mreowsu

[mreowsu]

snoopuru

[mreowsu]

fat caterpillar nagi camping outside blue lock oh my god my heart is shattering………

[mreowsu]

my take on the itoshi bros in a royal!au inspired from this (check it out. it's bomb)

A messenger from the western provinces arrived early that cold, spring morning. Boots caked in mud, face pale beneath the royal insignia pinned to his chest. You had heard the commotion from the lower hall. You had barely returned from your morning tasks when you were summoned and by the time you arrived to the east solar, the palace already seemed to hold its breath.

“You will take this to the princes,” the steward said curtly, pressing the sealed envelope into your hands. “See that it reaches them immediately. And say nothing.”

“Yes, my lord.” you murmured, fingers closing around the thick vellum.

You weren’t to know its contents, of course. But the seal pressed into the wax—the unmistakable crest of another kingdom's—told you enough. No idle letter crossed such distance, not under such haste.

You turned away swiftly, and made your way through the familiar halls. You were no stranger to the royal wing. Once, you had run these very corridors barefoot with two young boys destined to rule—playmates before you were ever the royals’ attendant. You were no longer the child who dared tug at a prince’s sleeve, nor the girl who laughed unbidden in royal gardens. Those days had passed now, dulled by years and duty. Now, you were placed in their lives with your head in honed respect and steady hands. You bore no illusions about your station anymore.

But it was strange—the ache in your throat as you neared the solar where they spent the morning.

Two guards stood posted outside the doors. They recognized you instantly and allowed you through without question.

Inside, the room was quiet and warm with firelight. Several chamber-servants were at work; one tending the hearth, another arranging books upon a side table, and two more setting out a light meal.

Prince Sae stood by the tall windows, sea-glass eyes fixed upon the distant woods beyond the walls. Prince Rin sat half-curled in a velvet chair, a book open and forgotten upon his knee. They looked up as you entered with your head bowed.

You crossed the floor with careful steps, and bent before them, offering the letter with outstretched hands.

“A courier arrived this morning, Your Highnesses. The steward bade me bring this to you directly.” You spoke clearly, keeping your gaze low.

Sae turned from the window at once. His eyes fell to the seal, a flicker of sharp recognition there and then up again, gaze cutting through the room.

“Out.” He commanded coldly, voice sharp as a blade.

Without hesitation, all of the chamber-servants gathered their things and hurriedly left, casting uncertain glances as they passed you.

“You, remain. You we're already part of this room.” Sae added—softer, but no less commanding—to you.

Your breath caught.

“Yes, my prince.” You whispered, dipping your head again. You stepped aside, as the great doors closed behind the others with a heavy thud.

Sae took the envelope without a word. You caught the faint narrowing of his eyes as they fell upon the crest. He breaks the seal with one smooth motion, unfolded the vellum, and scanned its contents with cold, lidded eyes. His gaze moved swiftly across the page—once, twice—then lowered the parchment with care.

“It is as expected,” he said flatly.

Rin rose and came to his side, reading over his shoulder. You saw the shift in his stance, the darkening of his gaze. His gaze flicked toward you, softer—as if he read the question in your lowered eyes, though you dared not ask it aloud.

“They have pressed the match.” Rin thought aloud, voice low. Tense.

Sae only nodded, folding the letter as if the act in doing so would contain the consequences within. “A strategic alliance.” Sae replied, words clipped.

You busied yourself with a forgotten tea set the chamber-servants have left behind from Sae’s jurisdiction.

“Father will have to agree,” Rin muttered, pacing now. “He deems it politically expedient.”

You kept your gaze on your work, carefully pouring, setting each cup down in perfect silence.

You had known this day would come. Of course you had.

They were princes. You were a servant. The gap between you had widened with every passing year—with every new title, every coronation, every court appearance.

And yet.

And yet they still looked at you sometimes like they had when you were children, racing through the garden, climbing trees you were scolded for later. They still spoke to you sometimes as if they had forgotten what your address was meant to be.

You weren’t foolish enough to think it could mean anything. But you weren’t strong enough not to feel the ache of it, either.

You stare at the stone floor, throat tight.

“Speak,” Sae said suddenly. Tone sharper now. “I see your thoughts stirring. Voice them.”

Your hands stilled. Rin, mid-step amidst his pacing, stopped aswell. Slowly, you set the porcelain cups upon the tray. Careful. Careful.

You smoothed your skirt with trembling fingers. When you lifted your head, two pairs of piercing teal eyes watched you now.

“I—” You faltered, breath shallow. Then steadied yourself. You then lifted your gaze with caution. “It is not my place, my prince.” You answered softly.

“You were not silent when we were children,” Rin said softly. “Say it.”

Your throat tightened. That was before, you wanted to say. Before I knew better. Before we were grown, and the world was watching.

But what came out was only, “You are to be wed, my prince. I only wish you happiness. Nothing more.”

Sae’s expression was inscrutable. “Do you.”

You kept your eyes lowered.

Sae studied you then, with a gaze carved from winter glass, cold and unflinching. A faint, bitter curve touched his mouth.

Without a word, he turned toward the hearth, the letter remained clenched in one white-knuckled grasp, folded neatly, as if to leave it open would be granting it breath it did not deserve.

And with a flick of his wrist—unceremonious, resolute—he fed it to the fire.

The flames leapt to meet it, as if starved. They coiled around the vellum with greedy tongues, tasting the ink and royal wax alike. The seal of that foreign crest—promise of a bethrothal that would never be—curled and blackened beneath their hunger.

The fire devoured it as Sae would any such notion—without hesitation, without mercy. No alliance forged by ink and duty would bind him. No crown would dictate the shape of his future.

You could only watch in silence as the letter crisped and curled upon itself, its words lost to smoke. Beside you, Rin did not move; he, too, would have cast it into the flames without pause.

Ash drifted upward like the bones of a dead thing. And when at last Sae turned from the hearth, the last of the embers still glowing faint and defiant, it seemed the matter was settled. He crossed the chamber toward you—each step echoing in the stillness.

You remained rooted, though your pulse quickened.

He passed close, so near you could scarce breathe—and spoke in a voice so low and quiet, brushing your ear like a blade sheathed in velvet.

“You always did lie poorly.”

Then he turned, the folds of his cloak whispering against the floor as he departed. Leaving only the fading scent of smoke and the brittle hush that followed ruin.

Rin remained by your side a moment longer. When he looked at you, it was not as prince to servant, but as something far older, far sadder.

“Stay close,” he said softly, a hand brushing your sleeve in passing. “You may yet be needed.”

He glanced toward the great doors. “The council summons us soon.”

With that, he follows Sae through the grand wooden doors, their echoing shut leaving you alone beneath the vast arches of the chamber. The faint scent of burnt parchment hung in the air, mingling with the clean promise of rain. The untouched tea sat cooling on the table, forgotten. And though your hands were steady, it was your heart that trembled.

[mreowsu]

Sketch of Kanzaki Kaoru from phantom busters

[mreowsu]

rin meditating on his two biggest opps and immediately going feral dog boyfailure mode when hit is so funny. never change my favourite loser.

[mreowsu]

Eid Mubarak everyone! May Allah grant all our duas. ♡

[mreowsu]

“for soccer” LMFAO

[mreowsu]

I saw the original and immediately thought of them,

It was too perfect, so if someone’s done this already I am simply unaware

[mreowsu]

this frame is so fucking funny. ego and anri really watching homotrons 3000 on SIXTEEN MONITORS

[mreowsu]

The rich guy. The girl guy. The lazy guy. The Man Shine City guys 🎀🚌

[mreowsu]

how did you lose an entire horse

[mreowsu]

bro is a freak

[mreowsu]

my take on the itoshi bros in a royal!au inspired from this (check it out. it's bomb)

A messenger from the western provinces arrived early that cold, spring morning. Boots caked in mud, face pale beneath the royal insignia pinned to his chest. You had heard the commotion from the lower hall. You had barely returned from your morning tasks when you were summoned and by the time you arrived to the east solar, the palace already seemed to hold its breath.

“You will take this to the princes,” the steward said curtly, pressing the sealed envelope into your hands. “See that it reaches them immediately. And say nothing.”

“Yes, my lord.” you murmured, fingers closing around the thick vellum.

You weren’t to know its contents, of course. But the seal pressed into the wax—the unmistakable crest of another kingdom's—told you enough. No idle letter crossed such distance, not under such haste.

You turned away swiftly, and made your way through the familiar halls. You were no stranger to the royal wing. Once, you had run these very corridors barefoot with two young boys destined to rule—playmates before you were ever the royals’ attendant. You were no longer the child who dared tug at a prince’s sleeve, nor the girl who laughed unbidden in royal gardens. Those days had passed now, dulled by years and duty. Now, you were placed in their lives with your head in honed respect and steady hands. You bore no illusions about your station anymore.

But it was strange—the ache in your throat as you neared the solar where they spent the morning.

Two guards stood posted outside the doors. They recognized you instantly and allowed you through without question.

Inside, the room was quiet and warm with firelight. Several chamber-servants were at work; one tending the hearth, another arranging books upon a side table, and two more setting out a light meal.

Prince Sae stood by the tall windows, sea-glass eyes fixed upon the distant woods beyond the walls. Prince Rin sat half-curled in a velvet chair, a book open and forgotten upon his knee. They looked up as you entered with your head bowed.

You crossed the floor with careful steps, and bent before them, offering the letter with outstretched hands.

“A courier arrived this morning, Your Highnesses. The steward bade me bring this to you directly.” You spoke clearly, keeping your gaze low.

Sae turned from the window at once. His eyes fell to the seal, a flicker of sharp recognition there and then up again, gaze cutting through the room.

“Out.” He commanded coldly, voice sharp as a blade.

Without hesitation, all of the chamber-servants gathered their things and hurriedly left, casting uncertain glances as they passed you.

“You, remain. You we're already part of this room.” Sae added—softer, but no less commanding—to you.

Your breath caught.

“Yes, my prince.” You whispered, dipping your head again. You stepped aside, as the great doors closed behind the others with a heavy thud.

Sae took the envelope without a word. You caught the faint narrowing of his eyes as they fell upon the crest. He breaks the seal with one smooth motion, unfolded the vellum, and scanned its contents with cold, lidded eyes. His gaze moved swiftly across the page—once, twice—then lowered the parchment with care.

“It is as expected,” he said flatly.

Rin rose and came to his side, reading over his shoulder. You saw the shift in his stance, the darkening of his gaze. His gaze flicked toward you, softer—as if he read the question in your lowered eyes, though you dared not ask it aloud.

“They have pressed the match.” Rin thought aloud, voice low. Tense.

Sae only nodded, folding the letter as if the act in doing so would contain the consequences within. “A strategic alliance.” Sae replied, words clipped.

You busied yourself with a forgotten tea set the chamber-servants have left behind from Sae’s jurisdiction.

“Father will have to agree,” Rin muttered, pacing now. “He deems it politically expedient.”

You kept your gaze on your work, carefully pouring, setting each cup down in perfect silence.

You had known this day would come. Of course you had.

They were princes. You were a servant. The gap between you had widened with every passing year—with every new title, every coronation, every court appearance.

And yet.

And yet they still looked at you sometimes like they had when you were children, racing through the garden, climbing trees you were scolded for later. They still spoke to you sometimes as if they had forgotten what your address was meant to be.

You weren’t foolish enough to think it could mean anything. But you weren’t strong enough not to feel the ache of it, either.

You stare at the stone floor, throat tight.

“Speak,” Sae said suddenly. Tone sharper now. “I see your thoughts stirring. Voice them.”

Your hands stilled. Rin, mid-step amidst his pacing, stopped aswell. Slowly, you set the porcelain cups upon the tray. Careful. Careful.

You smoothed your skirt with trembling fingers. When you lifted your head, two pairs of piercing teal eyes watched you now.

“I—” You faltered, breath shallow. Then steadied yourself. You then lifted your gaze with caution. “It is not my place, my prince.” You answered softly.

“You were not silent when we were children,” Rin said softly. “Say it.”

Your throat tightened. That was before, you wanted to say. Before I knew better. Before we were grown, and the world was watching.

But what came out was only, “You are to be wed, my prince. I only wish you happiness. Nothing more.”

Sae’s expression was inscrutable. “Do you.”

You kept your eyes lowered.

Sae studied you then, with a gaze carved from winter glass, cold and unflinching. A faint, bitter curve touched his mouth.

Without a word, he turned toward the hearth, the letter remained clenched in one white-knuckled grasp, folded neatly, as if to leave it open would be granting it breath it did not deserve.

And with a flick of his wrist—unceremonious, resolute—he fed it to the fire.

The flames leapt to meet it, as if starved. They coiled around the vellum with greedy tongues, tasting the ink and royal wax alike. The seal of that foreign crest—promise of a bethrothal that would never be—curled and blackened beneath their hunger.

The fire devoured it as Sae would any such notion—without hesitation, without mercy. No alliance forged by ink and duty would bind him. No crown would dictate the shape of his future.

You could only watch in silence as the letter crisped and curled upon itself, its words lost to smoke. Beside you, Rin did not move; he, too, would have cast it into the flames without pause.

Ash drifted upward like the bones of a dead thing. And when at last Sae turned from the hearth, the last of the embers still glowing faint and defiant, it seemed the matter was settled. He crossed the chamber toward you—each step echoing in the stillness.

You remained rooted, though your pulse quickened.

He passed close, so near you could scarce breathe—and spoke in a voice so low and quiet, brushing your ear like a blade sheathed in velvet.

“You always did lie poorly.”

Then he turned, the folds of his cloak whispering against the floor as he departed. Leaving only the fading scent of smoke and the brittle hush that followed ruin.

Rin remained by your side a moment longer. When he looked at you, it was not as prince to servant, but as something far older, far sadder.

“Stay close,” he said softly, a hand brushing your sleeve in passing. “You may yet be needed.”

He glanced toward the great doors. “The council summons us soon.”

With that, he follows Sae through the grand wooden doors, their echoing shut leaving you alone beneath the vast arches of the chamber. The faint scent of burnt parchment hung in the air, mingling with the clean promise of rain. The untouched tea sat cooling on the table, forgotten. And though your hands were steady, it was your heart that trembled.

[mreowsu]

i think of u everytime these three lil shits pop up @cheralith

ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵒⁿᵉˢ

[mreowsu]

well you see. actually. (deletes post)

[mreowsu]

2025.02.18

[mreowsu]

Happy Rin

Panicked Sae