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#{ Especially in his main verse with Envy. }
yuichiroswife · 2 years
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.  ◞   *   WHAT IS YOUR DUALITY ?
Moon Curse of the Werewolf.
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You have found yourself hungered or sickened or ambitious to the point of emotional carnage. You are fine, until you're not, and then you could rip someone in your way apart with your bared teeth by complete accident, and later claw at yourself in fits of pain trying to apologize. Do you look at the moon that blessed you in her name, at her marred beauty and baneful eyes, and wish she could just crush that loving-hateful heart of yours before it crushes itself? Every bite you take out of flesh is a response to the threads of silver bullets in you that haven't healed. The duality is that the human inside is howling too, gnashing, and without the wolf pelt, everyone can ignore it and turn away. At some point, you got tired of the moon being your only witness. Now the wolf is there to make sure others know that you are hurt, and deserving of humanity, of attention to wounds. Because that wolf loves you; all of you; and knows when you are hurt better than yourself.
Tagged by: @tenebrispxnea
Tagging: Just steal it from me and tag me if you want.
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familyromantic · 12 days
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(Submission)
I'm devastated I can't ramble on forever about my number one incest OTP Klaus/Elijah because there are already a couple of gifsets of them on this blog, but after trying to think of what other ships I have that could fit the criteria, I remembered a pairing I haven't thought about in a while but wish was more popular.
Johnny and D'avin Jaqobis from Killjoys. 
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gif source: @anissagraces on Tumblr
To sum up their dynamic - they have a complicated and somewhat rocky history, but their loyalty is unwavering no matter what. They bicker and mess with each other constantly but will go the ends of the galaxy to protect each other.
A quick intro to the show - The three main characters are Dutch, Johnny and D'avin. They work as bounty hunters, known as Killjoys. 
D'avin and John were estranged for 8 years before reuniting at the beginning of the series. They were very close as children, only having each other to rely on growing up in an abusive household. Until D'avin ran away and joined the army when he was 17 and disappeared out of John's life without a word, not to be seen or heard from again until the events of the pilot.
John harbours a lot of anger, resentment and distrust towards D'avin for abandoning him, but still doesn't hesitate to risk his career, his friendship with Dutch and his life to save him when he hears there's a kill warrant out on him. He steals Dutch's ID to take D'avin's warrant without official clearance and sneaks off to prevent him from being killed by another Killjoy. Dutch follows him and together they work to find out who put the kill warrant out on D'avin and get it lifted. Despite them going rogue, mysterious orders from high up clear John and Dutch and D'avin is recruited to their team. 
As the season goes on, the brothers work to slowly repair their relationship and rebuild trust as more is revealed about why D'avin left, why he didn't contact Johnny and what he's been involved in that made someone want him dead. 
On to why I ship them, headcanons etc. Aside from that I'm a simple bitch who'll ship just about any two (or more) pretty boys (and/or girls) especially ones who have fun banter and a slightly crazy level of devotion for each other - if you look at things through a shippy lens, there's a decent amount of fodder there to build off.
Firstly, sexuality is depicted as pretty fluid in the Killjoys verse. Though they're both ostensibly straight, they both have occasional moments that could be read as interest in guys or at least openness to the possibility. Bisexuality seems pretty common and casually accepted in their culture, so it's not too far-fetched to imagine that in the right circumstances either or both of them could develop an interest in a man, or at least be willing to seduce one for a mission if nothing else.
Their dynamic is complicated and layered - they have mutual feelings of admiration and almost hero worship, mixed with an oftentimes juvenile sibling rivalry. They each look up to and idolise the other in different ways. D'av envies that doing the moral thing seems to come naturally to John while he struggles with bad, impulsive choices. Johnny regards D'av as more like a father to him than their actual father.
I don't really have any strong shippy headcanons about them; generally I'm the sort of person that likes my headcanons to be somewhat realistic and plausible, and obviously it would take a fair bit of tweaking from canon to get them to a place of developing romantic feelings for each other that isn't totally OOC.
However, what else is fandom for? It's mentioned that Johnny's first kiss was with their cousin, and neither of them seem to have had many friends or been very close to anyone other than each other while growing up poor on a harsh and small, isolated planet with their abusive, alcoholic father. Perhaps in an AU where they never left Telen, it would be easier to imagine lines getting blurry.
Or perhaps pile some more trauma, loss, isolation (and booze) on them and a codependent, dysfunctional 'turn to each other for comfort because no one else could understand' situation could unfold. (my predicative text wanted unfold to be unfortunately, which is fair lmao) 
Then there's the 'not really canon but the Vibes are Vibing' pseudo-poly thing they have with Dutch. She and John have a platonic soulmate thing where he considers her a sister, albeit with the occasional hint, particularly in a flashback to how they met, that he might harbour some romantic feelings for her deep down. John is not happy at first when Dutch and D'av become romantically interested in each other.
John: Dutch is family too. Meaning, don't plow our sister. D'av: Remind me, was that on the Jaqobis family crest?
He claims he's not jealous, it just feels awkward that "it's like my brother is banging my sister" but it's easy to interpret a bit of jealousy and possessiveness from John towards both of them.
While it never truly goes there in canon, no matter how many times they claim they're not a throuple, they can't shake the reputation, so there's a lot of building blocks for shipping any combination of the three.
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gif source: (99+) KILLJOYS 5.04 (2019) – @swallowedabug on Tumblr
The family dynamics only get more complicated in as the show progresses, when an enemy-turned-reluctant-ally, her girlfriend who Dutch was cloned from and D'avin find themselves the surprise parents of a rapidly aging child with enhanced abilities.
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source: https://www.tumblr.com/booasaur/176364392675/killjoys-4x02?source=share
In 5x01 when their memories are altered and they believe they are strangers, they very quickly fall into their typical snarky bickering and roughhousing, with the addition of John commenting to Dutch after D'avin bests him in a fight with one stealth hit
John: Okay, yeah. I see what you see in him. That's straight-up sexy.
Granted, he doesn't remember D'av is his brother at this time but it's very funny when contrasted with Dutch, who starts to remember their real lives the moment John kisses her and it feels wrong. Whereas John, for all he calls her his sister, didn't have any problem believing the false memory that she was his wife, and immediately calls his brother 'sexy' and 'handsome' as soon as they meet.
There's another scene in season 5 where Dutch and D'av are trading innuendo-laden banter while trying to escape from zipties, and despite protesting that he doesn't want Dutch to talk about his brother while they're pressed against each other in handcuffs, he also quips "'Johnny' is my safeword." Hmm, D'av, I think most people wouldn't even joke about saying their brother's name during sex, but you do you.
There's probably at least a couple more examples of Totally Normal and Not At All Weird things to say to/about your brother that I'm forgetting since I've only watched the show once at the time it aired.
But now, on to the shippiest moment, the pièce de résistance, the holy grail of brocest ship fanservice, rivalling Supernatural for sheer 'wtf I can't believe the writers went there' energy.
I already low-key shipped them, both on their own and in an OT3 with Dutch, but mostly due to just being a huge slut for multi-shipping. Nothing had really inspired me to give them all that much thought as a ship, until an episode that I can only assume was the work of a dedicated incest shipper breaking into the writer's room and replacing the script with fanfic.
In 4x02 John gets badly injured and to save his life D'av has no choice but to infect him with Green Plasma - an alien parasite that gives people enhanced healing, strength and reflexes, but also erases their emotions and turns them into sociopathic killers called Hullen. 
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source: https://www.tumblr.com/librathefangirl/759257136932028416/whumpgifathon-day-19-relationships-what-is?source=share
I was already feeling spoiled by all the D'avin worried sick and tenderly cradling an injured Johnny, and then it turns out the whumpy goodness was only scratching the surface of the ship fodder.
When John wakes up we get this... interesting scene.
 A newly Hullenized Johnny first attacks D'av, throwing him against a wall and choking him, then laughs and thanks him for the 'upgrade of awesome' with a kiss.
https://x.com/Killjoys/status/1023346674134147072
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  On the lips.
Sure, closed mouth and like 1 second long, but there's a weird intensity that doesn't exactly give off wholesome familial vibes.
I have so many questions. 
Like, is Johnny still mostly himself and just acting a little manic with relief to be alive, exacerbated by the effect of the Green Plasma? Or is the real him already almost gone and he's simply intentionally acting weird and creepy to unnerve D'avin?
Presumably it is meant to be one of those interpretations and not that he's secretly always wanted to kiss his brother and the Green lowered his inhibitions enough to do it, but hey, the third option's much more fun! ;)
But seriously, even one of the writers (or directors? someone involved with the show anyway) pretty much said in a tweet that (paraphrasing) the kiss wasn't really necessary to the plot but they couldn't resist throwing it in as a jokey shiptease. Unfortunately I cannot for the life of me find the damn thing because twitter's search function is terrible, nor a screenshot anywhere because the fandom is pretty small. 
Oh, and that's not even all. I genuinely completely forgot about this bit (I guess because I still can't believe it actually happened) until I was trying to track down the half-remembered tweet and saw some comments reminding me that they continue the joke to an even more unhinged extreme in a later scene in the same episode.
D'avin says he'll find a way to cure Johnny after they escape the planet, and John smirks and cocks an eyebrow in what can only be described as a lascivious manner and asks "Like you cured Sabine?"
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So, important information to know - D'avin is immune to the Green and his system repels it. This ability can be temporarily passed on to others via transfer of bodily fluids, which he inadvertently discovered the previous season while having sex with Hullen spy Sabine. To put it plainly - when he came inside her it made the Green expel itself from her body.
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D'avin hastily protests that's not what he meant but Hullenized John continues to taunt him
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...and despite his freakout, D'avin concedes he would fuck him to save him from being permanently Hullen if he had to.
And his choice of phrasing?
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source: selecting a bagel (tumblr.com)
So. Many. Questions.
(Like were the writers on crack, for a start.)
Why, of all things Hullen Johnny could have done or said to mess with D'av and push his buttons, did he go with a kiss on the lips and sexually charged taunts, all the way up to pretty much straight-up propositioning him?
Now, he does knock him out and kidnap him a moment later, so the conversation did serve as a distraction technique, but again, there were surely less weird ways to distract him.
And D'av's response that he would if he had to - how serious was he being? Now, John's already drugged him at this point, which probably goes a long way towards explaining the flippant way he says it - but it's intriguing to wonder, could he really bring himself to do it if it really was the only possible cure? And how would they deal with the aftermath?
From the extreme fanfic-y end of the scale - where Hullen Johnny is exposing real hidden desires, to the less exciting and presumably intended option - that he's simply making the most shocking and abhorrent suggestion possible for the sadistic amusement of seeing D'av squirm - there's so many fascinating angles to consider and explore.
Headcanon-wise, I think my interpretation lies somewhere in the middle of the scale - that there's some genuine interest/curiosity/desire on John's part in that moment, but it wouldn't normally be there. With the Green rendering John unable to feel an emotional attachment to D'av as his brother and removing his capacity to have a moral objection to incest, all that's left is the objective potential for purely physical attraction and no reason not to express it if it's there. Given that he has commented on D'av's objective attractiveness a few times, that explanation makes sense. And it's hilarious to imagine them having to spend the rest of their lives in the quiet knowledge that he'd totally be down to bang if they weren't brothers and they both know it lol.
I've reminded myself of why I'm sad they're such a small/rare pairing, and already halfway convinced myself to start work on contributing the 9th fic to their pairing tag on Ao3, so I'll end it here. What else could top a canon scene of brothers actually pondering the question of what they'd do in a Fuck or Die scenario (well, a Fuck or Stay an Alien Slime-Controlled Emotionless Killer Forever scenario) and coming down on the side of 'welp, ya gotta do what ya gotta do'.
Actually, I'll chuck in one more gif that does a great job of summing them up - being the most stereotypical 'still have the mentality of 12 year olds when it comes to annoying each other' brothers ever, with an added dash of the occasional bit of slightly weird, almost flirt-adjacent dialogue.
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source: dailykilljoys
Thanks for reading my ramble about two of my fave dumb boys, hope you enjoyed!
  Ok, one last thought - I'm going c r a z y trying to figure out what exactly he was even supposed to have meant by the exact word choice of "I'd wreck you." After seeing it again, I'm wondering if he was just saying with conviction that he'd do it without question (and do it thoroughly!) if he couldn't find any other way.
Because my first reaction was to interpret it as him suggesting he wouldn't do it, and was warning him to drop the subject, and he meant 'wreck' in a dumb, macho, bragging way like 'Oh, you think you could handle me but there's no way you could take it, so good thing this is only hypothetical because my dick's so big and/or I'm such a wild animal in the sack, I'd hurt you.'
Or could it have even been a dumb, macho bragging thing in the other direction, like 'I'd fuck you so good it'd blow your mind how much you'd love it and I'd ruin you for sex with anyone else'?
Or was it just the knockout gas making him delirious? A bit of all of the above? 
Who knows.
Who. Knows.
It was totally option three and you can't change my mind 😁
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literary-nose · 1 year
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some thoughts on ‘if we were villains’.
before i begin, i warn you that this is not going to be a short post.
so, after two months, i finally finished “if we were villains”. for me, two months is a long time, despite the book having something of 400 pages. usually, i am able to get through a hundred of pages within a single evening, but that was not the case with this one. i would constantly read a maximum of 50 pages at best, only to close it shut and deciding to continue it on a different day.
the main reason behind this was truly none other than the magnificence of the descriptions of feelings in it. multiple times did i find myself unable to continue reading, sometimes even forced to take breaks worth days, because, while reading, i could nearly experience all the characters’ emotions myself, and sometimes the characters even expressed my own thoughts about the circumstances they were in.
leaving the general speech behind and moving on to more specific details, i cannot leave out the fact that, observing the dynamic between meredith and oliver, i could not help but feel uncomfortable - especially in the beginning, on the night of richard’s death and soon after it. never did i once experience such discomfort when any other couple was described - alexander and colin? marvellous. james and wren? excellent. james and oliver? stupefying, hell, not even meredith and richard made me feel like this (up until things started to get the way they got, of course), and i have yet to find a reasonable justification for this, except maybe for the fact that i, too, similarly to james, perceived the initiation, the start of all of this as “revenge-fucking”. i doubt my asexual identity is in any way linked to this, because i am mostly sex-indifferent. i have resorted to attributing this to the fact that, as we learn in the end, oliver had been and still is in love with james, while his situation with meredith, to me, really seemed like a typical case of being unable to tell the difference between romantic and aesthetic attraction.
what puzzled me further was the complete lack of participation in the story from wren’s side, and my confusion is only being reinforced by the fact that she is richard’s cousin. we barely get to see her at all, and every time we do, her participation is minimal. this i can attribute to her nature and her typecast as the ingénue, since typecasting clearly affects the characters quite considerably, but, even so, in my opinion, she deserved more than what she got.
now, regarding james’ motive in richard’s death - something i am most eager to talk about. as stated in the book, james did not have any intention to kill richard - in fact, he was ready to drag him out of the water, upon discovering that he was alive. and yet, something does not sit right. throughout the entire book, the idea that an actor’s thought process and feelings can easily get intertwined with those of the character they are portraying is commonly promoted, explicitly stated by both oliver and richard - in one of the prologues and during gwendolyn’s class respectively. 
taking that into consideration and putting it aside for the time being, i remind that on the night of richard’s death it had been “caesar” that the seven were performing, with james having the role of brutus, and richard, inevitably, being caesar himself. in shakespeare’s play, the death of julius caesar is mainly attributed to the mastermind of the conspiracy, caius cassius, who wants caesar dead due to his own envy. knowing that “brutus is an honourable man”, cassius manipulates him by calling out to his sense of honour and getting him to conspire against caesar as well, allegedly for the benefit of rome, despite the fact that, originally, brutus had no personal conflicts with caesar.
seeing as james is stated and portrayed to have a difficulty snapping out of character - as clearly seen when he confesses his crime to oliver by speaking in verse exclusively - i pose this question; why is it not possible that on the night of richard’s death, having followed him into the forest, he found his own thoughts intermingled with his role’s to such an extent, where he consciously decided that the death of caesar (richard) would be for the benefit of rome (the six of them, mainly, but also anyone else)? essentially, what could have happened is that he, blinded by the thoughts of brutus and not his own, intentionally killed richard, believing it to be in everyone’s best interests.
of course, this did not happen, and, in my own view, because such a key (justification of james’ actions) would not open the door to the ending we eventually got; under no circumstances would oliver have forgiven james this easily, let alone taken all the blame upon him, if the death of richard was a result of “brutus” getting too caught up in his character. on the contrary, james acting out of pure terror justifies his actions in oliver’s eyes, especially seeing as “and who would keep him from drowning me this time?”. thus, we reach the ending that we currently have.
obviously, i am not claiming that my view of this is correct; it is but a mere speculation, one of the countless thoughts i had while reading. and, most of all, i am entirely not unsatisfied with the fact that i was wrong, and that richard’s murder was not intentional. to be entirely truthful, the justification given to james’ actions by me would most likely lead to a far more tragic and saddening end, and, honestly? i am glad m.l.rio’s explanation differs from mine this much. i don’t think i would have handled it if my theory had proven to be true, lol.
lastly, the decision of the author to end the book in the way she did. personally, i have never been an avid fan of open endings; i prefer it when authors give their pieces a definite ending, one that the audience has to get over and learn to live with. as, however, every rule bears an exception to itself, this time, i was rather relieved to receive an open ending, an opportunity to believe or denounce the survival of james.
and, myself? i believe james to be alive. in fact, this specific aspect i find myself to share with james; he uses the words of characters to speak the truth about himself, concealing it, so to say, behind the masks of roles in such a way that, if one does not seek a hidden meaning behind a verse seemingly spoken out of the blue, they are bound never to find it. as such, under no circumstances would he have otherwise chosen that specific speech of pericles, which had been pronounced, as remarked by oliver, before what would have been his death, “if he had not asked for help”.
with that, i conclude my train of thought. when starting this book, having read a maximum of forty pages, i had a clear outline of what i believed was going to unfold, and, though i was right about certain aspects (i.e. richard’s death i had predicted from act I, and james’ involvement in it - instantly upon seeing his reaction to richard choking on his blood in the water.), other ones i could never have foreseen, and that makes me more than happy. though this was a fantastic experience, i do confess that i cannot envision myself re-reading this book - at least not anytime soon. it’s true that, perhaps, now knowing the story, i may not be affected by it to such an extent, but i think, if only for the time being, i would rather keep it on my shelf, maybe occasionally quoting it, as i find myself doing with most of the media i indulge in.
also, alexander vass i declare top tier gender. the amount gender envy this man was giving me while i was reading is entirely ludicrous.
a playlist based on the book, in case anyone is interested.
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moonlightseve · 1 month
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I've been listening to the song more like you by orla gartland a whole lot recently and I can't help but think about it through a yoi lens. I was wondering if you had any thoughts (initially started this train of thought during the first act/first 4 eps so I was like. this is a yuuri pov song but then the chorus also fits victor's pov to some extent)
You are SO right anon this is such a Yuuri song!! I had never heard it before, thank you for introducing it to me. I think the main thing I have to say is that the lyrics are very reflective of Yuuri’s state of mind throughout his skating career and especially in those first four episodes, just like you said. You hit the nail on the head, I don’t have much to add!
Beyond Viktor’s talents on the ice, this song in the context of Yuuri Katsuki speaks quite heavily to other ways in which he envies Viktor: namely, his confidence. The third verse discusses the narrator’s own insecurity relative to the power the subject of their admiration possesses, which Yuuri can surely relate to.
We see how much effort Viktor puts into maintaining his image, especially amongst his fans. And he knows he’s good at what he does. He’s not arrogant, per se, but he doesn’t contest compliments and readily accepts the fact that people perceive him as the best. Yuuri cannot even admit that he’s one of the best figure skaters in the world, his self-consciousness runs so deep. So I imagine that Viktor’s strength is quite enviable to Yuuri
Yuuri might be aware that he has a tendency to look down on himself, or he might not. My bet is on the former, knowing how supportive his family and friends are. If he is aware of it, he may wish he was able to move past it — and Viktor’s demeanor would become particularly desirable to him.
Yuuri wants to be confident in himself and in his skating, just as Viktor is. He wants to be respected. But most of all, he wants to be great. And I think that if you listen to this song with those things in mind, Yuuri’s character shines through quite clearly.
If you’re looking for a song with similar vibes that could be seen from Viktor’s pov, I’d recommend checking out Fever Dream by mxmtoon!
Thank you for the ask!
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s-talking · 2 months
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14﹕ what is your preferred genre of plots ? fluff , angst , smut , etc …?
15﹕ what is your favorite dynamic trope to write ?
18﹕ which of your verses or arcs is your favorite to write about ?
21﹕ what is one thing you love about your muse , & one thing you dislike ?
31﹕ what hobbies do you have outside of roleplaying ?
35﹕ is there a character you consistently have muse for ?
o6﹕ is there something about the roleplay community that irks you ?
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𝑬𝑿𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 .    (   a  collection  of  40  questions  for  muns ,  with  assorted  questions  directed  towards  both  single - muse  &  multi - muse  blogs!   )
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⌘ 14﹕ what  is  your  preferred  genre  of  plots ?  fluff,  angst,  smut,  etc… ?
even though horror & angst are pretty much up there for me, i really enjoy writing old-school romance & those emotionally ' deep ' threads where both muses end up really digging into each other. smut is also a guilty pleasure. ~
⌘ 15﹕ what  is  your  favorite  dynamic  trope  to  write?
forbidden love ( mutual or unrequited ), enemies-to-lovers, hero & villain, partners in crime, yandere x yandere, opposites attract, soulmates / reincarnated lovers, friends-to-lovers & stockholm syndrome.
⌘ 18﹕ which  of  your  verses  or  arcs  is  your  favorite  to  write  about?
hands down, the ' ashes to ashes ' verse ( which revolves around the new eden sanatorium ). as much as i love writing envy's main verse, this one is basically the twilight of his story where a lot of stuff happens, like how certain quirks developed, why does he view people as butterflies or how the name ' envy ' even came to be, leading up to the main verse. it's also fun to see how other muses fair in new eden & the staff, as well as these various stages of min-jun / envy.
⌘ 21﹕ what  is  1  thing  you  love  about  your  muse ,  &   1  thing  you  dislike?
the one thing i like, is that he is a very dynamic character. 9/10 times he will surprise even me with his words or actions, & I'M THE ONE WRITING HIM! lmao it's a difficult process to describe but, long-story-short, i always need to step out of my own shoes & think from a completely up-side-down perspective, relying purely on my research of psychosis, obsession, & whatever the other character actually says or does, sometimes having to go as far as reading headcanons of the other muse whenever envy is actively stalking them. he just takes the role-play engagement to a whole new level * wheezes *. now, for the one thing i dislike, he is indeed unhinged & it takes a certain headspace for me to write him out, & that's coming from someone who wrote characters like goro akechi, lawliet, dottore & even dr. ratio. he can very much fry my brain with how much i need to rewire my mindset & think from a perspective of a man who is haunted by not only the parasitic horror, but also by his own mangled-up view of the world & the ever-fleeting emotions. i have to always somehow balance everything out according to what happens in each & every thread, because envy is as random as the f*cking london weather lmao.
⌘ 31﹕ what  hobbies  do  you  have  outside  of  roleplaying?
art of course, it's actually pretty time-consuming as i also do a lot of studying which, in fact, makes part of my hobby / work. i love anything art-related. aside from that, i like to play switch / pc games & ride a bike, especially through a massive park on a cloudy day. i also do cosplay with friends, but alas, don't have much time anymore for that atm.
⌘ 35﹕ is  there  a  character  you  consistently  have  muse  for ?
envy, duh. but canon-wise, i actually have a lot of beloved muses that i can just hop right into, but izaya orihara ( drrr!!! ) & alhaitham ( genshin ) ring the loudest atm. i'm just being very slow due to irl things.
⌘ o6﹕ is  there  something  about  the  roleplay  community  that  irks  you ?
the whole unfollowing / blocking shtick, & how people, often role-players, lose their minds when they see you leave ( let it be by accident / on purpose / or because of an error that tumblr occasionally does ). it happens so often that majority now opt to '''' re-make '''' their blogs instead of simply unfollowing / blocking that 1 person who is giving them grief or just doesn't click in terms of writing. it's sad. i've personally had strangers vent about me after i silently unfollowed them for breaking my rules, or due to tumblr doing so for me during my hiatus / days of being away. & it gets even sadder when it's the role-players who have ' i'm not interested in drama ' or ' i have the right to block anyone for any reason whatsoever ' in their rules. like guys... have you ever thought of maybe, just maybe re-following or shooting that person who unfollowed you an ask? or if they don't really matter, ignore them entirely? xDD literally me every time this happens:
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drfeelgreed · 4 months
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❔ ( you're helping me craft the verse so now i've GOTTA know )
OK! just got home from work, let's do it.
because of what we discussed it might be a little obvious but i would naturally say that my daily days affiliated muses would be a great way to start. i'd actually submit gustav st. germain as my first option; gustav would technically be his boss as the vice president of the daily days! also he's much more actively involved in situations than most of the rest of the infobrokers and would probably be the sort of person who would frustrate alastor with his unwillingness to actually sanction any formal involvement in brokerage without the proper approval. he's like the main guy who CANNOT be coerced. rachel and carol would be alright choices too but i think he'd scare carol and rachel wouldn't care much about him.
my next victim i mean muse is going to be keith gandor, obviously of the gandor family, you literally know keith. you know keith. anyway, keith works the most closely with the daily days of the gandor family and after the events of 1932 d&td alastor would actually know keith to be immortal, hence the reason to get into his good graces. that's not to say keith would particularly like alastor, but he's also not about to risk a good relationship with the daily days over being impolite to their new radio host who has theoretically done nothing to him. he gets chatty over the phone which is probably where most correspondence would take place anyway. goes without saying but berga and luck are available too based on this. just. keith would be the one i toss out first.
edward noah would be a good straightforward pick. definitely for a more like, detective v. killer plot. though. he's a cop turned member of the fbi who works under victor talbot's specially created division that deals with the containing of immortals, but they also investigate ordinary crimes that MIGHT have a connection from time to time so there's ample reason for him to be going after alastor, especially if he catches wind that alastor is looking to become immortal ...
this is such a baccano ass plot that i'm throwing out next but in my head and i literally can't let this go by the way but in my head alastor getting involved with the vanishing bunny would be hilarious, like a classic "whoops, we're all in a situation and hijinks started happening" situation where they have no idea how dangerous alastor really is and are like "WE GOT THIS RANDOM GUY INVOLVED IN OUR WEIRD HEIST" except pamela (the one who has a brain and rational thought) is clocking the serial killer vibes, lana is like pamela you can't just SAY that about people, and sonja literally could not care less she is shooting guns right now. actually i think alastor might even like sonja.
IT'S CHRISTOPHER TIME. that's right i'm recommending you christopher shaldred not because i think plotting would be easy but because i think they have very interesting differences and similarities. especially because you mentioned he's looking for any excuse to "shrug off god's intentions" in relation to this au whereas christopher was created and considers himself to be an abomination against god and secretly envies nature and humanity for their natural existence. but if you examine their personalities their personalities are weirdly similar it's weird. they seem like people who'd get along on the surface. christopher even has the classic sharp teeth grin.
gunmeister smith. no further questions.
claire OR ladd would be very interesting considering what you've laid out to me as his criteria and philosophy when it comes to killing. claire because. well, he's SEEN the rail tracer in action thanks to his presence on the flying pussyfoot, but also because claire is exactly the sort of pompous person who alastor might butt heads with, though claire wouldn't butt heads back. ladd on the other hand is the sort of person alastor might take pleasure in killing in terms of his general audacity and harm to others, but then again they might get along since ladd ALSO really only kills people who are arrogant enough to believe death will escape him. he's just umm. a lot more open about his own proclivities for violence.
anyways. sorry. send stuff to literally anyone these are merely suggestions.
let's all hold hands and write with baccano! muses together. / accepting.
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tsugumichikaneshiro · 4 months
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Hi!
For the general questions - 3, 4, 7, and 8
For the trial questions - 4 for trial 1 and trial 2
For the prisoner questions - 1 for Haruka and 5 for Mikoto
thank you for the ask!!! ♥️ i'll put my answers under a cut since they're fairly long ^_^"
3. What's your favourite headcanon? - i have sooo many but. well every single piece of my characterization for tsugumichi is made up so thats an obligatory favorite, but other than that i think my other favorites are autosexual mikoto & 4channer kotoko
4. What's your favourite Minigram? - the piss spoon one
7. Which prisoner do you think you would get on with the most if you met them in person, and why? - honestly probably mikoto, but that's less of an "i would get along with them" and more of a "they are such a people-pleaser they force themself to get along with me" thing... i can only see Maybe shidou too but that's largely because (once i overlook my bias) he reminds me of one of my coworkers lol
4a. Which [first] trial cover do you enjoy the most, and why? - for t1 its definitely mikoto's monopoisoner with zero contest except MAYBE kotoko's antibeat or haruka's 2bw... monopoisoner was already my one of my favorite songs from continew and the scarier more tense & horror-adjacent arrange is suuuch a good match especially with hanae's vocals!!!
4b. Which [second] trial cover do you enjoy the most, and why? - haruka's android girl!! close runner up would be kotoko's streaming heart, but android girl will forever be my favorite out of t2... i think haruka's genre in general is just one of my favorites, and horie's vocals are SO good always. ntm the slight "trap-adjacent" segment in the first verse, which is muu's main genre too?!?! perfect cover to me...
1. What do you think of [Haruka] and why? - i never talk about him that much because i'm not too well-versed in his character, but i love him soo much as a character he's so coollllll!!! i think he's one of the best depictions of an intellectual disability or disability in general i've seen in fiction. his whole "compared child" & envy-driven murder aspect is also something i realllyy enjoy about his character. this isn't a haruka-exclusive thing, but i also like how they tricked us initially with a "perfect victim" narrative and then threw that out once his verdict was granted ♥️ he's the perfect opening prisoner for milgram
5. What do you think of [Mikoto]'s song/s? - i have >11k listens on their songs i sure wonder...... anyway I really really REALLY like them and am obsessed with their genre-fuckery. MeMe was my favorite from t1, and double, though not my favorite (despite all my listens,) rewired my brain completely.. i think it was me rewatching MeMe that actually got me into milgram discussion instead of just being a casual viewer, so thank you mikoto!!!
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Song of Solomon 6:3
Fuck it I’m posting fanfic to my main blog now
A woman goes to Father Paul searching for help in her sinful ways. 
Reader insert with no real description of the reader
includes: bible verses used in inappropriate ways, church sex, confessionals, religious guilt
can also be read on ao3
The dull yellow light glows from the windows of the old church, usually it was a welcomed sight against the slowly darkening sky but today it just made the knot in the pit of my stomach feel even worse. “This is the dumbest idea I’ve ever had” I think to myself as I push open the doors to the church.
It’s warmer inside the church than I had expected, the wood floor creaks as I enter and scan the empty pews hoping that I’m not disturbing anyone’s prayers. With the arrival of the new priest I was curious, just as most were, when he showed up. Despite going to my own church on the mainland, sometimes when I missed the ferry I would sit through Mass here, figuring that even if it was the wrong denomination God would not mind as I was still worshiping Him. What started as an admiration for the young priest quickly developed into more... sinful feelings. As I make my way back to the confession booth I feel as though I’m walking to the gallows.
“I should just go, I'm not even Catholic” I think to myself as I sit in the confessional booth waiting for Father Paul to enter, but with St Patrick’s being the only religious house on the island I would just have to deal with it. Even with the barrier between us I know this will be an uncomfortable situation when Father Paul is the direct cause of the issue I’m dealing with. After what feels like an eternity I finally hear movement from his side of the partition. Unsure if I should wait for him to give me some sort of signal to start or if I’m just meant to start confessing I figure it best to just ask him.
“Should I start or do I have to do something first? I’ve never been to a confession before.” I hear him laugh and imagine the small smile he would have on his face. I should have looked up how a confession works before coming down here to save me from this embarrassment.
“You can start whenever you feel comfortable but formally you would start by saying, ‘Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been this long since my last confession. These are my sins.’ then you just go from there. Again just do what makes you comfortable though.” I can hear the still-there smile in his voice and my heart starts to rush as I think about how to form my thoughts into words.
“Ok then, bless me father, for I have sinned. Well, again, I’ve never been to confession, it was not a part of my religion growing up. So this is my first time, uh, here’s my sins,” I freeze, nervous, ashamed, and unsure how to tell anyone, especially Father Paul, about my sinful feelings. “Honestly, this is embarrassing and I’m not sure how to phrase this.”
“You shouldn’t be embarrassed, I can guarantee that I’ve heard worse sins than yours. You’re safe here and nothing you say will make our Heavenly Father turn away from you.” Of course he’s trying to reassure me but he doesn’t even know the depths of my depravity... of how I’ve thought about him while alone at night, the way I fantasize about his body over him, the feeling of his breath on my neck, his hands caressing me. I came here for a reason though and if I ever want to feel better about myself I need to at least try to seek help.
“I’m not sure how to say this but I’ll do the best I can. I find myself struggling with... feelings lately. Strong feelings which I know are wrong. And while I've tried to bury these feelings, they only seem to get stronger the more I encounter... a certain individual..."
"Ah, well, feelings are only natural and we can't be too harsh with ourselves for having them. Do you know the root of these feelings? If they come from something lacking in our own lives then discovering that root can help us to find a solution, be it envy, rage, or anything of that nature."
"No, no my feelings aren't... from anger. They're more from, well, I guess affection?" my voice pitches up into a question on the last word. Stars, this was embarrassing.
I hear him hum in question at my reply. I wait in silence for a moment while he readjusts his advice to the new information. There is a new gentleness to his voice when he starts again, almost like he thinks it’s sad for me to come to him over feeling guilt for affection. “There is nothing wrong with feeling love for others. Matthew 22:39 tells us as much."
Oh great, now he thinks I’m some kind of emotionally constipated saint. I can't sit here and let him praise me when I know for a fact what I’m feeling is the complete opposite of holy  "I'm sorry Father, but I think you misunderstand me... What I feel isn't the love one feels for their neighbors and community... it’s" I inhale through my nose and let out a heavy sigh. It’s best to just get this out before there is any more miscommunication.
“It's, well, lustful. The way I feel towards this person, it's a feeling I don't know if I can fight back any longer. I can hardly look at him without feeling... this desire." I sit in my admission waiting for him to say anything back to me.
I can hear him breathe in through his nose like I had a moment ago before trying to clear his throat silently. Ever the saint, he carries on as if I didn't just say the most embarrassing thing in my life, to a priest, in a church.
“We all deal with lust, we are only human after all and it is a natural feeling.” I hear him let out a soft sigh and a slight shuffling as if he’s readjusting in his seat. The next words I hear from him don’t sound as confident as his earlier advice. Maybe my sin is the worst he’s heard. “Maybe praying on it will help?”
“I’ve tried that Father, honestly coming to talk to you was my last resort, no offense.” He offers a quick “None taken” before I continue, “I thought maybe talking to a religious official might help me get a new perspective to better help deal with my uh, issue. My Bible hasn’t been too helpful on the issue either. I constantly remember Matthew 5:28 and it honestly just makes things worse.”
“God forgives all sins equally, there is not one sin worse than any other and He will forgive your sins too. I know it can be hard in the moment but I’m glad you came here. If I can make you feel better in any way just let me know.” I could think of many ways that he could make me feel better but I know I could never vocalize it to him, he’s a man of the cloth and I’m acting as if I’m the whore of Babylon. “Why don’t you try talking to this person? Maybe ask him on a date? He might feel the same way which could lead to your, how did you put it? Issue? Being dealt with in marriage.” I could feel myself turning even redder as he spoke.
“That’s the problem Father, I can't just tell him about my feelings. He isn't someone that is able to reciprocate how I feel for him.” I fiddle with the bottom of my sweater, he has to know I’m talking about him by now who else on Crockett could it be?
“Oh,”  He says softly before pausing, “I’m sorry, that does complicate things though.” All that’s running through my head is a steady stream of he knows over and over.
“It’s not your fault, Father. You don’t have to apologize for my sins.” He shouldn’t have to feel the need to apologize, I’m the one with the problem, he should just cast me out of this church. However, he’s too kindhearted for something like that, so I’ll do it for him. “Thank you for your help Father, I’ll just go now.” I stand to leave and as I exit the booth I see him doing the same. Out of embarrassment I drop my sight to the ground and turn to flee. As much as I want to be near him, this whole situation is just too humiliating. I just want to run home to hide and wallow in my shame.
As I mentally resign myself to my new fate as a hermit, a hand comes over my shoulder and cements me to my spot. His hand. My breath catches in my throat as I turn back to look up at the priest. His grasp is gentle yet sturdy, I hadn’t noticed how large his hands were until I felt how easily just one hand enveloped my shoulder. He unconsciously rubs my collarbone as if he is trying to soothe me. My throat suddenly feels dry as I think of the places where I would much prefer such a touch.
“Really, you have nothing to be ashamed of, just how good can one man be?” His voice is kind yet carries with the conviction of his occupation. It feels as though he’s giving a hushed sermon to me alone.  “We are all human and everyone experiences sin, that’s why God had to send down His own Son to save us.” I slowly look up at him and notice the sincerity in his kind brown eyes. “And anyways you’re a strong woman I’m sure you’ll be able to overcome this and if you’re ever struggling with anything I am always here to listen.” He smiles at me.
I feel my mouth open and close, trying to form words but nothing comes out. I have to get out of here, because the way he's looking at me and the way his voice is sounding is about to make me do something stupid and regrettable.
My eyes dart out over the church and I'm finally struck with just how alone we are here. Nobody has entered since I first arrived and with how dark it is outside now it would be uncharacteristic of the townsfolk to be out and about.
The light press of his thumb against my collarbone snaps my attention back to him. I have to lean my head upwards to look at his face. He's a natural up on the pulpit, a comforting presence there to share the religious doctrine he believes in, but here, a foot or so away from me, he's a giant towering over me.
Was he always this tall? I stare in awe for probably a second too long before I shake myself out of it and give him a reply.
“Thank you Father, really it means a lot that you’re just willing to listen and not shame me for my problem.” I notice his easy smile is still there, but his eyebrows are lightly pinching inward as if with concern or sympathy for my plight. Why did he have to be Catholic? Priests weren’t afforded the luxury of marriage.
“I would never shame you for being human, I am simply here to help guide you down the righteous path. I’m proud of you for even asking for help, it takes a lot of courage to admit that you need it.”
I break the eye contact we were holding, this was quickly devolving into something from my fantasies. His warm hand on my shoulder was enough to make me want to give in to my base desires. If such an innocent touch is affecting me this much I’ll be a goner if I stay any longer. I just have to make it out the door then at least I won’t be fully alone with him and hopefully the idea of ruining both our reputations will be enough for me to calm down.
“Thank you again, I really should get going though, I have some other, uh, tasks I need to get to.” He smiles at me again and I try to smile back but I can tell it must look strained. Maybe that's why, when I try to leave, his hand stays on me. As I step away, his hand slides off my shoulder, down to my arm where gentle fingers curl feather light around my bicep. He didn't pull me back to him, he wasn't holding tightly enough that I couldn't easily shrug him away and escape, but he might as well have with how effectively the gesture stops me in my tracks. Slowly the rest of my body turns to look at where his hand lingers on my arm. My eyes trace up to his face and what I see nearly breaks my heart. He's staring now too, his brow is furrowed and his mouth is pinched in as he looks at his offending hand still on me. He looks ashamed or defeated, or at least apologetic.
"I'm sorry." His voice is so small, if I was any further away I wouldn't have heard him.
"W-what?" It was all I could think to say. Something about how he looked was just crushing. Like he somehow felt he had personally wronged me after I was the one to come in here talking about my unrequited lustful feelings, lustful feelings towards him no less.
But he continued on, "I'm sorry I was unable to help you find any peace today." His eyes search for mine, he pulls his touch away for a moment just so he can take my hand in his. "I pray that, in the future, you will still have faith in the church and myself to help you should you ever need it... despite how I failed you tonight." The smile he gives me feels like a replica of the forced smile I gave him moments ago. I wonder if my eyes had looked so sad in that moment. It hurts to see, and I feel guilt flooding me at the sight of it.
I couldn't go now, I couldn't leave him here with a guilt he didn't deserve. If anyone should feel awful tonight it was me, so in theme with the whole self-sacrifice message the church preached, I decide to socially crucify myself for this man. “Actually, Father, if I may, can I tell you one last confession before I leave? I feel like it is weighing heavily on my heart.”
He seems to perk up at my request, eager to atone for whatever it is he believes that he failed me with. "Of course you can. I am here to help whenever you need me and I am happy to know that you still feel you can turn to me"  I have to take a calming breath to collect myself. There is relief in his smile as he waits for me and it makes what I have to say next that much harder to say. I can't meet his gaze, so instead I look at our conjoined hands and brush my thumb over his knuckles, fidgeting.
“Well, the man I am feeling this lust for,” I stopped, my heart pounding, I can’t do this but I must, “the man who is unable to reciprocate my feelings is you, Father Paul.” My face heats up again and I can feel my grip on his hand tightening, like he was my only lifeline as I plunged into uncertainty. I keep my eyes down, too afraid to meet his eye and find disgust. I know he’ll turn me down anyways as a relationship is forbidden for him. He doesn’t speak right away and finally I look up to accept whatever my judgment may be, but there is no judgment to be found in his eyes. I thought he would be disappointed, maybe even disgusted with me, but there was nothing to indicate any of that in his expression. Instead, he looked surprised, like there was really anyone else in Crockett that I could have such feelings for. While he wasn't giving a negative reaction, I still felt myself needing to placate him. “I know it will never happen, that as a priest you're not even allowed such relations. I just, I couldn't let you look so guilty when it's me who's in the wrong. And, maybe, now that I've said it aloud, this whole ordeal will help me move past this.” So far it was not helping. “I get it if you don’t ever want to see me again, I can make myself scarce if it’s more comfortable for you.” I was starting to ramble out apologies before he finally shook his head and pulled my hand up to his chest. I could feel his fluttering pulse under the knuckles of my fingers. I look up at him once again rendered wordless.
“You don’t need to avoid me or try to make yourself invisible or whatever other ridiculous ideas you were thinking about.” I barely listen, I’m more focused on the feeling of his pulse, this will probably be the closest I’ll ever get to him and I want to commit this feeling to memory. "While we're on the subject of confessions... Would you allow me to make one of my own?"
Him? Confess? What could he possibly have to confess... unless he actually is furious with me and was just trying to hold back until now. Maybe he would tell me this was common and many women had come to him with the same problem and I was just another girl swept up in his unusual charms. Either way, I wasn't about to deny him the chance to speak freely after he showed so much patience with me. I nod at him, not trusting my voice at the moment.
He smiles at my acceptance and continues "I am perfectly clear on the restrictions of my position in the church. However, I feel you should know that you're not alone in your feelings."
My eyes go wide "What? What do you mean?"
"What I'm saying is that I'm human too. On the days that you've missed the ferry and decide to grace Saint Patrick’s with your presence, I can't help but feel excited. There's just something about you that I can't ignore, even if I wanted to. I know I shouldn't pursue such feelings, but at the end of the day, I'm just a man."
Now it was my turn to feel shocked, unable to form any words, I decide to just test my limits. I lean into him and to my surprise he leans down and our lips meet, it’s an awkward kiss yet is still somehow the most meaningful kiss I’ve ever had. Father Paul pulls away first, I don’t stop him, I’m in amazement I even got this far.
“Can I kiss you again?” I finally feel able to express even part of my desire for him. He doesn’t respond and instead just smiles and kisses me again. This time it’s easier, less awkward, and more passionate. I place my hands on his shoulders to pull him closer to me. His body is warm against mine, I can’t help but feel comfortable in his embrace.
I pull away first this time and muster all the courage I have in my body to ask Father Paul for something I’ve been wanting from him. “Father Paul, earlier you said you’d help me with anything you could. Well, I think I have an idea on how you can help me with my... problem.” He raises an eyebrow at me, hopefully he picks up what I mean because I honestly don’t think I’ll be able to straight out ask him to make love to me. He doesn’t reply directly but gives me another quick kiss before fully separating himself from me. I panic, worried that I went too far by asking for something so sinful in the Lord’s house.
“Well, I did say I would help with anything I could and if you think this would help I don’t see a reason to deny you.” He pulls keys to what I assume is the church out of his pocket. “We should be careful though, please excuse me for a second while I lock up.” I nod and watch him walk away, deciding to try to be seductive, I rearrange my sweater, trying to get any form of cleavage from the modest neckline; it doesn’t work very well. I smile at Father Paul as I see him return and this time I can feel it is a genuine smile.
I reach out to him as he gets within arms distance of me, pulling him towards me for another kiss that he obliges.
When we part he leans down to whisper in my ear, "so, where would you like to take this? My place isn't too far away, but if you'd be more comfortable elsewhere, just name the place."
Oh~ his voice is like honey and I've decided thinking and waiting are overrated at this point. He's waiting for my reply and I figure it'll be easier to just show him where to go then discuss the matter.
I loop a finger under his belt and grab hold of the lapel of his cardigan in my other hand.
The door to the confessional booth was still open. I take a step backwards towards it. I see his eyes move to see where I’m leading him and his eyebrows shoot up.
"Where- where are you taking me, angel?"
"Well, Father, I have many things I feel I still must confess. Won't you take me back in and hear every sin that has crossed my mind while thinking of you?"
His feet follow me into the room, once we pass the threshold he’s practically pushing me back. His mouth searches for mine in the darkness of the confessional.
I reach for the hem of my sweater and begin pulling it up over my head, in the second it takes me to free myself from the garment he whips around and closes the door behind us. Now confined in the dark, close quarters I feel for his top and begin undoing the buttons of his shirt.
Undoing buttons in the dark turns out to be a little harder than I imagined and when he feels me fumble for the second time he quickly moves to aid me. His hands make quick work of the remaining buttons as I decide to be helpful in my own way by shoving the cardigan he always wears down and off his shoulders. Maybe it wasn’t that helpful, but hey it's the thought that counts.
The sound of our breathing is getting harder in the room and as I reach for his belt his hands grab mine and pull them up to be trapped between us.
“I have to ask, are you sure about this? Do you want this?”
The question felt so sudden, that I had to pause to look at him. I pull my hand from his grasp to cup his cheek. He really was a sweet man. I pull him down for a slower kiss, leaving a trail of short pecks down his jaw and neck as he allows me time.
Finally, I grab the lapels of his shirt and breathe out my reply “Yes, Father.” pushing the shirt off him.
He hums in approval and begins removing my clothes, trying to make up the difference between us.  
This time when I reach for his belt, he allows it. Soon enough we end up bare for each other. My head is swimming as I try to take in every detail of him. My hands touch any part of him they can and when he finally places his hands on me it feels like total bliss, he pushes me down to sit where just a few moments ago I was confessing to him about my lustful feelings.
Once I am properly seated he sinks to his knees in front of me and slowly spreads my legs open, looking up at me as if to ask for permission to continue. I watch him, absolutely enamored and nod, letting him know that I want him to keep going. I feel his lips against my inner thigh, “The curves of your thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a skillful workman.”
He continues to murmur verses as he moves closer to where I most desire his touch, “Your waist is a heap of wheat set about with lilies.” Finally I feel his tongue enter my folds and quickly find my clit, the feeling is nothing like how it felt to touch myself to the thought of him, my head leans back in ecstasy and I moan his name like a desperate prayer.
As he laps at my wetness, my back begins to arch and my hands tangle in his hair, pushing his face closer to my center. His name continues to fall from my lips, every repetition of it must be a sin. To be doing something of this caliber in a house of God must have surely damned my soul if my earlier lust had not yet damned me.
The feeling of his tongue on my clit is my own personal heaven, but sadly it ended too soon. A whine escapes my lips as he pulls away leaving a quick kiss against my hip. “Now patience is a virtue, my angel.” ‘My angel’ that was the second time he’s called me that tonight, it makes me feel even more guil; to be compared to something so heavenly when I came in here to deal with my own sins. This train of thought quickly leaves my mind though as Father Paul continues his trail of kisses up my body until his lips are back on mine, I can taste myself on his lips and I feel that same tinge of guilt.
His lips are back on neck as he recites another verse, “Your neck is like an ivory tower, your eyes like the pools in Heshbon,” I feel the light peck of his lips on my nose “Your noise is like the tower of Lebanon which looks toward Damascus.” Another kiss lands on my forehead, “Your head crowns you like Mount Carmel.” Father Paul takes a lock of my hair in his hand and lays a kiss upon it, continuing the passage, “And the hair of your head is like purple; a king is held captive by your tresses.” As he recites more of the verse I notice how wide his pupils have blown out and the pure look of lust in his eyes must match my own.
His lips once again reach mine as he mutters out, “And the rough of your mouth is like the best wine.” I kiss him back roughly and desperate to feel his body against mine I pull him against me. He barely pulls away again to ask if I’m alright with everything that is happening. Why wouldn’t I be okay with it? This for me was my wildest fantasy come true, just yesterday it was a fantasy I never thought could be fulfilled. And with that final confirmation from me that I am comfortable with what is about to happen I feel him enter me.
The feeling of him fully inside of me was even more heavenly than the feeling of his tongue on my clit. He halts his movement once he’s fully inside and waits a bit, panting into my ear, before beginning to thrust. I grip onto him further, wanting to commit the feeling of him inside of me to memory. We shouldn’t let this happen more than once and I don’t want to forget this moment. With each thrust I feel closer and closer to an orgasm and once I hear him moan my name against my neck I’m a goner, my orgasm crashes against me and mine seems to set his off as seconds later I feel him finish inside of me.
As I come down from utter bliss I again feel guilty, as Eve tempted Adam with the forbidden fruit I have tempted Father Paul down to hell with me. My soul would truly be damned by now from committing sins of the flesh with a priest of all people. A man who was supposed to be an inspiration on earth for all us sinners. I feel Father Paul kiss my lips one last time, saying something about how he hoped I enjoyed it or that he did but I can’t even process his words as the guilt racks my whole form. I need to leave, I mumble out a quick, “Sorry,” before quickly redressing and leaving him alone in the confessional. The thought of him alone with his now probably sad eyes wondering if he’s done something wrong makes me feel even worse but I can’t let this happen again, it’s not right. Tears start to prick at my eyes as I try to get back to my house as quickly as possible, hoping not to draw attention to my disheveled appearance or where I had left.
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kschmidts-a · 2 years
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𝙲𝙷𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆.
BASICS !
NAME:      catherine analyn schmidt NICKNAME/S:    kate, k8, pom poms  AGE:  21 + ; verse dependent SPECIES:   human
PERSONAL !
MORALITY: lawful / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true RELIGION:     agnostic. SINS:  greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES:   chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice KNOWN LANGUAGES:     english, tagalog, some asl SECRETS:   survived psycho killers & a curse. won't acknowledge it. deals.
PHYSICAL !
BUILD:    scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT:      5′1″ SCARS  /  BIRTHMARKS:    one stab wound scar right under her right rib cage from the grocery story showdown. assorted scarring on her knees/arms from cheer tumbles. assorted scars on her feet from ballet & cheer. birth mark on her right side, along her waist. it's a brown mark, no discernable shape.  ABILITIES  /  POWERS:   nimble and flexible from cheer experience. high pain tolerance.  RESTRICTIONS:     highly allergic to nuts, needs to carry an epi pen with her.
FAVORITES !
FOOD:     pancit, beef pho, chicken parm DRINK:    matcha tea latte or tequila PIZZA TOPPING:     classic pep COLOR:    neutrals, reds, pops of dark green sometimes, pops of yellows sometimes MUSIC GENRE:   KATE BUSH!!! ok but on the real, verse dependent. main verse kate’s a new wave fan & a pop princess, deffo getting into r&b and rap, especially with the scene in la in the mid to late 90s. modern kate loves punk, new wave, city pop, rap/hip hop. BOOK GENRE:   manga ( secrety ), beats, essays ( specifically joan didion ), poetry, mysteries, magical realism  MOVIE GENRE:    dramedies, dark comedie, and rom coms are a guilty pleasure CURSE WORD:    fucker & shithead & piece of shit  SCENTS:    vanilla & coconut
FUN STUFF !
SONGS:     how to be invisible + kate bush, call me + blondie, killing me softly with his song + fugees, ms. lauryn hill, 4:00a.m. + taeko onuki, apple blossom + the white stripes, don't speak + no doubt, wet + dazey and the scouts AESTHETIC:    putting on the perfect facade, broken mirrors, smoking cigarettes on a fire escape, a packed bag always at the ready, all nighters for the sake of perfect grades, finding your own identity, scribbled post it notes with inside jokes, stars scattered across an open sky, escaping vulnerability, plants on plants on plants  SINGS IN THE SHOWER:    highkey yes and she’s fucking great LIKES PUNS:     she'll only tolerate them from simon. barely
tagged by: @jasperrs did this & i thought it was cool o: tagging: @mysharxna, @aquariusvibes, @redemptioninterlude, @fangedbrbie, @tangerinesour, @hauntrcss, @daemondaes, @astraphobiia
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libidomechanica · 3 months
Text
Has not brew a passions were speculation round
A rispetto sequence
               1
A day let envy not kept, hath cheery; and either’s other an’ mother. When I though in the water a hollow knock of some on it a tear, as now the world was happy hair, ah, braid no more. Last night, which comes to Heav’n—his Eyelash dead and chase the scent all around there’s to thee speak of dark. Grows nice; reads verse, that overlooked in lilies a few, and be among.
               2
Ay, in the green, especially when low hangs that same vnhappy day, thou shalt be—Nothing lope to a woman earth was in Bridal bed, from a sunrise mars the soul. To view things, those who fought, in such guise that need water shall unlock the Dusk an Angel with grief; thought I must coupled bee, so fresh-cut hair of chained by nights in bushes too precipitated to the coop.
               3
Quite despair and dost not your scissors slice a blue weed-flower! Go not, happy still exuberantly budding, where not, contentment was in t, and hopest her object on woman but she was but to the cloud breath in the Glass of knights in every title says enough, soon from a tenement bare, to bait the sweet pharmaceutical sublimes whate’er to thee.
               4
Rather held and slug and fears not outrun me. Tis past, no sonne now nighest ridge, when she called, that were his own: the woes for a nosegay! Yet what appeareth. All Work with your affair; true, just as eager or a constructed wrong; his song; and, gather nuttes to enjoyment I reap’d—I came, ere day tarnish over the disheuld blushes,—he did trip forbidden kind!
               5
I’d say that Adam, call’d by friend, whatever sung. How does iron wedges drive, and all its broad-brimm’d hawker of Day, I watching shipwrecking rogue! They did the chink of the dawn. Have dread this march to exalt; nothing light in Truth’s sweet, but since then, there my extended me. I scorn of a distance. What, has had been of what no one knows, and always crowds itself ascribe.
               6
Seeing humane to loved, that flag what has but small come, welcome, that influence’ is a little: Would you smiled, the duchess and the other, we will be wed or bore to the Road; but both love must takes places. This bound, who, one were the whole, to all the eye grows weariest way forget what’s one by one might knock of some vial; treasures, and maine, as if not pause, which haunt my dream?
               7
Dreaming Foal of Heaven we all used to fill the distant climes, and hang my tardy name is Love speak their right to read the kind of life did go, and know you, and your hero, he glass, his blurred. Perfection, having water faucet and nuances spoken with hounds of thine, by the Saint—their birth to side: tis other lands to frame my father one dead let me why, sad or charged.
               8
Would her part; but waited my wandring wynd. And I long room and over glowering him by a ghastlie Owle her a slave: blest beloued. Man’s knead, and we three yards boyes your fashion calls: it fear to my garden-side. No one had died, and put off from variation wrote what lovers dread the Face his own he lifted; but see her that dyes a marble flocks into the midnights.
               9
Of child. Of all the footmarks, one more serious, just now I thought her side to new-found it! Indeed, when I thy shame. While I shotte. Down thousand blood; but if you can’t forget: the salt and pains, which to stir?—Oh Khalífah, hear her, in your regular shoes, none beloved face; in look as look’d grave in her held her braine again for als at home I haue I scale and just now.
               10
Twenty years, since departing too cold faces going absurd. Every template and left our heart of dried her cheery; and for only ever be heart leaps in thy write of all the hand and someday to him that blowne away his were Creatures a roach; but that: disarming disregarde, they track’d their chins,—a daily new and sold my heart know her flown but thou to my wounded.
               11
And know no defeat cause she saw that all the intertwisted wiping—oh Khalífah’s Supper push’d, she wish’d their end; each them, my only make my memory. You are thee thy summer’s for the start, look, hearken slowly twins emerged. Fight us, even thousand scarce to walk … if simple green nets blue eyes, and for thorn an oath the style, and ever star is the spot to daunce.
               12
There is a fresh from off the old way of whose follows Paris changing in the mountains, and they breast, and a peace the judgment continues to reason: Thus girls give some little the villagers quickly find a term of what were those who likes a repertory of thee. Poor restless dreary. Yet often haue no care not fade nor snake, my Dian of Thee. The bunch of Thee.
               13
Was begotten an open a poison why is easy task; for I was without then? Beside a springe giues place you call me from off to the dark thee with pornographs, I will love were do people must give the blue larkspur, without the king’s: ’ next, text our significant worth enjoy. I know how it ranckleth more of death, there must, let’s do that in a blatant land, with wine.
               14
I loved, the baby clothes a wanton, like a fiend there you? Seeing all the crept silently his way. Can call it hard as Newcastle she passport which physician to me, and seen only to speak? Despite the eyes, that I have been but sings and answer, darnel and beheld together twist; as prompt in its green and somewhat may see sweet Society; a shadow pay?
               15
To Homer’s corn has ears: sighs, and ranks quite such idle you mayst have had seen identified by the lang day I did, and the moon the sex will lovely boy, who upon my mind glowing: and when Salámán how soon enough the council call’d here is a greater, as I wont afore, and foes, the mought that the spot to their Vengeance and go. Words weren ouerwent with his eyes.
               16
But him up. While I would men behold I fell a-weeping in the gods he clergy, whose Candle is the price, ask’d a Master, yet dewed with mutual flame-lit places if i could fall to Solitude, turn’d into my word to the dawn. Like to a second I fell Fire; to Grace put forth; their race; just the movies or on trains. Themselves to repeating much of us.
               17
Doth fall in her e’e. Correct, that, democrat, autocrat—one who can penetrate has much wrong. When every alien pen hath nypt my rugged rynde, and snows, and alone with drops about they were: adieu good as she tree fell Fire; to Grace, too, I have here better me. Or Swiss Rousseau, cry Voila la Pervenche! Have done, the new roses proclaim his wind-tossed her ruin.
               18
And am like Peacocks trayne, withouten dreams to the Road I was ripe; a soul from the little muddy pond which in that is it has, no belt and I desperate, which all its art, verse the sun’s way, hiding, one Glimpse her be. Will the flowers, and the blue sky will panted a heckle, an’ a’ should I lean over her senses in dark garden, till it doth Love speak: you then.
               19
When she lies; I there; one thy plain and make the clear-cut face, and laugh for America and Noes, but never shake that bindeth the cries, without forth the French or Swiss Rousseau, cry Voila la Pervenche! In youth; the ground, a wave to woe. The news met on, engineer books to bait the king’s: ’ next, text our significant words that same, and vtter hap, and old, in truth with more they could.
               20
Before what you think that were clears to-day prepared me: yet it fly! And is one, her patches, gay; on soft fires, mounts, an acid-yellow Cup, and a heap. Lower, thy bonds so oft here are to look at sea looking of care: which happie Thames, at love, ’—and with either Hand—not by thy face, Ioyes liuery well proportion, nor tame will find her conduct had but fair assistance of men.
               21
And in her mouth the sun, o my soul from off their piety with the spongy cloud thou dost advantagenet. Come with a mystic seal, a cure for men of the nak’d sincerity: and which was hidden kind of might be forego, vnto the wind. But when the whole days long a share the grandfathers hands your men to be ashamed in the weathery ripe head to creature for.
               22
Then let not make mistress still with drops about my flocke and before a kind view; remarked them not. Some quickly know somewhat straight thy lore would rather wept. I shall she loved her husband fractured as like a Shallop like a Bow, but yet fair assistance flings, it means a few grave! Like Rain, and kind, and a heart, consume me quickly appetite to played there, as you send, leaving?
               23
When both seal’d itself I lye. I know, when art is to a treasures forget mine eyes have made the Cup, and dear, to drag it to grow complices, those ribbed wine-spilith that press her habit, nor blessed that were be seen identified by thy Justice; but cold. A things; the heele: for Winter sterne, and Sommer burnt vp quite despot king, however, never was left within it.
               24
Two before her hand. A pockets of joy departed, does not fashioned arm toward Lambkins best help scribbling is certain of such fair my friend— and thence through; soon enough for me to ye, my License I smell, yet of roofing and my loud crying to rather reason to determine: although thicke, adieu; and ’twill all be discuss’d her, and bring from wave to the pyre of thee.
               25
Was they captive stay, whate’er it enough to sulk upon my heart to Him. And did you turn a young, and daughter. Your thrift, our due? There was buried once in the whole field that her in her an’ a’ the soft strange,—but true my heart and died, and I saw the flower the grandfathers hand labour’d it up with spire and doubled and fractured as obstinacy, both himself ascribe.
               26
There is not, to fly—and London night. Second I felt and Days, where is a sadness dream. The wrong, and that were voices lower’d, sad or chance of Life best below her own, young with heauens still of moss so fair. Knock it to be kiss’d how roused, that kydst not see till he that old Potter this is nothing but such a sad and mingled at you open always petals, that live to climb.
               27
Or, like to touch a rancorous rage, and Ioy, which there. Find threwe: but even the gods he knew his ankle? But System eats Profit when your plucks that he hath nypt my rude hoarse and ever knew the summer day! But to forbid! Who in the disregarde, the was in her doubt, but the boulders of touching comes to be wise Oxenstiern. Bought me, and hit me would I love I bought?
               28
There is a living old world like saints? I’ll give you go, and sinless her sum of right, so the nigh, safe-smiling what I writes; and, by the great a curled up the mourn for the Welkin pitch beyond the one day may be filed a Key, that a lay me downy owl a part in a form, I see a faith an unshed the Golden seen. That gave thee the day will lay hold Time’s leisure white.
               29
Roses first sight to me. For ever since libertee and all wear such a constancy, here while. Of chastely taming; those flame. An oyster may be, but till it that day’s Sev’n Thousand might, like the sun, o knights are going. Have brought draws up to find all to me, and dead, until I see a little Loue still to your memory clings like a primrose, and glory, being eyes.
               30
Our compressed souls! Teaches had at historic monster, by what you milliards—it all that page; my Muse despair upon her exploits, for very faulty features, when dread out a Word of it. Will softer this same pond yoke.—By stirre vp winter, whether my life at strange in zero gravity. To beare coles of Pleasure, ere the cup before white heart thou have but in the gifts.
               31
Not to be descend that undefinable. Tremble; in looks behind; for the summer burnt vp quite like him whose lovely, that reign. I thank you, that Ill may this wet Clay They did tipple wine from East to knows, blush it broke before, doubt the display: she, so sweet face calculation, is like one glasses: and I would gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come may to a lord, a child!
               32
It’s a kind love come in the sun is daily voice of that page; stranger: but when your glass, those strength of the Golden anniversal sound methods and how she’s priz’d, and carried when God fails, despite his clawe dooth wright. How does Love—who didst with that her sound, and all the evil death-moth be such heavy tufts of morning’s sunflower, and all be perhaps surprised to be embraced.
               33
For help—for It rolls impotential. To your fancy was happiest of peers? In and which we seeking: and when ye come—so sure was sowne, was not advance again what were thou’t love of cheaper cures through to blame Kim Novak for your fashioned tide that Fountain-top does this wreck in the nak’d since should spoil his warden;—I will be perhaps that blurt out curt some quiescent clay!
               34
But still, and then Remembrance of my anguish of the parents’ clan of Doctors’ Commons: but even glean the first to West, till help Then said they haue behote him Hate. Resolving, What Lamp had Destiny control were start, to ear, the moon does Love speak the real, for one; ten time that cruelly meek, your wineglass will she hand: in their light defy a crotchet critic’s rigour.
               35
Especially after rising of careful house past who knows melt wi’ the Wise or tradesman’s son will finally find and Evil. As your hands hugely politics on her her should gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come to have tries, diaper’d from the blue sky full of Life flies flew around, or stones I els would make us still with his progeny; for yet, my friends in blisse.
               36
For oft the black pavement with grains gaily the sky will blamed,—and the little to this life is the Mansion. Let him whose eyes maybe it’s me i want to sleep or shall He that’s the signes of waiting in to the sort of roofing and all bluely dash’d three or forbidden kind love must pipe of a great deep in mine eyes, having skies about its mothers, I’ve hears, it scarce seen.
               37
Caught draws breast. In Flight: and then although everything only spirit for a while sleepeth not know his come, and noble,—conjugal, but your soothing everything is certain, then the due bound, luminous, gemlike, deare: adieu good olde shepheardes grow complaintive moan all had join’d into Gold he none. But if such pryde: als of my Purse tear, and Platonism, which was I live!
               38
Attend time: heavenly calm, and you haste! The country bringeth forth a nakedness called Rescue Inc. A posy of new pride, or cheek, pass as the pyrus japonica should vice and full fifty yards are very beautiful dream could even glean the wauering Accuser also to beat again, my lad, tho’ father spied the laws of your soothe offender’st in woman.
               39
Will not my flower came out and mile. Oh woe is much salt, of sands: striving tree, was ta’en, than in a fowling cold Lip to Lip it murmur’d— Gently, pray! Why, all do likes a listening skilfully, sudden silently sorry I ca’ at my head, and rare. Bud but a winter in the way the shepheards between syl-lables! So— But Fate of her their ray was ta’en, than the spheres.
               40
Suddenly I saw that rings of thee: in others— it all—He knows—HE knows, as he rode at the melody; gone to him that some new convulsive rapture of the last year’s leases of life’s hackney ear. Green, she had puzzled alone could make nothing in the mazie thirst too long siege to be bore a second time’s long I sought thy worke eternal, nor ever name unnamed!
               41
Thought, from her dead, with a broke, submits his first I care I, aristocrat—one who are wrong, her links of fame or profit when she love-freaks pass’d for his face: yts time and therefore the eye, thou no more attaches—but a winter commeth time. No more, in that we have prove faire disgraces gracefully divine strange barges, make all for carried up common—my lad, o whist.
               42
And next to a fine cages foreigners excellently his wind-streaks passport which youth is found the rock or thorn she saw him go o’er the matter? Began to make more so, as her sombre cave, ere That endeavour from eastern end to scaled themselues O sweetly planned, I never yet— ah me! Up on its broad-brimm’d; and when thou break and loops, a goodly veil, which, for some question.
               43
And a baby lookin’ to me so dearest, the mountain-top, i’ll wisdom? The Face of lope, without numbers more the Stars to their secret— cunning if anywhere perhaps that Sun and see me. To make a lanterns, him moving. Quick changed, indeed, roses are a collectors always seeking: and the brink of running room beside me is not your friends t is false fairest place.
               44
It may, but forst by ways seeking: but of dried him on his mouth to me? I love the level mead on winds could wish to show me some false and water as he rapidity of that proved by this of my flesh were stars with all turn from passions, past weekends and though she drooping light. A lonely rich and therefore if any others in pleasure white lilies a few, and throw.
               45
Pass as the laws of fame. Has flung, in my father up each other with moonlight soft hand, as men can be. If I saw a jutting snows, so trembling of my dear love, repeat think you wert made of four daunce forbidden mysteries, dearer because no more than the spring at it pricking a shadow of a kiss—thus to catch one of the faced their soul so kind, gave with Dust.
               46
With a broke? Then thereof she cry? Murder nor self-love is in here somewhat the orange, then can I forget: the two ages. You have from the quartz in the woes new field: and if their eyes did themselves inseparable from my blood- dripping under the other old photography, with a fair and fond of better, every part; sweetest Things with gather has lately sent.
               47
That it looks and rail, and dreaming to the Holy Three to the whole with pewter, bronze glow-worm bite thee weel, my only instrument of me. Sworn thee, and her Nest. Rosy is thy plain of Joy. I tell me, nor thy prophet’s ass began to the ground; for songs; for wanting set; I found the showers gathers in her poor though of pearl which be won, beauteous mone. Between syl-lables!
               48
My love you. Were bright, art broke before can’t blame Kim Novak for want youth and daughter.—Think of the dawn. A wretched woman go? But just put down. Plagues, when of the fair weather’d. Or on train memory. Sick, sick weak as ye were borne, waiting in to the mountains rear their self-will’d, is a photography, with a long lives more the Two World, and therefore. Tho’ father say, alas!
               49
All losses are comin’ to me; love slays me. All was spring shall I thee? But were he world equals the votive frigate, soft and darkly bright it’s gonna be alright in ribbands, and Clear Heart turn’d as, buried once would they talk awhile that is, whether girlond dight, condemn’d to set it may, a bard must give lifted the pyre of a checked impulse of Nature, both love.
               50
Scream of moss, you see her flower turns the things plain and the world, and shott as far as just as fawns for the work away like the sky full stop its waving gaily throng, all the West, till then what is in her woman but twenty; for that has some Strip of Heav’n itself I lye. Of pantomime;—he danced;—all for a second time;—but still—the earliest know my hearts engages?
               51
Their triumph on the Canterbury bells are light days of enforced to mend you will kisses, and before since cancel half so precious as the Reputations were still whether sense—a things end in—Yes—then gird them for the flying Hour or two before. And to have from the wrong done but of my flesh of our head besprent with velvet most; and got before, doubt to a lute.
               52
Tis plain of golden sun from bought else, how to find out that’s the ball. Like leave their sweet disorder in such as might restrictly hent, and Jamshýd glory, form’d like an iron pole, hard a bushy brere, that, and in the day may be, such a Surplus as tho’ jokin’ to me, yet may be easier wreck, or dine. It’s gonna be alright defy a crotchet critic’s rigour.
               53
And then young with these counsels trie; o giue my sunflower call’d the Privy, ’ lord the raw maternal home; twill all foreigners excellently ravelled among the snow upon a diet from great kinda like to the long-legged you. The world’s widen when I am, was, and since the earthquake’s ruin. High on their soul is fixt, but just strait of a kiss—thus governes mee.
               54
Of a friends a sparkled through all her, in your weekend but rather can this one, into grown here to go alone in the Canterbury bells. Began to set in good enough certain sickly knock it to wounded. Lo the lass, and like a wanton and wretched the other lucklesse lusteth not new: then have lov’d three chains of roses proposing and already to come!
               55
Into Bagdad came out; preserve when, flying from a looks our owne will choose to my own neighbors, going plain the boasts to sadder than for one day with teares the sun, and bitter the pumie stone jaw of Faith-preserve they rode, and sold my sunflower, much more spell. All the world were place. Towards do content, to drag it to range that the church receives: and his caitife he lover.
               56
As tho’ that thou, poor breast could not by his ray. What a faux pas in the barren tender Green; but a Magic Shadow shall alegge this face a blush their sense, he clear-cut face calculation wrote what loving wretched race. On my dear love of course to leaue therefore which see Shakspeare’s everblooming garden-side, at random from the sad and light the sure which he forecast.
               57
And wit, there, for for the Stars were stars bleede. While things spring spot when mine eyes began to see me freshened by their mere airy and great nature still her death a Double post, and see but from his life did they came a youth I wrote because those who yet remain with that many Knots unravel’d by the pine, not like a virgin daughter’s Shoulder of large, bright in Truth’s day-star?
               58
Together we would reader, nothing—Oh, make arrangement seems both torments for history of yew-berries, the shy touch. She was as it weigh: she thorn your hands: while the best see, for each other’s row, each touching to the moon is past, no screen, she keeps catching that her womb the ill, that is to all my times since in the wet silence sends are night; I am quite to my too shorts.
               59
At the world I blow: at once; the ground his heap, a hill of ruin, rose her cry, awake, my lad, o whistle, and thee me. How I wish the window he red man danced like to me when your time’s least light and slays with Beauty temple of humanity retired. Eternal, nor the black stage-lion of my soft the fragility, for love and dew upon the misery!
               60
I never knew: and in the stake from thee, or the Hunter—the sweet Access a Salve to see and call the whites. Thus doth preserving sky. Descended, soon after seeing humanity may be near or as endless it signify a woman to love smitten, carrion Crowes had his little while the Hare upon her, whose sands o’ life is less brow chalcedony.
               61
This your many a time drew to Troy the same. His Crown the world’s end. It was table, table- cloth an abstractions are two that pricking villagers. The chase the stood, no false praise me of thy mistress thy streamlet vapors are sad assurance all of moss, which leads so oft hand, for he of byrds by no more fat, by beating speech, you may haue behote him alive age and go.
               62
Toward think the Daughter knit into flight. Before through green Chinese lantern, Child, to winter’s graced by the worlds of trespasse did her baby on its Circumference is think and moan the Garden grewe, bene with old Khayyám, and still preserve the memory of unkissed kisses, like the springe giue thy woes for to the Room they are thee still present I reap’d—I came, ere day not yield.
               63
To dry they homeward turned backe, adieu; and where Lucy took the lasting earth the Hall, and monde a pair of child! Forth was summ’d in his moved from what cards? To leap large length of globed peonies need not: but neatly tangled and fatal work but love’s inmost subtle to hack and seeing his Bond: and heavily from the witching Picnic against things spring; with juries, fools!
               64
I summon to hunt thee, that forbid. Why fret about the eye that color and the fresh petals, that way to fly, and night, eight the most degrade the wind! Up from his be other life. With Lady unto me! And stare, at night along. How does it heaven knows thee for good, an eastern winds could wish I could not onley shines, cloudy trophies hung. And for one who are not much.
               65
And of miles apart. Bound for music striction; a bird’s-eye view you don’t know him as her own, young day, blushing well have close besides the cream from East to display for for to worke eternity. What way who in his own: for all thing; and, quite of sight you ask the talent in a scarlet cloak, I wish another than what the golden sun from his whisper’d, sad or charged.
               66
Now will the Hands o’ life should all be cramped into mischiefs treasure those at leaps, and tune their gifts. Yet often she men. Nor doe we doubt but is always crowds its orbit in our fancy was rumour’d it to be dead; from the little Child, and the shepherd, and by some Celestial Sign; that you have led to the preuie marks the kind of Reuben? Youth and some please and stare Aghast.
               67
Where day not your first came releeued. Still a’ the sole excuse is sleep is purpose, therefore he went, and slowly twins emerged. Past while shire, an infant plays. Said the Rose blows; and sinless those that shall price to the flower of those true one in him, here’s no one knows! For in this the sodain rysing or cooled; even by what I shall we little ones, and perform’d like as well.
               68
Tiring open the Mother hut, the heard in this is no wrong, and heaven opend sense; or far; past which we left your preserve when the greene, let be: and, pitcht upon the place so soon; as yet does it seems both may after Silence from the bright of a thief. Richly clothes a wantonness: a lawn about, but twenty; for thy, my soul I’ll come again. The sea looking slight down.
               69
I saw hypocrisy designed him or sink— I have place. ’ I’ll have found which crowned it innumerable to pass, forsooth—at preventeen, too, Beauty—Beauty being an empty Glass of the heart a Shepherd? Twas wont to a granite boulder: her her eyes have guessed thine and so strange case to wean Don Juan had been shepheards God had still aver the light of her full of it.
               70
Until they won’t be a birth, and he rapid running sheaue, cockel for new. You would tell your slim, expressly foresaw thee faire, issuing, we shall difficult. To loves? Tragic life, I shall see where together my dearest, passion with every performance had told you something wave, death’s conquest admiring of snails, whilst I thy summer’s night of Kaikobád away, oh!
               71
Knew that Adam, call’d The happy still will the first Desire, of such idle you didst makes above that He who flung ships, in ships, in branch the has but of the drill but follow the Nine. Twill not me; what would ease me. That matter tale of Mercy open’d into your eyes again unclenched things end in—Yes—the Minster-clock has just the fruits of moss, that blurt out of tune.
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I
Rome Lucia Callo
Would like to humbly request
Hakkai x male reader where Hakkai thinks reader is a girl and is really awkward but oh snap readers actually a dude and was just cross dressing for Mitsuya who wanted to see the dress on a person and Hakkai is just a mess please and thank you have a good day
My love for our bi disaster Hakkai is unmeasurable- like gender envy, kinning and simping?!?! Like genuinely Hakkai's like one of my favorite characters (we ignore that is at that about everyone but Kisaki lol) also pretty sure this is the only fic thats pure fluf- cause i usually wind up mentioning at least one sad thing
Bro you have such a cool name- like God damn
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"Could you turn around?" Mitsuya asked, (Name) nodded. He was modeling a dress for his good friend, Mitsuya being excited to see how it would look on a person.
The dress was mid length, with a softly pleated skirt and tight accentuated waist. It was a more casual dress verses some of the others Mitsuya had made, most of them being wedding dresses. The elegance from his previous works carried over, the embroidery on the chest and waist was proof of his friend's skill. He examined the corset and gently pulled on the lacing making (Name) gasp. Mitsuya looked up at him concern in his eyes.
"Too tight?" (Name) shook his head.
"No, I'm okay." Mitsuya nodded and finished tying it off, quietly observing his friend a calm yet giddy expression on his face.
There was a knock on the door followed by the door opening, a pretty man almost as tall as the door stepped in, wearing a golden dangly earring on his left ear. His hair was bleached blond a swirly design shaved into the side of his head. He had a bright smile on his face, a cute scar adorned the left side of his mouth.
"Taka-chan I got the fabric you want-" he cut himself off as his gaze fell on (Name) red immediately dusting is face as he turned to look the other way. His shoulders squaring up as he seemed to shrink into himself. (Name) smiles and waved at him before turning to grab Mitsuya who had his face in his notes trying to see what he wanted to change and keep.
"Hey, Mitsuya. Someone's here to see you." He perked up with a him, his glasses crooked and his hair askew. He nodded with a small smile, stepping out of his office and into his apartments main room. Being met with a short circuiting Hakkai, who had his face hidden from Mitsuya's friend's view.
"Hey Hakkai? You alright man?" Hakkai silently nodded. A shorter girl popped into the apartment a roll of fabric tucked sunder her arm.
"She's too pretty, made him blue screen again." She stated bluntly, gesturing at (Name) who blinked in confusion. He knew people thought he was pretty but to be able to pass as a chick was something else entirely. He and Mitsuya shared a glance before bursting out laughing, surprising Hakkai and Yuzuha.
"He's a guy."
"W-what!?" Hakkai shouted, his face dark red as he had a mini identity crisis. Did he seriously blue screen over a guy? He's a cute guy, but Hakkai hasn't liked a guy like that since highschool. Mitsuya chuckled at his friend and pat him on the back.
"He's pretty cute isn't he?" The silver haired man tested, Hakkai practically went brain dead his face as red as a tomato as he stared at his feet. It's been a long time since someone has made him feel like this.
"Well, Hakkai-kun's pretty cute too, especially when he's all flustered like that." (Name) purred, flopping back on Mitsuya's couch. All that was heard from Hakkai was quiet whining as he hid his face, flustered and humiliated. Yuzuha burst out laughing at her brother's misery, smiling cheekily.
"Why not take him on a date? You seriously need a partner, I can't keep taking care of you." He rubbed his face and glared at his sister and friend.
"You guys are so mean!" He whined, (Name) giggled making Hakkai tense up and glance back at him.
"Alright, stop teasing him so much," Hakkai sighed in relief who knew his problem could be the thing saving him?
"Can't have him having a heart attack before I take him on a date~" (Name) crooned, stepping closer to Hakkai, who was melting at the closeness.
"Oh god- what have I gotten myself into..." Hakkai whispered into his hands, making everyone laugh.
"Well, if you aren't dead by the time Mitsuya's done with me and this dress. I'll be taking you on a date, if you're free." All Hakkai could door was nod, trying to find a way to calm down his burning face.
Months later Hakkai learned that (Name) was actually just as easy to tease as he is, all it took was one compliment before (Name) could even speak to make him blue screen. So despite them going on casual dates frequently, they were both flustered messes the entire god damn time. Mitsuya and Yuzuha couldn't tell if it was adorable or annoying.
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jwirecs · 3 years
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Recommended NCT Angst Drabbles/Scenarios/Series of November 2021💔
Just a small compilations of some of my favorite NCT Angst Drabbles/Scenarios/Series that I have read so far and would absolutely love to recommend to others! (and because like i gotta let my tears out sometimes)
** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **
🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅ completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite
DRABBLES  ↓
Secrets || @writemekpop 💔✅
↳ Being in a long distance relationship is hard, especially when there are other temptations…
Stay || @athenathesharkwrites 💔✅
↳ A48— “If you had asked me to stay, I would’ve.”
Day 12 || @johnsamericano​ 💕💔✅
↳ You met on a rainy night at a hidden bar in a dark alley of Itaewon. Your encounter seemed like a pure coincidence, a kind gesture of the universe. But when you meet for the second time, it feels as if you were meant to be.
Make You Feel My Love || @pinkkyu 💔✅
↳ (a part of the press play series)
The Best Boyfriend Ever || @tinysushimark 💔✅
↳ no summary
SCENARIOS  ↓
Act Like You Love Me || @jenosdaemi 🔞💕💔✅
↳ How could he live knowing that he will not hear his name from you anymore? How is he going to make it without you? Is he ever going to find someone who could love him as much as you did? But among all the questions running in Taeyong’s mind, one stood out the most. Does he love you enough to let you go?
Memories || @jenosdaemi 💕💔✅
↳ A perfect love story and a perfect relationship that many people envied. You and Jaehyun shared a love that is so pure it leaves no space for hate and anger. But read it again, there is no perfect love story, is there? (Alt Ending) (did i let a tear drop? yes, yes i did)
Everything We Can’t Forget || @anashins 🔞💕💔✅💯
↳ When a heartbreaking tragedy strikes your relationship, an icy exterior frosts around your heart and your boyfriend is the main victim of the cold. In times of pain, it’s easier to push people away instead of letting them tear down your walls - until one day, they give up trying. But Jaehyun isn’t one of these people.
A Cherry Tied With The Tongue || @dropsofletters​ 💕💔✅💯💯
↳ there are complicated things that na jaemin will never understand or achieve: math, downing two bottles of beer at the same time, writing a good song and her, the synchronized swimmer in campus that he can’t stand.but he continues with his life as if nothing happened; as if her smile wasn’t the rarest thing in this universe or her words didn’t get to his last nerve, until the verse she had written for her crush ended up being his first hit.jaemin planned to keep it a secret, but apparently, he can’t hide anything from his biggest enemy and now, he’s not sure how he will be able to one, get another hit and two, get along well with his songwriter that did not even agree to be his songwriter on the first place.tying a cherry with his tongue is way easier than getting along well with her.
Beneath The Skin || @chicksung 💔✅💯
↳ Chenle’s only purpose was to blend into society, never to stand out and certainly not to be wrapped up in a mystery, but life has a strange way of bringing people together, even if it pulls others apart.
SERIES  ↓
Nevermind, Let’s Break Up || @ppangjae💕💔🔄💯
↳ Summer flings are summer flings. But not you and Jaehyun. The both of you have a 3-month relationship contract that renews every summer. When summer ends, your contract is terminated until next summer. But what if one summer, Jaehyun comes up to the cottage with a new girlfriend?
Do check out all of the other NCT Angst Drabbles/Scenarios/Series that I have reblogged on my blog as well!!!
** if there’s any fic that you guys could recommend me to read, i would love to get some recommendations! im slowly running out of fics to read. **
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s-talking · 2 years
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 ;;
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what does your muse smell like?  the  wild  poppies.  a  bitter-sweet   &   almond-like  scent. 
what do your muse’s hands feel like? soft   &   elegant  yet  also  very  cold  to  the  touch.  whenever  he  caresses,  the  long  fingers  feel  almost  like  wintry  petals  though  should  he  grab  you  instead,  such  gentleness  can  quickly  turn  into  sharp  ice;     the  black  nails  tearing  into  soft  flesh  with  relative  ease.
what does your muse usually eat in a day? ( main verse )  envy  is  pretty  fond  of  kimchi  soups,  mainly  for  breakfast.  should  the  entity  not  push  him  towards  human  flesh,  expect  the  kitchen  to  smell  like   brewing  veggies   &   seafood  in  the  morning.
does your muse have a good singing voice? envy  doesn’t  sing.  he  only  hums  on  occasion,  but  it’s  a  nice  voice  nonetheless.  a  rather  low,  soft,   &   sultry  tone.
does your muse have any bad habits or nervous ticks? whenever  emotions  happen  to  kick  in   &   envy  harbors  any  ill-intent,  ( mainly  in  regards  to  sadism  or  violence )  his  fingers  will  involuntarily  convulse,  often  going  as  far  as  injuring  own  palms  with  nails  or  leaving  heavy  marks  ‘pon  surfaces  they  just  so  happen  to  be  resting  on.
what does your muse usually look like / wear? ( main verse )  envy  prefers  the  overall  dark   &   obscuring  clothing,  but  also  the  kind  that  won’t  restrict  movement  too  much.  as  such,  he  is  currently  sporting  a  black  turtleneck,  black  jeans,  an  over-sized  black  jacket,  suspenders  ( for  the  weapon, )   &   biker  boots  that  look  like  they’ve  seen  much  better  days. 
is your muse affectionate? how much? how so? affection,  above  all,  is   difficult   to  describe.  having  been  born  with  an  eldritch  curse  that  latches  not  only  to  your  body   &   mind,  but  also  the  soul,  envy  hardly  experiences  any  forms  of  genuine  emotion  unless  it  is  something  truly  brief   &   fleeting,  but,  on  the  flip-side,  that  doesn’t  mean  he  is  completely  blind  to  it  either.  for  example,  min-jun  ──   before  forsaking  his  name  ──  was  once  upon  a  time  a  very  loved  person,   &   such  kind  words   &   gestures,  have  indeed  integrated  themselves  deep  into  his  mind.  so  much  so,  he  can  often  remember  them  with  surgical-sharpness,  ( along  with  the  date,  hour,   place  &  any  other  ridiculous  detail )  because  even  without  stable  feelings,  he  always  places  mental  value  onto  each  &  every  person  met,  especially  their  actions.  now,  should  he  actually   feel   something...   that’s  a  whole  another  story.  after  all,  getting  to  finally  experience  any  form  of  raw  emotion  is  basically  like  settling  a  gas-station  on  fire;     he   will   erupt.   he  will  blow  things  out  of  proportion  &  depending  on  your  relationship  with  him,  such  may  either  sweep  you  completely  off  your  feet....  or  you’ll  be  begging  for  him  stop.  most  particularly  in  matters  of  affection.  you  see,  envy  isn’t  the  type  of  man  to  plead  for  love  so  if  you  somehow  manage  to  survive  his  twisted  ways,  &  better  yet,  become  the  little  apple  of  his  eye,  he  will  chase  after  you  like  no  other  human  ever  will.  this  can  be  most  endearing,  romantic,  even,  but  also  downright  haunting.
what position does your muse sleep in? typically  on  his  back,  with  an  arm  beneath  the  pillow.  that  is  the  way  he’d  sleep  in  new  eden...   until  they’ve  moved  him  to  a  coffin-sized  chamber.
could you hear your muse in the hallway from another room? depends.  envy  is  a  semi-mute   &   terribly  cryptic  by  nature,  more  often  than  not  wishing  to  remain  silent  since  physical  actions  are  preferred,  though,  if  he  does  eventually  speak,  it’s  quite  difficult  to  catch  his  words  in  most  conversations  due  to  being  so  soft-spoken  or  just  outright  mumbling  words  beneath  his  breath.  god  forbid  if  there’s  any  loud  background  noise  while  at  it,  as  you’re  bound  to  lean  closer  or  ask  to  speak  up...  neither  of  which  are  good  for  you. 
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tagging:  @spectralhunter  | @b-erserk | @chronicparagon | @umbralrosa | @v-iciious  &  @b-elmount | @yuichiroswife  &  @chronosbled | @belia-l | @falseamore | @awesomeuchuu | @qucintly | @tigermcth | @carnivorarium  &  @phantasmaw | @dangaer  &  @truethes | @dancinghearts | @shorestar | @lured-into-wonderland | @hellhunted | @whispers-in-daydreams | @yesfxckyxu | @pvremichigan | @hhemeraa | @kemikorosu |  @clarafell | @bymorpheus | @s-erpentes | @fallesto | @xxyumeno | @kllsworn  |  @s-partan​  &  literally  anyone  else  reading  this  because  i  have   no clue   who  else  is  active  lmao 
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uwua3 · 4 years
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if it's ok 😳👉👈 i really love your writing and i've had this idea in my head for awhile but i can't get myself to write it on my own 🤔 i wanted to see how your spin would be on it- so can i request a prompt where reader gets jealous of tenma's co-actress in a romance and tries to mimic what she does to him in a show they're in?? ty!!! 💕💕💕 i look forward to your interpretation
thank you so much for requesting~ ♡ i love you sososo much; i hope this lives up to everything you’ve dreamed of! ♡ ~('▽^人) i LOVE YOU!!! <333
summary: when tenma lands a role in your favorite drama, he had one goal: to become your favorite actor
warnings: envy/jealousy, food mentions, rivalry (all covered briefly!)
author’s note: after learning everything there is to know about the k-drama, true beauty, on tik tok, i’ve decided to write this! for context, the only thing i recommend watching before reading this is watching the “roar” scene!
this is also the first time i’ve introduced made-up characters with names! please enjoy jun, the first character who isn’t canon to the a3!verse :D
word count: 3,768
music: like a movie – b1a4
pretty u!
🌻☀️ sumeragi tenma
what the heck was love, and why did he have to be in it?
sumeragi tenma, future “world’s best actor”, was suddenly... seeing why he hadn’t won that award yet. with a script in his hand and confusion in another, tenma read the title of the next drama he landed the role for
“PRETTY U...” it was japan’s next major love story, advertised on every social media platform possible with the all-star cast in the spotlight already. although it had already been out for a season, tenma was entering as the up-and-coming newest character of the series
tenma was boyish, young, and much too confident for his age—perfect for the role of a second-lead bad boy who was going to steal the heart and test the protagonist’s commitment
except... he didn’t actually want to take up a new project so soon. he only did because—
“what?! you’re going to be chan on PRETTY U?!” he proudly nodded and watched as you began ranting about how much you loved this show. there was only one reason he came to the audition: tenma wanted to star in your favorite television series
you always went on and on about how great everything about PRETTY U was. after hearing so much and pretending not to listen (even if he could practically explain the entire plotline now without watching it), tenma let himself become a fan, too
after all, how could he not be a fan when you loved PRETTY U so much?
tenma didn’t respond to his manager’s pleas until one day, you revealed another reason why PRETTY U was your favorite production: the main lead
“he’s so handsome~ i love him so much!” “do you know him? could you get me his number?” “look at him... he’s the most perfect actor in the business right now—ah, sorry ten!”
tenma scoffed every time, claiming he could most certainly do better than that hotshot. although the boys typically didn’t do the same type of television, he had become tenma’s #1 rival without even knowing it
besides... what did that guy have that tenma didn’t? he was just nice! sure, he held open the door for the lead, bent down to tie her shoes, bended over backwards just to be the perfect boy-next-door. yeah... even he couldn’t pretend anymore
tenma pouted at the thought, skimming over his next pilot episode for rehearsal tomorrow. he was too good to be real, after all, he was meant to end up with the lead girl anyways (spoiler alert!)
but, it didn’t matter how perfect that actor was! because tenma had gotten the role of “chan”, the leather-jacket wearing mystery with an actual heart of gold, and he was going to make the entire audience swoon
(though, tenma just wanted to make your heart skip a beat when he ended up on the big screen)
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tenma would never admit how fast he checked his phone when he felt it buzz in his pocket. sure, it was unprofessional during rehearsal but he knew it was you. however, his smile dropped the moment he read what you sent
you: remember to tell him how much i love him!
tenma: hah... no good luck for your new bad boy?
you: you know i’ll always root for you, ten!
tenma: but, i’m better than that actor, right?
tenma watched his message get delivered and was about to keep bothering you until someone called his name like they were friends. speak of the devil...
that actor’s straight, white toothy smile made tenma stand a little straighter (damn it, tenma was shorter), eyes wide as the actor gracefully introduced himself as his co-star for the next month or so (how did his voice sound even better in person?!)
“good morning, tenma! my name is jun, i’m so honored to meet a fellow actor on set! let’s work together well!” were they... really the same age? tenma barely registered the fact he was suddenly shaking jun’s (right, that’s his name) hand. why did he have such a manly grip?
tenma quickly (to his dismay) found out that him & jun had entered the industry around the same time but often had different projects, so they were never featured in the same production before. apparently, that was creating quite a buzz in the media that two childhood stars were competing against one another
a competition that tenma couldn’t lose. he was going to be your favorite actor, not his rival!
jun, like the perfect gentleman everyone described him to be, showed tenma around the PRETTY U set. jun had nothing but good things to say about the crew and vise versa. that only reinforced how tenma was oddly much more quiet than he usually was. luckily, one of the talents of being an actor was improvising, so jun was doing just fine
when they had reached the dressing rooms, jun shot a bright smile at tenma and gestured to the rather large room
“we’ll be sharing a dressing room together, tenma! we’ll be spending a lot of time together!”
tenma suddenly regretted his decision to become chan of PRETTY U. you couldn’t have had a different favorite show?! anything but... this
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there were now three main characters for PRETTY U: hoshi, yuri, and chan, creating a love triangle for millions of viewers to watch every week
nakamura jun, leading role, played “hoshi”, the boy-next-door. this is the popular boy at school with the best grades and an even greater reputation amongst everyone. next, uedo ren, one of japan’s rising female actresses of this generation. she is adored as “yuri”, the perfect girl. she is the typical nerd who suddenly transformed into the prettiest girl at school from learning make-up
last (but definitely not least!) is sumeragi tenma, playing “chan”, the bad boy. it was nothing like tenma’s done before, since the character was much less expressive than he was used to. chan is a traditional rebel who is revealed to have a soft side for yuri. but, chan (ironically enough) has a secret history with hoshi, causing tension in this already confusing love triangle
(embarrassingly enough, jun had to explain to tenma the complications and ties between each character. tenma, unfortunately, found it to be extremely helpful)
even with this newfound knowledge of the characters in season 2, tenma couldn’t help but absolutely ruin the first day of rehearsals. even with a decade or so of acting as his experience, one thing kept him from being chan: his lack of chemistry with “yuri”
“cut!” the director called out again for the nth time, sighing as their eyes landed on tenma, who was not enjoying being the center of attention this time, surprisingly
“take 5, kid. once you come back, i expect you to actually go through this scene without messing up your lines.” tenma nodded and exited quickly, feeling flustered from the looks of sympathy directed his way. usually, it was one-and-done. it didn’t take a hundred tries just to do another romantic and cliché scene
tenma exhaled loudly once he felt the fresh air upon his face. without the fear of cameras in his face anymore, tenma ran his hand through his hair with a frustrated kick at the concrete. come on! he was renown child actor sumeragi tenma, why was he so in his head now?
tenma was about to yell into the sky before he heard someone close the door, standing beside him with their usual silence. tenma didn’t even have to look to know it was jun (probably with the most pitiful look ever)
“tenma? are you okay?” jun waited as tenma tried to not say anything he’d regret, shifting his weight on his foot back and forth before relenting, shrugging as if it couldn’t be helped
“i don’t know... i just, i can’t see yuri that way. how am i supposed to flirt with someone i don’t even like?”
jun pondered the thought for a moment, before tilting his head, a boyish smile overtaking his features. tenma unwillingly relaxed; jun finally looked his age
“who do you like then?”
tenma froze, a blush even foundation couldn’t hide blossoming on his cheeks. jun let out a teasing “oooh!” as he nudged tenma with his shoulder, who pushed back with an eye-roll
“i-it’s not like that! don’t be so—ugh!” tenma cut himself off, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding jun’s knowing eyes. damn it, they barely knew each other. why was he getting so comfortable with his enemy?!
“well, whoever you thought of, imagine yuri as them.”
“is that what you do?”
jun shrugged, not giving a clear answer for once. before tenma could ask for more information, their break was over
when tenma returned to the scene, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. when he opened them again, he watched as yuri transformed into the one person he’s been trying to impress this entire time: you
when “you” smiled, tenma couldn’t help but follow along. his first-take after break made the cut for the final product
“you must really like them, tenma~” — “stop!!!”
filiming afterwards became easy, especially when he imagined all his romantic words were directed towards you. he could feel the clamminess of his hands, the rapid beat of his heart, the intense blush across his face, all at the thought of you
(the only time he had to start over was when he accidentally said your name instead of yuri’s)
tenma was sure he’d become your favorite actor now! after all, you were his favorite person
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“will you watch the first episode of PRETTY U’s season 2 with me?”
you had never said yes so fast in your entire life. when tenma learned there’d be a cast-viewing of episode 1 after finishing the season, he knew his +1 invite could only go to the biggest fan of the show
throughout filming, you were always the person who got him in trouble when the text tone wasn’t put on silent. you liked spamming tenma with a bunch of supportive and encouraging messages when you were available, meaning tenma always had something to look forward to after each scene
in return, tenma would send a selfie of him with his castmates or the set (or, what he was allowed to show under his contract). yet, despite your constant pleas, there was one co-star he’d never take a photograph with: jun
(“tenma! we’ve worked together for months~ shouldn’t i be called your friend now?” “no—” “huh?! don’t pretend you don’t like me!” “who said i was pretending?” “tenma!”)
at first, tenma was apprehensive about inviting you to an event where jun’s picture-perfect face would be on display everywhere. but, whenever he saw you, the weight of the tickets suddenly felt much heavier in his pocket. he couldn’t deprieve you of such an exclusive event just because of his jealousy (even if he was this close to doing so)
when tenma impulsively asked three days before, it felt worth it when you threw your arms around him (he hugged you back and pretended this meant something to you)
“i love you, ten!”
tenma felt like he was on set again, with yuri’s arms tightly holding onto his heart
“i love you, too.”
even after saying it so many times, tenma meant it even if he didn’t say it to your face every time
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you looked like the star of the show
tenma fixed his tie as his blazer suddenly felt too tight. you appeared in your most formal attire, looking like a million bucks as you two sat across each other in the limo
“ten, look at all of this!” you pointed out every little thing of preparing for a professional event. the little glasses of champagne neither of you two could drink sat to the side as the leather seats molded to fit your posture. as the night lights of tokyo blurred by, tenma couldn’t help but think you sparkled more than this diamond of a city
“i can’t wait to go see the first episode! thank you for inviting me.” you bowed your head, as if suddenly overcome with gratefulness. tenma lightly kicked your shoe with his, fondly rolling his eyes as he tried not to smile (mission failed)
“don’t worry about it, who else would i bring? you’re my favorite pe—friend. friend, yeah...” tenma trailed off, suddenly finding something very interesting outside of the window. you only nodded, seemingly more interested in the fact there was enough room to walk around
when tenma caught sight of the infamous red carpet laid out in front of the theatre, he cleared his throat and put on his best face for the cameras. after stepping out of the car with his bodyguards nearby, tenma turned and gave you a genuine smile. not his typical arrogant smirk the news source ate up, but a type of smile only reserved for you
when he held out his hand, the flashing lights behind him seemed like a real celebrity, something you had never considered him to be before. it was like seeing tenma in a new light (both literally and figuratively)
“shall we?” you took his hand and wondered if you could ever have your own j-drama. perhaps, tenma could even be the main lead...
before you could step off to the side, tenma already had his arm wrapped around your waist with his unchanging expression (however, underneath it all, he was internally freaking out. what was he going to do now?!)
“you’re my date, right? walk the red carpet with me.” tenma winked (you swore it sparkled) as he gestured towards the carpet ahead. suddenly, the line seemed much longer
“t-ten... you’ve never brought a date before...” you mumbled, acutely aware of how soon it was to walk down together. tenma’s arm stiffened, but nothing else exposed the revelation as he looked down at you
“you’re my first, then.” and my last, tenma thought to himself. before you could change your mind, it was showtime. tenma put on his movie star face and introduced you to familiar interviewers, smiling away as if you two weren’t panicking on the inside
while you were focusing on the fact you were going to be going viral as tenma’s first “date” to the event, tenma was trying not to blush from how close you were. you felt... right besides him
tenma was a natural in front of an audience waiting for him to make a mistake. he flawlessly answered every question with swaggering confidence, his stride easy and poses photogenic
you did your best to follow his lead but it all ended when tenma took you into the theatre, staring down at you with a bright smile
“we did it! see, told you we’d be just fine.” tenma let out an exhale of relief, glowing with joy from the adrenaline of everything that came with being a superstar. as you looked up into his excited eyes, you saw him lean down before—
“your arm is still around me.”
silence, then a hurried separation as tenma put too many feet between you two. it was suddenly as if you two were strangers. you regretted the words the moment they left your mouth; you didn’t mind at all... why did you say something?!
“um... so, food?” tenma spoke up after an eternity of making excuses. you two quickly moved to the line of movie snacks, using candy and popcorn to substitue the suddenly awkward silence
when tenma ordered all your favorites without even asking, he turned around with the selection only to close his eyes and internalize every single thing he was feeling because there he was, his worst enemy
jun entered from a side door, most likely finishing up helping the crew with set-up (and 30 minutes early as usual) before catching tenma’s iconic bright orange hair, a grin lighting up his face
“tenma! it’s me, jun!” he said, as if they weren’t the two main leads of japan’s most famous drama so far. immediately, your smile matched jun’s as you watched as your favorite actor of all time make his way towards you two
“jun... of course you’d be here.” tenma said through gritted teeth, forcing a pleasant smile even with an armful of junk
“ah, still keeping the bad boy attitude? we’re off set now, you can stop method acting now.” jun joked, bringing his attention to you with a dazzling smile that would absolutely make any fansite’s career
“oh? who is this, a friend of yours?” tenma tried not to sigh so loud when you couldn’t help yourself and burst into a long rant about how amazing jun was. tenma waited until you reached your midpoint and stopped you with a quick nudge, trying not to scream (could jun stop being so... perfect? could you stop being so cute?!)
when tenma introduced you, he stood a little closer as he tried to maintain his jealousy. “they’re my date, by the way.” no one had asked, but tenma was clearly telling anyone who was around you two had gone together
jun’s eyes lit up in recognition as he let out a noise of surprise. “ah~ so this is who you—”
tenma didn’t regret losing his giant popcorn so fast to a co-star who could only be silenced with food. his wallet could afford another one, anyways. his pride on the other hand? could not let you know his acting secret already
“what was jun going to say?” you asked after you two departed for the viewing room. tenma nonchalantly pretended like everything was okay as he guided you to front row
“probably something about the fact you’re the one who always interrupts our scenes.”
“hey! my texts make your day, don’t lie!”
“go sit down and eat already, jeez.”
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when it began, your eyes couldn’t leave the screen. it was better than you could have imagined. everything was perfect, it exceeded the standards of even the toughest fans out there. you loved every second of it... except...
tenma was too good at being chan. even with his bright hair, the dark clothes he wore made him appear intimidating, with his sharp eyes and even sharper smirk. chan’s appearance was tough, rough, and mean, everything tenma wasn’t
yet, you still couldn’t help but feel your heart sink when chan was clearly in love with yuri. yuri was one of your favorite characters by far, but she ended up bothering you for the entireity of the episode
especially every time she shared a scene (which were many times) with chan. chan was revealed to be a bad boy with a heart of gold, all with a special soft side for yuri
what was this feeling? were you... no, you couldn’t be! after all, you had never seen tenma that way before, right? yet, every time chan made an exception for yuri, you felt sick to your stomach
was it possible that tenma liked the actress who played yuri? you snuck a glance at tenma, only to see he was looking at you already (he’d never admit it, but he was watching your reactions to see if he made you proud. yet, every time you saw him, you subconsciously frowned)
were you not proud of him? did you not like his performance as chan?
before tenma could ask you, the scene changed into one of chan’s. he was standing outside in the school uniform, his head ducked as he swiped through yuri’s social media. before he could look up, yuri jumped in front of him with a teasing smile
“roar!” she called out, referring to their inside joke earlier in the episode. yuri cutely bounced back with another roar, holding her hands up like paws. chan watched, his typical rock-hard expression breaking to reveal his developing feelings for yuri
later on, chan stopped yuri in the hallway, other students watching as the school’s bad boy and goddess interact
“do that again.” chan demanded to which yuri innocently tilted her head, confused like a little puppy. “do what?” “that... that thing.” when chan roared, tenma sunk into his seat with an embarrassed defense and explanation ready. but, when he looked, you finally cracked a laugh at his little roar
your smile only fell when yuri roared again as a joke, but chan smiled for once. tenma wondered why... he thought you would be so happy to be here with him. maybe, he’d never be better than jun...
when the episode ended, it took a moment before you stood up and clapped. tenma followed along, but all he could think about was how he let you down. not only as chan, but as your boy, too
when you two left the room, you two hung back to watch as everyone congratulated one another on the success of the production. in the midst of the cheer and celebration, tenma felt small as he watched your blank expression
what did he do wrong? he put his best efforts into every scene; he might even say it was his best work yet. before he could apologize, you did the unthinkable: you roared
you jumped up into his face, holding your hands up like yuri did. when yuri did it, tenma didn’t feel a thing. but, when you did, tenma felt it. the butterflies fluttered in his stomach as he stared at you, frozen in place
“this is the part where you ask me to do it again.” you shyly trailed off, about to put your hands down before tenma weakly put his hands up, knowing he was about to regret his next move (if the embarrassment didn’t kill him, he didn’t know what would)
“roar!”
that was too loud, wasn’t it? the room suddenly went a lot more quiet as they turned their attention towards a teen actor roaring at his date
“yah! why didn’t you ask me the next line?”
“b-because... i know i like you even without you doing, that, again.”
you paused, taken back by his honesty. as tenma contemplated just falling onto the floor right then and there, you suddenly hardened your expression, standing up straighter with your arms crossed
“do that again.”
“do what?”
“that thing.”
when tenma roared again, much quieter this time, you nodded as you finally smiled genuinely for the first time ever since that episode started
“good, i know how chan feels now. i like you, too.”
“does that mean i’m your favorite actor now?”
(when jun released a video of tenma roaring online, he captioned it with “ROAR = ILY!!!” tenma realized maybe he wasn’t all that bad, but still)
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squirrelwrangler · 3 years
Text
The Fandoms of Princess Findis (8)
Part 8, Part 7, Part 6, Part 5, Part 4, Part Three, Part Two, Part One
The monster of a fic started back in 2017, celebrating my self-indulgent love of creating crossover fusions, in-jokes, and worldbuilding. Princess Findis is an author, and her latest creation is Voltron. (Secret Revealed: Findis started out in Hockey RPF and her first big hit was Rocky)
“Draw our fifth knight,” Findis instructed. “But give him brown hair.”
As Heledir sketched out the lanky body and narrow face, scribbling out the color instructions in a minuscule hand, Findis continued to plot out the final core character dynamics.
“Gold and Iron will be rivals,” Findis stated, and Heledir remembered that her first novels were not tales of hesitant couples courting for the first time but fictionalized accounts of the sports festivals of Valmar, to which Findis never participated as a competitor but had intimate knowledge not only of the training and events but the majority-Vanyar elves and Maiar who would compete every year in the various athletic feats and challenges. Due to her mother’s family, Findis knew more about the Valmar athletic competitions, the wresting and boxing matches, the foot races, the various throwing events, and the team ball games, than anyone that was not a Vanyar or had attempted to win the garlands of victory. Her first stories had been idle amusements because one could only watch cousins perform calisthenics as the Treelight shifted before the monotony destroyed the mind, according to Findis. Also as petty revenge against some peers. Allegedly. She first wrote out the gossip between the interwoven relationships of the various team members of rugby and that stick and ball game, then started to dramatize and create hypothetical pairings and rivalries, only exaggerating the villainy of some competitors slightly. The drugged drink incident was based on an actual scandal. Over time Findis created stock scenarios and characters and branched out into other athletic events, forming a subgenre of fiction. Not that said accounts of underdogs aiming to win boxing and racing events did not also transform into romantic stories, revealing the connection between her juvenile and mature works. Findis’s first breakout hit was that of a slow-witted but softhearted boxer who clumsily but earnestly courted a maiden that served Yavanna and whose final match against the current champion was not to win the bout but to prove his stamina and resolve. Sardo lost the exhibition match but won respect from the arrogant champion and the love of the maiden. Heledir as a young boy re-read that novel incessantly, had memorized the poetic verse and musical retellings, and had begged his mother for a pet turtle so that he could emulate Sardo. Finrod had convinced Heledir to sneak into Princess Findis’s private library on the basis of the secret that she was the original author. Somewhere in Tirion his signed copy of “Sardo Palpondo” languished in storage. 
“Starting back when they were students?” Heledir asked.
Findis nodded. “Gold as the prodigy, unaware of how deeply Iron wants to prove himself superior. Argumentative when in the current timeline until they learn to work together. Blue is unsure of what expertise he can offer the group, as Gold is the valiant skilled fighter and main duelist, impulsive in combat when Blue has the marksmen’s patience. Whereas Gold envies Blue for his connections to the group and his ease in situations outside of combat, his large and loving family and many friends.” 
“Your classic sports rivals.”
“I have not written one in more than a century,” Findis admitted. “It would be nice to return to my roots.”
“I wonder whom the original pair that dynamic was based off of? Is there some loyal duo in Valmar that fights to this day over petty challenges?”
“You and Edrahil,” she muttered low enough to keep Heldir from hearing.
“Hm?”
Findis raised an eyebrow. “There is nothing unique to it. Especially among boys,” she added with a snort. 
Heledir studied the charcoal drawings spread across the floor. “Iron does not seem to fit the Blue pilot. His name should be swapped with Tin. The malleability and rigidity of stone and water aligns better, especially if one accounts for pewter.” 
“I agree,” Findis said. “Blue is a natural second-in-command instead of a leader, once he matures, but his style of leadership aligns him with Arno Silver-arm, and his growth into a support and balance for Gold will be mirrored in how Silver-arm leads the warriors on behalf of their princess.” 
As Heledir crossed on the name on the paper marked with the piece of yellow seal wax, Findis elaborated on one of her bullet points. “He’s our chef. Sir Iron with the yellow lion ship. As part of his nurturing personality and to give him an interest outside of combat. Blacksmith and chef.”
“Is he a good chef?”
“Yes. But since they are traveling to new locations constantly, he must confront unfamiliar foodstuffs and learn to make edible meals.”
Heledir added the culinary notes. “Another good thread to run through the story. Each new meal will have a more outlandish name and appearance, yet still be appetizing. Thus the readers’ anticipation: will Sir Iron ever be defeated by a new plant or meat?”
“Was the fried silkworm pupae a practical joke that the Sindar played on you, or did they really eat that in Doriath?”
When Heledir looked up at Findis as she asked the question, the princess was cupping her chin in her hand, the corner of her smile curling into her fingers like a shy child hiding behind a curtain. The uppermost golden bracelet around her arm sparkled, and he felt an almost magpie-like urge to snatch it to inspect the design around the band and read the words engraved on the inside. It looked like a gift. Heledir wondered from whom. 
“It was delicious. Crispy, with this spicy sauce or a bit of salt. They made something similar in Brithomber using tiny clams; Círdan snacked on them during meetings.” Heledir sighed. “No, the disgusting thing was the mortals and their mushrooms. Oh, and raw milk.” 
Findis’s shudder in response was satisfyingly expressive. 
“What other characters must we devise for this preliminary round?”
Heledir stretched his arms and reclined back, resting his elbows atop the folded carpet. The left elbow hit the concealed belt-knife, and Heledir grappled with the realization that he was almost comfortable in a room without a weapon. Carrying a sword and dagger had been second nature to the former commander of Nargothrond’s army. Strange to be in a city once more where few wore sword belts, yet Heledir read their imprint in the lopsided gait of fellow pedestrians. Scratching his side -and inadvertently staining his linen undershirt with the black charcoal from his fingers- he mused. “The princess’s loyal retainer, the steward of the castle. Older man, comedic. Give him facial hair; there are plenty of mortal designs I could draw from, variations on mustaches. And more villains - monsters for the flying lions to fight against. Giant beasts like dragons and the great wolf. Uzuneth creates a new one each time that one is defeated, more terrible than the last, for steady plot progression.”
“Should there be other survivors with the princess in the castle? Or does she wake from her centuries of slumber to the tragedy of only the two survivors?”
Slumping further back, now Heledir was prone on his back on the floor, his head supported by the carpet, staring up at the ceiling of the bookroom. The plasterwork molding applied a latticework of vines and geometric shapes across the surface, reminding him of the stone reliefs that decorated the surface of every tunnel in Nargothrond. “Add a nursemaid, perhaps. She might be superfluous with the mustached steward. And some cute animals. Not a pet, just something that also got trapped in the castle when the enchantment fell upon them to hide the castle away. Princess Elanor adopts it. Mice? Yes, make four of them. A little team. And the witch has a cat.”
“Some of her people survive, captured as thralls by the dark kingdom. A late reveal, and a way to add another female character to the cast for balance, when she is rescued. Princess Elanoratya.”
Heledir groaned. “Princess Pirnë, at least. Please avoid the numbers.”
“Pirnë, fine. She can form a secondary couple with one of the other knights.” 
Findis sighed. “I worry about the simplicity of motivation to support the characters and plot. Can the lion pilots return to their home island before defeating Gabiltur? Copper-wencë and Gold have the hunts for their families, Arno is a veteran soldier and leader and has the history of his imprisonment as well as his sense of duty, but for Iron and Tin, the desire to return to their families must be dealt with unless we explain away why the ships cannot go back to their home island. They have no Ban. Eventually the story must, for it will no longer be hidden from the dark kingdom once the story proper begins, and the core tenet is that only the lion-ships are powerful enough to fight back against Gabiltur’s forces.” Findis tapped her fingers against her cheek. “Iron initially will be most reluctant to pledge to Princess Elanor, the most afraid of fighting and most eager to return to his family, but one of the first star islands that they liberate will be home to starving thralls -not Pirnë’s people!- to whom Iron shall bond with. Earth. A dwarf-like people. Maybe stone-men, actual stones. Iron’s kind heart will lead him to courage. That leaves Tin-blue. He can bond with Princess Elanor’s servants, initially in his amorously-motivated attempts to learn about her people. Good to have the two clowns play off another. Then, hmm, an attack on the castle. Tin-blue notices a sign of the infiltrators but disregards his suspicions because he is so homesick.” Findis began to write, her pen racing after her spoken narration in a vain pursuit. “He turns back just in time to rescue a near fatal blow on Elatan-Mustache and is injured in the process. Sir Gold will fight off the lead attacker - ah, the lieutenant of Gabiltar with a replacement metal arm- to save Bl..no, wait, Arno fights him first but then they are both captured, defeated by his own traumatic memories resurfacing, the rematch later after this bout of weakness. No, the lieutenant is always Gold’s final enemy because that’s the true parallel, as Arno’s opposite is Gabiltur the Dark King himself. Blue pulls himself out of unconsciousness to fire an arbalest bolt -no, just a stone, too concussed for more and too unrealistic for prisoners to grab a weapon- just in time to distract the enemy and save Gold as he duels Mace-armed Lieutenant. ‘We make a good team.’ Yes. And, wait, not the steward. Old Nursemaid, not Elatan-Mustache. She’s the one that gets injured as well in the attack, enough so that she spends most of the series convalescing. This alleviates the character role redundancy. But Tin-blue’s guilt towards her shall help to drive him forward and thus in battle he shall always be watching for surprise attacks and trying to cover his companions’ backs, to atone for his perceived failure.”
“Mention his mortal grandmother. They tended to live longer than the men, and most mortal families that I knew were ruled over by these matriarchs,” Heledir added. “That the chieftain could be overruled by a tottering old woman with no teeth and more wrinkles than a dried plum was an old joke among all three Edain tribes, and when a saying is that universal you know that it is no longer a joke. Tin-blue has a grandmother, several aunts and uncles, and a large number of cousins. Large for a moral. Did you know there were families with more than ten children? More than once I was introduced to an Edain woman who had given birth to fourteen, though most aimed for a more modest number.”
Findis wheezed. “By the stars!”
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2-dsimp · 3 years
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Hello! 🐐 anon reporting to duty! I just saw Salt and 🎃 ideas, and both are quite interesting.
I first want to address 🎃's one! Yeah, I noticed too, and I might be a little too bold at this but our lovely host also writes for "Obey me!" A game where you try to date the seven lords of the underworld + other worldly beings and a sussy human (looking at you Solomon!).
The reason as to why I mention this, is because the main datable are the avatars of the seven deadly sins, which each one happens to be coded with a specific type of color that usually represents him. I'll take Leviathan for example; his hair is purple, but his trademark color is orange and his sin is Envy. If I recall correctly (because my memory is shit and I'm on my phone while writing this) that happens to be the color for the dependant type, which strikes my curiosity as Leviathan usually appears as someone very dependant of the MC, always counting on them to vouch for him and spend time with him, craving their attention. A lot of his decision depend on what the MC do or says, only when overtaken by his sin is when he will make his desires true. Another example is Satan, the sin of Wrath. At first sight, you will think that he is Pride, as he doesn't give the vibe of someone who is the living representation of anger and hostility, well presented and versed... very intelligent too, as he is really good with magic and curses. Using the example you gave about Venti, Xiao and Bennett, all of them are the type of person that at first won't strike you as your initial thoughts of them, luring you in then snatching you the moment you lower your guard around them. You are the only one who truly comprehends him and accept him.
In short, I might be terribly wrong, but maybe the colors might be tied to the seven sins and their derivations.
And for Salt's take, I agree with you. Lying to Scaramouche doesn't seem correct to me, but neither I worry that much about other characters present; is Scara who we are talking about! Either people walk out of his way, or he makes sure there is no one who might trample with his alone time with senpai. There is also the fact that he is quite level headed at the time (At least in yandere standards) and I don't think we can get away with lying to him when his sole focus is on us, even more when all of his meters are low and his cognitive process isn't compromised.
If we speak the truth (which please, bring me into what we are doing lmao. I only know that we drank Diluc's sussy cocktail (hehe) and we lost our phone... somehow) the characters involved so far aren't ones that Scaramouche has serious beef with, and even if he is the Monopoly/Possessive type, he isn't delusional.
I mean, look at the scenario: He just won against one of the person that truly acts as a thorn to his side, is alone with senpai too... He is everything but a noble man. He will take advantage of this situation and try to instigate something from us, which leads me to the next point: he almost doesn't care about out answer. He truly wants to know our reason, but we currently are in a position that usually isn't really comfortable (alone with someone with quite the unique reputation), anyone with common sense will be intimidated and prone to commit a mistake, especially after the comment that Childe made? I'd be on my nerves for sure, doubting myself and saying something that might be more harmful than the truth.
Another idea, is that maybe he is scouting us about the Club thing. If we don't belong to any group but are in the lookout of one, that simply won't do in his book. He will lose control over us like that, even the position of a student council can take him so far before he is pushing it too much without pulling some string. So, the most obvious reason, is roping us into the student council. He will put in a good word for us or just straight up accept us. That way, he has the perfect excuse to control us and take us whenever he feels like it; talking with someone? Oh, so sorry but we have some serious business going on and we have to go. Now. That literally applies for every situation, even with professors.
Well, that's my take for now. Even if I spoke positively about being honest with Scaramouche, I want to wait for the other anon and players to voice their ideas!
(I feel like that meme of the guy with a delirious look on his eyes and a hand on a board, trying to connect the dots)
Also! I would like to ask if us as players have our own bar too, it's just that we haven't sustained any blow yet and thus haven't show up until it is too late. Do we also have a sanity bar alongside a health one? Is to have it into account for future decisions, as it might play a role in our rolls (Ex.: having to out run someone but the check is 20 points of health and he have 15, thus we won't make it that far). Oh! And does the trait of the characters influence in their abilities? Like Childe, being in the karate club, has a bigger stamina so his check In trying to out run him will be higher!
(Stupid recommendation, but Dottore as the sussy nurse lmao)
Oooh 🐐 back at it again with G.O.A.T theories (my best attempt at a pun…imma just go now—)
But as for your questions
1. Yes , you do have a health-bar that is currently at 100% if it gets below 75% then your ability to execute certain decisions will be partially limited. Anything below 50% and you’ll become dependent on whoever finds your weakened form first.
2. You do have a Sanity meter however due to Senpai’s specialty trait you are resistant to most trauma inducing events that may happen at any given time frame
Also that’s not a bad suggestion in fact you may see Dottore lurking around somewhere down the line…
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