Shirokishi Ch 1
May. 9th, 2019 09:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamer...Ghiaccio has no chill, ironically. That has absolutely nothing to do with the fic.
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Bleach
Fic Summary: I started writing this ages ago and do not remember what I was doing (besides the fact that it was kinda derivative). The next part has a male OC that I was shipping with Xander for whatever reason. If you look closely you might see some XDH (which was written about the same time) and prototype I Hope Tomorrow's a Better day here. I'm not sure how many chapters but it's being labeled as alternative paths because I have no intention of doing anything other than potentially copying out what's currently written.
Nanashi is an OC who was somehow related to Ukitake themewise because I found the "sick but very powerful" aspect interesting.
I do probably have pictures of the Zanpuktou for this story somewhere, and just have to scan or camera and upload.
Word Count: 832
Rating: Teen
Nanashi was already blaming himself for losing his sword to the enemy. Ironically, even flash step was too slow, weakened as he was by the preceding fight, but he did manage to dodge, just a little.
What little good it did.
He felt the steel bite into his heart, just as he felt a sudden change in reiatsu in the air. The memories of Nanashi began to disappear, but…no, that’s not right. If he closes his eyes and thinks, he can sift through the memories. They’ve just faded a little, much less immediate than his own. In the end, though, perhaps, not that it’ll matter.
“XANDER!” Willow screams, and he thinks,
Yes, that’s my name.
He coughs and there’s blood, and he looks up and sees the vampire grin, twist the blade.
His heart labors, squeezes frantically, but there’s no way. He feels his consciousness fading, even as he reaches out one hand weakly to grasp for it.
Not now. I can’t die, not now, not like this. Buffy, Willow…
Will you refuse to die? a voice asks. If I offered you power to protect yourself, protect your friends and all you care about, would you accept it?
Not if the price is worse than me dying, he answers honestly. He’s seen enough horror movies, let alone the real life deal, to know that just randomly accepting deals from mysterious voices was a bad idea.
He’s met with a laugh, and for a moment, the world ceases to exist. Or perhaps he does.
He’s told that the power, blue and glowing, exploded outwards, knocking over several. That Buffy got up, no longer the helpless maiden, and began fighting Spike with no quip on her tongue, just a solemn ruthlessness. He’s told that the zanpukto disappeared from his heart, fragmenting and melting into air as if it had never been. That the clothes he wore were still torn, still blood-tattered, but the wound had closed up as if nothing had happened.
He’s told this, because he was aware of none of it.
The first thing he remembers is floating down and touching the ground lightly with sandal-clad feet. A sword’s at his side, and it’s not the bamboo hilt of Nanashi’s zanpukto. It’s an unusual longsword, that much he can tell at a mere glance. The leather of the hilt’s been treated, blackened, but some sort of silver zig-zag pattern crosses it. There’s no real guard, just an extension of the sword blade…
“Stop admiring your new accessory and help out!” Buffy yells at him, and he stands for a moment confused, before grinning. Her voice is trembling, yes, but she’s quipping again, and he’s alive, so they don’t have to mourn him, and that’s of the good.
He pulls out the sword, and it’s patterned. It reminds him of Africa, which isn’t good, because…
He can feel something laugh, delighted that he’s about to fight, and he holds back for a second too long. Spike’s eyes widen, and with no preamble he jumps onto a window and out.
Xander tries to follow, but ends up coughing blood instead, falling. It reminds him of one of Nanashi’s memories, but he can’t find it, not now.
“Are you all right?!” Buffy asks, trying not to raise her voice, and runs to his side.
He takes stock, cautiously prodding his own reiatsu, and is forced to conclude, “I’m fine, Buffy. Apparently I just still had some blood in my system. In places it shouldn’t be, I mean. And I’m exhausted, but that makes sense. Where’s Willow?”
Buffy nearly panics, but then puts the pieces together. “She was a ghost. She’s probably back to wherever her body had been.”
“Oh. Right.” He tries, for a moment, to flash step, before nearly falling again. There’s no more blood, no more pain, just exhaustion, and if he pushes his spirit power too much more, he’s not going to be able to walk, let alone use shunpo.
“You thought you were going to leave me behind?” Buffy motions for the kids to follow them, and none of them are in the mood to argue, too shocked to complain or cry. She reaches out and hits his arm, and it hurts…but, interestingly enough, not as much as before. She still doesn’t know her own strength. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry. It wasn’t planned, trust me.” Even after this, he’s smiling.
“I’d hope not. Just in case, though, you should probably have Giles take a look at you.” She tries to hide the worry in her face, and only partially succeeds. He loves her, though, so he’s not going to mention it. “Will that be okay with your parents?”
“Only if they notice I’m not there,” he answers tiredly, light tone lost a little in the exhaustion.
The hug’s the only thing keeping him on his feet.
~Dreamer~
Main Points:
Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Bleach
Fic Summary: I started writing this ages ago and do not remember what I was doing (besides the fact that it was kinda derivative). The next part has a male OC that I was shipping with Xander for whatever reason. If you look closely you might see some XDH (which was written about the same time) and prototype I Hope Tomorrow's a Better day here. I'm not sure how many chapters but it's being labeled as alternative paths because I have no intention of doing anything other than potentially copying out what's currently written.
Nanashi is an OC who was somehow related to Ukitake themewise because I found the "sick but very powerful" aspect interesting.
I do probably have pictures of the Zanpuktou for this story somewhere, and just have to scan or camera and upload.
Word Count: 832
Rating: Teen
“I wonder how you’d feel, if I stabbed you with your own magic sword,” Spike stated lightly, grinning. “Let’s find out, shall we?”
Nanashi was already blaming himself for losing his sword to the enemy. Ironically, even flash step was too slow, weakened as he was by the preceding fight, but he did manage to dodge, just a little.
What little good it did.
He felt the steel bite into his heart, just as he felt a sudden change in reiatsu in the air. The memories of Nanashi began to disappear, but…no, that’s not right. If he closes his eyes and thinks, he can sift through the memories. They’ve just faded a little, much less immediate than his own. In the end, though, perhaps, not that it’ll matter.
“XANDER!” Willow screams, and he thinks,
Yes, that’s my name.
He coughs and there’s blood, and he looks up and sees the vampire grin, twist the blade.
His heart labors, squeezes frantically, but there’s no way. He feels his consciousness fading, even as he reaches out one hand weakly to grasp for it.
Not now. I can’t die, not now, not like this. Buffy, Willow…
Will you refuse to die? a voice asks. If I offered you power to protect yourself, protect your friends and all you care about, would you accept it?
Not if the price is worse than me dying, he answers honestly. He’s seen enough horror movies, let alone the real life deal, to know that just randomly accepting deals from mysterious voices was a bad idea.
He’s met with a laugh, and for a moment, the world ceases to exist. Or perhaps he does.
He’s told that the power, blue and glowing, exploded outwards, knocking over several. That Buffy got up, no longer the helpless maiden, and began fighting Spike with no quip on her tongue, just a solemn ruthlessness. He’s told that the zanpukto disappeared from his heart, fragmenting and melting into air as if it had never been. That the clothes he wore were still torn, still blood-tattered, but the wound had closed up as if nothing had happened.
He’s told this, because he was aware of none of it.
The first thing he remembers is floating down and touching the ground lightly with sandal-clad feet. A sword’s at his side, and it’s not the bamboo hilt of Nanashi’s zanpukto. It’s an unusual longsword, that much he can tell at a mere glance. The leather of the hilt’s been treated, blackened, but some sort of silver zig-zag pattern crosses it. There’s no real guard, just an extension of the sword blade…
“Stop admiring your new accessory and help out!” Buffy yells at him, and he stands for a moment confused, before grinning. Her voice is trembling, yes, but she’s quipping again, and he’s alive, so they don’t have to mourn him, and that’s of the good.
He pulls out the sword, and it’s patterned. It reminds him of Africa, which isn’t good, because…
He can feel something laugh, delighted that he’s about to fight, and he holds back for a second too long. Spike’s eyes widen, and with no preamble he jumps onto a window and out.
Xander tries to follow, but ends up coughing blood instead, falling. It reminds him of one of Nanashi’s memories, but he can’t find it, not now.
“Are you all right?!” Buffy asks, trying not to raise her voice, and runs to his side.
He takes stock, cautiously prodding his own reiatsu, and is forced to conclude, “I’m fine, Buffy. Apparently I just still had some blood in my system. In places it shouldn’t be, I mean. And I’m exhausted, but that makes sense. Where’s Willow?”
Buffy nearly panics, but then puts the pieces together. “She was a ghost. She’s probably back to wherever her body had been.”
“Oh. Right.” He tries, for a moment, to flash step, before nearly falling again. There’s no more blood, no more pain, just exhaustion, and if he pushes his spirit power too much more, he’s not going to be able to walk, let alone use shunpo.
“You thought you were going to leave me behind?” Buffy motions for the kids to follow them, and none of them are in the mood to argue, too shocked to complain or cry. She reaches out and hits his arm, and it hurts…but, interestingly enough, not as much as before. She still doesn’t know her own strength. “Don’t scare me like that.”
“Sorry. It wasn’t planned, trust me.” Even after this, he’s smiling.
“I’d hope not. Just in case, though, you should probably have Giles take a look at you.” She tries to hide the worry in her face, and only partially succeeds. He loves her, though, so he’s not going to mention it. “Will that be okay with your parents?”
“Only if they notice I’m not there,” he answers tiredly, light tone lost a little in the exhaustion.
The hug’s the only thing keeping him on his feet.
