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peterstamatin · 10 months ago

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Corona Australis, Tension, and the Sisters

(by caspiancomic)

After spending 35 cycles and several real-world hours in the Void, harvesting Colour, feeding Sisters, and murdering Brothers, the Spirt fills himself to bursting with Colour, achieving a state of Turgor, and performs the Rite of Devotio by drawing the Glyph of Breakthrough on a Sister with four open hearts, ascending her to the Upper Limit. The Sister, nude, floats up and out of the Void. The Sleeper, responding to this transcendence, vomits up the last of its Colour in either an involuntary muscular spasm or a deliberate childish tantrum, and dies. What follows is a ghostly trek through the Upper Limit, modified to reflect the Colours of the chosen Sister, in the earliest stages of adapting to her presence and becoming the world she was destined to create. Over this tantalizing preview of the new world in its infancy, a narrator reads us a single verse of poetry. Then: credits. This is the ending of The Void. True to the game that preceded it, it is almost impenetrably opaque, will make precious little sense to a first time player, is open to a great deal of interpretation, and will have different significance to every player.

The verses that are read are by Maximilian Voloshin, a 20th Century Russian poet who even receives a “poetry” credit. They are from his Corona Australis cycle, verses 2 through 12 of 14. Exactly what they mean in the context of the game is delightfully unclear, although the consensus would suggest that each verse is meant to be interpreted as an abstract representation of the world created by the ascended Sister. Let me put my cards on the table right away: I disagree with the consensus. Although I think elements of the verses can be interpreted as being of particular relevance to the ascended Sister, and may in some cases serve as an abstracted description of their own worlds, I believe that the true significance of the verses is much broader than that.

It is my belief that Voloshin’s Corona Australis cycle represents the earliest germination of the ideas that would eventually become Tension. I think that a critical analysis of the poem will reveal that someone from Ice-Pick Lodge almost certainly was inspired to create the game based on the contents of the poem, and returned to the poem many times for guidance during the creation of the game. The plot, the characters, the tone, even the mechanics of the game can be found in a foetal state in Voloshin’s poem. People have tended to interpret the verses individually, and as reflective of the end of the game. It’s my belief that the poem is best interpreted as a whole, and as reflective of the beginning of the game- not the start of the narrative, but the very inception of Tension. To that end, in this article, I will be taking the poem’s utilized verses and be attempting to suss out how they manifest themselves in the finished version of the story and game.

But, let’s be honest, that would only be a partially complete article. Although it’s my belief that Corona Australis is best understood as the inspiration for The Void, it would be academically negligent to ignore the fact that the verses were selected to be read over the finale of the game, and that individual verses were assigned to specific Sisters. And besides, certain verses of the poem align themselves beautifully with their associated Sisters, so perfectly that they cry out for critical analysis. As if that wasn’t enough, many verses of the poem contain very little content that made it into the finished version of the game. So, for the purposes of this article, I will be analyzing the verses of the poem one at a time, attempting to determine either their affect on the finished game, their relevance to their associated Sister, or if I can manage it, both. I originally planned on performing both spheres of analysis on every verse, but my intellect was simply not up to the task. If you have a piercing insight on how any given verse relates to either the game as a whole or a Sister specifically- in other words, if you can pick up where I left off- I’d love to hear your ideas in the comments.

Before we begin properly, a point of clarification. Since my central thesis is that these verses served as broad sources of inspiration for The Void, any analysis of them is going to be a bit all over the map. Many of the verses will seem to be about one particular recognizable element from the finished game, before shifting gears entirely and describing something unrelated, sometimes in the middle of a sentence or even the middle of a line. Some verses will contain lines that seem to have nothing to do with the finished game, others will have lines that seem to encompass every facet of the game. It’s important to keep in mind as we progress that these poems are not about the game, of course, but merely inspired it. For this reason, while some poems will seems to have an almost prescient knowledge of The Void, others will seem thematically muddy or unclear, and others still will seem totally unlinked. Inspiration is a strange thing, and if Ice-Pick Lodge’s team was inspired more by one element of the poem than another, or if one line inspired many elements of the game while another inspired none, then that’s what happened and it couldn’t have happened any other way. I will do my best to keep the analogies between the poem and the game as clear as possible, but in some instances the connection between the two will be vague or incomplete. Please don’t interpret this as my excuse for being incompetent as an interpreter of poetry.

Right then, let’s get down to it.

We never heard again once we departed. The sinner’s prayer is sound and discord. An earthly god’s communion is reward from priests in temples never started. The dreams of madness change our saviour. We are as bees abandoned by the hive. Like the men of fallen Troy we now strive and flames predict the time of our failure. By breathing gusts we are lead in dissolution, long paths unfolding, roads we’ve never walked we stroll in blindness as a herdless flock, rolling thunder, earth and lightning fusion exploding fires of doubt and disdain- our dream’s meaning, the world will never gain.

This verse has two major driving themes that are relevant to The Void: religion, and abandonment. The two not only operate autonomously, but also fuse into each other to form a discrete third theme of religious abandonment. The religious imagery is reminiscent of the dogmatic Brothers, whose fanaticism is the core of their organization. Almost all of the Brothers’ interactions with the Spirit are coloured by their religious beliefs, and most of the time the Brothers only deign to speak to the Guest when he has broken one of their arbitrary taboos. Abandonment is probably expressed most clearly in the absence of Colour at the beginning of the game. Since we know Colour is sentient, its absence from the Void could be said to be tantamount to a purposeful abandonment- although, in fairness, it is unclear whether Colour chooses not to appear or has become incapable of appearing. Since Colour in its Lympha form is worshipped by the Brothers, Colour’s disappearance from the Void also ties into the specific religious abandonment themes in the verse.

Let’s begin making sense of some specific lines of the poem. Who is “the sinner?” According to the verse, it would have to be a character who prays. The only characters who pray are the Brothers (to Colour) so it is interesting that here they are categorized as “sinners”- by all accounts they hold everyone in the Void but themselves to be the “sinners.” The next two lines, I believe, refer to the Spirit’s relationship to the Sisters. Here the Spirit is both the “earthly god” (possibly supporting the theory that the Guest came to the Void from above) and the “priest,” and his “communion” would be Colour. In Catholicism at least, communion is believed to be the body and blood of Christ, which draws a direct parallel between Jesus and the Taboo Breaker- the Sisters and brothers both refer to Colour as being his “blood”, and it is stored in his hearts. The “temples never started” would then be the Sister’s chambers- just as the Sisters exist but are not yet alive, their chambers both exist and do not exist, as the Void is prelife and afterlife simultaneously. Since the line about communion has conflated Golden Eyes with Jesus Christ, that would mean the Spirit is the saviour who is changed by “dreams of madness.” The Sisters are often referred to as being the Sleeper’s “dreams,” specifically dreams of the surface. If we believe Master Colour’s assertion that Golden Eyes is the soul of the Void, that would mean the Void itself is changed by the Sisters, and is complicit and even an active participant in its own change- although quite why they are considered “mad” is unclear, if that element of the verse even manifests itself in the final game.

After this we begin to see the themes of abandonment take over from the religious imagery. We have established that the entity doing the abandoning is Colour, so the remainder of the verse would describe the effect Colour’s absence has had on the Void, as well as giving us a better sense of what Colour truly means to the Sleeper. The Nameless Sister refers to Colour as being both food and fuel, but here the verse suggests that Colour used to be so much more. It was the “hive” that has abandoned its bees- not just an external force harvested for its nutrients, but actually an element that permeated the entirety of the Void, so tightly linked to the very environment that its citizens could be said to be living “in” or at least “among” Colour. This makes its disappearance that much more devastating. In this verse we also have the first mention of “blindness,” which here we will recognize as being a clear reference to the Brothers. Again, the Brothers’ perception of themselves is challenged by the verse: first though they consider themselves saints, the poem suggests they are the sinners; here they consider themselves the Sisters’ shepherds, but the poem instead calls them the flock.

Our dream’s meaning the Earth will never dash when morning murmurs meld in single chorus, and silken dawns dissolve before us. The foul scythe will then be burnt to ash, the rippling grey will crush to diamond dust, the regrets drowned in the silent ocean, our spirits liberated by devotion. The false sun’s glitter will fade at last. We are neither stunned by midday desert splendour nor to the jewels our will surrender, no; we are dead for golden coin’s sake. And robed in silken moon rays we are dressed, by suns that shine at midnight we are blessed, and at the darkest hour… we are awake.

Sister Ava’s verse seems tailored to her character, particularly those elements of her personality she seeks to obscure from the Spirit, and maybe even herself. In my last essay regarding the Sisters, I alluded to Ava having a deceptively deep personality as evidenced by the presence of candles in her Soul Obscura, and her verse seems to support the theory that Ava hides a more vulnerable part of herself. Her candle fixation is here expressed as recurring fire imagery, especially solar images. Interestingly, the poem with the strongest fire imagery has been reserved for Ava, not Una. Fire is not all that links this verse to Ava, though, there is also a recurring theme of treasure: Ava’s richly (arguably garishly) decorated alcove is almost uniformly gilded, and draped in rich silks. Finally, as I hope to demonstrate, Ava’s verse seems to deal with what happens to the Sleeper after Breakthrough. The Void itself is obliquely referred to by many previously unused nicknames, which seems to be possible thanks to Ava’s taste for violet’s inspiration.

Almost immediately in the poem two elements of Ava’s personality are fused into one with the description of “silken dawns” dissolving. The four lines that follow this appear to have some relevance to the fate of the Void after Breakthrough. Here both the “rippling grey” (grey being absence of colour, ie, the Void) and the “silent ocean” could be read as references to the Sleeper. It is “crushed to diamond dust,” destroyed by the act of ascension, and in it regrets are “drowned.” Whether the “regrets” are Ava’s fellow Sisters, or whether this line refers to Ava’s own regrets being left behind so that they will not impare her on the surface is up for interpretation. After this, it is also possible to interpret the “false sun” as being representative of the Void: after all, the Void does “fade at last” after Breakthrough. I believe the lines that follow represent Ava discovering hidden depths of strength: the “midday desert splendour” could be the Void (Nameless Sister even calls the Void a “desert on the threshold of death”), and the “jewels” are Colour, and that these lines represent Ava casting off her more materialistic impulses and lethargic nature. Although the line that follows immediately about being dead for “golden coin” seems to suggest she has retained some of her materialism, here it is important to remember that gold is in the Void the Colour of trust.

The final line I want to draw attention to is “our spirits liberated by devotion.” Here the “spirits” could be either the Spirit himself, or specifically Ava’s spirit, or even the spirits of all the Sisters. What is most interesting though is the mention of “devotion,” which for our purposes is equivalent to the Rite of Devotio. This line can be most straightforwardly interpreted as the Sisters being freed from the Void through the Rite of Devotio, which is probably how this line manifests itself in the game. It also, however, lends itself to the interpretation that somehow all the Sisters are positively affected by Breakthrough (the pluralized use of the word “spirits” allows this), or even that Breakthrough will somehow “liberate” the Spirit rather than kill him. Sister Yani makes an allusion to this as her hearts are opened, suggesting that even after performing Breakthrough, the Guest “won’t die forever.”

By suns that shine at midnight we are blessed. Keen rays descend through mortared spires, the universe’s race is paced with fire. The nebulae, the stars, the voided depths, from Canis Major to Vega and to Beta, to Ursa Major and sad Pleiades, they cross the skies as sage deities, creating planets like divine excreta. Oh dust of worlds, oh pure holy swarm, I measured, checked, adapted, scaled, and formed, gave names, drew maps, and specified the order, but starry horror will not let us go. It makes us call to foul, primal woe, when will we know the bliss of Lethe’s waters?

Like Sister Ava, Uta’s poem seems both suited to her personality and a lens through which we can see elements of her character she didn’t reveal during the game. Uta’s poem is appropriate for her due to its strong astronomical focus, which is reflected in Uta’s stargazing frigidity. The verse highlights both the external relationship Uta has with the stars (and her peculiar cycloptic moon), as well as the hitherto unseen internal significance the celestial bodies hold for Uta. Uta’s intense skyward focus has been difficult to fully interpret before now: in my previous article I suggested her little staring contest with the moon was the result of her oppression at the hands of Brother Mantid, which may yet be true, or a part of the truth. Now, though, we can see that Uta has an almost scientific fascination with the stars. The verse not only mentions by name several real constellations and star systems (and gets one wrong in the process: here I’ve corrected the reference to “Canis Major” that the game mistakenly and artlessly calls “Alpha Dog”), but also refers to the process of categorizing and organizing the star systems. This fascination also cycles back into Uta’s potential motivation at the hands of fear, though, suggesting “starry horror will not let us go.” Although she puts up a brave face through the game, Uta is followed by fear wherever she goes.

Uta’s fascination with the stars is interesting enough at face value, but is even more telling if her stargazing is interpreted as a longing for the surface. If her longing for the stars is extrapolated into an otherwise unexpressed desire to see the Upper Limit, we learn even more about Sister Uta. Already we have seen how the subtle differences between her physical form and her Soul Obscura have suggested that Uta is more alert and invested than she lets on. Now, we can see how in spite of her apparent ambivalence, Uta may truly desire to achieve Breakthrough. Quite why she would hide such an intense desire is unclear, but it could tie into her desire for emerald. She has hidden away and protected her true desire, for whatever reason. Fear of repercussions from her tyrannical Brother? Shame? Uncertainty? Perhaps she is afraid the Spirit will not select her for Breakthrough, and so decides against revealing her desire to him?

The final line of significance is also somewhat telling: “when will we know the bliss of Lethe’s waters?” In Greek mythology, Lethe was one of the rivers of Hades, and drinking from its waters caused complete forgetfulness. Why should Uta, who spends her every waking hour ceaselessly categorizing the constellations of the Upper Limit, so desire to forget?

Why don’t I know the bliss of Lethe’s waters? Why does my spirit cry into the night? It knows not the taste of burning spite. It pleads not to Satan’s wily daughters. The circle is broken, and the chants dispelled, while everyone is bathed in brilliant rays rejoicing in the wine of passing days we’re drawn to lights beyond the blue sky’s shell. The rustling grass, the shimmer of the swamps, a lazy wind plays out a vain romp and carries the shade of Persephone to the hundredfold glowing, who gazes through the gust. Yet my spirit has a sad mistrust, crying as I contemplate antiquity.

Appropriately for cryptic Sister Echo, this verse of Corona Australis is difficult to understand as either an influence on the finished game or a send-off to its assigned Sister. With regards to Tension, there are some ideas that could be said to be analogous to concepts from the finished game, but the connections here are at their most tenuous and broad. And as a companion piece for Echo, it is ambiguous and unclear- probably exactly how Echo would like it.

Echo’s verse is deeply reflective, as summarized by the final line about “contemplating antiquity.” My attention is drawn first to the lines which begin “the circle is broken…” This, it seems to me, can be interpreted as a reminiscence on the Void as it used to be, apparently from an outsider’s perspective. I came to this conclusion through the mention of “wine,” which for our purposes is almost certainly Colour, and since it is accompanying “rejoicing” in “passing days,” these lines probably refer to a period when Colour was plentiful. But, our narrator is “drawn to lights beyond the blue sky’s shell.” Rather than partaking of the wine (wine imagery will crop up again, so keep it in mind), our narrator yearns for something more. For our purposes, this yearning could only possibly be for the Upper Limit.

Does this suggest that even before the Void’s death, there are Sisters who desired ascension all the same? There are Sisters who it is easy to imagine would be comfortable in the Void if not for the famine of Colour- hedonistic Sister Ava, or headstrong Sister Eli, for example. But maybe other Sisters strive for improvement or perfection regardless of their objective circumstances. That Echo would desire Breakthrough in and of itself, not merely as a means of escaping the Void, is reinforced by her wandering nature. Echo could be said to have wanderlust, desiring to move on and explore not just because her circumstances are dire, but because it is a part of her very personality.

There are a few more things I’d like to make note of before we move on. The first is the reference to Satan. We’ve seen that the poem analogizes the Spirit to Jesus, so who could be Satan? The Brothers? Although the Brothers’ relationship with the Sisters is complicated, the Sisters are never suggested to be their children (neither literally nor metaphorically.) Perhaps Master Colour is Satan, and his daughters are the individual Colours? Colour is “pleaded” to by the Brothers, after all. But, as we have seen, Colour is an unambiguously masculine presence. What is most likely is that this reference has many indirect, but no direct, manifestations in the game. Second, there is an error in the game’s narration of this passage. The narration reads “a lazy wind plays out a vain romp and carries the shade of Persephone to Pleiades.” Above, I have corrected the line to read “the shade of Persephone to the hundredfold glowing.”

My spirit cries, entangled by the weeds. They grew from seeds nourished by blackness, their poison stuns they bind in shackles like horrors sealed in the pyramids, but neither fire-born marble nor granite can make a frame immune to the power of the flows of ageless, primal lava, that runs through our veins and fills us with might. The tomb of suns, the urn of dead world’s ash, the corpse of moon and saturn’s lifeless flesh is set in mind and taken by the heart. In dying stars, life is born anew, but spirit’s force is granted to a few who hold life’s transcendent pains apart.

Of course Sister Aya’s verse would follow directly from Echo’s, but what is most interesting to me in this passage is that rather than simply inheriting the end of the previous verse for its own beginning, Aya’s beginning alters the meaning of Echo’s ending. Where Echo’s poem ends with her spirit (or possibly the Spirit) crying as it “contemplates antiquity,” here it is “entangled by the weeds.” The change in wording serves to suggest that Echo’s nostalgia for how the Void used to be has no place in Aya’s emotional wheelhouse. For Aya, looking back on the past is tantamount to falling into a trap, and history is compared to blackness, poison, shackles, and horrors. Aya’s strongly forward-thinking temperament may make her a fine candidate for ascension after all.

More than Aya, though, this verse holds many “seeds,” as it were, of ideas that would blossom in Tension. First, the imagery of “ageless, primal lava, that flows through our veins.” For our purposes, we will recognize this as a reference to Colour, specifically the way it flows through the Guest’s body as his blood. Here it is said to “fill us with might,” which could be what inspired the idea of the Colour in Golden Eyes’ hearts altering his strengths. To fill the Spirit up with crimson is to literally fill him with might, after all.

There is also a glorious zygotic reference to the process that would become Breakthrough in Aya’s verse. Beginning with the line “in dying stars…” we can see a reference to life being “born anew,” the importance of a “spirit” and his “force,” (understood here to be Colour) and the idea that it is granted to “a few” (one, or even zero, although apparently plans existed in the earlier stages of development to allow two Sisters to ascend. Yani has leftover dialogue referring to the process, suggesting that only two Sisters who “share a Colour” will be allowed to live.) Although the idea of the Sisters (and other denizens of the Void) being neither alive nor dead is not present in this verse, there is an early reference to the concept of taking something that is dying and creating life from it. This could have inspired the idea of the dead Void ejecting a living Sister and world into the Upper Limit, or it could have informed the concept of the Sisters existing but not being alive, or perhaps both.

We hold life’s transcendent pains apart. We bear grief and disappointment’s fire. But the banner of our sorrow’s ire flutters in the winds of the departed Let the biting flames poison our spirit! Singing spirits smothered by corpses like Laocoon tangled in knotted snakes, straining to break free, yet keeping silent. But no bliss will ever change this pain, the dignity of this restraint, the tension, this ecstasy of hopeless prison. For the balm of Lethe’s oblivion, we rain a grail of sorrows on the world, we exiles, wanderers and poets!

The first thing that will catch the reader’s attention in this passage is the use of the word tension. This is almost certainly where Ice-Pick Lodge first got the name for their project. In the game, the word “tension” is used specifically to describe Turgor, the state of being filled to bursting with Colour: it is said to be “unbearable tension.” The state of Turgor is necessary for Breakthrough, and although the tension is agonizing, it is through that agony that a Sister will be given the chance to ascend. It is to become a dangerously tightened bow, capable of loosing its arrow clear into the next world, but destroying itself in the process. In Eli’s verse, tension is described as a “dignified restraint,” and a “hopeless prison.” The phrase “hopeless prison” will have some thematic resonance here, as it could be applied to the Void itself. Tension is also tied up (so to speak) with the mythological figure Laocoon, who is famously depicted in a Hellenistic sculpture being captured and assaulted by snakes alongside his similarly punished sons. Laocoon is described here as “straining to break free, yet keeping silent.” Silent Laocoon here becomes analogous to the mute Devastator, so the implication here is that the Spirit wishes to escape the Void himself- and who could blame him?

Also important to note is that there are two mentions of a “spirit” or “spirits” here, which are always worth noting as potential references to the Guest. First there is a reference to “biting flames” poisoning the spirit. In the poem it is an early reference to Laocoon, but its relation to the Void is ambiguous. There are substances said to be poisonous in the Void: each Sister has two specific Colours which will poison her, and the Brothers refer to Nerva as a poison. Neither of these would be considered poisonous to the Spirit, however, so it’s likely that it was merely the concept and language of poisons that made it to the final version of the game. Still, I wouldn’t be surprised to find that an early draft of the game had poisons for the Spirit to be wary of. The second use of the word “spirit” immediately follows the first, and refers to “singing spirits smothered by corpses.” The Guest is unable to sing, since he is mute, but since no other character from the Void sings, this concept is probably unused in the final game. “Smothered by corpses” is interesting, though. The implication in Eli’s verse seems to be that the Spirit desires to ascend himself, so the “corpses” are probably the non-living Sisters, smothering him with their hunger, their need for attention, their reliance on him, and rendering him unable to ascend.

Finally, just something interesting that may have manifested itself as a mechanic of the game. The final three lines of the passage begin with another reference to “Lethe’s oblivion,” the amnesiac waters of one of the rivers of Hades. What is suggested here is that in order to forget, the subject of the poem would “rain a grail of sorrows on the world.” To me, “raining a grail of sorrows” suggests the consequences of painting with Colour. Throughout the game, the more Colour you spend, the more you damage the Void, and as you progress it is possible to actually kill chambers by spending too much Colour. Performing Breakthrough will outright destroy the Void, and is said to require all of its Colour. What I believe this verse is trying to suggest is that after achieving ascension, the Sister will not remember her experiences in the Void.

We exiles, wanderers and poets- who yearned to be but failed to become. Where birds have nests, beasts their lair homes, our lot is a staff and beggar’s hovel. The duty is failed, the promises are broken, the path unwalked, and our doom is nigh. Dreams of such roads drowning in a sigh of songs unsung and poems never spoken. in shards of will it is so hard to find your own true self, so hard to confine the foolish pride, so hard to enter another’s marquee, and to beg for bread- hard for the vanguard’s soul to render alive that never has been truly dead.

Ima’s passage contains within it maybe the most dense collection of imagery and inspiration that would eventually find its way into Tension. Its contents range from the general, sketching broadly what would become the tone and themes of the finished game, to the specific, including phrases used almost verbatim and gameplay mechanics described in almost prescient detail.

Let’s begin with the widest focus and get narrower as we go along. The first line echoes Sister Eli’s verse’s finale, as the structure of Voloshin’s poem has dictated so far. Worth noting here, again, is the reference to the word “wanderer,” one of Aya’s nicknames for the Spirit. As early as the second line the broad strokes of The Void are being laid down. “Who yearned to be but failed to become-” could this line refer to anything but the Sisters, toiling in existence without life? The lines that follow will inform the atmosphere of the Void as a location: “our lot is a staff and beggar’s hovel.” The concept of begging is important to the Void, as the Sisters are required to plead for their sustenance. This is also not the last reference to begging we will find in Ima’s verse.

The lines which follow this are possibly a reference to the concept that the Brothers were originally intended to be proper guardians of the Sisters, but have strayed from their path. “The duty is failed, the promises are broken,” etc, suggest that the Sisters are supposed to ascend, and the Brothers know it, but have “broken their promises” and failed in their duty- devolving instead into self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and tyranny.

From here the verse transitions into more specific phrasing that appear to have made it into the finished product almost totally intact. To begin with, the line “it is so hard to find your own true self” is reminiscent of the endgame quest to collect the Guest’s “one true heart-” the Heart of Breakthrough. It is, in fact, so hard: it is being hoarded by Brother Montgolfier, who will defend it with his life. From there we find lines about entering “another’s marquee” to “beg for bread.” By now we will recognize that any reference to sustenance is necessarily an allegory for Colour. That it is here linked with the concept of begging- mentioned in Ima’s poem for the second time- makes the connection even stronger. Entering “another’s marquee” is related to the Spirit entering the Sisters’ chambers, although interestingly according to the poem it would then be the Spirit who is begging the Sisters, instead of the other way around.

The real heart (so to speak) of Ima’s verse, though, is the final couplet. Here Tension’s true goal, its whole thesis, is alluded to in its earliest incarnation. On the face of it, it is a mention of “rendering alive” something that “never has been truly dead.” To our eyes, clearly a reference to Breakthrough. It helps tip the scales that the entity said to be doing the rendering is a “vanguard’s soul,” or our very own Spirit. Furthermore, specific mention is made of the difficulty of the task, which said by many sources within the Void to be impossible. The most interesting observation for me, however, is the suggestion that the Sisters have never been “truly dead.” This could be an early phase of the concept of the Sisters having an existence without life, or it could also be a comment on the Void’s nebulously defined “afterlife” status.

They’re not alive, but neither are they dead. They’re deaf to words, and their touch is senseless. They’re blunt to smell and their pain is endless. Their doom unaltered by any event, is sealed in darkness, but light-giver Phoebus bestows the blind with overwhelming awe in sight of God, and the concealed cave is turned to Christmas den by holy vortex, the primal night who bore him in her womb. The offspring sent to her by miser father is carrying her gifts to fateful brother, the one by solar rage who was entombed, who has become the toy of fateless play, who is alive, yet destined to be fey.

Una’s poem will by now be recognizable as a clear inspiration for the Brothers, and in fact the word “brother” is used specifically towards the verse’s end. The first line follows Ima’s last, and while in the context of Ima’s verse it seemed a clear reference to the Sisters, in Una’s verse it seems to also describe the Brothers. Also worth mentioning is that “they’re not alive, but neither are they dead” is almost exactly how the Nameless Sister describes Predators to the Spirit. Between the Sisters, the Brothers, the Predators, and the Guest, it seems that the only denizen of the Void not straddlling the line between life and death is Colour, and even Colour seems to be clinging to existence in the Void by the merest thread.

From this point on for a while into the poem, the lines will seem to refer almost exclusively to the Brothers. They can be said to be “deaf to words” because they are zealous and dogmatic, but it is also worth noting that they could be called “deaf to words” because the Spirit is mute. The Brothers’ “pain,” said here to be “endless,” is off-handedly referred to by Brother Tyrant, who suggests that the Brothers’ monstrous forms are a result of their agonizing climb from out of the Nightmare. Following this there is the most direct connection to the Brothers we have seen yet: “light-giver Phoebus bestows the blind with overwhelming awe in sight of God.” The dual reference here to blindness and religious zeal almost certainly directly inspired the conception of the Brothers.

After this, we have a reference to a “holy vortex,” which I believe can be said to be analogous to the Sleeper, and tellingly a mention of a womb. In my Beginner’s Guide to the Void, I hypothesized that the aesthetics of the Void’s “world map,” such as it is, are deliberately uterine, and that the Void as a whole can be said to be a “womb” in which the possibility for life (expressed in the Sisters) slumbers, waiting for a chance to be realized. This line provides a bit of corroboration for my theory, giving it less of a “crackpot” feel, which I quite appreciate.

The final sentiments expressed by Una’s verse are dense and knotty, and I’m not ashamed to admit I have difficulty understanding them. It’s tempting to interpret the “offspring” as being the Sisters, who at least have the potential to be considered “children” of a sort. However, the offspring are being sent to a female recipient, and the Sisters are the only feminine presence in the Void. “Miser father” is probably safely interpreted as an early incarnation of Master Colour, and we will see references to a father figure again in Sister Ole’s poem. The final lines also suggest that the Brothers are “entombed,” and are “destined to be fey.” Most confusingly of all, it suggests they are “alive,” which as we’ve already seen is somewhere between unlikely and impossible. My best estimation is that these sentiments either did not survive the development process, getting weeded out somewhere during the game’s production, or that whatever meaning that is there to be had is simply outside my reach.

Entombed, he is destined to be fey, yet sun’s hot bark is clear to his sight. From sepulchre that arises from midnight he sees the land. Wheat splayed in the rays, mules approach, scythes crop, a flail beats the ear, rafts drift, beasts sleep, flitting birds make nests, and from his shroud’s folds, he sees the fest of days and nights that spill into the years. Without joy, without tears and pain, he watches over human’s idle fates with no black thought, without asking why. Beyond existence, will, or any wish in knowing peace unknown to you and I; for to the earth, we are forever banished.

Ire’s passage is among the more mysterious, as its pastoral and serene imagery seems to be at odds with the barren realities of the Void. More that half of the poem conjures images of hot sun, rich agricultural success, animal husbandry, and industrial locals. However, the only “animals” to be found in the Void are the aggressive Predators, and the denizens of the Void are the stagnant Brothers and the imprisoned Sisters. Surely Ire’s entire verse is falsified. A hallucination, a daydream perhaps, or maybe even a memory or a premonition? It is difficult as well to determine who’s point of view is being represented here. The speaker is masculine, but that only rules out the Sisters. It could be that the idyllic scene is a Brother’s warped perspective of the Sleeper, and that this verse inspired the concept of the Brothers believing the Void to be some kind of paradise.

It is also possible, though, that the verse is related to the Taboo Breaker. This theory is supported by the lines beginning “without joy, without tears and pain…” and continues to the end of the passage. The idea here is that the Spirit watches over the “humans” (necessarily the Sisters), and adheres to his duties without fail. “Without asking why,” because the Spirit literally cannot ask. The Spirit does not seek “peace unknown to you and I,” that is to say, he doesn’t seek to ascend, and desires only to ascend a Sister (although self-ascension is possible, any player hearing this message will have chosen to ascend Ire, so the point is moot.) Most interestingly, the final line suggests both “banishment” and “the Earth.” Whether this is a negative spin on the process of Breakthrough, or whether for our purposes “the Earth” is actually a reference to the Void is unclear.

Its relation to the world of the game is tenuous, and its relationship to Sister Ire is difficult to determine as well. The closest analogue to my mind that can be drawn between Ire and her poem is that it could have inspired Ire’s fixation on gardens and trees. Ire straddles a dead tree in her Soul Obscura, suggesting she has a deep, rich connection with the earth, and it is Ire who teaches the Spirit in detail many of the mechanics behind the planting of gardens. Ire’s chamber- her pond- also has a very strong natural influence, even going so far as to feature seemingly living plant life.

Those, to earth, who are forever hurled, cannot enjoy the vastness of the fields as time’s each passing moment yields the dancing shadows of other worlds. The soul sees the flicker far and vague as on the surface of this ancient regret one tried to read the holy alphabet, but lost the pattern in his own plague. And so he walks the dust of earthly sod an apostate, a self forgotten god. In things familiar he seeks forbidden codes. His flesh, immortal, is shrouded in flames, and to him, even Death does simply nod, him, who saw the dreams, and knew the names.

Yani’s poem seems tailored to her specifically, although in the broadest possible terms it has ramifications for all the denizens of the Void. Although the poem seems to follow her after Breakthrough (seemingly adhering to the popular notion that the poems describe the Sisters’ lives after ascending to the Surface), the attitude it describes has more in common with Yani’s early, fearful, self-denying nature, instead of the relatively optimistic spirit she becomes as her hearts are opened. But, I’m getting ahead of myself: my reasoning that Yani’s verse describes her experiences in the Upper Limit hinges on the first line’s use of the word “earth.” The Upper Limit can be interpreted as “earth,” (and in fact, Ice-Pick Lodge’s own Igor Pokrovsky said as much in an email to me that “the Upper Limit was intended to be our world”) and that the “hurling” being described is a Sister being hurled from the Sleeper to the Surface. However, if we subscribe to the belief that the Sisters came to the Void from above (Yani herself especially has very strong connections to the Upper Limit), it’s possible that “earth” here actually refers to the Void, and that those “hurled to earth” are those spirits who linger in the Void after death (not unlike the Guest.)

Either interpretation, though, transition into similar themes: being unable to adapt to the world because the “shadows of other worlds” leave you uneasy. The connection here to Yani is strong and immediate, for a change, since Yani explicitly complained to the Devastator that she was perturbed by her close proximity to the Upper Limit, and appears to be frightened by the memories of her last visit there. If we interpret the verse as being about Yani’s ascension, this verse becomes tragic: even in ascension, Yani cannot find peace, she still “sees the flicker far and vague.” Selfishly enough, it is probably mere distaste for the idea that Yani would be miserable above that leads me to favour the belief that this verse is related to Yani’s attitude as it was in the Void.

Interestingly, it’s my belief that the final few lines are told from the perspective of the Spirit. During the writing process of this article, I had to reassess and reevaluate my own opinions and theses regarding the meaning of these verses, and one theory I started developing was the idea that the verses were the Spirit’s reflections on the Sisters after they had left the Void. It was an idea I ultimately didn’t follow to fruition, but here I think the idea has a bit more strength. After Yani’s ascension, then, the Spirit would “walk the dust of earthly sod” (here the use of the word “earthly” to refer to the Void would be reinforced), and we see that without Yani’s spark of carefully hidden, delicately protected creativity, the Guest finds himself going about his business with a kind of malaise, seeking “forbidden codes” that might give him some indication of how his chosen Sister was faring in the world above. In the end, I suppose it was a bit too romantic even for my tastes.

The ones who saw the dreams and knew the names, who heard the grasses talking to each other, who learned the will of their ancient father, and listened to the songs of tidal waves, the ones whose souls have been purified, the ones harnessed to the pain of challenge, who lit the mystic candles on the fringe, who became a pure shade of darkest nights, who didn’t squeeze their grape to sinful glass, and didn’t seek the joys of earthly leisure, not in the priestess’ dances, nor in the pleasure, but who descended into hell’s morass to meet their shadow at the very bottom- they don’t expect hearts with love to blossom.

Perhaps appropriately, Sister Ole’s poem is one of the most dense and intensely knotted of the verses. It seems to be referring to multiple parties from the Void, either all at once or cycling through each of them. Again, it is important to keep in mind that the verses merely inspired The Void, and are not directly analogous to the story of the game or the characters in their final incarnations. For this verse to make sense, we have to keep track of the final line the poem is building to: “they don’t expect hearts with love to blossom.” For the purposes of our Void-inspired reading, this line almost certainly refers to Breakthrough. So, in theory, whichever party the verse is about does not expect this process to be possible- or expects it to be possible, but unrealistic, or overly optimistic, or hopelessly unlikely.

This pessimistic outlook could belong to the Brothers, and it could certainly belong to some of the Sisters individually, if not to the Sisters as a whole. From player to player this could also refer to the Guest, as it is possible for him to fail his purpose and either become Brother Doppelganger or ascend himself. If this poem was recited for the Spirit’s ending, I would be particularly open to this interpretation. Since it is read for Sister Ole, though, I think any analysis of this verse will favour the conclusion that it is about the Brothers, but I will attempt to interpret the verse from the Spirit’s perspective as well.

Several lines from the poem suggest that it could be about the Brothers. The mentions of souls being “purified” and “harnessed to the pain of challenge” are reminiscent of how the Brothers describe themselves, particularly regarding their difficult and permanently scarring ascent from the Nightmare. Similarly, relative to the other denizens of the Void, the Brothers are best described as “a pure shade of darkest night.” The most revealing lines of the poem, to me, are those that begin “who didn’t squeeze their grape to sinful glass.” In the context of The Void, “squeezing grape to sinful glass” is analogous to wasting Colour. The “sinful glass” referred to is probably the Sisters in this context, as the Brothers consider it sinful to feed them with Colour. The Brothers also certainly don’t seek the “leisure” of the “priestesses’ dances.” If the priestesses are the Sisters, and their “dances” their reactions to having their hearts opened, the Brothers certainly don’t seek those particular joys. Regarding the Brothers, “descending into Hell’s morass to meet their shadow at the very bottom” probably refers to their relationship with the Nightmare. The phrase “very bottom” evokes the sense of “Absolute Death” the Nameless Sister warns us about, and it is also where the Brothers were apparently born. Finally, the Brothers certainly don’t expect hearts with love to blossom- they believe the Sisters are manipulative, hedonistic infidels, in all likelihood incapable of love, and under their control completely incapable of Breakthrough.

If we interpret the verse with the Spirit in mind, certain other aspects of the poem come into focus that couldn’t make sense viewed through the lens of the Brothers. Immediately, the lines about hearing “the grasses talking to each other” and listening to “the songs of tidal waves” can be understood as the Spirit hearing and understanding the voice of Colour- after all, the Spirit literally hears the voice emanating from the grassy wild sprigs that populate the chambers. The “ancient father” mentioned here probably refers to Master Colour, then, and learning his will becomes tantamount to discovering the Rite of Devotio and the act of Breakthrough. The “mystic candles on the fringe” could refer to the Sisters, whom the Taboo Breaker “lights” with Colour- they are said to be “on the fringe” because they are all of them capable of ascending to the Upper Limit. After this, we get to the lines about “squeezing grape to sinful glass.” In a nutshell, if the Guest does not “squeeze his grape to sinful glass”- if he follows the commandments of the Brothers and does not spend his Colour on the Sisters- he must not “expect hearts with love to blossom.” In other words, if the player decides to ascend the Spirit, he must believe that the Sisters are either unable or unwilling to successfully create the world above. In a Spirit-focused interpretation of Ole’s verse, “descending into Hell’s morass” refers not to the Nightmare, but to the Void: it suggests the Spirit came down to the Void from above.

As for which of these interpretations can be said to be most accurate? Well, that argument is pointless. Since we are talking about pure inspiration, in all likelihood both interpretation are correct, and the verse inspired the characterization of the Brothers and the Spirit simultaneously. Although the two meanings appear to conflict, seeing as how the single verse is unlikely to be referring to two antagonistic parties, it is perfectly likely that the one verse served as an inspiration for both parties. In fact, the line about “descending into Hell’s morass” could be interpreted from the Sister’s perspective as well: certain Sisters imply that they have been to the Upper Limit, and may even be from there (Yani explicates this, and Sister Una claims she wants to go to the surface “again” when her third heart is opened).

So there you have it. Although part of the beauty of the Void’s use of Voloshin’s Corona Australis lies with its ambiguity, part of the fun of the game is attempting to extract meaning from that decision. While I very much doubt I’ve come close to anything resembling an “answer,” (if such a thing could be said to exist) I hope I’ve at least managed to enrich your own understanding of what the poems might mean, or might have meant in their original context, or what they mean to other players. If I slacked off when it came to an analysis of your favourite Sister’s poem, I can’t apologize enough, although I encourage you to let me know if you have anything to add to or challenge in my own little analysis.

This being my final entry in my Void series for now, I suppose it would be appropriate to write some sort of conclusive, ruminating send-off. And yet, it would betray the very nature of Tension to wrap things up concretely and move on, so instead I’ll offer a final nugget of navel-gazery. While The Void is thick with atmospheric misery, crushing bleakness, back-bending and often impossible seeming labour, and a pervasive air of melancholy, it couldn’t actually “depress” me. I have a confession to make: this entire article came about because I thought the traditional interpretation of these verses (as an abstract representation of the Sisters’ created worlds) was too depressing. For no other reason than because it made me sad to think of Sister Ole failing to allow “hearts with love to blossom” or little Yani not “enjoying the vastness of the fields,” I embarked on an eight thousand word crusade of Modernist Russian poetry analysis (frankly, tantamount to self-abuse.) Here’s a question that I could consider from now until rapture and probably never come up with a satisfying answer: how did a game so apparently bleak nevertheless inspire so much care, such a strong emotional investment, so much genuine sympathy, and so much optimism? That particular line of questioning is, for once, left as an exercise for the reader.

#the void #тургор #turgor

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hells-greatestdad · 6 months ago

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who does your muse hate?

how does your muse handle grief?

what is your muse’s biggest regret?

how many scars does your muse have?

how long can your muse hold a grudge?

who does your muse hate?

His father - yes, "God". Possibly others in Heaven as well, but with a little more complexities involved.

how does your muse handle grief?

He tends to draw inward, self isolate. If he's in a relationship, he may or may not lean on his partner depending on factors. If he feels like he's going to be a burden by opening up in any way, he will keep it bottled up. At some point though and in some way it will come spilling out - I mean, this guy can't mask to save his life, he wears his emotions on his sleeve under the best of circumstances.

what is your muse’s biggest regret?

Out of all regrets (of which there are many), hmm...

Hah.... this is complicated. Gonna answer this based on series canon, which means I'm not factoring in any specific verses I may have in my answer here.

What he tends to value most, I'd say.... is his family, that is to say: Lilith and Charlie. I think Lilith being present kept him from entirely giving up after being cast out of Heaven, and I think this is the case with Charlie's eventual arrival as well.

So, I tend to think his biggest regrets would involve the family being torn apart as-is currently the case in canon. And all the complexities that led to that..... he by and large blames himself for most if not all of it in some way or another, I think.

how many scars does your muse have?

I'm not sure actually, but I tend to think most and the largest ones are from the fall from Heaven. Both from possibly being prodded with angelic weapons, and from having fallen from such a great height and whatever else may have been involved with that.

how long can your muse hold a grudge?

A very long time. I don't know if there is a limit where it starts to fizzle out or not. I think he feels things very strongly.

#ooc #some of these really made me think #yay for discoveries

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hangmvnstrick · 13 days ago

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Rules of the Game:

1. My portrayal of Amanda Young/The Pig will be portrayed based off my own headcanons/ideas and some elements from the movies. Do not interact with this blog is that's not your cup of tea .

2. Do NOT interact if you're a minor or a personal blog, please. The posts on this blog are meant for roleplay purposes and roleplay only. My personal blog is open for any one of age to interact with. If you kindly ask, I do not mind sharing my personal blog. Please respect my wishes, thank you very much. I do not feel comfortable interacting with anyone who isn't of age because I am older than 25. Please do not lie about your age. Lying about your age will result in a hard block. This blog will be interacting with mutuals only. Meaning I follow your blog, you follow mine. Please don't take it personally as there are some fandoms I'm not familiar enough with to interact your blog if I don't follow you back. Original characters are welcome and encouraged as long as have a bio up to work something out. But for now, the interactions will be limited to the horror verse only. If you have any questions about this, shoot me a message. I'm also selective with who I follow back. If I follow you back, it's because I'm interested to interact with you. I don't follow blogs just to follow.

3. This blog will touch on dark topics such as death, murder, suicide, self harm, abuse, among other dark matters. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, this may not be the blog for you. Regardless, I'm still going to include warnings just in case. If there's any other things any of my writing partner would like me to tag, let me know. It's important that you're also comfortable.

4. Shipping. Shipping is not a main priority for Amanda. However that doesn’t mean that I’d be opposed to it but it would need a lot of development and discussion for it to happen. Due to the fact that Amanda doesn’t trust or open up to anyone other than John so easily. Which speaking of, I don’t ship John and Amanda. She even says it herself that she sees him like a father figure and a mentor. So no. I will not be shipping with any John Kramer writers. Other than that, if you’re interested in discussing shipping, don’t hesitate to shoot me a message. I’m pretty much open minded about dynamics between our muses.

* this blog will be single ship unless stated otherwise.

5. This is a zero drama tolerance blog so leave me out of the whole he said, she said stuff. Unless someone did something that's actually wrong, I don't want to hear it. Along with that, I won't be allowing any kind of hateful and/or problematic content. Absolutely NO RACISM, homophobia, pedophilia, or incest will be tolerated on this blog. If you condone such acts, you'll be blocked and reported. As a Hispanic person myself, this is a safe space for people of any background and identity.

6. My muse’s actions do not reflect my own. I cannot stress this enough that Amanda Young is a killer, after all, she is one of Jigsaw’s apprentices. But if you're uncomfortable at any point and you'd like to drop the thread, let me know. There won't be any hard feelings.

7. Do NOT take my edits, headcanons, writings, metas, please. My portrayals are my own based on my own interpretations/ headcanons. And I don't take too kindly to my creativity being stolen and l'll make it known so people can be aware.

8. Memes. I fully encourage my mutuals to send prompts/memes to break the ice. No matter how long ago I reblogged an rp meme list, please feel free to send 'em my way!

9. Activity. My activity here will fluctuate. After all, tumblr is not a priority but rather a hobby. That being said, I also have two other blogs @tokcshie & @devotedsheikah , where you can find me at. And on top of that, I have a big girl job which I love very much so sometimes I may not be able to get stuff done, other times I'm just lurking. But just know that I'll eventually get back to you. Just please, don't hound me for replies. It’s not an issue with you, it’s an issue with myself and how slow I can be sometimes.

* discord is also available upon request for mutuals only.

#rules of the game

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tokcshie · 2 months ago

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1. My portrayal of the muses on this blog will be portrayed like original characters and with my own headcanons/ideas. Do not interact with this blog is that’s not your cup of tea .

2. Do NOT interact if you’re a minor or a personal blog, please. The posts on this blog are meant for roleplay purposes and roleplay only. My personal blog is open for any one of age to interact with. If you kindly ask, I do not mind sharing my personal blog. Please respect my wishes, thank you very much. I do not feel comfortable interacting with anyone who isn’t of age because I am older than 25. Please do not lie about your age. Lying about your age will result in a hard block. This blog will be interacting with mutuals only. Meaning I follow your blog, you follow mine. Please don’t take it personally as there are some fandoms I’m not familiar enough with to interact your blog if I don’t follow you back. Original characters are welcome and encouraged as long as have a bio up to work something out. But for now, the interactions will be limited to the demon slayer and/or the legend of Zelda verse. I’m also selective with who I follow back. If I follow you back, it’s because I’m interested to interact with you. I don’t follow blogs just to follow.

3. This blog will touch on dark topics such as death, murder, suicide and sexual themes. If any of these themes make you uncomfortable, this may not be the blog for you. Regardless, I’m still going to include warnings just in case. If there’s any other things any of my writing partner would like me to tag, let me know. It’s important that you’re also comfortable.

4. Shipping. Due to some of these muses being canonically cruel to their partners, I’m still unsure whether if they’ll be open for shipping. It’ll definitely need A LOT of development if anyone would want to ship with demons. Do not be afraid to ask though like I said above, it’ll take a while for the ship to develop. Should we end up shipping eventually, any nsft content will be exclusively written only with the muses my characters are shipping with. No exceptions. I will NOT write anything sexual with characters who are canonically minors. For instance Sabito. I don’t care if I write an alternate universe where he lives, it’s just not going to happen.

* this blog will be multi ship but only with one version of a muse.

6. My muses actions do not reflect my own. I cannot stress this enough that some of these muses are cruel and will stay that way. After all, they are demons. But if you’re uncomfortable at any point and you’d like to drop the thread, let me know. There won’t be any hard feelings.

7. Do NOT take my edits, headcanons, writings, metas, please. My portrayals are my own based on my own interpretations/headcanons. And I don’t take too kindly to my creativity being stolen and I’ll make it known so people can be aware. I’m not the best editor on here, but if you’d like something edited, just ask. Chances are that I might say yes.

8. Memes. I fully encourage my mutuals to send prompts/memes to break the ice. No matter how long ago I reblogged an rp meme list, please feel free to send ‘em my way!

9. Activity. My activity here will fluctuate. After all, tumblr is not a priority but rather a hobby. That being said, I also have another blog @devotedsheikah , where you can find me at. And on top of that, I have a big girl job which I love very much so sometimes I may be able to get stuff done, other times I’m just lurking. But just know that I’ll eventually get back to you. Just please, don’t hound me for replies.

* discord is also available upon request for mutuals only.

#demon / hashira laws #tokcshie’s guidelines

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shadowleafprincess · 10 months ago

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Core Rulebook

FOLLOWS/FOLLOW-BACKS

At least to start, I’m going to be fairly selective about who I follow/follow-back. However, if I have a clear understanding of your character and/or fandom, chances are I will eventually follow you back.

Even if I don’t follow you right away, please don’t be afraid to interact with me. The more we play together, the more chance there is I will follow you back.

There are several reasons I may end up not following someone. But the biggest one is obsessive posting of NSFW images or gifs. Often I am online at work and well, I just can’t have dicks all over my dash. Sorry.

THREADS/STARTERS/PLOTTING

I’ve tried doing starters for new followers in the past and it just never ended up well. They tend to get repetitive after a while and more often than not are lost on the dash. However, I will respond to any starters I am tagged in.

I am always open to plotting. Always. So if you have an idea (or even 11% of an idea), drop by my askbox and we’ll hash it out.

RESPONSE TIME

I run several other rp blogs (in multiple fandoms), so if I don’t reply right away, chances are I am logged in to one of them. I swear I am not ignoring you. Promise.

If it’s been a week or more, feel free to poke me. That way we know it’s just me being slow and not tumblr eating notices.

MUSE PORTRAYALS

While Elara's origins lay in the 5e DnD system; I will obviously be playing fast and loose with those rules / limitations while on tumblr.

Until such time that someone picks them up, the rest of her adventuring party, her fiancee, and her family will all be NPCs. When and if they're picked up -- those blogs will be linked on her bio post.

Please do not take anything Elara says personally. She is kind of the fantasy equivalent of a Park Avenue Princess.

SHIPPING

This blog will be multi-verse and multi-ship.

I will ship Elara with almost anyone, provided there is chemistry, of course. Though several verses will have her and her fiancee as endgame.

TRIGGERS/NSFW

This blog may contain triggering material. All posts containing such material will be tagged appropriately with anything explicit being placed behind a read more.

ANON HATE

Will not be tolerated. Pure and simple.

#rules

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crushsung · 1 year ago

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#CRUSHSUNG: ind. original character roleplay blog. written by dillon; twenty-five, they/them, lesbian. triggering themes will be present. mutuals only, minors do not interact.

a study in: fallen angels, gifted child burnout, alter egos, the obsessed artist, desire to be great or nothing, self-destruction, self-mythologizing, reinvention, reclaiming your own narrative.

LINKS: verses. headcanons. playlist. pinterest. interest tracker. OTHER BLOG(S): praybird. nepoboyfriend. visceraldose.

RULES:

triggering content will be present, including but not limited to themes involving past emotional abuse/domestic violence, child neglect/exploitation, implied grooming, and substance use. none of these subjects will be written in graphic detail, but are prevalent in alice's story. i will tag whatever i can, but please use your own discretion if you decide to follow.

i do not have a ton of triggers myself, but i do ask that others please tag images of snails, slugs, and any content involving self harm.

i'm open to writing n.sfw content if we have (heavily) plotted and know each other fairly well, but i'd prefer to keep anything of an explicit nature on disc.ord. sexual content may be implied here and there, but won't be written graphically here.

iconless, mostly. sometimes not. not particular focused on visual aesthetic at the moment; i keep formatting fairly simple, but feel free to do whatever works best for you.

a little bit about me: hi, i'm dillon. aspiring screenwriter, gothic horror enthusiast, would-be hamlet impersonator, best friend of snoopy, and many other things. i've been working on a tv script featuring alice and several other characters for some time now. i have insomnia so i'm often here at odd hours. mutuals are always welcome to bother me, either here or on disc.ord (available on request!)

TEMPORARY BIO:

name. alice hélène brennan. nicknames/alias. known professionally as liddell. allie/ally or liss to select friends and partners. lissy to her mother. gender. cis woman. pronouns. she/her. birthday. august 30. age. verse dependent, 24+ in main. sexuality. bisexual, closeted. a lot of speculation and debate about this amongst the fans and media, many claim that she's dropped 'hints' in her work, but she's never confirmed or denied anything. parents. celine bouchard and owen brennan. siblings. leo brennan and nolan brennan. current location. manhattan, new york. birthplace. vancouver, british columbia. spoken languages. english (fluent), french (fluent). education. high school graduate. homeschooled from 9th to 12th grade. occupation. former musician. current poet/novelist. later film composer. faceclaim. daisy edgar-jones (main), stacy martin (alt), mackenzie davis (older) voiceclaim. riley keough. eye colour. brown. hair colour. brown. body type. slim build. height. 5'6" scent. bergamot, jasmine, honey, sea breeze, sandalwood. typically wears aegea blossom eau de parfum by aerin. tattoos/piecings. see board. personality. abrasive, distant, passionate, protective, stoic, thoughtful.

everybody knows you. nobody knows you. you don't let them.

they know versions of you - some that you allow, some that they crafted on their own. the child prodigy. a household name before you were in high school. something special, at least for awhile. before things got twisted, before you lost control of the narrative. you didn't really want any of that to begin with, but they insisted. mom and dad. crafty social climbers.

mom and dad. they might be the two people who know you the least. they never really wanted you to begin with, but you were useful. a means to an end. they split up eventually, because of course, nothing like that ever lasts. you often wonder if they ever loved each other. you know for certain that they didn't love you.

dad's got a new family now. you don't talk to them, or him. mom still calls, sometimes she visits. you always feel so guilty whenever she's around.

you don't make music anymore, but your name is still in the headlines. most of it's about your personal life. they always loved that stuff. your first kiss was documented - remember that? it made you feel sick after, how a private moment was taken and made public for everyone to see. you've never had a relationship that wasn't on display.

maybe that's why it didn't work with adam. it never felt like he was just yours or that you were just his. he loved you, or at least you think he did. but you didn't really know how to love him back. you let him go, even though it hurt. because you're a heartbreaker, or so they say.

or maybe it's that you're too damaged to be known. roy did a number on you. you still think about him sometimes, even though it's been years. you see his face everywhere. they play his songs in grocery stores. the worst part of all this, despite all he put you through, is that he might very well be the person who knew you the best. it was four years, after all. (it was longer than four years, but you aren't supposed to say that.) roy said a lot of things that weren't true about you, but some of them were. you were cruel, callous. he made you that way. you don't know how to unmake yourself.

SUMMARY:

alice - better known by her stage name 'liddell' - is a recognizable figure. famous since she was 13, once hailed as a child prodigy, several award winning albums.

has twin half-brothers, 16 years her junior, named leo and nolan on her father's side. doesn't have much of a relationship with them, only sees them on special occasions.

had a relationship with another musician and producer - roy taylor, you might know him too - since she was 18, ended when she was 22. emotionally fraught, sometimes abusive relationship. messy breakup. he had quite a few unflattering things to say about her in the end. the general public sided with him on that. she left the music industry shortly after.

also previously dated adam roswell - frontman of a punk band called blemishes. fans and press gave him the nickname 'nepo boyfriend', due to the supposed 'career boost' that came with being associated with her.

currently writes poetry and fiction. has published a poetry collection titled 'crush songs' - well reviewed, decent sales, but nowhere near the numbers she had as musician. currently working on a novel about the complex relationship between a young woman and her father - semi-autobiographical.

undiagnosed autism. special interests are ... well, as a teenager, she carried around dog-eared paperback copy of hamlet and jeff buckley's album grace on cassette tape everywhere she went. it's that serious. also likes architecture and interior design - specifically hotels. she has a bucket list of places to visit.

primarily smokes hand-rolled cigarettes. picked it up from a pretentious fuck she had a crush on when she was 15. it's pointless, but she just likes it now. will smoke store bought if it's what's available.

INFLUENCES: beth harmon, the queen's gambit (2020 miniseries). camille preaker, sharp objects (novel and 2018 miniseries). daisy jones, daisy jones and the six (novel and 2023 miniseries). her smell (2018). marianne sheridan, normal people (novel and 2020 miniseries). sally draper, mad men (2007-2015). sydney barrett, legion (2017-2019). the music of jeff buckley. the music of lucy dacus. the public image/media perception of taylor swift.

#pinned.#dni.

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n1kolaiz · 4 years ago

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ENTJ + INFJ DYNAMIC

BSD MANGA CHAPTER 54-57 SPOILERS

Chapter 54 introduced Mushitaro Oguri, and his background involving Yokomizo was ever so intriguing to me. So unfortunately, here I am.

Mushitaro and Yokomizo's dynamic:

The 'Commander' meets the 'Idealist.'

Alright, I won't go into the details about the case of Yokomizo's death, because there's no way in hell I can explain it fluently at all. So if you need further reference to what these few chapters are about, popopretty's post would elaborate on the details and whatnot.

Before I start, here's a bit of little introduction to both individual characters:

MUSHITARO OGURI

Mushitaro appears to take a lot of pride in his ability, which contributes to his arrogant complex altogether. He had his own desires and goals, and lived out his days just to fulfil them.

His ability is called the 'Perfect Crime,' which allows him to erase any trail of evidence pertaining to whatever crime he had committed. Hence, he is also known as the 'infallible Detective-killer.'

Until Ranpo proved him wrongヾ(❀╹◡╹)ﾉﾞ

His personality type is most likely 'ENTJ,' the 'Commander.'

- ENTJs are known to have exceptional leadership skills. They are confident in themselves and what they do; basically, they don't have the tendency to second-guess what they are capable of. This explains Mushitaro's ambition to achieve his ends, and his ability goes the extra mile of complimenting his success rate greatly. Whether his motives or the end results were morally good or evil, it didn't matter to Mushitaro— as long as his wishes were fulfilled.

"With tyrants and demons, I'll make deal with a demon. That's in my nature."

- They're also quite outspoken with their opinions. It's a fairly minor detail, but this shows why he wasn't afraid to express the distaste he had for mystery novels to Yokomizo— including the extravagant ideas and serpentine stories his close friend based his life upon and discussed with him.

- The subtle insensitivity mixed in with an ENTJ's preference of logic over emotion highlights one of their core weaknesses: which brings us back to Mushitaro's ability to kill his friend. Say you were to put a person with a deeply compassionate heart, who's also very well in-tact when it comes to identifying emotions and being empathetical to other's feelings: would that person be able to kill a friend they'd known for so long? For the sole reason of making his last mystery novel a deathless enigma? This is very subjective perspective, but I believe that if Mushitaro was more of an emotionalist rather than a strategist, things would have turned out different for Yokomizo's eventual fate.

Side note: His insensitivity did, however, find its limit when he realised how devastating it was to have killed his own friend with his hands. Even though there's a wide scale that measures how insensitive a person can be, they are, in fact, still human beings capable of feeling. Killing someone dear to you is no easy task; there is a breaking point for the hardest of hearts.

SEISHI YOKOMIZO

Yokimozo, also known as Kindaichi, was a mystery writer who was very particular about detail and being exclusive, especially when it came to his works. His last wish he pursued to achieve before a terminal illness took his life was done by formulating a 'mystery that transcended reality.'

"I hate regret. So I've done whatever I've wanted to do. Up until now, it's been a satisfying life. But now… I've been given a time limit…Before then, I have to complete the ultimate mystery."

His personality type is identified as 'INFJ,' also known as the 'Idealist.'

- INFJ's are deeply creative and artistic, but they express it in various different ways. For Yokomizo, he portrayed his brilliant artistic skill through his writings revolving around mysteries and their compelling depths. The fictional character's namesake was also a mystery novel writer. Yokomizo was pretty well-versed with how mysteries worked and how their details ravelled themselves into elegantly, well-established riddles, which only added to his natural flair of writing.

- Generally, INFJs are reserved, but incredibly idealistic. Yokomizo was seen to be very abstract in his idea of thinking, and this is due to the fact that INFJs have a thing for pondering about life and the meaning behind everything.

"Mushi-kun, I bet you're laughing at me for destroying myself for the sake of mystery. But if that's the case, maybe there's no such thing as unshakable values. Maybe it's up to us to decide what to put value in and what to live for. After all, we have the right to turn our own decisions into our entire world. It is, foolishly enough, the greatest luxury afforded to mankind."

- As for their weaknesses, some INFJs are very hard to get to know. They are mysterious at times, which prevents them from being flamboyant with their thoughts and opinions. Yokomizo had a very lighthearted, mystifying nature, which made him a very interesting character altogether. Despite having a high regard for their intimate relationships— INFJs can be quite private. Mushitaro vaguely points out his self-contained, introverted mannerisms in this panel:

Now, I'll get to my point.

ENTJs and INFJs don't ideally match up, but when it comes to general friendships, there are a few details that suggest an accomodating dynamic between the two personality types. These qualities emanate from Mushitaro and Yokomizo's friendship with each other.

Opposites attract in most cases, correct?

Well, in this case, ENTJs and INFJs have a lot of similarities:

intelligent

intuitive in thinking

determined

goal-oriented

But the more numerable contrasting qualities is what really brings out the agreeable traits between Mushitaro and Yokozimo. Think of it as a system where two opposites mutually keep each other in check:

1. Mushitaro bases his life on the gaining his own needs and wants, and is very firm in his sense of realism, while Yokomizo is more focused on the deep, complexities of life itself. This may come off as impractical to ENTJs, but also compliments their coordination with INFJs. Realism limits idealism, but idealists can also expand the boundaries realists place themselves in.

2. INFJs accept people and ideas as they are, not willing to put others down just to prove themselves right. Yokozimo's tolerant behaviour stands in contrast with how authoritative Mushitaro is, especially when it boils down to his arrogance— he isn't afraid to spit his pride right into his opponent's face.

Kneel, detectives! I am the king of crime! No one can force me to sin and repent!

Just for laughs reference^

So it's safe to say that because Yokomizo had an acquired sense of serenity and open-mindedness, he was able to tolerate Mushitaro's extravagant, subtle histrionic characteristics, which were laced with his superior complex.

3. In the manga, Yokomizo speaks and converses with Mushitaro in a way that suggests that he is careful with his words. INFJs are gentle and generally sensitive to the needs of others, so they tend to be careful with what comes out of their mouths. Mushitaro, like most ENTJs, are quite blunt. This points back to how insensitive they come off, even if they don't actually mean it. So when it comes to Yokozimo explaining tales of mystery to Mushitaro, Mushitaro doesn't hesitate to mock Yokozimo; but because of how understanding Yokozimo is, he doesn't take Mushitaro's opinions too seriously to the point of discounting the value of their friendship, because he knew Mushitaro didn't use his words with the intention to harm.

If you were to place a more dominant persona in Yokomizo's position, I doubt that that person would be able to tolerate such behaviours. Then again, this is crucially subjective.

I suppose the main thing I wanted to point out was how ENTJs and INFJs balanced each other out by cancelling out each other's extreme traits, and keeping each other in the middle of the equilibrium altogether. But another thing I'd like to point out to sum up Mushitaro and Yokozimo's relationship was this: the fact that Mushitaro had to kill his own friend to grant his dying wish. Dying for someone or by someone's hands is easier than killing someone, especially if that someone is dear to you, no? I guess that's the part I can't fathom— it was the type of relationship that stood out way more than I had expected. Say, the roles were switched, would Yokomizo actually kill Mushitaro? Or would Mushitaro think of such an incomprehensible way to die in the first place? Or what if these two friends had different, more superior traits that coexisted in conflict all the time, would Yokomizo even depend on Mushitaro with such a task?

The speculations are endless, or maybe it's pretty straightforward. Though, I hope this made sense.

Okay, I'm done rambling for now. Thank you for reading!

#bsd #bsd analysis #bsd characters #bungou stray dogs #bsd spoilers #bsd manga #bsd mushitaro #bsd decay of angels #decay of angels #rats in the house of the dead #.daydreams

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thatsokovianspeedster · 3 years ago

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Rules & Friendly Reminders

Most importantly, this is an 18+ ONLY blog, no minors allowed. Though many interactions will be SFW, others may not be. NSFW is not just limited to suggestive themes, it also includes violence, blood, alcohol, etc. If you are sensitive to any of that, this isn’t the blog for you. I do try and tag everything but sometimes I do forget.

I do not tolerate racism, homophobia or transphobia so absolutely no hate or you will be blocked. We are LGBTQ+ friendly here, mod swings for all teams and muse swings for both teams *wink*

Both SFW and NSFW interactions are welcome. However, all interactions will be treated as SFW unless you specify or message me otherwise. NSFW replies will be put under a cut; I don't expect the same from you. If our muses have never interacted, I prefer not to jump straight into NSFW interactions so please keep that in mind. (NSFW Hard-No’s: Incest, anything to do with Scat/Urine, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Feet. That’s it.)

I’m totally down with shipping but a heads up is always appreciated! If my muse isn’t feeling a ship I will let you know. It’s nothing personal, sometimes it happens.

This is a drama free zone. I don’t participate in or tolerate “cancel culture” or public callouts on my blog. Handle your issues in private. If you have an issue with me my messages are always open.

This is also a bullying free zone. I have a no tolerance policy on bullying. If I see it, you’ll be blocked. Just be kind, it’s not that hard.

To the anons, you can assign yourself an emoji or a nickname but please note that I won’t have NSFW interactions with any anons until you tell me your age. Do not lie to me. If you can’t confirm you are 18+ I won’t interact with you at all, so please do not ask.

Please let me know your limits, loves. I would never want to cross a line or make anyone uncomfortable. Also let me know your pronouns so I can be respectful of those as well.

I’ll only follow back if your age is in your description or pinned post! Or if you confirm your age with me. So, if you’ve followed me and I haven’t followed you back; that’s why. I’ll only follow back if I know you are 18+

I don’t mind if you reblog things from me but try not to reblog an excessive amount, please and thank you!

I also never mind if you tag me anything! Whether it’s something that reminds you of my muse or our muse’s relationship or something you made, I absolutely adore it!

I don’t mind rewriting anything! If you don’t like something or it makes you uncomfy, please don’t be afraid to message me and let me know, just obviously be nice about it.

I’m down for all the threads! So don’t be afraid to start more than one thread at a time with me. I also don’t have a preference on reply length. Just as long as we can keep the thread moving along, I am perfectly content.

I am a real person behind this RP. That means that I may be busy at times, but I promise I will always respond as soon as I can. Just be patient with me. My messages on here are always open and you are more than welcome to ask for my Discord, it’s normally easier to reach me on there. You can call me Marie :)

My mood fluctuates a lot, something I am trying to work on, so response times will definitely vary but I will get to you eventually, I promise! I save most replies to my drafts but sometimes I will forget one or two so if I forgot you, just shoot me a message! With my moods changing sometimes I won’t reply to certain themes, like angst or nsfw things, but I will get to everything in time like I said.

I’m open to talking to anyone! You can be a canon character in my muse’s canon verse, from another verse, you can be an OC, or just a regular person. Or any of the in between, it doesn’t matter to me. My one and only exception to this is anyone with an animated/cartoon only muse.

I’m an extremely friendly person despite my extreme social anxiety and horrible social skills and I’m always looking to make new friends. Just send me an ask, meme, message or reply to one of my open starters!

Sokovia is not a real place, therefore neither is Sokovian. I know some Pietro rpers use Russian for Sokovian but I personally prefer to use Romanian. I do try and include the translations whenever I do use Romanian because I know translators can mess things up sometimes.

And lastly, HAVE FUN! It’s only fun if everyone is having fun. I’ve said it a few times, but my inbox is always open for questions, comments, concerns or just to talk!

Tags

#pietro answers - ask replies

#pietro rants - random posts

#pietro mod - ooc posts

#pietro reblogs - for reblogging anything

#pietro replies - replying to anyone

#pietro aesthetic - things he likes

#thinking out loud - things he wants

#nsfw - explicit content

#pietros dragi (darlings) - ask and other replies

#headcanons - self explanatory

#open starter - starter prompts that are open to anyone

#the face claim - any posts regarding the celebrity behind the muse

#the sokovian speedster - any posts referencing the muse

#ryker 💙 - any posts involving his puppy Ryker 💙

My ONLY other accounts are:

My main-@walkitoffsoldier 📖💙

Other RP accounts-@the-chaotic-muse-collection 🌈

Joint account with my other halves- @chaos-triplets 💛

His Spofify playlist:

(not made by me)

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff rp #my rules #the rules #my tags #other accounts #marvel roleplay #mcu roleplay #spotify playlist #friendly reminders #Spotify

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astoryinred · 3 years ago

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The Color of the World -- planning the Manila verse Les Mis AU

It's about time I put together all the scattered bits and pieces of the stories that comprise the "Manila Verse", and made a more coherent (even if non-linear) narrative of it. This includes long-published stories such as "Cities We Call Home" and newer additions such as the "Caminar" stories. It might exclude more outlandish tales such as the "Limits of Logic", which is definitely in the realm of horror.

The storyline basically tracks the characters through the years 2007 to 2022, beginning from when Eponine and Cosette enroll in the same university. Of course this is how they meet Marius, Enjolras, the rest of the Amis, Musichetta, and other characters. The story opens during a time of rising social unrest, student disappearances, and massive exposes rocking the government --- and that's only within the first 1-2 years of the storyline. The whole timeline will cover some truly distressing events such as the Maguindanao massacre (considered one of the single most deadliest incidents for journalists), Typhoon Ketsana and Typhoon Haiyan, the resurgence of vigilantism and populism after the 2016 election, and eventually the COVID-19 pandemic accompanied by climate crisis. For the most part, the story will be history-compliant, though I may need to make some divergence in the 2022 timeline for my own sanity.

Everyone has interesting backstories as to why they have French names/extraction, and are running around Metro Manila. It goes back into a long history of expatriates, colonialism, and foreign intervention. What's going to be fun is breaking the bounds of usual modern day AU, and giving the characters different trajectories grounded in the realms of development, labor, and environment. These trajectories and some backstory will be below the cut:

Eponine Thenardier: The oldest child of Marcelo and Rosanna Thenardier, Eponine has seen the most of her family's itinerant lifestyle, and does not have a "home" of her own. She makes Metro Manila her home as she takes up psychology as a scholar and working student (it would have been nursing but she hates blood). Her plan is to finish school, go into HR, get her siblings to live with her, and maybe go overseas. That's until events and curiosity thrust her into the middle of the hellstorm that's the 2007-2008 wave of activism.

Miguel Enjolras: The son of a French student and a college girl from a certain area of the Visayas, Miguel Enjolras actually lost his parents as a young child (a mysterious accident in their hometown, but everyone knows it was retribution). Enjolras was brought up by his maternal grandparents, who sent him to school in Manila. Much to their dismay, he chose to take Developmental Studies, in accordance with his parents' wishes. This puts him right in the network of many things going on in school and the wider world outside, and connects him to the activists of their time.

Cosette dela Cruz: Fantine's only child, Eponine's some time classmate way back in grade school days. Cosette has always suffered from having only "one surname" (read: not born in wedlock). But she's determined to put that behind her as she pursues her dream of being a secondary school teacher. That's easier said than done when dealing with the educational crisis that's just beginning to foment in her time.

Marius Pontmercy: The son of a French-American soldier and a local belle, Marius was also brought up by his grandfather after sending his father away and his mother to a convent. Marius is in the city to take up International Studies with hopes of becoming a diplomat. Although he is good with the languages part, other parts of the course disturb him---in the best way possible --- and have him reconsidering his options towards international law. He ends up having to work his way through law school because of this.

Joshua Combeferre: Combeferre is from a rich family in the south of the Philippines, with some political hold on his mother's side. However he has no liking for politics, and wants nothing more than to be a doctor. Oddly enough this leads him to study Physics as a premed course, but events have him wondering if becoming a prosthetics expert is what he wants, and if public health is much more to his liking.

Alan Courfeyrac: Descended from a Basque family that's gotten muddled up with Gascons, Courfeyrac seems like your typical upper class brat at the university taking up Marketing. His cavalier manner is a veneer for a generous heart and passionate soul that makes him essential to many a plan for like-minded students changing the world

Jean Prouvaire: Also descended from a southern French-Spanish clan, Jehan is also born to privilege but with a lot less drama. This, he jokes, is his reason for writing it all the time. He is a literature major, of course, but one who has other things to do than run around with the school's literary publication. No one is sure how he manages to get published every quarter in multiple folios, both in and out of school.

Andres Feuilly: A native of the slums of Tondo, Feuilly is not sure why he has a French surname, but takes pride in his given name Andres (he shares a name with a hero from the area). Feuilly has managed to work through the alternative learning system and get some vocational credentials. Though barely out of his teens, he is involved with the unionization of his current workplace, a certain factory.

James Bahorel: Bahorel is also from a rich clan down south, with properly traced European roots. He is probably the student with the longest stay at the engineering college, and by this time everyone is sure he's doing it to remain connected to his extensive network. He does eventually finish, and is immediately caught up in massive development work after 2010 that serves to hearten and disillusion him in one go.

Patrick Joly: The son of two renowned Filipino clinicians, Joly has known no other path than to be a physician. He's sure he'll get there once he stops making a patient of himself, and if he can only finish his Biology studies.

Carl Lesgle: Born north of the capital, Lesgle or Bossuet as his friends call him after a mishap in polsci class has left his solid north problems behind. He goes through the whole polsci as a pre-law thing, till realizing that law isn't for him...but journalism is.

Lawrence Grantaire: Grantaire is of an artistic family, and started off taking communication arts. He sometimes wonders if crossing the street to pursue a fine arts or design degree would be a better use of his time, but who needs that when he's got friends like he has? Inevitably, Grantaire finds himself employing his art talents and his comms training in ways he did not expect.

Musichetta Santos: Musichetta was born actually as Valentine Santos, but she hated the name and changed it out. Chetta, as she is fondly called by her friends and lovers, finished high school north of Manila and came up to work while hopefully saving for a part time course of study. As of 2007, she's employed in service crew work, but that's going to change.

Azelma Thenardier: The second of the Thenardier kids, Azelma is a senior in high school, about to graduate, when the story opens. She does not make it to college right away but manages to work odd jobs till she joins Eponine in the city. She eventually uses the open university system to also pursue multimedia studies.

Gabriel "Gavroche" Thenardier: At the time the story opens, Gavroche is finishing up his elementary studies. He just manages to make his way through high school but isn't intent on going into higher education. Eventually he does join his sisters, but it's their friends who prompt him to pursue his own dreams in athletics.

Jean Valjean: The son of sharecroppers, Jean Valjean's whole world in the 80s was the plantation he was supposed to live and die in. Famine and social unrest, plus a horrific massacre that killed several agitators drove him away from the land and into an itinerant life. After being jailed for petty crime and released for good behavior, Jean Valjean fled to Manila to start over. He was successful in the informal economy of Manila...only to get into a heap of trouble when being caught up in a younger generation's affairs.

Fantine dela Cruz: An orphan who grew up on a tenant farm, Fantine was given her name by the storeowner who took her in. In the 1980s, Fantine went to the city to make a better living and hopefully make it abroad. Instead, she ended up with a child and working several jobs just to make ends meet. As of 2007, Fantine has put up a small food business, enough for her and her daughter Cosette to get by while the latter is on scholarship.

Francisco Javert: The disowned child of a French expat and a woman from the city of Bacolod, Javert took up a career in law enforcement and criminology for the ease of social mobility back in the 1980s. As a cadet and young enforcer, he was unfortunately involved in several massacres and killings in the twilight days of the Marcos regime. Javert has since stayed on with the police force and was only too happy to be reassigned to Metro Manila...where he finds himself confronted with someone he swore was dead.

The Thenardiers: Marcelo Thenardier was originally born with no surname, but applied as a 'late registrant' when he needed grade school documentation way back in the 1960s. This was when he was given the name "Thenardier" by a local civil register who was joking around. Marcelo carried this surname, gave it to his bride Rosanna Gonzales, and sired five children under this name (3 living, 2 presumed dead). As of 2007, Marcelo and Rosanna Thenardier were living in a city north of the capital, doing odd cons and schemes. By 2015 they would move into a career of disinformation, much to the discomfiture of their now adult children

#manila verse #les mis AU #the writing process #fic writing #enjonine

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago

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Mistakenly Saving the Villain - Chapter 3

Original Title: 论救错反派的下场

Genres: Drama, Romance, Xianxia, Yaoi

TW for this chapter: Mentions of slave trafficking

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter 3 - Born Without Tears

The red-dressed beauty lightly opened his vermilion lips and blew into the jade flute. The flute sound was full of lingering affection, softly touching his heart, as if he was inviting all listeners to join the red curtain and share the scenery together.

Song Qingshi's mother was an internationally renowned pianist. Because of her influence, music had become Song Qingshi's only hobby outside of school. In the last days of Song Qingshi's life, he had lost all body functions, but his consciousness was extremely clear.

His mother invested heavily in installing top-notch audio equipment in his room to play music everyday. She also asked top musicians in various fields to give him a small concert every day.

Music rescued him from the brink of despair and soothed his heart. During this special time, Song Qingshi was particularly sensitive to the emotions in music. He could hear the player's tenderness in the passionate piano music, and he could also find hidden encouragement in the sad and solemn guzheng music. . .

Now, he heard the familiar struggle and despair in the lingering and affectionate sound of the flute.

Song Qingshi finally raised his head, staring at the brilliant phoenix in a daze. He could no longer look away.

Jin FeiRen found out that Song Qing finally became interested in one of the beauties, and he was overjoyed: "Song Xianzun is interested in this slave? His name is Yue Wuhuan, naturally charming, a rare wood single-spirit root. That means he's much more resistant when tossing him around in bed. The more you rough him up, the more unhinged he comes. Those who have tried it have never failed to boast about it. Do you want to taste him first?"

Song Qingshi's ears were reddened by his explicit recommendation. He quickly turned his eyes away, and said dumbly: "No need."

"Medicine Master Xianzun is clean and does not engage in those activities. If you don't love these things, don't force him, friend." LingBao Xianzun came over, pointing to Yue Wuhuan and exclaimed, "If I remember, was this the best product sold by Xie Que? This immortal world is still the best place for him to raise beautiful people; one is more tasteful than the last. Alas, I have a friend who is his good friend, and all kinds of better goods will be sold to you first."

Jin FeiRen waved his hand and said, "You flatter me. What he really has a good relationship with are thirty hu of mermaid pearls."

LingBao Xianzun laughed: "If all friendships in the world could be created with money, my friend would be surrounded by the most affectionate people in the world. Come, come, let me have three cups with my friend and celebrate the wind and moon together.

Jin FeiRen also laughed, and ordered the young man in his arms to fill a glass of wine and drink with LingBao Xianzun.

LingBao Xianzun had already drunk a lot. He was slightly drunk. He leaned against the table and listened to the flute. He exclaimed: "I remember that when this beauty first entered this place, he was reluctant to accompany guests, even under the control of Acacia Seal. It was very interesting to see, but now he has become so promiscuous, and his flavour has changed. You have great methods, my friend."

Jin FeiRen shook his head: "It's a pity that this beauty doesn't cry no matter how rough you toss him around. He was born without tears, and because of that, some of his appeal has been lost."

Song Qingshi heard the professional question and couldn't help answering: "Being born without tears may be a problem with the lacrimal secretion system."

Jin Fei was dumbfounded for a moment. He appreciated his friendship with Song Qingshi, but he couldn't keep up with his medical obsession. He had to laugh awkwardly and switch off the topic: "Don't look at this beauty's promiscuity deceive you. In the mortal world, he was also a noble and respectable prince. When he was eight years old, Xie Que found that he had excellent aptitude when he was looking for beauties in the mortal world, so he showed his supernatural powers and presented the emperor with a pill for prolonging life. The old emperor was so happy that he happily gave his son to the immortal leader. Xie Que is also an ingenious person. He will seriously accept mortals with spiritual roots as disciples, and coax them to trust him. Then he uses that trust to trick them to sign the spiritual contract of voluntary slavery. He then teaches them superficial techniques, and, when they appear to be at their peak, brands them with the Acacia Seal. He always gets them when the colour is at the best time for picking, and then sells them to the brothels to serve in their rooms.

Although everyone knew he was taking advantage of those loopholes, they all turned a blind eye and eventually accepted this method of slave trafficking."

The Yanshou Pill can only be taken once to extend someone's life to reach 100 years old.

Cultivators can live at least three hundred years so long as they build a good foundation base. They don't need this tasteless kind of thing at all. Most of them are bought for their mortal servants. The price is very cheap, only worth two low-grade spirit stones. Such huge profits have continued to promote the slave trade.

There is an endless stream of cultivators in the trade, but none of them are well-versed as Xie Que.

Song Qingshi was surprised to find in his memory that the original body had seen Xie Que before.

That spring, the original body was studying a new way to create pills behind closed doors. Xie Que came to seek medical treatment with a comatose child. The child was a mortal, about eleven or twelve years old, with a rare pure yang physique and a wood spiritual root. Moreover, when he reached the third rank, his talents were different, and he was even better than some of the wasted descendants of various immortal families. Xie Que said that it was his new apprentice who had recruited more than three years ago. When he went to the mountains to practice, he was bitten by a Devil Mask Snake. Devil Mask Snakes are not extremely poisonous, but they will turn the faces of the poisoned person different colours, just like they were wearing a mask.

The original body typically didn't treat mortals, but Xie cried out in tears, saying that this was his most important apprentice, and he was willing to pay a high price to save him. The original body was in a good mood at the time, and was annoyed by his repeated crying. The Devil Mask Snake poison was also easy to detoxify. He finally relented and ordered a servant to give him two detoxification pills and ordered Xie Que not to cry again.

Xie Que stayed beside the apprentice’s bed and took care of him for three days. The apprentice woke up from a coma, his body no longer in a serious condition, but it took time for the ghost marks on his face to disappear. They stayed in the valley for half a month, and waited until his apprentice's face fully recovered.

During that time, the peach blossoms in the medicine garden bloomed just right, like red brocade all over the sky. When the original body encounters a problem with his alchemy, he often sits in a high place and looks at the peach blossoms and thinks. Every time, the original body would see a small figure under the peach blossom practicing swordsmanship. He practiced in the morning, at noon, and at night, as if it had become a landscape of symbiosis with the peach blossoms.

Mortals trying to cultivate immortality are like a fish leaping over a dragon's gate. The path comes with many difficulties and dangers, and there are few successful ones.

Xie Que was always by his side, with a worried expression on his face. He was either afraid that he would drop his sword or that he would become exhausted. The two quarreled several times. On a whim, the original's body and mind let out a spiritual thought to investigate. He heard the child say to Xie Que: "Master, although mortals are not as good as immortals, my father taught me to reward my diligence, and diligence can make up for my weaknesses. So I have to work harder and never waste time."

"What you said makes sense," Xie Que tried to persuade him with a bitter face. "Your injury has not healed. I'm afraid you might hurt your body. And. . . why do you have to practice sword? Entertaining cultivation, wouldn’t it be better for you to learn some flute, piano or something?"

"Master taught me to use music to cultivate Taoism is very good," the child scratched his head embarrassedly. "But I like swords, I want to be like Mo Yuan Jianzun. Master, rest assured, I know all the songs you taught me. I practiced better than my senior brothers and sisters, and I definitely don't put off practice."

Xie Que had no choice but to say: "I will find you the right ice silk gloves later. You must wear them when you practice swords. You must soak your hands with lotion at night to make your hands soft. This will prevent calluses, so you won't miss the subsequent practice."

The child cheered, excitedly: "Master, you are so kind."

"Don't get hurt," Xie Que lightly knocked on his forehead and complained. "You naughty devil. Your master is terrified. From now on, stay in the sects when you practice, and you are not allowed to go to the back mountains. Take breaks as well to avoid ruining your eyes."

The child accepted all these conditions.

Xie Que leaned over, rubbed his head gently, and sighed: "You don't know how much Master values you. . ."

"I know." The child raised his head and said in a serious voice: "I know that the immortal world looks down on mortals that cultivate immortality, and even looks down on the master who only accepts mortals as disciples. I don't want to shame my master, so I must cultivate a Golden Core to prove to everyone that Master’s vision is right!"

Xie Que looked at his face silently, his eyes distant and difficult to distinguish.

The child pulled Xie Que's sleeves, turned his eyes, and said embarrassedly: "Wuhuan likes Master the most!"

Xie Que stretched out his fingertips, stroked the child's colorful face, looked carefully, and finally stopped reluctantly on the small red mole under his left eye, which was dazzlingly beautiful. He was silent for a long time, showing a very kind smile: "Master also likes you the most."

. . .

#mistakenly saving the villain #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #mistakenly saving the villain translation #song qingshi #yue wuhuan

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ka-za-ri · 4 years ago

Text

Prize Pt 1

Hello! Comin’ at you hot with some commission work I received from a lovely client on Ao3. The request was for breeding centric fic, so if you’re not into that, please avert ye eyes. This is a three part series and will end up being Satan centric, but the first part will be dedicated to the lovely Asmo~

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° Please enjoy!

Chapter Index and Obey Me! Masterlist: here Ao3 Mirror: Here Pairing: Asmodeus x Reader Genre: smut Wordcount: 4,200 ish Tags: Hand job, demon sex Summary: There’s a game afoot and it’s up to you to figure out the rules before you’re taken by surprise by the brothers.

Game

There was an unspoken game afoot, one that only the brothers were in on. You didn’t need to confront them on what they were hiding though, it wasn’t hard to figure out. None of the demons seemed to be well versed in the art of being subtle. At least it meant you were able to catch onto what they were doing much sooner than they anticipated. You would play along with them; and in the end, it would benefit all parties involved. The most important question was how to make them play by your rules without them knowing.

It was a careful dance around their flirtatious advances. It was a precise push and pull that you needed to become adept at if you wanted to win their game. For some, material bribes distracted them enough. A different approach was needed for the others who were more persistent. From Leviathan’s obvious attempts to usurp your time by asking you to raid with him until the wee hours of the morning to Beelzebub constantly asking you if you wanted some of his favorite snacks, they clearly wanted more personal time with you than they let on.

It wasn’t hard to push away Beelzebub. You could claim to have an upset stomach or were too full from your most recent meal to accept his idea to raid the fridge and retreat to his room to enjoy the spoils. Leviathan was similar. Most of the time you got away with complaining about how much homework was put upon you. On the few occasions you did end up joining him for a dungeon run or two, you may or may not have purposefully provoked the enmity of the boss to frustrate him enough to kick you out of his room early.

It was difficult to keep up appearances. Trying to find the balance of spending time with the brothers while also keeping up an innocent and unaware facade was more tiring than you anticipated. You knew that their intentions weren’t bad, but they were up to something that definitely revolved around getting you alone and probably naked. Some of the plans they executed were more obvious than others, and you needed to pick your battles accordingly.

Mammon was particularly difficult to deal with at times. He liked to spend most of his time hanging off you. He had the distinct advantage of being chosen to be your caretaker and guardian thanks to Lucifer. One of the few favors the first born had ever done for Mammon was allowing him to have as much contact as he needed with you. Though he was great with showing you the ropes of Devildom, it was problematic when it came to you wanting your own space. Though his words were brash, you could tell how much he adored being the default person that you had to turn to for help.

Luckily for you, it seemed as though his past made it hard for him to ever have enough time to be properly intimate with you. At any moment, he was liable to completely disappear from the current plane of existence due to his debt with a few powerful witches. You never found out who they were; but secretly, you thanked them for giving you just enough leeway to dodge out of his advances.

The game continued, and the tactics the brothers used became bolder with every attempt you managed to escape. Eventually, you realized that if you didn’t give at some point, the tension between them would only mount and create chaos among them.

Unsurprisingly, it was the Avatar of Lust that took it upon himself to break the ice and blow the game wide open for them all.

“Are you free after classes?” Asmodeus asked over breakfast. There was a brief moment of apprehension that passed through the other brothers when they heard his question. With all eyes on him, Asmodeus played off any nervousness he had by flaunting the attention he was receiving. He carried on with the conversation as if he wasn’t getting barely hidden glares from the others. “I just got the cutest outfit in the mail, and I want to show it to you if you’ve got time. You have a good eye for fashion, right?”

You checked your calendar, mumbling incoherently while you contemplated his offer. The Avatar of Lust truly lived up to his name, being ostentatious with his suggestions and leaving nothing to the imagination. There was no doubting his ulterior motive, but it didn’t stop you from gently trying to push him away. “There’s a test at the end of the week I need to study for,” you said while scrolling through all your tasks for the week.

“Oh please, with how quickly you pick everything up, it’ll be a breeze for you to pass it,” Asmodeus dismissed your excuse with a nonchalant wave of his hand. He could tell you weren’t convinced and quickly tried to strike up a deal with you to keep the advantage he had over his brothers. “How about I help you study after you take a look? What subject is it on?”

You double checked your schedule, realizing you weren’t going to get out of his offer so easily. He was being much more persistent than his brothers had been. To do it so publicly almost felt like he was trying to send a message to the others. After putting off answering as long as you could, scrutinizing your schedule over and over again, you gave in and just went with the first class on your schedule. “Demon Biology.”

Asmodeus’ grinned from ear to ear. “Oh, I have the best notes for that class, and they can be all yours for just coming over and having a looksie. Sounds like a good deal, right?”

Beside you, you could feel Satan physically bristle at his brother’s thinly veiled intentions. Asmodeus didn’t have to say it, but everyone at the table seemed to know what his ultimate plan was. Sure, he was afforded some slack due to his general nature; but he was pushing the unwritten limits that had been set. You weren’t even sure if you should continue to play dumb; but the less they knew about what you surmised about their game, the better. In the end, the choice was yours; and you couldn’t afford to be too conspicuous when it came to how much you had gathered.

“Well, if that’s all I have to do for some notes to pass this test, how can I deny your generous offer?” You smiled sweetly, noticing the tension in the room grow as the agreement was made. The balance of power had been tipped in Asmodeus’ favor within the span of a few minutes.

“Great! I’ll see you after class then. You know where my room is.” He blew you a quick kiss and skipped off to get ready for his day.

You expected a great upheaval between the brothers after such a proposal from Asmodeus. Surprisingly enough, there was minimal fuss over it, further proving to you that there was a plot brewing among them where cooperation on all sides was necessary. The most dissent came from Mammon who was adamant about walking you to your classes and would spend the whole time grumbling about his brother’s audacity to pull such a stunt in front of everyone. Despite all the complaining, he didn’t try to stop you from visiting Asmodeus after your classes as promised.

You expected to be a little nervous, but you didn’t think your hands would be shaking as you knocked tentatively on Asmodeus’ door. The Avatar of Lust warmly welcomed you in, already dressed and waiting for your arrival. A large fluffy robe covered his newest precious outfit, but you could see bits of lace peeking out from under the collar. Oh boy, this will be good. You raised a brow, eyeing what might be hidden. He caught your glance and chuckled, pulling the robe tighter around him before beckoning you into his room.

Even if he tried to be stealthy about it, it was very difficult to ignore how he locked the door behind him while you got comfortable.

“I’m so glad you could make it. I wanted you to be the first person I showed this to,” he pitched his voice a bit lower, adding the slightest hint of a seductive purr at the end of his words. You sat at the edge of his bed and set your things down. Asmodeus was being quite the tease, twirling around and letting just hints of his ensemble show. You caught glimpses of shiny black leather trimmed with plenty of fine black lace. He was being a showoff, and he knew it.

“Well, I might be the only person you get to show this to if you’re going to make me wait three weeks before the great reveal.”

Asmodeus let out a laugh before he finally let the robe drop, showing off the new ensemble in its entire glory. It was quite the sight seeing him decked in all that leather and lace. The outfit clung to him like a second skin, flattering his figure in the best way possible. You had an idea it was going to be risque, but no amount of mental preparation was enough for you to be ready for the sight before you. The accenting jewels he chose to wear in champagne and pink complimented the black if only because they matched his hair and eyes.

“Well, what do you think?”

“I don’t think anyone but you could pull that off, Asmodeus,” you replied truthfully.

He laughed, his eyes glittering with mirth at your compliment. “Oh please, you know you can just call me Asmo. I’d like to think we’re familiar enough for nicknames.” He twirled again, and there was a brief flash of light accompanied by a rustling sound. Once you blinked away the bleariness from the sudden bright light, you saw that he had changed into his true form.

The low back of the dress allowed for his wings to freely move making you wonder if this was a custom piece or if it was something he found on a whim. His wings peeking out past his shoulders only added to the aesthetic appeal of the ensemble as a whole. Asmodeus relished in the attention you gave him, posing and giving you his best angles. “It looks so much better like this, right?”

You nodded dumbly. There was no denying the Avatar of Lust was stunning, even in his human form. However, seeing him in his full glory, his horns and wings on full display, only seemed to elevate his look to a whole different level. His hand traveled down his abdomen, tracing the intricate lacework. He could tell your gaze was following his fingers; and he looked over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. “I take it as you like what you see?”

“It’s hard not to like something so… aesthetically pleasing,” you tried to sound nonchalant, but there was a definite waver in your voice. You knew his charms were useless against you. That had been established when you first met. However, the heated gazes he gave you and the lowered pitch of his voice was awakening things in you that you had tried to avoid thinking about since your arrival at Devildom.

You tried to look anywhere around you but at Asmo, the outfit he had on really was doing things to your libido you hadn’t expected. Furtively glancing over to the clock on the dresser, you noticed just how long you had been there and decided a change of subject was in order. If you could get out of this, you would have dodged yet another attempt from one of them. “Oh, so about those notes...” you started.

“Oh, yes. I was wondering when you would ask me,” Asmodeus giggled, a playful smirk spread across his delicate features as he continued to prance around his room. Eventually he stopped teasing you and pulled out a notebook to hand to you. While you flipped through, he lounged in bed next to you, the smirk never quite leaving his face.

“Wait. Uh… are you sure this is the right book?”

“Oh of course, I wouldn’t dream of giving you the wrong one.”

“Asmo, the pages are blank.”

“Oh, I know,” he giggled, his eyes crinkling up with mirth as you stared at him in confusion. He coyly lifted the skirt to his outfit to reveal he hadn’t bothered to wear any undergarments. “It’s better if you got some hands-on experience, right? The upcoming test is on anatomy after all,” he gave you a sly wink and giggled.

You couldn’t avert your eyes fast enough before getting an eyeful of what Asmo was packing as a demon. Even if you covered your eyes, you couldn’t avoid hearing him giggle gleefully at your reaction as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Aww come on now, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. This is natural,” he cooed, petting your hair softly.

He guided your hand to feel him, letting you feel every curve and ridge of his dick. You didn’t want to look. It was too awkward for you to do so; but with a little coaxing, you eventually cracked open your eyes to take in just what you were feeling. It was a little odd to admit it, but his cock was pretty. Slim and tapered, your hand could easily wrap itself around his length. With a little more vocal encouragement, your fingers did eventually find their way round his cock. You gave him an experimental little pump partially to feel how his skin shifted and felt under your hand and partially to see his reaction. He let out a soft mewl of appreciation at the friction and rolled his hips up to meet your hand. “Feel free to ah…take as many notes as you’d like.”

His eyes were lidded, the irises blown out and darkening his light colored eyes. It only added to the sensuality of the moment as he laid next to you, letting you explore every inch of him for the sake of ‘studying.’ You could hardly believe it was happening yourself. His hand held onto your wrist firmly and continued to guide your hand to stroke him at a slow, lazy pace.

As your attention was occupied with what was in between his legs, he pulled you in with his free hand to press soft kisses at the corner of your mouth. They were quick, soft and a little hesitant at first; but when you didn’t immediately pull away from him, he became bolder, gliding his lips over your own and nipping at your lower lip, hoping to gain access to go deeper. With your mind short circuiting from all the sensations you were experiencing all at once, you gasped for breath; and that was all the permission he needed to deepen the kiss. His tongue swiped over your lips just once before delving into your mouth.

Kisses with the Avatar of Lust were unlike any you experienced before. Perhaps it was the centuries of practice he had with other partners, or perhaps it was his innate charm as the Avatar of Lust that made his kisses feel like a full body experience. You didn’t even feel embarrassed about feeling him up any longer as his kisses were what ultimately made you feel overwhelmed. The scent of new leather laced through the smell of his citrusy cologne and made for an absolutely intoxicating combination.

His hips jerked into your hand as he really got into it with you, the ridged texture under your fingers was firm yet pliant at the same time. His soft whimpers in your ears only emboldened you to explore more of his length. You traced the tapered tip carefully, watching his reactions. It seemed to be a rather sensitive spot considering he stopped kissing you just to let out a lewd moan and grind his length into your hand. His kisses trailed away from your lips to your jaw and to your ear where he licked and nipped right at your pulse point, enjoying the salt of your sweat as the room was quickly becoming warm.

Asmo let out soft whimpers almost akin to a coo every time you stroked him just right. His vocal appreciation egged you on, allowing you to stroke him with more confidence once you figured out just what he liked. He simply looked ravishing in that dress; and you needed to make sure you properly thanked him for not only the extensive notes he was giving you, but also the lovely little show as well.

Eventually, he pulled away from you if only to roll you onto your back and give your body as much attention as your hand had given him. Asmo gently put your arms at your side, murmured reassurances that he would take care of you while he slowly undid every layer of your uniform. If there was one thing he excelled at, it was making you anticipate his next move. He was slow and methodical, admiring every inch of skin he revealed; and he always had a compliment at the ready to make you blush even more under his watchful gaze.

“Beautiful. Just beautiful. Every bit of you,” he murmured before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking on it.

You wailed, feeling his tongue lave at your sensitive skin. In fear of the others hearing your lewd exchange with Asmodeus, you quickly clasped your hands over your mouth to muffle your noises. He looked up at you from his place at your chest and laughed softly, putting your hands back at your sides. “No, no. Please be as loud as you wish. I want everyone to know exactly what’s going on here.”

You bit your lip, not sure if you could follow his demands; but the heat simmering in his eyes convinced you to comply. Once he was sure your hands would remain at your side, he went right back to what had been doing, redoubling his efforts on your nipple and making you whimper in need from his ministrations. He loved hearing every one of the sounds that came from your lips, and he was sure the others could hear just what he could do to you on the other side of his door. After the stunt he pulled at the table earlier that day, there was no way his brothers wouldn’t eavesdrop.

You surprisingly still had your panties on, but Asmodeus made quick work of them, peeling them off of you once he was sure your body was willing to accept him. Seeing you completely bare beneath him was absolutely breathtaking. He stared for a moment in awe, making you feel entirely too self conscious; and you curled up a bit to shy away from his heated gaze. “No,” he stated firmly, once again placing your arms at your side. “I want to see all of you.”

“Okay, you’ve seen it now, how about evening the playing field? You’ve got a lot more on than I do.”

“Oh, I do. How rude of me. Let me fix that.”

You felt his weight leave the bed momentarily. Looking up at where he went, you realized he had given you front row seats to a most sensual strip tease.

The only real garment he wore was that leather and lace dress. However, he somehow made taking it off feel like an eternity. From showing off his assets whenever he bent over to the slow pull of the zipper at the side of the dress, you felt like every second he wasn’t spending on top of you was another second that made your arousal reach the unbearable breaking point.

“Asmo, please…” you whined, “Stop teasing…this isn’t fair.”

He liked it when you were whiny. The way you pitched your voice in that desperate whimper broke the last bit of control he had. Whatever other teasing he had planned was thrown out the window in favor of shucking the dress right off so he could settle himself between your legs. His cock pressed at your soaking entrance. “You say please so prettily, I can’t resist.”

He pushed into you, and your hands almost flew to your mouth again to cover the lewd moan that came from your lips. He stretched you just right, fitting into your warm heat as if he was meant to be there. Your moan faded into a satisfied sigh as you felt him fill you. He smiled softly, memorizing the way your eyelids fluttered and the blissful look on your face when he bottomed out inside of you. “That’s a good look,” he purred, giving you a moment to adjust to his cock.

The time he gave you really wasn’t needed, he filled you but didn’t stretch you out in a way that made it painful. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck and pulled him in for a hot kiss, your hips flexing as a wordless command for him to move.

He complied eagerly, moaning into your kisses and starting a pace that wasn’t unlike the one he guided your hand into earlier. It let you feel every ridge and bump of his cock slide in and out of you. He knew your first experience with a demon would be unlike any other coupling you had before. He wanted to make it special; and with all his experience as the Avatar of Lust, he sure was able to make you see stars and feel like you were drowning in pleasure.

It was an entirely new type of euphoria you were feeling, and you were quickly beginning to crave more of it. Your legs wrapped around his hips, and you desperately met every one of his slow thrusts in an attempt to get him to give you more. He quickly got the message and picked up the pace once he was confident you were well accustomed to his unique shape.

The change in speed and intensity was just what you needed to satiate your desires. He knew exactly what his cock could do, and he took advantage of it as he fucked you in earnest. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoed off his walls, your breathy moans mingled with his grunts of pleasure as you both lost yourselves in the throes of ecstasy while chasing your release.

He could make you see stars and the ends of the universe with his cock and it wasn’t long before the building pressure in your abdomen of your oncoming orgasm was reaching its breaking point. You called for him, encouraging him with your jilted moans every time he buried himself inside of you. His skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat from the exertion which only seemed to add to your overwhelming arousal.

“Oh fuck,” you choked back a sob as your orgasm washed over you like a wave. Intense and all consuming, your body convulsed as you reached your peak long before he was ready for his own release.

“You’re even more beautiful when you cum,” he panted, starry eyed and amazed at how tightly your inner walls were hugging his cock. “Makes me wish I was rutting right now so I could breed you over and over again. We would make the cutest babies.”

The primal, almost feral way his words sounded only made your walls clench around him even more. For as sensitive as they were, they reacted to him and craved more. He wasn’t done yet, and it seemed like he would continue until he reached his own blissful peak within you.

You weren’t able to keep up with the sensations of his cock still sliding in and out of your swollen walls. Everything became a blur of lust and desire. Your throat felt hoarse from screaming so much; you didn’t want anymore despite what your trembling body craved.

Eventually you could feel a change in Asmodeus’ pace as the even thrusts became erratic, and the volume of his moans matched the pitch of your screams. He gratefully unloaded himself, spilling his seed into you in hot spurts. Your name mixed with a variety of curses in a language you could only imagine was demonic in nature. He groaned, burrowing his head in the crook of your neck as he rode out his climax.

As soon as the brunt of his orgasm was over, he was kissing you deeply, wordlessly thanking you for the intimate moment the two of you had just shared. There was a fair bit of passion in his kisses though the needy heat from before had dissipated now that both of you had found the release you craved. He pulled away with a content sigh, rolling to your side and pulling out of you.

“So, do you think you got some good notes in?” he asked while he gazed lovingly into your eyes, brushing away a stray strand of hair away from your face. “Or do you need some more studying?”

You giggled, your skin still sensitive from such an intense session. “I think I’ll be able to pass with flying colors,” you reassured, rolling closer to him to get some much needed post coital cuddles.

#Obey me! Smut #Obey Me! Fanfic #Obey me! Asmodeus #Shall we date Asmodeus #My writing #i'm trash you're trash we're all trash #Commission work

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