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Oct 20, 2019 4:26 PM
tokyo ghoul, but not in tokyo
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The first crystal lances through his shoulder, the second into his side, the third almost—but not quite—into his eye—

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The set of thorny, mottled tentacles that erupt from his lower back probably isn’t a surprise.

It probably is a surprise that they’re pulling Jean in — and not to crush him.

“Fuck—should’ve told me you were into that—”

The crystal nearly pierced through his torso doesn’t seem to have changed his attitude.

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Well this is just awkward now.

"I'm not into it, lovely," he sighs, petting Z's hair as he sends another barrage at him. "I'm trying to kill you."

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He manages to block most of this one, now that his kagune's out, and having crystals embedded in that isn't exactly a good thing but it's better than further damage to his body.

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"...seriously?"

The tentacles coiled around Jean tighten, the thornlike protrusions digging in, and then do their very best to throw him bodily through his kitchen wall. (The couch is now completely ruined.)

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"My sister liked that couch!" Jean complains, from the wreckage of the kitchen wall, and pulls himself upright to launch another assault.

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“Yeah, and I like being alive!”

Mostly! On good days!

He blocks most of the shards sent flying his way, but he’s still hit in the side and the arm and the cheek. Most of the old crystals have dissipated by now, and he’s healing up rapidly — even quicker than should be expected from a ghoul of his type — but he was already hungry and he doesn’t know how much fight he has in him.

He’ll just have to make it count.

Two of the tentacles curling out of his back lash out, each trying to find an opening to slash at Jean with the thorns or spear him through the torso, while the other three stay back to try to absorb some of the onslaught.

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Jean is good -- not good enough to entirely evade the attack, but good enough that he can afford to shrug off what makes it through, aiming another volley of his own.

"You're not alive!"

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.“I—what?? Yes I am! What the fuck—”

A shard strikes him in the stomach and he stops, gasping.

“—is your damage?”

He tears it out and throws it back, aware it probably won’t hit before it’s reabsorbed— and he lunges for the window.

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Jean lunges for it too. "No you are not making a scene I am not moving again I like this apartment!"

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“Then you shouldn’t have brought a guy home to murder!”

He reaches out with his kagune and tries to grab him and wrap him up in thorns again.

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Jean doesn't entirely evade them; he has to struggle free, failing to react to the thorns tearing his skin.

"I don't bring anyone home to murder! I brought you home to fuck and then you turned out to be a ghoul!"

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You’re a ghoul!”

He goes for the door this time.

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Jean flings himself bodily at him in an attempt to stop him.

"I can't help it!"

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He grabs Jean with his kagune as he flings himself at him. This time they’re trying to break bones. That’ll buy him a couple minutes of not being murdered, if he’s lucky.

“You think can help it!?”

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There's at least one unpleasant cracking noise. Jean doesn't pause in his attack.

"When I've killed every other ghoul out there I'll finish with myself. I don't believe you're doing the same."

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He’s healing as fast as Jean can tear him apart, and he knows that ukaku users can’t last all that long, but—he’s hungry. He can’t last long, himself.

He keeps trying to break things, and there’s blood on his lips, and he’s—crying.

“Fuck you!”

He tries for a tentacle through the chest again.

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The crying is --

-- it's not very distracting, but he wasn't expecting it to be distracting at all, and --

 

-- he isn't very distracted, but he is at all distracted.

He dodges a moment too late, has to try to pull away from the tentacles clutching at him.

It catches him a bit off-center, clean through his shoulder.

 

He doesn't so much as wince, but he is securely pinned, now.

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“I’m trying! I’m trying to be okay!”

He’s lashing out with the thorns haphazardly, like he’s trying to push Jean away even as he has him pinned to the floor.

“I’ve been trying not to kill anybody, why do you think I hang out on a bridge, but it’s so hard and it’s been more than a month and I’m hungry all the time—”

He’s still crying.

“And now you’re gonna keep hurting me and I’m not gonna be thinking straight anymore by tomorrow and you’re gonna make me kill someone, fuck you!

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"You expect sym-"

One of the thorns catches him across the face, and he has to start over. "You expect sympathy from me? You're hungry because you haven't been killing as many people as you'd like? Go to hell."

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“I don’t want to kill anybody!”

He throws him, hard, at the window.

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He lands hard, spits blood from the side of his mouth; throws his bladed attack at Z again, but it's perceptibly faltering.

"Could've fooled me."

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He smacks some of the crystals aside. Some of them embed themselves in his chest.

“I tried to leave! Twice!”

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"I'm not such a coward that I'd let you walk away and kill some other poor bastard tomorrow."

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He makes a wordless noise of frustration, throws the couch, and dashes for the door again.

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