This is a RP account for the Kunzite character from the anime and manga series Sailor Moon, but after seven years it is devolving into a generic Dark Kingdom fanpage. Think of it as a collection of round-robin fanfics and fanart.
I can also be found @suxedomask and @uwubeus in a much less prolific and infrequent capacity.
Have fun, stay safe, wear a mask, and wash your hands.
sometimes you just need to succumb to the whimsical urge to sit on an elevated surface high enough that your feet can't touch the ground and kick your legs back and forth aimlessly
Aphrodite’s Epithet Aesthetic Series 6/?? || ANDROPHONOS - Killer of Men
As a goddess of Love, Aphrodite is naturally associated with mourning and death. She is the motivation for most murder–passion, whether love or hate. She is Anosia, Unholy; Epitumbidia, She Upon the Graves; and Tumborukhos, Gravedigger. As Venus, she is Venus Libitina, associated with the Roman goddess of funerals and burial, whose name was used as a metonymy for Death itself.
She drives lovers together, drives them apart, drives them to death. She is their birth and their end. She is a goddess of love–and as such, a goddess of despair, mourning, suicide. She is the tears at the funeral, the flowers on the grave, the broken hearts left in the absence of another.
This account is turning 10 and like...... absolutely no way I'm getting rid of it. It's such a microcosm of my life and my adventures, people loved and lost, and I owe a lot of creative and mayhaps spiritual??? growth to it.
At the moment I am working on some independent projects that have more of my attention than maybe I'd care to admit, but my inbox is always open and welcome to new faces and ideas
Build: Kuro is built like a bookshelf, broad and heavy from a life of sports and manual labor with strong, callused hands.
Distinguishing Marks: His hands and forearms bear a few tiny scars, scratches, really, from his work, but nothing compared to the ugly gash on his chest, resembling a scar more than the birthmark it is.
Fashion: Kuro favors clean lines and soft, neutral colors. His wardrobe is simple to allow to transition between seasons, styles and trends. He likes to keep warm, and layers blazers, sweaters and scarves regardless of the season, and it's rare to see him out in public in anything as flimsy as a tanktop, or shirtless.
Personal
Profession: Kuro works in various greenhouses his parents own on the outskirts of town, elbow deep in dirt. The nursery supplies many of the city's flower shops, but is famous for its competition-winning breeds of roses. Kuro spends most of his days getting rid of weeds, pruning thorns and checking the pH levels of soil.
Hobbies: Studying botany, working out, testing out which music makes his plants happier
Languages: Japanese, a bit of latin to understand scientific names of plants.
Residence: Kuro lives in an apartment near his parents' greenhouses. It's small cozy, but it allows him to be close to the business so his parents can travel. His balcony, and every windowsill is covered in potted plants.
Religion: Raised Shinto, but his connection to plants and the Earth more resembles paganism.
Fears: Taking over the family business, finding out what his dreams at night mean
Relationships
Family: Kuro is the only and dearest son of two doting parents who are very excited to see their son take over the family business so they can retire. Of course, if he could settle down and give them a few grandkids first, that would be even better.
Pets: None.
Additional information
Personality
Kuro can be standoffish, even aloof, and it's no secret he prefers plants to people. The only time a flower has ever disappointed him was when it failed to bloom. With a rose he can expect to be hurt, but people are far too unpredictable.
When he does open up, it's very rarely and to those Kuro can be totally and utterly sure he can trust. While Kuro doesn't have many secrets, he has always felt... different. He has had strange dreams since he was a child, and despite being told he's handsome, he has never felt as though he fit in with his peers.
Still, he is affectionate with the few he cares about, and tries to be kind, or at least polite to strangers.
Smoking Habit: Not around his plants!
Drugs: Never. Kuro is a good kid, and would never disappoint his parents like that. He doesn't even know where to get them.
Alcohol: Only at special occasions.
The Hook:
Kuro has been running from Kunzite all his life, even if he doesn't know who the other is. Without the other shitennou, he assumes his dreams of a golden kingdom, or nightmares of a dark kingdom are simply a sign of some mental illness, something to be hidden and to hide from.
There would be no telling what he would do if knew the princes and knights and sailor suited guardians from his dreams were real.
Zoisite could barely hear the words Kunzite spoke, the words were so soft. In a way, it seemed invasive to be listening; these were private thoughts spoken aloud.
“Oh, I have plenty that I want. Everyone does. I do not trust someone who says they have no wants.” And he did. He wanted success. He wanted security. He wanted status and importance and, deep down, revenge. He wanted to look down on everyone who told him that he was worth less than the dirt beneath their shoes. “The difference between Jadeite and I is that I’m simply not loud about it.”
But he chose not to comment on that last statement. Why? What made Kunzite feel that way? Had he not been told that he was not feared? That he was still green and inexperienced and raw? Unused to power. Unused to authority. What made him dangerous?
What, he wondered, was dangerous about him?
“So… what is the biggest thing I need to know about riding?” He wanted to change the subject. Surely, there were other things to think about.
The question seemed to snap him out of his stormy thoughts, and Kunzite looked as though he was trying to work out the Gordian knot with one hand tied behind his back.
"Your predecessor used to tell me, 'The animal beneath you is not a pet, it is a tool, and if used correctly, a dangerous weapon,' and I don't think he was completely wrong," he said with a resolute nod, even as he leaned down to give his horse's neck a fond pat.
"I believe every horse has a personality as varied as their riders, and the wisest calvaryman is the one who treats their steed like any other partner. You work together, as one, to bring out the best in one another.
If you're going to be running into battle, you want to be alongside someone you can trust."
Somehow Kunzite wasn't sure he was still talking about horses.
"...And keep your heels down. It helps your feet stay in the stirrups and your back straight. Good posture is the best defense against a sore ass when you're spending the entire day in the saddle."
He had stepped just a little too far, then. That glare over Kunzite’s shoulder spoke louder than any reprimand could. Zoisite gave the Standardbred a nudge to speed up and match pace with Kunzite’s, falling into step once they rode together.
The compliment put strength behind his smile, though. If the other looked closer, he might even notice a flush of pink over Zoisite’s cheeks.
“No. I have been called irritating more times than I can count. Never charming.” That was a level of esteem that he doubted anyone had for him. His time in the military had made him few friends, and in his time before? Absolutely none. “
Zoisite glanced away, composing himself, before looking back to Kunzite.
“Thank you for that, then.”
"I'd say you're almost as bad as Jadeite when he wants something, but you don't want anything, do you," he asked softly with his eyes straight ahead, looking as though he was furious, and he was- at himself.
Upset for letting the one thing he had been running from for years happen, letting a stupid, selfish infatuation with a stranger distract him. The fact that the stranger had become someone his destiny was now permanently intertwined with was all the more damning, but Kunzite could only sigh, running a gloved hand through his hair.
"Somehow I think you might end up being the most dangerous of all of us."