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liecoris · 1 year

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It was at this moment that Mukuro thought that Elizabeth Báthory was on to something。 Standing in, as well as decorated in, an amount of blood that far surpassed the amount that could be contained in two people, even after being bled completely dry。 Mukuro could feel energy swell within her, unknown if it was because of the blood that adorned her skin, or her new found ability。

This absolutely had to be a dream Mukuro assumed, after all, the other day Mukuro was just a normal human and now, Mukuro had somehow obtained the ability to kill and revive anyone, also any thing, how many times as she pleased。 Her discovery of this skill had been an accident, having unintentionally revived a bird when it passed away by hitting her window at a high speed。 Feeling sorry for the creature, Mukuro had absentmindedly wished that the bird didn’t have to die that way。 In the next moment, the bird hopped up and flew away。

At first, Mukuro pinned it as just some weird chance, maybe the bird was just dizzy from hitting the window and only had regained its senses after a short time, but when something similar happened a second time, when she was obtaining information from someone, Mukuro had the ever so brief thought of ‘ what if they died and I just was able to bring them back〜？’ Then, as soon as the person took their last breath, Mukuro had made sure that the subject was actually dead before wishing that they were brought back to life。 And before her eyes, as if time only reversed for this one individual, their wounds healed up and life was breathed back into them again。

They seemed to have some knowledge of passing, for when they awakened from their supposedly permanent slumber, there was panic in not only their appearance but their cries and shouts。 Frantically asking Mukuro what happened and why they were still alive, swearing that they died。

Testing this new theory, Mukuro wasn’t hesitant in killing the person again and then proceeding to wish them alive again and the surprise was evident on Mukuro’s face for a moment as the person she just killed again was brought back, sniveling and crying out the information Mukuro wanted to know before pleading to either be let go or just left to their endless slumber。

As Mukuro’s mind began to race with the one thing Mukuro wanted to do now that she knew that whatever she was capable of doing was an actual power, Mukuro had to quickly scribble down the information being told to her before her current thoughts pushed the new information away。

Once Mukuro got the information down, she no longer heard the person babbling and crying about either continuing to live or staying dead, Mukuro’s thoughts were totally elsewhere。 Finally, taking out a tool she rarely used, Mukuro planted one bullet in the victim’s forehead before taking her leave, making sure that she contacted who she needed to in order to dispose of the corpse。

Using her connections she’s made throughout her years in this career path, Mukuro was able to set up a meeting between her and her parents。 Under the guise that the meeting was to discuss some important business merger that would highly benefit her parent’s company。 With the meeting framed as a private place to discuss business while having a good drink, Mukuro would be the only one waiting for them when her parents would arrive。

When her parents walked in, the expressions they wore were absolutely priceless。 Expecting businessmen, her parents were met with the figure of their disowned daughter。 One who they assumed would’ve been long dead by now, having not once thought about her since her disownment。

Perhaps assuming that she was here strictly to act as a sort of secretary for the business men they were supposed to meet, they took their seats across from her。 What they didn’t know was that not only were they going to die tonight, but it was going to be multiple, multiple times。 Either until Mukuro grew bored, or she felt satisfied with their punishment。

Regardless of which decision would be made, it would be quite some time until a final decision would be made。

Which brought her to now, standing above the once broken bodies of her parents。 The quinquagenarian and sexagenarian lay in front of her, their breathing labored as they stared up at her。 Learning that by now crying and pleading with Mukuro would only fall on deaf ears。 Mukuro stared back at them, her eyes still lit up like a kid in a toy shop as she thought of what to do next。

As much as she loved the idea of being able to telepathically lift them up and slam them against the floor over, and over, and over again, she was unable to do that, so just using various tools she brought with her to kill them, and revived them, and continue this cycle until she saw fit, would have to do for now。

Even when she’d bring back her parents, the newfound skill didn’t erase the blood and gore from the area, which resulted in Mukuro still being soaked with the blood equivalent of ten deaths on her。 Would this absolutely make it hard for Mukuro to leave this place？ Probably, she would not have brought an extra set of clothing with her along with a few towels to at least mop herself up some so that she wasn’t dripping blood on her way out。

Her mother’s broken voice was what initially took Mukuro out of her thoughts, her gaze focusing on her as she allowed her mother to speak。 But what was said caused Mukuro to fly into more of a rage。

「SORRY？！ NOW you’re sorry？ Oh that’s funny, unfortunately you’re a little late for April Fools don’t you think〜？」 Drawing out the first syllable, the grip Mukuro had on the baseball bat tightened once more as she swung the bat back down with a newfound strength on her Mother’s skull for the fifth time tonight。

The bat had more than enough dents in it by now, and with this recent use, had a considerable bend in it, showing that it had gotten more than enough use tonight。 Throwing down the bat with a clang, Mukuro’s sharp gaze quickly flicked over to her father, who had tears in his eyes as he, once again, watched wife die in front of him for what seemed like the hundredth time tonight。

「Do YOU have an apology for me too？」 She asked, her father slowly shook his head, begging softly to just end his life, to just continue this sick game of hers。 With a hum, Mukuro tilted her head to the side.。。。 game, yeah this was what this was, wasn’t it？

With that new mindset in mind, with a snap of her fingers, Mukuro brought back her mother, whistled sharply to get the older lady’s attention and with a quick action rose her foot and slammed her stiletto heel into the eye socket of her father。 Her mother, who hadn’t watched her husband die before her during this night as much as he had of her, let out a wail and quickly began to plead and beg Mukuro to just stop this。

「No。 This is only the beginning of this little game〜 Now,」 as Mukuro spoke, she lifted up her foot, the heel of her shoe pulling out of the socket, gore sticking to it like some, dark viscous cherry syrup。

「What shall we play next〜？」

#»» drabble. || 🦊 — ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴅʀɪɴᴋꜱ ᴛᴏ ɴᴜᴍʙ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛᴀᴄʜᴇ.#blood cw #death cw #torture cw #»» ʙ(ᴡ)ɪᴛᴄʜ ᴏꜰ ᴍɪꜱꜰᴏʀᴛᴜɴᴇ. || 🔮 — witch!mukuro.#»» queue. || ✨ — ʟɪᴇ∙qᴜᴇᴜᴇɪꜱ.

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not-bcring · 1 year

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" Do not move, " his voice is stoic, echoing around the room at the attempt to shuffle. On second inspection, Chiaki appears to be in a hospital wing, wrapped in bandages, casts and hooked up to numerous medical devices. Should she look to the corner of the room, she'd see that family dark-haired boy staring back her. His eyes are almost emotionless, the remains of a seething storm within them. " You are still fragile. "

- ✩ 「 @endtiimes 」 ✩

「 ☆ 」 Weakly groaning, Chiaki shuffles ever-so-slightly, instinctively trying to sit up from the hospital bed. Yet at the light scolding from Hajime— ... Izuru, and the far louder complaints of her body, she grows still. Eyes fluttering open with difficulty, she squints and tries to grow accustomed to what feels like blinding light. However, as the seconds pass, it fades into something more tolerable, her mind reassuring her that she’s NOT staring into the surface of the sun. No, she’s simply in a normally-lit room... waking up after having succumbed to the darkest depths she’s ever been witness to.

If she wasn’t for the figure in the corner, she would have sworn she died...

True, it would be quite the shock for the afterlife to be reminiscent of a hospital, but it still wouldn’t be the craziest thing to have happened to her. With the circumstances that led to her almost-death, it’s hard to imagine much being able to top that. Although, this comes pretty close. Reluctant as Chiaki is to admit it, wishing that she could have more faith in the first friend she made. But as much as she wanted to believe that Hajime was still in there, how much she KNEW he was... there’s no denying the soft exhale of surprise, wide-eyes transfixed upon the man speaking to her before she quietly says—

❝ ... Hello, Hinata-kun. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#anime spoilers #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ; ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Chiaki IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ❞ ◌ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Chiaki 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ 2.5 ❞ ¦ 「 Izuru 」#endtiimes #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏʙᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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eviesaurusrex · 1 year

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ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ | ʙ. ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ

Bucky Barnes x Rogers!Reader

summary: It’s not his first birthday after Hydra, but the first birthday he thinks he actually wants to celebrate—only because of YN.

word count: 1.5k

warnings: nothing, fluff, Bucky is a simp for his girl, not entirely proofread

author’s note: It’s Bucky’s birthday!! And sorry for being a simp for the “my best friend's younger sister is my girlfriend” trope.

***

Within a blink of an eye, the woman turned off the vibrating alarm on her watch in order to not disturb the finally deeply sleeping super soldier who rested on his side and had the pair of strong arms he called his own tightly wrapped around her still tired body. Her eyes slowly and tenderly wandered over his relaxed face, void of any haunting thought that might linger somewhere in his mind and entirely at ease with the world—for now. Only a few hours earlier, she had struggled to even get him to lay down and at least try to rest a bit after another nightmare had shaken his entire soul only a few short moments after he had fallen asleep for the first time that night.

Soft knuckles gently, barely palpable, caressed his cheek, already covered in new dark stubbles before even softer lips pressed a featherlight kiss to the corner of his perfect mouth with those tender lips of his. A low chuckle escaped the woman at the sight of them morphing into a half-smile, and she desperately hoped that the man dreamed of something far more pleasant than his mind tended to grant him.

“Sweet dreams, my love,” she whispered, even too quietly for her own enhanced hearing, trying everything not to wake him in the middle of the night and detangling her body out of his embrace. With a soft smile, YN put the pillow she always rested on closer to his face and sneaked around the bed in their shared room in order to light the candle Bucky was stubbornly convinced it smelled exactly like her. She wasn’t sure about that, but whatever helped him to have a few uninterrupted hours of sleep, she did—even if it meant raiding every single Bath & Body Works in the Tri-State area.

Yes, she even sacrificed herself and went to those in New Jersey.

Before the woman sneaked out of their bedroom, covered in sweatpants and one of Bucky’s Henley shirts, she couldn’t stop herself from bending over his sleeping form once more and pressing a gentle kiss to his soft dark strand. Then, she was able to leave him behind for now, pressing herself in between the thin crack between the door and doorframe she had created, so the always brightly lit hallways wouldn’t disturb the soldier in his much-needed rest.

Humming, YN walked down the hallways, took the elevator, and went straight into the grand, perfectly stocked, and just as well equipped kitchen of the compound with a mission in mind. She knew that Bucky hadn’t had a proper birthday since their time way back—she remembered the last one as if it had been only yesterday, even though over seventy years had passed since that day. Since his return to his self and since his rehabilitation, no one seemed to think of his birthday as a day he wanted to celebrate with others—Bucky, at the very least. But since a few weeks or even months, the soldier had dropped hints that he might be ready to do this again, to celebrate the day he was born.

Maybe it was partly her doing, but YN wasn’t as self-consumed to assume anything like that, so she only had gathered the clues and hints her boyfriend had scattered casually throughout their conversations and came up with a plan. That was why the younger Rogers was up on her feet at four in the morning and prepared the recipe for the cake she intended to bake for the man upstairs before everyone would woke up one after the other. And because he knew his habits better than anyone else—well, except for her brother, maybe—she had to be as early and fast as possible to get everything done before his morning run with Steve.

But YN ran out of luck after the three cake bases had wandered into the oven, and she had turned to the preparations of the cream filling.

Her ears would’ve usually picked up to the soft padding of feet on the floor, but her mind visited deep and hidden places while every step of getting the cream perfect was utter instinct and didn’t need the assistance of her thoughts. So Bucky was able to sneak up onto her and stopped at the entrance to the kitchen, watching his girl do what she always had loved the most, observing her distant eyes and soft expression ingrained in her pretty face. He could feel his heart flutter at the absolutely domestic sight in front of him, and the former Winter Soldier knew that he finally had found his home, the place where he wanted to stay and with whom he wanted to grow old.

It was her doing why he wanted to try and celebrate his birthday again. The past still belonged to him, yes, but YN made every single day brighter than the one before and made him finally realize and see that his past wasn’t his fault—just as her past wasn’t her fault either. They probably had helped each other better as every single of their mandatory therapy sessions combined. The shadows and memories still haunted him, maybe worse than hers, but it had gotten better, especially after he had found the courage to ask her for a shared bedroom.

A smile tucked at his lips as Bucky slowly walked over to the humming woman and gently wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her lovingly against his chest, and chuckled deeply at the surprised gasp. “Someday, you’ll be my death.” A soft laugh followed YN’s words, and the soldier bent down to press a kiss to her right shoulder, inhaling her soothing scent mixed with his own and the aroma of the cake baking in his back. “It’s not my fault that your mind is always so occupied, doll,” he grinned and wrapped his arms tighter around her middle, pulling her even closer to him before pressing a kiss to her neck and one to her cheek.

“Good morning,” Bucky greeted her in a soft mumble as he always did and let her turn in his arms after she had stirred the filling one last time. Her smile was as radiant as the rising sun outside the window, and Bucky felt lovestruck again—just as the day all those decades ago when he finally realized that he had fallen in love with his best friend’s younger sister, who always had been off-limits for him. His heart ached so beautifully as she pulled him down towards her and pressed their lips together in the softest of kisses, her fingers carding through his hair, bringing him comfort to an extent he had never thought possible again.

“Happy Birthday, love.” It was only a whisper against his lips, but he could hear every single emotion swimming in those three words, making his heart race and jump in joy and love. A smile widened on his face and made him kiss YN another time. “Thank you, darlin’,” he whispered back and let her cradle his face in the palms of her hands, chuckling softly as kisses rained down on his skin. “This was supposed to be a surprise, but hey, I knew I couldn’t be so lucky. I didn’t wake you, though, right?” Bucky shook his head and kissed her forehead gently. “Jus’ woke up because you weren’t there anymore. And stop trying to fool my sleepy head with that pillow you always push closer to me. It’s not even close competition to how it feels when I hold your body, doll. But… thanks for lighting up the candle.”

These candles were a lifesaver for him every time YN had to go on a mission to which he wasn’t assigned. It helped to push back the dreams and loneliness, the dark thoughts and memories. Sometimes he even managed to go through a two-week-long mission of hers without a single nightmare—but a vanishing stock of candles was the result of it. At least it always meant hour-long dates in the city to restock his supply of YN-candles, as he liked to call them, and uninterrupted time with his girl.

YN smiled up at him and tenderly stroked through his hair and over his cheek. “Of course, love. Nothing to thank me for. And I will try to keep the pillow-thing in mind.” They both grinned before the timer at the oven alarmed them both. “Wanna watch while I finish up your cake? But you have to promise me to act all surprised and flattered later on.” YN threatened him with the spatula covered in cream and made him laugh, just as she had hoped. “Only when I get to try this masterpiece right now.” With that, she playfully rolled her eyes and dipped a finger into the filling to let him taste his favorite flavors. And Bucky was eager to suck every bit off her finger while holding eye contact, which made her all flustered and blushing in the middle of the kitchen. “Perfect,” he huskily whispered and leaned down for a kiss, but YN pressed a hand against his chest and only pecked his cheek innocently. “I know what you’re trying, Barnes, and this will only happen tonight. Not now, not between presents, not before or after blowing out the candles and cutting the cake. Tonight.”

The Barnes laughed wholeheartedly and still pulled her close to his side, pressing a tender kiss to her sweet lips. “Whatever you command, Agent Rogers.”

***

Only something short (and shitty) for my beloved birthday boy (I’m so sorry for this mess of words up there). I really need to continue the stuff for him I still have sitting around because I miss some Bucky magic on my blog. As usual: Comments, reblogs, and likes are much appreciated!

Taglist: @poor-unfortunate-soul-85 @seasonofthenerd @onecrazydirectioner @meeksmusic83 @lastwandastan @hopefulinlove

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vindictiae · 22 days

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Hey. Up here. Watching from above laying on his front, legs gently kicking air behind him.

"Been a hot minute since that last time I've seen you. Got time for a few bar runs?"

Rob 'em or drink at 'em? Either way, I'm in.

#ᴅ ᴇ ᴀ ᴅ ʟ ᴏ ᴄ ᴋ » [ can't silence what's been spoken / i'm mad as hell. not broken ]#ʙ ʟ ᴀ ᴢ ᴇ » [ a comet blazing /twisting and crazing - a harbinger in his own right

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bearnumberthree · 2 years

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＂Found a hat for the party. Just don’t ask where I got it. I don’t think you’re ready for that information yet.＂

#﹤ ɪ ᴄ ﹥#﹤ ʏ ᴏ ᴜ ʀ ʙ ᴏ s s ᴍ ʀ. ɢ ʀ ɪ ᴢ ᴢ ﹥#﹤ ᴇ ᴠ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ s ﹥#splatoween2022 #splatoon 3 spoilers #spoilers

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warncdandwiles · 2 years

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There appear to be different kinds of ghosts - the ones that look more ‘human’ or closer to the person’s living form, and others like the Boos who are definite ‘types’. I like to think that when some of them, such as Boohoo, are feeling particularly reminiscent, they can morph back into a human-like form. For Boohoo, this is often unintentional and she won’t even know its happened; it’s over in a blink. Those who glimpse that form will see someone who died young, with bare feet, a pretty, puffed dress - but a face completely obscured.

#Head Count On The Canon;; Wily Headcanons #ahh more titbits from stories I'll never write #there's so much lore in my brain about the boo trio you have no idea #ᴡᴇᴇᴘɪɴɢ ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ --- ʙ ᴏ ᴏ ʜ ᴏ ᴏ 👻

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charliesgoodboy · 3 months

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2010-2011. ʙ. ᴋᴀᴜʟɪᴛᴢ

#🖇️𝓀𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑒

ᴀɴᴅ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ,💎

𝘪’𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶

𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬. . .🌙

𝓼𝔂𝓹𝓷𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓼: you love eye contact, need it even. growing up you were told eye contact is respectful. it applies to bill as well.

𝐓𝐖: mirror sex, degration, submissive bill(still topping), reader being snappy(and bossy), overstimulation(cumming too much), smeared make up, begging, size kink(?), unprotected sex(i think)

# bill kaulitz , who was aware he could talk up a storm. once you got him started he wouldn't stop unless you gave a hint and even then you'd need to give a few more hints for him to get it. but for you? you were perfectly fine with it. as long as he was looking at you of course. at times people would say it was intimidating the way you would stare right at them, making them not want to speak with you but what could you do about it? it was respectful to the person who was speaking, and if they weren't looking back at you what was the point of the conversation. yet regardless it was fine with bill as long as he could keep talking.

# bill kaulitz , who would understand the nervousness people would get when speaking with you. you wouldn't get 'mad' or anything of the sort yet he felt like a child when you would re direct him if he wasn't paying attention if you were speaking. "and then..bill," "hm?" "look at me when i'm speaking to you." your eye brows would raise as you'd give him a look. the conversation really was interesting he just got a little distracted. his mouth would feel dry with the way you'd look at him. at times you would stop talking completely and just stare— almost glare if you weren't having their eyes on you. it wasn't narsisitic, just respectful.

# bill kaulitz , loved teasing you at times. purposely not looking you in the eyes, loving to watch you sometimes move positions to have his eyes on yours. or when your hand would lightly squeeze his chin turning his head back to maintain the contact, and the way you would simply keep talking just gave him a lustful feeling he couldn't control even if he wanted to. it was as if you would chase it.

# bill kaulitz , who would let out breathy moans next to your ear with each thrust on feeling the warm insides of you. his eyes catching yours and the way they had been filled with pleasure, the way they would roll back, or look at his movements mirroring through the glass like object. he would get all shy and nervous, leaning his head down into your shoulder while moaning your name over and over again. the intoxicating feeling of your body would have had him on his knees for you if he wasn't in this position.

# bill kaulitz , whose make up would be all smeared as the dark eye liner would trickle down his face, he wouldn't stop with the "oh god, please i can't look up right now— 's too much.." and the way he would look in defeat..you just had to see it, had to see how pathetic he looked it was all the more arousing and erotic for you.

# bill kaulitz , who would whine at the feeling of you making him cum again. you just felt too good and you wouldn't keep him from doing so..as long as he looked at you. your little rule wouldn't slide with him at all, and each time he would usher the words— 'i'm cumming..gonna cum fuck..' regarding you barely being able to form words you'd tell him to look at you through the mirror as he did it. the way his face would contort into more pleasure as his bottom lip would catch between his teeth while his eyes would roll back, a few more thrusts being given as he felt himself release himself inside of you. he loved looking at your face as well, your thighs trembling as your body shuddered as you'd have to be held up a bit by bill as your body felt like falling asleep from the feeling. he could get used to this little 'look at me' thing, of yours.

#tagging: @tokio-motel @evieskiesss @iheartheoustiders (also please let me know if you wanna be on this tag list as i am updating it)

remember: most of my fics are now gn. if you would like a afab/female fic or amab/male fic or any type of request please dm me due to my inbox malfunction.

#tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel smut #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz tokio hotel #gustav tokio hotel #bill kaulitz fic #georg listing

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bluesdeexus · 4 months

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𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒔 🧺

𝗮 𝗯 𝗰 𝗱 𝗲 𝗳 𝗴 𝗵 𝗶 𝗷 𝗸 𝗹 𝗺 𝗻 𝗼 𝗽 𝗾 𝗿 𝘀 𝘁 𝘂 𝘃 𝘄 𝘅 𝘆 𝘇

𝘢 𝘣 𝘤 𝘥 𝘦 𝘧 𝘨 𝘩 𝘪 𝘫 𝘬 𝘭 𝘮 𝘯 𝘰 𝘱 𝘲 𝘳 𝘴 𝘵 𝘶 𝘷 𝘸 𝘹 𝘺 𝘻

𝒂 𝒃 𝒄 𝒅 𝒆 𝒇 𝒈 𝒉 𝒊 𝒋 𝒌 𝒍 𝒎 𝒏 𝒐 𝒑 𝒒 𝒓 𝒔 𝒕 𝒖 𝒗 𝒘 𝒙 𝒚 𝒛

𝐚 𝐛 𝐜 𝐝 𝐞 𝐟 𝐠 𝐡 𝐢 𝐣 𝐤 𝐥 𝐦 𝐧 𝐨 𝐩 𝐪 𝐫 𝐬 𝐭 𝐮 𝐯 𝐰 𝐱 𝐲 𝐳

ᴀ ʙ ᴄ ᴅ ᴇ ғ ɢ ʜ ɪ ᴊ ᴋ ʟ ᴍ ɴ ᴏ ᴘ ǫ ʀ s ᴛ ᴜ ᴠ ᴡ x ʏ ᴢ

𝓪 𝓫 𝓬 𝓭 𝓮 𝓯 𝓰 𝓱 𝓲 𝓳 𝓴 𝓵 𝓶 𝓷 𝓸 𝓹 𝓺 𝓻 𝓼 𝓽 𝓾 𝓿 𝔀 𝔁 𝔂 𝔃

𝚊 𝚋 𝚌 𝚍 𝚎 𝚏 𝚐 𝚑 𝚒 𝚓 𝚔 𝚕 𝚖 𝚗 𝚘 𝚙 𝚚 𝚛 𝚜 𝚝 𝚞 𝚟 𝚠 𝚡 𝚢 𝚣

a̲ ̲b̲ ̲c̲ ̲d̲ ̲e̲ ̲f̲ ̲g̲ ̲h̲ ̲i̲ ̲j̲ ̲k̲ ̲l̲ ̲m̲ ̲n̲ ̲o̲ ̲p̲ ̲q̲ ̲r̲ ̲s̲ ̲t̲ ̲u̲ ̲v̲ ̲w̲ ̲x̲ ̲y̲ ̲z̲ ̲

𝖆 𝖇 𝖈 𝖉 𝖊 𝖋 𝖌 𝖍 𝖎 𝖏 𝖐 𝖑 𝖒 𝖓 𝖔 𝖕 𝖖 𝖗 𝖘 𝖙 𝖚 𝖛 𝖜 𝖝 𝖞 𝖟

Ib @/fluzior on Instagram

#fontes #kpop rp #aesthetic bios #rpg ideas #rpg icons #bios #rpg help #rpg #rpg ad

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twiincast · 2 years

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" Now that's a face plate for sore optics. Still got the best mix to kick aft to this side of the Twin Nebulon?"

He idly shrugs at that, kicking back and propping his pedes up onto a part of the console that doesn't contain all the important buttons.

"I might have."

#ʙ ʟ ᴀ ꜱ ᴛ ᴇ ʀ » [ ain't a mech alive that can match my flow ] « voice of the resistance #S P R I N G E R » [ bruisin' and cruisin. ] « voice of violence

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not-bcring · 2 years

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❝ You... I know you, ❞ the words are spoken without life and yet there's the faintest hint of surprise as he stares down at her. The way she crawls, amidst her pain, all with the inclination to help... why? He doesn't understand it. He couldn't predict it. Why put yourself through so much pain for someone else? And in spite of the thoughts that Hope's Peak repressed, his mind rattles... Why... why would you do that for me...? It takes him a moment to realize he's crying. ❝ Chiaki Nanami... do you know who I am...? ❞

- ✩ 「 @endtiimes 」 ✩

「 ☆ 」 Everything hurts…

Her legs drag uselessly behind her, each movement sending a fresh wave of agony through her form. Drenched in blood, warm and sickly-smelling, it offends her senses. Life leaking out of her, scalding her chilled body with each streak of red, suffocating her in the stench of death-to-come. Yet her arms persist, mangled limbs shakily bringing herself forward until they simply can’t anymore. Trembling as she puts weight upon them, muscles screaming and pleading for her to stop— just STOP… please, please stop…

It HURTS.

Chiaki grits her teeth, cutting her lip but not registering the pain. What is a mere drop added to the ocean drowning her? Raising a few inches, a few breaths of hope is allowed to fill her, tears overflowing in waves of despair at how fleeting she knows it all is. She can’t— She can’t… Please forgive her. She’s so tired. Collapsing, the soft splash of hitting the blood pooling around her seems to echo mercilessly. Each movement further smearing the substance on the floor, her clothes, her hands, her face… Cheek rests on the cold ground, lips slightly agape as she breathes as best she can. But it’s not enough though. The air drifting into her lungs never feels like enough. She’s not going to be enough.

Chest hitches, Chiaki’s throat bobbing as she chokes back a broken sob. No… No. She can’t give up. He’s right here. He’s right in front of her. Together- they’ll… they HAVE to be okay.

They’ll get out of here. They’ll find her classmates. They’ll leave this horrible place together. Hajime— Izuru… Whoever he is now or decides he wants to be, will meet her friends. Just like she’s wanted him to for so long now. No more waiting. No more hesitation. No more. Whimpering where she lays, fists push against the ground, Chiaki now openly crying as she tries to lift her shaking body once more. He knows her. He knows her, he knows her, he knows her…. He’s in there. He’s still here. She’ll help him. Save him.

Save them all.

❝ Y-Yes…. ❞ She quietly replies, the upper half of her body precariously held up by her forearms. Trembling as if she were freezing to death rather than bleeding out, tense form strains to keep her upright— yet the smile she gives him, weak and pained as it may be, doesn’t falter. Glossy gaze lifting to look at Izuru Kamukura, tears stream down her face, ❝ You’re my friend… ❞

❝ No matter who you are now, or- or how much you remember me… You’ll never stop being my friend. And- I’ll… I’ll never stop wa-anting— ❞ Struggling, she resumes trying to lift herself, ❝ —to… to play games with you…. ❞ Crying out, her arms give away, the fall— however small —knocking the air from her lungs. Gasping for breath, the shaky rise and fall of her chest grows sporadic, panic and pain overwhelming her at the shock. Vision blurred by tears, she can barely make out the others form.

No… She’s not ready to go.

She’s not ready.

Just one more game. 「 ☆ 」

#anime spoilers #(( ..... *shoves* ))#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ; ᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Chiaki IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜᴘ ᴜᴘ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ❞ ◌ ᴇxᴛʀᴀ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Chiaki 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴏᴘᴇ 2.5 ❞ ¦ 「 Izuru 」#endtiimes #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏʙᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ꜰʀᴀɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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