#Standardized departure

[thekimspoblog]

Is the video game really subverting its genre? Are you sure it's not just doing clever things within its genre, because otherwise the game would be boring and unchallenging and say nothing interesting? I'm just saying, it's cool and all that the internet allows horror game fandoms to overflow into eachother, but not EVERY 2 hour video essay needs to be spent breathlessly sucking off the devs. Sometimes a game is just REGULAR difficult and REGULAR high-quality.

Besides RPGs made over a decade ago, what is the thing supposedly subverting? Clearly not other contemporary indie horror games, because there is clearly a convergent ethos forming of cosmic horror and beginners' traps; that's just what the genre looks like nowadays.

[ct-hardcase]

...well, sweet princess aside from the severe degree of burnout it's obvious pretty much every author is feeling toward the end of this initiative but that's neither here nor there nor specifically a high republic problem

[coffinkissez]

why do genshin fans get so pissy when u mention hsr is a better game for ftps 😭😭

[angelsanctuarys]

what did you think about Perfume Of The Timeless!!

I personally liked it, I think it gives a small hint of what the whole album is going to be without making it super obvious. Which is the point of a single, to just give a taste, a nudge.

Also, mark my words, the song is not going to be the 1st of the list, there's going to be at least 1 behind it that will connect to those initial drums.

Sidenote but oh joy of joys on that 5:30 mark where finally we make a return to a much missed element that I was weeping for: letting emppu going berserk and bring those gorgeous heavy riffs back to life with enough force to revive the dead!

[journey-to-the-attic]

We know what goes on between them in DDVD, but would Lucifer and Zhao ever take an interest in each other in mainline JTTA?

it's not an impossibility! if they're compatible in ddvd, they'd still be in jtta, since zhao is still very much the same person at his core - the main difference is that, in ddvd, zhao doesn't have the time to make the mistakes he does in jtta, since he ends up in the devildom. ultimately he is still the same pathetic little man who is full of love but never knows how to express it

it'd take a while for them to actually see each other in that light, though - it'd only really become viable once zhao is at least significantly on his way to making up for how lonely ik's home life has been. before that, lucifer's disdain in regards to it would stop him from entertaining the fact that he finds zhao kind of cute

also in ddvd, i'd say it's only after getting down to the devildom that zhao realises he also likes men, so zhao in baseline jtta is even MORE repressed about being bi - which is another hurdle he's gonna have to cross before he even thinks about the fact he might have an interest in that demon dude who's adopted his kid

(also if we want to be sappy perhaps it's just a matter of zhaolu finding each other in every reality )!

[jorvikzelda]

if there’s one thing about me it’s that my shoes are ALWAYS going to set off the beep machine at airport security

[coachbeards]

i really have made some peace with the beardjane endgame ending, not because i think they're a good healthy couple, but because like. i knew they weren't going to break them up lmao. i knew it. i think they had a good opportunity to do it after mom city, but i knew they wouldn't.

now, i don't think beard is happy in his marriage, and there's definitely that ted-shaped hole that jane unfortunately cant fill (and she hates beard for that, and ted, too)......... i think he tries, like a lot. i really do think he tries to force himself to be happy. they keep going to codependents anonymous, beard probably begs her to agree to couples counseling.........they have a baby that needs both of them, and he isn't happy. and he hates himself even more that he's not happy, because he...should be, right? this is the life people should be happy with. a good job, a wife, a baby........

[morkaischosen]

The Pathfinder angle does deserve to be the headline there, though - Lancer didn't attract its initial playerbase by openly selling itself as Not 4e.

People rallied against 4e for being well designed? I always heard it was because it was too much like WoW.

D&D 4e being too much like WoW is one of those things that's true in places (it actually had design informed by WoW among other things but a lot of said design was actually remodeled to actually work in the context of tabletop game instead of trying to lazily transplant mechanics from a video game directly into a tabletop game), but ultimately is just a lazy shorthand for "it's like bideo gane therefore bad." On a deeper level D&D 4e wasn't rejected "just" because it was too much like videos game but because its designers actually took a look at all the things taken as default in D&D and actually considered how conducive they were to the experience people were seemingly looking for from D&D (D&D 4e being built to be a fun skirmish game didn't come out of nowhere: it was a response to people basically playing D&D 3e like that and finding the game too unbalanced to serve that experience).

Funnily enough, in being willing to reconsider what people actually wanted out of D&D, 4e is actually the edition of Hasbro D&D most aligned with what people seem to actually want out of D&D these days. A lot of the common design issues people bring up with 5e are issues that D&D 4e already rectified once and 5e actually walked back on because they wanted to get back the purists who had rejected 4e for not being D&D-shaped enough.

[cultivating-wildflowers]

📚

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of these cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you in return.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The thought of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead trying to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you moving on and forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that dreaded green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others like Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited that her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study. Whenever you find yourself 'lost' (escape from Mr. Crawling), they will redirect you back to him.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly after you give up <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[princesssarisa]

Disney's unconventional "Cinderella" (1950) (long)

Having watched most of the many adaptations of Cinderella, I've come to realize what a unique adaptation Disney's 1950 animated classic really is. Unlike Snow White, which only had a few stage and screen adaptations before Disney produced its groundbreaking film, Cinderella had already been adapted many times before Disney's turn came, and Disney's version makes a surprising number of departures from the standard Cinderella "formula." It was definitely a fresh, creative Cinderella when it made its debut, and it arguably still is. Yet because it's become so familiar in pop culture, and today so often serves as our childhood introduction to the tale, it's easy to overlook its inventive storytelling choices. The 2015 live action remake uses several classic Cinderella adaptation tropes that the original 1950 film actually subverts!

Here's a list of the often-overlooked ways in which Disney's Cinderella stands out from earlier adaptations, and from many later ones too.

Cinderella herself. Disney's Cinderella isn't a traditional Cinderella in personality. The "traditional" portrayal of Cinderella, seen in virtually every adaptation before Disney's and several afterwards too, is the portrayal I call "The Waif": a very young, fragile, melancholy girl, dressed in pathetic rags and smudged with ashes, who makes the audience want to rescue her and who wins the Prince's heart with her wide-eyed innocence and artless charm. But whether chiefly to set her apart from earlier screen Cinderellas or from Disney's earlier delicate ingenue Snow White, Disney's Cinderella is none of those things. She comes across as older, or at least more sophisticated. Nor is she waif-like, but instead combines down-to-earth warmth with ladylike dignity, even at her lowliest. She doesn't sit in the ashes ("Cinderella" is her real name in this version), and her servants' dress is humble yet clean and only slightly tattered. She's gentle and kind, yes, but also intelligent, practical, playful, sometimes sarcastic, philosophical, optimistic, genuinely cheerful when she's with her animal friends, and yet angrier and stronger-willed than virtually all earlier Cinderellas. She doesn't beg to go to the ball, but asserts her right to go, and then sets to work fixing up an old dress of her mother's for herself. Only her stepfamily's sabotage, first by keeping her too busy to finish the dress, and then by destroying it after the mice and birds finish it for her, prevents her from taking herself to the ball without a Fairy Godmother. To this day, she stands out as a complex, unique Cinderella, which pop culture too often forgets.

Lady Tremaine. Some critics today complain that Disney makes Cinderella's stepmother a total monster instead of giving her "nuance" and call her portrayal "sexist." But can't we agree that her sheer cruelty enhances the film's dramatic power? And compared to earlier portrayals of Cinderella's Stepmother, it definitely makes her stand out. In most pre-Disney Cinderellas and many after, the Stepmother is a pompous, vain comic antagonist. Once again, Disney was innovative by portraying Lady Tremaine as a dignified, manipulative, and truly sinister villain, who takes quietly sadistic pleasure in abusing Cinderella and will stop at nothing to prevent her from going to the ball or marrying the Prince. As far as I know, she's also the first Stepmother to realize before the slipper-fitting that Cinderella was the lady at the ball and to take action to prevent her from being found. That's a commonplace plot device in more recent adaptations, but in 1950 it was a creative twist!

The mice and other animals. Viewers debate whether Cinderella's mouse friends, Jaq, Gus, et al, and their misadventures evading Lucifer the Cat are a welcome addition or take away too much screen time from Cinderella herself. But there's no denying that the presence of the mice and birds is an inventive storytelling choice, which makes Disney's Cinderella stand out! And I can provide a long list of reasons why they're more than just "filler." (1) They add liveliness, humor, and appeal for younger children. (2) They gave the animators an outlet for the type of character animation they did best, rather than binding them to the harder work of animating realistic humans. (3) They give Cinderella someone to talk to besides her stepfamily. (4) They give her a way to demonstrate her kindness. (5) The struggles of the mice with Lucifer parallel Cinderella's abuse by her stepfamily, and Cinderella's undying optimism not only keeps her from despair, but inspires them too. (6) They arguably provide a further reason why Cinderella stays with her stepfamily – not only does she have nowhere to go, but an entire community of small sentient creatures relies on her for food and protection. (7) They reward Cinderella for her kindness. From the start, her friendship with the mice and birds makes her life easier to bear, both by easing her loneliness and because they do helpful deeds for her, like mending and cleaning her clothes. They fix up her mother's dress for her to wear to the ball – only the stepfamily's last-minute cruelty requires the Fairy Godmother to step in. And in the end, they're directly responsible for Cinderella's happy ending by freeing her from her locked room. They do all these things because Cinderella has protected them, fed them, made them clothes, and been their friend. Therefore, Cinderella's good fortune never feels "just handed" to her: her kindness directly earns it.

The Fairy Godmother. It's always varied between illustrators whether Cinderella's Fairy Godmother is portrayed as a grandmotherly old woman or as youthful, regal, and beautiful, but screen and stage adaptations before the Disney version virtually always took the "youthful, regal, beautiful" approach. That is, when they didn't change her into a wise, fatherly male magician-advisor, as in several opera adaptations! At any rate, seriousness and dignity were the norm for this character in most adaptations from the 19th century through the 1940s. Making her a sweet, comforting, grandmotherly figure, with a comically and adorably absent mind, was another of Disney's fresh choices.

Cinderella's entrance at the ball. We all know the classic image of Cinderella's entrance from other adaptations. Cinderella appears at the top of the grand staircase that leads down to the ballroom, and a hush falls over the assembly, as not only the Prince, but all the guests and members of the court are amazed by the unknown lady's beauty and magnificent dress. Even in versions without a staircase, Cinderella captivates the room the moment she enters. Adaptations both before and after Disney's, including Disney's own 2015 live action remake, play her entrance this way. But the 1950 animated classic subverts it! The grand staircase leads up to the ballroom, not down to it, and Cinderella's entrance isn't a triumph at first, but a vulnerable moment as she makes her way up the stairs alone, dwarfed by the splendor around her. Then, when she reaches the ballroom, no one notices her at first, because the other ladies are being presented to the Prince and all eyes are on him. But then the Prince notices her in the shadowy background as she quietly marvels at her surroundings, and leaves his post to approach her and invite her to dance. Only then does the rest of the assembly notice her, because she's the one the Prince has singled out. It's more understated and it feels more realistic than the traditional entrance, as well as more clearly symbolic of Cinderella's venturing above her station, then both literally and figuratively being led out of the shadows by the Prince's unexpected attention.

The slipper-fitting plan. Over the years, it's been fairly popular to mock the idea of using the glass slipper to find the Prince's love, as if there were no chance it would fit anyone else. Disney's version is creative by having the slipper-fitting search be the comical, hot-blooded King's idea, not the Prince's, and making it clear that it's not, nor is it meant to be, a foolproof plan to find Cinderella. The Duke points out that the slipper could fit any number of girls, but the King doesn't care if they find the right girl or not: he just wants to hold his son to his pledge to marry "the girl who fits this slipper" and force him to marry the first one who fits it. This also means that Disney doesn't do what most adaptations do and have the Prince conduct the search himself, but follows the original Perrault tale by having a gentleman, in this case the Grand Duke, do it instead. This prevents audiences from mocking the Prince for relying on the slipper instead of knowing his beloved's face.

Cinderella breaking free and asking to try on the slipper. Even though in Perrault's original tale, Cinderella asks to try on the slipper, she almost never does in adaptations. In most versions other than Disney's, including Disney's own 2015 remake, Cinderella's presence in the house (and/or the fact that she has the other slipper) is either discovered by accident or revealed by Cinderella's allies, not by Cinderella's own initiative. In some versions, she even tries to hide from the Prince and/or the search party, either out of fear of her stepfamily or because she feels unworthy of the Prince in her rags. But not Disney's animated Cinderella! First of all, she has an assertive emotional breakthrough when she calls on her dog Bruno to chase Lucifer away and free Gus to slip her the key to her locked room. Earlier on, she urges Bruno to try to get along with Lucifer, lest the stepfamily not allow him to sleep in the house – it's clear that Bruno represents her own rebellious side, and in that scene she's really talking about herself, revealing that she tolerates her stepfamily's abuse so she won't lose her own "nice warm bed" and be homeless. But in the climactic scene, when she finally sees a way out, she gives up playing nice and seizes her chance. First she unleashes Bruno on Lucifer, and then she runs downstairs and directly asks to try on the slipper, not caring how her stepfamily will react, or what the Grand Duke will think of her shabby dress, or whether the audience will accuse her of gold-digging or not. This isn't a common breakthrough in other Cinderella adaptations, but it fits perfectly (like a glass slipper, you might say) with the Disney Cinderella's stronger-willed and more self-assured characterization.

"I have the other slipper." We can probably all safely assume that when audiences first saw Disney's Cinderella in 1950, they all expected Cinderella to try on the glass slipper she lost, with her identity revealed by its perfect fit. They never would have expected Lady Tremaine to trip the footman and break the glass slipper... only for Cinderella to calmly reveal that she has the other one. It's yet another clever and unexpected twist, not seen in any other version. Not even Disney's own 2015 remake.

Disney's Cinderella deserves far more credit than it gets for being unique among the myriad versions of the tale, especially compared to the versions that came before it.

[ghcstao3]

ghost having a missing tooth. just a lateral incisor, lost it only a few years into the military, never bothered to have it properly replaced. he has a retainer with a fake tooth, sure, but that’s a special occasion sort of thing—because why would he wear something for cosmetic purposes when his face is hidden behind a mask most of the time?

but when he and soap start going out, particularly on leave, ghost suddenly finds himself self-conscious and constantly wearing that retainer. even makes the stupid decision of eating with it in on occasion just because he doesn’t want soap seeing the gap in his smile. which is weird for ghost, because he’s never felt embarrassed by it before—but maybe with soap and his perfect smile, it makes ghost feel like he’s lacking in contrast.

soap finds out on leave, when their departures were staggered and ghost arrived home two days later than soap. he never bothered with the retainer that day, too tired from travel and work, and doesn’t realize it’s missing until he’s pulling off his standard civilian-get-up-surgical-mask and smiling at soap in greeting.

it’s clear that soap notices immediately. his eyes flicker to the smile and a furrow finds his brow as he asked what happened in the past two days he was gone that had ghost missing a tooth.

ghost’s smile fades instantaneously before he ducks his head and mechanically utters out an explanation.

then soap asks to see his smile again. insists until ghost finally offers up a grimace, then contemplates it a moment before deeming it cute, of all things.

it’s only natural from there that soap does anything in his power to make ghost smile, because the missing tooth is something charming in a way soap can’t explain. it’s just so very ghost, and how could soap not love that?

[magicalmanhattanproject]

man im just like. thinking about egg signs and how they've evolved over the course of the qsmp and how the qsmp has evolved over the course of the qsmp and just feeling so much love and affection for every part of the project. i dont have any grand overarching point with this just. like. here's a history of egg comms bc of the kind of person that i am

so wayyyy back ten months ago now at the start of the short and sweet egg event that was planned to last maybe a month at most, the eggs had their own custom, decorated signs!

[ID: Leo with a pink sign with an egg on the bottom corner that reads "hello" in all caps. Her nametag reads Leonardo. End ID]

They were extremely simple, single word signs. There was hello, hola, story, feed, sleep, and maybe one or two more and each was its own separate sign. The eggs could only communicate the most basic needs in words and everything else was through minecraft body language or just hoping their parents guessed right.

But obviously, there was a lot more that parents wanted to hear from their children. I'm not sure who was actually first, but the earliest departure from this system I know about is BadBoyHalo giving Dapper a simple oak sign so he could name his pet slime. (Screenshot from @/lxrd-ren)

[ID: Dapper wearing a diver's helmet standing next to a tiny slime in a boat with an oak sign reading "Bouncy (slmecicle but better)" End ID]

Parents quickly realized how much more convenient this was and pretty soon every single egg had stacks of signs to communicate with.

The next innovation came from Vegetta, who was the resident mod knower at the time. He knew about colored canvas signs and gave Leo signs in her favorite color purple because he loved her and gave her everything she wanted.

[ID: Leo's bed in her room under some Fooligetta fanart with a purple sign reading "<3" End ID]

Colored signs obviously had a lot of advantages. Being able to tell at a glance which egg placed which sign was a huge step forward in eggs being able to have long, complicated conversations as well as leaving obvious marks of their personality everywhere they went. It took a little while for them to be standard for every egg though. Bobby never stopped using oak signs even after Richas and Pomme both showed up with colored signs.

[ID: Two signs reading from right to left a red Pomme sign reading "we already started working on a guillotine factory" and a dark grey Dapper sign reading "thats the most french u have said so far pomme" End ID]

And this was the system for a while! And it worked pretty well for most people! The biggest struggle most people had was egg signs not being translated, but streamers adjusted to that by reading signs out loud so the translators would pick up on them. This also lead to adorable and fascinating dynamics like Richas swearing in signs he wrote for Bad and then warning Bad not to read them out. There was also the genuinely phenomenal development of Leolingo where Leo writes only in Spanish to Foolish because it's easier for her to write and he takes his time to puzzle his way through it and learn in a way that's super cool to watch someone else do onscreen.

Then Tubbo joined the server. And Tubbo himself had no problems at all with the system, but he is dyslexic and he casually mentioned offhand that it was getting kind of annoying to read signs after a ten hour long stream and the admin team Fucking Cooked.

Within 24 hours, they had TTS working on the signs. Within 48 hours, it was working on books too. I can't remember how long it took to get translation working, but it was definitely under a week.

And this opened up a whole new world of possibilities for the entire QSMP. The admin team has been on top of capitalizing on it for story purposes, but also just allowing the egg admins to speak in their native languages to everyone whenever they want has been so enriching for everyone involved. Leolingo is awesome but Foolish has been learning Spanish insanely fast and his process is a lot slower and more frustrating than most people can do in front of an audience of thousands of people without feeling discouraged. That's also one language. We've had everything from Foolish being able to check his work a bit more faster to Phil insisting on his eggs taking a day to speak to him in their native languages to Ramón writing a book for Fit in Cantonese, a language we haven't even seen on the server in any other context!

And all of it is fully understood and fully communicated! Sometimes the translators mess up but no one expects them to be perfect and people ask for clarification if the translator says something that doesn't sound right. It's not only a massive step forward in communication technology, but it's a great demonstration of how to use it and when you can and can't rely on it.

And finally, the most recent innovation! One of BBH's viewers sent him a dono saying they had trouble reading certain signs because they were too low-contrast. Bad, Richas, and Pomme just. Took it upon themselves to fix the problem right there and then. Based on One (1) bringing up their own personal struggle, those three came up with new signs that innovate tremendously on the originals.

[ID: Two separate images of the before and after. The first is the egg signs in their original colors with the corresponding egg's name written on them to demonstrate the font color and the second is in the new, higher contrast colors with the same text. The new signs also have custom decorations for each egg. The second picture also has two signs from Pomme in all caps that read "Send all the love to Richas he spent a whole night making this he's the best <3" End ID]

There are three main innovations visible in the above pictures

1: Obviously, the colors are higher contrast. The signs with white text have darker colors and the signs with black text have lighter colors.

2: The colors themselves are lower saturation. Richas said this made it easier for him personally to read them so he corrected that way, but that's open to change if it causes difficulties for more people than it helps

3: The decorations are for accessibility reasons! People with various different forms of colorblindness will find different sets of colors easier or harder to distinguish, but any of them can look at the decorations and use them to identify whose sign is whose instead.

But! Those innovations are not why I made this post! It's these ones!

[ID: The backs of the new signs when placed on the ground. Most visible are Chayanne's with vines and a hardcore heart, Sunny's with shining sunglasses, and Pomme's with an apple and the Eiffel Tower. End ID]

Richas added distinguishing marks to the backs of the signs too! This is something that Bad brought up specifically as something he wanted because it was hard for him to tell who was talking when he was using TTS from behind signs and couldn't see the colors at all.

We went from custom egg signs (a hotbar or so of words and nothing else to communicate with) through a long journey of expanding communication and expanding who we're bringing along on the communication and how easily they can join in and we've circled all the way back around to custom egg signs (they can say anything they want in any language they want and anyone will know it's them saying it from any angle)

and i guess i have enough feelings abotu that to write All This about it

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[crepezinhos]

Purity

POV: You just wanted to celebrate your engagement party with your friends and family in the 1600s, but as soon as you left the scene for a quick moment, your childhood friend, Scaramouche, appeared with a lot of complaints.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a slightly Yandere and corrupted NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— 1600s / European Royalty AU

— There will be a lot of usage and mentions of toxic religion / culture towards women.

— There will be a whole NSFW part describing teenagers having sex

The party was going perfectly well as you planned it to be. Even without your presence at the main hall in a party that was supposed to be about you, you could hear the hundreds of voices and noises of silvers clicking. You thought that maybe making this party huge would distract your mind off from the most recent events of your life, and it did before your future husband ruined it for you and made you remind that you were just a loser in his game.

Of course it was him, it had to be him. Why did you even believe that he’d ever let you have that much of fun in a party? Now, you definitely did not want to party anymore, and luckily, you also couldn’t. Tears are a nightmare for eyes with mascara all around its eyelashes, the ink is strong. You looked a homeless woman as you crippled through each stair step in search of your room, stepping in the ends of your dress, defeated by the public humiliation he did to you. Why did he have keep making so many remarks about your excited manners towards the visitors, how you referred to him, and how much food you wanted to put in your plate? It made you wonder why did you ever accept marrying him the entire walk.

The story behind your marriage is simple. Your reputation in the city was bad, not enough to make your family miserable, but enough to make all the marriage suitors of your age refuse to take your hand in marriage. You were a girl who liked to have fun and take risks, not sit and chat for hours while drinking tasteless cups of tea in a time where all men wanted the complete opposite in their wives. You also had a very curious case in the past. You and your childhood best friend called Kunikuzushi, or Scaramouche just for you, had promised and announced a marriage that would take place as soon as both of you got inserted into society, but unfortunately, his school offered him a scholarship in France before you two could be inserted, and since you obviously couldn’t come with him, he was forced to choose between success or you. He ended up picking France, which was not a bad decision, but watching his departure was truly painful to your poor heart who had deeply fallen in love with him.

Because of this tragic love story that turned out to be a joke and your questionable personality, everyone lost interest in you and your family, which made you an unmarried woman for two years. In short, being unmarried at such age was a disaster. The only man that had proposed to you was the same one who shamed you in front of your whole family and all those hypocrite visitors. He was the double of your age, ugly, and had really strict standards for his future wife after the loss of his previous wife. After a few test dates with him, you realized that you really did not want to marry him and even repulsed the idea, not because of your love towards Scaramouche, but because he wasn’t ok in the head. He was weird to a point where he confessed he just wanted to make you his wife because he thought you looked very fertile and that you’d be an incredible mother for boys, since you ‘acted like one’, which would not be a bad thing if his eyes never seemed to linger in your crotch for too long and if he kept his hands to himself.

You did not want to spend the rest of your life stocked to such weird man at all. You didn’t feel anything for him and even felt sick in his presence, but your reputation was in such a terrible state that your parents pressured you with the worst and most disturbing threats ever to accept his offer during a huge argument about it.

You’ve always wished to marry a young man of your age, especially Scaramouche, but you had no right or power of choice in that situation. With growing tears in the back of your eyes, you accepted his act of putting a golden ring in your finger. The day still haunted your dreams and thoughts, making you want to cry every single day of your meaningless life just like today.

Luckily, all you had to do that after climbing those long, exhausting stairs was enter the first room at the right. As soon as you touched the golden, cold doorknob of it, you felt your body melt and your tears finally coming out of your eyes with freedom. You held them for so long, you just wanted to throw yourself at the bed and cry until you fell asleep. Still, as desperate as you were, you closed the door very gently, afraid of possibly calling attention.

You stepped out of your heels and finally ran to the bed you slept through your entire childhood. Due to the contact your face made with the sheets, you finally felt comfort to open your mouth and let all your whimpers out. Everything that led to your situation was hitting you again. Your affair with Scaramouche, his departure, the argument with your parents, the betrayal of society to you, the first appearance of that hag you were marrying, his proposal, and today. It all made you so anxious again that you really began to try shutting your mouth again multiple times and swallow all that voice down your throat again, but it only seemed to worsen.

“Y/N?” You suddenly heard a voice inside the room, slightly muffled due to your head being drowned at the wet sheets.

Oh no, someone spotted you.

The fear of it being your husband, an unreliable gossiper or your reputation worsening made you instantly jump up from that position, despite the weird feeling of familiarity on that voice.

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll come down in a few—!” You tried making yourself look normal, but as soon as your eyes gazed upon the person’s shiny purple hair and eyes, you stopped acting.

It was the complete opposite of what your pessimism made you believe it could be, it was a miracle, it was Kunikuzushi. Although his face seemed to be very stressed and he entered the room without knocking, it did not make his appearance any less pleasant to you.

“Scara…” You called his nickname after those 2 years without speaking of it.

Your family made very clear to you that if you ever spoke of the man again to them or your husband, it would lead to your disownment, but calling his name out so passionately like that made all those threats feel useless to you. The first thing you did after realizing that it was really him, was begin walking to him. It was instinctual, so instinctual that your knees stopped trembling just for you to reach him and more tears started coming down. He looked so beautiful and mature… it made you feel even more bad about yourself. You wasted such a handsome man to one that probably has never even tried to look pretty to a lady.

“For how long have you…” You tried interacting, but as you soon as your hand managed to touch him, you broke down once again, this time in his embrace.

You felt so safe around Scaramouche and so hungry for him that you genuinely allowed your legs to stop working, and as expected, he held you with a warm embrace around your entire torso. When he realized you still were as light as a feather, he leaned one hand up to the back of your head and started cuddling it, his face still stressed.

“It was him, wasn’t it?” He whispered with that familiar angry voice of his you wished to hear again, slightly gripping tighter in your head.

The truth is that you secretly sent an invitation letter to the party to him, even if you believed that he would not be able to come or simply wouldn’t come. It was a normal envelope like everyone else’s, but you hoped he’d interpret it as a cry for help.

“W-Wha… what do you mean..?” You whimpered, looking up to his face.

Now that he was so much taller than you, the difference of height was surprising to you.

“I was talking to him, to find out where you were and to just know who the fuck were you marrying, and not only he said he didn’t know with the most careless tone I could hear, but he felt comfortable enough to confess a bunch of weird shit about his intentions with you and that he offended you in front of everyone in the dining table.” He told the story behind his arrival very angrily, but his voice was so mesmerizing to you that you barely paid attention to it. He still sounded like a twelve year-old boy before his departure, but now he sounded like an adult. “Did he really do that, Y/N?” He asked, pulling your chin to him to wake you up to reality, forcing you to go through all he said before again and stare at those addicting purple eyes.

Between all those whimpers and tears, you nodded weakly, making Scaramouche grit his teeth.

“And you’re really… marrying him?” You went quiet for some second in embarrassment after he made that question with the most disappointed tone you’ve ever heard from him yet.

But you had no choice rather than being truthful.

“Yes—”

“Why?” He asked instantly, some of his anger accidentally pouring out.

“I… had to… or I would be disowned and… and..!” You tried explaining, but the memories of the actual threat stopped you from venting too much.

Luckily, he understood your despair at that moment and embraced you again.

“I’m guessing this is all because of me, isn’t it?” He scoffed at himself, but you instantly nodded your head side to side, trying to tell him otherwise. “Oh, Y/N… I should’ve found a way to bring you to France with me…” He whispered in your ear and pulled you even closer to his body, truly seeming regretful of his decisions. “I thought I had forgotten about you over these two years, but here I am, raging over your marriage.” He vented, making your eyes finally open again, but in confusion.

“You’re… angry..?” You asked, leaning your chin up to him again.

“Way more than that, Y/N.” He said very directly, pushing you away from him gently, still holding on your shoulders as he precisely stared to the deepest parts of your eyes. “This has to stop.” He shook your shoulders, making you get even more confused and surprised at his sudden jealously. “I don’t care if it will ruin more of your little reputation, I can’t let you marry that prick.” He spouted more of his feelings, putting a hand back to reach the door behind him to bang it back to its place and spin the lock in knob, then going back to gripping on your shoulders tighter than before, making you slightly whimper at his firmness.

“W-What are you talking about, Scara..?” You asked, trying to believe he was not saying those things.

“Do you know why that man asked your hand in marriage, Y/N? I had a bit of hope that at least I lost you to a good man, but all he wants in you is your fertility and potential to be a mother.” He told you the details of it with a kind of disgust you had never seen on him, making you turn your face away from him in embarrassment of your decisions. “That’s fucking mental, Y/N, why the fuck are doing this?!” He shook your shoulders again, a little more aggressive as he tries to understand you the mentality behind your choices.

“And what else could I do, Scara?! If you know that it’s your fault that I got a bad reputation, why are you acting like this is unexpected?! I was unmarried for these whole two years, I had to accept this! You know how things work for women! If I don’t marry quickly, I’ll be forever stained with it like it’s written in my forehead! Do you know how much I had to fight and work to get this, huh?! Do you think I chose and love this?!” You vented it all out, screaming like you didn’t care about the possible consequences of it meanwhile Scaramouche looked at you in horror.

But you could see that you convinced him, now that he let you go and turned around, beginning to walk in circles in your room with his hands in his hips, thoughtful about you.

“I can’t let you do this, Y/N…” He whispered to himself as he nodded his head around multiple times and you stood weakly exactly where you’ve been this entire hug.

But after some circles, he started to slow down until he fully stopped in front of one of the room’s windows. He kept staring at the garden below the room through the glass, his back turned to you, but you could still feel the anxiety behind whatever he thought of.

His arms crossed firmly, his index finger tapping his arm, and at the same time he took a deep breath, like he was preparing for something.

“Marry me.” He stated, finally finding the courage to stare at you again.

You simply stared at him wordless in your shrunken position, completely vulnerable to his tall figure, although he was far from you. The room remained quiet because Scara needed a response to continue rambling about that brainstormed idea.

“I would’ve accepted losing you to a common man of our age, but not to an old hag with a simple wish to make an heir.” He commented as you thought of what to answer him.

“Scaramouche… are you nuts?! I already am engaged to him, all we need is the actual wedding! There’s nothing to be done about it unless you want to stain my reputation forever!” You finally spouted some of your emotions to him.

“Of course there is, Y/N! Listen to me…” He shouted at you as he approached to you again, holding on your arms again very firmly. “I just came back to this hellhole to see you, but I’ll be soon going back to England and most likely going to stay there for the rest of my life. If you dump this douchebag right now and marry me instead, I’ll take you out of here and implant you into a new society! See?! It really isn’t hard or risky and we will finally marry each other as we’ve always dreamed to! I still fucking love you so much, Y/N… You’ve grown so well and you look so fucking beautiful in this dress… I can’t lose you to that man at all.” He explained the plan to you in a desperate tone, and although you agreed with all of it, you kept your face as anxious as it was.

You definitely loved him back and wanted to run away with him, but how would he get rid of your husband or the church? How would you live knowing that you wasted two years of pure hard work because of the seduction of a man you’ve been lusting for, and who barely has a plan in his own? His plan seems so easily fragile… what if it breaks? You would most likely become the national shame for next centuries.

All those negative thoughts censored the good ones about his plan, making you look away from him as you nodded side to side firmly, making Scaramouche start breathing more nervously in despair.

“I can’t…” You initiated, thinking he’d instantly get mad, but when you realized he didn’t say anything back, and wanted to listen, you continued. “I spent two years fighting for this, Scara… I can’t just… drop everything for a plan that’s not even finished on its own…” You cried, trying your best to free away from his grip with ease.

“Oh, silly Y/N..! All I need now is to find out how will I get rid of that fucking prick, and then it’s done! You know it’s not a bad plan… I really just need to think about this part! I think I can safely state that we still love each other and crave for this… we can’t just pretend it doesn’t exist..!” He argued, banging your foreheads together with a sensible lust to bring your lips together.

“I cannot accept your offer until it’s fully completed, Scaramouche… I’m sorry. It still wouldn’t change the fact that you’ve broken my heart once.” You brought the topic back, which made him barely cry and tighten his grip on your shoulders in regret, feeling like he was losing you. “And… I’ve heard you’ve been seeing a woman named Kujou Sara… so how can I guarantee you’re not just playing with my heart and seducing me into carnal desires..?” You asked, making him genuinely scoff and giggle at your logic.

“Do you really think I’d go this far for carnal desires, Y/N? Wherever you heard about me and Sara, keep in mind that we didn’t work. Don’t you remember? Our mothers have always tried to push us together through our entire childhoods, but we repulsed each other so much that we preferred to bet on the luck of finding another partner! And trust me, Y/N, I had you in my mind this entire time.” He told his version of the story as he confessed his feelings for you. “I don’t wish to simply engage into animality with you, I want to be your fucking husband and the fucking father of your children.” He confessed, feeling the regret of his last actions hitting on him and the anger of your insistence of rejecting him, but you saw him stop for a moment to swallow everything down again and regain some self-control. “I love you, Y/N.” Those words came out of his mouth as easy as any other would, with a smile that you could feel was genuine, no matter how weird it looked.

The impact of his emotions on you made you weaken your body again, feeling safe in his grip no matter how weird he was acting. You felt like you were set back to his seduction, but you didn’t really care for it for that quick moment.

“I… I love you too, Scara, but I really can’t—”

…

!

In a blink of an eye, you saw the gap between your mouths close shut, finally making utility of the unnecessary contact between your foreheads. His lips were glossing yours, no matter if yours were supposed to belong to another man now. He had pulled you that close to him, no matter if you had or had not consented. He predicted that you’d simply accept it like a gift… and he wasn’t wrong.

Scaramouche’s tongue was invasive and hungry to get to feel more of your mouth, and that feeling just made you melt under his attack. Your back leaned backwards, making him have to hold you by your waist in a very hard angle while you held him by his cheeks, but it didn’t matter as long as he got to kiss you. Your tongue soon managed to join his rhythm, which made him groan. Everything between you got very hot and very quickly, only convincing you to kiss him more. It has been two years since you last saw, touched or kissed him, which means your hormones were surely acting higher than you.

You suddenly felt Scaramouche’s hands move to the back part of your tights and pull it up. You groaned in surprise but that didn’t stop you from savoring his lips. What truly made you two separate was the fact that Scaramouche started walking, and in a few steps, your back banged against a cold wall of your room beside your bed. That swift movement made a saliva chord come out from both your mouths, but was quickly ignored by you moving your hands behind his neck and hugging his waist with your legs to pull him to your mouth again, gripping on the back of his hair like you felt any sort of pain in that kiss.

You were almost feeling tears forming in the corner of your eyes as you felt all those years of longing being wasted, but before you could get any more emotional, you felt something gently rub in your crotch. It instantly made you feel uncomfortable, although you had no idea what it was, so you pushed Scaramouche backwards, separating your moths again, to see what it was.

Oh, lord. You two messed up.

It was a growing erection under his pants.

You instantly flinched away from it as a reaction, slightly screaming in fear of it.

“W-Wait..! No! We can’t do this, Scara!” You argued as you tried to push him away and kick the air with your feet.

“Why not, hum..?” He asked, not taking you seriously at all. “I thought you said you loved me too…” He joked, getting his face close to yours again for another kiss, but accidentally forcing the contact of his erection with your crotch even further.

“Seriously, Scara! Stop it!” You moaned as you felt him rub himself against your clothed clit, trying to push him away even harder.

Scaramouche grunted in frustration, but still decided to let you stand up in the ground again and step away from you. After some necessary breathes to recover, he finally decided to speak up.

“What’s wro—?”

SLAP!

You breathed in and out some extras times before using the same hand you used to smack his cheek to wipe the saliva away from your lips and speaking up for yourself.

“Don’t you ever do this to me again!” You argued, trying your best to not scream at him so loudly.

“What’s up with the sudden bipolarity, huh?” He asked in an ironic tone, caressing the cheek that has been slapped.

You had just forgotten how sarcastic and annoying Scaramouche was. It even made you wonder how did you befriend him in the first place.

“This is wrong, Scaramouche, even if I accepted your offer… it would be cruel to betray someone’s trust like this. Sorry if I fooled you by realizing this too late, but you know wives have to keep themselves pure before their marriage, so meanwhile we aren’t an oficial couple, I must keep myself pure for my future husband.” You argued in a more calm tone, rearranging your hair and dress.

“Pure?” He scoffed.

“Yes, Scaramouche. Pure as a saint.”

“There isn’t such thing as ‘purity’, Y/N, and you were never ‘pure’ too.” He ironized, copying your way to pronounce ‘pure’.

“What do you mean?” You asked, slightly losing your confidence as he made those two statements.

“Well… let’s just say I studied a lot about religion and science in France and stopped going to church or believing in God because I found science more logical—” He initiated, making you repulse him and his previous actions even more.

“W-Wha… what..?! Scara, this is devil’s work on you..!” You immediately replied.

“Quiet. I’m not done.” He tried shutting you, but you feared demonology too much to let him give you orders.

“I will not quiet down towards—!”

“Y/N, if you’re so loyal to your religion, why don’t you act like the submissive woman you’re supposed to be and let the man take lead?” He confronted in a harsh, cold tone, this time giving you a good reason to shut up. “When I say I don’t believe in God, I also mean that I don’t believe in Satan, hell or heaven.” He continued, completely ignoring your discomfort and fear.

You feared that Scaramouche you saw was just a demon morphing as him, or that he had allied with Satan, but you still felt like none of those negative thoughts made you like him less or feel less comfortable. According to his words, he really just seemed to have started seeing the world in a different perspective.

“Why would God want you to be ‘pure’ anyway? Why would he not want couples to know each other and be intimate before sealing their relationship as marriage?” He scoffed the logic behind that rule of your religion. “What would you do if that man you’re about to marry likes choking and hurting women physically during sex? I don’t think you’re into those things, so that’s why I’m asking… nor I think that man would be willing to adapt to what you like.” He crossed his arms as he confronted you again, but you didn’t want to say anything else. “And there’s also the fact that you still are not ‘pure’, Y/N, in fact, you’re one of the most impure women I’ve ever met.” He insulted you, making you gasp in shock with his audacity.

“How dare you insult me like this?!” You screamed back at him.

“Insult? It’s a mere fact, Y/N, unless if you consider what happened between us when we were 16, a day before my departure, something ‘pure’.” He scoffed, smirking as he saw your face stone in horror.

Oh no.

Oh no, no, no…

No, no, no, no, no…

He’s right.

You are not pure.

“You opened yourself so easily to me… I was so glad I got to experience sex with you before leaving this stupid city.” He commented, making both of you remember of what happened enthusiastically, but you were still horrified with the incoming memories.

That day, you were simply sitting in Scaramouche’s bed with him, talking about how you felt about his departure. Not only you knew he was going to leave you, but another girl you two knew as kids, Kujou Sara, was also moving to France, and that made you feel extremely insecure about your slightly romantic relationship with him. You asked him if he planned marrying her if he didn’t come back, but he took it as an insult and instantly spilled out that if he could ever marry you, he would, but it was impossible at the moment because you two were too young for the church to allow it. From that point, things got hot and romantic very quick, and you two lost notion of time and morality as you two made love to each other for the first time in your lives.

“Do you… really promise to- ah~! marry me if you come back, Scaramouche..?” You asked between moans and whines as you hugged and scratched his back and he forced his hips into yours like a starved dog.

“Of course, Y/N, of cour—” He was about to answer, but a sudden gasp echoed in the room in the spot of the door, making you two stone in horror and stop everything.

“WHAT IN GOD’S NAME ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” Scaramouche’s mother, Raiden Ei, screamed at the both of you with a very noticeable disgust in her voice.

And you two were forced to stop.

“Yeah, right? How many slaps that costed you again? 50?” He asked as he realized you were having flashbacks of it.

Ei was not kind towards the situation you both were in and reported your sin to your family, which caused the biggest problems you had to face: your family’s scolding and not allowing that secret to spread. Your parents had gone so mad during their scolding that they instantly made you also receive punishment from the church to somehow recover what you lost that day. The sister who heard your forced confession betrayed your little trust and forced you to receive 50 slaps with a piece of wood in your bare nude buttocks. What hurt you most is that not only your lover couldn’t defend you but the sister did not forgive your sin and told you with the roughest voice tone she that you’d never get your purity back.

It was so traumatic and humiliating that your mind decided to blur those moments out of it to make your life less miserable, but now it has all been brought back by the man you wanted to defend you at that moment.

“You see, Y/N? We have stoped being ‘pure’ long time ago when we did that! We’re both screwed in this society, so if we stick together, nothing will change in our reputations! We’re perfect for each other, Y/N! Why can’t you see it?!” He whispered in your ear after walking up to you again, extremely desperate for your consent to kiss you one more time.

You didn’t want to admit that he was right about the logic of purity or you not being pure… you didn’t want to awaken those dark moments at all. What if someone was behind that door listening to it all..? It would truly be the end of your name in England.

“Come on, say it, Y/N… you know you still want to be my wife and get away from this hellhole of a city.” He begged with a petty voice, extremely lusty for you.

His cheeks were red and his mouth trembling to touch yours again.

You lowered your head, beginning to tear again as you resisted your desires, no matter how much it ached your heart.

But your need to cry was suddenly replaced by the sudden movement of one of his legs moving upwards, kneeing right under your crotch.

“No need to cry, my love… I’ll make sure that this guilt will vanish as soon as you agree to my plan of getting you out of this marriage… There is literally no good reason for you to say ‘no’..!” He whispered as he started rubbing his knee against your folds, causing to gently hiccup in tears and slight pleasure and try pushing him away. “See..?! You still like it when I touch you here… you want more, don’t you..? I don’t think even think I need to hear your voice to know it’s a ‘yes’!” He grunted under your neck as he begun moving a hand under your dress and kissing your neck.

No matter how much your memories made you feel horrible, you knew that Scaramouche would be the remedy of it. You knew that he would present you plenty pleasure if you accepted what he was trying to do with you right now, you knew he’d make you the happiest woman on Earth if things went well, you knew you’d love being the mother of his children, you could easily predict your future if you say ‘yes’ to him.

Your feelings are a mess, really. But now that they seemed to have finally stick with something, you didn’t want to let go.

“Oh, God! If you’re watching this, please forgive me for my sin ahead… I just want to feel him once again… I just want to spend some time with him!”

“Please don’t let this be a demon trying to take advantage of my weaknesses! Please let his plan be real and not an attempt to simply seduce me into carnal activities!”

“And if he really wants to be my husband… please let me have it! I really need it for my happiness!”

You said to yourself in your mind.

“Scara~…” You moaned out before he could your private spots.

“Yes, my love?” He answered excitedly, stopping his movements to hear what you had to say after moaning his name so perfectly.

“Please… get me out of here!” You begged, finally weakening your body for his benefit in that situation, making his purple eyes glow and widen in joy.

“Oh, Y/N, I will… I fucking will.” He groaned, instantly stopping his attempt in teasing your core and moving his hands to your tights to pull them upwards.

In seconds, you were spun around and thrown against your bed, but it really didn’t make you feel uncomfortable or any pain because the make-out session that begun was simply numbing your mind of everything around you. He was on top of you and perfectly positioned between your legs, making you able to feel his erection slightly poking and rubbing against your swollen cunt.

His hands were quick in beginning to push all the layers of your dress upwards as his mouth still pushed your head father into the mattress. He had no time to make a full preparation for the moment, nor did you want it. You just wanted to feel that man inside you already, anything blocking you from it was simply annoying, no matter if it was related to him making love to you.

His mouth suddenly separated from yours, making you open your eyes in agony of being too far from him, only to find him leaning his whole body upwards and his hands moving to your pantyhose like a starved dog. Unlike with the dress, his hands weren’t as gentle with your pantyhose, barely ripping it apart as he brutally pulled them down.

“S-Scara..! Be more careful, those were expensive!” You asked slightly stressed, trying your best to close your knees from him, but he held them like he’d die if you did that.

“S-Sorry.” He said absolutely careless about it, only focusing on the teasing view of your exposed tights and underwear. “Fuck…” He grunted as he moved his hands to his belt.

He was quick on undoing his annoying pants and you helped him by sliding your underwear down too, saving some time for him. He smirked at your will to commit carnal activity with him as he grabbed his own cock and pulled it out, beginning to stroke it gently in front of you. You were somehow too ashamed to look at it, so you simply threw your head aside and moved a hand to your wet entrance as your body relaxed, gently inserting two fingers inside it to also prepare yourself even more for him.

“God, Y/N… you never fail to make me as hard as a brick. Can you even guess how many times I touched myself for you?” He smirked as his cock twitched at the view of you preparing yourself to receive him.

He felt like he could cum already if he kept stroking himself with that view in front of him, but he really was just preparing himself for the moment too.

As soon as he felt a sudden hard pulse from his cock, he knew he was ready and leaned down close to you again, using a hand to take yours away from your cunt and properly position his cock in front of it.

Your hands went to the corners of the pillow under your head, gripping on them nervous about his length.

“Are you ready, my love?” He asked between some shaky breathes.

“Yes…” You whispered, and he finally begun slowly pushing his way inside you.

The scream that came out of you as a reaction to it would only get higher and higher the deeper he went, making your entire body crumble under him for a quick moment when he finally stopped at the tip of your cervix, successfully inserting all his length inside you. Despite knowing that in your religion sexual pleasure was sinful too, even in marriage, that heat wave his entrance gave you was too breathtaking to make you care about those stupid rules.

“Lord almighty…” He groaned and smirked at the sensation of being surrounded by your mushy, tight walls. “If only I had time and condition to see you naked again… thank God I’ll make you my wife, Y/N, because I want us to do this every single day of our lives.” His voice cracked multiple times during his speech as he begun creating a slow rythym to his hips, pleasuring taking over his senses too.

He was slowly pulling out and then rocking all the way in quickly, creating a tortuous rhythm that mostly explored your G spot, which only made you feel weaker and weaker under him. Unintentional plap noises were coming out from the rocking of both your hips and his balls every time he thrusted, which would be something you’d be worrying about if your mind wasn’t numbed by the overwhelming pleasure you received. Tears were beginning to form in ecstasy as your legs instinctively hugged his hips tighter, wishing for more depth into his movements.

“Do you really think… that man would or could ever… make you feel like this, Y/N?” He asked, pausing to moan and breathe sometimes, not minding the fact that you barely had any consciousness left to answer.

“N-N… no…” You moaned out, making his smirk widen.

“Only I can… and I fucking love it.” He whispered to himself as he slightly sped up his rhythm.

The way he whispered with that husky voice made you feel his dick suddenly get bigger and more invasive inside you, making Scaramouche grunt, although you didn’t understand what happened.

“Fuck… if you keep tightening like this, I might be unable to keep making my way inside…” He teased right in your left ear, making you throw your head aside even more.

His blood circulation felt like it had dropped all the way to his dick, because somehow he managed to get even harder than he was with the struggle of passing through such a tight space as your pussy.

Due to him getting his face so close to your head, Scaramouche moved his mouth to your neck, his harsh breathing tickling your warm skin too. Your legs twitched in surprise and Scaramouche grunted again, meaning that you probably tightened your cunt around him again.

And it was definitely the case since now you could hear some low, soggy noises whenever he pulled out from you, something that was not happening until this point.

“You still like it when I fuck you nice and slow like this, don’t you..?” He asked, making you face away from the moment in front of you. “Don’t be ashamed, I love making this to you…” He teased again before going back to his make-out session with the muscles of your neck.

Your hands finally got enough from endlessly gripping in a pillow and moved to his back, scratching it in the same intensity as his thrusts, making him slightly crumble on top of you too. But since he had his clothes on, his back was mostly protected from your nails unlike your poor, swollen cunt, being savored so relentlessly no matter how fragile and sensitive it is for his touch.

“Tell me, Y/N… who’s your husband..?” He asked, stopping his attack in your neck again just to lean up and stare at you with those hungry, shining purple eyes, unintentionally getting your hands away from his back too.

“Y-You…” You answered, still staring at him with your pathetic sex face.

“Who’s ‘you’?” His menacing voice made you remember of just how Scaramouche liked to explore everyone’s limits and capacities just to make himself more proud.

You had fallen for these tricks multiple times as a kid, so you eventually learned how to avoid them. And although you knew he was doing it again now, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to make him more invested in your capacity of being submissive.

“Scaramouche… or… Kunikuzushi… Raiden…” You used all your energy to make your response the most teasing it could to fuel his pleasure.

And it worked, since you saw his eyes and smirk widen in lust as he heard you perfectly answer him.

“Yeah… that’s right. I am your husband and will soon be the father of your children… it’s just very unfortunate that I can’t afford to cum inside you and impregnate you right now… because I really wanted to.” He answered in a low tone, his constant breathing taking over his voice, speeding up his thrusts to a more tiring one, like he was beginning to get seriously involved with the moment.

You felt so sinful on allowing yourself to be so kinky and aroused with Scaramouche’s kinky personality too, but God would forgive you for this, wouldn’t he? He is such a nice person… he can feel that you’re just trying to feel your loved one again, right?

“You’re mine, Y/N… mine, mine, mine…” He grunted, leaning down again, but this time to kiss you with all his hunger and passion.

And before you could hug him again, he grabbed both your wrists who were gripping the pillow again and locked them right there, having full control of you. And you, in pleasure at feeling so confident to let him deal with you as he wished, arched your back up and widened the gap between your legs, allowing the mess of the sex between your hips to have even more depth.

It didn’t matter if your brain barely had any oxygen to process everything that was going on, Scaramouche still knew exactly how to bring you to ecstasy even if he got the chance to have sex with you once without even having an orgasm. Did he really study that much in France? It even made you jealous for a quick moment before your mind went numb again because of the lack of air that passed through your mouth in that kiss.

And Scaramouche was mean enough to force your tongue follow his in the deepest corners of your mouth, taking over anything that you had control of at that point. But don’t worry, Scaramouche was struggling on his own. He was giving the job of keeping himself on top of you only to his arms, which was causing an agonizing pain that he was trying to ignore. His sloppy socks were also making hard for his feet to keep his hips at that perfect angle that gave sharp thrusts at your weak spots, needing to crawl up again multiple times.

Luckily, he was feeling something build up inside his crotch, meaning that both your agonies would be done soon.

He sped up his rythym, causing you to clench around him once again for that momentary peak. It really felt like you were simply sucking him in rather than him thrusting.

He suddenly separated your tongues and leaned up his entire torso at the same time. His hands also moved back to your hips, pulling them up to successfully thrust you rough and fast as he smirked in pleasure of miring your defeated body shaking and trembling in rythym of his violent sex with hungry, widened eyes.

Due to the new position and rhythm, the bed begun doing the classic cranky noises whenever it moved up and down too. But, honestly… you guys had locked the door, in a took at second floor of a mansion where music was taking over everyone’s ears in the first floor… why the fuck would you care about it?

Your hands, no matter how weak they felt, moved to his wrists, simply hugging and caressing them in acceptation of his control over you, almost telling him that you desired him to keep controlling you until it ached. Your head was also thrown back as a reaction to his brutality, also feeling something build up inside your crotch.

“You’re gonna cum too, aren’t you? It’s getting way too sloppy down here…” He scoffed as before finally allowed himself to also fully focus on bringing an orgasm to both of you like a dog in heat.

His head arched all the way up too, beginning to also focus on feeling every single curve of your wet walls surrounding him perfectly. He was so focused on pleasing himself with your defeat rather than your pussy that he didn’t realize just how well you were taking him inside you.

“So fucking tight and warm f’me… it’s addicting, I’ll be honest..!” He used all his remaining energies to make that comment, and you accepted it like he had complimented your dress.

That peak felt like heaven to the both of you, but before you two could turn off your minds from each other and appreciate the perfection of the sex happening between your hips, all the orgasm that had been built up to this point suddenly bursted out disastrously from both your systems, causing a deep groan to come out of him and a loud scream to come out of you.

Scaramouche was still paying attention to the moment because he knew he couldn’t finish inside you, so as soon as he felt his dick pulse hard because of his seed aching to come out, he pulled out from you and covered his tip with a hand, twitching in the agony of it wishing it was still shoved inside you as it spilled seed inside your womb while you simply allowed your own fluids to overcome your insides until it was tipping on your entrance.

Scaramouche was so shaky that it actually brought him to stop smirking and hiss with his teeth gritting on each other, still miring the scene of the disaster you two created and the cream pie in your entrance, swollen in red.

“Fuck…” He grunted, taking his hand to his eyes when his dick finally stopped spilling cum, getting annoyed at the mess it was. “Stay right there… I’ll take care of this mess.” He said, back to his normal voice tone as he crawled away form your body.

And now that fresh air could reach your body, you could finally feel just how sweaty you had gotten. You still had dress on, so you knew that the maids of the home would not have a fun time cleaning it up. Your makeup was probably also completely ruined too but you couldn’t confirm it. Scaramouche was probably feeling it too, since he also had clothes on, even more than you.

You couldn’t even tell where Scaramouche had headed because you all did was focus on staring the rooftop, but he soon came back with his hands rubbing each other under a cloth, another one in his pocket, and with the clothes he had taken away from you.

“I’ll tell the people downstairs you suddenly got sick, okay? Don’t worry, they have no idea what a person looks like after sex, they like to keep themselves ‘pure’ after all…” He explained as he wiped out your cream pie and put your panties and pantyhose back to their places in you.

And right after, he pulled out the other cloth in his pocket, folded it some times, rested it on your forehead and covered you with the sheets of the bed to make the play of ‘being sick’ more believable to whoever would come in to check on you.

“Expect me to knock on your window every night from now on, ok? Just like I did as a kid. I’ll be coming up to tell you how our little plan is doing and how it will work and to also check up on you.” He said with a surprisingly cute smile as he patted the top of your head and kissed your forehead, even it was covered by the cloth. “See you soon, my love, I love you.” He said before leaning up again and walking towards the door while rearranging his tie, closing it so gently that you couldn’t even hear its knock.

“I told you it would work, Y/N… if only I could show you the face the priest made when I gave him the money to make a fake marriage certificate… it was hilarious..! But it doesn’t matter to you now, does it? I know it’s hard to keep up with me, but this is the only way we can go for a fourth kid…”

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