#last i checked mitsuba was dead as hell

[prime-illust]

what if you wanted a ghost bf but he ghost dies in front of you

this is lowkey a Scrunkly Week Day 6 Submission, far after scrunkly week has ended bc i got inspired again. godbless

prompt(s): remember those we have lost

made two versions, for the two wolves inside of me. one for my clear cut design liker alpha, the other for my Shiney liker alpha. yes they are both alphas. i am alpha

[under-the-cherrytree]

uhhh i don’t know how many characters per hc request is aloud but can i request teru , tsukasa , and mitsuba’s (separate) partner dying in their arms? (if it’s to many then just tsukasa and mitsuba, or if this request makes you uncomfortable in any way then you can just ignore it)

Tsukasa, Mitsuba, and Teru’s s/o dying in their arms headcanons❣︎

Warning: Death and description about it

A/n: I probably should have specified that in my rules-

You can request one to three, sorry for the confusion!

Sorry this came out so late… I was busier that I thought I would be yesterday...

Anyways… enjoy!

Tsukasa loves you so muchhhhhh!

He likes to take you on adventures through boundaries with him

When he’s in a boundary he never been in before, you will be there holding his hand as he leads the way

Unlike most of the boys, he wouldn’t mind if you were there with him when he was fighting another supernatural

He loves the praise and thanks he gets from you when he defeats them

Tsukasa believes in his strength and capability to beat his opponent

So it comes as a shock when he couldn’t stop the supernatural from attacking you

It happened in an instant

Not even enough time to call his Kokujoudai

He turned around to see you being impaled in the chest by the supernatural

What the hell was happening?

“Who the hell… DO YOU THINK YOU ARE-?!”

The spirit turned to see Tsukasa about to hit them but they vanished into thin air before he could attack

Once he realized the apparition what gone he rushed to your side

He kneeled down and picked up your dying body, letting your blood stain his cloths and hands

“GO GET SAKURA, OR NATSUHIKO, OR-OR AMANE! JUST GET SOMEBODY!” Tsukasa voice was cracking and his Kokujoudai vanished

His bangs was covering his eyes but you saw the tears trailing down his face

“Don’t worry… it’s going to be okay…”

You tried to bring your hand up to cup his cheek

When he saw your hand falling back down he was quick to grab it and place it to his check for you

Your blood from his hands rubbing onto yours

“Please… I don’t want you to go… you mean too much to me, please…”

He watched as the light slowly left your eyes

Gritting his teeth, he stayed with you until someone pried you out of his hands

He blamed himself.

No one but himself.

If he had never brought you, he would have never ended up losing you.

He started to get more violent and snap at his friends for no reason

“Tsukasa, how does this rumor sound-?”

“WHATEVER SAKURA, JUST GET OUT OF HERE!”

She flinched when he snapped at her and just decided to leave him alone for a while

He distanced himself from the group

People know he is going through a lot and that its not that safe to be with him when he's like this

Hanako was very concerned about his younger twin after hearing the news

He went to check on him to make sure he was okay

“Hey Tsukasa… how have you been?”

Tsukasa didn’t even look at him.

Just sat on his chair staring at the ground

“Well, if you ever want to talk you know where to find me…”

Hanako vanished leaving Tsukasa alone again

Had a lot of panic attacks by himself

He would be on his knees and just claw at his chest and cry in the other room

If someone asked about it he would just snap at them as well

He was too weak to beat the supernatural

He was too weak to dave you

When Mitsuba died he was forgotten by most people

He felt like he nether belonged in the human world or supernatural world

But when he’s with you he feels like he belongs

Like someone sees him

And when he has you that's all you could ever ask for

He barely remembers how this all started

All he remembered was that there was a supernatural and it wanted blood

He always thought he was weak

When in danger, he would joke around hiding behind you saying he was to cute to die

But if something every did try to attack you, he would instantly be at your side blocking the hit from hitting you

But he wasn’t able to block this hit

He ran to your side instantly

“LEAVE!” Mitsuba screamed tears running down his checks

The supernatural got forced out by hands through mirrors since it wasn’t his boundary

He focused on stopping the bleeding

“You-you cant go you stupid idiot! Getting h-hurt in battle, are you i-insane..?”

His voice was shaky as he stuttered

He tried to laugh it off as a joke

Saying you can’t die

You can't leave him

He needs you

“No… this is all a bad dream huh? You are going to be okay!”

His was raising his voice now trying to force his mind to believe the impossible

But you were out of his reach

Out of his protection as your life slipped away from you

Everything reminds him of you one way or another…

He sees pretty flowers, oh, that's a good picture. Pictures, he used to take pictures of you all the time…

He wouldn’t isolate himself from people

He would stay but he would quite

His eyes dull

Not being cocky in any way

Only speaking when spoken too

It was quite noticeable by all that this has affected him

Kou tires to encourage him as much as he could but that was quite hard

“I’m sorry Mitsuba... “

“I needed her in my life… I needed her with me… but I was weak. I am an idiot..!”

Tsukasa was right

He is weak

He’s a coward

He’s a blind fool that fell in love with someone who he couldn’t protect.

He always disliked supernaturals

Never once has he saw any good in them

And when he found out you had the ability to see supernaturals as well he was shocked

He would try to keep you as far away from any spirit

He didn’t trust them and would never want to see one hurt you

But unfortunately, that was hard in this situation

He was trying to slay the supernatural while protecting you

This was quite hard because you weren't an exorcist so he kept most of his attention on you

But he missed the supernatural piercings you

Teru, now pissed, killed it before it could cause any more harm to you

Once it was dead he rushed to your side picking you up in his arms

From the look of the wound he knew you weren’t going to make it...

“T-Teru… “

He knew he had to be strong

Be strong for you

He didn’t want the last thing for you to see what him grieving or yelling

He smiled gently and placed his forehead on yours and tears streamed down his face and onto your cheek

“Shhhhh, hey, it’s going to be okay. I love you so much… it will be over soon...”

He continued this until he felt your body become cold

That’s when he started to let out all his tears

He couldn’t hold a exorcist weapon without thinking about you

He hasn’t exorcised in a long time

All he thinks about is how he failed you

People at school will ask his how he is and how he is handling the death

He simply puts on a brave face

He will say that he prefers not to talk about it and they won’t push it anymore

He has always put on that brave smile when situations were bad

But now he was struggling to hold it

He cries at night looking at pictures of you on his phone

He has pictures of you hung up in his room

Since normal people don’t know about supernaturals, they just labled it as a unsolved murder

Teru was especially angered because he knows how you really died

It hurts him knowing that he failed someone so special to him

That he failed someone who he loved

[iamapoopmuffin]

Victims With Numbers

Fandom: Nanbaka/Corpse Party (crossover) Genre: Horror Characters: Hajime Sugoroku, Samon Gokuu, Kiji Mitsuba, Kenshirou Yozakura, Jyugo, Uno, Nico, Rock, Tsukumo, Liang, Upa, Qi, Honey, Trois, Musashi, Sachiko Shinozaki, Ryou Yoshizawa, Yuki Kanno, Tokiko Tsuji, Yoshikazu Yanagihori, Yoshie Shinozaki, Takamine Yanagihori, some OCs to take the role of Kizami later on instead of actual Kizami Includes major character death. Chapter 2 of ?

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Something seemed different when they got out into the hall. Like the holes in the floor were in different places now. Weird, but Honey figured he was probably imagining it. Besides, it still smelled of piss and mould. The two set to finding an exit, heading out to look for some stairs. The view out the window told them at the very least that they were on an upper floor, so the front entryway was likely down a flight and hopefully not too far. The halls they passed by were each as old and decrepit as the last, and there wasn't a pretty thing in sight, besides the two of them, of course. It took a few minutes of mindless wandering, but finally they managed to get downstairs and to what appeared to be the entryway. Well, there was a big door, shoe cubbies arranged in neat lines with abandoned footwear lying here and there, and an umbrella stand as well. It looked like the entrance, so the boys stepped over the shoes, clearly children's shoes, and made their way to the door.

"See? I told you we'd find it!" Trois chirped happily as he reached out to tug the door open. Immediately, he frowned. "It seems to be stuck."

"You have got to be kidding." Honey muttered, reaching out himself to help pull. It wouldn't budge even slightly. "The door's locked?!"

"Don't panic. Even if it is locked, there's probably a key around here, or an emergency exit that we'll be able to open from inside. Failing that, like I said before, according to building code at least one window here needs to open. We'll find a way out easily." A smile on his face, Trois went to lead them both away before spotting something in one of the cubbies. "Are these candles?" He asked, as he reached out to grab them. They were short, stubby, white objects partially wrapped in newspaper. At a glance, they did look like candles. "If we find a lighter or matches, we can use these to help light our way. I believe the supervisor of Building 13 smokes, so if we find him, if he's here-" He cut off with a disgusted noise and dropped the candles.

"Trois?"

"Those aren't candles."

"They aren't?" Honey looked down to where they had fallen. Trois had unwrapped them as he spoke, and now he could see that each of them had a little red on one end, and a little pink on the other. The pink was glittery, and looked kind of like nail polish. "Oh god! They're fingers!"

"Human fingers. I was holding severed human fingers. That is so unsanitary."

"Those are a girl's fingers, aren't they?"

"I think so."

"Why are there some girl's fingers in the shoe lockers?!"

"I don't know, Honey. We shouldn't stick around here, though. We need to find somewhere for me to wash my hands, and that emergency exit." With that, they wandered back up the stairs, opening classroom doors as they passed. None of them had any obvious exit in place, and they didn't find anything but classrooms until they got to the top floor, where they found the bathrooms. Trois was delighted, at least. In he marched to wash his hands, and Honey reluctantly went with him. At least if there was running water, he could get something to drink.

The bathrooms stank. Stale urine, clogged drains full of murky water and hair, bugs skittering over the dirty porcelain. When Trois saw the bugs, he backed up from the faucet, looking strangely pale. Well, Honey was always in charge of getting rid of any bugs that made it into their cell, so he was at least a little bit aware that Trois didn't like the nasty little things. Honey turned the tap. It was stiff and rusted, but it turned. Only, no water came out when it did. Not a trickle, not a drop. It looked like all the water that had ever been in the plumbing system was now in the nasty brown puddles in the basins. He tried the other taps as well, to no avail. God damn it, he was thirsty!

"We could collect rain water from an open window." Trois suggested helpfully.

"Right." Honey muttered, stepping back and letting him support him again.

"We ought to check the classrooms in more detail. Actually go inside them and search around. Of course, a lot of them were very dark, so some actual candles would be useful...and we haven't been to the east side of the building yet. There could be something useful over there."

"Right." He repeated. Trois was being oddly positive, and for some reason it was starting to tick Honey off. Before heading back down, Trois suggested they tried the taps in the girls' bathrooms, but of course they didn't work either.

The first classroom they stepped into was darker than the one they'd woken up in, and something about it felt wrong to Honey, but Trois could see a cabinet in the corner and wanted to go check it out, certain there would be something helpful inside. They crossed about halfway to the cabinet before Honey saw something that made him freeze. It was a body, slumped in a chair, nothing but bone and a school uniform. His sudden stop and the intake of breath caught Trois' attention, and he followed his gaze.

"Is that...real?"

"I can't tell. I hope not. It can't be, can it?"

"The fingers were real." Trois went over to get a closer look. "It's real."

"How can you even tell?!"

"Just trust me on this. She couldn't have been much older than fifteen." He seemed to examine the hole in the girl's skull, and Honey looked away. After a moment, he heard Trois cross to the cabinet and try and open it, and then a sound of disappointment. "I can't see anything but hair and dead insects. It's disgusting." And then, he gasped. Honey's head shot up, and Trois was looking back at the body. Only...no, he wasn't looking at the body, he was looking past it, at the opposite corner of the room. Honey followed his gaze, and saw the little girl, no older than seven, crouched in the corner and staring right at him. She didn't look well. Her eyes were dull, and her skin had a grey tint to it, and it looked like there was a blue light around her. "What the fu-?"

He didn't get another sound out before Trois grabbed him by the collar and yanked him hard to the door.

"Trois, what the hell was that for?!" He snapped, as soon as he could breathe again.

"I just got a really bad feeling from that ghost."

"Ghost?" Honey didn't really believe in ghosts, but he had to admit, looking at that girl, he had felt a cold chill down his spine. It hadn't felt right in that room, after all.

"Ghost, yes. I think if we see another one, it's best to avoid it."

Honey nodded uncertainly. "Who do you think the girl was?" He asked as they limped towards a flight of stairs.

"I'm not sure, but I got a bad feeling from her."

"She was a kid."

"A dead kid."

"What the hell is wrong with this pl-" Honey cut off with a shriek as his ankle gave out with a snap. He went pitching down the stairs, only to be caught by his companion before he could go for a hard tumble. "Fuck, fuck, god!" He managed, clinging to Trois for support.

"It's okay, Honey. Sit down. Let me see your leg."

"It fucking hurts!"

"I know. Hold still." Trois removed Honey's shoe as gently as he could. "It's quite swollen. Hopefully that crack wasn't the bone breaking. If we get to another classroom, you could sit at one of the desks-"

"What if they have bodies in them?"

"You'll just have to deal with it. A dead body can't hurt you."

"What about the ghosts that you have bad feelings about? Trois, I am not going into another damn room with a kid's corpse in it!"

Trois scowled. "Fine. Maybe we can find an infirmary or a nurse's office, or a teacher's lounge. Somewhere for you to rest, anyway."

"Body-free."

"I promise." He stood and helped Honey up, continuing to support him as they went to explore the rest of the school.

True to his word, Honey refused to enter any other classrooms, despite Trois' complaints that he was impeding their progress. The longer they stayed in this place that was filled with death, the more anxious and angry Honey felt himself getting, and his companion's complaints were definitely not helping. He could feel his short-fuse temper getting closer and closer to blowing, and the bodies made him feel worse. What if there was someone abducting all these people and killing them? What if that was how they ended up there? Sure, a lot of the bodies were old and bleached, but some were fresh, recently deceased, just like the one they found in the hallway.

They first noticed the smell. Of course, all the bodies had smelled, but there was something really strong about this smell. A metallic smell. If you'd ever had to dissect a body part in a science class, you might know the kind of thing. The smell of the bucket of hearts or whatever else that the teachers wanted you to cut open, giving an overwhelming bloody stench. When they turned the corner, they saw it. The remains of a person, decorating the wall right before them. Honey gagged, covering his mouth and nose as Trois stared at the body in shock.

"This was a person." He whispered in what Honey hoped was horror. "An actual human body." The whole thing was a red mess. Blood, bone and guts splattered over the wall, ceiling and floor. The person it used to be was unrecognisable. No face, no recognisable features of any kind. Wet and dripping and wretched. It was the most gruesome thing Honey had ever seen. Retching, he stumbled back as far as Trois' hold on him would allow. The Frenchman tightened his hold and tried to urge him forward.

"Come on, Honey, just don't look at it and keep walking."

"Stop, I don't want to go this way!"

"There's an infirmary through here, I can see the sign! Just a little further and you can rest your leg. We might even be able to find something to splint you."

After a moment's thought, Honey gave ground, and heard a squelching sound. Trois looked down, and found his foot planted firmly over the body's intestine.

"Oh..."

"You stepped in it!"

"There's blood on my shoe. Honey, do you have a tissue?"

"No."

"That was disgusting. It was like...the way it gave way, the squelching sound-"

Honey retched again. "Stop! Shut the fuck up!" He managed when he was sure he wasn't going to throw up.

"Sorry...come on, let's get your foot seen to."

The infirmary itself was okay. No dead bodies or blood stains. Two beds, some cabinets full of medical supplies, an old space heater they couldn't light and some matches (if only those 'candles' had actually been candles). Another sink was in one corner, and as with all the others, it didn't work. Trois made him sit on the edge of the bed while he rifled around the cabinets. He came over a moment later with some bandages and what looked like a stick of wood.

"There." Trois chirped happily. "All better."

Honey had to admit that he'd done a pretty good job at stabilising his ankle. It actually did feel better. "Thanks, Trois." Was all he said before lying back on the bed.

"Shuffle over a little. I'd like to lie down as well."

He did as told, and the two lay side by side, staring at the ceiling.

"How long do you think we've been here?" Honey asked after a moment.

"I'm not sure. I think dinner's been and gone though."

"Yeah. M'hungry."

"Same. And thirsty."

Honey shifted in place, placing his head near Trois' shoulder. "Do you think anyone else is here? Anyone from the prison, anyone alive..."

"I'm not sure. We haven't seen anyone, have we?"

"No."

"I don't know if we're completely alone."

"I hope not. But, I don't want to be in here with some utter psycho. Plus, people like Uno will just be freaking out."

"I get what you mean. Poor guy."

"Mm." They went quiet for a bit, staying there, side by side.

Then they heard the scream. Trois sat bolt upright. "Was that Uno?"

"It sounded like Uno." Honey muttered, frowning. "I mean, we know what him screaming sounds like."

"It was from upstairs." He got up off the bed. "I'll go look for him." Only, a hand around his wrist stopped him.

"Wait, I'm coming too."

"No, you're hurt. Just stay here and look after yourself. I'll just be a moment, I promise. I'll look around upstairs, but if I can't find him within a few minutes, I'll run right back here."

"You sure?"

"Trust me, I don't want to be alone in here any more than you do, but I doubt Uno wants to be alone either. Maybe he's just seen one of the dead bodies."

"Probably."

"I'll be back before anything bad can happen."

"You'd better be."

Trois nodded and gave him a wave before leaving the infirmary, shutting the door gently behind him. Honey placed his hands behind his head with a sigh. At least having Uno with them would be useful for something, if Trois could find him. He shut his eyes, allowing himself to relax a little. Trois was right, he needed to rest.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard a bell toll. It sounded like a clock. The first sign of the passage of time, beyond his grumbling stomach and growing fatigue. Damn it, this sucked. They'd better find that emergency exit soon, especially before they ended up like that body just outside...actually, maybe it was a good thing his stomach was empty. The thought alone of that body could have him throwing up profusely if he was full. That would be embarrassing. It was colder here as well, now Trois wasn't right next to him. Not that he would ever express that thought out loud.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of laughter. Children's laughter. Only, unlike the bell, this sounded like it was right beside him. He turned his head to look, or at least he tried to, but he found he couldn't move. All he could do was strain his eyes trying to look around. The laughter continued, but he couldn't see any children nearby. He did see a flash of red to his other side, and when he looked that way it looked like blood was oozing down the wall. This was actually terrifying. Well, it would be one thing if all this was happening around him and he could move, but no matter how much his mind screamed at him to get out of that bed, his muscles didn't so much as twitch. He couldn't even open his mouth to call for help. The next sound to assault his ears was the sound of scratching, like pen on paper. There had been a notebook on the desk, he remembered, but they'd not given it much thought at all. They'd been preoccupied with Honey's worsening injury. Was someone in here with him? He'd not heard anyone come in, but he may have dozed off after Trois left. He couldn't see anyone, and he couldn't speak to ask. It was so cold, and he had no idea what was going on. He just knew he had no way to defend himself against whatever was in here with him.

A chair moved. He saw it out of the corner of his eye, and then he heard the voice. A woman's voice.

"Let's all go on a trip over the summer vacation." She said, to which a chorus of children's voices agreed quite happily. There was someone here in the room with him, definitely, but he couldn't see her.

He at least hoped she would be hot.

The chair moved over to his bedside, and he watched it approach. No-one there. And the woman's voice again, closer now, like it was coming from the chair. "Sacchan...have you come to find me?" This was so freaky. He couldn't see her at all, and of course had no idea who 'Sacchan' was...though Tsukumo's story had mentioned a female staff member who died and her missing daughter, hadn't it? Was this the murderous teacher ghost?

No, of course not. Honey didn't believe in that sort of stuff at all, it was ridiculous to even think it as a possibility. This was all some kind of sick prank that Building 13 was pulling on them, and when it was over and done with, they would be hearing from his lawyers. They were probably watching from somewhere and having a good laugh. Only...that didn't make sense either. Unless this place really was underneath the building, but then what about what was out the window? He couldn't make sense of any of this and now his mind was going a mile a minute and he had to admit at least to himself that he was panicking.

Then the spirit appeared. It wasn't a hot lady, it wasn't even recognisable as a lady. It was a thick, black smoke in a vaguely human shape, with shining red eyes, sat calmly in the chair. It reached out one creepy arm towards him, and called out that name again. 'Sacchan'.

Upstairs, Trois still hadn't found Uno. He didn't think he'd been gone that long, but he had to admit, being alone in here was unnerving. He was doing a quick sweep of the upper floors, jogging but not running, keeping his eyes and ears peeled as he called out for Uno. He had to be somewhere nearby, this had to be where he'd heard that scream coming from. He was considering turning back and returning to the infirmary when he turned the corner and saw the figure slumped in the chair. It was mostly in the shadows, and they had their back to him, but he could just about make out the long, blond braid trailing down over the floor.

"Uno?" He called uncertainly as he drew closer, slowing to a walk now. The body in the chair was very still, unnaturally so. That wasn't a good sign. Plus, it wasn't even Uno to begin with. The person's hair was blonde, just blonde, no other colour in sight, unless that was a trick of the light, or lack thereof. So why was he still walking towards them? "Are you okay?" He heard himself asking as he reached out to tap the person on the shoulder. His touch caused the body to overbalance and fall. Well, the top half, anyway. The person's top half had come away from the bottom, and it looked like the body had been there for a while. There was something oozing from it and he didn't think it was blood, but whatever it was, it was on his hand now and he needed to find somewhere to wipe it off, urgently. His clean hand, or relatively clean, anyway, since he still hadn't been able to wash up after touching the severed fingers, came up over his mouth and nose as he backed away, only to step on something hard. A bone. No, there was still flesh attached, but it looked like it had been eaten away. It took a lot more effort than he'd have liked to swallow back the scream bubbling up in his chest. They needed to get out of here, and soon. He jogged back the way he came, aiming to get back to the infirmary before anything could happen to him.

Honey couldn't breathe. The smokey figure was thick and heavy, and baring down hard on his chest. His lungs didn't have any room to expand, and the smoke flowing into his nose and forcing open his jaw to dive down his throat meant there was no way he'd be able to get any air. He was choking. He couldn't see past the smoke. His consciousness was fading out and everything hurt, everything burnt. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Hadn't Trois promised he would be back before anything bad could happen? Where was he? Why was he about to die alone and scared in this nasty old room? He'd said they would get out of there together, so where was he?

Why was he just giving up? Why couldn't he move? Why couldn't he even twitch? Was it fear locking him up like this, or was it something about this room, about these spirits? This thing that was attacking him...

Another scream filled his ears, and suddenly he found his limbs obeying him. It was like he had been pinned down by something, and the scream had attracted its attention. Perhaps he really had dozed off when Trois left and that had all been a nightmare, but once that weight was gone, he sat up, coughing, spluttering, trying to take great gulps of air. He screwed his eyes shut and tried to get his breath back, call out for help, but his throat was so sore now, he could barely raise his voice. But it was fine now, right? That shadowy thing had left him alone. It was all a bad dream.

He wiped his eyes dry before opening them again, and saw the thing right next to the bed still. And he screamed. It reached for him again, and he scrambled off the end of the bed, running right for the door. He had to get out of there before that thing grabbed him again. He managed to get there without falling flat on his face, but the door was covered in something black. Like it was covered in thick, black hair, criss-crossed all over the place. He couldn't even see the handle. He tried to grip the edge of the door and pull, but the hair held it in place. He couldn't open the door. He was trapped in there with that apparition. How the hell was he supposed to get rid of all that hair?

The matches. The matches next to the space heater. He could burn it. He pushed away from the door, and ran right through the ghost, which at least told him it wasn't solid enough to stop him, but even passing through that smoke briefly was awful. It was cold and thick and had him gagging and coughing again. He staggered and fell, gasping as he felt his insides freezing and churning, and crawled towards the heater. His path was blocked by a sudden shoot of what appeared to be flame, but dark. It gave off the heat of a real fire, but at the same time it was like the shadow of a flame...if flame could give off a shadow. He had to get around it, get around to the other side without burning himself or going through that ghost again. As he scrambled up, he at least noticed the damn thing was moving slowly. Sure, with the panic, the obstacles and his injury, he couldn't exactly move at speed himself, but it made it just a bit easier to scrabble past it. He almost knocked over one of the dividing curtains in his rush to get past the desk and cabinets, to get to the small box of matches. It never crossed his mind to search the cabinets for anything else he could use. He wouldn't have had enough time anyway. As it was, in the time it took him to get down and pick up the box, the spirit had moved to follow the path he took, meaning that when he went to pass the desk again, it was right there in the way. With a shriek, he jerked back, and backed right into one of the cabinets.

The sound of the bottles hitting the floor had him looking down long enough to make sure he wouldn't step on any glass or end up flat on his back, and long enough to spot the word 'alcohol' on one of the bottles. Long enough for a thought to spark in his head. Alcohol had more of a chance of catching alight than the dry hair, right? At least, it would burn faster, right? With the fire blocking one path of escape, and the deadly ghost lady blocking the other, and the assumption that neither the alcohol nor the matches would get rid of either threat, he had to think fast, and thinking fast brought him to the conclusion that he could charge through the partitions, use them as a path. When he knocked the curtain over and tried to cross it, another flame erupted, bursting through it and causing him to veer to the side at the last minute. The ghost happily stepped on the curtain, but seemed to speed up as he tried to get his balance back, almost as if trashing the infirmary was pissing it off. Well, good. Screw the stupid thing, as long as its angry, ethereal ass didn't catch him and choke him to death. As he dashed towards the door, he fumbled with the lid of the bottle. Once it was open, he threw it at the door and tried to light a match in a panic.

"Come on!" He yelled, "Light! Just fucking light!"

There! A flame! The hair was alight, the smell just as foul as any other in this building, and as he felt the spirit draw closer, Honey gave in to the panic and grabbed the door, heaving it open. The burning hair gave way as the ghostly hands made another grab for him, and he screamed as the flames seared his flesh, but the door opened and he went sprawling in his rush to leave. He scrambled away from the door, and glanced back to see the spirit hadn't left the infirmary. It stood just past the door, staring at him as he tried to get his breath back.

"Sacchan..."

"...Sacchaaan..."

"...Sacchaaaan..."

"I'll kill you"

Not wanting to be near that thing any longer, Honey forced himself to his feet and ran down the hall, only to meet with a sight he didn't want to see again. The body on the wall. He dropped to his knees in front of it and threw up. He threw up until he couldn't bring up any more bile, and continued to dry heave even after that. And then there was a hand on his back and a soothing voice by his ear.

"It's okay, Honey, it's okay." Trois was back. "Take a moment. It's going to be okay."

"How...how can you say that?"

"Hmm?"

Honey shot a glare at him and pushed him away. "How can you say it's going to be okay? The doors won't open, the windows won't open, this place is full of dead bodies! We can't find a single living person! We are alone in here, and we are never getting out of here alive, you realise that, don't you? Don't you? We're going to die, and nobody will ever find our bodies! They won't even think to look for us! What will we be to them but a couple of escaped convicts? It'll never cross their minds that we were abducted!"

"You're overreacting." Trois assured him with a gentle smile. "I'm certain we'll find a way out of here, and you know the others. They wouldn't just assume we escaped under such suspicious circumstances."

"Bullshit. We wouldn't be a priority. And as for you, where the hell did you go?!"

"I was-"

"Looking for Uno, I know. Well? Did you find him? Obviously not, or he'd be with you now! You said you'd be back before anything happened! You were gone for hours, you stupid ass! That thing in the nurse's office could have killed me! Would you even care? I doubt it, you'd probably pass some stupid snarky comment."

Trois was clearly getting tired of this. He sighed, but plastered another strained smile on his face. "Okay, I won't take this personally. I understand now, you've experienced something traumatic. You're very stressed out. I'd rather you didn't take it out on me, but just take a moment, try and calm down."

"Stop talking like that! You're being so freaking positive, it's creepy! It's like some sick part of you is enjoying this, and you're pissed that I'm not having as much fucked up fun as you are!...You are enjoying this. You must be even more of a psycho than I thought! I bet you wouldn't even care if someone here did die! You'd just find it fascinating, or something creepy like that! Just get away from me!"

Trois let the smile slip away from his face, and Honey knew he'd gone too far. Somewhere in his ranting, he'd managed to strike a nerve. Trois was right. He was spewing venom at him, and it was by no means his fault that he was in such a pissy mood, or that he had just been attacked. He needed to apologise.

"You don't know anything about me." Trois told him in a warning tone. "Besides, I thought you didn't want to be alone."

"I...I...I don't care any more! I'd rather be on my own than with a freak like you! Just get lost!"

That wasn't what he meant to say. His companion nodded and got to his feet.

"I see. I'll go this way, then, and see if I can find anyone else. If you want to come with me, I won't stop you. You don't even have to apologise, just follow. If you really do want to split up and be by yourself for a bit, so be it. Just walk the other way."

Honey listened to his footsteps fade away, then cursed under his breath and walked in the opposite direction.

[evanescent-epiphanies]

like a passage from goodnight moon

It has been a very long time since I wrote a fic, but doing some music recs yesterday reminded me of how much I wanted to write some kind of musicians AU for the song Goodnight Moon by Go Radio! So yeah, have 1.5K of musician!mika yuumikayuu that I cranked out in like five hours last night. I love the sweet smell of hurt/comfort in the dead of night u_u (there are mentions of mitsunoa in here too)

@kuruenairazz look I actually did it *finger guns*

And sing for me softly, love, your song for tomorrow

And tell me my name’s the one that’s hidden in there somewhere

Yuu is lulled back into consciousness by the soft brush of a melody against his cheek.

He rolls over in bed, kicking off the covers that he doesn’t remember dragging over himself. The walls light up with the splashes of headlights through the window. Yuu checks the time: four in the morning. He squints. His lover croons sweetly from elsewhere in their shared apartment, the same mellow ballad that Yuu drifted off to yesterday evening. Mika has always worked far too hard.

He cards a hand through his bedraggled hair and swings upright. By the time he reaches the door, fingers ghosting the knob, the song has faded; it’s replaced by the low rustle of paper and the drumming of fingertips against wood. Yuu stares at the warm lamplight bleeding in from under the door. He shuffles out to the living room.

Mika is right where Yuu left him, perched at the end of the couch and hunched over sheets upon sheets of half-scribbled music. He doesn’t look up from the crumpled score in his hand, even when Yuu slides in behind him and lazily snakes arms around his waist. His chin finds a home on Mika’s shoulder.

“It’s late, darling,” mutters Yuu, voice thick with sleep, as he nuzzles his love’s jawline. Mika hesitates; his grip slowly slackens, muscles uncoiling, and Yuu hums in wholehearted approval. “Come to bed.”

Yuu reaches for the lamp beside them, but Mika gently seizes his wrist. His blue eyes are red-rimmed with exhaustion, brows drawn thoughtfully, and Yuu wants nothing more than the smooth them out with kisses and honeyed words. He leans in to do so, but Mika suddenly goes boneless. He chuckles hoarsely and presses his back into Yuu’s chest like it grounds him, and--Yuu eyes the sea of balled-up paper scattered around them--maybe it does.

“Let’s just stay here for a while,” Mika whispers, quiet enough to get swallowed in the silence around them, and dodges Yuu’s quizzical stare. Yuu lowers his arm--takes Mika’s down with it--and twines their fingers together. They sit. Mika opens and closes his mouth a few times, as if mustering the courage to say something, so Yuu waits. He listens to the forced pattern of Mika’s breaths and counts the pockmarks on the ceiling.

“Do you--,” Mika starts, air catching in his throat, and Yuu squeezes, “do you ever think that…. This isn’t what I’m meant to be doing?”

Yuu hides his frown behind golden curls. “What do you mean, love?”

Mika makes a helpless little gesture at the reject ideas on the floor. “I don’t know. The music, the writing, the--.... I’ve had slumps before, but this is just….”

“That tune you were working on earlier was good,” Yuu says. He rubs soothing circles into Mika’s skin when his shoulders begin to hike, trying to ease away the frustration seeping back into his bones. “I liked it a lot. It was rich and soulful, kind of like the one you wrote for--”

--“Shinoa and Mitsuba’s wedding? Yeah.” His lips curl up at the corners, mirthless. “I was looking at it earlier. Thought visiting my old stuff would help, but nothing’s good enough.”

Mika lowers his gaze to the music sheet still caged in his grasp. He lets it go. Yuu watches it flutter to the ground. “I’ve been working on this song for weeks, but I can’t even come up with something that even resembles what I’m trying to do. Maybe I’m just,” his voice cracks, “.... not cut out for it.”

Something in his gut twists horribly in response, wrenching even harder when Mika untangles his fingers from Yuu’s and moves to get off of him. Cold air floods the empty space that he occupied. “I’m sorry, this is stupid. You’re right, I should just go to sleep--”

--that’s as far as Yuu lets him get before he yanks him back down. A surprised noise escapes Mika as Yuu clutches him to his body like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of Mika’s neck and inhaling deeply. Mika trembles against him, hands fisting and unfisting themselves numbly at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. And it hurts to witness, because Yuu has seen those hands in so many ways--curled around the neck of a violin, splayed over monochrome piano keys, dancing across the lengths of flutes and clarinets and all manner of instruments--and he can’t stand the thought of Mika giving up the very thing he lives and breathes.

Yuu is not a musician. Yuu is not a musician, but he knows Mika, and that will have to be enough.

“Baby,” he murmurs, threading their fingers together once more, “That’s complete bull. You’re dedicated, you’re a hard worker, and you’ve got more talent in your pinkie finger than I’ve probably got in my whole body. Don’t say you’re not cut out for the thing that makes you happy.”

Mika makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “Yuu-chan--”

--“no, you need to hear this. You need to hear about the way your eyes light up when you make music. About how your voice steals the air from everyone in the room. I remember when Shinoa and Mitsuba asked you to compose that song for their wedding, and the way you positively glowed with happiness; you threw yourself into it with everything you had and chattered my ear off every chance you got. You had everyone crying halfway through your performance the day of because it was just so beautiful. That… That’s why I can’t let you quit. Music makes you come alive, and…. I don’t know how I breathed without you by my side.”

“You don’t know how you--,” Mika laughs, fond and incredulous all at once. “God, Yuu-chan, that’s my line.”

Yuu blinks, genuinely baffled, when Mika manages to loosen the arms around him enough to bring Yuu’s hand up to his face. He’s still chuckling as he kisses each of Yuu’s knuckles reverently; Yuu’s cheeks redden.

“You’re all that I think about. All that I dream about,” Mika says, voice raw with devotion, into his lover’s skin. “I’d drop music in a heartbeat if it meant I could be with you. You’ve given me the whole world and expected nothing in return. A life with you…. That’s the kind of hope everyone talks about. The kind of feelings we sing about, and,” he lays Yuu’s hand on his cheek and covers it with his own, “if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have any music in me anyway.”

There is silence. Bewildered, Mika swivels around to the sight of a bright flush spiraling down the collar of Yuu’s t-shirt. He chortles, and Yuu scrambles to recollect his composure.

“Dammit, Mika,” he says weakly, “Give a guy a warning, will you?”

Mika’s laughter grows fainter as he readjusts himself, tips his forehead against Yuu’s, breathes in his space. His eyes are closed, so Yuu studies the sweep of his lashes and the way they glimmer in the artificial light. His vision blurs from the proximity.

“I want to write the perfect song.” Mika looks at him dead on, eyes intent and so very blue. They snatch the oxygen right out of Yuu’s lungs. “I want to write the perfect song, and I want it to be about you.”

“Then do it,” replies Yuu quietly, cupping his other cheek. Mika leans into the contact with a warm exhale. “You can. I believe in you.”

Mika breathes out and Yuu breathes in, and god, he loves this feeling. “You make me feel like I’m actually living. There’s just a jumble of emotions inside me that are all associated with you. I can’t do it justice.”

And it’s Yuu’s turn to grin and giggle now, because his lover is so silly, sometimes. “This is what you’ve been stressing about for all these weeks? Darling, I’ll love the hell out of anything you write for me. I’ll make you play it for me all the time, blast it on the speakers while I’m driving, and make you cringe by singing it in the shower. You can do it. Take your time.”

Mika nods, and a beautiful smile blooms on his face as his head slides down to Yuu’s shoulder. “Okay…. Thanks, Yuu-chan.”

Yuu hums in lieu of a response, gripping Mika tighter when it becomes apparent that he’s falling asleep, warm and solid in his arms. He huffs a little in mock exasperation, but gathers his snoozing blond up anyway, heaving them off the couch, down the hall, and to the bedroom. He manages to situate them both under the covers--despite Mika’s incessant clinging and gangly limbs everywhere--and checks the time again: five in the morning.

“Good night, Mika,” Yuu whispers. Mika doesn’t speak, but the curl of a pinkie finger around his says enough.

Good night, Yuu-chan.