#kitsunas

𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐒,     remnant essence  bound and fettered  to the island as the moorings of a seaward vessel   —     unable to chase the uncharted horizon.     But he did not mourn his freedom,   the ruined isle was his duty and   HIS SIN   to bear.     For eternity he stands sentry,   spine uprightly and obstinate,   guarding what was left of home.     The presence of another does not elude his  careful watchfulness  over the land,   and he seeks them out in order to discern their intent.

and she, capricious queen of her own empire of gold and bones, impatiently waits for him to finally join her.        his men have politely led her to a hidden room on the side of the main saloon, an intimate space entirely decorated in crimson velvet and black leather ; not once, even as she takes a seat on the comfortable sofa,   does her proud spine bend forward in relaxation        ⸻        one may never know what happens, once they willingly intrude in the den of the wolves after all.

random    ask    prompts     ;    always    accepting (  @kitsunas  my  little  ruby  !!   ah  ♡   )

he   walks   amongst   mortals   --   in   their   cursed   realms   hollow   of   salvation   never   to   be   reached   ,   jewel   -   clad   and   soaked   in   crimson's   most   saccharine   taste   to   adorn   digits   alike   a   dance   of   macabre   beauty   ,   terror   inflicting   ;   destroyer   of   all   empyrean   ,   devourer   of   dreams   .   within   these   angelic   halls   ,   reeking   of   naught   but   deceit   in   its   purest   divinity   --   upon   all   ,   the   saint's   honey   glazed   promises   ;   do   not   fall   for   such   !   all   holy   ,   wiped   ,   painted   by   corruption   entirely   --   truly   ,   to   be   farthest   from   honesty   to   have   been   plead   .   a   tortured   deities'   bound   to   such   sphere   for   as   long   as   own   agony   may   last   --   today   ,   does   someone   else's   waltz   disturb   the   symphonic   arrangement   of   hedonism's   rhythm   (   underneath   a   dome   of   heaven's   gates   to   dwell   .   .   )   --   and   who   would   the   devil   claim   to   be   ,   if   not   to   claim   such   offered   opportunity   ,   join   such   ecstatic   melody   to   beat   along   his   rotten   heart's   tact   to   jump   in   joy   of   excitement   ignited   by   a   rather   unexpected   guest   .   indeed   ,   many   had   he   hosted   ,   welcomed   --   even   more   slaughtered   ,   dragged   ,   crushed   until   the   distasteful   stench   of   bodily   fluids   would   flood   polished   boots   ,   the   shatter   of   splintering   structure   underneath   the   saint's   touch   alike   a   grail's   holiest   temptation   naught   but   his   to   taste   --   in   his   stride   does   tact   reside   at   his   mercy   only   --   does   the   pulse   of   room's   inhabitants   follow   their   conductor   so   wantonly   !

Send me a 🖌 or “paint brush”, and I’ll draw your muse terribly in ms paint.

pov pretty evil fox lady ruins your life

There is a sudden twitch of vulpine ears, the feeblest of stretches across her limbs whilst she languidly turns to the side, curious gaze settled ‘pon the slumbering frame of the man. The sun has yet to rise, only a timid light shedding luminescence across the bedroom, ‘pon the creases of silken sheets and the curves of resting bodies. It would be only fair to let him rest… But when has she been fair, in her long existence? It is with guiltless nonchalance that she climbs on top of him and there settles ; a leg positioned against each of his sides, a taunting sway of hips against his own as she makes herself comfortable and the plushness of her bosom pressed against his chest. Her cheek is gently nuzzled against his own, a loud purr thunders across her breastbone. 

❝   I am awake and in urgent need of attentions.   ❞

       IT IS THE SHIFTING OF WEIGHT THAT ROUSES HIM, drags his consciousness from the ever fleeting abyss of the senses, a true quiet of a mind constantly running. TO SPEND TIME WITH HER WAS TO SUBMIT TO HER CAPRICIOUS WHIMS, never to properly rest... and yet it was the closest he came to it, every time. THERE IS NO TRUE REST FOR THE LIKES OF HIM but the soft silks of her teasing promises wrap around his neck and keep him coming back.

        HOW EASY IS IT, TO SLEEP KNOWING NONE OTHER THAN HER WOULD DARE BOTHER HIM, to rest in limbo between danger and thrill, his body and mind spent, both brought to an euphoric release? NOT THAT HE WOULD EVER ADMIT IT, OF COURSE.

       "Mhm..." It is less of a response, and more of a drowsy acknowledgement, a low reverberation from the bottom of his throat, his eyes blinking open, the blue glow only accentuated by the still timid light of dawn. As she settles on top him, his head is cradled in her arms with her chest resting on top of his own, hips giving another demanding sway -- how terrible, he was entirely caged. "I am sure you are."

       A HAND FIRST REACHED TO RUN THROUGH HIS OWN HAIR, but it derails from it's path when his fingertips brush against the fuzz of her ears, and there it settles, an idle scratching of her scalp that slowly crawls lower, pressure turning lighter until he barely trails teasing paths up and down her back. THERE, HE TAKES THE TIME TO SHIFT AND STRETCH, his own hips grinding against the weight resting on them to the purring delight of the she-fox, his beard brushing against her cheek as he more or less reciprocates the motion with a teasing languidly.

      "As I am awake, yet in dire need of sleep -- I fear we might be at an impasse." But his free hand moves, slides to rest beneath her thigh as to drag her closer while his other stops its teasing trails and rests instead on top of her lower back, a cage of his own. "I could fall asleep just like this, you are ever so pleasantly warm." His voice still ever so slightly hoarse, the glow of blind eyes trailing to where he knew her face to be.

@kitsunas

He knew if Hatter ever caught onto him he could end up dead but then again Chishiya felt he was much too clever to die over such a thing. Tonight after he finished the game, he did not go back to the Beach, he went back to the group his true leader belonged to. Chishiya had gotten good at creating duplicate cards he had been giving to Hatter whilst giving the real cards to Tamamo.

An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme ❰❰ ARGUE ❱❱ sender ends an argument with receiver with a kiss

         How quickly, an off handed comment snowballs into a debate... before turning into a crashing avalanche of an argument when neither side wants to concede to the other's point of view.

      AT THE END OF IT ALL, THEY ARE TWO DIFFERENT BEASTS. They speak, they communicate, but while they say they understand each other... do they really?

      And Kenshi would make that clear through words, his rising posture showing that he would get up and leave soon after speaking his mind -- but his body braces before his mind has time to question what for, and suddenly there's a weight on his chest again as he's shoved back down, a soft grunt of indignation exhaled through his lips.

      BUT HE DOESN'T GET TO SAY ANY MORE OF HIS SHARP, JUDGING WORDS, he doesn't get to think, for thoughts are interrupted when ever demanding lips entrap his own as to silence him. He isn't particularly amused, Kenshi's brow furrowing as blind eyes trail to meet where he'd know hers to be, his lips remaining pursed tight into a slight frown.

      'This changes nothing, you know this.' A thought, daring to find its way into her mind. And it might be true, and she might know it as well as he does, but it isn't the only truth to be found here.

      AS HER HANDS COME TO CUSP HIS CHIN, IDLY CARESS THE SHARP EDGES OF HIS CHEEKS, so do his own move, trailing up the bare legs that straddled him, coming to a rest at her hips. He could push her off, if so desired, he could still get up and leave. 

      He does not.

      BENEATH HER PRESENCE, his cold disregard melts into nothingness, forced to present himself as he was: a deeply wanting man, of flesh and blood, of principle and need. And as he finally caves beneath her ministrations, lips parting to welcome the she-fox's attention, it was clear which one was winning -- much to her delight.

      Without separating their lips, Kenshi pushes up against his elbows to allow him to promp himself up just enough to sit up beneath her, hands on her hips used to put her flush into his lap.

      THIS MIGHT CHANGE NOTHING, but that didn't change how satiating this felt, a selfish thirst drowned out by simple pleasures.

Otakemaru definitely leans more towards being thoughtful of the natural world.     He grew up on an  uninhabited island,   so he has always been surrounded by nature and witnessed firsthand how he uses resources taken from the environment to support his lifestyle.     Moreover he always makes sure to replant trees and generally give back to the island what the island gave to him.     His love for Mount Suzuka and its inhabitants was never limited to only his family,   Otakemaru  cares for  and protects everything that was born and resides on his island   —     the people,   the plants and animals,   the earth,   and the memories.

However,   Otakemaru is definitely not any sort of public advocate for treasuring the environment,   he will protect Mount Suzuka from harm because he loves his home but beyond that,   if someone burned down an entire forest somewhere else he wouldn’t really care.     He might share his  views and opinions  on the importance of treasuring nature if someone was interested,   but he won’t police how other people feel about the natural world unless they’re somehow hurting Mount Suzuka.

Otakemaru is the type to  bottle everything up  and put on a brave face.     He takes his role as the Young Master of Mount Suzuka very seriously,   so he makes sure never to break down where someone could see him.     Whenever something sad or upsetting happens,   he is always the one who  won’t let himself cry,   instead putting on a strong front for the people around him as their leader.     Similarly,   he is always the one who  thinks rationally  in times of distress,   never letting himself dwell longer on what cannot be helped than what is strictly practical.     Rather he focuses on what he can do as a next step,   shifting his thoughts away from  grief.

Unfortunately,   this is not always easy.     Otakemaru is fundamentally still very young in terms of his lifespan,   and he does tend to get stuck on things  in the past  instead of looking forward.     He cannot easily  let go  of his grief and it can make him difficult to console,   although it is also very hard to even notice when he’s in pain.