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mindsafe · 12 days

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☎️ 🚕 sdfuihgsdf

@pontevoix || from: [ X ]

MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ROLEPLAYING COMMUNITY

first of all, how dare u send these in when YOU WERE THERE && YOU KNOW THE ANSWERS?

☎️ - my first character i ever roleplayed

i can't actually remember who it was, but it was something superwholock && that's how i met hale if anyone wants to know

🚕 - my most embarrassing roleplay moment

superwholock is pretty embarassing in of itself, ngl

#pontevoix #「 ♛ 」answered #「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )

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mindsafe · 13 days

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MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ROLEPLAYING COMMUNITY * send me a symbol and i'll tell you...

❤️ my first roleplay memory

🍪 my favorite roleplay memory

🌵 my worst roleplay memory

🎁 what platform i started roleplaying on

☎️ my first character i ever roleplayed

🚕 my most embarrassing roleplay moment

🎭 a blog i miss writing with

🏆 how long i've been roleplaying for

🎾 what type of genre of roleplay i prefer to write

🍷 a character i want to write but never made a blog for

🔥 my hot take about the roleplaying community

⭐️ my roleplay pet peeves

🌸 the blog/s that most inspires me

🍄 my favorite original character blog

🐠 why i love (or hate) this hobby

🦄 the best thing that's happened to me in roleplay this year

🦁 my favorite ships

🎹 the worst roleplay trend i ever saw

🚙 the one thing i will never do in roleplay

🛳 my opinions on DNI lists

⛱ my opinions on anon hate

🏛 my opinions on softblocking

🖨 my opinions on callouts

🔑 my favorite type of threads

📫 my favorite type of ships

🖼 my favorite types of characters

📒 three blogs i couldn't live without

🛍 the one thing i wish all of my followers knew about me

#「 ♛ 」prompt #while i juggle chores and try to write things #let's talk about my favourite subject: me #jk jk... unless?

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mindsafe · 14 days

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ymir knows how to read. lived experiences are diluted with those of another. basic literacy is something expected of everyone who enlists; but outside of an academic context, books don't interest her all that much. PEOPLE interest her. some more so than others. ulterior motives && concealed truths // rehearsed smiles && crocodile tears. such was her preferred medium of fiction.

a little lie is all it takes to catch her interest; a little lie is an unassuming cover for something worth parsing ( && possibly gaining valuable insight into one's true nature ); a little lie is a deterrent ( a polite way of telling someone to fuck off && mind their own businesss ); a little lie is a challenge ( she enjoys a challenge ). such was her preferred medium of fiction.

❝ well, that explains why sasha's snoring louder than usual. she must have helped herself to your portion... typical. ❞ a subtle prompt. what now? will ackerman let the other cadet take the fall? or will she fall back on a poorly rehearsed excuse?

ymir knows how to read. BOOKS // PEOPLE // SITUATIONS // PATTERNS. only a few weeks into their training, && she has the patrol schedule mostly figured out: the guards alternate from night to night && move in teams of two; they make hourly rounds from 23:00 to 5:00; after 24:00 shadis only gets directly involved with the most serious violations; && after 2:00 patrols slow down altogether. sometimes the smell of wine && tobacco linger in the air.

❝ we have at least another half hour before anyone heads this way. ❞

〝 something like that. 〞 she repeats / dropping to the stairs to sit upon. palm pressed upon her scalp once more, finger tips soothing over a crown of ebony. 〝 i didn't eat dinner. 〞 a lie. but the plate that was presented to them hours ago was particularly unappetizing. a mush of old vegetables and potatoes. again, the luxury of meat was not something seen around here and most of them don't question the taste. the hunger after a days worth of training needed to be soothed by anything. she wasn't a picky eater by any means, but growing up in the mountains where their family grew fields of fresh greens, she knew what was good and what was bad. and it's an easy enough excuse. better than trying to explain why she can't sleep, why her head aches, a pain searing across her scalp.

her head lulls, brow against the wooden post. just the quiet hum of the night to accompany them. 〝 he hasn't made any rounds yet? 〞 she asks, breathing in the cool night. the air is different than she remembers back home. it's thick / leaves a film of dirt on your tongue after it's been kicked up. it's the worst during the day, so she'll enjoy it tonight now that it's settled in with her classmates.

#aendeious #「 ♛ 」you want a martyr? i'll be one ( ymir )#it started off a bit sad but then it turned into whatever the fuck this is #ymir probably knows which guards are boning and which ones are going through a bad break up

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mindsafe · 17 days

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STOLEN memories // STOLEN life force. ymir is many things: uncouth, unkind, && uncooperative; but she is not ungrateful. life is too short to be ungrateful. she is grateful for a bed to call her own, even though the sheets make her skin itch, && cramped quarters leave little room for any sort of privacy. she is grateful for the hot food on her plate after a day's worth of intensive training. she is grateful for sweet little christa && her strange idiosyncrasies that feed into ymir's growing fascination with the girl. she is grateful for the full moon && for the stars woven into a velvety night. there was a period of time ( a HALF life // a CURSED life ) where she would wither under moonlight...

soft footsteps && a warm glow dissect her train of thought; ymir idly wonders if she'll be the next one running laps, or worse, cleaning the latrines ― shadis' punishments are hardly cruel ( she has witnessed true cruelty ) but they are punishments, all the same. to her relief, it's just mikasa. her posture immediately relaxes.

❝ something like that. you? ❞

there's a dull ache in the base of her scalp / one the radiates and leaves her sleepless. the familiar curl against poor sheets, cadets don't get the luxury of comfort, but it's one that makes her feel small. she almost feels safe, like before a knife found its way into her hand. that same palm pressed into the sheets to rise. dark eyes adjust quickly, she makes out sasha sleeping in the bunk beside her, mouth agape and emitting a content snore. shadis had her running laps again earlier.

bare feet hang of the mattress, slipping into shoes. she pulls her neatly folded cardigan on before quietly exiting the room. she stares half lidded to the door, the candle light too bright upon walking out. her search of solitude already interrupted by the presence of @mindsafe. features dip into red / already avoidant. vulnerability daring to slip through in her lack of rest. she didn't notice ymir's empty bunk from across the room. “ can't sleep? ”

#aendeious #「 ♛ 」you want a martyr? i'll be one ( ymir )#「 ♛ 」queue are my special #surprise for u #“fascination” okay that's one word for it #this is where ymir passes mika the blunt

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mindsafe · 20 days

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❛ I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE. ❜ people would often recite desperate words when they found themselves on the wrong side of razor-sharp steel ― if only kenny could wipe his ass with that pathetic excuse. there's always a choice. so long as you got two good hands, you get to choose how you interact with the world around you. picking up a knife was his choice. taking the brat under his wing was his choice. devoting himself to uri reiss was his choice.

no one held a gun to his head && forced him into any kind of submission ( well, alright, maybe uri's shit-faced little brother did have him at gunpoint for a while there, but kenny didn't think highly enough of rod to consider his part in the story ). kenny had been the one to offer up a distinct set of skills to the reiss clan; uri had been the one to accept the proposal && overrule his noisy brother's objections. the arrangement came with enough perks that only an idiot, drunk on pride, would be stupid enough to turn it down over some bad blood between geezers, long dead. devoting himself to uri reiss was his choice.

❝ that so, eh? where was that enthusiasm when i was teachin' ya your letters? ❞ he sneers. books were rare in the underground && drew far too much attention for his liking; but a literate man stood a better chance at commanding respect ― it was one of the few things the underground && the surface had in common. levi learned the alphabet from newspaper clippings, old bar tabs, && the crumpled up lists of names of silenced dissenters. devoting himself to uri reiss was his choice.

he wipes his mouth clean on the sleeve of his coat && can feel the other's judging eyes.

kuchel's eyes...

❝ quit starin' at me like that, boy. it's creepy. now either use your words && start talking, or get out of my sight so i can drink my beer in peace. ❞

& –– continued / @mindsafe

all of his actions are his own doing. that is who levi is at his core ; he makes decisions for himself alone, no matter who is involved, no matter who decides that he should follow orders.

it's something that levi logically knows, that he's harbored close to his chest since a child. yet kenny's managed to weasel his doubts inside of him –– this fabled ackerman bond shit that he can't seem to get out of his head. he lays awake in his quarters & stares at the ceiling & recounts every moment that he's had with erwin since the underground. recounts the undeniable tug inside of his chest, that desperate need to follow, to ensure his safety.

it shouldn't be that easy, should it? being around someone who you wanted to kill originally. being around someone who you have taken a blade to the neck of. but for some reason levi had agreed to follow him & now there's no way out of it ; erwin is his home. the scout's are his home.

that happened naturally....right?

❛ call me curious for fairy tales to tell myself at night to get to sleep. ❜ levi's nose scrunches up as he watches the drink run down kenny's chin, on to his clothing. it's disgusting. he's never changed in that way –– & yet he still has followers, still has his own form of a gang, & levi honestly can't fathom why. apparently it doesn't take much to have loyalty these days. maybe they see seasoned veteren & think survival.

the words make his throat tighten though. if levi is so sure it's not real, then why is he asking about it? & why should it scare him? erwin's never given him an order he couldn't obey.

obey. like he's some sort of dog.

levi's nose scrunches more. he craves the knife in his boot. craves violence to chase away the exposure. ❛ oh yeah? why's that? someone tell you to be normal for five seconds & you clutched your cowboy hat? ❜

#chaoslulled #「 ♛ 」the devil wears a suit && tie ( kenny )#「 ♛ 」queue are my special #why is my strongest muse for the morally bankrupt gay cowboy

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mindsafe · 27 days

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in the immediate aftermath of IMMOLATION, suguru envisions a tombstone, half-engraved. all paths ( however convoluted ) lead to the inevitable. execution. in the days to come, would his name be spoken with pity? with contempt? would his memory be reduced to a cautionary tale? more importantly, what would become of them? would these girls, already robbed of their innocence, be taken into so-called ❛ protective ❜ custody until it was their turn to be needlessly sacrificed? to be used as shields by the same ungrateful monkeys who cast stones at them? no. suguru decides that death can wait.

packing his bags is easy: material possessions were few to begin with && he need not burden himself with unnecessary trinkets. there's a polaroid on his bedside table; eyes linger longer than they should ― in the end, it is left behind to gather dust. in a way, the gesture is almost symbolic.

writing a letter of defection is easy: it's the polite thing to do, is it not? his language is formal && concise; a display of practiced eloquence && cold detachment. the handwriting belongs to suguru geto, but the words belong to a stranger. a finished letter is carefully placed by the photograph.

saying goodbye is easy: he considers it. he considers sneaking into satoru's dorm one last time, as he has on countless nights; he considers asking satoru to run away with him ( they would be UNSTOPPABLE together, just like they used to be ). he decides against it. satoru gojo is the only person alive who might still be able to reach him. to dissuade him. it's better to go quietly && disappear into the night, preferably without causing a scene.

but then shinjuku happened.

❝ don't i? i think it's a bit too late to second-guess my part in this story, satoru. ❞ a gentle thumb glides across the damp spots that glisten in dim light. soft skin has a habit of cutting open old scars ― the various what-ifs && subsequent i'll-never-knows. suguru chose exile, but every lonely sunset ( he stopped counting after six months ) would cause something inside him to twist && for once it has nothing to do with the arsenal of cursed energy that resides within. when the time is right, he will finally be free of it. ❝ even if i were to go && put an end to this 'madness', as you would call it, what then? there is no happy ending for someone like me... you, however, have the world ahead of you. that's not a bad thing. ❞

what he said ( then ) vs. what he meant ( now ); words are no longer fuelled by the fear && desperation of a boy only seventeen ― he never meant it, you know... you are so much more than your strength... if satoru speaks true of the nature of his forgiveness, then so be it. suguru is not delusional enough to believe he is entitled to satoru, as the rest of this rotten world is. but if there is a sliver of a chance at the only kind of absolution he would ever ask for ( to amend the cutting words that severed their sacred bond )... he almost wants to ask the other: ❛ may i touch you again? ❜

to no one's surprise except his own, satoru beats him. the other's hand fits perfectly in his own. suguru squeezes. his touch exudes wordless gratitude. ❝ since when have you cared about eating healthy? or do you no longer have the metabolism of an eight-year-old? ❞

execution. that had been where they had gone wrong, thinking that they could put suguru geto's execution in his hands & it would be carried out. perhaps that's when satoru truly lost what remained of his innocence –– when he stepped into adulthood & never looked back. because how could he? he had watched suguru stand across from him & orders rang in his head, but he lowered his hand & let himself fade. he let suguru run. he let him go.

& if he took him back there, if he let jujutsu tech have him, suguru would cease to exist. it makes something harden in his chest. it makes him want to scream. makes him want to run. because that would be easier than the convoluted bullshit that they have to deal with now. because if he ran, maybe he could take him with him. maybe he could find some sort of fantasy where things could be fine.

❛ you don't have to be the villain in this story, either. ❜ his voice is quiet because that's what suguru has made himself, isn't it? he has chosen this path, has put himself forward as a villain so that satoru can waltz in & stop him. so that somehow he can be the jujutsu sorcerer's knight in shining armor. he never asked to be that. even as he stares at him with fresh tears clinging to his cheeks, he knows without a doubt that he didn't ask for it. that he doesn't want to be a hero if it means slaying suguru.

if it means that he'll lose everything that he's ever held close.

it makes his throat tighten. makes his vision blur for a moment with fresh emotion. satoru's held strong for so long. he has not allowed himself to break in front of anyone else. but suguru is a rare breed –– he gets to see every facet of satoru. he gets to look him in the eye & know that he is human.

there is no keeping suguru, he is not a pet. this visit will end the same way it always does –– with him curled up in his bed, alone, the scent of suguru still settling into his apartment & his cursed energy wrapped around him. he'll blend back & become a phantom.

it's cruel. satoru hates him just a little bit for it. but he hates himself more because there is no promise at any given moment that he'll ever be able to make him stay. ❛ forgiveness was never my strong suit. ❜

he swallows it down; the anger, the hurt, the desperation, the sadness. the whisper of something that he has lost, again and again. there's an ache up in his spine & in his chest, & he doesn't completely know what to do with it.

so he gives him a slight smile & nods. ❛ yeah, c'mon. can't be sad on an empty stomach. it's not healthy. ❜

he hesitates for a moment, then laces their fingers together. presses palm to palm. hopes that maybe this time it'll be different.

even though he knows it won't, he allows himself a minute to be selfish. to pretend. sometimes it's all you can do.

#「 ♛ 」it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing ( geto )#chaoslulled #iconless behaviour #it's giving mitski lyrics #: )

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mindsafe · 28 days

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if you don't love me at my "words are hard && writing is hard" you don't deserve me at my "here's my long && super intricate reply that i put my thrussy into"

#「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )#aka im not dead just overworked #and now i think i caught a cold at work

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mindsafe · 1 month

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a good night's sleep is a luxury; one that is rarely afforded to suguru. even as a child, he would seldom find peace in the small hours of the night. instead, he'd find himself kept awake by the frightening apparitions that made themselves known ( seemingly ) only to him ― he'd since been made aware that these apparitions are called ❛ curses ❜ && that they are his burden. no. they are his responsibility. now, suguru is instead kept awake by memories of the dead.

riko amanai... night after night, suguru is haunted by her gentle, entreating visage; night after night, he is forced to relive what is, undoubtedly, the second-worst moment of his life. he awakens with a jolt, covered in a sheen of ice-cold sweat && with a familiar churning in his gut. bile creeps up his throat ― && recedes to a nameless space. the flavour of discomfort differs from that of the cyclical ( CORRUPTING ) consumption of curses; it's anchored in grief, guilt, && a deteriorating sense of self-worth.

a good night's sleep is a luxury; one that is rarely afforded to suguru. && dark are his dreams as of late. more often than not, he finds himself stealing away from the dorms && seeking out respite under the stars; going somewhere far, far away from the teachings he grows DISILLUSIONED with. it makes no difference. wherever youth wanders, fluorescent lights illuminate every pore && threaten to pick apart what's left of him.

he doesn't expect to see satoru gojo standing in the innocuous glow of the vending machine's light. something is just slightly off about him. satoru died once; && sometimes, suguru wonders if a part of him didn't come back. it's not something he likes to dwell on.

lately, seeing satoru is a luxury; one that is rarely afforded to suguru. perhaps it was some sort of twisted punishment for his inadequacies as a sorcerer. perhaps it really could be attributed to something as simple as shit luck ― the same kind of luck that leaves satoru's pockets empty.

❝ allow me, hmm? ❞ he offers mildly, picking at the linings of his own pockets: a half-charged cellphone, a small lighter, && a half-empty tin of fruit drops. ❝ here. ❞

satoru talks; suguru listens. something that should be second nature feels almost strange. youthful banter falls like static on his ears && the dark-haired youth suffers under the crushing weight of OMNIPOTENCE.

❝ you're probably right... if i don't get enough rest, i might end up looking as pasty as you. wouldn't that be just dreadful? ❞ he teases. although the lilt in his voice suggests something playful && fond, the smile he performs doesn't quite reach his eyes. two truths && a lie.

❝ don't worry about me, satoru. how are you? how was the mission? ❞

dear @mindsafe : “ how about a little midnight snack? ” for gojo from geto >: O

there’s a vending machine at the entrance of tokyo tech that gojo always forgets about. he’s walked past it almost daily since he was fifteen ( not that he’s that much older ), & he never remembers it unless he’s looking at it.

the vending machine at the entrance of tokyo tech is a stupid ( dated ) thing, begging for small change. it doesn’t take card, & gojo only carries card (if he carries anything at all). on late nights, he makes returns from his mission — he walks past the vending machine; he thinks maybe next time.

recently : gojo has been putting a lot of stock into next times.

technically, he supposes that everything boils down to riko amanai — but when he thinks about it, he doesn’t think about her. he finds his memory getting stuck at toji fushiguro, his blade, & the end. instead of thinking about the loss, he keeps getting stuck on something manic that stutters over & over & over & over —

he’s still coming down from the high of deification. the comedown means broken record momentum. gojo has been putting a lot of stock into next times; they keep jumping to the forefront of his mind because

he keeps thinking that there’s some self-record that he’s not yet broken.

so maybe it’s thanks to riko amanai. & maybe it’s just opportunity — gojo steps into the position of strongest, & the transition had been inevitable. since then, though, he’s been assigned an increasing number of missions on his own. he keeps coming back late at night with something cruel ticked up at his lips & the sight of the vending machine’s glow.

tonight, he comes back. he stops at the vending machine & stares at it, trying to remember if tonight is the exception to his common tendency ( if he actually carries any pocket money on his person ).

the answer is no, & gojo tuts — he brings a hand up, pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, &

he doesn’t manage a step before how about a little midnight snack?

geto’s voice is tired, soft, unserious. gojo tuts again, beams, & rightens himself into an upright posture that looks askew.

for the record: gojo is in a place where he sees everything. he sees the excitement of moving atoms; he can see when motion, when energy is inhibited. he can see the rings beneath geto’s eyes.

he can see everything, & he doesn’t need the six eyes to see —

geto’s energy is off. it’s restricted. there’s no external affliction, so what’s there to say about it ?

& beyond that: momentum everything is falling together momentum so fast momentum it’s got to happen momentum geto is strong momentum there is tomorrow momentum next time will be better momentum & geto is a part of that.

momentum says that geto should bounce back.

in the meantime, they stand at awkward angles & something sour hangs in nighttime air. it feels like sick.

gojo rolls his shoulders & wonders if it has to do with geto’s being benched, with his being put on babysitting duty.

as far as gojo can tell, the underclassmen’s caseloads have been picking up too. geto has to have been assigned to supervise them when gojo has not.

he rolls his shoulders again & satisfies himself when something pops at the base of his neck.

if something is sour in the air, then it has nothing to do with midnight snacks. it has nothing to do with pocket change that gojo always forgets to carry, & it has nothing to do with anything worth momentum.

‘ honestly, if you keep this up, you run the risk of going corporate. you want to talk to me about work stuff already ? how about hi, how are you ? ‘

gojo complains because he can, because he always complains, even though he doesn’t mind that much.

still, he smacks the palm of his hand over the vending machine in passing - a joking farewell to the midnight snack that doesn’t exist. he leaves it at that, shoving his hands into the pant pockets of his uniform while he presses forward enough to match pace with geto.

‘ so, what is it ? you should sleep more probably. you look like shit. ‘

#pontevoix #「 ♛ 」it was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing ( geto )#i know i said i would wait until i had adequate content to queue up #but hale gets special privileges for putting up with my bullshit for this long

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mindsafe · 1 month

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MUNDAY FUN FACT: my cat is a jojo's reference. his name is ❛ zeppeli ❜ but i never actually decided which generation of zeppeli is his namesake. although when i'm mad at him i do the full name thing && call him caesar anthonio zeppeli

#「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )#munday #i'm not dead i'm just exhausted && mentally unwell

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mindsafe · 1 month

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he comes baring drinks — ones that he was tempted to slip something into that’ll make tomorrow even more of a nightmare as a soft retribution for the things that kenny’s done to him. but he doesn’t — he needs answers, no matter how much he might not want them. he settles into the seat across from him, tucks his hands into his sides as his arms cross; a form of holding himself together. “tell me about the ackerman bond. it’s not a real thing.” there’s hesitation in his voice — because if it’s real, it changes so much.

@chaoslulled

he can SMELL the fermented barley ( && thinly veiled desperation ) before he can SEE the hand that brings it his way ― weathered, calloused, && meticulously clean, right down to the nail bed.

well, well... if this ain't an unexpected surprise...

it's incredibly rare for his dear, sweet nephew to seek kenny out in his favourite haunt; it's even rarer for said nephew to come bearing a token of goodwill ― because NOTHING IN THIS WORLD COMES FOR FREE.

if the drinks in hand && dour expression on his face weren't telling enough, intuition reassured kenny that this was more than an average social call or some half-assed assassination attempt. but knowing him ( kenny did raise the little shit after all ), the runt probably has something sharp concealed up his sleeve, just in case things take a sour turn.

❝ oi, oi, oi, where are your manners? ❞ kenny taunts, taking a large swig of amber ale; vice drips down his chin as he readies himself for the conversation to come. truthfully it was one he'd hoped to avoid ― a fun little secret to take to his grave. but, for once, lying wouldn't do him any favours or offer any sort of relief. it'd be completely pointless. ❝ the ackerman bond, eh? if you're so sure that it ain't real, what are you doing here, asking me about it? ...or are you just trying to convince yourself otherwise? ❞ he pauses, taking another swig && considering his following choice of words.

❝ ...does it scare you? if it doesn't, it should. ❞

#「 ♛ 」answered #「 ♛ 」the devil wears a suit && tie ( kenny )#chaoslulled #this is so bad i'm so sorry #im gonna eat my own arms

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mindsafe · 2 months

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“ why are you looking at me like that? ”

@vessuna || from: [ X ]

art is subjective. there's no correct interpretation of its merit; && there's no defining criteria of what makes something GOOD or BAD. even the imagined prerequisites that people fixate on when judging art through a supposedly “objective” lens aren't fixed or immutable. if beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then so is UGLINESS. maybe that's why he finds comfort in cinema.

art is subjective. junpei believes that the decline of practical effects is a TRAGEDY. CGI has its value, but the extent to which blockbusters rely on it nowadays feels cheap && glossy; the aspect of immersion is lost. superhero movies are among the most notorious of the culprits, he thinks.

itadori doesn't seem to be particularly bothered; quite the contrary, he appears to be un-ironically enjoying the feature presentation. he all but bounces in his seat, the warmth in his eyes catching fire. junpei didn't even realize he was staring.

❝ you really seem to like this movie... are you sure it's not just because of jennifer lawrence?❞

#vessuna #answered #「 ♛ 」queue are my special #「 ♛ 」i'll stop wearing black when they make a darker colour (junpei)

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mindsafe · 2 months

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i'm back home, fully rested, && ready to make words happen again let's do this >: O

also i would love love LOVE more plotted interactions/dynamics so give this a like so i can bombard your DMs

#「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )

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mindsafe · 2 months

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hc + perspective on denial for kenny !

@pontevoix || from [ X ]

headcanon || kenny ackerman + denial

DENIAL ( psychology ) : a defense mechanism in which confrontation with a personal problem or with reality is avoided by denying the existence of the problem or reality

―

back then, ackermans were dropping like flies. the lucky ones were able to scrape by on the fringes of society && survive by any means necessary. when he was finally reunited with his sister, she was making an honest living the only way she knew how; she was also pregnant.

kenny wasn't a man to ask for things, let alone ask twice, but he all but begged her not to keep it: ❛ be reasonable, 'chel. the underground ain't no place to raise a brat. ❜ // ❛ i know a guy, who knows a guy; he'll do it dirt cheap if i tell him to, no questions asked. ❜

thing is, unlike her GOOD-FOR-NOTHING brother, kuchel had a good heart ― she was naïve as all hell, but she had a good heart. she was dead-set on having that baby even if it meant sacrificing her own well-being. && kenny, who could slit a stranger's throat without flinching, couldn't bring himself to stick around && watch his little sister fall into ruin.

he did eventually visit her, with the intention of convincing her to come home. kuchel belonged on the surface, where sunlight could parse through the dark strands of hair framing her pretty face.

she was a lot paler than he remembered, her warm complexion all but faded; she was thinner too ― practically skin && bone. but she's still breathing.

SHE'S DEAD.

the sleazy bastard at the front desk did say she was ill. now that circumstances have changed, chances were he could get kuchel out of this shithole && find her the best doctor in all of sina.

SHE'S DEAD.

he remembers approaching her, unresponsive under the bedding that had more colour than she did. apprehension of a grim reality poisoning the air ― or maybe it was asbestos.

❛ she's dead. ❜

the voice belonged to a malnourished runt in the corner of the room; presumably his sister's. kenny couldn't bring himself to acknowledge the boy ( he was the spitting image of his mother ). somehow this kid had accepted a truth that kenny still vehemently denied with all that was left of his heart.

everyone experiences denial at some point in their lives, even the worst of the worst.

#pontevoix #「 ♛ 」answered #「 ♛ 」headcanon #「 ♛ 」the devil wears a suit && tie ( kenny )#cw: abortion mention #cw: death #cw: grief

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mindsafe · 2 months

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so here's the scoop lads. i'm generally p low activity because of who i am as a person ( aka i prefer my writing partners wait a little bit to get good quality replies that i'm proud of than rush out something half-baked that i'm unhappy with )

however, said activity is going to be even more spotty over the next week as i will be in seattle seeing my favourite band && attending the emerald city comic con + shenanigans with my travelling companions.

i'll try && queue up some things here && maybe do little updates when i'm at the hotel but otherwise i'm going to be MIA

#「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )#rebagling one more time #i'm at the airport rn and im feral

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mindsafe · 2 months

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nanako's favourite anime is death note && her favourite character is misa <3

#「 ♛ 」headcanon #do i even tag this as a headcanon when it just feels like common sense #i'm actually writing a proper headcanon thing rn i swear #not for nanako i just have nanako brainrot most of the time nowadays

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mindsafe · 2 months

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* & . ⭒ — with a touch of grace , her lips chant the tune of a star loosened from the sky . a terpsichorean lullaby homed in the heart . there is duality in the composite of the soul ; learn how there is darkness beneath the loving moonlight & how the fuse ignites to burn at the core .

independent & private rp blog for utahime iori of jujutsu kaisen , heavily influenced by personal headcanons & japanese mythology . authored by ford . — carrd .

#「 ♛ 」queue are my special #*chirps loudly*#go do the follow

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mindsafe · 2 months

Text

so here's the scoop lads. i'm generally p low activity because of who i am as a person ( aka i prefer my writing partners wait a little bit to get good quality replies that i'm proud of than rush out something half-baked that i'm unhappy with )

however, said activity is going to be even more spotty over the next week as i will be in seattle seeing my favourite band && attending the emerald city comic con + shenanigans with my travelling companions.

i'll try && queue up some things here && maybe do little updates when i'm at the hotel but otherwise i'm going to be MIA

#「 ♛ 」i'm a nervous wreck ( ooc )#if you can guess my favourite band you get a cookie and a kiss on the forehead

16 notes · View notes