams. We’re leaving in ten minutes. Dismissed.”

Suddenly everyone got up and left, already partnering up, leaving you to hurry up and follow them. Whom were you supposed to team up with? You had counted nine people, excluding Ogundimu who would be working alone. And that left you short one person to make a team.

As you exited the room and stood forlorn in the hallway, a heavy hand fell onto your shoulder. You spun around in surprise and found Ogundimu towering above you.

“I have a special teammate for you,” He said ominously and started leading you towards the meeting point, his hand falling away after a few meters.

A question burned on your mind, but you were hesitant to ask.

“How is Caleb?” You just had to know.

Ogundimu kept walking stoically, then shifted his gaze towards you.

“Do your job and he’ll be just fine,” He said quietly, a hint of threat behind his words though, and you nodded minutely in understanding.

The two of you neared your destination, an underground hangar with numerous vehicles and aircrafts suddenly opened up before you. The teams were already paired up and ready to leave, while you were still in the dark about your partner. The way Ogundimu had made it sound wasn’t very reassuring either. Who was this special teammate; Sombra? You hadn’t seen her in a few days, not after you spent the majority of the day at the lab. Apparently, she was satisfied with her observation of you. That, or she was finally bored enough to simply ignore you again.

The man gave you a gentle push when you had stopped to take in the impressive surroundings, and he was now walking behind you towards a small helicopter. Its pilot was already inside, their features hidden from view by a helmet and visor, but you were certain that this wasn’t going to be that mystery teammate. Just as you walked past the cockpit on the outside, your head coming around to look in front of you, you saw him.

It was Reaper. He stood in the shadow of the helicopter, dark robes and white skeletal mask in their usual place.

You made a full stop and, with your heart in your throat, took a step back, bumping into Ogundimu behind you.

No, no, no, no, no, no!

He was going to be your partner? Shit. You should have known, Ogundimu was way too amused by your whole dealings with the black robed man to not do this to you.

“Your new partner,” the man behind you said, to Reaper or you, you weren’t too sure. But his smile was evident in his voice. You moved away from Ogundimu, trying in vain not to look as spooked as you felt. Reaper crossed his arms in front of him, regarding you through the mask on his face.

“You can’t be serious,” Reaper answered in his gravelly voice, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, the darkness creating dramatic shadows on his mask.

“You have a flight to catch,” Ogundimu ignored him, then he produced your new amplifying glove from his pocket and tossed it to you, fully expecting you to catch it. Thankfully, you managed to grab it before it fell to the ground, regarding it for a second. It looked way better now than it did two days ago for sure, the stitching was impeccable, all the wires were secured inside the stretchy, dark purple material but still visible. You put it on your right hand, again testing its flexibility.

“I work alone,” Reaper tried again to catch the other man’s attention. Ogundimu leveled him with a stare.

“You’re becoming more reckless.” The other said in a low voice, only meant for Reaper. “Last time it cost us the mission,” He went on after taking a step forward. “I cannot take that risk this time, Gabriel.”

Gabriel, huh? Not as menacing as Reaper, that was for sure.

They were doing some kind of face off, both staring each other down and you stood there forgotten. You hated awkward situations like these, especially if it involved you.

Suddenly Ogundimu leaned away again, his stance became more casual and a small smile played on his lips.

“I’m surprised. It was you who brought her here, why don’t you want to take her with you now?”

At that, Reaper’s head turned around to you like that of an owl, and your heart stuttered for a second there. Was he deliberately trying to be scary?

“So you want your new healer to die?” Reaper said to the other man, while still facing you. “Something will happen, and I will simply keep on living while she will be blown to pieces,” He went on, now fully addressing Ogundimu again.

Cold shivers ran down your spine, his words sounded like a dark prophecy. All this seemed to be a terrible idea and you were keen on joining Reaper’s side on this matter. They should leave you behind to keep on working in the lab.

But Ogundimu didn’t seem convinced of Reaper’s doom-mongering, his smile didn’t falter.

“Well, she already encountered death once,” He looked over to you. “And emerged very much alive. I’d also advise you to not let it happen again.”

“I’m not playing babysitter.” Reaper ground out in a low growl, it was an unnatural sound you never wanted to hear again. You also hated how those two simply talked as if you weren’t there, like you were some kind of burden, or the annoying little cousin.

You didn’t want to be here either, but nobody asked you now, did they?

“I can take care of myself,” You just had to chime in, you were slowly getting annoyed with those two. You were an agent of Overwatch, for fuck’s sake. You could handle any mission. Reaper let his arms fall back to his side, tilted up his head to look down at you from even farther above. Then he made a non-committal sound and whirled away to enter the helicopter. You swore you could see dark mist following in his wake, but as you were distracted by it, Ogundimu’s heavy hand landed on your shoulder once more. Everytime it felt like a ton of bricks came down on you, making your knees buckle with the force of it.

“Do good work,” He reminded you again quietly, “And your friend will be fine.”

You stared at him while you were dying on the inside. Great, he just had to add insult to injury with mentioning Caleb again, reminding you that you had to do whatever you were told.

“Sure,” Was all you said, then brushed off his hand and followed Reaper inside the helicopter. The pilot had already started the engine and it was growing louder by the second.

The helicopter was moderately sized for a small team such as yours. Two people fit comfortably in the back with a little bit of space between, thankfully. You tried to stay as far on your side as possible, leaning heavily against the door. From here you could see people scurrying away hunched over from the fast turning rotor blades. All except Ogundimu, who was walking at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets, back straight and looking right at you.

Was everyone in Talon so...intense?

With a small sigh, you shifted your gaze away from the man and instead focused on how the helicopter began flying upwards through a gigantic chute and into the beautiful late afternoon sky. Only a few clouds were hanging on the bright blue horizon and you had to shield your eyes from the sun.

Suddenly something landed in your lap. Startled, you looked down and found a helmet lying there. The pilot had thrown it at you when he’d noticed your presence, he gave you a thumbs-up, and somehow this small gesture made you feel a little better.

But as you put on the helmet you already felt foolish again, because this man was working for Talon as well. He was one of the bad guys.

Just like you were now.

Ugh. You could feel a headache forming behind your eyes.

It was almost dark by the time you arrived at your destination. It was a recently built apartment tower just across from the hotel. It was so recent in fact, that nobody had moved in yet. But furniture had been set up in various places, you noticed as you and Reaper entered one of the apartments with huge floor length windows. They let in the moonlight that was shining brightly tonight, which was a blessing really because you couldn’t turn on the lights without giving away your presence.

This position allowed you to observe without being seen in turn. Really, you were just backup in case things went south.

Although you hated Talon and definitely didn’t want them to succeed, you also wondered what would happen to you or Caleb should the mission fail.

Reaper hadn’t spoken to you at all since you had taken off in the helicopter, and you were glad you didn’t have to talk to him. Now you were certain that the black mist you had seen before definitely hadn’t been your imagination. Whenever he was moving about, the sheer black mass rose up from the soles of his booted feet and outside of his mask.

Well, that happens when you’re kind of a wraith, Casey’s words rang through your head and you unconsciously hugged yourself. The apartment was chilly, with no one living here the heating wasn’t on either. Somewhere in the small backpack you had brought was a fleece jacket you now took out and put on. It didn’t help all that much, though but it would do for now.

Reaper was standing off to the side, looking out the window and absentmindedly checking one of his shotguns.

There were so many questions when it came to him, you realized. He was a big puzzle you kind of wanted to understand, but also wanted to stay as far away from as possible. Some of the things Ogundimu had said to you were flitting through your mind. Like how he was able to tell you about how Overwatch was a terrorist organization as well.

You scoffed at the thought, really that was just ridiculous.

At your small sound of incredulousness, Reaper turned around and laid down his shotgun on an unfinished kitchen counter nearby.

“Just to make this clear,” He began, “Should something come up I’m going alone. Got it?”

You were about to protest, but thought better of it. If he wanted to do it on his own so badly, why would you fight him on this? You could tell Ogundimu how he didn’t let you come with him and really, it wasn’t like you could force him to take you along.

“Fine,” You said nonchalantly, then moved over to sit down on a couch standing in the middle of the room. At least you were going to be comfortable while you had to wait for everything to pass.

And boy, was it boring.

While you were sitting there, already getting tired from the boredom and only the moon for lighting, Reaper was still in his spot by the window, an ever present shadow giving you occasional sparks of anxiety. It was best to ignore him, you thought, and instead looked around some more to judge these people’s taste in home decor.

Everything was so...bland. The furniture, the walls and carpets, even the pictures on the walls screamed pretentious and generic at the same time. Maybe these apartments were going to be rented for short periods of time instead of people buying them.

You were interrupted in your musings by a small beeping sound.

“Yes,” Reaper answered a comm device in his ear, then said “Acknowledged.” And picked up his shotguns to walk towards the door.

“Should I—,” You began but were stopped by Reaper whirling around and just staring at you blankly. Alright, you got it: stay here. You sat back and watched him leave the apartment.

What an egomaniac, you thought and snuggled into your fleece jacket to keep warm. The quiet was nice, you found, and soon enough you felt your eyes begin to drift shut.

***

Bang!

Your eyes snapped open, the serenity of the empty apartment greeted you but it was disrupted by the loud sound that had just woken you up. Across from you, there was the figure of a man inside a big black swirling mist curling in on itself and it was moving towards you.

With a shriek and your heart in your throat, you jumped up from the couch, only to knock over the coffee table next to it. You ended up on your ass on the floor and finally, your sluggish brain was able to catch up.

Before your eyes, the deathly white mask of Reaper was staring at you, and you consciously tried to calm down. Although that was quite the task, seeing how disfigured he looked. Besides his mask, nothing was in its original shape. His robes were torn, the left side of his torso didn’t seem to be able to decide on whether it was corporeal or not, the black mist coalescing into a part of a lung or skin tissue, then blowing apart violently again.

Horrified, you watched him approach you, a low pained groan erupted from him and somehow sounding from all around you as well.

He came ever closer, and although you knew he hadn’t come to kill you, you couldn’t shake the feeling of trepidation. It was almost funny how you could have ever mistaken him for an angel.

He hadn’t moved towards you though, but rather the couch, and now sank into it. With a small breath of relief, you struggled back up again and over to your backpack to retrieve the amplifying glove.

“Leave it,” He ground out, his voice wavering as he leaned his head onto the back of the couch.

With a frown you stopped what you were doing and looked at him questioningly.

“I don’t—” He had trouble breathing. “—need your help.”

Incredulously, you propped your hands on your hips.

“What?” You asked him with an air of annoyance. “Look at you. You’re only half human...or whatever you are, right now.”

“I’ll manage,” He retorted stubbornly, and then you decided that he could die for all you cared.

“Fucking hell,” You muttered under your breath and stuffed the glove back inside your backpack, zipping it unnecessarily harsh. How irritating could someone be?

Still shaken and angry, you opted to sit down in a corner of the living room where you were able to still see what Reaper was doing. If he didn’t manage to heal on his own, you were going to have to help him out eventually. Ogundimu would not take kindly to you letting one if his agents die on your watch. The one having to suffer would be Caleb.

Minutes ticked by, the sounds coming from the wounded man were slowly turning from agony to lesser pain, and you were relieved that your help apparently wasn’t needed after all.

What a waste of time that has been, you thought as you sucked on your teeth absentmindedly.

Then suddenly, Reaper spoke to you again.

“Come here.”

Instead of the command spurring you into action though, it made you freeze in your spot. You stared at him, and he at you while he was clutching the left side of his body.

He growled when you didn’t do as you were told.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” He warned, and finally you were able to get up, put on the glove and walked over to him on slightly shaking legs.

When you stopped before him, he carefully removed his clawed hand from his side to reveal the damage.

You winced sympathetically at the sight. Flesh and bone were visible amidst black mist that was trying in vain to knit them back together.

“Don’t just stand there, do something.”

Bristling, you concentrated on your healing ability, had it collect inside your palm and sent it out through the tips of the glove. Golden white light illuminated the black robed man before you and lit up the skeletal mask. You could see how flesh and bone were mending back together where the light spray touched his wound. Amazed at how fast he was healing, you wondered how Dr. O’Deorain had managed it, how she had altered the technology.

The bones were completely regenerated after a few moments, but you also felt your arm going numb again. Oh damn, the doc hadn’t changed anything about the glove’s abilities. The numbness soon began to fade and instead a dull pain began to throb, and you had to stop what you were doing. With a hiss you tried to rub life back into your appendage.

“Finish it,” Reaper growled at you, apparently very much in pain.

“I am trying!” You snapped back at him, fed up with his attitude and irritated by the pain. But there was no way for you to go on like this. “I can’t use this,” You finished as you pulled off the glove.

“What?” Reaper sounded annoyed, looked down himself and cursed. “Can’t you do it without that thing?”

You stopped and thought for a second. Touching him had not been a very good idea before, you remembered. Last time it had ended with his fist almost crushing your wrist. So you were reluctant to do it. Reaper must have seen your hesitance, because suddenly his bloodied and smoking hand shot forward to grab you by the back of your neck, pulling you towards him.

With a small yelp you landed on the couch beside him, propping yourself on your knees in order to not land directly in his lap.

“Listen,” He growled and you could feel the points of his sharp claws dig into your neck while his mask was mere centimeters away from your face. “You will heal me now or I can simply take your life force from you.”

You swallowed.

“Either way, I will be whole again,” He ended his threat, but kept holding onto you.

“Okay. Okay, fine!” You answered with your throat closing down in fear. There was no reason not to believe him. “Just—let go.”

Slowly, Reaper’s claws unhooked from your skin, leaving papercut fine wounds in their wake.

Finally free again you pulled away from him a little, wanting more space between you two.

“You need to move your arm,” You told him with a false calmness, and watched as he raised his arm to let it rest on the back of the couch, creating a space for you to get a bit closer to where you needed to be.

You raised shaking hands to his still open wound, fighting the urge to flee, and concentrated on your healing once more. Your palms became warm, the inner flow of the nanites inside your blood were a pleasant prickling on your hand and you closed your eyes in concentration.

With a final breath out, you closed the distance and touched him, his small grunt of pain made you jump a little although you had expected it, but you were able to keep up the healing process.

Beneath your fingers muscles began to form and take shape again, as well as vessels and fat tissue. Reaper sighed and seemed to relax beside you, that was a little reassuring at least.

Everything would have been fine, the healing was working, you had no time pressure and in this darkness you didn’t even have to close your eyes to not see how you were healing a Talon terrorist, slash mercenary, slash murderer.

But suddenly he groaned. No, actually moaned, and it broke your concentration. “There’s another spot,” He went on quietly and pulled your arm until you were half leaning over him. He guided your hand to his shoulder, where you felt was another wound quite deep as well. Your chest touched his, the coolness of his metallic armor seeped through your fleece jacket in no time and you shivered. The way you were lying across him now was uncomfortable, and very awkward.

Apparently, he thought the same because soon his hands started to rearrange you so you were actually straddling his legs, the metal again cold and unyielding beneath you, or were those his thighs? Either way, while he was visibly relaxing, you were a tense ball of apprehension, your concentration fleeting as your heart was hammering in your chest. You were still healing his wounds though, determined to finish it up as quickly as possible.

So when he stopped moving again, you felt confident enough to close your eyes and flee from reality for a moment, and that dreadful mask, instead focusing on the healing; one hand at his side, the other on his shoulder.

The only sounds you heard were Reaper’s ragged breaths and the blood rushing in your ears. Please let this be over soon, you prayed.

Again Reaper moaned quietly and you felt your stomach twist, you were so unbelievably uncomfortable with this whole situation. Why was this turning so weirdly...sexual all of a sudden? Your healing had never had such an effect on someone like this before, why with him?

While you were crying on the inside at the unfairness of it all, Reaper’s hands crept up your legs and came to rest on your waist, causing your breath to hitch and the healing to stop with how you wanted to pull away.

“No,” The man purred, “Keep going.” Then he leaned his head away again to let it rest on the couch’s back.

Oh god. This sounded so wrong.

You shook your head to clear it. Well, you would definitely have a word with someone about this later, but now you had to finally bring this to an end and be done with it.

So, with shaking hands, you resumed the mending of his wounds, trying in vain to ignore his big hands on your sides, and how they seemed to squeeze you from time to time.

It was a long process without you being able to use concentrated healing through an amplifier, but it would get the job done eventually. Of course such work was tiring. Already you felt the fatigue in your joints, creeping up from your hands to every part in your body. That was natural and bound to happen, but it seemed tenfold after using Dr. O’Deorain’s glove, and you weren’t exactly happy about it. Especially now in this particular situation.

Your breathing became heavy, you felt light-headed and had a hard time focusing on what you were doing. The only thing that kept you going was Reaper’s menacing presence, your instincts screaming at you to flee from him.

The more you felt your conscious slipping away from you, the more energetic the man seemed to become. You could feel him shifting and sighing as if he was greatly enjoying this, only adding fuel to your discomfort. Although all of this was starting to fade into the background, the only thought inside your head was heal, heal, heal.

And so you pushed yourself further, harder, to finish what you had started and get the hell out of this weird position. Somewhere in your mind you even yearned for the little room they had given you at Talon headquarters. Anywhere but here was fine, really.

Unbidden, thoughts of Caleb came to you, his pallid face staring into nothing in a greenish camera feed, how you had imagined him blown to bits in the warehouse explosion and how this man here had come to take you away from your previous life.

Mariquita, he had called you. You remembered that detail, even though you had no idea what it even meant.

Soon the fatigue was starting to become painful again, you desperately tried to keep your eyes open, but they just wouldn’t do what you told them to. Nothing was working anymore, all the control over your body and life had been lost and all that remained was a puppet. A puppet with your eyes and a broken smile.

A sob escaped you, you noticed somewhere far away. Blackness was crashing over you like waves. Waves of fog, or mist as dark as night while a blood red moon hung over you.

Distantly, you felt those clawed hands slide up your back, pulling you into an embrace and your cheek came to rest on a broad, fully intact shoulder. Cool air was blowing past your ear with the rumbling of a voice. What was it saying?

“—not done yet.” You were able to pick up the last part of the sentence, then your hands were positioned onto the almost completely healed wounds again, and held in place so they wouldn’t slip away. The healing you sent out were the very last remains of your ability, but it was still working. And with it, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

Heal or die.

You whimpered pathetically while your muscles spasmed and you lost all the feeling inside your fingers. Soon you were silently begging to fall unconscious, anything to get out of this feeling of actually dying.

Then, finally, Reaper hummed and released you, only to grab you again as you were slumping to the side.

One of his hands found their way around your throat, holding you in place before him. You could barely open your eyes, but what good would it do you anyway. All you were going to see would be his stupid mask.

“Nice work, mariquita,” He said with his head cocked slightly to the side. There he went with that word again. “Maybe I’ll keep you around after all.” He sounded thoughtful from what you could gather through the haze.

“Yay,” You whispered sarcastically, and that seemed to amuse him. The rough sound rippled through him and right into you as well, considering you were practically laying on top of him. As if his sinister laugh wasn’t creepy enough.

“You can—,” You tried swallowing around his grip on your throat. “—let go now.” But his fingers didn’t loosen their hold at all, instead he used them to turn your face a bit this way and that, as if he was trying to memorize your features.

Creep.

You wanted to raise your hands and push him away, but even that was too much of a task right now.

“You did such a good job at patching me up. I feel...great.”

A second of silence.

“Maybe I should return the favor,” Reaper mused. His demeanor had changed somewhat from the distant and cold killer to a calmer version. Even his voice had changed in timbre. But your thoughts were interrupted when he suddenly shifted beneath you, and his thighs began to spread causing you to move forwards and directly onto his crotch.

Your breath caught.

Oh god, let this bump between your legs be a shotgun shell or just another belt buckle.

There must have been something affecting the man because you could feel soft, warm lips pressing gently against your ear where there should have been a cold, hard mask.

“Oh,” You gasped and honestly, it was a miracle that you were still able to talk at all.

But those lips kept exploring the shell of your ear, making you shiver with the exhale of his next words.

“I’ll take care of you,” He murmured and rolled his hips into yours for emphasis.

All you managed was a weak whimper, you felt so powerless in his grasp, sapped of all your strength. And really, that’s exactly what had happened. You’d drained all your power into healing him and now he was feeling great, excited, while you were a limp sack of potatoes trying to stay awake.

“Stop,” You tried, but it only came out a breathy whisper. A whisper he should have heard, though. So he was ignoring you, the way he was beginning to feel you up was an indicator. Or his wandering lips, brushing your jaw and then your neck at the spot where his claws were not currently digging in to keep you in place.

This couldn’t be happening. Through the fog in your brain you could feel a panic rising. You were alone at this killer’s mercy.

“Get off,” you croaked, cursing your weak voice and how it made it all sound so ambiguous. But you weren’t playing or teasing here. You managed to raise one arm and limply held it against his leather clad chest. If only you could at least push away, put some distance between yourself and him.

Reaper’s lips brushed over your jugular, then he used his teeth and you swallowed drily at the sensation. It felt like he was about to deal the final killing blow. You had been today’s prey and now his meal.

A violent tremor ran through your body.

Slowly, he moved his face towards yours and through blurry eyes you could see his face—a dark smudge with burning red eyes, just like you remembered. It was difficult to discern with only the moonlight illuminating him. But then you blinked and it all became a little clearer. Underneath the smoke there were human features, a face marred by multiple scars criss-crossing over his nose and cheeks. As you looked on you saw peppered black facial hair, surprisingly well trimmed, and plush looking lips underneath.

In another life you might have called him handsome, but as it was you were too terrified by those burning demonic eyes to keep that thought for long. The smoke rising steadily from him seemed to clear a little as you watched one corner of his mouth curl.

The claws around your throat started pulling you into him further, fuelling the panic burning in your chest and with a breathless whimper your lips met his.

Everything he was doing was deceptively gentle, yet there was nowhere for you to go and he let you feel it in the way he held you and how his mouth brushed against yours sensually, followed by a wicked tongue licking over your bottom lip. Oh shit, this was spiralling out of control so fast it made your head spin.

In your dizziness and pain, even this unwanted attention suddenly started to feel...nice.

And wrong, so so wrong.

All you could do was to try and cling to the last bit of strength and defiance in you that screamed how all this was wrong and how there was no way you were enjoying any of it. Even though those soft caresses had you weak and pliant within moments. Somehow being sapped of all your strength and free will, to then being shown the smallest bit of comfort had your body convinced that it was enjoying this fucked up scenario.

You were practically lost in the sensation of his kiss, your mouth had gone lax sometime between his licks and nips and how he had deepened it considerably. You hadn’t even noticed how his grip on your throat had transferred to the back of your skull. The pointy ends of his claws dragging against your scalp had you shivering in his grasp.

Through the fog in your brain you felt how he ground against you, his evident excitement pressing into your most intimate parts.

The rage that had turned down to a simmer inside you flared up anew and with it a wave of newfound energy. You finally managed to push at his chest. The force you used dislodged his grip and as you fell down to the floor, you could see the surprise on his face. A small victory. Even if you’d hurt your butt in the process.

With shaky hands and legs you crawled away backwards, until you hit the upended coffee table behind you.

Surely, he wouldn’t let you off so easily, but Reaper remained in his spot on the sofa, his legs still spread and a smug expression on his face.

Then he simply got up to move to the corner where he had previously dumped his weapons. He appeared like a different person now, you noticed how he carried himself with ease and that his shoulders were less hunched.

You, on the other hand, were still shaking like a leaf where you lay in a heap on the floor, still catching your breath in your state of shock. Wary eyes casting anxious glances in his direction.

***

Neither of you had spoken another word after that incident and were now sitting in the helicopter again. Weariness and exhaustion were weighing down your limbs and phantom touches still ghosted over your skin in places that caused goosebumps to spread in discomfort. The thin fleece jacket around you didn’t help much with keeping you warm anymore, but not because it was especially cold around you, it was also an empty feeling inside that had you shivering.

Apparently you were still in shock, because even though your body was tired, your mind kept racing. Lips on yours, demanding, taking. More and more, your denial ignored, cast aside like it was nothing. An emptiness in your stomach made you sick, the feeling of control slipping through your fingers had you on edge and strangely lethargic as well. To say you were a mess right now would be an understatement.

All the while he was there, right next to you, sitting on the other side as if nothing had happened. No word of apology, or promise of it never happening again fueling the unease inside you.

You tried to calm down, this had just been an accident.

Yes, an accident. And it would never happen again, you would make sure of it.

When you touched down at Talon HQ again, you fled from the helicopter as fast as you could, glad that you managed not to stumble or trip as you walked towards your room in a haze.

Rounding a corner, you bumped into someone. You didn’t even have to look up to see that it was Ogundimu.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He sounded amused.

“I need to sleep,” you answered meekly, clutching the small backpack to your chest, eyes downcast. All you wanted right now was to curl up in bed.

Ogundimu made a pensive sound, then his hand landed on the familiar spot on your shoulder, albeit much gentler than all the times before. The contact made you look up again, and you found him fixing you with an almost inquisitive stare.

“How was your first mission with Talon?”

The question caught you off guard, what were you supposed to say? “Oh, it was alright. Just got up and real personal with the Reaper. Is there a way so I never have to see him again, by the way?”

Another million retorts went through your head, varying in their degree of sassiness. So you bit your tongue, took a breath and instead shrugged. “I did my job, as you asked.”

As Ogundimu regarded you, you wondered what he would think of what had happened between you and your teammate. Considering that the man was a criminal, he probably wouldn’t even care about some underling medic.

“So you did,” Ogundimu said slowly, then he lifted his hand as if to pull it away, only to brush a lock of your hair to the side, his eyes narrowing as they focused on your now exposed neck.

You stood there, immobile and mute in the face of his scrutiny and what he must have seen, and before you could find your voice again he finally removed his hand.

“You can tell me the details during the debrief.”

Your heart sank. Oh no, not a debrief. That meant you’d have to be around all the Talon goons and their stupid smug faces again when everyone would clap each other on the shoulder for a job well done.

Sighing inwardly, you turned around again at Ogundimu’s casual gesture for you to lead the way.

His looming presence behind you did nothing to ease the tension in your body. Inside the debriefing room, you opted to stay in the shadows again, tucked in a corner, as Ogundimu moved to the head of the large table. A brilliant smile stretched across the Talon leader’s face as he addressed his agents and congratulated them on their success.

But as you looked around, you noticed that a few people were missing. There had been at least half a dozen more seats occupied at the briefing that morning. Apparently, Reaper hadn’t been the only one to get shot up.

The very small smile tugging at the corner of your lips went unnoticed.

Ogundimu kept rattling on about each person’s role in the operation, acknowledging even the smallest wheel of his intricate machinery of agents. Lastly, his gaze fell on you.

“Of course we can’t forget our field medics.” He smiled at you. “It seems your work with Dr. O’Deorain is paying off. I rarely have the time to see her, so please send her my regards.” His eyes were sharp in the semi darkness of the meeting room, the illuminated backdrop of the mission details glowed like a halo around him.

You swallowed around a lump in your throat, but found that you couldn’t get any sound out. A small nod had to suffice.

Apparently happy with your non-verbal affirmation, Ogundimu went on to conclude his retelling of the mission and dismissed everyone shortly thereafter. This couldn’t have been over any faster for you; what an ordeal.

Finally, all of your team was dismissed. You sighed in relief and went to get out of there as fast as your tired feet could carry you.

The next morning, you didn’t even remember much of the walk to your room, or how you washed your face and disrobed to get in bed. What you did remember though was the vivid nightmare that had plagued you during the night.

Of being wrapped in a heavy, silky robe of darkness that had seemed to caress you slightly and had hugged you so completely you hadn’t been sure if breathing had still been possible. It had been both terrifying and strangely soothing.

Until you’d felt something sharp and pointy dragging along your skin everywhere, even though you had started to beg and plead for it to stop. It hadn’t, and you’d started to panic, frantically trying to breathe through the mist that had started to seep straight into your lungs, filling them completely with its presence and just lingering, heavy and dark. It had kept going on and on until, with one final desperate breath, you had awakened. Soaked in sweat and tangled in your sheets, the pale morning light creeping through your only window.

One hand clutched your chest, trying to will away the feeling of trepidation that still had a grip on your lungs. You kicked off the sheets the rest of the way and immediately went for the bathroom, where you splashed cold water in your face. A look in the mirror revealed dark circles under your eyes, a gaunt in your cheeks and paler skin. You really had given it your all yesterday. It was scary. Never before had you healed someone like that, until you’d almost fainted. It had taken quite a toll on you, better to not repeat it.

A wry laugh escaped you from that thought. Surely, Reaper would understand if you told him how it made you want to fucking die. He seemed like a reasonable guy…

One hand wiped over your tired face, the other clutched the bathroom sink. What were you going to do about this? Probably nothing. This was just how things were going to be from now on. Hysteria was battling with tiredness inside you at the prospect of having to go through this again and again. Of having to face Reaper once more, to see the skeletal white of his mask staring back with those dead eyes.

With a heavy sigh you pushed away and out of the bathroom to get dressed. This was just another day at Talon headquarters and nobody gave a shit if you felt bad for any reason.

#reader x reaper #female reader #fanfiction #overwatch #reaper

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biotic-boshtet · 3 years

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Mass Effect Tag Meme

unofficially tagged by the lovely @jedirangerpenguin

im bad at tagging folks soooo tag you’re it, if you want, if you dont? thats cool too

I am a fan since: uhhh hang on, since at least 2015? i know i did most of my playing in 2017 though because i took a gap year

Favorite game of the series: Mass Effect 3, mostly because theres So Much To DO as far as story goes and side quests, but close second is Mass Effect 2 bc boy do i love the drama.

Mshep or Fshep? i have never finished a run with mshep sorry, femshep by default lmao

Earthborn, Colonist, or Spacer? ive only played spacer, but i’ve read the differences and i am sorry, but this is my emotional support spacer!shep, also, i like being able to talk to my mom so

Biotics or Tech? biotics, always biotics, why use tech when i can throw things aroundwith blue magic?

Paragon or Renegade? i always go hard paragon in ME1, then slip up in ME2 because those scars are so cool, but i reign it in a touch in ME3. so, generally paragon, but just enough renegade for cool scars

Favorite class: vanguard babey! gotta zip across the field to slam into a guy and then punch him to death, i love getting up close and personal with those biotics

Favorite companion: Kaidan is my boy, but after him, Garrus and Tali are tied

Least favorite companion: ok Samara only gets off the ship for her related missions because i think she’s boring

My squad selection: for ME1 it was always Kaidan and Ash, then Kaidan and Wrex or Garrus after Virmire, in ME2 i tended to go for Garrus and Tali, or Grunt and Jack, depending on how chaotic i felt, sometimes swapping one or the other out for Thane

Favorite in-game romance: Kaidan, because, god, he’s so sweet. it was all over the moment he tried to leave Shepard an out, just in case. i love the messiness of Horizon in ME2, and how raw things still are in ME3, but he still wants to try? thats the shit

Favorite NPC: Joker! he’s so fun and he’s so much more than comic relief, he’s grounding and good and not to be a sap, but he’s right up there with Shepard as one of humanity’s finest

Favorite Antagonist: hmm, i don’t think ive got a favorite, but Morinth was really intriguing, and i get why we didn’t see more of her, obviously, but it would’ve been nice to see, like, the effects of her activities outside of Samara’s loyalty mission

Favorite loyalty mission: Tali’s! i love love love having to dig around the Alarei for evidence to clear her name, and also yelling at the Admiralty Board with that good good paragon rant

Favorite mission: Priority: Tuchanka, its really one of the first missions in ME3 where it feel’s like everything is coming together, we’ve got groups working together for a common goal, we’re curing the genophage, we get to see Mordin again, not for long, but he’s got work to do, we get Krogan history! we even get fuckign Kalros eating a reaper!

Favorite DLC: ok so Citadel, but Leviathan is a close second

Control, Synthesis or Destroy: destroy, mostly because i feel weird about control, and synthesis feels a little anticlimactic

Favorite weapon: my fists, the amount of times i charge in and then just punch some guy? worth it

Favorite place: Virmire is so beautiful i hate that its such a sad place

Favourite Quote: i really really like, “THERE’S A REAPER IN MY WAY, WREX!” , but "Hell, Garrus, you were always ugly. Slap some face paint on there and no one will ever notice." will always be very very cherished by me

#mass effect #tag meme #hey kay why are we the same person with most of these answers

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yokelish · 4 years

Text

Memento mori.

Oldy but goodie. I finally got the guts to do to Death what I wanted to do from the beginning without making it ambiguous.

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Oda Sakunosuke ✏ Word count: 4.022 ✏ Warnings: death, smoking, mentions of violence.

Memento mori.

He didn’t remember how he got here or why. Loss of time after something stressful wasn’t unheard of. Emotions, adrenaline, and shock. It must have been that what made him lose time and reason. But something told him it wasn’t the case. Not with him and not now. He went after Mimic all by his lonesome and survived. But why this place? What would make him come here once again? The bridge he met the strange fellow that, somehow, knew what a reckless thing Oda was planning on doing. A thing Oda couldn’t come back from. Yet, here he was, on the same bridge again without a scratch. Oda Sakunosuke was good but not that good. No human would be able to walk away from a band of armed mercenaries without a single…

Then he spotted someone. Someone he knew instinctively was there for him. It wasn’t any sort of familiarity to connect them, just the aura coming off was that of an experienced killer. Speaking of fisherman and fellow fisherman. Dressed in all black, with a white bandage around their head, moving towards him. The person in black was approaching him with a dangerous grace in soundless steps.

Speaking of sound, he didn’t hear anything at all. And failed to notice it up until now. It was only him here, not a stray soul to pass by. With everything terribly still, quiet, and unsettlingly peaceful. Not a lost sound to disturb the silent peace. Not even a single dot of a distracting, loud colour. Everything tranquil, frozen, and in greyscale. The person, no, that being dressed in black came closer. Regular face, thought, a bit pale, especially in contrast to dark hair and black closing.

“Oda Sakunosuke?” the stranger asked as a matter-of-factly. A strange feeling of familiarity and danger wrapped around them like cigarette smoke. “Oda Sakunosuke. Not like there are many ways to mistake you for someone else.” The corner of their lips was upturn in subtle mockery. Oda clenched his fist, nodding in agreement. His eyes carefully scanned the being before him, but nothingness talked back. A perfect nobody.

“Oda Sakunosuke,” he confirmed, hesitantly, lost in the beholding. The feeling of wanting to touch their hand, to ask questions he didn’t know he had. All because of one being appearing before his eyes.

They bowed down, “I am here for you.” There was something twisted about such phrasing, danger glimmering in one visible dark eye while the other hidden behind a white bandage. And there was a sharp smile like a glimmering blade, yet alluring and charming, even. It made sense then. In that single moment Oda understood everything. The place, the timing, the unknown entity before him.

“You aren’t from Port Mafia,” Oda spoke calmly. The realization softly wrapped itself around his mind. Comprehending the feeling of danger and familiarity, the questions spilling into his head. The man remembered why and when this feeling was coming from. It wasn’t at all about this being; its dark and twisted origin was his past self. Nothing shocking about remembering that. It came as no revelation. He had known all along. Accepting his own death, incidentally, on this very bridge. The location and the timing putting together a perfect picture of an ending that came as expected, as deserved. Oda Sakunosuke died. He was dead. And this, this was death.

“What’s that?” Death asked without any curiosity. Mockery softly resounding in its voice, sweet and welcoming. A pack of cigarettes appearing in its hand. Oda counted in total to be five cigarettes. With one between its bony fingers, the ember light started to burn on it own. Peacefully smoldering, smoke wandering and weaving shapes.

“Want some?” the Stranger asked, offering a pack. Somehow, Sakunosuke believed it knew the answer before the question. He denied, figuring that a cigarette would be tasteless in the afterlife. Everything else was. No true colours, no sounds. A cigarette would be a cheap consolation, and it wasn’t to say he needed one.

“You are Death,” Sakunosuke stated confidently. In that moment, the mockery from the stranger’s eyes dissipated and turned into something akin to glee. He was wrong, however. While there were no sounds, the colours weren’t in greyscale. They were slowly fading out. Like the ink was being sucked out from the world, leaving it lifeless. Only the blackness that was Death remained untouched and constant, untainted.

“I guess I am,” it nodded along, huffing out smoke. “If you prefer formalities, you can think of me as Death.”

Oda couldn’t see it, just happened to know so. Like a gut feeling, a sixth sense. There was nothing that told him the being standing before him was the Grim Reaper. If Death could be described as person, it was more on a bony side and with an ageless face. However, nothing about it spoke of death. Nothing frightening about them, no empty eye sockets or skull imagery. Nothing repulsive. Nothing to make him reject it.

“You must have accepted your fate,” Death said, measuring him up and down. “Makes it easier. I prefer those who accepted me. The chasing around gets boring quickly.”

“Chasing around?” he raised a brow in question.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” it grinned.

“Happy to oblige then,” Sakunosuke said, bowing down in respect. Mortality was a constant to living, a persistent threat, one could say. But he didn’t fear the prospect. Not now, not when he was alive.

“Oh no, it makes it easier for you,” Death laughed. It sounded like a normal laugh. He would have expected it to sound like empty skulls battered together. “It’s all the same to me.”

Puffs of smoke coming at his face. Could almost feel it, could almost remember what cigarette smoke smelled and tasted like. But it was fading, it was all fading just like the colours around him. The memories turning to greyscale, to black-and-white, and he knew soon they will become nothing. Only Death remained unchanged. Its eye observing and clever, the voice — sweet, lulling even, but still laughing.

“Come with me,” the Stranger said, shaking off the ash. It never landed anywhere. “Let’s have a walk, shall we? Your last one.”

Oda shrugged. It was phrased as a question, but the answer was never required. After all,

what choice does a dead person have? Wordlessly, he followed the Reaper. There is no arguing with death.

“You look…ordinary,” Sakunosuke said to fill in the silence of everything around. His steps weightless and soundless just like everything about him. Death moving soundlessly just a step ahead. Tall and lean figure hidden in a massive black cloak. Dark cloth was floating as if in the air, as if there was any wind whatsoever.

Oda couldn’t even touch his own face. It was less than air, less than nothing. And worse, he couldn’t remember much of his own appearance. But he remembered some things still. He could recall places, objects, people. He remembered—

“People are ordinary,” Death answered, “but they expect their death to be something out of the ordinary. Strange that, I must say. So many talk about scythe or wings, skull faces or shapeless spirits, as if mortal minds could comprehend such ideas.”

“Sorry?”

“I’m saying, I am decided by you. Even seeing me is your decision.”

The dead man nodded, accepting the answer. Perhaps it was his doing. “Where are we going?” Oda asked, perplexed. The scenery slowly came to nothing but a smudge of greys and shadows. He still felt as solid as a dead person could. No face, no weight behind his steps, but something held him together from being sucked into that surrounding nothingness. Only the figure of Death was unchanging, boldly standing against the smears and stains. It was a bold ink stain signifying the end of the sentence. Everything else, however, was warping, changing, until reaching a state of disorienting void. There was no up or down anymore.

“You are quick to change subjects,” Death noted, begrudgingly. “You should see for yourself. It would ruin the surprise.”

“The surprise?”

“What? Many find their own deaths surprising,” the Stranger laughed, dropping the cigarette. It disappeared midair. “Have some fun, it is your last.”

“Hm, I guess,” he said, unsure of the meaning behind the words. Death spoke them, and Sakunosuke wasn’t a fool to think there was any room for bargaining. It was, undoubtedly, his last walk and yet why should he have a gift of knowing? Death reminded Oda of someone; someone he knew when alive. He remembered the face in a blur, the voice sounding too far away. But the name was escaping each time. Unable to grasp and hold that memory of someone, it was like catching fish barehand in a stream of memories that were passing.

Finally, the scenery started to take shape. The walls built up like a house of cards, the dull colours poured in, and the details filled in the blanks. Oda knew this place, the books scattered around the floor. Unlike the last time he was in here, the place didn’t smell of blood and death. Leaving it a perfect blank memory of a place with no attachment as to why the memory was formed. This was where Oda Sakunosuke killed for the last time, where he picked up that old book knowing nothing about. Nothing special about it but a weathered cover. One book was all it took to change a life.

“You know why I am here?” the Stranger asked, sounding unusually curious. One eye looking at him. The man couldn’t help but feel laughed at. Not in a malicious manner, no, it was akin to friendly joke at his expense.

“No,” Oda shook his head, eyes roaming around the room. He was searching for that book. It was the most important part of this memory. Finding it, he was the last to reach the book as Death snatched it.

“You must know,” it said. “You accepted me.”

It didn’t make finding the answer any easier. Sakunosuke simply didn’t know. A shot in the dark it was. “Are you here to judge me?”

“I am not a mortal, so I can’t do that,” Death shrugged. “It wouldn’t be fair or just for me to judge anyone. I never lived myself. What I am here for is to make you laugh at your own mortality. Or maybe I am here to be a magnificent jerk to you if you think you deserve punishment. Mortals make me a being and give me a face to understand me, to cope with me, to accept me. They give me character and appearance, sense of duty, or wickedness, even simply a job title. You make me a being, so you may not be alone and greet me as a friend.”

“I wasn’t alone when I died. There was—”

Death opened the book at a random page, somewhere in the middle of the story. “People live to save themselves.” Pale fingers quickly and soundlessly were turning the pages forward. Oddly, the Reaper took great care of handling the book. As if precious and fragile. As if a real thing.

“Don’t be surprised,” the Stranger smiled at him. “I am as much a part of you as you are a part of me. You were born, it was inevitable that you would die. I am not an opposition to life; I am but a part of a whole.” It knew what he thought or felt, how he would react. Of course, it knew. It had to. This was just a projection of his own expectations.

“I’m kidding,” Death said. “I can’t read.” It closed the book and offered it. Oda took it with great deal of caution. The feel of the cover, the smell of the paper, and the weight of it, he could swear it was real yet knew better than that. A memory quickly fading. Strange it was how the first thing he forgot was himself. Opening the book felt like remembering a dream long forgotten, gathering it piece by piece, detail by detail. He remembered the name of a story about a man who chose to stop killing because—

Oda didn’t see as the Death circled him. To be precise, he was too occupied to notice the soundless movements of the black figure. He couldn’t avoid the push of its hand against his chest. The force sent him down to the floor as the book disappeared in the air. Sakunosuke looked up. The Stranger standing above with one dark and unforgiving eye measuring him. Its sharp smile turned into an angry frown. He was wrong. It wasn’t the aura of a killer he recognized, but of someone who hated killers. He waited. Being already dead there was no harming him. But Death just stood there, looking down on him, as its expression slowly shifted to that of neutrality.

“I am no god’s middleman,” the Stranger said, offering a hand. Oda hesitated to accept help but, ultimately, what did he have to lose? He gave it up and accepted the loss when he was alive on that bridge. The touch wasn’t there, only action. The pale palm offering help, stunning in its whiteness against the black dress. And no feeling of touch. What warmth or coldness could Death offer? He got up from the floor as the scene started to fall apart bit by bit. The layers of the memory creating the memory pilling off. Nought but cherry blossoms lost in the wind. Then, came the previous void and absence of anything around. No up, no down.

“But you are Death,” the dead man stated calmly. Sakunosuke could stand to face the dark eye of Death staring back at him. It was soulless, true, but not dead. It wasn’t brimming with kindness. It wasn’t cruel either.

“I am,” it nodded in passive agreement. “But if there is god, it wasn’t born and isn’t alive. Not the way people are. There is no way for us to meet, no way for me to know. I don’t know what comes after me, if at all.”

Oda was wrong. The sense of familiarity didn’t come from recognizing a fellow killer or from the distaste it had for killers, he merely knew it all along. He had experienced it so closely, so often, he came to know it by subtle touch alone. Death was with him since the moment he was born: a silent companion, shadow of a friend. He knew it all along because he was once an assassin. He, too, was death. The thought pained him. Strange as he thought nothing could pain in the afterlife.

Death turned around and started to walk away again. There was once again a faint cigarette smoke trailing behind the black figure. The dead man followed, unhurried. Death couldn’t run away from him just as he couldn’t run away from it. The cigarette was thrown into the air, falling but never landing. As before, the scene started to form without any warning. The blank white papers flying together, coming together to bind together pages of a memory. It was aching to observe his life now. Not because he lost it but because he couldn’t truly relieve it. Just bound to re-watch it.

The café, the book, and him reading it. The man whose figure was shrouded, leaving only a silhouette for him to guess at. The man claimed to be the author. That was the man who told him to write a novel. Oda never got to do it. He couldn’t answer why either. One of the first things he forgot was himself.

“I like this memory,” Death said. “Sad to lose it.”

“Do you know who that man was?” Sakunosuke asked. The man who had changed a killer into a man who was only interested in living. He wanted to remember the name even for a second, but it refused to reveal itself.

“I do and I don’t,” the Stranger spoke softly, lamenting. “It will do nothing for you to know it now, truthfully.”

“Is this what is called ‘life flashing before my eyes’?”

“A life review, yes. Unfortunately, posthumous.”

The memory started to fall apart into a million paper scraps and offered nothing to soothe its passing. The papers flying chaotically around as if caught in a whirlwind. Oda could imagine the sound. But it was only his imagination, he knew. The Stranger was smiling fondly, silently watching it being torn into nothingness. The papers flying, flying away, disappearing. One of the million of scraps of the broken and fading memory landed in the Reaper’s hand.

“Yes, I am one and the same,” Death spoke, offering a scrap to him. “And, yes, I’ve met all of them. Or, to be precise, they’ve met me. Way too soon, too. But you already know that.”

“Were they—”

“I was as kind and as gentle as I could be.”

He accepted the words and the piece of paper. It was strange to be relieved by the words spoken by Death, more so to believe it wholeheartedly. The scrap contained an important paragraph from the book, explaining the reason why the assassin stopped killing. It made sense. It all made sense. And Sakunosuke remembered.

“We should go there first,” the Stranger said with certain melancholy. Soft and gentle, kind even — a perfect stranger.

The curry shop unfolded like a children’s pop-up book. Oda could almost smell the aroma of the curry and hear the children upstairs. He swore he could hear the steps on the second floor. But the Reaper placed its hand on his shoulder. “They are not really there, Odasaku,” it said. “You know that.”

The man nodded in understanding. Those were all his memories. Nothing else but his memories. An empty world of his own crumbling, fleeting memories. The faces he could still remember were turning blurry; the voices remembered were getting quieter and more distant. Fading, withering, wilting, dying. He was forgetting, he would forget. This was an end for him. And the names of the orphans were already forgotten. Their faces and voices he could still remember and vividly so. But those details wouldn’t last long. He was dead. And those memories will die with him. Oda Sakunosuke left nothing of value behind in the end. Or—

“Let’s go,” someone said. Oda heard but failed to recognize his own voice. The hand was till resting on his shoulder. It almost had weight to it, an important thing to ground him. It was him who wanted to leave the place he couldn’t go back to it. Once it held something precious, but it was taken away, stolen, ripped away. There was no returning, nothing to go back to. Not after what had happened, not after his own passing. The only thing left was the knowledge he had avenged them.

“As you wish,” the Stranger easily gave in. This change was unlike the previous ones. The scene didn’t fall apart or got erased. Like watercolour mixed, it sank in and transformed into something different. The mahogany wood, the bar stools, the stairway upwards. A replica of his past. Another place to never go back to. Where three people gathered, had drinks and talked about nonsense. Their silhouettes present for a moment. But only the one belonging to Oda Sakunosuke he could recognize.

Accepting his own death was easier than it should have been. It wasn’t something foreign and frightening. Death could never intimidate an assassin, didn’t scare him. But with it came immense loss, he knew. And he wasn’t sure the loss would be his. He could swear he wasn’t dying alone, his—

“I don’t think we should go to the last place,” Death said, forlorn. There was no hint of a smile on its lips. Its dark eye looking into the cigarette pack. Oda counted one left inside. Perhaps he could not name the last place, nonetheless, there was a keen feeling about it. A memory too painful, too fresh, too deep. It was still bleeding and throbbing, but the mechanism of the injury slowly forgotten. Just pain, dulled pain, forgotten pain….

Instead he came to sit on the bar stool. The situation too familiar, recalled to its fullest. A drink came to rest against his fingers on it own. He didn’t believe he could drink it. It had ice in it but never felt cold to touch. There was no sensation to it.

“You said you were but a face I gave you,” the man said, looking at half-full glass. “I am surprised you don’t look like me.”

The Reaper jumped on the bar counter. It started to look at its hands as if noticing them for the first time. It touched the pale face, the bandage hiding its other eye, hands sliding down the dark hair. It looked marvelled by its own appearance it could never know of. There was no recognition in those motions. Death didn’t have a face unless given. It couldn’t pretend to be something else unless prompted to. Death’s masks were decided by the dead, remaining forever in their servitude. If the dead were haunted by their lost lives, Death must be haunted by the living.

“Do I look interesting then?” the Stranger asked, sounding strangely delighted. It continued to be amazed by the prospect of having its appearance explained. “Who do I look like? Oh, you probably don’t recall much anymore. But do I look like someone you knew?”

Sakunosuke thought for a moment. Yes, it made perfect sense. He may not be able to recall the name, the face, the voice. But held no doubts about the nature of that person. One of the shrouded figures, without a doubt, belonged to that young man with a bandage around his eye.

“Yes, you look like a friend,” Oda said with a nod and relaxed sigh. The feeling he knew wasn’t a mistake. The feeling he knew Death already was aware of. The sense of a journey coming to an end. The glass and the drink disappeared in a time lapse of an old photograph losing its colour. Fading like an old photograph, with colours seeping out of it and shapes losing their sharpness. From barely recognizable to unfathomable, to blank, to nothing. Swiftly wiped, gone. It was nothing more than a warm breath on glass.

“What now?” Oda asked when the scene of the bar was eliminated. Death closed its eyes and made a few steps towards him.

“Strange one you are,” it said, showing teeth.

No, he thought. He wasn’t the strange one. There was someone he knew who was a true eccentric. Someone who was perplexing, and complex, and very wounded. Someone who reminded him of a child about to burst into tears. That someone was there, and he was—

“You didn’t believe in the kindness of the world,” Death continued, “but you were. You were kind.”

There was nothing he could say to that. Oda Sakunosuke was an ex-assassin and Port Mafia’s handyman. Kindness wasn’t a prevalent thing in the Mafia or assassination business. And the way he died — the way he chose to die — wasn’t about kindness either. It was about brutality and rage and grief. It was about vengeance; it was about giving up.

“There’s nothing more I can offer,” the Stranger said. “Nothing more to show you,” it reached out its arm, pale palm open for him to accept. “But…I can offer you my hand, believing in your grief.”

Oda shrugged again, accepting what little death could offer. Ah, finally he was able to finish the fleeting and interrupted thought. Oda Sakunosuke didn’t die alone, he had a friend. His friend was the very same odd young man. The man who gave Death his appearance, the man who looked like a child about to burst into tears at gunpoint. Sakunosuke said goodbye to his friend. Oda reached out to touch Death’s offered hand. The touch, perhaps, never happened.

When Death opened its eyes again, Oda Sakunosuke was gone. It threw away the last cigarette left continued on its way.

#yokelishtorturesenglish #bsd odasaku #oda sakunosuke and dazai osamu #oda sakunosuke #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines

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akaluan · 4 years

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Erich/Kisuke/Alexis: Soulmate AU + Character in Peril Part 16

“Congratulations, sir,” Degurechaff announces as she slips into the tent, clearly distracted by something. “The men seem to have collectively decided that your foreign soulmate is a good man and that the entire reason I stepped in as chaperon is because I understand more of his language than you do. No one seems to have caught… on… sir, what exactly are you doing?”

Erich casts a sheepish look at Degurechaff and snuffs out the spiritual fire he’d been using to burn his paperwork. “Removing intelligence the enemy could collect?”

“With green fire,” she says dryly, then turns her exasperated look onto Alexis, who just smiles and continues to let her ghostly blue fires dance across the stack of paperwork in front of her. “And blue fire. From your hands. Where anyone could walk in on you.”

“It’s expedient,” Erich says in a half-hearted attempt to defend his decision. “And we can control it better than real fire.”

Degurechaff sighs and drops another stack of papers on his ash-covered desk. “Light that up then. We’re almost ready to go, just waiting on our injured and the last of the cleanup.”

Erich makes an agreeable noise and sets a hand atop the stack of papers. A small moment of concentration and the paper crinkles, charring around the edges as his power sinks in and emerald flames erupt. The fire burns quiet-soft-calm, brushing silken-cool against his fingers as it bends to his will to devour the paper, leaving nothing but ash in its wake.

It’s a frivolous use of power, bright and showy and childish, but… it’s also a reminder.

(He’s not powerless, not helpless, no matter how he’s been feeling.)

(These simple, childish exercises are the basis for greater, more dangerous powers.)

(Powers he mastered many, many years ago…)

Degurechaff huffs at his display, but says nothing as she sweeps the tent to check on everything. “Where’s Urahara?”

“Fetching his blade to give it to me,” Erich answers as he dusts his hands off and turns to face her. “He’s decided that the best time to do so is now, for whatever reason.”

She makes a face at him, then shakes her head and returns to her inspection of the tent. “Well, we can’t wait much longer for him, though I doubt it will be hard for him to catch up.”

“It won’t be,” Erich agrees easily, letting a hint of question-concern-curiosity drift down into his soulmark while wondering exactly how far away Urahara had stashed his blade. He gets back surprise-sheepishness-loyalty and—

“I’m back!” the man announces with forced cheer as he ducks into the tent, and suddenly Erich understands.

(Urahara hadn’t kept his blade far away, he’d just been steeling himself.)

(Why in the world is the man so nervous?)

“Welcome back,” Erich replies as he takes careful, measured steps closer to the man. Being close is starting to be easier somehow, this morning’s events aside, and… it’s more of a relief that Erich wants to admit even to himself.

(He might actually be able to sell this to his people, might actually be able to convince them…)

(Two more days before the first Quincy beyond his wife spots them.)

(He can do this…)

Urahara watches him for a moment, gaze oddly weighty, then slowly lifts his hands, a sheathed blade balanced atop his palms. There’s a cord knotted around the hilt and sheath, tying the parts together so the blade can’t easily be drawn, but otherwise it looks normal enough. “Here,” he murmurs, a desperate edge of nervousness-fear-loyalty creeping through their bond.

The man doesn’t even realize what he’s projecting, Erich abruptly realizes when the emotions don’t taper off or shift to something less telling. Something about this gesture, about handing over his weapon, has more meaning to him than it does to Erich, and that’s… worrying.

(What has he demanded of his soulmate?)

(What line has he unwittingly crossed that he shouldn’t have?)

(He doesn’t know.)

(He doesn’t know, and all he can do is continue on with this action that his soulmate fears and…)

There’s bile in his throat as Erich reaches up, as his hands fold over the sheath and—

Fear-anger-fury-how dare you-how dare-want-need-loyalty-been burned before—you didn’t know it’s fine it’s fine it’s fine-hurt him and pay—

Erich gasps. Snatches his hands away. Presses them to his chest and tries to breathe through the panic that rises because— because— that blade— that— he demanded Urahara hand over a piece of his own soul and that piece is its own being and he demanded Urahara give up a part of himself for the sake of appearance!

“Erich.” Alexis steps between them. Cuts off his view of Urahara’s shuttered-guilty-hurting eyes. Cups his chin in her hands. Taps ‘focus’ into the skin below his ear. “Breathe with me,” she says-orders-demands, voice low and focused, fingers tapping ‘focus-focus-focus’ into his skin and—

He breathes.

Listens to the insistent demand to ‘focus’ drummed into his skin. Remembers days when ‘focus’ meant something else, something innocent, when it was just wandering attention due to boring lessons, not scattered, broken thoughts because— because—

‘Focus’, she taps — demands — and then adds ‘me’. An order. A directive. One he can follow.

He pries his eyes open — can’t remember closing them — and meets Alexis’ worried gaze. Reaches up to grasp one of her wrists. Presses his fingers into her pulse and counts—

“With me now?” Alexis murmurs, concerned but patient.

“Yes.”

Alexis nods and runs a thumb across his cheek. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

He breathes. Counts her pulse. Gives himself a moment to actually process what he felt, trying to find the words to describe the sensation and coming up short. “His blade is… part of him. Holds — or is, maybe? — part of his very soul,” Erich begins slowly, thinking on the vast rawness of a soul so brutally exposed to casual touch.

(Were all Reaper blades like that?)

(How did Urahara manage to use that sword?)

“It’s what?” Alexis asks in shock.

“It’s part of his soul,” Erich repeats, then tilts his head slightly to glance at Degurechaff when she makes a disbelieving noise. “Reapers are souls, remember,” he tells her, only a touch awkwardly. “The idea that they could… form part of themselves into a weapon isn’t exactly beyond the bounds of reason.”

He thinks he hears her mutter something to the effect of ‘this is all beyond the bounds of reason’, but before he has a chance to say anything else, she’s turned her attention on Urahara.

“Did you know he would react like this?” Degurechaff asks, sharp-polite-deadly.

Erich can’t see how Urahara reacts, not with Alexis still standing between them, but he hears the shift of cloth and the man clearing his throat before saying, “Not like this, precisely… I knew he would realize what Benihime is, but… I didn’t expect…”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?!” Erich demands as he takes a half step to the side, pulling free of Alexis’ hold. He needs to see Urahara’s expression, needs to see his eyes—

Urahara’s gaze flickers down, body unnaturally still and his sword — Benihime? — still held out in offer. “Would it have made a difference?” he asks, a touch of resignation in his tone. “Would telling you have changed your decision? Would your people simply accept that you’ve left me armed because she’s part of me?”

They both know the answer to that, as much as it burns Erich to admit. Urahara is a dangerous man, with or without his weapon, but leaving him so visibly armed while leading him directly into the heart of their stronghold is…

Unthinkable.

“It didn’t seem—”

“Important? It didn’t seem important?” Erich growls as he tips his chin up and fixes Urahara with a steady look. “You…” he stops himself with a bitten off curse and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose. His hand is trembling and he can’t quite seem to take a full breath, but… it’s fine. He’ll get through this just like all the other times. “Colonel, if you would translate for me again?”

“Of course, sir,” Degurechaff answers, the sheer steadiness of her voice enough to ground him a bit more.

“I am uncertain if simply handing over part of yourself is common amongst Reapers—” he suspects it’s taboo or close to it actually, based on Urahara’s reactions— “but here it is not. If you had spoken of it, we could have discussed things. We could have found some way to compromise, or to lessen the impact of me touching her unexpectedly.” He wets his lips and looks at the deceptively plain weapon in Urahara’s hands; there are very few ways around him having to carry her, and he’s… not exactly looking forward to it. “The fact you felt it wasn’t even worth mentioning is concerning. She clearly has a sentience, and just as clearly doesn’t like me—” he ignores Alexis’ concerned noise and Degurechaff’s frustrated one— “so should I take this as a oblique attack upon myself? An attempt to punish me for overstepping boundaries I did not know existed?”

Alexis tenses at his side, her spiritual power creeping towards the surface. She sends him a look when he pushes calm-steady-peace through their connection, but settles nonetheless.

(Thankfully.)

(He doubts this is a case of Urahara deliberately trying to harm him, but… he needs the man to understand how it looks.)

Erich watches as Degurechaff finishes her translation and Urahara’s face pales, shock-concern-denial echoing through their connection.

“I am sorry,” Urahara says in Imperial, rough and awkward and desperate the way he’s rarely been before. “I…” he makes a noise of frustration and shakes his head sharply, falling back into Akitsugo. “I did not mean it like that, I swear to you. It’s… it’s not common to allow someone else access to our zanpakutou, but I’ve never— being able to directly feel the spirit in it isn’t usual. There’s… there are a few tales about soulmates being able to, but all of them are from the very beginning of our society, a few thousand years ago. I didn’t… I didn’t think there was anything to them beyond wishful thinking. None of the older Captains ever mentioned anything like that, and I know at least two of them are soulmates…”

“They probably didn’t want to, if this whole… thing is as intimate as the two of you are making it sound,” Degurechaff chips in, then wrinkles her nose when the two of them turn to look at her. “Sorry sir, but if that was me, I wouldn’t be telling anyone something like that.”

“No, you’re correct. If you weren’t here to see it…”

“Trust me, sir, I understand.”

Erich nods once, then turns to translate Urahara’s words for Alexis. The more he speaks the more thoughtful she becomes, her wariness settling and the traces of her power fading from the air.

Seeing her settling makes it easier for him to relax, and his relaxation makes the tension in Urahara’s shoulders ease away. It doesn’t fix anything, doesn’t change that he still has to carry part of Urahara’s soul at his side, but… the calmer all of them are, the better.

(If only he hadn’t been caught by surprise.)

(If only he wasn’t so on edge…)

(Curse this whole situation!)

Erich takes a moment to corral his thoughts, then turns his attention back to Urahara. The man is still on edge, still cautious-concerned-resigned, still offering Erich part of his soul…

“Do you actually trust me with her?” Erich can’t help but ask as he takes a tiny, cautious step closer.

(If Urahara doesn’t trust him, him carrying that blade isn’t going to go well for either of them.)

(He… honestly doesn’t blame Urahara if that’s the case.)

(This… this is too much too soon, just like this morning…)

Urahara blinks, surprise-confusion-uncertainty rippling through their connection before being abruptly snuffed out, and says, “Maa, of course—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Erich snaps, tipping his chin up to meet Urahara’s gaze steadily.

“There’s no other option—”

“We can find one.” Erich grits his teeth and forces his frustrations back, knowing his volatility is doing nothing for the situation.

(He’s better than this!)

(Focus!)

He swallows his emotions and forces himself to breathe, ignoring the strange way Urahara is watching him in favor of summoning up the strength of will that let him handle Degurechaff before he truly knew her. “Alexis could carry her, if you trust my wife more,” he offers, tone as even and calm as he can make it. “Or perhaps Degurechaff, if the issue is that we’re soulmates.”

Urahara watches him, pale grey-green eyes wide and body worryingly still, and Erich knows in his soul that he’s once again done something, said something, that Urahara doesn’t understand how to process. For a moment he thinks Urahara won’t answer him, that the man doesn’t know how to answer, but then…

“Can we… try again?” Urahara almost whispers, gaze flickering down to Benihime and then back to Erich. “I… trust you, I do. It was just… it was unexpected for both of us. Maybe… maybe now that we know…?”

Erich gives a shallow nod, giving up on arguing for the moment. If Urahara wants to try again…

He lifts his hands and reaches for Benihime, watching the tiny signs of distress rising the closer he gets to touching her and…

Pauses, bare inches from the blade.

Breathes.

Lets his powers spin from his fingertips—

“What…?” Urahara murmurs in disbelief, distress fading into confusion as Erich gently brushes his power against Benihime. Once, again, again, until he finds a tiny gap in the man’s control, a way in that Urahara has left him.

Gently, Erich reminds himself as he begins to weave their spiritual powers together. Gently, he continues to repeat, threading careful, cautious tendrils into the edges of Urahara’s self. This is more trust, more intimacy, than he wanted to give for… for months if not years—

(Quincy do not give of themselves lightly, not with how easily this act can break them.)

(He won’t survive this going wrong.)

(He doesn’t even know how Reapers feel about doing this, doesn’t know what boundaries he might be treading upon, but…)

—but he does it all the same. This is the only thing he can think to do, the only act that has a chance at settling Urahara’s fears, and if it takes the most intimate bond outside of soulmates that he can think of…

He’ll do it.

(If he wants to be trusted, he must first extend his own trust.)

Urahara slowly reaches back, disbelief-wonder-loyalty coloring both his spiritual presence and their soulbond as the two of them weave the very edges of their being together. It’s not particularly deep or solid but it’s there, different from their soulmarks but no less powerful, no less intimate…

Erich lets his hands rise. Brushes the very tips of his fingers across Benihime’s sheath, waiting-wary-cautious of the same reaction as before, and—

Caution-thoughtful-I’m watching you-wonder-fascination-cautious trust-don’t you dare hurt him-

He breathes through the disorienting rush of sensations, using their new connection to carefully blunt the brutal intimacy of touching part of Urahara’s soul without reaching a true accord and—

It’s better. Easier.

(There’s certainly less hatred aimed at him.)

(That’s promising at least.)

Erich curls his fingers around Benihime’s sheath and lifts her out of Urahara’s hands, letting the sense of her settle into the edges of his power where Urahara’s power has been woven. Her power feels different from Urahara’s, a shade or two to the side, sharper-colder-harsher than Urahara’s ever felt; it’s not enough for most people to register, but with his connections to the man it’s… noticeable.

(He’s holding a part of Urahara that’s become nothing but a weapon, nothing but a tool to be used, killing on command, and…)

(He wonders if all Reaper blades feel this way.)

(He wonders if it matters.)

He holds her for a moment, debating the best way to carry her — it feels wrong to relegate a part of Urahara’s soul to being tucked away or hung from a backpack — before he makes a decision and lowers her towards his right hip, just behind his pistol. A touch of concentration and power solidifies around her, twisting into a harness that attaches her to his belt, and a thread of his personal power seals the construct in place.

(Now he won’t — can’t — lose her, not with his own power — his own will — binding her to his side.)

(So long as he does not exhaust his spiritual power, nothing can take her from him.)

Urahara stares at him, pale eyes gleaming with emotions that Erich can’t quite parse, then darts a glance down to Erich’s hip where Benihime now sits. “Thank you,” he murmurs as he takes a small step back, hands dropping to his side as if he no longer knows what to do with them. “I didn’t expect…”

Erich purses his lips and rests a hand briefly on Benihime’s hilt, fingers tracing the odd, complex knot binding her closed. “I am not without kindness,” he settles on after a moment. “She’s part of you.”

They stare at one another, assessing-judging-waiting, silence stretching between them as they both tentatively brush against the other’s power again and again, like children poking at a loose tooth, unable to ignore it, unable to let it go—

Degurechaff coughs lightly, dragging Erich’s gaze away from Urahara and to her; she pointedly taps her wrist and arches an eyebrow at him. “If we have everything sorted out…?”

Erich drops his hand away from Benihime’s hilt and looks back to Urahara. “Is this acceptable to you…?” he asks.

“It is,” Urahara agrees with another mask of a smile, still cautious-wary-tense but with traces of hope beginning to creep in.

(This is still wrong, still too much-too fast-too intimate, but… they’ll get through it.)

(They have to.)

Erich nods sharply and tips his chin towards the exit. “After you, Colonel.”

“Right. I’ll get the men in order.” Degurechaff salutes and stalks towards the tent flap, ducking through without a backwards glance. She begins barking orders the moment she’s outside, her voice carrying with the ease of long practice, her words fading slowly away as she moves off.

Erich heaves a sigh and rubs at the side of his nose, taking one last moment to gather himself, then steps over to his desk and scoops up his pack to sling across his back. “Right. Let’s go. We have places to be and we’re burning daylight.”

Alexis hums and brushes past him as she goes to grab her own pack, settling it in place and making sure she can easily grab any of her weapons.

Urahara laughs awkwardly and rubs at the back of his head. “You look… fierce,” he manages, looking between them in fascination. “I… like it.”

“You’ll like me more when I’m not stressed,” Erich tells the man dryly, then shakes his head and turns away, uncertain where that comment came from. “Enough talk, let’s move.”

He strides from the tent, confident that his soulmates will follow.

(Three days.)

(Just three more days.)

(They can make it.)

#soulmate au #in which there is misunderstandings and then COMMUNICATION!#they're... kind of getting better about that #kind of #minutely #it's a work in progress okay #they'll get there #also we're winding towards where i want to end this #only a handful more segments i think #gods this thing is over 40k words before the type of editing i require to put something on AO3 #i feel like i'm probably going to hit 50k easily in the unedited doc #and heck... maybe 70k when i go back through and edit this damned thing?#yeesh #this is my second longest story and I DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW

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