" i curse you with sleep " ( at 2am, after i'd been awake since 5am the previous day, and had been out gallivanting in so many energy-consumptive ways ) has got to be one of the most offensive things moss has ever said to me /j
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" i curse you with sleep " ( at 2am, after i'd been awake since 5am the previous day, and had been out gallivanting in so many energy-consumptive ways ) has got to be one of the most offensive things moss has ever said to me /j
👫 for the relationship hcs ♡
ㅤㅤ𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗣 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦ㅤ|ㅤ@vessmarㅤ| ㅤaccepting!
we lightly touched on this, but i genuinely think håkan learns a lot from vesper regarding mechanics and engineering. he is extremely fascinated by how differently vess thinks when considering inventions and explorations, and i can see vess slowly becoming someone that håkan comes to first when he has a new idea. also, håkan tends to shut himself inside his forge when he is highly focused on a new project, but vess would be one of the few people with a spare key to come in whenever! he values his opinion and input a great deal, but i think the moment his eyes sparkle the most is when vess challenges him to think outside the box. even if sometimes håkan may be too stubborn to see it any other way. he will gruff and try to prove himself right, but he knows when to concede. i can 100% see vess smiling silently and knowingly whenever that happens, like. he doesn't even need to say anything. håkan will babble on how yes, yes, he is right, fine, fine!
i can see the two of them being early birds. håkan wakes up early so he can go on flights with toothless, look over berk and check to see if the village is in need of anything. maybe because of anthi, vess also wakes up early? this is a tiny detail, but imagining them becoming early stroll buddies is so cute. the peacefulness of it all, y'know??
håkan absolutely adores anthi, and this may be self-indulgent, but i'd love to believe that anthi adores him, too! every now and then, håkan will offer to babysit her so that vess can do his own thing, or when vesper needs to travel, etc. anthi probably told a lot of vess' "secrets" (i.e, vess' favourite foods or how he sometimes snores when he sleeps, etc) to håkan, and håkan will absolutely take those to his grave. she maaaaay or may not know a few secrets from the chieftain, too.
they are both huge gift-givers and smiths at heart, right? so you know something adorable that i can think of? sometimes, whenever they buy new materials, they will divide them in half, select a theme, and try to woo the other with their inventions. a mini smithing competition challenge, so to speak! anthi had to judge who made the best birdhouse or kitchen tools a couple of times. i don't think either of them would be too competitive and take it too seriously, but gods, the thrill of wondering what the other will think of? so exhilarating!
@vessmar -- ;
The furious roaring of the Fire Demon within the halls of the Memory Zone and its frenzied stampeding clashed furiously within the narrow hallway that it charged down. Its umbrageous hide pulsed with violet light that glowed ominously in the lurid surreal blues whilst its maw gaped with thousands of teeth. Clear's own Memobeasts surged from the walls and rammed into the Fire Demon, smashing through the walls with fangs latched around the demon's neck. Debris rained from the ceiling as a discordant hum of unstable Memoria leaking from the breached wall. The wolfish, demonic snarling of the Memobeasts grappling savagely echoed as the booming of their clashing trashed whatever semblance of a room was inside, plumes of dust and debris sourcing from the destroyed room.
Clear watched from afar, bowed over with exhaustion. Constance. With the power to communicate from the past to the present, she had found him. Just one of the chaos butterflies of a group that was promising to destroy Penacony--
The Memokeeper yelped when he suddenly fell through the floor, landing hard on mirror-shining marble and to the startled wave of people who scattered from the dance floor, briskly sidestepping him as Clear grunted and staggered to his feet. Though there were gawkers, it was silently written off; after all, this was a Dream and anything could happen. That, and being in a Memory Zone made a Memetic Entity have to consciously choose to make themselves invisible.
Huffing, Clear retreated to one of the wings of the expansive ballroom, praying he didn't attract too much attention.
God damn those pyro freaks. He was so goin' to take them down!
"What? Never seen a guy fall through the ceiling before?" Clear said archly to the man closest to him, who was pretty sure he had been staring.
“ if i asked you not to leave… would it change anything? ”
( to cor ♡ )
@vessmar.
this wasn’t the first time vesper had asked something like this, every half century or so when the chasm between them seemed as if a small fissure instead, hiding the very cracks that would be their downfall. corazon had never attempted to hide her future endeavours, to tuck in her next travel brochures or save packing to the very last second. she had always made it painfully apparent that she would leave, and that her will to stay was always a waning, ephemeral thing. it had never been spite, or disdain for the idea, or even a lack of budding love that pushed her from the promise of something that was almost solid, almost real and warm, and something to call her home, but the same instinct to not touch the paint before it dried, to not touch a pan before it was too hot, to not hurt herself in her eagerness.
“ it would change me. ” for the worse.
this ramshackle house was on a lease. she knew by nature it was not big enough to house vess’ ambitions, the whispers of inspiration she saw in his small tinkering projects. the entire place was ill fitting, fleeting, much like her own nature. there was not enough room to grow here, even if what was here and now was nice ; being in vesper’s bed with his arms wrapped ‘round her, fingers running soothing patterns over her ribs and stomach. she could get used to this, but not here. cor would not settle for what she considered to be an imperfect fit.
“ - but it wouldn’t change you. ”
and anyone could have taken that the wrong way, and would. part of corazon hoped that vesper would take it the wrong way, that he needed to change who he was at his own core in order to appease her when that wasn’t the case. whatever potential they both had could be squandered by accepting things before they were ready. vess was too unsteady, and cor was too volatile. any attempt to cage her in would result in an implosion, any loving hand too desperate with their grip, a choking vice she’d break her own neck struggling away from. so no, not quite yet. some part of her wished he would stop waiting, while the other half knew that if he didn’t it was never ever meant to be.
such was the tragedy of the right person at the wrong time.
“ … and i don’t want to be the reason that you stop changing, vesper. ”
types of yearning. ( accepting. )
"there are two types of people who like to kill from a distance: cowards and pros. in my experience, both are dangerous."
//pspsps corazon come get your boytoy, he's very thinly referencing his chem-fucking, poison-sucking, bomb-happy brother again
@vessmar.
“ oh, i love it when you shittalk. even if it is about your funny rat-like brother. ”
they’ve shared an extensive list of killing methods by now. after knowing vesper for a few centuries humans tended to become predictable. the ones who acted on instinct were the most predictable, fear and crimes of passion made people sloppy, and there was very little flair, no art, to the act of butchering. vesper had no qualms about throwing his brother to the wolves and her response was chime-like laughter. she revelled in the moments vess revealed about himself, or his background, however unintentionally. that his brother used to fight like that, that he - himself - didn’t. all fascinating little factoids she’d keep for later. she swivelled her bar stool so crossed knees faced him more directly, leaning forward with a playful glint in golden eyes.
“ i can kill from a distance. which one am i, baby ? ”
is 19 too many, asking for a friend
" you've technically only ticked off eighteen, if that helps. " he couldn't say he was surprised, especially knowing most of these answers were put here as deterents, and still vesper would pursue. and still, he found himself charmed regardless. " let's get coffee. "
bingo ! ( accepting. )
@vessmar asked : "you look peaceful when you're meditating - and so still. you're a perfect subject to do studies of." vesper twirled his pencil between his fingers, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. the art had gotten the better of him, hunched over his small sketchbook, two pages dedicated to rough estimations of ren's features. silver wolf would have a week of material with which to make fun of vess, were she here to see it. a wry smile flitted over his lips. "not to mention you're easy on the eyes. kafka's styled you well. what goes through your head when you're unmoving for so long?"
vesper spoke a lot more than initial reactions would let him believe. not enough to be annoying, but enough to exceed expectation. it was either that or he felt the pressure to fill in the spaces between them when unbothered by someone more talkative. it wouldn’t have been the first time that people had been unsettled with ren’s silences, his ‘ eerie ’ stares, his inability to tell whether the space between them had become awkward or not. after all, it had long since fallen out of his capacity to care whether he was making people uncomfortable. if there had been awkwardness, ren didn’t acknowledge it until the talking became unbearable.
he made statements. statements were often standalone. responses weren’t necessary so he often left them that way. he’d been been in the habit of letting people make their own assumptions about him, even before he was the unnamed, even before he had died that first, painful death. meditation was often used on the xianzhou to keep the mara away, but in ren’s case it was an attempt to control it, to wrestle it into submission without the help of kafka’s spirit whisper. what made it flare to an almost unimaginable degree was often the suppression of it, the act of pushing it away, not allowing those feelings to be processed and felt. meditation in a quiet controlled area allowed the mara to flow freely, to feel it, to accept it, to let it die. but the answer came much simpler than that, and in the most concise way he could muster : “ pain. ” he replied, simply, but in such a way that almost sounded serene.
crimson eyes roved over the sketches atop the notebook, able to make out the vague lines of his own features. he didn’t often make a habit of looking into mirrors for too long, but he wasn’t dismissive of vesper’s comments about his appearance either. yingxing had been beautiful, he remembered being arrogant about it. he had trouble mustering up any reaction to it though. his face was only as useful as what it made other people feel, whether he could use it to his advantage or not. vesper keeps more of those expressions in his own eyes than he realises, and once aware, returns his countenance to stone once more. it’s purposeful, he finds, at least around ren, who has always had issues mustering these expressions in the first place.
ren jerked his head in the direction of the notebook. “ did you get what you wanted ? ”
[ snarl ] vess growling and baring his teeth at dan heng during sex.
spicy muse reaction prompts.