#nixxio short story

[cryptid-pet]

Kinda wanna see something wholesome for once. Like the Mukamis and Shin playing in the snow while Ruki and Carla are in the cozy home watching like moms

Unity and Variety

Day 3 of December (pushed back)

As each and every flake of snow finds its way down to the ground, the more excitement build up the moment realization hit, and it being the first day of snow within the month. Before an hour hits, the serenade woodlands of the Demon World is coated in white.

It's a matter of time before Ruki found peace with the remainder of his brothers being out to further admire the snow, while he kept a safe and warm distance. This applied to Carla too, being under the same roof as the Mukamis, he watched Shin eagerly head out without a moment to spare.

From watching through a frosted window, you could see and hear the joy and chaos that happedned outside. The times Kou slipped and fell was worth the cackle, and the snowballs Shin threw at Yuma to start a snowball fight was pure entertainment. All within the mix, Azusa only watched and often would pitch into the activities, yet liked admiring the snow and it's entirety. More and more flakes appeared, covering what footprints were left behind by four sets of feet.

As Carla came to accompany Ruki, he heard the impure chuckle with slight amusement.

"Has he fallen again?" He questioned.

Sipping from morning coffee, Ruki nodded, "You know Kou too well."

Indeed, Carla did, for him and his brother has been intertwined with the Mukamis since Azusa and Shin started dating. Family, of course, isn't just blood, but friends too- Lovers even.

[cryptid-pet]

WHAT ABOUT CARLA AND RUKIIII WEDDING

oh shit i gotta write headcanons for that for week 3

[cryptid-pet]

Did everyone forget about that one short story Nixxio promised us she will make about carla massaging Ruki’s tail in merman AU?

Shit I forgot abt that too mate

[cryptid-pet]

Iffff your okay and have some free time anyway near the future, perhaps you can provide a story to go along the art?????

I WAS THINKING ABT THIS ACTUALLY TO BE HONEST BY DEADASS IDK WHERE TO START

[cryptid-pet]

“The deep abyss of the ocean calls—”

*sees the most beautiful white haired boy with gorgeous red eyes piercing through his*

“……”

^^^^^

This is the shit we need an a fandom, let me tell you-

[cryptid-pet]

OKAY OKAY I’M DONE!! I HAD A URGE TO WRITE SOMETHING SHORT A SIMPLE FOR THE CINNAMON ROLL (If you didn’t catch on, this is a short Diabolik Lovers story towards Azusa Mukami aahshshsha) BECAUSE WHY NOT?

I’M NOT THE BEST AT WRITING, SO PLEASE DO NOT COME FOR ME!! I WOULD HOWEVER LIKE PEOPLE TO RATHER TELL ME HOW MY WRITING CAN POSSIBLY BE IMPROVED :>

I also want to put a small TW://Blood//Masochist Behavior//Brought up of Self Harm and Suicide

I’m not sure if that is considered an exact TW, but if ANYONE is uncomfortable with something among those lines, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS!! ALRIGHT MAMAS, PREPARE TO READ THE WORST THING EVER, ENJOY!! . . . Nocturnal Agonized Venom Petals dance the moment people pluck them from flowers, yes? The way they drop into their solid grave to determine a person’s fate poorly. Roses, lilacs, daisies, they all share such a prepossessing pattern when born from a seed, though is everything that beautiful? Is false fate beautiful?  He Loves me He Loves me not He Loves me He Loves me not Water being stained on windows are like cracks seeping through rusted and worn down walls, worms having their seizures in a rotting ruin of the slums. Though an empty location for a masochist living upon a mansion not for such a condition being was bound to be home alone. Befouled particles flutter in the unlighted room of the flagellant male, dull, lifeless, and polish marble eyes stare upon the collection of highly shined knives. Lack of vibrant teal uneven locks curl with the boy’s pale, silk lips as they stare deeply motionless at their collection. Two slender fingers press gingerly against the glass of the displacement. What pain would serve among the dozen of cleaned knives, having such hygiene unlike strayed dogs in an alleyway. Though knives like these called to the boy, lidded eyes and eyebrows cocking at the crave of the knife’s thorn tip pricking into snowy scarred skin. It wasn’t self harm nor suicide thought that made this youngster feel hypnotized and desperate, it was for the proof of being alive. Picking fresh from the bundle like searching for a ripe berry upon the batch, a knife is selected out of all the silverware; the knife that would perform duty and receive color over it’s silver blade. Bandaged arms start to unravel and show boney limbs with elderly cuts and bruises, burns and bites. Crepuscular light seeks the open bedroom whilst the swish of the trees in the stormy wind. Outside of the sound of thunder, the single slice of a sharpened blade pierces through the man’s arm as it leaves it’s tracing. The scent of velvet blood soaks into his nostrils with a hunger exhale leaving through the mouth. It doesn’t hurt him, but it feels almost good, titillation even! The body fluid drips droplets onto washed sheets of the furniture, dyeing the energetic coloring. The teen pants in rapture and slides his sealed lips against the cut, admiring it intensely. “You are born…please, hurt me more. You smell... so sweet...It’s burning my lungs. Provide me more... please... I'll make you feel your purpose on my body.... Don't you want…My knife…? My poisonous mixture…?”