#harerazor

[gravesung]

two-for-two on mfs either threatening to or following through with ripping off the damn wings. why is she attracted to these people.

[gravesung-moving]

✨🌼🌹

positivity meme! / accepting.

send ✨ and i'll recommend a multimuse blog

@harerazor — i won't be a broken record and talk about how close of pals me n reuben are, but i WILL say that their muse roster is literally just. straight BANGERS. (except none of them are str— *i am forcibly removed from the stage) like... god. idek where to start with reuben. the kindest and most patient rp partner (and person ooc, honestly) and such a ridiculously funny person too? amazing friend and INCREDIBLE WRITER. their oc altair is a league of his own. endlessly fascinating and complex and wild and such a fun catalyst for many many different types of dynamics??? right now i'm particularly gnawing on geto and altair just because they're so fucking Weird and i love chewing on them, but shoutout to our others as well. <3 AND THEIR CANONS!!!! MY GOD THEIR CANONS!!! i want to take their toji and shake him upside down for all of his coins. i want to rip him open and stitch him back up. iw ant to x-ray him. i want— <- this is all from both me and chiaki btw. i am super super super super excited to get into writing with their uraume on seph too, it's gonna be soooooooooo. [soung of crunching]

send 🌼 and i'll recommend a blog with beautiful writing

@koseigu — beautiful like a punch to the face. beautiful like the crack of a whip. i don't know how to describe tsari's writing in a way that fully conveys what i love so much about it, but it's so snappy in a way that pleases my brain SO MUCH to read? it feels like every word has a right to be there, it's meaty and chewy, it's so deeply steeped in the character that even the action and description feels like it's coming from the muse's eyes. not to mention our shared taste in literary references. KJDFHJKDS i've been enthralled by their writing from day one and it has not stopped. i love the way our writing styles play off of each other, i love the plot ideas we come up with, i love reading their threads on the dash even when they're not mine, it's just all around so delicious.

send 🌹 and i'll recommend a blog that makes me happy

@tewwor — writing with goose feels like coming home. that's the only way i can describe it. like there's such a comforting aura about her and her muses (maybe it's because we've been writing together for so long that we're basically like old roommates at this point.) literally just seeing her on the dash — not to mention connecting with and interacting with my other friends like the two above — genuinely fills me with warmth. soft. i cherish them so much and being active on tumblr rp without them would feel like being in an empty house >:'O

[favorskill-moved]

" BRIS. "

THE NUDGE doesn't come at first, but after a few seconds, it does arrive. KISMET gently touches @harerazor on the shoulder. " HUBRIS. you've been hunched over like that for hours. stretch a little. "

[huntershowl-moving]

unprompted for @harerazor ( altair ) because i love u.

❝ GONNA NEED YOU to back the fuck away. ❞

[deadlincs]

long day. slept like shit. managed his way through a couple of chores and setting up dinner after getting home despite the fact that he would probably be better suited sleeping at this very moment. too much. time to collapse. atsuya locates the big dark lump of fur on his sofa and promptly shoves his face into the panther-sized flank with a groan. he will not be moving for the foreseeable future. (bakeneko auuuuuu. some sillies to balance out the . looks at ur inbox. those :] )

waow ... so nice to me for once ..... — @harerazor

Less rare are the times where his mind is completely distended from a morphed body. Shifting without meaning to still happens, of course, but the time of which he's able to think as himself has shortened. It's not perfect ( Hiromi still lacks the wherewithal to consistently take care of himself ), but far better than when their paths first clashed.

Now he's able to lounge while being fully aware of his own actions. Though, perhaps it can be seen as a double edged sword. There's not much he can really do in a state like this. He can't work, for one — not efficiently, at least. While technically possible, these paws hinder more than aid when it comes to taking notes or answering emails. So he actually rests in hopes it'll speed up the process to rehumanize himself.

By the time his ... housemate? Temporary landlord? Bedside pal? Boon and buff companion? — settles down, it's well into the evening. A rolling chuff ( more like a disgruntled moo ) greets such attention. One eye blinks open and he huffs again. Goes to raise a heavy paw to lay over a shoulder before craning his fat head over. He's not urging Atusya off, but rather the opposite. Stay all he wants, it's more than well deserved. But he is going to rasp a tongue over that brush of hair in an attempt to groom.

[crowshoots]

@harerazor liked for a starter!

JESPER IS DELIGHTED. there is no other label which fits the thrum in his ears, the roar of his heart, the energy crackling through him. it's some early morning hour; he can hear the bells far off in the distance, chiming some number. jesper's more preoccupied by the sight before him, though. he crouches next to the nearest unconscious body, rifles through their pockets, comes up with nothing. then, she tilts her head and catches altair’s gaze. when jesper grins, it's still stunning despite the blood underneath her nose. " how's my mug, after all that? "

[dreams1nc]

        THE TASTE IS CLOYING, sticking to the roof of his mouth, enough that the tip of his pink tongue darts out. Laughter, albeit muffled traces across pale features, the fear that resides in the gut momentarily vanishes. The weight of responsibility && the crown of Lucis grows heavier, days to come where the land will sing harmoniously, a union, a union foretold by the Astrals. By decree, the King && Oracle must move as one to combat against the encroaching darkness, bringing forth the new dawn - he knows the stories, it’s been his entire life, still his nerves are set ablaze. “How do you even swallow this, Iggy?” he’s childishly grinning, the sour expression having vanished, just for a few seconds so he thinks.

                          “Hard to believe in a few days we’ll be on the road, it’s exciting, right @harerazor?”  

[w4rningbutterflies]

❛ i wouldn't leave you if you let me. ❜ (handing u uraume for sukuna :3c)

He pauses, hand stretched out toward the handle of the doorway. The winter snow has begun to make its way around the areas of the temples, coating it in a cold that he has long since become acquainted with. Still –– it makes him pause, hearing their words. Words that shouldn't be coming from them, not when he has given them a choice. They've become old enough to walk away now, to no longer serve him, to find their own purpose in the world. It's only right to give them the choice to leave. And yet...yet.

He has grown acquainted with their cold as well, the power that breams off of them in waves something intoxicating and intriguing all at once. When he had found them, he hadn't expected a bond that would transcend. However, here they are, and he does not have the heart to keep his back toward them. They have given everything and done whatever he has asked without question. He wonders if this is some sort of stockholm syndrome, but he doubts it. He has never once trapped them into servitude –– they have chosen to remain by his side, even with the threat of the sorcerers on the horizons.

"If you remain, I cannot promise your safety." His words are careful, clipped; there's something painful in his chest at the thought of Uraume being hurt. Of harm befalling them because of the sorcerers that have been preparing for war. They are one of the strongest that he knows of, and it has been an honor to train their power, watch it flourish. But Ryomen is not the selfish curse that most think him of. No, Uraume has shown their loyalty and he will not step back from it, will not meet it with unkindness when they deserve so much more.

He turns to face them, eyes careful as he takes them in. "You are sure of your decision?" It's a last ditch effort, a way to give them their way out –– it's the right thing to do, and he does not know what hell would be unleashed if they were harmed.

[crowshoots-moved]

@harerazor wants jesper being a little asshole

ㅤㅤ" PRETTY SURE I remember the red crowns having no skill with racin'. you any better than the guy of yours i beat last week? "

[gravesung]

[ B E S T I A R Y . A R K ] NEW ENTITY ADDED: >TWITCH CHAT CLASSIFICATION: HIVEMIND, DIGITAL CREATION METHOD: COLLECTIVE BEHAVIOR SENTIENCE: SENTIENT THREAT LEVEL: VARIABLE CLEARANCE LEVEL: GREEN

[ B E S T I A R Y . A R K ] NEW ENTITY ADDED: >THE ALGORITHM CLASSIFICATION: DEITY, DIGITAL CREATION METHOD: COLLECTIVE BELIEF SENTIENCE: SEMI-SENTIENT THREAT LEVEL: 4 CLEARANCE LEVEL: GREEN

[howlrs]

☠ (from toji)

manhandling the seph. // @harerazor ( toji fushiguro ) ☠ - slam my muse into a wall

HIT IT FAST AND HARD, before it can react. always a good rule of thumb when you're dealing with a hellhound. you want to get in close enough that guns are out of the question, close enough that you're not really in melee range anymore, kill the momentum to minimize the force of their blows — few can pull that off when the beast in question is faster than most people, though.

good thing toji fushiguro is not most people.

it happens in the span of a single blink. her scapulae hit first. reinforced with steel, they absorb the shock even as the air is knocked from her lungs. the force ripples. something cracks in her chest — collarbone, maybe a few ribs along with it. the plaster behind her splinters, too, frames their pinned body like a fucked up spiderweb. like a halo.

body on autopilot. body more weapon than organism. by the time her eyes adjust, one arm's already dug a serrated hunting knife deep into fushiguro's abdomen and twisted. dark and wild, her eyes fix on his and do not waver. but she does not move to escape the forearm barring her in by the collar. ( he's so close they can feel his breath on their cheeks. ) they push into the hold, press closer. the breaking of bones has not mattered to hellhound in a very long time; pain does little for her but spur her on, piss her off harder, turn a feral thing more deranged than deranged.

she does not attempt one of the myriad hold-breaks she has learned over the years, does not move to break a kneecap or slip away or fight, really, though they both know how well she could. instead, with an animal growl, her head pitches forward and her wolf's-teeth sink into the tendons at the base of his neck.

there is an intimacy to this, in a way, though it is an intimacy they would never admit to. the depth to which you learn about someone by fighting them again and again and again. the way you settle into each other's skin. she doesn't like it. she can't stop it.

[gravesung-moving]

@harerazor ( toji. )

unprompted. haha. <3

❝ IT'S BEEN A WEEK. ❞ SHE INTERCEPTS him in the hallway, direct as ever — despite the ease with which toji could simply lift her with one hand and move her to the side, she has the air of someone who very much could stop him from moving by standing in front of him. ❝ the verdict has been reached. are you ready to hear it? ❞

[brazenlystrong]

👉 Point to something for my muse to see (i offer one [1] haibara! student or adult, dealer's choice :>)

Nonverbal RP Starters // @harerazor

The festival is alive with color and sound, a sensory feast stretching as far as the eye can see. Paper lanterns in warm reds, oranges, and yellows sway gently overhead, their soft glow casting dancing shadows across the cobblestone streets. Stalls line either side of the square, offering everything from steaming trays of takoyaki to delicate sugar-sculpted animals. The enticing aroma of grilled skewers mingles with the sweet scent of cotton candy, filling the air with a mouthwatering blend.

The students navigate through the bustling crowd, weaving between clusters of festival-goers. Satoru can hear the sound of Haibara's voice from behind as he looks back to see his face alight with curiosity as he points out various stalls and attractions, his enthusiasm infectious.

And then, a hand near Gojo'd face points at the centerpiece of the festival. At the heart of the square is a massive water fountain, the focal point of everyone’s attention. It erupts in a cascade of shimmering water, illuminated by colorful lights that shift in rhythm with a traditional festival melody. The patterns are mesmerizing—water dances in perfect synchronization with the music, forming delicate lotus shapes, followed by intricate spirals that seem to defy gravity.

Gojo stands with one hand holding a sugar-sculpted leopard, his sunglasses reflecting the lights from the fountain. He lets out a soft chuckle. “ Now that’s flashy. ” The lively chatter of the crowd and the distant gasps in awe frame the unforgettable scene. Something they all will talk about for days on end.

[huntershowl-moving]

❝  i have weathered the anger of gods before.  ❞ (kenjaku post kirby-inhale)

THE TETHER LIKE A SICK THING. like a pulsing wire, like an umbilical cord that cannot be cut. the hound circles him in a way that is in equal measure aggressive and protective, because there will never be anything but this: always the urge to guard, the inevitable following of orders.

wolf to woman, four legs wrapped in smoke to two stepping out of it. and a dark-eyed glare, cut with something else. (always. always.) ❝ not like this one. ❞

she knew satoru gojo back in the day. he was her friend. the poison that spills from her tongue hurts coming up, but that pain is washed over by numbless soon enough. it doesn't matter. nothing matters. fuck it all.

❝ you're banking a hell of a lot on one reaction. you sure you want to take that risk? ❞

[deadlincs]

one (1) higu-styled rubber ducky placed on his desk by haibara. and then a kusa ducky. and a nanami one. and a haibara one. he got duckies of the swinger-polycule made and they are now entrusted to one (1) tired lawyer.

unprompted and not mean for once wow — @harerazor

"...!!!!"

Shock bolts through Hiromi and nearly strikes him down at the doorway. There, at the edge of his overly cluttered desk ( it's always a work in progress ), sits four little figures. Each one meticulously done up with distinct features that nearly has him doubling over. Oh, this is priceless. Picture worthy in the very least and display mandated at most.

It feels a little silly to rearrange the rubber ducks into a U formation. Honestly, it is ridiculous to do anything other than take notice and move on. Yet each one is positioned for a picture to be shared with the group chat.

[ 🌻 → 🍭 🍞 🍙 ]: You might be wondering why I've gathered you all here today... Well, I am too. So your guess is as good as mine, but I hope whoever did this will step forward and fess up... [ 🍞 → 🌻🍞 🍙 ]: ... My hair isn't styled like that.

[shishitoren-vc]

@harerazor \\ Tsu! (bofurin au)

He had been kicked out ... left to fend for himself in a world that wouldn't accept him for the atrocities he committed. Or so he thought. Umemiya had been kind enough to take him under his wing and into Furin's arms, but that didn't erase the deep seated pain of losing the one he cared about the most. He had been deeply devoted to Choji, he had done everything for him... only for the man to turn around and cast Togame aside like it was nothing.

Now? Togame didn't know what to do or who to be anymore, lost to the world like an abandoned puppy on the side of the road.

Everybody around him seemed to give him a wide berth... except for one person: Tsu-something. He couldn't remember their name, despite the fact he was walking along side them now, wandering the streets together...

"What are we doing again?" he asks, his words slower and spoken with purpose