𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄   𝐌𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑   𝐆𝐎𝐃,   𝐈   𝐂𝐀𝐍   𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄   𝐘𝐎𝐔   𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆  

 moodboard for @moonfelling for luka & mizi

A lift of that delicate veil, the leaning in of the Lady Founder. Ena presses a soft kiss to Douma's temple, a sacred spot to both of them, a blessing before his hunt.

Douma leans down, head bowed in a posture of reverence and humility, hands folded before his chest in prayer. A prophet receiving his blessing from a goddess.

He exhales slowly, and a fine cold mist billows from his parted lips, head deliberately turned away from her as to not let the cold invade her lungs. Joy had long been lost to him, but he is certain that it was the feeling of her warm lips against his frigid flesh.

His eyes flutter open after the kiss, a finger oh-so carefully wiped away the frost that had gathered on her cheek.

❝ I HAVEN'T SEEN a half decent garden in a while... why do you maintain it ?? ❞

@moonfelling (eiko) // one liner call

" hey, stranger ! small world, huh ? " a smile, wide, a wink with her eye that isn't strange and smooth like a subtle manufacturing of stone. whatever he's drinking, it's set down in front of him, fresh, to his liking. tequila sunset and one of whatever that guy over there's drinking, thanks ! and then a slide of the ginger-haired gunslinger into the booth across from him. the booth in the corner, where sisyphus can rest his boulder, rest his legs and arms, and she can get a real scoop out of him. " you look rough, pal. you okay ? " asks kioko, lips wrapping around the coiled straw in her drink, pulling the colorful liquid up slowly. ( @ sisyphus :3c )

── And for a second - for a perfect millisecond - he's home again. the taste of honey whiskey rolls 'cross his tongue and down his throat in a deluge, and he's sitting in front of his grandfather again, and they're back in the sunroom. the paintings are mostly completed. some are unfinished. some will always be unfinished.

the old man dies before he can talk again. this time, he's not killed by his body finally tapping out. the end does not come to him by natural means. it comes to him by someone approaching, citing that he looks rough -

and for a moment, he is infuriated. of course he looks rough. of course he does. he travels from this particular canvas all too often as of late, person to person, world to world, meeting and staying and meeting and staying. he travels and he talks and he makes new friends, and then he leaves them. or he travels and he talks and he winds up with an arrow through his jugular. or he travels and he talks and he doesn't get a chance to explain, because someone saw him do something wrong - not wrong to him, wrong to them, like they know anything about the word - and now he's being chased like he was today.

and now he's sitting down in a corner booth, delighting in his silence and falsified memories of a life better lived, and someone is interrupting him.

the liquor in his veins calms his temper. the glass before him helps. the face across from him does not.

he pulls his head up from the table, takes a breath, and musters his best attempt at a smile. it is not a good one.

❝ i appreciate the concern, but i am fine. if i wasn't, i would not be here. ❞ he would be screaming his lungs out in a canvas unoccupied; he would be dragging his nails through the dirt in hopes of digging a hole for himself; he would be curled up somewhere, dark and damp, waiting for the stormclouds to settle up above. anywhere but here.

he sets his own glass to the side, the contents all but drained, and slides the new one forward.

" i - inosuke ?! " it comes as a shock at first, watching the boar waddle in with bruises across his ribs and blood seeping from one of the eyes of his mask. tanjiro lunges up from the dinner table to brace his friend, careful not to touch his torso much, not wanting to hurt him anymore than he's probably already hurting. was it a demon? did he just get back from a mission? did he wrestle a bear again? " what happened ? we need to get you to see aoi-san, right away ! "

For a second, Inosuke looked uncharacteristically sheepish. He was like a mischievous child expecting a deserved scolding, his steps silent as he followed the walls, his senses on high alert.

It was crucial that he got to Tanjiro first.

"What?! No! This is nothing! No need to get the blue nurse involved... or anyone else!"

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought of it, while Tanjiro's hands hovered above his wounds. Inosuke had no fears, but the girls of this manor? They scared him.

"I was testing my strength, that's all! Just to make sure I still had it in me! I couldn't find any demons to hunt, so I stopped for a fish break... and I got my fight!"

「WHOA!! wait wh⸺!! 」 is all that escapes, practically yelped into the air as the air is knocked out cold from usually strong frame in favor of a weakened wheeze escaping. timing and luck were never truly in favour of his existence, and yet there are some things even aspen does not anticipate. for example having someone literally fall out of the sky like some sort of reverse team rocket; directly in his direction. and maybe he could've avoided that sort of crash landing with him as the more than confused landing pad, but something in him whispered that maybe he should try to cushion the others fall. and if there's one thing to take away from the sheer chaos of it all, then it's that he definitely cushioned that damn fall like a pro. fullbody effort & all.

the second he can he slowly sits up, every muscle in his body still tensed from the impact he barely managed to brace for before he feels a hint of concern wash over him; clawing its way to the core of his mind before he can even consider any damage on himself. 「 holy shit?! are you okay?? 」 he questions, voice a startled, higher-than-usual pitched mess while he finally lifts his upper body until he's leaning on his hands in a semi-sitting position, eyes focused on @moonfelling as worried eyes carefully take in the other as if to make sure she's okay.

@moonfelling asked: [ RESTRAINED ] :  for  our  muses  to  be  tied  up  together  ( first meeting prompt - noel & vanitas, vnc-verse :3c )

It wasn't often that Vanitas found himself in ... this position. He prided himself on being slippery, on finding ways out of every situation no matter how dangerous or how many unaccounted for variables there were. Sure, there were a couple of fuck ups that ended in some minor injuries - hey, if he wasn't dead then they were all considered minor - but he made it out each and everytime.

.... Therefore he was left pondering on how the hell he was currently somewhere he didn't recognize with his arms and legs bound together tightly, and also tied back to back with a stranger.

As much as he hated to admit it, he was out of his element with this one.

"Quit squirming, unless you want to get yourself nicked." He hisses towards her, blue eyes focusing on nothing as he gave all of his attention into trying to undo his constraints. They'd taken his coat, and therefore had taken his daggers - and the book, he thought with an uncomfortable anxiety that made him force himself not to move too jerkily unless he slice skin, but he does have small knives hidden among his person. Only a couple ... unfortunately, he had grown much too reliant on using the Book of Vanitas in combat, given that most of his attackers lately have been vampires. He'd almost forgotten that not all dangers lied in half feral vampires with corroded names.

[ sms ] - What else could I possibly mean by the word body?