❛  why Is It Secret? What Have We To Hide?  ❜ / Jazz Hands, Gin To Aizen.

beckon, sender beckons receiver closer with a finger. ( suku to kashimo )

foul play to be provoked like this.

though they never met in their original time, he’s heard enough tales of the calamity known as ryomen sukuna. he takes the gesture for what it is: a trap, sure to slice him by the neck if not rip him apart. he’d back away, avoid collision of any kind. his instinct tells him otherwise: he walks towards the man, mouth twisted in a scornful pout and his eyebrows drawn close.

‘ and what’s that supposed to mean? ’ he nods towards the hand that calls him, unsure what to make out of it. hands on his waist, kashimo glances around and finds no one else that might’ve been urged closer, too, so he scoffs. ‘ taking advantage of my thirst for your blood — it never occurred to me that it could be a two-way street. i’ve got to warn you: it’s not going to be easy. you’ll have to give me some of yours. ’

@koseigu

⋞ 憂国のモリアーティ ⋟ : Sherlock Holmes

Happy Belated Birthday Erica! @qvalcuno

will be posting some drabbles i wrote on my old blog just to keep as writing sample for geto now that i've moved him here so don't mind me 🤪

★ 【athéko】 「 チェンソーマンまとめ 」 ☆ ✔ republished w/permission ⊳ ⊳ follow me on twitter

mikami (death note), makima (chainsaw man), komaeda (dangan ronpa) and nao (sakamoto days) all have a lot more in common than you'd think

[ slap ] sender slaps receiver in the face ( gojo @ geto. make it hurt )

a shadow crosses his face, then, like clouds passing over the sun. he tastes blood numbing the back row of his teeth, he testes the joints, thumb and index finger pressed around his jaw. everything seems back place. save for the hair that sticks to his sweat-damped forehead, he’s the perfect image of nonchalance. suguru laughs only after he’s made stock of it, a shallow rumble, humorless. “did it make you feel better? i hope it did. there won’t be a second time.”

he could hear the flickering lights, electricity’s vibrations as though every lightbulb was close to give out at any moment and submerge them in total darkness. that would make it easy, should he opt to kill satoru here. but he figures he’d prefer watching it, make sure their eyes meet before one of them huffs out their last breath. the bandages around his knuckles are tight as they were from the beginning, satoru’s shirtless frame bathed in the dim lights and a perfect contrast to the concrete walls closing in around them, the longer their attention remained on each other. suguru’s sides are bruised, he can feel it as he swallows in air. not a ruptured rib but something else. as for his face… well, all he had left was the vague hope that it wouldn’t swell come morning.

“isn’t it a tragedy? that we couldn’t do this when we were younger.” he recalls in that moment how many times they’d come close to defeat one another. 

though the competition was a half-hearted attempt at showing off their prowess, the confrontation never escalated into anything worthy worrying about by the standers. for masamichi, however, it was the source of many headaches. looking back now, and their current positions, sizing each other up within the limits of their territories, blooded and dirty, anything from years past might as well have been a childish dream. it hurt, because deep down they wanted it to hurt. if that was satoru’s attempt - suguru’s own attempt at channeling misery elsewhere, the broken shards, he wasn’t exactly sure what to do once the feeling had been conveyed. the only thing he’s sure of, and the reason they’re here, exchanging blows, is that he wants satoru to look nowhere else. focus on me.

“try to get your memories back, satoru. when have you ever defeated me in hand-to-hand combat?” a sharp kick, a flip in the air, and his other heel connects with satoru’s jaw. “an eye for an eye.”

suddenly they’re seventeen again, his cocky grin and the raised fists taunting him, goading satoru into something harsher, because jumping head on to a challenge has always been his virtue and his biggest weakness. suguru laughed, again, the sound echoing in the vacant room in a way that the previous one hadn’t. suguru lures him in, flitting two fingers at satoru’s wide-eyed expression. “try even closer, satoru. i have yet to pay you back for the headlock from earlier.”

@koseigu

❛  i have no intention of turning back.  ❜ uryu, for szayelaporro

code geass: lelouch of the rebellion starters // @foremyth

‘ oh, i assure you, i have no intention of pursuing you. ’

laugh comes swiftly, like it was surprised out of him. what exactly will the effort amount to? pride, pride, pride. that frivolous, insignificant thing — humans should’t gloat about what they can’t keep from slipping through the cracks, through the space between their fingers. much less a man who’s barely standing on his two legs, prisoner of his own silly, petulant thoughts.

how horrid! die, die, die.

‘ — and i urge you to please notice that you’re, by no means, in any position to make a decision. see, it’s impractical. your legs are broken, i’ve made sure to keep the fractures to their lowest degree so the goods — you lot — are not damaged beyond repair. but that must have been my own mistake. your tongue should’ve gone first and before all your organs. ’

he said, with bad intentions

Original

Honestly I'm really bored atm so I might just go back through some of the official content and translate some of the short comic esc scenes over time

[Character PV] Ranking No. 10 - Nice "A manifestation of the perfect hero as imagined by the people. He brings the elegance of a ballerino to all his battles, mesmerizing all who witness them."