Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Feels, worry, injuries, tiredness, fluff. Lack of proofing.
A/N: Thanks to all of you who have wanted tags, reblogged, commented, and liked <3 I’m very happy that you’ve stuck with this story all the way to the end. Thank you!
26. Warm heart
... Konro ...
The news of [Y/N] and Beni’s return (including the woman’s condition) had spread like wildfire among the residents of Asakusa and particularly the older women had taken it upon themselves to lighten the workload of Company Seven by providing hot meals – sent over by wide-eyed grandchildren who looked too dejected for Konro to bear when he tried to say none of this was necessary because in spite of what the neighbourhood seemed to think, everything had returned to some semblance of normal within a day.
“Time for bed, girls,” Konro begins to usher Hinata and Hikage out of the kitchen.
None of them look up from the drawings they’re working on (one depicting a demonic infernal washing the floor). “No,” they agree in creepy unison, “we’re strong independent women who don’t need a man to tell us what to do.”
...what? He doesn’t have to ask where they would have heard something like that: just this morning [Y/N] had said something along those lines to Benimaru when he tried to order her back to her sick bed. If only I’d known better. Konro had chuckled, telling his old friend to give up on the protectiveness, for now at least.
Staring down at the twins, the scarred man crosses his arm calmly. “Try again.”
Seconds later, papers float in the air as Hinata and Hikage have changed their minds and are sprinting off to get ready for bed.
... Reader ...
Ow. Ooow. Eeek. Ow. Ouch.
Limping past Benimaru’s office, you’re thankful the door is closed as you don’t need him to see how you’re gritting your teeth in pain. Maybe he had a point this morning...ow.
He had caught you leaving your room – your destination being the kitchen where Konro was busy serving breakfast for everyone present at the Special Fire Force Company Seven’s headquarters – and promptly ordered your back to bed, completely ignorant of the fact that you’d spent a full day there already and you were bored out of your mind. Opinions had been...exchanged before he let you do what you wanted for the rest of the day.
And now I’m paying the price. Every body part is screaming in protest at the mere idea of moving, littered with bruises and swells, and you’re fairly sure you’ve pulled a few of the stitches on your thigh. Just a bit more. Down the hall and around the corner, then you can collapse onto the futon and get the weight off your swollen ankle.
“Have I ever told you, you’re stubborn?” Beni’s bored voice stops any progress.
Fuck. “Once or twice,” you grit out, refusing to turn to see him standing there, probably arms crossed and leaning against the doorpost, “I take it as a compliment.”
“Figures.” There’s a huff and then you can feel him right behind you. “[Y/N]...” lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispers, “please...you don’t have to do everything alone and I know how strong you are. Let me he-...let me be of use.”
Oh, it’s tempting. You remember parts of the trip back from the Nether and how it had felt to be pressed against his warm body, nuzzling against the crook of his neck to inhale the mixed scents of coals, cedar, and light sweat. It had made it bearable whenever unconsciousness shifted and you were brought back to the pain.
Now Benimaru’s arms snake around your waist and under your knees and you realize you’ve said yes without meaning to, allowing him to lift and hold you against him once more. He tries to move carefully, reducing the jostle as much as he can even as he lays you down.
“[Y/N]...the wound...” The frown on his face could be either worry or exasperation as he shows off the blood that’s seeped through your trousers and onto his shirt.
“Sorry?”
Somehow, he accepts not getting a hold of the doctor. “I’ll...I’ll get what we need to rebandage it while you...” He motions to the bloody clothes, a pink tinge rising to the tip of his ears before he hurries out of the room.
It’s easier said than done and you’ve only managed to wriggle your butt out of the pants by the time he returns with cloths, bandages and hot water. Eyeing the lack of progress, Benimaru wordlessly asks for permission to help with the rest (leaving you in underwear and an oversized t-shirt) which he is granted – you’re too exhausted to keep up the hopeless charade of independence, preferring to be cared for. By him, specifically.
The large hands work meticulously, gently shifting off the layers of the soaked bandages while you lie back to watch in wonder. His shock of black hair can’t obscure the frown or the way he pulls his lips tight when the cloth sticks to the wound and you bite back a hiss of pain. He cradles your thigh with a subtle grasp as he begins to dab away the mess and turning the damp cloths continuously lighter shades of pink until everything finally is clean again.
“You’re luckier than you deserve,” Benimaru grumbles, “stitches are holding. It’s just been seeping from underneath.”
Pushing yourself up by the elbows, you can see he’s right and that a new bruise has formed around the wound. Okay...I’ll have to take it easy a few days more. “Fine...maybe you were right.”
“Maybe? Trust me, by the time it’s wrapped up, you’ll know I’m right.”
It’s obvious that’s he’s taking care, trying to shuffle your leg as little as possible and such, but the bandage has to stay in place and so he can’t let it be too loose. Sure, after the first layers of foamy material directly on the wound, the shifting pressure isn’t quite as bad...but it’s bad enough. Your nails are digging into your palms, teeth into lip, and tears are pouring down your cheeks even if you aren’t making a sound by the time Benimaru is done and has lifted your ankle up by placing a stack of pillows under the calf and foot.
“I’m sorry,” he hushes you, spreading the covers over you, “I really tried to be careful.”
“Mhmm.” You don’t trust your voice to say anything else, but lift the covers aside for him to join you. “Please?”
Something deep and warm moves in those mix-matched eyes of his as you studies your face. Then he discards everything but his boxers and lies down on his side, facing you. The touch of his fingertips is barely there as he wipes away the tracks of the tears.
“I know...I won’t always be able to prevent you from hurting...but I wish I could, babe,” he whispers.
Of course he can’t. It doesn’t matter though, you decide, as long as he’ll be there to help you afterwards and you tell him as much, words mumbled against his lips before losing yourself in a slow kiss.
You are both out of breath when he breaks away.
“I’m not letting you leave bed tomorrow except for the absolute minimum!” Beni vows.
“I could be convinced if you come and cuddle up with me sometimes.”
Raising an eyebrow at the weak smirk you grant him, he seems to consider the idea for a few seconds before smiling: “Fine. I can accept that.”
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Angst, feels, danger, stubbornness. The usual.
A/N: Manage to get myself pretty confused because it said I’d already posted 25 chapters on AO3 but here on Tumblr it only claimed 24...aaaand then I remembered posting the what-if directly in the story there but not here...so yeah! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
25. Forged by fire
... Reader ...
Your brain is protesting as you wake up. No, scratch that. Your entire body is throbbing as you’re being jostled by each step of the one carrying. Benimaru. The scent and heat can only be his but it’s comforting to open the eyes and see the shock of dark hair flopping about, occasionally blocking the view of his right cheek bone. Somehow, probably with the help of Joker, you’ve been tied together, allowing your arms to hang limply over his shoulders while he supports your by wrapping his arms around your thighs. It’s not comfortable but it’s efficient.
“Wait,” Joker hisses from up ahead.
There’s very little light – barely enough to illuminate the obstacles littering the crumbled hallway – and you can’t see what has alerted the gangly man, but you feel the uncrowned king of Asakusa tense beneath you, his lungs slowly expanding as he takes in the surroundings.
“Hm. I smell it.”
Smell? Sniffing the air, you don’t pick up on anything much at first apart from Benimaru, dust; and your own need for a bath.
“Don’t worry, [Y/N], just stay calm.” He must have felt you stirring.
Nothing snappy comes to mind and it doesn’t matter because that’s when you realize that a curl of sulphurous stench is mingling with the air.
“Let me down.”
“You can’t stand on that leg,” he argues as Joker steps closer.
Already fumbling with the sash holding the two of you together, the idea of supporting the weight seems like a horrible idea. “It wasn’t an invitation to a discussion, Beni,” you growl, “I’ll hold you back if you carry me.”
“I’m not leaving you behind!” Stubbornly digging the fingers into your thighs, he’s probably stubborn enough to stick to the word.
Finally free of the restraints, you tug at his hair. “I’m only telling you to put me down for now.”
There are whispers now, low murmuring groans coming from both directions as if carried on the fumes. The lightest dust and ashes are starting to dance on the ground in spiralling patterns that clash and divide in mesmerizing patterns. They could have been fascinating to watch if it wasn’t for the temperature slowly rising.
“Do as she says, Shinmon,” Joker drawls, his eye fixed at a warm glow that has appeared in the distance.
Begrudgingly, the man sets you on the ground, careful to let you gain the balance on your good leg before letting go. It’s obvious on his face: one wrong move and he’ll sweep you off your feet. I’m so gonna use this to my benefit once we’re home. You decide to ignore the nagging sense of doubt and instead focus on the growing lights in either direction of the tunnel.
What at first was nothing more than a glow has now, beyond a doubt, taken shape of several flickering fires moving towards the same cluster of targets. Misshapen bodies cast their stretching shadows beneath the flames, obscuring dozens of shuffling feet as the pace begins to pick up. They know you’re there. They are hungry.
Glancing at the men, the darkness before them is illuminated in red and purple and the air around them is shimmering with heat.
“Let them get close.”
“Guess you’re too exhausted to think clearly, dear,” Joker chuckles but then hesitates as he sees your face, “...okay. Call it.”
... Joker ...
Smiling behind the collar, Joker recognizes the worry flashing across the other man’s face. It’s a bold plan and he isn’t sure it’s strictly necessary...but they can’t be sure what else they’ll be facing on their way out, so [Y/N]’s idea of preserving the would-be rescuers’ power for later makes sense.
“Lighten up...or not, actually,” he smiles wickedly at Shinmon, “let’s see what our girl can do, eh?”
The glare he receives from the captain is a logical response.
“[Y/N]...there’s no reason to push yourse-”
“I didn’t survive this shit just to be rescued like some fairy tale maiden.” The threatening purr combined with the half-dried blood makes her seem tantalizingly dangerous. “There’s no one to take out my revenge on, but at least I can clean up the mess I’ve made when I let the lab blow up too.”
Oh? That must be an interesting story...for later. Finding an adequate slab of broken concrete, he brushes it off and sits down. In one of the inner pockets of the coat is a pack wrapped in cellophane and he picks a cigarette from it, lighting it with a flick of his fingers. Aaah. The acrid taste fills him for a handful of seconds before it’s blown out through his nostrils together with the last hours’ worth of stress – he could almost chill for a moment if it wasn’t for Benimaru joining him by the boulder, sitting as relaxed as a statue about to crack.
“Has anyone ever told you t-”
“Shut up, Joker.”
The men relapse into silence. It’s not that the man with the hat doesn’t understand Benimaru’s sentiment: the girl’s in horrible condition and is using almost all her strength to stand, it seems. The white-clad ran from her. The image of a dying man clutching a bundle of hastily written notes is still clear in Joker’s mind. Abandoned a comrade together with a demon infernal...he didn’t think they could end it. It’s clear, though, that something did put it to rest, most likely causing the explosion at the same time. Show us what you’ve got, [Y/N).
... Benimaru ...
Like lit matches, only their heads are burning as they rush forward. At first surging for whomever is nearest until a clear shout orders them to ignore the men.
“I am what you want!”
The way the infernals all zero in on [Y/N] it really looks like she’s right and as they swarm around, pushing closer but never able to touch her, he can barely see her until he stand up on the slab of concrete.
Eye glowing bright yellow even against the infernals’ blaze, she doesn’t flinch as charred fingers scrape against the air, trying to reach her. She stands, immovable, talking calmly as if they could understand her. Maybe they can. Yes, they absolutely can and some must be accepting what she says because they stop and wait without a sound. Wait for what? A few infernals continue their struggle only to be wrapped in the arms of those standing by until finally, none of them are moving more than their dead faces.
There’s a shift in the air as [Y/N] spreads her arms, smoke and heat pushed outwards by an unseen pressure and stilling the flames of the damned.
“I’m sorry,” the woman whispers a second before tugging her fists tightly to the chest and plunging the Nether in darkness once more.
Benimaru can hear the muted sounds of clothing landing in heaps on the ground, the impact softened by dust and ashes, but the room is obscured by dark flakes filling the air to the extend that the glow from Joker’s cigarette nor the captain’s excellent vision can guarantee a view of the woman they came here for.
“Impressive,” the smoking man comments, snapping a fiery playing card out of nowhere to illuminate the space.
No one is listening to the compliment. The captain of Special Fire Force Company Seven is reaching out for the swaying figure of the woman he loves, barely making it over the heap of sooty jumpsuits in time to catch her as she collapses one more time.
“[Y/N]!” he croaks, frantically feeling for a pulse.
Eyelashes flutter for a brief second before she scrunches her face to look up at him. “Yeah yeah...I’ll let you carry me this time too.”
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Lack of proper terms for clothes (I think). Fluff. Feels. Lots of angst.
A/N: Here ya go, darlings! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
24. From the ashes
… Reader …
Something hard and jagged prevents you from resting. It’s digging into your thigh and what first was pure numbness is growing into an unyielding pain. Finally admitting defeat, you open your eyes to see what’s causing the offending sensation, but it’s forgotten the moment you notice the shimmery light.
At first, it seems to be far away and only the visible simple due to the magnitude. But then you blink. Woah. Funky. In reality, the glow is from a small beetle which seems oddly familiar about a hand from your nose.
And then everything comes roaring back, filling your brain with images that you wish only belonged in nightmares rather than memories. People, children and adults alike, swallowed by flames that twist their skulls and stretch their limbs; the echoing shrieks twisting from pain to despair to hunger. Somewhere in between it all, there’s an intermezzo where fire fills everything, blocking out any other sensation than fear.
A fear that’s still roiling in your guts and clawing its way up your throat until only a fraction of it lands on the beetle that’s waving its antennae towards you. It clicks as if offended (though more likely disgusted) and tries to free the legs one by one to get away.
If it escapes...
Benimaru (and others) have called you stubborn. You’ve learned not to give up because giving up meant allowing yourself to get caught and you weren’t naïve enough to think that the only punishment for that was to see your parents’ faces and sorrow over the little sister you had lost. No. It would’ve meant landing yourself in this exact situation – even if it was nothing but a fearful conspiracy at first.
Now, you know better and realize that the stubbornness has changed.
Now, you twist on the jagged ground, pulling yourself forward by hands and elbows to drag your leg free from a slab of concrete. The dead weight threatens to hold your hostage, squeezing onto your foot with cruel determination. It would be easy to give in to it – to lie down and claim the rest your body is screaming for – but the beetle is moving faster than you are, having spent the time wisely while you fought with gravity, mass, and your own mind.
It can’t be called a scream, the sound that begins deep in your chest and works its way up and out as the strain of muscles constrict around your lungs. You don’t feel the way the nails scrape and break against the sooty floor, just like the muted pop from a strained joint goes ignored save for the tears of relief the moment the ruins let go.
The thud of your palm slamming down doesn’t conceal the satisfying crunch of an exoskeleton being crushed. Shards of concrete dig into your skin and you’ve never welcomed them as much as now.
“Got you, fucker,” you swear, voice hoarse but seething with a new sensation: revenge.
One down. Time to find the rest.
... Joker ...
There’s no reason to talk. Not yet, at least. All the men can do for now is to search through the rubble methodically, each covering a half of the space ahead of them while pretending that the odds aren’t stacked against them. He must have realized. But even the lanky man doesn’t have it in him to give up yet, wishing instead to extend the blind hope for just a bit longer. She’s stronger than we give her credit for, but...
“[Y/N]!” Benimaru’s deep voice fills the darkness, briefly fooling his friend in need to think the search is over. “[Y/N]! [Y/N]!” the captain yells, a crackle of desperation breaking through.
Dust and small debris falls from the ceiling as if startled by the sound. It’s a miracle the place hasn’t caved in already and Joker’s about to shut up the normally quiet man when he hears it. Or...? No...it must’ve been an echo.
But then it’s there again: something more akin to a cough has come from the farthest side of the new cavern.
“-maru?”
As if they had planned it, the men each let lose a roaring blaze, licking against the uneven surface above and cast deep, jagged shadows that dance in the white-hot air. Dust is fanned by the invisible wave, split into streams as obstacles loom in the path only to be caught against nothing a few feet from a mess of a woman.
Arm raised as if holding a shield, [Y/N] is leaning against the remains of a wall. Apparently she’s just clambered over it, but how she has managed is a mystery. She’s barely standing! Swaying dangerously, blood seeping from the nose and countless cuts and scrapes, not even the dirt and bruises can hide the fact that the usual lustre of her skin is gone. The only parts of the woman that seems somewhat alive are her eyes glow with a deep crimson a few seconds longer before that too disappears with a blink.
Not a blink.
Benimaru moves faster than Joker can think, suddenly skidding to a halt right before the supposed damsel in distress, catching her effortlessly as her legs give out and she tumbles towards the ground.
... Benimaru ...
“I’ve got you,” he whispers.
It’s impossible to tell if [Y/N] has heard him, her body limp against the captain’s. There’s no time to worry about decency as Benimaru quickly inspects her for serious injuries – a task that’s all too easy, though, as the once-faded-now-flambéed jumpsuit has been torn to the extend that it barely can hold on to her frame. Finding nothing too obvious (health wise), Benimaru shrugs off the dark-blue kimono shirt to wrap around her.
“We’re gonna get you out of here.”
A slow groan precedes the answer. “Wh- not yet...” [Y/N] can barely keep her eyes open. “Imma k-ki-ick their...asses.”
It’s Joker’s startled laugh that breaks the silence, earning him a confused frown from the dazed woman until he explains. “There’s no one left here.”
“He’s right, [Y/N],” Benimaru agrees, suddenly reconsidering what might have caused all the destruction, “so let’s get you fit for fight before round two.” His entire world consists of this woman as she looks up at him with a tiny smile, asking if they’re going home. “Haï. Home to Konro and the twins. Home to Asakusa.”
“Just give...give me five minutes to rest,” she demands, eliciting a new laugh, “then I’ll be on my feet.”
Not with that leg, you won’t. “Will you let me carry you until you’re okay to walk?” It’s the closest he can get to arguing with her stubbornness right now. “It’d be good to get out of here before the whole thing collapses.”
The chagrin is obvious in her face although it’s softened by fatigue. “Fine.”
With a bit of help from Joker, [Y/N] gets settled for a piggyback ride, her chin resting on her would-have-been rescuer’s shoulder with a content sigh.
“For the record,” she mumbles as the last of her energy has been used, “you don’t have to knock me out this time.”
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Angst.
A/N: Hugs? Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
20. Arson
... Reader ...
For the first time in your life, the idea of having ended up in the claws of Haijima seems preferable compared to whatever this madness is. It’s a nightmare. Just a nightmare. I’ll wake up in just a moment. You know you’re not but it’s the only comfort that’s keeping your from screaming out in fear at the scenery the girl has marched you through.
The hallway had been grim enough. What followed was worse: you supposed it’s a laboratory considering the oddly glowing wires and lights, and instruments that you haven’t got the faintest clue what are for. There was a row of containers with bugs on a table by the wall on one side while vials and beakers filled with concoctions (some bubbling above blue flames) were littering the workspace in the middle of the room. You were fleetingly glad that the girls controlling your body allowed you to march straight to the door at the other end of the room.
I should’ve known better.
Now, you can’t move at all even if the giggling puppeteers has relinquished control of your limbs. Strapped down tightly with chains and manacles, it’s impossible to do more than wiggle your toes. Well...you can move your eyes but you’re not sure you dare to.
Before you stands the dis-proportioned figure of Dr. Giovanni. The tall hat’s brim and his collar are cradling darkness behind the freaky mask – you can’t see his face, but you’re sure his smiling.
“Isn’t this better, hmm?” His voice crackles despite minimal intonation, “waiting...on the precipice to your destiny!”
“Mmrmmmglllm!” Shut the fuck up!
He gets the gist even with the gag impeding your speech. “Now, my dear, there’s no need to be so angry. I’m merely going to help you seize the power waiting for you. Wait and see.”
Giovanni strides over and opens a door and in comes yet another person dressed in white with a red cross. This one is big and muscly and his face is hidden behind a shroud but to be honest you’re paying more attention to what he’s dragging along: a girl, maybe ten years old, is trotting behind (her upper arm is engulfed by the man’s fist). Dressed in the same type of clothes as you and barefoot...that’s where the likeness ends because she’s dirty, skinny, her hair is a mop of matted strands managing to shield most of the face but not hiding the dried-up streaks from tears and snot.
“There’s good.” You’re only vaguely aware that Giovanni had gone to the lab and come back before hearing his order.
The muscle man parks the child in the appointed spot in front of you and then steps behind you. Out of sight. You want the girl to run, to show some sign of desire to get out of this hellhole...but her eyes are unseeing and she simply stands with a hanging head.
“[Y/N],” Giovanni’s voice crackles with delight, “let me show you what I’ve been working on.”
... Benimaru ...
“No,” Benimaru easily shuts down the conversation, “you’re not coming with me.”
He knows Konro wants to protest – his oldest friend might even go behind his back somehow in an effort to be of help – but there’s no doubt in the captain’s heart. No one else. Information is scant about the Netherworld and the White-Clad who seem to cherish the relics of a burned world, so going there won’t be a stroll in the park. While Benimaru is confident in his own powers (sometimes looking for a challenge, actually), he doesn’t know what waits underground and can’t guarantee the safety of others.
Pausing at the heavy cloth marking the entrance/exit of the fire station, Benimaru looks back briefly at his friend. “Keep Asakusa safe.”
...
The only person who might be willing to share any information of use is Joker. Of course, he’s not the kind of guy that’s easily found when he doesn’t want to be, but somehow it makes sense to see the slender figure waiting in the dark. Only the pulsing glow of his cigarette is occasionally enough to illuminate the man’s maniacal grin as Benimaru jumps off the matoï.
“You remembered, good,” Joker greets him.
Remembered what? Scratching his head, the captain walks over to the wall of metal and concrete that’s blocking the way below ground. Judging by partially overgrown grooves along the edges, it must be supposed to open outwards, but there’s no handle or lock and there are patches of rust wherever water has had a chance to linger.
“Netherworld...nether means below, so I figured this was an easy place to start,” he shrugs and bangs on the gate.
There’s a faint sound of echoing from the other side but, naturally, nothing else happens.
Even if that were true, it won’t stop them and moments later they’ve found the old mechanism, freed it of vines and an abandoned birds’ nest, and activated it. The door clanks ominously and manages to grind far enough along the groove before it stops that the men can enter.
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shōbōtai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Reference to death. Definitely Probably some angst . Lack of proofing.
A/N: Here ya go, darlings! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
23. From dust, to dust
... Benimaru ...
“You believe it?” Joker doesn’t look up from where he’s hunched over the now still figure.
I don’t want to. It’s an argument that’s hard to counter the more Benimaru scans the scribbled document. It’s making his hands shake and the edges of his vision turn red. Mostly, it makes him regret that the white-clad man died of the injury he already had sustained rather than granting the captain a proper revenge.
“It wouldn’t change what has happened,” the lanky would-be rescuer interrupts a steadily darkening train of thoughts as if he knows what the other is thinking, “let’s keep going.”
The friction of teeth grinding is jarring to Benimaru’s inner ear. “Let’s.”
The papers in his fist smoke, the feathery cloud mixing with the dust in the air for no more than a few seconds before igniting with a silent phwoomp. Oops? Someone more sensible (Konro, maybe) would have chosen to preserve them as evidence, but Konro isn’t there and a hopelessly naive side of Benimaru is discreetly urging him to destroy any recount of what these white-clad have been doing as if that could delete the actions too.
Continuing in silence, the men have to be increasingly carefully as walls have been blasted away and the ceiling threatens to cave in the closer to the epicentre they get. Small mounds of ashes and burned clothes dot the way in random intervals – they all look to have been made of a rough material that once might have been a sort of grey...and some are too small for adults.
Benimaru has counted six by the time they reach their destination.
According to the guy they had interrogated, the heart of the cavernous darkness ahead used to be a room of roughly 25 square meters but expanded considerably due to the explosion that had sent heatwaves throughout the subterranean network of tunnels and chambers.
“Still no sign of his comrade,” the drowsy voice of Joker points out.
Maybe the guy we met wasn’t the only one to run. “Well...if Giovanni already had left, why’d one man stay behind and face an infernal alone?”
It’s a rhetorical question which the lanky man decides to ponder. Knowing already that Joker will say what he likes regardless of any protests, the captain of company seven shifts some pieces of rubble to ensure nothing (or rather: no one) is beneath it.
“It was the strongest he’d ever seen, right?” That’s exactly what the white-clad had claimed before expiring. “They can’t have realized that was a risk or Giovanni wouldn’t have told them to continue with the experiments.”
Whichever reason the twisted “doctor” must have had for leaving, the duo haven’t gotten a proper explanation and the risk of Giovanni and maybe more of his fellow nut-jobs returning makes the hairs on Benimaru stand on end.
“Doesn’t matter now,” he growls, “we came here for one reason only.” With that, he clambers over a chunk of ceiling in the hopes of finding [Y/N].
... Reader ...
Your body is heavier than lead. Lying still, the only thoughts running through your mind are simple observations related to the physical inputs. The layer of dust settling on your face and getting caught in the eyelashes is soft, blowing into the air if you exhale harder and renewing the smell of concrete and dirt. You’re also vaguely aware that you’re sprawled out across something hard, but it doesn’t really matter much now that the pain has numbed your body – as long as you don’t move, it’ll be fine and you might eventually get some rest.
Yes...a nap, you try to look away from the distant light, I should just close my eyes. Sleep.
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Angst, death, loads of bad things including lack of proofing.
A/N: I know I should feel bad for this, but I don’t. Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
21. Ignite
... Reader ...
You’re not sure what you had expected and still you’re taken by surprise at the devastation a single insect causes.
Spreading from the impact spot on the girl’s chest, flames spring up and engulf the small figure, making the skin crackle and clothes melt. The worst part is the scream: the high pitched wail has turned into whimpers but even that is changing as you watch in horror. It’s becoming guttural. Gravelly.
“What a shame,” Giovanni’s voice tuts from somewhere behind you, “I always hope it’s the one. Always wish for the spark.”
Always...how many? “You’re insane.”
“It’s science,” he dismisses you.
Flesh seethes and bubbles, the stench quickly filling the room together with the heat of the flames, and you know it won’t be long now. When an infernal is fully formed (their previous life reduced to charcoal and blackened bones) the hunger sets in. Already, the girl’s shape is falling into the posture of a mad and starving animal trying to smell out its prey...and you’re first in line.
“Let me go.” You hate the tremor in your voice as you try to appeal to Giovanni’s kinder side. Does he have any? “Let my hands free at least!”
Eye sockets filled with fire zero in on your struggling shape and a wicked grin splits the blackened skull. Here she comes. The infernal’s first words are barely audible above the roaring flames, but you know what they are anyways because they always are the same – infernals are hungry for souls, for craving the heat of fire while still hating the pain as the last of their consciousness roasts forever.
You know, she can’t burn you. Compared to anyone else who might have been in this situation, you’re actually kind of safe...or you would have been if the fact that the flames won’t touch you is exactly what has gotten you into this mess in the first place. That and the fact that I can’t shut up and keep my head down, you berate yourself.
A skeletal hand reaches out, and you instantly recoil. “No! Don’t touch me!” It pauses as if considering your words and the fear powers you on. “The one behind me, take him...please. Not me, take him instead.“ Tears barely make it onto your cheeks before they evaporate from the blazing heat and you can’t keep your eyes open any longer as it prickles and burns. “Don’t touch me...”
The light shifts together with the scorching air, passing beside you and leaving the front of your body suddenly shivering at the change in temperature.
“Interesting,” the mad doctor comments.
There’s a muted crunch, then the flickering light dies together with the last of an innocent girl.
... Benimaru ...
Dark and damp, the Nether seems to exist in a different world altogether. The sounds of rats scurrying out of the way can be heard sometimes, but mostly it’s just the footsteps of the two men making their way along tracks that haven’t seen activity for centuries, maybe.
Once, they’d gotten to an area where stairs led upwards only to be blocked by rubble. Another time, they’d to edge past an abandoned vehicle, the stretched shape askew on the rails and the seats behind the dusty windows offering room for nothing but shadows and a hint of the old world.
That was hours ago.
“You don’t know where we’re going,” Benimaru drawls, “do you?”
Joker shuffles an unlit cigarette to the other corner of the mouth. “Never said I knew exactly where she’d be.”
On and on the walk, none of them saying much except when the path diverges and they must choose a direction. The captain hates it. Sure, Konro often tries to teach him to think first and act later, but there is nothing to consider here except making sure to be able to find the way out again – a task that’s ensured by stacking rubble every 200 meter.
Maybe we should’ve taken the left back there? It’s easy to second-guess everything down here where the cold slowly tries to seep into their bones. Benimaru doesn’t care about the subterranean climate: as long as he hasn’t reached his goal, nothing else matters. It appears Joker is of the same opinion. What does he want from her?
“Wait...” the man in questions pauses, slowly picking the cigarette from between the lips, “do you feel that?”
Benimaru has already figured out that his “friend’s” senses are sharp despite the dopey mannerisms, so he stops as well and tries to sharpen his senses. The thick soles of his boots doesn’t allow him to feel if there are vibrations, but not even the lightest pebbles shift in their spots – only a cobweb waves silently from the broken sign hanging above them. It’s moved by the faintest of breezes that also caresses Benimaru’s cheeks with a hint of warmth as it blows past, carrying the scent of dust and mould.
Wait. ”Warm air,” he gasps.
Whatever is causing it, it’s worth checking out and the men continue into the darkness.
... Reader ...
“Please...please do-do-don’t!” Your heart is beating loudly in your ears but it’s not enough to drown out the clicking noises of the beetle. “You c-can’t...please!”
But you know Giovanni not only can but also will because he’s got the beetle gripped with a pair of elongated tweezers and is steadily coming closer. He’s drawing it out, though, revelling in the panic you can’t hold back any longer as it begins to black out everything else.
“You should be proud,” his voice comes from far away, “the scientific importance of this is unparalleled! And the honour! If this works...it means you’ve been chosen to usher in the Second Cataclysm.”
“No...I don’t want...no, please don-”
You’re startled by the searing sensation as the insect lands on you and burns through the cloth of the jumpsuit. So this is how it feels. Flames have never caused you pain before and for a second, you can only think of this searing as if it’s freezing your skin, but as embers spread beneath your skin and smoke rises...Now I know what it’s like to burn.
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Suffering, but not in a bad way as such. Lots of pining and fluff. And...something else.
A/N: Totally giving up on proofing at the moment because my brain is kinda spazzing on me. Oh yeah, so I totally headcanon Konro as Ace, btw. Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
17. Explosion
… Konro …
”Just tell her already!” he groans as he slides the goya off to the side.
Konro has spent the last month watching the youngsters stealing glances and lingering in each other’s presence, and sure, it was cute and innocent at first. Now, however, it’s becoming increasingly frustrating because they each come to him with their worries.
A loud thunk is the only clue needed to warn the cook that his friend has dropped his head onto the table. “I caaaan’t,” Benimaru complains, “she thinks I’m an idiot.”
“Rather that than a coward.” Knock your head onto that table a few times more, kid, it might kick start your brain.
It’s impossible to decipher the mumbled response and Konro really doesn’t want a clarification. After all, he has already heard all of it. Why do they even come to me? Being their friend is one thing, but while Konro would go to the end of the world for them (especially for Beni) he doesn’t really have much experience on the subject of dating.
“Konrooo...” the lad tries, “maybe you could -”
“No.”
“But you don-”
“Yes, I know what you want to ask and the answer is no.” There’s no way Konro is going to be stuck as a negotiator between those two. Both are stubborn, emotional, and smitten to the point that they can’t see clearly. “But if you don’t get your ass together, then I won’t cook for you anymore.”
“You can’t do that!”
Benimaru has always viewed the other man as calm and level-headed, someone who always manages to think before acting. Where Beni can lose his temper easily, Konro never shouts or gets truly angry. But eventually, even the strongest patience can be worn down.
“Boy!” Konro whips around to face him, sharp knife clutched in his hand. “Don’t test me. Stop whining like a baby and go tell her how you feel. Now!”
Of course he feels guilty straight away, still it’s a relief to see the astounded guy stumble to his feet and hurry out the kitchen.
... Reader ...
The watchtower has become one of your favourite spots in in all of Asakusa. Up here, you can see the entire district sprawling beneath...and no one can get close without you noticing them beforehand as long as you pay attention. Which you don’t always. At least not right now.
Lying on your back with the legs stretched up against the supporting timber, your focus has strayed to a silly bird is trying to steal loose fibres from the bell’s rope, only to have to give up each time it’s found a string to pull at because the other end is impossibly stuck. The little animal is getting increasingly frustrated. Just give up...some things are meant to be. Yellow and grey feathers fluff with anger at yet another defeat until the bird surveys the remaining options. Don’t bother. As if hearing your thought, it flutters off with an undignified squeak and you watch it disappear between the houses below.
“So this’s where you hide.”
The deep voice causes you to squeak and you scramble to face the one person you’d been trying to avoid by climbing up here in the first place.
“Shinmon.” Why does he have to look so good when the wind tussles his hair? “What...I’m not hiding.”
On your feet, you wish you were tall enough to look down at him to feel superior. Benimaru is always acting aloof, never letting anyone see what he’s thinking...unless everything really does bore him. Or annoy him. This time you notice a faint pull of his lips.
“Hiding or not...we need to talk,” he sighs.
What’ve I done now? Something has changed the day of the raid.
You’ve been feeling it in the silences...or maybe it’s all in your mind. Maybe there really isn’t something brewing in Benimaru’s eyes when he backs off from challenges he’d have picked up on before. Or could it be that Konro’s calm finally have rubbed off on the guy? He barely talks to you, and half the time he begins a conversation it dissolves into nothing and he leaves but only after lingering at the very end before leaving the room. The whole thing has been pissing you off.
“So....talk,” you challenge. As expected, he keeps quiet preferring to lean against the railing rather than face you. “Well, if you won’t then I will!” And don’t you dare look at me while I give you a piece of my mind. “Obviously, it’s brought a lot of complications from the day I’ve stayed here. No, it wasn’t entirely voluntarily from my side to begin with...staying here, I mean,” you begin to falter as you have to search for the words but try to pull yourself together, “and you made it very clear that it wasn’t out of consideration for my needs, which I suppose is fair enough but take your petty grievances out on someone else than me when you regret that decision or have the decency t-”
“I don’t regret it, damnit!” Suddenly, he’s backed you against the beam, arms caging you in as he leans over you. “What bothers me is not you staying with us but the idea of you being gone!”
Logically, you know the life down on the streets still is bustling with all the usual noises and smells, but Benimaru and you are suddenly isolated in a little bubble up under the sky and time is standing still there.
“...gone?”
“Dunno when it started or why it took me so long but I realized that day...” He licks his lips quickly. “O-bāchan...of course she had to meddle and she can be impossible to deny. She knew what she was doing when she came to get you, trust me.”
“I thought I knew that she knew but now I think what she knew was something else than I thought...”
That sentence had made a lot more sense in your brain.
“The point is -” and you could have sworn the man was blushing now -“I want you to stay because I...I really like you.”
Then why are you being such an a-oooh! His gaze has never been so tender. His hand is warm and gentle as it cradles your cheek and you can’t help but lean into it. The two of you have touched before when sparring, but to slowly let your hands wander up his chest before snaking behind his neck – it sends goosebumps racing all the way to your toes. Your breath won’t go any deeper than the top half of your lungs, but it doesn’t matter as long as Benimaru’s lips are neari-
The booming sound of an explosion might be distant but both of you turn to see where it comes from.
Fandom: Enn Enn no Shouboutai / Fire Force.
Pairing: Shinmon Benimaru x fem!reader.
Content: Confusion and dealing with it. A visitor. Lack of proofing :(
A/N: I’ve started my new job! YAY! Feel free to ASK (or reblog) for tag – in fact: always reblog. Thanks to those who have already <3
12. Kindling
... Benimaru ...
It is impossible to get the image out of his head of [Y/N] sitting on the bench in the shade of the tree, the breeze teasing the fabric so the wing-like sleeves lift gently. The glow in her eyes had been curious. Friendly. The complete opposite of the glare she tends to send him whenever he enter a room an inevitable disturbs the camaraderie she has acquired with Konro. Some of the men have even been treated to her laughter when they hang out at the firehouse, recounting the old stories (mostly exaggerated) and jokes in between their duties.
Naturally, none of this bothers Benimaru. Nope. It’s particularly not vexing when the woman decides to join the men in their workout sessions where everyone can see the sweat building on her limbs and chest because she’s dressed down to shorts and a tank top. As the sun beats down on the group on the little courtyard and someone cracks a dirty joke, the captain absolutely does not notice the carelessness in [Y/N]’s movements as she swats the guy with a smile.
“You might have to make a move,” Konro mumbles in passing, causing his friend to freeze, “or one of the guys might try their luck.”
Benimaru scoffs as nonchalantly as he knows to.
“Hey, waka!” one of the guys hollers, “you just gonna stand there?”
No one but Benimaru notices the eye-roll from the guest, but they do hear the biting comment. “I thought he was all talk and no bite.”
“Ooh!” Out of nowhere, the twins have appeared and begin to egg on the guys as they tease both [Y/N] and their involuntary leader in the hopes of a match.
... Reader ...
There is only one rule: make the other give up. Squaring off in front of Benimaru, you hope that he won’t use any of his pyrochinetic abilities, though, because he’s going to be plenty of a challenge even without. Knowing firsthand how quickly he can move (and judging by the rather perfect arms), it’s fair to expect that he knows how to fight.
You can feel his gaze take in every tiny movement you make, causing a bubbly or fluttery feeling to tickle your stomach. No distractions. Shutting out the cheers and cautionary commentary, you begin to circle the man.
There have been bigger guys. Men without any notion of friendliness and fair play who found it convenient to prey on solitary girls. Most of them were sluggish, prone to going down hard and staying down.
Benimaru? You doubt he’ll fall for something simple but as long as you can boost his ego there’s a chance he’ll underestimate you. As usual. Your first, obvious, swipe proves the theory as he sidesteps with a sigh. He even allows you close enough to land a few clumsy punches to his arms before retreating once more.
“You too chicken to fight a girl?” Your words are honoured with cheers from the present members of Company Seven but the best payout is the tick in Benimaru’s jaw as he bites back whatever snarky answer he has come up with.
Reaching further, he dives into the match without hesitation and you barely manage to dodge the fist coming at your face.
Sidestepping and blocking the blows, you bite back the pain in your arms as you wait for the opportune moment. Slide to the left. Swipe with your right wrist. Pushing his punch upwards with your left and there! There it is: the opening you’ve been waiting for! You step close and feel your knuckles dig in and up under his ribs before the abs tense and force your hand back. Smiling at the wheezing gasp, you roll out of the way before popping back onto your feet, defensive stance at the ready.
“One zero to [Y/N],” the twins announce happily.
... Benimaru ...
Perhaps he is supposed to go easy on her, seeing as she’s a woman, but even if she’s not volunteered for duty as part of the fire force, he expects [Y/N] to live up to nearly the same requirements as any man on the team. Or maybe that’s wrong? Running a hand through his hair, Benimaru reconsiders for a moment before pushing away the contradicting notions. Whichever is the right or wrong thing, he’s sure Konro will let him know the moment he crosses an invisible line, and either way: it felt good to win after that first sucker punch.
“Hey, waka,” one of the guys pokes his head into the room that constitutes an office, “someone’s here to see ya.”
Nodding, Benimaru doesn’t bother looking up from the budget spread out over the desk until he hears a polite cough.
“Captain Benimaru Shinmon,” the words flow like sticky syrup from underneath the mask, “it’s been a while.”
Creep. “My name’s Shinmon Benimaru.” The announcement is followed by an (on one side) awkward silence – very few understand and respect the old ways anymore. “What brings you here?”
Stepping forward as if invited, the long-legged man perches himself on a chair with a flourish. “I am Giovanni, captain of Company Three, and -”
“I know.”
Startled by the boredom in Benimaru’s voice, it takes a moment for Giovanni to recover. “Well...yes. Yes, then...then you must know that I am an avid scientist!” The statement doesn’t have the desired effect, it seems. “One captain to the other, we ought to share knowledge that could be vital for the fight against spontaneous human combustion, wouldn’t you agree? And as such, it’s only logical to work together in gathering information and finding new recruits suitable for the cause.”
[Y/N]. “If we had anything worth sharing, we’d make sure to do so through the correct channels.” The glasses and the mask makes it impossible to establish proper eye contact, but somewhere in there – in the darkness – a pair of beady eyes are probably watering as Benimaru stares the outsider down. “Now, unless you have anything...I’m busy.”
The butt of the cane cracks onto the floor sharply. “I refuse to leave before I get an answer.”
“To what now?”
“There are rumours of a girl, an unregistered pyrochinetic.”
Of course there are. “So?” Benimaru scoffs indignantly, “unless there’s any solid evidence...?”
The cane rotates so quick it might drill right through the wood between Giovanni’s feet, but the seconds tick by without anything else and eventually the man clicks his tongue in exasperated defeat. Getting up, he barely bothers with a word of parting – except for an “if you learn more”.
