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#man who is a cult leader with man who is being manipulated for the first time ever. like god. compels me
majorasnightmare · 10 months
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i wanna talk more about the totk au i have simmering on the back burner, in no small part because ive smooth sharked myself into making kohga meta and shit like Heres How Kohga/Ganondorf Can Still Win but i have no idea how to make posts that arent responding to questions
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valen-nidk · 2 months
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Family dynamic. | Vox's sibling!Reader.
Content: Implicit imposter syndrome, subtle hints of depression. General description of S.Reader's relationship with The Vee's.
A/N: Probably the last thing you'll see of this particular reader unless I get requests for potential relationships with other Hazbin hotel characters.
Frankly, Hell wasn't exactly what you had in mind, if anything, this particular ring of Hell was like Earth with extra steps and fancier titles: people (read: sinners) still got killed, sometimes there was a transactional reason behind, sometimes just because ; consent was also a bit of a myth here too ; politics? Not exactly. Religion? Uh, duh — after all, the fancy titles previously mentioned were: Archangels, Seraphims, Angels, Sinners and Hellborns (was Adam his own category? His title was First Man and, according to some sources, he had self-proclaimed as Dickmaster or the original dick).
The only upside thus far was that your physical form was kind of cool (literally, a humanoid robot so... an android that had to regulate its body temperature to not overheat), no bones ached, no muscles hurt and you couldn't get sick (a virus, maybe...?) plus your cult leader brother was, to no one's surprise, a cult leader! With the power of hypnosis which, in retrospective, was kind of like his gig back on Earth with manipulation skills that had been perfectly crafted and mastered throughout years and years of studying the human psique and emotions.
The TV head was... new. Unexpected, certainly hilarious even if the context was gruesome to an extent. It made sense, same goes with you: the right-hand, the prophet of this newfound god. Although your form was different since you died electrocuted because of a faulty electrical connection.
Ah yes, what is there to do in Hell..? The Radio Demon had gone missing as well as Lilith, part of you heavily believes that those two separate events are, in fact, connected despite the lack of evidence. A hunch though without something to back it up, you kept quiet — after all, you weren't a big mastermind, though you did enjoy chaos and creating a ridiculous amount of back-up plans in case something went terribly wrong. Cautious? Anxious? Oh, yeah. Your stubborn egotistical brother was careless when going through his many power-trips or when his rage made his (seemingly) perfect persona crack, hence why you just had to have ways to ammend any and all mistakes. Problems made you uneasy, utterly sick — gotta fix 'em, gotta have potential solution for every possible scenario no matter how insane they could be. You never know! You have to know, a sense of being capable of choosing, to own something, just about any single aspect of your life just had to be yours to control.
Nonetheless... Hell, huh. What to do? Unlike Vox, your powers were quite limited and served as support for his, rinse and repeat a life on that one. Besides that, you weren't an official Vee member, more like an honorary one — and thanks to you being a charmer, a problem solver (people-pleaser) and overall someone who rather live comfortably, well... You started babysitting looking after Valentino whenever Vox was too busy (read: didn't want to put up with his bullshit) and this lead to uhhh, unwillingly being dragged to his studio. The porn actors loved you, which made Valentino hate you but also love you as well because "motherfuckers are more willing to cooperate when there's una cara bonita como la tuya around these parts" while squeezing your 'cheeks' (screen). Yeah, you didn't get why Vox wanted this mothman carnally, though his voice was podcast material, the accent? Delicious.
Now when it came to the backbone of The Vee's, it was a trickier situation — mostly due to not having an actual reason to interact with Velvette. Sure, you guys exchanged texts like roasting Vox and Valentino, gossip, some blackmail material... Memes, selfies, the very basic. Being physically in the same room was comfortable, pleasant silences while sitting next to each other and showing funny videos from your respective devices ; or sharing private conversations that were hilarious with or without context, that's for sure! Oh and, let's not forget that this fashionista icon and unforgiving social manager will absolutely roast you if you are dressed like last century. Still, she was kind to you and, in return, you behaved the same way — work collegues, or flatmates would be a way to describe how you two got along.
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enavstars · 6 months
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Cyberpunk au characters (Part 2)
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Details:
Jay
He lives in the city junkyard with his parents Ed and Edna, who work as tinkers and scrap sellers; he got his passion for engineering from them.
When he was a kid, he got extremely sick with a deadly disease that was very difficult to treat. In the shitty society that is the city, his parents could not afford the safest medicines to cure him, so they were forced to risk it and buy a cheaper version from a not so reliable seller.
Unfortunately, even though he did survive and recovered, the medicine was mixed with a drug that had an unexpected side effect: he began to lose feeling on one of his legs until eventually he lost control over it entirely.
Rather than having him to deal with an unresponsive leg, to help their son deal with his disability Ed and Edna decided to spend all the resources they could spare to build him a prosthesis and amputate the flesh, and, after a few months of tireless work, the family’s joint efforts were able to get him walking again.
As a silver lining to this traumatic incident, though, he discovered his passion for technology and realized his aspiration: he wanted to make bionic prosthesis to help other people forced to go through the same kind of situation as his. But his family did not have the proper technique nor the resources to teach him (it had been hard enough just to make a single rudimentary leg), so it was after meeting Nya and eventually telling her about his goal that he finally got the opportunity to learn from an expert. Although he was intimidated by Ronin at first, the two of them grew fond of each other almost like an uncle and his nephew (yes he's become a literal wine uncle).
To this day, the man is (secretly) very proud of his boy and thankful he got him doing something useful again after his retirement.
The anecdotes with these gangs happen when they are older:
Morro
He’s the leader (alive and in flesh) of one of the many, many city gangs; particularly one known for their violent tendencies. For the area’s criminal standards, they are in fact relatively tame, because at least they do not ever mess with other arguably more serious criminal activities like drug dealing or pimping. They do like, however, beating the shit out of people for barely any reason at all (most of the time, just to “assert dominance” lmao).
One time, this habit came back to bite them in the ass when Morro decided it would be a good idea to mess with Lloyd. Obviously, underestimating him and the RGB as a whole just for being weird Outsiders was a terrible mistake, because as soon his brother caught wind of the situation, the fool got to taste Kai’s vengeful fury :).
As a result of that encounter, both Morro and Kai got VERY badly beaten, but finally the RGB got famous for being Those People You Don’t Mess With.
Harumi
The leader of THE most dangerous of the city gangs, known as the Sons of Garmadon (le wink), a cult-like criminal organization whose ideology is basically “survival of the fittest”. In fact, she is so obsessed about demons that she even wears pointy ear accessories to mimic their ears.
The organization itself is almost like a mafia, being at the center of most of the worst shit that goes on in the city. Of course, she loves being the head of all this attention, and she prides herself in being the deadliest and most cunning gang leader of them all.
On one occasion, after learning about the RGB’s (aka the outsiders) reputation of being tough as shit and hard to get advantage of, she figured it would be best to form an alliance with them to expand her contacts and (secretly) keep them in check. However, upon arranging a meeting with their leader, Kai, he is able to discern her true intentions. For this reason, when she eventually oversteps their agreement to try to manipulate the group, he is ready to confront her, and the siblings end up beating the shit out of her, marking the first time the great boss Harumi has ever been beaten up badly (by our queen Nya) and defeated in her scheming :).
Brad (le Greenflawa cuz why not)
Since back when he was a kid, he's been part of a little group of orphans named the Darklys, who like to pull pranks and cause trouble in general.
However, back then it used to be a lot more harmful than it is today, as the children were not completely aware of the damage they were causing. In fact, Brad himself was still an entitled brat, so much so that the first time he met little Lloyd ("Green"), the first thing that came out of his mouth was "Outsider, bow before me!". But it was due to Lloyd's deadpan response (he's used to his brothers being crazy stupid) and the awkward relationship that grew from it that Brad eventually realized that his bratty attitude was not getting him anywhere, and that little gangs' pranks were actually harmful.
So by the time he gets older, his gang is reformed to a more tame biker gang who only really pull harmless pranks from time to time. Brad himself is a far calmer person, but he still holds on to some problematic aspirations:
At one point he became fixated on the idea of him and his gang to join the Sons of Garmadon out of oblivious admiration. It was so bad that only Green was able to convince him, and only after having a pretty serious argument with him about how vicious and deadly they could be and how wild their insane leader's influence had become. But the stubborn Brad was not completely convinced, until in the end, Green managed to get through to him by emphasizing how his life would be in constant danger if he joined the literal most dangerous criminals in town. Most importantly, he confessed just how important of a friend he was to him, to which Brad, insecure and doubting his words, quietly replied that he didn't even know his true name. Right before leaving, though, Green offhandedly revealed his name to him, and Brad, left speechless, became the first person in years to learn his real name.
Long story short, he realized he was being stupid and was rewarded with massive gay panic :)
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andreal831 · 2 months
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Can we please stop pretending Klaus is some Machiavellian genius?
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I get the show is always trying to tell us he is a mastermind, but there are so many more clever characters who actually set up long term plans to achieve their goals (Lucien, Celeste, Katherine). What did Klaus ever do that was ever strategic or showed any superior intelligence? If anything his intelligence was severely stunted, he was a thousand years old and still acting like a teenager half the time. He made rash and impulsive decisions and they worked out sometimes. They had just as much of a chance of blowing up in his face. This doesn't make him smart. If he wasn't so indestructible, he wouldn't have been so lucky.
Throughout history, we constantly see Elijah having to remind Klaus not to draw attention to them. All he has to do is stop being a serial killer or risk bringing the one man he is terrified of to town. You would think it would be easy, yet he is unable to control himself. At no point do we see him ever preparing to confront Mikael. He only runs from him. He could have created an army to trap Mikael or befriended witches. But no, instead of coming up with a plan, they all just run. Not much of a master strategist. The fandom loves to say it was stupid that Rebekah called Mikael to New Orleans yet doesn't want to talk about how stupid it was for Kol and Klaus to go on a killing spree which they knew would attract Mikael. And he does this not once, not twice, but repeatedly in every flashback we see, all the way from the first flashback in 1001 to the last in the 1950s.
Speaking of the 1950s, what great strategic plan was it to tell Elijah he buried their siblings at sea? He isolated the one family member he had left while Mikael was hot on his trail. This turned Elijah against him and what did Klaus do? Did he come up with a masterplan? No. he ran and body jumped.
Klaus' strength isn't his intelligence but his durability and his psychical strength. Which is why he was so determined to break his curse. He needed to be stronger than everyone, including his siblings. But what did any of that get him? Tristan and Aya at least built a cult and created weapons that could even take down Originals. Yet Klaus wasn't able to come up with any plan to take down Mikael?
We see Elijah tell Klaus that Klaus 'built' New Orleans, yet we never see any indication that Klaus is politically minded. In fact, in season one, he is in charge and a war breaks out in large part due to his scheming. He is constantly killing political leaders (the mayor, the mayor's son, the witches' leaders, every faction head, etc.) and then is surprised when they can't find peace and everyone is against him.
The only time Klaus had a long term plan that actually seemed clever was the lie about the sun and the moon curse. Not only did it take them nearly a thousand years before it actually worked, but he wasn't even the reason it worked. He was tricked by Elijah and literal teenagers. Elijah tricked him to get him to MF, the MF gang tricked him into believing Bonnie was dead, and then he fell for that exact same trick and believed that Elena was dead.
Throughout the shows and even flashbacks, people act like Klaus is this great strategist. And maybe he is compared to the children he is targeting. But when you put him up against his equals (Lucien, Mikael, Dahlia, etc.), he doesn't compare.
Celeste and Genevie were manipulating Klaus left and right in season one. In the short '9' months he was in New Orleans, he destabilized it so much that Hope nearly died. She only survived because of Marcel. They only got her back because of Elijah and Hayley. In fact, Klaus' plan to bring Hope back before they were ready is what drew Dahlia back so quickly, leaving them unprepared to face her.
Klaus wasn't responsible for Mikael's first death. He got lucky that everyone else (the children he was targeting) came up with a plan to trick Mikael. Mikael's second death was simply overpowering him, no outsmarting there. In fact, Mikael would have killed Klaus if his family hadn't saved him earlier.
Yes, he 'tricked' Dahlia into believing he betrayed his family, but this wasn't a trick. He actually did betray them. He murdered Gia and turned Elijah against him once again. He is unable to scheme without actually hurting those close to him and alienating the people trying to help. He lies that he killed Aiden, again another time he just jumps on the first opportunity he sees, and by doing so, he alienates all of their allies and endangers his family. The only reason they end up beating Dahlia is because of Esther. They all would have died based on Klaus' plan. Sure his idea to curse Hayley did technically save her life but he didn't do it for that purpose, he admitted he did it to punish her. There was no long term scheme. He hadn't thought through how it would impact Hope or even what he would tell his daughter as she got older.
Then in Season 3, Lucien had Klaus on his knees before his big brother and big sister swept in to save the day. Even taking down Tristan was thanks to Cami and Freya's plan. He had to be saved from the Strix by Hayley, Marcel, and Stefan. They have their big Thanksgiving dinner where they confront the three, but all it does is show that Lucien, Tristan, and Aurora had out schemed the Mikaelsons. The only thing the Mikaelsons could do was overpower them and threaten them.
In Season 4, Klaus hardly does anything and Season 5 Klaus is an absolute mess. You're telling me this legendary strategist couldn't save his daughter and her mother from a hundred year old vampire? He couldn't figure out a way to find her? In the seven years they were forced apart, he wasn't even trying to find a way to reunite his family? He wasn't a strategist, rather he waited for events to happen and then reacted impulsively, hoping it would work out. His plans are all based on emotion and vendettas, not strategy or intelligence.
Yes, he is Machiavellian in a sense that he has nearly no empathy and will do whatever it takes to get what he wants, but he lacks the cunningness to be truly Machiavellian. Instead he is just a narcissistic psychopath.
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vagabond-umlaut · 4 months
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transmigrator, meet manipulator
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Chapter 1 of functio laesa Gojo x Fem!Reader; Geto & Reader [platonic]; Canon Divergent AU; Isekai. Fluff & Angst & Drama & Humor; Reincarnation; Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies; Incredibly Self-Indulgent; Eventual Happy Ending; Eventual Friendships & Romance.
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I've jumped on the Isekai bandwagon, y'all. [And I don't regret it one bit.] [Yet.]
Chapter warnings: Mentions of dying, accidents and panicking. Cult leader Geto.
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Many ways exist for one to start a story.
They can write a duel. A confession. A query. A mansion. Or even introduce a character if they wanna.
But no.
You don't start your story any of these ways.
You start it by screeching. Then fainting.
If not totally, quite a bit– oh, who are you even kidding– you're totally freaking out, girl.
****
Dying is sad.
Sadder if you're dying with so many dreams unfulfilled.
Saddest if you're dying in one world, only to find yourself in another world, before realising you'll die [again] in this new world.
Sounds like one hell of an overdramatic overreaction, right?
It won't when your eyes open to a person with black eyes and black hair and bangs. Next move to the 2014 in bold on the wall calendar. Then finally fall on the traditional Buddhist monk robes worn by him... Oh, no way in hell—
A terrified shiver racks through your body; you try your best to hide it as you smile politely at the man.
"Um, hey."
Geto looks at you blankly for a while longer, before cracking a genial smile. In another universe, he would have made an excellent actor, you're sure.
"How are you feeling now?" he asks warmly, moving from the sofa to the chair beside your bed; you really wish he didn't, "You sure do look much better than when I found you."
"I'm better now," you reply, still smiling despite not really wanting to. Then add, wanting to continue your tirade of politeness as a survival tactic, "Thanks for bringing me to the hospital, by the way. I'm sure I would've bled out from my injuries if not for you. Thank you, Geto-san."
Whatever response you might have expected, a pair of wide eyes certainly wasn't a part of them. Geto looks at you, baffled, for another moment, before coughing up a visibly startled chuckle.
"Ah, there's no need to thank me, Miss. I was simply doing what I deemed right. Though I must say..." He trails off for a beat, before resuming, a smirk playing on his features, "I'm pleasantly surprised to see you interact with me so freely. I was thinking you might run for the hills on waking up and seeing me the first thing, from the way you screamed at me earlier today."
"Haha, sorry," you say sheepishly, not knowing how to form a seemingly legit reply.
You definitely cannot say you were scared shitless then, seeing a 2D character in the flesh. Even more for it being the genocidal villain from your favourite anime movie. No, you definitely cannot even utter that.
You ultimately decide to settle for something half-truth-y, "I was terribly shocked then, I think. Not in the right mental space after being hit by a vehic–"
A ringtone cuts you off in the middle of your strained apology. For the first time in your life [lives?], you feel happy for being interrupted while speaking. The man plucks his phone out, wrinkles folding his forehead as he glances at the screen. Only to cut the call in the next instant, shooting you a contrite smile as he rises from his seat.
"Sorry to cut short our little talk, Miss," The man sounds genuinely apologetic; you know better though, "But I'm sure we'll meet again. Soon enough. There are many questions I need you to answer, you see."
"Of course, Geto-san," you chuckle, sagging in relief inside when he finally, frigging finally, steps towards the door. And quite possibly– no, definitely out of your life too. 'Cause there's no way in hell you will let him meet you again. New world or not, you know you have to AND YOU WILL get as far as possible from this–
Geto pauses. One hand on the doorknob. Head twisted slightly to show you a closed-eye smile.
"I never introduced myself once tonight," he hums, "nor did I find you on a road. I found you in the middle of a deserted forest."
A second passes. Or maybe ten. Or maybe sixty. You don't know. You're too busy panicking to know.
Your savior's [more like, future slaughterer's] smile grows impossibly wider. The air feels impossibly colder.
"Goodnight Miss," he says, opening the door. The lights from the room spill into the dark corridor outside. "We will meet again."
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'Looks-like-a-cinnamon-roll-but-will-kill-you' Geto and 'Looks-like-a-cinnamon-roll-and-is-a-very-jumpy-one' Reader.
What can ever go wrong?
Divider by @benkeibear. Header from Pinterest. I don't own the characters used here.
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venus-haze · 6 months
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Bad Ritual (Vincent Sinclair x Reader)
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Summary: Some pageant queens sit on parade floats. Being crowned Miss Ambrose requires you to get your hands a little dirty.  [This is an AU]
Note: Woman reader, but no other descriptors are used. Heavily inspired by The Wicker Man and Midnight Mass, as well as my own spin on St. Ambrose, who, among other things, is the patron saint of wax melters. Since this is a cult AU, please check the warnings before reading. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Emotional and spiritual manipulation, morally gray reader, religious sex negativity/sex shaming, elements of Catholicism, human sacrifice. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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The stage lights threatened to melt your carefully applied makeup off. You held a wide smile for so long your cheeks ached. Your eyes nervously flitted about the crowd of Ambrose’s residents, just barely able to fill three-quarters of the movie theater for the event. When your gaze fell on Vincent in the front row, he gave you a small nod of encouragement that manifested butterflies in your already twisted stomach. Could you help being hopelessly in love with your best friend?
“After much deliberation by myself and the other judges,” Trudy began in her soft drawl, harsh on the edges from her decades-long smoking habit, “we agree without a doubt, the winner of the third Miss Ambrose contest is—“
The microphone screeched when Trudy spoke your name, and the dam broke, bringing about uncontrollable tears of joy and relief. The sound of cheers and applause filled the theater, almost dictating the rhythm of your heartbeat. You weren’t sure what you would’ve done if you lost. In the weeks prior to the competition, you craved victory so badly that it filled the marrow of your bones.
With tears blurring your vision, you made your way over to Trudy. She smiled, placing the ornate wax tiara on your head and satin sash reading ‘Miss Ambrose’ in glittering crimson lettering over your shoulder. She wrapped her arms around you in an unexpected hug.
“Congratulations,” she whispered. “You deserve it.”
Hardly able to utter your thanks, you attempted to compose yourself while she addressed the crowd again.
“I believe we can all agree that this young woman here exemplifies the qualities this community holds dear,” she said, her gaze shifting to you with pride evident in her features, leaving you overwhelmed at the praise of your community’s leader. “If you’d like to share a few words, honey, now’s your chance.”
You nodded, trembling as you stood in front of the microphone. “First, I wanna thank the judges, Ms. Trudy, Father Julian, and Ms. Louann for giving me such a great honor. I also wanna thank my parents for believing in me as much as they believe in this town. Most of all, I wanna say that there’s nowhere else I’d rather be than Ambrose, and I just—“ the tears began to flow again, and you managed to get a hold of yourself long enough to add, “I’m so grateful to St. Ambrose for everything he’s done for us. I don’t feel worthy to represent him on his feast day, but I’ll do my best. Thank you.”
Taking a step back from the microphone, you smiled as Louann handed you a bouquet of flowers. Louann was the previous Miss Ambrose and as such had the privilege of serving on the judge’s panel to decide who her successor would be. You were sure she would’ve preferred her own daughter, but she wasn’t interested in competing, an oddly reclusive girl around your age you’d long since given up befriending. Since there were so few people in Ambrose, the pool of young women eligible for the coveted crown was small, and therefore the competition could only be held once every seven or so years. Besides the feast day of your town’s namesake patron saint, the Miss Ambrose competition was one of the most highly anticipated events around.
Being Miss Ambrose was a commitment, but one you’d taken on with pride. Besides helping lead the usual procession through town, you’d serve as an ambassador to the hundreds of tourists who flooded your small town to view the spectacle. Most importantly, you’d finally be allowed to attend the celebratory mass held the night of the Feast of St. Ambrose. You weren’t sure what exactly the criteria for attendance was, but being Miss Ambrose surely meant you were worthy enough to finally go.
You were too young to remember Ambrose being on the verge of ruin when the sugar mill shut down, but your parents never failed to remind you how Trudy convinced them and the other families that comprised your close-knit community to stay. Her unorthodox ideas of shifting the town’s economy to reflect that of its patron saint was risky, but it worked, and Ambrose had carved out a niche for itself in beekeeping, wax-melting, and the artistry associated with it. As such, she was the person everyone deferred to for just about everything. Her word uncontested law. And why not? You all had it pretty good in Ambrose compared to the horrors you’d heard of going on outside the town’s limits.
The festival’s celebrations brought in abundant tourists who would patronize your small town’s shops and businesses en masse. While you understood the importance of the tourism during the festival, you found the raucous way they acted almost disrespectful to St. Ambrose and the reverence he deserved for providing so much for you.
At the very least, photography wasn’t allowed in the church. It was there that the town’s offering to St. Ambrose was displayed, a wax figure, always carefully detailed to look almost indistinguishable from a real person. Tourists could marvel at the statue, but not document it. You didn’t care for them and how they seemed to regard you all as sideshow freaks for being so insular. It especially bothered you that Vincent had to wear his mask whenever they were around. You’d hear them whisper about it, speculating why he wore it. They had no idea it was because of them.
Otherwise, he presented his bare face to your community who regarded it with normalcy. When your family would join the Sinclairs in the pew at mass, you’d occasionally end up sitting next to Vincent. You’d feel his hands, strong and soft from his work, holding the one next to you a little tighter than you normally would during the Our Father. For the sign of peace, in which you’d exchange blessings between clasped hands and chaste kisses on the cheek, he presented the unscarred half of his face to you. Still, you silently wondered what the other half would feel like against your lips.
It felt like you blinked, and you were surrounded by the people you’d grown up with, all looking at you with an unfamiliar yet welcome respect. You basked in the attention like a sunbathing snake, each compliment and affirmation filling your chest with a warm pride.
“Congratulations, sweetheart,” your mother said, giving you a hug with tears in her eyes.
Your father agreed, giving you a pat on the back. “You earned it! We’re so proud of you.”
“Y’all did a great job with this one,” Trudy said.
Your family was one of the dozen or so original families that stayed in Ambrose at Trudy’s urging. She never forgot your family’s loyalty and trust in her, and it wasn’t uncommon for you to sit with them at mass or be invited to their house for a meal or a holiday. You reveled in any extra time you got to spend with Vincent, although being in the presence of your town’s savior always left you in awe.
“C’mon, a lot of that’s thanks to you, Trudy, mentoring the kids and teaching catechism on top of everything else you do,” your mother said.
While Father Julian was the parish’s pastor, most spiritual matters went to Trudy, and her decision was final. She taught catechism and set the standards for receiving sacraments. It caused friction with the larger diocese, and not long after you made your first communion, St. Ambrose’s parish split from the Vatican. Trudy had explained they lost their way, and that Ambrose was the only place practicing real Catholicism. That was why new families moved in, looking for the truth. You felt lucky to live in such a place.
“I’ve got big plans for you, girl,” Trudy said. “‘Specially with the festival coming up.”
You nodded. “Of course, Ms. Trudy. Whatever you need.”
She walked away, and you noticed Vincent subtly motioning toward the service exit behind the stage. 
“Ready to head home?” your mother asked.
“I’ll catch up. There are a few people I want to talk to first,” you said.
Your father nodded. “Alright, well, don’t stay out too late.”
Once they had left, you didn’t see Vincent in the theater anymore, and managed to slip outside undetected a few minutes later, fending off your horde of admirers. There was only one person whose attention you really wanted, anyway.
He stood outside, waiting for you in the shadows of the building. Your heels clicked against the asphalt as you walked over to him.
“Congrats, Miss Ambrose,” Vincent signed. He smiled, reaching up to adjust the tiara atop your head.
“I don’t look ridiculous, do I?”
He shook his head. Your face heated up when his hands made gentle contact with your skin. He traced your gestures with the pads of his thumbs, brushing your forehead, down to your cheeks, and finally to your lips. Vincent cradled your face in his hands for a moment longer before kissing you.
Without hesitation, you kissed him back, taking in the texture of his lips, the warmth of his body. His hands fell to your hips, pulling you closer. Steadying yourself on his bicep, you silently marveled at his strength, gasping into the kiss and allowing his tongue access to your mouth. 
Despite having heard homilies at mass and ramblings from Trudy about the sin of fornication outside of marriage, you didn’t know what exactly they were talking about until the summer after you started high school. Bo had taken pleasure in explaining the dirty details, offering to give you a demonstration. You rejected him in disgust at how lewd he made the act sound, and until then, in Vincent’s arms, you didn’t understand how anyone could fall into that trap. 
You whined softly when he pulled away from the kiss.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he signed.
“Why did you wait?”
He nodded toward the door. His mother. For how similar he and Trudy were, they always seemed to butt heads. Still, he was the son she spoke most highly of. Vincent, the focused, dutiful son who’d inherited his mother’s artistic ability and connection to the spiritual core of the town. Her feelings on Bo changed with the weather, though it seemed he was poised to become the public face of Ambrose. A good fit, he could talk his way in or out of almost anything. Lester kept a lower profile, but he was always around to help whenever someone needed a hand. If you were being honest with yourself, you thought he was the best fit to take over Trudy’s leadership duties in Ambrose, but she always had a clear preference for the twins. 
With Vincent being Trudy’s favorite, she’d be incredibly selective about who his potential partner would be. All relationships in town had to be cleared by her. She’d shut people’s requests down for petty reasons. Now that you were Miss Ambrose, there was no reasonable way she could object to you being with Vincent.
“Maybe after the festival, we can ask her,” you whispered hopefully.
He nodded, though he practically jumped away from you when the door outside swung open, clanging against the brick wall behind it. 
Bo stood in the doorway, a knowing grin on his face, partially obscured by the shadows. “Lookit you. Bagged Miss Ambrose herself. Never thought you had it in ya, Vinny.”
“What?” Vincent signed.
“Mama’s lookin’ for y’all. I can tell her you’re busy.”
Vincent rolled his eye at Bo, “We’ll be right there.”
When the door slammed shut, Vincent kissed you again, more quickly this time, and the two of you set off to find Trudy. 
Still backstage, socializing of course, her time was a precious resource nearly everyone in town was vying for. The Miss Ambrose contest was as good of a time as any for people to catch a few minutes with her, bring up concerns or ask for advice while she was available. Her eyes lit up when she saw you and Vincent together. 
“Just the people I wanted to see,” she said, as if she hadn’t sent Bo searching for you. “Vincent’s gonna be making the offering for the festival this year, some other things too to help his old mama out. Can’t do as much as I used to. You’ll help around too, won’t you?”
“I’d love to. Anything you need, just tell me.” 
“You got a good head on your shoulders. Wouldn’t’ve dreamed of crownin’ those other two. Daphne had some nerve even competing after that stupid stunt she pulled last year,” Trudy spat.
The previous year, Daphne had publicly challenged Trudy on a new directive regarding new families that moved into town and their church attendance. It was an innocent enough remark, but the principle of the thing got to Trudy. She was spiteful and vindictive, one to hold a mean grudge, but you supposed those traits were necessary to be a leader like she was. 
“Then that Christine’s a hussy. Tried to make my Bo stumble.”
You had a sinking feeling it was the other way around, and Bo had sold his mama some backwards story after his advances were spurned. You once heard someone say he could flirt the panties off of a nun. Not entirely untrue, but he was too impatient and entitled to accept anything other than complete compliance with his sexual desires. 
“I’m sure you’re not surprised Louann’s daughter didn’t bother. Might’ve given you a run for your money,” she said, looking almost unimpressed by you for a split second.
“Well, I guess we’ll never know,” you said. “I can’t tell you enough how much this means to me.”
“You deserved it, honey. Gonna be a lot of work for you the next few weeks, but I think you can handle it.”
She shooed you away, telling you to go home before it got too dark. You almost laughed. In your small community, everyone knew each other. You were just as safe walking around at 2pm as 2am. Nothing bad ever happened in Ambrose. At least, not like the horrors of the outside world you’d gleaned from the few times you bothered to watch the nightly news. All it did was confirm how lucky you were to live in a place like Ambrose, where you wanted for nothing and had few worries, didn’t have to fear what could be lurking in the dark.
“I’ll walk her home,” Vincent volunteered.
Trudy nodded. “Good. You give my parents my best, now.”
“Of course, have a good night,” you said.
When you were a safe distance from the movie theater, far from wandering eyes, Vincent took your hand in his, pressing a kiss to the top of it. The walk to your house would be short, but you wished for miles more to spend walking alongside him. Alone. He stole half a dozen more kisses from you while the two of you dragged out the walk to your front porch. If not a kiss, then his hands would be on you–the small of your back to guide you along or intertwined with yours as his thumb brushed soft circles on the top of your hand.
“I’m not going to see much of you for a while, am I?” you asked softly as your house finally came into view.
He shook his head. From what you understood, the offering was the most important part of the Feast of St. Ambrose. He’d already gotten lost in his work, whether additions to the wax museum or personal projects, but something so crucial would be sure to consume him until the day arrived.
A sad smile spread across your lips, though you understood. 
The next few days, you didn’t see much of Trudy or Vincent, instead helping around town with the various preparations for the Feast of St. Ambrose. You decorated the statue in the middle of town, an elaborate wax effigy of the patron saint, created by Trudy herself. As you covered it with carefully crafted floral wreaths and vines, people already began leaving small offerings at the base of the statue.
Just before the festival, you found time to visit Vincent, basking in the warmth of his studio, practically a furnace. Opera music grew louder as you approached. You’d spent time with him down there before, able to find your way from any of the subterranean entrances throughout town. 
Either the music was too loud, or he was too entranced in his work to notice you enter. His broad back was turned to you as he leaned over a work table in deep focus. A woman. Nude, bound to the table yet seemingly unable to move otherwise. Still you heard them through her gag. Her moans. Vincent’s hands were all over her body, caressing her curves with care, fingers tracing her features. A blinding envy flashed through you. 
“Vincent,” you snapped.
He turned around, shock that quickly twisted to rage. “What are you doing here?” he signed. “Get out!”
“No! Who is she?”
“It’s not what you think—“
“I’m Miss Ambrose!” you shouted. “Me! What does she have that I—“
“She’s the offering,” he signed.
You froze, your gaze shifting to the bound woman once more. “That’s not–you’re lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“You’re going to kill her?”
He nodded. Her muffled screams grew louder. “The offering is killed and then encased in wax for St. Ambrose.”
No wonder photos weren’t allowed in the church during the festival. He eyed you cautiously, expecting you to run away screaming.
“Can I watch you do it?”
He hesitated. 
“Please, Vincent?” you asked softly. 
“I just don’t want you to think of me any differently.”
“For doing what’s right? For making sure we’re provided for? We’re not messed up. The rest of the world is.”
With a newfound confidence, he grabbed the knife on the tray next to the bound woman, and you watched in awe as he lifted his arm above her chest and swiftly plunged it perfectly through her heart. Before he could pull the knife from her still warm flesh, you placed your hand over his and dug the blade in a little deeper. 
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battle-subway-ghost · 4 months
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[There's an article being posted around online. Click it?]
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Down The Buneary Hole Of The Team Fauna Cult
Team fauna is a proclaimed religious group, founded and formed by a man under the name of Wolf Fauna and located in a cavern outside of Olivine City, Johto. This group claims that the world depicted in the hit franchise Animals is real, and that ours is a false reality.
Seemingly innocent on the surface, Team fauna claims to wish to bring people towards enlightenment, all all while they "simply wish to live the way Fauna intended," specifically out of their way to state "We commit no crimes, harm nothing and no one."
Despite these claims to innocence, a further look into the actions and practices of this organization reveals a twisted world of kidnapping, abuse, brainwashing, and manipulation. This work hopes to shine light on the inner workings of Team Fauna and the recent events surrounding it.
Team Fauna pushed itself into the public eye on January 30th, as a strange invitation spread itself to many users of the website Rotumblr, reading as follows:
"Are you a seeker of the truth?
If you're receiving this message we believe you are.
Have you ever truly considered the convinces of this world, or are you still asleep
What if you had a change to escape it all, to live a real life, instead of the one you have taken.
You could reach fulfilment. Happiness. Many have.
With us you will know the truth.
To continue living in the dark is a common choice, but you may be one of the few who deviate.
We await your response with anticipation
Team Fauna"
February 1st, Team Fauna made their own blog on Rotumblr. Following this decision, many allegations arose soon after, many noticing hidden cries for help in the anonymous moderator's replies to inquiries, and eventually, a photo of a Galvantula in highly abusive conditions was uploaded, which was quickly connected to Team Fauna.
These incidents are what sparked a deeper investigation of the group; starting at Olivine City, the closest city to their alleged location. Many missing persons, primarily those reported to have gone hiking in the nearby routes, were reported, their missing posters strewn around the city.
Team Fauna itself resided in a cave and its surrounding woods far off the beaten path near Olivine City. Upon joining their group, it appears that many, if not all new members are asked to leave any partner Pokemon they may have behind prior to joining. This leaves new members far less likely to be able to confront any of the designated "guards" of the team, who are granted access to far more powerful Pokemon than other members.
Furthermore, upon initiation into this group, your name will be replaced, as you're instead given the name of one of the creatures from Animals. This makes it difficult to identify most members, as their names cannot be connected to any legal records.
Connection to the outside world is limited, if not entirely restricted. Many children are born into the cult, isolated from any sort of opposition to Team Fauna's ideals. It is unlikely that these children have legal documentation such as birth certificates.
However, the investigation goes deeper yet.
February 5th, A 17-year old named Sprite Chroma is incapacitated and kidnapped by members of Team Fauna. A bonfire is lit by Wolf Fauna, a celebration begins, and after the so-called festivities, a meeting is called.
During this meeting, Team Fauna's leader announced plans to open a cross-dimensional portal to their desired reality. Sprite Chroma is dragged in front of the crowd, and Wolf announces that he would be the first to cross through to the new world they all desired.
Over the next 15 hours, preparations were made for the ritual that would be performed soon. A member of Team Fauna took custody of the victim's phone in order to impersonate it to its friends and family.
Hour 15. 11 AM. "The last day in this world," as it was put by many in the cult. The ritual is prepared, Sprite dragged out of their cell for a second time. Wolf Fauna exits his cabin, bringing along a covered cage. As the ritual is set into action, the cloth is pulled, revealing that Team Fauna had not only found, but captured a Celebi, an elusive Mythical pokemon revered across Johto.
Celebi is forced to open a portal, but the plan goes awry. not long after the victim is forced inside, they are seemingly rejected, being spat back out, and destabilizing the portal, causing it to disappear.
Minutes after, the meeting is invaded. Many of Team Fauna's members escaped in the chaos, although it appears that the majority of the hostages and stolen Pokemon have been recovered.
As of now, the whereabouts of Wolf Fauna and other prominent members of Team Fauna are unknown. It is more than likely that they will regroup if given the time. Evidence strongly suggests that if left unchecked, the Team Fauna cult could very likely reach levels of danger comparable to that of Team Plasma or Team Galactic. We cannot let history repeat itself once again.
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The author of the article appears to be remaining anonymous, save for the name "Lotus I."
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schrodingers-romy · 1 year
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The Dollmaker [Douma x Reader]
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Pairing: Douma x fem!reader
Summary: You are a dollmaker; you follow your friend to the Eternal Paradise Cult and are fascinated by its leader, a man who looks much like the dolls you make...
Warnings: ehhh blood? mention of consuming human flesh? honestly below canon typical level.
Word count: ~2,000
Notes: Uh hey yeah so this is the first thing I've really written in a while (aside from brainstorming stuff). I wrote it last night in one manic sitting. I let it languish for a bit, then went back and re-read it. Honestly can't tell if it's good. But I did have fun writing it! So. Debated posting but I figured someone might like it? Idk. Minimally edited as well so read at your own risk ig. *crawls back under my rock*.
[Edit: Ao3 link]
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You’re not a religious person. You suppose you might believe in spirits; it’s hard to be a doll maker like yourself and not have some belief in them. But Gods? Prayers? You can’t understand it.
But it’s your disbelief that prompts you to follow your friend to the Eternal Paradise cult. You worry about her; she’s always been the more gullible out of you two, and her family encouraged her belief in gods. The cult is probably just a scam, and you know you need to be there to shield your friend from the worst of the consequences. So, you pass your work off to one of your employees and follow her up to the temple on the mountain.
You feel a sense of foreboding once you enter the temple. The cultists are all dressed similarly; most are women, and young ones at that. You know the cult was primarily marketed towards these people, but it still raises your hackles. You know the cult leader is a man, and these are the people men like to take advantage of the most. You don’t want to be here, but you’re glad you didn’t let your friend go on her own.
It is apparently a slow day within the cult, as you only wait in the bustling reception room for what feels like a few minutes before one of the women tells you that the leader is ready to see you now. She asks if you’d like to go separately; you say no. She nods demurely back, and motions towards the doors.
Once you enter, your eyes are immediately drawn to the man lounging on the platform at the far end of the room. You can’t look away from him.
He smiles, almost benevolently at you two, but it doesn’t reach his multicolored eyes. “Welcome! I am Dōma; what seems to be troubling you, my dears?”
Your friend speaks up, but you tune her out. You’ve already borne the brunt of listening to her problems; you use the time instead to study this Dōma.
He seems so animated. He smiles, his face twists into something sympathetic, understanding. And yet nothing seems to reach his eyes.
As you watch him lift an elegant, pale hand to make a gesture, you realize something. He reminds you of some of your dolls.
He was like a puppet. Crafted lovingly, painstakingly to look like the mirror image of a true human. Skilled hands could make the doll, and skilled hands could manipulate its face and body parts to look human-like. But in the end, the glass eyes of the doll held no emotion, no life. The same was true of Dōma.
You wonder if that’s what it means to be a prophet for the gods. If he’s simply a divine puppet, moved by invisible puppeteers. If an unimaginable being crafted his eyes to be so doll-like, inhuman. Maybe that was how they marked him as other. It would make sense; you’ve never seen eyes like that on anyone else.
You try to listen to what he says. It’s hard, when you keep losing the thread of conversation in favor of watching flashes of sharp, perfect teeth that shine whenever he opens his mouth.
It’s all meaningless platitudes, anyway. Hardly different from what other religious people would say. You take back your assumption about him being a divine puppet. There is no holy wisdom in this man, in this doll.
It makes you wonder who then is puppeteering him if not the gods. Is he simply a spirit, locked in an unnatural body? Who created such a lifelike vessel? For what purpose? To make something, so close to humanity, and yet so far….such craftsmanship you could only dream of achieving with your own dolls.
You get the strange urge to break him open. You wonder what he’s made of, what he looks like on the inside. How was such a thing made?
You are broken out of your haze once he turns to you.
“And you? Why did you come to me?” his eyes are piercing, for glass. You've never seen a doll with eyes so alive, so you waver a moment. Maybe he is a real person? But you’ve never seen a person with eyes so void of true feeling.
You swallow thickly. Your throat is dry. You almost spill your thoughts, and ask him if he is a doll. You stop yourself, thankfully, and stutter out the true response. “I came to be with her. To make sure she was safe.”
He rests his chin on one hand, eyes never leaving you. “Did you think I would hurt her?”
Your friend tries to cut in with a hasty apology on your behalf. You cut her off. “The way up the mountain can be treacherous. What makes you think I was thinking of you?”
He tilts his head in easy acquiescence. “But you were. Don’t worry though! I won’t hurt her!” He gives you a bright smile, and you marvel at the workmanship that must have gone into making him smile so naturally.
You don’t speak, again, only nodding your goodbye to him as you and your friend exit the room.
She almost speaks to you, but something on your face must discourage her. Instead, she asks on of the many cult members bustling around if you two could stay the night.
You are placed in a single room, with two futons. Your friend lies down immediately, making some offhand comments about being exhausted after your journey, and how nervous she felt talking to Dōma. You only half listen to her. Your mind lingers on Dōma, on the living doll this cult calls their leader. You feel more focused on him than you’ve ever felt about anything. There’s something about him that pulls you in.
Even as you lay to sleep, your mind doesn’t stop. You’re so sure he must be a doll, a puppet. Someone who moves like him can’t be human. 
But there is a niggling doubt. Maybe you’re wrong? Maybe this is just what cult leaders look like. Unnatural beauty that draws people in like scavengers to a corpse.
Well, you think to yourself. Only one way to find out.
You get up. Your friend is sound asleep. She has had a long day. You leave her behind as you pad along the vast corridors of the temple. You don’t know where you’re going, but your feet are trying to lead you somewhere, and you let them.
The first door you open is his bedroom door. Surprisingly, he has no guard of any sort. It seems distressingly easy to access him. You would think someone so special and unique that they had their own cult would be worth enough to guard.
But all the better for you, you suppose. You creep farther into his room, until you loom over his futon.
He almost looks more doll-like now. His face is blank with sleep, but it seems less like sleep and more like death. But puppets don’t die; they do lose life, but that’s only when the humans who breathe life into them leave.
Now, he is simply a puppet without a master.
You kneel gently on the futon. He doesn’t even seem to breathe. Another point for the doll theory. You have almost no misgivings now.
You reach out, and brush your fingertips across his cheek. His skin is flawlessly smooth, and icy cold. No living being is that cold.
You trail your hand up to his hair. Its absurdly soft, like silk. You use silk for the hair on some of your dolls as well, but it’s never felt quite that soft.
You didn’t notice before, but there is some sort of stain on the top of his hair. It was mostly hidden under his hat before, but now it is clear. It looks like someone spilled paint on him. It would be seen as a defect on something otherwise so faultless, but even that looks intentional, no drip out of place.
As you study him, you inch closer. You’re basically straddling him now, but you don’t pay much attention to that. Instead, you let your eyes roam over him again. His hands are similarly perfect, with blue nails filled to a point on every finger. You pick up one of his hands to observe them better. You hiss as one of your fingertips catches on his nail. They’re like knives, easily splitting your flesh.
You bring your cut finger up to your mouth, ready to suck away the blood beading on it.
Quick as lighting, a hand grips your wrist. You freeze, shocked, and look up, right into Dōma’s stained glass eyes. You try to pull away, but his grip is as firm as stone. His other hand grips at your hip. You can almost feel his claws through your kimono.
“Now, what do we have here?” he says, his voice a purr. There’s no trace of sleepiness in his tone, and no trace of haziness in his eyes.
Instead, you’re the one who feels sluggish. You gape at him, not saying a word.
He clicks his tongue, tilting his head almost like a disappointed mother. But his expression is not motherly at all. It’s mocking, with some sort of hunger beneath it. You think that hunger is the most emotion you’ve ever seen in his eyes. “Now, what were you doing here, in my bed, in the middle of the night, darling?”
You flush at the implication. You’re silent a moment, unsure what to say. You’re not even quite sure yourself why you’re there. You try to answer honestly anyway. “I’m not sure.”
He raises an eyebrow, wordlessly prompting you to elaborate.
Words flood out of you. “I just had to see you again! I don’t quite know why…I think I just want to know what you are. Because I know you aren’t human.”
“What am I, then?”
“You remind me of a doll. I make them. And you look like the dolls I make. You’re meant to look human, but you’re not, not really. Something is just…off. You’re almost too perfect…your skin, your hair, your eyes…no human looks like that. No human behaves like you either...your eyes are like glass. So, so beautiful, yet...they don’t portray the emotion your body tries to make.”
He seems little surprised for a second. He studies you more keenly now. “Well…I can’t say you’re totally wrong.” He smiles, but this time it’s different. It’s more a baring of teeth. You can see now he truly has fangs. He has the mouth of a predator. “I’m not human. But I’m not a doll either, silly girl!”
He pulls you closer, and sits up, until you two are pressed almost chest to chest. Your wrist, still in his hand, is tugged until your bloody finger is pressed to his lips.
“Do you want to know what I am?” he whispers, voice low. His lips move against your finger, smearing your blood on them, tinting them red.
You feel your heart beating faster. You can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement. Your brain feels fuzzy, like you’re drunk. Intoxicated.
You nod.
His tongue stretches out, lapping your blood away from your skin. You shiver.
He releases your hand, but pulls you even closer. His bloody mouth is pressed to your ear. You’re paralyzed, heart thudding, pulsing so hard now you can hear it.
“I’m a demon,” he murmurs, icy breath caressing your ear. And then without warning, he pulls aside your kimono and bites deep into your shoulder.
You gasp, a shaky broken thing. His fangs easily slice through your skin. Your blood pours into his mouth, and he moans.
He pulls away. “You taste so good…”
“Don’t eat me. Please!” you’re crying now, tears dripping down your face; from fear more than pain. You’ve heard stories of demons. You know what they do to people.
“Oh, no, darling. You misunderstand.” He clutches you close. He does it lightly, but you can feel he could crush you without a thought if he wanted. “You’re too intriguing to kill. As long as you keep your pretty mouth shut, I don’t have to do anything! I have plenty of other disciples to feed on. I never go hungry.”
So that’s why he has the cult. It’s like a farm; raising animals for food.
But as long as you’re not the one going to slaughter…
You sniffle. “Don’t eat my friend either…”
“OK, sweetheart. She can be safe as well, as long as she doesn’t get too nosy…”
You feel a rush of relief. You’ve never been more grateful for your friend’s naivete. It will keep her alive, now.
“But…what will you do with me?”
“Hmm…I want to keep you with me! You’re interesting. And life is dreadfully dull sometimes. I need something…someone special. To make existence less boring. And I think you could be that person.” He smiles at you. It feels more real now, less plastic. You could almost imagine you saw a flicker of real emotion in his eyes.
You’re exhausted. And you understand, a bit. Life is dull for you as well; often you wake up only to go through the motions of the day, with nothing to look forward to. Then you go back to bed, and repeat the cycle.
The interest you felt in Dōma, though sickeningly manic, obsessive, was a feeling you’d been craving for years. Finally, you felt something strongly again. Even when you were scared out of your mind, thinking you would be eaten… it was better than feeling numb.
“Okay,” you say. Your head drops onto his shoulder, hiding your face. “I’ll stay with you.”
He shivers, and his arms tighten around you. “Thank you, my darling.” His mouth returns to the sluggishly bleeding wound on your shoulder, licking up the blood like a cat does milk. It hurts, still, but you think you could get used to it. At least when you can feel his tongue soothing the ache.
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sepublic · 6 months
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Furthermore, Belos is the type of colonizer who loathes a culture, but also feels entitled to it and is pissed off when it doesn’t bend over backwards to his demands. He wanted the glyphs of the Titan but he refused to respect her and her people, her body, her customs, and opted to take it by force; A method needlessly more complicated, difficult, and arduous than just humbling himself and learning on someone else’s terms. 
So to see some people have the fucking gall to treat Belos’ seizure of what is essentially a native resource as some W over that mean and unsuccessful Titan, disparage Luz as ‘not working’ for the glyphs like he did (ignoring how this brown girl actually put in the work of adapting to another culture), and unironically praise his ‘protestant work ethic’ is just… racist! It’s racist!!! 
It’s buying into the conservative strong man myth that Belos got where he did ‘by the grit of his own teeth’, when really he lied to and cheated people who actually put in effort and suffered the consequences for him; He stood on people’s shoulders without consent and attributed their sacrifices as his own like so many American Dream capitalists, instead of appreciating and reciprocating others’ help the way Luz did. It’s buying into the idea that Belos’ atrocities can be overlooked for the sake of admiring how he ‘got things done’, because that’s just the price of success!!! Like I dunno maybe we shouldn’t even jokingly praise a character for being a colonizing thief, a swindling capitalist in all but name.
This reminds me of that time I saw someone’s Road to El Dorado AU where Philip plays the role of one of the white Spanish dudes. Like are you fucking for real. You saw a genocidal white colonizer who impersonates a local religion he has no real understanding over to manipulate the natives for his own selfish ends and you actually said, “Okay but what if we treated it as a cute and good thing this time? What if we treated his blatant disinterest in everything that isn’t seizing the natives’ resources as a teehee trait???” I don’t care if Philip is chill and doesn’t murder people in this version of events. Y’all are just being lowkey, if not outright, racist. 
Belos is an effective satire of right-wing conservatives and radicalized white supremacists, genocidal colonizers who bastardize and appropriate cultures, “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” success stories, entitled abusers with all their excuses, and Christian self-flagellation and savior complexes. Dana based him off of televangelists, cult leaders, and her own conservative relatives. And yet so many people willingly ignore the whole point of Belos’ narrative and themes to reduce him to just “Caleb’s moody brother” or some sadboi victim of religious trauma, as if Philip didn't willingly embrace Puritan ideology regardless of whatever drawbacks it may have had, because it ultimately promised superiority…
And with the AUs that strip Belos of everything that makes him Belos for the sake of some feel-good story that undermines the show’s themes and does his victims dirty, that isn’t even an alternate version that’s just a completely different, made-up guy with none of the depth. How’s he going to learn his lesson in a redemption fic if the first thing the writer does is undo the curse to restore Philip's White Man status that he so obsessively clung onto, and lost for that very reason? How is he going to learn his lesson if the writer can't seem to properly comprehend what exactly he did wrong and the actual reasons for it???
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g00ngala · 1 year
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hopefully this is the last long post i will ever have to make about hit disney show the owl house but I am so sick of people posting paragraphs of lukewarm takes on philip's death so. one last rant for the road, i suppose.
belos's death wasn't unsatisfying, nor was it purely physical. first of all, philip is a representation of greater societal problems (which are notably still there, remember, there's people who want to reestablish his order for their own gain). he is a plague and parasite on the world and a demonstration of humanity's worst cruelties, and his pathetic death by boiling rain and stomping as the most true and good character, who does her best to do right by everyone and believes in second chances, in the entire show, looks at him with no emotion in a way that directly parallels the way caleb's ghost looks down upon him, and he claws at her feet in a desperate attempt to use another person's good nature once again to get what he wants, and fails and dies, is INCREDIBLY symbolic.
and TWO. the point ISN'T that philip is an Evil Liar Who Lies and his backstory is being shafted for simple evil, he is an incredibly realistic depiction of how many people are consumed by their fear of what they don't understand and their hatred, let it fester into a desire to harm, and then elaborate lies to not only manipulate others but trick themselves by their own rhetoric so they don't have to feel bad for it
throughout the show philip is paralleled to cult leaders and militaristic dictators, and he is LITERALLY a puritan colonizer. philip is white man ego in its purest form. yes, the awful society is 75% the fault of Just One Guy, but this is a cartoon. he represents every man who has tried to build a world like this, who burns what he doesn't understand and makes up lies to justify it and trick his own guilt into not eating him alive.
people keep bitching that philip didn't truly face his own lies and realize how awful he was before he died, or that he wasn't given any chance to change, but philip has run the fuck out of chances. the point is he will never learn because he chooses not to. philip had to die because he'd rather lie and rot and take everyone down with him than EVER admit he's wrong. he killed his brother because he tricked himself into believing that caleb betrayed him, romanticized the idea of Caleb in his head and delusionally convinced himself that he tried to save him, while his knife hangs over his brother's ghost eternally, symbolizing the shoved down guilt he'll never truly outrun.
he made hunter believe it was his fault that philip repeatedly harmed him, he told the people of the isles after slaughtering them over and over that it's better if he rules them because he is better than them, he eternally victimizes himself over and over because he is an abuser. his lies are not just to others but to himself. he makes himself believe that the ends justify the means, when the ends are nonsensical rhetoric and the means are horrific violence. because philip is a person who may have had the capacity for good, but he chooses to live in his own hatred and rot everything around him, taking advantage of hunger for power and good natured kindness in the same breath, and he chooses to turn away from the mirror every time, to refuse to acknowledge the monster he's become because he's a coward.
the titan said it themself. his motives aren't genuine, not because he's evil for evil's sake but because he'd do anything to continue to live in his own delusion of heroism and perpetual victimhood. philip is someone you can find in the behaviors of dictators and colonists and evangelical christians and run of the mill abusers all throughout history. this doesn't make him a cookie cutter villain, it makes him a REALISTIC villain, or as realistic as you can get in a cartoon on the disney channel. he wants power and he wants admiration and he wants death and suffering to the people he's scared of, and he'd rather kill himself and take everyone down with him than ever face who he is.
not all villains need a redemption arc to be complex. he doesn't love to rub his hands together cartoonishly and watch the world burn, but some people do actually enjoy harming others. but the realism comes from how he lies to himself and others about it.
sometimes someone can be truly evil, not because they were born that way, but because they choose to be, and because they choose to live in denial about it until they're rotting in the ground.
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drafthorsemath · 1 year
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The Empire is a Cult
I’ve wanted to write about this for awhile and I guess The Bad Batch kicked that feeling into high gear. I started writing and kept going, so the grammar is probably not great.
Some context: I was raised in a cult.  I started the process of questioning and leaving in my mid to late twenties.  It took me four years of being a POMI (Physically Out of the cult, Mentally In) to really take the last step of leaving it behind me and becoming a POMO.  Since then I have learned a lot about cults and what happens to someone under undue influence. 
TW: mentions of a cult, physical abuse, mental abuse, death, undue influence
The Empire is a cult.  Whether we look at the BITE Model developed by Dr. Steve Hassan (https://freedomofmind.com/cult-mind-control/bite-model/) or the definition given by Dr. Janja Lalich (https://janjalalich.com/blog/definition-and-explanation-of-the-word-cult/), the Empire fits the definition. There is a charismatic leader who makes demands on their followers so that the followers must do as they are told or be expelled from the group.  In the case of the Empire that usually means death (all those Jedi that were killed under false pretenses, for instance) or indefinite servitude (Andor anyone?).  Cults control the behavior of members, the information they have access to, they make demands on the kind of thoughts members should have, and they make demands on the emotions that should be felt.  Cult leaders view their followers as resources to be depleted.  They often look for ways to point out imperfections (real or not) in their followers.  Anything that goes right is thanks to the glorious leader and anything that goes wrong, any bad feelings you have, that is all on your weakness as a follower.
And let’s get one thing straight.  Born in or not, no one joins a cult.  We might use this terminology, but really cults recruit people using lies, manipulation, and sometimes love-bombing.
The leader uses manipulation to get what they want, but they do not start out with the highest demands.  They work their way up to those demands.  For instance, Palpatine did not ask Anakin to murder the Jedi and join him immediately.  He spent a decade whispering doubts at Anakin, pretending to take him into his confidence so that Anakin would feel special, and built up trust.  At the end of Revenge of the Sith we see Anakin on his knees crying and saying he’ll do whatever Palp wants as long as he can help him save Padme.  This is a classic example of bounded choice.  A bounded choice is one that is made using only the information the person manipulating you wants you to know (part of information control).  Anakin believed the only way to save his wife was with Palpatine, and while we know that’s not true, Anakin’s choices are muddled with this undue influence.  Anakin makes his choice because he sees no other way.  Because, surprise, he’s in a cult now and Palpatine has constructed it this way.   Once he takes those first steps to turn to the dark side, he’s really in it now, so like most cult members (particularly those given leadership positions) he digs his heels in for years.
Often people like things to be black and white and that’s part of the appeal of cults actually!  They offer answers and it ends up being very us versus them.  Anakin isn’t totally evil or else he couldn’t be redeemed.  There is still good in him.  Yes, Anakin made a choice to join Sidious, but that choice was the result of manipulation.  It’s not cut and dry.  It was awful and lots of people died and the entire galaxy changed for the absolute worst, but ultimately Sidious was using Anakin just as he used anyone else he could.  (I’m not saying this totally absolves Anakin.  I’m just saying it’s complicated.)
Speaking of using people, let’s talk about the clones.  These precious individuals were created so that one man could start a war and he used them as if they were trash to be thrown out once they served their purpose. (Truly, I hate that guy.)  Literally created with chips in their head to control them and cause Order 66, The Bad Batch has given us a chance to see what they’re like when the chips are partially effective and then what the clones have to face when the chip comes out and they have to make a choice.  Obviously I’m thinking about Crosshair.  At this point (Season 2, Episode 5 has aired) we know that he believes his chip has been removed but we don’t know for sure if it has.  Did something happen after Bracca but before Ryloth?  Anyway, we know Crosshair’s chip was turned up to 11 in the beginning of Season 1 and then he goes after his brothers.  Even if his chip is removed at this point, he’s still stuck in the Empire and surrounded by that culty influence.  Even without a mind control chip, that does things to the human brain.
While Wrecker does eventually have to deal with his chip activating, his chip is removed in short order and the whole time he was surrounded by his brothers and sister.  It’s important to note that Crosshair spends relatively little time around his siblings after his chip activates on Kallar and from then on, he’s surrounded by the Empire.  Cults always, always, always separate their members from non-members.  They make you feel important while simultaneously giving zero shits about you.  The only thing the cult cares about is what you can do for them.  They will bleed you dry.  Literally the top leader of a cult will let the lower-level leaders do whatever they want as long as the cult isn’t imploding and the leader is thriving.  Shaming, punishments, physical violence, whatever, are all used by cults to various degrees to keep members in line while telling these same members that this abuse will make them stronger, is for the good of the group and, in many cases, ultimately good for mankind.  The Empire is no different.  Crosshair is initially surrounded by a bunch of clones saying yes to everything told to them, he’s immediately put in charge post Order 66 so feels he has some special status, and he doesn’t have anyone around him really disagreeing.  He’s later spending way too much time with Rampart who is a classic low-level cult leader and a shitty influence.  By the end of Season 1, we see Crosshair back with his siblings, trying to send Omega off world for her own good while trying to recruit his brothers.  Despite the Empire’s best efforts, Crosshair still cares about his family.  This is really the first time he gets to talk to his siblings for any real length of time since his chip was activated.  I am 0% surprised that he did not follow them off that platform after Tipoca City was destroyed.  He has his doubts about the Empire and he’s torn, but it’s still not enough to counter the undue influence he’s endured since Order 66.  Remember, he’s been saturated in the Empire’s messages and it’s hard to undo that quickly.
Hey this kind of thing happens to cult members a lot.  You make contact with someone outside the cult, someone you love and who cares about you and they can be the most open, kind, awesome, loving person toward you, and it’s still hard for you to take that step and walk away from the cult in that moment.  Most of us have to be able to sit with that knowledge for awhile.  In my case, I had spent the first 25 years of my life, that’s right, a quarter of a century, preparing for the end of the world.  We had a date, we knew the reasoning, we were certain, no questioning allowed, and then it didn’t happen.  And when it didn’t happen, I didn’t reach out to people outside the cult. I didn’t immediately wake up and drop all my beliefs because they were that engrained.  Cults can do this in relatively short order too.  You don’t have to spend 25 years in something to have those beliefs engrained.  According to cult expert Rachel Bernstein (https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/opening-the-cult-vault-w-kacey/id1373939526?i=1000595229657) even during positive interactions and interventions, it often takes cult members time to process what’s happened, to start to question, and then eventually leave if they are going to.  Like a good cult member, Crosshair waits 32 rotations for the Empire instead of getting on the ship with his family.  (Granted, he didn’t know he’d have to wait that long.)  Upon his return he is not allowed to be in charge by Season 2 Episode 3 and this is also a culty tactic - the Empire is so incredibly culty - because they’re trying to make him prove his loyalty again for practically no reason.  They are putting him on the defense in the relationship.  The Empire (like any cult) and its leaders must always be right and those who serve must have their loyalty questioned at least once in a while to keep them on their toes.  
Then we see Cody make some really pointed statements to Crosshair.  Cody is out and it’s important for a quietly questioning Crosshair to see that.  And can’t this guy get some lunch? He’s not sleeping.  Look, I know what it’s like to be alone in a group that claims to have all the answers. A group that only offers power to certain members once it sucks them in and then fucks over everyone else trapped in the cult.  I know what it’s like to be in a group that surrounds you by people serving the same purpose, and yet feeling so empty and lonely that you want to sob on the daily and worse.  Oh but you don’t have the energy to sob because you aren’t sleeping or eating.  And then there’s the letdown of things not being what you thought they would be hopefully followed by the immense work of trying to get out and rebuild your life. It’s a process.  
I’ll say this though: I am rooting for Crosshair.  I am cheering for him to have the courage to leave the Empire and reunite with his family.  Because it takes courage.  There is still good in Crosshair.  He still tries to protect his family in his own way.  He’s lost in a maze of lies, but that doesn’t mean he can’t come back.
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elysiumarchieve · 2 years
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okay here me out. This may be a bit dark. What about Scaramouche who's like a cult leader and reader is the obedient loyal follower who would do whatever Scara asks them to. The rest is up to you. You can get very creative with it. I just like the idea.
HERE YOU GO ANON i had so much fun with this oh god
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cult leader! scaramouche x devouted follower! gn! reader
warnings: scaramouche is a warning for himself, cult themes, religious themes, taking his god complex to an entirely new level ngl, is this how sumeru quest could've ended LMAO, cult au, violence?? you have been warned this man isn't too nice in this except to you (but it's super toxic like damn), idk what kind of au this is but just imagine teyvat but scaramouche has a cult, great
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✧ cult leader scaramouche is honestly such a hot concept holy shit
✧ besides that, having an entire cult devoted to him probably would make him far more arrogant than he already is in general
✧ he doesn't appear a lot before his followers nor does he make any official appearances. scaramouche enjoys being sought after by his followers and how they throw themselves at his feet when he just walks by without any announcement prior to this - it boosts his confidence knowing there are people who treat his words like they were the actual law. the fact that he's rude and violent however never changed - he doesn't really bother with anyone's wel being and he hates chatty humans the most
✧ being a discarded divine creation, he lures poor humans in with empty promises and lavish things, he amassed a rather huge following, however most of his cult is shrouded in mystery due to how unreachable he appears before everyone. cult members who join are never seen again and neither are the people trying to oppose him, as these people get assassinated if they only dare to make any moves against him
✧ those who do know him quite well however stay out of his way, knowing that a single mistake was enough to tick him off and have that person be sent,,, somewhere (where nobody has ever returned from), so not only is he arrogant and thinks of any human as pathetic, he's also manipulative and oppressive! congrats!
✧ just like most people in his cult, you too believed him to be above everything else, the solution to all troubles, something akin to a savior meant to free you from earthly matters and peril
✧ what his actual goal was? nobody knows. some might even claim he started all of this for fun, others say he started this as an act of revenge against his own creator - not that it mattered to any of you. whatever he believed was correct and not to be questioned
✧ there are only a handful of people who have actually seen him or managed to be acknowledged by him with words, and you just happen to be one of those special cases who happen to be recognised and be worthy of his attention for more than just a few seconds
✧ as his devotee, when he first laid eyes upon you and told you to follow him you did so without questioning his order in any shape or form. you weren't worthy enough to question any order he gives out personally
✧ to you, he was kind, nice, the same facade he puts up around people when he tries to gain their trust before stabbing them in the back shortly after - however, as blinded as you are by his fake smiles and soft chuckles he lets out, you're way beyond reasoning at this point
✧ he'd kindly invite you to sit with him while he's having tea, to which you agree almost too eagerly. in the end, all you did was sit next to him in silence as he spoke about things you had never heard before in the sweetest voice you had ever heard, and in the end he even shared his last sips of his tea with you before sending you off
✧ this went on for weeks, with him revealing mere tidbits about himself as it went on, you learnt more about his past, his emotions and what he really thought of the people around him - to hear from him that you were one of the only people he accepted around him almost put you in a cardiac arrest at how he said it in such a genuinely nice tone
✧ but in fact, scaramouche did take a liking to you. maybe it was how big your eyes became when you took shy glances at him, how you started shaking in sheer excitement when he spoke to you directly and asked for your opinion on things or how you played with your hands on your lap when you asked him question over question about the world - questions to which he of course had all the answers for
✧ with time, you almost spent every day with him in his chambers, drinking tea and receiving gifts from him for your devotion. scaramouche promised you that as long as you continue doing as well as you've been doing so far, he'd do anything to keep you away from prying eyes
✧ you never understood what that meant, but you also didn't question it. maybe you should've when you noticed that people suddenly went missing or how people were utterly terrified of scaramouche's sheer presence in the same room as them
✧ it was nonsense to you, he was kind, intelligent, beautiful, you'd do anything for him! even if he asked you to give up both of your hands you would do it, no questions
✧ turns out that our dear cult leader has taken such a liking to you that he started to refuse to see anyone else anymore, which in return meant for him that you also won't see anyone else other than him - but you understand, right? you wouldn't betray him and leave him behind like all of them, would you?
✧ of course you wouldn't. because what scaramouche wants, scaramouche gets, through one way or another he always gets his will regardless of what it might cost
✧ as long as you do what he says and follow him obediently so he can shelter you from the outside world, he can make sure you'll be safe (which in returns eases the dull aching in his chest he's been feeling for years now)
✧ if you ever manage to gather your courage and ask him why he decided to talk to you, you'd probably become withness of the most genuine smile he can actually muster up before telling you that there is no particular reason other than curiosity - curiosity on whether or not humans remain the same sort of stupid or if humans have the capacity to change into something worthy of his presence
✧ after all, talking to him was a gift and spending time with him was the peak of devotion - it's what he deserves for the betrayals he suffered through
✧ you, his loyal devotee who has become worthy of him, you've become his proof of his actual obsession, his search for a heart that he doesn't have and will never receive
✧ maybe his heart was never in his chest to begin with but out there, just waiting to fall into his hands just like a missing piece of a puzzle you'd be looking for and finally find under a rug years later (it might be the gnosis that he so dearly desires)
✧ if you ever dare to die, he won't have that. even if it meant dragging your spirit through the depths of the abyss and back to him, he can't have his most loyal follower die due to his incompetence or lack of surveillance
✧ cult leader scaramouche is a manipulative guy, only acting based on his whims and playing with people's life as if they were toys for him - that's how scaramouche lives his life and enjoys it, keeping himself above everyone else
✧ don't be fooled by his kind smile and tender words - underneath that facade rages cold fury that's been hidden for years with bo end in sight that he somewhat manages to calm once you're nearby
✧ whether or not this is a blessing or a curse, you might not even tell how fucked up this was. maybe you even considered his behavior as normal by now, disregarding any cruel act or decree he spoke and blindly running after him in hopes of remaining on his good side
✧ you'll only be able to tell in the end whether or not you made a good choice
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PROPAGANDA
The Darkling
Okay so this guy is the main bad guy of the series. He made “the fold” this barren wasteland of darkness and monsters dividing the land, causing like hundreds of thousands of people to die. He killed his mom. He psychologically manipulated his girlfriend (like, he caused her to hallucinate and a whole bunch of other crazy stuff). He made one of his followers (a young girl) use her body to slowly poison the king over time. He started a cult. He did a LOT of crazy stuff. However, we do see his backstory of him as a kid, and learn that he did all this in the name of equality, so people would stop torturing and killing the ‘grisha’ or the witches/magic users. Later, he fakes his own death and starts a cult worshipping him and acts as the leader of the cult, going by his old name Aleksander. He is a very complicated character. So tell my why everyone thirsts after him and is like “he did nothing wrong” HELLO?! He is NOT your poor little meow meow he is complies please please don’t sanitize him.
Mikoto Kayano
Mikoto is really kind and friendly, he gives people nicknames, and he tries to talk to everyone. He cares about his little sister and his mom; he doesn't want to worry anyone and will hide when he's really stressed out and try to act like everything is fine. He just laughs and hopes everything will work out. He overworks himself and thinks that he needs to keep working, even after he's already pushing himself too hard. He doesn't remember killing anyone and he's in MILGRAM because of it and he got voted to not be forgiven in the first trial which is making his stress worse.
Mikoto's characterization within the fandom is either sexy man or baby who couod never hurt a fly. Despite that in his introductory voice drama he folds a fifteen year old for several minutes abd the fact that he's now in a mystical prisoner for definitely committing murder. Like the entire premise of the series is contingent upon everyone who is in it killing a person. Mikoto has dissociative identity disorder the fandom uses this to basically go normal Mikoto the one Milgram arrested (the prison that can look into people's minds by the way) is the good one. He hates violence and I'd just a silly little office worker but the other one I'd the literal devil. An evil man who likes violence and just hates people real antisocial. The fandom is so bad at understanding moral ambiguity and dissociative identity disorder that despite his songs being called MeMe, Double, a line in the second song being literally "Just the two of us" and one of the creators puting out a statement after the seconds songs release saying "I wonder what will happen to the two Mikoto's now"- A good majority of fans have convinced themselves there is a third very normal and chill alter (because they seperate them by emotional states like this is fucking inside out for some reason) who is just a guy and consistently state Mikoto will be bad representation if there are only two. It's to the point that a good deal of the fanbase are fans of this character and not actually Mikoto. Only using his actual character for ship fodder to fuel their switch fetish. I don't know if it's not understanding moral ambiguity, just not knowing how to fucking read, or hating a minority of people simply based on how a dissociative disorder presents in them which is apparently a bias that the dissociative identity disorder community has had for a long time i.e treating people more poorly based on alter count but whatever it is I believe it's enough to qualify him for this.
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starr-finn · 3 months
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It's Your Fault: Yandere (ish) Kai Anderson x Reader
Warnings: Kai Anderson, Cringy fanfic, Mental abuse, just abuse in general it's Kai Anderson, Death, manipulation, Kai calls reader a bitch once or twice, Kai and Adderall, good god, shotty writing, slightly abrupt ending, a ton of mental back and forth. Kai killed a man and just fucked his world up, non-descriptive mention of a body, maybe a bit OOC.
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You stood there, staring at the door of the house Kai had called you to. You recognized the house; It was one of your coworkers, a coworker you had gotten really close to lately. You sighed and walked in the door. You certainly weren’t expecting it to be good.
You weren’t epecting how bad it really was.
Your blood ran cold as you looked around. Blood covered the floors and walls, hand prints and obvious drag marks everywhere. You stopped, tears rolling down your cheeks when you saw the body of your coworker. You closed the door behind you. You stared at the bloody body before you were grabbed by someone. You screamed and started trying to fight back.
“Stop struggling, You’re only gonna hurt yourself.”
Kai. Kai fucking Anderson. Your psychotic cult leader boyfriend. You turned around and looked at him. He was covered in blood. He looked hot, sure, but holy shit he just killed your best friend from work.
“Do you like seeing me like this? Covered in the blood of a man you made me kill?” He says coldly. His usually weirdly innocent brown eyes were so cold, he glared over your shoulder at the body of the man he killed. You shake your head, stepping back from Kai.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Kai grabbed your arm and yanked you back, pinning you to the blood-stained walls behind you. You felt sick for liking this. Being shoved around and yelled at by the psychopath you called your boyfriend, the same man who just killed your best friend. Kai had his arm pressed into your neck, keeping you pinned to the wall. 
“It’s clear why you’re doing this, if you wanted my attention you could have just asked. Nobody needed to die, especially not this bitch.” He says coldly, motioning back to the body.
You take a breath, looking up into his chocolate brown eyes, tears rolling down your cheek still. He smirked and grabbed your shirt, dragging you to the body.
“Look at him. None of this would have happened if you weren’t an attention-hungry bitch.”
His words would have pissed you off if it weren’t him, but you let so much slide for Kai. You looked down at the body, your shoulders tense and tears in your eyes.
Had he really manipulated you to this point? Where you’d let him treat you like this after killing your friend?
He growled and forced you closer to the body, “look at what you made me do, he’d still be alive if not for you. What is his family going to think?”
You felt more tears spill from your eyes. He was being so much more cruel today, what ever he was feeling, he was mad and taking it out on you. He stood there shouting at you, but you just tuned him out, just staring at your friend’s body before you turned around and buried your face into his chest. Why? Why were you still letting him hold you? He just killed your best friend!
He sighed and hugged you, rubbing your back, “I didn’t mean to hurt you, darling…you know I don’t like hurting you…” 
Liar.
“Why did you kill him..?”
Kai sighs, “Our love comes first, everyone else is worthless to me, and should be worthless to you too…You made me do this.”
That was about as “rational” as Kai could get now, which wasn’t rational at all. You figured that would be close to his response, Kai was getting closer to fully snapping recently. He had been kind of ok until he started taking more of his adderall, but fuck, you were too scared to do anything about it. He’d been slowly slipping since. Now you were stuck, he killed your friend and was trying to convince you it was your fault. He was fully convinced it was your fault.
Fuck
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@fear-is-truth I did it, hope you like this even slightly bestie!
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vixxelle · 10 months
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Bro Stella had so much potential I’m fucking clawing the walls rn.
As a character, Stella always intrigued me. Her obsession with Jesse and Petra, her snake oil salesman like personality, and how Champion City was almost like this dystopian cult city where everyone is forced to be Stella’s servants in hopes they’ll get their treasure back.
To me, Stella always seemed like she was good at talking her way out of trouble and manipulating others but pretty mediocre at everything else.
Stella knows that she’s shit at fighting, that she’s nothing more than a pathetic LARPer that craves the attention of her ‘rival’ Jesse to bolster her already fragile ego.
Jesse and Petra, they were everything Stella wanted to be. Strong, witty, legendary heroes who conquered any beast that came their way. Stella was nothing but a slimy snake oil salesman compared to them, a thief that relied on the labor of her citizens to keep her city afloat.
So when Petra came along and asked to stay in Champion City, it was an ego boost for Stella. Petra, a member of the Order of the Stone, was coming to STELLA for a place to stay in exchange for her precious Mrs. Butters.
Now that. THAT was a massive ego trip for Stella. She saw the opportunity to control Petra and took it, making her do meaningless and dangerous tasks and chores while dangling Mrs. Butters like keys tied to a string. Treating the poor girl like a mule so she can indulge in her fantasies as a powerful and wise leader.
And when Romeo came along and saw how fragile and power hungry Stella was, he wasted no time in manipulating her. Seeing all the power and influence he held, Stella immediately flocked to his side and was rewarded with a high rank in the Sunshine Institute and sweet talked into being Romeo’s right hand man.
And working alongside Jesse and Petra, she got to witness first hand of Romeo’s ‘training’ with Petra and Jesse. Being in a higher position than the two, she got to exercise her authority on them and the other prisoners, going so far as to sabotage Jesse’s plans and take her frustration out on Petra out of sheer pettiness.
But Stella’s admiration for Romeo came to a screeching halt when a prisoner outed as being the ringleader of a prison riot. Stella expected Romeo to make Petra just punish him, poke out an eye, beat him black and blue, pull some teeth out, the typical stuff.
Instead, Stella alongside the rest of the prisoners watched in horror as Petra beats him to death, the Champion’s pained sobs echoing the room as everyone is too stunned to speak.
And Stella saw the absolute malice in Romeo’s eyes, his smug smile seeing his own prodigy, his Champion, broken, traumatized, and covered in blood.
Blood of the prisoner he forced her to murder in cold blood.
But it was necessary, right?
No it fucking wasn’t.
That crook was endangering everyone with his riot! He should be punished for his crimes!
That crook was a man who was held against his will by a egotistical monster who plays God. An egotistical monster you sided with and stood by as he committed atrocity after atrocity in his little corrupt playground and went as far as to force his ‘Champion’ to murder an innocent man. Even if the man endangered everyone around him, beating him to death is absolutely egregious and barbaric.
When the main gang escapes the prison, Romeo decides to pretend to be Jesse and forced Stella to injure him to make it look like he escaped Romeo’s wrath. Made her take part in his lie that Petra, Jack, Nurm, Lluna, and Radar died and that Stella saved Jesse’s life.
He ties a leash around Stella’s neck by allying Beacon Town with Champion City and giving what she wants: Fame and Recognition. But all at a cost.
Behind closed doors, Romeo treats Stella like he did with Petra. Threats, gaslighting, violence, Stella feels like a slave to Romeo’s demands. Her lust for power and fame leading her to a path of darkness and destruction, everything she loves hanging by a thread seeking mercy from a sociopathic man child.
Just like Petra
Only Petra didn’t make the mistake of pissing of Romeo when her home is at stake. Cuz when Stella pushed Romeo’s buttons too hard, she had a front row seat to what The Romeo was capable of.
As she saw her city, her empire, being blown up and reduced to nothing but rubble; she learned one fact from Romeo.
Stella is nothing but a pathetic worm compared to Romeo, she was always a disgrace throughout her life and no high rank or some big shiny city built off of slave labor is going to change that.
The only use she has is by being Romeo’s little servant who tends to his needs 24/7 without question.
Stella was trapped.
And there’s nothing she can do about it.
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Because I want it as official canon in my head for your friend file 🗂️
Top 5 Hugh Dancy roles & why
jdwkhfsjhfsj hi, hello, thank you! x') <3
1. Nolan Price (Law & Order)
you know it. my man. I'm so in love with him, it's not even funny anymore. and I love who he could be if the writing of that show wasn't what it is. he could be a breath of fresh air, considering he'd been a defense attorney for ~20 years and switched to being a prosecutor; but somehow they managed to never bring that up or use it to make Nolan a better character after the first two or so episodes. I mean, they never utilise him like a real character anyway, so idk what I expected. but anyway! I love him because he's incredibly caring in every way. he clearly loves what he does and he wants to do what is right. he's not afraid to admit when he's wrong and do better. he's prepared to listen and work something out. and his experience as a defense attorney, who also worked with Project Innocence, allows him to view defendants differently. like he hasn't lost that part where he knows that they're also human beings with their own stories that should be respected. he's more aware of his part in the system as a prosecutor than most of the DA's office is, and I really appreciate that about him because it makes him a better attorney and a much more interesting character. (again... that's who he is and should be; but the writers haven't really delved into that in a while. he's almost unrecognisable at times in the newest season, unfortunately.)
2. Will Graham (NBC Hannibal)
I mean, duh. it's Will Graham. the character that introduced me to Hugh Dancy back in ~2018. no, but seriously. I see myself in him. a lot. too much for comfort. but even that is sometimes strangely comforting because even the ugliest parts of myself are things I appreciate in Will and can live through him without, um, consequences or feeling bad about myself. I love that we met him as somebody who's so determined to help others even at the cost of his own life, and have that turned around into somebody who acts selfishly and manipulatively, but who also hasn't lost that goodness about himself. somebody, who enjoys violence that he's tried to avoid for so long. all because the right (or wrong, depending on who you ask) person saw the truth inside him and managed to shine a light on that in an irreversible way. I just love his entire arc so much. it's something that feels very personal to me.
3. Cal Roberts (The Path)
the man that desperately needs a hug and therapy. so much therapy. I love him so much for once again being a very complex character. we meet him as this cult leader that is misleading everyone around him, manipulating them, and barely holding on by a thread most of the time. until we find out why that is. until we see and realise what lies beneath and why he is the way he is. and I need to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from the world that has hurt him so much... honestly such a grandiose performance from Hugh, like always, but this one sticks with me in particular because it's so depressing to watch it all unfold and for Cal to only become worse with every episode (in the way that it becomes harder to push away his traumatic past, but he's too afraid to face it completely, so instead his psychological state becomes worse the longer it all goes on, and the consequences of his actions become overwhelming and pile up to make everything much harder for him). I don't know how many times I just wanted to sit down and cry for Cal while I watched the show.
4. Luke Brandon (Confessions of a Shopaholic)
cannot stand the movie (that's not entirely true. I like it as a rom-com, but Rebecca is insufferable and makes it very hard for me to sit through the entire movie); but Luke is very special to me. honestly, perfect man. 10/10, I wish my future husband was like him (or Nolan. either one of them. preferably Nolan, but... let's not aim too high, lmfao). I mean, come on. that charming British accent, the fluffy hair... the fact that he's all about saving money and making that accessible to those that need the advice most. that's the thing that made me love him so much. that he thinks about the "common people" and the ones most reliant on saving money. those who are usually lied to by companies and other advisors. the fact that he technically comes from money and rejected that. UGH, I'm so weak for characters like him.
5. Adam Raki (Adam 2009)
the character that basically holds up a mirror to my face and makes me feel so many things that I don't really like (because ✨trauma✨), but appreciate that I'm not alone with. personally, I think he's a well-written, and especially acted, autistic character. extremely accurate for those that are similar to him. while I share traits with Will, like hyper empathy, I also share maaany traits with Adam. and it's just... nice. to see that. to see him be a grown adult that learns and adapts, but doesn't change who he is, and that he gets to do what he enjoys in the end. I'm also glad that he and Beth didn't stay together, after all. as jarring as that was for me the first time around, I realised that they weren't good for each other; and I'm pleasantly surprised that they weren't forced to stay together by the writers just so it was a typical romantic movie ending. I love the realism of the difficulties and the ups and downs, as painful as it can be to watch for me. you know how much it triggers me. so I often avoid a re-watch. but it sticks with me, and I appreciate Adam for the character he is; especially for the time the movie came out in.
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