oh god what am i doing here i haven't posted anything on this site in years

wrote this for my tumblr rp blog for the character Gumillia from mothy's The Evillious Chronicles (go look it up if you haven't already its amazing). it's based around the events of The Last Revolver/the Pere Noel arc in the story

ANYWAY yeah enjoy this terrible angsty oneshot

disclaimer; BLUH BLUH I GLUBBING OWN NOTHING

Gumillia stared at the heavy, metallic weapon in her hand, her eyes glazed over in melancholy, and she tossed it back onto her bed lightly, not giving it another glance. She sat on the bed and put her head in her hands, sighing deeply, trying to release the frustration building within her.

She couldn't do it. The setting was perfect, she had him in her grasp and the sword was right there and the timing was absolutely perfect with nobody around to witness but yet - she couldn't shoot him. She was an assassin, she had killed before, she had seen the life fade from someone's eyes, heard them whisper the name's of loved ones on their dying breathe and she hadn't cared a single bit - because it was her job. She wasn't supposed to care.

She hated him. And at the same time, she loved him. More than she had loved anyone, even Elluka. She thought she understood herself and her humans emotions. But even after a good few hundred years of being one, she couldn't comprehend the feelings she had for him, why she cared for him so much, more so than any of her old friends, and even the person who had given her this body.

Gumillia thought she understood what it meant to love, but in truth, she knew nothing at all.

She turned to look at the picture frame on her side table. Inside the frame was a picture of herself and him, taken in the Spring, not long after she had met him. He had invited her out to a festival of sorts, and she saw it as a good opportunity to get closer to him and the sword. She didn't expect to enjoy the time she spent with him that night, and she remembered how reluctant she had been when he insisted they have a picture taken together. She acted as if she didn't care for that sort of thing, when really she was just extremely camera shy, and she got the feeling he knew that all along, which was why he kept pestering her to have the picture taken.

He was annoyingly persistent, although she secretly liked that about him, and he won her over in the end. She was smiling in the picture, although hesitantly, and he had her arms around her with a big grin on his stupid, handsome face. She picked up the picture frame and held it close to her, admiring it, the guilt tearing through her chest. She choked back a sob and wiped the oncoming tears from her eyes.

She hated Elluka for making her do this. For dragging her on this horrible quest, for making her join a detestable guild where she was forced to murder innocents. She felt betrayed, used, as if she was a puppet simply there to do the dirty work. All this for a stupid sword.

Gumillia laid back down on the bed, clutching the frame to her chest as if to protect herself with, and closed her eyes. She was so tired, so tired of everything. Of running. Lying. Killing.

The gun shook in her hand as she pointed it at his chest, tears streaming down her face. He simply stared at her; he didn't look angry, or shocked, or betrayed, he simply looked at her with a small - albeit sad - smile on his face. He knew all along who she was, of course, and had still wanted to be with her, which confused her even more.

You're supposed to hate me! She would yell, but he would just shake his head, and try to move closer to her. She still didn't shoot.

I know you don't want to do this. He would reply, and she wouldn't deny it. She didn't want to. She loved him. But she had to. Elluka would be mad. Julia would hate her. She wouldn't be the heartless assassin she thought she was. Who she thought she was supposed to be.

She felt dizzy, her head was spinning as they talked, and she could barely even remember what she was saying. He was getting closer, and her heart was pounding against her chest, her finger twitching ever so dangerously on the trigger. She closed her eyes as fresh tears poured out, feeling his soft fingers tracing her cheek, and she couldn't stop shaking. He leaned in close, embracing her ever so slightly, running his fingers through her soft green hair in attempt to comfort her, and then he whispered to her -

I love you.

Bang.

The shock of both his last words and noise hit her, and she dropped the gun and fell to the floor, cradling his lifeless body and crying out in pain. She realised it now. She didn't hate Elluka, or him for making her feel like this. She hated herself. She hated herself for not doing what was right, for not standing up for herself and choosing her own path. For not making her own decisions. She never wanted to kill, but she did it anyway, even though it was wrong.

The person who she betrayed was ultimately herself. That was her sin.

I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

Didn't we promise to be together forever?

Don't worry about me.

We'll be together soon.

Bang.