#tenshi talk

[otomes-world]

what.

Morganatic Idol: Termination of Service Notice

07.11.2024

[Full notice below the cut.]

We sincerely thank you for your love and support towards "Morganatic Idol".

This is an important announcement regarding the operations of this service.

We have made the decision to terminate the game's service on the 15th of January 2025, Wednesday; and discontinue downloads from the store on the 16th of April 2025, Wednesday. We extend our most sincere gratitude to all customers who have supported the service.

■ Schedule For Termination of Service

The upcoming schedule, which includes the termination of service and issuing of refunds for paid diamonds, is as follows.

• 16th of December 2024 (16:00 JST) — End of sale for paid diamonds.

• 15th of January 2025 (16:00 JST) — Termination of service.

• 16th of January 2025 (16:00 JST) to 16th of April (16:00 JST) — Refund period for paid diamonds.

• 16th of April 2025 (16:00 JST) — Discontinuation of store downloads i.e. AppStore, Play Store etc.

※ Please be informed that you will still be able to make purchases with diamonds and coins after the end of paid diamond sales.

※ After the termination of service, the game will no longer be playable and diamonds cannot be used.

※ Only inquiries related to refunds will be handled.

■ Future Event Updates

The final events, gacha, and missions will be "Christmas Gacha Part 1" and "Christmas Gacha Part 2", scheduled to start on the 21st of November. Afterwards, there will be no new or returning events, gacha, or missions.

※ Login bonuses will continue to be issued until the service is terminated.

Thank you once again for your support. We hope you continue to enjoy +ONE by Ikemen Series and "Morganatic Idol".

[otomes-world]

From time to time I see notifications with likes of my not quite au with rsa!mobs. Also considering that I liked Neigh from the very beginning and wrote fics about him, one idea came up. I will regret it very much, very much, but..

As if, now my old-new impression of the characters is like this.

Here they are from left to right:

Aro, - we'll leave the names as they were originally intended, in order to honor of the original author - the quietest and most suspicious of the three. You're walking down the street, there he is. You went into the store to buy some groceries, he's standing in front of the checkout. You went jogging in the woods, and there he is, too.

His image plays into his hands as many times as it takes. At some point, you notice him in the distance or, on the contrary, very close, it doesn't matter, and you begin to consider him part of the background. Who are you to bother him, right?

A huge miscalculation on your part. Because when he actually approaches you to talk for the first time - for any reason - you won't suspect anything strange. Hell, you've known each other for so long. Even if for most of this "time" he simply existed. He's become so integral to your life that it's strange to go shopping without seeing at least the top of his head.

His constant sleepiness completes the picture. You can't help but worry about him, because he could be anywhere at any time. Not everyone around you is as kind or understanding as you.

He's not like all the other boys around you. He doesn't get into fights, he's not rude - he rarely speaks, to be honest - he's a model child and student. If there was an award called "Any Teacher's Dream", he would be in nominating hall as well.

He always listens, no matter what nonsense or stupidity you ask. You were talking about the lifestyle of snowy owls, so why did you stop? Aro doesn't mind if you lecture him about these birds, even if it started an hour ago and it's past midnight now.

As soon as he confesses, you… what are you? It's like he's become such permanent part of your life that you have been dating for a long time. You call him for help. You share with him very first breaking news. You ask him for advice. At some point, you have to wonder if you even had any friends before Aro came along.

Silver or Quicksilver, he is that very child who grew up on fairy tales about brave knights who slaying dragons and rescuing princesses. The very one who will come to sing you a serenade under your window and will dodge flying pillows of awakened ghosts along the way.

The one who will be watching you from the far end of the street, on the opposite side, and when you give in and come over to clear things up, he will drop to one knee and propose marriage right then and there. Ignoring your completely unimpressed gaze, he will look at you with his glowing, childlike eyes.

Getting rid of him is some miracle, no doubt, but you return to the dorm, and there is a pair of white doves with a wreath waiting by the door. Where did he even find them? Are there any companies that provide services of specially trained birds that deliver boxes? What do you mean, there is a whole dovecote of them in the RSA? What do you mean, you will receive flowers and gifts regardless of whether you want them or not?

As soon as you give up on trying to appeal to his working brain cells - you have already convinced yourself that he does not have any - he will jump up and start apologizing for his behavior, simultaneously adding compliments to you in his speech. At some point, you come to terms with the fact that the whole street is watching the unfolding scene. No, you are not filming a teen drama. No, you are seeing him for the first time in your life. No, he is not crazy… although, perhaps, people are right about that.

Rubbing the bridge of your nose, you slowly resigned yourself to the idea of ​​turning your dorm into a flower shop. The other students began to run away when they saw you in the hallway, as you handed out flowers to everyone you met. When you ran out of people, you went around for a second round. Then a third...

Good luck trying to explain to this RSA prince, one of the RSA princes, that things don't work like that. As you left with another bouquet, you mentally figured out who you could give it to.

Raven. A fine, well-mannered young man. He never raises his voice, always lends a helping hand to those in need. Wait, why does he have such a sly, suspicious look? If you ask him directly, he will put on an innocent expression and ask in response, “Aren't you imagining things?”

No, you're not. You are more than sure that you have seen the way he looks at RSA-Silver when he thinks that no one is watching. Your compass, magnetized by all the overblots and other NRC students, works like a clock for such things. You will not let his pretty face fool you.

Exactly, but now you are sitting in a cafe and discussing… what were you discussing?.. He has a mysterious ability to bring arguments in the most neglected cases and convince you to do what you initially did not want. After two minutes of conversation, you no longer remembered your complaints about him, as if they had not existed in the first place. All problematic issues are listened to and turn into such trifles that it is worth considering whether you were dissatisfied with something.

He is attentive, always noticing the smallest changes and reading your mood like an open book. You were thirsty, so he hands you a bottle of water. You were thinking about something sweet, what a coincidence, he has some of your favorite candies in his pocket. You seemed to want to eat a certain cuisine, and during lunch he asks if you would like to visit a cafe where it is served.

At some point, everyone starts considering you a couple long before you hear him confess. It's exactly as you wanted it, as well as it completes the picture perfectly. You tried to refuse, but the same thing happens. He turns all your negatives about the relationship into reasons why you should say yes. This doesn't obligate you to anything. You are mature understanding individuals who are taking closer look at each other. Dating someone doesn't mean that you have to spend your whole life together.

However, you get the idea that it will be impossible to break up with him.

[2isted-chocol8-art]

If you try to get near them they WILL kill you. No hesitation.

-> More Aod Art!

[tciddaemina]

Who is your favorite poor little meow meow? Best little wet rat of a man whose life has been nothing but a series of increasingly worse Ls?

Shang Qinghua from SVSSS. He's the most pathetic, damp little man. You have never seen a person who embodies the kobold skill 'grovel, cower, and beg' more People look at him and think that he has all the charm and competence of a dripping, soggy rat - he looks at himself and thinks he has all the charm and competence of a dripping, soggy rat. Which is amazing, because by all accounts he's actually amazingly competent and is also (arguably) a very talented writer. He has so many self esteem issues, and is so fucked up, and he is so, so fun to write. You can't be an author and not empathize at least a little with Shang Qinghua - man, you can't be a person growing up and living in a complicated world and not empathize at least a little with Shang Qinghua. Struggles with his family, difficult financial situation, managing to somehow achieve success with his writing enough to actually use serialization to support himself, but only by such a thin margin that he barely scrapes by, forced to compromise his art more and more just to manage to keep a roof over his head-

And then to get reborn in the world he created, but as a shitty hated side character who's fate is to be cowardly and pathetic and get murdered because he betrayed both his sect and the demon master he was serving. Working for years, decades, with almost no recognition despite the frankly crucial work he and his peak do for the sect, all the while with a sword hanging over his head and a timer slowly ticking down until the day where he'd be forced to do hideous evil or die-

Idk. I just think he's interesting.

[otomes-world]

I was thinking... this could be a prompts for mini drabbles... I'll think about it.

List of character flaws that can be prominent in villains

Rebellion: Strong opposition to authority figures and societal norms.

Manipulativeness: Tendency to exploit others for personal gain.

Cruelty: Enjoyment or indifference to causing suffering in others.

Narcissism: Excessive self-love and lack of empathy for others.

Arrogance: Overestimation of one's own abilities and importance.

Impulsiveness: Acting without considering consequences or long-term effects.

Deceitfulness: Habitual lying and deception to achieve goals.

Entitlement: Belief that one is inherently deserving of special treatment or privileges.

Distrust: Difficulty trusting others, often stemming from past betrayals or trauma.

Insecurity: Deep-seated feelings of inadequacy or worthlessness, leading to defensive or aggressive behavior.

Jealousy: Resentment towards others' successes or possessions.

Vengefulness: Desire for revenge against perceived wrongs or slights.

Machiavellianism: Willingness to manipulate and exploit others for personal gain.

Sadism: Deriving pleasure from inflicting pain or suffering on others.

Paranoia: Irrational suspicion and distrust of others' intentions.

Egocentrism: Difficulty seeing beyond one's own perspective and needs.

Addiction: Dependency on substances or behaviors that impair judgment and control.

Rage: Explosive outbursts of anger or violence.

Perfectionism: Setting unattainably high standards for oneself and others, leading to frustration and resentment.

Hubris: Excessive pride or self-confidence, often leading to downfall.

Sociopathy: Lack of empathy or remorse for one's actions, often accompanied by manipulative behavior.

Psychopathy: Antisocial behavior, lack of empathy, and disregard for social norms and moral standards.

Obsession: Fixation on a particular person, goal, or idea to the detriment of everything else.

Fearfulness: Paralyzing fear or anxiety that drives destructive behavior.

Isolation: Withdrawal from social interactions and relationships, leading to further detachment and hostility.

Codependency: Unhealthy reliance on others for validation and self-worth, often resulting in manipulative or controlling behavior.

Nihilism: Belief in the meaninglessness of existence, leading to a disregard for moral and ethical considerations.

Megalomania: Delusions of grandeur and a desire for unlimited power and control.

Impatience: Frustration with delays or obstacles, leading to rash decisions and reckless actions.

Self-destructiveness: Subconsciously sabotaging one's own success or well-being due to deep-seated issues or trauma.

[deus-ex-mona]

sena 🤝 yujiro

older siblings (who see themselves as unreliable) who look out for and love their (relatively aloof) younger siblings unconditionally

[project-sekai-facts]

yo, do ya have any favourite lyrics and/or line distributions? akito getting multiple lines about dogs is neato

Hoshizora no Melody has my favorite lyrics in the game it's not even a tough choice. I love how well every character's arc is conveyed through only a few lines it's so good. Emu could never and would never leave PXL (her grandad) behind, and WxS was able to finally change things for her and help her protect it. Rui was outcast his whole life and he came to accept it as something that would never change - it wasn't until WxS (Tsukasa) reached out to him and let him be passionate about his dreams without judging him that he was finally able to turn things around. Tsukasa throws his all into theatre (making people happy) and it's something that is so deeply ingrained as a part of himself, but WxS let him actually pave the way to make his dream a reality. Nene was too shy to face anyone and couldn't get over the things in her way (her past failures), but she was able to rediscover her passion for singing and is able to sing for everyone once again.

The prechorus parts too, Emu and Tsukasa sing the part about realising that the world can make people smile because both of their dreams are to make people smile. Emu and Rui singing about the world giving life back to things they'd given up because Rui gave up on the thought of belonging and Emu was going to have to give up the Wonder Stage. Rui getting the part about celebrating the colors of the world because his dream is to create shows that anyone can enjoy regardless of identity.

As you said I think Akito getting lines about dogs is a nice little bit of recurring irony. I particularly like this example from Gekokujo that conveys his unwavering determination and drive even when he's faced with forces pushing against him really nicely. Also just Gekokujo's lyrics as a whole I think reflect the event so well.

N25 probably has the best lyric game like there's so many good examples from their songs. Particular favorites would have to be Engeki for summarising basically Mafuyu's entire life in such a gut-punching way, and Tricologe for a similar reason for Hoshizora in that it just does such a good job of representing every character.

IDSMILE/lower parallels my beloved <3

Gunjou Sanka is another favorite of mine. If you couldn't tell by now I love stuff that either tells a story or describes a character. Or both. All of Gunjou Sanka is so good and really packs a punch with the emotions but I really like the first verse and prechorus here where it describes the basics of each main story in just one or two lines each. I especially love the Leo/need segment about being able to believe in wanting to stay together since they've moved on from their pasts and are reuinted now.

And how could I forget Mr. Showtime. This one has such clever lyrics and I love the use of parentheses to add secondary meanings to certain parts. The whole song is perfection but I'm particularly fond of this section here, specifically the last line because it understands Tsukasa so much better than like half the fandom does. Theatre is something that Tsukasa genuinely dedicates everything to, in some ways (every way) it is his life. Phoenix is a great example to demonstrate that because it highlights just how much it means to him and how he's willing to put it above everything else, including his own wellbeing, to try and overcome the obstacles he faces. At the end of the day though, even if it's tough and can feel like it's taking too long or isn't worth it, the roadblocks he doesn't anticipate are the ones that help him improve most and get closer to his dream than anything else.

also just this one lyric from Showtime Ruler I love character development. Karasuyasabou actually says that's his favorite in the song, and he talked quite a lot about the lyrics for the rest of the song in his corocoro interview. I'd suggest giving it a read because it's pretty interesting what he says about how he wrote it.

this is getting a bit long so i'll stop here haha

[otomes-world]

Some things never change

no trigger warnings except yandere themes, 2,7k words and as we all love barely edited text

Probably, running away from home wasn't the smartest decision in life. In any case. The reason for such act depended on the questioner. If it was one of the friendly, elderly aunts, then you modestly told them about the desire to achieve recognition for the family. For younger acquaintances, the version acquired more dreamy shades in the form of recognition for yourself. For someone less meticulous, the desire to see the world was enough.

In the end you couldn't change the past, however, you were not eager to return home and beg for forgiveness, as most casual people painted a picture for themselves. Therefore, you always kept silent about the interesting beginning of the journey, preferring to tell stories of a later period. About how, by pure chance, you met a traveling troupe of artists and joined them. Did you know how to sing, dance, play a role? At an average level, yes.

Was it hard at first? Definitely.

Nevertheless, the stubborn decision to live your own life, leaving all the unpleasantness behind, won out and you, convincing and sometimes negotiating with yourself, swallowed the complaints. The meaningful glances from the other performers were safely ignored. They could think whatever they wanted, as long as they didn’t start leaving comments and sticking their noses into things that weren’t their business. Sounded like passive aggression? Touché.

Be that as it may, after a couple of months of involuntary life together and shared stories, the distance between you decreased to comfortable evening conversations and jokes in a whisper.

Has a small troupe of the same lost souls as you become a family in the full sense of the word? You always answered something vague and tried to change topic to something else. If others noticed, they preferred to tactfully remain silent and intercept the conversation. Everyone had their own reason for wandering, which meant that you were in for a maximum of understanding and a minimum of interference.

At least, these were the thoughts that always visited you at the beginning of autumn. To be more precise, when warm weather started dropping hints of cold wind and a rare drizzle of rain. No, you had no complaints about the season itself, only about your own melancholic mood, which was becoming part of everyday life. For performer, the beginning of autumn marked the end of the working season. Of course, there were occasions when you were invited to brighten up the evening of this or that eccentric nobleman, but they were incredibly rare. If you managed to count them on the fingers of one hand, it was considered lucky.

Winter served as a break for most. For agriculture, for trade, for travel… for you. In winter, finding something to do, a job, became more difficult. It was harder to distract yourself. There were no nights whose sky was painted with hundreds of lights. Noisy companies of people, in the flow of which it was so easy to forget and let yourself be led anywhere.

Inazuma - the nation of eternity, was supposed to be the last major stop this year. To be honest, even as a child you listened with apprehension to stories about this country. About visions. However, the gods did not consider you worthy of their gift. The bitterness of disappointment was felt as an unpleasant aftertaste even at a conscious age. Now you were watching life and the changing emotions on the faces of the townspeople from the window of a small ryokan's room with detachment. An unfinished mask for the next outfit rested on your lap.

It seemed that all the nightmares were left behind, it seemed that they were not afraid of the imminent onset of cold weather. The thoughts of both old and young were occupied only with the upcoming farewell to summer - you preferred to tactfully remain silent about the fact that it was already over.

The needle fell out of your hands with a barely audible ringing sound, falling to the floor. Looking down at your hands, you immediately clenched and unclenched them several times, trying to stop the trembling. This was clearly not the first and not the last winter in your life. Why doesn't the feeling of anxiety leave you? So noticeable that if the needle hadn't fallen out, you could have cut the air with it. Your "friends" wrote it all off as autumn dismals and for a moment you really wanted to sincerely believe their words.

It all started with crossing the border, as if the velvety purple skies were warning you about something in advance, carefully forgetting to specify what exactly. You decided that it was all because of the noticeable change in the weather. After the warm Sumeru, Inazuma seemed cold and unfriendly.

The meeting with Commissioner Yashiro took even the most experienced and seasoned performer, your unofficial leader, by surprise. You remembered how someone briefly mentioned a family whose responsibilities included organizing festivals. However, discussing and obtaining permission from the leader still shook you to the depths of your soul.

Despite the obligatory nature of some moments brought by the new life, you still did not like meeting with nobles, especially tete-a-tete. They reminded you of a time you wanted to leave behind. Memories you wanted to rewrite, erase, bury under a pile of new ones and never think about again. Whether it was a defensive reaction or a personal dislike, no one asked. As long as you performed without causing problems, no one was going to pry into your soul.

Tremble in your hands became stronger, as well as your heart beat faster in your chest.

The Kamisato family estate was amazing, causing admiring whispers from the troupe and anxiety in you. The ceilings were too high, reminding you of a beautiful cage, one of which you had so carefully left. You tried to avoid such talent display in front of the nobles: you wanted to show off as little as possible. Even though you understood in your mind that the probability of meeting a familiar face in a foreign country was extremely small, you could never calm your paranoia.

Hope died last, so you prayed that there would be some urgent matter, any really, that did not require delay and a trusted person would conduct the meeting. However, fate rarely took into account someone's wishes, since the quiet voices and greetings of the servants in the corridor became a sufficiently clear sign.

In such grand mansions, your body acted on its own, straightening your back and wiping all emotion from your face, leaving a neutral smile. Despite all your attempts to imitate your new acquaintances, some habits seemed to be engraved on your bones. Whether it was luck or not, was another question. The singer, who for some reason was treating you like a younger relative, winked to you encouragingly, while your insides turned cold.

You didn’t like the look of the Commissioner. He was pleasant, behaved appropriately, flashing his knowledge of the fine arts, without putting himself in an bad light. Looking at the man from under your lowered eyelashes, for a second you felt a pang of envy. About what your life could have been if you had followed the beaten path, instead of jumping off a cliff with the unknown at its very bottom. Suppressing a moment of weakness, you smiled charmingly when the conversation turned to you, playing the role of a silly person who was passionate about arts.

You stood up, forcing yourself to take deep breaths, ignoring the darkening in your eyes. As soon as your gaze cleared, you tiredly sank down again, reaching for the fallen mask, to which you had been sewing feathers a few minutes ago. The quick and sharp pain made you pull your hand back in panic, while the voice of reason reminded you of the needle that had fallen. Shaking your head a couple of times, as if it could throw out unpleasant emotions and restore your calm, you grabbed the mask in one movement and casually threw it on the bed, or as it was called here a futon. The needle and a bag of colored feathers were carefully put away in the nightstand.

For some incomprehensible, twisted reason, you were the one deciding the organizational issues. To be more precise, this was the wish expressed by the Commissioner, and the kind "head" of the troupe did not object. Words about a pleasant impression, an interesting, new look at the performances and compliments from the servants of the estate - like a porcelain doll - were drowned in the general monotonous noise, while the body still refused to move.

The need to end everything as quickly as possible became sufficient motivation. Visit the estate, solve a few pressing issues and return to your room, lock yourself in and hide from the world until the moment when you would have to go out again. Repeating this phrase like a mantra, you sat in the familiar interior and tried to fight the desire to jump out of the window.

"Are you okay?" A sympathetic voice asks, for a second you even believed in sincerity which it hold.

"Yes, Monsieur Kamisato," the answer bursts out on its own, and then, as if realizing your mistake, you lowered your head in a bow. "I'm sorry, I meant Kamisato-sama."

Some habits are unchangeable.

The man just laughed softly, "You may address me as you prefer. I suppose the language barrier is sometimes difficult to overcome?"

"Thank you, I hope my Fontaine's accent does not offend you. I try to fill in the gaps in the cultural peculiarities of the languages ​​of different corners of Teyvat." You answered, reading between the lines of his question.

You tried to ignore the man as much as etiquette allowed, whose eyes narrowed in satisfaction, like a cat, that had been watching a canary for a long time. Reaching for the papers on which the rough plan of the event was sketched, you were about to change the topic, but he was beat you to it.

"I hope that your stay in Inazuma is going smoothly and nothing has marred the first impression." Slightly tilting your head to the side, you looked at the nobleman, waiting for him to continue. "I assume you know about Tri-Commisions, Yashiro, let me clarify."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tried to answer as close to textbook as possible, "It's one of the organizations in Inazuma. They, you, are in charge of managing shrines, festivals, and cultural events."

"With such a well-known history, it's rather surprising that we don't have a permanent troupe of performers. Perhaps we should entertain the idea." The softness in his voice, the pleasant, inviting atmosphere, and the innocently asked question made you genuinely disgusted.

"If you think so," perhaps not the best answer, but short enough not to ruin the conversation or make yourself seem rude. You didn't have to be a prophet to not guess what the other side was hinting at. "Would you allow me to ask your opinion on the event's plan?"

As if he had already achieved his goal, the man kindly allowed the conversation to return back to work, which you were grateful for.

You couldn't flash much experience in small talk. Each meeting with the Commissioner made you remember everything that they had so diligently tried to hammer into you, to mold the version that should correspond to the norms.

He had it all. Soft pressure, skill of confidently inclining the dialogue in a favorable direction. Man never showed open aggression, did not give you anything that you could latch on to. Smoothly and gracefully dropped small hints on where he could press if you decided to act differently from the path he had already planned.

"Thank you, I will take your wishes into account and make the necessary changes," politely ending the meeting, you slowly began to collect the papers you had brought and the sheet of notes.

"Have you ever thought about settling down?" The question catches you off guard, the papers almost falling out of your hands, scattering across the table and the floor. Instead, a smile appears on your face and your body moves on its own again.

"You are very kind. Will you allow me to pass on your generous offer to hire our troupe to the others? I do not have the authority to make such a decision on my own."

"Ah, yes, of course," his eyes narrow slightly again, letting you know that trying to play on the meaning of his words would not work. "Your unity is admirable," the implied 'considering your type of work' hangs in the air.

"I will pass on your praise, Kamisato-sama," another bow. "Please, excuse me."

To your great happiness, he made no attempt to stop you. He let you reach the shoji, push it aside, but just before you could close it, he added, "I hope you'll consider the offer personally."

The sound of the door closing ringed louder in your ears than it actually was.

Hope, such a fragile, unreliable thing, had let you down more often than anyone else in your life. Each time, burning and burying another piece of yourself, you thought about home. If a place from the past could be called like that. About too many expectations and too few opportunities for self-realization. About a ready-made life plan, presented on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out.

Something wet falls into your palm. The unexpected screams of passersby, escaping from the rain, were barely discernible through the veil of white noise. Focusing your gaze on the window frame of the same empty room in the ryokan, you touched your own face with your other hand.

It was dry.

You wiped your palm on the fabric of your clothes and held back a sigh. Although the Commissioner had not specified a deadline for making a decision, your intuition told you that the day of the festival was the maximum you could hope for.

The troupe took the news ambiguously. Some liked the prospect of a permanent job. Some lived for travel.

Some were… you. A rabbit trying to outrun the clock. Or a bud that, instead of falling and brightly flaring up in the flames of the stove, fell off with the wind. Flower that didn't want to become part of someone's herbarium and was now soaking in a puddle, hoping to dissolve in it and disappear as if it had never existed. No one looked at their feet, hurrying about their business in the hustle and bustle of days.

Almost no one.

A beviolent person stopped and carefully unfolded his own album. You just had to reach out. The voice of a familiar singer breaks through the noise of the rain, like the thunder of Her Excellency. Would you be able to say "Yes" once and keep a right to say "No"? Unfortunately, the strength to answer this question was becoming less and less. As was the time until the event.

The trees had already managed to change into different shades of colors, dappled with orange, red and even purple leaves, attracting the gaze of everyone who was ready to look. Despite the feeling of cold, the sun was still warming the earth, giving the last days of trancility. Could the electro Archon take pity and bless her people, waiting for the festivities with them?

"Opportunities to bask in the sunlight like this are few and far between."

"That's how," hearing a voice right next to your ear, you didn't even take your eyes off the waves. Or to be more precise, their barely noticeable echoes, now and then disappearing from sight due to the wind and tree crowns.

What exactly you were hoping to see in the distance, and whether were you hoping, was a moot point. One of those that tensed up the atmosphere from the first words spoken. You didn't want to take responsibility and get caught in the crossfire.

"The Shogun's mood is extremely favorable these days," it seemed someone decided to take pity and throw you a bone. For this, you ignored the light touch on your shoulder. "Thoma conveyed that the fishermen whose boats safely returned to port do not cease to thank her."

You stayed still for a moment, considering something you couldn't give a name. Expectedly, Commissioner was fine with your lack of reaction most of the time, as long as you were where he wanted you to be.

"Winter will come soon"

Was there any meaning in this phrase or did it mean something completely different. Was it spoken for those who could hear, or did you voice it for yourself. You didn't know anymore.

A drop fell on the windowsill and purely by instinct you touched your cheek again, but, unfortunately, the sound of the rain that began once again reminded you how stupid it was to hope for anything.

He lied after all.

[otomes-world]

It was kind!Keith vs alter!Keith with some drama between Benitoite brothers.

✨Take a screenshot✨

I tried... lol

[catsaystuff]

No idea how dead this fandom is but let me make a contribution to it . as an offering

[amiya-shirou]

While I do think it's extremely important to analyze a story and try to get a deeper understanding of its contents, themes, and characters, sometimes there's a big part of me that finds greater enjoyment in losing myself to the experience, to go through something I don't fully understand yet is so evocative and striking that it leaves a deep impression on me nonetheless. Sometimes I don't even want to understand them in full because that uncertainty is such a big part of my appreciation.

Serial Experiments Lain and Angel's Egg are both among my favorite anime ever, yet I would have such a hard time if I were ever asked to try analyzing them or fully convey why I love them. I know that there are plenty of theories and analyses around, some more reasonable than others, but to me they've gone beyond any conventional notion of narrative, and I don't care about applying its standards to try and dissect them. If they had such a deep, long-standing effect on my mind it's not because of some masterful example of incredible character writing, or because they effectively played with genre convention or any other reason that would align them too much to the idea of following any sort of proper "rule". I love them because I feel they perfectly succeeded in "crystallizing" a particular emotion in such a way that it only was possible because they were so effective in making me, as the viewer, feel just as lost as the characters in the indecipherable maze of their stories.

This is why I never was able to forget the scene of Alice reaching out to a Lain that had gotten so entangled in the trappings of her own mind and of the nature of reality. This is why I was hit so hard by the despair felt by the girl in Angel's Egg. It's a level of emotional resonance that lives through, and is empowered by, that very deliberate feeling of uncertainty, of being lost and alone in a scary, crazy world you'll never really understand. Sometimes, I just want to be touched by something without having to go out of my way to define it.

[mifithemuffin]

[ 7 days of Rachel's Suicide Diary + Isaac's Prank Diary ]

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Drawn by 桜プリン (kuiruri)

Translation/cleaning/typesetting by @mifithemuffin

[otomes-world]

This made me want to read his route..

lie to me

harrison; 1,872 words; fluff and a bit of angst; fem!reader a/n: in which harrison tells you five lies and just as many truths

01.

“lie to me.”

“i love you.”

“ah, but that’s an easy one — how could you be in love with someone you just met, right?”

you smile, lacing your fingers under your chin as he looks you over, the smile on your lips simple and sweet and somehow unsettling in its simplicity. there’s something hidden there — he knows it. he just doesn’t know exactly what it is yet and… that in and of itself is intriguing enough to warrant a second glance, a second’s pause.

“go on, isn’t this supposed to be what you’re good at?” you ask, cocking your head, your eyes never leaving his.

harrison feels himself being drawn into you, the unflinching way you meet his gaze, the seemingly indomitable nature of your curiosity, your striking, painful honesty. ah — so is that what it is? has he gotten so used to the truth hidden beneath the lies that seeing truth hidden behind another veneer of truth has become strange? certainly, it’s not something he sees everyday but…

“alright then — i don’t love you, but i think that maybe i could —”

eh?

you blink, but harrison is already pursing his lips with a shrug, pushing up from where he’d been sitting across from you, your coffee mugs still steaming.

“there, ponder that one for a while, hm?” he grins, shooting a lazy wink your way, “and… that confused look on your face… i don’t hate it, y’know.”

02.

“lie to me.”

“my favorite color is yellow.”

“well, mine’s green.”

harrison looks up at you from across a piece of perfectly buttered toast, his mouth halfway open, watching as you slather your slice of toast in a truly impressive amount of jam. you’re humming to yourself and when you glance up to find him watching you, you shrug.

“what?”

harrison smiles, shaking his head, “nothing. just… ah — nevermind.”

“no, tell me.” you take a huge bite of toast and he can’t help the way his eyes snag on the smear of jam on your lower lip or the way your tongue sweeps out to lick it up.

“nope. don’t wanna.” he takes his own rather large bite of toast, washing it down with a sip of coffee that’s just a bit too hot.

“even if i say ‘please’?”

harrison pauses, considers. and then he smiles.

“for a second there, i just thought you were… cute.”

your blush makes something warm and tight unfurl in his chest. but you narrow your eyes and the tension inside his chest lightens ever so slightly.

“saah… was that a lie or was it the truth?” he muses, reaching out to tap a finger to the center of your forehead, making you blink, “well, you can believe whatever you want to believe. i don’t mind it either way.”

03.

“lie to me.”

“i actually don’t really like lying.”

you pause over the still-warm cranberry scones, your hand hovering over the butter dish.

“then why do you do it?”

harrison licks his lips, his eyes fixed on yours. he feels the beginnings of something cresting from his stomach up into his chest, over his shoulders, down the length of his back. it’s a strange thing, a nearly foreign sensation. but it leaves his whole body a mess a livewire tingles, and it makes him wonder about stupid things like truth and trust and belonging.

“because… it’s easy, i suppose.”

you nod, slowly breaking off a corner of a scone, and applying a liberal amount of butter to it before offering it to him. on the windowsill, there’s a vase full of bright yellow tulips, freshly picked and watered.

“my parents always said that if you tell a lie enough times, it starts to sound like the truth.”

“hm… they sound like smart people.” he reaches out to take the bit of proffered scone, popping it into his mouth and savoring the sweetness.

you watch him with a grin, “they were.”

a moment passes, and then another; harrison reaches for the sugar bowl at the same time you do and your hands brush. you pause; so does he. and then — laughter, as he pushes the bowl towards you and you shake your head, nudging it back.

“three sugars, right?” you ask, watching as he drops the cubes into his coffee and stirs.

“what can i say? i’ve got something of a sweet-tooth.”

“yeah. i know you do.”

04.

“lie to me… please — t-tell me everything’s gonna be okay.”

there’s blood everywhere, and the world is around you is a blur of rain and shadows. the streetlamps cast the air in a hazy glow and it would be beautiful, if it weren’t so deeply, horrifyingly terrible.

you cradle harrison to your chest, a hand pressed to the side of his stomach, where a sickeningly hot stream of blood is pouring from a bullet wound, your other hand holding his head upright.

“i — i think i’m gonna die,” he says, forcing a weak smile as he raises a hand to cup your cheek.

“h-harry! that’s not — that’s not funny —” but you can’t help the watery laugh that bubbles from your lips.

“you — you told me to lie to you… right? so…”

you bite back a sob even as it rips itself from your throat and you shake your head.

“y’know… you’ve gotten s-so bad at this…”

harrison’s own laughter is stuttered through with coughs. more blood, painting the soft of his lips so bright it almost looks like lipstick or strawberry jam. you reach up your hand to wipe it away, smearing the red across his cheeks.

he catches your hand in his, and the cliché of the moment hits you like a runaway train, veering off it’s tracks — the rain, the blood, the falling in love.

“what… at lying? ah… i guess that’s true… hey… look at me…” he presses his blood-stained lips to your hand before resting it along his cheek, holding it there even as more blood gurgles out of the side of his mouth. you try to tug your hand to wipe it away but he holds you tight, holds you dear.

“there you are…” he says, his eyes flickering over the plains of your face, “i su-suppose you might make an honest man of me yet…”

you shake your head again, fervent and desperate.

“no — i d-don’t want that — harry, please — you can’t —”

“m-my favorite color… didn’t used to be yellow… but now it is… and… i never did like lying… but i hated doing it to you… and… i never thought i could fall in love but… here i am… so there — i — i think that’s most of them —”

“harry, what are y-you doing?”

“i’m… telling you the truth. now… your turn — lie… lie to me.”

you let out another sob as you see the light from his eyes slowly fading, even as the distant sounds of shouting alert you to the ambulance racing your way.

“i-if you die, i swear to god, harry — i’ll chase you right into the gates of hell and pull you back with me —”

harrison laughs, his hand falling from yours, his lashes fluttering as his gaze goes wide and glazed.

“now that’s a lie… i’d be happy to believe…”

05.

when harrison next wakes up, it’s to a nearly pitch-black hospital room and a solid weight somewhere to his right. he lets out a soft groan and looks down to find… you, with your face pillowed on your arms, fast asleep by his bedside.

“she’s been here for three whole days.” victor’s voice is light but for once devoid of it’s usual levity.

“ah… of course she has.” harrison reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, a smile stretching his lips at the way your brows furrow slightly, your body shifting as he traces a thumb along the contours of your cheek.

“try not to excite her too much… she’s barely been eating or sleeping so who know’s — her heart might give out if you give her too big of a shock.” and with that, victor tips his head and slips from the room, leaving the two of you very much alone.

harrison revels in the quiet, in the patient pace of your breaths, the rise and fall of his own chest, his own miraculous heartbeat mapped in bright green spikes on a screen to his left. and he wonders briefly how quickly it’d have to beat before it would alert the nurses but —

“h-harry? oh… oh my god — you’re awake!”

“hm… really? ah, and here i was, thinking this was all a dream.”

you bury your face in his chest, gasping when he winces, but he chuckles and tugs you back towards him, his seafoam eyes so bright even in the relative darkness.

“i — i thought…”

“what? that i was dead? c’mon… i’m not that easy to get rid of.”

you bite your lips, shake your head, your eyes welling up with tears as you once again bury your face in his chest, this time careful to avoid his still tender wounds. he hushes you as you hiccup, running a soothing hand through your hair, down the back of your neck.

“i’m just… so glad y-you’re alive…”

harrison grins, cocking his head as you pull back to look at him, your eyes wide and watery and so, so beautiful. it’s unfair, he decides, that you should still look so daringly beautiful like this.

“come here… there’s something i need to tell you…”

you blink at him for a moment before allowing him to beckon you closer, to wrap his arms around you and skim his lips by your cheek till he’s whispering in your hear —

“i… i don’t love you… not even a little bit.”

and for a second, you freeze, your whole body going cold, but when you pull back, there’s a smile on harrison’s lips that makes you roll your eyes. you let out a soft little sigh, pillowing your cheek on his chest as he absently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wow… when did you become such a terrible liar?”

at this, harrison laughs, and he hisses at the pain but he doesn’t stop laughing, and a moment later you join him, and the pair of you fall into the waves and waves of laughter until he tilts your chin up to press his lips to yours.

“if i had to guess…” he muses as he pulls back, running the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, his eyes flickering from your kiss-bruised mouth up to your shock-widened eyes and back down again, a distinctly fox-like grin stretching his lips.

“i’d say that it was the day that i met you.”

[firehananas]

While doing reach for my owns OCs, I was surprised (while I shouldn't because if Sanada do something right it's definitely the symbolism of her characters) that Eddie is incredibly Thanatos coded.

✅ Psychopompe of sort (carried the bodies to hell/eternal rest), guardian of dead (literally one of the meaning of Eddie's name: Guardian of Tombs) ✅ Poppy theme (its seeds are narcoleptic and help create morphine, related to Thanatos, Hypnos and Morpheus in myth. Other than the sleep like apparence of dead, it's also because ingesting too much of it can be deadly.) ✅ *Anime only* butterfly theme (in Ancient Greek, butterflies are a symbolism for the human soul - it's also why Psyché is given butterfly wings, as she becomes the goddess of Soul. Sometimes, Thanatos is also represented with butterflies)

Both the flower and the insect are also symbolism for the beauty yet the brevity of life. ✅ Give peaceful/unpainful deaths (Thanatos was originally just the Death, then as the myth goes on, the brutals deaths were given to his sisters, the Keres) ✅ Big Family (For Thanatos: A twin brother who had A TON of children including Morpheus + all the others Nyx's children, being his siblings. Mason family is smaller in comparaison (4 boys) but they had a zoo in their house soooo...)

✅ Buttmonkey (Thanatos on paper is scary and inflexible, yet this dude manages to get caught in a bag by Sisyphus.)

(I mean.)

(And he also loses to Heracles for some reasons.)

(As is Eddie for the Angels who always ended up with the short stick).

Now I can see a more twisted vision of Thanatos/Hypnos with Albert/Eddie, so this will be more a theory/interpretation than a true comparaison but still.

Hypnos and Thanatos are twin brothers, and sometimes co-workers.

Hypnos, god of sleep, is represented with white wings and is beloved by humans and gods alike as they allow them to rest, to be at peace. This love is reciprocated.

Thanatos is represented with black wings. In opposition to his brother, he is hated and feared by humans and gods alike, but as Hypnos, the feeling is shared (though the fear is replaced by distaste).

Now, Eddie and Albert. They aren't twin brothers but I still feel there is some parallelism.

Albert is the "favorite" one, despite being the violent one. While saying he hates everything and everyone is probably exaggerated, he is in so much pain, frustration (and delusional), he projects on others, especially the weaks (and Eddie) and search to destroy them.

Meanwhile, Eddie is the "unfavorite" but also the kind one. The one who wants pets (and people) to be at peace. He feels that by 'owning' people (by killing them) he can make them 'happy' and connect with them that way (hence his interest in Ray).

All this to say that, somehow, Albert is like a Thanatos rejecting his role (as a gravedigger) and his family (becoming ironically more 'peaceful' than his so loving brother), while Eddie is a sort of Hypnos who had gone wrong by embracing his brother's (Thanatos) duty.

[sergiopolis]

angels of death fills me with this wholesome dread when i think about it because. i love it sosososos much but the sadness i felt when i finished it never went away, mentally i am still in my bed four years ago ugly crying in my pillow😞 aod holds a very special place in my heart

[eddiesshovel]

Prettiest angels. Of death characters

Danny's gay as fuck I would've become a straight man