♚ ɢ ᴇ ɴ ᴇ ʀ ᴀ ʟ @sadiisticx - Tumblr Blog

I'm putting this blog on an indefinite hiatus

Why? Plenty of reasons why. Let's start with I'm a failure. I can't keep anything to be constant. I am not even a constant. I can be replaced so, find yourself another Esdeath because this one is dead.

#psa.

#psa. ff type-0 intro can kill you #how? it makes you have multiple orgasms and cry afterwards #if that doesn't kill you idk what does #kbye

nobilityprince

Alright guys. Remember the apostrophe we put under tumblr_blog as a cheat to make it appear with a blockquote? LOL! Look at your own dash now. Not the home dash…but your blog dash. Look at it. I’ve been laughing at it for several minutes already. A N Y W A Y, since it’s all screwed and stuff, if you have replied to me please tell me so i can come and hunt it down. Remember to tag my url in the post so it’d be easier for me to hunt it down. Thank you :)

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ because i cant be bothered making a new post ]#[ so im using the one from my second blog ]#[ YEA I DONT LIKE TUMBLR AT ALL NOW ]

korojustice-deactivated20160601

sadiisticx [ Repair ]

sadiisticx

Sᴇʀʏᴜᴜ:

The Jaeger of the special police force was sitting in the garden area hoping no one would find her today. She was out on patrol when she ran into some punks attacking a person and trying to steal from the victim. Naturally she leaped into action, but it turns out the thieves were actually suggesting they were taking back what was stolen from them. Well they decided to act with evil so Seryu delivered punishment on them. Her weapon cut their heads off making them roll on the ground.

Believing she was done the girl walked away only to be attacked by the man she had “saved” from the evildoers. He began to take hold of her arms and body wanting to harm her, and taking anything of value. She realized what was going on as her beloved pet Koro devoured the man before he could do anything worse. As she came home she noticed some screws had been loosened by the attack.

Now she was sitting on the grass trying to repair her metal arms, but that’s when the tears began to fall. She realized she was hoping to fix what happened to her today. She was meant to serve good and do things in the name of justice, but yet she had to kill everyone she met today and even worse one said claimed to be innocent. Both sides were wrong and had to be killed or did they?

“W-hat is justice?” She asked herself feeling Koro rub against her leg trying to comfort it’s master. She was weeping harder now wanting no one to see here in such a weak state of mind. Her ideals were now being put into question, and she was struggling to stay in control. She was unable to fix the damage on her mind unlike her body. She was consumed by these events Seryu forgot to give this report to her superior in Esdeath.

It has been far past midnight that she had gone out for patrol. Everyone has returned & given her their reports before excusing themselves into their quarters except for one. While the fearsome General doesn't show any ounce of worries when it comes to her comrades, HOWEVER, she has lost too many to count. Not only that, she believes that the JAEGERS are a formidable group, so losing even one more person would jeopardize the power growth. She needs them not because she is weak. She needs them because they have BECOME parts of her. Thus, losing one of them would mean LOSING a part of her & she distastes the feel of it --especially when the only thing she could ever allow herself to feel is pain. So with the clock struck pass midnight, Esdeath has presumes that SERYUU has gotten herself into trouble. The thought of it doesn't settle well with her, especially when she views the girl as something she could TRAIN to become even stronger. The girl has more potential than others, that she cannot deny. The only problem is her view in justice ----or rather, OBSESSION in the matter.

Incisor biting down on a pallid lip, the Ice General quickly turns on her heels & exits her chambers. The corridors are eerily quiet & she could possibly guess that the echoes of her heels clicking against the stoned pavement is disrupting the occupants within the castle walls. The thought of unnecessary waking them all up doesn't cross her mind. Her MAIN OBJECTIVE right now is to track down SERYUU & save the girl from whatever predicament she has gotten herself into. Once again, the images of the girl's lifeless body crosses her mind & the images --alone, prompts her to increase her speed. Before she could round another corner to go to the stables, her ears prick as the sound of someone sobbing reaches her hearing senses. If it wasn't for the familiar sound, she wouldn't be making her way over to the gardens. There sits her worries with tears streaming down that petite face. With a sigh of relief, the General makes herself over to the girl that seems to engross on her own tears. Once there, she bends down to the girl's level, a hand extends towards the side of the girl's cheek before she gently wipes the tear that manages to escape again.

❝ so this is where you've been, Seryuu. ❞

Soft spoken as she is while around her comrades, Esdeath does take extra care when it comes to the teenager before her. & when it comes to the one on one meeting like this, her caring side shows --even if it would be harder to see for those that haven't gotten the chance to interact to her like the way the Jaegers have.

#[ ;;ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴅᴇsᴛʀᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ]#korojustice

made the blog. thought about how I wont even be that active. aborted the blog

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ I'm horrible ]

i really miss roleplaying Sung-Sun. i think i’m gonna have to remake the blog from @snakeempress -le sigh- all because i can’t remember the email i used for that blog. but you know what i miss the most rping her? fight roleplay. yes. that was my first experience roleplaying a bleach character. i might gonna try to make a group for bleach only. you know, reliving my awesome past (why not??). like huenco mundo vs seiretei. yea ok im remaking her fuckme

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ watch as i try not to struggle to keep up fck ]

im coming like a wrecking ball

#voidearth #[ IS THIS IC? ]#[ I DONT KNOW I JUST WANT UR TAG ON HERE WITHOUT THE SERIOUSNESS ]

ᴋɪʀᴇɪ:

‘ it is the job of a master to help their servants… ’

she understood little of what he was trying to accomplish. he held little concern and yet he would not stop from trying.

‘ — just as it is the job of a servant to protect their master. would you care to know the reason as to why i keep you here? ’

she has been curious as to why her ability to SLAUGHTER anyone that would come just a FRACTION towards him has been sealed, as if that kind of ability wasn’t REQUIRED to perform such a task to ensure he is ALIVE.

❝ i WILL protect you if need be as a matter of fact, you are safe within these walls. ❞

it’s quite obvious that he’s only safe when she’s with him. & yet, her reluctant to obey his orders just to go out HUNTING is nagging at her every NERVES. the trespassers were unfortunate. her craving, however, is still not SATIATED.

❝ i can guess –after all, YOUR MIND is like a book, except it is difficult to open & read the pages from within. but do i WANT to know your cowardice reason? i am most curious as to why i can’t satisfy my animalistic needs. ❞

#[ ;;sɴᴀᴛᴄʜ. ᴛᴏʀᴛᴜʀᴇ. ʀᴇʟᴇᴀsᴇ ]#kxrei #[ if this looks ugly blame me for forgetting about the little tumblr blog apostrophe tweak uvu ]#[ also tossing this at you 3925873295729 years later ]

Wave: Train me! I want to become strong too! Esdeath: No can do. Wave: ...well that’s a bit blunt.

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ I LOVE THESE TWO THEYRE SO CUTE ]#[ not in a romantic kind no ]#[ IN A SISTER-BROTHER KIND ]#[ also my avatar is now boobs and legs ]#[ ohyiss ]

gonna let my drafts sit there like a fine wine

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ I can't sit and write in just half an hour and I'd have your reply ]#[ especially if they are essay kind of long ]#[ but you know I can't do everything at once ]#[ and I do love to cuddle on the couch with my partner ]#[ so the drafts are being treated as the most finest of wine and I'm craving it uvu ]

So what will ya do now that you're back? :)

what will i do now since that i’m back? well tbh nonnie, i’m not 100% back. i’ve been busy with real life and i’m not gonna say ‘up until now’ because you can see me on the dash. i’ll catch up to old replies whether or not my partners have moved on to another character. even though i would like to revive this blog, i’m afraid i won’t be able to have the time for it anymore. don’t get me wrong, i love writing as Esdeath or as any other characters i’ve a chance to write as. i’m just out of that ‘omg rp rp rp time rp rp’ juice. if you were to be able to watch my life, you’d see that after work i either play video games, or watch tv shows or spend time with my partner. BUT HEY LOL SINCE IT’S A FRIDAY NIGHT AND I’M ON HERE IT MEANS MY PARTNER IS ON A HAMMY TIMEOUT BECAUSE HELL TO THE NO AM I BABYSITTING A GROWN AS MAN. anyway yup lmao

#[ ;;iceberg ]#[ but honestly tho my writing juice is really low ]#[ considering how tumblr used to make me depressed back then ]#[ and now that im dealing with irl shit i dont need tumblr to add on it ]#[ people on here can be toxic as fuck ]#Anonymous

masochisticsadist-deactivated20

She is the ❛crème brûlée cocktease,❜ flesh the flavour of gooey, fire-roasted marshmallows—alike in both colour and consistency—a carnivore made of confectionaries, branding her prey with bonbon bites: her sighs are sticky like s’mores ( thick Belgian chocolate swirls sifting from ❛twixt full lips ), moans like brown sugar ( smirks of cinnamon-sugar shortbread signaling the descent of decadent lashes ), purrs spiced praline crumbs ( r’s rolled, pulverized into sweetened almonds and hazelnuts ) and thighs thick, sweet like molasses ( skin slick with a purée of peach slices ); when deicide is an fragrance in the air—like potting soil, like the earth after rain—she is free to do whatever she wishes, free to seduce whomever she pleases when she is the whipped cream dream deities destroy each other over ( washing her ankles and kissing her feet ), a divine deception, a delicious deceit, five layers of devil’s food cake drenched in a rich cheesecake liqueur, laced with a Swiss meringue buttercream ( gods look at her and go slack-jawed, curse their ❛omnipotent❜ luck, attempt to warp reality to get her to stand at their sides when she drops ❛supreme beings❜ like flies, her name the last thing on the ichor their lips: ‘Kohana Outtaike, she is no raspberry rose waiting to be picked, she is no ordinary woman,’ whereas goddesses go weak-kneed and tremble at the thought of her Midas touch ( ( mayhaps she will turn them a gold if they behave well enough ) ). Speaking in Sapphic stanzas, she becomes a stellar cartologist, slyphic digits beckoning so that she may begin her uranography across the canvases of their quivering, cosmological bodies, unraveling star atlases against skin gone gooseflesh, Poeticon Astronomicon in her right hand, Uranometria Nova in her left, trailing bruises along clavicles and eagerly-exposed necks, contusions blossoming into verbena and Chrysler Imperial roses, torn petals gilded gold, scattering across abdomens ailed with perspiration and backs ached at obtuse angles.

Wanton is the Wicked Witch of the Northwest, her body one long trail of goopy caramel, curves drenched with white chocolate ganache, hips cocoa-dusted and caramelised vanilla, a ❛sex kitten❜ fitted with a collar of graham cracker crust, a buxom beauty second-to-none ( incapable of being expressed in words: ineffable, incomparable, indescribable, incapable of being uttered ). An ælfen hand comes up—rather demurely—to cover her mouth, showcasing the manner in which she makes decisions with her body ( a sensuous creature indeed! ), her proceeding mewls buttery sweet and steeped in syrup, cooing when she only meant to giggle, cognizant that—by way of her hypersexuality—both sounds are identical, nymphomaniacal murmurs and salacious whispers. Her right arm comes adjacent to flank, as if showcasing her succubus silhouette afore resting her hand upon galactic hips, nails thrumming against the hot milk of her hipbone, idly killing time.

❝Hah…❞ Her croon—in contempt of being clawed and caustic—is of coconut cream à la mode, a crème de la crème climax, a series of ceaseless candied-coated orgasms and a cinnamon chardonnay, lustful overtones layered with a lilt lush and a sigh of instinctual longing, the tip of her tongue laved in her infinite libido, luring this woman in and leading her on ( Kohana is an enigma, encroaching in her eroticism, eating into the enthusiastic with her sulphurous stare ).

❝—Dead soldier?❞ Concern comes overdone—a charred caramel coating her plump pout—the cruelty in chords underscored with the pressing of fingertips against the red velvet of her mouth; she is coy in the feigning of naïveté ( how callous for one so lewd ), the débauchée putting on a convincing act as boysenberry lashes flutter to a closure, sinking perfectly-aligned teeth into the highly-acclaimed flesh of her lower lip, as if she is much too enthusiastic to reveal her true intent. Fingers curl, heavily-lashed lids flutter in their fan dance and she fixes her posture in tandem to the clasping of hands behind her back, entwined extremities resting atop her rotund and fleshy backside bouncing in accordance to the switching of her footing, taking on a more bellicose stance ( chin up, chest out, shoulders back, stomach in, heels together, head and eyes locked in a fixed, forward position and eyes unmoving, elysian features blasé and yet radiating that overt sexuality she is known for ).

❝If only.❞ She sheds her charade and is instantly vicious, voice the colour of vitriol, tongue viperous. ❝If you were dead, I wouldn’t have to be subjected to your squawking. If you were dead, you would not have sought me out, hmm? Keh, your sniveling is quite pathetic. You cannot even beg properly. Taking that into consideration, you have some worth. You still have a mouth.❞

Drawling her disdain, she diverts her gaze of gamma ray radiation towards the headwear the other tries ( rather poorly ) to barter with, attempting to make the aforementioned hat the object of an ❛ultimatum❜ begetting the Summoner’s exertion and nonpareil magical prowess, body language patronizing as she continues to establish dominance, peering down at the other in tandem to stifling a sneer, snickering made sultry as she fails to subdue a shit-eating grin. In contempt of her lack of compassion, the mellifluousness of her voice is still maintained, words cherry flambéed, prodding the thickness of her mouth as a self-serving smirk curves succulent tiers; an ethereal fulgor ( dazzling brightness, a shining splendour ) is heralded by an intense cluster of pentagrams, roman numerals and arcane symbols bursting above the cyan crown of the other’s head, engulfing her in an outré light nigh blinding afore teleporting the item within the palms of petite hands, the femme fatale holding the hat by its brim as she tilts her head to the right, the thievery of this woman’s accessory done in the fraction of a nanosecond, fingertips tinged with time, chronokinesis thickening the atmosphere and increasing the air pressure around them ( albeit slightly, Kohana considers this a ❛simple❜ technique and it is already asphyxiating the flowers, gargantuan beasts collapsing in the distance apropos to her thaumaturgy ripping the oxygen out of their lungs; if only for her own amusement, she ensures the girl has the proper amount of air to breathe, nonetheless able to feel the manner in which pressure—the continuous physical force exerted inside the core of the Earth ( 3.64 million bar ( the atmospheric pressure at the sea level )—emanates from the sybarite’s form ) ).

❝On your knees, soldier. You do know how to grovel, don’t you?❞ It is nothing short of an order, a command like the crack of a whip accompanied with the expectant tapping of her right stiletto, delicate arms folding beneath gratuitous cleavage. ❝I am not certain there is a ‘silver platter’ big enough so that I can give you head on it, but I can make an attempt, ta.❞ It is an exotic sort of ❛witchcraft❜ ( so they’ll say in a laughable attempt to explain her undeniable charisma ), how her condescension comes carnal, how it is something that seduces and selfsame slights, how this siren speaks a language soaked in sex, sighing the etymology of tangled limbs and aching lips; she is unapologetically unchaste.

❝I could make one, a silver platter big enough for you to lay back on if that is what you want, your legs spread wide for me so that I can tease you, suck you, tongue you for as long as I want~ And I am famished, I would make you my breakfast, lunch and dinner. I would spend hours lapping at the surface of your pussy, sucking and slurping and spreading and stretching your lips, gently clasping them between my own, hwah… But you don’t deserve that, my magic or your hat back. As an alternative, you can bow and scrape your knees against the gravel like a good girl. Show me how dead you truly are. Lick my boots clean, and I will consider granting you a battle. If they are spotless—which they will be, won’t they—I’ll give you something else to lick clean, thoroughly.❞

sadiisticx

Is this some trick that only she is witnessing? Or is this the end of her reign, where she is left standing without a single understanding of what is happening around her? The time, in which she has thought that she has control over, seems to be at a standstill. Her movements feel sluggish, as if something is pulling her down with all its force. The air in which her body relies on for breathing, appears to be too thick for her to even swallow. Perhaps, this isn't what DEATH feels like to her. It all feels so natural, as if she should be the one to BECOME one with it. With the Capital being stabilized with the rebel forces, there is no one left for her to be fighting against. AKAME has disappeared & it isn't like she's going to waste her time TRYING to find her. YET, she did waste her time finding the one woman that she has thought to be the S T R O N G E S T. The rumors CERTAINLY did not do this woman justice. & if she is to die under this KOHANA OUTTAIKE's hands, then so be it. A death by the one that is powerful enough to stop time, where it has taken all of her energy to stop it for a few seconds --& the technique is to be used for A DAY, is enough to satisfy this pathetic excuse of a life. However, she isn't going to go down without a proper fight. She IS NOT going to grovel & beg for her death like this BITCH is demanding her to. Now that she is fighting for no one --PROTECTING no one, her loyalty lies within herself & her father's will to become STRONGER. She spent all of her youth, her life, training to become a killing machine. & as long as she can still stand, this killing machine hasn't quite ran out of battery just yet.

With the air becoming so thick around her, it's only seem that it's only providing enough for her to breath, as for everything else ----well. Her knees buckle beneath her as she struggles to keep them upright. With the gravity so pushing down upon her, it is truly A WONDER how she can still hold her head up high. With the gravity PUSHING her down like this, it is only natural that her legs would give up ----or a leg. The alabaster ex-General will only ALLOW a knee to be bent, to be fallen against the dirt. Even so, she refuses to turn her gaze upward --to LOOK at the woman that has stolen her military hat in such a fashion that she cannot comprehend. How does one move so fast? How does one train to exceed such a lightning speed that her eyes cannot even follow? In all of her years, she HAS NOT seen anyone nor anything like this woman. Yes, the woman before her looks young, though there's an aura about her that screams out all the WISDOM & BATTLES that she has fought in her time. & come to think of it, HOW OLD would this woman be? All of these questions shouldn't matter. All of these questions SHOULDN'T be swimming around her head, nagging at her to VOICE THEM OUT. Her curiosity may be nearing its peak, but she can't toss away her PRIDE to feed the other's ego.

❝ there hasn't been a time where i grovel other than in front of my dead father's bed. ❞

It is a struggle to speak, let alone to form proper words & letting them flow pass chapped lips. Yes, the air is thick but it doesn't provide much of anything other than letting her cold heart beat just a little bit longer. However, in that moment where she struggled to speak, her weakness has been shown. The one that has been buried deep within that stoned cold heart of hers, yet she speaks of it as if her father has just died yesterday. Comparing to other children, her youth hasn't been the most joyous of them all. Yet, she has never complained about it --never blamed her parents for how she has grown up to be the most fearsome of all Generals. She has never understood the notion of love. It is a necessity to find someone & have a family with them. It is a necessity to love & feel loved. Overall, it is just work. Nothing in her life has been FREE. She has worked to earn where she is today. The military uniform that she's currently adorning, is her reward of having excelled at everything at such a young age. However, what a uniform WITHOUT a hat? After all, the hat does bring out the blues in her eyes.

❝ .... ❞

Of course, just as she's about to open her mouth & make a retort ----or even muster up whatever it is left in her body to find an open for an icicle attack, the lewd words that sprout from the other's lips got her stunned. Her body & mind can prepare for a thousand blades screeching as they are being launched towards her. Yet, her mind just can't be prepared for what she has just been laid down --in such an INAPPROPRIATE WAY. These words, in such details, have left her flabbergasted. Her lips are slightly ajar & her mind seems to have stopped working. Her body has became rigid & she does the one thing that she refused to do earlier --LOOKING UP at the woman with such wide eyes --of fear, that is. It isn't the fear of death. It isn't the fear of the demand that sounds so similar to her once upon a time. It is the fear that her womanhood might be SOILED one day. To think that she's still a virgin is beyond anyone's comprehension. She has the body of an endowed woman. A beauty that no one in the Capital could match. Men would love to do nothing but grovel at her feet & kissing each of her toes. Yet, no man has ever touch her in such a way because of the fear of being sliced & diced & boiled. No one has even dared to go into such explicit details of what they'd want to do to HER BODY, no one but THIS AMETHYST HAIRED WOMAN. & that in itself SCARED HER SHITLESS. Having someone to touch her in such a way, where she wouldn't be able to control her body to react to the NASTY, is one of her ultimate weaknesses. She LIKES to be in control & for it to be taken from her because she can't prevent it, that is truly F R I G H T E N I N G.

❝ maybe ----WHAT?! ❞

She has never been this way ----frozen, on the spot & disregarding whatever else that left the other lips after what she has just heard. It is uncharacteristic of her to be such a lady like this. & it is clear as day, that one can color out the red hues decorating her alabaster cheeks.

#[ ;;ᴄʀɪᴇs ᴏғ ᴀ sᴀᴅɪsᴛ ]#masochisticsadist #[ HUZZURR LILAAY ]#[ HUZZURR WHEEZES ]#[ KOHANA YOU BROKE ESDEATH BY YOUR DIRTY TALK ]#[ SHES JUST A FLOWER A MAIDEN A GENTLE FLOWER MAIDEN ]#[ WHAT YOU JUST SAID PRETTY MUCH JUST TOOK HER VIRGINITY AWAY OMFG ]

//WELCOME BACK MUN! WE MISSED YOU<3