Vertin

Reverse 1999 brain worms I write sometimes 👎 Sys host. Legal Asks open

[afterthelambs]

When I say "shuake are soulmates" I'm not talking about Yaldobaoth choosing to pit them against each other. What I actually mean is that even before Joker and Akechi met, their souls (personas) already chose each other.

Robin Hood and Loki predate any of the phantom thieves' personas. What is Robin Hood? An honorable thief. Basically a counterpart to Arsene's gentleman thief.

Even more interesting is Loki. The rest of the Thieves only get their persona upgraded to a 'mythological trickster' upon their second awakening. From a purely gameplay perspective, you spend time with Joker's friends in order to give them stronger personas (grind and reward).

But Loki is known as a trickster god in Norse mythos. He is already a mythological trickster. From the beginning, Akechi was already what Joker needed him to be.

And then there's Arsene, who is so blatant that he's the reason I clocked shuake's soulmatism from the moment Joker awoke him (literally in kamoshida's palace I figured Joker would meet a detective rival in the story). Basic Arsene Lupin lore is that the character was written by author Maurice Leblanc as the 'French response' to Sherlock Holmes (for copyright reasons it's herlock sholmes).

Arsene exists because of Sherlock. So of course Joker is so obsessed with Akechi in-canon. That's literally what his soul is built for.

There's another layer to this.

The name "Goro Akechi" is inspired by the Japanese detective character "Kogoro Akechi" written by Japanese author Edogawa Ranpo (this is also the reason I clocked akechi as the rival the moment he introduced himself, I did my time in the BSD fandom). Kogoro Akechi is a detective character heavily inspired from Sherlock Holmes.

Edit: Forgot to mention that Kogoro Akechi's most infamous rival in the novels is named Kaijin or 'fiend/strange person' (originally Kaito Niju Menso, or Phantom Thief with Twenty Faces). Ranpo based that character on Arsene Lupin.

So Joker's soul is a thief character written to rival Sherlock Holmes, while Akechi's name comes from a detective character written to emulate Sherlock Holmes. Alone, they are incomplete. They've been searching for each other from the very beginning.

Joker and Akechi are fully soulmates, regardless of evil gods using them as pawns. No one else matches to the degree that they do, no one is as entwined as they are. Nothing had to trigger or evolve for this to happen either. They were just made for each other.

[emb4lmr]

Hello Shuake nation

[say0ranarts]

a sentimental fool.

[emb4lmr]

Hello Shuake nation

[shrimpribs1]

lust

[xcoffeehouses]

Modern janka au but they both like sleep token and that’s it that’s the au and I am projecting that I like sleep token

[saberpolaris]

🦈🌹

[auqroix]

"Schneider"

[xcoffeehouses]

When did you get hot?

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Many Housewardens show up to support their dormmates in their extracurriculars, and Riddle was no different, sitting in the stands next to Deuce and Kalim. A good housewarden shows up for the people he leads and cheers them on; it's only right that he does. Between Deuce's cheers and the gym floor squeaks, Riddle realizes something while watching the ball go from player to player. Has Floyd Leech always been that hot?

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

I write sometimes 👎 the brainworms turned into Floyd Leech brainworms, happy English voice cast announcement

︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶ ୨୧ ︶ ֢ ⏝ ֢ ︶

Riddle never understood sports much; it wasn't a part of his mother’s curriculum, and was deemed a useless hobby by her. Of course, that doesn't mean Riddle doesn’t go to support his freshmen. Every game, Riddle sat between Deuce and Kalim, each cheering loudly for Ace and Jamil, respectively, at every moment. Frankly, Riddle found them both louder than the game itself. He never really understood basketball, despite the many times Deuce had explained what was going on to him; he never got it, not in the way he understood horses or his studies or magic. 

There were a few things about basketball that Riddle understood: no one could hold the ball, occasionally there were free throws, and Night Raven College usually does pretty well. That is to say, Riddle usually cheers when Deuce and Kalim do, hoping that he is doing it correctly, as it would be terribly embarrassing to see the housewarden of Heartslabyul cheer for the wrong team. 

Riddle doesn’t often pay attention to that of Floyd Leech; in fact, he tries everything he can to ignore the eel to avoid being chased or squeezed randomly. However, it was during a time out that Riddle had finally paid attention to the teal-haired eel, his eyes floating to the taller man as he wiped sweat using the edge of his shirt. Riddle’s eyes wandered to Floyd’s arms, covered in sweat, and even from the stands, Riddle could see the definition within them. Those were the same arms that fought with Riddle every day; the same arms that held Riddle’s library books in the air and chased after him to squeeze him. So, when was it exactly that those very arms became so… hot?

By the time Riddle came to his senses, the timeout was over, and the action resumed; this time, however, Riddle’s eyes were unwittingly drawn towards a certain eel dominating the floor. Was it that Riddle never got a full look at him before? Or perhaps, in previous encounters, the housewarden was too annoyed with Floyd’s antics to notice? 

Was the gymnasium always this hot? Or was it just Riddle? Watching the game, he stared at the outline of Floyd’s muscles peeking through his basketball jersey, the bone and muscle aligning the eel’s clavicle; the way it connects to the sternum should not be as well defined as it is. Riddle mentally took note of the way the sweat lined Floyd’s body, the way his eyebrows furrowed while taking a free throw, the way his hands lazily tossed the ball around.

This was the same man who bothered Riddle daily, the same man who was annoying to Riddle, the very same man who squeezed him, yelling “GOLDFISHIE” every time he saw the red-headed housewarden. So what happened? When in the world did Floyd Leech get so hot all of a sudden? How could a complete and total nuisance look like that?

Multiple times did Riddle try to avert his eyes, to look at something, anything other than the teal eel. He was here to support his dormmate and yet couldn't take his eyes off Floyd. Riddle stole glances at Floyd almost every moment, taking in the toned and defined body that the eel had before silently reprimanding himself for doing so. He wondered if he would be able to look more closely or even feel the definition himself. It would be a good practice for his anatomy class, wouldn't it?

Great seven, what were these thoughts? All things considered, Riddle should not be thinking about using his classmate as an anatomy study, or how he should take more notice when the eel squeezes him to feel for the definition in his arms. Really, Riddle shouldn't think about these things, and especially, he should not be thinking about how good Floyd looks while playing basketball. That should NEVER cross the Heartslabyul housewarden’s mind. 

Riddle finally came to his full senses as the buzzer for halftime rang, his face noticeably red as the temperature in his cheeks rose. Safe to say, Riddle would not survive another half of this game, especially not with a certain eel still actively playing. In fact, he believed he would barely survive class tomorrow, or any form of activity Floyd finds him doing. 

[xcoffeehouses]

[xcoffeehouses]

post animal

The beast

[kennelscollective-deactivated20]

Post animal

[xcoffeehouses]

Candid Ghosts

I write sometimes 👎

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They say ghosts have attachments to the activities they did before death, and this was no different for a ghost like Click. To him, it was a passion, an art form, a way to tell others what was going on, whether in the middle of a war or otherwise. Click has learned by now he can't take the same “perfect picture” he had once pursued until death. So, in the way that one would switch out film for a new roll, Click changed the trajectory of his photographic passions to something a bit more manageable, candid photography.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

 Click was practical in his approaches to his photography; he never needed to replace his camera. Even when Horropedia gave him a modern Canon camera did the gift simply sit as a paperweight on Click’s nightstand. His room was more of a photography studio than an actual bedroom, a darkroom full of chemicals and undeveloped film that the ghost frequently comes in and out of, dropping off film and developing it before leaving and continuing his photography journey.

This doesn’t mean the finished film stays in the darkroom; however, they usually end up being distributed about the suitcase, albeit in an odd way. Pockets full of his work, Click usually wandered the suitcase in search of his next project, his next muse for his art. He often started in the main areas of the suitcase, dining rooms, and living areas, leaving a trail of pictures in his wake.

A picture of Anjo Nala at her last impromptu performance fell to a couch, a photo of Sotheby and Druvis III engrossed in conversation lay flat against the hallway floor. It wasn't uncommon to find Click’s work whilst walking about the suitcase, many pictures found in frequently populated areas, often of other people. It could be a bit unnerving at times for those new to Click’s passions. Isolde had often reported to Vertin that she was being watched and stalked, only for the timekeeper to find it was only Click who thought Isolde talking to Kakania would be a perfect subject for his camera. 

Click never means harm by his pictures; a ghost like him understands the common decency of not photographing intimate moments between two, and he knows better than to make someone look bad in a picture. He simply enjoyed his work and wanted to capture everyone to the best of his ability. 

However, that doesn't mean there aren't people who Click simply struggles to capture under the lens, Pavia and Zima often elude the ghost, his attempts often coming out into blurry pictures in a bigfoot-esque manner. Click keeps trying at it, however, if not for the love of the work, then for the peace that reaches Click’s mind with each snap of the camera, with each flash of light is gone once painful war memories. 

Click loved taking pictures; photography and documenting were among his favorite activities in the suitcase. He was often asked to take pictures of parties or shows that the more musically or theatrically inclined would put on. He often took pictures of people outside, Regulus and X fighting over a Goldberg machine X tried to build in the wilderness. He saw Pickles rolling around in the grass when no one was watching. He would see Kakania walking with Isolde, as she does every day. 

Click liked to document the real lives of the people around him; everyone was his muse in a way, and he liked it that way. It was spontaneous and yet peaceful. For a ghost that spent his entire life searching for the perfect picture, he now found peace in the imperfections that came with his work. He now loved the blurry photos of Horropedia catching him trying to take a picture, he loved the awkward pictures of Vertin talking to someone, the pictures of Regulus, Sotheby, and Matilda trying to toss Druvis III’s shoe up to the tree she was sitting in. Click loved every moment in the suitcase; he felt alive with every snap of the camera in a way he never felt when he was doing war journalism.

Click was glad to be able to continue his passions, even if he keeps accidentally scaring others when he accidentally leaves pictures around. Truly, click loves the suitcase; in all his life, he had never felt this at peace. For a war ghost, this was the best life, this was his passion, this was HIS life. 

[xcoffeehouses]

Aqua Regia

I write sometimes 👎 isokania inspired by sleep token song

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Being an unofficial doctor of the mind gives you many insights into how the mind thinks, how it processes, and understands stimuli in its environment. All minds except for the doctor herself. A doctor's work allows you to ignore the thoughts corroding your mind and ignore the wants and desires, the gold in blood. 

Isolde von Dittarsdorf was a name that stayed on Klara’s lips constantly, a thought corroding her mind, and yet she loved such pain. Klara’s work allowed her the liberty to ignore the musings of her true thoughts; they would be pushed to the side in favor of whomever she may be working with. And yet, she couldn't understand why she couldn't fully rid herself of Isolde, why even now, in the suitcase, she finds herself yearning. The desire was animalistic at times, paining her with how much she wanted, no, needed Isolde. Klara, however, would never bring herself to admit it, to give in to the screaming in her veins, to just reach out, to even say hello. 

Toxic as it may be, corrosive as it may be, Klara ignored Isolde at every turn; it pained her to hear Isolde’s tears and cries for just one word, but Klara knew she couldn't give in. Klara lived for the rush Isolde gave her. Isolde was the gold in her veins, and every drop of it gave her a rush like never before. She yearned for Isolde, needed her beyond something her doctor's mind could ever comprehend. 

It was never easy to ignore the pain in her heart Isolde brought; it was harder to ignore the feelings Isolde gave her. The times Klara spoke with the Viennese brought her a mix of emotions: serotonin, oxytocin, and adrenaline all together in a mixing bowl that tortures her at the same time as bringing her a rush of desire. The feelings destroyed the gold that was Klara’s every rational thought. And yet, Klara couldn't get enough of the feeling; she lived for and breathed for Isolde despite her refusals.

Isolde took up her every thought; she took up her colors, her animals, her books, anything her mind could think of to relate to the Viennese went back to her. She felt every breath belonged to Isolde and her only, the world shone just for her, and she felt like rain in the morning. 

It takes everything for Klara not to give in; she refuses the change that would bring with Isolde knowing her desires, she fears the monster that would awaken the day Klara gives in. She feels like an animal caged in, knowing she holds the enclosure key in her hand but fearing the love she holds for Isolde; how it would corrode, corrupt her. Every breath from Isolde, every word and every step, every note sung from that heavenly voice made Klara falter in her composed manner.

Isolde was like a goddess to her, the sun of her days and akin to icarus she could never reach it. Klara could never have enough of Isolde, everything about her gave Isolde thoughts and feelings she knows she could never shake. Isolde was the blood in her veins, the gold in her body, the unreachable love between life and death, locked in an ether she knew how to reach but couldnt bring herself to do it. 

She knew eventually she would need to give in, desires can not sit untouched for too long, Klara knew that fact well. One day she would have to start listening to the alarm bells and stop fighting her desires, stop fighting Isolde von Dittarsdorf. She would eventually run to her love.

[chorige]

ハートの日 ハットの日

2025年版

フロリド

[amzblu]

[xcoffeehouses]

I am a huge Clickpedia fan fork found in kitchen