𝕆𝔹𝔼𝕐 𝕄𝔼 𝕆ℕ𝔼𝕊ℍ𝕆𝕋𝕊; 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝🦋

🕸𝔹𝕒𝕣𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕤𝕩𝔾ℕ!𝕄ℂ - 𝙰 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚌𝚊𝚛 𝙽𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝙳𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚛𝚎

Jumping timeline to timeline,
he was sure this time things would work out for the two of you,
for the Streetcar Named Desire had driven him to you on the outskirts of Elydian Fields.
He'd spotted you looking so daintily and frail sat under the illuminating rays of moonlight, your fragile beauty captured as if you were merely a small, frail moth sat by the lakes edge only a few meters from the bustling railroad.

A moth.
A creature drawn to danger.
Perhaps, that's also what humans are,
the butler thought as he approached you for the 7th time now.
The 7th time you'd be drawn to him:
he who took on the role of another person each encounter.

Ever since that fateful evening,
Barbatos knew you'd become his, he was enamoured with you.
Yet every time you'd try a relationship, it'd fall through, so the butler would rinse and repeat the process, holding onto whatever slither of hope he could that you two would eventually make it.
You'd have to, right?
But how many years had it been at this point - decades, even?

After each failed attempt, the disheveled demon would take whatever knowledge he'd learned about you and apply it to both you and himself next time: roses are your favourite flower, spceifically blue ones, so he'd bring you a dozen to see your cheeks glow and eyes dazzle under your faded and flickering porch light, muttering a small and meek "thank you" that would set his heart abalze as he'd dip his face down to meet your lips, in an attempt to too, hide his own blush.

Yet each attempt turned up nothing, no matter what he changed.
Whether it be how he presented himself or how he chose to court you through gifts or praise.
But this time, he was certain he was going to get it right.
You two would finally be happy together, live together in bliss, both bathe in happiness for the first time in your lifetimes thus far.

That Sunday evening, Summer 1987, he had picked you up as expected, showering you in praise the second your door had opened: your dim light barely illuminating your figure as shades of fushia flushed your face.
Oh, he always thought you'd look prettiest like this, shuffling nervously whilst trying to hide your expression, taking his arm lightly as he'd escort you to the car.

He had seen this so many times now with how often he'd taken you out over the years, but you would remain oblivious to it all.
To all the times the butler would time travel to save you again and again,
all the times he'd sob and breakdown, losing his usually calm demeanour all because he couldn't have you.

Laughing and drinking the night away, he sighed, wishing to live in this moment forever. But alas, he was drawn from dreamily eyeing you up from across the table as you rose to your feet, inviting him to dance to the 'Varsouviana.'
It was an older song, popular in the 1940's, but he knew it was your favourite as you'd told him on the third try it had been your grandparents's favourite song to share: it was now your song.
Together.
That thought, that word, always made his heart swell with joy and pride knowing that he was yours and you were his.
Atleast for now.

The polka played gently in a minor key, faintly over the Varsouviana, from down the street of the small pub.
Swaying together amongst people, Barbatos couldn't help but feel pure bliss. Everything seemed to be perfect. You had never looked better, more happy and peaceful, immersed in the dance, hands interlocked with the brightest smile that outshone any light projected onto the dance floor.
He could see it clearly now - you'd still be wearing this same smile at 40, 50, 60 or 80, folding washing in the garden and swaying an old, familiar song that would merely be a faint memory at that point, but you could've sworn began with a 'V'.
And he would still love you all the same, he'd decided, he had seen death on you before once or twice on his... adventures, yet even in such a state you'd looked as ethereal as ever.

Slowly, a tear rolled down his face as a small, genuine smile graced his face, eyes focused on the ceiling as he absorbed the atmksphere up, not wanting to forget a single detail.
However, something was missing - the warmth of your hand was gone from his now - you'd have broken away from him somehow.
And a few moments later - a shot.

The polka down the street stopped abruptly, and the butler felt his feet cement themselves on the ground, stiffening. And as if nothing had happened, the polka started again, in a major key.

Barbatos ran out - as did all - all gathered around the terrible thing at the edge of the lake.
Yet he couldn't see what had happened clearly, being blocked by the large crowd, folks yelling out and pulling hid arm back,
"Don't get any closer! Come back! You don't want to see!"
See what?
Then the voices started up again:
"Y/N! Y/N!"
Someone had stuck a revolver into your mouth, and fired - so that the back of your head had been - blown away!

Another tear slid down the butler's face, eyes widening at the relaisation he had failed again, the voices drowning out as the crowd gradually decreased.
Under the dim moonlight, your corpse lie in a puddle of dry blood, still awaiting an ambulance.
You'd still looked as angelic as ever, like the first day he had laid eyes on you, he decided, even though your blood stained clothes and scattered brains weren't familar to him.

What had gone wrong this time?
Who'd have intervened?
What was their motives?
He had seen it clearly this time - a house on top of a hill with children's names, you, a pretty little thing, cleaning as he'd come home to your embrace and a kiss on the cheek, from you and the children.
You two were meant to be happy this time, right?
The streetcar had bought you two together - you were destined for one another, weren't you?
But there you lie, in Elysian Fields close to the lakes edge, opposite the now empty railroad, escaping destiny once again.

_________________________________________

Well hello there everyone !
It's been, quite literally, months I do apologise.
I've been focusing on recovery as well as my education lately, however I'm finally back at a place where I feel inspired to write (:
This was inspirsed by the play "A Streetcar Named Deire", Eng Lit students will know (;

Other small notes I want to quickly make:

•I will not be taking requests for the time being, I want to focus on writing what I want to write until I'm confident enough to take up requests again

•I plan on opening a Jujutsu Kaisen Angst Book. This book won't  be taking requests either at first.

•I plan on updating once a week for the time being in order to avoid burnout and to ensure enough time for my coursework, etc

•I identify as non-binary now, and my preferred name is Kyo, any pronouns are allowed :D

Any spelling errors please bear with me, I type on phone and my autocorrect doesn't like to work ):<

Thank you guys for over 65k reads, I hope that you guys can all look forward to my new content here and about Jujutsu Kaisen !!

I've really missed this community, thank you all so much for the patience and continuous support even in my absence.

I will work harder for you all🐈💓🌩