#akumasighted

       Eyes narrowed into predatory slits, fur matted and soaked in what he despised to call ‘holy water’. Burns were prominent through quickly flowing veins of smoke, ink -like blood seeping through a torn coat. The day had taken a turn: Never before had he been called a demon, a proxy of an indifferent sin, and attacked all in one span of time. He’d been called an emissary of Lucifer before, despite how blatantly untrue the statement was - and oh, the god was annoyed. Now, with lightning curling around clenched fists, he spoke, a voice of thunder barreling across the air - 

              ❝ I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a lightning bolt up close, but I can gladly arrange for it to be shown to you should you take another step towards me. ❞

     It always made her little heart flutter with the singe of adoration whenever she got a brat to look at her with eyebags twitching and eyebrows in a slight furrow. She quite liked his tenacity--she quite liked those eyes of his, eyes that had the spark of knowing that there was something more in the world than what was presented. It was when she saw those eyes glaring at her, making her out to be some Big Bad Wolf, knowing that he’ll antagonize her and perhaps look at her example and think, “What a shitty way to shoot”, she can perhaps stop forgetting for once. But that wasn’t Revy’s style.

     Bang-bang. 21-21 vision--nailed double-time in the heart, bullet one after the other 'cause you never know if they’re wearing a shitty vest or not. She was an insurance company out to save your heart from the hospital bill. Ha. This was a lot better than waiting out in the hallways of this shitty academy. She’d long abandoned Rock and his dumb ass that oogled at all the pretty things and sniffed out a place that eerily suited a fourteen year old’s grudges complete with three piercings for each ear she stole from the box father kept under her picture frame. It made her feel like a kid again. “Hows’at for a shot?”

     ... His aim wasn’t bad at all. It was definitely a far cry from when she was his age, still practicing on cans & never seeming to hit the i in Heineken. She wondered how a boy could get so good without seeing a guy whose asshole housed maggots or a kid whose forehead made a sweet target for a merciful bullet sent from an angel. Revy’d rather not think about that while feeding her two cutlasses an appetizer in place of a meal. “Keep it cool, Sweetheart. Your elbows won’t lock properly if you’re makin’ that face at me. Your wrists’ll go bad if you’re handling two guns like that. Hey, I’ll teach ya for a discounted price of fifty an hour. I’ll teach you for free if you start calling me ‘Revy-sensei’--the look on Rock’s stupid fucking face’ll pay the price, haha!”

@akumasighted You asked and I gave. Now everyone has to look at the abomination, too.

                nothing but pure darkness surrounds him, a void so pitch black and so deathly quiet his heartbeat echoes. the HEART of both a demon and a human, that’s his only source of comfort. but in reality, it only worsens the fact that, indeed, he’s all alone. it SLOWLY sinks in, the feeling of ABANDONMENT. and his face CONTORTS in the bitter realization. then at that instance his nakama appear before him and for a moment rin is RELIEVED, smiling, even. but as he extends a hand out it, it was like touching a mist, nothing but a transparent illusion that wavered out before him. 

                that’s when rin knew, no one was there for him. his lungs burn as he tries to cry out but not a single noise escapes. ‘n-no…’ trembling his knees give in as he collapses down on the floor, kneeling hopelessly. he stares down at his hands with hazy vision, unable to focus it. ‘g-guys i thought y-you — ’ no, please, don’t leave him. he never asked for this. he never asked to be born, especially as the cursed son of satan. all his life even as a child people compared him to a demon for an EXPLOSIVE temper, now he COULDN’T even deny it wasn;’t trust. because it was. blood doesn’t lie, and boy, rin wish it did. don’t leave him, don’t leave him! 

              all these PEOPLE that he cared deeply for were no LONGER in front of him. the priests at the monastery, his real father, shima, izumo, shura, suguro, konekomaru, shiemi … and worst of all even — then that moment, all the DARKNESS fades as he’s greeted by the SCENERY of their dorm room CLOAKED in the moon’s light, and also the first person he sees is none other then; ❛ h-huh? y-yukio? w-what are you – ❜ spoke, feeling the firm grip of his brother’s hands on his shoulders. a little disorientated after WAKING up, the teen quickly shakes his head. the first thing he notices is how messy the covers were. was he THRASHING in his sleep? was it all just a dream? still SHAKEN up blue orbs fixate upon the younger, then without warning his hands come up to touch yukio’s shoulders to CONFIRM that he was, indeed, real and not another fake. 

             —— now, finally, he exhales with great strain as if he hasn’t BREATHED in forever. then finally he faces his brother, a HEAVY sigh heaved;

             ❛ a-ah jeez … sorry, did i wake you? ❜ 

pirates of the caribbean. || accepting!

          ❛ good, ❜ he huffs, kneeling beside the man.  they hadn’t expected the miasma to act so quickly – even the exorcists may have to inoculate themselves again before the night is up.  yukio pulls out a vial and carefully administers the vaccination before running an eye over the rest of the patient.  it seems shiemi has already started treating some of the nastier burns; this man had been one of the closest to the blast who hadn’t died on impact.  however, there are a few injuries that have yet to be addressed – a large piece of shrapnel stuck in the man’s gut being the most worrisome.  yukio moves to the man’s side, allowing better access to the wound.  as he looks it over, he offers shiemi a nod.

          ❛ you’ve done very well treating his burns, good job. now, i’ll need your help with applying some bandages, alright? there’s not much we can do about removing that, ❜ he says, with a nod to the debris, ❛ so we’ll just have to make sure it doesn’t get worse until we can get him to a hospital. i’ll hold him up, you wrap it around, alright? and try not to irritate the shrapnel too much. ❜

   Blood  s t a i n s  porcelain hands ;   w r e t c h e d   bile burns in her throat    as the smell    --- the awful, putrid stench of the dead and dying  COILS    and SLITHERS through her sinuses ;   h a t e f u l tears sting her eyes. It’s    suffocating!  Her fingers    - drip, drip, dripping with the very life of another    human -   tremble in a single moment of weakness before her control returns.    She swallows back the last of her uncertainty to find her voice, steady and    yet husky with unspoken emotion,   ❝  Okay, I’m ready when you are,    Yuki-chan!  ❞

   Shiemi’s fingers dance across the debris scattered around her until they    stumble upon the gauze and pads. The once clean linen is dirty now from falling    ash   (   it looks too much like snow &   the small voice of her subconscious tells    her she’ll n e v e r  see winter the same way again ),    but what  e l s e  can she    use? The girl presses against the wound to stabilize the ragged metal that    causes so much - too much, far too much -  damage ;   she leans forward to find    a better angle and begins the awkward process of covering an impossible    wound. TENACITY keeps her focus on the task before her, rather than the    f r a n t i c  thoughts that seek purchase in her mind.

   And then she’s finished ;   eyes heavy with worry peer upwards for approval    from Yukio   --- her friend, her mentor, and another source of concern for the girl    for entirely different reasons. She falls back to her heels with a weary sigh. Her    fingers thoughtlessly move to wipe strands of pale hair from a sweat streaked    cheek ;   crimson remains as a  g r o t e s q u e  parody to the day she met Rin.    She’s just as oblivious now,   ❝  What do we do ne -- !!  ❞

     ... her hair reflected the soda-sweet orange of impending evening, the light color reflecting the sun’s waning rays as she basked in the sun’s lingering presence. It warmed her from the outside-in. “... Being here is an obnoxious amount of work, isn’t it, Soul?” she asked, not expecting an answer--so he didn’t answer back. She twirled him around her fingers a few times before letting him rest soundly in the nook of her shoulder & neck, letting him teeter on her body as she linked her fingers and stretched her arms behind her. Sigh.

     “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?”--to nobody in particular. She swiveled on her heel and popped Soul into her fingers, turning him ‘round & ‘round about her body in an extravagant sort of boredom and promptly began to dance with the air: a tango to the sound of blades falling in love for the first time. Pang bang--with the sound of a gunshot, her showtime ended and the orange in the sky swirled into the same red that slid down her scythe’s silver shaft. It took a few seconds before the red became black and started to flake off Soul’s body.

     She spun him to get the rest of it off before she planted the butt of his shaft into a crack in scarlet-dyed rock. “Did I do something wrong?”

Marinette was not one to hold grudges against people who were legitamitely better than her. Which included one Yukio Okumura who currently outranked her in the order. In her personal opinion, she thought the ranking system was somewhat stupid and meaningless. Marinette didn’t vocally speak her distaste for the system, preferring to keep her complaining to Tikki in their private rooms. Speaking of Yukio, Marinette saw said exorcist and approached him with a smile.

“Good morning Mr. Okumura.”

She greeted him, her long hair was currently down as her two demon blades were on her back. Tikki was dozing off in her bag and she held Plagg in her arms. She knew that he could change his size to fit inside a small bag, yet she also knew how much he didn’t like that so she accepted the fact that she would be carrying him around the school.

I’M FUCKING CRYIGNGFSJASJSJSJS

I got u fam. You been stressed so I gave you a wholesome, quality meme to make you feel better. 

I was fucking successful and that made it worth it.