the may brand contract
mun page and rules
non-servant character list
servant character list
welcome to hell, folks!
No title available
Keni
Misplaced Lens Cap

tannertan36
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
NASA
Stranger Things
No title available

titsay
todays bird
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
YOU ARE THE REASON
tumblr dot com
d e v o n
Not today Justin

No title available
will byers stan first human second
dirt enthusiast
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from Belgium

seen from United States
seen from South Africa
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United Kingdom
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Singapore

seen from Malaysia
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
@caimkairos
the may brand contract
mun page and rules
non-servant character list
servant character list
welcome to hell, folks!
But do you REALLY want the K?
Hey, I like that chivilrousxhybrid post about kisses, but I felt it was missing some Important Smooches and had to fix that. So send me two characters and “I want the K” and I’ll generate a number for them!
1: Passionate Kiss
2: Gentle Peck
3: Firm Kiss
4: Shut-Up Kiss
5: Romantic (Tender) Kiss
6: Teary Kiss
7: Distract-Someone Kiss
8: Kiss in the Rain
9: Underwater Kiss
10: Upside-Down Kiss
11: Goofy Kiss
12: Almost Kiss
13: Hair Kiss
14: Forehead Kiss
15: Eyelid Kiss
16: Nose Kiss
17: Cheek Kiss
18: Jawline Kiss
19: Collarbone Kiss
20: Chest Kiss
21: Stomach Kiss
22: Hipbone Kiss
23: Hand/Wrist Kiss
24: Butterfly Kiss
25: Asker’s Choice (OR pick one from 1-12 and one 13-24)
soulgathered:
the moment they speak, the moment they look at her, her expression changes. something akin to panic appears. if douman, the one who had even made her lostbelt possible, forgot about her… her thoughts start to race but the most prevalent one is the fear of going back to being that cassandra. naive cassandra. dumb cassandra. the seer, the cursed. the one who did not manage to get a hold of her fate, who had lost everything, the dumb girl who could not protect her family. the cassandra who had been part of some entertaining little war for the gods.
no, no. ritsuka still remembers. she had made sure that the master would not forget her. would not forget all the lives they had decided were not worth living. then why, if she knew that, did that fear not go away? ( she knows why, it is because she genuinely cares for douman. because she had missed them. because they were now part of what she understood as her family. as her troy. she could not admit that losing them would personally hurt her ).
…and then they continue speaking, she has half a mind of telling them with teary eyes to just shut up. just so cassandra can go and hide but…
this cursed jester knew her ! they were just toying with her. and she had fallen right into that trap.
“…I hate you” and for less than a second she somewhat does. because they make her vulnerable and cassandra had promised herself to never be that anymore. ah but, she remembers their screams when she had sent them away. she isn’t the only one here who can become vulnerable. “cassandra of troy” she simply says before turning around, waving a hand. “not that such a name tells you anything, right? I must have mistaken you, so please excuse me. I believe I heard master is preparing for a mission and as I am newly summoned I want to see what this body of mine can survive on the battlefield”
“Mouuu, what a shame.” Ah! Cursed jester strikes once more! They take not even a moment to hoist her up into their arms, holding (revealingly) tight. The way Cassandra folds, the bit of panic, is more than enough. “I was thinking my Queen may perhaps have realized a fraction of the anguish she caused this humble servant of her’s. Perhaps even this moment, feeling forgotten, may suffice to give her a bit of insight...”
Ah, they are a horrible servant. Too bad. Cassandra picked them, as their talismans unfold out from their sleeves and whirl around them, just to make escape a bit more difficult.
“...of course, I expect my queen will be wise enough to know...” Ah. There’s the anger. The long buried rage, as their clawed hands tighten but do not harm. (Of course they wouldn’t.)
“...that there will not be a second time for Queen Cassandra of Illium, Mighty Lady of Troy, to pull such a thing off.” Ah. Their teeth still are rather sharp. Especially looking down at her, something fond and furiously terrified in their eyes.
summoned-anima:
Peperoncino was more than ready to stand up against entire Chaldea on his own if that meant reaching and saving Ophelia… but he was there also to accept and support her choices, no matter what they were. It was her future; something beautiful to be born one day. No, wrong - it was born already, now it only needed to blossom.
‘I understand. Ahhh, don’t worry, Ophelia, I don’t plan on dying ~✰!’
And then, first time ever since they have met, Ophelia managed to surprise him. Arou raised hand to his own cheeks. Oh my, was that blush? What a sly cunning little mage she was!
‘I wish I could see you right now, Ophelia.’ Pepe whispered softly. To see if her colors changed. To see if that desaturated, dull color palette changed into something a bit more lively. Oh, how curious he was! If they weren’t right now at such critical situation.
‘Oh… If you called me and not Kirschtaria… Do you want me to keep my pretty mouth shut? Not a single problem, sweetie, if that’s a case ~’
...ah, she really wanted to see him, too. “It’s not fair. I want to see you, too... especially after everything that happened in my Lostbelt...!” For as fair as life could ever be. Truth be told, she didn’t think of it like that very much, did she? Ophelia never cared whether life was fair. Honestly, though...
...it was frustrating, in a way she was learning to appreciate, to have people respect her decisions, to wait for her to make them. Her eye winces, just a tiny bit. (Right, right. She remembers. She gets it.)
“...I would prefer him not to know, if it wouldn’t endanger you.” The concern is a little unfamiliar. No, not unfamiliar, just... still hard to reciprocate. Her friend’s words are reassuring, but she still feels unsettled, right now. This room isn’t really a ‘safe’ place yet, if ever. Her knees rock against her chest. “Like I said... I don’t think... I’d be able to think for myself if I went back, yet. He- he’s not a bad... it’s just...”
‘Yet’. It’s not like she really would mind, going back, if things were different, would she? Ahh, why did things have to be complicated, or things like ‘what she wants’ have to matter? Why did this newfound... ‘will’, have to be so fragile and weak-spirited?
“I did want to tell you one thing, though. Nobody but... well, the Chaldeans, and Kirschtaria, knows. Do you know... did you, know, who my servant truly was?" Ophelia wouldn’t put it past Pepe to know, even as something in her brain/soul pushes back with idle curiosity. It’s okay. Pepe is trustworthy.
“Did you know the full extent of my contract?”
It’s... well...
...
...Surtr is still a force that can be fated to burn the world. If anyone is to know he’s still around, and is probably (she’s still not sure) why she survived, then... Ophelia would want it to be Pepe.
originlist:
it’s so noisy. not in a literal sense, the thoughts scrawling in the corner of his perspective aren’t voiced aloud, but they are distracting. things to parse, words layered quick and flashing with letters jumbled together. seimei would prefer not to notice them at all, but they are unfortunately rather obtrusive.
It’s not much quieter, on Bei’s end, even if they can, ostensibly, be more quiet like this. Their head, lost to their current circumstances, are not as aware as they normally would be of the pressure of a spell pressing in on their soul and brain.
brilliantpride:
Slams her hand into the wall next to Fafnir’s head.
“Look, you keep running away when you see me, and that just feels shitty, dude. If you have a problem with me, tell me.” Maybe slamming her hand into the wall next to his head isn’t the best way to get on his good side, but. “Did I do something to you? At least give me a chance to make it up to ya. Something. Or tell me to fuck off, that’s fine, too.”
Ahhh... awahhhh... “You’re scary.” Hyuhhhhh, the scary fox person is trapping him...! He’s not a scary intimidating dragon like this! He’s but a tiny humanoid shape! A stupid soft skinned tiny defenseless ball! (Ignoring that Fafnir can, in fact, just change forms...?) The spines on his tail have clacked up and together like a porcupine, and despite his aloof looking face, his eyes are... almost sparkling? Is he tearing up??
“Y- you’re really scary... I can’t figure you out... awahhhhhhhh...” People with this strong of an identity are one thing, but this- “I can’t tell how valuable you are and it’s scary...!”
sinsoko:
“What else can a man hope for, my friend?” Karna is equally smug. If there’s one thing he takes pride in it’s persistence. (Or perhaps being a gadfly.)
“Nothing more!” Ah, two horrible, horrible bastards finally reunite. It’s probably not a surprise they got along. “Except, of course, a good friend to menace others. Would you happen to know where I could find that?”
originlist:
It’s wordlessly difficult, to throw away the person one has always hoped to be, even for a single moment of weakness. But what a horrid existence they are. Their skin crawls (hairs raise, goosebumps take over the flesh) as the door closes, and some forbidden part of them thinks, the escape is closed off, despite knowing Seimei could escape anything.
an unwritten file
It starts like this; you were born a twin, somewhere years ago, in a small house that is in a small village that is in an expansive mountain range that is isolated from the rest of the world.
brilliantpride:
Grabs their wrist. “…N-Not so rough.”
Nibbles on an ear (somewhat) gently out of spite. “Yip for me.”
brilliantpride:
“OW— HEY!” There’s such a thing as too much, yanno!
“Animals don’t talk.” pet pet pet pet pet pet pet pet pet
corrchoigilt:
Continuing from here || @caimkairos (Sophia) –
It’s rare that he’s ever speechless except out of choice. Sometimes things were better left unsaid. Sometimes things were preferred left unsaid. But this… he’s not sure what he expected her to answer with, but he couldn’t have imagined this. Perhaps rather he refused to consider it. Maybe he wanted her to admit to some ulterior motive even if they both knew she was lying. That damn woman lays before him, bloodied and just barely pulled from death.
She knows he can kill her. Knows he could have in the past. She’s vulnerable both for her state and for the honesty she chooses to show him. And she smiles. She trusts him. Not because she thinks she can control him, but because she has come to know him.
He hadn’t considered it and for a moment it terrifies him.
Something pulls at the back of his mind as it often does. Something defensive. Something self destructive. A well-ingrained instinct to push or pull away when something (someone) got too close. He could prove her wrong in her trust for no other reason than that. She says he could ask for anything and she’s right. He’s practically handed her his life. His existence. All things must be met in kind. All exchanges must be equal and thus he could ask for anything.
Anything.
Anything.
And he knows she would smile giving it to him even if it were her own life.
“Good gods, the blood loss really is making you delirious.” Finally he finds his voice, sharp and critical despite his expression moments earlier. A sense of control to sever that thought as quickly as possible. He knows what he wants and perhaps that’s more shameful than wanting her dead. Maybe he would think it’s a fate worse than that. And suddenly a decision made to selflessly save her life feels selfish.
“Anything, huh? Then try not to whine too much. You look awful, you know.” And he’s quick to busy himself in tasks rather than thoughts. He finds a section of rock that’s dipped inwards to use as a makeshift bowl; a sigil carved into the air that causes it to fill with water. A strip of fabric is torn from his robes and after wetting it he begins the slow process of cleaning her wounds. A gesture that now feels a bit too intimate with the sensation of feeling the mana flowing between them.
“Maybe if you wore something a bit more practical we wouldn’t have this problem. ‘Mystic Codes’. It’s just a fancy way of saying you wanted an excuse to wear a cashmere sweater instead of armor-” It was a meaningless argument meant to do nothing more than fill silence. Make things less awkward as he worked. Hands that were steadier and more gentle than one might expect pause as they trace the edges of what he worries will turn into a scar.
Something sinks in the pit of his gut.
He now reaches for the satchel at her side, taking it as he turns away without a word. Sophia always carried a few different ingredients with her and for that he was thankful. Everything he needed wasn’t exactly here but he could make do. There was a recipe for a salve he remembered that old bastard had him make before and he’s quick to do so now. This needed to be crushed… That needed to be diluted with water… He was missing another thing but he could substitute the effect with a spell more than likely…
Stupid woman.
If he could ask for anything, he already knew what it was. To walk beside her. Thankful that he has. Thankful that he could continue to do so. But for someone like him who seemed to invite misfortune anytime he grew close…
…What a terrible fate to doom her with.
Hah. Part of her, vindictive (internal, not to push him too far by laughing in his face,) laughs at the face he makes. Suck on that, bastard. Now you’re stuck with this shitty Master for life. Not even a Chaldea contract. Direct, straight to the bone marrow, to the horrible runes and maladjusted veins. Sucks to be you.
(Bloodied still and ever watchful, her reason may be fuzzed at the edges, but it only makes her words truer, not scrambled and false.)
So her grin is a bit sharp in its softness, something far too aware of consequences. She keeps his gaze. Sophia doesn’t act without thinking (well, she does, as proven by the wound she now possesses) and this is only one example. (It’s not cleaning up impulsive, gushy, emotional bullshit with pragmatic, cold thought. Nope. Not at all.)
“Oh, I’m delirious? Says the one who would have died back there, mister slip in the mud. At least your dogs are smart. They’re good girls. They liiiike me.” It’s teasing that nearly hits too close to the quick, even as her good side’s arm fluffs out dirt clogged, wet hair that makes her look like a mud soaked pomeranian. Her foot tries to kick him, but Keeva laying on it makes that not successful. Traitors.
Sophia understands the give and take, though. (In a way, her give is now his take, and she can give some more to allow it.) “You think this is comfy?!” Fine! One weird, Chaldea issue t-shirt belt strap thing is thrown his way, a wet slapping sound as it falls short of him despite the lack of any real distance. “I’m not the one whose outfit looks like a shitty Halloween costume store slutty druid outfit. At least go to the shitty Samhain costume store! Maybe when you burn it it’ll insult you in your fortune!”
Geez, that just proves she knows about his holidays, doesn’t it? The sulking is lighthearted, even as he comes close. Her head nearly tilts over at the warm touch to her feverish body, runes working overtime to try to return equilibrium and keep their host and vessel alive. The back of her neck feels like a fire, and her heart beats so fast... weird, that her cheeks are heady and hot too, despite a lack of runes there. Weird. Must be nearly dying.
The rummaging through her satchel catches a distant part of her attention. Oh. The ingredients used- her eyes light up.
“Oh, you’re making that...! I asked Fergus if he knew any old...” Sophia’s hand fishes into her shirt collar, ripping the fabric apart with a shaky hand. There, sewn into it, is a chip of juniper wood. A small piece, but- “Having a bit should help, even if it’s not enough, it’ll smooth over having to replace the rest of the ingredient. I have more of the rest if you help me undo the cuffs of these pants, I sewed them in just in case...”
Ignoring that she kept all the ingredients for a celtic healing remedy in her clothing. (Ignoring that a few dried apple blossoms are kept in a pouch literally over her heart. It’s purely practical to keep potion ingredients close to the chest, especially ones a trusted ally could use best.)
hello! this is a brand new roleplay blog for a ritsukaface master oc by the name of leo watanabe. he’s a whole bag of fun (aka huge disaster). please consider giving this post a like / reblog if you would be interested in following!
It’s summer! And as everyone in Chaldea knows, summer is for taking it easy and summer is for parties!
Lately, there’s been a feeling in the air… an excitement, like something great is about to happen, but there haven’t been any notices. Some more supernaturally attuned individuals might feel like they’re being tugged somewhere – not maliciously, simply in invitation, in a charitable and happy youkai inviting them to a party.
After all, what’s a festival without participants! What’s a party without friends to make! A carnival without those to play the games!
Eventually, it becomes concrete, a paper invitation and a certainty in everyone’s minds, somehow:
The Great Festival and the youkai parade is about to begin, and everyone’s invited for a few nights of fun and worry-free revelry! Even Sion and da Vinci confirm there’s no threat to humanity when the Rayshift to get there appears – it really is just a grand party, thrown by the spirits, and Chaldea is all invited, simply for fun.
Come one, come all, to the Demon Parade Festival!
[[ FATE RPC EVENT hosted by originlist, brilliantpride, and caimkairos! Open to all, watch this space for updates and check blog for information! It takes place over July 18th-31st! ]]
originlist:
“I called this because I am a professional. Congrats on being the coolest class, Sophia.”
“A KNIFE ISN’T A SWOOOOOOORD-”
“...I feel like it’s hypocritical that I’m mildly offended, yet here we are. I would have bet Assassin.” ...she’s just offended that she didn’t get to bet.
originlist:
“Toldja she’d be a Berserker. What d’you have to say about them not being the coolest class now, huh? Pony up a solid mil QP, kiddo.” They’re kidding about the last part. / @caimkairos cassie
“MY ONLY SISTER HAS BETRAYED ME?!”
“...” She’s somehow not shocked.
servant origin registered.
Something has broken. It’s a loud noise. The world is a blur in her head. It’s all so loud. It’s all so quiet.