Miyuki Kazuya, Miyuki Sr., Daiya no Ace slight body horror, angels, bodily possession, supernatural au, Miyuki Sr death (weeps forever for jimmy novak)
WC 462
Kazuya yelled at his father. What was left of his father anyway. The skin was starting to peel in various places, the man he knew was gone. The devoted man of faith and hard work wasn’t the one staring back at him. “Please! Let my father go! You’re killing him!”
The angel stared and curiously looked at the hands of the body it was in, and flexed the hands, watching as more pieces of skin flaked off. “I...I was certain that this man could host me. I guess I was wrong. This body won’t hold out much longer. I am sorry for your loss.”
Kazuyas world went silent as he scrambled off his knees and ran forward, hands fisted in the shirt on his fathers body. “Don’t you dare say that! You don’t get to promise him anything and leave him to suffer!”
The angel closed its eyes and placed a hand against Kazuya’s forehead, “Would you take his place? You are of his flesh and blood. You are young. But I must warn you. It will hurt, you will be in pain. I cannot promise you peace until this mission, or your body is done.”
Kazuya can feel the how hot his father’s hands are on his head, can feel the immense amount of Heavenly grace that’s currently surging and ripping his father’s body apart.
The soul is willing but the body is weak.
“Yes.” he doesn’t hesitate. “Give him peace. Let him be with my mother. Just.. just please, don’t let him suffer any more.”
There is suddenly a white hot pain coursing through his very core. He can feel it burning and spilling out through his eyes and mouth, through every single pore in his body. It’s intense but, manageable. He’s going a million miles a second as this heavenly creature squeezes itself into a body too small and too fragile for such a thing.
The angel is asking him to move, to stay dormant and out of the way, and that makes him bristle.
No. He thinks, pushing his way back towards consciousness. This is my body, and I’m going to see exactly what you’re doing to my body.
Kazuya can feel the way the angel moves in discomfort, the way it hesitantly allows such a request and starts to mingle and blend with his subconscious, eagerly soaking up 22 years of human love, pain, guilt, freedom.
When he opens his eyes, he’s staring at the ceiling. His vision is shitty behind useless glasses now, and he can see every bump and dip and flake of paint, and he smiles, cackles loudly and its grating to the angels ears, feeling how the presence in his mind retracts suddenly from such a sound. “Let’s go stop the Apocalypse”
FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T
slight body horror, angels, bodily possession, supernatural au, Miyuki Sr death
(weeps forever for jimmy novak)
WC 462
Kazuya yelled at his father. What was left of his father anyway.
The skin was starting to peel in various places, the man he knew was gone. The devoted man of faith and hard work wasn’t the one staring back at him. “Please! Let my father go! You’re killing him!”
The angel stared and curiously looked at the hands of the body it was in, and flexed the hands, watching as more pieces of skin flaked off. “I...I was certain that this man could host me. I guess I was wrong. This body won’t hold out much longer. I am sorry for your loss.”
Kazuyas world went silent as he scrambled off his knees and ran forward, hands fisted in the shirt on his fathers body. “Don’t you dare say that! You don’t get to promise him anything and leave him to suffer!”
The angel closed its eyes and placed a hand against Kazuya’s forehead, “Would you take his place? You are of his flesh and blood. You are young. But I must warn you. It will hurt, you will be in pain. I cannot promise you peace until this mission, or your body is done.”
Kazuya can feel the how hot his father’s hands are on his head, can feel the immense amount of Heavenly grace that’s currently surging and ripping his father’s body apart.
The soul is willing but the body is weak.
“Yes.” he doesn’t hesitate. “Give him peace. Let him be with my mother. Just.. just please, don’t let him suffer any more.”
There is suddenly a white hot pain coursing through his very core. He can feel it burning and spilling out through his eyes and mouth, through every single pore in his body. It’s intense but, manageable. He’s going a million miles a second as this heavenly creature squeezes itself into a body too small and too fragile for such a thing.
The angel is asking him to move, to stay dormant and out of the way, and that makes him bristle.
No. He thinks, pushing his way back towards consciousness. This is my body, and I’m going to see exactly what you’re doing to my body.
Kazuya can feel the way the angel moves in discomfort, the way it hesitantly allows such a request and starts to mingle and blend with his subconscious, eagerly soaking up 22 years of human love, pain, guilt, freedom.
When he opens his eyes, he’s staring at the ceiling. His vision is shitty behind useless glasses now, and he can see every bump and dip and flake of paint, and he smiles, cackles loudly and its grating to the angels ears, feeling how the presence in his mind retracts suddenly from such a sound.
“Let’s go stop the Apocalypse”