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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
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#extradirty
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@ccynophobia-blog
I lived, bitch.
Apparently the bird now has a canon name, but I have grown far too attached to “Bastard” so I follow My Own Canon.
Send “#b” and I’ll shuffle my music player, and use my favorite line from the next song as a starter!
Apologies for my absence across blogs, I was hit with a bad wave of Depression and just havent had a lot of energy to write with what time I have.
I dropped it late at night bc I always do but follow my oc @ccompulsion
Hey the themes not done but you should follow me.
I’ve come to the conclusion that none of you fear god
me addressing the huge fucking geese sleeping and shitting in front of the entrance to my college
Also hey like this and when I get home I’ll write up a custom tag for you when I get home if I’m not awful
FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS : BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION
rules : bold what applies to your muse and repost .
SNOW WHITE. jade trinkets in boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass. THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet. walking for days. flowing gowns. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights. THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere. BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves. treasures from far away lands. dragged by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs. THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns. LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.
Tagged by: Stolen from my own blog Tagging: You!
“Close combat gets messy”
* / STARTER - @ccynophobia.
mirages shakily takes a deep breath , SEETHING through his teeth whilst sweat poured from his temples. darkened hues glace over the cement wall protecting him from a BARRAGE of bullets ; he got lucky , because a stray bullet merely GRAZES the side of his right cheek. it’s enough to have him slam back against the wall , forcibly placing a palm against his face. he stares at bloodhound , whose hiding on the other side of the opening. if he wants to get across , he’s gonna have to send out a decoy & hope they’re stupid enough to fall for it. a tense hand clutched the grip of his .301 as the other pointed out to the open field . “ sending out a decoy ! “ there was a brief moment as he waited , watching the decoy rushing into the field. a moment of relief befell him as he watched the enemies shoot at the decoy. nows the time. mirage sprints to get across the opening , glancing periodically at the other him getting shot at. it seemed to be working - up until he feels a piercing feeling rip through his left bicep. ‘ AH —– – FUCK ! ‘ the man stumbles to the ground for the briefest of moments , gritting his teeth to the point he feels like they might shatter. he manages to get across the opening , barely. mirage fumbles to the ground before bloodhound while gripping his bloodied arm.
They waited, throwing out an arc star the moment Mirage sent out his copy, and laying down covering fire to give their remaining teammate any chance he had, a masked smirk forming as they saw the bullets connect. The Bloodhound had gone mostly unscathed in this encounter, and their ultimate glowed temptingly on the screen of their UI. They could rush in, finish this fight, victory was moments away and they could taste—
A gunshot sounded, and thunderous sound they could feel in their chest and in the vibrations in the ground as the bullet passed through their teammate, staining the soil red.
Sniper.
The Bloodhound wasted no time in dragging Mirage further behind cover, glancing out as far as they dared to try and locate where the shot came from, but ducked again when the previous threats shot back at them. This wasn’t good.
“We are going to need to run.” They were at too big a disadvantage, this fact becoming especially obvious when the Bloodhound only had shield cells to provide for Mirage, and not even any proper first aid. “I can try to distract the two closest to us momentarily, but I can do nothing about the sniper. Do you think you can make it to those buildings?”
corrodent replied to your post: I refuse to provide any context for that.
you’re just trying to hide your own guilt
I have done NOTHING WRONG in my life, EVER.
I refuse to provide any context for that.
@corrodent
