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17wishbones · 3 years

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Here is Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2). I low-key cried writing this because, wow, I really do love this Flame Hashira so so so so so so much. I got a bit distracted reading other fanfiction and all that but here comes the second part. Now, this has spoilers from the manga/movie, so get to watching it as soon as possible. However, if you don’t mind it, go ahead and have a read! Please enjoy!

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Chapter VII: War’s End (Part 2)

Bright rays of the sun beat down on you as you stood before the oceanfront. The wind blew through your locks and along your skin. In your hands was a net and a few fish caught in them. You ogled them with a tight squint. ‘I know this handwork-’

“_____! _____!”

Your eyes widen. “That can’t be. . .” You slowly turned around and was blessed with a beautiful sight. “Mother? Father? You’re both. . .” Tears flowed like a river as you tackled them in an overdue embrace. You couldn’t swallow the sorrow that crept over your body when you thought to have lost them.

“We’re both what? Other than waiting for you to come home?” Your father was a tall man, standing halfway over six foot. His thick dreads touched the small of his back and his salt and pepper beard filled out his face. He was a handsome man still.

“You must be thirsty, _____. Come on in and drink. You’ve caught enough fish to last us a while.” Your mother was a beauty herself. She had a clean shaven head, a strong jawline, and the legs of an Amazon.

They stood tall while you remained short. You didn’t receive the end of the tall gene pool but that didn’t make you any harder to love, even though they joked about your height all the time. The two of them loved you so much.

Your mother, Oolade, wiped your tears away as your father, Uzoma, got the net of fish from the shore. “We shall eat as kings and queens together!” He shouted. “Look at the bounty our daughter has gathered!”

“I am proud of you, my sweet _____.”

“Mother, Father, please, you are embarrassing me!” You laughed. “Kyōjurō would love nothing more than to meet you both.”

“Kyōjurō?” They both questioned in unison.

“Oh.” Your mind went blank a moment. ‘Why did I say that? Kyōjurō? Who-who is that? His name sounds familiar.’

“Never mind that. Come.” You didn’t even think twice as you followed your mother to your quaint house on the shore that your father built by hand. It was just as you remembered.

“Oolade found some wild rice to make with as well. We’re going to have a feast!”

‘What was I even doing before? I must have been daydreaming.’ There was no questioning this surreal feeling as your parents showered you with love and laughter.

Overwhelmed with a sense of unbridled joy, you thought to never leave him.

You blinked. ‘Him?’ You questioned blankly. ‘Who is this him?’

Time had passed but the scenery didn’t change. “Hey, I’m going to step outside for some air.”

“Hurry back so that you may bless the food before we feast.” Your parents’ smiles, even though forever imprinted in your mind, suddenly dulled in comparison to the image of this fiery man.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes. You slowly opened them and saw an outlined path towards the woods. You instinctively followed it to a rip into another space. You gasped aloud as you caught a young child making their way to this shining orb floating within a bundle of sunflowers.

The child turned to you, frightened and with the needle pointing towards you. They were sweating and shaking with fear.

“What are you doing here?”

“How did you find me!? You’re not supposed to be able to enter into your own unconsciousness!”

“It’s mine… isn’t it?” You took a step forward.

“_____? _____!” Oolade and Uzoma came running toward the border with sadness filling their eyes. “What are you doing? Come back!”

“_____, don’t leave us!”

You didn’t heed their words, but their voices wretched your heart. “You plan to do something? For what cost?”

“Destroying your core will allow me to sleep peacefully and see my family again!”

“And that’s the best way to go about it?” You ignored their calls as you pressed forward towards the child. “Your good dream will end and so shall you succumb to your pain.” Your eyes softened. “You will die a sad death. To a demon.”

“How do you know how I feel!? You just had a good dream!”

“A bittersweet dream. My parents have long since passed. They no longer live in this world. Even this cannot bring them back forever or give me peace.”

The child backed up until he was just a footstep away from your core. “Come any closer and I’ll do it!”

You stopped your approach and knelt down, holding your arms out. “Then you choose. Live your life or succumb to an eternal slumber?”

The child had wanted a good dream of his family, to be happy, but when he saw the look on your face, the look of pain and suffering from even getting a glimpse of what life could have been with them spread over your face.

He dropped the needle and ran to you full throttle, crying his heart out as he embraced you tight around your neck.

This was the right thing to do. Even as good as the dream would be, it would hurt all the more to have it taken away.

The faux warmth of the child disappeared and your eyes fluttered open to an ungodly sight that made you want to throw up.

“What the hell!?” You stood on top of flesh. “Intestines!?”

Rengoku flashed past you by one moment and returned the next. “You’re awake, Sunflower!”

“Did the demon become a train!?”

“So it seems, yes! Kamado and Hashibira are going for the neck. Our job—”

“Is to protect the passengers at all costs.”

“Nn! You take care of this cart and I’ll do the other four!”

“Just one?”

“Your safety is of utmost importance! Aid Golden Boy and the Demon girl as needed!” He kissed you quiet before dashing off in a blaze, hushing your protests.

“That man…” you drew your Nichirin blade, “Is so…” your short dash in the cart made easy work of the disgusting, fleshy tendrils, “Annoying!” But you couldn’t argue with his command or logic. He was sound in the midst of danger.

What you did was light work, and by the looks of it, Zenitsu and Nezuko had the other three sorted as Tanjiro and Inosuke ran for the front of the train. You hummed, slightly irritated at your position. You were getting into none of the action, but you knew how fast Rengoku and Zenitsu were moving by the back and forth teetering of the carts.

‘This train could topple at any moment, especially with all of this monstrous bulk. So, there’s no telling when it’ll--’ A shrill filled the air, disorienting you as the train of muscle crumpled up and fell right off the track. If it weren’t for the demon’s flesh and that Demon Slayer footwork, people onboard would have been seriously injured.

You checked those in your assigned cart and then where Zenitsu and Nezuko were. “Are you guys alright?”

“Mm, mm!” Nezuko nodded as you came over to the slightly slumped Zenitsu.

“Great!” You took him by the shoulders and started shaking him away. “Zenitsu? Zenitsu! Wake up!” He was still asleep, but he only incurred very few injuries as Nezuko had. “At least you two are alright. You really held your own, Nezuko. I’m a little jealous I didn’t get to help out much at all.”

Nezuko, no matter if tired or full of spunk, was just a beauty to look at. You understood why Zenitsu was so smitten with her though he feigned himself a well-groomed ladies man. She offered a soft sound as a response before she leaned up against you.

Parts of the demon’s body slowly faded from existence, leaving now broken windows with an open view to the outside. Rengoku stood over Tanjiro, instructing him as he laid on the ground. Nezuko picked up her brother’s scent and slowly headed outside. Zenitsu followed her sleepily as you grabbed a few people and exited yourself.

Suddenly, the earth shook and dust flew everywhere as something else landed unto the field. You couldn’t believe your own eyes! The aura spiked high as it circled around the tattoo-marked Upper Moon demon. The shine in those eyes were as hungry, monstrous, and devilish as their appearance.

In the blink of an eye, he was just moments away from striking Tanjiro. “Fire Breathing! Second Form! Rising Scorching Sun!” Rengoku’s quick thinking saved him. “I don’t understand why you’d target a wounded person.”

“I thought he’d just get in the way between you and me.”

You froze. You had never seen a demon so fast like this one. It was just as scary as that time in Asakusa. The aura you ingested made you run on instinct, quelling the thoughts of fear or nervousness.

This one looked too toxic. You’d be sick for days. Not to mention, this demon only had eyes for Rengoku.

“You and I have something to talk about? It’s our first time meeting and I already hate you.” Rengoku replied.

“Is that so?” Akaza mused. “I really hate weak humans,” in terms of Tanjiro and others, “When I look at weaklings, I just feel disgusted.”

“It looks like you and I have different moral values in regards to things.”

“I see. Then I have a wonderful proposal. How about you become a demon, too?”

“No chance.” Rengoku declined.

“I know your strength just by looking at you. You’re a pillar, right?” Akaza’s interest in Rengoku shined through his symbolic eyes. “Your battle spirit is quite polished. You’re getting close to Supreme Territory.”

“I am the Fire Hashira, Rengoku Kyōjurō.”

“And I’m Akaza.”

They both exchanged names but withheld their stances. Akaza came to kill and eat any humans as well as convert the strongest ones into those he could. However, no matter the strength, Rengoku was defiant in every sense of the matter when it came to slaying demons and protecting the weak who could not fight for themselves.

But you weren’t out of the clear, however. “Ah, seems like I have a two for one deal.” To your chagrin, the demon noticed you next. “Why don’t you consider becoming a demon, too?” He saw your spirit as well, one with potential of being his punching bag. “As a demon, you can become stronger. That wonderful sword style of yours will keep on improving and we can fight forever! Otherwise, you’ll never reach Supreme Territory and do you know why?”

Silence.

“Because you’re human. Because you’ll grow old. Because you’ll die.” Akaza pointed his finger at Rengoku. “Become a demon, Kyōjurō. You can train for a hundred years. Two hundred years. You can become stronger.”

His face grew dark as he pointed at the likes of everyone in the vicinity, truly disgusted by what he saw before him. Rengoku looked none too pleased with you inserted into the situation. ‘Don’t worry, _____. I will protect you, the children, everyone! Nobody here will die or turn into a demon while I still stand!’ He felt overprotective over you, and found it fit to fulfill his duty not only as a demon slayer, but as a man.

Rengoku couldn’t stand that look of dread and worry filling your eyes. “Growing old and dying is the beauty of the fleeting creature called a human being. Because they grow old. Because they die. They are tremendous. Lovable. What they call ‘strength’ isn’t a word that is used in regards to the body.” He wouldn’t let Akaza spout such untrue words. “This boy isn’t weak. Don’t insult him. I’ll say it over and over again. You and I have different moral values.” His sunset eyes widen menacingly. “No matter what kind of motivation I have, I will not become a demon.”

“I see.” Akaza stanced. “Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Compass Needle!” Akaza prepared to fight. “If you won’t become a demon, then I’ll kill you!”

Air waves and flames lit up the area as both Rengoku and Akaza moved at blinding speeds. Pillar versus Upper Moon. You were stuck in place, unable to move. The sudden gravity of the situation skyrocketed and your body froze. Your breath shifted, becoming uneven and quick.

“DON’T MOVE!! If your wounds open, it’ll be fatal! Standby, soldier!!”

Rengoku’s serious voice brought you back, but he demanded no one interfered. Inosoke, who stood at Tanjiro’s side, felt helpless.

It was an explosion of power that erupted, and emerging from the dusty cocoon was an unscathed, healed Akaza and a battered Rengoku. “Kyōjurō…?” His blood-soaked uniform recalled his humanity, his mortality. You were in a state of distress.

Akaza praised him, and employed the idea of becoming a demon, where all his wounds, his crushed eye, and his organs would heal in moments. He’d become stronger, faster, and more powerful than before, but the answer was still no.

Rengoku raised his blade and stared on with a dazzling, one-eyed smile. “I will fulfill my duties! I won’t let anyone die here!”

“You really should become a demon so that we can fight for all eternity!”

“Full Focus Breathing. Flame Breathing. Esoterica. Ninth Style: Purgatory!”

“Technique Deployment. Destructive Kill: Obliteration Style!”

They clashed in one final blow, and the results after the dust cleared terrorized you with your unknown and worst fears.

Akaza punched through Rengoku who held his blade upright. It was but a second before he tightened his grip and slashed at Akaza’s neck which surprised the demon. Rengoku, even as death approached him, remained resilient as he caught Akaza’s other hand, tightened his innards around his arm, and dug his blade further across. As the demon screamed for release, Rengoku screamed for his defeat.

“INOSUKE, MOOOOVE!!! MOVE FOR RENGOKU-SAN!!!”

Tanjiro’s shout broke you from your shock. Opportunity to strike was now or never. At the speed they ran, they wouldn’t reach Akaza as he struggled for release as the sun was due to rise.

‘Full Focus Breathing. Fire breathing. First form: Unknowing Fire!’

It was a split second decision that made all the difference, and thanks to Inosuke. As Akaza panicked upon seeing Inosuke preparing to jump, Akaza suddenly felt weightless below. ‘What? My legs!’

Inosuke stopped just in time, leaving the final slash to Rengoku who pushed with all of his might and brought his searing blade through Akaza’s neck.

“You sneaky bit— oh no! The sun! I have to go, I have to— AHHHH!!”

Dawn broke over the horizon and Akaza’s body disintegrated.

“Kyōjurō!” You helped him to his knees, seeing the condition that he was in. “You’re hurt. Maybe if we can get you bandaged up, we can—”

“I’m sorry, My Sunflower. My stomach won’t close. I will die very soon.” He turned and addressed Tanjiro. “Kamado, my boy. Let’s have a final chat.”

Tanjiro ran over, huffing as tears stained his cheeks. “Rengoku-san, don’t talk too much! Help will be here soon. Just hold on!”

“Just listen to me. Return to the Rengoku Estate. There should be notes about the ‘Dance of the Fire God’. My father read them many times. I didn’t read them myself, however, so I don’t know what’s inside them. And for the both of you, tell Senjuro to pursue the path that he thinks is right, as his heart tells him to. And tell my father to take care of his body. And also...” He leaned in. “Kamado, my boy, I believe in your sister. I accept her as a member of the Demon Slayers.”

Droplets of water dripped from Tanjiro’s big eyes.

“I saw that girl protect the humans inside the train despite bleeding out. Those that protect humans and fight demons are Demon Slayers, no matter what anyone else says. Live with your chest high. You, Hashibira, Golden Boy, and her will become great pillars.” His attention finally landed on you.“My Sunflower.” He weakly raised his blood-smeared hand, touching your cheek. “Never give up. I will be watching over you.”

Rivers flowed down your desolate face. “Wait for me over the bridge when I cross. And meet me in the next life.” You found his hands and held them in yours. “I-I l-” Words became lost as you choked on every letter, unable to contain the sadness corrupting your mind and heart.

It hurt him to see you like this, and it devastated him more that he wouldn’t be able to comfort you and grow old together. “My life flashed before my eyes and my most wonderful memories were of you. Your warm smile, your touch, your praises, it makes me more determined than ever to be with you wherever we may go or be.”

The last thing he’d feel was your lips on his, stained with his blood. “I’ll never forget you, Kyōjurō!” You said with as much enthusiasm as you could. “I-I love you!”

Rengoku couldn’t help but to smile. “I love you, too, My Sunflower. Set your heart ablaze. . .”

“And move forward.”

Rengoku peered past you and Tanjiro, spotting a familiar shape. ‘Mother?’ You and Tanjiro looked back but saw nothing. But an enveloping aura past you two and surrounded Rengoku. ‘Did I do everything right? Was I able to fulfill everything I was supposed to carry out?’

‘You did a wonderful job.’ A smile to him, a smile to her, and his head drooped. His body rested peacefully in your arms and his fiery aura dispersed as it was no more.

‘Kyōjurō!’ You were too choked up as you sobbed loudly and ugly. Your heart ached just like it had when your parents were eaten by demons.

Your world darkened, stained in your tears and his blood. What was this victory worth now that he was gone?

It was worth every saved life here, and you knew that. It was going to weigh on your heart how you didn’t help him sooner, but his face discouraged you. He took the brunt of Akaza’s assault and held on until the very end.

You mourned over him from that day and weeks later. No one had seen you since the Mugen Train incident. Rengoku had done so much to keep everyone safe, taking his last breath on the battlefield. It had been a hard pill to swallow, one that you had not fully been accepting of even though you were there to see him off.

Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu, and Nezuko missed seeing you around. And especially Senjuro, but you needed to separate yourself and become better. You were no use to anyone lying on your back and crying your eyes out.

With the Nichirin blade in your possession, you carried on silently with a memory of him attached at your hip. His haori? Cleaned, pressed, and framed on the wall. For as long as you lived, his legend would be immortalized. On your shoulders, you carried the burden of loss. Sometimes, it’d hurt so much, your chest would heave and you’d clutch part of your left breast, where the pain ran deep as tears stung your eyes.

You left Senjuro with a kind yet sad smile as you didn’t want to hear the ugly mutterings of his father’s distant, drunk voice. His aura dripped in a drab blue, his melancholy nature surely melting at the loss of not only his wife but now his eldest son.

You hadn’t forgotten about those you loved. You’d be back for them. - - - - - - - - - - Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

#rengoku kyojuro x reader #rengoku x you #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyōjurō #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer #demon slayer fanfic

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brief-candle · 5 years

Text

ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴠᴏᴡ - Kyoujurou Rengoku & Muzan Kibutsuji

just........ two more..............

tbh i don’t even know what i’m doing on this site bc none of my posts appear in the tags so i’m just hardcore plugging on my quotev because i gotta do what i gotta do y’know?

series: demon slayer/ kimetsu no yaiba

notes: little to no yandere (mayhaps if you squint you can see some?), major character death, male reader, angst, stuff that probably makes 0 sense, angst, the muzan x reader you have to squint for, most likely ooc, angst.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The rain didn't seem as if it were ever going to stop that day. Tiny droplets littered the streets endlessly, falling from a sea of murky grey which hung in the sky longer than anyone would have liked. It only seemed to enhance the bitter cold and dubious darkness of that alley.

I remember that alley well, with crumbling cobbled floors and walls with jagged cracks that ran up them like crevasses. Fading greys that mixed with the sky, painting the world in monochromatic misery. People hurrying to seek shelter, not sparing a second glance at anyone who didn't have the same options. Humans truly were miserable creatures. This world of grey truly suited them.

But it didn't suit him. As soon as I met his eyes, I knew they would be my doom.

Golden irises like melted honey, or freshly made butterscotch. Those were the first things I saw, and were what I kept returning to. Even the charm of his strangely coloured hair couldn't grasp my attention from those eyes. A soft amber hue with the intensity of the strongest fires behind them. From the second I saw them, I was utterly smitten. Even if it was forbidden by all means, and could never be forgiven by neither humans nor demons, these feelings only festered with time.

He took me in off the streets, with all knowledge of what I was. I wasn't sure how, or more importantly why, he would do such a thing, but I quickly learned that I would never quite understand Kyoujurou. How he would smile as he talked of his upcoming wedding, yet couldn't hide the dimming of the vibrancy that was so common in his eyes. It tugged at the heart that I thought had long ceased existing. Not only to hear of him being promised to another, but also to see such a crestfallen look in those eyes that had gained my affection.

I knew it could never be. Truly, I did. For not only was I a demon and he a human, but we were also two men. We could never marry, even if these sinful feelings of mine were reciprocated. It was disgusting for me to be most ashamed of this, considering the heinous things I've done up until this point. The countless people I've murdered to please a man of my past. Before, I believed that perhaps I loved him. However the heart is a fickle thing, and so betrayed that emotion almost as quickly as I had betrayed him. Fleeing without any notice, I wound up in that very alleyway and discovered true love just hours later.

Yes, true love. True love that could never be, with so many barriers between us. From every meeting between Kyoujurou and his betrothed, it was obvious that neither were interested. I believe that was what hurt the most, the fact that the main thing keeping me from confessing these wretched feelings was born out of convenience, rather than any form of love. They were incompatible in every meaning of the word, with her iciness putting a damper on his usual flame of excitement. Only in those situations did those flames simmer down into a mere ember, only to spark up again in her absence.

"Do you not enjoy the Lady's presence?" I had once approached the subject in a voice full to the brim of faux dispassion.

He attempted to laugh his usual hearty laugh, but it was almost as false as my previous question's tone. Afterwards, paying no attention to this, he returned with another question: "Why do you ask that?"

His voice held a slight tremble to it, one of nervousness. This was unlike him, so unlike him that this alone evoked in me a strong distaste for the woman.

'Your smile never seems as bright.'

'Your tone is completely different when answering her.'

'Your posture makes it obvious.'

'Your eyes lose their usual warmth.'

These statements, all equally true and clawing at my throat to be said, never came. They hung back, caged in through a tightened jaw and rows of razor teeth. Teeth that had devoured many, and would probably devour many more. And those words would suffer the same fate.

I continued with my task for a minute or so, which was to clean the windows during the night. Looking for something more suitable, I stared at my reflection. Sharp features, dangerous cat-like eyes with a colour that didn't match the softness of Kyoujurou's in any way, shape or form.

It disgusted me, reminded me of what I was. And so instead of speaking the truth to him, which was the least he'd deserved for all his kindness, I turned away from both the window and him.

"A hunch."

He seemed relieved to hear that, as well as chipper that I seemed to understand him like that. But he didn't express that in words, but admitted that he didn't hold any affection for that woman. He wasn't enthusiastic in doing so, but it certainly raised my spirits as well as my guilt. If he could trust me with something so personal as his negative view of his betrothed, then he must certainly hold me in high regard. As someone trustworthy. Yet I couldn't even return such a thing.

As days passed, the wedding drew nearer. And so we had to run around to find the best suits, best flowers, best everything for when the horrid day arrived. Each night I lay awake, never needing to sleep but seeking it more than ever, feeling each day that passed like weights on my chest. Every night I lay there, thinking: 'tomorrow will be the day; I'll confess tomorrow'.

However, every 'tomorrow' came and went like each of the 'tomorrow's before it. With unannounced feelings like chains that tightened around my heart with each sunrise that I cowered from.

Until finally, that 'tomorrow' came.

The confession was hard, and one without words. It was messy, in the heat of the moment, and more human than I'd been in hundreds of years. Vulnerable, weak, pathetic and a complete failure.

Those beautiful eyes of his looked so shocked and cold in that moment, like the melted honey had finally set and would never soften again. Even a thousand blades would hurt less than that moment, and perhaps would make me wish to disappear completely less. So when he pushed me away after I had kissed him, I turned to do exactly that.

I ran away.

It was impossible to not look back, and I did it several times. Wishing that I hadn't done that, so I could have lived on with my life even with those unspoken feelings weighing down on my shoulders. Even if I'd had to show up to the wedding and pretend to be happy, when inside it'd feel like I was being slowly torn apart. To wish for his happiness, even though I knew such a thing was unattainable for such an incompatible couple. Because at least then I could still be near him, and could still be there for him to tell anything to. For him to let out stress through words, or to simply chat with and rekindle his infamous enthusiasm with.

However I'd ruined it all in an act of selfish indulgence, of thoughtlessness. Thrown the relationship that we had cultivated into the gutter in a moment of poor judgement.

Though I wasn't sure what I had thought in the first place by doing so. For in kissing him, I had a vain hope that he would accept these cursed feelings of mine, and we could live happily. However reality is cruel, and so crushed that dream as soon as I had hoped for it, out of spite for my very existence.

When I had stopped running for a moment, it allowed for my thoughts to make themselves known. How perhaps if I was a human, it would all be fine. How perhaps if I was not a man, then it would all be fine. For if Kyoujurou was allowed to marry a human girl, then of course he could not love someone who was the very opposite of this.

Even with the mistake born from my passion fresh in mind, my heart still yearned for more. It yearned to be loved by the man with the beautiful eyes, for perhaps then I would discover both the truest form of love and the truest form of happiness. For only a taster of these had been given to me from being just a friend to this man, which left me wanting more. It was the forbidden fruit, and a trap that I would fall into with open arms. To taste the forbidden fruit, one must first sell their soul to the devil.

And so that is what I did.

The devil willingly took my soul with the broadest of smiles, offering what I wanted for something that he deemed of equal value. To love Kyoujurou without being punished by neither man nor those who feed on them, the thing I must offer would have to be of immense value. However that didn't matter to me at that moment of greed, for my mind was too cluttered to consider any consequences.

Upon encountering Kyoujurou again, the consequences were clear as day. All of the apathy I'd felt towards the idea of any sort of consequences had been replaced with intense sorrow when I met him again; to him, it truly was the first time that we had met, for the thing that the devil decided was of equal value was the treasured memories of our time together. Mine were still intact, but I couldn't decide whether I would have preferred it if they hadn't, for I fear that the tears that threatened the lip of my eyelids were all too obvious.

I wondered if he noticed that look in my eyes when I first met him in that alleyway. The look of awe when looking into his eyes was mirrored in his own, so much so that he barely looked away from them. It wasn't even a minute later that he left the bouquet of freshly cut roses behind. When I saw them, that was when I realised the day.

It was his wedding day.

I wasn't sure whether it was relief that I was just in time, happiness when he embraced me or the lingering sadness that forced the tears down my cheeks. However the second of those listed seemed to win when he didn't pull away from our second kiss. Or our third. Or when we went further.

It was bittersweet, really, to think that he may have never loved the real me, rather than this beautiful shell that harboured all of the best features from my previous form. The thought of him only being interested with this new body of mine left me feeling sick to my stomach, however when he spoke to me those feelings were cast aside completely.

"It's comforting to talk to you," he'd said, "it's like I've known you for a long time."

When he added that onto his original statement, all clues of what to respond with vanished. I was left speechless, utterly astounded, and once more on the verge of tears. His gaze, which was on me, seemed so distant and far away, as if trying to recall something that evades you the more you struggle to grasp it.

I swallowed, exhaled softly, and let out a chuckle that sounded more like a choked bark than anything else. It was an ugly sound, one which I stifled my cringing from with a placid, "that is rather strange... but I'm flattered you feel that way."

To speak like a lady was tiring and required too much thought. Where before I could speak to him however I liked, as the other gender it would be considered rude and crass to do so. Such a thing could drive him away from me again, and that was perhaps what I feared the most.

Perhaps in some aspect he still remembered the time that we'd spent together. Comments like 'you could pass for a boy' from him didn't seem all that offensive to me, considering the context of my situation. Any other woman would have felt disgusted and put-off by such a declaration, but it was hard to feel that way when the thing that I could 'pass for' was what I originally was. Besides, it lay seed for a small flower of hope to begin to bloom in your chest, lay way for hope that perhaps he would gradually begin to remember all the time you'd spent together and all you'd trusted each other with before you'd messed it all up.

But time never allowed for that.

As time moved on, another figure moved into the small lives you'd made for yourselves. You were content, growing to be at some form of peace with your situation before someone from the past emerged.

"Give them to me." He had said, voice like silk yet tone like the sharpest of daggers as he gave his demand. As haughty as I'd remembered, and as beautiful.

"Why?" Kyoujurou's smile never left his face, even in a situation as tense as this. He had no clue what was happening here, or why. The guilt began to eat at me again, for if it wasn't for my selfishness, he wouldn't have to be in such a situation anyway. He wouldn't be standing there in between me and the man, shielding me from him. Though Kyoujurou was no fool (he could tell what was a demon and what wasn't from a mile off), he still voluntarily put himself there.

Though I tried to intercept, to convince Kyoujurou to back down from the rising tensions, he didn't allow it in the slightest, only turning to me with that same smile and the same soft eyes that I adored: "there's no need to be worried, I'll keep you safe."

Even still, I wanted to protest, to cry out that his safety was much more important than mine. However the coldness of the intruder's voice cut off any attempt of that.

"You don't need to know that. All you need to know is that I'll take them either way, except if you resist then you'll wind up dead."

To see him here was both shocking and something I dreaded since the moment I'd fled those many months ago. However I wasn't expecting it now, after all this time. It was foolish of me not to, but I just didn't. I found it much easier and much more enjoyable to indulge in the simple and happy lifestyle, where Kyoujurou and I were the only people in the world.

But out of us, soon it would just be I in the world.

The blood was escaping faster than I could try and slow it to give it time to clot. There was so much; it painted my palms and the outside of my hands, staining my face as I stressed as to how to save him. How could I save him? Could I even save him- was it possible? Was this the hand of fate once more, bringing wrath down upon those who dare to taste the forbidden fruit of love between two people that could never be? Was fate serving justice to me, taking away this man's life as revenge for me ruining it? For tempting him away using the foulest of methods from the life he had been given to live?

Such a cruel thing is something I cannot allow. Not if it results in his death.

Yet no matter how much I tried, what I used to soak up the blood and put pressure on the wound, it just wouldn't stop pouring out. Futile tears emerged once more, as if to evoke some pity from whatever cruel deity was enjoying this image of suffering. Yet even then it wouldn't clot, only slipping through my fingers and staining the ground below him. The ground that would swallow him up if I continued to do next to nothing. But there was nothing I could do! I was no doctor by any means, more used to slaughter than healing.

And so, unable to do anything on my own, I had visited an old friend. One who had helped me out with my poor choices once more.

The devil welcomed me back with open arms and a wide grin, as he had first welcomed me before.

I felt the very structure of my being begin to change. A process so painful that I wanted to scream, though sharpening teeth kept them locked within.

He asked for what I had returned.

My internal structure was tearing itself down only to rebuild itself again.

I asked him, with no hesitation: "is it possible to undo my wish?"

But I could feel it, underneath fingers that begun to sharpen also-

He affirmed that it was possible, only to question the reason behind why I was curious about such a thing.

-his wound was clotting.

I told him of my situation, a brief rundown so as to not waste any time. It was of the essence here, after all.

Such a feeling caused the flower of hope to bloom once more in my chest; a full bloom, full of beauty and without sin.

Very quickly he caught on, coming up with a solution with astounding speed. Not that it was very surprising.

His eyes, the sun beginning to fade from those golden hues, began to regain their light.

This was the devil, after all.

They were just as beautiful as the first time.

He had proposed the solution to me.

With the bittersweet familiarity now running through them, unsure of whether to smile or cry.

To undo my deal and to, in turn, fulfil a different one.

This was a dilemma I was facing myself.

This time, as it was his life on the line, the price was higher.

So instead of choosing, I settled on both.

As he was in such dire condition also,

This time, he couldn't bring his radiant smile to light up his features.

the price would be my life.

Instead, as I collapsed into his arms, he only cried instead.

And I accepted without a moment's debate.

The embrace he held me in was shaky as his body was wracked with sobbing, the demon who almost stole away his life standing a bit away from us with unimaginable anger across his face. He was yelling, staring outraged right at me. But at this moment, I decided that I couldn't care less, for surely in exchange for an immortal life, even he wouldn't be able to harm Kyoujurou.

'Let's meet again,' I had tried to say, but lacked the breath and the energy to do so. All I could do was hope that he understood as I lost the energy to even stare upwards at the tears escaping from kindling irises.

#kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kyoujurou rengoku x reader #kyoujurou x reader #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #muzan kibutsuji #muzan x reader #kibutsuji x reader #kny muzan

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bffhreprise · 6 years

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Entry 242

I was going to have nightmares tonight. There would be no avoiding nightmares after seeing one in the flesh. Raine’s other form was the single most terrifying thing I had ever seen, or even imagined. The whole room had warped with her, seeming surreal, and her body… the claws… the teeth… those awful spikes… Hadn’t the others felt like they were going to die just looking at her?

“Look, Raine! good as new. Well, save for the missing paint.” amended Emma, who had just finished touching up the ceiling. She seemed fine. She had seen a demon, but was smiling as she watched James pet Raine, now in her kitten form.

“What happened to our ceiling?” demanded one of the twins as she entered the room and followed where Emma pointed with her gaze.

“Nooothing.” claimed Emma after dropping her arms. She looked exceptionally guilty in a faux-innocence sort of way.

“Don’t worry. We’ll bill you for it.” stated the other twin, entering with Jarod and taking in everything with a glance.

James quickly said, “Don’t bother. I’ll touch up your paint, and I’m quite certain the boards are better than new.”

I couldn’t believe his calm. Even when Raine was transformed, he had seemed calm. Now as he casually petted Raine’s head, no one would believe he had a care in the world. Did nothing ever bother him?

“This is probably the strangest practice I’ve seen.” teased Jarod with one of his huge grins.

“Ha! Sure, man. As if you practice with us.” retorted Brandon with another smile.

My brother was always quick to get over things. I knew he had been scared as well. Color had barely returned to his face.

With an even larger grin and a shrug, Jarod said, “True, but I have seen some and don’t recall any involving James petting a kitten while the rest of you watch.”

“Hey! I was fixing a ceiling here, not staring at the adorableness.” insisted Emma in mock outrage.

Apparently not realizing that Emma was speaking, Portentia said over her, “You wouldn’t believe what you missed if we attempted to tell you.”

Cosette laughed with no hint of worry. “I think he really would, but he’d probably be sad he missed it from only hearing.”

“It’s not funny. He wouldn’t want to see.” I told her, but my voice came out in a whisper. Was I really the only one so shaken by this?

,,,^._.^,,,

I strode back into the gymnasium as Brenna whispered about Jarod not wanting to see what had happened. I understood how shaken she was. I was still shaken. There had been no sign that Raine possessed such devastating power. Worse yet, I broke my tenant agreement. Had I actually managed to injure Raine, I would no longer be alive.

As terrifying as Raine was in her other form, I had to agree with James’ assessment about Death. Aaliyah’s voice could make you feel like some intangible place inside was being caressed by a blade. I had seen her actual blade too often already. I hoped not to see that again. Our conversation had seemed to take a long time, but I was cowed enough by the end that I listened to her ramble on about my chocolate factory for minutes at the end.

“I’ll show them anyway.” I announced, firming my resolve and using my fey-born telepathy to replay what I had seen.

Ai and Mai needed to see this, so they would fully understand their complete inability to fight against Raine.

“The kitten has claws, so don’t you three dare push her.” I warned, staring them down. Then I said, “I still have not begun to heal, and I was only scratched. Imagine if she really wanted to kill me.” I then stepped over to James, knelt, and reached for Raine. “May I?”

James had moved his arms protectively around her at first, but he handed her over seconds later.

I carefully cradled the kitten in my hands and whispered “There, there. I’m sorry that I took things too far. I thought to show James that you were quite capable of defending yourself, but I never even considered there could be a reason for you to restrain. Aaliyah… explained... a few things to me, and I won’t push you so far again. Please consider earnestly training with us. Every strength needs the restraint of discipline, and I am quite certain you can learn to control yourself.”

If Raine was as strong as Aaliyah had suggested, having her aiding James was an enormous boon to his company. I had more power than any Slayer’s spawn on record, but Aaliyah had warned that Raine could brush me away by accident if I got her too worked up. What had made Raine so timid?

Looking at all of the eyes on me, I created a spell to gather Raine’s clothing. Then I said, “Well now. Let’s get back to practice, shall we?” Feeling Raine squirm in my hands, I quickly told her “I obviously don’t mean you, Raine, unless you’re feeling up for it. The rest of us, however, cannot afford to slack.”

Most everyone got back to their exercises without a word. Brenna hadn’t moved, so James walked over to her.

“You can take a break today if you want.” he informed her.

“How can you be so calm? Even w-when Alma was hurt, you seemed… relaxed.” she replied, looking at him as if trying to decide what he was.

“I really have seen Death, and nothing short of her seems frightening these days. Besides, I believe that Raine has a good heart. If she really were a monster, she would have started slaughtering us, but she didn’t even cut Alma very deeply. On some level, Raine still didn’t want to hurt anyone.” he explained with one of his gentle smiles.

“She looked so terrifying. Alma’s version of her was scary but nothing compared to the reality. I couldn’t handle looking at her.” insisted Brenna.

I wasn’t surprised. My mental protections had been bombarded by some sort of magic when Raine had transformed.

“Don’t worry. She’s a good kitten.” stated James as he looked into her eyes. “Why don’t you take a walk to the kitchen? Marco would surely love to hear about the development, and I can assure you that his knowledge of sundaes is very extensive.”

Brenna nodded and walked towards the door with a stiffness that showed her unease. That girl had a reasonable amount of talent, despite her fey magic not being useful for combat. If she worked for me, I’d have her trained for espionage, but James wouldn’t part with any of his employees, as he shouldn’t.

,,,^._.^,,,

Wanting to try something, I walked over to Alma and asked “Mind if I attempt to heal you?”

She looked at me in surprise but nodded, maneuvering Raine into her uninjured arm.

I touched her, sending blood through my palms and sensing the magic infecting the wound. I called to it through my blood, gathering it into me. The feeling was exhilarating, similar to Portentia’s blood, though not nearly as potent.

“That’s working! Cosette, you’re incredible.” insisted Alma in surprise.

James joined us, seeming to marvel at the healed flesh as he caressed Alma’s arm.

“Vampires are protectors after all. Looks like my father was right again.” I asserted.

“About what?” questioned James.

“He said that vampires were given their abilities by a demon, so I thought our magic might work to cure a wound from one.” I explained, allowing myself a smug smile.

“Slayer records claim that vampires were given their abilities by a deity.” argued Alma.

“Slayers believe in deities?” asked James in surprise.

“We all came from somewhere.” she told him.

“Even your own records claim that vampires were given a divine mandate, and you still oppose vampires?” I asked incredulously.

“Didn’t you say that you wanted to avoid the politics of Slayers and vampires? You seem quite bias considering your heritage.” retorted Alma. “Vampires were a flawed plan from the start, since they feed on those whom they’re meant to protect.”

I quickly pointed out “But the feeding doesn’t have to be lethal or even dangerous.”

“Yes, but how often is it from many vampires? Great protectors, casually slaughtering the helpless to slake their thirst.” asserted Alma with a slight frown.

“The Slayers aren’t so perfect either.” I told her. “My parents are both dead.”

“Cosette, I am sorry for your loss, but weren’t your parents associated with some less savory sorts?” she questioned

“What? Of course not. I mean, they knew some. How could they not given their lifespan, but… Hang on. How would you know?” I asked, deciding we should get this out in the open.

Alma sighed, obviously not wanting to admit what she did.

“You killed them?” I suggested in a whisper, taking on a look of shock for effect.

Raine jumped to me from Alma’s arm, so I caught her and hugged her, petting her with my fingertips as I stared Alma down.

“Did I just heal my parents’ murderer?” I goaded.

“Yes, and I’ve felt the guilt every day.” she admitted. “James certainly hasn’t let me forget, not that I could. I witnessed a murder and followed the killer back to your parents. I assumed, however wrongly, that your parents were like him.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” I demanded as I looked into James’ eyes. The subject brought up just enough anger that I felt I could look convincing, despite wanting to hug James. I felt his magic working its way through me, despite my nature.

“James is innocent in this. I asked him not to tell you.” insisted Alma in an almost pleading tone.

“No, I’m not innocent. I simply didn’t know how to tell you or even if telling you was the right thing to do.” he argued, looking ashamed.

I giggled, unable to restrain myself any longer. “You two really are the strangest of couples. I’ve known for a while. Aaliyah told me just after I moved here, so you can stop abusing James’ powers, Alma.”

“What? You don’t care?” asked Alma in shock.

“Oh, I had plenty of plots to kill you go through my head. I’m still missing my parents daily. I forgive you. You made a terrible mistake and didn’t even bother attempting to make amends, but I still forgive you. I refuse to be like the Slayers, bent on destroying everything that looks dangerous without thought, and I hope one day you’ll see the error of our family’s ways, but I forgive you for being a slow learner. Now you must forgive me for this, because it’s your own fault. Vive la révolution!” I exclaimed before hugging James with my free arm.

My time here, though brief, had shown me that James was a good person even if he was as fallible as the rest of us. Despite my justly founded misgivings, I felt Alma was at least well-meaning if not entirely good. I could imagine what her family had put her through, training far harsher than my own. My father’s journals had taught me a great deal more of the Slayer family than he ever meant to tell me. Now that this was in the open, I hoped Alma’s guard would drop, so I might get to know her well enough to judge her fairly.

#Best Friend For Hire Reprise #Best #Friend #For #Hire #Reprise #Jovial Times #Jovial #Times #Fantasy #Fiction #Story

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recentanimenews · 3 years

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FEATURE: What Kind of Little Sister is Demon Slayer's Nezuko, Anyways?

Watching Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba as an only-child was a little awkward. Not because I couldn’t sympathize with stories about siblings, but because, frankly, I wasn't expecting such an emotional rollercoaster. Like many stories about siblings bonded by trauma, Demon Slayer's fixation on Tanjiro and Nezuko's relationship makes any conflict feel dramatic. Classics like Hiromu Arakawa’s Fullmetal Alchemist series similarly thrive on escalated sibling feelings — literally spilling blood for each other because of how intense this flavor of kinship gets. However, unlike Fullmetal Alchemist, Demon Slayer isn't solely a brother-in-arms kind of story but something very specific and different. It’s a little sister’s story in a morally ambiguous world.

No Such Thing As Black And White

Nezuko, Demon Slayer’s deuteragonist, is the catalyst for Tanjiro’s demon-slaying adventures. But besides her transformation serving the plot, Nezuko also serves us something else — an unexpected twist on what we've come to expect from the “little sister” or imouto archetype.

"Does Nezuko even need to be here? How is a little girl going to help Tanjiro, really?"

I asked myself these questions after I saw teary-eyed Tanjiro carrying his now demonfied little sister down a mountain in the first episode credits. All that suffering for what — plot devices?

Is Nezuko even relevant to Demon Slayer's world and premise? Short answer: yes. Long answer is yes, again. Because Nezuko is, intentionally or not, partially in-conversation with all the baggage associated with the beloved little sister badge of honor ... trope ... whatever you call it. Before I continue, I'd like to clarify I'm only speaking for Nezuko in season one of the anime, not the manga which concluded serialization last year.

Answering my first question: “Does she even need to be there?” Nezuko’s a demon, the categorical antithesis to the moral boy scout that is Tanjiro. But unlike “evil” demons, Nezuko doesn't eat people. Not because she can't, but because she forcibly abstains from it. In a setting where the dichotomy is seemingly "good" demons versus “bad” demons, Nezuko is a gray anomaly. She complicates the black and white world we naturally presume Tanjiro blindly jumps into. Nezuko makes that world messier, making the stakes all the higher.

S is for Sister, S is for Spectrum

Second to the protagonist, little sisters usually serve a supportive role, even if they’re not blood-related. The imouto is sometimes a precious object to protect — more prize than real heroine. Still, many series play against the type, like Oreimo and Re:ZERO -Starting Life in Another World- where the “little sister” characters charmingly insist on their independence from “big bro.” Even this season, we have anime like So I'm a Spider, So What? and Tokyo Revengers with sister supporting characters — but rarely do we see them in a position as uniquely displaced as Nezuko's.

To answer my other question: “How’s this kid going to help Tanjiro?” If we go by the typical little sister playbook, another version of Nezuko might be spitting comebacks like Kirino, Oreimo’s titular poster girl imouto. Or from another angle, a little sister can be plain horrible like Guilty Crown's antagonist little sister, Mana. If Kirino and Mana are their own spiced-up flavors of sisters making their brother's life hell, where does Nezuko fall in this sibling pantheon?

Again, there’s a short and a long answer here. Short: Nezuko saves Tanjiro too often not to be useful. Long answer: Nezuko is the fiery heart tying Demon Slayer’s family themes in a pretty bow. It’s too simple to say "Nezuko’s a deconstruction because she can fight!" because many imouto, especially in fantasy settings, have exceptional character traits. Nezuko’s plot-assigned role as little sister should be embraced without being an accessory. While not an obvious critique, Nezuko’s so captivating because of her sister-ness, not in spite of it.

Tanjiro is constantly coping and mourning. He's an emotional kid, and for good reason: someone he loved is no longer her old self. In fact, Nezuko's explicitly described as a violent liability by Giyu and the Demon Corps. And although I generally hesitate to compare American comic books with manga, the phrase “women in refrigerators,” coined by writer Gail Simone in 1999 is useful here. The term is shorthand for female comic characters conveniently killed off, handicapped, or “fridged” specifically to push a male character’s development forward. Ironically, it’s because Nezuko travels inside a box that I recalled the trope. Narratively, she must be semi-passive because sunlight hurts demons, an understandable piece of world-building that doesn’t “fridge” Nezuko. To borrow this analogy in the wider context of anime’s fascination with little sisters, you can almost read Nezuko in a “half-closed fridge” scenario we rarely see.

Because It's Personal

Let’s look at two pivotal arcs in Demon Slayer so far: Tanjiro’s arrival in Asakusa and the spider family battle on Mount Natagumo. At this point in Demon Slayer, we understand demons typically don’t work together — until we meet Susamaru and Yahaba. They’re total opposites, yet work together nonetheless. This pair working for Muzan is contrasted to Tamayo and Yushiro, good demons seeking a cure for Nezuko’s transformation. Nezuko proves herself in combat against Susamaru, however, her best is seen at Natagumo. Trapped by Rui’s Demon Blood Art, Tanjiro is helpless until Nezuko unleashes her own technique to save him. It isn’t raw deus ex machina girl power that leaves Rui dead, but the unbreakable sibling bond Nezuko shares with Tanjiro. Rui’s failure to spin a family is a tragic mirror to a viable big brother/little sister trust. Whether blood or found family, you still need empathy and teamwork to make the dream work.

Demon Slayer makes this clear: being a demon is lonely. But since Tanjiro and company don’t live in a black and white world, even demons replicate mortal faux pas. Because of Nezuko, Rui recognizes his cruelty toward other demons, people, really, no matter what “role” he tries assigning them. Tanjiro’s strong, but with Nezuko, he’s stronger. Demon Slayer paints the little sister archetype as a functional part of a bigger picture. Love, not punitive fear, is what forges the most loyal bonds. In the end, it’s always personal, Twelve Kizuki or no. Nezuko resonated with even “only-child” me because she's proof that family, no matter where they’re from, are complex people who grow in unexpected, sometimes undesirable ways. Yet, we must always accept them. Or in Nezuko’s case, cool but terrifying man-eating demonic transformations.

For what it's worth, the slice-of-life manga Umimachi Diary tied with Demon Slayer in Kadokawa's Da Vinci magazine’s end-of-year manga ranking in 2019. Fans of Koyoharu Gotouge's hit might already share some sensibilities with Akimi Yoshida’s manga all about sister dynamics. Maybe these two titles tying together means nothing, but to me, it says fans will always want stories that sincerely depict the full breadth of what family means and our roles in them.

Are you a big Nezuko fan? How do you feel about little sister characters? Let us know in the comments!

Blake P. is a weekly columnist for Crunchyroll Features. His twitter is @_dispossessed. His bylines include Fanbyte, VRV, Unwinnable, and more. Zenitsu probably didn't write this.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Blake Planty

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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kevoreally · 6 years

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#BuffyAt20 - S03E05 “Homecoming”

AND HERE WE ARE! I am finally caught up on #BuffyAt20 with this liveblog! Very exciting. Season 3, Episode 5, “Homecoming.”

> It’s weird to see these kids talking about something normal like a dance. Not funny weird. Weird weird.

> Why is Willow talking about this being their “last homecoming” as if they’ve ever been the types to celebrate homecoming? (Didn’t Cordy almost get Bride Of Frankenstein’d at last homecoming or something?)

> Is it homecoming or Homecoming? I’m not going to get it right, that’s for sure.

> I actually don’t think going in Oz’s van is the dumbest idea. It's at The Bronze, not The Plaza.

> Why are they talking about a limo for homecoming anyway?? Is this a thing? I thought that was just Prom. And yet I remember no mention of a limo once we get to the actual Prom.

> Wow, in a rare instance, Cordelia’s tactlessness is actually useful. I mean, she’s not calling out Scott in defense of Buffy so much as from a complete lack of social awareness, but it still proved useful.

> “The judge will accept that as a yes.” Bless Oz forever.

> Okay, Buffy is still a little zoned out, but she’s a fairly decent girlfriend in that first scene.

> Was that Angel dramatic curtain pull really as intense as the music tried to tell us? Probably not.

> I actually loved and still love the “Buffy hiding Angel” arc. I think it makes a lot of sense. I think it could’ve been better executed at times, but I still enjoy it more than, say, XILLOW.

>This smash-cut to the break-up is actually almost laughable. Who wrote this one? … Written AND directed by Greenwalt? Huh.

> This was such a weird three-episode arc, this Scott Hope thing. We literally never see him again after this episode, and he’s only mentioned again I think once in Season 7.

> He barely gives a reason for dumping her! YOU AGREED TO GO TO HOMECOMING WITH HER LAST NIGHT! What a chump. You can do better, B.

> Woof. The Twins. Hello, boys.

> Them watching her is such an interesting note to close the teaser on, because it still yet doesn’t give away any of the SlayerFest stuff, you just think “assassins.”

> No, seriously, every week this theme song gets me.

> THE MAYORRRRRR!!!!!!!

> Also Deputy Mayor Allan. Love him. Was he Deputy Mayor? I suppose I’ll be reminded soon enough.

> The germophobe stuff was such an odd and interesting quirk to add to this villain.

> “Dirt. And germs. And mayonnaise.” This performance, man.

> “You have all my faith.” HA!

> It’s cute that these senior portraits were used in the “official” Sunnydale High Yearbook. (Which I own, of course. (It’s… not great.))

> “Open to all mankind.” There’s that slut-shaming again.

> Xander actually does occasionally show emotional concern for Cordy and it’s… almost nice? But then this is the episode where he starts cheating, so… nvm.

> Eddie’s friend Nicole on #FreshOffTheBoat looked just like Faith and I loved it.

> See, and now here Buffy and Faith are talking about being sexually empowered. Isn’t that so much nicer than slut-shaming?

> UGH, the scene where Buffy’s favorite teacher doesn’t know her. I feel this too hard.

> I find it hard to believe any teacher has not heard of Buffy. THAT NAME ALONE.

> Also hard to believe there’s no make-up dates for senior portraits. And seriously? When Buffy didn’t show up after Cordy said she’d get her, no one else went?? 🤬

> “just because you were Guacamole Queen when you were three” - is that in response to Buffy saying she was Fiesta Queen a moment ago, when Cordelia wasn’t present?

> Yeah, my IG post had me wonder if Buffy should’ve backed off, since this is all Cordy has, but no. This is actually great. I root for Buffy all the way. Go for blood.

> "...and whatever the hell you are, my brother. You got them spiny-looking head things. I ain't never seen that before." "I am Kulak, of the Miquot Clan." "Isn't that nice." Loool.

> “Ladies, gentlemen, spiny-head-looking creatures.” Seriously, Mr. Trick was great.

> OH NO, IT’S HERE. The dreaded Xillow.

> Seriously, can I just blackout during this?

> There’s even a soft pop hit playing in the background. STOP TRYING TO BE #DAWSONSCREEK.

> I’m sorry - eighth grade COTILLION? WHAT? (Meanwhile, I was in seventh grade when this aired.)

> Xander asking Willow how far she and Oz got is only inappropriate because of what comes next. It would’ve been so nice if they could’ve been comfortable opposite-sex friends who could talk about those sorts of things.

> This whole scene is so painfully awkward. Who actually wanted this? STOP DANCING.

> Okay it’s over bye, bye, byeee.

> This whiteboard reminds me of #CabinInTheWoods

> Okay, Buffy. Like. Why do you think anyone is going to laugh at you making fun of Cordy? We all know it’s beneath you.

> “A lot of people came to my welcome home party.” “They were killed by zombies.” “Good point.” HA.

> Okay, you know, Willow and Xander’s guilt pushing them to work harder for Cordy almost makes it worth the moment in THIS episode. But its continuation after this is just dumb.

> Like. At the very least, can’t Willow let Buffy see her database too? Wtf?

> “As Willow goes, so goes my nation” is something I say a lot, except with Nico.

> I straight up thought Buffy was just drinking directly from a bottle of wine just now.

> I like this song during the compaign montage. And hey, it’s Fastball! https://youtu.be/e97XbcKy8ZU

> I liked the Lisa Loeb song from earlier, so I may as well link to that too: https://youtu.be/NDdivQ8n5Ug

> Aww, it was so nice of the promo department to lend Buffy a headshot to use for her campaign posters. 🙄

> Remember last week when Scott’s two oldest friends were both killed, including one by the other? And we were supposed to, like, feel sympathy for him?

> How long is this campaign going on for? Where is Buffy getting the funding for all of this?

> WHY WOULD WILLOW *NOT* HAVE SHOWN BUFFY THE DATABASE? Sigh.

> JONATHAN!!!

> Cordelia only gave Jonathan $6? Even in 1998, that was nothing. At least make it $10!

> Vulcan Death Grip - that’s not the right name, right? I feel like even I know that one.

> “is that any more tacky than your faux ‘I’m shy but deep’ campaign posters?” “...yes.” Ha. And, yes.

> ”How can you think it’s okay to talk to people like this?” SERIOUSLY, BUFFY. I’m finding it hard to understand how liking Cordelia at this point in the series.

> Like right here. Cordelia *purposely* goes to physically push Buffy, assuming the Slayer would never push back. The moment Buffy actually defends herself, Cordelia calls her “sick.” That’s uncanny.

> Okay, “vapid whore” wasn’t great. But. ...Y’know. 🤷🏻‍♂️

> For real, I still keep expecting it to turn out there’s some kind of horny homecoming ghost that’s going to be revealed as the source of this Xillow nonsense. But no. Never.

> “I’m talking about us.” Loooool, of course you are, Willow. Watch out for anvils, everyone…

> “The limo was not cheap, work it out”? What the fuck? 🤭🤣

> Okay, but for real, the setup here of how Cordelia came to be mistaken for Faith? I actually do find that amusing. And it was 1998, so you could still just barely get away with the Germans making that mistake without saying, “Okay, but all that tech and they got it wrong?” It was a magical time.

> Their dresses are gorgeous and timeless, by the way. And the color scheme evokes thoughts of #TRON for me, that orange and almost-teal green.

> Omigod, it’s a TV in the woods, hooked up to a VCR. Maybe it wasn’t such a magical time after all, haha.

> I want a SlayerFest T-shirt.

> I vividly remember “She’s a Slayer, I’m a Homecoming Queen” from the commercials.

> Faith just hanging out at this dance is so cute. There weren’t nearly enough stories with Faith actively involved as a good guy.

> I haven’t ever listened closely to “She Knows” by Four Star Mary, I don’t know how much sense Oz writing it for Willow makes, but believe I’ll be looking into it before I blog it.

> Giles psyching out Willow and Xander is friggin’ adorable. I love that Giles starts to loosen up this season. Is it a response to seeing the change in his returned Slayer? Hmm.

> I love Buffy just lobbing a bear trap at someone.

> I can’t tell if the hunter is cute. I wanna say mostly. I wonder if this was supposed to be Whats-his-name from “Phases”?

> Okay, it’s vindictive, but Faith’s revenge on Scott still makes me giggle. What?? That was a very unceremonious dumping.

> And we never saw Scott again. Who was his date anyway? What became of Scott after this? Other than, y’know. Gay.

> Giles is so on point in this episode. He’s fun and caring and charming. What a wonderful highlight in a lot of mess.

> Omigod, I almost forgot about Cordy’s spatula.

> Hm. This making Cordy realize she loves Xander is… interesting.

> And then her fortifying after Buffy goads her - and being smart enough to recognize that’s what she’s doing. Huh.

> Oh wait, she forgot to mention the telephone, nevermind, she still dumb.

> “No, this is better, for - oh.” Ha, tho.

> Buffy is leaving a voicemail on Giles’s landline. Lol.

> The spiny demon offering to cut off the hunter’s leg is actually kind of a nice gesture. New OTP.

> Wait, Buffy’s voicemail actually went through? Interesting.

> “I spent a year’s allowance on this dress.” And the muffins?

> Loving Buffy’s “pick up a yearbook and prove I went to high school” speech here, tbh. Writing and performance.

> How did this guy not just turn around and stab Cordelia while she was swatting him?

> “Cordelia, the spatula.” Haaa.

> This tech is some real #VRTroopers-looking shit.

> How have I not yet mentioned the Gorch reappearance here? And how much I love it? So fun.

> Wow, Buffy goes down hard when she gets hit with that stand. Damn.

> I do sort of love Cordelia talking Gorch into fleeing. He’s just stupid enough for this to work here.

> “I don’t recall them mentioning corsages” - that’s what tips them off? Sigh.

> “I need some wet toilet paper.” “Yeah! That’ll help.” Okay, lul.

> NOOO, goodbye, hot German twins! RIHotness.

> Seriously, cute plan tho, making them fire on each other. I wonder if their Dad/Handler ever got his money. Also, so like, what happened at school the next day, with this shot-up wall?

> The Mayor immediately offers his hand to Mr. Trick, that’s endearing. He’s a very endearing villain.

> “This is a very important year for me.” “Election year.” “Something like that.” Snerk.

> “The children are our future. We need them. I need them.” Like, does he mean ‘to eat’ here? I don’t think so, actually. He talks in Season 4 about having a children’s museum dedicated to himself.

> HA, SEE, I KNEW IT: “long story,” “got hunted,” “apparently not that long.” And also written by David Greenwalt. Gotta watch those, brother!

> Oh hey Devon!

> This scene does completely make me laugh still, not gonna lie. When he’s switching the crown over the two winners’ heads and our girls just walk off. Classic.

Speaking of classic - next week, a very classic episode, with another character reappearance, “Band Candy!” Looking forward to it. Especially now that I’m finally caught up! :D :D :D

#Buffy #buffy at 20 #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy watch #buffy rewatch #tv blog #live blog #buffy blog #btvs season 3 #Buffy Season 3 #Homecoming

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