⟨ ⟡⋰⸰ misadventures sentence starters ⟩
“i was lying to you, but you were lying, too.”
“so what’s left to do? what’s left to say?”
“stop making friends, it’s just us.”
“just because you’re screaming for my attention does not mean i will waste my time.”
“what’s your problem, baby?”
“don’t mean to break your heart.”
“kill me if i end up like you.”
“i know that it’s not safe here, you did this to yourself.”
“can you tell that story? it’s my favorite one.”
“you fucking disappointment.”
“i can’t entertain you anymore.”
“don’t cross your boundaries and think that it’s cool.”
“if anything should happen to me, i want you to know i’ve loved you.”
“don’t dance around me, i know what it means.”
“maybe i could swim into your thoughts like your drugs do.”
“i’m not meant for this world, i just don’t see the point.”
“don’t think about it, don’t over think about it.”
“you’d better hide the bullets.”
“together we can fake our own deaths here.”
“i’m just a stupid motherfucker, can’t figure it out.”
“i wanna leap when you want me to fly.”
“darlin’, i don’t mean to beg.”
“close your eyes, picture you and i.”
“one day, somebody’s gonna go and get pushed too far.”
“not gonna say what you want me to say.”
“some things are better left alone but thanks for your concern.”
“i’d put a bullet in my head if i ever lost you.”
“fuck you, no one is gonna ruin all our fun.”
“i’m not everything you wanted me to be.”
“i suggest you pray for a full recovery.”
“what’s happening to me?”
“do you feel the shame inside of you?”
“save yourself, don’t ever look back.”
“hey, what’s on your mind?”
“i think about my life without you and i start to cry.”
“hey, it’s alright; we’ll make it.”
“i love you and i’ll never leave your side.”
“baby, pull over, tell me: are we concrete?”
“what would you do without my perfect company to your undressed spine?”
“i think we’re bleeding out.”
“i’m the one who made you, i’ll be the one who brings you down.”
“this will be the last time.”
“just give me a signal i’m reaching you now.”
“i’ll teach you to love again.”
“don’t believe it’s a never-ending summer ‘cause they don’t exist.”
“why am i the one falling apart?”
“you don’t even know you’re an angel.”
“foolish am i, for the times i come and go.”
“i hope you don’t regret me.”
“this was never my intention after all.”
“what the fuck did i do?”
“we’re made to destroy.”
“tell me what you want until it hurts.”
“i think we’re in over our heads.”
“i can’t deny it’s getting worse; trust me, it’s a blessing and a curse.”
“call me if you’re crashing, we’ll take turns.”
“i won’t be here in a year.”
“if there’s still evidence of us, why can’t that be enough?”
“i don’t mean to drag you down.”
“all we have are parking lots and nowhere to go.”
“if you love me then show me more.”
“i’d give anything just to surround your dreams.”
“i’m an anarchist in love.”
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🔪 c;
After feeling the shooting pain within her side, Rayan instinctively grabbed at the arm that did so. Long years of CQC training as a child and a Talon Merc would prove useful today, especially. Little surprise when she saw Reaper on the other side of the assault– Something about his lack of conviction always seemed off to her. But regardless as soon as her hand gripped his forearm, the metallic grip not only locked but began to pound on his forearm. Like a Guillotine the piston within the palm of her hand crushed, ripping and tearing whatever skeleton and flesh he had, satisfying CRUNCHING and then LIMPING of his disfigured and mangled hand betwixt her infinite grip only fueled her rage.
She knew he’d cower, turn to smoke, whatever that was, but at least she could RIP HIS ARM ASUNDER before he could react. Her other arm in one swift moment would then pound the joint at his shoulder, goring out the bone and flesh. Hitting as hard as she possibly could, and then some the satisfying contact like a high velocity NAVAL CANON, the KA-CHINK and then hissing of her arm’s piston as it made broke through his form, sending the arm clear off of it’s socket, Rayan had successfully ripped the stabbing arm into three separate pieces within one combative maneuver. Too bad it didn’t matter but, she’d be fucked if she’d let some zombie try her. The blows would’ve been deadly to anyone else.
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junkcr:
He was probably toying with death there, not a care in the world, GRINNING at that angry hooded dipstick. What a downer, what a depressing way to live…. or uh…. die? Junkrat wasn’t exactly sure what was his deal, which is probably why he much preferred to focus on what he was holding. Some SWEET bombs. Smoke bombs, but still! Anything that went BOOM, or poof in this case, was a-ok in his book, especially compared to some bloke with a pole up his ass. Robotic fingers idly played with his newest acquisition, a slight twitch in his hand the only sign of his eagerness at the idea of testing it right away.
❝Uh-huh, lemme share some WISE sayin’ from where I come from, mate. FINDERS KEEPERS. Noooo deal! Ye don’t need those anyway, you ARE smoke.❞
A warning was issued, and IGNORED. Reaper issued a sigh; the kind a parent made with an obstinate child. That was exactly what Junkrat was: a child. Blathering N O N E S E NS E and taking risks for the fun of it without expecting consequence. He would not take take it idly.
He moved - from stillness a burst of energy, flying at the other. A claw clasped his wrist, twirling behind Junkrat to kick his knees and d r i v e him to the ground. That grasp did not relinquish from the metal, even as a foot settled on Junkrat’s back forcing him down, bending the arm UNNATURALLY. Reaper strained for an instant, bracing himself against the pest. There was a crack and a pop. Wires were ripped free, serrated edges sparked then silenced. The limb spasmed in his grasp. False muscle contracted and fell limp.
WORDLESSLY, Reaper dug his smoke bomb from those dead fingers, dropping the arm to the ground.
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