#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.
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HC. Reze has a soft voice — the kind of voice that, the more you listen to it, lulls you into a false sense of security, into a trance, hopelessly lost by the sound of her voice. Like a soothing lullaby. Like a modern day siren song, enticing any wandering souls to their doom. &. That’s the point. She wants you to feel safe &. welcome &. at home, ignoring the tight coil wrapped around your proverbial neck.
#with that in mind; i'm sure she has a *lovely* singing voice uvu#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.
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Request ❤️ Can I please get fic or hcs for horny dilf!Jotaro trying to seduce Jolyne’s friend who is in like her 20s. When she finally gives in she just gently doms him with lots of teasing because she wants him a complete mess. I love sub dilf!Joot sksksksk
NOT SFW/ 18+ ONLY
warnings: afab reader, fem pronouns, sub jotaro, BIG age gap (20+ years, reader’s implied to be in her very early twenties, jotaro is a few years older than stone ocean jotaro).
He’s pretending he’s not staring, as all three of you eat dinner again. You’ve been staying with Jolyne for a few days, now, and every single day her father’s eyes on you are a little more obvious. You’re not the oblivious kind at all; you’d seen the swallow when he’d been introduced to you, the darting of his eyes as he’d tried not to look at your body in your dress - you might not be the most experienced person in the whole world, but you’re certainly experienced enough to know that Jotaro Kujo’s interested.
You flirt a little bit, when Jolyne’s not around. You wear your skirts a little shorter and your shirts a little lower, you smile and flutter your eyelashes, you accidentally bump into his chair with your hip when you need to leave the room. Jotaro makes an attempt to flirt back, too (that’s what keeps you going, pushing him just a little bit further). He asks for your help holding a ladder when he needs to do some DIY around the house (Jolyne rolls her eyes and sighs and asks why it can’t just wait). He holds your gaze a little longer. He passes you things over the table, his fingers brushing yours for just a little longer than they should--
He’s not subtle, but he never does it when Jolyne is watching. Their relationship is fragile, and even he has enough emotional intelligence to know not to knock it off its axis just yet. So it’s quiet, rushed little things. Your flirts are not as clumsy as his - you would never expect a man who looks like that, at his age, to be clumsy with love, but there it is - but they are undoubtedly there, simmering beneath the surface. It’s a fun game to play - not quite letting him catch on. Teasing him.
And then, Jolyne is suddenly called away because her mother is sick and needs someone to look after her (“Nothing serious,” Jolyne chirps, “but she needs someone to handle the day to day stuff for a few days! No sweat!”), and after she’s checked several times that it’s okay to leave you there - your own home is a few states away, having college friends can be like that sometimes - you find yourself alone in the house with Professor Jotaro Kujo. And he . . . well. If you’d thought his attempts were clumsy when he was attempting to be covert with Jolyne around, they are clumsier when it’s simply you and him.
He doesn’t come right out and say it, though it’s obvious that he wants you. He avoids you for a day, awkward, flushing when you greet him or need to ask him questions - and then, the day after, he seems to swallow his pride. He stays in your vicinity. He watches you, and speaks to you, and asks you questions - and when you come down for dinner one day in a dress that’s a little tighter than normal, he swallows. When he speaks to you, his voice is thick, and you know exactly why;
“That looks nice on you,” he says, a grunt. You know by now that he’s not verbose; if one word will do, Jotaro sees no point in using twenty. Still - it’s unusual of him to comment on. He doesn’t notice when Jolyne changes her hair to six different wild colours, or when she wears clothes with obscene (but hilarious) captions scrawled across them. You smile at him through lower lashes.
Almost provocatively, you run a hand down one side, emphasising your hip and thigh.
“You like it?” You ask him. “I wasn’t sure--”
“No,” he says, and there’s the swallow again. His skin has flushed. You can tell that he wants to tear his eyes away from you, but they’re dark. “No, it looks . . . you look nice--”
“I was going to take dinner upstairs, if it’s alright--” You say to him, and almost immediately he starts, his hand reaching out towards you as if to touch your wrist, his tone dark and slow and attempting to be seductive despite the fact that he’s sweating bullets about how much he wants you--
“Eat with me,” he says, his words slow as if he’s trying to think about them before he says something he’ll regret. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him - his composure slipping, all because of a dress that shows too much thigh and the fact that you’ve been gently nibbling at the frayed edges of his composure to let loose his desire for weeks.
Your lips curl into a smirk as you take the seat next to him, your bare knee nudging his leg under the table (he takes a breath in through gritted teeth). Your voice is very, very, very soft when you say;
“Mr Kujo, I think there’s something you’re hungrier for then dinner.”
~
When you kiss him, he melts - for such a big man, he’s easy to tease and tug along behind you until you’re entering the forbidden domain of his bedroom. It’s easy to put your smaller hands on his shoulders and push him to sit on the bed, comfortably fitting your hips between his muscled thighs, kissing him with slow, burning hunger. Your teeth nip at his lower lip, suckle on the skin (he tastes like sea salt), your fingers wrapping around the nape of his neck and tangling in his dark hair. His hat is discarded - by you, naturally - with a good natured huff of laughter against his lips - and then, you give his hair a tug, and he groans.
Oh, so he likes to be pushed around a little bit?
You’re not at all averse to that.
Another bite, Your body presses closer to him, your pelvis pressing against the heat in his snakeskin trousers (he dresses so strangely - then again, it’s not as if Jolyne is the peak of normalcy). He groans again, his hips involuntarily flexing against you as if in search of more friction from your body - but, laughing, you pull away.
“Stay there and be good,” you tell him, smirking, stepping back. Your fingers go to the hem of your dress. You’re agonisingly slow in removing the tight fabric, your hips wiggling, your body feeling suddenly powerful and new under Jotaro’s worshipful gaze. His chest is heaving, his shoulders moving up and down as he tries to control himself, his eyes unable to be torn from every new exposed inch of you. Your bra. Jotaro bucks forward at this, straining as if he wants to touch you - but with a shake of your head and a click of your tongue in reprimand, he controls himself.
He’s so obedient. What a good boy. You’ll reward him for that.
And then, your underwear. Sliding over thighs, you look down and see the damp patch (you cannot argue that Jotaro’s bumbling attempts at flirting and the clear way he wishes for more of you is like a carrot in front of a horse for your libido) - and, a soft laugh escaping your lips, you make sure that Jotaro sees the dampness too. And that he tastes it, as you delicately pick up the underwear with two fingers and get onto your knees in front of him, fingers pushing your balled up underwear into his open mouth.
“Don’t be too loud, now,” you tell him, earnestly serious. He makes a muffled noise of agreement, his knuckles tight on the edge of the bed as he watches you reach for his belts and the concealed zip of the snakeskin (those trousers are skin-tight - you wonder where he bought them). Innocently, as you reach into his underwear, you say; “What if someone comes home early?”
His cock - and Jesus Christ, that’s a lot of man to be handling - twitches in your fingers. Oh, so he’s getting off to the idea of you being a good two decades years younger than him. Cute. He’s flushed, so he’s obviously embarrassed by it - but it’s not like you can say the fact that he’s older and more experienced and your friend’s dad, reduced to putty in your hands, isn’t turning you on, is it?
You pull him out of his underwear and you have to take a moment just to appreciate the size and weight of him in your fingers; the heaviness of his shaft, the way that his head is leaking precome, pink and needy - you reach forward and lick a slow line across him, relishing the taste of Jotaro in your mouth. The groan he lets forth is mostly kept quiet by your underwear stuffed in his mouth--
Mostly.
You chide him with the clicking tongue again, circling that same admonishing instrument around the head, licking and suckling at him like an ice cream instead of doing anything so brash as taking him into your mouth and earnestly sucking his cock. You want to - but he’s so cute, flushed and needy and submissive for you like this! One of your hands slides up his thigh, keeping leverage on it (he groans when your fingers dig into muscled flesh) as you take more and more of him into the cavern of your mouth.
He’s big enough you need the other hand to stay on his cock, leisurely pumping him at a pace that matches your lazy mouth. His hips twitch, his fingers flexing on the bedcovers, whimpers lost amongst the damp lace in his mouth as you give him your attention but simply not enough of it--
After a few moments, you pull back. Your eyes are lazy and lidded.
“Not enough?” You ask him, playing at innocence. Jotaro looks down at you with dark eyes framed with blacker, longer lashes than he has any right to. You know that the piteous look means; ‘more, please’ - but you still want to hear it straight from his mouth.
You rise to your feet and delicately pull the lace from inside his mouth. His cock juts forward, wet with your saliva, nudging needily at your bare thighs.
“Well?” You ask him. His face, still flushed, looks into yours - he’s struggling with the words. He’s not articulate by any means - and you don’t think that he realises how cute he is. “Do you need more?”
He breaks the gaze. He’s almost bashful when he says;
“C-can I touch you?”
“What else are you going to say?” You ask, tossing your hair, challenge in your gaze and tone. He bites his lip but offers;
“Please?”
“Hmm,” you say, pretending to think about it. “Well . . . Alright. But . . . one condition.”
He nods, fervently, his hands already moving from the bed’s edges to hover over your hips. You smirk wickedly. Once more, your hands rise to his shoulders - but this time, you forcibly push him down so he’s splayed beneath you. Your finger slides over his lips as you say, very soft and quiet--
“You can touch me all you want, but I get to set the pace.”
Your knees are already on the bed, straddling him, his cock pressing against damp folds. There’s a roaring in your stomach; a need to have him desperate and clinging to you and panting as you fuck him. Oh, there’s something that makes you feel so powerful in the way he’s looking at you; the fact that he’s still hovering over your hips, too intimidated by your raw power to hold onto you. You’re sure that nobody who looks at Jotaro Kujo on the street imagines him being the submissive half of a relationship - but it’s so wonderful that he is.
“What do you think?” You ask, biting your lip, arching your back and moving your hips just so, so the head of his cock (sensitive, slick) rubs against your folds and nudges your clit. He shudders at the sensation. “Do you agree to my terms?”
He’s breathless, his voice low and gritty, a voice that slides down your spine and makes your toes curl.
“Yes--”
Your grin is more ferocious than sexy, but as Jotaro’s hands land shyly on your hips and he blushes harder and turns his face away in embarrassment, just for a moment, you know that he has no complaints.
His cock sinks an inch into you, slowly, as you lower yourself further and further down-- breathlessly, half-laughing, you reward him.
“Good boy.”
#writing#jotaro kujo#not sfw#not sfw text//#sub jotaro#afab reader#fem pronouns#power imbalance for ts#age gap for ts#Anonymous
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spark . reze &. rei collecting purikura for their photo albums. reze &. rei linking their gameboys together to play tetris. reze &. rei sharing a chocolate cake or a fruity parfait at the local cafe. reze &. rei going window shopping together. reze &. rei going to the beach and dipping their toes in the sand by the shore. reze &. rei sharing a popcicle as they walk aimlessly around the city, talking about nothing and whatever. reze &. rei- (っ˘ω˘ς )
#primordyalsoul#yesss this friendship means the *world* to me#it's important for reze to have a bestie u__u#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#* v. » leave the past / find nowhere; clowns all around you (nge).#rei tag.
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HC. Reze gives off Aquarius vibes — the astrological sign associated with nonconformity, rebellion, flight, &. freedom ( ironically, most of what Reze lacks in her actual life; but, things she represents in the greater narrative — her appearance marks a shift in Denji’s story ).
All this to say that *I* believe her birthday would land on Feb. 14th ( Valentine’s Day ). A girl both saved &. doomed by love. By compassion.
#what's fujimoto gonna do? prove me wrong??#she's *my* oc now#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.
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CHARACTER OUTLINE.
FLAWS.
moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | manipulative | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power-hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | overthinker | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | perfectionist | pessimistic | naive
STRENGTHS.
honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty | funny
SKILLS & HOBBIES.
art | acting | astronomy | animals | archery | sports | belly dancing | bird watching | blacksmithing | boating | calligraphy | camping | candle making | casino gambling | ceramics | racing | chess | music | cooking | crochet | weaving | exercise | swordplay | fishing | gardening | ghost hunting | ice skating | magic | engineering | building | inventing | leather-working | martial arts | meditation | origami | parkour | people watching | swimming | puppetry | pyrotechnics | quilting / sewing | reading / collecting | shopping (with other people) | socializing | storytelling | writing | traveling | exotic dancing | singing | yoga | gaming | surfing
tagged by: @primordyalsoul :* <3 tagging: everybody! if you see this, do it ~ ♥
#( dash games. )#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#help; she doesn't have many hobbies#such a sad girl
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HC. To add more onto this post, Reze’s fondest memories, in general, are in Japan. She is still surveilled by the state; but, it’s not to the obscene degree it is in the motherland — she was at least afforded some small freedoms like staying in her own apartment, &. having a part-time job. She discovered her love for coffee because of this; expanded her palette to different kinds of experiences, such as the music she enjoys listening to &. developing her own sense of style. Tiny victories.
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#yea... this is me responding to making myself sad u__u#why can't i pick normal muses kankfnr
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meta + childhood .
SEND ME A TOPIC. ( accepting )
HC. Reze was taken away by the Soviet Union when she was a child. She was an orphan — no family to claim her, no track record to trace her path; never cared for, never protected. Ripe to be manipulated with zero consequences. She was only five years old. For most of her life, she was "raised" in a special government program unknown to the public at large, subject to harsh military training &. cruel scientific experiments. A vessel was needed for the sole purpose of implanting a portion of the Bomb Devil's body in order to fulfill their goals, in order to win the war. She was only fourteen years old. Violated to the point of no return.
There is no childhood to speak of. There is hardly a person behind the shell she was molded into. Neither a city mouse or a country mouse; but, a lab rat.
In her fondest memories, there is a pool — where she learned how to swim; &. where she taught Denji how to swim. This is the closest experience she has had to enjoying her youth.
#glasgcw#we're really goin thru it now#meta posting.#* answered » i’m the biggest hit on his stage.#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#child abuse mention /
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Meta + gun devil ( cause i’m so creative )
SEND ME A TOPIC. ( accepting )
HC. oh, gun devil? that's deadass her bestie right there. they share hand creams, paint each other's nails, have sleepovers, talk about boys~-
all joking aside, the bomb devil &. the gun devil are confirmed partners; we just don't know the full extent of their partnership due to the threat of death if beam so much as elaborated on the subject. but, seeing how bombs &. guns usually go hand-in-hand, especially on matters of war &. mass destruction, their alliance should be surprising to absolutely no one.
i'd imagine that because of the gun devil's elusive nature, the bomb devil hasn't come in contact with their boi in a long while, probably years ( the late 90s were generally uneventful times, you see ). needless to say, reze ( the vessel ) probably has never come in contact with the gun devil in her life, ever. stealing the chainsaw man's heart was simply a means, the key, to appeasing this long-time alliance. the soviet union's continued existence in the csm universe would suggest the race to steal his heart is also an allusion to the cold war.
#ubiquitarian#meta posting.#* answered » i���m the biggest hit on his stage.#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#*whistles* no i didn't jus pull this out my ass (only a lil bit on the last part tho)
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HC. Fujimoto’s limited artistic capabilities be damned, I always pictured Reze to be the kind of beauty that captivates — a hypnotic allure that makes you stare for an uncomfortably long time, quietly pulls you in, ensnares you, haunts you.
#her casual appearance is part of the charm#her style is ordinary on purpose yet she still manages to stand out#now that's what we call charisma; babes!#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.
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HC. Other small ways Reze likes to spend her free time: Because it’s the year 1997, we’re heading into one of the best generations for video games; &. it goes without saying that Reze owns a GameBoy Color for the sole purpose of playing Tetris. It’s a fun activity that stimulates her brain; what’s not to love!
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#it's one of those early y2k tech that's purple and transparent where you can see the wires in the hardware <3
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spark . tag dump #3 ( the re-up ) because tumblr is so fucking lame for deleting my saved tags with these ugly ui changes-
#* visage » reze.#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#* musing » thirty minutes; a blink of an eye (facade).#* musing » thirty minutes; to alter our lives (reflection).#* ic » drabble.#* ic » this is fireworks / cherries in the sky high.#* answered » i’m the biggest hit on his stage.#* ooc » prompts.#* aes » mp3.#* aes » carousels in the sky that we shape with our eyes / casting shade; crying rain.#* ooc » out of sparks.#* ooc » promo !#* ooc » wishlist. <3#* save » ily. :* <3
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OBSCURE HEADCANONS.
Reze
what they smell like. cheap floral perfume from the konbini &. kerosene. after her shift from the café, she sometimes smells of coffee.
how they sleep. sleeping position. schedule. reze is definitely a night owl; probably survives off 4-5 hours of sleep per night ( on a good day ). she goes to sleep in the AM &. wakes up just in time for her shift at work — the café opens around 10:00 in the morning, by the way. typically, it doesn’t take her long to fall asleep ( give it about 5-10 minutes before she starts counting sheep ); however, reze is quick to wake up, as she is a sensitive sleeper easily disturbed by sudden noise or sensations. her bedroom has to be engulfed in darkness; no music or no other background noise lest she lie awake &. takes a longer time to fall asleep. she is always on her toes that even sleep, a natural state of vulnerability, doesn’t deter her from being quick to go on the offense. which is why she sleeps on her back, arms crossed over chest; think: the stereotypical dracula pose inside a coffin. as for nightwear, she is partial to wearing oversized shirts that goes past her knees; &. nothing else.
what music they enjoy. industrial, shoegaze, alternative rock, dream pop, breakbeat, &. electronica; her favorite bands &. music artists being NIN, b/jork, a/dam f, this m/ortal coil — anyone that can create ethereal soundscapes that makes her brain buzz &. shut off her thoughts; all vibes, no thoughts ( r.i.p reze, you would have loved t.a.t.u. though ). reze essentially has two moods: incredibly loud &. chaotic akin to static in her ears, or something more somber &. dreamlike that reflects her waves of emotions. overall, she loves distortion &. being able to feel a wide array of emotions purely from the music alone, the true universal language that surpasses language barriers.
how much they spend time getting ready each morning. give it about half an hour before reze goes out that door. of course, the typical bathroom routine takes less than 15 minutes; all she really has to do is brush her teeth &. take a quick cold shower ( cold water because not only is it good for her skin, but it tightens up her muscles &. jolts her awake ). so fresh, so clean after using cheap liquid body wash from the konbini. afterwards, she brushes her hair before styling it in a messy bun, putting effort into appearing effortless. ( you think her long bangs fall to the side naturally? hah! ). &. if she feels like it, she ends her morning ritual by applying a very light coating of make-up — mascara &. a simple cat eye on her top-eyelid to accentuate her natural feline-like features. that last part, that vested interest in maintaining a pretty appearance, truly became a daily habit after she met denji.
favorite thing to collect. cute mugs to drink her coffee with. though, she has a meager collection: 5 in total, all in display on her kitchenette’s counter top. her favorite is probably the light purple mug with a black cat decal on the front.
left or right handed. right-handed !
favorite sports. reze does not like spectating any sport; she finds the idea of watching other people play a game she can’t participate in to be incredibly boring &. tedious. as for active participation, she does enjoy swimming, funny enough ( seeing how water is like her kryptonite against her powers ). swimming &. being around water, in its wide endless vastness beyond her understanding, have always felt like a freeing experience for her, like she could forget about her troubles the moment she disappears into the wet embrace of the sea or the pool. had she lived an honest student life, she would have probably joined the swim team in high school.
favorite touristy thing to do when traveling. enjoying the local cuisine of the area, &. taking pictures of the sights &. the boring, mundane every day life of the people that live there. it’s like a scrapbook of the million of different lives she could have lived.
favorite kind of weather. she has really enjoyed the the warmth of tokyo in comparison to the unforgiving cold of her motherland in russia. it’s unfortunate that she burns so easily under the sun, because she loves the summer; specifically, on those sunny days when the heat feels refreshing &. there’s a nice languid breeze to alleviate the hot weather. all blue skies &. sunshine. adding layers of sunscreen on her face is an extra step to her morning routine when it’s her favorite time of year.
weird / obscure fear they have. tight spaces. anything that is reminiscent of a deprivation chamber; anywhere where she feels trapped, vulnerable, &. unable to escape from.
the carnival / arcade game they always win without fail. reze is a beast in rhythm games &. shooters. anything that requires perfect hand-eye coordination. she is definitely the girl that wins all the prizes for her dates at the local festival.
thank you, @primordyalsoul, for tagging me :* <3 tagging: @shinanai ( for denji &. dabi ), @violevin, @ymagishi, @deathleads / @curseleads, @sinwrote ( pick anyone you want to talk about ) + everyone on my dash ~ if you see this, do it!
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#this was a long one... but these are always so fun to make#i lov thinking bout my gorl past a surface lvl#like... make me think bout their mundane routine to make these characters feel more /real/#long post /
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HC . Reze likes to feed the stray cats that hang around the café where she works — she even named every single one that would become frequent regulars ( though, they are all some kind of tongue-in-cheek variation of cat, kitty, kitten, neko, koshka, etc.; caring enough to feed them but not forming enough of an attachment to give them proper names ). Though, she doesn’t know much about cat care &. does shit like leave out milk for the strays to drink, unaware that milk could make them sick. An honest rookie mistake.
Something something there’s a lot to be said about how much she cares &. values life when given the chance; but, you know... Her upbringing &. given purpose quashed any opportunity to even try when it really matters.
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#she's a little confused but she got the spirit!
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HC. Though the idea of dressing up &. getting free candy ( or even going to costume parties &. celebrating at the Shibuya 109 ) sounds fun &. even appeals to Reze, she’s the kind of girl that would stay in &. watch horror movies all night.
All this to say that Reze loves loves loves horror movies. JPN ghost films a la “R/ingu” or “D/ark Water” are still objectively good in her eyes, &. a great psychological horror will stick with her for days, but she’s definitely more of a gorehound. The bloodier &. disgusting the film is, the better.
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#she's close to being an edgelord#but she can't stand to see kids get hurt. even on film#(rip reze... u would hate the new french extremity movement-)
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HC. An added factor to why Reze is the way she is, how her personality is simultaneously fake &. true, is because she never had a sense of where home is. Only allegiance to the state created by the hands of those watching from above. Both figuratively &. literally. From her place of residence, to her work, to her commute, &. probably every corner of the city ( maybe; but, who’s to know... ), there are cameras watching her every move, surveilling her progress. Reze is aware she’s under the microscopic eye of surveillance. She knows she must always perform.
Knowingly, unknowingly, in public &. private, the surveyed self cannot be authentic.
#* hc » like a snakeskin / wear me out and tear me down.#this is especially true in my nge verse#can you really trust a teenage girl to perform accordingly to a strict script?
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HC. Reze is so lonely, she’s unfazed by empty flirting words or anyone complimenting her cute looks, but she’d internally combust if someone was to so much as hold her hand ( &. they’d have to be the one initiating that kind of bold affection ). Do that thing where they rub their thumb over her hand &. watch her melt into a puddle, unable to cope or process how nice the warmth of someone else’s skin feels over hers.
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