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detectivetheory · 5 years
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hey, gang, here are some updates that’ll be taking place over the next week or so ( i’m not dead, i’ve just been working + trying not to die because retail is horrible ).  first, i will be archiving kirigiri ( @detectivetheory ) and moving her to this blog. i’ll be keeping the detectivetheory url because i peaked with url making in 2016 and i can’t come back from that. second, i will be archiving aesop ( @preservive ) and moving him to this blog. same rules apply. i’ll be reblogging some of my greatest hits from their blogs to this blog, so expect a lot of traffic from them on this blog in the next little bit.  third, i will be adding chandra oberon / the apprentice from the arcana series to this blog, and the reason i’m mentioning this is because if someone rps asra and/or julian for me i’ll give you my entire fucking skull.  these changes mean that i will operating solely from my multimuse blog, and i encourage those who still want to write with me to follow this blog.
remember that i am more active on discord @ motherconjurer#1158 than i am on here most days because i work 8+ hour work days every day with very few days off. i love you all and i’m looking forward to getting back to the grind.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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independent multimuse. canon + oc. collected by montana. / we are the ode to all of the rabbits killed by malicious magicians ; we are the abandoned stars down hollywood boulevard. anxious in the hands of a mighty god, we turn our faces to the sky and dance in the names of our ancestors. we beg for retribution, for revelation knowing religion is unbelief. yet, we covet it : we crave some understanding of the great world around us. our blood boils, our bones break, and yet : we remain. 
WE ARE THE WITCHES YOU FORGOT TO BURN.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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*   LYING IDIOT.   (  decepts‌   )
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“ aww, don’t be like that. ” his lower lip protrudes in a pout as if emphasizing an already childish countenance. think before you speak. he almost wanted to laugh. he was deliberate in everything he did, lies placed carefully like pieces on a chess board. “ either way, you should be able to figure out the truth. nishishi…you are a detective aren’t you ? ”
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      ‘  i’m not saihara-kun, and you’ll be quick to learn that. ’  her voice is sharp, dominant : proud. proud like everything she’s always done, and proud like the kirigiri blood that courses through her veins. ‘ what you should be worrying about are the charges stacked against you. we may even let you off if you confess. ’
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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like 4 a one - liner ! 
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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independent multimuse. canon + oc. collected by montana. / we are the ode to all of the rabbits killed by malicious magicians ; we are the abandoned stars down hollywood boulevard. anxious in the hands of a mighty god, we turn our faces to the sky and dance in the names of our ancestors. we beg for retribution, for revelation knowing religion is unbelief. yet, we covet it : we crave some understanding of the great world around us. our blood boils, our bones break, and yet : we remain. 
WE ARE THE WITCHES YOU FORGOT TO BURN.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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do i move everyone except kyouko + aesop to a multi???
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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@cynicise           /           sc.
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       ‘ tell me the truth about this entire operation, and you’ll walk out of this scene without injury. don’t -- and my cohort here will show you the full extent of the future foundation’s power. ’
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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@decepts        /        sc.
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      ‘ you should start thinking before you speak, ’  she tells him from the other side of the interrogation wall. ‘ you know lying under oath is another crime stacked on top of the ones we should already charge you with. ’
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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@fortunatenax                    /            sc.
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         ‘ i like your hair. ’    it’s short, and terse, but a statement of solidarity : us purple - haired girls need to stick together.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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like for a starter! 
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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hey friendly reminder that kyouko wasn’t given much of a childhood and she was manipulated by fuhito into hating jin. jin wasn’t the best father figure ever in the first place due to his absence when he was married to michiko, but fuhito’s eccentricity and his desire to take her away from her closest living family member to assure he had an heir isn’t.... great... either
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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———— I CAN MAKE THE DEAD RETURN TO LIFE !
         AESOP CARL / THE EMBALMER from NETEASE’S IDENTITY V. DASH ONLY.               resurrected and loved dearly by MONTANA.. DASH ONLY, LOW ACTIVITY.
I WILL PRESERVE THE DEAD. I WILL SURVIVE TO THE END. ————
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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i wanna write mastermind kirigiri.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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💘
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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FIVE TIMES KISSED, TUMBLR BETTER NOT EAT THIS
first five kiss asks get a kiss    /    no longer accepting !  ( 3/5 )
they sit in the helicopter,  beaten and bruised and full of their own  (  and each other’s )  trauma. the back of her head is cool against the steel wall of the helicopter, and her hands are empty. fight or flight is finally over, and she’s full of exhaustion : her small, lithe body has been filled to the brim with survival instincts. she has been combat ready since entering ; mukuro and peko have been on standby – they now sit in the front seat of the helicopter, delivering the detective and her plus - one back to where they originated.  he would join her in shibuya, if only briefly, and then return to wherever he’d like after the hospital clears them.
she turns her head to look at him, meets his eyes, and smiles softly – they made it, her expression reads, though there is a hollow void in her chest that she has not – cannot – deduce properly. their hands meet in the space between their seats, and kyouko closes her eyes again. she expects him to be gone when they open … but he’s not.
their heads are tilting, eyes are lidding, movements are slow and gentle and kind– the kiss is uncharacteristically sweet, but she knows now of the meaning behind it. she knows that they are not just young flames burning too bright for the world to see : they are survivors. truth seekers. identifiers of the shadows locked away from the public eye.
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he tastes sweet on her lips. though, that may just be the salt of their sweat, of their tears.
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detectivetheory · 5 years
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❝ I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for you – even until it burns my hand. ❞
i’m only going to break your heart.   /   selectively accepting.
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BURNT HANDS, BURNT HOPES – he holds her hand like she is made of glass, made of porcelain  (  because you can be, kyouko ; you can allow yourself to be fragile for just a moment.  )   her throat clears, holding back tears, holding back fears. he holds her in his arms, and she stares into nothingness. for the longest time, she has expected only sacrifice and gave only sacrifice.
her eyes close as she exposes herself to him ; though she is exposed to him physically  (  her matching black lingerie was unintentional ; he better not inflate his ego  )  , emotionally she is compromised at his simple question : why don’t you take off your gloves, babe? 
she recalls to him the story of the the burning. she reveals to him the story of her first trauma, long before the sirius observatory. she reveals to him everything, no holds unbarred, and yet– and yet, he holds her in his arms, kisses her cheeks, wipes her tears. he understands her trauma, understands that everything about her is a facade. they both devalue their own pain in favor of somebody else, except for each other : she is safe here, his hands tell her as they run up and down her body. you are valid here, his kisses on her saltwater cheeks tell her.
‘ my hands are burnt enough for us both, ’  she tells him, scarred flesh held in his hand, loosely – if he squeezes too hard, she’ll fall apart like paper mache. if he holds her too lightly, she’ll flutter like whispers in the breeze. she is soft and simple here, in the room made of their lightest sounds, and he rolls her over so that her hair splays across their pillow like violet tresses. she holds his face in her embered hands, and offers him the softest of smiles before he folds into their lovemaking again. 
she is quiet here, because she is allowed to be.
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