#like being able to do things is nice....but can i not. be suicidal. for once. please

[cetoddle-archive]

i'm confused because i feel like since my med adjustments my anxiety has gotten better and i can focus better which is fine but i don't see the point in that when i still want to fucking kill myself literally all the time always

[finnbbl]

Hold onto me

Bang Chan Written

Prompt: With your stressful life, it wasn’t easy to find a healthy way to cope. When Chan finds you at your worst, he makes sure to let you know that you’ve always got him to hold onto.

Genre: Angst/Comfort

Gender Neutral Reader

- Warnings: Panic attacks, mention caffeine OD implied (if you squint) mentions of self harm, using excessive caffeine to cope, suicidal thoughts, i don’t think there’s any swearing?

- A/N: This was kind of a self comfort thing I wrote, but I know other people struggle with these types of things as well. I hope this can help someone out

- Requests: OPEN

Masterlist

Please read disclaimer in masterlist

*click*

The sound of yet another can being opened. Your fourth, fifth, sixth energy drink today. It was easy to lose count when your mind was in a constant haze of self-deprecation, insecurity, and loneliness. Why should you be feeling any of this? You had a loving and amazing boyfriend who would compliment and reassure you daily. There should be no reason or excuse for you to live this way.

However, you let your mind get the best of you.

You continued to down your next energy drink within 5 minutes, rubbing your forehead as you continued typing your essay for college. Life stressed you out. Once you graduated, you moved on. Moving on to adulthood, college, work, you name it. Along with all these struggles, something a little more positive wiggled into your life. Your boyfriend, Chan. He was the sweetest guy you could ask for. Nice, caring, handsome, selfless, you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Your first four years weren’t bad, a little bump here and there but nothing like high school had been. Chan had found out how hard it was for you as a teenager. He’d walked in on a close relapse but was able to stop and comfort you. Help you recover, and you did.

Well, sort of.

That’s what Chan thinks anyway. It wasn’t a total lie, it had been a clean recovery for the most part. But as college got harder, the workload got larger, your social life got worse, and all that work to get better quickly dissipated. Of course, you couldn’t let him know that. Remembering the look on his face when you had explained what you used to deal with, and what it caused you to do to yourself. It was something you couldn’t bear to see again. So, you kept it hidden.

You kept it hidden by coping with it differently. Once you realized your previous method of relapsing wouldn’t work anymore, you turned to caffeine. Your previous method involved physically scarring yourself, and you couldn’t hide it. Any caffeine you could find. Soda, coffee, tea, energy drinks. Anything that could take your mind away from the horrible thoughts that clouded your mind. So there you found yourself, sipping on your seventh one of the day. Then your eighth, your ninth, the numbers continue to increase. Proceeding to drink them like they were water, unaware of the severe health problems it could lead to. Or maybe you were aware, and just couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Bang Chan had no idea about it. It was something you could easily keep hidden by destroying the evidence. The empty cans and bottles weren’t hard to get rid of. And with your boyfriend having to stay later than usual to prepare for new comebacks, it was even easier.

You rubbed your eyes with your fingertips and yawned. The clock read 1:30 a.m. It was well after midnight, a time when most would be asleep, resting, and preparing to start their day tomorrow. However, it was a different story for you. Of course for Chan as well, although he had a different situation. Your fingers went away at the keys on your keyboard. You were determined to finish this essay, knowing you’d probably be assigned another one in a few days. Suddenly, your phone dinged. You groaned as annoyance began to flow through you. All you wanted to do was get this stupid schoolwork done and go to bed. As you were about to turn your phone on silent, something caught your eye. A notification from your friend group chat. All you could do was stare at the unopened message, watching as the amount of notifications suddenly began to get larger and larger. Some of your friends were interesting, definitely toxic but there were only a few you had left. In your eyes, it was better to have someone who treats you horribly, rather than having no one. You knew you shouldn’t, but your dying curiosity got the better of you. Next thing you knew, you were reading through several degrading comments.

All about you.

One of your friends had completely snapped at you. Half of your mutual friends had turned against you because of her twisted words. Suddenly, it was like you were frozen. Nothing felt real, and you weren’t a hundred percent sure of what was happening anymore. They were throwing insults at you left and right, and you were too exhausted to defend yourself. It wasn’t long before you zoned out, completely forgetting about the work in front of you. Letting all the negative and self-degrading insults cloud your mind. You began to bathe in self-doubt thanks to the toxicity. It had been like this for years, that one specific friend turning everyone in your life against you. It’d cause you to have an episode, she’d apologize and guilt trip you. And you somehow fell for it. Despite all this, you had a couple of friends who stuck by your side no matter what. Aware of how manipulative she could be, they understood and sympathized with you. This was how it always was. Constantly being drowned in school work and stress, your suffering continues to grow with the emotional abuse. Those thoughts were quickly interrupted as you saw headlights shine through the windows of the living room. Chan had arrived home.

The headlights soon flashed off. Only moments later did Chan slowly and cautiously open the front door. He attempted to keep the noise level down, expecting you to be asleep. Much to his surprise, you were at the dining table in front of your computer. “Baby, what are you still doing up?” He asked sweetly as he shut the front door, locking it back. “Oh, hey Chan. How was your day?” You asked him, completely ignoring his question. Taking another sip of your newly opened energy drink, your eyes didn't leave the screen. You wanted to get this over with and do your best to push out all the self-hatred that your friends dispersed into you.

His eyes briefly darted to the drink that sat on the table next to you, a tinge of worry shooting through him. It wasn’t unusual to find you up late, but it was currently almost 2 am. Doing his best to brush it off, he walked over and sat his things on the kitchen counter. “Not sure how well you’ll sleep with that caffeine in your system.” He said in a joking manner, but also in hopes of bringing you to your senses. Nothing else was said, silence painted the room with only the sound of your typing. He glanced over at the screen, seeing the endless pages of words, that’s when Chris began to wonder…

“How long have you been working on that? Maybe I can help you so you can get to bed soon.” Chan said as he walked over next to you. He put one hand on the back of your chair and his other on the table, leaning down to get a better view of the computer. It was clear he was concerned. “It’s fine, Channie. I’ll get it done within the next uhhh.. couple hours?” He was in disbelief at what he was hearing. Although you stayed up late, you never slept after 12:30. The fact that you said you’d be done when it was nearing sunrise? It shocked him. “Maybe you should just finish this tomorrow, it’s getting late y/n-“

“I know it’s late, but I need this done tonight.” Cutting him off with a sharp tone and briefly looking up at him. He took a small step back at your sudden change. “Just go to bed, i’ll be there soon.” You turned back to your laptop, running your fingers through your hair. Chan could only stand there as he tried to process what had just happened. Sure you weren’t harsh, but you’d never talked to him like that before. After a few minutes, he decided he would clean up around the house a bit. With him being at work all the time, and you busy with college and your job, the house had collected more than dust. Chris already couldn’t sleep well, and knowing you were acting like this would have made resting impossible. He thought that keeping himself occupied until you were done would help. One by one, he went through every dirty dish, every dirty piece of laundry, and every dog toy scattered around from Berry who he now kept with you two. Over an hour had passed, and you still weren’t done. He wasn’t even sure that you realized he was still in the room.

Mutually, he hadn’t even noticed you had opened up two more energy drinks since he’d been here until he saw the cans on the table. He furrowed his eyebrows. One this late was one thing, but the two large-sized energy drinks afterward were another. Something about that irked him, he was big on health. However, he figured you’d had a long day, so he kept his mouth shut as he finished cleaning the house.

Then, his eye caught something.

The trash can. His mouth practically fell open when he saw it, shocked by the amount of empty bottles and cans. Just how much caffeine have you consumed today? Chan had many discussions with you about your health, it was one of the most important factors in life to him. And it was unusual for you not to take care of yourself, he wasn’t sure what to think.

“Y/N..“ he started and caught your attention. You hummed lowly in response, with only silence to follow. He was still in shock, he’d never expect someone like you to care so little about your health. His tongue dragged along the inside of his cheek, doing his best to keep calm. “Just how much caffeine have you had today..?” Chris asked you in a lecturing tone. You rubbed your forehead and sighed before briefly turning your swivel chair around to meet his eyes. “What?” Asking him as if you hadn’t heard. Your words were laced with annoyance, unaware of the events that were about to follow.

He couldn’t bring himself to answer you, only countering with another question of his own. “How many talks have we had about how important your health is?” Your boyfriend crossed his arms as you sighed once again. “I don’t see where you’re going with this.” He figured your head must have been too jumbled to pick up what he was putting down. Chan exhaled deeply as he pinched the bridge of his nose and squinted his eyes. Frustration nipped at him as he bit his tongue so he didn’t say something he’d regret. You were slowly pushing him over the edge.

“You know what, how about we put this away for the night so you can sleep.” The male had realized he was going to have to do more than just talk to get through to you. He thought that resorting to calmer words and taking more action would work. But before he could walk over and shut your laptop, you protested. “What? No, I need to get this done. I’m not finished.”

Chris bit the inside of his cheek and sighed heavily. “Again, go to bed and I’ll be there in a bit.” You continued before muttering something inaudible under your breath. It wasn’t long before your body was facing the computer once again. Anger and frustration began to course through him. What the hell had happened to you? Usually, you were calm and thought carefully about what you put in your body, but now you refused to even acknowledge that your health was declining. Not to mention, you’d gotten snappy with him. “Y/N, it is after 3 in the morning. I’m tired, I know you’re tired. Let’s go to bed and talk about this in the morning-“

“God Chan I do not need you lecturing me right now. I have shit to get done!” Cutting him off and whipping back around in your chair, you left him standing there dumbfounded. “For once, worry about yourself. I don’t need you standing over my shoulder telling me what to do.” The two of you locked eyes briefly. You don’t know what it was and what made you speak to him like that. Was it the stress? The caffeine? The self-hatred? Maybe it was a mix of it all that finally sent you over the edge. Your boyfriend clenched his fist as tears started to gloss over his eyes. A glint of hurt flashed over them before he finally snapped back.

“You know what? I don’t care anymore Y/N. Obviously, you don’t care about your health so don’t expect me to be there when fall to the ground of a heart attack!” His words shot right through your heart. Reality hit you. Immediately, your body shot up out of the chair, “Chan-“ Before you could apologize, you heard the bedroom door slam. You jumped at the loud noise. You could feel yourself start to disassociate, and it wasn’t long before you found your head buried in your hands. Silent sobs escaped through your lips. You weren’t even sure when your body gave out as you collapsed to the ground. The weight of the past month’s struggles all came crashing down on your shoulders at once. How could you be so stupid? The one person you knew you could count on to take care of you and keep you safe, you had pushed away. Realization hit as you glanced over to see the amount of caffeine you’d ingested in only 24 hours. As if on cue, your body finally started to react to it. Your heart felt as if it was beating out of your chest, your body got jittery and you’d only just noticed how much your anxiety had spiked.

A curse seeped through your lips as your cries got unnoticeably louder. At this point, your body and mind refused to forgive you. You started breathing heavier and faster as you found yourself hyperventilating, going back and forth between wanting to get better and wanting it to end. Your mind only brought back horrible memories as intense anxiety ran through your veins. The only sounds that filled the room were your cries, and the refrigerator humming in the background. It added such an eerie and unsettling feeling.

Meanwhile in the bedroom was Chan who had now changed into his sleep clothes. The events of the past few hours raced through his mind on loop. Beginning to replay your actions of the past month in his head, he searched for an answer on why you would be acting like this. You had hurt him, but it wasn’t deniable that you were most likely hurting too.

Hurt people, hurt people. He wasn’t angry, he was just worried sick. It was obvious you had been acting off, but he never knew you turned to caffeine to cope. And as if the male needed any more confirmation, the sound of your suffering slipped right through the walls to his ears. His body moved before he could think, immediately jumping up and making his way to the door.

As he opened it, he realized just how miserable you must’ve been the past month. Usually, he was one to check up on you. Doing small household tasks together and letting you rant about your day, then listen to his. But recently, that had not been the case. Something must’ve been going on that you refused to tell him. You were unaware that you’d caught his attention until you felt two strong arms wrap you in a warm embrace from behind. Your body immediately acted as you threw yourself up and into his arms. “Shh shh, it’s okay sweetheart.” Chan rubbed soothing circles over your back as he noticed how worked up you were. “Baby you’re shaking,” He briefly pulled back to meet your eyes. His fingers found their way under your eyes as he wiped away the tears that poured down your face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.”

You dug your head into the crook of his neck, continuing to mutter out apologies to him. “Please don’t leave me, please..” You begged him in between sniffles, which caught him a bit off guard. His lips poured into a frown. “I’m not going to leave you, why would I do that?” Chan’s tone was soft and comforting. However, the question flew through one ear and right out the other.

“I don’t want to hurt anymore Chan, please..” Confusion glossed over his eyes, you don’t want to hurt anymore? What were you talking about? His hands lifted your chin as he pulled his body back slightly to face you. “Slow down, what do you mean?” Worry made its way through his body, it was only then that he noticed just how much you were shaking. “I don’t want to do it anymore Chan, I can’t take it..” Unintentionally, pleas slipped right past your teeth. His eyes looked into yours with sympathy. “Oh, honey..” This was always something you did your best to keep hidden from him, your poor mental health. Chan was a very sweet person. Whenever he noticed that someone he loved was hurting, he made them his priority. Oftentimes, letting his health decline in the process. You had refused to let that happen. Not to mention, you weren’t sure how long he’d want to stay after seeing how weak and vulnerable you could be. It wasn’t that you didn’t believe he loved you, but your mind told you otherwise.

“What’s going on, what’s making you think like this hm?” His hand stroked through your hair, doing every single action of reassurance that he could. God how he hoped it was working. “I.. Everyone hates me and.. and I didn’t even do anything!” You suddenly broke. However, he didn’t scream, insult, or push you away. Quietly and patiently, he waited for you to continue. Making sure to keep you in a warm embrace, he did his best to soothe you. “And I’m drowning in school work and I’m just..”

"Is this about…" Chris suddenly asked you. This wasn't the first time you had come to him with a problem like this, but it was the worst by far. Your glossy eyes glanced up at his, your lips quivering as you held back tears. As if on cue, a ding was heard from the table. Followed by a few more and you immediately knew what was happening. More tears spilled down your face as you avoided eye contact. Curious, Chan looked between you and your phone. Hesitantly, he grabbed it. Anger started to run through his veins as he scrolled through all the chats. He only read a few before he decided to put it down. If he didn’t stop now, he wasn’t sure that everyone would make it out alive. The male turned back towards you, as he gently motioned for you to sit down on the floor. You began to sway, which worried him. Gently, his hands found yours. “Baby, I love you so much you know that?”

“And I want to respect whatever decisions you make because after all, it’s your life but..” He glanced back and forth between your two eyes as you waited for him to continue. This was something to be gone about carefully, the phrasing couldn’t be too harsh. “You have got to cut them off, they’re not good for your mental health and it’s starting to worry me.” You glanced up at him and then at the floor. He was right, there was no denying that. Healthily dealing with things like this was hard for you. “But.. I’m scared.”

“I know, I understand but… I’m concerned with the amount of caffeine you’re putting in your body.” Chan rubbed his thumb over your knuckle as your hand began to shake. “I thought.. I thought it would help distract me. I just wanted everything to end.” Your bottled-up feeling poured out like an ocean. Although Chan was thankful you were finally talking to him, he didn’t know what to do besides getting you help. That was going to be a challenge. “I just want you to be happy again, I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you eat a whole meal. Much less anything other than caffeine.”

He sighed, “Look I know it may not be what you want to hear, but you need help Y/N.” Unexpectedly, you didn’t protest. “You need to go to a professional, can you do that for me? I’ll even go with you.” You inhaled and exhaled deeply. Doctors terrified you, which is probably why you never went willingly before. The last time you needed help, you had to be dragged there by someone. And most of the time it was Chan. Your eyes met his before slowly nodding, causing a smile to tug on your boyfriend’s lips. His hand went up to the side of your head, fixing your hair a bit. “Can you smile for me, please?”

You didn’t budge and he let out a playful sigh. “Come onnnn, pleaseeeee.” He stuck his bottom lip out to form a pout, one glance is all it took for you to fold, your lips curving upwards into a soft smile. A small giggle from him sounded as he continued to stroke your hair. “There you go… come here.” You glanced at his arms which were now open and welcoming you into them as you crawled into his lap. He rocked you back and forth muttering small positive affirmations to you. Chan was someone you would be forever grateful for. He always knew how to help and cheer you up. The mutual love you guys had for each other was unmatched. So there you two were, in each other's arms as a comforting silence began to take over. With all the caffeine in your system, you both knew it was going to be nearly impossible for you to sleep tonight. There was a long road of recovery waiting for you ahead. However, with Chan, you knew everything was going to be okay.

[vennilavee]

Petrichor

pairing: stsg, geto x reader, gojo x reader, stsg x reader

summary: In the middle of the lush forest, there sits a lonely house on a hill. On a dark and rainy night, you find your way to the house and it's inhabitants while running away from a deep, dark secret that you refuse to confront. Little do you know that they welcome you with open arms because they want you in a way that you’ve never been wanted before. It’s so easy to succumb to the darkness once you’ve been invited in…

warnings: this is meant to be a horror fic so please heed with caution - vampire geto, ghost gojo, smut, biting, drinking of blood, bloodplay, unreliable narrators, murder, death and dying, suicide, everyone is a little freaky here including oc, yandere behaviors (i think??)

word count: 15k

a/n: meant to be written for spooky season in october...happy new year do not perceive me. HUGE thank you to @lovenona @libroparaiso @hoennislands for reading large chunks of this fic before i posted it, and @lovenona for the painting for the fic banner! i appreciate u<3

To add to an already terrible day, heavy and dark storm clouds cover the expanse of the sky before splitting open. Rain follows the split seam, pelting down and landing on your car before being met with your windshield wipers.

It’s a good thing you had your tires replaced recently, you think distractedly while tightening your grip on the wheel. 

The rumble of your car’s engine is the only noise you hear as you zip through the barely there road in the forest. There are no cars on this road. There are no lights, save for the high beams bursting from your car.

It feels as if you are going in circles, despite the GPS telling you that you are on the right path. You can barely see five feet ahead of you as the rain begins to downpour. You hate driving in storms. 

Perhaps you should pull over, rather than potentially wrap your car around a tree while trying to get out of this storm. Can you beat it? Can you beat the ominous clap of thunder and the bright streak of lightning? 

In the distance, you hear the winds picking up speed as the towering trees sway. The last thing you need is to die because a tree fell on you. 

All you were trying to do was clear your head with a nice, soothing drive after what can only be described as the worst week of your life. The weather forecast didn’t include heavy rain with zero visibility today. You must just be incredibly lucky.

Driving in this weather will surely result in your premature death. You make a split second decision and pull over to the side of the road, glancing at the umbrella in your passenger seat.

You scoff, stepping out into the darkness and further into the belly of the forest.

Night has fully draped over the forest and yet, the rain has not relented. You must have been walking, following your GPS for hours now. And yet, it seems as if you continue to walk further and further away from the road.

You are drenched and shivering, possibly looking like a drowned animal as you trek through the mud and fallen branches. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to return to your car. There is no way to tell what direction it’s in anyway.

So you continue on, shivering with the hood of your jacket covering your head and cursing the skies for leaving you stranded in this endless storm. Your phone vibrates with weather alerts indicating that you should seek shelter due to extreme flooding.

How ironic.

Your umbrella is long gone, proving to be useless with the force of the rain and the wind. You are completely alone in the lush, green forest. Perhaps you stop and appreciate the scent of petrichor if you weren’t so stuck and at the mercy of the unseen forces from above.

You don’t know how much you endure the walk, but you see something in the distance. Something warm, something like the light. 

A tall, dark house sits on a hill barely visible with the darkness of the night. But you can clearly see the warmth of the lights that emanate from inside the house. 

It feels like a reprieve, a lighthouse as you are lost at sea. So you run towards the warmth.

The house is more of a mansion, you realize as you stand in front of the ornate, mahogany door. Green vines twist around the door as if to protect the house from any trespassers. They seem to pulsate when you touch them, hissing at you in an attempt to send you away.

You shiver again.

Lilies and red roses line the entryway to the front door. Despite the remote location of this strange mansion, clearly someone maintains the upkeep of it.

You’ve never seen a viridian so vibrant. It’s hard to take your eyes away from it, tracing the way drops fall from the vines onto the stark white lilies before dripping onto the meticulously carved stone pathway.

The rain pours down on you heavily, and it rolls off of your trembling shoulders. It feels dry here, like the sun is gently peering out. This strange mansion must be an oasis, or a safe haven for those lost in the woods.

You knock on the door impatiently, hoping that someone, anyone, can save you from the storm. A crack of thunder splits your ears and you jump, knocking again.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter under your breath, “Please, it’s freezing-”

The magnificent door creaks loudly before being pulled open dramatically, only to reveal a tall, white haired man with striking and absurdly blue eyes.

You can’t look directly at him for too long. You think you’ll be blinded.

“How annoying,” he drawls, “Annoying and impatient.”

“My car broke down,” you interrupt, your teeth chattering, “Please, I’m so cold-”

“Oh?” he looks you up and down several times over with an infuriating, smug grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Can you please assess whether I’m a thief or a murderer or anything equally as dramatic while I’m inside?” you say, glaring at him, “I’ve been walking for hours, please let me in until the storm passes over. I’m begging you.”

“You’re lucky you’re so charming when you beg,” he says, waving you in.

Warmth immediately engulfs you and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Didn’t you call for help?”

“My phone has no service,” you reply easily, staring him right in the eye.

“No service, What a shame. I suppose it cannot be helped,” he shrugs, “Didn’t you hear? This storm is supposed to last several days. You must be a fool for driving through this.”

“I guess so-”

“Especially in the forest. You never know what’s lurking around here.”

His smile fades and he looks at you pointedly, as if he’s looking straight through you. His gaze unnerves you but still, it takes you half a second to decide you’re staying here in the dry warmth. 

Besides, it’s not like you have anywhere to go.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says simply and begins walking away from you. Does he care to know the name of a complete stranger that he just let into his home? 

“Aren’t you afraid of strangers? Have you learned nothing from the movies? I could kill you when your back is turned,” you reply as you follow behind him.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Gojo laughs, but it sounds hollow as it echoes through the hall.

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re stuck in the middle of this horrendous storm with only me and the inhabitants of this house for company. You think I have reason to fear you?”

Gojo Satoru stops walking and abruptly turns to face you, crowding your vision. He speaks to you, but you’re not quite listening. You’re too enchanted by the odd blue of his eyes. Eyes that bright and deep simply do not exist beyond the walls of this house.

You think you may drown if you stare for too long. Gojo’s skin is pale, even when the lights hit the angles of his handsome face. Maybe there is a halo around his head, invisible to your eye. After all, he is the only semblance of a human that you have encountered in the last six hours. 

He must be an angel, sent to shepherd you through this storm.

Inhabitants. Gojo mentioned other inhabitants, but you have yet to see anyone else in the house. Despite the emptiness of the house, it looks homey and cozy, with trinkets and odd items strewn about. It is clear that someone lives here. Someone other than Gojo.

You try not to let curiosity get the best of you and just focus on getting warm. With chattering teeth, you allow scalding hot water to drench your skin and your hair. Trying to catch your breath as you shake like a leaf under the spray.

All alone in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with no escape. It’s enough to make anyone nervous, but you welcome it like a reprieve. A second chance. A rebirth.

You brace yourself against the wall of the shower and watch absently as blood mixes with water into the drain. 

Wholly unaware of the pair of eyes watching you in the bath, you sigh heavily as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It is. Everything is-

No. You won’t think about it, not now.

You can’t feel the graze of his fingertips, not when he caresses the slope of your neck or presses his fingertips to your hips. Not even when he rubs the inside of your soft thighs, or flutters over your calves just to feel the warmth of your skin. He traces the curvature of your spine with the palm of his hand, while you are none the wiser.

He stands in front of you, admiring the way you turn your neck from side to side and rub your sore muscles. Will you let your hands drift downwards? Would you give him that reprieve?

Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, spilling into his palms without any misgivings. He’d nearly forgotten how velvety a woman’s skin was. Much less a human’s. A gasp leaves his lips as he massages your chest, meeting your eyes eagerly. But you can’t see him. 

Your cheeks are heated as you lather soap on your skin with hooded eyes and bitten lips. He leans closer, sniffing your neck- you smell divine, what a gorgeous gift you might be…

And then he is called away abruptly, lamenting that loss of your warmth curled away in his hands.

A dark emerald silk robe lays on the pristinely made bed. It’s buttery and soft against your fingertips and it looks brand new. You can’t help but try it on, and somehow it fits you as if it was tailored for you. It’s perfect. You do a little spin in front of the full-length mirror and giggle to yourself, marveling at how it fits you perfectly. 

The guest bedroom he showed you to is massive, with ornate cherry wood furniture and a four poster bed that seems like it was custom made.

The warm scent of sandalwood remains on the duvet and on the pillows as you sink into the bed and try to get comfortable. It’s been such a long day and you just want to rest…

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep in this odd house despite only having been here for a few hours. The storm rages on outside, rain battering against the windows as it lulls you into the first peaceful slumber you’ve had in months.

It has been a long time since a human showed up drenched, terrified and shivering to his home. In the modern age, it seemed that less and less people would venture this deep into the forest. In the old days, it would have been the odd traveler or warriors passing by through the night or a woman running away from her betrothed.

Those were always his favorite visitors. These days, it’s usually just foolish, inebriated teenagers or a stray fox. Definitely not nearly as entertaining.

He remains hidden, until Gojo tells him to come out of the shadows. For now, he will remain content to watch you from a distance in his own home. Your shoulders are tense but your face is friendly as you chat away with the white-haired man as you nurse a warm cup of tea in your hands.

You keep him at arm’s length but not too far away so as to arouse suspicion from the man who gave you shelter during such a horrendous storm.

It smells so sweet inside now. Like nectar and honey and flowers. He had a feeling that dark green would be your color, anyway.

There is a portion of the house that Gojo has warned you to not enter. About half of the house is dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house that you have seen. The quietness of the hallway just a few short steps away from your bedroom is eerie. 

You can’t help but look beyond the threshold and into the darkened hallway. 

With the risen moon in the storm as your witness, you ignore Gojo Satoru’s voice in your head and take a few tentative steps towards the forbidden part of the house.

The bedroom at the end of the hall.

It’s not your fault. He shouldn’t have made it sound so enticing.

An owl hoots in the distance, just outside the house. Is the storm still devastating the forest? It’s awfully quiet. Save for your clumsy footsteps. How long has it been? A night? Three?

Darkness is your only company as your heart thunders in your ears and you push against the heavy wooden door. A single turn of the knob reveals that the door is in fact, unlocked. 

You exhale, very aware of the hairs standing at the back of your neck. Turning your head, you squint into the darkness. Trying to shake the inevitable feeling of being watched in this endless abyss of a hallway.

You have to know. You must know why this room is forbidden to you.

So you push the door open with your full strength, only to be met with even more darkness. Somehow, it’s a different kind of darkness. The kind of darkness that swallows you and does not spit you back out. The kind that you surrender to.

Surrender comes easily.

Your pupils cannot seem to adjust to the dark, no matter how long you stand here in the forbidden room. Waiting for something - anything - a stream of moonlight, a flicker of a candle. Instead, you stand in the middle of this airy room, one that you can’t see even five feet in front of you in.

A shiver rips down your spine as the door slams shut with a sudden gust of wind from a seemingly closed window whips around you, only for the air to remain perfectly still and breathless.

Amethyst eyes stare back at you in the unmoving darkness. Mirth is clear in these eyes and your shock is amusing, it appears.

“Can’t follow instructions, can you?” The voice is syrupy and magnetic. You hear the voice, beckoning you closer, but you cannot see where the voice is coming from. 

He is illuminated by a sudden flash of thunder just by the large French windows. 

This is what Gojo must have meant by inhabitants.

The stranger stalks towards you, his steps languid and sure. You’re frozen in place, unable to move. Too mesmerized by the gold flecks in his violet eyes, and the curtain of glossy, black hair that billows with each step he takes.

Light does not need to brighten his face for him to announce his presence.

“Not great at following rules, are we?”

“Rules?” you manage to reply after a beat, squeezing your fingers together in an attempt to ground yourself. He notices, a barely there smirk forming on his handsome face.

He towers over you like a god of the skies, with the moon as his crown.

“You were told not to come here, weren’t you?” His voice is coated by soft velvet, curling around you but leaving you cold.

“Gojo’s told you about me?” you ask curiously. He talks about you? To this chiseled stranger? The thought makes your heart flutter and heat to flood your cheeks.

“I know all about the lost women who seek sanctuary in my home,” he says softly, a hand curling around your jaw. Your eyes drift to his glossy lips briefly. It’s impossible for you to look away from him, his eyes are magnetizing as they stare right through you. As if you are made of glass.

He chuckles.

The erratic beating of your heart thrums in his ears as blood rushes through your veins like syrup. He licks his lips as your eyes drop to follow his tongue eagerly. 

What a foolish girl. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already rubbing your thighs together. His reflection looks back at him in your glossy, dark eyes.

Oh, you are exquisite, a divine little thing wrapped up in a bow. A gift given to him by his lover. 

Gojo Satoru is a man of celestial tastes and he always has been for decades. He must remember to praise his lover on a job well done, after all. It’s not often that a woman with blood as sweet and ripe as yours falls into his bedroom serendipitously.

Your eyes are wide and wanting, waiting for him to say something. You just want to hear the melody of his voice once more. Just once more. Another few minutes until you leave his bedroom. Just once more.

His touch is icy cold as his thumb parts your lips further, a sharp exhale blowing against his face. A shiver wracks your spine once more but you will not leave his embrace. The simple touch makes you feel alive again, as if you have been searching and searching for something for years but have not been able to find it.

It feels familiar and foreign.

“Go back to bed, girl,” he says dismissively.

“Can’t I stay? With you?” you ask unabashedly, reaching for his velvet, black robe. You catch a sliver of his tanned chest from underneath his robe and swallow.

He is vaguely reminded of a stray kitten, desperate for attention. Adorable, and pathetic.

“Not yet,” he replies, disappearing back into the darkness that he emerged from with a featherlight touch to your cheek, “Not yet.”

His voice echoes through the walls of the grand bedroom, bouncing off of the ornate paintings. You leave the room, wondering if the enigmatic man with purple eyes was merely just a dream conjured up by the wildest parts of your subconscious.

Time must operate on a different frequency in this house. You’ve slept at least six nights here, and yet the storm is as vengeful as it was the first day you arrived at the house. There is no sign of the storm easing up, either. With no end in sight, you continue to explore the house, thoughts of your car long forgotten.

You’ve yet to come across the purple-eyed man again.

Gojo Satoru is the best company you’ve had in weeks. Possibly months, or years. He finds you in the library more often than not, or in the garden. 

The garden that seemingly has not been marred by the wicked winds of the storm. Somehow, the house stands still, impervious to mother nature.

“What are you reading today?” comes a voice far too close to your ear. Gojo Satoru loves invading your personal space, as you’ve come to learn.

“It’s a history book,” you reply, not looking up from the page you’re on. He doesn’t need to know, but you’ve stopped reading the page ever since you noticed him appear in the room. You’ve been waiting for him to stop by, as he always does.

“How absolutely fascinating,” he says, sitting next to you and pushing the book aside to lay his head on your lap, “Now you have something nicer to look at.”

“Is that so?”

You look down at him, once again startled by the blue of his eyes. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, it always takes your breath away. It takes a moment to adjust to the unnatural hue of his eyes and his stark white hair.

He smiles at you. At that moment, he looked so boyish and young. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“You’ve made quite a home for yourself here, haven’t you,” he muses.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you don’t sound particularly troubled by it.

“Not at all. Don’t you want to get back home? I’m sure you have people wondering where you are. A child? A spouse?” he probes, eyebrows raising when your heart quickens at the mention of a spouse.

“He’s not waiting or wondering where I am,” you say bitterly, immediately tensing up, “He never loved me.”

“I’m sure he’s worried about you-”

“No. He’s not,” you say with a note of finality. You look away, at your hands in your lap as your face falls and something far away settles on your features. Your lips tug into a slight frown. 

“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you love them. He wasn’t worthy,” Gojo soothes you with a comforting squeeze of your hands.

“No, he wasn’t,” you reply. Your eyes are glassy and distant, as if you are replaying a memory of your past in your mind. It was simple, until it wasn’t. You were enough, until you weren’t. “I am deserving of a lover who would do anything for me.”

“Of course you are, darling,” he says, sitting up and tilting your chin up to meet your eyes, “I’m sorry anyone convinced you otherwise.”

You turn toward him, meeting his gaze with big, watery eyes. Your hands are held tightly within his, as you lean towards him. Allowing your gaze to flicker to his pouty lips and back to his eyes.

“You deserve a lover who would write you love letters,” he murmurs, “Compare you to the moon’s beauty.” A kiss to your chin. “Be your lighthouse in the storm.” A kiss to your cheek. “Protect you from the darkness of the world by destroying it. Keep you safe,” A kiss to your eyelid. “A lover who would do anything for you.” A kiss to the corner of your lips.

“A lover who would kill for you.”

A final barely there kiss to your lips. Your cheeks are warm, chest fluttering as you lean into him once more to press your lips to his again. He lays back against the couch so that you lay on top of him comfortably as you chase his kisses. You are impatient, your hands straying to his hair, to his chest to unbutton his shirt.

Your moans are soft in his ears, as if you haven’t been touched like this in forever. Gojo watches the pretty planes of your face shift as he focuses his energy on you, on gripping your hips and letting his hands wander over you before resting on your chest. Your heart is hammering away, soft and delicious.

He looks ethereal under you, fallen from the skies above. You can’t pull away, certainly not from the foreign look in his eyes. One that you’ve never seen before, not in your husband, not in previous lovers… It’s for you, the look of ripe, unbitten desire.

“Oh, you are a gorgeous thing, aren’t you?”

Your skin feels overheated- with too many layers covering the space between you and the man beneath you. You struggle to take your dress off, but Gojo replaces your fingers with his own.

“I’ll take care of you, won’t I? You’ll let me take care of you?”

You nod wordlessly as he lifts you up to take your dress off. You sit completely naked on top of him while he is still clothed.

Your face is buried in his neck as you rut your hips against him, trying to gain friction. Gojo looks up and to the side, feeling a pair of eyes on his back. Purple meets blue and he winks at his lover and smiles before turning his attention to you.

He hopes his dear lover is watching.

Geto Suguru is exhausted, deep within his centuries old bones. Blood does not come by the house as often as it used to, and while it would be just as easy to go to the nearest city to get his fill…

It does not hold the same pleasure anymore. Besides, when his lover is intent on finding him an everlasting source of blood, who is he to argue?

He is just so hungry, absolutely famished. It doesn’t help that a brilliant and beautiful damsel is sleeping in his home, just down the hall. He can hear your soft breaths and the rustle of the sheets as you twist and turn. Are you dreaming of him?

He supposes he can find out just as easily.

He enters your dreams with hardly any resistance from you. Your mind is malleable as he sifts through as if flipping pages of a book. There are patches of grey darkness melded in with hues of emerald and cerulean and amber as he takes a look around the essence of your mind. 

It’s almost as if your subconscious can sense his presence and clears a path for him.

There you are, standing in a cemetery surrounded by fallen leaves and dead trees. The sky is grey, fitting with the melancholy that surrounds the cemetery. A breeze in the air whistles through his hair and leads him to you.

Sitting in front of a tiny memorial with an odd smile on your face. 

Is this a dream, or is this a memory?

He makes a note of the name on the memorial, just as you lift your head and stare vacantly at him. Almost as if he’s made of glass and you are looking straight through him to the other side.

The dream shifts in a puff of smoke and he is suddenly in an apartment shrouded in shadows and darkness with nothing but the sounds of hoarse voices speaking loudly to each other. Not quite yelling, but not quite talking quietly either.

“... You never loved me, never made me a priority-”

“That’s not true and you know it-”

“You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you-”

“You have this version of love in your fucked up head that doesn’t exist. That nobody can live up to-”

“I just want you to love me and protect me!”

Then there is crying and harsh screaming. It grates against his eardrums before ebbing away into nothingness. 

Until he is flung into an ocean of blood and nearly drowns trying to get back into reality.

An envelope outside your bedroom door awaits you after your morning walk in the garden. It is addressed to you, with your name written in black ink in cursive with a large wax seal. You run your finger over the seal in awe.

Who exactly are the men who live in this house, anyway?

The letter reads: 

You are cordially invited to join me for dinner tonight, at 6:30 PM sharp. You will find three dresses in the closet of your bedroom. Choose wisely. 

I look forward to our evening together.

There is no signature, only initials embossed in the parchment paper in silky, black print. The initials are shiny and wet, as if it was just signed and placed under your bedroom door.

You hold the letter close to your chest, unable to keep the giddy smile off of your face. Ever since you were a young girl, you’ve always dreamed of a lover who would write you letters dictating their unconditional love for you.

You look at the letter again, tracing over the initials gently and press a gentle kiss to the ink. How utterly enchanting.

You decide on the muted mauve gown with tiny, shimmering stars embedded into the tulle. Will your mysterious dinner guest be happy with your choice? Which of the three dresses did he want to see you in?

Your heart flutters at the thought of seeing the long, dark haired man with otherworldly eyes chance a glance at you once more.

He awaits you in lustrous black robes at the bottom of the neverending marble spiral staircase, looking like a painting come to life. Your breath catches in your throat when he meets your eyes with that soft up-turn of his lips.

“Good evening,” he says, voice carrying as he offers his arm to you, “Your punctuality is alluring.”

“Only my punctuality?” you ask breathlessly.

“I suppose that remains to be determined, doesn’t it?” 

He leads you to the dining room, one of the many rooms you have not explored yet. A heavy chandelier glitters above the dark mahogany table and if you look for longer than a second, you’d be able to see your reflection in it.

“I’ve observed you, you know. Exquisite taste in books,” he informs you.

“Oh, yes, I’m…well-read, I guess,” you shrug, taking a sip of your flavorful soup.

“I’ve seen you in the library. That old couch isn’t very comfortable. Is it you who leaves my books out in disarray?” he teases.

“What?! I never left behind a mess-” you protest but relax when you see his grin, “Oh. Don’t make fun of me.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He barely touches his full plate of food, instead opting to take in your presence in his home. In just a few short days, you’ve made this house your own home.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice curling around you and warming your cold hands, “What are you reading? What’s caught your attention?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” you say vaguely, “I like history.” 

“History? What about history interests you?”

“Well… I like learning about the past,” you muse, “We’re doomed to repeat history if we don’t see the patterns throughout time…”

“Yes, we certainly are,” he nods, “History is funny that way.”

“It is. Our own histories are just a reflection of that, too.”

“Oh?”

“We’re doomed to make the same mistakes if we don’t recognize our own flaws… I suppose.”

“And what are your flaws?” he asks smoothly, making you laugh.

“I have none, couldn’t you tell?” you reply with a wink.

He merely looks at you, staring at you as if he can see right through you into the fibers of your soul. It’s unnerving, and you look away to focus on your food and on chewing each bite thoroughly. He doesn’t eat much, if anything, only drinking every few minutes from his glass of wine. But his eyes remain transfixed on you even as you sit in silence.

“I want to show you something,” he says once you’re finished with your meal.

You nod and let him lead the way.

He takes you through the garden, past freshly bloomed tulips, cherry blossoms and red spider lilies and dewy, green bushes. Your eyes are suddenly filled with color, but all you can fix your gaze on is the man who glides in front of you with your hand in his.

His hand is cold, but his voice is warm like tea.

The summer rains continue to fall, but not on you. 

In the center of the vast garden sits a shimmering lake with the bluest, clearest water that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes are wide in wonder. Is there a mountain hidden beyond the trees?

“This lake wasn’t here when we moved into the house,” the man says softly.

“How is that possible?”

“The universe gave her to us when we needed her most,” he replies, turning his head with an intense stare.

“And you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact with him to look back at the lake. The man is intense, like a blazing fire in the darkness. You can’t help but hold onto his every word as he regales you with the tale of how he stumbled upon this forest. His voice is enchanting as it echoes through the silent forest- the trees must be listening to his reverence as well.

He reminds you of a tortured prince.  His voice is heard from further and further away as you marvel at the stillness of the young lake. Soon, you can’t hear his voice at all.

The thought should scare you, but you feel safe and protected by the trees in this forest.

You hardly realize how far you’ve walked by yourself, to the other side of the lake. Excitement (maybe adrenaline) settles in your bones as a sudden impenetrable fog emerges, and yet you touch it, wrap your hands around it. As if it has a heartbeat.

It surrounds you but is gentle in its caress as you pick up the skirt of your dress to avoid tumbling as you sprint through the woods.

The trees fade away behind you.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Air fills your lungs like a reprieve. Just before you let it go and gulp down air again. The crunch of boots on fallen leaves and sound of birds fleeing does nothing to quell the nerves in your belly.

The puffy sleeve of your dress catches on a stray branch, the pretty tulle ripping into shreds. What a waste of such a beautiful dress, you think absently. Your arm begins to bleed profusely but you pay it no mind.

You are a princess, being sought after by the monster in the closet.

Geto Suguru nearly hisses when the scent of fresh blood permeates the air like a  barely hidden vice. It’s sweet, like a freshly plucked peach on a summer day.

He wonders how you’d taste on his tongue, your neck bare and craned all for him…

Dull pain radiates across his gums as his fangs descend further. Your sharp laugh pierces the uneasy quiet of the dark forest. His runaway princess, always seemingly ten steps ahead of him.

You flit in between the trees, looking over your shoulder with curious, cautious eyes. Even from this distance at the edge of the forest, he sees honey dripping from your wild eyes. 

As you look over your shoulder, you see him taking languid steps toward you. When you blink, he’s there, a shrouded shadow that you nearly miss in your line of sight. When you blink again, he’s gone. Your sprints slow to a walk before you stop completely. In the middle of these strange woods, you look up to the sky, only to see a shroud of endless grey descending upon you.

Purple blinks back at you from high up in the trees. You shiver, and he suddenly stands in front of you, his velvety black robes billowing behind him.

“You have every opportunity to leave,” he says silkily. His words melt over you, dripping onto your skin like hot candle wax. The warmth is soothing and you would do anything he asked, you think.

“I know,” you say softly.

His eyes sear into yours, searching and burning through you as he comes closer. His touch is cold as his index finger remains on your jaw, stroking your cheekbone slowly. Your eyes are wide, shining eagerly with obedience.

His lips part, his gleaming fangs lengthening so daintily and his eyes shift from purple to black. But he is still his welcoming self, with his easy smile and his gentle touch. Except, the way he smiles is different.

The shift is there, but barely recognizable. 

“You should’ve run away, little dove, ” he says softly in your ear as you shiver in his hold, “When you had the chance to.”

You shake your head, only making him graze your neck further. You are ravishing, the slow honey in your body gushing like a waterfall.

“There is nothing for me beyond this forest anymore,” you whisper softly into his ear. His lips flutter warmly against the column of your neck.

The first bite is always the most painful, but it eases away as quickly as it came as his fangs sink heartily into the delicate skin of your neck. Right next to your jugular vein, but not quite.

A sigh echoes through the forest, barely a noise over the sound of drops of your blood dripping onto his tongue. It is euphoric- your eyes flutter shut when his fangs pierce further into your neck. Almost straight into the vein.

If he’s not careful, he might drain you dry. That would be…tragic, considering the promise he made to Gojo.

But you are so sweet. Like nectar, and you walked right into his home with open arms, tangled in his decadent web.

Your grip on his robes is tight as you somehow pull him closer. As if you want him to take more out of you. How greedy. But he doesn’t, instead pulling away and licking his lips. His eyes revert back to their chilling purple as he keeps his gaze on you.

You sigh again, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. And yet, something flutters in your belly, making you smile and look up at him with lovestruck eyes.

“What’s your name?” you exhale, your breaths coming out in cold wisps as the wind bites your skin.

He smirks at you, fangs still tinted red with your blood. Your heart races.

“Geto Suguru,” he murmurs, brushing a stray drop of blood away from your neck with his lithe finger and licking it.

He says your name softly before he kisses you, the taste of metal ripe on your lips like a summer peach. Your knees immediately buckle as he slips further into your mouth. Despite the chill of his fingertips, a fire alights in your belly and spreads and spreads. Your breaths are erratic as you trail after him, struggling to keep up.

Your name in his mouth sounds like a promise.

The slight pain in the back of your head throbs lightly with each thready thought that forms in your brain, and yet all you can think about is the way Geto Suguru’s lips felt on your neck. The cold touch of his fingertips against your skin as he meticulously drank your blood.

Your blood. He chose you and he came after you in that forest.

It makes you giddy. It makes the headache worth it.

Slowly, the night turns into day. Repetitively, you hear the sound of the cozy rain and the sharpness of the wind against the windows nearly rattling the house. You don’t recall the last time you saw the sun, and yet light filters into the house through the skylights placed in the living room.

You don’t question it. It’s better than the alternative, being stuck in that stuffy house with your awful husband. Your husband who never cared for you, who never sought you out. Made you his priority.

Despite the fancy jewelry and pristine silks, the way you would dote on him, he never noticed you. He probably didn’t even notice that you were gone, anyway. You were supposed to be his favorite. His only. 

No matter. Geto Suguru drank your blood today. Nobody else’s but yours. Are you his favorite? His only?

You can’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous thought as you gingerly touch your neck and soothe the bite marks. Of course, you’re his only. You are the only woman in this house, save for Gojo Satoru. And he has been nowhere to be seen as of late. 

You must be his favorite.

“Jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Suguru says, chuckling as Satoru glares at him and throws a pillow at him half-heartedly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Satoru sighs dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Now you’re just being juvenile,” Suguru says, tossing the pillow back. The air is briefly knocked out of Satoru’s lungs and he tries to sit up. He glares at his lover, but the heat in his bright eyes falters as he reaches for him and cradles his jaw.

“You know this is only a means to an end,” he soothes.

“Sorry I can’t be a human again so you could drink my blood,” Satoru says petulantly, “You like her, I know you do.”

“There’s no need to be accusatory,” Suguru replies, airily, “And there’s no reason to lie. I know you like her, too. As if I don’t know that you watch her when you shouldn’t.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but his shoulders slump as he slides into Suguru’s warm embrace. “I just…I wish I could bleed for you the way you need me to. I wish I could fulfill you in the way this stranger can.”

“Oh, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I,” Suguru says softly, tightening his hold around Satoru’s narrow waist, “You brought her into our home for me. There must have been something about her that was alluring to you.”

“It’s not everyday you find a woman who abandoned her car in the middle of the worst storm in years only to show up drenched at the front door. The opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t resist.”

“She seems in no rush to leave. To go back home. We should find out why,” Suguru muses, his train of thought interrupted by Satoru’s wandering hands.

“That’s a later problem,” Satoru murmurs, letting his fingers trail up his thigh. His touch is fleeting, barely there. Just applying the tiniest pressure behind his knee, where he knows Suguru is sensitive. He shudders- it’s funny, that a vampire as old as him can still feel flustered by a simple caress.

Well, Satoru has had many opportunities to learn over the centuries from the Meiji era to now. They were both young high school boys when they met, with dreams of samurai becoming distant as their worlds cracked wide open by the introduction of new literature, new teachers, new philosophies. They were still boys, running through empty fields, sharing copies of the same books. Sharing shade under the same tree branch.

Sharing each other’s first kiss. They were boys, until they weren’t.

The clocks continued to spin until neither of them could control the inevitable passage of time. Time pulled them apart, Satoru to Tokyo and Suguru back to the countryside to take care of his parents and the farm he left behind.

They found each other again, this time under much more dire circumstances. Vampirism was spreading through Japan like a plague, and Suguru wanted to know everything about it. What was eternal life like? Was it beautiful, did it contain multitudes? Was there anything human about an immortal being?

His questions were meaningless because it didn’t take long for him to succumb to a vampire bite. His parents were dead and everything on the farm was gone, ripped to pieces and blood splattered across the wooden walls of the barn.

It took him about three decades to discover that the carnage was laid out by him. He was turned and he rained blood on his own home. It took another decade to find the vampire nest who did this to him.

Then another three decades to find Gojo Satoru once more.

He had been nestled in the heart of Tokyo, as a teacher of all things. There had been a very brief, happy reunion. It didn’t take Suguru long to realize that something was off about Satoru. The coincidences were too many- he was flighty and impulsive, rarely eating (in fact, Suguru can’t recall the last time he saw him eat any food), and he swears that his skin was translucent in the sunlight. 

“Something is keeping me here,” Satoru muses with his lover’s head in his lap, “Can’t imagine what it is.”

“I don’t want you to cross the Sanzu River, not without me,” Suguru says firmly, looking at him with red eyes.

“Is there an afterlife for vampires?” Satoru muses, “I mean, I’m surely safe. I’m a ghost, after all. A spirit tethered to the material earth, or something.”

“If you wanted to leave, you would.”

“Yes,” he says solemnly, “I suppose I would.”

It has been decades since that day and the universe has pulled them apart and brought them back together many times. For two immortal beings, spending five or eight or fifteen years apart is just a blip in the fabric of time. They both find each other each time, even when Suguru was contemplating his entire existence as a vampire and a former human. 

He had become Japan’s most infamous vampire for a period of time after draining over a hundred humans completely of their blood. How was it just, for them to hold two little vampire girls hostage when they had no say in being turned?

Suguru couldn’t stomach it- how isolating and selfish humans could be in the face of adversity. In the name of self-righteousness.

Never again, he vowed. Never again would he allow humans to treat his own that way. But Satoru brought him back from the brink of sure destruction, before Suguru could decimate the entirety of Japan.

Satoru wouldn’t let him give in to his most primal urges. He wouldn’t let Suguru lose himself because he couldn’t be bound to the earth without him-

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Don’t tell me you care-”

“I can’t let you do this to me, you can’t leave me here! Not for this. Not for them.”

“You’re selfish, Satoru!”

“So are you,” he scoffs.

But that was the end of it. Suguru’s eyes had returned to their purple and Satoru whisked him away. 

He had whisked him away from all the noise, the blood, the chaos to the towering castle in the trees that they currently lived in in the quiet of the forest-

“Hey,” Satoru questions, poking his cheek, “You just spaced out for a while.”

“I was thinking about you,” Suguru replies, turning his head to meet his caress. 

“As always-”

“You saved me. And you continue to save me,” Suguru says, “So let me show you my undying gratitude.”

Satoru hopes desperately that you can hear the echoes of his pleasure from your bedroom.

The house seems to have transfigured into more of a castle the longer you stay here. Winding staircases appear out of thin air complete with unfamiliar corridors and twists and turns.

But what remains the same is the library and how often you frequent it. The entire history of the universe must be kept in these bookshelves. There isn’t enough time in the day for you to read all of the treasures inside the library that seems to get bigger everyday.

You have been reading the same book for some time now, getting distracted by thoughts of Gojo Satoru. He hasn’t come to visit you in the library recently and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to upset him for him to avoid you.

He comes and goes as he pleases. As if he’s there but he’s not there at all.

“There you are,” you say easily, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Can I help you?” Satoru says petulantly. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Whatever gave you that idea,” he deadpans, still not looking at you.

“Oh, come on,” you whine, tugging at his hand, “You can tell me anything.”

His head turns to you abruptly, too quickly to be considered normal. With narrowed eyes, he searches your face for any sign of deceit.

Satoru scoffs and lays back on the bed dramatically. You follow his actions and face him, meeting his terribly piercing gaze. Unable to stop yourself, you allow your fingers to graze his pale cheek. When he doesn’t flinch, you let your hand rest on his chest. He is more muscular than he looks, you think.

As if Satoru can read your thoughts, he turns to you and glares at you.

Comfortable silence fills the room. He stares at you, thoughts swirling behind those azure eyes, willing himself to speak.

Satoru pretends like he doesn’t notice your hand drifting down further.

“I found you first,” he mumbles, “And I found him first.”

“You did find me first,” you muse, “When nobody else wanted me, you did.”

Your grip on his shirt tightens briefly. 

“And now he’s drinking your blood and I can’t-”

“Oh, Satoru,” you say softly, “You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, but his silence conveys all you need to know. If Satoru could blush, his cheeks would be tinted a rosy color. You vowed before, to never let yourself feel as unwanted and lonely as you did in that relationship. And to never let anyone else feel that same loneliness.

His name is a honeyed whisper on your tongue that he wishes to pull from your pretty lips as often as he can. 

“I found you both first,” Satoru replies harshly before he presses his lips to yours, “Don’t ever forget that.”

Chaos bursts in his bright eyes before he closes them to kiss you, to pull your voice to the tip of your tongue. Your mouth is sweet, full of roses and tea. It’s no wonder Suguru is so taken with the taste of your rich blood. 

You fist his shirt as if you can’t get close enough to him with quickened breaths. Satoru can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. Can you feel his weightlessness against you? 

Satoru pulls you into his lap easily, groaning into your mouth when you lazily rock your hips into his. You remind him that you’re with him in this magical forest, that he found you first. The universe brought you to him and he kisses you fiercely, to ground himself.

Despite your hands marking his shoulder blades and your legs tight around his narrow hips, Satoru feels far away. Impossible to touch as if there is a veil keeping you on the outside.

Does he know? It doesn’t matter- you’ll find your way through the fog to touch his soul with your gentle fingertips.

The castle contains newly appearing staircases and paintings that have surely been lost to something as feeble as time and history. It protects you from the raging storm outside, the storm that surely awaits you in your home. 

It protects you from dangers that you cannot see.

You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t be blamed. Not when the endless shadows of the house- the castle- lead you here. Straight to the ornate door of what must be Suguru and Satoru’s bedroom.

Only a door shields you from them. Only a door shields them from you.

Quiet whispers are muffled beyond the door, both of their voices mixing together. Whispers flow into syrupy moans as you press your ear against the door to listen.

You shouldn’t be here, disrupting what is surely to be an intimate moment between two lovers that you are not privy to. But you want to be. You want to feel their breaths span across your back, hear their voices low in your ear, feel their sinewy limbs under your fingertips. 

It makes you shiver. To be velvet in between silver and gold. All you can do is press your ear closer, closer…

No, you shouldn’t. But they’re so close to you-

“I can hear you breathing from out there,” Suguru says dryly, loudly enough for you to hear through the door, “If you’re trying to conceal yourself, you’re not doing a very good job.”

Impatiently, you push the door open, mesmerized by Suguru on his knees in front of Satoru. He is seated on the bed, leaning back on his elbows with hazy eyes and his fingers tangled in Suguru’s hair. 

You inhale hungrily, unsure of where to look. Suguru chuckles at you and beckons you closer with a simple, heady look.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says, his voice strained as Satoru complains over the lack of attention on him, “Sit down.”

You barely breathe as Suguru strokes Satoru’s hardened, leaking cock with his massive hand. You wonder how that hand would look around Satoru’s neck- as if he can read your mind, his left hand wanders up the pale divots of his chest and to his neck. Resting there, holding Satoru in place as he squirms for Suguru to do something. Anything.

Suguru’s voice is low but clear, softly telling Satoru to stay still and be patient. His hips jump in time with Suguru’s lazy strokes. How torturous- how long has Suguru had his lover on his back like this, waiting for mercy?

It must have been for a long time, considering the trembling of Satoru’s body and how he silently begs for more.

He smears pre-cum over his cock before pushing Satoru’s legs wider apart. Looking over his shoulder to see if you’re watching his movements, only to smirk at you knowingly. Your cheeks are warm as you peer at him. At Satoru’s vulnerability.

Suguru must know everything about Satoru. Everything about what he likes, about how to dissolve him into a pleading mess of want. You want to learn. You want to please them both. You want to learn from them.

But you just watch, for now.

You rub your thighs together subconsciously when they both sigh in unison as Suguru bottoms out. Their breaths are heavy against each other, silenced when he kisses Satoru harshly in contrast to his slow, purposeful thrusts. The fondness, the love between them is palpable in the way they gaze at each other. As if you aren’t even there- as if they are the only two stars in the entire sky of the universe. It wouldn’t be fair to the scales of the universe for there to be two pairs of lovers like them.

You wish to be the exception. You will be the exception.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru grunts from the bed, looking at you over his shoulder. You make an attempt to crawl closer to him but he stops you abruptly. “No, you’ll stay there and you’ll touch yourself. Let us see you.”

Their hands are interlocked and desire washes over you in a tidal wave. He turns away to give his attention to Satoru but you lift the skirt of your robe up to your waist to give them both a full view of your wetness.

You clench around nothing, wishing desperately to take Suguru in your mouth or press your pussy to Satoru’s lips. Instead you rub your clit in time with Suguru’s thrusts, watching his hips roll. Satoru’s moans are loud and raspy, calls of his lover’s name, please, please, please, more…

“Watch her,” Suguru hisses, his hair in disarray as he shoves Satoru’s face towards you. You gasp when both of them watch you together, watching as you shove your finger deep into your pussy, the sound of squelching mixing together and bouncing off the walls. 

You’re quiet in your corner of the room, obediently waiting for Suguru to beckon you closer. For him to grant you a small touch, however fleeting. But he never does, and you are desperate for their attention. For an ounce of their shared love to drip onto your heated skin.

“O-ohhh-”

Your clit throbs as Satoru’s moans get louder and louder, breathier and breathier and Suguru is concentrated on how his cock pushes into Satoru effortlessly, how effortless it’s been for decades but it feels like a millenia- and if there is a god- this is the salvation he’d pray for-

He cums with a broken moan, his chest heaving but continues to push into Satoru as he murmurs sweet nothings to him. They both turn their eyes to you, you who is currently rubbing yourself furiously as if you’re racing against time. Your eyelids are hazy, clouded over with lust. You listen so well. You hadn’t even moved an inch from where Suguru had told you to stay.

“Come here, darling,” Suguru coos, “What a good girl. Do you want a kiss?”

You nod eagerly and all but crawl to him and sit in front of him on your knees, waiting patiently.

“Good girls get kisses,” he replies, “Come here, next to me.”

Satoru pushes back on Suguru, trying to fuck himself on his cock but to no avail. Suguru places a warning hand on his hip to stop him. He kisses you, a chaste peck. It’s not enough for you, but he gives you a meaningful glance. Telling you to listen to him.

You lean forward to give Satoru a kiss and before you can deepen it, Suguru tells you that’s enough.

“No touching,” he clicks his tongue, “Touch yourself while Satoru cums. Show him how much you like it when he cums, sweetheart. Doesn’t he look good like this?”

You nod vigorously with warmth pooling in your cheeks. Suguru’s hair is in disarray, long strands falling from his messily made bun onto his forehead. He moves gracefully, a painter with his paintbrush as he strokes against Satoru. He is Suguru’s canvas.

Your chest tightens at the stars barely concealed in his meteor eyes.

Satoru’s gaze is hooded and heady, concentrated only on the man hovering above him as his hair falls onto his skin. Your fingers are warm against your thighs, but you prefer the coldness of theirs.

Suguru pushes his angel hair away from his forehead and murmurs for him to sing for him. To sing for you. His moans rise in pitch with every stroke- you can’t stop the way you look longingly where they are connected. Each tense muscle in his body is soothed by the other’s gentle but firm touch. It’s a delicate dance, one that Suguru has barred you from partaking in.

Your fingers wander, languidly rubbing circles on your clit, entranced by the ripple of muscles and the sheen layer of sweat on skin. The connection of two lovers is a sight that you are blessed to witness. You want to drink them in, be drenched in their love for each other- for you.

“What a patient girl,” comes a silky voice from next to you, “Why don’t you let us have you now?”

Suguru laughs when you nod your head vigorously. Like an enthusiastic puppy wanting her owner’s attention. 

“I want you both,” you say impatiently, pawing at them both,“Together-”

“Let’s give the girl what she wants,” Satoru says, still catching his breath as he lays flat on the bed.

You are met only with hungry eyes and salacious smiles.

The moon hangs above for prolonged hours as the night begins earlier and earlier. It must be nearing the winter, you think. Frost clings to the air like stars in the sky, but you don’t mind it. Not when you’re there to keep both Satoru and Suguru warm.

Despite the winter fast approaching, you still hear the faint sound of rolling thunder.

“That’s enough,” Suguru murmurs, pulling away from your wrist gently as he licks drops of your sweet blood.

“Are you certain?” you ask, despite feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Yes, darling. You’d let me have you, wouldn’t you?” he coos, as if he is speaking to a newborn deer. Your lips part into a wide, bashful smile as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“My sweetest girl,” he says, pressing his lips to your jaw. You laugh airily at the sensation, pretending to push him back with a hand on his firm chest.

“I would give you all the blood you wanted,” you reply, “You only want my blood, right?”

“Is validation from me what you seek?” Suguru teases you.

Your voice is so full of hope, eyes shining with reverence as you wait for an answer. How far would you walk for him? Just to the edge of the universe? Would you fall over the precipice with him? Would you look over your shoulder before jumping if he told you to?

Judging by the way you shove your wrist in his face, he thinks he has his answer. Your skin is dotted with fading bite marks, some fresh and some old. You wear them with pride, uncaring if anyone sees. Not that there is anyone to see you, besides Gojo Satoru and himself.

The soft smile that uncurls on your face when Suguru’s eyes shift from a calm purple to charcoal and veins abruptly appear under his eyes as he feeds on you is enthralling. No feeling will equate to his soft whimpers as the first drop of your blood enters his circulatory system.

That’s all he is, anyway. A mess of blood and an undead heart thoughtlessly arranged together with frayed red strings in a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit. But somehow, you fit. You and Satoru both fit in different places.

No feeling, not even the memories of your formerly known lover, can make you feel as desired as Geto Suguru drinking your blood as if you are the last living, breathing thing on the planet.

Suguru gives you beautiful gowns and glittery jewels to adorn on your neck and your ears. All you need to give him is your blood and he’ll indulge you with his undivided attention.

“I desire you,” he mumbles, kissing your cupid’s bow, “Your mind,” a kiss to your forehead, “Your company,” a kiss to your palm, “Your body,” a kiss to your clothed chest, “Your soul,” a final lingering kiss to your bruised wrist.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Suguru can feel your lashes flutter against his cheek.

“Shall I prove it to you?”

He grins wolfishly, determined to indulge in every inch of you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Satoru says with food in his mouth, “A cop came by earlier. He was asking about a certain abandoned car about two miles from here.”

Satoru’s eyes shift to you, piercing and intense but you don’t meet his gaze. 

“That’s so…interesting,” you mutter, “Who would come out this far and just dump their car? How weird…”

“Someone trying to leave something behind, maybe?” Suguru suggests knowingly, his eyes equally as piercing as Satoru’s.

You avoid both of their pointed gazes and take a long swig of red wine.

The silence suffocates you, but you don’t relent. They don’t need to know your secret, the one that you’ll carry with you until your dying breath. The real reason for your abrupt departure from your home, the perceived carelessness of throwing your car keys out in the mud on the forest floor for anyone to find. All for the simple hope of salvation in this sea of trees.

Instead of salvation, you’ve found eternal damnation with the immortal vampire Geto Suguru and ever living ghost Gojo Satoru. It’s still far better than the unfortunate alternative that awaited you in your former life.

You play with the emerald necklace seated at the base of your neck. A gift, of course, from the two ethereal beings sitting in front of you. Your lip nearly bleeds from how tightly you hold it between your teeth, debating whether you should tell them or not.

Not today.

“We need to know who is looking for you,” Satoru says firmly.

“Why? So you can hand me over to them all wrapped up in a bow? Or so that you can exile me from your home?” you challenge petulantly. Suguru narrows his eyes in your direction and you swear they flash an angry red. You try not to feel small in your seat and hold your head high.

“Don’t you dare imply that either of us would give you up so easily,” he all but hisses, “Do not insult me.”

“Besides, don’t you think we should know why the cops are knocking on our door asking about your abandoned car?” Satoru chimes in with a barely concealed smirk, “And how stupid do you think we are? To not know that that abandoned car was yours?”

Your eyes land on your hands in your lap and you sigh, the burden of your former life weighing heavily in your throat.

“You will banish me if I tell you,” you say, “I can’t handle it if you tell me to leave. There is nowhere for me to go.” Your words are sincere as you cave into yourself.

“Of course we wouldn't, sweetheart,” Satoru coos, coming around the table to sit next to you. He places a lithe, translucent finger under your chin and forces you to look at him. Uncertainty dances in your dark eyes but you’re unable to break the trance that he has placed you under.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” you mumble.

“How very mysterious of you,” Satoru teases you, patting your hair without a care in the world.

“We’re only asking so we can protect you if we need to,” Suguru offers. Heat blooms in your chest at his firm admission. Of course, they’d protect you. After all, this house is a lighthouse in the storm.

Today, you've forgotten to check if the rain continues to fall outside.

The garden behind this castle of a house is flourishing and colorful, filled with flowers and blooms that you have never seen before. A sea of reds, pinks, blues and greens bursts in your eyes. To think, you’ve never seen the garden before. In fact, when was the last time you stepped outside?

You have not seen the sun in days, weeks, months, perhaps. But you feel the warmth of the sun whenever you lay between Satoru and Suguru.

But the breeze is refreshing against your face as it threads through your hair.

You look over the treeline, at the tallest trees that seem to pierce the stormy, grey sky. The rain has not begun for the day yet, but you suspect it will soon. It’s heavy in the air, palpable against your skin. If you reach out into the empty space, you’re certain you could collect raindrops into your hands.

A shiver trembles down your spine as the frosty air whips your face. Perhaps the rain will turn to snow soon. You always did love the snow. The silence of a fresh, bright snowfall where everything is as still as the night

Despite the approaching winter chill, the flowers in the garden are flourishing as if it’s the middle of springtime. You never really appreciated the springtime flowers in the past. But maybe because you never noticed, never took the time to smell the roses.

The tiny pond centered in the garden is as motionless as the air that chokes you with silence. Lotus flowers float mindlessly from one side of the pond to the other. You’ve never seen so many lotuses in one place before. It’s beautiful and rather ominous.

Time does not move in this patch of the forest. You’re forced to stand still along with the magic of the house, the symphony of the storm. Is it the magic of the house, or is it the vampire and the ghost who live inside the house?

Does it matter?

You sigh heavily, picking at your cuticles as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Your coat is heavy around your shoulders. Are they watching you in the windows? Wondering why you’ve left them alone in the house, why you’re sitting outside all alone?

Will they come find you? What would it take for them to come crawling to you, begging for your attention? Perhaps a deep cut on your wrist with the sharpened end of the gate surrounding the backyard, a scrape of your knees-

A whoosh of air wraps around your face in a firm caress but it’s not the wind, it’s more warm and comforting. You feel something being placed gently into your hair- a red spider lily.

You hide your smile.

The breeze feels like the curl of lithe fingers around your cheek, invisible but heavy against your skin. You sense Satoru’s touch but you still play coy, pretending like you don’t notice him pawing at your clothes. 

You can’t see him, but you can feel him. His hands pushing the collar of your coat to lick up the column of your throat. Cold breaths against your ear as his teeth graze your earlobe.

It’s playful, teasing- you can nearly hear his laughter. Until it’s not anymore, and you find yourself on your back in the grass. Staring at the stormy sky, despite the column of sunlight illuminating you.

You wonder if Suguru is watching. You hope he is.

His hands are nimble, an out of body experience, as your blouse becomes unbuttoned and tossed to the side. With a shaky breath, you try to feel for him, wanting to touch his chest or press your lips to his-

But he doesn’t allow you to, only allowing you to be at his mercy as he holds your chest in his unseen hands. You look down in interest as your own flesh is kneaded by the concealed force that is Gojo Satoru. His touch is searing, heavenly and goosebumps rise on your neck as the pressure of his hips presses against yours. Your skirt is suddenly flipped upwards in a flurry of impatience as he pulls you closer to him. To close the gap between life and the afterlife-  to tip you towards the latter.

A moan parts through the veil and settles deep in your belly as warmth bursts. You are sensitive to the plush grass against your back, against your bare thighs- your skirt has been pulled off and you lay unclothed in the garden. Like izanami herself, you lay with only the elements to witness as the unearthly being on top of you parts your knees lewdly.

He stares at your wetness as your legs part open- after all, divine intervention sits at the apex of your thighs and he wants a taste. He wants to see the great light, or whatever comes next, in your eyes as his teeth brush against your inner thighs. Satoru tastes honey once he moves your hands aside. You can’t hide from him- you can’t hide from something you cannot see. He is hungry for you, hungry to devour you, hungry for you to give in fully to him. To be absolutely and fully open to him and bare your entire soul to the deepest, dead parts of him.

Your gasps are slight, barely heard breaths as he licks you with fervor. In between your legs is Satoru, grinding into the dewy grass in time with the rise and fall of your chest. You throw your head back when Satoru pushes two translucent fingers into you, your slick coating his skin.

You smell ravishing, the pulse of your heart a song in his ears. No wonder Suguru nearly drained you dead the other day.

Satoru groans when you wrap your legs around his hips. It’s not surprising that you intuitively know exactly where he starts and ends. To your eyes, you see nothing but open space in front of you. But you feel his distorted lines pinned against you, pushing you further into the earth.

He wants to savor the image of your parted lips and half-lidded eyes, the heat on your cheeks as he strokes himself and pushes into you. The noise that leaves your throat goes straight to his cock. Do you enjoy being full like this? Stuffed full of his cock and not being able to see it? See him?

“Faster, Satoru,” you mumble, looking straight at his six eyes, “Faster-oh!”

Careful what you ask for. He grins at you wildly, pushing his chest down to yours. He could spit into your mouth if he wanted, it would be so easy to let his spit slide into your wet, warm mouth. Your body jolts with every thrust, tightening as he rubs your clit and spreads your wetness sloppily.

A pearly sheen of sweat coats your sweet skin and if you could see him now, the wolfish look in his eyes would be shining in yours. He presses down against your bottom lip with a ghostly thumb, groaning when you whimper into the open air. It’s quickly silenced when he pushes his finger into your mouth harshly as surprise melts into heat in your eyes.

Satoru can feel Suguru’s eyes on you both, laid out in the grass. He wonders if you can, too.

The slope of your neck is enticing and he must sink his teeth into you. With a breathy gasp, you shudder and clench your walls around him as you cum abruptly. He grins crookedly at you, not that you can see it. You squeeze around him like a velvety vice. Your eyes are mischievous as you roll your hips against him. The rise and fall of your chest is tantalizing- his hand moves of its own volition to wrap around your neck loosely. 

As if you are a goddess with a chain to keep you tethered to the earth, to him, you look directly into his eyes and smile.

His hips stutter as he loses rhythm before he pushes into you and stills completely. Satoru whines your name brokenly in your ear before he cums loudly and triggers you to cum once more. You feel full and heavy, sated with the feeling of his thick, gooey cum pooling and mixing with your own wetness.

His eyes widen when you let your hand graze downwards to rub yourself. You taste him on your lips; tangy and sweet. Your smile is lewd, like you’re proud of yourself for seducing him in the open garden with your bare body and honey eyes.

Your skin glistens with the dewy grass that you have claimed to be your bed as the selective sun forms a patch around your head like a halo. In truth, Satoru feels unholy in the way he looks at you, thinks about you.

He drops his head low to kiss you once more, driven by the desire to paint you with himself. To paint brushstrokes of his devotion on every inch of your skin.

It’s so simple to give in to his kiss. To dive into him without worrying about how far the jump is or how far off the cliff you’ll go. You trust that he will catch you, even if you can’t see him. 

He is still unseen to you, but your hands are flat against his taut chest as you maneuver yourself on top of him. You throw your head back as you welcome him inside, your wetness coating him like a salve.

Your hips move of their own accord and Satoru lays back to let you take control of him. You lean down to kiss him but your lips hover. As if you want to say something.

This garden of Eden will hear your secrets and here they shall die, you decide.  Nothing seems so terrible with the way he fits inside you. You want to give him your mind, body, and soul.

And with this declaration you will. You rotate your hips, coming down on him gently at a slow pace before picking up again. His hands stay idle on your hips as you finally say something-

“I killed him,” you say softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You can’t hear him, and you don’t need to.

“My husband. We just…it fell apart!” you pant, bouncing faster, “what was a girl to do?”

“He never loved me! Never wanted me. Never paid attention to me,” you whisper, “so I killed him. And I ran away. I just wanted to be his one and only…”

“I killed him and you found me,” you sigh breathlessly, moving an arm away to rub your clit furiously. The words have never been said out loud and the secret that remains between you and him has you squeezing around him tightly. “I wish you had been there to see it, Satoru-“

He finishes loudly, without warning and you keep rolling your hips. He pushes your hand away to replace your fingers and rubs you until you finish with him.

You fall onto his invisible chest and sigh happily. He stays unseen, running a hand over your bare back and feeling the mix of your cum and his of you both leaking out of you and onto him. Your words are the words of a lover, confessions and shy smiles bursting at the seam of your lips and into his.

It must be alright, if a gentle spring breeze caresses your back.

Satoru looks at you in awe- how frightened you must have been when you had realized what you’d done. And through all of the strife and turmoil, you still came to him.

That must be divine intervention. After all, he only planned for you to be a momentary blood bag for his lover until your inevitable decay.

The openness of the house, the wall to wall windows, the way the breeze floats inside and coats the house in a gentle chill despite the ongoing storm outside, is comforting to you now. Rather than eerie as it was days ago. Days? Weeks? Months?

An invisible weight is lifted from your chest, one that you didn’t know even existed since you drove away in a frenzy on that cold, rainy night. The memories are almost too painful, but the newfound freedom tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Will you keep me waiting much longer, darling?” Suguru whispers, tracing your cheek with a long finger. You lean into his icy touch and he smiles at you.

Lifting the skirt of your midnight blue robe, he caresses your thigh and smacks it lightly. His grin widens when you yelp and laugh. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you. What an excitable thing you are, completely defying any expectations he had of you only to enjoy your time in this castle.

A prison without a fence. He expects you won’t try to leave for a long, long time. Not when it took you all of the drama of a poor husband for you to leave in your prior life.

Yes, you are starting a new life, as you’ve indicated to him in the confines of his bedroom before. A new life with him and Satoru, one where you will be free. As free as the rain that falls from the sky.

Your soul is vulnerable, exposed for him to read whenever he desires. All Suguru sees is pure longing and fear. Fear that you will be abandoned once more.

It doesn’t matter. Suguru will make it so that your wishes are fulfilled forever. And once forever ends and you are nothing but an afterthought in his everlasting life, he will be sure to scatter your ashes in the lake by the house.

He will remember you fondly as the girl who killed to find a home in him. But ultimately, this story will not conclude with you in it. No matter how sweet your blood tastes or how you bat your eyelashes at him to get your way or how endearing he finds you as you list out trivial history facts from a time period he never lived in, not even how warm your pussy feels right after he cums inside you-

None of that matters, except for right now. Right now, when you reach for him with warm hands and look at him as if he is not a bloodthirsty creature, but as if he hung the moon in the sky.

“Make you wait? I’d never,” you reply with bright eyes, shifting against the cool sheets to press yourself closer to him. Your eyes flutter in pleasure when he pulls the knot of your robe loose from your waist. He pushes the robe to the side, leaving you open and exposed to him. Suguru purrs against your skin, the noise vibrating against your bare chest. He lifts his head as his eyes turn red and black veins form on his face.

He’s hungry.

Suguru lifts your wrist to his lips, pressing delicate kisses to the still bruised skin there. Most of the bruises have faded by now, anyway, with fresh ones blooming elsewhere. He remembers where each one is- your thighs, your chest, your neck… You don’t bother with covering them, not anymore. Not since you’ve fully accepted the castle in the forest as your home.

His tongue is gentle as he allows his fangs to elongate and brush against the skin of your wrist, like he is asking for permission. 

With a soft gasp, you feel his sharpened teeth pierce your skin as he messily drinks from your vein like a man starved. In truth, he has been starved over the last few decades. Starved of a sweetness like you.

In over one hundred years, he can only remember Satoru’s blood tasting so decadent. Filling him up with a sudden unquenched thirst. Suguru wants more of you- and you know it.

He lets go of your wrist, lapping any extra blood that angrily pours out of the small puncture wound with his tongue. With a comforting rub of your skin, he presses kisses down your torso, taking his time in enjoying how you squirm in his tight grasp. Your body moves in waves against his hold, moving with his push and pull.

The familiar pierce of his canines brushes against the fragile skin of your inner thigh, one of his favorite places to drink from. He says he can taste all of your feelings in that exact spot. Suguru doesn’t care about the guttural noises that rip from his throat as he drinks from you, careful to ensure that you don’t nearly faint from blood loss. Again.

Warmth blooms in your belly, uncurling like fairy wings to envelope you in comfort. But really, it’s Suguru’s touch, his mouth, how loved he makes you feel. He says he’s never had blood like yours before and you believe him. You push his head further with your free hand, encouraging him to take more from you.

But he pulls away, blood dripping from his teeth down his chin and onto his chest. You pull him on top of you for a sharp kiss, smearing your own blood on your lips. He tastes metallic with the taste of your blood down his throat. You want to devour him, to see how you taste in his eyes. You never want him to stop looking at you the way he does- as his prized possession, his favorite girl.

“There have been so many women,” Suguru coos, “Has Satoru told you? But you are the only one who stayed.” He drags lithe fingers over your chest, only to use his long nails to cut you. It’s not very deep, but you watch in wonder as ruby red blood blooms on your skin. 

He uses his thumb to paint your blood over your skin only to press his finger to your lips and wordlessly tell you to suck.

“You stayed because you love us,” he says in a honeyed voice, “Good girls should be rewarded for their loyalty.”

Suguru reaches over to his nightstand where he pulls out a silver dagger encrusted with jewels. You stare at him as he places it carefully into your hands. What does he want you to do with this?

It dawns on you when you look at the angry lines on your chest. You sit up on your haunches and smile at him, enamored that he entrusts you to this degree. 

You hold the dagger, trying to get comfortable with the feel of such a heavy metal in your hands. It’s a foreign weight, necessary for the foreign task that your lover has for you.

“Right here?” you ask quietly, your hand on his chest where you expect his heart would beat.

“Wherever you’d like, darling.”

With no hesitation, you allow the surface of the blade to pierce Suguru’s skin. Dark, burgundy droplets fall from the cut and trickle down his torso. With wide eyes, you look at him, asking him what to do. Instead, he laughs at you, curling a hand around your cheek.

“Is it not obvious?” 

He gathers the blood from the cut onto his finger and presses it to your lips once more. You swallow instantly with doe eyes- you will always take whatever he gives you. But you surprise him when you lean forward and press your lips to the blood on his torso and lick, whimpering with each swallow of his blood in your circulatory system.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Suguru says, petting your hair, “Good girl. Do you want more?”

With darkened lips and eager eyes, you nod vigorously. Wanting nothing more than to please him. He takes the dagger back from you and cuts a much deeper wound into his chest, wincing as he does so.

“There you go,” he says, throwing his head back when you latch onto him and drink his blood. It comes to you so easily. The urge to please.

Strangely enough, he tastes like ripened cherries. His moans are soft as you drink from him as you please. He owns you now, whether you realize it or not. Now that you’ve drunk his blood, he is a part of you now.

Until he decides otherwise.

In your new home, you have created the perfect life. You are cherished and desired, not needing to hide the ugly truths about yourself to Suguru and Satoru. You see them with rosy hearts in your eyes, convinced that they have accepted you the way that they have accepted each other.

You refuse to let any seeds of doubt fester. Will they tire of you, the way your husband did? Will they say that you’re too needy, too demanding of their attention?

The words are familiar in your mind but they look at you as if they are enthralled by you. No, you are a part of them as much as they are a part of you. You try your hardest to quell your rising, unfounded fears. It’s you, not them, you convince yourself. It’s you, not them.

Suguru and Satoru are already in the library, waiting for you to join them on the barely sat-in leather couch. 

You read your book in silence, the same three paragraphs burned into your eyelids. You can’t focus, not when the two men next to you try to vye for your attention. Despite their lips on your neck and their sweet, seductive words… There is a buzzing in your head that you can’t seem to shake away. It gnaws at you and gnaws at you, even as you succumb to their touches. Even as they drape themselves over you and pull sweet sounds from your throat.

Why don’t they look at you the way they did before? Are you imagining the look of disgust in Satoru’s eyes as he undresses you? Is the boredom on Suguru’s face an unfounded figment of your imagination? 

You are desperate for them, for them to bury themselves in you and build a home inside you. For them to keep you and never let you go. With a harsh kiss and bite to their lips, you seal your fate of your own accord.

In the thick of the frigid winter, the seasons change. It no longer downpours everyday- instead, snow covers the forest. Completely untouched and pure in a delicate, white blanket that cradles the earth.

The cold nips at your cheeks as you step outside the castle on the hill. You are dressed only in a thin black robe that rustles with the icy wind. With barren feet, you step into the snow. Hardly registering the way your blood cools with each step or how your teeth begin to shatter.

Despite the clean scent of snow in the air, you still catch the lingering scent of rain.

Loose deep red rose petals that you hold in your arms taint the pristine white snow as if they were drops of blood. The plant life still somehow thrives even in the wintry weather.

It is so quiet, with each step you take hardly making a sound. The world is still as you make your way over to the nearly frozen over darkened lake. It glitters with the pale sun, almost blinding you but you remain undeterred.

It is a chance for rebirth. Revenge. Or is it redemption?

You dip your foot in the lake first. Then, you close your eyes and surrender to the unknowing abyss with nothing more than a silent splash.

Melted snow coats the earth you walk on when your eyes open once more. It must be days later that you breathe the dry air and emerge from the depths of the lake, your robe soaking wet and sticking to your clammy skin.

But you do not feel the cold, nor do you need to breathe air. It’s a leftover reflex from the person you were not even a full week ago.

The door to the castle on the hill is the same as the first day you saw it. When you were running away from your old life. Here you are, embracing your new one. 

You knock on the door gently. Once, then twice.

You are met with wide, surprised celestial eyes. Only offering him a grin in return.

“What did you do?” Satoru hisses, yanking you inside by your forearm. He senses the difference in you already, the darkened energy coating your bloodstream. Your heart does not beat at all and your canines have become sharpened fangs in your mirthless smile. Your hands are cold when you paw at his chest. He’s used to cold hands, but yours are unforgiving. A threat when your nails nearly pierce through his skin. 

Most of all, blood stains your skin and your teeth when you smile widely at him. Some of it is fresh, still dripping down your neck and some of it is dried along the curve of your jaw and your chest. It reminds him of a lost, wounded wolf. It’s jarring, the sweet smile he is used to is sinister and unforgiving. 

It doesn’t suit you, and yet this is what you have chosen. Your laughter is grating in his finely tuned ears, reminiscent of a curse. Is that what this is? Is that what you have become? An immortal curse?

He ignores the trepidation crawling on his skin. Satoru can’t exactly slam the door in your face, can he?

“Come, lover. Let’s find Suguru,” you say with bright eyes, “We have much to catch up on.”

“You were supposed to be nothing but a blood bag for Suguru,” Satoru seethes, “Look what you’ve done-”

“No, please, I did this for you,” you wail, tugging on his shirt, “I want this forever. Don’t you want the same? You said you did!”  Doesn’t he see you? Doesn’t he see how much you crave him? 

“Enough,” comes Suguru’s voice from behind Satoru. He looks at you, running a thumb over the blood on your skin. Then at the silent, unmoving lake.

He closes his eyes for half a second and sighs, ignoring Satoru’s very purposeful glare at his head.

“I did it for you, Suguru,” you whimper, relaxing when he gathers you in his arms and strokes your hair. He says nothing, instead raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s. Two vampires in the same forest? A newborn vampire, at that?

Suguru is tempted to stake you for your naivete, but refrains from doing so. Sheer bloodlust is what got them into this mess, after all.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says into your hair, but he means for Satoru to hear it, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The sun sets in brushstrokes on the world, but not on you.

[sammylkcho]

Please.. Forgive me.

Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers

"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.

Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.

Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.

There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.

Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.

Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.

“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.

You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.

“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.

“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.

“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”

Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.

“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”

You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.

“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”

There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?

“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”

“You’re bleeding!”

Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.

You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.

You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.

When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.

“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.

Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.

You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.

You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.

Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.

It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.

“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.

You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.

The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.

The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.

That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.

You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.

Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.

You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.

Closer and closer.

The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.

Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.

His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.

Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.

When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.

The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.

"SEBASTIAN."

The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.

"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"

"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."

The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.

You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?

He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.

He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.

The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.

His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.

His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.

You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.

Then he looked at your attacker.

The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.

He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.

Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.

The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."

Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?

No.

No, he didn’t believe it.

He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.

He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.

More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.

…

He needed you.

[juniperskye]

Why are you in my head? Pt. 3

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Angst - Part 1 Part 2 Part 4** Part 5

Word count: 2583

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, mentions of drugs/sale of drugs/drug use, arguing, mentions of Eddie’s drug addict parents, mention of post-partum depression, mention of child endangerment, mention of child death, mention of murder, mention of suicide, mention of foster care, let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story

I miss you so fucking much. How could you think so little of me. I’m sorry. You just don’t understand what it’s like. You don’t even know me. We’re soulmates, of course I know you. Our thoughts weren’t shared until we were both teenagers, you know nothing about how I was brought up. Can I see you? Please.

Thoughts between soulmates were shared more frequently when experiencing high levels of stress, primarily during long periods of separation after meeting, or fighting.

“Hey bug, Eddie’s on the phone for you.” Your dad knocked lightly on your door.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him!” You hollered up to your dad.

Since your fight with Eddie, one week ago, your parents had noticed your very apparent, sour mood. You really had no choice but to tell them that you had in fact met your soulmate and had been hanging out with him non-stop. Your mom had been thrilled for you; she had wanted to know everything about Eddie. Your dad on the other hand, he was furious. He clocked the tear tracks that ran down your cheeks the second you walked in the door, and he wanted Eddie’s address so he could kick his ass. You had assured him that it wouldn’t be necessary, that no matter how upset you were in the moment, in your heart you knew the two of you would be able to work things out.

“Sweetie, maybe you should take his call.” Your mom suggested.

“Maybe you should butt out!” You shouted back.

You were immediately filled with regret. Quickly making your way up the stairs you threw open your door to come face to face with your parents.

“Mom, I am so sorry.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, her hand gently brushing at the hair on the back of your head. She always did this when you hugged, and it always brought a warm comfort throughout your body.

“It’s okay. I know that you are upset. Maybe you should try talking to him sweetie, it might make you feel better.” She suggested once more.

“Okay, I guess you’re probably right.” You nodded.

“Well, that’s good because he is on his way right now.” Your dad informed you.

“What? Dad! A little warning would be nice! He doesn’t live that far, and I have to get ready!” You started scrambling down the stairs into your room to get ready.

Your parents chuckled, remembering what it was like to be that young and new in love.

A knock at the door had you sprinting up the stairs and practically shoving your dad out of the way so you could get there first. You weren’t quite ready to have Eddie meet your parents, especially since you aren’t currently on the best of terms.

You opened the door with just enough room to slide out of the house. You took note of Eddie’s disheveled appearance, he had bags under his eyes, his hair looked especially frizzy, and his skin didn’t have its usual glow.

“Hey.” He said sheepishly.

“Hi.” You replied.

“Did you uh, did you want to go sit in the van and talk?” Eddie said gesturing to where it was parked at the end of your driveway.

You nodded and the two of you made your way to the vehicle. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms and kiss all this pain away, but he knew that it wouldn’t be that simple, he had made some snap judgements and said some hurtful things to you. He knew he needed to apologize and that the two of you still had a lot to learn about one another.

“Baby, I am so sorry. I said some awful shit to you, and I shouldn’t have. I just, I am so used to having people judge me. For how I look, for where I live, who I live with, the people I hang out with, the music I listen to, the field of work I’m in. And I know that you weren’t judging me, that you were just looking out for me because you care, but baby I couldn’t help but let those past feelings eat me alive when you were talking to me.” Eddie explained.

“Eddie, I appreciate you apologizing. I’ve had time to think about things too and I can understand how my reaction could have come across as judgmental. Eddie, my dad is a cop, I have heard what happens to people when they’re caught with a little bit of weed in their possession, but if you were caught selling it, or something worse. Eddie I can’t lose you. Not when I have only just found you.” Tears were running down your face at this point.

Eddie scooted closer to you on the bench of the van, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, gently brushing away your tears with his thumb. He leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. When you two broke apart, he leaned his forehead against your own, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I am so sorry baby. Please forgive me?”

“Eddie, before I can forgive you, I need to know that you don’t really think of me like that. I may come from a well-off family now, but there is a lot you don’t know about me and I just – I need to know that you don’t see me as some privileged brat.” You begged.

“Sweetheart, no! I don’t think of you that way. I am so sorry! I don’t even know why I said that. It’s like a defense mechanism. I know that there’s so much I don’t know about you, and I hope that you will trust me enough to tell me everything there is to know about you.” He rushed.

You were both startled by a knock on the window. Looking over at the passenger window, you were mortified to see your dad standing there, giving you and Eddie a small wave. He then gestured for you to roll the window down. You visibly cringed as you began cranking the window open, mouthing an embarrassed apology to Eddie.

“Dadddd…what do you want?” You whined.

“Your mother sent me out here to let you know that dinner is ready. She also wanted me to ask if your friend here would be joining us.” He explained.

Your eyes darted over to Eddie. You were trying to decipher his expression, was he as horrified as you were? Was he intrigued by the idea of meeting your parents.? Was he ready to flee and never return?

Would you want me to stay?

You couldn’t help but smile. His thought was timed perfectly, this soulmate thing definitely had its perks.

Of course I want you to stay! I just don’t want them to scare you off.

“If it’s alright with you sir, I’d like to stay for dinner.” Eddie looked at your dad, who replied with a curt nod.

“I can’t believe you’re a Metallica fan! I just finished learning Master of Puppets on my guitar!” Eddie gushed.

“That’s a tough song, I bet you had to practice for weeks!” Your dad indulged Eddie.

This is so embarrassing! Your dad is so cool!

Your mom laughed at the exchange between the two men and she and you cleared the table. She gave you a knowing look and nodded towards your room.

“Why don’t you two go watch a movie, your dad and I can clear the rest of this up.” She suggested.

“Only if you’re sure.” You asked, gaze shifting from your mom to your dad.

“Door stays open.” Your dad pointed towards you.

With that you grabbed Eddie’s hand and led him down to your room, being sure to leave your door open, per your dad’s request. As you descended the stairs, Eddie’s jaw made its way to the floor. He was amazed by your room, you had records hung on the walls and ceiling, one of your walls had an incredible photo collage, with photos of you, your friends and family throughout the years, and below that were stacks of books next to a small desk. He’d have to ask you about who all these people were. You also had a projector screen that you clearly used for movies.

“This is amazing! You read J.R.R. Tolkien and Stephen King? And these records, this is so cool, I would never want to leave if this was my room!” Eddie exclaimed.

God, like you could get any hotter.

“Yeah, my parents are pretty cool about letting me express my creative freedoms or whatever.” You shrugged.

You couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, Eddie had talked about how you got everything you’d ever wanted, and this made that seem true. If only he knew.

Things had continued on pretty well with you and Eddie over the next few months. You guys had grown closer, trusting one another with the heavier secrets of your lives. Eddie had told more in depth about his parents. His mom had gotten hooked on drugs thanks to his dad, who was quick to put hands on Eddie and his mom when he was under the influence – which seemed to be more often than not.

You had wanted to tell Eddie about your past too, but the timing just didn’t seem right. Every time you went to share, something came up, or you were trying to avoid it coming across as you are one-upping him and his trauma.

Things aren’t always what they seem.

Eddie had dinner at your house once a week, and you’d traded off whose house you’d go to after school each day. Nothing physical had transpired between the two of you other than a few heavy make out sessions. At each other’s houses you had fallen into a routine, at yours you would either watch a movie or read, at his you’d either watch a movie, listen to music, or help him with his campaigns.

Tonight happened to be dinner at your house, your parents had suggested ordering a pizza tonight and playing Monopoly. Eddie had enjoyed nights like this, your parents had been extremely welcoming of him. He had appreciated that they didn’t judge him, not once in all the time he has known them. They had been warm and kind and accepting.

Your dad had bonded with him about his taste in music and had shown an interest in Dungeons and Dragons. Your mom talked to him about his future and his dreams of being in a band, but the reality of him probably becoming a mechanic.  Your mom had told him that he should pursue music as long as he had something he could fall back on should it not work out. She told him that he could achieve his dreams as long as he worked hard at it.

These conversations, these dinners, these nights with your family had been amazing, they had also been painful for Eddie. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that he didn’t get to have a childhood like this, that he had to get his ass beat by his dad while his mom was strung out on the couch. He hadn’t been removed from their custody until he was about 10 years old, that’s when child services pulled him from their care and moved him in with Wayne.

Wayne had grown fond of you immediately; he had seen how Eddie had changed immediately after meeting you. He had been happier, which meant the world to Wayne. All Wayne had ever wanted was for Eddie to have something good in his life and here you were. You and Wayne were buds and it filled Eddie with a sense of pride that his uncle approved of you.

Now if only things could stay simple like that forever.

Eddie and you had finished dinner and a game of Monopoly at your house. You were planning to go to Eddie’s after to watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2. After pulling up in front of the trailer, Eddie made his way to your side of the van and pulled you out of the car. You giggled as he kissed you and the two of you stumbled into the living room.

He made his way to the kitchen to grab drinks for you both and he began popping some popcorn.

“Sorry about my parents tonight. I know they can be super lame.” You huffed out a laugh.

“What do you mean? Your parents are great!” Eddie said.

“No, I know, but they act so goofy. It’s embarrassing.” You shook your head.

At least you have parents.

“Jesus Eddie.”

“What? I didn’t…oh shit. Babe I’m sorry. It’s just, you should be thankful that you have parents who care about you. Not all of us are that lucky.”

“I’m not that lucky Eddie! Fuck! How many times do I have to tell you that you don’t know me! You don’t know anything about me!” You sighed.

“Then tell me! Please, enlighten me as to how your two wonderful parents can be so bad!” Eddie egged you on.

“THEY'RE NOT MY PARENTS!” You shouted at him, then took a deep breath. “Eddie, they’re not my real parents.”

Eddie sat a looked at you, mouth agape, speechless. You could tell that he was waiting for you to continue, but you needed a moment to collect your thoughts. You had to explain everything, this conversation could change everything.

“My parents, Eddie, they did some horrible shit. Neither of them had any other family, my mom she uh, she had post-partum depression, she wasn’t doing well, for a long time after my little sister was born. I guess that had caused my dad to seek comfort elsewhere, I was only six when all this happened. But uh, my mom she uh she left my sister in the bath alone, my sister slid down into the water and drowned, she was only 8 weeks old. When my dad came home and found her, he was furious. Eddie he killed my mom, and then he killed himself. I ended up in foster care and bounced from home to home until I was twelve, until they took me in.”

“Sweetheart. I, I am so sorry. I don’t, I’m not sure what to say.” Eddie whispered. “But uh, you said. You had mentioned that your mom told you bedtime stories about how her and your dad met.”

“My mom now, she would tell me how her and my dad met, every night until I finally started sleeping.” You explained.

The nightmares made it impossible. I couldn’t stop seeing the blood.

Eddie crossed the room and pulled you into his arms. He couldn’t believe that he had been so stupid this whole time. You had been silently telling him that your life wasn’t all that perfect, that though now, it seemed good, it hadn’t always been. He needed you to know that he was here for you, no matter what.

I’ve got you. I will always have you baby.

A sob escaped your throat, ripping through the silence. Eddie held you; he laid you with him in his bed, his hand brushing through your hair gently, whispering sweet nothings to you.

I haven’t told anyone that story. Nobody, ever. Not even my parents. Your secret is safe with me. You are safe with me. I love you sweetheart. I love you Eds.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

We've suddenly got an abundance of shows with dark themes and adult vibes, with a bit of a mixed bag on their execution. These are available for weekly streaming on Gaga unless otherwise noted.

Smells Like Green Spirit

A fan subber came through and we are now able to watch this show on a slight delay from the airing in Japan. This first episode was great, but be warned that this is not a light watch. This show is less a full blown romance and more of a queer coming of age story with a rather bleak worldview that will likely include a romance subplot. Our story centers on Mishima, a young person who is questioning their gender and just trying to live while being constantly targeted by school bullies. The bullying in this show is graphic and violent and Mishima has already been assaulted and targeted by creeps in the first episode, so take care and ask for content warnings if you need them. I have read the manga so I'm aware of what's in store--if you would like to know what to expect before watching, feel free to ask.

Happy of the End

CWs: Assault, attempted murder, blood, death, forced fellatio/rape (against a main character, graphically depicted more than once), revenge porn, sexual coercion and exploitation, stabbing, suicide attempt, suicide, violence

We have arrived at the end of this story, and it did not quite come together for me. I liked a lot of what it was doing; the relationship between Chihiro and Haoren giving them both a reason to persist despite their general apathy toward survival was compelling, and the actors gave strong performances in some very difficult scenes. I thought the show had a strong sense of style and tone, as well. But for me, it crossed the line into over the top trauma porn one too many times, seeming to revel in making the characters suffer and piling on unnecessary traumas that were depicted quite graphically, making the show deeply unpleasant to watch. And in the end, it suddenly veered into a happy ending that felt like a mismatch for the rest of the story, which was achieved via a time skip and Chihiro and Haoren healing offscreen despite their circumstances only getting worse over the course of the show. @bengiyo laid out why that ending felt like the show pulling its punches, and I agree. I can appreciate a story that has an established bleak worldview telling us about a specific time in these characters' lives where they mattered to each other, but slapping that unearned epilogue on it just makes the whole thing feel like torture porn followed by cheap consolation. It didn't feel honest. I don’t recommend watching this one unless you are pretty comfortable with gratuitous sexual violence.

Love is Like a Poison

We’re zipping along nicely, with this week’s episode mostly focused on the case that Haruto helped Shiba win. That courtroom scene was wild. I’m intrigued by all the advances and the early confession from Haruto, because as we and Shiba well know, the man is a con. What’s his angle, and why does he think romancing Shiba is the way to get it? Whatever he’s after, I think Shiba should give in because look at him!

Chaser Game W 2

This week we met Itsuki’s first love Yoreum, who is now a famous Korean idol and still hung up on her from back when she did a homestay with Itsuki’s family. She did a livestream from Itsuki’s cafe in the special spot where Itsuki and Fuyu like to canoodle; jealousy and dramatics ensued. Then suddenly we were doing an elevator rescue? Idek. I’m rooting for the new girl to break this couple up to be honest.

[coff-in]

HIIII!!! I would like to request a Baby sis reader x Ashley and Andrew were Reader is like their personal nurse and has the most out of pocket impulsive though and isn't afraid of saying them when she wants.

Like we're they would be standing near the ledge if a bridge and Reader would just say randomly say "I would be nice to jump won't it?" and Andrew would just stare at her with a look of terror (He has though and done worse though)

But back to the Nurse part she carrys a doctors bag with medication and bandages/bandaids (she also has poison). Sometimes when Andrew and Ashley argue she would just stand there like 🧍‍♀️ knowing damn well she going have to patch them both up after this

(Preferably before and after the sacrifice of the cultist)

notes from coff-in: this is pretty wholesome, guh i just AAAUUGH i love it. i want them to be happy with each other you know? this was so good i just had to brain dump onto this request, it really got me thinking. thank you for requesting!! :D

[fem] reader-insert, [reader] younger than ashley by about a year, mentions or allusions to incest (nothing outright but im hinting at it), talks/mentions of suicide

i can see [reader] getting inspired to be a nurse when leyley got sick once. andy had to go to the store to get medicine for her and told [reader] to stay home and watch her. she tells leyley that she's going to be okay, "nurse [reader] and doctor andy are here to help you get better!" it made leyley so happy seeing [reader] and andy take care of her like that! i doubt she'd ever purposely get herself sick like that again, but it sparked something in [reader]--- being able to care for her siblings and feel necessary to them, to feel needed (i sprinkle insecurity everywhere)

during school, [reader] had a major interest in biology and health class (or the european equivalents i guess? i'm from the U.S. so i don't know much) and passing with good grades in those classes. she has a big medical or emergency kit in their bedroom for her to use and practice with. whenever andrew or ashley hurt themselves they always come over to [reader] so she can take a look at it because she insists on it.

she gets on andrew's case a couple of times about his smoking, about how it's not good for his lungs, could and will cause him lung cancer, etc etc it's mostly stuff he's heard before from her and their family. the thing that causes him to snap back into reality is [reader] saying her thoughts out loud, something along the lines of "i wish i could just suck the nicotine from your mouth so you don't have to risk it". he just looks at her bewildered (holy shit wouldn't that be KISSING???? 🙀🙀🙀) in fact [reader] would say a lot of weird shit while patching up her siblings.

"andrew, your hands are so big... and clammy, is your fever causing that?" "ashley your blood is such a pretty color. i would wear it as lipstick if i could." "hey andrew, did you know that you snore sometimes? you're so peaceful when you sleep, it makes me want to never wake you up." i think she just says weird shit in general, girly can NOT keep her thoughts to herself. the kids at her school dub her as weird and freaky, like ashley, and it causes them to grow closer together (especially with the one-year age gap) they eat lunch together and stick to each other like glue. they went to prom together too!! ashley invited [reader] over to her senior prom (andrew's there too if he could make it) and they dance with each other

"you guys look so beautiful... you two look like a couple" [reader] would giggle at andrew and ashley. andrew blushes at that comment and ashley makes it worse by saying "i know!!"

great times.... then they get quarantined :) not so great time, the lack of food as [reader] anout their health, especially since ashley insists on being active-- moving around and doing chores. she has to sometimes force ashley to get back into bed so she doesn't make herself faint again (andrew has [reader] help him move her to the couch or bed when this happens). i think [reader] would be strung up about starving too because it's not an easy fic for her; she can't just kiss the wound and put a band aid over it. not being able to help her siblings stresses her out and andrew and ashely notice this. they constantly have to remind her that it's not her fault that they're starving and she has nothing to apologize for

gods it would be awful if [reader] started to get suicidal too, or at least start becoming self sacrificing. "i could jump off the balcony..." she says out of nowhere when they're all watching TV "there's be one less mouth to feed, more food for you guys" and andrew and ashley are just like "NO". it honestly breaks their hearts seeing their baby sister feel so down and sad due to this fucking quarantine. "maybe i could chop off my arm and--" "[reader] SHUT UP!!! NO KILLING YOURSELF!!!"

(this definitely lead to the siblings cuddling or sleeping with [reader] not only to comfort themselves but also [reader], to make sure that she's alive too, you know? listening to her breathing and heart beat and feeling her warmth... maybe holding her tighter and closer, wrapping their arms around her in a tight hold. their heart cracks a little bit every time they hear her stomach growl in hunger. it's awful that she's withering away in this apartment and they hate that she blames herself in some capacity that they're suffering too when none of it is their fault; they're all suffering.)

speaking of chopping off arms, [reader] is immediately like "hey look food :D" when the cultist drops dead in the apartment. she helps andrew cut the cultists up while ashley cooks up dinner/breakfast and she's like "did you know that cooked human smells like pork" and andrew is like "please shut up". she also catches on quickly that the apartment isn't "quarantined due to contaminated water" but as a scheme to harvest organs. she's like " 3 x AB? like the blood type?" and "a book on human organs? huh... guys i think they're trying to take our organs" omg the interaction with the lady in 302 or whatever would be so fucking funny. ashley's accusing her of being a slut for food and [reader]'s like "so do you whore yourself out?"

(thinking back to that scene where someone got carried out of the apartment by ambulance, ashley's like "maybe they'd get me food if i got pregnant" and [reader]'s like "who's going to fuck you, andrew? besides pregnancy takes a lot of energy from the body and you need proper nutrition to make it and---" while andrew and ashley are just looking at her with wide eyes like 👁️👁️)

once they leave the apartment and get to the motel, [reader] probably gets her poison around here. idk how she got it earlier if she did. AAAAAHHHH THIS IS A COOL IDEA

thank you 'nonnie for ur genius. ur generosity knows mo bounds; i'm tearing into this shit like a mom stew (this is delicious food omg)

i hope you liked this, and indulge :3

----

coff-in

[chuunyu]

a very depressing rant about mizuki

I feel like I have devoured every piece of trans media I've been able to find and while they have all had a major impact on me, Mizuki Akiyama - a character from a miku rhythm game of all places - has had the biggest impact on me by far.

I feel like trans stories don't focus enough on the shame of being trans. I feel like there are a lot of characters that simply insist on their identity without being shown to work through everything that gets you to be shameless as a trans person, and it just feels, alienating?

I came out to myself 10 years ago when I was 14 and I've been on hrt since I was 18 (6 years hrt) but things haven't gotten better for me, they've only gotten worse. At first, I loved expressing my identity, but as I tried harder and harder to be my true self, my self perception became increasingly harsh to the point that I shaved my head. I couldn't handle the immense pressure placed on me by society to be unclockable, to be normal. I hated myself for being this scum that thought they could be a woman. I scolded myself for being a cosplayer. So I gave up.

After I cut my hair, I realized how bad of a mistake I had made, and I wanted more than anything to just be myself again, even if it hurt. I was myself again for 4 years, but I never lost my shame. Why can't I just be normal? Why can I not give in?? Life would be so much easier. I could eat in public again, I could go anywhere I wanted, I could get any job I wanted. I could live without feeling pitied, I could avoid the fake kindness of allies. I could live without a paranoia that made me nearly psychotic.

Mizuki's character encapsulates these feelings. When they were young, they tried to be themself, but not able to deal with the pain society inflicted on them, they repressed their identity. Luckily, once they found some safety, they tried again, but their worries never went away. They never got over their shame. They never accepted that they could be accepted.

For Mizuki, and for me, being trans is an existential obstacle. It's a curse that you wish you could remove, but the only way is through suicide. I will always feel inadequate, no matter how many surgeries I get to fix my shameful face. It's crushing. It makes me scream and cry until I lose my voice. It makes me wish I'd never been born.

After Mizu5, these feelings flooded deeper into my head. Mizuki's responses to the events resonated. To isolate themself, to flee into their imagination, to be hopelessly suicidal, it was all too real. They concluded that there was no place for them that could ever be. It's all things I've done and felt so many times that I can't even count. But as much as I've done these things, as much as Mizuki has done these things, we both just want to be loved. We want to be ourselves and feel truly comfortable. We want to just be safe, but who will give that safety? How can we be convinced that being ourselves is a life that we can live? An easy reply is that gender doesn't exist and that it's all just a game we're playing. As much as I agree with this, it's impractical. I can tell myself that gender doesn't exist as much as I want but when I stay in my school's studio for 10 hours in a day and my facial hair pierces my skin in public view, I have to hide. I cannot be visible. I cannot be myself. The world is not a nice place.

So what are we supposed to do as trans people? I want the answer, an answer that doesn't sidestep reality. I want to leave my room. I want to stop hating myself. I want to live the fantasy I envisioned as a kid.

It's the same with Mizuki. They are hopeless, but they want to be saved. They hate themself, but they want to love themself. They don't really want to die. They can't find an answer, but they want one. So what will that be? I feel like with the way Mizuki is written, the writers have to answer that question somehow. They will have to find a way to convince Mizuki that they don't have to hate themself for being trans. I really wonder what that answer will be. I wonder if it will be something new. I'm just, so sick of being coddled and told I'm normal. I know I'm not, I know I'm a disgrace. I just want an answer. I cut my hair again. I don't know when I will ever grow it back.

[thebottomfromhell]

In a scenario where the reader is a hashira, what do you think would happen to him if his relationship with a demon was discovered. I know you wrote something along those lines where the reader was someone ordinary. The Hashiras, in the original work, are mostly nice, but they are very strict-minded about demons, so I wonder what their reaction would be if one of their own basically "betrayed" them. If you think it's going to be very similar, you can just ignore it or just say what you think would happen, without it necessarily being a story. I would appreciate it just the same

The Hashira request I like, the one where we treat them as the corporation of hunters they are instead of the avengers! I usually don't like making reader a Hashira, since I like to make it relatable to most, and let's be honest, the power fantasy is nice but most wouldn't live past Kanoe XD. Besides, it's funnier to make powerless MC's who need constant saving. But once or twice can't hurt.

The Hashira will refer to reader as L/N, as Last Name. Like last time it won't specify gender nor who's Uppermoon reader is with. One difference would be that as a civilian, last time reader only knew about the corps due being warned by their couple, hence only saw them as a bounch of psychos, here they will be more aware of certain things.

Hashira find out Hashira!GN Reader has a relationship with an Upper Moon

Warnings: Manga spoilers, Torture (Mostly non-physical, and the ones ññ, Excesive violence, Mutilation, Mentioned non-consented drug use, Mention of character's death, Implied sexual content, Suicidal character with survival guilt (Giyuu) and Open ending.

You became a Hashira to save others, you were told sometimes you were someone that loves too much, even for this line of work, specially for this line of work. In your ranking, most of everyone is civil to each other (depending on your definition of civil), but there is at least a level of trust. But not the tradiotional trust of sharing your burdens or being able to do things together, every Hashira prefers to work without the others, but trust that everyone else will do their job and kill every demon they meet or die trying.

That is exactly the trust you broke, so everyone is angry, upset and thirsty for blood. Most Hashira think positive things about each other, you also had only good things to say when asked, but now? After all that conversations you had with your lover about the inferiority of humanity, that they are pests, barbaric, backstabbers, a necessary evil... you have to wonder. After they caged you without any warning or mercy, sending Kocho and Shinazugawa for you, ending up beated and drugged.... you wonder. You just wonder.

Is it actually right?

The fellow Hashira could have at least confronted you out of the sake of the this fellowship, you could recieve visits from someone that isn't Kocho, drugging you for the sake of being easier to handle for the kakushi. And not only she drugs you, she always makes sure to remind you of your situation. To shame you, to taunt you, to hurt you. "Ara ara, aren't you eager to move? This is the second time I have to drug you today. You should really give a slack to the kakushi, they are just trying to do their job. But again, considering what you did, I must really question if you care about the efforts of the people in the corps." She says smiling, even if your blurred vision doesn't let you see it clearly, you can tell by her tone. Shinobu spits poison so cafefully with every word. Because she hates you. "You know? A mere civilian or commoner would have a an excuse. The don't know the level of sacrifice we have made, the pain the demons have caused. You? You did. And you had one job, the same as us. To stop that pain or die trying, you should have done the later."

You know about Kanae. You were never told about the demon who killed her nor the details, but it's almost (Tokito...) impossible to be a Hashira and NOT know about her death on the hands of demons. You knew, know that most Hashira have lost something to demons, and yet you decided to get close to one. Close enough to become lovers. But... it was right, at the time. The gentle touches, the vulnerable moments, the softness. The beatings inside your chest, the warmness in your face, that lightness in that voice... you are in love. And that Uppermoon is too, or else you would be dead, like everyone seems to wish you were, already.

You have too much free time in your thoughts, since you are tied up in a way you can't move any of your limbs and struggling cut's your circulation, kept in a dark room, when light and noise only appear when the Kakushi are told to feed you, once a day at most. You have no idea if they were told to do it that way or they are only scared to face a "renegade Hashira" or whatever they call you when you can't hear them. Your body is sore, it has been for the longest time, and you feel constantly sick due Kocho's drugs. Dizzy, tired, too hot, wanting to throw out when anything touches your throat, and even after hours the needles stings remains in wherever she managed to shot you. You also never healed your leg when fighting Shinazugawa, at lealt not properly. You can still feel empty tissues and the bone in your thigh stabbing the flesh, with smaller piece stuck. Your nose is also broken, making you need to breath through the mouth. The only thing Kocho actually tended was a cut through your hand, so you don't die from the blood loss.

You still remember grabbing the tilt of your sword to protect yourself, only to have all of the digits cut out of the hand, keeping in each different fractions, but all of the without the tips. At first there was a fast and intense sting, similar to a burning senssation as your katana started to fall from your grip, then, for a second, a coldness that was at worst, annoying, some sort of emptyness. Finally, when the realization sink there was pain in your pulsating fingers, mixing a lasting feeling of both previous ones, fighting to be the dominant one. You still can feel, on a lesser extent, all the time, those sensations.

It takes a lot for you to not go mad with the lack of contact with everything, and that sensation of being ill. Part of you wonders if your beloved will save you, if any other Hashira will speak to at least let you defend yourself in vain. Every day it becomes less of a reality, which adds resentment. Part of you tells you that you were the one to betray them first, another that longs that sweet voice and touches angers, wanting nothing to get out, to go somewhere safe, with the demon you love. "My sister and my best friend were killed by demons..." One day you suddenly feel a voice besides you... Tomioka. He is giving you his back, speaking only high enough so you can make up what he is saying. "So I really hate them... how... how were you able to love such a monster, knowing well what others suffered because of them?"

You don't know the answer, you can't even speak coherently due the drugs on your system. That is a question you asked yourself so much, thinking that if you didn't fall like that, you wouldn't be in this situation... but... "Sp-cil.... hom.... looovd...." you wonder if the silence means resignation or understanding, but you are glad to have someone close. "You will not be forgiven... there is someone that might, but... he is not here right now, and seeing the situation is probably for the best. I'm sorry." You... honestly can't understand it. That is why you curse Tomioka after he leaves, even if he was the only one willing to listen to you. That feeling only gets worse when you realize he is not in your "trial", he didn't go. The others, as always were neither fast to condemn him or dismiss him because of it, but besides some of them changing the subject, nobody came to his defense. Like you have already realized nobody is comming for yours.

You don't listen when Oyakata-sama speaks, is your attention lacking or he is just talking too low due being sick? None the less you just watch the others. Tokito is there, you want to trash out, but are still drugged and tied up, at the fact the child is here. That is child is going to see you being excecuted... but does it make a difference, this child has killed even more powerful demons than you, and you has never seem to care. Is it really that different to see a human die than a demon? Because everyone else seems so eager to see you die as one. You wouldn't know, you never wished death upon any specific human nor killed any. Yes, sometimes you curse some more anstract subjects, like people who hurt others, some criminals, and so, but you have never talked to anyone and wished you could kill them.

Every Hashira seems obsessed with death in one way or another, even if it's only to avoid it like Mitsuri, who is crearly sobbing and trying to keep it down. "Where is Tomioka? We shouldn't start without him!" Asks Rengoku impossible to not hear him, even in your state, but you know that he isn't comming probably asked permission for it. Damn him, that coward. You can also basically hear the scoffs from Shinazugawa and Obanai. After some seconds you feel the Serpent Hashira stab your shoulder with that irregula blade, making the cut difficult ans uneven, not covering the bleeding at all. "Obanai! Stop! Do not let your anger cloud your judgement!" Himejima acrually screams, and Obanai is close enough for you to hear and see him decently.

There is also a significant, loud, growing hatred in his eyes. Being any other situation you would tease that it's because you made Kanroji cry, but you know better. It's because he trusted you to kill demons and die trying, and you didn't. Come to think about it, it's an unfair standard to hold against anyone. What about those who had someone to go hone to? What about those too young to die? What about those who have a bright future ahead? Is everyone expected to? "My judgement?! What about L/N's judgement! This level of treason is unforgivable! It deserves more than a quick death! I apologize, Oyakata-sama, but I can't accept your desition!" Kanroji only cries harder at the time she speaks. "NO! NO! Y/N-SAN IS STILL OUR FRIEND! WE SHOULD AT LEAST MAKE IT AS PAINLESS AS POSSIBLE!"

"OUR FRIEND? A FRIEND DOESN'T GO AND SLEEP WITH THE ENEMY! IF L/N SIDES WITH THE ENEMY THEN WE TREAT THEM AS SUCH!" Shinazugawa screams at her, moving her direction angrily, so both Kocho and Rengoku put themself in between. You can't hear what Kocho says, but you can definetely make up what Rengoku does. "Shinazugawa! I understand your anger! This betrayal woould never go unpunished! But if we torture and rip L/N as we pleasw we won't be better than demons! We must answer with humanity!"

There is arguing, a lot of noise, Himejima and Tokito-kun are the only ones that are not with to it, besides the big boss who will only let them cool down by themselves, but you don't know that because you can make any voice out of the sounds, but because you know them. You know them... You spoke with them, shared meals and stories with some, worked with them... you know them, and they know you. And still, they will be the ones to kill you as long as they sort their shit out before you bleed to death.

"SILENCE! THIS IS SO UNFLASHY, WE SHOULD NOT BE GOING AGAINST EACH OTHER AFTER SUCH AN EVENT. We are already too on edge for this treason, we we can handle it. We should not be losing trust on each other!" Suddenly screams Uzui as he takes out his weapons, unecesaryly moving them for show, having the blades surrounding his torso, arms and shoulders without a single scratch on him. "I should be the one who deals with this. I know how to make it fast." He gets close to you as your vision becomes even more blured, to the point everything is red. Not black yet, you can basically see your eyelids and your own blood on the ground. You feel cold, trembling violently, you are pain, wanting to throw up your empty, tight and twisted stomach, feeling as if your organs will leave your body through the mouth the second you give into that urge. You pant, having a hard time breathing, every muscles is sore and protests... You are scared.

You swore that was what forced you to stay awake, even after loosing so much blood, but then... "Well, isn't this sad?" You hear a voice loud and clear, masculine. One that you have never heard before but still edges you. Your heart beats faster and normally you would worry about what that would mean something for the bloodloss, but... you don't feel like you are loosing blood, on the contrary, you feel more. "To be honest, I didn't notice at first you had my blood in your system, but now that you are weak, loosing the liquids of your body, the few drops you had inside are taking over. I won't pretend I don't know about your... intimacy with one of my powerful demons, but let me tell you this. It can save you."

You.... can be saved? You want to be saved, you have no idea where Uzui is, if he is near and ready to make the last blow or the arguing is stopping him. "You see, right now I can speak with you, share myself, but I can't take any look in your mind. But if you were to say where you are, I will gladly save you. Just tell where where are the ones who hurt you, and I'll even reward you with more blood. Don't you think it's a winning deal for you?" You cal sell out everyone for your own survival. Do you actually want them to die? To be killed. You feel suddenly a bit better, as the demon cells fight off the drugs.

You take air into your lungs softly and-

Tomioka Giyuu is in his home. He didn't want to be part of this. For now he doesn't want to think about it, the fact that one day he might take your place for not killing that demon girl. Urokodaki sends him letters of Kamado Tanjiro's process, the boy sends him his own letters too. He reads them all. Right now he has a brush in his hands, wondering if he should answer. He is tempted to write back, congratulate him, tell him he is doing good, to take care of himself and his sister, or at least to warn him about some difficulties he might face.

He can't. He doesn't want to get attached, no matter how nice and lovely the boy is, of how much he reminds him of himself when younger, except Tanjiro has more talent and is more capable that he was at his age. He will make a great water Hashira, far better than him. But for that Tomioka can't risk the others undermining his judgement by defending you. He didn't know if he would or not, and he didn't want to find out. Right now, that important thing is to ensure that the boy will take his place, and that means taking his distance too. Because everyone that Giyuu has ever held so dear into his heart dies. His sister and Sabito.... and even if you too were not close, not really friend... but still.

"It shoukd have been me." Is the only thing he can think as he sets the brush aside, not having written anything, and saving the letters carefully in a box. Then, just silence.

It doesn't matter anymore.

[trancylovecraft]

(KNY) YANDERE PLATONIC! KOKUSHIBO x SISTER READER: You, Shibou. I, Kokoro (CHAPTER FIVE)

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CHAPTER FIVE: "These explanations are valid. But it should be known if the same day a friend of the desperate hasn't spoken to him with an indifferent tone.."

Mourning is the expression of grief after someone died. There are several types of mourning with an example being Chronic Grief.

Symptoms for this kind of grief can include extreme feelings of hopelessness, A sense of disbelief and a loss of meaning. All of which can lead to severe clinical depression or thoughts of self harm and even suicide.

The song of sparrows and swallows danced through the summer breeze, All sat nestled within the vegetation as they hummed their melody.

The soft sunlight shone down upon the shrine, Giving a blessing of quiet light to the abundance of blossoming flowers nearby. [F/N] blinked once, Trying to figure out whether what she was seeing was a mirage or reality.

Was this the afterlife? It certainly felt like it as the gentle warmth caressed her skin, A calm embrace that pacified her worries. It felt peaceful, Something so tranquil that she couldn't help but melt into the porch she was perched on.

She felt the heat of the wood as she laid against it, Like a firm hand cupping her cheek as she basked in the sunlight. Her worries quickly dissolving into nothing at the touch.

Afterlife.. Why did she mistake her everyday as the Afterlife? How did it even come up in the first place? [F/N] had no idea. She huffed lightly, Only mildly confused as she nuzzled further into the comfort of the timber.

She took a moment to take it all in. The rustle of the leaves, The cicadas in the bushes, The clear sapphire skies looking over her. It was beautiful, A serene little world all to herself, It was paradise.

Life was nice, It was simple and tranquil. She tended to the crops, To the shrine and the wellbeing of the forest. And after she was done with that she could spend her day roaming around with the wildlife, Spending time with her brothers and watching them train.

It was good.

"[F/N]..!"

She heard her name called out to her, And without a second thought or any bodily control [F/N] jolted up from her lying position to look across the courtyard.

"Lying on the porch again? You're gonna get sunburn if you keep doing that.."

[F/N] watched her older brother, Michikatsu, Slowly make his way over to her. He had a single hand on the hilt of his sword while the other was wiping the training sweat from off his brow, A light smile playing on his face as he did.

"Michi-Nii! You're back!" [F/N] exclaimed as she hopped up from the porch, Quickly dusted herself off before running over to him and jumping into his arms so swiftly that it made him stumble back a bit.

"Ah! [F/N], You need to be more careful.. You could of knocked me over." Michikatsu scolded, Yet the warmth playing in both his eyes as he held her up told [F/N] all she needed to know.

"As if! You're too tough for that." [F/N] grinned as she looked down on her older brother.

Michikatsu shook his head lightly

"You really give me too much credit sometimes.." Michikatsu remarked as he brought his gaze away from her, His smile was still there yet [F/N] could see the slight quirk.

She reached over and held his shoulder, The touch bringing him back to his senses as he looked right back at [F/N].

"You don't give yourself enough credit, You're able to train for hours at a time and not even get tired. I'd definetly consider that tough!" [F/N] said, The smile evident in her voice as she said so.

Michikatsu frowned

"I hear you saying things like that all the time to Yorichii, You know? I appreciate your words but.." Michikatsu trailed off from his sentence, The venomous undertone spiking in concentration at the mention of his twin.

[F/N] squeezed his shoulder.

"…But Yori-nii doesn't train for hours at a time, Does he? I mean all my words to him, I really do but if I am being honest.." [F/N] paused as she lowered her voice. "You've got drive to be strong. It's really admirable, You know? Yori-nii may be strong and such but honestly, You have the passion to do it.. It's you who I look up to." [F/N] admitted.

A nervous giggle followed her words, Like she was slightly embarrassed by the fact she was actually able to confess it to him.

Michikatsu seemed shocked as he heard this, The light in his blank eyed stare seemed to spark up like wood to friction as he looked up at his sister. The grip on her grew only a smidge tighter as he smiled.

"You.. You really mean that?" Michikatsu asked.

[F/N] beamed back at him, An expression that almost seemed as warm as the sun as she looked back at him.

"Of course I mean it! You're my-" [F/N] cut herself off suddenly, Her words dying on her tongue. The happy grin slowly dissolving into a puzzled frown.

"[F/N]?" Michikatsu asked as he noticed the grip on his shoulder loosen, Then eventually fall to her side.

"You're my.." [F/N] mumbled. Michikatsu set her down onto the ground, Her feet lightly touching the smoothed dirt as she stood there quietly.

Michikatsu went down onto a single knee to level his eyes with her far-off ones.

"[F/N].. Are you alright?" He asked, Eyes searching for the answer as he watched her brows knit together. Her stare returning to him as her visage contorted into a slightly alarmed expression.

"I.. I don't know.. Who are you?" [F/N] exclaimed, Her stance stumbled back. Her breath growing heavy as she felt the world around her darken, The sun burning so bright before seemed to melt away into a endless black void.

"[F/N]" Her name sounded so distorted when he spoke now, As she looked back at him she could see that it wasn't just the sun that was melting.

It was his face too.

Like melting wax his features turned into sludge. His nose, Eyes and mouth all dripped down and fell into a puddle on the ground, Which started pulling them both in like quicksand.

[F/N] screamed.

She tried to pull away once his molten arm lunged out for hers, Yet she was too slow. His rapidly deteriorating limb locking onto hers, Yanking her forward off her feet and into his grasp.

[F/N] cried even louder, Tears starting to rush out of her ducts as she felt the sludge touch her skin.

He kept making noises as he pulled her in, Strangled and choked wails like he was in pain. Like his vocal chords were mangled and severed inside his throat. [F/N] struggled, She flailed about in his hold. Kicked, Punched, Hit, Anything. Anything at all to get out of the sludge starting to envelop her whole.

It latched onto her legs, Onto her arms and her mid-section. It was like it was desperate, Like it's life depended on bringing her as close as possible.

What was happening? Why was the entire world that seemed so tranquil before turn into a candle wax nightmare? The entire world seemed to follow suit of the monster intent on consuming her, Dripping away and mixing together like a raindrops on a window.

Her screams mixed into the dissolving world too, Sounds combining with the shrill cries of the monster as she felt the nigh-boiling heat of his molten flesh grasp onto her face. [F/N] felt her own skin start to bubble.

Then eventually, She felt herself start to melt.

☆♡☆

Her body jolted like skin to an exposed wire, Eyes shooting open as she gasped for air.

She felt her lungs rapidly expand then decrease, A cold sweat running down her back as she tried to gather her racing thoughts. [F/N]'s body felt like it had been frozen to the touch, Both with the sheer temperature of the chilling room and the stiffness of her unthawed limbs. They felt so numb, The only feeling was the minute aching of her joints so far spread that it was like she hadn't moved in weeks.

What happened? [F/N] gripped the side of her head, A throbbing pain in her frontal lobe pulsated as she groaned in pain. It made it hard to recollect herself, To remember what could of happened.

Her spare hand felt around, Vision still a tad blurry as her fingers met the soft touch of thick fabric.

[F/N] tried to blink away the fuzz in her sight as she continued to feel around, It was the cotton bedding of a futon.

She groaned, Finally piecing together enough parts of the puzzle to come to terms of what happened.

[F/N] had fallen asleep, She had another nightmare.

[F/N] sighed. A tired yet tad annoyed exhale of air escaped her lungs as her body stilled onto the futon like a rolling coin, The soft mattress feeling like delicate silk on her skin as she relaxed.

Her memories, They came back to her like a heeling dog. [F/N] recalled the fight with Uppermoon one, Her fatal injuries, The destruction of her shrine.. She felt her heart jolt at the thought of it.

The walls which sheltered her through thick and thin, The ruined hallways that held such talkative life and the ceilings that housed the injured and maimed.. All destroyed within a single night.

The thought of it disgusted [F/N], During the fight she hadn't thought much of it- The raw adrenaline being a distraction to it's fall. She calmed down rather quickly however.

The fight with the Uppermoon, Her injuries, The shrine's destruction. It wasn't real, It couldn't be.

Because she was currently lying in her bedroom.

It was dark, [F/N] could barely see a foot in front of her due to the poor lack of lighting. Despite it however she could make out the basic shapes of furniture lying within the shadows. The closet, The dresser and the tatami mats lain out were all there, Just like they've always been.

The shoji door's that let in only a crack of periwinkle light, The several statues of worship scattered about, Everything she owned, They were here.

It all must of been a dream, Her bedroom was destroyed along with the rest of the shrine so it was completely impossible to be lying down on her futon right now.

[F/N] felt a low frustration rise in her throat. These nightmares were getting out of hand. It was easier when it was the blizzard, Then she knew what to expect, She knew what she was getting into despite how horrid it would be.

Now? Dreams involving "Uppermoon one", Both the melting flesh and the shrine invasion were so much worse. They changed every time, She had no idea what was coming, Had no preparation at all.

The latter was particularly worse. Mitsuri's face, Her hysterical begging for [F/N] not to go, It burned into her mind like a branding. Not to mention the finality of her death only to wake up and find out it was just a nightmare.

[F/N] thought she finally got it over with, She supposed not however, The shrine was proof of that.

Though these dreams had to be a sign, But of what?

[F/N] stretched her arms slightly, Trying to wear off the numbness in her joints as she tried to haul her upper body into a sitting position, Only to yelp out in pain and fall back into the silky mattress.

A sharp pain feeling appeared in her abdomen once she tried to get up, It felt like a dozen knives stabbing into her, Twisting and turning within her guts.

[F/N] groaned, Her hands reaching down to the point of pain only to come to touch with what felt like bandage dressing.

Her eyes widened, Needing to confirm this information she quickly shoved off the covers protecting her from the cold draft. And sure enough, She was right.

Wrapped tightly yet carefully across her abdomen were thick bandages, Wrapped entirely around the front to her back.

Small splotches of red seemed to stain parts of the dressing, One's that made [F/N]'s jaw drop agape as she peered down at her core.

What.. What does this mean..?

Her dream.. In her dream she was fatally wounded, She had finally died.. All due to deep injury inflicted on her. It had to be a dream though, She was in her shrine of course!

But it was here, The dressing was covering the exact place she had been struck.

[F/N] planted both hands on each side of her and with great effort she slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position, Careful not to trigger the pain.

Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead as she finally sat up. She was simply dressed in an oversized Jinbei, Sleep clothing that seemed too big for her stature yet stayed comfortable draped on it anyways.

She breathed in and out. What was happening? The shrine around her started to seem more distorted than it did before. Furniture seeming bigger or smaller than she remembered, Things misplaced.

All of it just starting to seem.. off.

It was her shrine but.. Something was wrong. Something very wrong. The feeling creeping up her spine didn't help either. An uncomfortable dread climbing up her back and drenching her in sweat, A feeling that felt like she was being watched.

Her open maw snapped shut. Her body growing rigid in place, The eyes like that of a gorgons.

Something was watching her

From her peripherals, She could see six glowing amber eyes were watching her from within the darkness.

They were piercing. Even though she only dared to see through the corners of her vision she could tell how intense their gaze was, How they seemed to be looking right through her, Glaring right into her soul.

She felt her hands start to tremble. Her mouth growing dry as her thoughts felt like they were going a thousand miles per minute, Racing to find a solution.

The eyes.. There eyes were looking at her.. What was she going to do? What could she do?

[F/N] had no time to think as they started to move.

The six glowing points shifted and moved within the shadows like fireflies. [F/N] could only make out the general shape of the being as it morphed within the darkness into what looked like a standing position.

[F/N] didn't need to have another thought, She knew who it was. It was the man from her 'dreams'.

Uppermoon one.

In her dream or at least what she thought was a dream he seemed much less.. Imposing. It's not to say he wasn't, He certainly was but it was easily ignorable due to the heat of the moment and [F/N]'s own desires.

But now as his frightening form emerged from the dark corners, His sinister prescence nigh-radiating from his figure she could only turn her head over in horror to meet his hellish visage staring right back at her.

This was the man from her dreams. The man in the blizzard, This was him.

The image of his open mouth ready to bite down, Body lunging for her. Teeth digging into the flesh of her arm. All of it flashed in her mind in rapid motion. How could she be so stupid to not figure it out?

This was what Inari was warning her about.

"You're awake.." His voice sent a freezing chill through her system, Her heart feeling like it was restarting inside of her chest as her breathing grew ragged.

Her mask. Where was her mask?

[F/N]'s fight or flight activated. Her fighter instincts finally kicking in as her hand shot out to where her mask usually sat, Hidden within her haori.

But she came up empty, Her hand only touching the side of her jinbei.

Her mask was nowhere in sight.

"I've been waiting so long.. For you to awaken.." Uppermoon one rasped. He took careful calculated steps towards her, A steady pace that moved him closer to [F/N] ever so slowly.

What was he going to do to her? She couldn't fight back, Her mask..

She was completely useless without her mask. It was the source of her body strength, The one she was most used to fighting in. Her body now was too frail, Not to mention the large gash in her abdomen.

She was helpless.

The only thing she could do was back away on the futon, Pushing herself as far into the corner as she could. Get as much distance between him and her as she eyed him up and down, Waiting for his next move.

"W-What do you want.. How am I here..?" Her voice was filled with defensive malice, Yet it shook under the weight of the situation. Her terror seeping through it all.

Kokushibo didn't falter in his stride as he approached her. The room was dark, The only thing illuminated was his eyes as he stopped in front of the futon. Staring down at her shrunken form.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at her, His knee's crouching down so he was as close to her level as possible.

[F/N] felt like a sitting duck under him. His hand reached out, Light from his eyes shining off his claws.

She clenched her eyes shut, Not wanting to know wha-

A cold palm touched the side of her cheek, A chilling sensation that felt like dry ice on her skin, So much so that it almost felt a scorching fire.

"Open your eyes.. I want to see them.." He commanded. Out of fear she did what he said and gazed up at him.

She looked upon his face, Her eyes locked onto his that looked down at her with such an odd emotion, Such a strange way his bloodshot eyes seemed so calm. A way that disturbed her down to her very core.

His palm was cupping her cheek, Claws careful not to graze her as his thumb rubbed gently over her skin. Eyes searching for something before a small uncanny smile appeared on his face looking so unnatural on him, Showing off the row of sharp teeth settled in his maw.

"You're here.. You're really here.. The gods have given you back to me after all these centuries.." He mumbled under his breath as his thumb rubbed the outline of her cheekbones.

[F/N] didn't understand, Mind like tangled threads as she spoke out once again.

"W-Where am I.. Why.. W-Why am I alive?" She cried. Tears brimming on the ledge of her eyes as she shied away from his sickening touch, Not for long however as his hand just gripped the side of her face harder, Keeping her in place.

Kokushibo shook his head lightly.

"You are frightened.. It is understandable.. You have woken up with an injury and most assumedly a headache.. I do sincerely apologise for that.. But I ask you to calm down.. You are safe now.." He spoke, His tone trying its best to mimic a comforting tone while [F/N] didn't believe his words for a single second.

She swallowed down the sheer terror in her throat.

"A-Answer me.. W-Why am I here.. Alive?" [F/N] repeated. Kokushibo only caressed the side of her cheek, His face filled up with thought as he began to speak.

"..It is a rather silly question.. Why you are here should already be obvious to you.. And alive..? You are lucky I was able to provide first aid.. Otherwise.." He trailed off, The last of his words going unspoken as his smile dropped.

[F/N] took the chance to speak, A small slither of vigour still left in her as she did.

"It's not obvious at all.. Explain it to me, I-I should be dead.. I should.. Why am I alive, Where am I.. What do you plan on doing with me?" She looked back up at him with the steadiest expression she could muster, One of which he completely ignored in favour of his stare turning.. Miffed.

"You.. You should be aware of why you are here.. Do you not recognise me, Little one?" Kokushibo asked. His demeanour started to shift to a more recognisable aura, Something serious. More dark in the hum of his voice.

"I-I.." She recognised him alright. His face was burned into her vision every time she blinked. Met his eyes every time she slumbered, But judging by the tone of his voice.. That wasn't the right answer.

"No.." [F/N] said, Shaking her head as she watched his frown contort into a scowl. One which she shrunk back into the corner at as he dropped the hand cupping her cheek, Letting it fall to his side.

"I.. No.. You said my name.. You called me by my nickname, The one you always used.. You remember, Don't you?" Kokushibo's voice, The serious tone was still there, Permeating his voice yet the lilt undertone of a pleading man, Desperate and confused radiated within his voice.

[F/N] sharpened her jaw, She had no idea what he was talking about. He spoke as if he knew her, Like she was an old friend yet she couldn't recall ever knowing him.

"I.. I don't know your name.. I-I.. I don't know who you are.." [F/N] replied.

Her words seemed to trigger something within him, His scowl growing more angry as he backed away from the futon. [F/N] watched on as he turned his back to her, His body going completely still, Almost disturbingly so as he just stood there without making a single move.

[F/N] took a deep breath in, One she didn't know she needed as she tried to steady the beating of her drumming heart. The sweat dripped down her face freely, She needed to make a move.

Quietly swinging her legs over the side of the futon she placed them down onto the wooden floorboards, All while eyeing the demon a few feet away from her like an ticking bomb.

[F/N] softly got up from the futon. The pain in her abdomen diluted down, The shock before had caused it to seem worse than it already was. It was bad, But she could work with it, She always had.

She placed another foot down in front of her, The wooden boards were old, She needed to be careful as she quietly circled around him. Trying her best not to alert him to her movements as she went.

[F/N]'s stretched out hand eventually felt the wood of the shoji door, The one letting bioluminescent light through the single crack it made. Feeling around she caught her fingers on the edge.

She carefully slid it open, Though it didn't matter as the careful light illuminating from the other side flooded into the room like a rising sun over a dead night. Snapping Kokushibo out of whatever trance he had been in and jerk his head over to her position.

"You..!"

[F/N] didn't wait to hear what he had to say, Her feet moved for her as she took off into the hallway at the first alarm raised.

She ran throughout the hall barefoot, The sole of her foot feeling the sharp splinters digging into her like porcupine hide as she went. It didn't matter in the slightest though, Not the pain stabbing into her soles or the warped caricature of her shrine's hallways as she sprinted through past the old tapestries and near-ancient support beams.

Is he following me? Where's the exit? Run now, Think later she chided. [F/N] didn't stop for a second to look around or listen out for the possibility of heavy footsteps following her as she went. Her mind was dead-set on escape.

She sharply turned round corners, Fumbled her way through the winding hallways as she finally reached a set of creaked cedar stairs. [F/N] took no time in descending them, Each step slightly bending under her quick motions as she got to the bottom.

Despite the warped mimicry of her shrine, Walls and hallways worn out and minimized, [F/N] could still navigate it with a finesse that left her fast on her feet.

Her internal GPS carried her feet and guided her along. In front of her was the main shrine doors, Two wide cedarwood doorframes with windows that let in a bluish-green light into the shadow blessed pathway.

This was it. She was going to get out, It was only a few more seconds until she reached her salvation. Her exit from this live-nightmare, Such a thought that made her pace quicken. Heart thudding so hard she felt like it would explode.

[F/N] reached out her steady hands, Reaching the door she slammed her hands down and shoved them wide open to where the courtyard should be.

Rushing out int-

[F/N] stride shuddered in its steps. The once determined sprint fizzled out into a walk, Then she stopped completely in her tracks all together.

Her eyes widened, Irises shaking in their sclera as she felt her knees start to wobble.

W-What.. What does this.. Where..

In front of her wasn't the courtyard. No.. It wasn't the courtyard at all.

Standing before her was an infinite sea, An endless dark plane that seemed to stretch on forever. There was no end. Up, Left, Right.. All of it was an infinite expanse in all directions. A fast breeze blew out from nowhere at all, Hitting her face and snapping her out of the horrified trance she was stuck in.

She snapped her head down to the ground she was standing on. What should of been the smooth dirt of the courtyard was instead a wide rickety dock, One that seemed just as endless as the void, Branches of the dock stretching out like tree roots around the shrine connecting and ending seemingly at random.

This.. This couldn't be real… This must be another dream, It had to be! It appeared like a lovecraftian-esque pocket dimension, Nothing from the real world, Nothing from reality at all.

Her palms were clammy. [F/N] took a few wearied steps, Disbelief shown in her eyes as she felt the heel of her foot land on nothing. She yelped out, Quickly backing up onto the dock as she peered over the edge.

It was an aquamarine sea. The one that the dock's structure ventured deep down into the depths of, Blurring out in the faint turquoise glow rising up from the foaming aqua. Gumussevri, The light it emitted being the only source within the infinity surrounding them.

This didn't make sense.. It couldn't.. How could it? [F/N] felt the glimmer of hope extinguish under the seafoam waves of the water below. How could she ever hope to escape..?

[F/N] felt the slow depression of the dock before she heard the footsteps. Heavy, Slow and stoic as she felt the doors behind her shut gently, That being the thing bringing her attention as she turned around.

Kokushibo was only a couple metres away from her. [F/N] felt her eye twitch, That's why he didn't run after her.. That's why he didn't catch her a soon as she stepped foot out of the room.

He knew she had nowhere else to run.

"[F/N].. I am offended.. Why would you try to get away from me..? You.. You must remember me.. You must. You said my name, It's undeniable proof.." He accused, Standing in a complete stance.

His eyes pierced into her like javelins, Sharp and scrutinizing yet it still held that strange quality of desperation. It made her shiver and that in turn made his frown sharpen. How he knew her first name didn't matter to her in that moment, She only opened her mouth ready for a rebuttal.

[F/N] breathed. She had gotten this far.

"I've told you, I don't know your name nor do I know how you know mine. I don't know who you are and I certainly don't know what you want with me.. Whoever you think I am, I am obviously not." [F/N] argued. She bared her teeth, Trying to steady her jaw.

Kokushibo shook his head. He took a single step towards her and in response she took several more back.

"[F/N].. You have been asleep for a few weeks.. I suppose I should of predicted your confusion but.." He paused

"Maybe it's possible that you don't recall.." He muttered. A few weeks?! She had been asleep for several weeks, Assumedly healing under the care of this cold monster standing in front of her acting friendly as it could.

She'd lament over it later though, What mattered was here and now. And right now he was starting to aggravate her.

[F/N] clenched her fist. How stubborn could he be? She didn't know him, Had only seen him as warnings in dreams yet he acted as if they had known each other for decades. He was completely delusional and to spite all the terror she was feeling in this moment, It pissed [F/N] off.

"Then if you do not remember.. Let me refresh your memory, Little one.." Kokushibo said.

"My name is Kokushibo.. I hold the highest rank within the twelve moons, Sitting at Upperrank one.." He started.

"Though.. You should be recognising me as Michikatsu Tsugikuni.. Your older brother.." Kokushibo announced, His eyes staring down onto her, Closely examining her facial expression. Waiting intently for her reaction.

[F/N] stilled. Her body growing rigid as if she was fixed to the dock by nails.

"..I'm sorry.. What?" She asked. Her eyes blinking rapidly as she looked up at him in disbelief.

"..I am your big brother.. And you are my little sister.." He repeated so clearly yet his voice seemed incoherent to her ears. [F/N] swallowed a lump in her throat, If she thought he was delusional before he now looked completely insane to her now.

He was a demon.. An Uppermoon, He must of been hundreds of years old at the very least yet here he was claiming to be her sibling? It didn't add up, He looked at her like she was meant to understand but she couldn't find a single puzzle piece that fit.

"Impossible.. You're hundreds of years old and I have absolutely no older siblings.."

Kokushibo breathed out, The carbon dioxide showing in the chill-raising air as he took another step forward towards her. This time, [F/N] didn't move back.

"Impossible, Yes.. I thought the same thing once I saw you again.. You died near enough five hundred years ago yet there you were.. Bleeding out within the rubble of your desecrated shrine.. For centuries I grieved for you.." He lamented. A sudden pain crossing him as he seemed to recall something deep within him.

He was spouting sheer madness. He was the one who took her here against her own wishes and nursed her back to physical health, It made her heart writhe around inside her and this time she couldn't bite her tongue.

"I-I am not your sister, We are not related in any way… I don't know how goddamn delusional you need to be to think as such! You are a demon, Not my brother.. I want you to piss off and leave me alone, You fucking monster!" [F/N] cried. The terrified tone only an afterthought suddenly grew back into the forefront of her mind as she watched him close.

As soon as the word monster rolled off her tongue his body stilled, His expression going blank as he stared down at her with an unrecognisable expression. It disturbed her right down to her stomach, Even more so when she felt the heat.

"You.. You will not speak to me like that, Little one.." He said through gritted teeth. [F/N] felt her body raise up into that state of flight or fight once more, His soul radiating such a boiling hot heat that [F/N] could feel it in her bones.

It was obvious he was trying to hold back his anger, Yet it spilled out of the brims of his expression. The twitch of his fingers and the glare he gave her, She could tell and it utterly horrified her.

"As your older brother and the last remaining head of our clan.. You will treat me with respect.. It doesn't matter if you're confused or have.. forgotten entirely.. You address me in proper honorifics like a good younger sister should." Kokushibo hissed. Venom near dripping off every word as he started approaching her trembling form.

His footsteps were slow, Drawing out every step as he finally loomed over her. Shadow cast over him as [F/N] looked up at him, Body aching for her to run.

Whatever fa��ade of cold comfort he put up was completely shattered now, His eyes brimming with malice and his fingers itching the reach for the hilt of his sword. Itching to strike her down.

"I've been praying for this day for centuries.. For the wish that you would come back to me.. You said you would never leave me again, And I fully intend to hold you to your promise.. You cannot run.. So come back here now and I will forget this little mistake.. If you do not, I assure your time here will be much more.. Nightmarish.." He commanded lowly. Slowly moving towards her

"..No matter how far you go I will always be right behind you.. You will not escape me."

But that didn't mean she wasn't willing to try.

Her legs moved before she could comprehend she was. Quickly turning around and sprinting off down the dock in her nightwear and splotched dressing as she cried out in sheer utter helplessness.

Kokushibo paused as he watched her go. He didn't bother run after her, He knew she wouldn't get far.

As [F/N] carefully navigated throughout the labyrinth of docks she could hear his quiet voice call after her, Echoing through the void and seeping through her as she ran.

"Tire yourself out all you want.. Run as long and as far as you like but you will never be able to leave me.. Not again. When you come back.. Do not expect to be treated with such affection that I have offered you thus far.. Not until you stop with this stupid rebellious phase of yours.."

Though [F/N] could barely hear him, As his silhouette shrunk further and further into the vastness of the void.

All until he disappeared completely

☆♡☆

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Three soft and precise knocks hit against the thin cut of the rosewood door.

Sounds of quiet shuffling could be heard from within the house, Settling of cups and screeching of chairs as footsteps started to move their way over to the closed entrance.

The door slid open only a peep, Only enough for the weathered face of a middle-aged man to careen his head over to get a good look out past it.

"Hello..?"

"Hello there!" A polite and cheery voice spoke out to him, One that sounded exaggerated and overly-friendly compared to his quiet yet cordial tone. The girl the voice belonged to smiled lightly and clasped her hands together.

"My name is Shinobu Kocho from the Demon Slayer Corps, If I am not mistaken.. This is the Kanroji household is it not?" Shinobu asked. Glassy orchid eyes staring into the ones of the older mans, His own softened at her introduction as he nodded.

"Ah.. Yes. You two must be my daughter's colleague's." He said. The slightly cracked open door slid ajar, His shoulders softening and a small welcoming smile grew onto his aged face as he looked at the two slayers.

Shinobu, A woman of short stature similar to that of a mantis. She held an eternal far off gaze that seemed clouded with the salesman smile plastered onto her face like concrete. Her butterfly haori and short tied hair danced in the wind as he looked over at the other man behind her.

"Greetings.." Was all the other slayer said as he lightly bowed down to him.

Despite being taller than his colleague, He was still rather short. He had a mop of choppy black hair that looked overgrown as it covered his shadowed his face well, That and along with the bandages he used as a mask made his features nigh hidden. The only thing peeking out from over the mask was mismatched eyes.

"Ah, You must have more manners then that!" Shinobu exclaimed lightly as she giggled it off.

"I apologise for my friend here.. This is my co-worker Iguro Obanai. And yes, We're here to see Mitsuri-chan about recent events I'm sure you've been informed of?" Shinobu inquired, Tilting her head to the side while Obanai muttered something under his breath and swept his head to the side.

Mr. Kanroji nodded, His smile only dropping an inch.

"Yes.. I'm aware. You two better come in then." He nodded as he stepped a side, Raising an arm to welcome them into his abode. Shinobu smiled and thanked him as she made her way inside, Iguro following closely behind her as they entered the livingroom.

It was a cosy little room, It was homely and warm yet had enough room for a large family to move around in comfortably. It was beautifully decorated, Clean-cut furniture and masterfully painted moving doors.

It was a rather large family home, The inner walls of the house being compiled of entirely open shoji-doors revealing the wide open plan of the entire building.

"It's a nice home you have.." Iguro muttered as he made his way to the middle of the room.

"Thank you. Me and my wife are both rather house-proud.." He chuckled lightly "It's been easier to take care of since the little ones have grown bigger and gotten much more responsible. I love them all, But do they make mess I'd tell you.."

Shinobu airily laughed along with him.

"Yes! I have a few little girls who I provide for back home with me, Children are quite troublemakers aren't they?" Shinobu replied as she turned to the man.

"Aha! Isn't that the truth.." He smiled. "Though unfortunately we aren't here to talk about our kids.."

"No, Unfortunately not." Iguro confirmed, Nodding his head lightly as he started talking.

"It's about The Shrine Invasion Incident that occurred a few weeks ago, We're here to talk to Mitsuri-san about what happened when she was there and get her statement. About both the demon that attacked and the.. Casualties" Iguro explained.

Mr. Kanroji sighed.

"Yes. You're referring to [F/N], Right?" He asked.

Shinobu nodded.

"Correct. I understand that [F/N] was very close to Mitsuri-chan.. That and along with Fujimori-san of course." She said. As she did she slid a quick wink over to Mr. Kanroji and subtly signalled towards Iguro, Who didn't notice a thing.

Mr. Kanroji paused before nodding back.

"Right. Come, We can discuss this while we walk" He said. Beckoning them with his hand and turning his back and starting to walk at a leisurely pace out of the livingroom. Both slayers nodded and followed after him.

"So, Can you recall what happened when she came home?" Shinobu asked him as she trailed behind.

"Yes. It was in the early morning.. Both me and my wife were barely awake when we heard the banging on the door. When we opened it she just ran into my arms, She was hysterical and we could barely make a word out of what happened.. It was a painful sight to see.." He explained, Shaking his head.

"Ah.. I see" Shinobu said. "I'm aware that you and your wife were also quite familiar with [F/N]?"

Mr. Kanroji smiled once again yet it held none of that bright attitude he had before, It was instead blocked by a dark cloud hanging over him like a noose.

"Right.. Mitsuri and [F/N] were basically inseparable back when they were young, So much so that she was over at our place most of the time. [F/N] didn't have the best home life you see, Not that she had much of one to begin with but.. She stayed over so often, Helped out with chores and played with the younger kids so much that at points I even considered her my own. And I'm pretty sure my wife did too" Mr. Kanroji tried to play off the sombre undertone in his voice with a light-hearted giggle, Yet it was futile under the heaviness of his bleak voice.

"It was horrible when the news came to light. We both were broken up by her.. Choice of actions. But Mitsuri.. She just.. She just broke down entirely." He said. Shinobu's eyes narrowed in confusion.

Choice of actions, What he meant alluded her.

Before she could question it however he stopped at a closed door, A rarity amongst the open ones spread about the walls of the house. He turned around and looked at them with a serious expression.

"Alright then, This is it." He started as he looked down at the both of them

"Please, When you go in try to be gentle when speaking with her. Don't try to overwhelm her or make any sudden noises.. She's not in the best mental state right now." He said quietly, Nigh-whisper as he waited for their answer.

"Understood." They both said in unison.

Mr. Kanroji nodded before turning back to the door.

Raising a single fist he lightly knocked at the paper shoji door. He smiled a best as he could as he spoke.

"Pumpkin? Are you awake..?" He called out.

…

There was no answer.

Iguro shifted around uncomfortably in his stance. Mitsuri Kanroji, The woman he loved and cared for.. She wasn't anything like this. He knew her well. He knew she loved to eat, He knew the way her lip quirked when she was confused and he certainly knew she was a light sleeper.

Anything could wake her. A sneeze or the drop of a pin, Anything at all. And it was certain that she would definetly wake at the light knock on her door. For her not to answer was concerning at best. Mr. Kanroji tried once more.

"Your friends from work are here to see you.. It's about a few weeks ago.." He called out once more though this time you could hear the audible shake in his speech.

…

"Come in.."

A weak voice called out from behind the door, It was so quiet that you could barely hear it. Both Shinobu and Iguro took a glance at each other before Mr. Kanroji grabbed onto the handle and slowly slid the door open.

It was dark. That was the first thought that entered their heads as they finally saw the inside to the room, Their sole source of vision being the new light from the other side flooding in only a crack to reveal only the bare shapes of furniture inside.

"I'll leave you two to it.." Mr. Kanroji whispered as he stood behind the open door, Nodding towards the room.

"Thank you.." Shinobu replied lowly as she took the first few steps in, Iguro following closely behind as she slowly entered the abyss that was Mitsuri's room.

From what they could make out, It looked more like a guest room than it did an actual room. The source of light was the window which was meant to be open, Instead it was locked and bolted shut tight leaving their environment hard to navigate.

CLANK!

Iguro's foot hit against something on the floor, Looking down he gagged slightly.

It was a small plate of food. It looked to be a normal meal consisting of pork cutlets and a side of omurice. Though on closer inspection Iguro spied the signs of mould starting to gather up on the meat from most likely a day or two, It hadn't been touched at all.

Iguro swallowed down his bubbling concerns and tried to ignore the smell as he stepped around it.

Both Shinobu and Iguro moved towards the centrepiece of the room of which being a large futon. Growing closer they could see the shapes of several duvets and pillows scattered amongst it, Reminiscent of a crows nest from the built up barrier around the lump poking out from under one of the duvets.

Shinobu kept up her smile, Though as she moved it started to look more strained and forced like one you'd see on an advertisement or billboard.

They finally reached the futon. Both Shinobu and Iguro shuffled around the side, Avoiding scattered clothes and stray furniture as they tried to get a better look.

They could barely see anything at all, Both from the lack of light and the duvet covering the girl below it. The only thing they could make out was only the upper half of her face sticking out from under it, Lime irises staring up at both of them.

Iguro bit his tongue. He backed up a bit as his hands reached out for the window-shutters. Eyes not taken off of Mitsuri's as he opened it up, Letting the late-morning light fill the dark void of the room.

Once the sunlight bounced off the walls of the room, Shinobu's smile quickly switched down to a frown while Iguro's shoulders tensed up.

The room was much more of a mess than first thought to be. The odd scattered clothing or two turned out to be more like piles.

Uneaten meals more rotten than before were also placed about, Some on furniture, Some on the floor.

But what really put off the two was the girl they called a friend, Lying curled up in a fetal position within the bedding.

Now that the light hit her face she flinched back from the sudden exposure, Eyes clenching closed to prevent the sudden light hitting her pupils flood in. Both of them noticed the swollen red under her eyes and her stuffy nose, To which she sniffled lightly every so often.

"Mitsuri-chan.." Shinobu mumbled, Her face a practiced sympathy as she took another step forward towards the futon. She stopped however when the sudden movement of Mitsuri cut her off, Mitsuri hauling herself out from under the covers and up into a sitting position

"I.. Sorry about that.. Comfortable position and all.." Mitsuri giggled lightly. Yet the sound never quite reached her bloodshot eyes.

Coupled with the greasy tangle that was her hair and the rather shaky smile she held it was obvious to see her true self in that moment. Iguro took his turn to take a step forward.

"Mitsuri-san.. I.." He felt the words caught on his tongue once he looked down upon the painful expression of the girl in front of him. Despite lying in bed it looked like she hadn't slept for days, Weeks even.

"Y-You're here about a few weeks ago right? Were you able to look at the ruins..? F-Find anything?" Mitsuri's voice shook more than her ear to ear smile, It wasn't liked Shinobu's perfectly perfected one. No, It was instead like an unknowingly widowed wife in the ER room lobby, Waiting in ignorant bliss for what she assumed was just a cut.

Both Iguro and Shinobu shared another glance at one and other. Both having a silent conversation between the two before Shinobu turned her head back around to face Mitsuri.

"Well.. We were able to get a report back from the ruins of the shrine.." Shinobu started. Reaching within her butterfly haori she pulled out a small piece of folded paper.

Starting to unfold it she peered down and started to read.

"Lets see here.. There were more injuries than casualties.. Seventy two severely injured and thirty four deaths. Majority of the casualties being Kakushi and Lower ranked slayers.." Shinobu read out, Eyes scanning down the list.

Mitsuri slowly nodded.

"T-That's unfortunate.. I hope their families are doing okay.." Mitsuri replied softly, The first glint of genuine concern showing from behind her eyes.

"But.. Erm.." She started again.

Shinobu nodded, Sad smile painted. Mitsuri didn't have to finish her words for Shinobu to know what she meant.

"Yes.. About [F/N] and Fujimori.." The mention of the names caught Mitsuri's attention immediately, Her head perking up to give her undying regard as the glint in her eyes burned back up.

Shinobu's nose twitched, Body stiffening ever so slightly.

"..We weren't able to recover any bodies.."

The light in Mitsuri's irises started to grow, Yet it wasn't from the hope or finality of the news. Instead it was the reflection off the water starting to grow at the rims of her eyes.

Shinobu took in a deep breath and continued.

"The only trace was of Fujimori.. Which was a pool of blood located near the back of the shrine." Shinobu shook her head, Trying not to focus on Mitsuri as she continued.

"Our leading theory is that.. Well.. Fujimori was most likely eaten by the demon in question.. There was nothing left of him.." Shinobu whispered, Yet within the confines of the room it sounded like an reverberated scream to Mitsuri's ears.

And that's what broke the dam.

Mitsuri let out a quiet cry, Her shaky smile still spread wide across her face as the tears in her eyes flooded over. Rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto her lap as choked noises escaped her hoarse throat.

"Mitsuri-san-!"

Iguro instantly went into action at the first sound of her cries, He quickly moved over to her side, Sitting down next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder. Which was quickly dismissed by Mitsuri.

"D-Don't touch me.. Just, Please.. N-Not now.." Mitsuri wept. Iguro quickly obliged, Moving away from her on the bed as she planted her face into her palms. Shinobu looked on as she put the paper away, Eyes filled with pity.

"I.. I-I can't believe this.. I.. Why didn't I recognise the signs.. I.. D-Doesn't she remember our promise..?" She whispered. Her nails digging into her skin as she looked through the cracks of her fingers, Eyes staring off into the distance of the floor.

"She..? What do you mean by signs..?" Iguro asked lightly.

Mitsuri withdrew her face from her hands to look up at Obanai. Her eyes meeting the mismatch of his with a disbelieving gaze, Like his tongue spoke of heresy to her very own religion.

Her pained voice spoke out once again.

"F-Fujimori.. [F/N].. They.. They're the same person.. And I.." Mitsuri whispered.

Iguro's eyes widened to that of circles, He shook his head adamantly and responded quick to her.

"No.. That's impossible. Fujimori and [F/N] look completely different, How could they be the same?" Iguro asked. His soft voice was still present yet there was an edge to it, A sharp confusion and bafflement at her words.

Mitsuri didn't listen to him, It was like he wasn't even there.

"I-I knew it was there.. I really did but I just.. I-I just ignored them.. If I had tried just a little harder.. I-If I just.." Mitsuri's voice seemed to break down into children's babble, Ranting off under her breath about this and that Iguro just couldn't understand.

He took a step closer.

"Mitsuri.. Please, Tell me what you mean.." Iguro asked softly. He lowered down onto a single knee to match her eye level, Pleading silently with her to tell him.

Mitsuri mumbled something so quiet, So incomprehensible that neither Iguro nor Shinobu could hear.

"What did you say..?"

Mitsuri's lip quivered. Bloodshot eyes staring back at him with that disfigured smile still on her face. Her voice only turning up a single notch as they were finally able to make out what she said.

"[F/N].. S-She killed herself."

Shinobu's frown sharpened into a tight-lipped grimace. Iguro's brows furrowed, His bandaged mask concealing his parted lips, Information still processing in his mind.

"I-If I just tried a little harder.. If I just made sure she was okay, Said hello or just.. Just ask her what was wrong.. S-She would've still been here with me.. I.. I did this.. I-I shouldn't of let go of her hand, I shouldn't of let go.."

Mitsuri's gaze was Far-off as she stared back into the vivid face of [F/N] appearing in her mind. The blank eyes so dull like she was nothing more than a caricature of her true self, The tried and true smile, The angle of her nose and the dimensions of her face.

All of it she tried so hard to cling onto. Grasping desperately at the memory, Begging with whatever god was up there. Pleading with whatever was listening that she wouldn't forget her face.

Yet as she continued to imagine her face, It faded further and further away from her grasp. Already blurring into a distant memory along with the warmth of her hand drifting away from her palms.

Iguro looked back at her. His heart felt like it was twisting and turning inside him, Hurting at the sight of the woman he held so close to it.

The new information felt so unsolved in his mind, He doubted it. Yet the raw grief that was coming from Mitsuri in front of him made it seem so real. Yet, He needed to question it once more.

Though before he could, He felt a small tap on his shoulder. Looking up only to come face to face with Shinobu.

"Iguro-san.. I think you should go wait outside." Shinobu said. Her voice suddenly serious, A side of which was barely shown through her friendly disguise.

He looked back at her and she stared back down at him with an unwavering gaze.

Iguro nodded slowly before getting up from his kneeling position. As he quietly moved out of the room he took only a single glance back at the two of them, All before opening the door and exiting the room.

As soon as the door slid shut Shinobu made her move, Head turning towards Mitsuri who looked up at her with the gaze of a wounded animal.

"Mitsuri-san.. These are massive claims, I don't mean to be insensitive but could you explain to me what happened? According to reports you were rather hysterical, Both from the handmaiden escorting you out and the various people you asked about [F/N]'s whereabouts." Shinobu asked. Voice levelled and calm, Her friendly self back up with a small smile to contrast her words.

Mitsuri didn't waste anytime for a shaky hand to extend out behind her towards her pillow, Reaching under it she carefully fished out a worn piece of paper. It was folded several times and looked rather worn from first sights.

Shinobu carefully plucked it out of her hands once it was offered. Carefully unfolding the flaps she held it in her hands and started to read.

Mitsuri sat there uncomfortably on the bed despite the mountain of pillows and blankets surrounding her. She had stopped crying at this point but by no means did that make her okay.

Her form was trembling as if she was in the middle of a hailing blizzard. She felt as if she wasn't in her body, Like she was just looking through the vision of someone else entirely while she was just a spectator within her own mind.

Shinobu's glassy eyes scanned over the paper, Carefully reading over every line with upmost delicacy as her gaze descended downwards.

She reached the bottom, The finality of the signature registering in her mind.

Shinobu was quiet.

But after a moment, She let out a single sigh.

"I see.. Well.. That's unfortunate.." Was all she said. She refolded up the paper in her hands and sitting it down on the windowsill.

Suddenly brought back into her own body, Mitsuri's head snapped over to look up at Shinobu. Her mouth going agape along with her eyes as she looked up in disbelief.

"..Is that all you have to say?" Mitsuri asked. [F/N]'s note, Her very last words written down onto a carefully made parchment. The story of her life, The words she could never express to anyone aloud yet scribed down with her entire heart and soul put onto this single letter.

And Shinobu just shook it off, Like it was absolutely nothing.

"Well.. It's an unfortunate turn of events, Taking one's life always is. Though I do have to admit I never saw it coming.." Shinobu said, That same tone of plain apathy dripped off every syllable and hit Mitsuri like acid as she stood up.

"H-How could you?" Mitsuri gawked. Her unstable footsteps numb from hours of not walking as she took a few steps toward Shinobu.

"[F/N] was your friend too.. You're the only other Hashira who ever knew about the truth.. She.. S-She trusted you.." Mitsuri exclaimed, Her previous cries starting to boil and hiss into a rising anger as her face twisted into an ugly expression.

Shinobu's shoulders raised as she looked back at her, The anger on Mitsuri being a completely foreign view. She wasn't even acting like herself anymore, [F/N] really meant that much to her..

"Yes.. She did." Shinobu agreed "I'm not trying to say-"

"You don't need to say anything, Y-You're making it clear enough!" Mitsuri butted in. Her arms raising to hug her self as she feverishly shook her head, Trying to keep herself calm.

"T-This isn't just my fault.. This is yours too. This is everyone's fault.." Mitsuri heaved. Her breathing picked up speed as her overgrown nails dug into her elbows, Backing up a bit as she did.

"Mitsuri-san.. You're not yourself right now, You're still in the grieving process. You don't mean what you're saying.." Shinobu said.

Mitsuri looked back up at her, Sheer rage burning inside her eyes like infernoes

"H-How many of the Hashira actually liked [F/N]..? How many of them insulted her every time she was late to a meeting? How many snide looks.. How many nasty comments, Shinobu? T-Tell me.. How many?" Mitsuri choked out. Shinobu could feel the strain as it did.

"I.. I don't kn-"

"How many?!" Mitsuri yelled, Her voice shaking the very walls of the room she was in. Quickly turning away from Shinobu, Her hands grasped both sides of her head catching strands of messy hair in-between them.

"[F/N] never harboured any true resentment towards anyone! S-She may not of been on time or handled her duties well but she cared for every last one of us, A-And the only thing she got in return was scorn.." Mitsuri at this point broke down into strangled sobs. She hugged herself tighter as Shinobu could only watch her.

"G-Get out.. Y-You did this, We both did.. But.. Y-You don't even care at all…" Mitsuri ordered. Turning her back on Shinobu as she tried to reach out a hand to her.

"Mitsu-"

"GET OUT!" Mitsuri screamed, Turning back to Shinobu with a high-pitched wail as it faded back into soft cries. Mitsuri fell back onto her bed, Pulling her knees up to her chest and pressing her face into them.

Shinobu didn't need to be told twice. She turned her back and walked away towards the door.

However she stopped once her hand gripped onto the handle.

"Mitsuri-san.. Just for the record, I may not show it but I do care for [F/N].. She really was my friend and trusted comrade. I don't mean to be indifferent.. I am not at all.. I.. I really will miss her a lot. Me and the rest of the Hashira may not have favoured her at points, But she was still apart of our ranks and was our comrade.. We.. We all grieve in our own ways.. And I promise you.. One day, We will get vengeance on the demon who did this.. We'll avenge her, I promise you."

That was all Shinobu said. Mitsuri lifted her head from her shins but she couldn't see Shinobu's expression. Her back to hers, Mitsuri could only see her high shoulders shake and the grip on the sliding door tighten.

But it faded almost immediately. Shinobu slid the door open and stepped out.

Closing it over and walking away.

☆♡☆

Heavy yet light footsteps hit the rickety wood in quick succession, Each step taking no time to waste as [F/N] kept running faster and faster along the spiderweb docks.

[F/N] had to plan her movements in advance, The dock was hard to navigate with branches ending at random and others looping straight back around in the opposite direction. If she wasn't careful she could be thrown overboard at any moment, And she didn't want to find out whether the bioluminescent water was safe or not.

It felt like she had been running for hours, The infinite sky showing no sign of an end or exit in sight. But [F/N] knew it had to of only been half an hour or so, Otherwise she would of already collapsed.

Kokushibo was nowhere to be seen. Once [F/N] had taken off running she thought he would be dead on her tail, Chasing her down for even daring to leave whatever he had planned for her.

"My name is Kokushibo.. I hold the highest rank within the twelve moons, Sitting at upperrank one.. Though.. You should be recognising me as Michikatsu Tsugikuni.. Your older brother.."

Was he delusional? Out of his mind? Or could he be manipulating her with some so-crazy-it-works method. Michikatsu Tsugikuni, The name meant absolutely nothing at all. Her older brother he called himself, There was simply no way in hell that could of been true.

He was a centuries old demon, Whatever parents gave birth to him would of died a good long while ago. It was impossible that they could've been related but..

"Impossible, Yes.. I thought the same thing once I saw you again.. You died near enough five hundred years ago yet there you were.. Bleeding out within the rubble of your desecrated shrine.."

Maybe, Just maybe she shared some resemblance to the sister he had as a human. And maybe she shared the same first name as she did. And when he saw said resemblance, Somehow in his mind he had decided that they were the same person and then decided to spare and kidnap her away to this cold hell.

Even then that was baffling on its own.

[F/N] had saw from first hand experience how a demon would rip apart its own siblings, Parents or children just for another meal. Demon's had no sentimental attachment to much of anything, Especially not people.

So why? Why would he do this, Kidnap her away and try to feign an act of familiarity with her? Demons don't do that, They don't think that way. [F/N] swallowed back a lump in her throat.

How much did his sister mean to him? Was she really that important that he would still hold affection towards her?

But either way he wasn't anywhere at all.

No noises, Glimpses or auras. Nothing.

She had no time to dwell on it, She chided herself for getting distracted over a demon. Run now think later. The prospect of escaping whatever pocket dimension she had been siphoned to was vivid in her mind, A yearning feeling brought back to the primal desire for survival as she kept going and going.

Her abdomen hurt too, Every time she moved it felt like a needle jabbing into her side. She tried her best to ignore the pain however, She couldn't let it stop her now, Not since she got this far.

But then it hit her.

Why was she trying so hard to escape?

Her sprint faltered only a little as the thought crossed through her mind. Her lip upturned. Why was she trying so hard?

[F/N] wanted to die. She wanted to find an end for months, To get it over and done with and get out of everyone's way. To stop being such a stain on the Hashira and a burden on the corps. She had no use, No worth or redeemable qualities.

She may of killed a thousand of their kind, She may of been given the title of being the strongest Hashira but that name weighed down on her shoulders like steel blocks.

It wasn't a title, It was an expectation.

And [F/N] couldn't live up to it, She didn't even want to live at all. So why was she running? Why didn't she throw herself into the docks or go back to slaughterhouse behind her? Why was her body so insistent on continuing?

Because.. Because.. She wanted to die, Not be tortured. That's the reason. If she was here then it was obvious she was wanted alive, If she did try to throw herself off then whose to say Kokushibo wouldn't be watching her right now and prevent her from doing so?

If she was here he might be wanting information, The location of the Ubuyashiki estate. This entire 'dead little sister' thing was just a manipulation tactic to get it out of her! And once he realised she wasn't falling for it he'd resort to more violent methods.

Yes, That's the reason.

Turning around another dock and searching for a path she stared out into the open distance of a void. Her heart burned, There had to be an escape. She was so tired, She felt like she was going to collapse any second.

And that's when she saw it.

In the distance, Staring off into the vastness of the void she could make out a vague shape settled amongst the darkness.

Her eyes sparked up, Lit aflame as she spied her saving grace, The light at the end of the tunnel. Something had finally changed after running for so long.

Her pace picked up along with her breathing, Her breaths turning into light wheezes under her normal rhythm as she took far strides.

Sweat beads dripped down from her brow and stained her jinbei, Everything burned. Muscles ached but she kept moving forwards, Kept going faster and faster towards the building in the distance, Getting closer and closer.

Keep going, Almost there.. I can do this- I can escap-!

[F/N] stopped in her tracks.

Her sprint jittered down until she was completely still, Fixed on place to the dock as she stared up towards the building, One now looming over her like a guillotine.

It.. It was her shrine.

Towering over her was the behind of the shrine, The other side from which she came from. The walls, tiles, Wooden frames and the closed shut windows. Her eyes scanned over it in disbelief, The realisation crashing into her.

She had done a full circle, She had just came back from the way she came.

T-This can't be true.. How could this be-!

[F/N] felt her heart fall into her stomach along with her knee's collapsing to the ground, Finally giving out from exhaustion as her eyes were still locked on the shrine.

Her knees hit the wooden docks, Splinters digging into her bare shins as she felt all hope leave her body. She had been running for so long, The docks didn't loop or go in a circle, If it did she would of known. But how was she back here? How?

Heart drumming faster in her chest her head felt light and airy as if she was thousands of feet in the air. Nausea creeping up her throat and unsettling her stomach even more than it already was. As she felt herself fade, She had only one thought.

How.. How is this fair?

☆♡☆

Kokushibo walked slowly down the wooden step-way of the shrine it surrounded.

Taking a few careful steps down the stairway he felt the weight of it depress under him, Reaching the bottom he peered over from the corner he stood next to.

He watched the body of his younger sister collapse onto the dock, Her chest raising and lowering rapidly as if she was starved of air. Her hair was a mess along with her clothing and general appearance.

It was nothing he didn't expect however. He knew she would tire herself out eventually, Run until she couldn't and fall down onto the ground. He knew it would happen, And he couldn't help but feel a sense of catharsis out of it.

He stalked up towards her, All until he was staring down at her defeated form in front of him. Kneeling down with her neck exposed, Easily cut and easy to wring at any given moment.

In any other scenario this would of been a sort of guilty pleasure, The way life was held within his hands felt so electrifying. He never took time on making people grovel before him, He never saw the need to.

He was after strength, To stay eternally strong forever. Not to make insignificant and weak human beings bow down to him.

But he couldn't deny the way he dictated human life with the edge of his blade felt great. And it tasted even better once he bit into their throats, Tearing out their jugular giving them no time to scream as the sweet nectar of their blood hit his tongue.

It was empowering. But, It was different in this scenario.

He didn't feel any sense of power over the girl in front of him, Not the way he usually would anyways. As he looked over her broken form the only thing that he felt was.. Pity.

"Are you done now..? Have you tired yourself out..?" Kokushibo asked in that usual monotone voice. He sounded as if he didn't care, As if his sister lying stray on the dock meant absolutely nothing to him. But he knew that wasn't the case.

[F/N] didn't answer, It seemed as if she had fainted.

Again, It was predictable. She had just woken up after sustaining injury and had used all her energy to try and run away, Only to collapse right back at the place she had tried to escape from.

Kokushibo gritted his teeth slightly. This wasn't how he thought this was going to go.

He assumed that she remembered him. Throughout the time he had taken her, Cared for her wound and nursed her back to health he had heard murmurs from within her sleep. Places, Memories and names only she should of known was what she mumbled in her unconscious state.

He assumed that as soon as she had awoken she would remember him, Feel just as elated as he was at their reunion.

But now he knew that wasn't the case, And if he was being honest? It made him angry.

Kokushibo kneeled down. Reaching his arms out he scooped up her limp body into his arms to settle her within them.

He got up and examined her face, Her eyes and her hair. Every angle and dimension of her face he surveyed left and right. This was her, Everything just lined up too perfectly not to be.

Same name, Same face and Haori. Not to mention that she spoke his name once.

Kokushibo held onto her tighter as he started to walk away with her in his arms. He moved up the stairway careful not to drop her. He moved quickly yet steadily towards the entrance of the shrine.

Entering the building and shutting the door behind him with his foot and made his way up to the second floor where her bedroom was located.

Once he got there he slid open the shoji door, Letting the aquamarine flood the shadows of her room as he walked towards her futon.

Setting her down onto the mattress and tucking her in the duvet with the utmost care, He looked at her once more.

Kokushibo was angry. He truly was livid. The mere fact that she didn't even remember him angered him, Even more so once she called him a monster. He loathed the way he felt his heart wretch in that moment.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to hate her. A part of him wanted to dispose of her, To get rid of her entirely. She was a weakness, Something Kokushibo just could not afford.

But the much larger, Louder part of him detested this with all he had. As the thought of killing her entered his mind he felt disgusted, Horrified at the mere imagining of her being harmed.

She was the only person who ever loved him more than Yorichii. The one person who saw him for himself instead of his brother, She admired him. She loved him. How could he bring himself to hurt her? Kokushibo took in a deep breath, The anger kept at bay as he smiled lightly at her unconscious state.

Even if she didn't remember him, That doesn't mean she won't in due time. The pieces of the puzzle were already there, They were just waiting to be solved is all. Even if she had some 'new life' or whatever may have happened to her. Maybe.. No.. It didn't matter, She was here. That's what mattered.

He breathed out once more. 'Her new life', It felt so wrong as he thought about it. Kokushibo found her as a Hashira of all things, One he had struck down as a man like a god to a heretic.

Gods, He had questions. He had so many questions.

How was she here back with him? How did she become an entirely different person while fighting him? Where did she learn or how would he get her to remember him? Hundreds of questions rushed through his head. Possibilities and chances.

He tucked a small strand of hair behind her ear. He had many questions, And he'll get answers eventually when she was awake.

His little sister was finally brought back to him. The one who died in his arms and the one he would never let go of again. She'll learn to accept her fate here, Understand she has nowhere to run. She'll understand her place was here with him, Her big brother.

He'd crush whatever rebellious phase she was going through, Whatever disobedient little chapter of life she was going through right now. Insulting him, Running away..

He breathed out, Trying to keep away the bloodlust at the thought of her escaping.

She was safe now, And that's all that matters.

Next Chapter

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 24]

And it's the last thing he would have wanted her to do :(

Once again, want to draw your attention to the fact that Julith doesn't seem to really care about Joris. She just set him and Bakara free to get hit by lasers and once he told her "I will never allow this to happen" she stopped paying attention.

Like, did her love hinge on the condition he didn't disagree with her or what? I am insane about her various behaviours and weird way of loving (AKA she doesn't really love anyone besides Jahash, and she might not really love Joris that much either. because she's like. known him for a day and 80% of it he called her cringe(because she's cringe))

Man, I know ankama didn't think about this all so deeply. They were like "cool lasers go pew pew pew". But I'm the CEO of caring too much. So I will literally do just that.

Anyway, her parenting style (setting him loose under some deadly lasers) reminds me of Kerubim, except she's doing this on purpose. yaay.

Joris has GOT to be in a literal state of shock and dissociation by now. Not even years of therapy will fix this.

By now he's seen roughly 1000 and 6 people die.

I've seen headcanons of him keeping his mother's cape. And while imagining Joris with a cool cape is nice and all, I really doubt he Would Fucking Do That.

Not because you can get it as a cosmetic item in Dofus MMO (you can, but it's dubiously canon imo). I just think he fucking hates her and wouldn't want that thang in his house.

It's just him VS. her now.

There's a heaviness to this. All of them (save for maybe Lilotte) have the knowledge that whoever hits the Dofus will get exploded together with them. But with the rush of adrenaline, inexperience of everyone involved (only warriors actively think "oh I am going to DIE for real this time"), and the "if we don't act now 1000 people will die" of this situation, I really doubt either of them thought too hard about it all.

But I think that once you're all alone with that thought - and it's obvious that it's you, who will have to do it, it sinks in a little better.

He looks so distraught...

Inside me are two wolves: one of them is saying, "Joris is so brave yet so scared. He knows he will probably not survive this, and he's 10, and, and--" and the other says "JORIS JURGEN SUICIDAL HEROISM MOMENT NUMERO UNO!!!!!"

Both of them are equally insane.

I NEED these frames injected into my bloodstream.

One counterpoint I can think to why Julith is so worried about this despite setting him free to roam under the deadly lasers, is that, as the guardian of the Ebony Dofus, she could simply go "Not that one. let that one live. No, you can kill the blonde that looks like my husband, I don't give a shit about her. But the weird little boy? Don't kill him."

But this is just me trying to fix Ankama's fucky-wuckies with my imagination.

It's jojover. Just completely and irreparably jojover.

This scene always gives me chills, more so than any other insanely evil interaction between Joris and Julith.

There are a lot of ways this scene gets me (imagine me putting on the tinfoil hat from my Aux Tresors kerulou days. I am about to be that insane): The way she envelops him stops any and all movement of him and his Dofus completely, and wipes out all the sound and momentum.

He is completely helpless against how easily she stopped him and took his only way to save everyone from him.

As he falls to the ground, there's a little sense of dreaminess to it — the cape seems far bigger than it should be, the time before he hits the floor seems longer than it should be — and make no mistake, it is on purpose. Seconds before he falls we are shown the floor, and it seems vaguely closer to us at the first glance, than the distance he falls. It's unexpected, it's destabilizing.

It's like he is dissociating, from the horror of not being able to do this.

It's like a nightmare.

And after doing this irreparable evil, and taking his one way of stopping this evil, she looks at him as if he is a tiny, stupid little thing, that doesn't know what it is doing.

As if it's not her fault that his only choice is doing something that will kill him, just to stop her.

And listen. There's guilt too. Because Joris is the one who allowed her to get the Ebony Dofus back. If he survives this and nobody else does, do you think he could ever forgive himself?

She's making him responsible for this.

They will never get to speak, but Jahash is happy, with what Joris has tried to do.

...Unlike Julith, who was reminded of Jahash by Joris's blue eyes, — I bet Jahash thinks they're similar to Bakara's.

There are so many emotions here. He will never get to speak to this man. This man is happy abotu what Joris has done. This man is the reason Joris's life is utterly ruined.

Is Jahash's smile an "I'm sorry that you have to do this, and see this," or "I'm proud of you," or "I wish things were different," or a mixture of all of them?

Joris will never get to know.

He saw something in her that other people didn't see.

She never really wanted to be a "butcher". Even if she could not overpower that destiny, — after Bonta took away her entire family and future, may I add, — the fact that she tried to begin with is saying a lot.

The look he gives her is something between "please don't prove me wrong" and "this isn't you".

I think she realizes now that there is no future where she, Jahash, and Joris are together and happy.

Four lives, in three generations of this family, ruined and uprooted and destroyed, because of some petty politics that were happening behind their backs.

I truly despise Bonta.

It's quiet. The only sound is his own heartbeat. Nothing seems quite real. He can barely believe that maybe she will stop this madness herself.

There is only one kind of reunion that they may have.

No matter how much she wanted a happier ending.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

The Edge

I know we all know I write whump and that I put my trigger warnings in the tags, but this one might hit pretty close to home so you're also getting a trigger warning before the snippet. TW: Suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide. I wrote this one as a way to process some stuff I'm going through so it might be more dark and angsty than what you're used to seeing from me.

-------

Hero heard the sound of Villain’s footsteps across the rooftop. They barely turned their head when the criminal sat down next to them, their feet dangling over the edge. They had met many times here before, but unlike those other times, an unsettling silence hung in the air.

“So…” Villain started.

“So.” Hero finished.

“You weren’t yourself this afternoon,” Villain said, “I mean, I know I’m pretty skilled, but you barely managed to dodge any of my attacks. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to get hit.”

Villain’s tone was light, but Hero could hear the concern laced underneath. When they didn’t speak, Villain’s eyes widened in realization.

“You were trying to get hit,” they said, “…why?”

Hero still didn’t speak. They stared at the cars passing by on the street below. They thought about how easy it would be to just hop off the ledge and let one ram into them. It’s not like they had flight powers, so everyone would think it was an accident… no one would blame themselves… well, Villain might for not catching them, but they’d get over it soon enough.

Villain cupped Hero’s face and turned their head, forcing them to look in their eyes. Hero blinked dully at them.

“Hero, are you…okay?”

That sent them over the edge. The tears welled up in their eyes, then started to fall. It had been so long since they were able to cry, it was kind of nice to feel the tears stain their cheeks. Once they started though, they couldn’t stop, despite their attempts to do so. The silent tears turned to quiet cries, which turned to sobs, which turned to loud wails that surely everyone in the vicinity could hear.

Hero felt Villain pull them into their chest and rub their hand up and down their back.

“Shhh,” they soothed, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve noticed sooner.”

Hero continued to sob for several minutes. Every now and then, they’d go silent for a moment, but then the screams would start right back up. After what felt like forever, their cries died down to the occasional hiccup and sniffle.

“How long have you been feeling this way?” Villain asked softly.

“Three weeks,” Hero whispered.

Villain cursed quietly.

“I’m going to help you,” they said, “come with me.”

“No one can help me.”

“I can,” Villain said, “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I’m tired, Villain,” Hero said, “I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of failing, I’m tired of being here. I don’t want to be here.”

Hero peeked out from Villain’s chest at the city below. They could make it stop… right now. All they had to do was-

Hero couldn’t move. Villain had a firm grip on them.

“I can’t let you do that,” they said sadly.

Hero had leaned over the edge of the rooftop; Villain’s hold was the only thing keeping them from plummeting to their death. They hadn’t even realized they had tried to move.

“What are you going to do?” Hero asked numbly.

“I said I’m going to help you,” Villain replied, “I’m going to take you back to my base and I’m going to get you someone to talk to.”

“Not the psych ward,” Hero said quickly.

“No, not the psych ward,” Villain agreed, “but you shouldn’t be left alone right now. Come on.”

Villain helped Hero to their feet. Hero felt dizzy, exhausted, and numb. They lifted them into a bridal carry; Hero didn’t resist. They flew from the rooftop back to their base, while Hero closed their eyes, their head resting against Villain’s chest.

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[thedragonqueen1998]

Today at work i got insanly inspired to write and once i got off work, i immidiently went on my phone to type it out. XD I just finished a 3 hour long writing ses(had a 15 minute food break in the middle). ^^ Probably just gonna forever gonna be a wip thing, but it was fun and i'm kinda proud of it. Despite it being rough in some parts, mostly because i wanted to rush to the 2nd half and i didn't wanna get stuck, i'm happy to share it. ^^

It's a kinda long, so i'm gonna add a Read more line to not fill your dash with text. Also, first time trying formatting out! XD

So, originally this post was just gonna be a "i actually wrote something! Look!" thing, just showing of some work i did, but after writing the reason why i wrote a line a certain way, it went into something very sad and kinda dark, so if you don't wanna read about death, a light mention of suicidal thought and grief... just stop after What even is my life.

Idk why i wrote it, but it took alot of effort and it feels... important to me, i guess. Part of processing and such. So, yeah. Read at your discretion. Thank you for your time. 💜

Ezio had many regrets in his long life. Not being there when his father and brothers were arrested. Of not being there more for his sister and mother. Of not trying to be together with Cristina. Not being able to save her. Or being able to save Uncle Mario and Monteriggioni. But biggest of all, not having spent more time with his family before the execution.

He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted. But unlike so many others, Ezio could take those regrets and change them. Thanks to Desmond.

When he walked into the Library, he thought he might get an answer or two in return for many more. He truly didn't expect that calling out Desmonds name while the Apple bathed the walls in gold would result in it being answered by the being himself.

The being looked like a man, clad in a white light, eminating from a strange device under his right arm. His face looked like an exact replica of Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad's face, though his build was closer to his. Broad shoulders hidden underneath a strange hooded white doublet and long legs wearing strange tight fitted pants made from a material he did not recognise. Even the scar was the same as his! Was Ezio made in the image of the one he was the Prophet for? Was Altaïr the herald? All questions Ezio wondered, but not knowing if Desmond was like Minerva or not, he dared not waste any questions if the beings patient was thin.

But first: "Are you Desmond?" He had to know, have it confirmed, even if the being appeared after the name was called.

"Ezio? Is this the Library? Am i seriously bleeding while dying!?" Desmond was looking around at the empty tomb, before his eyes returned upon Ezio.

"Yes, this is Altaïr's library. You are bleeding? I do not see any blood and you are dying!? Is there anything i can do to help you? Please, my lord. Tell me what i need to do to save you." Ezio was desperate to know his purpose and if all his life lead to this moment, where he could save Desmonds life, he would fulfill it.

"There's nothing you can do. I am dying semi willingly and even if this is some Animus infused death hallucination, it is nice having my last moments with you, even if your not really here. I am so sorry i couldn't answer any of your questions or try to save you from losing everything. You never deserved any of it. In the end it didn't really even matter. I am sorry you wasted your time chasing riddles and ghosts." He looked so grieve struck while saying it and the look Desmond had while gazing down onto Ezio could only be described as lovingly.

"What do you mean? Could you have saved my uncle!? My father and brothers!? Why didn't you if you do not think i deserved it! I have served the Brotherhood almost my entire life, sacrificed so much trying to find out what Minerva meant and now your telling me that it was all for nothing!? If you think i wasted my time then give it back!"

Desmonds eye's widen before softly smiling and saying: "Your right, you wasted your time and sacrificed too much for nothing. Let's change that."

Before Ezio knew it, the world went white and he knew nothing more.

—————

When Ezio awoke, it was to a bed he hadn't seen in almost 40 years. His childhood bed and his room. He couldn't believe it. He was given a second chance. To live his life. To right wrongs. To save his family! To think going to the Library would result in this!

At the thought of the Library, Ezio suddenly remembered Sofia. To have forgotten her and even abandoned her without a second thought left Ezio feeling guilty. Would she wait outside the Library before realising he would never come back? Or because he is now in the past, a past where he intends to change the future, would she never meet him? Never exist? The thought of her hurt, but like so many others, Ezio knew that him being in her life would have risked hers. Even if she knew and accepted it, it is still better if she never got the chance to know him and inevitibly suffer because of it. Same with Cristina. Though he could now choose her, he knew that despite the many mistakes in his life, the Brotherhood was not one of them and his refusal to properly let her go killed her. Letting that life affect her once again was too cruel. It was for the better to just let her go.

Federico nudged him with his elbow. "Brother, what has you thinking so hard you look like you bit into something bitter?"

"Nothing much, just wondering what i should get." Ezio smiled and laughed. He was currently out with his family on a trip the market. The last time around, he had decided to sneak off to spend some time with a girl he didn't even remember the name of anymore instead of spending time with his loved ones, to his great shame and regret. This was the last thing his family had done together outside of dinners before the execution in 3 days. That he missed out on it was one of his biggest regrets, but Desmond let him change it.

That Ezio might never truly understand or know what or who Desmond is, how he watched him in the Vault or even what Minerva's people and the Pieces of Eden truly were will forever haunt him, but the trade to see his family again and to even be able to save them is a fair trade. He can go his life wondering these questions and maybe try to find them now that he will have more time, thanks to already knowing the Templars plans and who will be an enemy or ally.

He felt a finger poke him inbetween his eyebrows.

"There you go again Brother. Thinking too hard! Be careful or you might hurt yourself." Federico teased before yelping and then laughing when Ezio pushed him.

"Please don't start fighting now sons." Their father said before turning back to the stall owner to continue discussing what wares to buy and the prices.

"Sorry Father!" Ezio said before giving his brother a teasing look that promised this was not over.

Ezio remembered this day well enough. Not to remember the woman he decided to chase, but enough to know that when his family had been at the market a horse had run wild there and according to Claudia, nearly trampled her down in the confusion.

He was a bit sceptical to believe it was as close as she had made it out to be, but he knew horses much better now than he did before. After years of riding them to and from places in the chase for his targets, he knew that having one running towards you in a blind panic could scare anyone. Even though he knew to be wary of them and treat them with respecy during his original childhood, he didn't truly get how these gentle beings could be as scary as his sister had made the poor creature out to be.

According to his family, it had been a war horse, bloodied, running around in a blind panic, probably scared from a skirmish. Being chased by guards hadn't helped and eventually the guards got a good shot at it and put it down.

Ezio wanted to save his sister years of fearing horses, so he kept an eye and a ear out for any signs that the animal was on it's way.

There. A scream. Everyone stopped and looked around for the source. The source was still hidden by the crowds, but in the distance you could start seeing people moving away from something coming this way and the screams were getting closer.

Ezio breathed and slipped into his Second Sight, the Eagle Vision, as he now knew Altaïr had called it. Or more accuratly, Eagle Sense. With the years, his constant use and need for it had changed his Sight. It had become much stronger, letting him see farther, expanded his hearing, to let him hear his enemies heartbeat and even know what moves they were going to make. Even let him know where his enemies was going to go on a patrol route.

It truly was a gift and now he would use it to try and predict where the animal would go, as to lead his sister and family away from the danger. Then he saw it. The shine of something important. Something that glowed as strongly as the Apple of Eden had. The horse.

There was much about his Gift he could not explain. He had tried, but it is much like explaining sight to a blind person. Why things he didn't even know about could glow gold and lead him to the answer. Why allies glowed blue and enemies red, nor how he could tell friend from foe and now. His Sight told him, with the same intuition as telling friend from foe, that this horse was Desmond.

How is Desmond here? Why? Did he lie about dying? Or was certain death only a large chance that Desmond beat? Ezio supposed it did not matter. If he lets events play as they had before, Desmond would be struck down by an arrow within minutes. Oh, maybe Desmond had tried to prevent his father and brothers demise, but was struck down in the attempt? Though, why choose to do it as a rampaging horse? Either way, Desmond was clearly panicking, almost upon him now. If Ezio could not calm him down, his death was guaranteed.

But how? Ezio has just seconds now to plan a way to stop him before he is trampled down.

Then, he finally realises, that among the bright gold he shines, he also glowes blue. Such a deep colour which he has only seen in the greatest friends or closest family and he knows, Desmond would never harm him. The look of pure love on Desmonds face made more sense now.

So Ezio decides to not move and simple raise up his hands, as if to pet the horse.

"EZIO!"

————

Desmond was in pain. He knew that Juno lied about his death being quick and painless, but god, why did it have to hurt so much!? During his hallucination, it wasn't nearly so bad! And can't forget the weird nightmare he's having ontop of it. He's a goddamned horse on some battlefield. He was rearing up when the nightmare started, neighing as his rider was shot and killed by an arrow.

There's so much blood. The smell strikes fear in his heart. There's so much red. He slips into Eagle Vision and there's even more red. Not a spec of blue. A sword slides against the armor he is wearing and the screech of metal is too much. He bolts.

He needs to run. Away from the monsters with sharp sticks. Away from the smell of blood and death. Away from the shadows hiding hunters. They follow him. They chase him for a long time.

He is getting so tired.

He needs to get back to the barn. His owner would make everything alright. He would croon soft noises he did not understand, but the tone was soft and gentle. He would give him a treat while brushing him down after a hard days work.

He did ride him into scary battles he did not understand, but afterwards he would wash and groom him extra thoroughly, while feeding him the best apples, crooning more sounds in a happy tone. He would repeat one of the few sounds he understood, which meant "him" and "pay attention to me".

Dante.

But he wasn't on his back anymore and he didn't hear his voice. Just the loud, scary noises of more men in the shiny hard thing. They had the pointy sticks too and tried to take the things dangling from his mouth. Only his owner can touch that! Only he is to be trusted with them.

Running is getting harder, there is large, straight hills in the way and the path is narrower with many strangers in it.

There is still so much red. He can still smell the blood, feel it clotting his fur. Too much red!

Blue.

Suddenly there's blue in front of him. He knows blue means ally. Though why and how this person is blue confuses him. But he is Blue and running him over is not good, but why is he standing there!? Does he not see the red!? Smell it!? Does he not understand we need to run!?

"Desmond"

That single word pierces the fog of fear and wild panic that has flooded Desmonds mind. Ezio is in front of him, hand already gripping the reigns while the other rests on his muzzle.

"There we go Desmond, everything is alright."

Desmond still feels phantom threads of fear, but with Ezio's calming blue glow and his voice saying gentle reassurances, it feels far away.

Now with his mind fully human and not driven by horse instincts or memories, the question becomes: How and why the fuck is he a horse in 15th century Italy with Ezio!?

What even is his life.

————

So, a couple parts i'm stupidly happy about is the "He had love, but didn't cherish it. Didn't truly feel it and took it for granted." part. This, as you can probably tell was inspired by the famous quote "When I was a young man, I had liberty, but I did not see it. I had time, but I did not know it. And I had love, but I did not feel it."

I believe Ezio didn't fully understand liberty until he tried to live a peaceful life with Sofia and realised he would always fear Templars taking revenge on his family and time, because the knowledge that he would never see his children grow up to adults had never been a concern before he met Sofia. He probably thought he wouldn't have a family at all.

But love. Love he would understand what he missed. He would understand it just days after he lost his father and brothers. Those moments you missed out on. Of opportunities to spend time that you squandered away. Time you will never get back, because in real life we don't have time travel.

And now i understand it. Before the end of the last year, i was like Ezio before the loss. Before i lost my grandparents only a few weeks apart.

Those opportunities to spend time was rare and thankfully i took most of them, but i still squandered it away by not actually spending time with them. I just visited and hid away in my room, wasting the time by sitting on the phone.

I will forever regret that because ny memory is shit and besides a few childhood ones, i have no memories of them. I still remember their voices, they were pretty distinct thankfully, but how long until i forget that.

It hurts and as someone who is afraid of death and it's finality, such a reminder that time and love is finite is soulcrushing. It is only recently that i have truly started to think of my grandparents and i guess try to process the fact they are gone forever.

When we first got the news that my grandpa had died, i was even more glued to my phone, not wanting to acknowledge what was happening. I also didn't wanna sleep and only got some when i passed out from exhaustion. We even went to the doctor to get time of work and some sleep medication i didn't dare end up taking.

I even had thoughts of just taking all the pills and just sleeping, to get away from the pain forever. But i'm thankfully too much of a coward, so it just stayed thoughts. I'm doing much better now and as i mentioned, i think i'm starting to process the fact that they are gone.

So, yeah. This post went in a direction i didn't expect. But it feels important and maybe in a few years i can look back at this post and see a snapshot of who i was and reflect on who i am now. So, here's to the future me and anyone else who needs to hear it:

I hope things are going well and if they're not... well, things get better. They always do. You're loved and even if your loved ones are gone, they live on in you. You will carry that love with you, for the rest of your life. 💜

[theaspen]

summary : Jay seems to keep appearing in your alternate nightmares. He acts as your night in shining armor, always helping you in your sleep. But when you try to stop the nightmares altogether he doesn't like it.

Genre : Thriller, angst.

pairing : Jay x you

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of blood, death and suicide. If you are sensitive to these subjects please don't read!!

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

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Authors note: It's honestly SO embarrassing that I'm posting this now LMAOAOAOA.

Uhm. I'm sorry. I hope you guys enjoy and leave some nice comments or feedback or anything tbh. And send me an ask, or comment below to be added to the tag list.

____________________________________________

Are you sure?” My uncle asks sceptically.

“Yes I'm sure.” I tell him firmly. 

This is the 10th time he's asked me this question today alone. What's a therapist gonna do? Besides, I'm sick of him pretending to care. 

“Uncle, I'm not really sure why you're so insistent on this. Is it because the press is outside? They want to interview you?”

It's a sharp dig at him and I know it. He's never cared about his own brother, never visited.

He scowls at me, “Careful, might I have to remind you that it isn't your father that's taking care of you, putting you in the best room with the best doctors.”

I glare at him as he walks away from the room. Well atleast the pathetic nice act is gone. 

Kyungsoo enters my room soon again, throwing a careful glance at my uncle. He was a big shot after all. With his more than successful firm.

“You good?” He asks.

“Yeah, um I think I'll just go for a walk.” I tell him rather shortly.

“Sure.” He says quietly, probably assuming I had an argument.

But truth be told, I'm avoiding him. I'm getting attached to someone who's just tolerating me for their job. It's not his fault I know but I can't get attached to those who won't stay once I'm up and gone. 

My mind goes to Jay for a tiny second. Hm. Maybe I should talk to a therapist. The dreams stopped for two days and usually I would be overjoyed at the idea of not just one but two full nights rest.

But I woke up feeling uneasy, I made a promise to Jay, someone who exists only in my head. But I made a promise nevertheless. 

There are so many things I want to ask him, so many. 

Why do I have no dreams? Why is it that I only ever have a blackout or nightmares?

Why is he saving me? 

I know I shouldn't, but my curiosity has gotten the better of me. I look down at my fisted hands and open them. There are two sleeping pills, I stole it from a nurse's bag when she wasn't looking. 

Sleeping pills and I aren't the best of friends. Sure they help me not have a meltdown from not being able to sleep for almost 20 hours but they also give me the worst types of nightmares.   Which right now happens to be something that I need. 

“Goodnight.”Kyungsoo tries to smile at me.

I meekly smile back , eager to down the pills and meet the one person who actually wants me to stay.

_________________________________________

The pills go down my throat ten minutes later. The small light creates a shadow of me in front.  The shadows shift, turning and twisting and I watch fascinated as they give a performance for me. 

I'm not afraid, a part of my brain thinks. What are the shadows going to do? They've been with me forever. Taunting me, trying to manipulate me. I've never given into any of their tricks. I've never trusted them. 

But when I'm all alone now, in a tiny closet peeking out from the hole and watching the shadows linger my heart picks up its beat. 

They come and they disappear again and again. I look through the tiny peep the closet gives and realise soon as they go behind every nook and creek that they are looking for none other than me. 

 

My hands reach out to clasp my mouth shut. My body folds itself as small as it can possibly go. Will the shadows think to look here too?

I shut my eyes forcefully. My other senses heightened until I could feel everything around me. The musty smell of the closet, my fingernails digging into themselves.  My feet numb, paralyzed. 

My breathing becomes slower, my arms start to unclench. I think they're gone. I think I can get out now. Escape to a place where they can't catch me. 

Before I know it, before I can even pull my hands away from myself. There's a strange hiss that comes inches away from me. A hand grabs my ankle and pulls me hard enough that I don't have time to scream. 

My head bangs against the hard wooden doors as I'm being pulled away. The impact is so hard that I can only clutch my head and groan as the hands keep pulling me away, dragging me on the rough wooden floors.

The splinters catch on clothes and skin. My chin is bleeding, but I can't even stop. Can't even catch a hold of myself as I try to catch myself breathlessly.  

There's a sharp turn to the right, and that's when I know that the shadows aren't just pulling me along aimlessly , they have a destination in mind. 

My eyes scan around desperately trying to catch hold of something to stop. 

Just then, a hand- a solid, real and warm hand catches me. A sudden stop to the journey. 

I know who it is before I can even look up. I clasp my hands with his. The shadows aren't pleased, they hiss and linger around My ankles. 

But when his hand keeps tugging me in, the shadows start to dissolve, materialise into nothing, losing their power. 

Jay's hands pull me again, even when the shadows disappear, he doesn't let go and I don't either.

When I gain a little strength into my limbs I finally pull away from the embrace. I look into his eyes, they are wide and scared, maybe even more than mine.

“Thank yo-”

“Why didn't you come?? You made a promise and you leave me all alone here?!” Jay yells angrily.

I pull away completely.  I was happy to finally see him again, but seeing his bloodshot face. The look of absolute rage in his eyes makes me stop. Brings the familiar uneasy feeling back into my stomach. 

“I'm sorry.” I mumble.

Jay looks at my crestfallen face, and immediately his face softens. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you. I was just scared you left forever.” He says softly, “You're hurt a lot this time. Come here, let's clean you up.” 

He rips off a piece of his sleeves and starts dabbing it on my wounds.

His reassuring words don't chase away the moths in my stomach. 

“Jay..do you think I should see a therapist?”

Jay frowns at my words, “A therapist? What's that?” He asks curiously. 

“Umm. It's someone who helps you with your problems, like stress, anxiety…nightmares.”

Jay stiffens upon that. His hand paused on my chin. 

“But why…? I can save you. I save you every time.”

I shake my head,

“I can save you again, you won't even have to get hurt next time. Just trust me. That's all you need to do!”

I take his hands in mine, his eyes are trembling, 

“What happens when you can't?”

“..what”

“What happens when one day you can't save me? I can wake up, but what about you? What if something happens to you instead?” 

He shakes his head intently, “I don't care, I only exist because of you. If you're gone, then I'm alone again, I have no purpose.”

I stay silent at that, avoiding his eyes. 

The world around me seems to shift again, faster than it did before. 

“I think I'm waking up now.”

“Yeah.”

“Can't you…can't you appear in my dreams too? Not just nightmares?”

“I don't know.”

I can feel my resolve slipping at the sight of his tired face. He looks my age, but at this moment his face seems to have gone through a millenia worth of sadness. 

“I'll come back okay?” 

Jay just nodded. His fingers slip away from mine as he watches me disappear again. I never stay for long. He wonders whether it's because I can't or I don't want to. 

Jay fidgets with his fingers even after I'm gone. 

He thinks long and hard about how he could make me stay. Every time I've left, it's only because he saved me.

What happens when he makes me believe that she can't escape the nightmare anymore? 

________________________________________

Taglist : @sunjaylove @ryejigyu @keikeu

@excusemeimquirky @lollllllliiiiiiiiiiiipop

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for secretly following my then best friend home?

(tw alcohol abuse, probably suicidal tendencies)

I know this sounds really awful right away but bear with me. Also this is probably going to get long, sorry in advance

tl;dr I followed a guy i was friends with and had a crush on home after an argument, even after he asked me not to come to his house, bc i was worried he might hurt himself.

Last summer I (20f) moved to the US for college. I didn’t know anyone outside of college and overall I was mostly on my own which was getting a bit lonely tbh. So I was very glad when I met this guy (21m) at a party of one of my acquaintances. We got along right away and he ended up giving me his number. After that we continued talking regularly and also meeting up every now and then and overall it was a lot of fun.

At some point I started developing feelings for him but prepared myself to just wait it out and not tell him bc I knew that he liked having a very active sex life and felt like he probably wouldn’t be interested in something serious at that time.

After a few months however, he began to behave in some ways that made me pretty worried honestly. I had known that he liked to go out and party but I hadn’t known to what extent. Apparently he would get totally blackout drunk at least once a week, sometimes more than that and then he would text me or call me in the middle of the night but often I genuinely couldn’t understand what he was saying. Sometimes he would just call me like that at any time of day, crying, saying that I was his only real friend, the only person he felt safe talking to and so on. On the one hand I knew that that wasn’t healthy behaviour at all but on the other hand my crush on him kept getting worse bc who doesn’t like to feel needed.

On other occasions, he would just randomly do reckless and stupid things like one time we went to a museum and he started arguing with the guard over not being able to take any pictures and we almost got kicked out. Afterwards he laughed it off but honestly it made me feel pretty uneasy. (I didn’t tell any of my other friends about that btw, they only knew that I was seeing this guy but wasn’t dating him.)

He has told me some things about his childhood which I don’t want to share here bc he did tell me that confidentially and although this is anonymous I still don’t feel comfortable telling random people on tumblr about it. But it is severe enough for me to believe that his upbringing and the things he lived through definitely contributed to the issues that he has now. I can say that he didn’t have a great time at home bc he is bi and while homosexuality isn’t illegal in his country, it isn’t really accepted either. Also it’s generally expected that children, especially boys, dedicate their entire life to having a successful and lucrative career and then start a family and he wasn’t really in the right place to do either of that (and he didn’t want to).

He also has been facing a lot of problems and racism here bc he is a poc immigrant from a country that isn’t in good standing with the US. So while I don’t pretend I know what he’s feeling, I imagine that all of these things would affect him quite a lot.

Now I actually get to the incident that is the reason for me to send this (it rly did get long TT but I want to make everything as clear as possible).

A few weeks ago we were just hanging out, it was all pretty chill and we just sat down to eat and talk etc. It had been quite a difficult week for me, also college wise, and I felt like I really had to talk to him about him calling me at night and while I’m in class and all that. So I said as nicely as I could smth like “I don’t want to seem overbearing but have you ever thought about maybe seeing a therapist bc I don’t think what you do is healthy in the long run and I’m not a professional who can properly help you.” He immediately got really snappy and defensive, saying that he “couldn’t fucking afford a therapist and even if I could, all they do is squeeze the money out of you and they don’t give a fuck about your feelings.” I was pretty shocked tbh and responded by saying “well if you really think this badly about therapists you should clearly see one” which was probably too harsh of me but I just couldn’t help myself at that moment. He then said “oh yeah?? I’d rather die than tell any of my shit to a total stranger. But you’ve probably already told yours bc you’re all so fucking dependant on them anyway.” and then he stormed off. (Just to be clear, I don’t have a therapist bc I don’t have any issues that require one.)

I was really scared at that point bc I thought that he might do something to himself (he had said stuff like “I wish I just wasn’t here sometimes” before) so I started following him which I now think was extremely weird and creepy of me but I just didn’t think it through in that situation. He walked for about 10 minutes to a house which I assumed was where he lived (I had never been at his place before bc he always said he lived in a bad neighborhood and didn’t want me to come there) and I stood outside for like another 10 minutes thinking abt what to do bc I realized that this had been totally stupid, also it started to get dark and it really was a bad neighborhood. I ended i up calling him and telling him where I was and he let me in. He was pretty angry but mostly at the fact that I had put myself in such a dangerous situation and he let me spend the night at his place.

We actually got together not long after that and as of now, we’re dating. I know it’s not an ideal situation and probably not the most healthy one but I have been able to keep him from drinking himself into oblivion all the time bc we spend most evenings together now so I think that’s a good thing. I don’t know where things will go from here and I don’t have the illusion that i can “fix him” or anything but so far it’s been pretty good and I really do love him a lot so I just hope it will all turn out for the best. I just still feel guilty for lowkey (or actually highkey) stalking him when he explicitly asked me not to come to his house but it was out of genuine worry for him so idk if it makes me an asshole, I guess I’ll let tumblr decide that for me.

🌃🎀🍨 for finding later

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

Okay, so there's two things being discussed in here that I will try to answer separately.

The first is about Obi-Wan "lying" to Luke about the Darth Vader/Anakin distinction and implying that they're separate people. I tend to agree with you that Obi-Wan isn't doing this for his OWN sake, but is in fact doing it for Luke's because Luke ISN'T READY to hear the truth yet. Mark Hamill has said that he sort-of sees the moment on Bespin when Luke falls away from Vader as almost like a suicide in some respects. If you take that as your interpretation of what happens in that scene, then it's pretty clear that Obi-Wan wasn't wrong about Luke not being ready for this particular truth.

Even if you don't take that as your personal interpretation, I feel like assuming that Obi-Wan was separating Vader and Anakin for his OWN benefit is just a disingenuous reading of the text. Once the truth is out and Luke calls him on it, Obi-Wan has no issue discussing the topic more overtly. And Obi-Wan is incredibly calm when facing Vader in ANH, there's no obvious conflict in him during that sequence. He knows who he's facing, he knows what it means to him, and he's prepared to manage it. He's completely in balance, which is why he's able to just let himself go in the end. If Obi-Wan were truly incapable of handling the whole CONCEPT of Anakin being Vader, I feel like we'd have seen way more distress in him in this film and in this sequence, and we'd see him attempting to try to continue the practice when conversing about it with Luke in ROTJ.

What they have Obi-Wan do in the Kenobi show is actually the OPPOSITE of what everyone assumes is happening. Obi-Wan isn't forced to separate them in his head because he can't deal with the pain of thinking about it, he's just choosing to mourn the version of Anakin that he remembers, the version of Anakin he raised and loved. He HAS to move on, he has to let go, or he'll remain as stuck in the past as Anakin himself is and won't be of any use to anyone. I do love that the separation seems to come more from Anakin himself than from Obi-Wan, something that the Kenobi show didn't even begin. We see Anakin say something similar to Luke in ROTJ and Ahsoka in Rebels, too. Anakin being incapable of coming to terms with what he's done and therefore having to separate who he was from who he's choosing to be is ENTIRELY in character for him. Anakin CAN'T accept change, he CAN'T accept reality, that's such a major core of who Anakin is and why he does the things he does. What Obi-Wan is doing is just accepting that Anakin has CHANGED, that he's choosing to be a Sith, and so he can mourn the person he remembers while accepting that the person who currently exists is now his enemy (and not someone he can save).

Which leads nicely into your second question which is about whether Obi-Wan WANTED Luke to kill Anakin or not. Let's look at what the dialogue is.

Luke: There IS still good in him. Obi-Wan: He's more machine now, than man. Twisted and evil. Luke: I can't do it, Ben. Obi-Wan: You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again. Luke: I can't kill my own father. Obi-Wan: Then the Emperor has already won. You were our only hope.

Now, personally, this doesn't scream to me of Obi-Wan WANTING Luke to kill Anakin so much as it does Obi-Wan recognizing that so long as the Sith remain alive and in power, there will never be peace.

However, you will notice that Obi-Wan never actually SAYS that Luke has to kill Vader. He says that Luke has to FACE Vader. This is important because the OT is, for many reasons, LUKE'S story. It's not actually Anakin's. And one of the major things happening for Luke across ESB and ROTJ is that he has to face his own darkness and accept it in order to rise above it. That's what Vader represents. Vader is not the tragic hero Anakin Skywalker at this point, he's just the physical manifestation of Luke's own darkness. Obviously you can choose to look at this scene with all of the context of Anakin's story from the Prequels and TCW and all the numerous other things that have been released since then that explore Anakin's character further and add more nuance to him. But the truth of the matter is that this scene was written long before any of that was out there in the world. Lucas had some idea of how that story was going to look, he'd written out a certain amount of it, but it wasn't something that was SUPER impacting the story being told in THIS film. This film is NOT Anakin's story. It just isn't.

And the other thing that happens in this scene is the revelation of Leia as Luke's sister. So not only are they discussing the manifestation of Luke's darkness, but they're bringing in a representation of LIGHT, as well, of Luke's GOODNESS. His love for Leia, for this person who's done nothing but fight for peace and freedom since we've met her, who's most well-known line is about HOPE, who is constantly being dressed in white to help get all of that across. THAT'S the other side of the coin. So this scene is telling us that obviously Luke HAS good in him, of course he does, but that he also needs to accept that he has the capacity for darkness, too, or that goodness can be corrupted towards evil, the same way his father's was.

Balance means making the choice to face your own darkness and accept it in order to be able to control it so that you do not succumb to it. And balance is what makes the Jedi who they are. Luke will never be a true Jedi until he achieves balance, and he can't achieve balance until he faces his darkness. So sure, what's happening on the surface is that Obi-Wan is telling Luke that he has to be willing to face the possibility that he's going to have to kill his own father. Other people have pointed out that, with additional context from things like the Prequels and even the Kenobi show, Obi-Wan is saying that Anakin likely won't GIVE Luke another option and that Luke needs to be able to do better than Obi-Wan, finish the job Obi-Wan was unable to complete before. And I'm happy to sort-of incorporate that more Watsonian idea into the Doylist concept of Luke just needing to face his own darkness, but the Doylist one HAS to come first and so many people choose to ignore it in favor of just getting mad at Obi-Wan for telling Luke he might have to kill his father or everything is doomed. Looking at it like that is really such a surface-level reading of the scene that ignores all of the deeper meaning of the entire story Luke has gone on over the course of three films, to me.