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corviiids · 20 days ago

Note

If i ask nicely, would you consider writing the core of Light and L character like you did for Shuake? (IT'S BRILLIANT BTW!! You're so galazy brain. I love reading any meta or just silly posts you posted here <3) because you mention Light a couple time in Akechi's part and now i need to know your thought on him and L.

(Also, about the death note wip you're cooking right now, is it a oneshot or multiple chapters fic? Im super excited for it!)

i ABSOLUTELY would thank you so much for asking and for your lovely kind words. and im sorry this took me seven years to get to i just kept psyching myself out.

here's the ren & goro post this ask refers to for anyone wondering. the 'core' refers to my answer to a writing meme:

26. What would you describe as OOC? [...] it's the same approach i take to language tbh particularly in pronunciation. once you understand how a language forms its sounds at a base level, you dont struggle with the accent on particular words, and you can encounter words you've never seen before and understand how they're likely to be said/spelled/etc. so once i learn to 'speak' a character they come more naturally. idk if that comparison makes sense to anyone else but it does to meeeee all this to say i think a character is ooc if they do or say something i cant reconcile with that core!

the death note wip is a multichap!! thank you for your interest!!! ill talk about it more once i've stopped tying myself in knots plotting it!! broadly it's a what-if type au which has led me to replot an entire series from scratch dont look at me

anyway lawlight below. i will say ive been really desperately wanting to do like a video essay or something about death note which would be a lot about L and light specifically and how i interpret their characters so ill try and not go toooooo insane in this post but maybe ill go more insane later. in a video. with my human voice.

(edit: i failed i went insane)

light - one-way road to the sky

ok let's talk about one of my favourite scenes of the entire series, which i think is widely not super well understood but honestly to me holds the key to light's entire character. it's right there in volume 1

sorry, the only digital copy ive got on hand is the scanlation. for comparison the official print copy reads:

bubble 1: hey, maki, wanna party tomorrow with some guys from s. college? ten o'clock. bubble 2: yeah, totally! bubble 3: hey, can i go too? bubble 4: my mom isn't here yet? what's that nag doing, geez! light (thinking): damn... light (thinking): start looking around you... light (thinking): and all you see are people the world would be better off without.

this happens within the first 40 pages of the first volume. and it's like. haha hey light what the fuck? this is a totally normal scene in everyday life. people are talking about living their lives. nobody's done anything remotely reprehensible in this scene. and light's just walking through the streets experiencing apparently unprompted and quite extreme misanthropy. what's wrong with him

ok let's have a quick look at the first time we meet light in the anime.

[...]

cool cool cool im gonna pivot again let's look at the first song (besides the overture) in the musical.

ok rook! we get it! light yagami is out here like damn we live in a society time to kill people about it. this is news to nobody! we all know this!! that's what the series is about! why are we rehashing all of this

great. cool. awesome. let's look at all those scenes one more time. but this time don't look at light. instead let's look at the people around him

in the opening shots of the anime (after the shinigami world, which actually is much the same theme): news of brutal murder is narrated over establishing shots of tokyo. light is shown dead-eyed, going about his ordinary life, surrounded by random other civilians doing the same thing.

in the musical, light isn't angry that murders happen. he's angry about the inaction and complicity of the ordinary people around him.

these scenes aren't highlighting that light thinks crime is bad. we all know crime is bad. the point of these scenes is to contrast light's frustration and fury against the reactions of the people around him. here's what light yagami is seeing: we're surrounded with rot. but nobody's reacting. and then life just goes on. so suddenly all those completely normal scenes of people being concerned with the superficial details of their life aren't just normality, they're complicity. day in, day out. so the world is rotting, and to light, it seems that everyone is completely ok with that. that's just the way things are. and that disgusts and depresses him. on top of than that, it isolates him: he feels like he's the only one who sees or cares about this, that everyone dismisses him as naive, that no one else can be trusted, that everyone else is able to ignore something he sees as inexcusable. this is a sentiment he repeats again and again. it reads as arrogance, and it is, but it's also isolation - after all it's lonely at the top and just as lonely to feel like you're at the top even if you arent

can i talk about the iliad again? is that ok with everyone. im gonna talk about the iliad again

in book 1 of the iliad, the commander of the greek army insults achilles by publicly and unlawfully taking a prize (the girl briseis) who rightfully belonged to achilles. achilles reacts by withdrawing his troops from the army, dooming the greeks' campaign. achilles had a lot of friends in the army, so why would he essentially sentence them all to death for something that only agamemnon did? well, (because agamemnon did something publicly that everyone knew was wrong, and yet nobody was willing (or at least able) to stand up for achilles and stop it from happening. achilles, disgusted by the inaction of the bystanders, turned his back on all of them. fun fact i nearly wrote a mini thesis (an academic one not just a long post on tumblr) about the intersection btwn this book of the iliad and legal theory but law+classics is such a niche interdisciplinary field my professor couldnt find anyone who could supervise me so i couldnt do it. anyway that's not the point

is this right or fair? who cares, not the point. what im interested in is what that kind of behaviour says about the individual. light, like achilles, is a highly idealistic person. we all know that in the abstract, but take a second to really really dig into it, because it's actually quite an interesting fact about a character who is popularly understood as being cold and unfeeling or flatly psychotic and on a power trip. idealism isn't naivety, it's not optimism, it's not even really a happy thing. idealism is simply a firm belief in the way things should be at the cost of refusing or being unable to accept what is.

this is the core of light yagami to me. light doesn't become kira because he's cold or destructive or crazy. he doesn't actually even do it because he's spiteful or misanthropic. it's very much the opposite. he's misanthropic because he believes in the world so much. isn't that a great contradiction! ok here i'll show you some proof.

in an early scene (also in volume 1), light describes himself as an optimist and ryuk finds that interesting.

so light is an optimist. he believes in a bright future for humanity. he wants to protect humanity. he likes humanity. no, he doesn't believe that people are inherently good, but he does believe in some goodness as a part of humanity and wants to protect the best of people, in an egotistical way:

how do we reconcile that with a young man who walks through the streets listening to completely ordinary conversations by ordinary people and reacts by wishing death on everyone talking?

let's split out what's going on here. remember what's happening in light's head. light yagami is 17 years old. he grew up with a police chief for a father (in a fictional world where the police are the literary stand-in for law as justice so just pretend for a second that police are good im sorry), watching his father work tirelessly to fight crime - but crime continues, making this an endless, thankless task. and while crime continues, so does the world around him. every day light sees atrocities on the news, and he sees atrocities brought home, and then he lives his ordinary life and watches the people around him apparently not give a shit, only concerned with the petty details of their own little lives. bystanders watching wrong happen, selfishly unaffected. day in, day out. that idealism is getting colder the longer this unendurable injustice goes on. so achilles condemns his friends to death.

what human trait is being exhibited? realistically it's helplessness. would being miserable about crime help to end crime? of course not. people have to go on with their lives, that's a fact, it's even a strength. even light begins the series completely unable to do a thing about the rot he sees around him, which is part of why he's so depressed. but that's not what light is seeing. light is seeing ordinary people appear to choose not to give a fuck about injustice. the thing that's sparking his disgust is apathy, real or apparent. light yagami is an idealist. he wants a better future - a utopia that only he can imagine - something that can only happen if either everyone becomes as good as he is, or he takes control.

if you leave an idealist in an unwinnable situation for too long, their pure belief will start to curdle. it will not turn to realism. they will not accept what is. they will only become more and more bitter that what should be, isn't. they will become a cynicist. this is really the heart of my argument and ive made it a million times and ill make it again. idealism and cynicism are not opposites, they're not even two sides of a coin. they are two points on the same line which moves very quickly in only one direction. this is where i start when im writing him: how do i make someone who believes so hard that it's killing him? someone who believes so hard it makes him believe in nothing?

then we find the third point on that line, which someone can reach by gaining sudden power - for example, a magic notebook that kills people: radicalisation.

how do we reconcile his desire to protect humanity with the fact that what he's trying to protect against is also humanity? how can i say light loves humanity when he has such disdain for them? easy peasy: light sees himself as the messiah. my bumper sticker that says ask me about light's martyr complex PLEASE ask me about light's martyr complex i wrote a song about it ask me about light seeing himself as the sacrificial lamb on the (and then the bumper sticker cuts off)

light loves humanity the way a twisted shepherd might love his sheep. something to be protected, but something beneath you that can't be trusted to know what's best for them. humanity is something he loves because it's endearingly pathetic, something to pity and save. repeatedly he refers to becoming kira as a personal sacrifice, something that costs him his soul but that he has to do. it's a delusion of grandeur driven by dual purposes of ego and some desperate wish to change a status quo he's been despairing about for years.

tl;dr: light believes with all his soul in something he thinks is impossible, and it's killing him slowly, and then a chance to change the world just falls out of the sky

L - isolate yourself until you can make believe it's just a game

steeples fingers. i have Things to Say about L Lawliet.

ok listen. listen. Listen. listen. are you listening? listen. in general i think people kind of misunderstand characters who are hyper-intellectual and/or behave unconventionally in social settings. you're all going to fucking kill me for this but i think there's a tendency to like... accidentally turn any character who falls vaguely in this broad category into sheldon cooper. god im sorry i feel like i just shot everyone's collective dog

specifically what i mean by that is that 'awkward' gets flanderised in a way that eventually becomes a caricature of itself, because there is so much nuance to actual social awkwardness that it's very easy to kind of pick a template and stick to it without really thinking about what makes that character 'awkward' and what the root and type of awkwardness is, unique to them. so instead we just get, like... generic big word user. generic driven by logic and logic alone guy. generic guy who doesn't Do Well with other people, for Smart Reasons.

here's a list of true things about L which i think are safe to say are uncontroversial

intuitive

logical, master of deductive reasoning

competitive

behaves in an odd way that draws attention

is aware of that fact

focuses extremely hard on his cases and only cares about being a detective not anything else

isolates himself and doesn't like talking to people partly for his own safety partly because it's boring to him

here are things i have seen in characterisation of L which i would like to dispute

makes decisions and draws conclusions based solely on logic and evidence

doesn't understand social cues

here's a list of alternate interpretations which i would like to propose and that i am willing to back up with evidence and/or by physically fighting over them

is driven primarily not by logic or evidence, but by incredible intuition which is supported by logic and evidence when it suits him

has a keen understanding of people, interpersonal relationships, and social norms

leverages that understanding frequently to his benefit

feels that he is not capable of / not a part of emotions that he sees as being typically human (see his speech about being a monster)

and yet in an abstract and self-contradictory and low-priority way still kind of desires connection, leaving him emotionally isolated

chooses to behave oddly on purpose, not because he doesn't realise he's behaving oddly, but because it is not a priority for him

those might seem like fine distinctions at some points, but stray slightly off the mark and his characterisation begins to vary wildly. for example, interpret L as being bemused or unaware of social cues, and one possible characterisation that may stem from that understanding (which i have seen) is that L doesn't understand sarcasm or jokes - which is demonstrably untrue. L demonstrates weak social skills because social skills aren't a priority for him, not because he doesn't understand social norms. after all he does a reasonably convincing 'i am a normal dudeguy' voice on at least two occasions (suzuki the information line guy and asahi the calling matsuda for drinks guy). even with the taskforce, when his behaviour is more of his usual bizarre self, he still makes the effort to treat them respectfully and meet them where they are, explaining himself when they ask, chatting with them, holding ordinary conversations. you can read this any number of ways but my point is that he can do all of this with relatively little struggle

it's also very much not the case that L doesn't have feelings or care about other people. he's ruthless and he's cool with causing people to die if he has to, but he reacts with visible distress to the deaths of the FBI agents, to ukita's death, to the prospect of other members of the taskforce dying. he does care, he's just not morally driven as a priority.

ok but if he can cosplay as Normal Dudeguy with no trouble then why doesn't he. why does he conduct all his business in dark rooms apart from the entire world forever. is it gauche to use a section of my own fic to explain my point? im going to do it anyway

It is easy to identify in Light what he has long known in himself. That little pearl of disruption, grown around an irritating grain of something just unique and tremendous enough to be uncomfortable to the more ordinary around them. L has hidden it by hiding himself. Light has hidden it by hiding within himself. L's black letter is to Light’s vapid smile is to Kira's invisible bullet.

(honestly a lot of what i have discussed here is also covered in this fic so in case this fucking three thousand word essay is not enough for you you can go read that.)

something L and light significantly have in common is that their intellect and unique way of thinking really set them apart from everyone in the world, which is incredibly isolating. but while L has the 'benefit' (arguably could be a detriment but i think he sees it as a benefit) of a unique upbringing which allows him to use his skills to their full extent without worrying about really anything else, light is very much trapped by social convention. while light's life is privileged and materially perfect, he's stuck inside what society expects of him, while L is able to exist completely outside that paradigm. the result is that light has retreated within himself and spends all day playing a part, barely tolerating the monotony and apathy of the world around him by mechanically performing as expected while smothering the part of him that never has an opportunity to truly come out until kira. L, on the other hand, has no reason to put up with a society that is, for lack of a better term, really just beneath him. so he retreats. remember that the first volume/chapter of the manga is called 'boredom'.

you can see that even in his comparatively limited interactions with the task force, he is having to exercise a level of patience to explain to them what he's thinking at every stage, to have to defend his methods, his instincts, his decisions, etc, needing to step through every stage of his reasoning so that the others can follow and won't object. this is NOT just about masking his odd behaviour, it's also very much about having to step through his morals and his process, which is second nature to him but is new to everyone else and needs explaining. it is visibly exhausting to him, and this is with people he actually seems to like well enough. eg during yotsuba arc when light and soichiro keep raising moral concerns, and he has those little "here we go again" moments (which i love SO much and are so telling of him to me) even though he doesn't let his frustration show. which is why he usually does not bother with it and prefers to work alone. he sits the way he does even though he knows it's odd, because he feels he need to sit that way. when light calls it out, he doesn't question that people will think he's strange, so he's clearly aware. he just explains himself.

but if he were out with people on the regular, he'd need to defend himself constantly. the things L does are not conventional. yes the sitting is just an oddity of his so it's a good example, but it's not just the things that are odd that cause a problem: he frequently makes decisions which seem to make massive leaps of logic nobody else (except light) can follow, and often his actions are morally questionable or even reprehensible. all that is because L is extremely pragmatic and results-focused. it kind of doesn't matter to him how he gets from A to B as long as he gets to B. but the way his mind works is that he makes big jumps that make perfect sense to him but would draw curiosity or objection from anyone who doesn't think the way he does. it would be absolutely exhausting to have to constantly defend every strange or questionable thing he did, so he just retreats.

when he works with other people, i think it's worth noting that the team dynamic never actually struggles for L's awkwardness. this is something i really like about death note honestly - L is quirky and strange, but the series doesn't do that thing where it's like He's A Genius Of Course He's Rude To Everyone. he's actually not. for the most part, L is courteous, patient, and polite. he's sometimes blunt or abrupt, but he very rarely does the thing where he's obliviously cruel or brushes people off. he's considerate of people's needs, he's visibly compassionate of other people's emotional difficulties, and he very rarely loses his patience. when matsuda tries to tell the locked-up light about kira resuming activity, L snaps "Matsuda!" to stop him, and then immediately corrects himself to go "I mean, Matsuda-san." it would have been really easy for the series to do that tropey shit where he's so smart that he doesn't bother with politeness, but he factually does. he makes the effort to treat people politely even when he's not actually being kind. when he's asked to explain himself, the reader can see he's tired and annoyed, but he doesn't take it out on people. on the odd occasion he does make fun of someone for being slow, he does so in mostly light-hearted ways. so he is very capable of dealing with other people directly. his lack of social skills aren't for lack of understanding. he just can't be bothered. it's a waste of energy to try and behave 'normally' or to do things that other people find acceptable, whether that's due to social norm or common morality. it is so, so much easier for L to do things alone. without the need to explain or defend his behaviour to anyone, his isolation turns real world problems into something almost purely theoretical. so it really is like a game for him, at least at first.

whatever

i think it's really important for a character like L to not be fooled by the surface-level categorisation of 'smart awkward character'. we really need to find what's driving his awkwardness. it's not ignorance, it's not even really disdain, it's exasperation. he's tired of being surrounded by people who just can't keep up with him, and he does not have enough energy or interest to spend his time handholding everyone through his process, so he just does whatever the hell he wants and avoids people as much as possible so he doesn't have to deal with it.

look i know this is a really long way to say stuff that people mostly already know, but i think L is one of the most finely nuanced characters in the series because he looks like such a simple expression of a known archetype and the ways in which he subverts expectations are so granular that it's easy to completely miss them even while appreciating how interesting he is. the way this translates into how i write him is that he's polite and has a lot of patience until he simply doesn't, at which point he'll inwardly or subtly express that he wishes he didn't have to bother with this shit, that he picks up on fine social and emotional details that other people will totally miss, but that he'll always put his own whims and plans before anything else.

tl;dr: L behaves like someone who is constantly moving at his own pace and for whom dealing with people is rarely worth the effort, but this does not make him inept or unkind.

#i also wanna say i have my own personal headcanons regarding like #l and light's experience with neurodivergence etc #but that doesn't play into my analysis here so much. this is just about how i read their behaviour and motivations #diagnosing fictional characters is not really something i feel comfortable doing out loud #because i dont feel it's my place to do that. ill just keep those thoughts in my head #rookthots #death note #long post #i got this ask in like september #im so sorry #i got stressed about sharing my opinions on the internet so i just sat on it for months #IT'S MY OPINIONS. MY OPINIONS ONLY. only my personal thoughts and opinions #only my personal approach to writing these characters #only my personal fucking doctorate on lightology that im presenting on tumblr

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lu-fic-recommendation-of-the-day · 5 months ago

Text

(author doesn't have a tumblr but its by alternatemind on ao3)

Series Summary:

An AU where Twilight loses his Twilight Shard and meets the Chain stuck as Wolfie with no way to transform back.

It will consist of a lot of oneshots/multichap fics of the Chain traveling around with Wolfie, having no clue that he’s really just a guy who’s stuck as a wolf. Will include an unhealthy amount of found family bonding and Time being the Chain’s collective dad (or dog dad, in Twilight’s unfortunate case).

Series Tags:

Flora/Wild

Midna/Twilight

Sky/Sun

Malon/Time

Tetra/Wind

Linked Universe Links As Family

Twilight-centric

Misunderstandings

Linked Universe Link(s) and Wild First Meet

its mostly a twilight meets the chain fic though wild does too

Wolves

Time is a Good Parent

Parental Time

midna is mentioned multiple times because I love her and want an excuse to write her

Good Sibling Wind

Protective Sky

I’ll add more tags when I think of them

Flora Needs a Hug

Wild uses Sign Language

sometimes

50/50 he’ll get more comfortable when time goes on

Legend Has a Bad Time

Wolf Twilight

Wild is a Little Shit

Curses

Alternate Universe

sky and sun are very in love and it’s SICKENING

Pranks and Practical Jokes

Twilight Angst

MILD - Freeform

he’s kind of going through something right now

Fluff

Family Bonding

Snowball Fight

Family Fluff

Groose Being an Idiot

groose will always get a cameo in every fic I write on skyloft even if it’s tiny

Wind is a Little Shit

Sky Has a Bad Time

as in I targeted legend last fic and now it’s sky’s turn (affectionate)

Light Angst

Twilight Has a Bad Time

that tag is alternate title for this series honestly

Wild Needs a Hug

Wild Gets a Hug

fi midna ravio and mask mentions

Party

Linkle & Warriors Are Twins

he actually has a good time he’s just in a constant state of suffering in this series so

Bonding

Brotherly Bonding

Parental Malon

Bathing/Washing

Warriors is a Little Shit

Twilight & Warriors Friendship

Twilight is a Little Shit

Time is a Little Shit

theyre all little shits it comes with being a hero

Sign Language

Domestic Fluff

No Plot/Plotless

Four Splits into the Colors

Cave-In

Four Has a Bad Time

THIS SOUNDS BAD but i promise it’s not they’re still vibing

just in a Situation this time

Sickfic

Sick Character

and then he has a fantastic time

briefly

Fever

Dreams

midna’s mentioned enough that i gave her a tag

Hyrule Gets a Hug

why is that not a tag

we need to make that a tag asap

Hurt/Comfort

Mentioned Marin

Mentioned Koholint Island

Blood and Injury

Fluff and Angst

Fights

Legend is a Little Shit

Choking

Fairy Hyrule

Plot

Pirates

Reunions

Major Character Injury

Sky is a Little Shit

Twilight is So Done

Drawing

the plot in this one is so small a minish could hold it in one hand but it’s there - Freeform

Word count: 136,325

Finished: No

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applespants · 3 months ago

Text

Fall in Love Again

Orion Pax x D-16

Read on Ao3 Here!

Word Count: 1.6k (under the cut)

Summary: A late night and some high grade end up revealing a lot more than expected.

A/N: lightweight orion pax my beloved... anyways this spawned from me being so unwell after tfone! i'm not sure whether or not i'll add on to this since i have a multichap fic already in the works BUT i love these two so we shall see! i am also a sucker for drunken confessions soooooo yeah! i hope yall enjoy hehee

---

“Primus, you really cannot handle high grade, huh?” D-16 chuckled before taking another swig of his own drink.

Orion Pax blinked his optics slowly. “I can hardly handle you.”

“What does that even mean?”

Orion only hiccuped in response, which signaled to D-16 that it was finally time to go. He gulped down the rest of his high grade and paid the tab before helping Orion out of the chair, the two of them stumbling slightly due to Orion’s processor lagging.

“Why do you get heavier when you’re under the influence?”

“‘Cuz I drank sooooo much high grade— so much that I -hic- I’m at least 50% high grade now,” Orion said. He began to giggle at his own joke, which eventually made him snort. That propelled him into laughter and he threw his head back, nearly knocking him and D-16 over due to their imbalance.

“Easy! This is the last time I take you drinking. How much did you have?”

Orion had trouble focusing his optics when D-16 stared at him. He held up his servos and slowly raised all ten of his digits, one at a time. “Thiiis much.”

D-16 glared at him. “Don’t lie to me.”

Orion frowned with his lip pouted. He lowered his digits so he was only holding up his pointer digit on either servo. “This much…” He said in a slightly defeated tone. D-16 held back a laugh.

“You only had two? You’re worse than I thought.”

Orion narrowed his optics and used his raised digits to poke at D-16’s faceplate. He swatted his servos away with a grumble and Orion began to giggle again. D-16 sighed and rolled his optics. He took Orion’s servo in his own and put his arm over his shoulder so that he could walk him better.

“Careful, Dee—” Orion murmured with a silly grin on his face. He pressed his helm into D-16’s chest while they walked, hiccuping again. “You’ll make me fall in love with you again.”

D-16 grumbled, not entirely registering what Orion had said. “This is the third time I’ve had to walk your sorry aft home, and I’m going to have to deal with your processor-ache in the morning and— wait, what did you say?”

Orion dragged his feet slightly as they continued to walk. His head began to loll back and D-16 adjusted him with his shoulder. “Orion, what did you say just now?”

Orion held up two digits again. “This much?”

“No, no, no, after that. About falling in love with me.”

Orion giggled, though there was a bit of nervousness to his giggles this time. He did not say anything for a few moments, and D-16 slowed his walk when Orion finally spoke.

“Dee, I really—” Orion stared longingly into D-16’s optics, making his vents hitch. He smiled softly and his optics flickered down to D-16’s dermas for just a moment before he looked up again. “I really -hic- I really need to use the restroom.”

D-16 paused for a moment, registering what Orion had said, and then laughed softly. “You’re so weird. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Orion hummed and nodded, then began to giggle again. D-16 rolled his optics and placed a servo on Orion’s hip to make sure that he did not fall over. Orion placed his servo over D-16’s and tried to lace their digits together. D-16 glanced at Orion, but said nothing in protest otherwise, tightening his grip on Orion’s servo as they walked.

“Dee,” Orion murmured. “Can we sit down for a minute?”

D-16 nodded, guiding Orion to a bench near one of the alleys. D-16 sat him down and stood beside him. Orion looked up at him with a frown and took hold of one of his servos, playing with his digits before pulling him down toward the bench.

“You’re too far away up there. Sit with me,” Orion insisted, and D-16 begrudgingly obeyed.

“Your processor is going to hate you tomorrow.”

“I only had two, though.”

D-16 could not hold back a laugh this time, thinking of the four that he had himself. He was definitely buzzed, but at least he could walk in a straight line without assistance. Orion continued to play with D-16’s digits, gently tracing the inside of his servo and toying with the tips of his digits. Orion’s touch was soft and ticklish, but it was entertaining him, so D-16 did not try and pull his servo away.

Orion then began to trace up D-16’s arm, feeling every ridge and dent that he had collected over the years in the mines. D-16 had begun to space out, thinking of other things while Orion continued to explore the ridges of his body.

D-16 only came back to reality when Orion was beginning to trace his faceplate. He turned to face Orion, who pulled his servo away without breaking optic contact. “How have I never seen you?”

“What are you talking about? I see you every day,” D-16 chuckled, but Orion shook his helm.

“Maybe I should fall in love with you again… So I can see all of you this time.”

D-16 felt his faceplates warm, and he was sure this time that he had not misheard Orion.

Love? Was Orion… in love with him?

D-16’s processor whirled as he watched Orion, whose optics were trailing up and down his body. Suddenly aware of how much longing was in Orion’s gaze, D-16 stared into his optics and absentmindedly reached for Orion’s servo. Their digits brushed and D-16 flinched slightly despite being the one to initiate the touch.

Orion, despite the state of his processor, confidently took D-16’s servo in his own. He smiled sheepishly and finally tore his gaze away. “Uh oh…”

“‘Uh oh’? Pax, are you okay?” D-16’s intake was dry, his glossa heavy as he fretted over Orion. His chest felt tight, his spark beating fast, and his focus was locked in on Orion, who was now leaning his frame against D-16’s shoulder.

“I’m fine, I just– I think I just fell in love with you again,” Orion sighed, tilting his helm so that he could look at D-16. “You’re mesmerizing.”

D-16 burned. “Pax– Pax you can’t just say stuff like that!” He paused and tightened his grip on Orion’s servo. His glossa felt like lead in his mouth, but he finally mustered up the courage to ask his question. “How did you fall in love with me?”

Orion chuckled, shuttering his optics and leaning closer. “You made it too easy.” He gently lifted the servo that held D-16’s, not letting go as he rocked their servos back and forth in a mindless motion. It had always been a habit of Orion’s to gesture while he talked, and now he was bringing D-16 in. “You’re always– always there for me, and I feel so at home with you.”

D-16 was listening intently to Orion, his spark thrumming as he continued on. “I mean, we do live together, so of course you’re my home, but you’re so much more. You listen to me when no one else will, and every time you speak I feel like I get lost in your voice. You keep me grounded, and I feel like if I were without you–” Orion paused to hiccup, but then did not continue.

D-16 wanted to press Orion for more, wanted to tell him how much he felt for Orion as well, but every word was caught in his intake. They sat in silence for a while, and despite D-16 priding himself on words, he found himself incapable of a response. His processor tried so many times to formulate, but so many things he wanted to say rolled over each other like waves. He felt like he was on an ocean, and all he had to do was drink the water in order to know exactly what to say, but the salinity would rust him, the water would kill him to drink.

So he stayed silent.

Orion shifted after a few moments and pulled away from D-16. The absence of his frame was jolting, and every word that D-16 had tried to formulate suddenly threatened to leap from his throat. Orion was the reckless one, he was the bold one who always took risks that almost never paid off. D-16 was supposed to stay in line and never let his friend go too far. Orion had stepped over a line and was holding his arms open for D-16, but he was afraid to cross that line, no matter how bad he yearned to be with him.

“Dee…” Orion said, so softly that D-16’s audials hardly picked up on it. Words had become so difficult, so elusive. D-16 turned to look at Orion, whose optical ridge was furrowed with worry. “Dee, I don’t feel good.”

Suddenly aware of the situation again, D-16 felt his processor readjust and his spark settle. “Let’s get you back to recharge. C’mere.”

D-16 stood and helped Orion up, more aware of how he touched Orion than ever. He had always kept his feelings close to his chest, and had tried to push them down whenever he was with Orion. But after hearing Orion say how similarly he felt, it was hard to keep the lid on them.

Orion was easy enough to guide back to the dormitories and D-16 helped him into his recharge station. He held onto D-16’s servo, but as he drifted off, his digits slowly loosened until his servo fell down by his side. D-16 watched until Orion was fully in recharge, and then also glanced around the dormitories. Everyone else was either asleep, on their shift, or otherwise not in the general area. D-16 took a deep, shuddering breath and looked once more at Orion. He hesitated for a moment, his servos twitching with indecision, but he finally leaned forward and pressed his dermas to the top of Orion’s helm.

“Goodnight, Orion.”

#transformers #transformers one #maccadam #tf one #d 16 #d 16 x orion pax #optimus prime #megop #megatron #apples words

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girl-of-ink · 10 months ago

Text

Puzzlefic Recs

These Days We Celebrate / Reconfiguration by Phoebeus

Original synopsis: “Originally a series of canon-compliant stories spanning the six month gap between the defeat of Pegasus and the arrival of Otogi, it now includes a branch-off story that changes the climax of the Millennium World arc and explores what would have happened if Atem had gotten his own body a month prior to leaving for Egypt. [Manga-canon, Puzzleshipping]”

Type: Series of oneshots + one multichap longfic

Word count: 300k+ altogether

Rating: G/T/E

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 3 times for the whole series, at least 5 or 6 for Reconfiguration specifically

Standout characters/aspects: Yuugi's mom & Honda

Notes: The holy grail. The puzzle fic to end all puzzle fics. Nothing beats it. It aligns almost 98% with my personal headcanons, & the small things we disagree on are contextualized in a way that makes sense in the story. Yuugi's mom is iconic in this story, & my own interpretations of her lean heavily on her portrayal in this series.

Haunted House Sweet Home by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Yugi doesn't believe in ghosts. He never has and, up until now, he thought he never would. But when he moves into his new apartment, things start disappearing, doors start slamming, and an ancient crown has it out for him. He's forced to face reality: he's living in a haunted house. But will he be ‘living’ there for long?”

Type: Multichap longfic

Word count: 150k+

Rating: T

Warnings: Mention of eventual major character death, brief mention of eventual Yuugi/Atem/fem OC in final chapter

Status: Complete

Times read: Probably 3ish

Standout characters/aspects: Feriha (fem OC) has a very small part, but she is integrated in a well-thought-out manner & quite likable.

Notes: This fic takes a lot of normal aspects of ygo like “cursed object” and “troubled king” and gives them a new spin! Bonus points for writing an OC villain who works as well as Hazim does.

Egyptology Exercises / All This We Do in the Name of Ma’at by Nedjemet

Original synopsis: “My attempt at redoing Yu-Gi-Oh with a focus on character development, magic, and historical accuracy instead of card games. While this is technically a series, "All This We Do in the Name of Ma'at" functions as a standalone story. All of the other stories are just in-universe follow ups to show what the characters got up to after the story was over. These shorts largely function as stand alones, too, since Ma'at follows cannon very closely in the important ways. All of the stories are ordered loosely in terms of when they occured. You can read them in any order.

All of the Egyptology is heavily researched and I did my best to get it right. If something is off and you have a source, please send it my way!

All of the stuff in modern Japan has minimal research done and is more for flavor than anything else. I'm going for anime-level accuracy with that, not realism.”

Type: Multichap longfic + a couple of shorter multichap fics + bonus work diving into the Egyptology research used in the fics

Word count: 200k+ altogether

Rating: T/M/E

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: Twice for All This We Do in the Name of Ma’at, probably 5-6 times for the two sequel fics

Standout characters/aspects: Nedjemet’s research on the Egyptology aspects is very impressive

Notes: Really good! The main fic is quite plot & research heavy tho, so I find myself revisiting the two shorter follow-up fics more often. More fluff than substance for me.

The Last Puzzle by Tenderwulf

Original synopsis: “11 years after the Ceremonial Duel, Atem and Bakura inexplicably find themselves back in Domino. When they meet their previous hosts, they realize how much things have changed: Yuugi, the now world-renowned King of Games, is going through a marriage crisis, Ryou is struggling to balance studies, work, and his brittle mental health, and Malik... well, Malik is living his best life—and his own yami is nowhere to be seen.

They soon realize they all have to work together in order to solve the mystery of the yamis’ return: some to make sure that they stay, and some to make sure that they don't.”

Type: Multichap longfic

Word count: 300k+

Rating: T

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence

Status: Ongoing

Other ships: Tendershipping [Bakura Ryou/Yami Bakura], past Peachshipping [Mazaki Anzu/Mutou Yuugi]

Times read: 1

Standout characters/aspects: Yami Bakura’s character development is stellar.

Notes: Very good, altho I confess that I’m slightly more interested in the puzzle storyline than the tender story (which happens to be the main plot lol). Very much worth reading.

Keep the Light Shining by Clydeside

Original synopsis: “Yugi's new job as a lighthouse keeper sounds simple enough... until he realizes he's not entirely alone on the remote island: a dark spirit haunts Crawford Sound.

It lingers like a shadow in the night.

It watches, and it waits.

The past keepers warned of an inescapable terror, but as the days turn into weeks, Yugi begins to think it's not the ghost he ought to fear.”

Type: Multichap longfic

Word count: 50k+

Rating: M

Warnings: Major character death (Atem is already a ghost)

Status: Complete

Times read: 3

Standout characters/aspects: Worldbuilding!!!! This story is so gorgeously atmospheric

Notes: Please please please read Keep the Light Shining, it’s so good. The horror aspects combined with the romance and mystery aspects are so well-balanced.

Lineament by Zuzeca

Original synopsis: “Once seven, now three. A broken Pendant, a crumbling empire, and tugging at the seams of reality, hints of a sinister power returning. His faith in destiny strained past breaking, newly-crowned-and-deposed Pharaoh Set makes the questionable decision to try and solve the Millennium Puzzle with magic. As it goes with magic, his efforts are rewarded…but not quite in the way he expected.”

Type: Multichap longfic

Word count: 50k+

Rating: M

Warnings: Major character death (Ghost Atem again)

Status: Complete

Other ships: Logicshipping [Priestess Isis/Priest Seto]

Times read: 3

Standout characters/aspects: Set & Isis are very interesting & well-developed characters here.

Notes: Really interesting twist on the whole series. Somewhat of a time travel fic, but in a much more satisfying and less cheesy way than most.

Snake Charmer by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Prompts: ‘Wow, my pet snake looks so cute this morning and I’d be even happier if I actually had a pet snake.’ & ‘You curse under your breath in a foreign language and I know I shouldn’t be turned on but I totally am.’

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 20k+

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 5

Standout characters/aspects: Osiris the snake is an icon

Notes: 100% fluff. Cute snake. Utterly delightful.

Cut Off / Whiskey, No Chaser by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Few people choose a day during the week to drink away their problems at a bar downtown. Most people wait until the weekend, content to simmer with their issues until Friday. Others do it at home with friends, and without worrying about how they're supposed to get home in time for work in the morning. All in all, it's rare that someone walks into a bar on a weeknight at ten-thirty to start drinking.

But that's exactly what happened to Atem.”

Type: Two multichap longfics

Word count: 100k+ combined

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Other ships: Past rivalshipping [Mutou Yuugi/Kaiba Seto]

Times read: 2

Standout characters/aspects: Great way of showing how Atem becomes part of the friend group

Notes: It’s cute! Not InkFlavored’s best work, but all of their stuff is worth reading.

Macchiato Incommunicado by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Prompt: ‘my favorite coffee shop is closed for the day so i have to find somewhere else where i can get my overly-advanced pretentious order and i found the place where you work and now i never use the other place anymore because even though you always serve my drink with a “what the fuck has normal coffee ever done to you”-sigh you're really cute and i'd like to go out with you.’

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 15k+

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 3

Standout characters/aspects: Points to everyone else in this fic for putting up with Yuugi & Atem’s stupid bullshit.

Notes: Pretty good interpretation of the dreaded miscommunication plot and the cliché coffee shop AU.

The First Leaves That Fall by Clydeside

Original synopsis: “When Yugi arrives in Yubari to settle the last of his grandfather’s affairs, he finds a mountain village in quiet decline. Most people have left for the city, buildings are crumbling, and nature grows dense and wild against its outskirts.

But among those who remain, superstition abounds, and they all offer the same advice:

Stay out of the forest.

Yugi, however, is intrigued. By the puzzle of its shifting paths. The riddle of a wind that speaks, if he listens.

And, perhaps most of all, by the stranger who always shows him the way out before dark.

Or: Yugi falls hard for the local cryptid. Not everyone is cool about it.”

Type: Multichapter longfic

Word count: 40k+

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Ongoing

Times read: 1

Standout characters/aspects: Honda & Miho are really great friends, and bonus points for local Shinto priest Bakura, who is as ominous and strange as ever.

Notes: I love this fic!!!! Again, Clyde is the best at writing spooky & atmospheric stories. I can’t wait to see what really happened in Yubari to make the nature spirits (including Atem) so angry.

Chained to You by SajiSpellhart

Original synopsis: “Taking place after the events of Season Zero, all the shadow games happened but Yugi never found out he was possessed by the spirit of the puzzle. Now he's an adult, living on his own, and he starts to notice strange and spooky things happening around his apartment. When he sees his own shadow moving Yugi begins to suspect his new place is haunted. But is this shadow spirit malicious or... kinda sweet?

Yami does a bunch of stupidly sweet domestic shit for Yugi to help take care of him. Expect romance, fluff, self-care, and Puzzleshipping shenanigans.”

Type: Multichapter longfic

Word count: 100k+

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Ongoing

Times read: 1

Standout characters/aspects: Yami is incredibly cute in this fic.

Notes: Really interesting AU where Yuugi never finds out about Atem as a high schooler, and so Season 0-esque shenanigans continue into adulthood.

He Has a Heartbeat by Kaibbage

Original synopsis: “Atem is back, and this time he's living and tangible. As such, Yugi cannot stop touching him - and vice versa.”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 3k

Rating: E

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 10 at least

Standout characters/aspects:

Notes: So cute!!! One of the best Atem Comes Back oneshots out there. Very sweet short little PWP.

Superimposed / Bird Rock Lambchop (Bird Bigger Bird) by Toffeecape

Original synopsis: “Yugi wants his other self to have nice things.”

Type: Series of oneshots + short multichaptered fics

Word count: 70k+ combined

Rating: E/M

Warnings: Some installments mention major character death (but with the caveat that the characters cross over to the Egyptian afterlife), most have no warnings

Status: Complete

Times read: Superimposed probably like 5 times, whole series twice

Standout characters/aspects: Love Yuugi’s urge to provide for Atem, very sweet. I also love the chapter of Like a Stone into a Pond that focuses on Yuugi’s mom’s relationship with Atem.

Notes: This series is sort of YMMV for me. To be entirely honest, the smut gets a little too weird for me in a lot of installments, so I don’t revisit it too often, but the first installment is definitely my favorite, and I love seeing the intimacy between Yuugi & Atem grow while they’re still sharing a body. The 4th installment is my other favorite, as it focuses less on smut and more on character interactions.

Phantom Limb by Killdoll

Original synopsis: “In the hospital after the fire where Yuugi reassembled the Millennium Puzzle, Yuugi and his Other Self have a heart-to-heart.

(Puzzleshipping, set during anime canon, attempted ghost cuddling.)”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 3k

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 5+

Standout characters/aspects: Really great characterization

Notes: Very sweet examination of the aftermath of (the anime version of) the fire.

Pieces of Puzzleshipping by Phoebeus

Original synopsis: “Originally this was where all of my tumblr prompts and random ficlets would come to live, but it's quickly become home to all of my random puzzleshipping fluff, instead. We shall acknowledge it as such until at least one other ship invades!”

Type: Oneshot collection

Word count: 17k+ combined

Rating: E

Warnings: Author Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (I don’t remember anything too triggering in these oneshots besides a safeword use that is immediately respected in chapter 10)

Status: Complete

Times read: 2-3

Standout characters/aspects: To be honest, I don’t remember these individual oneshots all that well, but I love all of Phoebeus’ work.

Notes: Bite-sized and enjoyable fluff!

Getting Rivalzoned (and Learning to Live with It) by Oogenesis

Original synopsis: “Finding out that your best and closest and most infuriatingly attractive rival has come back to life is one thing.

Finding out that he and his former vessel have eyes only for each other - well, that's quite a different matter.”

Type: Short multichapter

Word count: 8k

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Unfinished (seems to be abandoned, but I recall the last chapter working fairly well as an ending, so it’s not too infuriating)

Other Ships: onesided Prideshipping [Atem/Kaiba Seto]

Times read: 3ish

Standout characters/aspects: Just so incredibly funny.

Notes: This is my ideal prideship scenario. Sorry, Kaiba.

Visiting Hours by Oogenesis

Original synopsis: “Kaiba, at Atem's insistence, finally brings Yugi along on one of his visits to the afterlife, and promptly regrets it.”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 1.5k

Rating: T

Warnings: None (possible major character death as Atem has already crossed over to the afterlife)

Status: Complete

Other Ships: One-sided prideshipping [Atem/Kaiba Seto]

Times read: 5ish at least

Standout characters/aspects: Same as the previous fic, just so funny to see Kaiba so deeply jealous while being completely ignored.

Notes: Love how excited to see each other Yuugi & Atem are.

Ours, Not Mine by MagiMevi

Original synopsis: “The spirit found such ease and amusement in simply perusing Yugi's daily memories, and Yugi no longer wanted to just share them with him. He wanted to make them with him – he wanted the spirit to create new memories – he didn't want to just amuse the spirit with the passing fibres of his life – he just – he wanted -

Don't worry about it, partner.”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 5k

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 2-3

Standout characters/aspects: Great exploration of Yuugi’s character

Notes: Yuugi scheming like hell to try to get Atem to live & enjoy himself while in the puzzle is one of my favorite tropes, 10/10.

Take Him (Cut Him Out in Little Stars) by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Most people think of light and silence as comforting things. To Yugi, they're anything but. Atem's mind is tearing itself to pieces and no one understands.

PuzzleJune 2019 (Week 3: Light)”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 5k

Rating: G

Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings (Major character death canon to the end of the manga)

Status: Complete

Times read: 5+

Standout characters/aspects: I love Atem’s talk with Akhenamkhanen.

Notes: Definitely one of the most influential Atem comes back fics to my own work! It’s fabulous, 10/10.

The Seldom Seen by Clydeside

Original synopsis: “Yugi’s soul has gone missing after reassembling the Millennium Puzzle in the fire, leaving the Other Yugi to fill his place.

As he tries to hide the truth from Yugi’s friends and family, he searches for his partner and the scattered pieces of his soul. But without Yugi at his side, he is losing control of the Puzzle’s power over the shadow realm… and the creature it contains.”

Type: Mid-length multichapter

Word count: 45k

Rating: T

Warnings: Major character death (albeit tagged as “only sort of permanent”)

Status: Complete

Times read: 3

Standout characters/aspects: Angst!

Notes: I love any fic that examines Atem’s relationships (or lack thereof) with Yuugi’s friends and family.

Jolly Sailor Bold / Shellfish Tendencies by Kudalyn

Original synopsis: “‘The seas sing for those who are lost, and for those who find as well.’

Atem is a siren/merman and Yugi is a ghost haunting a sunken ship Atem comes across. Atem is intrigued by the ghost, hangs around enough that they start to get to know each other, getting attached, and falling for each other over time. But Yugi’s memories start to fade, as ghosts don’t get to stay forever on the living plane, and Atem has to deal with this loss.

My entry for the YGO Big Bang 2018!

Content Warning of character death and mourning, with reward at the end if you stick through it ;)”

Type: Series of two oneshots

Word count: 15k+ combined

Rating: M

Warnings: Major character death (sort of temporary? It’s complicated lol)

Status: Complete

Times read: 3ish

Standout characters/aspects: Honestly really interesting implications about the origins of mermaids……….

Notes: Super fun twist on a mermaid AU.

Untitled Puzzleshipping Doujinshi by Kaluda

Original synopsis: “This is a doujin I made in 2019 that I decided to post here as well. Inspired by the end of the Dark Side of Dimensions film.”

Type: Short comic

Word count: N/A?

Rating: Unrated (I would say G)

Warnings: None (Major character death canon to manga/anime)

Status: Complete

Times read: 3ish

Standout characters/aspects: Such cute art!!!!!!

Notes: Rare comic example, but it’s posted on ao3, so I’m counting it as a fic. It’s really very sweet & short, go check it out!

Angle of Approach by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “Definition: (in golf) the angle at which the club head strikes the ball. This affects the trajectory the ball will travel and spin.

The only thing Atem hates more than his family’s annual summer vacation is the “family” part. A whole three months away from home, away from friends, and away from freedom. This year, he’s nearly resigned himself to the worst trip he’s ever been on, surrounded by people he couldn’t care less about.

Then he meets Yugi, and decides to make his own fun.”

Type: Multichap longfic

Word count: 130k+

Rating: E

Warnings: No archive warnings apply, general warning for emotional and slight physical abuse by parents, and definitely warning for workplace sexual harassment

Status: Ongoing (Unfinished? Abandoned??? I sure hope not)

Times read: 2

Standout characters/aspects: Yugi is phenomenal in this AU. I’m obsessed with him.

Notes: I love this fic!!!! I usually don’t like fics where Atem is an asshole, but apparently it’s fine if he’s a bottom lmao. Anyway I love seeing Atem very very slowly become a better person against his will, and I’m really hoping Ink_Flavored is still working on this fic. It’s one of my favorite ongoing works.

Dress Up Game by InkFlavored

Original synopsis: “The Mutou family, including the newly resurrected Atem, get invited to a wedding. Neither Yugi nor Atem have anything to wear to the event, but it’s not a big deal. All they have to do is go shopping to pick something out. How bad could it possibly be?”

Type: Two chapter fic

Word count: 25k+

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 3

Standout characters/aspects: Really great attention to detail about Japanese culture. Taught me a lot about traditional Japanese weddings!

Notes: This fic is so cute! Really nice fic that focuses on Atem living life after coming back from the dead.

Await Red to Become Anthracite by Zigur_zig_ah

Original synopsis: “Yuugi, security guard un-extraordinaire, leads a particularly mundane life. He sits in front of a monitor for eight hours a cycle, pretends to concern himself with the safety of five-hundred and thirty-nine Roman coins of no value whatsoever, and occasionally, when work is especially slow, occupies the unenviable position of Duel Monsters champion of the known universe.

But something stalks the perpetual darkness of Proxima-b. A horror from beyond the grave, loosed in a moment of carelessness, has set its hollow, empty sights on Yuugi - and Yuugi, try as he might, can't seem to stay away from it.”

Type: Medium length multichapter fic

Word count: 30k

Rating: M

Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings

Status: Complete

Times read: 1

Standout characters/aspects: Really fun combination of futuristic sci-fi, horror, canon, and ancient Egypt?

Notes: A bit less romance-y than plot-centered, but the way the story unfolds is really fascinating.

Hindsight by Cloudsmachinations

Original synopsis: “Yugi needs to wear glasses. Atem needs to calm the hell down.”

Type: Oneshot

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: T

Warnings: None

Status: Complete

Times read: 3ish

Standout characters/aspects: I love an Atem that is down bad

Notes: So cute tbh

#aka: a rec list for anyone who hates dom atem as much as i do lmao 😅😅#a lot of these are pretty obvious/popular already eg anything by clyde/inkflavored/phoebeus but hey #it's my list & i'm in charge #morgan rambles #my ramblings #yugioh #ygo #yugioh duel monsters #mutou yugi #mutou yuugi #puzzleshipping #atem #yami yugi #blindshipping #fic recs #rec list #yugi mutou #yuugi mutou #yugioh dm

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azureashes · 6 months ago

Text

Bless Me Father, For I Have Sinned

MDNI 18 +

TW: Religious Trauma, Religious Themes, Heavy Fingering, Throat fingering, Priest!Sukuna, gullible Reader, religious manipulation, internalized misogyny, CULTS, oh and cheating! (I forgot about the cheating cuz dude doesn't even get an honorable mention)

This is probably going to be a multichap, as a lot of things have yet to be addressed in this first chapter. Also Sukuna is potentially TOO soft in this first chapter, but he's luring her in first so you know... something, something, honey, vinegar.

Inspired by THIS artwork and THIS playlist.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Rain pelted the glass window panes of the gray buildings with their colored awnings that blurred at the edges of your vision as you swept down the cobblestone street. Lights were blinking out on both sides of the road as the quaint little shops closed up for the night, leaving you increasingly shrouded in darkness.

Gasping for breath, you turned where you stood, taking in your surroundings with a mounting sense of despair. At the end of the road, your eyes caught on a proud building that towered above all others in the square.

A towering edifice of gothic elegance, the church stood with its grand arch soaring into a pointed dome, its dark stone facade gleaming in the rain. Round windows adorned with intricate lattice designs glowed with an ethereal light. Nearby, ivy and dark, lush foliage clung to the walls, and twisted trees framed the entrance, their leaves glistening with raindrops. An ancient oak door stood ajar, warm candlelight flickering from within, casting a golden glow that beckoned you inside, both inviting and ominous, as if whispering secrets of the human soul to those who dared to approach.

You swallowed thickly, craving the warmth you hoped to find within. Your feet moved as if compelled by some unnatural force, and before you could consciously make the decision, you found yourself stepping over the threshold of the ancient building. You stepped into the narthex, where maroon carpeting and gleaming mahogany furniture greeted her.

Catching your breath, you took in the long crimson aisle runner that ran along the length of the nave, leading up to the altar. The altar itself was dominated by a crucifix in such a deep shade of mahogany it seems to waver between red and black. In fact, most of the ornamentation of the sacred area reflected scenes of biblical tales so gruesome and violent that the excessive scenes of bloodshed left an almost pulsing, ethereal red dominating your vision.

There was the reredos, adorned with haunting imagery of saintly martyrdom. You recognized each of them with practiced ease. The central panel depicted Saint Agatha with her severed breasts on a platter, her serene face juxtaposed against the brutality of her martyrdom. To either side, scenes of Saint Lucy with her eyes on a plate and Saint Philomen, with arrows piercing her body and chains constricting her limbs.

There was no romanticization of their scenes of martyrdom in the manner you were accustomed to. Their sacrifices were made apparent in graphic detail and their blood seemed to glow almost hauntingly. Saint Lucy’s eyeless face was turned towards the viewer, as were the other two saints, almost in judgment. Almost as if they were saying something. Reminding you of something.

With a shiver, you turned from the gruesome imagery towards the font of holy water. Swallowing thickly and struggling to regulate your breathing, you dipped your fingers into the water - shuddering inexplicably as you did so - and made the sign of the cross on yourself with a practiced hand.

Then you made your way down the aisle, your black, court heels muffled against the plush runner as you approached, your eyes taking in the black candelabras, the gory visions of Ezekiel depicted on the stained glass windows, the many candles glowing ethereally in impossibly tall candlesticks, many adorned with reliefs of further scenes of martyrdom, depicted once more in such graphic detail that you could not help but stare. You were taken aback that the many relics and artworks depicted mainly women. Female saints and martyrs. Women in worship. You were hard-pressed to find even one man depicted within the church, but could oddly find none.

In addition to the strange adornment, the ominous silence of the church set the hairs at the nape of your neck on end. It was not the usual, hallowed calm you were accustomed to, but the tense silence that followed a gunshot, or the suffocating stillness after the last gasp of death.

You considered turning around and walking right back out, but hesitated. You wanted something different. A new light shed on old beliefs. Some way out of the impossible cage you had been born into. You could not always run from things that varied from the norm that oppressed you.

With a grim expression, you made your way further into the church. Dim candlelight flickered at the edge of your vision and you made towards it, relieved to have found the confessional. It, too, was constructed of the deepest shade of ebony, and stood invitingly in a corner of the area, just before the sacristy beyond which priests prepared for services or otherwise spent their time.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the small chamber door that led to the penitent’s side of the confessional and stepped inside. The overpowering smell of incense surrounded you as soon as you let the door fall shut behind you. It smelled strongly of roses, with a sweetness that could make one sick, but beneath that floral scent, something acrid, almost sulfuric, burned your nostrils.

A kneeler awaited you in the center of the small space, covered with cushioned velvet just at the foot of the confessional grate. At two corners of the room you noted an odd gap between the wall and floor. Almost as if they weren’t quite connected. In fact, with every step you took, it seemed the floor moved ever so slightly with your weight. Was the confessional not set directly on the ground?

You frowned and admonished yourself for the way you had been judging the church ever since you had entered it. Who were you to judge over a house of God? What gave you the audacity, or the right?

Ashamed, you moved towards the confessional grate and interlocked your fingers, kneeling with humility and lowering your head as you struggled to sort out your thoughts. You were suddenly acutely aware of the rain dripping down your hair onto the confessional floor and down the back of your neck. The wafting incense made it hard to think straight, bringing deeply buried feelings dangerously close to the surface.

“Bless me father” you said, your voice demure - if not downright miserable - “for I have sinned.” You got the words out with difficulty, the pain in your heart overpowering you anew, as the warmth of the confessional started to become stifling, the rain on your skin feeling almost sticky.

“ Welcome , my child,” the answer was a smooth purr, deep and dark and sinfully enticing. You started in surprise. You had never known a priest to sound like that. “What brings you to me today?” The words that followed did nothing to relieve the unholy effect his dark baritone had had on you and you flushed, deeply ashamed.

Recentering yourself, you focused inward. On your pain, your torment, your sense of estrangement. “I’m struggling with…” what sin was it? What could describe your inability to fall into line? “...pride,” you finished finally.

“I feel guilty about wanting to be seen,” tears pooled unbidden in your eyes, you tried to blink them away but new ones replaced them faster than you could rid yourself of them. Taking a deep, shuddering breath you lowered your forehead against your clasped hands. The tears dripped slowly down the length of your nose, you were helpless to stop them. You took a deep, tormented breath and continued.

“I feel guilty about wanting to be loved and cherished.” You choked the words out on a low, hushed sob, “I feel guilty about…” but no more words would come as emotion overwhelmed you. Your family. Their expectations. Drowning beneath them. Always less than, less than, less than… Less than your brothers, less than your father, less than your fiancé. Why could you not be happy with less? Why could you not be like your mother, blank-faced and passive and content? Why did you want to be adulated and adored like your brother? Why were you only loved when you lowered your head, when you made yourself small, when you reduced yourself to nothing? Why could you not be happy that way?

You thought of your fiancé, of the bruises that ached, still, on your shoulder blade, on your arms, on your thighs…

Why could you not submit?

The incense was choking you, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t breathe. You sucked in one breath after another, but they did not seem to fill your lungs as image after image replayed in your mind. Your fiancé’s leer, your father’s frown of disapproval, your brother’s smirk… Your professor’s effusive disappointment as you dropped out of college, your boss’s concern as you quit your job… the blank face that looked back at you in the mirror every morning when you awoke.

Why had your obedience not brought your contentment?

You lost sense of your surroundings as you fought for breath, fought to get a handle on your tears. You fell from the kneeler with a clatter as you scrambled backwards, towards the wall as you clutched at your chest, wheezing, trying to get your lungs to take in air - or to expel it. You weren’t sure which they were supposed to be doing.

The small, cramped confessional seemed to be spinning around you as the incense only further dulled your senses. You were going to faint here. And it was going to end up in the news. And your family would be humiliated. And it would all be your fault.

Everything, everything, everything. You were to blame for all of it. Because you were cursed. You could only be good by fighting every natural instinct you had. By destroying yourself. It was the only way to prevent your existence from tainting your loved ones, from harming them, because you were…

The door to the confessional swung outward and your eyes caught on the man - no, the priest - beyond. He towered over you, his hulking figure filling out the small door frame until he flooded your vision. His body was powerful, well-muscled even through his robes, his eyes were piercing and perceptive, as if they saw right through you - to the very center of your core. He wore a shock of pink hair, black at the roots and there were deep shadows on his face, or were those black markings? You couldn’t tell. He was devastatingly handsome all the same, and seemed far too young to be a priest.

“ Well ,” again, that smooth baritone that made you feel so very small - but in a way that you found yourself liking. A way that made you feel almost safe. “You’re quite a sight.” There was amusement in his eyes as he beheld you, even in your predicament.

“Now, now…” his voice was distant, but oddly comforting. It had a hypnotic quality to it, a reassuring one. “Breathe.”

“Slowly now,” he admonished gently. And you did as he asked, sucking in one shuddering breath before releasing it shakily. Again. Again. Again. Slowly, sensation returned and your vision cleared along with your awareness that the handsome priest - whose handsome face matched his body in every way - had crossed over to your side of the confessional. It was little wonder, given the way you had nearly collapsed but it was embarrassing nonetheless.

You chanced another glance at him, but he continued to observe you silently. It took you a moment to realize that he was waiting for you to continue. To hear what you wished to say. And wanting to be heard was strange and foreign. Your tongue tied itself up in knots as he stood there, looking down on you. There was something different about him, something… if not divine, then certainly supernatural.

It was not at all the same, making your confession to his face, there was no longer the sense of anonymity that you liked to hide behind. But instead, a sense of connection and vulnerability that grounded you unexpectedly.

Reflecting on the pain that had driven you to this place, it all seemed to center on one singular axis. Your own inability to comply with the wishes of those who held the reins of your life in their hands. Although you knew that was what your faith asked of you, you found yourself rebelling and resenting your lot in life again and again. And every time, it invited conflict and pain into your world. Every time you ended up hurting those you cared for.

“Why can I not obey?” the tears streamed down your face. You had only ever wanted to be good. Only ever wanted to do good by those you cared for. Only ever wanted to be loved. “Why can I not submit? Why can’t I be good ?”

The strange priest lowered himself towards you, his wrists resting loosely on his knees as he sat back on his haunches. “Submitting is not so very hard,” he murmured, his voice casting its now-familiar spell on you. “I could teach you.”

There was a look in his eye that seemed to swallow you up, seemed to burn you alive. This priest knew something. Something that would help you make sense of everything. Maybe he could save you. Maybe he could help you learn to be at peace with yourself.

He reached out towards you and as his hand drew closer, you realized with a sudden jolt how inappropriate this encounter was. How wrong it was for him to join you on the penitent’s side in this intimate space that barely had room for one. How untoward it was for him to be reaching out to touch you.

But you had spent your whole life wishing someone would cross beyond your walls, spent all your years wanting to be touched and seen. And with the way he was looking at you, with the utmost confidence, with an overpowering self-assurance, you could not help but want the distance between you to shrink into nothingness.

“Submitting to someone,” he purred, his outstretched fingers grazing your cheek, sending a thrill through you. “Should come naturally. It shouldn’t have to be forced. Do you understand?”

You were beginning to. The way his voice washed over you, the way his gaze set you alight with the intoxication of being truly seen, you thought you could vaguely understand what he meant. You nodded, even as the sheen of tears in your eyes reflected the surrounding candlelight, even as your cheeks glistened with their wetness.

“There now,” his lips curved into a half-smile even as his eyes narrowed, but he did not remove his hand, continuing his gentle caress. “Isn’t that better?”

“I’m cursed,” you choked out in a hushed whisper. “I’m the evil one.”

A spark of something went through his scarlet eyes. As if he had been playing with you up until this point, the way you might play with a stray kitten on the street but now something had shifted. But he recovered, and the fingers that had been trekking lazily up along the side of your face moved to cup your cheek.

“Is that so?” there was something dark in his voice. Something curious. Something angry.

“I only bring them grief,” you squeeze your eyes shut, trying to block out the disinhibiting effects of the overpowering incense. Trying to stop yourself from leaning into his palm. Nuzzling it. Kissing it.

“I can not contain myself. I can not be humble and obey. I can not be as they want me to be. As our faith requires me to be .” You shuddered at the admission, your internal torment causing your shoulders to hunch over as if you wished to cave in on yourself. “I have prayed every day, wept every night…”

You lift your tortured gaze, awash anew with fresh tears, to his contemplative crimson irises. Red? His eyes were red? Why had you not noticed before? Or was that merely the glow of the many candles reflecting all the red furnishings in the church?

You suck in a deep breath and despite yourself, you reach out to hold onto his wrist, as if begging him not to remove his hand. “Please…” you plead, your voice wavering, “Can you save me?”

It was wrong, you knew. For no one person could bring salvation. You would need to find it yourself, through prayer, through the scripture, through acts of penance… But he didn’t seem like a normal priest. You dared to hope.

His hand moved further back, his fingers digging into your wet hair, his hold curving around the back of your neck, lifting your gaze up higher as he kneeled between your legs, crushing the pleats on your long, gray skirt. His eyes skirted over you then and a fire flamed to life on your skin wherever those eyes lingered. On your white blouse buttoned up to the very top, the leather belt with a golden buckle that hugged your waist. The pearls at your ears, the thin chain around your neck. Your gleaming watch, your designer purse, the band on the fourth finger of your left hand.

“But of course I can,” his breath whispered over your lips as he spoke and a sense of almost crushing relief swept through you, making you shiver. He could save you? You could be saved? There was a way to find peace with your situation without abandoning your faith?

His thumb caressed your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes again and he continued, that dark voice sending low vibrations through you. You knew something was wrong about this scenario, knew that you should not be so close to him, knew that there was nothing priestly about this arrangement. But you could not bring yourself to care, for in mere minutes, he had given you more hope than you had had in decades.

He was different, but you needed different. You craved different.

“I can save you,” he repeated, drawing your thoughts back to the present moment. To his face lingering a breath above yours. “But I will need a token of your loyalty.”

“A token?”

Perhaps you should have known then, that priests did not operate with tokens. That they did not strike deals. That there was, in fact, a very different manner of creature that promised impossible things and demanded exorbitant payment.

But there was nothing you would not give in that moment. “What? What can I…” the incense in the chamber with you was heady, perhaps even intoxicating. The pink mist wafting between your faces made it impossible to consider what the right course of action was.

The priest glanced at your hand, resting on the floor beside you and you turned to look at it as well. “My ring…?” you stammered, and lifted your hand without a second thought to remove the ring. You could claim to have lost it, your family could easily afford another. Your fiancé would be angry, but it would not be worth breaking up with you over.

“Not the ring,” Sukuna dismissed with a click of his tongue. “Your request is quite unique, I’m sure you know. The manner of service you require is not something an ordinary priest could offer you, yes?”

Eyes wide, you nodded in understanding. Of course a ring could not pay for your salvation. “Then what…?”

The thumb that had been grazing over your cheek now moved towards your lips, brushing along the length of your lower lip once, twice, in slow, languorous motions as if feeling every groove and every inch of skin.

“Give me your time.” There was a sense of finality within the demand, a sense of foreboding. But it only served to heighten your delirious sense of hope. After all, a payment made brought you that much closer to the end you hoped to achieve, didn’t it?

“H- how much?” you wondered, not sure at all how you would be able to give him your time. Would he ask for years? The rest of your life? Would you wake up from a coma when he had taken the time he asked of you?

“Ten minutes,” was the cool answer, his eyes still wandering over you, taking in the sight of you like a project in the making.

“Ten minutes?” you repeated dumbly. Well, that was nothing. That was neither years, nor a lifetime, nor anything of consequence.

“Consider it a down payment,” he smiled at you again, that strange, self-assured smile that felt like a sticky trap you did not mind wandering into.

“Yes!” you replied breathlessly, not even waiting to think about it. Ten minutes of your life to be at peace, to be loved, to stop being the evil that brought anger and resentment wherever you went? You would have given him ten years if he had asked for them.

Somewhere in the distance, a thud sounded as the church doors slammed shut and locked themselves from within. A grin split the priest’s lips, revealing sharp canines. “Very well then,” he said smoothly, a self-satisfied expression on his features. “These next ten minutes,” the thumb that had been tracing your lips stiled suddenly, before moving between them and entering your mouth without warning. “Belong to me. ”

You choked on a gasp as his thumb idled past your teeth briefly and then pressed down on your tongue. Wide eyes flew towards his own, but his eyes were hooded, his face impassive as he observed you.

“Ten minutes,” he reminded you.

So that was what he had meant. Why had you thought he meant some sort of fairytale exchange of life forces and power? Why had you assumed your interaction had had some touch of the supernatural?

Perhaps you had better run. Maybe you had gotten yourself wrapped up in something way out of your depth.

“You will need to learn ,” he intoned, as his other hand moved towards your collar. “To obey.” The first button of your blouse popped open beneath his fingers, as ready and willing as you had been when swearing your time to him.

“To submit.”

Your own words came back to you, and with them, the sense of hysteria that had accompanied them. You despised the words. Obedience and submission. They filled you with a blinding rage, a murderous fury. And to hear them repeated back to you now reminded you of how impossible they were. How hateful.

As his left hand continued its journey down the front of your blouse, each button falling open at his touch with practiced ease, you blinked away tears and tried to swallow the saliva that was pooling in your mouth but found that you could not.

“Mm-mm-mm,” he shook his head, “that will not do.” He moved in closer, his thumb shifting in your mouth as he did so, almost massaging your tongue.

When his lips were right at your ear, he spoke again, “submission is the easiest thing, little one.”

You wanted to believe him, but conflicting emotions rioted in your stomach. Your fiancé, your angry family, your misery - and the hope that he could change everything. In exchange for these ten minutes.

His left hand cupped your breast and your eyes fell shut at the touch as a gasp escaped your throat. The sensation was intoxicating. Nerve endings sang with pleasure. His hands were so big and warm, his touch addictive. You found yourself arching your back despite yourself as you allowed the sea of sensation to sweep you away.

“I’m going to teach you something about submission, sweetheart,” there was that familiar, sinful voice in your ear. “And after these…” he paused as if glancing at a clock, “eight and a half minutes, you’re going to understand something about it that you didn’t before.” Then his teeth were on the curve of your ear nipping at them with surprising tenderness, his tongue following all the way down to your earlobe before his mouth ventured further, his teeth finding the vein that pulsed at the side of your neck. His tongue marked the length of it before his mouth closed in on it, teeth biting into your skin as he sucked at the soft and supple flesh.

What was he…? You couldn’t think. You didn’t want to.

His other hand had shifted to your right breast now, repeating its ministrations, sending shivers through your body. An index finger journeyed lazily between the two mounds, hooking into the front of your bra and tugging it down until your breasts sprang free. The sudden rush of cold air made your nipples perk up, as if begging his attention and he complied, first kneading your breasts with increased force, always pushing just an inch past what you were willing to accept at that moment. Enough to keep you on edge, not enough to make you push him away. He pinched your nipples and toyed with them until helpless mewls escaped your mouth, muffled by his thumb. You could feel him smile against your neck.

How much time was left? You didn’t know. You weren’t sure what you were hoping for… a swift end to this encounter or that time would somehow stretch out for you, extending this moment eternally.

He drew back slightly and you opened your eyes as if summoned by him.

“Open your mouth,” there was none of the coaxing tenderness he had shown you earlier. This was a command, unyielding and expectant.

You obeyed unthinkingly and watched as he cocked his head to the side, his gaze fixed on the inside of your mouth. It was so odd, and you felt terribly self-conscious, but you could not bring yourself to think too clearly while his other hand was still working its magic on you.

Instead of his thumb, he now inserted two fingers into your mouth. His left hand paused briefly, to smooth your blouse from your shoulders, and the touch of his hand running along your upper arm, though chaste, sent a shiver down your spine.

“Suck.” A simple, unmistakable order.

Your cheeks burned in humiliation, your mind clearing a bit now that his left hand had busied itself with your clothing. You wanted to say something, to push him off and pull on your clothing and storm out of the so-called church. But on the other hand… you wanted to know what would happen if you did as he asked. You wanted to know what was waiting for you at the end of this encounter.

You wanted his eyes to light up with approval when you pushed past your own inhibitions.

So you closed your lips around his thick fingers, and you sucked. They tasted of salt, of the incense that surrounded you, and they tasted of sin. You closed your eyes, relishing the taste of him, even as his fingers inched towards the back of your throat.

His left hand, meanwhile, meandered down the length of your leg reaching for the hem of your skirt, but you hardly took notice until it had slipped underneath it and smoothed its way up your inner thigh.

Then your eyes shot open in shock and dread. You gave him a pleading look but he only shook his head with a small smirk. “Ten minutes, we agreed.” Clicking his tongue as if disappointed, he added, “Or are you calling off our deal?”

Before you could answer his fingers inched further towards the back of your throat, and tears burned at the edges of your vision as you tried not to gag. He grinned down at you, positively relishing your conflicted expression and the satisfaction on his face made you forget all about your own discomfort. You licked at his fingers, sucking them in deeper, trying to prove to him how compliant you could be – and then his left hand found the juncture of your thighs.

A thick, lazy finger idled up your slit through your damp underwear and you shivered. Saliva spilled from the sides of your mouth as your jaw went slack at the sensation. Fuck ten minutes. You wanted everything.

As if hearing your thoughts, he pulled your panties to the side and buried his fingers into your hot, wet folds. Slicking up and down along your slit.

“My,” he chuckled, “isn’t this easy?”

You could only whimper in response, as the fingers of his right hand teased down your throat, backing off ever so slightly, only to plunge back down again. You gagged, despite yourself, and your body shivered in response. He allowed you to recover momentarily, only to then continue his ministrations undisturbed.

His fingers found your clitoris, tracing lazy circles around it, stoking a fire of sensation until you wanted to weep with need. Your hands reached out unthinkingly, to hold him, to feel him and they came to rest on his shoulders. Ten minutes, he had said. Surely, that time was almost up. He wasn’t going to leave you hanging, was he? You focused on his fingers again, on sucking on them the way he had told you to. If you did what he said, he would reward you, wouldn’t he?

Sure enough, as soon as you redoubled your efforts, he plunged the fingers of his left hand into your warm cavern. It was a tight fit. Your fiancé had only ever entered you the one time you wanted desperately to forget. But this was nothing like that. There was no painful friction, no panic. You were positively boneless. Pudding in his hands. He slipped in and out of you easily, as if your core welcomed him. As if he were quite at home. Even as his thick fingers stretched you out, you cherished the discomfort. The feeling of your walls stretching for him, accommodating him. His practiced fingers slid against your inner walls, exploring you thoroughly until they found a spongy patch of flesh that had you moaning against the fingers that were now knuckle deep in your throat.

He turned his head to the side, again, as if looking at a clock somewhere you couldn’t see. And in that brief moment, completely at the mercy of his hands, all pride and dignity forgotten - time stood still for one brief moment as you took in his side profile, illuminated by distant candlelight. His sharp nose, his bold jawline, his expressive, powerful eyes. And then the moment passed and his gaze returned to you, and again, you felt like a morsel in the jaws of a powerful predator. The sensation was positively thrilling.

All idleness and teasing forgotten, he doubled his pace. His fingers slamming in and out of you with something bordering on cruelty – or it would have bordered on cruelty, if it wasn’t making you see stars. You wanted to say something, to moan, to scream, but his right hand fucked your throat at an identical pace and you felt entirely like an animal spitroasted over a fire.

“There now,” he hummed, breathless, eyes gleaming at the sight of you so undone, “you’re almost there.”

Your body felt rattled with the force of his thrusts and you pulled up your knees without quite knowing why, wanting to feel him more deeply. Your eyes shut as the feeling he had been weaving over you intensified to the point of being painful. Something powerful was building up, ready to engulf you, ready to destroy you.

And you would so love to be destroyed by his hands.

“ Good girl ,” he murmured into your ear as you clung to his chest, positively delirious with pleasure. His voice, that voice , that you would likely never get used to, settled over you like the most wicked of magic. The two words swept over you like an unbreakable spell. You sucked in three quick breaths in succession, and then you came undone. Moaning against his hand, you trembled from head to toe as waves of pleasure crashed through you mercilessly. And even then he did not stop, still burying his fingers into you, only to pull them out and slam them back in, fucking you through your orgasm until it bordered on torture, until your walls clung to him as desperately as your fingers clung to his robes. Liquid gushed from you, dirtying your skirt and pooling on the confessional floor. Only then did he remove both of his hands and settled back to observe you, panting through your orgasm, spittle dribbling from your lips.

You fell back against the wall, your eyes fluttering closed as you fought for breath. Your hands hung limply at your sides, and one knee was still drawn to your chest as your other leg stretched out at an odd angle.

Your throat ached, but you missed the taste of him already. Your body sang with happiness, endorphins rushing through you. You had never felt so alive.

“Heh,” he eased back slightly, and ran a hand through his hair. The sight of him was intoxicating. The small smirk, the mischief in his eyes, the proud cheekbones. You couldn’t tell if he had used the hand that had been halfway down your throat or the other one, but by the looks of it, he didn’t care either way.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, willing yourself to regain some composure. On trembling hands, you pulled away from the wall and struggled to straighten out your appearance, avoiding his gaze. You tugged the hem of your skirt back down over your knees and winced as you felt the wetness between your thighs. Your fingers fluttered towards your blouse, fumbling in your haste to button yourself up again as shame washed over you. What had you done?

You glanced at the ring gleaming on your finger as your fingers flew over the buttons of your blouse. You needed to put this to rights. You needed to do something to dispel the awkwardness that lingered in the air.

You cleared your throat, chancing another glance at him as you smoothed your hair back behind your ears. Open amusement danced across his features at your discomfort and a blush burned across your cheeks.

“Right, well…” you glanced at the fluids that had gathered on the confessional floor and winced, reaching for your bag. “I’ll clean that up.”

“Leave it,” he dismissed lazily, and you abandoned your fruitless search for a tissue or a disinfectant wipe.

He squatted before you, still, an elbow resting on his knee, his chin resting on his knuckles as he watched you flounder in embarrassment.

“ What have we learned ?” was the question he posed. The tone of his voice, like a teacher speaking with a prized student, had you tripping over yourself, wanting to deliver the right answer even though you weren’t quite certain you had understood the question.

You paused, suddenly brought back to the heat of the moment that had passed between you. The ten minutes that had turned your world on its head.

“Learned…?”

I’m going to teach you something about submission, sweetheart… you’re going to understand something about it that you didn’t before…

You bit your lip, flushing even more deeply as you recalled his earlier words. What had you learned? There was no denying that you had submitted to him, been driven to obey him. Even going so far as to want to prove your obedience… You cringed. It was embarrassing.

But he did not seem to look down on you for it, even as he went on observing you amiably. Enjoying the expressions that flashed across your features as your mind rioted, dashing from one train of thought to another until they inevitably crashed.

Submitting to him hadn’t required conscious thought. It hadn’t required effort. It was the simplest thing, like a base instinct written into your DNA.

You glanced up at him again, his smirk widening as he saw the realization dawn on your face.

“It’s… not hard,” you admitted in a nervous whisper.

“Come again?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or not. Teasing you seemed to be his default state.

You cleared your throat. “It wasn’t hard,” you repeated, louder this time.

“Not hard?” he tutted, “I think you can do better than that.”

You swallowed, glancing over his shoulder where still no one had appeared. Was there anyone else in this church at all? You thought about what the two of you had done, how loud you had been and embarrassment threatened to overwhelm you.

“It was easy,” you confessed finally. “It felt…” you closed your eyes, recalling the sensation, the moment you had chosen to put all thoughts aside and put your trust in him. “Natural,” you concluded finally, confused even as you said it.

“And why was that?” he prompted, not yet letting up.

You bit your lower lip, missing the way the priest’s eyes darted towards your mouth as you did so, and contemplated what could possibly have been different about this particular moment, that made it so easy to yield to this strange priest whereas giving even an inch to the men in your life felt like dragging a knife through your veins.

Now it was your turn to consider him, cocking your head to the side as you took him in. He was strong. Physically, mentally. Confident. Whatever happened, he looked like he could handle the fallout. From the moment you had met, he had given you his complete and utter attention. Listened to you. Taken your concerns seriously…

It was him. He was different.

You averted your gaze, then. Not knowing what to make of that information.

“I suppose it depends on the man.” By the time you realized you had spoken aloud, it was too late. Your face burned all the way up to your ears, utterly mortified.

“Hmm,” the priest hummed, finally rising to his full height and holding out a hand to help you to your feet as well. “Surely, our Lord and Savior would not require you to submit to and obey an unworthy man, wouldn’t you agree?”

Again, that seductive voice, saying things you had always longed to hear.

“But aren’t we meant to obey… the men in our lives?” Confusion furrowed your brow as you dusted off your skirt, neatly sidestepping the wet floor as he led you out of the confessional, the loose floorboards creaking under your weight as he did so.

“I think…” the crimson-eyed priest purred, sinful temptation in his voice, “if you were meant to obey them, then you would want to, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you have a natural inclination to obey the ones you were meant to obey?”

You froze, your gaze entranced by his proud lips as he spoke. You had never felt a natural inclination to follow anyone. Not until today.

“But I…” you lowered your gaze. You were going back to your family, to your fiancé. If anything, this realization only made things more difficult. You left your protest unspoken as he led you back the way you had come, down the nave and towards the church doors.

“Fret not,” he smiled, bringing the knuckles of your hand up to his lips and pressing a brief kiss to them. “I did agree to save you, didn’t I?”

You blinked, and then nodded slowly, daring to hope. He had said he would save you. This was only the beginning. Surely, by the time he was through with you, you would have no more doubts.

“Come to the service on Sunday,” he lifted the latch and opened the church door, revealing that the rain had stopped and gentle moonlight glistened on the wet pavestones.

“I go to church with my parents on Sundays,” your brow furrowed as you turned towards him, reluctant to leave his presence for reasons you could not explain, even to yourself. There was no possible way to explain to your parents why you were suddenly visiting a different church.

“So you do,” he agreed smoothly, as his hand found the small of your back. “But this Sunday, you’re coming here.”

There it was again. That inexplicable pull. The desire to do as he asked, the certainty that it would be worth it.

Your eyes sought his, wondering what lingered in their depths, even as a raised brow dared you to deny him. You should probably feel guilty about what had happened, but you could not summon the emotion. Nothing about it felt impure. He was helping you understand the tenets of your faith, wasn’t he? And you did feel like you understood things a little better now. Far from feeling guilty, all you felt was an overwhelming sense of relief, an intoxicating feeling of not being alone.

“I’ll be here,” you promised, although you did not quite know how you would manage it.

You turned towards the steps, not wanting to outstay your welcome, and floated down the three short steps to the main road, acutely aware of his eyes on you. You hesitated on the last step, and turned back towards him suddenly, where he stood shrouded in the shadows, limned in the light of the candles behind him.

“What’s your name… Father?” You added the proper address as an afterthought, almost having forgotten that he was a priest.

A small smirk curled at the corner of his lips, likely because of your late addition, and when he spoke, the name washed over you, settling in your heart like a key turning in a lock.

“Ryomen Sukuna.”

#Sukuna x Reader #jjk fanfic #reader x sukuna #writing #dark #church au

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memorizingthedigitsofpi · 1 month ago

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I get what your saying about oneshots but what if my story NEEDS context? what then??

Some stories do need context, but I think it's worth taking the time to investigate whether yours actually does or not.

The wonderful thing about fanfic in general, and posting on AO3 in particular, is that your readership is already familiar with the characters themselves and the canon setting. But not only that! They're also aware of popular tropes, other canon settings, the ways in which stories can be told.

Do you need to write the context? Or can you provide the context with the metadata on your story? Do you need to show your characters getting together, or can you just tag it "established relationship"? Do you need to explain that you're taking the characters in a different direction from canon? Or can you just say "post-s03e10 canon divergence"?

Do your readers need to know all of the details about how the characters got to where they are, doing what they're doing? Or can they figure that part out for themselves and just pick up with the story in progress? Maybe you give them a little "previously on..." type of author's note or summary to sketch in the basics and then just dive right in?

A lot of the time when people think they need to write the context around a (potential) oneshot, they don't necessarily mean that their future reader needs to know how the story got to this point. What they really mean is that they, as the author, need to figure that out. Maybe it's because you haven't quite got them in the right emotional place in your own head yet. Maybe it's because you're still working out their motivations.

Sure, that context might end up in the finished story, but it doesn't necessarily have to if you'd rather write something shorter.

I also use the term "oneshot" a lot when a story could also be a twoshot or a 5+1 or whatever other format. I think I have a bad habit of saying "multichap" when I mean "longfic." The two really aren't synonyms after all. I have a work that's 36 chapters, but it's only 45K words (a length that isn't typically considered "long"). I've broken 100K exactly once in my life, and that work also had over 100 chapters. Some other writer probably could have written the same story in 5 chapters that were 20 times as long as mine.

If you've already got a few stories out there, whatever their length may be, you can also use them to do the heavy lifting for you. I've done that so. many. times. I want this pairing in this sort of situation so that I can have them act out this particular scene? Well, let's see if any of my existing fics provide a universe that would work well. If so, I can turn a single fic into a series or turn a oneshot into a multichap.

I'm the kind of author that makes people subscribe to completed works, but hey - whatever helps you get the story out and onto the page. No one's ever complained about it to my (virtual) face.

This is a very long answer to a very short question, but all I'm getting at is that it can be really useful to figure out what you want to get out of a story. Do you enjoy writing epics? Then don't let me stop you. But if you wish you could just write that one scene or a half an episode or a slice of life or a series of unfortunate events - you can do that too.

There are so many more ways to write a story than just a novel. It's worth trying some of them out.

#you got me all philosophical anon #sorry about the massive response lol

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inexplicablymine · 1 year ago

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Seven Sentences Sunday Monday

I am currently on the tarmac in an airplane to do a short term move across the ocean for a work project… So I am a little harried (on mobile) and a lot excited for both this move and all of the INSANE snippets yesterday.

As a little treat for all the amazing words I was fed here is the first (slightly nsfw) look at my multichap magical realism soulmate au “Mind Over Matter”

Alex’s stomach plummets out of his ass and settles somewhere in the southern hemisphere, about three thousand miles from where he is currently nursing his only drink of the night.

He scrutinizes the image in front of him, a prince and a first daughter, twirling around on a croquette floor inside a Swarovski laden venue that inexplicably cost enough to feed a medium sized country if the seventy-five thousand pound cake is anything to go by.

It’s a waltz in 3/4 time, and Alex’s fingers twitch at an approximation of the one-two-three step that he perfected through one-too-many lessons on royal etiquette with Zahra in the last three months in preparation for propriety at this “event of the century.”

Propriety is the last thing on his mind in this very moment.

Because tell him why the fuck Mr. Straight- and-Narrow isn’t thinking about June right now.

Instead, Alex can hear, clear as a bell, with more lucidity than he has ever heard anyone’s thoughts before that Henry, yes the god damn Prince of England, does not want to have his arms around June.

Instead, he’d much rather they were gripping Alex’s head, hands tugging on tousled curls as he pulls Alex onto his cock.

Well… I’ll leave you with that to ruminate on while I disappear across the ocean till Wednesday to give you more <3

Thank you to the amazing lovelies who all tagged me with your pretty words @kiwiana-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @sherryvalli @indomitable-love @orchidscript @dumbpeachjuice @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @cha-melodius @leojfitz @songliili @wordsofhoneydew @14carrotghoul @happiness-of-the-pursuit @onthewaytosomewhere @rockyroadkylers @firenati0n @cultofsappho @suseagull04 @read-and-write- @affectionatelyrs @leaves-of-laurelin @indestructibleheart

And now for a few more (but also pls open tag I want to see the words) (I know it’s late you can just use it for Wednesday ;)))) @rmd-writes @matherines @saintlynomenclature @anchoredarchangel @onward--upward @daisymae-12 @heybuddy-drabbles @lizzie-bennetdarcy @tintagel-or-cockleshells @magicandarchery @gay-flyboys @gayrootvegetable @sparklepocalypse

#wip: mind over matter #soulmate au #magical realism au #firstprince wip #rwrb wip #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #the usual suspects #mind reading #well … hearing others thoughts #you get the gist ;))#inexplicablymine wip #inexplicablymine writes

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the-masked-ram · 8 months ago

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Never Late, Never On Time- Togame x GN!Reader drabble

A/N: this is the sfw festival drabble for @ficsforgaza sponsored by @sophiawhite0066 thanks so much for the sponsor and sorry for the slow post!

@interstellar-inn

Reminder I still have a lot of fics for gaza to available, tons of drabbles multichaps, and a couple drabble series. If you are interested in seeing a specific fandom I write for let me know and I might add a drabble to donation pile (this is not a request invitation)

CW: sfw, literally this is rare pure fluff from me(not even a kiss)

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The warmth of the night was unusual for fall, the humidity not necessarily as uncommon. However, neither was necessarily unwelcome. It was easy to slip into the festival mood with the heat and the sparkling lanterns and lights strung through the stalls. The smell of sweetened soy sauce for dango mixed wonderfully with the salt of the more savory offerings like meat skewers and dried squid. It was hard not to let your senses pull you into the wonderland waiting just in front of you.

But you forced yourself to hang back, forced yourself to wait. You balanced carefully on the geta you were not used to, and for a moment you were jealous of Togame who would be used to this atmosphere and the clothing that came with it. Jo, the man you were meeting here, and just the thought had your fingers tightening in the light silk of your yukata. You were honestly glad you had forgone the under-robes you would normally wear for fall because tonight was too hot, and you were too nervous. You’d have sweated through the layers within moments.

You frowned as you checked the time and realized Togame was making you wait again. He was only five minutes late, but it was just so him. He would show up with one minute to spare before it rolled into fifteen minutes, spouting some bullshit about how he couldn’t be truly late until that minute hand ticked into the fifteen zone. You rolled your eyes even as you smirked, because though this was your first date together, nothing had truly changed.

You were looking at some masks when you felt the presence at your back, when a hand that had begun to grow familiar with the subtle brushes you'd been experiencing the last few weeks, settled into yours. His fingers tangled with yours, and you took a steadying breath as your lungs seized and heart thrashed.

“Hello, Jo,” you whispered.

“Hey, darling,” he responded, the smirk audible in his lazy voice. “Wait long?”

His words were barely a sentence, all slurred in his usual way that showed he had hardly any energy for anything that wasn’t fighting. Yet here he was, looking at you with those sleepy and adoring eyes as he slowly blinked life back into them. He’d found time in his napping schedule to spend on you yet again. Like always.

The thought did anything but calm your rebellious chest. Instead, everything inside it seemed to shudder as you looked at him back and felt a swooping pleasure take over your gut.

“Think it was ten minutes this time,” you said with a pout that was fighting to unfurl into a grin.

“Not late,” he responded as if he knew the thoughts you were entertaining just moments before.

That smile you’d been holding back finally took hold, turning your puffy lower lip smoother as your mouth curled. He returned the expression, though his was relaxed and half-assed that look in his eyes, however, was anything but. The one that both pinned you down and raised you higher. You breathed, taking in his scent of amber musk and the sugary bubbles of Ramune that always seemed to cling to him.

“If that’s what you say,” you answered with a laugh.

Those calloused fingers that you had grown to recognize grew tighter as he drew you closer. This was a first date, but so many things were unknown were Togame. Would he rush this? Would you be the reason he quickened his pace? You looked at him with wide and affectionate eyes and his gaze flickered down to your smiling lips.

No, he wouldn’t, but not because of his relaxed nature. There was plenty of heated desire festering beneath the surface of his green eyes. He wouldn’t hurry it along because he wanted the ache growing so sweetly in his chest to bloom until he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to own everything about you and, if that meant stringing those things he wanted to do for you, to do to you, out just a bit longer then he would. He was used to taking it slow and though everything in him screamed to take your soft waist in his wide grip and kiss you senseless now, he would make you need him with your heart and mind long before he claimed your body. Since you’d already stolen all of him.

“C’mon, I saw some dango over there,” he tilted his chin toward a stall.

“Shouldn’t we have something more like dinner,” you chided but followed him with a laugh that lit up your entire face.

It was a laugh that would rival the fireworks the two of you watched later on in the night, chomping away at taiyaki as you sat on the edge of the river and pointed out your favorites. Even though your hand was busy the one clasped in his never left it the entirety of the night. Neither of you spoke about why, neither of you told each other that you were desperate for every scrap of a second to last a little longer in each other’s company. And for once, as Togame stood on your doorstep with his hands finally deep in his old Shishitoren jacket, he wished he hadn’t been ten minutes late. Those ten minutes now felt like an eternity. Maybe you could break his habit of never being on time. You and your firework eyes.

#togame jo #togame jo x reader #gn!reader #wind breaker #drabble #fanfic

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lale-txt · 5 months ago

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Fic authors self rec!♡ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

Melk sweet (´⌣`ʃƪ) thank you, i really enjoyed thinking about this! i also added commentary to it because i think everyone should swoon more over their own works!!

𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐇 ➻ Osamu x f!reader, multichapter (ongoing), sfw

Soft Launch is my baby, my everything, the one fic that is currently turning my whole writing and how i feel about it upside down. i was very hesitant to start it bc i worried i'd overwhelm myself but the complete opposite happened? it's like i shook off the shackles i've put on myself for the longest time and it's just really freeing to indulge in this. i think it shows in my writing, too.

𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 ➻ Akaashi x f!reader, multichapter (ongoing), sfw

Replica was kinda born from Soft Launch. it went from "oh no, one ongoing multichap fic is enough, it's better to focus on just one project and finishing it first" to "fuck but i really like this idea" to "i'll just write down a few notes so i won't forget about it" to "WHAT IF I POUR SO MUCH ANGST INTO THIS" to me just losing my mind over it. eventually i stopped fighting myself and just let myself go with the flow.

𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 ➻ Nanami x afab!reader, 7.1k words, oneshot, nsfw

i genuinely think this is the best smut i've ever written. wrote it all down in the span of one feverish weekend and really made me feel different (in a good way) about my own writing.

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 ➻ Tengen x afab!reader, 1.4k words, oneshot, nsfw

i just really loved writing Tengen & brat taming. i also remember how i noticed while writing this that i've gotten a whole lot better at writing dialogue and dirty talk which made made me really happy.

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 ➻ various HQ chars x gn!reader, 1.3k words, sfw

these are drabbles and i LOVE writing drabbles because you gotta try painting a scene in ~200 words or less. i love coming up with different scenarios and really think about the chars and how they'd fit the prompt. this was also my first time writing HQ and made me feel a little braver about writing more for it in the future.

#melk special tag <33 #fic rec #lale.ask

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suffarustuffaru · 1 year ago

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I think I read a while ago on reddit that you had a madoka magica au for re zero, do you still think about it? I can Imagine Subaru taking the place of Homura but the rest of the cast is harder to place. It's a fun thought exercise though.

WAIT wow your ask sent me down memory lane wkdndn i forgot i even had a madoka magica au in the works for a while. i made it in like late 2020 and last worked on it in early-mid 2021 hah mostly bc my skill with writing and art didnt match with how big of an idea a multichap plotty crossover/fusion au was and i was still just dipping my toes into more ambitious ideas!! but id love to revisit it again now that i got more practice 👍

i like read your ask then went WAIT A MINUTE I DO HAVE A MADOKA MAGICA AU and then i skimmed through my old google doc plot outline for it in a frenzy. but also i used to write in yellow comic sans at the time so i wont subject you to my old terrible (affectionate) writing habits too much. but i think its funny how i had some notes on vague (and Dead Serious) ideas for witch form symbolism and i just found this yellow comic sans monstrosity:

2020/21 me was on some drugs probably LMAO 😭😭 but given madoka magica’s canon content that is probably a good thing if youre writing serious madoka magica fic.

also i did have a tiny bit of finished writing for it. here is the old synopsis past me came up with:

Stumbling across magic and witches, fourteen-year-old Natsuki Subaru follows his new friends and a mischievous cat spirit into a world where a single contract could grant you your greatest wish.

And at the end of it all, he really should’ve known this from the start: wishes always come with a cost.

i think that currently id probably change up this synopsis a bit if i worked on it again but it aint bad i think 👍 and yes youre right subaru would def be in homuras role for this fic… 😔 anyone whos seen both madoka magica and rezero would immediately make that connection i think hah they have. Similarities, as we know 😔

and i deaged some of the rezero cast as you can see hah. not sure if id keep that but i think an important aspect of madoka magica is that the main characters are that young. it helps add to some of their decisions and adds to the tragedy and whatnot. that and like. targeting vulnerable young girls, Literal Children, knowing that most would make a wish and sell their souls in a heartbeat and then easily be crushed by trauma without being able to fight back much, you know? :,) and then theyd make Lots and Lots of despair to harvest… and madoka was meant as a magical girl deconstruction and magical girls iirc tend to be arounddd early teens/preteens!! ill talk a bit more later on how id try to do this au with deaged rz cast hah.

also i did have a small drabble written for this au!!

The boy, no older than fourteen, stands there with an eerie sense of calm.

His frame is seemingly scrawny and lean, dawning dark clothing reminiscent of a mixture between a tracksuit and a school uniform - even if it’s adorned with golden ribbons and stripes - with a whip attached to the belt at his waist. Draped over that is a cloak, the hood of it casting a shadow over messy black hair and a cold expression. His keen eyes, emphasized by the deep bags underneath, narrow at the sight of Puck, mean and brimming with distaste.

With a steady hand, he raises a pistol to Puck’s head.

The moonlight shines dimly through the broken windows and onto the shards littered all over the floor. A beam illuminates a metal contraption, its appearance similar to a shield, strapped to the boy’s forearm.

“You know, I don’t quite recall making a contract with you,” Puck muses cheerily, though an undercurrent of a threat weaves itself into his tone. He stares down the barrel without fear, his sharp teeth revealed in his smile. “Who are you, really? And why are you so upset that I’ve been getting close with Lia? Jealous much?”

“Don’t you dare call her that,” the boy replies instead, bitterly spitting out each and every word. “Don’t you dare pretend that you only have her best interests at heart, or that you really care for her like a father figure would. It makes me sick.” He sneers as he digs the cool metal of the gun harder into Puck’s fur. “Because if you make even just one mention of creating a contract with her, or if you even come near her… I’ll definitely make sure that you regret it.”

yeah so. past me made puck kyubey apparently 😔👍 and if i revisited this au im not sure if i would keep subarus character development to be Exactly the same (ie it was very greedbaru/pridebaru/homura inspired) but this drabble was a fun exercise at the time!!

but anyway i will ramble about some more ideas i had for this au under the cut!! turned out past me had A Lot of ideas.

yes so this au was like. a fusion of sorts so yes i was assigning rz characters certain roles, blending worldbuilding together, etc etc but the general plot sort of followed the general story of the main madoka magica plot from the main show to rebellion!! it was like vaguely modernish too, but you know, madoka likes to be Creative with its backgrounds (see: the infinite amount of crazy chairs everywhere, which im still very fond of to this day) and also rz vainglory/school if has its fantasy world cast mixed in with subarus parents still being there iirc and a whole bunch of other details too (like beatrice being subarus adopted sister iirc?). so i was going the vainglory-ish route here in terms of “how modern is this world?” 👍

the main cast i was focusing on was gonna be subaru (homura), emilia (madoka), rem (sayaka), ram, beatrice, felt, and reinhard. also puck as kyubey haah and satella as walprugisnacht aka the giant witch at the end of the main show. i havent seen madoka in a bit wkdn i gotta rewatch. but anyway!! felt and reinhard got a mix of mami and kyokos roles narrative wise yeah.

quick rundown on their characters is that i wanted to stick to the rz cast’s canon characterization as much as possible while leaving room for fun experimentation!! and if theyre still younger than normal canon here—subarus still got his Big Ego/Im The Main Character mindset but in that way thats specific to his little kid self bc he hasnt gotten Completely Depressed yet (think like. arc 7-8 type stuff), reinhards still stuck in the middle of watching his dad gradually deteriorate, felts even Younger and still trying to find her footing a bit, rem is Guiltily and enviously trying to live up to ram’s Golden Childness (this is pre-Incident That Kills Their Whole Family). and emilia has lived a lonely life in the forest somewhere with no one for company :,) i cant remember if i had some Magic Mindfuckery ideas for her backstory here but ive definitely had ideas for modernizing her backstory for other aus like this!! but either way emilias family is still dead ;-; and i do consider like. the idea that modern emilia would have albinism, especially when there is discrimination in place against people with albinism that is a little similar to emilias canon struggle with her appearance so a modern take of emilia being that she is someone with albinism would be Very Relevant!! but!! not sure if id go all the way with that bc its a sensitive topic that needs to be treated with care and i dont personally have albinism 👍 or i could go the magic route and go “emilia looks like a previous magical girl thats become the most powerful witch yet….” ie satella ofc. so emilia would still be a bit of a “red flag” to other magical people.

but yes emilia wished for. im not sure but probably smth like “i wish not to be lonely anymore”…………. and then she got her wish granted via having magical girl/boy friends and puck!!!!! thisll totally end happily.

and quick note on reinhard is i didnt have much plot ideas for him yet but i considered different ideas for his backstory!! maybe theres some magic fuckery and theresia was a magical girl once? no clue how that works but it was an Idea i had for sure. also various ideas to modernize the Astrea Family Drama (dont worry the accidental indirectly/directly causing your family member’s death thing would still be there wkdndh this is an important detail to me.) but regardless of whats going on with reinhards backstory his wish was a naive little kid wish!! he wanted to be a hero who helps people ;-; good going reinhard ;-;

the entire plot of this au in general was divided in half, first half would be the first timeline where things go wrong. subarus gonna be the pov and hes the audience surrogate bc hes new to the world of magical girls/boys and no one in the group 100% knows the ugly truth yet!! and like in canon emilia/madoka has already become a magical girl here. emilia is also already close with puck—and emilia is the one person puck has genuine fondness for ;-; and i had a Lot of ideas for what exactly went wrong here—i had elsa and meili planned as witches? and i think i considered disemboweling felt :<<<< this is very sad bc her family gave her away to save her bc they were in danger (yes just like in canon rz) but then later felt had her life threatened or smth? and like mami, felt wished to keep living. but the wording felt used was wanting to “live strong”…………….. well she sure got it by fighting elsa valiantly but still losing 😔

also ok the first person to become a witch is beatrice. i had like wild ideas with beatrice—the possibility that echidna still made beatrice and puck and that beatrice couldve been a failed—whats the word for the creatures in madoka that collect/cause magical girls??? incubators i think?? yeah that. because whatre the two things a little kids gonna probably trust?? a cute cat creature and a tiny little girl offering free wishes, probably. and of course beatrice got assigned by her biomom echidna to look after echidnas library maybe. bc echidnas funny like that and beatrice didnt work out as an incubator so now shes gonna generate soooo much despair when she realizes that there is no That Person + the truth of magical girls/boys and what beatrice was meant to be used for….

yes more various shit hits the fan bc rem and rams canon witch cult backstory… i had plans to adjust it for this au and make it happen In Real Time. and also rem’s wish was probably something along the lines of wanted to be needed. and Better. so not just Like Ram. but rem wanted to be More than ram. which rem is guilty about but thats still what she wants so she wishes for it away from rams eyes. ofc rams feelings on this is that she just wants her sister to treasure herself and be safe and whatnot but rem is kinda in her pre-witch cult trauma mode and Oops now their town is destroyed in flames and their family is dead ;-;;; not sure how else id modernize rem and rams backstory but yes this is. this is how their plot went in that first timeline wkdnd. and ram is injured in some way ;-;;;

yes and then rem you know pulls a sayaka and goes a little crazy about everything bc beatrices whole ordeal already revealed how fucked they all are and then rem and rams Trauma just happened so rem feels like shit!! and then she becomes a witch too oops ;-; and then reinhard decides to be the hero and sacrifices himself so emisuba can escape ;-;; or at least that was my plan at the time. but yeah rem became better (a magical girl. bc ram didnt feel like making a wish bc her only wish would be wanting rems happiness but she didnt want to Cheat That. she wanted rem to find it on her terms. except rem became “better” and bigger than ram by being a witch also oops. also i think i still had vague plans to include rem being Obsessed with subaru to contrast what will later be subarus emilia obsession haha) and then reinhard. is the hero. </3

satella comes in somewhere at the end. she used to be a magical girl but she became a witch and shes Crazy Powerful for reasons i have forgotten now 👍 but i definitely wanted to have more shenanigans going on with her backstory to keep that sort of emilia-satella-subaru mystery connection. and theyre still connected anyway bc emisuba inevitably lose to satella bc shes too powerful ;-; emilia is gonna die and puck realizes OH SHIT I SHOULDNT BE FEELING LOVE BUT I DO GENUINELY LOVE EMILIA I CANT DEAL WITH THIS. WITH HER DYING. ID RATHER DESTROY EVERYTHING THAN LET THAT HAPPEN. and ofc subarus also in agreement bc oh god oh god—and yeah. subaru hasnt made a wish until this point but he makes a contract with puck to promise to save Everyone. like subarus promise in canon right before he dies for the first time you know? bc then he dies.

and wooooo the time loop officially begins!!! i had more ideas but i have typed lots on this post already akfnd maybe ill save it for another time if people are interested.

but yes thats all thats the au!!!! i am not familiar with stuff like magia record yet sadly ;-;; but if i ever wanted to expand the au thats def One option 👍 bc WOW the rz cast would be such a goddamn gold mine for those fucking incubators. little kid felix argyle would be a Top Tier candidate for them. like can you imagine???? thatd be the biggest disaster of all time ;-;;; and also theres Lots of possibilities for various witches the cast can fight!! very fun stuff its why i chose elsa and meili and satella :o !! but yes id consider exploring other candidates for magical girls and boys as well bc WOW felix would go insane here.

#rezero #re:zero #ask #ty for the ask yes this was fun to answer and i hope u liked reading all of this if u did!! :o #my writing #madoka magica au

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