a whisper in your ear, @kosodate - Tumblr Blog

that white hand on your shoulder, i'm just imagining it... / an independent multimuse rp blog. penned by lucian, rules and roster under cut. affiliates: @4dearlife | @entomic / @unwanting | @ilstar | @hatefueled / @corvidicto / @ouratelier / @hamartiah / @utsubotm ( and all kerokero shaped blogs )

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#pinned.

dainsleit

sebastian voice hey girl do you like #tuff guys <- has a shadow the hedgehog temporary tattoo on his bicep

#save.#fave.#img: sebastian.#ic: sebastian.#my seabibis...........#this has been killing me thank you i love them so much. his stupid ass #dainsleit

[waking up in the middle of the forest] shidou,

#ooc.#dear god. okay. i'll try to come back

flicks vespers forhead

"ow-- hey!" bullseye! boothill's flick lands its mark, skin aching from the impact. the trailblazer of the stars pouts in an all-too mature manner, hand brought up to shield his forehead further from any spare rounds of the ranger's customary ribbing. "what was that for?"

#ic: vesper.#hatefueled #You.....................#i don't remember my vesper psd so i fear we ball without icons for right now

got jumpscared by my own blog. like who was this reblogging reca. oh that's just me

#ooc.#tbd /

okay going to get things done here this week... hopefully.

#hi guys it's been a hot minute :') i hope you've all been well!#it's quiet here for a week so that's optimal time to get writing #i may move some muses to this blog and add some #ooc.#tbd /

pearbosc

You haven’t been watching the dark corners of the world. Maybe living in a palace has made you soft.

#img: hubert.

smellroy

I love 2 draw Hubert

#sighs wistfully #img: hubert.

alive! slowly but surely. i want to get back to things here... somewhere, maybe

#waffling between being on here or on reca. but i miss writing #ooc.#tbd /

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favourite blogs. it's time to spread positivity! (hi you,,,,)

YOU.... i'm tossing a thousand of these right back at you!

#ooc.#asks.#you are So sweet.... you could make jen jam #this is such a delight to see ;_; pardon my answering from mobile

weltenwellen

Franz Kafka, Diaries, 1910-1913

#study: volo.

About Bibi (For Sebastian)

prompt: voice lines / always accepting.

about bibi 1: "Ah, my trusted business partner! I'd stay out of her way if I were you. Or don't. I want front row seats to her mowing you down. (chuckle)"

about bibi 2: "Familiar with the saying 'keep your enemies close', friend? It's missing out on one teenie, tiny anecdote: keep your assets closest. She's like a trusty pocket knife... Eugh. That goes for all the cuts left on my fingers, to boot."

about bibi 3: "I'll give the girl one thing: her taste in music isn't bad. Not at all. ...Hm. (to himself) Wonder if she's been to any concerts."

bonus.

#your seabibis #mybibis #ic: sebastian.#v: hsr.#asks.#prompt: voice lines.

killdivine-a

" Sagiso was it? " she hums, setting a steaming cup of tea in from of him. Her Mimikyu can be seen nearby, following after her like a shadow. " You mentioned you travel quite a lot, no? Where are you from? " question offered between them, as she takes her seat across from him.

@kosodate / sc ( sagiso )

kosodate

"that's me~ ☆ all the way from hoenn," he's about as wise to these idle formalities as oil is to the salty hoeann coastline. pleasantries over tea weren't a passing luxury he was afforded; his etiquette is sloppy as he sits there, cross-legged, bouncing a few fingers against a bony knee. he'd been eyeing her mimikyu out of his peripherals, having long since felt it before it made its presence known, up until she snags his attention with the clink of the cup set before him. ...ah. he stares at the tea like something might bubble and burst from its brown waters, squirming, fidgeting, fussing, in his seat. something about how serene this is distills him, and he thinks of old folktales of younger travelers tumbling into witches homes, fingers trembling as he plucks up his customary drink. a grin is shot over the rim, eyes flicking back to wuya's more sedentary expression. "you know mt. pyre? i was born there, believe it or no--"

from the depths of his own shadow, a sharp pinch is delivered to his side, and he scrambles not to spill his tea.

"--いていていて--! okay okay!" a glower goes to his shadow next, spirits soured as he rolls his eyes with a pout. "some small village. less interesting, more boring."

#ic: sagiso.#killdivine #v: pokemon.#lets Go

lighter? out of fuel. matches? all run out, and the few he's struck have had too pathetic a flame. what's a guy to do when he's down on his luck and a cigarette needs to be lit?

grouch, grumble, tsk about it all to get the woe out: these are all part of the process. the next? ...he's straddling a windowsill, precariously balancing a cigarette between his good fingers. with one foot over the threshold, he ducks down to get a light off of... someone's iron press they left on?

well, hey, if it isn't broke, don't fix it.

#remembered this image. added an image to his pinboard. felt inspired #ic: greg.#open.#<- ??????????????? if you can work off of this sure

things are okay with me these days . fuuta for shidou (':

prompt: the stranger / accepting.

these days... what a monotonous concept. it feels like time has stayed in stasis, the death of time put on ice. packed away, wrapped up, left to sit in a state of never-rot.

shidou looks up from where he's been at work, pen stalling over the clipboard he'd been filling out. each prisoner was to undergo routine check-in's, starting from most injured to least. fuuta was not far down the line, and the memory of his chattering teeth and battered eye still stick in the back of his mind, ugly as the welts dealt by kotoko's knuckle-branded justice.

the response should relieve him, shidou thinks. but it sticks to the back of his throat uneasily, brows gently furrowing. filled as his days are, he's not deaf to the talk that fills the halls. amane-chan is changing, isn't she? --ah, fuuta-kun's been following her around a lot, hasn't he? the prisoners had chattered, and he thinks, in his moments between awake and asleep, he's heard other voices filling the emptied spaces of the cots.

he could never make them out, translate them, pay them mind of his precious hour's time. work was to be done, there were far more important things afoot.

too much ink spills onto the page, shidou belatedly realizes, and hastily, he lifts the pen. a dripping, bleeding blot is left on the record, a sight that earns a frown. how familiar. his eyes, heavy and weary as they roll up, give fuuta another once-over, his hair combed out of its messy knots, and he realizes this is the first time he's seen fuuta start to smile.

dr. kirisaki misdiagnoses the tug on his heartstrings as that should-be, belated relief.

"...kajiyama-kun, it brings me joy to hear you're recovering... may it stay that way. but, your eye..." the clipboard is set aside. "should remain covered with the necessary gauze. it won't heal, otherwise..."

#hi ray 8')#entomic #entomic: fuuta.#ic: shidou.#v: t2.#technically. imagining this between 2 and 3. for reasons #asks.#prompts: the stranger.#bro who is that bell tolling for #remembering that convo where he was like oh kotoko youre just worried... :) youre a kind person

i didn't know you could look so nice after so much time . for sagiso hehe

prompt: the stranger / accepting.

"huh?" he blinks once, twice. stops. starts again, like he has to chew on those words a tad longer, struggling to get them down in one mouthful. his throat feels sticky, chock full of molasses. then, as though he's having even more trouble spitting the words out, regurgitating his response: "huh?"

nice, he says, one little word - and that's all it takes off eiji's tongue to make sagiso bristle, worming past his skin to strike a nerve. he throws a look left, right, as though searching for a few errant eyes to share his incredulous look of disbelief. can you believe this guy? sagiso can't. won't! eiji is always countering him with those sunny smiles, but there's an intensity to his gaze that feels arrow-precise, scouring for... what? what is he looking for? it feels like it's trying to salvage something from the wreckage of his ribs, like he wouldn't shove his hands in-between all the battered spaces, and instead would treat him tenderly. his lungs burn self-consciously, and he flicks the thought like a marble until it gets lost in the gutter.

maybe it's in his head. maybe, comes the next thought tumbling, crashing into the other, he's getting too deep a read on this guy. maybe he hasn't even begun to scratch the surface. theory after theory piles up, heaven-high, and it throws sagiso out of sorts. fills his blood with a nervous energy, and on the first jittering impulse, he acts, as always, without thought. his heart is blaring until his head swims - give me some space, get away from me! - but he steps into eiji's space, trying to act like he isn't rattled, frazzled, fuming. two hands reach out, one jabbing his own cheek pointedly as if to say what? this face? nice? huh? and the other digging a thumb into eiji's cheek to pull his smile a little wider, a little higher.

"you should get your eyes checked, ji-chan. not unlike you with all your smiles, huh? do you ever stop doing that?"

it's infuriating to look at.

#ic: sagiso.#unwanting #asks.#BEAR WITH ME I'M TRYING TO REMEMBER THE WAY EIJI IS #i remembered us talking about the impossible force vs unmovable object thing and got sick

leox-un

the red doesnt wash out so easy

#okay. alright. i miss him. what of it #img: stein.

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a whisper in your ear,