Lou I'm so sorry for this random thought but I had to leave it out in the open: remember that ask whose premise was a role swap between L and the hunter?
Just, what would they have thought of the 'puppet corpse' the Vicar brought, of her words about a celestial seemingly taking the hunter as their spouse?
"They're what?" Leith's one brow raises in interrogation as they pin the vicar with their stare, dark as night.
"A concubine."
It starts as a mere twitch in Leith's eye, their body perfectly still, hunched as they are over the body of the hunter like a mother of dragons protecting her young. There's a hitch in their breath as their eyes flicker to the hunters dead gaze, and then they start to rumble from deep within their chest, something terrible prowling in there, begging to be let out. Their eyes slowly travel back to meet the vicars, wanting nothing but to wipe the smug smile off her face. Without thinking, Leith flings a knife that grazes her serpentine torso before lodging into a pew. There’s a beat of stunned silence even as the knife rattles and the guards stiffen into readiness.
And then she laughs. Like it's genuinely funny. If Leith had any less self preservation, they'd plunge another knife into the vicars throat and listen to her gurgle, and then they'd laugh, too. They'd laugh and laugh and laugh.
Instead Leith clenches their jaw and hefts the weight of the hunter into their arms silently, as if it's no matter at all; as if their knees aren't buckling and their chest isn't being torn in two. They turn on their heel, walking out. The vicar snickers, stopping her guards with a waggle of her fingers.
She won't hear the promise Leith whispers into the deaf ears of the hunter. But she knows. Leith will stop at nothing to find them again.
------
Leith buries the hunter beneath the tree they once climbed together as younglings, placing a palm against the trunk as if they could bleed it for memories. They kiss the earth where the hunter lay, and [whatever flower you associate with your hunter] begins to grow there the second they do. It breaks what little sanity Leith has left to see the first sprout break through the loose dirt, to then recognizing the bloom, and they rise then, slowly- like a new metamorphosis- they set their jaw and check their knives and then they walk into the forest, one simple goal in mind: to find what's theirs and take it back. Whatever it takes.
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6am exhaustion posting but it’s very funny to me that jack is compared to so many serpents, the biblical serpent in the garden. the ouroboros. the black snake. and then he loves fantasy movies with heroes that crush villains. he reads fairy tales like sleeping beauty, fairy tales that predominantly have knights in shining armor slaying the dragon or the serpent. obviously with him wanting to be a hero he’d follow the KISH archetype, but also look. serpents are medievally satanic symbols. fairy tales are majority stemmed in European Christianity. He’s literally a dragon that wants to be a knight . A satanic if not Thee Satanic Serpent wanting to be a hero and a Knight In Shining Armor and actively partaking in slaying other beasts for acceptance. this vision came to me with caffeine and zero sleep but do you see it .do you see how this is insane and also funny. Do you understand it …..
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I just got home from work and I'm sitting down to format ✨the Post✨ for ouroboros now. I am so nervous I feel like ripping trees and kicking and screaming but instead I just came home like 🧍(<- covered in blood and the sheen of victory)
I will see you in a few hours with what has me all twisted up and rosy inside. Thank you so much for being here :')
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If I told you there was a series of games created before I was born, developed by Capcom, and that I was obsessed with a pairing of middle aged men within; The pairing being comprised of a someone around a decade or so older than the younger, lighter colored hair, stern and serious with a very deadpan sense of humor, along with “this is my job. I shall do it perfectly” demeanor about his work— very cat-coded in general, if you can think it, it will most probably apply— and the younger being very a determined brunette with firm morals who goes toe to toe with the older man and is frequently one of the only ones who can do so with their hell-bent insistence to do good and defend those who cannot, no matter the cost, who is quite dog-coded in reverse.
They spend a few years in each other’s company, learning about each other (even if it’s at a distance and professionally) and then. Something happens. The older one of the pair betrays the brunette — his strings being pulled by a higher power, but it does not excuse him— and in the process reveals a cowardly and vengeful side after the event, causing the entirety of the franchise we play to happen.
And then only a bit later in the storyline, one murdered the other, in cold but passioned blood, because destiny deemed it this way and they only heed the call of it. And whether or not it was intentional, leaving said murdered man’s child an orphan completely alone in the world as a side effect. For years after the event, they are satisfied with what happened, if burdened by guilt. But they were right to do so, weren’t they? They proceed to be metaphorically haunted by the man they killed for the rest of their life, however. And that will come to a head for them.
Now… am I talking about Chrisker (Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker), or Shingou (Mitsurugi Shin/Karuma Gou) ?
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𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮? - continued from here.
The first thing Will Graham understood about this seating arrangement was that it was, undoubtedly, cozy. He didn't know where to put his hands at first, and he attempted to mirror the relaxed position of the other man, but that only resulted in him feeling more tense, less authentic. He wanted softness, not abrasiveness here, he wanted to find himself fulfilled in listening to his -- neighbor's story, a friend, a...someone who he...a person with whom he shared common interests -- neighbor Lestat's story.
But of course, neighbors didn't look at one another this way. Neighbors didn't think about what it might be like to touch the other man's hair, to wind it through his fingers, bring him closer, and understand the level of profound courage it took within him to get this far.
He had spent the better part of two decades believing he was one way, but the truth was another; acceptance came in moving from the South and subtly experimenting without actually doing so.
"That man didn't deserve his riches," he says, his hand frozen in the air, a conductor who forgot the music halfway through, "if he was so vicious to those around him. I never understood why people with money could be so cruel to others, but, it's another form of currency gold can't buy." He licks his lips, breathing in the scent of milk, honey, and roses dipped in candle wax. He doesn't understand how a single man can smell this way, he doesn't understand this sudden surge of feeling but, he's determined to comprehend it.
"I would think you of all people would have so many being thoughtful to you," comes his confession, his hand moving again, tucking an opposite strand of hair behind the other man's ear. "You remind me of a billboard and I'm just passing by on the highway with my cheap car," Gatsby's green light, the fervent longing that nearly impales the breath in his lungs, keeping his insight aloft, his reason far from him, "radiant, comet-tail. Once in a lifetime."
"I find it so hard to believe that someone like you wouldn't have others to be thoughtful towards them." His heart's a dark horse, nostrils flaring with hell-fire, he doesn't know what's come over him.
The man's smiling at him. The man's smiling at him, and he doesn't know what to do. "I haven't made someone smile in a long time. Most people just grimace at me and I don't mind, I don't much care for them either but, you---" you, "I like knowing I could make you happy."
His fingers bury themselves in the texture of the chaise lounge, once again, Will Graham doesn't know where to put his hands.
"You can--you're allowed to touch me. I don't mind." His glasses are at home, he forgot them today, but, not really. He wants to look tonight.
@deathcreate
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ok so would the overlord symbol be the symbol for the void essence if now harumis' flower is the symbol for [redacted] also do they have a shared symbol like how the green element has the devour/epsilon symbol and the golden essence has the genesis symbol but they also both share have the uroboros symbol
ok so would the overlord symbol be the symbol for the void essence if now harumis' flower is the symbol for [redacted] -> Yes :3
Do they have a shared symbol -> ideally, but I haven’t designed it yet :d
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there's a part of me that would say: by now, a natural trait of these characters, and subsequently, a huge element of their appeal is that they are always stranded at the peripheries of the narrative and cannot ever be genuinely heard. therefore, they should remain in that position. and there's another part of me that thinks: making them break the binds of the narrative and putting them in the center of the universe would fuck so hard and should be done.
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