#and then started seeing status effects instantly

[reijnders]

Some stuff on Bajoran writing, along with a sneak peek of the grammar I'll be posting on Friday!

In my own lore for DS9, Bajorans were practically in the middle of sorting out a syllabary for themselves when the Cardassians came in and messed everything up, so the current syllabary is patched together from collective memory, hidden documents(clay tablets), and filled in partially with logograms. Since I wanted it to feel like they were still working on recovering from the Occupation, some sounds aren't represented at all yet, while others are substituted with logograms.

Under the cut is a small vocab list, and a refresher on the basic IPA and phonetic rules of the language.

As stated before, Bajoran glyphs are originally written with a wooden stylus, a diagonal straight edge on one end, and a curved C shape on the other. I kept these shapes in mind when designing each glyph, along with what sounds I wanted to be more common to dictate which symbols may have been lost.

[cherienymphe]

Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

~

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

 It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

[moonshynecybin]

The current motogp grid is put into the hunger games who is winning?

so easily marc it is NOT even funny.... as babynflames has said if he got trapped in a situation where he needed to lop off a limb and it wouldnt effect his riding he'd get that done instantly np. he is insane he loves winning he EASILY compartmentalizes his other competitors as obstacles that he will shove aside in REAL LIFE let alone fictional hunger games world. hes taking it i fear. but he WILL come out the other side deeply scared both mentally and physically... maybe he DOES have to lop off his arm and they give him a prosthetic but sometimes it aches at night and he shivers...

anyways yaoi alert below the cut for those interested:

its the all-victor QUARTER QUELL where shit gets saucy in my opinion! vale as a fellow mentor... a well-liked victor that marc idolized as a kid who's been paraded around like a pony ever since... known for how fun (read: not fun comma scarring) his games were (vale was like 17 fuck ass bob big neon yellow tribute uniform internally screaming desperately playing to the cameras to survive. maybe won by doing equal parts looney tunes style pranks and his absolute ruthless efficiency with a blade.)

so him and marc see each other once a year for a few weeks around the games (similar to motogp they DO have to continually revisit the places they were most traumatized every year huh) and start a lil smth... gravitate towards each other when theyre both trapped in the capitol... wake up in each others beds most mornings and share looks across tables when the capitol socialites start soliloquizing... but they know cant do any more than that bc theyre in different districts (also: trauma.) so they keep it as casual as they can, even if marc's breath catches in his chest sometimes when vale looks at him, and when vale wakes up at home its with an arm reaching over the place in his bed he knows marc should be... and the capitol maybe doesnt know theyre fucking but IS certainly selling the friendship between two of its most popular victors to the cameras HARD... it is known that they tend to chat. it has been noted that they giggle. the panopticon has noticed the marc-being-a-weirdo-in-press-conferences stare.

anyways so the quell hits and marc gets reaped along with vale (who has been quietly supporting rebellious activity for years... gathering strength and numbers.... talking to the other aliens... using his icon status to sway the districts... ) and vale KNOWS the capitol will use marc against him. knows that they know he cares about him. knows that theyre doing this to get rid of them both—keep him in line. (actually in this scenario maybe marc pulled a katniss berry move to keep both him and alex alive. accidental revolutionary icon lol) and keeping marc close will only make the capitol try even harder to kill him which he cant STAND. and all marc knows is that suddenly vale pulls away hard, cold and abrupt. starts talking madddd shit about him in all of his interviews and press... and marc thinks vale is doing it to hype himself up to kill him in the arena and it KILLS him... he thought he was in tragic star crossed love... but he also keeps trying to convince himself he can bring himself to do the same when the time comes, even if it feels like a hole in his chest.... he has to get back to alex. so its awfullllllll until they get in the arena and (INSERT CATCHING FIRE PLOT WHERE THEY BUST TF OUTTA THERE...) and when marc wakes up, blinking and pale and groggy and without his prosthetic, vale is holding his hand by his bedside. and in a low, hoarse voice he starts to explain....

[emeraldtart]

Hey there, been awhile. Just wanted to ask if you could do another post on Gold Watcher!Yuu. I kind of just want to know what their relationships with the dorm leaders are? Like do they get along with one of them the best? Do they avoid a certain dorm leader for some reason or another? Is it a one sided fear relationship? Just wondering if you're up to write again for this version of Yuu.

Sure thing!

So all the dorm leaders were wary of Yuu (except of Kalim of course because, he's, well, Kalim) at first, because they have no idea what the heck they are and what the mirror said when Crowley tried to send them back.

Riddle Rosehearts

I'm pretty sure there's a rule about statues in the QOH Rulebook.

Riddle was wary of Yuu because his Unique Magic doesn't seem to affect them, as their magic came from a different source than Twisted Wonderlandian magic.

Although, after his Overblot Riddle appreciates them for their good manners.

Yuu sometimes help out with preparing for any Heartslabyul events, as they are quite used to prepare events that Lord Malak does sometimes with the Reaper Nurses.

Leona Kingscholar

Probably started off the worst with GW!Yuu, as they're made of gold they almost flatten his tail.

Also, since Yuu is from hell/limbo/realm of the dead, Leona can't help but feel a chill when they're near.

Since Yuu is a sort of psychopomp being created by Malak to catch people like Doug and bring them to him, I think to beastmen, fae and merfolks their presence felt like death knocking on their door.

But over time their presence blends in to the world, giving said students time to adjust to them being there.

Back to Leona, he doesn't mind them at all. Although he does have to ask Yuu not to give Ruggie any of their countless karat axes because good lord they're going to kill the economy in Twisted Wonderland.

Azul Ashengrotto

Looks at Yuu and thinks, "It's free real estate,"

But he won't get any of them because Leona said no and Crowley prohibits any distribution of Yuu's axes.

And don't even think of picking them up because they'll all dissappear after a day or so.

Anyway, Yuu might help Azul with the accounting aspect of Monstro Lounge. They've been doing the job of keeping track of the gold at the Watchers' Mansion for centuries, as they sometimes snatch whatever valuables the intruders left when they die.

Bonus: Floyd tries to squeeze Yuu but ending up hurting himself instead. Doesn't mean he'll stop it.

Kalim Al-Asim

Was very curious about Yuu and wonders how they're a statue that could move.

Instantly regrets it when Yuu tells them where Gold Watchers come from.

But anyway, Yuu would like Kalim for his riches, but slightly dislike his naivety for giving them away.

Of course, their dislike is heavily out weighted due to Kalim's personality.

They can't eat anything in the banquets Kalim threw, but his presence makes them feel full nevertheless.

Vil Schoenheit

Yuu likes to hang out at Pomefiore dorms, reminded them of home.

Vil just accepts Yuu's existence because... There isn't really any guide on what to do with a living statue that also happens to be your fellow student.

Vil probably attempts to put makeup on Yuu out of curiosity.

He ends up doing special effects make-up instead.

Yuu enjoys it, they look like stone now.

Time to do chaos >:)

Idia Shroud

Idia was roaming around school, trying to get his package that arrived that evening that he overlooked.

When somebody greets him from behind and he sees a smiling statue staring at him with hollow eyes.

He passed out on the spot, got a free ride on Charon's boat, pet Cerberus, said hi to Hades and Persephone, before being sent back to the world of the living.

When he came to be, Ortho said that the prefect of Ramshackle came to Ignihyde and put him on bed. Also, there's a tart there with a note saying sorry.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus probably noticed them when Yuu was pretending to be a regular statue.

He was admiring them out loud when they heard Yuu snickering, saying it's been a while since someone complimented them, but the first time someone compliment their more statue features.

They leapt off from the pedestal, and before you know it they started to talk the night away.

Malleus is a dragon, so he maybe mentally claims Yuu into his horde.

He'd be one of the very few who are allowed to keep Yuu's axe.

Yuu gave it for his birthday because they don't know what to go to Malleus.

[scoops-aboy86]

I imagine that if Eddie could do magic, he would (as a young teen and therefore a dumbass with a poor grasp of the possible repercussions) try to cast a love spell to make Steve fall in love with him. It's the start of his sophomore year; Steve is just an incoming freshman who no one's really noticed yet, but Eddie is instantly smitten with the impeccable hair, the soulful hazel eyes, and that cute dazed look on his face he gets whenever surprised.

Does he dare even try to talk to Steve? No. Eddie already has zero social standing as a weird nerd who lives in a trailer park and Cannot Sit Still to save his life—which on other people would make them funny class clown material, but for some reason on him makes teachers angry and classmates roll their eyes. Just talking to Steve, Eddie is sure, would be a disaster. And even if he could, chances are Steve is straight and at best Eddie would eventually get punched in the face for admitting his feelings for the other boy.

So. Witchcraft. Chant chant chant, a possession of Steve's dropped in a bubbling cauldron, a blown out candle, and boom.

Only Eddie muffed the spell. Instead of Steve falling in love with Eddie, everyone falls in love with Steve. The spell isn't even strong enough to cause obvious problems; all the girls want him, all the boys want to be him, but there aren't, like, mobs forming over the guy's affection (or lack thereof). Eddie resigns himself to (a) being shitty at magic and (b) never getting Steve.

From Steve's perspective, his whole life changed overnight. Suddenly he's on the map at Hawkins High in a big way. He makes varsity basketball as a freshman, and at the same time is allowed to join the swim team despite the conflicting schedules. Girls are falling over themselves to go out with him. And it's great!

For a while. In some ways.

It gets him his parents' approval right up until November of 1983, when he starts to realize that maybe he hasn't really learned how to build a real relationship with someone, because all he knows is dates falling into his lap and girls looking for the social status that comes with bagging King Steve. That prowess on the basketball court doesn't mean very much when monsters crawl out of the walls and all he has to hand is a baseball bat full of nails. That a girl died in his pool because of a party he threw and him and his friends doing stupid teen shit like shotgunning beers. That the friends he's had since he became King Steve are, actually, pretty much all assholes.

After that first brush with the Upside Down, Steve stops trying to be popular. He stops throwing house parties, drops swimming, stops funding the basketball team's beer and weed purchases, and really tries (with Nancy's help) to buckle down and study.

But the spell is still in effect, so even with all that, everyone still wants a piece of him. He still goes to parties, and whenever Nancy isn't free to tag along there are always girls trying to hang off him, no matter how many times he reminds them that he's already seeing someone. Eventually he gives up, and while he doesn't cheat (he might have dated around a lot, but never with overlap; he is not his dad) he stops putting in the effort to shoo them away.

(Eddie, meanwhile, watches all of this from the sidelines and kind of hates the person he thinks Steve is now. He's not entirely wrong, because the popularity did go to Steve's head for a long time, and there are plenty of ways in which Steve's really isn't a better person for it. But Eddie also isn't close enough to see who he's trying to become now, and he's also still a little bitter in nursing his own bruised heart.)

After breaking up with Nancy and falling in with the Party, Steve starts to get even more frustrated with his lingering popularity. The rest of his senior year is still all girls fawning over him and guys being jealous (sometimes with a nasty edge to it now, like Tommy and Billy). On top of the nightmares left over from encounters with demogorogons and demodogs, it really brings out Steve's bitchy side. He stops dating, stops going to parties, stops trying to achieve in his classes in favor of coasting (and hating that all his teachers let him do it, while picking on kids like Eddie who are actively trying and just not very good at it).

One day, Eddie finds King Steve at the picnic table in the woods, looking to buy weed. Steve doesn't bat an eye when super-senior Munson names his price (double what he usually charges, but it's not like Steve has ever bought directly from anyone before so it's not like he'd know), and says that if it helps him sleep he'll start buying regularly.

Suddenly, Steve is in a slightly better mood at school all the time. He still brushes pretty much everyone off and only hangs out with middle schoolers, but he's nicer about it.

And he starts going to parties again. But he doesn't dance, and he doesn't drink all that much. A lot of the time he doesn't even stick around very long. He'll turn up and people watch, bopping his head in time with the music if it's a song he likes, and park himself by whatever food the party has to offer. Chips, popcorn, the occasional pizza—nothing extensive, most of the kids who come to these parties are there for the booze and the makeout opportunities. Sometimes Steve buys from Eddie if he's there, offers to share joints with him that Eddie, still wary, turns down. When the food runs out, Steve leaves.

See, the weed definitely helps him sleep. It also gives him the munchies, and Steve has sort of gotten into the habit of just... eating. It's not like his parents are around to notice, and Dustin and the other kids don't care as long as he springs for extras so they can have some too. No one at school would dare say it to his face, and somehow it still doesn't manage to fully tank his slightly flagging reputation, but Steve is definitely starting to put on weight.

Then he graduates, and... nothing. King Steve drops off the map.

For everyone except Eddie, anyway, because Steve still buys. And Eddie has started to relax his no-smoking-with-Steve policy lately. Between the weed and the public eye no longer pinning him in a spotlight, Steve has become an incredibly chill dude. He doesn't even mind that he didn't get into any of the colleges he applied to (or any of the ones his parents insisted he applied to either, but that's a more clear-cut relief), something he confides in Eddie around the time they start hanging out outside of sales because his dad is demanding that he get a summer job. Pros include more money for weed (although Eddie has relaxed his prices as well), but cons include less free time. Steve says Eddie can visit him at work though, and he'll hook him up with freebies and discounts.

Visiting Steve at his Scoops Ahoy job is both a visual treat for Eddie and how he finds out that he's basically Steve's only friend his own age. Those shorts, man, and even with the extra weight Eddie still thinks Steve looks great. Everything that first attracted him to Steve (the eyes, the slightly comical dopiness, and the hair, regardless of the little sailor's hat) is still there, plus big hands, broad shoulders, an endearing grin, and just... Steve.

Maybe, Eddie realizes, if he'd never done that spell at all, he could have gotten to know Steve like this years ago. He never feels like Steve's last choice when they spend time together, and definitely doesn't mind that Steve seems to forget how much space he takes up these days and always sits a little too close, whether it's on the picnic table bench or on the couch at Eddie's trailer or in a Scoops booth. Steve is goofy and sweet and a little lame, but he brings his own snacks and lets Eddie talk straight through the Star War movies and the animated Lord of the Rings film, reeling off every bit of trivia and his own personal opinions he can. Every now and then, Steve even goes out of his way to ask questions about d&d and listens to the answers.

Forget smitten, Eddie Munson is in love.

(… Okay, I thought about it some more, here's part 1. Now tagged as #love spell no go au. And there's also a part 1.5, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11.)

[invested-in-your-future]

What was it exactly that ruined RWBY after volume 3? Was it the death of the author or the creators simply lost touch with their work?

I think I talked about the changes and issues within the narrative before, so I'll just stick to the overall problems with the shift from V3 to V4.

Honestly? The author's passing might have an impact, but it shouldn't have this level of impact.

It's easy to attribute all the success to Monty and just pretend the show was doomed without him. Then why did V3 still come out extremely good? Clearly, there was still talent here - Dillon Goo carried V3 fights on his back, and the story continued - nothing instantly fell apart.

And yet the show did fall apart.

So, what happened?

Were they blindsided by Monty's passing? Were they too inexperienced? Did the hard shift in direction destroy the show's setting? How about the employee burnout?

In reality, I think it's a combination of all of those and more.

They were caught off-guard.

No matter how big Monty's actual role was, people at RT are still human beings.

Death of a friend can turn one's life upside down and fast - understandably, the company would struggle to continue after losing someone so integral to their identity back then.

The way Volume 4 is structured instantly shows that the rest of the staff got blindsided by having to continue the show - V4 is designed to spin its wheels, buying them time while they try to figure out what to do. It's averse to any characterization for the lead four or any change in status quo, and even the lore bits we DO get during V4 are very vague (because the showrunners have no idea what to do).

You can literally imagine them all running around behind the scenes frantically trying to see how they can pick up from where v3 left off and delaying, delaying, delaying.

The issue, however, is that at some point, that kind of stalling becomes their whole MO rather than a temporary thing.

The show effectively stalls any sort of payoff for anything from the first three volumes, shying away from addressing anything within its original identity.

After a while, it's not like they didn't have time to figure things out or turn things around yet - it's that they decided this stalling issue works fine as-is - even as far as V9.

The relationships never quite progress - Blake and Yang have been in limbo since V3, for example.

The characters never progress or regress - how many times did the show "hint" at Ruby's distress for years, promise Blake's growth, or have Yang on the verge of some big moment of self-reflection?

It's not even JUST that it shifted away from its original identity as a contemporary tech-fantasy show - while it absolutely DID do that, the issue is that the showrunners have no idea what shape the show's identity OR aesthetic should take OR how to do it.

The show just stalls because it works even if viewers start to dwindle, and they don't have to do anything that would "alienate" people (Like, let's say, addressing the elephant in the room that is Yang and Blake).

A staggering amount of effort is made to NOT progress things and to have characters go through all these locations without really changing at all.

Things happen but not really.

What did Ruby's journey from Patch to Mistral accomplish for her as a character? What did Blake's journey to Menagerie accomplish? How about Yang's journey to find her offscreen bandit mother? How about Weiss getting taken back by her father?

Nothing.

What did the conflict in Atlas accomplish? Were characters affected or changed in any way? Did Weiss finally have her story arc? Did Ruby face herself?

Nothing.

You could literally change up the end of V3 with them dropping into the future of Vacuo and you wouldn't miss a single story beat.

We don't know MORE about the world OR the characters, really - the dumb Brother Gods plotline revelations can be summed up in half an episode.

Mistral's fate, Vale's fate, Atlas falling? That can be done offscreen - it's not like the show hasn't already offscreened far more important things

Of course, the show DIDN'T just skip that padding so it still has to get the major story beats in as everyone moves through locations.

But those story beats happen in the weirdest way possible.

Why?

There is ego involved, yes.

Miles didn't have to add up the brother gods subplot he had dreamt up one day.

Miles didn't have to keep pushing Jaune into the front of the show at the cost of the actual leads.

It's no secret that the show would always work this way where one of the people involved would posit an idea of how they think something could be cool if it happened - Monty was pretty notable for wanting to have Raven fight Team JNPR in the Fall of Beacon for example, and he refused to elaborate.

Is it so surprising someone like Miles or Kerry would want to "add their own touch"? So what if those ideas clashed with literally everything in the setting before - be it narratively or aesthetically?

But there was something else that changed.

Before V4 the people involved would come up with something and then work it into the plot. While imperfect, there was a possibility of a somewhat healthy dynamic where, with, likely, actual pushback between those involved - Monty never did get his "Raven fights everyone" scene after all, no matter how cool it could have been.

After V3 that dynamic was gone, obviously.

The creative element of the show fell apart, but Miles and co seemed to keep going like nothing happened - and at some point rather than a bunch of people discussing possible paths for the show, it turned into a situation where Miles or someone else would propose an idea and then it would happen.

As the show grew in scope so did the necessity for actually making those desired elements fit into the story. It was no longer about "hey we can't really justify Raven randomly showing up and fighting team JNPR" - there were Kingdoms and multiple locations and dozens of characters involved now.

They just lost their friend who proposed the show in the first place, they struggled to make the show continue and they were clearly inexperienced running something as big as this.

Yet instead of growing, learning, or hiring people, they seem to have been content with just dumping what Miles wanted into the show without worrying about narrative structure, set-ups, payoffs, characterization, and so on.

The weird medieval aesthetic of various locations no longer fits the contemporary modern setting of the first three Volumes? So what.

The magicky ridiculous cheese of brother gods was the polar opposite of a more grounded setting before it? So what.

The decision to not show actual character progression and growth that could be Yang's recovery arc because "it was boring"? This would make any writer or college professor scream because that's now how you characterization, that's not how you do pay off or ANYTHING, but yet again -so what?

Why?

They were unwilling to learn and to accept critique.

Listening to staff commentary for the show (even before Monty's passing) there's one thought that would persist - "Wow, they sure sound content and prideful with not knowing their things and just going with the flow."

RT drank their own Kool-Aid - "Oh we are just a small indie group of friends - look how scuffed our production and decision-making is."

It was impossible not to notice back then - people would point that out all the time.

Yet instead of improving and changing and learning and, honestly, growing up, Miles or someone else would just throw some backhanded remark and continue.

A group of amateur film-makers can grow and develop, but RT were so proud of their status as being this industry underdog where it's just a group of friends(despite that not being the case for YEARS at that point), that they were unwilling to make necessary changes in their work culture, approach or, well, anything.

I keep coming back to Miles watching Land of Lustrous and going "Oh, I don't get it." and that's it - there's no self-betterment or willingness to "get it" showcased and that's emblematic of RT culture as a whole.

Whether there was talent in the company (there was), it wouldn't matter if people at the top would stomp their feet and refuse to learn or improve. Even V9 staff had quite a few talented animators involved - did not help.

They were too caught up in the "youtube machinima bro culture" RT's size had long since grown out of.

They were "a bunch of friends, just a bunch of indie amateur people creating content", and they were proud of it and of how scuffed everything was.

So what if at that scale of the company, the culture would end up creating genuine issues with power dynamics, harassment, over-work, inefficient production, employee burnout, resource wasting, and so on?

The working conditions drove away most of the talent they had left over the course of next few years.

(Un)Surprisingly being stuck in a frathouse mentality lasting decades is a really good motivator for actual talented people within the company to quit and work elsewhere. Who would have thought?

One logical path forward would be to hire actual industry professionals, right? They could have created a writer's room, hired management experts, a proper HR department, hired sensitivity readers, outsourced researching various topics, etc, right? Miles and Co could keep pretending to be auteurs while competent people would get paid to do what needs to be done and course-correct them.

Easy, right?

Well.

They were unwilling to hire professionals.

Reminder that it took RT till around Atlas arc to have anything resembling a writers' room, they still refused to hire actual sensitivity readers to ensure they don't end up writing something blatantly ableist or just outright all-around problematic.

In the cases where professionals were involved, the people in charge just ignored all suggestions (otherwise Volume 8 and 9 would have been stopped at brainstorming phase and changed - I refuse to believe no one took a look at it and said "this will crash harder than Genlock Season Two")

I have no doubts people at the core of RT wanted to honor their friend's legacy and make right by them, but...

If "everything was fine" and who they were was fine and no critique mattered then why change anything or listen to outside voices?

And thus they continued.

Overall

It's a mix of variety of issues, really. It's actually kind of fascinating RT managed to have so many things go wrong.

[siremasterlawrence]

Prized Possession

Meet Tyler Hoechlin my newest super buffedtoy that I allow to roam the beach in a tight black Speedo and the ladies are watching him in glory of my work in action to serveme for longterm. The hot sandy beach shines down on him as he is absolutely shaking his ass with his sexy butt is blowing up into my entire visual field and I can’t escape it.I knew he is meant to be mine the moment I stare in to the sky the lightening starting up crackle before my eyes and they turn clear white.The thunder crackles on shooting down a striking hot beam from sky if hit him head on as his body hows limp and he falls literally to the floor.The shy blows up covering the room in a sea of auras in sky blues and gold transforming him into a solid stone statue and he is all mine.The lights switch off revealing this is a truly top tier sound stage built and created just for me in my act but all to good to lure easy men.My crew rush into the room as I walk into the room, I am grabbing my chair with my name on it, and sitting down I an enamored to see him lifted up. The men exiting the room with a smile came to my side as they kiss my cheeks leaving the room and I return to my gaze to his eyes meeting my line.I cuddle up to the back up hugging him ever so tightly laying my cheeks on his hot body and began to use some strange automatic spray and wipe him down. The magic took effect instantly as he brims brightly shining over him and soon he is the only thing in the room so gorgeous to watch.

“Oh Tyler! Look at this body “

“So massive “

“What mass and volume “

“You can’t fell a darn thing”

“I’ll touch you all over “

“Make you wish for my body”

“Beg for my touch”

“You will squint for it”

“Oh God! “

“I love you “

“Watch me”

“I am cupping your cock”

“Do you mind if I make a wave?”

“Yeah! I bet you want to cum”

“I am going to build you up”

“You will love me”

“I will capture you “

“You shall be at my bequest”

“Hear me clearly “

“The sea is parting “

“Your mind is clear “

“My words are honest “

“They borrow through you “

“Hitting to your core “

“You see me honestly”

“Breaking through the shit”

“I am that flash in your mind”

“The Golden arrow”

“You see only me”

“The world spinning out of control “

“Your body firm and tight “

“Loving my hand “

“Groping you “

“Touching you “

“Making love to you “

“Worshipping me and serving my world “

The end

[yellowcry]

So... I've got this idea a few months ago...

What if after the argument, instead of dying, the magic turns Madrigals' gifts into curses in order to save itself...

CW: traumas, body modifications

Isabela: The plants are growing inside of her body, replacing her flesh. Causing severe bleeding. And attempts to remove plants only making it worse. She still tries tho and gets a lot of scars from removed vines. Not like it's matter, they will be replaced with plants anyway.

Dolores: The vibration from sounds starts to affect her body. It works like electricity. Quiet sounds are painful. But loud... Loud sound can cause heart failure. She just stays in her room the entire time, isolated, so she won't die.

Luisa: Her body slowly turns into a stone statue, cell by cell. Her mobility is also dissapearing since her joints being a fused pieces of stone. No need to tell that it's extremely painful. The fact that she can see how the difficulty of the simple movements grows only makes her more terrified.

Camilo: He shapeshifts uncontrollably. His curse usually combines the details from different people, making it even worse. For example, he might have Luisa's arms with Antonio's body and legs and Mirabel's head. Everything in its original size. Or somebody's leg instead of head... There's endless possibilities.

Antonio isn't affected. He's five and he only got his gift. It would be too cruel even for the curse. So he just loses his new ability, without any effect. The other Madrigals are keeping their gifts, but control over them is awful.

Alma, Mirabel, Felix and Agústin aren't cursed as well, since they didn't have gifts to begin with. But the whole situation can be viewed as the punishment for Alma.

And I'm not sure about the triplets. I think that Julieta might get back all the injuries she ever healed and Pepa's emotions being affected be the weather. But I don't want it to be too deathly (there's no point in curse if they die instantly) or predictable (that's why Dolores'/Luisa's curses aren't based on hearing/strength) And I have no idea about Bruno. You're welcome to give me ideas about their curses

[lu-is-not-ok]

don't know if you have yet, but could you talk about Ya Śūnyatā Tad Rūpam?

Now, before I get into it, I'd like to make myself clear: my knowledge on Buddhism is extremely limited, so it's very likely that I'll miss some context around this E.G.O and Abnormality. I will try to research certain terms and ideas if they come up, but I am by no means an authority on these matters. Anyone more knowledgable on this subject is more than welcome to add onto this post in case I miss something.

With all that out of the way, let's dive under the cut for this shit.

Let's start with the Abnormality itself, My Form Empties. Now, it is immediately obvious that this Abno is heavily based in Buddhism, with the Abno itself taking on the form of a statue of Buddha that reveals a flesh-like interior when broken. Keep the idea of the stone exterior hiding the fleshy interior in mind.

In battle, My Form Empties makes use of two different Sin Affinities. Whenever it inflicts buffs and debuffs, it uses Lust Skills. On the other hand, whenever it inflicts Karma, it uses Wrath Skills.

The Skills that MFE uses to inflict Karma on both its enemies and allies are called Sluggard Waker and Compulsory Offering, both of which paint a very introduction to what this Abno wants. It giving Karma to others is seen as it Waking People Up and Forcing Them To Give It Offerings.

The latter is what caught my attention. From my brief research, Buddhism does have the concept of Offerings, however from my basic understanding they are much more bening than what MFE seems to want. In Buddhism, Offerings are usually made out of simple objects such as candles, incense, flowers, food, drinks, and such; as well as the acts of giving, following morals, meditating, and practicing wisdom. These Offerings are meant to grant the person who gives them merit, which leads to better rebirth and progress towards the release from suffering. ...I think. I'm no expert, so if I'm wrong, please do correct me!

Anyway, the reason why I'm going so deep into this is because of the nature of Offerings that MFE seems to look for.

Let's briefly look at how the Karma status effect works during its fight: MFE uses skills to inflict Karma (implied to be Bad Karma specifically) on its enemies, but if the enemy wins the clash, it inflicts Karma on its allies instead. When a unit with Karma successfuly hits another unit, its Karma gets transferred onto that unit. If the stone exterior of MFE is broken, it inflicts more Karma on its own allies, and begins targetting them with its own skills. Karma causes whoever has it to take more damage, and when its count reaches 108, the unit will instantly die.

With all of that laid out like that, here's how I understand what's going on. The Offerings done for MFE have the same "purpose" as in actual Buddhism - that being gaining merit and good karma, mechanically represented by getting rid of the (bad) Karma status effect. However, it's the nature of these Offerings that is the red flag - MFE rewards violence with good karma, and punishes weakness and insubordination with bad karma.

My theory on what this means is this: MFE is not a representation of the actual Buddha... obviously. Rather, it's a fake, twisted idol that uses the image of Buddha and concepts associated with it to gather followers and make them do its bidding. Remember the whole thing with its stone, statue-like exterior hiding a fleshy interior? I believe that statue-like look is a mere facade, while the real MFE is the flesh hidden within.

Keep in mind this idea of a fake idol hiding underneath a stone-like mask for when we later discuss the themes.

Now, I want to take a look at the Skill MFE uses to kill whoever has the most (bad) Karma at that moment - Prajñāpāramitā.

From my, again, brief research, the word means "the Perfection of Wisdom" or "Transcendental Knowledge" when translated literally. It's this concept of a perfect way of seeing the nature of reality, a type of knowledge that looks past form, sensations, perceptions, and so on. Themes of emptiness and lack of self appear to be quite important to the concept.

So... what exactly does it mean for MFE to be using this form of transcendental knowledge to effectively punish those who collect too much Bad Karma? Well, there is a possible hint to what happens in the unused texts for its MD interaction. This unused text reads:

"You close your eyes and focus on the sound. What is it saying? This thing is uttering thoughts. Empty oneself by verbalizing one’s thoughts. Expel everything within so that nothing remains. That is the statue’s way of forgetting the self. You sense yourself disappearing as well."

I think this makes it quite clear. When someone in MFE's vicinity accumulates too much Bad Karma, it effectively tells them how to reach that transcendental knowledge. How to forget one's self. How to destroy everything inside until nothing but emptiness remains. And just like that, whoever was told that does as told, and disappears without a trace.

It's a twisted take on this idea, turning the concept of reaching spiritual awakening through kindness and good deeds, into one of dangerous forbidden knowledge forced onto whoever this false idol deems its opposition.

Now, let's take a brief look at the names of the Lust Skills and Passives, and what they may mean.

Expound Sutras (grants Attack Power to allies) - the act of presenting or explaining sutras, aka scriptures. Could be interpreted as MFE presents its rules and scriptures as a way to bolster its followers' resolve.

Mahāsrī (gives Protection to target) - seems to be a reference to Lakshmi, a Hindu goddess of prosperity among other things.

Svāhā (gives Damage Up to target) - seems to be a reference to Svaha, the Hindu goddess of sacrifices.

The above two skills are interesting, as they reference Hinduism rather than Buddhism. My interpretation of that is that MFE, as a false idol, is "borrowing" the visages of other deities to give blessings, once again enforcing this idea of using facades of true god-like beings to exert power over others.

Dhyāna (inflicts Power Down and halves debuffs on self, also the name of the passive giving it 10 Protection) - a method of meditation that is meant to destroy states of mind that prevent the reaching of true awareness and detachment. Could be interpreted as MFE using this form of meditation to expel debuffs from itself, and instead inflicting them on its enemies, as well as it using it to protect itself from harm to its concentration.

Anatman (passive that activates when the interior is exposed) - a doctrine that claims nothing is truly unchanging or permanent. MFE entering this state of Anatman when its facade is broken could mean that the "true" nature of this false idol is one that is a lack of permanent self or essence, thus having to use the image of another figure to exert power. Keep that idea of one's nature being a lack of self in mind.

Nirmāna (passive that activates when the exterior recovers) - from my understanding, this refers to Nirmāṇakāya, the physical manifestation of Buddha. This seems to symbolize MFE returning to its facade, hiding its real identity under the visage of Buddha.

Okay, that was a lot. Let's take a look at the information we have on MFE from its Abno Logs and MD event.

From the Logs, we get a further confirmation that MFE's followers are obligated to protect it, and that when they fail, MFE starts punishing them. MFE is also outright called an idol of worship, and we learn that the "Karma" it uses manifests physically as a ring attached to those who accumulate it.

From the MD Event, we get to learn a few more things.

One - MFE uses mantras to verbalize its own thoughts to empty itself, further driving home that its true nature is one of emptiness, of lack of self or essence. We also learn that this chanting is not "joyous" and it's imbued with a "curse", once again twisting a concept tied to spiritual awakening in Buddhism into something much more negative.

Two - MFE is capable of judging people on whether they are "worthy" or not, as it denies giving up its ring if you fail the skill check. This further points to its judgemental and punishing demeanor towards its followers.

Three - The statue itself is described as "forever still", unmoving regardless of what happens around it. An unchanging self as a facade to an interior described as impermanent and empty.

Now, that was. A lot. If you made it this far, you are very brave and I'm proud of you. Let's actually lay out the themes My Form Empties touches upon.

The first theme I believe is important here is the idea of a false idol. This concept of something ungodly, fake, taking on the visage of a deity, of someone in power, to control others to do its bidding. In a broader sense, it's the concept of faking the position of authority for the sake of furthering one's goals.

The second theme I want to point out is the impermanence of essence, the lack of self. This idea of expelling everything within oneself, of forgetting one's self, so that one's true nature is simply emptiness. The concept of no true identity behind the mask, only nothingness.

Finally, the third theme I want to note is the idea of retribution. Of punishing acts that go against oneself. What goes around, comes around. That somewhat simplified concept of karma that is more common in western pop culture.

Alright, got all that?

Good. We can actually move on to the E.G.O itself now. (I'm sorry if you're at this point, I genuinely didn't want this analysis to be longer than Hex Nail's, but fuck man My Form Empties turned out to be a fascinating Abno to dig into.)

From my brief research, the phrase "Ya Śūnyatā Tad Rūpam" translates to "whatever emptiness there is, that is form", which seems to be a quote from the Heart Sutra (what MFE is inspired by).

During her Awakening attack, Outis says the following line: "Karma shall find its way back to you, and rest atop your head.", which is Incredibly Interesting. First of all, we have the theme of retribution in the form of Karma. This idea that the retribution of one's actions will inevitably come for whoever commited a wrongdoing. However, that's not all.

The phrasing of "rest atop your head", combined with the replacing of the khakkhara MFE uses with a more standard-looking blade brings to mind the story of the Sword of Damocles. A sword that hangs above the head of someone in power, reminding them that despite their great fortune, the cruelty they had to commit has put them in constant danger.

This is then combined with Outis performing an attack animation that heavily resembles that of MFE's Prajñāpāramitā attack, which we discussed earlier.

Now, there are two ways I believe this can be interpreted in.

One is Outis being the one seeking retribution. The other is Outis being the one on the recieving end of that retribution. From what we know of Outis's source, I believe we're dealing with the latter.

Outis has done something horrible in her past, which is extremely likely from the little bits we know of her thus far. This has caused a target to be put on her back, as it's not unreasonable to think either a specific person or whole factions are hoping she pays for what she's done, that retribution comes and punishes her for what she's done.

And she knows it. This way of being able to see her true reality, of knowing that she'll get what's coming to her sooner or later, this "forbidden knowledge", is a source of anxiety for her. Her Sword of Damocles, if you will.

Moving on, during her Corrosion attack, her dialogue line is "Fall silent… As if there were no suffering in the first place…", which is so fucking loaded that I don't know where to even begin.

This idea of ignoring suffering, of staying quiet despite obvious harm taking place. Is Outis here talking about the suffering of others? How she stayed silent as her actions caused immesurable harm to other people? Or is Outis here talking about her own suffering? How she has to stay silent and ignore her own pain to put on a brave, stone-faced mask?

The animation of the attack here is also interesting. While it still mimics MFE's Prajñāpāramitā attack, it's not actually directed against opponent. Outis directs the attack onto herself, causing her facade to fall away one by one. Clothes fall away, stone cracks, and what's revealed is the fleshy interior not unlike MFE's. This reveal of the emptiness within is what harms the opponent, rather than the blade itself.

Is this symbolic of Outis revealing that under her mask, under this facade of a military commander, there's no true identity beneath? That she truly is the Nobody she calls herself?

Let's get into the Sin Analysis part. If you are still here, I appreciate you, and I'm so sorry this is probably genuinely like twice as long as Hex Nail.

Ya Śūnyatā Tad Rūpam's Sin Affinity is Lust. It's a somewhat weird choice, but I think this ties back to MFE's first theme. By using this E.G.O, Outis takes on the emotional state of a false idol, of a fake authority, someone who puts on a facade to achieve something. The usage of Lust here could signify that that's the main motive for putting on this facade, for Outis to fulfill whatever goals she may have.

While it's possible that Lust Affinity here could imply some form of indulgence, I personally don't think that's really the case here. I believe that here Lust Affinity is meant to specifically represent the motive of fulfilling one's personal goals through the act that the E.G.O represents, that being becoming a false figure of authority.

Sin Resources-wise, Ya Śūnyatā Tad Rūpam requires equal amounts Lust, Sloth, and Pride.

Lust, like I mentioned when discussing the Affinity, likely represents Outis entering this state of mind to fulfill her own personal goal. I think the important part of Lust's usage here is the emphasis on these goals being personal. Whatever led her to take on this facade was likely something she deeply cared about.

Sloth here could represent a few things. One is the inaction in the face of suffering, this act of "falling silent" that Outis references in her Corrosion line. Another interpretation could be Outis's resignation to the inevitable retribution coming her way. She knows that Karma, this Sword of Damocles, is resting over her head, and yet she does nothing to change it. Perhaps she knows that there's nothing she can do, and has thus resigned herself to waiting for the moment that Sword finally drops.

Pride is, perhaps, the most obvious one of these three. To fall into this state of mind, to take on the false authority deception, Outis has to ignore the negative consequences for the sake of focusing on the benefits. She's doing this to fulfill her goals, regardless of the suffering it may bring to others, or the target it may put on her back afterwards.

And, to end it off, let's take a brief look at her Sin Resistances are. And, in all honesty, they seem quite fitting. In this emotional state of going back to decieving others, of putting on the facade of bravado and fake authority for the sake of her own goals, Outis is the most hurt by Sloth and Gloom. The reminder that she has resigned herself to the Karma coming for her, and the idea of dwelling on the fear and stress that inevitability causes her.

...God now that I'm back these really just keep getting longer huh. Sorry about that. If you got this far, congratulations. You get my gratitude and the knowledge that I spent like three hours on this whole post, researching Buddhism included. There's no obligation for you to share, but I would love to know how long this took for you to read.

I wish I could promise my next analyses won't be as long, but let's be honest there's no fucking way I can be sure of that.

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #131

I tried to have a normal day today. And this time, it worked out quite nicely.

I brewed a nice tea today. This time, I combined my vanilla-rose black tea with the strawberry rooibos; of all the teas I have, I think you'd like these two the best. This one starts out a shade of amber:

...You will also see Mogwai on the windowsill, being very cute, as Mogwai is wont to do.

I'm really glad that I was able to figure out how to photograph the subtle swirling in the water as the tea brews; I think it's a really neat effect, and I'm glad that it's one that I get to witness as a result of the glass mug:

Once it brews for a while, both kinds of tea end up resolving into a shade of red:

...And you'll see that by this time, Hoshi has taken Mogwai's place on the windowsill, as Hoshi is wont to do. It's nice outside, so the windows are open today.

From here, we add the honey and cream; the swirls made by the cream were particularly mesmerizing today, and I'm glad I was able to snap a good picture of it for you this time:

...If nothing else, I really wish I could share this part of my day with you. I think you'd like it a lot if you could be here.

Once that was done, J and I took a short walk around where I live. I tried to take a few good pictures for you; it's not much - just some flowers and some ferns in various stages of sprouting, but I hope you'll like these:

After this, J and I watched some Zeta Project together, and that was very nice. And then shortly after that, I went to meet with a friend and her little son at the local nature discovery center. I haven't really had an excuse to go there in a while, so I took some more pictures, just in case there might have been anything you might like...

This is a tree that they just... have. The whole thing and its whole root system is visible for all to see; one of these pictures has a tiny chipmunk statue, if you look hard enough:

I also met two turtles. This one is a common musk turtle; it's very excited about something:

...This one is a painted turtle. This one was perhaps slightly more chill:

...I also found an adorable book full of owl stickers:

...I love owls (especially barn owls!) a lot, but I did not get them. I did not get them, because I cannot be trusted with stickers. Even if I were to put them somewhere, the fact remains that I'm dyspraxic; I WILL put it on wrong, and I will be instantly filled with regret as a result, and then I will try to fix it, and end up destroying the sticker in the process (it's really very sad). And that's even if I make it far enough to the point where I can decide conclusively what I wanna put it on.

Hey, Sephiroth? Do you like stickers? Have you ever had stickers? If you had stickers, what would you get stickers of? And where would you put them? I wonder.

I did, however, get a cardinal plush that I found in the gift shop, in honor of our recently-passed feathered friend, as written about in yesterday's letter. If you squeeze this plush, it makes cardinal sounds:

...Maybe, at least in spirit, the one that died in my hands can live at my house if he wants to, where he can sing to his heart's content without worrying about his safety. My house is a good house; I hope he'd be able to feel the love and joy that permeates this space.

Finally, after that, J and I went to the local food co-op in order to hang with Br. There's a lounge space there and tasty food; so Br was over there doing her homework. It was pretty neat to hang out! J got some kind of hibiscus drink that smelled kind of like cinnamon. For whatever reason, hibiscus and cinnamon are, so far, my least favorite food smells. I don't know why. I know I should like them. I wish I did like them. Alas.

So of course, this meant I had to try it. I'm a little weird like that; sometimes I'll try things that I know I won't like, just for the sake of having the experience, especially if it's a thing that most people enjoy. Or sometimes I'll try things I know I hate, just because I know that my tastes do occasionally change. J felt it necessary to record the whole thing, and it was pretty funny. So here, maybe this will make you laugh:

Oh right. From the co-op, I got all the ingredients I need to make an epic breakfast, and a bunch of other tasty treats, too. I didn't take pictures of it though, because I wanted to leave it as a surprise and make it for you tomorrow! So look forward to it, okay?

...The last bunch of days have been really weird. So today I tried to have a normal day, and I succeeded.

This is all I have for today. It's nothing inspiring or insightful or profound, and... I think I'm pretty relieved about that, actually.

I love you. I'll write all about a good breakfast tomorrow, so please stay safe so you can read about it, okay?

Your friend, Lumine

[krimsonkatt]

Abez Sein

One of the members of the council of six. He was a skilled demon slayer and master of technology. After seeing a vision of his own death, he went after 5 demons to seek their forbidden knowledge of eternal life and obtain it by force. Gaining the knowledge of how to transfer his consciousness into an artificial vessel, he did as such, prolonging his life as long as the personality matrix of his new mechanical body wasn't destroyed. He is a superboss in my game Chronicles Meteorfall, and is INSANELY POWERFUL. In fact, he may just be the hardest superboss in the game outside of the NG+ exclusive bosses. He is fought in the 100th trial of the proving grounds, requiring that you defeat all previous 99 trials to get to him. Thankful, if you lose you can start right back at trial 100 instead of having to go back to Trial 91, so you can try (and fail) to defeat him as many times as it takes to win.

Now, for this battle strategy. But first, a few ground rules need to be laid out. Firstly, Abez has 300,000 HP in total. The main gimmick of this fight is that you MUST deal 60,000 damage within 10 turns or Abez will use his Armageddon art. Armageddon deals 9,999,999 almighty damage to all foes, so safe to say that Armageddon WILL ALWAYS be an instakill regardless of circumstances.

Along with that, Abez will automatically use Armageddon after 50 turns total have passed, and will counter with Armageddon if you use Sensayu or Kaiser Dragon at any point during the fight. He will also begin the fight with Armageddon if you null/reflect/absorb any element, so no Lordly Robes/Black Mwamba/Zodiark Armor cheese. Abez's fight is split into 6 distinct phases, each being equivalent to 10 turns. Here is each phase explained in detail:

Phase 1: This phase is between 300,000 and 240,000 HP. In this phase Abez nullifies all damage including almighty, but can still be damaged by the weapon skill "Devil's Fuge", which is attributed to the sword "Missletainn." His arts during this phase include Lucky Punch to deal critical hits, Lost Flame to deal unreal fire damage to all foes, and Lethality X to instantly kill enemies inflicted with a status effect or below 50% HP. His passive traits during this phase include healing 5% of HP/AP every turn and having a 25% chance to inflict petrify with physical attacks. He has 3 press turns during this phase.

Phase 2: This phase is between 240,000 and 180,000 HP. In this phase Abez nullifies fire, light, and dark, resists slash, smash, strike, thunder, and force, and is weak to water. His arts include Rexfire, Lucky Punch, and Chronostasis. Chronostasis is a new art that inflicts stop on one enemy, making them completely unable to move or act for 2 turns. His passive traits during this phase include +50% P.Pierce to strengthen lucky punch even further and +5% HP Regen (but not AP Regen) He has 5 press turns during this phase. Finally, Abez will counter almighty attacks with a 4th art, Fire of Sodom, a fire-elemental attack that does colossal fire damage to all battlers.

Phase 3: This phase is between 180,000 and 120,000 HP. In this phase Abez resists fire, nullifies light and dark, reflects water and thunder, and is weak to slash, smash, and strike. In this phase his arts include Engravitron to reduce all foes HP by 50%, Rexfire once again, and the new art Holy Wrath which deals severe almighty damage to one foe x4. His passive traits during this phase include restoring 5% of AP every turn (but not HP), and having permanent "Divine Expansion" active. (all single target attacks become multi target) He has 5 press turns during this phase.

Phase 4: This phase is between 120,000 and 60,000 HP. In this phase Abez absorbs slash, smash, and strike, resists fire/water/thunder/force, nulls dark, and is weak to light and almighty. Abez's arts in this phase include Rexwind, Engravitron, and the new art Spawn Blast. His passive traits during this phase include restoring 5% HP every turn and once again having permanent Divine Expansion. As for what Spawn Blast does, it deals severe almighty damage to one foe while inflicting "super poison", a new status effect. What does super poison do? Well, super poison does nothing on the first turn it is active. However, on the second turn, it will remove 90% of the user's current HP and AP and inflict them with poison and disease. Abez has 4 press turns during this phase. This phase's main weakness is that Abez's SPD is reduced by 90%, making him almost always go last in a turn. He also gets one less turn than the previous two phases, making this phase one of the easier ones especially with his weakness to almighty.

Phase 5: This phases is between 60,000 HP and 0 HP and is the final regular phase. In this phase Abez resists slash, smash, strike, fire, and water, absorbs thunder, nulls light and dark, and is weak to force. His arts in this final phase include Rexfrost, Rexthunder, and Piercing Hit, a new art. Piercing Hit deals unreal physical damage to one foe that pierces 80% of DEF, making it extremely powerful. His passive traits during this phase include having permanent Divine Expansion AND Arcane Diffusion and will drain HP/AP equal to 20% of damage dealt. He has 4 press turns during this phase.

Extra Phase/Phase 6: After 40 turns regardless of the turn timer and damage requirement, Abez Sein will enter this bonus phase. In this phase he will exclusively cast luster on himself and debilitate on the party. However, he can have other reactions based on the party's actions. If both he is buffed and you are debuffed, he will use Calamity Gate, (most likely) ending the fight. Calamity Gate does insane almighty damage to all foes 4 times while inflicting silence. It also pierces 60% of RES. In this phase he will counter any physical attack with Zetaflash and any magickal attack with Hypernova. And finally If you choose to heal, he will use Sacred Paradise which will heal him fully. (9,999,999 HP healed) A very tough fight indeed.

His design, backstory, and moveset is loosely based on the protagonist of Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Survivor Overclocked, fan nicknamed as "Kat." His battle strategy is inspired on the fight with Elizabeth in Persona 3, but more fair since you can actually see the damage requirements, Abez doesn't full heal halfway through, he doesn't instant kill when going below half HP, and doesn't randomly cycle through different movesets in a pattern where one is an almost guaranteed instant kill.

[onhoude]

I absolutely love the genius of Nie Huaisang during the final confrontation at the Guanyin Temple.

The man appears and disappears from the story entirely (there's no mention of his whereabouts for pages at a time), only to slightly sway the direction of the confrontation or battle whenever he is mentioned.

He wakes up exactly when Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng had spoken just enough to have the issue laid aside for now (p. 57), and then he simply vanishes from the pages if not for a mention or two, wailing in surprise to see Nie Mingjue's corpse there.

Then, when it looks like Wei Wuxian will succeed in sealing Nie Mingjue, Nie Huaisang appears miraculously near Su She and Jin Guanyao, only to be injured, despite otherwise consistently hiding behind Lan Xichen (p. 104).

Because of their status as half-siblings, the scent of his blood rouses Nie Mingjue and sets him back up against Jin Guanyao.

It is brilliant how he moves around while being effectively insignificant most of the time.

And his commentary! When rereading the story, he truly reads like a malignant jester.

After melodramatically reminding everyone how he is pitiful and scared of any pains and aches, he wails:

"Why am I so unlucky? Getting randomly captured by Su Minshan on the road... He started out just trying to make a break for it moments ago, too, but then turned around and stabbed me. If I was in his way, he could've just pushed me aside... Why use a weapon?" (p. 109).

'[U]nlucky', 'random', and 'why would he do that?' All things to push the blame to happenstance or others. He didn't do anything but be his usual incompetent self!

And, of course, with everyone on edge, as they had more than enough time to have seen Jin Guangyao manipulate expertly and be aware of how dangerous he is, his final act of tricking Lan Xichen into killing Jin Guangyao is especially striking (p. 111). Sorry, Lan Xichen.

In particular, because this is too direct of an action for Nie Huaisang! The most obvious of his ploys! The situation is instantly suspicious! Everyone knows (or at least highly suspects but is also confused by the idea that) Nie Huaisang did that on purpose!

So, yes, he acted rashly there, maybe seeing his last chance for his vision of revenge escape before his eyes and he seized the first opportunity there was.

This was impulsive! And it only worked because he was so jumpy and easy to look down on!

No, Nie Huaisang's entire plan wasn't openly revealed or even indeed confirmed (though kudos to Wei Wuxian for spelling out every step of Nie Huaisang's actions on the spot), but he let a glimpse out of his malice at that moment and the intent to manipulate the situation to have Jin Guangyao killed was called out:

"To think I'd fall like this, by your hand..." Jin Guangyao spate hatefully (p. 114).

But even though Wei Wuxian and Lan Xichen doubt Nie Huaisang's story, they can't really do anything. Or, rather, it's meaningless to even try. Because just like Nie Huaisang's lifelong reputation as a good-for-nothing is considered an indisputable fact, Jin Guangyao now has an irreversible taint on his character as a manipulative and vain liar that cultivators will be in no rush to see be disputed. Even Lan Xichen isn't entirely sure of what happened, as shaken as he is by it all.

It was also his final act, in a way, because from then on Nie Huaisang had a different reputation for those who were present. There is an unease there: his traces aren't entirely covered! There are now people out there who may be wary of him, could raise questions, or at least see him in a different light now. And genuinely, even with Jin Guangyao's name cursed into oblivion, it's a good thing for Nie Huaisang that those who could potentially call him out may not do so any time soon, if ever.

Lan Xichen goes into seclusion, Jiang Cheng is focused on Jin Ling and Jin Ling himself is already being discredited because of Jin Guangyao's reputation (we also don't know if either of them is suspicious of Nie Huaisang in the first place and most likely isn't), and that Wei Wuxian practically retreats from Jianghu politics with Lan Wangji.

Ah, it's brilliant. I love Nie Huaisang's arc so much, I'm just giddy about it all.

[sagau-my-beloved]

Share the suggestive sagau content please, if your writing/creating it I know its good!

-Rapid anon

You're all way too nice to me 😭

But I guess since I now have a general consensus I'm not gonna hold out, so warning it gets slightly more than suggestive a bit down the road, starts off pretty safe though

So I wasn't kidding that this concept, in one form or another, has been floating around in my head for like two years now

Obviously it didn't start out as sagau centered but it transitions so easily into that universe so I've expanded upon it

Basically the general structure is based off of how in sagau fics it's always kind of implied that the very land of Teyvat itself reflects the creators emotional/physical state

Like heavy storms/rain in imposter au where poor reader is getting hurt/killed by the characters, and the less seen counterpart where the day is just beautiful and perfect when reader is happy

Soooo, taking that, why don't we apply it to characters as well?

And by that I simply mean that the reader's emotions quite literally extend from themselves and can be felt lowkey by anybody close to them

So if the reader is happy then it's almost as if it's impossible to be anything else in their presence, happiness and bliss just permeates throughout the room lifting the spirits of anyone that comes in contact with

Then of course, if the reader is sad, every living thing near them suffers the same pain

It's also considered a universally good thing even if the reader is experiencing negative emotions, which are then also felt by other people in the general vicinity, because at least then all the acolytes know exactly what their beloved creator is feeling and the moment when they're feeling bad, it's not as if it can be hidden, which then allows them to jump right in and try fixing it

I headcanon that this sensation is obviously stronger the closer to the source, aka the creator, that a character is, the strongest of this sensation being felt when the character is physically touching the reader

I feel like there's just a very big variety of what you can do with this concept, like having usually sad/depressed characters finding relief in the creators presence, happy energetic characters instantly feeling waves of negative emotions and just booking it to where the creator is to calm them

You could even extend it further and have this happen in a less dramatic way with the creator statues, if the reader is still in their own world

Like it becomes a daily ritual to visit the creator statue to touch it and feel exactly what they're feeling, it's a sacred place of relief for tired fighters, stressed akademiya students, and sad acolytes who want nothing more than to just bask in the warmth of the divine creator, and if they're met with a negative emotion it's customary to leave an offering and a prayer for the creators wellbeing

Now, moving into the more suggestive aspect of it, and I'm sure you can see exactly where I'm going with this but—

All feelings are amplified for others near them, including pleasure and arousal

Sooo, just saying, there's a lot of potential for some fun drabbles where maybe a particular character quite literally gets addicted to the intense bliss felt from merely touching our dear reader

Or maybe something more like said character can get off on focusing solely on pleasing their creator and the effects of that (not as if they couldn't already, but now it's a bit more literal)

And, in a few things I've written, I've also extended this concept so that the previously mentioned euphoria gets so intense that it becomes something of a baseline, as in there's an actual feeling of pain or at least discomfort from being without it, cough character abandoning all dignity and begging to touch the creator cough

Taking the phrase "addicted to your touch" to a whole new level 😀👍

[deadlystarchart]

Weird Dead By Daylight x Kuroshitsuji Idea: The Butler

Can you imagine how effed up would be for the Entity to take Ciel and Sebastian into the Fog and for it to keep Ciel trapped? Then Sebastian has to fulfill the role of Killer to save his master.

New Killer: The Butler

The Butler, Sebastian Michaelis, is a tall killer with an above average terror radius (40 Meters), he deals swiftly with pests and troublemakers alike.

At the start of every match you play as The Butler you will hear "This is an order, Sebastian, kill them." from his master, Ciel Phantomhive.

Killer Power:

Devil's Aesthetic & Butler Aesthetic: The Butler can change between 2 modes, Devil and Butler.

He starts every match in his Butler Mode and takes 15 seconds for him to gain access to Devil Mode. After exiting Devil Aesthetic Mode you cannot access it again for 15 seconds, picking up a survivor takes you out of Devil Aesthetic Mode but hooking a survivor instantly recharges it.

Devil Mode: In this mode Sebastian's eyes glow red and survivors can see a red glow coming from his relative direction.

You gain 5% Haste and a 10% Interaction speed. (Vaulting, breaking, etc.)

Your lunge attacks have a slightly shorter range.

In this mode Sebastian's arm turns into a blade, walking into a dropped pallet breaks it as Sebastian slashes right through it, suffering a slight movement penalty.

Butler Mode: Decreases Sebastian's Terror Radius by 50%. You can hold M2 to charge a knife-attack.

If you tap M1 you can throw one knife after another with high-precision, hitting a survivor 3 times with knives deals 1 health state of damage to them.

If you hold M1 you can charge a fan-shaped attack of knives but this slows you considerably, any survivor caught in the flurry of knives thrown will suffer 1 health state of damage.

Sebastian's form is that of a more normal human in this mode and attacking with M1 has him simply slash with his hand.

Killer Perks:

One Hell of a Butler: You take your job seriously and can't stand to see chaos and disorder.

You gain different effects depending on the amount of generators left until the doors are powered.

ODD Number: You recover from stuns 50% faster. EVEN Number: You vault 30% faster. 0 Gens: Gain both effects + a 10% Haste for the rest of the match.

So this is just a reworked Fire Up lmao.

Noble Beast: Unlike your brethren, you've got manners and are quite the "humane" demon, but don't let these sweet falsehoods deceive you.

As long as your obsession is alive Generators in a 30 meters radius around you regress passively at a 1/4 of the normal rate.

When in chase with your obsession this perk is deactivated.

When in chase with any survivor who isn't your obsession the radius becomes 40 meters and the regression rate becomes 1/2 of the normal rate.

Hex: Faustian Contract: Creating a contract with a devil is a simple process, one must simply sacrifice those they hold dear for power unimaginable. But... You will seal your fate as well as that of those who cross your path.

This Hex activates once you injure your obsession for the first time and only the obsession can destroy the hex totem created by this perk.

As long as this Hex stays active every other survivor except your obsession suffers from the blindness status effect.

Any generator that has been interacted with by your obsession this match will be blocked by the entity once it reaches 80+% of their progress for 10 seconds.

As long as this Hex stays active your obsession cannot escape the trial by any means and you can kill your obsession by your own hands once the gates are powered.

How far will this starved demon go to save his tastiest meal yet? Find out this 2025 in the new Aristocrats of Evil chapter!

Is this the only khansamah that the fog has taken? Or perhaps.... There's somebody out there willing to push through the mist and darkness to return to his master too? From the role of a survivor, perhaps?

[zhongrin]

Rin if you want lore for the fatui zhongli au. You have a power that helps grant someone some control against karma but not remove it. You are a reincarnation of an adeptus that had the ability to remove karma. Xiao feels warm and safe when he's beside you.

Zhongli actually has fully been corrupted by Karma and his personality is that of a much more evil young morax. You know in his archon outfit his arms look like it has geo power flowing through him. Yeah imagine it through his whole body. The only reason why his face looks normal is because he chooses for it to be like that but he can make it cover his whole face to scare you. He changes his name to Жадность or Zhadnost when In public.

In this au, Xiao was raised as a weapon his whole life and the only love he has ever seen was between you and Zhongli. He thinks this what love was. Maybe you can teach him a different kind of love. Xiao being an adeptus has two delusions which electro and geo. When he uses those delusions, he actually wears a mask that looks like the Yaksha that matched that element. (Electro-Bosacious, Geo Menogias)

Xiao in this au has karmic corruption that effects his arms, eyes and face. It coated his arms in a black color and his eyes glow green and his face starts to have grown horns and it looks like his mask starts to become his face on the top half of his face. Your husband has a special ceremony for Xiao if his karma fully corrupts him. This ceremony is when he either becomes a harbinger or takes Zhongli's place as he has just become like his father and embraced the corruption. His name becomes Испорченный or Isporchennyy.

You can convince your husband to sign adoption papers for xiao but your husband as he says Xiao is too old for that.

Nakazanie has some differences between him and Al haitham. Al haitham has some morals Nakazanie doesn't. Nakazanie is a better fighter than Al haitham. You see scars on Nakazanie'd body. Nakazanie is much quieter too the point you might he is a statue. You also can see something weird with his eyes, his eyes actually switch colors. Your husband has a special control over him that instantly makes him follow orders from Zhongli only.

He has one other mask besides the one you chose the design of. This mask is when you have done something wrong.

When you did something wrong, He is forced to wear this mask which has a voice modulator that makes him sound exactly like Zhongli. The mask that has an eye that has the exact hue and eyeshape of Zhongli's but with a much bigger size Zhongli's. The patterns around the eye are similar to that of king desheret's symbol but with chains. It also has a built in camera where Zhongli can watch you with.

Weird thing that happens in lore, If Zhongli is jealous that Nakazanie is getting too much love. He makes Nakazanie put on the mask (the one you didn't design) on and makes him watch when you and Zhongli display affection silently. If you make zhongli extra jealous, Zhongli does it with his (Nakazanie 's) mask on and makes Nakazanie wear his (Zhongli's) mask on as he clearly thinks you love him more than your first husband.

The eye colors dictate his mode with Nakazanie

Nor Combat personality-Red and green

Your husband's brainwashing-Amber

Agreesive-red

……. brosch i need to. i need to rattle you for this, this is such a good au i'm shdlfhwouedijaonuhedkjasd i've hoarded this enough, it's time to release it to the world 🤲🏻

evil young morax? sign me UP- i mean what /hj

Жадность.... greed hmm. fitting. i imagine with him in place, pantalone will become his subordinate instead of a fellow harbinger bc northland bank would be under his supervision instead?

xiao learning 'love' from watching zhongli's deranged obsessive love i'm 😭 i'm squishing him he deserves all the parental affection he's been deprived of...

GDI ZHONGLI LET ME ADOPT HIM >:T

........ i am beginning to regret accepting al haitham ;;;; he's suffering through so much orz

(some doodles utc bc this au made me brainrot a bit too much 👀)

there's an old snezhnayan saying that's been passed down for thousands of years in the villages near zapolarny palace.

"if you see a lady bearing a fatui insignia in a coat embroidered with a golden dragonー"

"ー run. run, and never look back."

" t h e y a r e w a t c h i n g . "

[anopendoor]

Truth or dare / rival-ish to lovers / boarding school / alcohol / groping / dub-con / mature / drabble 😬

~ For ReyloHot1s ~

🌶️

It started out as a dare.

“Make out with Ben Solo and slip this hot pepper into his mouth.”

Bazine dangled it by the stem in front of Rey’s face. Her nose tingled as the spice prickled her senses. She could already feel her eyes watering.

Rey glanced over across the auditorium where Ben stood with a group of his friends, towering above the rest of them. White button-down and maroon tie. She wanted to yank him by the end of it. Pull him down to her level.

He looked like goddamn sex on legs. He always did. The bastard.

Maybe it was the alcohol she downed in the dorm pre-game, but something made her think she could do it. She could accomplish this dare. She wanted to.

Was it because this was her chance to see what all the fuss was about? To pursue her thinly veiled crush and have an excuse to do more than roll her eyes at him when he did something so stupidly boyish (while looking hot as hell) with his friends? Was it also an opportunity to wipe that smug smile off his face when she planted one on him and passed that pepper between their lips?

Fuck it. She looked hot. Her tits looked great. She’d give him a kiss he’d never fucking forget—

Rey took the little pepper out of Bazine’s outstretched hand and turned on her heel.

“Oh my god, is she really going to—“

She didn’t hear anything else whichever of her friends had to say because she was halfway across the dance floor already. The stem of the pepper twirled between her thumb and forefinger at her side.

Ben caught sight of her approach, his demeanor instantly changing. He straightened, growing impossibly taller. That smirk and lopsided grin sliding into place in greeting.

Cocky bastard.

She noticed how his eyes scanned her in the darkened room. At the tight black tube top she wore that hugged her chest in all the right places. A similar tight black skirt stretched across her hips. His plush lips pressed together as he pushed his enormous hands into his pockets. The air around him sizzled with heat. His friends part, making space for her, eyebrows raised at her courage.

Rey didn’t give him a chance to say the first word, falling into her earlier compulsion and yanking him closer to her by his necktie.

“You’re coming with me.”

🌶️

They moved to a corner of the auditorium to the sound of hoots and low-pitched “Yoooos” trailing behind them as Ben let her drag him away from his friends.

Rey glanced back once to see Vicrul give Ben a bro shake, like he was congratulating him on his accomplishments.

She wondered how smug he’d be in a few minutes. As she had her back to him, Rey put the pepper into her mouth, careful not to bite down just yet.

The beat of the music thumped in time with her pulse as she swung Ben around herself, forcing him against the wall. He hit it with a soft grunt she heard so deep in his chest.

He just watched her, waiting for her to make her move. The air around them was unspoken as the question flitted in her head.

I dare you.

She couldn’t speak with the pepper in her mouth. Didn’t want to accidentally trigger the effects and ruin her chance at winning this dare. She was going to cement her status as Rey Niima: stubborn, (possibly stupid), but a girl you don’t mess with. A girl who doesn’t take anyone’s shit. Least of all Ben Solo.

Without a word she stepped into his space. It was subtle—how his throat bobbed in anticipation, his eyes slightly dropping to this half-lidded expression as they drop to her mouth. His hands didn’t lift to touch her. Not yet. Still waiting for her to determine if they should.

Suddenly, he seemed less like the cock-sure jock that was always messing around with his friends across campus. The rumors of his escapades were endless. He’d often have his arm around a girl in the dining hall, whispering in her ear, making her laugh.

It didn’t make Rey jealous. Not at all. Their dynamic was different. And she wasn’t going to let him know that she wanted to know what all the fuss was about. That their slight rival dynamic wasn’t just because she liked knocking him down a few pegs, but because she thought about the softness of his lips while staring off into space in Chem—

Rey shook her head. Now wasn’t the time for this. Focus.

One hand went up and her fingers curled around his striped Jedi Academy tie. He would wear a piece of his school uniform to the one event where they’re allowed to finally be out of dress code. Rey knew she was pushing it with the sliver of skin exposing her belly. But Ms. Kanata only gave her and her friends a raised brow.

At least, that’s all the reprimanding Rey may get unless she’s caught making out with the school’s star striker in a quieter corner of the auditorium.

Which… is what she should be doing right now. Their friends were surely watching them from across the room. Her friends waiting to see Ben’s reaction. His ready to pat him on the back for getting Rey Niima to actually make a move.

She didn’t just kiss anyone, and definitely not at a school dance. But there’s never been a dare involved before. And she hated to lose.

Deciding it was like ripping a band-aid off, Rey pulled him by his tie and one corner of his shirt collar, closing her eyes as their lips collide.

It was closed-mouthed at first, until she remembered she had a scorching hot pepper on her tongue that she was supposed to swipe with Ben’s. But he was the one who was quick to change that, taking the kiss as his green light.

His hands were on her ass in a second, surprising her as he crushed her against the hard panes of his chest. Rey swore she could feel the ridges of his six-pack against her exposed skin. It was like melding her body against a boulder. She gasped, allowing a small part in her lips which Ben took advantage of.

His tongue dove first, slipping into her mouth and prying her open. She’s so lost in it she forgets about the pepper entirely. Ben didn’t seem to notice. Their tongues tangled together in a dance—or more like a fight for dominance.

The way Ben sucked at her face made her feel like she was his only source of air. And shit, he was really good at it. At making the world fall away and entirely occupying all of her senses.

When it was actually necessary they both breathe, Ben pulled away only to thread one of his hands around her neck, holding her close as he whispered in her ear, “You’re so fucking hot.”

His words made Rey’s molars grind together as the muscles in her body tightened. Heat coursed down her from her head to her toes. Beneath her tight skirt, her thighs pressed against each other, wanting to relieve some of the tension that had sweat beginning to permeate her skin.

As she thought about willing her heart to steady, Ben’s mouth latched back onto hers, satisfied with the effect of his words. When his tongue next delved into her mouth the feeling is sharp, like a white hot slice and—

—and her mouth was on fire.

She must’ve bit down on the pepper, and usually her tolerance for heat is hers alone to tackle, but as the oil from the chili pepper swirled against Ben’s tongue trying to carve out as much space into her mouth as he could, suddenly he stopped.

The spice had to have hit him as Rey sensed her own mouth start to go numb. Ben pulled away and spat on the floor beside them. Rey glanced quickly down to see the half-bitten pepper blearily on the darkened floor.

“The fuck—“ she heard Ben curse as he tried to make sense of her dare.

Except, he didn’t push her away as realization hit in the form of his scorching mouth. Some of the strobe lights from the dance floor flick over to them and Rey could see the intensity in his eyes.

Like a hawk snatching its prey, Ben hunched down.

“You like it when it hurts, Niima?” Ben’s voice grated against her throat. Her mouth was one fire, she couldn’t taste anything. Could hardly feel anything either. Her tolerance for spicy foods was commendable, and yet she burned. Everywhere.

It was a different kind of burn than from the hot pepper she had sliding against her tongue moments before. It was the kind that had all of her nerve endings on fire. A heat that made her heart pound against her chest. This desire to keep it lit is what had her licking a stripe up the column of Ben’s neck. The taste of his sweat tingled against her numbed tastebuds.

She felt his reaction in the grip of his hands on her hips, pulling her tightly against his body as he ground his erection into her. Hard bulge obvious against the soft swell between her hips.

Despite what she tried to do to him, he seemed unfazed. Or rather, the reaction she expected was not what she got.

His mouth found hers again as he mauled at her. As if the harder he kissed her would compensate for the prank she played on him. On herself.

Ben’s hands slid around her ass and he squeezed.

“What I want to do to you,” he growled, loud enough for her to hear as her mouth tore away and she smashed her lips and teeth against his jaw then his jugular.

Her hands scrabbled at his shirt, blindly feeling for his tie and top buttons. He let her do whatever she wanted, mindless to it all except for the task of keeping her close.

Whatever he wanted to do to her, she wanted him to too.

Rey nipped at his skin as his hands kept groping her ass, as if he couldn’t get enough of it. Of her.

His thumbs hooked into the elastic waistband of her skirt and she wished she’d worn a shorter one. One that he could had slid his hand up and touched her where she wanted him to.

Time evaded them as they stayed in that corner. Long enough for the effects of the pepper to wear away. Long enough for Rey to blink and notice the music had stopped and the lights were up.

Rey blinked, tearing herself far enough away for her eyesight to clear. As it does, she noticed Ben’s hair slightly damp and sweaty. His chest panted against hers. His lips were flushed red, likely similar to hers but due to their height difference, Rey’s eyes landed on his neck where pinkish bruises had started to form. His tie was loosened, somehow some of the buttons of his shirt had come undone, likely from her grabbing at him, revealing some of that delectable chest…

At the sound of catcalls and whistles, Rey realized they were no longer shrouded in darkness, that Bazine was cheering her on for fulfilling her dare. That everyone knew just what they were doing.

Surely a chaperone was going to stomp toward them and yank them apart—

“Hey—“ Ben’s voice was hoarse, but it snapped her attention right back to him.

Their bodies were still pressed against each other. She could feel his hand, hot and massive on her back. She couldn’t stop staring at what she did to his neck…

“Wanna go back to my dorm?” That throat bobbed with his words, and while Rey heard them (every deep syllable), it took a while for her to realize just what he’d asked. He was still hard against her, despite their now obvious audience.

It was then that she realized she hadn’t said a word, not since this whole thing started. She wasn’t sure if she even had a voice.

But she did know what she wanted.

Rey’s gaze flicked up to Ben’s, shivering at the look in his eyes. The heat that had nothing to do with the hot pepper (but maybe a little to do with her dare).

She nodded.

Ben reached between them with the hand that wasn’t on her back, adjusting himself, but from what Rey could feel, she wasn’t sure if there was any hiding that.

Guess the rumors about his size were true…

By the expression on Ben’s face as he stared at her, excitement flared in Rey’s belly. Her lips tingled as she licked them, Ben’s gaze darting to it.

“Fuck, Niima.” She liked how he hissed her name.

Then suddenly, he was tugging her away, hand still on her back as he pulled her to his side and made a beeline to the auditorium doors.

“You’re welcome!” Bazine called as they passed their group of friends.

Rey was too preoccupied (and horny) to care.

And maybe she couldn’t feel her mouth anymore—but she knew she was about to feel a whole lot of something else.

(Ben’s 🌶️)