#“ ━━ ◤ ɪ ꜱᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ & ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ; answered. ◢

[threebetrayals]

@nightiingaled​ sent:  [ throat ]  (now what if I made you keep being mean to kit; imsorry.)

»  violent actions    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting      »»    [ throat, reverse ]   your my muse wrapping a hand around mine’s yours’ throat.

  showing subordinates who’s in charge with a little violence isn’t something he’s ever been opposed to, although usually such instances came with calculated and controlled actions, with chosen words. prone as he CAN and HAS always been to emotional outbursts, in most cases he’s still able to maintain his cool.

           —but, most of the time, people aren’t able to strike him so DEEPLY, down to parts of himself he considers long buried.

she hadn’t meant to do it  ( she never does ).  all she had done was come running back to him with freshly picked flowers in hand, a bright smile lighting her face. perhaps she had thought HE might like them as well, that if she shared them with him, he might cheer up a little. unbeknownst to her, however, in that moment he had found himself BACK in inazuma; in a field full of flowers, a young boy tugging him along excitedly as he points at the biggest bloom, reaches out to pick it only to turn around to gift it, to gesture for kunikuzushi to crouch down so he might tuck it behind his friend’s ear.

kit had stepped forward, arm outstretched with a flower in hand, but before she could reach his ear, kunikuzushi had snapped VIOLENTLY back to reality.

there’s no thought, only reaction. a hand thrusts forth and, rather than grabbing her wrist to stop her, he goes for her THROAT. slender fingers apply pressure — not enough to choke, but enough indeed for the THREAT to be there — and his ice cold gaze meets hers. she hadn’t meant to trigger such old, sensitive memories, doesn’t even know that she’s DONE SO, and he KNOWS that, but he’s never reacted well to being confronted so unexpectedly by the past.

     “ keep your inane findings to yourself. ”  his voice is quiet when he speaks, frighteningly chilly and DEVOID of any of the emotions plaguing him on the inside. when he finally releases kit from his grasp, it’s none too gentle, and he continues to STARE down at her, expression unreadable.  “ i have no desire to patronize your interest in plants. ”

[threebetrayals]

@rosemourne​ sent:  ❝ so i’m not allowed to give you a nickname, little bird? ❞ // FROM AYATO

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting  

     “ no. ”

  there’s no hesitation, and even less regret for the bite the answer carries as narrowed eyes glare piercingly up at the man before him. the man who CONTINUES to maintain his polite composure, his hideous mask which the wanderer can see right through, regardless of how well-crafted it may be. it may be enough to fool others, but he had seen beneath it even before kamisato had begun his THINLY-VEILED PATRONIZING the first time they’d met. discomfort rolls off the wanderer in waves, and he hates it, hates that he knows the other man can SMELL IT on him in no doubt the same way dottore had always been able to. a shiver threatens to crawl beneath his skin, but that much, fortunately, he’s able to fight against.

     “ you most certainly are not. ”  barely hidden in his words, or the way his entire body stands rigid, is a THREAT. a non-specific threat, but one that can easily be presumed as violence in some form or another — a warning he would NOT have been so kind as to offer in another lifetime, and one he only offers now as a courtesy to kazuha. were this man not effectively his partner’s boss, he’s certain he would have done something extreme by now, either to shut kamisato up or to simply EASE the flurry of unpleasant emotions he feels whenever he lay eyes on the man.

     “ i have absolutely no desire for a nickname from the likes of YOU, even if you were to offer one less patronizing. ”

[threebetrayals]

@palmatums​ sent:  a scarasmooch, for his scaramouche. <3

     “ disgusting. ”

  with a fittingly nasty look to match his tone, arms folded over his chest, he looks down his nose at his own damn boyfriend kazuha. a beat, then his eyes narrow;

     “ do it again. ”

[threebetrayals]

@wcyfarer​ sent:  "Oh no, Scaramouche called my eyes 'pretty', what shall I do."

     “ what, is it the first time you’ve ever received a compliment? ”

  his tone of voice implies a LACK OF SURPRISE at this revelation, though the indignant sniff that follows as he glances away gives the impression that he hasn’t anticipated the words sticking.

     “ don’t go thinking it meant anything. i merely used it as a means to insult you. ”

[threebetrayals]

@guaxian sent:  ❝ is it revenge if justice is served? ❞

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting

     “ is revenge ITSELF not justice? ”

  this is one of those moral qualms he’s always despised. this ridiculous FEAR that revenge is wrong; so many mortals seem to buy this belief, and for what? to favour things like FORGIVENESS and UNDERSTANDING? it’s pathetic. the way he sees it, if someone wrongs you in any way, you have every right to get back at them for it. they deserve that much. to not take action, especially out of fear that it’s wrong, is quite simply WEAK.

scoffing, scaramouche waves a hand as though to brush the question to the side. it’s a pointless one, doubly so to be discussing it with a human, but he’s in a good mood so he supposes he’ll ENTERTAIN IT for the time being.

     “ revenge is getting even with someone who has done something to wrong you. sounds like justice to me. ”  his tone of voice rather BORED, the harbinger shrugs and sets his gaze on xinyan, studying her reaction. while he doesn’t really care if she agrees with him, there’s a VAGUE interest in what her response will be all the same.  “ if revenge taken happens to fall within justice in terms of the law or what’s morally right... then bully for you, i guess. ”

[threebetrayals]

@alatusatlas​ sent:  [ throat ]   scaramouche to xiao? like after he gets the gnosis and is Built built

»  violent actions    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting      »»  [ throat, reverse ]   your my muse wrapping a hand around mine’s yours’ throat.

  in the past, it’s possible he could have lost in a fight against a yaksha. as things stand NOW, however... well, he has all the power of a GOD at his fingertips; there’s no contest. xiao puts up a good fight, all things considered, but only the might of another god provides a TRULY even battlefield.

the yaksha is out of breath, seemingly trying to recollect his energy before continuing the fight, but shouki no kami grows BORED, uninterested in repeating the same series of events all over again only to find themselves right back in this very place. while he can’t deny that there is indeed a good amount of PERSONAL SATISFACTION in vanquishing opponents with even more ease than before... there are OTHER THINGS he wishes to tend to. a fight like this is a mere distraction, a pointless endeavor into removing the crown of a freshly-born god.

massive hand sweeps through the air, wrapping around xiao none too gently and raising him up, up to the faceplate of the GIGANTIC mechanical body. a hiss of air and the plates separate, opening to reveal puppet-turned-puppeteer who looks on in amusement, an ominous chuckle rising from his chest. in a movement all too abrupt to offer much time for reaction, he thrusts an arm out to his captured prey, hand wrapping around the yaksha’s throat. a squeeze, almost like he’s TESTING the strength of the other’s neck, and glowing eyes seek that unique yellow gaze of xiao’s.

     “ what do you do now? ”  he asks MOCKINGLY, head tilting with the question. sinister smile plays at his lips, and the everlasting lord of arcane wisdom tightens his grip, wishing to HEAR that fight for breath, to SEE the desperation in the face of his opponent.  “ there are no archons here to save you, and your yaksha friends are long dead. you came here ALONE and you’ve FAILED in your mission. what do you do now? ”

[threebetrayals]

@palmatums​ sent:  ❝ if you’re planning on killing me, at least let me finish this song. ❞ // modern maybe?

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting  

  brought to a pause by the words, kuni stands still in the doorway to the living room, gaze slowly drifting from kazuha’s very focused expression down to the dexterous fingers that move so smoothly along the strings of his guitar. lips purse, but he says nothing further as he simply OBSERVES for several long moments, listening to the tune his boyfriend works to construct and watching as he pens down a few notes here and there in a nearby notebook. finally, kuni exhales a mighty sigh and steps further into the room, setting down the drink he’s brought kazuha from work on the coffee table before him.

     “ fine, ”  he agrees, tone missing some of the bite it had held just moments ago. leaning forward, kuni then takes it upon himself to FULLY interrupt the other man’s work with a couple fingers beneath his chin, tipping his head back so he can steal the soft ‘welcome home’ kiss he’s owed. once he begins to pull away though, hand dropping and eyes opening to meet kazuha’s gentle, vermillion gaze, his voice lowers as he speaks mere inches from the other’s lips;

     “ but the lyrics of this song better be your last will and testament because i WILL be spending this next hour plotting out your very careful and detailed murder. ”  a smile far too pleasant to pair with words that sound so genuinely serious, and kuni presses another quick peck to kazuha’s lips before he turns to leave the room.  “ i wonder if it’s too late to file for life insurance... ”

[threebetrayals]

@wcyfarer​ sent:  "I don't listen to my haters." You, specifically.

     “ hmmm? ”  head cants, and he glances about, eyes drifting straight over traveler as though he isn’t there. another moment of silence in which he seems to listen, only to then shrug.  “ guess it was just the wind. ”  or a hater.

he can play your petty games too, aether. and win.

[threebetrayals]

@savedgames​ sent:  ❝ you don’t strike me as someone who fears death. ❞ — hands you a Paimon

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting    

  for a long moment, it doesn’t seem as though he’s heard the floating companion’s comment — that, or he’s simply IGNORING her entirely. instead, he plods along in silence without so much as a glance in her direction, the only indicator that he’s contemplating her words being the clouded look which has entered his eyes.

     “ you don’t live through the experiences i have and maintain a fear of death. ”  response finally comes, breaking the still air he’s let fall between them. there’s a matter-of-factness to his tone, even in the quieter way he answers, an implication that such a thing is just NATURAL. being less... guarded around others is not something he’s used to yet, even if he is trying with certain people, but it is, admittedly, somewhat easier with those who know his ENTIRE LIFE STORY — who knew it and STILL helped him in such extreme ways, offering him yet another chance which he doesn’t deserve.

     “ at one time, i suppose i did fear such things. ”  though it has been hundreds of years since then, and he'd learned better long ago. death is not something which comes EASILY to him, as he’s not so fragile as mortals, and were he to be completely, brutally honest... he’s come to see death as more a RELIEF than something to FEAR. that much, he’ll keep to himself. lifting his gaze from the path his feet follow, the wanderer turns his attention to paimon — acting as a glorified babysitter again, he suspects — and scrutinizes her for a moment.  “ a fear of death is healthy for those to whom it comes easily. for those of us LESS susceptible... it becomes more a burden than a tool for survival. surely you understand that better than most? ”

[threebetrayals]

@alatusatlas​ sent:  ❝ you think war drives me? or power? wealth? no. never has. ❞

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting  

  none of this comes as a surprise. for all he knows of yaksha as a whole, they’ve never struck him as creatures driven by such things. of the three, war comes the closest to anything he might have guessed, for wealth is a driving force for mortals alone and power... —power cannot be what drives you if you remain under the COMMAND of another for thousands of years.

no, he can’t say that he’s once believed any of these were the thing that kept xiao going. but that only serves to confuse him further.

     “ then... what? ”  he asks, his voice a touch quieter than he means for it to be. it’s a question he’s never thought to ask anyone before, having believed for a long time that there are a limited number of things people can be driven by, none of which make someone TRUSTWORTHY. something he had learned the hard way, and something he had unlearned in an equally hard way. now... he finds himself less certain of what keeps others going, what makes them choose to act a certain way, what drives the decisions they make...

and... perhaps he’s trying to figure out a bit more clearly what he himself should draw on to continue moving forward.

     “ you have lived far longer than i have. what is it that’s driven you all this time? aren’t you... tired? ”

[threebetrayals]

@magsipium​ sent:  ❝ maybe, for the moment, you’re of more use to me alive. ❞

»  ragnarok prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting  

       where has he heard THAT sentiment before?

  biting back the retort on the end of his tongue before it can slip free against his better judgement, he purses his lips. the instinctive response is a petulant one and, while he doesn’t always hold himself back these days, it seems wise here. the astrologist is one he’s wronged in the past — not in any of the SEVERE ways he’s wronged many others, perhaps, but he knows she’s clever and talented; if ANYONE could deduce events from a past which most don’t remember through the stars, it would be HER.

     “ my usefulness is the only reason i’ve survived this long. ”  there’s a note of bitterness in his tone, but the aggression he offers is a great deal less than what he would have put forth mere months ago. arms fold over his chest, and the wanderer regards the astrologist quietly for a long moment, indigo eyes surveying her closely. somehow, he doesn’t believe she’d truly try to kill him, useful or not. is she simply trying to INTIMIDATE? he wouldn’t say it’s worked, he’s not terribly afraid of what she MIGHT do to him if he tried to walk away, but she had certainly gained his attention with the words, at the very least.

     “ and what is it, exactly, that you believe i might be of use for? ”  it’s not an agreement to aid her, per se, but it is in indication that he’s willing to hear her out. 

[threebetrayals]

@palmatums​ sent:  gentle hands, one wrapped and one in his usual bracer, tug lightly at the white garb adorning the other's features, carefully straightening the collar with dexterous fingers before smoothing out invisible wrinkles along the garment. digits linger near the pristine glow of his anemo vision - but kazuha does not touch it. rather, he peers up at him through thick lashes, and moves two digits around the item - reverent, but undisturbing. it is something that belongs exclusively to kunikuzushi, after all. 

 the smile that splits his face his warm, vermillion eyes soft in the dappled morning light. he leans forward, beneath that large hat, and places a fleeting, anemo-infused kiss upon his lips.

                 " it looks good on you...                                                   wanderer. "

  head tilted downward at just the slightest of angles, indigo eyes follow the movements of kazuha’s fingers as they adjust and fix his outer layers. admittedly, there’s a quiet tightening in his chest when those same fingers venture CLOSE to the vision he wears so proudly over his chest and, were it anyone else, he’s certain he’d SLAP the hand away. the item means too much to him to allow it to even come close to being grazed by hands not his own. kazuha though... kazuha, who has somehow found it in himself to forgive him — to some extent, at least — for all his horrendous actions... who has returned to touching him in that same gentle, caring way in spite of EVERYTHING...

                        kazuha, he trusts. it’s TRULY the least he can do.

the ronin leans in closer, drawing the wanderer’s gaze upward once more, though his eyes close just before their lips meet. there’s something more exhilarating to the touch of anemo mixed into the kiss now than there used to be, something that feels... strangely comfortable. RIGHT. 

one hand raises to tilt back the wide brim of his hat, the other to brush fingers faintly, almost hesitantly, over one of kazuha’s own. he’s still... readjusting to such shows of affection, though it IS coming back to him with more ease than he’d have expected. in the next moment, his hand closes over kazuha’s, still so close to his chest, as their lips part and he finds himself staring once again into those deep, kind vermillion eyes.

     “ doesn’t it? ”  a proud response, but one which carries less vanity and boastfulness than it might in the face of anyone ELSE. before kazuha, there’s a genuineness to his tone, something almost... soft, as his gaze lowers to where the vision sits so openly over the place his heart should be.  “ i wasn’t certain it would, at first. but now... it feels almost natural. ”

[threebetrayals]

@dilucisms​ sent:  ❝ nobody wins in war. ❞

»  arcane prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting

     “ on the contrary, there is ALWAYS someone who wins. ”

  he’s seen enough war to know this to be true, having even started one himself. that’s not to say he doesn’t understand what the other means — these statements have been said countless times, and always by people like this; those who consider themselves good, who believe in morals, but are ultimately average citizens. in war, they ARE the ones who suffer most, the ones manipulated by those who the war is truly for, and the ones who receive all of the consequences of war without gaining any of the benefits.

it’s true that these people, regardless of which side they are on, do not win in war. but that doesn’t mean that there is NO victor.

     “ just because you may not see it doesn’t mean this victory doesn’t exist. ”  there’s a SMUG air about the harbinger as he continues, derision in his eyes and in the smirk which plays across his lips. it’s experience from which he speaks, having USED wars between others for his own personal gain, incited one to achieve goals completely separate from those for which the people fought for.  “ wars are not started by those who fight them, but by those behind the scenes. those with POWER pull the strings without the majority ever discovering their TRUE motives, and someone always gets what they’re after. if you think no one wins in war... well, that just shows what you REALLY ARE, doesn’t it? nothing but a PAWN. ”

[threebetrayals]

@rosemourne​ sent:  a gentle, lingering kiss is placed on scara’s cheek, and his face nuzzles into inky hair. happy kazuha noises.

  as it usually does, the expression of affection throws him off his thought process, makes his mind falter so the words on the tip of his tongue are LOST. a blink of surprise as he’s stricken dumb, followed quickly by a noise of disgust that doesn’t REALLY carry any weight. what even prompted this? kunikuzushi certainly can’t think back on anything that’s happened or been said in the last few minutes that would encourage such an act, so it all seems very unnecessary. 

          and yet, he makes no move to truly push kazuha away, only a simple nudge to keep up appearances.

     “ what? ”  question more rhetorical than seeking an actual answer, he almost doesn’t notice the way his arm wraps around the other man’s back, the move feeling so bizarrely NATURAL. fingers closing loosely around a few folds in kazuha’s clothing, there’s a faint wince in the harbinger’s expression from the tickle of the ronin’s nuzzling, as well as a flicker at his lips that he’ll deny ADAMANTLY if anyone chooses to call him out on it.  “ what are y— this is ridiculous. ”

[threebetrayals]

@rosemourne​ sent:  wake - from kazuha GIMME MORE GENTLE WIMDY BOYS

»  word prompts    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting       »»  [ wake ] for your muse to wake mine

  a gentle nudge is the first thing he becomes aware of as he stirs, followed by a few murmured words that he can’t quite catch. deep breath drawn as his body becomes VAGUELY aware of its surroundings, kunikuzushi’s eyelids flutter before sliding blearily open, squinting against the warm light of the sunrise. it takes a moment for him to get his bearings — he... doesn’t REMEMBER falling asleep, much less doing so outside, his back against a tree, and the rest of him... slumped against his companion.

falling asleep in the presence of another is something he’s not done in a long time. to put himself in such a VULNERABLE position, to lower his guard so far— it’s UNHEARD OF. yet here he is, waking with his head on kazuha’s shoulder, the other man’s fingers brushing so softly through his hair.

     ( he loathes how reluctant he is to sit up, how much he wants to just remain as he is. )

head lifts, admittedly rather groggily, and he fights to stifle a yawn, hand lifting to at least HIDE IT when the action wins out. kunikuzushi’s mind is fuzzy from just how deep his sleep had been, but he still starts putting his walls right back up as he shifts to put a bit of distance between himself and kazuha. gaze sweeps the small forest clearing, noting the long-dead campfire, before he finally turns his attention to the man at his side.

     “ you should have woken me sooner, ”  he says, words falling just short of CHASTISING. refusing to admit to himself or kazuha just how well he slept, how comfortable he had been right up to the moment his mind started to rouse, the balladeer opts in to something more FAMILIAR to him: griping about the circumstances. moving to rub at a sore spot along his back, he sighs in a very disgruntled manner, faintest curling of distaste at his lip.  “ i can’t believe i fell asleep in the dirt, and in such a ridiculous position. i’ll be sore ALL DAY from the way that knot in the tree was digging into my back, ugh. ”

[threebetrayals]

@pyrokept​ sent:  [ sweep ]

»  violent actions    ‒‒‒‒‒    accepting

    »»  [ sweep ]   your muse knocking mine off their feet.

  how he’s found himself in a fight with someone so INSIGNIFICANT, he’s not sure. annoying as it is, it shouldn’t last long — the kid’s already panting from the energy he’s expended, and scaramouche... well, he’s just been PLAYING with his food, really. if he’d wanted, he could’ve put an end to things several minutes ago, almost the instant they’d started.

       he’s been dreadfully bored lately, and this is providing him at least some amusement.

swords cross, eyes meet — he can see the fire in the other’s eyes, but has he really got any ABILITY to back it up? he’s not without talent, but it’s difficult for that to really shine when your opponent isn’t just another human. the harbinger has had few issues in PREDICTING his moves, and even fewer in countering his strikes. kid’s trying, sure, but it’s all for NAUGHT. as he resists the forced pushing against his own blade with ease, scaramouche holds bennett’s gaze as a slow, deliberate sneer spreads wide across his face. lips part, patronizing words on the tip of his tongue when, all of a sudden, he feels an unexpected foot hooking on his ankle with a surprising amount of force.

before he knows what’s happened, the balladeer’s back makes hits the ground HARD, knocking the wind from his lungs. stunned, he blinks at the sky, wheezing as he tries to find his breath and, before he can even manage that much, his opponent’s blade is pointed at his throat.

     “ not bad, ”  he rasps after a few seconds, once he’s able to fill his lungs again. despite the circumstances, he smirks up at the kid, seeming, aside from PHYSICAL effects, to be unfazed by the turn of events.  “ kind of a dirty move, but i can’t fault you for falling back on such tactics when you’re fighting a losing battle. the real question is... what are you going to do NOW? ”