#forgive me cloud muns that read this

[reigning-rhapsody]

Bittersweet

Strifesodos, past Gengeal; 2841 words

No TWs

The ear piercing noises of pots and pans and what sounded like now unusable plates briefly silenced the patrons crowding Seventh Heaven and let about everyone in the bar flinch in unison- all but one. Cloud merely quirked up a brow as his head shot towards the kitchen where the newest member of the staff, though it had been months since he’d joined and kept some work away from the ever so eager-to-work Tifa, had been on duty to cook for the evening.

I am, by no means, a great cook, he’d warned them at first, which turned out to be more than true, but his tastebuds didn’t lie, nor did his memory. He could tell what needed more salt and what had to stay cooking on the stove just a bit more until it was at its best, and he knew quite a few recipes for someone that, apparently, was no good as a chef. He wants to evade working any more than just as a bartender, Cloud assumed at first exactly because of that, but as good as the man was when it came to acting, as he had proven quite a few times, what he told was no lie.

Tifa insisted he should try cooking, and Gaia, it was worse than Marlene’s mud-pies from when she was younger. According to Barret, at least, who entered the establishment with a growling belly longing for a meal right as their chef in the making had finished his… attempt. A burnt pot and sore stomachs were the victims in the aftermath of Genesis Rhapsodos’ cooking despite everyone who passed him in the process paying attention to him wearing the glasses he was supposed to have sitting on his nose.

If one wanted to trust the promises given by Tifa, who insisted that teaching her new co-worker how to make some proper dishes was essential, he was a fast learner, and occasionally he even suggested to make a few meals he had memorized. No one knew as to why it was that he had recipes in mind, but no one bothered to ask either. One thing was clear though, the guy sure liked apples.

“Cloud, can you check on him?”, Tifa’s voice rung behind the blond addressed by it, barely able to be heard as the chatter and laughter picked up among the patrons again. She was busy, carrying two trays with food and drinks and a plate on one of her outstretched arms on top of it, so it was understandable she didn’t even wait for an answer and moved to the table that awaited their order. His next delivery would be in about twenty minutes and as slow as he could make himself walk, to evade whatever mess just occurred behind that door a few feet ahead of him would was impossible. Better get it over with quickly.

With a sigh, Cloud turned fully to face the direction of the kitchen and closed the gap that separated him from the door with a few swift steps slipping past filled tables. The blond swung the door open while his unoccupied hand rested in the pocket of his baggy pants. “Hey, the hell-?” He started, cutting himself off as his Mako infused gaze fell upon a kneeling Genesis staring at the floor like he was about to propose to it. Or rather, to the soup on the ground surrounding an upside down pot, porcelain pieces of what once upon a time were bowls circling the romanticized mess like ivory rose petals.

Genesis didn’t look up, nor did he answer, nor did he acknowledge Cloud and pretended the delivery boy wasn’t even present. He picked up the shattered vessels meant for the customers to eat what he begrudgingly prepared out of, seemingly doing his utmost to keep his eyes averted, or fully hidden to begin with.

Cloud narrowed his eyes and stepped forward so the door could fall shut behind him, swaying in and out of the room a few more times and allowing whatever curious mind sat in the much busier space of Seventh Heaven to catch a last glimpse of the scene playing out in the no-customer space, although who was sunken on the ground being covered by Cloud standing in front of him. He approached Genesis, both hands now in the confided space of his roomy pockets as he simply stared down at who he usually had to crane his head back for to make eye contact. Seeing someone who held himself so highly on the floor picking up shards with his own hands, it was amusing in a slightly sadistic way to say the least.

He knew that speaking up would only end in a discussion, then an argument and then a passive aggressive verbal fight that could break out into something physical at any given second. At least it sounded like that, anyway, but if it was the truth stood in the stars since the pair usually got interrupted when they got into another of their near daily banters. So he kept quiet and stayed put until the slender ginger would say the first word. And so he eventually did, pausing his task to exhale a defeated sigh and with what was left of his pride for the day.

And yet, he didn’t look up. “Not. A word.”, Genesis punctuated with a clearly irritated voice and Cloud just replied with an entertained huff. “Need help?”

“No.” “Uh-huh.” He didn’t have the time to put up with the mage’s stubbornness and crouched down, reaching out to grab the pot whilst his eyes remained on the culprit of the ruined meal. Finally eye-to-eye, Cloud noticed the missing black frame supposed to reach behind Genesis’ ears, “So, let me guess…”, the younger man started, turning the pot around and holding it by the handles, “You knocked this all over because you’re not wearing the glasses?”

That earned him a venomous glare, but an exposed one. Unlike Genesis’, his own vision was just fine, and thus not spotting the black supposed to be added to the color scheme around his face wasn’t just an illusion. “I don’t need them,”, the redhead barked back, “As I’ve told you before. You all are being dramatic over nothing at all.”

Hearing him out of all people judging what crosses the line of being too dramatic made Cloud snort and shake his head at how ridiculous that was, much to the wannabe-cook’s further annoyance. They locked eyes, three triplets and one glassy, milky-white outcast cataract.

The cracks scarring the porcelain skin roped themselves from his left eye over the same side of his cheek, shimmering through the applied makeup that attempted to hide them in vain as it had been vanishing with the sweat glistening on the man’s face from standing in a hot kitchen for hours on. Like veins dotted with thorns, they reached down his neck, reaching over the visible parts of his equally pale chest that was exposed due to the button up Genesis wore being partially undone. He could only guess how much of his body they tainted. They are what caused that vision problems too, as he’d been told by Genesis.

“I know I’m just mesmerizing, but make yourself useful if you refuse to let me handle this on my own.” An arrogant voice pierced Cloud’s zoned out thoughts and he blinked himself back into reality, not having the best experiences with anything piercing him. If it wouldn’t have been a vocal trigger that brought him back though, it would’ve been the smell of something burning.

“Agh- shit!” Genesis cursed under his breath and got on his feet again, groaning at his aching legs that fell asleep staying in the same uncomfortable position for some time. Cloud followed and watched the man place down the pieces of the bowls he’d already picked up next to the stove where a pancake was smelling like the victims of his flames- although it wasn’t on purpose for once.

Another swear muttered as he turned off the heat, or at least what Cloud assumed to be one since it was spoken in the ginger’s native language, and grabbed a spatula that rested on the workspace to his right to try and scratch the pitch blackness off the bottom of the pan. After some hard work was put into saving what could be saved, or what he hoped to save at least, that being the pan, Genesis put the inedible dessert on a nearby plate flipped over.

Both pairs of eyes in the room stared at it in silence, Cloud approaching with caution like what was sitting there was a Behemoth about to jump up and eat both of them whole whilst minding the puddle of broth, veggies and meat on the floor. He then stood next to the creator of the ‘food’ and stared it down. Roasted darker than his outfit, the smell was absolutely unappetizing and nothing looked appealing about it at all. It even took he blond a bit to figure out that there were apple slices mixed into the darkness, swallowed by it like stars during a cloudy night sky.

“Well… not that it was satisfactory, anyway.” Genesis admitted in defeat, much to Cloud’s surprise, although his ego must have been knocked down a few from their earlier confrontation. He might even go as far and claim he saw the slightest, embarrassed blush tinting the ex-SOLDIER’s pale cheeks, though mentioning it would only result in more than just a pancake ending up scorched.

“How the hell did you survive this long?”, Cloud asked with a wrinkled nose.”

“Thank you for your, as always, comforting words.”

“And what do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. It’s-”, Genesis took a deep breath, tightening his ponytail by dividing it into two strings in his hands and pulling, “There was never a need for me to learn how to cook. As a child, we had someone that cooked for us, and when I went to Midgar I first lived off of cafeteria food.. which I, eventually, resented and blatantly refused to eat. Then it was takeout, mostly, and once we became firsts we got an apartment together, so I had Angeal cooking for me.”

The drop of his name briefly silenced Genesis who still had his leer cast upon the failed attempt of a pancake. His lips thinned and he swallowed dryly, hands placed flat on the surface of the workspace. He exhaled a breath through his nose and his shoulders twitched weakly in a half-chuckle. “‘You’ll stay out of the kitchen when I’m cooking. You’re banned from the stove, Gen.’”, Genesis mocked a deeper voice to the best of his abilities, a bittersweet smile curling on his lips, “Sugar sweet, no? I never needed to learn how to make anything for myself. It was a thing I had done for me, and people never minded, either.”

“Not that that would have gotten me to start learning.” He added after another few seconds filled with nothing but the mechanical whirring of the fridge a few feet away from them. “Angeal, he uh… He loved cooking, but baking even more. The pie he made was to kill for, and whenever he made it, I would sit there and watch. Talk to him, sometimes even help. Providing he let me, that is.”

Finally, he looked up again and turned his head to look at the other swordsman. “No matter what I will make, it won’t live up to what he did.”, his head then hung low once more, “Nor would it satisfy him.” The normally so confident and boasting voice, teasing and preaching highly poetic metaphors nobody but him understood, grew lower in volume, quieter with every word vocalized and brought to live by it, although it sounded dead, unenthusiastic. It wasn’t a voice that fit Genesis.

“Or me.” His hands visibly gripped the edges of the big table harder, like he was trying to ground himself so he wouldn’t fall into a void that existed to eat him up from the inside, fill him with the worst of what life had to offer. His eyes fell shut, knuckles turning white and his fingers shook ever so slightly until he straightened his posture to one that equaled that of a candle and let out a shaky breath between agape lips, mismatching eyes fluttering open again. “I should clean this up now. Don’t you have a delivery to fulfill, hm?” Genesis ushered, his intent to get Cloud out and not show any more weakness than what just occurred beyond noticeable. It went under his skin, let the hair on the back of his neck rise and spread goosebumps across his arms.

It was… so damn depressing to witness.

“Ah. Ah- yeah, right.” Cloud reminded himself and reaches for the PHS in his pocket, flipping it open to check the time. He had a few more minutes. Watching Genesis move to a cabinet where a few kitchen towels were stored from the corner of his eye, the blond warrior pocketed his phone again, ran a hand through his artfully spiked hair, took a deep breath that let his chest puff out, counted his blessings and took off a glove with his teeth to grab the round little mistake sprawled out on the plate. Leather glove dropped in his lowered hand once it returned from brushing back the sunny mess on his head, he made sure the golden-brown side was the one facing the floor and placed it against his lips. He swallowed, opened his mouth and took a generous bite.

The first few times of chewing were experimental, eyebrows knitted together and eyes nearly pinched shut, though he discovered that keeping the part which wasn’t tainted by the lord of the Underworld and all evil himself judging by the pitch blackness trademarking it did make it a lot more bearable. Whenever some of the burnt bit brushed over his tongue he just gave it his best to swallow that piece, his tastebuds welcoming the sweet flavor of the apples dancing over it whenever he was lucky to have some in his mouth the more bites he took.

Two down, about two or another three to go. It wouldn’t be a chore to eat it if it weren’t for the burnt side, he had to admit, so Tifa wasn’t lying when she said he improved and was indeed a fast learner.

“You’re insane, Strife.”

Cloud nearly choked on the load of pancake occupying his mouth the moment Genesis caught him forcing down the food. He cleared his throat and properly swallowed what was left on his tongue. He ‘tch’ed, glaring at the dessert like it was his worst enemy. “I didn’t eat anything yet today’s all. Don’t want Tifa to get on my ass for not eating again.” “And how would she know?” “She… just does- you should be glad I’m making what she’ll say to you less worse.” The sunny haired man silenced himself by ripping another huge piece out off the pancake, so much it only left one last bite instead of a possible three. Although his angles eyebrows raised into a less hostile expression when he saw the slightest bit of a smile growing on the auburnet’s plush cherry lips. He stopped chewing for just a moment, taking in- no, admiring what he did by refusing to let someone sulk and keep self loathing. “Get out, or I’ll tell Tifa all of what just occurred was your and only your fault.”

Cloud playfully rolled his eyes, though did as told and moved towards the door, no intentions of a further exchange made- not on his side, at least. “Oh, also-”, he was stopped by Genesis speaking up once more, coming to an abrupt halt and half turning around, “You should pay me a visit when I am on cooking duty again sometime, maybe I have more blissfully tasting food for you to devour.”

Cloud snorted, “No promises.”

“Don’t you speak to me with a full mouth, learn some manners.”, Genesis retorted with a playful hum before truly dismissing the other with a flamboyant wave of the hand that didn’t hold a soup-soaked towel.

This time truly exiting, Cloud pushed the last small bite of the pancake into his mouth and chewed with stuffed cheeks, hands returning to his pockets as he eyed the bar counter where the delivery was stored. Forcing down the rest of the half-bitter-half-sweet mistake, he glanced over his shoulder one last time to see Tifa hurriedly moving into the kitchen. He exhaled in amusement at the distant chatter coming from behind the door swaying door before it fell shut completely and blocked out the conversation though. Cloud moved behind the bar to crouch down and grab the package that needed to be driven to Junon and set on his way out of the warm and cozy confinement to let the cold air hit him full on.

Genesis sounded more like himself again, he noted.

[headcanontheshitoutofsoulsborne]

Sekiro Chain 1

Original prompt: Kuro teaches Wolf how to play Shogi. Mun's note: I love how this chain turned out. Everyone did such an amazing job. Please show your apprecation for the characters by checking out their work and consider giving this chain a reblog.

@ghoulsteak

In Kuro’s tower, the summer air is warm and still. The sliding doors stand open to let what breeze there is pass through unimpeded. Sun streams in through the western door, painting a bright square across the tatami. Motes of dust spiral in the light.

Kuro can see Wolf from where he sits reading, a dim figure with only a foot caught in the sun, seated with his back to the opposite wall. It’s easy to forget he’s there, both because Wolf has been present in the corner of Kuro’s eye for a long time now and because being forgettable is a trait the shinobi has carefully cultivated.

He stands now and pads silently across the floor. Time for another inspection, Kuro supposes; another circuit around the tower’s perimeter (cliff side included), another quiet pass among the sun-streaked piles of books in the upper room. Wolf is always conscientious in his checking and rechecking, but today he seems to be wound even tighter than usual. On a day as beautiful as this one, that strikes Kuro as something of a shame.

As Wolf steps back inside from his patrol, Kuro sets down his book. “Wolf,” he calls. The shinobi’s head turns. “Would you like to play shogi with me?”

“I do not know how, my lord.”

“That’s no matter. I can teach you,” Kuro says.

Kuro himself learned from Owl. The old man taught him the game years ago while he lingered at the castle. He kept to himself whether was simply resting between outings or sniffing around amongst the servants and courtiers. Kuro has beaten him only once, and he suspects that the old man threw that game. He is as difficult for Kuro to read as his son is easy.

But still, he offers Wolf the same reason for learning as the Owl gave him. “They say shogi is good for the mind. It helps one practice strategy.” He knows Wolf struggles to justify doing things that don’t reap tangible results. The shinobi’s chief leisure activity, insofar as he can be said to have one, is sleeping. Wolf inclines his head in agreement.

Wolf seats himself across the table, and Kuro begins setting up the board. He explains the rules of the game to him; they’re a lot to take in, but he knows Wolf prides himself on only having to be told something once, and thus does not repeat himself. He listens in silence, nodding from time to time or interjecting with a murmured question, and they begin to play.

A minute and a half passes. Wolf loses.

“Hrm,” he says, brow furrowed. Kuro hides a smile with his sleeve.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to take it easy on you, Wolf,” he says.

A slight shake of the head. “Of course.”

“Again?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

Kuro offers him no advice. He doesn’t want to teach Wolf to play like him; even after three years’ worth of rainy days spent at the board, he suspects his own style is still too much like the Owl’s. He wants to see how Wolf plays shogi.

As they begin again, he watches the shinobi’s expression. Between turns, his gaze darts about the room, quicksilver eyes beneath a stone brow. His attention is divided a dozen different ways. This, rather than his inexperience, is why Kuro beats him again.

“Again?”

“Certainly.”

Perhaps, Kuro thinks, he should ask him to play next in a room with shuttered windows and a single, easily barred door. He can see the roots of Wolf’s technique, the shape of his quick, guarded mind beginning to describe itself upon the board, but he won’t let himself become immersed in the game. Wolf can’t let go of his awareness of the tower’s points of entry and escape, of the distance between the palm of his hand and the hilt of his sword.

Kuro begins to push Wolf’s slow offense back, intending to corner him on his own side of the board. Confident in his advance, he overreaches. Wolf capitalises on the chink revealed in his armour and cuts behind Kuro’s lines. As he finishes his move, he glances up at Kuro.

“Hah!” Kuro sits back in surprise, eyes alight. A hint of a smile runs along the furrows of Wolf’s face, and is gone just as quickly.

“I apologise, Wolf,” he says. “I underestimated you.”

Wolf inclines his head. “It is no matter.”

As the game continues to its close and the game after it begins, Kuro watches Wolf’s hold on his vigilance relax a little more. Perhaps there’s something comforting to him after all about a battle with no stakes, an enemy who wants nothing more than to pass a summer afternoon.

@dragonbasket

@fateoftheundead

“Are you ready, Wolf?”

Sekiro nodded and knelt before the low table across from the young lord, who busied himself shuffling a stack of papers. Kuro’s movements were not that of a studious priest, or a graceful shinobi, but guileless and clumsy like the youth he was.

“Why is this necessary for my mission?”

“Your sentiments are pure and honorable, but the pursuit of knowledge and understanding is just as pure, just as honorable.”

“As you insist. I do not know exactly what it is I do not know.”

***

The Wolf turned his head back and forth, flustered as he had ever been and rarely showed. “As I told the Heir, I do not know what it is I do not know. I… have heard that that is a good place to start. To start knowing.” A snort emerged from the background, amidst the wooden idols.

Emma, the mild doctor, approached, frowning in the direction of the snort. “That is true. Do not be so hard on yourself.” She took a seat. “Please continue.”

Sekiro handed the stack of Kuro’s scrolls to the man seated on the ground, who blinked with wide open eyes at the documents. Fujioka gave the smile of a man retreating from a tiger. “So whaddya need me for, anyway?”

“My letters are insufficient. You are the right choice, despite your grumbling.”

“Fine, fine, some compliment.” Spreading the papers out, he bent his head to the scroll he had selected. “So… I have heard it said, oh monks, that… hmm, I dunno that’s the best way to begin. You’ve got far more wisdom than you know, Wolf, but these doctrineses may be too big a breakfast. Tell me- what scriptures did you learn as a child?”

Sekiro sighed. “I remember very little from before I was orphaned, and once the Owl had adopted me I had very little time for scriptures or doctrines.”

Another scoffing laugh came, and this time it’s owner came closer. The Sculptor rose creakily and made his way over as well, though much less gracefully than the doctor.

“Ahh, these old bones need a stretch anyway. The Owl? Ukonzaemon Usui? One slip of the pen and he would have been a cloud-and-water man. Bah, you’re more a cloud-and-water man than the old fool ever could have been.” He bowed deeply to Fujioka, his wooden left arm almost scraping the floor. “Forgive me, scroll jumbler. Forgive me, Wolf. Please continue.”

“I suppose that I know as much as anyone. Gate gate pāragate pārasaṃgate bodhi svāhā?”

Seeing the lost look on his face, the others in the room repeated the simple sutra. “You all know it. I’m gald I knew it as well. Perhaps this is not the correct interpretation, but it has always struck me... gone, gone, everyone gone... What does it mean to be shinobi? If we become one with the shadows, then do we exist at all?”

Fujioka beamed. “Oh, that’s wisdom alright, Wolf! As direct as the 6th Patriarch’s famous verse, and maybe as good.” He looked around sheepishly. “What? I know stuff.”

“Do you know who else had something to say about the Heart of Wisdom?” The Sculptor’s grimace was unreadable. Emma turned to him, but cut him only with the gaze of her eyes. “Master Hakuin! Do you know what he said about our beautiful Heart? Scripture scrolls dug from piles of garbage!”

“Garbage?” Emma’s face at last betrayed a hint of anger.

“Easy, sweet doctor. I mean no offense. We may pare our nails at the foot of a burning lamp, we may polish a brick into a mirror, but these base things are not bad. Simply a glimpse of truth. These,” he said, flinging a gnarled finger past the Heir’s donated stack of scrolls. “are wonderful in their own way, but for a man of my inclinations, I prefer the schematics our Wolf brings back. To build wondrous things!”

“Not from piles of garbage.” Sekiro’s face grew dark as he thought back to where he had found many such scrolls and the like that he’d found, in pockets and pouches, in dark corners used as hiding places, and he thought of the secrets he’d found as well, the deep crimson secrets that lay at the heart of men. And monsters.

“Of course, Wolf. Now, of all the treasures you bring back to our little ryokan... I prefer the sake best.”

“Sake!” Fujioka theatrically covered his face, mimicking the voice of a mortified grandmother. “In the midst of our scripture study! Would that not violate the Fifth Precept?”

“Indeed, indeed, sir, but there is one sin that the Tathagatha held more grave than any violation of the precepts.”

“What is this sin, Sculptor?” Emma’s face had lost all anger and she seemed genuinely curious.

“The disruption of the Sangha! Chaos amongst friends and disciples! Vituperation!” He grinned. “I am an old man. I get cranky when I do not get my sake. And when I get cranky...”

“The next time I find any sake, I will bring it right back. For the Sangha, that is.”

“Make sure you do. My friends, is anyone else cold? Without a little something to warm my belly, I feel every draft.” Without waiting for a response he walked over to the hearth where a few embers struggled to produce rarefied strands of flame. “We’re out of firewood.”

The others ignored him and Fujioka produced another scroll from the pile. “The Hekiganroku... some of these things the Heir sent us are quite advanced. Don’t get me wrong, I find a quality koan to be pleasing on its own merits, but the solution of these... beyond me.” The information broker squinted down at another scroll. “Oooh, ooh. The Heir left a little note in the margin. ‘Master Dogen’s commentary is superb.’ Aha! Dogen.” Fujioka became suddenly excited and turned his squint towards Emma. “Waittaminute...”

“I was indeed apprenticed to Dogen.” A faint smile. “Not the original Dogen. He was centuries ago. How old do you think I am?”

Before the broker could reply, Sekiro piped up. “Doctor, you don’t look a day over 200.” She rewarded him with a widening smile at the quip. She rubbed her hands together.

“It is cold. My Master Dogen would sometimes pretend to be a Zen master and jump out of corners to frighten me. He made a crude kesa out of bandages and covered his hair with a sack to seem bald.” She paused in thought. “I am not sure why.”

“Students must sometimes go along with their master’s teaching, I am sure.” Sekiro nodded.

Fujioka continued. “No offense, Wolf, but I got something here from the Hekiganroku that reminded me of you, and our dear ol’ sculptor. Case 54...” He recited the koan and put the scroll down.

“Yunmen Extends His Hands. I see. But I have only one hand.”

“Between the two of us we have two, Wolf,” called the Sculptor from the background, still puttering noisily among the idols. “Yunmen would slap us well if that were the case.”

Sekiro stood momentarily from where he’d crouched across from Fujioka and stretched his back before sitting again. “I recall some dharma if you forgive my rough understanding.”

“Of course!” The broker smiled in anticipation despite himself.

“Yunmen’s koan reminded me of another great master fond of hitting his disciples. Rinzai! What a fearsome teacher. There are tales that I have heard of his striking pupils to teach a lesson, but his most impressive act was worthy of a shinobi. In the meditation hall, during the most serene meditation, he would appear out of nowhere beside any monks whose minds were wandering, and beat them with a stick!”

“That stick is called the kyosaku and the monks must raise their hands and ask to be struck. It is an efficacious remedy for a sluggish mind.” Emma nodded to Sekiro as she rose as well. “I think I prefer your version, though.” “Aha! A fine Buddha indeed.” The Sculptor appeared with one of his wooden idols, one of surpassing craftsmanship. Without any hesitation he flung the idol onto the fire. The others reacted with a combination of horror and disbelief that led into a general clamor. Sekiro himself adopted a blank expression, as there was certainly a finer point to this act that he did not understand. “Protest all you like, it’s only a statue.”

“Of the Tathagatha. Such shame you bring with your recklessness,” seethed Emma. The sculptor scoffed.

Having recovered from his initial shock, Fujioka looked into the Sculptor’s eyes. “This is something I heard about once. That old pervert Ikkyu once did the same. But...”

“A common error, sir. Not Ikkyu, but Tanka.” He turned to Emma. “Do you mean to say that I burned the Buddha himself? Some relic of the Shaka Nyorai?”

“No, it is simply a wooden statue, but-”

“Simply wood,” he interrupted. “Then you do not mind if I burn another as the night grows colder?”

No one spoke for a long moment.

Fujioka broke the silence. “Ya think maybe we studied enough for the young master? I’d like to know for next time... I mean, if there is a next time... who are the masters you’d wanna hear more from?”

“Let us decide which sage would win in a battle, then!” The Sculptor’s face creased with amusement. “Wolf, who do you think?”

“Rinzai, of course. His stealth and fearsome strikes would take the day.” He turned to Emma. “What would you say, doctor?”

“Eno, the patriarch. His touch could make even the most ephemeral things as immovable as mountains. They say in a distant temple he sits mummified, unmoving but still meditating. True strength.”

“I dunno if the Heir thinks this is appropriate. Says here the Buddha himself specified that this subject is not suitable for the path to enlightenment.” He leaned forward with a sly whisper. “I would be like Dorin. Simple, happy teachings, and could spring through the trees like a monkey. Or a shinobi.”

“My turn,” said the Sculptor. “I am sure of my preference for the toughest master. Eka, Damo’s disciple. A great general before that, a fearsome warrior. To prove his devotion to becoming a student of Damo, he cut off his own arm and presented it to the patriarch, and became a great teacher in his own right. Invincible.”

Sekiro’s intuition prickled at him. He tensed, sensing something akin to danger, but...

The sculptor removed his wooden arm and held it aloft. “Wolf, I’ve seen how well you adapted to my previous arm. Such clever uses of the humble mechanisms I installed. But this thing? What use is it? I carved one arm with the other arm. Eka did not even replace his. So perhaps...” He shivered. “Is it cold in here?”

The sculptor tossed his wooden arm onto the fire.

There was no outcry from the others. Only a shocked silence. The sculptor rubbed the bare spot where his shoulder terminated. “Now, Wolf, about that sake...”

A slight smile. “For the Sangha?”

“For the Sangha.” Another uncomfortable pause, then the Sculptor let loose with a cackle.

In the warmth and light of the fire, the others joined him in laughter as the arm lit the room with its flames. @thefatladysang

@poisonhemloc

The old route to Senpou Temple started in the silvergrass field. Genichiro had never been to the temple, but there was a first time for everything. He needed the Mortal Blade, now, that was held there. The crimson one. The black one was further but much easier to get to, and relatively unguarded- but he didn’t want to risk the black one, the one that would kill Grandfather if he used it too much. Grandfather staying alive was the only reason the Interior Ministry hadn’t fully attacked Ashina. And he didn’t dare hasten the illness’s work before he had the Dragon’s Heritage, true immortality, not the Sediment’s poor version. With the Dragon’s Heritage he could stand up to the Interior Ministry, and win.

Grandfather had obviously thought the Sediment was making him unstable, when he stopped to tell him where he was going. A little part of Genichiro still wondered why he had even taken the time to do that. And wondered why he had come out here, where he had lost against the shinobi for the first time by a hair’s breadth, when the more reliable route to Senpou now ran through the dungeons. He turned to leave-

-and a strange depression in the grass caught his eye.

There was an arm. There was the shinobi’s arm, laying here unrotting. It had been a month, something should have at least tried chewing on it, but it looked as though he had just cut it off.

Some part of him knew why. He waited for the knowledge to work its way to the front of his mind through hazes of red.

The Dragon’s Heritage. The same as Tomoe. And Genichiro remembered a spar between Grandfather and Tomoe, when he was younger, before Takeru had died and Kuro had been born.

Neither of them were trying to be careful, but Isshin was always better at swordplay than Tomoe; xe had shined with archery instead, and taught Genichiro. And Isshin had cut off Tomoe’s right arm, with the same lunge Genichiro had used for the shinobi. And had given Genichiro a look, as Tomoe collapsed, and held the arm next to the stump, and when Tomoe revived it had reattached. And it had been like Isshin had never cut it off.

It must have been due to the Dragon’s Heritage. And now…

The prosthetic Dogen had spent days, months, working on, had been given to the shinobi. Every shinobi trick conceivable could fit in it. It would be better, smarter, to leave this somewhere the man would find it, and have him reattach it and lose the prosthetic and the advantage it gave.

But the rational train of thought was being drowned out by the louder, much more insistent voice that had listened to Orangutan complain, sometimes loudly, every time he was at the castle, about the arm he had lost continuing to hurt. And several soldiers, and samurai, who had also lost limbs and complained about the same thing. He shouldn’t delay any longer though, he needed to be moving. Genichiro grabbed the arm and left for the dungeons.

There was a brazier not far from the entrance, next to the cave Doujun had been reduced to using. Genichiro knocked it over and dropped the arm on top of the coals, watched it smoulder, and then catch when he dumped fabric- Doujun probably brought it over to tend to the stab wounds but they were fine, the Sediment was healing everything- and watched as the arm caught and blazed. He had a lot of things he needed to do but… he could wait, for a few minutes, ignoring Doujun grumbling as he retreated to the little cave and watch the armor distort and melt and the arm reduce to blackened bones before he turned and left for Senpou.

Isshin watched the shinobi nod politely, and stand. He would be after the Crimson Mortal Blade, now, like Genichiro was. He half turned- and tensed up, and grimaced, just for a second, but Isshin saw it. The prosthetic definitely twitched, and his good arm looked like he was going to grab at it for a moment, before he went back to the blank face he always wore.

“Something wrong, Sekiro?” Another little hint of emotion, he did not like that Isshin had seen that and commented on it. Now, would he lie, or admit to it? And which would make that shadow in his eyes worse?

“...Just for a second, my… injury, hurt. More than it has. I… believe I need to talk to Lady Emma.”

“Go then! Emma knows what to do with severed limbs.” Isshin watched him leave, not using the prosthetic’s grappling hook like he had to get here. Not using the prosthetic at all, actually. He would have to ask Emma what had happened. He had not painstakingly arranged for this man to get to Kuro and helped him hone his talent for killing just for his arm to twinge a little and have him give everything up.

Wolf had opened the library window Kuro hadn’t been able to budge as soon as he was back, and talked to Kuro, and now was approaching Emma. He looked tenser than he had, had Isshin given him bad news? And he hesitated for a moment, before seemingly resigning himself.

“Something… happened, to the injury.” Emma fought to keep the shock off her face, Wolf was asking for medical help beyond the gourd? When she went to check in with Isshin would she find him cured, talking to a normal, sane Genichiro?

“Okay. We need to take the prosthetic off anyway, I need to check the bandages. What happened?” Wolf had been keeping his voice quiet; Kuro hopefully was too engrossed in reading to notice, and Emma stayed quiet as well.

“It felt like I touched metal held in a fire, with the cut part of my arm.” Emma frowned, helping him remove the prosthetic and the remainder of the kote, not touching the scarf he was overly protective of. Pain from the missing limb, that happened a lot, and he had said it felt like burning. And pain in the remaining limb, from being cut. Burning in the remaining limb was not normal.

Wolf tensed up when she started unwrapping bandages, too, but that was normal for him. There were clean bandages up here, at least, Emma didn’t want to reuse what she was unwrapping. She should have changed everything when he woke up, but there was no way he would have trusted her enough to let her. Nevermind that she had bandaged the arm in the first place and been changing it while he’d been unconscious, and worried that it never looked like it was healing, just not bleeding as much.

Now it did, it looked… like he had said, like someone had cauterized it. Which was normally what Emma would have done anyway, except the Dragon’s Heritage should have healed it completely.

“You were just talking with Isshin?”

“Yes.”

“...Well, it cauterized itself. I don’t know why. It’s still going to hurt- it might hurt more, for a while. I need you to stay here for a few hours, at least, in case something else happens.”

“I cannot. I have Lord Kuro’s orders to fulfil.” Like he hadn’t asked Emma to check his arm. “I will-”

“Not leave until tomorrow at earliest.” Loud enough Kuro heard, hopefully. “Give your arm some chance to heal, since it’s finally started to.” She ignored the dirty look that flashed across his face for a moment as she placed new bandages and helped replace the remains of the left kote that the prosthetic tied onto.

Kuro walked to the front of the library as Wolf pushed Emma’s hands away and finished tying on the prosthetic himself.

“Wolf, please, if you are in pain the ingredients can wait.” Kuro was frowning, one of his hands was fidgeting with the book he still held. “And you did just duel Genichiro. Everything can wait til tomorrow morning, Wolf.” Kuro was probably too far away to hear a bitten back sigh.

“Of course, my lord.”

Emma had her own quarters at night, and Kuro had blankets in this room and had insisted on giving Wolf one of them; he had insisted on giving Wolf several of them, actually, and it had taken a few minutes of careful discussion before Wolf convinced him not to, but he wouldn’t be budged on Wolf having at least one and continuing to refuse was inviting him to order Wolf to accept more. How much Kuro seemed to care for Wolf- Wolf, who had failed at Hirata, who had spent too long trying to find Kuro and get to Ashina, and then failed again immediately- was. Strange. It must have been because Wolf was the only person left from Hirata, this was not how masters treated their servants. At least Wolf would stay awake if he was here, stay on guard.

And he failed at that, too, jerking awake in the middle of the night, biting his tongue to stop a yell like he had with Isshin, feeling like his missing arm had been crushed. It was still gone. The pain persisted for a few minutes, before fading back to the burning pain he had been trying to tune out. Emma was not being told about this, if she came before he left in the morning; Wolf had a duty to his lord, and he did not want to be delayed again because she thought he couldn’t work through pain.

Genichiro, angrier already than he had been, stomped back down the passageway, snapping at the soldiers he had ordered to keep watch down here to pay attention. Senpou was a waste. The monks were easy enough to kill, not one of them could block a swing from him, but every bridge to the monastery was broken. What was he supposed to do, scale Mt Kongo itself just to get to the main hall?

So the black blade would have to do. Open Gate. The weaker of the blades, sure, but it was enough. It was closer too, easier to get to; why had he even bothered with Senpou Temple? He should have gone straight for it. Yes, Grandfather thought it was tied to his life, but no one really knew, just some shrine maiden twenty years ago wrote a lot of stuff on a scroll to justify keeping the sword. It was all speculation. And it was just in a shrine halfway to Hirata and north. And Dragon’s Heritage or not, it would kill the shinobi for good and Kuro wouldn’t have a choice, and with enough of the generals sharing immortality they would drive off the Interior Ministry.

...Here was the remains of the fire where he’d burned the arm. The bones looked blackened, but still recognizable. Genichiro stamped on them as he passed, splintering them into pieces, and continued out of the dungeons, back out of the castle, before it was light.

[sweetestlamb]

Stronger Part 4 (A New Day Has Come)

Summary: Mun-yeong spends some time with someone important and a gets a surprise.

Author's Note: Got an annoying comment on this story yesterday and it motivated me to write lol so thanks! Hope you guys like and comments, that motivate me even more 😉🥰 nothing like love to drive out hate! The story is coming to an end unfortunately, I'm thinking 2 more chapters maybe three. If I had time I would drag it out for 9 😂😂 but schools start Monday so there goes my life. Happy reading y'all.

Solitude gripes at her insanity, tearing her apart until she succumbs to the thoughts that plague her mind of her inadequacies and how insignificant she is to those around her.

Being around Sang-tae oppa fills a portion of the void in your chest but his presence only reminds her further of another that she's dreadfully missing, his messages overflow her phone now. Taking a swift turn from condescending to something sweeter and more pleading. It takes every ounce of restraint in her body not to open them, relying on the bits she can see in the previews. Fully turning a blind eye to him is beyond difficult for her, every atom of her being is calling out for him.

She has dragged herself from the car too many times, desperate to run to him and soothe his pain, eager to see what he wants to talk about, maybe just maybe he's ready to apologize and unclench the clamp he placed on her heart that day on the beach.

But.

What if he isn't? What if he wants to share more of his past with her in the hopes that she'll overlook all that came before. In the past that might have been the case, she had been ever forgiving, something that only he was privy to. But his words ring in her ears- one time event, get lost- invading her dreams and taking the place of her mother's floating figure terrorizing her nightly.

Somewhere along the way she realized that she puts him first, his emotions and comfort have taken precedent over her own and when she'd searched what exactly that meant the answer made her head spin.

A four letter word that most humans will experience except Ko Mun-yeong.

She's much too selfish and destructive to be ever love or be loved by another, she knows that know. When he'd finally opened up to her, there'd been a plethora of emotions that clawed to the surface and vengeance had been one of them, it wasn't enough that he was sharing his darkest secrets because of everything she'd been through to get there. It was as if he'd stabbed her in the chest, left her bleeding only to return and patch up her wounds, too much had occurred and the scarring remained.

So she left in the middle of the night, abandoned that godforsaken place, stuffing expensive fabrics in a vintage Louis Vuitton luggage set, eager to escape the dead silence that rang out in the castle without the Moon brothers pumping life back into it.

In the end she didn't go far, finding a guest house that reminded her of that brief getaway with him, she paid for the week and turned off her phone fielding persistent check in calls from Sang-in. Gang-tae hadn't tried to call merely texting that they should talk and it was almost laughable that despite his seeming desperation he still seemed reluctant to go the full mile. Only her deep rooted sadness stopped her from chuckling at her circumstances, what a tragic mess.

She didn't let his current persistence fool her, fool me once shame on you fool me twice, well everyone knew the rest. It was time she stopped looking like a fool. Regardless of what she felt for him she knew that that this couldn't be, he'd been right all along.

I hope I never see you again.

So much heart ache could have been prevented if she'd heeded his warning. So she was doing it now, her anger had fizzled off tempering into bitter acceptance.

He would give up soon enough, that was his style.

The woman in charge of the guest house steers clear of her and the first day she lays carelessly on the bed roll, not even bothering to comb her hair. Simply, being. It's intoxicating and new, her phone remains turned off tossed to the side as she thinks about nothing- ignoring the way that nothing something has deep sad eyes and a bowl hair cut. She's trying to think about nothing and that's what counts.

She has food delivered and it's strange to eat something that isn't a Subway sandwich after all the food Sang-in as been bringing her and temporarily guilt forms in the pit of her belly, he's probably going crazy trying to locate her but she's just not ready. She's still tired. Bone chilling fatigue.

The next day she walks down a dirt road, her long white dress dragging on the ground, dirtied but the thin material allows a passing breeze to wash across her body and she's content, staring at the sky and thinking of nothing. She spots a lone bird sitting in a tree and wonders if all the other birds have left it behind, whether it has nowhere to go and no one to see. Then she berates herself for worrying about a bird, all this time alone is pushing the limits of her sanity.

The days bleed into each other, dawn folding into dusk with watercolor skies and earthy morning dew.

She tries to write but it's hard to get any words down that aren't depressing and she can't think of any morals or lessons besides don't let anyone in.

Then she tries her hand at drawing, a portrait of her twisting a deer's neck.

The guest house keeper asks her if she hates bears the next day and that's the end of that endeavor.

The week is coming to an end and she's no where closer to knowing what to do, maybe it's time to go back to Seoul, leave this all behind like a bad dream.

When she finally deems herself mentally prepared she turns on her phone, pinging and vibrating from all the forlorn messages, sputtering in her hand as she watches in shock. As expected Sang-in has called and messaged and threatened, she smirks at his empty threats, heart slightly warmed.

Ju-ri, Seung-jae, Sang-tae, and him. All their names flash on her screen. Surprising her, as she'd never expect them to notice her disappearance. Much less reach out to her. Strange. But she writes it off, maybe Sang-in had roped them all into it. With trepidation she opens her messenger and responds to one, keeping a promise, with a few presses and a selfie she sends the message and closes the phone with a sigh.

Done.

The next day the clouds are smoggy ash grey in the sky, darkening the skies into something fierce and she pulls on a sweater and forgoes an umbrella welcoming the storm. Electricity swelters in the thick air causing a sheen of sticky perspiration to cling to her skin. She dons a simple sleeveless mini dress and sandals, trekking to the familiar dirt road.

She walks for hours, aimlessly without a care or worry in her head. Thoughts of him still push their way in at times but she's come to accept that as her baseline, once she returns to Seoul he will be nothing but a faint memory of the time she dreamed too big.

The first drop of rain on her skin makes goose pimples explode across her flesh, fat and chilled as they cascade from the atmosphere. Turning her head up towards the heavens she grins bitterly at nothing, her whole life has been nothing but rain, the moment is oddly fitting.

Mud splatters to her feet coating her toes in sloshy brown that slides between her toes, drenched from the downpour she slowly walks back no haste in her movement, steady footsteps despite the speed of the rain as it pelts against her.

The guest house comes back into sight as she meanders to the gate, vaguely remembering that she'd pulled it shut yet the doors now swing open. Blaming that on the rain she steps through, pulling it shut behind her continuing to stride to the steps.

As she hears the sliding door she eyes catch a figure blurry through the watery sheet in front of her eyes, the voice calling her name stops her in her tracks, no longer able to pretend that it's a mirage.

Her eyes aren't deceiving her, there he is. Once again finding her in the rain, except this time she doesn't need to be saved, she'll be the one doing the saving. For them both.

She takes him in, the rain soaking his hair flat onto his face, clothes plastered to his body as he stands eerily still, dark pools intensely taking her in as well.

After the slight hiccup, she continues walking taking off her sullied sandals and tossing them to the side and then she places her hand on the door, prepared to enter and forget what she saw. Ignorance is bliss.

"Mun-yeong."

All he has to say to get her heart pounding like a drum, she screams in her mind. That time spent apart should have made this easier, why didn't this feel easy? All the fatigue that she'd been running from hits her like a freight train crashing through her passive wall.

"Get lost."

He moves to block her way and her rage simmers below the surface.

"I've been worried about you. We all were so worried. You can't just leave like that, why did you go without saying anything?" His voice is wavering between anger and something softer, more human that makes his voice crack on the last syllable.

"Move."

She's not ready to assess what his being here means, what his voice and his concern mean. None of it makes sense and she's going to file it all under: unexplained phenomenon.

"Can't we talk first, please?"

"I don't want to talk." She sidesteps him, reaching once more for the door.

"Mun-yeong let me explain, let me make this right. I'm sor--"

"Shut up. I said I didn't want to talk. Go back you saw me, I'm alive you don't need to say anything more."

She's not sure she'll be able to contain herself if he says anything else, she's already dangling off the cliff. She can't allow herself to fall and burst apart.

"No! Why are you pushing me away? I need you! I told you I needed you I meant that, you can't just run away damn it."!

She stares blankly before her throat croaks and laughter tumbles from her lips. Deep belly chuckles that shake her body viciously.

Then quick as a switch the laughter stops.

Diamond hard gaze locked on his bewildered face before she speaks, "You think you're the only one who wanted? Do you? I wanted you to stay. I wanted you to fight for me, to let me in. I wanted you to see that I was hurt and apologize and mean it. You think a kiss is enough, you think telling me everything is enough after you break my heart? It's not!" Her voice pierces through the cacophonous drone of the rain beating the world, crying its heart out.

He jolts at her pained cries, fingers reaching for her but she immediately moves out of reach feeling naked and raw under his stare.

You broke my heart.

She's shown too much of her cards already, it's too late to bluff.

So she'll take a page from his book.

Throwing the door open and slamming it shut, holding it tight.

He doesn't try to open it. She sighs in relief leaning back against the hard wood, feeling all the fight evacuate her body.

He's probably gone. You pushed him too hard. Who are you to reject him? No one else will ever tolerate you.

Her thoughts don't scare her, just like Gang-tae had chosen his brother and the life he knew she was doing the same, choosing herself and the loneliness she'd grown accustomed to. Why give him another chance to throw her away he was clearly capable of it, it was only a matter of time she wouldn't change. Couldn't change. Immovable object.

The rain falls and falls, washing everything away and making the world anew. She lays on her back wondering how far he's gotten in this downpour. How had he even found her? All questions she'll never get the answers to.

Sleep tugs her eyelids shut as her thoughts swirl until they too fade to black.

Hands held high over her head, she pulls her tired bones feeling the tension melt with each stretch. Gathering clothes to take a much needed bath she carelessly tugs the door open only to jump back when he almost tumbles into her room.

What.

"What? What are you doing here?" She shrieks, avoiding collision by the barest inch.

"Waiting for you."

She blinks at him, taking in his drenched clothes-noting his shivers- and the dark circles that sink into the skin beneath his eyes, resembling a raccoon.

Had he slept outside all night? And if he had was he insane, why didn't he go back home?

"Why didn't you go back? Are you crazy? You can't sleep outside in the rain!"

She blushes at her outburst, slapping a hand over her traitorous mouth. He merely looks at her, she overlooks the tender glint in his eyes.

Stepping forward he grabs her hand, she fights to pull her appendage away but he tightens his grip which contrasts immensely with the softness in his eyes.

Voice like warm honey he answers, "Because you're here and I.....need you. I'm not going anywhere."

The sun shines brightly outside as a new day rises somewhere in the distance a lone bird's call is answered by another.

[star-crossedfidelity]

Juliet’s Story - I’m Sorry, My Love

~

Mun!Yuki: HOO BOY! HELLO EVERYBODY!!! IT’S BEEN A WHILE!!! So uh... I have finally finished this after about two months? This one is actually going to be a bittersweet one.

So um... Lind/Milady (formerly known as @/first-blood-moon) has silently left the fandom, and while I didn’t get a reply regarding the relationship between Juliet and Thomas, I think it would be for the best from them to break up.

Not just for angst reasons, but I think it would help Juliet grow as well in her own development as a character.

Sometimes, good things must come to an end. It’s something we’ve all experienced and have to go on with our lives doing. It’s a frustrating thing but it’s not exactly a bad thing. It’s an experience.

So I decided to write this as a proper way of transitioning from one chapter of Juliet’s life to another.

There is also an extra bit in the end, so please do stick around to the very end!

To help set the mood for this rollercoaster: Please do listen to this track while reading this.

I hope you guys enjoy as well as I did writing this.

~

He wasn’t responding back to my letters.

He made me promise to not look for him or follow him, but he also promised to send me letters.

Something must’ve happened to him.

I’m sorry, My love; But I’m going to find you.

In the middle of the night, once everyone was asleep, I grabbed the things I packed in advance to leave through my bedroom window. I live on the first floor while my parents live in the second floor with Leon.

Before I leave, I placed a sealed envelope on my desk.

A gut-wrenching feeling hit my stomach; To think I would leave behind the family I loved most in this world...

But for him, I...

‘I’m sorry, Mother, Father, Leon.’

I open up the window and jumped out before closing the window close as carefully as I could before getting prepared to leave.

I take one last look back to the house, before letting out a shaky sigh.

‘Goodbye...’

... That was what I hoped it could’ve been.

Before I could go further ahead, I stopped at a familiar figure in front of me, “Leon...”

Leon, my little brother whom I grew up alongside with all of my life, blocking my way.

He wasn’t looking at me with his usually gentle, understanding eyes. He looked stern and grounded. A look he only had when he is determined to a point nothing can change his mind.

‘My little brother.. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be..’

“... Go back inside, Leon.” I commanded, staring down at him; However, he showed no signs of backing down. “You’re going to go look for him... aren’t you?” He questioned. I can only be silent. But like that even mattered. He knows me well enough as I know him better than himself. “Sis, please, this needs to stop. You must snap out of it.” Leon pleaded. But like him, I showed no signs of submitting either, ”Snap out of what? You’re spouting nonsense. I won’t go back. He’s in trouble, and he needs me-“

“Sis, He hasn’t written to you for two month!” Leon’s voice rose, “There has been no word of where he could’ve gone! Not even the letters he sent to you were enough to pick up where he could be! How can you find him when you don’t even know where to look first?!” With every word he spoke, my irritation grew alongside my frustration. ‘He’s spouting nonsense again... Why was I wasting my time talking with him? My beloved needs me..!’

“Sis, listen to me-!!”

“ENOUGH!”

I growled and grabbed his collar before pulling him towards me, “You have no idea what the hell you’re talking about! You’re the one that needs to listen and to snap out of it! Tom and I are still in love! He wouldn’t just stop writing to me without a good reason! That means something must’ve happened! And all you’re doing is wasting the time I could be using to find him by spouting nonsense! He NEEDS me! Just as much as I need him! I’m not like you and that blue-haired bastard, We have no problems with our relationship unlike you two!!!”

In my heart, I knew I have hurt Leon’s feeling with my words. But my mind was clouded with rage and impatience to find my beloved that I couldn’t even feel the painful guilt from seeing the shocked, hurtful look upon Leon’s face.

And just as I was about to pull my hand away, I felt Leon’s hand gripping at the wrist of the hand I’ve grabbed his collar with. I looked at his hand in confusion before looking up to see his face was no longer shocked and hurt. While he did look pained, he had fiery determination in his eyes. “If he needed you, he would’ve asked you to come along with him!!!”

I gasped at his words.

Who is this?

Who am I speaking to right now?

Leon? Or Leo?

Leon would never say such words to me, or anyone in general; But Leo wouldn’t care if I left as he would be the first to celebrate.

So.. who is this in control?

“You’ve been like this with everyone! Denying the truth when it is right there! Whenever someone speaks up about it, you’re always looking for a fight! This isn’t healthy! At least Isaiah and I were able to work things out! Just because you two never had problems doesn’t mean your relationship was never going to end! That’s reality! Of all people, you should know that better than anyone! I’m not trying to stop you because I want to get in your way! I’m trying to stop you because I want to help you the same way you helped me! It’s time to accept the truth! And if you won’t face it, then I’ll just say it to you so you can finally understand!”

I gritted my teeth and growled, “Shut up...”

“He’s gone!”

I feel my body shaking from the rage bottling up within me, “Take that back...!”

“It’s over between you two!”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE, LEON!!!” I yelled at him, balling my free hand up in a fist.

“HE’S NOT COMING BACK, JULIET!!!”

My eyes were clouded with the color red and I was about to throw my fist into a punch until...

“Hic..! Sis...!”

A memory...

A memory of little Leon, bruised up and crying on the ground, trembling and helpless.

From the memory flashing in my mind, I blinked and was brought back into reality, immediately stopping my fist right in front of Leon.

I looked in shock as I saw that tears were running down Leon’s face. He looked as if he was bracing himself for the impact yet he flinched and trembled with his eyes were shut. He looked scared, yet somehow prepared.

It was that moment, I realized what I was doing.

I loosen my grip, resulting Leon loosing his own grip on my wrist, and looked down at both of my hands. I sensed Leon’s eyes were open and looking at me as I stared down at my own trembling hands. “What.. What the hell was I doing...?” I questioned myself.

‘I was about to punch Leon... my sweet, kind brother that I swore to protect from any harm since we were little...’ I thought to myself, ‘But these hands... I was about to hit him... and I hurt him with my own words...’

As I stared down to my hands, droplets fell upon the palms. I blinked in confusion and realized... these were my tears.

“Leon...” I tried to speak as the realization made it hard for me to breathe, “I-I... I’m so sorry...”

I felt warm arms embracing me, and heard my brother’s whispers of reassurance. “It’s okay... I’m here with you... It’s just me.. You can let it out... You’re human too... You don’t have to prove yourself anymore, Sis...”

‘He forgives me... but could I really forgive myself for what I was about to do...?’

I couldn’t look up at him, but I knew he was crying alongside with me. This is the first time we’ve ever fought with one another.

‘I’m a selfish woman.. I’m cruel.. I’m ruthless.. I’ve been very open and proud of those things about me... I’m Juliet Marie Mukami.’

I slowly wrap my arms around Leon, holding him tightly as we both slowly fell to the ground.

‘But just for tonight... just let me be a girl suffering a broken heart...’

“Hic... hic...! Aaaaaaaahhhh....!!”

I couldn’t help but cry out all the grief, pain, and anxiety that swelled up within me into Leon’s chest.

I used to think that love besides familial was a illogical and useless thing to feel. But when I found it, I changed. For the better. And yet... if this was how it was meant to be, I... A part of me wished I never met him... But another part of me was happy to have fallen in love with him...

My memories with him filled up in my mind as I poured my heart out from the tears flowing from my eyes. The day we met, the day he approached me in wanting to be my friend, the day I confessed to him, the day he gave me the necklace, returned my feeling, and shared our first kiss, the day we went on our first date together...

I miss him...

I miss my Thomas...

I suppose this really is goodbye...

I’m sorry, my love....

~

It has been about three years since his disappearance... since our love story came to its end. We tried to make it work... But the distance grew wider and before I knew it, the letters came to a complete stop. Just as Leon said. I became delusional, waiting for his return; I even tried to follow him, prepared to leave everything behind; But Leon stopped me and opened my eyes to the truth:

He was never coming back.

While I was delusional, I coped by studying to get back into school. My school of choice being Ryoutei Academy in hopes he would come back to see I’ve become a better woman than ever before; Even after accepting the breakup, I was too far into my studying to go back. As a result, I got into the academy with flying colors and even became the new Student council President for my second year. I maintained my usual dominant, sadistic nature, I’ve toned down my need to fight to prove my dominance. Since then, I’ve been working on improving myself with this new position, which has surprisingly earned me the respect of others. I’m no longer known as the delinquent girl that would violently beat up others with my book; Rather, I’m the authoritative Student council President that will not tolerate any insubordination that will cause hindrance to the students.

“President, I just received word that the rest of the new student council members have all arrived in the student council room!” The Vice-president of the student council informed me as she spotted me coming out of the library, checking out a new book. “Thank you, Suwabe.” Suwabe is a third year that was also part of the student council when I was a first year; However, I was chosen as President for my second year due to, not only the former president finding me a suitable successor, but also from Suwabe willingly choosing to take the position of Vice-President. She is a good upperclassman to have, as she doesn’t belittle my vast knowledge; Apparently, it made things easier for her that I already knew everything so that it would save her the trouble of having to explain it. Quite a strange one. But not a bad one.

“Willing to make a bet?” She questioned with a kind smile on her face. I only continued to look forward as we walked and replied, “When will you cease this kind of nonsense? I already told you I’m never going to be interested in anybody. Love-“

“-is an unnecessary feeling to have.” Suwabe giggles softly after she finished of my sentence. Suwabe was different from the other girls here who would gossip about dating and material stuff. If anything, Suwabe loves to observe interesting events unfold and making bets on unpredictable futures which I have been guilty of taking part in; Like me, she is extremely observant and can predict a person’s move as well as I can. I guess that’s why I tolerate her better than anyone else here. She’s entertaining.

“The future is an unpredictable thing; I will bet you will fall in love during your term as Student council President; But you are free to bet that you will not fall in love during your term. You know I’m doing this as a form of entertainment for us both.” She explained. “Is there a reason you want to bet on this now? Whenever you make bets about my love life, you always voted I won’t fall in love with even the former members of the council. What make you decide to bet on the opposite side?” I questioned. In response to that, Suwabe’s smile turns into a smirk, “Because you’re entertaining to observe. From a rebellious delinquent to a respectable model student. Also, your younger brother is coming here as a first-year and you two are close, correct? If that’s the case, I’m pretty sure this year will become fun to observe.”

I glance at it and smirk back, “I suppose it would be a good change of pace for this school year. I won’t deny the fact that your eccentric nature is certainly something I’m going to miss once you graduate; Perhaps I should take advantage of this chance while we still have it.”

“Hahaha! Now that’s more like it! I knew you wouldn’t be able to refuse! You just know how to lit the fire within this gambler’s heart!” Suwabe laughs. Now I’m convinced that when my third year starts, I’m going to die of boredom without having this damn fool around.

We reached to the student council room, and, just as Suwabe said, everyone was seated; Especially the new ones. I see one face that looked rather familiar somewhere. A boy. One of the new first years perhaps? But I mentally shook my head and shrugged it off. If he’s somehow familiar, then he must be a friend of Leon’s that I just don’t remember.

“I see that everyone is present here,” I said as I looked around the room with my arms crossed, “Not bad.”

Suwabe goes to her usual seat before winking at me as a reminder of our little bet. In my mind, I simply rolled my eyes. She won’t be around long, so to humor her a little is the least I can do for keeping me entertained for this long since the beginning of my first year here.

I went back to being the icy, cruel-hearted girl I’ve always been. A woman that found love to be unnecessary.

But that’s okay... I’ve accepted the truth and will move on with my life.

I suppose that was one of the things that caught Suwabe’s attention in the first place. And that’s also why she recommended me to the former Student Council President as their successor. Someone that wasn’t swayed by unnecessary things, that can be trusted with enforcing the rules, and a reputation that can make the disobedient kneel and obey.

I just happened to be the right person for the job.

I have had about one or two men that have tried to confess, but I’ve shot them both down with a blunt “No”. It wasn’t anything personal. Everyone knows I never sugarcoat my words, and things like love became unnecessary. Thus, I’m highly unapproachable when it comes to stuff like that.

“My name is Mukami Juliet. I am a second year from Class 2-A.” I began, “I am also the new Student Council President from now on, so listen very carefully.”

Even if I never smile his smile again..

Even if I somehow love another or not...

Somewhere in my frozen heart, remains fragments of my love for him.

“Do not disappoint me as members of the student council, or you will be punished; That is your only warning.”

Forever and always.

~ END~

~~~

Special chapter:

~ Leon’s Special POV ~

I have been waiting for this day to come.

I finally get to attend school with Sis.

It has been about three years since our first fight.

But we’ve both grown in our own way.

She is more well-respected now, now that she is facing the truth instead of using violence to get her way.

I have overcome my fears and accepted my inner demons, becoming whole once again instead of running away from it all.

We agreed not to talk about what happened and act as if nothing happened.

It’s just better that way.

“Hey Leon!!!”

‘Wait, that voice..!’

Before I could finish that thought, I feel an arm around my shoulder and met with a familiar face.

Reddish pink hair, dark violet eyes, a boyish grin that you can identify from a mile away... There was no mistake about it!

“Shiki! You made it!” I smiled back, giving him a side hug.

Igarashi Shiki.

He’s been my best friend ever since elementary school.

He was always encouraging me and defended me from bullies.

We were always inseparable; Except during middle school, he had to train in order to become an idol. So we often texted each other.

However, once he told me he was also attending Ryoutei Academy and was in the same class as me, We could hardly wait.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world, man. We need to make up for lost time!” Shiki laughed, “How have you been? I see you’ve grown out your hair pretty long now, huh?”

It’s true. Ever since my personality merged and I became one with Leo, I decided to take the first step in letting my hair grow out. Now it’s at my waist. I’m satisfied with how it looks.

“I’ve been good, excited even,” I look up at the night sky with a smile, “You’re here. My sister’s here. Life is good right now.”

“Wait.. Julie is here too?”

I turned to see Shiki’s face in surprise.

“Yeah, she’s the new student council president now. She cleaned up from being delinquent and...”

... Wait a minute.

“... You still like her.”

Shiki looked down with a sad smile and removes his arm around me, “You catch on pretty quick...” He places a hand behind his neck awkwardly.

I sighed, feeling bad from what I’ve just done.

Shiki... has always had unrequited feelings for Sis.

One day, when we were still kids, we were cornered by bullies who were older than us; But when Shiki was about to engage in a fight with them, Sis appeared and beaten them all up with her book. Almost killing them.

But despite the fact that incident almost lead her to a juvenile center, Shiki developed a crush on her right then and there.

... Actually, no. He fell in love with her.

But he didn’t want to neglect me as his friend either. So whenever Sis is in the same room as us, Shiki took any moment he can get just by looking at her.

But that all changed when she met Thomas.

Her ex.

At first, Shiki was immensely jealous. How did someone like him catch Sis’s attention?

But then when he saw how happy Sis looked with him, Shiki saw no chance in even competing for her affections and cried to me when he found out she liked Thomas back.

I think that was what lead him to become an idol.

I mean, he always thought he would make a good idol from Uncle Kou; But he never seemed like he would actually do it due to the strict rules with “No love” and such.

But after that, he ended up going for it and ended up genuinely loving his job.

But what if...

“Sis is single right now.”

Shiki raises his head and grabbed my shoulder firmly with a serious look on his face, “No way! Wasn’t she with..?!”

I smiled sadly, “She was... But three years ago, he disappeared and stopped writing letters to her... She almost ran away and-“

“Was that when you called me...? When you were crying about how you and Juliet had your guys’ first fight? That’s what that was about?” Shiki questioned, I could only respond as a nod, “Holy shit...” He added, removing his hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.. If I had known you still had feelings for her sooner, I would’ve-“

“Holy shit...!” I see the look upon Shiki’s face slowly glowing in pure happiness as he laughs with his hands on his head whole-heartedly, “Hahaha!!! This is... This means I still have a chance!” He pumps a fist in the air and looks like he was about to burst into tears.

Has he been holding onto those feelings after all these years?

“But you’re an idol now, right?” I blurted out, “Even if you were successful, wouldn’t you end up getting in trouble?”

Shiki turned around to me and grinned, “Leon, I’ve been waiting my whole life for this moment. I’ll find a way to continue my work as an idol and make Julie happy!”

The moment I realize he was running, I shout out, “Hey! Where are you going?!”

Shiki turns to me and winks, “Didn’t I tell ya?! I’m part of the Student Council too! I’ll see you later, Leon!!!” And he left.

I just stood alone in disbelief and confusion.

Only a couple moments later was when I was able to say the only I could think of from these turn of events.

.

.

.

“HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?!!!!!!”

~ END ~

[peachyxanzu]

About The Mun!

Tagged by: @ohmaiwhathavewedone

Name: Stacey (Sing the one song..and I’ll block you. >.>)

Star sign: Gemini 

Height: 5′5"

Put your itunes / spotify on shuffle. what are the first 6 songs that popped up?

1. ‘Mistress’-Disturbed 

2. ‘Money Honey’-Lady Gaga

3. ‘Tine Bealtaine’- Omnia

4. ‘Back in the USA’-Green Day

5. ‘Ex Lover’s Lover’-Aurelio Voltaire 

6. ‘Still Waiting’-Sum 41

Grab one book nearest to you and turn to page 23. what’s line 17?:  ‘The reason they were so attracted to each other was because their chemistry matched.’ (XD I read erotic books...a lot..lol) 

Ever had a poem or a song written about you?:  Nope.

When was the last time you played air guitar?:  Last week when I was listening to Queen. lol 

Who is your celebrity crush?: Johnny Depp 

What’s a sound you hate?: Fire truck sirens. >< Blame PTDS

Sound you love?: My kitty purring. <33

Do you believe in ghosts?: Yes 

How about aliens?: Yes

Do you drive?: Erm..no. I only have my permit. ;u; And like..I have only had maybe..3 lessons?

Have you ever crashed?: Yes, but not when I was driving. My ex fell asleep on the road and we ended up in a rather low ditch..good thing I was wearing my seat belt. x.x

What was the last book your read?: Night Stalker by Angelina Evans

Do you like the smell of gasoline?: Bleh..not really. The smell triggers bad memories. 

What was the last movie you saw?:  Black Butler book of Atlantic

What was the worst injury you ever had?: Uhh..when I was like 6?? My brother threw a toy speaker at me when he was trying to hit the wall out of anger..yeah..I ended up having 4 staples on the left side of my head. Ended up missing a month of school. 

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Yu-gi-oh and Final Fantasy 7...mainly the ship of Cloud and Tifa. Huurrrr... <3333 I love that shit! xD 

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?: Depends on what they did. Usually no...but if it’s super personal..it takes a while for me to forgive them.

In a relationship?: Single af xD Tagging: Eh..if you wanna do it, you can. I don’t wanna spam anyone. <3 

[sapientiaethumanitas]

Maximian - Has your character ever regretted a noble deed?  for  @toussainttwins​

Ladies, when I read your comment below the answer I was admittedly a little confused before I realized what your razor-sharp mind had actually found out correctly. The mun apologizes deeply, the whole Roman antiquity seems to have clouded her head a bit.

"I have that too, my dearest."

"Sometimes it was mundane things, like helping someone with food or advice, who right after spat on me or insulted me.  But the worst experience I had in this regard was with a patient back in Nazair. I struggled for over a week to keep him alive - he had a bad fever due to an infected wound, I didn't sleep for over ten days, was at his bedside day and night, developing new medicine, especially for him. 

When he woke up on the eleventh day, he had probably expected to wake up in heaven - or whatever humans call it. But when he saw me, he punched me in the face, my nose was bleeding terribly. He screamed at me that I should have let him die, what  a selfish - forgive my expression, ladies - asshole I am. He spat on me and then he never spoke to me again. I blamed it on the shock he must have suffered at death's door. 

But when I went to his room the next morning to talk to him, he had cut his wrists and destroyed my effort. I would not say that I regret this, but when his wife came to fetch him a little later, she was pleased. She started to laugh out loud when she saw him lying dead on the bed. When I asked her what caused her joy, she told me that he had been hitting, abusing and mistreating her all her life. 

I have never regretted saving a life, but this was probably the closest to regret.”

[thedarkestdragonknight]

They Suffer Still...

Here is a story that I have been wanting to do ever since I looked into the area of Azys Lla that housed the dragons and dragon parts. Actually discovering something like this would completely DESTROY Jacques and thus I am a cruel mother to my Dragon Son and wanted to write this... so yeah... Jacques suffers still and I am the most horrible Mun ever.

I swear I am nice to him... this was just too good of a thing to pass by and I wanted to actually put into detail just how something like this would affect him!

Content Warning: This story contains the following things that may be sensitive subjects including things such as Torture, Gore, Blood, Horror, Dismemberment, and floating dragon body parts that are still alive... this stuff is DISTURBING so please take care of yourself and do not read if you are sensitive to things like this.

It was one of those times where the Au Ra had found himself traveling out to the area of Azys Lla, his mind was buzzing again with the lingering memories of a time before the Elder Primal became what the people knew him as. It was rare that Jacques would suffer from having the memories of Bahamut bleeding over into his own but when they did he would feel all the pain that the great dragon felt and... the desires to see his beloved. So... the Au Ra would make the trips to Azys Lla every so often so that he could pay Tiamat a visit, to watch over her and to speak with her. 

He often worried about why she continued to keep herself contained as she was... the pain that she must be in with those things holding her in place. Jacques would see it... her labored breaths, how her forelimbs quivered with each one she let out. And yet, she would never free herself as he knew from what she told him... she refused to do so, feeling that her punishment for the things that transpired was this. Some part of him couldn't blame her for seeing it that way, what she went through and what was brought from the pain and agony she suffered was truly terrible. But some part of him truly wanted her to forgive herself... she had been manipulated into creating the Elder Primal, lead to believe that she could bring back her beloved.

Jacques brought his attention up to Tiamat... he had spent the better part of the day there with her, talking... listening to her. She knew of what he was, she knew of his ties... no doubt because she was so closely tied to him by blood. His Grandfather was one of Bahamut's brood after all and she was likely the mother of him... which made her his Grandmother. At least that's what he thought anyway... he was still working on figuring out what ties he held to Bahamut and to Midgardsormr... and while he was certainly able to speak with the dragon about everything he could ever want his conversations with Midgard were few and far between. Though the relationship they had now was one that easily showed the bonds that they formed after finding one another. It was almost time for him to leave... to go back home and spend more time trying to unravel the mysteries of his past and to not succumb to nightmares and the demons that plagued his mind. He never truly got closer to finding out all he could about himself... everything was raveled in mysteries and he had practically dug through every nook and cranny that he could find that potentially held information about him. The only area he hadn't been able to get to at this point was Garlemald and he wasn't about to go there without being prepared and having a proper plan and course of action that he could take. "I will speak with you again soon..." the man let out softly as he looked up towards the great dragon... she said nothing but she knew him well enough to know that he would return. Or... that he would come if she called. Jacques turned to take his leave, taking to a smaller form of his... draconic appearance and flying off towards the Helix where he would arrive... but that's when something hit him... caught his attention. Screaming... something in pain, something in agony... but what? He hadn't seen anyone so... who? Or what...? The dragons attention turned as he spotted a floating area which housed a building... that seemed to be where the source of the cries were coming from. And there seemed to be several screams now... the closer he got the more he heard, and the more quickly he was rushing to see just what was causing it. As he came up towards where the strange structure was the dragon was circling around the area to find an entrance... usually the Allagan's had multiple entries for their buildings and they weren't too hard for him to find. He only circled for a moment before he found one tunnel that lead inside and diving down Jacques landed before making his way inside... his tail dragging the ground behind him as he made his way in. He... was feeling uneasy... the screaming was becoming almost unbearable the further in he got. Jacques looked around as he came to the bottom of the ramp... the room was dark with a few sources of light coming from... crystals? Though as his attention turned to look around the dragon was almost immediately being assaulted by a Naga... A loud growl escaped his lips as the dragon jerked to a side to avoid being run through by the blade the thing had and he was quick to send a blast of flame at the thing which made it shriek in pain. Lunging forward Jacques simply took the thing down by grappling it's throat in his jaws and slamming it to the ground. A quick kill for the poor thing and a mercy for it perhaps because as Jacques was looking up from the corpse he noticed a singular tube that was shattered. Perhaps the thing broke free from there? With the Naga dealt with Jacques turned back to his more manageable form and he was slowly walking around... the screaming had yet to stop. And now... "Make it stop..." "Please no more..." "It burns..." "Let us die!" Rounding one of the areas with a solid tube that held a crystal within Jacques was looking at it when he was being assaulted by those pleas... no more... make it stop...? Turning his attention that's when he finally realized just what he was in... and saw what the source of the screaming and begging was coming from. The tubes within were not just there to house various crystals... no... within one of the tubes nearest him he could see a young dragon, suspended within and with several Neurolink's attached to it. 

"Please end my suffering... please kill me..." The Au Ra recoiled back... gripping at his head as his breathing began to pick up and grow more rapid... it... did it...? That wasn't the worst of it however as Jacques was walking to look at the other tubes, greeted with further horrors with every one he came up to examine. Most... housed the smaller dragons but he'd found one set that, held parts... limbs... and a suspended head within. That look of horror was quickly turning into a look of perpetual fear as Jacques brought his hand up to rest against the bottom of the tank... watching as the head bobbed up and down within the tube. "End our suffering... please father... make the pain stop..." Jacques was watching as those words sunk in and he saw as that eye shifted down to look at him... the thing was still ALIVE... and... quickly the Au Ra recoiled back and he was clutching at his head, digging claws in as his breathing was getting to a point where it was so rapid that he almost choked a few times on the breathes he was taking in. These were the Meracydian's... or rather... members of Bahamut's brood. Locked in a state of perpetual pain to feed the Elder Primal... he had read about it but... Stumbling back Jacques continued to grip his head as more of their pleas and agonized screams were bombarding his mind. They were desperate... they wanted to be free from the pain... and he could set them free but panic was setting in and clouding his mind. And that panic was causing the thought to flee to become the more prominent reaction to what he was seeing and hearing. Quickly the aura of his teleportation was rushing over him and before long the man stumbled forward and slumped against the gate that lead to his house that he shared with his companions. Of course, as he managed to teleport away the screaming became so much worse... "You abandoned us!?" "Traitor!" "Don't lease please..." "Come back!" Everything was a blur after those words struck him... Jacques quickly shoving his way into the house and practically rushing down the stairs where he'd staggered slightly slamming into the wall. It didn't stop him there and the Au Ra was up to the loft and collapsing on the bed as he shook his head frantically to try and calm himself and to get the words out of his mind. To get past the horrific things that he'd seen. He could have saved them... he could have ended their suffering but what did he do? Flee... Digging his claws into the blankets of the bed the Au Ra practically choked out a sob... collapsing onto the mattress finally as he tried to keep the sounds to a dull minimum so that if anyone happened to come in they wouldn't hear him "I... could have saved them... I should... have saved them..."

[moonstruck-ffxiv-blog]

IDENTIFICATION —

“Why do you love me? Why don’t you think I deserve to die like everyone tells me I should? Why don’t want to kill me? Isn’t it justice I die after all that suffering I have done?”

Full Name:  Mael Archevauliere

Pronunciation:  meəl ˈɑːrki vo lierre

Pseudonym:  Armandaux (elezen name he used when he pretend to be Miahtoux's adopted brother.)

Nicknames:  The Monster of the Shroud, the Ghost of Amdapor, Carnicula (by himself), Voidspawn,  Spoken Garbage, Freak

Age:   Unclear. He looks like 17-19 but there are hints he is possibly much older than that.

Name Day: (Unknown)

Birthplace:  In a village in the West Shroud that got blown up during the Calamity.

Guardian:  Oschon, the Wanderer

Residence: Amdapor.

REFERENCES —

“What I want… How do I know what I want? I never… I never had to do that before. My life has been always about running away and eating fish.” 

Motto:   “your hands don’t know how to be gentle. think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf-boy, you war machine. you wouldn’t know how to hold something magic and not destroy it.” (Natalie Wee) 

 Theme Song:  “Sinister Kid” by The Black Keys

 Face Claim: (I seriously know no one that can be a face claim for Mael.)

STATS —

“They were hunting me before… Now it was my turn. I start to learn their routines. Their names. What they like and what not. I would isolate them one of them, eat him or her. Made me feel so good. So, so good… You can’t even imagine… “ 

Gender:  Male

Race:  Hyur, midlander

Height:  5'3''

Weight:130 ponzes

Eyes:  Violet

Hair:  Cloud white

Skin:  Chocolate brown

Build:  Scrawny, frail, dexterous.

Scars:  One accross his nose ; he broke it a few years ago and left a mark there.

Tattoos/Marks:  A black, tiny sigil inside his left wrist. To the uninitiated, this is simply a tattoo. To anyone familiar with Arcanima, it feels like Geometry Magick without being it. To someone knowing a great deal about sorcery and the Void… This is bad news.

(Mael's note : I wonder how many people are still here.)

At First Glance (+5)

Dressed in rags

Greasy hair

Horns (when not covered. If yes, wears a really stupid and big hat)

Boyish looks and frame

Aether feels icky around him

FACTS — 

“Oh, all this righteous, dis-gus-ting mercy! Forgive! Forget! Where will it be, when I will hand you Reia’s head? This will be our wedding gift!”

Occupation:  Homeless person, self-appointed guardian of Amdapor, once in a while a murderer.

Specialities:  Grilled fish, creeping people out, getting in sticky situations Skills:  Hunting, tracking, starting fire with only sticks and stones.

PROFICIENCY —

“That’s why I must save him. So he can see for himself what he means to me. He needs to stop throwing his life away. It’s not… It’s not a good thing to do.”

Education:  None

Favored Weapon(s): His hunting bow.

Secondary Weapon(s):  His natural claw. His fangs when he's really desperate.

Magic Abilities:  Seems to have some but they are neither developed or trained.

Magic Strengths:  ???

(Mael's note : If you see this, send me a PM saying ass.)

RELATIONS —

 “S-She liked me. She didn’t care what I looked like or what other people were saying about me. I liked her too. I liked her like I like you. I don’t know if I will kill you too.” (A silence.) “Do you want to know the absolute worst? I enjoyed it.”

Sexual Preference:  Bisexual

Romantic Identification:  Monogamous

Relationship Status:  It's complicated (and not the fun kind of it's complicated.)

Sweet on:  Miahtoux Daphenier 

 Alignment:  True Neutral

Allies:  Miahtoux, Reia, Zaz (???)

Enemies:  The Lord of the Nameless, Wood Wailers (or any authority body really), Voidhunters, bounty hunters, law-abiding citizens in general.

FAMILY —

“If the service is bad, let’s poison them all ♪” 

Maternal: Stella Chamberlain

Patrental:  Unknown 

 Mentor:  Zaz, The Lord of the Nameless (maybe). 

 Associates: None

MENTALITY —

“I will break you. Break you, break you, break you. I’m the villain and you will be my mask of atrocities.”

Social Level: Extremely poor, very nervous and anxious around strangers. Stutters and rambles a lot. Can't finish a sentence for the life of his.

 Optimistic View(s): If it can go bad, it will. 

 Pessimistic View(s):  See above. 

 One  Positive Personality Trait:  Open-minded.

 One Negative Personality Trait: Whiny.

 One Personality Warning:  Mental instability. You never know when he will take out his hunting knife to plunge it into your right eye and then proceed to stab reperatively. 

 Random Quirk:  ^ This count as a quick too. “Quirk” 

Hobbies:  Long walk in the forests, fishing, ruins exploration. 

 Addictions: Aether, Miahtoux's affection. Habits:  Lips chewing, crossing arms on chest, hair twisting, sighing.

 Pleasures:  Horn petting, listening to rain, sleeping all morning, eating, sunsets.(Mael's note : If you made it this far, send me your favorite platypus gif pls.)

Appreciates (List 5+)

Hand holding

A real bed to sleep on

The smile of a true friend

Hot tea

Blood

Dislikes (List 5+)

Pain

Cold/Snow/Winter in general

Unwanted touches

Potions

People that are too nice right away

Strengths (List 5+)

Physical strenght as in he can break your ribs.

Once his loyalty is acquired, it will last for a life time and over.

He's simple and don't like complicated things.

He can more or less detect something/someone alive with his Aether-sensing throught his horns.

He understands and speak the language of the Void.

Weaknesses (List 5+)

Vengeful and keeps grudges. Absolutely revels in the payback.

Emotionally immature, can't act like an adult half the time. Other half he is busy being petty and whiny.

The voices inside his head.

Aloof and reserved.

Have difficulty at time knowing what is real and what is not.

Fears (List 5+)

Fire (forest fire)

Garleans

Being abandonned

The one he loves the most die (bonus point if it's his fault and could be avoided.)

Social events

New people and meeting them

FAVORITES –– 

“You’re still my friend even if you don’t like me.”

Favorite Food(s):  Raw meat, raw fish.

Favorite Drink(s):  Water without giant moth that haven’t poop in it.

Favorite Scent(s):  Petrichor.

Favorite Colors:  Green, yellow, blue.

(Mael's note : This this goddamn list never ends? Meme the most putrid, least fresh meme you can ever find if you ever read this.)

TRIVIA -

He can swim pretty well.

Most monsters don't bother him as long Mael don't go out of his way to make them angry. They probably recognised the scent of the Void and darkness and leave him in peace.

Animals, on the other hand, absolutely hate him. He can't ride a chocobo or can't approach a tamed wolf pup or coeurl kitten. He will get kicked, bark at and bittten.

OOC -

Server:  Mateus

Timezone:  EST

Mun:  What am i supposed to put in there.

Experience:  I did some stuff.

Type of RP:  Horror, long-term, mystery, mindfuck, deep themes, taboos, comedy.

Looking for:  Depends for which characters you're asking for but mostly friends, contacts, family. Maybe a lover.

 Tagged by: @captainkurosolaire (henlo)

Tagging: @zandriaxchase @kotoko-rin @fletchlingfletcher @nebula1984

@celestinhibou @divine-ruin @whistleinthenight @bells-and-whistles-ffxiv @chidorifarcloud @laurenlovecraft-ffxiv @amdapori

[ask-informant-belarus]

Announcement

Mun here, this time it’s not a quick thing.

So yesterday I asked if ya’ll would like to see me stream in Picarto, and some of you said yes!  Don’t worry, I’ll still stream. I couldn’t do it yesterday ‘cause I collapsed (I’m fine now, it happens from time to time) and the day went by with no stream. I’m probably going to stream today tho.

But the main thing I wanted to talk about is way longer, so if you have a bit of time, then please keep reading. It’s an explanation as to why I might dissappear from the blog suddenly for some days, though it’s not certain and I hope it doesn’t happen.

Ok so first off, don’t worry. It doesn’t affect me personally (at least I hope it doesn’t) and by that I mean it has nothing to do with my personal life. That out of the way, let me tell you about the actual issue.

So some of you (if not all) may know I live in Perú.  Y’know, that Latinamerican country with Machu Picchu in it, the llamas, the alpacas, the good food, where the Incas come from, etc.

I live in Lima, Perú’s capital and largest city. Lima is located in the central coastal part of the country with access to the Pacific Ocean. It’s also located in the valleys of three rivers: Chillón, Rímac, and Lurín. But Lima is a desert, meaning rain is not a thing here, and no one sells umbrellas and all that stuff. Almost no houses have gable roofs (and if they do, it’s only for decoration), so no one is prepared for heavy rains. Which are happening now.

You see, Perú used to have winds that moved along the coast and carried the storm clouds away, cooling down the ocean and all that stuff (I’m not an expert, so forgive me if this is wrong). But the winds have stopped, and now the ocean is warmer. The warm water evaporates and advances in-land to the mountain range (also where Machu Picchu is, for a better perspective) and then it falls down in rain. The problem is, that now it’s raining more than ever in areas where it wasn’t supposed to rain that much.

Let me give you an example: Perú is divided into regions. One of the north regions is called Lambayeque, and there’s a city in Lambayeque called Chiclayo. In Chiclayo, there’s 40 liters of rain per square meter yearly. No more than a week ago, that same amount of water rained in a single night.

This absurd amount of rain we’re having all across the country has made the goverment declare us in emergency state. Last night, the news lady didn’t welcome us with a “good night, everyone” because there was just no good news at all, and they even started earlier and ended later ‘cause there was too much to cover.

And because of the heavy rains, many places are flodding. Houses have water to the knees, roads are covered or partially destroyed. And also because of the rains, there’s an even bigger issue happening.

Huaycos. Huaycos are in Perú what in the snowy mountains are avalaches, it’s just that huaycos are avalanches of mud and dirt and threes and anything an overflowed river can drag along until it reaches the sea. Last night news had videos the local people sent in which they were trying to get pigs out of the brown river. There was also a lady trapped in there, along with three cows. The river even dragged a cargo container.

Tons of roads have been closed because the huaycos and rivers are coming down so strongly they can (and have already) drag busses and trucks along.

I’m really lucky and grateful I live in the middle of two really separated rivers, so none of this is happening to me. But due to all the caos, the goverment has even cancelled classes until monday. They’re also cutting the water distribuition to 27 districts (which thankfully doesn’t include mine). Thunderstorms are taking place in areas they aren’t supposed to affect. So it’s possible they might also cut us the light. To everyone in Lima.

And that can happen any moment now. I just wanted to warn about this. I might dissappear suddenly. I hope we don’t get to the point were they cut the light, but who knows. Watching news every night has become pretty much like watching an end of the world movie. I’m really worried.

Thanks for taking your time to read this whole thing.  It turned out longer than what I expected. I could put photos and videos or gifs about the situation, but I just thought it’d make this even longer. But if any of you want me to keep you guys up with what’s going on in Perú, I’d be glad to.

[jawblade-a-blog]

REALLY  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY.   RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  ! good  luck  !   TAGGED.  by myself   TAGGING.  all y’all lovely people GIMME YOUR IN DEPTH CHARACTER HEADCANONS

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :   Takashi Shirogane ( 白銀隆 ) NICKNAME :   Shiro AGE :  25 BIRTHDAY :   October 21st ETHNIC  GROUP :  Japanese NATIONALITY :   Japanese-American LANGUAGE / S : English, Japanese, bits of Altean and Galran SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  asexual ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION :  aromantic RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :   single HOME  TOWN / AREA :  Yokohama, Kanagawa Prefecture, Honshu, Japan CURRENT  HOME :   Castle of Lions PROFESSION :  Black Paladin, leader of Team Voltron

PHYSICAL.

HAIR: deep black and cut short, the sides and back of his head shaved into an undercut. one long patch is left at the front, a forelock that hangs down over his forehead, reaching down just shy of his eyes. while this forelock used to be the same black as the rest of his hair, it’s now white, the colour lost under the severe stress he faced in Galra captivity. EYES :   a dark grey in colour, sometimes looking from a distance to be a deep brown or black. long eyelashes. FACE :  strong, sharp jawline, high cheekbones, long and straight nose, thick eyebrows. LIPS :   average, perhaps leaning on the thin side – often quite dry or cracked. COMPLEXION :  pale, but in a sickly, unnaturally caused kind of way, caused by complete lack of sunlight and possibly other events from his time in captivity. eyes often have dark circles beneath them. BLEMISHES :   none SCARS :  most notably, the lateral scar running across his nose, gained in a gladiator battle. the rest of his body is littered with scars, of all different varieties. large, jagged gashes, thin but deep lines, claw marks, sword slices, burns – just about anything you can think of. the placings are all very random, all clearly gained from battle, some overlapping. none of it is a pretty nor attractive sight, one of the many reasons he always has so much of his body covered. as well, there is a great deal of scarring on the bicep of his right arm, where skin meets the metal of his prosthetic. TATTOOS :  none HEIGHT :   6′2″ WEIGHT :   182 lbs. BUILD :   muscular and fit. chest and arms particularly toned, though his legs aren’t lacking in muscle mass. FEATURES :   Galran cybernetic prosthetic arm. ALLERGIES :   none, as far as he’s aware. USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  kind of just how he wakes up. the only hair he really has that can be styled is his forelock, which is generally left alone. USUAL  FACE  LOOK :   clean-shaven. USUAL  CLOTHING :   not a lot of clothing variety in the middle of space. outside of his armour and his usual outfit though, he’d stick to long sleeves. lots of sweaters or shirts with long sleeves. his style always used to be very casual and comfortable.

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :   loss of those he cares for. isolation. captivity. the possibility that he might not be a good person, that he’s every bit a monster that the Galra are with everything he’s done and is capable of doing. loss of control. panic attacks. flashbacks. ASPIRATION / S :   defeat Zarkon and free those who have been under his control or enslaved by him. keep the other paladins as innocent as he can/they should be at their ages. keep the other paladins alive and get them all home safely. find and save matt and commander holt. work with keith to develop and show him his capabilities. POSITIVE  TRAITS :   loyal | supportive | patient | reliable | practical | observant | compassionate NEGATIVE  TRAITS :   represses feelings | paranoid | pessimistic | solemn | on occasion can let emotion direct him to reckless action | self-sacrificing MBTI :   DEFENDER ( ISFJ-A ) ZODIAC :   libra TEMPEREMENT :   melancholic SOUL  TYPE / S :    leader, helper, caregiver ANIMALS :   sable VICE  HABIT / S :    jaw clenching, finger tapping, biting the inside of his lip/cheek FAITH :  none GHOSTS ? :   doesn’t believe AFTERLIFE ? :   doesn’t believe REINCARNATION ? :   doesn’t believe ALIENS ? :   i mean. he wishes they weren’t real sometimes. POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  vol…tron?? whatever being against zarkon is. EDUCATION  LEVEL :    high. graduated the Galaxy Garrison at the top of his class.

FAMILY.

FATHER :    doesn’t really remember or know much about him MOTHER :    deceased. SIBLINGS :   Keith Kogane, adopted brother EXTENDED  FAMILY :   n/a. NAME  MEANING / S :    隆 ( takashi ), meaning “noble, prosperous”;  白銀 ( shirogane ), meaning “silver” HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :   n/a.

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  a brief history of time by stephen hawking MOVIE :   n/a – he needs to pick a new one because all his old favourites are sci-fi and those are a lot less fun after you’ve lived it. 5  SONGS :  n/a ( forgive me, i’ve not settled on his favourite music yet ) DEITY :   n/a HOLIDAY :   new years MONTH :   september SEASON :   autumn PLACE :    his home – the one where he grew up and lived with his mom after moving from japan when he was very young. the home where he watched Keith grow up. WEATHER :   cool, but not cold. sunny, but with clouds in the sky and the chance of rain. SOUND :   wind blowing past leaves in the trees SCENT / S :    rain, freshly dried laundry, mom’s tonkatsu TASTE / S :    subtle flavours, most things fruity FEEL / S :   anything that isn’t metal. soft, anything that screams ‘comfort’ ANIMAL / S :    wolves NUMBER :  11 – his favourite time is 11:11 COLORS :   he’s been rethinking these, since a lot of his favourites now remind him of not so pleasant things these days.

EXTRA.

TALENTS :  leadership, knowing the right thing to say in most circumstances, combat – particularly hand to hand, picking up on and memorizing patterns, improvising, observation – particularly of people and their behaviours, ticks, etc. BAD  AT :  handling his own emotions, seeing his own value TURN  ONS :   n/a TURN  OFFS :   n/a HOBBIES :    exercising, sparring, reading, distracting himself from his thoughts and anxieties, avoiding sleep, spending time with those he cares about, cuddling TROPES :   Broken Ace, Awesome by Analysis, Team Dad, I Am a Monster, 100% Adoration Rating, Not So Above it All QUOTES :     “ If you get too worried about what could go wrong, you might miss a chance to do something great. ” “ Patience yields focus. ”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?           A1 :   uhhh i mean, since he’s a very main character, i get quite a bit of what i want from canon ngl. buuuut i’d love some full backstory of his life prior to kerberos, plus everything that happened while the galra had him prisoner. Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?           A2 :   oh god, idk. music with deep, heavy lyrics, but ultimately with optimistic messages? Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?           A3 :    okay so i’m a big red vs. blue fan, and i was seeing all kinds of people talking on tumblr about how shiro is so much like wash, who happens to be my favourite character and my biggest, oldest muse. finally caved and watch voltron, and… shiro ticks like, all of my boxes for a favourite character + character i can relate to on some levels. he’s complex, he’s broken, he struggles a lot internally but holds it together and helps others, he’s team dad, he’s self-sacrificing… i could go on, i really could. Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?           A4 :   oh. uhm. see the answer above. i heard he was v much like wash except more chill and much less jaded, and also who could escape hearing him referred to as ‘space dad’. i’m weak for space/team dads. Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.           A5 :   holy shit nothing. i love him and his strengths and his flaws. Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?           A6 :   mm… we both believe more in others than ourselves, both v supportive of those we care about… there may be more??? but those stick out to me the most. Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?           A7 :   “Please stop playing on my fears” basically Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?         A8 :    everyone??? i love getting to explore the older brother/dad dynamic he has with the rest of the paladins, and how it differs between the four. also love the dynamic between enemies, particularly those who put him on edge, or worse. Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 :    honestly i tend to wake up with inspiration bc he’s become my strongest muse, right up there with wash, buuuuut rewatching canon, having intense discussions about canon or AUs, and doing character analysis all give me an extra boost of inspiration, for sure. Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?           A10 :    like half the fucking day, holy shit. granted, my focus is shit and it’s not the only thing i’ve been doing. multitasking.