# MORTUAM ╹ 𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙸𝙴 & 𝚂𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴𝚁 𝙾𝙲 . mutually exclusive , this blog might contain highly triggering content . mun ⅋. muse are 28 + . read guidelines / docs before any interaction ! written by miyata . est : 2017 / rev : 2025
An instropection of: necromancy, death, resurrection, loss of the loved ones, forbidden magic, demonic beings and psychological distress.
* NOTE: mentions of incest in damon's family background, appear only for character construction and world-building purpose and willnot be depicted in deeps and will be avoided in threads.
1 . slow and very sporadic activity ( not here during the weekends ) I do run many, many blogs and i also do have a real life to take care. Don't steal, copy or godmood. Drama will be ignored and deleted ( including anons ) . plotting is always better to keep my attention .
2 . mun and muse are off age ( 30+ ) expect dark themes such as violence, strong language, drugs, sexual themes, etc. ( despite of my character background and the stuff he's able to do, must add that there are things that are not needed to be explored or written ) I'm a very selective person but do not take it personal, i'm gonna follow back those characters that i see my muse interacting with. I'll soft block those who i don't see my muse interacting with ( again nothing personal and feel free to block me ) so you aren't there waiting to be followed back. I'll also soft block those who i don't click with and i don't need a reason to give anybody any sort of explanation if i block / soft block you
3 . do not interact with my stuff if we are not mutuals or if you are a personal blog. if we started being moots feel free to always reach me over dms or send memes as ice breakers ( as many as you feel like ) they are always helpful in so many ways or just yell at me for plots and stuff. I adore OCs but i'll only follow if they have a background and rules ( rules goes for canons as well )
4 . I do not practice mains or exclusivity isn't something i'm into and i'm here to rp with many ppl as i feel like besides everybody has a different version of their characters and i like exploring that.
5 . shipping isnt something i'm that deep into, it can happen but unless under chemistry , i don't ship because of the sake of shipping. smut can happen but honestly it doesn't grow on me ain't something i seek.
There's a saw on the ps store and you can get ff7remake + ff7rebirth $31.99 so yall better get it... I would myself but I'm broke agdggags is like $38.07 for me with taxes
❝ are they? ❞ yakan cannot help the chuckle slipping past his lips. oh, damon isn't a fabled hero such as the one that will visit them. no, he's far too brutal, far too willing to indulge his king's cruel whims to be considered as such. which is why yakan enjoys him so. loves him so. ❝ hm . . . we cannot kill them. ❞ truth be told, he's nigh lamenting the fact that damon must restrain himself in the coliseum, lest they'll draw the embassy's ire. well . . . having them suffer defeat would draw sufficient ire, injuring their precious knight might enrage them. but yakan's hosted many such fights before for his people's entertainment, most of which ended in a bloodbath and all but death. perhaps they'll be clever enough to recognize their mercy. ❝ take a limb, if you wish. it doesn't matter to me as long as you make it entertaining , ❞ he finally says, hands coming to rest on his champion's shoulder ere he leans in to press a chaste kiss to the corner of the other man's lips. ❝ if i like it, you'll be rewarded tonight. ❞
Just as he suspected, he wouldn't be able to kill. Not that he was truly a sadist for the bloodbath, but he knew his king preferred it even that way. Besides, he cared nothing more than fulfilling his majesty's whims. ‟ I'll try to restrain myself. ” The truth was, Damon didn't need to restrain himself ; he had control over his actions unless he was in a very, very desperate situation, on the verge of his last moments. But he was sure that this, like other times, wasn't going to be one of those moments. ‟ I'll try not to touch the head, ” he said, looking up almost mockingly, yet still concealing a satisfied smile. His eyes fixed once more on the king. He accepted the small kiss on the corner of his lips, then quickly moved his face closer, just a couple of centimeters away from the king's face, enough to feel his breath. ‟ Will I have your blessing then? ” He honestly wasn't referring to a blessing from the gods as a normal person would ; rather, he simply wanted Yakan's. After all, every hair on his head possessed one, whether from those who possessed it or from the gods themselves. ‟ I'll make sure it's a show worthy of your eyes. ” If there was one thing Damon had going for him, it was his confidence in his own abilities, and the idea of a reward after his performance motivated him even more to win. ‟ Though ... ” he muttered as his arm boldly wrapped around Yakan's waist. ‟ I wouldn't complain if your majesty gave me a small reward now. ” /@seejungfer
❝ my dearest champion , ❞ yakan purrs, raising both of his hands to cup the other man's face gently, thumb rubbing along the apple of his cheek. a smile plays on his lips as he watches him, a spark reflecting in his eyes. desire and obsession all the same. ❝ an embassy will arrive soon, accompanied by their prince and his fabled, heroic knight , ❞ he continues, hands wandering to damon's shoulders to gently tug at the cape fastened to his armor, making sure to drape it neatly. ❝ i imagine they'll want a . . . small spar of some sort, just as a small demonstration. but perhaps we should make something more entertaining for it, no? for the populace. ❞
His forearm rested on the hilt of his sword, his blue eyes fixed on the king's golden ones. There wasn't much to express on his face, as he listened intently to the words of the one to whom his soul belonged, while the skin of his cheek was being caressed ------------ something always welcome from the king. ‟ Heroic knight? ” he repeated vaguely, not entirely surprised that the visit was imminent. ‟ Aren't they all heroic? ” he said, almost mockingly. He wasn't interested in being a knight, nor in the reputation that preceded him. His place was right here, being the king's champion knight. ‟ I already assumed I would have to do that … it’s to be expected with each of them. ” Yes, he knew very well how these encounters between royalty worked, and how they always ended for the squires and knights ------------ it was always a sparring match that could even end in death for either of them. ‟ May I ask what Your Majesty has in mind? I take the liberty of assuming you would like this to end in more than just a sparring match, but in death … but I also understand that this carries consequences for you, so my question really is : do you wish me to leave him badly wounded only? ” He let His Majesty drape the cloak of his armor calmly, like a well-trained dog. ‟ if his royal highness wishes to entertain the people, then it is my duty to comply. ” / @seejungfer
oh, how very pleased yakan is seeing damon stand up. eagerly, the spirit leans forward, eyes blown wide as he watches the other approach. this is what he wants, after all, and he knows that the necromancer wants it too, as much as he may sigh and huff at times. and as much as yakan doesn't need it because of course he is always ready and willing, the command sends a shiver of want and desire down his spine, and he tilts back his head just a tad as his lips part. the moment damon is close enough, he reaches forth and grasps at his thighs for support, leaning in to press lips to the base of the other's cock, hooded eyes observing him.
No matter how many times he sighed and huffed, it wasn't because he was bothered by it, it was simply because he was annoyed with himself, and since he couldn't say no to the fox demon's whims, of course he wanted this as much as the other did.
A slight shiver ran down his spine when he felt Yakan's lips against the skin of his length. No matter how simple the action was, he was always going to like it this way. ‟ Ah, ah, ah ! ... ” he quickly interrupted as he pulled his pelvis away from Yakan. ‟ What's wrong, my love? That wasn't the command I gave you. ” He pointed with his words as he held Yakan by the cheeks, with his free hand he took his length from the base and guided the tip against Yakan's lips rubbing them. ‟ I said open wide. ” / @seejungfer
⠀⠀﹛ ♰ ﹜ — ⠀❝ What makes you think you are entitled to ENTRY ? ❞ she poses , arms coming up to cross over her chest as she looks him up and down .
⠀⠀ANGRY that he'd put her in the position of a scorned woman , making her budge would not be an easy feat . Less offended by the absence &. more irritated by his presence , brow remains furrowed as eyes glare daggers hoping in the back of her mind that a sudden downpour would soak his clothes &. leave him looking like a drowned rat ; seeing as he was one — he might as well look the part .
He stared at her silently for a few minutes before letting out an exhausted sigh, or something more like a snort. Did he really expect her to welcome him with open arms? Well, yes, even though this was only giving him the impression that she was finally fed up with his damned behavior.
‟ Are we really going to do this again, every single time this happens? ” he didn't say reluctantly, but he took a step closer to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.
‟ Come on, Marceline … don't make this harder for everyone else. We already know what happens ---------- you always play hard to get at the beginning, you argue and get angry, but after all that tantrum, we sort it out and we're fine. I don't see why we should do this any differently now. ”
“ being strong doesn’t mean never asking for help or admitting you’re in pain. ” -May
He looked at her with utter bewilderment, as if everything that came out of her mouth was nothing more than a stupid assumption. ‟ Do I really look like I need some kind of help?
-------------- I didn't know I looked so desperate for help, and oddly enough, yours i'm thrilled. ”
He settled back in his chair, resting his chin on his palm. His brow furrowed slightly as he silently observed the fox demon. He'd already made the same gesture, the same pout, twice now, which made his frown deepen even more. He shifted his weight again. ‟ Mmm ... ” ㅤ he mumbled from deep in his throat, but his patience was wearing thin. He knew perfectly well what the fox was trying to do, he knew him all too well, but unfortunately for the necromancer, he couldn't deny him, nor did he intend to. ‟ Open wide, ” ㅤ he commanded , standing up after seeing Yakan's third attempt at a pout. He approached him and began unbuttoning his pants.
The smell of rain. . . in the confessional? It was a very distinct scent, something that was far too unique for Father Aleksei to ignore ⸻ damp earth, wet crushed autumn leaves, rain soaking into wood and stone. Ah, but beneath it all, there was something rotting. It was the slow, unmistakable scent of decay. Hard to ignore, but even more so to mention. All he could do was wonder who had just ventured into the confessional. " Child. . . ? " He questioned in the sweetest of tones, leaning closer to the wooden partition, trying to get a better look through the narrow gaps that separated them. By the silhouette alone, he could tell this person was a grown man. And yet, something about it seemed lost, sad, like a child left waiting too long for someone who was never coming back.
It saddened him. He could only imagine the state of his soul. He shifted in the small space, wood creaking as he pressed a shoulder against the partition. " . . . " Silence. Yes, he didn't know what to say. After all, what could be said? Father Aleksei was only here to hear people's woes, to gather them gently and offer them mercy. . . but this. . . this felt different. Older. It was a strange, heavy feeling. " Child. . . you sought this place for a reason. " He said gently, and oh, with such care, as if one wrong word might hurt him and himself. " Whatever burdens you may carry. . . they may be named here. "
It was so ironic, too much even for his own taste. The necromancer never thought that one day in his life he would set foot in something as remote as a church. The house of God had always been far from his reach, not because he wanted to be near it, but because it was a place where those of his kind were not welcome, and he had always known that for as long as he could remember. Although there had never been a reason to set foot in the house of those who haunted his kind, those responsible for hunting his people since even before the Inquisition. It wasn't that the necromancer cared ; that kind of thing was history he read in old books in the family library. However, he wasn't going to deny his curiosity. He had never been in one, never intended to, but being new in town and with some free time, he thought it might be a good idea, even though his true intention had always been to explore the cemeteries surrounding the land.
He settled into the wooden chair in silence. Damon was a rather reserved and quiet man, mostly because he had no interest in others, or any intention of sharing or exchanging thoughts, but he was here now. ‟ Perhaps there’s a reason, ” ㅤ he said calmly, forming his hand into a fist as the leather of his glove settled. ‟ Religion was never my strong suit, well, to be honest, it was never really a relevant part of my life … so I’m here out of sheer curiosity. ” ㅤ He wasn’t lying, but perhaps this curiosity was going to lead somewhere he didn’t want to go. ‟ Although I admit, my curiosity is primarily purely touristic. I’ve never set foot in a church before … but I thought, if I’m going to be staying in this town, then meet people around. ” ㅤHe let out a small, mocking snort before fixing his eyes on the priest through the wooden partition ‟ I thought it would be a good idea to start here. ” ㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤA quiet breath escapes Victoria at that [ perhaps… something softer than laughter yet carrying the faint shape of amusement all the same; she can’t quite tell, sometimes, ] His scrutiny lingers visibly against her, careful & analytical in ways she recognizes immediately; the sort of stare reserved for anomalies, [ for things that settle incorrectly inside the world around them, ] Years spent drifting between realities have made those moments painfully familiar to her; the prolonged stare, the subtle hesitation, the instinctive recognition that something about her settles incorrectly within the world around her. Victoria does not resent it; she understands. Moonlight spills weakly across the narrow corridor between them, silver catching against the edge of her silhouette while her gaze remains fixed steadily on him, thoughtful now rather than defensive. There is something equally misplaced about him too; she senses it instinctively beneath the scent of old death clinging stubbornly to the air around him, beneath the quiet heaviness pressing against the atmosphere itself as if a pair of unseen hands are lingering just out of sight…
“—Mm,” she tilts her head just ever so; considering him more carefully now that he’s spoken. “That would be because I don’t,” something rather distant settles behind the words the moment they leave her mouth, subtle weariness threading itself through her expression before she smooths it away again… Digits shift loosely at her side; gaze is measured & observant without ever becoming openly hostile [ …for now, ] “You, on the other hand…” she continues after a moment, voice lowering thoughtfully, “...you smell like death magic & unfinished grief. So I suppose neither of us belongs particularly well anywhere.” No accusation rests within the statement; if anything, the observation carries an almost unsettling familiarity. Takes one to know one, perhaps? A pause follows, [ quieter this time, ] “…Though yours feels intentional. What’s your story, big guy?”
ㅤThe stench of death, dampness, and mud was as pervasive as if autumn itself were a part of him. He had an uncanny connection to black magic and death itself, perhaps a relationship of love and hate simultaneously. How often they fought, one stealing the other's soul just to fulfill their misdeeds, yet lovers nonetheless. He didn't usually encounter people like himself, or those connected to any supernatural being and / or magic . He wasn't a sorcerer ; he couldn't know exactly what she was, but he did know she was different from the rest … how could that be so c a p t i v a t i n g , how strangely it stirred and awakened his curiosity? He took a step forward, not entirely respecting the woman's personal space. He looked down at her with a strange mixture of disdain and curiosity. ‟ And yours isn't intentional? ” ㅤ He asked almost genuinely as he leaned forward to get a better look at her. He knew a certain energy flowed within her, one that intrigued him completely. But somehow she was right ; his was intentional. He had chosen this path, one that had been imposed upon him even before he came into this world, and yet he embraced it as if everything depended on it. ‟ It's almost ironic. ” ㅤhe said, letting out a low laugh from deep within his throat. ‟ There's not much to say … yes, I belong here. I simply let a certain influence consume and surround me ------------- though I'm sure you are so much more than I am. ” ㅤ His blue eyes remained fixed on her, showing no intention of moving. They were completely mesmerized by her.
‟ There’s something about you I can’t quite put my finger on. I clearly see something enveloping you, but I can’t say what it is. ” ㅤ He moved even closer, gently taking her chin in his thumb and forefinger. He had no intention of hurting her, nor did he feel he should be on the defensive ; he simply wanted to observe her more closely. ‟ If we’re talking about unfinished grief, then I could say the same about you. Loss and suffering are linked to my magic. I can say you’ve lost something significant, something that bound you to it, but I could also be completely wrong. --------------------- What are you? ” ㅤ
"Have you ever wondered if tall people lick the tops of short people's heads to assert dominance over them, or is this just an irrational fear?" (hi hello i have finally kicked my shyness in the arse to come send something silly to a fellow mutual.)
One of his eyebrows arched prominently ; he really didn't have time for this kind of thing, so he simply rolled his eyes, almost in an exaggerated way.
‟ I really don't have time for this kind of nonsense. ”
yakan doesn't think it will take much longer for damon to return home. at least, that's what they're hoping whilst they're waiting for him in their bed, arms crossed under the pillow and their hips raised high. they're wearing but one of the necromancer's shirt that's barely covering their rear, silver hair cascading past their shoulders and scattering across the mattress. they have their face buried against the pillow, breathing into it hotly as their eyes remain closed. whatever the reason, it feels good to be in this position, thinking about the way damon's hands would feel tracing their body if he was here, burying them into their hair or finding their way to their mouth to press fingers into it while slowly, slowly pushing into them, letting them feel every inch. the mere thought sends a shiver through the spirit's body, their back curving into a deeper arch as heat pools in their stomach. oh, hopefully damon will be back soon.
It wasn't the first time he'd come home to find Yakan like this, and he was absolutely certain it wouldn't be the last. Of course, he wasn't complaining at all ; in fact, what a lucky man to come home after a long day and find his partner doing nothing more than touching himself and thinking of him ---------- there was truly no price for that.
He calmly unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt while simultaneously rolling up his sleeves. He had to admit he enjoyed watching Yakan pleasure himself without even noticing the necromancer's presence in the room. Perhaps he was too engrossed, too needy to notice. He had a full view, one he could revel in. ‟ Sometimes I think about what I'm going to do with you, ” he said while interrupting with a smile that formed at the corner of his lips as he moved a little closer to the bed without taking his eyes off the spirit. ‟ I leave you alone for a couple of hours and you waste no time. ” His arms crossed against his own chest as he watched, contemplating the scene, hoping that the fox spirit would not stop.
