THERE IS A GIRL IN THE TOWER;

#coalgod. multimuse featuring amo empool of kei urana's gachiakuta. super low activity #tbh. written by iyak (they, 22, uni student). remake of a blog from 2019. truly a relic. i don't bother with graphics and i do minimal formatting. simply because i have no time lol

rules. no weird behavior, i block easily. multiship, multiverse, all that. probably canon divergent. it's been years since i've read the kny manga, sorry. i love plotted relationships and planned threads and i want to focus on those.

note. amo's backstory in particular involves child sexual abuse/rape. absolutely no graphic depictions of such topics will be present. all discussions of them will be tagged.

muses. (bolded; main, italic; testing).

ah, there's truly no other way to go about it: once more, amo has made a terrible mistake. from somewhere that is deep in her chest, where is what is tightly embraced by the span of her ribs, the beat of the heart is too loud yet too quiet. maybe everything has become quiet. it's such a strange feeling. it reminds amo of ... ( memories that linger, sometimes even when she sleeps; silence after push and pull. boots beneath her fingers. iron inside her mouth. aching skin of her face ). she stops. she unravels. reze is still bleeding. there is another droplet where the last one was wiped off. amo finds herself stuck ( she has to look / she has to look away ).

to the question, she has no answers. was she angry? sad? through the frantic tension she finds it hard to recall. what did reze say? why did she say that? ❝ amo doesn't ... ❞

shame descends upon amo without any grace; the sudden overspill of irritation, to her rapidly calming mind, now appears terribly childish. were they able, perhaps her shoulders would lean inward, shrink until she was a mere speck of dust that is not to be seen ever again. alas, she only manages to slump, coordinated with the gaze of hers that drifts away as far from reze as it could.

where reze's skin makes contact, warmth lingers. perhaps it is what draws amo's eyes to her; where she is looking at amo with calmness that both steadies and startles her. regardless, she can make no move to pull away. after all, she can only watch the other's slow, prolonged movement, as what little remains of rational thought seems to trickle away. kind of gross? gross. gross. gross. what method is reze even talking about? ( it can't be too bad? ) from the corner of her vision she catches the tiny red splotches splattered along the fabric. her dress is already stained, and ... reze isn't wrong. mr august already worked hard to make this dress for her, so she can't stand the option of ruining it further!

❝ oh? ❞ movements still with a gradual pause; almost as if it were not her hand, amo had not noticed a line of red that transects across the otherwise normal span of skin. it's a small thing, not enough to indicate its presence with a painful sensation, yet the trickle of fresh blood threatens to expand further across. oh, her clothes might get stained! ❝ um ... it's alright! amo can take care of it! ❞