#there has to be order when it comes to displaying objects

[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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#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #lee know x reader #skz x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz fics #skz fanfics #kpop smut #kpop fics #kpop fanfics #seospicy smut

[barrenclan]

PATFW: Animal Name Systems

As more non-Clan characters get introduced to the story, I’ve been having fun coming up with the naming systems for various animals. In real life there would probably be more natural variety within a whole species, but also making up little systems is fun so I don’t care. Also, as a technical note, obviously none of these names are in “English”. They’re in whatever language animals speak. So, like, Hacksaw is not literally “hacksaw”, it’s the animal word for that object. 

Cats - with the exception of warriors (who obviously have an incredibly specific naming system), cat names tend to be more loose, and can be named after many things. In general, they are shorter. House cats are also an exception, as they are named by people and so their names can be very different. Ex. Cashew, Summer, Rowan, Egret, Thrasher, Jackalope

Wolves and coyotes - like cats, wolves also have a more loose naming system. Often wolves are named after someone else, to honor them. Coyote communities are heavily linked to wolf communities, so their rules are similar. In general, they are longer. Ex. Coldbreath, Nightshade, Lucky-Foot, Antlerhorn, Ranger

Deer - deer are always named after plants. No exceptions to this. Often the plants are ones that the parents admire or enjoy. Ex. Wild Rose, Juniper, Hyssop, Maple, Lingonberry

Mountain lions - they are named after some kind of aspirational trait at birth that their parent is hoping they fulfill. Sometimes this leads to funny, ironic circumstances, but usually the kitten is shaped by their name and strives to embody it. Ex. Ferocity, Swiftness, Cunning, Power, Caution

Porcupines - for the first year of their life, porcupine kits are named after the order in which their mother gave birth to them. Ex. First, Second, Third, etc. When the porcupine has come of age, they are given their adult name. These names are short and functional, usually no more than four letters. Ex. Mud, Snap, Snow, Blue

Falcons - chicks are never given names by their parents, and are generally treated as indistinguishable when young. Once they leave the nest, falcons name themselves whatever they like. Frequently these names are inspired by human artifacts, as falcons (and many other bird cultures, as well as raccoons) value their liminal relationship to humans. Ex. Hacksaw, Highway, Black-Wing, Perils, Artemis

Bears - at birth, bears are given short, silly names, meant to be inconsequential. Ex. Fuzz, Seed, Bug, Baby. When they come of age, they are given an adult name by the eldest bear, whether it’s a large group or just a family. These names are structured as some kind of brag about the individual’s qualities, to impress others and display dominance. They are composed of two words in the trait separated by a hyphen. Ex. Longest-Claws, Fiercest-Roar, Strongest-Jaw, Thickest-Pelt. However, if the bear is disliked or considered weak, they can be also be called a version of this structure that is an insult. Ex. Dullest-Mind, Weakest-Strike, Softest-Heart. The greatest shame of all, though, is an adult bear forced to keep their childhood name. 

#lore

[sillysowa]

Ok I have a request :) could maybe guess who this is but AHDBSH

The fem reader is a villain while Hobie is the “hero”(not rlly but I forgot what it’s called) that’s been tracking down the reader. But, during the day the both live their normal lives, the readers day job being a barista at the local Cafe. Of course during the night her identity is hidden so she isn’t recognized during the day, which leads to the one morning when Hobie goes to the local coffee shop to order a drink and unknowingly ordering it from his masked nemesis.

What’d ya think? <3

I LOVE your brain anon! Sorry for the wait and if it seems rushed!

BEHIND THE MASK

pairing : hobie brown x fem!prowler!reader

genre : fluff, slightly suggestive

word count : 3k

warnings : violence

authors note : reader is the prowler but i have incredibly minimal knowledge on the prowler lol

synopsis : hobie has a date with a cute barista who just so happens to be the prowler

—

“And what exactly do you think you’re doin?”

Spiderpunk’s agonizing voice cuts through the silence of the night and you freeze in your tracks. You knew he’d find you tonight—always chasing after you like a moth to a flame, or a fly to a spiders web.

He drops down from the wall, thrusting his hands into his pockets and clicking his tongue, his loud boots slapping against the ground behind you,

“What’ya got in that bag of yours? Up to something you shouldn’t be?” He questions, coming right up behind you and whispering next to your ear. You turn around, your hands up as you look at him through your mask,

“Bold of you to assume i’ve done anything, I could just be out for a midnight stroll.” You shrug slyly, toying with him. You know just as well as he does that he could have tried to take you down by now, he’s clearly just wanted a little foreplay as usual.

“Oh, is it now? You’ve got this guilty air about you.” He asks, completely prepared for any attack that you might have up your sleeve, “You really want me to believe a dirty little liar like you, hm?” As he provokes you, his gloved hands reach up to your face only to get smacked away, but he only smiles harder—he expected it. A scoff can be heard from under your mask,

“Miss me, Spiderpunk? You seem awfully excited.” You sneer, voice muffled a deeper more menacing tone. His animated mask portrays his every expression, a squinty smirk plastered on his face,

“How’d you know?” He smirks, coming closer. You flex your fingers, claws baring menacingly before you rip a smoke bomb off your belt and slam it down, making Spiderpunk stumble back before you lunge at him through the cloud. His senses go wild, and he web shoots to the wall, swinging around and pulling his guitar out while you’re down. Your momentum landing you on your knees after he dodged, and you can’t react fast enough for his attack. He’s got his guitar above his head before he slams it down on your back,

“Ah!—Fuck me!” You grumble, rolling over and jumping up, shaking your head with your hands in front of you defensively.

“Only if you ask nicely, gorgeous,” He’s got his guitar out on display as if it’s a sword, making you scoff,

“In your dreams.” Your crack your neck and lunge at him, grunting and swinging wherever you can reach from your stance. You’d never admit it, but his height creeped you out and excited you all at once. Never in a million years would you get with a person like Spiderpunk—a loud, obnoxious, wannabe ‘hero’—but the fact that he towered over you like he did made you nervous in the best way possible. You tried to ignore the feelings deep in your stomach and focus on the way that made you feel about your fighting, afraid that he could overpower you if you let your guard down even slightly—which you did. He had used his fucking guitar pick—the small object somehow slicing your arm. You gasped and he hurriedly backed up, nearly tripping over his feet. At first he was dodging your punches well until you threw a right hook in, your knuckles meeting his jaw with as much force as you could muster,

He had no time to react as he stumbled down. You kicked him across the face and pinned his hands down under your shoes. You knew you had to act fast and get the hell away from him,

“Couldn’t have wined and dined me first?” He quips, his wrists pinned beside his head and his legs spread under you. It’s quite a sight—the city’s hero sprawled out under you like this at your mercy. You shake the thoughts out of your head,

“Catch you later, Spiderpunk.” You rasp, reaching to your belt and popping the cap off a homemade bomb. His eyes triple in size as you throw it, your boot shoving his face down before you flee. He scrambles and slings away before the bomb explodes and the walls surrounding it crumble.

He watches from across the street as the damage ensues, cursing to himself when sees the faint glow of your suit as you disappear into the night. You were such a pain in his ass—but couldn’t keep away.

—

—?” You yell out the name of an order, setting a drink and pastry down. You smile at the customer who walks up and thanks you, giving them a quick smile before returning to the register, swapping out with your coworker,

“Thanks again, Y/N.” They sigh. This isn’t typical behavior from your coworker, they’re typically very hard working but they told you a chunk of their apartment complex was blown up last night. Of course, you had to sympathize with them and help make their shift a little easier—it’s the least you could do after being the unknown cause of their distress.

“Yeah don’t worry about it.” You wipe off your uniform and put on a smile for the customers of the small café you work at. It had been an exhausting shift—only 30 minutes in and it already felt like hell. You looked up ready to give your best customer service voice when your words caught in your throat…

The man in front of you was absolutely breath taking. He had these high cheekbones and pretty eyes, full lips with a ring to compliment them, perfectly styled hair and jewelry all over—god his fashion too. He had this punk rock thing going on, and he was absolutely killing it. Even his body language was attractive, the way his hands were on either side of the table, leaning over slightly to reach your level,

“Mornin’.” He starts, his deep voice only spurring on your attraction towards him, “Could I just get a…” He looks up, biting the inside of his cheek before sighing, “Having a hard time making a choice—wide selection you’ve got. What do you recommend?” He asks with a curious expression, bending down close to hear you over the machinery, clanging dishes, and customer chatter.

You’re stunned, not expecting you’d have to think. After a little stuttering, you can finally think,

“W-Well we have this Persian tea. It’s a black tea base with cardamom and rose petals?” You suggest, your face heating up when he smiles because of course he has the lost beautiful smile you’ve ever seen, “It’s my favorite.” You add, voice coming out oddly quiet and now you’re incredibly embarrassed for reasons you can’t name,

“Sounds perfect, gorgeous.” He eccentrically squints his eyes and shakes his head as he speaks, half lidded eyes locking with yours again.

“And the name for your order?” You ask, tapping in the details on the screen before making eye contact with him,

“Hobie.” And of course, there’s something about the way he says his name that has you melting, but you desperately try to ignore it and pull yourself together. He whips out his wallet and hands you a large bill, your fingers slipping against his as you take it into your hand. You ring him up and gather his change, which he adamantly refuses to take,

“Keep it.” The stunning man winks, walking away and waiting in the line of others who have ordered. For a moment, you stand there completely appalled. When you turn to look at your coworker she’s already staring at you,

“…Oh my god?” She mouths, her hand over her mouth, “You better go make his drink and write your number on his cup, girl—move over i’ve got the register.” She laughs in disbelief, just as flustered as you,

“Thank you, thank you.” You hurriedly giggle, feeling guilty almost at her eagerness before moving out of her way and fumbling around, steeping his tea immediately. You were extra meticulous when crafting his order, wanting it to be just perfect. You caught glimpses of the rockstar-like man over the counter a few times, and almost every time he was already looking at you. You had to bite your lip to fight back the smile that tugged at your lips. When you poured his tea in a cup and clicked the cap on, you pulled out your sharpie and wrote his name messily, scribbling your number under it. With a cheeky smile you set the cup down,

“Hobie?” You call out like you have no idea who he is despite holding eye contact with him. He walks over, pulling a hand out of his pockets and wrapping his long fingers around the cup,

“Thank you, doll.” He rasped, scanning you over one last time when suddenly he squints,

“Y’alright? Doesn’t look like just a little scratch.” He asks you with his eyebrows furrowed, pointing low and squinting in concern. You’re just as confused as he is for a moment, looking down with your heart stopping as you realize it’s the cut from when Spiderpunk sliced you with his guitar pick, the memories of last night flooding into your brain and causing a panic in your nerves, your adrenaline pumping in a flash,

“Oh this? I got this from a clumsy accident the other day, it’s really no biggie.” You brush it off, covering the cut with your hand and cursing internally. You want to hide and never show your face again, the worst possible outcomes clouding your thoughts. He doesn’t seem concerned about your response, taking it for the truth,

“You better be more careful then, yeah?” He playfully chastises, turning to leave, “See y’round, pretty.” And with that, he walks out of the café, humming in delight at the flavors in your favorite drink. He’s almost done with his drink when he finally notices your number on the cup, laughing to himself and freezing in his tracks.

—

You got a call that night after your shift—you knew you would. When you picked up the phone and his deep voice was on the other end you just about melted into your bed.

“Hey, Hobie.”

“Hello, lovely—never got your name.” He mutters on the other end, background shuffling and movements loud enough to reach your ears. He sounds like he’s flipping switches and plugging stuff in,

“It’s, Y/N.” You chirp. Hobie feels a smile take over his face as he learns your name, repeating it a couple times,

“Such a pretty name you’ve got.” He coo’s his voice low and sultry. You smile widely, stupidly giddy over this

stranger,

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He says smugly. On the other side of the phone you can faintly hear what sounds like a guitar, an electric guitar, “How about we go out sometime, yeah? When can I see you?” He asks, his voice charismatic.

You think, caught between wanting to see him tomorrow and wanting to be careful about who sees you that day. Tomorrow you had shady plans, and you didn’t want to get him roped into it, “Hm…it sounds weird but can I see you at nine?” You ask with a questioning tilt in your voice, “I understand it’s late but—“

“No worries, hun, works f’me.” He insists, causing you to sigh in relief.

“Okay great! thank you, Hobie.” You smile, fidgeting with your clothes anxiously. He hums and you feel your heart race,

“See you then, Y/N.”

—

Tonight would be the craziest heist of your life if you could pull it off. Keyword, if.

You didn’t know, but Spiderpunk had been following you the entire night. He had to keep a close watch on you after that stunt you pulled last time. You had somehow managed to outsmart him and he couldn’t let it happen again. You were currently in an alleyway, your pace fast and your head down—you honestly couldn’t look more suspicious as you walked towards the bank.

“Don’t think so.” He mutters to himself, slinging down and following you stealthily. He crept along the walls, keeping a watchful eye on you as you literally sawed open the wall, following close behind.

You on the other hand had a lot of tasks you were juggling all at once—you were texting Hobie telling him you’d see him in 15 minutes, sawing the building open, and watching your back simultaneously.

Spiderpunk, who couldn’t yet see you well enough to notice you were texting with your other hand, jumped when his phone vibrated with a notification. He pulled it out and quickly checked it, his heart racing at your name lighting up his screen. He just had to take you down to make it to the date on time—easy peasy.

He crept into the bank, catching a glimpse of you breaking into all their stashes and safes, literally stuffing cash into your bag. You look rushed and panicked, not as tactful as your usual self. He find it entertaining and comical decided to mess with you a little,

“In a hurry?” That low and taunting voice makes your skin crawl, whipping your head around, fingering tightening on your bag. Of course he was here, how could you have missed him? Or more importantly, how could he have not missed you? You knew it was a shot in the dark to just assume he wouldn’t find you this night as he always does—you bet he has some kind of affinity for you. A gravely sigh tumbles from your lips, shaking your head and slinging your bag over your shoulder,

“Look—I can’t fool around with you tonight, let’s skip the small talk.” You grunt, clicking your claws into readied fists, staring him down with precision. Spiderpunk liked fighting you when you were playful, but there was something about fighting you when you were annoyed that really excited him,

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” He teases with a low whistle, webbing towards you feet first. You dodge, grunting and lunging at him, both of you rolling until he’s got you under him, attempting to restrain you. You bring your knees up and kick him off of you, jumping up and circling him. He stares you down for a while, that messy painted mask squinty-eyed,

“Come on.” He sneers, beckoning you with his two, very long, middle fingers suggestively. You laugh at this, lunging at him in a series of calculated movements. He fights you off, throwing out quips and sly remarks to fire you up. You swing at him, your claws out, and he struggles against you when you attempt to stab him with them, pushing your wrists against the wall and grunting through the struggle. You’re shaking under him, hissing and squirming in an attempt to free yourself when he webs you to the wall.

“Fuck! God—“ You groan, frustrated and beyond pissed at what this means for you. Hobie’s face flashes in your brain and you cringe at the idea of standing him up like this,

“Please! Please just let me go this time…” You grunt, the webs holding you down like a barricade as he pulls your bag off you, spilling the contents out onto the floor—your phone, your outfit for the date, and all the money scattered across the cool tile,

“What’s with the dress? Got a date tonight?” He hums, picking up the fancy garment before dropping it back in place when you just scoff. Hobie reaches down to gather up the money when he notices the time on your phone, straightening up and pulling his own phone out,

“Shit—it’s that time already?” You watch as he hurriedly texts someone, his thumbs dancing across the screen. You slump against the wall as much as you can being restrained, sighing in pure frustration when your phone buzzes.

You both freeze—you because you’re deathly embarrassed and Hobie because his heart drops into his stomach. Directly after he sent a text to Y/N, your phone lit up. He looks at you, trying to decode your body language as he bends down and picks up your phone, confirming his suspicions.

Sure enough, there’s a text from him, or ‘Hobie,’ right in the middle of your lock screen. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, laughing to himself with his shoulders shaking in tandem.

You on the other hand are completely and utterly unaware of what just happened, still stuck to the wall and helplessly watching the scene in front of you. He stuff his and your phone into his pocket, muttering something to himself that you can’t quite make out before he walks towards you, the soles of his boots echoing in the dark empty bank,

“What the—why did you take my phone? What are you-“ Your rambles are cut short as his gloved hands come up to your mask, removing it despite your protests. After tossing it to the ground, he simply takes it all in. It’s you, his date—the prowler. You’re obviously still completely oblivious to what’s transpired and therefore furious,

“Answer me asshole! What good is seeing my face gonna do for you?“ And now, it’s your turn to be completely speechless as Spiderpunk pulls his mask off. Hobie’s dark hair springs out, his pretty face glowing in the low light and a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches you swallow the same truth as he did,

“Cant say I was expecting this.” He whispers coyly, eating up the way you instantly grow quiet and flustered, this extra layer added onto your relationship clearly only exciting you more. You gulp nervously, your heart racing at this sudden turn of events,

“Me neither…” You whisper, simply unable to be mad or upset when now you’ve got your cake and you’re about to eat it too.

Hobie doesn’t do much thinking when he unties you and kicks the money aside, or when he tells you to put on that pretty dress and let him take you out properly. You’re completely stunned, staring down at your prowler claws before stuffing them in your bag and walking out the hole you cut into the bank, Hobie waiting against the wall for you,

“So…about all of this?” You awkwardly chuckle, motioning to the bank, the money, and the mess. Hobie being the anarchist he is simply shrugs, extending his palm for yours and clasping it when you place it against his, slinging away into the night to finally go on that date,

“Not my problem.”

—

@ohxx @luxxtuxx @fatenpara @hobesbf @defnot-bri

#across the spiderverse #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #spider punk #hobie brown #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown x you #hobie spiderverse #spiderman #silly’s fics

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 4)

Link learns some things. And so do you.

Yet another for the ever growing pile of self-indulgent garbage refuse. Enjoy the process of decomposition with me for a while.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The yiga. A faction of Ganon worshipping traitors formerly of the Sheikah clan, whose main objective is to kill the Hero known as Link (in other words, himself). Known for their distinctive red body suits and white masks. And, strangely enough, their love of bananas.

They were also currently at the very top of Link's (until recently non-existent) shit list, because AM had deemed their threat level too great to allow them to meet each other freely. As Blue had told him, AM's profession placed them at greater danger than the average citizen to the assassins' blades. What that profession was, Link was not told (despite his pleading and intense stares and even one memorable attempt to bargain for the information), but it was deemed necessary to maintain distance because of this.

There were plenty of other useful things in the book too. Not a letter or a note or even a small bundle of documents. A book. An honest to Goddess book. Because there was nothing else the ridiculously thick, neatly piled collection of leather bound miscellaneous papers, maps, diagrams, notes and documents could be. It was the thickness of Link's hand for goodness sakes.

Thankfully, Blue had taken mercy on him (and his desire to get moving as soon as possible) and bookmarked the pages and maps that would be most useful to him. All while giving him that bland, graceful smile of hers and explaining that AM was a very proactive information gatherer, but that they didn't always consider that not everyone wanted to know the exact region Sneaky snails bred in or where the highest priced wheat could be found.

Link very deliberately didn't tell her that he did, in fact, find those very interesting topics to learn about (and that he would be reading through the entire book when he got the chance. later). Because he was still stung that she'd given him a condescending little smile (smirk, it was a damned smirk and Link knew it) when he'd tried to bargain with her for more information on AM.

In total, he'd spent three days in Hateno, gathering information (as though the book wasn't enough), gathering supplies (because as many as were in the slate, it didn't have everything a warrior would need to maintain his gear. Blue's words, not his) and getting to know the people around the area.

Also, armor. Costume fitted (Link didn't think too hard about how Blue had gotten his measurements) as to AM's specifications before they'd left town. The order arrived a little later due to his (apparently) small size causing complications with some of the straps.

Honestly, it felt good. It felt familiar with a hazy kind of comfort that spoke of his body's remembrance of such armor resting upon it often. And suddenly, in that moment, the thought that he had once been a knight didn't feel so far off, despite having no memory of it and very little desire to become as such again.

Ready to go (finally) he put on his boots, tightened the straps of his new (fitted. maybe he'd see about getting his Sheikah armor fitted as well if he was in the area) hyrulian armor set, and took one last shot before departing.

"Where can I get more bananas?" Link tried, going for casual but coming off far too intense for it to be anything but prying. "For the Yiga problem."

Blue just smiled (small and condescending, and so frustrating) before replying evenly. "AM has that well in hand I'd imagine." The knowing glint in Blue's eyes put a pout on Link's face. "It's best you focus on your mission, Courageous One." Then she smiled genuinely. Just a bit, but enough to ease Link's heart as she continued. "Fear naught for your beloved AM. No harm shall befall them while my sister haunts their shadow."

Link believed her. And with that little bit of reassurance, the Hero of Hyrule set out into the world once more. With courage in his heart and his goal ever at the forefront of his mind.

Defeat the Calamity guy. Meet AM. Travel this vast, wondrous world with them for the rest of their days. Or, maybe one day settle down more permanently in Hateno and open a food stand.

Anywhere life took them. Whatever you wanted. This was the beginning of his new life after all, and he was so eager to spend it with you.

---

You stared up at the quickly growing pile of bright yellow fruit with something like regret stabbing at your heart. Just thinking about how much rupees you were about to drop on this one purchase alone was enough to put a hitch in your throat. It was enough to have you contemplating a long walk off that equally long (absurdly long) wooden bridge just next to the stable.

When you'd stopped at Lakeside Stable for the night and told Adino you'd pay him market price for any bananas he brought back to you before you left. You hadn't expected him to take that as a challenge. You hadn't expected Skims to get involved in it as well. And you most certainly had not expected Red to show up out of nowhere with a pile rivaling (and maybe even surpassing) Adino's.

And thus, within the span of a few short hours, you were suddenly several thousand rupees poorer (not that that pantry amount even scratched the surface of your accumulated wealth, but you digress) and many, many bananas richer.

At least they tasted good.

"Not that I'm against your presence. But why are you here, Red?" You asked the red clad woman after (with a heavy heart) passing out everyone's pay for the bananas they'd brought you. (Skims and Red didn't even have the grace to look ashamed for muscling in on the quick profit either, the jerks.)

She didn't even pause from where she'd been fingering through her newly acquired (ill gotten) gains when she hummed playfully. "Oh. Gran thought it'd be wise to send along a little extra protection to ensure The Hero's benefactor remained unmolested during these most crucial of times."

The look on your face must have been confused enough to spur Red to explain. "Gran told us to keep you in the dark about our motivations, but I like you. So I'll tell you the truth, since you seem like the reasonable sort." She finally put the rupees down and turned to face you, eyes hardening into a serious shade of near black as she explained.

"The Hero is without his memory, and until recently, was without motivation to see his mission through with the urgency it requires. Had he been as he was before, just the mention of the Princess would have been enough to send the guy running, if you believe the rambling of nostalgic old gossip crows." Her lips twisted into something too complicated to decipher before it was neutral again.

"But he's not the man he used to be. He's not the princess's knight anymore for all his destiny would push him to be. And so, he needed a new motivation to get him moving." She gave you a smile, but it wasn't a nice one (it was one full of spite and pity, though only the pitying part was directed at you). "That's you. The guy loves you already. Call it situational stockholm or just that damned knightly instincts of his, but you are the apple of his eye." She tried to soften her smile into something humorous, but it fell short.

"Bottom line. You're the replacement motivation. Just until he gets enough of his memories back to get invested in the Princess' wellbeing." She flicked a rupee off the stump she'd gathered them on, expression very closed off as she continued.

"Whenever Mr. hero gets a little too comfortable playing house, we're supposed to dangle you in his face and get him interested again. That you seem invested in his success was just a bonus. Be it the Will of Hylia or just simple coincidence, doesn't matter. You're useful, and if it gets the Princess out of that Hell, we're willing to use that."

Another smile, sharp but honest. "It's our duty after all, to serve the royal family. I'm sure you understand." Despite the way the information settled sourly in your stomach you nodded, keeping your expression as even as possible.

She noticed though, and suddenly her hand was on yours (you hadn't noticed it tightening into a fist). "Don't fret, Apples." She smiled again, softer this time. Eyes lighted with a compassion that held such raw honesty despite her earlier words. "My sister and I are not going to let the elders use you like that. You might have asked yourself why Bluey isn't here instead, since, you know-" She smirked, side-eyeing Adino who'd gone some distance off to try to find more bananas (to take more of your rupees, the little bastard).

"We will fulfill our duties. For the protection of Hyrule and everything we love. But not at your's or your dear Hero's expense. At least, not like that. You see, Bluey has something I do not, and that is a gentle touch. She'll take care of the Hero in the way he needs, not the way that'll get the fastest results." Her smirk widened. "And she's got more of a rebellious streak than me too. Trust in her. She'll protect your dear Hero. Even if she has to spit in the elders' eyes to do it. She never could put her heart aside for the sake of duty."

You were silent for a time, digesting her words with the weight and attention they deserved, before looking back to her. A smile on your lips, and your hand out before her in the gesture of a shake.

"I look forward to doing business with you then, Red." You began, letting the edge of your resolve sharpen your eyes and embolden your words. "Let's do our best to protect Link and save Zelda. We'll give it everything we've got."

Red grinned, full and bright and smug (so unbearably smug, like she had won the lottery. which they didn't have here, and you were not interested in introducing any time soon either). "I knew you were gonna understand. The Goddess wouldn't choose just anyone to guard her chosen's heart."

You blinked. "What?"

Red picked up another rupee, flicking it at you. "What~?"

---

Now, off to work! And then the shadows to rest.

#botw link #botw x reader #link x you #link x reader #isekai reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

It's Valentine day, and some fan service when Crewel daughter lost a bet and wearing a bunny outfit that hugs her curvs bit too well ( think of Jessica Rabbit level of sexy ) and all confident of her body as she sings on stage for them

All the boys reaction seeing both display and the show

I'm not doing all of them

🖤🖤🖤🖤

Valentines Performance | Yandere TWST x Crewel Daughter Reader

First and foremost Crewel’s daughter never loses a bet

But charity does look good on her record so she’d do it

Heck you might even suggest it

“What? I know from my head to my toes that I’m practically irresistible. Of course you’d want me to be the main performance.”

You wouldn’t do it for just some boys wishing to ogle you for their own desires

That would be of no benefit to you

In fact, you’d force Crowley to pay

Who in turn forces your admirers to cough up a significant amount

But if you’re going to go through the trouble of dressing up and performing it will be for a good cause and for a good paycheck

So many lonely, sad people on such a day is something a princess shouldn’t ignore

If you have curves than great but even without you’re just as alluring 

But like everything you do it has the boys drooling:

Azul Ashengrotto

He was proud to be apart of the latest cashgrab charity that the school was fundraising

And he was even happier to call upon you under that pretense

Its been years since he’s heard you sing

He can only imagine what its like now 

And with the excuse of being practice he’ll hear the chords you so casually ring out as the charity dinner is mapped out

But only when you’re fully made up and singing does he feel like his investment was truly worth it

“A-a-ah (Y/n) that was–”

“Amazing, I know. I can tell you’re excited but don’t go inking all over the floor before the finale.”

“Y-yeah.”

He really does have to stop himself 

He’s just so enamored 

One day he’ll have to ask trick you into singing a serenade to him

“A mate’s song needs to be, at the very least, decent enough to attract. Naturally, (Y/n) would exceed that, she truly is a prime mate and the only one I’d ever bother chasing after.”

Kalim Al Asim

He loves that you’re scheduled to perform

Money isn’t an object anyway so he’s happy to pad your paycheck and donation

He just loves loves loves anything you do 

You could go outside in a chicken wunzie and sing horribly he’d still fling his money in your direction

But as he watches you appear on stage make up done, dress hugging tight something burns

His cheeks get warm and suddenly his clothes feel too hot to wear

A yearning that Kalim barely acknowledges to dangerous takes over and he’s in a daze for the entirety of the night

Don’t interrupt the performance 

Don’t bother him while he’s watching you sing in that sultry tone

Or you can see what its like when Jamil’s happy to follow Kalim’s orders+

“(Y/n) you should sing more often! Your voice is so beautiful!” 

“Thank you, Kalim.”

“Will you be doing another set? I’d love to play along side you!”

He’ll be replaying your performance in his head for years to come

Always letting a smile come to his face

“Wow I can’t get her voice out of my head! Maybe I should ask her to sing to me everynight!”

Vil Schoenheit

If he isn’t hired himself to join you he’ll donate his talent with a small fee

But to be seen by millions as the most beautiful dream couple 

Neige could never

But ego aside he loves nothing more than performing with you side by side

Brought back to the days you two would make little plays and shows for your fathers to watch 

Now this was just fate in work, wasn’t it

That you two would be preparing a duet that’d have the world talking for weeks 

“Are you ready to delivery our harmony of ecstasy?”

“You know I am. I like your trim by the way.”

“And I yours. Though we both know anything you wear is better than couture.”

For this moment and this moment only will he encourage the hunter to share his recordings

He won’t be able to hear your voice out in the crowd

But it couldn’t compare to the sound of being beside you

As it was always meant to be

“Becoming a duo? Who’s to say? We both have big plans for the future but naturally we’ll be together asitsalwaysbeen.”

#vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere kalim al asim #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul twst #yandere kalim x reader #yandere kalim #yandere kalim al asim x reader #yandere vil twst #yandere vil x reader #yandere kalim twst #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere #yanderes #yanderes x crewel daughter reader #yandere crewel #yandere crewel dad

[singingcicadas]

Rodimus and making Necessary Sacrifices

The most famous one: blowing up Nyon

Btw Megatron could totally have saved the people in Nyon if he wanted to; he knew about Zeta's plan beforehand. All he needed to do was give Hot Rod and the citizens an evacuation alert. But he didn't because he wanted to give Optimus a good emotional impact with all the deaths and who cares about the common lowlife anyway, all they're good for is getting bodily thrown at Zeta until his weapon overloads from draining too many people.

Kimia station in Chaos Theory:

Red text bubble is Optimus. He doesn't wait for Optimus to agree before directly giving Omega Supreme orders to shoot Kimia down.

Reaction after confirming that Doubledealer is a traitor:

Using Rung as bait for the sparkeater:

The last two panels also gives us something on how he views (his own) authority. Because while he's always held a position of authority in high command, the high command is still a council. On the ship his authority is absolute.

The next three scenarios form a pattern. It always starts with Rodimus telling someone to kill a comrade, the person tasked with the killing goes 'what I don't want to do that', and Rodimus tones down the order from death to wound.

Ordering Rewind and Swerve to shoot at Fort Max:

Ordering Swerve to hurt Ore:

Ordering Cyclonus to shoot Brainstorm:

Each of these scenarios is in response to a critical situation. Rodimus' first orders of 'aim to kill' are, while extreme, not disproportionate to the level of threat presented. They're within reason and authority. And ceding from kill to wound when protested is proof that he doesn't not care. But it also shows that his first instinctual reaction towards threats is to kill first ask questions later, even if the threat used to be his friend, comrade, or compatriot, he's able to weigh the lives on a scale and make that hard decision. He's also the type of person who's very comfortable with taking the fates other people into his own hands and deciding whether they should live or die (which is why him choosing to spare Getaway after retaking the Lost Light is a sign of character growth).

His characterization is fairly consistent throughout the comics, except for this:

Everything in Spotlight Hot Rod goes against his later presentations. In his spotlight he's said to repeatedly beat himself up over one failed mission and is averse to taking responsibility towards other people for fear that he'd get them killed but in later issues he has No Problems doing exactly that. He displays no preferences for 'going solo' aside from the mission to retrieve the matrix and that's because everyone else kicked him out. When he wanted to leave on the Lost Light he made speeches to convince other people to join him despite the fact the Autobots were already outnumbered on Cybertron and taking people away would make their situation worse. Whenever he went anywhere in mtmte he assembled a team to accompany him.

This scene especially contradicts Spotlight Hot Rod in every single way. The only consistent aspect of his character is the recklessness. He forces Optimus to authorize a rescue mission, of which he declares himself the team leader, ignores Optimus' caution about keeping it clandestine and tells everyone to barge through the front door, shuts Ironhide's objections down by pulling rank, then falls into a trap and gets Ironhide killed. Mission failed too obviously, they only got Prowl out. Optimus takes responsibility for the failure and surrenders to the humans, of which Rodimus' response is: "he freaked out because he couldn't hack it" and promptly also proceeds to drop everything and leave because yay there's no one to keep me on this stupid planet anymore and whoever wants to can come with. Where. is the guilt.

That and the whole fiasco with Swindle and Menasor were probably Rodimus' worst moments lol. Overall he's the type of leader good with stressful trolley problems but bad at considering the larger or long-term implications of his actions. His flippancy towards life and death and tendency to solve problems with the bluntest approach bleeds heavily into his leadership decisions and... just how his character is in general. Thank goodness there's only one of Drift and he's gone for most of the Lost Light voyage, Rodimus really doesn't work well with too many yes-men hanging around.

#I don't like Spotlight: Hot Rod either it's too over the top #this is just rambling it doesnt even have a main point #going through the screenshots I have saved up so I can delete them from my computer #idw transformers #transformers #maccadam #mtmte #rodimus #hot rod

[subskz]

thoughts on free use with skz?

hmm i think chan, hyunjin, and felix might be into it the most!

channie wants to make himself useful to you in any way that he can, so ofc that extends to him letting you have him at any time and any place! that kind of devotion to your pleasure has channie written all over it~ he’d be so adorable abt it too, every time you sneak your hand under the waistband of his sweatpants out of nowhere, or grab hold of his ass and tell him to bend over, he reacts so timidly, like he doesn’t know exactly where you’re going w this. even more than the arousal he feels for what’s to come, it also just makes his heart race to know he’s wanted by you the point where you’ll take him at any time of day, sometimes multiple times a day. he’ll sit there trying his hardest not to squirm as you run your hands all over his body like you’re inspecting him to see if he’ll be of good use to you, feeling up every curve and muscle, pinching his nipples and squeezing his pecs and hips and thighs as if he’s a toy on display for you. he gets so red and stuttery, asking if he’s okay for you, promising he’ll do anything you want, whimpering so sweetly over every little way you tease his body, sometimes even yelping out when you stimulate an esp sensitive spot. he’s always so responsive and easy to fluster, that’s part of what makes it so much fun. it takes everything in him not to curl into himself and shy away from all the attention…even if he jumps and jolts and makes the most embarrassing noises, he wants to be obedient above all and let you have your way w him

he’d never forget to prep himself every day that ur free use agreement is in action! he takes it very seriously bc he just wants to make you happy, to hear you praise him for being such a good little toy, always ready to be played with <3 his stamina is also pretty good, you can ride him over and over again and he’ll keep pushing himself for you however many times you see fit, even when he’s completely spent and climaxed more times than his dizzy head can count. he’d also be more than willing to do the moving himself if you get tired and order him to satisfy you instead. he’s a natural at sevice topping, even if he doesn’t always last as long as he hopes to, he’ll let you drain every last drop of him and them some (or if you really wanna make good use of him, putting a cockring on him to keep him hard for you as long as you’d like 😽) i think his favorite thing would be when you’re reading or working or watching tv and you have him on his knees eating you out while you barely even pay attention to him. when he does manage to get an affectionate headpat or “good boy” out of you, it makes him beam with pride bc he knows that he earned it by doing well! he can’t help but let cute, happy lil noises slip out each time you do, feeding off your praises that he’s so starved for and working his mouth w even more enthusiasm no matter how tired he gets. he could stay like that for hours~

you would have to be careful though bc chan may push himself too far for you sometimes. so regular checkins to make sure he's still okay, or even sometimes deciding yourself that he can't go any further is important bc he doesn’t always do what’s best for him. you don't wanna hurt him after all ㅠ on off days, he may not ask it of you, but he needs to be spoiled rotten!! even if channie is willing to do almost anything to please you, he’s a softie at heart and loves nothing more than to be looked after in the gentlest of ways, esp after exerting himself so much for you during the week. he'd even offer to let you use him in the precious few hours he has for sleep, which you can honestly turn into an excuse to just fuck him to sleep so u can be sure he gets enough rest…tricking channie into being cared for 💗 he really gets off to the idea of being like an object of your pleasure, but his shyness interferes w that sometimes, making for the most endearing reactions ever. a meek lil “ah, wh-what are you doing?” when you pull his dick out, as if he’s not half-hard for you already. or a breathless giggle when you bring your fingers up to his plush lips in the middle of a conversation, acting sheepish for a moment before eagerly taking them into his mouth. or whining softly that it’s too embarrassing when you order him to stay shirtless for you at all times, only to get wildly turned on when he feels your eyes on him across the room. bc he’s so shy, this dynamic would definitely be limited to home and private spaces—even if the idea of you taking him in public, undressing him and wrecking him for everyone to see (maybe even joining in to use him too) makes his heart positively race. it’s more of an unattainable fantasy for him, but just having you whisper things in the middle of a scene that play into that fantasy is enough to satisfy that humiliating desire in him. esp if you mixed compliments in w it, telling him how everyone would want a chance at using his pretty body~ poor channie doesn’t have it easy being the world’s shyest exhibitionist ㅠ

hyunjin wants to completely belong to you. what thrills him the most abt free use is you having control over every little detail abt him bc he’s yours and you alone know what’s best for him, especially when it comes to his pleasure <3 on days where your dynamic is in action, he loves to let you choose what he wears, how he styles himself, even what he’s allowed to say and do (w certain limits ofc, hyune can still be a lil shy sometimes) he’s tried to obey one more than one occassion when you order him to stay completely undressed for you so you can take him at any moment, but even just walking around shirtless all day got him way too embarrassed and antsy ㅠ so he prefers you picking out his outfits for him, it feels more intimate, like a secret between you and him that he carries even when walking around in public. esp when it’s clothes that give you easy access to his body~ underwear that allows you to pull his dick out without having to remove it first, baggy sweaters that you can pull off of his torso w ease or slip your hands under to feel him up, short, dainty skirts that you can flip up to expose his underwear or unzip to make fall to his ankles when he least expects it, etc. he would absolutely wear a harness or loose shibari pattern underneath his clothes too ❤️‍🔥 he gets worked up extremely easily w you, just a few touches in the right places and he’s positively melting as if he’s the one seeking out pleasure instead of you. so needless to say, his sensitivty makes it very convenient for using him whenever the urge strikes hehe he’s always ready for you

i think hyune would fantasize a lot abt u sharing him w others, but realistically he may not actually wanna do it bc the hopeless romantic in him can't be overpowered, not even by his lust. he’s too devoted to you and he takes your relationship very seriously...we all know how he feels abt even hypothetical scenarios that involve looking at ppl other than ur partner 😭 he just wants to be your perfect doll tailored just for you. all that being said, the thought of being passed around between you and a group of others admittedly still excites him in a way he can’t explain. he may even shyly confess it to you one day so you can play into the fantasy a bit—get possessive over him, ask him why you’d ever let anyone have what belongs to you, degrade him for being such a whore that even you fucking him at all hours of the day isn’t enough to satiate him. he absolutely loves when you remind him who he belongs to. tell him that his dick is all he’s good for as you ride him until he’s cum more times than he can count, tell him that he’s molded to your shape when you peg him, tell him that he only exists for your pleasure when he gives you head. it’s intense, but it makes him absolutely crazy, he loves the possessiveness aspect of this dynamic the most. he wants to be covered w your marks at all times, all over his neck, his thighs, his stomach, his chest, like he’s a canvas for you to paint red and purple as a constant reminder that you own him. also…somnophilia 🙏 he’s already such a heavy sleeper so it makes for the perfect opportunity to incorporate it into the dynamic. when he falls asleep w that specific pair of shorts on to let u know anything goes, he’ll often wake up dazed n disoriented to find your mouth all over him, or that he’s deep inside of you just seconds away from climaxing, or with your fingers stretching him open to prepare him for your strap. and ofc his personal favorite, waking up to find his face coated w drool and juices as you grind down on it, using his perfect lips to your heart’s content. all the while, ur teasing him for being so ready to be used that he doesn’t even wake up to it, he just lies there and takes it all like he was made for <3

lix is a mix of both! he loves being of service to you, and he also just loves the idea of being owned by you. aside from physical touch, i think his favorite way to show love would be acts of service, so that makes free use right up his alley~ not to mention he seems like he’d have a pretty high sex drive…dont be fooled by his innocent looks! he’d be ready to go at any hour, even more so than hyunjin 😽 he’s like your sweet lil housecat who stays home all day looking pretty, cooking and baking, and waiting for you to give him affection whenever you see fit—sometimes, even seeking you out for it. with lixie i think on certain days he’d need to be allowed to initiate w you in this dynamic, bc he can be even more itching to go than you are and constantly wants to remind you that you can take him any time you want~ he leans into the role so naturally, you’d think he was waiting for smth like this his entire life hehe. aside from cooking and doing you lil favors, he loves to give you massages. not necessarily always in a sexual manner but they can turn that way pretty quickly. he works his little hands so well, even the most innocent touches can feel so sensual, and the satisfaction that comes from releasing all that tension in your body makes it very tempting to put your pretty boy to work in a different way. before he knows it he’s lying there w his tongue hanging out as you ride his face, pawing at your thighs like he’s continuing your massage~ he likes to wear a collar on free use days to let you know that anything goes, with a cute lil tag that says his name or smth cute like “kitty” or “plaything ♡” when you hear his bell jingling around the house, you know you’re in for a very fun day

he loves when you fuck him while he’s cooking!! it excites him like nothing else that you just have to take him right there and now, and like a good toy he has to be ready to service you. he likes it when you interrupt him when he’s in the middle of anything, honestly, it’s the most thrilling part of the dynamic to him and it makes him feel so proud when he’s able to be useful to you at any given moment, bc what you want is always more important than what he’s doing. lix would definitely be the type to wear a plug all day so he can be prepped any time you want to use him, one of those cute fluffy tail plugs to be exact. he’d be very into the catboy role 🥰 when he feels you tug on his tail w one hand as the other sneaks under his apron, his brain immediately turns to mush and he bends over the counter, not even bothering to hide his lil giggles of excitement or how he grinds back against you so eagerly, begging for you to take him. he tries his best to keep cooking for as long as he can as you’re fucking him and it’s so adorable to watch him fumble w the utensils and ingredients until eventually he’s just clawing uselessly at the counter and you have to stop him so he doesnt hurt himself and just slumps against it ): like hyune i think lix might have a fantasy of being passed around between you and a group of other ppl hehe…and unlike hyunjin he’d actually be willing to try it, as long as it’s smth you’d be into too! he’d definitely only want you to share him w your friends though, probably not strangers bc he still wants to feel a lil safe and secure abt it…he’s not quite that bold yet. the thought gets him so nervous and shy but wildly turned on at the same time, being doted on and touched and put to work by so many ppl at once would be like his own personal heaven~ he wouldn’t mind being roughed up either, as long as you guys are praising him and encouraging him the whole time for being such a good toy!! hearing all the coos and murmurs of approval as he’s being fucked senseless makes him happier than anything. it would also make him absolutely crazy if you talked abt him as if he wasn’t there through it all, just making comments amongst yourselves abt what a perfect little slut he is, how well you’ve trained him, how much he likes it when he’s filled in every possible way <3 you catch him smiling so dreamily every time your friends speak fondly of him bc he just feels so good satisfying so many ppl at once, he just wants to be useful! and he does admittedly bask in all the attention a lil bit, he can’t get enough of all the hands on him. he’s definitely the type to reach out for you and gaze straight up at you while someone else is ruining him bc he still wants to feel closest to you hehe

#sorry channie’s part is so disgustingly long it’s a fundamental flaw in me #ask #💌 channie #💌 hyunie #💌 lixie

[magiturge]

an analysis of gabriel - ultrakill

there's a lot of things about this guy i just want to talk about. let's start in an almost consecutive order of information we learn about him.

ACT I. - INFINITE HYPERDEATH 1-4 clair de lune - mansion owner's diary and stained glass art

these are the first references / appearances of gabriel in game.

the mansion owner's diary refers to him as a friend, showing that despite being an angel, gabriel had the time and the forgiveness to grant sinners / husks some form of kindness. while it can be interpreted as this particular husks devotion to being faithful to angels in general with how they hold back from plunging deeper into hell, they constantly and mainly refer to gabriel.

the other interpretation could be that when the husk is referring to gabriel, they could be using the stained glass art of him as worship and there is the possibility that gabriel has not actually interacted with them in person, however later bits of information lean more on gabriel having actually met them in person. the lust renaissance and minos

as we come up on lust, the next bit of lore that we are met with is the story of the death of king minos.

from here, we learn that gabriel has killed minos and is the reason why there is a gigantic shambling corpse looking for sinners in the lust layer. we also learn that gabriel is not just any angel but the one that embodies or represents the will of god. in the name of god's will, he is willing to kill what we later learn is a beloved ruler who granted the sinners in lust a more forgiving place to spend eternity. in p-1, we are met with the flesh prison that ensnares minos' soul, created in an effort to prevent it from forming into a prime soul. a segment of his monologue from when he is released from the flesh prison : "O Gabriel... now dawns thy reckoning, and thy gore shall glisten before the temples of man!" it's quite clear from that that minos no longer remains a pacifist when it comes to taking revenge on the angel who pulled everything out from under him. now, to minos prime's terminal entry. it gives more context onto the overall lore of ultrakill itself but does contain information that is important later on. pictures of the terminal entries will come from the wiki page due to the in game terminal entries not fitting into one screen.

we learn that god has disappeared and due to this has thrown heaven into a panicked frenzy. this is important given that gabriel is an angel and how the disappearance of what would be described as his leader or figurehead to follow would do to him.

in the disappearance of god, a council has taken control of heaven and in the event of this, they have seen that minos has freed sinners from the punishment they were meant to serve. gabriel is sent to strike down minos and murdered him without listening to what minos had to say. we see just how deep rooted gabriel's faith in god is and how he answers to the council. he has killed a beloved ruler without mercy and from the text written from the perspective of a lust resident, he believes what he is doing is just.

3-2 in the flesh we now actually meet gabriel in the flesh after everything we have learned so far. as v1 leaves the first room, gabriel speaks. "Machine... turn back, now. The layers of this palace are not for your kind. Turn back, or you will be crossing the will of God." while he sounds as prideful as an angel would be, with a holier than thou tone of voice, the context of what he is saying is important combined with how he actually views v1 at this point. gabriel is warning v1 to go no further and to turn back while it still has the chance which is quite odd in the grand scheme of his actions. "a mere object." "an imperfection to be cleansed." not. even. mortal." "you are less than nothing." these are a portion of taunts that quite clearly display how he feels about v1, a machine. v1 is simply an object to him, plunging deeper into hell. in addition to this, hakita in the developer commentary stream states : "Gabriel is like, as soon as a machine gets too far downwards, he will like interrupt them and kill them. So to him, you are just one of like a hundred or thousand of whatever machines that he's encountered and tried to stop." despite this, gabriel grants the mercy of warning v1, giving them a chance to go back as they shouldn't be down here. it's a curious thing about gabriel, isn't it? up to this point, we know of gabriel striking down a beloved king but here he is merciful enough to warn what he sees as something that is not even mortal, a mere object. and seeing that v1 at this moment is nothing more than another machine to him, would it be odd to assume he had warned other like this as well? while not immediately important to this analysis, the eye in the arena focuses on gabriel. hakita in the developer commentary stream states that : "The eyes normally follow you, like they look at you when you're walking around but in this arena it's actually looking at Gabriel because he's the real point of interest."

this is more something that will be important to the lore regarding hell itself rather than gabriel himself, given it would be reasonable for hell to be more interested in a supreme angel than you, another machine.

moving on, we have gabriel's overall presentation and impression on us. he presents himself as holy, righteous, better than you. he at this point is unlikeable, we only know the sour side of him. when he loses to v1, he is bewildered by his loss, unable to believe he had just lost to what he sees as just an object. he's clearly angry with v1 and possibly, himself. before we go over the end of ACT I's story segment, we will go over what else we have learned from gabriel provided by the first terminal entry we recieve of him.

from here we learn his proper status up in heaven, a respected and feared archangel. he has a reputation of completing tasks quickly and that he is beloved among other angels moreso than the council.

it's also put that he has popular for his "radiant personality and active nature" which depending one what you prefer, could either be how he presents himself to you in 3-2 or different demeanor we have yet to see.

i’m inclined to believe the latter and we will get to that later, so keep that in mind.

we also learn that gabriel is a hardworker, a devoted angel to god that completes what is asked of him. this can be used as reference to how he has slain king minos prior as it seemed to be more of a task to complete rather than a personal attack fueled by his own emotions.

he’s a hard worker that did not question what was asked of himas long as he had it in his mind that his actions were to benefit someone he cared about, be it the people of heaven or god.

the strategy tips that the terminal tells us that gabriel is an angel with a great deal of pride stating that his pride is what “stops him from attacking while taunting his opponent”. on top of this, his pride not only prevented him from attacking during taunts but from also using splendor is justice and justice is splendor in this fight as well. this is, again, important for later since how his behavior in 3-2 differs vastly from his behavior in ACT II. closing in on this segment, we end with gabriel's disbelief at his loss. "What? How can this be? Bested by this.. this thing? You insignificant FUCK! This is not over!" with the use of profanity, gabriel's front as a divine angel falls apart. his composure is lost and he is utterly confused, perfectly portrayed by his voice actor gianni matragano. everything that he has believed has been shattered here, as hakita explains in the developer commentary stream that a machine besting an angel is something that should be impossible. an angel being beaten by a human is absurd but for a child of mankind to best an angel is like that of an ant beating a human in a fight. it just does not make sense to gabriel and unfortunately, his account of his loss does not serve a stable argument to the holy council. ACT I. - INTERMISSION ( the ending cutscene is linked here as it is incredibly long. ) remember that gabriel is on of the brightest angels in heaven if not the brightest angel who works quickly, efficiently and is a beloved angel among the others? that status does not protect him here. we open in on gabriel being looked at with resentment by the council, speaking amongst one another on what to do with him. gabriel is listening to their bitter words, that sting being something that would cause more pain to ones not as strong as him. it continues in describing how gabriel believes that it is also impossible for a mere object to best him, he believes that he knows this as true. and it is not. so he rises to make an argument for himself, stating that he would never stray from the will of the father but a machine has bested him in battle. in this moment, i believe it is gabriel's attempt to warn the council that these "mere objects" are something not to take lightly. but they don't listen to him. now there is a very important line here that is often overlooked and in the video i have linked referring to this line is different which is most likely why it is overlooked or misinterpreted. "your failure will not be tolerated" was changed to "your treachery will not be tolerated." as seen here :

the council cannot grasp that an angel could have lost to a machine. so instead, they have concluded that gabriel has betrayed them and purposefully let it go further down. throughout this interaction between gabriel and the council, he is spoken over, not given a chance to properly explain himself or the situation at hand. his pleas were not heard and he is seen as a traitor, now to die within 24 hours with the time quickly dissolving. what could the severing of his holy light, the title of a traitor hanging over his head and the potential fear that the machines that were supposed to be beneath him do to his mental state at this point of the story? well, that is where this comes in.. ACT II. - IMPERFECT HATRED to recap what i've run through, we know that : • gabriel is one of heaven's brightest angels, a hard worker that is well loved and also feared by many as well as being quite skilled in combat. • he has killed the former judge of hell, a beloved king who believed that eternal torment for loving one another was too cruel a punishment, as ordered by the council. • at the moment, he's on a clock, the holy light having been severed from his body and he is seething with a supposed hatred to rid of you and to prove himself faithful to god.

4-1 slaves to power now this part comes from the terminal entry of the virtue that is first introduced in this level.

we learn about how lesser angels form as well as more information on how heaven itself works with a social hierarchy. we also learn how they relate in terms of being another angelic being in hell, next to gabriel. their role is to put the sinners who are not acting out their punishment in their place "in order to not waste gabriel's time with minor offences and fluctuations." so gabriel's role in hell generally does not include small offences like this, he works on a grander scale which we will see a bit later. 4-2 god damn the sun another terminal entry from a mini-boss introduced in this level, the sisyphean insurrectionist.

another act of pushing against heaven's control is met with death, a contrast to minos's pacifist approach. gabriel has killed another king in hell, king sisyphus as well as a fleet of other angels to aid him in this war. the details of gabriel and the angels actions show the brutality in their force, the response that rebellion is met with. it seems that gabriel was made responsible for these two deaths which implies that prior to being judge of hell, he had some role that was somewhat related to it since he's the one higher angel that is sent down for these tasks. i also have a creeping feeling that gabriel has had a larger presence in hell as well given there are murals of him seen in.. 4-3 a shot in the dark and 4-4 clair de soleil

these murals are a bit of a curious thing to explain since we don't have an exact time frame of when they were created or who created them. the first instance of them is seen in 4-3 a shot in the dark where it is smeared with blood painted in the word "traitor". it implies that at some point in the past, gabriel was much more tolerant or even a friendlier figure that had turned on them, be it during the war or sometime prior.

the next instance would be in 4-4 clair de soleil in which the two other murals are hidden within the tomb of sisyphus's corpse. perhaps they were erected as a show of power by the angels given their placement here next to his body. or it could simply be a curious room for the sawblade update, however i don't believe that that is all it is. some time in hell's history, gabriel was a friend yet he soon became a traitor. 5-2 waves of the starless sea now here is where we see what exactly gabriel values and is often where people's opinions on gabriel change a bit as we see more of his nature outside of bloodshed and arrogant behavior. the ferrymen we find the ferryman's cabin, empty save for the filth that spawns in alongside the idol present on the second floor. the ferryman's diary is found on the desk.

here is an excerpt from the ferryman's diary, the full passage found here as it is too long to be fit into a single picture. the diary details a time in which one of the ferrymen was going to sink deep under the waves of the now ocean styx as mankinds ultimate death led to the river overflowing.

yet instead of falling victim to the waves, this particular ferryman is saved by gabriel, who comforts them as they are ushered to safety. "Be not afraid, sinner. Your devotion to God shows goodness in you; plentiful indeed. The heart is willing but the body must rest, lest you squander one of the Lord's creations."

gabriel tells the ferryman that he recognizes their faith and devotion to god, seeing that despite their forms as husks in hell they are good people. he cares about the ferrymen's efforts to gain passage into heaven and does not let them sink deep into the ocean where that goodness will be wasted. he does not want for them to work themselves to death, to allow the hopelessness of hell to consume them. he doesn't want that. gabriel became a symbol of hope and light to the ferrymen. a statue of him can be found within the level as well. he continues to be their light as evident by the ending words of the ferryman's diary. in addition to this is the ferryman's theme, he is the light in my darkness which is coupled with artwork of gabriel and the ferryman drawn by francisxie.

another bit of information that pertains to gabriel is a segment from the ferryman's terminal data, where it is stated that gabriel is the only one who cares about their efforts.

what gabriel values is seen very clearly : he seeks those who truly care about god and those who are working to improve themselves to be granted passage into heaven. more evidence supports this with the introduction of.. the idols idols are actually demons that were carved into a form that can be mistaken as divine by those who don't know any better. their terminal entry states that having been in close proximity to the ferryman's holy cloth has allowed for the holy power within it to seep into them, allowing the chain of compassion to continue.

an important bit of information introduced here is that the only angel of heaven's higher order that watches over hell is gabriel. if the council were to find out about the existence of idols and what the ferrymen have done to them, they would be ordered to be destroyed. it implies that gabriel can see that the idols are not actually peversions of the divine form but can see that they are actually tributes to him and the angels that the ferrymen are devoted to. there is a stark difference in the way gabriel behaves when ordered by the council and when acting on his own judgement and accord. he really cares about the intentions of those he gives the time of day to pay attention to when it is his choice. in the instances of most of gabriel's crimes, it is an order from the council that he acts on. 5-3 ship of fools there isn't quite a lot of lore pertaining to gabriel here other than showing just how important gabriel is to the ferrymen with a statue of him seen inside of the ship, a hologram of him warm words playing on loop and a portrait of him seen in one of the first rooms of this level.

he is clearly incredibly important to them with these tributes to him found across the ferry.

5-4 leviathan here we find an instance of gabriel striking down the heart of the leviathan as the souls attempt to escape its body.

this is an act he chooses to do or an act ordered by the council where i feel it is one where gabriel is doing what he believes his role as the judge of hell asks of him.

we don't know what would have resulted in the souls being let free but judging based on what we know of him now, i assume that this act was done as a means to prevent the souls from being let free and so that they serve their punishment accordingly.

6-1 cry for the weeper we are met again with gabriel speaking to us.

"Machine, I know you're here. I can smell the insolent stench of your bloodstained hands. I await you down below. . . COME TO ME"

it doesn't take me explaining for it to be apparent that gabriel is furious.

he fully expects for v1 to plunge down deeper and to cross paths with him once again. he is waiting and he is livid. 6-2 aesthetics of hate

i'm pulling out all the stops and you're about to see why. the final level in ACT II in which we finally fight gabriel once again, but before that, we are met with gabriel speaking to both himself and to you. "Limbo. Lust. All gone. . . With Gluttony soon to follow. Your kind know nothing but hunger. Purged all life on the upper layers. And yet they remain unsatiated. . . As do you. You've taken everything from me, machine. And now all that remains is PERFECT, HATRED." we learn of what has been happening to hell itself as both v1 and other machines devastate what of it remains. gabriel tells us that we have taken everything from him, that the only thing he has left is the boiling anger and hate that he holds for us. to watch everything he's worked for crumble at the loss against a machine has left him in such a tense, angry and anguished state.

the presentation for this fight is beautifully done, perfectly encompassing the atmosphere needed to capture the tidal wave of emotions that are about to break through. this is gabriel's only attempt at redeeming himself in the eyes of the council, to prove himself not a traitor and that he has always been faithful to the father's will. "Machine, I will cut you down. Break you apart. Splay the gore of your profane form across the stars. I will grind you down until the very sparks cry for mercy. My hands shall RELISH ending you. HERE. AND. NOW." and so the dam breaks. gabriel has said what he swears to do to you, the venom in his words clear as day. an immediate difference in this fight is the use of his twin swords splendor is justice and justice is splendor as well as an immediate enraged state.

something of note is the use of those swords as it's stated here that pride stopped him from using them in the previous fight but things have become more personal. this is not the only time he has unsheathed his swords as he has used them in the war against sisyphus. an excerpt from sisyphus prime's terminal entry states : "He unsheathed his swords for the first time since time immemorial and beheaded Sisyphus, displaying his head for all to see." keep that in mind for later, it's important.

his movements are quicker and he hits much harder, the track the death of god's will playing as the fight continues.

in the first phase where he's enraged, his anger is palpable in his taunts : • you need. more. power! • is this what i lost to? • you're getting rusty machine! • i'll show you divine justice!

just to name a few. he's egging you on, to fight him. perhaps, in a way he doesn't want you to go easy on him, to purposefully let him win as it would be more than insulting. the arena is like that of the rest of heresy, dark murky and bathed in a red fog with water (or blood) filling the main part of it. that changes upon his phase change along with his behavior as well. "IS THAT THE BEST YOU'VE GOT!?"

this is something that is sometimes passed over since people are mostly focused on either dealing damage to gabriel, focused on where he is or staying away from him as they're unsure what to do. the lights of the arena are influenced by his phase change and his emotions. no longer is it bathed in red but in the beautiful blue and gold that represent his ecstasy and joy of struggle. his own brilliant light illuminating the arena. it could be said that gabriel's rage is the reason why heresy is a crimson red however i don't believe that's the case. i believe that gabriel's own light in this moment is so bright, so radiant that it's enough to light up the fight and overpower the dense crimson fog of heresy. his wings also change to match the gold and blue, as shown here to be labeled as ecstasy. in phase 2, gabriel is having fun, he's enjoying the struggle of a fight in which victory does not come to him so easily and it can be heard in the taunts that he switches to in this fight : • show me what you were made for! • come on machine, fight me like an animal! • come get some blood! • i'll show you true splendor! again, just to name a few. alongside some of these taunts, gabriel laughs. curiously, there is an unused taunt in which gabriel states "So this is what you see in bloodshed." you'll notice i boldened "i'll show you divine justice!" and "i'll show you true splendor!" call it a stretch but i feel like the specification on justice and splendor with each one being used for the phase 1 and phase 2 respectively is like the duality of his emotions and who he is, much like his twin swords. at first he seeks justice for himself and what he has lost to v1 but further in the fight, he relishes in the struggle of meeting someone that is equal to him if not better. the behavioral differences in his fighting are like that of his fight in 3-2 in the flesh in which he will mix up his attacks with a teleport in between. i interpret gabriel becoming more difficult in phase 2 is due to him truly enjoying himself, with a more clear mind that isn't filled to the brim with anger that has boiled over. he's having fun, he's struggling and he loves it. finally, we come to the end of the fight in which gabriel exclaims to himself ..

"Twice? Beaten by an object.. twice! I've only known the taste of victory, but this taste... Is- Is this my blood? Haha- I've never known such... such... relief? I-I need some time to think.. . We will meet again, machine." it's an interesting bit of dialogue, subverting most people's expectations. instead of gabriel descending into further madness, a spiral of emotions consuming him, this defeat gives him pause.

he's relieved at the sight of his own blood. why is that? there's a multitude of answers to this but i believe the reason why he's relieved at the sight of his own blood is that it's like a weight off of his shoulders, his conscious. angels bleed. the righteous hand of the father bleeds. his status as a supreme angel does not prevent him from being put in harms way and his blood is just about the same as any other being. whatever he is does not make him special. he bleeds just like anyone else and no status could ever protect him from that, only himself. his words here are also curious. while his previous defeat speech is filled with anger and confusion vowing that this battle is not over, in this speech gabriel states that they will meet again. it's less of a threat, a vow for revenge and more like coming back to v1 to speak with them further despite how one-sided this conversation may be. there's also a very apparent difference in the way that gabriel says "May your woes be many and your days few." the first one is threatening much like his defeat speech but this one? it's lighter, lower, less angry. he even chuckles slightly as he says it, possibly finding that the phrase is ridiculous to say when looking at the position that he's in. afterall, he doesn't even have a day left and perhaps even less than that should v1 finish him off before the holy light vanishes. just like that, he vanishes in a pillar of light.

his terminal data that comes with this encounter explains all of this clearly, he found something he wanted to do for himself. free will for an angel. ACT II. - INTERMISSION.

we're almost at the end. the ending cutscene opens to gabriel having teleported away to what we can assume is the first layer of heaven, the moon, as he gazes into a fire alone with his thoughts and revelations. the text that fills the screen describing gabriel's thoughts are filled with confusion, introspection and guilt. he realizes that his actions were not something that was always just, always right, finding that he not only embodied a holy figure to follow but also the cruelty that his actions left in his wake. his two defeats has turned his world view upside down, leaving him to try and piece together everything he believed he knew only to find that it never made sense to begin with.

gabriel realizes that the council he answers to masquerades god's name, intentionally or not, having their supposed fellow angels in a vice grip of fear. the angels still do what they believe is what god wants of them but they have not accepted that he has long since gone. believing is not enough, and he knows this now. this is a choice he makes with his own new found free will and he chose to do something drastic.

slaughtering the council, the group of angels that have brought a facade of stability to heaven. "The last councilor, now backed up to a wall, scrambles for words between panicked breaths as death approaches with measured steps." gabriel is calm, confident in his decision with contrasts with the behavior of the councilor that writhes in fear of his fate. he knows what he is doing as its a decision he made his own.

he speaks clearly, shutting down the argument that the last councilor has to offer. ". ..Our status forbids it! . .. We are the supreme authority, our law commands you!" interesting is it? that the council pleads with their status, their only "protection" of their life when gabriel's place as the will of god did not protect him at all, only his supposed prior betrayal representing who he was. and so he tells it to them, that their words hold no power over him. he has realized that the council dances around the father's name as a means to keep power and control over the other angels, their only defense in the face of danger is their fragile words. and so gabriel states that he will show his fellow angels that there is nothing to be afraid of for the council's reign will no longer hang over them. he says it flatly, that god is dead. the last thing that this councilor has to say to plead for his life is that he is the only way for gabriel to reconnect with the holy light, ultimately preventing him from dying. and all gabriel has to say, is that "i know." it's an interesting choice he's made since he ultimately could have forced the councilor to reconnect him, saving his life and then kill him. he could have taken that chance to rebuild heaven into a more peaceful place for the angels, afterall he is loved more than the council and it seems other angels would find more joy and peace in him as their leader. but he doesn't do that. he accepts his fate. he made that choice. the weight of his sins, his atrocities committed in the name of god and the guilt that comes with it. do you think he could have lived to bare those anymore, knowing that he was the cause for so much suffering? there was no going back from that, he had already done so much harm.

what could he have done to fix that? minos is dead and even if his prime soul lives on, there is nothing left as his failure to stop v1 has led to the disappearances of the upper layers of hell.

sisyphus is dead and just like minos, even if his prime soul lives on, the damage has been done. the sisyphean insurrectionists left with only the essential body parts to carry out their punishment, they will never know the peace that they had worked so hard for. what would gabriel remaining alive do to benefit anyone? to him, perhaps nothing. he failed to see through the wool pulled over his eyes and because of it, so much was lost. there is one thing left that he can do.

and that is to show the angels of heaven that there is nothing to be afraid of. you'll probably notice that his wings are like that of his phase 2 in 6-2 aesthetics of hate. i believe this is gabriel relishing in knowing that the people of heaven will see his last message, the wordless proclamation of their freedom. and even if death approaches him, he has done something that he has wanted for himself and for the rest of heaven. SO WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS MEAN? gabriel is a character whom we see the various sides to, the various faces that he shows to people in this story. you pick up the pieces to who he is, having experienced who he is face to face twice now and seeing him unravel. this story is about him and you, v1, the catalyst. he's someone often watered down an angel too in over his head that has the sense knocked into him, which isn't too far off when there is absolutely so much more to him. he's a kind, patient angel who is capable of committing atrocities and has done so under the belief that his actions benefit something, somebody he values or follows. gabriel believes in righting his wrongs, bringing justice in which things are even, balance, proper and when he finds that he was part of the problem, he willingly gives his life as it is trickling away to fix it. of course, he is still an angel, a prideful one that isn't innocent. he's guilty of so much but he ultimately seeks to make things better for those he believes are worthy of happiness, peace. he himself has numbed to the joys of struggle as reward comes easy to him, realizing that being met with a force that matches his own is exhilirating. that the ability to choose his own fate, make his own decisions instead of blindly following the council just as any other angel has made much more of a positive change than anything he's ever done. he's going to fade soon and he knows it. in other words, i think gabriel is pretty cool guys. EXTRA okay now here comes my little crazy shpeal when it comes to gabriel's motif of beheading. in the war against sisyphus, gabriel beheaded him as a means to break the morale of his army and in the end of ACT II he beheads the council member and presents the head to the crowd of angels to dissuade fear. alongside that is imagery of gabriel himself being beheaded which are found in 5-3 ship of fools.

both of these can be found when the ferry is flipped upside down and filled with water. it's just something interesting i noticed :] next, there's this little thought i had in which gabriel has become more "human" as the story progresses. in the testaments presented at the end of each secret level, we find that what we can assume is god refers to humans as a failure, their free will consuming them and causing things to grow closer to entropy. now what exactly does that mean for gabriel? well : his time is limited. he is mortal. he will die. he has gained his own free will, even in his dying moments, he chose to make a difference. even as the councilor scrambles for words, stating that their law commands him, it mirrors the first testament presented to us in the game in which it states : "mankind is a failure. free will is a flaw. let the evil of their lips consume them. then i shall begin again with my word as law." with each push, each struggle, gabriel grows more human than angel. now, finally. there is his motif of radiance and light and somebody else has written it more perfectly than i ever could and you can find it right here! please give it a read, it is what inspired me to go on this little analysis of gabriel.

anyway, that's all. just a little something. feel free to add your thoughts, i would love to read them and do correct me if there's something wrong.

#ultrakill #ultrakill spoilers #gabriel ultrakill #v1 ultrakill #minos prime #king minos #ultrakill analysis #ferryman ultrakill #character analysis #character deconstruction #spoilers #new blood #gabriel #v1 #please enjoy.

[blackjackkent]

Owlbear Vignettes

At first, Buddy sticks very close to Hector in camp. Hector was the one who fed him first. Hector is kind, with a soft voice. Hector gives him scritches between the ears and murmurs blessings Buddy doesn't understand. Hector is not Mother, but Hector is safe.

The others take some getting used to.

-----

Karlach is not expecting it, the first night Buddy tries to sleep in the tent with them. She's half-asleep and at first only dimly aware of claws jabbing through her clothes, which meld unpleasantly with a dream of stinging sparks in the Hells. Her eyes flicker open - and then she jumps as she comes face to face with an owlbear beak. Buddy has nestled himself between her and Hector, curled into a floofed-up ball.

"Aw, hells. Hec--" she says sleepily.

"Mmph?" Hector answers. "Wha-- ack!" There's a sudden sputtering noise as he rolls over into a faceful of feathers.

"That."

She hears Hector laugh softly in the darkness. "Buddy, you can't sleep there." He nudges at the cub's flank; Buddy makes a soft noise of objection. "Come on, Bud."

Buddy gives a chirping whine but allows himself to be displaced so Hector can snuggle in against Karlach again. The cub considers the situation for a moment, then flops deliberately on Hector's other side, staring at Karlach the whole time as if daring her to say anything about it.

"I think I have competition," she tells Hector with a grin.

"You're way prettier than he is, don't worry," Hector mumbles into her shoulder.

-----

Gale makes a picture of a woman, but she has no smell. Buddy doesn't like that. It seems wrong.

Wyll emerges from his tent to the sound of Waterdhavian-accented oration at full volume.

"That is the goddess of magic, Buddy. That is Mystra herself!" Gale is lecturing the little beast, poking a finger into Buddy's face. "You cannot simply swipe a claw through her as if she were a mouse you'd caught unawares. That is a disrespect of the highest order and I would have thought you smart enough to know better."

Buddy listens attentively, his head cocked over to one side, occasionally chirping whenever Gale pauses for breath.

"I understand that you are an owlbear and therefore not privy to the mysteries of the Weave," the mage goes on. "But that does not exempt you from a certain level of basic decency towards the divine. I will thank you to remember this in future and improve your decorum."

Wyll grins, folding his arms as he watches this little display unfold. "Do you want to try it again with an animal speaking potion?"

Gale sighs. "No, no, never mind. He's just a beast after all, he can't really be expected to understand."

"I don't know," Wyll says mildly. "Perhaps he has the right of it. A protective instinct, if you will, given the target does want you to blow yourself up. I think he's not the only one in camp who would give her a swipe if they could."

"I'll thank you to keep your disrespect to yourself as well," Gale says dryly. His fingers flick through the air, conjuring a new, glowing image of his goddess.

Buddy swats a paw through her again at once.

-----

The githyanki is sharp like Mother's claws. She snaps when Buddy comes close, sniffs disdainfully when he scarfs down some of the camp supplies. He steers clear and watches her from a distance.

He understands how this works. She is one of the alphas. She must be brought a gift before she will accept him in the flock.

One night, Hector watches with bemusement as the cub, his whole expression screwed up with deep owlbear concentration, drags a large dead rabbit through the camp.

Catching Hector's gaze, he drops the rabbit and chirps softly, wandering in a slow circle around his prize. His feathers fluff up in a deliberate attempt to make himself look bigger, as if to steel himself for a great challenge. Then he grabs the rabbit again by the head, and in a single smooth motion, drags it into the tent where Lae'zel is currently sleeping.

There is a brief moment of silence, followed by a yell that echoes through the whole camp. Buddy, still poofed out in all directions, comes sailing through the tent flap, tumbling end over end and hitting the ground some distance away. The dead rabbit follows closely thereafter.

The next morning, Lae'zel acts as if nothing happens, but Hector does note with some surprise that she gives Buddy an absent pat on the head every time she walks past him. Later, she offers him a torn off scrap of the hunk of jerky she grabs for her evening meal.

"You're not holding his midnight visit against him, then?" Hector asks her.

"On the contrary," she says gravely. "The creature offered tribute to me as its jhe'stil, and showed bravery in doing so. It has earned the respect due a beast of combat."

"But you threw him out of the tent!"

She looks at him unblinkingly. "Yes."

Hector considers trying to understand this, and then decides not to bother.

-----

Shadowheart rarely comes close at first to either Buddy or Scratch. She is wary of them as beasts of the forest. Scratch says she is afraid of wolves. Buddy is NOT a wolf - but he is almost as big as one, so he thinks maybe it makes sense.

She often looks at him like she would like to pet him, though. A few times, she does drift near, and lays her hand gently between his ears on the soft feathers at the nape of his neck. And he sees a little smile tug at her lips - but then there is a flash of magic around her hand, and she winces or cries out in pain and draws away.

Many weeks on, deep in the Shadowlands, there is a great commotion one night - an explosion of light and crashing and roaring in the distance. Buddy watches with great interest, and some concern, as Hector returns to the camp with Karlach and Wyll, all of them covered in blood and slime. Shadowheart, equally battered, follows behind them at a distance, her eyes hollow and her face even paler than usual.

Buddy finds her in her tent later, staring at the wall in the darkness. He sits in the tent flap and chirps questioningly.

"No. Go away," she mutters. "I can't--"

She falls silent. He chirps again, scoots a little closer to her.

"It hurt so much..." she whispers. "All this time, all that pain... for a lie..."

She gives a sudden hoarse, humorless laugh. "There was never any wolf. D'you know that? There was never any wolf at all."

He gives a soft, whickering sort of noise and nudges his head cautiously against her hand. There is no flash of magic, no cry of pain. He does it again. Her fingers fist suddenly into his feathers, pulling him towards her.

He squawks, alarmed, then relaxes as she presses her face into the soft down of his back and sobs.

-----

Late one night, Astarion tracks a deer through the woods. They're difficulty prey, jumpy and skittish, but his steps are light, an almost inaudible tread. And they have quite a lot of blood in them. The hunger gnaws at his stomach and his red eyes gleam in the moonlight.

Just a little closer...

His boot knocks against an ill-placed stone, barely a rustle of sound but enough. The deer lifts its head and gives a keening cry, and bolts.

"Oh-- damn it," he mutters, straightening out of his crouched position. His fingers flex with undirected frustration and he leans heavily against a nearby tree. "Damn, damn, damn." What a feast that would have been... the local squirrel population has been decent, but deer is something else entirely. One of his favorites, second only to the kobolds and, of course, the one pure draught he got from Hector's throat...

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an animal squealing in abject pain, a ripping, tearing noise of wet meat - and then a soft chirp. He looks down, puzzled.

Buddy is sitting looking up at him with bright, wide eyes. His beak is coated in blood, and he bounces in an excited circle around Astarion's feet before guiding him through the foliage nearby. The deer sits sprawled on the mossy ground, its head bent at an odd angle.

"Huh." Astarion raises his eyebrows, examining the gory tableau. His stomach growls audibly at the glinting shine of wet blood at the deer's throat. "Not badly done. I didn't think I was in the market for a hunting partner, but perhaps we should work together more often."

Buddy wiggles all over with excitement and butts his head against Astarion's leg.

"Yes, yes, you're very cute. Now stay out of the way and let me drain this thing before you start looking tasty as well."

-------

"No!" Minsc bellows, looking down at the cub imperiously. "You will stand aside, beast; though your talons be very sharp and your beak to match, Minsc will bear each scratch before you shall lay one claw upon Boo!"

Buddy cowers back, his eyes very wide and all his feathers standing up, as the berserker towers over him. Boo sits atop Minsc's head and squeaks angrily down at the cub from his perch.

"Minsc!" Jaheira steps in between them, raising one hand before Minsc can speak again. "Calm yourself. I heard you all the way across the camp. What is the matter?"

"Minsc woke to find the little feather-beast eyeing Boo with the hungriest of eyes," Minsc says fiercely. "Does he think Boo a little snack to be feasted upon?!"

"No doubt," Jaheira says calmly, struggling not to smile; Minsc is obviously incensed, and yet there is something comical in seeing him stare down the little round ball of feathers with such ferocity. "For he is a beast of nature; why should he know otherwise?"

"Well, he shall not have him!"

"Peace." Jaheira crouches next to the owlbear, murmurs a spell under her breath; green light flares around her body. "Do you hear me, cub?" she murmurs.

Buddy goes very still; his feathers flatten out and he stares at her with wide eyes. "You... speak?" he whispers.

"With all the wisdom that nature gave me." She smiles, reaches out to scratch him under the chin. "You must leave the hamster alone. For he is Minsc's to protect, as you are Hector's."

The cub chirrups skeptically. "Rat. Tasty," he points out.

"There is no shortage of rats in the city," Jaheira says dryly. "We shall find you other meat. But you must promise to leave Boo in safety."

Buddy makes a soft grumbling noise. "All right. Promise," he mumbles.

Jaheira looks up at Minsc, her eyes glinting with amusement. "The bargain is made," she says soberly.

"Ah." Minsc brightens up at once and grins. "Good. Minsc did not want to kick such a little, cute butt, if there was any helping it."

Buddy trots along at Jaheira's side as she walks away; his sharp little eyes peer up at her excitedly. "You speak. New Mother?" he asks hopefully.

"Gods. No," Jaheira sputters. "I am no more your mother than I am Minsc's Wychlaran; where does everyone get these ideas?"

Buddy's ears turn down. "Just hoped."

She pauses, then smiles faintly. "I may not be your mother, cub, but I think you have a whole camp full of family. As creatures of the wilderness go, you have it made."

-----

Withers examines the cub closely as it creeps around the edge of the camp, watching him from the shadows. "I offer no threat to thee, little beast," the skeleton intones gravely. "Thou hast no need of secrecy."

Buddy chirps. Emerging from the shadows, he sits at Withers' feet, looking up at him.

Withers' expression does not shift. "Indeed," he murmurs. "A creature without mooring. Untethered and yet bound. A matter of luck... or of fate."

Buddy tips his head slowly to one side.

"Thou art a pillar, upon which is built the lever which shall move the world." The faintest hint of a smile twists the skeleton's lips. "And yet thou knowest it not. This is as it should be. By such truths does all remain in balance."

#bjk plays baldur's gate 3 #hector carlisle #owlbear cub #karlach #wyll ravengard #gale of waterdeep #lae'zel #shadowheart #astarion #bg3 drabble #bg3 fic #minsc #jaheira #withers #idk how good this is but i had a lot of fun writing it XD #drabble

[aphroditestempleimagines]

Out of a fairytale (18+) - part 1

Pairing: Edgar Allan Poe x fem!reader

Colour: Sweet and romantic

Warnings: fluff, romantic sex, vaginal sex, fingering, oral (fem and male receiving) + 69, language, nipple play, orgasm delay (implied), outdoor sex, thigh riding, come swallowing, kissing, handjob, cold play, a bit of food, established relationship

Words: idk like 2000 and smth

Summary: You receive a curious present for your birthday; the peculiar book arrived in the mail first thing in the morning. When you open it, you are transported to a fairytale-like castle where your lover has scripted every detail to perfection.

Part 1 ~ Royalcore version 《

Part 2 ~ Gothic Version

The knock on the door caught you by surprise. Your heart fluttered at the thought of your lover’s image standing outside your house. Alas, your excitement was for nought, as all you gazed upon was a scruffy delivery man. 

“Sign here”, he said after handing you a rectangular package. He held a receiver form in one hand, pen under thumb, and texted on his phone with the other.

“I didn’t order anything”, you objected.

“Is that your name and address?”, he said without taking his eyes from his phone.

“eh...y-yes?”

“Then sign here”, he pushed the form towards you once again.

With your birthday being just the day before you paid no more thought to the package’s origins. A lot of your friends were abroad and you were used to receiving presents from them by mail. It was only that...he was away as well.

Your pen pondered on the paper amidst signing your name. For the first time since you were seeing each other, Poe had to leave your home in Japan to return to America. On top of that, his work meant that he would not be allowed to see you on your birthday. He had called you early in the morning the day before to shower you with sweet words. But it was not the same. You took the package into your arms to compensate for the loss of your lover. It was not enough either. 

You thanked the delivery man and retrieted into your home. The package was not particularly lightweight yet not really heavy either. As you peeled the brown wrapper you confirmed rather than realised that it was a book. Its white hard cover was beautifully bound with a rose ribbon bookmark hanging from the top, and the title “The Princess and the Poet” displayed in golden letters at the front. There was no writer listed on the cover. One would have thought after a year together you would had automatically guessed who it was from. But in the early morning daze that clouded your brain, all you could think of doing is open the book to check inside. 

“ This is the tale of two lovers, who loved with a love that was more than love. The poet and his princess. With a love that the winged seraphs of Heaven coveted her and him.”

Even as you read those first words your body was surrounded by a golden cloud of words, a cloud which shrouded your entire room and transported you somewhere new. Suddenly, you were standing in the middle of an internal garden. Your simple pajamas were replaced by an elegant pastel gown. Your heels clicked on the rose marble floor as you approached the Sakura tree in the middle. The small rosey petals were carried by a wind of unknown origin throughout the room. The small skylight at the crown of the dome let the light of the sunset seep into the ballroom, painting it in shades of soft orange and red. It did not take you long now to realise what had happened.

"I'm so glad you came", a familiar voice said behind you.

You turned around to see your lover standing at the entrance of the room. He wore a white and grey prince's uniform with a long one-shoulder creme cape. His hair was pulled back at one side exposing one of his eyes. He extended his hand towards you and gave you a regal bow. Even from that distance, you could see his cheeks and ears grow red as he did his best to act like the character he had created.

"Ed!", you beamed and ran towards him. You threw your arms around his shoulders and buried your face in his hair. The familiar scent of cologne, ink, and jasmine that surrounded you convinced you of his existence.

He wrapped his arms around you as well. You felt his hand behind your head as he buried his face in your shoulder. "I'm sorry I missed it", he said in sorrow, "I thought I had calculated the times perfectly"

"It's okay", you squeezed him in your arms, "At least now you're here now."

He lifted your head by the cheek and chased the draught away from your lips with a long-awaited sweet kiss. "I made two copies of the book I sent you", he said, "So no matter the distance, we can always meet here"

"Shouldn't there be a murder here?", you asked, "Isn't that how your ability works?"

He smiled. "I don't need a murder", he said, "Just a mystery". His arm held you close by the waist while he guided you through the ballroom to a white and golden door. It opened as the two of you approached to reveal a beautiful garden of roses surrounding a white marble gazebo. The sweet smell of the flowers accompanied you as you walked down the stone-paved path. He retrieved his hand from your waist as you reached the small building. He let you take his hand as you climbed the steps. Under the gazebo's dome, Edgar had scripted a luxurious set of pillows and sheets and mattresses, next to a plethora of the sweetest delicacies. He supported you as you took a seat before resting at your side.

"I brought us right to the ending", he said, "As the writer, I know it would be much more interesting for the two of us"

"I'm sure", you smiled and placed your hand over his, "I missed you"

He looked at you with those puppy dog eyes, as if he could not believe the words that left your mouth. He fell back to his awkward mannerisms as he reached for the strawberry cake in front of him. "You should try this", he hid his face behind the plate, "I wrote it was delicious so it should be delicious."

You gladly accepted the dessert, if only to reveal Poe's blushed cheeks from behind it. You cut out a small bite and brought it into your mouth. Your eyes closed; the sweetness of the cream filled your senses, only battled by the sourness of fresh strawberries. "It's delicious", you said as soon as you swallowed. You did not have time to open your eyes before Ed crashed his lips onto yours. His kiss was sweeter than the cake and bolder than usual. He tasted the sweet dessert in your mouth before pulling back. His entire face was redder than a radish and you knew he had intended for this scene to play out exactly as it did.

"Indeed", he said, trying to cover his blush with the back of his hand, "Delicious"

"You know", you put down the plate and fork, "I know what you're planning"

Edgar looked at you, the reddish tint never leaving his cheeks. "Do you?", his eyes looked at you worriedly as if he had been caught stealing.

You walked towards him on your hands and knees. He reclined backwards as you came close. "I do", you said climbing on top of him. You could hear his ragged breath as you crashed your lips on his. He cupped your cheek and pulled you closer so he could once again taste the sweetness of your mouth. You grinded your hips on him to spite him. You swallowed a moan from him before he managed to grip your waist and keep you still. "What's wrong?", your smile teased him as much as your body. You leaned close enough to whisper in his ear, "Isn't this what you wanted?"

His lips traced your bare neck. His arms were sweetly wrapped around your torso as if guarding a treasure. He span the two of you around, hand protecting your precious head. "You have no idea", his eyes were closed as he touched his forehead on yours. His lips were sweet, drinking your melodious sighs. Your body was encased underneath his, his knees on each side of you. You could feel his bulge brush over you each time he lowered his body enough to kiss you.

"And here I thought you were a gentleman", your fingers combed his hair as he kissed you right above the bust. His one hand was already undoing the laces of your dress, but he stopped at the sound of your voice.

He seemed genuinely worried as he asked, "Would you like me to stop?"

He had this adorable shimmer in his pleading eyes. You knew he hung from your every word. He had pulled himself away at the slightest notion of discomfort, even if it was a mere jest on your part. Even so, nothing could hide the undying desire that blazed inside him and made his heart and breath race.

"Oh Ed", you laughed at his sweet confusion, "I only want you to stop when you finally had enough of me"

He smiled. "You are asking too much my love", he leaned back over you. He pulled your dress down until your body was rid of it, leaving you in your undergarments. "If I do that, I shall have to continue for eternity", he placed your hands over your breasts before he climbed down between your legs, "Or at least until my heart sings its last beat".

He lifted your chemise and buried his face on your mount. His tongue slipped between your rosey walls as he held your thighs apart. He alternated between kisses and licks as his fingers began circling your sensitive bud.

"Fuck, ED!", you could not help your body from arching as his lips shifted to suck on your bud, and he thrust two of his fingers inside you. You were by now more than wet enough to accommodate them. He knew your body so well that they curled and hit just the right spots inside you to make your body quiver in desire. He seemed to be melting more and more at each call of his name. He climbed higher. With his hand still working on your lower lips, his mouth captivated your upper ones. He placed one hand on your nape as he broke the kiss, letting his moans explode on your skin. You felt his breath on your cheeks, his need in his voice. He scissored his fingers. Your legs lifted on their own as he pressed on your silky walls. You wanted him. Your hands reached for his embroidered coat and began undoing its golden buttons until they could reach beneath the silk white shirt that hid behind. You knew your hands were cold from the stone's chill, but only when he trembled under their touch and you felt the scolding heat of his torso did you realise just how much you were torturing him. You could feel your wetness as it dripped from you to his fingers.

He broke free. He shook his jacket off and threw it aside. He pulled his shirt and got his head tangled up in the white fabric. You laughed. You heard his light chuckle underneath the tent he had made for himself. You sat up and helped him pull it off. The moment he was freed he reached for your body and pulled you onto his embrace. Your hips met his as your core drenched his light grey trousers. He collided his lips with yours. Your kiss was like water to a dying man. His hands cupped your exposed breasts, thumbs brushing over the nipples in a way that had you aching for more.

You pushed him down. His body fell on the white sheet on which he had displayed the food, framed by the numerous delicacies he had prepared. His chest heaved, his expression painful as he examined your body with his gaze. He reached for the laces of your pulled-down corset but you pushed his hand away. Your eyes fixed on his, you slowly undid the garment, leaving you only in your chemise which you easily took off. A slight chill enveloped your body. Your hands clamped around your torso at the sudden breeze, your body slightly shivering. Edgar's warm hand cupped your cheek. He had raised his body to reach your lips. He pulled you against him, his one hand rubbing up and down your torso, his other moving your hips against his thighs.

"Ed..."

"I know my love", his voice was strained as he pulled out a condom from his pocket, "I want you too". He freed his length from his trousers and dressed it. He slid the tip by your needy lips but never past them. "I want you so so much", he whispered between kisses, "so so much"

His length finally penetrated you. He let out a large moan that mixed with the sound of yours.

"You're so beautiful", he said as he began working his thrusts.

He held your hips to meet his in tandem until his head fell back. His eyes kept trying to focus back on yours, to check if your pleasure was as delightful as his, yet he kept losing himself in its depths.

"Edgar!", you cried in happiness. You shot your hand down on the floor to support you. Your fingers curled, clutching the white tablecloth instinctively as your back arched in your body's delight.

"Gah", he reached to rub eights on your bud. His lips caressed your breasts as he planted kisses closer and closer to their centres. You cried his name again. His hips met yours again and again, each time more agile and rough than the last. "God", he huffed on your chest, "Stay with me forever"

"I will!", you cried. His scraped your spine with his nails to urge your body into a tremble. His other hand pressed harsher on you, his eyes, ever watchful on your expression as you melted in his arms. He had his own struggle as your walls squeezed him the closer he brought you to ecstasy. He sought comfort in your body. He distracted himself with more kisses and loving nips at your skin. At last you let go. Your body slumped as the knot way down deep burst under the skill of his sword. You could not feel the chill any longer.

His tired breath exploded against your face. A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. He pressed his forehead on yours. "I love you so much", he tucked your hair, wet from sweat, behind your reddened ears. He planted a chaste kiss on your lips, one which you did not allow to remain anything other than deep.

He pulled out, resting your hips on his thighs. He continued to caress you, but you could feel how hard he still was as your own juices darkened his pulled trousers. "Edgar", you kissed him, "You're not done"

"It's okay", his arms kept you close as he nipped at your neck. "It's enough for me that you are"

He could be so stubborn sometimes. "It's not for me", your hand reached down for his erection. Your fingers wrapped around his length, moving up and down until they removed the condom. Your thumb brushed what precum came from the end. Edgar had buried his face in your shoulder. His expression was hidden, but his sounds were ever audible as his touch desperately sought yours. You did not see when his hand scooped some of the cake until the frosting touched your lips. You had begun kissing him lower, climbing down, when they nudged at the side of your mouth. You let them in. The sugary feeling and the softness of the cream overp-

"Sit on my face"

"Hm?", his fingers were still in your mouth. You were happy you did not bite them, but it seemed that he had led them there intentionally.

He brushed his thumb over the corner of your mouth. "If you're going...to do this haah...", he could not control his breath now that your fingers worked faster, "I need to...to make you feel good too"

He averted his gaze as soon as you sought it. He was red up to the tip of his ears. You retracted your hand, licking his precum off your fingers before you pulled him for a kiss. "Okay", you said.

You turned your body around until your hips were above his face. You were careful with how much weight you let down, fearful to crush him, but his hands pulled you down against his lips. He greedily kissed every part between your legs before he let his tongue work your walls once more. He was much more forceful than when you two had begun, almost making you forget what you were supposed to do. You could not reject that this had been his intention either.

With your eyes still clouded, you buried your face between his legs, your hands blindly working at his length as you confessed your cries to his skin. You could feel the effect you had on him even with such a small effort. But that had not been the point. You wanted him to feel at the very least as good as he made you feel. You kissed his length at the side before taking it in your mouth. Your fingers continued to work down at whatever you could not take.

"Fuuuck", he breathed, "Y/n!"

Much like you could not focus earlier, now he was losing his edge. But not for long. He tested your core before finally inserting three of his fingers inside. You were still sensitive enough for a tremble to spread to your limps, but your body still accepted him gratefully. He dipped his other hand in the melted ice that was supposed to keep the champagne cold before he pressed it at the edge of your clit. You squeaked and closed your legs around him. It felt so good. He felt so good. You picked up your pace. He moaned against you but that only contributed to your own pleasure even more. You could not keep your body from the fall any longer. The cord snapped and he lapped at your entrance as you sat heavier on him. But he was not far behind, you could feel it in the heavy breaths he tried to hide by kissing your lower lips again. You could see it in the way his toes curled and his legs retracted as much as he tried to hold them planted. His hands held your hips as he fell back and cried for you. His breaths were desperate as his essence filled your mouth. You could not see his face, but his body lifted yours up and down simply with the strength of his breaths filling his lungs.

You climbed off him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you into his embrace. He kissed you on the forehead, then the nose. His arms wrapped tightly around you. He was taller than you, and so he opted to pull your face to rest on his chest as he pressed his cheek on your hair. His breathing slowly calmed down. His eyes were closed but he was not asleep.

"I've missed you so much", he murmured. His voice was always so expressive, so evident of the pain or joy he felt.

You held him tighter, hiding your face in his chest. "I missed you too", your whisper was almost inaudible; but he heard it and chuckled as he petted your hair.

You pulled your body upwards. You reached for two of the pillows you had scattered around with your dalliance and placed them side to side for your heads to rest. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing up and down your skin.

"You said this is a mystery novel", you told him, arms hooking underneath his before resting your palm on his back, "I'm curious, what's the mystery"

He smiled. "I don't think I'll reveal it just yet", he said, "And please don't do so either even if you find it out yourself." He placed another kiss on your nose, moving his body close enough for his forehead to touch yours once more. His one arm snaked underneath you. "Call me greedy", he said, "But I'd like to hold you in my arms at the very least a little bit longer"

He closed his eyes again. His lips were smiling as he appreciated the moment to its full.

You smiled too. "How could I ever object to that?", you told him and followed his example.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I never had a taglist until today but:

@stygianoir

This feels lowkey weird

#poe #bsd poe #bsd smut #bsd x reader #edgar allan poe #edgar allan poe bsd #poe x reader #bsd poe x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs smut

[bunnyreaper]

i still get jealous

pairing - gabriel reyes x f!reader, minor niran prukamanee x f!reader wc -  1414 warnings - flirting, jealousy, mild sexual content notes - niran crush is developing but... i can’t cheat on my baby gabe so here is the product of that... ill add a follow up chapter... eventually? also on ao3

"Hello there."

A smooth, eloquent voice cuts through your thoughts, diverting your attention from spectating the bartender to the man that's appeared at your side. When you turn, the last person you expect is the VIP, the man of the hour himself.

"Oh, hi!" You offer him a bright smile, somewhat taken aback by how radiant he is close up, and how he somehow manages to appear delicate and imposing at the same time. "Niran, right?"

His handsome face splits into a grin, his eyes lighting up with joy. "The very same. I assume you've heard of me?" He purrs, as if the entire party isn't dedicated to his arrival.

"You're all anyone will talk about around the base." You reply, taking a quick sip of your drink.

New arrivals are always welcomed with open arms, especially when they seem to be gaining adoring fans at an alarming rate. 

When Kiriko was brought to the base, everyone was happy, but with news of Niran's arrival, most of the women and plenty of others were going absolutely nuts. 

As he takes a seat next to you, his scent catches up to you—uniquely floral, a good balance of delicate notes and unforgettable aroma.

"Good to know that I've made quite the impression." He sends a wink your way, which you hate to admit makes you blush. 

You sip desperately at your drink, hoping the alcohol will chase away the fact that, from a purely objective standpoint, he's incredibly attractive. 

He looks good in pictures, but you never quite got the appeal until now, as he sits before you and steals your attention. "I'm sure you're more than used to that." You comment teasingly, as you know there's no way he's clueless about the effect he has on people. 

"Perhaps." He chuckles, an angelic sound leaving his lips. "You never told me your name." 

"Y/N." You offer, giving him your hand to shake, more as a formality and act of politeness. 

"A beautiful name for such a beautiful flower." He coos, a certain look in his eye as he takes your hand. Peaking through fluttery lashes, he presses a kiss to your skin. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

"You too, Niran." As you begin to laugh. 

Indulging him with some seemingly harmless flirting was one thing, but he was clearly a man on a mission. 

This would make a great story later. 

"How are you enjoying the party?" Niran asks, cutting through your thoughts once more. 

"It's nice, I'm a little dead on my feet from extra training today, but, commander's orders..." You sigh, giving him a shrug and a smile. 

He leans in, coming even closer into your personal space, in a way you find both amusing and suffocating. 

"Your commander likes to work you hard?" He asks, a genuine spark of interest in his eyes. 

"Oh, you have no idea." You giggle, taking more sips of your drink.

In fact, you could say the Commander has it out for you personally. 

"I can help with that." His voice is flirtatious once more, and the offer takes you by surprise. 

"Oh?" 

Niran leans back, a beaming smile on his face as he conjures a sparkling, ethereal pink rose, before he offers it to you like he would a lover. 

"It's so pretty." You gasp, fascinated and transfixed by the display. 

The flower sits gently upon his fingers, magically persisting despite having appeared from nowhere—you've obviously not seen his use of Biolight in person before.

"Take it. You'll find you feel quite rejuvenated." 

You hesitate, wondering about the implications of accepting the rose, and yet fascinated by the chance to experience its healing effects for yourself.

You reach out and take the stem, and as you cradle it between your fingers, the pain in your muscles seeps out of you. "Wow." You gasp. 

"Am I interrupting something?" 

You don't need to turn to know Gabriel has chosen the perfect time to make his appearance at your side. 

"No." You supply quickly.

"Yes." Niran speaks at the same time, and you can't help but laugh. 

"Niran, this is Commander Reyes." You fight to keep the smile off your face, finding some amusement in both the realization Niran is about to have, and the jealous waves rolling off of Gabe. 

"Oh, the martinet you mentioned earlier." He retorts, without skipping a beat, and yet the smile he directs at Gabriel is perfectly polite. 

You thread your arm around Gabriel's waist, pulling him closer to your side. You welcome the feeling of him so close. "And... my boyfriend." 

"Oh!" Niran gasps, and you expect his expression to fall, yet his smile seems to beam wider. "Well, I suppose it makes perfect sense that such a beauty would be spoken for, and by such a fine specimen, too." Niran's sultry gaze turns back to Gabriel, unperturbed by the frown on the older man's face. 

"He is fine, isn't he?" You giggle, your hand slipping down to squeeze his ass teasingly. 

"Doesn't sound like that's what you were saying earlier." Gabriel mumbles as his gaze breaks with Niran's and he faces you, a quietly annoyed look in his eyes. 

"Well, you are a hardass too." You laugh once more, and keep your hand on the aforementioned hard ass. 

"You make quite the couple." Niran comments, seemingly leaning in to both of you. "Are you open to another?" 

A choking sound leaves you in an instant, as Gabriel's eyes go completely wide—shock is not something you're used to seeing on him.

"Uh, we'll get back to you on that." You reply, struggling to hold back your laughter. You rise from the barstool, and thread your arm in Gabriel's as you intend on tugging him away. "It was nice meeting you, Niran." 

Your tone is polite despite your clear intention to leave.

"You too." Niran grins, still unperturbed, his eyes flicker to Gabriel once more as he offers the man one final sultry look. "Both of you." 

You and Gabe weave through the throngs of people until you make it to a more secluded area of the room. 

Gabriel still looks a little taken aback. "Did he start flirting with me too?" 

"I... think so, yeah." You respond before finally letting free your laughter. 

"Huh." He comments absentmindedly, before he turns and tugs you closer to him. He peers down at you, a questioning look on his face. "I didn't know you were into prettyboys." 

The way he says prettyboys is quite clearly derisive. 

"What gives you that impression?" You giggle, really taking pleasure in Gabriel's possessive display. It's not the worst he's been, or the most dramatic, but it still riles you up nonetheless. 

"The doe eyed look you were giving him, your little giggles." His jaw tightens as he talks. 

You know he trusts you fully, yet you also know there are just some emotions that overwhelm him easily. 

"Somebody's jealous." You coo, as you rest your hands on his chest and cast him a cheeky look. 

His arms wrap around you, holding you tight and close. "Not jealous, territorial." 

"Don't worry, my real type is still tall, dark, handsome, and called Gabriel." You beam up at him, as you truly wouldn't even consider actually entertaining anyone else's affections.

In the arms of your love, you feel completely at home. Looking up at him now only reminds you that you're right where you belong. 

"Good to know." He replies, then begins to haul you away by your arm. "But just in case, I think you need a reminder." 

"We're ditching?" You ask, as you struggle to keep pace as he heads back through the crowd.

He comes closer as the two of you move, his head dipping down beside your ear. "Oh, you'd rather stay at the welcoming party of your new friend?" 

"No Gabe." You still him for a moment, as you return his whispers. 

"Good." He grunts, resuming your journey once more.

When you're out of everyone's earshot and on your way to your quarters, Gabriel slams you into the wall of the hallway. 

His hands come to your waist, pressing you in as he traps you against the hard surface. His eyes are dark and stormy.

"I'm gonna fuck you until you forget his name." He growls. "And your own." 

He presses his growing erection against you, as he comes to whisper to you once more. 

"My name will be the only one you remember." 

#gabriel reyes x reader #niran pruksamanee x reader #reaper x reader #lifeweaver x reader #reaper overwatch #lifeweaver overwatch #overwatch x reader #gabriel reyes #niran pruksamanee

[spidey-x-male-reader]

Could I make request for Roy Harper x reader where reader and him are on a fake date for a mission that ends up being a bust so they just finish the date?

Pairing: Roy Harper x male!reader

Warnings: ///

A/N: I LOVE ROY HARPER SO MUCH AND I WILL WRITE LITERALLY ANYTHING FOR HIM. also the reader is being described as gay here just for your knowledge. BUT I LOVE ROY HARPER SO MUCH

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny afternoon in Star City when you found yourself standing outside a quaint café, nervously adjusting your shirt. It had been a while since you had been on an actual date and, as it turns out, getting ready for a fake date was just as stressful. But eventually you managed to pick out something that looked alright.

This was a mission with Roy Harper, you had met him a few times already. You fought side by side on some missions but this was a different kind of mission. You weren’t sure why someone thought it would be smart to send you on an undercover mission but you were here now. The objective was to gather information from a suspected arms dealer who frequented this very café. And to be unsuspicious the two of you should pretend to be on a date.

You weren’t sure why they chose you two out of all people though. There were some heroes that were actually dating that for sure would be less suspicious. But you are here now.

Roy Harper, ever the charismatic charmer, approached you with a playful grin on his face. Dressed in a casual yet stylish outfit, he effortlessly exuded confidence. For the love of god you had no idea how he managed to be so chill while you were a nervous wreck internally. 

"Hey, handsome. Ready to play our parts?" he asked, his voice laced with a mischievous tone. Immediately you felt a bit more at ease. Roy had that effect on you.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled back at him. "As ready as I'll ever be, Roy. Let's make this believable."

Together, you entered the café, Roy wrapping his arm around yours in a feigned display of affection, you tried your best to stay calm but having him this close was just making you nervous. 

As you sat down at a cozy table near the window, you observed the other patrons, trying to identify the arms dealer among them. The atmosphere was light, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the murmurs of conversations.

Roy leaned closer, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Remember, we need to be subtle. Let's talk, laugh, and act like we're genuinely interested in each other."

“Oh so you’re saying that I am not usually your type, mister harper?” you quietly asked in a joking tone.

“I mean I won’t lie, you’re cute but you’re a big nerd.”

You faked hurt, putting a hand on your chest but then grinned. “Wait, aren't you the guy who reads programming text books for fun? How am I the nerd here?”

“Well yeah but I don’t wear superman merch in my free time.”

“Oh shut up. Hood has Wonder Woman boxers and no one gives him shit for that.”

Roy now looked at you for a few seconds. “...are you serious? Because if you are, I might have to use this as blackmail material.”

He wanted to say something else but you two got interrupted when a waiter came over and asked you to order.

You ordered and then looked over at Roy who’s eyes were still on the menu. “He’s taking a latte and…one of those muffins.” you ordered for him and the waiter already disappeared.

“Did you just order for me?”

“I should do something for my fake boyfriend.”

“Naw. Am I your first fake boyfriend?” Roy asked with a grin but you could swear that he actually seemed to be interested.

“In fact, yes. I usually don’t get into situations like this.” you said with a chuckle.

“Fair enough. But I bet usually the guys are all over you.” 

“Oh you really don’t know me that well.” you just grinned, shaking your head.

“What? Come on. You’re kidding. I can’t believe–” the waiter came back and put down your drinks and snacks and he looked after them for a minute. “Where was I? Oh yeah. I can’t believe that.”

“You’re not in a relationship right now either, right?”

“Yes. But I chose that.” he grinned while leaning back in his chair.

“I thought Starfire broke up with you.”

“I…okay yeah that did happen but I’m over it.”

“I mean I wouldn’t be over it if someone like her would break up with me but whatever you say.” you grinned, grabbing your cup to start sipping your drink.

“I thought you were gay?”

“I am. Doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a beautiful woman. I’m gay, not blind.”

He laughs at that and you continue talking for a bit, almost losing track of time when you feel your phone vibrating in your pocket. You get it out to check your messages.

“Are you using your phone while on a date, (y/n)? Very unprofessional.”

“It’s Oliver. Apparently the guy has just shown his face somewhere else.”

“Seriously? Man I came all this way and– hey why is Oliver texting you and not me?” he now asked, leaning over and looked at your phone. “And why do you have him saved as Ollie??”

“What can I say? Your father likes me more than you.”

“Oh shut up.” he chuckled, lightly hitting your shoulder.

“What? I’m fake dating his child. Obviously we are forming a deep bond there.”

You just chuckled at that. The tension that you had felt when you arrived at this place had begun to dissipate, leaving behind a newfound ease between you and Roy.

“Well… we’ve been stood up. Really a horrible feeling.” Roy grinned, the tension from the mission lifting from his shoulders. “But you know…we’re already here. We might as well enjoy the rest of our date.”

He grinned while reaching out to put his hand on yours.

“You do know that we don’t have to play anymore, right?” you grinned slightly.

“Oh believe me, (y/n/n), I’m not playing.”

Oh.

And as it turns out, being on a date with Roy Harper was not as bad as you originally anticipated. Mostly because you weren’t the best at dates yourself.

As the sun began to set eventually, casting an orange hue across the city, Roy leaned back in his chair, a content smile gracing his face. "You know, for a mission that turned out to be a bust, this turned out to be one of the best dates I've ever had."

Your heart skipped a beat, mirroring his smile. "Yeah it was pretty nice.”

Eventually the waiter came again and Roy insisted on paying. Only minutes afterwards you were outside the café looking at the sky. 

“I guess you’re heading somewhere else so…this is where we split up” Roy slowly spoke.

You moved your arms around your torso, shuddering a bit against the cold that you felt due to the wind but nodded. “Yeah…”

He looked at you for a moment but then pulled off his jacket wordlessly handing it over to you. 

“Roy. I can’t take that.” you slowly said.

He just pushed the jacket into your hand. “No problem. Just give it back to me on the next date.” he winked at you and then left in the other direction. 

You smiled slightly, slowly putting on the jacket and trying to ignore the flattering in your chest when you realized what he had said.

The next date.

#Roy Harper #roy harper imagine #roy harper x you #roy harper x reader #arsenal x reader #Arsenal #Arsenal x you #dc #dc x you #dc x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader #roy harper x male reader #arsenal x male reader #dc x male reader #dc comics x male reader #x reader #x male reader #gay #pride

[the-mic-drop]

Zelink gets Isekaied into BG3 Pt7: Camp Emotional Turmoil

Zelda- High Elf Draconic Lineage Sorcerer

Link- Half Wood Elf Champion Fighter

So far: Team Link defeated Auntie Ethel and saved Mayrina. Link got all melancholic.

Team Link returns to camp not long after Team Zelda gets back. Link jog-walks up to Zelda and gives her a possessive kiss right off the bat. Karlach audibly coos and everyone (except Lae'zel) smirks at the display.

Zelda is flustered, since Link was reluctant to show affection before, and asks him what's happened. He says he'll explain when they debrief.

Once the party changes into camp clothes and eats dinner, Zelda gives her team's debrief. They cleared out the area's Gnolls and played firefighter at Waukeen's rest.

Once Duke Ravengard comes up, Wyll reveals that's his father. Questions ensue. Moonrise Towers becomes an objective.

Moving on, Zelda tells them about the Githyanki encounter. Most relevantly, the Gith are hunting Shadowheart's artefact. Zelda gently (compared to how Lae'zel would have) coaxes an explanation out of Shadowheart.

Shadowheart tells them all she's able. She's on a mission for Lady Shar and has an amount of amnesia because of it.

Zelda diffuses some tension between Shadowheart and Lae'zel.

Link tells the party about Auntie Ethel and her true nature; a Hag. He explains that they defeated her and saved a woman named Mayrina. He tells Mayrina's story and tells them about the wand.

Lae'zel and Astarion are a little upset that no progress was made with the Goblins, but not so upset that anyone makes a scene.

Before they wrap up, Link mentions Gandrel and how he is hunting Astarion and a possible connection to a village attack and child abduction. The party is understandably perturbed, but Astarion is quick to tell them about Cazador and how he'd rarely done anything that he hadn't been ordered to. That conversation goes as normal.

While the group discusses their moves for the next day, Mizora appears out of the campfire and turns Wyll into a devil. Everyone is appropriately broken up about it. Link doesn't quite get it, since it just looks like he had horns now, but he reads the room.

Before they go to sleep that night, Zelda asks Link if he's ok and if Mayrina is the reason why he acted differently. Link explains that Mayrina being willing to travel with her undead husband on the hope that he can be restored made him think of how far he'd gone to bring her back. Twice. And he couldn't help but think how he might act in Mayrina's place. That rabbit hole didn't lead anywhere good.

Zelda says something comforting, but the question lingers in their minds. They decide to sleep in the same bedroll that night. (No hanky panky. Sorry, voyeurs!)

That night, the party is visited by the Dream Visitor for the first time.

Zelda's visitor looks a lot like a Gerudo, a few features reminiscent of Urbosa. That sets off all kinds of warning bells. She plays along, getting whatever information she can while waiting for the Visitor to make a mistake. When the Visitor claims to be an adventurer from Baldur's Gate, Zelda jumps.

"How did a Gerudo make it to Baldur's Gate?"

When the Visitor can't answer, Zelda demands their true identity. If the urging to use the tadpole's powers wasn't suspicious enough, this all but confirms her suspicions. Or confirms the validity of being suspicious.

The Visitor simply asks for trust before the dream ends.

The next morning, Zelda gathers everyone together to tell them about the dream. Link reports a similar dream with a visitor that resembled King Rhoam, but Hylians and Elves are similar enough that he didn't make the same connection Zelda did.

Everyone else reports a similar dream in turn and, with the revelation that the visitor(s) is likely an illusory form, even those who are usually willing to absorb more tadpoles, like Astarion, are adamantly against it. With the group's resolve hardened, they gear up and prepare to face the Goblin Camp.

#Baldur's Gate III #Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #Legend of Zelda #LoZ #Breath of the Wild #BotW #Tears of the Kingdom #TotK #Zelda #Link #Hero of the Wild #Zelink #Zelda x Link #Shadowheart #Lae'zel #Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #Gale Dekarios #Gale of Waterdeep #Wyll Ravengard #Karlach #Karlach Cliffgate #Mizora

[familyabolisher]

Common wisdom has it that Don Quixote includes within its pages a number of different forms of prose narrative. Cervantes’ interest in collecting different forms and genres may be due to the fact that collectionism was rising throughout Europe. The aristocracy would create cabinets of curiosities, or adorn their palaces with the best works of art. This was considered a mark of distinction. Cervantes, then, uses collectionism within one text: he displays Don Quixote’s library and he also moves through a series of genres, combining and changing them. By transforming the objects displayed he comes up with something totally new. Such is Cervantes’ metamorphic ability that today, even though books of chivalry are not read, his work remains one of the greatest classics of literature, not just in the West but throughout the world. Thus, chivalric texts are constantly collected in the novel, be it as books in the knight’s library or as episodes throughout the novel. The novel serves as a parody of this genre, which many have asserted had almost disappeared by the time Cervantes penned it. This is actually not quite true – recent discoveries have shown that such novels continued to be written, albeit remaining in manuscript. Furthermore, they were used for courtly spectacles. Thus, in collecting the chivalric, Cervantes is being doubly fashionable (and not at all out of fashion as some would contend). His book appropriates both the collectionist propensity of the upper classes and the uses of chivalry as a playful mode to assert authority. By turning these into carnivalesque episodes, Cervantes’ text both asserts and questions fashions and authority.

[…] While the chivalric represents a longing for idealized chivalric-aristocratic values, thus looking at the past, the picaresque points to the present and the future. It reflects a society where traditional hierarchies are put under pressure with the rise of individualism and with the development of a bourgeoisie that did not have aristocratic privileges. As Richard Bjornson asserts: ‘The situation was rendered more complex by the fact that the nascent bourgeoisie of fifteenth-and sixteenth-century Spain was largely composed of conversos (converts to Catholicism) with Jewish ancestors. Permanently alienated from the Jewish culture which they had abjured, as well as from the Christian one in which they had to live, these conversos could hardly escape an awareness of their own compromised identity, even if they succeeded in passing as Old Christians’ (1977, 17–18). For Bjornson, the picaresque rises from this anxiety and many of its authors are conversos – and so are their protagonists. As such, the pícaro stands in contradistinction to the idealized knights of romances and even to the more impoverished but still noble hidalgos. But the picaresque, although it may have been born out of bourgeois and converso writers, also focuses on the poor and their plight. Anne J. Cruz clearly pinpoints and expands the subject of the picaresque: ‘In a country where homogeneity was desired at any price such marginalized subalterns as the poor, criminals, conversos, moriscos and prostitutes shifted easily into the position of the Other, filling the void left by the leper’ (1999, xvi). These novels, then, were written as a critique of social mores and as failed attempts at reform. They may not have been received as such: ‘The authors’ critical thrust is nevertheless thwarted when the public, in order to insulate itself against social change, converts the pícaro to the risible category of the clown . . . transformed into the liminal position of scapegoat through the symbolic unconscious of the new nation-state’ (1999, xvi). From the start, then, Cervantes creates a clash of genres: the backwards looking and aristocratic chivalric vs the forward-gazing, critical, and polemical picaresque. This clash of genres reverberates with a clash of cultures and civilizations since the pure-blood Christian knight contrasts with the tainted pícaro whose ancestors may belong to a civilization that was warring with the West, Islam.

Frederick A. de Armas, 'Pillars of Genre, Ghosts of Empire: An Introduction,' from Don Quixote Among the Saracens: A Clash of Civilisations and Literary Genres

#currently reading #don quixote

[umbrace-rambles]

One Piece and Being Different

I could talk long and wide about all the things I love about One Piece, from the worldbuilding to the character writing to the political/darker topics it touches, anything. But one of the main reasons I personally love it so much and I don't believe has been talked about as much as it should, is how much it celebrates otherness. This is very much an overarching theme in the series because pirates by themselves directly go against society's standards, but this is focused more on a character point.

Objectively speaking, most OP characters are freaks and weirdos and strange and off putting, and it's good! Luffy specially, and he is the MAIN character, celebrates and embodies this weirdness to the extreme, and it's incredible how he manages to push this idea to other people around him too. It happens time and time again that he will meet someone and, the more different they are, the more he instantly wants them to join his crew. He is so incredibly driven by the wonder of discovering things different to him that he only feels happy about their existence, he wants to know and have fun with and love them because they're different!

And it has been acknowledged, the general effect Luffy has on people, how he manages to pull them to him like moth to a flame and recruit them to his side without even trying. It’s such incredible power, but it's also incredible how everybody around him, and especially his crew, always strive to become better for him, and most of the time becoming better, in OP, implies stop being normal. Being human, being acceptable by society's standards.

Like damn, the whole character plot of Luffy's fight against Katakuri was Katakuri coming to realize that he doesn't have to put up a front for other people, that he can keep going being himself, without hiding his monstrous features. That is when Katakuri stops fighting for his family and starts fighting because he wants to. And even after Luffy wins that fight he is respectful of Katakuri's wishes and covers his mouth with his hat.

Most of the Strawhat crew are really adopted strays, lost people and old enemies. They were othered, by people or circumstance, and Luffy gave them a home and a purpose. And in their increasing devotion to his cause, and through his constant love towards them, they have learned to stop being afraid of being different. Luffy will always accept them.

Franky had to quite literally rebuild himself into a living weapon, he chose to do that so his Battle Frankies couldn't be used against his will ever again, but despite being a cyborg he still looked mostly human. His pre-time skip design often shows how he pulls off his skin gloves to punch with his real metal hands. He was a criminal and shunned by his city and he was okay with that, but he still chose to blend in. After he joins Luffy he fully embraces himself and becomes quite extravagant in his own design, he is proud to show off his body modifications, he has fun with it, he accepts his cards and decides to use them at their full extent for Luffy. His metal parts in full display, painted with bright colors. Flame-shaped fists, changing his hairstyle at the push of a button, that is not someone trying to blend in anymore.

Chopper is a character whose biggest fear has always been being an outcast. He was bullied out of his herd for not being reindeer enough, he was hunted down by humans for not being human enough. Eventually, however, he learns that in order to be able to keep going, to defend his newfound family, he will have to become a monster for them, and he is happy to, because he would do anything for them. He knows that they will never think less of him for being a monster, for being different. These are some of the most extreme examples but every single character in the crew reflects this theme in some way.

We have people with extremely bizarre powers, shapeshifters, furries, witches, made up creatures, zombies, talking animals, talking food, living skeletons, a whole kingdom of queers, sea monsters, dragons, human experiments and so much more. In a series that mixes so many genres, so many themes, so many types of characters, such outrageous and unconventional character designs could have been used for mockery, or simply used as villainous traits as so many other stories do. And they are certainly sometimes cause of mockery, but it's rarely ever malign. In OP this extreme otherness is often a source of awe, a positive trait, something to be admired. It certainly is for Luffy.

Luffy is a main character that exclusively judges people by their true selves, beyond what they may be saying or doing, with his very keen emotional intelligence. In the world of One Piece, where the maximum power is held by the World Goverment, an organization that actively shuns everything different and is willing to sacrifice anything for the continuity of censorship, power and control, that turns a blind eye towards unaffiliated countries, the slave trade, and the underworld, that is willing to create agreements with some of the most feared pirates and allow them to continue to exercise fear in exchange for their assistance as brute force, Luffy and his recurring thread of freedom and acceptance is beautifully fitting.

#This got away from me #Sorry if something doesn't make sense I literally wrote this in my phone's notes app at 2am in a fit of obsession #but just got around to edit it lol #this rly turned out to be a love letter to Luffy huh #main character of all time #one piece #this is LONG i apologize. it's mostly the pictures lol #one piece meta #one piece text posts #monkey d. luffy #franky one piece #tony tony chopper #one piece chopper #charlotte katakuri #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #world government #op_meta

[charmedreincarnation]

How to use water to manifest 🌊💧🐟🚿!!!

It has been said that water has the power to manifest the energy of your intentions. As it is the essence of life, the energy of water is said to be a strong catalyst for manifesting the desired outcome you wish to experience.

Firstly, let’s discuss the main concepts behind manifesting using water. Water has the capacity to amplify any thought or intention, as it naturally stores and amplifies energy. It is believed that every thought and emotional state you put out will be taken up by the molecules of water and delivered through to the universe. Therefore, if you want to manifest something, you need to direct your thoughts and emotions towards the desired outcome in order for this energy to be reflected in the water.

So, how do you actually use water to manifest something? There are many different methods you can use. One method is putting intention into a glass of water and drinking it. Visualize your glass of water as a vessel of your intentions, and hold it while repeating affirmations that support your desired outcome. You may also choose to add items such as symbols, stones or colors to further amplify your intention.

Another popular method is writing your intentions down on a piece of paper or in a journal and storing it in a glass jar filled with water. You can also take this further by adding symbols, stones or colors to further amplify the desired result.

another option is to set up an intention altar with water. You can use an open container such as a bowl or cup filled with water and display any objects that represent your intention. Once you have done this, focus on your intention for five minutes each day and do this for at least three weeks for maximum effect.

I’ve also turned my shower time into basically a manifesting chamber. It’s the most relaxing part of my day, and I don’t do much, aside from play theta waves and affirm and carry on with my routine…but I always leave feeling revived and I think it’s like I said before, because water has amplified characteristic

My Water wish method (as far as I know )✨✨✨

Water has been used for centuries to make and manifest wishes. Whether it is pouring water into a river for good luck or floating away a wish on a reed, people all over the world have used water for its powerful magical abilities.

First, choose a container of water that you can find around your house such as a cup, bowl or glass. Fill the container with enough water that you feel comfortable working with, knowing that your wish can go out into the universe.

Next, visualize your wish. Spend time envisioning exactly what it is that you want to manifest. Picture how your life will look and feel once your wish has been granted. Think of how you'll feel when the wish has come true.

Once you've connected with the feelings of the wish, bring it into the container of water by reciting your wish aloud or inside your head. Really connect with the feelings of your wish being granted as you speak it.

Finally, use your hands or any tools that you'd like to, to interact with the water in some way such as stirring or stirring with a spoon, sprinkling it up and down, or drawing patterns in the water with your finger. This helps to activate the energy of your wish and send it out into the universe.

Then of course I was scrolling through YouTube and I saw this subliminal from one of my fav sub makers regarding water out of no where. I haven’t used it because I just randomly just found it but I’ll take it as a sign to share it with you guys 🤭🤭

I also saw this post randomly on my Instagram by another dope sub maker, and it looks like a dope water challenge for anyone who wants to try :)! I believe she’s on tumblr @kikispiritualservices so full credits to them!!!

Regardless in general I’ve always been fascinated with the concept of water having essentially 0 properties but having only positive benefits. Even though it is a natural element that can provide many health benefits. Studies have suggested that drinking plenty of water can help boost brain performance, increase energy levels, flush out toxins, and increase overall well-being. Water is also believed to be a powerful tool in healing, particularly when combined with other elements.

Even better,Water has the ability to act as a conduit for healing energy. This can include connecting with the energy of the Universe, communicating with plants and animals, and even stimulating healing energy within yourself. By creating an environment of love and acceptance around you, you can allow the healing energy of water to flow freely. So though I think it’s a limiting belief to think you have to drink a lot of water to receive positive benefits from subliminals and other things in the community, it certainly wouldn’t hurt to utilize and drink it more 💗

#manifesation #law of assumption #law of attraction #water