#✏️ - ᴘʀᴇᴄɪᴘɪᴄᴇ ᴏғ ғᴀᴛᴇ // (drabbles)

[pleasuregave]

When he came up with the idea, Jin didn’t think it’d bother him. It being disturbing didn’t even cross his mind. But now that they’re attempting this, Jin almost wanted to back out. Usually either Jin had full control over the body, or Devil did. They’ve never both, technically, been in control at once.

Earlier, Jin came to Devil with a suggestion, asking if it was possible for him to take over a limb. Devil found the idea intriguing, and Jin claimed it could be useful in the future. But for what use? A fight, maybe? Then why are they trying whilst he lays upon his mattress, his body without a single article of clothing?

Jin’s suggestion turns out to be a success; Devil takes control of his arms alone, whilst Jin keeps the rest. However, Jin didn’t consider how distressing it would be to lose all feeling in the arms. His hands are there as always, yet he doesn’t feel like the digits fumbling against his skin are his own. His theory works, but Jin’s unsure if he can get used to this.

He releases a shaky sigh, attempting to soothe his nerves. Devil’s voice rings in his head, ‘am I getting closer?’

A little lower.

It’s not as if Devil had eyes right now, but Jin still assumed he’d feel his way around better than this. Or maybe Devil’s fine, and it’s the absurdity of the situation that’s making Jin lose his patience. Whilst he’s grateful that Devil was on board with his idea, Jin feels he should be ashamed. Men allow their arousal to take them down dark roads, but how many would let demonic possession give them a hand?

If there's a heaven, Jin's certainly not welcomed.

"Ah-!"

His worries regarding his deviance dissolves when Devil finally finds his erect member. Calloused fingers wrap around the burning girth, gently caressing the shaft to become familiar with it. Jin didn’t intend on gasping as loud as he did, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like somebody else’s hand. Yes, he theorized it would, but it’s weirder to experience the sensation.

Devil’s hand seesaws the length. After every three or four strokes, it takes a temporary break underneath the glans to run the pad of his thumb in circles against the head. A whimper tries to leave Jin. He sinks his teeth into his lip to prevent any more embarrassing noises from escaping. However, muffled noises are still stubborn as Devil’s pace grows faster.

‘Feels good?’ Devil asked in a chuckle, knowing the answer damn well by the groans from Jin.

Yes! Yeah - just... go on...

He lost all movement in either hand, but he still possesses control over his hips, which Jin thrusts them into Devil’s hand, fucking his throbbing cock against the palm. His teeth release his lips to moan, “fuck.” The other hand explores Jin’s body, sending shivers down his spine as fingertips graze his hips, ribcage, and his large, soft chest. The digits end their journey to play with the nipple, teasingly rolling it between them. “Fuck!” Jin repeats, louder.

Perspiration blossoms across his heated body, causing his back to cling to the mattress’ fabric. To alleviate the sticky discomfort and indulge in the Devil’s pleasurable touch, Jin arches himself. His legs spread further, and his feet plant into the bed with a harsh slam, causing springs to cry in a recoil.

Excitement reaches a boiling point for Devil as Jin’s groans increase in volume, and a hot, sticky substance coats his fingers. Devil smears his fingers with the pre-ejaculate that’s spilling from Jin, and starts spreading it across the entire pulsating length. He uses it to slide easier against the cock, mercilessly pumping it. A longer groan emanates from Jin as he struggles to keep up with Devil’s hand. His knees buckle, wanting to close in on each other, but he denies them.

Instead, Jin demands, "hnnnghh-!! More, Devil!! More, dammit - give me more!"

As Devil’s hand obliges and beats the cock as fast as possible, Jin can feel his climax developing below his abdomen, feeling as though it’s growing more and more, threatening to detonate. The room around him spins, furniture and various decorations blurring before his eyes, so Jin shuts them tight.

"Ah-close, close!! It's so close!! Come on," Jin hissed, "come on!"

Although he’s the one being stimulated, Jin swears he can hear grunts from the Devil. He must be getting a little too excited by the noises and heat emitting from him. His other hand departs from Jin’s chest and lowers itself. Again, feeling its way until going below his shaft, and cupping the balls, fondling them.

Jin falls and trashes in the bed, his teeth clenching but failing to keep out his moans. His chest rises in waves as his breathing hitches, and his eyes remain shut. The feeling in his abdomen has grown too large and now reached the point of detonation.

"Devil-!!"

Despite how madly his cock shakes in his hand, Devil doesn’t slow down. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck-!! Devil, I can’t-” His entire length pulses and erupts with cum. Shooting one large load after another, blanketing Devil’s fingers, as well as making a mess of the bed. Not that Jin’s in the state to be concerned with that.

Finally, the Devil stops all movement as the last bit of cum dribbles out. He moves away, placing both his hands on Jin’s stomach. He can feel it rippling as Jin tries to catch his breath again.

“Ah... ah...” Maybe a devil is good for something, Jin thinks in jest but keeps to himself. He wanted to ask for his arms back, but Devil’s tenderly tracing lines in his abdomen, and it’s too pleasant to end.

They can rest. It’s not as if they have anything planned for the day, anyway.

[demonsfate]

Even though Jin was generous enough to grant Abaddon a few hours of freedom each day, Abaddon never ventured far from their home in Yakushima. He would sometimes go deeper in the woods, seeking solitude from where he’d expect to encounter nobody but animals. Thanks to Kazuya’s machinations, humanity now knew about demons, &, for obvious reasons, society condemned devils. Abaddon avoided frightening people or causing pandemonium by appearing in public. Although he could disguise himself as a human, he refrained from doing so. It didn’t feel right using Jin’s appearance after framing him for a plethora of war crimes.

So, Abaddon stayed indoors, immersing himself in human culture through television. That's what he was currently doing. He sat cross - legged on the floor in front of an illuminated screen, absorbing the news. Gas prices were rising, which mattered little to him. Violent Systems was releasing an update to the Combot series, & a movie franchise was getting its 45th sequel. Abaddon hadn’t seen the others yet.

Despite the news being largely irrelevant to him, Abaddon found it fascinating. It offered a window into the world, revealing what has preoccupied the humans. He enjoyed himself, with a cat purring in his lap ( forgive him, Jin had 5 other cats & Abaddon couldn’t remember this one’s name ) & an empty, greasy plastic wrapper that once contained deli - slice ham lying beside him.

But Abaddon’s enjoyment waned as the news shifted from entertainment to current world affairs. Over a year had passed, yet the world was still suffering from the Mishima Zaibatsu’s warfare. Images of ruined cities & homeless people, victims of the Zaibatsu’s relentless assaults, all flashed on the screen. The sight felt surreal, like he was experiencing a dream ( or, more accurately, a nightmare ) unfolding before him. Despite knowing he was at fault for this tragedy, Abaddon found it hard to believe in that moment.

He recalled the hatred that filled his heart. How he refused to give humankind a chance, viewing them as inferior creatures, pests that polluting the earth who were in a dire need of extermination. How he had wanted to rule over them as a wrathful God, slowly killing them as a punishment for alleged sins. What sins ? Abaddon couldn’t really answer that. His feelings had been driven by instincts from the true God who had created him. He was once God’s wrath. Yet, that chapter in his life now felt distant, as if it had only occurred in a twisted imagination.

Watching the news was a stark reminder that it all had transpired, & he was solely responsible for killing thousands & thousands out of rage & delusions of divinity. As he saw locations in desperate need of reconstruction, his heart shattered into tiny pieces, its shards stabbing his insides with a burning ache. He longed for nothing more than to help people now, but how could he, when he had been the one to rain hellfire down ?

His hand reached out to the TV screen with a stubborn tremble he cannot cease. His sharp talons clacked against the glass. Then a woman appeared, middle - aged & worn down by stress. “My husband,” she spoke, voice strangled by tears, “my husband wasn’t even a soldier in the war. He was a truck driver, & - & the Zaibatsu had ordered an airstrike while he was . . . ” her voice drifted away, & her face suddenly blurred within his vision. He pulled back after experiencing a sensation that soaked his own cheeks.

Abaddon was crying. This poor woman would never see her husband again because of him. There were children who lost families, there were grooms who lost brides, brothers who lost sisters, century old homes that were torn down. Suffering filled the world, & humankind wasn’t the culprit.

He was.

Seeing a face of a victim reminded him of the countless like her. There were so many that Abaddon’s brain lacked the capacity to remember every single one, even if he met them all. A cruel reminder of how monstrous he once was. But he couldn’t be that monster again; he would NEVER be that monster again. Abaddon couldn’t fathom causing such tragedy again. He couldn’t even bear the thought of it without feeling ill.

His hand moved away from the TV to wipe at the tears running down his face, the jagged edges of his demonic palms scrape his cheek, making it a painful red.

A part of him wanted to wake Jin, let him take control of the body again because Abaddon questioned whether he deserved this freedom. Another part of him, however, believed he should watch the consequences of his actions.

His glistening, golden eyes stayed locked on the screen after deciding to continue watching, occasionally blinking to regain clear vision. The cat in his lap leapt off, scampering away to likely find food, or play with another feline.

The news announced an upcoming special regarding the war in a half hour, seemed like he'll be here, alone, for a while . . .

[demonsfate]

‵ Alright, Abaddon, you see the target, yeah ? ′

❝ Yeah. ❞

It's an unfortunate tree that had been uprooted by last week's storms. Dead & without purpose, it is the ideal subject to test his telekinesis on.

Abaddon's talons outstretch, & his bright, golden eyes narrow in concentration. Despite his focused effort, the tree refuses to budge. Frustration begins boiling within him, a bitter reminder of his current limitations. With a snarl, Abaddon withdraws his hand, then thrusts it forward again, as if that will actually help.

It doesn't.

❝ Come on, come on . . . ❞ He mutters through clenched teeth, shutting his eyes tightly to block out everything but the tree. The strain brings a sharp pain in his head, but he ignores it, growling in determination.

‵ Okay, Abaddon, you can stop now, ′ Jin's voice resonated in his head. He senses Abaddon's growing discomfort, it's taking a toll on him, too. Abaddon, however, refuses to listen, too driven by a need to prove his worth.

‵ Abaddon, I said - ′

❝ GrrrrRRRRAAAAAGHHH - ! ! ❞

After all that exertion, the tree merely raises a foot from the ground . . . only to crash back down. Abaddon opens his eyes, lowering his hand in disappointment. He stares at his failure for a moment, feeling a bit dazed to do much of anything else, feeling too distracted by the racing thoughts of inadequacy that swarms his head.

❝ Sorry . . . I guess I'm still too weak. ❞ It's been months since the battle with True Devil Kazuya, yet he still hasn't fully recovered from the clash.

‵ It's fine. Maybe you'll get it next week. For now, let's go back home, ′ Jin reassures, his voice showing a peculiar gentleness. For some reason, Abaddon's chagrin is bothering him. Perhaps because he can feel it so strongly. Or maybe it's because Abaddon has been nicer to him lately. Regardless, it's an ache Jin wishes to ease.

Nodding, Abaddon turns around to leave.

❝ Mm . . . I'll get it eventually . . . ❞

[demonsfate]

The small child rises from the bed of grass with an expression of perplexity. Jin recalled laying in the woods nearby his home to rest after a long day of playing, but this doesn’t look like Yakushima anymore. Yes, the surroundings resemble it, but the colors are… off. The grass was no longer green, but of a more blue hue. The skies are purple, but unlike the ones during sunset. Green and red clouds grace this unique sky, along with his toys that float without reason. What’s more unusual is that when looks ahead, he sees nothing instead of distant trees along the skyline. As if the world cuts off there.

Though Jin knows this isn’t his home, he’s overwhelmed by familiarity.

Then he turns around to the sudden sound of patter against the grass. Before the realization could hit him, somebody else did.

Somebody who tackled him at great speed. Stubby limbs flail about until both bodies crash to the ground, sending blades of purple grass to flutter in the air. Jin now understands what’s happening, and who attacked him.

It’s his buddy!

Sometimes when Jin sleeps, he skips dreaming and instead enters this strange world with little logic and nobody else, except for one kid. A kid who looks like his replica; except for those sharp, steel-like talons for hands, their skin that’s an ashen color and cool to the touch, their eyes an illuminating red, two small black wings, tiny nubs for horns, an odd red shape slapped on their forehead, and black ink across their face in a design he couldn’t understand. Jin wonders if they’re a secret sibling who can only communicate through the dreamworld, if they're a clone, or maybe a shapeshifter?! Jin hasn’t a clue because this kid doesn’t actually talk. They yell, grunt, growl, and laugh, which is what they’re doing now.

Jin paps his palm against the other kid’s head in iteration, trying to get them off him. “Hey, hey, hey!” He squeaked but the kid won’t yield, too excited to see him. Jin attempts to remove the kid only causes the pair to roll around in the grass, leading to what the pair always does; wrestling with each other. The children keep lightly smacking each other, the nameless kid roars with laughter, meanwhile Jin remains determined. Although his face lacks a smile, he’s having a blast, and the other knows this.

Just when Jin is about to give up, the kid suddenly stands, wings flapping. They giggle mischievously and run without uttering a word. Jin follows along, as this is another game they play; after wrestling, they enjoy a game of tag. It’s fun, but sometimes annoying. Whenever Jin’s hand is within reach, the kid uses their wings to take a great leap. The Kid keeps doing this until Jin’s frustration gets the best of him. He jumps after them, and it ends up being a wise decision. Just barely, he catches hold of their form. Again, they both meet the ground.

Despite falling, the kid keeps laughing, albeit softer. Jin keeps his arms around the kid, but now turning it into a hug. Jin’s never good with words. He didn’t start talking more until a couple of years ago. And this kid? This kid didn’t talk either, and Jin didn’t mind. They needn’t words, anyway. Playing, watching the sky change, that’s everything they need.

“Jin? Jin!”

However, their fun ends whenever he wakes up. The kid never likes it, but they seem to hate it when his mother’s the one to wake him. Her voice makes them jump in an instant. “Hey, it’s okay.” Jin tries to urge, but they won’t listen. They’re already fleeing like a deer hearing gunshots. Jin has no time to catch up with them before his eyes open to the image of his mother, who’s giving him a gentle lecture about being late for dinner. As he stands, she takes his hand to guide him. Jin wonders if one day he should tell his mother about his dream pal, yet when he opens his mouth, the words refuse to come out.

Maybe some other day.

[demonsfate]

Moonlit Wilderness

She stepped among the ancient stones. Broken walls of ruin towered over her. Asuka pondered the abbey’s age. Could it be hundreds of years old? Maybe even thousands? The question, and surroundings, had her in awe. As a city girl, she’s never been in anything like it. The moon’s rays peaked through the gaps and shone upon her, as though an angel was making her the star on life’s stage just for tonight. It’s an experience she couldn’t quite find the words to describe other than one; surreal.

But she couldn’t allow beauty to distract her from the tournament that’s still ongoing; The King of Iron Fist 5. She’s impressed she made it thus far. Of course, she’s always been confident in her abilities. But some fighters she's faced seemed to be born for battle, as if their lives revolved solely around exchanging blows. Asuka wondered who her next opponent will be. Then her large brown eyes caught the answer.

"Jin...?"

He’s merely standing in the near distance. His face obscured where the moon’s light failed to reach it. He appeared stiff, and if she didn’t know any better, she would’ve assumed he’s part of this ancient structure.

With great perplexity, her knuckles hit her hips, and she tilted her head inquisitively. “What are you doing here? Didn’t Hwoarang defeat you already?’

"My power has surpassed even yours."

His sudden response took her aback. Asuka struggled to find an appropriate response to that. What do you say to such a bizarre statement? She laughed to hide her nervousness. “Power? What are you-“

A mighty wind cut her off short. It felt as though a hurricane had just came through, and has now blown her out of the old abbey. She screamed until her body crashed through a bed of flowers; the collision caused many to soar as she once did. After a second of resting on her back, she tried to rise despite the ache that’s beating on her muscles. Her eyes twitched, then opened, and above her was a winged figure. It resembled her cousin, who was just in the abbey as she was, but not the same. The color was draining from his complexion and fast, turning himself into an ashen gargoyle. Large, sharp horns that point outwards sprouted from the sides of his skull. Odd, black markings inked his chest and face. Any other person would’ve thought they were tattoos, somewhat similar to the one on Jin’s left arm. His arms were unfathomable; with a single glance, one can see they weren’t soft like a human’s skin. No, they were hard, dark red, and jagged. They looked almost wooden. Sharpened bones jut from his elbows. But then there were his eyes, there were possibly three of them, an odd teardrop shape that glowed bright red, and the pair where you’d expect to find eyes on a face were a luminous white, much like the moon he hovered in front of. His pitch black wings kept him in the sky.

Squinting her eyes at the beast before her, Asuka reached a conclusion, “you’re not...” but she wouldn’t finish it after noticing that third eye glowing brighter and brighter. Not wanting to stay and figure out what will transpire from it, she rolled and narrowly missed a red, hot laser that blasted from it and hit right where she was resting, killing more flowers.

Asuka stood up in the rain of dead flowers, realizing whatever this thing was in place of her cousin, it might just kill her. She can see the displeasure on his face. He had hoped the laser would burn her, but she disappointed him by keeping his hopes up for nothing. The beast bent one leg and stretched out the other. As fast as a barreling missile, he lunged right toward her. Asuka evaded the kick with two backflips.

Her lungs asked for time to breathe, but she denied their request. Instead, she sprinted to the creature and threw a punch at his face. Then another one, and another, and another, and - every punch misses, not even coming close. It’s as if the creature can predict her every movement, and he’ll always be faster than she. But to Asuka, that wasn’t even the most unsettling thing about him. It’s the overwhelming aura he possessed. She sensed it in Jin earlier in the tournament, but now it was engulfing. Was this what consumed her cousin?

"I don't know what you did to him - but you're gonna give Jin back now!!"

Could he take her demand seriously when she failed to land a single hit on him? She swapped punches for kicks, lifting her body from the grassy lands to throw her leg right at his chin - he caught it midair. She gasped and hissed at the sharp talons that puncture her skin, suddenly something hot and uncomfortably sticky ran down her leg; blood spilling from the fresh wounds. He hurled her body as if she was nothing more than a sack of feathers to him, but she crashed to the ground again with the weight of a cinderblock.

How could this monster possess such great strength...? She thought as she groaned, trying to get back on her feet. The memories of her and Jin as children came to her mind in this moment. Her father never visited his sister often, as they were in two separate parts of Japan. But when he did, she’d meet up with her cousin. She was 6, and he was 10. Yet despite their differences in age, their parents always found it impressive by how she could still knock him off his feet. It would embarrass him, but brought her great pride. These memories used to be a pleasant trip. Right now, they feel like they’re here to haunt her.

This wasn’t the same Jin from back then, and this wasn’t friendly sparring between family. Just when she thought she’d find her grounding again, he knocked her over the head with a hard, steel-like fist. He forcefully kicked her every time she attempted to stand until her body had to decide to give up for her.

Weakly, she glanced up at him. “Give Jin... give Jin back.” It was supposed to be a demand, but it came out as a plea. He didn’t respond to it, though. He went forward by crouching to her, and he raised his hand, readying to end her misery. Then...

He dropped it.

“It’s over,” he finally said, with a voice that wasn’t Jin’s. It was much deeper, more sinister. “And it’ll all be over soon enough.”

The creature rose and turned around to walk away. “No,” Asuka said, “it’s... not over... it’s... bring back Jin. You can’t go, bring back..." she gasped as she lifted her chest from the flowers. "Jin, please come back...” she whispered, then slipped back and darkness enveloped everything.

[demonsfate]

He felt sick, like something rotten was swirling all his guts around; sloshing and causing them to become twisted. Droplets of perspiration sprouted on his flushed face. It seemed the drab walls of this long hall were closing in and crushing his already fatigued muscles. His legs took action to find a nearby bathroom to isolate himself. Those legs, however, were failing. His body was too heavy and tipped over. He leaned against the wall for support as he ventured to his destination. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, a sharp, burning sensation ignited in his head. Specifically on the side. The flesh was sundering, and the nub of a horn was forcing its way out against his will. He covered his aching head with his free hand to ease the pain and hide his transmuting body. They must not know.

Eddy from across the hall noticed his boss’ unstable condition. He attempted to ask if he’s okay. “Yes, I just need to go to the restroom for a minute,” Jin strained.

With Eddy backing off, Jin swung the bathroom’s door open. Before entering, he slipped the heavy jacket off his shoulders and allowed it to meet the cool floor with no concerns. Afterward, he slammed the door shut and locked it behind him. In a stumble, he almost tripped, but swiftly caught the edge of the sink to recompose himself.

Wearily, his head rose, and he gazed upon his reflection in the mirror. But it wasn’t really his reflection, was it? No. All he saw was somebody else’s face, the original host of this form. DAMN IT! This was supposed to be his body. Azazel gave it to him, just how he gave Jin Kazama's life to him as well. But The Devil’s staring persisted, unable to make himself out. It was as though a ghost haunted him. He wanted to look away, but couldn’t. The voices in his head were too distracting and booming. You’re doing magnificent, my puppet. You serve me well, my puppet. You are everything I was expecting, my puppet - PARASITE, PARASITE, PARASITE, PARASITE - PARASITEPARASITEPARASITE!!!

The Devil was growing overwhelmed by an assault of emotions, unsure how to handle them or the voices. This was the source of his nausea: He was a feral wolf acting as though he’s a domesticated dog. At first, he may resemble one, but the facade falls apart quick.

Everything became too much. He couldn’t stand that face glaring at him, trying to guilt him, demanding for control again, to take away all he suffered for.

The Devil withdrew his fist and smashed the mirror, too harrowed to acknowledge the tiny shards that pierced into his skin. His wide, frenzied eyes confronted the floor, hoping for relief. But even in those small fragments, the images of Jin Kazama and Azazel mock him.

puppet parasite puppet parasite puppet parasite puppet parasite puppet parasite

His fist clenched until his knuckles went pale and blood emanated from fresh wounds. The droplets leave and hit the pieces of glass, obscuring some faces.

"I'll KILL YOU -- I'LL KILL YOU BOTH!! Then I won't be anything but MYSELF!!"

[demonsfate]

Usually I get really shy about my drabbles and I end to be embarrassed reading them later after, usually noticing ways I could've written something better. But honestly? I really like this one a lot.

Although, this one was written when I thought DJ was "gone" - because I had assumed that Jin can control his powers in the same way that Kazuya can control his own Devil's - by merging/taking them. I wanted to write a detailed scene of something similar happening, but a little more emotional and really getting into how such a thing would affect both minds of the two within. I think I wrote this listening to "Staff Roll" from the first Tekken Tag Tournament on repeat.

The reason why I wanted to dig this up is because, even though this was written before we knew much about Tekken 8, I did write that Jin's mind wasn't a beautiful place - although, unlike T8, I depicted it more as a very dark, void like place - with locations popping up when convenient. (A tournament arena here, for example. Why I picked one was because this was actually envisioned as a smaller part of something else, but that would take a lil longer to explain and I just wanted to really write this scene.) However, I did write that after Jin finally had power over DJ, his mind starts blossoming again with life.

Anyway, since Devil's still around since Jin's a fucking loser, we can say this is just a "what if" scenario :')

broken wings...

It was as though the final blow had rippled through the atmosphere and evoked an earthquake. As the wall of the tournament's arena commenced its quivering, and afore them, the walls were brought down in a loud crumble. Everything around the pair was plummeting down, and yet it all managed to miss them miraculously. And as the debris rest upon the vacant, pure black ground, they gradually faded from existence. And in its place, luscious, verdant blades of grass began to spring to life. Soon followed were bushes, flowers, vegetation. A blue sky spilled and painted the nothingness and large, flourishing trees sprouted to provide shade from the hot sun. After years of drab, this place was finally vibrant and abundant with life once more.

Jin Kazama stood in disbelief at the sight before him - it felt like a dream - and that was what's most bizarre to him. He hadn't experienced a dream in years, either. It was all only nightmares which filled this heavy head of his. The sunbeams that peaked through leaves welcomed Jin into a loving, warm embrace. And the grass below his feet was soft, but pleasantly tickled between his bare toes. This beauteous, much earned victory caused him to forget he wasn't quite finished yet. Jin glanced down, away from the trees, and saw the Devil pathetically crawling away - wings lowered like a dog with its tail behind its back. Jin trudged toward him.

The Devil understood Jin was coming after him - he could feel Jin's overwhelming force. Devil hopped in a futile endeavor to lift off to the skies. But only one wing flapped as the other had been fractured in combat. He grunted loudly as he crashed into the ground, his face landing right in the dirt. Spit, spit. Jin was drawing closer, and it actually startled the Devil - for once in his life, he was genuinely afraid, for he knew what was inevitable. He needn't breathe, yet to Devil, it felt as though he was out of breath. His bones ached, limbs begging for relaxation, and deep down, there was this realization that he no longer had any fight in him left. But still, the desperate need for survival gnawed at those exhausted muscles. In his severe panic, he leaped higher - and it only caused him to crash harder with an even harsher yelp. Jin ceased all movement - the Devil wasn't going anywhere, that much is obvious at this point. And maybe it was too cruel to play around with him as though the Devil's a wounded mouse, and he was the sadistic feline. Even if the Devil may deserve it for all he put the world through.

With an agonized groan, the Devil turned on his back to look up at Jin with horror in those lustrous, white eyes. 

"I've saved your life! I've saved your life many times!" He cried out in defense. 

"And then you took it," Jin retorted coldly. 

"You'll die without me. Time has proven that again and again! You NEED me, Jin! You need me!"

"I don't need you. I never did."

Jin's hefty legs crouched over Devil's body, and stared at him. In an attempt to retain existence, the Devil weakly swiped his sharp talons at Jin, who instantly caught his wrist and jerked it away. Jin's own hand then landed upon Devil's chest - and he shoved it through him. There was no gore, it's as if the Devil was nothing but a mere ghost. He couldn't even move, although he wanted to. Only his back arched as the rest of his body went thoroughly stiff. "I just needed your powers," Jin added. Then - echoed, bloodcurdling screams filled the gorgeous surroundings. And they won't end as his own form slowly dissipated - starting from his limbs.

It was almost too much for Jin, and he had to snap his eyes shut. His own spirit was consuming everything the Devil had possessed. But that wasn't the source of Jin's pained expression. No, in some messed up way, it was the Devil's screaming that brought forth his perturbation. Jin had loathed his Devil more than anything. An unforgivable, irredeemable, uncaring beast that had ruined his life, and thousands' more. The sole reason why he couldn't live amongst the humans. But Jin had spent years with him, every single day, nonstop. There was always someone to talk to when he was alone - even if those conversations were always of contempt arguments. Could arguing be considered superior to loneliness?

His ears blocked out the Devil's cries, and instead he tried all he can to focus solely on the power that's coursing through him now. After the rush of it had finished, Jin determined it was over and once again revealed his eyes to the world - his world. The Devil was gone, nothing but himself now. This victory should be one that's celebrated. But it was far too early for any parties. Jin knew there was more work to be done.

Thus, his eyes opened again. This time they were greeted to the real world. His body rose from the medical bed. His first few steps were wobbly, and he had to ground himself by leaning on to the cold wall for support. Once he rediscovered his composure, the destined child noticed the new strength he carried - more than he had ever before. It was almost stressful. But there was no time to think about that. Now, he'll get dressed and finally depart from this building - they were waiting for him...

[demonsfate]

It’s 14:00 in Japan, Tokyo. The sky is an ocean of blue, and there isn’t a single cloud to be spotted. While it is a rather warm day, a gentle breeze blessed everyone outside. It seems to be the perfect day despite such dire times. That is, until there he is, coming speeding on his bike in broad daylight, the most wanted man in the world: Jin Kazama. It has been three months since he’s declared war on the entire world for reasons nobody can truly explain. As the powerful leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu, he has already conquered several nations. So, he has a rather recognizable appearance - even if he is driving at great speeds. So, it didn’t take live television to bring out the cameras, and start broadcasting him. And shortly came after, are soldiers of the United Nations in their vehicles, and helicopters.

“Has he lost his fucking mind?!” One UN soldier belligerently questions as he watches Jin from the helicopter. 

“He’s lost his mind when he started this war,” quips another, which illicit a third soldier to pass on a dirty look.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” the third one in the back says, “this must be a trap.”

But the soldiers keep thinking about if Kazama was dead, then that would escalate the end to this war. It’s a chance they are willing to take - even if there may be causalities in the crossfire. With some hesitation, they begin to shoot at their target.

And they miss every time - hitting cars, instead.

“Have you guys lost your minds?! Why aren’t you hitting him?! He’s RIGHT THERE!” The third one questions, obviously growing frantic.

“We had it right on him, but then the guns - they went in another direction! The controls - they must be malfunctioning!”

The men below in the vehicles are having the same, coincidental, rotten luck. Every time they shoot their guns, their grip is suddenly jerked by some unexplained force, and they shoot away from their target.

An amused smirk slithers on Jin’s face as he continues driving as if it’s a normal day. This isn’t no coincident. It’s always a massive headache to utilize his telekinesis, especially in such great measures. All the pain is worth it to prove a point: all these soldiers are powerless against him. And that point is starting to get across as civilians back at home intently observe the live broadcasts on their bright screens. As they watch with horror, and hold their loved ones. They wonder why their supposed heroes are so incompetent. Some screaming at their televisions in frustration as more innocent cars are hit.

Another helicopter lowers itself, dangerously low. The logo screams who it belongs to; The Mishima Zaibatsu. Jin easily spots it, and revs up his bike to maximum speed. Effortlessly avoiding all the obstacles in traffic, Jin finds a solution when he catches sight of an empty car carrier ahead of him. His wheels practically slide right off it, and suddenly he’s soaring through the sky - higher than the jump should’ve allowed him. Finally, the UN’s helicopter can shoot properly - but since Jin isn’t there anymore, the fire hits the car carrier instead, and it instantly erupts into flames. Jin, however, safely makes it into his own helicopter. Keeping that wicked smirk on his face, he salutes to the opposing helicopter. 

“That bastard...!” The UN soldier curses seconds before their helicopter explodes with no given reason..

There’s another person keeping a keen eye on the broadcast, in a dim lit office. The CEO of G-Corp, the enemy of Mishima Zaibatsu, Kazuya Mishima. He watches with his arms crossed, not entertained one bit by the spectacle before him. Instead, he sneers at what he sees. The man who once sought to kill him in order to save the world... Jin Kazama, he thinks to himself, you are weaker than I had thought. 

“Sir,” an employee spoke, trying to hide the quiver in his voice, “the UN soldiers couldn’t be that incompetent. Just what are we going up against?!”

“Whatever it is,” Kazuya turns around, “it’s no longer my son.”

[demonsfate]

“Hello, sir. Did you want to see me?” Alisa asks, seating herself on the chair opposite to her boss, Jin. He sits there, as usual, his cheek resting upon his fist. For a short moment, the room is filled with awkward silence. Jin glowering at her, and Alisa still wearing a polite, albeit mechanical, smile.

Jin finally breaks this horrible silence, “neither of us are human. Why betray me to devote yourself to them?”

Unbothered, Alisa answers sweetly, “oh, I’ll always pick them over you.”

This only frustrates the Devil more. His teeth clench, and he rises from his seat. His hands slam so hard against the table, it rocks. Alisa remains unbothered, sitting straight with her hands neatly in her lap. “WHY. Why couldn’t you -”

“You may think we’re superior to humans, but I disagree. What is all our power if we cannot process emotions other than hatred and rage? If we cannot love? If we cannot understand the griefs of others? If we cannot share our lives with others?”

“We could’ve ruled the world together. Had you not-”

“Cease talking. Don’t act like you ever cared about me.”

And the pretender falls silent, looking at his creation to mull over her words. Or, maybe he was wondering why he even ordered that damned doctor to create such a thing. “... Do you really think that?”

“No,” Alisa shakes her head but only once, “I know that. Because you can’t feel love. And that will be your downfall, Devil. Everyone’s love for the living, and the dead, will overpower you. And you can’t comprehend why or how.”

“Thank you,” Jin says, and Alisa curiously tilts her head. Jin finishes, “thank you for reminding me how much I fucking hate you. Get out of my sight. You’re dismissed.”

Alisa stands, and leisurely walks away with that gentle smile which had never left her face. When she reaches the doorframe, she glances back to Jin, “good luck, sir, you’re going to need it.”