Be not afraid of Kiryu's old man pussy
DO YOU NOT REALISE HOW SCARY IT IS TO HAVE THAT THING COMING RIGHT AT YOU
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rocking back and forth muttering to myself people can have their own opinions everybody likes different traits in a character its not that big of a deal its okay its okay its okay its okay its okay its okay its okay its oka
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why don't i draw you a bath? ( eden! )
@yanwangye
for a moment, she's a girl again--or at least a shape like a girl--unmoored, unmolded, neither being nor thing. there is a hand on her shoulder, and there is someone at the door, and then there is nothing, nothing at all. if there was ever a girl. if there was ever a door. her mind feels thick, head too heavy, ears still ringing. had she the world and time enough, she could make sense of it all, but she has nothing but her hands, her aching fingerbones. her ringing ears. stop. how long until it stops? the spinning, the sliding, the void. calling. calling for her to return. she wants to crawl back into the earth. she wants to be taken back now, into the dirt. below.
someone reaches for her and she jumps, hindbrain screaming danger and then-- the voice, far more solid, sure of itself, than her own. there are words, but they pound on her skull like muffled drums. like she's ten feet under water. enough. enough of this.
she sees herself in a faded reflection to the side. long, black curls, haggard and twisted about her like vines. dirt on her cheek. blood sticky under her torn, muddy, wretched clothes. she watches herself: frown, heavy of brow, chin jutted, teeth grinding in her skull. a bruise is already forming on her forehead. a cut below her chin. she doesn't care; it's barely anything at all, nothing like the rending of the mind.
she wills herself to focus, like taking a knife to the throat, just in time to hear the final shape of his sentence -- why don't i draw you a bath? and snaps her head to the side, facing him--him--you--you you you--head on. she's shaking, heart pounding. how strange. she never gets cold. is this panic? the air gets shallow, shallower, until it doesn't come at all. the lights flicker, dim. fading. the corners elongate and shiver with her every blink.
she swallows hard: "what do you want?" she finally says, throaty and rough. if she were smarter, she would take the kindness--but she knows kindness like a hot iron to the cauterized wound, not this... whatever it is. nothing is freely given, no smile is offered without a dagger behind the back. and more than that, more than anything, she knows what she is-- no. no. she knows what she was.
"why are you doing this? I have nothing to offer you." nothing but my hands. and nowhere else to go. someone's dark creature. a sword in a hand, now a sword discarded. a bomb set and tossed aside. she wants to be taken in hand. she wants to tear joints off with her teeth. but in all of this, she wants to think she keeps her voice contained, hard, frightening even. "you gain nothing. I should go now, before I do something I..." would regret? when has she regretted death? "I shouldn't."
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it went from being 80 to 50 degrees in a day no wonder my sinuses are begging for mercy
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i just took a shower and y’all are putting lee all over the dash :(
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every time i get into something new i never look in the tag or at any random fans i trust my mutuals and followers to tell me anything i need to know
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