#griefdreamer

[happinessxdelight]

griefdreamer​ liked for a starter!

    Thick, calloused fingers drum against the beaten cover of a book. How to Win Friends and Influence People. He sets it down before continuing to wander, and lets his hands brush over dust and leather. He passes The Prince, The Art of War, The Trial. 1984, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. We’re all mad here. The scent of vanilla flowers and almonds is overpowering, but is that much more exhilarating. Chanyeol appreciates books. They do not exist to judge, to stare, or to mock. Books exist to entertain, to persuade, to teach, to reach far down to the dark parts of your soul that you yourself have forgotten, and speak. Revive. Rejuvenate.

    The saccharine sounds of old paper turning, the near inaudible thump of books being closed and set down. Chanyeol finds his way to more modern novels, where only one other person resides. Shorter than he, but Chanyeol really should stop considering that strange. If anyone, he’s the odd one out. Always has been. He spots American Psycho, Red Dragon, The Simarillion, Norwegian Wood, but his eyes land upon the stranger once more. He’s selfish, observant, curious, a fleeting glance turns into just one more, then two more, until he has to force himself to stop staring. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, right? A plethora of thoughts tumble throughout his mind, but one stands out among them all: who is this man? Chanyeol makes his way to him as discreetly as possible, seemingly preoccupied with used copies of I Have a Right to Destroy Myself. Why he’s doing this, risking his discovery by reaching out to someone that he’s never seen before, why, that’s just how Chanyeol is. Curiouser and curiouser. A deep breath, keeping a steady composure.

    “Lost opportunities, lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back. That's part of what it means to be alive. But inside our heads - at least that's where I imagine it - there's a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our own heart we have to keep on making new reference cards. We have to dust things off every once in awhile, let in fresh air, change the water in the flower vases. In other words, you'll live forever in your own private library.” 

    Did he get that right? God, he doesn’t read enough for this. He just came here to pick up a freakin’ book for his sister.

[dishly]

45, 48, 50

i rly love you guys for this one!  -► development meme: accepting!!!

45. is your character pragmatic? think first? responsible? all action? a visionary? passionate? quixotic?answered!

48. how are your character’s gestures? vigorous? weak? controlled? compulsive? energetic? sluggish?olly makes a lot of hand gestures when he speaks. he feels like he can better express himself that way. on days where it’s sunny or if he’s in a bright room, he is notably more energetic with his movements. and his mood is brighter to go along with it. if it’s gloomy, he’ll be gloomy. his movements will be more weak and sluggish. sometimes he can be quite shy, but if the weather’s good he’ll definitely act more impulsively! he also likes to feel his surroundings. it keeps him grounded. some dust on a windowsill? he’ll collect some of that on his fingertips.

50. what are the prevailing facial expressions? sour? cheerful? dominating?he’s commonly got this curious look on his face. almost straight-faced but with his eyebrows a little raised, mouth slightly agape. mostly because he’s always actually curious about a thing. curious about how you’re feeling. curious about some text on a poster he sees all blurry in the distance. when he’s happy, his teeth show a lot so he covers his mouth unless he’s comfortable around you. even then he might still do it out of habit. when he’s embarrassed he’ll suck his lips into his mouth sometimes. to suppress a nervous laugh or something. maybe wince a little, squint his eyes. he’s a shy little bug.

[takeshies]

39, 42, 44

character solidifying 

39. What do they like to ridicule? What do they find stupid?

answered.

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

He wants to be able to protect his family in any way possible. His loyalty to his family is shown when he gives up his chances to play in the major leagues to be there for his family. He’d risk anything, including his life, to make sure that the vongola continues to prosper. But that aside, he really wants to continue to play baseball, but he won’t ever do so as his main priority is his family.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

His life goals? I think for the time being, all he can really think about is to be strong enough to protect those around him. He couldn’t live with himself if he wasn’t able to safeguard those around him without them having to worry about him or their own safety. So he gets up early in the morning (five or six am at the latest) and works out for about two hours with a one hour session of meditation before another two hours of honing his skills as a swordsman. He ruthlessly trains to keep up with his mind and body, so he often doesn’t snack unless he’s in the company of others (usually when he’s out. He doesn’t have much snacks at home). He’s also getting older, however, so he’s been thinking about settling down with someone but his work keeps him preoccupied. 

[novacanity-blog]

“You make the world a better place just by existing, and the fact that the world I’m talking about happens to be mine doesn’t make you any less extraordinary.”

↳ still accepting for ✗

It’s a blow to the heart, a blow the stomach. Scorn and despair.

Baekhyun knows he means well. His teeth dig into his lip and he smiles unsure seconds later. How he wishes the unease would disappear from the pressure building in his veins. But he has become so well at this, pretending to believe the other’s words. He somehow wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he dared to believe them.

His lips curve upwards, almost pleased by the other’s words. It takes all of his self control to not squeeze the other with affection. It’s been a long time since Baekhyun has heard anything that made him feel good inside, despite his revulsion at his own glee. It’s hard sometimes─ swallowing the feeling of inadequacy on a daily basis, knowing he could be so much more if he shut up and did what people expected of him. It leaves a rotting taste of his tongue, a pressure that is suffocating on his chest and his hands empty. Baekhyun is sure he is just a tiny dot on a universe of so many spectacular stars. It is hard to feel important. Hard to remind himself that he’s entitled to mistakes.

But, there is something festering under his thin layer of skin. The desire to not be human. To not be unbearable. Something celestial. But he throws himself headfirst into his own self hate and holy damnation. He wants to be neighbor of fire, to be not a candle light but a forest fire.  Kindness does not make him gentle or kind. Baekhyun finally speaks. “ Is that so? How kind. ” He doesn’t have the ego or confidence enough to think he is substantial enough to make a dent in anyone’s world. “ Thank you. That is something I needed to hear. ” To ground him. To remind him. Scorn and despair.

[xnsteady-blog]

[ griefdreamer​ ]

Sayaka hoped she wouldn’t need any help in her search for the yakuza the first time she stepped into Seoul’s international airport. Help, more often than not, led to a few setbacks and setbacks only kept her from progressing but there wasn’t much she could do without any ideas in mind to begin with. She needed people who knew the news and rumors surrounding Seoul, if not the whole Korea best. Somebody who, without much effort, remembers all the talks they would hear and she found one -- Kim Jongdae. A freelance writer. He wasn’t a part of the media per se, but so long as he had anything in mind to answer her questions with, then it was all alright. It was all Sayaka needed.

The two sat in the cafe the officer frequented. The smell of coffee beans and sweets coating the whole establishment and if they were to take their seats at the balcony, then the smell of smoke, of cigarette and nicotine would join the mix of strong stench as well but Sayaka opted to spare the man from the poison even if her tongue screamed for the taste of tobacco and her lungs cried for death. A tiny cup of  ristretto is placed on the table they were at, along with a piece of chocolate chip scone and Sayaka gave a lopsided smile as the man finally took his seat before her.

“I hoped you ordered for yourself, I don’t treat people.” Folding the newspaper in her hands and placing it on the empty seat beside her, useless as always as it held no valuable information that could have helped her, Sayaka picked her cup up and took a sip from it; letting the strong taste of espresso coat her tongue until they felt sick enough for her to swallow. “Do you have anything new today? Anything. A member of the senate meeting someone -- anyone shady. It would help me a lot.” 

In Japan, Yakuzas had access to everything. They’ve paid a number of police officers to work for them and turn a blind eye to any illegal trades and it wasn’t far from impossible to believe that they had their hands on the government as well. Fingers wrapped around their necks to keep them from getting too pesky with their activities and controlling the media to hide them from news. 

And It’s exactly because the people who were supposed to work for justice suddenly turned around from their duties that catching them had become too difficult -- and in the rare occasion that they would have enough evidence to catch an organization, the next day, it would “magically” disappear. The people who knew about it suddenly claiming they knew nothing.

Money moved everyone’s heart. Moved even the law itself but Sayaka remained stubborn. She needed no money. And if law can’t do it’s job, then she shall fill in their shoes, ending evil with blood instead.

“And I hope you haven’t spoken to anyone about the lives that were lost so far?”

[necvratu]

{ griefdreamer }

Sitting on a metal chair inside a salad café was one of the least situations Damien thought he’d end up in. Then again, he was willing to do almost and literally anything to get a perfect loophole in catching his prey. He had taken multiple risks, even following one of them near a church and the graveyard, for if he had taken one wrong step and landed on holy ground, another vampire would have exploded and scattered in a million tiny pieces.

The smell of various types of vegetables and salad dressings filled his nose. He wasn’t a big fan of green food, since that was the reason why he was called a carnivore. Having a keen sense of smell did have its cons. To his relief, the boy he had been stalking finally got up, cleaned his table and threw his garbage into a nearby garbage can. Damien hung his head low, trying not to raise and suspicions from the latter.

As he went out of the store, Damien waited a few moments before exiting the establishment, leaving his  Caesar Salad untouched. He kept a far distance in between them, and it was easy to detect the boy even if he had gotten out of sight, since the smell of mayonnaise and cabbage lingered on him. Plus, he was already under Damien’s radar.

He followed him to an apartment complex, one that’s painted off white with great pillars standing near the entrance to support the roof. The place looked fancy, though Damien wondered why someone who was wealthy enough to afford paying rent in such a luxurious residential home would be doing in a salad café instead of feasting on expensive meat at five star restaurants. Humans had weird tastes.

Shadows were his friend, he glided silently from corner to corner, his footsteps producing no sound. Damien stayed behind a potted plant once his victim opened the door to his apartment unit. The vampire sprang into action and ran inside the room, leaving only a rush of cold air as trace.

[lxtent]

🌹 — Starter for griefdreamer

It was an unwritten rule, a habit that had developed into a silent understanding between Leo and the other caffeine addicted regulars that wandered through the doors at similar times. He always took the table in the corner of this particular cafe, safe from prying eyes.  If he didn’t, the owner would feign shock, sadly shaking her head as if disappointed. Granted, it was late - he’d found himself unable to focus in his apartment, nearly tearing his hair out in frustration, and had come here as a last resort. Yet he hadn’t really expected to walk to his usual place and find someone else already there. Someone writing. Leo halted in front of the man, quite and perplexed. Should he... say something? No. Such an immature act would be needlessly confrontational. And yet standing here, without so much as a reason to be doing so, was likely just as bad.

Tearing his gaze away from the scribblings of the unexpected stranger, Leo slid into the seat opposite, dropping his eyes to instead stare at his sketchbook with a purposeful intensity.

[mdpvrk]

[text] Hey, are you up? If you’re not, can you wake up? I need some help.

{ griefdreamer​ }      ;;stranger starters 

Flashing light of mobile blinking oh so obnoxious in hand elicits a whine from throat. He’s fallen asleep with device in hand once more, digits twitching, brushing against smooth surface of screen as he goes to sit up. A dizzy spell of drowsiness hits him, blood rushing toward head too fast and causing a temporary blackness to settle over optics -- another whine escapes. Sheets falling down to waist welcome cold to chest, yawn escaping past as he struggles to unlock device and take in view message sent. With a few blinks granted, Jimin is eventually able to break blurred words, hand raises to push back bangs as he yawns once more, 

[ sms; Jongdae ] I’m awake, for the most part. 

[ sms; Jongdae ] What do you need?

-- at 3 am.  

He’s half tempted to come off a tad rude if not naggy, but refrains, for now at least. Jimin’s curiosity of what may be troubling the other male was getting the best of him.