@chinookane
“ clearly you’re no idiot. so, what’s it going to take to get you give up and leave ? ”

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@chinookane
“ clearly you’re no idiot. so, what’s it going to take to get you give up and leave ? ”
LYRIC STARTERS / ACCEPTING ┊ @chinookane: “ let me live. “ hm. . .
TRIUMPH TASTES BITTER, copper blood sour against a mangled tongue bitten too many times as result of forceful blows. his chakra thrums powerfully within himself, furious currents of it pouring through the dark skin of the hand fisted against Kakuzu’s shoulder to keep him in place. the edge of Hashirama’s sword dents his skin, tip of his blade precise, despite the tremble of the hand which holds the shaft, upon a nerve which a single puncture would cause immediate death. rage is a story written plain in the distortion of his gentle features; but why does he hesitate ?
‘ let me live. ‘ plea falls ragged from Kakuzu’s labored breath. begging, however dignified it had managed to sound in the precipice of his mortality, did not suit the proud savant he had come to cherish. Hashirama mourned, not for the first time, the ephemerality of their severed bond.
hoarse syllables goad his reluctance to see things through, the repetition of them cacophonous in his battle-worn mind. the grip on his blade tightens, pressing it with murderous intent for a single moment before he relents. Hashirama reaches a resolution; sword thrust aside carelessly, spine straightening with the grace of a flower in bloom as he pries his weight off of his regrettable foe. he turns without a word, violence permeating stiffened muscles as fists clench at his sides.
wayward winds rustle up a gust of leaves, drawing with it strands of silky earthen hair. Hashirama closes his eyes to the chill that nips his heated skin, cool autumn air a balm on the gaping wound of his soul. ‘ leave. you’ve no business in this village any longer. ’
1v1 rn
COME CATCH THESE FUCKING HANDS
@chinookane said : ❝ hope you have my money . ❞ ╱ still accepting .
vibrant eyes rolled exaggeratedly in response to to kakuzu’s habitual collection , not that hidan needed any of it . it was all dirty , an unnecessary tool of entrapment---- his partner loved it , this was one of the first truths that the immortal had come to appreciate though it crossed with his own values .
❝ don’t get stingy with me now !!!! --- ❞ it’s playful , the gaping wound in his abdomen should have been all the other needed . blood slicked bag in hand , holding it out to the undead man . ❝ go ahead , count it before you pop . ❞