#🎴 ║ 𝙰𝚗𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍

[crescent-blades]

So. I read your Kimetsu Gakuen Michikatsu attempting to impress his crush via jokes. I couldn't get it out of my head so-

(hope you like it even with the low quality)

[OOC | AAAAAAAA OMG this is incredible!! You've truly made my day brighter with this masterpiece, so thank you very much! 💕And I can't get over how silly he looks- this is perfect!l]

Continuation of this post

[crescent-blades]

"Everyone's carrying something that matters. You just don't realize when you're carrying it. It's only after it slips out of your hand that you realize how heavy it was in the first place. So many times I thought that I'd never carry a load like that ever again. And yet, before I realized it, I was carrying it again. I'd feel so much better if I just got rid of it. But I just can't bring myself to do it."

Was all this power really worth it? 

Once again, this question would loom in his mind, a contemplation that had now become his constant companion. All this immense strength he had fought so hard to attain was once a singular desire of his heart—it was the only thing that truly mattered to him; it was the only thing that would truly bring him peace. To become the strongest samurai in the land—a dream he had envisioned ever since he was a child. It was a weight that he carried ever since he was young. 

—Everyone carries something that matters. 

With each passing day, he fought against his own limitations; with every sunrise, he pushed himself further, extending his limits. Fractured bones, damaged muscle fibre, and the splinters and abrasions on his delicate hands gradually transformed into an increased muscle mass and rough callouses that now marked him. The repetitive motion of swinging the shinai, day in and day out, became a ritual, all in pursuit of a glimpse of that elusive power.    

The days would soon pass by, dragging on slowly, taking away his youth and turning him into a man who would eventually get married. All the duties that would now be placed on his shoulders, as he had now finally attained what he had long desired. This power.. everything he had worked for—as he ascended to a position of authority, commanding even those seasoned warriors who had once been his superiors. All this power.. that had drawn the gaze of rival lords and samurai, each one eager to claim his head. All this power that the commoners had learnt to fear throughout the generations; instinctively parting ways and bowing before him. All this power— 

And he sacrificed it all for more.

Soon, all of his burdens, his obligations—all this weight slipped away through his fingers like fine sand carried off by a gust of wind. He had achieved everything he had ever yearned for. As his six eyes surveyed the fallen swordsmen at his feet, their bodies sprawled across the ground—lifeless; only one remained, clutching a black blade, standing before him in complete solitude. Another lay marked for death by his blade. He was truly untouchable. The relentless struggle for power had now come to an end. 

No one could rival his might; he stood alone at the summit, like a solitary wolf among a herd of sheep. In this ruthless game, he walked a path devoid of allies or equals, for anyone who dared to approach him would inevitably disappear. And he would remain untouchable for many years to come..

For countless years and centuries, he would seek the finest warriors, travelling far and wide to seek the strongest within the lands. However, engaging them in combat felt like crushing ants. Yet still, day after day, he relentlessly pursued them, pulling time along in his wake, biding his moments until they reached their zenith. He even took it upon himself to train some of these warriors, nurturing their skills only to ultimately take their lives, all in the pursuit of an ounce of thrill, a worthy challenge, and soon—  

He knew that he was carrying that weight all over again.

A weight he had placed upon himself—a burden he understood would lift if only he could let it go. Time and again, he found himself reflecting on this, disappinted yet again as he clutched the entangled hair of the beheaded swordsman in his palm—weak, just like the rest. Just another offering to present his lord as was customary, as he found himself pondering once more—

 Was all this power.. really worth it?   

[crescent-blades]

Hellllllo :D

heres a cat doodle for u :3

Michikatsu takes the piece of paper and observes it—a depiction of a feline.. yet, with proportions most peculiar. The ink does not cascade, like the regal droplets that grace the canvas—free like flowing droplets on a windowpane; instead, it lingers—still like leaves forged of heavy metal. Lines intertwine and dance, the paper alive with miscellaneous sketches, as the sane soul before him offers a sane greeting, a sane smile gracing their sane face. 

"They take.. as they dream the noble pose of sphinxes.." 

The man returns the paper, uncertain if it carries a message from his lord. He flicks his sword, shaking off the remnants of battle as he sheathes the blade; a gentle pat upon his steed, he rides into the horizon. A strange encounter, forever etched in his memory.

[crescent-blades]

❛Goodnight demon man :3❜

(Not sure if your accepting asks, I saw the prompt post so I thought I would send one 😁)

The night draped itself in a shroud of chill, the rain pouring from the outside weaving a symphony of croaks from the frogs that serenaded the stillness of his estate. Shadows danced in the stillness of his room, only illuminated by the flickering flames of the oil lamps that cast their delicate glow—like tiny beacons of hope in a world filled with darkness and bloodshed; destined to be snuffed out. Such were the ways of these lands.. this world was nothing but a somber place.

 Poised upon the precipice of fate, a samurai of his caliber was something many rivaling lords sought after. At any given moment, there could be a raid from a rivaling clan—a cold-blooded massacre unfolding in his very home. Yet, he remained unfazed. The idea of encountering the unexpected, of having to demonstrate his prowess in the face of sudden challenges—was something he found, perhaps unwittingly, thrilling. These thoughts held little weight for him, until— 

—"Goodnight, demon man :3" 

"!"

The samurai jolted awake at the abrupt voice resonating outside the shoji. An unfamiliar silhouette bled through the fine papers—a solitary man seated just outside his room. There were no others present—of that he was certain; had there been more, his subordinates would have warned promptly.

He swiftly approached the door, sliding it open and seizing the stranger by the hem of his kimono, lifting him off the ground as if he were nothing but a wayward chick.

"State your name!" he commanded, dagger poised at his throat's edge. The stranger only bore an unsettling grin—lips contorted into an odd 'w' shape, his tone was nonchalant, as serene as a child lost in the embrace of dreams, untouched by shame or ire. As foolish as a tailor who sews sleeves to the pocket holes—he had wished the male goodnight in a samurai's abode, as if they shared blood. Did he not realize where he was?

[crescent-blades]

I might be done with it in a while :>

The demon studies the drawing that you made. He nods in approval.

"This art.. is very well made. Well done.."

[OOC | ITS GORGEOUS!! incredible, you draw so well!!]

[crescent-blades]

Dear Michikatsu Tsugikuni,

I still remember when I accidentally caused you to fall in the lake because I decided to sneak up behind you to give you a jump scare when we were kids. And do not deny it, you actually were scared. It’s been a while since we met. I hope that you are doing fine and we can soon hang out too.

And it was me who broke your sword last time—it was an accident I swear! I’ll get you a new one! And probably treat you a lunch as well!

—the idiot.

From: The Tsugikuni Estate [Address unstated] To: [Adress] Subject: Regarding the Childhood memories 

Dear 'The Idiot'

To have received a letter from someone who knew me since my childhood days, moves me. However, it greatly upsets me as I find myself unable to recognise this person or recall any of the memories you reference from my past. . The manner in which your letter is composed suggests a lack of familiarity with proper expression or perhaps.. even an absence in formal education. Alternatively, one might interpret your correspondence as an attempt at humour.  Given the structure of your letter, it is evident that you are not someone from whom I have previously received a letter from.

Nevertheless, if you possess my address and have taken the initiative to write to me, it is reasonable to conclude that you may be one of my men. It is important for you to recognise your position as a fellow samurai and to approach your responsibilities with the seriousness they deserve. Engaging in jest with someone of higher rank is inappropriate, as it can disrupt the established hierarchy, potentially jeopardising the stability of our entire clan.  

Regarding the damaged sword, it is important for you to improve your proficiency in handling the blade; breaking a katana is a mistake only a wild, clumsy bear would make. I look forward to meeting you tomorrow by evening, and I will take measures to ensure that you avoid such errors in the future.  

Regards

—Tsugikuni Michikatsu