Stop Hating Women Challenge

stop hating women challenge

one of these days i will fixate on a single blog and actually dedicate time to them instead of dipping the second i get bored

legion mentioned on dash and suddenly my lenny muse is buzzing

❙⠀ ⠀ 𝒊.⠀ VANITAS.⠀⠀⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖⠀⠀“⠀⠀it can be difficult working with someone you’ve been involved with.⠀⠀” ⠀⠀[⠀. . .⠀]⠀⠀@ilfateds .

it had been a little over two weeks since she last saw him, save for the visit just outside the safe - haven, peering through the windows as an act of selfishness for herself. there was an ache in her bones, in her muscles, the memory of previous actions deeply interwoven in her being at this point. there was no such thing as lukewarm when it came to jeanne ducote, the way is which she existed teetering between fiery summers and the coldest winters, scorching to the touch or bone chilling. paris was by no means a large city, but she had taken measures to avoid running into him. whether it was staying by luca's side so much more than usual that he'd blatantly told her to go elsewhere, frequenting the seamstresses and their boutiques and yet none could provide as much of a distraction as she'd hoped. now, whether by fate or just poor coordination on her part, they stood face - to - face in the bustling streets of the city, caring little for the oncoming foot traffic of businessmen and governesses with crying children. he'd been speaking, something about a lead. a curse - bearer, someone who would have connections to something or someone whose name she hadn't yet retained. viridescents far too distracted from the movements of his lips as he spoke, to the pulse thrumming against his skin by his throat, words died out until she catches the last bit.

“ what ? ” eyes blinking, then brows furrowing with the most forced look of disgust could muster. it had failed, miserably. “ we are not involved, haven't been involved ! ” cheeks blossoming, pale skin a tinted red just on the apples. “ it's not difficult, i'm not having a hard time ... ” her focus briefly glanced to where the mark had been, and then she felt the urge to bury herself in a hole all over again. focus, jeanne ! “ why me ? ”

❙⠀ ⠀ 𝒊.⠀ TACHIHARA, MICHIZOU.⠀⠀⠀.𖥔 ݁ ˖⠀⠀“⠀⠀don’t look at me like that.  you know i’m right.  you get it.⠀⠀” ⠀⠀[⠀. . .⠀]⠀⠀@starspurn .

nothing short of aggravating with how well he could read her. just a simple downturn of brows, slightly furrowed with the faintest of wrinkles in - between, obsidians glinted with a slight narrow. to the world, gin was unresponsive and unfeeling, impassive with the expressions, hardly made up for the loudness of her actions. even those were silent, skillfully navigated in the shadows with the ease and quickness of death's linger. perhaps it was just the metallic zing of her blade the only sound out out of her, the only tangible thing to grasp. but tachihara, much to her dismay, had taken root, rendered himself a force not easily removed from the confines that pesky, beating little organ that demanded to be felt. she was no ghost, no scepter, but a breathing, human entity in his hold, in his eyes. previously deemed a weakness, perhaps still, but she'd foregone the caution that'd come with it. something about their hands being interlaced with the grim reaper, the nature of their jobs, and she'd lost the point in pretending any distance would prolong their lives. you know i'm right. it echoed in her mind. and instinctually, her head shook. just once, out of defiance.

this was no game, no light - heartedness in the confines of the rec - room or their own spaces. there was no laughter to be heard from others, just the sound of cocked guns and knives bristling against fabrics, the wind hitting the building around them with violence. it was a storm brewing, they'd known it would happen prior to setting out. they were cornered, for once. gin could see no way out of it and it angered her so, scared her even more. they'd just been looking at each other, speaking with just their eyes, unreadable to the crowd that was closing in around the perimeter, getting away with the barest of communications right under their noses. her mask was bloodied from the lives she'd taken moments prior, hands wet from the crimson, and yet she still felt the selfishness to reach out to him. she wouldn't just yet. there was only one person getting out, if any. they both knew it. he knew it first, and yet he still came with. you are out of your mind, she shot back, just with a glare that he'd read all too well. eyes darted towards the wound on his neck, where a blade must've kissed it from before. it wasn't vital, but still concerning enough. so she finally reached out to press against it, knowing he'd fight her off, knowing he'd been pleading her to leave. but she would not. “ not going. ”