#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」

[not-bcring]

Starter For  -  ✩   「   @magic-clown​​​   」   ✩

「 ☆ 」 Red flows into the river... Slow streaks of scarlet, slipping away to join the gentle rapids. Dainty, diligent, dexterous hands submerged in the cool water; they raise to rub pale arms. Blood both old and new— dried and dark or vibrantly fresh —scrubbed away to trickle into nonexistence. Dripping off the small figure kneeling by, speckling the river like the pinpricks of starlight reflecting above. Gazing into the calm water, Rio mourns the loss of their... extra embellishment.

But blood is hardly something for one to wear in public; lest they wish to draw unwanted attention. Adept as the former-assassin current lost-soul ( or as close as they can get, their chest lacking breath let alone a beating heart ) is at taking care of those who wish to cause them trouble, it's still a burdensome task. It's no fun to look into a lifeless gaze unless they were able to witness the MOMENT the light truly left it. Hasty acts of ❛ necessity ❜ lack the care they prefer to put into their work.

Tonight had been enjoyable... but not enough to ease the newfound ache in their chest as much as they had hoped. It really is a bother, feeling these new emotions. Regret, disgust, shame— yet none of it strong enough to overpower the ever-present anger. The jealously HATRED, now aimed inwardly just as much as at those around them. Lost and confused, all Rio can do is try to distract. Maybe later, they'll know what to do now that they've been proven to be nothing.

But for now? They slowly stand up, still looking down into the water. Expression deceptively blank, yet eyes holding a sharp studiousness— reflecting the night sky with uncanny clarity, as if polished glass —they suddenly pipe up into the crisp air to the strange figure in the distance, the river playing no favorites when it comes to what it reflects, ❝ I know you're back there. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#(( *shoves over a lad* )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴇɴꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴘʀᴏʙᴀʙʟʏ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ; ᴄᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜᴘ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ꜱᴏ ʀᴇꜰʀᴇꜱʜɪɴɢ ❞ ¦ 「 Rio IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜰᴇᴇʟꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ’ᴍ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴀʀꜱ; ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇᴀᴠᴇɴ ɪꜱɴ’ᴛ ʟᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ❞ ◌ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ¦ 「 Rio 」 #magic-clown #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴇᴄʜɴɪQᴜᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴏᴛᴇꜱQᴜᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Nikolai 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「   @nickelsdrocs​   」   ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Ayumu doesn’t have to look at Emi to know she’s not looking... Not that he’s offended. He didn’t record the scenery for her. He didn’t record it for anyone but himself. Still, he’ll likely end up using it in a video; it’s good footage, it could make good b-roll. But right now, its purpose is to help calm him down. Like Emi with her arrows. Not that he’s going to tell Emi that. It’d only get her worked up... and it’s not like anything actually happened. Nothing new, anyway. Simply past memories coming back, as they often tend to do.

It’s not fair... Having to live with what happened. And yet, at the same time- it’s also incredibly fair. Living with the consequences of his choice. But is it really a choice when you’re that young? When the ONE person who was supposed to protect you, is the same person offering you up like a lamb to the slaughter? Lazily scanning his footage, Ayumu shoves those thoughts aside along with the memories. Neither of them will do him any good... and he’d rather not deal with them at all right now. Clicking rewind, he looks at the flowers again.

❝  Yeah, but that’s why I like them...  ❞  Ayumu leisurely replies, not outwardly giving away the internal argument.  ❝  It’s safest when you’re lonely.  ❞  He mutters, not elaborating any further. Where Emi saw a cruel, uncaring world, Ayumu saw a sanctuary. Finding a bittersweet certainty in that nothing would happen if there were no one to do it. People always find ways to hurt. And other people seldom care when they do it... At least, they never have when it comes to him.

Looking at the target, he adds in a louder voice, as if trying to brush past his earlier comment,  ❝  Hey, do you think you can shoot an arrow through that other arrow? Like- split it in half?  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɴ; ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ? ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ; ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Ayumu 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Emi 」 #nickelsdrocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「   @nickelsdrocs​   」   ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   He needs to be in there. He needs to be in there. He NEEDS to be in there. 

That’s the only thought— the only FEELING —echoing in Shuichi’s mind as he waits the agonizingly-long breath between his shaky request and Seto’s hasty answer. That and the feeling of hands roaming his skin. Ghosts of a touch that had been a living nightmare mere moments ago. Praise still tickling his ears... Breathy. Genuine. Deserved. He deserved what happened to him. He ALWAYS does. Fingers dig deep enough into his sleeves to pick at his skin, threatening to scratch that soft porcelain as a distraction.

❛  Please... Please let me in.... Please don’t make me go.  ❜

Breathing heavily, Shuichi feels his heart claw at his throat, threatening to burst through in a beating bloody mass. He wouldn’t be surprised to see it in a heap on the ground, thrown at Seto’s feet, at the mercy of his boyfriend...  ❛  Please. Please.  ❜  Shaking in the hallway, legs feel weak, Shuichi leaning forward to rest his forehead against the door.  ❛  Please. ❜  A trembling hand raises to rest his palm flat on the door, Shuichi’s breath catching in his suffocated throat at Seto’s voice. Fumbling for the doorknob, he nearly has it turned before he abruptly stops.

❝  Wh-What?  ❞  Thoughts clouded, it takes him a moment to comprehend what it is Seto told him. Grip on the knob tightens, Shuichi considering turning it anyway for one terrifying second, before he slowly, reluctantly lets go. Fingers brushing the smooth metal as they fall down, Shuichi blinking back tears that he KNOWS are stupid to shed. It’s only a few minutes of delay, after all. Enough time for Seto to get dressed and then he can come in. Feeling the adrenaline rush, the thrill of knowing he was about to be in Seto’s arms, fade away to be replaced by a foreboding weight in his stomach, Shuichi weakly says,  ❝  O-Okay...  ❞  

❝  Um, I— I can wait... That’s alright.  ❞  Fighting and losing against the tremor in his tone, Shuichi goes back to hugging himself, now fully resting his weight against Seto’s door, desperate to be close as he possibly can.   「 ☆ 」 

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟᴇꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱʜɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛᴏ; ᴏʙꜱᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Shuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪᴇꜰ ❞ ¦ 「 Seto 」 #nickelsdrocs #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴜɴɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟʟʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi and Seto 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @nickelsdrocs​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Ayumu doesn’t know what he did specifically to get sick— honestly there are plenty of things it could be; he hasn’t been the most careful with his health lately —but this feels like retribution for some horrendous sin. Bedridden, by his own orders, Ayumu opting to pout in bed rather than even attempt to move, he groans into his pillow. A terrible decision, coughing violently at the self-scratch to his throat, harsh sounds muffled.

Whining at his own decision, he turns over with a pout, staring at his desk and the ungodly computer set-up atop it. Wishing that he were sitting there and working on some passion project instead of stuck in this stupid bed feeling worthless, he picks up a used tissue from his blanket and throws it at his work area with a huff... A pathetic throw that only results in the tissue floating down to land right next to the bed. Which does NOT help his mood.

Sitting upright with a grumble when his door is knocked on, he runs his hands through his messy hair as if that’ll tame the unruly pink. Despite being red-nosed, tired-eyed, and disheveled, he still doesn’t want to look like a complete wreck. Even if the only people who would enter his room are Emi and Daisuke. Confused gaze flits down to the rice in his boyfriend’s bandaged hands, carefully taking the bowl with a small and fond smile ( grumpy expression having lifted at the sight of his boyfriend )  ❝  Aw... That’s so swee—  ❞  

And then he sneezes... and his day is ruined again.

Attacked by a storm of kitten-like sneezes, Ayumu hastily sets down the bowl onto his bedside dresser, grabbing a tissue and covering his mouth to try and stifle the sound. Wondering what’ll come first, a merciful death or the end of the onslaught, they finally subside... so Ayumu pitifully plops onto his side and covers his head with his blanket, whining a drawn-out—  ❝  Daisuke...  ❞  —as if his boyfriend is supposed to be able to make his cold just- stop.

❝  I’m siiiiiiiick...  ❞  He whimpers, as if that’s new information. Huffing under his makeshift blanket shield, Ayumu curls up on his bed and says,  ❝  Thanks for the rice, but you should probably just go. I’m not good company right now.  ❞  Does he actually WANT Daisuke to leave? Fuck no. But it feels like the thing to say... and maybe part of him wants to hear Daisuke turn down the offer because he wants to take care of him.   「 ☆ 」 

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɴ; ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ? ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ; ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Ayumu 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀꜱᴍʀɪꜱᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Daisuke 」 #nickelsdrocs #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘ ʟɪꜱᴛɪɴɢ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu and Daisuke 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「   @from-across-the-stars   」   ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Were Kokichi not feeling sick as a dog— in the most literal sense —he’d find the sight of the large man futilely shoving himself partway under the bed hilarious. But right now, he hardly feels like laughing. Hardly feels like doing ANYTHING… and if it didn’t seem like a far-worse fate to get professional help, he wouldn’t be moving around nearly as much as he is. When a human, it’s hardly enjoyable to be sick. But as a canine, it feels as if it somehow grew tenfold. Transforming usually takes some energy out of him but never to this extent, and his instincts never scream THIS loudly for him to obey. Not anymore, at least.

Yet all he wants is to find a dark, isolated corner to crawl into and lie down until he either dies or feels better… Whichever comes first.

Logically, he knows this isn’t an option. And if it were, it’d be a pretty stupid one. But even if the solution isn’t viable, the aches accosting his body are still very much real. An exhaustion tugging at his very bones, growing worse with each swift evasion of Gundham’s grasp. Still, dodge he does. And is determined to do until he physically CAN’T anymore. Fueled by stubbornness and desperation at this point, Kokichi only growls in response to Gundham’s warnings about Charlotte, as if to say—  ❛  I’d like to see her try.  ❜  

Actually, he wouldn’t. He’d prefer if she stay far away.

The thought of being in a vulnerable state is enough to make Kokichi’s stomach twist. Let alone being rendered practically helpless around others… Aside from Gundham and Kazuichi. Doctors and even Veterinarians simply aren’t an option for him. Lying there, strange hands touching him, prodding at him, knowing how weakened he is, how scared… Never. He’s been sick this long without needing outside help. He can keep it that way. Or, worst-case scenario, this is a perfectly good bed to die under.

Snarling at his boyfriend, sound abruptly stops before Kaz even enters the room, ears perked and eyes darting to the still-closed door. Yet small body is tensed, gaze FOCUSED... He hears him. He smells him. Still as death, accepting the split-second risk of Gundham potentially grabbing him, the breeder’s claims of what Charlotte will do falls on deaf ears. Almost. Nose twitches as the knob turns, Kaz’s scent washing over as the door creaks on its hinges. 

Now’s his chance.

Before Gundham can even get his warning out, a black and white blur darts from underneath the bed. Zipping past Gundham and Kazuichi in the time it would take to blink, Kokichi races down the hallway. Nearly making it to the end, panting from the strain on his already-fatigued body, normally-nimble paws suddenly start to scramble. Losing his footing, he lets out a startled yelp before tumbling into a heap on the floor. Lying there, breathing heavily, body trembles as he attempts to stand before falling flat once more. Whimpering with a pitiful sneeze, sullen gaze is focused on the end of the hall... He’s so close. He just needs to get up and he can find a hiding place. There isn’t a single one he hasn’t discovered in his mischief. Gundham would never be able to find him. Or at the very least, it would take a while.

But he’s just so tired... and his body refuses to move.   「 ☆ 」 

#(( hell yeah :3 )) #(( also im losing my shit over the thought of just- this tiny blur... fucking BOOKING it down the hall- #-and then tumbling to the floor because rip XD )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴏᴡʟɪɴ’ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘɪɴ’ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀɴᴏᴏɴ ❞ ◌ ᴡᴇʀᴇᴡᴏʟꜰ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Kokichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Gundham 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #from-across-the-stars #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ; ‘ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Gundham 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ; ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Kazuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

dragcns-den asked: “In every moment a choice exists. We can cling to the past or embrace the inevitability of change and allow a brighter future to unfold before us.”  —  (( Makoto @ Nagito - after all the craziness has passed, seeing how things are going with the after-game Dr2 babs on the island. Because Nagito deserves the chance to interact with the Hope Boi again  lol )) @not-bcring​

Originals Rp Meme || Accepting

There’s only a soft smile in response, how honored he was truly to be able to speak with Makoto again. Then again, he’s honored whenever anyone wants to speak with someone like him. Nagito knows well what he means by those words, and he certainly believes them himself. Though sometimes, to keep that brighter future, certain weeds have to be trimmed. Or at least, one would think so.

“I would expect no less from you, after all you’ve made quite a change for the future in the name of hope yourself. Those who cling to the past are who need to be cut out so that the future can remain bright, or it’ll simply keep cycling back because of those few people, don’t you think?”

✩   「 resiliency-in-starlight 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」   Nagito is an interesting soul, to say the least, and Makoto knows that he’s barely scratched the surface of what lies within the fellow Lucky Student. Although, now that he’s known more commonly as the Ultimate Hope, perhaps Makoto no longer has any right to the title? Yet, no matter what he’s called, Makoto still feels a tie towards it. ‘ Luck ’ is what brought him to Hope’s Peak. To his friends. And yes, to the tragedy that befell them... But also eventual victories, hard-earned through sacrifice and stubbornness, and the bonds forged in the fires of the Hell that overtook the world. A devastation that is slowly but surely being set right, greatly thanks to the help of those now confined to Jabberwock Island.

Sometimes, Makoto wonders if the others comprehend just how much he owes to them... To everyone. With as much praise AND criticism as he gets— especially now as he works to rebuild Hope’s Peak and the symbol it provides for the world —it can be easy to feel like other get overlooked in a shadow he has no desire to cast, nor does he try to make span any longer than it already has. Unfortunately, the previously despaired don’t have much choice but to remain set aside... for the moment. Makoto has no intention of forcing them on the sidelines inevitably. They deserve the same fresh start that everyone else is getting. 

Whether or not they believe it. 

❝  Well... I wouldn’t put it exactly that way.  ❞  Makoto replies, a light, slightly-nervous laugh lacing his words. Not out of any unease towards Nagito, but simply a habit of sharing his opinions that he has yet to shake. After a lifetime of people preferring he be quiet, it’s difficult to accept that his words hold as much value as others now seem to think. Looking at Nagito, the shorter male beams with a more easy-going smile,  ❝  I prefer to think of it as— those who cling to the past, especially if it’s a dreary one, can be shown a better way. People aren’t incapable of change, no matter how difficult that change may be to achieve.  ❞   

Looking back in front of himself, Makoto’s voice softens, as does his expression. Appearing more thoughtful as he takes in the expanse of the sky above them,  ❝  I have to believe that... Because that’s what Hope is. It’s not giving up, even when things are at their darkest. It’s seeing the light, no matter how dim.  ❞  Grimacing, Makoto’s gaze falls to ocean before them instead. Taking in the steady crashing of the waves. Beautiful... but deadly in the right circumstances.  ❝  I know that some people can be more... challenging than others. But- if our first instinct is to cut down what doesn’t fit in the world we’re trying to create, then....  ❞  

❝  How long until it gets easy? Until we cut before we even try. Before we think to try... Before we know it, we could lose some of the most beautiful flowers just because we mistook them for weeds.  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

#danganronpa 2 spoilers #anime spoilers #(( *hands u... a lad* )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ʟʟ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ꜰᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ; ɪ’ʟʟ ᴄᴀʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ɪ ɢᴏ! ❞ ¦ 「 Makoto IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ꜱᴛʀᴏɴɢ ᴇʏᴇꜱ? ❞ ◌ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ!ɢᴀᴍᴇ ¦ 「 Makoto 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴜᴄᴋʏ ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Nagito 」 #resiliency-in-starlight #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩     「   @from-across-the-stars​   」    ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Nagito… is not fond of hospitals.

It’s a mundane sentiment; most people are not fond of them. But there’s a clear sourness within Nagito’s gut whenever he’s forced to step into one, stemming from conditions far more severe than commonplace unease. Ironically, his reluctance to come when not deemed necessary usually lands him within its sterile depths for extended periods of time. Confined to a familiar hospital bed, tucked away in a private room reserved for the frequent and wealthy visitor, Nagito silently laments the decisions that had brought him back here… and so soon after his recent checkup.

Illness really is a remarkably fast-moving threat when it comes to his fragile immune system. Certain what he was experiencing was a simple cold that would pass in due time, Nagito hadn’t expected to collapse right outside his room. As luck would have it, Mikan had been passing by. Able to get help even amongst her panic, Nagito had been spirited away to the place he hates most. A necessary evil that he’ll have to thank her for once he’s back on his feet. But for now, confined to a bed with much-needed fluids pumped into him and beeping machines monitoring his vitals, that shall have to wait. Thanking and sending away the two men at his side should be far simpler a task… It should be.

But from the moment Kazuichi and Gundham rushed into the room, as if Hellfire was licking at their heels, Nagito knew it would be an even bigger headache than the beeping of the machines around him. The two men look like they sprinted straight from whatever tasks they’d been engaged in when getting the news.

The steady noise of the monitors is already grating on Nagito’s ears, the lucky boy never able to fully tune it out no matter how much he’s been exposed to it. Wondering if it’s as splitting a pain for the others or that’s just his exhausted body making things more difficult, Nagito quietly studies the men beside him. Mainly Gundham, gaze now riveted upon the papers within the breeder’s grasp. Grey hues sharp, hands grab his blankets with enough force to turn already-pale knuckles white, trembling ever-so-slightly as he practically tries to will the breeder closer with wishful thinking alone. Intelligent as Gundham may be, Nagito prays that the breeder doesn’t comprehend the damning evidence in his grasp.

Gundham may tend to the medical needs of animals, but surely Nagito’s vast and varied history— doctors keeping extensive records on hand of ailments ( both physical and mental per request of Hope’s Peak ) , risks, medications, and whatnot —will go over his head. If that’s the case, then it’d be up to the others memory to cling to the overly-complex terms for later use. Although frankly, there are only two that concern Nagito at the moment. One still slowly dragging him to an untimely end while the other lies dormant, Nagito having overcome it twice already… Not that it matters if it returns, since his fate is already set.

At least it’s clear that Kazuichi is clueless to his condition.

About as clueless as BOTH men are to the slip of Gundham’s tongue, Nagito’s chest heavy with the unfortunate sincerity he heard within it… If it were anyone else other than them, he would easily explain what’s wrong with him. Knowing that it wouldn’t matter. That, morbid a truth as it is, they might find relief in it. Or at the very least, an apathy that Nagito is accustomed to. But he can’t say it to either of them. Not now. Not after that.

Smoothly snatching taking the papers from Kazuichi’s hand, feeling far more comfortable with them in his grasp face down on the blanket where they can no longer be studied, Nagito replies in an equally-smooth tone. ❝ Currently, I’m overcoming a virus that caused me to collapse… But you two should have nothing to worry about. My body’s reaction was more- severe than normal. ❞ Purposely steering the conversation to the present instead of fully answering Kazuichi’s question, Nagito’s disinterested gaze follows one of the thin tubes stuck into his vein, fluids carefully flowing in to help him regain his strength.

❝ My immune system is garage. Befitting the worthless trash it belongs to… ❞ Comment is made with little care to how it’d be taken, it making far more sense to Nagito than anything else so far. Sighing, as if bored of the entire event, he shrugs and explains, ❝ Once I’ve been pumped full of fluids and had a few standard tests done, it shouldn’t be long before I’m released… if I’m lucky. ❞ Grimacing, irritation breaks through his calm composure, tone holding a bit more bite as he picks at his blanket, ❝ If I’m unlucky, I may have to stay for a couple days while they run more extensive tests. As if that’s necessary. ❞

Looking as if he’s simply annoyed at the prospect of the hospital staff wasting his time, there’s no denying the faint quiver in Nagito’s hands, grip on the papers tightening ever-so-slight with a faint crinkle. He doesn’t want to be here any longer than necessary… and certainly not alone. ❝ Either way, neither of you need to waste your time here. ❞ And there’s that unconcerned smile. Empty but persistent, practiced time and time again as Nagito reassures others who matter far more than himself. ❝ This isn’t anything out of the ordinary for me. Frankly, aside from having company this time, it’s rather routine. ❞

Nagito forces his hands to stop shaking.

It’s time for Gundham and Kazuichi to leave.

They have better things to do.

❝ No need to concern yourself with a burden like me. ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#terminal illness tw #(( i am so sorry for him rip gjknfjdngdfkg )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ? ❞ ¦ 「 Nagito IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴛᴏ ʟɪᴠᴇ; ꜱᴏ ᴄʜᴏᴏꜱᴇ ᴡɪꜱᴇʟʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Nagito 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Gundham 」 #from-across-the-stars #nagito and kazuichi tbt #nagito and gundham tbt #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「   @from-across-the-stars​​   」   ✩   -   Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Bracing himself for a blow, breath is abruptly knocked from him… but not in the way he expected. Glare shattered into confusion at the sudden interruption— the leader of the group crying out in pain as something heavy hits him square in the back —it’s soon replaced with utter horror. Unable to hide the distress that paints his already pale face a ghostly-shade, wide eyes take in a scenario he wished to only witness in nightmares. Silhouetted against the moonlight that dares stream into the darkened alley, as if fate is shining a spotlight down upon the scene Kokichi has caused, stands two of the LAST people he wants around right now.

The fucking idiots…

Before he can say as much, chaos has already erupted. Unceremoniously dropped to the ground, Kokichi watches his should-be captor rush into the fray. Foolishly believing in his chances against the newcomers, the brute is quickly proven wrong. Struggling to stand, knees weak from more than just fatigue, Kokichi can’t feel any air entering his lungs. Sounds muffled, as if his head was being forced underwater, Kokichi’s heart is the only thing he can clearly feel. Each beat sharp in his chest, like a nail being driven further in. A thunderous, racing roar of retribution, screaming to Kokichi that he’s still alive. And look what good it’s causing.

Trembling like a dog left out in the rain, he rests against the wall, broken blemishes digging into his back as a constant reminder of where he is. Most might not need it, but it’s the only thing keeping Kokichi clinging to reality as long as he has. Pained screams around him echoing with those of the past, vision flickering between the fight and horrifically vivid images of a warehouse, dark and damp and dripping with blood… A figure tied in a chair beside him. Slumped over and silent. But he hadn’t always been. No, he had been talking. Smiling. Reassuring Kitaro Kokichi that it would be okay. The walls had felt like they shook that night. Weakening from the wailing they fought to keep held within. Begging, crying, SCREAMING for them to stop.

He hadn’t pleaded once… but Kokichi had.

Until his throat was raw.

Kokichi doesn’t realize tears are silently sliding down his face until a flash of pink eyes are aimed at him. Shell-shocked gaze snapping back to the present with dizzying speed, Kokichi is only able to utter a frantic,  ❝  Shit.  ❞  when Kazuichi is grabbed thanks to the lapse in judgement. Thanks to him. Pushing himself away from the wall, he falls forward onto his knees, hissing as they are freshly bloodied. Looking back into the fray, stomach sinks at the sound Kazuichi makes as he hits the ground in tandem, unable to find any relief at the mechanic standing once again. All that means is he’s back in the fight…

❛  No. No, no, no, no, NO-  ❜  Scrambling to his feet, chest heaving and head swimming, he tries to gather his distorted thoughts.  ❛  Think. Fucking think. You BETTER fucking think of something right NOW.  ❜  Silently screaming at himself, head hastily surveys the scene. Just in time to see Gundham return a hit that had him reeling to the ground, Kokichi’s chest burning with a sickening fury amongst the fear. He needs to stop this. He WILL stop this. There has to be a way to, and quickly… Forced to trust that Kazuichi and Gundham can handle things for the time being ( they may have gotten hurt, but they are far from helpless.. especially when working together ) he turns his attention towards the leader of the group. Sticking to the outskirts, as expected of the obviously overwhelmed guy.

Kokichi had pegged him as a coward, only ever striking when someone else was holding the little leader down. Now with two larger threats in the mix, he seems to be leaving it to his lackeys. Back pressed against the wall, the man keeps his distance as much as possible. Easing his way around the scuffle so that he can have a clearer escape route if need be. Despite his clear precautions, it’s obvious that he’s too prideful to leave while his group still has a chance. None of his followers seem eager to be labeled the true coward amongst them, everyone fighting senselessly like cornered animals. But Kokichi has no doubt that all it’ll take for them to fall apart is an opening. An excuse to flee without appearing too quick to.

… Cut off the head of the snake, and the body will die.

With attention diverted to the chaotic fight, Kokichi makes his way towards the opposing leader on quiet feet. Limping thanks to his injuries, demeanor doesn’t give away the pain he’s in. Face is still as stone, a deceptive carving of calm and calculated hatred. Internally, Kokichi is anything but composed. A turbulent storm, having killed his target a dozen times in his mind as he silently slips his weapon from its hidden place in his clothes. A butterfly knife, which isn’t the best for combat but serves its purpose perfectly fine. Thumb absentmindedly rubs the handle, surface smooth in an unwavering grip. Eyes sharp as his blade, small body is low to the ground, like a predator stalking its prey. Foolishly oblivious to his surroundings, the target doesn’t realize how close he is to potential death.

It’d be easy to kill him… It’s much harder to miss the vital points that Kokichi picks out as if they were glowing. Against every instinct he has, Kokichi rushes at his target, clinging to the larger male as he jabs the knife into their side. It’s a grisly looking wound, the scream it creates even more-so. But he’ll survive. People have made it through far worse. Fire-filled eyes focused on the blood seeping into the man’s shirt, Kokichi twists the knife before roughly yanking it out, biting his tongue to stifle his pained yelp when he’s thrown aside. Kokichi refusing to scream because of HIM.

Collapsed on the ground, knife clattering a few feet away, Kokichi shakily lifts himself up onto his forearms. Fresh blood on his face and limbs, he doesn’t even seem to notice. Expression nothing but maliciously joyful, he watches the panicked man firmly press his hands to his side. Laughter bubbles from a bloodstained grin, Kokichi spitting some out thanks to his mauled tongue, breathless but utterly delighted as it echoes through the alley. Reveling in the sight of the assailants’ leader running away as best he can, stumbling and frantic to find help. Kokichi doesn’t know if he’s made things better or worse for himself in the long run… but he does know one thing.

Either he’s given the other attackers a reason to follow, or he’s given Kazuichi and Gundham an opportunity to decisively grab the advantage. With horrified looks aimed towards the retreating back of their should-be leader and a few uneasily glancing at the still-cackling Kokichi, his ribs feeling like they’re splitting with each wheezing breath… the mood of the group has certainly been changed by this unforeseen distraction.

Kokichi has always been good at surprising people.   「 ☆ 」

#(( tfw you stab and man and then Laugh About It )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴘᴀɪʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴏɴᴇ ɪꜱ ʀᴇᴀʟ; ᴄ’ᴍᴏɴ ɴᴏᴡ! ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Kokichi 」 #from-across-the-stars #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Gundham 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇꜱ; ‘ᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Gundham 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇɢɪɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ; ʜᴀʟꜰ ᴏꜰ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏꜰ ᴍᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kokichi and Kazuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「 @from-across-the-stars​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Nagito had been in search of his favorite mechanic, having heard from passerby that they last saw Kazuichi in his garage. Expecting nothing more than a likely over-worked boyfriend amongst his machines, Nagito had been taken aback by the sight of a large canine rushing toward him after making an ungodly leap over a car. A normal person might have been frightened. But Nagito has never been normal… and he doubts he qualifies as a person anymore either. Having the existence of vampires proven to him some time ago— in what he, ironically, considers an unorthodox bout of good luck —after a late-night run in with what he’d THOUGHT would be an unfortunate death, he’s getting adjusted to the… complications this lifestyle brings.

Luckily for Nagito, feeding seems to come rather naturally. Luckily for everyone in Hope’s Peak, he’d gotten his fill last night during a stroll away from the campus. And, tempting as the essence around him smells— driving him near-mad if he goes too long without a proper meal —he has no desire to indulge in Ultimate blood. It would be presumptuous for him to even humor daydreams of sinking his hidden fangs into necks worth so much more than his own even-further-damned soul.

Meeting the excited greeting with a laugh, hands affectionately ruffle the large creature’s face as its tongue assaults his cheek. Sputtering as he closes his eyes, he asks through the affection,  ❝  Hello, and who might you be? One of Gundham’s friends?  ❞  As soon as the hypothetical question leaves him, Nagito catches a waft of the strange dog’s scent. Lifting from its fur with a clarity beyond what his senses used to be capable of. Amongst the common notes of grease and fur, interwoven intricately as thread, there’s an unmistakable sharpness. A genetic warning that Nagito shoves aside with the same dismissal he does any other threat to his life. Instincts forcibly repressed, as they’ve always been.

Because within the new, yet undeniable, scent of a natural enemy… there’s the sweet, almost beckoning, mark of his partner. A burst of recognition floods through him so thoroughly he feels he may be dizzy at the conflicting aromas, danger and comfort mixing in a way that’s oddly reminiscent of his own existence. His very being seemingly made of death and hope; a balancing act that Nagito has learned to relish in. Which may be why all he offers is a softly hummed,  ❝  Interesting…  ❞  As cool fingers leisurely scratch underneath the ‘ canine’s ’ chin, clear gaze studying the other now with a fresh, if unspoken, understanding.

Very interesting indeed…

Beckoning with his head towards the now-open door, he ruffles the top of Kazuichi’s head in one more bout of playful affection.  ❝  I assume you’re not planning on spending all night in this garage?  ❞     「 ☆ 」

#(( *vibrates with Excitement* jkfdnfgjkdngdf )) #(( shoutout to Kaz and Nagito not revealing that they got some Creature-Shit going on )) #(( Granted now Nagito knows... and Kaz probs will soon enough because you KNOW this Bitch is gonna turn into a bat at some- #-point just to see what happens XD )) #(( he wants to mess with the Boyfriend )) #(( plus who knows - maybe his scent is a bit iffy now that he be Vamp-ified.... either way- he doesn't plan on keeping his secret XD )) #(( *lies down* Side Note: i am WEAK for Vampire and Werewolf romances because it's the Good Shit )) #(( tfw instincts say 'oh hey this is your natural enemy' but your heart goes 'no it's Boyfriend' )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʜᴏᴘᴇ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ? ❞ ¦ 「 Nagito IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴘᴇʀ; ꜰᴏʀ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜɪᴍ ❞ ◌ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Nagito 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #nagito and kazuichi tbt #from-across-the-stars #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩   「 @from-across-the-stars​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   In her panic, this had seemed like the best decision. The ONLY decision. Were Chihiro in a better state of mind, she’d have never dragged Mondo into danger, no matter how far better equipped he is to handle it. It’s still her problem. Her burden to bear. People were always eager to cause her harm, whether they viewed her as a boy or a girl. When realization finally dawns that Mondo could be HURT or worse, thanks to her, a nausea hits her stomach far stronger than any fear that had filled her earlier.

What has she done?

Barely able to breathe through her panic, grip is tight on Mondo’s jacket even as her conscience SCREAMS for her to let go. Heart pattering so quickly it hurts in her chest, eyes sting with tears unencumbered, sliding down her face as she hiccups,  ❝  I-I’m sorry, Mondo... This is all my fa-ault...  ❞  Expression crumpling with guilt, she trembles beneath his strong arms, burrowing deeper into their protection despite the nausea tearing apart her stomach,  ❝  I shouldn’t have gotten you involved. I’m- I’m so sorry....  ❞  

Yet here she is, hiding beside him through her tears. Apologizes worthless, the trouble already done, and Chihiro doing nothing to stop it. Sucking in a deep breath, wide eyes glance over at the hesitating figures. They seem reluctant to move any closer thanks to Mondo’s outburst, a few tense moments passing as the figures look at one another. Biting her bottom lip, chest hitches when a decision is made... and it isn’t a promising one. Tensing in Mondo’s hold as her would-be assailants seem to think their odds are pretty good with three against one, Chihiro hates that she has to agree. Mondo might be tough but he’s still only human.

She doesn’t entirely hear what the others say, her mind buzzing too loudly with panic. Decisions swarming within her as the sneering figures taunt Mondo— something about how he should mind his own business, before he gets himself in trouble —Chihiro glances up at her protector, grimacing at the furious expression on his face. He doesn’t look like he’d back down if it came to blows... and from the way the others claim that he should just ‘ hand over what's theirs ’, they don’t look eager to give up on their easy target. It’s going to get physical. People are going to get hurt. Mondo is going to get hurt... and it’d be because of her. 

❝ You- You don’t have to help me...  ❞  Chihiro breathes, voice breaking as she fights back the fear intertwined in her tone. As much as it pains her, knees weak as her body threatens to give out from the mere THOUGHT of what may happen to her, Chihiro’s frantic voice is firm in her claim,  ❝  This isn’t your problem. I-I’m not your responsibility!  ❞  

With a taunt that Mondo should listen to the smart girl, the leader abruptly takes a swing at the biker... one of his friends quickly making a grab for Chihiro during the attempted distraction.   「 ☆ 」 

#(( Time for Mondo to wreck their shit dfkjngjdfkgfdg )) #(( Feel free to write whatever you want; he deserves to Kick Ass and get Hurt at the same time lmao )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴇʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ ɪᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʜᴀᴘᴘʏ! ❞ ¦ 「 Chihiro IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴏᴘᴘᴏꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴡᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ɢᴀᴍᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Chihiro 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙɪᴋᴇʀ ɢᴀɴɢ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Mondo 」 #from-across-the-stars #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ; ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Chihiro and Mondo 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩     「   @from-across-the-stars​    」    ✩   -  Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」   Kazuichi had done his best... He had tried to get to his dad’s workshop in time. He had tried to stay FOCUSED. It shouldn’t have been that hard. All he had to do was race out of the dorms, out of the school, to the bus stop, ride it and pray no disasters delayed the route, then sprint into the garage where his dad was waiting for him to assist with the backed-up orders. Having fallen on hard times, as if times had ever really been anything but, they couldn’t afford to hire any extra help. So, it’s up to Kazuichi to pick up the slack.

It honestly wasn’t anything out of the ordinary... aside from kissing Gundham’s cheek.

That alone had sent Kazuichi down a spiral that only grew the further away he got. Wondering what Gundham must have been thinking, what he must be saying to... probably Sonia or whatever— those two are pretty close friends; a fact that used to make Kaz’s stomach sick with apprehension, but now makes it twist in an oddly-different way. God, he really screwed things up. Massively, majorly, momentously FUCKED things up between them. Their friendship can’t afford any strain after the disaster that was Kazuichi’s first guy-guy kiss.

First guy-guy kiss? It’s not like there’s going to be another... Right? Right.

Stomach twists at the memory of Gundham’s mouth against his own, tongue flitting across bruised lips, wincing as the action reminds Kaz of the strike he’d taken to the jaw a few hours earlier. That’s what he gets for arriving late, he supposes. Mind swimming, he had missed his bus stop... and didn’t realize it until a few stops later. Grumbling under his breath as Kazuichi slowly makes his way down the hallway towards his dorm room, he lightly presses his fingers against his cheek and winces. Yep. Still tender... Still throbbing with the memory of his dad’s large hand slamming across it. Again, well-deserved. Shouldn’t have tried to make excuses. 

Sighing, he drags his beanie further down and tries to ignore the aching of his arms. Bruises blossom beneath his sleeves from where he’d been grabbed, back and sides groaning in tandem from having been thrown against the wall and ground. Not for arriving late— his dad had worked out all that anger pretty quickly with a few well-aimed smacks across the head —but for what happened afterward. Mistakes from being distracted, suggestions that were none of his business, backtalk that he should have outgrown when he was a kid... Little things that piled upon one another, punishments littered across the time spent as they worked. Adding and adding until Kazuichi was in the state he is now. Bruised, bloody and wanting nothing more than to collapse his exhausted form onto his bed. Maybe down some pills to help with the pain, then he can patch himself up when he wakes up...

❝  At least that’s done with...  ❞  He mumbles, reaching into his pocket to try and find his dorm key. Grimacing at the partial-lie, already dreading having to return in a few days to continue the work, his searching becomes more frantic as the seconds tick by. Eyes widening, he whimpers a weak  ❝  Aw, c’mon...  ❞  when it becomes obvious he doesn’t have his key.  ❝  FUCK.  ❞  Kaz growls, slamming a fist against his door, hissing as his bruised knuckles hit the wood. He doesn’t have his key... He has the spare key Gundham gave him to HIS dorm room. 

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK... Another fist hits against his door. Then again. Again, and again and again— Kaz doesn’t know how long he pummels his own door, breathless curses hissed past clenched teeth, before he SLAMS his palms flat against the wood. Resting his forehead against it with a thump, he breathes a shaky exhale and closes his eyes. Trembling as he stands before his locked room, stomach ill as he wonders what to do now... He could take the door off its hinges, but the proper tools were left in his workshop. Legs feel like jelly, Kaz using all his will to keep from falling to his knees. He could sneak into Gundham’s room, PRAY the breeder isn’t around, and try to find his key... That is, if it’s even still there. Fuck.

❝  Goddamnit...  ❞  He whimpers in a cracked voice, eyes shut and tears beading in the edges. Knuckles split open and bleeding, Kaz weakly hits a closed fist against the door one more time, as if that’ll magically open it...  ❝  Goddamnit.  ❞     「 ☆ 」 

#(( oh this is going to be Great :'DDDDDDDDDD )) #(( *puts this before they are Officially living together... but lbr Kaz has been slowly leaving his stuff behind fjdgndkgdfg )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴅᴏ... ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜰᴀᴅɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʏᴇꜱᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ; ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ ᴘʀᴇ-ᴇꜱᴛᴀʙʟɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ʜᴀʀᴍᴏɴʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʙʀᴇᴇᴅᴇʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Gundham 」 #from-across-the-stars #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʀɪᴠᴀʟʀʏ ɪꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi and Gundham 」

[not-bcring]

✩ 「   @nickelsdrocs   」   ✩  - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Shuichi doesn’t know where the flowery prose came from— maybe blame can be placed in the book of poetry set aside on the table he’s seated at —but it’s not inaccurate. There’s something about Seto that’s yanking the detective along against all better judgment. A sense of confusing comfort found in the others company. An elation that Shuichi hadn’t known could be felt. Seto is a puzzle within a puzzle and Shuichi is helplessly intrigued by it. Thankfully, the feeling appears to be mutual at the moment.

Instead of being off-put by such an odd turn of phrase, Seto appears to take it in stride. Simply adding to the sentiment without making Shuichi feel awkward for feeling it in the first place. Smiling at the playful thief, Shuichi snickers when his nose is tapped, a hand hastily covering his mouth to stifle the delighted sound. No need for a librarian to hover over the detective’s shoulder when he’s more than capable of keeping himself in line. Complexion hinted pink, eyes shine with unveiled ( yet woefully unrealized ) fondness as he replies from behind his hand, ❝ Well, that’s good. Because I don’t want to be rid of you. ❞

Despite the truthful words, Shuichi still doesn’t entirely believe Seto’s. Even if the thief means them, there’s bound to come a time when Shuichi is no longer interesting enough to remain a part of Seto’s life. When the novelty of ❛ rivals ❜ wears off and Seto sees the unimpressive detective for what he is. No one worth staying with.

Until then, it’s important that Seto knows his company is wanted for however long it may last.

Delicate hand rests upon an open book in front of him, hopeful smile revealed as Shuichi asks, ❝ Are you busy right now? Because if you don’t have anywhere else to be, maybe you’d like to spend some time here… with me? ❞ Based on the tower of books beside him, Shuichi seems to have made himself quite at home in the library. One would assume he was in the midst of a slew of schoolwork or perhaps pouring over a tough case. Yet the relaxed posture and willingness for conversation speak otherwise. Engrossed in a rare moment of respite, of course the detective chose to spend it in the library of all places.

Stack of books comprised of whatever happened to catch his eye— ranging from a collection of short stories to a comprehensive study of birds —Shuichi had planned on sinking into them at his leisure. Nodding at the empty chair beside him, he lightly jokes, ❝ There are plenty of books to go around… ❞ Awkwardly chuckling at his own quip, gaze averts to the side. Tucking a strand of ebony hair behind his ear, it does nothing to tame the silken locks falling around his reddened face. ❝ O-Of course, I understand if you’d rather not. I know the library isn’t the most exciting place in the world… ❞

It doesn’t occur to Shuichi that he could offer to spend time with Seto somewhere else if he’d prefer. It already feels invasive enough just asking inviting the other to stick around, let alone inviting himself to wherever Seto might prefer to be. 「 ☆ 」

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟᴇꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜱʜɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛᴏ; ᴏʙꜱᴄᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘɪᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Shuichi 」 #nickelsdrocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴘʜᴀɴᴛᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪᴇꜰ ❞ ¦ 「 Seto 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʟᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ; ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʀɪᴇᴅ ꜱᴏ ᴜɴɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟʟʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi and Seto 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @heartheaded​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Ryota doesn't spare Ai a glance after their initial command that he stop moving, not even a verbal hum to show that the other's words made it through to the artist. But they must have, since Ryota's posture relaxes as they sink back into their work. However, stylus abruptly stops in the midst of striking a few lines when Ai's expression changes. As if Ryota sensed the movement. Shoulders tensing once more, it's a subtle shift in their reserved demeanor, the tip of their pen hitting the tablet's screen with a light tap.

❝ I can feel you judging me. ❞ They dryly complain, quiet voice sounding more annoyed than offended. As if this was yet another inconvenience they'd have to contend with instead of a mark against them as a person. It's understandable they'd be viewed poorly for how they live. Besides, they've been accustomed to judgment even before their habits became so abysmal. Perhaps, were they more inclined to take better care of themself, they could avoid being viewed QUITE as harshly. Soft, daresay attractive features veiled by layers of neglect ( both from the world and themself ) and utter disregard... But there's no point to it.

Beneath a clean appearance lies a personality and interests and social skills that provide more than enough reason for ridicule... The only thing worthwhile is their art. So, that's where Ryota must put all their effort.

Eyes narrowing slightly, lips tighten in a frustrated frown as Ryota finally looks back at their subject. Golden hues glinting as they study Ai, even their expression doesn't betray any PERSONAL stake in the matter. More reminiscent of an artist examining their tools, trying to figure out the best way to work with what they have.

Flitting down from Ai's face to his form, Ryota's own features scrunch in disgust as they huff to themself, ❝ No, that won't work. I can't even focus on your body when your face is like that... You're too tense. It's clear that everything is off. ❞ Whether others would agree, it's hard to say. But Ryota's keen eye can't get past the discomfort crawling on Ai's skin, tainting what is supposed to be a pure study of their subject. Feeling a similar itch within themself, stemmed from the task at hand instead of the unsanitary conditions they are meant to perform it in, Ryota rests their tablet on their lap and complains, ❝ Look, I know it's not exactly pleasant in here, but I can't do my job if you can't shove down your disgust for a bit longer. ❞

Technically a ❛ BIT ❜ is a stretch. With the pace things have been going, it'd be a miracle if they managed to keep it under an hour or two at best. But admitting that hardly feels like any way to get Ai to calm down... Although, Ryota doubts the other isn't aware. Still, they consider it common courtesy not to vocalize the unfortunate truth when it's not necessary. 「 ☆ 」

#(( Had to move it to a New Post :3 )) #not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ʟʟ ʀᴇᴘʀᴏɢʀᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪᴛꜱᴇʟꜰ ❞ ¦ 「 Ryota IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ꜱᴋʏ; ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ꜱᴀᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Ryota 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɢᴜʀᴜ ❞ ¦ 「 Ai 」 #heartheaded #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @nickelsdrocs​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Caught in his clever ruse, Ayumu doesn't even try to deny it. Why should he? His intentions are more than justified, considering how reluctant Daisuke is to share about or even admit the existence of, the unhappiness intertwined in his life. Like silken threads, nearly-invisible but STRONG. Pulling on the other man, preventing him from doing what he wants. Even when Daisuke does allow himself to indulge— Ayumu would consider his mere company a bit of indulgence, since it'd be far less trouble for Daisuke to steer clear of the pink instigator —Ayumu still sees the effects of those strings. Digging into flesh as Daisuke resists, the other man appearing to be holding himself back as well. As if he knows that if he pushes too far, he could be sliced through completely. A scary fate, for anyone to face.

That doesn't deter Ayumu from thinking he SHOULD face it. Whether Daisuke breaks or the strings do, is yet to be seen. Either way, he can't keep existing the way he has been. Bleeding, unseen by others but unmistakably felt. Part of Ayumu insists that he's projecting onto Daisuke. Putting feelings in the chest of his unwitting peer, stirring up problems for someone who doesn't deserve them. All to make himself feel less alone; Ayumu's threads still entangled around his limbs, cutting like razor wire that he's learned to ignore. The pain only registering when he talks to—

But that's neither here nor there.

Daisuke may be able to untangle himself from whatever is holding him back from being his true self. He at least deserves to TRY. If that comes about thanks to a childish game of ❛ Truth or Dare ❜ then so be it. Meeting Daisuke's unimpressed stare with one of his own, he crosses his arms and quirks an unashamed brow. ❝ Well, if you would answer questions without the game, then I wouldn't need to do things like this. ❞ He haughtily retorts, firmly standing by his study-session ruse. Even though he DOES desperately need to make a dent on the pile of homework still languishing on his desk. But finding solutions to those problems are so boring... and not nearly as important as the tight-lipped problem sitting beside him.

Pouting at Daisuke's verbal maneuvering— he should have expected as much —Ayumu rolls his eyes with a scoff, but the playful shove against the other's side and amused smirk tugging at his lips take the sting out of his reaction. ❝ You KNOW that's not what I meant! ❞ Ayumu scolds, laughter lacing the light complaining, ❝ But fine, whatever... I suppose that answer counts. But barely. ❞ Leaning a bit closer, he pokes Daisuke's chest ( half-lidded gaze and purred tone a bit of subtle revenge for ruining his clever ploy ) and teases, ❝ I'll get a real answer out of you next time, just you wait~ ❞

Moving back, he crosses one leg over the other and straightens his back. Spine a bit arched and a hand resting against his chest, he chipperly says, ❝ Alright, now it's my turn. So I'll show you how it's actually done... because I choose truth~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɴ; ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ? ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ; ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Ayumu 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘ ʟɪꜱᴛɪɴɢ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu and Daisuke 」 #nickelsdrocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀꜱᴍʀɪꜱᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Daisuke 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

With the introduction of beastly power into his blood, Kazuichi had become a cuddle monster towards anyone who would give him the time of day. No one was safe from his incessant whines and pleas for attention, which wasn't truly all that different from how he was before, the werewolf only having grown more open about his desires at how they demand affection with an instinctive itch beneath his skin. Kaz had been clingy before, but now he was a pack animal by nature, the lack of attention even more keenly felt should he go too long without it. Luckily, there were many of his friends who enjoyed cuddles as well, and a few of those were often found sedentary enough for either Kaz to sit in their lap, or them in his while they worked for hours of uninterrupted attention. Caught in the mechanic's trap that day had been none other than a certain little bunny detective, Shuichi hard at work doing....something as he sat on Kaz's lap in the peace and quiet of the detective's room. The wolf had followed his friend back to said room after Shuichi had returned from his work at the local police station, Kaz able to tell by instinct alone that the other man was overworked and needed a break, and what better break then a good snuggle? A break that still hadn't come, what had started as a "quick" look over of papers turning into into even more work. Letting out a sad little whine, Kaz nuzzled his nose at Shuichi's neck, his chin hooking over his shoulder as he gave an impatient twitch of a canine ear. "Shuichiiii, you said you'd take a break hours ago!" Had it actually been hours? Whose to say, but however long it had been, it was far too long for Kaz's liking. "If you don't take a break right now, I'm gonna....um...I'm gonna bite you!!" -  ✩   「 @wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight 」   ✩  

「 ☆ 」 Pouring over documents that had been graciously bestowed upon him by the other members of his ❛ team ❜, Shuichi is grateful it's only busywork. With the case practically closed, there's merely the issue of crossing some t's and dotting some i's. Ensuring that nothing goes wrong and causes them to trip at the finish line. Either by some gross oversight or, just as probable, sabotage from within. Perhaps that's why it's become almost tradition for the young detective to carefully monitor things once they near their end. Because those in command are aware of how... mistakes can be made when tasks are left to others. Not that those in charge are innocent, but they tend to be smarter with their maliciousness.

Closing cases successfully works in their favor, even if it also works in Shuichi's. They can focus on tarnishing the detective's reputation in a more personal manner, hoping to bring Shuichi down without bringing down the the department itself. Honestly, that's all whitenoise to the detective. As commonplace as the blue sky above or the bugs that skitter below. He can handle people making his life Hell, so long as they keep their conniving hands off those of others.

Exhaustion starting to tug at his limbs, Shuichi brushes it off as per usual. The only difference in the familiar sight is the detective's choice of perch. Would anyone have told him he'd be comfortably settled in a lap ( one of the most anxiety-inducing places there is)— let alone one belonging to a wolf —he never would have believed them. Not one to be at ease around canines, for good reason, it had taken effort on his part to give Kazuichi the chance he KNEW the other deserved. Not wanting natural instincts to prevent him from enjoying the company of someone who seemed genuinely nice and for some strange reason, actually wanted to be around him.

Rather than bare his fangs and tear Shuichi to shreds, Kazuichi has done nothing but approach him with a wagging tail and good intentions... Providing a source of support and sincerity that Shuichi has been starved of. Nose twitching as he studies the stack of papers in his grip, he shifts ever-so-slightly in his seat, resting further against the wolf without even realizing it. Lightly gnawing on the edge of his pencil, his poor companion's whines go barely noticed. Despite never purposely ignoring someone he cares about, being around Kaz is so wrapped in a sense of ❛ ease ❜ that the other has faded into the background. As normal as the papers in his hand and the pencil caught between bucked teeth, Kaz reduced to Shuichi's comfy spot.

Subconsciously angling his head, he lightly nuzzles against Kazuichi even as he emits a distracted hum, gaze not once lifting from his work. ❝ Uh-huh... ❞ He monotonely mutters, shuffling forward a new document to read over. 「 ☆ 」

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪꜰ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʜᴀɴɢᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʟʟᴇꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Shuichi IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴇᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴏɴ ꜰɪʀᴇ; ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴀʀᴍ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴏᴏɴ ʀᴀʙʙɪᴛ ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Shuichi 」 #wrinkled-sheets-and-sunlight #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇᴄʜᴀɴɪᴄ ❞ ¦ 「 Kazuichi 」 #shuichi and kazuichi tbt #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

[not-bcring]

✩ 「 @nickelsdrocs​ 」 ✩ - Continued from ★

「 ☆ 」 Snickering behind a hand at the stranger's confusion, green hues glitter with intrigue as the ebony-haired man finally realizes what's happening. Wondering how the other feels about the impromptu nickname thrown his way, Ayumu hopes it provides some sort of boost for the guy's ego. He looks like the type who doesn't get many of those. When one flirts as much as Ayumu does, they tend to learn how to spot an asshole. If anything, it doesn't seem to be upsetting the ❛ Big Guy ❜

In Ayumu's defense, nearly everyone is a big guy compared to him.

Peering through long lashes with an intrigued smirk, he makes no attempt to hide the way he studies the man as he walks over. Not a bad view, for sure. Sweat-glistened and confounded by Ayumu's antics... just the way he likes them~ Even though the point of this conversation is to get to the top of the tree, Ayumu spares a moment to imagine what it might be like to climb something else. Lightly nibbling a glossy bottom lip, wandering thoughts shine clearly upon a confidently-cheeky face even as he responds, ❝ Well... You've already noticed the tree. ❞

Gesturing at his body with a flourish of his arm, flirtatious expression falls in favor of something more playful. Tone following suit, it's surprisingly innocent as he laughs, ❝ And you've probably noticed I am not nearly tall enough to scale this thing. Not without help, anyway... That's where you come in. ❞ Pointing at the man with a finger gun, other hand rests on a cocked hip. Hand then motions at the tree behind him, head nodding along with it, ❝ I just need you to get me up to that lower branch and I can handle the rest. ❞

Despite the explanation— if it can even be called that —it's still unclear WHY Ayumu needs to climb that tree. But the smaller male just quirks a brow and teases, ❝ Think you can do that for me, Handsome?~ ❞ 「 ☆ 」

#not-bcring #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴ ɪɴ; ɪ ꜱʜᴏᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu IC 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴀʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀᴅʏ? ʜᴏʟᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏᴄᴜꜱ; ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴅʏ ❞ ◌ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴛᴀʟᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴇᴠ. ᴀᴜ ¦ 「 Ayumu 」 #nickelsdrocs #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴜʟᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇ ᴀꜱᴍʀɪꜱᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Daisuke 」 #♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪ ꜰɪʟʟᴇᴅ ᴀ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ ᴜᴘ ʟɪꜱᴛɪɴɢ; ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ❞ ¦ 「 Ayumu and Daisuke 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ɪꜱ ᴛᴀʙᴏᴏ; ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴀʀᴅʟʏ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」 #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴅɪɴɢ ᴅᴏɴɢ; ʙɪɴɢ ʙᴏɴɢ: ᴀ ʙᴏᴅʏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀᴇᴅ! ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」