#that was. spewing quite a lot of blood. and we were attacking it but it was continuously regaining hp so we had to really go ham | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jarondont · 5 months

Text

Chapter 1!!!

So I finally finished Ch. 1 of my book Smoke from the Fire- the first installment in The Reign of the Revolution series :DDDDD

Remember that NOTHING is final (but this is what I'm likely going to stick with), and also due to personal reasons this is the only full chapter I'll be sharing. I'll share snippets of certain scenes, certain lines of dialogue I like, or anything else like character-related stuff, but I won't be sharing any more full chapters :(

Word count: 2,056

Anyways, I hope you like it!

Let's begin, shall we?

--------------------

In my life, I’d made a lot of mistakes.

But none quite as bad as this.

All I could do now was close my eyes, clench my fists, and hope that they wouldn’t find me.

Because if they did, I was as good as dead.

---

In case you haven’t seen the overabundance of wanted posters with my name on them, let’s begin with an introduction.

My name is Silas Crow. Guilty until proven innocent; wanted dead or alive.

It’s not that I’ve led a life of crime. Quite the opposite, actually. Up until a few years ago, my parents and I had been living a simple life on the island of Cartris—a territory of Losca, just a little south of the mainland. Popí was a fisherman, although he liked to call himself a sailor. Mimá would sell the fish he caught. She was also well-educated, so she’d reserve some time every day to teach me. When I didn’t have lessons, I’d often go on fishing trips with Popí or help Mimá at the Cartris fish market. Sometimes, Popí would even take us to mainland Losca for a week. We’d sell fish there—at the larger market, so that we’d get more money.

It was a peaceful life. But that was before Endox came around.

Emperor Endox II had been a horrible ruler since about three years ago—shortly after his twenty-eighth birthday, when he killed his father to get the throne for himself, and with him, his mother, since she tried to protect him. Everyone put up with him at first, since we knew how dangerous he was. But then things started getting out of hand.

A few months ago, news spread throughout Losca that Endox’s wife, Meralina, had been brutally murdered by him after they had an argument about matters regarding their son, Prince Faelen. What matters, no one knew. In fact, rumor had it that the man who told this story in the first place was never seen nor heard from again.

Endox only grew more unfair and selfish since then. Taxes had always been high for us peasants, but Endox wasn’t satisfied. A few weeks ago, he raised them impossibly high, and for what? So that he could benefit off of the people’s hard-earned money. He raised them so high that many peasants started dying of starvation.

By then, we’d had more than enough, so we protested. A simple, bloodless protest. But since so many peasants had gathered for the protest, we had Estraham Castle surrounded, and the emperor’s troops panicked.

So they attacked.

The March on Estraham marked the beginning of the Loscan Revolution. Hundreds of lives were lost that day: the emperor’s troops—twenty-seven; the peasants—over three hundred.

My parents included.

It had been one of those weeks where Popí took us to the mainland. But this time, instead of selling fish, we were there for the protest.

If only we had realized beforehand what a mistake that had been.

I could still hear the gunshots; the screams of innocent protestors. Later, I’d find out that only about thirty of them made it out alive. I could still see the horror on my mother’s face as my father was shot square in the chest, blood spewing violently from the wound. I still felt her fingers digging into my arm as she begged me to leave, to save myself.

Then she, too, was shot. The bullet lodged itself in her leg, causing her to cry out in pain and collapse to her knees.

“Mimá!” I screamed, an agonizing mixture of fear and sorrow building up in my chest.

Mimá grasped her calf where she had been shot, but she gathered up her strength to look at me one last time. “Go, Silas, please!” She cried. “Find the Nemesis. Find Hunt. He’ll help you.”

“No!” I yelled, tears streaming down my face. “Come with me, please—I can’t lose you, too.”

“Go,” she whispered, her voice cracking from the pain.

Then she was shot again. As the second bullet struck her in the back, I heard myself screaming, crying, begging for her not to leave me.

Yet she did.

The last words Mimá said to me were, “Vei livé, Silas.”

Live free.

Those words were since etched into my mind.

I vaguely remembered running away, ignoring the pain in my shoulder as a bullet ripped through my flesh, and pushing through the crowd that was rapidly falling around me. I ran, and I didn’t look back.

After what seemed like hours, I found myself in a small alley. I touched my injured shoulder with my other hand, and it came back soaked in blood. Ripping off a strip of cloth from the bottom of my trousers, I wrapped it tight around the wound and knotted it. That took up the last of my energy and willpower. Leaning my head against the stone wall, I slid to the ground and closed my eyes.

Vei livé, Silas. Vei livé…

And it all came flooding back.

That was it. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down my cheeks as great sobs shook my body. They were gone. My parents were gone, along with far too many others.

And I was alone.

I wasn’t sure how long I sat there, nor did I care. I remembered hearing voices outside the alley and the stomping of boots. The emperor's troops, no doubt searching for anyone who escaped. They never found me, but if they had, I wouldn’t have fought back. What was the point?

Then I remembered what Mimá had told me to do—to find the Nemesis. I wasn’t sure what that was, but one thing was certain: I couldn’t let any of their deaths be in vain.

So I stood and brushed away my tears, hearing my mother’s voice in my head once again.

Vei livé.

“I will, Mimá,” I whispered. “I promise.”

---

Days passed, then weeks, but it felt as if the March on Estraham had happened only yesterday. The streets were plagued with the emperor’s soldiers, or the Dekhrinn, as they had come to be known—Loscan for people of terror.

They accepted this name—in fact, causing terror was their main goal. Whenever they saw the Dekhrinn coming, people hid away in their homes, shut the curtains, and locked their doors. And yet, every day, someone would disappear, usually in the dead of night. But no one dared to fight against them. They were too terrified.

As for me … I lived off of whatever I could find. And I had come to discover just how many alleys Losca’s capital city, Cyvalos, had.

Alleys that were perfect for hiding.

As the stomping of boots drew closer, the only thing I could focus on was the racing of my heart in my ears. The voices became more and more defined until they stopped right outside the alley.

“Have you found anyone?” a deep voice asked.

“No, sir,” a second man said.

“Names.”

“What?”

“Tell me their names,” the first one demanded, irritated.

I heard the crinkling of paper, and I took that opportunity to slightly peek my head out from the shadows. Four Dekhrinn were positioned just outside the alley, their armor shining red and gold. Loscan colors. Two of the men stood off to the side, one twirling his fingers nervously and the other rocking back and forth on his heels. Another Dekhrinn stood with his back to me—the one who had fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. The last man stood in front of him, a badge on his shoulder making it clear that he was the one in charge.

“We were assigned four revolutionaries, sir,” said the man with the paper. “Fenerias Hunt, Annwyl Cadarius, Eraka Orelein, and—” he hesitated. “And Silas Crow.”

So they were looking for me.

“You still haven’t caught Crow?” growled the man in charge. A pause, then he mumbled, “The next time I ask for a report, that Silas boy should have been brought to the emperor, alive or dead. Is that clear?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Good.” With that, I heard his boots stomp away.

The other three Dekhrinn let out a long exhale as soon as he was out of earshot. For a few seconds, all was silent. Then the man with the list of names yelled, “Well? Don’t just stand around! Find them!” and he, too, stomped away.

The two other Dekhrinn shuffled closer to the alleyway entrance. I ducked into the shadows, my heart pounding.

“How do they expect us to find them?” one wondered aloud. “Losca is huge. They could be anywhere.” Silence, then he prompted, “Henrik?”

“What?” The other man—Henrik—asked.

“Do you ever wondered what would happen if we … you know, ran away?”

Henrik was silent for a beat. “Don’t say that. You never know who’s listening.”

“Yes, but …” There was a shuffling of feet. “Endox—”

“The emperor, Keflas,” Henrik corrected. “Show some respect if you want your head to stay attached to your neck.”

“If the emperor hears what I have to say about him, he’d behead me anyway,” the man named Keflas mumbled. “I think … well, don’t you think he’s a bit unfair?”

I had half a mind to run up to his face and yell, you think? but I forced myself to take a steadying breath.

Keflas continued, “I’m scared, Henrik. Just the other day, Sigourney’s husband disappeared.”

Henrik grunted, finally opening up to conversation although he still sounded a bit uncomfortable. “I heard about that,” he said. “Rumor has it that he was turned in by his own brother. They say you could hear his screams from the other side of the castle.”

Keflas shuddered. “Whatever he said, he probably didn’t deserve and end like that.”

“Exactly, which is why you should shut up before someone hears you!” retorted Henrik.

Keflas mumbled an apology. “Maybe we should start searching.”

Henrik muttered his agreement, and I heard their feet stomp away.

I slowly peeked my head out again, checking to make sure they were gone. Once I was sure that the alley was empty, I tiptoed out of my hiding place. This was my chance.

I ran as fast as I dared out of the alley—or tried to. Halfway out, I tripped on a root and fell on my face with a thud.

“Did you hear that?” came Henrik’s voice from the other side of the alley.

“Dakhas,” I cursed quietly. How could I be so stupid?

“Someone’s in there,” said Keflas.

I cursed again, then stood and quickly brushed myself off. Maybe I could still make it out without them finding me.

“There he is!” Henrik yelled.

I glanced behind me. Henrik and the other Dekhrinn from earlier—the one with the list of names—were running towards me while Keflas called for more soldiers.

That settles it, I thought. Time to go.

I sprinted out the alley.

Blood rushing in my ears and the Dekhrinn only a few paces behind me, I turned a corner just as a gunshot rang out. A bullet whizzed past me, just missing my ear.

I paused only for a second. Almost there, I thought to myself.

I kept running, pushing past confused passersby whose eyes widened when they saw who were behind me. I just had to get to the docks.

To the Nemesis.

As it came into view, I paused for a second to catch my breath, resting my hands on my knees. After weeks of searching, I had finally found what Mimá had told me to find. The Nemesis was what seemed like a large trading vessel. Why she asked me to find it, I didn’t know. All I knew was that I had to get aboard, or else I was dead meat.

“Hey!”

Oh no.

I glanced behind me and saw not two, but eight Dekhrinn running after me, pistols drawn. I eyed the docks again, but it was too far of a run. They’d shoot me down before I even got close.

To my left was a bustling fish market that seemed to go on for miles. If I mixed in with that crowd, they’d never find me.

I whispered a request for the Nemesis to stay at the docks for a little longer, then raced toward the fish market with eight Dekhrinn hot on my heels.

--------------------

So, what'd you think?

Also, keep in mind the names of the three revolutionaries (excluding Silas) they're searching for. These characters are important later 😉

(So is the prince but he comes in in book 3)

23 notes · View notes

spectrum-studios · 15 days

Text

Story notes : dystopian space, tw: mentions of blood and slight blood, violence, moderate language, gore.

This is a school assignment I made, and I had lots of classmates and teacher advice taken, and it's a part of my final for the creative writing class.

Also, here's some mentions to people i wish to share this with!

@lethalcontracts @adriftinthev0id @xdollydoodlesx @orbdotexe @celestelunisea16 @gizmocrate-werecrow

Story below the cut!

“Hello, I'm the boss of this [REDACTED] company, YOU are my newest assistant, YOUR job is to make sure the crews are mentally sane, YOU will activate the [REDACTED] protocol if a crew does not meet quota. And thank YOU for joining the monitor system…”

YOU sat down at a repurposed security desk and turned on all the monitors… and decided to read about the restricted rehired No-Fire crew captain, Intel.

[Intel’s Background

Year 1XXX. An asset named Intel yelled at her team to take off as she fended off the monsters who were trying to board the ship. The captain tossed her a stop sign for her self-defense.

And years pass on the moon… enough time to let her learn about things that no soul can ever dream, Intel learned how to kill anything.

As the years pass intel is eventually saved and rehired soon becoming a captain.

Her crew is named Team No-Fire made up of Intel, Socks, Rookie, and Intern.]

YOU tuck the file away and start monitoring the screens.

‘This has been a cycle for everyone’s lives. Just eat, ship to moons, collect scrap, kill aliens, get home, get paycheck… repeat. Once someone joins, they can't leave till death, age, or too much information. Everyone is an asset. They don't care if you commit crimes or are insane; you are an asset and a tool to the company.’

Year 2387.

Intel parries a Jester’s lunge attack and shoves the jester back and swings her stop sign and digs the sharp metal into the Jester’s neck and exposed spine, blood spewing from the wound which made quite a mess… Intel starts violently stabbing the Jester’s shell with the sign pole and blood starts to pool the hall as the Jester is lifeless on the ground, and Intel wipes blood off her cracked visor, Intel looks at Rookie, “that's the third near death with Jester, Rooks… and it's a monday.” She helped Rookie up.

“Doesn't beat Socks’s however… she has the most encounters, what was it again?” Rookie asked. “98 encounters Rooks, 98, and that was last month.” Intel answered, collecting scrap.

“Still shocks me. Socks lied her way into the job…” Rookie sighs.

“Me too Rooks… me too.” Intel said with a disappointed voice. The two head back to the ship. Upon getting home and taking a break, along with paying respect to fallen people, the crew dumps off the scrap and “sleep”...

In the morning, Intel got up to get the paycheck.

“Here's the paycheck Intel” boss said as his visible clawed hand held out the check to Intel.

“Thanks boss, have a good day” Intel replied, taking the check and reading it over.

Later in the day Intel’s team washed off the blood from a fight that the youngest teammate, Socks, miraculously missed by taking the fire exit, that fight was scary… Intel didn't want Socks to die or get traumatized. Intel looks at her stop sign, the very sign that her old team tossed her as she sacrificed her life to save them… sad that they got fired… Intel yearned for freedom but she knew far too much for her freedom, she knew more than the boss himself…

The sleep pod alarm went off as Intel punched it to silence it and slid out of the pod in her black skinsuit as she grabs the space suit and slips it on, she bangs on the other pods to wake up the rest.

“Wake up bitches, we have work today… no slacking” Intel spoke in a tired voice.

“I’m up, I'm up, capt'n..” Intern kicked open the pod door while the others slowly got up and ready. Intel grabs a helmet and skips breakfast, boarding the ship assigned to her team..

Later, they arrive at a new moon that is worth ten times the normal runs they do. Intel rips the stop sign pole from a baboon hawk head as its thick viscous blood covers the pole.

“Fucking baboon hawks” Intel mutters under her breath…

“These robots are soooo BIG!” Socks squeals excitedly at the sight of giant robots.

“They look dangerous, Socks.” Rookie holds her small shoulder.

They all enter the building and get the scrap, ward off nutcrackers and brackens, and get back to the ship as giants crawled from the earth at the sight of a sunset.

“Time to go?” Intern asked. “Yeah lets get the fuck outta here” Intel answered dropping some scrap, and heading ‘home’.

Intel washes off her stop sign and suit off of any alien blood along with the others. They grab dinner and climb into their pods. Intel stays awake, dreaming her hopeless dream.

End. . . ? no… there is never an ending in the company… It's just a million stories and a million lives lost out in space.

Lore | Lethal Company Wiki | Fandom

#lethal company #the company #we love the company #you are a valuable asset #school assignment #storytime

9 notes · View notes

the-firebird69 · 6 months

Text

Remind me a lot of the blue sapphire and it's coming out and it's in the air it's a lot of it the people who are near the water see blue spots all day long there is a ton of it and they're going to attack the morlok and that's empire proper and they're going to attack them pretty soon

Thor Freya

We're getting ready for it and we're going to fight them and that's what it is and that's a lot of sapphire in the water and your son's okay and we're not doing stuff to him but we do intend to be mean because of what he's doing and he said that he's not really from this group and we're going to pay because we're stupid as well or paying and ruining our own plan in the face of just foreigners and we're not understanding it and we're going to go ahead and drive from underground if you keeps it up it says it's going to drive us on the ground and moments and to not worry about life because ours will be over. Are you sick of us and he's young and we didn't manage him properly and we're going to die and permanently and that were fruitcakes for messing up a simple idea. We understand you've been talking to our leader and we know that he knows our plan and that you do it wasn't a bust until we started our s*** I guess it's the best and he says I guess it is losers you sound like these retards because you're just like them and you're going down you just don't know it yet. And he says that and we ask why we don't know it yet. And I did hear it and yeah we act like them it's going to suck because we see they can't stand them at all it's not why I change the plan we change the plan because he's a rebel and he knows it I guess we're fools says a part of the fleet's going to get wiped out and they'll make a difference and it's going to encourage everybody just like in a rebellion It also says he's not talking to a rebel and that's me God damn fool for saying it and we're verifying and we're going to be crushed like an aunt I understand something that these people have stuff and we overstepped our bounds repetitively they say we're going to repress him we already are that's what we're playing on doing and he says good for you you ruined backsplan the last thing you do against him it's a ruin his plan and ruin his race as you have no plans that's idiocy you f****** moron we're not trying to get blood from a stone or several other idiotic magic tricks so we are bound to tell him that we took over Dave's plan this is so what that's a retard plan he did that cuz he's stupid and squished. We understand something you think that with these people and we're very stupid we think you're stupid for saying stuff to us he's laughing in a way that makes us nervous it was nervous heavens no might start spewing at what you're going to do all day long and expose ourselves. It says the commands real power the stuff our head up our ass where it was a few minutes ago and keep it there. Now I'm starting to say something nobody talks to us that way even now and he said they're going to talk to you a lot that way and you deserve it you're f****** assholes running around pissing off people that can kick your ass and I mean it too we can kick your ass these people might not be able to at all no they can't more all this together can kick your ass into the grave where you're going to stay s***** f****** stupid well he says that I got to tell you something we mistreated him for quite some time now there's no turning back

Macs

You're a bunch of f***** and I have real power and it's immense it is going to be turned on you today and you will shudder

Zues Hera

I'm going to scream it out no we're going to rinse you out of that bunker system and get your information you have these loud loser pieces of s*** that we just heard from the sound just like these people who these people actually sound like that now there's something wrong with you you're massively arrogant as if you have something that we do we're coming in to see what it is and you're going to regret all of that stupid s*** you did to our son for 10 years I mean what a pile of f*** yes you must be proud of doing something dumb.

Thor Freya

We're wondering what the hell you're doing and what's come out of you is with profited from all this hell and stupid s*** just like you see in these videos and comics and cartoons and movies you sound weird like programs you respond the same way every time. I'll tell you what we're going to kick your ass just sit there and make some poor who can be valuable and or kick your ass if you do you're stupid people these people can't help it and you're not giving them a break and you're blaming everything else and I've had enough of it I'm going to teach you a damn lesson and you're going to learn it if you don't you go away and that's not what we say the less you learn to be permanent and in darkness cuz you'll be dead

Sarah carrigan and I'm Hera and I run the character and you can't expect a little Lily to do it she hardly has a brain has been battered and I'm going to destroy you

And your fags. I know how to react you want to put me in a prison if you got me in there what you want who the f*** cares you're all going to get killed I'll be laugh my ass off at you like them with these idiots who did the same thing only moments before you decide to fall into the ass of humanity I mean what is wrong with you stupid wiggers you're so damn dumb but like I give a s*** my people will catch up you're all done

Zues Hera

We didn't get dumb we're going to hold your hostage to grab other people like you and he says

Mac a

so what you'll be dead everybody's competing over it already stupid s***

Zues Hera

You have some really bad math there Max how did you get that you've been sitting there eating it for years cuz you're stupid I can't believe it if you grab them everybody is going to fight yours out here and figure out how to get these stupid assholes you ruined my plan and you ruined my race I hate you you're so stupid if it's actually you saying that send us a letter you pee brain it's so God damn stupid

Mac Daddy

It's not stupid for my perspective and

Macs

he says everybody else is trying your stupid s*** is dying

Zues

We have to respect that comment no we don't we have bunkers everybody else had the got busted I sort of get something it's not really that special that we have and it's not secret it's not that big but it's big enough to destroy everybody if we have a proble

Macs

It was in moments it won't be that's how the battlefield is and you should have recognized it and I don't respect you like I used to you're almost as dumb as these people here

Zues Hera

I sort of get that we're going to be attacked on the ground and we're weak there as most people are it's not going to go well oh well we lost it actually right though we screwed up and we just keep pushing people like nut cases. And it's also with half a brain Jesus Christ it's them

Macs

Hehe

Jen and it means no s*** stupid it really we don't like putting up with you cuz you sound so God damn dumb and it's saying they're going through it and ours are saying they're going through it fixing it and they do this in cycles after a while they'll have it fixed and we'll have a lot more problems but they will be mean to him

Olympus

0 notes

corvidexoskeleton · 2 years

Text

Having a lot of fucked up dreams today

#text post tag #dream posting #dont quite recall the first one. but the 2nd one was like. bloodborne esque. i was with a bunch of other people #most of whom were either teens or little kids. ans we were in some underground area. and we came across some open area #with a large open door on one side. through which we found some giant boss worm poking out of the floor #that was. spewing quite a lot of blood. and we were attacking it but it was continuously regaining hp so we had to really go ham #it was incredibly dangerous and kinda horrifying but i woke up in the middle of it #the next one involved me being trapped in some building with a giant angry person trying to fight me like a fromsoft boss #i tried fighting them for a bit before finding a spot where i could climb up and avoid attacks. after which she stopped attacking to talk #and ask me to come back down and fight. so i said yeah sure and then hit a lever to engage the lift out and left her behind and woke up #the last one was. long and fucked up and idk if i can describe it accurately #but i was on some world. and going about my business. and eventually woke up in some huge dark facility that i was trying to get out of #and found some other people doing the same. but every time i reached a certain point i woke back up where i started and we had to #do it all over again. each time doing the same thing with slight differences. and eventually things changed and i managed to find #some of the people responsible in one of the rooms. and it had turned out that these individual. employees? were tasked with repeatedly #growing and manipulating and releasing clones or copies of myself and the other people in the place #so each time i had woken up and gone thru the place i was just another copy of myself and not the original? but i had my memories #of the previous times and didnt feel different. but the copies were becoming more and more deformed and broken. so were the people doing it #eventually myself and some others managed to get outside. and there was some long sequence where my pov #was waaay out in space observing from the outside as me and the others discovered we were on some huge ship in space #with the planet damgerously near a black hole that was causing the fucked up time shit to happen #and i had to manually move the pov down to find the planet. it was surprisingly cool to see but stressful at the time cause #it was right on the edge of the point of no return. and it turned out the planet was surrounded by this field of smaller bodies #and one of them was what i had been living on instead. so we just kinda. climbed around looking for it #i remember we found stuff that looked familiar that would lead to where we wanted to go but woke up before we got there

3 notes · View notes

violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHTEEN || SAGE

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of blood + mention of killing + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 10 april

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 3.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ next episode : black flash

↳ barista’s notes : let me admit, i did cringe a bit writing this episode for some reason ʕ´•ᴥ•`ʔ but also i have been getting a lot of asks in my inbox asking me if you can add me on genshin impact, and i am not opposed to that! just tell me in advance ╲ʕ·ᴥ·　╲ʔ also volume one of komi can’t communicate came in today! also...the idea i have is coming in soon...so beware.....BUT thank you so much for being so patient with the series and hope you enjoy this special cup of classic black coffee ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

Destructive Curse Spell Number Fifty-Four : Haien : 6:08-6:12 (but like it’s more emphasised to look like this : 1:55-2:05)

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“Where the hell is Fushiguro, right now?” you muttered under your breath as you swiftly ran around the extremely large building you were currently in right now after trying to run away from Kyoto student: Kamo Noritoshi, who seemed too adamant to catch you for some odd reason.

At this current moment in time, you were desperately trying to find your partner after instantly splitting up with him when you both had entered the building causing you to become concerned for the shikigami user since his opponent didn’t seem to be holding back. Even though in the back of your mind, this was your one and only opportunity to go and find the curse you needed to exorcise for your school team to win the first day of the Exchange Event, you knew that the second that Kamo could sense your curse energy leave the premises, he would turn away from his battle and chase you down leaving Fushiguro the role of trying to locate you - which was going to be difficult for him.

Digging into your skirt pocket, you quickly pulled out a fist that had a few pink petals that you had kept after you had used some of them to attack Kamo earlier before gradually transferring some of your cursed energy within them. Slowly, you processed to open your palm letting the same blush coloured petals begin to glide into the air allowing them to travel down the hall you were running through right now causing specks of your cursed energy to be located everywhere they moved to lead your opponents to be somewhat confused about where you really were right now.

ꕥ

“Your team partner seemed to be the smart type,” Kamo mentioned as he turned his head to look behind him since he slowly began to sense the chaotic flow of cursed energy that was beginning to vastly surround the building right now as he was quickly struggling to locate the original source of the cursed energy that he needed to find, which was you.

“She’s always been the smart type, it’s quite scary in my opinion,” Fushiguro commented before raising his tonfas in a defensive position before taking the time given to him to try to locate where you were before giving up the second he tried once his discovered how immense your cursed energy was flowing in the building right now.

‘What the hell? How does she do that?’

Hastily, Fushiguro lunged himself forward as he attempted to attack Kamo leading his opponent to block his hit before suddenly retaliating, only for Fushiguro to defend himself quickly as well. However, it seemed as if both sorcerers were not going to give up as easily as a continuous row of attacks commenced between the two causing them to travel backwards and forwards along the hallway they were in right now.

Suddenly, there was a violent contact with the backs of their wrists leading Kamo to proceed to swiftly turn his body to the side of the opposition as he forcibly thrust his palm out towards the shikigami user causing Fushiguro to use his remaining tonfa to block his attack causing his weapon to snap in half as well as him being pushed back to the other side of the hallway where he first stood.

Staring down at the now tattered wooden weapon, Fushiguro casually threw it to the side leading Kamo to begin to spew out with what was currently running through his mind.

“Shikigami users who can fight this well in close combat are precious, you’ve improved. I’m happy,” Kamo expressed with an impressed tone, leading Fushiguro to unexpectedly cringe at the amount of time you had beaten him up during the past two months of training you both had together.

“What is this sense of fellowship you keep throwing out?” Fushiguro asked in an irritated tone since he wasn’t in the mood to converse about anything to do with the clans at this moment in time.

“I’m sympathising, someday you’ll be one of those supporting the major clans, well maybe the four major clans if the L/N remained after the Heian Era,” Kamo suggested, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to look at the opposition with a deadpan expression painted on his face.

“Gojo doesn’t even support the clans even though she is in the Gojo clan,” Fushiguro reminded Kamo leading to the sorcerer in front of him to shift slightly as if the news to him was surprising at all since it seemed as if you and the strongest sorcerer was ‘close’ despite the joking tension between you both.

“I intend to kill Itadori Yuji,” Kamo suddenly announced, as if that was not known to everyone within the Tokyo team right now.

“On Principal Gakuganji’s orders? So why chase after Gojo?” Fushiguro questioned, as he was still perplexed on why the blood manipulation sorcerer would go after you if his main priority was to eliminate his friend and classmate.

“No, it’s my personal decision. As a member of the Kamo clan, one of the three major clans, I believe that’s the right call,” Kamo answered before going silent, as if he had something in mind currently before he began to voice his opinion once again, “you should be able to understand that, too,”.

“Sorry, but I really don’t get it at all”

Suddenly, Kamo unexpectedly left something lightly slice his cheek slightly causing him to turn to view what was behind him to notice that you were standing there with your armed raised up, leading him to turn back forward to discover your katana piercing the wall that was behind Fushiguro (who looked at you with widened eyes) as your teammate managed to move his head to the side in time before your weapon pierced him instead.

“Oh, I missed,” you commented as you noticed a hint of blood escaping from his small wound, before using your other hand to violently pull the invisible chain of your katana back like a boomerang leading Kamo to swiftly dodge the weapon this time, while being surprised on how you had managed to retrieve your sword back without moving an inch towards it.

“What do you mean? You, me and Fushiguro are the same,” Kamo then declared, causing you to give him an extremely offended look from behind before turning to the side as if to convey to the sorcerer that you weren’t going to listen to him anymore.

“No, we’re not,” Fushiguro replied with an annoyed as well as fed-up expression on his face, as he didn’t expect his opponent to say something as weird as he did right now.

‘He’s spouting some scary stuff all of a sudden...and couldn’t Gojo warn me about this little attack of hers?’

“We are,” Kamo responded, only for Fushiguro to retaliate back leading you to turn your head back to the conversation with a slightly vexed look since you didn’t want such a stupid discussion between two descendants of the three major clans to go on forever like this.

“We’re not, please save those discussions for Maki-san. I no longer have any connection with the Zenin clan,” Fushiguro informed his opponent causing Kamo to turn to you as if you would try to have an understanding of what he was trying to carry out.

“Remember, I don’t actually have any connections to the Gojo clan, I’m not related to them by blood and even if Gojo-sensei adopted me out of the blue,” you explained to Kamo while raising your hands up like you were surrendering when really you were trying to avoid any topic to do with the clans overall.

“Besides, I don’t believe I’m ‘right’. No, sorry. That’s not right, I don’t care if I’m right or wrong,” Fushiguro commented as he looked down towards his raised hand with a softened expression to which caused Kamo to turn back to the shikigami user.

“I just...have faith in my own good conscience, I save people according to my own conscience. If you would reject that, then...we’ll just have to curse each other,” Fushiguro suddenly declared, as a wave of cursed energy began to surround him causing you to sudden be on guard since you didn’t know what your classmate had prepared.

Unexpectedly, a shikigami frog appeared from the side causing you to prepare yourself in an attack stance in case Kamo decided to move towards you, to which he did turn to face you only for the same shikigami to dissolve into the shadow it had come from leading Kamo to open his eyes in shock at the common but smart strategy that the younger sorcerer had come up with.

“This one burns through cursed energy, so I can only use it by itself. I only recently tamed it,” Fushiguro explained before positioning his hands in front of him as he prepared the next shikigami that he was going to summon.

“Max elephant,” the shikigami user announced before the shadow below him began to merge into the shape of a pink elephant leading you to look at the animal with widened eyes as you didn’t expect such a large shikigami to appear right in front of you.

‘What the hell?’ you thought, as the elephant’s cheeks began to swell up while Kamo began to position himself into an attack position. However, it seemed the elephant was going to attack first as a suddenly sprouted out a massive wave of water that could fill up the ocean, causing you to yell out in shock before quickly deciding to stab your katana deeply into the ground to have something to hold on to as Kamo quickly swept into the mass of water leading to the wall behind to break.

“Maybe tell me when you are going to attack, you drag!” you yelled out to your classmate in anger as he rushed next to you causing your partner to look at you weirdly since you were kind of being hypocritical at this current moment in time.

“Just jump across to attack him while I use Nue to corner him!” Fushiguro stated to you in a serious tone, leading you to nod at him before launching yourself forward towards the sorcerer with your katana blade facing the opposite direction it was supposed to since you didn’t want to critically damage your opponent.

Behind you, Fushiguro interlocked his thumbs before fanning out the rest of his finger to represent wings as he swiftly summoned Nue into the battle leading the bird-like creature to strike him with lightning, paralysing Kamo for a second before he suddenly reached into his uniform to slowly reveal a bag of blood to which he then proceeded to throw the object in your direction, causing Nue to bump into you as if to move you away from the item as the blood bag quickly exploded causing the shikigami to be trapped within what seemed to be a rope of blood.

However, you could not let the sudden event faze you as you proceeded to place your foot to the side of the building you were pushed against before thrusting yourself downwards with extreme force to attack Kamo while Fushiguro dashed towards the same opponent to do the same thing.

“I can’t afford to lose!” Kamo screamed as he began to lung forward towards Fushiguro.

Suddenly, a large explosion destructively echoed behind you leading you to reach to the ground with one hand before riskily twisting the same hand to make your body spin before you quickly landed of your feet to the ground causing Fushiguro to look at you with a worried expression before all three of you peered up above to see a vast structure of what seemed to be wood, growing ever to rapidly in the air.

“What is this?” Kamo questioned in a panic before Fushiguro noticed someone running along the tiles rooftop from above.

“Inumaki-senpai?!” Fushguro yelled out in an alarmed tone causing you to look to the side to see your senior classmate running in what seemed to be incomplete adrenaline and fear.

“Run-away!” Inumaki spoke, causing his voice to ring out to everyone as they realised that it was his cursed technique that was occurring right now, causing your bodies to instantly run away from the mass destruction that was occurring right now.

ꕥ

“Huh?” Utahime muttered as she stared at the how red flamed paper talisman while everyone in the room with her peered at them with the same surprised expression.

“The game’s over? And they all burned red?” Utahime questioned as the flames quickly extinguished themselves leading to a large volume of smoke remaining.

“That’s odd, my crows didn’t see anything,” MeiMei commented.

“I’d love to say Great Teacher Gojo’s students exorcised them all, but…” Gojo mentioned as he placed his hands together as if to tell everyone in the room that he was thinking of another solution that might have caused this issue as all the screens in front of them now became static.

“The charms will burn red for unregistered cursed energy,” Principal Yaga informed everyone.

“You think it’s an outsider? Some invader?” Utahime queried, as she turned to her colleague with a concerned expression on her face.

“Does this mean Tengen-sama’s barrier isn’t functioning?” MeiMei then asked, but it wasn’t answered as Principal Gakuganji made a comment.

“Whether it’s an outsider or not, something unexpected is happening all the same,” he mentioned before wondering how this intruder was able to exorcise the semi-first-grade he had planted in order to assassinate Itadori Yuji.

“I’m going to Tengen-sama, Satoru and Principal Gakuganji, please protect the students. Mei, you stay here and identify the locations of the students, stay in constant contact with the other two,” Principal Yaga instructed everyone.

“Fully understood, I look forward to the bonus,” MeiMei mentioned, as she turned her head towards the sorcerer trying to convey that she was willing to follow his instruction with a price to pay.

“Come on, Gramps! Time for a walk! You just finished your lunch, didn’t you? I don’t want my daughter injured with you being slow!” Gojo stated in a light but playful tone as he clapped his hands twice to get the elder’s attention, leading the mentioned sorcerer to become silent and annoyed at the Six-Eye shaman.

“Let’s hurry!” Utahime mentioned as she was becoming worried about the time they were spending on talking in the room they were in rather than going out right now to help the students that were in trouble.

ꕥ

Running forward, you couldn’t help but notice how the branch that was behind you was still extending leading you to quicken your pace as everyone turned to the right, only for the same branch to twist itself in the same directions causing you to come to the conclusion that it was either a skilled curse user or special-grade curse that was the cause of it.

‘Did the mole tell whoever is doing this the location of the event?’

Although, before you could come to another conclusion on who was the mole within the group of Kyoto students, you suddenly heard Fushiguro gasp leading you to snap out of your thinking daze to see a large number of branches breaking through the wooden door that was in front of you leading to a vast volume of debris to rushingly come towards you to which caused you to over your face, allowing the veil that was processing to drip down above you to engulf every student at this current moment in time.

Once the huge mass of debris cleared itself, you noticed the change in colour around you before you turned your head towards the mass of branches in front of you with what seemed to be a curse standing on top of its masterpiece as if to showcase its sudden appearance.

“Why is there a cursed spirit at Jujutsu Tech? Who does this veil belong to?” Kamo asked rapidly, as his head was tilted up to view the intruder in front of him.

“Probably the curse user working with the cursed spirit,” Fushiguro answered, as he too was looking at the curse in front of him leading Kamo to question his knowledge about the situation in hand, while Inumaki let out a cough, causing you to worry about his condition right now since you didn’t have a single clue on how much he had used his voice in the current situation.

“There are a few unregistered special-grade cursed spirits roaming around Japan right now, probably this one was the one that attacked Gojo-sensei before,” you informed the sorcerers in front of you as you slowly began to remember the silly little drawing your adoptive father had given you when you first met with the Kyoto side’s principal.

“Tuna with mayo,” Inumaki commented as he waved a hand to signal a phone leading Fushiguro to agree with his upperclassmen as he proceeded to pull out his phone to contact Gojo, while Kamo commented on how Fushiguro could understand his classmate at all since he was still perplexed on how the Toyko students could even convey with him as well.

‘Why does it only look at me…?’

Yet, it seems as if you weren’t concentrating on their little conversation as you kept an eye on the curse since it seemed to be staring at you for some odd reason, leading you to tightly grip the hilt of your katana, as you now shifted your eyes down to make sure your fellow sorcerers (who were in front of you right now) were safe for the time being.

“That doesn’t matter right now,” Fushiguro mentioned, as he placed his phone to his ear. “Maintain our distance and retreat to Gojo-sensei- '' Fushiguro then explained, but before he could finish his sentence, the curse swiftly moved behind Kamo before proceeding to break Fushiguro’s device from his hand.

“Don’t move!” Inumaki yelled out, leading to the curse freezing in its position before attacking Kamo, leading everyone to keep a distance away from the special-grade curse.

Suddenly, Kamo grabbed another bag of blood that he kept hidden within his uniform before letting it explode once again as he began to maintain control of the red substance. “Blood Manipulation: Slicing Exorcism!” Kamo yelled out before swinging the blood shaped shuriken towards your opponent, only for the curse to be left unscathed leaving the sorcerer to be surprised at the outcome.

Before the curse could even react, Nue suddenly appeared above you before flying downwards towards the special-grade curse with the same purple lightning you have gotten used to before Fushiguro suddenly swept in close to slash the curse with a sword he was hiding within his shadow like you had taught him to within the first week of training. However, it seemed that the katana’s dent that was made only healed as quickly as it appeared causing Fushiguro to tut in complete annoyance.

“.nerdlihc hsiloof, ti potS,”

“Stop it, foolish children,” the curse suddenly said, causing you to grab your head in surprise as you didn’t expect the curse that was in front of you right now to communicate to you at all since you didn’t have a clue on what it was saying but you somehow could understand it.

“I merely wish to protect this planet, that’s all,” the curse then explained, causing you to prepare your cursed energy to flow from your hand to your katana since you now knew that you needed to use your cursed technique to keep the others safe - yet you didn’t know how you could conceal the risk of being discovered.

“It’s a curse spouting nonsense! Don’t listen!” Kamo exclaimed intensely.

“This is on a whole different level than lower-grade cursed spirits,” Fushiguro then commented to Kamo as if it was obvious enough to everyone that was around that opponent at this current moment in time.

“The forests, the oceans, and the sky, all weep so vehemently that I can no longer stand it. It’s impossible to coexist with humans any longer. They know there are some humans who are kind to the planet, but how much does their affection even help?” the curse declared as it raised its head up to the sky as if it was speaking to a whole nation.

‘It somehow established its own language system...and somehow manages to communicate with us…’

“All they desire is time. This planet can shine blue once more, given a bit of time,” the curse spoke again before a sudden twist of branches appeared right behind the curse leading everyone that was in front of it to be on guard as the sudden impact that caused the ground to shake was evident enough on how dangerous this opponent was.

“Gojo Y/N...You can’t run, the veil is designed to keep you trapped within here...We need you for what is going to commence,” the curse suddenly declared causing you to look at it with wide eyes while all the boys turned to you with panicked expression painted on their faces since they were now concerned with your safety more right now than theirs.

‘I don’t know how long this curse spell will last, but I need to make sure it is enough to let everyone run before it can reach them’

“Is that so? Ah..what a drag,” you then asked, as you raised your katana up in the air with one hand as you gradually began to transfer a large amount of cursed energy within the blade. “You see, I began to notice that you seem to be a plant type of curse, I assume...something like wood right?” you rhetorically asked, before using your other hand to cover your mouth with the back of it to conceal the next few words that were going to come out of your mouth.

“Destructive Curse Spell number fifty-four: Haien,” you whispered before a sudden flame began to engulf the metal blade leading the boy to look at your weapon in astonishment at how wild the flames seemed to be due to the amount of cursed energy you had placed within the same blade. “So...why don’t you just burn to death them, would you?” you threatened in a low tone causing the boys to dash behind you before you swung your katana downwards to allow the flames to wildly and uncontrollably burst out in front of the special-grade curse leading to the building behind it to begin slowly extinguishing with the massive flames.

Turning around, you grabbed the fabric of Fushiguro’s and Inuamki’s uniforms (while yelling at Kamo to run) before using your strength as well as a hint of your cursed energy to violently push them forward away from the flames before running towards the same direction with them since this was the perfect opportunity to make a dash for it without any of the boys getting injured or harm in the process.

‘Whoever is responsible for the veil...is going to die..’

709 notes · View notes

bakugohoex · 3 years

Note

congrats on 1k!! may i request angst #10 with levi ackerman? <3

“goodbye my love”

pairing: levi ackerman x gender neutral reader

cw: angst, blood, kissing, death, flashbacks in italics

word count: 1700+

a/n: i feel sad now and i have to write some nsfw next whoops hehe, but hope you guys like this and enjoy the angst i guess

playlist: please check out these songs from @marchsbakery dying in levi’s arms, here’s the spotify link as well, i had no idea she was making it but it coincided with me posting this so of course i had to add the playlist.

summary: in which in your final moments, you relive all your memories with levi until saying your last words to your love

1k event masterlist

↞ back to attack on titan masterlist

The sound of your screams and the tears that flooded from your eyes was the last thing Levi saw when a titan had collided right into you. It had been quick, carefully thought out even, the way the horse was flung to the side and you almost looked ethereal in the sky. But it wasn’t some scene in a play where you would look magnificent, your blood curdling scream was what made everybody turn to look at you.

Turn and see a superior flung to the side, with blood seeping through your clothes. Your stomach churning at the impact, ready to be eaten. Levi saw it all, quickly slashing the neck of a titan before running to the titan, it gripped your body as your legs kicked and your mouth screamed. Tears mixed with blood dampened your skin, this was it for you. This was what everything had come down to, the titans mouth opened wide, you could almost see the other humans in its stomach. You closed your eyes ready for the tear of your legs, but it never came.

Instead the crushing of your bones, the excruciating pain you went through as the titan may have been slashed by Levi, may have begun toppling to the ground. But in its last-ditch attempt to kill you, it squeezed your body, bones crushing and moving out of place, blood trickling down your mouth. If it couldn’t have you neither could Levi.

“Y/n, you…” Levi was about to ask about your condition, but the way you were sprayed onto the palm of the titan, blood coughing from your mouth, bruises forming and pain searing through you. He knew something was wrong, you both were so close to having killed the titans, there had only been a couple left. You could survive this, get the treatment you needed, but as he ran up to you, grabbing your body he could almost feel your pain.

“L…Levi.” You coughed out more blood, he hated seeing you like this, in his arms vulnerable, he was vulnerable. What could he do, other than hold his love.

He shifted your body from the titans palm, you both in a safe area away from the others. “You’re going to be fine.” There wasn’t a question about it, you’d survive, you’d be fit and ready to go on the next expedition, he didn’t care.

“I’m d…dying.” You could barely form words, but if this was your last moments you were glad it was with your love rather than inside a Titans gullet.

Levi watched as tears fell down your numb body, he took a deep breath, he knew it was hard for him to express emotions. Express himself to you, but he looked up in the sky, suppressing any forming tears that could come out, he wanted to be strong for you. “No, yo…you won’t.”

“Tell me our story.” You were going in and out of your own mind, you didn’t want to fight over your death, you wanted to hear your story. The story of Y/n and Levi and how they were supposed to rule the world, fight titans and finally gain the peace that they deserved.

He saw how you shut your eyes just wanting to hear any story, there was no time to help you. He had to give you your last wish, explain your story if it was the last thing he did. “Okay.” He held you in his arms, kissing your forehead with warmth. “We met a couple months after you joined the scouts, you were so confident, remember…

“Is this the famous Captain Levi, I’ve heard so much about.” Levi eyes you up and down at how easily you made yourself at home with him, he raised an eyebrow as he folded his arm.

You stared at the man a smirk as you tilted your head waiting for a reply, “if you’re going to act like you don’t know who I am, then I have no business with you.” He was ready to walk away but you grabbed his arm, making him stop in his tracks. “What brat?”

“So rude, you’re the one who asked for me to join your squad.” Levi was the one to be confused as he looked at you with a puzzled look, “you asked for the girl who got first in the scouts, that’s me.”

“You?” He looked at you with no emotion.

“Don’t need to be so mean, I’m really am quite good.” You spoke highly of yourself, Levi hated those who had no actual experience to back them up.

He tapped his food in thought before replying, “we’ll see, get ready, you’ll be right next to me.”

“Gosh not even an apology.” He glared as you shrugged leaving him to tut in disgust, he’d have to sort that attitude out for sure. You had thought that joining a squad so easily and especially Levi’s squad would be an honour. But after his words it felt more like a low blow at how he didn’t recognise your talent, he looked down at you and you already had a will to prove him wrong.

“…God, you really hated me back then didn’t you.” Levi looked down at your nimble self, blood spewing down your mouth. You nodded trying to put out a laugh but could barely even lift your eyelids back up.

“Te…Tell me more.” Your words were short and breathless, he saw tears continue to trickle down, he didn’t know how long you had left, he witnessed more titans collide to the ground. Even if he had brought you back to the scouts, they couldn’t do anything until all the titans were defeated. You’d be another corpse on the long list, he’d give you these minutes, these moments to die without having a line in your name.

“You pestered me afterwards, on the expedition you showed off all those tricks and killed so many titans, but I never told, but I admired it my love, admired the way you did everything for humanity you didn’t fear death, I fell in love with you because you weren’t selfish like the others…

Levi had asked for you to come by his office after coming back from town, it had been a couple months since the expedition, and you had grown fond of the boy. He may have given you snide remarks, but the small upwards twitch of his mouth proved that he didn’t hate you as much as he let on. You knocked on the wooden door as you heard a come in, easily slipping between the cracks.

You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t become infatuated with the man either, the way he killed titans and swung through the air always felt like your own private show. Even now here, with his watchful eyes at your movement towards his desk, he gave no emotion, but his eyes spoke differently, inviting you in almost. “What can I do for you, Captain?”

“Sit down.” He was stern with his words which you easily followed as you crossed your legs staring at him. “You’ve been working with Mike a lot lately.”

It wasn’t something you had expected, and you almost laughed at his accusations, “what about it?”

“I prefer my squad to work together rather than separately.” His sentence was filled with mystery as if he wanted to say more.

You felt confident in what you believed him to be saying, it had been Hanje who planted the idea that Levi preferred you more than he did other humans. But preferred was a stretch of the word that you had thought of, could he possibly like you, the way you liked him. “Captain, this isn’t about working together is it, are you jealous?”

“No.” He was blunt about it but refused to meet your gaze, you stood up moving closer to his seat, you leaned against his desk, eyes on his form as he looked at the papers in front. Rather than the side where your watchful eyes were.

“You don’t need to lie to me Levi, but if you really don’t, I was just about to go spend some time with Mik…” Levi grabbed your wrists stopping your words, he finally looked up at you. He moved his chair to be in front of you, his body between your legs, before grabbing your jaw.

“You leave this room and I’ll make you regret it.” Your chest felt heavy as you leant down to meet his mouth, his mouth feeling warm against your own as you both moved in sync with one another.

“…I fell in for you from that moment Y/n.” He looked back down at you, your body feeling heavy on his thighs.

You looked up at him, finally being able to open your eyes as you looked at him wanting to speak and tell him how much you loved him. “I…I…” You began coughing again, worry radiating off of Levi, “you told me…on our first date that we’d be toge…together forever.”

“We will.” Levi lied to make himself feel better, to make himself believe that this was all a dream. He had lost too many people, his mother, his friends and comrades he couldn’t, he couldn’t lose his one love. The one person he had sworn to protect, to save from this disgusting world.

“For…forever wasn’t long enough...” You whispered feeling empty inside, tears soared out as you looked through the dampness right up at Levi. He looked down and for the first time you witnessed the tears, how he tried to hide them with an emotionless face. But they were there.

He brought his head down to meet your own, forehead resting against your own, “we’ll get our happiness next time…I promise my love.”

You felt his tears fall onto your own skin, feeling your body begin to shut down, your eyes feeling heavy as Levi bent down to your lips to give you one last kiss. To give himself one last kiss, you were always going to be it for him, nobody would ever replace you.

And as he finally parted from your damp lips he heard the last words, he had never wanted to hear, never wanted to imagine coming from your lips. Your arm falling to the grass, body heavy and eyes shut as you whispered the words that brought about the end, “goodbye my love.”

Tears pricked down Levi’s face; he hadn’t expected it from himself. He thought he could stay emotionless but as he held your corpse in his arms, bringing you closer to his body, he remembered every second he had spent with you, loving you and how he was never going to get that ever again.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

if you guys want to be a part of a tag list, just reply to any post and i’ll add you xx

@samusimp @alaina-rose13 @crispychannie @underratedmage @jennammaee @cathy8taffy @sugacious @moonlightaangel @kat-sukis-hoe @effmigentlywithachainsaw @swankiifiied @maat-the-prescriptive @missmultifangirl @tvwhoresblog @kuroos-world @levisfilm @katsuhera @answer-the-sirens @animexholic @wapbenders @the-shota-king-masayuki @bakugousmrs @crystal-lilac @dai-tsukki-desu @fandomsinthegalaxies @crimsonbows-and-arrows @admin-in-residence @otterlockholmes @gabrann @zlatanakermann @c0urtn3y @bakuhoesworld

385 notes · View notes

teklarn · 3 years

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: a lil bit angsty

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - -

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought.

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back.

jealousy panged in his chest.

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there.

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter?

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help.

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first.

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it.

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something?

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time.

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one.

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet.

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp.

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child.

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it.

perhaps you were being cocky.

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him.

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted.

it was interesting for another reason.

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest.

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown.

“don’t get distracted.”

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down.

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight.

he panted atop you, hands tightening.

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima.

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in.

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets.

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed.

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck.

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?”

“you heard me.”

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more.

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood.

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.”

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?”

“you’re strong, damn idiot.”

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.”

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight.

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway.

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered.

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him.

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?”

“you’re creepy as shit.”

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-”

“while you peeped in on y/n?”

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.”

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man.

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.”

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.”

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.”

“fine?”

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?”

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped.

“you train with me.”

“it’s an hour before curfew.”

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked.

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle.

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass.

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays.

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend.

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff.

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one.

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly.

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched.

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission.

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack.

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side.

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars.

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright.

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?”

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to.

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.”

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue.

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help.

“we should head back before this gets any worse.”

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out.

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself.

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt.

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat.

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?”

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.”

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you.

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?”

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed.

“dude, i’m really sorry—”

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.”

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.”

“your nose is broken,” you said gently.

“so? can’t you fix it?”

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?”

“can you or can you not?”

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―”

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.”

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm.

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though.

144 notes · View notes

topaziraphale · 3 years

Note

Love to imagine that there were a few close calls with Gabriel where aziraphale had to pretend to smite crowley, which involved a lot of aziraphale pinning him down and a lot of sword bearing. Crowley very quickly finds out he has one hell of a kink ;)

“Of course I’m letting you win,” Crowley answers, banishing the dirt and wrinkles from both his and Aziraphale’s clothes with a snap of his fingers. Then, on a whim, he clears off any lingering sweat beading on his skin. He can’t do anything about the flush on his face and neck, or the way his legs are still wobbling. “Can’t have you losing in front of your own lot, can we? They might try and help you out, y’know. Might be worse for me in the long run, ‘s only selfish.”

Aziraphale’s frown deepens at the implication. “Oh. I assume this means I’ll have to let you overtake me when your people show up, then?”

“Er, you won’t. Have to. Do that, I mean.” Crowley stammers. Aziraphale raises his eyebrows. “They won’t crawl all the way up here to talk to me,” he elaborates, “they’ve got the radio and telly for that.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale says again, fumbling with the lowest button on his waistcoat for a moment. “Yes, quite right.” He smiles nervously. “Erm...” Crowley pretends he doesn’t notice the blush subtly rising on Aziraphale’s cheeks and the tips of his ears. “Well, knowing that, I must say that is very—”

“—no—” Crowley groans in annoyance, knowing exactly where that sentence is going, throwing his head back and grimacing.

“—kind of you to do, to let me win even though it’s all a ruse,” Aziraphale continues, his smile changing from nervous to irritatingly fond and knowing. “Rather considerate.”

“Fantastic,” Crowley grumbles, his face burning brighter for a different reason now. “Really made my day with that one, you did.”

In the short silence that follows, Crowley sniffs and looks down at his shoes, pretending to inspect them for any clumps of dirt. He realizes, belatedly, that neither of them cared to fix the messy state of the greenery and soil beneath them. It clashes with the rest of the neat, freshly mown blades of grass in this conveniently empty section of the park — a stark reminder of what just happened. The sight of it makes Crowley shiver. Suddenly his resolve to stay cool and collected vanishes into thin air. He hastily looks back up to find Aziraphale fiddling with the chain of his pocket watch, and he gulps.

“Er,” he starts awkwardly, nearly freezing when Aziraphale makes eye contact with him. “Right, anyway, I just remembered I have something to do. It’s important. I’ll pick you up later, shall I?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. He spins on his heel, turning his back on Aziraphale and shoving his hands in his pockets, making his smoothest attempt at nonchalance as he starts walking away. “I’ll meet you in the front of the bookshop.”

“What? Wait,” Aziraphale calls. “You’re leaving already?”

Crowley stops in his tracks, shock still, his breath hitching in his chest. He couldn’t have been found out. He wasn’t that loud, was he? Aziraphale doesn’t know, can’t know. If he knew…

“Won’t be long,” says Crowley, gritting his teeth, hoping he doesn’t have to outright lie, hoping Aziraphale doesn’t push. “An hour, at most. We won’t miss our reservation.”

“I… er, very well,” Aziraphale eventually says, sounding confused and a little hurt. “But, before you go, I need to ask you about… just now.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and Crowley holds his breath, chills cold as ice sliding from the back of his neck down along the knobs of his spine as fear builds in his lower gut. When Aziraphale speaks up again, his voice is slightly deeper than normal.

“I hurt you this time, didn’t I?”

Crowley blesses under his breath. It takes all he has in him not to react outwardly, to lose his carefully constructed neutrality right then and there. Instantly, his mind plays back the stunt Aziraphale pulled only minutes ago.

It’s practically routine for them at this point, really; it’s a way for them to get out of a damning situation in a pinch. If someone from work unexpectedly shows up, they pretend to be mortal enemies, doing what mortal enemies are obliged to do should they ever cross paths: fighting to the death. (Discorporation, in these cases — and even then, they only need to make the viewer think that a discorporation has taken place, should it ever go that far.) It’ll be seen as two adversaries busy with work, and whoever it was that checked in will usually leave within a minute or two to let them get back to it.

They were taking a leisurely walk and having a (slightly heated, in the angel’s case) conversation about some of the menu changes at the Criterion, when Aziraphale suddenly kicked Crowley’s feet out from under him, pinning him face-down into the ground with his knee pressed onto his back. He had yanked his hair, forcing his head up, and swiftly brought the edge of a sword — having manifested the weapon from thin air — onto Crowley’s exposed neck. Crowley was hard in his trousers before he even realized what was happening, before he could even guess that Gabriel or any other one of those wankers was probably nearby, watching, and that Aziraphale was faking the attack like he had done many times before to keep them both safe.

But for a moment, Crowley didn’t know that.

As Crowley had grabbed fistfuls of dirt and grass and writhed under the perfect weight of Aziraphale’s body, he had thought it was real, and that Aziraphale really was going to smite him this time, and that he was truly at his mercy, finally getting everything he wanted. It was too much, the ringing in his head from falling to the ground, the pain in his spine, the white-hot burn in his scalp. Crowley couldn’t move and the sword was cold and sharp on the delicate skin of his neck and Aziraphale put his lips to his ear to whisper something and it sounded harsh and commanding and he whimpered—

“Crowley?”

Crowley blinks back to himself, his eyes wide behind dark lenses. He hears Aziraphale’s footsteps approaching him, the soft crunching of the grass beneath two Oxfords deafening amongst the low rumble of blood rushing through his ears.

“No,” he blurts out, his voice thin. “I’m fine, it’s fine.”

The footsteps stop. His entire body is trembling now, every inch of skin charged as if with electricity, surely to go off at the slightest touch. He clears his throat, vaguely wondering how much of a disaster it would be if he had to look Aziraphale in the face during all of this.

“I’m fine,” he repeats in a more natural tone. “Don’t make a fuss over it, you didn’t hurt me.” You did. “Same as always, nothing different about it this time.” Hurt me again. And again and again, until my throat is raw from screaming, until my face is wet with tears. Make me beg for it.

“It most certainly was not the same, you had no idea I was even going to attack you,” Aziraphale comments, sounding just this side of stern. Crowley’s stomach curls with something too close to pleasure from the tone of voice. Aziraphale sighs. “Are you quite sure I did not hurt you by accident?” he asks gently, because it’s just like him to have concern for Crowley’s well-being, even at the worst possible times. He takes one step closer, the space separating their bodies no bigger than an arm’s-length. Crowley can feel his stare burning right through his soul, can almost feel the heat radiating from his body. “I only ask because, ah, when you cried out, just then, you seemed…”

Alarms blare in Crowley’s racing mind.

Cried out, cried out.

Aziraphale did hear him.

And now he’s asking about it.

Crowley goes from half-hard to fully erect so quickly that it makes him dizzy, his dick throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Aziraphale only has to take a couple steps toward him and circle around to his front, and then he’ll have full view of the state Crowley is in. Then Crowley would have to explain himself, and he would be mortified, he’d be so humiliated, and the fear of it only makes his cock harder. There’s just not enough self-preservation in his current, lust-crazed state of mind to not want anything more than that.

“— truly distressed,” Aziraphale continues, pronouncing the words with the same caution one would use when walking on a tightrope. Crowley hears the faintest of wavers in his voice only because he’s known the bastard for too long. “I was afraid I used too much force this time.”

You could have used more. Used all of it. Put me in my place. Burned me with your light until I’m nothing, until I’m dust at your feet. Please, angel…

Crowley holds his breath again, the muscles in his neck tightening and his jaw aching with the effort it takes to kill the moan forcing its way up into his throat. His legs feel like jelly. The temptation to fall on his knees and admit it is palpable. He might as well come clean. Even if nothing happens now, Aziraphale will bring it up again later. That’s just how he is. Better to get it over with…

“No,” he croaks. He’s blushing so hard that the skin on his face and scalp itches furiously. “I wasn’t, I didn’t…”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

“Truly?”

“For Heaven’s sake, Aziraphale, I told you I’m alright,” Crowley snaps. More than alright. Crowley knows he’s going to revel in the ache for days, but he also knows, acutely, that he’s only jeopardizing himself more the longer he stays in this blasted park. He’s sure he wouldn’t be able to survive another round of questions; he can already feel his admittedly weak resolve slipping in the face of those warm, seaglass eyes, beckoning him to spill his guts and spew the awful, contemptible fantasies of being taken right there in the dirt, like he deserves, with a sword trained on his back and the angel’s name in his mouth. The only thing keeping him from doing it is his knowing how said angel would react — with an upturned nose and a look of disgust only reserved for the lowest of scum. He can’t do that to him, can’t be that to him.

“Oh, right then, that’s good,” Aziraphale’s voice suddenly pulls him out of his reverie, sounding disappointed, “that’s a relief.”

Crowley then hears the telltale rustle of clothes as Aziraphale fidgets, probably adjusting his waistcoat, before he calls out, “Well then, don’t let me keep you, dear fellow. Do mind how you go.”

“Same to you,” he says back, feeling moderately guilty.

He snaps his fingers, bringing himself to his flat. He lands on his back on his luxurious bed. The cool satin sheets do nothing to calm his rapid pulse or the lick of shame that follows as he claws at his belt, the zip’s teeth not daring to catch as he shoves his trousers down and takes himself in hand. The guilt instantly melts away, but the shame stays, however it only proves to spur him on even more.

Aziraphale will forgive him by the time they meet back up for dinner.

------------------

((I originally meant to use a couple lines of dialogue as an answer to this ask but then it turned into a small little fic, thingy, yeah. Huge thanks to @divinehedonism for beta reading this for me!!))

#SURPRISE I BET YOU THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME #hiiiiii anon your ask has been in my drafts for months but i never forgot about you!!!! i was just nervous to post a little fic lol!#good omens nsft #nsft #bottom crowley #top aziraphale #derpy answers #derpy writes #high chance of me posting this on ao3 later #it literally took me 3 months building up courage to post this now i see why a/c took 6k years to hold hands lol #minors dni #don't think in my absence i won't check new followers i got for ages in bios #if ur a minor here might as well leave and save me the trouble of blocking you if you'd be so kind

246 notes · View notes

angel-tries-to-write · 3 years

Text

Life is not a movie

Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan Rating: Teen and up Pairing: Eren Jäger x Mikasa Ackerman, Armin Arlert x Annie Leonhart Word count: 1024 Genre: hurt/comfort

Actors AU. That’s what actually happened in season 4 after table scene. It’s canon, Yams told me that.

“I've always hated you” Eren spewed out, looking at Mikasa with disgust. Hot tears rushed to her eyes and heart pounded in her chest, breaking because of his words. Suddenly Armin jumped up, but before he did anything, Mikasa stopped him. Eren kept saying something else, but she wasn't really paying attention. Armin jumped up again and attacked his best friend, this time hitting him successfully. Unfortunately his opponent was faster and stronger, so Armin quickly ended up beaten up. Mikasa quietly tried to stop Eren, then approached Armin to help him get up.

“CUT!” they suddenly hear the director yell. “Okay, you did great, but let's do it once again, just to be safe!” he announced. Eren reached for his best friend and helped him stand up.

“You were amazing, man” he praised Armin, smiling widely. “You okay?”

“Yeah. But I think you hit me accidentally” he answered, wiping his face and making big eyes at the sight of blood on his fingers.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.”

“I know. But I must admit, you were pretty convincing. I almost believed you hate us” Armin smiled, trying to stop the bleeding. Suddenly someone put a wet towel on his face.

“This will help. You okay?” Annie asked, looking at him with concern. She didn't have to be there, her scenes were already filmed and the rest of them was going to be set in the second part of this season, but she was providing emotional support for her boyfriend. Just like Sasha was often around, unable to leave Connie for long, and occasionally Marco was visiting, despite being dead for three seasons.

“I'll be fine, thanks, babe” Armin smiled, wiping his hands on the towel. “How did we do?”

“That was scary. And extremely realistic, I really thought Eren was going to kill you” she answered.

“Oh, come on, I'm not that bad. Besides my character is a little lost, but Armin's character is still his best friend, just like Armin is mine” Eren protested. “I wouldn't hurt my man.”

“Oh, I know that, but it only proves how on point your acting was, if even I was nearly convinced you were his enemy” Annie pointed out.

“Thank you. I'm trying my best” Eren smiled. Then he noticed someone was missing. “Where's Mikasa?” he asked, looking around.

“I think I've seen her going to her dressing room” one of prop girls told him.

“Thanks” he replied and rushed there. They had to take a little break anyway, before the crew make the set ready for another take. And before Armin's nose stops bleeding. He could check up on his girlfriend as well. “Mikasa?” he knocked on the door, which weren't closed, so it opened when he touched it. Inside he could see Mikasa, sitting in front of the mirror, with her face in her hands. “Mikasa?” he repeated, carefully walking inside and closing the door behind him. He could see her shaking with sobs. They definitely didn't need audience while handling this situation. “Hey, what happened?” he asked softly, approaching her.

“Nothing. I'm fine” she sobbed, trying to wipe her tears.

“You're not fine. Tell me what happened” he asked gently, then put his hand on her cheek and wiped some tears with his thumb.

“It's nothing. I'm just being stupid” she wasn't looking at him, too ashamed of her behavior, or something else he had no idea about.

“You're not stupid. You're incredibly smart” he assured her, then leaned down and kissed her head. She snaked her arms around his waist and pressed her face to his chest, clearly needing his closeness. “Tell me what's wrong, baby” he asked gently, wrapping his arms around her and caressing her hair.

“I'm sorry I just... That's so stupid, but I really thought you hate me” she confessed, embarrassed. “I know it's just your line, and I know that your character doesn't mean it actually, but seeing you deliver this line... No wonder we needed only one shot, it was impressive. But it made me feel terrible” she explained, burying her face in his shirt.

“Mikasa... That's not stupid, baby. Actually that makes me quite flattered, that my acting skills are so good, that even you have doubts about my feelings” he smiled affectionately. “But I promise, our characters might not be in the best terms recently, but it doesn't change anything between us.”

“I know, but... Ugh, I feel so dumb for thinking that” she said, embarrassed of her thoughts and feelings. Suddenly Eren broke their hug, slightly pushed her away so she leaned back on the chair, then lifted her chin and leaned down to kiss her hard. He could taste salt of tears on her lips, but he didn't care at all. He had to make sure she would feel better.

“I love you, Mikasa” he stated firmly, when they finally broke the kiss. “I love you so much. Don't you ever forget that.”

“I love you too” she smiled softly. “But it was difficult to hear these lines” she admitted with a sigh.

“It was difficult to say them too. I put a lot of effort to not ruin the scene and not try to cheer you up” he confessed. “I can't calmly watch you cry. But that's our job, however, I'll always make sure you are okay, no matter what else would I have to do” he promised.

“I'm fine now. Let's go and do it again” she stood up and kissed him softly, then hugged him one more time. “Thank you, Eren. For being there for me.”

“I'll be there any time you need me” he hugged her back and kissed her hair. They stood like that for a while, until they heard a knock on the door.

“Guys! Are you there?” they heard Annie's voice. Mikasa let go of her boyfriend, then held his hand and opened the door.

“We're coming” she smiled softly and left the room, pulling Eren behind her.

“Good, the scene is about to get started” Annie said, leading them back on set. “Oh, and Eren, try to not hit Armin again.”

“Sure...”

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #my fic #eremika #aruani #eren jäger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #annie leonhart

25 notes · View notes

oven-thermometer · 3 years

Text

Darksiders week Day II

Day 2: Shipping - Any rating (so long as nsfw works are tagged properly!) and any trope, so long as it involves shipping. Please note that a ship does not have to be canon (i.e. presented as a ship in the existing material) to count–in some other reality, they could have loved each other. Also, I hear human survivors have been reported by the Hellguard, so feel free to bring your OCs as well!

This is my first time writing anything with an OC, I'm happy it was Aurora because I love her so much. Also I know it's day 3 today but I didn't get to post yesterday and my work gave me the day off??? For some reason?? So I get to post today :>

What Aurora looks like and her different forms It helps to just check this post out to make the story easier to read

Warnings: blood, fighting, angst, lying, description of bad wounds, animal harm (by demons) and death.

The large golden doors swung open violently, slamming into the adjacent walls. Darkness in the hallway was chased away by the piercing light from Hell’s eternal fires raging across it’s plains. Taking her hands off from the doors, her hung head lifted up slowly. Her eyes caught the large throne situated at the end of the hallway, it’s impending presence making her swallow the invisible lump in her throat. ‘At least he’s not here.’ She thought, making her way down the dimly lit hallway, the candles burning to life as she walked past.

“Aurora.” her name was called in a monotone voice. Turning her head, she located the voice at one of the side doors next to the throne. Emerging from said door, was her mother. The woman that constructed her and made her into what she was today. She held neither malice nor love towards her. She had been made into a monster but she never knew the proper way to be treated by someone you were made by so she really had no point of reference. Coming out of her musings she walked further towards the woman. “Lilith.” she said, nodding her head in greeting.

Lilith sauntered closer, stopping in front of the taller creature. Aurora shifted her legs, waiting for her to speak. Lilith hummed and narrowed her eyes before quickly turning around. “You have a new mission. This one pertains quite importantly to the grand plan Samael and I have,” turning half her body to look over her shoulder she made clear eye contact with Aurora, “success is the only outcome that will be accepted. Are we clear?”

Lilith punctuated her last words by closing her fists, reminding Aurora of he last time she hobbled back into Samael’s castle with defeat written all over her wounded body. Shuddering slightly at the thought, she nodded. Lilith turned fully towards the throne again and stepped towards it. Picking up a small scroll of decaying paper from the stone and opening it, she spoke again, “You are to travel to Earth.”

Aurora looked up, her long ears perking up at the name, “Earth? Why there?”

Lilith slid her tail along the floor, signifying her annoyance at the question. Aurora looked back down and mumbled an apology. Lilith drew her shoulders back and closed the scroll once again, “The apocalypse will soon be triggered, Earth will become the battleground for monumental forces. You will travel there and, using your human-form, you will find the horseman that will be sent to find the cause of the trigger.”

Aurora shifted on her legs again, she hated being in her human form. It meant she had to lie. She could deal with the killing and the war but lying and infiltrating made her stomach turn. Deceit was what came with that form.

Pushing her feelings down, she held one of her hands out for the scroll Lilith was holding. Lilith left it in her outstretched hand, making her way back to the side door before adding, “You must seduce him Aurora. You’ve done this kind of thing before and I have complete faith you won’t disappoint me.”

Aurora nodded again, her eyes scanning the contents of the page for more details. “Oh and Aurora, bring him to that location before the third torch atop of this castle is blown out by the dry winds.”

Blood curdling screams replaced the quiet alleyways with sheer terror. Stepping out of the void portal Aurora took cautious steps further out of the alleyway – more screams making her turn her head towards the impeding invasion of demons from a large tear in the Earth. Large orange lava spewed from the enormous crack as demons screeched and hollered from rooftops and street lamps.

Aurora sneered from her place in the alleyway, she may be part demon but this was never who she was. Innocent humans were being torn apart right in front of her and all she could do was look on for the being she was meant to trick into her plans. She had never met any of the Nephelim, even before their demise due to four of their own. Everyone knew the story, even her. She felt sorry for the remaining four, they had been forced to murder their entire family and proceeded to work for the very beasts who bargained with their lives. Lilith also spoke of them often, cursing the four mostly. That was why Aurora was made, so that one day the spawn of angel and demon might continue.

Shaking her head, she returned to her search. Spotting another large tear and a large trail of fire and smoke further into the streets of the city she identified the crash site of the warrior. She swiftly brushed off her clothes, stopping midway as she realized she had to look dirty and beaten for him to take pity on her. Sighing, she threw her head back in sarcastic amusement.

Aurora had made her way from the alleyway towards a building used as a parking lot across the road. Smears of blood and bodily fluid littered the floor, the faint noise of muffled grunts off to one corner caught her attention. A man, a human, was being pinned to the wall as a pack of small demons overpowered him and took their opportunity to rip the scared features from his face. As the life left his eyes and his last whine of pain escaped, his head lolled forwards. Stopping in her tracks, Aurora’s face held no emotion. Seeing this as her opportunity to gain the injuries she required, she started attracting the group over from their feast. She stomped her feet and shouted at them to gain their attention. “Hey you stupid mongrels,” she put her hands on her hips and gave a low whistle, “how’s the invasion going dimwits?”

The mindless demons quirked their heads at her - they could smell that she wasn’t human, but she didn’t look supernatural. Snapping out of their daze, as if acting with a hive mind, they snarled and charged violently forwards towards her. Aurora lifted her forearms to act as guards, awaiting the attack.

Her breath felt like it was made of lead. Her arms and legs covered in bruises, welts and scratches. The vicious pain of her combined wounds made her head dizzy as she leaned against one of the concrete walls. Slouching forward she slid down slowly to sit down on the cold floor. Her mind was blank. Only focusing on keeping her healing magic at bay so as not to erase the work the now squashed demons did. As soon as she was content with how much damage they did, Aurora began her offense. Making quick work of them, she needed a moment before venturing out of the building again. She wiped the blood pooling on her chin, the viscous material flowing freely from her nose and mouth due to broken cartilage and cracked teeth.

A small scratching noise caught her attention, lifting her head she looked towards the cars sitting in their lots. It was coming from there, she was sure. It only got louder, a pitiful whining shortly accompanying it. Was it…another human? The demons would’ve killed them before though, or were they sparing them to witness the torture? If it was a person she would need to make sure they won’t get out of this alive: they could’ve seen her use her powers after all.

She stalked closer to the collection of crashed and parked cars, broken glass and more blood breaking beneath her boots. The whining and scratching continued to increase in volume, making her cock her head to the side in confusion. A thin tarp laden with dust and dirt covered the small opening between two cars that had evidently been in a bad crash. Aurora could now also hear deep and scratchy breathing – similar to her own. The whining seemed one akin to an animal, this only deepened her confusion. Lifting the tarp she readied an attack spell in her flesh hand, but what met her eyes gave her pause. A large, white hound met her vision. It’s thick fur stained with it’s own blood. It was slightly smaller than the Hell Hounds that she was used to. Awkwardly shifting again, she pulled more of the material away and threw it behind her. The dog’s labored breathing and flowing wounds made her heart ache – humans had minds, and some of them were vile beings. But, animals and beasts with no sentient choices only wanted peace. They never deserved whatever terrible treatment they got – quickly realizing Aurora made her think of her own situation, she shook her head and lowered herself to her knees. Banishing the attack spell she replaced it with her healing magic.

As she healed the creature she thought to herself, ‘Was that man your owner?’ She didn’t dwell on that thought either.

It’s breathing improved and it’s gashes closed, but it remained unconscious out of exhaustion after her magic had stopped. Sighing, Aurora questioned why she even did this. It was going to get found again. It may be almost as big as a Hell Hound, but it clearly couldn’t fight as well.

Again, another noise drew her attention away from the situation. A large crash near the entrance to the building made her quickly clamber to her feet. ‘More demons??’ she thought, exasperated. But, it was no demon. In fact, it was the one being she needed on this hellish mission.

War’s voice boomed, calling after the pathetic demons that had run from their battle. “Scum!” he shouted, “I saw you running in here with your tail between your legs, come out for a merciful decimation!” ‘Geez, he isn’t one for pleasantries, huh?’ Aurora thought to herself. Swiftly slipping into her role, she began limping her way away from the cars – although the limp wasn’t fake.

Accidentally tripping on a large piece of fallen concrete, her hands automatically came up to cushion her fall. Her metal limb creating a sharp noise against the floor caused her to cringe.

Stopping his intimidating rant, War looked over to the small human. His stony features showed no shock or confusion of any kind. Not any emotion at all. Aurora gave a small grunt, quickly getting to her knees before her eyes landed on the impressive height of War. Scrambling backwards, her face showed a feeling of utter fear. Her mouth hung open as she raised an arm in mock defense, her bionic arm. War’s eyes flashed a light of pity before turning back to their normal cloudy blue. “P-Please..Don’t - hurt me.” Aurora kept her widened eyes on him, showing nothing but the want to live another minute.

War turned fully to her form, acknowledging her wounds, her tired eyes and how she didn’t even seem to have the strength to stand. Forgetting the beasts he was chasing, he wracked his brain for what to do. He had a mission, a purpose – but this, thing, looked so helpless and in desperate need of help. Walking the short distance towards her, he took a healing potion out of his supply belt and set it down in front of her. “Use it.” Is all he said before leaving the building, and Aurora. Rearing her head back in confusion, she lowered her arm and tsked in annoyance. Grabbing the large container of green liquid, she ran as fast as her bleeding legs could take her after the Nephilim. He wasn’t going particularly fast, his normal walking pace, but to Aurora’s state it was difficult to catch up with.

“Wait!” she called out after him. War stopped and looked back at her over his shoulder. Huffing, Aurora got closer and looked up to him, “Are you just gonna leave me here?!”

It was War’s turn to be confused, not visibly though, “Excuse me?” Motioning to her wounds as she spoke, Aurora replied, “Well I am arguably not in the best of states and seeing as you obviously don’t want to kill me, could you at least escort me to a safe place?”

Aurora’s heartbeat roared in her ears, she couldn’t believe she was talking this way to a Horseman. But she needed some way of being near him. War grunted, turning his head back to look onward, “Move quickly, I will take you to the angels.”

Smiling to herself, Aurora followed closely behind as he made his way towards a horde of angels a few blocks away.

#darksiders #darksiders war #darksiders oc #darksiders fanfiction #fanfiction #darksiders x oc #writing #darksiders week 2021 #DarksidersWeek2021

20 notes · View notes

harryissuchalittleshit · 3 years

Note

Molly and Arthur's relationship with their children and significant others. Ik Molly didn't like fluer at first and I get the feeling she's one of THOSE mother-in law's even though I love her to deatg

Bill&Fleur:

Bill is the oldest

The younger four saw him almost as another parent, being so much older and often having been asked to babysit them

So both Molly and Arthur have a soft spot for him

They remember the two years that was just the three of them

As we know Bill started to rebel once he was out of school and went to Egypt

He made a strong stance on it when he returned to England during the war and even after

Okay, so Fleur and Molly did have a strain relationship, but after Bill was attacked, a respect was formed between Fleur and Molly

You can’t see someone you love and care for almost die and not bond

Arthur has never had a problem with Fleur and recognizes that she is a seriously gifted witch

And Fleur has a great relationship with him

Molly and Fleur get along a lot better once Victoire is born

And Molly and Arthur help them get the hang of parenting their rebellious children when they’re older

They have a LOT of experience in that field

Charlie:

Charlie is a mama’s boy

He gets along well with his parents, but living so far away is hard on all of them

I like to think that Charlie starts making sure to come home at least every other summer and every Christmas to stay with Molly and Arthur and spend the summer with all of his nieces and nephews

He spends a lot of time writing letters to home

When Molly and Arthur’s health start to fail he moves home permanently to take care of them

He’s a good son to them, but the distance is what hurts their relationship

Percy&Audrey:

Percy is a definite mama’s boy

More so than Charlie

If he would’ve had to see Molly at the ministry instead of Arthur he would’ve returned home a lot sooner

His relationship with the family as a whole is very difficult after the war, but between Molly, Charlie, and George everyone else accepts him eventually (except Bill, big thoughts on that)

Audrey is the perfect daughter in-law

Molly adored her the second she met her and Arthur knew her from the ministry before she and Percy start dating

She knits with Molly while pregnant with her daughters

She is also Muggleborn, so she indulges Arthur’s curiosity a lot

They remind her of her own parents and the simple life she had before she went to Hogwarts

All in all, Audrey is the reason Percy fits in with his family so well after the war

George&Angelina:

It’s hard after the war

George eventually moves out of the Burrow and back to the flat over the shop

He puts a show on for a long time, but then he and Angelina reconnect

It’s not a “she fixed him” story, it’s a “we were both hurting and misery loves company, but now we feel better” story

She brings George back to them and they are forever grateful to Angelina

George becomes part of the family again and he becomes really close to Arthur

But he only talks about Fred to Molly, and she starts sharing stories about her own brothers

Angelina and George have the first family wedding after the war and they make it a very joyous event

It’s exactly three days after Molly and Arthur’s wedding anniversary

Angelina is also a half-blood and answers a lot of Arthur’s questions about Muggle medical equipment and practices

Angelina is Arthur’s favorite of his in-laws

Ron&Hermione:

Ron is Arthur’s son

Out of all their children, Ron is Arthur’s kid, the one that can be depended on to want to spend time with dad ALL the time

He is the kid that gets dragged to the ministry all the time, as he can be expected to behave and not wander off (at least not too far)

But he is also Molly’s kitchen buddy

Pretty much when he was little, he would hide in there when Fred and George hanged up on him, and molly gave him a bit of work

He asks his parents if it would be a good idea to propose, as he values their opinion on the matter

Molly and Arthur love Hermione so they push Ron to propose and make her an official part of the family

Things do fall apart a little after Rose is born and Hermione goes back to work and Ron steps back and becomes a mostly stay-at-home dad

But things are patched up by the time Hugo is born

Harry&Ginny:

The baby girl

Ginny gets away with a lot when she’s little

She grows closer to her parents while in hiding

She sees them age so much during that time and after the war

She writes home every week of her seventh year, mostly to Arthur

Ginny has never been “girly” enough for Molly, but after the war that falls away

They all realize that it’s time to let go of perceptions and to just love one another for who they are

Molly is the only one to go to Ginny’s very first match with the Harpies

She’s benched the whole game, but Molly is so proud of her that it doesn’t matter

So Harry is Molly’s favorite of her in-laws

He can do no wrong and it’s obvious to everyone that she thinks this

He was family long before he asked Ginny to marry him

He did ask permission just because he thought it was the proper thing to do

He got told to go through the brothers

James is their first grandson and that cements Harry as Molly’s favorite

Bonus, relationships with the grandchildren:

Victoire:

She’s the first grandchild

She has a special place in their hearts

She is the first in so many ways and when she runs away to France they are the only ones she writes too

She is the oldest by quite a bit, so she gets to remember a lot of time with just her, Molly, and Arthur

She will always be close with them

James:

The oldest grandson

He reminds them of Bill

He has a trouble streak that breaks when he’s made Head Boy

They see so much potential in him and that ever goes away even as he gets older

He makes them hopeful in a way they hadn’t been in a long time

Freddie:

The second grandson

Despite being named after Fred, he’s a mini George

He holds so much in and then explodes

He gets on well with Molly and Arthur, and his other grandfather Micah

While he’s good with jokes and puns, it’s his facial expressions that really make him funny

He’s also always willing to help out with anything, and enjoys degnoming the garden

Roxanne:

The second granddaughter

She’s beautiful and witty and funny even as a child

She goes to Arthur for cuddles and Molly for sweets

She has a way of getting out of any trouble, even if she is the instigator

She’s a lot like Ginny when she’s younger, one of the boys and never too fussed about anything

She goes to them for comfort

Rose:

Rose is just like Molly

She is a mother hen, she loves to cook, and she loves spending time with Molly

The feeling is very mutual

Rose always finds Arthur first at any family event to give him a big hug

After she loss her Grandma Jane, she clung on tighter to Molly

After she loss her Abeulo Javier, she made sure to always tell Arthur she loved him between visits

She write them at least twice a month at Hogwarts, and she leaves out no details

They were very proud of her becoming Head Girl

Al:

Just like Arthur

They both like to sit at the edges and just watch the chaos

Al goes out of his way to learn about Muggle things so he always has something to talk to Arthur about

When he’s older he gets really interested in the space program and that becomes their thing

Molly loves how close Arthur and Al are

Molly:

Remember that Percy is a mama’s boy, well Molly is named after both of her grandmothers

She adores Molly and Arthur

Her other grandparents were killed in the war, so she only knows them

In the summer holidays, she’ll go over every Sunday morning for tea

It’s her time to spend with them alone, just by herself

She picks up knitting from Molly and really enjoys it

Molly is the one to carry on the family legacy, she has seven kids (six daughters, one son)

Lucy:

She is also close to her grandparents

She is often found tucked beside Arthur at family events

Just like Al, she finds something specific and Muggle to talk to Arthur about

Hers is travel, and they end up talking about trains a lot

When Lucy gets pregnant with her oldest, she goes to Molly with questions

Every Monday she makes sure to visit and usually brings along her children

Dominique:

She doesn’t write her parents, but she writes Molly and Arthur

She feels like she was always pushed off onto them

Between Victoire’s rebellions and Louis’ autism, she was the one pushed onto others

When she gets pregnant at sixteen, she tells Molly and Arthur first because she doesn’t know who else to tell

She always has dinner with them every Wednesday

Hugo:

He reminds them of Fred

He has an endless amount of energy and talks constantly around them

He constantly spews knowledge and always wants people to know what he knows

Because he sees Rose always helping in the kitchen, he helps in the kitchen and learns how to cook from Molly

When his Abeulo Javier dies, it really affects his relationship with Arthur

He’s scared to lose another grandparent and he actively seeks out Arthur at family dinners

When he finally has children, he makes sure to let them know Molly and Arthur and have a real relationship with them

Louis:

He loves the Burrow

He likes to visit when he knows no one else will be there

Molly and Arthur are just happy to have him, they’re not used to quiet though

He makes a portrait of them for their fiftieth wedding anniversary and one of the Burrow for their seventy-fifth anniversary

Louis very much is about presence and not words, so while he doesn’t know much about his grandparents, he knows them as much as he needs to

When Molly and Arthur pass, he gets all the old family photos

Lily:

She’s the baby of the whole family

She will always be the baby in their eyes

She dances before she walks, and it’s while she’s “helping” Molly at the Burrow

Molly tells Harry and Ginny to put her into dance classes and that changes her life forever

Lily always seeks out Arthur at every family dinner, even if it’s just to give him a hug and a kiss

The summer before her seventh year, she goes to the Burrow almost every day

She wants to know everything she can, about them and their life

She keeps a journal of all their stories and after her oldest graduates from Hogwarts, she writes a book of their life

It brings her and Hugo closer and they are the only ones who have signed copies by both Molly and Arthur

Teddy:

He is the oldest, but he had Andromeda until she passed when he was four

He had been living with Harry for about a year by then

He is the reason why Molly goes by ‘nana’ and Arthur goes by ‘grandad’

He is their grandson in every way but blood relation

He makes time every week to spend time with them and writes to them every other week while at Hogwarts

When he’s down, he goes to the Burrow

His children know Molly and Arthur as their grandparents

Send me a Weasley and I’ll give you a fic, a couple of head canons, or my opinion on them in both canon and fanon!

77 notes · View notes

depressedkakashihatake-fics · 3 years

Text

Burden

KakaGai Week: Day One

Prompt: Burden

Words:1699

AU: Mafia Au

Edited by: @mireleth

The stench of blood lingered in Gai’s nose, as strong as it had been when the first shot had landed on its target. His stomach churned with every breath that he took so he tried desperately to breathe through his mouth. To avoid that awful stench for just a few seconds.

It never worked.

Placing a hand over his stomach, Gai hoped that it would settle to queasiness just a little. He had already emptied the contents of his lunch onto the ground in front of him, and he wasn’t sure if there was any more food to come up, so he wanted to avoid a third round. The thought of bringing up his own stomach acid did not sound like an enjoyable experience.

“You done?” Hearing Kakashi’s voice behind him, Gai brought his head up just enough so he could look back at his partner. As always, Kakashi was unaffected by what had just happened in the small building they had been in moments ago. A steel stomach that never failed him when he had to take care of the dirty work.

His face was as emotionless as always. Not for a second betraying how he was feeling about the firefight that he had just gotten into. Their job had been to exchange money for information from the Kirigakure gang, but the other group had decided that they wanted the money without having to give anything in return.

Speaking of which.

“Did you…” Kakashi held up the suitcase, which only made matters worse for Gai when he saw the blood dripping from it. “Oh god.”

Curling over himself again, he twisted his fingers into the fabric of his shirt as his chest compressed and another round of vomit came rushing up his throat, this time with a burning feeling that confirmed he had reached the end of his lunch.

This was terrible.

“You know, if you keep barfing on the crime scene it’s just going to make us look bad.” Kakashi’s voice was as calm as ever when he spoke, not for a second betraying the disappointment that Gai knew he must be feeling.

Eight years. They had been partners for eight years, three of which Kakashi had taken up the job as Shikaku’s best fighter. The guy who could go in and take down the enemy without flinching.

The man who had just taken out seven Kirigakure thugs without blinking an eye.

And even after all of those years Gai still couldn’t handle it. The bloody scenes that Kakashi created with his shuriken, gun, or whatever other weapon he happened to have on hand at the time. It always made Gai sick to his stomach.

When was Kakashi going to finally get sick of him and ask for a new partner? They weren’t kids anymore, getting sent out on all of the easy, bloodless jobs. He needed a partner who wasn’t going to be useless to him.

Someone who wouldn’t spew his DNA all over the scene of a crime like a five-year-old who just ate some bad hot dogs.

“Gai?” A hand came down onto his shoulder, squeezing gently when he didn’t respond right away. “Gai, are you alright? You’ve been standing there looking at your own barf for… well for a little too long, honestly.”

A hint of worry cracked through the calm façade that Kakashi always had up. A weakness Kakashi only ever seemed to show when it came to Gai. At least, that’s what it seemed like. He had never heard Kakashi’s voice waver when he was talking to someone else.

Taking a deep breath, Gai stood up slowly just to make sure he wasn’t about to vomit again, and turned to look at Kakashi. It wasn’t just Kakashi’s voice that had allowed worry to seep into it, but his face as well. With his brows furrowed and eyes that screamed concern, Gai found himself feeling even worse for the position he had put Kakashi in.

Was he really so useless to his own partner that he couldn’t be there to support him during a firefight?

“Gai, you’re not talking.” The façade shattered. Worry dripped in every word Kakashi said and his eyes searched Gai’s desperately for an answer. “What’s going on? Did something happen, did you… did they hurt you?”

The worry morphed into anger, and Kakashi’s eyes started to search Gai’s body for any signs of injury.

“I’m fine.” Dropping his hands to his sides, Gai couldn’t help but chuckle when Kakashi glared back at him. Somehow that annoyed look he always got for worrying Kakashi just a little too much always managed to bring a smile to his face. “I promise. I was not hit.”

“Good.” Removing his hand from Gai’s shoulder, Kakashi rested it against his hip and turned his attention back to the mess that Gai had made. “I guess we should clean up before we leave…”

“I’ll clean up?” Kakashi gave him an unimpressed look. “I haven’t done anything in this fight. Let me clean up.”

“It’s a firefight, Gai, i don’t expect you to do anything.” Somehow, those words didn’t make Gai feel any better. “You’re the muscle man. Your job is to scare people off and make sure I get out alive.”

Kakashi had never really been great at pep talks, but this was just painful.

“I’m your partner,” Gai spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m supposed to support you. Not…”

Throw up? Leave you to do all the work? Wimp out?

There were a lot of ways to explain what he had done, but he couldn’t settle on the right one.

“You’re my partner.” Hearing his words being said back to him, Gai forced himself to look up and meet Kakashi’s eye. A mistake in his opinion, because suddenly all of the guilt and shame he had been feeling just moments ago was replaced by a fuzzy warmth in the pit of his stomach. One he didn’t deserve to have after he had failed to stay by Kakashi’s side through the fight. “We work together well, Gai, just the way we are.”

“You don’t think I’m… well,” he averted his eyes, unsure of how to word himself in the right way, “I’m not in your way? You don’t want a partner who will actually help you out with these jobs?”

A hand came up to rest against his cheek, the leather of Kakashi’s gloves rubbing against his skin.

“Turtle.” He couldn’t help but blush a little at Kakashi’s use of that old ridiculous nickname he had come up with when they were fourteen years old on a job to deliver food to one of the communities that Shikaku watched over “You’ll never be in my way. In fact, I kind of like that you’re not interested in helping out.”

“You-you do?”

“Ya.” He could almost see the smile hidden behind Kakashi’s mask. That soft, beautiful look Kakashi always reserved for the moments they could steal away together. “I used to always say I work better alone, didn’t i? Well that’s partially true. I work really well with you when we need to protect someone. I can’t imagine trying to keep Shikaku safe and alive without you by my side.”

That wasn’t really a lie. Kakashi was extremely good at keeping Shikaku safe, but he could also be a little overbearing sometimes. Always on edge and looking over their shoulders. He seemed to relax just a bit when Gai was by his side, focusing more on keeping an eye out for anyone who could strike from far away while leaving Gai to deal with anyone who tried to go in for a close attack.

“Still.” Kakashi’s hand moved down his face, his finger tracing over Gai’s jawline before settling on the back of his neck. With his hand firmly in place, Kakashi gave Gai a gentle tug, pulling him just close enough so that he could push their foreheads together without having to move himself at all. “I’m quite happy to be taking care of the bloody fights by myself.”

Meeting Kakashi’s gaze, Gai drew in a shaky breath. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious, Turtle?” His face only seemed to burn hotter with embarrassment when Kakashi used that nickname a second time. “If you were to stay and help in a fight, you could get hurt. If that happened…”

A dark look crossed over Kakashi’s face for a moment, vanishing as quickly as it had appeared.

“If anything were to ever happen to you, I would burn down the world.” He said it as if it was a promise. “And then… well I don’t think you want to know what I’d do next.”

A shiver ran down Gai’s spine. The words didn’t need to leave Kakashi’s mouth for him to know what he was talking about. Kakashi had always been a reckless man, considering his life secondary to those around him no matter how much he and Shikaku tried to get him to change his outlook.

Most days he could tell that Kakashi only held on for those people who wanted him to stay in their lives. On those days he felt almost selfish for wanting Kakashi to stay alive. For demanding that he take care of himself and keep breathing, when he could see how much Kakashi was still suffering in silence.

Perhaps it was selfish, but then of course Kakashi wasn’t any better.

“Now,” pulling himself out of his thoughts, Gai focused on the feeling of Kakashi’s hand as it moved down to his arm and settled on his bicep, “let’s get this mess cleaned up and head back to fill Shikaku in. After that i can…”

Kakashi moved his head just enough to whisper the rest of his sentence into Gai’s ear, his lips brushing against the tender skin. Sweet promises of a long night, and Kakashi’s thumb rubbing small circles into his bicep helped to take his mind off of the bloodbath that they had left behind in the building, and the guilt he had felt over not staying by Kakashi’s side to help him.

He was where he needed to be now. Where Kakashi wanted him, and that was all that mattered.

#Kakagai #KakaGai Week 2020 #Kakagai week #KakagaiWeek #Mafia Au

21 notes · View notes

merakiui · 4 years

Note

There's an AFTERL!FE blog now! I'm so happy. All of your posts are so good and I love how you write. Would it be possible to get another story about Theo and Nine's rivalry? The way you write them is just so fun and enjoyable to read.

(Thank you so much! I’m very happy that you like my posts. (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* You may definitely have another story of their rivalry! I had a blast writing it. This can be considered a sequel to Cake, but it can be read as a standalone as well.)

Nerium Oleander (Theo and Nine)

Stalkers are poison ivy. Their victims are innocent trees, who breathe life and fortune into the one who watches them like a hawk. Twining around their limbs like rope and heavy iron and keeping them pinned for all their worth—it’s a display of parasitic infatuation. Love, like any other emotion felt in full, is awfully draining. Day and night, allowing that person to consume your thoughts. Thinking and wondering if they appreciate you just as much as you value them. Wishing that they would notice everything you’ve done for them on the sidelines. Loathing anyone who threatens that nonexistent relationship.

As fate would have it, there are unlucky instances in which love is one-sided.

Theo simply can’t bear the thought of that, so he becomes oleander—a flower blooming in beautiful death. One hint of its aroma can send you to an early grave. Every inch of the inviting flower is bathed in poison, and yet it’s still so gorgeous. Why is it that the ugliest personalities have the prettiest shells? It’s frustrating to know that he has competition. In a setting with nineteen other Reapers, Theo’s got a lot on his plate. Like ivy and oleander, it’s the exterior that fools. A sharp, monstrous idea can be wonderful as long as it’s hidden within layers of honeyed promises. Like a cake that’s stacked with plenty of delicious flavors.

He doesn’t want to waste his time on endeavors that won’t bear any fruit, but befriending every Reaper will have its benefits. He’s already made a list of those who pose the highest threat to his precious manager. Nine is at the very top, his name circled in black pen. As much as he dislikes the polite and oh-so-gracious Reaper, he has to pretend as if the two of them are friendly coworkers. As if he doesn’t wish for Nine to transfer to another Department or to cease existing. But immortality is funny like that. You’re either stuck with the best people in the world or the fiends of your worst nightmares. Theo wonders if this is his punishment. Spending an eternity with Nine is far more hellish than Quincy and his status as a devil.

Which is why he holds so much hatred for those who hurt his manager, specifically the ones who simply don’t know when to quit.

The blue-eyed oleander witnesses it in the early hours of the morning during a particularly unfavorable mission. A vengeful spirit had the gall to hurt his manager, and they had even more of a spine to talk to them as if they were a worthless weed. In his garden of noxious plants, Theo sees the disgusting hemlock attempting to snuff out the beauty that is his beloved rose. His expression switches in an instant, a light flickering behind those expansive eyes. There are so many emotions he feels in that moment, but fear is dominant as it grabs his heart and squeezes. The spirit could kill them. It’s about to kill them, and he’s flipping through his spell book with rapturous intent.

And then Nine is at their side, shielding them from the spirit’s attack. Before him, the specter vents in anger, spewing meaningless insults. Theo feels as though he’s just been kicked in the stomach. Why is it so hard to get to you? he thinks, gripping the leather book. His chest aches as he sees the manager cling to Nine. Why can’t I be the one who saves you for once? Why can’t you just rely on me? Nine is better equipped to deal with the situation as he listens, attempting to reason with the vengeful spirit. Its crocodile tears don’t faze Theo in the slightest. He should be the one crying because he was too late. One spell and his manager would’ve been rescued from the claws of such a beastly spirit. And yet Nine was faster with his reaction time.

Theo makes a mental note of the way Nine purifies the vengeful spirit once it’s calmed down. He’s always gentle when he talks to them, using his relaxing aura to coax them into tranquility. Theo would’ve preferred to crush it beneath his unmerciful heel, but the problem has been solved. There’s no use fretting over it now. Though it will definitely keep him awake tonight.

“Manager!” He jogs over to them, dropping down to inspect their wounds. “Take this to stop the bleeding. I’ll help you.” Unfastening his cape, he passes it to the manager, who holds it against the bloody laceration while he searches for a proper healing spell.

“Thank you, Theo,” (Name) says, wincing at the stinging sensation. “That spirit really put up a fight. Thanks for coming to my aid, Nine.”

“No need to thank me, Manager. I’m relieved you’ll be okay. Mr. Theo will have you healed in no time.”

Theo grits his teeth before facing Nine. He wants this unworthy hemlock out of his special garden. “Could you gather the others? Let them know that we’re finished over here.”

“Very well. Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No.” It comes out way too stern, and Theo’s quick to correct himself. “No thank you. We’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t spare Nine another glance as he departs, focusing on the manager’s pained expression with sympathy. They’re in his arms now, grasping at him for salvation. The situation couldn’t be anymore perfect.

“That was crazy, wasn’t it?” they ask, making light of the previous events. “My heart is still racing!”

“I...was so worried, Manager.”

They let out a wheezing chuckle. “Thank goodness Nine was there. If it weren’t for him, I could’ve gotten killed. It’s scary to think about.”

“Yeah. Terrifying,” he echoes while casting the healing spell on them. Surely there’s a curse that brings misfortune. Theo wants to do everything he can to master every negative incantation there is. Just for future reference. There are so many possibilities when it comes to his rivals. He’ll have a field day debating which is the most effective. “You’ve got to be more careful. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come to me. I’ll always be here to help you.”

They smile, sitting up on their own accord and feeling for any wounds that might’ve escaped the cleansing powers of Theo’s magic. Every cut is sealed and every bruise is gone, leaving the manager with a feeling of rejuvenation. At once, they recognize the plush fabric of Theo’s cape and gasp, noticing just how much blood has stained the white cloth.

“I’m sorry for making such a mess. I’ll wash this as soon as we get back.”

Theo eyes the color with disdain. How utterly cliché. It’s almost sickening. Red on white is too bold—too deep of an implication. Red is a color that means many things, two of that being passion and love. A third is the color of blood. And white is meant to symbolize purity. Theo knows he’ll have to work hard so that the manager’s purity doesn’t bleed out onto the sterile white of this corrupt world. There’s no way he’ll ever let that happen. When he stares at his cape, drenched in splotchy crimson, he sees more than just a soiled piece of fabric. He sees the darkest imprint of (Name). But blood is still messy, even if it is his beloved’s.

Theo wonders which cleaning agent is best for erasing blood. His thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of wickedness. Mortality is fragile, and cake and blood are no different. Both are victims of inescapable chance. On the other hand, immortality is a curse that binds him to the one he’d rather be far away from. Speak of the hemlock, who has completed the command with diligence. Nine approaches with the others in tow, all of whom crowd the manager like insects. Theo wishes to spend a moment longer with them. Just a few more minutes. There’s so much I want to tell you. He’s bound to this silver-lined rivalry, a prisoner of obsession. And Nine has no idea.

He supposes that’s how poison works. It doesn’t take long until it spreads within its victim, who is unaware as it shuts down vital organs and flatlines their functions. If Theo has to cut the strings that tie him to Nine and anyone else who dares get in the way of him and the manager, he’ll do whatever it takes. Like poison, it’s small and deadly. Poison might not kill an immortal Soul Reaper, but that has nothing to do with their mentality. Cake might be the same when it comes to ingredients and presentation, but it’s the baker who’s most important. A cracked baker is easy to exploit. He’s even easier to tear apart when he’s alone and basking in his own corrosive thoughts.

The oleander festers at the manager’s side, a quiet flower waiting for an opportunity to infect everyone with debilitating poison.

------

Nine has begun to notice a pattern. It’s tiny at first—like a minor inconsistency that isn’t worth the trouble. But then it becomes a prominent itch that looms in the back of his mind like a shadow. Since that mission, Theo’s been hanging around the manager as if he expects another near-death experience to happen, which shouldn’t be much of a worry. Although (Name)’s mortality is concerning, Nine knows the Reapers in the 14th Department would never let any fatal harm befall their precious manager. So why is there a strange feeling that overwhelms him whenever he spots Theo trailing after them, holding files or a bento he made specifically for them? Anyone with half of a brain would assume he’s playing favorites, attempting to get on the manager’s good side so that the punishment for skipping out on work is lighter. Though Theo doesn’t seem like the type to slack off, which is why Nine is sinking in a state of perplexion.

What is he trying to achieve? Realistically, what is there to gain other than (Name)’s approval? They like each and every one of the Reapers, so it’s not like anyone’s on their bad side. He has an eternity to figure it out, though Nine can’t exactly be bothered. If it isn’t hurting anyone, why should he fret over Theo’s behavior? It’s not as though he’s acting out of line. Rather, he’s been quite pleasant. He even offered to assist Nine in moving a few boxes. Nine doesn’t want to hold any suspicions about his colleague, nor does he want paranoia gnawing on his ankles like a puppy.

Without realizing it, he’s been aimlessly walking through the campus as he pieces together fragmented thoughts. His eyes land on the manager, who is alone as they stride towards him. For once, Theo isn’t at their beck and call. Nine thinks of Day and his unwavering loyalty. Perhaps Theo is just as enthused about (Name) as Day is with him. Nine shrugs those comparisons away, opting to focus on his manager.

“Hi, Nine! What’re you doing out here?”

“Taking a small stroll,” he answers. “The weather is perfect for this, and it’s always beneficial to get some exercise.”

“I agree. To be honest, I wanted to clear my head for a bit. I’ve got so much work that it’s beginning to stress me out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Manager. Would you like any help?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” They wave their hand through the air as if the distress isn’t clear enough. It’s obvious they’ve been pulling all-nighters just to get through paperwork and other tasks. “Would you mind if we walked together?”

Nine considers their offer for a moment. While he would prefer a few more moments to himself, he can’t deny someone as caring as (Name). It’s almost a crime to turn them down, and he has no idea where all of this fondness is suddenly coming from. Regardless, there’s a sneaking sensation that touches his sixth sense. Since when did the flowers have eyes? The wind rustles through the greenery, creating an eerie sound that settles in the courtyard. He’s compelled to retrace his steps and turn down the corridor, but your patient expression chases that idea away.

“I don’t mind.” He falls into step with you, calmly observing the deliberate clicking of your shoes. “Take care not to overwork yourself. The 14th Department depends on your leadership.”

At least a few Reapers are more than dependent, he thinks.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can finish everything on time. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Make sure you’re getting enough rest and eating your meals—“

“I know,” they say, drawing out the syllables. “I appreciate your concern, Nine. It means a lot.”

He nods, a simple gesture that confirms his gratitude. His manager is always thanking and praising the others. Briefly, he wonders if they’ve ever taken time to care for their own well-being rather than the well-beings of the Soul Reapers.

“When all of this is over, I’d love to spend more time with you,” (Name) goes on, a bounce in their step. Nine doesn’t miss the excitement that flashes through their features at the prospect of getting to bond with him. He’d rather be alone, but Nine has found it to be a challenge whenever they’re involved. “Do you think you could teach me to play an instrument? I’ve been meaning to pick something up, but I never seem to have time.”

Well, Nine happens to be skilled with his hands. And hands are required to play most—if not all—instruments. Perhaps you’d like to learn the violin, or maybe you’re interested in the drums. He’ll have to learn as he goes with those, but it’s worth it if it means (Name) will be happy. How odd. Where did all of this compassion come from? Nine knows what instrument they’ll say, as the two of them have sat in the storage room and played it on plenty of occasions. The atmosphere doesn’t change, but the flowers certainly do. As if wanting to blot out a horrid memory, the eyes close and a mouth creases into a tight line. Nothing short of disappointment.

“I was thinking I could be good at the piano if I tried hard enough. What do you think? We can play together, and we can even form a band.”

A band consisting of two people is hardly a band. Handcuffs can only restrict one person. A pair of unseeing eyes are useless, and Nine knows his words must be chosen carefully lest his tongue sit on a rusted tray.

He puts on a thin smile. “Learning an instrument can be just as stressful as work. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your health.”

“I’ll be fine, but you do make a good point. It might be overwhelming if I try to balance that and missions. One of these days I’ll try to learn.”

Just not now.

And he couldn’t be any more relieved.

------

Nine finds himself in the common room later that evening, reflecting over the events of the day when he encounters the blooming oleander. He’s preoccupied with the book in his hands, which is a collection of stories written by the famous Edgar Allan Poe. He never intended to pick up something so macabre. It happened to be the first thing he grabbed while perusing the shelves. Perhaps he should’ve looked for a poetry book instead. Before he can get up and complete that task, Theo enters his visage, the corners of his lips upturned. It fails to reach his eyes.

“Good evening, Nine. I didn’t expect to find you here. This is a wonderful surprise nonetheless.” He says a greeting that’s reminiscent of Nine’s, which has been tailored ingeniously. Recycled words are only worthwhile if they’re put to positive use, and Theo bleeds venom. He has no reason to speak to Nine. In fact, he’d rather avoid him at all costs, but that won’t work if he intends to poison his fragile mind with every bit of sly kindness he can muster. Theo has learned to be resourceful. A talented baker knows how to improvise, after all. “Oh, I recognize that cover. It’s an anthology of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories. Which one are you reading?”

Nine glances at the page, picking out notable phrases. He’s at the part where the old man is smothered by his own bedsheets. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’”

“That’s grim, isn’t it? Well, all of his stories are, but that one in particular is really morbid.” Theo sits beside him on the sofa, keeping a gap between him and the weed that is Nine. “Wouldn’t it be scary if you woke up to someone trying to kill you? I know I’d be alarmed. But we’ve already experienced death, so maybe it’s not frightening anymore.”

He tries to understand the motive behind Theo’s incessant chatter. The two of them have never really clicked. Small talk isn’t something they can fall into so easily. Nine wants to ask Theo many things, but it’s wrong to suspect someone without any evidence. So he merely nods as he listens to Theo, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. It’s not as if Nine doesn’t want to talk; he’s just not accustomed to this facet of the Day Reaper. Lo and behold, the question slips out before he can stop himself.

“What would you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you were one of the investigators, what would be your reaction to the man?”

“Oh,” Theo states, pursing his lips as if the inquiry requires deep thought. “We know that the narrator is unreliable. He only wants to kill the old man because of his eyes. He gets paranoid when he hears the man’s heartbeat coming from the floorboards, even after he dismembered his body. I’m sure anyone, investigator or not, would think he’s insane.”

“Do you think that?”

Theo bristles at the question, a sour taste coating his tongue. Why is he suddenly being interrogated by Nine? This isn’t an interview, and it certainly isn’t a questionnaire for a criminal. He laughs to cover up the crack in his mask. “Of course I do. No one of sound mind would murder someone defenseless all because of the way their eyes looked. Just saying it out loud like this is madness.”

Nine nods again. Insanity cannot exist without sanity. A heart cannot function without a beat. A parasite cannot live without a host. He’s not sure where this conversation is going. This is far from a cheery book club meeting. Nine searches every inch of his expression, noting the occasional twitch of his mouth and the constriction of his pupils. Yet he can’t detect an ounce of a practiced lie. Could it be that his instincts are misplaced? Is this what Theo has wanted all along: A moment to talk to Nine as friends rather than coworkers? Perhaps he has been incorrect in his judgement.

The book shuts; Nine doesn’t want to read anymore. There’s an unfinished composition waiting for him in his dorm room. Standing up from the couch, he lowers his head in the form of a farewell. He sets the novel on the coffee table so that Theo can indulge in the fictional world of Poe.

“I’m afraid something has come up, so I’ll be leaving now. Please enjoy the remainder of your evening, Mr. Theo.”

“I will.” Theo beams. “Sleep well.”

Nine doesn’t waste a second turning his back on Theo, exiting the common room with graceful movements. As soon as he’s out of sight, the happy grin melts away and is replaced with that of a dark scowl. He’s not a mindless fool. It was obvious that Nine was uncomfortable. He’s just too polite to say anything, and that’s a weakness Theo’s willing to dissect.

So you were reading Poe, hm? he muses to himself, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. I took you for a poetry guy. How chilling, Nine. Manager wouldn’t like these grotesque tales.

Who is he to determine what they like and dislike? Theo’s watched (Name) for quite some time now, committing their quirky habits to memory. It’s almost comical how they never seem to notice. Nine does, but he’s always been keen, and yet he can never understand the meaning behind his constant staring. That’ll happen when you spend your days alone, keeping yourself entertained with the voice inside your head. Theo wonders if Nine gets lonely with that depressing lifestyle. The two of them are like night and day. Theo’s bright and blinding like the sun. Nine is quiet and calm like the moon. But there isn’t any oxygen on the moon, and the sun can steal a person’s eyesight without feeling any remorse. Two Reapers of complete opposites, rising and setting all the same. A weed and a flower masquerading in a game of cat and mouse.

Oleander grows to towering heights. A stalker’s presence looms as tall as the very flower Theo embodies. He doesn’t care if he’s a leech or a misleading flower. Anything’s better than hemlock and the imposter cake Nine’s baking. Theo’s the baker and the pianist, not Nine. It will never be Nine. He’ll make sure of that. At his very core, Nine is a jawbreaker of many emotions and memories. Theo will fracture every layer until nothing’s left. Until the ground is a mess of colors and stories that unfold before the entire 14th Department. He’ll dig into Nine’s mind with a knife and fork to pull apart stringy recollections of his past life. It’s guaranteed to be a dessert far tastier than a slice of cake.

Poison ivy is easy to identify. As the saying goes, ‘leaves of three, let it be.’ Theo isn’t as obvious as a sickening rash. That’s the difference between ivy and oleander. One kills and the other spreads with red irritation. While he could sit and wallow in bitter annoyance, he’d rather get to memorizing every hateful hex in his spell book. Maybe he can trick Ell into making him a felt doll of Nine. Oh, the thrill of voodoo. Theo’s never performed such dark magic before, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d like to see Nine lose his mind for a change, because eternity knows Theo’s lost his.

The manager deserves only the prettiest of flowers, and oleander has such a gripping, virulent embrace.

#afterl!fe #after l!fe #afterl!fe theo #afterl!fe nine #oneshot #yandere themes #yandere afterl!fe x reader #yandere afterl!fe #yandere theo #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe theo x reader #yandere theo x reader #nine x reader #afterl!fe nine x reader #afterl!fe the sacred kaleidoscope

60 notes · View notes

poc-movie-supremacy · 4 years

Text

My Dad

A.N.: Pat with all of his kids! That’s kinda it. I hope you like it! Comments and likes are appreciated. (I do not own anything related to the Stargirl tv show or the comics) :D

----

Pat didn’t plan on being a Dad. The superhero gig took up most of his time. He was fine with it too. He knows he’d only get a kid if he had time for one. Sylvester was the one who really wanted kids. Pat was more focused on keeping him alive to see him or her or they grow up. Sylvester was pushy though. Late nights when they were relaxing after patrolling he would day dream about little feet running about.

He finally got his wish years into their superhero routine. Sylvester and Pat had been living together for years. If they could get married, it would’ve been their 4th anniversary, and on that day, they brought home little Mike Pemberton Dugan. They argued for a long time on what his last name should be. In the end they flipped a coin and Dugan won. Life was fine for a few years. Then the ISA got worse. Pat begged Sylvester to not go and fight, but he wouldn’t listen.

“What happens if I don’t show up, Pat?” Sylvester would always ask him. “If I don’t show up, what kind of world would Mikey be subjected to?”

“A world without you,” Pat would always think, but never say. Eventually Sylvester would win the argument, and Pat thought it was the worst choice he ever made. It was a couple weeks before Christmas, Mikey was turning two. He was babling and walking down around the house, elated when Sylvester would come home.

Sylvester and the rest of the gang went out giving Pat specific instructions to watch over the kids. Pat didn’t listen. He found a sitter and paid her good money before rushing out to join them.

He was too late.

It kept running in his head, “He was too late.” The ISA had won and almost all of the JSA had died. Pat didn’t know what to do. How do you tell the little boy waiting at home that his other dad wasn’t ever coming home?

Mikey didn’t take it too well. He became moody and irritable overnight. A small funeral for the deceased JSA members was held a few weeks after their deaths, two days after Christmas. Him and Mikey were on their own after that. Pat tried to date other people, but nothing seemed to stick. Besides, the ISA were still out there so there were other things to worry about than dating.

Then he met Barbra. She was the sweetest, prettiest woman he had ever met. He thought, maybe, it was time to settle down again. Courtney was a slight problem though. She didn’t take too kindly to Pat. He thought maybe he should end things with Barbra, but she promised everything was going to be okay. And it was, Courtney, very slowly, opened up to Pat. Trust was there, and Pat tried so hard to be a good not-dad for her. Then it broke when they had to move.

She wasn’t happy about the move, Pat knew that. He also knew that he wasn’t her biological father, but he wasn’t going to let her get into danger fighting Brainwave. His brain screeched at him to acknowledge that Sylvester had another kid, but he shoved it down. That possibility could be dealt with later. Right now he had to figure out a way to keep his step daughter alive.

Joey Zarik dies and Pat has nightmares that it could’ve been Courtney.

Rick Harris seems like a nice kid. Troubled though, and Courtney figures out that he’s a legacy, Hourman’s kid. Pat was surprised, the kid’s grown up a lot since he last saw him. He decides to give him a gift, a piece of the car that he remembered Rick needing. At his house, something felt off. Rick’s uncle reeked of alcohol and he didn’t seem like the nicest person in the world. Pat didn’t want to say anything yet, he opted to just keep an eye on Rick whenever he could.

He hears that Courtney recruited a bunch of other kids, Rick included, to join the Junior JSA. Pat wonders if he has grey hair yet. He knows he’s going to get an ulcer soon. Sylvester would probably laugh at him. Pat spends most of his time planning on different strategies to keep them safe.

He fails.

He tried so hard to prevent this, but Beth gets injured. They were fighting off Tigress and she was out for blood. Rick picked up Beth and cradled her in his arms. Pat picked them up in his giant robot hand and flew them off. Barbra was waiting for them in the auto shop and immediately went to help Rick with Beth. Pat pointed out where the antidote was then flew back to help Courtney and Yolanda.

Despite the fear in his heart, he couldn’t help but feel pride at watching Courtney and Yolanda fight. They have improved so much, their moves were more precise and graceful. Pat stayed back and only attacked when needed.

They managed to knock Tigris out. Courtney and Yolanda dragged her body over to pat and together all four of them flew back to the auto shop. Barbra was taking Beth’s temperature while Rick clutched Beth’s hand.

Court and Yolanda took Trigis to the basement of the auto shop then put as many heavy objects as they could over the door. Sure it was a fire hazard, but they figured if worst comes to worst, Rick could move all the stuff off the door.

“How is she?” Yolanda asked. Rick was quiet, Pat noticed his usual brooding borderline angry look was replaced by complete sadness. He looked like his world was falling apart. Pat filed that detail away for later.

“She seems to be fine, currently she has a low fever and in a minute I’ll take her to the emergency room so they can monitor her.” Barbra replied clipped and profesional.

“She should be fine, guys. Green Lantern was hit with it once and he survived. I’ll call all your parents and tell them that you’re having a sleepover.” Pat reassured.

“But that doesn’t cover how Beth got poisoned.” Courtney almost yelled. She was pacing around fiddling with her fingers. Rick still hasn’t said anything, his eyes never straying from Beth’s face. Yoland crossed her arms and eyed Pat defensively as if asking, she’s right Mr. Dugan.

“I’ll think of something. For now, all of you get changed out of your uniforms. Take a shower, I’ll talk to your parents. Then we’ll take a trip to the emergency room.” Yolanda and Courtney left to go change while Barbra went to fix up the car so it could take Beth to the emergency room. Rick stayed though.

“Rick, she’s going to be fine. You need to change.”

“It should’ve been me.”

“Rick.”

“If I was just fast enough, then it would be me instead of her injured. It should’ve been me ‘cause now she has a fever and she’s in pain. And I’m not leaving her side, what if she needs me.” Rick swallowed a lump in his throat. “What if something bad happens?” Rick spews out quickly. Tears are threatening to fall now and his grip on Beth’s hand has tighented.

Pat scooted closer to rub Rick’s back in a hopefully soothing manner. “You don’t have to leave her side. I can stand my ground against your uncle. He’s been drinking too much for him to be a problem. Anyways, Beth’s going to be fine, medicine is advanced than it was ten years ago. And, don’t think that way Rick. Self-hatred will get you nowhere. After this we can analyze the fight and see what went wrong and what we can improve up and what we did right. I only need you to leave her side for a moment. You shouldn’t stay in that sweaty costume any longer than necessary.”

“Pat-”

“Now Rick, and don’t punch Tigris in the face quite yet. As is she’s quiet, I don’t want to deal with another thing right now. Beth and calling you parents, but mainly Beth needs my full attention.”

Rick reluctantly left Beth’s side to do as Pat said. He was surprised, he expected more of a fight from Rick. Then he realized that Rick probably left so he could compose himself and ‘shower’ by spraying febreeze on himself.

“The car’s ready for transportation. I called Mike, he’s up and he said he’ll bike over to the hospital but I refused. After dropping off Beth, I’ll pick up Mike. He seems pretty spooked.” Barbra rubbed her hands on Pat’s shoulders.

Pat rubbed his hand over his face. “I’ll bet. You okay honey?” Pat turned around and ran his arms up and down her to try and soothe her.

“Yeah, a little spooked, but she’ll be okay? She’ll be okay.” Barbra said in an effort to reassure herself. “I never thought I’d be this stressed as an adult. They’re doing well for themselves though. Very impressive.”

Pat nodded in agreement. “I should start calling all their guardians.”

“We need to do something about Rick’s uncle,” Barbra commented.

“Yeah, but I want to be careful about it. One wrong move and CPS will send him halfway across the country.”

“You’ll figure it out.” Barbra reassured. The calls went easier than expected. Rick’s uncle didn’t even pick up, and Alex picked up and he seemed fine that his sister was having sleep over. It was the Chapel’s that made him nervous. Her father was on a business trip, but her mom was already at the hospital and she promised to ready a bed for Beth. By the end of the call everyone was ready to go. Pat got into the drivers seat while Courtney, Yolanda, and Rick sat in the back holding Beth to their laps. Barbra made sure it was as safe as possible before climbing into the passenger seat. Pat got them to the hospital in record time. Rick picked Beth up bridal style and carried her into the ER. Mrs. Chapel showed Rick the right way to the emergency room. Barbra kissed her husband on the cheek before going to pick up Mike.

Yolanda and Courtney walked hand in hand into the hospital. Pat was right behind keeping an eye on them. Sue him, his already frayed nerves were completely broken after watching Beth get injured. “How are you girls holding up?”

“Beth- She’s like this bright light. She’s kind and she's positive and she always says the right thing you know? It feels wrong like something is deeply wrong in the universe, you know? It- not her. It never should’ve been her.” Yolanda tells him. Her voice sounds more hollow then usual, but her eyes her entire being radiates anger.

“I get what you mean.” For the thousandth time, Pat wondered if this whole game was worth it. They were kids, amazing kids, but kids nonetheless. At least with the original JSA they were adults. Pat knew they were in too deep, so he just texted Barbra to bring more coats before taking a seat in the waiting room with everyone else. Rick eventually came back, seething somewhat. Pat assumed that he was kicked out the hospital room and just gave him some space.

Barbra came back with blankets and coats and Mike, who looked dead asleep, was carrying a couple trays of drinks from McDonalds. “Mom and I stopped by McDonald’s for drinks. They’re all labeled.” Pat smiled at Mike calling Barbra mom, it was a small thing, but it made him happy. Mike went to everyone before heading back to his father. There was a seat open between Courtney and Pat so Mike took that one.

He, with his big puffy coat, curled into Pat’s side. “Everyone’s ok?”

Pat thought hard before answering Mike, “Well, we’re in the hospital, but we’ll be okay.”

It was a cold and long night. Mike dozed off not long after coming here. No one else could sleep. Horrible, awful, what-if’s ran through their mind. After a while, Rick was coaxed out of his brooding by Barbra. She gave him a blanket and a seat to sit on. No one said anything. Maybe they should’ve, but then a nurse entered the wait room and talking was forgotten in favor of listening to the nurse.

“For Beth Chapel?” Barbra and Rick shot up. Pat couldn’t with Mike and Yolanda and Courtney were half-asleep.

“How is she?” Rick asked.

“She’s going to be fine. Any of that weird substance in her system isn’t putting her in danger and the fever should pass by the night. Her mom is with her now, but soon multiple visits will be allowed.”

A collective exhale was let out around the room. Beth would be fine. Rick smiled. Barbra let out a relieved chuckle and gave Pat a kiss, careful of Mike. Yolanda and Courtney gave a sleepy whoop. They pulled Rick in for an hug that he got trapped in once they fell asleep. Pat felt himself finally relax knowing that they were all safe. He never planned on being a dad, he wouldn’t change his situation for the world.

#stargirl #pat dugan #barbra whitmore #courtney whitmore #yolanda montez #beth chapel #Tigirs #Mrs. Chapel #Mike Dugan #I'm sorry for Beth whump #I didn't mean it #hournite #pat x barbra #ella's stargirl fics #we're all fic writers here #rick tyler

43 notes · View notes

lo-55 · 3 years

Text

Shattered Chains of Fate Ch. 12

Exit the Execution

Ichigo has to take a break somewhere in the eighth hour of fighting with the two other parts of him. It was good exercise and it kept him on his toes, but in the end they were all him. Fighting himself would make him twice as tired. Fighting two of himselves? Three times as tired. Ichigo was a man known for unreasonable stamina and stubbornness, but even he had his limits.

Ichigo sits at the roof of one of the buildings with Zangetsu standing just behind him and Neive sprawled out across the windows to his left.

It feels natural now, with the two of them. Like the empty feeling in his left hand is gone, so long as the three of them are together. Ichigo doesn’t know what to think of all of this. There’s still a lot he doesn’t know, and the fact that Zangetsu has assured him that time passes different within and without this place is only a small comfort. He was in the middle of a difficult battle, one to save Rukia, and now where is he? Unconscious somewhere, that much he knew.

Ichigo let out a breath.

“I think,” he begins, “It’s about time for me to wake up now.”

“Leaving so soon?” Neive rolls onto his stomach to turn yellow eyes on Ichigo. He should be more unnerved than he is. He wants to be. But he trusts Neive. Inexplicably and truly.

“Sorry,” he says. He can feel Zangetsu frowning behind him. “This is my second time here though. So I can probably come back?”

“You may return whenever you wish, Ichigo,” Zangetsu intoned. His voice was low and flat. Ichigo couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. What was going on behind those sunglasses?

“You better!” Neive pointed at Ichigo, scowling. Was that what Ichigo looked like whenever he was being petulant?

“I promise,” Ichigo rolled his eyes. “Hopefully next time it won’t be because I've been stabbed by a walking reality marble. I wonder…”

“You wonder?” Zangetsu sounded weary. So he did know Ichigo. Neive, contrarily, grinned. They were both him. His reasoning and logic and his reckless willingness to take chances that might end in disaster.

“Do you think if I let out a strong enough burst of reiryoku I could break out of it? Like Excalibur or Clarant cutting out of one.”

“...I don’t think we have power enough for that. Not yet.”

“Not yet.” Ichigo repeats the words. Yet. These two… they believe in him. They believe he will one day be strong enough to shatter reality itself. Ichigo can’t help grinning.

“It’s time to wake up now.”

Orihime narrowed her eyes at the horrible, awful man in front of her.

Uryu was shooting at him, over and over to try to keep him from getting to her. They all knew she was the real target, he’d said as much at the start of this fight. When he’d tried to lure her close, and then nearly killed his own men to do it.

Now they lay around her, tired but not dead and no longer bleeding. And Uryu. Urya was scraped up, and poisoned, but he was still moving himself through sheer will and some kind of puppet strings he made with his soul?

Orihime’s life had never really been normal (normal people were raised by parents, not by a brother and then by a distant aunt who she’d barely even spoken to. Normal people didn’t have bright orange hair. Normally people didn’t know when ghosts were around) but it kept getting weirder and weirder.

Orihime’s knees hurt from kneeling on the cement. Her hands ached from holding them in place for so long and her soul aches from using so much power consecutively. She had only just figured out how to hold up a shield and heal people at the same time.

All the same. She can’t be finished yet.

Uryu is fighting so hard for her. He’s putting everything he had into this, into defending her.

Orhihime can feel the phantom imprint of teeth in her shoulder. The hot, sticky blood sliding down her chest and back. The scars are still there. She can feel Sora in her arms, a monster of horror and grief. She can feel Tatsuki, limb and cold and not herself. Blood on her skin. Blood on her hands. She had sworn-

“Can you actually hurt someone?”

She freezes. Her heart beats harder in her ribs and she looks at Kurosaki. The question stabs at her chest and threatens to burst the way the hollows attack had against Tatsuki’s skin. She had won that time, and blood had rained before it fluttered away in phantom light and sand. She opens her mouth.

“I-”

“If it comes down to you or them. If it comes down to them or me . Orihime, could you hurt someone? Could you attack with the intent of making sure they don’t get back up?”

She clasps her hands in her lap. “I-I can-”

“If you can’t,” he cuts in swiftly. “Say it now. When we fight we need to know you have our backs. Do you understand, Orihime? “

“Y-yes,” she bows her head. She understands his words. Tatsuki had taught her for years how to throw a punch, grapple and pin and fight. But whenever it came down to actually hitting someone else she always flinched. It was no wonder Kurosaki thought she was incapable of fighting. Maybe she really was.

But she came to save Rukia. If that means she needs to focus on healing and guarding she can do that. She can be content with that role.

Only now that role was getting in the way.

How could she stand by and watch Uryu fight and bleed for her sake? How could she do nothing while that cruel man talked about the horrible things he’d done to Uryu’s grandfather? Or to his own daughter? The solemn girl that broke her very body on his command.

She doesn’t understand. Rukia was so kind. So sweet and nice. How could she and him belong to the same group of people?

It makes her sick. Her hands start shaking again.

Aramaki, a man who had tried to take her and run, takes a step away from the captain. The force of his spirit, the gravity of his power, is crushing them both.

It’s nothing compared to Ichigo’s.

Orihime hadn’t been entirely sure when they first arrived, but now she’s certain of it. Ichigo is stronger than almost any of these shinigami. She hadn’t run into a single one who feels stronger than he did when he first made a miraculously bright canon ball that morning they went to Kukaku’s home.

A horrible creature crawls its way out of the captain's sword. Baby faced and cherubic, it frightens Orihime even more than the bone mask that had once hidden her brother's face from her.

Ishida glows like a one winged angel, to try to defend her.

Orihime closes her eyes.

No.

“-can you actually hurt someone?”

No.

“If it comes down to you or them. If it comes down to them or me. Orihime, could you hurt someone? Could you attack with the intent of making sure they don’t get back up?”

No.

“When we fight we need to know you have our backs. Do you understand, Orihime?“

Yes.

She will not be defended anymore.

“Tsubaki,” his name comes from her lips. Acid that she will bear, he flutters in front of her. She will only have one strike. She can’t hesitate. Not again. She will not let someone else fight her battles for her.

“Koten Zanshun!”

Tsubaki flickered into the golden glow of her powers and shoots like a dart. Straight through the horrible monster and it’s master.

The hole she makes is nothing. Just a couple inches across on both, but the glow still connects her to Tsubaki through them. An acid wire of destruction.

“Was that supposed to hurt, little girl-”

“ I REJECT!”

The wall erupts and matter splits. Two halves of a man fall in opposite directions. A grotesque caterpillar follows suit, spewing violet gasses as it goes. Orihime isn’t afraid. She calls on the others to undo the damage that the poisons cause.

When she reaches Uryu he’s leaning heavily against a wall with the girl that was once their enemy. Orihime would rather she be their friend, now that her father is gone.

She offers them both a hand in standing up.

* *

Ichigo opens his eyes to blood.

It’s not his, but a womans. She sits away from him, struggling to reach difficult gauges cut out of her back. Four scores that go from shoulder blade to the opposite ribs.

Ichigo sits with some difficulty. His whole body aches, and his chest throbs. It is familiar, but then again most pain is to him at this point in his life.

Ichigo reaches out with his senses. She feels familiar. Liquid shadow and silk fur, night-dark humor and wicked steel.

“Yoruichi.”

She doesn’t startle. He’d never had the silence of a Hassan at his side. Speaking of...

She looks a bit like Personas in her preferred form. Violet hair, dark skin, and built to fight and win . Neither one of them has the delicate build of Serenity, the poison mistress, but that didn’t stop Personas and it doesn’t stop Yoruichi from being lovely as sin.

“You’re awake. Good, I was starting to get worried,” she tossed him a smile over her shoulder.

“You’re the one bleeding,” Ichigo retorts. He rolls onto his knees and stretches his arms above and back until there’s about a hundred pops of his bones. His back feels warm, then cold before he straightens out to face her. “Let me help.”

“Do you know healing magic, oh magician?” Yoruichi’s smile was more fit for a cat than a human. Ichigo rolled his eyes.

“None that I can use right now. But I know how to use a needle and thread. Do you have my bag? What happened?”

Yoruichi frowns at him, but motions to his bag in the corner nonetheless. Ichigo rises on legs that feel like they’re more smoke than bone. Weak and hollow. His ribs aren’t much better and the dark mark of Scathach feels fresh again.

Ichigo does his best not to rub at it when he brings the bag back over and pulled his first aid kit out of it. Yoruichi stays still while he carefully disinfects the injury. The bleeding is sluggish and its covered in a thick paste that keeps it at bay until Ichigo carefully draws it away and starts to stitch the skin closed.

He knows these gauges. Sharp sword strikes, and less deep ones litter his own body, save his shoulder. He can see it in the clean split of skin.

“If I wasn’t a mage, I’d try to figure out how to use that healing crap Tessai has,” he said idly while he pulled out his silk threads and curved needles.

“If you’re a shinigami, you can use kido,” Yoruichi said with certainty. Ichigo frowns.

“Mages aren’t supposed to be able to use spiritual energy. They use life energy. Almost no one born after the separations of the worlds can do both.”

“You already do.”

Ichigo didn’t respond. He carefully closed her cuts and spread a cream across it to make sure it didn’t get infected later on.

“How’s that?”

“I had no idea your father taught you so much,” Yoruichi looked over her shoulder at his work as best as she could. She wouldn’t be as flexible as she was before for a week or so. Ichigo rumaged through his bag.

“He didn’t teach me a damn thing. There’s burns on your arm, let me see those two. Yoruichi, what happened?”

Yoruichi gave him her arm without a fight. She was smarter than a lot of warriors he knew. She didn’t fight a medic, even one as half trained as Ichigo was. He spread burn cream across it and wrapped it with firm, but gentle hands. Maybe when they got back he would ask Tessai about the healing, but considering how shit he was at regular spellwork he didn’t have high hopes for that. When he was done he sat back on his heels.

“Better?”

“Mhmm, much,” Yoruichi looked her arm over. She grinned mischievously at Ichigo and yanked him into a sudden hug, smashing his face into her bare chest.

“How good of you to take care of a poor stray cat, Ichigo!”

Ichigo’s face heated and he shoved her, but she was stronger than she looked.

“Don’t pull your damn stitches! I’m not redoing them got it?!”

“Aaaw, don’t be so grumpy,” she huffed at him, but he could still hear the near sadistic smirk on her face.

“Shut up. Put some clothes on before you freeze to death already.”

“Oh? Don’t tell me you’re a blushing virgin. Ichigo!” she sang.

Ichigo finally pried himself away from her with a grunt. “Shut up,” he said again. “That’s none of your business.”

Honestly.

Ichigo wasn’t a ‘blushing virgin’ or whatever the fuck. He was used to women who barely wore any damn thing. That didn’t make it any less weird when he was nearly suffocated in someone's tits!

Yoruichi laughed at him and finally fetched a shirt. Ichigo rubbed his shoulder, his fingers brushing against the new scar tissue. It was edged ever so lightly in white.

He wondered at it, but figured it was Zangetsu’s work.

“I’m surprised,” Yoruichi said when she returned in an orange shirt and black body suit. “I would have thought you would be hopping mad when you woke up. I did leave Rukia behind.”

“That wouldn’t be fair to you,” Ichigo shook his head at her. “Those two, Ukitake and Kyoraku, are way too strong for one person to take on alone. And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you didn’t tell me what happened. Yoruichi .”

She had the decency to look contrite.

“I’m out of practice,” she said at long last. “When I grabbed you and ran I didn’t realize that a trap had been laid by the omniskido, the stealth force. On top of that, there was lieutenant out for vengeance. She was convinced that one of us had killed her captain, and came after us for revenge. She was the one who managed to burn my arm. She wasn’t even that strong.”

Ichigo winced. That would have stung Yoruichi’s pride as much as singed her flesh.

“Fury makes for powerful adversaries, but anger runs cold eventually…”

“When did you get so wise?” Yoruichi teased, poking his cheek.

Sometime between Fuyuki and Babylonia?

“Don’t make me sound like I’m taking a journey to the west or something,” he brushed her hand aside. “We still have to get Rukia. I’m not sure how now. I couldn’t beat Kyoraku as I am, and you’re all banged up. Maybe…” If he tied a ribbon around Yoruichi’s wrist, could he push his power into her? How strong was she, anyhow? And the others, where were they? No one had died, he hadn’t felt anyone disappear. Were their disguises working?

“I should have brought walkies,” Ichigo cursed his own lack of forethought.

“Calm down, Ichigo. The way we rescue Rukia is simple.”

Ichigo glanced at her. “Oh?”

Her grin belonged on a cheshire cat, even if she wasn’t wearing purple stripes. “We make you stronger.”

“... oh. Is that all?”

* * *

Ukitake would admit it.

He had no idea what to think of these intruders.

Even though normally they would be confined to squad 6’s prisons he had managed to arrange for the ryoka to be brought to his own, under the grounds that since Rukia was his underling and they were here for her, they were his responsibility.

Yamamoto was more concerned with the return of the flash queen, Yoruichi, than a few humans she had managed to wrangle together and approved it with only a stern warning to keep an eye on them.

He had asked each and every one, from the ones he and Shunsui apprehended at the tower, to the pair that had nearly killed Mayuri, why they were there for a girl they barely knew.

The answer was the same.

Because Ichigo wanted to save her.

Ichigo. The one on the bridge that had looked so much like Kien. From the furrow in his brow to the proud tilt of his chin. Even his sword play was similar. Fast and powerful, he adapted to Shunsui’s games the way very few ever had.

And what he did to Rukia…

Ukitake had never seen anything like it before. In that form, he was sure Rukia could have frozen his own shikai if she’d had the mind to. It was terrifying.

Or it would have been.

If it weren’t for the fact that there was no malice in the boys eyes.

Anger, yes, but they didn’t bubble with hatred. He had no will to cut down any of them. And he hadn’t, no the lieutenants or the captains that stood in his way. He left them all living even it would have been safer and probably smarter to make sure they couldn’t come after him again.

Just what was he thinking? Was he really here just to save Rukia? And why was Yoruichi with him? Had one of the Ryoka really killed Aizen?

All of this circled back to the peculiar circumstances behind Rukia’s sentencing.

Execution was harsh. Moving the date up even harsher. And, why wasn’t he allowed to petition for a retrial? He was a captain, and a noble, as was Shunsui. They had both been barred at the gate despite these privileges.

It was about time that he got some answers to these questions. Ukitake was a patient man.

He was still no more a saint than Shunsui, who was equally eager to find something solid to sink his teeth into.

They would go to the Central 46 chambers and find answers, if it wasn’t so late that Rukia might truly die without someone to defend her.

The boy, Ichigo, was strong certainly, but not stronger than the terrible spear levelled at his young protege.

So, quietly, and under the cover of darkness, Ukitake went to Toshiro and spun a thread of suspicion for him. He agreed, as well as his lieutenant, to investigate the Central 46 chamber while he and Shunsui did something more reckless than they had in centuries. Yamamoto would rage at them when he found out what they were doing, but in his mind and in Shunsui’s it was necessary.

He never could have predicted what would actually happen.

* * * *

Ichigo had had some close calls before, but this was seriously cutting it down to the wire.

Fire licks along his wrists but doesn’t make its way past him. He holds the great firebird back with the edge of Zangetsu’s sword.

The spear screams at him, howling defiance. It is a tool of justice and death, the ultimate punishment, to burn away the sins of those who stand before it.

Ichigo cocks his head.

It’s more than that. He knows the heat, though this is lesser considerably, only yellow not blue. He knows the crushing force of duty and responsibility behind it, and the spear that birthed this one. The beak is only a shard of a lance he is very familiar with.

“Well,” he says slowly, blinking at the fiery eyes that hold on him. “Hello there.”

Rukia is a light weight under his arm, and he barely feels it when she elbows him in the ribs.

“I told you-”

“I know. I won’t ask you to forgive me, and I don’t expect you to thank me. I just expect you to survive, Rukia.”

The bird flaps back, and circles them slowly. If the lance he knew could destroy 1000 souls, this one can only destroy one. What’s more, it seems to recognize Ichigo.

“Ichi-!”

“It’s fine.”

The bird presses its burning beak into Ichigo’s knuckles and dips an avian bow low before it leaves them be. It lands again on the ground and with a scream to the heavens claps its wings above its head.

The flames disperse and a spear stands in its place.

Ichigo drops to the ground as well. People are looking at him again. That same look that says he’d just done the impossible. He was getting used to it.

“That works,” he says with a nod to himself.

“That doesn’t- how did- Ichigo what the fuck ?!”

“Dunno. Guess he just likes me,” Ichigo shrugs casually and hoists Rukia over his shoulder. “Ready?”

“Ready for wha- AAAAH!” Rukia screams bloody murder when Ichigo yeets he towards the ground as hard as he can, where Renji of all people is waiting. He’d shown up yesterday to tell them that execution had been rescheduled for a day closer, and that Kenpachi Zaraki had apparently gone AWOL and stolen a couple of Ichigo’s friends and was busting down Seireitei looking for a rematch.

He still wasn’t sure how much he believed when Renji told him that Orihime cut a captain in half.

Ichigo waves cheerfully from his perch atop the execution platform.

“Take care of Rukia, alright?”

He still doesn’t have a plan for when they’ve finally gotten away. Hide in the living world, he supposes. Take them to the clock tower maybe. Waver would be helpful, and he still has his gift from Marie.

Whatever.

He’ll take it one step at a time. No use fussing about the far future when he still has the present to fixate on. On top of that, something is happening below him. A separation in the ranks of the shinigami. Kyoraku and Ukitake seem to be standing off from the others, between the retreating Renji and Rukia. Ukitake has a shield of some kind, and Kyoraku has drawn his blade.

Ichigo jumps forwards, sailing downwards. Where is Kyo in all this mess? And that strange man, Gin? There’s barely a handful of heavy hitters down here.

Ichigo lands a few feet away from Ukitake. Zangetsu hangs in one hand, his bandages wrapped around Ichigo’s wrist. He keeps himself sideways, to defend from either side if he must, but he has a good feeling about this.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever’s happening down here,” he says casually, “But does this mean you’re helping to rescue Rukia?”

Ukitake’s smile is a phantom thing, equal parts guilt and honesty. “We’ve been trying since she was first brought back, in less… flashy, ways than you’ve chosen. She is, after all, one of my subordinates.”

“Honestly?” Ichigo tosses a grin at Kyoraku. “I’m glad I’m not playing with you this time, old man.”

“Old man! How cruel,” Kyoraku actually pouts at him. It’s a little disturbing. “Ah~ I prefer drinking to fighting anyhow.”

“Sucks that I’m underage then,” says the boy who spent years in time periods where wine was a safer alternative to contaminated water.

Ichigo has only a second to brace himself when a wave of heat slams into him from his right.

All around him, people drop like flies.

Ichigo scowls over his shoulder at the old man. Heat rises off of him like cement on a summer day, casting a shimmering crown above his bald head.

“Well that’s pretty damn rude,” Ichigo snaps at him. “You’re hurting your own subordinates more your enemies. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“You dare speak in such a manner? After the mockery you’ve made of our justice?”

“What justice?” Ichigo bristles, danger flaring through him. He presses his free hand onto the shoulders of the two people who had flanked Ukitake, and now fallen on their knees. His strength flows into them until their breathing eases. “You’ll execute someone who was only doing her best to help me? To protect my sisters?! Where is the justice in that?! No harm was actually done, until you decided she needed to die!”

He repeats his gifts with the girl with the glasses. All eyes are on him again. The pressure and the heat increases.

“It is the will of the Central 46. We will follow their orders, and you shall not interfere! That girl asked that you be spared your death, it was her dying will, but you have thrown that request into her face.”

Ichigo narrows his eyes at this man.

“You know something? Some of the worst things in history are done by people who follow their orders blindly.”

The Argonauts. The men who kept Astrious in prisoned in the labyrinth. Medb’s soldiers. The Knights of the Round Table. How many horrible things had been done to him and his friends by people who refused to think for themselves? Who saw what was being asked of them and never once said ‘no’?

“Do not presume to lecture me, boy!” The pressure bears down on him, a mountain of heat and anger. Ichigo doesn’t falter. “I have lived a thousand of your human lives. The impertinence of youth is-”

“You’re about two thousand years old, right?” Ichigo cuts in. “Or, more like twenty two hundred, give or take fifty years.”

“I am-”

“So you were alive before the end of the Age of Gods, right?”

He knows he’s stalling. He knows he should get out of here. Or get this fight underway. Or something. He can’t take this man in a fight, even if he can stand his power. He is, after all, just a man. He isn’t Ishtar, or Gilgamesh, or Orion. He isn’t a god or half divine. His heat is nothing compared to Karna’s. A convection over instead of a volcano.

Nevertheless, he has to ask this question.

The old man’s eyes crease open. There’s anger in them, and curiosity too. “I was.”

“Great. Then where the fuck is Ereshkigal?”

Silence descends. The old man is so surprised the pressure actually lets up a moment before doubling.

“There is a name I haven’t heard in millenia. The queen of Kur, the goddess of the dead. I didn’t think humans still knew of her,” he regards Ichigo with a new kind of wariness. Warranted, for certain. “All that is left of her is the Sogyoku, a creation from her own lance, holding the flames of the soul of a sungod.”

Ichigo doesn’t tell him that that’s not quite right.

“The heat of that spear should have incinerated you. I can’t say what magic you used to put a stop to it, but I intend to end this altercation before you do something like that again.”

The old man lifted his cane.

Ukitake and Kyoraku moved . Faster than Ichigo can keep up, they launch themselves at him. There’s a glance of steel and the sound of metal on metal. Someone shouts, a light flashes, and the three disappear.

Ichigo barely side steps a tiny flicker of energy.

A girl, no taller than Rukia with a captains coat, does her very best to cut his head off before Ichigo slams Zangetsu into her chest and unleashes a harsh Getsuga Tenshou. The problem with assassins, most of them are bad at taking hard hits.

He tears through the rest of the assembled crowd like they’re made of paper, before he stops at the woman with the braid. She reminds of him Nightengale, in the most frightening of ways. Her head tilts minutely at him. Something in her eyes sends a shiver down his spine.

“Aren’t you going to fight me, ryoka?”

“Ichigo,” he corrects mildly. His brows furrow. “Don’t take this the wrong way, miss, but I do my best to avoid fighting healers. If it’s not too much trouble, would you let me go on my way?”

She looks down at the people on the ground. Lieutenants, captains, and special guards all fallen at his blade. None of them have stopped breathing.

“I suppose I can honor that request. There is something else I must do regardless. Please stand back then, Ichigo.”

He takes a few steps back, until he standing next the three subordinates Ukitake and Kyoraku had left behind. She draws her sword and with a soft murmur it warps, twists, and expands like putty until a giant manta ray is standing on clawed feet.

Ichigo watches in horrified fascination as it eats the injured and flies off.

“...You all saw that too, right?” He asks the other three. He’s the only one who’s even remotely surprised.

Because that’s normal here, of course.

“Okay,” Ichigo dusts himself off. “I need to go find my friends. Are you guys coming with?”

“Captain left us here with you for a reason,” the eldest girl, the one with the glasses says primly. “So we will follow you for now, and make sure you don’t run into any more trouble.”

“Hey, what did you do when the Head Captain was crushing us?” The blonde girl asks, falling into place at Ichigo’s side. The man flanks her, looking just as intently at Ichigo. It feels natural to lead them down the hill, never mind that they’ve only known each other for a total of twenty minutes max.

“That? I just pushed enough of my reiryoku into you that you wouldn’t get squashed or burnt up. It’s not big deal,” he shrugged one shoulder.

“No- No big deal!? You can’t just transfer spirit energy like that!” The man argued, stumbling over his own shoes. “No one can do that! Even the fourth division has to use special kido for that kind of thing!”

Ichigo eyes him sideways. “I do impossible things all the time. You’ll get used to it.”

They made it all the way to the bottom of the hill, where his friends were waiting with Yachiru of all people, before something new slammed into his senses from the way they had come.

Kyo.

* * * * *

Gin pities Hinamori.

He really, really does. She’s been jerked around on a string so many times in the last few days as a part of Aizen’s mechanisms. First she had to deal with her grief. He was sure it was Hitsugaya that planted the idea that Gin was the killer in her head.

Sweet Kira had kept her from so much as singeing his shihakusho.

After Gin someone in the Onmitsukido had gotten her on the trial of the ryoka, who were really the perfect distractions in this case. She had attacked the ginger boy and Shihoin without hesitation and with enough vicious animosity and single minded determination that she actually got a few shots in. If she was more blood thirsty maybe she could have a decent subordinate to Aizen truly, instead of this puppet he was leading around.

A single letter from him and she turned on her childhood best friend.

A single word and her faith was restored before it was shattered completely with a hand through the chest.

Yes, Gin pitied the poor, foolish little girl for trusting Aizen so readily.

It’s okay, he wanted to tell he, I’ll make sure he pays for everything. One way or another.

He couldn’t, of course. He wouldn’t risk the position he’d spent well over a century cultivating. He would get his vengeance soon, and take back what was stolen from Rangiku. He just had to keep biding his time, like every other snake in the grass.

Unbidden, his mind turned to Ichigo Kurosaki again. Just how would the boy fair against Aizen? How much of a struggle could a single not-quite-a-human put up?

* * * * * *

#Zangetsu #hollow ichigo #Ichigo Kurosaki #bleach fanfiction #BAMF!Ichigo Kurosaki #Ichigo Kurosaki is Ritsuka Fujimaru #gin ichimaru #Merlin Fate/Grand Order #rukia kuchiki #yoruichi shihouin

6 notes · View notes

randbwrite · 3 years

Text

La Comtesse Chronicles Chapter 4 Part 2

Words: 1592

TW: Blood, death, graphic violence CW: Vampires, assassin

<<So...I’m a superhero! Yahoooo that’s sweet!!>>

Her laughter pealed through the room again. My, this was a strange one.

“Well, if you wish to conceptualize it that way, I suppose there’s no harm in it. You’re like a combination between Spiderman and either the Flash or Nightcrawler. Suppose we will see in due time.”

The red-haired scamp tried to play off that he was comfortable at the moment, with his position as he floated. Tempted to make him drop to see how much he was really freaking out, but she held off. She could see through that in an instant, but she would play along. Better than him outwardly freaking out. That would be quite troublesome. Ah well, not that she hadn’t dealt with people freaking out at her before.

<<Does that mean I’m an X-Men now? Ohhhh hey! You’re totally Professor X! Except way hotter. Hey, Derrick ol’ boy, don’t give me that look! You’ve gotta be thinking it too. Oh right, I forgot. You’d use words like, ‘Her elegance and pulchritude are unrivaled by anything my eyes have beheld before, or will hence.’ Am I right?>>

More laughter. This one was quite the card. And now the two bantered. A wide smile accompanied by a few chortles. Well, they would certainly make the castle more lively, once the other residents accepted them that is.

“Hmmmm, hotter Professor X, hadn’t ever thought of it that way, but yes, from your perspective, that is a rather good description.” All this said without batting an eye. “I do have all of the powers he has, except I have the additional abilities a pure blood has. Super speed, strength, plus healing. Makes me a bit scary…. According to others anyway. I do have a house full of other people with abilities, so yes, I’m exactly like Professor X. Suppose that would make you an X-man.”

<<Hold up hold up. You have got a lotta names, sweets. Is there one you prefer to go by? Also, do ya really mean it? I— I can go with you? You-you’re not going to leave me here?>>

“Sweets?” Oh, that got quite the eyebrow raise. “Most call me Comtesse. I suggest you stick with that till I tell you otherwise, lest you really want to play with fire, luv.” A wink and a smirk later, laughter rang out. Taking a page out of Arthur’s book was more fun than she had imagined, at least with the nickname. Let’s see if he can handle a woman who can hold her own.

But, his question deserved an answer in all seriousness. A sigh and a nod later she spoke clearly, “No, I won’t leave you here. I sired you, accidentally or not; that means that I am responsible for you now. I will not let someone that is my responsibility live in such conditions. It’s unconscionable. My home will be your home, you will be safe. You need not kill anyone ever again unless you have a desire to join me on the battlefield. The residents of my castle live in peace to pursue what they like. You’ll see soon enough. I’m taking this as your decision, so yes, you are coming with me, as is your friend, assuming he has the same answer.”

<<How do you propose we get out of here? Nearest window? Need a bodyguard? I know I don’t look like much right now, and you can float an’ all, but there’s gonna be a whole passel of people ticked off you’ve invaded their home.>>

“You underestimate me, young man. I know exactly how we are getting out of here. I’m not worried about the rats that are scurrying around, especially since they are running upon seeing me. Ask your friend, though I suppose you will see soon enough. In your current state, you are more of a liability than an asset. I have some unfinished business here. No one, and I mean no one, sends someone to kill me and leaves with it unanswered.” The last bit came out as a growl. Anger began to emanate again, her mind focusing on the events of late. “Enough talk, for now, you can ask me anything you like once we are home.”

With that, she took Derrick’s hand and led both of them, one of them floating, down the halls. Cal was right, there were those who now had the gumption to try to attack her. Bad idea. Her shoes clicked against the hard floor before two assassins flew down from the ceiling. She looked up and sighed, they now suspended midair above them. She clicked her tongue several times before shaking her head.

“None of you ever learn. Time to sit for a bit Cal….” Gently, Cal was set on the floor. The two assassins struggling midair was quite a comical sight, they both looking as if they were trying to either swim through the air or attack it. They now catapulted up to the ceiling then back to the floor several times, as if someone were grabbing them by the legs and throwing them between the two. They were left on the floor groaning, their weapons now floating. More came down the hall, fangs bared. Another loud sigh and the daggers went barreling down the hall fast as a bullet. Some landed in the chest, no doubt piercing their hearts, the others struck them in the heads. Several loud thuds later and the hallway was again quiet.

“See, nothing to worry about. Now… to that unfinished business of mine…”

Another hallway, more vampire assassins. This was getting old. The hallway filled with fire and the floors were coated in ice. She glanced back at Cal and Derrick before stepping forward, her boot causing a huge crack to travel along the ice. She waved her hand and the fire parted, the two vampires on the other side had their eyes wide as saucers. “Now that’s what I call hot.” A deep chuckle rang out, as one sprinted forward, fire spewing in her direction.

She held up her hand and it was as if she had an invisible force field in front of her, the fire moving around it. “My turn….” She snapped her fingers, and it was as if the snap signaled his sanity to rip in two. A battle broke out between the two vampires, fire and ice spewing all over the hall. Slowly, she made her way to them, the field around her deflecting any ice and fire that may have hit her otherwise.

Her voice, now a low thunder, “Stop.” They both obeyed. Daggers swiftly taken from each side of her hip, they plunged upwards into each of their chests. Daggers taken out, throats slit, the whole movement taking place in a blink of an eye. Both hit the floor in unison, their blood dying the ice crimson.

Taking both their hands now, she led them to the council chamber. Any assassins encountered on the way were pushed aside or dispatched with ease. She let go of their hands as they reached the doors. She knocked and there was no answer. Rumble of a laugh later, she touched the doors, which promptly flew off their hinges and crashed into the room. Assassins flinched, eyes wavering but unable to look away, though their expressions showed nothing.

“Now, which of you delightful people ordered my killing, hmm?” The steel of her voice, the sheer ice in it sent several of the members shuddering. They all just stared down at her. “Fine then, leadership is always responsible for the orders. We had an agreement, I leave you alone, you leave me alone. What on earth possessed you to break it, I haven’t a clue. But surely you didn’t think all you would get was a strongly worded letter from the sweet socialite Comtesse, hmm? No, no. There is a price for everything, and this one will be quite steep.”

She pointed at the head of the league. “Let this be a lesson to you and all those who would think of coming after me or my residents. By the way, these two belong to me now. If any of you even think of harming them I will come and slaughter the lot of you, and I won’t be alone.”

Two fine daggers came off her sides and floated in front of her for just a moment. Just then they rocketed at the head of the assassin’s league. Super speed employed, he ducked, flipped, and landed in front of her. His own sword raised, it looked like he would be slicing her in twain, that was till a “thunk” was heard. His eyes went wide before the other dagger stuck into the front of his head, twisting and circling around to take the top of his head off. The body hit the floor with a thud, crimson blooming below him.

“I was just going to kill you, but the fate I just bestowed is far better in my opinion. Enjoy an eternity as one with no special abilities would.” Gasps filled the room as she retrieved her daggers. Taking Derrick and Cal’s hands again, she walked with them out the doors of the council room, her footsteps echoing where screams should have been.

Soon they passed through the remnants of the front doors, she now stopping and turning around to look at them. “Last chance to stay, gentlemen. After this, you both will be in my care for the rest of your lives, for better or worse.”

#tw: violence #tw:death #tw: blood #assassin #vampires #ikemen vampire #fanfiction #dark fantasy #whump #whumpfic #au #oc #comtesse #derrick #rapscallion

1 note · View note