nekurooma

[nekurooma]

crazy to log back into this old dusty thing and still see some people posting ya'll are such troopers

[nekurooma]

im suuuper busy lately with work and ramped up rehearsals for the play im in but you all can catch me on discord!!!! i'll be slowly chipping away at drafts over the coming week and stick them in my queue so its not as quiet on here bUT !!!! IM HERE I PROMISE!!!!

[nekurooma]

Akage/Nanashi from Sword of The Stranger

[nekurooma]

Gokudera: I have not done one gay thing in my life.

Yamamoto: *Raises eyebrows*

Gokudera: I have done one gay thing in my life.

[nekurooma]

shigure doesn't enjoy being in seireitei - despite all the changes it's gone through in recent years, it was still stiflingly similar to the same place that was all too happy to throw them to the wolves to keep up its appearance. none of the nobles had changed - although, they had to admit that this kuchiki at the very least seemed to have her heart in the right place. perhaps... there was some common ground to be found. ❝ sure. i always have time for a cup of tea. lead the way, captain. ❞

There was something within the Captain that felt as if she understood, the roles that they both played. There was always going to be pressure. ❝ Hm... do you perhaps want to join me in my office, and we can talk further? Whatever you say to me, is always in confidence. ❞

[nekurooma]

@raytm asked: HC tell me all about mukuro rn 🔪 // SEND ME " HC + A WORD " AND ILL WRITE A HEADCANON ABT IT <3

mukuro never got to meet his mother in her life, her blood already on his hands before even taking his first real breath. it is the first thing they remember ; blood and death. it haunted his steps ever since, a large looming shadow over him. it keeps them near, and yet it won't hold them. nothing ever does except for the restraints binding him to the cold metal table underneath fluorescent lights.

his first death is an illusion of relief, of happiness. he sees the back of a woman, her long dark hair moving gently as she walks and she seems achingly familiar. he knows he never met her. he knows he would remember if he did, as he does everything else in painful detail. they're overcome with the intense desire to call out, to reach for her hand and look at her face, to laugh with her, to be with her. to apologize. but his feet are sinking into the ground. it's swallowing him up and blood fills his lungs, his ears, his nose , his eye. she's leaving him behind, walking further further away and mukuro is screaming, voice nothing more than a gurgle, begging his mother to take him with her. she doesn't hear him, keeps walking as mukuro descends into hell, as it curls within his veins, making itself at home in his soul and marking him a sinner forever. 一. ichi. Jigokudou.

the second time he dies, he dies of hunger. hunger for what, he can't tell, not anymore. only that it is all consuming, starting with himself. he's already thin, bones poking at their skin ; so what follows next is his mind. colors swirl in their vision, taking shapes he's never seen before but can't help but think beautiful. ethereal, pure - they're flowers that bloom from the filthiest of dirt and yet stay forever clean of it. not even his fingers, covered in blood and grime as they are can stain the beautiful pale pink. mukuro reaches, reaches and reaches - but collapses before he can touch. they grow around him, so close and yet so far, mocking and soothing. mukuro is so hungry for it, death rejects him once again in fear of being consumed. 二, ni, Gakidou.

mukuro is a sacrifice for the family. the sacrificial lamb to lead them to prosperity. they take his blood, his skin, his bones, nothing is left to waste. they apologize, they laugh - they get everything they want. snakes curl along what is left of his arms to hold him in place, on the altar of war as bullets are made in his image that will bring them salvation. are the snakes truly holding him down though? or are they holding him together - it doesn't matter. in the end, they are his - and he is them. 三, san. Chikushoudou

how long can you cut a human for, until there's nothing left to get ? not that it matters for the family, or mukuro himself. he is neither human anymore, nor does he ever stay dead. no matter how long it takes, he will always take a breath again. the cursed child - the devil. mukuro has stopped speaking a long time ago. has stopped screaming even longer. they think he has given up, that his spirit is broken as they passively watch him bleed out in front of them - but what they don't see is the flame in his eyes, the dying will to tear it all from their rotten hands. to keep living so that he can eventually, turn this entire domain upside down and become his own lord. he will tear them apart, limb from limb - and he will watch the world burn. this is his vow. 四, shi, Ashuradou

they can not hurt him, everything they could have done to him - they already have. pain has become inconsequential in the face of his obsession. mukuro knows that they have grown powerful - that each one of their deaths has brought them further and further down a path that will lead them to something devilishly divine.but it's not enough, not yet. there's something more, more power lurking behind a closed door - they can feel it. dangerous, pulsing, alive. the doctors have been treating him more and more carelessly thanks to his broken act. it is almost laughably easy to steal a scalpel and take it back to his room. he knows exactly what needs to be done to unlock that door. pain is inconsequential. mukuro is already dead before his body hits the ground, the blade wedged deep inside his cursed eye. his last thought as a comfortable warmth envelops his body is how laughably human it is to be so confident, so prideful about oneself and their potential. and yet it is still not enough. 五, go, Ningendou

六. roku. Tendou. to become exalted, mukuro dies for the sixth time with his fingers around his handlers throat and a bullet made of his own bones lodged inside his head. his sixth death is liberation. the end. mukuro takes a new breath but his handler doesn't. the barrel of the gun still smokes as mukuro idly wipes away the blood on his forehead. there is no control over him anymore - gone with the color of the other man's face. pale, distorted in fear and pain. a pitiful end, and yet too quick all the same. the time has finally come, his patience paid off. there will be no one to ever hold his leash again - his family will die - and so will all the others. he will be the judge and executioner in this broken world - in all his rotten, manmade divinity.

[nekurooma]

wife~

[nekurooma]

there's an itch at the back of their mind ; the type to dig deep all the way into his spine that wakes mukuro from his slumber - though no eye opens in the suffocating prison he's kept in. instead he reaches out with spirit ; interest peaked - he knows, instinctively, whole rotten heartedly who it was that approached their little hideout. it is the smile that shows first when he plucks nagi's body from her book ( it won't be for long , my dear nagi ) now gloved hands gently closing it after marking the page for her to continue later. maintaining a straining bond like this for nothing more than idle conversation would seem a waste for anyone else ; but what is one humble illusionist to do, when the vongola 10th comes to him like this ; out in the open, all alone.

their connection tugs, a tentative - small bond ; both a pesky nuisance as well as a convenient advantage. two sides of the same coin - but mostly infuriating as he watches the boy perk up ; whisper their name almost like a prayer. he lets a chuckle dance from his lips in reply - who is mukuro to deny after all ? ❝ sawada tsunayoshi. ❞ their voice rings from all sides through the trees before he finally steps out of the deep shadows, but not quite into the open light. ❝ out here, all on your own ? how bold of you.  ❞

𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄  .    the type that sends a shiver down his spine    (        a sensation not unlike a touch of ice upon skin in midsummers heat        )    ,    demands immediate attention  .       the extrasensory perception    ,    𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐱𝐭𝐡 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥  ,    tells him of precarious morrows tied to none other but his mist guardian  .   

mukuro had been his first  ,    real encounter with the mafia &. their cruel ways  .    images of his friends dancing to the whimsical needs of their perpetuator like broken marionettes  ,    young boys with pulverized dreams for the future as they were hauled off to prison     ━━    he hadn’t slept for days  .    the brunet has wished he could hate the illusionist for what he had done to his friends  ,    and oh  ,    had he tried  .    𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝  .    not when he had heard ink black parts to the backstory driving adolescents to the edge of madness  ;    all he could feel is empathy for such pain    &.    loneliness  .     so now , halfway to kokuyo in hopes to sooth his nerves , his pace dwindles with worry  ,    amber hues scanning the perimeters for any allusion  .    ❝     mukuro  .  .  .    you there  ?     ❞

[ ♡ ] , @nekurooma

[nekurooma]

❝ pot calling the kettle black, much ? like you're any better when your hair is down. ❞ which speaking of - there's a bit of a mischievous glint to his eyes as he reaches out ; uses bokuto's distraction and theatralics ( tears ? really ? ) to roughly ruffle through his hair so it truly sticks up in all directions and not just backwards. like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket. the sight brings a smirk to tetsurou's lips, satisfied by petty revenge. for now. ❝ at least mine doesn't look like i've electrified myself.  ❞

bokuto stumbled backwards as kuroo pushed him, clutching his stomach as his laughs slowly quieted down. out of breath from laughing so hard, the ace let out a long sigh to regain his breath and fully regain some semblance of self control. wiping a tear from his eye, bokuto waved his hand around to dismiss the other's words.

❝ i know i know, your facial expression just really sealed the deal for me. plus you can't blame me, it's weird every time your hair isn't in it's usual bedhead style. ❞

[nekurooma]

❝ are you stupid ? ❞ akaza does not bother hiding the distaste in his tone. the boys voice grates his ears, grinds his gears - it is plain annoying. this is not what he left kibutsuji for. what he risked everything for. to follow some weak, slow boy around to dispose of some lower demon. what's the point. where was kyojurou ; his fingers curl into fists so tight they could draw blood. resisting the urge to lash out. ❝ if i wanted you dead, you'd already be so. now stop yapping and do your job.❞ it sure isn't his. akaza isn't a demon slayer, so why waste his precious night on hunting prey that was not worth his attention. he relaxes his grip, moves to cross his arms in front of his chest instead. ❝ or are you telling me you're so weak that you can't even feel the difference between me and some lower demon scum ? ❞

"I'd like you see you try, you piece of trash demon. I'll gnaw your striped face to shreds before you can touch me."

Saying Inosuke was reluctant was an understatement. Having to stand near this demon made his skin crawl all over.

"I can't focus with you right here! How am I s'posed to find demons when there's one right next to me! Just... fuck off! I ain't teaming up with you! I don't care if the crow told me to, I just ain't doing it! I know you're just waiting for a chance to stab me in the back!"

[nekurooma]

send me  ‘ hc ‘  + a word and i’ll write a headcanon about it regarding my character.

[nekurooma]

illusions… or real illusions. within the illusions hide real illusions… from the real illusions, the illusions are created. within the truth hides the lie… within the lie hides the truth. that is the mist

[nekurooma]

they hadn't , had they ? for what was there to say - shigure understands, can even see the advantage of having such a highly technological marvel replace what was lost. they just hate that it came from the clown - that he was the one to dig around in kisuke's skull. that he let him. the former shinigami doesn't trust the other scientist that way. not with kisuke, not after almost losing him like that. is it irrational ? perhaps. but what does it matter now. what's done was done - and the two men were friends after all ; in some way at the very least.

❝ you know what i think about it. ❞ as you always do. they gently place down the little mechanical animal down they've been working on with a sigh ; turn around so they can reach out to kisuke's hand and entwine their fingers. his warmth pulses against her cold, against the raised skin of her own scars from the war the both of them had returned from alive ; which in the end, is all that matters. shigure steps into the empty space between his legs, raises their other hand to brush against his cheek as they do - letting the touch linger. ❝ is across the room too much of a distance for you ? ❞ a smile curls along their lips. endeared. ❝ you make it sound like i've been neglecting you, love. ❞

" You haven't even said anything about it yet, darling. " It's half a jest and half in earnest, how he would talk about it, following Shigure's path around with the new prosthetic eye in place, taking in all that had changed for him now that he had the time to just get a bit more used to it. An interesting creation to work with. On one hand, he could use it like a regular eye, on the other hand, if desired, Kisuke could use it to trace and track any bits of spiritual pressure floating through the air, all now becoming a split-second visible when following his beloved around the room with gaze alone, seeing the fine whirls and waves that they would leave behind. 

He could, kind of, get lost in that visual alone. 

But alas, that was not what he wanted to do right now when reaching out towards them from the place on the couch the scientist had made to acquire, the arm used subconsciously the one still littered with fine, hair-thin scars. Not quite sure yet, if he would leave it that way or not, but smile he would nonetheless. " Don't be so busy, there is no need to fix up everything. Come, keep me some company~ " @nekurooma 💕

[nekurooma]

a natural ? yeah right. ❝ how do you think i learned ? ❞ he picks the kukri up from where it had bounced off of the target to the ground. sure, the weight of it sits easy in his hands now - but it's taken him years to have it feel like an extension of himself. ❝ it's easy to be frustrated, but everyone has to start somewhere.❞ nyx flips up the weapon so he can catch it by the tip of it's blade, holding out the handle to prompto. ❝ again. but this time, let the weight of the blade settle in your hand. be aware of it. imagine it following your lead. ❞

❝ easy for you to say, you're a natural at this. ❞

prompto couldn't help but be a bit sour, not at nyx, but really is own inability to aim the kukris properly. a gun he didn't have to put any power behind, he just had to aim and shoot. but having to throw a small knife with some weight behind it while still being accurate was out of his realm of expertise, clearly. he doesn't know how noctis could wield so many different types of weapons proficiently.

[nekurooma]

MUSE AESTHETICS: HORROR EDITION.

bold whatever applies | italics what sometimes applies [ both if it's perfect for your muse ] | strikethrough what doesn't apply & tag people. repost; don’t reblog!

TAGGED BY: @za-baransu <3 TAGGING: @madestars , @whirling-fangs , @isolov , @raytm , & YOU!

CLASSIC.

black and white. powder puffs. red lipstick. winged eyeliner. white kitten heels. black lace lingerie. icy blue eyes. rain. abandoned cars. skeletons. acid. poison. voyeurism. switchblades. strangling. overcoats. looking over your shoulder. trans-atlantic accents. private detectives. dinner parties. haunted mansions. cobwebs. perfect blonde curls. kitchen knives. shock. cellars. dust. ghosts. dark alleys. empty streets. horn-rimmed glasses. radiation. zombies. serial murder. suspicion. the city. witches. the devil. cannibalism. conspiracies. amulets. abject terror. the American South. the American Northeast. England. analog cameras.

CRYPTID & URBAN LEGEND.

aliens. blinding light. dark woods. driving at night. claw marks. bite marks. men in black. memory loss. dismembered bodies. sewers. flashlights. cell phones. video cameras. cars with tinted windows. unlabeled cassette tapes. bugs. big cities. urban crimes. clowns. something rustling outside your window. glowing light. unsolved mysteries. suburbia. mirrors. the american pacific northwest. the american midwest. hiking. backpacking.

GOTHIC.

gaslights. corsets. ballrooms. candlelight. mist. starless nights. full moons. cobbled streets. horse-drawn carriages. mysterious strangers. bogs. moors. forests. mountains. castles. velvet. silver. brass. gold. jewels. domino masks. the opera. dangerous romances. tragic romances. violins. roses. lilies. empty graves. crosses. cemeteries. snow. ice. the gallows. crows. milk-white skin. ambiguous illness. fangs. pointed nails. something howling in the night. capes. gloves. top hats. straight razors. lightning. pipe organs. underground caverns. bats. mice. rats. ravens. cats. pearls. attics. talismans. axes. wood. isolation in a room full of people. vampires. werewolves. ghosts. coffins. western europe. eastern europe. bones. churches. catacombs. mausoleums. books. stitches.

PARANORMAL.

malevolent spirits. seances. spells. missing bodies. hidden graves. white noise. static. flickering lights. rings of salt. demons. poltergeists. dark histories. old buildings. cold air. wells. urban exploration. a dog barking at unseen things. iconoclasm. black ooze. old photographs. dark bodies of water. crucifixes. priests. possession. exorcisms. dolls.

SLASHER.

bloodbaths. massacres. wanton nudity. newspapers. leather jackets. letterman jackets. converse sneakers. obscured faces. social unrest. bonfires. lakes. babysitters. high school. lockers. dead leaves in the fall. jack-o’-lanterns. passing shadows. outdated television sets. nightmares. psychiatrists. hospitals. unstoppable forces. gunfire. police. landline telephones. improvised weapons. halloween. secrets. revelations. cut wires. character masks. scrunchies. wild curls. jeering children. parties. fire. swearing. revulsion. california. the american midwest. ambulances.

THRILLER.

daylight. fluorescent lighting. morgues. unwavering eye contact. tension. lit rooms. empty rooms. killer in plain sight. a dog digging in the newly-planted flower bed. steely gazes. paperwork. anagrams. codes. convicted killers. missing persons. law enforcement. federal agents. small towns. paranoia. subdued terror. dimly-lit parking lots. a noise in the distance

[nekurooma]

Fushiguro Toji

Jujutsu kaisen S2E01

[nekurooma]

❝ i you think so ? ❞ it's hard not to get embarrassed at such earnest praise - usually, the phrase i heard about your quirk brings up mostly bitter memories for him, but with a radiant personality like togata's - there's nothing but honesty in that bright smile and it's blinding hitoshi. he barely resists the urge to shield his eyes from it. how the hell else are you supposed to react to an onslaught like this. he's going to start feeling like a broken record. ❝ thank you, senpai. i'll keep giving it my all to catch up to everyone ! ❞

☙ "Of course, any time! And I heard about your quirk!" The blonde went on, somehow his smiling getting bigger. " That is an amazing quirk you have, it's so unique! I just know you'll make it! The first steps are the toughest but I'm rooting for you, we all are! Never be too hard on yourself, okay!"