disabled-sysboxes · 6 months ago
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RAMCOA SYSTEM LABELS –
RAMCOA System: A term for systems who have been through RAMCOA.
HC-DID: A term coined for systems who have been through RAMCOA and have an incredibly complex system structure. It stands for “highly complex DID”. 
RC-DID: A term coined for systems who have been through RAMCOA. It stands for “RAMCOA caused DID” or “RAMCOA complex DID”.
RAC-DID: A term for systems who have been through RA. It stands for “Ritual Abuse caused DID”.
OAC-DID: A  term for systems who have been through OA. It stands for “Organised Abuse caused DID”.
EOAC-DID: A  term for systems who have been through EOA. It stands for “Extreme and Organised Abuse caused DID”.
MCC-DID: An umbrella term for system’s who have been through TBMC and / or its sub-types. MCC-DID encompasses TBMCC-DID and HBMCC-DID. It stands for “Mind Control caused DID”
TBMCC-DID: A term for systems who have been through TBMC. It stands for “Torture Based Mind Control caused DID”.
HBMCC-DID: A term for systems who have been through HBMC. It stands for “Hypnosis Based Mind Control caused DID”.
RA System: A term for systems who have been through ritual abuse. Can also be another way of saying “Ritual Abuse caused DID”.
MC System: An umbrella term for systems who have been through TBMC and / or its sub-types. Can also be another way of saying “Mind Control caused DID”.
TBMC System: A term for systems who have been through TBMC. Can also be another way of saying “Torture Based Mind Control caused DID”.
HBMC System: A term for systems who have been through HBMC. Can also be another way of saying “Hypnosis Based Mind Control caused DID”. SBMCC-DID: A term for systems who have been through SBMC. It stands for “Substance Based Mind Control caused DID”. DBMCC-DID: A term for systems who have been through DBMC. It stands for “Drug Based Mind Control caused DID”.
OA System: A term for systems who have been through organised abuse. Can also be another way of saying “Organised Abuse caused DID”.
EOA System: A term for systems who have been through extreme and organised abuse. Can also be another way of saying “Extreme and Organised Abuse caused DID”
Programmed System: A term for systems who have been programmed into being a system.
(A) System With Programming: A term for systems who, at first, weren’t programmed into being a system, but were programmed later in life.
Terms taken from our RAMCOA terms masterlist document.
Decided to make a post that lists all of the definitions / meanings of the terms and will link it in our pinned post.
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neechees · 2 years ago
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oh wow i forgot you liked the ritual haha it’s one of my favorite horror movies! n that’s probably bc i haven’t seen very many and it was one of my first but. it is what it is
i would love to hear some of your thought/things you like about it :)
Ok!!
I think The Ritual can also be seen as having a theme about abuse, but rather than it being between the protagonist & one of his friends or partner, it's between Modr & her cultists/worshippers (& maybe by extension, also shows how cults trap people & victimize them when they're vulnerable). Modr stalks people (& specifically Luke & his friends) & breaks them down until she has the last person, the most "damaged" or traumatized person, to be her worshipper. Just like cults & abusers in real life, Modr chooses someone who's gone through something traumatic to be the singular sole survivor. Witnessing any companions they might've had die brutally & then go through something horrifying, while they are in pain, will make them more likely to accept Modr's offer of either living with these other humans with no pain & never aging, or be brutally murdered. It's essentially a non choice.
Modr also breaks down any support system her sole survivor has & tries to crush any resistance to her, and this is why she kills Hutch first (the most level headed person within the group, the most supportive, the one who's keeping the friends together like glue, the mediator, & the "leader"). Abusers irl also try to cut off their victims' support systems & try to make sure that their victim doesn't retaliate in any way by various means (like physical abuse, gaslighting, emotional manipulation, etc). Modr does all these & manipulates the group using dreams & their loved ones against them.
I think Modr is doing all this in the first place out of fear & desperation: this is just my theory, but I think it's trapped there specifically because paganism at this point is obviously not the main religion within Sweden anymore, & I think Modr's powers & influence come from prayers & worship from humans, so she has to force them into it because she is an unknown god (who became irrelevant due to Christianization of Scandanavia & lost information) & outside of that little neck of the woods, she has no believers & will probably die without them. I think it's possible that the other Norse gods are greatly weakened or maybe even dead in the film because again, lack of worship. Because why would Modr, a Jotun bastard child of Loki, not be in Jotunheim? I think she's stuck there. Her fear is to become forgotten, & so she has to abuse people into worshipping her, & in return she gives them immortality.
Fear is another theme for the movie. I know you could say that about a lot of horror films because, horror lol, but it really does show up in a lot of ways. Fear is what causes Luke to freeze at the convenience store where his friend dies (& this is what starts the whole plot & why they went hiking in the first place), fear is what Modr uses to terrorize the friends to eventually get another follower & what she uses to abuse her worshippers, fear is what drives Modr to do what she does, & fear is what Luke eventually overcomes by being courageous for his escape.
Side notes: I love the theme of friendship between the group. Despite the fact that they, at times, were very hostile towards each other, I didn't really catch onto any toxic masculinity mindsets too much (at least compared to some other films featuring all guys, if & when it was there, it was pretty minor) besides maybe Dom & Luke fighting (& they eventually make up), but you can see a lot of love between them. There's a lot of points where they were very loving & vulnerable with each other while being terrorized & afraid, & it's their love for each other that makes them want to survive. Idk it was a nice thing to see.
& I guess that's it! It's one of my faves too :)
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vilsoo · 4 months ago
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‎ 𝑽𝑰𝑳𝑺𝑶𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑺…
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‎ 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 ‎ ‎ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧… 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫!
‎ 𖤐 ORDER YOUR TICKETS HERE 𖤐 ‎ ֺ [ taglist ]
𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘; 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘… Inspired by Universal Studios Halloween Horror Nights, indulge in sex and horror galore at our premiere Kinktober event, HORRORLAND! Would you dare venture our haunted houses, experience our exhilarating attractions, and uncover the scandalous, deadly mysteries of Horrorland?
fandoms: jujutsu kaisen, spiderman atsv, fnaf, re4, codmw2.
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒
ㅤ ↓ 𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐖 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 (𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓) ↓
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FRIDAYS🩸 we welcome our fellow monster fuckers into this territory! deadly creatures preying on their victims, serving their lustful fantasies with wild, animalistic urges! your arousal and fear may provoke them further, so beware of the woods…
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟒𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ❞ starring GHOST!LEON KENNEDY (re4)
who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead… and ghosts?
⚠︎ CW: mentions of stalking, slight ooc leon, angst, hurt/comfort, haunted vacation home, voyeurism, paranormal activity, sex with a ghost, gentle → rough smut, mirror sex, switchy!leon, 1980s setting.
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟖𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring WEREWOLF!MIGUEL O’HARA (atsv)
during the bloodmoon on halloween, your werewolf boyfriend feels a rapacious urge to knock you up.
⚠︎ CW: established relationship, miguel in heat, rough sex, soft sex, marking, biting, possession, breeding, knotting, impregnating, degrading/praising, power struggle, multiple orgasms, 1980s setting.
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐉𝐄𝐂𝐓 ❞ starring RYOMEN SUKUNA (jjk)
a camping trip you planned with your friends turns out to be a total nightmare, all caught on camera…
⚠︎ TW: suspense, horror/thriller themes, gruesome murder, gore, ritual sex, demon sex, satanism, sadism, betrayal, teratophilia, size kink, double penetration, plot twist, ib the blair witch project (1999), 1980s setting.
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SATURDAYS 🍷 the depths of hell fall on this dark and gloomy city bound to corruption and sin, known as the devil’s playground! lurking within the streets beholds the prurient reigns of terror that which may also arouse parkland guests…
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟓𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ❞ starring NANAMI KENTO (jjk)
with you and your boyfriend being a regular at this fancy restaurant, the owner became very fond of you…
⚠︎ TW: cannibalism, chef/restaurant owner nanami, poisoning, murder, infidelity/cheating, eventual smut, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, jealousy, dark obsession, slight stalking, gore, mutilation.
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟏𝟐𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 ❞ starring WILLIAM AFTON (fnaf)
as the new intern and your boss developing a dark obsession over you, he feels the need to corrupt you…
⚠︎ TW: dubcon, mind control (glitchtrap virus), sadism, murder, psychological abuse, manipulation, predator/prey dynamic, implied age gap, degradation, eventual rough smut, mentions of vanny mask.
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟐𝟔𝐓𝐇: ❝ 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐑𝐄 ❞ starring CHOSO (jjk)
accidentally bringing a girl back from the dead may have been horrifying, but falling in love with her..?
⚠︎ CW: horror/romcom themes, implied necrophilia (NO intercourse), college au, accidental ritual, romance, mentions of murder, suggestive smut, inspired by lisa frankenstein (2024) and corpse bride (2005).
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FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SPECIAL . . . not only are you immersed into the stories of our attractions, you get the real experience of being a parkland guest having a fun time at Horrorland with friends! but as thrilling as it all sounds, there are many scandals and articles of what really goes down…
𖤐 𝐎𝐂𝐓 𝟑𝟏: ❝ 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋? ❞ HEADLINE: PARKLAND VISITOR CAUGHT HAVING INTERCOURSE WITH A SCARE ACTOR!
flirting has become a common fear response when encountering hot masked scare actors chasing you at halloween events. this scandal covers a parkland visitor fawning over the hot scare actor in the Deathgasm haunted house, König, resulting in them flirting and sneaking off together…
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⚠︎ 𝐁𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. ⚠︎
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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐎 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. please do not steal my kinktober prompts/works/themes! reposting any of my works outside tumblr that minors can access is strictly prohibited. will be cross posted on my ao3 soon.
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jessamine-rose · 7 months ago
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⋆˚♱ଘ Requiem for the Damned ଓ♱˚⋆
*holds head in hands* Idk why Dottore keeps haunting me with writing inspo. And for this idea to manifest just before Holy Week….fuck it, I hope you all enjoy the blasphemous tale of Priest! Dottore x Demon! Darling _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):
Tw:: yandere, violence, death, religious abuse, dubcon, mention of nsfw, MINORS DNI
Note:: fictional depictions of religion
♡ 2.7k words under the cut ♡
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♡ Despite your status as a wandering demon, you have no place in human cognizance. Rather, you conceal yourself from mortal eyes in favor of close observations and whispered temptations. Humans, from your perspective, are interesting creatures—they are ambitious, easily influenced by spiritual beings, capable of both good and evil.
♡ And what better example than the one who summoned you on a starry night? Such rituals are not uncommon amongst heretics, but most only succeed in invoking the contempt of their fellow humans. And few would invoke your name, much less commit sacrilege within the walls of the Church.
♡ You sense danger immediately upon your appearance. Within the summoning circle, you take note of your sigil perfectly illustrated in blood against marble. Beyond it, what alarms you is not your sacred surroundings nor the fresh corpse mixed with your offerings of books and fruit. It is the figure standing over you, cloaked in moonlight, gazing at you with eyes the color of hellfire.
“My ritual is a success. Welcome to my humble church, o noble demon…or would you rather be addressed by your epithet? ______, Fallen Seraph, the Seeker of Forbidden Knowledge.”
♡ A glimpse into his soul is all it takes to strike fear into your heart. Within Hell, there are rumors of a small village in Sumeru. Its people are nothing of note, a congregation of simpletons whose lives revolve around the beliefs of their Church. The lone exception is the main priest, Father Zandik, better known as Il Dottore.
♡ The stories, passed through human voices, speak of a child ostracized for his unconventional beliefs and his interest in the macabre. Branded a madman, he was placed in the care of the Church elders who corrected his ways of thinking. Once he became of age, Zandik was given the choice to move out of the rectory or to remain as a priest; he chose the latter of his own volition.
♡ Since his ordination, Zandik has proved himself to be an exceptional priest. He educates the masses, reviews theological texts, performs exorcisms, and provides religious counsel for the doubtful. He even serves as the town’s doctor, fully gaining the acceptance of his community.
♡ The rumors don’t stop there. For Il Dottore earned his title by performing miracles. It is he who guides the people into religious ecstasy, he who cures the sick from mysterious curses, he who blesses the weak into “enhanced humans.” There are already whispers that once Dottore’s mortality catches up with him, he will surely be canonized as the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles.
♡ But spiritual beings such as yourself know the truth. That Dottore is neither a kind priest nor a devout believer, that his days in the Church only magnified his heretical inclinations. Disillusioned with God, Zandik decided to turn His religious sanctuary into his own laboratory, one where he could fulfill his lust for knowledge through a mask of holiness.
♡ He manipulates the people with false teachings. He triggers religious ecstasy with drugged incense. He singles out devotees to “test their faith” during the quiet hours of the Church. And what the town perceives as curses and miracles are actually scientific experiments in which Dottore plays god.
♡ It’s too late to escape. No matter your divine powers, nothing prepares you for Dottore’s traps. The incantations, the barrier of the summoning circle, an aura so holy yet sinister that it couldn’t possibly come from ordinary religious objects—all you can do is fall to your knees and beg for his mercy, all the while he watches you with a confident smile.
♡ His intentions are like that of any human: He summoned you to form a contract. In exchange for his soul, he demands your knowledge, your resources, your full servitude for so long as he roams the mortal plane. Your hesitation only triggers another wave of scorching pain, followed by panic as Dottore grips your horn and forces you to face him.
“Make no mistake, ______. The mere fact of your divinity does not make you indestructible. In exchange for your cooperation, you will bear witness to experiments of the same magnitude as God’s creations. What say you?”
♡ You have no other choice. And that is how, in the sanctity of the Church, you make a deal with the human named Zandik. Once the pact has been forged, Dottore admires the bright sigil on his chest, plucks a few feathers from your wings, and disables the summoning circle so you can leave. Thus begins your personal hell.
♡ It is easy for you to answer Dottore’s questions about the divine. The horror lies in assisting him in experiments, responding to his summons no matter the inconvenience, allowing him to extract your blood, tears, and feathers. No, what’s most humiliating is when he uses your body for his “research,” bending you over the altar and bringing you to physical ecstasy against your will.
♡ At this point, you don’t know who to pray to. One night, Dottore shows you a secret room in his laboratory. As soon as he lights the lamps, your eyes take in numerous bodies and skeletons of a different classification from his usual victims. The extra bones jutting from the scapulas, the amputated wings, the halos pinned to the walls, the holy aura you’d felt from his religious objects…instantly, Dottore’s powers make sense.
“This is my first specimen. She was my guardian angel…no, I jest. She was a mere messenger who implored me to repent for my sins. From her words, I deduced it had been within Heaven’s capacity to save me during my youth—and yet God only sent an angel to me after my first act of blasphemy.”
The angels…how many has he killed? Not even during your fall from Heaven did you feel such primal fear for your life. But you cannot scream—you have long been trained to resist fight and flight. All you can do is listen to Dottore’s explanation, watch as he approaches a pure white skeleton and wraps his hands around its fractured hyoid bone.
He gives you a calm smile. “Luckily, her body provided me with indispensable resources for my experiments and my procurement of her brethren. I believe her name was Sohreh.”
♡ Just when you think it can’t get any worse, Dottore points at the far corner of the room to reveal a space dedicated to demons. Four dead bodies, their causes of death vividly described. Horns, wings, and other body parts amputated in exchange for lives spared after exorcisms. And when Dottore returns to your side, tracing the wound from where he broke off your horn, you can only tremble and acquiesce to a checkup. It grows back fully by the end of the year.
♡ He has his moments of vulnerability, however. Perhaps it is due to your nature as a demon, a creature which represents evil, that Dottore does not hide his heart from you. Once, after his usual confessions—he always makes up trivial sins—he remains in the confessional until his fellow priest has left. Then he goes to the altar and summons you.
♡ What catches you off-guard is not his lack of greetings. Rather, it’s the way he pulls you close to his body, lips ghosting the curve of your ear. There, in the heart of the Church, he whispers to you every sin he has ever committed. Despite his normal tone of voice, his words have never betrayed a language so guiltless, so sincere, so human.
♡ He asks how much of his madness is to blame on the influence of demons, or if he had been born wicked. He asks if humans were truly given the mental faculties to withstand temptation regardless of their circumstances. He asks if the same can be said for spiritual beings, questioning why former angels like you were also created with the capacity to sin. He even asks if praying for a demon can offer them any hope of salvation.
♡ It takes you a while to answer his questions. It’s just like him to put your emotions in disarray, to make you feel pity for the very cause of your current suffering. Against your nature, you wonder if there is still a chance for Zandik, if he can somehow repent or find a way to save himself from your contract and all of his sins. Even if it is too late, He has always been more forgiving to humans than angels.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨
“Do you know why I became a demon, Zandik?”
Your question is what prompts Zandik to pull away from you, though his touch lingers. His gaze, as always, is unfathomable; you can never discern what hides within those pools of crimson.
“No, I do not. Few demonological texts allude to your existence, and only the Lesser Key of Deshret cites your previous status as an angel of the highest ranking. I have made theories in relation to your epithets but I respect all possibilities. Now what would you, as the primary source, reveal to me?”
Now it is your turn to confess.
“Seraphim are the closest to God but for that reason, we are the most distant from His creations. Everything we know of the world is derived only from what He tells us, not our own insights. And so I defied His Word and ate the forbidden fruit from the Tree of Knowledge, committing the same sin which condemned all of humanity.”
The tip of your upper wing brushes against Zandik’s face, while your middle wings encircle his body in a loose hug. As for your lower wings…they are nothing but twin scars covered in short feathers. After your descent, it seemed like a rational decision to chop them off, broken as they were. It helped that your wings had just outgrown their original purpose.
For once, you barely flinch at the sensation of his touch against your scars. Many times, Zandik has inquired about the loss of your lower wings and even asked if he could have them. They still remain in Hell, tucked away in a corner of your home, eyes forever closed.
It takes a few seconds for him to respond. “Do you ever regret your decision?”
You shrug. “It was difficult at first, naturally. Many of my eyes were blinded—yes, that is why I rarely open the ones on my wings—but those which still function have seen so many wonderful sights up-close. Neither must I cover my face with my remaining wings. And despite being what your kind and my former brethren would dub a monster…I’m happier now.”
“I see, I see.” His curiosity appears far from sated, however, a sentiment you can empathize with. “As I thought, God is incomprehensible. For Him to deny even His greatest creation of salvation…it confirms that there are limits to the forgiveness of that which humans call a ‘loving god.’ Thank you for sharing this knowledge with me.”
And just as quickly as he initiated his confession, Zandik steps out of your grasp and dismisses you. But you make no haste, silently watching him after you “leave.”
His expression is thoughtful. A gloved hand touches his chest, right above your sigil.
Such an interesting creature.
Honestly, you don’t know what to make of your feelings for this human. Much as you despise his cruel treatment towards you, he never fails to capture your interest with his experiments and philosophies. Whenever he speaks of God, you wonder if a small part of him still desires to be saved. But that will never be.
Zandik preaches salvation with the knowledge that he will never receive it. For the Church never taught him how to love.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨
♡ Il Dottore never became the Patron Saint of Doctors and Miracles. Neither did he have a funeral mass befitting of a priest, nor a peaceful death from natural causes. Instead, he died young, laicized, once again denounced as a heretic by his community.
♡ You don’t know how his crimes were exposed, and why now. Perhaps it is God’s punishment for him, a blessing for his victims, or both. Either way, Dottore paid for his sins on a sunny day, burned at the stake before a disdainful crowd. Not long after his heart stopped beating, his belongings were thrown into the fire—research, tools, anything which carried his memory.
♡ You never left his side. After his last rites, led by an elderly bishop who condemned Zandik as he did in the past, you sat next to him and offered a final conversation. He didn’t express any fear nor sadness in regards to his imminent death, merely stating it a pity that his achievements could never be appreciated in his town.
♡ …He did ask if there is any chance of meeting again in Hell, but you reminded him that the punishment of sinners is out of your jurisdiction. Plus, it’s better that way—you have no desire to avenge yourself, and you’d rather not witness Zandik’s suffering for all eternity. You can only imagine the severity of his punishment, what more if he is assigned to one of the demons he exorcized.
♡ During his execution, you stood at the front of the crowd. You kept your eyes trained on him, for so long as his scarlet orbs remained open, whispering the prayers for the dead on his behalf. While a part of you felt liberated, another was mournful. You hope your last words to Zandik gave him solace in his final moments.
“Rest now, Zandik. God may never forgive your sins, but I shall.”
♡ And thus ends the life of Il Dottore. In the following days, the Church is purged of its holy, sinister aura, mainly because they discarded the religious objects tainted with angel remains. You continue your usual obligations as a wandering demon, but the humans you observe pale in comparison to your companion of many years.
♡ Not long after, you return to Hell for your other divine duties. As soon as you appear in your abode, however, something feels off. The sinister aura, the offering of books and fruit, your lower wings gone from their original place… The answer comes in the form of a hand grabbing you by the horn, pulling you backwards, twisting your body to meet a familiar gaze the color of hearth-fire. Only, this time, those eyes are brimming with pure joy, paired with a genuine smile.
♡ Apparently, Dottore’s soul did end up in Hell but not in the way you expected. In a proud voice, he explains that the Devil gave him a special fate. Whether it was due to vacant positions or everyone’s fear of the infamous “Demon-Killer,” you’ll never know. What Dottore does confirm is that as the demon bound to him via contract, you have to take responsibility and act as his companion in Hell.
“Rather than subject me to eternal suffering, the Devil believed that my talents would prove useful for the punishments of my fellow sinners. How wonderful is it for my achievements to be recognized in Hell? …Oh? I didn’t predict such a physical reaction from you. All of your eyes are wide open, and you seem to be on the verge of fainting.”
♡ You don’t know if you want to laugh or cry. To think your personal hell has been extended to eternity—are your sins enough to warrant such a fate?! But after confirming your misfortune, all you can do is sigh and tend to Zandik. He looks exactly the same, with the exception of a few burn scars on his body. And judging by the familiar black feathers on his person, he seems eager to discard his former religious attire along with his mask of faith.
♡ And when Zandik unfastens his scorched cassock, he takes your hand and places it on his unburned chest, right above your sigil. It glows vibrantly, brighter than any light you laid eyes on in Heaven. And beneath the flesh, you can feel his heart beating in sync with yours.
“Tell me, ______, do I still appear human to you?”
“You already know my answer to that question. But fine, I’ll admit it: Yes, you always have.”
♡ 
More Church AU here!! Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro ๑ Dainsleif
Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.
At long last, I am free from Priesttore…thank you to everyone. To my readers, to my fellow Dottore simps, to my mutuals who indulged my tortured DMs after midnight, to the artist whose fan art inspired this idea to begin with. May you all have a lovely day╰(*´︶`*)╯♡
Tag a Dottore enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @mochinon-yah @diodellet @lcveaesop @oofasleep @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @boundinparchment @harmonysanreads @teabutmakeitazure @yandere-wishes @yanmaresu @nicebonescomrades @nimandu @lesanyanyas @moarar
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whispereons · 1 year ago
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Oracle!Reader Part 4
Masterlist - Part 1, Part 3, Part 5
TW: this has death, mentions of child abuse, and more heavy topics. Remember that SAGAU is (usually) a yandere au and yanderes are a warning by themselves. Plus SAGAU is a cult, that makes it 10x worse depending on how it is. You've been warned.
You wake up feeling refreshed for once. You managed to get a full sleep and when you felt your face, the mask was still there. As you get off the bed your foot touches the bag the clothes were brought in. Now with more clothing options, you take a shower ready to properly wash your body.
The shower attached to your room was small and clean. This wasn't earth so no shower or bathtub but what they had was the closest to it since the Kamisato's were rich. In fact, you would even say it's better than Earth. Were the water bills here as high as it is on Earth?
You soaked in the warm water as you scrubbed away the filth. From the dirt to the dried blood and the pus from the electric wounds. Your hands traced the faint scars that covered your body. Little nicks from knives to full-on stab wounds from a certain relative.
Some days they felt like battle scars. You looked at them proud of how far you've come, how much you've survived from. Other days or most days you should say, they felt like your failures were on display. Whether from lack of awareness or for failing to save him.
The thought of him still makes you sad even though it's been years since it happened. It seems being in another world in a whole new situation couldn't shake his influence from your life. You aren't completely sure if that's a good or bad thing.
You finish your bath and apply first-aid to the minor wounds. You were quite skilled in this area from years of practice. Looking through the bag with a critical eye you choose one of the new outfits. It's unlike anything on earth. Both in style and fabric. Actually that's probably cause you were never able to afford high-quality clothes like this.
In typical Genshin fashion, it was asymmetrical with many accessories. You left most of the accessories in the bag and only wore the body suit pieces with the shirt and pants. Your feet cried in relief with the new socks and shoes.
As you finish doing your hair, someone knocks on the door. You open it to see a servant handing you a tray of food.
"Good morning, I'm here to deliver your food and a message." You take the tray from them and listen.
"The weekly festival and ritual for the creator will be happening this afternoon. As such Lord Kamisato has requested that you leave for Ritou after it. 'An oracle should attend even if not publicly. Especially as it's the Kamisato Clan's turn this week.' That is what Lord Kamisato message says."
Fuck. A ritual and festival for you? That's just begging for your bad luck to bite you in the ass again. You can already see yourself accidentally meeting Ei there.
"Thoma will bring you there after lunch. If you have any more questions please don't hesitate to ask." The servant gives you a moment to voice any questions before leaving.
Everything you wanted to ask isn't something they could have answered so it was best to wait till Thoma picked you up. You set the tray down and begin eating, it seemed this day wasn't going to be any less hectic than yesterday.
You were stuck in the estate while waiting for Thoma to pick you up. You couldn't leave in fear of meeting an enemy and dying. You may be the creator and should be a god therefore immortal. But did you really want to test that? No. You've skimmed by death enough times to know it's painful.
Trying to be productive you thought back on when you first arrived on Seirai Island. Now that you have a good identity with the Kamisato's approval you need to worry about living difficulties.
How will you get mora? A job would be best but you need one that allows you to travel around. You couldn't risk getting attached to one place in case your identity is compromised. It also can't be stationed in Inazuma meaning Komaniya Express was out of the question. The Adventurers' Guild was the only option.
You could probably sign up sometime during the festival but that could be risky if Ei requests their records to search for you. If the opportunity arises then you'll sign up today, if not then you'll do it in Liyue.
Since you'll be traveling around then a home or apartment isn't necessary. You'll probably need some camping gear to sleep and cook. Thankfully your life on earth has already taught you what you do and don't need. Plus a weightless game bag with little to no limit is priceless.
Now the hardest part is how you'll deal with the enemies. You don't know how to wield a weapon outside of a pocket knife and you had no controllable elemental powers. (The anemo and geo that helped you yesterday did not count. You couldn't actively call upon them.)
Learning a weapon was hard. A brand new skill and you weren't even sure which would work best with you. No vision, delusion (not that you would ever use one), gnosis, or main character powers like the traveler. You were really in a tight position, would the Guild even hire you?
The moment you think that you almost laugh at yourself. If reckless Pallad who was so weak he couldn't run away from slimes. Clueless Lynn that couldn't find apples or sunsettias unless they were handed to her. And Tiantian who doesn't even know what the Adventurer's Guild does could all be hired, then so can you.
That doesn't fix the initial problem as they all stay in their nations while you'll be traveling. Hilichurls and other monsters' aggressiveness may have been exaggerated for the games sake. But that doesn't mean they aren't aggressive and can't attack you.
A series of knocks matching a melody are heard on the door. Were you really deep in thought for that long?
Opening the door, Thoma stands on the other side with a smile. "Y/N, are you ready to get going? The festival is going to start soon and my lord went early with my lady to prepare the ritual. I can show you around it while we wait for the main event."
His fast-paced speech showed off just how excited he was. It was a cute sight. Would this count as a date?
"Yeah, I'm ready to go. Everything I have is in my bag."
"Perfect then let's get going." Thoma takes your hand and leaves the estate with you. You begin the trek with Thoma when you remember your original questions about the ritual.
"So this must be pretty popular if it's done every week. In the message Ayato sent me, he said it was the Yashiro Commission's turn. Does that mean the other Commissions take the other weeks? Who does the last week?"
"The last week is a collaboration of the Tri-Comission with the Elctro Archon in charge. We take the first week, the second week is the Kanjou Commission, and the third week is the Tenryou Commission. It's courtesy for each commissioner to attend them all but the Electro Archon only attends hers."
So no accidentally running into Ei at the festival? Perfect but you'll still be on guard. Ei may be the biggest threat but you haven't forgotten the others. Ayato, Yae, and Heizou were the top people to avoid to keep your identity. You had no choice but to meet Ayato and even though it worked out, you didn't want a repeat of that.
"Then the last one must be the most exciting. Can you tell me more about what to expect?" Thoma helps you past the rocky path as you are halfway to Inazuma City. His grip is tight when you jump off a particularly steep ledge.
"When we get there the ritual won't start yet but the festival will be in full swing. You'll be free to walk around and look at the stalls. Food, drinks, games, merchandise of the creator, and even some small plays."
"Merchandise and plays?" It's weird thinking that you have official merch. Especially since no one knows that you are the face of said merchandise. You'll probably need to buy some to upkeep your oracle schtick.
"Yup! Merchandise can range from posters, clothing, plushies, and even decorative food. The scriptures say that the creator is especially fond of F/F." Wow, they even know your favorite food.
"Would they be selling the actual food at the festival too?" Please say yes. You've been dying to eat something from your world. Teyvat is great and you don't miss your old life but that doesn't mean you don't miss the things you used to have there.
"Of course they do! Everyone loves to experience what the creator loves to feel closer to them. As for the plays, they differ every so often. Sometimes it's the classic 'Creator making Teyvat' while sometimes it's something more farfetched like 'Creator using the traveler and acolytes for their will'."
You're not sure if your wish is arrogant but you kinda want to see one of these plays. Hopefully, if you have the time you can watch one before the festival ends. You can see Inazuma City coming closer and closer.
"Then what exactly is the ritual?"
Thoma smiles mischievously at your insistent question. "You'll just have to wait and see. Since the creator sees through you best, we wanted it to be a surprise."
Sighing you give up, it didn't really matter since you'll be seeing it in person. You climb the steps and finally look around as the surroundings slowly got more colorful. Banners of you with a gold cloak on are situated all around.
Awed you let Thoma lead you deeper into the city. Many stalls were set up with everything Thoma said. The people were no longer NPCs with similar models and nearly identical clothes. Instead, people of all types were chatting as they walked the streets. Colorful kimonos, yukatas, and what were those called? Happi? Either way, the sheer variety and amount of people stunned you. The 'crowds' in Genshin always looked lackluster so this was a wonderful surprise.
All around you could hear everyone speaking about someone. About you.
"What a beautiful work of art. I'm sure the creator would be pleased if I hung this up in my house."
"The perfect figurine of the creator. I'm sure this shows only a fraction of their perfection."
"Mommy, can I please see the play? Mr. Sorahiko promised to do the play about the creator and the archons. It's my favorite one!"
"Yet again I had enough rent and a free day to attend the first ritual of the month. Our beloved creator always looks out for us."
Man, you weren't sure how they would react if they knew you were the creator. In fact would you even still be the same if you lived a year or two as the creator? You're most likely to get a savior or god complex judging by how they talk about you.
Thoma smiles at the sight of your excitement. The way your eyes never stop on one place for too long. Your fidgeting as if you can't wait to be freed and explore. He had made sure to have this time off to spend it with you. He wanted to spend as much time with you until you left.
"Y/N, I'll show you the best spots and places. Trust me when I say that-"
"THOMA!" Thoma is cut off by the yell of his name. The way his eyelids drop and his lips scowl for a second show his annoyance. Was this person super annoying or something?
It's an old man with balding white hair and a slightly hunched back. He's behind the counter of Shimura's restaurant. He must be the owner, Shimura Kanbei.
"Thoma get over here! I need to speak with you!" Yeah, you can definitely understand Thoma's annoyance now. From what you can remember Shimura only ever bitched about Uyuu restaurant. But he was also a samurai so maybe that's why he's so rowdy?
Thoma smiles apologetically at you and says, "Just give me a minute please." You nod and watch Thoma go to Shimura. They talk and Thoma seems very insistent on something while Shimura keeps refusing. Seems Thoma lost the argument by the way he walks back to you with a disappointed expression.
"I'm sorry Y/N, I won't be able to spend time with you like I wanted. I owe Mr. Shimura a favor and he wants to cash it in now. I tried to convince him to let me repay it another time but it seems he needs it now. Again I'm really sorry Y/N."
Thoma's head was hanging and his eyes were closed with resignation. It was like looking at a sad puppy who was being punished for breaking his toy. You can't resist reaching over to pat his hair.
His eyes shoot open in confusion but he doesn't move away. He only stares at you with an unreadable expression and an embarrassed flush. You can't help but laugh a little and move your hand away after getting your fill of patting him.
"Sorry if that was sudden. You just looked really cute, like a puppy. You don't have to apologize for doing your job Mr. Fixer. This isn't the last time we'll see each other so go ahead and help the old man."
He looks away with a smile when you call him cute. He enjoys the way his face feels hot when you are around. The feeling of your hand on his hair was surprising but very nice. He wished you left it there a little longer. Maybe even forever.
"Thank you Y/N, I'll finish this up quickly and then join you! But before I forget, here, this is for you from my lord and lady." Thoma takes out a thick pouch and hands it to you.
The clinking, weight, and shape of the pouch give it away immediately. You open it a little to see loads of mora inside it. You could kiss Ayato, Ayaka and Thoma. You were no longer broke! Eagerly you put it into your bag for safekeeping.
"Use the money for whatever you wish. It's a present from them."
'I'll be sure to thank them when I see them. And thank you too Thoma for delivering it and escorting me here. Now go finish helping Shimura, we can hang out afterward."
Thoma smiles and jogs back to Shimura. You wave goodbye before strolling down the street. Once you get to a less crowded area you sit down and open your bag.
The game screen pops up and although the pouch is no longer there, your mora has gone way up. Instead of 108 mora, it's now 150, 108 mora. Knowing someone else gave you this money purely for whatever you want is really nice... Is this how Zhongli feels whenever Hu Tao and Childe pay for him?
Well, you won't be using most of this money, an oracle that wishes to stay hidden should live a frugal lifestyle. Plus you never know when you'll need to pay someone off to keep your face hidden. Even still spending some of the money now to enjoy this festival wouldn't be that bad. Right?
With renewed enthusiasm, you set off to explore the stalls. You make sure to keep your eyes peeled for any signs of Yae or Heizou. But it's all smooth sailing.
You get to a stall selling F/F and buy one. The taste is wonderful even though it's not exactly the same as the one you used to eat on Earth. Spotting a different stall selling Tricolor Dango, you get closer.
There's a little sign that says. "Tricolor Dango Creator Edition! Limited Sale!" It seems even here merchants won't lose a chance to make mora. The Dango is blue, gold, and purple colored. Curious you buy one and try it.
It's actually really good and it felt slightly nostalgic. Looking at the second one you bought, you stare at it trying to recall where you've seen the colors before.
It hits you that it's the same colors of the Fates you wish for in Genshin. Blue for the 3 stars, purple for the 4 stars, and gold for the 5 stars. They sold this as the 'Creator Edition' does that mean they can see your wishes?
A loud sound interrupts your train of thought. You and a few other bystanders look over to see Gorou looking distraught at his Tricolor Dango on the floor. A knocked-down stack of boxes on the ground and oh boy, Yae Miko standing right with him.
You can't hear what Yae is saying to Gorou as he fixes the boxes. But you can see the very uncomfortable look on Gorou's face as she circles him. You want to leave, Yae is not someone you want to get the attention of.
Steeling yourself to turn around and walk away, you try to look away. Yet you can't stop looking at just how badly Gorou wants to escape her. It bothers you to no end. You glance at the Tricolor Dango he dropped. It's the same creator edition dango you bought.
You groan and start walking over to them. This was so stupid, you were so stupid. Reckless, dumb, softhearted and-
You continue to beat yourself up as you confidently walk over to them. Yae looks at you with slight confusion as you sling an arm around Gorou's shoulder. The look on his face is hilarious.
"Hey, Gorou! Good to see you came back to Narukami Island so soon. I know you came back for your gig at the Yae Publishing House but I never even got to see you. C'mon, let's hang out while we have the chance. Oh, and you must be the Yae Miko right? A pleasure to meet you, I hope you don't mind me stealing him. Thank you, goodbye~"
You drag out the last syllable as you simultaneously drag Gorou away. Yae doesn't follow you to your relief and Gorou simply lets you pull him away. Once you're far enough away you let go of his shoulder and take a step away.
"So uh about what I said. You know what let me just be honest. I'm the creator's oracle and that's how I knew all that personal information about you. You just looked super uncomfortable around Yae that I couldn't walk away." Rubbing the back of your neck you look at Gorou sheepishly.
"Wow, that's uh a lot to process at once but let me thank you first. I was really uncomfortable. She isn't some horrible person but I'm not the best at countering her teasing attacks. Thanks for helping me retreat from that situation." Yeah, you did it at the cost of your own safety.
Even still the way his tail wags a little as he speaks and his ears twitch makes you want to reach out and pet them. Now that you can properly look at him, it was incredible to see actual animal ears on a person. You try to tamper down your excitement but it's a little hard since they move so often.
That's also when you notice the way Gorou is staring at your dango. His poor dango was left on the floor and he does have a big sweet tooth. Ah it's just one dango, you can get more dango later. You hold your dango out to him with a smile.
"I'm pretty sure Yae startled you making you drop your dango. You can have mine, it's the same limited creator edition." Gorou seems a bit bashful at his obvious desire but takes it from you gratefully.
"Thank you again. Even though you know my name I would still like to properly introduce myself. I'm General Gorou of the Watatsumi Island resistance. Even though the war is over, we still have official duties to maintain peace which is why I commute over here. What's your name?"
"My name is Y/N, as I told you earlier I'm the creator's oracle. As proof, I do have a fan given to me by the Yashiro commissioner." You take the fan out and it glistens in the sunlight. Gorou's eyes widen at the sight of it. Was it really that influential?
"I mean I already mostly believed you simply by the information you knew but to have Lord Kamisato's fan is impressive. It's an honor to meet you Y/N being the creator's oracle must be an envious position. That also explains why my body was weirdly okay with you pulling me along."
He really believed it just like that? Gorou isn't from Narukami yet he held the fan in such high regard. You mentally thank Ayato and have a feeling you'll be thanking him a lot more after this.
Gorou finishes the dango in record speed while you spot a stall selling creator merchandise. Gorou follows your eyes and stands next to you, his soft tail brushes against your skin. Man, you really want to pet him.
"Do you want to check out that stall together? I mainly came here for the festival and I already completed the work I had to do. It would be great to explore the festival with you."
You nod excitedly and tug at his wrist. "I don't remember much before I became the oracle so I want to explore everything! It wouldn't be embarrassing for the creator's oracle to buy some of their merch right?"
"Of course not! There is a lot of good things only available during the festival. And afterward, I can show you the best spot to see the ritual." Gorou lets you pull him to the stall full of creator accessories.
Really you just wanted something that would make you seem like a big fan of the creator. Nothing super stalkerish level but noticeable to those who are cultish, like the acolytes.
You look around at the items on the stall with Gorou. Nothing catches your eye until you spot a bracelet. The design is what really drew your attention.
The bracelet was gold with Intertwined Fates and Acquaint Fates as charms. It's incrediably beautiful but also worrying. How did they know this symbol when it's only in the Wish system and Paimon's Bargains?
Right when you're about to ask the vendor, Gorou looks at it and says, "Oh, I recognize those, pretty aren't they? It's written in the scriptures that when the creator is close to coming back they will use stars with fate's design to input their will into their chosen acolytes. I'm lucky to be one of them."
So that's how they know. Quite clever how they input the word fate into it hinting at the name intertwined fate. Or was it the other way around?
"Such rich history. I may be knowledgeable in some areas concerning the creator but in others, such as the history, I'm lacking. I hope by traveling around Teyvat I can grow closer to the creator."
"Don't say that Y/N! You are like a signal officer for the creator, hold that position with pride. No one expects you to be perfect right away. I don't know you very well but I can already see how hard-working you are."
Well, he wasn't wrong. Making up a whole new identity in a new world is hard work. But you decided not to buy the jewelry or anything else. Who knows what kind of act you may need to use later on? Expensive jewelry like that could hinder you more than anything.
"Thanks Gorou, I'll do my best to live up to the title of oracle. But enough about that, let's continue exploring. In fact, do you smell that? I can basically taste all the food they have here."
Gorou perks up at your words and points toward another stall.
"Do you like sweet food? I know all the best ones here. Even if you don't we can start there with the dango milk, it's a good warm-up for the other treats!"
You follow Gorou to the stall and order your own dango milk. Thick, sweet, and a weird texture? You can see why Ei likes it but you can also understand why Wanderer hates it. In fact, knowing that Ei loves this is ruining the taste.
"Are you okay Y/N? You don't seem to enjoy it. If you don't that's okay, not everyone likes it."
"I'm fine but yeah I don't really like it. Maybe because it's too filing." You chuckle weakly. You were enjoying yourself so much that the thought of Ei really ruined your mood.
Gorou glances around before gently holding your wrist and leading you to an empty bench. He makes you sit down before giving a 'wait here' gesture and leaving. You look at his retreating form in confusion and simply sit there.
You didn't do a good job hiding your emotions just then but his actions were still confusing. Wouldn't someone normally just say encouraging things and leave it there? You just met him today after all.
While you were still wrapping your head around his actions, Gorou comes back holding a box. He sits next to you and opens the box while speaking.
"I'm in no position to make you talk or vent your frustrations to me but I'm a firm believer in speaking your mind. Muzzling up all your thoughts never helps anyone. I may not have the perfect advice or any advice but I'm a good listener. But if none of those things interest you then you can eat this box of sweets with me."
He opens the box showing it full of taiyaki, sakura mochi, sweet shrimp sushi, and berry mizu manjuu. The way he holds it in his lap while offering it to you is like some teenager confessing. Especially with how his ears flatten on his head with his tail wagging slowly.
You can't help but feel thankful that out of everyone that you accidentally slipped up in front of, it was Gorou. Not only because he was a good person, but because he was the type of person to not overlook someone else's problems. At least that was the impression you got from him when he chose the books that would help Watasumi Island in that one event.
You smile shyly and grab one of the fish-shaped Taiyaki. The jam is sticky and sweet mixing with the crunchiness of the shell well.
"Well, I can't say too much about it but you're right that speaking a little will probably help me." You take a deep breath before retelling what happened with Ei. Of course, you used metaphors, alias, and even more tricks to hide the real story while getting the main conflict across.
As you speak, your emotions bleed through. You take angry bites of your treats leaving little crumbs on the corner of your mouth. Gorou is intently listening and nodding along the whole time. Absentmindedly he reaches out and brushes away the crumbs.
Both of you freeze once the action is done. You pull away with a slight blush and Gorou yanks his hand back as his tail wags rapidly.
"I'm so sorry! I was so caught up listening to you that I did that automatically." His face is starting to get redder and redder with each word. He buries his face into his hands in embarrassment.
You grin devilishly at the opportunity that luck has presented you with. You weren't Yae but a chance is a chance. You would be a fool to give it up.
"I understand and don't worry I'm not bothered by it. Just a bit surprised. But it's a bit unfair isn't it?"
"What do you mean?" Gorou looks up from his hands as he feels a chill go down his spine.
"Well you got to touch me, shouldn't I get to touch you as payback?" Gorou's ears go straight up and his face all the way to his neck goes red.
"I'm talking about your ears of course! Your animal features are most similar to a Shiba Inu right? I would love to pet your ears." You can't tell if Gorou is relieved or disappointed by how he sighs.
"Y-Yeah, I guess I can allow that. Is it really that tempting?" He moves to sit by your side rather than in front of you. Now with him almost pressed against your side you pet his ears. Almost immediately he whimpers at your touch.
"Please. Please ignore the sounds, I can't exactly stop them." He basically begs you. With a small laugh, you decide to go easy on him and not comment on it. Instead, you focus on how his soft ears twitch under your hand.
As you continue quietly petting him, he seems to relax further into you. Before long the almost empty box of sweets is beside you with Gorou's head on your lap.
Was he sniffing you?… Should you take it as a compliment or as something creepy? Well it's normal for dogs to smell people and you weren't being any better petting him like this. So maybe you're both weird and it's best to ignore it.
His eyes are closed with his cheek laying on your lap. His tail wags rapidly thumping against the wood of the bench. He mumbles sounds of contentment with whimpering mixed in. It's an incredibly cute sight. To the point where perhaps everything you went through was worth it for this moment.
You sneakily pet his tail, to which his tail responds eagerly by wagging harder. Gorou is seriously lucky nobody is around to witness this. It's ironic how just like you helped him from Yae, he helped you deal with Ei. It makes you feel a certain sense of kinship with him. Even if yours was significantly more dangerous.
"Y/N, there you are!" You jump at the sudden yell of your name and Gorou immediately sits up straight. Gorou whips his head around a bit dazed trying to find the source of the noise.
"I'm sorry it took so long, where were you anyway? The ritual is about to start." Thoma jogs closer to you and Gorou- did Gorou just growl at him?
You stare at Gorou in slight disbelief, maybe he was still out of it from sleeping? Yet Thoma seemed to respond in kind by grabbing your hand and pulling you up onto your feet, away from Gorou.
"You were hanging out with Gorou? Makes sense as he tends to come over a lot for the festival and work."
Thoma's words may be friendly but the way he was staring at Gorou told a whole different story. Gorou stands up from the bench too with his ears straight up in alert. Gorou stares at him with a barely concealed growl while Thoma smiles with gritted teeth.
Holy shit, they were never this hostile before. Well, they never interacted or had any voice lines with each other but they are both just friendly people in general. Why the hell are they even fighting? You know what the cause doesn't matter anymore. You don't need this kind of attention coming towards your area.
"Alright hold it you two." You yank your hand out of Thoma's and stand between them. Giving them both cautious glances you try to clear up the situation.
"I and Gorou were just enjoying the festival since we ran into each other at a dango stall. He dozed off right when Thoma yelled my name. The growl wasn't intentional. And Gorou I'm sure Thoma was just worried due to the growl."
They both seem to want to say something but they shut up at the look you give them.
"You guys aren't angry are you? I mean we should be enjoying the festival for the creator especially since the ritual is about to begin."
"No, I'm not angry. I was just a bit startled by the sudden hostility." Thoma says trying to hold back his frustration. You raise an eyebrow at that seeing clearly what he was trying to hide.
"I agree with Thoma. It was a bit offensive that he believed I would hurt someone outside of battle but I'm guessing that he was just worried about you." The look they give each other once Gorou is finished tells their true feelings.
"Alright since neither of you are mad at the other, why don't you shake on it?" Were you just fucking with them? Yeah, but if they were going to tell stupid lies then you'll make them do stupid things. You still didn't fully understand why they were so mad at each other.
Nonetheless, they both robotically reach out and shake hands. You can easily tell how they are tightening their grip to bruise and intimidate each other. Thoma may have the height but Gorou is a general for a reason. They let go at a draw.
This was going to be fun. Smiling you link arms with them and start walking to the main area of the city.
"With that out of the way, we should head to the ritual. We need to get good spots to watch it after all. I still don't even know what the ritual is."
The atmosphere relaxes for a minute as both men admire the sight of you. Your strength and willpower to keep plowing forward with both of them in tow despite their spat. They give each other a dirty look behind your back before walking in step with you.
"We should go to the left side Y/N, you did say we could hang out once I was done helping Mr. Shimura."
"The right side is better. I did promise to show you all the best spots."
And here they go again. By the time you get to the main area where a crowd was slowly forming, you were ready to sit in the first spot and ignore them both.
Like an angel from heaven Ayaka strolls to your group with her practiced perfect smile.
"Y/N, are you enjoying the festivities? The ritual is about to start and I'll need to bring Thoma with me to help out behind the scenes."
You release Gorou and Thoma as Ayaka gets closer to you. You've never been so happy to see her before. Still aware of the people watching you only hover near her.
"It's been a lot of fun, everything looks beautiful. I'm going to get a good spot for the ritual thanks to Thoma and Gorou. But of course, I understand that you need to take Thoma. I'm excited to see what you and Lord Kamisato have prepared."
"I'm just as excited to see your reaction Y/N." Thoma walks over to Ayaka as cheerful as ever but you can clearly see the way his shoulder sag. You wave goodbye to them both and Gorou has a smug smile. The minute he sees you looking, his smile softens to something kinder.
"Alright Gorou, lead the way." You still didn't fully understand what's making them so hostile but honestly, it didn't really matter. They weren't hostile to you and you were leaving today anyway.
"It's just up these stairs, and-" Gorou's words are drowned out by an overwhelming sense of something watching you. More like someone you realize as the sight of pink fox ears flickers in the corner of your vision. Seems like Yae has decided to watch you or Gorou, maybe even both.
You sit down with Gorou and pay extra attention to manage your expressions. The last thing you want to do is slip up again. A huge crowd formed near the stage, it looked suffocating to be there. Thankfully the spot Gorou brought you to was still close but high enough that you weren't being trampled.
On the stage is a statue of yourself. The statue is holding the Inazuma symbol in its hands as if displaying it. This statue is made of stone instead of wood like the one in your temple. The clothing and hair were made of Obsidian while you were made of Jadeite. The most notable detail was how gold lines seem to follow your veins in the statue.
Was that some sort of reference to the story of the creator bleeding gold? From what you remember reading in the room in the Kamisato estate, the scriptures said "The creator's blood is like flowing gold. Sacred and holy. Never should it have to be shed, and if so, may the offender pay for bleaching their golden blood."
You sure as hell bleed red so it's most likely that it's metaphorical rather than literal. But how many people in Teyvat see it that way? You had a feeling everyone took that chapter literally instead.
Ayaka goes up on stage holding a box while other servants that you recognize from the estate follow her holding more boxes. She gives her box to someone else to hold before going to all the other boxes and taking out the contents.
Gold, jewels, jewelry, fabric, and bottles of something presumably fancy are laid at the feet of your statue. Two servants place incense at either side of you before Ayaka lights them. The smell is refreshing and vaguely reminds you of cinnamon.
Your body seems to relax automatically but you keep it still since Yae may still be looking. Just as you're about to comment on the smell, Gorou speaks up.
"I've always wondered what it smells like." What? Gorou who has a great sense of smell can't smell it? You look around to see nobody else reacting to the smell.
Quietly you ask, "What do you mean by that? I thought we were just too far away to smell it."
"The incense used for rituals is special. It's specifically made with elemental power. Its concentration to make the sticks is so fine-tuned that only the creator and archons can smell the true scent. Everyone else smells nothing or a indescribable smell."
Well bullet dodged, you almost got caught there. By claiming to smell something, you would have drawn way too much attention for something that couldn't prove you well enough. You nod quietly and look back to the ritual.
Ayaka had now opened the box she was carrying showing two elemental decorations. It made sense that it's the highest prized offering since the Kamisato Clan deals with elemental energy the most.
She places a beautiful Sakura made of ice near one incense and a crystalline Camelia near the other. They were both truly beautiful, you would have loved to take them with you.
Ayato strolls to the front from who knows where and kneels at the statue. Never did you think that you would see Ayato kneel and clasp his hands in prayer at a statue of yourself. Yet everyone takes his lead and kneels down. The moment you see Gorou kneel is when you follow along.
Ayato's voice rings out over the dead-silent area.
"We offer these humble gifts to the creator. Our one and only maker that sacrificed themself for their creations. From every pebble to all the blood that exists in Teyvat. They all belong to you. We will continue to worship and offer to you as long as we still have the oxygen to do so. Let your title be our dying last words as you take us from this world into your loving eternity."
Damn, if you forgot that basically all of Teyvat was a cult, you sure as hell remember now. Just yesterday you were joking and play fighting with Ayato and now he was praying to you to basically make sure that he dies thinking of you. At least you knew that your worries about him killing you weren't unfounded.
You hold back the sigh of relief when Ayato says 'Amen' and everyone stands back up. Thoma opens the gate to your statue as the rest of Kamisato Clan leave the small space. People form a line to the statue holding offerings and boxes.
Old, young, men, women, and other species besides human all go up to your statue with gifts. They place them down and mutter a short word of thanks before moving for someone else. You look over at Gorou who's watching everyone with you.
"I didn't know what this ritual was so I have nothing to offer this time. Do you have anything to offer?" Gorou smiles mysteriously at your question.
"Yes, but I already gave them my offering. Really, I and her excellency offered on behalf of Watatsumi Island but I still count it since I was the one who caught him. But you won't see him till the next part of the ritual."
Oh, was sacrificing the next part? It wouldn't be pleasant to see animals be sacrificed in your name but you could deal with that. You wonder what kind of animal Gorou caught.
"Well just let me know which one you caught." He nods and rests his head on your shoulder as the line finishes. You can still feel someone staring at you. It seems Yae still hasn't given up.
With everyone out of the area around your statue, the gate is closed and Thoma walks onto the stage pulling 3 people along. They're in chains and old ragged clothes. Cuts, bruises, and dried blood cover parts of their bodies. You hold your breath at the sight of them lined up.
Ayato walks to the front of the stage and Thoma forces all 3 people onto their knees.
"People of Inazuma, this week will be slightly different from the Yashiro's usual sacrifice. Instead of one, we have three prisoners with the highest amount and the worst crimes committed."
Ayato unsheathes his Amenoma Kageuchi, the sword you had maxed out for him. He points it at the first prisoner.
"This man was a samurai that used his status to kidnap, rape, and kill multiple children. For the lives and innocence of those children he will face capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through his punishment."
Oh my god. Yes that man is horrible and if his punishment is execution then let it go through but in your name? No, no, you don't want that man's life on your consciousness. Ayato points at the second prisoner.
"This woman was caught by the Grand Narukami Shrine. Not only was she colluding with a foreign nation to start a war but she was also found poisoning the water supply in the Shrine. That resulted in many shrine maidens becoming permanently ill and even dying. It also damaged the Sacred Sakura, she will face capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through her punishment."
Was he going to say that for all of them? How many people have been sacrificed in your name? You barely breathe in fear of choking and calling attention to yourself. Right before Ayato points at the third prisoner, Gorou points at them first.
"That man is the one I caught."
Such a simple sentence yet it made you so nauseous. Were you dumb or just in denial for wanting to believe earlier that he was talking about an animal?
"This man was caught on Watatsumi Island. He had been found planting multiple explosives near the crop and farms on their island. This would not only kill a good portion of their population but also ensure that they would starve in the upcoming winter. For the attempted murder of so many lives he will be charged with capital punishment. May the creator carry out their will through his punishment."
The prisoners keep quiet with their heads down. Were they feeling guilty, resigned or apathetic? Doesn't matter, for what they did they deserve capital punishment but not under your name. They were still living beings that should rot rather than be killed for a god that didn't even ask for it.
"After hearing the crimes of these individuals. What punishment will we carry out in the creator's and victims names?" Ayato's voice booms and the public responds in kind.
At first it was a jumble of yells for certain executions. Seeing all these people including children yelling out for punishment in your name left bile in your mouth. You weren't about to say that all life was precious and that killing them in general was wrong but you were selfish.
The main reason you were so against it was due to your own conscious. Because this whole scene is confirming something you never wanted to believe. Something you struggled to accept or deny.
The masses seemed to reach an agreement and Ayato announced to everyone.
"The samurai will be forced to commit seppuku, the shrine maiden will be beheaded and the arsonist will be burned at the stake."
The stage is a blur of movement as the crowd cheered. The roaring applause and yells of excitement made you dizzy. You watch in a daze yet hyperaware of everything.
It starts with the child abuser, Ayato forces the man's hands around what looks like the man's sword. Ayato forces him to stab himself in the stomach. Its dragged from right to left. The blood sticks to the sword as Ayato pulls it out, the sight is disgustingly familiar. The samuri has his hands handcuffed behind him as he is left to bleed out to death in front of everyone. You aren't quite sure but by the way his mouth is moving, he seems to be screaming in pain.
The guillotine must have been set up while you were watching the samurai. Ayaka forces the bound woman to her knees and closes the top trapping her head. The shrine maiden is muttering judging by her mouth movement. Ayaka raises her sword and at that moment, the shrine maiden yells above the noise.
"Oh, beloved creator! Take me into your sweet embrace and show them all the truth of this world! Just as I have done everything for you, please-"
Her words are cut off as her head rolls. Ayaka stands there with a bloody blade and a frosty glare. The woman's head is stuck in a pleading expression and tears drying on her face. Your hands slowly grow paler with every second. The sound of desperate pleading brings your attention to the arsonist.
The man is already tied to the stake with wood at the bottom of it. Thoma's vision lights up but instead of hitting the man with his fire, he simply lights the wood on fire. The fire licks the thrashing man's feet and grows up the stake.
You can't stop staring at the two men slowly dying. In seppuku someone is supposed to cut the head off but no one will do it. And usually with burning executions they add more wood and fire to hurry up the process yet no one is adding anything. These two men are rightfully suffering for their crimes but you can't help but feel isolated as the crowd cheers for the men being publicly tortured.
In your name, in your name. Their deaths are on your hands. Those lives were taken due to you. You already had someone else's life on your hands, how could you handle any more?
A soft touch on your shoulder makes you look toward the source. When did he even move his head off your shoulder? Gorou is looking at you with worry evident on his face.
"Are you okay Y/N?"
More than anything you want to say no. You want to hide away and forget the deaths you just witnessed. More than anything you want to cry and not worry about the consequences. But things like that are too good for you.
You are sure of it now. Your identity must be hidden forever. The minute anyone finds out your true identity is when you'll suffer a worse death than those prisoners. Your brain and body seem to finally catch up with reality. You give a sad smile to Gorou.
"This is something completely new to me. Truthfully I'm just confused about how to feel about all this. But the creator's feelings are echoing clearly. They are thankful and very happy to see how devoted Inazuma and its residents are but... At the same time, they can't help but feel sad too. Innocent people suffered and even though those criminals are getting their due punishment, they still feel love for them. Because all of Teyvat and its beings are their beloved creations."
Gorou nods his head in understanding before asking.
"But what about you? This must be pretty intense for you as it's your first time."
Gorou really was kind, he's still worried about you. It's too risky to ever open up like you did before but you still need to maintain a close relationship with him.
"You're right, I think I need to step away for a little while. The creator's feelings mixed in with mine are creating a mess." Gorou nods in understanding before holding your hand and leading you away. Your skin pricks at the feeling of being watched so intensely.
Your mind is running a mile a minute to categorize everything you've learned. To think of a plan on what you'll do when you get to Liyue. Yet every time you go into the deep crevices of your mind with thoughts like 'Should I just live in the wilderness forever?' It's Gorou's hand that grounds you back to reality.
Reliable as ever you think to yourself as he sets you down on a bench near the Inazuma City entrance. It's funny how you are being taken care of by him twice in your first meeting. It seems even knowing how he gave a horrible man as a public sacrifice isn't enough to dissolve your love for him.
In fact your love for Ayato, Ayaka, and Thoma as people still existed in your heart. For years you had Genshin and it's people as your only source of safety and comfort. Despite your fear and desire to be away from Ei, you still wished that she would have some form of happiness too.
"Do you want to talk to me about it? If not then I can just sit with you until you're feeling better."
"It's fine Gorou, you should just go ahead and enjoy the rest of the ritual. That man you caught almost did irreplaceable damage to Watatsumi after all."
"You may be right but he's already suffering his due punishment. I'd rather help out my comrade than spit on the defeated enemy."
Gorou's words though encouraging will only lead to more trouble. Not only would you start becoming dependent on Gorou if you relayed your troubles in another metaphorical tale. But Yae's eyes are still watching you and it's quiet enough that her ears won't miss a sound.
Hmm, this plan might be risky but risk is necessary to trick Yae. You chew on your bottom lip while looking away from Gorou.
"I'm just a little sick. All the sugar and excitement wasn't the best combination for my stomach. Just let me have a breather and I'll be good to go. Go on ahead without me, I'll be fine."
Gorou is about to retort but a yell of "General Gorou!" cuts him off. A Watatsumi soldier stands closer to the main area waving their hands.
Gorou sighs and stands up with his tail drooping. He looks apologetically at you while you only smile nervously back.
"Don't worry about me Gorou. Just go ahead, I'll catch up later."
He nods and leaves. Once you're sure he's out of sight you slump against bench in relief. A matching sigh of relief leaves your lips as you tilt your head back and close your eyes.
"Well, aren't you a sneaky one?"
You hide your smile by rapidly sitting up straight almost hitting Yae who was behind you. Her teasing chuckle as you move to stand up and spin around to face her, lets you know that it was successful.
"No need to stand up little one. You're quite skittish for someone that managed to pull that cute doggy general away from me."
You duck your head and look away with a nervous chuckle.
"It's just that I was startled by you. I really mean no offense Ms. Yae." You finish speaking and can't stop your teeth from biting your inner cheek.
Yae smiles at your little tell as she places her hand over her mouth mockingly.
"Startled? By me? I believe you aren't being entirely truthful. But it's fine by me if you want to keep up your little lie. It's just that..."
Your eyebrows pinch in worry as she trails off. She stays silent as you begin fiddling with your hands.
"You'll have to be my precious 'friend' seeing as you stole Gorou from me earlier. At least for a little while."
You light up at her words and smile. Relief is clear in your face as you hold your hands together in front of you.
"Isn't that more of a good thing? I mean everyone says that you are very popular. I guess all the talk about kitsune biting was false!"
You immediately slap a hand over your mouth as Yae laughs at your words.
"Do we now? You must have heard such things from one of my editors."
Your cheeks take a light pink hue as she steps closer and peers down at you. Her gaze is piercing and you turn your head away slightly.
"I-I'm so sorry! Please don't eat me!" You speak with a pleading tone and your eyes screwed shut.
A little zap from her electro-fox hits your forehead making you look at her in confusion.
"I'm not going to eat you little one. My word, do I really have that fearsome of a reputation? That does make me wonder why a little lamb like you is wearing a gold kitsune mask if you are so scared of being eaten."
Time to see if you've built up enough credit for your trick to work. Your eyes wander around the area refusing to look her in the eyes. Your lips start to turn a little red from how harshly you're biting it.
"It was just pretty."
"Even though it's broken?"
"...it was cheaper that way." Your eyes are a little glossy from embarrassment. Your lips tremble as you stare sadly at the ground.
There was an awkward silence after you spoke. On the outside Yae isn't affected by your words but you caught the way her ear flickered for a moment. She's feeling a bit guilty.
Yae was arrogant and for good reason too. But it was also this arrogance that helped you get to the point where she won't ask about the mask anymore.
She can't help but feel the need to tease someone easily embarrassed like Gorou. By mimicking that flustered state with a dash of enthusiasm due to your first appearance being so energetic. You made yourself a perfect target for her to underestimate.
This paved the way for her to feel superior to you. That's why such an easily faked tell like biting your lip or really any area of your mouth worked so well. Made sense since most highly skilled people find the beginner tasks the hardest after they become masters. Something about being too used to harder things makes them either look too deep into simple things or overlook it completely.
You only could pull this act and not reveal your oracle due to Yae not feeling any bond. Ayaka didn't feel any bond or familiarity because you never pulled her. You didn't pull for Yae either and it seemed your theory is correct. Since she doesn't sense your divinity, she has no real interest in you besides your mask.
You can only hope that you managed to swindle her enough for her to lose interest in you completely. She wasn't heartless but she also had no problem leaving people to suffer unless it concerns someone she cares about.
The smell of burning flesh reaches the area and your act falters. You cough and wipe away a small tear. You peek at the fire that completely enveloped the arsonist and the black smoke rising. Your face grimaced at the sight of it. Was that samurai still bleeding to death?
Even from far away you can hear the people cheering as the stake falls down. You can imagine the way the burnt corpse crunches as it hits the ground. Was that shrine maiden head and body still there as it grows cold and stiff?
Yae tilts your head to look at her using her wand stick. The ribbons tickle your skin as you look up at her making sure to keep your eyes reminiscent of a doe.
"If you think your little act was enough to fool me then you're wrong." Shit, did she see through you at any point? No, it can't be. The only thing you let slip was your distaste.
"Stepping away from the ritual to avoid watching any more of the bloodshed is quite selfish. It's our job as the creator's subjects to dirty ourselves with blood in order to keep our creator pure." You recognize this from the book you translated to read. It spoke about the people of Inazuma only offering blades never used, therefore 'clean' to the archon. It seems it applies even more to you as the creator.
"Inazuma is filled with bloodshed, I suggest you learn to live with it. The Shogun fought numerous wars for this nation and even more for the creator."
You keep your mouth shut. As much as you would like to retort and speak against it. You really can't afford to bring any more attention to yourself. Your safety is on the line.
You keep a sad and guilty look on your face as you listen to her.
"Are you from Inazuma? It's honestly quite disappointing if you are, a resident not knowing Inazuma's history with the creator is a crying shame."
Shame bubbles up within you for not being able to speak your true thoughts but you use it to your advantage instead.
"I'm sorry... I just don't know how to read. I'm one of the residents forced out of Yashiori Island due to the war and tatarigami. I'm really sorry."
Another silence ensures and you don't even have to look at her to see the pitying look. It seems you were right about her feeling bad for those affected by the war. It was only a guess due to the counseling services she holds for samurai returning from war but it paid off.
"Don't look so pitiful like that, you're making me look like the bad guy. Nevertheless, ignorance is not an excuse to do wrong. I expect to see you stay for the whole ritual next time."
Yae only gives you a glance before leaving. You keep your head down as her footsteps slowly get quieter. You wait an extra second before slumping onto the bench and groaning.
This was exhausting, you couldn't wait to be on the boat to Liyue already. As you sat there trying to ignore the loud cheers from the main area thoughts of what Yae said kept trickling in.
It's the people's job to be dirty with blood for the creator? Bullshit. Even if some people were overzealous and wanted to sacrifice evil people, they shouldn't force other regular believers into it!
Just how many people were peer pressured into joining the cult's violent nature? If this whole creator religion started so long ago then what if those who refused to participate were turned into sacrifices? That would have forced people to join in fear of being killed.
After centuries or even millenniums of this pattern, this obsession and violence became normal and even expected behavior. As much as you enjoyed almost everyone's company, you could not afford to stay even a day longer. They may start expecting you to join in on stuff like this. You are no stranger to death and violence but Teyvat was supposed to be your chance to change. Not for you to find a new reason to inflict harm, especially for a religion about yourself.
Through the smoke and noise of everyone partying, you can smell the incense Ayaka lit earlier. Just a few minutes to relax you tell yourself. Bringing your knees to your chest to sit in a fetal position on the bench, you hide your head. You watch two cats play fight nearby as you think.
You just need a minute to decompress.
The beginning with Gorou wasn't the best but I think I got it to improve as the chapter went on. The real struggle was Yae. Personally I'm not that fond of her and writing her was hard. I hope all you Yae lovers weren't too offended, I really did do my research to keep her in character. This was actually half of a chapter but I really wanted to publish something. 10K words here instead of 15K like the other one is progress in my book. I'm trying to find a happy middle of 'long enough that it doesn't drop off' and 'not long enough that editing makes me cry'. Besides I wanna spread out the trauma I'm giving reader. Gotta save some for next chapter. All the comments and hearts are very appreciated!
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pin-k-ink · 6 months ago
Text
limerence // akutagawa ryuunosuke
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tw ⇢ mentions of violence and injuries, mentions of abuse, sexual tension, highly suggestive content, slightly possessive aku, akutagawa has a wild imagination
wc ⇢ 9.7k
a/n: i just liked the idea of someone being there for aku when he was being mistreated by dazai. it just spiraled out of control
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Akutagawa had always sensed something indescribable drawing him to you - an invisible thread tying your two existences together in a way he couldn't put words to. Ever since joining the Port Mafia under Dazai's brutal tutelage, there had been this inexplicable feeling that you were meant to be a fixed point in his life's orbit.
It wasn't that he felt the incessant urge to hurt you, like he did with so many others he deemed inferior or disposable. No, the rasping voice in his head that incessantly whispered for destruction and chaos went utterly silent whenever you were around. If anything, your presence seemed to dull the storm of his violent impulses to a steady patter.
He admired the way you carried yourself - the fearless determination shining through your eyes, the ruthless efficiency with which you dispatched any who crossed your path. You pulled your own weight without question or complaint, swiftly earning respect and a solid position amongst the mafia ranks in a remarkably short time.
In many ways, you reminded him of himself - two feral strays plucked off the streets by the maddeningly enigmatic Dazai and molded into his own personal weapons. Perhaps that was where this strange kinship stemmed from initially. He saw reflections of his own brokenness, his own will to survive and stake a claim in this unforgiving world, gazing back at him through your steely gaze.
The first time Dazai had introduced you two, Akutagawa immediately noticed the way your eyes seemed to flicker with something like...recognition? A fleeting spark of light danced through those dead irises whenever you glanced his way. In that moment, he knew you had been through unspeakable hells, just as he had. The kinship was immediate, if unacknowledged.
"This is your new...partner, of sorts," Dazai had said with one of his signature inscrutable smiles. "I expect you two to look out for each other from this point on."
You had simply given a curt nod, not speaking a word. Akutagawa remembered being struck by your silence, the way it seemed to have great weight and volume despite the lack of sound.
That was how it remained between you two for the longest time - an unspoken bond of understanding threaded through the quiet moments you existed side-by-side. Like the time Dazai had disciplined Akutagawa a little too severely, leaving him a crumpled, bleeding mess on the warehouse floor.
"Just kill me," Akutagawa had rasped through gritted teeth, despair crashing over him in waves at the thought that he wasn't strong enough, wasn't good enough to be of use. If he couldn't be of use, he had no purpose.
That's when he felt the feather-light caress of fingers grazing over his mottled skin. His head had snapped up, eyes wild, as Rashomon burst forth with a violent screech to attack the perceived threat. But there was no scream, no cry of pain or fear - only the soft patter of blood droplets hitting the concrete as Rashomon's jaws clamped down on your shoulder.
You showed no pain, only that same weighted silence and expectant look that somehow conveyed you trusted Akutagawa to call off his attack. He found himself dismissing Rashomon without a second thought.
From that day on, a new unspoken ritual formed between you two. Whenever Akutagawa was left beaten and broken by Dazai's savage lessons, you would appear like a wraith. Not a word would be exchanged as you gathered his battered body with surprising gentleness and began cleaning and binding his wounds with a steady, practiced hand.
An entire year slipped by in that manner - two damaged, jagged souls orbiting each other in a companionable silence. Until one day, you finally spoke.
"Why do you let him do this to you?" Your voice was little more than a hoarse rasp, as though long unused to forming words.
Akutagawa's eyes had gone wide at the unexpected sound. "He...He's making me stronger," was his automatic reply.
You shook your head, mouth setting into a grim line. "No. He's breaking you."
Those four words hung thick in the air as you resumed cleaning the fresh wound on his cheek with surprising tenderness. Akutagawa wanted to angrily refute your allegation, but something in the depths of your gaze stopped him. He searched your expression, took in the tightness around your eyes and the hardened set of your jaw, and realized you weren't just speaking in hypotheticals.
"What do you mean?" he found himself asking, a slight furrow creasing his brow.
You paused, seeming to carefully weigh your next words. When you spoke again, it was low and measured. "Dazai...he takes pleasure in breaking people. Molding them into what he wants, no matter how much it shatters them in the process."
Your hands stilled, falling away from his cheek as your gaze grew distant, as if you were seeing something far away that only you could perceive. "I've seen it before, in others he claimed to 'mentor'. The light slowly extinguishing from their eyes as he systematically stripped them of anything that gave them strength beyond his control."
A muscle ticked in your jaw and your hands clenched into white-knuckled fists against your thighs. "I won't let that happen to me. To us." Your eyes snapped back to his with an intensity that pierced straight through to Akutagawa's very core. "We can't let him break us, Akutagawa. We have to stay strong, for ourselves."
He could only nod mutely, trying his best to absorb the weight behind your impassioned words. For the first time, he was seeing the full scope of the simmering rage and defiance you clearly harbored towards their mentor. A rage he realized, with some surprise, he might share more kinship with than he previously thought.
The silence stretched onward as you took up the first aid supplies once more, resuming your ministrations with a little more force behind the movements. Akutagawa could feel the heat of your body from where you knelt in front of him, smell the faint tang of your skin and the metallic hint of his own drying blood. It should have felt suffocating, but instead there was an odd sense of comfort in your presence surrounding him.
Finally, you seemed to reach some internal decision and spoke again without looking up. "From now on, you come to me if he...if that happens again." It wasn't a question, but a quiet, steely command. "Don't let him take any more of you than he already has."
Akutagawa gave another muted nod, unable to give voice to the jumbled emotions currently ricocheting through him. He knew in that moment that something had irrevocably shifted between you two - a new gravitational force lashing you both securely in each other's orbit, an unbreakable chain reforged in defiance of the man who brought you together only to try and rip you apart.
As you dressed the last of his wounds and made to pull away, he caught your wrist in a grip just shy of bruisingly tight without conscious thought. You froze, eyes flicking up to search his face with that piercing, unblinking stare. Akutagawa opened his mouth, but no words would come. He simply held your gaze, trying to convey the gratitude, the bone-deep relief at knowing he didn't have to be alone in this hell anymore.
You seemed to understand regardless. You simply gave a solemn nod and covered his hand with your free one, giving it a tight squeeze. Akutagawa felt something unknot in his chest at the contact. It was as if you had extended him the thinnest fragile lifeline, a tendril of connection keeping him bound to the side of light and humanity he so feared losing sight of entirely.
From that day forward, your unspoken ritual took on a new dimension of fierce protectiveness and silent strength being drawn from each other's resolve. Akutagawa continued weathering Dazai's cruel tempests, but now he had your steadfast presence to keep him moored, to keep him from shattering apart entirely.
And in turn, he vowed to be that same anchor for you...
The weeks passed in a steady cycle of brutality and quiet reprieves. Dazai's cruel lessons grew harsher, his bemused smiles taking on a sharper, more mocking edge as he pushed Akutagawa to his limits over and over again. But each time, without fail, you would appear like an avenging spirit - silent fury simmering in your eyes as you gathered Akutagawa's broken body and began the ritual of putting him back together.
Your touches during those stolen moments started to linger a beat longer than perhaps was necessary. Fingertips would ghost over the newly formed scars and mottled bruises with a tenderness that made something warm unfurl in the pit of Akutagawa's stomach. He found himself craving those light caresses, irritated when you pulled away too soon.
You seemed to sense the shift as well. He would catch you staring sometimes, head tilted ever so slightly as you observed him through narrowed eyes. As if you were studying him, cataloging every wince and sharp indrawn breath for deeper analysis. The weight of your regard made the hair on the back of his neck prickle, though not in an unpleasant way.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the walls between you began eroding away. What started as terse one-word answers when you asked him gruffly how he was faring blossomed into full, albeit stilted sentences. Your brows would knit together whenever Akutagawa recounted in clipped tones the new creatively sadistic punishments Dazai had devised, your jaw tensing until he could see the muscles flexing beneath the skin.
"He can't keep doing this," you bit out one night, hands stilling where they gently probed the fresh fracture in Akutagawa's arm. "We're not his dolls to torture for his amusement."
Akutagawa could only grunt an affirmative, reflexively biting back a pained hiss as you cautiously finished binding the limb. He didn't dare voice his most deeply buried fear - that Dazai wouldn't stop until he had thoroughly and irreparably broken him to align perfectly with his own twisted vision.
As if sensing his dark thoughts, you shifted until you were kneeling directly in front of him, invading his personal space in a way that should have felt suffocating but didn't. You reached out with one hand to firmly grasp his chin, forcing him to meet the searing intensity of your gaze head-on.
"Don't let him take you from yourself, Akutagawa," you said, low and serious. "No matter what happens, you have to hold on to who you are at your core. I'll be here to remind you, if you start losing your way."
Akutagawa's breath hitched at the unexpected vow, at the protectiveness burning in your eyes mere inches from his own. He could feel the warmth of your closeness soaking into his chilled skin, smell the faint hints of soap and steel that seemed to cling to you always. It was utterly intoxicating in a way he didn't want to examine too closely.
"I won't let you lose yourself either," he heard himself promising in return, voice coming out lower and rougher than intended.
Something flickered through your gaze at his words, there and gone too quickly for him to identify. But you held his stare for a beat longer before giving a solemn nod and releasing his chin. Already, Akutagawa felt the loss of your proximity like a yawning chasm opening up in his core.
From that day forward, you both moved as cohesive units - flowing around each other in the training rooms with the kind of seamless synchronicity generally reserved for lovers. You would spar with him for hours, pushing him to operate at his peak physical and mental state, showing no quarter even when his body screamed for respite. Because you understood that the stronger he became, the less Dazai could use his punishments as justification for his depravity.
In turn, Akutagawa could feel himself focusing with terrifying intensity whenever you sparred with Dazai. He would watch every shift of muscle, every bead of sweat that formed at your brow, looking for the slightest tell that you were nearing your limits. If Dazai ever went too far, took his games to the point of potentially crippling you, Akutagawa knew he wouldn't hesitate to unleash his fury in retaliation.
You were his tether, his lodestar in this increasingly dark and disorienting world Dazai was crafting around you both. He didn't think he could withstand having that grounding presence ripped away.
It was that realization, after a particularly vicious sparring session that left you both bruised and panting for air, that Akutagawa felt the first delicate tendril of something deeper unfurling in his chest. As you reached up to wipe away the thin trail of blood from the corner of your split lip, he found himself paralyzed - utterly transfixed watching the way your tongue instinctively darted out to wet your chapped lips.
A sudden, visceral need slammed into him then - the urge to lean in and chase that flash of pink with his own mouth, to taste the sharp tang of copper and the softness of your lips all at once. The thought had his throat going dry and heat lancing through him so suddenly it was disorienting.
You must have noticed something shift in his expression, because your brow furrowed quizzically as you dropped your hand. "Akutagawa? You okay?"
He could only give a tight nod, reeling from the intensity of whatever this new feeling was taking root in his battered psyche. By everything he had been taught, he should reject it immediately - these unbidden wants and needs were simply weaknesses to be exploited, flaws in his design that required purging.
And yet... he couldn't seem to make himself extinguish the tiny ember burning in his soul. Not when it made him feel more human, more alive, than anything had in longer than he could remember.
So instead of snuffing it out, he chose to protectively cup the flame with his hands and let it slowly blaze brighter and hotter until he could no longer ignore the truth shining forth.
He was falling for you - slowly, insidiously, like a man being pulled into a riptide's powerful underwing before he even realized the waters around him had shifted. But now there would be no stemming the tide.
Akutagawa felt himself being swept away by this new force, and he was powerless to stop it. Worse...he didn't want to.
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several years later
The Port Mafia headquarters was quieter these days without Dazai's presence casting that ever-looming shadow. He had defected years ago in a dramatic storm of chaos and bloodshed, abandoning his prized students to fend for themselves in the aftermath.
For Akutagawa, it was a perverse sort of liberation.
The cruel mentor who had taken such sadistic delight in systematically tearing him down was gone - leaving him unshackled from that dark paradigm. No longer did he have to temper his every action, endure harsh punishments for perceived failures or signs of wavering loyalty. He was finally free to embrace his true self, uninhibited.
And perhaps most importantly, he no longer had to share you.
From the moment Dazai slipped through their grasp that fateful night, it was as if a remaining tether binding you to the Port Mafia had been abruptly severed. You seemed to come alive in a way Akutagawa had never witnessed before - like a wild animal who had finally been released from its cage.
The quiet intensity that he had found so intriguing all those years before bloomed into an aura of unbridled confidence and power. You moved with the self-assuredness of a natural apex predator, never bothering to cover the blatant disdain that flashed in your eyes when having to take orders. Everyone could see it - you never intended to be bound or controlled again.
It set Akutagawa's blood thrumming hot through his veins just watching the transformation. This was the woman he had fallen for slowly allowing her truest nature to unfurl. He drank in every nuance, every subtle shift, like a man who had been trapped in a desert finally allowed to experience the intoxicating force of a ravenous storm.
There was a feral sort of grace to the way you moved now, each sinewy muscle coiled like a panther's before it strikes. He noticed the details with an almost obsessive focus - like how your hair seemed permanently tousled from constantly raking your hands through it, or the tiny bead of sweat that would form on your collarbone whenever you exerted yourself. Little things that somehow entranced him in a bone-deep way.
Not that he would ever let on just how utterly arrayed he found himself in your presence these days. The lingering awkwardness and uncertainty over how to define the bond between you persisted - an unspoken hesitance to outright acknowledge or give voice to the molten tensions thrumming through every weighted glance and casual touch.
Still, the gravitational pull between you had only grown more irresistible the older you both became. Ever since that first spark of undeniable want had awoken in Akutagawa's soul all those years ago, he found himself unable to fully suppress the yearning anymore. It would blaze hotly to life at the most inopportune moments, sparked by the smallest and most innocuous things you did.
Like the way you would absently chew on your pen cap whenever you were deep in thought, staining those plump lips a deep crimson from the pressure. Or how you would shrug out of your signature leather jacket in a series of languid movements after a long day, briefly exposing the flexing muscles of your arms and back.
Mundane moments that somehow became searing, impossible for Akutagawa to tear his eyes away from even if the world had depended on it. You didn't seem to notice or care that his gaze had taken on a scorching new intensity, holding his stare and quirking an amused brow as if challenging him to keep watching.
Which of course, he did, feeling arousal and frustration swirling through his gut in an intoxicating, dizzying mix. Self-restraint was a constant battle when you were around, every fiber of his being straining to touch, to taste, to finally allowed himself to succumb to the relentless maelstrom of need you awoke in him.
The simmering tension had grown nearly unbearable in recent months, finally culminating in an impasse one humid summer night...
The summer night was thick and sultry, the air heavy with humidity that seemed to cling to exposed skin like a damp veil. Akutagawa could feel perspiration beading along his hairline as he made his way through the Port Mafia's dimly lit corridors towards your quarters.
There had been a mission earlier that evening - a relatively straightforward information retrieval, but one that had still required your collective skills. As always, you operated with the same brutal finesse that he had come to admire and crave witnessing with an almost physical ache.
Now, with the adrenaline had ebbing from his veins, Akutagawa found his thoughts turning inevitably back towards you. His steps carried him in your direction without conscious thought, body seeming to operate on autopilot as if drawn in by its own powerful gravity well.
He told himself it was simply to go over the mission debrief one final time before submitting the report. But a deeper part of him knew that was merely the flimsy excuse his fevered mind clung to for justification. The truth was, he merely ached to be in your presence again, consequences be damned.
When he reached your door, he raised his hand to knock out of ingrained habit and propriety. But he hesitated at the last moment, fingers hovering just millimeters from the weathered wood. From the other side, he could hear the faint sounds of movement - no doubt you were already back, unwinding with whatever nightly routine you indulged in.
The thought of catching you in those unguarded private moments had shameful heat licking up the back of Akutagawa's neck. He shouldn't be here, not without announcement or purpose. This went beyond the lingering tension constantly sparking between you two. This was treading into territory that, if finally acknowledged, could irrevocably alter the delicate threads holding your bond together.
Just as he started to draw his hand back, there was a soft thump from inside followed by a muffled curse slipping through the door's thin barrier like silk. Akutagawa's breath caught in his throat as he instantly recognized your voice - low and gravelly in a way that sparked firebrands of pure want lancing straight through to his core.
There was the soft whisper of fabric shifting, falling away - no doubt you were starting to undress for the evening. Akutagawa knew he should leave, right that second before he somehow forged across a line that could never be uncrossed.
But his feet seemed leaden, rooted to the spot as those mundane sounds of your nightly routine echoed to him louder than thunderclaps. His imagination eagerly painted the visuals for him - the slow, sensuous shedding of clothing and gear until you were finally bared before his mind's eye. The urge to see that imagining made reality twisted his insides with searing intensity.
Another soft thump came from inside - the weighty clunk of boots being kicked off perhaps? Then the creak of what had to be the bed frame shifting under your weight as you settled onto it.
Akutagawa was rapidly losing what little remained of his quickly fraying restraint and composure. Heat blazed through his veins at just the mere thought of you laid out in repose mere feet away, potentially as exposed and vulnerable as he had ever seen you. A merciless tide of need crashed through him, leaving a raging tempest of lust burning in its wake.
He had to get out of here before he did something rash, something idiotic and reckless that could shatter the fragile rapture between you two. Steeling himself, he wrenched his gaze from the door and turned on his heel to flee.
That's when the distinct sound of your breathy moan ghosted through the thin barrier, freezing Akutagawa in his tracks as if he'd been struck by lightning.
It was a barely-there whisper of sound, carried on the heavy air. But there was no mistaking the raw vein of pleasure and need that single exhalation conveyed. Akutagawa's pulse kicked up several notches as his mind instantly rebelled against him, conjuring up images he suddenly couldn't seem to banish no matter how hard he tried.
You, sprawled out naked and wanton on your bed mere feet away. One of your hands stroking teasingly over the soft curves and planes of newly exposed flesh as the other drifted lower to caress at the juncture between your thighs...
A strangled groan very nearly tore itself free from Akutagawa's throat as his arousal spiked so violently it nearly whited out his vision. He could feel his cock rapidly swelling, growing painfully hard beneath the constraint of his clothing.
Another breathy keen reached his ears, followed by the unmistakable rhythmic creak of bedsprings shifting under a rocking motion. Akutagawa's mouth went dry as cotton as he pieced together what had to be happening just on the other side of that door.
You were touching yourself. Right there, so very close by, putting on an unwitting performance just for him as your gasps and muffled mewls of pleasure carried through to tease his senses into a fever pitch.
His feet seemed to move of their own volition, carrying him those last few steps until he was pressed up against the door - drawn in like a moth to a flame despite his mind screaming at him to turn back. He leaned his weight into the solid wood, hands splaying out as if to brace himself against the torrent of need crashing through his body.
From here, he could hear every punched-out breath, every tiny whimper as you pleasured yourself just on the other side. He squeezed his eyes shut, jaw clenching until he tasted blood as he tried in vain to block out the mental images...
You, back arched in ecstasy off the bed as your hand worked between your legs with increasing urgency. Soft panted cries spilling shamelessly from your lips as you chased that blissful peak, completely oblivious to your unintended audience straining to maintain his unraveling composure.
Coherent thought was rapidly becoming an impossibility as Akutagawa was swiftly overwhelmed by the full force of his need for you. His hips jerked helplessly, rutting against the solid plane of the door as another strangled whine filled the air. He couldn't tell if it came from you or was torn from his own throat.
Everything felt scorching hot, heavy with the unmistakable musk of arousal. He was drowning in it, going under the roiling tsunami of pure lust with no chance of salvation. Only one thought seemed to cut through the fevered haze - the all-consuming urge to claim you as his own finally made manifest.
He found himself shakily gripping the door handle, every muscle in his body tensed and thrumming with electric anticipation. One twist of his wrist was all it would take to throw the door open and end this aching torment in a single blazing collision of want and need finally being indulged.
His hand trembled there, hovering over that last razor's edge keeping you both separated. Just one push, one burning leap across that yawning chasm, and everything between you would be shattered and remade into something primal and new...
Akutagawa's hand remained frozen on the door handle, suspended in that breathless moment of indecision. Every nerve ending in his body seemed to be firing on overdrive, screaming at him to throw caution aside and finally satisfy this relentless, smoldering want that had been steadily consuming him.
Just one push was all it would take to irrevocably shatter the fragile tension thrumming between you - to finally act on the undeniable, molten undercurrent of desire that had been simmering for far too long. He could already vividly envision the scene that would instantly unfurl:
The door crashing open, disrupting your intimate moment. Your eyes going wide with shock and vulnerability before quickly narrowing with a mixture of challenge and dark promise as you registered his presence. No words would be exchanged, only a heated collision of bared souls laid out for stark honesty at last.
Akutagawa's restraint had started to fray into gauzy threads barely tethering his control in place. He could feel the muscles in his arm tensing, straining against the decision to finally make that fateful move and breach all remaining barriers. Just one indrawn breath, one purposeful twist of his wrist, and there would be no going back...
Then, a harsh sound like tearing fabric rent through the charged air - the distinct noise of something being knocked over in the room beyond. It was abruptly followed by a guttural groan that most certainly did not sound born of pleasure this time.
Akutagawa felt the fever-pitch tension within him dissipating like a doused flame as reality reasserted itself. You weren't...you had been engaged in something entirely different based on those sounds, something likely related to treating an injury or other discomfort judging by the tone.
Shame and embarrassment came crashing down on him in equal measure, his arousal quickly wilting under the sobering realization of just how indecently his mind had run away with him over mere assumptions. He ripped his hand away from the door handle as if it had become searing hot, stumbling back a few paces with harsh, shuddering breaths.
What in the hell had he been about to do? Violate your privacy, your trust, all because he couldn't master his own base impulses and urges? The thought made him feel vaguely nauseous, disgusted with himself for allowing his wants to supersede all rationality and decorum.
Pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes, Akutagawa turned and hurried away from your door - desperate to put as much distance between him and the source of this unsettling incident as possible. He needed space to regain his composure, to lock away the raging tempest of desire that seemed determined to pull him under every time you came within a certain radius.
As he fled into the night, one horrible truth continued gnawing at his consciousness like an ineradicable parasite:
This deepening obsession, this spiral into depravity...it had to be brought to heel immediately before he did something even worse than merely entertain indecent thoughts and assumptions. If he couldn't regain control over his weakness soon, he risked utterly shattering the precious bond you two had been sustaining against all odds.
And that outcome was quite simply...unacceptable.
No matter how intense this fire raged within him, he could not - would not - lose sight of what truly mattered. Even if it ultimately consumed him from the inside out, he vowed he would find the strength to keep you from getting burned as well.
He had to... for both of your sakes.
The weeks following that charged encounter outside your door were a spiraling descent into barely-restrained torment for Akutagawa. No matter how vigorously he attempted to regain control over his wayward thoughts and urges, they always managed to blaze wilfully back to life the second you entered his vicinity.
Your mere presence seemed to act like a match singeing the tinder of his deepest desires these days. The slightest motion or murmur from you was enough to rekindle the raging want simmering beneath Akutagawa's rigorously enforced surface composure. He found his eyes hungrily tracing the curves of your body whenever you moved, his gaze lingering perhaps a fraction too long whenever you bent or stretched.
It was becoming progressively harder to play off his distraction or attribute the heightened heat in his stare to anything other than naked longing. You began shooting him quizzical looks whenever you'd catch him openly drinking in the sight of you. A slight furrow would crease your brow, lips parting ever-so-slightly as if on the precipice of giving voice to a probing question.
But Akutagawa would simply look away, jaw clenched until he was sure he had mastered himself enough to meet your searching gaze without betraying the inferno of hunger consuming him from the inside out. He took to avoiding extended periods of being alone with you, worried that even his formidable restraint might inevitably shatter if left too long subjected to the temptation of your presence.
This maddening dance could not be sustained indefinitely though, and you both knew it. The tension showed no signs of dissipating, only furthering ratcheting tighter and tighter like a steadily tightening vice grip. Until finally, something gave way with an Earth-shattering jolt.
It happened during a routine sparring session, one of the relatively rare instances where Akutagawa could no longer excuse avoiding you with other matters. You moved together in that deadly, hypnotic tango of give-and-take, strike-and-counter, that had become as natural as breathing long ago.
But this time, every collision of bodies, every heated exchange seemed to be supercharged by the thick undercurrents roiling just beneath. Akutagawa bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste copper in an effort to maintain focus, but his gaze kept flickering to the sheen of sweat glistening along the exposed column of your throat.
He wanted nothing more than to chase the path of those dewy beads trailing downward with his tongue, to drink in the taste of your overheated skin and subtle musk of exertion. The muscle memory of your bodies moving in tandem took on an insidious new tenor as baser wants began bleeding into every brush of contact.
Then it happened -- some minute misstep or fleeting lapse of concentration leaving just enough of an opening. Akutagawa felt his world pivot and suddenly he found himself pinned underneath you, torsos pressed flush and legs tangled as you straddled his hips. The position seemed to rob all remaining oxygen from the room as your heated proximity overwhelmed his senses.
You were so close, he could trace the patterns of your pulse hammering away just beneath the thin sheen of sweat along your neck. Could feel the warmth of your rapid breaths ghosting across his face as you both froze in the sudden shocked stillness. Your eyes had gone wide, lips parted around a ragged inhalation as your gazes crashed together with unavoidable intensity.
For a suspended heartbeat, the world seemed to halt its spinning as that same molten question hung unvoiced between you: What now?
The unstoppable force had finally met the immovable object in this loaded tangle of limbs and Want. Every nerve in Akutagawa's body was straining, crying out to finally seize this precipice and resolve the unbearable tension thrumming like a livewire between you once and for all.
All it would take was simply leaning up those last few instants to seal his mouth over yours in a searing confession. To finally put voice to the screaming desperation that had been slowly tearing him apart from the inside for far too long. This was the breaking point, he could feel it reverberating through his very marrow....
But just as Akutagawa felt his resolve starting to splinter and disintegrate, you seemed to reach some internal decision. Your expression transmuted in an instant - eyes hardening into that achingly familiar look of determination and focus he knew so well as you forcibly mastered control over yourself.
In a single, sinuous movement you had disentangled and rolled off of him, leaving Akutagawa reeling and bereft in the empty space where your body's welcomed weight had been mere moments before. You stood and brushed off your clothes, not quite able to meet his eyes as you muttered something about calling an end to sparring for today.
Then you turned on your heel and left without another word, every line of your body radiating a tension so tightly strung it seemed one errant motion might cause the whole thing to unravel entirely.
Akutagawa could only remain sprawled there for several dazed moments, staring sightlessly at the point where you'd disappeared as the flames of his craving slowly banked back into smoldering embers. Another miss timed breath away from detonation, narrowly skirted at the last possible instant.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep weathering these bone-rattling reprieves, these fragmenting shards of control they both appeared to be clinging to by a single diminishing thread. The hungers clearly would not be starved or denied forever. At this accelerating pace, the dam seemed fated to burst sooner rather than later.
When it finally did...Akutagawa could scarcely begin to fathom just how cataclysmic the torrent would prove to be.
In the days and weeks following that fateful sparring session, the air seemed to thicken with a heavy, charged tension unlike anything Akutagawa had experienced before. No matter where he went or what tasks occupied his time, he could feel the weight of it surrounding him - an omnipresent force drawing his thoughts inexorably back towards you.
You, for your part, seemed to be maintaining a studied distance and aloofness that did little to soothe Akutagawa's furiously burning need. If anything, your avoidance and sudden emotional remove only stoked the smoldering embers into an inferno of sorts. He found himself actively seeking you out, hungry for even the smallest interaction or exchange like a man being teased with mere droplets of relief after wandering the desert.
Lingering looks, brushes of contact that lasted perhaps a second too long, the barest hint of your unique scent carrying on the air - any tiny crumb of your presence was instantly snatched up and hungrily devoured. Akutagawa realized with some dim sort of dawning horror that he was rapidly losing whatever remained of his tattered restraint and control where you were concerned.
This singular, all-consuming obsession was quickly metastasizing into the sole driving force propelling him through each day. Trivial matters like eating, sleeping, carrying out orders - all of it became stunningly inconsequential when compared to simply laying eyes on you or catching the barest hint of your presence nearby. An ache, both physical and psychological, seemed to take root - throbbing incessantly until it grew into the only constant in Akutagawa's world.
He knew, logically, that this degree of unhealthy fixation could not be allowed to persist. It represented an unforgivable weakness, a crack in his steadily reinforced emotional armor that could easily be exploited by anyone wise enough to notice. The fact that you appeared to be the sole vector causing this crumbling deterioration only seemed to make the vice squeezing his heart clench tighter.
Because despite how erratic and unbalancing this maelstrom of want raging through him had become, some deeply buried part of Akutagawa was terrified of what it might mean to actually sate this howling need - or worse, to have it rejected entirely. To finally act on the wildfire convulsing through his veins only to be met with revulsion or disgust from the one person whose regard he found himself violently craving above all others.
So he attempted to regain control through stubborn avoidance and sheer force of will, doubling down on the emotional barriers he'd erected over years of conditioning his mind and body to remain indifferent to such human vulnerabilities. If he could not extinguish this undignified hunger, he would take rein in with an iron fist until it withered away into irrelevance once more.
Except...every attempt at willful suppression only led to eventual eruptions of need that left him shaken and weakened in their wake. Like an ailing dam failing to contain the relentless torrent surging against its crumbling barriers.
It all finally came to a head one sultry summer evening, when Akutagawa's usual practiced avoidance faltered at the worst possible moment. He had ducked into the Port Mafia's training rooms, desperate to lose himself in the rote physicality of conditioning exercises. Anything to force his mind into blissful emptiness and respite from YOUR inescapable presence ricocheting through his psyche.
Except when he rounded the corner into the large open area, you were already there - standing in a loose ready stance before one of the heavy punching bags, your back turned towards the entrance. Akutagawa's steps faltered instantly as his gaze hungrily drank in the flex and glide of sinewy muscles visible beneath your sweat-sheened tank top.
He watched, utterly transfixed, as you twisted your hips and launched into a devastating combination - your entire body a lithe, coiled force temporarily given form before exploding into controlled violence. The punching bag rattled dangerously in its chain with each bone-jarring impact, but you never broke rhythm.
A thin sheen of sweat rapidly emerged along your skin, your breath coming in sharp exhalations that Akutagawa could hear even from his position frozen in the entryway. Heat blazed to life low in his belly as he shamelessly allowed his hungry stare to roam over every inch of you - taking in the way your wild hair stuck to the back of your neck, the graceful arch of your spine as you twisted and struck in an endless loop of sinuous, predatory movements.
Akutagawa felt his mouth go dry as a fresh bead of sweat trailed down the side of your neck, disappearing tantalizingly beneath the collar of your top. He felt an overwhelming urge to stride across the room, crowd up behind you and chase that errant droplet's path with his tongue. To finally indulge in tasting the saltiness of your overheated skin and feel your rapid pulse fluttering against his lips.
His hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides as he fought against the compulsion to close the distance between you. From this angle, he could make out the flexing ropes of muscle in your arms and shoulders with each punishing strike thrown - palpable strength harnessed in a form that sang to something primal low in his core.
Rational thought was rapidly becoming an impossibility as Akutagawa surrendered to the singular focus of simply...watching you. Drinking in every minute detail and storing it away to savor like a lifeline anchoring his sanity against the raging tempest. The way your chest heaved with each rasping inhalation, the tiny furrow of concentration between your brows, the sheer coiled power lying in wait beneath your sweat-slicked skin just begging to be unleashed.
He wasn't sure how long he stood there, rooted to that spot and utterly entranced. But suddenly you were twisting around, shooting him a look over your shoulder that had all the air forcibly expelling from Akutagawa's lungs in a harsh exhale. Your eyes had gone molten and heavy-lidded, lips parted enticingly as you wordlessly held his sidelong stare.
It was a challenge as much as it was an unspoken question - that same weighted tension crackling through the space between you like profane static. Akutagawa forgot how to breathe, mesmerized under the heat of your regard and the sudden realization that you were fully aware of the effect you were having on him.
And worse...you didn't seem to mind it in the slightest.
In that suspended moment, every nerve ending in Akutagawa's body felt electrified and over-sensitized - like the smallest shift in the world around him might make the taut line he'd been walking towards oblivion suddenly fray and snap entirely. He couldn't tear his eyes away from yours, utterly paralyzed yet still straining towards you with every fiber of his being.
It was too much and not nearly enough all at once. The Pandora's box of want laid out in searing clarity between you, mere inches from finally being torn open once and for all. He could see the rapid flutter of your pulse beating just beneath the hollow of your throat, smell the musky ozone of your exertion surrounding him like a physical force.
Then, just as Akutagawa felt his restraint beginning to slip entirely, you broke the loaded tableau with a sharp indrawn breath. Your gaze drifted away from his as you reached up to swipe away the sheen of sweat from your brow. When you looked back, your expression had shifted back towards its usual cool inscrutability.
"I need to clean up," you murmured, turning away to gather your things without a backwards glance. "Don't wear yourself out too much."
The tension shattered like a broken spell as you brushed past Akutagawa without another word, leaving him to experience the metaphorical whiplash of having the coiled vice around his heart both tighten and loosen in the same staggering instant. He could only stand there, chest heaving as if he'd just run for miles, trying to process what had just occurred.
This...this could not continue in such a maddening vortex. Not if he wanted to maintain even a semblance of his battered sanity and self-restraint. One way or another, something was going to have to finally give way before the precarious threads holding this fragile rapture between you both frayed beyond repair.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could withstand feeling like a man being tortured within an inch of his life, only to be callously yanked back from the sweet release of oblivion at the last possible instant. The hungers already threatened to reduce him into something primal and uncontrolled - a danger to you as much as himself.
As your lingering scent slowly dissipated around him, Akutagawa came to a decision. This cyclical game could not be permitted to persist unchecked any longer. He would take matters into his own hands, one way or another, and seek a resolution...
...before one of them wound up getting irreparably burned by the inferno raging ever hotter between you.
The following days found Akutagawa increasingly consumed by his singleminded determination to force a confrontation - to finally shatter the fragile stalemate you had both been treading and either purge these relentless hungers entirely or have them violently sated once and for all.
He pushed himself to utter distraction during training sessions and missions, operating at a ferocious new peak of intensity. As if by purging every ounce of his formidable darkness onto his surroundings, he could temporarily slake the insatiable thirst driving him ever nearer to the edge of control when it came to you.
But it was a temporary balm at best. Because the second you materialized anywhere in his vicinity, it was like all the air was sucked from the room in a searing vacuum. Akutagawa's entire universe seemed to grind down to that singular point of gravity he couldn't tear himself away from no matter how he willed it.
The scorching path of your movements, every subtle shift of muscle and flutter of pulse - he catalogued it all with the razor focus of a starving man who has caught the barest whiff of sustenance. His body practically hummed with unrealized tension, thrumming like a livewire about to arc violently in any direction it was provoked.
You had to feel the molten weight of his stare flickering over you at all times now, yet you carried on with maddening nonchalance. As if you were blissfully unaware of the roiling tsunami of need crashing against Akutagawa's weakening restraints every time you were near.
The facade of indifference you projected cut him deeper than any blade. He saw it for what it truly was - a final test, a gauntlet thrown down challenging him to be the one to shatter propriety and give voice to the pleas hammering for freedom inside his ribcage.
The desperation burned hotter and brighter until Akutagawa could scarcely see anything else beyond the bonfire of his obsession. It took every ounce of white-knuckled composure not to simply slam you up against the nearest surface and put his mouth on yours in a searing brand of possession.
This dance was going to reach its feverish climax soon whether either of you willed it or not. The wanting, the ravenous ache roaring through his veins, had grown into an insatiable force of nature unto itself. And Akutagawa could feel his weakening grip on the reins as it slowly started to drag him under those turbulent waters entirely.
Which is why he finally took the drastic step of luring you into his space under the barest veneer of decorum, scarcely clinging to one last strand of protocol. He requested your presence under the guise of needing to discuss an upcoming assignment, using the thinnest thread of plausible deniability as his cover.
When you arrived with that inscrutable look etched across your features, he could feel the thunderous pounding of his pulse spike in anticipation. This would be it - the final line drawn, demanding you both confront what had been simmering between you for far too long.
Akutagawa wasted no time in pleasantries once you settled in across from him. He simply fixed you with a look of searing intensity, worrying his bottom lip as if wrestling with where to even begin addressing the massive rift that had cracked wide open in the space between them.
"We cannot continue on like this," he finally grated out, the muscle in his jaw ticking visibly with tension. "This...situation, between us. It's becoming untenable at best. Dangerous at worst."
You regarded him coolly from beneath hooded lids, betraying not a flicker of reaction beyond a slight tightening around your eyes. "Is that so?" came your measured reply.
Akutagawa nearly growled out loud at your apparent indifference despite the maelstrom raging within him. "You cannot tell me you haven't felt the escalating tension as well. That you haven't noticed..." He trailed off, pulse spiking as his throat suddenly went dry with the enormity of what he was about to give breath to.
You remained utterly inscrutable and maddeningly silent in the wake of his unfinished confession. The weight of that weighted pause seemed to swell around Akutagawa until he felt utterly unmoored, drifting without an anchor as everything finally came hurtling towards him.
"I'm drowning in wanting you," he rasped out in a harsh undertone, the words escaping like shrapnel tearing through the steel bands of propriety. "I can hardly look at you without feeling consumed by this scorching need clawing at me constantly."
There, he'd said it - given horrifying life to the admission that had been threatening to immolate him from the inside out. Now nothing could halt the flood of pent-up feeling once the gates had finally been opened.
"I'm haunted by thoughts of you no matter where I go or what I do. It's a relentless cycle of craving that has pushed me to the very brink of control. And I can no longer escape the suspicion that you've felt the same...yet you continually seem to dangle the prospect of reprieve before me, only to snatch it away at the last instant."
His hands were fisted tightly on the desktop, body taut as an overdrawn bowstring as he struggled to maintain whatever tattered shreds of composure remained. "So tell me, once and for all - am I deluding myself here? Or have you been stringing me along in this torment in silence? I need to know...before I well and truly snap beyond the point of no return."
The silence that fell between you then was utterly deafening, ringing through the space like Akutagawa had uttered something truly obscene rather than admitted to one of the most viscerally human conditions. He watched you, chest heaving, as you seemed to study him through narrowed eyes.
Then, almost infinitesimally slow and deliberate, the corners of your lips curved upwards into the barest semblance of a smirk.
The smirk playing across your lips sent a cascading shiver down Akutagawa's spine, though from trepidation or dark anticipation he couldn't be sure. You leaned back in your chair, regarding him with a heady look that made his pulse spike traitorously.
"Well, well..." you murmured, voice taking on a low, sultry timbre that immediately flooded Akutagawa's veins with molten heat. "Isn't this an...unexpected development."
You let the weighted pause linger for a beat, eyes roving over him in an almost palpable caress that had his throat turning to sandpaper. "Though I can't say I'm entirely surprised you've finally reached the breaking point, Akutagawa. A man can only deprive himself of what he craves for so long before the hunger becomes...insatiable."
The last word was practically purred, laden with undisguised promise that made his arousal surge almost painfully. You seemed to revel in his poorly contained reaction, gaze darkening with an intensity he'd never seen from you before as the true depth of your feelings was laid bare.
"Did you think I was oblivious to the smoldering looks? The physical restraint simmering just beneath that implacable exterior every time we were in proximity?" You tsked softly, shaking your head in a subtly chiding manner. "I'm not so blind, nor as unaffected as I may have led you to believe."
Your gaze grew hooded, a spark of something wild and feral glinting through as you continued in a low purr. "There were times where I could practically feel the weight of your stare caressing over me like a physical touch. Do you have any idea how intoxicating that is? To be so ravenously desired by a man of your intensity, yet have that razor's edge of control preventing anything from being sated..."
Akutagawa swallowed hard, feeling like the air had been forcibly expelled from his lungs as the first slivers of satisfaction at having his torment finally acknowledged made themselves known. You weren't untouched by the torrential undercurrents, you had simply been the immovable object against which his overwhelming tide crashed repeatedly in vain.
Until now, it seemed. Now that he had finally shattered the flimsy dam of propriety through sheer desperation, allowing everything to spill forth in a cataclysmic rush of truth. That feral glint in your gaze only seemed to intensify as you clearly picked up on his sharp inhalation and visible reaction.
"So tell me," you practically purred, leaning forward over the desk in a sinuous movement that had Akutagawa's mouth going dry with want. "Now that the floodgates have opened and you've admitted to the all-consuming thirst you've been harboring for me...what comes next? What does a man like you do when the object of his devastatingly intense desire is no longer kept at arm's length by invisible barriers?"
The undisguised challenge - no, blatant invitation - laden in your words obliterated what little remained of Akutagawa's restraint in a blinding supernova. Before conscious thought could even reassert itself, he had risen from his seat in a blindingly swift movement, rounding the obstruction between you.
You regarded him with heavy-lidded eyes and a quirk of your lips as he advanced, apparently not at all put off by his sudden proximity or the scorching intensity radiating off him in waves. If anything, your expression only seemed to sharpen further with undisguised hunger at having provoked this uncaged reaction at last.
"Well?" You breathed out as Akutagawa suddenly cupped the back of your neck in one large palm, fingertips brushing over your thundering pulse point. "Are you going to take what you've been starving for? Or was this just the feverish ramblings of a man who can't back up his smoldering bravado when finally conf-"
The rest of your taunting words were abruptly swallowed by Akutagawa's searing kiss as he finally bridged the last scant distance in a crashing wave of possession and unleashed obsession...
Akutagawa's kiss was utterly overwhelming in its intensity - an explosive collision born of too much pent-up desperation and volcanic want finally being released. There was no coyness or tentative exploration, only an unrestrained claiming as months of smoldering obsession poured forth in a searing brand.
You immediately melted into his bruising embrace with a muffled sound of approval, seemingly savoring the unadulterated ferocity he brought to bear. Your fingers threaded roughly through his hair, blunt nails scoring lines of delicious friction against his scalp as you eagerly matched his fervid passion.
There was an undercurrent of wildness, of two predators finally giving in to their primal urges and indulging in the gloves-off battle for dominance they had both been silently spoiling for. Teeth nipped at swollen lips, throats arched wantonly to offer better access as roaming hands grew increasingly emboldened in their exploration.
Akutagawa couldn't get enough of the taste of you flooding across his senses - the unique notes of lust and power and sheer unapologetic hunger all combining into an intoxicating blend he knew he would forever be chasing. He swallowed down your breathy keens and growled imprecations like they were the very air allowing him to keep surviving this maddening cycle of want and need spiraling ever tighter.
Finally, your nails raked over a sensitive cluster of nerves at the nape of his neck, causing his hips to shamelessly grind forward in a blatant demand for more friction. You hummed deep approval against his lips at the undisguised proof of what you did to him, allowing one long leg to casually hook around his as you pulled his weight flush against you.
"Insatiable," you murmured thickly between heated kisses, "I could feel your lust burning me from across rooms, begging to be indulged."
Something low in Akutagawa's abdomen clenched violently at the unapologetic words tumbling from your thoroughly ravaged lips. He growled deep in his chest, teeth scraping over the racing pulse point at your neck in a pointed reminder of just how utterly feral and uncaged his want for you had become.
"Say it again," he rumbled in a low rasp, the demand unmistakable as his hand went to fist in your hair. He punctuated his words by subtly rocking his hardness against you, relishing your full-bodied shudder and skittering exhale.
You seemed to instinctively know what he was after - that final taunting acknowledgment that you recognized the rapturous extent of his depravity where you were concerned. Your dazed gaze locked onto his, eyes molten with banked challenge before your lips curved in a ghost of a smirk.
"So eager for me," you husked out before surging up to seal your mouth over his once more in a searing, needful dance. As if speaking the truth out loud could do nothing to slake your own flames from finally being stoked as well.
Akutagawa practically snarled with gratification, his final tattered restraints violently unwinding under the full validation of his ferocious appetite being recognized and matched by your own. He gathered you up in his arms without breaking the frantic give-and-take, spinning to hoist you up onto the desk and step between your splayed thighs without missing a beat.
The hard line of his cock was now flush, almost painfully insistent, against your heated pussy. You undulated against the unrelenting friction like a woman possessed, seeming to egg him on towards claiming the sating reprieve you had both been hurtling inevitably towards all along.
It was all a dizzying rush of sensation, of hands greedily mapping over overheated skin and hungry mouths devouring each other. Akutagawa could not recall the last time he'd ever experienced a release so overwhelmingly euphoric and bone-rattling as when he finally claimed the ultimate prize.
As he sank into your impossibly tight heat, surrounded by your scent and enveloped in your welcoming heat, Akutagawa knew that the world had fundamentally changed. It had been irreparably altered on the fundamental level where a man can no longer imagine a time before the object of his deepest wants and hungers was there, surrounding him, sating his every carnal need and more.
As your hips ground together and your fingernails dug into his biceps in a wordless plea for harder, deeper, faster, Akutagawa felt a new hunger awaken. One that would be all the more insatiable for having been denied the satisfaction of satiating it for so long.
One that would likely drive him to the brink of madness, and perhaps over the edge entirely, if ever given the chance to truly sate it.
And judging by the way your eyes were glittering with equal measures of awe and wanton desire as your gazes crashed together in the hazy glow, Akutagawa suspected that the sentiment was more than mutual.
After all...there was no denying the danger lurking within a man who could not escape the pull of the object of his deepest, darkest, most undeniably human desire.
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devilevlls · 6 months ago
Text
"In the depths of my soul, you reside."
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3,259 words - Minors do not interact
TW 📌: "Satanic" rituals, abuse, explicit language, pornographic content, mentions of sexual abuse, hateful language directed at religious groups, blasphemy, corruption kink, demons being demons, unprotected sex, creampie, gay sex, MC is the bottom, MC trusts him to consume a piece of their soul.
MC is AMAB, I use they/them pronouns to refer to them because that's the way I feel comfortable in describing the character. They are called "boy, young man, son" and so. If you are uncomfortable with any of the warnings, please, do not read. Sumary:
After the former priest was removed due to accusations of sexual abuse, the authority place had to be filled by someone else and Lucifer, who owed a favor to his friend Simeon, took the spot, ministering that Saturday to fulfill his obligation.
He ends up finding a new motivation when he encounters MC, who is in conflict with themselves about their dark thoughts. Their desires and duty are fighting to see who would take the young human and the demon would like to help, with a price.
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The sound of the chapel's heavy doors echoed, interrupting the stillness of the afternoon, as the man dressed entirely in black entered, moving with determination and agility, casting furtive glances around to ensure he was not being followed. His long, purposeful steps led him until he stopped in front of a cowering, sobbing, fearful figure.
The young human was kneeling before the bench, hands clasped in prayer, tears flowing freely.
"Why are you crying, son?" The newcomer's hoarse voice cuts through the silence, his imposing red eyes penetrating deep into the boy's soul.
They were startled, interrupting their prayer to look at the one who was getting in the way of their sacred moment.
"Forgive me, sir." They bowed gently, voice trembling.
The elder gentleman stood majestically, dressed in the attire befitting his vocation, exuding an aura of divine elegance. 
With a subtle clearing of the throat, they signaled their intention to speak further. “I believe you are the new priest responsible for our humble chapel this saturday. I am your assistant, aspiring priest, a... Deacon.” The human struggle with their words.
"It's nice to meet you, MC." The older man's husky voice delivered a playful tone.
"How do you know my name? I haven't introduced myself yet," MC replied, somewhat intrigued.
"Do not worry. I know everything," the man replied, his enigmatic smile seeming to widen even further. "My name is Lucifer." He took a few steps towards MC, his confident posture and penetrating gaze causing slight discomfort.
A frightening shiver ran down MC's spine, but they forced themselves to maintain composure, standing up and trying to appear receptive, although the nervousness was still evident.
"That's a pretty unusual name for a priest," MC commented, their voice a little shaky as the younger one tried to hide the fear that was beginning to settle inside.
"Do not be scared. I will only stay here while the other priest is being investigated for the rape of the young people in this chapel.”
The mention of the accusation made the boy take a step back, feeling their stomach twist with tension.
"Oh... yes."
"Did he touch you?", Lucifer asked, taking a step forward and reaching for MC's chin, forcing them to maintain eye contact, his imposing presence dominating the surrounding space.
"No, sir. Father Kahleus has always been very kind to me," MC responded quickly, feeling uncomfortable with the unexpected physical contact.
"Humans are so hypocritical, don't you think?", Lucifer continued, his voice filled with cynicism, as he watched MC's reaction with interest.
MC gave a nervous laugh, confused by the direction the conversation was going. "Humans...?", he began, before being interrupted by the tall demon.
"Please, refrain yourself from acting like you don't understand," Lucifer said, his gaze making them uneasy.
Swallowing hard, they turned away from Lucifer, looking down at the ground for a moment before taking a deep breath and gathering the courage to respond.
"Sir, we shouldn't make that kind of analogy in a sacred place like this. Would you like to accompany me, so I can show you your private room next to the tabernacle?"
"Show me the way," Lucifer replied with a mischievous glint in his eyes, watching as MC chose to ignore the reality unfolding before them.
— * 
Once inside the room, MC presented all the important documents, financial notes and accessories for the masses that would begin the next day.
"Do you have any questions, sir?" The human asked, briefly meeting Lucifer's gaze before looking away again, feeling uncomfortable under the intensity of those piercing eyes.
"Why were you crying earlier?", Lucifer asked suddenly, breaking the brief silence that hung in the room.
A shiver ran down MC's spine before he could respond. "Father Kahleus was never like that. I feel like the devil tempted him," MC confessed, voice thick with worry and confusion.
Lucifer held back an ironic laugh and sighed, shaking his head. "Are you that naive? People are bad and blaming the devil doesn't make them better," he replied with disarming directness.
"Don't you understand? We have oaths. We all do, and I'm sure you did too," MC insisted, struggling to comprehend the complexity of the situation.
"Many centuries ago, when my wings were still white as snow and my mind corrupted by the ideals of a cowardly creator," Lucifer murmured, a trace of melancholy passing through his eyes.
MC sighed, feeling scared and confused, taking a step back and inadvertently bumping into the coffee table.
"Don't be scared, but I must admit that the more time we spend together, the hungrier I get," Lucifer said, voice filled with a strange sadistic energy, he enjoyed watching his prey connecting the dots and becoming alarmed.
"You... You did this to him?", MC asked, voice cracking at the terrifying possibility.
“Ah… Now you have become aware of who I really am.” He smiled slightly and concentrated for a moment, making his demonic form apparent. “No, I didn’t do anything.”
MC tried to scream, but before they could make any sound, their mouth was immediately silenced by Lucifer's firm, gloved touch, which covered their lips with firm pressure. The demon's gaze conveyed a silent warning, a contained threat that echoed beyond the simple physical gesture. The air around them felt heavy, thick with palpable tension between the two, as MC fought the panic that threatened to wash over. The young human’s eyes widened in despair, but the words were suffocated before they could even come out.
“Let's not make a fuss, okay? You're safer with me than you were with that creep. Unlike him, I know how to keep my dick in my pants instead of molesting innocent young boys and girls.”
MC's eyes widened at Lucifer's explicit language, feeling uncomfortable with the description and lack of shame.
Stopping for a moment, Lucifer was truly stunning, almost mesmerizing, and he was so close already... It made the human's heart race.
The demon sighed and removed his hand from the boy's mouth, looking around before moving away, breaking the physical contact that had left MC so tense. “You don’t look very old, how old are you? Why are you so naive?” “I’m 23 and not a child to be naive.” MC hisses a little offended “I’m aware of what happened, but I can’t believe he would do such a thing.” “Then you are just stupid, young man," He says agressively before changing the subject. "Well, I believe your work is finished for today. I'll see you at mass tomorrow", Lucifer declared, his voice filled with indifference, as if the previous meeting had never happened.
"Why...", MC started to ask, before being interrupted by Lucifer.
"Why, you say? I'm just following orders, nothing more," Lucifer explained as he settled into the office chair, crossing his long legs with an air of nonchalance. "Please leave. You're making me agitated with all this excitement between your legs." Lucifer's final remark made MC feel heat flush their cheeks. “I’m not excited!” They complained.
“I can see your erection from here.” The demon states dismissively, opening one of the reports to analyze.
MC quickly walked away and left the room without saying another word, feeling embarrassed. The encounter with Lucifer left them shaken and confused, questioning how all this could happen in such a sacred environment.
Why didn't the demon attack him or do terrible things to them? These questions echoed in their mind as the panicked figure hurriedly walked to the quarters.
Once there, MC threw themselves on the floor and closed their eyes, trying to banish the disturbing thoughts. The human wondered if it was all just a nightmare or a bad joke, but the firm feeling of Lucifer's hand still hovered over their skin, making them feel indecently warm.
"I wonder if he's really going to minister tomorrow…", MC muttered to themselves, voice filled with uncertainty and apprehension.
They feared what the next day might bring.
—*
The other day, in the morning as promised, MC entered the private room before mass to organize all the accessories, but was surprised to find Lucifer dressed for the celebration, his attire highlighting his magnetic beauty even more. So handsome... So tempting.
"What...?", MC began, their shaky voice reflecting the confusion at seeing the demon there.
Lucifer turned and sighed, recognizing the human's presence. "You again…", he murmured.
"I'm your assistant. I-I mean... I'm the substitute priest's assistant!", MC hurried to explain, reeling in their own troubled thoughts as they watched the demon button his shirt and put on his chasuble with a disconcerting naturalness.
"So nervous early on. This way you won't make it through the rest of the day," Lucifer teased, approaching the young man with an intimidating presence. "Can we go or are you going to keep devouring me with your eyes? I thought you had a vow of chastity to keep."
MC stepped back looking away to avoid the temptations Lucifer offered. "We may proceed. The faithful are arriving," they replied quickly, trying to maintain the composure.
—*
It was truly surprising to watch Lucifer lead the mass. He delivered speeches and read bible verses as if had memorized them in his mind centuries ago. Well, in a way, he actually had them. After all, he was once an angel before becoming that.... Thing.
MC found themselves staring at him as he continued with the ministration, unable to look away. Lucifer's beauty was mesmerizing, every movement elegant, every word spoken with authority. Even though they knew who he really was, MC couldn't help but admire, getting lost in the details of his sculpted body and magnetic aura.
They tried to push away the conflicting thoughts, focusing on the church service that was taking place in front of them. But despite the efforts, the demon's presence continued to exert an undeniable fascination over them.
After concluding the morning mass, they both retreated to the private room once more, where Lucifer intended to change.
"And with that, I'm free from this stupidity," Lucifer remarked with disdain.
"But there's still Sunday mass," the other replied.
"I couldn't care less. Saturday was my agreement, and I've fulfilled my part," Lucifer retorted coldly.
"Please, I don't know how I'll find another priest!" they pleaded, their voice tinged with desperation before clearing their throat. "Not that you're truly a priest, but..."
"Perhaps I could assist... for a price," Lucifer interjected.
The human sighed disapprovingly. "And what do you want, demon?"
"Fear not, nothing of a carnal nature unless that's what you desire. Just a small sampling of your soul. It won't be painful..." Lucifer's voice dripped with mockery, knowing full well it would inflict torment.
"Okay... but..." They fidgeted nervously. "What if I desire... to explore something more?" The young man struggled to articulate their thoughts, aware that the words might inadvertently reveal the weight of something deeply personal. Despite the embarrassment that lingered, they saw this moment as an opportunity to confront a long-standing question that had lingered since their teenage years: exploring intimacy with someone of the same sex.
"More...? Pray, enlighten me," Lucifer responded, already aware of the human's desires but relishing in their embarrassment nonetheless.
"What if I desire... to be intimate with you?" they whispered, their cheeks flushing crimson.
"Ah, you are a naughty one," Lucifer chuckled, crossing his arms. "Very well, then. You've piqued my interest enough to indulge your curiosity."
Lucifer drew nearer, enveloping them in his embrace, arms around their waist, and swiftly initiated a fervent kiss, his tongue forcing the other to yield while they squirm, their kisses growing sloppy.
"Ngh..." the human moaned softly.
"Hush," Lucifer whispered, pulling them closer until their backs met the desk, eliciting a startled squeak. "We wouldn't want anyone overhearing, would we?"
The boy felt his heart thundering as they attempted to match Lucifer's fervor, but this was, indeed, their first kiss. Delicate hands roamed frantically over the demon's back, grasping at his clothes, while their legs trembled, on the verge of collapsing.
Observing the human's struggle, the avatar of pride seized their waist and gently positioned them on the table, slipping his hands beneath the fabric of the shirt to caress the delicate skin underneath.
The young assistant was already swept up in excitement, their cheeks ablaze as they breathed heavily. Their eyes darkened with lust, body craving more with every heartbeat. There was a slight twitching inside their pants and Lucifer noticed right away, brushing his long finger on top of it.
Lucifer leaned in closer, their lips grazing the human's ear as they whispered in a low, sultry tone, "You're quite eager, aren't you?"
They shivered at the sensation, their whole body tingling with anticipation. "I... I want..." stuttered the assistant, their voice barely a whisper as desire flooded their senses.
With a smirk, the demon gently lifted their chin, his gaze locking with the assistant's as he whispered, "Tell me exactly what you want." Swallowing hard, their heart race in their chest. "I want... I want to feel you," they confessed, voice trembling with a mix of nerves and longing.
A predatory gleam sparked in Lucifer's eyes as he leaned in, capturing the assistant's lips in a searing kiss. They melted into each other again, the heat of their desire igniting a flame that consumed them both.
The demon quickly starts undressing, taking off his clothes and tossing around before doing the same with them, until they are only with their underwear. Feeling both exposed and exhilarated, the human experienced a rush of courage as they reached out, their finger tracing along Lucifer's firm chest and abdomen. His physique wasn't overly sculpted, but it was undeniably defined in a way that stirred desire within them. It was fucking sexy.
Biting their lip, they chastised themselves for entertaining such thoughts about him. Yet, with every movement, their mind spun with vivid imaginings of what lay beneath his clothing, igniting a wild frenzy of desire that threatened to consume them completely.
“Now let's begin…” Lucifer cast a spell, conjuring a bright red light that momentarily dazzled the priest assistant. As their vision cleared, they blinked in surprise to find Lucifer holding a bottle of lube in his hand.
MC's cheeks flushed crimson with a mixture of arousal and astonishment. "What... what did you just do?" they stammered, their voice betraying a blend of curiosity and anticipation.
“I just got something to assist you.” He spreads some of the liquid on his hand and comes closer, sliding their underwear down. “Now, be a good boy and spread your legs for me.” As they opened their legs, Lucifer adjusts himself in between, sliding the underwear off his body, making the hardened shaft plop against his abs. The human widened their eyes, admiring how thick and perfect it looked. It was way better than they could ever imagine. Taking a deep breath to steady themselves for what would come next, they fix their gaze on Lucifer as he spread the lube over himself with deliberate care.
Anticipation coiled in the air between them as he stepped closer, now caressing their thighs. “Hold into me and enjoy your ride.” His low voice echos into their mind.
As Lucifer aligned himself and pushed into their entrance, MC gave a sharp intake of breath, instinctively clinging to the demon as a wave of intense pain surged through them. Tears welled in their eyes, and a soft sob escaped their lips, the sensation overwhelming and unexpected.
"Oh, do not cry," Lucifer murmured with a smirk, his voice a blend of amusement and a hint of something more complex. Despite his earlier taunt, there was a surprising gentleness in his actions as he continued to push himself deeper,the movements careful and deliberate, attuned to the human's sensations.“I almost feel pity of you.”
As the older man's hips pressed against theirs, the human's moans and pants grew louder, caught in a mix of pain and pleasure unlike anything they had ever experienced before. 
With each thrust, MC's member pulsed with desire, coating their belly with slick pre-cum, a testament to the overwhelming arousal that coursed through them both. 
"L-Lucifer... I..."
“Already?” Lucifer teases, moving faster and pushing forcefully inside them. They didn’t answer, only digging their nails into Lucifer’s back, nodding while moaning desperately.
Seeing the opportunity, the demon smiles sadistically and turns into his demon form, dark wings spread, growling like a wild animal. His tone was demonic, it had something almost disturbing in it. Without a word, he sinks his fangs into the boy's shoulder, the sudden surge of pain and pleasure caused the boy to gasp and squirm uncontrollably, their body convulsing with ecstasy as they release their load, splattering a mess across both of them in a wild climax of desire and darkness. As Lucifer indulged in consuming the ecstatic piece of soul, relishing its delectable taste, he exercised restraint, ensuring not to take too much.
It was a corruption that came so natural, so enticing, it only fueled his insatiable hunger further. With each taste, he felt himself sinking deeper into them, reveling in the delicious sensation of it all.
He couldn’t hold himself anymore.
He grips into their hips, his nails digging into their skin as he thrust himself deeper with a primal ferocity, ignoring the human's pleas for respite as they get overstimulated, he moved with an unrestrained urgency, becoming increasingly feral as he relentlessly massaged their prostate with his tip. With a primal roar of release, the avatar of pride surrendered to the overwhelming intensity, emptying his pent-up load deep inside them. Groaning and trembling from the sheer magnitude of the moment, he gasped desperately, seeking solace in the warmth of the human's neck as he nuzzled against it. That was the most vulnerable moment of Lucifer, the afterglow. Holding their body tightly, Lucifer ensured they couldn't escape from his corruption, his embrace a mixture of possessiveness and longing, binding them together in the aftermath of their shared descent into darkness. "Hells..." he murmured, his voice heavy with satisfaction. He threatens backing away but gets pulled back into the embrace.
"Please... Don't go yet," the human pleaded, their breath still coming in ragged pants as they hugged him back.
"Listen... I'm just here because I was in debt with a friend of mine, so I had to hold a stupid mass, now that I'm done with it, I will go back to Devildom. I'm just catching my breath," Lucifer explained matter-of-factly.
"Oh... So I'm not going to see you again?" There was a slight hint of sadness in their tone.
"What? Are you switching sides now? Want me to take you to hell with me?" Lucifer smirked, nuzzling against the MC's neck once more, inhaling their sweet scent mingled with salty sweat.
"No! Of course not. How could I...?" they replied, their tone falsely offended.
"Don't deny me like we didn't just... you know, fucked" Lucifer teased, his smirk widening as the human blushed and caressed the back of his neck.
“D-Don’t say such a thing.”
"Since you are so inspired… Maybe I could indulge you in a second round, but I don't think your human body will handle me again," Lucifer suggested, his voice laced with amusement.
"Please... Again," they whispered eagerly, desire evident in their eyes.
"Guess I will visit you more, human," Lucifer agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
With smiles exchanged between them, they resumed their passionate embrace, forgetting the world outside the private room as they risked getting caught in the most sinful act they could ever do.
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Ok, this took me too long... I really really really hope you guys liked it. >﹏< AO3 version OH! And thanks for the 300 followers! You guys are amazing, thanks for the support, for rebloging my stuff and interacting in the posts, I'm loving every part of it.
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thatfreshi · 1 year ago
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Greater Than This (Astarion x Reader)
Part 2 to It's Over
Tw - mentions of abuse
Recommended Song: If I'm Being Honest - Dodie
You walk around Baldur's Gate aimlessly, wondering if he'll follow you, wondering if he really meant everything he said. You didn't really mean it, when you said it was over, just something to hurt him the way he hurt you. That's the problem with you and Astarion: you can be so childish at times, always looking for an eye for an eye. Perhaps it's all you know. Maybe it was for the best, to not try and love one another, maybe you just didn't know how.
But then again, how could you sit there and let him become everything he hates? And why would he want that? Had he genuinely convinced himself it would be any different? That he wouldn't fall victim to demonic greed? Or was he truly just petrified, after centuries of being the beaten underdog? It makes your eyes water just thinking about it, the few things he had told you, the times your tadpoles connected and you were witness to atrocities you didn't know existed. It wasn't fair, but nothing is.
He's thinking about it too, the horrors of the kennels, the crypt and the taste of mold. Astarion didn't mean it when he said you were just like Cazador. In fact, he's nauseous at the thought of him even saying such a thing. But he snapped at you, and it was enough for you to say it was over. Were you being genuine? He wasn't sure, but he could very easily believe you'd want to leave him. Sure, he's so enraged, but he loves you truly. Two very hard feelings to balance. Unsure of what to do with all his scattered feelings, he finally makes his way downstairs to join the group.
"Well well, if it isn't the vampire of the hour. How ya doin' Astarion?"
Karlach gives him a slightly unwelcome pat on the back. He tries to think of some snarky thing to say, something sassy that will get a little laugh, but he can only muster up a meek sentence.
"Do you know where Tav is?"
It grips at his heart, how pathetic he felt. Gods, how could he be so angry but so sad? He knows you're often right, that you usually make better choices than him, but did you really make the right choice this time? Was he really so incredibly wrong? But still, you killed Cazador, which he had every right to do.
"They uh... they left a while ago. Seemed very upset."
Wyll takes a sip of his water afterwards, as if to avoid saying anything else.
"Guess it's a good thing I don't burn in the sun just yet."
Astarion leaves the inn, leaving your companions to speculate about the lover's quarrel. He walks around town looking for you, listening intently to all the footsteps nearby. Perhaps it was years of training himself, but he was quite good at determining whose steps were whose. You catch sight of him as you're sitting under a large oak tree, and part of you is furious. But the other part of you screams for him, begging him to notice you. He does soon enough, and he makes his way to the grassy patch beneath the leaves.
"Mind if I sit?"
You don't know what to say. Clearly he doesn't either, as he's questioning if he was even allowed to ask. Despite the confusion in the air, you pat the ground next to you.
"I don't think you're like him."
He wraps his arms under his knees.
"I know. But you still said it."
"I know. I guess I still say plenty of stupid things."
You look up at the sky, thinking about how sunny it is today.
"Did you really want to do the ritual Astarion?"
He lets out a small breath, like a tiny laugh.
"I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I meant something. I wanted to be something greater than this."
"You're already so extraordinary. I wish you could see that."
The vampire doesn't know what to say. How could he ever describe just how horrible he feels? He feels like nothing.
"Me too."
"You don't have to be some grand creature. You can just be Astarion."
"But who would ever respect that? A sad little boy, some meek vampire spawn with no master."
"I respect you."
"I didn't feel respected when you killed Cazador. You undermined me. You've never made me feel like that before, like I was less than you."
You start to cry again, putting a hand on his knee.
"I never wanted to make you feel less than, but I was so fucking scared. You were about to make a really bad decision."
"It just made me feel like you don't trust me."
"Of course I trust you, but it's easy for your view to become blinded when you're processing so much. Going back there, I know it was hard on you, and you wanted to take the easy way out, the path of least resistance."
His eyes meet yours.
"Would you be proud right now, if we were in that palace, if you had become the ascendant? Is that how you'd want to spend your days? Towering over people?"
"No. But at least no one could make me feel small again."
Astarion leans into your side, starting to let go, letting the emotions come and go.
"I know my love, I know you've been made to feel inferior your whole life, but it's over now. I won't ever let someone make you feel like that again."
"You- can't promise that."
"No, but I'll try my damnest."
You lay your head on his, and the two of you cry for a while, as strangers walk by, wondering what two adventurers are doing crying under a tree. Oh how little they know.
"You were right. To stop the ritual I mean. I think I was just angry with myself, how meek I felt."
"I still should've done it with your permission."
"You know how stubborn I am darling. I probably wouldn't have listened."
"I didn't give you a fair fight."
"Are we going to keep trading blame? Or can we just get to the part where we make up?"
You smile, wiping away a tear, and the two of you go in for a soft kiss.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry too. See? Easy, we're even now."
"How do you do that? Just, realize you were wrong and move on?"
"It's easy. Or, it's easy with you at least. You don't ever get truly upset unless something matters, and you're usually more grounded than me. I get out of hand quite easily you know."
"Oh trust me, I know."
Light laughs in the sun, a static day with no breeze, just the heat beating down on the townspeople. It's not perfect. The two of you both overstepped, but you love each other enough to work through it, to try and see the other point of view, even if it's after nasty arguments. The two of you are messy, but damn do you love messy. Especially if messy is a white-haired vampire, who you get to spend the rest of your life with once the Elder Brain is gone. You see it now, a big house, and more stupid shouting matches that you'll fix shortly after. The price you pay to be two people trying to learn how to love, learning how to live, freely.
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miles-wrightworth · 15 days ago
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Miles and Phoenix headcanon dump
TW for self harm, abuse, disordered eating, trauma, sui attempts, scars, ableism and homophobia mentioned once
put some of your fav headcanons about them in the replies/reblogs and tell me your fav of mine!
these guys are not okay. headcanons below (not all angsty I swear)
Miles
Full Name: Miles Gregory Edgeworth
Gender: demiboy/boyflux, he/they
Appearance hcs: 
Really pretty eyes
he has many scars on his shoulder from an incident with MvK
he has some scars from a suicide attempt around his neck (ropeburn)
He has self harm scars on his forearms and thighs. Lots of them
He has scars on each of his wrists from his 1yg suicide attempt
He is VERY pasty. Like he's WHITE ASF. 
General hcs:
Has an eating disorder (anorexia-bulimia) because of MvK’s constant harsh criticism of his appearance
Struggles with self-harm (cuts on forearms and thighs)
Has tried to kill himself multiple times
When he left the ‘choosing death’ note, he meant it. He has the scars on his wrists to prove it
Trans. He hid it from MvK and has pretty much been stealth his whole life. He never goes on T, just does voice training and gets top surgery when he ‘chooses death’ in germany. He has to recover alone. (or with Void vk)
Gay. women love him, he doesn't understand wtf they're trying to do
Autistic. He doesn't understand a lot of jokes and social cues. He gets overstimulated sometimes. He has a happy stim where he doesn't flap his whole hand, just his fingers. He has a nervous stim where he grabs something or tightens his hand into a fist and squeezes. He has bled a few times from his fingernails digging into his palms from this. 
Has some internalized homophobia and ableism due to MvK >:(
Fav musical is Phantom of the Opera 
He uses Earl Grey and lavender scented cleaning products and has an extensive hair care routine. 
On that note, his hair is soft asf and Phoenix loves to pet it
Miles is an lgbtq+ icon in Japanifornia. He's a prominent political figure who is openly gay (stealth trans for a while) and he advocates for lgbtq+ rights
He is English and Japanese
He knows English, Japanese, German, French, and Borginian (after aai). He knows at least a little bit of every European language
Plays violin, flute, cello, piano
He is starved for affection (both physical and otherwise)
He hates being touched unless he completely trusts the person touching him
Hates hospitals because of DL6 when he woke up in a hospital (and because of a few sui attempts)
Is a huge cat person, but owns Pess because she’s trained to help him with panic attacks
Favorite food is German cheesecake, likes sweets a lot
Wears gay little garter socks, sleeps in silk pjs
Character development questions:
What does his bedroom look like?
Fancy queen bed with a canopy thing. Burgundy and pink bedspread with plushies secretly stashed in the closet. Has a desk with a whiteboard in front of it. Uses the whiteboard for case notes like those connection boards in police departments. Has a clean mahogany desk with a fountain pen, laptop, tasteful lamp, and legal pad on it. Post-it notes EVERYWHERE.
Any daily rituals?
Has tea at 4pm every day without fail. Gets upset if he is interrupted. Tells Phoenix how his day went every day when asked. Tends to work overtime.
Cleanliness habits?
Very clean. Has a maid when he lives alone and has Gumshoe clean his office biweekly. Once he moves in with Phoenix and Trucy, he ends up cleaning the house frequently.
Eating habits/daily menu?
Tends to skip meals, both accidentally and sometimes purposefully. Has lunch with Phoenix whenever possible. Has tea frequently. Earl gray. Likes sweets and has butterscotch on his desk and in his bag. He eats it occasionally.
Fav way to waste time?
Watching Steel Samurai, writing poetry and fanfiction, listening to music
Book genre?
Psychological horror, the DSM5, gay romance, likes stories set in Victorian era and psychology related books
Long term goal?
Use his influence to make the law as effective as possible and get justice for victims of crimes by punishing criminals
Fav beverage?
Tea. hands down. He also loves virgin strawberry daiquiris 
Coping strategies?
Self-harm (before he tries to recover). Once he marries Phoenix, he becomes comfortable going to him for help. He listens to music and watches Steel Samurai to distract himself. Has his blue cat plush that he uses to self-soothe.
Pet peeves?
Liars, slow drivers, slow walkers, has an unnatural and extreme burning hatred for child abusers/bad parents, incompetent people.
What is in his pockets?
Ornate Swiss pocket knife, fountain pen, mini packet of wet wipes, monogrammed handkerchief.
Phoenix
Full name: Phoenix Ryuichi Wright
Gender: genderqueer, he/him
Appearance hcs: 
Heterochromiaaaaa! Right eye is brown, left eye is blue
Big puppy eyes
He's pretty tan due to his partial latino heritage
He has a scar on his lip, scars on his hands, and many scars in his mouth from the glass necklace shards
He has a scar on his cheek and hand (very deep scars) from a squabble with Kris 
He has large burn scars on his side (where his kidney would be ig) from MvK’s taser
He has many scars from falling off of Dusky Bridge. Some are cuts and some are burns
He’s a chubby guy naturally. He is pretty self-conscious about it and about the fact that it makes him look more feminine.
General hcs:
Adhd. he chews his pen and bobs his leg as stims.
He has really bad abandonment issues due to his mother leaving as well as Dahlia’s betrayal and Miles’ leaving him twice
when he was around 11 his mom just dropped him at a foster center or smth and left (because she was struggling with addictions and didn't want her child to grow up in that environment and she was a single mother so she had nobody to take care of Phoenix) Phoenix grew up as a stealth transmasc in foster homes without any permanent family until he was out of the foster system at 18 and lived in a dorm
Trans. has had top surgery since he was 20. Started T at the age of 21 and got bottom surgery while studying to take the bar at 23. Mia helped him through recovering from both surgeries and she was very supportive.
His hair is naturally spiky but he gels it to make it EVEN MORE SPIKY
During 7yg he becomes an alcoholic (partially due to Kristoph’s influence) 
His alcoholism reminds him of his mother so he feels horrible about it and tries his hardest to keep it from Trucy
He has trauma from Dahlia and Kris. sometimes he can't take meds or eat certain foods because it reminds him of past trauma
Phoenix downplays his trauma or feels like it's his fault for trusting Kris/Dahlia cuz he's surrounded by people who have "worse" trauma and he's like 'oh well my parent didn't get murdered in front of me. my trauma is nothing compared to Athena or Miles' he never wants to talk about his own trauma because he feels like its invalid so he just never tells anyone and pretends its fine
He is latino and Japanese mainly (perhaps also greek teehee)
He knows English, Spanish (not as well and EG tho), and a little bit of Japanese
Can actually play piano
Love languages are touch and words of affirmation
After 7yg, he is really paranoid for a solid year or so due to Kristoph
He hates hospitals because he had to be hospitalized after Dahlia’s trial for about a month for healing his throat and stomach as well as for psychological evaluations
Wears random socks, half of the time colorful. Sleeps in boxers and a t shirt
Uses Axe body spray when 14-33, uses coconut old spice once he gets his badge back
Character development questions:
What does his bedroom look like?
Pretty messy. Clothes everywhere, a few plushies, a desk in the corner with a corkboard in front of it. He puts random files, pictures, notes, etc. on it and has some on parts of his wall. Nothing fancy. Just below a queen size bed with two pillows and a blue blanket. 
Any daily rituals?
After 7yg, he checks if the door is locked twice when he comes in the house or leaves. Always says hi and bye to Trucy as well. Always asks Trucy and Miles how their days were over dinner. 
Cleanliness habits?
He sometimes gets bursts of energy to clean. Usually tries to clean up right after he gets something messy, but forgets a lot and doesn’t clean up his dirty clothes very often. Just below average hygiene and cleanliness.
Eating habits/daily menu?
Doesn’t like to eat crunchy stuff much, but makes an exception for always getting crunchy shell tacos. He usually has an average breakfast (bagel, cereal, bacon). Meets up with Miles to have lunch whenever possible (partially to make sure Miles eats). They usually go to a casual restaurant, eat lunch for an hour or so, and then get back to their jobs. Miles, Phoenix, and Trucy all take turns making/helping to make dinner. They eat out about once a week. Sometimes to celebrate winning a case.
Fav way to waste time?
He likes drawing, annoying Miles, sleeping, and watching those dramatic stupid shows like Dance Moms and The Bachelorette.
Book genre?
He doesn’t like to read. Doesn’t have the attention span for it. But he loves comics and manga. Particularly enjoys medieval setting fictional adventure stories that have a happy ending. Occasionally reads cheesy romance novels to laugh at it.
Long term goal?
His goal in life is to be needed and remembered. He wants to help others and be remembered as a light in their lives. He wants to make a significant positive impact on the lives of the people around him.
Fav beverage?
He likes sweet tea, cream soda, and plain ol’ water the best
Coping strategies?
He tends to ramble and vent to the people he’s close to (Maya, Miles, Larry sometimes) but also tries to push them away somewhat and neglects talking to them as much as he needs to because he’s afraid he’s being annoying or clingy. He ends up pretending it’s fine even though it’s not.
Pet peeves?
People judging others, bullying, people being inconsiderate or ignorant of the needs of others, liars.
What is in his pockets?
Random trash, gum, phone, wired earbuds from a gas station, probably some random 30 cent pen.
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yomogi-mogi-mochi · 6 months ago
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Orchid Child, Dandelion Child
Pairings: Riddle & Sibling MC (NOT a romantic pairing)
Summary: This is going to take after Riddle’s overblot, and short and sweet. The term orchid child/dandelion child refer to children who may have very specific/different needs for their development, and those who need less accommodations or specific requirements for their development, respectively. They may grow up in the same environment but everyone’s needs are different, one child may have different coping mechanisms than the other. MC is heavily implied to have dyslexia, ADHD/Autism, and OCD (the latter two of which are often comorbid)
Notes: My brain is so dead. Enjoy this very short piece, sorry it's been a while.
TW: Graphic descriptions of embalming (weird tag I know but listen listen listen hear me out‒), also mentions of blood and human biology; past domestic/child abuse, and mental illness
GN Terms for MC
AO3 Link Here
Masterlist
--------------------------
Adjacent to your mother’s footsteps, you had always had a curiosity for the medical. Though it was never living bodies that enamored you. In death, biology levels all. Cremation, natural burial, or alkaline hydrolysis‒ no amount of money, or intelligence, magic, or talent would help anyone escape the inevitable. Whether able bodied, rich, poor, moral or not‒ all people returned to dust, bones, and decay. 
  Rituals like the embalming process always brought you a strange comfort‒ the draining and ejecting, bathing, refrigeration‒ the body incised, emptied of its filth, and sewn back up. Imagining the dissection of a body into each fleshy component relaxed your own‒ as if your cold body lay on a sleek, steel mortuary table, your jaws and eyes sewn shut and the biology of your body ready to be drained. Even if your insides were scraped out for people to see‒ you would not feel shame. No blood to rush to your cheeks, or your aching heart. Your mother had always dismissed this career choice, urging you to find something ‘more within your reach ’.
  Your body would be clean from its excrement, scrubbed of all the insides that capsized you from this world, and its people.
  Compartmentalization‒ your psychiatrist mentioned. It took you a few tries to correctly register the word in your head when you had gotten the report, you’re not sure if it’s correct. If you did not imagine this scene at least three times a day, you felt like your blood was going to burst forth from your membrane, hot and spastic, like a monstrous clot of nerves. Again. Again. Again. You cleansed this shaking contamination within you with whatever you could do. That’s wrong. You dig your nails into your palm, resisting the urge to lay the papers that were shuffled around by the headmaster on the floor, sorting and checking one by one if they were there. Again, again, again. You imagine an arterial tube weaving through the wounds of your hands, draining the warmth that itched against your skin, the function of your wandering eyes, and the defect of your mind.
  “I’ve signed off on everything. Is there anything else I can do for you, Mx.Rosehearts?” 
  “No, nothing else. Thank you, Headmaster Crowley.” 
  You gather the stack of papers in your file, you check through‒ quickly‒ your medical records, doctor’s notes, psych evaluations, annotated versions of section 504, interpreter documents‒ a variety of other loose papers that wedge inside the old file as best you can, just in case . Even for such a minute accommodation, lacking a legally recognized diagnosis prepared you for the worst. Rejection‒ a tumble and drag into a system not designed for you in mind. These accommodations were an afterthought after that system was built, something to make you “whole”. There were many experiences in your interactions with school boards that warranted preparations like this, which you scrubbed into your mind and routine. No one will help you‒ not the board, the teachers, your peers, your family‒ you must be prepared to advocate for yourself. There was never room for failure, and you made sure that these accommodations made up for your innate nature to do so in this system.
  You bow a perfect ninety degrees before you head out of the office, quietly shutting the door behind you with a soundless exhale. Adjusting the stack of papers in your file, you scurry off to the library to find a quiet corner to reorient yourself. You weave through the various open tables, the large seating area, and the comfortable nooks with beanbags‒ and instead, opt for your usual spot in the corner of the library, where you softly place the file on the desk. 
  That’s wrong. Again. Again. Again. Again. 
  You open and close the file four times, feeling a wriggling, hot feeling in your blood that completely halts your mind from moving forward with your process, despite the short amount of time you have until your next class. 
  No. Again. 
  With the sixth time, it feels right. You sigh in relief, thanking whatever higher being out there that the process didn’t take as long as before. Medical records, doctor’s notes, psych evaluations, annotated sections, interpreter documents. All in order, all there, only for you to see. A weight lifts off your chest as you shift your eyes around the library, and close the file. 
  You browse through the section of the library, running your finger along the spines of the books to spot a new read.  A mauve leather-bound book catches your eye, the gold letter glinting in the dusty light of the library. Smoke Gets in Your Eyes: Other Lessons From the Crematorium you skim the summary on the back. Satisfied, you work your way to the counter, where the librarian checks out the book with a smile. She pulls out the book slip at the front of the book and a pen. 
  Riddle Rosehearts. 
  You almost make a sound at the name, but instead, you quietly chew in your inner lip to provide some sort of grounding for the whirling feeling in your stomach. You feel sick when you write your name in the same cursive as the name above yours‒ just like your mother taught you. 
  “ Again .” Your mother would say. 
  You write. She slaps your hand with a ruler, reaching over your shoulder to erase the word. 
  “ Again .” 
  You write. She slaps, she erases. 
  “ Again .” 
  You write. She slaps, the paper begins to fray from the friction of your eraser, and the tears that run hot down your cheeks. Inertia. Inertia. Inertia. You repeat the word in your mind, trying to mold it with your hands. But the black text above the frayed paper seems to weave together, jumble, congeal. You push the hot coal in the back of your throat, forcing your bruised hand to write. 
  That’s not right. Again. Again. Again. 
  Why can't you just do it the way you're told?  
  Medical records, medical recommendations, psych evaluations, doctor’s notes, annotated sections, interpreter documents. So much extra weight that folder holds that you have to carry everywhere with you‒ just in case . 
  Again. Again. Again. 
  You open and close the locker shut, twisting the locker combination each time. At this rate, you know you’ll be late to class, way past your accommodations agreements. You hope Professor Trein won’t make such a big scene. 
  When you arrive at class, you are miraculously left alone by the professor and your peers. Breathing a sigh of relief, you take your usual seat, finding a practice exam on your desk. 
  You didn’t properly shut your locker. People are probably stealing your stuff now, breaking your things, tearing your extra records into pieces. You didn’t properly shut your locker. The documents are ruined, and you have to start all over again. You didn’t shut your locker. You grip your pencil, bouncing your leg, digging your nails into your palm. Yes, yes you did lock it. Three times in fact. Still, a voice persists‒ you didn’t do it right. Again. Again. Again. You scratch, and pick at the broken skin of your palm. 
  Eventually, as you continue staring at the packet‒ you feel a stab at the back of your shoulder. A student jabs forth the packet of papers that were collected from the back with an exasperated face. The papers are basically thrown your way as you add your half blank packet to the pile, swallowing down your anxiety. Trein continues class as usual, going over the review sheet. 
  “Mx. (Name). A word?” 
  You freeze in your seat, in the middle of gathering your things for next class. Students’ gaze furl towards you, and you pick at the wound of your palm to calm the rising panic in your abdomen. Begrudgingly, you pack up your things, and head towards Trein’s desk. 
  “I will excuse your tardiness for today since you have accommodations, but that does not explain the almost completely unfinished practice exam that we took in class. Do you care to explain?”
  You refuse eye contact. “I…” There was no way to explain it with any sane sensibility, or without alerting your mother. “I apologize sir. I was distracted. It won’t happen again.”
  He sighs, you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s your condition‒ you look to the stack of accommodation letters and agreements tucked under his elbow, and you feel that weight in your chest. 
  “Please, sir. I’ll do anything to make up for it I‒”
  A hand is raised at your response, with a pinch at the bridge of his nose. “It’s…It’s quite alright. I know you are trying your best, considering your… situation . Please finish the packet before you come to class next time.” Trein hands the packet back to you, which you accept with a silent nod. 
  The situation, the condition, the baggage. There have been many terms used to describe your disablement from the world‒ each more alienating than the other. You draw blood on your palm once more, looking inside the crescent-shaped holes in your flesh. You feel nothing but the trembling deep in your chest. 
  You sit in the shared space of the Heartslabyul dorm, hoping that body doubling will allow you to finish your workload. Though it takes you some time, you manage to finish your work before the sun sets, and you scurry back into your dorm room to begin your book. As you try to relax, the thought of a missing assignment, a failed exam, a systematic blunter pricks at your skin, spreading and choking your flesh. You read the same sentence over and over, but understand nothing. 
  Why can't you just do it the way you're told?  
  You hear a knock at your door, seizing you from your thoughts. You sigh, shove whatever scrap paper that had been lying around into your book, and reluctantly open the door. 
  Riddle Rosehearts. 
  You remember him from his perfect handwriting, his words that mirrored your own mothers. You could never get the “R” quite right, something both your brother and mother scolded you for. 
  “Rule of threes, you understand what will happen when you fail the third time.” Again. Again. Again. 
  Riddle had always resembled his mother much more than you had‒ in voice, in appearance, in tone. “ Rule of threes, (Name). You know what mother will do to you when you fail the third time .” He extended your mother's violence with all his likeness to her, in his face that would look down upon you with aberration, and his tightened fists that dragged your head to look closer at the paper, and realize your error. Every way he came into contact with you had been wrapped, tightly as flesh, your mother's violence. 
  You imagine that cold table again, but Riddle’s silvery eyes tethered you to the moment. It was as if you could feel every shifting tendon of your body, every pull of sinew and blood that pumped blood rapidly to your heart, and the back of your ears. But the guilty look on his face reminded you of one of the rare times he had broken mother’s rules. You realized he was as much of a child too, that day. Stretched thin and tall to fill your mothers expectations. 
  His stare is unbearable, you push through the tension in your throat. 
  “Can I help you, Dorm Leader Rosehearts?” 
  You think you see his worried expression, but your eyes dart from his gaze when he looks towards you again. 
  “You left this on the table in the common room.” He extends you the file that you thought had been safely tucked with your belongings. Your vision begins to distort‒ graying and distancing as you attempt to keep yourself calm from experiencing your literal nightmare . “I thought you wouldn’t want anyone to see it.” 
  “I…do not, no. I would not wish to shame you, or this dorm.” 
  Riddle takes a sharp inhale. You unconsciously tightening your body‒ imagining the postmortem stages. Pallor mortis, your blood pools to the souls of your feet. Algor Mortis, your skin feels on fire, and cools dead, limp. Rigor mortis, you stiffen and contract. The nutrients of your body drained, breaking down to gray sludge. You prepare for the breakdown of your body, your psyche, and your soul‒ the wounds on your body are only evidence to your movement through temporality in this system. Livor Mortis, your blood bruises your skin. 
  “I did not…mean that. I only meant‒ I felt…” He sighs, looking towards the floor. “I’m bad at this. But I didn’t mean that this is something shameful. I only wished to protect your privacy.” 
  You avert your eyes, unsure of what to do with him wanting to protect you in some sort of way. Perhaps his overblot changed him, but all you see if your mother’s shadow, when you look towards him. 
  “It’s not important, I apologize for the trouble, Dorm Leader Rosehearts.” 
  Maintaining his grasp on the file, he attempts to keep this connection going. “There’s so much I need to apologize for.” 
  You only manage a strangled sound, afraid to pull the file towards you. Afraid of movement, of air, of space, of time, of him. Everything seems to strangle you, you know that it was precisely designed that way.
  He cups a hand over your own. You try to repress the tremble in your body from the searing feeling of his palm, too afraid to look, speak, or move. You remain still, like a corpse, hastily trying to turn off your nerves and the bursting blood in your body, slaughtering it, and draining all feeling from your body. It’s been so long‒ your body rushes to catch up. You’re always catching up. Always. 
  “I don’t want to upset you. I just came to apologize, but I understand if you don’t want to see me.”
  Your mouth is sewn with silence, your jaw caught in a tremor in your mouth. Quickly‒ your mind makes the decision to speak‒ mother never liked when you didn’t answer to her questions. 
  The words scrape through your throat. “I…” A gulp to lubricate the convulsing motions of your esophagus. “Nothing is wrong. I apologize, dorm leader Rosehearts. It will never happen again‒ I apologize‒ I will make up for it. Please.” 
  His gaze softens. “I’m not asking because I’m asking you to apologize, or make up for anything. I’ve learned some things…I wanted to make up, but, I want to make sure you’re okay first.” 
  “Are you okay?”
  You spare a glance at his face, almost caught in the worried expression adorned on his features. “I don’t understand what the purpose that question serves. I can’t understand…” Still, you worry what will happen if it seems like you blame him for your lack‒ so you shift the weight on yourself once more. “I am incapable…of understanding. I apologize.” 
  “Hey.” He mellows his voice as much as possible, releasing you from his grasp. “It’s okay.”
  “You asked me a question. I was incapable of giving an answer that satisfies you. That is a violation of the rules, is it not?” You retract your hands to your chest, pressing your nails into the wounds on your palm. 
  Riddle folds his hands, almost nervously fidgeting with them. You almost react visibly with awe at the sight. “Our mother may have been wrong about a lot of things. I only recognized that after I attended here, and made many friends who helped me understand that. I am extremely regretful of the things I’ve done to you, and the things I’ve said. There’s no excuse for the things I’ve done, but I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me someday‒ I want to reconnect, if you’ll allow me.” 
  You push the file against your chest. “...I don’t think it will be easy. For me, or for you. Especially for me.” 
  “Most things that are worth something aren’t. I realized something while I was overblotting.” His cheeks gradually bloom pink, a habit he’s had since he was a child. You remember the color most when he cried, but he looks sheepish. Igniting the same warmth in your cheeks, you look at his feet. Heels, you never noticed. He must be shorter than you. “I missed you. I really did. And I missed what we could have had. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been a better brother to you.”  
  “I think…I missed you too.” You admit. “I think neither of us can ask for help, we’ve been raised that way. We have drastically different ways of coping with that isolation.” 
  “I think so too. I have a lot of work to do.”  
  “ We do.”
  Rubbing your arm up and down, you soothe yourself‒ thinking of bodies and corpses, your skin buzzing from the thought of decomposition‒ what grows from them. The fruits of death lay thick and sweet on your tongue, as you stumble through a small smile. Riddle reciprocates.
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End Notes:
Obviously this is only a small glimpse into what healing from abuse and trauma is like. But it’s a start. The first steps count.
I’m also in no way shape or form attempting to justify Riddle’s behavior. He’s a complete and total asshole for sure, but he was a kid‒ I definitely see him as capable of change.
The terms Orchid/Dandelion child are relatively new, and I find the pop-psychology approach to it very distasteful (as pop psych usually is. do your fucking research people. PEER REVIEWED ARTICLES!) But I wanted to use the terms to kind of critique the notion of this divide between "resilient" and "nonresilient". It's just a matter of needs, which are different for everyone. Making this hierarchical distinction is arbitrary and often times ableist, as it normalizes a singular, hegemonic way of reacting/experience/compartmentalization/coping. Anyways read more disability studies if you want to know more.
Because I’m not officially diagnosed (my disabilities are not officially recognized by law because for me the disadvantages gross outweigh the benefits, like literally having your human rights stripped away) I don’t know the specific details of acquiring accommodations in a school setting apart from my position as a teacher, but please let me know if there are any errors in the information so I can fix them expeditiously
I also wanted to write about the systematic issues disabled people (particularly those with “invisible” disabilities or those who are “undiagnosed”), I feel like I’ve been experiencing a lot of issues and push back from a system which is not built for disabled people in mind (and often is used against the community in an attempt to eradicate the category). Furthermore, I wanted to explore the aspects in which traditional psychiatry/curative methods are not built for neurodivergent individuals specifically. We often get diagnosed (especially those who have been socialized or perceived as female) with other disorders because of the perpetual stigma against ADHD, and autism in particular. Mainly why I didn’t go the psychology/psychiatry route, despite (one of) my undergrad major(s). It would have been immoral for me to be one, if held up to the current regulations set by the American Psychology Association, or the regulations in my home country. Anyways, lots of problems I wanted to address‒ not sure if I was able to explore them more at length, but I’d like to do more of this in the future.
The book Smoke in your Eyes is a reference to Caitlin Doughty’s book. I highly highly highly recommend her youtube channel and any of her books tbh. She writes/talks a lot about death culture and our perceptions of death throughout history, and creating a more death-positive culture.
I wanted to avoid some of the common stereotypes and misconceptions of OCD, which is predominantly characterized by excessive handwashing, needing things very neat and in place. I wanted to explore the more internal obsessions, rather than focus solely on the external compulsions‒ as I feel like the external behaviors that are often portrayed in media don’t explore the inner workings that make the disorder so hard to live with (and treat).
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satanicsanity · 1 year ago
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Guess who's got more au lore for Baker-wally!! (I worked hard on this with some friends and mutuals in the Discord server)
Tw: Disturbing themes, cannibalism, implied abuse, violence, demonic-ritual stuff, overall Just... Huge trigger warning! This is a bit dark!
The overall lore, so far:
Wally was unstable from childhood, grew up in a violent home, baking was always a coping mechanism for wally... Whenever wally was sad or angry, he would bake. This always kept wally calm... And happy. Wally found from early childhood that sugar improved his mood immensely... By large amounts. (this lead to later-on sugar pills, to keep himself happy and.. mostly stable)
One day during his childhood, a close friend of wally's passed away. Wally (being completely off his rocker already) ended up eating their corpse in a desperate and crazed attempt to stay close to them... and never forget them. But upon doing that he got a sudden addiction to it, to the taste of the flesh... and began going out late at night to kill innocent folks and would frequently draw little pictures in the victim's blood.
However one evening upon doing this... He accidentally drew some kind of demonic entity symbol (A swirl to be specific 🌀) which summed... Well... And entity. (because it was drawn in blood) which lead wally into the knowledge of the paranormal, etc etc.
Realizing all of this... He tried to convince the entity he'd accidentally summoned, to bring his friend back. But the entity couldn't do so... because wally had eaten and harmed the corpse... Meaning they couldn't be brought back, because they had no physical body to be brought back TO anymore.
Wally was discouraged by this, but the entity decided to give wally an offer... The entity took a quick liking to wally.
So the entity proposed a deal... Keep making sacrifices to them, and the entity would assist wally... Giving wally SOME of their mind and time manipulation abilities to use however he wished. The only downside, is that this mind manipulation could only go so far... And could only erase others memories for so long. (There was a time-limit on how long the memories would stay erased, in a sense.)
Wally of course took the deal without hesitation... Using it to his advantage to get more sacrifices, to keep the power the entity has granted him alive. But there was another issue, the entity only needed the blood-symbols and the life of said victim... They had no use for the victim's body. (And wally could only eat so many victims at a time on his own.)
And so, Wally began struggling to hide the corpses and the police were catching on... As the downside was previously mentioned that wally could only erase people's memories for a certain amount of time, before the memories would be returned. (The Time manipulation didn't help, because The memories were still intact after time ran out for the erased memories. It just made people slightly confused on why the day seemingly reset.)
So wally moved out of town quickly for a fresh start, packed his things and left without a trace... Left his family behind... Left everything behind. Eventually finding himself in a cute neighborhood. Wally quickly made friends with some nice neighbors... Barnaby, Julie, howdy, Eddie, frank, Sally, and poppy.
Unable to keep his cannibalistic murdering urges at bay... Trying to bake to Distract himself from those intrusive thoughts... He realized he could simply get rid of the corpses by baking them into the treats he makes. Not only that... But he could embed his new-found power into his treats by infecting it, in a sense.
So wally worked some magic when greeting his new neighbors formally, offering them cupcakes... That he infected himself using certain sprinkles (doused in the entity's power he'd been given) that would allow complete control over those neighbors minds, COMPLETE control. (the same sprinkles that are stuck in wally's hair, a hidden sign of wally's control over the neighborhood) This created a loophole of sorts when it came to wally's power limitations... The time limit didn't matter anymore, BECAUSE wally's power was now attached INTO their bodies and systems, attaching onto their brains, growing like fungus... Wally had complete manipulation over their minds now and practically the entire neighborhood, no time limit to worry about. This would make things much easier... He could create the PERFECT neighborhood! Killing off neighbors he didn't like, baking them into teats to serve, and his neighbors would be none the wiser! And if he was ever caught... He'd simply erase their minds, and reset the day!
There was one issue though... Poppy didn't take his cupcake offer upon first meeting. This is a huge issue for wally... Because now she's the only one, besides wally, who remembers things the others don't... And is aware of the day-resets. And she has a strong feeling it all has to do with wally. (which she's absolutely correct, but has no proof)
When poppy tries bringing this up to the other neighbors, they have no idea what she's talking about. (like I said... Their minds get erased by wally if he's ever caught.) Poppy knows something isn't right... and wally is aware poppy knows, as she never took his cupcake offer. She's as aware as wally is of the neighborhood resets.
Wally finds this a bit fun though... And strives to make poppy feel as if she's going crazy. He doesn't bother using his short-term mind eraser on her... He finds toying with her is far more amusing.
Now where does home (wally's bakery) come in with all this?
Home was built from the ground up by wally, and brought to life through sacrifices wally made to the entity. In short... Home basically owes wally their life. Wally is the reason home is alive and conscious... Which is a reason why home never goes against wally's word. (other than the fact wally also protects home to an extreme extent.)
In A VERY short sense: Wally's gained complete control over the neighborhood, and all the neighbors expect poppy, through the help and collaboration between him and an entity who'd taken a liking to wally after an accidental summoning.
(This is all over-explained and word vomit, so I apologize for that! If there's anything problematic about this story, I will go back and fix it! <3 I tried to make the lore as close to the overall theme as possible! This may be edited in the future!)
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lookismstuff · 10 months ago
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Highlights of Ep 481
SPOILER ALERT
tw: child abuse
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James gave Eugene the USB containing the video of Charles' abduction of Gyeol with the condition of his being allowed to see Jinyoung, which Eugene refused out right.
After this refusal, James at first took back the USB but then relented after he was told by Mandeok about Jinyoung's insanity whenever the old scientist heard of certain names, including James's and the King of Seoul's.
Eugene wondered how many perpetrators were actually involved in Gabryong's murder (since James told Eugene that he was Gabryong's killer, but the King of Seoul was called "The Patricide" by Jinyoung).
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But James cut Eugene off by saying that Eugene should focus on catching Charles and saving his friend (Gyeol).
Eugene told James somebody was already tracking down the proof.
Daniel arrived in Cheonliang and found it full of thugs, even near the police station. And they were not from Cheonliang but from Jeolla-do area etc.
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Daniel met NA JAEKYEON, the King of Incheon, who complained that Daniel scratched his sports car. But Daniel had no idea that the person was the King of Incheon. They argued (Daniel wanted to report him to the police) and had a brief scruffle until the king realized that Daniel was a minor.
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The Kings (Taesoo, Gongseob, Seokdu) gathered at the Mountain of Cheonliang. Introducing new characters: the King of Pyeongtaek HA DEOKSOO and the King of Seongnam GO JINYOONG. The King of Busan is absent.
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The Kwak brothers came too, bringing Jichang's photo with them.
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Soon afterwards, Jaekyeon nearly hit Taesoo with his car from behind. It angered Taesoo so much that he destroyed the car's bumper. Gongseob stopped the two kings from fighting.
Vin came and greeted the kings (he called them old geezers, and mentioned that a great person died).
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Mention of King of Cheonliang by Vin (the so-called great person who died, or did he refer to Jichang?)
Flashback to: Vin at 8 years old, being offered as a sacrifice during a shamanism ritual that worshipped a "Child God". Animal blood spattered his face and his body as he sat naked, while people dancing in religious fervor around him in a cold night.
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The chapter ends with Vin saying "This is my story..."
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baldurs-writers-3 · 7 months ago
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Angst: A BG3 Rec List
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This week, we have Angst!  Check under the cut for 12 fics that include a lot of that oh so tasty pain (both emotional and physical!), and as always, comment and kudos if you like them!
The lick of poison by astarionfreak (4994,Explicit) Warnings: Sex pollen, fuck or die, dubious consent, forced orgasm Pairings: Astarion/Naenia (Fem!Tav)
This is a sex pollen/fuck or die fic. Naenia is the only one affected. Astarion has some complex feelings about consent. It's set in Act 1 in the Underdark.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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Daisies On My Nightstand by Thedrowlock on AO3 and bhaalbabebardlock on tumblr (158000,Explicit) Warnings: PLEASE be mindful of all tags and chapter notes especially as you progress through the story. This fic takes a hard, hard dive into dead dove territory at chapter sixty and stays there (the angst stays too). This is an ongoing, updates almost daily longfic. Part one is almost complete. Pairings: Named Dark Urge (Ilara)/Astarion; Ilara/Gortash, Ilara/Shadowheart, Ilara & Raphael, Ilara/A!Astarion
The story of a Bhaal-spawn who only ever wanted her freedom, and how far she'll go to find it.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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In Another Life (I Found You) by grovyrosegirl (74380,Mature) Warnings: Violence, Death, Grief, Kidnapping, Emotional/Psychological Abuse Pairings: Gale/Tav
Five years after the Netherbrain’s defeat, Gale and Connie (Tav)’s happy married life is interrupted when Connie is suddenly kidnapped by a mysterious intruder. This intruder turns out to be another Gale, from a world where he claimed the Crown of Karsus.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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Deo volente by cyranonic (33529,Mature) Warnings: astarion's past is mentioned, so i guess TW: Astarion :( Pairings: Astarion/Gale
Astarion is having a shitty time post game, miserable without the sun. Gale is having a miserable time as well. Watch them drag each other down even worse!
Reccer says: a darker look than many fics at what could occur after the game is over, with some characters feeling abandoned. Super well written in general, great Astarion voice.
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Oathbreaker by Mellybaggins (173240,Explicit) Warnings: Major character death, rape/non-con, religious trauma, some dead dove content Pairings: Tav/Astarion, Tav/Halsin, Tav/OC
A longfic about an oathbreaker paladin navigating the events of the game, and working through her own memories of why she broke her oath.
Reccer says: It seems like a standard Tav fic at first, but takes a sharp turn into OC territory when Raphael messes with her memories.
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jackrabbit by tomorrowsrain (15589,Teen) Warnings: past abuse (really, CW: Astarion :( ) Pairings: Astarion & Karlach, Astarion & Wyll
Astarion wakes up on the beach in the sun and realizes he has a chance at becoming a person again. Maybe.
Reccer says: Seriously one of the best examinations of Astarion's transformation during the game from the start of act 1 to mid act 2 that is out there. A treasure to read.
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You'll hate me (make love) by astarionfreak (5305,Explicit) Warnings: Character About to Die, Smut, Sad and Sweet, Angst, Bittersweet Pairings: Astarion/Tav
Ascended Astarion pretends to be his spawn self as Tav's dying wish and they fuck on his grave.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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Diary of a Dark Consort by NottaBear (8,619 and growing ,Mature) Warnings: Implied/Referenced sexual assault, emotional manipulation Pairings: Named Tav/Ascended Astarion
A found diary style story following the life of a Vampire Lords consort.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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i still want to live by fetch_me_penguins (7750,Explicit) Warnings: None Pairings: Astarion/Tav, Astarion & Jaheira, Tav & Jaheira
An angsty take on the premise of Cazador kidnapping Tav to replace the spawn she killed on the Ascension ritual and to teach Astarion a lesson on obedience.
Reccer says: I liked it!
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Ruin. by Thedrowlock (3859,Explicit) Warnings: Major character death, smut Pairings: Astarion/f! reader
It's been five years since you left The Vampire Ascendant and everything he offered you, but now you're back to handle him. Why is that so hard?
Reccer says: I liked it!
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Stolen Futures by onlymine139 (2530,General) Warnings: Major character death Pairings: Gale/Tav
Gale and Tav journey to Waterdeep to start their new life together, only to be interrupted by a devastating realization.
Reccer says: Just some good old fashioned heartbreak.
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when the work needs doing, she will see it done by vampireposter (7940,Teen) Warnings: None Pairings: The Dark Urge & Jaheira
A small neglected and abused child attempts to assassinate Jaheira, so she adopts her about it
Reccer says:
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The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! 
Next week, we’ll be back with Fluff Fics!
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androgynous-agent69 · 4 months ago
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info dump away!!! *grabby hands at your amazing writing*
Ohohoho~! Thank you dear anon! :3
So, this info dump is gonna be about the lore regarding my COTL fanfic mainly focusing on Leshy, Leon (my name for the Yellow Cat), and the other main Characters of COTL such as Narinder and the Lamb (and i even managed to add the Goat in as the Lamb's advisor(?), but i havent shown anything on this blog yet. Maybe soon, idk :p).
I'm only gonna be discussing the backgrounds and context of my posted story works and any essential still-private work that gives further context, because I'm too self-conscious about the rest of the still-private stuff, but what I will tell you is that the full story is mainly just me creating pages of either backstories, or building on relationships with Leshy and the others (such as when Leshy & Leon visited the coast area to hang out on the pier, discuss Leshy's background, and terrorise a few lighthouse cultists).
So, let's begin!
(WARNING: MENTIONS OF PTSD, CHILD ABUSE/HARM AND TRAUMA, VIOLENCE, GENOCIDE, AND SUICIDE BELOW. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!)
Starting off, I wanna talk about my most recent post, which is about Narinder trying to apologise for what he did to Leshy and the other Bishops.
I'll be honest, I do take inspiration from the stuff I see on tumblr, and when I came across THIS post of Leshy crying on Narinder (art by @wels-corner)
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I suddenly had the urge to create a similar scene where Leshy begins arguing with Nari, which then slowly dissolves into a mental breakdown.
The whole "Shamura being essentially brain dead" isn't shown explicitly in that scene, but in the story there is a part where Shamura gets Leshy to chat, where they explain that trying to regain the Green crown will be useless as "the crowns will not accept a bearer who has failed" (failed = died/beaten by the Lamb). Leshy then begins to angrily panic and grabs Shamura by the shoulders to ask for more information, but Shamura's brain injuries then takes hold and they revert from "Bishop of war" to "elderly librarian who doesn't even know who their younger brother is, let alone their name".
Next up: The nightmare that Leshy has about Narinder's betrayal! Let's hear it for PTSD!!!
Jokes aside, I REALLY LOVED how this turned out, especially after all the tweaking I did to the story. The scene takes place after another part of the nightmare involving Leshy's regret and guilt regarding the Lamb Genocide, which is why it begins with "When you look back up", as Leshy looked down at the ground and tuned out the noises and sights.
I also did my best to make Narinder's words about each Bishop reference their injuries, if anyone noticed. Shamura was said by Narinder to "always be the smartest" resulting in their head and brain being caved in. Heket "always said such profanities", resulting in her throat being slashed. Kallamar always "eavesdropped", which made Narinder rip off his ears, and little kid Leshy in that scene was, what Narinder referred to as "a worthless spectator", which made Narinder rip Leshy's main eye out.
Final bit of the post I wanna talk about is that deerfolk mentioned at the start. the one that's twitching and makes "strange, savage noises". In that point in time, Narinder had created a basis for the resurrection spell, however it was not without flaws. While the soul re-entered the body, this body was not repaired of any decay, and as such, they essentially became zombies. The Lamb, however, managed to iron out the ritual's error, and thankfully caught it out before Narinder had to use the ritual on them after a botched crusade (thank heaven for that, imagine a crazed zombie Lamb o-o)
The next post of my fic is the one with Leon and Leshy casually talking, which happens near the start.
This scene has no real inspiration, it's just Leon and Leshy bantering. One thing I would like to talk about is the quote "Ugh, I forgot that fool actually got to your head...". My last attempt at this fic, Leon had a completely different personality. He was a hater of Chaos entirely and instead a devotee of the Lamb, whereas currently he is a former Chaos follower who, after the Lamb genocide and The Lamb's gaining of the crown, was forced by the other, higher ranking followers, to be sacrificed to Leshy. This was interrupted by said Lamb, who recruited Leon to the cult and the rest there is history!
This is important, because there's another part of the fic where Leshy finally reveals his wounds to Leon, who then gets a feline instinct to lick the wounds (inspired by the multiple artworks of this), which makes Leshy warn Leon that black ichor is deadly. This, however, makes Leon confused as only God's like the Lamb and the Bishops have black ichor blood, and Leon quickly puts two and two together.
Yeah, it ends in a rather depressing scene where Leon attacks Leshy out of sheer anger, and Leshy stops a knife that was going for his throat, only to grab Leon's hands around the grip, apologise, and pull the knife into his neck. But don't worry, because the Lamb revives him on Leon's wishes roughly two weeks later after he mentally recovered.
Finally, for those that bothered to read all this way (or just scrolled right down, idrc lmfao), have a reward through the form of the aforementioned scene above!
(BTW ignore the long ass "~~~~~"'s. Its just how I divide the 'chapters')
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(Edits just fixing Shamura's pronouns, adding proper links, and fixing some grammar)
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tales-from-syscord · 6 months ago
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Tw: Talk of religion, abuse, and church/mass shootings
We had been in a syscord one day and they had like a kinda tw chat where you could talk about potentially triggering topics which most people weren't a fan of but some liked it. We went on because they were talking about things that maybe systems didn't exactly go through but were exposed to (think like at a young age being forced to watch a crime scene tape, they weren't physically there but were still traumatized by it)
We mentioned about how at 11, our grandfather (a church minister) showed actual footage of a church shooting. We mentioned how for years we were genuinely terrified of stepping foot in there in case our church was next. Well we got told that "it didn't count" and we were "mocking actual religious trauma" (mind you we do have some, we aren't like OEA (hopefully used the right acronym we're still trying to learn) but do have some religious trauma that caused some splits). We then tried to mention how even stuff like being in a school at the time in Florida when Parkland happened and we got muted for two days for "mocking" when we were trying to talk about something that genuinely caused us some harm, especially since everyone else could and didn't get in any trouble.
Last I (main fronter) knows, a protector left after calling the staff a choice of names that we are proud of.
Also have another one we might do tomorrow so we don't fill your inbox too much
-🕷️🌌
Dude WHAT. That's honestly wild, I'm so sorry guys.
Things that are traumatizing to you aren't mocking. It affected you deeply and that's a horrible way for them to reply.
The acronyms are OEA (organized extreme abuse) and RAMCOA (ritual abuse, mind control, organized abuse). They are different acronyms that stand for different things, but they are similar.
As far as I know, OEA is similar to the OA part of RAMCOA.
Also, feel free to spam our inbox! We'll get to them all eventually, whether you do it now or later it probably won't affect when we end up reading them :)
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rc-catalog · 3 months ago
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🖊️: fanfiction; 🖼️: moodboard; 🎨: art/edit; 🧵: web weaving; 👥: character profile Rating: General, Teen, Mature, Explicit
HEAVEN'S SECRET
Heaven's Secret: Series Rewrite by @dutifullynuttywitch |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Dino, Vicky x Lucifer, Adi x Sammy, other pairings | E
Les Petits Cygnes by @jillfvs |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Mimi, Eliza, Austie | TW: anxiety | G
Addicted to Love by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vicky Walker x Mimi | T
Heaven's Secret by @liykaii |🖼️| G
HEAVEN'S SECRET: REQUIEM
A Search for Understanding by @nepthys-merenset |🖊️| Lane x Dmitry | TW: mild blood, mutual roughness | T
The Nature of Duty and Surprises by @nepthys-merenset |🖊️| Lane x Dmitry | T
Heaven's Secret: Requiem by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: skulls | T
Cain by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| G
Lane by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| TW: skulls | T
Voice of God!Lane by @zhoras-bitch |🖼️| TW: blood | T
KALI: FLAME OF SAMSARA
Fate by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma × Ram Doobay | T
Belong by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Midnight Tryst by @zealouscanonindeer |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
You Can't Always Get What You Want, But If You Try Sometimes, You Might Find, You Get What You Need. by @zealouscanonindeer |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
You Know How I Love You by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | TW: smut, adult themes (implied) | M
Under The Orchid Tree by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Ours by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | TW: sexual relationship | M
An Aftermath of Episode 8, A Life For a Life by @webanglikethat |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | G
We Said Our Legacies Were Timeless (But We Were Not) |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Ram Doobay | T
Crave by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | T
Maybe by @agattthaa |🖊️| Deviya Sharma x Radha Basu | T
Ram x Devi by @ratanslily |🎨| G
Deviya Sharma by @liykaii |🖼️| G
PSI
The Only One My Arms Could Ever Hold by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Lou Reed x Ivo Martin | T
PSI by @liykaii |🖼️| G
W: TIME CATCHER
All Those Wretched Things by @secret-fungi |🖊️| Nova x Vesper | TW: emotional distress, mentions of religious abuse/ trauma, interalized homophobia, self-hate | M
WTC by @liykaii |🖼️| G
SOULLESS
Beautiful by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vyxaria x Walter | TW: threats of violence | T
Jealous by @agattthaa |🖊️| Vyxaria x Walter | T
ASTREA'S BROKEN HEART
Hands by @mikaelsrose |🖊️🖼️| Adeline x Mikael | G
Astrea's Broken Heart by @liykaii |🖼️| G
Adeline by @mikaelsrose |🖼️| G
ON THIN ICE
Spring Clean-Up by @ladylamrian |🖊️| Catherine Hill x Brian Baker | G
Catherine Hill, the Snow Queen by @ladylamrian |👥| G
VYING FOR VERSAILLES
They Behead Valets, Don't They? by @reneedenoailles |🖊️| (implied/mentioned) Renée de Noailles x Louis XIV, Alexandre Bontemps | TW: animal abuse, daddy issues, psychological warfare, executions | M
ARCANUM
Arcanum Season 1 by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: skulls, circus, tarot | T
AND THE HAZE WILL TAKE US
Haze by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: vulture culture, rituals | T
Rituals by @liykaii |🖼️| TW: dolls, rituals | T
SONG OF THE CRIMSON NILE
Song Of The Crimson Nile by @liykaii |🖼️| G
SHADOWS OF SAINTFOUR
Sarah O'Neill by @ladylamrian |👥| G
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