For a minute, she's stuck spinning in it
Still, it's better to lose hope than dying in it
Off track, impact, slam!
She's lying in it
You said nothing in this world could ever
Make you feel better than I do
So hold on just a little longer
When you don't feel that you belong
All I want is a chance to fall into you
As a Death Scythe, Spirit was on the wrong end of quite a beating.
That is, from his Meister.
Little did people know, Shinigami still housed his old temper under his newfound happiness. This was mostly evident in the form of the famous Shinigami Chop, but, being with Shinigami for so long, Spirit received many other forms of pounding from the god of death.
Along with being chopped, he had been punched, kicked, stomped on, pulled by the ear, dragged by the scuff of his jacket, falcon punched, tripped, tackled, dunked into a bucket of ice water, pounded on, and basically every other form of violence that was possible. All done in a small fraction of Shinigami's real power, of course. The only time Shinigami had used more than just a small tap in his eyes was one time that definitely crossed the moral line.
Spirit had taken Shinigami to a bar to cheer him up after the Kishin escaped. Worst. Mistake. Ever. Spirit had ended up intoxicated, groping all the women in the bar while Shinigami closed his fist too tightly around his glass and shattered it. It was pretty much the usual, until…
Really, it wasn't Spirit's fault. Not only was he intoxicated and therefore had the vision of such a person, but the bar was dark and Shinigami's thin, seemingly delicate body…well, who wouldn't mistake him as a woman? Spirit certainly did. He could even remember the conversation now, as he stumbled up to his Meister.
"Ready to go?" Shinigami growled out through gritted teeth, his hands shaking in a thinly veiled attempt to restrain from strangling his Weapon.
"Ooh, feisty, aren't we? I haven't even gotten to know you!" Spirit giggled.
"Huh? Spirit-kun, you've known me all your life…"
"So, you're famous huh? Well, I'll let you in a secret then." He leaned in closely to Shinigami's ear and whispered, "I'm Shinigami's scythe."
"Yeah. I know." The reaper raised a eyebrow, puzzled.
"Oh, so you must know how good I am in bed."
"Heh?" Shinigami tried to scramble away, but Spirit was faster. A hand on his chest effectively made him freeze. A deep blush spread over his cheeks. "Um, Spirit-kun?"
"You're not very endowed, are you? Well, that's all right. I'll manage." Spirit was leaning more and more towards Shinigami's blushing, shocked face.
"S-Spirit-kun, w-what are you…" Shinigami managed to choke out before his lips were captured in Spirit's own. The reaper's golden eyes widened and his blush grew redder. He broke apart from Spirit.
Then he cocked his fist back with an expression of pure fury on his face. He threw his fist forward, unleashing a full blown Shinigami Punch and causing Spirit to fly across the room, crash through the plaster wall, and smash into the wall of a neighboring building.
Not only did Spirit have to have his jawbone surgically repaired (courtesy of Stein), Shinigami also refused to speak or make eye contact with him for a week. This, considering Shinigami, felt more like three months for the apologetic Weapon.
Retribution from the death god usually followed whatever act of stupidity Spirit committed in front of him. Considering Spirit was only human and, as such, made a lot of mistakes, this was a lot. This included but was not limited to: ogling after a woman, reading dirty magazines (especially in the Death Room), obsessing over Maka, obsessing over little girls who had the slightest similarities with Maka, insulting Soul, insulting any of the male students who so much as look at Maka, saying something stupid or perverted, acting perverted, trying to use Shinigami's Death Mirror for purposes other than what Shinigami originally intended, being lazy, or basically doing anything that would irritate the lord of death. Which, considering Spirit, was a lot of the time.
But that was okay.
Seeing Shinigami's bright, cheery grin as Spirit came home, no matter what he did that day…
That made all the pain go away.
/
I don't know how to write drabbles. I should write drabbles sometimes. But then they'd be even shorter than my oneshots. Why am I talking to myself?
Rushed chapter, done in a spurt of inspiration. Song doesn't fit the oneshot and will probably be used again because of how much it relates to these two (at least, imo) and because of one line that I didn't add in there but describes their relationship as well (I don't mind wasting time with you) which will probably be used in another oneshot. Maybe.
Long author's note is long! (And doesn't have any pronouns. Or nouns. Or anything vaguely resembling a complete sentence.) Back to brain-frying Pre-Calc homework.
Song is "Into You" by Zebrahead.
