heirpins

[heirpins]

hello   !   not sure where all these new kny blogs are finding me,   but please know any indie kanao interactions can be located on my multimuse @astralsung   !   this blog is group-only,   thanks   !

#✿* ( マーキア. ) ━ ooc. #i will get back into doing replies soon hopefully #tho i wont be doing the event since it uhhh doesn't really interest me sorry ...

[heirpins]

drew myself a halloween kanao icon ♥

#✿* ( マーキア. ) ━ ooc. #✿* ( オクナ. ) ━ visage.

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

            That ringing noise was starting to grate on her ears. In the back of her mind, Lycelle knew that it was meant to scare and intimidate – the discomforting sound working with the scratches on the wall to make one’s imagination wander. Her speculating mind did just that, although her guard was up rather than freeze in terror: it was the instincts of an adventurer, you see.

            And at this moment, her instincts were telling her that she was going to get a headache at this rate.

            Headaches were all too common amongst the Echo-gifted however, so she’ll just have to grit her teeth and bare it. Besides, there was no way she would leave her companion unsupervised. She looked behind, making sure that the butterfly-adorned child was still within sight.

            “ Let me know if it’s too much, alright? ”

@heirpins / haunted house starter : room a !

the discordant noise does little to bother kanao;   rather,   she’s able to ignore most of of the screeches that reverberate through the walls.   the strangest thing about it,   if anything,   is why it’s placing in the haunted house.   wouldn’t have demon screams be sufficient enough   ?   or the quiet.   it always makes her more tense when the uncomfortable silence hits their surroundings.

it’s difficult to tell whether her acquaintance felt the same way   ---   especially when she takes the first step to comfort kanao.   it’s unneeded,   but she’s thankful for the concern.

her lips curl upward   ---   not quite politely,   more assuring than anything else.   it’s her way of replying that she’s fine for now.   instead,   kanao lightly tugs on the other’s sleeve   ---   whatever part that sticks out just enough to catch her attention   ---   and points to the side where a door lies.   it’s rather ominous,   but perhaps it’ll lead them to an exit.

#shadowbringcr #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola #isolaween2k19

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

     ✿ The look of nostalgia and fondness is briefly reflected within the eyes of the stranger and for a few moments, the seeress can’t help but wonder why that is. Does she, perhaps, remind the other girl if someone she knows or once knew? Or is it something more than that? Though Yeul is unsure of the answer, it’s not in her nature to make inquiries about such personal matters when she is so unfamiliar with the person in her presence.

     As she starts to lose herself within her thoughts, the girl is brought back to reality as the stranger now offers a small flower towards her person. Blinking in slight surprise, the seeress slowly and almost cautiously reaches out towards the girl, gingerly taking hold of the stem of the flora now.

     ❝ … Is this for me? … Thank you, ❞ comes her quiet gratitude, a small smile appearing onto her features now. For a few moments Yeul looks at the petals of the flower now within her digits, her free hand gently touching its petals now as if in thought before looking back at the stranger once more.

     ❝ … Do you like flowers, too? Your hairpin… It just makes me think that. If I’m wrong, then I’m sorry. ❞

there’s a perkiness to kanao when the other takes the flower,   nodding as she ushers the flowers into their hands.   even if flower picking isn’t exactly a rare commodity,   she’s happy as is that the woman would accept the offering.   not everyone holds a similar kindness   ---   there would be many who would rather toss frivolities away.

❝   i do.   my sister has a garden at   ---   ❞   home.   back at the butterfly estate with aoi and the other children,   where familiarity is missed   &   comfort is gone.   she trails off solemnly, expression briefly blank before turning back into a polite smile   ---   albeit with slightly pursed lips.

#vidensess #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Ogata watches her dab it off, completely silent. It really doesn’t seem to do much as far as he’s concerned. Not like it matters anyway, so there’s no thank you to follow her actions.

“ …..no it’s not really that effective. You’re just dirtying the napkin. “

the man is weirdly persistent in just being bloody, isn’t he? it’s a strange, almost surreal, conversation --- she’s never met someone so thoroughly against being helped, all for the sake of ... well, a napkin.

❝ that’s what napkins are for. ❞

#unstoppable force meets immovable object #anglerfishnabe #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola #isolaween2k19

[heirpins]

@girlseething — nonsexual acts of intimacy: cuddling in a blanket fort

she’s never experienced this before.

when she dives under blankets, it’s always to hide, to make herself as small as possible, praying she’s invisible just enough to avoid danger. when she clutches to a pillow, it is not as soft nor full as this; it is always thin, more folded sheets than actual pillow, and hard as a rock. she is unfamiliar with soft; she is a stranger to joy. she doesn’t understand why set up shelter when you’re already within your housing area.

the canopy is makeshift: bedsheets straightened over wooden chairs to make a cave. the dim glow of candles in their glass containers give a near-ethereal glow. she ignores the holes in the sheet and the wobbling of old furniture. instead kanao shifts just enough to smooth the wrinkled blankets beneath her, and in her hand, she holds onto a smaller pillow.

dorothea is before her, legs folded underneath her thighs, animatedly telling the next story of her opera career. it must be a funny one from the way her eyes light up, but kanao doesn’t follow the story well. she’s too preoccupied by the makeshift shelter surrounding them. 

the brunette gives her a glance when she doesn’t hear a word from kanao.

as if pressured by the gaze, kanao asks what blanket forts are for.

for fun, dorothea says smoothly as if the answer is obvious.

maybe dorothea can see the confusion lurking past kanao’s blank stare. but she doesn't press it. instead, she lies on the covered floor with a serene smile, tresses splayed around her like wings. she gently pats the space next to her. kanao hesitates for a second; after a second, she shifts her position to lie down next to her.

the arm that envelops kanao is --- warm. not suffocating, not painful, just comforting. it’s a foreign enough feeling that kanao squirms a bit, and dorothea raises her arm just a fraction, as if expecting kanao to worm her way out of the grasp. instead, she merely leans her forehead onto dorothea’s collarbone, held ever so gently by her warmth.

she doesn’t hug her back. she does not relax her stiff shoulders. but her eyes go half-lidded as she indulges - only a fraction - in dorothea’s familial embrace.

just for a moment.

#softe............. #girlseething #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. fe3h #✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme. #non isola

[heirpins]

butterfly sisters 🦋.

#✿* ( オクナ. ) ━ visage. #cries #kny spoilers // #kny spoilers #probs not but never hurts

[heirpins]

@breathofinsect — nonsexual acts of intimacy: playing with their hair

while kanao is previously accustomed to spending time independently, she finds it near impossible now. in the expanse of a new land, she cares little to explore the sights or its citizens --- she merely trots after shinobu, more like her shadow than her sister, refusing to let the woman out of her sight. she knows better than to invade her personal space, but there’s no denying there are sleeve tugging, shoulder tapping, seldom hand holding. just reminders that yes, shinobu-nee is alive.

to be greeted with the sight of her sister, her last memory seeing her devoured --- kanao does not normally dare to wish, but every night she begs whoever’s listening to grant her this serenity. 

please. let her have this domesticity. let her have the home she carefully curated in kanae and shinobu. she doesn’t want to lose her family again.

today is a simpler day. there are no tasks to be done nor people to greet. instead, they sit underneath the cherry blossoms of cotes. among the fluttering of petals are collections of butterflies that are drawn like a magnet. but rather than allow them to rest upon her hand, kanao is more drawn to her hands fiddling with the delicate tresses of shinobu’s hair.

she owes too much to shinobu: owes her life, her love, her entirety. the regrets run rampant within her soul, and even now, she remains incredulous that her beloved sister is physically here, able to be touched. she manages to resist her hands trembling, but her lips purse at the familiar sensation of shinobu’s hair.

it’s warm. like her, like their family.

❝ what do you think? ❞ she has deftly woven shinobu’s hair into a short braid, pinned by their ever-familiar butterfly trinket. it’s a little uneven as some strands are sticking out. it’s a bit harder to do these sorts of tasks with half of her vision blurred, but she heeds no mind.

her smiles come naturally now: less polite, more genuine, for once glad to be alive. she’s just glad to have shinobu-nee back.

#:sadcat: #breathofinsect #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola #✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme.

[heirpins]

@vidensess — nonsexual acts of intimacy: patching up a wound

scratches and scrapes are nothing to be concerned with, but it’s always better to be proactive. illnesses can strike from anywhere; she’s been taught that cleanliness is how to actively combat diseases. so when kanao sees yeul with thin lines of red - most likely unfelt from wandering the garden of thorned flowers - kanao is quick to treat the minor cuts.

her hands are deft and gentle; she’s learned from shinobu. she tries to ensure that she doesn’t cause any more harm than necessary. ( antiseptic, as usual, is sure to hurt. )

the bandages are... perhaps a little childish. they’re light blue band-aids with little purple and pink butterflies around them. she understands the tanned ones are more standard --- yet the design is so reminiscent of her siblings that she couldn’t help herself. 

but when yeul stands, the band-aids actually match her a bit. it is a bit funny, so kanao does widen her smile a fraction - just enough to be bigger than her usual expression. 

❝ be careful next time. ❞

#i googled butterfly bandaid #not realizing thats an ACTUAL bandaid type #and i cant find butterfly bandaids can you BELIEVE this #vidensess #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola #✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme.

[heirpins]

@shnbu — nonsexual acts of intimacy: sharing a dessert

kanao didn’t understand the joys of sharing food. doesn’t, even.

she has only seen food as a necessity. taste doesn’t linger; texture doesn’t matter. if it’s edible and if she is told to, she will eat it. she has always seen food for survival and nothing more. when you are starved as a child, starved of not just food but all qualities of life, you learn not to be picky. you learn to accept what is given and have it sustain you for as long as possible.

she’s only recently understood the gravity of food, vital to maintain one’s body and strength. it’s only thanks to kanae and shinobu that she has managed to learn that much -- and it isn’t a particularly easy feat. the food is eaten without a complaint: meats, vegetables, anything. she consumes because she is told to.

which is why the situation is all the more jarring.

kanao holds mochi in a napkin, edges stretched from splitting the treat. her gaze stares at it like it’s an object from space -- like a star, a faraway dream when just a few years ago, she wasn’t even allowed to stare at the display stands. the other half of the dessert is being snacked on by shinobu, who just looks at her expectantly. her elder sister offers it: why, kanao doesn’t know. ( kindness is not yet something she can fully understand. ) 

shinobu doesn’t say anything; they’ve had this conversation about food time and time again. 

just eat it.

and for once, she tastes something. really tastes something. it’s sweet. the flour texture is a little sticky. she can’t tell if she likes it - it’s too foreign, too strange on her tongue. it’s like she’s never eaten before and has just tried it for the first time. there’s too many emotions that want to overwhelm her, but she is left with this frigid emptiness inside, forced by her subconscious to downplay any emotional response.

her face contorts without her realizing it. she doesn’t know why she makes such an expression. ( maybe it’s her body rejecting the urge to cry - even if it’s from happiness. )

she feels shinobu placing a hand on her shoulder and gives it a soft squeeze. quietly, for the next few minutes, they simply sit in silence and continue to eat.

#wait what happened i wanted this to be cute #my hands just wanted to make me sad ig #shnbu #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. kny #✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme. #non isola

[heirpins]

@florashis — nonsexual acts of intimacy: holding hands

it’s tentative at first.

skin gliding across skin, hovering for a moment’s worth, trepidation striking across kanao’s face. she doesn’t remember the last time she’s dared such a feat, deigned herself worthy to be this greedy. maybe she’s learning how to be spoiled -- or maybe just learning how to be human for once; but it’s a feeling that she doesn’t want to let go. and she doesn’t.

her hand, much smaller, grabs onto kanao’s.

and she waits.

waits to be tossed to the side. waits to be slapped, to be hit, to be rejected. she doesn’t know what exactly she’s waiting for, but she completely steels her body and expects the worst. because she is conditioned to expect the worst. she is taught that hoping for the best accomplishes nothing. 

perhaps that would’ve been better. it would’ve scared her less.

instead, kanae wraps her fingers so gently around kanao’s hands that it’s difficult to breathe. she’s never been treated with such fragility, such gentleness - it’s a delicate touch that’s so specific to kanae that it sends a spiraling sensation of goosebumps up her arms. she sweats, but she doesn’t understand why. won’t for a while, really.

but for now? they spend the moment in a carefully created bliss: not quite natural, not yet, but soft nonetheless. 

kanao grips a fraction tighter.

#florashis #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. kny #non isola

[heirpins]

nonsexual acts of intimacy --- select from the following for my muse to respond to:

♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes ♕ : Holding hands ♖ : Having their hair washed by your muse ♗ : Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse’s lap. ♘ : Cuddling in a blanket fort ♙ : Sharing a bed ♚ : Head scratches ♛ : Sharing a dessert ♜ : Shoulder rubs ♝ : Reading a book together ♞ : Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which) ♟ : Patching up a wound ♤ : Taking a bath together ♧ : Your muse playing with their hair ♡ : Accidentally falling asleep together ♢ : Forehead or cheek kisses ♠ : Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc. ♣ : Back scratches ♥ : Your muse crying about something ♦ : Slow dancing

#✿* ( サイマス. ) ━ meme.

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

muichiro had previously helped himself by purchasing some colored paper from the stationary store, scissors as well as some glue? as he diligently focused on whatever he was working on. it turned out to be a butterfly cut out from the light blue paper he had in his possession. the demon slayer had sensed the other’ presence for quite some time, it was only now when he had decided to glance up at her with his butterfly creation gently sitting on his hand. he does not know her name, but her appearance… looked strikingly similar to shinobu. “this sort of matches the butterfly pin on your head, doesn’t it?” 

@heirpins  (  sc  )

she’s never spoken to the mist pillar directly --- but seeing the familiar face is enough to draw her closer. familiarity: that’s what she seeks, what pulls her towards him. her hues shift towards the craft in his hand, ensuring to put distance to respect their personal space. her breath hitches - just for a split second - when she sees the butterfly in hand. when he compares it to kanae’s hairpin, her face changes from surprise to joy.

she kneels down herself, tucking her skirt underneath, as a hand raises to point at the paper. she smiles and tilts her head, a silent inquiry of wanting a sheet as well.

#ohhhh the link works! #its so cute ;a; #infinimist #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola

[heirpins]

Kanao Tsuyuri - Breath of Flower Style

#✿* ( オクナ. ) ━ visage. #b-baby...........

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

@heirpins

     ✿ ❝ … I’m collecting them, ❞ in her typical quiet tone does she address the stranger nearby, who had been watching her for a few moments. It seems that many people were drawn to the seeress and her silent mannerisms and she’s not entirely sure why that is. For all she knows, it could very well be because of her appearance or something akin to that.

     ❝ Flowers do not last forever, but we can still remember them and the memories they bring, ❞ and perhaps that is why she liked collecting them so much; because the seeress and the flowers she loves so much are destined to live short lives.

kanae-nee, she thinks, she’s like kanae-nee: the gentle disposition, the gravitation towards flowers, the very image of grace. it’s what entrances kanao when she stumbles upon the stranger. she doesn’t mean to make her awkward with her stares, but the sight itself is so wistful that it feels palpable: like kanae is right there.

she feels the nostalgia like a butterfly: fleeting, brief, gone with the wind. it leaves with a trail of bittersweet memories and empty heartaches. she keeps the polite smile on her face.

kanao scans the area to pluck a pansy, yellow and purple petals in a bright display: remembrance, she remembers her eldest sister telling her. a fitting flower to hand towards the woman --- if she’s willing to accept it.

#its fine!! i love yeul sm ;w; #vidensess #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

Ogata doesn’t mind the stares. She’s not the only one that has given him a long one but when she extends her hand to give out a napkin it’s Ogata’s turn to stare. From the napkin he turns his eyes to the girl.

“ That’s not going to be any help is it? “ 

she doubts it’ll help much --- it’s a lot of liquid, after all. but it must be better than being in wet clothes. so she takes a step closer and gently dabs some of the droplets away. it quickly stains the napkin, but at least absorbing some of the fluids lessens the weight.

she turns her gaze back to him, smiling politely. see, see --- she would say, if she wanted to.

#they're the straight-faced duo <8') #i love them #anglerfishnabe #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola #isolaween2k19

[heirpins]

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

whatever shade had occupied the sky before the rain had begun to fall, was but a forgotten hue long lost to the darkness of the overhead rain clouds. splatters of thick droplets hammered against rooftops, soaking the stone from grey to black. a few lanterns hung about one of the bridges connecting little tokyo to the neighbouring gardens fought hard against the wind; the little candles within struggling to stay alight with every gust of october’s chilly breeze. 

it was not the weather for strolls, but the wind blasted the scent of nearby creatures aside, and that was why amongst all of that rain, all of that wind, a figure emerged upon the other side of the wooden bridge. an umbrella clasped within his gloved hand and an expression one could only describe as irritated, muzan kibutsuji wandered lonesome through the nighttime. 

the place was generally more populated however the onslaught of stormy weather chased most souls into their homes, sending them scurrying away with their jackets held over their hair. but muzan was fine. the umbrella, despite the wind, was sturdy enough for him to walk about clutching it with a singular hand, the other tucked into the pocket of his jacket as he paced about. sightseeing. 

far too windy to adorn a hat however, his hair was slick and styled, pushed back leaving but the thin curls to bounce about sickly pale cheeks. his eyes, the most vibrant shade upon his person, flit about to and fro, before he moved to cross the bridge. he paused. someone else moved into the light of the lanterns, the candles’ glow illuminating their face for a moment. hers might have been a face he had seen before, but would it truly matter? she was merely another visitor within his life. a brief, passing second. he had come to disregard some faces as easily as if they were wandering thoughts upon the wind.

the light did not aid him in his observation thus he moved, tailing her as she walked beneath one of the shelters overlooking a pond. there, the rain thudded hard against the wooden roof, but the water never touched a hair upon her head. 

he did not say a word at first, merely staring at her with deep red eyes instead. the lamps occasionally revealed more of her, yet he remained unblinking, yet to break his focus upon her. but then, after a few moments, he eventually spoke. the sound as cold as nails dragging the length of a blackboard, the demon finally addressed her. “ you should not be wandering around here so late at night. especially during a storm. “  ——— @heirpins ✘

an overly eventful life means that kanao doesn’t have opportunities like this: to sit still with nowhere to be, to enjoy the scent of rain on the breeze, to have no pressure to save lives from slaughtering demons. it is a peaceful existence --- the patter of rain here do not deafen screams for once.

but kanao is used to the discord and fleeting tranquility. she strains to hear what she cannot; restlessness grows inside her stature. she sits by the light of the lanterns, awaiting some sort of cry or plea for help from the distance. a demon, someone will yell --- or her crow calling for her next mission. yet the alarm never comes.

when she stares out into the rain, drops blurring her already hazy vision, she doesn’t notice the figure at first. it takes her a few moments to register the presence of someone else, and even as she takes shelter near the pond, she does not say anything. she doesn’t need to, she thinks; he is but a traveler who will move on after a short respite.

she does not expect him to speak.

she shouldn’t talk to strangers, much less ones who traverse the night amidst a storm; it’s a common lesson that her sisters have ingrained in her over and over again. but the man only speaks of concerns. so she ignores the goosebumps that crawl along her arms --- she assumes it must be the petrichor that sends tingles --- and flips a coin. heads.

❝ the rain is heavy. i’m waiting it out. ❞

#twirls you around #throws muzan in a lake #bloodleads #✿* ( フロース. ) ━ ic. #✿* ( アベリア. ) ━ verse. isola