Olivia
Online
GYUGYU πββ¬π’ SNOWHALA2026
@gyuvenile
β unlucky charm & bad omen β vartist/vsinger
@twitch streamer | Β½ @nastyaandgyu
π¨ #GyuArt | π¬ #GyoonSesh | π #Gyooning
β€ [email protected]
h: @v01d_png | i: flopflop
Joined October 2026
164 Following
167 Followers
358 Posts
Β Pinned Tweet
γ΅γ©γγ³γγΌ DECO*27 / ver. Gyu
#ζγ£γ¦γΏγ #ζγζγγMIXγγη΅΅εΈ«γγεη»εΈ«γγγ¨PγγηΉγγγγ #cover #youtaiteworks
@sia_hinata its ok friday the 13th lowk wasnt meant to be, we'll tune in on sunday goat!!!!!
BRO THE WORLD HATES ME GAH!! Okay, so I'm having technical issues and am probably going to have to postpone the anni stream to Sunday :( III WILL STILL BE OUT TODAY, THOUGH!!
@Dullahnz holds your hand, caresses your cheek
@florusvantivt YOU HAVE LONG HAIR?!
i'm cooking.
@sia_hinata HAPPY ANNI SIA!!!!!!!
@cryocrxw cryo are you colorblind buddy?
@RenKaiVT thank you >_> π
@Zepholicz π«π«π«
@xinzhan_wav this fucking program....
YOU COOKED XINZHAN <3<3<3
this is the voice of a smoker by the way
γ΅γ©γγ³γγΌ DECO*27 / ver. Gyu
#ζγ£γ¦γΏγ #ζγζγγMIXγγη΅΅εΈ«γγεη»εΈ«γγγ¨PγγηΉγγγγ #cover #youtaiteworks
@amagiseiran GET OUT OF HERE BRO
every time i join a discord vc and i'm muted, just know i'm recording on bandlab and you are just a distraction to me but i'm allowing it.
being an artist is literally the best like wdym i get to draw myself as my own wallpaper π
Miniskirt coming soon ππ
[FIRST MEETING - LORE]
Emptyβ The only word that came to mind as the sound of your labored breathing reverberated against the cold granite walls.
That was also the only thing you could say about the owner of this shattered palace. After all, the God of Chaos, Harbinger of the Apocalypse and the man who destroyed your life couldnβt possibly have anything going on inside his heart, right?
Your eyes stung as distant memories of your life before the cataclysm flashed past your mind. Faces that were nothing but dark static now spoke in distorted voices to you. Despite not remembering what it was that they were saying, you knew from the tone of their voice and the tightness in your chest that they were once dear to you. Your nails dug into your palms as your fists clenched involuntarily. As you raised your hand to wipe away the tears, the familiar scent of iron from your bloodied sleeves wafted past your nose. You grimaced. It had been so long since you smelled anything pleasant. These days, all you could remember was the scent of blood, mildew, and sometimes if you were lucky, petrichor.
A storm of forgotten memories tore through your heart as you continued to trudge through the palace. Phantoms of faces that you had long forgotten clawed at you, weighing you down with every step. Through all the guilt and rage, you thought about the questions you would ask him when you reached him.
Why you? Out of everyone, why was it that you were the only person to survive? Why were you the only one left? Left with all the guilt and rage? Left on your own? What reason could he possibly have for doing all of this?
As you arrived at the heart of the palace, the Harbingerβs throne sat atop the stairs leading to the center of the room. Torches strewn across the walls flickered with blue flames as rain poured in from the open ceiling. A peculiar design choice, you thought to yourself before quickly pushing the thought away.
You looked up at him, expecting to see a grotesque monster of a man. Instead, leaning back on the throne was an angel. Or what you assumed an angel would look like in this godforsaken world. He stared at his dagger with a melancholy expression, illuminated by the moonlight glimmering down from above.
βAh, you there,β he said, clearing his throat.
You froze. His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was unmistakably boyish but carried an indescribable weariness that made you wonder how long he had been alive.
βIt seems weβre alone in this place.β
His gaze felt like a spotlight. Red and purple heterochromic eyes studied you from above with a bored expression, as if you were an insignificant bug. Despite that, you couldnβt help but be captivated.
βYou belong to me now.β
#CryoCrArt
![cryocrxw's tweet photo. [FIRST MEETING - LORE]
Emptyβ The only word that came to mind as the sound of your labored breathing reverberated against the cold granite walls.
That was also the only thing you could say about the owner of this shattered palace. After all, the God of Chaos, Harbinger of the Apocalypse and the man who destroyed your life couldnβt possibly have anything going on inside his heart, right?
Your eyes stung as distant memories of your life before the cataclysm flashed past your mind. Faces that were nothing but dark static now spoke in distorted voices to you. Despite not remembering what it was that they were saying, you knew from the tone of their voice and the tightness in your chest that they were once dear to you. Your nails dug into your palms as your fists clenched involuntarily. As you raised your hand to wipe away the tears, the familiar scent of iron from your bloodied sleeves wafted past your nose. You grimaced. It had been so long since you smelled anything pleasant. These days, all you could remember was the scent of blood, mildew, and sometimes if you were lucky, petrichor.
A storm of forgotten memories tore through your heart as you continued to trudge through the palace. Phantoms of faces that you had long forgotten clawed at you, weighing you down with every step. Through all the guilt and rage, you thought about the questions you would ask him when you reached him.
Why you? Out of everyone, why was it that you were the only person to survive? Why were you the only one left? Left with all the guilt and rage? Left on your own? What reason could he possibly have for doing all of this?
As you arrived at the heart of the palace, the Harbingerβs throne sat atop the stairs leading to the center of the room. Torches strewn across the walls flickered with blue flames as rain poured in from the open ceiling. A peculiar design choice, you thought to yourself before quickly pushing the thought away.
You looked up at him, expecting to see a grotesque monster of a man. Instead, leaning back on the throne was an angel. Or what you assumed an angel would look like in this godforsaken world. He stared at his dagger with a melancholy expression, illuminated by the moonlight glimmering down from above.
βAh, you there,β he said, clearing his throat.
You froze. His voice sent shivers down your spine. It was unmistakably boyish but carried an indescribable weariness that made you wonder how long he had been alive.
βIt seems weβre alone in this place.β
His gaze felt like a spotlight. Red and purple heterochromic eyes studied you from above with a bored expression, as if you were an insignificant bug. Despite that, you couldnβt help but be captivated.
βYou belong to me now.β
#CryoCrArt](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/HW6ztA4asAAPzzl.jpg)
I forgot to post this last night #HanzCrafted
@xinzhan_wav cover drools froths at mouth
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