#vulpesscarred

[caseloaded]

Kurama cursed under his breath as he shifted his weight. Blood seeped steadily through the fabric of his pants, spreading in dark, irregular patterns as the burning sensation intensified. But the sting, the sharp ache that should have demanded all his focus, was barely registering. His mind was elsewhere—trapped in the moment he’d been rifling through those damned papers. He hadn’t even heard the shot until it was too late.

The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the thought that he’d been careless—careless enough to get shot. The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth, a hollow rage building in his chest. He hated how it made him feel—exposed, vulnerable. Weak. Kurama couldn’t stomach the idea of being a liability. His muscles tensed, jaw clenched in frustration, when suddenly Fox’s arms slipped around him, lifting him with ease. The move was so fluid, so unceremonious, that it took Kurama a second to register what was happening. 

Gritting his teeth, Kurama shot a sharp glare upward at Fox, trying to suppress the rising embarrassment that flushed his face. ❝ Excuse me? What the hell do you think you’re doing? ❞

If the circumstances were different, Kurama might have thought the gesture was romantic. Who wouldn’t want to be whisked away amidst carnage by the hands of someone so gentle yet so dangerous? 

Before Kurama thought of demanding to be put down, his mind shifted gears quickly, focusing back on more important matters. His gaze darted around the blood-soaked room, taking in the carnage Fox had unleashed. A trail of bodies littered the ground, twisted in grotesque positions, eyes staring vacantly at nothing. The air hung thick with the scent of death and iron, but one question pressed harder against his mind than the bloodshed.

❝ Hold on — please tell me you left someone alive, ❞ Kurama said, his voice lower now, but tight with urgency. Each word betrayed his growing anxiety beneath the surface. ❝ We can’t leave without the information we came for. ❞

Kurama's gaze flickered back to the room he’d been searching through, now scattered with bloodied papers and chaos. The case was too important to abandon, and the thought of failing just because of a bullet wound gnawed at him. ❝ You know I’m not leaving without it. ❞

@vulpesscarred | continued from ( x )

[nvrcmplt]

Look what I found in my hard drive... WHEN I USED TO DRAW,,., It'd be nice if there was a pocket Yomi that Mitsu could carry around,.,,

THE BABYYYY ( sure i have this saved in my fan art folder somewhere, forever and ever kept KEK ) i love him sm, lil stress doll for the pockets.

[kisumitenderly]

📏 Fox - 6'1"

[kisumitenderly]

❝ turn around. you don’t need to see this part. ❞

It was too late.

Kisumi had seen more than his fair share as the man in front of him became something else. Something other. A cold drip slowly trickled down Kisumi’s spine and the icy chill rested deep in his bones.

That froze him unable to look away, unable to move as he bore witness to Fox’s underbelly of crimes.

“Why? It’s not like you can protect me.”

[kisumitenderly]

❝ are you hurt? did they hurt you? ❞

Kisumi didn't see himself running into Fox. Frankly, his instincts were to run. Hide away. Shield yourself from anyone else so the pain can stop. Kisumi flinched when he first heard his voice. He knew that Fox of all people could easily inflict more pain upon the situation but just hearing his voice fresh tears rolled down his cheeks unable to hide it anymore.

"I... I couldn't see them." That was the most embarrassing part of all of this. He hadn't even known who had done the attack. Whether it was random (doubtful), could he even be the target, or had it been a message to his Uncle? Kisumi tucked his face away from Fox as he held his side tight. He knew ugly bruises marred his skin where the clothes covered it.

[caseloaded]

[ readjust ] sender comes up behind receiver and readjusts their stance (maybe holding a gun, holding a golf club, aiming for something, etc.) to help them 👀

@vulpesscarred | PROMPTS FOR ORDINARY THINGS THAT FEEL INTIMATE ( accepting )

Kurama’s fingers trembled faintly against the revolver’s grip. He steadied his aim, exhaling through his nose, forcing himself to focus on the bullseye ahead. Cerulean eyes narrowed in determination, but the edges of his vision blurred, a cruel reminder of the sleepless nights that had worn him down. The weight of the upcoming case pressed heavily on his mind.

Kurama missed his shot, followed by another, each miss widening the gap between his intention and execution. Frustration threatened to spill over as he considered lowering the revolver completely, ready to curse himself for failing at what he usually excelled at. Just then, he felt Fox slyly approach him from behind.

The touch was steady and deliberate. Fox’s gloved hands brushed lightly against his skin as they adjusted his grip, and the silence and firm grip left no room for protest. A firm press guided his elbows into alignment, while a gentle nudge at his shoulder coaxed out tension Kura hadn’t realized he was carrying. Each correction was maddeningly precise and professional to the point of detachment, yet somehow it felt disarmingly personal. Kurama’s pulse quickened, and his grip on the revolver tightened as heat rushed to his face. He tried to ground himself, to push away the thoughts that crept in—how close Fox was, and the strange, unwelcome comfort of being guided.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip, suppressing any words that might betray the vulnerability he fought so hard to conceal. The butterflies in his stomach were already mortifying enough. After Fox adjusted his stance, Kurama pressed the trigger, and the bullet hit the center of the bullseye almost perfectly. Kurama then lowered the revolver, stepping deliberately away from the firing lane—and from Fox. He rolled his shoulders, a performative attempt to shrug off the moment, though he could still feel the heat prickling his face.

❝ I didn’t need your help, ❞ he muttered. His gaze dropped to the revolver, the weight of it somehow lighter now. He sighed, frustration melting into reluctant acceptance.

❝ I’m bored of this, ❞ he pouted, already moving to stow the gun. ❝ And I’m starving. Let’s get some food. ❞

[kisumitenderly]

💕💡📷⌨🎭

💕 in-canon ship I love Sousuke paired with Kisumi. The grumpy/sunshine is something I really adore about their dynamic. Currently, with my threads the current ship that has the most leg-work so far I'm loving Nikki/Kisu with @bclasaeg It's so sad and delicious

💡 Already has been answered here

📷 he's just so cute

⌨ I just really enjoy writing slow-burns with interesting dynamics. I love watching Kisumi fall in and possibly out and back into love with someone.

🎭Kisumi and I are probably only similar in a handful of ways. I have resting bitch face lol and he's like total sunshine. We're both good with people but I need a break where he can't get enough. We share a love for cute stuff. But I hate basketball!! I'm sorry Kisumi I think the sport is the worst.

[nvrcmplt]

[ RESOLUTE ] sender wakes to find receiver is already out of bed so they come find them and sleepily embrace them,  refusing to let go.  // even tho fox doesnt need to sleep he does this to icarus anyway

It was a strange place, waking on campus and underground, out of sight and mind. Thankfully, unlike humans, the Dolls don't need sunlight to function completely, so it wasn't like he'd be slower or broken from the lack of sun in this place, but it was odd to not look out a window to tell the time by the sun's position. Attending this space was something he was rather fond of now that Fox used him correctly. Not saying that others on base wouldn't of been able to fit the role, but Icarus did quite like their aesthetic better. Black and white, Blue and gold - it just tickled his brain right, no matter how artificial it was.

At current, though, he was fixing a pancake breakfast - after all, his knowledge of Fox's birthday was today, and he had much to prepare for a celebration for the two of them. A spread of the kitchenette was filled with all sorts, and he hasn't seen Fox around yet, but he mattered not. It wasn't a surprise party, but it seemed to be turning out their way as he moved to mix cake batter and icing together to bake. Pancakes on the stove, bacon, eggs and tomatoes. It was a hearty meal for a special man and so Icarus took his time to decorate the plates with toast and butter, even a serving of honey toast which was one of Icarus' favourites.

As he in the middle of serving bacon to each plate, he felt his skin tingle. A shiver that rolled down his spine - predator… A return of his Fox and when greeted by the arms of them around his middle, he found himself smiling with a tenderness and welcomed the warmth at his back. "Welcome home, Fox." Though it was meant to be a good morning, it was hard to say such when both of them rarely slept. It was a nice thought and beds were indeed warm, but when you don't really need it to be 'human', then it was a rather boring mimicry.

"Hope you're hungry… I made a lot for your birthday."