bellsplit - Tumblr blog

[bellsplit]

are  minimalist  promos  still  a  thing?     cool.     i'll cut to the chase :   if you're interested in interacting with a  bayverse  optimus  prime  with a backstory that follows  transformers  exodus  then give this a like or reblog for me to check you out!     no  minors!

[bellsplit]

so uh. i guess i’m considering temporarily putting my blogs on hiatus & moving over to a blog for my new comfort muse (the great prime himself). my mental health took a pretty severe blow that’s become entangled with kny so i need a break from it. but i promise i will be back, i like the series & specifically my horrible pink monster too much to stay away permanently. so when that time comes i’ll be back! but until then i’ll be wasting time with transformers bs.

[bellsplit]

sorry guys i’m in transformers hell because kny is beating up my mental health. some irl shit happened & i’ve really suffered because of it. if y’all know anyone who wants to write some transformers stuff & needs a prime to harass send them my way!

[bellsplit]

` ❅ ||   cryopathiic.   »   (  from.  )

hakuji  isn't  a  clubber,   really.     he likes the occasional drink & the all—consuming music,  sure,  but he's too  street  smart  to trust anyone that tries to strike up conversation in a place like this.     he'd actually come down here for two reasons :    because ume had insisted that he'd needed to  loosen  up,   & to meet up with an old friend from his wild teenage years.     he'd heard through his various connections that ackerman would be down here ...

but of course he'd been intercepted by  this  guy  first. 

"  you  don't  belong  down  here,   so don't pretend you understand.  "

heavy boots clank against the metal at the base of the bar stool as their owner shifts uncomfortably where he's seated.     hakuji is ingratiating to an extent,  offering grateful smiles & bows of his head to anyone approaching him with congratulations for a match well won ;    but when it comes to the over—eagerness of his ... companion ... to get to know him,  well,  it makes his skin prickle.     it may shock douma to find that some of akaza's traits remain in this unassuming young man,  from the way his eyes slant sidelong at who he  knows  is  upper  two  to the way his lips curl away from his fangs in a warning snarl when the man gets too close.

but he's cornered here,  & not just by the thumping of the bass in his ears & the bodies moving in tandem on the dance floor behind them :    only an  idiot  would refuse the attentions of a wealthy do—gooder,  at least according to one of the scantily—dressed women who has been standing beside the bar for a little too long ...

leather—clad shoulders heave with a sigh.     hakuji turns to level his sharp,  husky—blue eyes on this outlier who  clearly  doesn't belong down here in some seedy underground club ;    it's not hard to decipher what douma wants from him,  of course,  which makes a lump of anxiety build in the fighter's throat.     douma  wants  akaza,   of  course.     why else would he be slinking around down here?     he sticks out like a sore thumb ... it's too suspicious,  too obvious,  too flamboyant  —  almost as if he's doing it  on  purpose.

but since he has no hope of escaping subtly,  he wants to hear it explained in no uncertain terms.

"  you get  one  drink.     one  chance  to  explain  what  you  want.     i know you're no philanthropist looking for a charity case & this sure as hell isn't  pretty  woman,   so what the hell brings an expensive superstar of the upper echelon down to  my  level?  "

if douma looks carefully,  he might see a flash of gold in the blue of those irises,  the faintest vestiges of those facial tattoos manifesting around his narrowed eyes.

"  talk.  "

[bellsplit]

𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐬 : a little assortment of action prompts for muses who may or may not hate each other. remember to tag your blood and violence. add +reverse to swap the roles.

[ 𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐢𝐫 ] : sender is holding the receiver by the throat. [ 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐥 ] : receiver is on their knees in front of the victorious sender. [ 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 ] : exhausted from a battle, the receiver gives up resistance. [ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 ] : sender attempts to stab the receiver. [ 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 ] : sender grabs the receiver by the hair. [ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 ] : receiver is being held as captive by the sender. [ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩 ] : receiver finds the sender trapped and unable to escape from them. [ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧 ] : sender is lifting captured receiver's chin up. [ 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 ] : sender breaks one of receiver's bones. [ 𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝 ] : sender has made the receiver bleed. [ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 ] : sender forces the receiver to watch their loved one die. [ 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝 ] : sender pins the receiver against a wall out of sheer rage. [ 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐲 ] : sender spares receiver's life. [ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ] : sender warns the receiver to not antagonize them. [ 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬 ] : sender and receiver are sharing a kiss that draws blood. [ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 ] : receiver is trying to win sender's trust in order to escape later. [ 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 ] : facing a greater threat, sender and receiver must work together.

[bellsplit]

&  keen  eyes  he  has,   but not just for the false prophet & his repurposed tub :    no,  he's also focused on the woman in upper two's clutches.     she's so small,  so fragile,  so  beautiful  in both her fear & her mortality that it makes akaza's dead—man's heart squeeze a little with a seemingly misplaced nostalgia.

soft  eyes,   soft  hair,   soft  hands.     coughing.     crying.     a warm embrace.     fireworks  bursting  in  the  distance.

i'll  protect  you  with  my  life.

wordlessly the red horse strides forward,  closing the distance between himself & the scene of carnage that he'd been trying to ignore for too long.     for a moment the bellsplitter wonders when he'd  changed  his  mind  about his passive neutrality when it comes to how douma dispatches his prey,  but that's quickly stifled beneath an unreadable emotion that wells up from deep within him when she  cries  out  again.     even in her pain & distress the woman is still able to try to escape,  fear rolling off of her in waves that strike against the invisible compass needle singing within his frame  —  it only intensifies with her scream when she sees him in all of his wicked glory :    blue lines on ashen skin,  shattered glass eyes,  impossibly sculpted physique.

akaza cannot play at humanity nearly as well as douma can,  can he?     even with his fangs hidden by the frown on his lips,  he still plays the part of an oni far too well.

a bloody hand rises.     the girl shies away in fear,  hiccuping as she tries to take a breath through her tears ;    but his touch is not painful,  perhaps for the first time in the elder oni's life,  his palm settling innocuously against her undamaged cheek.     a tremulous whimper leaves her butchered lips as fat tears roll down her face,  but she does manage to open her doe—like eyes to look up at him,  even if only a little.     first eye contact,  held for drawn—out moments,  the dying beholding the undying.     she's captivated by his stare,  by the glow to his etched irises ;    so distracted by him that it seems she hasn't noticed the movement from his other hand that comes up to rest on the opposing side of her head &——

SNAP !!

i'll  protect  you  with  my  life.

i'll  become  stronger.

i'll  never  let  this  happen  again.

almost instantly destructive death turns his gaze away from the newly minted corpse in upper two's grip without a hint of the turmoil that's ravaging his insides,  luminescent eyes narrowing once more.     "  no more distractions.     this is important.     you know i wouldn't come here if it wasn't.  "     because he hates this place,  everything about it :    what it represents,  what it contains,  who owns it,  the myriad of scents & mortal weaknesses that his compass needle can detect.

A sight for sore eyes, that one.

The gleam in Upper Two's gaze is unmistakably rekindled. And that's not just from the flesh squelching between his jaws or the writhing prey caught in his claws; although it excites him, much like the thrashing mouse does the cat gripping it.

❝ Says who. ❞ A cadence that gently carries his audacity. The waters part as the prophet rises from within — it would take a keen eye to note the plaques hammered into his tub's walls, placeholders for what used to be restraints. A repurposed isolation tank. Dōma found it quite fitting, that the place where he'd once slave away and suffer for the revered absurdity conjured in human minds would become an altar.

Suffer. His lips crease smugly at that comment. Since when has Akaza become such a humanitarian? Or is it just pretty girls that plead to his conscience?

His grip twists in her hair and he hoists her face up over the water; hot, hot water on freshly open wounds. That desperate gasp for air is an unforgettable sound. And the more violently she writhes, the more blood oozes out; rime settling in her trachea.

❝ Are you suffering in there, sweetheart? Didn't you want to get in the bath with me, hm? ❞ His nose presses into her temple with a smile that would put coyotes to shame. It's the licking, the little nips that he takes — relishing the meal. A meal that barely manages to croak a broken cry for help before she's shoved right back into her liquid torment.

She should suffer. For her hubris.

But then Akaza steps into the light and the malicious grin on Upper Two's face fades to momentary sobriety. Immediately, he notes the stains. His free hand comes to swipe the blood dripping from his jaw and dilluting into the water. That will amplify the smell. And they've all been made aware of the third moon's dietary restrictions.

It's funny. Akaza wants to act impervious and holier-than-thou; but if he hadn't arrived, that girl would have walked out of the room in one piece, most likely.

❝ Mmm— now, now. ❞ A long finger held up in the other's direction as he chews. Noisily. The human's meek grip settles on his forearm, tapping on it as if begging to be let up — and is that a kinder fate? What's waiting for her out there is naught but a gnashing maw. And—

And a sudden feel of pressure in the air, like electricity charging up before a storm. There's a notable shift in Akaza's scent. Perhaps the iceblooded should be more concerned that his flaring nostrils identified it so quickly.

❝ I don't like to be rushed. ❞ It's a statement. And a very clear insinuation comes with it — it's not as if his eye did not catch that speckle of crimson weighing on the other's soul. ❝ So... I think I'm going to take my time. ❞ The words relayed slowly, almost sensually against the body in his grip. Yanked up by the hair to have teeth dig in her clavicle. It snaps so effortlessly, like unbuckling a necklace. And somehow she's still alive and noisy, with her head dangling aside like a ragdoll's.

But Dōma's undivided attention is on his guest.

Talk business. That's what they're calling it now?

❝ You're free to join if you'd like. You could use a bath. ❞ I know you're fresh from the hunt, his tone affirms. And the offer is more of a provocation, because he doubts Upper Three can take the smell.

[bellsplit]

` ❅ ||   @cryopathiic.   »   (  from.  )

"  don't  play  with  your  fucking  food.  "

death is rarely patient,  nor is its destructive counterpart.     the red horse is particularly good at remaining unseen & lurking in the shadows,  a predator waiting to pounce,  not even a whisper of breath or creak of floorboards betraying his presence  —  part of it comes with the territory of being  an  oni,   but part of it is just how akaza has always been.

the quiet observer,  an almost mocking juxtaposition to his usual ferocity.     perhaps that's precisely what it looks to be in the moment,  given the weighty judgment that's sitting,  smug,  in war's pink—haloed & shattered gaze.

what a horrendous fucking display.

"  does she have to suffer like that?     it's disgusting.  "

akaza rises from his crouch as pale lips pull away from his fangs in a brief sneer,  the intimate light glinting off of their cutting edges for the second moon to see.     he crafts a growl to mask the way that he swallows back the acrid bile that's been building in his throat from the moment the white horse had spilled the first drop of her blood,  now blooming red & rich in the rippling bathwater.     for a moment he has half a mind to wrench the woman free from douma's grasp,  but of course such a thing would be  foolish :    she knows what he is now.     were she to escape,  douma's ruse would be up ... & their master would  not  be pleased with that.

& since he won't kill her,  let alone  eat  her ... all that he can do is watch.

a huff,  those luminous gilded irises narrowing beneath thick pink lashes as destructive death folds strong arms over his broad chest,  flashing yet another line of blue that's marked his ashen skin.     he's  gotten  stronger  since  last  they'd  met.     it may not manifest in the same way that douma's strength does,  but it's palpable nonetheless :    perhaps it's the hint of dread that all of the temple's residents might suddenly begin to feel,  a twinging of the hairs at the napes of their innocent necks ... the notion of the otherworldly walking in their midst.

even without the ample diet & leisure time at the lotus' disposal,  akaza is just as much of an oni as he  —  especially as the bloodstained fingers of one hand tap against a taut bicep,  proof that he's  eaten  recently.

"  get it over with.     i'm here to talk business,   not indulge in  torture.  "

[bellsplit]

actions speak louder than words non - verbal / action prompts from yours truly. (add a "swap" to swap the sender/receiver in the prompt (or just do it manually).)

back, sender gives receiver a back hug.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger.

blood, sender cleans blood off of receiver.

book, sender helps receiver get a book from a higher part of the shelf.

care, sender takes care of receiver when they're sick.

catch, sender catches receiver by the waist after they bump into each other.

choke, sender saves receiver from choking by giving them the heimlich.

cold, sender places their jacket over receiver's shoulders.

cry, sender wipes tears off receiver's face with their thumbs.

dance, sender sticks a hand out to receiver and invites them to dance.

dip, sender skinny dips in front of receiver and invites them to join.

dog, sender's dog pulls them in receiver's direction.

drive, sender drives receiver somewhere in their car.

drag, sender drags receiver into a room and closes the door behind them.

draw, sender draws receiver like one of their french girls.

face, sender turns receiver's face towards them.

flower, sender gives receiver a flower.

footsie, sender initiates footsie with receiver under the table.

forehead, sender presses their forehead against receiver's.

grab, sender grabs receiver's wrist to stop them from leaving.

jump, sender jumps into receiver's back.

kiss, sender kisses receiver.

link, sender links arms with receiver while walking.

massage, sender offers receiver a massage.

patch, sender patches up receiver's wounds.

piano, sender teaches receiver how to play the piano.

pin, sender pins receiver's hands behind their back.

pluck, sender plucks something out of receiver's hair.

press, sender presses receiver against a wall.

propose, sender proposes to receiver.

quiet, sender gestures for receiver to be quiet.

rest, sender rests their head on receiver's shoulder.

serenade, sender serenades receiver with a song.

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees.

size, sender measures the size of their hand against receiver's.

shoes, sender removes receiver's shoes for them.

sun, sender rubs sunblock onto receiver's back.

tattoo, sender gives receiver a tattoo.

tie, sender helps tie receiver's tie.

tuck, sender tucks receiver's hair behind their ear.

umbrella, sender lets receiver under their umbrella.

warning, sender presses a knife against receiver's neck as a warning.

zip, sender needs receiver's help to zip up the back of their dress.

[bellsplit]

hozier lyrics, hozier (expanded edition)

❛  i should've worshipped them sooner. ❜

❛  we were born sick. ❜

❛  the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you. ❜

❛  i'll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

❛  good god, let me give you my life. ❜

❛  there is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin. ❜

❛  it's toying somewhere between love and abuse. ❜

❛  no more alone or myself i could be. ❜

❛  [i/you] lurched like a stray to the arms that were open. ❜

❛  i lay my heart down with the rest at [your/their] feet. ❜

❛  i wonder if it's better now having survived. ❜

❛  i'm so tired trying to see from behind the red in my eyes. ❜

❛  no better version of me i could pretend to be tonight. ❜

❛  [they/you] found me just in time. ❜

❛  cause with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt cause i never felt young. ❜

❛  it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometimes. ❜

❛  we tried the world and it wasn't for us. ❜

❛  you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

❛  would things be easier if there was a right way? ❜

❛  honey, there is no right way. ❜

❛  i fall in love just a little bit every day with someone new. ❜

❛  there's an art to life's distractions. ❜

❛  love with every stranger, the stranger the better. ❜

❛  all i've ever done is hide. ❜

❛  when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes, i feel ike a person for a moment of my life. ❜

❛  but you don't know what the hell you put me through. ❜

❛  it feels good to be alone with you. ❜

❛  there are questions i can't ask. ❜

❛  now, at last, the worst is over. ❜

❛  i know that you hate this place. ❜

❛  there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree? ❜

❛  there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you. ❜

❛  innocence died screaming. ask me, i should know. ❜

❛  there's something broken about this but i might be hoping about this. ❜

❛  we'll lay here for years or for hours, your hand in my hand. so still and discreet. ❜

❛  i'd be home with you. ❜

❛  any way to distract and sedate. ❜

❛  i'm somewhere outside my life. i keep scratching but somehow i can't get in. ❜

❛  don't you stand there watching me, won't you? ❜

❛  don't you join in, you're supposed to drag me away from it. ❜

❛  i'm so full of love, i could barely eat. ❜

❛  [they/you] are sweet as can be. [they/you] give me toothaches just from kissing me. ❜

❛  no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to [them/you]. ❜

❛  you never asked me once about the wrong i did. ❜

❛  [you/they] would never fret none about what my hands and my body done. ❜

❛  if the lord don't forgive me, i'd still have you and you would have me. ❜

❛  why were you digging? what did you bury? ❜

❛  i will not ask you where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

❛  just put your sweet lips on my lips. we should just kiss like real people do. ❜

❛  i know that look, eyes always seeking. ❜

❛  i will not ask you why you were creeping. in some sad way, i already know. ❜

❛  you know better than to smile at me like that. ❜

❛  i know who i am when i'm alone. ❜

❛  you don't understand. you should never know how easy you are to need. ❜

❛  don't let me in with no intention to keep me. ❜

❛  it can't be unlearned. i've known the warmth of your doorways. ❜

❛  i'll find my way back to you. ❜

❛  my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man's beliefs. ❜

❛  screaming the name of a foreigner's good is the purest expression of grief. ❜

❛  i feel no control of my body. i feel no safety in [your/their] arms. ❜

❛  all that i've been taught and every word i've got is foreign to me. ❜

❛  it looks ugly but it's clean. ❜

❛  your fight and fury is fiery. ❜

❛  it's worth it, it's divine. i have this some of the time. ❜

❛  you called my name til the fever broke. ❜

❛  i heard a scream in the woods somewhere. ❜

❛  i turned and ran to save a life i didn't have. ❜

❛  i need you to run to me. run to me! ❜

❛  when i was a child, i heard voices. some would sing and some would scream. ❜

❛  don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash. ❜

❛  you've done me wrong for a long, long time. ❜

❛  after all you've done, i never changed my mind. ❜

❛  please, try to love me. ❜

❛  my love will never die. ❜

[bellsplit]

his  blood  runs  cold  at  the  sight,   even warped as it is by his frozen corneas.     a giant mass of ice rising from the water,  its peaceful facade an insulting juxtaposition against the violent manner in which it strikes,  its entire palm flattening the bellsplitter against the surface of the water & forcing him down,  down,  down.     this  must  be  new,   likely the final form of douma's blood demon art ... surely there can't be anything greater than this.

he sinks like a stone as the statue's hand retreats,  the density of his muscles allowing for little to no buoyancy.     there's no hurry to escape the cooling clutches of the water around him,  not when everything hurts as much as it does ;    after all,  unlike the other kizuki ... akaza does not relish pain,  does not desire more of it.     for him pain is a manifestation of his own weakness,  a nuisance that dogs his every step,  a rival to be overcome,  a method of keeping him cowed in his place as  upper  three.     there is no celebrating it unless  war  himself  is inflicting it.     receiving it from the hand of conquest is more than a little insulting.

yet even as he drifts closer & closer to the bottom of the pond,  death does not grant him mercy.     time almost seems to slow,  the lights of the lanterns that dot the water's edge dancing & swaying with the motion of the ripples,  a distant beauty that becomes more & more visible as the icy layer atop his shattered eyes flakes away with each blink.     akaza can do nothing but watch the colors as they get further & further away,  then——  his eyes slip closed,  & the world fades to black.

why,   akaza?     what  is  all  of  this  strength  &  titles,   what  is  it  all  for?     what  is  the  end  result?

 i  don't  know  what  the  end  of  all  this  is.     all  i  know  for  certain  is  my  drive  to  be  stronger  than  anyone  else  can't  be  dampened  by  anyone  or  anything,   &  that's ... the  only  truth  that  i've  ever  needed.

the  only  truth  that  i've  ever  needed.

kyojuro.

the next blow from the bodhisattva is  intercepted,   the brilliant blue glow of the compass needle igniting the frigid water.     where his strength should still be waning akaza finds it in his own resolve,  in the man that he knows is alive in the basement of that accursed temple :    that's  his  partner,   & douma's giant sculpture is just another obstacle in the way of their reunion.

𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎  𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 :    𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗  𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎,   𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑 !

energy builds behind his clenched fists until he finally unleashes hell on that massive hand,  an impossibly fast flurry of punches shattering the ice into chunks large enough for him to leverage beneath his feet ... & with a single push,  the bellsplitter explodes out of the water.     but instead of leaping right for the bodhisattva & the prophet enshrined on its other palm,  the red horse uses his momentum to redirect his body towards the temple,  landing  hard  but with a modicum of almost feline grace onto the pinnacle of the roof.     the second his feet begin to support his weight again,  akaza buckles to one knee & begins to retch ;    there's water in his lungs,  water in his guts,  water  everywhere  —  it's as if he'll never be dry again.     but at least he's safe up here ... douma's not foolish enough to unleash that gargantuan thing on the temple,  of that much he's certain.

a cough,  bloody thanks to the icicles that are still embedded deep in his tattooed throat,  then there's an almighty  crack  when one of them is broken beneath the flexing of his muscles.     destructive death is once again upright & is glaring across the void between himself & douma as he wipes the back of a hand on his bloodied maw,  the other clenching into a tight fist at his side as the compass needle once again flickers to life beneath his bare feet.     because it  is  personal :    it has been from the very beginning,  & akaza knows it.

"  yes.     yes,   you're  finally  getting  it.  "

that bloody hand drops to one of those icicles &,  without any pomp & circumstance,  he  rips  it  out.     instantly the wound sprays crimson all over the roof's tiles,  only to be stemmed by the palm that presses over it until it begins to heal ... sluggishly,  yes,  but that's because the red horse is  biding  his  time.     he'll need that strength once the battle truly resumes.     but for now he hopes that the anger in his gaze & his strategic position atop the temple is enough to belay a response from the iceblooded second moon,  & not merely for his own sake :    he can faintly hear the movements of his partner from within the confines of this accursed structure,  his compass needle picking up on the heat of his indomitable fighting spirit,  tasting it & reveling in the reassurance that it gives.

that kyojuro is  alive  in there,  alive & free & looking for a way out.

"  screw what you think,  douma.     you're not  protecting  me  or trying to stop me from making some imagined mistake  —  this is  my  choice,   & neither you nor kokushibo nor  that  man  can stop me from doing this.  "

akaza's voice is stronger now,  some of that thunder from before returning to his usually smooth timbre.     he can feel the strength returning to his limbs even without a scrap of flesh,  the energy of his blood demon art still singing within his veins,  eager to wreak even more destruction upon the iceblooded & his cherished domain ;    that's why he drops back into his stance,  gaze unyielding in the face of how fucking  unflappable  douma looks perched on that frozen throne.

maybe it's time to rattle him  for  real.

he'd been saving this for a particularly desperate moment since it takes  quite  a  bit  of  energy  to perform,  but ... there's no time like the present,  is there?     especially since it looks like that bodhisattva is starting to move again.     so,  throwing all caution to the wind,  the third moon pushes all of his weight down onto the balls of his feet & throws himself forward with all the strength that he can muster as he calls the energy that he's been saving for this very moment into his fists,  aiming not for the second moon himself but for the head of this accursed statue.

𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎  𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑,   𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕  𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 :     𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚎  𝚜𝚒𝚕𝚟𝚎𝚛  𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌  𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚐𝚕𝚘𝚠 !

chaos,  pure & simple,  overtakes the entire area in the form of pale silvery—blue crescents of energy released en masse onto the bodhisattva.     it's  pure  offense,   developed to counteract sweeping breath or blood demon art forms ;    but it is also capable of decimating massive amounts of weaker demon slayers should a group of them ever decide to be foolish enough attack him at once.     this technique has never been deployed on the battlefield before now because of two very simple reasons,  the first being that  akaza  has  never  had  the  need  for  it :    but ... he had also been saving it for a very special occasion.

the second reason :    it was to be the sacred form used in the death of his beloved partner at his hands.

but akaza has decided that he would rather use it now than risk douma getting the upper hand & capturing him to deliver to their master on a silver platter  —  if he & kyojuro are to have even the slightest chance at escape,  he needs to cut this stupid ice statue down to size & rattle the second moon's confidence.

That wail rattles the docks. It is unlike any sound he has heard coming from those pale lips before; and he has squeezed several different noises from them in the past. For a moment, the noise stunts the younger oni — but not enough to have his ice dolls buckle. What they aim to do, however, will be quickly thwarted when Upper Three's fist connects and a myriad of glistening shards shatter on the floor. Clawed fingers hover over their lips as if to conceal the gasp that slips out. Some of them stick to the discarded bodies laid to waste. Food gone cold.

Wh-- What? He punched... a girl. Akaza-dono... has really lost it this time!

When they fought to the death before, Dōma spared him after claiming the spot. Because he was Master's favorite. And frankly, he can't see it. Couldn't see it then, can't see it now. Because of all of them standing at the top of the food chain, he eats the least and spends most of his time chatting up humans. So how can he be standing there, with a collar of ice plunged in his neck, and still have the nerve to talk back to them?

 Maybe that's why  no  one  wants  to  spend  time  with  your  dumb  ass.

❝ ... ❞

An indecipherable expression sits on Dōma's face.

❝ That's a very rude thing to say, especially to your friend. ❞ The tone is almost as icy as those spikes. His socks glide on the glazed floorboards as one leg draws behind the other and he braces for close contact. Akaza might have the compass needle alerting him to every malicious intention; but Dōma has an arsenal of his own. An eidetic memory, for one thing. He can recall every single attack he has experienced from the other; apart from noting those subtle signs that herald wrathful retribution. But for all his prowess and the sheer power of his blood... he still can't figure out why his friend would be fighting back so fiercely.

And it eats at the back of his mind. Moreso than those hurtful words.

Especially when his ice dolls record movement in the basement and he hears the distant sound of chains shattering. And the pillar is moving now, within the temple's bowels. It's only a matter of time until he gets to the Room of Remembrance and finds his trusted blade displayed among the skulls; and that's one precious room. If a single skull breaks, that's one follower who entrusted their eternity in these clawed hands. Wouldn't that be a tragedy in itself?

....

A polychromatic aura reaches through the collective; breezing coolly past them all to get to the all seeing eye. Her omnipresence could not possibly deny him. He is the second moon. That statement lurks in a knowing smile as blood bridges their minds — she would feel the essence of a cool palm coming to rest upon her shoulder; Nakime-chan? Would you kindly lend a hand?

But before he even has the time to weave his own thoughts, the bite of a punch electrifies his senses. Hair stands on edge. His arms fly up as their intertwined forms bring the washi tapestries down and crash into the water — and for a moment, Dōma's claws dig in those marked shoulders with the same urgency a cat tries to claw its way out of a bath. Eyes flash wide. He can see the blurred image of the temple's wall busted open. And he watches, without expression, as bubbles rise between the two of them and all sound is muted — through the corner of his eye he catches glimpse of the lotus stems rising up from the murky bottom so the flowers may bloom at the surface. Akaza's blood leaves a beautiful trail, mixed with his own. And the prophet watches, almost mesmerized, as his golden fans float splayed up to the surface and the waters begin to grow frigid.

Clarity comes to him through this tranquility. His palm comes to burrow into pink tufts, yanking the other's head back abruptly.

꧁༺B̝̼͓l̡̺͓o̡̠͙o̘̺͇d͓̻͓ D͇͜e͎̙̙m̫̼o͎͔n̢͇͍ A̡̼̘r̺̦̝t̢̢:̼̫͜ R̿̀̕i͆͝͝m̔͌͝ë́͘͝ -̐̚͘ W͛͝a͛̀͐t͋̓͒ë́̕͠r͋́̾ Ĺ͠ì̽͝l͑͠͝l͋̕̕y̕̕̕ B͊͐̽ö́̈́̾d͛̽͝h̓̒͋i̐̚̕s̓́̚a͒̕͝t̾͒́t͛͑͘v͊̔a͑͝͝꧂

It has become clear to him. Akaza is not fighting to claim this human as his own meal; but to preserve him. Why else would he risk everything just to remove the iceblooded from the battlefield? He knows the rime has settled heavy back there. A demon may fight it, but a human's lungs stand no chance against that. But to protect a human is blasphemy in their face of their God, isn't it? For how much longer will Akaza's transgressions be excused?

Only one way to find out.

The Lord Founder has absolute control over his domain. Doesn't Destructive Death know that? Then again, Akaza has never been one to utilize the full potential of a Kizuki's strength. It's almost as if the concept of godhood is utterly lost on him! And while the Frozen Lotus is still perplexed; the battle will come to an end, soon. Because even if he manages to find his own blade through Nakime messing with the temple's rooms, the moment this human steps foot out here it will alert all demons within to his presence.

The waters rise to reveal Upper Two's monstrous creation. Its enormous palm harbors them within it. Divine intervention. Dōma coughs up some water, sits up on his knees and peers down to the other. It's almost as if the pond itself grew deeper just to house the sheer size of that thing. It's only visible from the waist up, too!

❝ Well, I must say, I'm really sorry about all this. I had not realized that human is so special to you. ❞ He muses whilst grabbing handfuls of platinum tresses to strain them dry. His bangs stick flat to his face and he shakes the water out from those next. They're not quite as bouncy as before, though. And something about the carefree expression seems to darken, as the statue draws in a rattling breath. ❝ But, Akaza? You know what else I realized? You're sorta... protecting that human from me. And it's just— ❞ He shrugs, faking an 'oh well', pursing his lips; and the bodhisattva raises its palm to bring it flat down on the other and crash everything on its wake as well. It's surprisingly quick, for something that big. And Akaza has never seen that before, has he? No, he didn't even need to pull that out last time. Let alone, it hadn't been as developed.

❝ — I really wouldn't want to anger him by protecting a traitor, you know? Ugh, I hope you can understand that. It's nothing personal, after all. ❞ He muses casually, taking a comfortable seat amidst that palm and continuing to dry himself off - as if the statue's other hand is not aiming to deliver repeated blows in the other's direction, like trying to kill an elusive little insect.

[ @bellsplit ]

[bellsplit]

fill out the blorbo bingo, pls.

tagged by: @calamxty, thanks boo ♥ tagging: YOU.

[bellsplit]

it's  easy  to  get  lost  in  the  warmth  of  the  water,   the rhythm of the music as it pours in from outside,  the stability of a routine :    lather,  rinse,  repeat if necessary.     he scrubs & scrubs &  scrubs  his skin,  hoping in vain that the ink will run down the drain as it has in the past,  painting the shower floor pink & blue & revealing the man beneath it all :    hakuji,   who should have rightfully gotten a chance to live his own life.     but of course it doesn't work,  leaving him with raw skin & an even more tender ego.

because hakuji ... can never just be  hakuji.     akaza has dogged his footsteps for years now,  a quiet rage burning away behind every punch,  kick,  & cruel word ;    hell,  akaza had indirectly been the cause of much of the foolishness that hakuji had gotten involved in during his teenage years,  right up until his memories had truly started to return upon turning eighteen.     he's completely & utterly  lost,  moreso now than he had been in  that  life.     what the future holds for them is a mystery,  he supposes,  as it's impossible for hakuji to be  rid  of  him.

the  night  will  hold  us  close  &  the  stars  will  guide  us  home.

akaza sighs as he runs a hand through his hair,  smoothing pink strands away from his face so he can just ... stare up at his reflection in the  square rainfall showerhead.     & he hates what he sees in the bicolored eyes that stare back at him.

as an oni,  his senses are sharp  —  far sharper than hakuji's human senses are.     & yet he still has been so lost in his own brooding that he hasn't noticed the soft  'click'  of the door as it slides shut,  the faint sound of fabric falling to the floor,  the addictive beat of his music now muffled by an enclosed space ... all these things only rushing to him when he's greeted with the warmth of another body pressing against his own.

he doesn't jump,  doesn't startle,  doesn't  fear :    this is too familiar for that.     this is something that he's  yearned  for,   something that his heart has wept for night & night over,  even  while  poor  hakuji  had  tried  so  hard  to  make  things  work  with  koyuki.     but what  does  manage to come out of his mouth is a small,  slightly confused little,     "  what——  "

'  akaza—     akaza—     akaza—  '

& that's all it takes.

the dam breaks,  & akaza  crumbles.     in an instant,  almost faster than the human mind can comprehend,  the oni is turning around & tossing his arms around the former pillar,  drawing himself chest—to—chest with this wildfire trapped in human skin so he can finally  kiss  him.

i've  been  waiting  for  this  moment,   we're  finally  alone.

— WHY.

Why did he step away like that, a flinch in his body and a step backwards, out of fear? A burning sensation within his chest, that spread and gripped him tightly, almost feeling as if the very life of him was being squeezed right out of him with each passing moment. Dreams he has had, that felt like memories of a life that could not possibly be his own, it was too fictional, it was too – out there, it was too wild and unbelievable in every single sense of the word, that he had.

— he had lived a life once before, he had been in this world before and he had done enough, to be granted a second chance of doing it all over again.

“I don’t understand?” He did it because he was human? As he slanted his head to the side. “I don’t understand.” Another attempt, more of a whisper this time more than anything else as he repeated the soft words.

Before he could question any further, the other was gone, whisking away across the floor and cleaning up the endless spilled water that was littering the floorboards, leaving him there to process his thoughts for the time being, a touch to the side of his head. Golden hues splashed with crimson while staring right at him, just looking at him. Watching him carefully, as his heart would flutter in his chest, long enough for his other hand to come up and rest there for the moment and press down lightly.

— something was calling out from inside it.

“It’s …” Already the other was chirping the words and speaking far too quickly for him to process the thoughts within his head and the feelings within his heart. “Thank …” Once more another stammer. Trying to think as hard as he can, what was the truth, what was real and what was not, trying so hard to gather it all together. He said he was human and he was not. What did he mean? Was he joking with him? Playing games with him, trying to get under his skin and put him on the back foot.

— if so it was working.

Leaving him here on his own as he breathed out for the moment, as he walked forward, a few steps at a time as he was following the wet footprints of the other. He knew him. He knew who he was, it was not memories, it was not thoughts, his heart was telling him and it was aching, breaking in his chest and urging him to go and follow. As he knew he had no right, he knew he had no right to be anywhere near him. He didn’t know this man. He had never seen him before, he had never spoken to him before, no interactions, no knowledge, nothing, and yet his heart was something he lived and obeyed, something that had guided him through life and always been there.

— it had never failed him before.

Why would it now lead him astray? As he slowly nodded his head and sheepishly pushed that bathroom door open a little bit and then stepped inside after him, knowing fully well, how dangerous it was, how stupid it was. But his heart was overtaking him in the moment, as he walked in, silently, the towel dropped from his waist, from his hair as well, a small slide of the door as he stepped in and closed it to be behind him and.

— he risked it all.

Gently to wrap his arms around him, and thud his head into the back of his own for a moment and just breath him in. “Akaza –” Thankful, for the running water to hide his tears. “Akaza –” As his arms tightened around him a little bit more, holding him tightly now and giving him no room to move or pull away, if Akaza was insane, then he was insane for doing something so reckless.

“Akaza –”

[bellsplit]

they'd  been  destined  to  meet  that  night.     surely that must be it!     how else can such a stroke of luck have occurred?     to have met not just someone who resonates with his warrior's soul,  but someone who is  so  very  human  &  fragile  yet  so  strong  himself ... such things don't happen merely by  chance!     part of the third moon wonders what life would have been like if he hadn't managed to meet this impossible being,  if he hadn't been as  persistent  in coming to see him every night while he had healed ...

if kyojuro had never,  in turn,  tried to get to know  him.

he often thinks about what he'd seen at the rengoku estate during his partner's convalescence :    of the younger rengoku,  senjuro  according to kyojuro & only discovered later in their friendship,  constantly watching over his unconscious brother.     of their former pillar father & his violent temper,  a means to express his grief ... & how akaza had initially found it to be  weak.     of the many visitors coming & going that he could hear during the daylight hours from where he'd managed to find some shady hole for himself to hide from the sunlight in,  demon slayers & concerned villagers alike ...

kyojuro,  he'd discovered,  is a very beloved person.     his family is very influential,  very important to their community,  invaluable to the demon slayer corps as one of the longest uninterrupted lines of breath users in the country.     to have that object of widespread affection & care resting so comfortably on his chest,  breathing him in,  feeling the warmth of his skin & hearing the sweetness of his words ... to think that it would be  an  oni  receiving such things ...

it's impossibly beautiful,  even if the bellsplitter's pink brows furrow slightly at the mention of  mistakes.     a shift to break the kiss & lean their heads against one another reminds him that his skin is still slightly discolored & a bit  tender  from where the sunlight had struck him all those months ago,  a lingering reminder of his own follies.     kyojuro certainly can't have done anything as foolish as that.

"  hush,  kyojuro.  "     a chuckle,  quiet & gentle,  pressed right against his lover's ear.     "  i don't care what your lofty morals tell you about your shortcomings :    i'm  tellin' you that you're perfect,  perfect  for  me.     got it?  "

he accentuates his statement with a gentle squeeze as both arms wind oh—so—tightly around his partner,  his lips & fangs just barely grazing the pillar's ear in a silent reminder that he's here,  he's real,  he's  still  an  oni  &  therefor  still  dangerous ... even if such horrors will never again be unleashed upon his lover's body.

not,  at least,  without his requesting.

but oh,  how  hungry  he is.     akaza can't help himself,  dipping his head just enough to ghost the points of his fangs over kyojuro's pulse as his hands return to their wandering,  blazing a trail down,  down,  down ... until one is resting innocuously atop the swell of his ass,  the other bracing itself innocently between his shoulder blades as he mouths at a lingering bruise from last night's ... activities.

"  kyojuro ...  "

Everything happens for a reason.

That was what he believed with all of his heart. Everything comes to pass for one reason or another. Maybe, at times things hurt, maybe at other times they don’t, but that was life in a nutshell in truth. You take the good and you take the bad and you do what you can to try and be happy, it is not always going to work for you, you are going to struggle - so much, but as long as you have people around you, good people, kind people, those who truly care for you, everything – everything will work out in the end.

— that’s why no matter how many times Akaza stumbles and falls.

He will be right there to pick him back up and help him.

— that night is burned into his mind.

He knew the risks of going on his own, of fighting the slasher and stopping it at every single point to stop killing innocents, to then find the lower moon demon and be trapped within a dream. For someone to get so close to his core and see, the golden aura around it, the cracks on the glass, the swimming ocean blue within it for his sorrow. For all that he has done in his life, it has been, a very long time since he has been happy, a very long time since he has felt true joy, only around his youthful sibling did he feel, like his true self, and even then, they were so far apart from one another that it faded the further he was away.

— he was happy now, if that demon was still alive, it would be blinded by the bright light.

He slowly breathed out, his body tingled and he felt, so impossible relaxed as well, with what he felt like, that someone has uplifted all the stress and worry from him and burned it away. That his lover had treated him as if he was the most precious thing in the world and not once harmed him, forced himself on him, did anything that would leave wounds and injury, it had been soft, gentle, it was something that that you could only give to a single soul once in your life, and he believed truly it was something you only gave to the person you loved the most and wished to spend the rest of your life with.

— your first time.

The small shift from the other, and a kiss that was quickly welcomed. Light for the moment, exploring almost, as the sensation was still new and exciting, as he doubted that would ever burn away, that it was something that would remain forever. It was slow and paced at such a speed, more about the feeling, the lingering touch of there lips against one another, as he was hungry as well, but for the purity of him, the gentle side, the person that was there under all of this, the being he has come to respect and come to love.

— someone pure of heart, like himself.

The feeling of the other, running his hands down, to feel the scars that littered every single corner of his body, and not once was he shamed or displeased with them. They were like – tattoos to him, his own. Stories of his life, actions taken, moments that shaped, each one helping him to become stronger, become better, to become someone that could stand against oni and not be afraid. Each one lives saved, he would carry the weight of the world on his back, and he has for so long on his own.

— for the first time someone was willing to uplight some of it from him.

“You flatter me with your kindness, but I have made mistakes –” As he whispered back, another small kiss, just comfortably resting against him and holding him as he merely opened, parting his lips slowly to allow him to come back home. “This isn’t one of them, I don’t regret anything.”

[bellsplit]

he's  not  surprised  when  kyojuro  shies  away,   in fact it makes a wan smile curl his ashen lips before he retracts his traitorous hand.     he's  remembering.     or at least he is subconsciously ... it's hard to say who remembers what from that life.     he knows that ume & gyutaro remember everything,  & of course he does himself ... but what about any  demon  slayers?    surely they've all been granted a completely new life for their service to the gods ...

they'd deserve that much,  at least,  for all that they've done,  the souls that they'd saved,  the cycle of violence that they'd managed to break.

a shrug pulls through akaza's shoulders to indicate that he's not offended.     "  it's okay.     you did it because you're human,  "     he says as if it's the most natural thing in the world,  as if everyone knows that it's true.     "  because you're human & i'm ... not.  "

a laugh to mask the bitterness that's rising,  bilious & acrid,  in his tattooed throat.     the oni flits away across the studio to snag one of the kitchen towels & slap it down on the floor where a decent amount of rain water had accumulated ;    it's easier to turn his back to the former pillar than to watch the confusion that must be pinching those thick brows & darkening those bright eyes,  so he does it under the guise of tidying up.     he's  very  meticulous,   after all.

"  it's nice to see you again too,  kyojuro.     but go ahead & change,  i gotta shower anyway,  "     he chirps with a wave offered over his shoulder,  taking care not to make any sort of eye contact with the taller man.     "  & think about what you want to eat!    my fridge is,  uh,  unfortunately kinda empty,  so i'll order some takeout when i'm clean!  "     he's chatting away almost too quickly,  rambling on to cover up what he'd said.     that he's  not  human.     kyojuro will most likely think he's insane rather than buy into the horrible truth that he's offered. 

after all,  who  would  believe it?

akaza leans heavily on the counter for a moment to study himself in the mirror before unceremoniously stripping down to bare skin,  glaring down at the myriad blue tattoos lining his pale skin as he turns on the shower.     while he waits for it to heat up he hunts for kyojuro's wet clothes,  which he tosses into the nearby washer alongside his own wet shirt,  pants,  socks,  & a few other pieces of clothing,  dirty from hours of work at the garage.     even as he steps into the shower to rinse away the stickiness of sweat & rain from the night's events,  he hasn't shut the door to the bathroom because he wants to listen to his music  —  his spotify has continued to call him out with a soft song called  after  dark  by mr.kitty.

the  moment  you  hold  me  —  i  missed  you,   i'm  sorry.

MY NAME IS  AKAZA.

Akaza …

It was a slow process. There was a part of him, deep down inside that was shifting a little bit within himself. The longer he was around this man, the longer he was near him, more confusion than anything else was hitting him slightly. Which was an odd thing indeed. As he was always quite sure of himself, always quite confident as well within himself, but this entire night he felt like he had done nothing other than stumble around, dazed and confused. As he has been light headed, trying to figure out everything himself.

He needed to remain focused, he needed to clear his mind and focus and try to piece this together himself and let it all fall into place.

Akaza …

The small walk back, as he took the time to just look around, to see what was here and how, lived in it was. He still sensed no threat. There was no danger to be found nor had. That the person here, had not brought him to this place, to do a horrid thing to him and hurt him in anyway. No. This was a home. He could tell that right away. It was well lived within. There was warmth here, memories as well, good and bad, as he started his approach back to the other, the shower was well needed and appreciated. He was clean, he was warm and he felt full of life still.

Akaza …

Even more so than when they were both outside doing such impossible actions with one another.

“This is generous and kind hearted of you, you don’t need to worry about it.” He merely stood, a few inches away from him, as if this was as natural as can be. He held no shame at all, none. It was natural, there was no other way to say it and besides, he kept his modesty and ensured he was not being disrespectful in any way at all to him. Using the shower was one thing, he was thankful for that, he truly was. So warm, and snuggly now, he felt like he could just curl up with a blanket and go to sleep, after everything that has happened. The concern his brother and father would have, he had dealt with it, sending them both a message in the bathroom that he will be back in the morning.

That he was staying in the city with a friend and for them not to be worried to death over him.

AKAZA …

His eyes would widen for the moment. As the other would move, a hand moving upwards to him, as he heard the name - it repeated, over and over in his mind, again and again. Time and time again, he heard that name, repeating like the beat of a drum, as his chest would ache, a pain spreading through him as if someone had struck him so hard that their fist had passed through them like he was made of water. As he flinched at the fingers coming close to him and shied back a little.

“I am sorry –” Why did he do that –

A small placement of his hand on his chest, and a little look down as he could see, nothing. There was no damage, no mark, Akaza had not hit him, but ache and pain did linger there for the moment, it was intense, as if something so awful had happened to him. As he stared back up at him. “I didn’t mean to do that.” He tried to smile, he truly did, but he had never felt something like that before in his entire life, that if he had not been, so full of life, such a thing would have brought him crashing down to the ground with ease.

“It is nice to meet you – again – Akaza.”

[bellsplit]

Reblog if it's okay to fill up your inbox!

-please feel free to specify in the tags any limits you may have! examples being: mutuals only; only for memes, general ic asks, or both; if ooc asks are welcomed; etc.

[bellsplit]

JEALOUS, FIERCLY PROTECTIVE & TERRITORIAL PROMPTS

feel free to edit pronouns as needed! content warning for some strong language,  threats and implied violence.

to each other:

❝  you’re mine. only mine.  ❞

❝  i’m all yours.  ❞

❝  mine.  ❞

❝  yours.  ❞

❝  we belong to each other.   ❞

❝  you belong to me.  ❞

❝  i belong to you.  only ever you.  ❞

❝  i just didn’t like the way they were looking at you.  like you weren’t mine.  ❞

❝  you know i’m yours,  right?  i only have eyes for you.  ❞

❝  no one else is ever gonna have a chance with me.  you’re it.  you’re all i want.  ❞

❝  i chose you.  and i need you to trust that my decision is final.  trust me.  ❞

❝  wait are you jealous?  ❞

❝  aw,  baby.  it’s cute when you’re jealous.  ❞

❝  i don’t like the way they keep staring at you.   ❞

❝  i don’t like how they keep staring at me.   ❞

❝  are they making you uncomfortable?  i can do something about it.  ❞

❝  no one should even get to look at you unless you want them to.  ❞

❝  stop—  it’s okay.  they’re not worth your anger.  just kiss me.  ❞

❝  stop saying i’m jealous.  i’m not—  i just.  i don’t like having to share. ❞

❝  i’m not jealous,  who said i’m jealous?  ❞

❝  well if i’m all yours then kiss me like it.  ❞

❝  show everyone who i belong to.  ❞

❝  i’m gonna remind them you’re mine.  ❞

❝  i want everyone here to see that you’re mine.  ❞

❝  i want everyone here to see that i’m yours.  ❞

❝  hey—  look at me.  why are you all upset?  ❞

❝  you can’t keep getting your feathers all ruffled when anyone else gives me attention.  ❞

❝  they don’t deserve you—  i don’t deserve you.  but at least i’m aware of it.  ❞

❝  i promise there’s no one else.  you have my heart completely.  ❞

❝  hey,  is this asshole bothering you?  ❞

❝  tell me you’re mine.  ❞

to a third party:

❝  get the fuck away from them!  ❞

❝  look at them like that again and you’ll won’t be seeing anything.  ❞

❝  don’t you dare touch them.  ❞

❝  yeah it’s time to walk the fuck away.  ❞

❝  you’re gonna lose a finger if you don’t get outta my sight right now.  ❞

❝  you heard them,  get lost.  ❞

❝  lucky for you,  i don’t wanna ruin their night.  but i see you sniffing around here again you might not be so fortunate.  ❞

❝  you wanna lose a limb?  beat it,  fucker.  ❞

❝  see,  i woulda left it alone.  but you made them fucking cry.  so now you’re gonna lose your eyes.  ❞

❝  hey,  they said ‘no.’  ❞

❝  hey asshole,  shut the fuck up or i’ll make you shut up.  ❞

❝  what did you just say to them,  you little shit?  ❞

❝  oh yeah.  now you’re all quiet.  not so bold when you’re not the toughest guy in the room,  huh?  ❞

❝  get lost.  ❞

❝  go.  ❞

❝  leave.  before my patience runs out.  ❞

❝  get the fuck outta their face.  ❞

❝  hey,  that’s enough.  ❞

actions:

[ CLAIM ]  for one muse to possessively place their hands on their shoulders or hips. 

[ HOLD ]  for one muse to slide their arm around the other in a possessive way. 

[ SHELTER ]  for one muse to lean into the other’s side or hug them to seek comfort from a crowd or individual while in public. 

[ STAKE ]  for one muse to protectively and/or possessively stand behind the other to intimidate a third party. 

[ RESCUE ]  for one muse to intervene upon seeing a third party making the other one uncomfortable. 

[ CHASE ]  for one muse to interrupt and make a third party leave the other alone out of jealousy/possessiveness. 

[ TENSION ]  for one muse to get in a fight on behalf of the other. 

[ STOP ]  for one muse to break up a fight which started because of them. 

[ MEND ]  for one muse to treat the other’s wounds they got from protecting them. 

[ SCOLD ]  for one muse to treat the other’s wounds they got from fighting over them. 

[ CARESS ]  for one muse to possessively kiss the other in public.

[ TAKE ]  for one muse to passionately kiss the other,  fueled by jealousy. 

[ TAUNT ]  for one muse to flirt with a third party to try and get the other to act possessively. 

[ REMIND ]  for our muses to have passionate sex meant to remind one party who they belong to. 

[ EMBRACE ]  for one muse to dominate the other due to possessiveness/jealousy. 

[ LINKED ]  for one muse to hold the other’s hand in public to stake claim. 

[ INTERTWINE ]  for one muse to hold the other’s hand in public in a comforting manner. 

[bellsplit]

he  can't  seem  to  stop  smiling.     it's soft,  gentle,  saccharine in a way that he's never displayed before.     are oni even able to offer such things?     to feel the warmth that's stirred his dead man's heart into beating again?     or is it simply because of the amazing person that's gracing him with these kind words,  touching him so reverently,  being so  open  with him in spite of everything that's transpired between them?

kyojuro might believe the debt to be settled,  but ... akaza doesn't think it will ever come to be.

tumultuous.     that's a good word to describe their meeting,  the standard snatch—&—slash of demons & humans colliding in battle.    he can still remember it so vividly that his pulse starts to race :    the heat of kyojuro's flames,  the sting of his sword,  the weight of his gaze ... the thrill of a decent battle for the first time in  years.     akaza is not deployed without just cause,  & that night had been no exception,  tasked with the elimination of the boy with the hanafuda earrings ... only to be intercepted by kyojuro's burning resistence.

kyojuro had stopped him,  redirected him with such  ease.     but what he'd really done in that moment is  piqued  akaza's  interest,   which had proven to be a hazard to the pillar's health ... but in the end had led to  this.

"  kyojuro.  "

the oni shifts a little,  angling his head to more openly kiss his partner.     he's careful with his fangs,  moving his mouth more slowly than anything & leading to a more  sensual  kiss than anything else,  lacking the  hunger  that he'd been expecting to bleed through ... because he is  always  hungry.     not merely for kyojuro's blood,  for his flesh,  for his  soul :    but for his kindness,  his warmth,  his passion,  for  everything  that  he  is.

demons are naturally covetous,  greedy things.

"  kyojuro ...  "

the hand on his partner's back slides down,  down,  fingers carefully mapping out the myriad of scars on the slayer's skin.     it's a  marvel  to him,  the notion of scars,  of carrying marks from battle to prove one's strength outwardly to the world ;    part of him almost wishes that  he  could have some of his own.     yet oni are  infallible,   their bodies untouchable by age or damage ... even by near fatal wounds like what kyojuro had dealt him by nearly  cutting  off  his  head.     so all that he has to display his strength,  his  victories,   is the web of tattoos darkening his skin.

& perhaps the prize of a pillar in his bed,  but ... maybe that's because of something else entirely,  just like kyojuro had said.

"  everything you've just described ... that's  you,   kyojuro,  not me ...  "     the oni whispers in between kisses & mindless presses of tongue between lips that are far too warm.     "  you're ... just about perfect,  aren't you ...?  "

— he always follows the first thing he had been taught by the strongest person he had ever known.

‘Follow your heart Kyojuro, it will never fail you.’

It was the first teaching entrusted to him, taken from the strongest being who had ever walked this land. Who found strength to bring two beings into the world, to fight to remain long enough to ensure they were raised, protected, taught and above all – loved. Leaving enough memories of her, to ensure that her spirit would continue on through them, and there was not a single day in his life that passed by that he was not thankful, that he felt truly blessed to have the right to be called her son and child. To have seen what true strength was and to be able to replicate it, he hoped he had.

He truly hoped he had made her proud.

That his choices always come from the one place that has never failed him.

“That is life Akaza, we get hurt, we recover, we learn and we push ahead.”

Even now, he was fighting so hard for him, just in a different way, this beautiful, beautiful being that had cared so greatly for him and treated him as if he was the most precious thing within the entire land. He owed him so much. That if there was a debt between them, it had been long paid and removed from them both, as not once - did he ever blame him, hold resentment or even allowed hatred to so much as crawl anywhere near his heart. The actions of the past, had long been forgotten, the actions of last night lingered and still tickled his skin, with light reminders of their passion for one another and their final collison to take the next step.

Together.

The small movement, of his face into that palm, where others would fear what that single hand could do, with fingers curl inwards and it lashes out at those around, he finds refuge within it for the time being, using his other hand to come up and rest lightly against it and ensure he did not retreat back, a notice of how much warmer it has become over these travels they have been on with one another.

“--- that is my promise, the same as I made so long ago Akaza, you are worth fighting for.”

It was not something, they had taken lightly nor was it something taken for granted. He hoped the other understood this, he hoped they understood what this meant. He had chosen him. His heart would beat for him, his actions would be for him, his words going forth would be for him as well and his life, was for him as well. He knew it would be a short one, but such was the life of those caught within this eternal war, no one ever got to walk away from it, and have anything that resembled normality. 

It would burn brightly, it would be a raging bonfire that the entire land could see, the heat from the flames would keep all others away, for a time, but like all fires, it would fade and then die out, no sooner than it had started.

Light and small movements, as he would bump his head against their own for the moment, to just settle it there for the flickering of a mere second as his eye closed on instinct alone, in all of these years, he had never been able to truly rest, never once since he started his journey, was he able to sleep without being scared of what lingered within the darkness, but with him, he felt like, they could both burn it away as he shifted and moved, resting over him as lightly as he was able to and keeping his lips close

“You are .. remarkable .. you burn so brightly and still cannot see it yourself Akaza .. your soul is so warm .. your heart is so large .. it is not your strength that I love .. it is you Akaza .. I love you.”