#sans is thinking ''oh no i barely survived this the first time''

[jeonginslefthand]

More please ♡🩸

Pairing: Vampire!BangChan x Reader Genre: Suggestive (18+. minors/ageless blogs do not interact <3)/Thriller Word count: 2.0k+ Summary: You caught Chan in the middle of his midnight activities, marking the start of an unexpected relationship.  Warnings: Kidnapping mentioned, grinding, biting, blood (lots of it), small mentions of depression A/N: Railway MV has made me feral and I had an idea. Also hope writing this will cure my writer's block for the San series cause I'm struggling rn. This is more of a drabble and [mostly] proofread. Hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Stray kids masterlist

~~~

“I need more~”

It hurts when Chan bites into your neck. You expected some pain, but not a pain like this. It stings and there’s an ache you can’t begin to describe. But it feels somewhat arousing. Chan on top breathing heavily as he is sucking the life out of you makes you feel something in your core. You forget for a moment that his teeth are sunk in your veins as the agonizing pain turns into pleasure. 

It’s hard to say how you got here in the first place. You and Chan had been acquainted since he moved to your neighborhood a few years ago. Nothing he did ever tipped you off that he could be hiding this secret. And Chan had been careful to keep this secret too. Surviving off animal blood, only feasting on human flesh when he needs to. He was sure he would never get caught. Until last night when you decided to take the shortcut path on your nightly walk and stumbled upon the area where Chan does his bidding. You were frozen in fear unsure what to do as Chan looked at you. So he did what any vampire in hiding would. He took you back to his hideout away from the world until he could figure out his next move. 

And here you are, under him as he’s making up for his interrupted midnight snack. By now he feels he sufficiently made up for the interruption and slowly removes his teeth from your neck. You feel that stinging pain again and feel a bit faintish. You see out the corner of your eye blood dripping from the two fresh holes. Gross yet arousing at the same time. Chan notices and licks up the excess blood as if he wants to savor your taste. You feel another jolt of pain, but Chan massaging the area with his tongue helps to ease the pain and turns it into more pleasure. 

“Your blood tastes so sweet~” Chan growls as he licks the remaining blood and pulls away from you. “I swear I could drink this forever.” 

It sure felt like he was going on forever. You even forgot that he did kidnap you and that the bodies of his previous victims surrounded you. Coming back to reality the fear returns to you wondering if that is your fate. 

“C-Chan… I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. A-and you can have all the blood you want just please let me go.” You mutter out on the verge of tears. 

“Oh I will have all the blood I want, 'cause you’re not leaving here,” Chan responds smiling, baring his sharp teeth now covered in blood. You flinch for a moment thinking he’s going back in for seconds. Chan notices and chuckles in response. 

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t hurt you more than I need to. It would be a shame if you died on me.”

~~~

Despite the situation, Chan is pretty gentle with you. Aside from the blood-sucking sessions, he makes sure you’re well taken care of. You find out that the place you’ve been taken to was a castle, somewhere far off in the mountains. You slowly fall in love with the gothic architecture exploring a new room each day. You even have your room, decorated head to toe in the dark gothic aesthetic with a soft queen-sized bed made just for you. 

Chan cooks for you every night. At first, you refused to eat the meals, still in fear of what he could do and barely working up an appetite. After a few days of the act, Chan got annoyed and one day took matters into his own hands. 

“Come on sweetie, if you don’t eat your blood won’t pump properly and you’ll be weak.” Chan calmly says as he forces a piece of chicken into your mouth. You try your hardest to resist but his vampire strength overpowers you. Tears well up in your eyes and fall on your plate. You want to spit the chicken out but you can’t bring yourself to it as Chan stares at you intensely, wiping the tears away from your cheek. 

“Aww don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay. The chicken tastes good right?” Chan coos and you nod in response. 

“Good. Then swallow~” Chan commands.

You hesitate for a moment but reluctantly swallow. The chicken wasn’t bad, but you still feel a lump in your throat. You want your body to reject the food so badly but you also hadn’t eaten for days and knew that eventually you would have to give in. 

Chan feeds you the rest of the chicken and side dishes. This was the only way you were going to eat for that night, still in fear that he could do much worse. After that day you stopped refusing to eat knowing that Chan wouldn’t hesitate to force-feed you again. You two started having somewhat normal dinners. Chan would talk about his day and sometimes the drama going on at his day job and you would talk about the room you explored that day and your thoughts. Sometimes he would talk about his past life, his experiences, and what it was like being the way he is. These deeper talks made you more intrigued about him. He was slowly peeling back layers revealing his true nature, showing there was some humanity left in those eyes. 

~~~ 

Of course, Chan would still get a taste of your blood now and then. Biting in the same spot, careful not to take too much that you faint, but enough to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. You got used to the pain and a part of you almost looked forward to these sessions. The pure ecstasy you felt with Chan on top and pressed against you as you were helpless under him, you almost didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more from him. 

One time you decided to make a bold request to Chan at dinner.

“I want you to suck my blood tonight,” you stated clearly. Chan nearly chokes on his food shocked that you’re taking the initiative this time. 

“Y/N, I appreciate the offer and you know I would love that. But I’m fine it’s only been a week.” Chan responds.  

“But I want you to! I need that feeling of you sinking your teeth into me. It’s addicting and I want more of it!” 

Chan gets up and walks over to your seat and leans towards you. 

“I have a better idea sweetie~,” Chan says. 

“And what is that?” you respond, desperate for him to do something. Anything.

Chan leans in closer and presses his lips into yours. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate kissing him back. The same feeling of desire is felt between both of you, but more intense than when Chan is stealing your blood. Eventually, you stand up and push him on the table (well, more like he lets you) kissing him deeper and with a passion you’ve never felt. The air feels warm around you, savoring Chan’s taste while your mind’s on cloud 9. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about this. Wondering what his lips would feel like in other areas of your body besides the sensitive vein of your neck. 

The burning desire in your core doesn’t settle down and you instinctively grind on Chan’s thigh to get some kind of relief. Chan doesn’t notice drunk on his desire for you, but eventually, he pulls away and places his hands on your hips. 

“Feeling a bit needy today I see~” Chan teases. 

“Oh you have no idea,” you say shakily, catching your breath.

Chan starts to respond with a witty joke but you sink back into his lips before he responds. You kiss him harder than the first time and the desire builds up in your core harder. The room feels it’s on fire as you and Chan feel each other’s hot breaths and as you continue to grind his thigh. Chan gets so lost in your soft moans that he doesn’t notice his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He presses on your lips harder and his fangs accidentally sink into your lip as you yelp in pain. Shocked by your scream, Chan quickly pulls away from you, but also accidentally knocks over a plate in the process remember that the two of you were making out on the dinner table. 

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry!” Chan says concerned, caressing your lip. The blood quickly drips down from your mouth covering the lower half of your face. 

“Chan I’m fine! It didn’t hurt but it was shocking. Maybe… warn me next time,” you respond with a witty tone. 

“Funny. But still, don’t want you to lose too much blood.” Chan leans towards your lips again and starts licking up the blood starting from your chin and ending with your bottom lip. He passionately licks every last drop like it’s the last he’ll ever get your blood. 

“Say… why don’t we continue this somewhere else,” Chan suggests as he pulls away from you. You look at him hazy with lust and out of the corner of your eye notice a certain desire growing in his pants.

“I think that’s a great idea love~”     

~~~

After that erotic night, it felt like time slowed down living with Chan. You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here. Maybe a couple of months? A little under a year? In your mind, you knew you had to go back to your old life, back to your friends and family. They have probably been looking for you. But in your heart, you didn’t care. Nothing in your life mattered anymore except Chan and his twisted love for you. You would give anything to be with him, to stay with him forever. 

One night as the two of you cuddled in bed, you suddenly brought up another proposition. 

“Channie, do you think you can… turn me into a vampire?” you ask suddenly. 

“W-what?!” Chan says, taken aback. 

“I-It’s just an idea. I’ve seen it done a lot in vampire shows. But knowing what I know about you now I don’t know how accurate that is. And I realize that you’re the only one I want to be with for a long time and it would suck dying knowing you would still live on forever…” 

Chan is silent processing your request. You give him some time and then follow up with your statement.

“It’s okay if you can’t and I’m probably overthinking this. That’s so far ahead of us and I’m happy spending whatever time we have. I just love you so much and—”

“No no, I can turn you. It’s possible but… are you sure you want this?” Chan says cutting you off. “It’s a dangerous path to take. The constant bloodlust is not easy to control. And there are many days that there will be a numbing feeling you can’t get rid of. Constantly feeling empty and at some point feeling like life isn’t worth it is not something I want for you.”

“I don’t care if I spend the rest of my days hating the world. As long as I’m with you I won’t feel empty. Doesn’t matter if that’s 10 years or the next 1000 years, life with you will always have meaning!” 

Another moment of silence passes and Chan pulls you into his chest. He starts stroking your hair as he responds.

“There’s no talking you out of this is there?” Chan sighs. 

You giggle into his chest. “I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I can!~” 

Chan kisses your forehead. “Then, enjoy your last night being human love~”

You fall asleep into Chan’s arm as he drifts off to sleep. Who knew what the next years would look like for the two of you? You dream of all the potential adventures you two would go on, the lives you would live. It would be chaotic and messy, but that didn’t matter to you. In the end, you can call the man you once feared yours and you were his. And you couldn’t want anything more.

~~~

If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!

[sansofhumor]

just had a bug in my bonnet about kiddo papyrus haha. probably wont go anywhere with this but it’s a fun idea.

[froggybells]

Sign of the Times

Kyōjurō Rengoku x wife!reader

a/n: i am an angsty teenager and i need to write about this because it’s been on my mind (also spoilers ahead!!!)

word count: 1.3k

part 2 —> here!!

synopsis: after surviving the death of your husband and birth of your child, you were summoned out of retirement to the Ubuyashiki Mansion in order to train the next generation of demon slayers.

-

As you clung to your son, a tense feeling filled the room. You look down at his small face, no more than 11 months old, yet he’s already survived the loss of his father. Holding him tighter, you slowly made your steps towards the Uzui mansion.

“Suma! Maki! Hina!” You yelled out as you reached the door. Judging by the barreling footsteps coming towards you, your arrival was anticipated.

“KYAAAA!!!! Y/N-CHAN!!!” Suma jumped at you, with tears running down her face. Her movements were quickly halted by Makio, grabbing her by the back of her shirt. “Are you dumb or something?!” She screams at the other girl, “She’s holding her baby! You can’t just jump at her like that!” She scolds.

With all the fuss around you, your son, Ryuuji, begins to cry. “Oh nice going Maki, you made him cry!” Suma says, with more tears flowing down her face.

“Both of you hush!” Hina says in a whisper-yell. Gently caressing your sons face as he calms down, you finally spoke. “Thank you all for taking care of him while I head out,” you slowly bow, to which the three smile.

“Nonsense, Y/N-san!” Hina says cheerfully as she takes the boy from your arms. Just as she does, Tengen walks through the door.

“Y/N! I see you brought the boy! Is he ready to begin training?!” Tengen smiled. Hina protectively cradled the small child, “No!” She said, “He’s still a baby! He can barely walk!” You laughed.

“No Tengen, and I’ll be damned if you’re the first one to put a sword in my baby’s hand!” You swat at him playfully. As Hina went inside with the boy, he slowly but surely waved at you. His chubby little fingers waved around, and his eyes, just as bright as his fathers, gave you a sure smile.

“I can’t believe they called you and not me!” Tengen sulked. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, well I still have both my hands! I can fight if I need to!” “You don’t need to stoop so low!” He gritted.

Standing up straight, Tengen looks at you. “How are you holding up?” He asks, playing a (his only) hand on your shoulder.

You shrug. “As well as I can. Some days are harder than others. Senjuro is a great uncle. And Shinjuro stopped drinking ever since Ryu started walking. They’re all like triplets, it really does make me laugh sometimes.”

“Ever since Kyo died, it’s like there’s this pit in my stomach. I waited for him, y’know. I was up that whole night with a crying baby, staring out the window, waiting for him. I think Ryu knew when he died. Cause he went quiet for a while. Like he knew something was wrong. He was only 4 months old, and he could feel his father slipping away.” Your eyes began to tear up.

“I still wait for him sometimes. I’ll wait at the front door, and listen for his footsteps. Like this is all a nightmare. Like I’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll be there next to me like he always was.” You wiped your eyes as Tengen stared at you.

You both sighed.

“You are so strong Y/N. You always have been. You were the youngest Hashira. You survived that. You survived the death of your mother and siblings, you survived countless demons, you basically mastered Sun-Breathing, you pushed a whole freaking baby out of your lady bits!” You shoved him at that last part. “You’re surviving this right now. One day, your son will grasp the notion of what you have been through, and he, as well as everyone else, will know that you might just be the Strongest.”

-

“Man, why can’t I ever run into any upper ranks.” You hear Sanemi’s disappointed voice. “It’s probably your nasty attitude that they can sense.” You laugh as you walk into the room. A chorus of each Hashira speaking your name erupted.

“Y/N! You’re here?!” Mitsuri gleamed as she quickly rushed to hug you. Sanemi scoffed at your comment, “Look who showed up out of retirement spitting insults!”

“Y/N, you shouldn’t be here. Where is your son?” Gyomei said with tears in his eyes. “He is safe.” You reassure.

Everyone simply stared at you.

“It’s been 7 months guys, you can stop looking at me like I’m a wounded puppy.”

“No offense Y/N, but things like that don’t blow over so easy-” Giyuu began, but was cut short by Shinobu. “I think it is great that you’re out and about!”

The conversation was suddenly halted as the Masters wife entered the room.

-

“Good morning Kyo.” You smiled at the man laying next to you. His bright eyes beamed right back at your. “Hello my flame! Are you ready to take on the day?” You had been married for 3 years already and his enthusiasm never seemed to falter.

Each day he would look at you and shower you with praise as if it was his first time seeing you.

“I’ve been called away on a mission tonight.” He says, scooping up your son in his arms. The small boy grabs his fathers fingers, letting out a loud giggle. “I might let someone else handle it. Seeing as you are free tonight. Maybe some family time?” The small boy now went for his fathers hair, but the Flame Hashira just smiled.

“Kyo, I can’t ask you to do that. If you were chosen then that means it must be important.” You sighed, standing up and walking to your boys.

“Very well.” He said, pulling you into a tender embrace. One arm holding your son and the other holding you. “In two days time I shall be home,” he kissed your forehead, “Then we can have our family time”

You smiled. “In the meantime, you have other families to be saving.”

As he headed towards the door, he took one last look at you.

“Goodbye Y/N. I shall see you two soon. Don’t forget that I love you!”

“How could I every forget that?” You said. A hearty laughter escaped your husbands lips.

“See you soon, my family.”

[acciocriativity]

THE 'U' IN 'US' - AN ATEEZ SERIES - CHAPTER ONE

Summary: You weren't really the lonely girl™ of campus, but it does feel like it when you look around, and there's no one by your side when everyone else are talking and whispering between each other. You did have "friends", more like "group projet friends" that you managed to get for yourself, but they were the ones that were real close, you were there only when they had an extra empty seat. But it seems like the gods above took your nonchalant facade as a challenge. Oh, you don't think you need friends to survive through college? Bet.

Pairing: Non! idol OT8 ateez x reader (platonic)

Tags: college! au; hybrid! au; ateez! au; fluff (a whole lot of fluff and wholesomeness); angst; hurt/comfort; mentions of mistreatment and abuse.

WC: 2,2k

ZERO MASTERLIST TWO

Ateez Masterlist

“… project, how come you did not come to see it? Did you know that you’re walking with…”, Wooyoung was talking your ears off about his dance major while the nine of you walked out of the cafeteria, both of his hands around your right elbow as he walked with a skip on his steps.

It was an adorable sight if San was being honest with himself, but he was too afraid of being only a house of cards to enjoy the moment. He could only hear his own nervous heart and anxious thoughts. Usually, walking alongside of a hybrid could only be two things for a human: a burden or a prize, but he never felt like any of those things around you. Which made everything worse.

It’s been almost two hours and the right time never came. San felt his throat closing around the words anytime he brought himself to say it. He felt bad. Yes, he missed you and yes, you did so much for all of them, but if they didn’t have a clear goal in mind, he doubted he’d talk to you again. You reminded him of the old days when he needed you. Once again, he needs you, but he wished he didn’t.

I’m so fucking selfish, his brain kept telling him. He hated that he was there to only ask for a favor without anything to give in return, as if he’d have anything you already don’t.

“San?”, your voice woke him to the conversation again.

The moment he looked around, he noticed how you already were near the entrance of campus. His pack was also expecting an answer from him. They knew why he got so distracted all of a sudden, they could feel how heavy his heart was and could only imagine the thoughts running through his head.

“Sorry”, he forced a genuine smile and you waved it off his apology. “What did you say?”

“What are you thinking about? You seem a little lost in there”. Once again you give them an opportunity to tell you whatever they wanted to.

San’s mind froze. It was the perfect time, he could just ask then and there. What if you said no? What if you hate us for taking your time for nothing? What are we going to do then? Where are we going to go?

It was your turn to force a smile, they changed the topic anytime you got close to ask what they actually wanted. It was cute when they insisted the first time they just wanted to know how you were doing, so you let it go. But they seemed more anxious as the time went on, if Wooyoung’s nails extending and retreating rubbing against your arm was anything to go by.

“Can I help you guys with anything?”, their expressions were the answers that you needed to know. “What it is? Why don’t you just tell me?”

“We don’t want to bother you”, Yeosang said so fast you barely understood it. “We only, w-we…”, he sluttered as everyone eyes fell on him.

“We were going to find a way ourselves, but then we saw you and you are the only human we can trust to ask this”, Jongho interrupted, taking all the attention to himself and Yeosang hid behind him.

You nodded along, getting a little nervous yourself. If it was money it would be fine, but they seemed so tense you thought they got into some serious legal trouble and you were far from being a lawyer.

“Do you happen to know a safe place for us to stay?”, Hongjoong said the final words.

It was a strange sight to see Hongjoong being so indirect, so shy about something that he wanted, that was the last thing you expected from him for something so small to you.

But it wasn’t small for them.

As the seconds passed, the more anxious they seemed to get. Wooyoung couldn’t look at you, although he was still attached to you by the hip. The floor seemed much more interesting to him.

“I think I do, but Mingi mentioned an apartment, did something happen?”, you asked and everyone glared at Mingi in a subtle way.

It was clear Mingi himself didn’t remember to mention it. He had a silence discussion with them through his eyes only. The apartment was a sensitive topic and nobody else was supposed to know.

“It’s nothing you can do”, Seonghwa said after a long sigh. “Some nosy bitch found out that all of us lived there”.

“What’s the problem with that?”

“Only half of us are free hybrids”, Yunho informed as he crossed his arms in front of his body. Out of instinct he shrunk into himself because of those words.

“Oh, fucking stupid law”, you said the words in your mind and that earned you a couple of smiles from them. “A safe place, huh? Like a hybrid facility but better?”

Yunho scoffed at those two words, but agreed nonetheless. “Better would be great”.

But even the facilities were shutting down one by one, thanks to the years and years of protests against the mistreatment and down right abuse from those institutions. To find something better than wouldn’t be easy.

“I have my own place, but I can try to find something better in the meantime”.

They seemed lost in thought, then looked at each other. The silent conversation between them showed you a bit of the true connection they had. It made you a bit uncomfortable all of sudden, like you shouldn’t be witnessing whatever was happening in front of your eyes.

If San seemed uncomfortable in your presence before, now it was clear to you the reason wasn’t because he said he missed you, but because of this whole situation. It also brought you some flashbacks and it made sense that he hadn’t looked your way in the past half hour or so.

“You guys can think, how much time do you have until you have to leave?”

“Not a lot, but can I have your phone number?”, Hongjoong took a step further with his own phone in hand. “I’ll let you know if we took upon that offer”.

“And I’ll let you know if I find something else, so send me a quick message, okay?”, you got another smile out of them and took it as a small victory.

“Thank you so so much”, Wooyoung said as he rubbed the marks he accidentally made on your skin before pulling away from you.

It then downed on you his tail was around your waist this whole time like a warm blanket protecting your skin from the wind and you only noticed it when it left your body. It didn’t cross your mind how strange it was when he got so attentive and clingy the moment he had an opportunity for it.

Did that fox just used his seductive skills to win me over?, you thought as you tried to keep a poker face.

To his credit, Wooyoung didn’t plan to do anything of that sort. He was only being himself, at least 99% of himself with only 1% of boldness he usually hadn’t in him. He felt like he did a walk of shame back to his pack, because, of course, they noticed. Sure, he knew he didn’t need to do that to you, but in the back of his mind he knew that was the only way to get into someone’s good side and they needed to be in your good side.

Wooyoung only took a deep breath when he felt the comforting hands of San rubbing his back. At least San wasn’t judging him.

You thought he was cute. Really, all of them would always be kind of adorable in your head and you weren’t mad at him or anything. But the fact he thought he had to do that with you was disheartening. Now you had another hybrid avoiding your gaze.

“Which side are you guys going to?”, you broke the awkward and full of unspoken emotions silence.

Jongho took that bait as a sign and pointed to his left with his left thumb.

“I’m heading the other way, I hope we see each other soon”.

It was a lie, your home was the same exact direction, but you took the long way around it.

San could say he never had a silent way back home such as this, but there was no home to come back to.

He didn’t need to look at the others to know how they were feeling. There was hope, frustration and anger hanging in the air, still nobody dared to be the one to say those words.

Hongjoong was the most frustrated one. Nothing went as planned, since they didn’t even planned to reach out to you in the first place. At least not now, but time never was on their side just like every other fucking thing. It was Mingi’s idea to go into the cafeteria and if you were there, they would go talk to you. What were the actual fucking chances you were there?

He walked in front of everyone else without a new plan yet, which was pissing him off further. His head was too heavy for his shoulders, but he needed to find a roof for his pack, so he couldn’t complain about it.

Mingi and Yunho were the last ones in line on purpose.

Yunho was a ticking bomb, he could keep the smile on his face as long as he wanted, but Mingi knew better. Yunho always thought this pride thing was kind of ridiculous in this situation. He was the first to agree to Mingi’s plan and the one who encouraged everyone else to at least try to find you, because there was not another alternative. Why was that so hard to understand? This could easier than the mess they created it.

And Yeosang was trying so so hard to conceal the hope that everyone would be ok in your house and would be able to figure it out from there. He understood why the others were hesitant, freedom wasn’t a joke for hybrids like them, who hadn’t any for so long. But at the same time you wouldn’t abuse your powers as owner of the house and only human, he would lose faith in humanity if you were like that after all he went through.

Everything was aligned for a fight to happen at any minute and San was more anxious than ever. It came out in waves off of him, Wooyoung, who was by his side, could actually feel it penetrating his own skin and therefore making himself anxious.

“Stop!”, Wooyoung yelled and all of them paralyzed in the middle of the sidewalk. He took a deep breath as a couple glared at them before bumping into Mingi. Jongho held Yunho’s arm before he could give them a piece of his mind. They can not afford to grab this much attention on the streets. “Fuck, guys, stop , let’s just… there”, Wooyoung pointed to an empty alley.

Wooyoung did little to explain himself as he walked away.

“You can’t just do shit like this in the middle of the road”, Hongjoong angry whispered to Wooyoung, barely able to contain himself as he was the first to follow him.

“I know, I know and I’m sorry”, he whispered back as he disappeared in the shadows and the others followed suit.

“I do no-”

“Does anyone have a better plan?”, Wooyoung interrupts Seonghwa without noticing it. “Because I don’t think anyone does and we’ll be out here until they throw us into jail, is that better than to just accept some help?”

“We can at least try”, among the whispers, San’s voice was the softest. “We did it once, didn’t we?”

“We are trying and where is that taking us, Sannie?”, Wooyoung’s voice sounded as tired of that topic as he felt dirty from the lack of shower for the 2nd day in a row. “We came back to level zero and we even lost all of the progress for Yunho’s case”.

At the mention of that topic, Yunho turned around to face the wall.

“Guys, we have to leave right now”, Seonghwa said as he looked over his shoulders. “Now, come on, we have to go”, Seonghwa pushed Mingi and Jongho to move first.

The two of them started with small steps looking for what Seonghwa saw, then they noticed the weird white dude talking on the phone on the other side of the road. The whispered words reached their twitching hybrid ears. It was something about safety laws and … hybrid security.

They ran.

Jongho didn’t know where he was going, but he found himself guiding them through neighborhood after neighborhood. Unfortunately it was hard to be discreet when there was nine hybrids running in broad daylight and as time passed, they got more and more attention from humans.

Their ears up in their heads, waiting for the first sign of sirens to come, because they always did if any stray hybrid was out in the open by 5.

Then, Jongho suddenly made a turn when he caught a familiar scent. The others were too busy to noticed the change in route. Instead of the nation park, now there were headed to the outskirts of the small residential area.

When they all noticed, it was too late.

They were in front of your house.

And the siren let them know it was well past 5.

Tagslist: @asherthehimbo @katsukis1wife @a1i33a @idfkeddieishot @pyeonghongrie-main @h3arteyes4mingi @huachengsbestie01 @hhoneylix @alxxxnya @queenproxy-blog @staytiny816

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

Hi Cal my dear! Wishing you a lovely weekend! And sending MAJOR props for everything you’ve posted in the last day it was all fabulous! Here’s lots of emojis to prompt your brilliant mind :)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (THEYRE MARRIED!!!! LOVE THAT FOR THEM! So looking forward to seeing them with their new house and baby and their beautiful life together!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(buckley parents suuuuuck! AND ITS FINALLY TIME FOR A DANIEL REVEAL! On the edge of my seat!)

🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(loved chim’s pov! Thats my sweet guy he’s such a softie romantic! Very excited to see whose pov is next and find out who is approaching the library!)

- PCA <3

HI PCA <3 <3 <3 <3

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!

42 for ⚡️(YEAH MARRIED! HONEYMOON TIME):

---

Buck and Eddie have to work three shifts before they can leave for their little honeymoon getaway. Whoever’s idea that - his - is obviously an idiot, because it’s torture. All he wants to do is have lots of sex in the little beach house AirBnb he booked in San Clemente with his husband, but no! He has to go to work and spend several days walking into fires, getting vomited on, and most importantly, not having sex. He barely survives. It’s really quite a travesty. 

It’s actually a pretty decent sign for Buck that he’s really fucking happy with his life that he doesn’t want to be at work. He loves work. His job is the greatest job in the world. His team is the best team on earth. Most of the time? Can’t get enough of it. But in the wake of their wedding - which was perfect and stunning and everyone else wishes they had wedding photos in front of a fire truck from the 1920s - Buck has other things occupying his brain. Much more exciting things. Which is kind of bad, considering he should really just be focused on saving lives. 

By the end of the third shift, Buck is practically vibrating, waiting for the time to end. They’re all packed. They’re leaving first thing in the morning. Not soon enough. 

Adriana and Ravi are coming to stay with Chris for the five days they’ll be gone. Chris thinks this is very cool. Much cooler than the alternative, which was going to be Pepa. Buck thinks this is a little unfair to poor Pepa, who has watched him hundreds of times. But he gets it. They’re younger and more fun and will almost certainly let him get away with more than Eddie would. 

When their shift finally does end, Buck can feel himself motoring through their leaving routine. He tries to light a fire under Eddie’s feet with his eyes so Eddie will move a bit quicker. 

“Changing like you’re between sets at the Eras Tour is not going to make tomorrow come any quicker,” Eddie tells him. 

“Oh, he’s got Eras Tour references,” Buck teases.

Obviously he has made Eddie watch the movie. Twice. But only twice! No matter what Eddie may or may not have complained. 

“We’ve still got hours,” Eddie says. “Calm down.”

“I will not,” Buck scoffs. “I am as excited for this as the wedding!”

Buck has made this point clear. Several times. They made cuts to their wedding budget so they could afford this waterfront rental. Buck is so fucking excited for this honeymoon. 

He understands that this might sound somewhat insane. Maybe a little vapid.

---

63 for 🚨 (yeahhhhh sorry for the angst):

---

It’s not easy or stable or linear. But he’s working on it.

The day after he learns about Daniel, Buck calls in sick to work. Takes a mental health day at Eddie’s insistence. This turns out to be a wise call. There’s a horrific factory fire that almost goes badly, and Buck probably wouldn’t have been in a good headspace for that. To make matters worse, his parents actually show up at the station. Eddie sends them away, for which Buck is grateful. He doesn’t want to see them again. 

And he doesn’t have to. 

Maddie comes over at his request and they talk through everything. He’s mad. Really mad. 

“You should have told me. After everything we’ve been through together, the trial, moving, how could you not tell me?” 

“I was terrified to tell you!” She admits. “Especially after Afghanistan and the trial, Evan! You slip into such dark places. Places where I can’t reach you. I didn’t want to risk it!”

And the thing is, he can understand that. She’s not wrong. He has descended into dark spells again and again since being honorably discharged. 

“And, honestly, Evan… I didn’t know how to talk about him,” Maddie continues. “I was never allowed. She’d get so upset at the slightest mention… It was like even thinking about him made me feel like I would be punished.”

Buck’s anger deflates a lot after that. Because, really. He can’t imagine. He can’t fucking imagine. 

They argue some more. They cry. They make up. How could Buck ever possibly stay mad at her forever? She loved him enough for two parents, when his own refused. 

So he moves forward. He keeps up with therapy. He cherishes his loved ones. He tries to live up to the role Christopher has graciously given to him. That Eddie allows him to have. He works on loving himself, to be worthy of the love they give him.

And life moves forward with him. 

ii.

They have their first Christmas together as a couple. As a family. Eddie, who wasn’t really a big holiday guy ever before Christopher, loves every second of it. It’s like holidays finally have a reason to feel magical, rather burdensome. He has the exact family he was missing before, in order for them to feel perfect. 

Buck goes all out. Decorates, plays music, bakes. Spoils Chris way more than he needs to. He comes back to life, in a way he’s been struggling to do since the whole Daniel thing. He is holiday cheer incarnate. Eddie is so disgustingly in love with him. 

On Christmas morning, sitting around a faux-pine tree, watching their kid open heaps more presents than Eddie got at that age, Eddie can’t help but feel a strange sense of tranquility. Like, oh. Right. This is what life is supposed to be. He can imagine ten more Christmases from now. He can imagine wedding bands. He can imagine more kids.

---

48 for 🧟(it's Eddie!!!!):

---

“Well, yeah,” Buck replies. “Good thing Los Angeles is a very small town. Like one intersection.”

“Okay, smart ass,” Eddie sighs. 

“Where in L.A.?” Buck amends his question. 

Okay, fine. It’s a fair question.

“Mid-City area,” Eddie explains. Not that that might mean anything to Buck. “My wife… Shannon… Her mom had an apartment out there.”

“Her mom?” Buck asks. “You said she was caring for her, right?”

Eddie shifts in the driver’s seat uncomfortably. He doesn’t really want to get into all of it. It’s not easy to talk about. But, then again, he agreed to Buck coming. So obviously Buck is going to have to learn more of it than what Eddie explained to him that first night. Which wasn’t very much. And if they do find Shannon? Well, then Buck will probably hear a lot of it. There’s a lot Eddie needs to say to her. He’s not sure how composed he’ll be able to keep himself, after all this time. 

“Yeah,” Eddie confirms. “She was terminally ill. Cancer.”

“Fuck,” Buck sighs. “I’m sorry, man.”

“Thanks.”

It feels strange to accept condolences for Janet, but he does it anyway. She wasn’t his mother. They weren’t that close. He feels like he probably cost her time with her daughter. Definitely with her grandson. But… Yeah. He’s sad she’s probably dead. She was always very kind to him. In a judgment free way his own parents couldn’t comprehend. Not that he should be thinking badly of them. 

“I don’t know if she died or not before…”

“Zombies?”

“Yeah.”

“Kind of hope she did, for her sake,” Buck replies.

Eddie nods.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Carla [VAMPIRE ENDING]

ー The scene starts with Yui entering Carla’s room

Yui: ( Carla-san...Is he asleep? Or perhaps he has already lost consciousness...? )

Carla-san, can you hear me? It’s me, Carla-san...!

Carla: ...That voiceーー Yui, is that you...?

Yui: Yes...!

Carla: ...Why did you come here...?

Yui: Once I heard that this Castle had been taken over by Kino-kun and the Ghouls, I simply could not sit still...

I am so relieved...that you are safe and sound.

Carla: Safe and sound, huh...? I have to disagree with that, considering my current health situation...

Yui: But you are still alive. And once you get cured from your illness, you’ll get to live so much longer!

Let’s go to Rotigenberg together, Carla-san...!

Carla: ...

Yui: I want us to live life together. I want to spend my life with you.

You had plenty of dreams and ambitions, didn’t you?

I am sure you can grant those once you recover!

Carla: Ambitions...Dreams...

However, those...can no longer be fulfilled. 

Yui: Eh...?

Carla: Howeverーー A new ambition just sparked...inside of me.

For that sake, I shall survive one more time...

...Yui. Let us go to Rotigenberg. 

I realized that there is something I must achieve...no matter what...

Yui: Carla-san...!!

( He found his will to life again...! )

Yes, right away. Let’s go together. 

...I shall be with you forever. Please don’t forget that.

Carla: ...Yes. Exactly. Let us go together...Yui...

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the Ghouls’ manor

Yui: Welcome back, Carla-san.

Carla: Yes. 

Yui: I’ll get you a cup of tea right away.

( It has been a while since we came here to Rotigenberg and Carla-san actually got better. )

( He still goes on daily walks to expose himself to the gasses emitting from the ground, but it’s honestly barely necessary at this point... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Huh...?

Carla: ...? This is one of the Vampire’s Familiars. 

A letter ーー For me?

*Flip* 

Carla: ...!

Yui: Carla-san? What’s wrong?

Carla: ...Kino and the Ghouls were attacked by the Vampire Clan.

And...They were wiped clean.

Yui: ...

Carla: ...Haah.

I suppose my ambition was once again cut short before it could come to fruition. 

Yui: Carla-san...

( I was incredibly shocked as well when I heard that Shin-kun had been murdered by Kino-kun. )

( Carla-san wanted to come cure his disease here at Rotigenberg, so he could avenge Shin-kunーー ) 

( Even if that meant he would have to become a Ghoul in return. )

( He decided to go to Rotigenberg and continue to live, for that sole reason. )

( But now that Kino-kun is dead, he can no longer... )

Carla: Yui. Let us return to Banmaden. 

Yui: Eh? 

Carla: Since they went out of their way to inform me of these happenings, I believe the Vampire Clan does not intend to take over Banmaden. 

I have been cured from Endzeit. It is time for me to return. 

Yui: ...Yes!

( Even if he can no longer avenge Shin-kun. )

( Carla-san has completely regained the power to continue living. )

( He’s back to being the old Carla-san...! )

 ー The scene shifts to the outside of Banmaden

Yui: ( It feels like forever since I last saw Banmaden... )

( Huh? Somebody’s coming our way from up ahead? )

???: Oi−! Nii-san! Yui!

Yui: ...! This voiceーー

Carla: Shin! You were alive...?

Shin: Oh geez, Nii-san! Don’t kill me off that easily!

Carla: However...

Shin: Well, yeah. I guess I can’t blame you for thinking I had kicked the bucket. I got stabbed through the heart multiple times after all.

Carla: ...What on earth happened afterwards? 

Shin: A lot, really. I’ll go in chronological order. 

First, I was thrown into the dungeon. Then after some time had passed, I came back to life.

Carla: ...I find that somewhat hard to believe. 

Shin: Hehe. I get that. I still don’t believe it myself at times. Props to me for recovering from that!

So, everyone was in the middle of the war at that point. So nobody bothered to check up on the guy who had been thrown into the dungeon.

That’s why I waited by myself, recovering my strength and waiting for a chance to strike. 

Carla: However, it would be difficult for you to overthrow a whole army by yourself...

Shin: Yeah. That’s why I contacted the Vampire Clan first. 

Yui: Shuu-san and the others? 

Shin: Yeah.

( Even though he used to despise Vampires so much. )

Carla: So you saying that the Vampire Clan took out Kinoーー?

Shin: Yeah. I guess you could say it was a shared effort between Shuu and I.

I had no other choice but join hands with them to get myself out of that situation. 

I mean, it wasn’t my personal choice to have to work together with those Vampires, but there was no other way. 

Carla: ...And that is why they sent a Familiar to me? 

Shin: There you have it. I could have done it myself as well. But I figured it was a good opportunity to surprise you two.

Yui: Surprise us? Shin-kun...

Shin: Well, I was pretty shocked myself as well. ーー Because you’ve fully recovered from your illness. 

Anyway, I’m super happy about that.

Carla: ...

Shin: We’ve formed an alliance with the Vampire Clan. That’s how we got the Vibora to step back. 

I believe that the power levels in the Demon World are currently stablized. The situation is pretty peaceful. 

Carla: I see...

Shin. You did a truly outstanding job. 

Shin: E-Eeh? Where is this coming from all of a sudden?

Carla: You did a fine job accomplishing something which is usually the task of a King.

Younger brother of mine. I am proud of you.

Shin: Oh come on, lay it off. It’s embarrassing. 

Carla: It is nothing to be embarrassed about, is it? You are more than deserving of the praise. 

Shin: No, it’s just...Kino put the two of you through hell and back as well, didn’t he?

So I just wanted to get back at him for that.

Carla: ...

... Shin. There is something I would like to ask you.

Shin: Hm? Yes?

Carla: Will you inherit the throne in my place?

Yui: ( Eh? ...Carla-san!? )

Shin: ...!? Hold up, Nii-san, what are you saying out of nowhere!?

Carla: It is not sudden at all. This has been on my mind the whole time.

ーー I am no longer qualified to call myself a King.

...I am sure you can tell, but I am no longer a Founder.

Shin: Ugh...

Carla: A Ghoul without powers should not be allowed to be King. Therefore, Shin ーー I am counting on you.

Shin: ...

...I’m afraid I can’t say yes to that, even if you’re the one asking.

Carla: Excuse me...!? 

Shin: I’m not right guy for the job. I mean, I haven’t been taught how to be a fine King at all.

...Kino and his minions told me when they attacked me. 

That I brought the situation upon myself because I was far too strict with them. 

That pissed me off back then...But when I looked back at it, I could sort of understand where they were coming from.

Even if you ask me to behave like a proper King just like you did, I just can’t.

Carla: ...You won’t consider?

Shin: ...Nope. This is the one thing I can’t do, no matter how many times you ask me. 

Carla: ...I see. 

...However, the two of us were the only two living Founders left.

And I am no longer a Founder, so there is no other option but for you to become the new King. Am I wrong? 

Yui: ( ... )

Um...Excuse me. May I?

Carla: Hm?

Yui: ...It might not just be the two of you.

Shin: ...? What do you mean?

Yui: Well...I believe a new Founder might be born into this World very soon...

Shin: Eh!? A new Founder, do you meanーー!?

Yui: ( ...Shin-kun is staring right at my belly. )

E-Exactly. There’s one...inside of here, you know?

Shin: Wow, amazing! For real...!?

Carla: ...! Yui, is that true!?

Yui: ...Yes.

Carla: Why have you stayed quiet about something so important up till now!?

Yui: No, I found out very recently...But we ended up returning to Banmaden before I had a chance to tell you. 

So I figured right now was as good as a time as ever to announce it...

Carla: I see...So that’s how it went.

Shin: Eh? If this is Nii-san’s kid ーー I’m gonna be an uncle!? Right!?

Geezー That’s kinda embarrassing...But not bad, I guess! Haha!

Yui: ( Seems like both of them are overjoyed. I’m glad... )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to Carla’s room

Yui: Carla-san. It’s already late. You should probably get some rest soon...

Carla: Do not worry about me. I am no longer ill after all. 

Yui: Ah...My bad.

Carla: No, I cannot blame you. I looked death straight into the eyes not too long ago after all. 

I feel relieved to be back here at Banmaden now.

...It is rather odd how it makes me feel that way, considering I was locked up in this Castle for the longest time. 

Yui: ...

Carla: ...Yui. Come closer.

Yui: Sure...

ー She steps closer

Carla: Stand in front of me.

Yui: ...?

*Rustle*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“I promise that I shall forever protect you...as well as our child inside your belly, to show my thanks for granting me with such warm feelings.”

“I did not think...I would one day be able to talk about the future like this. It’s all thanks to you.”

Yui: Ah...

Carla: I must convey my gratitude to you. You ensured our bloodline. 

While I may have become a Ghoul, I can now entrust my dreams, ambitions and our future to someone. 

It’s all thanks to you...Yui. 

Yui: Carla-san...

( His touch and voice are so gentle... )

( As if he’s gently embracing meーー and this new life. )

Carla: I thought happiness was something I would never get to experience. 

But I believe that I have finally come to somewhat understand what it means.

Yui: Carla-san...

Ever since...I decided that I would stay with you, I’ve felt this way. That your happiness, also makes me happy.

And it really does...

( Carla-san, I and this little one. )

( At this moment, we have found a new form of happiness right hereーー )

ーー THE END ーー

[slowee00]

• — SYSTEM X • ACT 1

• BY SLOWEE00/SLOoORE

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#—𝟶𝟸 • 𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙! 픽업

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❌ MASTERLIST + INFO + WARNINGS

first two - three chapters are old. Bare with me.

CHAPTER WARNGING(S): Swearing

Next Chapter>>>>>>>

Credit: left parking garage photo by photographer Akira Asakura - unknown

"Jeez these are heavy.." you mumbled as you threw your things to the back of your cream coloured car. Sighing, you paused and rested your hands on the trunk of your vehicle, reminiscing the past.

After Thanos snapped his fingers, your life changed for the better and for the worse. The world changed for the worse and for the better.

After half's of earth's population was brought back, you've moved to a different country, learned a different language.

You wanted to restart. A clean plate. Let's just say your past life wasn't something to share with everyone. You've done things you've regret in hopes of making it better. You got no one. Your parents died during Thanos first attack on New York in 2011. You were only 11 years old when you witnessed your home being blown up with you and them still inside. You survived but your parents weren't so lucky.

It was nearly 10pm and you just closed up for the night. Everyday is the same but you don't mind it, really, Korea looks pretty at night.

Clapping your hand together to brush off any leftover dirt from your palms, slamming the back door of your car shut before you heard a small click sound, telling you that it was locked.

Reaching into your pocket to fetched your keys but only to found yourself stopping after hearing a slight disturbance coming from behind you.

Out of curiosity, you turned around, scanning the nearly empty parking garage and found nothing. Your eyes scan every grey concrete, the cracks in the wall, and for any newly parked cars.

But it was just you in the nearly empty parking garage.

You were the one who locked up, so no one should even be here this late at night. That, or people are working a night shift.

"Hm..." you thought long and hard about going to check it out but you brushed it off thinking is a squirrel. If not that, just your paranoia. Wouldn't be the first time.

In-till you heard it again only this time, it was closer.

Just as you were about to open your car door you suddenly stopped with your fingers inches away for your cars handle, fingers just glazing against it, feeling your body tensed up.

"Oh god!" You screamed, brushing your hands over your coats pockets.

"I forget my earphones in my locker." You groaned, throwing your head back and locked your car and headed straight for the elevator.

You walked a couple of steps across the parking garage too retrieve your ten dollar earphones. But with each step, you felt...off. As if someone was watching your every move.

Out of habit, you stopped walking and turned around to scan your surroundings.

Nothing. Just distant traffic coming from a close highway.

Your loose olive coat brushed against your hands as you turned to every sound that hit your eardrum.

Nothing.

"She's went back downstairs, Yunho, just in case San fails, get ready,"

A voice said in the brown haired male's earpiece. The tall male sat on a long sun chair, waiting for further instructions for about an hour.

"Okie dokie!" He said, popping out his coca-cola flavoured lollipop from his lips and smiled at the view font of him.

He let out a chuckled before aggressively putting down his rather large case on the roof of the apartment building; opening the case revealing a JTF2 Sniper.

He squealed.

"...my baby..." he said, bring his hand across the cold metal, caressing the scope to the sniper itself that had a big 'baby' printed in white spray paint on the body of the gun.

"Let's do this..." he muttered, taking each piece from the case and assembled it together; making sure that the magazine was fully loaded and seated the gun on the bipod.

After doing so, he set up his sniper rifle on the edge of the building, pointing the nozzle at lit up parking garage.

"I'm in position, I got the target in view, tell me when I should take the shot," Yunho said through his earpiece.

He watched you- three buildings away - through his sniper's scope. Your tall yet small figure walk skittishly to the elevator. You wore a large white t-shirt under your long olive coat with black baggy pants and white shoes. An everyday outfit in Korea.

He know from the way you looked - your skin, eye shape, nose, your quivering l/c lips *to your f/c - if you wear one - hajib* that you were foreign to the country.

"You're pretty," he mumbled trying to place his target on your head. He scans your worried with a mix of concern-face before checking you out, his finger slowly caressing the trigger.

"...God, I'll hate to ruin that cheap white shirt of yours..." he watched you double check your environment as you arrive to the elevator and pushed down on the button, waiting patiently for the ride.

Once you heard the small ding, you stepped inside too retrieve your ten dollar earphones. "...I didn't hear the shot..." Hongjoong spoke through Yunho's earpiece.

After watching your every moving, Yunho lowered his gun and rises his hand to his earpiece.

"Target out of sight...I'm not clear to take the shot," he paused, removing his eye from the scope and relaxes his shoulders. "Shit...!" Hongjoong cursed.

You smiled softly while staring at your earphones that wasn't- thankfully- stolen. The elevator made a high bell sound before opening the door and immediately your eyes wondered to the only living thing in the elevator, a tall male. Close to your height, a little bit taller.

They had a long black leather coat on with a rocking ruby turtleneck. He wore a eyelet decor buckle belt with long grey dress pants. His jaw was sharp along with his facial features. You didn't say anything before you stepped in but not before glancing at his name tag that had a company's name on it, in fact, it was a company close to the shop you worked at.

You stepped in and reached for the button for your floor number but to your surprise, there wasn't any other button glowing, showing that the man behind you wasn't going anywhere. He didn't get off at the stop you got on, so you had to ask.

"Um...ajeossi, where are you getting off?" You looked up at him for an answer. But you didn't get one.

Instead, his gaze slowly turned to you and only looked into your e/c eyes than to your feet and up back to your eyes.

"...."

"...O..k..." You nodded awkwardly and clicked on your floor to where your car is. Now you know why they used to put music in elevators just to ease the tension. The waiting time was awkward and you can feel his gaze from behind you, creating a hole through your head.

Finally the bell rings and you got off at your appropriate floor. But still, the man didn't get off. You thought you saw a ghost cause he wasn't simply getting off and just stood there. At the last second, you turned at face him one last time but your heart skipped a beat when you did just that.

He smiled at you.

Revealing his dimples and threw you a small wave, tilting his head back. But just when the elevator doors were about to close, his mood, era and expression drops.

For some reason the atmosphere got dark and intense. And soon his attractive smile formed into a hard glare.

"The heck..." you mumbled. Parting your lips before taking out your lip boom from your small fanny pack to moist them. But before you could take a step or apply any lip-boom on your l/c lips your phone ringed, playing your annoying ringtone.

"Who's calling me now..." you argued to yourself, putting away your boom and taking out your phone from your waist bag.

'...unknown...' it read.

"Scam..." you mumbled and put it back to where it was before. Trying again, to took your boom out again and began to slowly walk to your car.

It ringed again.

You groan as your boom was just an inch away for your slightly chapped lips.

This time, you answered.

"Look, this better be good-"

"You're F/N (M/N) L/n, right?" A dangerously deep male voice asked you over your phone in Korean. He sounded out of breath and of you listen closely you could hear the sound if aggressive wind being hit over and over again; like a chopper, nearly muffling out their voice. If it wasn't for their voice being deep, you couldn't have heard them.

You paused and tried to registered what the heck just came out of your phone's speaker.

"Yes...-"

"Listen to me carefully or you'll die." You felt your heart drop. You farrowed your eyebrows. "Huh!" your palms sweated while you began to fiddled with your lip-booms' label.

Your lips quivered and you began to blink faster than you usually do.

"What....What is this!?" You asked nearly screaming at the man on the phone. It was nearly 10:30 pm now and you're tired as heck. You got work tomorrow too. You started to get impatient and you just got enough of it.

"Ma'am or sir- whatever they call you, I'm too tired to be told this- this-"

"Your phone number is 026*******, your social security number is 82**01-23**678, you live in a apartment in Sangam on World cup buk-ro 60-gil-" at the moment- after he named your apartment name he went on to your best friends names to your dogs' former owner.

"I know more about you know about yourself, so listen."

Your heart dropped and you were unable to pick it up. You sweated buckets while your head was pounding. You were stunned. "O-ok you made your point...Ma'am..." you cut them off, stuffing your lipboom away in your bag and took out your inhaler instead.

You took a breath.

"Listen to me carefully..."

You took another breath.

"Don't go to the elevators or any exits, understand?" You paused.

"Elevator...?" You mumbled.

Now you were scared.

Earlier today you felt that you were being watched. From you bring at the cash register to you being at the back designing donuts. The weird noises. The sudden overly dressed man in the rusted elevator, it kinda made sense.

Slowly turning around to face the closed sliver metal doors.

"Second, they are people coming after you thinking you are a drug lord...." “A what lord…?” “How could this happen….” You heard him muttering to himself. You spaced out, your eyes wondering to the top of the elevator. Slowly lowering your phone from your ear, you watched the the lights at the top of the elevator light sit on your level.

It never moved.

Flashback:

Two days before F/N L/N Attempted Assassination.

"FUCK!" The woman cursed, slammed her fist onto the table. She cursed, trying to keep her anger at a minimum.

The other workers has stopped typing, searching or what not and instead now bowing their heads. Some fidget with their fingers while some watch their general, waiting for further instructions.

"But the mission was successful?"

"Yes ma'am." The agent answered formally.

Her breathing hitched. 'No it wasn't, if it was, they would've be here!' She failed. She thought it makes her no different from the general their trying to erase from existence.

"Keep calm." She mumbled.

Everyone shifted in their seat and if not in one, squirmed uncomfortably on their feet.

She promised them a happy life after all General Dreykov rooms were erased off of the face of the earth. But than again, she can't guarantee their safety out in action. She can only do some much till she's cut off.

"Ma'am-"

Her sudden loud scream filled with stress cut her companion off. And not a second after the woman in the black leather coat punched the screen hard resulting her pale fist piercing straight through it.

She wasn't sad anymore, she was mad.

Angry that she was unable to do something as two agents or even friends went up in flames as she was sipping her coffee in the staff room that morning.

"Everyone goes home," was the last thing she said to them. A total lie.

After removing her pale fist from the broken computer screen - not caring if it was bleeding - she wipes her now pink face with her sleeve, pinching her nose and ran her fingers down her pink cheeks.

It was quiet in the headquarters. The general is a having a break down. Many people don't know how to feel. Some don't even know who the group of agents were, they just punch in numbers, coordinates and assign missions.

The boys stood there along with the other workers. Waiting. This wasn't the first time anyway. Many people die happy, many die sad or angry. It's life. A sad reality.

But as others would say, ‘move on.’

"...God..." she mumbled. "What the next mission?" she yelled, grabbing a hold of the rallying, her sliver rings made contact with metal supporter.

"We’ll um…" he deep cold voice answered the woman.

"Soobin!" She yelled at one of the worker who almost choked and immediately stopped drinking his coffee, tapped his computer's keyboard with a loud click. The other workers sprung back into action, typing on the computer to pull up the next file.

The large blue LED globe in the centre of the research hall spins till it created a landmark on Korea; a spot just outside of Seoul. A second after an ID popped up. The photo glitches revealing a foreign female.

"This..." she started, pointing to the large ID on the screen.

"Is your next target." She said, assembling the next temporary squad.

Hongjoong’s heavy boots made a satisfying sound as he walks on the roof of the headquarters. His orange coloured hair blow in the heavy wind, despite knowing that he's not allowed up there in the first place. Keeping his balance, he walks slowly to the figure who was slouching.

Both males were still in their uniforms. Fully loaded guns with sharp knifes resting in there harness against their torso, hips, and thighs.

"You good?" He asked is junior, Wooyoung who was now playing with his small pocket knife. Putting his finger through the hole at the bottom of the knife's handle, spinning it around his finger.

"No." He coldly answered his senior. Hongjoong doesn't really know how to comfort people after a lost. He told himself to never get to close to someone cause he'll never know when they'll disappear. He knows their likely going to die in his hands here than out there in the world.

He was about to say something but was cut off by a beep coming from his wrist. He brought up his wrist to see a flashing red light and wasted no time tapping on it.

"New squad: 4-X Jeong Yunho, Choi San, Kim Hongjoong, and Jung Wooyoung; this is your new mission, 4 days from now. This is your new target. This is an assassination mission. If we can’t find them, we kill their drug lord, it will fuel the others to come out."

He hummed, "assassination mission..." Hongjoong mumbled, beginning to read the description. Taking a breath, he looking past his caller and straight to the young black haired male who has now stopped playing with his small pocket knife and looked at his hologram-watch.

"Another one already?..." Wooyoung sighed. "Come on," he murmured before getting up on his feet, walking passed him to the meeting lobby.

NOTES

———————————

❌ - F/N thought the male in the elevator was handsome

❌ - San was eyeing F/n. He liked her coat

Translation

아저씨 ajeossi Translations of Mister

///noun///

——————————

Next Chapter >>>>>

Taglist

@yayaistime

[dragon-business]

Majima's freedom and Kiryu's naivety

So, Kiryu has a way of coping with his social difficulties by adopting strict rules and beliefs to guide himself through human interactions. This helps him out a lot, but also makes him very resistant to change and hard-headed sometimes. And sometimes even cruel.

Like, for instance, let's take Majima. Kiryu really admires him, and trusts him, and believes that Majima is very capable and can handle anything life throws his way. And technically this is super sweet, and amazing, but Kiryu believes it so wholeheartedly that it becomes cruel naivety.

And one of the first times we properly see this is in Kiwami, in the scene on the pier. After helping Kiryu out big time all through the story and in that momrnt, Majima got shot in the stomach, and fell into the freezing December waters of the Tokyo Bay. And Kiryu sees this and just… leaves. He has more pressing matters to deal with. Majima-san will be fine, he's Majima-san, after all. He can survive anything. Even swimming out of cold waters alone while bleeding his guts out, apparently (oh, the desire to punch Kiryu in that moment, we could barely contain it).

And in our playthrough this happened almost right after we finished Majima Everywhere, so it was twice as gutpunchy of a dick move.

Nevermind that Majima survived this. Of course he did, that's all he does in his life when he's pressed against the wall (or depth of the ocean). The point is that he shouldn't be put in these situations, especially by people he trusts.

(This thing with Kiryu thinking that Majima can handle anything and doesn't need any help at all will keep going on and on in the future, each time becoming more and more of a shitty thing pull. It includes things like, let's say, making Majima come back to Tojo in y3, leaving him to deal with the Nishikiyama family, and so on. But there's bit more to it at play than naïve beliefs by that point, We'll get to it in time.)

And yes, this was a long winded intro to saying that Majima had all the rights to be pissed at Kiryu after that and ram the bathhouse with the truck at full speed. It seems that he threatened the girl there just for show. He talked politely to her and let her go immediately when she said she's in love with someone.

Kiryu deserved this ass whooping, 100%.

(We also strongly believe that after this incident Majima bought Shangri-La. Like, both the building and the business. But, since it was connected to unpleasant memories and he just really didn't like the place, Majima left it as it is. Didn't touch it at all since then)

(And this is why even as far as y6 Shangri-La is still standing there, boarded up, empty, the place where the truck hit the building still clearly visible and only getting more decrepit with age)

So, anyways, Kiryu and Majima don't see each other for a bit after that. Majima has time to cool off, think about it more… and then news come in. Shimano is dead, and in an indirect way he's dead because of Kiryu. Shimano who put Majima through the worst hell and then back. Shimano who Majima stayed with, even after all that, pretending to be unruly and free. Shimano, who Majima was unable to break away from, almost freezing each time he was around. It's been over a decade of mad dog barking on a leash. And then bam, Shimano is gone. Thanks (somewhat) to Kiryu.

Imagine what this does to a man. To Majima. After all these years. After Majima Everywhere.

And he sends Kiryu this text. 

And it is already a lot. But with this context, knowing the story of y0, I doubt my or Majima's heart will ever be still.

He'll need some time to process all this. To really grasp that he is really truly free now. To realise that Kiryu somehow helped him get his freedom. To understand what being free even means.

So Majima will not be available, will be out of it for a while afterwards. Missing the finale of the game and some context.

But, get this, there’s even more – later everyone learns that Kiryu didn't kill Dojima. And, see, Majima already kinda made his peace with it. He had to live for 10 years knowing Kiryu, with all his big words about honour and not murdering people, still did it. For whatever reason he had, it doesn't matter. He got down from his idealistic horse and got dirty like the rest of them.

And it's not like Majima cared. Not like it meant something to him, this small corner of his heart that sorta maybe felt good seeing Kiryu stubbornly prevail with his beliefs intact even in the most gruesome places. Whatever, amaright? Majima is fine. He moved on, and can still appreciate Kiryu's company even with this smal pang of something not being the same anymore.

And then. It turns out Kiryu never stained his hands with blood. At all. He went through prison to help his brother, not that this sounds familiar to Majima, and- 

Majima will be processing all this for a while.

– before / navigation / next

[violetnaps]

second first draft - hueco mundo timeloop fic. basically just The Scene.

It’s not working.

She knows what the problem is. There’s only ever been one problem. Aizen, Matsuri says.

Me, Orihime thinks.

It’s funny, almost. Matsuri doesn’t even talk about her adoptive captain anymore. In every other attempt, he’d been at the forefront of her focus, right next to Fujimaru. (She’d promised, over and over, as many times as it took – she’ll never let him die. Half for the sake of this boy she’s never met, because she’d had a brother too, once, and half for the sake of the girl next to her who’d die with him in more ways than one. So, really, it’s not for him at all, and she almost feels sorry for it.)

Nowadays, she just lingers by Orihime’s side, nervous as the day they met. There is power thrumming under her hands that Orihime cannot touch. That Orihime does not want to touch. Matsuri is stronger than her, but not much else. They can’t rely on such unstable power. They shouldn’t have to. It’s Orihime that’s the problem.

She’s starting to lose track of how many times it’s been.

It’s always around here that she loses her nerve. The first time, she’d only gone back just far enough to undo that gaping hole. This can’t be, is what she’d thought. I reject, I reject, I reject!

And so it had been undone.

Only to happen again.

She’d watched, then, horrorstruck, wondering if the reversal had been a trick of her mind. A vain, pointless hope. It’s always going to be this way. You’re not strong enough, Ulquiorra says.

But still–

She can’t just sit here and watch.

The thing wearing Kurosaki-kun’s body stabs Ishida-kun and she screams.

I reject!

And then she’s in her room, on the dawn of that terrible day, listening to the blonde shinigami explain the importance of the white clothes. “Matsuri-san,” she says, forgetting that she hadn’t introduced herself yet, “Matsuri-san, you have to help me.”

Matsuri hadn’t liked her much, in that one. Not much else changed besides that.

Or the next, or the next, or the next.

But something’s gone wrong, now. So terribly, completely, utterly wrong. Even more so than before. Even more so than Kurosaki-kun’s walking corpse that she can never truly unwind out of existence – oh, she hates this part, she truly does – and she prepares herself for the impact, for Ulquiorra and Kurosaki-kun and Ishida-kun, and there’s Loly and Menoly behind her, and then–

Matsuri’s flower bursts into flames.

“Hold on to this for me, won’t you?” she'd said. “It was a gift from Konoka-sama.”

Orihime had felt the weight of her hairpins very keenly as she’d accepted, gingerly tucking it away. She’d accepted the explanations so easily – “I’m such a messy fighter, you know, and Gin always aims where it hurts, the jerk. And… I don’t think Seigen-sama likes looking at it very much.”

Seigen-sama has barely looked at her in all the time Orihime’s known her. It wasn’t always like that, she knows, and she’d thought that explained it.

But then Matsuri’s flower bursts into flames, and a tiger emerges.

It shakes its mane, fends off Loly and Menoly with frustrating ease, and hisses. The voice that emerges from it rings distantly familiar, almost like– “Kotomaru,” she recognises suddenly, except… that can’t be right. Can zanpakuto even exist outside their blades like this? And if Kotomaru is here–

What is Matsuri fighting with?

“You still don’t get it? She went off to die.”

That can’t be.

She’d handed her the flower and smiled. Tucked the red rope into it so lovingly, like she meant every word. Just for safekeeping, truly. She’d thought– she’d thought she finally got it right this time, finally convinced Matsuri from the start–

“As long as either one survives, so too will I. She left me here to protect you.”

“No,” Orihime says, “no, no, you can’t, you’re– you’re her sword! You have to go to her!”

Kotomaru sniffs. “I cannot. I have been excised, cast out from the whole. I am no longer the part of the entity that calls itself both Kotomaru and Ryujomaru. I am only Kotomaru, and my only vessel is in your hands.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

She’d known– of course, Ichimaru had been planning something, and this time around Matsuri had acted first, but–

Not like this.

Even if it takes another dozen tries, not like this.

Orihime is the problem. This whole thing – Kurosaki-kun’s corpse, Ulquiorra, Matsuri – if she hadn’t been here… there must be another way.

Another path, beyond Hueco Mundo. Before Matsuri had to raise her sword on her brother. Before anything started at all.

Kotomaru flinches, eyes glassy and distant. A gut-wrenching scream echoes from outside the tower, in that same hauntingly familiar voice that Kotomaru used. Orihime clutches the flower, red rope wrapped around her hands.

First, she thinks, I’ll come find you. Wherever you are. If Aizen could do it, Urahara-san can, too. She’ll make sure of it.

Then, with Kotomaru’s warmth wrapped around her–

I reject.

[ohagi-bites]

—Tengen has some kind of high tech prosthetic, mentions of the deaths in the final battle, I decided that Sanemi and Giyuu and the surviving kamaboko squad don’t have the Hashira marks bc of how long after the final battle this takes place. (One of) Tengens daughters, had with Y/N. Ojisan means uncle and Oniisan means big brother—

Have some fluff. Hopefully it can make up for the baby angst I gave y’all.

Tengen stares at the small figure across the table from him, her hands keeping his in place as she squints at him, her gaze fierce.

Barely four foot eight, with hair the same length and texture as his, eyes like yours, a smile like Hina’s, a voice like Suma’s and an attitude like Makio’s, Uzui Kyoji was an absolute terror. And the love of his life.

Tengen smiles as she digs through the pouch that her onii san gave her for her birthday last year to pull out an array of nail polish, the squat glass bottles littering the tabletop in front of her.

“Whatcha thinking, baby?” Tengen asks, his deep voice rumbling.

“Tryna decide what to make your nails look,” the ten year old answers brightly, scrutinizing the rainbow of shades before her and studying her father’s nails. “Did Mama do your nails last?”

Tengen chuckles. “Which one, sweetheart?”

“Mama Maki.”

A grin. “How’d you know?”

“She always put a tiny heart somewhere.” Kyoji dips a cotton tip into the nail polish remover and taps the heart she found on his ring finger nail. “It was green this time.”

Tengen smiles fondly and ruffles her hair carefully. Kyoji smiles and leans into his touch. “Does it hurt today?”

Tengen glances at where the skin graft fibers blend into his wrist. “No, baby. Not today.”

Kyoji pouts. “I heard you tell Mommy it stung.”

Tengens gaze softens at the concern in his daughter’s voice. “Sometimes there’s a bit of a bite when we put it on, but other than that, it’s okay!”

Kyoji’s brow scrunches and she finishes scrubbing off all the polish that Makio did. “But it doesn’t hurt now?”

“No, baby. It doesn’t.” He watches as she picks out a vibrant yellow and begins applying a top coat. “Yellow?” He asks in surprise. “That’s certainly flashy.”

“Shhh,” Kyoji scolds. “Lemme work.”

After a few minutes she starts talking. “I think Ojisan was crying again yesterday.”

“Oh yeah? What makes you say that, honey?”

Kyoji finishes his first hand and reaches for the techno prosthetic. “Because onii san was hugging Oji Gyuu. And he was really upset. Which must mean Oji Nemi was crying about something… right?”

Tengen blinks at her perceptiveness. Yes, it was true that Sanemi was having a particularly rough time, seeing as yesterday was the anniversary of his younger brothers death. It was the anniversary of a lot of deaths of good people… but something about this year was particularly hard for Sanemi. Once the Wind Hashira had exhausted himself and fell asleep, Tanjiro managed to find Giyuu to lend him some moral support. The dedication the wind and water Hashiras have for one another always astounds Tengen.

“Oji Nemi was just… upset about something, baby,” he says gently. “Someone he really loved died a couple years before you were born and yesterday was the anniversary of their death.”

Kyoji’s eyes look sad as she picks up a bold vermillion and starts painting patterns onto the yellow nails. “Who was it?”

Tengen swallows at her question. “His little brother. You would’ve loved him, baby girl. Your onii san was pretty close to him.”

“Which one?” She asks, taking a wood splinter out of the bag to clean the detail.

“Technically all of them, but especially Tanjiro,” Tengen says, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his neck, but Kyoji’s glare makes him out his hand back down. “Your onii Nezuko is a lot like him.”

Kyoji scrunches her nose. “Is that why Oji Nemi likes her so much? Because she reminds her of his brother?”

“Could be,” Tengen says sadly. He blinks, seeing the detail his daughter is putting into his nails and laughs. “Oh, my love, what are you doing here?”

Kyoji finishes and twists the cap back on the red and leans back, looking down hesitantly. Tengen, sensing this, cranes his head to look her in her eyes. “What is it, baby girl?”

Kyoji bites her lip. “I don’t want you to be upset…”

Tengen laughs lightly. “Never, sweetheart. Now what’s up?”

“I just thought they should be special today,” she says quietly.

“Why today?” Tengen asks, tilting his head in confusion.

Kyoji swallows and looks down, not wanting to see the expression on her father’s face as she says “It… It’s Oji Ren’s birthday, isn’t it?”

Tengen feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. “W-what?”

“I heard Mama and Mommy talking about it and they said you probably wouldn’t want them to do anything to celebrate because you’d wanna be alone but… but I don’t want you to forget about Oji Ren! So I… I did your nails… to match him…”

Tengen stares down at the flame pattern on his nails, the care poured into them evident. His heart aches as he looks at his daughter. His headstrong, loving daughter who saw a picture of the man who she calls Oji Ren, because she was too little to say Rengoku, and decided she wanted her hair the same color as his. His daughter, who he named after his best friend, who he lost because he wasn’t there for him. His daughter, whose compassion knows no end and is more attentive than a ten year old should be.

“Oh, Kyoji…” he leans across the table and picks her up to set her in his lap. “Baby, I could never forget your Oji Ren. Ever.” He tucks a lock of red behind her ear. “He’s been my best friend since I formally married your mothers—“

“Formally?”

“We were married before I became a Hashira, but didn’t make it official with a small ceremony u til after,” Tengen explains. “Your Oji Ren was my best man.”

Kyoji cocks her head to the side. “Do you miss him?”

“Every day,” Tengen says softly, nuzzling against his daughter’s flame patterned hair. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“I know that some day, I’ll find him again. He’s just waiting for us. And when we see him, you’ll get he biggest hug you’ve ever gotten.”

Kyoji gasps. “Really?”

Tengen smiles. “Really. I just know your Oji Ren would gobble you right up, honey.”

Kyoji giggles as her dad pokes her stomach playfully.

“And he’ll tell you just how much you look like your mother— all four of them, really— and how beautiful you are and…”

Tengen tucks his daughter’s hair behind her ear, tears blurring at the flame designs she did, the memories he had with his best friend coming to mind and pouring out to tell Kyoji about her Oji Ren.

Don’t worry, Kyojuro, he thinks to himself. I will make you proud. You can count on that.

[lewis-winters]

If Easy Company is in a Zombie Apocalypse, what would be their choice of weapon and how will they fight?

1. Dick Winters

2. Lewis Nixon

3. Harry Welsh

4. Ronald Speirs

5. Carwood Lipton

6. Buck Compton

7. Don Malarkey

8. Joe Toye

9. Joe Liebgott

10. David Webster

Uhhhhhh last zombie media I consumed was Last of Us and there wasn't really much? zombie fighting in it (bc the focus was on the human condition)? so I am... gonna valiantly try.

1) Dick Winters - I mean. The man wants to be in control at all times. He has multiple weapons for sure. Rifle, of course, classic. But he has multiple knives hidden on his person and an emergency pistol in his belt. He probably prefers the knives + stealth, though, especially if zombies are attracted to sound. If he can kill quietly and quickly, he will. But he just strikes me as the kinda person who just. Would avoid places like cities or crowded towns in the first place and be very strategic about where they'd go? Sure, it's inevitable that you'd run into some festering, shambling corpse somewhere while hunting for supplies but if he has a choice, he will look for the road of least resistance. Even if it'll take twice as long.

2) Lewis Nixon - man's still alive? Dude, the boy has no will to live as it is. He barely survived the first wave by the skin of his teeth. Probably missing a hand after he got bit and Dick refused to watch him turn or murder him. Lewis did not fire a single bullet during the war what makes you think he'd be the same now? He has a knife. That's it. He barely knows how to use it, doesn't want to use it. When in the thick of an attack with the group, he's always in the middle, surrounded by the others, or at the back, where he's most protected. It's a group choice, because he's better at logistics and keeping everyone together. His whole mind is a map, he knows where they'd be safest for a time. Really good at sweet talking and trading with other groups too. He spends half the apocalypse drunk as all hell, but he's otherwise useful. When alone vs. zombies, he'd rather take his chances running.

3) Harry Welsh - something you can find in a gardening shed, probably. A machete? Or a pair of gardening sheers? something that, when you look at it, reminds you of home and is in great juxtaposition to all the gore dripping from it. maybe even a kitchen knife. or, if you want something really fun, a fireplace poker? or the body of a lamp. those long thin iron ones with a strong metal base? sans bulb and shade, dripping gore everywhere. he swings things around aimlessly, whatever gets caught in his path is an unlucky son of a bitch. there's a method to the madness, of course, but... well. even he doesn't know what it is just yet.

4) Ronald Speirs - my dude was in a military base when shit went down, buddy's in a TANK. ok, I kid, but yeah. Rifle. and various pistols........ lowkey? could see him as one of those. end-of-the-world conspiracy theorists pre-apocalypse, who was very much vindicated when the dead started to rise. man is THRIVING in this apocalypse, because he's a weirdo like that.

5) Carwood Lipton - huh. probably a repurposed javelin or something? i hesitate to say sword, because he's doesn't strike me as the sword type, but he definitely strikes me as a 'hit something very hard until the head caves in' kinda guy? or tbh just something boring and reliable, like a sawed off shot gun. he has only a limited number of bullets, so he's not gonna be using it a lot. I imagine when it's manageable, he's using the OH I KNOW. HE HAS AN AXE. YES. boy's from virginia he's a lumberjack for SURE. and that was the first thing he picked up the second the hordes started advancing. he uses the axe when it's manageable, but when the going gets tough, he gets everyone behind him and goes to take out as many as he can with his shotgun. but he works best with a team who has multiple other weapons, for sure. i could imagine him taking the forefront, whacking some zombies, and trusting explicitly those behind him who're offering support thru gun power, not to accidentally shoot him with a stray bullet while he's taking down zombies close range. it takes a lot of trust to do this, I feel. and he has a lot of it. maybe too much.

6) Buck Compton - BASEBALL BAT WRAPPED IN BARBED WIRE. NEED I SAY MORE. probably has a few grenades on him as well that he scrounged up. he's got a wicked aim.

7) Don Malarkey - man's still alive? he's barely holding on. he had a gun, but they took it away because they feared he was getting suicidal. he gets something back later on, maybe a revolver, but only a limited amount of bullets. he has a small k-bar knife. but that's about it. sometimes, a very primal rage takes over him, and he can do some damage with just his bare hands, but those moments grow fewer and farther between the more they go on. ya know? life's hard in the apocalypse. before all that of course, he used to be real good at mixing gunpowders and making home made pipe bombs. but ever since skip died. well.

8) Joe Toye - mans has a SWORD and you fucking KNOW IT. it can be anything your heart wants. a katana? sure! a broad sword? whatever you say goes babey! a fucking... claymore? YES!! ALRIGHT!!!! I'm too enthusiastic about this bc I am not above admitting I find Joe's arms hot. all I'm saying is those arms? made to swing around a sword. yes they are. and he's a fucking pro at it too, you just know he is. i dunno if he has his amputation before, or during the end of the world, but both paths have many implications to them, and they'd be interesting to explore.

9) Joe Liebgott - SO FUN FACT ROSS MCCALL WAS ACTUALLY IN FEAR THE WALKING DEAD his character gets shot and killed by Marines and then he turns into a zombie. poor guy got his throat slit. he just wanted to help :((( anyway. Lieb's designated get away driver of the group. his car is the weapon. he's run over HORDES of zombies before, and he'll do it again! he prolly keeps like a small handgun as protection when he's waiting outside for the rest of the group, keeping the engine going in case they need to make a quick getaway.

10) David Webster - a MIRACLE this boy is still alive. he took archery as an extra curicular while he was in Harvard, and he liked it enough to keep up with it until his 3rd year, when it all started. man is constantly picking up arrows after himself. scrounging for new ones. I say... in formation he's definitely at the back, with Nix and Don and they cover for him a lot since he's long distance. but in a pinch he can whack somebody good with his bow. one of those heavy duty hunting ones, too. on his own... well. he probably sticks to high places, or hidden spots where he can get a jump on zombies or anyone else, before they can get a jump on him.

[fromcharliehale]

| milly alcock & she/her | Welcome to the crossroads, CHARLOTTE (CHARLIE) HALE. Another lost soul that stumbled across a fallen tree in their path. They appear to be TWENTY FOUR years old, but it’s hard to tell. The town bares no resemblance to SEATTLE WASHINGTON, are you sure we can trust them? Seeing as they ended up here because, SHE WAS WALKING HOME FROM A PARTY. They definitely weren’t looking to end up here. Now they’ll have to rely on being OUTGOING to survive. Hopefully their IMPUSLIVENESS doesn’t get in the way of that. I guess if we’re going to pass the time tonight, might as well request THE MAGIC by THE ACES. Oh, and one more thing, your new role here will be STORE CLERK. We’ll be sending out welcoming party over to the COLONY HOUSE. Welcome to Oblitus, the only thing you have to remember, when the sun sets– don’t open the door.

BASIC INFORMATION

NAME: charlotte hale

NICKNAMES: charlie, charles, maybe lott if she likes you, never lottie

BIRTHDAY: april 29th

AGE: 24

HOMETOWN: seattle, washington

BIRTHPLACE: san francisco, california

RELIGION: atheist

EDUCATION: senor at the university of washington

RELATIONSHIP STATUS/FAMILY: single (has a messy situationship back home but lets not think about that). her parents are divorced and she has one younger brother

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS

HEIGHT: 5'5"

EYES: blue

HAIR: dyed blonde, cut into a bob just below her chin

BUILD: slim

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: has her septum pierced

PERSONALITY & BEHAVIOR

HOBBIES: collecting vinyl even though she doesn't own a record player, going to parties, she used to paint as a kid but doesn't anymore

LIKES: ice cold water, saying she doesn't smoke but always does when she drinks, rewatching the same shows over again, changing her hair at any minor inconvenience

DISLIKES: being told she can't do something, small talk, dogs

QUIRKS: scrunches up her nose when she talks sometimes

STRENGTHS: strong willed, outgoing, kind

WEAKNESSES: impulsive, stubborn, immature

WHERE WAS YOUR CHARACTER WHEN THEY SAW THE TREE AND THE MURDER OF CROWS? WHERE WERE THEY GOING? WERE THEY TRAVELLING ALONE? HOW DID THEY FEEL?

charlie had been out at a party like she does most weekends, just a typical college party, nothing special. she had a few too many drinks and decided to just walk home because the party was only a few blocks away from her apartment on the edge of campus, shouldn't have been more than 15 minutes. as she was walking down the empty street, she came upon the tree. it was weird, but she didn't think anything of it, all she was thinking about was getting home and the left over mexican food in her fridge she was going to destroy when she got home. she kept walking until she realized she didn't know where she was. did she take a wrong turn? was she more drunk than she thought she was?

DESCRIBE YOUR CHARACTERS FIRST DAY/NIGHT IN TOWN. DID THEY ARRIVE IN THE DAYTIME? WERE THEY WARNED BY THE RESIDENTS? DID THEY HAVE TO BE RESTRAINED?

it was night time when she arrived, she didn't know what was going on or where she was. something was coming after her, she didn't want to turn and look but she knew there was something following her. she ran to the first house she could find and begged them to let her in (wanted connection hello! el taylor has filled this) she was clearly confused. it didn't help that she was still drunk and when she woke up in the strangers house in the morning, she was agitated and had to be calmed down and told everything all over again.

WHAT DID THEY LEAVE BEHIND? WHAT WAS THEIR LIFE LIKE ON THE OUTSIDE?

charlie was working on her final year of college in seattle. she wasn't exactly someone with a lot of drive, preferred living in the moment than looking at the big picture. before college she lived in california with her mom and younger brother, she hasn't seen them since school started but they keep in touch with texts and calls. she had a pretty typical life before all of this, she liked her friends and she liked school but there wasn't too much going for her. she was studying psychology because it seemed like a pretty easy major but she wasn't even sure that's what she wanted to do with her life. she was a very good with the flow type of person.

OTHER: Pinterest board that i'm still working on

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton is walking in the street. Suddenly, there's a huge creature that crawls out of the sewers to attack him. Except when he tries to defend himself, someone screams to stop and then lots of people with cameras runs to scream at him for ruining a movie shooting. Oops.

Undertale Sans - Man, he got the scare of his life when a crocodile as big as him suddenly lunges out of the sewers to try and grab him. He even forgot how to teleport because of how shook he was. And then he just got confused as people starts to scream at him. Sans is too freaked out right now. He blips out of her and goes back to bed. Clearly he shouldn't have wake up today.

Undertale Papyrus - "Oh hello monster friend! Do you need something from the great Papyrus?" He is confused when the huge monster doesn't say anything, just staring at him deep in the eyes. Then all the movie people ran to him and screamed and he was even more confused. "What do you mean you're filming? OMG! YOU SHOULD HAVE SAY IT SOONER I DIDN'T TAKE MY WIG." Papyrus is not leaving. He wants to film a movie too! The poor producter will have to do with him wanting to be on every plan on the movie.

Underswap Sans - He got a call about some neighbours saying people had been releasing something in the sewers. When that huge crocodile tried to attack him, Blue jumped on his back like a superhero and stabs the back of its head multiple times, screaming like he's fighting Godzilla bare hands. Then he realises it's plastic. And that he just ruined a filming equipment. Welp. He's out of here, bye.

Underswap Papyrus - Honey falls on his back, screaming in panic and begging the thing to not kill him, whatever this is. He is terrified. It's actually so convincing the producter decide to go further and let the beast violently "eat" him. Honey sees his life flashes in front of his eyes sockets, before realising long minutes after he is not dead, just prisonner of the mouth of some plastic costume. And then he faints lol. He is in the final version of the movie, as the random guy that gets kill first.

Underfell Sans - His first reaction is to kill first, then to think. Before he realises it's a costume, the thing is completely destroyed, in pieces, nothing salvageable. The guys are very angry, but Red doesn't care. If you didn't want people to destroy your stuff, don't let the stuff lunge at people.

Underfell Papyrus - He gives the thing an unimpressed look. Is this thing challenging his authority? Edge huffs and lets out a terrifying growl. The thing growls back. Edge growls louder. What a meaningful conversation. This is going in the bloopers of the movie, everyone will mock him for years and years after this.

Horrortale Sans - He is triggered and will destroy the beast until it's in pieces at his feet. But uh, good luck to calm him down now that he is scared, confused and angry. As soon as he sees the humans coming, screaming, he starts to growl aggressively and he is ready to kill them too if they don't shut up. He has a huge headache and he's not sure what's going on, he needs space to calm down.

Horrortale Papyrus - Like Oak, he reacts extremely badly and just curls up on the floor in reflex. Like with Honey, the producer thought it would be fun to push it, but Willow is not Honey, and as soon the thing tries to get him, he is startled and fights with all he has to kill and survive. After that, Willow is on the floor, hyperventilating, and shooting at everything that is moving around him in fear he's going to be attack again. He's in the middle of a very bad panic attack and he will need Oak to calm down, because he doesn't feel safe at all right now.

Swapfell Sans - He doesn't think and uses a blaster to kill the thing with fire. It's very effective. There's nothing left of it. Nox doesn't care about all the people shooting and leaves, screaming to himself to hold on and not kill all these idiots. He's so mad.

Swapfell Papyrus - He smiles. He understood quickly it's just a big puppet. He loves it. Rus loves weird things, especially when he can use them to scare the shit out of his brother. Before the producer can say something, Rus drags the puppet out of the sewers and teleports away with it. He's going to prank his brother with it now. He's trembling with excitement.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He stays still, not even blinking. He can see it's plastic, and that's really ugly. As the film people are running to him, he just looks at them and smirks. "YOU THINK YOU CAN WIN AN OSCAR WITH THIS? PATHETIC." Then he criticizes everything for ten minutes. When he leaves, all the guys are curled up on the floor, crying like babies. Wine feels so powerful right now.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He screams like he's getting murdered. He tries to run away, but he trips on the puppet strings, making it fall on him and scream even more. Coffee is fighting to not be eaten, crying in fear, while everyone is just... watching at him. Because the puppett is clearly just a head and the thing hitting him is just... His own leg. What a day.

[space-ninja-fashion-show]

Oh fuck i am having Thoughts about North and Making Changes To Their Appearance

There's this detail I've yet to talk about and it'd be So much easier if I drew what their outfit looks like but Anyway. They're wearing a poncho + a buttoned shirt underneath, and along the bottom hem of that shirt, there's little sigils. Embroidered. Clumsily, by hand

It started out as a hopeless bid at something like dog tags, but with no access to something as durable. To show, hidden, their allegiance to the factions they were helping during TNW, hoping that if they're injured and found by them, that they'll recognise them as a friend thanks to the sigils

Once they started growing loyalty for this world, it also served another purpose: they knew that every day, every waking up is another chance they'll find themself back in Duviri. If that were to happen, and if by some ridiculous chance their clothes would retain the changes they had made to them anyway, they wanted to remember. They wanted to have just the tiniest thing to hold on to from their time in this world and from the ppl they had allied themselves with in a hopeless war

Post-TNW they eventually try to bring back the dogtag purpose, but no longer as "I'm a friend, pls don't kill me" but now instead "I'm a friend, pls don't kill me, pls return me home." But it's not easy to leave a home address that works in an entire system, for a group of constantly travelling ppl (sans the Camp and Zariman). They try to leave a pointer to Ordis anyway seeing as he's a central person in the group and also a spaceship and also North's first friend from this world, but all that ends up as is a clumsy lil thing of Ordis' burrito form. Which Ordis tries so hard to not act emotional about when North shows him

So it never ends up actually functioning as a dogtag kinda thing, but it Feels nice, to carry lil shapes that represent their friends, hidden in their clothes

But also along this same line i was thinking

I've talked already about North's issues with having a body, their disconnect from it, the fact that they don't look in mirrors, the fact that they don't alter their body in any way further to their liking. But also about how eventually, someday, they do get better. They do start to see their body more as theirs, do start to enjoy making it Feel more like theirs too. Someday, someday, far down the line, past returning to Duviri and who knows what else, but it happens

And i was thinking

The way that gets expressed is a tattoo. Not a facial one like we have in the game, not anything so obvious. No, something elsewhere, hidden easily under clothes instead of bared to the world the same way North themself is hidden under layers of walls and anxious survival. I don't know Where they get a tattoo, not sure yet where in this universe to assign tattoo tradition to aside from the blocky corpus/solari ones that aren't what i need here, but

It starts with a little snake on the inside of their right wrist

It expands over time, detail by detail, inked by many different hands, into a whole sleeve. Sigils and symbols and adventures and another snake, this one big enough to coil up around their arm. Hidden from outsiders under a careful layer of clothes, but growing almost as if alive

[the-worms-world]

ok so loke what if it is not a skeleton at all running the experiments. Oh my god i just had so many fucking ideas you do not even KNOW.

Ok so heres the sequence of events. lilgaster (ittybitty) survives the war. barely. is taken in by asgore and toriel. EvilBadguyScientist sees tinygaster wandering around sometimes, unattended. Not often, but sometimes all the same. barely ANYONE knows of this kid and eith all the hustle and bustle of keeping the underground running, who is really gonna notice one less weird little kid running around?

And besides. Yknow. Science, and all that stuff. They're a bit less smart than handplategrowngaster was/is, and as the royal scientist, they've made a lot of soul theory progress!! Haven't made the core, but there's a semi-funtional system up and running... most of the time.

they have been assigned to try to find alternate ways to break the barrier! They believe that just maybe. Monster souls could be manipulated or might just hold the key to figure out how *exactly* the barrier works. Problem is, How TheFuck Do You Go About Adking for Someone To Be MaybeTortured for a CHANCE at figuring out how the barrier works??? and god knows asgore would forbid it, too, but this is the most promising step for a mystery they have sunk *quite* a lot of time and energy and resources into and it effects *everyone.* So, logically... take it private. Keep it secret. Under lock and key. And all you need now is something to test on...

And there's that little kid again, ~~young and malleable.~~ all alone and unknown and looks so, so alone. (He's not alone. Unbeknown to EvilBadGuy. He's under the king and queen's care, but with how withdrawn he is, barely anyone has met him.) And they think.... It's just one kid. Alone, all the time, they never seem to have any friends, so nobody would really *hurt* from the loss of the kid... so the distorted, hard-to-understand kid's soul turns blue and he flies away, away, stolen inti the darkness.

Asgore and Toriel's first kid can't be found anywhere. Their hearts break for the first of many times down here. There's a mourning period, and most assume the kid must have fallen down waterfall or met some other unfortunate, accidental fate.

Kid acquired! Schemes: InMotion. Just one probably won't be enough, so... well, research has shown under proper circumstances, removed monster tissues- if given a bit of SOUL from the monster the tissues were taken from- are probably able to grow by themselves. ...

Better them than me, the scientist reflects, watching the laser shoot down, and the screaming of the kid- they need to stop referring to it as a kid, now on- and the laser seem to blend together, an awful unharmonized chorus. Two arms, the scientist figures they might as well, you know?

Chipping the soul away is *significantly* harder and much more... hands-on. The- It passes out fairly early on. It is probably for the better- that screaming would of been incredibly distracting.

Three tubes are prepared. It goes into the first one- and is surely won't survive outside of stasis, it's HOPE has withered in concerningly drastic amounts during the week it has been here. The first of the plate and infused soulchip go onto the second tube, and then the other in the third. Now it's just a waiting game- for the first of the array's wounds to stop bleeding, so to speak, and the second and third to grow.

BAM! everything then on is a p much direct continuation of handplates, with them being labeled ???0-W, ???1-S, and ???2-P. Gaster is naturally the most miserable out of the three, and somehow hovers with even less HOPE than Sans does. He was always a quiet kid, weighted down by the things he witnessed and survived, then a brief respite of warmtj and love by the Dreemurr family, then back into misery. He almost died... kind of a lot, compared to the other two. It seems to perk up at the unnatural skeleton lifeforms, but only by so much.

Someone mentioned that I hadn’t drawn Gaster in one of the hospital gowns yet. Not as much fun from the other side, is it!

Not sure who’d be doing this to him though. The brothers would never! And without a brother to support him through it, I’m not sure he’d survive…

[index] [patreon]

[darkspace7]

[That Which Protects The Falling Rain] Pt.2

[Part 1]

[Chapter Summary]

"So You Somehow Survived The Apocalypse And Have Jumped Timelines, What Do You Do Next? Get Sick And Spend A Week Regretting Life Apparently." A Novella By Uryū Ishida (Co-Written By Ichigo Kurosaki) Or, the aftermath of the first chapter in which we see first hand how things can never be easy for a traumatized teenager who somehow managed to kill God several times over. Also some friends show up. Misunderstandings ensue.

[A/N]

Anyways, here's the next chapter which I'm just as surprised as you all that this thing exists. And to think it only took me a damned year and running through two different laptops bring it to you all. (May you find peace in whatever tech afterlife there may be my dear Toshiba-san and let Honne-san carry on your memory for years to come.) It...most certainly has been a year. Well, here's ya'll's bunch of headcanons and worldbuilding stacked together on top of one another in a trenchcoat. Enjoy.

His head ached.

(…Urgh. What the fuck happened? Did I get rammed by a truck?)

Feeling as though he had just fell from a great height, consciousness slowly returned to him as he made his journey out from the oppressive dark into the muzzy blur that was the waking world.

(Maybe a hollow chucked me into the side of a building again. Holy fucking shit that hurts…)

With a slit eye, he stared out at the fuzzed miscellanea that surrounded himself with a brief haze of confusion until the cobwebs dusted themselves from his mind and he recalled –oh yeah, that’s right, I wear glasses- and groped around himself searchingly. Upon location, he slipped them on and waited as the world resolved itself around him and a few things made themselves glaringly apparent.

The first: he felt absolutely awful. There was a deep ache down to his very soul and every single piece of him felt raw. As if he had been stripped of his skin and then had it stretched over his bare skeleton and pinned back into place by a bunch of searing hot sewing needles prickling his…well…everything.

Second: he was currently back at home, in his bedroom with no real idea as to how he had come to be there. However, he had the indescribable notion that he had previously been somewhere very different and nowhere even remotely near the place whatsoever. (But if that were the case then just where had he been? And how…)

(Don’t think about it.)

And finally the most important thing: why the hell was he on the floor of all things? Urgh. (Even if he did have a rather nicely done rug that he had stitched together all by himself in his spare time –thank you very much- covering the cold hardwood beneath that was still asking for any variety of aches and pains that would hit him the very moment he sat up.) Had he had a nightmare and accidentally rolled out of bed? Well, that would explain the vague sense of creeping dread that lingered at the fringes of his mind. As if he were forgetting something important.

(Don’t think about it.)

(It had been a while since he’d had a nightmare, now that he thought about it. Truly, when had been the last time he’d woken up in a cold sweat with the air all knotted up in his chest as he struggled to breathe. Hand outstretched as he continued to reach for out for his mother grandfather but was never quite able to catch as it faded to black. How he bit back the silent screams that wanted to escape as so not to wake his sisters or his old man with the noise. But didn’t he live alone? He was an only child after all and -outside of brief snippets brought about some by rather extenuating circumstances- he hadn’t actually held a conversation with his father in literal ages. Calling their relationship strained would be generous at the best of times and it would seem as they would never even have a chance to mend it because the very last time he had saw the man it had been as he was fishing the silvered arrow out from his emaciated corpse-)

(Don’t think about it.)

(Hold on a second, even in the middle of the night it was never this quiet at his house. Where were the soft sounds of his sisters puttering about? The thuds of old goat-face as he trounced about getting himself ready for another long day at the clinic? Hell, he couldn’t even hear Kon as he scurried about doing god-knows-what like the little menace he was. Also his room looked nothing like this? Where the fuck was he???)

“Ichigo. Oh my god, just shut up. You’re giving me a headache.” He groused, staring blankly up at his ceiling.

…Wait.

(…Ishida?)

“…Ichigo???”

…Oh shit.

He jerked up (ignoring the rolling twist of his stomach as he did so) with a gasp as the feeling of hot knives were suddenly being rammed through his skull as he they thought about it.

Clutching at his head as if his life depended on it, short breaths hissed through gritted teeth as the fiery static subsided leaving a bitterly cold ache in its wake. He let out a hysterical half-sob as things continued to click into place as he remembered.

And oh dear sweet god did he remember.

(‘That…that was just a nightmare?’ It wasn’t. ‘All of that actually happened?’ Yeah...)

And now? After suffering through all of …that… they were just –what- shunted off to some alternate dimension? Thrown back in in time? Or maybe he genuinely had went mad from the stress of all those battle and what he was experiencing now was all just a dying dream as the void slowly consumed his soul.

(How morbid.)

But…

But if they truly had made it back…

Turned back the swing of the pendulum to before…

(Before Aizen had made his grandiose move. Before Yhwach rose up from the millennia old shadows with his army to enact his revenge. Before the subsequent collision. Before he failed so thoroughly at his role as a protector, swept up instead by the whims of supposed fate. Before he foolishly sought a place at the royal bastard’s side just so he could drive a stake in his deadened heart at the first chance. Before their thoughtlessness got everyone killed.)

He had to be certain. He had to check.

(Quick get your phone, check it! Hurry!)

The mad dash for the device had his sock-clad feet slip up on the bare hardwood and in the process he smacked his arm into the bedside table before he caught himself on its edge. Ignoring the bruise that was sure to form, he swiped the object from its charging dock. With a sense of trepidation, he flipped it open, wide eyes scanning for the date and stared.

There on the digital readout they stood, the numbers a stark contrast against his pale background. Right now, it was currently three-fifteen in the morning, around two years off from the date he last remembered. It hadn’t been a dream.

(It wasn’t a dream. They were back. Oh my god-)

At a loss for words, he let the device clatter to the ground, bonelessly following suit as he was slowly but surely consumed by the sort of numb disassociation that came from experiencing two weeks’ worth of repressed emotions from a lost future all at once.

He stared blankly at his hands.

They were shaking.

(I can’t believe it, we’re really back! This means that bondage-fucker’s plan actually worked holy fuck-)

Yeah, great.

The indistinct weight of another’s attention, shifting at the edge of one’s perception that could be felt but only just so. The subtle widening of eyes unseen.

(Ah, hey Uryū you good?)

Was he…good?

(Okay, yep. Stupid question. Ah...)

A wince trailed by conciliatory motion. The throes of night given substance, black-as-pitch and impossibly heavy but so very kind. This presence settled tentatively upon his shoulders. (Because of course he would; that even like this he would prioritize others over himself because that’s just who Ichigo was. Even if it was in part because of your own actions that led to everyone else getting killed –himself included- he’d still have the heart to treat you like a care-worn quilt. Even if you didn’t really deserve it.)

His breath hitched.

(Hey, easy, none of that now. I need you to do something for me, real important. Yeah? Think you can manage it?)

What?

(Okay, so I’m gonna need you to breathe in to the count of five, hold it, then release. Could you do that for me?)

He grimaced faintly. Why was he asking him to do something so asinine?

(Don’t question it dumbass. Just do it. Yeah, just like that. In…)

And so he did, despite feeling like a total idiot, the teen continued follow along to the beat of the other’s directions. But even so, he couldn’t help but notice as the knot in his chest seemed to lessen a bit more with every passing moment.

(Hold it. Keep at it. You’re doing fine.)

Ah, wait. He was having a panic attack wasn’t he? Like himself, Ichigo grew up among medical staff so it figures that he would have some sense of what to do if something like this occurred. (So why was it that he couldn’t have remembered the steps himself and spared them both the trouble of having to sit through something like this?How pathetic.)

(…And release. There. Now, you holding up a bit better?)

As he came back to himself, the presence drew back slightly but lingered around the edge of perception, almost as if uncertain whether or not to leave him be. Regardless, he didn’t quite trust the stability of his voice at the moment so in lieu of that he aimed a wave of weary appreciation in the other’s general vicinity. And judging by the sensation of a terse nod not his own, he understood.

(Okay? So…we’re in the past. Or an alternate dimension. Or...something. Holy shit. Okay, focus. Now. What do we do next? We can’t fuck this up like we did last time. So the main thing now is: we need a plan.)

“Mhm.” He agreed, blearily allowing gravity to draw him back down to the floor. The teen let himself sink into the soft blue-and-white rug. Face somewhat muffled, he said: “I’m open to suggestions.”

So, following Ichigo’s lead, they began to hash things out with the starting bullet point being the one thing they did know and then tacked on to that.

(Now, just so we're clear, this is all operating under those previously mentioned assumptions because the alternatives are just...no. Got it?)

A nod.

(Good. Okay, so as it currently stands that whole prophecy shit hasn’t fully come into play yet so we have a little bit of a leeway on that front. The way I figure it, Yhwach won’t be at his full power for another two years –give or take- which gives a set span of time that we can use for preparation. We’ll need every second of it too because, realistically, any hope we have right now of just offing him and being done with it we probably can’t feasibly pull off.)

“That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” He said into the carpet only to earn the feeling of a mildly annoyed look and gentle thwack on his already aching head. He rolled his eyes with a grumble as the other –satisfied that there would be no further interruption- settled.

(As I was saying: That’s because I guarantee you the moment we do try poking around a bit, we risk not only setting his entire Quincy army on us but any fumbling with that will probably alert the Gotei 13 and by extension Sōsuke. We can’t forget that right now he has that bullshit hypnosis spell over everyone over there because he’s still pretending to be a good guy or whatever. ‘Sides, you and me both know how badly we’d get our collective ass kicked trying to solo a war against three different armies at the same time.)

Not that they still wouldn’t try if things ever came to that.

But, still, priorities.

“We don’t exactly know the full scope of their resources or capabilities right now nor have we really had the chance to take stock of our own situation. I mean, it was kind of a mess toward the end there so how can we be sure of what carried over and what didn’t?” Dark eyes squinted up at the ceiling as he rolled over and proceeded to ignore the severe headache behind his eyes from the motion. He could curl into a ball and wish he was dead later there were more important things to deal with right now.

“There’s also the added mess of how we’re gonna find a place where we could feasibly test them out without everyone and their mother coming to snoop.” Maybe they could see about sneaking into his father’s practice range? But then again, that ran the risk of drawing the elder Quincy’s attention and then he would –urgh- actually have to talk to his dad.

(Right. Because that would definitely lead to some awkward questions. Good point. Uh, hey Uryū what do you figure would happen if you were to square up two instances of something like “The Almighty” against one another? Would they be matched and cancel each other out or would that, like, break reality or something?)

They contemplated this for a second before deciding it was something to come back to later.

(So training and then what? More spy shit? Scoping things out?...Maybe going to grab you some painkillers or something?)

Ignoring that last jab he let his eyes fall shut, “I was thinking more along the lines of gathering allies.” He could sense the other perk up a bit. “On the Quincy side of things, I know for certain that there’s at least one person we could probably convince to join our cause and that could potentially give us an in to what the others are doing right now.” He carded his hand through the carpet’s fibers, blue-&-white wool soft against callused fingers. “Not only that, but we’d also have to find some way to sway your Reaper friends to our side. Because I hate to say it but without their added firepower the chances of us actually pulling off this little venture are next to nil. Whatever we do, we have to make sure it’s done right from the very outset if we want any of it to go according to plan.”

(Urgh, check your phrasing dude. The way that you said it there makes it feel like you’re trying to pull off a bootleg Sōsuke impression or something. Gross.)

With his free hand the teen flipped him off.

(Alright, sheesh. Don’t bite my head off. Anyways… So to sum it all up: The main issue we’re facing right now is lack of resources and we can’t do much until we have more info on how to go about getting those resources and so as it stands we’ll probably have to wing it until can be sure there are people in our corner that we can trust to get this shit done.)

“Yeah. Basically.”

(…We’ve done more with worse odds.)

“…That’s not very comforting, Ichigo.”

(I know but it’s all I’ve got so deal with it.)

The mutual urge of wanting to stick a tongue out at the other was a strong one and he would have probably followed through on it if his stomach hadn’t picked that exact moment to turn over on itself. He stifled a moan as he rode it out, hand clenching and unclenching with every wave of pain. Shit. Was it just him or was it warmer in there than usual? To distract himself from heat licking at his veins (and the increasing wave of concern he could feel radiating out from the other) he offered: “B-But on the brightside I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones who remember any of this anyway. So unlike everyone else we’re not starting at zero. We have the advantage.”

(…Right, okay. That brings us to up to what stuff we could change and what we probably shouldn’t.)

He nodded. “True, if we change too much that could be bad too. All that knowledge would be useless and…” Just the very thought of seeing the others have to face a world worse off than the one prior left a lump in his throat. (No. Absolutely not. That cannot be allowed to happen. I’ll protect them, this time.)

(I won’t watch them die again. I r e f u s e.)

Swallowing thickly, the sensation of bile built at the back of his throat alongside a groan. He pressed his palms to his eyes and let out a curse, low and vehement. His body was already feeling like an overused pincushion and this sure as hell didn’t help any. He couldn’t deny it any longer, something was wrong. Of course being thrown into an alternate past what-have-you as they had been would have some sort of cost because why wouldn’t it? God, nothing could ever be easy for them, could it?

And then there was Ichigo hovering behind his eyes, the other teen’s agitation practically overflowing from the writhing mass of eventide-in-shadowy dark. The balmy presence pressed forward, likely spurred on by his waning attention. He could feel the unspoken question on the other’s non-existent lips.–

Was he okay?

–So he hurriedly pushed himself up and bolted for the bathroom to release the meager contents of his stomach.

To which the answer was: No. He was not.

{+-----}>

Uryū Ishida was not a happy camper.

Between the ever-worsening waves of pain rolling throughout his very being as he clung to the seat of chilled porcelain they managed to work out that if your (admittedly overpowered) future self is suddenly dumped into your past body with no preparation or warning whatsoever it tends to have rather severe consequences.

Obviously.

The centerpiece of this being that evidently the sheer existence of their combined spiritual pressure was incompatible with his present, very mortal, and squishy body.

Which made sense, he supposed, seeing as they were currently a slapdash hodgepodge of Gemischt Quincy, an imprint of the genetic medley that had been Ichigo Kurosaki, the scrapings of the God-Progenitor of pretty much all modern day Quincy that had come from when aforementioned teenager had consumed the other, and whatever the holy fuck Aizen tossed in with that glowing-death-orb of his at the last minute before he too decided to dip out from existence.

(Sōsuke, still capable of screwing them over even from beyond the grave, the fucking bastard.)

Really, it was no wonder that his body had no idea how to deal with that clusterfuck of a mess. Hell, even he had trouble wrapping his head around it and he was living it. Even so, do you know what happens when a body doesn’t know how to deal with something exceedingly confusing and stressful? It tends to break down.

Violently.

But, like the deus ex machina it assuredly was, it seemed the hōgokyu was not quite done dragging him through the ringer with all the reality-bending fuckery it was known for.

Again and again, it felt as though every little piece of him was being ripped asunder only to be slapped back together not a half-second later by the scraps of the purple wishing-orb’s lingering essence in a twisted loop of make-unmake-remake. And you know, experiencing every single solitary second of this with not a moment’s chance to breathe before the whole process restarted itself as the body simultaneously tried to keep itself alive and reject its very presence really fucking sucked.

Fuck, the only reason it seemed he had not lost himself to the pain was that there was too much riding on this whole venture for him to even dare to dream of doing so. Combine that with the fact that he was also fueled by a spectacular amount of what was equal parts raw determination and sheer stubborn spite that had successfully kept him more-or-less sane –if not rather unhappy- during this whole ordeal.

(And –if failing even that- he still had Ichigo. The other’s seemingly uncanny ability to know when to swoop in and be able to distract him with the oddly soothing sensation of a hand carding through his dark hair and the steady stream of wordless nonsense that still somehow managed to heft the weight of -comfortsafedon’tworryyou’llbeokayI’mhere- that pulled him away from the tides of agony. Carrying him until he was close enough to shore that could finally take step back and breathe was something he would be eternally grateful for.)

So the teen had spent the next –he didn’t even know really…Day? Week? Time had lost all meaning to either of them as he drifted about the achy haze- alternating in the intermedium between staying curled up in his bed and being sprawled out in various spots around his modestly sized apartment as he not so low-key wanted to die.

And he likely would’ve stayed that way, contemplating how he thoroughly hated this new world already if it had not been for the sudden appearance of a loud knock upon his front door late one afternoon.

The teen groggily lifted his head from the warm blanket swathed couch from where he had decided to nest that morning and looked at the entryway with a sort disbelieving stare as he thought for a moment that he might have hallucinated the whole thing. That is until the sharp noise that once again cut through the silence of the living room proved that he –in fact- had not imagined it.

Had it really been so long that someone had finally taken note of his (or perhaps his previous self’s) leave of absence? Perhaps, but then again who would even care enough to then actually go through the effort of hunting down the rather out of the way building that he resided in for a not-so-quick social visit? He wracked his brain for a moment before quickly giving it up for a loss. Well, whoever it was they seemed really determined to get his attention if the way they were really going to town on that poor door was any indication.

But to open it and give them the satisfaction? Hm…

(Look, if it’s just some solicitors you can tell them to fuck off and then go back to wallowing in misery or whatever it is you want to do okay? Just go see who it is before they break down the damn door.)

He honestly didn’t want to get up from his spot though. It was warm there and the pain seemed to have lowered itself into almost tolerable levels today so he wasn’t really keen on doing anything that might’ve summoned the wretchedness back into existence.

…Even though the noise was kind of starting to give him a headache.

He wondered if he ignored them for long enough then maybe whoever was there would finally decide to give up and go away.

(Fat chance. Listen, if you aren’t going to do it then I will.)

Blue eyes widened as a flicker of alarm shot through him. Fumbling with the blanket’s grasp, he finally succeeded in extracting himself and sat up. “Ichigo don’t you dare-”

(For though the vast majority of their brief time together had admittedly been spent wracked with some form or pain or another they couldn’t say that they had been completely idle during the short reprieves. For a while they had attempted to return to their impromptu plotting session only to soon realize that they were getting nowhere. So, with nothing else to show for it, conversation once again shifted to other things.

Anything and everything that came to mind worked to serve as a distraction; from the stupid everyday banalities of their shared past– {such as the redhead’s lamentation for his personal book collection, now forever lost to time. And –really- with the way the other presented himself he would have never pegged him as a fan of Classical English literature with a focus on Shakespeare of all things. Although he had to admit, the unending variety of quotes that the teen could seemingly recall at the drop of a hat was both impressive and kind of dorky.} –to bodily quirks they would have never known about the other had this never happened– {There had been a rather nasty spot of dizziness earlier when the body had stood up too quickly that had managed to catch both boys flat-footed but before the elder teen could work himself into a tizzy Uryū sheepishly proceeded to admit that –actually- he might’ve have had naturally low blood pressure and that this sort of thing was not all that uncommon for him? This did nothing to assuage his concerns and despite the dark-haired boy’s repeated reassurances he still had his doubts. But as he sat back and watched as his friend chose to further expand his study on the modern caterpillar what with the veritable cocoon of assorted blankets now wrapped around his frame he decided he was willing to the matter drop…for now.} – it was all fair game.

But soon even those topics ran dry and in the lull of things the young Quincy finally turned to address the elephant in the room: their involuntary state of cohabitation. The whole mess was tricky enough as it was but if they didn’t want to spend the rest of their ungodly existence stuck alternating between snapping at each other’s heels and walking on eggshells then there was going to have to be some ground-rules.

And for the most part Ichigo agreed, if only for the sake of what was left of their collective sanities and the thin hope that this would help them successfully navigate their curious new…dynamic.

But still, who could have foreseen that the young hybrid’s past experience in wrangling unruly inner-selves would’ve come in handy when hashing out negotiations for shared bodily autonomy with his younger cousin/friend?)

But while that was surprisingly less stressful than what either teen expected for it to be that didn’t mean there hadn’t been any slip-ups in other fields, after all they were forging through untraversed ground here so there was bound to be some interesting incidents every now and again.

Such as the first time Uryū had found himself unintentionally shoved into the backseat by the elder teen. Something that had been an exceedingly unnerving event for both parties involved which had –thankfully- had only lasted about the span of a heartbeat before he somehow managed to wrestle the other’s presence back to wherever it was that the other currently resided.

(And even though the other had since apologised for it and he knew that Ichigo wouldn’t truly abuse this power without his consent unless something was deeply wrong because that just wasn’t who he was the incident remained etched in his mind. Just, the idea that someone else could take control like that brought forth an instinctual sort of panic that he couldn’t quite quash.)

But that was all that he managed to get out before he found himself being (oh so very gently) tugged away from the reins, unable to do anything but watch his body leveraged itself up and off the couch before moving over towards the door. He floundered for a bit before he found himself thrust back into control. The transition was so jarring that it sent a wave of dizziness strong through him that he had to clutch at the side of the genkan to stay upright.

As he waited for the nausea to pass he grimaced and was sure to radiate the sensation of absolute annoyance to which the other merely responded with the impression of being utterly unmoved. A raised brow and nod to the door in a silent ‘well, go on then’. Exasperated, he moved toward the door and braced himself.

“Asano, you complete dumbass.”

“Hey you’re the one who shoved me Ms. Enter-the-Dragon so that makes you just as guilty.”

“One, that’s a kung fu flick which is a completely separate thing. And two, that’s not how any of that works so just be a man and own up to it when you do stupid shit.”

“So??? Do you really think I know all the specifics about that stuff?” With arm folded across his chest, the remaining hand flapped about in a vague gesture. He grumbled the last bit under his breath, “And honestly I could say the same for you, freaking martial arts nut.”

“Bullshit, I know you know the difference and what was that you little turd?” She stalked forward.

“Ack! Mizuiro help me!”

“Ah, so you were at here after all.”

The other two froze halfway through their skit with a look on their faces not unlike a child caught with their hands in the snack drawer before in unison turning to face the newcomer.

“Oh, hey. Yeah, sorry about your plant. Someone got a little overzealous with their knocking.” She jerked her head over to where the poor thing sat; delicate blue-and-white petals lay crushed under heavy shards of terracotta while decorative stones were cast indiscriminately over hallway carpet to which the teen felt a pang of sadness.

He liked that plant.

It was a lovely little hyacinth that Mrs. Yamada –one of the more tenured nurses at his father’s hospital- had gifted to him for his fourteenth birthday along with a small sealed container of mackerel miso soup and some homemade lavender cookies just because he ‘reminded her a bit of her grandfather’ or something like that. The fiery old bird could cook like a master chef, took absolutely no shit from anyone, and the very day she hit seventy she proceeded to pack her bags and headed to Spain for a well-deserved retirement. And now the only thing left he had to remember her by was broken.

Great.

“Sup dude!” Evidently oblivious to his obvious dismay the brunet gave a small wave from where he hung limply in the other’s grasp. “So, yeah, I thought maybe you couldn’t hear me so if knocked harder then you would but then she shoved me!”

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me you-”

He stared blankly as the two once more began to bicker which rapidly devolved into Tatsuki attempting to commit murder via strangulation when the other male inevitably stuck his foot into his mouth.

The whole song and dance was somewhat nostalgic to be honest.

And so was the incoming headache, unfortunately.

(Well, seeing as the running theme of things appears to be entirely made up of the universe tossing stuff at us that genuinely make me want to rethink all my life choices up to this point–) He pinched the bridge of his nose and bit back an exasperated sigh, dark eyes trailing down to the mess now scattered across his front step. (Maybe we can close the door while they’re distracted and pretend this never happened? Just…give up and go back to bed? They probably wouldn’t even notice…) At this point that didn’t even seem like a bad idea.

(C’mon man, I mean something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. Holy shit, look at them go. I haven’t seen the two of them this pissed at each other since that time the class tried to figure out who the greatest stunt actor of all time was. Remember, when Keigo tried to use his chair as a shield –dunno why he thought that do him any good. She just wound up just snapping the damn thing in half- Chad had to scruff her like one of those mother cats in order to keep her from ripping his throat.)

(No??? When was this?)

(Last January, I think? It was the first Monday after we got off break. Miss Ochi was out so we had a sub and they got ticked off at the mess and made everyone stay late to it clean up after chewing us out for letting it get that far.)

(Ah. Actually, I think was out sick that day. Inoue had stopped by the night before and dropped off one of her…more elaborate concoctions…and insisted that I tried it. And, well…)

(Food poisoning?)

(Yeah.)

As the echoes of fond halcyon days bled away to bittersweet reminisce a wash of loneliness hit him –hit them- so suddenly that he had to clutch at the door frame to keep himself steady. As quickly as it stuck, the sensation drew back and in its wake left such gaping maw that he fought for a second to just simply breathe.

(Seeing them like this, untouched by the horrors brought about from beings centuries their senior who were equipped with powers beyond mortal comprehension and still able to joke and goof around. It was sobering. Right here and now they were just kids acting their age weren’t they? They were all so young.)

(Fucking hell, were we ever like that? Just…able to just fuck around and not really have to worry about the finding out?)

(…I suppose so.)

(Yes, perhaps once upon a time, long long ago before everything that made them who they were occurred. Really, it was just another reminder of what was at stake.

And wasn’t that a heavy thought?

That if they truly succeeded in this monumental wager then perhaps the instance of their once dear compatriots that now stood before them would forever be the norm, carrying about their day to day lives undisturbed by the supernatural entities that plagued this world as a whole, forever ignorant of the travesty that befell their prior incarnations.

And if the only hope to see their family spared of such a tragic stage was at the cost of bloodstained hands forever cursed to carry the enormity of a lost world upon itself along with the direct knowledge of what could have been that had they themselves not manipulated and manhandled into unrecognizability then that was the price that they would pay a thousand times over all so the others would never be damned to suffer the ill-fated devastation that had been wrought by their own accursed hands.)

“…Ishida?” He jolted, drawing in a startled breath. Ah shit, he had completely forgotten the third member of their little troupe who was now currently standing right behind him in his flat.

(When had the other seen fit to invite himself in? Actually, no, scratch that, how had he done so without either of them noticing???)

(Whoa I think I might’ve zoned out for a bit there, did he say something just now?)

(How should I know? You think I could pay any attention while those two are going on like a bunch of wet cats caught outside during a monsoon in the background?)

(Fuck, when did he even start talking anyway? Wait, is he giving us the look? Ah man, he is. We’ve been quiet for too long I think he’s keyed into that something’s up. Say something!)

Snapping back to reality he noticed how Mizuiro had leveled him an expectant stare, presumably awaiting his response. Under such scrutiny pale cheeks dusted somewhat as the teen cast back for a response. However as he floundered about for something –anything- to say his mind simply drew a blank and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a rather dumbfounded: “How did you even know where I live?”

Judging by the way the other’s expression seemed to briefly crack before remolding itself into that plain smoothed-out placidity that the other was known the town over for that his response evidentially had been the wrong thing to say.

Shit had he already cocked everything up or perhaps had the other (hopefully) misconstrued the situation? With Kojima, it was always a guessing game of which was which as the inscrutable bastard had a nasty habit of playing things close to his chest until it could benefit him in some way. This penchant for the subtle theatrics was a talent that served him well when it came time to persuade some of the more ruthless students around campus into…keeping the peace… with their newly formed school disciplinary committee (which Ichigo himself had been guilted into becoming a member of with the stipulation of it being on a per commission basis.)

(There was a reason that he had never really put up too much of a fuss about where the other’s money came from. Not only had it been a solid source of income, but he personally didn’t want to be the one to find out whether that rumour going around that the teen had some sort of connection to the business had any merit. Not because he would view the other any differently for his relations or anything stupid like that –oh no- it was because he was more than already certain that they were entirely founded and that the less he knew about his friend’s illicit affairs the better he would able to sleep at night.)

In other words the dark haired teen had always been really fucking observant so if anyone were to notice something was up then it’d probably be him.

(‘Or maybe-’ The little conspiracy theorist in the back of his mind whispered, ‘–just maybe there had already been a shift in the timeline and all of this is just reaping the aftereffects? After all, as far as you can recall none of your extended friend circle had ever received the honour of knowing your personal address, right?’ Oh great. Now he was definitely going to be stuck in a spiral because once the thought had cropped up he couldn’t not think about it. ‘Because while I might not have done such a thing what if the instance of myself that we seem to have unfortunately superimposed over in fact had and through this gaff I have somehow already ousted us as an imposter? What other blocks in this already shaky tower would crumble next and how long before it would all come crashing down upon their collective head?’)

What indeed…

Urgh, he could already feel the headache worsening.

(Well…I mean, this sort of thing’s always kind of a last resort but…How quickly do you think you could gather up everything we need to pull a runner because I’d say we could be out that window and halfway out to Yokohama before anyone would be able to catch up with us? Just as a suggestion.)

Kojima, whether oblivious to his internal distress or just wisely choosing not to comment on it, it seemed had also came to the conclusion that egging on the spectacle upon his doorstep would be fruitless and had evidently opted to join him in ignoring their fellow classmates in favor of continuing the somewhat one-sided conversation.

“Well, you know how I’m a class officer too, right?” A short nod. “And you know just as well as I do what the Head Office is like.” Unfortunately, he did. “So it seems like somebody went and narc'd to the board –personally I think it was Yukimura from 3-B, the snitch- about all the ‘rough’ and ‘unruly’ students that have been hanging around town.” The subtle look of disapproval from the shorter teen was enough for the both of them to silently send their condolences to the sorry bastard along with anyone else in the blast radius. The morons wouldn’t even know what hit them. With a small shake of the head, Kojima continued on. “Naturally the high-strung boneheads got it into their skulls that the sure-fire course of action was to implement a new school-wide campaign focused on ‘Curbing Delinquency in Our Honoured Youth’ and first order of business was to start cracking down on truancy.”

(So in other words, the stodgy old coots got their panties in a twist and now the first people to step out of line are of course the ones to placed on the chopping block. Got it.)

“All for the sake of maintaining their ‘pristine image’ I presume.” Was his response to both.

The sheer dryness of the statement managed worm a snort out of his classmate. “Rather blunt way of putting it, but yeah. If you ask me I think the teachers were just tired of having to drag people to the nurse after they got nailed by the gate’s auto-lock when they tried slip past it to ditch class.” Mizuiro said, eyeballing the small mountain of covers that had been cast to the floor with a thinly-veiled curiosity.

(Yeah, besides everyone and their mother knows the front gate’s no good. The school’s too cheap to oil the track so not only is it a pain and a half to try and shimmy through when the damn thing randomly closes in on you but it’s loud as all hell too. Now the service door behind the gym on the other hand, a single solid kick to those rusty latches and you’ve got yourself a quick getaway…)

“Yeah, they were really sold on the whole ‘zero-tolerance’ thing. Heck, there were even some talk about making an example out of the first batch of students that they caught slacking on their attendance.”

Shit.

“…Is that so?”

The shorter teen leveled him a wry side-eye, “Although when a certain member of the student council pointed out that if the head office were to make such a hasty judgement without even taking a second to ascertain the circumstances behind such unexcused absences then by chance wouldn’t that mean our dear class president could be grouped together with other much more notorious offenders?”

“A-Ah. Well, yes I suppose that’s...”

“And that’s not good for anyone now is it? After all, there must be a perfectly rational reason for someone with previously perfect attendance to have all but disappeared off the face of the planet without so much as a warning thus leaving his classmates and fellow student council members in the lurch as to have to deal with everything in his absence now wouldn’t there be?”

He wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the light but for a second there Kojima’s placid smile seemed to twist into something darker –more menacing- and were it not for the incorporeal hand that came to rest upon his shoulder –a silent reminder to just stop, take a moment, and b r e a t h e- he would have succumbed to the hair-trigger urge to form his bow and level it at the other’s brow.

And really, when had he even taken the first step back? Was the mere possibility of something more lurking behind his schoolmate’s shadow enough to have him jump the gun with such a fervor that he’d end the other’s life without a second thought? What utter foolishness. He was better than that.

(But was he really though? After all, wasn’t there an old saying somewhere that ‘the worst wounds we bear are always brought about by those closest to us?’ And besides, it wouldn’t have been the first time that he had done such a thing in cold blood, nor would it be the last.)

Letting himself unspool from that overly tense spring he ruthlessly squashed the impulse for further self-recrimination. Even so, that could’ve spelt disaster. Especially considering the fact that –to his current faulty knowledge base- the other’s spiritual awareness would have been more or less dormant right now so he pretty much would’ve just looked like a dork pulling a weird pose or something and not the very real threat he actually was.

(But, like, seriously. How the fuck did Mizuiro manage to pull off such an intimidating presence like that without even batting an eyelash? Why can’t we do that? So unfair...)

Now equipped with a with a shellac-thin composure that would most likely crack like the candied coating it was the very moment that any pressure was set upon it the teen’s mouth started to move, “A-Ah well, there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for that. Which is-”

Mizuiro raised a brow.

(Ichigo help me out here.)

(…Yeah. I got nothing. Sorry. Good luck! You’ll need it.)

(What?! You jerk-)

…Fuck. Time to wing it.

“-that I’m not quite sure where you’re going with this?”

…Nailed it.

“…Really?”

“Yes?”

“Really.” It wasn’t a question.

Ignoring the dual-part judgemental incredulity and utter exasperation radiating from his personal tagalong was a notable effort but he valiantly kept at a straight face and doubled down on his decision.

“Yes.”

“…”

“…”

(...)

“…Alright then.”

And that was the only warning he received before Mizuiro lurched forward causing the taller boy to recoil, dark blue eyes involuntarily screwed shut as he braced for the blow…

…only to blink as he felt something soft and laminated thwap against his chest. Bewildered, he risked a glance down at the manicured hand before him and followed it down to the violet folder currently pressed against his bosom. With all the grace of a rusty robot, he mechanically took the proffered item and (in the process entirely missing the strange glint in the other’s eyes) took a peek inside.

…It was just some office forms and a couple of annotated lecture notes clipped to the corresponding worksheets. Nothing remarkable or special about them whatsoever.

Confusion apparent, Uryū’s gaze flicked up to other as he tried to gauge the teen’s intent. Finding nothing out of the ordinary he twisted his focus inward to the shadow on his soul to which the other boy merely gave a small shrug, equally as clueless.

“…It’s the coursework for the rest of the week. Miss Ochi was just gonna chuck it in the bin with the rest of the extras so she could go skive off and ogle Mr. Toudou over a cup of bad teacher’s lounge coffee; had it bagged and everything. Luckily, I managed to snag it from the clean-up crew before the whole thing got hauled out to the trash.” He gave a small nod, gaze distant. “Yeah, they were weirdly nice about the whole thing too; something about people’s notebooks disappearing just before midterms or something? I’m not entirely sure, anyways…It was no big deal, really.”

Here the other’s faint smirk faded into something a touch more sour. The faint but unmistakeable sense of irritation perking the two-in one teen’s curiosity. “At least, until Hanya decided to show his face.”

Ah, that explained it. If there was any individual who could instantly put the shorter teen in a bad mood then that person most certainly had to be their shifty Vice-Principal.

There was no shortage of strange rumours about the man and how he out of nowhere went and ditched what was supposedly a pretty cushy spot at some hoity-toity private academy in Sumaru only to do an about face the following day and transfer to their plain old public school the next town over. And it wasn’t like you could even ask the tightwad about it either because the very moment you dared to try the guy’d go off on you and start spouting something about: ‘Don’t you know how it was rude it was to gossip?!’ and ‘Teens like you shouldn’t be spreading crass rumours!’ Then, if he was in a particularly bad mood you’d land yourself in detention.

Naturally, this did not work whatsoever and only served to further alienate him from the student body where he was regarded by most as either a tedious annoyance at best or a downright pompous narcissistic creep at the very worst. But for some inexplicable reason it seemed that there was no one in the school that Hanya had it out for more than Kojima himself and from what they could see the feeling was likely mutual.

(Or, at least, that’s what his admittedly spotty memory of the whole situation told him. Were these little snippets of information their alternate self’s memories superimposed upon their own and trying to helpfully fill in the blanks? Did they have someone on staff with that name back in their old world too? He didn’t know and he honestly couldn’t remember-)

“We were already out by the incinerator and everything but when he caught the others standing around and talking to me instead of cleaning he started going off on us, tossing all sorts of wild allegations left and right. Such a distasteful show, and presented by a faculty member no less! Any sane person wouldn’t be able to let something like that slide, right? You’d have to do something-” Mizuiro fumed.

(‘So he pretty much went off on him…’)

“—because, like, aren’t class officers are supposed to advocate against such egregious displays when presented by both student and staff alike? No, I’m serious. Like, that’s literally the job description in the school’s charter, I checked. And, well, it’s not like anyone else was going to step in because you know what those office flunkies are like the second any of the higher ups get so much as mentioned.” And underneath his breath he muttered, “The cowards-”

(He absolutely went off on him.)

Like a line cast out to sea, he seemed to be caught in the waves for a moment before becoming aware of himself and reeling back a touch, “-ah, um sorry…” The teen rubbed at the back of his head, looking a little sheepish before straightening. “But yeah, one thing lead to another and I got sent to the office.”

“Wait, just to clarify, you’re the only one who got in trouble?” He asked incredulously, “That’s…”

(Dude, that’s fucked up.)

“I mean, yeah? It got the others out of the line of fire so I can’t really complain?” A shoulder briefly rose in a sort of half-shrug; a truly hapless gesture of ‘yeah, sure, it sucked but might as well make the most of it.’ “Besides, it’s not like it was all bad. Miss Amano was on admin duty today.”

(Amano? Oh that’s a relief.)

The rolling sense of relaxing shadow muddled with something positive spurred a bolt of confused-curiosity from the dark-haired teen until the dark presence ‘twisted’ to face him.

(She was a teaching assistant in charge of handling the younger years and spent a lot of time helping out Mr. Toudou. All of the grunt work the other teachers didn’t want to do was usually her problem which is probably why you didn’t run into each other all that often.)

Ah, that made sense. But even so…

(You seem rather fond of her?)

(Well yeah? Amano was actually one of the few decent people on the staff roster. She was always genuinely cheerful and never really let their stupid hazing get to her. Plus she said she actually liked my hair, apparently it reminded her of her roommate’s or something? S’probably why the old farts rigged it so she’d have to transfer out at the end of second year. And I stand by what I said the first time, everyone and their mother saw that there was no way in hell that those test scores could’ve been botched! I-)

(Ichigo.)

The shadowed mass went from a frothing mess to as still as the grave so fast that it was enough to twist his already tumultuous insides. Biting back the bile in his throat –because he was not going to throw up on his favourite hand-crocheted blanket while his troublesome classmate looked on, he refused- the teen’s slender fingers eased out of their death grip on the manila folder. The heavy wriggling of other’s not-form slowly returned, albeit at a more sedate pace.

(…Sorry.)

“So,” He began a little roughly, “she let you off the hook?”

“…Mhm.” A nod, “Once I told her about what happened outside she was all too happy to let us off the hook just so long as we went and did a little errand for her for her first. Yeah, something about ‘doing time through a bit of community service’ and ‘to be sure to put the fear of god into them’ or something like that just so long as we kept it on the down-low of just who authorized the whole thing.” A mischievous light shone in the shorter boy’s eyes. “Playing a bit of messenger bird in exchange or being able to fly the coop? An easy deal if you ask me.”

The gears were turning, “Wait…so that whole bit earlier?”

“…I might’ve taken some creative liberties.” He smirked, “But what can I say? I’m nothing if not thorough with my work.”

…So the entire time he felt as though his heart was about to burst out of his chest and that he were wobbling on the edge, a hair’s length from his (third? Fourth?? First??? Final) death and the other was simply fucking with him? He let that thought sit for a moment. Let it percolate. Let it ruminate. Contemplated his place in the universe and the vague constellation of stars that somehow aligned to bring him to this very place, this very moment.

And then proceeded to nope out.

(Distantly he felt that gentle tenebrous warmth slide into place as his body took in a rather deep breath and released. His Their hands, still clutching that accursed folder, came together as if to pray for strength before slowly lowering themselves and twisting ninety-degrees to face the accused. Their expression only could be described as something belonging to the family of ‘are you fucking kidding me right now?’)

“…Mizuiro.”

And proceeded to whack him on the head with the folder.

“You’re such a dick.”

“You know I am.” Mizuiro admitted with a shrug and an honest-to-god laugh. Preempting another strike, he hurriedly took a step back out of the folder’s range. The other teen seemed to grouse a bit before letting out a reluctant sigh and permitting the thing come to rest at his side, having conceded defeat. For now, anyway. Somewhat thrown by the seemingly easy victory, the shorter boy raised a brow.

“You act like you’re surprised but who else would go along with my improv so spectacularly and match it with a one-to-one bit their own?” He shook his head with a scoff, “The idiot duo back there? Please.”

“Mhm. But I can still call you out on it though, can’t I?”

It was a fair point but…

(‘I honestly thought that was Keigo’s job though?’)

He felt a wash of confusion at what was presumably yet another difference. Those hastily preconstructed towers were being pulled down faster either of them could cope and if was to be some stupid missed in-joke that would finally do them in then he was going to scream.

However, instead of giving note to the thought, the one in control of the body turned his their face to the side with a faint scowl. Looking for all the world as though he had seemingly dismissed the other in favour of more important things.

(When the truth of the matter was that he much preferred to let their gaze travel around the rather sparse apartment in contrast to the facing the awkwardness of prolonged eye-contact and the other teen’s way too keen expression. Uryū’s dissociation was already putting him on edge enough as it was and he didn’t need to accidentally check out in front of these guys as well.)

Glossing over the small touches of personality –(a little janky plush thing wedged into the cranny of an otherwise neat bookshelf over here, some hastily stashed books with geometric stitching patterns on the cover there, and all the other various knickknacks scattered about that signified that someone did in fact live there)— their attention shifted to land on the covers scattered about the floor.

Sock-clad feet shuffled over to the pile as blue eyes briefly studied the comfortable mix-match of fabrics. Slowly, the body knelt down, Ichigo fighting back a strained grimace as he went and gathered the sizable mass into his their arms. Hands paused ever so slightly on the knitted afghan as a look of contemplation crossed his their face.

“Then what about the other two?”

Ichigo shifted the worn knit to wrap around their shoulders, bearing it not unlike one of the many mantles that Uryū had been so fond of wearing when they were younger. The warm fabric acting as though it were a shield between them and this twisted mirror-like version of their friend. The rest of the bedding was summarily balled up and tossed onto the couch with a huff.

(Neither of them noticed the flicker of concern on Mizuiro’s face as they seemed to sway on their feet for a second but successfully managed to catch themselves on the edge of coffee table. Nor did they notice, so caught up in the internal dialogue were they, that as they righted themselves and the tension bled out of their form it seemed to remain etched in his.)

‘Yeah, so I guess that’s how we came to came to find you on my doorstep. But that doesn’t really explain what they were doing here as well.’ The feeling of crossness drew him back to the surface, ‘Or why they felt the need to break my stuff.’ He thought with a mild huff as he took back control.

As if summoned by the thought (or perhaps finally distracted from the epic battle of dumbassery at the door) it seemed that Keigo finally managed to escape his dueling partner’s grasp. Quickly dancing away from her reaching hands, he finally stepped into the apartment proper.

Conceding defeat (for now) Tatsuki followed suit. “What about us?”

(Oh so they’re all just gonna come in now? Okay. Sure. At least have the decency to shut the damn door while you’re at it…)

Taking it upon himself to do just that, he turned back to face them. A hand tightened around the makeshift shawl, securing it in his tight grasp.

“What I mean is, Mizuiro-” He tipped his head toward said boy, resolutely ignoring how his head seemed to throb at the action. “-I can understand, but why are you here?” The teen groused.

Keigo just stared at him as if he had suddenly burst out in full traditional Quincy garb and then proceeded to give them an all expense included monologue about the whole truth of their fucked up situation and spared none of the nitty-gritty god-murdering world-ending details.

“Ishida. Dude.” He spoke slowly, as if they were the dumb ones here and he had to spell it out for them. “You’ve been gone for like ages and no one’s heard a single word about it. There’s already, like, five different rumours about your death going around. I even heard the handicraft’s club was planning on holding a séance.”

He very deliberately did not react. “I-It hasn’t even been a week.”

“Well yeah, but when someone like ‘Mr. Perfect Attendance Class President Ishida’ decides to dip for that long? People tend to take notice and start theorizing.” He put one hand under his chin and did a little theatrical wave with the other, “They say stuff like: ‘Oh gee it must be something big that nailed him like...a huge mystery illness that would drop even the most stalwart of men’ or ‘Maybe he was indoctrinated into this demonic alien cult and just been taken aboard their secret mothership parked just outside the atmosphere as they planned their next move.’” There was a gleam to his eye as he began to get more into it and his gestures got more energetic.

“O-Or maybe he was kidnapped by a mysterious gang of strange ladies that would only state their demands if in the presence of a strapping young lad under the age of twenty but in the process of negotiations the daughter of a big business conglomerate somehow managed to fall for him at first sight and as a result wanted to take him as consort but on their way to elope somehow they managed become the center of a political murder mystery thus necessitating the help of local amateur gumshoe detective Asano Keigo and his assistants to crack the case!” Already lost in the fantasy he let out a semi-maniacal cackle.

“...Right.”

(He’s completely lost the plot.)

(Oh totally.)

(...Should we, y’know?)

(Nah, Tatsuki’s got this. Watch.)

The aforementioned girl rolled her eyes, stalking over to the still cackling teen and unceremoniously bonked Keigo on the head. A whine escaped his lips and he stopped instantly. With a betrayed look he rubbed at the spot, grumbling all the while.

“Ignore him. He’s being a moron again.” She went on, folding an arm across her chest as she shot Uryū a mildly exasperated yet commiserating smile. “What he meant to say was that we were worried about your dumbass. Or well, at least he was-” Tatsuki jerked a thumb over to Mizuiro, “-but me? Truth is I felt kind of bad just leaving Kojima to the wolves like that.” She gave a small shrug. “So I tracked him down just before he left and made him spill the beans about this whole home delivery deal. Figured why not tag along since I’m kind of familiar with the area.”

The smile dimmed somewhat, “But when he mentioned you lived sorta out of the way, I didn’t think he meant this far out. I mean, this place is so far out in the middle of nowhere that I’m surprised you’re still even in our school district. Not only that but it’s kind of a pain to even get up to the front door! Anyone ever tell you that?”

Yes. And it was that way for a reason. A less populated area meant less prying eyes to his comings and goings at all hours of the night. Less prying eyes meant fewer people trying to dig into your personal business. And of course fewer people meant less collateral damage if an errant hollow was ever suicidal enough to follow him home. Not that these guys knew any of that so all he said was, “Once or twice, yes.”

His gaze traveled to Keigo, who was now prodding at the small plush on his bookshelf curiously. “And him?”

“Huh? Oh right, him.” Her friendly look flattened into one of annoyance. “Yeah, dumbass over there on the other hand just really wanted to ditch cleaning duty early.” And as if sensing the other was about to do something stupid again she whirled around to level a pointed look at the brown-haired teen “Isn’t that right, Keigo.”

“As if. Also, rude.” Said teen muttered. But thankfully he took the hint and put the fragile plush back on the shelf, seeming somewhat put out as he did so.

(Impressive.)

(Yeah, back when we were little whenever me and the other kids from the dojo were gonna do something stupid she’d somehow just know. Trying to deny it wouldn’t work either because she’d just call us out on it and then go tattle to one of the instructors. She liked to call it her ‘Big Sister ESP’ which didn’t make a damn bit of sense because not only is she an only child but she was the youngest kid in our group by, like, two days.)

(Sounds like you were on the receiving end of it loads of times.)

(Oi.)

“And that’s pretty much the whole story.” Exasperated, she rolled her eyes and turned to face him fully but as she finally seemed to take in his haggard appearance the look of irritation made way for a concerned scowl. “But, dude, for real are you okay? You don’t look too hot.”

Keigo rubbed his hands together as he cast a final quick glance about the room before turning to face Uryū as well. The brunet seemed, for lack of a better word, uncomfortable. “Yeah, she’s right. You look like shit.” And suddenly, as if something just occurred to him, a look of worry-tinged suspicion crossed his face. He backed up slightly, brown eyes squinting at the other teen. “Wait you aren’t contagious are you? Because, like...whatever you got looks nasty. I don’t want to be no patient zero’s plus one if you catch my drift.”

“Keigo!”

“What? Come on, we were both thinking it!”

“So? You don’t just-” An arm pulled away from her chest to grasp the air fruitlessly as she let out a noise of frustration. “Have some tact man!”

Jolting slightly at the other’s careful touch, it took him a second longer than it probably should have to process Kojima’s presence beside of him. Blue eyes flickered between the two teens yowling at each other like a bunch of wet strays then over to the calmer boy watching the action play out not unlike a spectator at a tennis match. Urgh, just the mere thought of yet another argument had his head hurt preemptively from the noise. Yeah, better to cut them off before it even started.

“Guys, I’m fine. Really.” Because while he admittedly did felt like shit, surely he didn’t look as bad as they were making it out to be, right?

(...)

(...Right?)

“Y-Yeah.” He turned back to the other two as neither of them seemed to pay them any mind whatsoever. “Just fine...”

And was it just him or was this all getting to be a bit too much? Even the presence of Mizuiro’s chilled hand on his shoulder was starting to prick at something deep and indescribable within his patchwork soul. Quietly the folder still clutched within his grasp began to crinkle.

(Uryū! Mind the papers!)

‘What? Oh!’ Realizing what he had been about to do he went to quickly dispose of the item before the other teen’s thoughtful gift got ruined any further.

But it was then, as he went to bend over the coffee table to set the folder down that the sudden shift in position sent a sharp spire of pain coursing throughout their very being. A feeling not that different from someone having up and went to town with an ice pick on his skull had him seeing stars and with a quickly darkening sky to match.

A quiet intake of breath. That’s pretty much all the warning they got before the floor steadily drew itself up to meet them (or perhaps he was going down to meet it?)

And he was down.

A pause.

Then–

“What the fu-“

“Oh shit-!”

“Uryū!”

–three teens scrambled reach his side. All talking over each other in a rush of chaos and panicked noise.

“Oh my god is he dead?!”

“Holy shit-“

“I knew something was up! Like I didn’t want to be the one who said it first and I’m sure Kojima’ll agree with me here but, he looked sick. Like sick sick. One foot in the grave sick. And oh my god are we watching a dude die right now oh my god-”

“Clear some room! You two help me get him onto the couch-“

His consciousness was already starting to fade in and out as they struggled to get him to the couch but even as he sunk further into the deep night he could still hear snippets of their terrified fervor.

“Ow!”

Keigo let out a small yelp and jerked back from the fallen teen only to be directly on the receiving end of a daggered stare courtesy of the lone girl of their troupe. “Stop screwing around Asano!”

“He shocked me!” The brunet cried, pointed an incredulous finger at the downed boy.

Dark brows furrowed and lips parted slightly as the girl leveled him an absolutely dumbfounded expression before she got pissed, “Are you fucking serious right now?! Ignore the damn static cling and help us get him up here!”

“R-Right.”

As they got him into a suitable position Keigo pulled back once again and watched the two fuss about their fallen friend. His mouth continued to move in a stream of nervous word vomit, “Oh man, what do we do?! Television makes this stuff seem so much less complicated. I mean, like, the dude just...dropped out of nowhere! One second he’s fine and then...blam! He’s down on the ground and out for the count. Does he really have some secret terminal medical thingy going on? Is that why?? Do we, y’know, take him to the hospital??? Argh dang it, I knew I shouldn’t’ve skipped health class...” He grasped at his hair, staring off into the middle distance.

(And it was that last little bit of noise that sent an instinctual spike of blind panic through them. If it were to come to light that the Director’s son had just been admitted to A&E with some form of unexplainable illness the news would most certainly reach his father’s desk within the hour. And Ryūken, for all that he spurned the supernatural world and those who participated within its boundaries in favour of the more mundane, the man was neither blind nor stupid. He was, by the very blood flowing through his veins, still a Quincy. Their razor-thin plausible deniability would be pierced through in a heartbeat by the man’s prodding and soon to follow their skull; courtesy of a charged Heilig Pfeil. And the second that happened the lives and afterlives of everyone around them would instantly be forfeit. Come be what may they could not let themselves be taken to the hospital.)

It was this desperate thought that allowed him to use that as a ballast to rise through the muddled dark just enough to poke out through the murky surface. His jerking gasp caused all three teens to startle.

They were at his side in an instant, “Easy there Uryū.” Mizuiro gently tilted his head to right and tried not wince at the sheer heat radiating off of the other boy. “Don’t push yourself.” And to the others in a low voice he muttered, “He’s burning up.”

“How bad?”

“Bad.” As in: he legitimately did not know how the other had even been standing, let alone able to hold a semi-coherent conversation with them.

It was Keigo who noticed that he was trying to make his opinion known on the matter, “Guys, shush!” And to Uryū: “Hey there bud, didn’t quite catch that. Mind repeating it?”

“No...”

“...No?”

“N-No...No hos…pitals.” Why was it so hard to get the words out? He reached out blindly for the nearest thing that could sense on his peripherals and was met with a balm of cool lakewater stopped just shy of freezing against the raging surge of an ocean black as pitch; Mizuiro’s hand. Already he could feel the stormy dark dragging him back under but just as he slipped back beneath its grasp a single desperate plea escaped his lips.

“Please.”

And then he was gone, lost once more to the waves.

There was a moment of silence before the trio once more burst out into panic.

“Wah he passed out again?!”

“What do you mean ‘no hospitals’? In the state you’re in?! Don’t be a dumbass!”

“W-What do we do-”

“Why the fuck wouldn’t you want a doctor when you’re this sick?!?”

“D-Do we just...go ahead and call someone or...?”

They were shocked into silence as the third member of their party suddenly rose from his place at Uryū’s side and made his way over to the kitchenette where he proceeded to rummage through the cabinets. The two of them shared a baffled look as this seemingly nonsensical course of action had them scratching their heads for all of two seconds until he reemerged from behind the partition with his newfound prize; a medium sized bowl now filled with a decent amount of semi-chilled water from the tap and a novelty kitchen towel, having once been lost to the depths of a junk drawer, now stood a notable presence draped across his shoulder. He lugged his precious cargo back over to their little cluster, taking care not to spill a drop of it as he sat the bowl down, and reclaimed his spot at the edge coffee table.

“Kojima?”

In lieu of a response, he opted to position the other’s limbs into a more comfortable arrangement. Once satisfied with that Mizuiro’s focus then shifted to the glasses perched his friend’s face. With deft hands, he slid his fingers underneath the thin wire-frames and carefully tugged them off, taking care as to not smudge the lenses when he folded the earpieces up and set them to the side. Finished with that, he went to work dousing the fabric in the cool liquid. As he shuffled about the space, it was hard not to notice how the shorter teen carried himself with this sort of inscrutable countenance; the face a careful blank all save for a subtle furrowing of his brow.

It was Keigo who broke the silence next, “You know what’s going on, don’t you.”

The boy paused in his ministrations and there was a long silence before he finally spoke.

“...Uryū’s father is currently employed at Karakura General.”

“...So, he’s a doctor?”

“Yes. Or, well, not exactly...” The teen took another moment to parse his words, hands absently reaching back into the bowl to wring out the soaked cloth between them as did. He carefully laid the damp towel across the other’s forehead, “He’s actually the Director there.”

“...Wow, that’s certainly something.” And then a thought occurred to her, “Hold on a sec. If that’s the case then it makes even less sense for him to be like this.” She gestured pointedly at the boy lying prone before them. “You think a doctor wouldn’t notice their own kid getting sick like this?”

“Well, maybe he just too busy at the moment to really do anything about it?” Keigo offered haltingly, however when faced with the twin stares he hastened to explain himself, “W-Well, I mean, he just said he was a hospital director or something which means the guy’s pretty important right? And, hey, important people do important stuff all the time! Like...go on super long trips for business.” He made a vigorous series of hand motion, as if to illustrate his point. “And when they’re on these long trips don’t they cut off all contact so they can go ahead focus only on the big business stuff, yeah? So, maybe that’s what happened. His dad had to go out of town for this huge important medical conference or whatever and everything was going all good until then out of the blue Ishida was struck by this sudden mystery illness. And our man Ishida, being the good guy that he is, didn’t want to bother his old man when he was doing something so important so he thought he’d try toughing it out while waiting for to get back? Or something along the lines of that maybe?”

“Asano. While that’s a nice thought, I sincerely doubt that is the case here. After all,” While he seemed was patient on the surface one couldn’t help but note the faintest hint of something else lurking in his tone as he stared down at the body before him. “Uryū doesn’t live with his father.”

“H-Huh?”

Dark brown eyes narrowed, “What are you trying to get at Kojima?”

“I mean,” He started slowly, a rare look of consternation flashed across his face as he met the girl’s energy with a soft-yet-acerbic tone of his own. “Look around you; at the single set of shoes at the door, or the lone bedroom down the hall. He doesn’t even have enough food in the fridge for one person, let alone two.” He leveled a pointed gesture back at the object in question, his other hand coming to make a tight fist against his pantleg. “No, there hasn’t been anyone else here but him for a long time.”

“B-But that’s...” But before he had a chance to speak Mizuiro cut him off, signalling the other to give him a second. At his side, he clenched and unclenched his fist, repeating the gesture until the circulation flowed back into the digits. Once the feeling had returned to them, he then smoothed out the creases in his uniform pants with a silent note to further iron them out when he got back home later.

“Sorry, I got a little heated there.” He shook his head as he twisted to face him. While he did appear to be a bit calmer for the action there was still the faintest lines of a scowl that tugged at the corners of his mouth. As a whole, he seemed troubled. “But still, my point stands. While it could be whatever’s making him sick right now egging it on, I genuinely don’t think it would be in his good interest for us to just dump him at a hospital right now, at least not one run by his father at any rate.”

“...S-So what do we do?” Mizuiro did have a point after all, they couldn’t just leave him there to suffer like that. (Well, actually, they could but that would be kind of a shitty thing to do, wouldn’t it? What if he died or something because they left him alone? He definitely did not sign up to become a murderer of all things, no siree. Because when the cops eventually came around to investigate things then them just being there right now would lead to some uncomfortable questions which it would then go straight to them getting implicated for something or another because that’s just how authority figures were. He was too young to go to prison! Hell, he still cried at the end of Phoenix Ranger Featherman Classic when everyone finally put aside their differences to bring about world peace through the power of friendship! And that wasn’t even getting into whatever weird beef Kojima had with Ishida’s Old Man. Argh, he just wanted to get out of doing cleaning duty for the day, not be faced with drama and life or death decisions!) The usually bouncy teen’s eyes flitted between his friends with a ever-growing desperation, having felt as though he was completely out of his depth here. “We have to do something, guys.”

Tatsuki, as per usual, ignored the fretting teen in favour of leveling her attention on the last conscious resident of the room. She seemed stare at him for a long moment, long enough to make any weaker willed person squirm. However, Mizuiro Kojima was no such individual. He met her gaze, dark eyes clear yet unyielding. It was Arisawa who broke first, her brown eyes glancing away and then over to the fallen teen. Dark brows furrowed until she finally turned away from this as well, her lips pulled back into a heavy grimace. “...Alright. Fine.”

“‘Fine’?” Mizuiro raised a brow.

“You win. We won’t take him to a fucking hospital.” She spat as she raked a hand through her short spikes. Hard set to her jaw, a rush of air escaped her as she shoved herself up to her feet. “But Asano also has point. I’m not leaving him like this.”

“She’s actually agreeing with me?” He muttered under his breath somewhat disbelievingly before being startled by the sudden movement. “Huh? Wait, where are you going?” Keigo called as she moved towards the kitchen partition, personal cell phone already out of pocket and in hand.

“I’m gonna go make a call. So pipe down so I can hear the dang thing–”

“Okay, no need to shout–”

“Don’t worry, Uryū. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Hello? Yes, we’re kind of in a bit of a situation...”

“So you just try to get some rest now, okay?”

“No, please, listen Mr. K-”

“We’ll take care of it, I promise–”

<{-----+}

(And then it was dark. The twinned consciousness finally faded from the forefront; soul fragments curled tightly into one another as they drifted along the stormy ocean of liquid pitch. Their entirety ebbed and flowed with the steady rhythm of make-unmake-remake as their patchworked being slowly remolded itself into something that truly should not have been yet somehow inexplicably was and a delicate equilibrium was met. Upon finally having spent those additional energy reserves they sank deeper into the realm of dreamless sleep; yet even so this unique rest was not a wholly peaceful one. There were brief moments where awareness bubbled up, reaching out but not quite touching the surface, allowing for snippets of lucidity as their body slept on.)

{+-----}>

(“I’m so sorry for calling you out of the blue like this and at such a late hour too but we couldn’t think of who else to turn to.”

A presence slowly drifted through the endless mire.

“Well, it’s a good thing you kids called me when you did–”

Twisting and turning.

Rising and falling.

Life and Death .

Over and over and over again the display repeated so on and so forth until eventually with nowhere else to go it turned in on itself in an endless array of spiritual fractals. Awareness came and went with the tide, the stolen snippets nothing more than static nonsense.

“█████!”

“█████?”

“█████...?!”

A messy tangle of fizzy yellow passed it to a worried forest gale and then to an absolutely frigid lakewater then back to the first one and so on the pattern repeated itself, occasionally tossing another burst of noise into the mix until the soothing aura of a smouldering flame— not quite the raging bonfire it could be if properly given time — cut through.

“Yes, you ███ can run along now. I’ve got your friend ██████ all settled. He’s in ████ █████. So let me ███ ██ ████, okay?”

So f a m i l i a r. . .

“You’ve got good ███████, you know that? Didn’t ████ want to leave ███ for a ██████.” A self-depreciating chuckle, one that felt like the crackle of embers cloaked in cigarette smoke “They’re good kids. But...” A smile dropped.

He knew this person.

“I’m ██████ this is a ███ out of their ██████████.” The rare seriousness was a jarring contrast to his usual behaviour. It was easy to forget how good of an actor he was. It ran in the family.

...Who?

“What a mess. It’s a ████ ████ thing that I ███ ██ home visits, ███ know that? I’m █████████ that ███ even managed to ████ ██ this long in the state ██████ in. I guess that █████████ stubbornness must be ████ ███ something, huh? You ██████ ██████ are something else.” A hand that should’ve been warmer ran through disheveled locks, its owner letting out quiet hiss before the limb retracted. “████ weren’t ███████, ██████ burning ██. Damn, ████████ gonna have ██ ███ ███ ████ if you don’t—”

—And then everything was cast drift once again.)

“What am I gonna do with you kid?”

It was time once more for the void’s shadowy hold to lighten and almost immediately he cast out his nebulous senses in search of that familiar rain-soaked maelstrom that both was and was not part of him. He relaxed somewhat, able to tell that the other was still caught Hypnos’s grasp. To continue on with that comparison did that mean that he, on the other hand, was more suited for the position of Thanatos in this situation? He allowed the vague amusement to flow through him as he curled around the other in a lazy embrace.

A shaky awareness slowly trickled outward, allowing for him to distinguish that curious warm presence hovering somewhere off to the side of the body. However, with that gesture a sliver of reality bled in and he could feel an involuntary shiver as the prickle of cold air hit bare skin. The sound of someone clucking their tongue and that warm flame drew closer, and he could feel the chill fade away. Replaced with the soft comfort of what could only be a blanket.

“████ ██ ████ ███.” The outside presence said something else but seeing as reality was currently as flaky as a distant oasis mirage it was practically gibberish to his ears. That –along with the garishly vibrant yet hazy body that periodically swam into view every time the world seemed to blink— it was hard to say if what he was experiencing now was nothing more than the continued offshoot of a particularly vivid fever dream or not. This assumption was not helped when the other being, who turned to face him for some reason or another, had spotted a single bleary eye squinting from across the distance and had taken that as a license to explode into a whirlwind of chattering noise and activity.

Well, dream or not, it sure as hell was annoying enough to made him want to bury his head under a pile of pillows and snap for the moron to just stay still and shut up, damn it.

“...?”

...And he must’ve said something to that effect out loud if the way the other had paused, having been caught off guard by the garbled outburst, was any indication.

Oops.

Another blink and their mouth was moving again but still not quite reaching through to him. Huh, maybe if he had a bit more of a presence of mind this fact would bother him but as it stood, he couldn’t help but instead wonder. ‘Who the fuck is this anyway?’

His spinning mind wracked itself trying to place where he knew that presence from despite the thoughts slipping through his fingers as if they were leftover grains of sand from their last trip to the Land of Endless Night. Why was it so familiar?

(Of course it was familiar. That was his–)

“Dad?”

(Did he accidentally get a concussion and stumble into the clinic hospital again? His Dad Grandfather would chide him for getting into a fight again even though it usually wasn’t his fault people were assholes and tried to pick fights liked to steal his stuff.

Wait. That didn’t seem...right? What, no, yes it did?

He’d only ever gotten into a street fight once back when he was a little kid when this group of utter twats stole the Little Huntress knit plush that his Grandfather had spent months making for him. He had been so mad that he had subconsciously used a reinforcement technique and, in the process, completely shattered the other kid’s jaw.

Sure, he had gotten the knit plush back but the damage had already been done. It was no time at all before word had gotten around to all of the other kids and their parents about how the ‘weird boy’ who ‘saw things others could not’ had gotten ‘violent’ and sent an ‘innocent’ kid to the hospital. It had taken no small amount of hush money and eventually changing schools entirely before the whole incident eventually was swept under the rug.

But truly, it was the event that directly succeeded it which still bore a stark testament to his memory even after all this time.

It had been the dead of the night and he truly had never been meant to hear any of the hissed words behind that set of closed doors; but because he had thought he’d heard a strange noise earlier, and with the childish worldview that had yet to be tainted with the existence of their cannibalistic counterparts wondered if it had just been one of the friendly local ghosts that had somehow managed to sneak onto their property in search of him and as such went down to see if the wayward spirit needed help.

He hadn’t expected to see the sliver of light filtering out into the hall from his father’s usually locked study. So, filled with all the curiosity of a child his age who couldn’t sleep he had crept up to the crack to check it out.

He had never seen both his Grandfather and Father so upset.

The way the two went at each other backlit by the light of the Hunter’s Moon was a sight to behold. Their weapons for this duel: thunderous expressions and acid laced words undercut by a form of panicked desperation and righteous anger.

He might’ve just been six at the time and not really understood what they were so furious about but judging by the fact that he could catch his name interspersed between that special brand of German that Grandfather spoke he knew enough that whatever it was they were talking about had something to do with him.

And it was terrifying.

Original purpose forgotten, he crept back upstairs and hid himself deep underneath the covers. Little arms wrapped tightly around the plush that started it all, he buried his face into the soft yarn as he tried to forget what he had just saw. Eventually, tiredness won out and he fell asleep to the thought that he never wanted to see another’s person make that sort of face because of him ever again.

Yet he did, only a few years later and continued to do so, with the devastation brought about by his own hand.

Wait. Something about that didn’t feel quite right either, but whatever it was just wasn’t clicking and he couldn’t pin his finger on just why...)

The blurry figure almost seemed disconcerted, “███ █████.”

It feels like he’s forgetting something, perhaps it was related to rising the impression of befuddlement emanating from the living personification of cigarette ash over there and the fuzzy looking frown on his Old Man’s face. He didn’t know why but he didn’t like that look. It just didn’t suit Ol’ Goat-Chin and he as so much said so.

“███ ████! ████ █████ ████, █ █████. ████ █████ ██ ██████ ███ █ ████████ ████████ ██████ ████ ██████ ██ ██ █████████ █████ █ ████ ███████?”

...Well, if there was anything that he could say transcended both space and time it was that the other could certainly be enthusiastic about his reactions. It sure as hell would have been nice if those few snippets of vigorously animated noise made some sort of sense, though. Eh, time to extrapolate and figure out the rest from there!

“I...am not sick. Don't need a doct’r Old Man, I'll be fine." He slurred, thankfully having enough clarity to form most of the words.

This eloquent and well put together response did not inspire the confidence he hoped it would if the loud disbelieving snort were indication. "██ ████? ███ ████ ██ ████ █████ ████?” The other seemed to retort but already he could feel himself slipping again. His eyes slid shut. He...felt like something big was going to happen and...he needed to warn him? But why and what about? Was it about the girls? Oh, wasn’t it around this time there had been a hollow...and something else? But it would be a big risk if they didn’t let him face the others and get strong enough to...do what?

(Who was he fighting back then? Was it a–)

“H’ll’w?”

(No, it was Ywh—)

Wait, who was in control?

Their consciousness was fading and fast but they were still aware enough to see the other man stiffen and that was...very bad. Why, he didn’t know, but he at least knew that the other definitely shouldn’t have been like that so with their last bits of cohesiveness they fought to reassure him. “D’n’t w'rry he’s dead.” Their hand went up grip at their chest, just why was it so hard to breathe? It hurt. But still they forced the words out, “P'rm'se.”

(And then they proceeded to pass out.)

Contrary to the consolatory result he had been aiming for, it seemed as though the display had provided the direct opposite effect for the other man, only giving rise to a number of questions that urgently needed answering and an ever-darkening stain of concern.

He slowly made his way over to the teen and ever so gently pried his fingers away from where they clutched at his chest. He tried not to grimace at the sight even if he did allow himself a low oath uttered under his breath. It wasn’t like the kid could hear it anyway, having once again fallen unconscious, a likely result from how his body was trying to cope with the nightmare that was happening to it.

“...Poor kid.”

The whole thing was starting to look a bit too much like that horrible mess with Masaki and that Hell-Forsaken Hollow all over again. It made his fingers itch for the package of menthols he kept tucked away in a spare pocket, if only to distract himself from the cold knot that made its home in his stomach. For all his vibrancy and self-admitted eccentric worldview, he wasn’t blind, nor had he ever been stupid.

He knew the kid had made it a habit to go out at night to try his hand at hollow hunting, perhaps using the activity as a coping mechanism so that he could come to terms with Sōken’s death, and while truthfully, he could only guess as to what had been going through Ryūken head at the time; whether it be dealing with his own feelings on the matter, or maybe some misbegotten cultural aspect of having to deal with ‘The Pride of a Quincy’ that the other would steadfastly refuse to elaborate on ‘because he was no longer involved with that state of affairs’, or even some other bullshit entirely. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn what the reasoning was. The fact of the matter was that eldest Ishida had let him go about doing all of it alone.

Damn it, back when he still was a part of the active service there was a popular saying among the members of the 10th Division. If memory served him well, it was:

‘A lone wolf is nothing more a dead dog.’

It meant that there was a reason why you didn’t let a fresh from the academy recruit runaround on their own without some form of supervision (usually in the form of a higher ranked squad member that could serve as back up should the need arise) for their first few missions. Not everyone was able to handle the stress of a battlefield where emotions regularly ran high and sorry bastards would pounce on any weakness that you so much as dared to show, after all. And he had seen more than his fair share of good men lose their lives because of things like this.

Hell, even with years of the patented ‘Shiba Subtle Situational Awareness & Athletics Training’ under his belt he wouldn’t have let his own son go galivanting after the damned things if it hadn’t been for Kisuke’s silver tongue and the Kuchiki girl’s presence acting as a sort of makeshift mentorship born out of sheer necessity.

(Feelings on the matter be damned, he knew –even if he didn’t necessarily agree— that it was the only way that his boy could even have a chance at standing against the things that were to come. The only way for him to live up to the name he had been blessed with and be able to shatter the plans of those who would wish to inflict a fate worse than death upon him for the simple crime of existing as something beyond their understanding as he and his sisters did.

But he still couldn’t help but wonder sometimes; that if things had been different would none of them have needed to have faced such things to start with? That he and the girls would have, if not a normal life, then at least one that still would have had their mother in it?

But there was no use dwelling on a world that never was and never could be when one had to keep their sight on the present, anyhow.)

He knew he was a hypocrite, but damn it if he couldn’t still get pissed off when he saw a child basically throwing himself to the wolves.

‘And look where this mess has gotten us Ryūken. Where it’s gotten our boys.’

With his power drained down to the barest dregs as it was, he still would’ve had to have been utterly blind to miss the strong haze of hollow-tainted reiatsu on the child. A grimace deepened as he busied himself with refilling the water basin and then moved on to examining the makeshift cooling towel set across the teen’s brown. He had to commend the dark-haired lad’s (Kojima, he believed, was what the brunet had called him) insistence on fussing about with the thing before he shooed them off, a thoughtful stopgap measure set about in the slim hope that it might make things a bit easier for his friend, even if it was purely palliative at this point.

Taking note of the way sweat gathered at his brow and the tachypneic breaths, followed by a quick check of the pulse that revealed an equally racing heart –likely straining to filter the toxins out of his body and soul— this accompanied with what he’d witnessed during the young man’s brief periods of rousing it was right of them to be concerned.

His own professional (and totally not biased at all) verdict on the matter was—

Well...

Let’s just say it really was a good thing that the boy was out of it as to be spared the worst of things.

Up close like this, it was easy to see Ryūken’s features in the boy even without the mop of white hair on his head (that Ryūken insisted was his natural colour and most certainly not bleached, but Isshin had seen all the hair care products the man had in his bathroom, there was no way) but with this proximity it was also not that hard for him to imagine by some unlucky roll of the dice Ichigo in this position and with the uncertainty of the future such a thing wasn’t entirely out of the cards.

That the thought of something like the bastard from that time or possibly (nay, likely) worse going after these literal children (his own flesh and blood turned conscripted soldiers forced to play to the tune of people centuries older than them) made that familiar churn in his gut and once more his fingers itched desperately for a cigarette to take the edge off.

He instead toyed with the frayed lining of his coat sleeve, the patch of cloth already long since rubbed thin.

‘Even in his hour of need the kid still had his dad on his mind.’ He mused, absently brushing back a sweat-drenched lock of hair from the boy’s brow. Like this, you wouldn’t even be able guess the boy had been deliriously seeking out the comfort of a parental figure not moments before. ‘He still thought of you, Ryūken.’ Then his thoughts took a darker tint, ‘But would you have even cared?’

At least Ichigo had some others to stand with him if things went south, those who had at least some idea of the rather unique problems he had to deal with. But what this child have? An emotionally constipated father and a smaller, yet no less significant, spiritually charged target painted on his back? ‘Pride of the Quincy’ indeed.

And then he winced, immediately chastising himself for the line of thought. That was being a bit unfair, wasn’t it? He wondered what his dear Masaki would have to say if she heard any of this. A wry smirk, ‘It’d probably end up with a well-deserved smack to the head for the both of us for being morons; followed by an hour long chewing out session that would cow even the most stalwart of men.’

He shook his head to dismiss the thought, his gaze traveling up and out to the decently-sized balcony just beyond his reach. The trails of light streaming through sliding glass painted the small room in the colours of the setting sun. ‘Geez,’ He sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. ‘I’m not usually this gloomy. Must be because it’s almost that time of year again.’ And with that what little bit of levity he had managed to scrounge up had faded, allowing his thoughts to spiral back to the same bleak spot that was now their home.

That spot also known as his current patient: Uryū Ishida.

Right, what to do...

...Fuck he missed his wife; she’d know how to deal with this better than he ever could. If this was just some sort of normal illness or a trauma case then he would have been able to handle it no problem. Hell, even if the worst came to pass and he somehow managed to make the transition to soul form then at least he’d have some idea of what to do. But this? He wasn’t equipped for any of this mess right now.

...But maybe there was someone who was?

“Kisuke would have some idea of what to do about this.”

(That...and well, he couldn’t leave his ‘new son’ to suffer now, could he? Heh, he could just see Ryūken’s face when he told him. If anything, it would make a great memory to look back on while he was running for his life from the other’s arrows.) He glanced back at the other’s prone form and while he knew full well that the other didn’t seem to be processing things by anything other than a base level at the moment he felt the need to reassure him for his own peace of mind at the very least.

“I’m just going to step out for a second, there’s someone who might be better equipped to handle your condition. Just hunker down and hold tight okay kid?” He gave Uryū a brief pat on the shoulder –trying not to wince at the sharp crackle of errant spiritual energy that made his hair stand on end— and strode towards the small apartment’s front door.

<{-----+}

(The comforting feeling of cigarette-&-embers moving away as the man left to go somewhere else. A patchwork quilt of sightsoundhisnothis as the world blinked by in a series of snapshots going back and forth. The acid-fire of pins and needles and an ill-fitting skin being pricked like a pincushion. A flawed restructuring of self; error...action rendered incomplete, energy going into stabilization. Awaiting further instructions. A Whole-and-Fragments with overlap grating painfully against one another. A lantern spark of a familiar yet not Soul forcing a hard reset; new patterns found, translation successful, installing █̵̨̝͈̍█̶̢̛̼̼̥̩̈́̄̑̀̈́͜█̴̖̱̍̋͗█̷̪̒̄ͅ█̸̧̛̠̞͙͍͊͆͂͑̀█̴̧̜̺͈͕̓̑ͅ█̵͚͙̏͂͐̑̋ ̵̝̽̿̿̈͒█̶̯̼̣̟̏̐̈͂█̷͍̣̜͉̩͔͐̐█̸̢̛̬͉̰̈́̅█̷̡̲͐̏̉█̷̨̰͇͙̹̟̎̀̔̕█̷̰̎̒̓̕͝͠█̶̭̩̻͉̾█̵̳͌̽̋́̓̀█̴͇͙͂̊͋̎͝ ̵̢̠̱̓͆͐█̸̳̻̒͜█̴͕̥̫̽͊͠͝█̴̤̐͂͒͂̈́̕█̵̠̀̇͝█̵̢̳͙͓̟͑̃̅͠█̶̯͍͎̥̱̍͂͠█̷̧̹͈͉͐͝͝. A new equilibrium reached and becoming whole. Purpose fulfilled, pieces falling into place and a final dissipation...A dearth of energy and thus sinking deeper and deeper into the dark of sleep—)

“Kisuke would have some idea of what to do about this.”

A twitch.

(The distant sound of a voice low but urgent and the slow rousing of a distant memory. A slightly cracked door and the rising of noise from the source, as if it were someone that was trying to be quiet but had begun to forget themselves in their frustration. It enough to remember something as neurons rubbed together enough to connect that this was something they did not want to happen at any cost. Driven by pure instinct they lurched up, the world spinning at the sudden movement. They couldn’t stay here. They needed to get outside. Pitching forward, the fall was mercifully muffled by the thick fibers of the large area rug. The fading echo of white static as circulation returned to limbs having had long since fallen asleep and the nauseating rush of a world that was blurry and too bright and alive was a strong deterrent but they couldn’t curl up and sleep until the phantom ache of pins and needles faded away along with the rest of their problems like they desperately wanted to. The faint smoke-wrapped ember that filtered in from the cracked door behind him was as comforting as a funeral pyre at the moment and only served to remind them that they needed to move.

He hadn’t noticed them yet, but it was just a matter of time.)

(Could we take him out and make a run for it?)

(No. That would bring pain and death. Can’t get caught. Fate worse than death.)

(But they already ached so much. It was as if a yawning chasm had opened up in their very existence, and to fill that emptiness it needed to consume and consume and consume until there was nothing left. The void where that ocean once stood was so empty and they felt so h u n g r y.)

(They had to find another way. Unbidden, their gaze turned to the balcony and the hazy light of the moon above. The way that it filtered down through the clouds as it cast everything in a soft glow was honestly kind of beautiful. Another stirring of a half-remembered conversation from a world that had been dead twice-over where two overlapping viewpoints met and interlaced; it had been stupid and banal, something to pass the time as they raced across endless monochrome sands and keep himself from going nuts from the lack of visual stimuli and had startled an undignified snort out of his mouth but one thing that remained the same was that large unreachable light overhead.

The reverie was shattered when the voice in the hallway went silent for a bit too long. The lack of sound causing their hackles to rise in warning. Shit, he couldn’t be wasting time like this, they had to get out of there! But how? And yet despite it all that moon still loomed on the horizon.

...They had an idea.

There was no time to think, the quiet patter of footsteps and the desperation of the void spurred them on. They lifted a hand to the dark world behind the glass, fingers that were already far too pale clawing forward; their owner driven by some inbuilt instinct as they tried to grasp something far beyond mortal reach.

And then they grabbed it and tore the world asunder.

The body moved, jerking up and through the gaping maw without a second thought. Having served its purpose, the crack stitched itself back together, allowing reality to reseal behind it as if the aberration had never been there to begin with.

And then there were none.)

Ichigo (Who Is Currently Possessing Uryū): -Calls Isshin "Dad"- Isshin: -With joint custody and adoption papers at the ready- Congratulations and welcome to the family New Son. You have gained +1 dad. There is no escape. Also Uryū: Now it is imperative that we blend in to this world as not to give cause for alarm to the local populace and ruin our plans. -Acts sketchy af and passes out two seconds after meeting that world's version of his friends- ... Uryū:...Nailed it. (Fun fact: That plush dubbed “The Huntress” was one of the first that Uryū ever had made for him and it was based off of a mix of traditional Quincy stories that his Grandfather told him and tales about his adoptive daughter in her youth Masaki. Not that he knew it was her specifically until much later. Ichigo had a matching “The Hunter” one that vaguely resembled Ryūken that Isshin managed to “lose in the wash” when his wife and son were out grocery shopping one day. He had to sleep on the couch for a week for that one.)