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@lotusword
SendĀ āšŖā for my museās reaction to yours picking them up!
Or sendĀ āšŖ+reverseā for the opposite!Ā
(If you cannot see the emoji sendĀ āLiftā)

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kanda yuu is extremely handsome and perfect appearance-wise to the point hoshino said enough and gave him shit for brains in the name of equality.
...this is fucking ridiculous.
for all his claims of having a sharp memory when it comes to recalling peculiar people, this one utterly escapes him. kanda knew this guy, perhaps even talked to him at some point in the past ( a memory only noteworthy for the green-haired monster he associates with the stranger ), but he cannot put a name to the face; a face he found an eyesore for all its similarities with a certain beansprout.
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā i remember that shitty hair too... was it terumi? tanuki? ā he whispers furiously to himself, face twisting and twisting until it transforms into sheer disgust. what the hell was it?
with a click of his tongue and a nagging feeling that he will not get some sleep tonight unless he solves this certain mystery, kanda yuu marches onward and halts before the little squirt. might as well get on with it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā oi. who the hell are you? ā
@yanagichiri
led by the memories heās had of this place, kanda weaves in and out between bamboo trees with purpose, the dark path illuminated by the perennial moonlight familiar to him all at once. he had spent days, weeksĀ even, here in the past accompanied by nothing but the sound of his blade as it carves a path through the air, clean and precise as the many years of fighting had taught him. those were days and nights he spent in solitude, kept awake by nightmares and the building frustration at being left imprisoned in this city with shackles at his feet; days and nights that were filled with burdens and lack of purpose; days and nights which, by divine intervention, had melted into a blur of friendly faces and connections, one more prominent than the rest, pushed to the forefront of his heart by the most unexpected similarities.
kanda wonders if she remains in the city still. he had not checked his phone to see if her name is still among the hundreds saved in his contacts, nor bothered to go out of his way and visit her place of residence. does she still work at that flower shop? still failed miserably at cooking even the most basic of meals? still alive and breathing and bathed in kindness? like the butterflies that she loves most, her presence flutters ceaselessly in his mind.
he had been so preoccupied that he almost missed his destination if not for the whistling of wind that became so familiar to him. really now? he knew he was gone for a long time, but it still irked him to find someone else at the spot he once claimed as his. and so with a frown on his face, kanda yuu makes his way to the clearing bathed in the selfsame moonlight with the intent to beat the trespasser to submission, but that intent evaporates to nothing at the sight of her.
her swings remain strong and true as it has always been since the day they first met, here at the same spot, stuck at the same position. but for all the likeness it had to that day, many things have already changed: this world, the people, them.
kanda unsheathes mugen in a second and blocks the flow of her kata, blade clashing against blade as their eyes meet after so long spent away from one another, and for a moment, kanda was at a loss. what was he to say now? he simply acted on impulse and found himself trapped with barely anything to say. left no other option, kanda says the first thing that appeared in his mind.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā sloppy. ā
@onihanas
creatures of varying sizes and shape litter the ground he stood upon, devoid of life and the danger it posed upon kandaās arrival at the ruins. the elderly couple he had questioned earlier, having seen the many horrors and mysteries that lay beyond the layers of mist, had warned him of what awaits him in the woods; of the phantom children and the lifewell, of the ruins and the fiends that prowled in its vicinity. normal people would have shied away from such stories, but kanda has been and will never be normal. and so he marched straight into their den and unleashed what remains of his fury and frustration, of the pure white anger at being stuck in this place again against his will. the beasts fell to his blade in a matter of minutes, but kanda has yet to pour all that he can. perhaps he can rid of more of these denizens at another area. there was no guarantee that he will survive a bigger mob, but death is of no consequence to him anymore.
kanda takes a minute to compose himself, eyes sweeping over the buildings that lay broken and swallowed by age and fauna. they bear writings and symbols he was not familiar with, and he doesnāt find it in himself to care. a dead civilization will not bring him any closer to the goal he seeks, and what answers they may offer would be beyond his expertise, deciphering codes and meanings not being one of his skillsets. perhaps if the bookman and the rabbit were here... but that was neither here or there.
seeing no other reason to remain, kanda turns to head towards wherever his feet may take him, but the sight of a familiar face freezes him in place. they were not acquainted by any means, and what little he knew of the man were simply hearsay and stories: that he is as cold-blooded as the abominations he had slain mere moments ago; that this man, bearing the face of a god, cares little for humanity and their foolishness.Ā
at least that, they can agree upon.
still, kanda rests his hand on mugenās hilt. even without seeing the manās capabilities in person, he feels enough of the power emanating from him to know kanda will not live if this silver-haired swordsman deigns to waste his breath on him.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā ...youāre a familiar face. i see not everyone i recognize has disappeared from the city that last time iāve been here. āĀ Ā
@invitedeath

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graphic request meme: @lukefonfabre requested d.gray-man + (15) favorite story arc
artificial exorcists arc // chapter 184-201
Ā Ā Ā Ā ā ...i see this place has not changed in the slightest. ā
starting easy for now! like for a starter, capping at 3! castmates ofc are exempt (looks pointedly at allen) and so are old friends of his!
(brushes the dust off this blog) guess which bastard is coming back to town
send one for my museās reaction to your muse ---
alternatively sendĀ ā +Ā ā after the symbol for the roles to be reversedĀ where possible !
ā = hugging them . Ī = playing with their hair . ⤠= kissing them .Ā āŖ =Ā asking them out for dinner . ā = giving them a gift of ___ ( askerās choice )Ā . ā = stabbing them . ā = bowing down before them . ā = lying to them . Ā āæ = buying them flowers . ā¾ = being found shirtless . ⢠= reading them a story . ā = giving them their jumper to keep warm . ā = speaking in a different language . ā = teaching them a different language . ā = telling them a joke . ⬠= singing to them . ā¹ = insulting a loved one . ą® = slapping them . ā = threatening them . ā = dancing with them . ⤠= falling asleep on them . ā® = waking them up after a nightmare . ⣠= discovering them crying .Ā å = patching a wound .Ā ā® = stargazing . ā = caught stealing their belongings . ā½ = wandering alone at night . ā” = complimenting them . ā” = offering a place to stay overnight . ⢠= falling over . ⦠= being well-dressed . ā = wiping blood off their face . ā = taking care of them while ill . ā = being caught in the middle a storm with them . ā = holding their hand . ā± = being lost with them . ā = pushing them against a wall .

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i lost my keychain
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā keychain...? ā pauses.Ā ā ah, your demon pet. so? ā
Kanda š
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā i suddenly feel like killing someone with green hair. ā
daybreak marks the end of a long night and the horrors that came with it. shadows would grow longer as the sun rises; doors and windows would open and people would flock the street to start their day with a hefty amount of food for breakfast. they would continue with their routines and remain oblivious to the fresh blood that stains the cobblestones or the stench of death that permeates in the shelter of alleyways and abandoned buildings.
they would remain unaware of the holy war that is being fought to secure the peace of a people lazy with their faith, their very own crusaders dying for their cause repeatedly like the cycles of a clock. the bell would toll at six and twelve and what would be a call for the faithful would be the coming of corpses of unsung heroes for the church and the underlying demise written with their deaths.
and as the bell continues to ring and echo in the wake of the worldās slumber, a lone crusader walks alone among the rubble the previous nightās battle left, a hand pressed against his side to keep the blood from spilling any more than it already had.
last nightās battle was an ambush, and he nor the inspector anticipated such an attack after the chase earlier that morning. angels clad in menās skin attacked and humans of ashen color and stigmata upon their foreheads slithered away to aim for their lone target. eliminating the foot soldiers wasnāt such a huge deal if not for their numbers, but kanda yuu has not been called one of the orderās strongest if he canāt even rip their wings with the ease of a hunter, and in no time he started the chase for the noah.Ā
he canāt say the same for the unfortunate crow, however. the last he remembered, the blond was fending off two level fours. kanda didnāt have time to watch over him; his duty lies in protecting allen walker, not howard link.Ā
cruel, but when has anything ever been?
but knowing how the inspectorās survival would ease the guilt pressing the beansprout and rid himself of another death he considers his to bear, kanda has to go back and check.
but life never gives blessings that easily; this he knows upon seeing a body turned to the side, blond hair painted red as blood pools beneath his head.
kanda approaches the inspector in a run.
from the looks of it, it hasnāt been long since link suffered the fatal blow to the head; thereās a chance to bring him back to life if kanda would be quick about it. and so he turns the inspector carefully on his back.
kanda had dealt with death far more than any normal nineteen-year-old would have, and yet the paper white of a dying manās skin never stopped making his stomach churn. kanda moves his hand atop the manās chest to check his respiration and heartbeat and he feels death rattling beneath his ribs. howard link is dying, this kanda knows with certainty.
but kanda had managed to bring back a dying man years back; whatās stopping him from doing it now?
he swiftly unsheathes mugen and runs it clean in a diagonal line across his palm, letting the blood pour forth from the wound as he pulls linkās chin down to force the blood down his throat.Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā tch, stay awake, dammit! ā a hard slap on the cheek; the inspectorās eyelids are closing.Ā ā iām not gonna have you die on the beansprout a second time. ā
frantic, frantic; his heart beats erratically beneath his wrists. kanda knows his blood is not as potent as it had been when he revived marie, but it could at least be enough to close the wound and give him enough time to call a doctor.
...right?
@laeviticus
āItās okay to stay, you know.ā h
a hand stills in the wake of the inspectorās words; words that, had kanda not been a witness to the smile that bloomed forth from the ashes of linkās lost purpose, would be ignored in favor of matters with more importance. but as it stands, that very sight had tilted his perception and his hand falls from its hold on the doorknob, turning away from the door to face link once more.
heās bedridden, naturally; the wounds heād taken from the noah were inflicted to cause death. and he would have been dead hours ago had kanda not saved him. that very thought haunts him as much as that genuine smile. kanda would gladly watch lveilleās dogs die one after another, but his body moved on its own and heās sharing his blood with the dying man before he could process the reason behind his actions.
Ā Ā Ā they are similar.Ā
Ā Ā Ā kanda and link are both slaves of the church.
this has been made clear from their brief discussion at the alleyway before the noah had attacked. they are both chained to the order since childhood, men turned into weapons by choice for a purpose they will chase to the ends of their lives. they are living for someone else, fighting for someone else. that knowledge spurned him into action and now this heretic sees him more than a mere exorcist. his invitation alone is a proof of that.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā donāt get friendly with me. i didnāt save you out of good will. ā
they both knows itās a lie, but damned he will be before those words would roll out of his own mouth.Ā ā you will do your job and protect the beansprout like youāve always been doing, but the moment i sense anything off with you, youāll find your head rolling on the ground before you can blink. ā
kanda turns his back on the inspector once more and pushes the door open, one foot already out of the room as he addresses him one last time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā ā donāt make me regret saving you, howard link. ā
āforget? he never forgets. he doesnāt forget the ghosts in his lungs or the skeletons in his closet. he doesnāt forget when he wakes up screaming and he never forgets as he falls to his bloody knees finished to the bone. donāt ask him if he forgets because he never forgets. heāll never forget this.ā
ā night terrors. (via latentcrim)

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I took one of my old modern ot4 pictures and redrew it as canon ot4 + tim
almaā.
NEVERĀ doesĀ heĀ feelĀ moreĀ atĀ homeĀ thanĀ heĀ doesĀ rightĀ here.Ā heāsĀ usedĀ theĀ excuseĀ thatĀ yuuāsĀ WARMĀ soĀ manyĀ timesĀ before,Ā thoughĀ evenĀ whenĀ theyāreĀ bothĀ shiveringĀ canĀ kandaĀ meltĀ himĀ toĀ theĀ core.Ā thisĀ indulgenceĀ isĀ addicting,Ā physicalĀ affectionĀ INEVITABLE.Ā fromĀ here,Ā almaĀ canĀ feelĀ hisĀ heartbeatĀ āā-Ā steadyĀ likeĀ aĀ lullaby,Ā theĀ veryĀ foundationĀ ofĀ hisĀ worldĀ ;Ā Ā someĀ sayĀ aĀ soulĀ residesĀ withinĀ theĀ heart.Ā heĀ believesĀ it.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ butĀ youāreĀ soĀ comfy ,Ā āĀ Ā comesĀ sleepy Ā murmur, Ā eyes Ā steadfastly Ā closed.Ā
fingersĀ skimĀ theĀ lengthĀ ofĀ partnerāsĀ forearm,Ā tracingĀ sleepyĀ patternsĀ inĀ theĀ palmĀ ofĀ hisĀ hand.Ā theyāreĀ aloneĀ here,Ā protectedĀ fromĀ theĀ weightĀ ofĀ theĀ world.Ā momentsĀ likeĀ theseĀ hasĀ himĀ wonderingĀ howĀ heĀ everĀ SURVIVEDĀ thoseĀ firstĀ sevenĀ monthsĀ withoutĀ him.Ā thisĀ isĀ divine.Ā thisĀ isĀ home. Ā (Ā Ā āāĀ Ā iĀ loveĀ you,Ā yuu.Ā Ā )
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āĀ wonātĀ youĀ comeĀ readĀ withĀ meĀ tonight ?Ā Ā āĀ Ā
@lotuswordĀ Ā Ā cont.
his touch is soft, light; a dream that is settling in just beyond his reach. almaās fingers dance across his palm and the aimless, shapeless swirls feel like a language only they can understand, for it is their souls that are intertwined through years of longing and love. it is a place no one is privy to, a fate that no one can break. they will stay together for as long as his soul remains bound to this body. kanda breathes in and captures almaās hand in his.
Ā Ā home.
Ā ah, but of course a home is never perfect. nothing can be seamless; nothing can be flawless. the same can be said of his relationship with alma.
kanda groans and leans further back onto the couch they share, the rare smile on his face quickly fading into a scowl.Ā ā if this is the same book again, iāll pass. thereās only so much i can take before i start hating beowulf. ā he squeezes almaās hand and runs his thumb across the knuckles.Ā ā pick something else. ā