#and then to have everyone around you treat you like an object of desire even then

[daily-terus]

#There he is! #being objectified as per usual! #I know I've said this before but Nene really is the perfect demonstration of the way others see Teru #(others excepting Akane ofc lol) #her rock-bottom self-esteem and desperation to be liked makes her put Teru on a pedestal as the solution to her problems #she objectifies him because maybe if he likes her she's not that bad #And that's horrible for Nene ofc #but GOD how exhausting it must be #to spend one's life fighting supernaturals with every bit of free time #to be forced to sacrifice one's childhood in the name of it #and then to have everyone around you treat you like an object of desire even then #with no regard for the fact that you're a PERSON with free will and opinions #Literally everyone around him as treated him like an object without room for wants or FLAWS #From the exorcism side it's the expectation that he WILL NOT have any #from Kou (and Tiara presumably) it's the idea that he's perfect #though we see that start to change in Kou throughout the series #and to his classmates it's an impossibility that he could be anything BUT perfect #He's not even REAL to them #just an ideal #jshk #minamoto teru #tbhk #teru minamoto

[sapper-in-the-wire]

Liberals wincing at the brutality of Hamas’ attack is even more smoothbrain when you consider that the Gaza Strip is objectively the worst concentration camp in the world.

It’s the 2nd most densely populated area in the entire world, 95% of water isn’t safe, they are only given 4 hours of electricity (imagine this with the population density and Mediterranean heat), medicine and basic foodstuffs like juice are embargoed. The average age in Gaza is 19 - the old and weak die quickly as their health care system cannot get supplies and doesn’t have stable electricity. More than half of youths under 18 expressed that they have no real desire to live and contemplate suicide regularly. 45% unemployment. Children get blown up playing soccer on the beach by advanced warships. It’s probably the most surveilled and spied upon place in the world. It’s a tiny strip of land 25 miles wide that is regularly subjected to bombing.

In 2018 mass peaceful demonstrations were organized, thousands and thousands of Palestinians marched along the border wall. Israel shot 2,000 of them with live ammunition, but only killed around 200 because they deliberately aim at legs to place even more strain on the depleted medical infrastructure and make an invalid that can’t contribute as well. 36,000 Palestinians were injured peacefully protesting.

Every year the IDF invades Al-Asqa mosque, gasses the worshippers and cracks heads open, and then they leave because there’s no point aside from violent harassment. And then there’s the constant news from other occupied areas of Palestinians being evicted, homes being bulldozed, the survivors fined and harassed. Palestinian olive trees, generational in their age, bulldozed by the occupiers.

Shooting civilians wantonly might be morally dubious in a situation like Hawaii, some place where an occupation makes you disadvantaged and a second class citizen. But Gaza is just flat out a death camp. Of course the commandos went berserk with rage, of course they brought bodies back to parade in the streets - everyone has been dehumanized for their entire lives. Treat people like animals and they might just act like animals once they get their hands on you.

#Palestine #Israel

[seospicybin]

DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?

PART I

Lee know x reader. (s,a)

Chapters: Part II

Synopsis: Making a contact with an ancient object, you meet a demon who takes form of the man you desired and forces you to commit terrible acts to stop the world from ending. (14k words)

Author's note: I indulge myself with a spooky fic and demon Minho in it. Read with cautions and enjoy x

Based on an episode of Black Mirror. Content warnings: Violence, gore, mentions of abuse, assaults and graphic imagery. Reader's discretion is advised!

"Carving is easy. You just go down to the skin and stop." - Michelangelo

-

Oh, no! You're doing it again.

When you think you're talking in your head, you're actually talking loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. It's even worse that your voice is echoing in the big chamber of the empty gallery.

They seem to not care about it or pretend to because Kim has just walked in to check everyone's work. She's your friend from art school turns an art dealer and she has a way to control everyone around her.

"I told you to let us do it for you," she says, clicking her tongue at you and crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The gallery is having some of your pieces of art displayed for the exhibition tonight and you want to make sure that they're presented the way you envisioned it.

You carefully step down the ladder and stand next to Kim, looking at the sculpture you made of a man holding an arrow with an apple stuck at the end of the arrow.

You hear Kim dreamily sigh then look at you, "You're going to sell..." She pauses to emphasize the word she's going to say next, "Big!"

Money isn't the reason why you create these sculptures but you need it in order to keep being able to do this. You have no idea how expensive a block of stone is!

The reason why you made these sculptures is because this is what you love doing: envision your imagination onto a block of stone and you carve it to bring it to life.

Why did you choose stone as the medium? Because they're durable, stubborn yet resilient. It takes time to create one sculpture but once you've seen the result, you forget about the hard work behind it.

Kim puts her hand on your shoulder and snaps you out of your reverie, "Stop worrying about your sculptures," she says.

She turns you around to force you to face her and puts her other hand on your shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Put some color on those cheeks. Have a pre-party with a glass of wine or two."

Dressing up sounds like a lot of work, you'd rather stay in your dungarees and striped top, "Can I just wear these?"

It's like she has just heard someone dies, Kim's hand flies to her temple and screws her eyes shut for a second, "Trust me when I say that the people coming tonight wouldn't expect the artist behind these magnificent sculptures to look like Chucky," she says with a sneering smile.

She squeezes your shoulder and tilts her head to the side, "And that's me putting it the nicest way possible because you're my friend."

It's still a mystery how you ended up friends with someone like Kim, she's the opposite of what you are, an extrovert, a tolerable narcissist, she likes attention and is forthright to the point it's borderline insolent. You're so used to her audacious way of treating you and the blunt words that come out of her red-lipped mouth.

She's been like this even before you met her and you are the friend who likes to suffer in silence, you think that's why you became friends. Nevertheless, Kim treats you better than she treats anyone else for that matter.

That explains why the gallery staff are so afraid of her. It's always best to get out of her way unless she wants you to be there. You pick up your bag from the floor along with your jacket.

"I'll go then," you meekly say.

She grabs your elbow before leaving, "Go home," she says with a glare.

"Home. Not your studio," she says again, making it clear to you.

She knows you well enough to know that you like spending your days in your studio instead of your apartment. You sling the strap of your bag on one shoulder, "Go home. Get dressed. Come to the exhibition late," you repeat the things she wanted you to do.

Kim smiles and gently cups your cheek, "Good girl. Now go!"

Once you get home though, you spend hours just sitting in the emptiness that lingers in your apartment that is too big for one person to live in it.

This is why you prefer to stay in your studio, you like to keep your head occupied rather than being alone with your thoughts like this.

And your thoughts, they're mostly of unkind things and...

Your phone rings from inside your bag and steers your mind back to your head. Without having to look at it, you can tell who it is. There are no other people who call you daily except, well, if it's an emergency call.

"Are you getting ready yet?" Kim goes straight to the point.

"Uh... yeah, I just showered, I—" you jolt awake from lying down on the sofa.

"I'm having problems picking what to wear," you add a laugh in the hope of sounding convincing.

There's a wave of laughter from her end of the phone call before Kim talks to the phone, "Stop joking. Do you like it?"

You get completely confused because she suddenly compliments herself out of the blue, "Huh? What?"

You can hear her dramatic, low sigh and you can imagine her subtle eye roll as she's doing it, "The dress. The one I hung in your closet," she tells you.

You quietly trudge your way to the closet and open it to find the said dress.

"Yes, it's beautiful!" You hurriedly say, not wanting to let her get suspicious as she waits for a response.

"Aren't you lucky to have me as your friend?" she exclaims, sounding so confident with her words.

"I am the luckiest," you tell her as you observe the dress and already regretting hastily approving the dress as you notice it has a plunging neckline.

"I know," she brags and her smirk flashes through your head.

In the background, you hear something is calling her and Kim answers with a shout, "I'm coming."

She dramatically sighs before talking to you, "Work is calling. I'll see you tonight, okay?"

"Yeah, sure, see you tonight!" You're more than relieved to end the phone call with her.

It's too early to celebrate as she hasn't ended the call yet and she always ends the call first. You have an inkling that she'll call your name.

Indeed, she is.

"Hey, don't forget to take your meds, okay?" She says.

That's probably the only yet the most endearing thing she does to you and what makes her your friend.

"Yeah, don't worry about it," you tell her.

It's time to fully assess the dress and you're in awe of how much skin you'll show if you're wearing this. Of course, you have the option not to wear but it all comes down to wearing the dress or facing Kim's wrath.

The former seems to be the safer choice and also because you're not a confrontational person, you like to avoid conflict.

Not wearing the dress means you're going straight into conflict and you don't want that.

With a defeated spirit, you put the dress on even though you have no idea how to move in such a tight dress. You summon up your below-average make-up skill for tonight and put some colors on you.

Not forgetting Kim's words, you take your medicine and wash it down with a long gulp of water. You give yourself a few minutes as you wait for the medicine to work while you sit on the couch holding a glass of water in both hands, staring out at the view from your apartment.

Kim insisted you take this apartment when you're okay with living in the studio. Not only that it's too expensive of a place to live on your own but a big place only makes you inexplicably lonely.

However, after seeing the view from up here, you feel like you're not part of this world in the most humbling way. Seeing the city and the buildings look like pieces of block makes you realize that they don't matter that much. They're all just... material things.

You sigh as you get hit by a wave of melancholia and you take it that the medicine is working.

-

Uncomfortable walking out of your apartment in your dress, you put on a coat as you leave the apartment with the sounds of your heels clicking against the floor.

The owner of the building passed away yesterday, there are so many guests visiting the penthouse where he lived. The first elevator that arrives on your floor is crowded so you skip on getting on that one. You patiently wait for the next one to arrive while clutching your purse in front of you.

A minute later, the other elevator arrives and the doors slide open, you see there's someone else inside. You believe he's been from the penthouse from how he dressed in all black.

You look down to avoid eye contact and step inside, standing at the back of the limited space while trying not to look at the man's face on the reflection from the mirror that walled the elevator.

Arrived in the main lobby, the elevator dings open and the man doesn't waste time but walks out with hands shoved inside his coat pocket.

You fix your coat before stepping out and you feel your feet kicking on something, it's clattering across the floor. You bend down to pick it up, something that you guess is a pocket watch.

Your first thought is that it belongs to the man and you look around to see if he's still around to give it to him, but he's nowhere. It's as if he's gone with the wind.

"Miss, your driver has been waiting outside!" The concierge informs you from behind his desk the second he sees you.

"Yes. I'm coming!" You hurriedly shove the pocket watch inside your purse.

As Kim instructed, you come late to the exhibition and it's already filled with people dressed so impeccably for the occasion. You take a deep breath before entering the scene that is the least you wanted to be.

You take your coat off and hand it to the girl handling the coat check, along with your purse. You feel naked even though you're not, but it's not just the dress, being in the crowd is not your forte.

The first thing to do in a situation like this is to find Kim. You avoid making contact with everyone you're walking past as you look for her in the crowd. It's not hard to spot her when she's always the center of attention anywhere she is.

"There she is!" She gasps the moment she sees you're coming her way.

She puts away her champagne flute and walks up to you, embracing you like the trophy you are, "My rising star!"

Kim puts her hand on the small of your back and smiles brightly while discreetly judging your look.

"Isn't she amazing?" She brags you off to the group of people she's talking to.

You can only sheepishly smile next to her and avoid everyone's eyes.

"She is the artist behind those magnificent sculptures," she adds with that saccharine smile of hers.

They're starting to throw praises at you and you can hear all of them talking at once, making you more uncomfortable staying in there.

You take a step back but Kim's hand does not allow you to escape, she glances at you and takes the cue.

"Excuse us," Kim says to everyone, "Enjoy the exhibition!"

Kim steers you away and pulls you aside, before you can comment on her choice of dress, she snatches the chance from you.

"You could've picked nicker shoes," she whispers through her gritted teeth at you.

You automatically look down to see your heeled shoes which you think match the dress you're wearing.

"I–I think it's—"

She cuts through your words, not giving you a chance to explain. She grabs you by the elbow, "We have no time to change it," she says, then steers you somewhere.

As Kim continues to brag you around like you're the art piece instead of the artist, you start to get that feeling that she's using you.

As a matter of fact, she used you to propel her career as an art dealer. Ever since you agreed to let her sell your art for you, her career took off.

You're more than happy to be of help but she does everything extra and she's been taking you to meet a lot of people that their faces started to blur and it's getting overwhelming that you need to get out of it.

"I'll just—" You barely finish your sentence when you walk away and find somewhere to gain some composure.

You keep walking until you find the restroom and push yourself inside, lock yourself in one of the stalls just sit on the toilet, and just breathe.

You hear the ruckus outside the stall and someone probably needs to use the toilet, you reluctantly get up to start heading outside.

The plan to leave unnoticed comes to a failure when Kim is already there right outside the restroom, "Where have you been?"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself and try to explain, "Kim, I don't think I can do this anymore. I—"

Then again, she never let you finish your sentence, "One more. I need you to meet your new potential buyer."

You grip the side of your dress and you feel like tearing it apart, "No, Kim. You know how I do with people, I don't— I just want to go home," you desperately tell her just to let you go when you're an adult and can do whatever you want.

Kim lets out an exaggerated huff and sends her fringe flying off her forehead, crossing her arms in front of her and you know what's coming for you.

"You think I'm doing this for me?" She asks.

Actually, yes. The initial plan is to sell your art but in the end, she makes it all about her.

"I'm doing it for you!" She says, turning it all on to you. She always finds a way to turn it all on to you, making you feel guilty and defeated.

Talking back to her means that you're saying yes to war and you don't want to fight a losing fight. You fist the fabric of your dress trying to suppress the anger brewing inside you.

"Just one more person," you meekly say.

Her face softens at the sign that you're once again giving her the power, "That's right. Just one more and I'll let you go."

You finally let go of your dress and you wipe your sweaty palm down the back of your dress as she guides you back to the gallery.

"All you have to do is stand next to me, smiling and explaining your art to people," Kim instructed like that wasn't what you've been doing all night.

Except that she forgot that you need to fake all of that.

Kim takes you to one of your sculpture displays and three people in suits have been waiting, talking with drinks in their hands.

"Hello, gentlemen," Kim says with an extra polite voice that makes you shudder at how fake she sounded.

"Heard you're looking for the amazing artist behind these beautiful sculptures?" She continues, presenting you like you're the one who's about to get sold, not the sculpture.

One of the three seems to be the one in charge with a stance that oozes confidence and power, a smirk that only someone who grew up with a silver spoon stuck to his mouth can master. He looks years older than you but his face shows no fine lines but that's just because he never had to frown in his life.

"I adore your art so much," he praises with a teeth-baring smile.

Kim turns at you and introduces him, "This is Nicholas de Ville from the de Ville family."

The way she enunciated his last name only means that this person holds importance and she expects you to impress him.

He holds his hand out next with an expensive, shining wristwatch decorated his wrist, "I'm Nicholas de Ville. You can call me Nick."

He may seem nice and polite because all privileged people learn manners but they only apply that lesson in real life occasionally.

You take his hand or else Kim will force you to do it. You shake his hand for a while and accidentally meet his gaze as you try to take your hand back.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. de Ville!" You say as politely as you can.

"Nick, please!" He insists with a smile.

"And the pleasure is all mine." He adds with a smile that says so many things and they send a chill down your spine.

Kim lets go of her hand and lightly touches you on your arm, "Mr. de Ville wants to know more about your sculptures so..." she quietly pushes you his way.

Nick courteously laughs and says, "Would you be kind enough to give me the tour?"

You consider it for a moment but seeing Kim's glare, you know you have no option.

"Yes, sure, I would love to," you answer with a strained smile.

"Great! Please, lead the way!" Nick says.

When you think the other two are coming with you, it's just you and Nick, walking through your sculptures and you explain each one without trying to bore him like Kim has taught you a few times.

"... it's inspired by the Greek mythology. The apple in the arrow means that when it comes to love, we know no rules, we follow our desires—"

Nick is too busy looking at you instead of looking at the sculpture you're tirelessly explaining to him. Guessing that he isn't interested, you stop talking altogether.

"I'm sorry if I'm rambling," you sheepishly say to him and keep looking at the sculpture.

"No, no, that's okay," Nick says with a smile and takes a stand close to you, also looking at the sculpture.

"Your art is as beautiful as you," he says.

You're getting uncomfortable at how close he is with his elbow brushing yours. You nervously swallow air and lowly mutter, "Thank you."

Nick takes it the wrong way. He takes it that you're replying to his flirtation when you thought he was earnestly complimenting you, he starts to place his hand on your shoulder.

You reflexively shrug his hand away but that only sends his hand down to your back where he can touch your exposed skin. As his fingers make contact with your skin, you take a step back until his hand drops.

"I'm sorry," you regret apologizing for something that you didn't do wrong.

He looks at you as if he didn't just do something wrong or touch you without your consent. You feel repulsed by yourself and take another step back, "I'm sorry, I just need to—"

You keep walking away, away and never looking back.

-

The musty smell and dust that hang in the air welcome you to the studio.

You take your dress off the first thing you do when you get there and put on any clothes you can find in the dresser, a black T-shirt and worn-out jeans.

You put your earrings inside your purse and the pocket watch you collected earlier spills out of it, falling onto the couch.

You're intrigued to see inside the locket to get a hint on who the owner is, you're trying so hard to open it with the strength you have but it won't budge.

Exhausted from trying to open the antique-looking object, you give up and walk over to the sculpture you're working on. You put the pocket watch down on the table next to your carving tools, then pick up a chisel and a hammer.

For every hit of the hammer, you feel like unleashing something that makes you feel lighter and lighter and makes you hit the chisel harder and harder.

You eventually get exhausted and take a step back, leaning against the table while looking at the unshapen block of stone in front of you.

You grope around for a bottle of water and take a sip, putting it down as you wipe your mouth after. Your fingers nudge something as you place your hand on the table, it's the pocket watch blinking under the fluorescent light.

It seems to be calling for you, inviting you to try and uncover the mystery inside.

Looking at the small chisel next to it, you decide to give it another try by prying it open with the chisel. You slip the sharp end in the crack and use your strength to push it open only for the chisel to slide to the slide, cutting the side of your finger.

You drop the pocket watch as blood drops from the wound onto the table. It's not the first time you injured yourself, you know what to do. You go to the bathroom, wash your finger under the running water then grab your first aid kit from the drawer.

After tending to your small injury, you decide to not continue working when you're angry. You take another sip of water and lie down on the couch.

With the quiet that hangs in the room, you slowly drift into sleep.

-

SEVEN DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD.

The darkness greets you even though you have opened your eyes.

Pretty sure you kept one of the lights on when you went to sleep but it's all dark now in the room, you can't see anything but lights that shine through the cracks of the blinds.

You slowly get up from the couch to turn the light on, carefully walking to where the switch is, and once you flip it, lights flood the room.

The first thing you see is the pocket watch that is now open, you walk over to the table and pick it up to see inside that it's just a normal watch but it doesn't have numbers on it like all watches have.

You close it and see that your blood tainted the lid, this time, you can easily open it without a hassle.

"Hello!" A voice says.

Surprised to hear a voice coming from it, you drop it back onto the table. A moment later, you laugh it off, thinking that you misheard it considering that you just woke up from sleep.

With hesitancy, you pick the pocket watch again and look at it. Your thumb wipes the glass cover of the watch.

"Hi, Hello, I'm Minho. I'm a demon. You anointed this talisman with your blood so now we're bound together and—"

It speaks again and in response, you hurl it across the room until it hits the wall and drops onto the floor. You stand there, frozen on your feet, and wonder...

"Look, I've got a whole introductory speech here," the voice says again, coming from the part of the room where the pocket watch is.

For protection, you stand behind the open bathroom door and look at the pocket watch talking like a lunatic you are.

"We got to work together," it says.

You whimper hearing the voice again and you know that it's real, you're not making this up.

"Can you pick me up? Just pick me up. Come on, pick me up! Please?" It demands.

You take cautious steps to get to where the pocket watch lies on the floor.

"That's it, come on. Come on. I won't bite, I promise. Come on," it says as if it could see that you're coming to pick it up.

You swallow air and slowly bend down to pick it up from the floor, holding the pocket watch in your hand.

"As I was saying, you anointed the talisman and the rules are you've got to carry out three human sacrifices over the next seven days or else the world is going to end," it speaks again.

That's a lot of information to take in, not to mention that you're already having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that the pocket watch is talking to you.

"W-what?" You breathlessly say.

"If you want me to help you, you need to permit me entry."

Entry? That sounds like a bad idea. You just stand there and look at the pocket watch.

"Do you permit me entry? Yes or no?" It asks.

You shake your head and convince yourself that maybe it is not real.

"You have to say yes. Just say the word yes."

This is not real, you tell yourself out loud.

"Or let's do this, if you say yes, I'll... I'll stop, okay? I'll go away. You'll never hear from me again like this didn't happen." It persuades.

This is not real, this is not real, you chant in your head.

"Just say yes. Say it! Say it. Say it. Say it," it chants louder and it starts to fill your head, endlessly echoing.

You want it to stop so you impulsively say, "Yes."

The chants stop and the light flickers off, filling the room with darkness again. You whimper in fear as the pocket watch starts ticking in your hand.

You hear something deeply breathing a few feet from behind you. Curious, you spin around on your feet to see what it is, but you can't see it as it's lurking in the dark

However, you feel good about not being able to see it as fear creeping up inside you. You walk backward until you hit the wall behind you.

"Hey, come on, what's the matter?" The thing says as he takes a step forward, revealing his form to you.

The first thing you can make out the shape of that thing is two long horns on his head and two red eyes.

"All right. I lied about going away," he says in a deep, growling voice.

"My regular appearance is a bit too much for this realm."

He takes a step back and disappears in the dark. After a while, he takes another step to the front and has already taken a different shape. He looks normal now, as in looking like a human and not just any human, he looks like...

"I peered into your soul and apparently, this is a physical look you find appealing so..." he says with his arms spread out and a proud grin on his face.

"I don't know. Let me have a look!" He walks over to the mirror hung on the wall next to you.

He looks just like the sculpture you made, he has a sharp nose, chiseled jaws, and a hair color as intense as red roses go. You feel a mix of fear, awe, and confusion inside and it's getting overwhelming.

He leans close to the mirror and fixes his hair, "Wow!"

He seems impressed by how he looks, "Okay, isn't it what you want?" He turns to you.

Not getting an answer from you, he smiles, then says, "Uh... I mean, I can work with this."

You can only whimper with your mouth parted open, having a hard time wrapping your head around this situation. If it's happening or not, is he real or not, did you take your meds or not?

"You have to calm down so we can talk. Just talk to me!" Minho says, noticing that you're in a state of panic.

For a split second, you see his eyes flash like those belonging to feline creatures, gleaming like two marbles in the dark. You can feel cold sweat on your back as you slump down against the wall until you're sitting down on the floor.

He squats down in front of you and reaches for your head but you're quick to dodge away from it.

"You know, we have got to work together," he assures you.

It's not fair that he has a face that came from your imagination, it gives you a sense of familiarity that lures you to give in. However, you're not sure if you should be giving in to him.

You bang the back of your head to the wall, close your eyes, and repeatedly chant like it's a mantra, "You're not real. You're not real. You're not real."

But that is not enough to expel him. You open your eyes and still find him there. hand and a grin.

"Like I said, we have got to work together," he tells you again.

To give you the space to gather your thoughts, he walks around the studio while talking, "You marked the talisman. I don't make the rules."

With the lights turning back on, your eyes can easily follow his figure going around the room and looking at the sculpture you're working on.

His fingers slowly graze the rough surface of the carved stone and then he turns his head at you.

"Basically, we need to deliver three human sacrifices by next Friday or else it's..." he informs you again as if you haven't heard him the first time, "burning skies time."

You can feel anxiety rising inside you and your throat is closing up, making it harder for you to breathe.

"I sense you need convincing. Uh..." Minho walks up to you again and offers his hands to you.

You look at his hands for a moment before letting him help you to get up from the floor. You imagine your hands reaching for fragments of your imagination but instead of that, you feel his warm skin and firm grip as he hoists you up until you're standing on your feet.

If he's not real then how can you hold him?

He looks at you for a second to make sure you're okay then nods, "Let me show you how this will play out, alright? What will happen if we don't succeed," he says.

He walks to stand behind you and puts a hand in front of your eyes, "You ready?" He asks, his hot breath fans your neck as he speaks.

You're not sure what he's asking you to get ready for. You're not even sure if you're living the reality right now.

"Ready?" He asks again and once again his breath tickles your ear.

"3, 2, 1!"

As if you're being transported to another time and place, you open your eyes to see fire. It's the studio but it is on fire.

"This is what we're dealing with!" Minho says but you can't see him anywhere.

Fire is everywhere and you can feel the heat of it burning your skin and thick smoke filling your lungs that you start coughing, retching for air.

"Scorching wall of flame. It's agonizing death for all and so on," he continues.

You're flailing around to get air, walking to the window to open it only to find it hot to touch and you see that the whole city burns with you. You hear people screaming and sirens blaring everywhere but anywhere you look, it's just blazing fire.

You get away from the window until your back hits the table behind you and snaps you back to reality. Your head turns to the side and see Minho there, leaning against the table next to you.

"See, burning people they smell like... a burnt slice of meat on a griddle. It's better if you dissociate from it," he coyly says.

The images are so vivid that you feel the need to escape it, run away from here and so you do. You make a run to the door and he's already standing there next to it.

"If we're being honest, I don't want the apocalypse to come about any more than you do," he says.

You turn the knob and open it, running through the hall that leads to the exit door. Yet Minho is already there too.

"So let's stop it happening, you and me, mmh?" He says to you.

"All we have to do is deliver three sacrifices in seven days," he pops at the end of the hall.

You yank the door open and find him standing outside the door.

"It's only three killings," he says with a malicious laugh.

You rush to climb down the steps trying to escape what you know is like trying to get out of your head, it's inescapable.

"Animals don't count. You have to do humans," Minho informs at the base of the stairs.

You hurriedly unlock the iron gate and pull it open, running into the street in the middle of the night but of course, he's already there too.

"We can do like one kill a day but I'm good with one kill in two days and—"

You decide to go the other way from where Minho is standing and just aimlessly walking to avoid him. You know the neighborhood but not as good as when it's at night.

You walk down the stairs that lead to the riverbank, feeling more afraid of Minho instead of being mugged at night.

"That is fewer people than die falling off ladders in the same time period," Minho magically appears on the stairs, leaning against the railing.

"You'd be less lethal than a ladder," he adds with a sly smirk.

Your eyes are watery either from the cold wind or the anxiety taking over you. You sniffle before talking to him, "If I talk to you, you're real so I'm not going—"

You walk away before you can finish your sentence and walk along the riverbank, hugging yourself.

"Well, we started conversing already so that ship has sailed."

You can't believe that he's still following you when he knows exactly why you are trying to get away.

"No, it hasn't," you persist when you know he's right.

"Oh, oh yes it has," he talks back with a mocking tone.

You stop on your track and grunt in frustration, bending down to pick whatever is close to you.

Minho stops walking as well and says, "Don't worry. We're a team. I'm on your side, you know?"

He takes a step forward and keeps talking, ignoring that he's the reason why you're so frustrated.

"Let's just get kill number one under your belt, mmh?" He says in a softer tone.

You turn at him, your finger pointing right at his sharp nose and sternly tell him, "You can stop it because I am not killing anyone!"

You take a deep breath to calm yourself down and try to face him again, "You're not real so I don't why you keep talking to me," you snarl.

Minho coyly smiles at you and calmly responds, "That's what I'm here for. Moral support!"

He takes even a closer step to you and lowers his voice, "So, just hold on to that rock and hit someone with it!"

You get confused by what he said, "What rock?"

He eyes your hand on your side, "The one in your hand, love!" He answers.

You don't even realize you've been holding it until he pointed it out. The moment you know, you can feel its weight in your hand.

You gasp in surprise and glare at Minho, "I'm not doing what you say."

You hear footsteps coming from under the bridge and turn around to see a middle-aged man, "Are you alright, Miss?"

But Minho sees it as an opportunity, he stands and looms behind you, whispering evil things into your head.

"Mmmh... yeah," he hums in victory.

"He's perfect. No witnesses. Talk about beginner's luck," he whispers to you so close that it feels like he's living inside your head.

You feel his hand resting on your shoulder as he further persuades you, "Just one quick pop to the head and you're done."

For a second, you wanted to do what he said just so he could stop bothering you. However, the conscience in you is talking you out of it.

You walk toward the man and try to seek help from him, "Please, make him stop!" You say, gesturing to Minho who's standing right next to you.

The man looks confused by what you said and asks, "Make who stop?"

Disoriented by what's real or not, you keep looking back at Minho, then at the man, getting pushed to where you hit your limit.

The man walks up to you, feeling more concerned for you that he asks again, "Is everything alright?"

The relentless demon he is, Minho stands close next to you and whispers, "Would it help if I told you I can see into this man's soul and he absolutely deserves to die?"

This time you know it's his way to get what he wants, to get you to do the deed. You look away and hastily shout, "Shut up!"

Yet Minho keeps talking about the man as he's giving you a stare, one that you're way too familiar with, and convinces you that he thinks you're crazy.

"He has a wife and a daughter, you want to know what he does to them?" Minho's words hold intense hatred in them like you can feel the bitterness of it on your tongue.

You look at him to see if he's just tricking you to kill the man, "Don't trust me? Well, get a load of this!"

Minho covers your eyes with his hand again and this time, images of the man abusing his wife and daughter over and over again that you can't bear to watch anymore.

He snaps you back to reality again and says, "You'll save them both from years of pain, shame, and guilt."

Fueled by the rage from what you've seen through Minho's vision, you launch yourself at the man and hit him hard on the head, sending him tumbling to the side and into the river.

You stand there watching his body sinking into the water until the air stops bubbling to the surface of water and that's when you're certain that he's dead.

The man is dead.

Despite the shock, you manage to walk away while still carrying the rock in your hand, and once you realize you've been holding to it long enough. You throw it into the river then break into a run back to the studio.

You vomit everything into the toilet bowl once you're back in the studio, retching nothing but saliva and air.

Minho is standing at the doorway of the bathroom as he says, "It takes some used to but a couple more of that and I'll be out of your hair," he says.

You flush the toilet and sit on the bathroom floor, looking at him with teary eyes and the shock that hasn't left your body yet.

He pulls out the pocket watch and shows you that the Roman number written inside has gone one line, "See? One line has gone which means one sacrifice registered. Two to go."

You get up from the floor and drag yourself to the couch, feeling so drained by whatever has driven you to do unimaginable things, one that you thought you'd never done in your life.

-

Morning has passed but you can't find the energy to live for the day.

You're lying down on the couch watching the sky turn brighter with every hour passed. It hasn't sunk in yet what you did last night. It feels like a dream but at the same time, you can still feel the weight of the rock in your hand.

Minho has been quiet but you know he's lurking in the room and he decides to interfere by standing in front of you.

He tips his head to the side and asks, "How long are you going to stay like this?"

He then sits on the other end of the couch and says, "Well, you have to, at least, do whatever it is you do as a sculptor. You can't have people getting suspicious."

How come he takes it lightly? How did he get so calm after telling you to kill a man and watch you doing it?

"Fucking shut up!" You shout at him.

Talking to him makes everything unbearably real and it makes you recollect what happened last night. The guilt, the disgust you feel for yourself, the blood on your hands, you can see everything now under the daylight.

"I killed a man," you croak, saying it hurts that tears start to crawl out of you.

"I've killed someone," you meekly say with a tear rolling down from the corner of your eyes.

"Yeah, but that was hours ago," Minho nonchalantly says.

"I keep feeling the crack of his skull on the rock," you pause to sniffle and turn to look at Minho, "I did that."

But he wouldn't get what you feel because he's not a human in the first place. Minho is a demon.

"It's your fault. You're not even—" You stop talking because it's no use to talk to an entity that knows no compassion.

You brush your hair to the back and deeply sigh. Turning your head at Minho again to ask, "Why is this happening to me?"

You use the heel of your hand to press on your eye to stop crying, "I'm not a bad person."

"No, no, no," Minho quickly denies.

He moves to stand behind the couch and leans close to you, "It wouldn't work if you were. It has to be someone corruptible," he explains.

Your forehead wrinkles and forms a questioning look on your face, trying to make sense of what he said.

"If you think about it, what's happening here, it reflects really well on your character," he says with a smile.

What he said only assures you that you are a bad person. What you did is the reflection of what you truly are, a bad person.

You nod and wipe your wet cheek with the back of your hand. You get up to sit on the couch and grab your purse, rummaging inside to pull out your phone.

"What are you doing?" Minho asks with a panicked voice.

You dial the police line on your phone and show it to him, "Calling the police."

He jolts on his feet and sits next to you on the couch as you hit the call button.

"But why?" He asks.

You can hear the dialing tone ringing so close to your ear, "So they'll arrest me," you simply answer.

Minho nervously chuckles, "Then you won't be able to do the other sacrifices," he reminds you to rethink your choices.

"Good!" You shortly respond, trying to stay in your right mind this time.

"Then the Apocalypse will happen and billions will die. I know, I know, I get it. You don't want blood on your hand but if it saves billions..." He's babbling, desperately trying to stop you from turning yourself in.

The way he puts it that way, he makes you choose the lesser between the two evils. 

"Hello, police department, may I help you?" The operator speaks on the phone.

Kill three people who deserve it or save billions of innocent people?

You find yourself hanging up the call and putting your phone away, once again failing to do the right thing.

"See? You're a good person!" Minho says as he exhales in relief.

To be honest, you don't know what's good or bad, right or wrong anymore. It's one big blur to you.

You feel frustrated once again, you feel like a failure but on the bigger picture, you're trying to stop the world from ending.

But can you really save everyone?

-

You can't wait to dwell on everything in the comfort of your apartment. Before you can do all that, you need to set boundaries with him. You face him and look him right in the eyes, "I have six days to kill two more so please, give me a break for now."

Minho gets quiet for a moment before nodding in agreement, "That's fair."

Feeling the need to wash yourself from whatever it is clinging to your body, you get a shower and take your meds to help you decompress while sitting on the end of your bed in your bathrobe.

"I don't know why you take those pills," Minho says as he enters your room.

You quietly sigh at him and say, "Can you at least give me a few minutes until it's working?"

"Want to wash it down with wine?" He offers, showing the bottle of red in his hand.

You shake your head, "I can't drink alcohol after taking antidepressants," you answer, not sure why bother answering him.

"That sucks!" He says and puts the wine bottle down on top of your dresser, "I was thinking we could celebrate our first kill."

You feel a little faint at the mention of the word kill and celebrate being put in one sentence. You climb onto the bed and pull your duvet, "I need to rest."

Minho appears at the end of your bed, looking down at you with his dark, wide eyes, "That's right. We have a lot to do tomorrow."

"Can you turn the lights out for me?"

"Certainly."

The room turns dark but you get a newfound comfort in it.

"Goodnight," Minho's voice caresses your ears like a spring breeze.

You don't want to get used to this but you feel inexplicably at ease that there's someone else with you in this vast emptiness.

"Goodnight, Minho."

-

SIX DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

You jolt awake to the sounds of your phone ringing on your bedside table and you know who it is without having to look at the contact name. Your fingers are tapping the phone screen as you squint your eyes to make sure you hit the accept call button.

"Yeah?" You ask as you put the phone on the side of your face while you're lying on your side with your eyes closed.

"You're still sleeping?" Kim asks, noticing the sleep in your voice.

"Mm-mmh," you hum in answer.

"You know what time it is?"

"I don't know. Nine or ten?" You wildly guess by how badly you want to go back to sleep.

You hear her sighing from the other line of the call, "It's almost 2 in the afternoon," she says.

You force your eyes to open to check the time yourself and see that it is indeed two in the afternoon.

"Oh?" You innocently gasp.

Realizing that may piss her off, you hurried to shift the conversation elsewhere, "Yeah, uh... why are you calling again?"

You fear that she's going to be mad about you abruptly leaving the exhibition or worse if she knew about Nick. You hold your breath, anticipating her answer.

"Oh, yes, I have good news," she says with a smile that you can feel from your end of the line.

"You sold four sculptures, darling!" She squeals.

That's exciting news but you don't have it in you to participate in that excitement, yet you feel relieved you can properly breathe at ease.

"That's... That's great!" You meekly say while raking your hair to the back with your fingers.

"I've been calling you since yesterday, you know that?"

"Oh? I, uhm..." You take a moment to think of an answer.

Summoned a demon? Found out that you have seven days to the end of the world? Killed someone to stop it?

"I needed—"

"Never mind!" She rudely cuts you off, "Guessing from how tired you sounded, you must be going straight back to work, huh?"

The sculpture is still a chunk of unshapen stone but yeah, you worked on it just a bit. Well, a work is a work.

"Yeah, I-I did," you sputter your answer yet thankful that all of her guesses are off the mark.

"I'll come with the paperwork tomorrow. For now, you can rest now or work some more, knock yourself out," she says, couldn't care less about what you're doing now that you've made money and she got to feed on a few percent of it.

"Thanks, Kim!" You say, because it's better to always be on her good side.

"Oh, come on! We both working hard," she kindly refuses but you know she feels entitled to this.

"Let's have a dinner to celebrate," she suggests.

"Yeah, yeah," you half-heartedly answer.

"Talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay."

"Bye!"

You don't even bother to say it back knowing that she'll hang up right after she said her bye. Since you've woken up already, you sit up on the bed and pull your knees up, hugging your feet as you gather your thoughts.

In your peripheral vision, you see a flash of red from the doorway of your room. You turn to look and see Minho standing with the side of his body leaning against the doorframe.

The all-black outfit he's wearing makes his honey skin glow and his hair look like a blazing fire under the sunlight. He smiles once he notices your eyes are on him.

"Morning, sunshine!" He sweetly greets you with a smile that is a little unsettling but a whole lot attractive.

He crosses his arms in front of him, exposing the veins coiling his forearms, "Oh, wait, it's way past noon," he says with a grin.

Looking at him only reminds you of the responsibility you're carrying on your shoulders: saving billions of people from being incinerated.

"Are you always like this or...?" Minho asks, breaking the silence that hung in the room as you think of the dire situation you're in.

Minho approaches you and stands at the end of the bed, "You can't stay in all day. We only have five and a half days left," he reminds you of the time-sensitive quest you're in.

The only way to save those billions is by killing three people. That's the only thing on the pro list, there are just too many cons, mainly on the killing part. The only good thing that comes out of it so far is that you only need to do two more killings.

God! What have you become?

"What should I do?" You hopelessly ask him even though it's a bad idea to ask a demon such a question.

"Just carry on as usual so the people around you don't get spooked," he answers.

It's you and him, him and you, there's no one else you can seek help from.

Minho is right. You can't just sit here and watch the day goes by or else the thing you've done would come to a waste.

You slowly scoot over to sit on the edge of the bed and rub the sleep of your eyes, not ready to face the day when you know you only have six days left to stop the end of the world.

"And while we're going on about the day we can decide who to kill next," Minho adds.

The devilish grin looks beautiful on his sculpted face but everything he says sending a chill down your spine.

-

"Oh, an old lady!" Minho exclaims as an elderly lady enters the elevator.

You silently watch as he scoots closer to her and smells her head, "She smells like... oh! She's sweet."

You silently groan in the corner watching what he's doing.

He places his hand on the lady's shoulder and says, "She can't stop thinking about the end though. She can't wait for it to come."

He looks at you with that wild grin plastered on his face, "You'd be doing her a favor."

You lightly shake your head at him to make him stop playing around the poor lady but he doesn't get the clues.

"She dreams of death. Even now—"

"Shut up!" You say through your gritted teeth.

The old lady turns to look at you, "What is it, my dear?"

You quickly put on a smile for her, "Oh, nothing," you politely say.

Minho walks up to stand next to you again and whispers in your ear, "Just do it. No one will miss her."

"Shut up!" You whisper back while throwing daggers with your eyes at him.

"She's nearly dead already!"

Thankfully, the elevator dings open and shoots his idea down as you step out of the elevator.

"We need to start to pick someone!" He persists as he follows you walking in the lobby.

Minho is such a nuisance.

It's hard to ignore him when he keeps talking, making remarks about everyone he sees, and constantly around you the whole time.

It's when you're working on your sculpture that you get to immerse yourself in your work and disassociate from reality.

All you hear is the slamming sound of your hammer on the chisel and pieces of stone falling onto the floor. Looking down at the mess you made, you spot one particular piece of stone lying close to your feet. You stare at it for too long you get the recollection of that night.

The weight of the rock in your hand, how you bashed someone's head with it, and the splashing sound of the man falling into the water, all of that vividly playing in the back of your head.

You stagger backward and drop your chisel onto the floor, the clattering sound echoing in the spacious studio.

"I've been meaning to tell you this," Minho appears from behind the sculpture, startling you.

"We should order food," he suggests.

You put away your hammer and take off your mask, walking to the mini fridge to get a bottle of water.

"You're a demon. You feed on..." You think for a moment to finish your sentence as you unscrew the cap of the bottle.

He snatches the flyer stuck to the fridge door and asks, "Pizza?"

You close the fridge and walk over to the couch, plopping yourself down before chugging some water into your system.

"You need to eat so you can—"

"Kill?" You finish his sentence.

Minho scrunches his nose and sits on the armrest of the couch next to you, "I was about to say think but yeah, that too," he says.

You untie your pinafore and throw it aside, he isn't wrong to say that you need to eat. What's the point of saving the world if you're going to die of starvation?

You let out a sigh and grab the flyer from his hand, typing the numbers on your phone screen.

"Cheese pizza, please? With a lot of pepperoni!"

How can you believe that he's a demon when his choice of pizza topping is like a toddler's?

-

"Good evening, Miss!" The concierge greets you as he sees you enter the door.

"Hi," you greet back, impatiently wanting to get back to your apartment to dwell on your fate again.

"Miss Kim came by and dropped something for you," he informs, taking out a big envelope from your mailing box.

There's a faint sound coming from the small TV tuned to a news broadcast when you come to the desk to collect it.

"Here it is, Miss," he slides the big brown envelope across the shiny surface of the desk. There's a note on top of it which you immediately recognize as Kim's.

You open to do a quick check on what's inside when you hear a glimpse of the news from the TV.

"...man found dead in the river has been identified as Ben Watson, a financial officer of a bank company, leaving a wife and a seven-year-old daughter who has been notified about his tragic death..."

You glance at the small screen and see the photograph of the man you killed that night. You can't possibly be wrong about this when you remember the horror on his face as you lifted the rock before swinging it hard to his head.

"Is there anything wrong, Miss?" The concierge asks.

You snap yourself out of your daze and put the envelope close to your chest as if someone about to steal it from you.

"No, no," your voice is quivering in panic at the sight of the man you killed.

"Thank you," you abruptly the conversation with gratitude and walking fast to the elevator.

The warm water doesn't work to calm you down when you're tainted inside. You feel filthy, inside and out. You feel sick seeing your reflection in the mirror.

You've been holding your medicine in your hand but you need something stronger, you ditch the pill and run to the kitchen.

You pull out the wine you have in the kitchen cabinet and drink it straight from the bottle, chugging it like it's water. You gasp when you stop drinking, taking the bottle with you as you sit on the sofa while you're still in your bathrobe.

"This is how you're going to end the day?" Minho asks, taking the bottle of wine from you to take a sip.

"Can you stop talking about killing for just—" You choke on air as anger bubbles up inside you.

Minho holds his hands up in defeat and leans back on the sofa next to you, "I'm just saying..." he meekly says.

The silence only resides for a minute until he speaks again, "Look, the earlier you get it done—" he stops talking when you shoot him a glare.

You take the bottle of wine from him and take a long gulp, a drop of wine escapes the corner of your mouth, dripping down your chin.

You aggressively wipe it with the sleeve of your bathrobe and recline on the sofa, looking out at the city lights that look like pinpricks in the dark of the night.

"I'm crazy..." you sadly remark.

Those words remind you of a sobering fact that what people think of you: crazy.

Ever since you were still an art student, people often found you talking to yourself in class, always in your little world with your imaginary friend. That leads you to this solitary life because normal people avoid crazy.

"People are right about me. I'm crazy," you state again, and saying it out loud makes your heart aches.

Minho turns his head and looks at you with his dark eyes that weirdly provide you warmth, "You're not crazy."

But why would a normal person kill a person because a demon told him to? You don't even know if he's real and not a product of your imagination.

"I'm a murderer..." you say with a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart.

He scoots closer until he sits close next to you, his shoulder bumps with yours on the big sofa that could fit five people. He looks at you and gently says, "Yeah, but not a crazy one."

Minho has a way of looking at bad things positively. You chuckle at the irony of his words. You can't tell if you should be happy that you're not crazy or sad that you're indeed a murderer.

He slumps down on the sofa to be on the same level as you, also turning his head to look at the view, "Want to know something?"

Instead of answering, you take a sip of the wine. You know he'll keep talking even if you refuse him.

"This is actually my first assignment," he shares.

He drops his hand on the space on the sofa, merely inches away from yours, "It's more of an initiation, sort of earning my wings."

You look at him and get a little taken aback by the proximity you can see yourself in his eyes. You almost forget what you were trying to say to him, "What are you trying to say?"

You look away because he looks exactly like the one you envisioned on your sculpture, divinely beautiful that it's hard to comprehend.

"I'm saying that I'm new to this too," he answers.

Again, you can't tell if you should be happy or sad to know that. Strangely though, you find comfort in his words.

You look at his hand splayed so close to yours and it evokes the curiosity in you that needs to be fed. You gently flip over his hand and gently slip your fingers on the spaces between his fingers, you can feel the warmth and the roughness of his finger pads on each finger.

Minho is real, he's real, you perpetually assure yourself.

You glance at him and he's looking at you, your eyes meet in a tender gaze.

"Are you real, Minho?"

You're aware of how much that question weighs. If the answer is no, you know the insurmountable pain you brought onto yourself.

He slowly blinks and you can see his dark lashes fanning out so beautifully. His crimson-red lips open and says, "I'm as real as you want me to be."

Words aren't enough to convince you. With the despair filling your heart, you lean in and innocently put your lips on his. It's a kiss that feels more than just a physical act, one that you didn't know you needed.

After getting the reassurance that you need, you pull away. However, the hand lingering on your jaw tells otherwise. He touches your face with just his fingertips yet it's enough to send a tingle inside.

Slowly, he leans in to kiss your closed eyelids ever so softly and before you know it, he brings your face closer to place a tender kiss on your lips. 

And for the first time in your life, you feel the warmth no one has ever given you.

-

FIVE DAYS TO THE END OF THE WORLD

"You wake up early!" Minho says as you dress up to get ready for the day.

You ignore his words, continue collecting your things around the room, and put them into your bag.

"Are you trying to match your clothes with me?" He says, looking at your all-black outfit while sitting on the headrest of the sofa.

This morning, you woke up on the sofa still in your bathrobe and a blanket covered your body. The first thing you remember is you kissed him last night and somehow, it convinces you to keep going with the quest.

However, you still feel conflicted with what you do. You need to make sure of one thing.

"How about this handsome fucker?" Minho asks, pointing to the other person riding the elevator with you.

The man looks indeed handsome, he dressed so impeccably when it's only ten in the morning. He catches you looking and smiles at you.

You politely smile back and look away only to face Minho who's standing on the other corner of the elevator.

"He'll be losing his hair at the age of 32 and spends the next 29 years taking it out on his wife," he whispers even though no one can hear him but you.

The taxi ride to the hospital only takes fifteen minutes and you know where to go right away from the array of flower arrangements outside the separate building from the main hospital.

"Please tell me you're not doing what I'm thinking?" Minho asks in a concerned voice.

You wish to be able to shut him up for a few minutes until you can find what you're looking for. The hall is packed with people in black attire to what you can safely assume are the guests of the mourning family on the two funeral services being held by two different families.

You read the sign that leads to the Watson family yet pretend to be the one visiting the other family. Before you can sneak into their funeral service, you see someone taking the daughter outside.

"This is a bad idea!" Minho panickly says.

It's kind of alarming to hear because it's the first time he sounded genuinely concerned. You follow where the little girl is being taken and turns out, she's being taken to the park outside, probably to avoid her feeling overwhelmed.

"You're not a relative. People will get suspicious of you!" Minho nervously whispers.

You come over to the two men chatting and kindly ask for a cigarette even though you don't smoke. You stand at the other side of the door and take a drag of the smoke to be seen convincing.

"I know you're worried..." Minho sighs.

He stands next to you with his head hovering close to your ear. He takes a breath before talking, "She's not in mourning. She's not not mourning," he says as you both quietly watch the girl sitting on the bench and drinking a juice box.

"Happy that it's finished but sad that he's dead. But it has finished!" He emphasizes the last word.

You take another drag and accidentally do it excessively, sending you into a coughing fit.

"You spared her another five years of it. A lifetime of therapy," Minho explains, "a lifetime!"

You look at him to see if he meant what he said. He's a demon after all, the vision he forced you to see could be misleading, a trick to make you do what he says.

He looks back at you and smiles, "She's a mom at 29. A nan at 57," he shares.

See? He knows how to comfort you even though you don't ask for it. You give up on pretending to smoke and stab the cigarette butts onto the big ashtray. You shove your hands into the pocket of your jacket and start walking away to the parking lot.

"Why are you telling me this?" You curiously ask.

He nonchalantly shrugs as he walks next to you, "I just thought you'd like to know."

-

"Did you see that?" Minho shouts as he leisurely watches TV with his feet up on the couch.

You pretend not to hear him and continue sculpting, hitting the hammer harder, louder to drown out his voice. As if he read your mind, he appears behind you and places both of his hands on your shoulders.

"You should see this!" He insists, steering your body and making you watch the TV.

It's a broadcast of night news about climate change and he magically changes the channel to show news about nuclear testing.

"It's manifesting. Do you understand?"

Minho keeps switching the channel to show you every bad there is happening in the world, everything that shows the sign that the world is close to ending.

You lightly shrug him off and say, "We got this kind of news a few years ago but—"

Minho holds you by the shoulders and shakes you awake, "This is real. We don't have much time and you're the only one who can stop it!" He reminds you of the harsh truth.

Somehow that only makes you question why you have to be the one to bear such responsibility. Billions of people on earth and they chose you?

"I'm not ready yet. I'm—"

"Don't you want to see that little girl live her peaceful future?" Minho asks.

This is where you know he's being the demon he is, using your weakness to his advantage and making you give in to the temptation.

It's not so much a temptation when you have no other options, it's killing or being engulfed in flames on Friday. You muster up your courage and think of something to do.

The first killing was what Minho said it was: a beginner's luck, the man happened to be there and an abusive bastard, even in his grave, he shall not rest in peace.

This time, you plan to do it meticulously and without mistakes. You walk to the kitchen and pull open the drawer, taking out a knife you occasionally use to cut your sandwiches.

Minho shakes his head in disapproval of your choice of weapon, "You're not a knife person," he concludes.

You look at him, demanding an explanation behind that haste conclusion.

"It's messy. You could hurt yourself," he explains.

That sounds right. You put the knife back into the drawer and look around the studio to find potential killing weapons.

Minho leans into your side and whispers, "Let's choose something that is more you!"

You look at him and see that he's eyeing the table full of your sculpting tools.

You pick up the medium chisel and show it to him to seek his approval. You meet another disapproval as he strongly shakes his head.

"It's too specific. They'll know it's you. You're the only sculptor living in the area," he gives you an insight into how the devil's mind works.

You must admit that he just saved you from making a mistake. You pick another weapon that you're familiar with but also gives you the upper hand to do the killing. You pick up the hammer and turn around to show him.

A smile rises on his face as he nods in approval, "That's you! You're a basher!"

You bring the hammer close and observe it, it feels good around your hand since it's a tool that you work with most of your life.

"You've had the practice now. It'll be easier this time," Minho says with a sinister smile.

You want to believe his words so much but the nerves get to you. Your breathing becomes erratic once you realize what you're going to do with the hammer.

Minho puts his hand on the small of your back and holds you steady, "Liquor courage! That's what you need! Booze!" He suggests.

"I don't keep any alcohol in the studio," you meekly say.

Considering that sculpting involves a lot of sharp objects, it's wise to not keep anything that would dull your focus.

"Also, I just took an antidepressant an hour ago," you inform him.

"Oh, shit!" He curses and leans his body to the back, against the table.

Minho crosses his arms in front of him, then rubs his chin as he thinks of something. He then leers at you with a smirk dancing on his face, "Well, do you want a drink?"

-

There's a bar a few blocks away from your studio.

You got here in need of liquid courage and there's plenty of them here. You plan to only consume enough alcohol just to calm the nerves but not too much to lose your focus.

It gets you anxious to step into a new environment. You decide to go straight to order drinks.

"Whiskey, please?" You say to the bartender with a handlebar mustache.

Bartenders tend to remember the faces they have seen and yours must not have registered into his memory bank. He puts away the cloth he's holding.

"You want ice with it?" He asks.

"I'll have it dry," you answer since you came here for the alcohol, not for refreshment.

"Easy, love. We have work to do," Minho reminds as he props a hand against the countertop.

Knowing that one drink wouldn't be enough and you don't want to bother the bartender again for a drink, you decide to double.

"Make that two, please!" You hurriedly say before the bartender starts making your order.

"You don't have to get one for me," Minho grins at you.

The bartender takes another glass with him to finally fill them with your choice of potion.

"I didn't," you whisper back at him.

You immediately pay for it and bring your drinks with you to the empty spot in the corner of the bar, hidden behind the pool table.

You slowly sip your drink and feel it running through your system, stripping a layer of senses off of you, making you less aware of your surroundings.

"Okay, you see anyone tasty?" Minho asks as he sits next to you.

He cranes his neck looking for the next human sacrifice among the people who are enjoying their concoctions. His finger points to the guy with a beanie and drinking a pint of beer.

"Oh, that one perfect!" He exclaims.

He stacks his hands on top of the table and leans forward as he further speaks, "Burglaries. Mostly target the elderly. What do you reckon?" He turns to you for opinions.

The alcohol is not quite there yet so you take a longer sip. You feel the alcohol burns your throat and you wince from the bitter aftertaste.

"No?" He asks as he looks at you.

You know he's asking about the human sacrifice, not the alcohol but the answer is the same, "No."

Minho moves on. His eyes are pacing around the room to study people and check their backgrounds with his evil power.

He taps your shoulder as he finds his next candidate, "See that girl with the pints?"

You can easily spot the girl with curly hair, carrying two pints of beer in her hands.

Minho leans in close to your ear to give his intel, "She went on holiday when she was 12 years old and saw her sister drown in a swimming pool."

He suddenly lowers his voice as he tells you the rest of the story, "She could have pulled her out but she just stood there and watched."

Maybe it's true that people are the scariest.

They may look ordinary and good and all yet inside, lies this darkness that they buried deep inside them. If Minho hadn't told you, you would have taken her as a pretty girl with a nice smile and nothing more.

Minho pulls at the sleeve of your shirt and points to another guy, talking to his friend by the pool table. You're about to wave him off again until the guy turns his head and you know who it is.

"How about him? He likes to secretly film girls by drug them and once he—"

"Sent a girl into overdose," you finish his sentence.

Everyone knows who Tim Shaw other than a student in our faculty and more importantly, people know what he likes to do to innocent girls yet no one dares to make him take responsibility for what he did.

Until one night, he drugged a girl and left her on the cold floor of a club, unconscious. There's no evidence that he drugged her or it was he drugged, ended up with him getting dropped off of all charges.

You have one more drink to finish and you gulp it in one go, wanting to use this opportunity to get back for what he did to that poor, innocent girl.

Minho triumphantly smiles, knowing that you have set a target on Tim's head.

"I think we have a contender," he concludes.

-

Tim is exiting the bar and you take it as an advantage.

You don't need to lure him out, you wait a minute before you follow him outside to not seem conspicuous. Once you're outside, you look side to side to see where Tim is going.

"Perfect location. No witnesses," Minho answers as you both find him turning to the back of the bar.

Tim seems to hear your rushed footsteps and turns around to see you. He seems to be taken aback and you doubt that he'll recognize you. Being crazy has its advantages, you're off the asshole's radar.

You nervously laugh as he looks at you. You quickly think of something to say, "Oh, my God! It's really you, Tim!" You say with fake enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry but who..." he gets all defensive.

"I'm—" You don't know how to explain yourself other than 'the insane one from art school'.

"Oh, wait, you're that girl, the sculptor, the... uh," he brakes before he can say the infamous title of yours.

"The freaky one?" You playfully say.

He bursts into laughter and nods, "Hey, don't get me wrong. I like freaky," he says.

Minho points to the carts of empty bottles and gestures for you to use them instead of the hammer inside your bag that weighs your shoulder the longer you're carrying it.

"I was just getting a drink but it doesn't feel good drinking alone," you lie even though that's how you prefer to enjoy your poison.

"Yeah, I bet," he says with a grin that showcases his whitened teeth and malicious intent.

"How about drinking at my place?" He offers.

"Home turf. Even better," Minho comments, appearing behind you.

You don't want to seem desperate to be with Tim because honestly, you're just stalling to find the perfect opportunity to kill him. It's time to put what you learned from Kim into practice.

"I, uhm..." you rub the back of your neck and shyly smile at him, "I don't think that's..."

As you pretend to consider his offer, he's secretly checking you out. His eyes travel up and down your body, you bet he thinks of lewd things even though you're dressed like a bible salesman with the same outfit you wore to the funeral service.

He takes a step forward and smiles at you, "I live not far from here. You can easily crawl back here if you think I'm a bad drinking partner," he seduces.

Tim must have thought you were as gullible as the other. Oh, he has no idea the surprise you have for him!

"If you don't mind, yeah," you say with a low giggle.

"Okay," he says with a triumphant smile.

His house is indeed only two blocks away from the bar and he keeps boasting about how he owns a house from his inheritance and the rising price of property these days.

"Please, come in!" He lets you into his house.

You step on a crumpled beer can as you enter the living room and are horrified at the amount of trash littering the place.

"A few friends and I watched a football match last night," he concisely explains.

He takes off his jacket and hangs it on the coat rack, "How about we drink in my room?"

You uneasily glance at Minho and he nods. You look back at Tim then put on a fake smile for him, "Yes."

He leads the way up the stairs and you follow him, climbing the steps with the hammer getting heavier and heavier inside your bag.

Tim turns around and sees you being hesitant, "There's no need to be shy now," he says with a lopsided grin.

You respond with a smile, keeping your head tilted up, and continue climbing up the stairs.

"Now!" Minho orders.

"Hit him with the hammer now!" He says again so close to your ear.

Your head snaps in his direction and hisses through your gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up!"

Tim catches you talking and looks over his shoulder, "What's that?"

"Can't wait to see the bedroom!" You lie and add a giggle to sound convincing.

He smirks at you before pushing the door to his bedroom, "Come on in!"

His room is less messy than his living room in which he helplessly tries to make it seem tidy by flattening the pile of his duvet.

"You can sit down here," he says, patting the space next to him on the bed.

"You're not really going to have sex with him, are you?" Minho asks as he quietly watches you from across the bed.

A deadly glare is enough to answer him and he immediately refrains from pressuring you.

"I was just checking," he adds.

It's when you're in his bedroom that you start to fear Tim, not when you know what he is capable of. But at the same time, it fuels your hate fire, it reminds you of the reason why you need to eliminate scum like him.

"You keep your alcohol in your room?" You ask.

It's obvious that he took you here for different intention. He's taking you here for the sole reason that is to ruin your life.

"Oh, yeah, the drinks," he smacks his lips together and awkwardly paces in the room.

He reaches for the portable speaker on top of his dresser and turns it on, "You can wait for the drinks while listening to music," he says.

You nod, "That sounds nice!"

He gets out of his bedroom and heads back downstairs. While he's doing what you believe is spiking your drink with substance, you think of a plan on how you're going to kill him.

First, you take the hammer out of your bag and practice your swing. You get panicked with each second passed and haven't found a way to catch him off guard.

The footsteps on the stairs signal you that he's on his way here. You decide to do the classic way by hiding in the back of the door, planning to strike him from behind.

You see his figure entering the room, carrying two glasses of drinks in his hands, "It's your lucky day because I found a bottle of—"

Without thinking, you swing your hammer hard and hit him right on the side of the head. It's a weak blow and you can see that from how he's staggering backward, still conscious.

There's no turning back now that you have done it. You come charging at him, attacking him while he's still disoriented from the first blow.

He collapses onto the bed and not giving him time to recover, you keep hitting his head with the hammer with blood splattering the bed and wall with every swing of the hammer going onto his head.

You whimper as blood gets on your face and see that Tim is lying cold on the bed, dead. However, you land another blow just to make sure you've done it and leave no room for mistakes.

"You're good, you're good," Minho says from across the room.

That's when you stop and take a step back. It feels like your soul has left your body, you suddenly feel drained and the hammer drops onto the floor.

You look at the mess you made, the bloody mess and dead body, your life that is once far from all of it. Your throat suddenly closes up and you find it hard to breathe.

After a moment, Minho gets to your side to say, "You can't have that lying around," he's eyeing the bloody hammer lying on the floor.

With your mouth gaping for air, you bend down to pick it up and shove it back into your bag.

"Cleans anything you touched," Minho instructed.

You take a handkerchief from inside your jacket and use it to wipe surfaces you probably made contact with even though you're sure there aren't any.

You leave the bedroom after wiping the handle of the door and make a turn to the stairs when you hear the front door creak open.

You peek from the top of the stairs and someone is turning the lights in the kitchen.

"Get out before he sees you," Minho whispers.

It's bad when he needs to whisper like that even though no one can hear or see him, but you. The adrenaline is still pumping and you make the most of it by bracing yourself to make a run down the stairs and to the front door that is only a few meters away.

You take a deep breath before quietly descending the stairs without making any noise. You can feel your heart beating in your ear yet you keep going as the door is only a reach away.

You successfully land on the base of the stairs when your bag accidentally hits a flower pot, sending it breaking into pieces on the floor.

"Tim?" The man calls.

He looks at you with confusion drawn on his face, "Who are you?"

It's too late for you to break into a run as he sees your face and officially makes him an eyewitness. You can't leave an eyewitness, at least, not until you've done all three human sacrifices.

Is it necessary to kill him though?

You can think and consider as much as you want but it all comes down to the one question: kill or end the world?

-

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[clonefrce99]

A Moment | Mick Schumacher x Reader

summary: what’s going on in Mick’s mind and you meet a little of his world.

author’s note: i found this written in a old notebook and decided to rewrite. there’s no beginning or end, it’s truly just a piece of moment between you too. english isn’t my first language, so please be nice!

warnings: none

Mick Schumacher was something.

He had that smile that could sweep you off your feet. His voice was soft and he loved to show how much he loves you whenever he can. He was a private person, always leaving more questions than answers to the curious ones.

He was your boyfriend. And he could easily be the love of your life.

“Are you coming today?” He asked you, his voice muffled by the shirt he was putting on.

“You want me to?” You raised your voice for him to hear you from the bathroom.

Mick doesn't often invite you to the races. In fact, he doesn’t often invite you to anything that requires any sort of public or social gathering that goes beyond your families. At first, right at the beginning of the relationship, your friends were skeptical of it, trying to open your eyes on how weird it was that your boyfriend never seemed interested in taking you anywhere people could see that he had a girlfriend.

You never gave much thought to it. You trust Mick. You had already noticed how uncomfortable he can get around too many people, or how he looked annoyed with some questions from the journalists or even fans.

“Of course” he made his way towards you, hugging your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. Ocean blue eyes meeting yours through the mirror.

You tried, but the excitement smile appeared on your face when you saw he truly meant it, “Give me five minutes”

He smiled at your reaction, spinning you to face him. His hands ran through your hair.

“Don’t worry, we have more than five minutes” he gave you forehead a quick kiss.

“Wait, what am I gonna wear?”

“Anything you want, ich liebe dich so wie du bist. You can wear pajamas and would still look beautiful”

Mick smiled and left you alone to get ready. He lied down on bed, following each one of your movements. He found amusing how you tried to do everything at once, mumbling to yourself a full conversation.

He loved these little things about you.

Sometimes, Mick could be found wondering if he was enough for you. When he mentioned this insecurity to his friends, they said he was going crazy, you’re Mick Schumacher, how could you not be enough? they said as if it was clear. As if he, being who he was, meant something.

Then, when alone, trapped inside of his mind (which he knows is always a dangerous thing), he can’t help to think that’s the problem of it all. That if he had a different last name, a different story, things would be easier.

He knows how it’s like to be harassed by the media, treated like a machine or a piece of meat on display for the vultures to eat. Mick grew up like that, having to learn how to talk, walk and act. All the eyes were on him and his family, even before his father’s accident.

Mick wondered if he was selfish by pulling you into his mess. Everyone on his life faced all the bad things a public person, or being related to one, can face: cars chasing them, people camping in front of their house trying to find something to publish about, to create rumors, get information on his private life, on his dad.

Just the thought of something occurring to you was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

“Mick?” you snapped your fingers in front of his face, sitting beside him and caressing his leg. “You’re ok?”

“Just thinking”

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Not that important” he pulled you to a tight hug.

“You think I look good?”

“I think you look like the bane of my existence and object of my desires” he dramatized, winning a genuine laugh.

“I should never have watched Bridgerton with you” you shook your head and got up, adjusting your outfit. “Now let’s go, big boy! Your team has a race to win!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he pretended to salute you.

The paddock was… energetic, to say at least. You knew that there were gonna be hundreds of people but you never actually managed to get a hold of how many. Part of you were glad Mick hadn't left your side and always kept touching you somewhere, making his presence known. When he went to give some interviews, he had you at his eyesight.

Questions about you popped up now and there, the more respectful ones didn’t ask anything personal and only said they were happy for us. Mick answered everything like he was taught to: answer without exactly answering. But anyone could see the happiness and passion on his face.

Mick introduced you to everyone and you thought how funny and sweet it was that the older ones acted more protectively, like older brothers. And when you got to the Mereces garage, Lewis stole you faster than Mick could notice. He and George were side by side, showing everything to you while your boyfriend took the opportunity to discuss something with the mechanics.

“And Toto and Susie are like his race week mom and dad, when Corinna isn’t here. Gina becomes a little sister too” George explained. You were loving every second of it. For the first time in months, you were completely part of Mick’s world.

“Mick can be very private, we didn’t actually think he would bring you” Lewis admitted, closing half of his jumpsuit and leaving it hanging on his waist.

“I was surprised too, believe me” You turned around to see Mick, unintentionally mimicking his serious frown face. You smiled. God, you truly loved him.

George and Lewis shared a known and amused glance.

A few weeks prior, they found out Mick was in a serious relationship and annoyed the younger one until he opened his mouth and told them everything. Of course George shared it with Carmen. Ocon also started to pick on him on why he hadn't told them anything. And Mick was honest in his answer: he was afraid. It was understandable, everyone has been in that position, sharing the same fears - and they knew it could be trickier to Mick due to his personal reasons.

“He wants to protect you” George smiled “That’s why he doesn’t show you off”

“That and because he’s afraid you’ll notice he’s not that big of a deal” Lewis said playfully and louder for Mick to hear.

“Yeah, I figured” you shrugged. “Not noticing he’s not a big deal, but the protection thing. He worries too much sometimes”

The other two drivers adjusted their posture when noticing their reserve driver was approaching them.

“So… Do you have any siblings or cousins who are as beautiful and nice as you for this guy?” George pointed towards Lewis, who let out a loud and surprised gasp.

“None that are single, sorry Lewis” you laughed, feeling Mick’s arm around your shoulder. You hugged his waist, pulling him closer to your side.

“I’m not a jealous person, so everything should be fine”

“Oh God, shut up” George rolled his eyes and said his goodbyes. Lewis did the same, going to get properly ready.

You could still hear the two discussing something.

“You have a great family here” you comment, looking up to your boyfriend.

“And now you are part of it, so it got a thousand times better” he kissed you.

“You know that I love you, right?”

“But?”

“But now I see how everyone falls for Lewis, like… Wow” you laughed and so did he, remembering a conversation you two had a few nights ago, about how Lewis was the most beautiful driver on the grid “I mean, I knew he was pretty but in person? He’s literally a god!”

“Do I need to be worried or something?” He was facing you now. You tried not to laugh at his attempt to pretend to be angry.

“I mean… do you look hot as he does with the jumpsuit hanging?”

“Wait for tonight and I'll show you, alright?” he whispered in your ear, hugging you closer.

“I think I’m gonna prefer you without it” you whispered back, biting his ear lobe quickly so no one could see it.

“Please, respect the elders!” Toto’s thick accent made you jump in surprise.

“And the single ones!” The social media added.

Mick Schumacher was more than something: he was everything. Your everything.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #mick schumacher x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #any driver x reader #artsy writes

[holybibly]

Object of Desire | OT8 | Preview

Pairing: otx8 x reader

Genre: sugar daddy au, dark romance, smut, vampire au,

Word Count: ....

Summary: Caught in a web of deceit and forbidden pleasures, Nabi quickly learns that some obsessions can be deadly and love can bite.

WARNING: only!18+ Blood drinking, blood kink, obsessive behavior, voice kink, daddy kink, master/pet game, pet names, explicit sexual content, explicit language, emotional manipulation, possessive behavior, seduction, BDSM, polyamory, mirror sex, marking, voyeurism, power play, and more.

Disclaimer: I do not support themes of violence, obsession, possessiveness, or emotional or psychological manipulation. This book is intended for entertainment purposes only.

A/N: Another vampire ot8 that no one asked for. Someday I will learn to stop being seduced by random ideas.

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

Part 1. Do you want to make a deal with the Devil?

Now going out of town in the middle of the night with Yeonjun seemed like a bad idea.

A very bad one, I thought.

God, what was I thinking when I agreed to do this? Yesterday, this whole venture seemed like a great way to solve my problems, but now the prospect was not so rosy.

Sometimes I feel like a complete idiot, and this is one of those times.

Outside the window the dark landscape was sweeping by at high speed; the bare trees were shrouded in an ominous gloom, and only the dim light of the tall street lamps over the road was the only source of illumination to guide us in the darkness.

It seemed that the darkness around us did not stop Yeonjun from driving. His posture was relaxed and his hand was sure as he turned the wheel in the right direction, the diamond bracelet on his thin wrist sparkling with starlight. One of the many family jewels that Yeonjun treated with special affection.

In contrast to him, I couldn't relax and kept fidgeting on the leather seat made of black Iberian leather, no less.

Every part of my body was begging me to stop and come home before it was too late.  Not so, I had imagined that we were going to an elite club. I knew that we would be there late at night, but the fact that the club was way out of town came as an unpleasant surprise.

At the moment it's an hour's drive from Seoul and more than an hour and a half to the destination on the GPS.

The whole thing was strange and made me dizzy, or was it the thick smell of Yeonjun's perfume? It was a dense, smoky scent with a hint of vanilla. Powerful enough to draw the eyes of everyone around to its source, and sexy enough to make you want to kiss the naked skin of the wearer of this tantalising scent.

It would be several days before I was able to wash off the remnants of his perfume after our meeting, so much of it had eaten its way into my skin.

I glanced at Yeonjun; a stray yellowish-white light from the lantern momentarily illuminated his face, and a shadow of long velvet eyelashes fell on his pale cheeks. His black raven hair was streaked with flashes of platinum and gold. He looked otherworldly - I would even say demonic.

I felt a palpable shiver run through my body, as if someone had just dipped my heart into a bucket of icy water.

"Jun." My voice was terribly uncertain. "I don't think I can do this." I said as my fingers pulled down the hem of a short dress. The expensive material looked luxurious in a perfect shade of white and was decorated with a sprinkling of crystals. Yeonjun insisted that I wear it tonight and said that I would be grateful for it as soon as we got to the club. I don't think I'd ever choose something like that for myself, and not just because of its crazy cost; Jun's fashion preferences were so different from mine. He was a fan of overt sexuality and bold lines; I, on the other hand, preferred neutrals and comfort. "I have changed my mind; this proposal does not suit me at all. Maybe we can go back..."

Yeonjun smiled softly as he turned to me, but in the darkness of the drawing room the smile was more ominous than reassuring, his lips the most breathtaking shade of red I had ever seen.

Warning bells began to ring in my head. There are times when you can sense danger even before you are faced with it.

"Nabi, my dear, there is nothing for you to be worried about. We have already discussed this. Remember?" His hand was cold as he laid it on my knee. "I will take care of everything. You're my guest tonight, which means you're under my protection." The long fingers shrank a little, a kind of confirmation of his words. His fingernails were painted glossy black, and his fingers were adorned with several silver rings.

I would like to believe that nothing is going to happen to me, but my insides are tied up in a tight knot of fear.

Miss Kim Seoyun's words echoed in my head like thunder: "Humble yourself and surrender to destiny; you are where you are supposed to be.

When did I start believing all this? This is no time to panic, Nabi.

Everything will be fine.

To be honest, Yeonjun was never my first choice when I needed help, and I always tried to keep a certain distance from him for a number of reasons. There was something so predatory about him, almost animalistic, that lit up the red lights of danger, but I was desperate; student loans, rent, insurance and food were starting to pile up. I was in desperate need of money, and preferably a lot of it, fast.

The threat of being left out on the streets and being thrown out of university has never been as real as it is now.

The only thing that gave me the slightest bit of confidence was Jimin's assurance that I could trust Yeonjun completely and how carefree he was.

Damn, Jun looked like we were going on a spontaneous romantic trip instead of a closed elite club outside the city in the middle of the night.

I asked myself again, "Why did I agree to this?" Oh yes, money. A lot of money.

A few days ago, Yeonjun contacted me and offered to help me with my money problem. Of course, Park Jimin couldn't keep his big mouth shut and told him about my problems. He told me that one of his friends at the private club had a good deal for me. I could make a lot of money out of it.

The income was enough to pay off all my debts and the number of zeros on offer was enough to turn my head.

It was an unequivocal and desperate "YES" and at that moment I did not think at all about the consequences or the characteristics of this proposal.

Jun also promised me a lot of fun but after I signed the NDA and read the multi-page contract with its veiled meaning and rather vague wording of some specific points, doubts blossomed in my chest, and I began to understand what kind of fun was being discussed.

Looks like I made a deal with the Devil.

The dress was delivered on the eve of our trip, a few hours before Yeonjun's chic Ferrari pulled up outside my dorm room. The all-white gown, richly embroidered with blue topaz and opal, was incredible. The plunging neckline of the corsage barely covered the lace bralet of the same colour as the dress.

I have never seen my breasts look so full and so soft. I would even call it seductive. Everything I moved had to be clean and graceful; if I moved too sharply, the soft pink halos of my nipples would start to show. This was beyond the limits of my modesty. At one point, I could even feel Yeonjun's searing gaze resting on my cleavage. It was a carnal look with a shadow of hidden lust in the depths of the dark, shining pupils. It was the first time in the several years of our dubiously friendly communication that he had shown such a desire for me.

The dress and underwear came with four-inch heels. Of course, if my life had been in danger and I had tried to escape, there would have been no chance of success. Incidentally, I'm a terrible runner; I bet I couldn't have run more than ten meters before I collapsed with breathlessness. I should have gone to the gym when Jimin offered it to me.

Oh my God, Nabi, what the hell have you gotten yourself into?

Jun's silky voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

"You have such a tense look on your face, my darling." He purred. "We'll be there soon, Nabi. Try to relax; you're going to love "Crescent", I'm sure."

Why did it have such a sinister ring to it? "Crescent" - the name was sweet enough, I would say poetic, but the way Yeonjun rolled the word over his tongue as if he could feel its taste - thick and viscous - made the name something forbidden and sinful. Well, the idea of the cult was not so absurd to me. And that stupid prophecy never left my mind.

"You're where you should be..."

In the reflection of the small mirror in the car, I met my gaze. My pupils were dilated like those of a hunted prey. And though I tried to calm down, I could feel the cold, predatory touch of Youngjoon's hand all too well. Baby, it looks like you're going to get caught.

I ask myself again. Why did I find myself in this situation?

Dressed in the most luxurious designer clothes, like a real doll. Ready to become an exclusive blood donor for a very wealthy private community whose clients needed this kind of service, accompanied by one of Seoul's wealthiest heirs.

Now I can say: "Hey, Nabi, you really screwed up."

To be continued…

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez yandere #ateez x reader #kpop smut #ateez fanfic #yandere ateez #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #yeosang x reader #san x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung x reader #jongho x reader #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #ateez ot8 #ateez imagines

[anatomical-anomaly]

When you live life as a woman, society teaches you that your worth stems from how attractive you are to others.

If you’re sapphic - if your identity is based around being a woman who is primarily attracted to other women - it makes sense for your ideal world to be one without men. You might not consider men to be an important or necessary part of your life because, at the end of the day, your community and relationships are centered around women.

Being transmasc and suddenly losing the community that you had as a woman can be painful. Suddenly, because you are now viewed as a man, you are no longer seen as desirable, and thus lose your worth in the eyes of those people. Suddenly, because you are a man, you are viewed as someone dangerous, someone who cannot be trusted.

People of all kinds back off from you: straight men, because you are no longer a potential object of attraction; straight women, because they think there is a risk of you being attracted to them and so you are viewed as a potential perpetrator; lesbians, for both reasons.

Amatonormativity and heteronormativity play a role in this because it is both assumed that everyone desires a relationship, and that everyone is straight. Being aromantic and asexual, it’s frustrating to be placed into a role that doesn’t even apply to you. When you’re even remotely friendly to someone of the opposite gender, your actions are misinterpreted to be romantic by people who view you through the lens of being cis and allo. Others see you as a creep when you don’t even think of them or their bodies in the way that they think you do.

People who know nothing about you will ignore your sexuality and lived experiences to focus on the fact that in this moment, you are a man.

If you’re someone who thinks, “all men are shit except for my trans friends/gay friends/my current partner,” you still have some work to do. Because there are men you will come across who are trans, and you’ll have no idea. There are people who will look like men but are actually transfem or nonbinary or masculine women, and you’ll have no idea.

It’s unfair to determine whether you will treat someone with respect or not based on their gender alone. You cannot know someone’s personality or experiences just by looking at them. It’s unfair to treat someone as if they’re some sort of insentient creature who can only ever act a certain way, just because they’re a different gender than you.

#trans #transmasc #transandrophobia #amatonormativity

[haitanisbug]

Yandere Bonten

Includes: Mikey, Sanzu, Ran, Rindou, Kokonoi, Kakucho

CW: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ ONLY. Yandere themes implied kidnapping, torture etc etc.

MIKEY

It's taken a long time for you to warm up to Mikey, and he’s aware. A part of him almost doesn't want you to fall in love with him because he knows he's undeserving of it. He left all of his old friends, he wasn't able to protect his sister and his older brother, so how in the world is he supposed to protect you? The guilt of knowing he doesn't deserve you or his love rips at him every day but that doesnt stop him from keeping you safe and secure with him at all times.

You have the least leniency out of any of the other darlings. You can go outside, you get to travel with Mikey, you get to see other people, but the catch is that you don't have a moment to yourself. Ever. You're always in Mikeys eyesight. He sits you on his lap during Bonten meetings, he takes you with him on dangerous jobs but has got you secure in his car. He’s so paranoid about you leaving him or someone taking you away from him that he doesn't even trust you with any of the other Bonten members or any bodyguards.  You're on a metaphorical leash at all times and Mikey has no problems with keeping that leash short. This angered you so much at first. Never having a moment to yourself really messed with your sense of self. You hated Mikey for it, in the way he almost treated you as if you were an object. All of his actions towards you are calculated too. He forces you to wear a necklace with a tracking device. You can't take it off, and you know it’s just a glorified collar.

You can't stand the way he flaunts you to other people. In every meeting he ever has, the other person stares at you while you sit prettily on Mikey’s lap. It's been hours of you sitting there, Mikey conducting business and it's boring. It has you squirming to at least walk a bit, but Mikey is paranoid about you even walking around his office when someone else is in the room.

His grip on your hips tighten and he’ll whisper into your ear “Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?” He reveres you more than anything, and once that becomes obvious, how he despises making you upset, how he treats you like a queen when around the other Bonten executives….. You start to fall for him.

SANZU

Does not see his darling as anything but an object that he can use for his own desire. He takes pleasure in making you cry, in doing things to your body that harms you in any way. He's a sadist. Loves pain and loves inflicting it. In his mind that's how everyone is. Where's the joy in life if you don't get to experience the sensations of pain? This is what makes him the most dangerous yandere. Because he's delusional about it all. He thinks you want to be with him because you enjoy this sort of pain. He thinks you love him because of it. Any action that he draws out of you, screaming, crying, shivering, all of it is done because you enjoy it. At least that's what goes through Sanzu’s head.

He's strict too but he changes the rules every day. Some days he demands you greet him at the door with a kiss, but the next day when you walk up to him to place a kiss on his lips he’ll get angry and punish you for not following his rules. “I don't want you to greet me with a kiss, I want you kneeling at the door in front of my feet by the time I walk in. I told you that yesterday that's how I want to be greeted, '' he says. He didn't tell you that. He never tells you when he changes the rules and he does that on purpose so he can have an excuse to punish you.

He gets a thrill out of seeing the confusion in your eyes and how you jump every time he walks into the room. You never know when he’ll punish you because you never know if you're doing something wrong. You're terrified constantly, and Sanzu loves that power. It riles him up knowing he has your life, your emotions, every reaction from you in the palm of his hand.

He walks into his penthouse with bags full of gifts that he went out and bought earlier that day. He was in a good mood, and the thought of spoiling his darling in some designer clothing excited him. He couldn't wait to get back and dress you all up so pretty, then rip it all off of you and fuck you into tomorrow. When he walks into his bedroom the first thing he notices is the chain that usually keeps you tied to his bed post has been broken. You're on the floor in the corner of the room shaking, eyes trained on the handle of the door he just swung open. Sanzu’s eyes drift to where yours are looking in fear and he notices scratch marks on the wood. It all clicks in his brain. You were trying to fucking escape. Despite his initial anger, Sanzu laughs. You jump at the sound, trying to curl further into yourself.

“See now darling, I was trying to be nice to you today.” He places the gift bags down and walks towards you. You let out a sob knowing what's about to come. “Guess this is what I get for  being a nice guy, huh? Torture is the only gift your getting today.”

RAN

If Sanzu is the worst yandere to have, then Ran comes in at a close second. Ran is sadistic but only if you break his rules. He’s extremely strict and has a set of rules that he wants you to abide by and must learn them. He has no qualms with doling out cruel punishments if you don't follow what he says. He knows you don't love him back. He's a smart guy, he doesn't miss the anger that's pooling in your eyes when he's burning you for speaking out at dinner. He doesn't miss the curses you direct at him under your breath when he has you over his knee, spanking you for not cleaning up the penthouse properly in his absence.

He's aware. And it does make him sad at times. If you only listened. If you didn't speak out so much he wouldn't have to hurt you. If you only got rid of your selfish tendencies and chose to love him, then he wouldn't have to punish you so much. But the game is fun too. Whittling you into his perfect little housewife is something he’s come to love. He almost welcomes the brattiness because that means he gets to correct you. He’ll take your feisty nature and transform it into one of reverence for him and him alone. In no time you'll be at his feet thanking him for the life and love that he's given you. Yea he doesn't like your selfish nature but boy is he taking great enjoyment in ripping that way from you.

You’ve disobeyed him again. Doing what? Doesn't matter. There's a long list of rules that you break often to get on Ran’s nerves. He was planning on having a sweet night-in with you. Maybe watch some movies and, if you stayed perfectly still warming his cock through the whole movie, he might have even let you have a slice of the cake he bought earlier that day. But you had to fuck up, and Ran wont let that go. He’s had you over his knee for the past hour, his baton in hand. Every spank on your bare ass needs to be followed up with you counting the number and a  ‘thank you’. But your cheeks are ruined at this point, and you’re trying to slide up the bed to get out of his reach. Another spank comes down on your ass and you let out a shriek. This one definitely broke skin.

“Twenty.. Twenty-five, thank you.” You're sobbing into the mattress, broken pleads falling from your lips. Ran just smiles and taps the reddest area of your skin with his finger. You jolt and reach back to push his hand off, but he grabs your wrist and secures it on your back giving it a hard squeeze.

 “I know it hurts, honey, but this is what happens when you don’t do what I say.”

RINDOU

Ran is cruel like his brother but unlike Ran, Rindou doesn’t take pleasure in the punishments he gives you. His are harder than Ran’s though. The purpose is to teach you, to warn you and to rehabilitate you. He leaves permanent marks and they leave you sobbing on the floor for hours. Since his punishments are to rehabilitate you, they’re not for fun like Ran’s and he doesn't draw them out. They’re precise, calculated, and deserved depending on the severity of your screw up. His goal is to make you into the perfect darling and do it as fast as he can. He doesn’t like the game, and sees no point in it. He wants your soft and doting touch on him now. He wants his feelings of love and your lips on his shoulder blades now.

So he’ll get the punishment done and over with, then scoop you up in his arms and console you. Telling you that “it will be worse next time but if you learn to obey me then I won't have to hurt you at all.” He’ll run a bath and drop you in, kissing your forehead as he treats the wound he just inflicted on you. It's tiring. You haven't felt another human's touch in so long, and you certainly havent been allowed to speak to anyone either. So when you're broken, exhausted from crying after these punishments, a part of you welcomes Rindou’s touch. You lean into his kisses and accept them knowing that it's all the touch you will ever get. Your future is wrapped up with Rindou and only Rindou.

He knows you’re starting to rely on him for physical comfort. That’s something he can work with. If you start seeking his physical touch then you'll start seeking him for mental comfort soon too. And emotional comfort won't be too far off. Rindou just has to say the right things to get you to fall in love with him now.

“Don’t you know how much this hurts me?” he says softly as he’s washing your body down in the tub. His touches are light and so very careful around your injuries. You look up into his eyes, and it's true. Some sort of pained expression is deep in his eyes. You think he's trying to mess with you but, if he didn't truly care then why would his touches be so gentle? Why would he sound so hurt?

 “ ‘m sorry Rin.” you whisper, arms going around to tug his neck closer to yours. You bury your head into his shoulder, a sigh falling from your lips along with another apology. Rindou just smirks as a hand comes up to cup your head. Yea, he thinks. All it’ll take is a little encouragement, and you'll be his sweet housewife in no time.

KOKONOI

He absolutely adores his darling. Spoils her to the max. He's aware that she doesnt love him back. Hes not stupid. But that's where the spoiling comes in. If he can make his darling understand that her life was shit before him, her life was nothing, and Koko has improved it by getting her whatever she wants...then maybe he can get her to fall in love with him.

 He's not as strict as Ran but he definitely has a few rules that need to be followed. He even enjoys taking you out on shopping trips.Theres a bunch of rules and conditions that go along with trips like this (trackers being placed on you, your hand in his at all times, eyes on his or at your feet no matter what, you can never answer questions directed at your or talk to anyone when out and about) but it could be worse. At least you get to see the outside world. And the rules that Koko has are always particular. You had a few mess ups at the beginning but after a while the routine and following them became pretty easy.

Koko likes picking out what you wear every day, and if you want to change at any time you have to ask him permission first. Asking permission to eat certain foods, or do certain hobbies throughout the day also have to be done. But at least he lets you do these things. He lets you partake in hobbies and occupy your mind while he's gone, and once you get used to asking permission  all of it comes quite naturally. You become his sweet demure, almost bimbo wife. Someone who can't even think or make decisions without having to ask Koko first and that's how Koko breaks you down.

After a while you start to agree that living with Koko isn't bad. He's a terrible tease, he gets rough and handsy at times, and he raises his voice once in a while, but he provides everything for you. You’ve never been so physically spoiled in your whole life. Closets full of clothing and new toys and shiny jewelry. And he provides for you mentally by making all the hard decisions in life for you.

Koko is sitting on the couch of your shared bedroom. Smoking a cigarette and going over budget accounts when you strut out of the closet catching his attention. You've got on a flimsy little number of a lingerie set; baby pink with lace and bows and straps spaced all around it. You know it’s Koko’s favorite color on you, not because he's told but because it's the only color lingerie he ever buys for you. His eyes are trained on you as you make your way over to him, plopping yourself on his lap and slinging an arm around his neck. Koko blows a puff of smoke to the side before leveling you with a lidded gaze.

 “Damn doll” He lets out a low whistle bringing a hand to the back of your neck and tugging you towards his face until your lips almost touch. “I'm the only one who gets to see you like this, understand?” He doesn't wait for your response before he's smashing his lips onto yours.

KAKUCHO

Kakucho is in love with his darling. Truly thinks you were made for each other and that the  world brought you together. So he doesn't understand why you shy away from his touch at night, or flinch when he walks into the penthouse after a long day of work. He doesn't force himself on you, yea maybe he did kidnap you from your old life...but you weren't receiving the proper type of love. No other man has treated you the way that you need...that you deserve. Kakucho adores you. He showers you with affection. He gives you small acts of love and doesn't force himself on you. So that must mean you love him back right? He totally thinks you do in his mind. I mean he's heard the horror stories that Ran told him about Ran’s own darling. You've never done anything like that to Kakucho. You don't act out on purpose, so that must mean you do love him!

He's the most lenient of all the yanderes, he lets you have free reign of the mansion. He lets you have access to TV and internet (although he's tracking you when they are in use. Can't have you messaging other men right?) The only thing you basically can't do is go outside without his permission. He takes you on dinner dates, he allows you to order things to be delivered to the mansion. Overall he's understanding and wants your love so he allows you to do most things. But that doesn't mean he isnt filled with worry about you. He's got cameras set up around the penthouse at all times. He monitors you from his phone. Of course you don't know about the cameras but what you don't know can't hurt right? Ignorance is bliss afterall.

Kakucho has got you wrapped up in his arms, laying back in bed after a long day of work. You aren't saying anything, in fact you're stiff as a board and Kakucho is getting frustrated. You're lovers, so why won't you act like it? You've barely said a word to him since he got home, and you avert your eyes every time he tries to meet your gaze. He thinks it might have been the blood on his fists that scared you tonight, but then again he comes back with blood on him most nights so why are you acting cold? Kakucho has had enough so if you won't be the sweet lover he expects, then he’ll have to draw it out of you.

“Tell me how much you love me.” You jump at the sudden sound of his voice, but you still don't say anything. “I said.” Kakucho repeats “Tell me. How. much. you. love me.”

“Kaku…. I-” you stop for a second.

Kakucho isn’t known to get angry with you, but you still want to choose your words wisely. You don't know if he’ll ever flip. If his disposition will turn sour at a moment's notice with you. You've seen the way he comes home. You know what he does for a living and you never want to be on the receiving end of that violence.

So you swallow the bile that rises to your throat, and with a tongue that seems heavy with salt you say “I’m madly in love with you. You’re all I ever think about, Kaku.”

He's too pleased with your answer, humming as he kisses the top of your head to notice the shake of your fingers and the sole tear that slips down your cheek.

#mikey x reader #manjiro x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #rindo x reader #sanzu x reader #kokonoi x reader #kakucho x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tr x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fic #tokyo revengers drabbles #hello #posting this again #tj.fics

[madneedshelp]

Thrill of the Chase - Billy Hargrove x FReader

Summary: You turn down Billy for a date, but that only makes him want you more. After all, in a school where girls throw themselves at him right and left, what’s more intriguing than someone who wants nothing to do with him? However, in the end he learns the valuable lesson that women are people and not sex objects and everyone has value. Yay, character development!

Warnings: language, mentions of sex

Part Two

“I’m sorry, did you say no?”

You huffed out a sigh as you slammed your locker door. Spinning on your heel to face him, you plastered on a falsely sweet smile. 

“That’s right, Hargrove, I said no. Now, I’m going to English and you’re going to leave me alone and go wherever the hell you go for first period.” 

As you walked away, you could practically feel the annoyance radiating off of Billy. You weren’t sure why Billy Hargrove just asked out, but you wanted nothing to do with him. Enough of the girls around school talked about how he treated them. His usual M.O. seemed to consist of a date, a hookup, and then avoidance. You figured you could beat him to the avoidance part and skip the whole mess. Hot isn’t always worth it. 

What you didn’t know, however, was that the annoyance Billy felt was mixed with desire. He wasn’t used to girls turning him down. From the moment he pulled up to Hawkins High School, he’d been the main object of the female gaze. As he was beginning to realize, you were a bit different. It was a sort of mystery to him, and to be honest, he kind of liked it. 

The next day, you found Billy waiting at your car after school. That earned him an eyeroll as you shoved you backpack into the passenger seat. 

You leaned against the side of the car with your arms folded. “Are you going to keep standing there, or are you going to let me leave? Can’t say I want to be at this place any longer than I have to.”

Billy let out a low chuckle as he took a step back from the car and shot you a smug smile. “Go out with me, sweetheart. I promise it’ll be a good time.”

“What’s my last name?”

The response came out of nowhere. Last name? What the fuck did that have to do with anything? Billy was about to spit it out and win him a date, but then he realized no name was coming to mind. His silence was his answer. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. See, Hargrove, why would you want to go out with me? You don’t even know me. Hell, you don’t even really know my name. All I’m saying is most people don’t go out with people they don’t know unless they want something, and I’m not interested. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.” You paced around to the driver’s side and climbed inside. 

Even if you didn’t want to go out with him, you still felt a little hurt that the boy didn’t even know your name. It was a small town. The student body of Hawkins High wasn’t large by any means. Not even a guess from the man in question, not a single attempt. 

—------------------

You felt a mix of emotions when you were greeted by your admirer the next morning. Mild annoyance, tiredness, but maybe you were just the slightest bit entertained. 

“Good morning, Y/N L/N.” Billy smirked, putting heavy emphasis on your last name. 

His cocky smile turned tight when you met him with mocking applause. “Good job for doing your homework. Also, can I go ahead and ask if this is going to be a thing? You showing up around every corner?” 

“What can I say, sweetheart? I’m charmingly stubborn.” 

You huffed a skeptical laugh. “I’m not sure I would qualify this as charming. And knock it off with the ‘sweetheart’ bullshit. Please and thanks.”

He gave you a disappointed look that was so obviously fake, but you had no doubt that it hadn’t convinced his past conquests. “Come on, don’t I get any points for being a gentleman and greeting you with your full name? Maybe I do know you, Y/N.”

“Billy, you know the absolute bare minimum about me, and I’m sure you just asked Tommy or Carol about my name 10 minutes ago. I appreciate the effort, but I really should go.” 

Before he could say anything else, you breezed past him and headed for your best friend, Beth, where she stood at her car. You knew she saw the whole thing just based on the way she was looking at you. 

“Pick your jaw up off the floor, Bethany, English class awaits us.” You raised a disapproving eyebrow at her. 

“Listen, you can’t blame me for being a little shocked. Billy fucking Hargrove has hit on you like three times now. Three! And you’ve resisted every single time!” Beth elbowed you lightly. 

You shook your head with a sigh. “I just don’t get why everyone drops their panties as soon as he so much as glances their way. He’s kind of an ass.”

“Oh, but he’s a hot piece of ass, my friend. Most of us aren’t too concerned about what’s on the inside.” She giggled. 

“Hey now, you’re no better than he is!” You laughed at her. “You can’t tell me he sleeps with half the female population here because they’re kind-hearted souls with absolutely riveting personalities.”

“You’re probably right about both, but you’re better than me anyways. If he showed up at my locker or my car like he did you, I’d be another notch in that bedpost.” 

You and Beth dissolved into chuckles as you made your way into class. However, the two of you were completely unaware of the fact that Tommy H. had been in the hall right outside and heard the entire conversation go down. 

Tommy knew Billy had been thirsting for you for a little bit now. But why wouldn’t he? Yeah, Tommy had Carol (most of the time), but anyone with eyes could admit you were hot. He didn’t even stop to think about whether he should tell Billy about this. The information was too good to keep to himself. He headed straight down the hall for the science classroom to catch his friend before he went in.

“Hey, man, you’ll never guess who was talking about you.” Tommy wore a wicked grin. “Y/N!”

Billy froze in his tracks. He didn’t particularly want to talk to Tommy right then, but that changed his mind. “What did you hear?”

“Okay so get this shit, she’s whining to that girl she’s always with, Becky or whatever, about how you just want to fuck her and that’s it. Like no shit? What does she expect, a proposal? What a fucking bitch.” Tommy laughed, eyeing Billy as he waited for him to join in.

Billy didn’t start laughing though. Usually he would, but something didn’t sit right with him. He definitely didn’t like Tommy calling you a bitch, but it was more than that. It was more than he had time to dwell on right then. 

“Whatever, man, I’ll see you at lunch.” Billy mumbled and pushed past Tommy and into the classroom. 

Billy’s mind stayed on you for the rest of the school day, despite his best efforts at distraction. And it wasn’t the usual focus he had on girls. He felt bothered by his interaction with you this morning and his conversation with Tommy before class. 

Of course you wouldn’t think he was actually interested. Maybe he hadn’t been at first, at least not for the right reasons. He was now, though. He wanted to know you. You were different in the aspect that you didn’t just do whatever you thought would make you seem appealing. You were one of the few people that didn’t seem to be a complete kiss-ass at this school. 

He also decided that he didn’t want you to think he was a piece of shit. Based on what he heard from Tommy, he was pretty sure your opinion of him wasn’t stellar. Maybe his dad, and Max, and his teachers, and whoever else thought he wasn’t worth anyone’s time, but he didn’t want you to be on that list. 

He figured he might have one last shot at this, so he headed for your car one more time after school.

—------------------

You were kind of expecting Billy to be waiting for you at the end of school. It was becoming a sort of odd tradition in your life, and you mentally prepared yourself for the same conversation to happen yet again.

“How did I know you’d be here?” You called as you approached the car.

He raised his shoulders slightly in a lazy shrug. “Looks like you’re pretty clever.”

“Among other things.” You smirked.

“Yeah? Well I’d like to know about those.” He stood up from his slouch and moved away from your passenger door. 

You opened it and slung your backpack inside before turning to face him again. “Call me crazy, but I think we’ve been over this. A few times, actually.”

He shook his head, expression growing more serious. “I know we have, but I just want to be clear, sweetheart. I want to actually get to know you, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to do that if you won’t even talk to me.”

“Bold of you to assume I want to get to know you, sweetheart.” You raised an eyebrow, but you were surprised to feel your cheeks heating. You couldn’t fall for this shit. Sure, he seemed genuine, but you didn’t know him enough to tell. Oh.

You didn’t really know him, did you? You were going based off of word-of-mouth from your peers, not any interactions you’d really had with him. As you were realizing that maybe you weren’t in such a good position to judge him, a tinge of regret from your last snarky comment seeped in.

He chuckled darkly at your comment anyways. It was the kind of laugh that made you wonder if people had made him feel kind of shitty pretty often. 

“Listen, maybe you don’t, and if that’s true I’ll leave you alone. All I’m saying is I kinda like you, and I would like to take you out on a date. So we can talk. That’s it.” 

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to that. Just because you felt bad about basing his entire personality on rumors didn’t mean you should completely disregard them. He did sleep around. Although you’d never heard of him…forcing himself on anyone, so it wasn’t necessarily that going on a date would be dangerous. 

You did note that his gaze was different from the very first time he approached you. The first time he was looking at you like you were some sort of prize that he wanted to win. Now the hungry gleam was gone from his eyes. 

The silence lasted a moment too long, and Billy took that as his answer. He nodded like he was confirming he understood something and started to get in the car.

God, you were stupid. You were about to do something probably very dumb. Your inner train of thought was a mess of conflicting voices, but you decided to just pick one and go for it. 

“Six!” You shouted.

He shot you a confused glance. “What?”

“Pick me up at 6 tomorrow night. One date, Hargrove, that’s all I’m guaranteeing. And you better not try anything.” You put on your best nonchalant voice as you tried to regain your composure for that brief outburst. 

A faint grin formed on his features. “Wouldn’t dream of it. See you at 6…sweetheart.”

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x you #billy stranger things #billy hargove x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #billy hargrove

[crystallizedday]

Okie dokie!

So what initially started out as a joke character I made in relation to Pastra’s midwife voice kind of spiraled into a full blown AU, & I think these designs & concepts are too cool to keep away from the public eye.

Soooooo

Say hello to the DOAI Trickster AU!

Here’s the rundown:

Instead of using hallucinations & intimidation to claim their victims, Veldiguns instead have shapeshifted themselves to become more approachable to lure their intrigued victims to their demise.

Clyde & Winfrey are the most notorious of the Veldiguns, primarily targeting young adults using charm & flattery, often bringing their victims into the woods as to not get caught.

While one will most often pursue a target on their own, the other tends to linger nearby & keep an eye on their partner to keep them out of any potential danger.

The two deeply care about each other, their relationship being blatantly romantic, sometimes to a cheesy degree. Even so, these two should NOT be underminded strength-wise as they are just as strong & sometimes JUST as brutal as their canon counterparts. Human life means nothing to them, but they highly appreciate their customs & culture to the point where they even participate in some of those customs just for fun.

Klaus & Jack are QUITE different as they target young children, especially in any kind of birthday scenario. One common method Klaus uses to take down a target is by offering the chosen child a large “present”, luring them out of public view before allowing Jack to spring out of the box & chomp down on the victim.

Klaus treats Jack more like a tool rather than a partner, even taking apart Jack in his free time just because he finds the activity satisfying. He will rip Jack apart & fix him up again & again, mangling him & ruining his outer shell every time Klaus messes with him. Jack rarely ever objects, not wanting to anger the person that is able to feed him efficiently.

& finally…

Simon & the Flock are not necessarily two separate entities, at least not anymore. At some point, the two’s minds intertwined & consider themselves as one whole being. They prefer to be called the Reaper.

The Reaper, who cherishes human life, chooses to target much older humans who are about to die, wanting to give these people a comfortable death. The Reaper will often talk to the humans they take, wanting the people they target to accept their inevitable fate while they still can.

Of course, while they prefer to target the dying elderly, the Reaper will sometimes do the same for any human in other age ranges if that particular human does not have much time to live. Additionally, family pets are also taken by the Reaper, especially cherished pets that were loved & well taken care of. Of course, these two occurrences are extremely rare.

… & of course.

There’s Dr. Lankmann.

I don’t have much for him at the moment, but as of now, he is a monster hunter who is on a mission to eradicate EVERY SINGLE Veldigun he can, even the Reaper.

Everyone around him thinks he’s a mad man for believing these creatures even exist, but he doesn’t care. He’s GOING to hunt these FREAKS down & become the hero he so desperately desires to be.

No matter the cost.

… but I’m too lazy to design him at the moment, so uh… that’s all you get JWIWKEKEOEKW

Anyway, that’s all I got for now! Hope y’all enjoy this kooky AU of mine!

#day’s art #day’s late night rambles #technically #doai #dreams of an insomniac #doai clyde #Clyde #doai winfrey #Winfrey #doai Klaus #Klaus #doai jack #Jack #doai simon #Simon #doai flock #doai the flock #the flock #flock #dr lankmann #lankmann #Pastra #pastraspec #pastra clyde #Pastra winfrey #doai AU #dreams of an insomniac AU #Trickster AU

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

My theory is that Jm and Jk are making this content together because they are the most succeesful members.

Hybe will never acknowledge Jm’s popularity in any other way, but are going to make him do this content with Jk to make money off of him

That’s it, that’s why is the 2 of them, not V or Rm because jikook got both no 1 on bb etc

Wdym it wasn't Jungkook and Taehyung the it couple, the most successful members whose debut everyone was waiting for and counting on to make history?????

Okay, now that I'm done with the sarcasm...

Aside from the fact that it was something Jimin wanted to do, why did the company suddenly think of it and agreed to it now. (Unless we eventually find out other details about why and how, but I don't know if I'm even going to be here when that happens, so).

Jungkook and Jimin is a pairing that has always worked in many ways, like with the couple of dance units they've had in BTS stages. Or the couple of songs they've sung together, etc.

Apart from that, yes they are the most popular (read popular as in people OUTSIDE OF THE FANDOM have seen them/interacted with their content or music at some point/etc), so all in all I agree that their individual popularity could be a reason.

That's also related to the reach the content has. I've never been one of those people that cry about jikook not being loved; I never cared about that for several reasons that are not relevant right now. One of the reasons that's relevant tho, is that taekook might get the most likes or retweets on their content... but nobody causes conversation the way Jimin does. Whether it's good or bad, Jungkook or Taehyung each on their own, or together, they don't cause conversation. I'm not gloating or anything about Jimin getting hate because I hate it, and I hate when people are like "oh jimin they're hating on you you'll always be famous", but it's a fact that whenever Jimin is involved in something, people will talk about it. I mean, there's a reason his name can't trend in twitter anymore because of the volume of tweets in which he's mentioned every day.

Another thing, probably unpopular, many probably won't get it, and I think that people just don't realize it's happening: Jimin makes Jungkook look good. He makes Jungkook looked loved and worthy of being loved.

Not too long ago I rewatched the hunger games and in the first movie something happens with Katniss and Peeta, I think it was him saying he was in love with her or something. And Haymitch says it was good that Peeta had said that because he'd made Katniss looked desirable. Now, she was perceived as the object of affection of someone.

It's something I've talked about before, how the narrative about Jungkook and the way people perceived him changed when his ships got bigger attention.

This happens to a large scale with all of BTS members, btw. We're just talking specifically about two right now, but the "X member loves Y member, how could you hate them?!" is probably the biggest example of that.

So, there's that too. Jimin's way of treating Jungkook has A LOT of weight on what people think of Jungkook. It might even be a reason of why some pjms can't even stick to one side and are more or less constantly changing their feelings about him.

That's also why I think that if it was solely and exclusively the company calling Jimin up to do this, it was tailored to happen around Jungkook's debut and not before. Because it is good for Jungkook's image.

Finally, Jimin being Jimin. I think many people do a big disservice to Jimin when they talk about why and don't realize how amazing Jimin's personality is. Jikookers especially overlook how awesome, kind, sweet and great he is. They collectively ignore how every single person who's ever met Jimin has made a point to talk about how sweet and kind he is. To most jikookers It's all about how he is with Jungkook when a large part of that is not even about Jungkook, but just how Jimin was raised and how he treats everyone he loves.

Jungkook gets to be a lovely maknae bla bla bla. To jikookers, Jimin's selflessness and beautiful soul only gets talked about in relation to Jungkook.

So another factor of the whole thing is that Jimin's got a GREAT personality. Jin, Hoseok, Jimin, they've always been the one lighting up the mood and making people laugh and taking care of everyone. They're the life of the party, literally. And the company must realize this, too. They're not stupid. They know what works for entertainment and what doesn't. Didn't Jungkook say in that preview that as soon as Jimin arrived it was chaos? Jimin is genuinely so much fun.

It works because Jimin is who he is. It's not even about Taehyung and Jungkook, but it wouldn't work with Yoongi and Jungkook, either. It would be boring simply because they're not Jimin. You can watch any live with Jimin + other member and it's almost always interesting and funny because Jimin makes up for a lot of the mood between two people.

[fortunatetragedy]

for the ask game!!!

🛰 Satellite - Do you have a character who is very dependent on another character? Is it healthy or unhealthy?

☀️ Sun - Who is your most cheerful and positive character? Why are they like that?

Sav!! Hello lovely!

From the Space Ask Game!

🛰: This won't shock anyone LOL.

Royston cannot function without Sullivan. The way his brain works, he became obsessed with him rather than harmlessly infatuated. They had to do serious work so Royston sees Sullivan as a human being rather than an object, and Royston believes Sullivan (with a decent amount of supporting evidence) to be the only decent man to ever see him, let alone understand him. But when Sullivan isn't around, Royston goes into a dopamine slump and annoys the shit out of everyone around him.

Thank you, Book 1 Events, for at least helping him develop empathy. For Sullivan. Only Sullivan.

By Book 2, Sullivan has become Royston's Morality Chain. The only reason making more morally "gray" decisions is even a little important to Royston is because it's important to Sullivan. That isn't even a little healthy, but since The Point I'm trying to make with these two is that relationships take work and vilifying someone because of something they have no control over (how they're wired) is bullshit [not the same as letting them off the hook/not holding them accountable!] I hope it comes off as more They Shouldn't Work But For Each Other They Do and not... all the other ways it can come off LOL.

Sullivan is rehabilitative for Royston, but their relationship is never going to be considered "healthy" for anyone but the two of them. There is no one else either one of them could have ended up with who would understand them and treat them with the respect and patience they both need in order to be in a long-term relationship.

I'm normal about them. Yeah.

☀️: I want to say Sullivan but we all know that's not true.

It's Son of Ether child prodigy Khalid.

This guy (kid, at the current moment in time) does not let ANYTHING I do to him kill his love of adventure, his curiosity, his desire to share things with other people, or his belief that he has control over his future. He gets the absolute shit kicked out of him, eats so much Aggravated damage that he shouldn't have a corporeal form anymore, and eventually has to hide from the Technocracy (Khalid belongs to the Traditions, which the Technocratic Union is trying to wipe out) while he's conducting a completely unethical reproductive experiment using his own body as a laboratory.

He is such a menace in a future timeline that his Tradition is keeping him, as a child, imprisoned in his dorm room so they can keep control over what he learns when.

Maybe it's the fact that he eventually loses what's left of his (joke; this isn't a mechanic in World of Darkness) Sanity Points and becomes a Mad Scientist, but once he's grown, his personality retains those upbeat, curious, wanting-to-share-everything qualities and he's a ridiculously good dad I have to stop talking about him before I write an essay.

#ask game #cowboybrunch #c: arthur royston #c: khalid abandonato

[mauesartetc]

I've seen it stated in a comment on reddit that Blitzo "deserved what happened to him at Ozzie’s. He forced himself on M&M’s date and then went out of his way to draw attention to himself KNOWING fizz was there. The entire event was a result of his own actions. Hell, Stolas treated it as an actual date and at least tried to make an effort to be sweet."

They also said:

""I’d like an acknowledgment of Blitz being the one who was in the wrong and admitting it himself. Stolas may be an out of touch rich aristocrat yes, but Blitz was neglecting him and taking advantage from the start. Stolas arguably had no reason to suspect that objectifying blitz was a problem considering he never seemed bothered by it until Ozzy’s. I’d like to think the hospital scene is what is starting the process of Stolas finally realizing blitz can’t be helped until he helps up himself and deals with his issues."

And I'm like: wtf? Are you seriously making Stolas into the injured party despite all the cr*p he has done? Hes the one who has apologizing to do; for objectifying and fetishizing Blitzo all while looking down on imps.

The last part stinks of not wanting white/privileged people to take accountability for microaggressions based on the excuse of them being "innocent".

Sorry, I know this is wildly beside the point, but:

cr*p

Dude, this is Tumblr, not TikTok. You don't have to censor yourself here. You don't have to make every word you write commercially viable. It's okay. Be free, little bird! Spew expletives left and right if you feel so moved!

I want everyone to feel free to speak their minds on this blog, and if that includes a few naughty words, so be it. Besides, I'm pretty sure no one's getting in trouble at work for reading a post that contained the word "crap".

Anyway, to the more pressing issue at hand: It's important to recognize at all times that these are fictional characters, not real people. They are puppets whose actions are dictated by writers. Yes, giving characters the illusion of agency when writing stories is a great way to engage your audience, but when analyzing stories, you have to focus on why the people who wrote them made the choices they did. Debating which character was in the wrong, or which character was more wrong, or which one should apologize, yadda yadda yadda, is a futile fucking exercise if you don't include the writers' intent in that conversation.

Let's look at Blitzo. He pretty objectively caused most of what went down at Ozzie's. He followed Moxxie and Millie, he invited Stolas, he drew attention to himself when he knew people who hated him were present. Now that last one seems pretty stupid, like the kind of mistake no one of sound mind in the real world would ever reasonably make. We could spend all day speculating what about his personality would lead him to do this, whether it's zero sense of self-preservation, a subconscious desire for self-sabotage, or simple inability to keep his damn mouth shut, but here's the thing: Other Helluva Boss characters have the same problem. To reiterate what I said here:

"Why did Octavia fully forgive her dad, no questions asked, even when he couldn't explain why he cheated on her mom? If Loona hates being around Blitzo so much, why didn't she just stay with the succubi on the beach? [...] Why did Moxxie make a huge romantic gesture in an environment where such gestures are frowned upon? [...] Why did Stolas bring an imp to a couples-only club despite knowing it'd ruin his reputation?"

The answer to all these questions is "because the plot demanded it." The writers wanted a certain outcome and wrote themselves into a corner before they could reach it organically. Instead of putting themselves into the characters' shoes or retracing their steps to make the endpoint feel like a logical conclusion, they just said "fuck it" and brute-forced the easiest solution, causing the result to make no goddamn sense.

Given the level this writing is on, it feels kinda pointless to argue with internet strangers over which character was in the right and which one wasn't. Subsequent episodes haven't addressed the events of "Ozzie's" (at least not in a way that means anything), leading me to believe the writers never cared enough about them to spark any sort of in-depth conversation. So why should we?

Honestly, this person just sounds like a Stolas simp. It's kind of a leap to assume they don't want real people of a certain race and class to bear responsibility for their actions. It's not that deep. None of this is that deep.

#helluva boss #helluva critical #helluva stolas #helluva blitz #writing #media literacy

[wedreamedlove]

Evan In Love - Character Study

I wasn't expecting to write this, because I don't believe I can do justice to his writers who have been hitting home runs since his [SSR Still in the Mirror] in 2021. I'm willing to die on the hill of claiming that Evan is one of the most fascinating characters I've ever had the pleasure of reading anywhere. The pull-push tension between him and the heroine is godly! So, instead of my usual analysis, I'm going to summarize the key points his writers have laid out instead.

In my opinion, Evan's views on love have gone through three stages.

First, there was terror. [Childhood]

To put it simply, Evan has had zero role models for a loving and healthy romantic relationship. He was 5 years old when his parents started fighting viciously with each other, culminating in his mother giving up on the family. If you remember, his father was cheating around this time and would go missing soon and be labeled as a traitor to the Blood Clan.

In addition, while we don't know when Evan first began attending Blood Clan events, we know he's been seeing Blood Clan customs since 14 years old, such as the orgy and bloodletting even at their weddings. The culture of the Blood Clan treats brides like objects; her family is not allowed at the wedding and, once married out, the bride becomes a possession of the groom.

[SSR Against One's Heart - 12 Years Ago Early Spring TRAJECTORY]

What exactly was "love"? It could make people lose their reason and sense of self in one moment, yet it could also make people become another person the moment they let it go.

The power it had was enough to produce a complete change in a person. Its existence was more powerful and more terrifying than any force.

Thinking of this, the young Evan suddenly felt an unprecedented terror.

[...]

What was love?

Was it an intimacy, passion, and desire that burned like a flame, or was it a commitment to another person that required one's whole life?

However, commitments would become distorted, desires would be devoured, raging flames would burn out, and the intimacy bound by life would one day spiral out of control.

Just like the cello strings in the hands of him and his mother. No matter how wonderful the music was that they played, the strings would suddenly break at a critical moment.

Evan: Heh.

Evan gave a low, self-derisive laugh. He was suddenly thankful that his gray past let him understand the essence of love and marriage.

Before he blindly chased "love" like everyone else.

The only warmth he ever received at this age was from his maternal grandmother and her servant but, in Evan's eyes, he had to lie to them to preserve this relationship. This created more psychological shadows for him, because his lies were exchanged for their love and peace of mind.

Second, there was incomprehension. [Teenage to Adulthood]

After the death of his maternal grandmother and her servant, Evan essentially became numb to the world. It's important to note here that, during his puberty, he's seen the carnality and hedonism of the Blood Clan and is mostly unmoved by it. There is a beastly instinct in him that craves blood, like them, but he also desires more.

[SSR Against One's Heart - 11 Years Ago Spring TRAJECTORY]

[...] I never dared to look directly at the sun, it always made me feel sinful, but that day was different. That day was different.

Its compassionate eyes made me feel that no matter what I did, even if it was depraved and sinful, everything would be forgiven. I remembered the warm embrace that I didn't want to leave when I was a child. My heart beat fast, my whole body was tightly tensed, and then a stream of heat ran up my spine and dripped down my body. For an instant, my brain was empty, and this sort of feeling was awkward and unfamiliar; however, my body was filled with a primitive and straightforward pleasure—a pleasure that had long since disappeared at some point in time.

I opened my eyes, panting. It was dawn.

If you think this sounds like something, you're not mistaken. Yes, Light and Night wrote a very tasteful masturbation scene for Evan. He found kindred spirits in fictional books and re-connected with the world this way. Specifically, the aforementioned scene is when he reads The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera and reaches a passage about Tomas and Tereza making love. What Evan is drawn to is not the pleasures of flesh, but a love that connects two souls.

A major point to understanding Evan is that he's a black sheep. He doesn't belong anywhere. To the Blood Clan, Evan is an abnormality because he has these "human" sentiments and disagrees with their values, even going so far as to be disgusted at their instincts. To us, this seems normal—and even praiseworthy—but imagine how lost a child would be growing up in a society where everything they did, thought, or felt was out of the norm.

Meanwhile, Evan also cannot join the human world because, fundamentally, he is not human and he has these monstrous instincts. Blood excites him. This isn't even bringing up the fact that he's been trained to be a ruthless weapon, with innocent blood on his hands, and so he really can't fit into normal society anymore.

All in all, this is Evan's state at the beginning of the game when we meet him. Deep down, he longs for a relationship that unites two people together but he has no model or experience for love. It's not a surprise that this incomprehension leads to his first birthday in 2021 being all about his struggle with love.

[In the Misty Night Birthday PV]

"Beyond my mind, there has always been something I cannot touch or see clearly. Is it love?"

In my opinion, [MAIN STORY CHAPTER 16] and [SSR Enticing Feast] are roughly around the same timeline, where Evan is drawn to the heroine but experience has repeatedly taught him that he loses everything in his life, so it's better not to have something than to have it and lose it. He will take disappointment and regret over bitterness and rage.

However, despite whatever he thinks in his mind, his body and actions show his true emotions all the time.

Third, the belief now that love is forgiveness, and the acceptance that comes with this. [Present]

[SSR Prairie Fire]

He slowly bent down, the restraint in his eyes suppressing the surge of desire. His actions were very gentle though and, like a devout believer, he gave the longest kiss to my fingertip.

Evan: Are you willing to forgive my desire?

Even at this moment, he still asked again to confirm my intention. I looked him straight in the eyes and nodded.

MC: I'm willing.

[...]

Evan: It seems this is truly an overly powerful phantasmagoria, and it'd be difficult to break relying on the power of just one person.

MC: Does it need the two of us together...?

I thought for a moment and then suddenly looked at Evan.

MC: When we broke the handcuff just now... I seemed to feel some sort of power pour in, was that yours?

Evan nodded.

MC: If that's the case, can we be bound together with the contract of a master and feast?

Evan: The Feast Contract?

Evan frowned reflexively. It was obvious he instinctively rejected the habits of the Blood Clan.

Evan: I don't want to do this to you.

MC: But in this situation right now, I'm afraid this is the quickest and most effective way.

A rare trace of hesitation flashed through Evan's eyes, but it was fleeting. He made a quick decision and seemed to agree with my judgment.

Evan: I will control myself and it's only a temporary contract.

MC: I trust you.

Evan embraced me, took my hand, and led me to lie down on the couch. Then he grabbed my wrist and, once again, kissed the fingertip he had just bitten.

Evan: In this contract, [MC] shall become my feast.

He pinched the pad of my finger carefully and the tip of his tongue swirled around the injury. A strand of blood oozed from the wound that had yet to heal and he gently licked it.

Evan: I shall open to you an abyss of desire, and you shall bring to me a tide of depravity.

Evan: This I vow, and seal with blood.

[...]

Evan looked at the side of the girl's defenceless and sound asleep face, letting out a long breath.

The old woman's astonished eyes still remained before his eyes and even he himself was surprised that the moment he sucked the girl's blood he unconsciously sent his own power to the dazed girl.

Evan looked at his hand, which had once been covered in blood. Later, in day after day of overt contentions and covert struggles, he became accustomed to calculating all his benefits and losses like a machine.

But in that instant he saw her trapped, whether it was the instinct of a beast that had been offended or out of an irrationality deep in his heart, he couldn't resist the emotion of wanting to rescue her.

He used to be so afraid of obtaining her, and so afraid of losing her. But in that moment, he threw all of that to the back of his mind and only wanted to take back something, possess something, and was willing to pay for it.

Evan: Is this... love?

A low voice overflowed from his lips subconsciously. A gust of cool wind blew and the sleeping girl unconsciously hugged his arm tightly. He didn't know what she dreamed about, but she seemed to reveal a satisfied smile.

Evan reached out and held her shoulders, letting the last light syllable dissipate in the evening breeze.

Perhaps this answer was no longer that important.

[2022 QIXI LOGIN MESSAGE]

"Under the majestic and boundless night sky, you are the one and only source of light in the depths of my heart."

It's hard to describe the relationship between Evan and his heroine. It's... complicated. Remember, Evan has no framework for love and so he's acting blind here. He can't even trust his instincts when it comes to her, because they're torn between wanting to drink her blood and possess her as well as protect and cherish her. I think this leads to the unconventional ways Evan's love is described in the game, like the aforementioned scene where he doesn't even attempt to define love.

I used to talk a lot about Mo Yi from Tears of Themis and his theme about what it looks like for a human to be in love, so I'm absolutely delighted that Evan's writers have decided to touch on this as well. Both of these men wish to be wholly bared and genuine to their heroines, but at the same time it's a terrifying ordeal to be known because they aren't archetypical "good" people. They show the messy spectrum of human emotions, including unkind thoughts and dark urges.

The concept of genuineness is tackled in [SSR Sinful Love]:

Evan: How come you're lost in thought, are you still thinking about that question before getting in the car?

MC: Yeah... I'm thinking about my "character".

Evan: A little rabbit?

MC: Yes. But, sometimes, I might not be the bunny you think I am.

Evan: But I think it's also out of tenderness that people will hide themselves and choose to show others their most suitable side.

Evan: No matter what kind of person you choose to be in front of me, I will cherish that feeling. This is enough.

I stared blankly at his smile and then suddenly came to a realization.

The reason people had characters and couldn't just act according to their own feelings was because they cared about the person in front of them.

It was because I cared about someone that I couldn't stop considering things for him, taking his feelings into account, and also caring about his opinion of me.

There is no one correct path to loving someone. Love can be inexplicable, complicated, and messy; however, when you act out of that intent and take the other person into consideration, I'm certain the other person will be able to feel it.

On a hilarious note, Evan's gap moe is not the standard cold to outsiders and warm to the heroine, but rather the opposite! He's unfailingly polite and a gentleman to others, but a troll and tease to the heroine. When he's being just a little bit rude, that's when you know he's being his true self.

Lastly, I'll close with Evan's beautiful marriage vows now that we know he must have come up with them himself, since the Blood Clan is... well, like that. Check out how his vows are direct references to the thoughts he had when he was 14 years old and questioning love.

[SSR Meaningful Contract]

Evan: I, Evan, take [MC] as my wife, my lifelong partner, and my only lover.

Evan: You are my desire that never withers. You are my deepest depravity and obsession.

Evan: I promise to love you forever, regardless if it's a blessing or curse or whether we be in heaven or hell.

Evan: I will take you out of despair and pain with both hands. With my heart, I will brew the mellow wine of your life.

Evan: If the relentless night comes, I will burn every inch of me to light up a path of life for you.

When the footsteps stopped, I turned my head and looked behind me.

Sunlight shone through the enormous stained glass and poured on that carpet of loyalty.

Evan stood in front of me and took my hand to touch his heart lightly, as if completing some kind of special ceremony.

Evan: Now, please allow me to ask for your forgiveness.

His solemn oath fell into my heart and produced a tiny resonance. I slowly closed my fingers and held his hand in return.

MC: I forgive you.

Right after I spoke, the corner of my lips were suddenly covered by a warm softness.

In a humid Salar in June, Evan leaned down and kissed me.

He carefully tore my lips and swallowed the rust-scented blood, little by little. The hand that was around my waist trembled slightly, as if trying to control some dangerous instinct.

Through wet breaths, I finally understood what exactly was the Kiss of Thorns of the Blood Clan—

Just like thorns piercing each other, only after making each other your only desire can it be regarded as offering up your soul.

#光与夜之恋 #light and night #LN Evan #LN Lu Chen #meta of light and night

[lightgirlification]

My God the Twisted Wonderland Manga

This manga portrays the pain that Riddle had to go through with so much more emotion then the game could portray.

The game does a fine job on it’s own, but the manga takes the story and RUNS with it. The expressions, the feelings, and again the emotions shine through brilliantly.

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

Riddle was twisted (haha pun) by his mother so fiercely that he believed his way was absolute, it wasn’t his fault it was just how he was raised. But how she molded him turned him into someone that he never wanted to be.

Look at this boy, this 17 YEAR OLD boy. This is not a normal expression nor words for someone his age to have or say, but he’s held in so much pain, been held down by so much pressure by his mother that it warped him.

Even on the verge of an overblot, he still tries to prove that his way is right. Maybe it’s because he didn’t realize he was using so much magic, maybe it’s because he didn’t care, maybe it’s a bit of both. He needed to prove everyone wrong, that he was right. Because:

In his mind, if was wrong, then all he learned, all he’s been through was for nothing. All that pain he’s been through was for nothing. In his mind he’s been through hell, why shouldn’t he have a happy ending?

Because it’s not fair, life isn’t fair is it?

He was granted a family that never shown him love, and never thought about what HE wanted.

Lady. He just wanted ONE THING for his damn birthday and you deny him even that. He is 8 years old and you not only neglect his wants, but his calory intake is MUCH too low. 

Riddle should’ve been allowed to run and play with other children his age, eat what he wanted, just allowed to be a normal child. He didn’t deserve to be cooped up studying all the time; his mother living through him.

And Chenya and Trey granted him that reprieve. They didn’t treat him like a glass doll or a pampered boy.

They treated him as he should’ve been from the very beginning. And they bonded deeply despite it only being just a few days, and it’s what riddle needed.

And being able to taste the strawberry tart he wanted to for so long:

It made him so happy, and isn’t that what he deserved? Being allowed a normal childhood with childhood friends and abundant sweets But good things can’t last forever.

Can you see why I DESPISE Riddle’s mother? She treats her own son like an object, something to be used to achieve her own goals. She gave Riddle so much trauma that he felt that rule breaking would lead people down a dark path.

So that’s why he became hardened. Listening to a mother that caused Riddle so much suffering when all Riddle wanted was her to love him. 

But still, he calls out to her, books piled and hands bloodied; desperately asking what ‘rule’ would make the pain in his chest go away.

And there is none. The only way that pain was ever going to go away was if he let his emotions out, and he was never allowed to. To me, an Overblot is equivalent to a real life mental breakdown. All the negative emotions come out, your head is completely overrun, and you can’t stop screaming. 

Your senses dull, you can’t remember where you are or whose around you, and you end up not caring if anyone hears. You could say things you never meant to say, things that you’ve kept deep inside and never wanted anyone to hear, but after holding it all in for so long you are past the point of caring. You just can’t take the anxiety that squeezes your chest like a vice, the voices and memories that repeat in your head like a VHS tape constantly rewinding itself. It’s terrifying, and you lose the ability to even breathe, starting to see everyone around you as a threat. It’s why I looked at Riddle after he overblotted and didn’t see a tyrant. I saw a lonely, terrified child who didn’t know what he was supposed to believe anymore.

And the difference between Riddle’s mother and him, is that he genuinely cares. This whole time, he just wanted everyone around him to excel and succeed, that desire was never corrupt. Was the way he went about it wrong, absolutely, but he has that chance to change, to be better then his mother ever was. He has a chance to grasp that freedom, it’s not too late for him.

And the saddest thing to me, is that Riddle has to pick up those pieces that he never should’ve in the first place.

But you know what? With the people he has at his side, he’ll be okay. Because despite everything, despite all those lonely years, he won’t be alone anymore.

#twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #trey clover #chenya #twisted wonderland grim #twisted wonderland yuu #cater diamond #ace trappola #deuce spade

[9800sblog]

ateez honest reaction when fans show up at the airport?

A+ for relevancy!

seonghwa and hongjoong didn't give permission to do or share the reading

members seem to have overall same opinions, although I did read individually, I did a text with overall consensus

yunho - justice, temperance reversed, 6 of wands reversed, ace of cups reversed (mom, can you pick me up? 😭)

yeosang - 4 of cups reversed, queen of pentacles, 9 of cups (I feel pretty damn cool, yall can chill now)

san - queen of cups, 2 of cups, the sun, 10 of wands, 8 of cups (I love you, please be organized so we can all benefit from this opportunity!)

mingi - 7 of swords reversed, the hermit reversed, 6 of pentacles reversed, king of pentacles (I feel like a rockstar but I'd much rather not)

wooyoung - page of swords, hanged man reversed, 4 of swords (go home... what's the point?)

jongho - queen of cups reversed, 9 of wands reversed, 2 of cups (I appreciate it but please control yourselves)

--

members enjoy it a bit, it makes them feel important and like stars. it's a part of the job everyone expects way before it begins, but nothing prepares someone for being in the situation and enduring it for a long time. they think it comes from obsession and competition between fans, to prove who is the biggest or deepest fan, and they do not appreciate being seen or treated as objects of desire instead of some guys with a job and a contract. they like the opportunity to be seen in a more casual setting, and mingi pointed out he gets to pick his own outfits and style himself, while he usually doesn't do that when the public sees him. san pointed out he feels bad ignoring fans, but he has no other choice because fans are too worried competing with each other to see the opportunity they have - he'd love to stop and take pictures, give autographs, talk but there's absolutely no way of doing that, even tho there are always reporters around and there is no reason for fans to obsess over the best close-up pictures and videos (he really had such a good point here I hadn't thought of that before). members pointed out having to be careful of showing documents, of looking ugly or gross even tho they're at THE place for all of that. members like yunho, mingi and jongho wish they could just be invisible. all members that answered would highly prefer having this habit shut down, for endless reasons, it's a source of a lot of anxiety and sadness for them.

#ateez tarot #ateez

[xxlovelynovaxx]

The end of a whole post about genuine transmisogyny and bioessentialism (that didn't cover how trans men and transmascs and plenty of AFAB and intersex nonbinary people are treated as violent invasive inherently dangerous monsters in most queer spaces, but y'know, we'll ignore that since it was a discussion specifically of transmisogyny)

So... people call nonbinary people "theyfabs" instead of calling them "female"? If an AMAB person was going off about "male solidarity" and "only males being safe" (or as I've explicitly seen in multiple spaces, "transfem only spaces" and "only transfems are safe" and treating nontransfems as violent invasive inherently dangerous monsters tainted by masculinity and femaleness... oh wait, can't ignore that part after all), they'd just call AMAB people "males" and not "theyfabs".

What is calling those people assigned MALE at birth doing, then? What makes separating trans people into aFab and aMab and deciding that one is inherently safe and trustworthy and the other are dangerous (trans) misogynist predators out to get everyone of the "other" sex any different? What about that behavior would not earn the name "theymab", except maybe that the people objecting to reducing nonbinary people down to their assigned gender at birth aren't the ones doing the disgustingly transmisogynistic "female solidarity" shit in the first place, and that they find that as disgusting as they find the fact that you used it as an excuse to do the exact same violence back at them?

Oh, you don't wanna hear that, do you? You don't wanna acknowledge that when you were excluded because of transmisogyny, you turned right around and instead of attacking the assholes that did it, you decided to coin a term that literally is about "afab nonbinary people being inherently dangerous" to have "solidarity against transmisogyny" by violently reducing other trans people to the genitals they had at birth.

Instead of just, y'know, calling them "transmisogynists who weaponize their agab", or even "bioessentialist transmisogynists", or hell, even "afab solidarity" fuckers or hell, some acronym about "assigned transmisogynist at female" idfk. No, there has to be a snappy exorsexist term that takes the violence of being called "male" and decides to throw that right back at a bunch of unrelated trans people for BEING afab regardless of them never once weaponizing it.

Let's not pretend theyfab in usage is anything other than "(sometimes afab) trans person who uses they/them who I don't like". Let's not pretend that it's actually primarily getting wielded against the "afab solidarity" shit people. Let's not pretend it's just a way of calling, usually nonbinary people, "females" in a "progressive" way.

(Also, being treated as a disgusting hideous freak by other trans people? Have you SEEN how the trans community treats testosterone, phalloplasty, breast-removal top surgery, metoidioplasty, being masculine or a man... etc?!)

Like, I've literally been called a theyfab, and I'm not female, nor have I ever been!

(I'm actually a visibly intersex person with very obviously mixed sexual traits, but IRL, about 50 percent of people think I'm male and the other 50 percent think I'm female. I regularly face every kind of transphobia because half of transphobes assume I'm a trans women and half assume I'm a trans man and they somehow manage to be both right and wrong)

It's funny, too. I've seen nonbinary AMAB people talking about being "cursed" with an "ugly gross" male body instead of the "other prettier body they could have been born with" who aren't called theymabs for it. On the other hand, I've seen transmascs called theyfabs for lamenting not being born with the handsome male body they so desperately desired called transmisogynistic theyfabs for... not wanting to be afab?

Like I'm not saying that tweet isn't grossly bioessentialist, I'm just saying it's hypocritical to not acknowledge that calling ALL male bodies gross and ugly and bad is just bioessentialism no matter who it comes from. I'm saying that if people are theyfabs for identifying as trans and female, but also theyfabs for not wanting to be female/wanting to be male, and even theyfabs for identifying as male when they transition (one I've also seen)...

... then maybe you just want an excuse to call trans people "females" in a socially acceptable way and to do some "only (trans) women and femmes are safe and pure and good" shit.

That's a you problem. Because tacking "trans" on the front of "women and femmes only" doesn't actually make it better. "No men or females" isn't actually any better than "no men or males". And judging whether nonbinary people are "safe" not based on their actual gender, but by their infant genital configurations decades ago, is just basic fucking transphobia

#discourse