❝It is all right, child. I will help y–❞
*Stab!*
❝Agh! …………….! Wha– Why…❞
The monk fell as he could see the darkness taking over him…
but he heard footsteps coming in his way. He notes it was… a
ghoul. He can feel her hands pressing on his wound. It hurt like
hell, but he’s suffocating… and it hurts so much. He’s not ready
to die. Not yet.
❝–yuta! Nahyuta… Nahyuta! Stay with me!
I-I got you! Y-You’re going to be alright!
HEEEEELP! I NEED HELP, PLEASE!❞
The screams of her voice echoed the hallways in the temple…
❝Ack!– Grr!❞
❝Wh-What on earth was that, you– you shady gray face?!❞
❝What are you scared of, gray face?
May I see your face? The Holy Mother
will not seek guidance if you can’t show
your face to me…❞
㋡ which icon of them that mun has is their favorite? which one do they never want to see mun use again or ever?
❝My dear brother’s lover has this icon as one of her favorites.
She is actually intrigued with the butterfly. She told me she
was starting to make as many icons of me as she can, though
I find it odd she “edits” them with my form… ❞
❖ do they like the layout of mun’s rp blog? what would they change about it?
❝Of course I do! She said, “As long as it’s simple,
it’s easy for me!”. If that made her happy, then I’m
glad she’s doing herself well…❞
❝“Make out”? –! Hmph, you mean this?❞
………………………………….
…………………………. *kiss!*
❝… Heh, you tasted sweet, my dear panda…❞
❝The cicada is a siren to the Holy Mother
during the hot summer days. He deserves
to be a stinky bug because he is a screamer
from hell...❞
❝Heh heh heh. I say names cruelly to others who
oppose to the Holy Mother. He, on the other hand,
deserve to be reborn as either a red pepper or a stink
bug for his ridiculous bluffs… Perhaps it was his style
of his chocolate brown hair that made me thought of him
as a stink bug…❞
The monk was working with the case file,
and praying to his Holy Mother, the trial he’ll
face tomorrow with Apollo Justice, will bring
truth to Her. As Ema is in the crime scene, he
on the other hand, is in his office. He opened
his eye as he saw a porcelain mug, sitting on
top of the pairing saucer with the smell of
cinnamon and chamomile, in front of him.
He figured… it was Her Benevolence,
Rayfa, who brought his warm beverage…
❝Ah yes, Your Benevolence… That’s
peace milk, isn’t it? Thank you for
bringing it here, but… is something
the matter? You look uneasy…❞
My
museboyfriend’s foster brother is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it. | accepting!
(………………. Your Benevolence…)
❝… Your Benelovence… I’m so sorry
about Prosecutor Sahdmadhi…❞