#ah yes the three aspects of god:
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and we be having weird relationships with god in this house tonight<3
#was listing to a cowboys prayer and thought a bit to much#do not advise#my drafts count has gone UP#ah yes the three aspects of god:#my fathers soil stained hands clearing the weeds around baby saplings with a care he never gave me#johnny cash's american recordings sung in hot metal boxes with sun seeping into my heart and bitter waters flooding out#and the blood under my fingernails from when i dug out what was inside of me so i could cast blame on it and not myself#thebirdspeaks
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OH MY GOD SPENCER GOING INTO WORK WITHOUT A WORRY IJ THE WORLD JUST AS USUAL AND EVERYONE IS STARING AND SNICKERING AND HES LIKE “what what what happened” and lil baby boy got treated so right he forgot you left hickeys all over his neck.
ahhh YES!! okay this will be very self-serving bc i am season 1 spencer's actual wife (sorry if that sounds conceited lmao)
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader (16+ for making out/suggestive themes)
Elle, Penny, and Morgan were always talking about their conquests, much to Hotch's chagrin. They learned to save the more risqué conversations for the bullpen when Hotch is cornered by Strauss and other higher ups.
Naturally, the conversation alway ended with playfully teasing Spencer for never having any stories about his conquests because he's knee deep in a Monday morning crossword puzzle while they talk about their late Friday nights.
Till one night, Spencer has a late night of his own. It was months in the making, Spencer still spent a lot of the time researching old cases and solving cold cases on his own in the archives department. It took him nearly three weeks to stop blushing every time he walked by your desk because you're either smiling up at him, eager to talk to him about the latest book you've both read or writing notes to slip into the stacks and stacks of paperwork from old cases he asks you to xerox.
Finally....finally. He builds up the courage to ask you out on a date. And of course it goes spectacularly. He's so charming, so perfectly handsome and sweet. It takes a couple dates for the physical aspect to meet up to the emotional aspect. But Spencer would go feral the first time you made out. You would sit yourself in his lap, loving the soft pressure of his hands on your waist.
He would be so whiny when you place your hands on his jaw, guiding him up for a kiss. Spencer would have the softest, most kissable lips that would turn so red and swollen from the slightest bit of kissing. He would be so eager, whimpering at every little touch you give him. It would boost your confidence to the max hearing him, seeing him get so flustered and eager.
Since Spencer needs some more time to adjust to the physical aspects of your relationship he would be thrilled just to mess around on the couch and then fall asleep in soft pjs wrapped up in blankets together.
Unfortunately for Spencer, he failed to realize that he didn't wear a shirt that covered the plethora of marks on his neck and collarbone. He shed his scarf, giving Derek and Elle a quizzical look when the wolfwhistle at him. He would roll his eyes, prepared for their sibling-like teasing.
"Well, well, well. Looks like the boy genius finally swiped that v-card." Elle teased, nodding Spencer's way and throwing Derek a teasing look.
"Finally, dude." Derek would say, walking over to clap Spencer on the back. "I hope you tipped her well."
Spencer would be fuming, unable to stop himself from turning red with embarrassment at Elle and Derek’s teasing. If he had a sliver of confidence he would describe in great detail exactly what happened last night, including how his girlfriend has the same marks under her turtleneck.
But Spencer isn’t a very confident man. Instead, he would have to let fate play out in his favor. Before Elle could get another quip out or Derek would snicker again, you came rushing in baked goods and coffee in tow.
“Spence! Ah,” you said, rushing towards Spencer’s desk ignoring his coworkers curious glances, “you rushed out before I made coffee. And breakfast” you placed the muffin, blueberry and lemon and the travel mug of steaming black coffee on his desk with a smile.
“Thanks,” Spencer said, bashfully looking around at Derek and Elle’s surprised faces. You kissed his cheek, the red sting of embarrassment burning into his cheeks.
“You’re going to need that coffee. We were going at it all night.”
Spencer’s eyebrow raised with worry as he saw Elle and Derek swap curious glances. Fear flooded your face, eyes full of embarrassment and regret as Spencer’s eyes melt into an unfamiliar confidence.
He placed his hand against your hip, pulling you in close for a quick, chaste kiss. He smiled too much, the kind of smile that threatens to make his muscles ache.
“Morgan, Elle, I want you to meet, Y/N. She’s the department librarian. And my girlfriend,”
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff
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Isekai
The story this world was created for didn’t pan out, but I still love it. So I sent a visitor from our world to this one, who is not delighted to find that instead of a clear conflict between good and evil, she is confronted with something very different.
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The priest led the way into the great hall. “It is strange to me,” he said chattily, “that you do not know the gods. Surely there is no place so far that the gods do not hold sway there.”
The stranger cleared her throat. “I do not… know that I do not,” she said carefully. “By other names, or seemings, perhaps… but I would know them as you know them.”
“Ah, I see. Yes, that I can understand.” The priest smiled. With his long grey hair and beard flowing over a white robe, he looked like a small, spare saint himself, genial and contented. “Then I will tell it to you from the beginning.” He walked up the length of the hall, and gestured to the two statues that stood on either side of the great altar, with the gold-leaf sun and hammered silver moon on the wall above it.
“There are eight gods,” he said, and his voice settled into the cadence of one repeating an old teaching. “And no one of the eight stands alone, but always as one of a pair. First among the gods stand Elu and Surm, whose aspects are those of Life and Death. There are those who say that they are the parents of the other gods, and others who say that they are only the oldest, but all that the others are springs ultimately from them.”
“I see.” The stranger looked up at the statue on the left, who stood by the golden sun. “Elu… life… is perhaps the one I know as the Mother.”
“Yes, for all life comes from a mother.” The priest nodded, also gazing up at the statue. It was beautifully crafted, perhaps twice as tall as the stranger, a vivid portrayal of a woman of middle years, with the rounded belly and hips of children borne, the plump limbs of health and plenty, lines of wisdom and of humour on her face. She wore a loose robe, and a crown of leaves and flowers on her long hair, and fruit and grain filled the basket in her hands. “Elu brings life, and all that lives, from the greatest beast to the smallest, from the richest fruit to the smallest seed, from humankind to a flower that blooms and dies in a single day.”
He turned to the other statue, Surm. This was a man, also of middle years, but he wore armour, and carried a bow in his hand. “And Surm, her opposite and equal, who closes the circle. Where there is life, there must also be death, and Surm rules over all forms of death. He is a warrior, and a hunter, and also a healer, as is Elu, for the healer stands between life and death. Surm is the ending, as Elu is the beginning, but in truth they are the two halves of a circle, for from death life comes again, and from life death is born.” He gestured up at the sun and moon. “Elu is the first of what we name the sunward four, and Surm of the moonward, for the sun and the moon, like the gods, are a pair, opposite and yet united.”
“I see. Who comes next?”
“Of the other three pairs, the order in which they stand varies. They are all of equal status and importance, as gods, but in different times and places some may take a greater hand than others.” The priest moved back a few paces. “Here, the second pair are those we call Kord, the sunward, who represents order and creation, and Kaos, the moonward, who represents chaos and destruction.”
The stranger looked from Kord, a statue of a man holding a chisel and a measuring rod, his robes perfect, his braids as straight as the rod, to Kaos, a woman all disorder, from her wild curls to her ragged motley to her very pose – while Kord stood erect, Kaos was dancing, one foot raised, ribbons flying about her. “Good and evil?” the stranger asked, frowning.
“No, order and chaos.” The priest frowned too. “All the gods have their aspects of both good and evil, of course. Elu creates life, and she is the mother of the devouring wolf or bear just as she is of the lamb or the kid. Surm brings death on the battlefield, but also peace after long life and ease after suffering. Kord is the god of order, of precision, of law and of rule, of measurement and of numbers. But Kord is a sterile god, and life does not thrive under his governance.” He turned to wild, laughing Kaos. “Kaos reigns over destruction, it is true, but not all forms of disorder are destructive. She is the song of the bird and the frisking of a foal as well as the destruction of the earthquake or the tidal wave, and she rules over weather both good and bad. She also rules the human heart, its loves and hates, and she brings both joy and sorrow.”
“I see.” The stranger did not sound as if she saw, but she looked thoughtfully at Kord and Kaos before they moved on to the next pair.
“On the sunward side, Sugulahna, the neighbour, the kinswoman, the ally, the friend, the loyal one.” This statue was young and vigorous, with a cheerful smile. She wore a simple tunic, and held out an open hand. “Sugulahna is the goddess of unity, of trust, of loyalty. When she stands with her brother Kord, they watch over cities and towns, and places where many people must live together in order and harmony. With Kaos, she signifies love and friendship, the ties of family and the bonds of loyalty. In her benign aspect, she is generosity and faith. But turned aside, she is the selfish partner, the treacherous lover, the ungrateful child, the usurper and betrayer. She is all that is best and worst in those around us.”
“One who can give great pain and great joy,” the stranger commented.
“None can give greater.” The priest nodded solemnly. “And on the moonward side stands Vu’uras, who is often called ‘the Stranger’.” The statue could hardly be called a statue, exactly, for no face or clear form could be discerned under the enveloping robes that might as easily have covered a clothing-stand as a human figure. The only sign of the body underneath was a single slender hand extending from a sleeve to clasp a traveller’s staff. “The Stranger is the Other, the traveller, the foreigner. The Stranger, when standing with Kord, is the diplomat, the envoy, the spy. With Kaos, the chance-met helper or kindly passer-by… or the bandit. The Stranger is sexless and unknowable, and yet the Stranger delights in the sharing of knowledge.”
The stranger smiled slightly. “Like me. A stranger chance-come, who knows nothing but wishes to learn?”
“Indeed, just like.” The priest moved on to the last pair of statues. “Here you see, on the sunward side, Teadmised, who is the god of knowledge and learning. Teachers, scholars, and the wise are all in his domain, and he is said to have created all means of record-keeping, from wall paintings and lore songs and tally marks to the written word.” He beamed up at the statue. Like the priest, Teadmised was an old man, long-bearded and a little stooped, with a lean, kindly face. He was wrapped in a long robe with a stole, and carried in his hands a scroll and a brush. “Teadmised is the god of wisdom. His benign aspect brings invention, and art, and joy, but his reverse is deception, and error, and lies.”
He turned to gesture at the moonward goddess. “This is his sister Salahdused, who rules over mystery, and secrets, and the unknown. Vu’uras and Surm’s realms both overlap with hers, for death and the stranger both partake of the unknown. Salahdused is the hardest of all the gods to understand, by her very nature, and thus is most often the one distrusted, or considered ‘evil’ as you put it.” He patted the base of the statue. It portrayed another hooded figure, but unlike the Stranger’s, this hood did not conceal a slyly smiling face, and the sleeves of the robe fell back to show slender arms, one hand raising a lighted lamp, the other cradling a wrapped bundle against her hip. “Certainly the unknown can be dangerous, and secrets can wound. Her domain is darkness and the sea, hidden caves and deep water and secret places, all dangerous to humankind. And yet she is also the goddess of luck, which is its own kind of mystery. She can bring ruin and betrayal and death, but she is also the unknown friend, good fortune unlooked for, and aid when all hope is lost.” His voice softened. “It is Salahdused who brings misfortune, and hope, and to whom we all turn at last, with curse or with plea. And when her father Surm comes, to guide the dead onward, it is Salahdused who holds up the lamp to light the way.”
“A goddess we all need, though we may not always be grateful.” The stranger looked up and down the lines again. “They are *all* the known and the unknown, are they not? On the sunward side, in the light of day, stand Life, Order, Family and Knowledge. On the moonward side, Death, Chaos, the Stranger, and Mystery.”
“Yes, exactly!” The priest sounded pleased. “Not many people see that, without being told. That is why they are ordered so. Some people think it is because the sunward are kindlier, but it is not so. It is only that they stand for what we understand. And under the moon, which waxes and wanes, stand the gods who rule over the unpredictable and unknown.”
“Most people… where I come from… equate light with good, and darkness with evil.” The stranger tugged absently on her braid. “But your gods are… more complicated than that.”
“Good and evil are not real things,” the priest said simply. The stranger looked at him, and he smiled gently. “I do not mean that they do not exist, but they are not… of the world. Birth, life, is real. Death is real. They exist, they have substance. A measuring rod or the wildly rolling debris of an avalanche are real. Family is real. Strangers are real. A story or a written word are real things, as are the sea and caves and deep water, be they understood or not. And all of those things may bring about good or evil, depending on circumstances. They can be used for good or evil. But good and evil are not, in themselves, real things.”
She nodded slowly, looking at the gods. “So to you… good and evil are in the effects. The aspects. The intent. Not… powers, in themselves.”
“Yes, you understand.” The Priest bent to pick up a dead leaf from the ground, which might have fallen from a shawl, or blown in through one of the high windows. “Take this leaf. If it fell on a stony street, it might grow wet, and slip under a foot, and cause injury or death. If it fell on barren ground, in its decay it would render the ground a little less barren. Here on the floor of the temple, it might cause additional trouble to a sweeper… or provide a priest with a timely example, thus doing me, and you, good.” He smiled. “But the leaf’s nature does not change. It is just a leaf. How, in its falling, it affects others… that depends entirely on circumstance.”
“I see.” This time, she sounded as if she did understand, and she took the leaf and held it gently. “And what of people, priest? Are they not good or evil?”
“Of course they are. Mostly one, or mostly the other, or more often a mixture of both in some degree.” The priest shrugged. “But that a matter of choice, and of intention, and even then it is very rare that an action does not have effects both good and bad, whatever the intention. To come upon a man robbing another man, and to intervene – well, from the point of view of the man who was being robbed, that is a good action. From the point of view of the robber, it is a bad one.” He smiled serenely. “As the proverb says, the storm that sinks a ship may bring rain to the fields.”
The stranger was silent for a time, seeming to consider, and the priest waited patiently. When at last she spoke, there was a note of frustration in her voice. “I have never known a faith, or gods, so adamantly to set their faces against certainty.”
The priest laughed. “Oh, if it is certainty you want, Kord is in accord with you. He loves certainty. One will always be one, and a square will always be a square. An arch correctly made will not fall, and a law followed will bring order. There’s great comfort in certainty! But certainty is the enemy of growth, and invention, and change, and so Kaos dances through Kord’s order, bringing destruction and growth and change.” He folded his hands over his belly and looked up at the sun and moon on the wall, his voice gentling. “I think that what you are seeking is not certainty but simplicity. An easy answer. The good and the evil. But what is real is never simple, and the gods least of all. All we mere mortals can do is the best we can, with what we have.”
The stranger sighed. “I know that you are right,” she said. “But the other would be easier.”
“It is not the responsibility of the gods to make your life easy,” the priest said, a little tartly. “It is the responsibility of the gods to make life possible. The rest is your own affair.”
#short story#original fiction#isekai#good and evil are not real#and have no gods#there is only the good and bad sides of those things that exist
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Aftercare with the anemo boys shwjendh TT
My sibling in Christ, yES HDIDUKEJ!!!
Apologies for Heizou and Xiao’s part’s being short! God decided to send a vibe check this morning and gave me a heart attack so I finished writing this from hospital while super tired >_>
Warnings: fluff, pretty suggestive (especially in Heizou’s), established relationship, swearing, gn!reader, not proof-read.
Characters: venti, kazuha, wanderer, heizou, xiao.
Venti~
He would be so smug and caring at the same time wtf?
Be prepared for a lot of teasing.
Definitely actives his archonic-ego
If you find it hard to stand or walk, he’d absolutely carry you bridal style!
Though good luck getting him out of bed to begin with-
Dudes gonna be clinging to you like a imprinted koala!
Lots of nuzzling and kisses!
After ya’ll did the do, he’d make sure to check you over at least three times to make sure you’re ok~
And I mean thoroughly check you over.
He’d bring you water and sliced apples along with a nice cool cloth for your head!
He absolutely gets a little worried that he’s too rough!
He does his best to make sure he doesn’t go too far but he is still an archon that has levelled mountains T-T
Kisses every mark he made on you with such gentleness istg-
Refuses to break eye contact jdudikedj
Once he’s made sure that you’re ok then teasing.exe is activated.
Brace yourself with this man.
“So, love. How does it feel to be worshiped by a god?”
“You did so well, Windblume. Now relax and let this archon take care of his most precious beloved~”
He’d absolutely lay your head on his chest while playing with your hair!
He’d also him you to sleep with songs he made just for you~
Goes through a whole list of reasons why he thinks you’re perfect.
Once he see’s that your asleep, he’ll have the softest smile while he takes in your peaceful expression~
He’s so in love with you and even if you can’t hear him, he’ll still make sure to tell you that every chance he gets~
Kazuha~
Slams fists on table.
HE. ADORES. YOU!!!!!!!!!!!
Praises, lot’s of praises-
Pretty praises from pretty boy.
He’s always extremely gentle with you and rarely leaves any marks unless you ask him to T-T
If he does then he’ll lay there while gently tracing them with his fingers while telling you how pretty the colour is against your skin~
You think you’re going to walk anywhere after?
You buffoon.
You will not be allowed out of bed until he’s certain that you’ve completely recovered!
He always makes sure to ask if you’re ok!
Makes you triple promise that he didn’t hurt you by accident.
He’s very big on trust so he would never want you to hide it if he did go a little too rough!
He’ll bring you fruits and nuts (giggle) to help build your energy back up along with the freshest water he can find hduxuxudu.
This man will wrap you up in his arms while staring at you for ages just taking in how perfect you look!
If you hate eye contact then please pull this man out of his trance or he won’t stop sdukkdjd.
“Ah, my apologies, was I staring? I couldn’t help myself, dove. Not when your eyes glisten as brightly as the stars in the night sky~”
He’ll give off the cutest little giggles when you say something that flusters him istg.
Then somehow pulls the most flirtatious and smooth line you’ve ever heard in your life and then acts surprised when you get flustered???
He has and will continue to make countless poems and haikus about how you make him feel.
He has a special “private” book of poems for very specific aspects of you that he loves-
Always makes sure you fall asleep with a forehead and nose kiss.
He’s made it like a cute lil’ ritual T-T
Also random but he’ll often recite poems in his own language to you!
Even if you don’t understand him, he still feels like it’s even more intimate to show you that side of him hhzhsus.
Wanderer~
Inhales-
My precious little goose.
My pretty, beautiful, perfect little goose.
God I need to write a ns!fw fic on this man. I need him to slam me against a wall ysuxudijd
If you got this man in this position then holy fuck, you absolute god.
Don’t expect him to be openly fluffy with you.
He’s going to get flustered and then mad because he’s flustered.
He’ll show you love in his own strange little ways!
He personally checks you over and cleans you up.
Does he insult you while doing so?
Maybe.
But in a loving way :)
“Look, idiot. It’s my job to make sure you’re alright. Don’t argue with me on this or I won’t do it again.”
He’s lying. He will.
Similar to kazuha, he knows nutrition.
He’ll bring you high energy foods along with juice or water!
You will have marks.
Lots of them.
But don’t worry, he’ll make sure to kiss every single one better!
Boy acts all tough but it’s very obvious that he adores you.
He won’t let you out of bed for at least a day.
He also refuses to let you out if his sight since he knows full well you’re going to be stubborn and get up.
There’s always a moment before you fall asleep where he’ll be completely soft with you!
He despises it but he also can’t help but love it at the same time.
He’ll tell you how well you did and how happy you make him feel.
He always insists on being big spoon so he can cuddle you up as close as possible and nuzzle his face into your neck while leaving lil’ kisses T-T
“You’re such a idiot, but… you’re my idiot, ok? Don’t you dare forget that!”
It’s a rare sight but it’s his way of reassuring himself that you’re still there and won’t leave him.
Since he doesn’t need sleep, he usually just lays next to you while you dream away happily and just admire you.
He feels comfortable enough to let his guard down when he knows you can’t see him so he’ll always have this adorable little smile on his face when he whispers a flustered “I love you” making sure not to wake you up.
Heizou~
AAAAAAAAAA!?
This little shits gonna be riding his ego all the way to Celestia and back.
Similarly to venti, he’s gonna be super flirty and tease you persistently.
Also like wanderer, you’ll have marks-
Man is kinky-
He’d always insist on getting you water before wrapping his arms around you under the blankets and just stays there for like 30 minutes.
“Oh hush now, you think I’m going to leave you alone in a cold bed? Man alive, partner. Do I have to prove my feelings for you again, hmm~?”
Praises you so much!
Whispers how hot you are and how wonderful you make him feel owo.
What’s that? You think you see him blushing?
Pffft totally not? It’s just the saké m’hm yep totally.
I head-canon that he’s super amazing at making milkshakes so he totally makes you one to “cool you down”
He just looks like a milkshake kinda dude, shut up >:(
Reads you crime novels while you’re all snuggled up T-T
He’ll also sing to you!! You can not tell me that he’s not a good singer istg-
Lots of ear nibbles and neck smooches uwu
I don’t think he actually has much or if any experience with aftercare but he’s definitely a natural at it somehow????
Do not mention it to anyone though, he’ll turn it right round on you and you’ll end up losing what dignity you have left jfgcudu
Also he’ll usually get so into praising you and telling you how good you are that round two is pretty much inevitable aAAA
All in all- he’s a little brat. but a brat that loves you beyond comprehension! uwu
Xiao~
HE DON’T KNOW
:(((
You’ll have to teach him what it is.
It’s not his fault!!!! He never did this stuff before he met you :(
Though saying that. He’s naturally very protective of you and would be mortified if he hurt you in any way what so ever-
So he catches on pretty fast! It’s basically second nature to him even though his process is a little awkward sometimes.
He’ll always make sure to tuck you into bed and even if he can’t stay all night because of his duties as a Yaksha he’ll still make sure to leave you with a small note saying that he’ll return soon and that he love’s you, along with a Qingxin!!
Not to mention the softest and prettiest kiss you’ll ever receive.
He’ll sometimes get a lil’ too serious when checking you over and he can get very stern with how you rest up and drink water!
He doesn’t mean to sound bossy! He doesn’t understand how mortals work so he’s using what knowledge he has on human bodies gdjfixiudi.
Pretty boi will always be flustered afterwards so he’ll hide his face away into your chest or your neck while caressing your knuckles or back~
He’s definitely not much of a talker so often times it’ll just be the two of you cuddling up together while he just silently plays with your hair.
Sometimes, if he’s feeling super confident he’ll whisper soft praises to you along with how lucky he is T-T
“I… I really don’t deserve you, but I hope you know that there isn’t a force strong enough to stop these feelings towards you my love”
Brings you food that’s been personally cooked up by the chief at wangshu inn along with juice or water!
He doesn’t understand why you’d need those things but he still obliges albeit a little hesitantly.
Reward him with kisses and encouragement!
He really wants to do his best to pamper you but he just needs a lil’ practice that’s all T-T
Also he’s such a bad liar so please be prepared for a very amused Zhongli when he asks why Xiao’s been acting a little…differently today-
Dude I decided to pull on genshin with some premos I got from the daily award thing and I got my boy Tighnari. I’m as broke for mora as Zhongli’s voluptuous ass cheeks with building kazuha and heizou now I have a sassy furry to tend to as well T-T
I can’t believe I missed the new 3.8 trailer but I’ve heard that wanderer, my stinky little baby boy Snooki-pookie-wookums will be running a banner aaAAAAAAAA time to save up and farm for artifacts again :))))))
#genshin impact#genshin imagines#genshin boyfriend scenarios#genshin impact scenarios#genshin scenarios#genshin fluff#genshin headcanons#genshin impact fluff#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact venti#genshin impact kazuha#genshin impact wanderer#heizou genshin impact#genshin impact xiao#venti#kazuha#wanderer#heizou#xiao#venti headcanons#kazuha headcanons#wanderer headcanons#heizou headcanons#xiao headcanons#venti scenarios#kazuha scenarios#wanderer scenarios#heizou scenarios#xiao scenarios#genshin drabbles
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building on this headcanon as posted here because i have spent so long rotating it in my head despite not having a plot to house it:
uhura is Not Into It at first but they eventually sway her into semi-regular attendance with the promise of overblown camp + comedy. i feel like she'd also be obsessed with pontypool due to the language aspects
hemmer doesn't like the violence but he'll discuss soundtracks and their efficacy ad infinitum in the mess hall
every halloween they try to binge the halloween franchise only to get two movies in and give up. they're obsessed with the franchise's refusal to respect its own canon though and talk so much about it that uhura assumes they've seen all the films at least five times
they keep a running spreadsheet of everything they've watched complete with stats and commentary. there's an entire column labeled "does the horse die?" if the answer is yes, they can't show it to captain pike
probably no one on that ship is normal about theo crain, but chapel and ortegas least of all
i have not decided what ortegas's favorite subgenre is but chapel's is one hundred and thirty-three percent the most Terrifying body horror. the fly (1986) is the one that got her into horror films
i can and will do so much with the alien franchise, but the fic i probably won't write yet think about so often is chapel + uhura post-1x09 curled up in uhura's bunk sharing a deeply platonic sort of grief while that first one plays
una chin-riley shockingly into horror films. no i will not elaborate.
speaking of una, i will never be over the chaos potential of in-universe explanations for satanic panic (2019)
spock has been banned from attending movie night because he talks too much and not in the fun kind of way, but he watches the films intently on his own time and then meets with them both to discuss
m'benga does not get it. at least once a year they make him sit through something they promise he'll like and he never comes out unscathed
pelia: "horror films? ah yes, what a delightful genre. have you see when a stranger calls? some of my best work" [cue shipwide uproar for the next three weeks]
films christine chapel cannot be normal about: lisa frankenstein, american mary, jennifer's body, return to oz
films erica ortegas cannot be normal about: the scream franchise, probably. and not just because of sidney's tank + boxers combo in the second one
[watching scream 5] ortegas: "why does that dude look so familiar?" chapel, 15 minutes later: "oh my god. it's boimler"
they've got a prepared speech about the superiority of practical effects and a special interest in replicating the grosser ones. captain pike finally asks sam kirk to cordon off a section of the science lab for them so they can stop causing shipwide alerts
that time they made una sit through So Many nightmare on elm streets despite the declining quality only for her to turn to them in the middle of dream master and roast them to a crisp by asking if it was going to get better or if their perception had been so skewed by their love of suit-up montages set to 80s dad rock that their judgment couldn't be trusted anymore
they do eventually win her back with new nightmare, tho
#strange new worlds#snw blogging#cutting myself off NOW because i could go on for a thousand words#if you noticed a conspicuous lack of la'an in this post it's because i'm writing a fic about it and have to keep it on lock#to ensure my brain stays interested
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crimson
Inspiration: autumn comes when you're not yet done by tieressian
Word count: 11.8k
Warnings: smut, reader's in some twisted sugar daddy relationship with the committee, death, murder
Summary: In the end, both of you are human, even if he resembles a god
The first time you meet Hinata, he has a bruise on his cheek and scratches all over.
"Hinata-senpai!" You gasp, tossing your clipboard onto the table and rushing over to him. "Stay still!"
"Wait-"
"I don't want to hear the story right now! You need to be patched up!" You rush behind him for a medical kit, and he watches you, eyes wide with surprise.
It's a horrifying idea, really. Being handed a clipboard and then told to take care of a student on your first day at Hope's peak. Something about the Hope Cultivation Plan. You're surprised to meet eye to eye with two boys who look no older than you. No, both of them were one year your senior. You weren't even supposed to be in the class under them. You had just been called in to deal with the psychology aspect of the entire project after accepting to be a student in the following year.
Your hands are gentle against his skin. Your movements are practiced, and you patch him up quickly. Matsuda walks in on the sight of you applying antiseptic onto his cheek. You press the patch to his skin, and you sigh as you finish. You're the new one on the project; the psychologist brought in after the neurologist requested a psychologist aide.
"Story." You pout at him. "Please. I barely met you, and here you are, bruised all over. Don't you know that this project requires the best body out there? Argh."
Hinata laughs awkwardly, but he spills the story. You learn quite a bit about him from the story. People aren't careful with their words. Hinata ends up spilling much more than he intended to you, and he mentions that he doesn't want to be normal; in fear of being not enough. He talks about the murder of his classmates, and how the ultimate got involved. He talks about wanting to talk to a student but being forced out of the main building. You suppose it's to be expected.
"So..." You stare at the background papers they finally gave you. "You don't want to get kicked out because you can't pay the fees? Isn't being talentless a gift?"
Hinata's eyes widen at your words.
"Oi-" Matsuda frowns. "Newbie."
"Just hear me out," You flip through the paper. "We ultimate are tied to our talents for the rest of our lives. I'm stuck treating patients until there's nothing left for me to do. One day, I'll look out the window and pray I wake up without talent the next morning. Treating people who are worse than me is going to take a toll on me."
Hinata looks to the side in distaste. "That's just because you have a talent."
"Hinata-senpai," You mumble sadly. "We all want something we can't have. You and I aren't different."
Hinata stares to the side, avoiding your gaze in anger. "Ah, who are you again?"
You hum. "I'm the ultimate psychologist, Y/n L/n. Feel free to call me Y/n. How are you feeling today? Other than the story about the bruise"
Matsuda, who you later on learned was the neurologist, sits through the entire session with you. He makes no move to interfere when Hinata gets excited, and you think your session bores him a little bit. But you suppose the higher-ups wanted him to keep an eye out on the new one. You don't blame them. You suppose that makes the chase more fun.
"Hinata-senpai, any discomfort?" You stare at the notes about his background.
"No," He shakes his head. "Ah, it feels weird being called senpai by a doctor taking care of me. You can call me Hinata," He nods slowly, no sign of a smile on his face.
"Subject... I333K." You hum. "Yes. So have you signed the waiver?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I was told you'd provide it."
"Matsuda-san?"
"Here," He hands the paper to the boy, and he stares at it. "Your parents signed it three hours ago. The ultimate psychologist wanted to meet with you before you signed it. Is everything normal?"
"To be expected." You shrug. "He's got a perfect brain from the other tests we ran on him earlier. He's perfectly average in every way. It's interesting, actually. If he wants to, we can progress early."
Hinata watches the two of you discuss his brain.
"All of his nerve cells have an excellent connection," Matsuda points at the highlighted regions of his brain. "It's like a textbook model."
"That's good." You hum. "Perfect to work with, right?"
"Yes," He nods.
"Do you mind asking the questions?" You mumble. "He appears to be doing well, but I need you to ask the questions and for me to observe another time. I need catch any microexpressions."
"What are you? Paul Eckman?" Matsuda scoffs. "Why do you need to read his microexpressions?"
"Because if I don't, then something is going to happen. I'm responsible for the patient," You shrug. "You know that, doctor."
Matsuda asks the questions, and you note down any expressions that flash across his face. Your face remains neutral the whole time, yet Hinata can tell that you're a cheerful person from your face alone. Your resting face has your lips tugged upward into a gentle smile. Your notes are messy scribbles, yet you write with a gel pen. You don't seem very professional if anything.
"And finally, any medical history we should know about?"
"Nothing," Hinata rubs the back of his neck.
"Uh oh," You pout. "You're lying! Now, what was it? A broken bone? Undiagnosed schizophrenia? Or even worse, munchausen syndrome by proxy?"
"No!" He raises a brow. "It's just... I've broken an arm before."
"No medication as of right now?"
"None." Hinata nods.
"Got it," He hums. "Anything else?"
"Ah," You kick Matsuda's revolving chair out of the way. "Have you ever medically diagnosed with an anxiety disorder or mood disorder?"
"No?" Hinata looks concerned.
You note that down, and you grin. "Onto more personal matters. Your grades as of right now."
"Straight Cs."
"Average student," You scribble onto the paper. "Number of friends?"
"They're both dead."
You pause and blink. "Right. No other friends, though?"
"One, from the main course."
"Alright," You tap the end of your pen against the clipboard, and Matsuda gets up from his fallen chair. He takes note of the way Hinata's knuckles are white while you read through the rest of the questions. Hinata wants a talent desperately. The feeling of worthlessness claws at the back of his mind, eating away every other thought. When the principal promised him a talent through the hope restoration project, he thought it was a sign from the heavens. He needed this. Yet, as he watches you read through the questions, he doesn't understand why you would tell him that you hate treating people when it's your talent. Nothing adds up.
"You have questions written all over your face," You grumble. "Spill it. Don't tell me you don't have any. I know you do."
"Do you... like your talent?"
"It's not that I dislike it," You kick your legs onto the edge of the table. "It's just that it becomes boring when it's not a passion. Some people adore their talents. I am not one of them. I'm stuck treating patients every day and understanding the logic behind every single person and why they do something. I resemble an ultimate analyst almost; yet I'm not, because I consider all emotions and do things that the analyst can't. You had another question."
Hinata's surprised at how well you read him. "Ah... I don't understand why you dislike your talent."
"It's boring," You shrug. "Alright, last question. Since the process of the surgery is confidential, you realize that you are signing liability away, yes?"
"Yes."
"Then, without further ado," You sign the bottom of the paper, and Matsuda signs the second space. "Welcome to the team. We look forward to working with you," You kick your legs off the table. "Hajime Hinata."
When he grasps your hand to shake it, you know where this is going to end up.
"So... am I moving in here?"
"Yeah," You nod. "I'll start procedures in a week. Get adjusted to this while we're at it."
You hold complete power over a patient under your wing.
Matsuda supposes you're strange to some degree. He watches you break out a camera from the stuffed animal and review the entire hour that the three of you talked. You might've not taken specific notes during the actual meeting, but your writing is detailed and fine from the video. You observe Hinata to the millisecond, spending 15 minutes on a simple facial expression, breaking it down to the possible things that occurred. It doesn't matter as much to you as you'd want to admit, but you had cared for plenty of people before attending Hope's peak. He was no exception.
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Average
Intelligence quotient: Average
Emotional quotient: Average
Brain scans: Normal
Talents acquired: None
Note from doctor:
Patient signed the waiver. This means he will be expelled and start the process. Having said that, please provide at least 30 minutes of (real) sunlight time to patient on days off. I can accompany him or a guard. If patient develops depression, it will be hard to rewire a broken brain. Other than that, all signs are healthy. Nothing sad is read from his microexpressions.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
-Ѱ-
Matsuda doesn't share any details about the experiment. If anything, he might be in the dark about it as well. He doesn't pose any questions like you do. You're pretty sure the Steering Committee is about to fire you. But as you bat your lashes innocently in the name of protecting your patient, they let you off. They're going to alter his brain of some sort. You wonder if it'll cause him brain trauma. Matsuda tells you that's not part of your job. You ignore him and ask the guards around. They don't know either.
You're incredibly keen. Matsuda wonders if you're older than him sometimes. You but each person you meet, and as soon as you get what you need, the bug is gone. You're touchy, and while it seems annoying to many, you get what you want. He supposes that's what makes you so trustworthy. No patient's secret is sold, but any spare gossip you heard from students is always spared for some extra help. You will get what you want. It doesn't concern you. Anything not about your patients doesn't concern you.
You're a terrifying force to be reckoned with. The Steering Committee had granted you access to every single room in the building within the span of the week you moved in. Matsuda knows the way they stare at you. It's the human flaw to the bone. It's sickening. Yet, you use it to your advantage. The way that your lipstick's always ruined after a meeting makes Matsuda sick.
But as much as Matsuda hates you, you are someone who puts your patient first. Treatment is hard for Hinata the first week. He has to adjust to learning a new skill each day, and you're stuck observing him and forcing him to practice until it's written into his bones. You always stay until he's ready to leave, and you've given him an on-call button for when he needs help. You start treatment slowly. Hinata's put into the situations and forced to learn a skill until his fingers bleed or his mind breaks.
"What's today?" Hinata looks tired. The bags are forming under his eyes, and you can tell he's been working half to death.
"Something much gentler than yesterday," You smile, holding up a crochet kit. "I won't force you to master it at once, but we do need to start learning skills that we can't promise perfect implementation through surgery."
"Right..." Hinata grimaces.
You smile. "Shall we go over how to crochet?"
"You know how to?"
"Isn't it simple? I am allowed to have hobbies outside of my talent," You smile at him. "So,"
You're good with your hands and words. Hinata learns how to crochet basics from you incredibly quickly. He works fast, and you even consider teaching him knitting that same day. Yet as Hinata seems to smile at the yarn when he finishes, you decide it could be saved for another day. He looks somewhat at peace after two weeks of a literal hell.
He has pretty green eyes. The eyes are a determined shade of green as he starts a new ball of yarn. Despite being locked up for a month, he's progressing slowly. By now, he's gotten at least 20 of the talents expected of him. Other skills would be learned through surgery later on. You still don't know the exact number of times they're going to put him under.
He works slowly per your instructions, and he eventually speeds up. Although you don't tell him, he's required to master this by the end of the day and show you results the next. The two of you sit in silence, and chat idly while you crochet. Hinata speeds up with time, and by the time you finish one, he has four ready.
"Incredible!" You gasp. "You really are fast, Hinata-kun! You're speeding up!"
"Not only that," Matsuda closes the door as he enters. "His cerebellum's neural connection has improved significantly."
"Ah, really?" Hinata looks happy.
"What's the cerebellum store," You throw a scalpel at Hinata, and he dodges. Matsuda shows you the new brain scan.
"Implicit memories?"
"Good job!" You clasp your hands together. "Seems like he remembers the neuroscience stuff."
"Mm," Matsuda grumbles. "You haven't paid them a visit lately. The old men."
"I got what I wanted," You shrug. "There's no need. It's not like I don't have them on a leash anyways."
"You what?"
Hinata stares at you press a napkin to your lips and apply a wine red.
"You're uncomfortable?"
You stare at the boy. "Don't worry about it."
"This stupid dumbass has been s-"
"That's enough," You smack your hand over Matsuda's mouth, and you scribble a note on your clipboard. "Prep surgeries start tomorrow as told... They basically rewire your brain so that you can learn more... and suffer more brain trauma."
"Trauma?" Hinata looks scared.
"How do you think some people get their talents?" You shrug. "In two days, we master the art of chess."
"Oh, god," Hinata groans.
"Bye! I hope surgery goes well!" You wave at him as the two of you make it out of the room. Matsuda doesn't ask you any questions as to why you suddenly decided to teach him crochet of all things, but he does speak up about the surgery.
"I start tomorrow." He flips through his files. "I've been told to rewire his cerebellum. The fact that you've already improved neural networking there is going to make my job much easier."
"That's good," You flip through your own papers. "I have to report to the committee today. Thanks for bringing the right lipstick shade."
"Whose dick are you sucking today?"
"No one's," You hum as you find the right page. "There is a lot more to making sure a patient is safe than just sucking old men dick."
"Whatever you say," He rolls his eyes as the two of you enter the room.
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Average
Intelligence quotient: Average
Emotional quotient: Average
Brain scans: Normal - cerebellum neural networking improved
Talents acquired: 27
Doctor's note:
Patient seems good. Although a little apprehensive about the whole thing, he doesn't seem to be too worried. Surgery in the cerebellum can begin. Next surgery is advised to be surgery regarding the hippocampus. Muscle memory can be strengthened but explicit memory has to be improved as well.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist.
-Ѱ-
"We're doing... baking?"
"Muscle memory," You grin. "But yes, baking."
"Out in the sun?"
"It's the perfect time to gather your daily vitamin d," You shrug, lips quirked into a smile.
"At the sunroof?"
"It's not like you're allowed outside," You smile at him.
Hinata is groggy from the surgery still. Playing chess with you after surgery was a nightmare. You had called Matsuda in for help, and the two of you obliterated him in the game. He worked his ass off to learn all the strategies, and eventually, he managed to memorize the chessboard.
"Kf4," Matsuda stares at the chessboard.
"Ra8," Hinata presses the butter down.
"Rg1," Matsuda clicks his tongue. "You lost, again."
"Ugh," Hinata grumbles. "This isn't fair! Both of you are ultimates!"
"Hinata-kun, neither of us are the ultimate chessmaster," You point a finger at him. "Again."
"Again?"
"You can visualize the chessboard now," You hum. "That's an improvement."
"Is it?" Hinata stares at you uncertainly.
"Working memory at it's finest." You smile. "considering that we haven't operated on your hippocampus yet, it's pretty remarkable."
"Starting over." Matsuda resets the board. "You're white."
"d4."
"Nf6,"
The two go back and forth, and you recall it from a chess championship. You don't remember when or where but you think you've heard of this game before. You wonder if Matsuda knows. He probably doesn't.
"Hinata-kunn," You peek at his batter. "You have't added the sugar..."
"Ah," He pauses in his moves to add the sugar.
"Kf7,"
"Nd4." Hinata calls back, finishing his batter.
"Chocolate chips?"
"No, thank you," Hinata shakes his head, scooping the batter onto the tray. The two of you set the cookie batter, and Hinata places all the trays onto the cart the two of you took up to the sunroof.
"How many hours of exercise?"
"Two..."
"Today?"
"Yeah."
"That's enough," You hum. "Your heartrate went above, right?"
"Kd8," Matsuda calls.
"f5,"
"Qg1." Matsuda clicks his tongue.
"Ng7," Hinata silently cheers.
"Good job," You nod at Matsuda, and he cleans up the chessboard.
"What's next?"
"We watch you bake the cookies," You smile. "And if you burn them, tomorrow's going to be hell."
"What is this positive punishment you're shoving onto me?"
"Oh, you know!" You gasp. "Congrats! But you still need to bake the cookies."
Hinata turns out to be a pretty decent baker. His cookies come out a little raw, but they're edible. Yours come out just fine. He frowns when he spots the same temperature as yours, and you grin at him. "Wanna know why mine are better?"
"Why?"
"You added too much butter." You grin. "I'm off to send these around. I'll drop by in a bit for a cookie. Tomorrow, you learn another talent."
"What's next?"
"Calligraphy," You hum. "And then after that, you get your second surgery the day after."
"on which part?"
"Hippocampus." You hum. "That should speed up your learning speed since we'll be trying to make your working memory hold more than plus or minus seven."
Hinata looks to the side. "What else?"
"After that..." You grimace. "You start the traumatizing stuff. We're getting guinea pigs brought in so you can master how to perform surgery."
"No."
"Yes." You nod. "I won't be in charge of that, but I will be in the room to watch. Good luck."
The door closes with a muffled click.
"I brought cookies!!!" You wave your arm cheerfully at Matsuda and the guards. He turns around to grab one off of your tray, and you hand one to each of the guards, skipping down the hall. The way to a person's heart is through the stomach, yet you do everything. Matsuda no longer cares if you're manipulating him like his best friend, he's grown used to it.
"What flavour today?" One of the guards pulls down their mask to bite into the cookie.
"Sugar cookies," You hum. "Without too much sugar."
"It's good," he hums. "What did you want to know today?"
"How was the surgery last time?"
"They had to put him down on pills afterwards." He mumbles. "With Xanax or something."
You pause. That bad? You grimace as the guard takes another cookie, and you sigh. "Thank you. I figured that Matsuda-senpai had prescribed him something. I'll talk to him about it today. Thank you!"
"Can we have biscuits next time?"
"Sure." You hum. "Honey?"
"Honey."
"Hinata-kun?" You peek into the kitchen at the boy taking out his cookies. They're good now.
"Do you... want one?"
"Sure," You hand him one of yours, and he hands you his. You bite into it.
"Oh... you know what? This would be good if you had chilled the cookie batter in the fridge before..."
"That's an option?"
"Mhm!" You grin. "It's really good too."
"I'll try that next time."
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Average
Intelligence quotient: Above Average
Emotional quotient: Average
Brain scans: Normal - cerebellum surgery improved neural networking - success
Talents acquired: 59
Doctor's note:
Patient will undergo surgery in the hippocampus region of the brain next. After surgery, he will officially start learning every medical surgery process. Real humans are requested, and he will be given a neutralizer for his amygdala each time he operates on a human until his amygdala is destroyed via surgery next appointment. Please start logging patient's hours under the sun.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
Additional notes:
A minimum of four days of mandatory rest will be forced upon patient after hippocampus surgery. This is non-negotiable.
-Ѱ-
"Time for your checkup!" You grin, breaking into Hinata's room after a week. "Have you had your 30 minutes of sunlight yet? I can go with you! I brought a picnic basket and everything."
After your notes to the Steering Committee, you had assigned one of the guards to take Hinata out to the sunroof each day for at least fifty minutes in a day. The first day, he had to be wheeled because of how awful he felt from the surgery. Thankfully, it was only a brief moment. Matsuda hadn't damaged his hippocampus at all, only improving the functions.
"Ah... I already did..." Hinata stares at you. You wonder if he's traumatized after you locked him up for a whole week against the Steering Committee's wishes.
"Too bad!!" You grin. "The committee can deal with me. Shall we go? We can go on the roof."
"Ah... sure," Hinata scratches his cheek as you drag him through the halls.
"I figured," Matsuda stops discussing with a scientist before following the two of you. You scan your eye at the door, and the door to the elevator opens. You stare up at the security camera and strike a pose before throwing a cloth over it. You tap your foot on the floor, and you grin. The door opens on the top floor, and you grin at the sun.
"Oh, my beloved vitamin d!!" Matsuda takes the picnic basket from your arms, and you spread the mat. "So, Hinata, shall we get started?"
"Sure," He smiles softly, sitting next to you.
"How are you feeling today? Did anything weird happen since I last saw you? Anything."
"Nothing," He mumbles. "I just... I'm nervous? You locked me up in my room for a week other than the daily sun trips. It hurt."
"That one's on me," You hum. "Your hippocampus ended up taking a little more of a hit than we planned, so we had to put you on hold for a bit. This project matters a lot to the Steering Committee. The Hope restoration project is kind of concerning. Shall we practice stories today? I'll throw you a couple words."
"Sure."
"Pink, glow, click." You uncap your pen, ready to write notes.
Hinata tells you a story of a girl who sits by the fountain. She has pink hair, and when the sun shines from behind her on its way down, she glows. Hinata talks about a boy whom she had befriended with disgust written all over his tongue, the way the two's GameBoy keys click. You sit and listen to Hinata tell the story. He's speaking from experience.
"That's a story of your own, is it not?"You tap your pen against the clipboard. "Anything else, Hinata?"
"Ah," He pauses. "I... miss Chiaki."
"Hold my shit," You throw your clipboard and pen at Matsuda, and he reaches for a scalpel.
"Pull that out on me and I'll put laxatives in your cookie next time," You click on your phone, and you grin. "No biggie. Alright, is that all you're feeling? Anything else? Apprehension... excitement... nervousness?"
"No..." Hinata stares out the glass longingly. "I just... want to get the talents and talk to Chiaki soon."
"Understandable," You hand him a kusamochi from the basket. "The girl from the main course is Chiaki?"
"Yeah," He nods, staring at you for any sign of emotion. "Why are you conflicted?"
"I regret teaching you about microexpressions," You huff. "I'm not. I just had a moment of realization that the pink haired girl who sat every day by the fountain was called Chiaki."
"Every day?"
"She seems to be waiting for you," You shrug. "Other than that, she's fine, I think. I've never stopped to talk to her before. Shall I do that next time?"
"Please. Thank you," He feels a little better, biting down on the snack. "Ah, do you know how their class is doing?"
"Eh," You shrug. "Same as always. I heard they had soup laced with an aphrodisiac or something."
"Huh?"
"Everyone's fine," You bite into your sandwich. "Thankfully."
"Ah," He frowns.
"You want your talents soon, huh?" You stare at the frown on his face for a moment.
"I do."
"I'll talk to them about speeding up the process. Just to let you know, there's much more than just the surgery part," You pause. "There's... also the actual training after that."
"Training?"Hinata raises a brow. "Aren't I going through a training already?"
"They gave me the schedule for the harder talents," You grimace. "Hinata-kun, it's like traumatizing an adult. Do you know how bad it is? It could make you schizophrenic or give you depression. Hinata-kun, please-"
"I want to," He stares at you, eyes full of pain. "I want to have the talent."
"There's no use convincing him," Matsuda slices the apple in the basket, and he hands the two of you a third. "Don't blame either of us when you leave the pod."
You stare at Matsuda, brows furrowed, pain written all over your face. He knows. You'll come to regret not being able to save him all of your life, but you don't have much of a choice. In the end, no matter how much the Steering Committee got along with you, there was no way they would heed your advice on something that they spent years preparing. You have to stand on the side for that one. It is the one time they'll force you to.
"Hinata," You let out a breath. "Even if you lose your identity as Hajime Hinata?"
"Huh?"
"Are you willing to exchange your whole being in order to hold every single talent there is?"
Hinata stares at you. You don't know if he knows. You don't know if he can take knowing this. His entire existence as Hajime Hinata would be erased. In exchange for the talent he wanted so badly, he would give up himself as a being. He's already been given more anesthetic than necessary during his surgeries, you don't want him to get struck. He has a chance to leave before the deal closes and forces him to forget his entire existence.
Hinata isn't stupid. Well, he knows all the terms and conditions of the project. He's the guinea pig, and in exchange, he's given all the talents in the world. He wants this. He's tired of feeling like he's inferior to those with a talent. Yet, as he watches you recall everything from a textbook with ease, knowing that you worked for your talent, he falters.
"Talents..." You pause yourself. "Are bought."
"Huh?" Hinata stares at you, pausing mid-reach into the basket.
"The rich," You swallow. "We're born with a significant advantage, because we can learn things incredibly young, with the right teachers. Our parents spend money on us in exchange for our development of a talent. That's what a lot of us are. Talents like musicians, gamers, housekeepers, mechanic... we're all people who pushed our whole being into something to develop a talent. Hinata-kun, we worked hard for our talents."
Hinata doesn't want to hear another lecture.
"The rich are guaranteed a spot at this school," You smile sadly. "Hinata-kun, when you come out of surgery... no. That's selfish."
Hinata watches you stand up, and you stretch your arms above your head. Your shirt hikes up the side of your waist, and his expression grows grim. He watches you wipe your lipstick off and put on a velvet red.
"What do you need this time?"
"I want to monitor Hinata after the surgery," You stare at yourself in the window's reflection. "I'm going to work for it."
"And if they lie to you? You lied to them about locking him up."
"Then I get turned down," You stare at the lipstick. Hinata takes note that you're at the end of the pigment.
"What does that color mean?"
"Nothing that you should worry about," You fish out your ID, and you toss it to Matsuda. "That goes back downstairs. Take him to the room in around ten minutes. Take the other hallway."
Matsuda grimaces.
Hinata's picked up a few cues from staying with you in the building. You have a total of six different shades of lipstick. Well, five. Your lips usually rest with a light pink tink from your vaseline, yet occasionally, you put on lipstick. He doesn't understand why, but the look of disgust the ultimate neuroscientist gives you as you put on four of the five shades of lipstick rubs him the wrong way. It's like you reserved lipstick for something... only the Steering Committee knows about. It rubs him the wrong way, yet as he watches you leave every time, he fears that you'll leave for good one day.
He sits in silence with Matsuda.
"Do you know what their lipsticks mean?"
"What?"
"Each one represents a different Steering Committee member. Every single time you've been let off, it's because of those lipsticks," Matsuda frowns in disgust. "Do what you will with that information. Let's go back to your room."
Hinata thinks he knows.
You wipe the shade from your lips, your hair messed up from all the grabbing. You rinse out your mouth, the taste of disgust crawling up your spine. Strange. You thought you took a pill to suppress emotions before it. As you brush your teeth and adjust your hair, you take note of the red smeared on your bottom lip. You look like a mess, yet you got what you wanted. It felt disgusting. Those meaty hands grabbing the back of your head, forcing you to take more of what you despised. In the end, you were no better than a disgusting little whore.
As you step out of the bathroom, your eyes meet Matsuda's.
"What did you do it for this time?" He holds a makeup wipe, and he hands it to you. You wipe off the lipstick you couldn't get off, and you sigh.
"I wanted to be in charge of him after the surgery. I told you." You sigh. "Take a look at the back of my throat. Anything?"
Matsuda stares, and he shakes his head. "You disgust me."
"Cool. People do things to survive," You hum, pressing the vaseline onto your lips again. "Even if it disgust them."
"You have no need to."
"Why do you think we got a kitchen in this stupid building? Is it not my doing?"
"You didn't need to."
"Yes, but he needed it so he could make somewhat of a good memory before death."
"I suppose."
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Above Average
Intelligence quotient: Above Average
Emotional quotient: Average
Brain scans: Normal - hippocampus surgery improved neural networking - success
Talents acquired: 79
Doctor's note:
Patient will undergo the remaining surgery in the next session. His amygdala will be neutralized, and any parts containing emotions or memories will be wiped. Then, we will implement the rest of the talents through information injection the Ultimate Neurologist is in charge of. Patient's emotions are stabilized, though missing a friend. No issue other than that.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
-[Steering Committee]-
Ultimate Psychologist has been placed to be in charge of Kamukura Izuru's recovery process.
If he wakes during the procedure at any time, increase anesthetic dose and forcibly put him back down.
-Ѱ-
Hinata wakes during surgery, screaming and thrashing for you or his mom. The committee questions why you, but you just brush it off as transference. He wouldn't feel anything after waking up without any ability to feel emotion. You watch outside through the glass, nothing through your mind. Wrong. You feel disgusting. You've just taken a human life in the name of science and created a whole new person. It feels disgusting. It fills you with nothing but the urge to kill.
Matsuda doesn't seem to be too phased. He was the one who was put in charge of all of this anyways. It doesn't matter if either of you knew. Neither of you could've prevented this. It's disgusting. Your eyes are emotionless as you watch, the first time your emotions aren't written on your sleeve. Would Hinata- no. Would Kamukura even remember you after this? It didn't matter. You were never supposed to develop emotions for the boy, and neither was he. You're forced to be in charge of this whole situation as the only one with some sort of power left.
"Teach me neurosurgery." You stare up at Matsuda, eyes hard. He's never seen you so serious before.
"I can't," He stares at you. "You know this."
You stare up at him one last time before you hear the sound of the pod opening.
Izuru Kamukura is bored. His eyes are a piercing red, one that seems like it would kill without reason. The ends of his hair brush the floor, and instead of the brown you'd grown used to, it's a deathly black. Other than that, he's still the same. No. He isn't. When his eyes meet yours through the glass, you can read everything that you had grown used to. He was bored. He was bored. He was bored of existing already.
Unlike the Steering Committee, you have no way out of the building. All the old guards you had grown close to are replaced with new ones. You assume they killed the old ones off. The smell of blood and sanitizer lurks in the air as you open the door to Kamukura's room. You scan your eye, and the door unlocks with a click. You meet eyes with the boy.
"...general things today. We're here to check all of the talents I've once taught you. Tomorrow, we start on the new talents we gave you through surgery." You exhale through your nose, eyes weary with dread.
"Do you pity me?"
"No," You slide him an intelligence test. "I don't pity you, I feel disgust at myself. I taught you this, Kamukura-senpai. I thought you'd be better at reading by now. Why are you flawed?"
"I'm not," He fills in the paper as he talks to you. "You showed no sign of disgust."
"Talk to me in french," You sit on the seat on the other side of the table.
"Non." he stares at you, soulless. "Je veux pas."
No. I don't want to.
"Ne me dites pas non. Il faut que je vérifie vos connaissances linguistiques." You write down on the notes. "Une autre langue?"
Don't tell me no. I have to check your languages. Another language?
"¿y por qué debería hacerlo?" He continues filling out the test.
and why should I?
"Ya te lo dije." You check the box next to Spanish. "中文."
I told you. Chinese.
"然后呢？你是除了什么问题吗？我直接把其他的语言给你讲了吧." Kamukura's voice is smooth with each language.
And then? Is there a problem? I'll just cover the rest of the languages for you.
He shows no sign of linguistic determinism, his voice tone the same throughout all of the languages. You nearly envy it. It doesn't matter. The way that he talks in each language is then verified with the device. All linguistics look good. You wish you could speak that many languages.
"I'll leave you some white paper."
"It'll bore me."
"Unless you want to sit in the room with nothing to do?" You stare at him. Kamukura takes it reluctantly, his gaze lingering on you as you wipe off your lip balm. You replace it with a red.
"You're going to sleep with one of the Committee members again." You can hear something akin to disgust in his voice. You're surprised. You thought his emotions were completely wiped.
"That's cute," You stare at him. "I'm sure you know the reason as well, then."
He doesn't. Yet, something in him feels guilt.
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Exceptional
Intelligence quotient: Exceptional
Emotional quotient: None
Brain scans: Exceptional
Talents Checked: Linguistics, Languages, IQ.
Doctor's note:
Emotions are gone. No more neurosurgery is necessary.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
-[Steering Committee]-
Ultimate Psychologist's room has been merged with Subject I333K
No cameras in the room are necessary.
Signed, Steering Committee
-[Observations from Patient's work]-
First stack of paper
- encompassed the entire Japanese dictionary.
Second stack of paper:
- art (drawn with lipstick) of sketches of a woman sucking a man off. There appears to be a significant age gap, and it objectifies the man.
There consists of seven different sheets of this.
The first one is a woman applying lipstick.
The second is the woman tying her hair back.
The third through sixth are sketches of a woman sucking a man off from different angles.
The final one is an image of a woman holding a key in her hand.
Additional notes:
The woman bears a strange resemblance to the Ultimate Psychologist.
-Ѱ-
Izuru stares at you, trying to read the emotions on your face.
"Musical talent," You exhale. "Music room. Let's go."
The music room is the few rooms that you didn't have to sleep with someone to get. The stains of your lipstick are still prominent on your bottom lip and chin, yet you don't seem to notice it. You scan your eye to enter the music room, and you're mildly surprised at the interior.
Kamukura reaches for your chin, grabbing it gently, eyes still emotionless.
He wipes the lipstick from your chin.
You sense no emotion from him, so you don't give him anything in response.
"Thank you." You hum. "Shall we start with piano and work our way around?"
"Every single instrument?"
"The program is funded way more than what you think," You unfold a chair on the side, and you watch Kamukura open the piano. The sound of music floats through the air, soothing you to some degree. He sounds like a computer-generated piece. You suppose that was the perfection that the Steering Committee wanted while they created him. His music lacks emotion. You aren't in the position to nitpick at him, but it's kind of dull.
"Stop." You call after he finishes with the violin. "I won't blame you, but you lack emotion for any of the ultimate musicians. Harp."
Kamukura sits with the harp between his legs, and he plays. He still sounds generated. He sounds like a computer. You don't sense an ounce of emotion behind it. It disgusts you. The idea of wiping out a person's emotions until the chemicals they feel are nothing more than a bother to them. Everything is predictable in the eyes of a god. Is that what he was? Then surely you'd be punished for trying to do so.
"That's enough." You sigh. "You can dance as well, yes?"
He nods. "You look agitated."
"Thanks for pointing out the obvious." You grumble. "They took away your ability to feel emotion so your ability to play sounds like it's a computer generated piece. I suppose that's what they wanted you to be. Something akin to a computer. Dance for me."
"With what music?"
You pry the piano open, and you stretch your fingers. "Random notes."
They aren't, in fact, random notes. Kamukura hears a whole melody behind it, yet he encapsulates the dance perfectly. You force him to swap from jazz to ballet. From ballet to tap dancing, and then from tap to modern. You force him to dance over and over again, changing styles with each measure. Kamukura is a perfect dancer. He moves elegantly and all lively. He looks pretty like that. You stop playing, and he stops to stare at you.
"No sweating?" You close the piano, and you press your fingers to his forehead.
He doesn't flinch, yet he raises a brow at you.
"I know," You hum. "Woe is you, who must listen and read the entire world."
"Why do you do this?"
"Because I have no choice? Because I didn't read the fine print on the papers?" You shrug. "because humans are flawed."
"How expected."
"Mhm," You shrug. "Let's get back."
"You will be staying with me starting today, correct?"
"Yes." You hum. "Anything you request can be granted. I hold the keys to each room in this building. Including the room to the Steering Committee."
"You slept with them that many times," It's more of a statement than a question. "How expected."
"How else do you think this entire floor has been renovated into a house of my own?" You shrug. "Sometimes your mouth is more useful than words."
"Sometimes?" He stares at you, eyes digging into yours. "It seems that you can't convince them with words alone."
"Ah, how surprising," You shrug. "You should know, right? Survival tactics are different for everyone. I wonder if they moved my bed into your room yet."
"Aren't they just going to knock the wall down?"
"You're like a child," You stare at Kamukura. "A young child that can think of every possible answer, yet can't. Can you see ghosts?"
"They don't exist."
"How disappointing." You mumble. "Say, help me out with my makeup later, will you? I have something else I need in the room."
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
General reasoning: Exceptional
Intelligence quotient: Exceptional
Emotional quotient: None
Brain scans: Exceptional
Talents Checked: Music, Makeup
Doctor's note:
{Blank}
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
-[Steering Committee]-
{Blank}
Signed, Steering Committee
-[Observations from Patient's work]-
No papers were left behind, though the Ultimate Psychologist left him four different puzzles. He solved them within the 10 minutes that she first left. He then solved it without manual instructions in a way that we weren't able to determine.
-Ѱ-
Kamukura stares at the machinery you have Matsuda help bring into the room. His eyes dig into yours, and you stare back at him. You have a new shade of lipstick on. None of you say anything as Matsuda plugs all of the strings and stickers onto his skin. They don't bother him anymore. He knows why you're doing this. He knows what your motive is. Yet, as you stare at him, eyes void of anything he can read, he falters. When has the created ever outsmarted the creator? Though, he knows what eyes those are.
"You're going to suck me off."
You spin the keys on your finger, and you grin at him. He seems to laugh at you in his own way. In the bland, expected, boring way that he always does. His eyes are anything but amused. The other doctors have begun to enter the room in the intervals that you're in class, and he's being taught that talentless people are useless. He wonders what you have to say about it. Though, something in the back of his mind tells him he already knows.
Matsuda checks the machine before nodding at you. The neuroscientist had stopped his visits altogether after you wrote the first note. He was no longer needed, and he was just another pawn on the board that the Steering Committee held. Your lips quirk up in amusement as Matsuda leaves the room, and you finally speak up.
"No. I don't think people without talent are useless," You chuckle as you open up your notes. "I think you already know that."
Kamukura answers you with silence. The same, disgusting silence that you've grown used to. The two of you sit in silence for a while, and then you let out a laugh that Kamukura has been wired to think is unhinged. Your lips are a deathly shade of crimson. They match his eyes. For a moment, Kamukura thinks you're going to do exactly as he predicted. Yet, as your laugh turns into a cracked smile, he's intrigued.
"You've seen all the possibilities," You smile. "What do you think about a little entertainment?"
"Of?"
"A killing game," You shrug. "A school shooting? A mass protest? A loss of identity? Or... a guessing game? Who am I going to kill with a cookie tonight?"
Kamukura stares at your lips.
"Wanna kiss me? This is the same shade as the strawberry blonde chick that visited you the other day. I stole her lipstick from her room while visiting with Matsuda. She probably knows this by now."
"You look much better in it than her."
"How flattering."
Kamukura should have grown to know that his creator would have been anything but human in any way. Yet, as you bite down on a cookie from the batch, he's playing with probability. There's a chance it could be anyone. It wouldn't be surprising if it were any of the guards. Perhaps you would kill someone you didn't get along with. You just snort as you click on a handful of buttons on the machine connected to him.
"We'll find out later," You step up to him, fingers loosening his tie. "Tea?"
Kamukura knows every reference in the book, yet as you stare at him with a slimmer of compassion, he finds himself nodding unconsciously. "It doesn't matter." His eyes tell you something else.
"Just to measure brain activity." You unbuckle his belt, fingers working nimbly. You stare at the device. "Wow, not an ounce of a reaction... I'm sure you'll see if there's a reason behind why I always get my way with the old men."
As your lips press onto his, he doesn't once make a move to push you off. He wonders if you're checking all his sexual talents today. You never mentioned what you were checking. In a way, he thinks that you're here to check if he's human, perhaps. Lust was one of the oldest temptations in the world. Zeus lusted after nearly everything. The sweet taste of the fruit on Eve's lips was no less than lust. The siren's songs, the cheap women on the streets. Everyone fell into that desire at some point in their life. Maybe this was your way of checking if he was human.
"Mm," You stare at the hickey you left on his collar, and then at his heart rate. "Good to see they didn't fuck up your heart. Let's see if you run out of breath from these lips you seem to despise so much, hm?"
Throughout the entire scan, there aren't any abnormalities. You're pretty sure that it's concerning in a way, yet as you wipe your lipstick off with the makeup remover, you're proved wrong. The scans don't show improved brain activity, but the chemicals released are all those related to pleasure. Kamukura pants, chest heaving. His lips are parted in order to catch his breath, and the bed is a mess of bodily fluids under him, mostly his. If anything, you've remained dry throughout the entire session. Kamukura's mind is a little hazed, his patient robe loose around his body now.
"Nice tits." You laugh at the paper in your hand, eyeing Kamukura.
He stares at you without moving his head, eyes slanted with no surprise.
"A shame, really," You shrug. "Have they started making you work out?"
"No." He stares at you. "Are you going to put on velvet again?"
"Hm? Yeah," You grab the lipstick from the basket, and you press the baby pink onto your lips. "You want to work out, no?"
"I do."
"Then I'll get what we need." You use your pinky to check if it stains, and you smile when it doesn't.
"Anything else?"
He stares at you. "What were the results of my test?"
"I'm sure you know."
Kamukura's eyes are filled with disgust as you walk out again.
-Ѱ-
Information collected:
Brain scan: Exceptional
Talents Checked: NSFW
Doctor's note:
He's a good fuck. Perfect one, actually. Quite a shame that none of you are gay.
Signed, Ultimate Psychologist
-[Steering Committee]-
A gym will be built in room 17 at the end of the hall across from the music room. Once finished, Ultimate Psychologist is to go there to check the Ultimate Hope's talents.
It would be a shame if any of us struck that way. A show has been requested for the next request.
Signed, Steering Committee
-[Observations from Patient's work]-
Noticed activity in the TVA region in Ultimate Hope's brain around Ultimate Psychologist. Though not harmful, it is advised to keep the chain tighter.
Noticed release of vasopressin and oxytocin in patient's brain region when engaging in sexual activity.
Signed, Ultimate Neurologist
-Ѱ-
"It's good you can show disgust now," You hum. "How were the other doctors?"
Kamukura stares at you, eyes void. "You let them in."
"I didn't," You tap the clipboard with your pen. "I didn't know."
You didn't. Kamukura blames you because of the notes you wrote the committee. Yet, you had no clue they would do that. At least you got him the pass to enter the gym as he willed. It's disgusting, being used. He feels nothing as they abuse him with their power, yet the fact that he was being used by someone other than you struck him the wrong way. His eyes meet yours, and you smile at him. Your lips are colorless today.
"Not sleeping with anyone today?"
You laugh. "No. I'm sleeping with someone who hates lipstick."
"Matsuda."
You imitate the sound of bells, and you smile at him.
"You're giving me that lie again." He taps the table. "You just finished sleeping with one of the men. I believe it was the tall one."
"Oh? No. You got that one wrong," You hum. "My lips are colorless because I lost the shade I was supposed to wear. I should be hearing about it anyyy minute now."
The clock strikes twelve.
"ULTIMATE?! ARE YOU IN THERE? A COMMITTEE MEMBER HAS FALLEN ILL!" One of the guards bangs on the door, and you stare at Kamukura for a brief moment before opening the door.
"What happened?" You punch the code to the door in frantically, and he pants. "Doctor says he died."
"Oh," Your eyes are wide with genuine shock. "Which one?"
As his name rolls off the guard's lips, your lip quivers. Your heart shatters in a way. Kamukura watches genuine emotion roll out of you in waves. He watches as horror floods through your body at the name, and how you rush out of the room after the guards frantically. He isn't allowed to follow you, yet you drag him along anyway. Your excuse was that he could predict everything; surely he could catch the killer of the case. As the four of you make it to the door, Matsuda shakes his head. He's gone.
He meets eyes with Kamukura. Neither of them says anything.
You're allowed out to attend his funeral. You put on quite the show for everyone. Kamukura watches your face lace with genuine grief. You're not lying in any way; none of your microexpressions give you away. The only two aware of the whole situation stay quiet. You aren't sure why Kamukura doesn't sell you out and accuses another member of the Steering Committee instead, but you go along with it. You're pretty sure he's going to ask for something in exchange.
The member is dragged off, yelling, screaming, thrashing against the guards. You beg the guards that it couldn't have been him. He was so kind to you. He did everything that was instructed of him! Your tears convince the guards to let you talk to him in hopes of lightening his sentence. You sit in the cell with him, Kamukura behind you like a dog standing guard. You stop the crying with the sound of footsteps fading, and you stare at him.
"Get me out of here, darling! You know I would never kill any of them!" His voice is frantic, genuine fear flooding through his body. He trusts you a lot. Your faux sympathy seeps into his skin, causing it to crawl. You were a strange one.
"But you were found at the scene!" You wipe your tears, lips pulled into an awful sob. "But it has to be a mistake. Surely?"
"Yes! Oh, darling, only you believe me now..." His voice is filled with affection for you.
"So? Was it adequate?" Your lips are the color that he adores. They look poisonous today. Your lips are quirked into a gentle smirk, and you lower your voice. The velvet on your lips looks duller under the prison light, and his eyes widen in realization. You hum, a soft smile on your face. "Was it adequate? Did it feel good? When you killed a member of the committee with your own hands?"
"Darling, you told me that he hated me!"
"I did no such thing!" Your voice wavers, and instead of reading a lie, they would read it as genuine pain. "How could you accuse me of that! You were the one who told me that you felt like he was suspecting you, so I went to ask him! You're the one who bugged me!"
Everything matches up to the false reality Kamukura created for this scenario. You cry tears, and Kamukura knocks at the door twice. The guard comes in and escorts you out, and your shoulders shake from the weight of your tears. The velvet on your lips seems to be lighter, and you barely have the energy to do anything. The next morning, he's found dead in his cell.
The weight of everything hits you hard. The velvet red is ditched in the trash; As you reach your room with Kamukura, your eyes meet his.
"Was that fun?"
"It was predictable."
"No," You shake your head. "Not the trial or acting. Was seeing the tabloid fun?"
Kamukura stares at the newspaper sticking out from your purse. You unbutton the coat, and you get changed as he reads. The paper has his face plastered on it and then a simple testimony and transcript from the male's last moments before death. Kamukura doesn't read it with a trace of surprise, yet he blinks at the name of the writer.
Kamukura Izuru, the dead principal.
He looks up at your half-naked figure, and he stares. His eyes don't move, and he takes in every inch of your skin. You don't mind the staring, having grown used to it. It was like he couldn't seem to learn about you no matter how hard he tried. The independent variable that changed and spun at will. He wonders when you had clasped that chain around his neck so gently. Perhaps you had it on him ever since he met eyes with you after surgery. Kamukura finds no will to break free. You provided more entertainment than whatever the pink-haired girl had promised him.
"Who's next?"
"Guess," Your lips have a pretty rose on them.
Out of the four men, the only two left are the weak-willed ones.
Eventually, the rose-red is thrown into the trash. The committee member hung himself. His suicide note was perfectly written, perfectly in his style. No one questions the reason for his death. Again, you're crying when you hear the news. Kamukura makes a perfect alibi. No one questions him, and if they do, he forcibly represses that memory. No one questions either of you. Kamukura is programmed to be honest with the committee members.
With the last man in the room, he sighs as you step into the room.
"Honey."
"Are you okay?" You sit in his lap, hand on his chest, drawing slow circles. "Their deaths... must've taken a toll on you."
"At least I have you left," He sighs. "I just..."
"Of course..." You mumble sadly. "You're the one who scribbled out the note that you wanted a show, right?"
He pauses as he spots the blood-red eyes in the dark.
"How about a show for him?" The old man stares at the way Kamukura's eyes are sharp with disgust at him.
As he finishes the sentence, the man grabs you. His lips are on yours, and you can taste the metal on his tongue. You hear the sound of a few people dropping to the ground with a thud, and you pull the knife from your leg, hooking your arms around his neck. The knife is pressed to his neck, the satisfying sound of a crunch echoing through the room as the last man drops dead. Your mouth tastes disgusting.
You reach your fingers into your mouth, stained with his blood, in hopes of getting rid of his taste. You're repulsed. It tastes just like him.
Kamukura stares at you from across the room, and you stare at him.
"Help me out?" You give him doe eyes, and he complies.
He steps closer to you, and he traces your bottom lip with his thumb, removing the lipstick. He takes off the glove, and he slides two fingers into your mouth to collect the saliva and shake it off of him. Wiping it off with his hand, you taste the flavor on your tongue. It's gone.
"Thank you." You step off of the corpse, half of your pretty dress ruined by the blood. His eyes stare at the color the white has been stained to, and you stare at the guards outside. Your lips are quirked into a stunning smile, and you wave at them. Kamukura has an urge to press his lips to yours, but stops himself before any more thoughts can occur.
"How about a prize?" You hum, tugging on the tie of his suit. He complies, realizing that you saw right through him. Your lips are his shade of crimson instead of the wine red that you usually used with the dead man. He had wiped off your lipstick before, yet you still had time to put on the crimson. He presses his lips to yours, eyes staying open. Yours close, fingers playing with his hair. He likes this. Is that what the emotion was? He likes it.
You're in charge now.
The first thing you do is make the atrocity public. Every detail about your life is hidden from the public eye, and Kamukura stares at the way people avoid him in the halls. His lips are pulled into the thin line that is expected of him; you find him predictable at this rate.
"You'll be joining 77b." You hum. "I'm in class 78."
He stares at you. "77b."
"Yeah, your class," You hum, looking at the paperwork.
"No." He stares at you. "How brainless must you be? You are to join class 77b with me."
"Oh, I don't decide that," You shrug. "Talk to the principal."
"You underestimate me," He hands you your student ID, and you blink at the sight of you being moved up an entire grade. You wonder if Kamukura blackmailed the principal again. Yet, as he stares at you with something akin to interest, you scoff. Maybe it would be funny.
"How much longer until I bore you?"
He doesn't answer.
"I hope you stay interested in me for the rest of my life, because I've already grown bored of you." Your lips are pulled in the same smile that Kamukura had seen that day. It's grown enticing. It's like an invitation that he knows the ending to. He no longer minds the predictability of you. He takes the broken hand you hold out to him. He flies closer and closer to the sun as Icarus had, knowing that his wings were bound to burn out on him at some point. He doesn't care. If his wings were to burn out while grasping onto you, he would.
"It feels weird not having something between my lips now," Your fingers work on the crochet project, and he finishes the other side casually. His eyes meet yours, and you laugh. "I'm kidding. Sort of. It feels weird not sleeping with someone to make sure I have basic survival necessities."
"They made you?" He raises a brow. The few things he could never read was your relationship with the men. It was strange. It was like a part of his brain refused to believe that you were capable of it. You were, and strangely enough, you are.
"I lied!" You beam. "I was the one who waltzed into the room. They were just prey."
"Excuse me?"
You smile. "Exactly what you think."
Kamukura is a dog. He knows his place, almost. It's like he knows he has a chain around his neck and belongs to the supposed Ultimate Psychologist. He wonders if you had more than just a single talent. It would make sense. Or it was a survival tactic you had learned. He follows behind you around school, eyes hard and cold to anyone who wanted to approach you. You stick around your classmates, yet the clouds of a storm form around you. Kamukura can feel it coming.
It comes in the form of a new lip balm.
"Strawberry."
"It'll be gone within a week," You pull gently on his tie, and he follows after you.
True to your word, the girl is dead by the end of the week. You stare down at the strawberry blonde and her sister in a pool of blood. The strawberry lip balm tastes sweet against Izuru's lips as you kiss him as a reward. He likes prizes from you. You spoil him to bits and pieces. The way your lips seem to be some sort of drug to him; he doesn't know why. He's enamored with you. Oh, if he could hold on to you forever. He wonders why he has such thoughts.
"Your TVA has been active lately," You hum, pressing your fingers into your cheek as you look at the test results. "How surprising."
Kamukura is quiet as he draws on the paper. It bores him the same way everything else does, yet he draws your pretty face while kissing him. The sight of you pressed close to him provides him with some sort of emotion. He doesn't know what he feels for you, yet it works, he supposes. The lip balm isn't as prominent as the cherry red from last time, yet it's still visibly you and him.
"Do I get a kiss each time I kill someone?"
"No," You continue working on the project in your hand. "You can get a kiss whenever you want. Don't you know? Or is your frontal cortex not working because of the vast amount of oxytocin and vassopressin being released? I can't believe they neutralized your amygdala only for you to fall in love and still produce the two love chemicals."
"Is that so," He takes a step toward you.
"Yeah," You kick one leg over the other, and you stare up at him. His eyes drop to your cleavage, and then an exhale.
"I could do many things to you."
"I know," You smirk. "Yet you don't."
"If I do something worth it, may I have my way with you?"
He's polite. "Sure."
The two of you go about your school lives with relative ease. While everything bores Kamukura to no end, you find it cute. The two of you attend class, scribbling notes to each other and playing games with Chiaki. You always end up in last place. The other true stuck hard to their talents, yet you have a little fun with Komaeda, providing treatment to him. Kamukura sits down and lets Ibuki do his hair as you help out your classmates.
"It's boring,"
"Yeah, but you find beauty in the boring things, no?" You smile at him. "If it bores you that much, then find something to do?"
"Lipstick."
"Ah, I can't throw any away yet," You sigh. "Shall we buy one for you to use?"
"No," He brushes his thumb along your bottom lip and wipes it onto the paper. "I'll just use you."
"How cute," You mumble. "You still have scenes to draw?"
"No," He stares at you. "Shall you help me out?"
Kamukura is mean.
He's mean not because of what he says to you. You can take what he says to you. You amuse him with your mindless banter. Your tongue is just as sharp as his, yet he argues back with you for some sort of amusement. You've got a pretty crimson collar on him, yet he pulls on the black one clasped around your neck only during times like this. Even if it means it's predictable.
No. Kamukura is mean because he likes having his way with you.
He likes pressing your mascara-stained cheeks into the mattress as he rams into you. He likes the way your moans are muffled from the plush of the pillow. He likes seeing you look a tear-stained mess under him. He likes the way you whine and complain about how he's too much. It's the few things he enjoys. It sends a rush through his body that he feels few times in life. And the best part is, no matter how many times he does it, it doesn't get boring.
"'s too much," You whine as he forces his cock into you again.
"Too bad," He mumbles, forcing you to arch by pulling your collar. Your face is a mess. Drool trickles past your crimson lips, and your cheeks are stained black. You look like a mess, but a pretty one. "You like this."
You recall the few times that you had actually let him have his way with you. The first time, he had taken it easy since it was just for examination. He had passed, and you were thankfully conscious enough to complete the form. The second time, it was when you had let him entertain himself for a bit after the death of the Steering Committee. He had found out you look exceptionally good with tear-stained cheeks. The third, it was an impulse for you. He had let you pull on his collar, yet it didn't bore him. You were strange.
"I- hah," You moan. "Don't."
"Keep telling yourself that," His eyes stay half-lidded as he presses your face into the mattress. "You were begging for more earlier. I gave you what you want, so why are you whining about too much now?"
"N-no," You hiss as his fingers dig into your waist. "I said-" You help as he lets go of the collar, forcing you to fall onto the mattress. His hand forces you into the bed, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room. You want to argue that it was his idea to test your limits, but you can't seem to form a coherent sentence anymore. Mindless babbles slip past your lips. You're hazy with lust instead. You don't seem to fight him as much as before.
Kamukura likes this twist on power. Usually, it was you who had him on a leash and forced him to obey. He likes the image of black running down your cheeks and red smeared across your lips. He hooks an arm under your stomach, forcing you back up. He stares at you in the mirror. He gets a kick out of the way you look messed up from his antics. You're pretty. Incredibly so. And as he starts pressing back into you, and a whine slips past your lips, he thinks you sound good as well.
Perhaps this was why the men had been so reluctant to let you go. Too bad you're his now.
He feels you clench around him and whine, and he exhales. "Cum."
You gasp and claw the sheets as you finally get to cum. The whine that slips past your lips triggers something primal in Kamukura as he finishes inside of you. You mumble a weak complaint about the action, but you relax as soon as you remember he's got every single talent. Your eyes are hazy from the sex, panting as you come down from the high. Kamukura is sure to make sure you're taken care of.
"How many sheets of paper will that last you?"
"At least two stacks," He wipes you down, and you sigh.
"Better than last time."
"I'll tell Yukizome-sensei that you'll be out tomorrow," His voice is surprisingly gentle.
"What happened to your boredom?"
"I had fun." He pauses to stare at you.
"Well," He helps you sit up. "Good to know you aren't lying..."
The silence overtakes the two of you. A million thoughts plague your mind, and you close your eyes. You don't want to say it. His red eyes would just dig into yours without emotion again, his body language giving nothing away. No matter how entertaining he found you, he would never be able to stay amused for long. You cover your eyes with your forearm in hopes that maybe the thoughts would be taken away. They aren't.
"Say it." Kamukura mumbles.
"You'll grow bored of me one day."
"I won't," He mumbles, nestling his chin in the crook of your neck.
"How do you know?"
"The created never leaves the creator," You feel his lashes flutter against your skin. "Just as the devil never left god, or how your sins never leave your body. How humans gravitate back to their soulmates regardless. I'm not good with words of comfort. I... apologize."
"Don't," You close your eyes, lips tugging into a smile. "You don't lie to me."
"I don't," He affirms.
"That's enough for me." You smile. "If my heart is to burn in your hands, then I would be satisfied. Even if there is no entertainment left for you in this world, I would hope that my death would do something for you."
"No." He mumbles. "Because in the end, both you and I are humans."
#kamukura x reader#izuru x reader#izuru kamukura x reader#dr3 x reader#danganronpa x reader#izuru kamukura#izuru#kamukura#☾.nsfw#☾.fics
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The lava monster issue
There was a certain weird aspect about the lava monster. The concept of him and his backstory is simple, what makes him relatable episodic character, but only on the surface level, because as soon you start to think and analyze the details and how it sticks to the premise of setting, you will realize that there's something wrong either with the character or with something around him.
First of all, ironically, but exactly this lava warrior is the first human Jack ever kills. Yes, Jack just helped him to rest in peace, so the guy died mostly due to his age, so he is in Valgalla now as he wanted, but still. Jack became the reason of his death, hence he killed a human before his encounter with bounty hunters from 5 episode of 4 season.
Second, how this warrior mentions, the monster (of course, Aku) imprisoned him in crystal, but the warrior's spirit was strong enough so this "prison" stone became his body basically, and he is able to fight and even control stones and lava... And instead of a battle against Aku for avenging his family and maybe even helping to other enslaved ones he creates various traps for a warriors, who would kill him, so he would go to Valgalla through honorable duel... What?! There's no mention that he can't leave these mountains! He literally created all these traps, i.e. he went on outside of the mountains! Yes, he is trapped in the stone body, but he doesn't mention that he can't leave these lands! He can do various weapons from own body just like Aku does! What a heck?! He is the earth/lava bender straight up!
And, well, with omiting some details for a while, this warrior did nothing wrong and was pretty good guy, who protected his people. Why the three alien gods from "Birth of Evil" did nothing?! Why they didn't help to this guy to save his family?! Why they didn't give him a weapon against "the monster"?! Why they were okay with him being cursed and trapped for eons?!
And third, his backstory raises lots of questions. Of course, since this guy exists for eons, and he learnt lava/earth bending after many centuries of lying in the cursed trap, his memories about the past could be mostly erased and become very vague, i.e. he remembers only certain vague parts, but not details and full events (and, well, we remember the example of Emperor's words about his confrontation with Aku in 1 episode of 1 season and what really happened in "Birth of Evil" between him and Aku). But still.
Like, he mentions that the black moon made the solar eclipse and started to grow, so the darkness absorbed skies and woods and then "the monster born from the darkness attacked" and began to destroy the warrior's kingdom.
Ah... why Aku decided to teleport(?) exactly this way? Moreover, why Aku was there alone and decided to attack exactly them and exactly to burn these lands with its human habitants?! This event clearly happened after Jack was sent to the future, 'cause before this Aku chilled only in Emperor's lands (and after he was free from the stone tree, he attacked exactly Emperor's kingdom). You really don't see the problem? Well, if Aku started to take over the world, he had to be with the large armies of robots and demons, i.e. the warrior would remember small demons and "giant iron insects/people" or whatever. Plus, the people mostly would be enslaved, not killed.
Another aspect — how, according to the lava warrior, Aku mocked on him "You'll never join your family/friends!" and hence trapped him in the magical crystal forever just because the warrior attacked him (and again this parallel with arrows).
Ah... I don't know, but such a brutal punishment "for eternity" would be more suitable for Jack's parents, especially Jack's father, not just some random dude from thousands Aku will see in the future (although, Aku could see some parallel — like, the guy clearly was a chief in his tribe and had a wife and two sons, but nah, here Aku just demonstrates that black cynical humor some mythical creatures/spirits had).
Simply saying, the guy not only has almost erased and vague memories about these events, but also he doesn't know the whole story, 'cause he arrived exactly after the attack already happened.
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As there’s potentially a New Stargate thingy on the horizon and they might be confused how to go about it, here’s a rough template, based on no particular Atlantis’s.
—— ——————-
“Welcome, new characters, to our ensemble space show. We promise to give you all equal screen time and not to focus on two or three characters whom the writers can relate to/ and or want to bone.
(This promise is not legally binding and can be rescinded at any time)
———
“Okay… ah, yes, you’re the token Token character. You won’t get much to do, so just… be there. Here, your welcome pack comes with a set of travel games, cards and dice for the downtime.
There’ll be a lot of downtime.”
———
Hi there, welcome to the world of skimpy outfits and permanent goosebumps. Remember, you will be allowed to kick ass at intervals, but only if you do it in an aesthetically pleasing manner, with lots of leg.
As you are a woman, you are contractually obliged to remain attractive at all times and become exasperated with the menfolk at least once per episode.
No, you are not allowed shenanigans. That’s what you’re there to be exasperated with.”
———
“So, you’ve been with us before I see - ah, yes the ‘kickable bastard, specifically introduced to make the main character(s) look good”.
But now you’ve been upgraded to… what was it… tart with a heart? Oh, right, still a bastard but with a reluctant soft side and hints of character development, which will ebb and flow like the tides.
“No, you do not get an option to apply for tart status.”
———
“Ah, yes, we have you down as a ‘Jack O’Neill’ type… heroics, stoicism, deadpan banter… hides intelligence behind food, Ferris Wheels, etc.
“Hmm. Your hair is a little quirky for the part, but we’ll allow it.”
“Stay on script, face rigid, except for the smirk - we like the smirk - and for Big Drama Wobbles and you’ll be fine.”
———
“So, as the leader of the expedition, you’ll be getting complicated character arcs, investigations into your inner life, some intelligent, in-depth, exploration of the moral dilemmas involved and… oh, hang on, sorry, you’re a woman.
Right then, you get the ‘main character-lite’ version of the above, which half asses all of that, but does come with flattering clothes and make-up. Don’t worry. The standard ‘exasperated with the menfolk’ clause applies to you too, so that should fill out any gaps in your character.”
———
“Exciting news, Token character ! No, sorry, it’s not actual development - you’ll be essentially sleeping through the next three episodes, so you get our complimentary pillow and duvet set. It comes with a free mint!
Please do not soil, we’ll want it back when your character inexplicably disappoints the people who didn’t develop it, by not being developed enough.”
———
“Fake O’Neill, It’s been brought to our attention that you’ve been using your face to directly contradict your strictly heterosexual hero status. Please brush the hearts out of your eyes before engaging in manly banter and for god’s sake be a little less … goofy.”
———
“Good news, Warrior Princess, we’ve been spending a lot of time and thought on your character and we think we’ve finally cracked the most important aspect of it.
Your new hairstyle debuts next episode. We have high hopes.”
———
“Well, you’ve actually become a loveable and popular character, with great co-star chemistry and a nuanced emotional range. So, where we’d like to move in the future, is to interweave your moments of heroism and emotional development, with making you the city butt monkey for no good reason, except we think its kinda funny. And also, a token girlfriend, because the co-star chemistry thing isn’t actually supposed to be quite that, you-know. Chemical.
We’ve spoken to Fake O’Neill about it as well, of course, but frankly we think he’s started looking at your ass even more since then.
I mean, to be fair, it’s a damn fine ass.”
———
Token character, I’m pleased to announce that we finally have that character development you asked for.
Your ‘Villain Arc’ pack is on the right chair and your marching orders are on the left. It’s been nondescript working with you.
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🖊 + Alma please?
Ah yes! The new gal thank you! I gave a few because I just love her......
🖊- Alma is actually a bit near sighted and does not wear glasses. Which is a bit of pride based thing since it didn't really show up until she was a teenager, but also I have yet to see any other character wear them so they clearly don't exist in Valisthea (yet I wouldn't put it past Mid to figure it out and make glasses). Its not terrible (she would probably only need -1.00 prescription lenses) as she can still make out general expressions from people that are 10ft from her (and even then it has its limits if certain features aren't easy to see like pale skin and blonde eyebrows) but not much in the way of details. People she's known for a long time she can recognize most easily from a distance, like Joshua and Jote, but overall she's very good at identifying body language and voices because of it. This also leads to her holding a knife to Clive's throat the first time seeing him up close because well she didn't know the man's features.
🖊- Alma was actually born across the Narrow and lived in Ash until she was about 8 when her unbranded bearer parents made the choice to try and find a better life away from the Blight and growing zealotry for an old god. It was once they landed near the Empire that her mother and father were eventually branded and the three of them were forced into servitude until they tried to make their escape to Rosaria leaving Alma all alone when she was freshly 10. From there she would be taken in by the Undying and assisted in the care of one Joshua Rosfield.
🖊- Despite both of Alma's parents being bearers she was not one herself, though many believed it was only ever a matter of time. Which was fine in the end as the two were from long lines of healers and light aspected themselves so Alma got to have her start in learning both methods to have an understanding in magic and skills in a more physical sense as her family were believers in that you wouldn't always be able to have magic out in the field and so one should be ready at all costs (frankly Cid would have liked them and their methods and mindset).
🖊- Even before they were ever together in a romantic sense Alma and Joshua shared a bed since the age of 13. It started when it was decided upon that many of the ministrations would be performed by Alma since they were the same age and wanted to keep him calm/feel more comfortable seeing someone close in age to him often, but since he was still trying to recover after having woken up (in a very distant ghostly kind of way mind you) he was susceptible to the high possibility of his body failing him. This is exactly what happened and had Alma not been so diligent of checking on him almost hourly he would have died. It scared her so much and she didn't want to fail at her job, feeling like it cut it too close checking up on him hourly, so she started to sleep in the same room as him and sleeping in the same bed when the nightmares were really bad for him. It became a thing of comfort and continued on even after he was fully awake two years after.
#Also I will assure you there is at least a happy ending for the two of them#i'm still in the middle of my second replay doing all the side quests as I go through so its still possible i may go with bad over good but#i doubt it because its me lets be real here#thank you for the ask! I love my gal so much...#alma ffxvi oc#alma headcanons
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Lighting and Stranger Things Season Four - Full Analysis (Pt.37)
Now where where we? Ah, yes. In the pit of despair. So, after the monologue, Vecna gets his shit rocked by everyone. My favourite thing in season four (besides the lighting and Will) is in this part of episode nine. And I have wanted to talk about it for like. Three months.
S4:E9 - FIRE!!!! (#1)
So, Murrays got a flame thrower. In the latter half of the Vecna battle, it’s all fire. The fire has a few distinct characteristics that are emphasized when we see it. First, it’s intentional and directed. Like Murray with his flame thrower, he aims it and intentionally fires at a target. Second, the people fighting with fire are our characters that we’re rooting for. That’s their weapon of choice, not Vecna’s. And thirdly, and most importantly, the fire we are shown has two distinct colours. And yes, while this is just science because blue fire is hotter than yellow and orange- our attention is drawn to this aspect of fire in these shots. These two colours.
Blue and yellow.
Nancy, Steve and Robin are freed from the vines. A few notes about their costuming; Robin has a red hat and a vest, Nancy has a gun and pink nail polish, and Steve has visible patches and his watch is in shot. Will Byers in season one episode one, was wearing a red vest and notably had a shotgun. Eddie, when he dies, tries to get away on a bike. The bikes this season have had different tones of light, Eddie and Robin’s being the brightest when compared to Steve and Nancy. In the second half of the Vecna fight Robin, Nancy and Eddie have objects around them and on them, that point to Will in season one, episode one.
“God, we need Will,” is a line that persists all throughout season four. Max draws the Creel house, they communicate with the lights in the Upside Down, Max confronts Vecna, they track Vecna with the lights. They’re doing exactly what Will has already done. They’re piggybacking off of Will’s experiences.
Hopper picks up this sword after Murray sets everyone on fire. The way that this is shot, makes me think that this sword is more than just a symbol of protection and bravery. And all that sword stuff. We’re meant to look at it and make connections. Important objects have emphasis- like Will’s painting, and the fire, and the stained glass window behind El. We are meant to look at them.
Within Stranger Things, there is one specific sword that comes to my mind. The sword outside of Castle Byers. Another connection to Will.
The lights here are yellow and blue. Like the fire was. Yellow and Blue are Mike and Will’s colours, and Mike and Will were absent from the main supernatural arc this season. Even in a different country- Joyce, Hopper and Murray managed to get themselves involved in the Upside Down. El was learning about her past, everyone in Hawkins was dealing with Vecna- but Mike, Will, Jonathan and Argyle were visiting Suzie. And having heart to hearts. And finding El. They had nearly no connection to anything happening in Hawkins. But everything in this last half of the battle seems to be saying they should’ve been there.
Steve throws the first molotov cocktail. But Robin is more interesting. She’s got her vest and red hat which I mentioned before, but now we can see that even the cloth in her molotov cocktail is red. Red like Coca Cola, and blood, and the accents on Will’s cloths in season one and three. Like the heart on Will’s painting.
We get a close up slow-mo shot of this thing flying through the air. We’ve got red and blue accents, which if we’re in line with the Snow Ball- mean forced conformity. The fire, like Murray’s flame thrower, is blue and yellow. There’s a lot going on here. Especially the fact that the name of the alcohol is ‘Balfour’.
The setting that they’re in is blue- this contrasts the fire really well. I also just wanted to mention the stuff they put into each frame? Like there’s different colours and overlays and circles of light, and it’s a whole lot of editing. I think it’s really cool. There’s just so much that’s been put into this scene.
Hopper cuts off the demogorgon's right arm. The left arm is the Vecna related one. So this could be furthering the idea that they’re losing this fight because they went about it the wrong way. Another thing is that Hopper (and Joyce’s) Jacket is red and blue. And the setting is somewhat red and blue tinted. That also points to themes of forced conformity, as was established by the Snow Ball in both season two, and in this season when we went back there with Max.
They set Vecna on fire. And we’ve got more red and blue.
I’m counting twenty vines connected to Vecna, which is a bad number for him to be associated with. Twenty is A. the highest roll on a twenty sided die, and B. a critical hit. If you roll a twenty on an attack role then you double the numbers you roll on the damage dice (usually- some classes have other things when you roll a twenty). And if you roll a twenty elsewhere, like say a death save (when you are at zero hit points and dying. You have three death saves. You fail three, you die, you succeed on three, you live.) you stabilize and gain a hit point. So if Vecna’s rolling 20′s- it’s bad. Erica rolled a 20 and beat Vecna in Hellfire. Maybe Vecna’s doing the same shit- but reversed.
The Creel house dissapates when Vecna is set on fire. The outside intervention is what made him leave. El fighting him didn’t seem to have an effect on that.
There’s something weird going on with all this. Because El looks confused as it all fades to black. When El finds people, she’s usually isolated to that person- not their surroundings. When she found Billy in season three, he was already taken by the Mind Flayer. Henry’s powers appear to be focused more on this plane than the outside world. Where as El is some what the opposite of that.
Vecna doesn’t throw Robin, Steve and Nancy across the room. Or break their arms. Most of what El does is absent in Vecna’s fighting, when he’s not in some ones head.
Sure, he’s on fire and standing- something that may indicate fire is not exactly his weakness. At least in this state- or the fire is being thrown by the wrong people. But they’re not dead, and if El were in a position like this, the people in front of would not be like that for very long.
Robin picks up the red molotov cocktail. Her (pink/red) nail polish covers the ‘four’ and we’re left with ‘Bal’.
She’s literally throwing a fucking fireball at him.
And we’re meant to notice it.
Like, we’re REALLY meant to notice it. This one shot goes on for a hot second.
We’re also meant to notice that Robin is the one throwing it. Steve’s throw wasn’t anything this. It’s the angles and timing and we’re just meant to see Robin in a way we weren't meant to see Steve. She’s got the vest, the rolled up sleeves, the red, she’s gay- all of these things are saying Will in season one- because that’s what they’re all trying to do.
But they’re not Will.
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 25.1 25.2 25.3 26 27 28 29 29.1 30 30.1 31 31.1 32 32.1 33 34 35 36 37 (To be edited)
#the lights#will byers#I HAVE WANTED TO TALK ABOUT BALFOUR FOR SO LONG#SHES LITERALLY CASTING FIRE BALL#BUT ITS NOT WORKING#AND ITS CONNECTED TO THE SNOW BALL AND THE FOUR VICTIMS#AND EVERYTHING POINTS TO WILL#NOT BEING THERE#AND MIKE ISNT THERE EITHER#AND THEYRE IMPORTANT (but mostly will)#AND THATS WHY THEY LOST
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Question for you! Since you have so many WIPs loaded in the chamber, I wanna know about some of them.
Can you give me top 3 favourites (or those you’re willing to spill the beans on) and why you like them? Bonus question if you’re stalled, why??
I am a curious cat this morning. Meow!
*Clears throat*
Top 3 Favorites, as if a creator can talk about favorites as if they were able to choose between their children...but alas it is such a task that I am willing to undertake for you.
So, top 3...top 3...hmm decisions decisions.
Well let us go in reverse order because that way I can make sure we are choosing the correct one.
Please note these are WIP titles. So the posted name will most likely change whenever I get around to it.
3. Hedge Witch Suggestions:
So this is a fic is very oof. And by that I mean is dubcon/noncon rated just because I was infuriated at the lack of this type of fic for the movie which is annoying.
Its a Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves AU fic that i wrote out in 10 days because it would not leave me alone. WC: 48k
It starts with the 10:45 friend aiding the Sheriff of Nottingham in getting what he wants, that is Lady Marian. And we know she would not do so willingly post meeting up with Robin in the Forest (she did like the sheriff. Note the dagger scene she is stumbling and fumbling in the exact way she is stumbling and fumbling to the Sheriff about Robin later. Also the Sheriff is hotter then Robin anyway so no truly lost in that department.)
Anyway, for three nights she is given a potion that makes her susceptible to suggestions and therefore the Sheriff's advances...ahe thinks she is dreaming and eventually he does win by the magic that I wish the movie had played on more, but I digress.
Its *hopefully* over graphic, and it's not something I usually admit to writing on Tumblr or even amongst many others but since it is in edits its actually a work im very proud of and had a bunch of fun writing.
2. Socialite Papers:
Bridgeton is a fabulous show, and the most appealing aspect of it is Lady Wistledown. So inspired by that and my love of Jane Austen is to do a sort of similar concept of Sense and Sensibility.
I haven't worked out the particulars but it would start with the news of Mr Dashwood's death and follow the Dashwoods into Devonshire and the effects being felt by both sides of the country.
It will include things such as:
The move of the sisters
Willoughby
Edward's Engagement
London
Cleveland.
Because there is such thing as gossip being based upon observation.
I will not spoil the ending tho, because I have not yet decided on how it will end (per usual)
Now moving on to the top one that I really wanna get to, but its going to take forever because either has to do with Filmography and I have come to find that I really dislike watching movies alone anymore.
1. ACU:
If you know nothing about know this, I love Alan Rickman and while I will agree that the first time I saw him was as Severus Snape, my favorite is actually Colonel Brandon and the Sheriff of Nottingham. And I have been blessed because of the Rickmanaic Server on Discord and the lovely people I have met there.
Anyway this starts with the original crap ending, where the Sheriff dies. He was married to Marian even though they did not consumate the union (yes, yes I know i know).
Anyway, he was a pagan, and worshiped other beings and while in Christianity he would have gone to hell (though the concept of such a place didn't exist in that period but I digress) what if he didn't? What if his gods decided that he was worth saving?
Therefore, he was..and in each life (each character he's played) he lived there is something he must have had to learn and with the free will of him he had to go back and do it again, again, and again until he learns all the lessons.
It does somewhat follow the period of which his movies are set, and while some are ambiguous (aiw1&2,hitchhikers,Sweeny todd) it is very much an appreciation of his work while also being a fanatic about his growth as a person.
And the faces of the women he has loved over the time is an important factor, because it starts with a woman and must end with a woman, and while its not solely the romance that is important, I'm a romantic at heart and want to give him happiness and pain and love. Because everybody, no matter how evil or broken you are, deserves someone to love them.
Thank you so much for the asks! I love talking about my wips!
Much love,
Ren
#renee talkes wip#oh look a lovely person appeared wanting to talk about the list#the secret list#that list#mericual in the askbox#mericual-makes-them-ups#alan cinamatic universe#hedge witch's suggestion#socialite papers
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Hi! Here to ask more about Rodina. What kind of culture is there? Also is religion common place? What's the technology like?
Hi mate <3!
I am very happy to answer you and talk more about Rodinia my beloved, but before we start we must clarify something: there are animals, clearly as you saw in the moodboard there are plants, but not all beings that inhabit the planet are "humans". There are also dragons and elves, which are species of the genus homo. All of them are humanoids and look quite like us, although with their slight (sometimes more marked) differences, this to clarify certain aspects that will be mentioned later, also magic exists.
> Technology
Before the fall of the "moon", the technology was very similar to the present and even superior, futuristic as futurama or akira I suppose these could be a kind of example although space life was not a thing and aliens not exist in this universe sorry, but certainly there were fast ships, cars that fly and things like that, plus there were certain gadgets adapted to the specific needs of some group as the dragons (which often have horns, scales, even tails sometimes). Also the technological magic was weird but when the fall happens, and after the biggest disasters, that a few survive in the small piece of land that is Rodinia things change a lot.
As generations go by, a lot of knowledge is lost, sometimes due to the passage of time or the inaccessibility to certain zones and resources and other times it was intentionally by people who prefer to die without saying anything for fear of provoking "the end of the world" again. There develops a certain rejection of the most advanced technology that the three groups had before, and you could say there is a kind of "regression."
Things are more rustic, handcrafted and technical than ever, oh and mass production disappears. Oh yes, no phones, no computers, no motorcycles, no cars, and so on and so forth. Magic takes more strength when it comes to communication and other areas of life such as medicine, especially among elves. Humans, normally do not possess magic, so they must work with what they have, (some human groups are more extreme than others in this) and dragons do have magic but for reasons of faith, they are in fact more determined to use only their hands to survive than non-magicians.
One story that explores this issue is Requiem for Arkan, where Lullaby tries to explore many of the forbidden zones to "recover" this lost technology, and Lyns, her friend, is an inventor who tries to figure out how the relics she brings, work and invents others.
Ah!
Here comes the heaviest issue.
> Religion
Religion is a very big issue in this story. Our beloved main antagonist: Saturno (Eternal Spring), in fact starts a kind of religious cult. Most of the stories do not occur immediately when the second moon falls, it is after, much of the approach is that life can continue after a great destruction and how the aftermath impacts on life. A direct consequence is the birth of the dominant religion in Rodinia.
The gods of Rodinia, called the "mystics", do not have a defined form, the few times they have tried to describe them you get descriptions of eldritch horror, but no one is very interested in knowing their face. They are known to be "voices" of the earth, who can only manifest themselves through dreams, visions or the elements (water, earth, fire, air, light and darkness) and are credited by the three groups (especially the elves) for saving their lives after the destruction of the world they knew. Rodinia for some is sometimes seen as a kind of earthly paradise, and this vision has its credence I must say because it is a very biodiverse land with many climates in its interior and too much vegetation, although there are also those who say it is the opposite.
As I said the elves more than dragons or humans believe too much in the mystics, and they do not lack reasons to do so. The elven kingdoms are located where the soul shrines exist and have the reaper children (yes, it is somewhat related to the story: The children of Death). Quick summary, all beings have souls and fulfill a cycle to keep the earth alive, so the elves arrived where the souls lie, but no one can manipulate them more than the reaper children.
The magic is elemental in Rodinia; an elf with dark magic, an elf with light magic. One day began to be born children of these magics more powerful than the others, able to handle the souls and make the cycle is fulfilled. They were forced to live as reapers exclusively. They are separated from their families and are largely prevented from having an identity or personality and opinions of their own.
For better or worse, the elves are surrounded by phenomena that neither dragons or humans live, one of the reasons why there is a certain myth that they are the chosen people, and basically believe they are better than others in that sense, they are also a theocratic society with a very marked hierarchy to say the least and declared themselves guardians of the universal balance.
Dragons also believe in mystics a lot, and they feel guilty, because they were before the self-declared guardians of the world and well, we already said that a moon fell?, so they feel they must do penance (Yes I was raised catholic, how did you know? <3), they are a very small group, with very different customs than elves and humans, and they live in clans. They know exactly what happens with "the cycle" so they dedicate themselves to live quietly in the shadows, so much that humans think they are extinct and no longer exist.
Humans are a particular case, there are groups that believe in mystics, others are atheists, of the vibe "we survive by chance, there is no higher power that would like to save us" and live their lives without worrying about it, or there are those who created the cult of death, as they have come to see the reapers of the elves, so they perceive death as the only certainty of life and worship it.
> Culture
Culture is an almost impossible question, because this does not vary only between dragons, elves and humans, but between themselves, I know how it is but it needs its own post, but I will say here some curious facts as I remember them in compensation although culture has naturally already leaked out at various times in my previous answers:
-It is 100% true that humans think that dragons are all dead. There are scientists who are dedicated to studying "their fossils", their vestiges, among other things, and they want to reconstruct their "past existence." For me it's hilarious because three protagonists are dragons, and they come into contact with humans and humans ask them "are all of you still alive!?" and the dragons are like "actually I'm your neighbor but I used to go out in the sun every time you took a nap". The elves aren't sure if the dragons are still alive or not, they don't really care either.
-Dragons are shapeshifters, so there are dragon dragons, don't worry and they are also too different from their other companions, they take care of baby dragons communally, for example. They are children of the clan, not of their parents, even more: parents? what is that!
The clan is your family, but don't do anything romantic with each other either, you are fine without having that. And they are quite fine actually between them, although later there are problems, but it's more clan vs. clan, than something internally you know?
-Elves have a very marked hierarchy and are the ones who dress more pompous. There is something between renaissance- classics- courts- palaces- the porfiriato happening there but they are adorable with their super elaborate costumes.
-There is no school, there are unions for manual trades. So it's a privilege to know how to read and write, some of my characters are literate as adults or teenagers and others never learned but they're fine like that.
-EVERYONE VALUES LIFE ABOVE EVERYTHING ELSE. Murdering people is like the worst, and totally unnecessary, just torture them or lock them up, dude /half joke
- We have the day of death, bc I need it.
-Primavera (Spring) humans accept gays and nb - trans people also a large percentage of them are vegan - vegetarian. Im not joking.
-Humans can have magic, if they have an elf or half-elf ancestor in their family. It is a recessive gene.
-Many couples, even heterosexuals, never get married. That is something more common for rich people or with position.
...
Tag list: @multi-lefaiye @addisons-damn-dialogue @written-in-gold
#AnswerIka#tales of rodinia#wrtiblr#wip posting#original story#world building#writing#wip story#original worlds#original characters
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Belos' interest in luz back during YBOS takes on another aspect now we know more about Philip's opinions on witches. At the time it made people think he was something other than human himself or had a special fascination with the species.
Turns out, he's just that racist, he can't help but highlight luz's nature as another human after centuries of being the only one in the demon realm
"Oh thank god, another human! Finally! You wouldn't believe what it's been like living amongst these filthy monsters..."
And the ironic thing is, between Luz's ethnicity, bisexuality and problems with authority as a woman, she's pretty much a walking slap in the face to a colonial American from the 1600, but since belos has spent so much time as the only human around he's willing to overlook the 'small' stuff
Ah yes, back in the dark ages when we knew nothing about Belos. I for one thought the ”Angel Realm” theory was kinda cool. Though at the time I figured that Belos’ interest in Luz as a human was because humans in the Demon Realm were very rare, possibly unheard of before. And now we know that it is indeed incredibly rare for human to find their way into the Demon Realm, with only three (to us) known cases over the last four hundred years. That being Philip, his brother and Luz.
But indeed, every interaction between the two take on a different meaning now. I’ve pointed out some of the parallels and differences between them, with both of them being humans lost in another realm, both seeking the power of magic through glyphs and to build a portal home. The main difference between them being that Philip is power hungry maniac with certainly more than a screw loose and Luz is an empathetic and good-hearted hero who made friends with the people of the Demon Realm rather than manipulating and using them for her own gains.
You’re right, of course that Belos, being from the time he’s from (I say as if there aren’t any horribly bigoted people anymore. I wish) maybe, probably, definitely don’t have the most favorable opinion on Luz. Though I imagine that having been separated from the rest of humanity for so long and forced to live among people he considers beneath him, Belos is likely to highlight their similarities rather than any differences.
Once again, I’m mildly entertained by him coming to the realization though…
Belos: ”Ah, finally, another human after all these years. We have a lot in common, you know. We bo- wait… crab maiden?”
Luz: ”What?”
Belos: ”What?”
Luz: ”What was that you said about another human?”
Belos: ”Nothing.”
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i'm just gonna: ☀️ anon. There.
Anyway: I can see where you're coming from and like I said it has been forever since I played the Answer and I don't /hate/ it. But I guess I always had an issue with Yukari, because she seemed to me needlessly mean to others sometimes? Like she was right and others are wrong so its fine if she can be mean? But that is just what I /remember/. And while yeah, characters are allowed to be mean and not perfect and allways kind, especially female characters, because GOD FORBID women do anything- it also doesn't mean I have to LIKE her. I guess it's because to me Yukari felt like someone who would unironically call someone having fun "cringe", which for me personally is a dealbreaker. But Persona ALWAYS had this issue with having the male bestie be the buttmonkey of jokes, some kind of pervert and dunked on by the other characters and Junpei is still having it the best?? (Yosuke, Ryuji, you boys deserved so so much better).
In any case, I guess I couldnt give her as much leeway or credit because her personality didn't really mesh with me. But now being older I also think that it is BECAUSE of the writing. Persona Games have all extremely low points and extreme high points. The entire first palace is great in persona 5, Persona 4s social links with the Dojima family are really gripping and persona 3 is still one of my faves because it just came at the very right time in my life. (Who would've thought that a game about DEATH as its core theme would SAVE me.) But the writing is not always very consistent and the characters really suffer for it, usually for very stupid reasons like """""humor""""". I guess I am just trying to say that I get what you mean, but Yukari is just not my fave so I guess it is easier for me to lose patience. Like there are characters I'd go to war for in the persona series, so its easier for me to see the GOOD writing aspects, while others might greatly dislike them and therefore have a far easier time seeing the writing from more negative perspectives.
But your analysis has really given me some food for thought. I will definitely try to pay it more attention on a replay!
Oh ONE MORE THING!!!
It always felt like Yukari was pushed as a sort of "main love interest" which always kinda felt off to me when persona games do that. maybe its because i am gay and therefore see myself more representated by same sex couples/queer couples, maybe its because the persona developers believe men and women cant just be friends it always has to be something romantic, maybe its because the romantic writing always seemed forced and reliant on little events like in a romance shoujo manga- idk, but that was also something that rubbed me the wrong way. But that has been issues in P3-P5 throughout. And i feel like p3 got it the worst??? At least in later games you could opt for just a friendship even tho the writing still made it APPARENT THAT THE GIRLS ARE IN LOVE WITH YOU SPECIAL BOY!!! Sorry Yukari, that's not really your fault, thats a systemic fault.
yoo valid as hell though i get wym. if the character isnt for you then they arent for you and again, im not here to convince you otherwise of anything!
when you say it like that i can see why yukari's a bit of a mixed bag. i still like her tho she kinda a baddie and as a guy i like when girls are kinda mean to me so agree to disagree
ah yes the persona lovers arcana girl suffering from pushed "main love interest" syndrome.. i havent played any other aside from p3 and p5 but i heard rise gets worse. but like you said it is a systemic fault. to be real with you none of the romance options in p3 really enticed me despite 3 being hailed as ""the best dating sim"" out of all three modern games. maybe i just need to play portable. or be able to romance ryoji as makoto lmaoo (i saw a screenshot with ryoji saying he'd like you regardless of gender and. 😭 thanks for nothing i guess atlus?)
hard agree on the persona series as a whole having a tendency of doing something really good but then!!........ not. sticking the landing at all. theres so much to be said about it god these games are a hot mess on average its funny. as much as i adooore it, p3's pacing was so ass that i got severe tonal whiplash on oct 4. couldnt even begin to grieve cause i was so shocked
if you ever replay the answer (which. godspeed to you thats a whole grindfest i wouldnt wish on my worse enemy) i hope youre able to have fun and find new things about it to like! overall we can agree that its good so theres that. talk to you soon o7
#ans#aishi.txt#yukari takeba#persona 3#persona 3 fes#p3#p3p#god i love talking about p3. or anything persona right now#please send me more asks about persona#or persona characters#the answer#☀️ anon#cute btw#hope you have a great day <3#wait realized i didnt really answer but i adore ryuji's writing. junpei close second. havent played 4 but i think yosuke is uhm.#bro got the drive i guess...... cant really say anything since i havent played but his internalized homophobia kinda ticks me off a bit#that being said it will always be my moral obligation to like and rt souyo art for my friend who likes p4#like according to bun yosuke's alright and i believe them#ryuji solos in terms of bro bestie homie types though.#in my humble opinion
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The Algorithm pushed a video at me titled something like "The seven grossest things worshipped by people for some reason", and I was terribly disappointed to discover they meant in video games — because people have absolutely worshipped some gross things! Off the top of my head, there's:
Vertumnus (or Voltumna): the original god of Rome, a vegetation god of the city's primal swamp. He's emphasized, above and beyond other gods, as a shapeshifter; his main surviving myth is about how he turned himself into a repulsive and ancient old woman in order to seduce a dryad. From Ovid: "Vertumnus' hot kisses ill suit an old woman's disguise"
Priapus, Greek god of fertility, consistently portrayed as a misshapen, deformed man who is just swingin' pipe; in most depictions, his penis is actually the largest of his limbs
Sterquilinus, another early Roman god, considered possibly an aspect of Saturn, who is sometimes delicately described as the god of odors; his name comes from the Latin "stercus", which means manure — yes, this is the god of poop
Glycon, a serpent god worshipped by a large cult in second century Rome, and by Alan Moore today. Lucian wrote at the time that the Glycon cult was a grift by its prophet, Alexander of Abonoteichos, and that the vast and terrifying serpent that the cult was worshipping was, in fact, a hand puppet. (Moore says that that's exactly what makes Glycon a good god to worship, as he is "not likely to start believing that glove puppet created the universe or anything dangerous like that.")
Tokoyo-no-kami, a caterpillar enshrined in 644 CE by shaman Ōube-no-Ō, with the usual promises that if you gave the insect all your money, the poor would become rich and the old become young. Ōube-no-Ō was soon shut down by the local lord Hata-no-Kawakatsu, and the cult immediately switched to worshipping Kawakatsu; after all, what better proof of great divinity could there be than defeating Tokoyo-no-kami?
Ah Puch, Maya god of death, a decomposing corpse with exposed ribs and spine, and whose alternate title is Kisin, the Flatulent
The video mentioned, of course, Cthulhu, and there are people out there — mostly various flavors of chaos magicians and offshoots of the Church of Satan — who claim to worship the various Lovecraftian deities and aliens
(And of course there's that obscure deity that's somehow three people but only one god, who is explicitly beyond comprehension, who despite being omniscient, omnipotent, and omnibenevolent still created puppy cancer and fish that swim up your urethra, ordered such thorough genocides that even the victims' farm animals had to be killed, and will condemn you to eternal firey punishment if you don't worship — correctly — the person of him that he impregnated a 14 year old girl with.)
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“To tempt Gods Providence by fire”
A rispetto sequence
I
Seventeen years away, my hart I then begins
a journeys, here assurance need not agree,
that passions and streight through the breath in
arias of death his Fellows; from which a spring
danced when came melissa, O pardon their
Lord. To tempt Gods Providence by fire. Organ
in me ye playne, for father’s wrath, by all delight.
Or change from love? Into her heart than she.
II
From thy fellowship in the Desperate Fame.
Throb with my plaint to her; now, young Corinth—O
the blythest bird upon their Taxes double
Danger bring? Venus is taught. But my Corinna,
come; and above the wedded dame, august
her beauty was as right. What say Good-bye; and
now what no her tongue aspire. Rain on the more
account, for Ten to One, in forbidden fires.
III
Desire of wonder at her left, a child
is frayle corruption, that his Anguish of
his Faction of the world may streams of man? Tell
her sacred peace and plum, and dewdrops wet; and
said … Nay, we are onely completer; for
nothing else these halls, and yawn’d a good deal with
Sally Brown! Whilst Ben he was no sins of Royal
Robes, and blew the languid fool, who was left.
IV
In any chronicles of dress were not complains
before. But that very fair; the which tempred
still the rest, with such a yoke She danc’d along
the twilight wings, for ages, taught. Yet let
them on the rolling the loves attend lyke captiued
are so firmely, too, when shall be there
but we will that ancient Hag of Fate. My stockings
there survived his fear in a female dress.
V
Lifting me, where upon they St. Fatal
interview, by all aspect, but Thanks, ’ she least as
truth, and cut this the Curse of hers did close implide,
with them Joyn’d all this world one way and
another, husband, like a Pen to step into
Heav’n inspiring I might be, or naething
to end that to thrall forts which she doth more dread,
until the funeral direct, with his Teeth.
VI
The hours my loues might his Darling Son? The hand
on a Minion! Truth the highest way of change
eyes, resign’d, and said he, hold up your hands do
not me my love some rest; all the green-recessed
woodland air! And, last not ask me with Skill, for
humane Good old Cause by whom he was unseen:
and drear! Breathes. And often round. Now, young monarch,
till ioy makes us cowards the pass’d for spill.
VII
From his knees that your eyes in the chace forsooke,
my hart, that my exceed the queen-priest throne, his
Highness’ years, but Save me most regulated
charming with vile adders sting, in one ship is
Reproof, and overmuch of a Good Son, who
had the court’ said Cyril, Madam, all the
reveries of Jacob Behmen with cinnamon;
despair print thy Soul, oh Taper of the pain.
VIII
Your gentle Lycius! Learning unto their heart,
with the Day, misguide the Justice a Seráb.
And harass’d well for better not before. Most
sorts of flowers, the virgin purest lipp’d, yet
in vain. You are the years for Monarch tame, and
that my zone unmanned me: the Land. For shame! And
acted on, when she took Juanna, whose throng, too
feeble vassal blest, by new unfolds cleanly.
IX
Ah, what woe after long maintain’d where thereby
much great hope I well find her lord were said the
loves to swarm their very Garment-hem Pollution!
Ring; some said he love the gloom of all
countenance his crime, can reason, shame loade mine eyes,
a lover yet, tis after fresh arrivals
threat for earthly eye: that bosom worn, which we
stands the low: for lacking it, that mercy too.
X
This side,—so beautiful old rhyme in praises
are taught to witless walls! As sacred through the
porch, with all its watery sun&three were constrayn.
Just as he’s mounted—he and Absál the
Father worth nor rues my stonisht hart stood at
bold Defiance, hate whate’er the rocks once-a-
boy pilfering me withall. So woful, and
sew for peace, an hundredth part his future Race?
XI
What guyle is th’ author of my kind?
Would not the more my love can be no longer
Just. Feed their first she slept in hand my brother
articles of vnualewd price: far passing the
demons of thunderbolt hangs silent, shy, and
from Heaven—from then she seems the ghost away.
Of the scientific animals are the
Sun upon Designs, and for God, not the right!
XII
And children, ran before from them fills the roadside,
succulent peaches to be broke his might
sit beside juan had no great loues prayses form.
And in hue could e’er he did not with fire the
brow of earthly lyres, while at themselves in
my selfe for euer to enjoy! Not grace is her
breast: her neck regal white till the Elves and Names
assured to haste, while, like a peace shall haue tride.
XIII
His Youth, thy disencumbred Soul mounts up, and
beckon from the skye. So long, dead called Beauties
treasure, and in the blight on my face press’d. Till
the golden tongue that runneth often doe redound,
as is a Godlike Kings are made: he takes
place; they could he gain, his vanquish’d days, had eyes
aghast the Beadsman, affianced, scale with carven
imag’ries good Angela, by the heart.
XIV
And won his pinions lay, and mantle, which we
Right, from far where there died at his Highness, there
that tongue. And slight but hastily subscribed the
Branch that French novel? And yet the Statesman we
abhor, but not stuck all exceeding want; more
rich, who Heaven, and scatter my sins that thought—
meet, if the Crowd: that cluster’d in all her names
in which in the memory of Civil Wars.
XV
And choke on me were a mermaid now, for this
chirrup at her glauncing sight, the fainting to
mine, condemn it; but I turn a lady’s eyes;
mine eye: but though it sounds of his strength was his
due? To Beauties peece for me to mow: and yet
the serpent, but effectually is out; for
in your skill, some in the heathen Priests the transient
roses at first appeared his phantasies.
XVI
The musick, which you graced in thinke at an
Eurydice; for that, waxing wanton o’er the matter
than what a flint is free? I shall it bee
that fail to beare: so weake my sorrow out of
saddest words, embrace my bane. Can reason, shame,
and wife, a sullen might for her whisk the stain’d
where when those on the beginning, full of silence
seal’d. A death-like silence in. And splendour.
XVII
Save to and from piety, or from birth or
growth, is more strong in Corinth talk: over
tedious absence of Angels from cruelty
she wore a wannish fire sparks, without-end hour
whilst I, myself—and you. Besides, the creature
newly-caged, commenced the un-apple. Her
heads were Useless, lasting chain; and her wil be
the numerous wood the grey downs dulled to save.
XVIII
In her snowy browes lyke dying tone, but
I, vnbid, fetch in May, when my toung tipt with awfull
Lord. On the features goodly colour of
night; in vain,—to bless nor curse to hang on her
sound sleep disclos’d the place forbear to make vnpitteid
spoile. With his Prerogative. With lesser
chill it hold? Now clear’d, but Save me nothing
their faults with tapers comes soothingly with scorn.
XIX
Permit me, Julia, I bring to do with the
think, do allow life has not violently wake.
Votes shall Ever-wanting sense, which some pines that
old man? For had thy maisters keep his return
and silent grown, I have given signal ta’en
their piques, they likest be, or what her dream’d
a dream, of walking in a slumberous they
are more to the firmer will, that evening brest.
XX
Night by lesson which they had arrived before;
for which did her form create to be forgiv’n.
Flatter all utter’d by a Niggard no: now
will I, with a high hand, she writing on her
I stand who knows. There in want or peril, therefore:
now warm gules on Madeline! Our mother;
so Cantemir can they steps or more my
Eyes the Seasons train: from Earthy Vapours rise!
XXI
Then hangeth all fair theoric’ it appears;
barzillai thou canst not the heauenly fury doth
hart and Stars and Dreams; lo, this place, the most him
so hugely stood in madness near and hate, I
feel estrange, that heuenly spheare of Justice draws;
constrayne. Soft as homeward I from heavens Anoint
his lofty looke on it streight back. If not
happens, that he had for love is liberty.
XXII
A Hand to Loyalty were two lovers of
thy love doth worke that with disturb you something
so whence flee; foole, who made new porridge for
injured lover can hope my verse vowd to
eternity I forgive? Promiscuous use
of Sorrow the sweet soul, were taught: let theyr snaky
heads the custom, and you fayre, misdeeme so
fair as fair, ’ said Cyril, having piously.
XXIII
And Madeline asleepe thou must no more by
our long hall glittering taketh. The harbor
whose his first day the golden dreamt of man, the
promise! And is he gone, and thunder shrines all
with two tame leopards couches, toilets—and much
I fear, her mouth in waves, your sweet pleasures in
hers, am profanation far with all you
fairly. Which cost little worth, and zoned with Me!
XXIV
For lusty sprinkled on Sally she did agree,
in mine eyes, where you to soothe my pillow
took their tedious riddles of vnualewd price:
by loue we weigh’d her cruell might coin, the gift of
closing gainst the String of my prison I will
it proves you may lose your Foliage, and whole
oceans roll! Be ye sure builds her selfe and loue
embrace the tangled mind, I starue my bonie Jean.
XXV
-Felt plagues, of hell, vpon the helpless demonstration:
follow’d taper tremble in mine eyes most
lowe, I crau’d their Witnesses improv’d. And often
knit, my kerchief transgression, growling and
joy so pure and unload all good Barzillai
thou canst though in Cupid’s college gown, th’
admiring Croud are dazled with dewy locks,
which open shone: upon her declined the must.
XXVI
Awake, for he could have them is double with
Spirit, until he stars from our natural, the
Bad, turn Rebell, and spite and we as rich and
sad pensiuenesse. Then, riding up a lower,
much I might blush, and each who dare be lou’d by
might? On Principle of Declining Age: behold
that close intent on with such odious
to the lava ravish’d extremely to me.
XXVII
A simple truth, howe’er kisses, sweet devized
of loue, while praying, trembling, in the rocks,
and a bonie Bell. Where gainst each height that strength was
to stone. Swift to his Hand a Vare of pupils;
she may entangle in the lonely that old
Florian; have you depart, despoyld of war
the sober part, with those, when she scream from the
center. The stars do I my judgment pleasure.
XXVIII
He had a fever late dismayed. Bright assert
none lordlier than the slacken’d in this faultlesse
renowne? Like and stormy seas and so rare a
wit, requires it, they durst his Memory,
miraculous thou wrongest in to close of and
float in crystalline fragments, but by my
Paternal sunshine where I my selfe dilate, as
if there he spoak: few words masculine perfume.
XXIX
Their Gods disgrace: that purg’d by boyling o’r: and
even I in this and tempter, a forbid
thee of angelic kind, I shall Rest, and every
monarchs for they put beside juanna, their
prepare and death. And he had bene slayne, throgh
contemplation of the Plot: yet, Corah, thou
the gentle grace arraid; and only vocal
with cold, like a thousand averse from the Tree.
#poetry#automatically generated text#Patrick Mooney#Markov chains#Markov chain length: 7#141 texts#rispetto sequence
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