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nemesyaaa · 8 months ago

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losing my religion // dark!cult leader!rafe x innocent!reader

summary ; god loves you but not enough to save you.

warnings : mentions of religions. manipulation. cult. smut. corruption kink. small town church trope. religious trauma. purity/innocence kink. slight of god complex. first time. dark/soft!rafe. mentions of murder. sweet lamb trope. coercion. smoking. little age gap. heaven goal. mentions of size kink. glorification. be careful with the warnings. minors DNI.

author's note : it's around 5k words. pfiouuuu. televangelism by ethel cain playing in the background please. credits to @ickyrafe for the concept.

“ father, will i go to heaven ? ”

“ father, will i be this good all my life ? ”

“ father, where was god when i thought he was there ? ”

“ father, did god let me sin on purpose ? ”

you lived in a small remote village, the kind of town where everyone knew each other, and where there were no secrets. well, you thought there were no secrets because everyone here was a true and firm believer. all the locals lived for god. and you would do anything for him and for your ticket to heaven. you had been baptized as a baby and had grown up as a child of the lord, and his most faithful angel. you have acted so well since your childhood and were sure that your death will be a pleasant trip to paradise.

you went to church every day because you always had something to say to god, to ask him, to make him understand. you prayed to speak to him, for him to see you, for him to hear you, for him to know how grateful you were for the life he had given you. your parents had always recommended that you cherish your existence, but also everything that happened to you, the misfortunes as well as the pleasures. life was neither all rosy, nor all white, nor gray or black. you were the only person to give it color. so your religious sister told you that you just needed to know how to paint, but that sometimes you would fail, you would fail but that it didn't matter. because you will make a masterpiece again sooner or later.

you were a devoted child, a faithful lamb with no anger inside, but above all full of love. you gave it to everyone when god had taught you and commanded you to share it as much as possible, that it was this feeling that would bring peace on earth. and who did not want peace, who did not want to please his creator? you were a good girl, so sweet and innocent, the kind sweetheart of the town, incapable of harm or sin, always dressed in your white dress and your little black shoes. you wear everything that can please god. you walked through the church hallway to join the choir, holding the candles. the world had his eyes on you, but especially this tall man lodged in the dark corner.

this man was not god and you knew it, because god would never look at you that way.

you wouldn't know how to describe this gaze on you, but it made you uncomfortable. you continued to move forward, holding the flame preciously against you. you sang with your angelic voice, glory to the almighty, glory to the one who made your existence so beautiful, to bring your back to life every time you felt, and this guy was still staring at you like you were the only person that existed, like the world had taken away the entire universe except you.

maybe you were an angel. after all, you were among the Lord's faithful.

you had never dated a man in your life. your parents and god forbid you, because you needed to stay pure for the good one. you had to remain virgin and clean for your future husband. you were forbidden to look at them, touch them or talk to them except for church activities. you were so loved by god so you had no right to sin, no fucking right to betray him. you had to remain as intact as the mother of everyone, as virgin mary.

you were as holy as the bible, the treasure of the creator. you were devoted like a lamb to his owner, as the followers to the cult leader.

you had never experienced something like touching yourself, making yourself feel good, and anything that included carnal pleasures. you didn't know about pornography, sexuality and lust. you walked away from it as if it were the devil. you were unable to make your god mad, you were too scared for that.

you were faithful to the lord. you helped the people of the village, homeless, the destitute, poor children, the elderly, you helped the world become a better place even when it seemed to be turning against you.

at the end of the mass, everyone, the priest had sent you to collect the funds from the locals.

you were standing in front of the steps. people were always kind and smiling to you as you were collecting funds for the church.

and you had been waiting for this voice to come at you.

“do you really want to go to heaven ? ”

you turned to face the man from earlier, the one hidden in the benches. you answered him with the sweetest smile, and the most nervous look. "yes, i do everything to go there. am i not good enough ? "

“everything?” the stranger had laughed kindly, but it had offended you slightly with that soft giggle.

“ why are you laughing ? this is not funny. ”

“ slow down, baby. you're too pretty to get on your nerves. ” he had pulled out a cigarette.

“will you forget God for a second and be an angel to me ? ”

“ God is in my heart, is in me. i can't forget him, even for a second. he's the reason why i'm living. ”

“ be sweet, angel and light it for me. don't say no, your divine father is watching you, you don't want him to catch you refusing to help a stranger and be mad at you? ” you looked at him with strange open eyes but you accepted. because he was right.

you didn't know how to say no to people. God didn't teach you to say no. people needed to help the people.

you lit his cigarette, and during the whole process he looked at you, his glare scanned your face. you were staring at him, and saw your own silhouette in his eyes, your shadow dancing in the perfect blue of his pupils.

you felt the heat in your cheeks, the burn of his gaze on your skin. you were unwell. you didn't like this situation, the unsteady feeling, the stranger proximity.

when you met him, you felt like a sinner more than a believer.

but he smiled at you. the soft kind of smile that made you forget everything, that made you feel so dumb.

“would i go to heaven now?” you teased him with a small laugh to echo his words.

“not yet but i can help you if you want if you're serious about that.” he answered.

“ i'm serious. ” you were really curious, and he had your full attention. you knew it wasn't good to talk for that long with a man. especially, older. but you took the risk.

you should have stopped when he complimented you because your parents said that men who are nice to girls like you always have bad intentions. but there was also something so charming and bewitching about this man. the way he was adorable. you didn’t see the evil in him.

“i really want to go to heaven, i swear on my life, sir. ”

“ sir ? such a polite thing but i'm not that old, sweetheart. i'm tall, not too old. ”

“ anyways, i really want to go to heaven !! ”

“you already said it, doll. i think God is tired of hearing it now. he wants proof, you know. he needs to see how devoted you are to him. ”

“how can i prove it to him?”

"i know God. i talk to him every day. i am his ruler. do you know what that means? that i am the one who decides for him whether people go to heaven or not. i am his most loyal servant, so he trusts me.”

“are you really connected to God?”

"you are too. we all are but the difference is that i can take you to heaven. i promise you." he placed his hand on your cheek, caressing it gently , a tender and unique gesture that made you shyly smile. “i’m not an angel. not yet.”

"yes, i assure you. i knew it as soon as i saw you in that church. join me." he announced with a warm voice.

“you have always been divine, i never doubted it. you have to go to heaven, you understand? you can't behave so well, be so charitable and disappoint God? and you wouldn't dare doing it, don't you, pretty lamb ? because do you think he will forgive you ? no, sweetheart. you will be punished and rejected like every sinners. ”

“ you're wrong ! God loves me ! ”

“you don't understand. you must be perfect until the end, you must be a great god masterpiece, not his biggest failure. you can't just be the chorus of this choir, be the beautiful thing who holds the candles at mass, the kind soul who helps others. you can't be just that when i can offer you even better and absolutely everything you want. any of your wishes. join me and i will make all your wishes come true, i will make you the new face of the paradise. i will make God see you everywhere. ”

"it seems so unreal...i don't know..."

he had cut you. he didn't want to give you time to think, leaving room for the barrier of doubt."you have to join me, isn't that what you wanted? for me to find you? if you believe in god, you have to be a good girl, make the right choices. "

“okay….” you finally agreed.

he waited for you in his car, one hand on the steering wheel. and you joined him inside. there was so much euphoria in you. you felt like you were doing something so right, so you had this goofy smile on your face.

"does God think i'm a good believer ? i pray every day, i attend mass every time, i sing in the choir and in my rooms all the songs dedicated to him. i only have the Bible as a book and i read it all the time. i can't do anything wrong. i'm good, i promise, i'm good. ”

"is that true? you'll have to show me so I can tell."

“I’m going to pray for you too.” you added. “I pray for all the souls in this world.”

“oh yes my angel will pray for me. i want to hear your prayers, all your prayers about me. but not in front of me. "

“ why ? ”

“ seeing you bent on your knees for me will make me sin. i wish you could see the kind of temptation you are. ”

you had arrived in front of a mansion. you were so flustered and nervous. you didn't understand what you were doing in front of this place, and why he had brought you here. he took your hand, reassuring you with his touch, and guided you inside.

you were not alone. there were other people, women and men. all dressed slightly the same, as if there was a regulation outfit. the atmosphere was strange, a little sectarian. there was an organ playing in the background, and everyone was looking at you kindly so you tried to relax.

"don't be afraid. they're like you, they just want to go to heaven. can you understand?"

you nodded and he showed you around all the places. he even showed you a room and said it would be yours. she was pretty, absolutely perfect but she wasn't yours. not that of your house.

"I'm not going home?..."

"what do you mean? this is your home now. we're a family."

"a family? i have parents, they will worry…”

"i thought you wanted to be close to God. were they lies? you know, you shouldn't joke with religion, and with words. if you want to be a good little christian, if you want to go to heaven, it is to me, and only to me, that you must be devoted.”

"I...I...no, i promise! I'm sincere! i'm sorry, really, I'm sorry. " you now felt terrible. there were so many tears in your eyes, you couldn't even see the room clearly.

the man smiled before taking you in his arms. "it's nothing, you just need to be clearer with your words, okay? I'm your only savior, you don't need others.”

he had wiped the tears from your cheeks. “I have a gift for you…” he whispered and you found your smile again.

no one ever gave you gifts. it was so rare. “open it” he told you.

it was a dress. not the one you usually wore. “you have to put it on. don't you want to shine, shooting star ? ”

" now ? "

"now." his voice was a little firmer.

“i can’t change in front of you…” you admitted. "you're a man...and I'm a girl...it's sinful, it's like having sex! we have to get married to have that intimacy. "

he smiled and laughed. "you've never been naked in front of someone? you've never left this body in front of someone else?"

he had approached, slipping up behind you, towering over you with his height, his hands resting on the corners of your trembling shoulders.

“my sweet thing, it’s as if you’re begging me to corrupt you.”

“what do you mean?”

“that i must see this body.”

" Is it bad?"

“What would be bad, angel, would be to upset me.”

he had pulled the tab of your dress to lower it a little. there were shivers in your body. you felt like you were doing something wrong.

"you're not doing anything wrong. this is what god wants you to do. he told me."

" It's true ? "

“ only the truth. just now. i wouldn't dare lying to you, my sweet. ”

there was nothing you could refuse god. If it were his will, you would do anything.

"but I've never done anything like that? I always thought it was wrong, that I didn't have the right."

he pulled your dress down to the floor, your naked body revealed in the mirror. you could feel his gaze growing more intense as he took in everything you had shown him. "is my body okay? I mean, this is the first time anyone has seen it so..."

"sweetheart, I've never seen anything so beautiful. but I don't just have to see it to judge it, I have to touch it. will you let me ? "

“Lust is a sin.”

“do you want to know my name?”

you had just now realized that you didn't even know his identity. you nodded your head.

“rafe.” he spelled it. “ you must know my name to pray for me, but also to glorify me.”

“glorify ?”

"you must glorify me. salute me and worship me. these are the rules if you want to go to heaven. you must be devoted, I told you.."

" fine…”

he sat on the bed, and you moved closer but he stopped you.

"no, no. all this sweetness but no useful brain ? ” he mocked. “ to worship me, you must be on your knees. ” he said, crossing his arms on his chest.

“ treat me as the same way you treat your god, angel. because this is what i am to you. i want to see your legs bow down for me, i want to see them treading the ground up to me. i want to see that precious look at the same height of my knees, let me see that head lifted up to glory me. "

he had lit a cigarette, the fourth since you had spoken, and had smiled when you started walking on your knees towards him.

he pressed his hand against the growing bulge in his pants.

“open your mouth.” he commanded and you obeyed, and he slipped his cigarette between your lips. “don’t smoke it, hold it only. don't go against my rules. can i trust this dumb baby brain for once to not disappoint me ? ”

he had taken off his pants, with his boxers. and you turned your head, strongly ashamed by his action.

he mocked gently. “in your place, i would not look away, that would avoid unpleasant surprises when this thing will be buried inside your virgin cunt, sweetheart. ”

he had retrieved his cigarette, and turned your head towards him.

"I can't believe you've never seen one. you've been such a good girl to me. you've been waiting for me. "

“will god hate me?”

"it's not god you have to fear, it's me, sweetheart because I'm the only one who will decide for you from now on. do you understand? I have to be sure that you are deserving."

“how can i show it to you?”

“give me your hand. let me guide you...do you trust me? ”

“ i trust you, rafe. ”

he had positioned your hand on his cock which was already hard. you shivered. your hand was clumsy around his painfully boner. yet you had heard him let out a grunt.

his fingers moved with yours, accompanying you in his lewd movements. you had god in your head, heart and body but your fingers fisted around that thick dick made you warm and good. you hated that feeling, but you can't deny the pleasure. it was the first time. you weren't used to it. you moved back and forth with little confidence, while he kept your grip around his bulge. you followed his back and forth, pumping him with fragility. you weren't sure if it felt good but his muscles had tightened.

your fist slid over his length, your hand working massively. your touch was divine, he threw his head back. you could feel his abs twitching in synch.

“open those legs. let me see that sweet untouched pussy. i'm gonna take such good care of it. are you still trusting me ? ”

“ yes…”

you didn't want to. it flowed between your thighs, the wetness spurted in a mess on the floor. and you weren't sure if that was a good thing. you couldn't tell if it was pleasure or not. it was new to you.

“trust me, you don’t want to make me repeat that a second time. do you ? ”

and that was enough for you to bend to his will.

"you feel, baby ? the sweet mess between your legs ? don't hide from me. ”

you continued to masturbate him up and down. you turned him on so much that he already wanted to come in your hand. his cock twitched in your hold and his balls slapped repeatedly against his skin.

"does that make you feel good? do I need to do better? do you want me to put my lips on..."

he had cum on your face. and you stepped back in surprise. “let me clean you up…”

you came back to him thinking he was going to wipe you but he caught his seed with his fingers, and brought them to your mouth. “if you don’t want me to put them down your throat, you better lick them now.”

you lapped up every last bit of cum on his fingers until they turned white again. you knew he was serious when he threatened you. "that wasn't really a warning, I'll do it someday. I really want to use every part of your body. and you'll let me. yes ?”

“whatever you want...”

he smiled and stroked your hair. “you learn quickly.”

you didn’t really know why but his recognition made you happy. she had an impact on you. you needed, and sought, his validation. it promised you to be even closer to god, to show god that you were faithful to him.

you had this urgency to please rafe, to show him that you could be really good.

for rafe, you were another girl that he led into his cult, another lamb in the troop. you were perfect, you always had the profile. he knew it as soon as he saw you.

he had come to the church only to see you. he attended every mass and ceremony hoping to corrupt you. you were so innocent, so kind and so sweet, and above all, you were ready for anything.

you prayed every day and read the Bible. so you had a desire, a goal, a faith.

he had placed you on his legs, his hands caging your waist, wrapping each part of your hips. “I’m going to make you an angel.” he had said, rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet entrance.

“I’m going to go to heaven?”

"it's heaven that will beg for you to come to it, I can even say. but you still have to do one thing for me..."

“tell me. I’ll do anything.”

" good. i really want you to take that dick. show me how much you want to reach eden, i want to see god in you when i'm fucking you. i want to hear prayers in that mouth for how i make you feel, how perfect i am to you and that sweet cunt of yours.”

you rubbed your dripping pussy against his cock, feeling the feverish, leaking tip against your slick folds. you had gently entered him between your impenetrable walls until now, letting out a long and loud moan when you felt his dick getting even harder inside you. It took you several bounces on his thighs to get used to, your pussy stretching around him. you could feel every inch of his length filling your canal but also widening it.

his large hands covered your ass, gripping the gummy flesh of your cheeks, his body moving and following your movements. he had grabbed your face to force a kiss from your already open lips, sliding his tongue against yours. a drool dripped from your jaw, as your pelt slammed and bounced violently against his. your hands were around his neck, trying to keep up the pace.

seeing you struggling and jiggling, he laughed. “even if you had prayers, you couldn’t even say them, too fucking dumb for that shit, right now ? ”

and it was true, you weren't even able to say a word without gurgling. you had tears streaming down your face, your moans were locked against rafe's glossy and pretty mouth, and you were trying hard to take his big cock as best you could. his dick was stuck between your sticky walls, your breasts hitting her toned chest.

“keep going, you’re perfect…” his smile was evil because it motivated you.

you were riding him without even being able to think. you were a fragile little thing doing bad things with a bad guy.

but you wanted to please him. you wanted rafe cameron to think you were good and deserving. you wanted to go to heaven, so you did your best.

and he knew it. you had broken your purity for him.

you were convinced to do something right, convinced that god saw you and that he would be proud to see you so devoted to him.

you didn’t see the harm. you were an angel and you let a demon corrupt you.

you had succumbed to man and his vices, you had let sin enter into you, and let it do you good.

rafe knew what he was doing. you had been his prey. and he couldn't wait to see you at his feet, to make you his perfect doll that he could handle so easily.

because it was only the beginning before you were completely his, completely in control of you, choosing what you eat, what you want, what you wear, what you think.

you were his and his only.

you were his nice girl, not god's one, the one who smiled at everyone, who always prayed in the church pews, who helped those most in need.

he had found you and snatched you from god. because it wasn't him to whom you owed your life. you were wrong and he had to correct that.

you were an angel, and he loved seeing you cry for him. your tears was made for being looked by his ocean eyes, to felt loved by his kisses.

he was completely buried inside you, plunged so deep that you were completely dizzy. and every time you thought he couldn't go any further, he surprised you. you were pretty sure he could put a baby inside you right now, just from the way his cock thrusted inside you, invading your shaking body.

you had squirted and cried, accompanying your tears with apologies. "you're fine. it's just means you liked it. it will also happen to me, angel. don't worry.”

the more he called you angel, the more you began to believe that you were one. you had squirted again but now you weren't scared anymore because he had reassured you. you had been afraid that it would be a disgusting thing and that he wouldn’t want you anymore.

but it was so strange. he was both gentle and cold.

“stop...I’m going to be pregnant!”

"that's not how it works...but if that's what you want, I can take care of it...whatever the angel wants.”

after that day, your life had been totally different, completely transformed by rafe.

you were part of this community now. you were all brothers and sisters, united for a common goal. you always prayed. but above all, you were completely manipulated. you were so controlled that you forgot your family, your friends, your entourage, your involvement in church. only god remained with you. he was still there.

you wore the outfits rafe wanted you to wear, you ate the food he wanted, you only talked about topics he allowed, you became someone else. you were what he wanted you to be.

but one night you heard god. you were sure it was his voice in the darkness. you were sleeping in rafe cameron’s arms, his bicep resting on your stomach. it was strange to see him sleeping like a child when he behaved like that.

you had begun to follow god’s voice in the darkness, your feet pacing and pacing through the empty hallways. the light guided you, it was he who accompanied you. he pulled you out, into the huge garden.

“do you think you can leave? do you think you can leave me ? are you that fucking dumb ? ”

Rafe’s voice made you jump. you weren't sure if you woke him up because you were a quiet person. but now he was in front of you, and he really didn't look very happy.

"I have to leave..."

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

“god spoke to me.”

"oh really? god may be talking to you but you need to listen to me. aren't you grateful for the life i gave you? didn't you want to be good? you're tear up your ticket to paradise. just bury yourself alive at this point."

tears had started to fall down your cheeks. you felt trapped because you didn't know who to listen to. god or this man?

your feet moved towards rafe. as you approached, his arms stretched out as if to reassure you.

“i’m sorry….i'm really sorry…..”

“i know you are but you also know that it’s not enough.”

“so tell me what i need to do to be good enough? ”

“you must sacrifice yourself. ” he said with that deep serious tone.

you looked at him with fear. you couldn't kill yourself.

“ i can’t kill myself, rafe…”

“i know, angel but don't worry, i will. ”

“ what do you mean ? i always did what you wanted me to do, i always been so good to you, i never be against you and your rules ! you promised me heaven, you promised me....everything. was that a lie ? you 'ever be serious to me ? answer me...never ? rafe, i was all what you wanted me to be, even that was not enough for you ? ”

“ i really wish you were. any last word, baby? ”

“ can you at least shoot me in the heart ? ”

“ tell me why...”

“ it's the last part of me you never took away from me. but now that i will die, you can take it. it's all yours. ”

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vegan-peppermint · 5 months ago

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Your Boyfriend's Bed

Pairing: Hoodie x Masky'sGF!Reader Smut MDNI

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cheating, creampie, rough sx, P in V

Summary: Your boyfriend is a B, but his best friend's there to take your side.

Part 2 here

Author's Note: After a three-year hiatus, I finally found the inspiration to write again—thanks to this incredible fanfiction. It sparked something in me. I can’t recommend it enough, so please show the creator some love. Their work is the reason I’m writing again after all this time. This fic is inspired by their masterpiece, so I highly encourage you to check it out first!

________________________________

More often than not, you were a collateral victim in your boyfriend and his friend’s fights. Tim and Brian were too close for your liking, they had a great co-dependency going on way before you came in the picture. If Brain was in a bad mood, so was Tim. If you got in a fight with Tim, Brian was giving you the silent treatment as well as taking sides without hesitation.

It was more than you bargained for, not realising getting Tim as a boyfriend meant taking responsibility for his grown-ass best friend as well. But you managed. With each month that passed in your relationship it was getting easier for you, to the point it was almost natural to consider them both in every action you took.

Weirdly enough, you so much preferred for them to be mad at you instead of at each other. Whenever their balance wavered they started acting batshit crazy. Tim confessed some details about their ‘alternative’ life after- what, a year in you relationship?

You didn’t fully grasp what he meant by their “alter egos” or their nighttime escapades, but you quickly realized you didn’t want to. You had your suspicions, of course. You weren’t blind. But as long as they didn’t outright spell it out for you, you could continue living in blissful ignorance. It was easier that way, and you convinced yourself that you were okay with it.

But today—today was different. Today, things had escalated to an entirely new level.

Tim was screaming at Brian, who was cloaked in that damned creepy hood that made him look so unsettling. Tim's anger seemed to grow by the second, and when “Hoodie” (as you suppose you should call him now) refused to react, it only fueled Tim’s rage.

You tried to calm him down, talk to him or something- anything.

A strained, guttural laugh escaped Tim, trembling with anger. He started explining to you how you do not even begin to understand what has happened, how you should just shut up and not get involved- his voice full with disdain, every sentence designed to belittle and assert his supposed superiority.

Now you are not the one to get angry easily, but this time- this time something in you snapped. You were done being talked down to, done being made feel small or pathetic for just wanting some peace.

“No wonder he would not bother to have your back when you act like such a prick.”

“Oh, just shut up you bit-,” his words faltered as he caught himself mid-sentence, swallowing the insult faster than a politician trying to cover his tracks.

You cannot recreate what was spoken after that word for word, just that all hell broke loose. It was no longer a fight between Tim and Brian- no, it wasn’t just them anymore. It was you and Hoodie against Tim. You were screaming and throwing your every angry complaint you had been holding in for far too long. And Hoodie- Hoodie of all people- was backing your every word, every statement. However, Hoodie’s remark is what really sealed and shipped Tim’s whole spirit.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl so frustrated with her boyfriend in my life, Masky. Can only imagine you’re lacking in some aspects.”

The words hit harder than anything you had said. They were cold, calculated, and aimed straight at the core of Tim’s pride. The room seemed to hold its breath, and for a moment, Tim stood there, trembling with the weight of the accusation. His face twisted in disbelief, but the damage had already been done.

What followed between the two of them was pure madness. Shouting, shoving, items flying off shelves—everything seemed to spin out of control. Pushing, pulling, voices rising higher and higher, until the tension reached a breaking point. Tim’s eyes flickered with something darker, something unstable, before he turned to grab his mask and stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard it shook the walls.

Well, this has happened this morning. You realise you could’ve done things differently, not taking sides or waiting for their fight to end before starting your own. That was your mistake. But leaving you hurt and angry with only Hoodie to comfort you was his.

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You were on all fours on your boyfriends bed, face buried in his pillows. Hoodie’s gloved hand pushed down on your back arching it more- your ass rising higher.

Your clothes were littering the floor from the doorway to the edge of the bed, the cold air tickling your bare skin. Your eyes landed on the wardrobe’s mirror showing your helpless reflection with Hoodie’s tall frame behind you. He was completely dressed from his boots to the black mask that covered his face- he was glacial.

His left hand- formerly on your back- grabbed your hip harshly. He dragged the other painfully slow across your side- from ass, to waist and finally around your breast. You whimpered at the harsh feeling of his gloves palming your tits.

“So sensitive…” he sighed. The nub was hardening against his touch making it easier for him to pinch or gently twist your nipple.

You inhaled sharply trying to steady yourself but being met with Tim’s smell wasn’t helping. “H-Hodie...” you whined.

His hands left your body and you heard his pants zipper opening. You tried to push yourself on your forearms, an instinct to turn around and see what you were dealing with, but before you could make a move a firm grip grabbed at the back of your neck. The sharp tug sent shivers down your spine as Hoodie yanked your head back. With a swift flick of his wrist, he let go of your nape only to have his fingers dart into your hair. His grip was certain and precise. “You’re way to eager to get on another man’s cock.” Your face was shoved once again back into the mattress.

He was watching you excitedly as he brushed his tip across your folds- a groan escaping his lips when he felt how wet you already were. There was something primal about knowing you belonged to someone else yet he got to claim you as his right now.

“Be quiet now,” he instructed sliding his cock inside you. You tried your best, you swore you did but he was so- big. Your eyes rolled upwards and your fingers gripped tightly at the sheets as you tried your best not to scream. His cock pressed deeper and deeper inside your cunt, stretching you in ways you did not even imagine possible. “You moan like a whore,” he growled with a final push. You felt your face blushing in shame- he talked to you in ways you would've never allowed your boyfriend, but on his lips those words felt so natural; almost like praises.

“Shh, shh,” he murmured, the sound gentle but insistent. You were already panting and crying just by the size of him. He gave you a moment to adjust to him being balls deep inside your aching cunt but your whines wouldn’t stop. He leaned over you, the rough material of his clothes scratching your soft skin. His hand reached to the side of your face, you thought he wanted to wipe away the tears that were sliding down your cheeks. He chuckled, his hand covering your mouth instead. “I’m gonna fuck you senseless, sweetheart.”

________________________________

“Fuck, fuck- fuck! Feels so- Agh!~”

You were screaming so fucking loudly. Your head was bumping to the ruthless rhythm of Hoodie’s thrusts. His fingers left red marks all over your ass, your hips- he was tugging at your body merciless, squeezing and scratching every inch of skin he could find.

With trembling hands you tried your best to hold onto the bed frame as Hoodie was rutting into you from behind. His balls were hitting your swollen clit so hard- again and again and- “Am so close- so close, so close!” Jaw was hanging open, you were gasping for air.

“Fucking whore,” Hoodie sighed grabbing your neck with one hand, the other searching for your open mouth. “Bet he never fucked you this good, eh?” He gave a sinister chuckle as he shoved his fingers down your throat. You followed his cruel pull falling back on his torso. He was squeezing at the sides of you neck reminding you how little and vulnerable you are right now, “You only breath right now- scream and cry- you only feel this good because I allow you to.”

You whine taking him even deeper, his cock slaming your walls faster. His fingers explored your mouth pressing down your tongue, his grip thightend.

“I could snap your neck right now, you know?”

You cry out loud in desperation, surrenedring control to him completely. Your eyes shut in anticipation, every muscle in you tightens-

“Say who you really belong to, who fucks you like a bitch in heat,” he snarls. “Say my name.”

And you do. Over and over again you do as your gummy walls squeeze around his length unbearably thight, waves of pleasure wash all over you. Hoodie’s hands allow you to gasp for air just for a second as they move under your arms grabbing you by the shoulders. His sudden body weight pushed you on your belly, fucking you deeper into the matress. His thrusts grow sloppy and desparate with no regard towards you- he was fucking you like a fleshlight.

“I’ll pump you so full of cum, MY cum-” Muffled sounds rose from deep in his chest, you were able to hear his clenched teeth through the sharp breaths he took. “Breed you so good you’ll be ruined- Fuck-” he whimpered. “Ruined for Tim,” his thrusts are brutal and harsh and- so goddamn overwhelming.

His cum shots in hot strings, his member twitching inside your ruined cunt. His hands pull you closer and hips push further trying to get as deep as possible- deeper than Tim at least.

You felt bad for comparing but the way he feels on top of you, in you- he fucked you in ways your boyfriend never could. When you tried to shift he grabbed a fistful of your hair forcing your head back. With lazy motions he started fucking his cum deeper.

“I didn’t tell you you could fucking move yet.”

This is my first fic since, what- 2021? Wow. Crazy.

I'll keep on writing my usual content as well, but creepypastas and gore-y stuff has always been something I wanted to write but never felt confident enough before. Anyways, feel free to request or send me any message, I came back from my hiatus! Never thought I'd say that lol.

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bugflies00 · 5 months ago

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i have so many thoughts about the tommy song/video and theyre a jumbled mess. i wouldnt call this an analysis this is just. most of my thoughts surrounding the video and what it shows about tommy

one of the things that stuck out to me (outside of how depressing and just like. is this guy okay) is something that ive always respected tommy for because he's always stuck with it and its his like. fervent conviction in people doing things theyre passionate about. thats always been one of the things he talks about all the time!!!

when AI started appearing he was talking about death of creativity, with the internet he's always talking about how the real tragedy is the algorithm killing people's passion by driving them with views and money, and even when he talks about youtube itself, and nowadays standup, its so full of passion.

and i think thats really important because it would be extremely easy for someone like tommy, who's in the process of maturing his online image from a very loud, immature and PASSIONATE persona, to make fun of it. it would be so easy to do like so many other creators and laugh at how "cringe" it was and make a quick cash/attention grab with a funny clip of him laughing at himself. but he never has. well don't get me wrong he's laughed at himself or old videos but it's always just. good natured taking the piss out of himself, it's never this like. mocking your younger self who was so excited to do what they did only because now its "cringe".

not only is he constantly giving that advice to other people (its been years of him replying, to any kid in his chat or donations asking advice on how to be a creator etc, "just go and do it if you love it!!"), he's coherent with how he applies it to himself. he realised he was making cash grab tiktok react vids and hated it so much he just stopped uploading for a while.

i dont know i just think there's something admirable about being able to still be sincere in a time where everything especially online has to be processed through a layer of irony. and its even funnier because he's more sincere THROUGH the irony i mean he's literally going into standup.

letting yourself create something that "means" something is fucking hard especially when half the internet still sees you as a kid who screams around. except the thing is that kid DID make stuff that mattered and that meant something because he was, in his own words, having fun.

i think thats what the format of the video was about too. i mean i think it was pretty clearly not a song thats meant to be streamed, its not purely music, its also a video because tommy is also first and foremost an editor who went to film college. its also not a "comedy" song like he's made some before, because those were all intentionally created to land as many jokes and make a big buzz— which doesnt mean they were bad! im philza is a contemporary lyrical masterpiece. but they had a specific purpose and it was to make people laugh and i think this video was completely like. opposite of what peoples expectations are of tommy. the "wow hes not a child anymore hes being mature🤓" reactions are the most obvious aspect of this (which, like, its been a while, get with the program).

i think the point of this was to make something that genuinely meant something but that was also like. as unpalatable to the algorithm and to the TommyInnit Viewer as possible. even now that he's gone into making quieter, more reflective videos, we've never had the flashing texts and the projector images and just all of that. hes always talking about how he hates the way the "youtube formula" has dictated the course of content and stolen all creativity for youtubers. its not meant to be a YouTube Video tm. its just meant to mean something to someone, and obviously process some sort of personal emotions, and i just think thats. yeah. yeah

i mean he even says so outright. "this needless, self indulgent spiral of self gratification" is pretty damn explicit. its not meant to be funny content its really a cry for help or for just. anything at all really

it was also a lot about perception, yknow the "entertainer" dilemma, "its all attention porn"... theres a layer of this point thats universal, everyone struggles with how they're perceived and i think any "artist" or "entertainer" figure can see themselves in it, but there's also a layer thats completely impermeable to most of us because it touches upon the sheer absurdity of a "youtuber". especially one of tommy's popularity. especially one who blew up so so fast so young. i honestly think its IMPOSSIBLE to process that. its about the ethics of having millions of people's time so readily available to you if you just press the right buttons to make the algorithm happy and then you've got them. im like 75% sure i remember him saying this on stream once, something like "your time is valuable" and if a fan didnt value him as an entertainer they should drop him.

and even here^ thats the saddest "lmao" ive seen in my life SORRY LOL but its really just. yeah im not gonna repeat myself it speaks for itself. perception and internet expectations and all that

one of the other images that stuck out to me was also this:

"yeah i know its too much like bo burnham but it wont be in a year though. in a year it will be like tom simons. just let me figure out what that means, ok?"

a lot of the video is about. influences and inspirations. the bo burnham references are so obvious he's poking at them, but i think he's raising a good point about the creativity that he's constantly praising. its never something that springs up on its own, its all about looking at others work and making it your own and feeding yourself with all those experiences and slowly, surely building your own way of doing things (tommyinnit "minecraft talent show" and "a tribute to dream smp" serial quackity + schlatt impersonator would know all about that) ->

and its daunting! its fucking scary to move away from that! which is also the main vibe i got from the video which, outside of his own issues with how he's perceived online, was the sort of existential dread that comes with actually creating. its one thing to preach you need to be passionate and create, its another to sit down and create something thats BY you. its a part of growing up! and we're literally seeing him do it live (well the bits that he chooses to show obviously)! thats also part of why i think tommy's so relatable to so many people is that he's so like. honest and real about what it's like to grow up, simple as that, and growing into yourself.

"this was everything to me" and using the picture of his younger self... man. theres obviously so much sadness underlying the whole thing but i think the nostalgia and melancholy in mourning being someone who was only inspired/excited by your interests and role models is universal. and obviously for tommy a lot of those influences turned out. well i think it was pretty damn clear who/what he was referring to here. ->

i don't think i need to go too in detail about that, especially cause a lot of the video was clearly a way to process his own personal emotions. especially with those next few images. i just hope he's okay and that god doubles his pain and gives it to mr beast to quote my friend bronzetomatoes. man.

of course he had to end with a funny clip about a hot anime girl and i think that kinda. sums it all up in a way. if that makes sense. at the end of the day its about the fact that he has to use humour to make the thing work when its out in the open, even when he tries not to and to be actually honest, but theres also the fact that hes literally a comedian and creating something "honest" IS through humor. its kindof a double edged sword

right well that was my jumbled mess of psychoanalysing tommyinnit i hope he is alright and all that because well that was. something

#tommyinnit #dsmp #mcyt #cc!tommy #alex.rambles.txt

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marie-swriting · 3 months ago

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Need More Fanfics? Part.3

Top Gun

He's All That (Robert "Bob" Floyd x reader) by @withahappyrefrain (Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Untitled (Natasha "Phoenix" Trace x reader) by @callsign-phoenix

Criminal Minds

Oh Baby (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @virescent-v (Minors do not interact as the author wishes!)

Careful (Emily Prentiss x reader) by @i-write-sometimes-maybe

Female Rage (Spencer Reid x Daughter!reader) by @letarasstuff

Stranger Things

Can't You Tell? (Eddie Munson x reader) by @writingdumpster

(It's Not Like) He's My Boyfriend (Steve Harrington x reader) by @luveline

Marvel

Maroon (Kate Bishop x reader) by @lightupthemoon

Cramps On The Couch (Kate Bishop x reader) by @goldenempyrean

The Difference (TASM!Peter Parker x reader) by @frost-queen

Bridgerton

Swim (Anthony Bridgerton x sister!reader) by @ladysharmaa

Part.1 - Part.2

#masterpieces by other creators #top gun one shot #robert floyd x reader #criminal minds one shot #emily prentiss x reader #stranger things one shot #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #marvel oneshot #kate bishop x reader #peter parker x reader #spencer reid x reader #natasha trace x reader #bridgerton oneshot #anthony bridgerton x reader

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strayingawayy · 1 month ago

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i've loved you in scribbles and silences...

...the one where the silent creator meets the effortless muse

{ @jeonginsleftcheek requested a fic w/ reader as popular kid in class and hyunjin as the shy piner. i hope i did this justice, sweetheart 💌 word count: 1900 words approx}

hwang hyunjin was not the kind of guy you could just ignore.

even in his silence, he commanded attention, not in an intentional way, but in the way that made people naturally gravitate toward him. maybe it was his presence, lean and elegant, draped in effortlessly cool outfits that looked straight out of a fashion editorial. or maybe it was the way his sharp, expressive eyes always seemed lost in thought, like he was seeing something beyond the walls of the classroom, like he understood the depth lying in the professor's words in a way none of you ever could.

or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that he looked like a literal prince but behaved like an artist stuck in his own little world, constantly sketching by the window instead of paying attention. not that your professors minded. after all, he was an art major for a reason.

one thing was that hyunjin didn’t talk much in class. he wasn’t unfriendly, but he wasn’t the type to insert himself into conversations either. people knew him, of course. the hot, mysterious art guy. the one who made lazy doodles look like renaissance masterpieces. the one who unintentionally broke hearts just by existing.

and then. well then there was you.

if hyunjin was the quiet presence in the corner, you were the center of attraction.

popular, passionate, hardworking, you weren’t just well-known, but well-loved too. a lethal combo. you had this energy about you, the kind that made people want to be around you, like standing in your orbit made their lives more exciting. balancing academics, extracurriculars, and a good social life, you made it all seem effortless.

and hyunjin?

he had been hopelessly, pathetically in love with you since the first semester.

but like he’d ever say it out loud.

he wasn’t delusional. he knew how different the two of you were. while you thrived under the attention of others, he was perfectly content sitting in the background, watching you shine from afar, his lips curling and eyes crinkling in the corners when you'd crack a joke that would have the entire class rolling over with laughter.

maybe that’s why his sketchbook was filled with you.

your laughter, frozen mid-motion like a memory, because it probably was. your hands, caught in the middle of an animated conversation. your eyes, wide with excitement when you spoke about something you loved. he'd hoped that one day you'd have that look in your eyes if you'd ever talk about him too.

god. he was so gone for you.

and it was getting out of hand.

because lately, his friends (ahem han jisung and lee felix) had started catching on.

"you're ridiculous," jisung had said one evening, watching hyunjin rip yet another drawing out of his sketchbook, crumpling it up. "just tell them."

"or don’t," felix added, flipping through hyunjin’s abandoned sketchbook like it was a diary. "just keep pining like a tragic 19th century ahh poet."

hyunjin groaned, yanking his sketchbook back from his friends. “they’re way out of my league.”

jisung rolled his eyes. "dude. you do know you're one of the hottest guys in college right?"

"careful ji, your bi confusion is on full display," seungmin says, only dropping into the conversation with a one liner before grabbing a donut off the table and leaving a flustered jisung stammering.

"that aside, yeah, if anyone has a chance with them, it's you mate." felix nodded, as if stating a fact, munching on a donut himself.

hyunjin scowled. “that’s not the point. they’re not just like, cool. they’re brilliant. they’re like, fuck,” he waved his hands wildly, searching for the words. “the human embodiment of shooting stars and ambition and-”

"oh my god" jisung clapped his hands dramatically. "he’s waxing poetic now."

felix gasped. "he's down bad. we need to stop him before he bends shakespeare over with his words."

hyunjin groaned, shoving his face into his ink stained hands and immediately regretting it. “i hate you both.”

but unfortu-fucking-nately, they were right.

maybe it was time he did something about it.

...

hyunjin was NOT going to half-ass this.

if he was going to confess, he was going to do it right.

so, naturally, he spent two hours spiraling over what right even meant, another hour staring at pinterest's idea of proposals for no reason, and then another seventeen hours crafting the most romantic, heartfelt, artistic confession ever.

his plan?

a huge, mural sized drawing.

of you.

obviously.

because, in his mind, there was no better way to show his feelings than through art.

the plan was simple:

1. sneak into the art room where you often kept your paintings too.

2. place inside the room, a breathtaking sketch of you.

3. casually bring you there and let the art do the talking.

4. pray you didn’t laugh in his face and pat his shoulder mockingly.

it should have gone smoothly.

but this was hyunjin.

and nothing, nothing, ever went smoothly when it involved his feelings.

...

the moment he finished the drawing, he knew two things:

1. it was the best thing he’d ever drawn in his life.

2. he was going to pass out from nerves.

but whatever. it was done. he just had to get you to see it.

so, the next day, he walked up to you, heart pounding, palms sweaty, already regretting everything, and blurted out:

“hey-wamma-see-something-cool?”

you blinked, mouth half-stuffed with the infamous campus canteen donuts, bottom lip covered in chocolate frosting (it was still one of the most breathtaking things hyunjin had ever seen in his life, he noted) “uh. sure?”

without thinking, he grabbed your wrist when you stood up (oh my god, he grabbed your wrist, what was he thinking, jisung was gonna scream when he told him this) and practically dragged you down the hallway.

"hyunjin, where are we-"

"just trust me," he muttered, swallowing hard, his cheeks already flushing when you spoke his name so tenderly, as if you hadn't dozens of times before in classes and group projects.

when he finally shoved open the door to the art room, he braced himself for the big reveal as he placed his fingers over the cloth covering the canvas.

"i- w-words fail me when i need them most. that's- probably why you don't hear me talk too often. and probably why i'm an art major instead of like- in mass communication or something. pfft can you imagine- anyway. (god he was rambling, he was rambling and you were smiling). just...just see for yourself yeah? please?" he said almost pleading. when you nodded, he inhaled deeply, like he was about to reveal the meaning of life itself ,and pulled the cloth off in one dramatic swoop.

hyunjin froze, his eyes widening.

no.

oh hell no.

staring back at him was a giant, fat, fucking cat drawn messily. big, googly eyes. a grin that was more terrifying than friendly, and nothing remotely close to being romantic. he can't believe a cat doodle was gonna get him rejected.

his entire drawing was gone and in front of him was a fat ass cat one covered by the same cloth he had used.

hyunjin’s soul left his body.

this was not happening.

you stared at the board. then at hyunjin. then at the board again.

“…hyunjin,” you said slowly. "i mean- it's. it's cool as fuck yeah-"

“nononono-there was-” he turned, searching every corner of the room like his drawing might miraculously reappear. “i drew something else. i swear it was romantic. it was you of course it was romantic-”

“-you drew me?“ you asked, a small teasing, curious smile on your face.

he turned back to you, ears burning, palms sweaty. “yes. i mean. yes.”

your teasing expression softened. “so… you were confessing?” you asked, expression almost hopeful.

hyunjin opened his mouth, closed it, then ran a frustrated hand through his short, blonde hair. "this is not how this was supposed to go."

you suddenly glanced to the side, eyes widening. “wait… is that it?”

hyunjin followed your gaze, spinning on his feet, and there it was.

his drawing.

propped against an easel in the corner, untouched, perfect.

the second you saw it, the teasing stopped.

your expression shifted, eyes widening, lips parting slightly, the kind of reaction that made hyunjin feel like time had paused.

because it wasn’t just a drawing of you.

it was you.

the way you laughed, the way you looked when you were deep in thought, the way your eyes shone when you talked about something you loved, it was all there, put into the strokes and shadows and scribbles like a love letter without words.

you didn’t say anything at first. just stared.

hyunjin swallowed hard. “…so.”

slowly, you turned to him, something unreadable in your expression.

"i-" he stammered, his voice cracking. "i just- gods-i wanted to do something... something that was real, something that would... show you how much i..."

his throat tightened. there it was again. the words that refused to come. the weight of his feelings choking him with each failed attempt to articulate it. he couldn't bring himself to say it. his head hung in shame, eyes fixed on the floor, desperate to escape the vulnerability that was threatening to suffocate him.

and you weren’t making it any easier. you were still looking at him with that unreadable expression. he felt like he was unravelling in front of you, a mix of fear and hope and something else twisted in his gut. why were you so quiet?

then, finally, your lips parted.

"hyunjin," you murmured, your voice soft, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "this is... the most beautiful thing anyone's ever done for me."

hyunjin blinked, his breath catching in his throat as he prayed silently.

"really?" he asked, a little too desperately, the hope in his voice clear.

you nodded, stepping forward slowly, and the world felt like it was holding its own breath as you closed the distance between you. hyunjin stood frozen, unsure.

"you really see me," you whispered, your gaze locking with his. "all of me. even the parts i don’t really show...like...the little mole below my lip."

hyunjin’s heart skipped, a new rush of warmth spreading through him as he dared to meet your eyes again. "i do. i see everything. and it’s... perfect. you're perfect."

the words barely left his mouth before you reached up, your hand brushing against his cheek with a softness that was foreign but not unwelcome.

his breath stopped, and for a moment, everything in him screamed to pull away, to shield himself, but all he could do was blink slowly and lean into your touch.

"i’m not good with words either," you whispered, and before he could react, you gently placed your lips against his.

the kiss was tender, the kind that spoke volumes even in its softness. hyunjin’s breath caught as he melted into it, his hand reaching out instinctively to touch your arm, as if afraid you’d vanish the moment he didn’t hold on tight enough. when he realised he needed you closer, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him.

and as you both smiled into the kiss, hyunjin knew that words didn't have to be exchanged further. you understood each other. through brushstrokes and gestures that would take you down the road of life together.

somewhere above the classroom, felix and jisung screamed as they watched it all go down through the cctv camera while the security personnel snored beside them.

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mina-org · 2 months ago

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poppies

❁ Poppy: Oblivion

❁yandere!simon riley x oblivious!reader,

❁mentions of stalking, yandere behaviour, mention of murder

❁ word count: 550

Simon felt like once he entered brambles he had been transported to another planet, wide windows hiding the sweetest petal, crates of plants and buckets of bouquets lined the sage painted bricks. A bell chime and crawling plants brushing against his shoulders welcomes him in. its crowded, dried flower bouquets line the walls, flower arrangements for every occasion and every size available.

Alien, delight, amused, is how simon would describe you after your first encounter, after some time and longing, at first he was frustrated, unable to understand how you had and would continue to survive in this world, he was fresh out a mission from hell and doing particularly bad, but he found himself falling into the flower shop a few times a week, buying plants, asking advice like he was unable to google shit, but google never gave him the same enthusiasm, your devotion to plants was charming and the way you’d praise him for being a good “plant daddy” did warm his heart a little, even though he met you back with a scoff.

You worked behind the counter, entrenched as you wrapped up more flowers for customers, carefully placing poppies for the shop's own flower arrangement, grander than the ones most people ordered, but you were the creator of your own whimsy. Poppies were the flower of the month and they were everywhere, spreading stems curled around nothing and seemingly defied gravity, crawling to the sunlight.

He pondered how long could his presence go unnoticed, he had stayed in your apartment many nights watching over you, each time you were oblivious. Simon was a large, imposing man, people stared and gawked at him, but to you he was just a customer, one that didn't smile back but you said you could tell he was smiling on the other side of the mask or that his eyes gave it away. Simon kept a few pictures of you and Johnny had caught a few glimpses of it before but never pried. Simon considered applying for a job to keep him busy while he was home, he could get paid to stare at a pretty petal for 8 hours, 6 days a week, but he tried putting a bouquet together and it ended with crushed stems and ripped petals, and his colours did not match the way yours do, he also lacked the patience for customers and were a magnet attracting weird ones, you seemingly enthralled men who saw you as a rare ray of sunshine in the polluted city, simon had already gotten rid of a few customers, one who waited for you after a shift or one who tried to be a secret admirer, unluckily for him that detective simon was on the case. Your secret admirer is now sleeping soundly in a marsh.

He wasn’t one for bouquets, so he trotted to the potted plant section and continued to stare, as you continue to create your mini masterpiece, dancing to a bubblegum pop song from the early 2000s, too sweet for simon himself but it was endearing, you were the first person who just was their self, so unabashedly, so unashamed. People looked, customers often commented on your airy fairy nature but you never paid it any mind. Whatever planet you lived on, it seemed nice.

#yandere cod mw #yandere cod #call of duty x reader #call of duty #yandere #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #yandere ghost #yandere ghost x reader #yandere simon riley x reader #yandere simon riley

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bi-disaster-kit-herondale · 1 year ago

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honestly love being in the marauders fandom, there are so many talented creators, especially fic writers. like i read popular fics from another fandom, and it just does not hit as hard as the masterpieces yall create over here. other ppl are getting emotional over stuff, and i don’t even bat an eye bc of the absolute tragedies the marauders have put me thru.

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yan-lorkai · 6 months ago

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I’m not sure if I can request this and I don’t know much about Halloween but I can totally imagine the first year gang starting a little pumpkin farm at Ramshackle. They’d carve pumpkins together and maybe sell some of them to earn a little pocket money

If it’s too much, no worries. just ignore this. Have a great day

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This is such a lovely idea tbh, now i kinda of want to do something like this with my friends aaaa. This was supposed to be posted at 6am as always and i forget to queue it lol. Anyway, enjoy it darling!

The Ramshackle Dorm had never been busier nor more vibrant than now. It all started with a simple idea from Ace: “Hey, why don’t we grow some pumpkins here?” he had said a sunny afternoon, eyes glinting with mischief as gestured to the dead garden of his dorm.

“We can carve them for Halloween, and maybe even sell a few. Easy money, right?” He turned to Epel, who, just as mischievously, nodded.

With a few enthusiastic nods from Jack and Deuce, the plan was set in motion. Soon, even Sebek, who had initially scoffed at the idea as "a frivolous waste of time," found himself secretly invested when Malleus found out and praised him for having a hobby with a bunch of friends.

Days turned into weeks, and the once dead, wild yard of the Ramshackle Dorm was transformed. The first-year gang tilled the soil, planted seeds, and tended to their patch diligently. They took turns watering the sprouts, pulling out weeds, and shooing away curious crows. It was hard work, but there was a certain joy in it.

Jack took special pride in watching the tiny green shoots grow into fat, round pumpkins, while Epel appreciated the physical labor - he said that in that way he could gain muscles. Ace and Deuce made it a game, challenging each other to see who could grow the biggest pumpkin, which led to much bickering and laughter.

The yard was filled with the warm, earthy scent of pumpkins, and the air was filled with laughter. Each carved pumpkin was a reflection of its creator, scattered around the steps and windows of Ramshackle, glowing with flickering candles as the sun dipped below the horizon.

As the pumpkins ripened, the dorm's front yard slowly turned into a sea of orange, each pumpkin unique in size and shape. On one particularly crisp afternoon, as Halloween approached, they gathered around to start carving. Carving tools in hand, they sat in a circle, some humming, others chatting about what designs they’d make.

Ace boasted that he would create the scariest face, while Deuce shyly admitted he wanted to make a pumpkin with a cute smile so he could take a photo and sent it to his mother. Epel’s was, of course, carved with incredible detai l— a miniature masterpiece of intricate patterns, as he was used to carve apples. Jack’s was simple and classic, just like him. And Sebek, determined to outshine the rest, carved an elaborate dragon that he claimed was a tribute to his master, Malleus.

“Not bad, huh?” Ace said, admiring their work. “I mean, I could probably sell mine for way more than any of yours, but still.” He smirked, dodging a playful punch from Deuce.

“We’ll see about that,” You shot back, wiping your hands on your overalls. “Who wouldn’t want to buy one of mine?”

Throughout the day, the first-years ran the stand, chatting with students and selling their carved pumpkins. Sebek was surprisingly the best salesperson, his loud voice catching everyone’s attention and his pride making each pumpkin sound like a royal treasure. Epel made sure every customer left with a smile, slipping them a little extra vine or a perfect pumpkin seed as a token. Even Grim, though not directly involved in the growing process, found himself helping out, lured by the promise of sharing in the profits.

With their pumpkins carved, the group turned to the next phase of their plan. They set up a small stand by the gate, decorating it with the leftover vines and smaller pumpkins. A hand-painted sign read, "Pumpkins for Sale! Buy 1, Get 1 Free (if you can guess who carved it)!" It was Ace’s idea, of course, to add a little game to attract more customers. They were soon joined by curious students from other dorms, many who had heard about the little farm project and wanted to see the fruits (or rather, gourds) of their labor.

You still were surprised that their idea really attracted people. Even Sam was there, examining the pumpkins.

By the end of the evening, the pumpkin patch looked a bit emptier, but your pockets were a little heavier. All of you were tired, but it was the good kind of tired, where your cheeks hurt from smiling and your muscles ache in a satisfying way. As you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle, trapped between Deuce and Ace, watching the last of the daylight fade, there was a warm sense of accomplishment between them.

“This was a good idea,” Jack said, breaking the comfortable silence. “We should do it again next year.”

“Yeah,” Epel said, stretching out his arms. “Maybe we’ll even beat the big guys at their own game. Imagine if this little patch becomes the talk of Halloween.”

"What if other dorms try to do something like this, though?" You asked them.

You had so much fun those past few months, working at their side after clubs ended and the homework was made. You laughed, you chased them when they teamed up to tease you. Overall, it was the most fun you had since coming to this world.

Ace, who was using your left shoulder as a pillow, leaned up so he could see your eyes. "If this happens..." he looked at the other boys before catching your eyes again. "Then we'll crush them, no doubt."

"Figuratively speaking, right?"

Deuce smiled spread through his face as Epel laughed and Sebek and Jack tried to hide their face from you.

"Yeah... Figuratively speaking, of course, Prefect."

The others nodded, their eyes bright with ideas about what to do if the other students tried to do something like that.

As the night settled in, the carved pumpkins flickered warmly, casting playful shadows across the yard. And you felt as if, for just a moment, like you were back home with your small, happy family — gathered around a shared project, their laughter and camaraderie filling the air with something brighter than any candle could provide.

If you were here the next year, then you wanted to do the same thing with them again. And if you aren't... You wanted them to continue that little tradition.

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jhuzen · 6 months ago

Text

the woes of a god [gn/m.reader]

definitely not my comeback piece. just got inspired randomly in the middle of so many things that i have been doing. i deeply apologize ;; 🙇‍♂️. this is just… a really long story that builds on the premise of the last story i posted TvT.

𖦹 big on genshin lore again, with a few interpretations of my own to fill in the gaps and insert the reader, creator reader but not sagau (again like the last story), focuses on post primordial one vs sovereigns, primordial one and second throne war, archon war, and post-cataclysm. features all six archons by their goetic names (the tsaritsa is conveniently not around), neuvillette, mentions of old seven and apep, this leans on a what if scenario, of reader coming down to teyvat before the archon war, reader is a little brutal but that’s okay ;;

The sky has never looked more fake.

Your eyes squint at the light that the world you have crafted bathed in. You had seen the horrific sights that lie beyond the peaceful blue that the skies projected before you.

Though it did little to bother any other living creature that now dwelled on your magnum opus. Your gaze drifts to the new beings, molded with striking differences from one another, their characteristics bound by the land that they were born on.

The day you had awoken was a painful ordeal to go through. The wounds that lodged within your very body is terrifyingly painful. And the very world that you had created and anchored into your body was the only culprit.

For a time, your masterpiece, Teyvat, felt like a malignant tumor that only propagated within your soul, corroding every piece of your self until you are no more. How ironic was it that your most cherished creation among all the other worlds became the very thing that causes you physical harm.

You had slumbered for a long time since then, and had dutifully descended. Your sleep was not only attributed to the pain during its descent, but also to mourn the painful passing of your beloved sovereigns. Your eyes cannot endure the fate they suffered through, and to this day, the guilt tramples over whatever sense of elation that you feel, washed over with the feelings of intense shame.

Their creator was you alone. No one else.

And when an alien being came to hunt them down for a war that lasted decades, you were nowhere to be found.

You were certain that Nibelung knew your gaze was casted on them, that he understood you were stepping away as a form of test, a way to see if he, as well as your seven sovereigns could withstand such a small conundrum such as a foreign descender.

The thought sickens you physically — you could only wonder if you putting your loving faith on them to be your champions in this war was a devastating mistake of yours that they paid for with their lives and dignity. Your mind could barely comprehend the kind of desperation that Nibelung must have felt for him to dive into the deepest depths and use a knowledge not of this world that Teyvat, and to an extent — your body, until now, struggles to recover from.

A sigh escapes your lips.

It was a gnawing ache, like those celestial larvae that crawl into your body, having a grand feast on it.

The day you descended, you had called on the elements that embodied this very world, seeking answers for what had happened when you were in such a deep sleep, entirely clueless of the events, with only a body that aches from the physical wounds it sustained to guide you to the clues about Old Teyvat’s demise and the embarking of its new age.

You had learned that day, that after the devastating defeat of your dragons, it imparted a new life. And now, humans walked the very ground you had crafted for dragons to walk on initially. You have also learned that the tiny vishaps have retreated deep into Teyvat, living under the hopeless depths, making do and surviving in such a decrepit environment.

Coming in contact with them was nothing more than a world full of hurt when you came to the realization that even the vishaps are terrified of your light. It had shattered a piece of you, and have only grieved with nothing but shame and regret.

And even when you left, the despairing echoes of your cries remained beneath as the vishaps’ lullabies as well as the tears that created a pool for them to bathe in.

Your cries that soothed the vishaps became a haunting legend in a certain civilization that had collapsed and fell through the depths. Children cowered at the stories told about the harrowing echoes, and the scholars of that very civilization had recorded your voice as a mere phenomenon, a tale for the insane, a story for bedtime to frighten unruly children.

Much after the grieving that you had succumbed to, you had learned the stinging pain that pierced through your body that keeps persisting to this day was the work of these pillars — you have come to know them as its divine nails, made to heal the lands of Teyvat from the parasitic effects that the forbidden knowledge inflicted when it was used during the wars.

Quite frankly, it did little to heal your body as you feel the way it seems to lodge within your very core, destroying and corrupting pieces of your soul.

Your first journey since your awakening was nothing short of enlightening. You had learned much about the turn of events. Your dragons have suffered enough, with the few alive ones like the Dragon of Verdure incredibly spiteful of the new race that came about.

And you were not clueless about the sharp tone Apep had taken when she first talked to you after your disappearance during the war between it and the seven sovereigns. You understood the bitterness and sheer betrayal that she had felt, knowing that all this would have been prevented had you only decided to lend a hand.

You left Apep’s abode with little pity for yourself and more remorse for not being a proper artisan to your creation.

But as you watched a civilization grow among the vast sands, you also cannot help but disagree with the unsavory words that Apep had described the new life.

Yes, they were small.

But you understood that humanity is not insignificant.

Gods have always fascinated you.

You understood that to some degree, you too, are a god. You understood that way before Teyvat became a project of yours. Your previous creations that were successfully inhabited with the creatures you had given life to worshiped you, and your descent on your visits were always welcomed with celebrations of endless grandeur.

Things were no different once the sovereigns had come to realize that you were the source of their life and the very world they live in right now. And you had also been crowned as Teyvat’s primordial deity.

However, the age of humanity had given birth to two differing types. There were the normal humans — mortal, average in strength, and so easily swayed by their desires and fears alike.

And then there were the immortals. You had come to realize that immortals came in all forms. Some had originally been creatures of the myth, others were mere elemental manifestations, spirits, or humans that were lucky enough to be ordained and strong enough to defy all the odds that an average human can only do.

There were also gods who took the shape of creatures — sea monsters, newer dragons that were striking descendants of the ancient ones.

You understood then, that even immortals, much like mortals, answered to the authority that reigned supreme in your world, someone who is not you.

Glancing up at the sky, your gaze immediately drifts to that floating piece of land, meant to hold the thrones of those revered by the new worldly life.

And just as you were finally understanding the existence of gods lesser than you, the one above who has stolen your very presence of authority declared an all-out brawl across Teyvat, deeming your very masterpiece its playground for needless bloodshed and barbaric warfare.

It declared seven thrones for seven remaining gods that would triumph above all.

And nothing could prepare you for the prize of winning one.

It was an unforgettable feeling — the way your blood ran cold as it presented seven ornaments in unique shapes, each containing a very familiar power that you have cultivated and given yourself.

The prize was the authority of your defeated sovereigns.

Mockery. You thought it was mockery. You thought whatever resides up there knows you were lurking, relearning Teyvat after your forced slumber for survival, and decided to taunt your everlasting grief over your creations by using the very dignity of each dragon sovereign that you had entrusted those authorities to.

And now, it taunts you in such a needlessly cruel way, by desecrating your world once more through an all out war between the very gods they have also created.

It was a jarring era. You took part in aiding the defenseless mortals, taking whoever in the tiny nooks all over the world. You had brought several mortals in your sanctuary in times of desperation while gods have staked their claim by surviving battle after battle.

Tactics were employed by different gods, differing in styles. Some had bargained for it, some willingly gave their throne to a god they deem fit, others who are weaker opted to team up with those that can trample over others, some had forcibly taken what was rightfully theirs, and some had willingly shut themselves off, cowering away in hopes of being left alone so they may protect their people in peace.

You had learned by then that even gods… can succumb to their desires and fears.

It had been long since the great war among gods had concluded.

However you can still feel the bittersweet sensation that pulsed through your veins as you watched all seven take their seats, claim their divine thrones, and hold the vessels for the power stolen from your elemental dragon sovereigns.

You would remember them as they staked their claim over their regions.

Barbatos, Morax, Baal, Rukkhadevata, Egeria, Xbalanque, and previous Tsaritsa.

You recall them well enough — considering that they have managed to unearth the truth of Teyvat’s existence. They came to you, offering themselves for you to indulge at the cost of recognition.

The original seven, eager as they were to meet you, were promptly shut down with a smile on your lips.

“You are not mine to claim, as my blood does not flow through any of yours’ veins.”

Suffering became an easy friend of yours.

You had gone through so much already, and your body as well as Teyvat have yet to heal and recuperate from the effects of the many wars that transpired on this world.

And here comes another one.

However, this time, someone had played the role of Icarus, and had flown way too close to a certain parasite.

It dawned on you as the familiar stinging pain seeped though your very core, breaking you once more little by little, its persistence unmistaken when you first felt it when the very first war erupted in this world.

Someone had unearthed Nibelung’s discovery of the forbidden knowledge and decided to use it.

You remember it vividly — yet another huge devastation that came to Teyvat. However, the catastrophe was marginally bigger compared to the horrid Archon war. And with the discomfort of bearing through that disgustingly painful experience, you had plunged into yet another slumber.

By the time you had awoken, you realized how deeply affected each and everyone was. Many comrades have died, some were affected, and you had come to find out that even the archons had to make some incredibly difficult sacrifices that dealt equally devastating blows to their very being.

You had little to say.

However, you have much to do.

Perhaps it was your guilty conscience that pushed you into this long journey. However, you were not guilty of being asleep while the fallen nation had wreaked havoc with their circumstances. Your guilt lied within the fact that you had never gotten to console your dragon sovereigns when they were defeated by it.

Most of them were dead, others were sealed and unable to reincarnate.

And so this was your way of making it up to them, albeit… with the archons, those who remained, and those who are now stepping up into their new responsibilities as a member of the newly established seven.

You had first visited the cold region of Snezhnaya, paying a visit to their new Cryo Archon, who has been planning something else entirely. She had willingly entertained you, despite the slight edge and tension within her. However you understood that you were limiting her desire to continue on with her plans, and so you were quick to disappear from that very nation.

Barbatos has always held you in a high regard the moment his eyes were opened to your existence. The heavenly principles call you the slumbering sloth, deeming your forced slumber and inactivity to act against the horrors Teyvat has gone through a mistake on your part as a creator.

But he deems it as a slander, and he quietly protests at the image imposed so heavily on him. He adored the freedom you had granted — giving free will to the creatures that now live on your domain, and it was that freedom that had continued to flourish within him, spurring on a belief that he had cultivated since the moment he received his gnosis.

In that tiny piece of divinity, he felt you. Quietly lurking across the lands of Teyvat, minding your own affairs without intent of reconnecting with others.

And when he and his fellow archons sought you for answers, you had little to say. Shutting them down with an indifferent gaze — no, Venti hardly calls it indifferent, the mask sure was indifferent, but there is a sense of agony that seems to seep out from that very mask.

Barbatos sleeps for eons not to gather his bearings, but to feel closer to you.

And now here he finds you in the waking world, gaze overlooking Mondstadt — currently rebuilding the life that was devastated by the cataclysm alone. His wings tuck behind him, respectful as he was as he bowed to you.

“They have it handled, Your Benevolence,” he regards you with a carefree grin on his lips, “…Humans are strong. And that freedom I’ve given them will flourish.”

“You seem so sure of it,” you respond without missing a beat.

“…They are still ignorant of you, and they do not realize that the freedom I embody is how I carry your will,” his voice comes out in a quiet purr, a reverent tone that held nothing but unadulterated adoration and devotion.

Your gaze seems too far — looking at the horizon and Barbatos wants to see what your eyes can see in this world. What perspective you have, what you think of the new Teyvat and what you think of him, carrying out your principles through his own beliefs.

“…Let us hope it is not a mistake,” you mumble, your fingers gently caressing those pristine white wings of his, and Barbatos relishes in the feeling.

He held back a wince as he felt a sharp sting from when you plucked a feather from his wing.

Barbatos had one thing to say.

“If it is your will, then it shall be done.”

You had doubts with that. You had your will — and it was done. And where did that lead you? Facing a god bearing the face of a creature that now replaced your creations.

You sucked in a sharp breath before smiling, a shallow gesture as you tucked in Barbatos’ pure white feather behind your ear.

“Mm… it shall be done,” you repeat, and a gentle breeze brushes past you. A tiny whisper and a loving kiss from the archon himself.

You accept it with a quiet hum.

Morax had more questions than the blatant adoration that Barbatos held for you. He first came to you apprehensive and tense, but you knew that he understood that he had to be around in order to get the answers he desired. He came to you with the arrogance and bravado befitting of a god.

How pathetic was it that he looked more like a god than you will ever be. But when he did, you were in a fit of deep sorrow when the heavenly principles made a mockery of your sovereigns and had given it to these new gods that prevailed mostly through bloodshed and sheer force.

He questioned your methods, Morax understood so little about your motives, about your life, about your method of creation. However arrogant and mighty as he was, he held deep respect for you still, you were the creator of the dragons that inspired him to mold his likeness into the same sort when he presented his Exuvia during his descent in Liyue.

And yet you still managed to devastate him as you first rejected him along with the first seven. Unlike Barbatos who saw agony, Morax felt the indignant resentment that enveloped your divine being, and it rubbed him the wrong way.

Morax was quick to straighten himself up, and was eager to wisen himself.

Right, he was taught to understand others.

Your legacy was infamous for losing against the heavenly principles’ divine intervention, that your sordid draconic creations were no match for the primordial one and its shades. That your era was replaced within a battle that only lasted for a few decades. And as you sat at the edge of the tall mountains that he had shaped, gracefully indulging in the tea ways away from Chenyu Vale, he could only bask in your divinity as he stood behind you, keeping a watchful gaze of your very being.

You still had that alluring glimmer that he saw when he first came to you.

An uneasy feeling grasps onto his very being. Perhaps it was the lingering trauma of being rejected by you initially that even served his cautious display now.

“…You’ve done well,” you murmur quietly. A simple, quiet praise, and Morax’s knees nearly buckled at the sheer weight. Of all the times he had been on the battlefield, none could outweigh the suffocating feeling that you suddenly imparted to him.

He feels the weight of expectations while your gaze swept over Liyue’s entirety. And Morax invites it wholeheartedly. His body gives into the sudden pressure that weighed him down, prompting him to go down on one knee, head bowed with a reverent expression.

Morax adores you so much.

“I have taken great inspiration from your creations, Your Benevolence. I have crafted them with you in mind, with how you may envision my nation to its way to prosperity.” His voice sounds like a whisper compared to your melodious echo. “It pleases me greatly to be praised by you.”

Your eyes flit to the countless mountains that were not there before. No doubt they have been shaped with the aid of Morax’s newfound authority over the land with his won authority over Geo.

“As an artisan, I must say, you have truly outdone yourself,” you quietly muse, resting the teacup between your thighs. “You have the talent, I would be remiss to not take you in and teach you few of my personal techniques.”

Morax’s breath hitched, his lips tremble, making his way towards you, half-crawling like a pest that now will surely refuse to leave your side. He had done well in his mind — redeemed himself from the foolish arrogance he once had that might have caused your blatant rejection of his being at first. But now, you were willing to let him learn from you, and that was a step far bigger than any god could have ever made.

“…Please,” he mumbled, his fingers digging into the dirt as desperation floods his mind wave after wave. “Please… please, Your Benevolence. Impart your knowledge to me. I will forever be grateful.”

Nothing could prepare him from your quiet laughter, amused by his devotion.

He is quiet, sucking in a sharp breath as he heaved a quiet sigh of sheer pleasure and relief. A genuine desire blossoms through his chest, flourishing and spreading like an illness that cannot be remedied with something remotely as simple as a handful of ground up adeptal herbs.

It took you one look to understand… that you ought not to shatter his genuine bliss. That you ought to not tell him you merely laughed in memory of the dragon who once possessed the authority that now Morax holds.

Beelzebul has always been off with you. She did not know how to feel. Adoration and the imminent desire to devote her life to you was not the first thing she had felt. Perhaps her twin sister did, Baal always did have a sense of innate fanaticism that even as her identical twin, Beelzebul could not understand.

Though she understood that when she saw Baal so utterly heartbroken after speaking so highly of you that she felt enraged. Her sister had rightfully earned her throne in the heavens, to receive that Electro Gnosis, it was hers to have with no room for argument. She had won the favor of the higher power, so why… pray tell… have you rejected someone as strong as her?

She thought you were blind to the notion of strength. She thought you were a fool — to not have seen the grace of power that Baal, that Makoto, had in her hands. For you to refuse the adoration her twin sister felt was nothing short of an insult to Beelzebul. And for a long time, she had intent to make you recognize Baal.

And then the catastrophe comes and long gone were her desires to turn your gaze towards her sister.

Traumatized, Beelzebul had little to say as she lamented over Baal’s death on that horrid war. The war that combed through Teyvat, claiming the lives of not only powerless and helpless mortals but gods like Baal fell.

On that one moment, Beelzebul casted aside her resentment, and begged for you to see just what her sister was willing to do to protect your creation. To witness the pain Baal had to go through despite her inability to curry your favor.

How ironic was it, that now, overcome with immense grief and desire to achieve the eternity Beelzebul wanted for her people, that you decided to come.

The puppet hung still, lifeless and incomplete from the waist down. Beelzebul stood by, and an odd sentiment of understanding for Baal’s fascination and love for you washes over her, as if Beelzebul was programmed to love you in an instant. Her watchful gaze never left you as you walked around, analysing the puppet Beelzebul was in the middle of creating.

Your gaze — one that Baal had longed to have — was directed at Beelzebul now.

“Your desire to reach eternity… is this puppet the answer?” You ask, “Free from erosion, everlasting puppet, made to run your territory to a perfected pace.”

Beelzebul’s footsteps echo as she closed the distance between you and her inch by inch. She becomes minutely aware of your divinity. It was like no other. It provokes the inner sanctums of Beelzebul’s physical being.

Beelzebul wants to cry.

And she wants you to hold her.

You took note of how she stepped back, before responding to you, regarding you respectfully, “…Yes, Your Benevolence.” Her eyes flit to the features of the puppet. He is hardly molded to her likeness, but it shows, beautiful and everlasting. “An eternity does not succumb to the rotting scent of gradual decay. He is a mere prototype, a test of what shall be my true creation.”

“Pity that is,” you quietly murmur. “He would have been a precious one,” you gently cupped his cheeks around your hands.

Beelzebul watched with confusion and interest as your lips press against the puppet’s forehead.

“Blessed be thy path. Return to me and you will be recognized.”

You walked towards her, the ends of your robes fluttering behind you. Her breath hitches at the feeling of your hand over her sternum, “…And may you return to me, should your pursuit come into a halt.”

It felt like a challenge, but Beelzebul does not miss her desire for it to be a mere comfort from a god who is clearly far greater than she will ever be. Undeterred, Beelzebul turns to the puppet and resigns herself into yet another long period of endless work.

There will be eternity. And at the heart of that very eternity will solely be you and her.

Buer knew the day she was born that she had huge shoes to fill in. Her predecessor was a great one, and their domain altogether was far bigger than one could imagine. Sumeru had a tall order and young little Buer had to fulfill it all on her own.

She was born into succeeding Rukkhadevata’s greatest feats, already pushed into the limelight to take over and take action over the nation that her predecessor had managed to cultivate with her compassion and wisdom. Buer was intimidated, she had enough sense to admit and accept such a fact. Buer admired her predecessor, and will continue to do so, loving her endlessly and singing praises about the hard work that Rukkhadevata had put into establishing the rule of Sumeru.

Hence, Buer finds it so difficult to find her footing. Everything she does feels so little in comparison to her predecessor’s achievements, and it was not long before a part of that adoration turns into a quiet hum of deep insecurity, seeding into Buer’s heart that forced her into a never ending cycle of pressure and admiration.

“You have so much on your mind, little one.”

Her mind clears, and she stares up into you. You — the one adored by many, and one that Buer was certain Rukkhadevata had also adored and held in such a high pedestal and rightfully so. Buer wonders how you are able to withstand the crushing weight of pressure that you probably feel on your shoulders as you carried the very fate of this world that was secured and anchored well into your body.

“Your predecessor was the same,” you continue while your fingers slowly cross strands of her hair over the other, neatly plaided. “I watched her scramble around, trying to clean up the messes that her fellow god kings have caused. I watched her get smaller and smaller, sacrificing every part of herself into clearing out catastrophes one after the other.”

Buer agrees without a word. Perhaps not even a god like you is immune to just how truly amazing the original Dendro Archon was as you sang her praises.

“The world is ill, little Buer,” you mention as you gracefully tied her hair to the side. “And when Teyvat is ill, I too suffer the same painful fate.”

No person could understand the paradoxical nature of the feelings that slowly invited itself into Buer’s heart.

She feels light from your encouragement and yet feels utterly crushed at the weight of expectations that you have placed on her, whether or not it was your intention.

Buer feels smothered by it all, and it feels so damning, so terribly incapacitating that it pains her. But Buer loves you. You came to guide her like a parent would to a child when Rukkhadevata had given her the stage to guide a region far bigger than any other archon’s claim.

“I know, Your Benevolence…” she quietly murmured.

Buer’s eyes opened, and the green tint of this prison she was in knocks her out of her daydream. Her palm presses flat against the barrier. A wave of loneliness comes over her being, and it hurts. It had only been a year or two since you came and since her capture, but she had never felt so alone in a solitary prison that Rukkhadevata once used for her own benefit now being used against her own successor.

Where are you? Are you coming back? Are you sending a champion to rescue her? How long will she stay here? A century? Five? A millennium?

Buer prays to you. She asks for an answer. An answer that you alone can possess.

The God of Wisdom seeks your knowledge in desperation, hoping you do not turn a blind eye.

From her prison of isolation, Buer could only hear the last words you have said to her;

“Happy birthday, Little Buer…”

Focalors much like the others in the same state as her had rightfully succeeded the throne of the original archons that now perished in that catastrophic event. Focalors was a mere oceanid, following after Egeria’s will as the late Hydro Archon was led into a battle that she would no longer return from. And now, Egeria’s corpse lays within the deserts of Sumeru, where the late Dendro Archon had buried and cultivated her corpse into a tree that will always be a good distance away from the very nation Egeria ruled over.

Focalors feels injustice against her predecessor now that she has shouldered the prophetic curse that the heavenly principles have decided to rule against Egeria for her sin. Her sin. Focalors’ eyebrows furrowed — was it so bad that the late archon created life? That she had desired to create humans the same way that it had done. She recalled the day Egeria was blessed with the wisdom of your existence.

A sole artisan, you, had created this world. And another one came to give birth to a new realm inhabited by humans. You were not their creator, but from your inaction, it was clear you had accepted, or at the very least tolerated humanity that now thrives on the world you have created. Egeria holds a different opinion compared to the other archons. She thought it was fair that you had rejected them initially, in a way it was your justice to refuse associating yourself with the creatures that replaced your original creations.

Hypocrites, the one that they answer to are all hypocrites.

And the feelings further exacerbate as she feels your hand press against her back. Her shoulders squared as you danced with her, a faint melody from your quiet hum was the only rhythmic guide to this romantic tango of two lonely gods.

There is a sense of longing that stews within the waters of Teyvat, Egeria once told Focalors upon receiving the Hydro Gnosis. And now that she is in close proximity with you, the feeling was overwhelmingly palpable. Her chest hurts as it tightened with every step she took, following after your flawless footwork.

This was a tragedy in the making and Focalors was eagerly participating in it.

“Does it hurt?” She asks you, adoring the serenity etched into your face as a defaulted expression. “To have your name sullied by the injustice inflicted by the winners? That no human speaks your name and sings your praises?”

You flawlessly spin her away until she comes back in your grasp, “I am in agony,” you admit with a haunting smile, mirthless and still so beautiful, “Even more as I am reliving him through you.”

The pace picks up and Focalors hurries, having little time to catch her breath as she feels an unsettling pull wash over her. There was a desire to please you, as if your request cannot be denied outright. Maybe it was the world asking her to do your bidding, or maybe Egeria had programmed this into her very core when she was created as a mere Oceanid familiar.

Before she was even aware, the humming comes to a close and Focalors was bowing like you to an audience of nothing but the endless sea and the creatures that lurked beneath it.

You tilt your head to the side, “I hope I have relayed my feelings well enough to you.” You smile at her and Focalors’ grip on your hand tightens significantly.

You don’t say it, but she feels it. She has the authority of the everlasting waters — your tears, your agony, your pain. And it drowns her further and further until it suffocates her and dissolves her being, much like the dreaded prophecy she was tasked to solve by her predecessor.

Give it back. Give him back.

He was never gone. Focalors had not met him, but she knew of his existence. She knows what you want.

Focalors was blessed with great intelligence, and knew how to kill two birds with one stone. She had thought about it. She could solve the prophecy and fulfill your wish.

Focalors was a romantic as much as she had a flair for the dramatic. She loved humanity above all but perhaps her love for you exceeds that even just for a generous millimeter.

A quiet sigh escapes her lips.

“Applaud me for my performance once it ends, Your Benevolence.” She requested in a quiet voice, and she pities herself for feeling immense satisfaction from a mere wordless nod from you.

For you, who had accepted the humanity that Focalors loves, the archon would do the same. She would accept your selfish wish and make it come true, indulge in your quiet favor, be the one you will forever love and adore even in her death.

Haborym has heard of the tales of the great one. How the very world was shaped by your divine hands, like a sculptor carving out the features of your next masterpiece. But that was only after the First Pyro Archon had gained control over the Pyro Gnosis roughly a thousand and five hundred years ago, one that uncovered the existence of a will greater than the ones that ruled over them from above.

However, most of the people of Natlan remain blissfully unaware of one of the many secrets that the lineage of Pyro Archons have known by their succession to the heavenly throne.

They were unaware of Xbalanque’s great failure in gaining your favor. The failure of the first Pyro Archon that assumed the throne. And the next archons in line that failed after it.

It was much like the pilgrimage, once an archon, not only are they tasked to care for Natlan’s delicate situation against the Abyss, their people, but also they must try again to gain your favor. It was like a tradition, an obligation even — passed down from one archon to another, seeing how they can succeed in what Xbalanque, as great as he was, completely failed at.

Perhaps you were exasperated by the constant badgering for the Pyro Archons that came before Haborym, because somehow, before she could even get to you, you had appeared before her during the havoc that Khaenri’ah’s incident has wreaked upon your lands. You came to her while she finished wringing out every bit of life of any Rifthound that threatened the lives of her people.

She had exerted much of her energy, and though she had enough energy still for more confrontations along with the revered heroes of Natlan, you had come to aid her even for a second. She felt your cooling touch that soothed any aches that rooted deep within her from the abyssal creature’s devastating attacks. She is mostly certain that any normal person would crumble into dust if they even were swiped at by one measly claw of these things.

Regardless, that was the first time you and her had met. Haborym barely registered the truth in your identity before you swiftly disappeared.

And now confusion only grows more evident in her core as she watched you, sat atop the tallest valleys in Natlan’s many plateaus. You sat, cross-legged as you watched the nation slowly recover from its terribly huge loss. You seemed lax, for someone having witnessed the lands of your creation nearly succumb to the abyss. But you were hardly fazed, with your face resting on the palm of your hand.

“…I must extend my apologies.” You finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Haborym feels a sense of camaraderie, and oddly enough, it prompts her to sit beside you. Her fellow archons — whether within Natlan or among the other nations — have always placed you on such a high pedestal. However perhaps it was because Haborym was a human before she was… well, Haborym.

But the humanity that dwelled within her thrives and connects with what she can perceive as a small island of humanity within the seas of your divinity. It was small, but it was irrational, loving, and resentful, all emotions hardly any gods, much less a higher being like you should never be bothered with.

Haborym takes a deep breath before nodding, “I accept your apology.”

She thinks she’s doing better than the preceding Pyro Archons when she heard your laughter. Somehow, Teyvat grew a little brighter upon that single moment.

“I believe I have a hand in the failure of Natlan. The reason why your nation has suffered far more devastating blows was because of the weak constitution of the leylines,” you explained, and it was not news to her. It had been the consistent problem that hung over the heads of the previous Pyro Archons, and now hers.

Haborym nods. She doesn’t ask the question of why, and patiently waits for what else you have to say.

“I am certain you don’t need any explanation, however… I created this place without factoring in the possibility of your kind’s creation. Had I known, your lands would not have been the backdoor for the darkness that threatens to consume the lives of your people.”

You smiled a little, throwing a glance at Haborym, “…You must understand, I am a creator in belief that all good things must become bad… and all bad things must become good. I believe in the equilibrium of the worlds — that all must learn the essence of balance. It is why Teyvat is my masterpiece, because it encapsulates my belief.”

“Creation must face destruction, and destruction must birth creation. That is the essence of my samsara.”

Your words felt like a hint, and Haborym’s eyes dart towards the heart of Natlan, where the Sacred Flame burns bright and hot.

And Haborym was taught from a young age that a true god’s wisdom is never something to overlook.

You had to applaud the collective effort of everyone in Teyvat. Five hundred years later and it keeps thriving from the devastating cataclysm. And now you have met a fitting champion to wield your will. Though they only wished to see their sibling.

The Heavenly Principles finally did something right in setting the stage as your challenger.

Your gaze drifts from the piece of land in the unreachable parts of the sky, down to the tea that you were wonderfully having with the bearer of your tears.

Focalors was right — her performance was unbearably long, however intensely impressive. You had honored her sacrifice with a permanent seat in the dining table of your private sanctuary nestled within the dark seas of Teyvat, where only the seats were personally crafted by you and were only enough to fit the humongous forms of the dragons that once ruled over your world.

She, among the other divinities that were not of your creation, was the first to earn your respect and genuine love.

“Is the tea to your liking?”

You still find yourself looking up on instinct just to meet the sharp gaze of the Hydro Sovereign, only to look back down to see a human being as his incarnation. Though his piercing gaze was certainly not lost on you.

“Hot enough,” you mumbled, “Bitter enough,” you added, recalling the tastes of one divine puppet that found his way back to you through your golden champion and little Buer’s rehabilitation.

Neuvillette quietly basked in the grace of your being. You had not changed one bit. He had recalled your presence when you first met him within the little tunnel on the side of Palais Mermonia during his break, and after Focalors’ final act, he was consumed with memories of you when you first descended in Teyvat.

As the bearer of your tears, he was your sole confidant, something even his fellow sovereigns envied him for all those years ago.

“…I have many questions,” he prompted the conversation, refusing this first meet to be mere session of stewing in silence and basking in each other’s presence. It was clear how dear he was to you, but his memories that eluded him suddenly came crashing down certainly gave him a terrifying and confusing time.

You had nowhere to be, and the traveler was busy with their affairs and many other adventures.

“We have all the time now,” you chuckle, watching the tiny whirlpool in your tea after stirring in a pinch of sugar. “After all, reunions are meant to be focused on reconciling with one another, like two old friends who have lost touch for… thousands of years perhaps.”

“Though I understand my… old life… was subjected into being your confidant for eons to come, I must exercise my impartiality to you.”

You laughed, amused at Neuvillette’s words. Though you respect him as a friend, nodding along. A creation could never judge a creator — it is what many among your fellow artisans have believed. But you have seen when worlds have rallied against their creator, and some have managed to kill theirs for justice or desperation.

You once walked the world of a now deceased colleague, who created a world filled with oppression, where the waters do not flow, and the pantheon of that very world have sought to fight the very god that created them in the first place.

Cruel as it was, you relished in bathing in that artisan’s never ending tears, flowing from their closed eyes as their decapitated head became the new mountain that births fresh water to their creation.

Nevertheless, for hours, you were subjected into endless questions, interrogated from left to right by the Hydro Sovereign that wanted answers more than anything. You had the key and had willingly opened the chest to him, absolving him of the troubles that might have weighed down on him once he received the Hydro Authority that was rightfully his when Focalors killed herself before his eyes.

The questioning only boils down to two questions left. Significant enough for Neuvillette to base his new opinion of you.

However you only had one proper answer for one of them.

“…Do you detest the Heavenly Father for his actions against the new order?”

You had thought long and hard about it. You wandered Teyvat for years to understand what you felt about it.

And you had the proper answer for it.

“Nibelung did what he had to do,” your eyes glazed over, and Neuvillette follows your gaze. Before he could think you were being disingenuous, you focused your attention back to him, gazing firmly into his eyes. “I had thought I felt injustice and resentment for his… foolish actions.”

You picked up the teacup, savoring the bitterness that the liquid offered.

“However I came to realize that he was desperate enough to seek the forbidden knowledge. Only then was I consumed with guilt. I mourned him and you and your brethren. Apep despised me when I visited her in the desert of Sumeru.” You recounted with a quiet hum. “I know not of what happened to the others, but I understand that my inaction may have forced his hand.”

“I feel guilt and I will prostrate myself as an apology before you if you so wish,” you offered.

Neuvillette thinks it was a coincidence when he felt the same. Him and his fellow sovereigns could have defended the world you had generously gifted them before. But a terrifying thought comes to his mind that perhaps his role as the Hydro Sovereign had him tethered to you even in his own emotions.

It was his new crisis — whether or not he truly feels guilt or if he merely shares it with how well connected he is to you.

“Please do not subject yourself in such a disgrace. You are my creator.”

“And my creations have been neglected until their death,” you countered with ease and Neuvillette doesn’t know if it was his programmed reverence that stops him from contesting you or that he also feels that your words ring true.

You stood up from your seat, walking over to him, and he basks in your presence yet again, nearly losing himself like how Fontainians before he had forgiven them dissolved within the Primordial Sea.

You pulled him in a gentle embrace, his stiff posture leaning awkwardly against your midsection as he sat still.

Neuvillette could hardly pull himself together. Your affection feels forced, an obligation that had to be done to console him, and further puzzles him if you shared his emotions or if you truly felt bad for the guilt that he claims he feels.

“…Then, if it is guilt that you feel. Do you resent humanity for flourishing in a world that does not have an allowance for their existence?”

That one, you had no answer for.

Humanity is so beautiful, but you had come to learn that you were merely tolerating them.

Neuvillette feels himself stiffen as your warm body grows cold in this one-sided embrace.

He may be the one responsible for judging the archons and the heavenly principles that had done you wrong.

But he was never the one to call the shots when judging the fate of this world.

After all, an artist can orphan their work once displeased.

Neuvillette just got you back. And he is certain that though the archons were tied within the Heavenly Principles, they desired your presence more than the ones they were expected to answer to.

You had graced him with a subtle kiss on his forehead, loving and forgiving.

“Focalors had you convinced that humanity was worth it,” you mutter, “So it must be true that they have something to offer.”

He looks up to see a small smile on your face.

Empty. Haunting. Grim.

“…If one dead god can convince you, how many do you think would it take to convince me?”

And just like the sky, your benevolence has never looked more fake.

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mirai-e-jump · 6 months ago

Text

Uchusen Vol.186 (Autumn 2024) Kamen Rider Gavv | Detail of Heroes ft. Main Cast Interviews (other pages and translations below)

Publication: October 1, 2024 (between episode 5-6)

Chinen Hidekazu (Shouma)

"Which shows from the Kamen Rider series have you seen?"

Chinen: From my generation, I watched "Kamen Rider W," "OOO," "Fourze," and "Wizard." I've been watching "Kamen Rider Zero-One," a masterpiece by Director Sugihara, who also directed the pilot of Gavv, and recently I watched "Kamen Rider Den-O" for the sake of studying.

"Who would your all time favorite Rider be?"

Chinen: Including OOO, I like alot of them, but lately I've been particularly fond of Den-O. It was really amazing to see each of the Imagin's personalities being performed by Satoh Takeru-san, the lead actor. The theme song is good too. I listen to the OP every episode without skipping it.

"Please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Chinen: We were put into pairs, one would play a role reminiscent of the food lover Shouma, and the other played a cool role similar to Hanto. During the first audition, I made a mistake. When I was supposed to do a performance where I entered the room from outside, I mistook the door for an outward opening one instead of an inward one, so I kept trying to pull it when I should've been pushing, and it ended up making alot of noise. I also heard the Producers laughing because I was having trouble getting in, but when I finally did, I continued the performance as if nothing had happened. Thinking about it now……I guess maybe that feeling of disconnect was also linked to Shouma's.

"We're sure you must've been quite flustered at that time"

Chinen: I was really flustered because of that (laughs). I was panicking quite abit because it wasn't an act, I really made a mistake. Still, I thought, "I've come this far, so let's do this!," so it might've been a good thing that I was able to accept it and give an earnest performance.

"How were you informed that you had been chosen?

Chinen: One day, my manager called me and said, "I need you to come to the office after work." I went to the office thinking, "Maybe they're upset at me for failing something?," but they said, "We have a report. We're disappointed to tell you that the final audition for Kamen Rider is no longer available." I was frustrated because I thought I had been rejected, but I still said, "I understand, I'll do my best next time." At that exact moment, the staff came through the door and shot off party poppers. That's when I asked my manager, "This isn't a dream, is it?" I pinched myself just to be sure (laughs). Even though it hurt, I couldn't believe it, and when I finally became aware of it, I felt like, "I'm the happiest guy in the world right now!"

"How did you inform your family?"

Chinen: I immediately called my mother about it. She said, "Hide, will you be okay with having the lead role?" Ever since I was little, I always said I wanted to one day play the main character in Kamen Rider. Both my mother and father supported this dream and saw me off to Tokyo. However, I really didn't think it would come true, and I think I was more worried about whether I'd be able to play the main character in such a big title before I was happy.

"Please tell us your impressions when you learned that Gavv was a Kamen Rider with a sweets motif."

Chinen: I received the proposal at the same time I was chosen to play the lead role, so that was the first time I learned about it. My first thoughts were, "A sweets Kamen Rider?" and "What will the gummies be like?" I didn't immediately understand the concept. It was the same kind of impact I felt when I first saw the orange and armor motif of "Kamen Rider Gaim." Still, when I read the proposal, it was very original and interesting. I could really feel the passion of the creators in wanting to create such a hero needed in the era we live in. I thought, "I want to be that kind of hero, and I also want to do my best!" I was impressed by the way the Rider's design incorporated gummies and potato chips, and I thought, "The person who thought this up is a genius."

"What's your absolute favorite form?"

Chinen: As of right now, it's Zakuzaku Chips. I'm a big fan of dual wielding swords, as I often use dual wielding characters in games. Also, I like the jagged potato chips on its eyes. From a distance, doesn't it look like Kamen Rider OOO? I like that about it too.

"Due to the complicated background of the character, we feel that Shouma, who you're playing, requires difficult performances. What kind of orders did the Director give you?"

Chinen: Director Sugihara said, "While he is a young man, I want him to retain a part of his innocence," and that, "He's friendly, but there seems to be a wall between his heart." He said, "He has a bright side and a dark side that he doesn't show others. I hope you can show us how well you can switch between those two personalities."

"Shouma's upbringing is one thing, but it's also cruel that the enemies he's fighting against are his family."

Chinen: Yeah, I personally think it's so cruel, that I pity Shouma. It's a harsh story for a show that's meant for small children to watch. I personally feel like it's mentally draining to play the role of blood related brothers fighting against each other as enemies. What's more, there's no escape from that fate. However, while the story and Shouma's circumstances are hard, the eating of sweets and poppin scenes help soften the situation. The gap between those scenes gives more depth to the hard story. I also try to be conscious of this when I act differently.

"It seems to strike a good balance between the poppin imagery and the hard content."

Chinen: Some fans predicted, "Is it going to be a show like Gaim?," when they saw the official announcement before the show aired. Kamen Rider productions that start out appealing to the "pop" part tend to have harsher developments (laughs). I myself don't want it to be too serious, so through trial and error, I'm still trying to figure out how to make the "pop" in Gavv stand out.

"The role sounds like a pretty high hurdle to clear."

Chinen: Still, I think it was the same for my seniors who performed in previous Riders. I believe that it's Kamen Riders who overcome their troubles, conflicts, and ordeals.

"How was filming for the transformation pose?"

Chinen: The pose was decided on three or four days before we started filming. We agreed on it through discussions among myself, Action Director Fujita-san, and Director Sugihara. In the first episode, there was no proper pose, as the transformation was done during a pinch, so the pose wasn't done until episode 2, but the transformation scene in the first episode was also very cool. Shouma's body slowly changes, and at the end, we get a closeup of his face and Gavv's mask, but he doesn't change all at once, leaving the eyes unchanged. It was very cool, and I was trembling by the way they showed the expression in my eyes until the very end! This is a special version that's only found in the first episode, so I hope you'll watch it again.

"We think that there'll also be action scenes before the transformation, but what about you?"

Chinen: The action is alot of fun……that being said though, I struggle with it quite abit. Action isn't just about being good at punching and kicking. I have to make the action visually appealing. Despite all that, I of course have to put my feelings into it. Fujita-san was by my side the whole time, and Gavv's Suit Actor Nawata Yuya-san was also always near the cameras, and he was very helpful and gave me advice like, "You did it this way before, but why don't you try it this way?" Also, I practice kyokushin karate, so that might be why I was praised for my kicks. So, when it came to direction, we also had an increase in kicking scenes. Over the next year, I'd like to improve my action skills more.

"How was post recording?"

Chinen: It was my first time, so it was much more difficult than filming. Director Sugihara spent alot of time with me for episodes 1 and 2 in particular, since they're the ones the viewers would see for the first time. After that, Director Sugihara gave me some advice. Shouts like "Hah!" and "Tah!" tend to become monotonous as it goes on, so he said, "I want to see some variation." He recommended the game "Street Fighter" as a good reference. I wrote down the shouts I thought were good in a memo and did them my own way. Naturally, I also referred to the shouts of my senior Riders.

"What's been your most passionate scene so far?"

Chinen: It would have to be the transformation scene in the first episode. Until then, the wind had been blowing so strongly, that it was like a cloud of dust, but it stopped right as it came time to do my performance. Thanks to this, we were able to shoot the cut where the wind makes Shouma's hair rise up and reveals his eyes. I also talked with Director Sugihara about it, saying, "It's a scene where the wind was on our side."

"How's the teamwork with your costars, Hino Yusuke-san and Miyabe Nozomi-san?"

Chinen: Both of them are usually friendly, but when they get in front of the cameras, they quickly switch into their roles. They're the type of people who can clearly switch on and off. Not just for Shouma, they're also my own reassuring friends.

"We were told that among the three of you, Chinen-san's plays the role of the funny guy, while Hino-san's the straight man."

Chinen: Sometimes I'll derail the conversation or make bombshell statements (laughs). Each time, Hino-san puts us back on the right track. Miyabe-san watches from a slightly removed position, but will sometimes react.

"By the way, Chinen-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Chinen: It's gummies, naturally! However, since I'm from Okinawa, I'd also like to promote "chinsukou" and "sata andagi" (laughs).

"We'd also love to see those two appear as Gochizou."

Chinen: Will they appear?! It seems like they'd be limited to Okinawa. Of course, I'd be happy if they come out, but for now I'll just hope for it within my heart.

"Finally, please give a message directed to all the fans of Gavv."

Chinen: The story of Kamen Rider Gavv began with a young man coming from another world to the human world. I hope that you'll pay attention to how Shouma meets unique friends in the human world and grows. Especially the bond he has with his mother, family bonds is one of the themes, so if possible, I'd like you to watch it with your loved ones. If you watch it, you'll definitely want to show your love and respect to your parents. I'd like to make this a show that you can support throughout the year. I hope you'll pay attention to and enjoy the activities of not only our cast, but also the Gochizou. I look forward to your support throughout the next year!

Hino Yusuke (Hanto)

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Hino: I have an older brother, so we had alot of transformation belts from "Kamen Rider Kuuga" and other early Heisei series at home. In terms of my generation though, it would've been "Kamen Rider Den-O." After that, I watched "Kamen Rider Kiva" and "Kamen Rider Decade."

"Who's your all time favorite Rider?"

Hino: I watched it with enthusiasm, so it'd have to be Den-O. When I was in elementary school, I commuted to school by train and was once stopped by a station attendant when I tried to walk through the ticket gate with the pass for the transformation belt (laughs).

"Did you play the role of Hanto during the audition?"

Hino: I also played the role of who I later found out was the main character, but in the end, I was frequently assigned the role of Hanto. Still, I thought his character had a cool position when they explained him to me, so I wasn't sure if he'd fit with my everyday self.

"How was it when you learned that you had been chosen?"

Hino: I was shocked because I wasn't expecting to be picked. The way my agency informed me also startled me abit. I was so happy and shocked, that I was in a state where I couldn't think straight for about five minutes.

"Did you contact your family right away?"

Hino: I was told it was okay to contact my parents as soon as I could. My mother cried and was delighted. Hearing my mother's tearful voice on the other end of the phone caused me to cry as well. My father never seemed very interested in my work, but when I told him that I had passed the audition, he exclaimed "seriously?!" in the loudest voice I had ever heard (laughs). It made me really happy when I heard that. My father's always worrying about me. I started this work when I was in high school, but was told, "You're a student, so your priority is your studies and to then go to college." However, my work became so busy, that it became difficult for me to attend college, and my parents were constantly worried about me. That's why I think I was finally able to reassure them by passing this audition, and it's a new starting point for me as well. In this day and age, TV dramas that run for a year are rare, so I'm grateful for the opportunity to participate in one, and I'll do my best this year without forgetting to keep my mind fresh.

"What was your first impression when you read the script?"

Hino: When I first heard about the motif, I thought, "What would a sweets Rider be like?" I think everyone's first guess would be a poppin, cute hero. So, while yes, the designs give off a cool, cute and modern feel, the story is very dramatic. The lives of Shouma and Hanto, who I play, will gradually overlap, and many other appealing characters appear, which always makes me wonder what will happen next. I myself look forward to the next script whenever I receive one. How will Hanto become a Kamen Rider, and how will he relate to Shouma after becoming one? I hope that you'll look forward to that.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your performance?"

Hino: I was told, "It's good to be more flexible." There's the way he approaches people with his fake smile when he's a freelance writer, and his "I'll crush you" anger when he confronts a Granute. It didn't matter what others would think, he told me, "I'd rather you vary his strengths and weaknesses so that he looks like a different person." At first, I thought Hanto was a cool character. It certainly looks that way when compared to Shouma and Sachika, but there are surprisingly few scenes resembling that in the show, it's more like he's clumsy around people. The Director raised the mood of my first appearance scene, up to the point where it felt like a silly older brother had appeared. That part changed the impression I had when I first received the script considerably.

"We have the impression that freelance writers are prone to being disliked, as they're always snooping around and are persistent in pestering the main character."

Hino: While I can't speak for myself, Hanto himself is a character who's teased during the show, so he's the most lovable character. He acts with conviction, and I think that's what makes him so cool, but he sometimes ends up getting nowhere, so he gets teased. And yet, when he's teased, he'll get angry and say, "Don't screw with me!," but he doesn't deny it (laughs). The reason Hanto's slowly becoming more like that may be due to the fact that my own character is starting to come out. In this sense, I feel that the synchronization with the role has risen. This way, Hanto's character has a wide range, so I'm able to play him rather freely.

"After this, Hanto reaches a major turning point when he becomes a Kamen Rider, so did you switch up your performance there?"

Hino: For Hanto, it's not so much a situation where his fate has taken a turn for the worse, it's more like his connection from the past has further unfolded. That's why rather than switching between before and after he becomes a Kamen Rider, I tried to separate his role as a freelance writer from his desire for revenge against the Granutes. To tell you the truth, after I learned about Hanto's early life, I tried to avoid "seeing" his family as much as possible in order to understand his loneliness alittle better. That's why when he confronts the Granutes, I think his eyes are pretty much burning with anger. It is of big help for him that he's surrounded by cheerful characters like the Gochizou and Sachika.

"How was the first transformation scene?"

Hino: Before his first transformation, another major event happens to Hanto which leads to him becoming a Kamen Rider. With the power he's acquired for the first time, Hanto's first transformation is a scene where he shows the anger and hatred he's been holding onto for such a long time towards the Granute. Trying to convey those emotions through my performance was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I think that Valen's transformation itself was also unrefined, unlike the image of a perfect hero with overwhelming strength. Still, he's unrefined but works as hard as he can, so I'd be happy if everyone who watches the show can feel that there's a cool feel to him. In a scene where "tears" are an important point in the direction, I was so emotional, that tears genuinely ran down my face as well. I still remember this because it was a moment when my emotions and my performance matched up.

"As Hanto, did you feel like he reached the climax from the earliest stage?"

Hino: No, no! This isn't the end of his story! (laughs). I'm sure there'll be many more climaxes from now on, and I'm personally looking forward to them.

"What did you think of Kamen Rider Valen's design?"

Hino: There was more chocolate than I expected (laughs). Despite that, it's cool. I also like that Valen is a "helmet type," while Gavv is a "mask type."

"By the way, Hino-san, what's your favorite sweet?"

Hino: Chocolate of course!

"Do you have a favorite secondary Rider from previous Riders?"

Hino: It's Kamen Rider Zeronos from Den-O. I love his "I'm pretty strong!" catchphrase! In terms of actors, I like Yoshizawa Ryo-san, who played Kamen Rider Meteor in "Kamen Rider Fourze." When you're that cool at giving a performance, you can't be beat. Director Kamihoriuchi previously told me that when Yoshizawa-san was told to "do something like this," he instantly made it his own performance instead of following instructions. He also said, "His ability to adapt was exceptional." It made me want to be an actor like him. He's a respectable person.

"We'd like to see a catchphrase from Valen as well."

Hino: Yeah. He currently doesn't have any lines that he's always saying, but I'll try to bring out Hanto's human appeal while standing beside Shouma, the hero from another world.

"Do you want to film some action of yourself before transforming?"

Hino: Action is fun! I do voluntary training on a daily basis together with Valen's Suit Actor Kaji Kotaro-san, Gavv's Nawata Yuya-san, and everyone else on the Action Team. The day before an action scene is set to be filmed, they would assist me in practicing for it. With the exception of impossible scenes, I've been challenging myself to not use a stand in.

"How's the teamwork with your co stars, Chinen-san and Miyabe-san?"

Hino: We get along very well. They're both really adorable, but they're professional actors who are reliable on set. In a good way, we're rivals and friends. I hope I can build a better relationship with them from now on.

"Not long ago you said, "It might be his own fault that Hanto's become a character who's teased," but is Hino-san himself a character who's being teased?"

Hino: Basically, I play the role of responding to Chinen-kun's jokes (laughs). However, including Miyabe-san, when the three of us are together, I sometimes play the role of a fool, and will often be the one saying, "Hey, cut it out~." That's the way things usually go. Just so you're aware, I am the oldest (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to all fans of Gavv."

Hino: For me, Kamen Riders are the heroes I've dreamed of being since I was a child, so I'm very happy that I'm able to be involved in this historic series. Over the next year, I'll do my best to meet and exceed everyone's expectations with sincerity, and without forgetting my original intention. I look forward to your support!

Miyabe Nozomi (Sachika)

"First, please tell us about the time of your audition for Gavv."

Miyabe: I'll be honest, the audition was a disaster. The audition script contained several assignments, each being individually numbered. At that time, act 2 was a fainting performance and act 3 was a conversation between two people, and even though I thought, "I absolutely have to pass!," I was so incredibly nervous, that I ended up doing a fainting performance for act 3. The other actor spoke to me according to the script, and that's when I realized, "This is wrong!," but it was too late. The final audition didn't go well either. The Director told me, "Act like an aunt from Osaka," but I wasn't confident that I could pull it off, and that's when I became depressed and thought, "This is a lost cause." In spite of all that, I was surprised that I was chosen.

"How did you receive the report that you had been chosen?"

Miyabe: After the audition, my manager called me to come to Ginza. As I headed there and thought, "I wonder if they're upset about something?," they messaged me with, "Take a selfie with your phone." I didn't understand what they meant and was like, "Eh? Did I gain weight or something?" but then I got a message saying, "You passed the audition." It seems that the selfie was to document me going from freaked out to smiling. I had never been so emotionally moved as I was at that moment. This video captures a memorable moment in time, so I hope to be able to release it in some form someday (laughs).

"Have you watched the Kamen Rider series?"

Miyabe: I have a younger brother who's eight years younger than me, so we watched "Kamen Rider Drive," "Ghost," and "Ex-Aid" together. After I passed the audition, I watched "Kamen Rider Gotchard" in order to study.

"We're sure your brother was happy to know that his sister was going to play a role in Kamen Rider."

Miyabe: I still haven't told my brother yet (at the time of this interview). I was given the okay to talk to them about it, so I did contact my parents right away. I plan on surprising my brother by not telling him until the official announcement.

"What were your impressions of Gavv from reading the script?"

Miyabe: Each and every character has a story to tell, so I thought it was a production that'll keep you interested even early on. That's why I can never wait for the next script. I'm sure all the viewers feel the same way.

"Did the Director give you any orders regarding your role?"

Miyabe: Along with Shouma's Chinen-kun, Director Sugihara gave us acting lessons even before filming began. Each time, I was told, "Cheerful, cheerful." It was required at the auditions, so I always try to have the cheerfulness of an Osakan aunt and the kindness that seems to embrace everyone. Sachika is a gyaru president, but I've personally lived a life with no connection to gyarus. I also wasn't the type to stand out in class. That's why after I was chosen for this role, I learned to be more like a gyaru by listening to songs with a cheerful tempo, reading gyaru magazines, and watching official Youtube channels and TikToks.

"What does Miyabe-san think a gyarus mind is?"

Miyabe: I wonder…….No matter how difficult a situation may be, you can always think, "Well, I'll figure it out!," and in a positive sense, I think it's important not to "overthink" things. A friend of mine often says, "Keep a gyaru in your heart,” and I thought it was a very good saying. Thanks to those words, I'm now able to have a gyaru named Amane Sachika reside in my heart.

"Playing the role of Amane Sachika is also a "transformation" for Miyabe-san."

Miyabe: You're right! There's quite a gap between myself and Sachika, so I don't think it's an exaggeration to say that it's a transformation for me. I've never played a role so different from my own self before, so it's fun (laughs). It's not just acting that I enjoy, but also doing alot of research for the role.

"Did you also make your hair blonde for the role of Sachika?"

Miyabe: I did. I've always had black hair, but I bleached it three times to make it blonde. At first, every time I looked in the mirror, I was like, "Who are you?" (laughs). Still, once I got used to looking at it, I started to see myself in photos as a different person from who I used to see when I had black hair. Sachika also wears heavy makeup, so you might not even notice me when I walk down the street during my private time. That's why I'm thinking of wearing colored contacts and false eyelashes in my private time so people will notice me (laughs).

"Sachika isn't a fighter, but are there any plans for action scenes?"

Miyabe: There are no particular scenes set for me, but I was once allowed to participate in an action session. I didn't do very well at the time, but I'd be happy if they could prepare some action scenes for Sachika too! Since I went through great lengths to appear in Kamen Rider, I'd like to try my hand at action.

"Would you like to transform into a Kamen Rider like Shouma and Hanto?"

Miyabe: I'd like to do that too! Recent series always have female Kamen Riders, and my dream is to be one of them. However, Sachika's a woman with a strong heart, so even if she can't transform, I'd like to use the strength of her feelings as her "weapon."

"Miyabe-san, which Rider do you like more, Gavv or Valen?"

Miyabe: That's a tough question! (laughs). Gavv's a Rider from another world, so he's incredibly strong, but when he's alone he usually ends up in a pinch. And since Valen's the one who helps him, it's like they're one and the same. So, I guess I'd go with both.

"Have you ever directly seen the Kamen Riders on set?"

Miyabe: They're so cool! Being able to see those forms up close and personal will definitely motivate me for the next year. Before I entered this set, I thought the camera work was what made the action so powerful. Naturally, there are scenes like that, but the action itself is very powerful. When I watched episodes 1 and 2, I was surprised to see that the scenes that were already powerful without CG were even more powerful with CG.

"Were there any other spectacles unique to tokusatsu heroes?"

Miyabe: The Gochizou are made by using both props and CG, so during filming of the CG scenes, Chinen-kun talks to Gochizou that aren't there. I thought that kind of performance was difficult. Still, Sachika doesn't know that the Gochizou exists. She also doesn't know about the Granutes, or that Shouma and Hanto are Kamen Riders. They're so close, yet she only knows about Kamen Riders through gossip. I can only imagine what would happen to Sachika if she knew of the Granute's existence. She might want to try to get along with them instead of fighting. Of course, she'd become angry if someone she cared about got hurt by them.

"What's been the most impressive scene up to episode 5?"

Miyabe: Sachika runs a general store, so she and Shouma do alot of jobs together. I enjoyed the scene where they were handing out flyers to advertise the ramen shop. I'm looking forward to seeing what other jobs they do in the future. I also like the scene in episode 3, where Hanto comes to Hapipare and Sachika pokes him with a toy. I thought it was a good representation of their relationship. It's not that Sachika can't read the room, as when she has to do something, she'll do it, but the mood of the place comes first (laughs).

"Hino-san himself said that Hanto's a character that everyone teases."

Miyabe: Hino-kun himself often makes the set feel more relaxed when he's teased. I also mess around with him alot (laughs). It's kind of easy to tease him, almost like there's a sense of security and that it's okay to tease him. He's the oldest out of the three of us (laughs). Chinen-kun lightens up the mood with his interesting remarks, like when he says, "That's one way of thinking about it!" Once Hino-kun gets into it, it becomes really noisy. We screw around when it's time to screw around, but we're very serious when we have to face our roles. They'll suggest things like, "Let's try this here," or "Let's practice this alittle." I'm glad that the three of us will be together on this set for a year.

"Miyabe-san, what kind of sweets do you like?"

Miyabe: I like plum types of sweets, like crunchy plums and dried plums. On days when we have filming, I'll stop by a convenience store and buy one of those before heading to the set. However, the makeup artist pointed out to me that I should be careful not to eat too much, otherwise my face might puff up (laughs).

"And now finally, please give a message to the fans of Gavv."

Miyabe: Kamen Rider Gavv is poppin and cute, and I think it's a show that'll be easy for all kinds of people to relate to. I really hope that people of all ages will watch it. Since I'm also "armed" with a gyarus mindset, I'll do my best to cheer up tons of people. I look forward to your support over the next year!

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