Polar: Baby, I got you a gift.
Eclipse: A gift?
Polar: Yes, baby. A gift. Open it.
Eclipse, excitedly bouncing: A new collar! My old one got broken, you got me a new one!? Help me put it on? My arm still hurts.
Polar, putting it onto him: You looked really sad and uncomfortable without a collar after it got broken. So I got you a new one.
Eclipse, hands happy stimming: Thank you, thank you thank you! *squeaks with echolalia*
Polar, fondly watching him be happy and excited: I love you so much.
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blood and dirt (WIP)
this is a snippet from a WIP that i probably won't ever finish because i didn't really know what to do with it. the premise is that tanjirou sorta kinda went missing on a mission and giyuu and shinobu get sent to go find him. it was just kinda gonna be a vaguely whumpy oneshot but i never really had enough inspiration to finish it
(…)
“w-wait, wait, wait!” the demon shrieks, “you can't kill me!”
“oh?” shinobu asks, leaning forward, “and why is that?”
“i- i- the- the boy! you came here looking f-for him, right? but you still haven't found him!”
shinobu pauses, and this time it's less deliberate. the demon latches onto her hesitation.
“if you're not quick in finding him, he might perish underneath your noses! or,” the demon cracks a smile, “maybe he’s already bled out by now.”
with a flick of her wrist, shinobu presses a dagger that had been hidden in her sleeve against the monster’s throat. it makes a sound akin to a teapot whistle and tries to shrink away.
“for your sake, you’d better hope that’s not the case.” there’s a sickly sweet smile on her face, hiding the rage underneath. if she didn’t find tanjirou or, gods forbid, if she didn’t find him alive…
well, death would be the last thing this demon would be fearing.
“well?” shinobu prompted. “why don’t you tell me where he is?”
the demon spluttered.
“i-i’m not going to just-! y-you have to give me something first!”
“i’m giving you your life! isn’t that enough?”
“a-as if the word of a d-demon slayer would mean anything to me. no, you- you’ve got to show me that you won’t kill me!”
shinobu makes a show of humming thoughtfully, briefly pressing her knife down a little bit harder, just enough for the sharp edge to break the demon’s skin. at the first bead of red-black blood, shinobu pulls the blade away and goes as far as to step entirely off of the demon. it scrambles backwards and pushes itself to its feet.
the demon pauses, a clawed hand coming up to touch at the already healed cut on its throat. then it stands to its full height and smirks down at shinobu. “see?” it says. “now, that’s trust.”
and then the demon bolts into the woods.
shinobu sighs, tucking the knife in her hand back into the pocket in her sleeve. she readies herself to chase after the demon, but a hand on her shoulder stops her. she looks back at tomioka, giving him a soft smile.
“now isn’t the time to be hesitating, tomioka,” shinobu says in a soft tone. tomioka hums quietly in response.
“it’s going to swerve in tanjirou’s direction when it realizes we aren’t chasing it,” tomioka explains. shinobu blinks. oh. that’s clever. sure enough, she can sense the moment the demon switches directions. then tomioka removes his hand. “you follow its trajectory. i’ll take care of it.”
“ah, there’s no need for that, tomioka!” shinobu says, “it’ll get knocked out by the poison soon enough!”
tomioka glances down at the hand she’d held the knife in and then turns away.
“to tanjirou then.”
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grian and scar fall into place in the space between the stars. where the dust and the matter float, and gravity pulls them in odd directions with the enticing call of a million possibilities.
they’re pulled to each other though, as if the universe has one plan for them, has only ever had one plan for them. they are made up of stardust, gases hotter than either can reasonably fathom, particles ready to collide.
they are both icarus, both the sun. neither notice the wax melting down their back, spiralling them both closer and closer. they ache for it, they yearn for it, for that feeling of closeness, of togetherness.
it will kill them—they realise—but it wouldn’t be right if they weren’t the death of each other.
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