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btsugarush · 1 year

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GANGSTA | myg - 002

summary: rough sex, blood money, drugs, and gang related activity; four things you never predicted to experience in your simple life. not until you opened your mouth and caught his attention

pairings: gang leader!yoongi x f!reader

warnings: smut, gunplay, drugs, drug addiction, dark!yoongi, drug lord!yoongi, strong language, gang violence, blood and gore, murder, manipulation, possessive/obsessive behavior, abuse, cheating, angst, fluff, dubcon, implied noncon (not from yoongi but within his gang with his knowledge), 18+, minors dni

word count: 3K

author’s note: sorry if you asked to be on the taglist and didn’t make it. i’ve reached over 50 and couldn’t add anymore people. i’ll add more of you in the comments.

“I’m glad you’re okay after all of that,” Jungkook says on the other end of your phone; you had just spilled about the chaotic situation at Makoto as it was still weighing heavily on your mind. You couldn’t shake what Jimin had said about that Yoongi guy killing someone, though it could have just been a rumor. If he had actually taken someone’s life there would be no way they would allow him to walk the streets. He’d be too much of a flight risk.

“You should really be careful in the future. I know you like to stand up for people that can’t stand up for themselves, but Yoongi is bad news. There’s no telling what he would’ve done to you on the wrong day.”

“So you know him too?” You quiz. It seemed as though everyone knew who this guy was besides you. Maybe you don’t get out enough. Or maybe you were just good at staying away from trouble– until this afternoon at least. “I know of him, but not personally. He came to the shop once like five months ago with the same tall guy you were talking about. He told my coworker Si-Woo to step outside, and the next thing you know he's pistol-whipping him nearly to death. Rumor around the shop was that Si-Woo sold drugs for Yoongi, and owed him a lot of money.”

“Really?” Your mouth drops in shock. “What did Si-Woo say about it?”

“He never talked about it, ended up quitting the next day, and told us ‘not to get the police involved because it wouldn’t be of any help and it was all just a misunderstanding’.” He quoted. “Well, three days later Si-Woo’s body was found hacked to pieces and stuffed in a suitcase behind an alley on Gongdan lane.”

You heard about that case on the news some time ago, but had no clue that Jungkook knew the victim on an intimate level. It honestly made you shiver a bit. Imagine being the one to discover the body, and how gruesome the sight must have been. Stuff like that was common in slum areas though. Crime was especially high in Gongdan lane of all places, which is why you made sure to never venture in that area. “You think Yoongi had something to do with his murder?”

Jungkook scoffed. “The guy was viciously pistol-whipping him three days before his body was identified. I know he had something to do with it, but none of us were willing to risk going to the cops, so we just moved on like it didn’t happen.” Jungkook pauses for a moment before he speaks again. “You know… sometimes I think that maybe we could’ve saved his life if we did report the incident. Sometimes I still look at his station and feel like he’s there, tattooing.” He sighs heavily, like it was a great weight lifted from his shoulders to even tell you.

“You did what you felt was necessary. As fucked up as it may seem, you had to think about what was best for you.” You try your best to comfort him as he seemed to hold on to a lot of guilt regarding Si-Woo’s death, and reminiscing didn’t help. To have the man who could have potentially murdered your friend roaming free to terrorize all of Daegu couldn’t be a great feeling. You felt for him.

“I know. It’s just fucked to know he went through such a fucked up death. I don’t even want to imagine how scared he must’ve been,” you could hear clanking on the other end, as though he was biting down on his lip piercing. “I don’t even like the thought of knowing you tangled with them. He seems the type to hold grudges, and I don’t want you to get hurt. I’d lose my shit and go after him myself.”

You smile softly. “And I just know you’d kick his ass, my tough Kookie.” You both laugh at the nickname, which is one of many you had with the word ‘cookie’ in it. You could be so cheesy sometimes, but Jungkook loved everything about it. “You don’t have to worry though, apparently he likes me so maybe I’m in the clear?” You say unsuringly, still not understanding what he meant by it. It was very abrupt and cryptic. “Well whatever he meant, he’s out of luck because you’re spoken for.”

“As if he’d ever had a chance to begin with, I don’t think I’d mesh well with a criminal,” You chuckled. “I’m more into sweet, sensitive guys with tattoos and piercings.”

“Yeah? I think I know someone like that.” You could tell that he’s cheesing on the other end, which made you cheese. Everything always felt so natural with Jungkook. Him being your best friend in high school really played hand in hand with that. He was no different from a lover than he was a best friend. You two were absolutely the same and you loved it.

“You should probably get some sleep now, Angel. You don’t want to go to work exhausted, and I don’t wanna be blamed for you oversleeping again.” You simply roll your eyes in a playful manner, but agree nonetheless. You couldn’t chance being up so late, Mr. Kim was very strict about being on time.

“I guess you’re right,” you pout. “Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow when I get off work.”

“Okay, Angel. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Kookie cake.” You pull your phone from your ear, ending the call before you get up from your bed to switch off your bedroom lights. You crawl back onto the mattress, pulling your blanket over your body. Picking your phone back up again, you swipe through your apps until you locate the clock app. You set your alarm to wake you up at 12:00 PM on the dot. Just as you were about to place your phone down on your nightstand, something overcame you and you got the urge to search Yoongi’s name on Google.

When you type in his name, you are shocked to see so many results come up effortlessly. Several different mugshots from several different instances, all dating from when he was a teenager to one that seemed recent. You click on the one that looks most recent, letting it redirect you to the Daegu booking website.

Name: Min Yoongi

Age: 30

BOOKING DETAIL

Status: Released

Building: Public Safety Building

Area: Maledorm

Booking number: 575857

Booking date: 3/26/2023 11:56:00 pm

ARRESTS

Arrest number: 680071205

Arrest date: 3/26/2023 10:06:00 pm

Arresting agency: Daegu Police Department

Agency case number: 25-18056

ASSAULT WITH A DEADLY WEAPON

ATTEMPTED FIRST-DEGREE MURDER

POSSESSION WITH INTENT TO SELL

You read over the arrests in shock, completely dumbfounded by how a man of his caliber could be released from jail and not behind bars rotting for the rest of his life. He practically lived in jail anyway, why not just keep him there? You eye his mugshot, his intense stare giving you the chills. You didn’t need to wonder how the officer taking the photo must’ve felt considering you too have felt those daggers looking into the depths of your soul.

You pull your sight away from the photo, swiping away the page. You didn’t want to spend any more time on Yoongi. What happened at Makoto is behind you now. You just wanted to forget about the situation, and never run into Yoongi– or Joon for that matter, again. You plug your phone to your charger, sitting the device on your nightstand before you drift off to sleep.

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.” Mr. Kim looks surprised as you step into the kitchen, taking an apron from the hook on the wall. “Why wouldn’t I show up?” You quirk a brow, tying the black fabric around your waist. “Because I thought you would’ve been too scared to show your face after going toe to toe with the devil’s minions the other day.”

You click your tongue, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. You couldn’t believe people were still on that. Just as you walked in you overheard a customer whispering ‘she’s still alive?’ to her friend. It’s absurd at this point. “I think everyone is blowing what happened yesterday way out of proportion.” You shake your head, grabbing a notepad and pen from the pencil holder.

“I’d like to say we are, kid, but you got lucky. That Yoongi is no joke to be played with. The guy is a menace. Some people say the only reason he’s not in jail is because he has affiliations within the police unit, and I wouldn’t doubt if it’s true. Our system is corrupt.” The older man sighs. ‘Oh great, here he goes with politics and corruption again…’ you thought. You had better get out on the floor before you’re caught in a whirlwind of it.

You leave him to discuss the topic with himself as you step out onto the floor, and start taking customer orders. “Hey, you’re that crazy girl from yesterday.” A man says as you approach his table. You frown, already knowing what he was referring to, so you avoid it at all cost. “What can I get you?” You redirect the conversation.

“Oh! Uhhh,” he picks up the menu from his table, skimming through it. “I’ll have the Jajangmyeon.” He answers quickly. You scribble down his order. “Anything to drink?” You ask. “Ginseng tea, thank you.” He places the menu back on the table. You nod, taking down his drink. “Okay, I’ll be right back with that tea.” You smile kindly before heading back to the kitchen. You rip the orders from the notepad, clipping them to the ticket holder.

“Hey, kid. We’ve got a delivery order for dumplings.” Mr. Kim informs you as you’re preparing tea for the customer. The older gentleman approaches you, the order already made and secured in a brown bag. You take the bag from him, looking at the order ticket attached to it.

As you read over the address on the ticket, your eyes practically bulge out of your skull. ‘2357 Gongdan Lane’. “Um… Mr. Kim, this location is in the slums of Daegu.” You look at him with concern. “I know.” The man simply nods, taking the tickets you set from the holder. “Yeah, well, I can’t go to Gongdan lane. It’s dangerous, especially for me as a woman.”

“Look kid, I’m sorry. If Jimin was here I’d have him go but he doesn’t work on Saturdays and you’re my only worker.”

“Exactly. I’m the only worker, you need me to be at the shop taking orders.” You knew that wasn’t going to go over as it was a slow day, and there were hardly any customers in the shop to begin with. “I can handle the customers and cook the ramen until you get back.”

You couldn’t believe this. Just as you had prided yourself in never stepping foot in Gongdan, here was this old dirty bastard making you go. On top of that, the restaurant didn’t even own a company car for deliveries so you had to ride a bike. You read over the ticket again, noticing that there wasn’t even a name on the order. “There’s no name on the order, this could be a trick that ends with me getting robbed for free food.”

“All this time wasted on talking about it could be used on getting the delivery done. Stop complaining and do what you’re paid to do. The faster you get it done, the faster you can come back.”

You wanted to stomp your foot like a child and continue to protest, but you couldn’t risk your job by not listening so you did the only sensible thing you could do. Your job. You grab a plastic bag, shoving the brown one inside of it before leaving through the back exit in the kitchen. You spot the red delivery bike lying on the ground, and pick it up, looping the plastic bag around the bike handle.

As you mount the bicycle, you pull out your phone to use your GPS. The ride was about 12 minutes away. If you ride fast you could undoubtedly make it at least an 8 minute ride. You kick back the breaks and set off on your journey. During the ride as you make it into the slum area, you could truly see the separation from Sangsu-dong to Gongdan lane. The sidewalks were cracked and unpaved, the buildings looked more rundown, and homeless people laid out in sleeping bags.

You got an uneasy feeling as you noticed a group of men smoking weed on a corner and intensely watching you go by. You probably stood out like a sore thumb, riding through Daegu’s slummiest on a red bike. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your eyes forward as you paid them no mind. As you continue going, you notice the streets become more isolated. Your GPS directs you to turn, which you follow only to come upon a big warehouse that looked abandoned. ‘You’ve arrived’, your GPS says. You furrow your brows, confusion written over your face.

“Stupid thing must’ve sent me to the wrong location.” You grab the bag of dumplings from the bike handle, circling around the warehouse just in case you were mistaken. You find a door on the other end, cameras surrounding it like it was a government building. You inspect the door, seeing that there was a red button of some sort on it.

You scope the perimeter, making sure no one was trying to sneak attack you. The whole thing seemed completely sketchy. You take a deep breath before pressing down on the button, a loud buzz coming from it. You take a step back, waiting for someone to come open the door. You stood there for about two minutes, not wanting to wait around any longer. You knew this was a scam. You should’ve just gone home and pretended like you delivered the food. It would’ve saved you the trouble. As you turn to walk back to the bike, the door suddenly opens with a loud creaking sound.

You direct your attention back to the door, locking eyes with an individual that you dreaded to ever see again. “Oh my god… i-it’s you…” you stutter in shock, seeing Yoongi stand in the doorway with a smirk plastered on his face. “Wonder Woman, we meet again.”

You’re silent, not really saying a word as you feel too stunned to speak. “You got something for me, sweetheart?” His eyes darted to the bag in your hand. You snap from your fearful trance, remembering why you were there in the first place. “Uh… yeah. Here’s your order.” You stretch out your arm to hand him the bag, not wanting to come any closer. The raven reaches forward, his hand brushing yours as he takes the bag from you. You quickly turn away, rushing back over to your bike.

“Hey, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself yesterday.” He says, following behind you. “I already know who you are.” You mumble as you mount the red two wheeler. “Really? You didn’t seem to know who I was yesterday. If you did, you wouldn’t have shot your pretty mouth off like that,”

He grabs the handles of your bike, preventing you from leaving. “You look scared. Guess my reputation precedes me.” He says almost too proudly. “Not in a way that a decent human being should want it to, but I guess decency isn’t what you’re aiming for.” you say slickly, which causes the raven to smile. “There goes that smart mouth again,” he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, giving you the same predatory stare from yesterday. “Normally I wouldn’t tolerate anyone getting slick at the mouth with me, but from you it’s kind of a turn on.”

You scowl, ignoring his sexual advance. “Can you let go of my bike? I need to get back to work.”

“How about you let me drive you?” he offers, but you quickly decline. You’d be an idiot to get in the car with a proclaimed murderer. “I’ll take my chances on the bike, thank you.” The raven lets go of the handles, taking a step back to allow you to be on your way. “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

You kick back the break, not wanting to waste any more of your time in Gongdan speaking to this thug. You back away from him, turning the bike to ride down the path you came. “I hope to see you again, Y/N.” He calls out. You come to an abrupt stop, looking back at the raven. How did he know your name? “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn’t need to. I have my sources and connections, Princess. Whatever I need or want, I get.”

You cringe at the nickname ‘princess’. Jungkook doesn’t even call you that, with all the cheesy nicknames he does use. Him knowing your name suddenly made you question how coincidental this whole encounter was. You were starting to wonder how much about you he knew. As if he read your mind, he starts to read you like an autobiography. “You were born in Busan and raised right here in Daegu, you’re an ex nursing student, an only child, both your parents passed away in a tragic car accident, your best friend is Sang Mina, and your boyfriend is… Jeon Jungkook? Am I right?”

Your heart pounds against your chest as he spoke information that only people close to you would know. You felt sick, creeped out even, but you tried not to display that on your face. “So, I guess you know my work schedule then. You set this little encounter up knowing that I was the only worker today, didn’t you?” the raven simply shrugged like he couldn’t answer whether that was true or not, but you knew that it was. “I don’t know what your deal is, but just stay away from me, okay?”

Yoongi sneered, as he turned on his heels, heading back to the door from once he came. The raven makes sure he gets the last word though.

“I can’t make you any promises, sweetheart. Like I said, whatever I want, I get.”

Taglist

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matan4il · 3 months

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Daily update post:

A terrorist in the PIJ (Palestinian Islamic Jihad) has admitted in his interrogation that they practiced for the Oct 7 massacre on Iranian soil. This is important to remember, that it wasn't just Hamas that committed the vicious attack on Israelis during that day, that the Islamist regime in Iran's involvement was crucial to what happened, and that Gaza was NEVER "an open air prison" as the anti-Israel crowd claimed. The above link has the vid quoted here.

Yesterday, Golani infantry's division 36 has left a section in northern Gaza, as a part of lowering the intensity of the fighting there. A short while later, no less than 50 rockets were fired from exactly that area into southern Israel. Yoram Bitan's shop in the southern town of Netivot took a direct hit from a rocket while he and his son were still inside (pic is from this vid, where the start also shows the barrages of rockets over Netivot). They're both thankfully okay, the building absorbed most of the impact.

Just this morning, at least 25 more rockets were fired from that area of Gaza into Israel, before IDF soldiers managed to find and destroy some of the rocket launchers that were used in these attacks (see pic with just one barrage of intercepted rockets over Israel on the horizon, Hebrew source). If Israel can't lower the intensity of the fighting, that's absolutely also because of Hamas' continued choices. Israeli civilians from the south are currently protesting against the possibility that Israel will stop the war before the complete removal of the threat of rockets being fired from Gaza.

The IDF has confirmed yesterday that it has eliminated more than 150 Hezbollah squads since the start of the war.

I got to watch an interview with Shirley (not necessarily her real name), who was a prison guard where Palestinian terrorists were held. She was sexually harassed by a terrorist called Muhammad Atallah for 2 years. Towards the end of her service at this prison, he told her that her life is being threatened by Amjad Awad, a Palestinian terrorist, who murdered the Fogel family when he was 18 years old, together with his relative, 17 years old Hakim Awad. These are 35 years old Ruti, 36 years old Udi, 11 years old Yoav, 4 years old Elad and 3 months (!) old Hadas in Mar 2011. Amjad and Hakim were actually on their way out of the house, when they heard baby Hadas crying in her crib, returned and murdered her (Hebrew source).

You can hopefully understand why Shirley was terrified when she heard Awad wanted to kill her, and Atallah claimed he could keep her safe, using this to try and rape her in a spot between two gates in the prison where there are no cameras. She fought back and saved herself. Atallah, who is imprisoned for attempted murder and murder as part of his terrorist activity, was put on trial back in 2022 for sexual harassment of Shirley and attempted rape, as well as for raping another female prison guard.

But in the interview I listened to yesterday, Shirley talked about how horrified she is over the possibility that Awad and Atallah might be freed in a hostage deal, where Hamas will demand terrorists with "blood on their hands" be released.

Last night, the IDF presented the findings of an investigation into the cause of death of 3 hostages, whose bodies were retrieved from Gaza. The autopsy determined that they were NOT killed by direct IDF or terrorists fire, but the bodies are in such a state, that it's impossible to determine what did kill them.

These are Michal and her husband Alex Lubnov.

Alex worked as a bartender at the Nova music festival on Oct 7. He was kidnapped to Gaza. Michal is seven months pregnant. This week, she visited the site from which Alex was kidnapped for the first time. She's waiting for her husband to be freed, and be with her at the delivery room.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

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Silence can never be bought, only rented.

pt. 2 of 6, 2.5k | dbf!Joel x fem!reader | 18+

picks up after Pt 1 . Story Master List

Joel Miller List

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat. As he pulls his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak.

Thank you @dark-scape for the mini mood boards!

Warnings/notes: no-outbreak AU. Reader confident in string bikini, there may be more to joel than meets the eye. Legal age gap. Masturbation. cumshot. Kinda dom reader. i don't know all triggers, not used to detailed warnings in my usual fandoms sorry

NEXT: PART 3

Catch up on Part 1

-----

It's June in Texas. You packed your swimsuit this weekend. You don't know why Joel would wear a jacket in this weather anyway. Hopefully he doesn't fuck your stepmother while he's breaking it off. In the big scheme of things, one more time wouldn't make much of a difference. It's more about the fact that he's your property now.

Back at your friend's place, you plug in your phone across the room while you settle in to watch another movie. Her new sound system is badass, so you don't hear it when your phone rings, but she does.

She’s a lot closer to it than you are, so you tell her she can send it to voicemail. She leans over and looks at the screen.

“Joel." Her eyes widen. "DILF Joel??”

You scrunch your face up. “Gross, he's like 50.”

“Okay, what does non-DILF Joel want?” She rightfully uses finger quotes around "non." In the back of your mind, you always knew Joel was hot. It turns out, you had no idea.

You sigh, “Probably just checking on me while my Dad is away.” You're tempted to tell her–at least the part where Joel is fucking your stepmother–but for now, you don't. You enjoy being the only one who knows and could ruin both of them.

“So why not answer?”

“Guess I just don’t feel like talking.”

She looks at you sympathetically. She knows why you came home this weekend. You needed a change of scenery after things got messy with a guy you were seeing. “I get it,” she says. “But I promise you’re gonna be over him before you know it. Then on to the next,” she smiles.

If only it were that easy. You really don’t feel like going back and facing life. Technically Chad is right, you never defined your relationship or agreed to be exclusive. But you spent so much time together, and he said he loved you. You know he’s a chode and not at all worth your tears. You just hate feeling so powerless. On the plus side, you've barely thought about Chad at all since the moment you first saw Joel's truck this weekend.

Your phone dings. Your friend looks at it.

“Who leaves voicemail?” she asks. It dings again and her face gets serious. "Oh, shit. You should really call him. He said Trouble."

"That's just what he calls me." You suppress a smirk at the nominal determinism.

"Oh, yeah. Ugh. I hate that I'm gonna miss the HOG barbecue this year. "

HOG. . . Hot Old Guy. She really tickles herself pink with that. Your dad and Joel cook out at Joel's pool every independence day with a couple of other friends, and you normally bring her.

Your phone dings again. She looks at the screen and side-eyes it.

"What?" You ask

"You should block Chad."

You feel a rush of satisfaction followed by shame as you eagerly go over and look at the phone.

Chad: miss u already.

In a way, it’s the best possible message, but seeing the dumb way he writes, your shame is replaced by anger.

"God what an asshole," you fume. You don't respond.

You finish watching the movie, and eventually start catching up on Joel's texts. Come out and talk to me for one minute. A pit forms in your stomach. He was here? Are you that predictable?

When it's time to leave and you get to your car, there's a note. It's the same one you left on Joel's truck, the one that said You're sick. There's a response scrawled under your writing:

You have no idea.

Your heart races as you look around the street. How dare he? And why are your cheeks burning?

You start driving back to your apartment. It’s well under two hours away, it's still afternoon, and you don’t know what you'll do with the day when you get back. Laundry, you guess. You can hardly bear the thought of being back there alone with your thoughts.

Instead of 35 South to San Antonio, you find yourself on Joel's street. Joel is a successful contractor and has a nice house. Comically high-security, too. Today, the gate is already disarmed, so you don't have to put in the code or talk to him. You park in his big wraparound driveway, grab your bag, and head around back. The pool gate is disarmed, too. You enter the code to the pool house door.

When you walk in, the air conditioning blasts on and it's freezing. Kind of obnoxious in a state with a power grid crisis. You throw your stuff down on the big couch, not bothering to go any further. You strip down to your underwear, ass facing the window. Then you put your swimsuit cover-up over your underwear. Feigning modesty, you take your underwear out from under the cover-up and replace it with your two-piece.

When you come out, Joel is sitting in a zero gravity lounge chair across the pool in front of the big glass windows of his house. When you see him, your heart skips a beat, even though it’s no surprise. It’s like when you’ve been thinking about someone so much they practically become a celebrity in your mind, even if they don’t deserve it.

You bring your bag out to the deck and sit across the pool from him. He’s wearing the same tight, blue t-shirt and jeans. Now he has on Ray Bans and flip flops instead of boots.

You slather your sunscreen on as he watches. He doesn't bother pretending not to watch. You slip your hands inside the cups of your bikini top, lotioning up your breasts. He adjusts himself, which sends a tingling rush to your core.

Once your sunscreen is dry, you wade into the pool. You walk around aimlessly, then swim over to his side, keeping your head above water. When you get to the edge, you rest your forearms on the deck, then put your head down on the crook of your arm and float your legs behind you.

“Come to give me my jacket?” he asks.

“I don’t know how you’re wearing jeans, much less a jacket." You lift your head to look at him.

“You’re right, it’s gettin’ hot." he starts unbuckling his belt and your heart skips a beat.

He stands up, and as he's pulling his tight jeans down over his bulge, his boxers start to come with them, revealing a small, circular scar, then a sliver of neatly trimmed salt and pepper hair. The glimpse makes your knees weak. He pulls the elastic waistband up and leaves the boxers on. He sits down again and crosses his ankles.

You ask, “How’d it go?”

“Oh, about how you’d expect.”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Does it matter?”

“You’re gonna tell me everything I ask.”

“Few months. Look, Trouble, I’m human at best. She came onto me.”

“Knew you’d say that.”

“What if I could prove it?”

You don’t say anything. He takes out his phone and scrolls for a while, then brings it to the edge of the pool. You watch his heavy quads quake with each step but avert your eyes while he bends his knees. You have no interest in seeing his balls or anyone else’s. His boxers tighten around his muscular thighs as he sits down and lowers his feet into the pool right next to you.

“There,” he says, handing you his phone. You can barely see in the sunlight and don’t really care who initiated it anyway.

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend?” you ask.

“You wanna set me up?” he smiles. “Got any single friends?”

“Why don’t you ask Sarah? She’s older than me.”

He grabs his chest like you shot him. Sweat is blotching his softwash t-shirt already.

You hand his phone back.

"There's one inside for you," he says. "It's on the counter." He gestures through the window.

"One what?"

"iPhone pro. Since you can't seem to answer whatever piece of crap you're using."

"What do I need an iphone pro for?"

"They didn't have the regular one in blue."

Your favorite color is a nice touch, but an iPhone isn't going to make this all go away.

"How’s it goin’ with what’s his name?”

“Chad? It’s not.” You hate him for bringing up Chad. You harden your face, but it isn't convincing.

Joel nods regretfully and there's a long moment of silence.

“You’re better than him, Trouble."

You don't say anything.

"Shit, you can have any guy you want.”

You can't see his eyes behind his shades, but something in his voice tells you how hungrily he's looking at you.

You still don't say anything.

Joel stretches his leg and the top of his foot grazes your quad, then your inner thigh. All your blood rushes to your loins. You don't move. He strokes your other inner thigh with the arch of his foot, getting a little higher with each pass. A tent forms in his boxers and he adjusts himself again.

“See what you do to guys?” The top of his foot brushes your crotch and you throb. When he tries to slip a toe inside the fabric, you float out of reach.

“You’re not a guy, you're a grown man.”

"Exactly. And he's just a guy."

"A grown man and a pervert." A wave of anger hits you when you remember your stepmother. "And apparently you'll fuck anything."

If he's still listening, he ignores it.

“God damn. Look at you.” He shamelessly palms himself over his boxers and suddenly his body is the only thing on your mind again: The way his naked ass flexed while he looked at you. The length of his cock slamming into her when he came. And now it's right there for your taking. Your core churns needily, slickening itself for what it desperately wants. Too bad he doesn't deserve it.

“Yeah. . . ” Your hands slowly reach behind your back to unfasten your top as you sink down into the water. "Look at me," you echo as you take the halter over your head.

You lie back with your nipples above the water line, lazily floating and barely pushing yourself around in the water, watching him watch you.

He takes a deep breath and his lips part. He digs the heel of his palm into his boxers. You grip the deck with one hand. You hover just far away enough that he can't touch you. He picks up his phone, swipes it, puts it down. He exhales through pursed lips and adjusts himself again.

"Take it out," you tell him, then lean back, jutting your tits into the air again.

"Yes ma'am," he growls.

He reaches into his boxers and holds his hard cock with the tip pointed toward you.

"The whole thing." You nod at it.

He pulls the fabric back.

"Now take your hands away."

"God almighty," he groans as he complies. He sits back with his hands on the pool deck.

Big mistake if your goal is to stay in control. This is going to take more restraint than you thought.

"Take off your sunglasses," you demand.

The sky is getting cloudy enough. He complies.

It’s the only cock you’ve ever seen that actually makes you salivate. Thick, slightly tapered, circumcised, prominent tip. Salt and pepper peeking out from the fabric and creeping up the base. You recall for the hundredth time how he felt pressed up against you by your car the night before.

Your nipples harden and his cock bounces on its own. He inhales deeply through his nose, his chest stretching his sweaty t-shirt. You wet your lips and he exhales loudly. You approach his knees and rest your hands on his thighs, letting your nipples graze his shins. His phone buzzes and he ignores it.

A bead of precum grows at the head of his cock. He clenches his jaw.

“Go ahead,” you tell him as you back away. He gathers the precum with his thumb and begins to stroke himself slowly. He’s proportional - His massive hand is a good fit.

“I’m gonna put this back on in two minutes,” you tell him, dangling your swimsuit top in your hand.

He shakes his head slowly. “Yeah, you would.”

He looks down at himself then back up at you. His eyes darken. The vein on his hand makes you weak - his big, masculine hand wrapped around his thick cock. . .

His breath becomes ragged, his eyelids get heavy.

You disappear below the water, and when you resurface, you come to the edge of the pool between his legs. You plant your hands just above his knees and inhale his musk from several inches away as you watch.

“Thirsty?” he breathes.

“Hell no. Just wanna see what a sicko's cum looks like.”

He smirks, then it fades. The dark, hungry look on his face makes you breathe heavier, throb harder, and twitch.

His ass clenches and he points the tip directly at your neck, then he groans as a hot, white rope meets your collarbone and the halter tie. A few more ropes gurgle into his fist.

“Gross,” you say. But you ache for him so badly. “You know, a gentleman always asks.”

“I'm a sicko, remember?" He dips his hand in the pool, shakes it around, then wipes his hands on his boxers and puts his dick away. "Give me a minute."

You dip your head under the halter tie of your bikini top to put it back on, but you let it float, not covering your breasts. He pushes himself up and grabs his phone. He looks at it and says under his breath, "gotcha, pendejo.” Then tells you, "I've gotta make a call." He pulls on his jeans but leaves them unbuckled. Somehow, that’s even hotter than his pantsless look, but you’re miffed that he got dressed so quickly.

You would've made him take off his shirt, but you love the way it stretches with every move he makes. Half of it is dark with sweat now. His back is a sight to behold as he walks over to the watertight, faux wicker box with the dry towels. You squeeze your thighs together and clench around nothing.

He pulls out two perfectly folded towels and you wonder out loud, "Are you fucking your maid, too?"

"Not this one," he says matter of factly. He drops a towel on the deck near you, then goes into the house.

He stands in his large window, spreads his feet as he does something on his phone, then looks at you as a water jet blasts into your thigh right at crotch level.

How devious of him.

You shift your hips slightly, just like he knew you would, and try to manage your best poker face as you let the jetstream carry you over the edge. You close your eyes before they roll back in your head. Your core implodes and your whole body pulses as a much-needed orgasm is wrenched out of you. Your mouth falls slack and you open your eyes in time to see him watching you with his phone to his ear. He smirks as the jetstream fades, then walks away.

You lay your head in the crook of your arm and let your bikini float near your breasts as you recover, with the occasional aftershock. Then, you hear his truck start up and drive away. Asshole.

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bubblergoespop · 24 days

Text

My Top Aaron Quotes

men who are just constantly tired of everything>>>>>

“Well buckle up, wiz kid.”

“So yeah, I am gonna miss you. I’m really gonna miss you.”

“Sue me. Except don’t. My brain is already fried from the financials, I don’t need to throw legalese on top of that.”

“Fuck it. There’s nothing in here I can’t replace. I want you."

“Oliver”

“I didn’t say I wanted to spend the day with you, I asked if you wanted to spend the day with me. I asked first.”

"Ell"

“Hey, stop it. Because you know how much I like you running your fingers through my hair. Makes my brain go all fuzzy.”

“I appreciate it. And you.”

“Oh, it’s not playing dirty. It’s just me making you feel good.”

“I didn’t realise I was apparently dating an anthropomorphic backpack.”

“H-hey—stop it. You—no, your kisses are just… it tickled. Shut up. So what if my sides are ticklish, it’s not like that’s weird, you shit.”

“Oh, and now you can’t even find the strength to lift your head out of my lap, hmm? You poor thing. Who knew that being lazy could be so exhausting?”

“I love you very much. Now get off me.”

“You talked a big talk back then. But it turns out you’re just a cuddle-hungry softy after all, huh? Yes you are. At least when you’re still sleepy, anyway.”

“I also know you’re probably the kind to fly off half-cocked and make me chase you down with the SPF 50 like a madman. If for no other reason than to infuriate me.”

“Come here. Come closer. Because I said so.”

“I love you. And I love rain. And I love being with the person I love while it rains. Isn’t that a fun little combo?”

“You are very cute looking up at me like that.”

“Or is the thought of a few more minutes in my arms that much of an imposition? Asshole. Mmm. I love you too.”

“I can’t even try to say a nice thing without you having to get some snark into it, can I? No, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You brat. I love you just as you are.”

“You make me better. And that’s no small order when you’re talking about me, given the high level I already started at.”

“A man’s gotta eat. And you’ve always been my favorite thing on the menu.”

“Oh yes, you’re so put upon. Your evil boyfriend only makes you a whole breakfast spread, he won’t then also let you sleep in even later than you already have.”

“Eli”

“Yes, in a shocking twist, I do find your absence unpleasant. Perish the thought, right?”

“Time spent with the people I care about is important to me. It doesn’t have to be time doing anything special, it doesn’t have to be conversations about our future or some greater purpose or any of that shit, I just want to be with the person that I’m with.”

“Sure, there are plenty of ways to sleep on a couch just fine. It’s your hybrid approach that lands somewhere between gymnast and pretzel that tends to get you in trouble.”

“You’re okay. It’s gonna be okay.”

“If it feels like it's coming on again, come tell us, okay?”

“I only met them a handful of times. They're sweet. They laugh a lot. They spent most of the time giving Elliott shit, it was funny. Not in like a mean way, like the way you do when you love somebody that much. They were a good balance for one another.”

“God I sound old. And I feel old. And I’m not, but it feels like it. A grumpy old man. Might as well start yelling at kids to not play so loud in the neighborhood, really complete the image.”

“Stop calling me an old man, only I’m allowed to call me old. Don’t be mean. I’m in a vulnerable state. I need baseless praise.”

“Yes. Holding you feels very productive.”

“Yeah. Let me just rub it on that pretty face for a little bit…”

“ It’d be fine. Almost as fine as you. I’m tired, I’m allowed to be stupid.”

“El, I have never hated you. You’re my little brother, I love you.”

“No the windows are mirrored glass. You should know that, you worked here.”

“Whose is it? Louder”

“Thank you baby. Yeah, thank you for trusting me like you do. […] All I wanna do is prove myself worthy of that trust.”

#haven’t don’t one of these in a while #been busy okay #redacted aaron #bubbler’s top quotes #redacted audio #redacted asmr #redactedverse

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kiragecko · 5 months

Text

A few weeks ago, I flew to visit my grandma with my little brother and sister. My little brother had never been on a plane, and my sister only has once, almost a decade ago. It was an experience.

All three of us are in our 30s and neurodivergent¹. My little brother has Down’s Syndrome² and is probably autistic. He communicates mostly through echolalia³.

I suspected there might be challenges, so I tried to contact the airline before purchasing tickets. This did NOT work. The Westjet agents weren’t allowed to discuss anything with me until I had booked a flight. I was purchasing nonrefundable tickets. The website was quite clear that they could kick us from the plane if they couldn’t support our needs. And they wouldn’t tell me if they could support our needs!

I ended up calling around 8 times. Finally, after purchasing tickets and jumping through all the hoops, someone was willing to talk. They mostly said that everything was up to the people letting us on to the flight, but at least they talked to me!

My main concern was the pacing. My brother’s favourite activity is pacing in circles and repeating movie/song quotes to himself. Once we got on the plane things would be fine (we had movies for him to watch), but I was concerned that other passengers waiting to board would find this stressful. Like - that isn’t our problem, it’s their’s - but flying is hard! If there was a way for us to not add more stress, I wanted to find it!

The airline was zero help, so we did our best to prepare on our own. My uncle died the day before the trip, and that increased stress levels. My autistic sister was dealing with that, a sense of responsibility for my brother, and also anxiety about a mostly-new experience (flying).

And then the plane gets delayed.

By an hour, at first.

The airline said we should be there TWO HOURS early for domestic flights. Which is ridiculous. TWO HOURS??? Especially since everything before security can now be done online? But we obediently turn up two hours before the new flight time, and are immediately directed to the priority security line. Which is good. Even the short line is boring for my brother, and I can’t let him pace in the few open spaces. But ten minutes later we’re at our gate, ready to leave.

Now we just have to wait for an hour and fifty minutes!

We had hoped my brother would want to watch his first movie. But he's riled up from lines and crowds and gets right to pacing. A few people have to slow down as they pass, but he’s not hurting anyone, so I let him be.

I’m more worried about my sister, now. She lives with the aunt that found my uncle. She hasn’t slept in days, worrying about the trip. She isn’t handling the noise and crowds. So I keep an eye on my brother (at least 50% to make sure he doesn’t take some of the chocolate he keeps eyeing when he passes the gift shop), occasionally ask if he wants to watch a movie, and watch my sister slowly descend into a panic attack. Not fun. Eventually I send her to the bathroom, hoping that it will be quieter and she can calm down.

BUT! Events have happened during this time! The plane has been delayed another 15 minutes! It is explained that they have had to replace the plane with one they haven’t yet finished retrofitting. This new plane doesn’t have as much overhead baggage space. They need at least 15 pieces of carry-on luggage to be checked. If the passangers aren’t willing to do this, there will be large delays once loading starts, as people are FORCED to check their luggage. Also, there’s no first class on the new plane. Or charging ports. Or meals. Or in-flight entertainment. First class passengers can request some money back. And if anyone misses their connecting flight due to the delays, tickets to their new flights will be provided upon landing.

People start to get tired and stressed. The intercom keeps threatening them. Now it’s 30 bags that need to be checked. Delays will be even longer if this doesn’t happen!

At this point, security shows up. They ask if anyone will take responsibility for the pacing guy. I do. They show visible discomfort with the situation, and his disability. Can I make him stop pacing? I can try, but probably not. Please do that, it is bothering the other passengers. Oh? Really?? Who could have guessed that?!

My brother is NOT willing to sit down. We stand in the concourse, while I talk to him about sitting down and he makes annoyed sounds at me. I’m not about to force him. I don’t want us to get kicked out of the airport, but can they do that for something as minor as acting weird in public? Mostly, I’m worried about all our electronics, which I abandoned in the open when security showed up. I’m not sure if security will try something with my brother if I leave him to pace while I clean things up.

And now, the hero shows up. The head of security has been called, and he comes over and asks me if there’s anything my brother needs. No, there isn’t, he’s quite happy to pace. It’s everyone else that is being bothered.

“I don’t care about them. He has just as much right to this space as they do. I just want to make sure you guys have everything you need. Would he like a sensory package?”

He wouldn’t like a sensory package, but this guy’s offer of the chapel as a quiet space IS interesting. Mostly because my sister is off in sensory shut-down somewhere, and needs a quiet space. But also because I could relax a little nobody would be watching us, and I could relax if my brother had an enclosed room to pace in. (No chocolates!)

As I’m agreeing to this, my sister returns. Head of Security respectfully tries to explain the situation to her. I look at her hunched body language and tell him to just talk to me. Then I send her to pack up our stuff. He wants to Include Her. She really, really does not want to be included.

He also wants to Include my brother. It’s kind of cute. He’s overflowing with good intentions, but obviously hasn’t had a lot of chance to put them into practice yet. He’s incredibly respectful, but in ways that would work a bit better for people who are more interested in their own decision making than my brother. I’m charmed.

Another person shows up. She is introduced as the Accessibility Specialist, and we are asked if we’re okay with her support. Oh yes, I am very okay with this. After she gets caught up - and she reiterates that everyone else can suck it, my brother is allowed to inhabit this space how he wishes - we get ready to head for the chapel. But the plane is about to land. There probably isn’t enough time to transition there and then back. So instead, we all wait around and listen to our two heroes conspire.

Accessibility Specialist has had the job for a month. Or, at least, she's been PAID to do this job for a month. She's been doing it unofficially much longer. She has IDEAS. So that’s where all the unpolished We Respect Everyone energy is coming from. Head of Security is one of her co-conspirators!

In-between plotting, Accessibility Specialist asks me questions. She hears about the amount of phonecalls, and the unsatisfactory answers. The complete lack of support. The fact that I had told the airline that this exact situation was likely to happen, and then got security called on us anyways. She tells me that this information is very helpful. Her plans will benefit from specific examples.

She tells me how unsatisfactory it is to have to send people to the chapel. They're pushing for a quiet room. I agree that this would have been helpful. My brother would probably have been calmer in a quiet space, which would have helped us AND reduced the stress for others. (Also, both me and my sister would have benefited from the quiet. But I didn’t say that.)

In all the commotion, I’ve forgotten to talk to the boarding people about priority boarding. But Accessibility Specialist is on the ball! We stand off to the side, behind a rope, while the plane disembarks. (My brother starts off pacing RIGHT in the way of the disembarkment, so sneaking into the roped off area is a good idea.) We’re going to be the very first ones to board, even before the people in wheelchairs. I pray that my brother is willing to walk onto the plane – he hasn’t been willing to follow me since we got out of security.

The boarding people are on their best behaviour. They make a special trip over to us to scan our tickets. They send someone down the ramp to check on the plane’s status. We are now VIPs. And we seem to have made the Accessibility Specialist’s day. She is so SMUG as she whispers with the Head of Security!

They ask if we’re okay with them accompanying us to the plane. Sure! I’m having a great time watching their excitement. It’s changed a very difficult experience into a pleasurable one. (For me. They are thankfully respecting my sister’s desire to be ignored. She is still not having fun. And my brother is pretty done with this experience. He’s found some quotes about ‘going home’ and ‘not doing this’ to share with me.)

Finally, we get the nod. My brother calmly follows us down the ramp. We get to the plane and are asked to pause for a moment while they finish moving some storage carts around. Seems reasonable to me, but Accessibility Specialist darts forward and takes photos, documenting SOMETHING. And then we get on the plane.

The plane itself would have been great. My brother happily took a seat. Enjoyed looking out the windows. And was excited to watch Shrek. My sister relaxed. And I LOVE flying. But, sadly, electronics must be stowed during liftoff and landing. My brother did NOT take these unreasonable demands from me well. He eventually forgave me for the take-off misdemeanor, especially after I put on my own headphones and quoted the movie with him. But my sins at landing were too much. For half an hour after he left the airport, he kept repeating, “NO more flying!” and “Not like this!” Any comments about flying for the next day got his hackles up.

So, I won’t do that to him again. But it was a very interesting experience for me! I am glad I got to have it.

And if anyone has flown through Winnipeg’s Richardson International Airport⁴ in the last while, and wants to tell them about any good or bad accessibility experiences, I think there’s someone there that would appreciate it. I want to see what she can accomplish.

PS. She’s also started a program where you can practice getting ready to board a plane! You sign up and they take you through the whole experience, from signing in to walking the boarding ramp. (Or, possibily, just whichever portion is concerning you.) I wish I had thought to contact the airport itself, rather than just contacting the airline and looking at the government’s resources. Good things are happening there.

¹ neurodivergent – brain works in a non-typical way

² Down’s Syndrome – an intellectual disability

³ echolalia – communication by repeating/echoing things heard, either right after hearing them, or a long time later

⁴ Winnipeg is in Manitoba, Canada

#accessibility #disabilities #airplanes #airports #I got a response from her yesterday #after sending in feedback (so she'd have more documented examples)#saying she's going to be 'sharing it widely'#so I decided I'd tell this story one more time #she deserves to succeed

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svsss-fanon-exposed · 5 months

Text

Welcome!

This is your official-unofficial source for all things SVSSS fanon-debunking! As a veteran reader of MXTX's least popular novel and someone with a PhD in SVSSS literature, I have taken on the arduous task of separating fact from fiction... or well, specifically, canon from fanon.

《 Disclaimer: The purpose of this blog is textual analysis, not to tell people what fanon or canon material to use or not to use in their fanworks, or to make moral judgments on the way people interpret the text. Please see my faq and psa tags for more about my views on the matter. 》

There is a significant affliction within this fandom, where fanon ideas are assumed to be canonical facts-- to the point where sometimes fanon will even end up on the official SVSSS wiki 😱😱😱!!!

I've met quite a lot of people who are surprised to find out that something they think is canon is actually fanon, and even a few that are the other way around, so I've decided to start this blog to help people sort it out!

My credentials and qualifications are as follows:

PhD in SVSSS literature (awarded to me by a disgruntled SJ apologist).

A good minimum of 50-75% of available brain-space devoted to SVSSS at all times

Consummate knowledge of minute lore details

Near-memorization of a good portion of the novel, with the added ability to find any quote within 10 minutes of searching (in both EN and CN)

Author of a fic that is currently over 300k words long and counting, which was originally written out of spite for fanon portrayals of certain characters and themes

The ability to write 5k+ rants about any given topic in the space of an afternoon

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How this blog works:

You, dear reader, send in a suspected fanon topic to my askbox. Or perhaps it's something you suspect to be canon, but would like confirmation on.

I will then write a post on this topic (on no set schedule, I go as the wind takes me~), first applying a rating (more details below), then adding further information as needed. Topics with either support or rebuttal in canon will have quoted evidence presented, those without either of those things will simply have a brief explanation.

I will also add some analysis or potential interpretations and readings but I will do my best not to add my pure opinions to these posts-- this blog is about textual evidence! So, do not reblog my posts to argue with me based on your headcanons! If you want to argue against one of my posts, provide a quoted source from the novel!

Otherwise, I will most likely block you :>

Any hateful content or attempts to start fandom wank on my posts or in my inbox will get deleted and blocked. Anyone who provides textual evidence that changes my rating or analysis will be very much appreciated and receive the Golden Cucumber Award.

At the end of the day, this blog is entirely about canonical textual analysis and has no bearing whatsoever on what people want to headcanon or use in their fics. It's fandom. Do Whatever You Want Forever. Who am I to say you can't use a certain headcanon?

Just please treat headcanons as headcanons. No matter how deeply-entrenched into fanon they may be, they're still not canon and shouldn't be treated as such.

If you're of the mind that you'll still do whatever you want without regards for canon, then you're probably not the intended audience for this blog. If you're someone who wants to clarify whether a popular idea has a basis in canon or not, then read on to learn more about the rating system and see already-discussed topics!

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Rating System

WHAT DO I CONSIDER CANON? (please read before commenting)

Each exposed fanon or canon will receive a rating and analysis. The ratings are interpreted as follows:

CANON - This fact is directly or indirectly supported by the text! If you want to stay true to canon, this should be treated as fact.

FANON - SUPPORTED - Though the text doesn't directly state this is true, it is a very likely interpretation based on various factors including historical precedent and cultural norms, genre tropes, and the occam's razor principle.

FANON - NEUTRAL - The text neither confirms or denies this. It may be true or it may be false, and the matter is entirely up for interpretation. Many fanon will likely fall into this category, and whether you adopt it or not won't affect how true to canon your interpretations are.

FANON - UNSUPPORTED - While the text may not be directly against this headcanon, it is still an unlikely interpretation based on various factors including historical precedent and cultural norms, genre tropes, and the occam's razor principle.

FANON - CONFLICTING - The text goes directly against this interpretation, and there are quotes that prove it to be incorrect. If you wish to stay true to canon, it's best not to include this idea.

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Awards:

I will give out three awards on this blog for those who assist me in keeping fanon and canon separate!

The Bronze Cucumber Award will be given to anyone who reblogs my post and adds significant additional context in support of/explaining my analysis. This may be textual context or "support" context (cultural norms/historical precedence/genre tropes/etc.). Since this fandom likes to analyze, I will only be giving out this award to those who specifically add details and ideas that are not rooted in my original analysis (such as, a quote from a completely different part of the book, or a linguistic explanation that provides context), rather than those who simply expand on what I already wrote.

The Silver Cucumber Award will be given to those who reblog one of my analysis posts with a source telling the origin of a particular fanon idea. This is wonderful for archival purposes-- just as it's good to see where canon ideas come from, it can also be helpful to know where a fanon idea originated, in order to have proper context. Only the first responder to provide a fanon origin will receive the award (so that this blog doesn't get too clogged up).

The Golden Cucumber Award will be given to those who reblog one of my posts with a debunking of my analysis-- as long as they provide directly-quoted evidence that disproves my points. This evidence should be based on the text of the novel itself, and I should be able to look it up in my own copy. I will be more selective with giving out golden cucumbers to reblogs that debunk on the basis of "support" elements (cultural norms/historical precedence/genre tropes, etc.) because many of those topics can be somewhat subjective.

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Previously-Tackled Concepts

(See below the cut for a full list)

CANON

CQMS Twelve Peaks' have Color-Coded Uniforms

Shen Yuan has a Younger Sister

Mobei-jun has Blue Eyes

Shen Yuan is a Monster Nerd

Airplane was a Child of Divorced Parents

Ning Yingying is Younger than Luo Binghe

FANON - SUPPORTED

Shen Jiu Only Goes to Brothels to Sleep, Not to Have Sex

Mobei-jun and Shang Qinghua Eventually Get Married

FANON - NEUTRAL

Shen Qingqiu is Banned from Xian Shu Peak

Shen Qingqiu Wears a Cinnabar Mark on his Forehead

Shen Yuan Wore Glasses in his Previous Life

FANON - UNSUPPORTED

Shen Yuan was Chronically/Terminally Ill in his First Life

Shen Yuan was a Socially Awkward, Introverted Shut-In By Nature

Luo Binghe has Curly Hair

Aphrodisiac-Producing Plants are an Ever-Present Danger in the World of PIDW

FANON - CONFLICTING

Ming Fan was Head Disciple of Qing Jing Peak

Luo Binghe Received Both Scars from the Abyss Scene

Qiu Haitang has More than One Older Brother

Shen Qingqiu has Green Eyes

All Demons Naturally have Forehead Marks

Luo Binghe has a "Stereotypically Masculine" Appearance

Xuan Su is a Large, Broad, Imposing-Looking Sword

Shen Yuan's Original Body Closely Resembled Shen Qingqiu's

Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu were Meant to End Up Together in the Original Draft of PIDW

CANON EXAMINED

Shen Yuan's PIDW-Reading Timeline

Cang Qiong Mountain Sect Hierarchy (tag)

The Pre-Canon Timeline and Character Ages

#svsss #scum villain self saving system #svsss fanon #svsss meta #pinned

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leilakisakabiri · 10 months

Note

request: Hi can you do where the reader is wearing Gavis hoodie and she accidentally stains it and starts freaking out. Thank uuu and i love ur writing

I Got You (Gavi)

Summary: You need Gavi to come help you after you get yourself into a bad situation.

Warning(s): None

A/N: Thank you so much for the request and for your support! Requests are open. Currently working on The Promises We Keep Pt 2. Also, guys if I haven't done your request yet, don't worry, it probably means it's gonna be a long one.

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist

It was a Saturday night in Barcelona, and you were holed up in your room, feet tucked under you, a knitted blanket over your shoulders as you read over the words in front of you for the hundredth time.

While the city was alight with people getting drinks, dancing, and laughing, you silenced your phone, closed your blinds, and put your headphones on to quiet any outside noises.

You had decided to stay in this weekend, caught up in writing an essay for your criminal law class that was worth 50% of your grade. Safe to say you did not take it lightly. You had been hunched over your computer for the last nine hours, brain numb and fingers aching as you had tried to come up with a thesis and strong argument for your essay. You had blocked out this weekend to finish the essay, letting everyone know ahead of time not to contact you unless it was an emergency, including Gavi.

Gavi had been gone for the last couple of days, traveling around Europe for the last leg of La Liga, and he had been adamant about spending as much time with you as he could once he got back - before his summer schedule kicked off. However, that hope was quickly cut short when you informed him you most likely wouldn’t be able to see him at all this weekend due to you being stuck finishing your essay.

Although he had tried to convince you to change your mind, bribing you with the idea of endless cuddles and then promising to be as silent as possible while you wrote when his first idea didn’t work, you relented, knowing that having him around would be a major distraction, one that you couldn’t afford.

“I’m sorry Pablo I don’t think I can this weekend. What about Monday?” You asked hopefully.

He sighed over the phone, his face pulling into a frown, “I can’t. We’re leaving Monday morning for France.”

You bit on your lip, feeling bad, “I’m sorry I just really need to focus this weekend.”

He nodded, “I get it. It just sucks. I wanted to see you at least once before I’m gone again. But it’s fine – I’ll survive.” He replied dramatically.

You grinned, “Well I’ll miss you Pablito.”

“I already miss you.”

The smile on your face only grew as your heart warmed at his words, “I’ll text you if anything changes. Have a great game, I’ll be watching.”

He gave you a wink, “Damn gotta show off now that my girls watching.”

You giggled at him, “Bye Pablo.”

He mocked your tone playfully, “Bye Y/n.”

That was last week, and now you were nose deep in your essay, textbooks scattered around you as you looked for possible quotes to strengthen your thesis. You had been so busy scanning the words on the page that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing non-stop next to you.

Once you saw the glow of your phone screen curiosity got the better of you and you flipped it around seeing you had eight missed calls from your best friend.

Your eyebrows knitted in confusion, it was almost two in the morning, she would for sure be at a club right now, happily dancing the night away with your friends, so why was she consistently calling you?

The phone buzzed once again and this time you were quick to answer.

“Hello, Gia, what’s going on?”

Her voice was slurred on the other end, but you could sense the panic regardless, “Y/n? I don’t know where I am, I was with the others but then I went to the bathroom, and I then couldn’t find anyone anymore. And this guy won’t leave me alone-”

“Gia, where are you? I’ll come get you.” You cut off her rambling, already rushing to put on your shoes, essay long forgotten.

She hiccupped, “I’m at Macarena. I’m sorry no one else answered.”

“No, no problem at all. I’m coming right now, Gia. Don’t move. I’m glad you called.” You comforted her.

The club was only a twenty-minute walk from your house, and seeing as you didn’t have a car or the time to wait for public transport, it was your best option.

You cursed yourself for not answering sooner as you rushed to get your keys, grabbing a random hoodie on the way out.

Although summer was beginning to creep into Barcelona, the nights were still chilly with cold winds rushing through the area.

You sped through the streets, walking with purpose as you finally reached the club. You were severely underdressed for the club wearing a random hoodie and yoga pants. You saw the line for the club was still extremely long, wrapping around the corner and you knew you had no time to waste.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself, you were never one to break any rules or ask for any special favors, but now seemed like a good time to start.

You walked up to the club bouncer, ignoring the nasty look the guy at the front of the queue was sending you, “Excuse me. I need to get in right away, my friend is inside alone, and I need to help her.”

You heard the guy next to you scoff.

The bouncer looked at you unimpressed. “Sorry sweetheart. You want to get to her, you have to wait in line.”

You relented, “Sir please, just look at my outfit,” you said gesturing to yourself, “clearly, I’m not here to party, I just need to get my friend and leave. You can even come with me!”

He gave you an apprehensive look, taking in your appearance, “I can’t leave my post.”

You groaned, “Fine, then can someone else escort me? I can literally call her right now. She’s not in the right head space.”

He squinted his eyes at you, “You look familiar.”

It finally clicked. This is where you had gone with Gavi and his team, celebrating after they had won a final a few weeks ago. They had treated you like royalty, blocking off a whole section just for you, the club owner even making an appearance to congratulate the team.

You didn’t like to use the fact that you were dating a well-known athlete as a way to get special privileges but if it meant helping your friend then you would do it.

“Yeah, I was in VIP a few weeks ago. I know the owner, so please let me in.”

“What’s his name?”

You racked your brain trying to think of that night, “Santiago. It was Santiago!” You replied, finally remembering.

The bouncer gave you a once over before he finally nodded begrudgingly, “Fine – but be quick.”

You heard the other people in line begin to argue but you quickly thanked the bouncer, rushing inside, not wanting to wait long enough for him to change his mind.

God bless Gavi.

The place was packed, bodies pressed together so closely that you had to squeeze in between heavily making out couples and groups of friends to make your way to the middle. The strobe lights were going crazy, changing every few seconds to the beat of the music. There was a DJ booth twenty feet above the crowd playing EDM Spanish music and the crowd was going insane, chanting along.

You hit your head on your forehead as you realized you forgot to ask her where she was.

You pulled out your phone, letting out a breath of relief when she answered, “I’m here Gia. Where are you?”

“I’m at- I said no, stop, I’m at the bar.” She huffed. You felt your anxiety rise, who was she talking to?

“Ok, I’m coming.”

You pushed through the throngs of people, finally spotting the bar, seeing her leaning against the counter, hands flying as she argued with someone.

You walked towards them hearing the tail end of their conversation, a bad feeling in your stomach.

“Gia!” You yelled, coming to stand next to her.

She gave you a relieved look, falling into you, the effort of standing up being too much.

You caught her, hugging her back.

“Oh wow – two for one. I got a buddy that would love you.”

You steadied Gia looking up to see the guy she was talking with giving you a smirk.

You held his gaze, annoyed, “No thanks. We’re leaving now.”

You went to turn but he caught your wrist pulling you back, the drink in his hand sloshing,

“Woah, don’t go yet, the fun’s just getting started. Look my buddies are in VIP we can hook you up.”

You yanked your hand away, giving him a disgusted look, “First don’t touch me. Second, we’re leaving.”

“You’re not leaving.” He persisted.

You raised an eyebrow, “Fucking watch me.”

He reached for you again, but you were prepared, grabbing his hand, and flinging it off you, as you weaved into the crowd, ignoring his shouts.

You let out a breath as you stepped outside of the club, grateful for the cold air after sweating through your hoodie in the packed club.

You adjusted your hold on Gia, holding her waist as you started the trek back to your apartment.

She stumbled over her steps as you walked, giggling, “Oh my god Y/n your bleeding!”

You gave her a confused look, dragging her, “What?”

She giggled again, reaching for your hoodie, “It’s coming from your stomach, look it’s red!” She pointed at your shirt.

You looked down and you stopped in your tracks, breath hitching as you began to panic, “Oh shit Gia I’m wearing Gavi’s hoodie!”

She stopped as well, letting go of you as she plopped onto the ground, staring up at you,

“So?”

“So? He’s going to be so mad at me. That dick spilled his drink on me. This is a white hoodie – who knows if it will come out?” You stressed.

“It’s-" she hiccupped, “fine.”

You shook your head, “No It’s not it’s his favorite hoodie, I didn’t even realize I was wearing it. Fuck, I have to clean as soon as we get home.”

You started walking before you realized she wasn’t following you.

“Gia?”

You turned around to see her slumped against the sidewalk, eyes closed.

You rushed to her side, shaking her, “Gia? Gia, are you okay?”

She hummed, “I don’t feel so good.”

“Can you walk? We’re almost halfway there.” You asked, helping her sit up so she was leaning against you.

She groaned, “I’m going to throw up.”

You looked around anxiously, unsure of what to do. You had left the main strip of clubs and restaurants, and were now on a back road, walking in an area that was dimly lit and that you weren’t too familiar with.

“I can call an Uber.”

You reached into your pocket, cursing yourself as you realized you had forgotten your wallet in the rush to get to the club.

“Shit, I don’t have my wallet. Do you have yours?”

“Antonio.” She groaned, leaning her head against your shoulder.

You let out a huff, contemplating what to do. You attempted to get her to stand up once again, desperate to get out of the area, but she couldn’t stand, and you weren’t strong enough to carry her the rest of the way. You chewed on your lip debating a solution, but you didn’t want to do it unless it was the absolute, last, last resort.

You spent the next five minutes calling all your friends, but no one answered. You groaned, frustrated, knowing you had run out of options.

You heard your friend beginning to doze off and you shook her, “Gia stay awake.”

She moaned, “Y/n I really don’t feel good. I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Your finger hovered over the contact, and you finally pressed it, feeling the guilt build inside.

It rang seven times before going to voicemail. You called back.

On the third ring, the line finally connected,

“Y/n? Why are you calling me so late?” Gavi’s voice was thick with sleep, his words murmured.

Hearing his voice sent a pang of relief through you, and suddenly you didn’t feel so alone,

“Gavi I’m sorry. I really need your help.”

He was up in an instant, wide awake, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m stuck in the middle of the road with Gia. She got drunk and I went to get her but now I’m worried there’s something wrong. She can’t get up and we’re all alone. I don’t have any money. I called our friends, but no one answered, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You rushed out.

You heard his breath accelerate on the other end of the line, “Ok don’t worry baby I’m coming. Send me your address, everything’s going to be okay. Just stay on the phone with me.” He reassured you.

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Thank you so much Gavi.”

You heard his car door open, “Anytime. If anything happens like this again you call me first, okay?”

“Okay.”

You stayed on the phone with him, rubbing Gia’s shoulder to comfort her, readjusting her whenever she began to doze off.

Finally, you saw a familiar car pull onto the street, and you waved your hands, trying to get him to see you.

The car made a quick turn and then Gavi was rushing out, a worried look on his face,

“Oh thank god you’re okay. I was so worried.”

“I’m so sorry for waking you. Thank you for coming.”

“Y/n stop apologizing.” He said, helping you carry Gia to the car.

Upon feeling that she was being lifted, her eyes shot open, “Y/n what’s going on?”

She glanced over to her left seeing Gavi before she turned to look at you, it took two seconds for her eyes to widen and then she was whipping her head back, “Gavi? The hell y-you doing here?”

You giggled at her abruptness, “I had to call for help.”

She turned to you, snuggling into your shoulder affectionately, “You’re the best Y/n. She was a rockstar today.” She spoke, as you both pushed her into the car.

Gavi raised his eyebrow at you as you both got in, “A rockstar eh?”

You rolled your eyes, “She’s just spewing nonsense.”

Gia groaned in the back, hands clumsily coming to slap your shoulder, “Ehh don’t lie Y/n. You should have seen the way she talked to those guys – even I was scared.”

You saw Gavi’s grip on the steering wheel tighten, his posture stiffened as he looked over at you,

“Guys? What guys?”

You opened your mouth to reply but Gia beat you to it.

“This one guy, he kept trying to get me to come with him, but then Y/n was like no way we’re leaving, and then he started hitting on her, but then he tried to grab her, and she karate chopped his hand! He was so embarrassed!”

You felt yourself blushing at her recollection of events, “I did not karate chop his hand!”

“Yes, you did. It was like in midair when he was talking about his friend that liked you, and then I blinked, and it was gone!”

“Did he try anything?” Gavi’s voice was hard, as he looked at you.

You shook your head, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “No don’t worry. We were fine.”

You felt his body relax under your touch, and one of his hands came to grip your own, “You should have called me sooner. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, “Don’t worry I handled it. But thank you, next time I will.”

Soon you were pulling up to your apartment and hauling Gia up your steps.

“I really wish we had an elevator right now.” Gia groaned as she was being half pulled, half carried up the steps.

You made eye contact with Gavi after hearing her statement, and you had to bite your cheek not to laugh out loud,

“You and me both G.”

Finally, you reached your apartment, and all let out a sigh of relief as she fell onto your bed, passing out almost immediately.

You cringed as you saw her head land centimeters away from the sharp edge of one of your textbooks.

You reached over, clearing the space so she was able to sleep without the risk of a concussion.

You looked up once the area was cleaned to see Gavi looking at you intently, a weird expression on his face almost like he was stuck in his thoughts.

“What? Is everything okay?” You asked unsure, looking down at yourself.

That’s when you realized.

You were still wearing his hoodie, the one that had a massive red stain on it now thanks to the jackass at the club.

You had completely forgotten about it.

You quickly apologized, “Gavi I’m so sorry. Gia called and I was so worried so I grabbed the first thing I could find – and then the guy kept grabbing me and had this drink – anyways,” you let out a huff, “I’m really really sorry, I can buy you a new one.”

Gavi stared at you in surprise, shocked by your outburst, “Y/n relax. It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry I know how much you love this sweatshirt.”

Gavi shook his head slightly smiling, you were just so adorable, and he physically couldn’t hold back the words he’d been dying to say any longer, “I love you more though, so it’s fine.”

“Wha-what?” You stumbled over your words, clearly not expecting such a big revelation.

“I said I love you.” He said it with so much confidence, almost like he was reciting a fact, something that couldn’t be changed, and you melted a little at how sure he sounded.

You didn’t know what to say, your brain still playing those three words on a loop. He loved you. He had said it first.

The silence stretched on and now it was his turn to get nervous, “Is that okay?”

Your mouth was still open in shock, but you quickly recovered,

“Yo-you love me?” Your voice cracked.

“Well, yeah… why would I not?” He asked, eyes locked on yours.

You shook your head, a smile gracing your features as you took a step closer to him, “I love you too, and I’m sorry-”

He cut you off with a sweet kiss, pulling you closer into him, as he slid his hands under the sweatshirt, fingers gently squeezing the soft flesh of your hips.

Your lips moved in sync and your hands went to play with his hair, gently tugging.

You heard him let out a groan and you bit his bottom lip instinctively.

He pulled away out of breath, a dazed look in his eyes, “Joder, you can ruin all my hoodies if this is how you apologize.” He muttered breathlessly.

You rolled your eyes, smiling as he brought you back into him for another kiss.

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hotvintagepoll · 3 months

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I'm sure you've already answered that but what was the criteria to choose the main picture for the poll? Because i think it has swayed many polls for the worst, at least to me, like there were some slightly grainy pictures or with very bad lighting that obiviously didn't paint a very flattering image

I really hate comments on the poll pics and am on my last nerve, but ok, sure, I'll answer this.

In the original submission form for the hot men poll, I didn't make including photos mandatory. That means a lot of people came in, dropped names of their fave hot guys, and left. I had 320+ submissions and a couple days to get the bracket together. When I could, I used a submitted photo. When I couldn't, I did my best in a quick time frame to find a photo that showed the hot man decently—avoiding ones cloaked in super dark, sexy shadows where you couldn't actually see the features, or ones that didn't really convey the hot guy's vibe. But still, a lot of photos to sort really quickly, and I didn't have time to go looking for the perfect photo for every hot guy. I tried.

With that said, we're on round 4 of the bracket and have been doing this since Christmas, and whenever anyone's pointed out the photo isn't great and supplied a better one, I've switched it. I really have no patience left for bitching about the photos—there's been plenty of time for people to submit better ones, and at this point if you hate a photo, you can either tell me constructively and supply a new one or realize that what you find attractive doesn't do it for everyone. the laurence olivier pic discussion alone shows an apparent 50/50 split on whether he was hotter as a Typical 1940s Leading Man or An Eyeliner Cloaked Drag King. I do my best to get the photos to match the hot man's vibe, even if it isn't quote-unquote "sexy," and if these polls show anything it's that sexy is a different concept for everybody.

tl;dr if I see another thoughtless comment about the poll pics—or something like the above, lovingly worded to point out how lacking they find photos that have been up since December—I'm blocking. Help me solve it or get out.

#'obviously didn't paint a very flattering image' fuck off #i tried. some of these guys will never look good NOT in motion. some guys look hot to other people only one way not another. cope.#asks

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whiskeyapologist · 4 months

Text

was looking through my camera roll & realized i never posted about this?? but i did a check please theme in my bullet journal back in april & i am still beyond obsessed with how it turned out!

task list & cover page

april was all about finishing my fucking thesis (i earned my mfa in stage automation in may) & i used the task list to break down each section of my thesis & make it less intimidating. i still pulled a bitty & had to marathon write most of my thesis within a like 36 hour period. i slept so good once that draft was finished!

when i started planning this theme, i flipped through the comic & decided pretty quickly i wanted the cover to be this view of faber from 4.25 "faber". i filled the outside with some of my favorite details from throughout the comic, including (clockwise from top left) the "text from chowder: i'm shouting!" from 4.2 "nonstop celly", jack's "oh" moment from 2.17 "graduation", the jack lego (?) figure from 3.1 "wag", dex & nursey's background roach & house bubbles & (i think it's) ransom's "et tu lardo?" bubble from 2.12 "post i: roadie", one of my fave senor bun appearances that didn't make it into a weekly from 1.16 "linemates", & bitty's phone (i don't think there's a specific appearance of bitty's phone that looks like this, at least not that i'm finding in the flip-throughs i've done to write this post. i think i did a lil freehand moment with it, but if anyone happens to find it in the comic, let me know!), as well as my usual little calendar & monthly focuses section

monthly calendar & habit tracker

the monthly calendar & playlist is inspired by the smh team roster hanging on the bulletin board in the haus at the beginning of year 2

the habit tracker features a few other details from 2.1 “moved in”, namely the “haus sweet haus” rug & the sock pinned to the bulletin board. the shopping list bubble is a callback to the “jizz!” speech bubble also pinned to the bulletin board next to the sock

meal & time trackers

the breakfast, lunch, & dinner headers are a callback to the hockey puck taped to the bulletin board

not much to add here, but it’s a great time to mention the “it’s tough but you’re tougher” speech bubble from 4.20 “spotlight on eric bittle” which was the quote i used to decorate my grad cap ❤️

weekly #1 is modeled after y1 & features my favorite y1 senor bun appearance (1.18 “playoffs - i”) & line (1.8 “checking clinic”)

weekly #2 is modeled after y2 & features my favorite y2 senor bun (2.10 "shinny") & line (2.4 "hazeapalooza")

weekly #3 is modeled after y3 & features my favorite y3 senor bun (3.3 "meet the falconers") & line (3.26 "cup v - post")

weekly #4 is modeled after y4 (the layout of the top panel specifically is modeled after the first panel of 4.16 "christmas in madison - iii" which shows a bunch of the christmas pics/posts from the rest of smh & tater) & features my favorite y4 senor bun (4.17 "senior thesis") & line (also 4.17 "senior thesis"). i has some extra space, so i included some excerpts from bitty's y4 tweets

camp nanowrimo tracker, before the pen. the left is just a table for tracking time spent on & words written for my thesis & the novel i've been working on forever. my camp nanowrimo goal was to write 1 hour every weekend day & 2 hours every week day, for a grand total of 50 hours, which i am proud to say i achieved! the right is a visual tracker, where each pie was equal to an hour of writing. i included 50 pies for my 50 hour goal. the bubble near the top is from 1.4 "the haus" with 2 footnotes i added; one on "kitchens" that says "word docs", & one on "pies" that says "words". clearly i think i'm very clever lol

visual tracker, filled in. i surpassed my 50 hour goal with about a week left in the month, & i wanted to include that additional progress on my tracker. once the month was done & i knew how much i needed to add, i made a tip-in (although this might just be a fold-out lol) to tape in. on one side, i included the dialogue bubbles from a panel of 3.19 "keagster"

on the other side of the tip-in/flip-out, i included jam jars for the additional 10.25 hours of writing i did, plus "it's gonna be two trips" also from 3.19 "keagster"

& that's all the spreads! spreads were done in an archer & olive b5 notebook. supplies include: mildliners in the colors vermillion, dark blue, beige, & gray; a black papermate flair, a white gellyroll pen in size 08, and stabilo pens in gray and brown. oh, & a piece of masking tape, bc i couldn't find any clear tape lol

#omgcp #bullet journal #i did so many good themes in my b5 journal but i'm pretty sure this one's my favorite

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brokenstar28 · 7 months

Text

Incorrect Bat-Family Quotes

Bruce: I tried to write ‘I'm a functional adult’ but my phone changed it to ‘fictional adult’ and i feel like that’s more accurate.

~~~

Jason: God has let me live another day and I'm going to make it everyone's problem.

~~~

Tim, sleep deprived: There are three chairs and five kids. What do you do?

Dick: Get two more chairs.

Bruce: Cut each chair in half to make six.

Damian: Make them fight for a chair.

Jason: Get rid of two kids.

Babs: Just make two of the kids stand.

Bruce: ...That makes more sense.

~~~

Dick: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit, and wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Tim, sleep deprived: That's deep.

Damian: That means that ketchup is a smoothie.

Tim, still sleep deprived: That's deeper.

Jason: ...You guys are idiots.

~~~

Damian: So I got this amazing plan!

Tim: We fail almost every time you say that.

Damian: Well this is the same! But with a hamster involved.

~~~

Jason: I just found out that humans are capable of fitting a light bulb into their mouth with ease but can’t take it out without shattering it, and now I have to physically restrain myself from putting a light bulb in my mouth

~~~

Damian: I thought you were going to give me a book recommendation or something.

Bruce: *laughs* Book recommendation? I can’t read!

~~~

Jason: Problem, I can't tell if this food is over-sauced or under-cooked.

Dick: Solution, just pop it back in the oven for another 10 minutes. There's at least a 50% chance that'll fix it, right?

Jason: Result, the food has somehow become unpleasantly soggy and unpleasantly crunchy at the exact same time.

Tim: No better time than this to pull out my favorite word! Slunchy!

Damian: ...put it away.

~~~

Jason: If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're impressed.

Damian: But you do know better. Somehow.

~~~

Tim: I am going to cry. I’m going to cry until I can no longer physically cry anymore because all the water in my body is gone and I die from dehydration.

Jason: Are you okay?

Damian: Did you actually just ask him that? Like, you need that to be answered otherwise you won’t know?

~~~

Tim: Just took a personality test and got an A+.

~~~

Dick: Just one more! And then maybe another one.

~~~

Jason: If you could guess, how many brain cells do you have?

Tim, has not slept all mouth: Doritos cool ranch.

Jason: ...

Jason: I'm just gonna assume zero for now.

(It's the 14th of April) Tim: I love that song.

~~~

Bruce: Hey Jason, do you have any hobbies?

Jason: Swimming...

Bruce: Really? That’s cool. I never expected you to-

Jason: In a pool of self hatred and regret.

#bruce wayne #batman #jason todd #red hood #tim drake #red robin #dick grayson #nightwing #damian wayne #robin #barbara gordon #oracle #batfam shenanigans #incorrect batfamily quotes #incorrect bat-fam quotes #sleep deprived tim drake

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richardlawson · 2 months

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The End

After a few years away from that particular couch, I started seeing a new therapist at the end of last year. It had been long enough, I sagely determined, after I was felled by a series of really nasty panic attacks—one happened while I was doing a Q&A on stage with some filmmakers. They didn't notice, nor did the audience, nor (most importantly) the publicists. But it was happening. Me contemplating running off stage, into the Soho afternoon. It was a terrible feeling, and eventually feeling terrible starts to be a drag, so I found, after a fair amount of searching, someone new.

He is in his late 50s and has a kind, open comportment. He's much more giving and lean-in-and-nod than my last therapist, a sort of prim and watchful gay guy who retired to Florida. I like this new gay guy, I think. Or, I am warming to him. At first, I thought his platitudes and constant quoting of various people were corny. But I have resisted such sentiment for so long, and lack of sentiment hasn't cured me, so maybe I should try the earnest stuff. He has me meditating for one minute a day. The panic attacks went away.

For a little while, anyway. They've been creeping back, when I least expect them, and when I most do. I am afraid of what I am afraid of, I hate what I hate, I feel increasingly indifferent to what I love. Winter hardens care. Do I like movies anymore? Do I like a play, seen on some chilly Saturday afternoon? Maybe it's just seasonal. Or it's media malaise in a time of such austerity. They're trying to lay off the best people while the worst people watch, safe as houses. They're trying to take the whole thing apart and replace it with nothing. I have worked in my business for 16 years, well over a third of my life, and for the first time it now feels truly dire and terminal and like I need to start making other plans for what to do with the rest of my time here in the waking, working world.

Something I talk about a lot with my therapist is inertia—I use the word constantly. Why can't I just, why can't I just, why can't I just. I know something's in me, latent under my lazy skin, but it never makes its way to the surface. At least not yet.

Which causes panic, this stasis. I am scared of the drugs that might help, and am resistant to other concrete life changes that might make this better. (I like a glass of wine too much; I'm a fan of my vape.) I have tried avoiding things, I have tried not avoiding things.

I guess it's not circumstance, really. I have panic attacks when I'm home at night, Andrew asleep in the other room, me watching some murder show or YouTube video (same thing) and suddenly a feeling hits me, the conviction that a blood clot or some other lurking thing is making its way up my body and that this is my sorry, lonely little nighttime end. Here it is, the moment when I'm carried off, when I disappear, when I slip away into nothing.

My parents just finished a cruise, a lifelong wish fulfilled, in South America, hooking around Cape Horn and then exploring the fjords and inlets of Chile. All the reports were good. They had the best time. I had worried about my mom itching for her work email, about my dad being newly 90 years old and maybe feeling exhausted by all the activity. But it seems they managed well. They saw Patagonian cities, they saw mountains rising out of the sea, they saw the shy, retreating edges of glaciers, so quiet and demure in their dying. My mom sent us pictures and I thought most about the glaciers, those last cracking murmurs of a time before. When I was in Alaska for a wedding, years ago now, we went to a park of some kind and the visitor's center that was once built over a glacier then stood cantilevered over dry land. The ice had crept much farther up the mountain, winking goodbye.

How awful. And yet, in the depths of my hypocrisy, I relish an unseasonably warm day. Whatever lifts me out of winter, I guess. Whatever can drag me out of the feeling that everything is indeed going to ruin—a career, a life, a liver, a future. My best friend moved out of my neighborhood recently, which is sad. But it also affords us the opportunity to explore new territory, to find backyard bars with good deals where we can huddle in forgiving late-winter winds and make uneasy escape plans, where we consider what parachutes could ever be made of.

It's not always enough, of course. I too often have nights, far too late, when I go pacing around the living room, circling the coffee table in a weird sort of marching step in my underwear, shaking my hands to get the dread to go away. My new therapist has urged me to find what centers me. To think of all that is known and steady.

I try to gather myself and remember the people I have, arrayed across the planet. Andrew, in restless sleep down the hall. My sister in her Los Angeles canyon, surrounded by trees. I walk the room, knees high and somehow defiant, chest straining with worry. And I see my parents, on a boat at the tip of the world, dreaming of lost things.

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matan4il · 2 months

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Daily update post:

I wrote about a recent terrorist attack in which one Israeli young man was murdered and 13 people were injured. The most seriously injured casualty was Adi Zohar, a young pregnant woman (five months along, and with another little baby at home). She and the foetus are doing good, and she's been giving interviews from her hospital bed. In one, she mentioned that the traffic jam they were stuck in, was actually caused by a staged car accident.

I wrote about Yonatan Samerano's murdered body having been kidnapped to Gaza by two Hamas terrorists on Oct 7, one of which was also a UN worker, while they used a UN vehicle for this crime. There's nothing new on that front, but this quote from his mom Ayelet is one I think everyone should hear...

I wish I could record, translate and upload this. I got to hear an interview with an IDF officer who came out of Gaza after fighting there for a while, and he talked about having seen with his own eyes how Hamas terrorists were using Gazan civilians as human shields. He mentioned that there was an area, where they had a curfew during the night, so that if they come across anyone after dark, it would be clear that it's a terrorist. But one soldier came across a 4 years old kid walking there alone at nighttime. Even though it was dark, the soldier was thankfully able to recognize in time that it's a kid. She wouldn't speak, but the soldiers were able to locate a terror tunnel shaft not too far from where they were, and from which the terrorists sent her into this area, to test how vigil about the curfew the IDF is. While I couldn't record this specific interview, reports about Hamas' use of kids, both as human shields and as active members of the terrorist organization, are not new.

In order to improve the supply of humanitarian aid to Gaza, Israel will start allowing aid trucks directly into the northern side, rather than just allowing them into the southern part, and then having it driven from the south to the north by Gaza-based organizations, such as UNRWA. These have been allowing hundreds of trucks' worth of aid to remain lying around idle, leading to this new measure by Israel. So far, over 14,000 aid trucks were allowed in since the start of the war.

A Palestinian terrorist, who was arrested and convicted in 2004 for planning and participating in the Carmel Market terrorist attack, in which 3 people were murdered and over 50 were wounded, wrote a book while in prison, and it's now nominated for the most prestigious literature award in the Arab world, which comes with a prize of 50,000 dollars. The event's site mentions that the author is in jail, but not what he's imprisoned for.

This is 19 years old Oz Daniel.

Based on evidence collected in the past few days, he's now been confirmed as having been murdered on Oct 7, and his body was kidnapped to Gaza. There will be a funeral, which suggests that parts of him can be buried. Let it sink in that it's been 4.5 months since the Hamas massacre, and we're still identifying people who had been murdered on that day.

The news about this was aired along with a confirmation that out of 134 hostages in Gaza, 33 are kidnapped bodies. That means there are 101 living hostages there at most (with possibly at least 20 more also murdered, info awaiting debunking or confirmation). In the image below are the pics of the hostages, alive and confirmed killed, the ones with a light blue frame around their pic, have been in Hamas captivity for years.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack

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trancylovecraft · 9 months

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

Previous Chapter ☆♡☆ Masterlist ☆♡☆ Next Chapter

AO3 link

CHAPTER FOUR: "Achilles, Achilles, Achilles, come down Won't you get up off, get up off the roof?"

NOTE: THE SONG OF THE DAY IS "Two Birds on a Wire" BY REGINA SOMETHING. LISTEN WHILE READING IF YOU WANNA HAVE FUN IDK YOU DON'T NEED TO. oh right btw pls send me aesthetic pics for my moodboards, im running out and almost resorted to quotes 😭✋ (which i did but shhh)

oh right, shit also gets real this chapter LETS GOOO.

Suicide notes only accompany in 25-20% percent of cases, Sometimes reaching 50% in some cultures and areas.

Reasons for writing a suicide note can include easing the pain of those known to the victim, To express thoughts and feelings that the person felt unable to express in life or to set out their reasons for committing such an act.

Murders of crows escaped in flocks, Flying high into the air in a wild panic as they hollered that one single phrase over and over again like a broken record player.

"EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! ATTACK! ATTACK! THE KAKUSHI BASE IS UNDER ATTACK! CALLING FOR ALL NEARBY SLAYERS!"

The sheer number of them was carrying the sound so far, Their call could be heard for miles even all the way to the village. The song of their screams frantic as they all flapped in different directions, Disappearing into the dark horizon.

Tanjiro couldn't see anything, He couldn't smell anything either. The sheer amount of dust made from the debris had blocked up all of his senses making him uncontrollably cough within the smoke.

He stumbled around, The shock hadn't even hit him yet. One moment he was walking around the base and the next he had been flung to the tile roof, All due to that gust of wind.

The tall stone walls surrounding the shrine had suddenly been destroyed all within a single moment, Throwing chunks of rock and wood hurtling into the main body of the shrine and its people.

The screams and shouts of panicked crowds rung in his ear like a church bell reverberated to the nines. It felt so loud, So bloody loud that he thought his head might explode from the raw volume of the wails.

Tanjiro was dazed, It was all a blur moving in slow motion as he tried to catch his footing on the flat of the roof.

It was only then once his foot was steadied that he could finally sense an overbearing presence. Somewhere in the mist.

"Someone is here.."

A voice like faraway thunder jolted Tanjiro out of his stupor, A voice that shook Tanjiro deep down to his very bones. It was nothing like any kind of voice he had heard before, It didn't sound human and certainly didn't smell like it either.

A putrid stench had hit Tanjiro, A sudden smell had came to him and it almost made him drop his sword. This was no ordinary demon, The scent was overwhelming his senses of nothing but pure and utter power.

The gale's sole blessing had manifested in the clearing of the smoke. The after breeze lifting up the thickest points of dust and blowing them away, Yet some still remained as a dark figure was now made clearer.

But it was the figure's six medallion eyes, One's that shone like headlights through the fog that really caught Tanjiro by surprise.

His eyes widened as his arm went to the hilt of his sword on response, Yet when his hand went to grab it he felt absolutely nothing there.

He snapped his head to his empty belt. His heart seemed to stop in his chest.

He still hadn't gotten his new sword sent to him yet, It was still being sharpened. He was absolutely defenceless.

By the time he had looked back up at the figure the fog had cleared completely, The dust long cleared as his eyes settled upon the demon in front of him.

Tall. He was towering in height, Well over six foot at least. His hair tied into a dark spiked ponytail with red whisking at the tips as it flowed in the wind, His hexagonal kimono oversized in the arms as it moved with his hair.

But it was the kanji in his eyes that made him freeze.

"You.. Boy."

His voice rang out again as he turned to Tanjiro. He stumbled back, Despite the demon being a few metres away on the other side of the roof he was still too close, Way too close.

His eyes glared down to the younger slayer, Stabbing into every point of him. Scrutinizing him from afar before finally landing on the piece he feasted his gaze on. Two hanafuda earrings dangling from each ear.

Tanjiro watched as his expression went blank, Only for a couple of seconds before flinching when he saw the demon's mouth contort into a snarl. An angry visage that showed off his lion-like canines protruding from under his lips.

"I.. You.." Tanjiro stuttered. He tried backing away once more but the heel of his foot hit the tile railing. He watched as small bits of debris fell off the roof down to the floor below, It was a long drop. If he fell there was little to no chance of survival.

"Those earrings.." The demon drawled. It sounded like something was stuck within his throat, Something he was holding back. "How did you acquire them.."

Tanjiro tried to steady his heavy breathing as he stared him down. "I.. T-They're a family heirloom.." Was all that he was able to muster up, His voice shaking as much as he was.

Kokushibo felt himself tense up, All six eyes scrutinizing the earrings as he tried his best to calm down the building sense of rage starting to burn inside him. A family heirloom? His brother's earrings, A family heirloom. The idea of it sounded so stupid to him, Not to mention the mere reminder of his twin brother made his fingers twitch and grasp onto the hilt of his sword from instinct.

"A family heirloom.. Disgusting.." Kokushibo jeered. Feeling the words on his tongue he felt the previous anger inside come to a peak, This wasn't acceptable. Yorichii, Do I really need to be reminded of you even five hundred years later?

The sword from his hilt slid out of the sheathe with ease. The eyes embedded into the flesh of the sword darted around wildly, All examining its surroundings as the muscle pulsated.

He drew it to his side. Tanjiro's heartrate started to pick up, Feeling as if it would burst out of his chest as he watched Kokushibo get into a fighting stance. What would he do? He had no sword and there was no exit. What can he do? What can he do?!

Kokushibo pushed his foot forward, Lunging himself forward with his sword ready to slice. He was so fast, Tanjiro could barely raise his arms to his face. A weak attempt to defend himself as the blade drew nearer and nearer towards his neck

CLASH!

It was over in an instant.

Dust from the broken walls and ceiling tiles blew out out into the high night air, A whirlwind of smoke covering anything and everything in sight as pieces of stone and splinter flew off.

Tanjiro coughed once more, The dust blowing hard into his face. He moved his hands up towards his neck to check for any damage. Feeling it over and patting it a few times it felt.. All intact.

"What the.." Tanjiro muttered. His eyes widened as he watched the demon from before jump back into his original position, Landing a few metres away from Tanjiro in a crouched stance.

Tanjiro looked up and gasped.

"Fujimori-sama-!"

[F/N] stood only a few inches away from the younger boy. His position was low and his sword was drawn like a shield, Both it and his body creating a block between him and the demon.

[F/N] looked back towards him from the side, That old fox mask's mouth quirked up into the most reassuring smile it could. The eyes of the mask looking down at him in kind.

"Tanjiro Kamado… That was a close one, Eh?" A light chuckle came from him, Tone dancing in the air like the weight of the whole situation was lost to him entirely.

Tanjiro didn't even think to ask him why he knew his name, Something unimportant in that moment.

"Fujimori-sama.. The demon-"

"Don't worry about the demon. You don't exactly look like you have the proper weaponry to fight back so I suggest you start evacuating the shrine with everyone else, Alright?" [F/N] advised.

Tanjiro shook his head.

"What about you?! This.. This is Uppermoon one! He's strong, I can smell it! You can't take him on by yourself!" Tanjiro cried.

It didn't affect [F/N] in the slightest, Only making him raise a single brow.

"..Really?" He hummed, A playful tune lilting in the air to contrast the dire implications of his words. He seemed to stay there in thought, Only for a moment as Tanjiro watched the mask stare off into the night sky.

"He was able to sense me coming.. Not to mention block my attack.." He muttered, The mask contorting back into a thoughtful visage. An incomprehensible babble to the boy behind him as his eyes finally lit up, An unrecognisable emotion sparking inside his eyes.

The dust cleared once more, Kokushibo stood up to examine the sight.

His eyes landed on the Hashira a few metre's away, Crouched in a defensive position. In a split second that man was able to get himself in between him and the boy, Able to attack in that single moment.

It would of been impressive, Something he would of respected if not for the mans garments.

He wore his usual slayer uniform, Tight fitting and finished with a belt with open arms to show off tattoo's. But the haori draped loosely around his shoulders, That accursed haori drooping from his shoulders was one that shocked his heart like a amateur defibrillator.

The dragon pattern.. That cerulean blue.

"Michi-Nii!"

The grip on his sword hilt got tighter, Almost crushingly so.

How fucking dare he..?!

Kokushibo felt his nose twitch, Eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as they trailed across the rest of him, Prying at every little detail of him. The kitsune mask resting upon his face, The medieval sword propped up in front of him like a shield.

"And does it work?" Michikatsu asked, Studying the mask.

"Haven't tried. It's a sacred artefact of the shrine. It would be a disrespect to Inari if I did." She stated.

A disrespect to her.

Two reminders of his late siblings, One beloved one despised. Both side by side with each other in such a short time frame. It made him absolutely furious, Outraged both by the resurfaced memories and the sheer dishonour towards his sister.

Both the renewment of the shrine and the man parading around with her haori..

It made him absolutely livid.

"You.. What is your name. Tell me it.. Now" Kokushibo pronounced through gritted teeth. It took every inch of his willpower not to pounce and tear him apart limb by limb, Bite into his jugular and rip his voice box out with his molars.

[F/N] finally seemed to snap out of his realisation as his mask's eyes landed on Kokushibo, That burning glint shining bright as he looked at him. The first time getting a proper look.

"Wow.. Uppermoon one, What a pleasure to meet you." [F/N] drawled, Yet it wasn't condescending. Standing up to his full height he matched Kokushibo perfectly, Both men locked in a stare down as [F/N] ignored his question.

Kokushibo didn't answer him, So [F/N] took the opportunity to speak once more.

"I see what Kamado here means about powerful.. Your soul certainly gives off that aura alright." He chuckled again, Taking a few drawn steps to the side.

"Kamado.." Kokushibo pondered. It only took a second to click in his head. The Kamado girl, The one his master had talked about during the meeting. If this boy was here then that would mean the demon girl was here, The one who conquered the sun.

[F/N]'s eyes narrowed.

"Ringing a bell?" He questioned, Cocking his head lazily to the side. Kokushibo didn't answer once again.

[F/N] examined him head to toe. His fingers, His ears and his sword. From his eyes to the soles of his sandals he simply radiated power. A feeling that permeated in the air making molecules shift in his presence.

A wild grin appeared not on his mask but on her face, A wide toothy grin that felt so foreign, So alien to her. It was a smile she hadn't made in years, One she couldn't supress even if she tried.

[F/N] peered back around to Tanjiro, Who was still behind him.

"Tanjiro. I need you to do me a favour, Alright?" He asked. His tone still containing that playful tint yet it held something different now, Something more serious.

Tanjiro nodded

"Y-Yeah, What do you need?" He asked.

[F/N] reached a single hand into the inside of his haori and slipped out a single pristine envelope, Perfectly packaged with a blue fox seal. He presented it to the younger boy, Who hesitantly took it into his hands.

"I need you to deliver this to Mitsuri Kanroji, Alright? Promise me that you will deliver this to her and place it in her hands personally yourself." [F/N] asked. That tone of importance growing ever stronger in both his voice and his mask's eyes.

Tanjiro's eyes widened as he looked down at the envelope, He nodded his head, Ignoring the scent that was coming off his elder. [F/N] turned back towards Kokushibo.

"Go now, Tanjiro. Find a handmaiden named Seijun, She'll help you and the rest down the mountain." He said, Not looking back at him for a second. Tanjiro nodded as he took off, Carefully scaling down the tiled roof's of the shrine.

Kokushibo looked back at the two, Readying his sword once more.

"No.. You're not getting away from me." He hissed, Raising the blade high in the air as he pointed at the two slayers.

[F/N] returned the gesture, His own heavy-weight sword lifted with ease as he pointed it straight back at him.

"Not if I have anything to say about it!" [F/N] exclaimed. The excitement returning to the tune of his voice, A wild primal excitement as he stared the demon on from behind his mask.

Kokushibo prepared his own stance, [F/N] did as well in turn.

As they finally charged at each other, [F/N] yelled out

"Soul Breathing, First form: Psyche Cutter!"

☆♡☆

Heavy footsteps hit the snow with a crunch, The large stature of the Stone Hashira leaving deep footsteps behind him as he traversed throughout the woodland mountainside.

Zenitsu, Inosuke and Shizuko. The younger slayers behind him trailed along with Gyomei's stride in search of the lost shrine-maiden.

Luckily the snow had stopped a little while ago, Making it easier to see throughout the vastness of the tall winding tree's.

It had been only half an hour since they started searching, Yet in that time they had made their way a few miles out from their starting point.

"M-Man.. Is it cold out here, Now I wish I just stayed at the base.." Zenitsu said through a chattering jaw, Keeping his arms folded to try and conserve heat as he warily looked for the maiden.

"Not for me! The mountains I ruled over got real snowy, So of course I evolved to be cold-blooded!" Inosuke announced in his march. It was true, Despite him being eternally shirtless in the blistering cold he didn't shake once despite all odds.

"T-That's impossible! You can't just evolve to be cold-blooded!" Zenitsu cried out, Annoyed from both the cold and his comrades announcement.

"Can too!" Inosuke argued.

"N-No you can't!" Zenitsu yelled back, His words eventually snowballing into a larger quarrel between the two boys. Both seeming to believe whoever yelled louder was correct.

"Ngh.. Can you two shut up? You're giving me a headache.." Shizuko groaned, Cupping his ears with his hands in annoyance.

The two boys ignored him and continued their argument as they trailed behind Himejima. Zenitsu and Inosuke not backing down for a single second while Shizuko gritted his teeth. Gyomei didn't seem to particularly mind, If he did he didn't show it, His stoic expression painted on him like a portrait.

They hadn't found the shrine-maiden, Even though they had been searching for a fair amount of time there no trace of her prescence.

There wasn't any footsteps or any blood, Absolutely nothing.

The rattling of Gyomei's beads slowed as his whitened eyes narrowed in thought. Gyomei had assumed that the most likely scenario was that the maiden had trouble either getting down or getting back up the mountain, Though now that seemed a dwindling possibility.

He sighed, Letting cold mist escape from his mouth.

"Seems like the maiden isn't here.. It's probably for the better that we move down towards the village and check in with the locals." Gyomei announced as he turned around to face the younger slayers, To whom were still fighting.

Shizuko groaned once more before raising his flat hand and bringing it down hard onto both their heads.

"Ne, Stop arguing and start listening to Himejima-sensei! You're giving me a migraine and we're no closer to finding the maiden.. No thanks to you.." He scolded. A rare angry expression appearing on his face with those same perpetually wide eyes glaring daggers into the boys.

"Ack-! W-What the hell man! We are looking!" Zenitsu yelped out, Hands rushing to the quickly forming sore spot on his head.

"I am! I can see a lot of things. Snow, Tree's, Shrubs!" Inosuke butted in. Shizuko groaned once more, Even though they had stopped their spat never quelled.

"Birds, Twigs, Red Fabric, Flakes of snow!" He continued.

Both Gyomei and Shizuko's heads snapped round to face Inosuke, A sudden movement that made his rant pause in its tracks.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?!" Inosuke questioned, His vision rapidly darting to both Shizuko and Gyomei in seconds like a cornered animal.

"Red fabric..? Where do you see that?" Gyomei asked.

"By that tree over there, To the left!" Inosuke said. Arm pointing up straight to a tree just off to the side of the trail they were going down. And sure enough swaying in the wind was an untethered piece of crimson cloth, Blowing in the breeze.

Zenitsu was the first to get over to the fabric, Catching up with it and snatching it away from the wind.

"You're right.. B-But this could be any random piece of fabric.. It doesn't really mean much." He muttered. The piece was too small to make out any defining shape, So small that it was only as big as his thumb.

"Shizuko.." Gyomei ordered an unspoken action, Nodding his head forward towards the boy.

Shizuko nodded back as he quickly moved over to Zenitsu without a second thought and put out his hand.

"Ne, Give it here.." Shizuko commanded, Impatiently shaking his hand as he beckoned Zenitsu forward.

"O-Okay.." Zenitsu muttered as he placed the cloth into the palm of Shizuko, To which the latter shuddered as soon as the fabric brushed at his skin.

Shizuko took the sanguine felt into both of his hands with an obvious reluctance as it looked like he was holding back his own puke. He ran his nimble fingers along the surface of it, Nose scrunching up in disgust as he spoke.

"Ngh.. It's mostly Linen however I can feel a minority of cotton as well.. Ne.. Fairly thick, 0.73 inches.. But judging by the weavement of the fabric it's most likely worn by someone of shorter stature.." Shizuko explained.

"Ngh.. So in other words, It fits the description of the lost maiden.." He concluded, Instantly dropping it back into Zenitsu's hold as he finished his last syllable.

"I see.. And is it fresh?" Gyomei asked.

"Felt like it.." Shizuko replied.

They stayed silent after that. Gyomei seemed to furrow his brows as his mind worked away at the next possibility. Both Shizuko and Inosuke seemed lost in their own world as well, The former following his master in thought while Inosuke seemed to trail along as well.

"She must be somewhere around here.. We must circle back around, She may already be-" Gyomei stopped out of the blue, His words cut off as his senses picked up a change in one of the slayers.

Zenitsu had frozen up, And it wasn't from the cold atmosphere.

"Child.. What is the matter?" Gyomei asked as his tone grew only a little more serious as he stopped the rattling of his beads.

Zenitsu seemed to be sweating bullets as he seemed intently focused on some unknown force. His eyes were shot open and he started to shake, Teeth barren and fingers twitching as he raised his hands up to his ears.

"I.. I-I hear it.." Zenitsu mumbled out an uneasy lilt, Jaw shaking.

"Hear what?" Gyomei prodded.

"T-The Kasugai crows.. The Kakushi base.. I-It's being attacked!" Zenitsu yelped out, Stumbling back a few feet.

A unanimous shock washed over the group like a tidal wave to a sandy shore, The news startling everyone on edge.

"What?!" Shizuko yelled in disbelief as he moved over to Zenitsu. Lowering his head to meet eye to eye as he searched for any sign of doubt, An unsure gaze, Anything he could find to try disprove his declaration.

But he came up empty, Only staring back into shaking saffron irises. The hands over Zenitsu's ears tightened as he howled out in pain. He fell to his knees, The sheer volume of the crows combined with his hearing was too much as he felt ichor start to trickle at his fingertips.

"Zoritso!" Inosuke called out as he instantly rushed over to his friend's side.

Gyomei at this point had unsheathed the axe and chain from within his overbearing haori, Already given enough confirmation from his Tsuguko's reaction as he tightened the grip on the wooden handle and chain.

He ignored the suffering of the younger slayers, His expression firming up.

"We must go at once then, No time to spa-"

"Blood Demon Art: Electrokinesis, Third form: Thunder Swarm!" A voice suddenly yelled out from within the storm and as soon as it finished, The attack commenced.

Black bolts of lightning shot out of nowhere, Bursting out from the blade of Kaigaku, Leaping down from the tree branches.

☆♡☆

"I'll see you soon, 'Tsuri"

Those words. Those five simple words echoed in every little corner of her mind. On paper they seemed so little, So obscure. Small talk to the normal ear, In a normal conversation it would be such a normal farewell and by all means it was.

But it just didn't sit right, Not with Mitsuri.

She ran fast through the snow, Her legs were burning as she tried to focus her total concentration breathing. She maneuvered around rocks and over fallen logs, Carefully but quickly ascending the tough terrain with ease.

Her heart pounded so rapidly in her chest so much so that it was painful yet Mitsuri continued onwards. She had to keep going, She needed to get to the shrine as fast as possible.

Keep going, Don't stop. Not for a single moment.

Mitsuri had been running for who knows long, Hours maybe, She hadn't stopped for a second. An awful feeling sat dormant in her chest, A foreboding omen that unsettled her for too long.

As soon as she had heard those five little words she'd known that something was wrong-

No. Mitsuri had always known something was wrong. A draining parasite that sat in the back of her mind, Eating away at her for years now. Those words.. It was just those five little words that made her realise what that something was.

The parasite had been nibbling away at her, Planting little ideas of possibility and doubt into her passing thoughts every time she and [F/N] talked. Back then she had brushed them off, Not completely of course but enough to where there was plausible deniability. Just enough to where she could push it out of her mind.

But when [F/N] had muttered those words, Spoke them in such a normal tone of voice there was absolutely no more avoiding it. Her doubts, The possibilities.. She needed to face them.

Or maybe it wasn't those words specifically, It was the way [F/N] had looked at her when she said them.

Her stare, Her blank doe-eyed gaze permeated into Mitsuri's mind. The picture in her mind vivid as it was as she first saw it.

The smile [F/N] had on her face just didn't quite reach her eyes, A small little smile that felt so wrong looking back on it. The dull stare that pleaded to Mitsuri's own, Begging her no matter how unconsciously it may have been.

It was such a melancholy gaze, A sad little smile. She remembers now the tiny quirk of her lip.

Mitsuri should of done something sooner.

Back then Mitsuri herself couldn't process the deeper meaning. But she remembered her body reacted sooner than she herself should of, Grasping onto [F/N]. Holding her hand as she tried to get inside the carriage.

Subconsciously she had recognised the meaning. She should of said something, Should of done something. Ask her to stay the night, Go with her, Or even just offer her a simple hug then maybe [F/N] wouldn't think that way.

But in the end she did nothing. She just let go of her hand, Feeling the warmth slip away from her grasp.

Only a few hours later did the true meaning really render inside of her mind, And when it did it hit her like nothing else ever did before. What it meant, She knows now.

As soon as Mitsuri knew she had taken off, Running off into the streets without a second thought. Something bad would happen, Something terrible would happen if she didn't get there to her on time.

Mitsuri knew she shouldn't of let go of [F/N]'s hand. The regret pounding throughout her bloodstream as she felt tears involuntarily drip down her cheeks. She shouldn't of let go.

Even though she didn't do anything back then didn't mean she couldn't do something to stop it now. Mitsuri needed to, She wouldn't let [F/N] slip away once more. Never again, She will be there for her this time.

And as she heard the call of the crows, Mitsuri knew that this would be her last chance to do so.

☆♡☆

"Moon Breathing, Fourteenth Form: Catastrophe, Tenman Crescent Moon"

Siphoning ultraviolet crescents flew out haphazardly into the fighting ground, Crashing down onto the nigh-derelict rooftops throwing rubble out everywhere. Several stray crescents hurtling past the slayer, Barely able to avoid the attack.

It was absolute chaos, Pandemonium. A spectacle of whip-like half-moons striking at it's enemy so swift that any normal person would be severed in half in an instant.

By chance however [F/N] was no ordinary person as he dodged and weaved throughout what very little openings were given, Body contorting and swimming through the gaps as he tried his very best to land his own attacks.

"Soul Breathing Second Form: Seven Separate Spirit Slashes"

"Moon Breathing, Seventh Form: Mirror of Misfortune, Moonlit"

"Soul Breathing Sixth Form: Apotheosis Blade o' Ascension"

"Moon Breathing, Ninth Form: Waning Moonswaths"

Kokushibo never gave much of a chance however, His movements or slashes of his sword never strayed from what could be considered perfect form. The closest so far [F/N] had come to severing his head was when he had lobbed off an arm, Which regenerated within a split second.

It was enough to frustrate anyone, Anyone but [F/N].

The wide smile he had worn at the prospect of a fight had grown into a euphoric grin stretched ear to ear. For the first time in years, [F/N] had felt alive.

Though the several cuts on his arms and legs bled, Though he had been fighting for several hours he had never gotten tired. Not once did he falter or stumble, Not once did he succumb to exhaustion.

Not even the aching in his lungs, Which grew more painful with every breathe he took. The adrenaline made him feel nothing.

Kokushibo on the other hand felt the same way, Yet the anger in his chest only seemed to infest inside him more and more as the fight went on. He wanted this one to suffer, He wanted to watch this one bleed out on the ground while he crushed his windpipe.

The disrespect he had shown, Both to him and his sister. The careless attitude The Hashira had towards him, The haori he was desecrating. It made him absolutely furious. Even more so when he found more difficulty than normal when attacking him.

His transparent world showing his body to be at it's peak potential, Though oddly enough he wasn't able to see through the porcelain mask on his body. Kokushibo had to admit this was the longest fight he'd had in centuries.

The man he fought having zero fighting spirit, An oddity. Something he had never came across within a human, Combined with the mastery of the blade and his repetitive action movement he made a formidable combatant.

Even though he despised his opponent, He had to lend a begrudging respect.

[F/N]'s sword swayed along with his own movements. White wisps of translucent mist danced along the blade and left a shivering trail as it went. It was beautiful, Glowing so softly in the moonlight yet it struck so hard it burned like fire.

[F/N] landed in a crouching position after dodging another attack just by the hair on his back. Pushing both his hand and foot forward he launched himself towards Uppermoon one at high speeds.

Yelling out his next attack he readied his sword

"Soul Breathing Fifth Form: Noumenon High Dragon!"

The wisps tailing the edge of his blade were set ablaze, Picking up in velocity the trail formed into a tail as [F/N] rushed towards Kokushibo.

The demon readied his own attack in turn as The Soul Hashira's technique bursting into the shape of a gigantic jaw-opened dragon speeding towards his form, Twisting and swirling around the demon ready to swallow him whole.

"Moon Breathing, Sixth Form: Perpetual Night, Lonely Moon - Incessant"

Kokushibo swung his own sword down as soon the dragons gaping maws were about to bite down on him, An array of hyper-violet crescents exploded from Kokushibo's blade.

The sheer kinetic energy caused by the clashing of their swords erupted from the centre of it all like an immovable object to an unstoppable force. The energy hit the ground below them, Blasting both of them apart by the raw force.

Flying off of the tiled roof, [F/N] was shot up far into the air with Kokushibo in the opposite direction.

[F/N] yelled out in surprise as he flailed around in the air, Spinning and swooning around as he started to fall downwards.

Wind rushing through his kimono as he watched the ground grow larger and larger. He raised his sword and took a deep breath in, Ready to counteract gravity with the force of an attack.

"Soul Breathing Third Form: Soul fire, Burn bright!"

Just as he was about to hit the ground he struck his sword, His breathing technique bursting out into a bonfire as it connected with the dirt of the courtyard.

It was successful. Enough to stop the fall but also enough to throw him back up.

Luckily however he had hit one of the lower roofs of the shrine. And thankfully due to his recovery breathing the damage wasn't serious, Only a few scratches and later bruises to decorate his skin.

"Ack-.." [F/N] coughed, The dust from the impact hitting him as he lain sprawled out on the roof. His chest moved up and down, Breathing in and out while only feeling a tiny bit of pain in his ribs.

"Wow.. That could of been bad.." He heaved, Voice hoarse and rough. He raised his upper body so he was now in a hunched sitting position, Completely still except from the movements of his lungs.

[F/N] sat there for a moment not moving in the slightest. He could no longer sense Kokushibo's powerful aura, At least not nearby anyways. It seemed like the force of their blades clashing sent him flying to the other side of the shrine.

That's fine. It gave [F/N] time to recuperate from the non-stop attacks they threw at each other, He needed to savour these moments as best he could.

[F/N] looked around at the destruction of the shrine, It hurt. It felt like his heart was wrenched out of his chest every time he came across levelled rooms, Broken walls and fallen statues.

The home [F/N] resided in for years, One that had provided warmth and comfort when nothing else did had been destroyed. Memories long gone played out in his mind as he came to terms with his loss. It didn't matter now though, He supposed.

He ran his hands down his body to examine for wounds. Feeling along the torn fabric of his uniform and the dips in his flesh [F/N] figured that he wasn't too badly injured. While there were a few points where his fingers came up bloody he had judged it wasn't too bad.

It didn't hurt anyways, Not to him.

Settling his hands onto the roof he pushed himself up with only minimal effort. Stumbling a little to gather his balance he finally steadied himself upon the roof's wooden structure in the middle, Walking on it similar to a tight-rope.

He stalked along the middle beam, Movements similar to a feline's as he put one foot in front of the other.

Rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck [F/N] decided it was time to go back into battle. He needed to at least buy enough time for the last of the residents to evacuate the building, Afterwards there was only one thing left to do.

As he strolled along the edge of the roof he made his way to the end, Lowering his knees and k-

"[F/N]!!"

He froze in place.

That voice, No.. She wasn't supposed to be here. This wasn't how it went in his head, Not at all.

"[F/N]! P-Please.. Turn around.. Alright?" The voice yelled, A high-pitched tone that sounded so desperate in that one moment that [F/N] couldn't disobey.

And once he did turn around, The expression on Mitsuri's face hurt more than any wound inflicted on his body.

"'Tsuri, Hey! You're not suppose to be here.. You know?" [F/N] chuckled, A practiced sound that seemed so strained now as the façade he had tried to build up for so long crumbled down around him along with the shrine.

Mitsuri was sobbing. Tears leaked out from her face like a faucet, Her eyes were bloodshot like she had been crying for a while. Something that was most likely true. Every so often she let out a small choked wail from within her throat, Gasps for air following it close.

It looked as if her knee's would buckle under her weight. It was such a painful sight that [F/N] couldn't bare to look at her.

It felt like his heart was beating a hundred miles per hour, Thumping madly in her chest like a metal drum. He tried to keep a straight face, Some kind of mental barrier he could place between him and the woman he called his best friend.

"D-Don't act like that.. Just.. P-Please just don't act like that right now, [F/N].." Mitsuri yelled out, Her voice pained and shrill.

"'Tsuri.. I.." [F/N] couldn't find the words to say, His mind blank. No words could explain himself, None at all.

"I-I don't wanna hear an excuse.. Please.. I.. I just want to talk.. N-No excuses or lies.. Just the truth." She cried.

[F/N] stared back at her through the mask, Guts turning at the sight. However the porcelain face held up as he wore a blank face, One you might see at a poker table. He mulled over her words, An unnoticeable cold sweat suddenly dripping down from the side of his head.

"..Okay" [F/N] whispered. It was such a low tone but in that single moment it felt like it was just the two of them in the world, Making his mumble seem like a deafening scream to her ears.

"[F/N].. I.. I'm so sorry.." Mitsuri cried. She brought her shaking hands up to cup her face as she cried into them, A fleeting attempt to hide her grief.

[F/N] shook his head.

"Mitsuri.. What do you need to be sorry for?" [F/N] said. A levelled tone playing in his voice.

"I.. I s-should of done something sooner.. I should've known that you were feeling like this, I.. Why couldn't I notice.." She shook her head warily, Trying her best to hold back the choked sobs from her throat.

[F/N] steadied his breathing, He couldn't break.

"Mitsuri, I'm fine. You don't need to wo-"

"[F/N] I'M NOT STUPID, JUST LISTEN TO ME!" Mitsuri screamed.

[F/N] flinched, The sheer volume of it catching him of guard. In all of his years knowing Mitsuri, [F/N] had never seen him act like this, Like a completely new person stood before him now.

"I-I'm not stupid.. I can see how everyone's feeling.. I can always tell how angry Shinobu is or- or how unhappy Giyuu is all the time.. I can see how everyone is truly feeling, That's always been my talent.." Mitsuri lamented.

She wiped off the tears with her sleeve

"A-And just because you hide behind a mask.. That doesn't make you an exception, [F/N]! It never has..!" Mitsuri shouted once more, Now staring up at her best friend. The person she's known all her life freeze in place like a statue at her words.

"It's just.. All the time you're so.. So sad.. I-I've known you for so long and it's been going on.. F-For the same length of time.. S-So much that I just took it as normal but looking back now I feel so- so stupid!" She cried out.

[F/N] couldn't respond, He felt like a spotlight had been shun directly on him now. Like he stood in front of an unwanted audience as he stared her down.

"Y-You're scaring me, [F/N].. Y-You're really, really scaring me.. Just please.. T-Take off the mask.." Mitsuri broke down into a quiet sob, Soft cries aching her throat.

[F/N] looked back at her, An indescribable emotion etched into the porcelain of the mask. He felt his fingers twitch before raising them towards the straps. Lightly unlocking the clasp at the back she pulled the leather down from her head, Lowering the kitsune mask into the palms of her hands.

[F/N] stood there, The blank expression she wore was flooded with tears flowing free from her eyes as she gazed down at her best friend breaking down. Her lip twitched, Unable to say anything as she barely held back quiet cries of her own.

"'Tsuri.. Please, Just don't look at me like that. Just.. Just don't" [F/N] said, Swallowing back her pain.

"I.. I just.. I.." Mitsuri babbled as she clutched the centre of her chest, Trying to soothe the ache of her heart.

"You've got to leave.. 'Tsuri, It's not safe here, Alright..? I've got to get back to the fight.."

"N-No!" Mitsuri yelped out, Cutting off [F/N] prematurely.

"P-Please.. 'Tsuri, You've got to go.." [F/N] said. Her breath was growing more laboured by the second as the tears dripped down her eyes.

"N-No, You're not going back to the fight, [F/N].. Y-You can't go, You can't.. I.." She bit down on her lip, The thought trailing with her words were cut short.

"Why..?"

"B-Because when when you go into that fight.. Y-You're hoping that you won't come out of it.. And it terrifies me.." Mitsuri cried.

Her words felt like a knife jabbing into [F/N]'s heart, Like a blade was eternally twisting and turning inside of her arteries. It hurt, Out of everyone she had ever met, Mitsuri was the last one she would have wanted to say that to her.

"J-Just please.. G-Get off the roof, Come down.. D-Do not waste yourself on this roof, [F/N]. D-Don't you remember our promise..? Please.. J-Just come to me..?" Mitsuri pleaded, Reaching her hand out for [F/N] to take.

Her words felt so enticing, Like an oasis in a scorching desert.

Something she had been searching years for, Only to turn up in a gift wrapped box sitting on her doorstep. [F/N] felt her fingers twitch, So desperately wanting to reach out and take her hands.

But the letter had already been sent, Her mind had already been made up so long ago. As much as she wanted to hold her hand, Run away and never look back [F/N] knew that it wouldn't be enough.

"'Tsuri.." [F/N] mumbled. Mitsuri caught on quickly to her tone and her eyes widened.

"N-No, [F/N]! Please.. Come down, P-Please just take my hand.. PLEASE!" She cried out as she watched [F/N] place the mask back on the now his face.

"'Tsuri.. Do not feel guilty over me, You were the best friend I could of ever asked for. You did your best.." [F/N] smiled.

The mask was now matching his expression as it looked down on Mitsuri, Who rushed forward but her knees finally buckled making her fall forward.

"Ah-!" She cried out. [F/N] tried to resist the urge to go and help as he spoke.

"'Tsuri.. You still haven't recovered from the swordsmith village attack.. Not to mention it looks like you've been running for hours.

"Please, Don't exert any more energy." [F/N] said as he turned around back towards the direction Kokushibo would be in.

Mitsuri screamed out for [F/N].

"P-PLEASE, [F/N]! L-LET ME COME WITH YOU, PLEASE! A-AT LEAST LET ME COME WITH YOU. W-WE GO TOGETHER, L-LIKE WE ALWAYS HAVE! TOGETHER!!" Her voice was so painful it tore a hole into [F/N] as he tried not to run to her side.

"I'm sorry, 'Tsuri.. Between the two of us, You have people that will miss you. There are a lot of people out there who love you, Adore you not just for your strength but just for yourself. Between the two of us.. You'll have people who will mourn your loss." [F/N] said.

Mitsuri didn't even have time to scream out as Seijun rushed over from somewhere south. She had been put to help with evacuations and Mitsuri's screams had alerted her over.

"[F/N]-sama! Kanroji-san, Are you both alright?!" Seijun asked, Alarmed by the incoherent babble of Mitsuri in front of her as she desperatley tried to pull herself to her feet. A futile attempt as she just fell back down.

"..We're alright, Thank you.. I hope evacuations are going well?" [F/N] asked. Cocking his head to the side as he tried his best to focus on the maiden instead of the mourning.

"Smoothly. Due to the combined efforts of the slayers and the handmaidens, The first round of escapee's have successfully gotten away… Though there are quite a few many still around.." Seijun said, Quickly bowing down to her superior.

[F/N] nodded.

"Seijun. Thank you for helping out with the evacuations, I sincerely appreciate it.. All I ask of you now is that you could escort Kanroji-san out of the area. She's in no state to fight and is delirious." [F/N] turned back to look at the two, A reassuring smile sat uneasy on the mask.

Seijun nodded as she started to pick up Mitsuri by the armpits. At the touch of the handmaiden Mitsuri instantly started to scream and flail around in her grasp, In complete hysterics as she cried out [F/N]'s name.

"Kanroji-san, Please calm down-"

"[F/N]! [F/N]! PLEASE! L-LET GO OF ME, LET ME GO! [F/N] COME DOWN, COME TO ME PLEASE- I CAN'T DO THIS WITHOUT YOU!" She screamed. Despite her inhuman strength her muscles were so tired from both her injuries and the marathon here that she could barely even struggle in Seijun's hold, Just scream and scream as she tried to get out of her grasp.

[F/N] turned back, Walking on the roof like a lamb to the slaughter as he tried his best to ignore the gut-wrenching pain in his stomach. He had made up his mind, And as much as [F/N] adored Mitsuri it wasn't going to change anything.

Her screams got further and further away as he drew his sword once more.

As they did, He raised his head high and smiled.

☆♡☆

"Blood Demon Art: Electrokinesis, Third form: Thunder Swarm!"

Black bolts of ebony struck down from Kaigaku's blade, The steel conducting the movements as he brought it down onto the group of slayers he had been tracking for quite a while now.

Several yells called out into the vastness of the forest, Snow exploding into the air once the thunder whipped at the ground. Kaigaku cackled as he heard the screams of his prey, The game of cat and mouse had begun.

He had leapt out from one of the tree branches, Ones he had been carefully maneuvering on as he quietly trailed along with the group.

Kaigaku had struck at the right time, They had taken the bait. The red cloth was a carefully placed lure he had swiftly placed in order to lead them into a honey trap, It was easy. Especially once he knew who he was dealing with.

He was shocked at first. Not in a million years did he expect to come across them, Not at all. It was something that seemed impossible to him, But here he was pouncing in for the attack.

Gyomei, Zenitsu, Shizuko. Along with that boar-headed kid they were well-known targets, Once he had lain his eyes on them his heart seemed to soar in his chest. A sadistic kind of glee bursting up from inside of him.

People who had looked down on him in the past, People who had treated him like he was just another person and not the prodigy he really was. The kind of people he truly despised were right in front of him, All grouped together.

Even though he was ordered to attack the shrine from the other side, He had to take this. It was an opportunity he couldn't pass by on, Not for a single second.

They group was launched into the air. The force pushing them away from the focal point as Kaigaku watched the boar-headed kid land into a tree, Hitting his head and passing out while the other two kids were pushed off a steep hill.

He laughed like a closing in hyena. His body falling close to the ground as he prepared to land, All before a chain launches out of the snow dust, Hurtling straight towards the demon.

Kaigaku swerved. Only dodging the metal by a hair as the mist finally cleared, Revealing The Stone Hashira standing strong in-between the snow. Chains in hand he swayed them about as the axe in his hand started to swing between his fingers.

Another chain shot out from beneath his haori sending it straight towards him at nigh-impossible speeds.

Kaigaku breathed in to steady his style. Tossing his sword up into the air he threw out a hand and wrapped it tight around the chain. Tugging once he screamed out into the night

"Blood demon art-"

An explosion of electricity erupted out from his palms, A black current travelling down the steel chain as it quickly developed into a shockwave heading straight towards Gyomei.

Sensing the incoming thunder he let go of the chain and threw out the axe as it hurtled towards Kaigaku.

Catching his sword in a single hand Kaigaku brought it down with a clash! The metal hitting together with hot sparks bursting out from the sheer force of their connection.

Kaigaku landed on the floor. Gyomei's axe successfully deflected as he hit the ice, Steadying himself with a single hand as he peered up at the Hashira with a Cheshire grin.

"Gyomei.. You've bulked up a bit since I last saw you." Kaigaku sneered. A condescending drawl drawing out every syllable as he peered up at his former peer.

Gyomei halted in his actions, A sudden stop to his quick movements. Grasping the unelectrified chains it pulled on the axe, Catching it in a single hand as he froze in place.

"That voice.. It cannot be.." He muttered. Memories seemed sing out inside of his mind, Voices he remembered coming back to him for the first time in years. Ones he had pushed away, Hidden and ran from yet all coming up within the brutal song of the demon's voice.

Kaigaku's grin grew bigger.

"What? It's not the kid you let be thrown out? The person you discarded so easily? The one whose gonna put this blade through your skull?" Kaigaku cackled, Raising his sword and pointing to the sharp metal.

"Oh.. Right. My bad, You're unable to see the thing that's gonna to kill you. How sad!" Kaigaku laughed as he gripped the side of his head, Tufts of ebony hair sticking out as he hollered like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Gyomei's frown got sharper.

"A low hanging insult.. Even for you, Kaigaku.. It pains me to know how badly you've fallen.." Gyomei lamented as he recalled back on the time's they shared together.

Kaigaku, An orphaned child. One of nine who he had taken in at his temple, One of nine who he cared for like his very own. One of the children who he had worked himself down to the bone for, Tried his hardest everyday to provide for. Even going as far as to starve himself just so they would have enough food to satisfy them.

Even though he was blind, Even though he was starving almost every second of the day making him frail and scrawny he worked to provide.

He had considered them all family, Even if they had no blood connection it never mattered. The covenant was stronger than the womb, They loved each other no matter how bad it would get.

But that one fateful day, That one day was like carved stone in his mind. The wisteria incense put out, The betrayal he had known as he heard the screams of terror from the children he considered family.

Kaigaku had been a thief, He always had been. But when he had gone so far as to sneak out at night, Run into a demon and sacrifice the peers he had known just for a chance at survival that wasn't even guaranteed.

They were all slaughtered by the very thing Kaigaku chose to become. It proved how little he cared, How little humanity he had in the first place.

In the end, He could only save two. And it cost him his freedom, His chance at a normal life.

All because of the demon in front of him.

"How badly I've fallen? Gyomei, I'm upper six now! I've been risen to such great heights, By a man who could actually see my worth!" Kaigaku proclaimed, Raising his hands out as if to announce this to the world.

Gyomei paused, Letting the words sink in.

"Then.. I doubt that man was a good judge of character.. You've always been such a weaselly little boy." Gyomei stated. Even though he couldn't see he could practically feel the sudden drop in Kaigaku's smile.

Kaigaku stood there, The hands he had raise shook. This wasn't the answer he had been expecting from the man.

"..How dare you.. My master is an honourable man! He knows my worth!" Kaigaku yelled out. Baring his canines out towards The Stone Hashira who stood there motionless, Starting to rattle his beads once more.

"No.. You've always been such a pitiful little thing.. Such a selfish child.. You have as much worth as a rat in the gutter." Gyomei announced with such a sad and nostalgic tone, Yet it held so much weight that it felt like a stone to the head to Kaigaku.

His jaw fell agape, Displaying his rows of sharp teeth. From the way Kaigaku was imagining this day in his head, He didn't expect this of all responses.

He had envisioned the sheer pain drown out the features on Gyomei's face, Tears drip down from his eyes as he begged for forgiveness under the sharp point of Kaigaku's claws. He'd cry, Yell in pain as he was slowly mutilated in the slowest way possible.

He didn't expect to be fixed in place, Feet feeling so heavy he was unable to lift them. Unable to do anything as he stared him down. He felt helpless, So helpless. And that made him angry.

"I-I am powerful now! I am strong! You just can't comprehend how powerful I am now, Y-You're the one that's weak! You just can't believe how great I am now!" Kaigaku yelled, His voice suddenly sounding hoarse as he gripped the hilt of his sword tighter.

"Really.. Are you really that great?" Gyomei asked quietly.

"O-Of course I am!" Kaigaku yelled back in response.

"Then.. If you truly are.. You would know a distraction when you see one.." Gyomei finished.

Kaigaku's brow raised before a sudden prescense- No, Two presences appearing from behind him at nigh-impossible speeds.

He only turned around in time to see the two boys, Zenitsu and Shizuko, The two boys he knew so well raise their swords in a prepared attack.

"Thunder Breathing, First Form: Thunderclap and Flash"

"Earth Breathing, Second Form: Seismic Shake"

They screamed in unison, Only a few feet away from Kaigaku's stunned body as they raised their respective weapons. Thunder started to crackle at the metal of Zenitsu's katana while the murky smell of fresh compost emanated from Shizuko's machete as they charged towards him.

Kaigaku lowered his knee's and jumped back just in time to avoid the massive crater left in the place where he stood.

"You bastards-!" Kaigaku screamed out as he was flown out into the air. He looked down at the horrified visage of Zenitsu, While he scowled at the enraged Shizuko as they jumped up towards him once more.

"Ne, You're one to talk..!" Shizuko screamed as he used the tree branches to throw himself up to Kaigaku's level.

"K-Kaigaku.. How could you!" Zenitsu cried as he followed in his peer's footsteps.

"Oh shut up you wimp! You know exactly why!" Kaigaku screamed as he watched the two slayers come up towards him, Preparing another attack.

Just as the two were about to swing their weapons a metal flail flew out from beneath them all, Shooting out towards Kaigaku.

This isn't good, This isn't good at all. Kaigaku was seething, This moment was suppose to be glorious with him on top and those below quivering under his iron fist. But he had no more time to daydream as he was about to be attacked on three separate fronts.

Zenitsu directly below, Shizuko from the front and Gyomei from the side. He couldn't lose, He was special.

Quickly, Kaigaku had no time to think as he activated his blood demon art. His sword igniting as he yelled out his attack.

"Thunder Breathing, Fourth Form: Distant Thunder!"

Kaigaku screamed out as bolts erupted from the cold steel of his sword, A versatile attack reaching in all directions. Below, Front and side thunder crackled out in response to the attack.

He wouldn't let them kill him, Anyone but them. He knew he was worthy, But also knew he had to prove it.

And this was the perfect way

☆♡☆

Kokushibo stood in the middle of the rubble, Standing in the midst of broken wood, stone and clay as he examined his surroundings.

He had been thrown to the other side of the shrine, An unexpected force from the joint impact pushing him off the roof. Kokushibo had meant to get back to the fight, Get back to that accursed Hashira.

But as he looked around, He found himself hesitating.

He took a deep breath in, Inhaling the cold night's air into his lungs as he reminisced on old memories. It would be the last time he would ever get to experience this after all, The shrine was in complete disrepair now.

It was bittersweet, The memories he had here played in front of him like a reeling tape. How he'd come back from a mission only to be greeted with the smell of stewing vegetables and sweet berries. He'd smile and walk inside only to be greeted by [F/N] and Yorichii.

Now the mere scent of human food disgusted him.

The shrine would be destroyed, Not like there was much to save in the first place. The slayers had desecrated it, Infected it like parasites and transfigured it into something unrecognisable from its original state.

And just like a parasite leeching on the flesh of an arm, The only solution was to cut it off. It wasn't her shrine he was destroying, No. It was already gone, He was just levelling another base of operations. Nothing more.

Kokushibo was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of footsteps hitting the tiles, A slow pace as they walked up to his location down below in the garden

He turned, Looking up to see that slayer on top of a roof point, Balancing on a single foot. The moon shone down from behind him, High in the sky to illuminate their oncoming brawl as his haori danced in the breeze.

A neuron clicked within Kokushibo's mind once his sight connected with the mans stance, A realisation dawning on him.

"You.. I remember you now.." Kokushibo drawled as he fully turned over to look up at him.

"Really? I don't remember us ever meeting." [F/N] said carelessly, Yet there was still a hint of curiosity in him as he waited for the demon to go on.

"No.. We have not met.. But you, You are the slayer who killed one thousand of my kind.. In a single year.." Kokushibo said, Eyes narrowing as he stared him down.

He remembered his the notice from his master ringing inside his mind, The announcement demanding the death of this slayer for the crime of efficiency. This one single demon hunter had managed to cause such alarm in Muzan, A feat never done before.

They had never managed to catch him, The slayer was rather tricky.

Moved about place to place and never lingered long, Never slept in any inn's or districts. Any demon that did come face to face with him however was instantly shot down and killed in seconds.

Normally, Kokushibo would hate to see a waste of talent die out. He never understood why slayers would prefer staying human, Instead of becoming a demon to perfect and hone their technique to perfection.

But knowing the weight this man had, Knowing the haori he disgraced and the artefacts he wore with no care. Kokushibo had no bargain to present to the slayer, Instead enticed by bringing his head back to Muzan for the reward.

"What is your name.." Kokushibo asked.

"Fujimori." [F/N] replied, Shrugging his shoulders.

"Your full name.." Kokushibo prodded.

[F/N] wondered why he wanted to know, Why it was necessary information. But in the end he supposed that the demon wanted to know what name to write on the trophy stand.

"It's just Fujimori." [F/N] answered back, If that was the case then he wouldn't give him the satisfaction. If he was going down then he was going to make it as inconvenient as possible for his killer.

Kokushibo breathed out hot air from his nose. The careless tone in the slayers voice angered him, How could he be taking this so casually? A fight with Uppermoon one and he took it like child's play.

It was infuriating.

He drew out his sword once more, The flesh pulsating as it grew out in length. [F/N] in turn drew his own blade from the sheathe on his back, Pointing it at him like the judge to the accused.

"Alright then. Don't hold out now, Better give me all you've got!" [F/N] laughed as he jumped down from the shrine spire, Sword raised as he swung it down.

"Soul Breathing, First Form: Psyche Cutter!" He screamed, Sword alight with white wisps as it hit down onto the place Kokushibo once was, Rocks erupting out leaving only a crater.

[F/N] turned around, Seeing Kokushibo about to pierce into his back he raised his sword in response.

Metal on flesh connected with a clash! Both swordsmen's blades pushed against each other, Battling for that single opening to end the fight once and for all. [F/N] struggled, Letting out little groans as Kokushibo's strength was unmatchable.

Kokushibo yelled out, A pained scream. He swung out a forceful attack making [F/N] back up as their swords rapidly connected back and forth, Withdrawing and crashing right back into each other. If [F/N] stopped for a single moment, He'd be cut down.

[F/N] could barely dodge the oncoming breathing techniques as he tried to let off his own, It was one after the other so much that he couldn't take his mind away. He supposed it was a good thing.

Mitsuri's face, That desperate expression. Her hysterical screams for him to come back, To not do what he needed to. It was all set into the stone of his mind, Appeared when he blinked and hallucinated her voice.

[F/N] was thankful he had no time to think about it.

Their blades made sparks burst out like a faulty lighter. [F/N] started to struggle, The grip on his sword beginning to fall despite his iron-clad grip. His grin never faltered though, This was what he had been expecting.

[F/N] was only human, His stamina was bound to run out eventually and he knew this.

Jumping back up onto the roof to avoid another attack, Kokushibo quickly followed after. It was labouring as [F/N] tried to balance both his feet and his continued slashes at the same time, Being pushed back by the force of the demon's blade.

He felt his breath get heavier with each inhale, The pain in his chest doing nothing to help him as he felt his fingers ache. He only had so much left to go before his body finally gave up, Before he collapsed. This was [F/N] chance, To go out in one single blaze, Hopefully taking down the Uppermoon with him. His final action as a slayer.

Ever since he saw the kanji in his eyes, Ever since he felt the raw power coming off of him [F/N] knew what action to take.

The Eighth Form of Soul Breathing. The most powerful of them all, An attack that left [F/N] bloodied and beaten into a coma the first time he used it. Hospitalized for months in critical condition.

The year onwards he hadn't used it, He didn't dare. It was an attack only supported by the blade he was wielding, The Soul Sword. An attack that utilized the trapped spirits in the blade, Using the power of them all in one devastating move affecting both the user and target.

He felt the trapped souls of one thousand course through the hilt of the blade as they continued to duel against each other in rapid motions, The concentrated spirits radiating through his skin. If he used this attack, It was bound to kill both him and anyone in the surrounding area.

But Kokushibo? He wasn't sure.

Thankfully however the evacuations were successful, [F/N] had made sure to check. Everyone was out and at least a few miles away from the shrine, It was just the two of them now fighting to the death.

[F/N] smiled lightly. No one would get in the way, Not the hand-maidens, Not Mitsuri, No one. There would be no casualties on [F/N]'s hands, That was good.

[F/N] needed to try. To end it all and try to bring at least something good out of his death, To bring something good out of his life for once.

But then, He caught the faint hue of carmine red.

The mask's eyes widened as it caught the vivid colour tucked hidden within the rubble, It was barely there but [F/N] could make out a face. One that sparked up his own in recognition.

It was Maika.

Maika sat hidden behind a torn wall, She looked wounded with her kosobe being stained in thick ichor. She stared wide-eyed at the fight, Looking absolutely horrified. Her hands cupped over her mouth, Not daring to speak for a second.

But what concerned [F/N] the most was her legs, They were trapped under a large wall crumbled down onto her. She was unable to get out.

No.. No this wasn't good. [F/N]'s heart beat faster and faster by the moment, Losing concentration from the fight as he stared the injured girl head on trying to make sense of the sight in front of him.

Maika was still here, She had somehow gotten back to the shrine only to get caught within the destruction. Did the evacuation team miss her? Did they not find her? [F/N] felt his jaw shake, He couldn't use the Eight Form. Not while she was still here.

[F/N] dragged his eyes away from the girl, Trying not to alert the demon of her presence. Before he had taken this fight with a careless grin but as he saw the young girl there, Injured and terrified the stakes had finally hit him.

Her life was at stake, And somewhere deep inside him he wasn't willing to let that life slip through his fingers.

He can die any other day, But she needed to go on. Maika was too young.

[F/N] pushed himself up into the air, Sword readying itself above his head as he ignored the implications of his thoughts. He couldn't use the eighth form, Not while Maika was here. So [F/N] had to settle on the next best thing as the wisps grew into a blazing inferno.

"Soul Breathing, Seventh Form: Takamagahara's Wrath, Divine Judgement."

Moonlight danced around his sword as gravity pulled him down forward straight to the demon. Spirits trailed along as energy picked up. He felt the air shift around him and the energy pulse in his sword.

Kokushibo raised his own sword once again, A counterattack ready to happen.

"Sixteenth Form: Moonbow, Half Moon"

His sword moved up and before he knew it, [F/N]'s sword was at his neck, Sharp side pressing into the side of his neck. [F/N] screamed out, Exerting his energy as the fibres of Kokushibo's neck started to tear-

SLASH!

[F/N] landed on the other side of the roof, Sandal soles lightly touching the ground as he steadied himself.

[F/N] stood there completely still, The only movements of his figure was the light breeze passing through his clothing. He sheathed his sword, All before his knee's shook and [F/N] stumbled hard.

Copper was tasted at the tip of his tongue as he stumbled around on the roof losing his balance. He could only feel the sudden burn in his abdomen as his foot pressed down onto nothing, Letting him tip off the roof.

That speed, That blinding speed. Kokushibo didn't utilise it before, He had been formidable yet.. [F/N] felt the dawning realisation rise.

Kokushibo had been toying with him.

He had drawn out this fight, Holding back his true strength. Those cuts placed onto [F/N]'s body were a way to torture him, To let his blood be drawn and to feel agonising pain in the highest degree.

[F/N] never stood a chance.

[F/N] knew this was what he wanted, The thing he had been craving this entire time. This should of been a sweet release, Yet there was such a bitter aftertaste that it filled his mouth along with the blood. Overwhelming his senses.

He still wanted this, He did. It was a happy finality, It didn't matter whether he was in an immense amount of pain or not. It didn't matter at all. Yet the thought of Maika's fate was the one to spoil that moment.

Would she be okay? Would she be discovered by the demon?

He could barely comprehend the question as he hit the ground, World going red.

☆♡☆

Hack, Slash, Hack, Slash!

Kaigaku had barely any time to dodge the unrelenting slashes of Zenitsu, All while dodging the bloodthirsty hits of Shizuko's machete. Both desperate to get to his neck, To sever it and take it as their reward.

It wasn't even the most difficult part. Gyomei had still not moved an inch from his stance on the snow yet he kept sending out axe then flail, Ones Kaigaku couldn't even dodge at times due to the velocity at which they went.

Even then Kaigaku asked himself why Gyomei didn't dare to move from his position, This wasn't like the man he knew. The one who would charge head first into a problem and tackle it head on. It made him angry, Gyomei should be trying to kill him yet he chose to refrain.

And it made him absolutely livid when he found out the reason. Gyomei Himejima, The man who he had lived with for several years, The man who was his family only to be abandoned and ruined the life of all because of Kaigaku was holding back.

All because he still harboured love for him.

Kaigaku yelled out in frustration as he prepared another blood demon art, This time focusing off of the two boys who were still hurling attacks and insults at him as he targeted Gyomei instead.

The thought of him holding back infuriated Kaigaku to no end. Stupid human feelings.. It was disgusting. The notion of it, The action of it, The feelings that rose up inside Kaigaku himself were all absolutely disgusting.

"You fucking bitch!" Shizuko screamed as he charged at Kaigaku once more, Machete wildly trying to hack away at his neck.

Kaigaku dodged. Completely ignoring him in favour of charging at the other man as he got behind Shizuko, Pushing his foot into the dip of his back he used the forced momentum to launch him forward towards Gyomei.

"You absolutely worthless human being!" Kaigaku screamed His sword was raised as he charged at the blind man. Kaigaku ignored the way Gyomei's frown got deeper, Ignoring the way his own grew deeper as well as he got closer and closer. Black sparks jolting out from the metal.

"Himejima-san!" Zenitsu cried as he gave chase, Doing all he could to ignore the past both him and the demon shared as his blade charged up.

Shizuko joined in, Screaming his master's name as Kaigaku got closer. It was clear, Gyomei couldn't kill Kaigaku, He wouldn't. The memories they had shared together were too strong to be cut down for him.

He would rather die than kill one of his kids.

Despite how much Shizuko respected his master, He chided him for letting that get in the way. Even though Shizuko shared the same memories as Gyomei did with Kaigaku, He never let it get in the way.

Not in the way of his work.

Kaigaku was only a few inches away, Sword lightly grazing the skin of Gyomei's neck about to be cut down in an instant.

Come back, Now.

Kaigaku's eyes widened. The voice of Kokushibo, His master, Rang throughout his head. The telepathic link connected to him sounding an indescribable tone in his voice, Something he had never heard off his master before.

Emotion..

Kaigaku jolted away from Gyomei, Landing a few feet away from him as he skidded on the ground.

Zenitsu and Shizuko rushed over to Gyomei's side as he stood there frozen, Kaigaku had stopped. His senses told him so but for what reason.

Kaigaku looked back at the group and snarled at the feeling so persistant on bubbling up inside him. It was weakness, Human emotion. He had no time to think it over as he took off in a single shot of lightning, Leaving the group behind.

Shizuko snapped his head over to the sound of faraway thunder only to realise that the bastard was gone, Escaped while he was concerned over Gyomei's safety.

He gritted his teeth and screamed out into the night after him.

"Ne, Come back and face us! You're a coward, You've always been a coward.. COME BACK AND FIGHT US!" Shizuko hollered out, Voice echoing through the vast treeline surrounding them.

Shizuko could only hope that the demon he once called his brother could hear his yells as he was chased off into the night.

☆♡☆

Erratic sputters of blood erupted from [F/N]'s throat, Making ichor drip out of his mask and down his chin, Staining his already drenched uniform.

Everything hurt, Everything hurt so bad unlike before. [F/N] kept telling himself to breathe, In and out. It would be over soon, Everything will be over soon. He wouldn't need to worry anymore, He had got what he wanted.

[F/N]'s body made spasms, Wild jerks of motion as his back was propped up against fallen stone.

When he fell he had landed into a pile of rubble. Jaded rocks jagged into his flesh, Opening wounds and bursting blood vessels. If his vision wasn't blurry enough, The dust that came up from his heavy landing had made it nigh-impossible to see.

It was a miracle [F/N] was holding on as long as he was. The wound cut so deep into his abdomen that you could near see his guts. He had lost a lot of blood too, More than a normal person could survive losing.

He could barely make out the shape of the maiden only a few feet away cried quietly.

"F-Fujimori-sama.. Fujimori-sama.." She wept. Tears were left unashamedly flowing down her face as [F/N] lolled his head to meet hers.

He had to blink once to remove the visage of Mitsuri appearing on her face. It was funny, [F/N] had never noticed the visual similarities between the two until now. If his lungs were in shape, He might of laughed at the thought.

"Mi-Maika.. Listen closely.." [F/N] rasped out. Voice hoarse as dry as the maiden nodded quickly, Intently ready to hear his final words.

"Y-You need to trust me here.. Y-You won't be able to get out in time.. So.. I need you to get under the rubble.. H-Hide yourself.. Alright?" [F/N] coughed up more blood, Staining the inside of his mask as Maika's eyes widened.

"D-Don't make a noise.. No matter what happens to me or.. Or what you see.. O-Only until sunrise are you to come out.. Only once you know its safe.." [F/N] wheezed as he watched a shape in the mist start to form.

"Q-Quickly.." At his final word enunciated Maika quickly pushed herself under the rocks, Burrowed her small body into the tight space until all [F/N] could see was the moonlight's reflection on her eyes.

[F/N] smiled weakly, He hoped it would be enough to keep her hidden. Enough to save her life as he watched the figure in the fog take shape into his assailant, The man who would be his executioner.

"Pathetic.. Really.. You were able to take out one thousand of my kind.. Yet you fell to me, Even when putting in your all you just couldn't win.." He drawled out, Making sure to pronounce every syllable. Mocking the man, A sharp frown etched into his face yet [F/N] could tell he was enjoying this. Every last second.

[F/N] felt his vision double, A dark haze appearing over the horizon of his eyes. He could barely hear what Kokushibo was about to say next, All blurring into white noise.

He felt the dark haze thicken, He didn't hesitate to let it swallow him whole.

Kokushibo breathed out air from his nose, Returning his blade back to its hilt as he took slow strides towards the fallen man. He watched as his head lolled from side to side, Most definetly in a state of semi-conciousness from the blood loss.

It really was pathetic. If this man didn't bring up such horrid memories, If his very cells didn't make his blood boil he might of offered this man to become a demon. A way to forever hone his already impressive skills.

It was a waste, But it didn't matter now. This Hashira will die by his blade, It was near-written in the stars.

Kokushibo stopped in front of his incapacitated body. All six of his eyes taking in the sight before him as he crouched down to the mans level.

He was sprawled out, Body black and blue in so many places.

Kokushibo knew he was still somewhat awake, In between death and life. Even in such a spot he should've been able to move, Say something at least.

But the man never said anything. Kokushibo lowered a brow, It was if his body was fighting tooth and nail to stay alive yet his mind was ready to give up. It puzzled him, Any other slayer would be fighting whole heartedly to stay alive yet this one decided to go out without complaint.

"You.. Fujimori. You are such a miserable creature.. Everything about you is simply.. enraging" Kokushibo seethed as his eyes moved onto the rest of him. Kokushibo reached a single hand out to grasp the soft fabric of his haori.

"This haori.. How you were able to get a hold on it confuses me.. Yet angers me all the same. The way you wear it.. The way you no doubt have stained it with blood of those you've killed.. The way you wear it is a disgrace to it's true owner.." Kokushibo lamented. His voice growing only a tone drier.

He trailed a thumb over the pattern. The scales of the dragon were soft under his touch, It made a chill go down his back. How he was able to get his hands on this homemade pattern he didn't know, He had buried it with his sister's body.

Yet here it was, Caressed under his claw.

"The gods may be punishing me.. Making me look at it again.. But I suppose it does not matter now, Not to you.." Kokushibo said. His hand trailed up the man's body, All the way up to the rim of the kitsune mask.

He trailed a talon along his jawline, Deep enough only to make his body twitch at the touch.

"Not to mention the precious artefacts.. One's you wear and wield like your everyday kimono.. Disgraceful." His talon moved up to dig under the brim of the mask. Kokushibo watched on intently as his claw played with the leather strap wrapping behind the mans head.

"I am unsure whether you can hear me.. yet.. If you can.. I want you to watch as I tear out your intestines.. A fitting punishment for your crimes.." Kokushibo whispered.

His claw started to rip the leather slowly. The hide easily coming apart as he tore it down once.

It broke.

The fox mask fell to the floor, A loud clatter hitting the floor.

Kokushibo's heart stopped in his chest.

What.. What is this?

The smoke around them seemed to settle down back to where it came from. The moon was raised high in the sky, Looking down upon the scene from the heavens.

Kokushibo's hand retracted instantly, His body jerking away like he had just touched hot coal.

All sets of eyes went like saucers, All fixed down to the young woman in front of him.

It.. It was [F/N].

His little sister..

No- That was impossible. It couldn't be.. She had perished in his arms over five hundred years ago. He held her cold corpse, He cradled her cadaver begging any god who could hear him to bring her back to him. His tears wet her corpse.

Before this was a man, A man of stature unlike his little sister's. Yet when he took off the mask.. One moment it was the man he had defeated, The next it was her.. But.. It couldn't be her, He was hallucinating again. It couldn't.. It just couldn't!

Yet Kokushibo nudged forward. He reached out a hesitant hand. His fingers lightly cupped her cheek, So delicately as if she'd break from a single touch like a porcelain doll.

He felt the fading warmth in her cheeks, He felt her skin corporeal in his hands.

She was real but..

He heard a soft whisper come out from her throat, Something repeated over and over like a broken tape.

He moved his ear closer to her

His eyes only grew wider once he made out what it was

"M.. Mi-Michi..Nii.."

She mumbled softly, Blood still leaking out of her mouth. Kokushibo's jaw fell agape, His grasp of her cheek growing shaky.

There was no doubt

She was real, She was here.

But how.. How could she be here?

Kokushibo felt his vision start to blur yet never felt the hot tears leaking out of his eyes.. He was crying. She.. She said his name.

His jaw shook as he looked down at her, He saw the red ichor leak out of her gut. He saw the thousands of cuts placed onto her skin, All the bruises and the blood.

Did.. Did he do that?

Memories hit him. Back to that day in the snow, The day almost identical to the present. The day he saw the wound in her back.. The day she died..

Kokushibo yelled.

His body moved for him. In a single second he wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up onto his shoulder, Carefully cradling her body like a small child in his hold as he started sobbing.

He felt her blood stain his kimono, He felt a panic shock him to his very core.

She was going to die.

That thought on its own was enough to send him into a bloodlust. It didn't matter how she was here, How she was reunited with him once more. It all faded into the back of his mind as the one task came clear in his mind.

He couldn't let death take her away from him, Not again. He couldn't lose her, He needed to keep her alive.

The one person whose ever loved him more than Yorichii. She needed to live.

Kokushibo yelled out to Kaigaku in his mind, The telepathic link connected from him to Tsuguko calling out to him. Telling him to come back. They needed to go, He needed to save her life.

The shrine didn't matter, It was if it never existed to him anymore. Going after the evacuees nor searching for useful information throughout the ruins were not a thought going through him.

Carefully making sure she was secure in his hold he pushed her head into the crook of his neck, Made sure her arms were locked around his neck as he watched Kaigaku run up on the horizon.

"M-Master..!" He called out to him as he ran. However his pace skidded to a halt once he came in front of the event unfolding before him.

His master was holding a maimed girl.. And he was crying.

"Wh-What is-"

"Quiet." Kokushibo hissed, His tears still fresh and flowing down his cheeks as he let out a harsh silence.

Kaigaku didn't push him any further. Shut his jaw and listened, The curiosity killed on his tongue yet the incredulous expression still played out on his face.

"We are leaving. Now." Kokushibo said.

Kaigaku nodded quickly. Bowing down low to show respect as he watched his master turn away, Softly running his fingers through the hair of the girl he held. Kaigaku was baffled, He couldn't understand it.

"Nakime!" Kokushibo yelled out.

And in a single strum of a biwa, They were gone.

☆♡☆

The sun rose up in the sky. Clementine skies painted like a tapestry, Only stopped by the misty clouds adorning the atmosphere. Cold air dancing on passer-by's skin as soft sunlight shone down towards the butterfly mansion.

It was lively. Crowds of escapee's and refugee's flooded into the gates of the mansion desperate for medical attention as the staff ran around trying to tend to them all. They all arrived on wagons, Coming out in groups.

As several people walked by they were lightly pushed out the way. Mitsuri ran like hell through the crowds, The lime hue of her eyes scanning every wagon. Every person who resembled [F/N] even if only a little bit.

She asked around. Asking any person she could find to see if they know of her whereabouts, All came up empty. None knowing where she was.

Mitsuri was in the middle of talking to a shrine-maiden when she heard her name called out from the side of the mansion.

"Kanroji-sama!"

She snapped her head over, Only to be met with Tanjiro.

He was standing in one of the nooks in the garden, The one next to the shed with several trays of plant life growing along the windowsill.

Mitsuri rushed over to him. A glimmer of hope rising up inside her, Tanjiro. If anyone was to know where she was, It would be Tanjiro. He was apart of the rescue team after all

"Kanroji-sama.. I'm glad I found you." Tanjiro greeted her, Bowing once. Mitsuri returned it rather hastily with a last-minute smile. "No. I'm glad I found you, Tanjiro.. I've been all over.. But.." Mitsuri huffed, Her injuries still severe as she had to take a breath.

Tanjiro laid a hand on her back, Patting it lightly as if to relieve her pain.

"Thank you, Tanjiro.. I came to ask.. H-Have you seen [F/N]? Was she able to evacuate or.. In fact, Have you seen Fujimori?" Mitsuri said. She grasped Tanjiro's hands into her own, Hope shining in her eyes as she looked at him.

Tanjiro frowned a little.

"N-No.. I haven't seen [F/N], Nor have I seen Fujimori-sama.. I'm sorry." Tanjiro apologised.

The grasp on his hand felt lighter, Mitsuri's smile faltering only slightly as she gulped down the overhanging feeling in her gut.

"I.. I see.. Thank you anyways, I.. I better get back to searching." Mitsuri said. She tried to keep her normal tone, Her normal bubbly tone that she wore everyday without effort yet there was an undeniable fumble as she walked off.

"Wait!" Tanjiro called out.

Mitsuri turned back around to see Tanjiro search his pockets, All before fishing and holding up a folded envelope in his hands.

"I haven't seen [F/N].. But, Fujimori-sama gave me this letter.. He told me to deliver it to you.." Tanjiro announced as he presented it to Mitsuri.

A letter.

A sudden cold sweat washed over Mitsuri. A bad feeling came up in her gut as she walked over.

Mitsuri took the envelope in her hands. The soft paper feeling like sandpaper in her touch. She steadied her breathing, Trying not to break down in front of her Junior.

Taking in a deep breath she carefully picked off the wax seal and unfolded the envelope. Watching as the folds came undone only to drop a pristine piece of white paper in her hands.

She started to read.

To Mitsuri, My dearest friend.

This probably isn't the letter you wanted from me, I know that and I've tried to make it better so it won't hurt as much.

This is about the fiftieth time I've tried to write this letter, Over and over again I've tried to find the right words to say to try and make it perfect, But every time I just end up throwing it out.

So I've decided to just speak my mind, Let it all out. No more redo's. Alright?

First off this isn't your fault, It's not at all. I've been feeling this way for as long as I can remember and I've tried and tried to find a way to feel something else other than monotony or subservience. Sake and such. but nothing has ever worked for me. So I want you to know that however I died, Whether I found someone strong enough to kill me or that I finally found the gut's to do it myself. I want you to know I did it I did on my on volition. I chose this, You have nothing to feel bad over.

Life just isn't worth living for me. I remember getting asked a short while ago what my purpose in life was, What my motivation was. It ate away at me for a while trying to find an answer. But In truth I have none except for protect those I hold dearest to me, Yet once I found out that my single motive became obsolete I now realise that what we call a reason to live is also an excellent reason to die.

I'm living a lie, Everyday I go to work as someone I'm not because of myself. It's pathetic. There isn't any meaning, I'm sorry for saying this but as these are my last words I feel like it's necessary.

I feel like I missed out on a lot of things. A family, My childhood, A normal life. All of these things I feel like have slipped out of my grasp away from me, And I can't get them back and that hurts me more than I can put into words. Everyday it haunts me and I just can't take it anymore.

But, I lied earlier when I said nothing made me feel something other that monotony.

The truth is its you. You were the only thing that made me feel like I had a family, Like I had my childhood, Like I was a normal person for once in my stupid little life. I adore you, Tsuri. I really do.

Do you remember that day on the porch? You probably don't but I do, I know it was just a one off thing you did for me but at the time I felt like a little girl for once, I felt so happy in that single moment and it meant the absolute world to me. It was probably the first time I ever had a genuine smile on my face. I treasure that memory so very dearly.

Please don't feel sad over me, I don't want that. I love you so so much and I know you probably don't feel the same. I'm sorry you had to put up with me, You deserved a better friend than me.

If Shizuko ever finds out the truth, Tell him his big sister is sorry she couldn't be there for him and that I'm so proud of him for becoming a slayer.

I love you, And I wish I said it sooner

-[F/N] Fujimori

"Kanroji-sama..?" Tanjiro asked, Taking a step towards her.

The letter shook in her grasp, Letting the envelope fall to the floor as she gripped the letter in both hands.

"Kanroji-sama.." Tanjiro watched as wet splotches started to stain the letter, All before the woman he looked up to fall to the floor

And scream.

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