Aoko frowned, looking up from her homework, “... Not really. Why do you ask?”
Kaito shrugged, staring past Aoko at the cleaning supplies they’d neglected to put away earlier, “you’re already agile enough with any sort of long staff-like weapon, why not hone your skills?”
“Are you saying you want Aoko to improve so she can more effectively beat your ass?” She leered at him, leaning in closer, “are you into that, you weirdo?”
“I’m not saying I’m not into it.”
She shoved him from across the table. Kaito dissolved into laughter.
A little escape to left for dead AU writing featuring Bill and Ace. in which Ace is a dork with great timing.
The lighter flicked as Bill lit his last cigarette, staring at the three tanks around him. A sudden burst of memories from the entity’s realm hit him and a spark of fight reignited like the lighters flame. All too late though as the tanks began to properly charged at him.
SLAM! A startling noise greeted the soldier, reopening his eyes he couldn’t register what’d happened until music hit his ears. ‘I-I-I’m Hooked on a feeling!’ Echoed through the storehouse as a bile bomb landed on one of the tanks, leaving them attacking each other momentarily. As the sound of SMG gunfire filled the room.
Bill didn’t hesitate and began shooting as well, getting to his feet as the cheesy music played. One tank down and another two left, Bill finally got a look at who had saved him. “Ace?!” He kept shooting, Ace didn’t seem to hear over the blasting music and gunfire. Two more clips of ammo and the tanks were down.
“Bonjour, mon cher!” Ace turned the music down, dancing to it slightly as he reloaded his guns. His clothes bloodied and his face scruffier than Bill remembered.
“Ace? What the hell- How the fuck didja get here?!” Confusion riddled Bill’s old face as his cold, intent blue eyes kept on Ace.
“No idea but I’ve been fightin’ ‘round here for about a month. Figured when I finally got here ya’d be dead. So either i’m seein’ the prettiest zombie this damn place has ever produced, or I managed ta save yer ass.” Ace smirked cleaning the blood off his shades and putting them on his hat.
“Yeah- Ya damn did. No idea how ya got here yet here ya are. Lucky me.” Bill said, then re-evaluated his words. “Fuck you’re damn words are rubbin’ off on me, cut that horseshit out.” He growled lips pulling towards a smile.
“It’s the luck that rubs off really, an’ haven’t ya noticed, your little mannerisms rubbed off on me a long time ago cher~” Ace pointed out, expecting a harsh reaction, knowing full well how it was a normal human thing.
“Well.. Guess I did but it never really seemed out of the ordinary, bein’ formal all the time like ya were just seemed… unnecessary.” Bill turned his attention back to the now approaching dead, heading outside remembering that he sacrificed himself so his friends could leave.
“Eh- Wait up cher.” Ace followed turning the music off as the song ended. “What’s on your mind Bill?” Ace looked out at where Bill’s gaze was set. “Oh yeah, you said ya went back so they could leave an’ be safe.. We’ll catch up. Let’s find another way though.. That way looks less than safe.”
“Yeah. Ok. I’m with ya soldier.” Bill took a long second, still watching the horizon. It wasn’t the worst anymore. A fight that seemed winnable, finally.
Bill’s train of thought was broken as Ace grabbed Bill’s hand, moving him along. Bill kept up, not particularly pulling away. Not that he knew what to do with Ace anymore.
“Keep up cher, more headed our way.” Ace took out his SMG and began burst firing at zombies. Both fighting, keeping going until they reached a safehouse.
Aoko reflects on how different Okita is compared to everyone else in her day to day life.
Quick little short Okiko fic! 300 words of Aoko's inner monologue because I'm gonna be so real she is ALL I write HAHAHA
Fic under the cut! 🪶
“Y’know for all the complaining Kai-niichan does about ya, yer not really all that bad!”
It didn’t really surprise Aoko that Kaito complained about her, but hearing it said so bluntly did hit some sort of nerve. She breathed out slowly, staying calm in her stance, holding a bokken in front of her in two hands and swinging it in time to the drills that he’d taught her.
He laughed softly, presumably at her expression - halfway between anger and forcing herself to stay neutral. She never was good at keeping a poker face.
Okita walked behind her, examining her stance, poking her occasionally to make minor adjustments, but for the most part, he seemed pleased with the way she was carrying herself.
“Yer also learning to keep yer cool, that’s good.”
Admittedly, the fire that had immediately been stoked when he mentioned Kaito complaining about her had been softened by Okita’s laughter. Aoko was used to being reactive and angry about most things - especially when someone laughed at her expense.
When Okita laughed, however, it gave her pause. He was trying to rile her up, sure, but his laughter didn’t carry the same kind of pointed cruelty that others did.
It made new, unfamiliar feelings bubble up in her chest.
She could deal with cruelty and jabs at her - she was used to that. She was the dirty-kneed, childish daughter of the Inspector who kept failing to catch Kaitou KID. She was used to Kaito teasing her, used to being the subject of others insults about her father and her family. She used it as fuel, never letting her guard down.
She was not used to Okita.
A small smile formed on her lips as she swung her bokken, shifting her stance to take a step forward without prompting, recalling what they had practised just hours before. Her smile split into a large grin as she heard Okita hum approval from behind her.
Kaitou KID heists were always a flashy affair - explosives, flashbangs, confetti, and cards. They were always a staple for any heist; they were expected, even.
Guns, however, were not.
So when Aoko waits for Kaitou KID after a heist trying to catch him off guard, she’s not expecting to be met with a bunch of men in black trying to kill him. She’s also not expecting them to pivot their attention to her, or force-feed her a drug intended to kill her.
My Aoko Shrinkfic is HERE!! YIPPEE!! If you've seen this art from me, this is the fic I was talking about in the tags!
When Aoko got the call that her father had been shot on duty in Hakodate, she dropped everything to find a way to get to his side as soon as possible.
She hoped her mother would drop everything, too.
Happy Mothers Day LMAO Have some Aoko having a terrible bad time with her mother over the phone!
It's not the focus of the fic as a whole, because I do plan on extending this and writing more - I have a bit more planned for it but Tumblr gets this section of it early :P
Fic under the cut!
The train ride from Ekoda to Hakodate was five hours.
Aoko had been out shopping when she’d gotten the call from one of the Task Force members that her father had been shot while on a case. They had tried to call her mother but they weren’t able to get through, and his only other closest family member had been Aoko.
She’d dropped everything immediately and ran home as fast as her legs would take her. She needed to get home, she needed to figure out how to get to Hakodate, she... needed to try to get in touch with her mother.
The first thing Aoko did when she was home was gather the money for a ticket. She had some of her allowance in savings, and she had a small, extra stash for emergencies. Even then, she could only afford a one-way ticket. That was fine - she would figure out how to get home later, once her dad was okay.
The train ride from Ekoda to Hakodate was five hours.
She didn’t know how long the surgery would take.
She didn’t know if he was going to be okay.
Trying not to think about it and spiral, she gathered some things she knew she’d need in a small bag. A change of clothes, some toiletries, some of her homework she forgot to do. She didn’t know if she’d be able to focus long enough to finish it, but she thought it might be a nice distraction.
Her phone buzzed, and she looked up from what she was doing. She thought with a spark of hope that it was her mother, but it was only her alarm. Ah, right, she’d set that before she started packing to keep her on task. Her brain felt like it was full of cotton.
She stared at her phone, sinking down against the wall as she navigated to her contacts and stared at the one for her mother.
Aoko wondered if this constituted enough of an emergency for her mother to leave work. To see her husband who had just been shot twice on duty, to join her daughter in an unfamiliar city.
She forced her breathing to calm, before she dialed her mother’s number and waited. She waited, listening to the dialtone, before there was a pause, and then her mother’s familiar voice telling her to leave a message.
She hung up, and then she called again.
Then again.
Then again.
Then again.
Each time she called, she only got her mother’s chipper recorded voice telling her to leave a message.
On her sixth call, her mum finally answered.
“Aoko, what is it? I can’t speak for long, we’re just on a short break.”
Aoko froze, not actually expecting to hear her mother. She was half expecting to get caught up in an endless loop and eventually throw her phone at the wall in frustration.
She forced herself to be calm. She remembered everything Kaito ever taught her about keeping a poker face.
She took a deep breath.
“Dad was shot at work in Hakodate,” she started, proud of herself for not letting her voice shake. “He’s… He’s in surgery. Aoko is going to book tickets to go see him, do you want her to get one for you…?”
There was a small pause, before Aoko heard her mother sigh.
“I can’t. We’re at the tail end of a case, and if I leave now it’ll be postponed for another half a year.”
Aoko stayed quiet, feeling her heart sink. She blinked, forcing herself not to cry. Her mum had an important job. She couldn’t just leave. Of course, of course…
“Aoko understands.” She said quietly. “She’ll text you updates.”
She couldn’t hide the wobble in her voice. If her mother noticed it, then she didn’t say anything. Not a single word of comfort, not a single reassurance.
“Thank you, Aoko. I love you.”
Aoko felt bile rise up in the back of her throat.
“Aoko loves you too.”
She hung up the call, letting her phone drop to the floor as she covered her mouth, forcing herself to breath. The last thing she wanted to do was have to clean up a mess on the floor before she left for the station.
She let herself sit for a moment, waiting for the anxiety bubbling up inside of her to calm. Only after she was sure that she wasn’t going to throw up did she force herself to stand, and continue to get ready.
The train ride from Ekoda to Hakodate was five hours.
Despite it being months since the Sun Halo heist, Aoko has been incredibly suspicious of Kaito. So Kaito does the only thing he knows how to do: damage control. He accompanies Aoko to a non KID-related heist to get some scrutiny off of himself.
Unfortunately (mostly for Kaito), they meet someone else along the way.
Tags: Pining, Loverboy Kaito, He's head over heels but he doesn't know that, Don't Worry About, It Conan is here to cause problems, Post Detective Conan Movie 27: The Million-dollar Pentagram
Hi hello I don't write often, however I read a fic by @carry-on-my-wayward-gays and its been living rent free in my head ever since so I frantically wrote this last night as a sort of follow up!
I just have so many thoughts sjdfhjsdhfds
Also huge shoutout to @musashi for beta'ing this for me!!! :D
TW for body horror! Jimmy is a porcelain doll!
100% reccomend reading the fic above before my own!!
--------------------
The first thing Jimmy does when he wakes up is touch his face-- or-- lack thereof. As his hand brushes over where his face should be, he has to pull away suddenly, violently, as he feels the tingling phantom sensation of where his face should be.
The phantom urge to vomit bubbles back up in his chest. He takes in a deep breath - an action bathed in familiar comfort rather than necessity, as he doesn't actually need to breathe anymore - and looks around the room. From the look of the room, he was in Tumble Town, but he wasn’t entirely sure which building he was in - he normally slept under the stars in a safe little hammock. Arguably not the safest place - but it was one of his old comforts he refused to give up.
He glances to the bedside table beside him and forces himself to take another unnecessary breath. The pieces of his face are neatly laid out over a small cloth, a few empty bottles beside it. Jimmy recognises them instantly as regeneration potions. He knows from previous attempts at fixing himself that regen potions don't do anything, but he supposes the other empires - or even his own citizens - don't know that.
Jimmy isn’t really sure what’s real and what’s not when it comes to his new body, but as he thinks about the other empires, and how they probably know about what happened by now, his stomach twists and he doubles over, clutching at his abdomen uselessly. He needs his hat. He needs his bandana. He needs his wings so he can keep as much as himself hidden as possible.
He forces himself upright, ignoring how much his face is beginning to hurt him now that he is properly awake, and shifts to get out of bed, looking around the room desperately for his things, spotting an out of place looking shulker box and making a beeline towards it. Almost frantically, he digs through it, but only manages to find his bandana and his wings. It’ll do, he thinks, and equips them both, ensuring to hide most of his face behind his bandana.
He feels better with his bandana covering most of his face.
He needs to get out of here. He needs to get back to his saloon so he can fix himself… somehow. Somehow. He’ll find a way. He’ll find a way, and then everything will return to normal. He’s positive that is not what will happen, but he’s pretty good at living in denial. When he first realised he was becoming a doll, the more he denied it the more Joel rubbed it in and the worse it got. He supposed he dug his own grave in that regard, but no matter what he’d have said, Gods had terribly loud voices.
He’s brought out of his thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat, and he turns, pulling his bandana up higher. It is a futile effort, but it makes him feel a bit better. Joel was leaning on the doorframe and Jimmy silently cursed the man. Gods had loud voices, but apparently they also had an absolutely terrible sense of timing.
“What do you want?” Jimmy has no reason to be polite or try to keep the peace. He needs to get home.
“I came to help, and this is the thanks I get?” Joel scoffs, and Jimmy scowls in return. Immediately (and weirdly uncharacteristically), Joel softens “Sorry- Look, Jimmy, I—”
Jimmy turns his back on Joel, scooping up the pieces of his face, ignoring how every single time he touches one or picks one up he has to hold back a shudder. He’s horrified that he can still feel it - or perhaps it was more phantom pains. He doesn’t know anymore. He can hear Joel trying to say something behind him about fixing him but Jimmy doesn’t care. It’s Joel’s fault he’s like this in the first place.
Jimmy was a forgiving person, generally. Pretty willing to let things go, and pretty happy to let the status quo stay as it was - he was adaptable in pretty much every circumstance, becoming a living doll included - but he’d found his breaking point.
Ignoring everything that Joel is saying, he very gently puts the pieces of his face away in his inventory, before he pushes past the God of the server, turning back to leer at him with the broken side of his face.
“I don’t need your help. Stay out of Tumble Town.”
He cracks a rocket, and for a moment he fumbles in the air, trying to adjust to flying without depth perception, but he manages to fly his way over to the other side of Tumble Town to his saloon.
Joel doesn’t follow him.
———
The Sheriff of Tumble Town is a ruler that no one really seems to see anymore, and whenever people do catch glimpses of him, he’s usually atop his horse, bandana over his face, hat low.
Rumours spread across the lands about the porcelain sheriff who’s horrified screams echoed throughout the streets, and Jimmy knows them. He knows that the other rulers know too - from the way they tread carefully around him, to the way they never seem to touch him anymore, or only meet in hallways carefully carpeted in wool, or outdoor areas bathed in soft, fluffy moss.
He knows, because of the way Kathrine doesn’t greet him with a hug anymore, or the way that fWhip cringes whenever Jimmy glances at him with his broken eye, or the way that Lizzie very delicately brings up her own mask, and how she was thinking of making a new one, wondering if he’d like one to match - not for any particular reason, but to solidify their alliance. Of course.
He knows because of the way that the Toy Barn near Stratos is quietly taken down without a word one day, and no one seems to mention it.
The Sheriff is seldom seen, even by his citizens, and everyone knows why.
