it spirals in a million waves. the cobalt slithers across her skin, colliding with the beige of that same porcelain. the lack of colour eats away at the fibres of her very stature: reptilian-like in it's way. the metallic slinging of the floor beneath her hums to the beat of her heart. it's cold and obsolete, uneasy to follow. one step, two steps. badum, badum. just scarcely she had beaten the rain pour, though she will have to leave soon regardless. while raven thinks she's alone, what she doesn't realise is that her starstudded pair of eyes will find themselves glaring uncomfortably at a particular red, white and blue blend soon enough. america's s̶w̶e̶e̸t̶h̶e̶a̶r̸t̶. shrouded in his coat of arms. “ oh. you're here. [like poison, the words seethe and ache and chitter from her teeth. almost like a vibration: a humming...] well, are you sure you're supposed to be? ”
@pravica , /
an unsatisfied traipse to the other side of the room, meters become inches ... closely, closely she forgoes that of her traditional hide (that porcelain isn't real!) ... “ i figured this would be a solo mission at least. he knows i like to work alone. ” she bites down like a bad dog. she could say so many things, but she won't. she'd rather leave the ambience of, at least, 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚜𝚘. 𝗜𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗧𝗢𝗢 𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗗.
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[ 23:46 ] - suguru geto
it’s nearly midnight when you step out of the izakaya, your steps heavy and mind hazy. one of your hands reach out to support your weight on a wooden pillar, and you take a moment to breathe and rein in your consciousness.
you blink up at the izakaya’s entrance lighting, a yellow hue contrasting across the planes of your face, the izakaya’s wooden sign swaying silently in tokyo’s midnight breeze.
you’ve been here more times than you’d like to admit—usually during nights like these, when your head wanders too far and your heartstrings feel like they might just snap at the slightest touch.
you’d stumbled across this place on accident one desperate sunset, needing somewhere to carve out that hurt.
so far, it worked.
up until two months ago, that is.
you had first felt that presence that one night you were about to walk the twenty-minute distance back home, but had brushed it off as the alcohol making its way to your head.
‘it’s nothing,’ you had convinced yourself.
but the next time you felt it again. and then again. and then again.
that’s ending tonight, though. you were tired of that little voice in your head always telling you to look over your shoulder, to check.
so instinct moves your feet forward, stepping towards the entrance of the street’s darkened alleyway.
and there it is—a figure.
your tipsy state really wasn’t helping the fact that the figure seems to be blending with the shadows, and you almost take another step forward when the figure slightly retreats back further into the darkness.
almost. and it hits you then.
“suguru.”
and he physically stills.
you should have known.
should have known it was him all along. that the instinct you felt was not really instinct at all, but habit.
“how long are you going to keep this up?”
it’s silent for a moment, before suguru geto steps out towards you, stopping a couple feet away. his gaze drags across your face, dropping lower at your lips, then back up again.
“i forgot how beautiful you were.” he says.
you release a breath of disbelief, opening your mouth to argue, when he continues.
“i’ve always known you were beautiful,” suguru raises a hand, as if to brush your hair out of your face, but halts mid-air. “it seems i forgot how much.”
“you didn’t answer my question.”
he drops his hand.
“as long as it takes.”
“for what, suguru?” you take a step back, mind beginning to clear now.
“for me to know you’ll always get home safe.”
you look at him then. actually, look at him.
his eyes are a shade darker than when you had last seen him, ebony hair now much longer than it was. it’s like it’s him, but not really. not anymore.
“you don’t get to decide that, suguru. you left.” you point your index finger at him, seething with pent up rage and grief. “you left your old life behind, left me behind. and now after a year you’re doing this?”
suguru inhales a breath, as if readying himself to explain. but you don’t let him.
“you left without warning, no letters, no calls. nothing.” tears begin to prick your eyes, and you tilt your head to the sky, as if to take them back in. “imagine what i felt when i saw that execution report.”
“i know.” suguru decides against explaining then, instead allowing you this moment to lash out—he deserves this, anyway. “i’m sorry.”
“no, you don’t get to apologize.” you reach your hands out onto his chest, and push back.
you ignore how warm his body is under your palms, how familiar yet distant the contact feels. how much your fingers want to pull him in instead of pushing back. but you do.
“you left me grieving over someone who was still alive. someone who meant the world to me.”
you continue to push, push, and push his body back towards the shadows, back to where you won’t have to see him, and he lets you.
“and while i was out there barely continuing life without you, you were off to god knows where with no sense of guilt.”
“i was always with you, sweetheart.” suguru takes ahold of your wrists, halting your efforts to push any further. and his eyes soften when you finally look at him again. “you never knew, i made sure of that. but i’m always with you.”
and he pauses for a second, as if contemplating tonight.
“forgive me, sweetheart.”
“forgive you for which part?” you jerk your wrist away, but he holds on.
“for this part.” and he kisses you, one hand moving up to tilt your face towards his.
it’s raw, his kiss. it’s brimming with months and months of all the stages of grief, of wanting, of all the things left unsaid.
you know you should push him away again, pry yourself out of his hold, but a broken part of you misses this—misses him.
“you left. you left. you left.” you repeat, over and over, fingers clutching at his shirt.
and suguru repeats back i knows and i’m sorrys, over and over again, more times than you can count.
he’ll say it a hundred times more if that’s what it would take for you to believe him. a thousand times more.
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♡♡introooo!!! ---- (≧▽≦)//
woah!! hii!! welcome to my blog!! whaaat!??!! (°ロ°) !
this was made cause i think aggressive anon and worm are really cool and i really liked the idea of making an anon blog, i think was the word?? (and i'm too nervous to just talk on my main),, so yay!! credits to them :DD
i'm really anxious and i'm scared of social interaction,, but with the shield of anon, i feel a little bit more confident now!! yippeee!!! (≧▽≦) (≧▽≦) !!!
pronouns are she/they,, and also BOO!! AGE REVEAL!! i'm 14 WOAHHH!!! GAHH!!!! Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°)
please please please tell me if anything i do or say upsets or hurts anyone,, it's kinda hard for me to tell tones and i don't wanna be mean or insensitive or anything,, so by all means,, call me out!!
uhhmm,, uhhh,,,, i like art and music and and aaaand turtles that are teenagers and mutants and who also, possibly, maybe live in the sewers (/j) feel free to talk to me about literally anythinggg!!╰(*´︶`*)╯
i think i'll just kinda,, sit here, i guess?? i'll use this to reblog stuffs and post random whatevers,, i will probably pop up somewhere and actually get the somewhat confidence to show my appreciation towards a couple people i've been following on my main that i was too nervous to talk to sooo yah!! im so sorry for making this so long, this took me a while to get the courage to post,, thank you for reading!!!
edit!! i changed my prns from she/her to she/they!! going to try it out for a little and see if it feels right (*´▽`*)!!
tags!!!;; #kittykitty interactions , #kittykitty reblogs , #kittykitty art , #kittykitty asks , #kittykitty rambles , #kittykitty yaps , #kittykitty treasures , #kittykitty hoards , #kittykitty writes
my amazing mooties' tags!!!!;; #rocky!! rocky!!! , #zeepie beepie!!! zeepie deepie!!!! , #big sib aggie!!! , #omg hi frankie!!! hiii!!!! , #woah!! chip is here!! hi chip!!!! // #chippy chip chipper chippzie!! , #the wormiest worm ever!!! , #finnie forevermore!!! finley!!! finn!!! , #woah!! its lykaios!! hii!! , #skrap-a-skrip!! ,, #the loveliest amor!!
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Continue from here. @godstrayed
Attacking the White House was such a bad idea, how he got too cocky like this?! it was just a start for the company's downfall and soon, he had lost everything, the government changed to martial law after he killed Victoria.. only because he got paranoid, people becoming aggressive toward supes and everywhere around the country, they were hunting for people with V. blue V found a way in black marketing and it's why John is here, finally finding a clue after months living incognito between the people. oh, he's about to build the company from the zero with his bare hands.
This asshole of course, the very responsible man selling, John has his doubt he's also making illegal version of V too, is one of scavengers named 'Negan' and John didn't hesitate to introduce himself, trying to scare the man to hand him the V like a good boy.
He rolls his eyes "yeah, that was the worst thing I've ever done and it's why I'm here for.. I want to remedy the wound I left on this people by fixing all the mistakes and first thing I'm about to do is getting back the blue V out of street-trashes' hands like you" he knows it's not good place to get physical, considering the police force is after him too like hunting dogs but he'll use his powers if the man's determined on his stupidity.
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"Jeez, I don't even wanna know how you got that battle wound there; sit down and let me fix it up, won't you?"
@swanprincessodette
"Ah--" He flinched slightly at the brush of fingers against the wound. "I got into a swordfight with a toad. I suppose I could have changed sizes and stepped on him… but it didn't seem sporting." Cornelius's natural form was around three inches tall, but the fae's magic was capable of making him human-sized, provided he was content to be earthbound. His wings wouldn't carry him at this size, and they faded into a lovely gold tattoo on his back.
"Thank you, Odette. That is kind of you." He sat, shrugging gently out of his jacket so she could attend to the injury. A swordfight didn't explain the nasty burn. He'd neglected to mention that the toad was fighting with a torch, not a sword, but he felt silly enough about it as it was. He'd never gotten along with toads after they kidnapped Thumbelina. It didn't matter that he'd found her and they'd parted friends. They'd still rubbed him the wrong way ever since.
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