7 Works by eiiven
Listing Works
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Grief never settled correctly. It lingered in spaces hard to reach and harder to heal, wedged in between vertebrae until it festered like an old wound.
It came and went as it pleased. Cyno considered it as an injury that would never quite heal. It reopened when everything seemed okay and sometimes refused to keep a stitch.
Death was something familiar to Cyno. Though he was a protector as much as he was a prosecutor, he wasn't shielded from such a thing. It was natural, after all.
It was the grief that came afterward that he wasn't used to.
Taj's death was something he didn't expect. With one breath to the next, his old friend was gone and Cyno was left to pick up the pieces. But when death whisked Collei away, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Grief came regardless, because it always did, and Cyno knew Tighnari would buckle under it.
After all, he was the only one who thought he could save her. But not even Tighnari could keep death at bay.
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Or: Collei died from her eleazar before they can cure it. The two who loved her have to come to terms with it.
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Cyno was all gunmetal bones and sharp wolf teeth. The Akademya made him a hero, a warrior, something to be feared—something to be respected.
Murder and mercy rolled into one boy, they said. He was destined to be a one-man army. The reputation that stemmed from that alone was a long and lonely shadow. It never cast over Tighnari.
Even when his hands were scarred from murder, when his skin was tainted with blood, Tighnari didn't see Cyno as a monster. He trusted him—perhaps more than anyone in the world.
Cyno could never hurt Tighnari. Not truly. He always knew that. They always knew that. It was why he could stare at Cyno's weapon without fear.
Even if it was pointed straight at him.
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The eerie darkness does its best to bleach the world into a grey-scale beauty, but it is thoroughly overtaken by the long-awaited light of the sun. Color, rich and vibrant, returned to the world in a wave of gold that effortlessly traveled across barren land like water.
The Citadel was cast in crimson, its subfusc white walls bathed in a rosy glow. Warmth followed suit, and henceforth banished any creature—Goblin, Iron Giant, and everything in between—that happened to survive their weaponry.
Silence blanketed the three of them. In a victory that would usually be accepted with mirth and high fives, there was nothing but gentle heaves after a long battle.
One of them was missing.
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"All living things will return to heaven some day," Zeno piped up suddenly; his voice was soft, angelic almost as it slipped from parted lips. Ironically, it was something so undeniably calm that it could subdue the most feral of beasts. If he was honest, he wasn't particularly listening to the conversation at hand. However, he often caught the word "death" circle around the fire. A term that has become rather familiar to Zeno, who, on many occasions, willingly kissed the Grim Reaper.
He could feel the eyes of his companions burn holes into him, and he tried his best not to wriggle under it. Instead, he focused on the fire that roared before his feet. A smile, perfectly crafted through years of experience, crossed his expression. In his peripheral vision, Zeno could spot the grins that reflected.
The conversation dissolved into something else, as it always did. Unfortunately, for Zeno, his mind remained. Usually, he doesn't like to dwell on such a thing as his power, but the topic bobbed on the forefront of his mind. He was aware of it; what came with the blood of Ouryuu. However, in the end, he wanted nothing to do with it. Not anymore.
I'm not human anymore, huh?
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The stars lean down to kiss you
And I lie awake and miss you
Pour me a heavy dose of atmosphere
'Cause I'll doze off safe and soundly
But I'll miss your arms around me
I'd send a postcard to you, dear
'Cause I wish you were here.But drenched in vanilla twilight
I'll sit on the front porch all night
Waist deep in thought because when
I think of you I don't feel so alone[In which, Killua falls into a pit of memories about a particular departure]
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Of His Tender Vulnerability by eiiven
Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
04 Mar 2019
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"When I lose myself,
I look for you,"[Or, one night Kirishima Eijiro finds a battered and bruised Bakugo Katsuki on his doorstep]
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Of all things, Shiro was completely unaware as to why he kept returning to Adam's makeshift grave. He was gone, no matter how many times his heart howled for his silly butterfly kisses, or the way his soft fingers caressed his forehead. Every time Shiro found himself there, it resulted in a pang of undesirable numbness. The happiness Adam had radiated was blotted between engraved marks on a metal plaque. He didn't understand why his feet yearned to stand in front of a picture that failed to properly capture his irreplaceable beauty. Even the bitterness of a certain winter night failed to keep him away.