#Wiseman clothing

[wildmelon]

daphne wiseman of mind blind 🧠🛍️💅🏼

by @mindblindbard!

whew this is a big lookbook! i’ve been working on daphne’s wardrobe for almost nine months now 🤯 mind blind is really special to me for many reasons, but a huge one is how it exemplifies just how much little choices can build character development. all it took was that chapter 1 option to have the mc sleep on bamboo sheets because she “likes a little luxury” and daphne walked into my head fully formed! the game has so much heart and humor, the personality choices are so unique and thoughtful, i could go on and on but 10/10 recommend, more on daphne below.

i had originally had little notes written by daphne on her outfits, but i scrapped them because it looked too cluttered. however they were cute and important to her character so i’m just gonna write them here!

everyday: can you believe grayson still won’t take a hint despite the baby tees daphne wears?! she lives to make him blush. also those vintage von dutch jeans are her prized possession

formal: spot the dress she wears to reese’s dinner party! the rest are for blending in at nick’s unity events-- enough to avoid the press while still catching the eye of an attractive stranger.

athletic: daphne puts on these outfits to walk on the treadmill for twenty minutes then take selfies

sleep: nick and sally constantly roast daphne for her obsession with cute pjs. nick complains that the money she spends on nice pajama sets is a major drain on resources

party: daphne’s favorite clothes to wear to the underground music venues she attends every weekend. music, especially live music, is her best coping strategy. the attractive company also helps keep her mind off grayson.

swim: daphne had big ideas for a post-graduation trip with sally to turks and caicos. though the vacation fell through, she kept the outfits. 

hot weather: some remnants of her coconut girl phase, and rarely weather appropriate. 

cold weather: no these are not all warm enough for chicago winters, but fashion is pain. also daphne rarely leaves the house without her headphones on

[caramelcleopatraa]

Needy

pairings : Roman Reigns x Black/Shy Reader

plot : you are having a calm night in while roman is on the road. while watching one of his matches, you start to get hot and bothered. Unbeknownst to you, he's already come back from his trip.

wc : 1,800~

x : a drabble I came up with a few days ago. shouts out to the lovely @harmshake for motivating me to post this / excuse any errors that you see :( I've practically been writing all day.

In all honesty, you weren’t a needy person. “I never need, I always want” was the motto that your friends came up with that perfectly describes you. You’ve always taken what you got and never complained, no matter the circumstances. Sure, you knew your boundaries and what you loved to see, hear, and experience. But you never found yourself asking for more of someone or something. So you questioned yourself on why you were lying in your bed, lightly massaging your folds, trying to string together incoherent thoughts and words, with the image of Roman replacing all thoughts in your mind.

Let's back track

It’s a calm Friday afternoon. You finally got a day off from your job, and you weren’t going to do jack. shit. Instead of being productive, your day is filled with the smell of popcorn, and the large tv in your living room playing a show you kept promising your friend you’d give a try. You took the time you had to catch up on everything, in fact. You already decided that this whole weekend would be you catching up on shows and anime you are majorly behind on. Meanwhile, Roman is still on the road with his cousin and the wiseman, which is something that you grew used to. He was scheduled to come back on Sunday, so you were left with an empty house. You loved the off chances you got an empty house though. But your mind couldn’t help but think about how he’s been doing. Which led to you going on peacock and rewatching his crown jewel match with LA Knight. You were always his number one supporter. You honestly loved watching your man work, commanding and demanding with every step inside the ring. 

You can’t help yourself as your eyes drift over his bronzed torso. His broad shoulders, his beautiful arms, and his sturdy hands. You observed him as he took his time toying with his opponent and the audience, always flashing his irresistible smirk. You find yourself shifting on the couch to get comfortable, and fidgeting with your ring, trying to give your hands something to do. As soon as you get comfortable and lift your head to look at the screen, Roman has Knight in a headlock while smugly smiling and saying “I call the shots. I call the shots baby.” Your thighs unconsciously rub together at his baritone voice. You missed hearing his voice. On the other side of the house, next to you on the couch, directly in your ear. Of course you miss him. You couldn’t go a day without missing his presence, his hypnotizing and tempting presence.

Your hands slowly rub your thighs as you watch the match transpire. You adjusted yourself one last time, letting your thighs part under your fur blanket. You tease yourself by running your hands from your knee to your inner thigh, never taking your eyes off the screen. You didn’t dare to look away. An exhale you didn’t know you were holding exited you as your fingers slowly ghosted over your clothed heat. You continue letting your fingers lightly feather against your core, until your finger presses against your shorts, resulting in a small gasp. You started to make your way to your pulsing clit, rubbing yourself through your shorts. Your hips move and grind to match the pace you were setting, along with small mewls and whimpers that left your mouth while roman raised his title in front of the crowd. You always found it sexy when he did anything with his title. Him swinging his belt, him showing it off by raising it above his head, him caressing and adjusting it. Hell, even him just putting it on did something to you.

Your right hand stayed busy on your clit while your left hand trailed up your body to your breasts. Softly kneeling them and pinching your nipples, like he would. You wanted to call him. see him, hear him, anything. You felt around the couch for your phone and clicked his contact to facetime him. Your phone laid propped up on your coffee table decor while you impatiently waited for your sexy ass man to answer. 

Facetime Failed

Fuck

You reached out to call again, but you stopped yourself. You figured there was a good reason why he wasn’t picking up. He was always one to answer his phone. To say the least, you were horny. Honestly embarrassed that seeing him in a match made you such a mess. You grabbed your phone and pranced upstairs to your room. You settled comfortably in your shared bed while you picked up where you left off. You didn’t even need the tv to encourage you anymore. You were already imagining what he was going to do to you when he got home. How his calloused hands would caress you gently before pinning you to the bed. How he would lick and suck every inch of your body. The daydreams in your head made you dizzy with arousal. The first time you ever felt needy. To say that you wanted him was an understatement. You needed him here, laying beside you, touching you, kissing you, fucking you. 

Your hands worked to pull your shorts and your panties off, discarding them somewhere around the room. Your fingers impatiently rubbed your clit and massaged your slick folds. Soft moans occupy the space around you, making the tension in the room rise. Your fingers gravitate to your pussy and easily slips through your folds. Your hands are already setting the pace that makes you go crazy, as you could no longer try to stay quiet. A second finger is added and your hips buck to meet your fingers halfway. “mmmh fuck”, Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you go faster, using your other hand to rub your aching clit. You were already so worked up, that you could cum at any moment. “aaahh- oh shit!” You tease yourself, playing with the place and adding little slaps to your clit, just like he does. Your stomach starts to tighten, and your well formed words become babbles and whines. Normally you would be ashamed that you got to this point all by yourself, but you didn’t care. You craved this feeling more than anything, and you were willing to chase it. “oooohhh- fuck i miss you babbyy. uughh shit i’m cominngg!” Your back arches off the mattress as you feel yourself getting close. Your body starts to shake and your pussy tightens around your fingers as you cum. A mix of screams and whines leave your mouth as you start to feel high from the orgasm you just had. Your chest visibly rises up and down, desperately trying to catch your breath.

“Damn mama, you miss me that badly?” A voice that you know too damn well. You quickly sit up and see your husband leaning on the door frame, wearing his irresistible smirk. You’re fumbling to try and cover up what just happened, not knowing it was too late for that. ‘What do I tell him? What lie can I make up that makes sense in this situation?’ Mentally you’re freaking out, but you’re wearing the same surprised  smile since he announced himself. “umm- how are you- you were supposed to be back on sunday- umm- shit, is today sunday?” Your sentence were cutting off one another. You nervously giggled while pretending to look for your phone. To no surprise, he caught your bluff immediately. “Sweetheart, I don't know why you’re shy. I’ve already seen everything under those covers.” He said seductively, walking towards the bed to join you. 

The bed dips as he slides next to you, teasing you with a smile as he closes the gap between you two. “So, what’s got my wife all hot and bothered? hmm?” He chuckles while lightly stroking your face. You almost forget that he asked you a question and melt into his touch. Your eyes shy away from him as you answer “just missed you, that’s all”. His hand comfortably wraps around your neck as he inches closer once more, pulling you into an intoxicating kiss. Your lips moved in harmony with his. It started off gentle, interrupting long kisses with playful pecks. Roman’s grip on your neck loosens and his hands rest on your full hips, pulling you to his body and deepening the kiss. Your arms snake up his body and around his neck, removing all options to back out. His lips trail down to your jaw and slowly inches towards your neck, his warm breath coast over your neck before harshly sucking on your sweet spot. You bit your lip in hopes that you could silence your moans, but roman wasn't having that. Roman’s right hand kept you in place while his left hand snaked down the small of your back down to your plush ass. The combination of him squeezing your ass and sucking on your neck made you go crazy. 

You couldn’t hold back your moans anymore, he was making you feel too good. “Missed hearing you baby.” He said breathily, watching you unwind from his touch. Your leg hooked onto his as you grinded against his length, making a mess on his pants under the sheets. He pulled away to observe the marks he gave you as you stared at him in awe. You could never get over how beautiful he was. His hands slipped under your arms to your back to unhook your bra and pulled it off you to expose your chest. You were completely naked, but felt bold. Your small hands pushed his shoulders down to lay flat on the bed. You took the opportunity to straddle him, tracing down his arms and guiding them around your body, caging you in. Your faces were barely an inch away from each other. You lose yourself in your husband’s facial features, scanning every part of him. You catch eyes lingering on his beard. His salt and pepper beard always caught your attention. He catches you staring at him and you were unable to stop him before he made a smart remark. “You like it?” He smiled, showing off his pearly whites. Your eyes connected with his chocolate ones. You felt needy again, he didn’t have to do much and yet, you felt like you needed more of him. “Like what?” You said, mirroring his smile and lightly giggling. He followed suit, chuckling along with you, his laugh vibrating through his chest. “You’re staring at it like you like it mama.” You felt your heart flutter at the nickname. You were experiencing so many feelings at once. You wanted to make him feel what you were feeling. You wanted to make him feel good. You started to roll your hips against him again, earning a deep groan from him as you kept eye contact with him.

“How ‘bout i show you how much i like it?”

( so I was thinking about making this a part one and a part two. later on, would post the full version of this. I just wanted to post this as my first "long fic". lemme know what you guys want me to write next lovelies 🪴🤎

~ your hippie author )

[the-face-in-the-mirror]

You ain't never seen this woman wear more clothes than you will this time around. Here, at long last, is the Merlin redesign!

Merlin, aside from being a mage, has always been presented as a researcher and type of scientist, doing constant experiments and potion-making. Wearing little to no clothing just isn't conducive in a lab environment, so Merlin now has gloves, goggles, and a bunch of little things on her belt to help with foraging ingredients for potions and carrying supplies with her. Merlin always seemed like the practical type, despite what her design insinuated, so I've decided to reflect that more this time around. As for the silver-bottomed boots, I imagine there are quite a few races/subraces who can be deterred by silver; additionally, silver is rumored to be able to expand awareness, increase intuition, and provide better brain function. Though, Merlin would utilize it for the former reason rather than the latter.

You may notice... a few things. A few things that are quite obvious, such as her three eyes which are now red instead of gold, the claws, and the fangs. I never really thought much was done with Merlin being the Sin of Gluttony; the hunger for knowledge is a good subversion of expectations, but I decided to add some more to that. The thing in question is that Merlin is now a vampire, permanently cursed after she successfully tricked the Demon King and the Supreme Deity. For the destruction of Belialuin, she was not only branded but also defanged as a punishment for her insatiable hunger. Jokes on them, though, since she made artificial fangs for herself, which are removable. Also, her being fully covered is not only for lab purposes, but also to protect her from most sunlight.

The third eye, on the other hand, is a new trait that I've added to the Wiseman Clan. I know that the Wiseman Clan was literally just comprised of a bunch of mages, but I felt they should have something more than just being super smart and magical to differentiate them from the other clans. Anyone can learn magic, of course, but it's believed that their third eye is what allowed the Wiseman Clan to achieve their higher states of intelligence and ability; whether or not this is actually true is unknown.

And that's Merlin! It might be a lot, but Gluttony is all about excess, after all, am I right ladies?

Let me know what you think, if ya'll are so inclined, and I'll see you all in a bit!

[crxssjae]

Three Letter Words, Please

Summary:

Sew their paths again, time to live the three words Cody ached to hear from Roman after three months apart.

a/n: First time writing a codyroman fic and personally, it's pretty fun. This fic set in Pre-SummerSlam 2024 before SummerSlam began.

You can read the other fics from my WWE masterlist here.

"Three Letter Words, Please" is posted on AO3 (here) and Wattpad (here)

Word Count: 1,007

Warning(s): 18+ only (minors DNI), NSFW, explicit language, smut, sprinkles of angst, some errors

__________

Does he feel the same?

Once reentered the company, everyone greeted a warm welcome back. After another simpering along, they exchanged embraces and discussions about what occurred during his three-month absence: storylines, plans, let alone hilarious travel moments tickled the bones with impression. Laughter from ear to ear, neither dismissed his happiness, they've earned it.

Cousins, friends, family, and Hunter were glad he returned. For Paul, an emotional, appreciative mess, went on a twenty-minute professional rant how much he missed his in-ring presence. Headaches were the most part, though worth understanding without asking why. He achieved the title "Wiseman" for a reason.

Anyone questioned whether or not the current Undisputed Champion noticed the news.

Surprise, Cody knew and pleased in thoughts while professional wise concealed. Wry smile, hums under his breath, tilted his head with a ponder, pretended those antics were innocent. If anyone mentioned the same name, his cycle replayed.

An asshole, a good asshole. Rumors came full circle, indicating he's diagnosed with mood swings. Insufficient like he taught any better assumed behaving like a good boy. Those close to Cody unfazed behind his true actions for twenty years or more, the current reasoning hasn't been given.

Grave mistake or a good luck charm?

Brought into a mixed situation, avoided reflecting the second choice to test the waters for the first. What could've done not being hard-headed calling himself a "genius".

He should've said no. Again, hard-headed.

Thickened air of intoxicating musk, now beneath him on the couch; clothes strewn the floor. Lamp across the table dimmed low, half of the space shaded close to pitch black. Heavy breaths echoed in his locker room, blocking the silence. Neither gave a damn about the occurrence outside, occupied themselves with craving.

Cody stared into his gaze, their emotions mirrored. Half-lidded, glassy, desire. Bareness squished together, dark hair locks dangling and tickling his skin. The one he waited after for such a while: Roman Reigns.

Nails grazed Roman's back left visible marks. Cody's arms encircled, unable to let loose on Roman. Face buried, breathy grunts muffled in Cody's neck while his hips rutted. Upsurge of pleasure done the best for Cody, can't seem to let go.

Three months of emptiness.

Three months devoid closeness.

Regardless of the absence, Roman forever found multiple methods of pleasing. Damn him.

Although lust overtook distress, Cody pondered with doubt.

Does he know?

From Road to WrestleMania 39 to WrestleMania 40, both confided in the public eye after intertwining hands and warm cuddles. Slow, steady, this led into sexual desire behind closed doors. Neither forget affection or second decisions.

Eyelids shut tight, the sensation ignited Cody's abdomen. An appetite he can't handle. Roman's whisper of sweet nothings ear to ear, an addiction Cody became attentive per night or day.

"Damn, baby." Roman's husky voice spiked Cody's body. "Eager as hell waitin' with your legs spreading wide earlier."

Elicited a squeak, Cody bit his lower lip to hide any more noises, face flushed when Roman emitted an amused chuckle. Two times worse the embarrassment.

Few words stumbled, impossible to respond. Only whimpers.

That's because you were out for so long, I had to touch myself— oh shit! His brain jolted. Eyes rolled back in the head. One of the spots Roman penetrated made his back arched from the furniture. So g-good…

Roman snickered. "Thinking too hard. Guess I'm on the lead." Large hands slipped from thighs towards the waist and gripped him into place. "You can do better than whine."

"I'm— I'm trying if you stop teasing," Cody grumbled, legs tightened at Roman's waist. "I swear, one antic from you to get us caught—"

"Relax, baby, damn." He stifled another snicker bubbling his chest. "We're not getting caught on my first day back, sure as hell won't be ruined. But I promise you," A gentle nibble to Cody's earlobe, warmth of his breath tickled, "I'm here now."

To leave me again?

Once more, guilt panged the heart of Cody. Eyes closed, tried his hardest to repel the worries, the predictions between their relationship, to focus the present in front of him.

Behind Roman's words gave incertitude depending on how it swayed until it died down. Cody may handle their one year long-distance relationship, but the chills anticipated and questions if Roman cared.

A palm caressed his cheek; sudden fondness grounded in place. He took sight again, and blinked.

Concern etched the expression. Malice downplayed, nothing to shame. The usual look seen through the psyche, of how his true feelings were revealed from the public.

Roman knew.

"Afraid if I'm gone… again?” He said, no amusement in his tone of voice.

Cody silenced himself from speaking so he could continue.

"You're afraid if I'm gone, if I disappear again, if having sex with you was a facade of avoiding you, I wouldn't care, right?"

Nothing shut down the genuine heart in Roman. Cody can't get past the honesty. Nonetheless, the misgiving is still unforgettable.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Cody! Always ruin the moment, always overthinking!

Roman pressed his forehead against Cody's. Their breath mingled, it didn't help any if silence crawled in the room.

"I want to hear it," Cody begged, voice cracked. "Just one time."

"Hear what? What do you want me to say?" Roman asked, tongue lapped over his lips.

"How do you feel," Now his turn cupping Roman's face, the beard grazed the palms and fingers. "How much you miss me, wanting to touch, kiss, anything I know. And… how you want to tell after being gone." Cody looked him in the eyes, one tear rushing down his cheek. "One time…. please, Roman?"

The room muted except their synced soft breaths. A pure confession. After not having each other's side: one had a break, another tried to step up the company along the legacy as the Undisputed Champion.

Back together again, if anymore breaks hogging Roman's schedule, many chances and relief are made.

Roman took a deep breath. Cody, now with a smile, hearing his boyfriend's true feelings with three words.

"I miss you."

__________

Thank you for reading!

Tagging: @harmshake @afterdarkprincess @wrestlingprincess80 @alyyaanna @stripeydani

[heilith]

Sage Blossoms

Another something for Scribbles and Drabbles 2023, for this stunning piece of art (clicky) by @clumsycopy. This one suddenly grew into a longfic, so yeah...it's just the beginning. Buckle up, have a pleasant ride.

@fall-for-tolkien

Sage Blossoms, Part 1

Miserable and soaking wet.

Half-dressed. And sorely regretful no one was there to hear the cheerful rhythm your teeth were making in vain attempts to meet.

You could do with a laugh.

Or with an embrace.  

The drawbar had always been too heavy for you. You’d never been able to budge it on your own, not with your ludicrous bony hands.

The horses behind the thick oaken door were still raging. You prayed it was not a rat this time. That last incident with a parton’s horse cost the inn twice your yearly wage. You hadn’t had a new piece of cloth on you since.  

The rainwater was meandering down your face, sprouting new and new rivulets. The skin it touched was quickly turning numb.

The smell came first… A strange blend of dead embers and no longer living flesh. For an instant it seemed to you it was oozing from between the doors to the stables.

The thought of fire was far scarier than the thought of rats.

A horse inside let out a high-pitched shriek, making your hair stand on end.

You shrank back and choked on a short outcry at finding yourself locked between a pair of arms, reaching for the drawbar.  

The presence you’d collided with let out a sound, too, a something you could hear coming out of a mouth curled up in self-ridicule.

Strange as it was, it calmed you down.

A dozen years of serving lord and vagabonds had taught you to know a danger at the first syllable it sent in your direction.

The look you ventured at the man did nothing but add to your surmise. If anything, it was his slouching countenance that reassured you completely. That, and his eyes, the best feature on an otherwise unhandsome face.

He was holding your gaze silently, perhaps, waiting for you to be the first to say something.

It was hard to look away, no matter how troublesome a feeling the expression in his eyes was giving you. He knew exactly how much he had scared you, and what measure you had measured him with, and how by now you had no doubts that unsettling smell was coming off him, after all. And he was jeering at you, you could tell it for sure, in a way a wiseman could jeer at a baby trying to read its first word.

“Why you?” said he at last.

His voice had the same ashy quality to it as his whole self, as if his throat was burnt.  

“The grooms won’t return till the morning.”

The question brought you to the reality where your nightgown and the poor excuse of a shawl were still dripping with cold water and the horses were still going insane, shut in four walls with something that had scared them to death.

“I’m sorry, I have to…”

He didn’t let you finish.

The drawbar came out of the slots without a spare hitch. You couldn’t expect him to dispose of it with enough care, but he did, leaning the thing against the jamb in a weirdly habitual manner.

The dark mouth of the doorframe had swallowed him before you could utter a word of protest.

The beasts screamed so loud you jumped back faintheartedly, giving up the intention of following him.  

A century had passed in feverish struggle with yourself. You had to be there, and you had no courage to step over the threshold.

Your senses were strained to the limit that didn’t seem possible.

To your relief, little by little the clamour started dying down. The horses were falling silent one after another. First there were four of them, then two, then the last one sobbed quietly and all you could hear was a monotonous raspy whisper. Eventually it trailed off, too, leaving the rain the only thing to beget any sound at all.

There was a fresh cut on his cheek, when he stepped out into the yard again. In the scant moonlight the streaks of blood looked almost black to you.   

“Go back to bed, child,” dropped he without any feeling, “You do not wish to die in sickness.”

His breath was coming out weary, too weary for you not to put down your guard once more. With the sense you could find no name for you felt that whatever he had done had cost him more than it was worth.  And you deemed yourself guilty for that.

It was a silly move.

An obvious mistake.

The way his whole body convulsed at the touch of your shawl against his cheek made that clearer than daylight. In that brief moment your eyes met his again, there was such fury in them it made you nauseous.  

But you went on with it till you wiped away all the traces of blood and dirt and could be sure the wound was clean at least by the look.   

“Take care of it, please,” you said firmly.

The stables remained unlocked.

But you didn’t even think of it, as you turned away to leave.

[thescribeoflostmemories]

*coughs* Pants in kakegurui au with reader as a (personal) housepet

Let's say the only reason Pantalone is holding back himself is because you were his benefactor when he first arrived to the academy, losing to him on purpose so that he could pick some cash up for himself everytime it's fund collection time. Everyone knows this isn't some special treatment for him since you do it for everyone who's lacking in funds (for the student council's fund collection) but Pantalone on the other hand is like, *lol*(classic template, I'm sure yk what he does alr)

And pants being the sly bastard he is, uses the cash he won from you to gamble with others, slowly *leveling up* till he becomes the student council treasurer now.

Oh how he wishes he can just talk with you like the other students do but he's just so shy *lol more to insecure but it's ur call here* so when he heard the news you lost in a big game because you've been tricked by one of the students you tried to save, it's show time for Pants *lol*

He acts hella fast too, he won't give you the time to recover from your debts so boom, fund collection time, you are screwed big time.

now you are inevitably a housepet and Pants didn't waste time in trying to be your saviour *lol*, oh you should have noticed how he's the one who has been pulling strings behind your back. You are in fact, not a bad gambler so he ensures that no one will play with you. (The rest is your call)

But one scene I'd love to see (if possible) is probably Pantalone taking you in as his personal housepet (maybe reader lost their sanity by pants' sweet words and the fake security he gives reader) , while your status remains a housepet, the collar and leash on you definitely warns people to not toy with you unless they want to *lol* become one.

Classic and simple but hey, maybe you know a way to add spices :3 (tia *rolls*)

Silent Night

Original title: “Lord of the Night”, " Mine, Mine, Mine! “

Kakeguri Au

Yandere! Shy(?), soft (?) Gambler!Pantalone x house pet! Reader

(Songs listened to while writting: Stalker’s tango by autohearts, Something no everything is wrong by Madoka, whims of fate persona5, Elite four pokemon gen 5)

“Assuming both of them are teens, and mentions of alcohol and abuse of substance is present. But either way, Yandere isn’t a first choice for a healthy romance, not that I am judging by the way. Even if this reached 6,600 words, this work somehow feels so cheap in a way.”

- P of Li’mu

" Even if you have stayed true, the path one will take is ever treacherous and more despicable. Everyone has their own shadow to deal. And every Wiseman is a fool. “ - Scribe, The overseer of Li’mu.

—

“Where is she? It has been at least an hour!" Walking over to the young student who was supposed to be the overseer of the appointed match, they had just received the notification from their cell phone.

Your seventeenth attempt to grasp upon the reigns that taunted you so by the coined cruelty of your own carelessness.

“Where, is, she?" Repeating your statement like a revenant hungry for flesh, wanting the answer in your mind to be vanquished.

The word irked you further once you heard the nickname they associate with you. “Bonny, she backed–” the reasoning is more than enough to be furious, clenched fists pushed the ill-fortunate student away.

You then proceed to storm out of the common room, seeing Pantalone chatting with a student who had a yellow armband.

Hearing a hint of their conversation, “tell that jester, the appointment—” Hushing themselves once they noticed you.

" Ah, senpai, how was it?" His veracious ghost of a smile made present upon facing you. Waving a dismissive gesture at the schoolmate away, in which did so.

“ Fie. " Words came out more like a roaring sizzle of a fire, indication of another failed attempt.

“ Let’s get you home Senpai, I have some new clothes for you to try on. “ Without fear, he showed the paper bags that have the high end named brands.

At home, walking out of the curtains of the walk-in closet is you, grumbling. Even though it is your own abode, you are not sure how to feel about it now that the Regrator is a frequenter in your comfort zone.

" Are you comfortable with that? " Pantalone asks, shuffling the deck of cards in his hands seamlessly wedging the cards between the others. Eyes closed as he faced you, you who wears the gaudy pink punk-like aesthetic ensemble. All you need is bubble gum to complete the look of a rebellious teen.

“ I would not say uncomfortable but, " You sighed, putting on the fingerless leather gloves and flexing your hand. “ Still, wearing something like this, is borderline of the school’s dress code. ” You raised your concerns, the choice of style is seemingly at random. He knew you prefer a more lovely coloured hue hence he got the one you might ‘endure’ the most.

It's fishnet like hosiery, black leather boots. Dreamy coloured lower article, matching sleeveless top, loose jacket. You look far from being who you were before this whole mess. Especially that black lacy necklace you wear, adding a tiny cute bell to it. The purpose of it? He says it is the latest trend, not that you care about it.

Pantalone frowned a bit, and put away the deck of cards, " Sorry, but I have to atleast make you wear something like this. You know how they act if they know you aren't being treated like a 'housepet'." True, with all the false information circulating, you were sure Pantalone wouldn’t come out of his room for a while. Much like when news spread when your ownership fell to him.

You then sat down on the plush bed of yours, crossing your legs and arms facing him. Is there anything in this room that is not ‘gifted’ by him? The decor, the bedding, clothing—

Pantalone called out, suddenly, "You look so," The bespeckled young teen smiled shyly. “ Stunning in that." He continued his words, especially with how ‘tall and intimidating’ you were compared to him in those high boots.

“Pantalone, please," Another sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the pile of gifts you received from him. It doesn’t feel like a gift for some odd reason. But all of these were the things you found interesting and loved, like that latest game you wanted, or that stuff toy you were eying, even clothes for you to wear whenever he brings you to meetings or indulgent parties he was invited to. Perhaps he doesn’t want you to miss out on things he has?

Pushing up his eyeglasses that reflected a fragment of yourself on it. "You don't have to worry about that, you can repay me back, once you found an opponent that could spell out freedom." His signature thinly veiled smile that seems relaxed in your presence.

Adding to that he replied with, "You'll find them, because I trust that brain of yours to think up a plan." Him being the treasurer does give him some perks of possibly scraping a few zeroes into his name. But you knew he wouldn’t stoop to such a low blow, especially that he prefers a more ‘sophisticated’ approach.

You were about to ask him of that strange person earlier, though. Quickly silencing that trivial thought. It was not your place to question what a person entails, no matter how strange and unfamiliar they are.

“It is not easy to scout out opponents,” Given how much you were willing to bet. A meagre brooch that passed down to you as an heirloom is considered a mere child’s decoration to them. But to pawn it, and pay the compounded interest is not ideal.

“I would have thought others would think I would be easy prey to battle considering my connection to you. ” Another concerning thing is that he was recently promoted into the newly established circle called; ‘The Court’ as the ‘King of Coins’. With that kind of title, it would have garnered much attention to you as a chance of mooching off of him. But the juxtaposition of your initial plan, it might as well crumble to dust.

Eyes closed, as you tapped your finger against our arm, "Don't worry, you can just depend on me for now.” Pantalone gestures over to the basket woven object next to the bags of designer clothing,

" Come on now, I got some sandwiches and snacks. I even got a reserve space for us at Jovino’s.” It was almost like you could imagine him wagging his tail, if he has one that is. Opening your eyes just to face away from him with an aspirated expression.

“Pantalone, I appreciate that you would at least take this a tad seriously.” Voicing another concern of yours to him, it is not like a housepet to have a say against their owner. That is at least one thing that sets you apart from them, you are merely ill-stricken with fortune.

That seemed to make him frown, "What's so wrong in having a break once in a while, senpai?" He pouted, it is just so frustrating to see the cul-de-sac of your labour. “You do not have to push yourself," the Rex of earthly desires huffed, crossing his arms. Though, seemingly to understand your point.

Your last opponent, Miss Patisilinia, one of the somewhat richer students yet within your reach of having a higher chance for freedom, had stood you up at the last moment. Like the others who you challenged fell and failed to obtain the winds' breath. Choices thawing thinner and inconceivable each time you try. Treasured assets on hand were resorted to liquefying, thus transferring to the Regrator whenever you lost and he won it back for you. Sitting down on the bed, its plush memory foam sank from the weight.

You can't keep this up, especially the dripping pile of hallowed promises being shouldered by him. ‘Are you even productive enough that another person will have to sweep you off your feet?!’

"How long will this string of mishaps continue?" Pulling on your hair and throwing yourself back on the bed, you’re at wits end. This never ending cess pool game ping-pong of unpaid debt and loans are the heaviest burden of any gambler.

The investor of the hundreds if not dozens of assets under his keen watch tried to comfort you, “ Senpai, please–" Face softened, coming closer and leaning down on the bed next to you to place his gloved hand on your shoulder.

How vexing! To think he claimed himself as your Kohai…

Brushing him off, gently. Turning your back on him while still laying on the bed, mumbling in a low voice you said: "I, this is insufferable." Even though he hasn’t done anything to harm nor force you to do stuff for him, it is kind of him, compared to what others could force such repulsive commands they’ll give you. He does bring you along to his trips, meals, and seemingly keen on listening to your financial advice.

"You could find someone, you just haven't met them yet," Pantalone leaned his head on your side. “Wait a little longer okay, they’re just provoking you to lose your temper.” While that is true, you don’t have anything worthwhile anymore by that time comes.

Much like the previous school vice-president; Oscar, once a wealthy man now turned into a tumbling jester upon loss to one of the Court.

Your throat feels like someone is suffocating you.“How much do I owe you?” one-hundred and eighty-five school days since you were in liability. Those insulting names they called you; ‘Bonny this, Bonny that.’ You were not some sycophant to Pantalone.

Pantalone hesitates as he dictates the amount you lost and he gained. “Do you want me to put it in the journal for you?” You were never fond of putting things on paper. Though certainly grateful that he did not place a compounded interest rate on it nor ask anything much more.

Not even facing him and letting him lay on your side still, “No, no need.” Before you were turned into a house pet, he was a considerably casual gambler, in your eyes at least. Always hanging from the sidelines after you had taught him the ways of the school. Despite his accumulated ranks, he had much rather spend his time with you.

Always so aware of this growing affections, politely declining of his yearning grandiose amore so he would find another that would suit him.

“What am I going to do with you?” The bespeckled, inky haired lad sighed, sitting up from the bed knowing he might not be able to convince you to go on a picnic with him. Not in this state at least. “We really need to loosen you up a bit…” Adding that statement.

With a clenched fist that scrunched up the bedding, “I do not need rest, what I need are answers to solutions. I cannot just be idle,” Dismissive of his idea of being so still, being on standby only feasts upon the Damocles that hangs over you.

Muttering as well as honoring you, “Senpai.” Lazy eyes that stared back at him, realising the singed contemplation of his words.

“ My apologies, I was just–” you say, trying to retract your sentence.

His gloves hand gave pause. " It is understandable considering your position, but please, as for who I am now, I am responsible for your well being. So, please, just this once: humour me. " He pleaded, with softened stillness. Even with his plea, you know your answer to him out of contrite.

Lights erratically move, distasteful music thrums through the speakers of the dance room floor. Laughter of haughty, grim socialites made clear. This is not your forte; Abuse of substance, intimate comfort and loose tongue of conflict, it all reign supreme in the Jester’s playground.

Thanks to Pantalone for the early reservations, still wearing a similar attire from last week now lay resting behind the trinket curtains that poorly give privacy, one cascade down on one side. Sitting on the semi-circle couch with a table in the middle, across from you is a briefcase of his.

Then entered the beast that swaggered “ Are you having fun, Senpai? " Smiled Pantalone, holding a bottle of champagne in his hand and pouring himself a glass that uncomfortably sits at the edge of the rim.

Holding in your tongue that you clearly do not want it to spill over. Hesitant hands held the thin stem of the glass before your resenting gaze peered at the sparkling money that flowed into the clear oubliette, a reflection returned even the most boldest gaze.

Only the booming silence between you in this false box of seclusion remained evident, it is concerning to know that the annual after finals party that promises darkness for depraved emotions. Blaring lights of multi-colored dangers and intangible noises that pass in and out to the other ear. The bottle of champagne was then placed at the table in front of you.

“ Senpai, you do not need to be so, uptight." His posture mimics one of yours, before carefully taking your own glass by the rim from you to grab your attention to him.

“ I have no words, but reserved for any actual opponent. “ And stayed silent you did. Stewing with self-made rejection and tears to brood about your own misery.

The ever artful smile on his face is still, strobing light of pristine dread hit his face. He then hums and gives the gold coloured champagne back to you.

“Since the night is still so young, how about we entertain your idea of freedom?" Standing over you as he raised his glass.

There it is, that uneasiness that settles in your gut. Switching from alert thoughts to another.

Staring at the flute wine that he proposed the prospect of your world cage to be open.

“Look around you, Senpai. Everyone is having fun except you. “ his own cup that greedily has his ooze rest almost readily to the top, only taking careless, shy sips of it. Controlled hands that move so freely, making gestures to the people of the dance floor, not caring for the singular drop of extravagant affluence on to the ground from his prize.

“ I will allow you to let loose, just this once." Pushing up the lenses to properly rest on the bridge of his nose.

“Have some fun,” he pulled out from the suitcase of what seemed to be a stack of 1000 yen similar to a smooth brick and tossed it onto the low table in front of you.

“A gift from me, to help you get started." He hesitated for a brief moment, trying to find the right word to not put a blow on what little dignity you have left.

“Why?” What you gave is an incomplete and incorrect phrase, my dear, it should be—.

“Because: as your Kohai, companion, and fellow schoolmate. It is not wrong to find a supporting pillar of strength for a time.” He replied with confidence, swirling the almost overflowing champagne in his hand that it was held so absent-minded-ly that’s been tainted.

But before you could muster up the strength to phrase your concerns, he raised his free hand. “I am well aware that you do not take charity lightly, which is why I propose we play a game; once that you have found yourself in a predicament,” He then raised his transparent glass to you, your face seemed to blend with the ever bubbly liquid.

" I shall step in, now knowing this gambling world has too many variations for one such as yourself.” He spoke as if he already knew the outcome and already decided your fate in a mere glance—.

‘But this could be our only chance.’ Muttered Es, a lone quiet voice of your own mind that rivaled your own Ego Rex. Yet the darkness that slither up to your eyes of a shadow that mirrored you.

‘Take it and be permanent in a state, or never take it and be forever mournful?’ You and I knew what must be done.

Without a word, you hastily took the dough that was presented to you. Its grainy texture of bills felt like it was meant to be savored, every sliver of it.

“ Very good, now, if you excuse me.” He then makes a toast before swiftly and voraciously gulping it in one go of the liquid gold in his hand followed by a server in muted colors collecting the empty container from him.

“ I shall leave you to your hunt; enjoy the night, Senpai.” The ravenous bespeckled young man bid you farewell for now with a shy look on his closed eyed smile before waving and leaving with the briefcase in hand.

Instead of just waiting for some sod to take the initiative, to think you’d be your own worst enemy; the worst kind of parasite, an opportunist.

___________

“Three of a kind!"

How quickly the tables have turned. Earlier you were so desperate for a breath of relief. Underhand tactics are below you, even if it does give leverage. The Ego Rex does not approve of it.

“Flush!"

Gasping, you are running out of time, four hundred quib and it still isn’t enough to ensure your freedom that drown out by the singer from the speaker; ‘Keep your focus���

Cheating hands that tried to play you into their game, it was clear you were not here to entertain the folly they wanted.

“Pay up!" Yelling out against the voices of the masses that cooped in this dreary game edifice, Simply esurient!

‘Win it’

Coughing out the smoke that the people rolled in lavished mold, the scent is ever nauseous enough to choke on it. The giggles from the gaggle of salacious ladies cooed and comforted the loser from his loss.

‘Maybe lose it all.’

Another hour has passed as you look down at the total winnings you have. It was not enough to satiate the looming debt that chained you. Any slip ups are not allowed, once you do– well, let us hope we do not need to think of it much.

‘So we roll the die, see where it may fall’

From there you spotted a game of sic bo. Your mind tells you it is a simple game, but you knew better than to blindly leave it all to chance.

Nearby are the whispers of wealth; ‘—Oh, to have dreams that are of grandeur!’ ‘ One such as thine should we the (?) feast upon the nines.’ ‘A little wait is all you need—’

Just as you were about to leave, taking a single step, a certain person caught your eye.

‘ — spin the wheel, see whom it may call.’

It was Patisilinia..!

“You!" Stomping towards her, pushing aside the other loitering faceless. She was playing a card game with three other students who wore a similar outfit as hers. Your hand placed on her shoulder and forced her to look at you.

You could see her clearly. Ruffled long black hair that covered one side of her face, and that unnerving eye that stared back at you. Even after the school day, she still wears the school uniform so boldly, the only difference is that she has a gold earring hanging on her earlobe.

No words came out from Patisilinia, instead a young man with long red hair stepped forward.

“ If it isn’t Little Bonny, savant of the Elite King of pentacles. Enjoying the night of ” A young flirtatious, slick red haired man winked. The wild right eye seemed to be glittering with lucre trained on you.

You recognized him in an instant, they were the former Elite C. A. R. D.s that was dissolved, Oscar: Ci-devant vice-president, The Duke of Diamonds. But why, out of all the people you could have run into.

“Leave her alone, brother. We have no ill qualms with her." The person on the other seat said, they look similar to Oscar but with shorter and fluffier hair. His eyes are obscured by a metal masque, with only a hint of gold piercing through the eye slit. His apparel mimics those of impeccable discipline and emotion numbing obligation, the Regent of Cups, Justin.

What are the two C. A. R. D.s doing here? Especially playing with Patisilinia, To mock you even more? Or was this a trap laid by—

The Trampled stud raised his hand, “Funny you should say that brother, but we have every right to pick a fight with her. “ Deft finger dragged on the wooden border of the table as he walked over to you. Aggressively swipe off the dust using his finger off the table before pinching it off his skin. Not breaking eye contact with you for even a moment.

“How about a game, Miss Secretary?” He replied with a shy sly smile aimed toward you, " a little tit for tat, if you know what I mean.” The same finger he used to drag on the table is now slowly caressing your cheek on the backside.

Now is not the time for theatrics, pushing the red head away from you and giving him a stern look.

“You are overstepping the boundaries, warlock." Crossing my arms over my chest, the hint of chime from my choker sounded.

“No need to be so abrasive, dear. You’re just in time for a little, reunion.” It was clear that he was not appreciative of you appearing but, that inane grin he has indicated his intentions.

The dealer then walked in with a brand new deck of cards, it was way more than the standard bicycle was used. No, this was way taller and foreboding.

“ Let’s play a game, just like old times, Sweet-ums.” Taunted the one who used to be your closest companion. Grabbing the deck of new cards that seem to be a perfect fit in his hand.

With a huff, brushing past him. “ I don’t have time for this, Oscar.” You then grabbed Patisilinia’s wrist to drag her, but was stopped when Oscar grabbed the girl’s other hand.

" Up-up-up! She stays, the contract states; she has to complete her obligations.” He wagged his free finger with such smugness.

“Bullshit" replied you, who knew you couldn’t do anything for her now. Just as helpless as you were to the whims of stringed strangers.

“ Read the terms and conditions, funny Bonny! " Oscar laughed. " Now, let go, former equerry. The boss has more than one query." A single tug on your fellow teen made you let go, you could see her staring back so longingly as he dragged her back to the gambling table.

‘Another one lured into the sweet promises of untold glimmer of joy, little servant.

They never change, neither did you.

“Release her, now, Duke." His steps were stopped once you made your move, humming in mild curiosity.

“Come back to your senses, did ya?"

Justin took a step forward, a small frown made present, " Savant, you do not have to humor my brother’s antics, it is all just a mere jest to him. Turn away and continue your hunt.” Yet despite that, perhaps that is why you decided to step up against them.

“Save it, Jush. Perhaps we could make a deal with the one who raised their sword.” The smile upon Oscar’s visage rises this familiar trepidation. Once fearful now the every fiber in you, yearns to gnaw at him using primal discomfort.

Just as you were about to pounce at the short red haired ‘Duke’. “ What is it that you desire, little Scintillating friend? '' Oscar suddenly asked, as if the world went dim, spotlights aimed, leading all eyes upon the sou of a soul!

Dry lips parted to speak,“ My freedom. ” You wanted to graduate from this hell hole, though you didn’t expect his next words.

“ You’ll have it then. “ He said nonchalantly, of course, you aren’t stupid. It reeks with foul intentions.

" What’s your plan, Oscar? " Your eyes then darted around from him to various spots around the room, even upon the dealer and on the poor student.

“ Can’t an old friend help another? “ Scoffing at his words, knowing he wouldn’t do it for no real reason, and friends are no exemption.

He then suddenly added, " Well, if you are that negative about me, how about this? ” Oscar then walked back toward the table and made a hand gesture. " Round one is on me, and round two: I’ll unshackle little itty bitty missy if you win. ” Pointing at the student who wears a bucket hat, she had not spoken since you entered the room.

The sickly looking girl in school attire, you always knew everyone in the school. And yet that student with the yellow arm band eludes your watchful eye.

Even though you have no obligation, and you were about to gamble with her earlier. Still you stood up for her, somehow. Perhaps, it was by fate that you wanted her to be bound to you, as you were to Pantalone? What maddening sadism came over to you?

Oscar gave the deck to the dealer with gentle ease." You do know how to play our favorite, right? " The red haired and vocal socialite asked, and you responded with a nod.

" Excellent! Let the stage, begin. ” Both players then drew a card from the darken dealer. Tired eyes beheld, three people holding their cups up in the air in celebration. I threw the card down on the table so they could see it as well.

From his side the Devil card of the major arcana was thrown, facing upside down. The chains that connected from its fist to the two sinful beings.

“ Lowest, go first. '' Oscar chuckled as the dealer collected the two cards quietly to begin the shuffle. Giving five cards to both of us.

The Lovers; A trump card! Queen of Swords, that could be of use as well later on a bid. Three of coins, ace of coins, and ten of coins. All three are useful to sacrifice until a good card comes up.

It was silent in the game room, the muffled sounds of the songstress could be heard ,

‘Give into temptation.’ As if!

The silent dealer spread a set of cards, revealing one of them.

“Call” You announced before pushing some chips and organized. Face turned unrelenting, tuning out most of the sounds and focused on the game and Oscar. But not before you have felt the eyes of a coyote staring down, watching your every move.

Fingers tapped against the table, as his own brother took his side beside Oscar just as always. “ How long will you last against me, or better yet, why didn’t you ask us for help? ” The ‘Duke’ asked.

The cards felt like they were moving too fast, the ticking of the clock sounded so loud even with all the chatter and debauched music playing. Skin touching the grooves of the linen card, as a set after the other were exchanged.

“ Was pride too much for you? ” he childishly tilted his head but then broke into a sly smile. “ Or was it— ” But you stopped him, if you weren't in a situation like this; a good wring of his neck would surely che—.

“ If you want to continue to gamble against me, I advise: you should keep that mouth of yours shut, Oscar. ” Silencing him, as you gave a side eye. Gripping the cards ever close to you.

“Pft, of course, of course,” He waved your words off.

It was a decent, fair, dead-honest trade. By the time you made your bid on the card the ‘first’ round had ended.

“Round two~” Oscar sighed, taking a sip of the sweating beverage next to him.

As the dealer gathered the cards once more, the short haired colleague spoke “ You were always the brave one. "

“ Perhaps that’s why so many leave mountains of love letters or do anything to be close to you.” He continues his words as he glances up at the card dealer who had their own austere expression, staring at the shuffling cards.

“Stop beating around the bush, you flaming-boy-band-cabaret.” You knew what he was going to do. All he speaks of is mere trickery.

“ You’re the center of everyone’s attention, why leave? “ You could see the green tint of his eyes scanning you up and down. Not a word was spoken as the line of fibery cards hit each other loudly.

Another five sets of cards unto the table in front of us.

‘You will win this…’

Empowering yourself with such flimsy words. As you recall your past victories, this gambling peer seems to be indulging your serious face.

Another somewhat alright hand that showed themselves, Justice, by the dealer. “ This feeling, I almost forgot these emotions… " Chuckled Oscar, twisted ecstasy displayed upon his face.

" Was it your heart, or is it just mine? “ What is he blubbering about? Is he trying to stall again?

Glancing back at your hand, reveals: Eight, nine, ten of swords, while the last two revealed to be seven of cups and king of swords…

No trump cards to play, seems like the king of swords is your only hope, if you played your cards right and bluff Oscar into folding, you could have a chance. ‘You could do this.’

‘Success so clearly in view, but is it merely a trick of the light?’

“Miss.”

Someone with a soft voice spoke. Looking beside you is Patisilinia, her hand is placed upon your shoulder. “ You do not have to do this, it’s alright. There is no need to prove anything to anyone. “ ‘The end waits, for the slightest lapse of concentration, afterall.’

Instead of being grateful for her words, the walls seem to whisper conspiracy in your ears. ‘ prove what? Is she one of them? She was suspiciously quiet earlier, she must be. ’ Keyed eyes glance up and down on her appearance, she is equally fretful and wrung out like a drenched shirt.

“ Do not talk like that as if you knew me for a long time, Patisilinia.” Such coldness of your response made the one eyed girl back off.

“Sorry, you just look really stressed and… “ Leaning closer to whisper; " That card guy, can you tell me about him? “

Looking at the plain looking man that wears a golden bow tie, eyes shadowed by their ruffled black hair. Even the smile is so lovingly, yet so evidently sinister.

Thoughts of what this could mean have entered. ‘Who is he?’, ‘do those two have a connection with him?’, ‘is this a ploy?’

This stirring agitation raises more alarms. Gripping onto the luxurious playing card granted more signs of edged awareness.

" Why don’t we switch it up a little? “ With a sly lazy grin, he tossed a cheque on the gambling table, a cashout that weighs more than your debt.

" All, or nothing. “ He added.

You had no money to pay back should you lose. “Bastard, spill it, this is your attempt to save face, isn’t it?! “ Pointing an accusation at him, to which he calmly and teasingly replied; “I have no idea what you’re talking about darling."

‘Self-Preservation is paramount at all costs!’

Refusing to show even a hint of woe, you have failed to realize that there are more than the people in the room who are staring at you.

“ I won’t let the battle end your way, coward! “ You have no idea what is up his sleeves, though for sure it isn’t pleasant.

Hasty gaze placed upon the cards you’ve held. There is no point in integrity if the opponent has no respect!

‘in this decrepit tomb of refined fashion.’

With grit teeth, and rekindled blade. Despite of Ego Rex had said, securing the win is more important than being sorry and ended up with even more trouble.

‘Come on, let's just enjoy the spice// (Of) Life and feel so free//’

Vision slightly blurry for a moment as you heard the songstress’ words. Fueling you to push onward to a better possibility. Though, it is most probably why they prefer this kind of masquerade.

“ This Someone has not rusted yet. " The Dealer mused, as he began to shuffle the cards with ease.

With using every trick you have accumulated over your days as a normal student. It was going relatively well, until you noticed your points are slowly building up compared to Oscar.

“Hoho, surely this will be our very best bet.” Chuckled Oscar, though him speaking like that makes you feel on edge.

—

In a fit of illusioned madness, everything seems to blend and melt once Oscar prompts his arm on the table, revealing his conniving smile.

You should have known that being so wily and clever, deceiving and swindling never ever makes a person so clever. Was this, who you truly are? The scummiest of all gamblers.

“Save your dignity, little Bonny." Hearing the chair being scraped against the floor caused you to stand up and look at the hulking figure of the Captain that followed the wealthy student Regrator.

You tried to follow suit in an attempt at pulling the ‘bodyguard’ of Pantalone. “Capitano— wait!” you cried out, disregarding tugging on to his arm and silky clothes, " Don’t tell Pantalone! Please!" Tears escaping your eyes as it all happened so fast that you couldn’t process what just happened.

“My apologies, but he is already here." Eyes widen as you see Pantalone, opening his briefcase from the entrance of the room. In one swing, an unfathomable amount of paper bills began to shower everyone in raining crisp geld.

" I’m disappointed, Senpai. I told you if you were in a bind, I wouldn’t mind that I have to help you out. “ No, that’s not the look of a stymied person.

" Let us fully relax, and relish all of these! " His voice seems so primal yet refined, as if his inner demons were being satiated by the act he had committed. Followed up with a wave of his other hand to catch a wad of bills to fan himself.

“Capitano, please help me!" Backing away from the affluent stud and begging at the bodyguard to help.

He stayed silent, making the alarm in your mind blaring. Facing the three you were just with.

“Oscar! Justin! Pastilinia, Please! “ The more you tried to scream out the three would answer you the same. Attempts to move closer failed.

" What isn’t real, could never fade. I truly enjoyed your performances, Regrator, Captain, and of course you as well dear little Servant." The dealer smiled and waved so cheekily.

" Pastilinia! “ Screeching out, anxiety from the realistic danger turned aggressive. Dilated eyes focused on the one eyed girl before you heard a soft click.

" Huh… ? " Moving your gead slightly to see the ever twinkling face of the Regrator just over your shoulder. Not realizing he had let go of the fan money and briefcase to attach a leather leash that’s wrapped around his other fist.

“Dearest Senpai. You haven’t forgotten our promise do you?" Breaking away from his space.

" I can still win! I just need a little bit more time. “ he tugged on the leather to pull you back, making you gag and move closer to him. “Right, Pastilinia!?"

When you realized that your bargains no longer reach his ears, “ How could you?! “ Your aggressive tendencies became apparent as hands reaching out for the sickly girl and the rest that basically sold you out to lash out on.

“ I’m sorry but the Jester promises us happiness as well.” Pastilinia replied softly.

Justine scoffed, " a fistful of happiness more like."

“ SCREW YOU! " You roared as you tried to go over to the three but somehow Pantalone managed to get a good grip on the string to drag you away

“Now, now, we don’t threaten a stranger with a good time, Senpai." No matter how many times you hear him say that, it is always so unnerving.

On your knees and clawing at the carpeted floor, you would have held tightly onto if it weren’t for the money he spilled earlier to make it even more difficult. “ Please, have mercy Sire, Pantalone, Regrator.” Never in your life would you think of being seen this pathetic, infront of your old friends at least.

As a last ditch to hold on to, " MASTER!!!" You screamed that held so much vile emotions into the night. In hopes of making out of this treacherous cage alive.

He once dreamed in the dark for the most part, and now, it is your turn little pet.

Bonus cutscene:

Pantalone truly did wanted to be the one to save the day, yet you did not have a say in what he trade away. He waited for this moment ever since his first day in this academy.

“That’s not how you do that." He chuckled as he moved over to you so he could aid you in putting the clothes on, well more like a jewelry thats running across your body like a sash it doesn’t even conceal anything. It felt cold to the touch, making you shiver.

Pantalone steps back to admire the model that wore nothing but gold jewelry on the bed.

Of course, you felt shame that you tried to cover your chest and hid your lower parts using the blanket. No matter what you did, all it does is add more tease for him to unwrap.

After a glance at the name wheel, he smiled before picking up wrapped candy and putting it in his mouth.

This bewilders you until he pressed his lips against yours, passing the hard peice of candy to you. It tasted chokingly sweet yet sour at the same time.

Tongues twirled and swirled around the hard candy, making loud wet squelches.

He moaned as he lean closer to enjoy it further until you were almost going to fall backwards on the bed if you haven’t clung to his clothes.

With one last push, he successfully laid you on the bed, making the gold on your body made satisfying clinks.

“Be a good girl, for master~" he tugged on the leash, rolling up into his fist.

Confused on what he wanted you to do, you only gave a whine. Though afraid if you pissed him off again.

" Down here, Sweet.”

He purred as he pull down his trousers revealing his shaft.

" It’s alright, take it slow.. be careful.” He guided you closer that his free hand is gripping your hair.

“Be… mindful.” He thrusted into your mouth, letting out soft grunts and moans.

The jingle of the gold pieces on your body sound whenever you and him made skin-on-skin contact.

“Af… after this… you.. you got .. puzzle… solve.. “ Bated breath, Pantalone reminded you of the tast he given you. Though it was an excuse to get behind you and do unspeakable things.

Hints of tears began to appear on your eyes as you felt his tip poking down your throat. You wanted to speak, but all you could do is suck on this one-eyed snake.

The night is only half eaten afterall.

[miracles-and-butterflies]

[Taking their Christmas card photo - the Nativity]

Dolores, as Mary: Come on, guys, just stand and smile! It's for the Christmas card!

Isabela, as a wiseman: I’m trying! But Luisa won’t give me my fucking prop!

Luisa, as a wiseman: The gold is my prop! Yours is the frankincense!

Isabela: I’m the eldest, I should get to pick! And I want to be the wealthy one, so hand it over, bitch!

Dolores: For the love of… Can't we have one nice picture?

Camilo, as a shepherd: Well, you’re making us wear these tacky costumes, I don’t know how nice my charming features can make it. Just let us wear our own clothes.

Dolores: No, we’re recreating the Nativity—

Camilo: Ohhhh. Dibs on being baby Jesus!

Antonio, as a shepherd: What!? If Camilo gets to be Jesus, can I be the donkey?

Dolores: No! You play the part you’ve been given— Camilo, get the fuck out of the manger!

Mariano, whispering, as Joseph: I don’t know what’s going on anymore.

Mirabel, whispering back, as an angel: I thought my costumes were pretty adequate this year…

[mr111202]

Penn Zero Pride Month: The Much Needed Update

Okay, so last year for pride month, I made a post about Penn Zero characters and how they fit into the LGBTQ+ community. However, since then, I’ve become more diverse in the community. So, I decided to give this post the update it deserves. So, without further ado, let’s get started.

Penn Zero

- Bisexual: He just gives off that vibe for me. I can see him with both girls and boys.

- Transgender (FtM): I know some people in the fandom see it the other way around, but personally, I do headcannon that he was born a girl, but at some point realized that he’s a boy and transition around the 6th grade. (Pronouns are he/him/they)

Sashi Kobayashi

- Lesbian: Sorry to all the PennAshi shippers, but I just don’t see it anymore. This came from how I liked the interactions between Sashi and Amber in the latter’s titled episode.

- Transgender (MtF): So, about a few months ago, I found this post here on Tumbler on how they said that Sashi was born a boy, but transitioned when she was like 4 or somewhere around that age. Personally, I agreed with that post, and if I can find that post, I’ll add the author later on. (Pronouns are she/her/they)

Boone Wiseman

- Pansexual: I feel like Boone’s the kind of person that would be more attracted to personality rather than looks. For crying out loud, the dude fell for a princess made out of paper!!

- Gender-fluid: They sometimes find themselves liking and wearing dresses and skirts and what people consider girls clothing, and is a girl. Other times, they are a boy. Other times, they are both genders, and other times, they are neither. It can be a bit confusing at first, but they got there eventually. (Pronouns are they/ them)

Rippen

- Bisexual: I feel like that, yes, he is attracted to Lady Starblaster. But I think he eventually also gained an attraction to Larry as well. I also like to think that, since he probably grew up in the 80s, he repressed his sexuality till around the time of the show.

- Cis-gender Male: He feels like a guy, always felt comfortable about being a guy, and so, he’s still a male.

Larry

- Gay: I mean… look at the man. He totally gives off gay vibes!! I like to think that he and Madame President will break things off eventually and realizes his feelings towards Rippen. I mean, just remember that hug they shared in the “Number 1, Number 2” episode. (Also, image: Rippen and Larry get together. And eventually, The Lady and the President hook up as well. That’d be crazy!!)

- Cis-gender Male: Like with Rippen, he also feels comfy with being a guy. But, he is a big ally for trans, non-binary, bigender people out there.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this, and happy Pride Month to all the boys, girls, and non-binary pals!!

[kursed-arcana]

Love the character notes. Organdy is essentially organza, but made of cotton. Sadly haven't been able to find any cute organdy pieces of clothing ( seems less common as we annoyingly move more and more to synthetic fabrics.)

The notes about chibiusa vs black ladies eyes are especially interesting. Really sells how completely devoid of hope Black Lady is. Its most telling to see Wiseman's work at twisting Chibiusa's sadness and loneliness reflected in her eyes

[ink-flavored]

General 5 and 9; Romantic 2, 8, 11; Gender Identity 4 and 7(or 8); Intersexuality 15 for whichever OC(s) have interesting answers :)

oh boy, thank you! i'll just hit the OC Roulette, get ready for none of these to be the same person

General

5. What did they do to explore their queerness? Have they tried to explore it at all?

Jao (from TGDW) has really not thought about it. She's been busy being a healer for her village, and then literally the queen's father, and then staying on as the queen's right hand. She's been grinding too hard to worry about gay stuff.

However, spending so much time around Xinya and attending all her formal events and helping her dress has. Y'know. Opened her mind to the possibility.

9. Did it take them a long time to figure out which labels they prefer? Are they still searching for the right fit?

Priscilla (from Henry & Priscilla) is very ignorant of labels, because it's the 1930s, so the few labels she's aware of are insults, plus she runs the mob and has to make sure she's a leader respectable (read=powerful) enough to follow. She hasn't spent enough time around other queer people to know what they would call her whole gender situation. For now, she just "feels like a man sometimes" and that's that. She'd like to find a label, but you don't know what you don't know. Part of her is convinced she's the only one like this.

Romantic Orientation

2. Do they enjoy dating or prefer being single?

Asim (from my Unnamed Dream WIP) has never had the luxury of dating. Before he became the Speaker for his village, his parents were thinking about arranging a marriage for them, but they died before it could pan out and Asim ascended to his role as a wiseman/healer/problem solver for everyone in his general radius, and thus taking on any of them as a spouse would look like special treatment.

When they think about it, they might like the idea of being in a relationship or starting a family with someone, but it's not something he needs to be happy.

8. Are they polyamorous? Do they consider it an orientation or a preference?

Justice (of Pride & Justice) would definitely 100% be polyamorous, he loves love, he would be thrilled at the opportunity to have multiple romantic partners, or even to just have different types of relationships that span the gap between platonic and romantic... if Pride didn't have so many fucking problems that would immediately implode any polycule he ever tried to form or join.

For Justice, it's something he can choose. Being poly would be nice, but the way his life currently stands, he's more than happy being monogamous too.

11. How has their romantic orientation shaped their interactions with peers and family?

Yvonne (from my Horny Urban Fantasy Anthology) was so so so shy in her herd, and continued to be so so so shy once she left it. If anything, being biromantic/bisexual just made her more nervous around literally everyone she ever interacted with that she found even a little bit cute. Centaur herds are a mix of family and peer, as not all of them are all related to each other but they all live together as if they were, so she was very close to everyone she knew. This eased her shyness a little bit around people she considered closer to "family" than "romantic prospect." But as soon as she got out into the Big City, and all she had was peers, she's playing Extreme Wallflower at every social gathering.

Gender Identity

4. How do they prefer to present?

Hayden (from Dragon Raising) has long since given up trying to present to what society expects a Black man to present like. He's often on crutches, and when he's not, his MS means he wants to be wearing comfortable clothes that are easy to move in at all times. Adaptive clothes are pretty expensive, so he takes what he can get when it comes to fashion.

On a meta-level, I'd call him.... soft masc? He's not concerned with being macho, but he's not really feminine either.

7. If they’re trans, do they plan on socially transitioning? In which ways? If not, why not?

Pride (of Pride & Justice) has basically socially transitioned in all the ways he wants, and doesn't really bother trying to "pass". He uses the pronouns he likes, he uses the name he likes, he wears—well he wears whatever the fuck he wants, but in a distinctly transgender way.

Intersexuality

15. How does their intersexuality interact with their other identities?

At time of writing, my only intersex OC is a side character from Pride & Justice. One of the members of the book club Justice attends, Chris (it/its), is intersex. I don't have a whole lot about it on my blog rn, I mention it in Justice's powerpoint that I made, and I do plan on making a whole slideshow just for the book club because there's a lot of characters to cover, but for now I will drop the picrew i made for it

Ta-da! With the intersex pin, and in case you can't see that little blue one, it's the Achillean flag.

I am still in the early days of my research about intersex variations and stuff, but I do know that Chris has Late Onset Congenital Adrenal Hyperplasia (LOCAH). Signs of puberty appeared in childhood, way earlier than every other kid it knew, and a lot of people in its life were not kind. After basically an entire childhood of being called "it" and a "thing", Chris has embraced it instead of giving in to dehumanization. It takes a lot of joy in being immune to categorization, and "my gender is Thing" is their way of reflecting those attempted insults back at the world.

Additionally, it was very hard to connect with other straight peers in its youth, much less get romantic with them, and trying to conform to cis beauty norms made everything worse. It gave up after high school, at first out of futility, but over time learned to embrace its masculine qualities and started curating them on purpose. It had always known it was attracted to men, but in embracing its own masculinity, it found it was able to appreciate the masculine no matter what gender it was attached to. Achillean really was the perfect word for it, and to this day it appreciates the masculine from butches to bears.

Also it has frogs. It has three White's Tree Frogs named Kermit, Miss Piggy, and Gonzo. This has nothing to do with sexuality but it is very important that you know this.

[try out my 74 Question Pride Month ask game]

[moderarato]

🤎 moderarato’s interactive fiction OC list 🤎

(full character breakdown under the cut!)

Celeste “Este” Davies | she/her | bi

oil paintings / iced coffee / rocky beaches / pastels / arching an eyebrow / fields of long grass / pink peppercorn / home-cooked meals / balling hands into fists / heart-shaped sunglasses 

Lux Laveau | she/her | pan

lace / perfume / popping bubble-gum / fashion / cottage-core / fairy tales / magic / spritzers / heels / cakes / holidays / dinner parties / twirling hair / winking / lip gloss / fresh bouquets 

Paloma Sloane | she/her | bi

worn-in denim / noirs / night drives / coding / pine trees / alchemy / newspapers / cheap whiskey / organized mess / glasses on chains / reading under moonlight / pens in hair

Selma {No Set Surname} | she/they | bi

black and tuxedo cats / absurdism / stick & poke tattoos / junk food / heavy rain / silent nods / platform boots / thrillers / ivy / polaroids / taking the train to the end of the line / 90s goth 

Iah Moritz | they/he | pan

disco balls / nail polish / playful eye-rolls / dancing / vintage couture / sour candy / skateboards / cigarettes / early 2000s tech / leaning on surfaces / classic comics / talking with hands 

Dorothea “Dot” Eames | she/her | bi/demi

neutrals / folding hands / heirlooms / cashmere / handwritten letters / marble / minimalism / museums / matte lipstick / foxes / earl grey tea / autumn / strong eye-contact / trench coats

Arturo “Art” Belmonte | he/him | gay

historical fiction / layered clothing / piercings / hands in pockets / thrifting / old cities / mythology / over-ear headphones / sitting by windows / awkward laughs / scones & coffee  

Cewê Cizîrî | she/they | pan

night skies / scrapbooking / dandelions / pleased smiles / saffron / pushing hair back / gentle breezes / long dresses / tea sets / gardens / birdsong / people-watching / quiet confidence 

Delphine Moon | she/her | lesbian

vanilla / swans / pearls / late-night studying / chess / heavy snow / horseback riding / silently judging / white wine / perfect posture / perfume bottles / armoires with mirrors

Reina “Rei” {No Set Surname}  | she/they | bi

art galleries / baggy blazers and clothes / 80s anime / tote bags / sarcasm / aimless walks / matcha lattes / eyeliner / film scores / dining out alone / charcoal sketches

Sorn Ly  | any pronouns | pan

road trips / faded scars / banana leaves / biting nails / pottery / surfing / olives / sunsets / rolling shoulders back / hair ties on wrists / scoffing / long afternoons / humidity / walking barefoot

Frances Wiseman | she/him | demi/lesbian

cowboy boots / fruits / picking flowers / running / french new wave / messy hair / sun-kissed skin / oversized jackets / late summer / bass playing / crossing arms

[coldrubies]

Notes on TÁR!

I was very excited to see Tár because I love:

Classical music

Orchestral conducting

Seeing people at pianos

Seeing people make notations on staff paper

The promise of seeing these things is more than enough to lure me into a movie theatre.

Not relevant to my excitement was:

Moral panic

I did not go in with a feeling that the movie would have interesting things to say about holding people accountable for abuses of power. This is not because I have anything against Todd Field, whose directorial/writing work I'm not familiar enough with to pass that kind of judgment. I just feel that it is a tough needle to thread, and I would have been pleasantly surprised to see it done right, and I always reserve the hope of being pleasantly surprised. I was not—not by that—but there were still things I appreciated.

BLACKWING CAMEO

That was a nice flourish of affection for the romance of composing in analog mode: the sight of a box of Blackwing pencils in LT's pencil vault. I did not get the chance to see if she had any Alpheus Music Writer pencils (LB's brand).

I would love to watch anything—documentary, affectionate feature film—about the heartache involved in being devoted to dead stock pencils.

A FAIR AMOUNT OF ORCHESTRA

The strongest feeling with which I emerged from my experience of watching Tár was that someone out there needs to win my heart by declaring themself the next Frederick Wiseman and make me a four (plus!) hour documentary that just follows the administration of a major symphony orchestra. The meetings! The committees! The sections! The drudgery! The paperwork! The tuning up! The rehearsals! The commuting! The work-life balance! The negotiations! The board! The fundraising! The music programming! Everything! This is what I want. For my money, there could have been way more orchestra.

MEETINGS IN RESTAURANTS WITH DARK PANELED WOOD WALLS AND WHITE CUPS AND WHITE TABLE CLOTHS

I did not need quarantine to teach me that there are few luxuries more poignant, significant, and comforting to me than a fancy place to get coffee, but the mere sight of people in a restaurant I'd like to be in is enough to move me to tears. The German locale specifically beat hard on the strings of my heart dedicated to Café Sabarsky.

THE RUSSIAN CELLIST

It's not my movie. Somebody else made it, it's done. But if my take had been solicited, I would have concentrated a lot more time and tension into the part of the plot that engages with the young Russian cellist who is so familiar with the games inherent in her field that she takes them on readily and with naked disdain.

VINYL GRIPES

New classical recordings should all be issued on vinyl and they never are.

PANGENDER JUILLIARD STUDENT

I cannot think of another movie I've seen in a theatre where a character has to, under duress, articulate their identity as something not-cis, and I was touched by how much the performer in the role shows that it sucks. The reactionary fantasy seems to involve a college student screaming the qualities of their identity that an unknowing authority figure ought to know, while the reality is that it is the worst thing to have to introduce and always feels like it is crawling out of you in a way that is mortifyingly unimpressive because plenty of people do not need to articulate their identities, but we do. At the same time, I did not love the scene and question its relevance. I guess that it did demonstrate LT's penchant for dying on a hill, but I am not convinced that the use of the straw man did not utterly mute the point that this character cannot meet anybody on their own terms but will mandate the terms until everybody turns over or flickers out.

(Was the scene filmed at Juilliard? It captured the building's steepness.)

INTERTIORS

I love the apartment LT shares with her family and the studio. There did not need to be any more action in this movie than somebody noodling at various grand pianos trying to manifest what they hear in their head. Of course, Cate Blanchett was great at it.

LENNY B!!!

This man had no boundaries, and his ghost winks at a way messier, more playful, more irony-soaked movie for how he endures as a platonic ideal of success. Also, the Young People's Concerts are definitive, lovingly documented proof of how engrossing it is just to watch an orchestra do what it does. I hope people who see Tár invest in the DVD sets.

[postguiltypleasures]

My Peak TV journey *The Marvelous Mrs Maisel*

Prior to the final I made some predictions about where the show would end up. one was that Esther would grow up to resent her mother like Lorelei resented Emily Gilmore. I was right about that. I also speculated that maybe this was the story of how Midge could make anybody laugh, but could not make it as a comic. I was wrong about Midge’s career.

I liked the flash forwards but some of the choices of people she would be involved with seemed more funny peculiar than funny haha. It implies she was involved with Mike Nichols after that first season episode where she did not know about his act with Elaine May and almost ended up in a Nichols and May knock off act. The flash forwards made a big deal about her working with Bob Hope which tracks with aspirational dialogue from earlier in the series. While Hope had a long and successful career, meaning I understand why he was chosen as the symbol of what success i the field looked like, he also fell incredibly out of fashion starting in the late sixties. As a choice, it says Midge never quite seemed “young” in her career. Which, I guess makes sense.

That said I really liked the final season. In earlier posts about the show I acknowledge criticism that the Weisman’s players by goy actors were so much more likable than the Maisels, played by actually Jewish actors. This season seemed to recognize it and subtly corrects.

The elder Maisels were suddenly hilarious, if still crass and unkind. The Wiseman’s reliance on their housekeeper Zelda, who got married and retired over the season revealed some very unappealing aspects of their characters.

The show sometimes felt like it took place in 1960 for multiple years. As a series The Marvelous Mrs Maisel didn’t exact love the time period in which it took place, so much as it loves the pop culture from its time. It never made me want to be there, just to keep watching people in their colorful, well tailored clothes. But it was not particularly critical, nor interested in a “this is what led to things being the way they are now” type of rational for its existence. As a choice it’s doesn’t clarify, but doesn’t let you wallow for the good old days either. Sometimes it felt like every year on screen was 1960. This disinterested ambivalence occasionally led to wanting to me I’d want to fact check it, but rarely actually doing it. The one time I did was regarding Clark Gable’s death, which I thought stool place a year after the season took place. I was wrong. 

In the final episode there was an establishing shot of the Ansonia indicating that is where Midge live in 2005. Later she makes a comment about Yoko Ono being one of her neighbors. Ono famously lives in the Dakota, several avenues from the Ansonia. I was going list this as another thing that makes me doubt the interest in veracity o the series. Then I found this discussed in this post finale interview with Amy Sherman-Palladino. It’s a fictional building in a fictional timeline. Don’t make a big deal about it. Some how this made define with it.

I want to end this by praising the actors who joined the series late players. 

Some how I forgot that Julie Klausner joined the series late in the fourth season, but she regularly had me giggling over her appearances in the final season.  (Interestingly, Klausner is not a Lenny Bruce fan.)

Alfie Fuller is new to me and she was so great as Dinah. I hope Dinah has as great a management career and I look forward to seeing Fuller in something soon.

Reid Scott is such a charming bully as Gordon Ford, you almost don’t resent his character’s success. (Though I think the no writer on the show rule was a good one) 

I’ve liked Chris Eigeman since those Whit Stillman films and I really liked seeing him run the Village Voice here.

Jason Ralph, (Rachel Brosnahan’s real life husband) had some very funny bits as Mike, especially in relation to Suzie. Seeing him here mostly made me think how I want to see him as a lead again. 

Nina Arianda has intrigued me since I saw her play Stan Laurel’s wife in Stan and Ollie. She still does as Gordon’s wife/Susie’s ex, Hedy. 

[pensivelyplayfulme]

Prehistoric job post was good, but lacking.

[fancifulflora]

What hugging them feels like (All OCS):

Carcel Devereaux: Their hugs feel stiff and awkward since they aren't the most touchy detective around. They will also straight up refuse to hug you if you aren't at least on a semi-familiar level with them. The brooding detective thing isn't just a front they put on you know! As the two of you get closer, the hugs become more relaxed, almost lazy as they practically drape themselves against you and give you a faint squeeze.. Will give a nice, firmer squeeze if they are feeling especially affectionate, but will also be less willing to let go so soon.

Ines Santiago: She's a rather friendly people person considering her high skill in psychology, but she's more the type to be hugged and then eagerly hug back with her short arms than to wrap someone up in a hug of her own. When she does initiate a hug though, she's glowing and warm, squeezing once before letting go and lingering in the space with the lucky recipient of her hugs. Hugs actually aren't her ideal method of showing physical affection, so there's nothing too special about them. The only time she'd ever truly go beyond a squeeze is when she's sad, then she'll cling and never let go lol.

Kulîlk Teyran: Like many things with the Crown, her hugs depend on who you are. If you're a person she wishes to win over, it's filled with warmth and energy as she does her best to hug you like you've been friends for years. But if you do get past her facade, her hugs are more genuine and powerful. She hugs the ones she loves like it'll be the last time she'll ever get to see them, tight with her fists bunching up handfuls of cloth before she slowly releases with slight reluctance. This applies to all she's close with, regardless of whether she's romantically involved with them or not.

Jayce Wiseman: It depends on whether or not you can read his mind. If you can read his mind, he'll do his best to block out his thoughts before coming in quick and squeezing you tight. If you're light enough and small enough he'll lift you before pulling away and putting the right amount of distance between the two of you. The biggest exception to this is if you romance him (and/or are named Greyson Black), then he'll hug you like he'd hug any normal person, wrapping you in his arms and resting his shoulder against your neck with one squeeze. He's the type to sway you back and forth a little as well before finally releasing.

Niamh Venegard: So, utterly terrified. She's a lot stronger than her gangly limbs will tell you and the last thing she wants is to hurt someone by not focusing on her control. Her hugs no matter who you are are gentle and tender, awkward at first but slowly melting until she practically molds herself against the form of the person she's hugging. Then she remembers herself and the touch-starved part of her retreats with the rest of her, Niamh distancing herself immediately and in a hurry, even if you are romancing her.

Talon Vespero: Most certainly not the hugging type. He's more used to people hugging him, though it's because he's carrying them or saving them from certain doom. Considering his Mother and the role his sister was raised for, hugs weren't all too common in his childhood. When he does hug though, it's tight and constricting, but also warm and safe. You might not be able to escape from his death grip on you, but at least in that moment with him, you feel like nothing in the world could hurt a hair on your head without him tearing them asunder. This actually applies whether or not you're romancing him.

[thousandbuns]

Something made me remember a raw, out of context, spur-of-a-moment draft from last year (specifically from August 2021 according to my phone's notes app), so...

Here's a short excerpt in which a Tzeentchian Sorcerer looks into a magic mirror. Minor CW for severe injury and body horror. Enjoy.

_____

His reflection in the mirror flickered and changed. At first he saw what seemed like his old legionary self, clad in a distinctly shaped ornate plate of crimson and bronze, holding a flat-faced helmet in the crook of the arm.

Then, he blinked - and the armour crumpled into battered scrap, the helmet's dome snapped open like a blooming flower. His bloodied face stared at him with a single eye, miraculously spared from a blow that carved away more than half of his skull.

Then the vision shifted again. The missing flesh began to rapidly grow back - outgrow, overgrow, crack the battle-damaged armour wide open from within, then bury it in the pulsating mass of tisssue, twisted and contorted into shapes that were at once utterly inhuman and far too human...

Another change in view, and the mutated flesh crumbled into dust, leaving behind an unmoving, lifeless husk - a tightly sealed suit of turquoise armour, staring him down with two sparks of pale light shimmering behind the lenses of an otherwise-empty helmet.

Blink of an eye, and the reflection flicked between several other lost possibilities - a high-ranking Sorcerer clad in dark plate dripping with gold and arcane trinkets, an Astartes in plain-grey armor adorned with strings of parchment and Imperial insignia, a warrior-turned-wiseman wearing the draped white robes of a magister...

Finally the mirror filled with haze, as if his mind could no longer find any visions of discarded future. He was about to sever the mental link and walk away, when the fog suddenly lifted. He glanced at the newly revealed reflection and nearly took a step back.

Where once towered an Astartes, now stood a meagre child - aged ten, maybe eleven standard years, judging by the height and build. The boy's face was at first strangely blurred, and it took him considerable effort to distinguish a hint of individual features. The crook of the nose, fullness of lips and sharpness of cheekbones seemingly manifested even within that youthful, rounded visage... yet they were more of a suggestion than a concrete image, he realized. Deduced from the adult memory and not truly remembered.

And then the child began to grow - but not into the towering, muscular frame that he was accustomed to. Instead, it spurred out into a lanky juvenile, then a slim young man clad in the robes of a mortal adept of Pavoni cult. His face - his old face - finally came into proper focus, with only a hint of blur where the proportions between a mortal and an Astartes wouldn't quite match.

For a good moment, the man in the mirror didn't change too drastically - a slight shift in features incurred through biomancy, a few shallow wrinkles allowed to creep into the corners of the mouth and eyes, the clothing picking up new layers and details to reflect the upwards shift in cult hierarchy. Past a certain point, however, the natural aging process began to outpace the psychic effort - the thick black hair began to shimmer with silver, the cheeks slowly sagged into slight jowls, the eyes sank into the orbits under dense, bushy brows, and wrinkles cut deeper into the skin like cracks in weathered rock. The mature scholar slowly withered away, becoming an old man hunched under the burden of age. Yet even as his body reached its final moments, his eyes shone brightly as ever, and the thinned lips still formed a peaceful, content smile.

The image shimmered and for a moment he could see the child, the adult and the elder all at once. Then the vision swirled wildly, and before he knew, he was once again looking at his true reflection, crippled and malformed.

With a sleight of hand, the thick cloth cover slipped over the mirror, and the sorcerer silently walked away.