#otte-ball

You didn't 'visit' the circus. That word implies choice. You just… never found a way to leave after helping Pierrot that first time. Helping him wasn't just kindness in your mind, it was pity dressed up as decency.

He looked fragile, unsettlingly so, and something in you said that if you walk away, something worse will happen to him. Pierrot interprets your hesitation as gentleness. Your silence as understanding. Your lack of resistance as trust.

But it isnt.

And it never will be.

It’s calculation.

You learn quickly that saying 'no' doesn’t work here. Not because he would punish you outright, he would never!

But because he isnt trustable.

He stalks, he watches, he lurks.

Its better to stay silent.

So you adapt. You nod. You comply.

You minimize yourself. Its safer this way.

He's a monster, compliance is key.

Around Pierrot you keep your voice soft, but your body angled away. You never sit too close unless forced.

When he leans in, you subtly shift just enough to keep space without making it obvious.

He thinks you’re shy.

'How sweet, my dear!' He ponders, looking at you shift away from him, every so subtly. Your just shy. But don't worry! He's here until you warm up..

You’re actually just thinking a way out.

-

Harlequin is worse in a different way.

Too loud.

Too close.

Too interested

He notices everything:

The way your shoulders tense when he oh so ever nears, the way your smile never reaches your eyes(even with Pierrot!), the way you freeze when he circles behind you.

But instead of understanding, he treats it like a game.

Because it IS a game! For him at least.

“Ohhh, you’re nervous! That’s adorable.”

You laugh at his jokes.

Not because it’s funny(when are they ever?) because it’s safer.

Who knows what he can do with those tendrils. Its better to avoid letting history repeat itself.

-

The Ticket Taker watches you like you’re a misplaced object. Not unkind. But not kind either. When you follow instructions without question, he seems… satisfied. Good. You suspect he's the type who’d notice if you tried to leave- so you never test it.

'Like a doll. If only I was able to make them a fool before Pierrot and Harlequin got to them.' Ticket taker would murmured in the depths of his mirrors. Watching you carefully pass through his tent.

Its a good idea to cover your vanity mirror tonight. And the night after.

(can you tell I'm getting lazy🥹)

-

The Doctor unnerves you the most.

Observant, that one.

He notices your distance immediately.

"You’re experiencing sustained stress, patient” he tells you once, like it’s a diagnosis instead of a situation. You nod, you don’t tell him, an 'oh.' Should be fine. He was never that hard to satisfy.

Stay still? Suddenly your a statue,

Take this injection? Well, doctor knows best.

But when asks more about the stress.. he’s part of the reason.

He's one of them.

-

Jester is... tricky.

He treats everything like a joke. Because he knows.

Seeing you squirm under his gaze is entertaining, including your discomfort. Mimics your stiff posture .

Exaggerates your careful steps, laughs when you flinch at his actions. But sometimes -just sometimes- he stops. Watches you. Looks deep into this hesitant eyes of yours. Tilts his head like he’s trying to figure out if you’re playing along… or genuinely afraid. You look away before he decides.

"Your like a puzzle I need to crack, mm? Aren't you, pet?" You just nod, glancing at anything but him.

-

You’ve mastered the art of un-provocative presence. Perfect.

Agree, but not enthusiastically , smile, but not brightly , stay, but never settle You don’t bond with them, not emotionally.

You survive around them.

Pierrot, meanwhile, believes that you chose to stay, you understand him.

You’re just… delicate. Something to treat with care, something to love throughly.

When you pull away, he doesn’t see fear.. He sees something to be patient with.

And that’s what traps you the most.

Not cruelty.

Not force.

But the fact that none of them fully realize you were never comfortable. You were just too scared to do anything else.

Nights are the hardest. When things go quiet, your mind gets loud.

Why am I still here? Why didn't leave earlier? Why did I bother to help? Why did i... ..

it doesn't matter anymore. Your just...

Sweet.

Adorable.

Doll.

Patient.

Pet.

At least your not on their bad side... right?

.

.

.

You feel axious tonight, maybe it would be good to buy a few extra locks. The intuition alone is enough to have you on your toes.

A/n; is it obvious I've been reading ALOT of non-con for this? I wrote this is in one night LETS GO

Creds to @enchanthings for banners

At first, you thought distance would be enough.Nothing dramatic. Nothing cruel. Just small, careful acts of betrayal self-protection.

You stopped lingering near Pierrot after you were done helping him. You answered his questions with shorter replies. You made excuses when he asked you to stay. You kept your hands to yourself, your body angled away, your attention deliberately elsewhere.

You started saying things like, "I need space." and “Please don’t stand so close." In a voice that was as gentle as you could make it. You told yourself that if you were polite enough, clear enough, maybe he would understand.

Pierrot only tilted his head, quiet and observant, as if he were watching something odd tug at him. It was indeed very odd for the creature

The first time you set a real boundary, he looked surprised. Not angry. Not yet. You had been helping him with something small, something he had asked for in that soft, broken way of his that used to make pity twist in your chest. But when he stepped closer to thank you, you stepped back.

"Don’t." You said before you could stop yourself. Then, after a beat, because your heart was pounding too hard and you needed him to understand, “Please don’t do that.”

His expression didn’t change much, but something in the air around him did.

"Oh." He said quietly. Then smiled wider. That's okay. You just need some time adjusting. He can wait..

You nodded once, wishing you could take the words back and still mean them at the same time. "I'm serious,” you added. “I need some space, Pierrot..."

Pierrot was still for a long moment. Then he gave a small, almost graceful nod, and stepped away. It's fine. You'll soften into him...

Eventually.

For a while, you thought it had worked. For a while, he listened. He stopped reaching for your sleeve. Stopped leaning in when you spoke. Stopped appearing at your side the moment you turned around. The relief lasted exactly long enough for you to start believing the worst of it was over. But he changed in ways that were harder to name. He watched now.

Constantly.

He noticed when you spoke more steadily to the Ticket Taker than to him, more eye contact, more steadily more... real. When you stood farther from the center of the tent. When you made a point of never being alone with him.

When you flinched, just slightly, every time Harlequin called your name too brightly from across the room. Pierrot began to look at you like you were slipping out of reach.

Maybe you were... no, NO! He shoulding be thinking of his dear like this! You- you loved him! Right?

It started with the small things. He would be waiting outside your path when you turned a corner, silent and pale and patient. He would ask if you were avoiding him in that calm, gentle voice that made the question feel worse than if he had shouted it.

"My dear- are you.. avoiding me?" You could feel the guilt shredding you apart from the inside.

He would offer to walk with you, to carry things for you, to make it easier.

"Let me hold that for you, my dear. I'm sure its bothering you."

Each time, you said no.

Each time, he looked more and more as if he didn’t understand why. Because why would you say no? He was being gentle, he wasnt even raising his voice at you, goddammit!

.

"I'm allowed to say no." You responded him one evening, keeping your voice steady with effort. "I’m allowed to not want to be touched. I’m allowed to be left alone." Your doing it, your finally doing it!

Pierrot blinked slowly. For a moment, he looked genuinely confused, as though the words had been spoken in another language. Then his expression softened into something almost sad.

"Did I upset you?"

The question should have sounded harmless.It didn’t.Because there was something carefully wrong about the way he asked it, something that made your stomach twist. Not guilt. Not remorse. Just the need to identify where you had gone wrong in the script he had already written.

"Yes." Firm, your suprised you could manage that. "You did." He stared at you. You held his gaze only because you forced yourself to. "I'm not doing this anymore." You continued. "I'm not going to keep pretending I’m comfortable just because it’s easier for everyone else." There. You said it... finally.

The silence that followed was heavy and strange.When Pierrot finally spoke, his voice was almost too soft to hear.

"I thought you were kind."

Your chest tightened. "I am." You responded, and hated how shaky it sounded. "I'm still being kind. That does not mean you get access to me." For a second, his face went empty. Was he understanding this?

Then the mask settled back into place with that, stupid, stupid grin. "Of course." He murmured. Staring through your soul.

But after that, everything shifted.He stopped asking.He started deciding.Your meals appeared where you could not avoid them. Your time was quietly accounted for. People drifted away when you tried to speak to them, as if someone had already told them not to interfere.

Harlequin’s jokes grew sharper when you tried to leave a room early. Doctors eyes sharpened every time you attempted to drift. Ticket taker would linger behind you just long enough for it to be a coincidence. Jester's gaze is now harder to decipher, but it still burns to feel it on your skin.

And Pierrot became stiller. Calmer. This is what you wanted

You began to feel it before you saw it: the pressure of his attention, the sense of being enclosed by it. And once the skies faded to that overlooming black, you tried to leave the circus. You had things to wake up to tomorrow and you are one of the last to leave.

You were halfway to the exit when a gloved clawed hand closed around your wrist. You startled so hard your breath caught in your throat.

"Don’t leave." Pierrot murrmered. His voice was calm. Too calm.You turned, yanking once. "Please?"

"Let go."

He didn’t. Your pulse slammed in your ears.

"Pierrot."

He stared at you like he was memorizing your face."You keep running from me." He whispered, and now the hurt in his voice was unmistakable, raw and aching, like he genuinely believed you had done something cruel to him.

"After everything. After I waited, and waited and waited for you to warm up." The words made your skin go cold. "This is what you decide? To leave?"

"I never owed you that." you said, stepping back against his grip. "I helped you because I felt bad for you. That is all. I told you to give me space." His fingers tightened.For the first time, there was something frighteningly final in his expression.

"No.." he whispered. "You helped me because you love me. You can't leave no." You tried to pull free.

"Stop lying to yourself, my dear.."

He moved faster than you expected. One moment you were standing in the dark air outside the tent, and the next he had forced you close enough that you could feel the strange, quiet strength in him. You made a sound of panic, twisting hard, but his arm locked around you before you could escape.

"Pierrot- stop!" His face was right beside yours now, too close, too pale, too calm. Your eyes darted around, you needed someone to help, anyone. Ticket taker nor the other were anywhere in sight.

"I tried." He started, and it sounded like an explanation. "I tried to be good." Then everything went horribly still. You realized, with a sudden surge of dread.

That this wasn’t anger.

It was decision.

And when he lifted you off your feet and placed that chemical ridden cloth over your mouth before carrying you back toward the tent, ignoring your struggle, your fear, your muffled voice breaking with protest, there was no doubt left at all.

Pierrot had not misunderstood your boundaries.

He had simply decided they did not matter.

Because someone already left him once.

You can't too. You love him.

A/n; istg im a normal person irl

Creds to @enchanthings for banners!

Anyways, any thoughts about Artemitis ll? I feel really inspired.

During the day, it was all scattered footsteps, annoyed barks from the larger crouds, purrs, and the hurried voices of the day staff doing their best to keep everyone calm.

But at night, the halls became gentle and still, lit by warm lamps and the pale glow from the front desk. You liked this time best, despite the obvious.... flaws in its 'patients', it was easier to breathe when the building wasn’t buzzing with activity. Easier to tuck your hands behind your back, hum to yourself, and wander the hallway with a cup of coffee warming your palms.

Tonight's shift, though, there was a new hire. To be frank, with amount of new interns and nurses coming in every few shifts -you were happy to help them adjust in the new enviroment- teaching them at their own pace as a true mentor should.

But this new hire however...

When you two first met, the black cat had refused all your advances to try and help him around the hospital. Often just staring at you with those narrow yellow eyes of his.

At some point you just gave up trying to help him manage through the shifts

At the end of the check in counter stood Secret Agent, as unreadable and elegant as ever. His black suit looked impossibly neat even after a long shift, and their dark silhouette seemed to swallow the light around him. He was staring at a clipboard which help the patiients documents with such focused silence that it almost felt rude to interrupt.

.

.

.

Almost.

You smiled anyway and walked closer either way, if you can't help him around, you can at least help him rest for a bit and take a break, he also hasn't had a cup of coffee since the start of the shift.

So, you approach with two cups of coffee, one for him, and one for you.

"You know,"

You started lightly.

"If you keep looking at that like it personally offended you, it may start apologizing." You joked, nudging him softly, -suprisingly- he didn’t retaliate.

Secret Agent’s ears twitched. His eyes lifted to you, the faintest glint of surprise giving way to something softer when he recognized your voice.

"I was not glaring." He responded, voice low and level. You tilted your head. "Mm-hm. Then the clipboard is just in a very intense staring contest." For a moment, there was only silence. Then, very quietly, Secret Agent’s mouth curved.

It was small, almost hidden, but you noticed. You always noticed. You held out the coffee either way.

"Thought you might want this." His gaze dropped to the cup in your hands. "What kind?"

"An expresso, double shot for you." You raised it towards him, waiting patiently.

That earned you a longer pause. Secret Agent took the coffee carefully, his gloved fingers brushing yours for just a second. "You speak as though you know me very well. You gave him a bright, easy smile. "I'm trying to."

The words sat between you for a heartbeat, soft and warm and entirely sincere. Secret Agent looked away first, though not unkindly. He took a sip, and the tiniest change in his expression told you everything you needed to know. "Well?" You asked.

"It is acceptable." He muttered, you laughed. "Acceptable?" "..It is better than acceptable.” Another pause. "It is… good." You beamed so hard it made your cheeks hurt. "There we go. I knew you had it in you."

That made him look at you again, and this time his expression was almost helplessly fond. Secret Agent, who seemed carved from shadows and secrets, looked at you like you had just handed him something fragile and precious. It made your chest flutter.

You rocked back on your heels, suddenly a little shy under his attention. "So. What are you still doing here?"

He lifted the clipboard slightly. "I was reviewing this person's documents." "And the results now are..?" "Now," he responded after a quiet pause, “I am being distracted." You rolled your eyes in mock offense.

"By me?" His eyes narrowed just a touch, though there was no real edge to it. "By your presence." That should have sounded stern. With Secret Agent, it somehow sounded like a confession.Your smile softened.You stepped closer until you were standing beside them, shoulder almost brushing theirs. Both of you forgetting about the patient infront of you, waiting to be registered.

“Then I’ll 'distract' you properly.”

Secret Agent gave you a long, measuring look, as though weighing the risk of encouraging you. Then, to your delight, he placed the clipboard to the nearby counter and set the coffee down with deliberate care. "And how do you intend to do that?" You clasped your hands behind your back and leaned forward with playful seriousness.

"First, you are going to sit down." "I am perfectly capable of standing."

"Second, you are going to finish your coffee." "I am already doing that."

You gasped softly.

"Look at you, being cooperative." There it was again- that tiny, impossibly little chuckle under his breath disguised as a grumble_. Secret Agent turned and walked out of the register area, taking a seat on one of the waiting-room benches, posture straight but less rigid than before, but clearly expecting you to follow.

You settled beside him - not before quickly calling the secretary to finish regestering in the patient on your behalf- , close enough to share warmth, and rested your own cup in both hands. The hallway was quiet around you. A sleepy purr drifted from the cat ward. Somewhere farther away, a monitor gave a soft, steady beep.

The hospital felt peaceful in a way it rarely did during the day, not that there was that much of a diffrence with the occasional ambulance and.. anomalies, like even the walls were letting out a long breath.

You glanced sideways at Secret Agent. "You know, I think you’re secretly very sweet." "I am not." You hummed thoughtfully.

"You are."

"No."

"You bring stray animals snacks."

"They require nourishment."

"You remember every intern's name."

"It is useful information."

"You lower your voice when the nurses are scared from the anomalies."

"They respond well to calm tones."

You smiled into your cup. "That sounds a lot like being sweet."

Secret Agent was silent for a moment.Then they said, very flatly;

"You are determined." You turned to them with shining eyes.

"And you like it."

That time, he did not answer right away.But when he glanced at you again, there was no mystery in his look, only quiet affection that had nowhere to hide. "Perhaps." He admitted. The word made warmth bloom in your chest. You leaned your shoulder gently against his.

"I knew it." Secret Agent stilled for half a second, like they had not expected the contact, but they did not move away. Instead, after a moment, they shifted just enough to rest more comfortably beside you. It felt natural. Easy. Right.

You stayed there together in the soft light of the empty hospital, sharing crappy machine coffee and silence and the kind of company that never needed to be loud to be felt. After a while, Secret Agent spoke again, so softly you nearly missed it.

"You are very bright." Secret Agent stated. You blinked. "Bright?"

"Yes." His gaze remained forward, but his voice was gentle. "You make the room feel lighter."

Even as you chuckled at his words, he continued.

"I've seen you train the interns- you teach by example. That's something not only respectable but also captivating."

Your face grew warm, so you smiled and let your hand drift over until your pinkie brushed theirs. Secret Agent’s hand stilled.

Then, carefully, almost shyly, he hooked his pinkie around yours, making sure none of his claws hurt you. It was such a tiny gesture. It somehow meant everything. And in the quiet of the cold hospital waiting room, with warm coffee in your hands and Secret Agent beside you, all sharp edges and hidden kindness, you felt like the luckiest person in the world, even in this messed up hospital.

The shift went on smoothly after that, full of shared warmth, silent assists, no ambulances, and the sweetest kind of peace.

a/n; this was really fun to write lol. got me out of writers block.٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

divider creds; @enchanthings

i kinda imagined the readers to position to be like the head nurse status instead of intern, bare with me here please.

"Your speed has improved!"

"And yours hasn’t slowed down at all." You shot back, pushing against him before flipping away to gain distance. He laughed, loud, warm, genuine.

"Of course not! One must always strive to grow stronger!" You circled each other again, feet kicking up dust. This time, he came at you swift, powerful, but never careless. Every strike he made carried intent, but also trust.

He knew you could match him. And you did, your blade slipped past his guard for just a second. Just enough to graze his haori.You both froze. Then-

"HA! MAGNIFICENT!" He declared, sheathing his sword immediately. "A clean hit! You’ve surpassed your previous limit!" You blinked, still catching your breath.

"That… wasn’t even a full match."

"Progress is measured in moments like these."

He said, stepping closer. His presence, as always, felt like standing near a steady fire, never overwhelming, just… warm.

He offered you a hand. You took it. His grip was firm, calloused, but gentle. "Training with you." He continued, smiling in that unwavering way of his,

"Is something I look forward to every day."

Your heart did something inconvenient.

“…You say that to everyone?" "Not at all!" He replied instantly. "Only to those I respect- and enjoy." There was no teasing in his tone. Just honesty. You looked away, suddenly very aware of how close he still was.

"…Then don’t go easy on me tomorrow." His smile widened.

"I wouldn’t dream of it!"

And somehow, despite the exhaustion in your limbs, you found yourself looking forward to it too.

A/n: ME? Missing since febuary? Such blasphemy! I would never!(I would and did)

Creds to @saradika-graphics

The battlefield had gone quiet. Not truly silent, there were still the distant crackles of fire, the uneven breathing of the wounded, the soft rustle of wind through broken trees, but compared to the chaos from moments before, it felt… still.

Too still.

You stood frozen for a moment, your blade hanging loosely at your side, your chest rising and falling far too fast. Your eyes searched—desperately, fear clawing its way up your throat—until they found him.

Kyojurou Rengoku.

Oh.

Oh.

On his knees. Blood.So much blood.Your feet moved before your mind could catch up.

"Rengoku!-"

But you stopped short. Because he was smiling.

Smiling.

Even now… he was smiling.

You watched from a distance as he spoke to that Kamado boy and the others. His voice, though weaker now, still carried that same warmth, that same unwavering conviction. He praised them, encouraged them, told them to live on.

To grow stronger.

To protect others.

Just as he always had. Your hands trembled at your sides. You wanted to run to him, to hold him, to demand he stop talking like this. Like it was the end.

But you knew.

Hashira didn’t misunderstand wounds like that.And neither did you. When the others finally broke, when their tears came, when their voices cracked-

You stepped forward. Quietly, gently. Like approaching a flame you were afraid might flicker out if you moved too fast.

"Hey…" Your voice came out softer than expected. His eyes shifted to you. And just like that- his smile changed.

Softer.

Warmer.

Yours.

"Ah." He breathed, relief evident even through the pain.

"You’re safe."

You dropped to your knees in front of him, hands hovering for only a second before settling carefully over his.

"I should be asking you that." He laughed, weak, but real. "I have fulfilled my duty." Your throat tightened.

"I know."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You simply looked at him, really looked. Committing everything to memory. The gold in his eyes, the way his hair framed his face, the warmth that still lingered in his expression despite everything.

"You did more than that." You said quietly. "You protected everyone. You saved them." His gaze softened further.

"I am glad… I could fight beside you." A shaky breath left you.

"You always say things like that-" "-Because they are the truth."

You tightened your hold on his hands. They were still warm. But not as warm as they should be.

"…Kyojurou." It wasn’t his title. Not Rengoku. Just him. His eyes flickered, something emotional passing through them at the sound.

"You’ve done enough." You whispered.

"You don’t have to hold on anymore."

For the first time, He hesitated. Not out of fear. But… reluctance.

"…There is still so much I wish to do." He admitted softly.

"I know." Your vision blurred, but your voice stayed steady.

You wouldn’t let it shake. Not now.

"I know." You repeated, brushing your thumb gently across his hand.

"But you've given everything already. You don’t owe anyone anything more." His breathing slowed. You leaned closer.

"I love you." You whispered, the words quiet but unwavering.

"And I’m so proud of you." His eyes widened slightly. Then softened. Like a flame settling.

"…I love you as well."

You pressed your forehead gently against his. "If there is another life." You murmured, voice barely above a breath.

"Find me again." A faint, peaceful smile curved his lips as he responded.

"I will."

The wind passed through once more. Soft, gentle. And the warmth in his hands… slowly faded.

And faded.

Until it wasnt there.

But his smile never did.

You stayed there a while longer, holding him.

Not as a Hashira.

Not as a warrior.

Just as someone who loved him.

And let him go.

In peace.

A/n: this was surprisingly really fun lol

A joint operation between the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia, temporary cooperation, fragile as glass. Retrieve an artifact, neutralize a threat, leave without killing each other.

Simple.It stopped being simple the moment Atsushi started coughing. At first, no one thought much of it. Dust from the ruins, they assumed. The underground chamber they’d broken into was suffocating, thick with age and something else—something metallic and wrong in the air. But then Atsushi staggered.

“Atsushi?” Kunikida’s voice sharpened.

“I’m fine-” He tried, but the words dissolved into a violent cough that doubled him over. His hand came away spotted with red.That’s when everything unraveled. They barely made it out.

The artifact was secured- some cursed relic sealed hastily in a containment case, but Atsushi collapsed before they even reached the extraction point. His body burned with fever, skin clammy and pale, breaths shallow and uneven.

"It’s not a normal illness." Yosano said immediately, her expression grim as she pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Something in that chamber. A pathogen… or an ability."

"Can you heal him?" someone asked.

Her silence was answer enough.

"I can’t treat what I don’t understand." She said finally.

"And if it’s ability-based, forcing regeneration could make it worse.”The air grew heavy.

"Then we find a cure." Kunikida snapped.

"Now."

Orders were barked. Contacts were called. The uneasy alliance fractured into urgency. Agency and Mafia scattering to chase leads, to interrogate informants, to tear apart the city if necessary.And somehow, in the middle of all that chaos.

Atsushi ended up in Akutagawa’s care. It wasn’t intentional, at least, that’s what Akutagawa told himself.

The others had left in a hurry, trusting that Atsushi was stable enough for the moment.

Yosano had given strict instructions, left medicine that barely held the fever at bay, and then she, too, was gone, off to find something that could actually save him.Which left Akutagawa standing in a dim safehouse room, staring at the trembling form on the bed.

"…Tch." He should have left. There were more efficient uses of his time than babysitting a dying weretiger. He could be out there, hunting leads, forcing answers out of anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path.

Instead, he stayed.

Atsushi stirred, a soft, broken sound escaping his throat.Akutagawa moved

before he could think better of it, stepping closer. The fever had worsened, Atsushi’s breathing ragged, his body shaking as if caught between burning and freezing.

"…Akutagawa…?"

The name was barely a whisper, slurred and uncertain.His eyes fluttered open, unfocused.

"You’re hallucinating." Akutagawa said flatly. A weak huff of something like a laugh.

"Figures…"

His hand twitched against the sheets, as if reaching for something that wasn’t there.Akutagawa hesitated.Then, with visible irritation, he caught Atsushi’s wrist and held it still.

"Stop moving. You’re wasting energy."

"…you stayed." Atsushi murmured, confusion threading through the fever.Silence.Akutagawa didn’t answer. Time blurred. The fever climbed higher.

Atsushi drifted in and out of consciousness, caught in something that looked too much like drowning. His body fought something invisible, something ruthless. Dark veins began to spider faintly beneath his skin signs of whatever infection or ability had taken hold.

Every time his breathing faltered, Akutagawa was there. Adjusting his position. Forcing water past his lips. Keeping him anchored when his body tried to slip away.

"Don’t die." Akutagawa muttered once, the words low and sharp, like an order.

"Not before I kill you myself."

Atsushi let out a weak, breathless laugh that dissolved into coughing. "Still… saying that…"

"You would prefer I lie?"

"…no…"

His fingers tightened weakly in Akutagawa’s sleeve.

"…don’t go."

The words were small. Barely there.Akutagawa froze.

"…You are delusional." "…I know…"

But he didn’t let go. And Akutagawa didn’t pull away. Hours passed.No word came from the others.

The medicine stopped working.Atsushi’s fever spiked so violently that his body began to convulse, breath hitching in terrifying, uneven gasps. His ability flickered uncontrollably- faint stripes appearing and vanishing across his skin, claws half-forming before dissolving again.It was tearing him apart.Akutagawa clenched his jaw.

"…Pathetic." He muttered, though there was no bite to it.

“You can’t even control your own ability in death?”Atsushi didn’t respond.His eyes were half-lidded now, unfocused, lips parted slightly as each breath grew shallower than the last.

"Oi."

Akutagawa snapped, sharper this time. "Nakajima Atsushi." "Nothing.For the first time- panic flickered. It was subtle. Buried deep. But it was there.

"…Don’t you dare." Rashomon lashed out instinctively, not to attack, but to wrap around Atsushi, holding him together as his body trembled violently. As if sheer force could keep him from breaking apart.

"…You always get back up." Akutagawa said, voice low, strained in a way he didn’t recognize.

“That’s what you do.” Silence. “…So get up.” Nothing.

Atsushi’s breathing stuttered. The world went still. Akutagawa didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe. For a moment, everything, every mission, every rivalry, every insult, every fight, collapsed into a single, unbearable absence.

"…No."

It came out quieter than expected.Rashomon tightened unconsciously, as if trying to force life back into a body that had already gone slack.

"…I did not permit this."

His hand hovered, then pressed against Atsushi’s chest.No heartbeat.

"…Get up."

Nothing. The silence stretched, and shattered. A ragged breath tore through Atsushi’s lungs.Weak. Broken. But there. Akutagawa froze.Another breath followed. Shallow.

Fragile.

But alive.

"…Tch."

His grip tightened, just slightly. "…pathetic." He repeated, though the word carried something dangerously close to relief.

Atsushi’s eyes fluttered weakly, unfocused but there. Still there.“…Akutagawa…?”“…You are insufferable,” he said sharply. “Dying and returning at your convenience."

A faint, ghost of a smile touched Atsushi’s lips.

"…sorry…" "…Don’t apologize."

The words came out too fast.Too quiet.Akutagawa turned away slightly, as if that could hide anything.

"…Just don’t do it again."

The door slammed open. Voices, urgent, chaotic, filled the room as the others returned, carrying answers, carrying a cure. Too late, they might have been. But not quite. Not this time.

And as they rushed to save him, Akutagawa stepped back into the shadows.

Watching.

Waiting.

Ensuring

That Atsushi stayed alive.

A/n; you gotta stop asking me for this mootie🫶

𐔌⋮ 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔 ₊ ꒱

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And those restrictions are;

𓍯 ִֶָ racism

𓍯 ִֶָ homophobia

𓍯 ִֶָ hate/harassment towards the me or my mooties

𓍯 ִֶָ inc*st

𓍯 ִֶָ transphobia

𓍯 ִֶָ anyone under 18(for my more adult works(i will mark them when theyre 18+). But anything else is a-okay!)

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I think that is all! Thank you and enjoy!

Creds for banners; @enchanthings

Angst-🍄 Fluff-🔮 suggestive-🎊 request-🎟 event-🎀 18+-🪅

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♤ The warmest kind of strength(Kyojurou🎟🔮

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nothing yet!

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◇ Compliance is key(All)🍄🪅

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¤ A break is needed(secret Agent x reader)

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