#assorted flutedeath.

[zilveninde-blog]

shoves the cone of shame on his damn head, ya filthy sinner. but look, it has stickers. sparkly ones.

SHISUI.  

            happily flees to the corner of repentance.            thank u,  tayuya-san.   i feel cleansed            already.

                                  “  --- can i keep the sparkly stickers ??  ”

                    pretty please,  tayuya-san.   pretty please.

[zilveninde-blog]

“That doesn’t look like a scratch.” sit yo ass down shisui tay's gonna show u how its done

--- TO FIND MY MUSE BANDAGING A WOUND.  ll  @flutedeath  ll  accepting !

SHISUI.      ---  best let it be written in tales to come that that of shisui,  is a fierce pout.   bandage lays in the cup of one palm,  lackadaisical.   it isn’t merely a scratch,  but.   MOTIVATION is difficult to dig up.   tricky, slippery bastard ( about as slippery as empty fingers now become ).

“  ahhh...  i suppose ?  ”         lashes low,  fanned out as eyes crinkle over the feint of a smile.    “  it’s fine,  though.          i know how to take care of myself.  ”

sort of.   mostly.   physically,  definitely.the will to do it is another matter entirely.with an odd grumpiness that he can’t quite define,  shisui pokes at the edges of frayed skin, made slimy by clotting blood.   it’s been cleaned,  at least.   another poke  //  a faint buzz of warning pain along the senses.   meh.

[zilveninde-blog]

❛ i don’t want to pretend anymore. i didn’t want to lie. ❜

SHISUI.         --- that,  uhh.

     personal opinion is swept aside ( for later ),       seeks refuge at mind’s edges to make way     [  for softer, urgent things ; their precise        pronunciation  ].            “  do i need to bring you anywhere safe ?  ”task of a bodyguard or that of a lover ?   or of whatever it may be called when those entwine.some event spurs this approach && its shockwaves have yet to reach one’s ears ; it has either gone over well or is a very recent development.   probably the latter,  if the vagueness of this rushed intent is any indication.

               fingertips.   his,  pale to the tension in her wrist.   little complaint ( within oneself ) follows a heeded urge ; little effort,  little height,  little pressure of full lips to the backs of her fingers.“  if you have need of me in any way,  you have but to ask...  ”

&& right now,  the wish to focus on the less,  uhh,  ‘romantic’ aspects of that promise outdoes all others.dammit.   it’s a comparatively short sprint to the castle’s outer walls,  but one that allows for too much intervention from above unless shielded properly.   nothing that cannot be done, - training on the perimeter with everything from freerunning to simple push-ups in precarious places has nurtured an intimate knowledge of the castle grounds --- but what are they up against exactly ??maybe he’s overreacting.ugh.

                   “  you can enlighten me any moment now.  ”

                   [   uhh.  ‘ ... your majesty ? ’  oops,  lmao.   ]