#Joy Kills Sorrow | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

giddlygoat · 9 months

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it’s so funny bc i’m homeschooled and i avoided like 90% of the Average Kid childhood trauma bc of that and when ppl ask about my education i’m just like. look buddy. i can attribute an astonishing chunk of my good attitude, adventuresome spirit and kind heart to having watched my little pony instead of doing homework.

i know it sounds silly [because it is!] but i’m not kidding. being able to choose what i pursued was EXACTLY what i needed growing up, so i didn’t have to waste any extra time on subjects that didn’t appeal to me, worry about bullies or awful teachers, AND i had heaps of free time to spend doing what i pleased [almost entirely drawing]. i learned to write a check, order and shop for my own food, care for farm animals and pets, ask for help, speak my mind, dress as i like, and foster an outgoing and hopeful outlook on life that school would not have taught me.

my mom is incredible, and she has taught me countless invaluable things about life. but as a little kid, your parent’s lessons tend to bounce right off. the very same lessons from my favorite characters however, typically didn’t!

watching my little pony reinforced everything my mom stands for: kindness, reaching out and helping others, and looking out for and encouraging your peers, to name a few. good news - these very values are portrayed in flawed and deeply relatable pastel ponies with catchy songs full of heart and joy! watching my little pony prepared me for far more than i could have imagined in life, sometimes with something as simple as asking myself “what would rarity do?” in a situation i’m not confident in, for example.

i like to joke about how they should play my little pony for the kids in school, but i think it really does teach many things that aren’t inherently reinforced in the school system [although, i am only speaking on what i’ve heard from people who weren’t homeschooled. i have been inside a school only once for a short time].

anyway, this is all to say that it saddens me a bit when people casually reduce my little pony to something of little significance. mlp obliviously isn’t going to be everyone’s thing, but the positive impact it has had on me and countless others is undeniable, and it’s my hope that we soon live in a world that proudly encourages more media like my little pony for not only kids, but people of all ages to enjoy unabashed, no matter their story. every time i hear a friend say their parents didn’t let them watch it because it was ‘too girly’ or whatever nonsense, i become increasingly determined to make that world a reality.

long story short: i hold my little pony close and i am very grateful for what it’s taught me and continues to teach me, even all these years later. it’s good to be earnest and love as much as you can.

#my little pony #greenie lore dump ig LAWL #idk man i just watched oppenheimer and it got me thinking about my personal philosophy a lot #and i started thinking of all the reasons i always felt i had to seek joy and whimsy in my life no matter what #bc this world is in a bad way [as usual] and i wanted to know why the inherit terror of living wasn’t killing me already #and like. in the absolute most simplified terms possible. at the very root of it.#for me it started with taking mlp to heart and modeling myself after those characters #and really all i want to say is that i’m proud of people for trying. all i want to share is the delight i find in each day #and i want to acknowledge that the awful terrible everyday horrors of this world are very real and very certain #but for every demoralizing sorrow in this world there is always an equal if not greater love #that’s how i see it anyway #mlp #thoughts

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just-an-enby-lemon · 2 years

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My favorite part of Tim Burton's Alice in Woonderland movies is the sadistic joy I have imagining Jervis Tetch being forced to whatch it.

#tim burton #alice in wonderland #tim burton alice in wonderland #jervis tetch #mad hatter #jervis would be soo angry but so so sad #it gives me genuine joy #personally I think he would die be of anger or sorrow #or he would just kill Tim Burton

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what-aboutno · 1 year

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Thinking about c!Owen and how he never truly went back to how he was before the maze.... Yes he went back to killing demons and that same mindset but he wasn't the same.

Small bits of 'maze owen' would peak through at times, he still tried to save puddy in the end. I don't think he could ever go back to how he was before. He cares so much about the people in the clearing, even the demons no matter how much he wants to deny it

#Even before his death he's thinking about the people's he's killed not from the war but his previous friends #People he would have protected his life with and he's feeling regret? Or something else?#goddd this character man #i am shaking his him violently skdjd #outsiders smp #outsiders smp spoilers #something something being stuck with a group of people who all just want to surive #something something going through greif sorrow anger but joy and happiness in this cold maze together changes you #when you have no one but the people there to rely on and have your back and how you would do anything to protect them #turning your back on them would never be easy...#okay ignore me now im thinking too much about outsiders again skdjf #zara rambles

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electricshoebox · 1 year

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I've been replaying Red Dead Redemption 2, which made me want to dust off and spruce up my old playlist for it. I never really got around to sharing it anywhere, so have some sad cowboy music!

#music #red dead redemption 2 #joy kills sorrow and the weepies in particular #Spotify

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meguwumibear · 9 months

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having vampire sukuna thoughts

#i know his true form is already monstrous #and #you know #literally blood thirsty #but what if he was also a vampire #the kind with blood capable of healing wounds #the kind that links the drinker to him permanently #so that he is always with them #experiencing their joys and sorrows and pains #who spares a human hes about to kill #after he sticks his fingers in their mouth #and they bite

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gatun-gatunesco · 11 months

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...

#and so i came back here. because in here i can find joy and sorrow. laugh a little and cry a lot because someone made a post i resonate with #it makes me feels understood. a private and intimate place that is also shared at the same time. and strangely; like a home #but i came back without knowing who i am. I see someone else in the mirror. Is that a monster? a sinner? a human? a normal man?#after all that effort leaving depression and self hate from my adolescence behind. from being proud of myself for being different to all me #was all a lie? how could i do such awful and terrible thing to the person i swore to protect? the person i love the most #i said i would never do that kind of unforgivable act. And here i am. Alive after the event. I want to drop dead. To dissapear from here.#But at the same time i want to fix what i did. in order to do that i need to heal. to change. be happy. to live. and i hate it #how can i do all of that with the weight of guilt crushing me and telling me i killed myself that day? i am just a shell of who i was #how to change what i thought was the best version of me? i was supposed to be different no harmful and kind man!!!#i already asked for help. and they told me it was not all my fault. But i still think it is. There is no way it can be 50/50 #physical actions are only responsibility of the ones who made it. circumstances are not a reason to diminish them guilt #a confused person is not deserving of any part of the guilt. they do not have control over themselves. but the other ones sure have it #yes. they might have started and added little physical actions. but i refused and it never came to completion. which is the opposite of min #physical trauma can spawn emotional and mental trauma as well. is way more bad and deep that the emotional one i might have #i want to kill that trash in front of the mirror. why are you still living bitch? just to be a parasite and hurt people on the go?#to make irreversible mistakes that affects every person around you? your decisions never end well. why do not you just give up already?#and yet here i am. trying to not isolate myself thanks to the safe place i found here. I can write what is on my mind. gives me some relief #because the only person i talked everyday is the same one i hurted as i never thought i would in my life #Hope i can found redemption one day. I hope they can heal and be happy soon and forever.#I am going to always be worry about them (i am sure of that) but i wish nothing but the best for them. I want nothing to hurt them again.#They never deserved the trauma and guilt. They suffered more than enough way before i step in and fucked up everything.#Life. if you can hear me. Please give them recovery. happyness. health and lots of love. They deserve it. Please #They did nothing wrong! Take them pain away and put it in me. I will stay alive just for that if is neccesary #I wanted to kill myself way long ago. but i still here. I might want to kill myself again. but i still will be here.#Just leave them be happy. That is what i really want

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yeslordmyking · 2 years

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Suffering makes you closer to God and the person He intended for you to be when He created you. It's time to love and embrace the pain and suffering we are naturally wired to hate and avoid.

I love sadness, pain, and suffering, because I know that God is changing me for the better, even if I can never be myself or love what I love ever again.

Let her die. Do not mourn her.

Thank you God for this heartbreak.

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risuola · 8 months

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TOO MUCH — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

Lately, it felt like not a second pass by without some new curse appearing somewhere in Japan and both you and Satoru had your hands full of work for few weeks, but when he comes back home, exhausted to the bone, his composure snaps and he unloads his frustration on you.

cw: angst, verbal abuse, hurt/little comfort, mentions of blood and hurt, reader is injured, mental exhaustion — 2,5k words

Too much. Too much of everything that piled up on Satoru's shoulders, weighing him down so heavily that he almost couldn't breathe. It felt like the world was on fire, curses crawling out of every shithole in Japan, most of them first or special grade, spreading nothing but death and chaos. So many people killed, so much blood and pain he had witnessed in the last few weeks, it drowned him in exhaustion and helplessness. Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer alive, and yet he felt so helpless in the current situation. He traveled from town to town, fighting these terrors, but the lives that had been taken away, he couldn't bring back, and he used to think that he was immune to it already. Turns out, one can never be immune enough.

You had your hands full with work as well, but you stayed in Tokyo. The situation drained your energy too, the cascading waves of sadness and sorrow made you feel like you couldn't think straight, but you pushed through. You felt so weak, but had to be strong, everyone had to be. All of your sorcerer friends were just as engaged in the fight as you were, just as tired and distressed, but the show must go on, as they say.

You and Gojo weren't officially a couple, though everyone knew you were together. You were friends, yes, the kind of friends who kiss and have sex. The kind of friends that use pet-names and fall asleep while cuddling naked. Shit, you lived together for a few months, you know everything about him and he knows just as much about you. And you were happy, sharing every moment. He always said that you bring him so much comfort, that he feels like he can be openly himself when he's with you and be accepted for it. Nothing could ever bring you more joy than the man you love feeling comfortable with you.

That being said, it wasn't the best time for your relationship slash situationship. He was more out of the house than in it, and you were just sleeping there, barely. It's been going on for a few weeks already, and it's just now it’s beginning to finally calm down. Few weeks of constant fighting for everyone involved in the jujutsu world, but it started to slow down. So you knew that Satoru would finally return home.

It's when you showered and put on your pajamas that you heard the keys twisting in the lock and the doors opening. Putting on a smile, you rushed to welcome Gojo home, but the moment you saw him, you knew he's extremely exhausted.

Satoru entered the house already annoyed by the conversation he had with Gakuganji a few moments before. That old fart had the audacity to nag him about his methods while he himself was sitting in his cave sipping green tea, not caring one bit that the world was drowning in curses and blood. He threw the keys on the shelf, kicked off his shoes and took off the blindfold, then looked at you, all clean and comfortable in your pajamas. He scoffed quietly.

He felt like his own body was falling apart, everything hurt, his head was pounding, his eyes were burning. Even though he was actively healing himself, the side effects of everything were getting to him. A few weeks of nonstop fighting, of domains, of reds, blues, and purples, and so much physical combat had left him hanging on the last thread of his composure. The usual mask of cheerful carelessness long gone.

Suddenly he wished he could enter the empty house, throw away his clothes, collapse on the bed dirty and just fall asleep, but he couldn't. You were there. And there was never a time in the past when he wouldn't be absolutely overjoyed to come home to you. Even when tired, he wanted nothing more than your arms around him. But not right now.

"Satoru, hey," you greeted him, keeping your voice soft and on the quiet side. You knew him so well, you could see how fatigued he was and frankly, you couldn't blame him. Being the strongest had its downsides, one of which was being very much in demand, and sadly, no one could take his place. "You're exhausted, huh?"

"Look at you, so damn perceptive," he snapped harshly, his eyes cold and empty as he looked down at you. He walked past you to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Are you hungry? I can make you someth-“

"No, just shut up, you cannot make me fucking anything," once again, his tone was cold as he snarled at you. It was the first time so much cyanide spilled out of his mouth and he just barely opened it. At first you tried to understand it. Things had been really draining lately and you knew he was angry because he was tired, but it hurt nonetheless.

"Alright," you sighed, deciding it's best not to get deeper into the conversation when he's so argumentative. "Do as you wish, get some rest, Satoru."

"You know, why instead of telling me what the hell to do, you just don't leave my house, huh?", Shut up Gojo, he screamed at himself subconsciously. "Why are you even here anyway?" Shut. Up. " All comfy when I'm constantly on the job?"

"I know you're tired, Satoru, but I've been on missions too. I'm tired too," you looked at him in defeat, unable to keep the smiley mask on. There was so much wrong in this situation, so much anger being thrown at you for no reason whatsoever, and you had every right in the world to be just as angry as he was, but you just chose not to. You wanted to welcome him home with warmth, comfort him, and keep him up even if you felt down. You wanted to soothe his aching body when yours hurt just as much. Or worse. You were badly injured during the last few battles, but Shoko had her hands so full, you told her you could wait, and you hid all those wounds from Gojo's eyes so as not to worry him.

"'Yeah, your little missions,'" he bit, and your brows furrowed at the sound of his words.

"What does that even mean?" you asked, slowly feeling the heat of anger coursing through your veins. "I'm first gra-"

"I don't care what you are. You're still nothing to me. I deal with real shit, not those..."

You slapped him. Or at least you tried, your hand stopping just short of his face, and it surprised you to realize his limitless was still on, even though he was home already. He was still in fight-or-flight mode, still feeling threatened enough to keep his defensive techniques activated.

"Just what do you think you're fucking doing?" he growled, taking your wrist into his grip, the squeeze shooting shockwaves of pain through your nervous system. "Did my words hurt you? Did the truth hurt you so badly that you thought you could actually hit me?", his tone had a taunting undertone, and when you looked into his blue eyes, you saw nothing but cold. "Funny little thing."

"Let go, Satoru."

"Oh, I will. And when I do, you'll get your useless ass out of here. I'm not your boyfriend, we just fuck, we're not in a goddamn relationship for you to be here all the time. I need my space."

Gojo hated every word that fell out of his mouth, but now he couldn't take them back or erase them, and he didn't exactly know how to act now that he had said them. Immediately, he let his limitless inactivate, hoping you'd want to slap him again. Shit, he'd even accept a kick in the balls, but you remained silent, just looking at him. He could tell by the way your eyes glistened in the sharp artificial light of his kitchen that there were tears threatening to come out, but you didn't cry. Your jaw clenched for a moment and you lowered your hand.

"Right," you exhaled deeply, feeling the hurt burn your heart and soul. The smoke of sadness already flowing through your veins, your cells, your mind. "You're right, we're not. Here," you performed a theatrical swing of your arm, displaying the interiors to him, "your fucking space. I'll let myself out."

"Y/n..." he tried, but you were already in the room, changing from your pj's to sweatpants. He stayed in the kitchen, hoping you'd just jump into bed and maybe cry about it all, and he'd just come back later and comfort you when he wasn't mad anymore, but it didn't go that way.

Once he saw you again, you were heading towards the door.

"Y/n stay, don't be silly, stop," he tried to grab you, but you slapped his hands away.

"What, does the almighty, fucking honored one wish to add something to his oh-so-wonderful speech?"

"No, I'm sorry, stay," he took your hand forcefully, pulling you into his chest, but you fought back, not wanting anything to do with him right now. He had said too much. You knew it was all driven by his exhaustion, but it was far too much.

"No, Gojo, I don't want to stay here. I'm more than pleased to leave you in your space. There's no damn reason for you to share your precious air with such a useless nothing."

"No, no, please," he begged, his anger slowly being overtaken by panic. The sound of his last name felt cold and unfamiliar as it rolled off your tongue. "I'm sorry, please stay. I didn't mean it. Fuck, I didn't mean any of it."

"Please, take your hands off me," you told him more quietly. You were tired and now emotionally drained as well. All you wanted from this evening was to cuddle up with him to sleep. To bask in his warmth, knowing he's safe and home, to feel his skin against yours, to breathe him in. But no.

"No, I won't," he lowered his head and buried his face in your neck. "Please, I'm so fucking sorry. I didn't mean it, I'm just so tired. I feel dead, there has been so much fighting and pain and suffering and death all around me these past few weeks. I'm sorry, y/n," his voice faded to whisper as he rambled against your pulse.

"Gojo..."

"I don't think you're useless or nothing. Fuck, what have I done" he was spiraling slowly into a panic attack. You could feel his heartbeat getting hectic, his breathing uneven, and his grip on you so tight it hurt. "I am nothing without you. Please stay."

"Gojo."

"I love you," he whispered, his tone breathless, and at first you thought you had heard him wrong. He had never told you that. Not even once. "I love you so fucking much, please. Slap me, kick me, punch me in the dick, I don't care. Just don't leave me. I'm so sorry."

"Satoru, please, it hurts..."

"Hurts?", he froze. What hurts? Did he hurt you? The thought frightened him, not only did he insult you for no damn reason and now he caused you pain? As if burned, he let go of you completely, raising his hands as if he wanted to keep them in sight so you knew he wouldn't hurt you anymore. "I'm sorry."

"I've been fighting for these weeks, too. I'm tired too. I would never compare myself to you, but I gave it my all, too," you exhaled deeply. "And I know you're exhausted, Satoru. So please go to bed and get some sleep. I'll just go home."

"Here is your home, with me."

"Here?", you briefly looked around. It was a place you loved because it was filled with him. It was where your heart wanted to be when you felt safest and happiest, but now... "Suddenly I feel like an intruder here. I feel like I shouldn't be here."

"No, please don't say that. Listen, y/n, love," he dropped to his knees, took your hands in his and kissed the tops of them gently and tenderly. "Please, stay with me. I'm an idiot. But I love you. And I need you here, I need you in my life. I want you by my side."

"So, what do you want us to be? You said we're just fucking. God, I thought we were at least friends, if not a couple, but..."

"I want us to be everything. I want you to be my friend, my partner, my lover, my wife and my entire world."

You sighed. Deep and slow, pushing the air out of your lungs, letting your whole body deflate as you took his hands and pulled him up.

"Go take a shower and come to bed. You need to sleep it off. I need to rest too."

Obeying, Satoru rushed to the bathroom and you made sure to lock the doors, turn off the lights and took the time to change back into your pajamas. Sitting on the bed, you finally felt the tears running down your face. They brought you some relief and you let them flow freely, desperate to get it out of you before Gojo came back. It pained you how wrong the evening went and you wondered if there was anything you did to cause it, but no. It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve it. And you should leave him there alone, just as he wished for. Then why were you still here?

"Please don't cry," his long arms wrapped around you from behind, enveloping you in his warmth. The light sweet scent of his body wash pleasantly filled your airways and it's out of habit that you leaned into him. "Will you ever forgive me?" he asked, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks. Slowly, he laid you down on the pillows and took his usual place beside you.

"I will," you sighed, already feeling the discomfort. "But please, let's change sides."

Satoru didn't understand at first, but he did what you asked anyway. When he saw you exhale in relief as you turned to the other side, his brain clicked. Moving his hands in the most delicate way possible, he lifted your shirt a little, revealing the many layers of bandages, already tinged with red that was seeping through them slowly.

"God, you're wounded. That's what was hurting you when I held you... I had no idea why you didn't tel-, ah, because I was being an asshole, right," he sighed.

"Yeah, I wasn't going to tell you anyway. I'm fine, just Shoko had her hands full, so I told her I'd wait a day or two. It's just a scratch, really," you told him, fixing your shirt. "Please, let's get some sleep, okay? We'll talk about it all later."

"I love you," he whispered, pulling you to his chest and planting a kiss on the top of your head. It was only now that he could feel his body relax, with you right next to him, your heartbeat syncing with his own, and all of your loving aura filling his body. And he realized that the words he never had the balls to say out loud to you now felt natural, rolling off his tongue. "I love you so much."

"You idiot," you sighed, closing your eyes and slowly melting into his form. "I love you too."

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pinkopalina · 1 year

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constantly I am reminded

#i wish someone would just stab me in the skull 482 times while i was sleeping #i wish someone would cut me open and hang up my organs like party decor #i wish someone would pull out my teeth one by one and then grind them up and pocket sand me in the eyes #i wish someone would take hold of my flesh and rip it off my bones as if i wasnt worthy of wearing it #i wish someone would squeeze me until my head popped off #i wish people would hurt me physically instead of killing me from the inside out #i wish i was as dead outside as i feel inside so i wouldn't have to keep going through this #a slap in the face would probably feel better #i wish people cared about what I said and i wish i had something worthy to say #i wish i was more than my emptiness and depression #i wish i wish i wish #i wish i hadnt spent my life wishing #i wish i had something more than sharp metal to turn to. dull even. plastic even. who cares #I wish i felt loved #i wish i was loveable #i wish it mattered if i disappeared #i wish i would stop making stupid posts like this #i hope you all enjoy living my dream i hope it fills you with joy and happiness i hope you love life i hope you never feel such sorrow

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 4 months

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Neil Gaiman and Roz Kaveney at the British Library event Why We Need Fantasy 20.11.2023 :) ❤

Neil: Good omens Season One was, for me, an exercise in adaptation. I'd taken something, and I wanted to turn it into something else. Good Omens Season Two, on the other hand, was just an absolute joy, because now I knew I have Jon Hamm, and I can get him to do this stuff, and he's going to be walking naked through Soho at the beginning, and everybody is going to think they're going to hate him, and instead, he's going to be this marvelous, goofy figure that they will all love but kind of hate themselves for loving, but not know if he's a bad guy, but they'll love him anyway. And over here, I will have my Crowley, and I know that I can get David Tennant to do anything now, there is nothing that he will not go for. And so I can ask him to do things that are even more ridiculous. And then over here, I've got Michael Sheen, and everybody in the whole world just wants to..., you know, it is now forgotten by humanity that once upon a time, Michael Sheen was thought of as that actor who plays the really creepy people.

Roz: Yeah. I saw him in Kingdom of Heaven the other night and thought, oh, that was Michael Sheen.

Neil: That was Michael Sheen.

Roz: The evil priest that gets killed.

Neil: He used to play... I mean, he used to play creepy people, and everybody knew that if you want a good, slimy serial killer person, you go for Michael Sheen. Currently - I got a phone call from him the other day - a little Marco Polo video message from him with the strangest haircut I've seen, and I get strange messed... you know, hair, but this one, and he's playing Prince Andrew, so he's absolutely capable of still bringing in the creep. But, you know, Michael having just become this cuddly, cinnamon roll creature of pure love and joy and knowing that everybody was just going to want to cuddle him for six episodes until I let him break their hearts. I'm sorry. Perhaps he will-

Audience member: No, you're not.

Neil: Not even the tiniest bit. There is no sorrow in that.

Roz: I was in hospital when I saw Good Omens Two and the moment I finished watching it, I texted you and said, 'You magnificent bastard.'

Watch the whole event here :).

#good omens #neil gaiman #roz kaveney #why we need fantasy #why we need fantasy british library 2023 event #events #interview #neil interview #videos #fun fact #gos2 #season 2 #jon hamm #michael sheen #david tennant #s2 interview #transcripts

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bruciemilf · 1 year

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Crying because I imagined Damian quietly observing Bruce with the other birds, -- who surpassed his Baba in height, -- and taking in what he's seeing.

Bruce picks Dick up, brows tied with effort. He doesn't miss the wince.

A part of him wants to wake his older brother up and tell him to get himself upstairs, but Dick clings to their father tight. Damian realizes how mean that'd be.

" I'm fine,'' Jason does this a lot; Pretending. They're a family of actors, after all. Blood or not. " I'm not 10, I'm perfectly capable of walking out of this car by myself."

Bruce nods, " Okay."

"...My ankle hurts, actually."

Damian noticed, more sorrow than envy, that Jason holds Baba tighter than all of them. And that Bruce holds him back tenfold tighter. They love Gofham, -- but they'll never trust her again.

Tim and Cass are easier to work around. They both get piggyback rides. He doesn't miss Jason and Dick being upset about that.

But He also doesn't miss the blurry sadness in Tim's eyes when Bruce needs a minute of rest after, or that he's looking Baba in the eye instead of up at him.

He doesn't miss Cass' joy dulling slightly when Bruce can't quite toss her in the air as easily as he used to.

" What are you doing, Habibi? It's bed time. We have to call mama for the goodnight call."

Damian nods. He makes grabby hands, an embarrassing habit he picked up from Dick, but not one he's willing to kill off from his system because it makes Bruce grin.

" I'd like to talk to her alone for a minute."

"Of course. I'll be right back, honey."

Damian's bedroom window gives him a clear view over the moon.

He sees the bat signal shining across the ashy Gotham skyline. He knows Bruce won't be right back until morning time, brusied and beat.

Damian says goodnight to his mother. He refuses to give any updates on Baba's dating life. No, mother, he won't skin Vicki Vale alive.

Damian googles How to stay small before going to sleep in Bruce's bedroom, where he finds the others already sleeping there

#wahhhh #just thinking abt them #batdad #bruce wayne is a good dad #soft bruce wayne #soft batfamily #fluff #dc #dcu #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #tim drake

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brcha · 2 years

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not cute things to remember:

Breha’s youngest sister, Deara, betrayed her and became a spy for the Empire. informed on Bail’s communications. endangered Leia. endangered the entire planet of Alderaan and their way of life by helping to orchestrate illegal weapons being planted in Aldera (which would have led to Imperial agents taking over Alderaan’s government if Bail and Ferus had not discovered this and gotten the weapons away before the staged Imperial bust).

and after confronting Deara about this?

Breha banished her from Alderaan, giving her a personal guard, and a safehouse so that she would be protected. both from the Empire trying to find her to use her again, and from anyone who would have been angry with her spying for the Empire. even after being betrayed, Breha protected Deara and made sure she would be safe. she refused to use Deara as a double agent against the Empire; she refused to put Deara in prison or publicize her betrayal.

Breha is such a kind, forgiving person. Breha loves her family so much. Breha loves her sister even after Deara breaks her heart.

#deara was breha's closest and most trusted advisor. deara was breha's precious and beloved younger sister.#breha loved deara so much; deara's betrayal broke her heart.#when ferus questioned breha's decision about what to do with deara her only answer was to say /twice/ 'she is family.'#I'm forever upset about it. (and breha is too tbh.) so many times after she habitually turned to ask deara's advice #only to remember that deara wasn't there anymore and even if she was she couldn't have asked her advice.#deara knew breha's deepest secrets and hopes and dreams. her deepest sorrows and happiest joys.#the thought of a spy in aldera had been a shock enough. for the spy to be /deara/ was heartbreakingly unthinkable.#deara's betrayal was the single most heartbreaking thing that any individual could have done to breha.#and even after deara did it and broke breha's heart breha still made sure she would be safe and protected.#(...do you ever consider that because breha sent deara off of alderaan... 18 years later deara wasn't killed by the death star)#: deara antilles ( when the words of a sister come back in whispers )#q

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bitterchocoo · 3 months

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It's Punishment Time!!

Neuvillette | M. Reader

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"Now then, I've prepared a very special punishment~"

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They say you shouldn't break the law or else.

Even with that, some still do and ended up meeting their downfall. But what happened to those who committed a much more horrible sin? Surely imprisonment won't be enough.. an execution must be in order.

But this...

Isn't what they all imagine..

The executioner seems... A little to eager to do his job..

He smiles from ear to ear, sometimes he even laughs! No ounce of regret or sorrow in his expression as he does his job.

People began to call him a lunatic. A lunatic that enjoys killing each others. But is that really true? Is he truly a lunatic? Or was there more to him than meets the eye?

"Neuvi~"

The Chief Justice sighed at the voice he didn't expect to hear that day. A voice that doesn't have a single ounce of guilt. Such a carefree voice. A voice that doesn't suit the man who has it. "Don't call me that."

"Why not~?" The other ask childishly as his head peeked from behind the Judge's armchair, like a child "sneakily" watching their parents work. Neuvillette groans in respond, what did he do to deserve this? Why does he have to be stuck with this lunatic of a man? But as the lunatic once said to him "'What's a Judge without his Executioner?'"

[Name] giggles at Neuvillette's shift in mood. Oh how he loves it when the other is like this~ It brings such joy to his heart. "Come on, Neuvi~ relax why don't ya~" He says, putting his chin on the other's shoulder as he gave his signature Cheshire grin.

Neuvillette roll his shoulder to get [Name] off of him as he continues on with his paper work. [Name] huff in annoyance, fixing his stature he eyed the Judge's paperwork before crossing his arms and leaned his back against the back of Neuvillette's armchair as he looks at the window in front of him. The two stayed like that in silence. It's neither uncomfortable nor comfortable just pure and utter silence with only the sound of Neuvillette's pen writing on the paper.

As time passes, Neuvillette decided to initiate a conversation with the lunatic. "Are you truly a lunatic as they claim to be?" This caught [Name]'s attention. "Oh? and why is it suddenly a part of your concerns, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

Neuvillette could practically hear the smirk in [Name]'s voice but before he could reply [Name] spoke up. "Believe what you want to believe, Monsieur Neuvillette. I don't care what you all think of me."

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The whole room erupts in whispers and murmurs regarding the lunatic of an Executioner as he had just executed a man that had been declared guilty by the Chief Justice.

"What a madman."

"He's insane."

"Why isn't he the one to get executed?"

"How did he even become an executioner to begin with?"

Those words continues as those voices becomes louder and louder. Neuvillette taps his cane on the floor hard enough to the point the loud sound echoes throughout the whole room, silencing the courtroom. Every time an execution is about to begin. This always happens. The whole room will be filled with many whispers and murmurs of people wondering just how a man can be so unhinged and.. excited about executing someone.

This also.. drove Neuvillette to start questioning a few things.

No matter the day, the time.. that lunatic always have that Cheshire grin on his face, that insane, maniac look.

How does a human learn to know such madness and insanity?

#seme male reader #top male reader #x male reader #genhsin impact #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvilette x reader #neuvillette x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader

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sxnktaalxna · 4 months

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Threads - Chapter 2

Azriel x Acheron Sister

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

After the stiff encounter of a dinner, Feyre and her companions bid the three sisters a goodnight. Her companions seemed to disappear the second it wasn't deemed rude to leave, but Feyre lingered to embrace (Y/N) once more.

(Y/N) gently embraced back, though not as tightly as their first hug earlier in the evening. Feyre frowned, pulling away and holding her younger sister's hands, 'I know you have questions. And honestly, I might not be able to answer them all. But I promise you little butterfly, if you ever need me, I'm always here. I've never left your side, and I never will.'

(Y/N) nodded, 'It's a lot. And I don't know how to feel or what to think. But if there's anyone I trust in this world, it'll always be you.'

Feyre grinned, glowing vibrantly at her sister's words. (Y/N) wasn't sure if the glow was some kind of fae magic, or Feyre's genuine joy. Perhaps it could be both. Feyre was just relieved that (Y/N) still had faith in her after all this time. Relieved that her sister looked at her and still saw Feyre her sister, not the Fae.

'It's getting late and we'll need to clean since our servants have gone home,' Nesta said curtly, her jaw clenched.

'We're here when you need us,' Elain said, her lips curled up gently.

Taking Nesta's hint, Feyre bid one last goodnight to her sisters before following after companions to begin their planning. The moment the door closed, Nesta turned to her youngest sister in a rage.

'(Y/N), you cannot be serious,' Nesta huffed at her sister's impulsive behaviour, cheeks turning rosy, 'Inviting those things into our home-'

'It's our sister! The same sister who kept us alive for years,' (Y/N) exclaimed, her voice caught in her throat. Still, she continued, 'You cannot look at her and say she's changed.'

'She is fae,' Nesta snarled, her striking features curled into the image of beautiful fury. 'She will get us all killed with this business.'

'We'd be dead anyway,' (Y/N)'s anger and guilt began to build, her voice raising and arms flailing in frustration. 'You heard what Feyre said, if we don't help we're all dead anyway.'

'Nesta, (Y/N) please,' Elain sighed, placing a gentle hand on Nesta's wrist. Nesta didn't react, her piercing gaze remaining on (Y/N). 'Nesta, we're going to help our sister. (Y/N) is right, it's the least we can do.'

Without a word, Nesta stormed up the stairs and disappeared down the hall towards her quarters. Elain sighed, 'Nesta's right though.'

'How?'

'We don't know anything about fae or what's about to happen.' Elain said, plucking at her nails. 'We have to be careful. Especially you, little butterfly.'

'Do either of you ever stop caring about yourselves?' (Y/N) uttered before passing Elain to her own room without a word. Elain gulped at her sister's words, sorrow seeding in her heart as she blew each candle out.

-☆-

The morning came without an incident. Feyre and her companions were nowhere to be found in the house, but it was safe to assume they'd be fine. Nesta remained fiercely against their plans, but kept her disagreements to herself. Elain and (Y/N) outnumbered her unfortunately, and to some extent they were right. Not that she'd admit it.

Elain had her own reservations. After all, her own fiance warned her of the fae's dangerous nature. But (Y/N) was right, they owed Feyre their lives. The least they could do was offer a safe meeting place. Even with her trust in Feyre, the thought of fae entering her home had her reaching to fiddle with the iron ring around her slim ring finger.

Nesta insisted all the sister's began to wear their iron bracelets from the market at all times. Despite the clear wear from years of use, Nesta and Elain wore it on their wrists since dinner, hidden beneath velvet cuffs. (Y/N) wore hers to ease her sister's worries, but continued to be reminded of their shortcomings to Feyre.

Feyre did not have one. (Y/N) insisted that she share hers, ignoring Feyre's denials. Each day at dawn when Feyre would be ready to slip away, (Y/N) would catch her hand and slip the slim bracelet on with a farewell and a promise to come back. The one day she slept in, snuggling into the sheets to catch the last warmth... She knew it was silly to assume, but (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder if Feyre would've come home that day if she had the bracelet with her.

Nesta tucked her bracelet under her cuff, her hair done up tight and neat. Elain was behind her, cloak already around her shoulders. Embroidered daisies and marigolds lined the edges of her cloak, courtesy of their baby sister's talents.

'We'll be back soon,' Nesta said, gently brushing (Y/N)'s hair behind her ear. 'Mrs Laurent is here if you need anything, but please stay inside.'

'I'll be fine,' (Y/N) retorted, still slightly bitter about Nesta's recent protectiveness. 'Please remember to pick up some pins, I've lost most of mine.'

'You should do better to watch where you put them' Nesta grumbled, recalling accidentally pricking herself on a pin left on a chair.

'We'll be back by noon,' Elain bid her younger sister goodbye. With that, the sister's made their way into their carriage towards town.

The day had barely grew light before (Y/N) began to grow bored. As skilled as she was with the needle, she could only prick herself so many times before admitting defeat. Her hands held the history of her life, from the hard calluses on her palms from an axe with a broken handle, to the tiny red dots lining the tips of her fingers. Her hands weren't smooth like Nesta's, or slim and dainty like Elain's. But they held Feyre's hands in cold winters, and made artistry of string. They weren't pretty, but they held life.

She was glad to have a shared artist's eye with her sister. It wasn't uncommon for the two to start fantasizing what life as artists would be like. In the little moments Feyre allowed herself to sit down, they would point and say 'This would be a wonderful painting' or 'A piece like this on a tapestry would be incredible'. Now, as (Y/N) stared into the gardens around the estate, she wondered if Feyre would find herself painting in the flowers during spring.

A tickle ran through her as a cold thread brushed her ankle. Looking down and seeing nothing, she stood to reach for a shawl and caught sight of something dark moving underneath her bed. She swallowed, eyes glued on the moving darkness. Her fingers wriggled around her desk, wrapping around her thread scissors. Before she could take a step forward, the same cold thread slivered around her wrist and fingers towards the scissors.

Yelping, the scissors slipped from her hand. (Y/N) went to shake off whatever creature it was only to see...darkness. A beautiful swirl of blacks and dark greys that wrapped itself around her wrist and fingers like a curious pet snake. The strange shadow held no face, yet moved with sentience and...curiosity? (Y/N) watched in confusion as the shadow continued to move like smoke. It held no physical presence, appearing to constantly turning like ink in water. Yet it's cold presence ran around her arm, confirming it was very real indeed. Perhaps she should've felt fear. Or at least anxiety. Yet she found herself giggling at its cool touch as it slithered up her forearm.

The shadow underneath her bed creeped out and wrapped around her ankles. She wondered if these were some sort of hallucination, a trick of fae, but thoughts were cut off when the shadows seemed to tug at her ankles. A small yet firm tug as if to say 'Follow'.

Was this Feyre? Feyre never mentioned how fae magic or communication worked, so perhaps this was it. This must be a sign. Snatching the cloak off her wardrobe, she followed the moving shadow out the door. The shadow around her wrist seemed to find a home there, continuing to weave itself through her fingers. Walking out into the garden with only her bedroom slippers, she knew Mrs Laurent would have a fit about treading dirt, but perhaps she could ask Feyre to magic them clean perhaps? She truly should ask what her dear sister can do as a fae.

The shadow weaved through the garden at a pace that had (Y/N) jogging to keep up. It weaved through Elain's garden into the woods just north of the estate. The dark creature glided across the snowy floor, leaving no trace as (Y/N) fought her way through the snow. She shivered at the snow in her feet, but it was too late to turn back or else she may miss it. The shadow swiftly disappeared into the darkness of a bush, leaving only (Y/N) and her new friend in a small clearing. Turning around, she could see the peaks of her home just above the treeline. If necessary, she could run back the way she came.

'You shouldn't follow strange creatures like that.' A low, baritone reached her ears. Turning back to where the shadow had disappeared stood Azriel. Except he seemed much more...

His wings, now spread open and wide behind him towered above her, casting a shadow over her against the dawn sunlight. Despite the visible light, he was surrounded by a shroud of darkness that danced around his frame. He was slightly obscured, but on his body glowed seven blue lights that cut through the shadows. Looking at her own wrist, she realised the shadows must be his.

'I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it,' (Y/N) shrugged, lifting her other hand to play with the gentle shadow. 'It's quite cute.'

Azriel chuckled, seemingly in disbelief at her words. 'Cute is not how most would normally describe them. I usually hear the words 'terrifying' or 'dark''.

'Then people don't know the meaning of those words,' (Y/N) replied, stepping closer to Azriel to extend her wrapped arm. 'I believe this one's yours too.'

The shadow began moving towards Azriel, but (Y/N) felt a tug around her arm as like fingers had gripped to not let go. Azriel's eyebrows furrowed at the shadows strange behaviour, before saying, 'It's alright, it likes your company more than mine.'

'Surely not,' (Y/N) shook her head, looking up at him, 'How could it not enjoy company as delightful as yours?'

'I believe you're mistaken in enjoying my company,' Azriel denied, but (Y/N) could see the gentle smile on his lips. No matter how tiny it seemed to be. He didn't look that much different, but seeing him much more relaxed compared to the dinner... His shoulders had dropped down, his jaw unclenched and posture much more calm compared to his stiff body movement the night before. The metallic scent of magic had returned, stronger and sharper than before, an iron that stung her nose and almost felt like wool over her sense. The presence of magic was stronger than ever now that Azriel had not tried to hide as he did before. (Y/N) curiously wondered if Rhysand's power was just as if not more paralysing considering his status as high lord. But she did not wish to think of any other man than the one before her. He stood taller, mightier, freer, and (Y/N) couldn't look away.

'And I believe, you cannot tell me what I can and cannot enjoy,' (Y/N) said, the smile growing larger on her face the longer she spoke to the shadowed man. 'How's my dear sister?'

'She's well. She's gone training with Rhysand,' Azriel said, gently placing his hands behind his back. Walking over, (Y/N) could feel the air grow colder as she stepped closer to his shroud of shadows. With each step, the shadows seemed to buzz with energy, with some bouncing away from Azriel's frame to join her side.

'And you say they aren't cute,' (Y/N) sang, 'What are you doing out here this early?'

'I'm helping Rhysand and Feyre,' Azriel replied, 'I'm just waiting.'

'For what?'

'For when they need me.'

'I suppose that's all you'll give me,' (Y/N) signed in resignation. He was a very secretive person undoubtedly, but it wasn't her place to ask these things either. Perhaps it was safer she didn't find out. But yet she yearned for more. She wanted to know more about this curious man. The stories he told her during the dinner had drew her in like fish to bait, capturing her attention with his words. She had been so pulled to him and his world that questions of danger turned into questions of curiousity. Of food, culture, and language. All questions that she was dying to ask, threatening to break past her sealed lips.

Azriel seemed amused by her disappointment saying, 'I'll answer any questions you have soon. Maybe when I know your sister won't take my head for it.'

'Certainly sounds like her,' (Y/N) said. The two held eyes for a moment, gentle smiles exchanged. But a glance towards her other wrist has her reminded of her sister's rage. Quickly, she hid the iron bracelets behind her waist - an attempt at both protecting him and possibly herself, 'I'm sorry, I forgot I wore this.'

'Why are you apologising?' Azriel asked, confused at her reaction. It'd be stupid not to know how absolutely resentful Nesta was towards fae - they weren't very quiet in their arguments. Nor was Nesta subtle. And it was not (Y/N)'s fault should she find herself seeking some form of comfort, even if the comfort wasn't true protection.

And yet, peculiarly she seemed more regretful than fearful. 'Safety is not something to be shameful for wanting.'

'I know, but I know it can hurt you and quite frankly, I'd be quite upset if it were my fault you were hurt.'

'I'll let you in on a secret,' Azriel softly replied. Like approaching a cornered creature, he gently extended his open palm towards her. An invitation of trust. A flickered glance between his open palm and his sincere eyes has her reaching to place her fingers in his gloved grasp, careful to avoid accidentally grazing his skin with iron.

She couldn't help the gasp that escaped when his other hand, warm and rough, wrapped itself around the iron bracelet. She almost flinched, wanting to cry out for him but...

He gently pulled the bracelet off her hand, his callused palm laying flat on the back of her hand for a moment. A glimpse of raised flesh around his hand caught her eye before it disappeared out of sight when he dropped her hand. The iron bracelet rested on his palm, old and dull. There it settled, as if it were nothing more than a small novelty piece. An antique from the market. None of what she had expected happened.

'Iron doesn't...'

'I don't mean to scare you,' Azriel clarified with softened eyes, extending the bracelet back. 'I promise I don't want to hurt you. You have nothing to fear me with me.'

(Y/N) gingerly plucked her bracelet back from him, silent in thought. The more she learned of the Fae, the dizzier she seemed to get. If iron has no effect, then her family wasn't safe? Did that mean fae could lie? Or perhaps it's solidified what she had secretly hoped for - that fae are not monsters from nightmares. And that Azriel was as lovely as he seemed to be.

Azriel's soft expression hardened in an instant, his shadows no longer dancing around the air. Now they sat deathly still, like a thick fog that began to way down on your lungs. (Y/N) began to understand what Azriel meant about his shadows. 'I'm sorry I must go.'

In a split second of snow swirl and gust, Azriel flew into the air and disappeared out of sight. (Y/N) stumbled at the sudden force of his wings, the snow settling around her and in her hair. She glanced up at the sky to catch a glimpse of him, only to see nothing but the beginning of a new day. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. There, she saw that her little friend around her wrist, 'I suppose you'll keep me safe then.'

-☆-

This isn't exactly how I wanted it to go, but I wanted to give them a little bonding before shit hits the fan in the next chapter :3 It's funny too cus I'm reallllyy invested in developing the Feyre dynamic even tho I don't need to but I musttt 😆 Also I feel like azriel may be a bit ooc from the books (i havent read a court of silver flames or a court of frost and starlight 😭)...butt we all have our own perceptions and headcanons about characters, it's part of what makes fanfics and reading so fun! so yes, if you believe this isn't the azriel ur used to reading about, I understand and that's ok!

Also, biiiig thank you to everyone who's interacted with this series so far! I truly wasn't expecting any sort of response so to see so much support already makes me super excited to keep going :) I hope you all enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it!

If you'd like to be tagged for updates please lmk 💗 Happy holidays and happy new year! Also some people who asked to be tagged weren't showing up so I'm so sorry I'm not sure why but I'll be happy to send u updates if you'd like :)

Taglist:

@wallacewillow0773638 @impossibelle @utterlyotterlyx @weasleyreidstyles @justdreamstars @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @fussel9913 @willowpains @eatsleepreadance1 @blueeclipsepaperstudent

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acheron

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kaicubus · 1 year

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All That You Want | Hantengu Clones

This is a choose your own path style fanfiction!! At the end of this post there will be four links with descriptions of where you want to go, and what character you’ll end up reading about. All of these outcomes are 18+ so readers beware.

cw : mentions of killing, actual killing, cursing, demon slayer activities.

Art by Mdwyer5 on DeviantArt

You are a hashira. You reside amongst the strongest team of swordsmen that have been trained for years to put an end to all demon kind, no matter how vile, disgusting, big or small, the creatures can be. It is your duty and purpose to kill each and every single one.

At first, you had joined the Demon Slayer Corps to find out who you wanted to be in life. While others had their own personal motives, yours was somewhat introspective and thoughtful, not wanting to cause any disruption in the peace that was unknowing to your peers. You tended to float around quietly, observing everyone as they planned, trained, and feasted with everyone else, making memories and laughing with each other.

A part, no, every part of you wanted that. But even when you had passed all the tests and gained your title as a hashira, you still felt like a lowly swordsman and nothing else. You had thought there was just a few more tasks that needed to be done in order to find your own personalized breathing technique that each other hashira possessed. Some unbeatable task never done before.

Everyone had always made light of the situation to help boost your spirits, but it always reminded you that no matter how anyone looked at you, they would always pity you. With no breathing style, there was a severe disadvantage and low chance of you actually fighting the demons your fellow hashiras slayed. This time was different though.

Over the past few days, you had overheard one of your fellow hashiras talking about a demon of the twelve kizuki, a hierarchical ranking of only the most strongest demons. More specifically, the fourth Upper Moon. Hantengu. From what you know, Hantengu is a demon that holds great power, despite keeping the appearance of an old, frail man, with a growing bulge on his forehead. His blood demon art enables him to split himself into individual clones of himself and create entities that represent four main emotions : rage, pleasure, joy, and sorrow. Each of them hold their own incredible power through their thoughts and feelings of the main body, Hantengu, or the cowardly emotion of fear. You didn’t know how his demon blood art was activated, but there was only one way to find out.

No other hashira has worked their way up to meet or even seen the fourth Upper Moon, but not even the strongest of your peers were quick enough to act as you did.

There was only one way to prove to them that you are worthy of your status as a fellow hashira, and only one way to finally find your breathing technique, alone, and on your own. That was to find Hantengu and slay him, all of him.

The journey itself proved to be long and boring, as per usual. Yet you refused to think of anything other than Hantengu. Nothing else could take your attention off your sword, all the sharp edges that could seamlessly cut through any demons flesh. It was unbreakable, and it’s never met it’s match before. If Hantengu is who everyone says he is, be heading him would be easier than any task you’ve had, you’re confident.

When you arrive to Hantengu’s hidden location, you’re able to sneak in quietly and quickly, practically merging with the shadows. A faint smell of dust and mothballs fills your senses, an indication of just how untouched the rest of the area must be besides the single room Hantengu would be hiding in. Your eyes follow the ceiling and trace the walls above and you start to search for the demon, not making any sound as you do so. To catch him off guard would give you an even better advantage that you already had, but your element of surprise almost always goes undetected.

You start walking around and looking in possible rooms he could be in, and after a few minutes of searching, you let out a deep sigh and come to the conclusion that Hantengu isn’t here and you wasted your time.

That was, until you stood face to face with Hantengu himself, or what at least appeared to be a miserable, frail demon—fitting his description perfectly. He’s crouched and hiding…under a table? You knew what he was capable of, but looking at the heavy lidded eyes of an emaciated entity, you can’t help but feel pity on it. Just like you’ve done for yourself for so long.

Taking a step forward, your feet glide against the bamboo flooring, crunching down on the thin material. Hantengu, now aware of your presence, skitters backwards and falls on his back. The sight makes you cringe. He sounds like bones clattering. His greasy, shoulder length hair appears to be thinning, and his sad head seems to be deprived of all hair follicles.

You hold your ground. Surely, this had to be Hantengu’s true form. The cowardly nature of such a miserable creature fits how he’s described, but you can’t help but wonder how he’s capable of such power.

He’s covered in veins and wrinkles and his horns are barley larger than the diameter of his arms. If you blew on him, he would vanish.

“What…What are you doing here…you…human?” He sounds unsure of himself, still, his voice squeaking and breaking as if he hasn’t spoken in years.

“My name is Y/n, I know exactly who you are Hantengu.” You point an accusing finger at the shivering demon. He instantly falls to his face and bows his head.

“I know of no such thing! I’m innocent! Completely innocent! You can’t take me away! I did nothing wrong!”

Your eyes flutter as you’re taken off guard. “Uhm. Woah, calm down. This won’t hurt. Jeez…”

Hantengu looks up from his vein clustered hands, pointing a slender finger towards you, “It’s hashiras like you who made me! You! You’re responsible for this! Look at me!” He lurches forward but steps on his black kimono and trips on the throbbing bump on his forehead. He makes a muffled ‘ouch!’ sound and tries getting up, but gets stopped when he realizes his horns pierced through the flooring.

“Just…answer me. Why are you here?” Hantengu plucks himself from the bamboo floor and hunches his back into a protective shell-like posture, almost like a loafing cat, all for security.

“Hantengu of the fourth Upper Moon, I’m sorry, but I have to—“

Suddenly, he cries out, “I don’t wanna die! I don’t wanna! I was hiding from you demon slayers! Why did you go and have to find me! I didn’t do anything wrong!!!”

Your eyebrow twitches. “You’ve taken multiple innocent lives, feasted on their flesh and blood, and now you’re hiding because you’re too scared to admit what you’re doing is wrong. Really fucked up. Don’t you know, or have any bit of consciousness left inside you to know that?”

“No!” He shouts but scurries back into a wall, “I don’t know what you’ve heard but it’s not right! Don’t accuse me of something I didn’t do! That’s wrong! You’re the villain here!”

“I’m no villain!”

“Yuh huh.” Hantengu covers his face with his hands and hides, “You’re trying to kill me!”

“No! Well, yes! But—“

“HA! See! You’re trying to kill me!”

You let out a loud groan that spooks the demon, “I’m going to kill you because all I want is to be someone! I’m not letting you stand in my way of getting what I want.”

He stares at you with his sunken in, red eyes, and through his prominently downward placed eyebrows. “Well, that’s a selfish reason.”

“IT’S NOT!” You stomp your foot and Hantengu screeches, lifting his arm protectively over his face. “I’ll make it quick. This has gone on long enough and you’re fucking annoying.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re so fucking old but you act like a child. Having a tantrum like this, you’re a coward!”

“You act like a child. You’re a coward!”

Hantengu’s mocking pushes off you the edge of insanity. To the point where you can’t take it anymore, he keeps whining and begging for his life, shaking and shivering with the fear that embodies his entire existence. Your head starts to spin.

“Enough! Enough! STOP IT!” You grab onto your sword tighter and fix your stance, “You’re so annoying!”

“No!” He chokes on his tears and coughs, hacking phlegm and saliva onto the tips of your shoes, “I’m not! You are! You aren’t leaving me alone!”

“That’s because—you know what.” You stop talking and bow your head, tilting the nichirin blade of your sword lower down to the demon, “Hantengu of the twelve Upper Moons, rest easy now and don’t ever come back.”

You quickly approach Hantengu, clutching your sword handle in your curled fists. The blinding blade flashes the demons fearful reflection into his eyes and glistens yours on the other side. He opens his mouth to beg for his life one last time, but by the time you see his teeth, the job is already done.

With a swift slice of your sword, you deliver a clean cut blow to the middle of Hantengu’s neck. Just like you trained to do. Seeing all his blood spill out of his neck and head felt good, relieving to say the least since you won’t be able to hear the squeaky, whiny voice of him ever again. His blood paints the walls and every surface it can touch, demon blood soaking the withered bamboo flooring and paper doors. You almost felt bad for making such a mess.

But, when you think it’s finally done and over, suddenly Hantengu’s head smacks against the floor and bounces up, making a disgusting ‘splat!’ sound before remaining afloat in air, giving enough room for his demon blood art to begin.

Hearing all the bones crackling and breaking sends shivers down your spine, squishing and squelching sounds emitting from Hantengu’s new slowly forming body. Unable to look away, you’re forced to watch as a new entity sprouts and grows, rather quickly, from seemingly nothing. Only this time, it was no where near as weak as Hantengu was. This time, the demon forming and standing in front of you was nearly twice your height, and from what you can tell, dressed in nothing but black hakama pants, stronger horns and closed eyes.

That’s all you manage to see before your instincts come in and you start running. Where to? You decide.

> Up the mountains, hopefully fast enough he won’t catch you.

> Into the forest, where you can hide behind the trees to catch a breath.

> Into an open area, where you can have all sorts of ranges and motions.

> Out into a flower field, where hopefully you’ll have an advantage that gives you an upper hand.

#kaicubus #demon slayer #demon slayer fic #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer fanfiction #fanfiction #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #hantengu #hantengu clones #choose your path

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