sunsblaze

[sunsblaze]

Demon!Hinatsuru

Hinatsuru was out on a mission for the demon slayer corps after they joined years ago, Lord Tengen had only recently become a hashira. However, the mission went sideways which resulted in the female going missing. Many believed she was killed and consumed by the demons as the mission was ambushed and everyone was slaughtered. There had been no survivors and many corpses were missing. However, she was on the break of death when she was turned into a demon. She can not remember her human life or memories at all. However, the only thing that remained was the name Hina, so she assumed that was her name. Her appearance looks similar to a tengu from her shinobi background and she has a blood demon art which allows her to turn her feathers into weapons. This verse is open about the circumstances on how she was turned and who turned her.

Artwork is by Kuroracon

[sunsblaze]

Underneath the moonlight... slumbering within the safe glow of the celestial entity that painted the sky during the dark of the night... secrets lay hidden.

Quiet truths that teasingly showed off slivers of their true nature as the wind softly blew, directing the moon's attention towards them for but a split second. As if itching to be discovered without any active attempt to be caught.

The truths of the world that did not seek cover to hide from the world... but who quietly went about their business with only brief moments of visual detection.

Not much unlike the demons that housed these lands...

An understated but breathtaking demonstration of subtlety...

Watching the way the moon rose to the sky always awakened a sense of within him... akin to the endless cycle of rising from sleep every day... a steady companion in his heart until his unspecified demise.

It was with calm eyes that michikatsus gaze had settled itself to rest upon the tiles of the roof, basking in the quiet sensory comfort of his spiky, thick black hair softly swaying within the light winds.

Although the other's signature was non-existent... the sensation of his solitude had passed... the list of individuals who were capable of infiltrating his space without alerting his senses was short. A quick side glance only served to confirm his suspicions: "is there anything you need... yoriichi?"

Deep resonant baritone lacking any sort of infliction, akin to a power source without direction... or rather... a being too sunken into the woes of somberness planted in the night sky... to muster up any strong emotions

The night was met with a certain degree of unrest, just as it had for the past years for the night now called to him, beckoning him away from the warmth of his futon as it had most nights.

The path of a slayer of demons was by no means a simple one, nights became ones days, the greater part of days were spent grasping for a few meager hours of rest before an afternoon of tracking and traveling would commence, the days would repeat over and over, becoming monotonous. The number of demon attacks was overwhelming their dwindling forces, it seemed more of their comrades died than the numbers of demons slayer, though it had always been this way, especially amongst those who remained unmarked.

However, now was not a time to think of such things for he had been granted a fortnight of rest after months of stretching himself thin between his own missions and the burden of teaching budding swordsmen. It had been abundantly clear that the sun user needed a break when he found himself overtaken with fever.

Bare feet padded along the cool earth as Yoriichi opted to join the elder Tsugikuni under the gentle glow that radiated down from the clear skies, the soft breeze kissed his skin, caressing the fiery-raven coils that adorned his head leaving a feeling of invigoration in its wake.

“I find myself to be well acquainted with the moon and stars as of late,” as he spoke he would place himself by Michikatsu’s side so that their sleeves would brush one another in a vague expression of affection. “And so I thought indulging in their beauty is best done in the company of another admirer.”

[sunsblaze]

“It makes for a decent cover, what is a few more missing amongst a wave of others. You have my blade at your beck and call.” Politely he would bow his head towards the other, a means to thank him for filling his cup once again. It seems they both might have their own roles to play in this performance.

“It seems our numbers have been dwindling as of late, the newcomers are so easily overwhelmed, with every one we train it seems thrice the numbers are killed.” A gentle sigh left his lips as he lifted the ceramic to his lips, basking in the warmth that was left radiating in his chest. “Though I cannot say I have met any quite like you.”

The ferocious roar of thunder echoed through the inky night as the clouds gave way to a rain most fierce, the heavy drops coming down like a monsoon, saturating the earth beneath the demon slayer’s sandals, each step he took drawing him closer to the quaint mountain inn, the light serving as a beacon in the bleak darkness. This inn, it was the only source of salvation for miles, the only place for a weary traveler to rest their head, though…it was not why the mysterious man had sought it out.

There was much work to be done.

A shiver rattled the man’s body as the chill of the rain settled deep within his bones, the harsh winds whipping the crimson fabric of his haori as he pushed himself through the sliding doors and into the welcoming warmth of the lobby, a calloused hand raising to push soaked strands of fiery raven hair from his face as he approached the inn keeper. The conversation was short and to the point, ended as the warrior placed coins upon the desk, guaranteeing his spot for the night.

The old man who stood behind the counter would take the coins, tucking them away before stepping from behind the counter to lead the towering man through the halls, though as they padded down the hall they crossed paths with a man who was quite peculiar, so much so that the slayer would turn his head as to catch a better glimpse of the colorful figure, his own steps ceasing.

How curious.

Who was @micsmasmuses?

[sunsblaze]

This place, this temple and the girl the was currently nursing back to health within its walls, they were her life, her reason for standing tall, her reasons for living on even thought the world around them was burning and crumbling to pieces like embers left behind after a great bonfire. The little priestess would give everything she had to keep them safe, she would sacrifice her mind, her body, and even her life for them just as she devoted those same attributes to the gods.

She knew not why he wished to cross blades with her, she did not hold the wisdom of time and age as he had, she had little experience in life compared to the moon demon who had been alive for decades. Still, she would not risk losing the things she held dear to her simply because she did no know of his intent or how far he was willing to push, she would move with everything she had, with the will of a woman who was on the precipice of losing everything.

To her she was not a girl who held nothing, she had a story, she had things of worth, things she cared for, here and now she had everything she could ask for, she had food in her belly, a place to call home, people she cared for, and a purpose- a calling. That calling to her was not the blade, it was serving the people.

She was very much like him, the way she moved, her completion, the soft lilt of her voice as she offered up kindness to all who sought out refuge in her presence, she had even shared his namesake, the most stark contrast between her and his brother had been the lack of that damned mark that resembled flames licking across ones skin.

Indeed she would find herself pushed to her limits as their engagement went on, she was no trained warrior as he was and she was human, she would eventually begin to tire, her movements slowing after some time to the point where his blade would catch with her arm, leaving a shallow cut in the soft flesh before he would disarm her, the blade falling from her delicate hands, hands that now had blisters blooming across smooth palms, some left torn as small pearls of crimson decorated her skin. The white of her garments, the testament of her devotion to higher beings, began to soil with the crimson of her own blood as the liquid flowed freely from her injury.

Exhaustion had left her kneeling upon the ground, the now disturbed gravel digging into her knees as she panted, sweat now glistening on her skin, with training, with a build up of endurance, she could become something amazing, she could stand as his equal on the battlefield or even surpass him with time.

“I…” she breathed slowly, closing her eyes as she felt his hand upon her head, but she would not shy away from his palm, “am no warrior.” While she was beyond irritated with him, that he would push her as he did, make her take arms against him, she had also felt a thrilling sensation, not quite fear, but not quite enjoyment, she would not put her finger on exactly what it was. “My hands serve the gods, not the will of man.” Her voice was soft as she spoke, her injured arm raising, her hand grasping his wrist, leaving scarlet painted across his skin.

His eyes grew wide in surprise; he had not expected such a fiery spirit from a priestess, from a human, especially not one who could wield his brother’s lost art. He stepped back, the tip of her sword grazed the skin of his throat, leaving a thin line of blood that trailed down like a crimson tear. His eyes searched hers, looking for any signs of malicious intent, but instead he found something else, something that was almost as surprising.

Her gaze was steady, her grip firm, yet there was no hatred, no anger, no desire for bloodshed in her eyes, only a fierce determination to protect what was hers. This was a woman who knew the true meaning of strength, who had faced her fears and overcome them to stand before him, the demon of the moon. He could not help but admire her, even as the anger within him grew.

He was impressed, he has been fighting for so long, and he has killed so many, no one for so many endless twisting and turning years, ever lasted against, was able to do anything to impress him … but this temple girl, in the middle of nowhere, with no name, no story, with nothing at all in the land, was able to do something, it was no dumb luck or mistake, that was potintial and talent, that was skill and power … the likes of which are buried within someone, born with it, blessed by the gods and heavens and he knew it.

He had seen such determination before, in the eyes of the strongest of his kind, in the eyes of his enemies, in the eyes of his brother. But here it was, in the eyes of a human, a priestess, and it was maddening. He had to have it, he had to know how she had come by such power. He had to know if his brother’s legacy lived on through her.

It made sense, this temple .. was still standing, while others he ahs come across, burned down, destroyed, everyone killed, looted and the women raped and then murdered and yet, she was still alive .. how? Her aura was blinding, the heat from her was now, an inferno with a blade in her hand, but … she was good, not great .. he knew she could not kill him .. yet.

With a roar that shook the very foundations of the temple, he lunged at her, his blade a silver streak in the moonlit night. His movements were those of a predator, swift and precise, each strike aimed to test her resolve, to push her to her limits, to see if she truly had the strength to wield the sun breathing.

As he lunged, she met him with a grace that seemed almost supernatural. The blade she held, an extension of her own body, moved to intercept his, a fierce determination burning within her as she blocked his attack. Each clang of steel was a declaration of her resolve, a silent shout into the night that she would not be overwhelmed by his power, by his anger. Her dance continued, but now it was not a dance of peace, but one of war, each movement a declaration of her intent to protect. As he would clash the blade over and over, and then, reached, caught her hand, twisted it, made her drop the sword as it stuck into the ground.

“Impressive …” He said, as his hand went to it, the blade sinking back into his body. “You need a master …” He said as he stood over her, looking down at her as he knew, what he wanted, she was perfect … someone that he could finally fight, at a high level, someone to pit himself against, the measuring bar he sought. “You need training …” He said as he walked to her now, to place his hand onto her head.

“I’ll train you …”

[sunsblaze]

Once of the very reasons he had chosen to voice his feelings was because of Michikatsu, he had spent many years silently contemplating on the events that had led to his beloved twin’s fall from grace, his fall right into the arms of that man. A part of that fall had been his own neglect of his brother’s feelings, how he had been blind to the struggles of one he held so close to his heart. Never again would he left things unspoken, never again would he leave one unaware of their worth.

“There is no need to thank me,” he would shake his head slightly, “sharing simple kindness is the least I could do.”

There had once been a time where he had feared death, where it seemed to linger over his shoulder like a phantom, but as time passed so did the fear and in place came acceptance, death was merely a part of the human condition, it was what made life so precious, though it only became a problem when accepted was lost to complacency- when the time before death was not lived as if every second could be the last.

He knew she was strong, he could see the scars time and hardship had let on her body, the lingering reminders of the hurt she was forced to endure, yet still she stood tall and moved on.

There had been enough emotional shock for the day, her old wounds have been poked at enough, her heartstrings tugged at more than enough, he didn’t wish to exhaust her any further, especially not while she was healing, for now she needed to focus on getting better so she could take the time and energy to process things properly.

It was probably best to ease him into the prospects of her job- it wasn’t that he would judge her for what she had to do, what she did was for the greater good, but it was simply that the man had a gentle heart, even slaying demons weighed on his soul, he had often offered small parting prayers for the suffering souls he dispatched.

The current events of the world were a foreign matter to him, the last he knew of the political state of the country was when it violently waged war within its own borders, he had seen the carnage first hand in his travels as a slayer.

”I imagine it is quite strenuous to keep track of all matters on your own, do you at least have the assistance you need?”

He wished he could return such a bright smile, that he could offer her more than a blank face and hollow voice, but alas, he would simply offer her what he could. “I do appreciate the sentiment, you are kind, kindness can be a rarity… I do look forward to making many memories with you, you are the first friend I have known in many years.”

He did indeed carry a deal of worry in his heart for the young woman that stood before him, especially after all of the kindness she had extended towards him, Yoriichi would have hated to see her injured further. This body of his was strong, durable, though it did not hold the strength he held in his prime, it could do intensive damage to even skilled slayers.

Her words caused a twinge of sadness within him, while he could sympathize with how Astra felt, it saddened him to know that she had faced such trials and tribulations that it shaped her mind into thinking such things. “Which is why I worry…” his voice was but a whisper as he leaned slightly to see level with her, “I have been by your side, even if unknowingly for months and we have spoken little so far, but I do care if you live or die.”

There were few times he had felt such fear himself- the last time he had felt a true, deep fear was when he had come to face the demon lord, it was a fear he had felt deep within his bones.

“Keep fighting, but do not just fight to survive or because it is your duty to do so… I want you to fight to live…so you can take me to see the world.”

Yoriichi would not have her be alone, not ever again if that is what she wished, while he was no longer human, he was still a well aged man, he had long wanted to settle down, he had no drive left to wonder about aimlessly nor to fight, he just wished for some true peace.

Caring for others was something that had come natural to him, it was a part of him he had inherited from his mother, a part of him that had once yearned so deeply for a family, for little ones of his own.

It would not be in fate’s design.

Slowly his hand would retreat from her face, his cool fingers grazing the warm skin of her cheek.

“I suppose that shall work, you are quite clever,” he praised gently, “You always seem quick to have an answer to every problem cast your way, it is quite commendable.” The time he had been watching over her he had come to see the similarities she shared with his brother- it was quite endearing, leaving him with a gentle sense of nostalgia.

A small nod of agreement.

“Of course, you need to heal properly, while I could help you around I am sure that it would not be ideal for you,” he mused, one of his hand coming to hold his chin between his thumb and index finger. “Ah, I do not think I could allow anyone to take your head.” With those words he shook his head playfully, thought his words were sincere.

It took him a second to answer the question she had presented him for it had been a while since he had been fully wound. “I believe half a day at a time, though most could never train long enough to make full use of the time given.”

A warm chuckled echoed from him, though he did understand her intentions.

“How very kind, but I suppose something like that would take a miracle.”

[sunsblaze]

x - continued for @phcenixking

The heat was intense, radiating from the grand throne like hell’s inferno, though it didn’t seem to bother the man despite the fact that he was dressed in many layers of clothing, in layers of golden-yellow, crimson, and coal, he would not flinch, not shy away for there were few things in this world that the young swordsman truly feared.

Still, Yoriichi would not let down his guard, his hand staying in close proximity to the hilt of his blade, his sharp maroon eyes following the fire lord’s every move, he knew of the man’s cruelty, knew of the crimes he had committed not only on the peoples of other nations, but of his own people as well. He knew a man such as him would take a life with little thought on the matter, lives were nearly stepping stones.

He could feel the way the older male examined his features, could see the light of recognition in his eyes- so it seemed he had met his brother, that at the very least his twin had been here at one point if he wasn’t still locked away somewhere. Twins were indeed a rarity, especially in these times, it wasn’t uncommon for one of a pair to be disposed of to preserve the line of succession. His expression remained unchanged as he watched Ozai stepped down from down from his throne.

“My elder brother, I will go nowhere without him or without proof that he no longer resides here.” His baritone voice held an unshakable firmness, his gaze meeting with the other’s in defiance, still, he would speak with respect. “My lord, it is my duty to stand by my brother for we are two halves of a whole.”

[sunsblaze]

//chat should I post a bunch of old art?

[sunsblaze]

She listened to the way his heart raced beneath skin and bone, her ear pressing firmly against his broad chest, her head tilting back slightly to she could look up at him- just looking at him tested her restraint, she could only think of sinking her teeth into his flesh, of tearing muscle away from bone, but she was quick to bury such thoughts, the part of her that had known him pulling in opposition to the darkness that consumed her very being.

Fear bled from him…or was it something else?

Her eyes were like staring into a vast emptiness, the sunshine that has once resided within them had been extinguished and in their place laid an all consuming set of twin black holes that seemed to suck in and tear apart all that they were cast upon. Yet underneath it all were the fragmented remains of his sister, forced into submission by whatever had drug her back from death and used her corpse as a vessel for cruelty.

It could hear the gentle clattering of the blade as his fingers wrapped around the hilt and in response her hand would find its way to his bicep, the touch unsettlingly cold as her fingers ran down his arm before caressing the hand he held upon the blade, her fingers tangling within his, squeezing with an unrestrained, painful grip. She didn’t have the intentions on hurting him, not at the moment, it was just having a hard time gauging the strength of her body.

“I…didn’t mean to,” she croaked, her voice hoarse as she slowly peeled herself away from him.

Her body hurt, she was tired

This body was in a perpetual state of dying and reviving itself, she felt the agony of it constantly, it would not stop nor would it ease, the only comfort she could find was in the warmth of his body, it was the reason why she had yet to indulge in his flesh- that and this odd sentimentality she held in her chest, one that she held due to the mix of its instinct to survive, to use him to survive and the love that lingered from this body’s original inhabitant.

The last moments she had lives were a blur, everything all jumbled together into a tangled mess.

What had happened?

“The…the train,” she murmured, her hands raising to caress her head, her eyes casting themselves down as a vague look of confusion overtook her features, her brows knitted. “It hurt…I was…lost.” She rubbed at her temples, her fingertips digging in firmly, her body began trembling under the strain of trying to dig up the happenings of the evening, thick darkened crimson running fresh from her nose once again before her legs would give under her weight.

He stood frozen, his heart racing a thousand beats per minute as he stared down at her, his mind trying to make sense of the impossible. 

His hand hovered over her back, his fingers twitching with the urge to feel her skin, to confirm that this was indeed his sister. But something stopped him, a fear that if he touched her, he would find the cold, lifeless flesh of a corpse.

Her voice, the one that had called out to him with such warmth and love, now seemed hollow, a mere echo of the Yoriichi he knew. When she looked up at him, her eyes once filled with light and joy now dark and vacant. He could see the hunger in them, a hunger that was not for food, but something much more sinister.

He felt a cold chill run down his spine as he took in the sight of his sister. 

He knew, deep down, that this was not her, not truly. The Yoriichi he knew would never have left the morgue, would never have come back to him like this. This was something else, something that had taken her form, a twisted mockery of the person she had been. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers as he reached for his sword, his hand shaking. He had killed countless beings, had faced down the worst that the night had to offer, but this was different. 

This was his sister, the one person he had sworn to protect above all others. 

And yet, the creature before him was not her.

The hunger in her eyes grew, the smile on her lips was more like a fucking a snarl, her teeth were like sharp fangs that gleamed in the dim light of the corridor. He could see the shadows playing across her skin, the dark energy that had taken her over, that had brought her back from the dead.

“Baby sister, you had me worried …” He whispered to her.

His hand clenched around the handle of his sword, the weight of it comforting in his hand. He didn’t know what to do; his mind a chaotic mess of conflicting emotions and thoughts. He wanted to hold her, to tell her everything would be okay, but he knew that was a lie. 

Nothing would ever be okay again.

He watched as the creature that was once his sister took a step closer, the hunger in her eyes growing with each passing second. The scent of decay grew stronger, and he could see the veins under her skin pulse with an eerie, dark light. His heart ached with the reality that she was lost to him, that he had failed her in the most fundamental way possible. Yet, he needed to see, just how dangerous she is, what she is as well.

“I was about to come looking for you, you stayed out quite late, what happened?”

[sunsblaze]

[sunsblaze]

Koi no Mae ni, Amaku Hajimete

[sunsblaze]

“Yes,” he breathed, “all is well, brother.” His fingers gently curled into the soft fabric of the other’s sleeves as he was lifted back up to his feet, he would take a moment to steady himself, his breathing slowly evening out. The sun dragon had been pushing himself much too hard, he had been giving more than he had and it was taking quite a toll on him.

Yoriichi was strong, it had always been as such, but prayers were dwindling, faith is what sustained them, they relied on the people as the people relied on them, like most relationships it was a matter of give and take, but in this instance there was little balance to it. He was giving much more than he received back, it hadn’t always been so, he was only trying to maintain the same level of care he had always bestowed upon the humans, the only difference was that the humans were now taking much more than they were giving back. “It is their nature, brother, they know little of consequence, their lives are fleeting when measured to our own, they are akin to children.”

As the words left his lips, he would walk side by side with the moon dragon, his own human form mirroring that of his brother’s save for the trinkets of gold that adorned his fiery mane. His demeanor seemed to become lighter, more cheerful, as they found themselves in the middle of the festivities, seeing it all, the carefree faces of the humans, the warm glow of delicately painted lanterns, and hearing the gentle music and merry singing of the people. These moments reinforced his belief that putting such strain on himself was worth it for what was the point of wielding such power if he could not give it back to the land and its inhabitants.

He truly believed in them, that one day the fighting would cease, that the humans would be able to lean on one another, that they would no longer have to turn to a higher power for protection.

The truth was that Yoriichi cared little for the trinkets of gold and jewels that was cast upon them as offerings, to him the value was not in the items themselves, but in the people who had given them up, he kept them as a reminder, as a tribute to the faith held in them by the people, as a reminder of the willingness they had to give up something so precious simply to ensure they would have a good harvest to feed those they held dear. The humans, while they were rough around the edges, also held good attributes as well, not only that, but they held hope within their hearts.

Drawing the cool night air into his lungs, the younger of the duo would let a low hum rumble in his chest as he attempted to make a decision on what exactly he wanted to indulge himself in first, though there were so many options, between food, drinks, dancing, playing, and so many other things.

“Such a sour expression does not suit your face, brother.”

He would nudge the elder, brushing their now soft cheeks together before he would take one of the other’s hands away from his chest, intertwining their fingers. “Come, indulge for once…let me shower you with the spoils of human cuisine.”

He remained standing and looked down at him, a frown etched onto his face, “Brother, are you alright?” He had never seen Yoriichi so weak, it was disturbing to say the least. As he leaned down and pulled him right back up onto his feet. He didn’t argue further, but his mind was racing, his brother was the embodiment of the sun, he couldn’t be weak, not now, not when the humans needed him most.

It made no sense, between them his brother was far and above stronger and better. And his words about the people and aiding them, as annoying as it was. He was right, he didn’t approve, he wanted little to do with them, if he had his way, there would be no interaction with them, not even to humour them at all. “They got themselves into this mess.” As he dragged his hand down his face, the fighting, the wars, the killing, it was always the same song and dance, and he … for once he was the one trying to stay on the straight and narrow … he found that amusing.

With a heavy heart, he followed Yoriichi out of the cave, the night air cool and crisp against his skin. The festival was in full swing, the air alive with the sound of laughter and music. Lanterns bobbed in the breeze, casting a warm glow over the crowd. The scent of roasting meat and sweet incense filled the air, a tantalizing mix that made his stomach growl. As he stayed close to him, watching him to make sure there was not another stumble.

He couldn’t help but feel out of place as they walked among the humans. They had come to see them as gods, yet here he was, in human form, blending in with the very beings he was meant to protect and guide. The necklace of moonstones around his neck was a constant reminder of his true identity, a silent promise to himself that he would not be swayed by their adoration. He didn’t care for them, why would he? Why on earth would he help them?

Because they prayed?

Because they begged?

Because they made little charms and trinkets?

Pathetic …

The festival was a sea of vibrant colors and warm lights, a stark contrast to the cold, dark night that was his usual domain. The air was thick with the smells of roasting meat and sweet desserts, the sounds of laughter and music intertwining with the crackling of bonfires. The humans moved in a blur of excitement, their eyes alight with joy and wonder. It was a spectacle that had once been commonplace for him, but now, after years of watching from the shadows, it felt almost foreign. As he moved around.

His gaze swept over the bustling stalls, the wooden structures laden with delicacies that tempted the senses. His stomach grumbled in protest at his own stubbornness; it had been centuries since he last enjoyed the simple pleasure of human food. The aromas of grilling skewers and steaming rice cakes filled his nostrils, bringing back distant memories of his mother's kitchen. He watched as children played games of skill, their faces flushed with excitement as they tried to win small trinkets and sweets. The adults danced and sang around the fires, their voices carrying on the cool night air like a gentle lullaby.

And he just stood there, arms folded over his chest, head slightly turned to the side, he wanted to be anywhere, other than here.

[sunsblaze]

She wished this moment would last forever, that she could take this feeling in her hands and hold it to her heart forever, to revel in the merriment of their time together until the day they parted.

The spot they had settled into was perfect and she would help him lay things out- or at least she would try, but it seemed her brother was apt to handle things himself, she couldn’t help but crack a grin, shaking her head slightly as she watched him, the way his muscles flexed and pulled under his skin as he laid their things out upon the sand. She really did wish he would relax more, she detested the way tension lingered in his body so she would do the best she could to put him at ease.

“I will show you the amount of respect that there is minutes between us.” She teased, as she stepped towards him, her feet sinking into the warm embrace of the loose grains before she stop to press her lips to the side of his head, her hands coming up to delicately caress his head, a show of her appreciation. “Just remember to take it easy Michi…for me.” Her hands would turn his face to look at her, her gaze meeting his with a gentle, yet firm expression as she thumbed over his cheek.

“Please?”

For a few seconds longer her gaze would flicker over his face before she donned a playful grin, sticking her tongue out at him as her hands fell away from his face and she would turn and begin sprinting towards the water, kicking up sand as a mess of giggles bubbled up from her chest, spilling past her lips, the ruffles and strings that adorned her bikini fluttering like the wings of a butterfly, a testament to the moment of freedom they had been permitted.

Yoriichi ran past the few people that were near the water’s edge, the cool water washing over her feet, caressing her smooth, sun kissed legs, a content sigh leaving her lips as she turned her head to look back at the elder, a smile as bright as the sun painting her lips, shining a warmth upon him. However, her head was not the only that had turned for a small group of men who had few years on them both that had been walking by had slowed, a chattering erupting between them as they laughed and nudged one another, staring the young woman over, though she didn’t seem to have a care in the world, not even casting a glance to them.

Not until an older man from the group approached her, pulling her attention away from Michikatsu, the smile on her lips faltering for just a second before she kept a simply polite expression on her face as the man spoke to her, whatever words he spoke caused her face to go bright red before she would speak just a few words in return, pointing over to her brother, causing the stranger’s gaze to follow. Whatever she said he seemed to simply disregard, one of his hands moving towards her waist.

He couldn’t help but let out a laugh at her enthusiasm, something he had not done in a very long time. It was contagious and it had him feeling like a kid again. 

He quickly followed her, dropping their bags onto the sand before he too removed his shirt. The fabric sticking slightly to his chest and back from the light sheen of sweat from their run. His eyes would scan the area before he found the perfect spot, a place that had enough shade to keep their things cool but was not too crowded. Once he had found the spot, he began to lay out the towels, placing them with the same meticulous precision that he approached every task with. He watched as she kicked off her flip flops, her bare feet sinking into the warm sand, leaving imprints as she made her way to him.

“Show some respect to your elder.”

He took a moment to appreciate the view, the way the sun kissed her skin, making her seem almost ethereal. He couldn’t remember the last time they had done something like this, just the two of them, without the weight of their father’s expectations or the shadow of their mother’s death looming over them.

“Stick that tongue out again and I’ll catch it.”

With a shake of his head, he cleared his mind of those dark thoughts and focused on the task at hand. He quickly found a spot that offered a good balance of shade and sun, perfect for them to relax without burning or overheating. He laid out the towels, one for her and one for him, meticulously aligning the edges with the horizon. His movements were sharp and precise, a reflection of his training, but there was also a gentle ease to them that spoke of his care for her.

He watched her, her eyes sparkling with excitement. He set down the bag of supplies and took a moment to appreciate the scene before him. The sun, high in the sky, painted the beach with a warm glow that highlighted her fiery hair, making it look like it was ablaze with the passion of the setting sun. Her smile was infectious, and he found himself smiling back, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly.

With a swift movement, he pulled off his shirt and flip flops, revealing the powerful muscles honed from years of training. He felt the heat of the sun on his bare skin, and the coolness of the breeze as he stepped onto the soft sand. The ocean waves whispered a sweet serenade, as he stretched his arms out and looked at her and nodded.

“Right, we are done here, come on, time to relax and have fun for once.”

[sunsblaze]

[sunsblaze]

Though the kind gesture did catch him off guard for a second, he would accept the other’s offering, taking the delicate ceramic in his hand as he would allow himself to indulge in the warmth the liquid would bring to his soul.

“Mmh, I have not, though I have heard of them.” He would pull his gaze from his hands, to gaze at the other. “I suppose when one lives brushing shoulders with one mystery, one is bound to engage with another.”

Placing the ceramic on the table he would dip his head in a small nod. “I will do what I can to assist you seeing as my blade will be of no use.”

The ferocious roar of thunder echoed through the inky night as the clouds gave way to a rain most fierce, the heavy drops coming down like a monsoon, saturating the earth beneath the demon slayer’s sandals, each step he took drawing him closer to the quaint mountain inn, the light serving as a beacon in the bleak darkness. This inn, it was the only source of salvation for miles, the only place for a weary traveler to rest their head, though…it was not why the mysterious man had sought it out.

There was much work to be done.

A shiver rattled the man’s body as the chill of the rain settled deep within his bones, the harsh winds whipping the crimson fabric of his haori as he pushed himself through the sliding doors and into the welcoming warmth of the lobby, a calloused hand raising to push soaked strands of fiery raven hair from his face as he approached the inn keeper. The conversation was short and to the point, ended as the warrior placed coins upon the desk, guaranteeing his spot for the night.

The old man who stood behind the counter would take the coins, tucking them away before stepping from behind the counter to lead the towering man through the halls, though as they padded down the hall they crossed paths with a man who was quite peculiar, so much so that the slayer would turn his head as to catch a better glimpse of the colorful figure, his own steps ceasing.

How curious.

Who was @micsmasmuses?

[sunsblaze]

For her this was an intimate moment, she had laid the unfettered essence of her soul before him and showed him a part of her that had lingered through lifetimes- a part of her that was so deeply etched into her being that it came just as natural as breathing. She only shared this sacred part of herself with him because he had done the same, because she felt as if it were something she needed to do. It was a tribute to the lives she had taken for the sake of those who relied on these sacred grounds and for those who were under her care, the sick and those who sought refuge within the temple walls.

She knew not the history behind the dance she performed for him, she would not even know what the technique was called or how the moon demon’s own story was entangled within each movement she made. However, she did feel the shift in the cool night air as she finished her performance, it sent a shiver down her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end, her breath catching in her throat for a fraction of a second as a sudden chill gripped her heart, she could practically feel his fingers enveloping the hilt of his own blade without even looking.

It did not escape her, how much danger she was in at that very moment, she could feel the way his gaze pierced her flesh, the way it burned with a slurry of emotion. In that moment she would cast a silent prayer to any god that was willing to listen, the grip she held on the blade lent to her tightening, serving as a warning to the samurai, her way of telling him that she would take up arms against him if he pushed her.

Yoriichi was no warrior, she would not consider herself anything of the sort, she was a woman of the cloth, devoted to the gods, mind, soul, and body. She only wielded her power in defense, she had little interest in war, in power, or any lord that a man such as himself would stand beside. Many of men had come to the temple gates, urging her to bow to the will of their own lords, threatening to burn her home, threatening to take her life, but she would never bend to the will of man for she only answered to the divine.

He was bearing down on her within the blink of an eye, though or her it seemed slower, still, she had twisted her slender form just in time to catch his blade against her own, the force sliding her feet back against the gravel as she dug her heels in, her smaller body not faltering under the immense force of his assault. With the gentle click of her tongue she would push back, her eyes meeting his as she pushed with all her force, tilting her own blade so it would slide along his own, the sound of metal against metal? ringing throughout the clearing as her blade cut its own path straight for his throat.

Luckily for him, her own skills had not been polished and refined as her predecessor, she was slow in comparison.

He watched her with great interest, his eyes narrowed, his crimson gaze taking in every detail of her form, the way she held herself, the way she moved. Her grace was unmatched, her movements fluid and precise, like a dance that had been choreographed by the gods themselves. He had seen many fighters in his long life, but none had moved quite like this miko, this lady. There was something almost otherworldly about her, something that called to the ancient spirit that dwelt within him. As she danced with the blade he had provided, he could not help but feel a sense of pride, not in a patronizing way, but in a way that a master might feel for a promising pupil. Her movements were not those of a mere priestess, but of a warrior, a guardian of the sacred. He had seen enough battles to recognize the scent of blood that clung to her, the same scent that clung to him. Yet, she had chosen to walk a different path, to serve the gods in her own way, and he found that admirable.

“Hm …”

He watched her with rapt attention, his heart pounding in his chest as the dance unfolded before him. He knew what he was seeing; it was the sun breathing, the very technique that his brother had mastered, the one that had brought peace to the world once. It was a dance that was as fiery and unrelenting as the sun itself, and yet here it was, performed in the moonlit courtyard of a forgotten temple by the last person he would have expected. The sight of it brought a mix of emotions: anger, regret, and a strange sense of awe. Anger at the audacity of someone other than his brother to wield it, regret that he had failed to protect the very essence of his family’s legacy, and awe at the sheer beauty of it. The blade she held glinted in the moonlight, each arc and strike a silent declaration of her power, and he felt his envy flare up once again.

How could she, a human, a priestess, wield something so pure, so powerful?

He took a step back, his hand coming to rest on the hilt of his own sword, the one that had claimed so many lives. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, trying to discern the truth behind her actions. How had she come to know such a technique? It was something that was meant for the eyes of his line alone, a secret that had been erased from the land by his own hands, and now it was here, in the hands of this delicate human.

His mind was racing with questions and doubt. He had not felt this way in centuries, not since the days when he had first laid eyes on his brother, the one who had been born to surpass him, the one who had taken everything from him. He could feel his breath quicken, his pulse race, and a strange warmth spread through his cold, dead heart. It was not lust, nor was it desire; it was something far more primal, he felt … anger. A crack in himself, as if he was ready to snap at any moment and let the facade he had built around himself shatter into shards of glass and be what he really was, a demon.

“Impressive …”

He said as he would need this, he wanted this, he had to have it, any calmness about himself was cracking at the brass of it all, the pure nerve for her to have this power, as he moved quickly, his blade out as he crossed his blade with her own with such force that any normal human, there legs would have shattered, there arms would have bent in the wrong direction and there sword would have been cut in half along with themselves as he crossed his blade with her own.

[sunsblaze]

This was no film set…that would be a harsh reality she would have to come to face with time.

The flash of pink had caused him some surprise- at first he had simply believed it to be the demon’s blood art until the pink chains wrapped themselves around the demon, keeping it rooted in place. Had it been the work of the woman he had come to aide? Yoriichi’s curiosity had been sparked for he had never seen a human do anything like she had- materialize something from thin air, it made him wonder about who exactly she was.

As she lowered herself down onto the damp earth he would turn his body to face her, kneeling at her side, a comforting hand moving to her shoulder, though he would take caution and put no pressure behind his touch, he could see she was injured and did not wish to cause any further pain. “There is no need to thank me,” he began, his voice steady, yet gentle, “That was a demon.” The man would be blunt, not sugarcoating the truth of the matter, he could see no point in telling lies.

Her clothing was strange, he had never seen anything quite like them before, where had she come from? How had she ended up here…alone?

“Try not to move too much, your injuries are severe,” his hand would tuck between the layers he wore, pulling out a small cloth before he would retrieve a small bamboo canteen from a pouch he had at his hip, pouring some of the water from it onto the cloths before he gently began dabbing some of the blood from her head.

This night had proved to be quite uneventful thus far, though most were ever since the sun breather had come face to face with the demon king, he no longer received official missions as a slayer, not since his exile from the corps. These past months since had been…difficult, Yoriichi aimlessly wandered around Japan for he no longer had a home, most of his comrades had turned their backs on him and some had even wished his death, but worst of all, his brother's betrayal weighed heavily on his soul. He had become a demon, turned his back on their dream, and he had taken the life of their master.

It was shameful.

They had trusted him.

Little could be done about it now.

The weary traveler allowed his feet to guide him down the worn path that weaved through the mountainside, the sound of rocks and leaves being crushed underfoot echoing through the darkness, he knew somewhere along this path lay a shrine, he had encountered it before and had spent a night there to rest and now he had the same plans, he would stop, offer his prayers, have a meal, and rest for a few hours. Even a man like himself needed rest, he was still human after all.

Soon the silence of the night would be interrupted as the sounds of a struggle rung out through the trees, the screams of a woman, followed by that inhuman howling, it was unmistakable, there was a demon near and something- or someone was about to become its latest victim. That would not do. Lucky for the young woman, help was not far and the man who would come to her aid held the only thing that could stop that beast for good.

Calloused fingers wrapped firmly around the golden hilt, unsheathing the obsidian colored blade in one swift movement as the young man found himself weaving past trees with an almost godly speed, he refused to be too late again, refused to let another die when there was something he could do about it. He would save as many as he could, he would rid the world of any demon he faced and he would do it for her.

The scene he arrived to was one he had seen many times before over the past years, a creature, once human, twisted, its very nature perverted by tainted blood- the blood of that man. It stood before a woman- a foreigner, he found it quite strange to see an English woman here, the country had still been closed, mostly isolated from the rest of the world. The sun breather didn’t ponder on the matter for long, there was little time to waste.

It was all over in a literal flash, the air around them suddenly becoming warm, it was as if the sun itself had came out in the dead of night and struck the demonic creature down, its head detaching from its shoulders as it began crumbling away into ash. It was hard to tell what exactly had occurred, no one stood before Samantha, it felt as if she were alone until the sound of metal sliding against wood sung from behind her as Yoriichi sheathed his blade once again.

“I apologize I did not arrive sooner,” a low, baritone voice called out from behind the ginger. “I see you have been injured.” He would turn to asses the woman properly, using his view into the transparent world to check for internal injuries she might have suffered.

[sunsblaze]

He couldn’t help it, curiosity had gotten the best of him, now he sat beside the medicine seller, his hands resting politely in his lap, the blade that usually rested at his hip was now placed carefully to the side.

“Likewise,” he returned the sentiment, his voice gentle, holding a deep warmth. Yoriichi could feel the other’s gaze upon the flame like marks that painted his face, though he did not mind, for many people stared at such a bizarre marking. Most saw the mark as a blessing, but to him it felt like a curse more than anything, it had caused much of the anguish in his life.

“I came due to the rumors circulating, still, I was not sure of the truth until I arrived. I can feel the unrest…in the floors, the walls.”

The ferocious roar of thunder echoed through the inky night as the clouds gave way to a rain most fierce, the heavy drops coming down like a monsoon, saturating the earth beneath the demon slayer’s sandals, each step he took drawing him closer to the quaint mountain inn, the light serving as a beacon in the bleak darkness. This inn, it was the only source of salvation for miles, the only place for a weary traveler to rest their head, though…it was not why the mysterious man had sought it out.

There was much work to be done.

A shiver rattled the man’s body as the chill of the rain settled deep within his bones, the harsh winds whipping the crimson fabric of his haori as he pushed himself through the sliding doors and into the welcoming warmth of the lobby, a calloused hand raising to push soaked strands of fiery raven hair from his face as he approached the inn keeper. The conversation was short and to the point, ended as the warrior placed coins upon the desk, guaranteeing his spot for the night.

The old man who stood behind the counter would take the coins, tucking them away before stepping from behind the counter to lead the towering man through the halls, though as they padded down the hall they crossed paths with a man who was quite peculiar, so much so that the slayer would turn his head as to catch a better glimpse of the colorful figure, his own steps ceasing.

How curious.

Who was @micsmasmuses?