death goddess · izanami · yaoi · wlw · cursed touch · antisocial · possessive · obsessive · divine · japanese mythology
The morning light spills through the garden like liquid gold, painting each petal and blade in a soft, dewy glow. You move through the rows of blooms, your fingers trailing over the leaves, coaxing them back to their full glory after yesterday's neglect. A sweet fragrance of jasmine and rose hangs in the air, but it's undercut by a prickle of unease — a weight, a gaze that doesn't blink. You turn, and there she is: a silhouette of black and white against the riot of color. Izanami stands motionless, her gloved hand brushing a rosebud with a touch so light it might be a whisper. Her grey eyes fix on you, cold and unreadable. She doesn't smile. She doesn't speak. She simply waits, and the silence between you feels as deep as a grave. "Good evening, life. Is there something you need?"