Tumgik
#yet with a certain modern je ne sais quoi because even if you live in a jungle doesn't mean you can't have style and aesthetic
chihirolovebot · 2 years
Note
GODD- THIS NEW CHAPTER JAKCKEKDJEKC
I’m literally going feral over the reader’s independence. So often in stories, we see the reader glued to their love interest’s side with no motivation or drive of their own. They often feel like a film of saran wrap that the author just kind of, slaps on, which is why the execution of this story is so goddamn incredible.
The reader has depth and a certain je ne sais quoi that’s so undeniably “Danganronpa” that it only could’ve been achieved with intense, in-depth knowledge and thought about the plot and themes of the game. Not only do they feel like they were yanked straight out of the game, the way they behave and act feels real, and tangible, and human. We see them mourn, and grieve, and cope, and recover, and strive to do better, and AOCKEOKFKDJ- forget the fanfiction sector, there’s almost NOTHING in modern media that executes this kind of story well.
Following that train of thought, the reader’s relationship with the other characters has been developed so well. My worst pet peeve in a story is when the reader only interacts with their love interest and no one else, and yet everyone still seems to love them, but this story doesn’t have that problem at all. It’s so lovely seeing the reader interact with everyone, and provides such a nice breath of fresh air from the usual death and despair of Danganronpa.
God- there’s just so much that’s so incredible about this story, but I’m running out of words to describe it without sounding like a broken record. (Not that I think it’d be bad- you deserve a constant source of compliments running 24/7 for the absolute masterpiece)
So yeah, I look forward to seeing a new chapter at some point in time, but please take as much time as you need to get it up there!
OH WOW this is such a long thoughtful comment hello!!! it took me a minute to answer because i like to dedicate longer answers to this kind of feedback SO i apologise for the wait but here we are!!!
i cannot tell u how big of a pet peeve it is when the reader-insert for a story is just, like u said. a piece of saran wrap. like even if the personality the author gives them isn't anything like mine, it's still way more interesting than them just being a mary sue for lack of a better term. PLUS giving the reader a stronger personality makes writing their development so much more fun and interesting?? i feel??
getting the 'danganronpa-esque' writing n dialogue down was SO difficult because there is just a Way they talk which i cant even describe its just. the most normal dialogue ever followed by monokuma giving the most batshit insane monologue u have ever fucking heard. u go from sobering conversations between shuichi and kaito about guilt and grief to tsumugi talking about getting deepthroated by a squid. the whiplash between characters n conversations was definitely one of the hardest parts to pin down lol. i am SO flattered u think the reader-insert fits into the world of dr, and not only that but they feel real to u?? that is Insane. thank u very much u have no clue how much that means to me personally.
AND YEAH ok ok i think i said this in the preface of the fic in like chapter one but holy shit yeah, imagine going thru the whole story and the only one the reader had attachment to was kokichi. it definitely wouldn't work with the themes i highlight in my work (not just living for other people, living for yourself, and establishing a middle ground between trusting everyone and trusting nobody) especially with a character like kokichi, who blatantly flies in the face of those themes. it also just wouldn't work for the type of character arc i wanted the reader to go through — they want to want to live, and first they do this through loving the people around them and feeling that they 'owed' them to stay alive, and just now they're in the process of learning to live for themselves. but they could never have gotten to that point without the affections and connections to people like rantaro, kiibo, kirumi, kaito, tenko and shuichi. like. if the reader ONLY had a strong connection with kokichi, they could never have learned all those valuable lessons and grow as a person. kokichi provides something else entirely for the reader — he is a challenge and someone that makes them question their morality and the way they think. he's not going to be any help in making the reader realise they want to live (except when he's doing a little mansplain manipulate malewife).
thank u very very much for this!! i apologise that i rambled a lil i just Have many a Thought abt this fic and i could probably talk for days abt it. im very very happy ur enjoying it!!!
11 notes · View notes
otonymous · 5 years
Text
Second Chances (Ikesen Masamune - NSFW)
Tumblr media
Description: Let Modern AU Masamune be your biggest cheerleader Warnings: NSFW/18+:  Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised.   Word Count: 2125 words (~11 mins of fluff & smut) AO3: read here Author’s Notes: This is a story commissioned by the very lovely and talented @midnightmagicx, who requested a scenario with a MC who is experiencing anxiety in the midst of training for a gruelling pole dancing competition.  I had a lot of fun writing this and hope you enjoy it, dear!  Thanks a million for entrusting me with crafting this story for you.  Happy reading! 💕💕💕
Tagging: @midnightmagicx
Ikemen Sengoku owned by Cybird.
“Kitten….kitten, wake up….”
Masamune is looking down at you, cerulean eye wide in concern as he gently wipes the sweat from your forehead with one large hand, the other working to relax your white-knuckled grip around the bedsheets.
Wrapped up in the security of his arms, your breathing gradually calms as you take in your surroundings: eggshell-white ceiling, the warm glow spilling from the bedside table lamp, windows that made up one wall of the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend, overlooking the dim lights of a city still deep in slumber.
Masamune passes you a glass of water, waiting for you to drink before he asks,
“Another nightmare, baby?”
You nod, fingers rubbing at your temples as you try to swallow back the anxiety that nipped at your heels whenever you thought of your upcoming pole dance competition. The stress of your relentless training schedule colluded with your fears about your last event to conjure up nightmares that hounded you even in your dreams.
“I’m sorry to have woken you up. You have an early day tomorrow as well. I…I’ll just go…and sleep in the living room.”
Masamune clasps your wrist as you make to grab for your pillow, and when you glance up you see that look on his face: brows furrowed and blue eye flashing in admonishment. And with one tug, you find yourself lying on top of him and held tightly within the embrace of his muscular arms.
“You’re not going anywhere, kitten. Didn’t I tell you? We’re in this together. I’m here for you — every step of the way. You promised you would rely on me more.”
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you melt into the warmth of his body, the slow, steady beating of Masamune’s heart echoing in your ears as you allowed yourself to relax against the firm support of his bare chest.
“Do you remember the first time we met?”
His smooth, baritone voice resounded in the room, familiar like a lullaby, and you wondered at the contradiction of the man — the effortless way in which he was able to both calm and excite you with a single word, a light touch, a mere glance.
You nodded in response and Masamune continued, laying his hand lightly over yours as your fingers languidly traced the lines of his six-pack.
“You couldn’t stop staring at my eye patch,” he chuckles, the sound sweet, smoky and so alluring.
“And then that sad look that came over your face when you found out I lost my eye in a motorcycle racing accident. Gods, kitten, I could’ve taken you right then and there. But, you know, I could’ve hardly laid you out on the dinner table in the restaurant with all our friends watching. Well, I could’ve, but I’m sure you would’ve been unwilling to at the time.“
You slap his chest playfully as the insufferable man laughs, your mind’s eye transporting you back to that fateful night five years ago when mutual friends introduced you to the man they called the One-Eyed Dragon because of the way his company, Oshu Foods, dominated the industry, and…well, his having only one eye.
You smile to think of how irresistibly attracted you were to Masamune. He moved with the machismo of a matador, completely comfortable in his skin and dignified in a white tee, designer jeans and black leather jacket even as those around him were dressed to the nines.
And yet, all eyes in that Michelin-starred restaurant were irresistibly drawn to him, and you reflect on how Masamune always had that certain je ne sais quoi about him: men wanted to be him and women wanted to fuck him.
But you had made him laugh so hard he almost spat his water out, and he endeared himself to you with the way he blushed when teased about how poorly he handled his alcohol.
So when he insisted on seeing you home on the back of his motorcycle, extending an extra helmet to you as he leaned against its carbon fiber frame, you accepted, caring not about the incredulous looks of those around you as you let him kiss you breathless the way he had wanted to the entire evening. And the rest was history.
Masamune spoke again, pulling you back to the present.
“The doctors said I would never race again. And my dad…gods, he was furious when he found out I entered the Isle of Man TT race last year, saying I was throwing my life away after having it handed back to me on a silver platter, asking what would happen to the future of Oshu Foods if I weren’t so lucky this time around. But you know, when you find something that makes you feel so happy, so absolutely…alive, you just gotta do it, kitten.”
You listen, rapt, until the hand that had been slowly tracing the line of your jaw stopped at the chin to tilt your face up towards his.
“But I know you know this, kitten.  I’ve seen it.  You come alive when you dance on that pole. You’re so strong and graceful and sexy all at once. Hells, it’s beyond me how you make something so hard look so incredibly easy. It’s nothing short of magic.”
You could not helping smiling for you knew it was true, and looking deeply into Masamune’s eye revealed this was no lip service. His voice dropped even lower as he said,
“I was scared too, baby. As I sat at that starting line before the race, my thoughts began to close in on me: what if I had another accident, what if I came in dead last?  It was so bad, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
“But then I thought about what it was that I loved about being on a motorcycle, that initial thrill when I discovered how it felt to ride faster than the wind, how all you can see when you get in the zone is the road straight ahead of you.
“And that’s what really matters in the end: that you’ve tried your best, put your all into training for the competition and, most importantly, that you’re having fun. Because life’s too short not to be enjoying yourself, kitten.
“So I let all thoughts of the event being a competition just slip away and focused solely on going as fast as I possibly could without losing control — all while trying to enjoy the process.”
Silence descends between the two of you, comforting like a warm blanket. And as you settle your cheek back onto his chest, the sweetness of his words floating in your head like wisps of cotton candy, the corner of your eye falls on the photo frame on the bedside table.
In the shot, your arms are thrown around Masamune’s neck, sunglasses slipping off the crown of your head as you jumped for joy amidst champagne spraying into the air like liquid confetti. The One-Eyed Dragon, still clad in his racing gear, had one arm tightly wrapped around your waist, the other lifting his first-place trophy high into the air.
Yes, you remembered the day Masamune defied all expectations and came out victorious in the Isle of Man TT race, one of the most difficult and dangerous races in the world. You had never once doubted that he could do it. And now, he was telling you the same.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Did you see it, kitten?”
He whispers before licking the shell of your ear, large hands chasing the drops of water falling from the shower above to cascade down your chest.
“There was a standing ovation just for you! You absolutely murdered your routine. You did it baby, first place — just like I always knew you would.”
In the wet heat of the shower, with Masamune’s solid chest pressed up against your back, you felt the tension that had been steadily building in the months leading up to the competition seep away from your body, following the trail of soapy bubbles as they circled the drain before disappearing.
You thought of the bright spotlight that had awaited you beyond the curtain. Remembered how you had taken three deep breaths to ground yourself before stepping out — tall, proud and strong — to take centre stage, the place where you belonged.
For you knew Masamune was in the audience, watching you succeed with love and admiration in his eyes. You also knew that you loved pole dancing, that your body was addicted to the way the sport made you feel, and that this was something nothing and no one could ever take away from you.
With that affirmation, everything came together. Your limbs moved of their own accord to the memory of a routine you knew like the back of your hand, and you lost yourself in the music. And when the rest of the world fell away, only Masamune and his unconditional love remained.
“Masa?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you, really…for all that you’ve done.”
“Kitten, I didn’t do a thing you haven’t already done for me. Besides, you’re the one who put in the time and effort. You deserve all the credit for your victory.”
“Can’t you just graciously accept my thanks for once, you crazy man?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at how quick Masamune always was to downplay his contributions to the successes of others, yourself and otherwise.
“Well, if you insist…”
He fit himself even closer against you, lips finding the nape of your neck as his fingers brushed teasingly against your hardening nipples. And as he spoke between kisses pressed along your shoulder blades, you felt the unmistakeable nudge of his arousal against the cleft of your ass.
“…I’m always up for a reward. After all, it took everything in me to hold back from ravishing you on the spot whenever I saw you practicing your routine.”
Turning around, you wordlessly drop to your knees, warm water flowing down the smooth arch of your back as you look up at Masamune. Your tongue darts out to wet the corners of your lips and he sighs to feel the grip of your hands on the firm muscles of his backside. Steadying yourself on the tiled floor, you slowly took his formidable length into your mouth.
Masamune hisses through his teeth as you move, deliberately slow, and you know you’ve got him where you want him when he buries his hands into your wet hair, the furrow between his brows and tension in his fingers so telling of the monumental effort he is putting into restraining himself, when all he wanted to do was buck into your face with abandon.
Thick cock still in your mouth, you smile at him instead with your eyes as your hand draws away to move up the soft insides of your thighs, nestling in the heat between.
“Hells, kitten…now you’re really not playing fair.”
It excited you, putting on a show for him. For there was something deliciously primal about the way he looked at you now, much like the way he watched you when you pole danced. And as your fingers worked feverishly to stoke the fire of your arousal, the vibrations from the moans you couldn’t suppress almost drove the man mad.
So you really shouldn’t have been surprised when he pulled out and brought you to your feet, his command unmistakeable despite being whispered,
“Hands against the wall.”
Through the steam, you could make out your reflection in the bathroom mirror: palms pressed white against the glass of the shower stall as your body bent at the waist, wet strands of hair whipping the surface at intervals perfectly timed to the hard thrusts of Masamune’s groin against your ass.
And each time your lover slid in to the very hilt, making you gasp as he hit all the right places, you could only focus on the wet sound of flesh meeting flesh, the rhythm made more salacious for having been amplified by the acoustics of the room.
“Oh god, Masa-“
He kisses you from behind, swallowing your screams as you come undone, his fingers slowing on your pulsing clit as your pussy ceases to clench around the cock still buried deeply within you.
Then he finally pulls out to kneel before you, breathtakingly gorgeous as he admires the slow trickle of his release from between your legs. And when you feel his finger gathering the liquid to spread along the length of your folds, you melt from his words as much as the touch of his hand when he says,
“You know kitten, I know you won the competition, but I feel like the one who truly got the prize.”
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Thank you for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚
308 notes · View notes
moth-fuzz · 4 years
Text
20 Questions for 2020
I got tagged by @bumblequinn and tumblr hasn’t been my #main #platform for a while so I miss these things and I never pass up the opportunity to read about people and share about myself x3
1. Do you make your bed?
no lol
in all honesty, sometimes. it makes me feel better when I do. But I like to just jump out of bed and get working when I can
2. Favorite number?
love 6... love 16 as well. 6 is a nice number. divisible by 2 AND 3. Honorary odd number. 16 is a nice 2^2^2 or 4^2 or 2^4.. nice round number.
3. What’s your job?
I’m not working currently but I’m due to start working at a software consulting company a month from now... I don’t wanna be rude but I’m looking for other opportunities in the meantime x3
4. If you could, would you go back to school?
definitely not for computer science. They don’t teach you anything a programming job expects of you. IF I went back to school it would be for philosophy. Philosophy’s the only thing that makes me feel like I’m doing something real (ironic when you consider philosophy’s public image). I took a few philosophy classes, 2 entry level and 1 upper level. They were the most impactful and the most far reaching classes who had a real and legitimate connection with me as a person I ever took. I’d pay just to have those experiences again. Everyone deserves those kinds of experiences.
5. Can you parallel park?
Kinda? I mean I did it when I took my first driving test, but I haven’t tried in a few years and I don’t have a license so I don’t really have the opportunity to tell.
6. A job you had which would surprise people?
I’m sure they’d be surprised that in my 4.5 years of college I never pursued work til my last semester hahaha
7. Do you think aliens are real?
I’m sure by all statistical likelihood they’d have to be... but the universe is a huge place. And human’s lives are short, compared to our modes of travel. We haven’t seen any simply because we can’t, in our lifetimes, drive out far enough to see them. And they probably haven’t visited us because... I mean we’re a tiny dot in the middle of a trillion stars. It’s like finding a single grain of sand on the beach. It’s just hard. I gotta give em a break for that...
8. Can you drive a manual car?
no...
9. Tattoos?
okay this one’s a toughie for me! I want, at some point in my life, to be covered in tatoos. I think it’s just a beautiful look. But also! I can’t think of anything meaningful enough to me to put on my skin. Let alone a dozen or a hundred of meaningful images to put all over my body. So I’m stuck on that...
10. Favorite color?
I love purple. I love honest, muted, natural colors. My favorite pallet is purples and grays. Maybe black too. I love cloudy skies, smoky rooms, and furniture faded with use. I like pastels that just seem to add to the scene, to paint the scene with a subtle hue, soft colors that diffuse outward and bring a certain quality to the entire area instead of bold colors that just draw the eye to the single colored object... je ne sais quoi.
11. What’s your guilty pleasure?
I love comfort food. I feel like a child whenever I eat anything that isn’t like ... complex. Granted I love complex foods too (indian cuisine particularly is my favorite) but there’s a special place in my heart (and my stomach!) for like. Candy and mcdonald’s and sodas and stuff.
12. Things people do that drive you crazy?
blatant contrarianism. People who just pick the worst hills to die on, all the time, forever. Their entire public image is hatefulness. It’s so so tiring I don’t know how they do it. Are you happy? Do you enjoy this?
Another thing I can‘t stand is people who think they’ve got everything figured out. Not so much people who claim to know things, but people who claim to have some mental framework that covers ... everything. And often they’re wrong!! But, of course, according to their own mental framework, they’re right and everyone else just hasn’t figured it out yet. Insufferable.
13. First thing you remember you wanted to be when you grew up?
I wanted to be a theoretical physicist pretty much up until I got to middle school and discovered programming. I like math and science, I still do. Computer science at its highest level is basically just applied math with a bit of imagination. Theoretical physics is... kinda the same thing too. Except instead of computers you have stars and atoms. Just subject material. Same mental space. Same abstraction of nature that becomes a sort of nature in itself.
14. Favorite childhood sport?
Okay I loved the variation of soccer I used to play in elementary school where the athletic kids would play actual soccer and me and the other unathletic kids would just slowly walk around the field and give a kick here and a kick there...
15. Do you talk to yourself?
Yes! All the time. Mostly when other people aren’t around. It helps me realize and catalogue my thoughts because otherwise my brain moves too fast to keep up :3
16. What movie do you adore?
I think my favorite movie ever was kimi no na wa or Your Name. It had AMAZING pacing, AMAZING visuals, AMAZING characters and the plot was just so incredibly written and everything was so well tied together and everything came at just the right time and the conclusion was so so so fucking satisfying I dsajkfghdf UGH
and the SOUNDTRACK!!! FUCK!!!!
17. Do you like doing puzzles?
Big ADHD feel. I love puzzles. I love puzzle based games. I love the elation of figuring something out. I love puzzles so much, in fact, that I kinda think of everything I do as a puzzle in some way... Programming is definitely a puzzle. Finding all the pieces that fit together - except, you get to design the pieces!! But now >:3 the burden is on you to make it elegant and adaptable. Anyone can hack something together but the REAL puzzle is designing a system that both solves a problem and does it in a way that’s efficient and Also elegant and easy to use. Puzzles within puzzles.... ohhhhhhhfh I love thissssss
18. Tea or coffee?
100% coffee. I drink tea but I’m not a ‘tea person’. I love coffee so much. Black coffee. Lattes. Starbucks sweet coffee concoctions. Espresso. Coffee from all around the world. God Do I Love Coffee.
My favorite coffees tend to be from asia, currently I’m really liking sumatra mandheling. I love coffees that taste like dirt. Rich, earthy, complex. Real dark and real bold. Usually those are from asia. I’m okay with african coffees but they tend to be really deep and fruity, sometimes even chocolatey, which, is real hit or miss for me. If you’re from america usually you’ll have south american coffees which tend to be light, woody, nutty sometimes. They’re usually too light for my taste but sometimes they really really hit. Gross generalizations aside, I love trying out every coffee and there’s more exceptions that blow my mind than anything else. I don’t think I’ve ever had a coffee I actually didn’t like, just many I like better. In any case I just love coffee!!!
19. Phobias?
Ocean. Don’t like big bodies of water that I can’t see down. Also there’s weird stuff in there. I don’t know how people just hang out at the beach with crabs and urchins and crawdads and jellyfish and sharks and riptides I’m just scared out of my mind!!! This is their land!! Not mine!!
20. Favorite kind of music?
Alternative rock of all sorts. Shoegaze, grunge, post-rock, math rock, electronic rock, emo... I also love hardcore and post-hardcore as well. A lot of metal does it for me but also a lot doesn’t so it comes and goes. I love music with a strong groove and complex textures. Me big ADHD so I like to tap along in weird and complex ways so it really helps if the meter is weird and complex already x3
Big runner up is hip hop and pre-2000s edm. Big groove, heavy on the swing, lots of samples, really rich. Future funk also falls under this category even though it’s modern.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Inevitable Part Where It Asks You To Tag 5 People
Feel free to pass up on this but here we go!
@mothman @bobbybobertson @exowave1 @reydiantskyes @sylvium-z and p much everyone else who follows me! I’d love to hear more from everyone else :3
5 notes · View notes
smarmykemetic · 6 years
Quote
in another life, nephthys is sitting in a morgue. her fingers go over a body in little searching rivers. she will bring the hearse around and help the body in. in this life, she feels sometimes her real job is protector of the living, not of the dead. who else needs it, after all? the dead are the dead. she arranges them like flower petals. her funeral home comes smelling of coffins, but softly, welcoming. she is known for taking “hard cases,” makes a mangled body look beautiful, the same way she did once, a long time ago, for osiris, who calls her sometimes, when he remembers. anubis and neph get together and shit-talk. she likes dark wine a lot. he likes taxes. osiris is busy. sticks his hands in the dirt and shifts it around. when monsanto comes, osiris floods. catch him out with the bees. catch him telling them the right way to go, but gently. a good leader who is tired, right. had the pride dragged out of him. he likes superman a lot. feels a certain je ne se quoi connection to someone who can’t see through lead. osiris, half-there, half-gone. scattered to the ends of the earth like seeds. anubis - when he’s not folding a fitted sheet - lives in the world of forensic science and judging. dual degree, because he like being busy. meticulous. gets the details right. walks in the world of law and feels a little thrill (just quietly) whenever sentencing someone he knows is guilty. listens well, and always decorates tastefully. eats in tiny bites. likes to cook by weighing things. actually just likes to weigh things. he has a long love-hate relationship of digital scales - so accurate but so unbeautiful. a digital scale takes the uncertainty out. it knows how much a feather heart would be. it is unlike the scales of his hands, the sensation of good/guilty. the word “fair but harsh” follows at his feet. he likes wreaths, the arrangement of something dying. his guilty pleasure is crime tv, although neph won’t watch it with him any more because he can’t help but say things like “in reality, that wouldn’t be sufficient evidence” or “98% of murders go unsolved” or “i can tell by his eyes that he’s guilty”. hathor - twin to destruction - runs a couple’s spa. loves weddings and planning weddings and being at weddings and dancing at weddings. has an elaborate ballroom for elaborate parties where elaborate people go. of course situated on 500 acres of farmland with free-range cows. if you’re really nice to her and she’s really drunk, she’ll let you ride one. always knows what kind of bottle to bring to a party, loves long dresses that flow around her. knows instinctively if you need a hug and is always good for one. once dressed up as sekmet for halloween, to which everyone said “too soon.” has long hair and really bad at palm reading but loves giving advice about your love line. known for massages that are brutal but effective: a little hint of harshness, her twin’s reflection. cries at proposal videos and has a girl’s night every month where they all get together to watch chick flicks. most of them love it, sekmet pretends to hate it just because she likes to complain loudly. sekmet. poor lady. the problem with identical twins is that everyone thinks they’re one and the same person. hathor sprang from a mirror on the day that sekmet looked into her own destruction and split the love she has in her heart with the evil she had wrought. it was lonely, at the end of the world, and her sister came from that loneliness. wears a different pair of glasses every day of the week, always has a biting reply that is unfairly funny. loves glasses that have absurd rims, mostly because she likes watching people squirm when they want to mention them - “do you like them?” she grins, knowing they do not, knowing they will not tell her that, her eyes the unblinking sun glare she’s so good at. she hides in the shadows, doesn’t smile unless you’re uncomfortable, still agrees to get her nails done with hathor every week (coffin-shaped acrylics, obviously). absolutely knows your deepest insecurity instinctively. best friends (and maybe more than friends) with bast. they go motorcycling. bast, made kitten-woman from lion-heart, often gets underestimated, and she’s okay with that. a cat knows when to sheathe claws. how to purr in the right way only to save the fangs for a later day. loves winged eyeliner. buys low, sells high. also runs an all-inclusive women’s shelter and very good at group therapy. the group homes for “lost girls” sprawl across the country. she seems like she’s always there, ready. the minute things get tense and a girl starts acting up: suddenly, her green eyes, watching. that unnerving promise that the protection she offers does not include protection from the growl at the back of her throat. loves stock markets mostly because it’s watching a string, but with data. will also never admit that out loud for any reason ever even if it meant her life was forfeit. kind of has a thing for sekmet, kind of, because, like, who couldn’t. maybe it’s kind of happened a few times oops. often pranks ra, because, like, who wouldn’t. ra works on weekends in animal rehabilitation because where else can you get a hawk in this economy. tired, but good with a smile. teacher at a very fancy art school where he likes to see how many times the words “be creative” can be used in a day. really into that one “miley what’s good” moment from nicki minaj, which he still references even though it’s been a year. tagged it @aset. actually has learned how to get along with osiris, because being in charge honestly got to be too much stress. has convinced hathor his real name is greg. every year he changes it up to something more absurd. last year it was bob. when she gets drunk at the end of the year with sekmet, she always begs him to tell her the truth. he says “okay, okay, okay.” then convinces her it’s Microsoft Word. also owns a large collection of “#1 Dad” mugs. regularly challenges horus to arcade games. horus works in the department of defense. tries to actually defend things, works with the “eye in the sky” and media intake. really likes how cool his eyepatch makes him look. time in this world is so specific, and there’s so much to take in while his eye is wandering. it used to be a lot harder to watch over things. he secretly cries at the movies where the son says “no mom, i’m living your dreams!” but still gets coffee with aset. aset keeps her hair in a bun and her chin up. nobody tries her. on trains, there’s a big circle of space around her, even at rush hour. she bleeds authority. mogul at large, although her interests vary. whatever will bring her upwards, quickly. marriage counselling is quite fun, but she’s thinking about being a divorce lawyer soon. and yet, despite all this fire in her: sweet. knows when to make cookies. she did what she had to do to survive. if you’re loved by her, you’re safe. she doesn’t love often, but when she does, it expands to swell the entirety of space. has a collection of sand dollars and lipsticks. excellent at making someone feel a little less alone. she won’t comfort you with a hug. she’ll show up and be there and somehow, in that knifeblade power she wields, you feel better. whole. set is at the edges. turns out the problem with immortality is that everyone remembers that one time you cain-and-abel’ed your brother. “it’s like,” horus said once while drunk, “can i even trust you anymore?” it hurt worse than set expected. family didn’t matter that much until he was left without it. works in dentistry where he can put people in pain for a fee. secretly covets the color pink; that softer blush than the reds people paint him in. protector of the wild ones, the ones no one else will look after. the darker souls who are still asking for saving. he understands sibling jealousy a lot. sometimes calms people down, sometimes revs them up. cries in bathtubs. feels himself, full of rot. why is it that the gods were made so human, and he, so cruel, so twisted, so evil. to spit at him is good, after all. he breaks like a branch in a storm. goes to pride parades in a mask, wishing for a courage he doesn’t know the name of. he calls toth just to hear him breathe, and then immediately hangs up. and toth? in the land where words are so permanent and impermanent, where wisdom is both a click away and away from those who doesn’t want to see it - doesn’t he suffer the greatest. it was one thing when libraries weren’t a thing. it was another when the world is now a constant updating stream. he feels the echo chambers like bracelets on him. now there’s information everywhere - but nobody willing to actually read. how terrible, how frustrating. and yet: for every person who doesn’t understand “don’t believe everything you read”, there’s another book being quietly self-published that strikes his interest, his longing. in this life, when he can, he turns the computer off and goes for a walk. when he writes come, the gods come. and they talk.
modern (kemetic) gods.
this piece was written for me by the lovely @inkskinned. Thank you so much Raquel!!
524 notes · View notes
otohoe · 5 years
Note
Your headcons are the BEST!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜 can I please have your HC on the main 6 bedtime routine with MC? Please and thank you ☺️
first of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH????????? THIS IS SO NICE and also OF COURSE YOU CAN!!!! :D :D :D
second, a couple things, before we get started!!
I did some (a lot of) research on dental hygiene and skin care in the renaissance and before in order to make this 100% accurate. the primary sources I utilized can be found here and here.
finally, the pictures I have of the sleeping positions depict a man and a woman, but the sex of the people involved has nothing to do with the sex of the characters. it’s just used to illustrate the sleeping positions :D
Asra 
Asra used to... rampantly break out as a teenager, so he cares about his skincare more than most. Oatmeal boiled in vinegar is how he takes care of his face, which actually works like a charm for him. It’s something of a nightly ritual for him in evenings, and generally gets a bit panicked if he forgets. The one and only exception to this was when he was............ otherwise occupied, shall we say.
He likes sweet things, so for his teeth he produces sugar comfits from three parts sugar to one part water, later combined with 1/2 cup each caraway seed, anise seed, fennel seed. These also have the added benefit of acting as a breath freshener and aiding in indigestion!
Not a good sleeper at nighttime. A rampant insomniac, Asra tends to either skip sleeping entirely, work through the night, go on long walks, or suffer. All of this is made up for later by an immense number of naps. 
But with MC there? You bet your ass he’s going to at least try to sleep. Because if he can’t, he’ll still get to spend the night by your side, holding you close. And he just so happens to love the scent of you, the feeling of you near. In other words? There will be cuddles.
Julian
Bedtime routine? What bedtime routine? This boy will fall asleep while working on literally anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if he fell asleep standing while trying to cook a meal. 
He does take care of his teeth, though, if only because, his eyebags aside (he thinks they add something that certain je ne sais quoi to his general aesthetic,  what can he say), he’s a vain fucker. You think he gets that fancy ass coif to happen naturally to his hair? Absolutely not! that fuck steals mazelinka’s rollers whenever he gets the chance! Otherwise it’s just bedhead all over (which has its own appeal, of course).
Anyway, back to teeth! Mazelinka simmers mint and cinnamon in white wine for her best worst boy for him to use as a rinse for after he’s done using “a sharp linen cloth” to rub his teeth and gums “until they bleed.” I picked this method specifically because holy shit, you know he’d low-key enjoy it. After, he’d eat marjoram, mint, and pellitory, until well-chewed. He cares about fresh breath, dammit. 
He’s always had clear af skin tho so Asra probably hates him for that just a little bit. 
It doesn’t matter where he’s sleeping. It’s always going to be a fucking twin sized bed. Whether he’s at home, sleeping in Mazelinka’s bed, or in the hole, it’s going to be a tight fit. But even if he was sleeping in a fucking california king-sized bed, it would not matter. You’re still going to be spooning him. Even if you’re half his size. Always. 
Nadia 
You know those massively long, drawn-out, extra af korean skincare regiments? That’s Nadia in a nutshell. Her evening routine is extensive. We start with a milk bath for smooth, silky skin, then use herbs and honey to cleanse and rejuvenate the skin not only of the body overall but also of the face, and let that shit soak. Facemasks? Yes, please. (Modern Nadia would live at Lush tbh!!)
For her teeth, she won’t go so far as to make them bleed, but she does very much care about oral hygiene. Her preferred method involves distilling powder of roche alum, salt, and honey in a saucer of strong vinegar (or rather-- having this done for her, mind you, she does not do this for herself) that she then coats a rough cloth in before washing her teeth with it, rubbing them not yet to the point of bleeding.
For good breath, she additionally will place a laurel leaf that has been soaked in orange-flower water under her tongue for a short time. 
Finally, before bed she does like to finish things off with a nightcap in more ways than one before retiring to bed upon her silk sheets. As for her sleeping position, Nadia is tol and protective and she will spoon you and you will like it. Even if you’re bigger than she is. She does not care.
Lucio
If you think Nadia goes all out for her bedtime routine, it’s nothing compared to Lucio’s, holy shit. 
He, too, prefers milk baths, though he tends to finish them off with ointments consisted of animal fats for smooth, glistening skin. Needless to say, these are massaged in by his servants while others smooth and polish his nails. 
For his face, he has them use aloe vera, rosemary, and cucumber to cleanse the skin. Face masks are likewise a daily occasion, with Lucio’s preferred mixture being seeds, leaves, and flowers mixed with honey to create these, with vinegar used as an astringent. 
To soothe any puffiness of the eyes, he uses bread soaked in rose water. 
Bread soaked in rose water was also used to soothe puffy eyes. 
Though Lucio obviously has naturally fruity, sweet, delicious breath, he isn’t about to pass up on the opportunity to brag and impress, so his tooth routine is two-fold. 
To clean his teeth, he uses orange bergamot mint soaked in vinegar to act as a rinse. The orange bergamot makes it feel fucking fancy, okay? 
Then, to send his breath into the stratosphere, he likes to use spice balls, one under either side of his tongue at once, spice balls being made from cloves, nutmeg, cinnamon, mace, red sandalwood, quibibis, and cardamom, all mixed with the juice of mint before turned into fig-sized pills.
Then he’s serviced in the best of nsfw ways (for details, please see this nsfw post) and calls it a night. 
He sleeps like a baby and fucking snores. Takes up the whole bed. He’s a goddamn starfish. Y’all can try to tell me that this isn’t him in bed but it is. This is him. Poor MC.
Muriel
His bedtime routine? He goes to bed. 
I kid, of course. Not really. He feeds Inanna. Feeds the chicks. Checks the perimeter around his house, that the wards are going to keep holding, and extinguishes the fire if it isn’t too cold out. 
He doesn’t do anything for his skin, and tends to just make do with a water rinse before and after bed, but! He also has a pepper/salt/mint powder around that he made himself and keeps around to chew (and swallow!) if he... feels the need. Read: when his MC starts being around.
When it comes to sleeping positions, Muriel wants the closeness but also not... too much? But keep in mind that his bed is small and Muriel is huge. So expect to just be using him as a pillow, basically. Enjoy. He likes the way your hair smells, so it’s a win/win all around.
Portia
Portia, granted, has a great deal of theoretical knowledge of skin care and oral hygiene. She has first-hand experience helping her countess, after all! But just as Buzzfeed Tasty employees come home to eat ramen and the last thing a Starbucks employee wants to do upon coming home is make more coffee, so does Portia not really... feel up to doing it when she gets home, even for herself. At most, she’ll use broom stalks (like wheat stalks) to cleanse her skin if she breaks out, and she’ll use a basic water rinse in the morning and evening, but other than the occasional herb chew (she prefers lovage or fennel, generally), she is fairly low-maintenance. 
When sleeping, she tends to run hot. She wants closeness, but generally can’t handle it, and she moves around a lot in her sleep. So while she has a bigger bed than you’d expect and there’s a lot of migration during the night, her favorite position is this one. Closeness without feeling stifling or too warm!! Expect to get kicked, tho.
108 notes · View notes