๐ค๐ž๐ง๐ฉ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ข ๐’€๐‘จ๐‘ช๐‘ฏ๐‘ฐ๐‘น๐‘ผ
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chidamariken.bsky.social
๐ค๐ž๐ง๐ฉ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ข ๐’€๐‘จ๐‘ช๐‘ฏ๐‘ฐ๐‘น๐‘ผ
@chidamariken.bsky.social
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โ € we are heralding a ๐’๐ˆ๐‹๐„๐๐“ ๐†๐‹๐Ž๐‘๐˜ , @serration.bsky.socialโ€ฌ . โ €
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/ while i'm an absolute hoe for drama , i'm just ... literally here to write ... spare plots not tea at the moment bc man im drying out
Reposted by ๐ค๐ž๐ง๐ฉ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ข ๐’€๐‘จ๐‘ช๐‘ฏ๐‘ฐ๐‘น๐‘ผ
โ €
โ €โธป โ ๐ฐ๐ž ๐ญ๐š๐ฅ๐ค ๐ฌ๐จ ๐ฆ๐ฎ๐œ๐ก ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฅ๐ข๐ ๐ก๐ญโ€”๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ ๐ฆ๐ž ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ž๐š๐ค ๐จ๐ง ๐›๐ž๐ก๐š๐ฅ๐Ÿ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ ๐จ๐จ๐ ๐๐š๐ซ๐ค. ๐ฅ๐ž๐ญ ๐ฎ๐ฌ ๐ญ๐š๐ฅ๐ค ๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ก๐จ๐ฐ ๐๐š๐ซ๐ค ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐›๐ž๐ ๐ข๐ง๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐š ๐๐š๐ฒ ๐ข๐ฌ. โž
โ €
โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ€” ketsumyo.carrd.co
โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € โ € #BLEACHRP #BLEACHOC #MVRP
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Reposted by ๐ค๐ž๐ง๐ฉ๐š๐œ๐ก๐ข ๐’€๐‘จ๐‘ช๐‘ฏ๐‘ฐ๐‘น๐‘ผ
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๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ค๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฏ๐˜ค๐˜ฆ โ€” ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฉ๐ซ๐จ๐ญ๐ž๐œ๐ญ.
๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต ๐˜ฅ๐˜ข๐˜บ โ€” ๐–พ๐—๐–พ๐—‹๐—’๐—๐—๐—‚๐—‡๐—€ ๐–ผ๐—๐–บ๐—‡๐—€๐–พ๐–ฝ.

๐‘Ž๐‘›๐‘‘ ๐‘ ๐‘ก๐‘–๐‘™๐‘™,
โพ. โ‹… ๐—‚ ๐–ผ๐–บ๐—‹๐—‹๐—’ ๐—๐—๐–พ ๐—Œ๐—‚๐—…๐–พ๐—‡๐–ผ๐–พ
๐—…๐—‚๐—„๐–พ ๐–บ ๐–ป๐—…๐–บ๐–ฝ๐–พ
๐–บ๐–ผ๐—‹๐—ˆ๐—Œ๐—Œ ๐—†๐—’ ๐–ป๐–บ๐–ผ๐—„.

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โ€œ you will never know ordinary peace, โ€ comes her assured curse , her accursed blessing that washes over him like the blood pool that she graced his sights , his form , and his soul with. โ€œ not when you've melded yourself with me , forever. โ€

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restraint. that accursed word that she trained herself with , in order to honour whatever creed that preserved her to this day to prolong the joy of the kill. the joy of strength , the joy of feeling his fingertips return home to her collarbone.

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โ€œ ... but you don't know that ๐’๐’ ๐’๐’๐’† ๐’˜๐’Š๐’๐’ ๐’–๐’๐’…๐’†๐’“๐’”๐’•๐’‚๐’๐’… , if we show what we know in the open. โ€

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a hitch of her breath , caught in the middle as it echoes within the enclosed training grounds , becomes much more sacred than the holiest of rituals. the scar that never heals , the scar that throbs at his voice whenever he is near ...

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โ€œ you thought myself changed, โ€ unohana muses , gently taking his brutish hands in her lithe one before having it press upon that scar ; that accursed , blessed scar , for him to feel under his fingertips. โ€œ you agonized. you grieved. โ€

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โ€œ that is what ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ thought , zaraki, โ€ is what she says in response to his disappointment , before the deluge of the way he accurately understands what they are before the blood , the flesh torn asunder , the lives that cease to be.

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๐˜ต๐˜ฐ ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ฆ๐˜ฎ , ๐˜ต๐˜ฉ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐˜ช๐˜ด ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฆ๐ž๐š๐ง๐ข๐ง๐  ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ž๐ฑ๐ข๐ฌ๐ญ๐ž๐ง๐œ๐ž.

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๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ž ๐ข๐ฌ ๐ง๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐ข๐ง๐  ๐œ๐ก๐ž๐š๐ฉ about zaraki's understanding.

that is how they view each other , of course ; as fellow blades that yearn to maim , strike , to cross each other at every given opportunity. to the untrained eye , it's picking fights.

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Kenpachi as the boy whose first erection was a blade pressed to his throatโ€”โ€” ๐’‰๐’†๐’“ ๐’ƒ๐’๐’‚๐’…๐’†.

โ€œ Disappear? โ€
He repeated it like the word offended him. Or worse, wounded him. The tone dragged like a body left warm in the dirt. โ€œ You really think something like ๐–™๐–๐–†๐–™ just disappears? โ€œ

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โ€œ did you ever have the semblance of that part of me having disappeared? โ€ comes empty , chilling tones. it's what she sounds best in , after all ; the tones that this man desires the most. โ€œ my hands yearn to draw blood each day , zaraki. โ€

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bฬตอŠฬฒอ•uฬทอ˜ฬ…ฬฅอ™tฬถฬ‹อฬกอš ฬธอ€ฬœ ฬถอ›ฬณhฬดอ†อ’ฬฑoฬถฬฬนอ‡wฬตอ„ฬพฬฒ ฬดอ—อœฬฅ ฬธฬˆฬ˜hฬถฬฬผฬ—yฬธอฬผฬ™pฬถอŠอ™oฬธฬšฬ™อ•cฬดอŠอ‡rฬดอ„อ„ฬฒอ“iฬธฬ’อ‰ฬขtฬถฬอœอ™iฬธอฬ’ฬผcฬตอ อˆaฬดฬ…ฬŽฬญฬงlฬทฬ“ฬฬž.ฬธอฬŒฬฑฬฎ ฬดออ’ฬฏอ™ ฬธอŒฬ–fฬถอ›ฬญฬณeฬตฬ•อŠอˆฬ™aฬธอŠฬ€ฬฅsฬทฬฬ‹ฬชtฬทฬŽฬจฬฅ.ฬตฬฝฬอ”ฬง ฬดฬ’อœฬง ฬดอ‚ฬฌdฬถอฬชอšeฬตอ‹อƒฬŸฬžvฬทฬ’ฬ‰อ‰oฬธฬ‘ฬกuฬดฬพอ™rฬดฬพฬ‹อ“อˆ.ฬตฬพฬ‹อ

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a sword is sharp , but it will inevitably dull when it's used one too many times. restraint is hardly anything to be proud of , but it is that very patience that keeps a sword sharp at all times -- ever ready for the blood that awaits.

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as if any of them wanted to be cured in the first place ; with her neck craning to accept the danger of his warmth , she's already made her decision to prioritize what they both so dearly need instead of outward proprieties.

yet , discipline.

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๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฒ ๐ง๐จ๐ฐ , there is nothing more containing than the repressed spirit of seeking the most visceral of things.

for that , unohana cannot blame him ; because ๐˜ธ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ต , in everything that existed , exists and will exist , cure their dear afflictions?
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๐™ทแด€แด˜แด˜ษชษดแด‡ss consists in frequent
repetition ๐™ค๐™›โ€”โ€” ๐–•๐ฅ๐ž๐š๐˜€๐–š๐–—๐–Š.

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so she regularly tells herself. not yet. ๐˜ฏ๐˜ฐ๐˜ต ๐˜บ๐˜ฆ๐˜ต.

he wants her to admit her wrongs. he wants her to say something , anything , as she looks back at he who ๐๐ž๐ฌ๐ข๐ซ๐ž๐ฌ her within her restraints.

โ€œ then search for someone else. โ€
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ebony locks , silky as they pool down her ichor-stained ๐˜ฉ๐˜ข๐˜ฐ๐˜ณ๐˜ช , gather in slender hands to return to the veneer of mild grace that all knew ; fingers braid away as she binds her hair to its restrained fashion. it is not the time to indulge him.
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the push and pull of having to be as they aren't ; one with the morals of a serpent , and the other with the ravenous hunger of a wolf , exchanging trysts like these in the pretense of training ( as if they needed more , that they lack! ).
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โ€œ ๐ฒ๐จ๐ฎ are displeased then. โ€ it's hardly anything new to her ; despite having her form shoved off ever unceremoniously , it's not as if she minded at the very least. they playacted for this long , adhering to an unspoken status quo before the masses.
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something she accidentally created and losing someone who couldโ€™ve sustained the ๐—ผ๐—ฏ๐˜€๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ catharsis towards her relief, someone who she loved and granted her a fulfilling ๐–—๐™š๐ฅ๐–Š๐–†๐ฌ๐–Š in the end.

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