#please enjoy my most evil creation

[doctorwhoisadhd]

jack harkness + hurt people by the garages

[hunny-beann]

You Can; You Will...

Dream of the Endless x f!Reader

Note: Hi! This is my first time ever writing for Dream, so if anything seems a bit off or if there are any minor lore issues, please do your best not to pay them too much mind (although absolutely feel free to point them out). That said, I had a lot of fun writing this fic, and I really hope that you enjoy it!

Warnings: Uh angst(?), is Dream himself a warning? Because he should be.

Word Count: 2,644

This had to be torture, surely.

Some evil method of malice created by some long forgotten god of pain.

Why else would Dream have been looking at you so?

Here, sitting in his rotting throne room, upon his crumbling dais, his expression as close to pained as you had ever seen it before.

"You have returned."

He stated matter of factly, though his eyes betrayed the solemn tone that his voice held.

It had hurt him to come back to his realm and find that you had gone with the others, more so than you ever could have anticipated or imagined. You could see it in the way that his fingers gripped at the arm rests beneath them, and in the way that his all encompassing presence seemed to shrink slightly, as if the very particles of him and his power that made up the world beneath your feet were attempting to flee from you.

You swallowed thickly, but managed a nod in spite of your nerves and the heavy weight that bore down upon your heart at the sight of the being before you.

"I have. I did not anticipate it, but I found that I was suddenly overcome with the urge to..."

The words 'go home' died upon your lips before you could say them, because in truth, you were not entirely sure if this realm truly was home anymore, not just for you, but to anything besides the endless sitting before you and his most loyal of dreams and nightmares.

His own creations.

Dream let out a soft hum in response to your words, before he carefully rose into a standing position, his coat swishing at his feet in that familiarly dramatic way that you remembered so painfully at present, and had once recalled so fondly in the past.

Now though, after over a century of having it as only a memory, a longing lodged deep within the confines of your soul, you found that it almost hurt to bear witness to his familiarities again.

You had buried the Morpheus you had once known in all ways but the physical sense, mourned and grieved him as if you had watched his demise with your own two eyes, never having a day pass you by where you did not think of him and the way that his voice had sounded, or that his hands had felt.

And now, he was standing before you so casually, and you could not help but view this figure before you as a caricature, some imposter sent to cause you even more pain than you had already endured.

Being an immortal human was a burden in and of itself, because it meant watching nearly all those that you loved die in the span of a lifetime, which to you, had long since started to feel like nothing in the grand scheme of things.

You had begged Death to take this weight from you, to let time have its way with your body, bones, and soul, but Destiny had seen to it that his sister knew better than to meddle with this particular affair.

A long dead family member had blessed you with what they perceived to be a "gift" long ago.

And now, you suffered while they lay buried in the ground in lands you had not seen nor touched in centuries.

So, once upon a time, Dream had meant everything to you.

Ever since the day you had met him, after once again grovelling with Death to let you go, he had become abundantly special in your eyes.

Because unlike almost everyone else around you, Dream could not die, not from the ticking of any clock, nor the feebleness of his own body.

He was the one thing you believed to be permanent.

And certainly, it had taken quite a while to warm up to the man, and far longer still for him warm up to you, but after enough impromptu meetings in Death's domain over multiple centuries, he had eventually indulged you when you asked hesitantly if you could see his realm, 'the dreaming' as he so fondly referred to it, for yourself.

And oh, what a sight it had been.

Lush rolling lands, fields upon fields of flowers, a palace so tall it seemed possible to view it from miles and miles away...

You had never wanted to leave.

And eventually, you would not have to anymore.

Not after you had fled to the dreaming after losing your very best friend to disease, her death so dirty and without dignity that you could scarcely bare to even consider it.

He had sensed your arrival, of course he had, for the realm was made of the very power that he possessed, but he had not sensed your woes, nor had he anticipated your sudden presence in his crowded throne room, searching for any familiar face that might serve as a reminder that you were not without some semblance of certainty, to prove if nothing else that you were not yet alone.

You had all but collapsed at the foot of his throne, eyes bloodshot and cheeks wet with tears as you regarded him with a pain he was all too familiar with, but had no clue how to comfort you about.

Loss.

'I can't do it anymore.'

You had told him with absolute certainty, hands clenched into fists as you struggled to hold back sobs,

'I can't endure this torture, I feel as if I have died a thousand deaths without ever having experienced even one.'

Morpheus reached forward, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear, before he sat back once more, taking note of the way that, simply due to his touch alone, you were now giving him your entirely undivided attention, breaths shaky but eyes wide and trained on him, as if you had never been touched before, or maybe as if you had never expected him to touch you in the eternity that you would experience.

'You can.'

He said, voice steady and eyes cold, though almost determined looking as he spoke.

'You will.'

You felt your eyebrows crease at his words, but Dream simply shook his head slightly before you could even open your mouth to reply.

He watched you for a few moments, before finally, he decided that enough silence had passed.

'If it is easier, you may remain in the dreaming as long as you please. All I ask, is that you do not make me regret my kindness.'

Shocked, you had nodded, before finally mustering up the strength to respond.

'But why?'

You had asked, watching as the being sitting before you sighed, his gaze traveling up toward the ceiling as he spoke,

'You will not have to watch nearly as many crumble to dust here in my domain, and I can see the toll that your immortality is taking on your feeble human mind. My sister has taken a liking to you, and I do not doubt that she would want me to take pity upon your unfortunate circumstances. To preserve someone she calls a friend, I will allow you to reside here until you give me a reason not to.'

And you never had.

For so very long now, hundreds upon hundreds of years, you had remained almost entirely within the dreaming.

You had friends here, nightmares and dreams alike, although truthfully, none captured your attention in the way that Morpheus did.

And none captured his nearly as much as you somehow managed to.

You were close, bound by some firm understanding of one another that never ceased to solidify the fact that the dreaming was your home, the place where you belonged, and Dream the very host that so effortlessly kept you rooted.

Before, there had been almost nothing for you in the way of consistency or rhythm, and now, there was an ebb and flow, a push and pull, a beat to follow, and the biggest surprise of all was that you made up half of each of these things.

Where Dream would ebb, you would flow, where he would push, you would pull, and you so very easily followed along with and eventually even progressed and changed his rhythm in a way that almost made the dreaming feel as if it had two rulers.

The dream lord,

And his once missing other half, the muse of the very land beneath your feet, and of the wind within your hair.

Until one day, that all came to an end.

The king of dreamers left and did not return.

And you could not even dare try and pick up the pieces of his realm that he left behind.

It had been a shameful abandonment, one full of pain and grief, but only a few short years after Dream's disappearance, you grabbed the scarce few items that did not remind you of him or the family that you were leaving behind, and you vanished just as he had done.

At that point, the slow but sure crumbling of the dreaming had only just begun, but your cowardice had won out over your strength, and you'd quickly found that you could not bare to see it shrink into nothingness.

'You can.'

Dream had once told you.

'You will.'

He had assured.

But you could not this time.

You likely would not ever again.

You were not the first to leave the dreaming, not by a long shot.

But your absence and the meaning that it carried rang out loud and clear for all of those who had chosen to remain.

The once so honored and beloved guest of their lord of dreams had chosen her painful mortal world over anything that the realm had left to offer...

And for many, that was all the proof that they needed that their creator would not return.

You were far from the first to leave.

But you were even further from the last.

"Did you lose faith in me?"

Dream asked suddenly, and you felt yourself gasp slightly at the question.

Lose faith in him?

Was that what you had done?

With almost no consideration for the question, you shook your head.

"No."

You said firmly, watching as the endless in front of you tilted his head ever so slightly, his eyes boring into your own even from across the room and down the ruined steps,

"Never."

Morpheus took a few steps toward you, and almost instinctively, you moved to lessen the space that lay between before forcing yourself to stop, hands clenched into fists at your sides, the pain of seeing your friend, who you had believed to be dead just hours ago, too great even for longing to overcome.

Dream seemed to notice this, and stopped in his tracks, though he was now far closer than before, only a few short steps away.

"Then why did you leave so easily? Why did you abandon the life that I offered you here if you had the faith required to know that I would someday return to the dreaming? Return to you?"

Your breath shuddered at the implication that he had come back in any part for you, but you chose to ignore his words in favor of fighting off his accusations of faithlessness on your part.

"I left because I could not bear to see this world that you created fall apart around me while I did nothing. It felt as if I were watching another loved one die, and I could not deal after believing that someone had taken your life as well. I was hurting, and I found that it was easier to hurt in the waking world, where pain was familiar, than it was to hurt here, where it never seemed to bite so hard. That is why I left. But I never once lost faith in you."

Dream raised a brow at that last part, and you were quick, to clarify,

"I may have thought you dead, but I did not once believe that if you were alive, you would not come back. My belief that you were dead, my certainty in that regard, came from the immense faith that I have in you, Lord Morpheus, because I could not fathom that you ever could have abandoned us or the dreaming... After years, I ceased being capable of thinking that you were somewhere out there anymore. I did not think it possible for anything to bind you so tightly away from your duties, if not for death herself."

Dream stared back at you in response to your words, as if taking them in for several long moments, before finally he nodded,

"I see. Though I do wish you would have considered the fact that I never would have allowed myself to die knowing what I would be leaving behind."

You sighed exasperatedly,

"But we know that you would not be the first to abandon your post, my lord, not the first to leave something as fickle as your universe given duties behind. Who could have blamed you if you died in spite of these things if others were able to willingly leave them?"

Your voice was small and quiet as you spoke, unsure of how Dream might react to the mention of Destruction, even when the wound was not necessarily new anymore.

You watched as the being before you stiffened, his gaze growing ever so slightly colder, before he spun around and began making his way back toward his throne, his tone firm and serious as he replied, still facing away from you all the while.

"I was not speaking of my duties to the dreaming."

He stated simply, though you could tell by his cadence that his words were anything but.

You sighed, exasperated and fragile after all that had been said thus far,

"Well what else was it that you were leaving behind that was so important that I should have known it would keep you alive then, Dream?"

The lord of the dreaming locked eyes with you as you finished asking this question, cold piercing gaze filling you with a deep regret and an immense longing as he sat upon his throne once more, one long leg crossing over the other as he all but stared into your very soul.

"You."

He said simply, voice low and gaze unwavering as he spoke, watching as that one word alone sent you staggering several steps backward, one hand clutching lightly at your chest as your feeble human mind tried to comprehend all that had happened to you in this one day alone.

"Me?"

You whispered, voice echoing slightly throughout the empty throne room in spite of how quiet it was.

"But I am not-"

"You are everything."

Dream cut you off before you could finish, eyes still boring holes into your own as he continued to watch you from his seat, as if knowing that if he moved any closer now, that you would run, run and likely never return for fear of what any of this meant for you and for the once permanent seeming fixture that Dream had so easily played within your life for so long.

You floundered at those words, vision growing bleary and spotty as you turned to rush out of the room, to be anywhere but this pale comparison of the dreaming, the once beautiful world that you had known for so very long.

You fled your home with tears in your eyes and a hand at your heart.

Dream stayed where he sat upon his throne, and watched your fears consume you again until you faded from view.

He did not try to stop you.

A broken home like this was no place for a fragile soul like yours.

And he could offer you no better than the very world he had once so kindly rescued you from.

[sabrgirl]

things that aren't inherently islamic but have improved my deen ♡

practising mindfulness

mindfulness meditation (focusing on my breathing for 10-15 minutes a day and bringing my attention back to my breath every time my mind wanders) helps with concentration in salah. through practising this every day, you're able to bring your attention back to the moment much better as you train your brain to do so with your breath.

helps to ground myself in the moment rather than stress about the future and past - allows me to surrender to Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ much better and have tawakkul and sabr by learning to enjoy each day as it comes

journalling

shadow work

islam is fundamentally based on disciplining and self-regulating the nafs/ego. if you do not discipline your nafs, you will end up inclining towards evil: '‘And I do not hold my own self (nafs) to be free from weakness; for, the soul is surely prone to enjoin evil, except that whereon my Lord has mercy. Surely, my Lord is Most Forgiving, Merciful.’ (12:54). it was a saying by many elder islamic scholars and early muslims that 'he who knows himself knows His Lord'.

shadow work is when you address the hidden parts of yourself that we naturally and/or subconsciously suppress inside because we don't like them. the ego/nafs does this. you can find journal prompts on google, for eg 'shadow work prompts for anxious attachment' or 'shadow work prompts for male validation' etc - whatever it is you know is a problem about you. or, if you don't know where to start, just type in 'shadow work prompts' on google and you'll find something for you

through understanding in more detail what my ego does through addressing my fears in life and hardship/trauma i've experienced, i'm able to let go of those parts of myself, make an action plan to do things differently and become a better person. as a result, i'm able to make better decisions based off of righteousness and what pleases Allah, rather than acting based off of what scares my ego.

for eg - something happened when i was young that made me have an internal fear of being replaced which i had *no* idea i had. yet, i was acting on this fear subconciously, as i've always wanted to be original and i've had such distinct/original things that other people don't usually have so that i can stand out and it can become impossible to replace me. i was doing this so subconsiously but my nafs/ego was scared inside. when people asked me 'where is that from?' i wouldn't want them to know and would become very upset if they tried to 'copy me'. it wasn't until my best friend wanted to know where my perfume was from and i didn't want to tell her and ended up arguing with her that i realised i have a problem. i did shadow work and journalled about it to figure out why i'm acting this way. after doing this shadow work, it led me back to that big change in my life when i was a child and i realised that it hurt my ego a lot and resulted in me having a big fear of being replaced, with the outcome being i want to stand out and have things that are my own that it becomes so hard for someone to be me. after addressing and realising this, i've now let go of that fear and that part of me. i'm much more kinder to the creation now when they ask me where something i have/am wearing is from and, as i feel much more peaceful inside, i tell them where it's from with genuineness and sincerity. doing this can help with so many internal behaviours like jealousy, anxiety, being unhappy when other people get something you want, anger, attachments to people, love etc.

shadow work helps me get rid of attachments to worldly things and people (as the ego gets attached easily) after understanding why i am / why i act in a certain way too

gratitude

gratitude journalling helps me be thankful to Allah for what he has done for me. in hardship, i'm able to recognise the good that i still have. i've written more about how this has helped my deen here.

writing my feelings when i'm angry and/or upset

helps me process my emotions better and not act on my feelings by being rude to others in the moment

prevents me from backbiting and gossiping bc i just journal about how people have made me feel. backbiting is when you slander someone behind their back to someone else. through journalling, if i'm upset, i can write down my feelings, i can call people losers and get it all out of my system because it's just to myself, no one will read it. after this, why do i need to go to someone else and gossip? i don't need to. i've already released it all.

yoga and pilates

the physical body, mind and soul are all linked. as shown in the book, 'the philosophy of the teachings of islam':

this means that exercising our body affects our mind and soul too. science has shown that trauma and stress is stored in the shoulders and other parts of our body. having movement and especially exercises like yoga that focuses on stretching, flexibility, breathing and regulating blood flow in the body releases this emotional baggage.

islam is a religion of discipline that requires effort. when you feel good inside, you're more likely to be more disciplined and put in the effort, as opposed to when you feel bad inside which can often lead to laziness and fatigue. doing yoga and releasing my stress through exercising and stretching helps me feel positive and good inside, enabling me to fulfil my religious duties better with a positive mind and body. in islam, maintaining physical health is highly encouraged and our Beloved Prophet ﷺ emphasised having a strong and healthy body.

[alavestineneas]

Glass and mirrors

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader summary: There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one. warnings: canon-typical violence, mentions of mental illness, narcissism, blonde men who need therapy, unhinged women, people in shitty relationships and toxic industries word count: 4.6k PART TWO IS HERE

author's note: Hello and welcome to our small community of people who have fallen victim to the charming (and evil) blonde man! This fic is heavily inspired by the edits of models that pop up on my ticktock feed every day. Shout out to them and the talented editors who bless my eyes with their creations. As for YN this time, prepare to be on quite a ride because she, surprise-surprise, is evil! In my head, there has to be at least one victor who feels no remorse at all; they can't all be morally good (and relatively sane) people. Also, the obsession with beauty in this fic is, in fact, intentional, so bear with me. Feel free to comment or insult the author in the comments, but only if you are creative with it. Enjoy and see you in part 2!

In all of her short childhood, she always loved mirrors. Her grandma used to joke about it with her old friends while they shared lunch at the factory: ''That empty-headed child wants to do nothing but stare at herself all day.'' The women would laugh, their raspy voices making the glid, already filled with toxic fumes to the brim, hotter. YN didn't mind; she would pretend not to hear them, clinging to the machinery in front of her instead. She would get out of here sooner or later, and she'd see whose laughter would be left echoing all through the narrow streets.

She wasn't born to rot in this place like these people were; YN was sure of that. Not with a face like hers, with manners she taught herself from the bright magic box in their cramped commune apartment, where a few times a year the government played the show. It was supposed to be a punishment, YN reminded herself each time, but it didn't look like one. She watched the children eat more food than she had seen in a month and then cry on the stage in front of millions. She wouldn't cry if she was there, that was for certain. People die every day here, but none of them get to dress up in the jewels provided by the wealthiest people she has ever seen.

It was funny how they had all the money in the world and still chose to dress so horribly. Mismatched fabrics and smudged colours on their faces, like the colours of the lake near her house—the factories polluted it with dyes, turning the water green, purple, and sometimes even pink. That's how she got her old grey dress to be such a pretty lavender colour. It didn't matter that everyone at school laughed at her, even Miss Kyla; she was horrendously ugly anyway, her hair resembling the colour of unwashed underwear. YN wore her dress with pride, mimicking the voice of the funny multicolour-haired man on the screen, chatting with long o's and a's.

That's how she ended up here, on the first floor of the newly renovated training centre, with a drink in her freshly manicured hand. She had two hours before her stylists would need her again—a time designated for sleep, which she apparently so greatly lacks. YN doesn't care; she went without sleep for much longer than two days. Instead, she does what she loves the most—turns on a shiny screen and watches the golden letters appear: the 15th Annual Hunger Games.

It starts with reaping, as always, but YN skips that part—she doesn't like seeing herself in those dirty rags, although, as papers would later state, ''nothing could make this girl ugly, even if a potato sack was put on her body.'' She likes interviews better. Luckily, the wait is not very long; soon enough, her favourite host pops up, his hair shimmering with sea green.

''And now, our dear viewers, I am more than pleased to announce our next tribute from District 1—please let her hear how excited we are to meet her!'' His voice booms through the theatre as the crowd erupts into applause.

YN moves gracefully, a beaming smile on her face matching that of a host. Her gloved hands wave at the supposed people in front of her as if they were guests at her birthday party. But most importantly, dress. The one she chose herself, arguing over it with her stylist for the last few hours, the one that fitted her perfectly. Capitol enough to appeal to the audience, district enough to highlight that she isn't one of them—she is something new, undiscovered, and worth keeping an eye on. It's almost not a dress at all—the sparkling, sheer fabric of beautiful white, with stars gathering at her chest and bottom to finish the ''almost naked'' look. And the crowd goes crazy for it. People shout, and the splashes of the cameras blinding her create a new melody that is so unfamiliar to YN's ears. Admiration. The thing she craved for so long.

''Alright, alright,'' Lucky Flickerman smiles, gesturing for the crowd to settle down. ''We don't want to scare her off now, do we?'' He turns to her, a microphone in hand. ''What's your name, sweetheart?''

''YN Y/L/N. And I am afraid you can't scare me off, no matter how hard you try. The thing is, I am here to stay,'' she jokes, cocking an eyebrow at the man beside her.

''Oh, how I love your confidence! Now tell me—we heard you are a volunteer—the first in the history of District 1! Are there any special ties to the girl who was supposed to stand here tonight, or what's going on?''

''Well, I was dying to see you in person, of course—no pun intended.''

Oh, there weren't any ties to the girl, or the boy, for that matter. No, YN simply wanted to go at her peak chance of winning—countless years of secret preparation in the factory; working a night shift after school and full days of weekends; hours of studying every plant and animal known to mankind—all to ensure that she wouldn't waste her chance like most kids here did.

''That's an honour coming from your lips; we are happy to see you in the Capitol, Miss Y/L/N. Since you came here by choice, what strategy are you planning on using in the arena? Maybe something tied to your district's craft?''

''If you promise to keep this between us, I'll confess—I will use my charms to make everyone fall in love with me and watch them fight by promising the winner a kiss—and then I will take it from there.'' YN turns to face the lights, staring directly into the camera for a few seconds. The crowd laughs once more, some going so far as to cheer and whistle in excitement. ''But in all honesty, I think I have a fair shot—I would win in a day if it meant the unlimited supply of those amazing cupcakes with sprinkles on top.''

''Well, in that case, you should definitely get a good rest this night—you are not the only one who got your eye on them! Ladies and gentlemen, prepare for the Cupcake Games tomorrow, and don't forget to sponsor this lovely girl right here if you want to see her win! And now, a short word from our sponsors.''

Cupcake jokes are still funny to her, even after two years, although she got sick of them a week after her victory and was just as sick of all the titles papers came up with to fit her into the candy girl box. It served her well, for which she is grateful; the sponsors did send her a shitton of things, although mostly useless.

Next is the introduction of everyone else; YN doesn't care to look at it for more than just a few seconds, speeding it up to maximum. It's boring to no end—how do Capitolees watch it every year with such excitement? She stops to look only when her face appears on the screen, covered in crimson blood.

She counted six canons when she finally stopped to take a breath in and look at her surroundings. That was about right, although YN didn't count how many times she pulled a knife out of somebody's still-warm body and lurched into another nearby. The sand soaked up the blood fast, she noticed, stepping over the pile of what used to be her competitors and walking towards the cone-shaped something. Nobody in sight—each one of the ''better'' kids is now dead without a chance to kill each other, to kill her, and ''others'' will die like flies under the hot sun of what looked like a desert. YN noticed that some even left behind the given jackets; she collected them before stepping into the Cornucopia, claiming them as her own. Not everyone grew up in hot factories, she thought to herself, so they have no chance of knowing how cold it gets at night.

YN doesn't like how the uniform looks on her; the T-shirt hangs around her frame too loosely. It's evident that she didn't eat enough back then, but it was tolerable. The dried blood looked worse; with her stoic face and eye colour, the streams looked too grotesque, almost unserious; it didn't fit the look she was going for. Her hands itch to wipe it before YN remembers that it's non-existent now—the girl on the screen is just a recording. She forwards a little more, looking for the commentary of the first night from the hosts—their excitement and praise never get old—but hears knocking at her door just as she is about to press play. YN glances at the clock—it's too early for the prep team, so it must be someone else—and turns off the TV just to be sure she heard it right.

When the knocking continues, she shouts a quick ''Come in,'' after checking her reflection on the now dark screen. ''Ah, Maggie!''

''How many times do I have to repeat that my name is Mags, not Maggie? Not Mags with fangs either, to be clear. Just Mags.''

''But everyone calls you that! And I want to be special,'' YN whines, laying back on the sofa.

It's Mags. YN likes Mags. Mags is the only girl besides her on the victors' list. Mags is the one who is always down to eat lunch together or to watch the new collection in the magazines. She is funny and down to earth, and, most importantly, Mags doesn't take bullshit from anyone.

''Even more special?'' Mags smiles, opening the fridge to look for something edible. There isn't much; they both know that YN would never eat something to ruin her figure. ''I saw your photoshoot on the street today. It's beautiful.''

''Thank you,'' YN smiles. She doesn't remember which one of her campaigns was supposed to air today, but it doesn't matter. ''Are you here for the promo again?''

The curly-haired woman nods, not looking up from the shelves. ''I hate it. I wish they would just leave me alone, so I can go home and forget about all of this.''

YN is always weirded out by such comments from Victor from 4 but never says anything. Not everyone was born to be in front of the camera; if that were the case, her talent wouldn't be so special anymore. ''It's our job, Maggie. They'll never leave us alone.''

''I know.'' Mags sighed, planting her body on the sofa beside her.

They are different, but YN thinks it's better that way. They are the same age, both 20, and that's about the only thing that ties them together. YN watches as her friend's chest rises and falls as she stares at the ceiling, her long, curly hair in some type of twist. YN would never style it like that, but Mags doesn't ask, so she stares at her in silence, trying her hardest not to compare them. She knows what type of conclusion will sparkle in her brain, but she doesn't want to admit it. Mags is her friend, her only good friend, so something inside YN fights hard to leave her alone. It's an unusual feeling, almost foreign, but YN wants to make an exception. She thinks Maggie deserves it.

''Are you okay?'' the woman asks her, finally snapping out of her trance. ''You are less talkative than usual.''

''Oh, yeah—just a little tired from work, that's it.''

Work. It's not the type of work people can really get tired from, and if anybody thinks otherwise, they never worked a day in District 1. Sometimes, YN can still feel the burning cloud of steam hitting her face when she closes her eyes. The work she does in Capitol is child's play—photoshoots, interviews, promotional campaigns, and runways. She is the only one with this kind of hectic schedule, the only one who is interesting enough for the general public to want to see her everywhere they go. Multiple shows a day wasn't uncommon; photoshoots until five a.m. were basically her usual routine; she did so many of them that she never remembered the brand name for more than an hour.

''Well, I hope I don't interrupt your me-time,'' Mags notes. ''Panem knows you need it. ''

''You worry too much about me. Better tell me about how life is in 4—anything new?''

There is probably nothing exciting, but it feels nice to listen to somebody talk with such love for their home as Mags does. It's also a great opportunity. YN catches every subtle expression and every movement of her friend with attentive eyes, making sure to parrot them later. She noticed from the recording today that her speech misses a certain effortlessness.

-

Curl and twist, curl and twist—YN has learned the pattern by now, sitting in front of the gigantic mirror, surrounded by a team of stylists. Hair, make-up, nails, and toes—five people work hand in hand for her to appear for two minutes on the long podium. The backstage is loud, and a lot is going on—last-minute changes, alterations, and quick touch-ups. YN doesn't bother to look around; she closes today like a face of the collection, and after she is done with this podium, the day is finally coming to an end.

''Oh, YN, darling, here you are!'' The bald man in his forties appears on the horizon of her peripheral vision, clasping his unnaturally white hands together. ''How are you doing, my little star? Anything you need?''

She is irritated to no end; her team booked seven shows for her today; she hadn't had anything to eat in the past six hours; and the loud music makes her head throb. But she doesn't voice any of that—nobody really wants to know how she is feeling.

Just like she guessed, the man doesn't wait for her response. ''There have been some changes in the order today, sweetheart. Jenovia will be closing today, and you will walk in her dress instead,'' the man says, turning to face her styling team. ''Change the hair to fit, and take off the blue in her make-up—it won't match. Good luck!''

''Do what he says,'' YN announces, her mouth twitching just a little. She is furious. To have that blonde bitch Jenovia walk in the best dress of the collection YN inspired? Over her dead body. Or, should she say, over Jenovia's? She will figure it out but do so later. Now there are only four girls before her, so she needs to be ready.

''Three, two, one! Go, go!'' the stage coordinator shouts, opening the curtain for her.

Right and left, hip and hand, followed by the strong clicking of her five-inch heels. The music is even louder here, with the beets vibrating through the runway and pouring into her bloodstream. She doesn't pay any attention to the glass floor underneath her. Surprisingly, her training before games helped her model more than one could guess. YN doesn't see anyone but the blinding lights lining the podium—not that she needs to see the hungry faces of the spectators. It doesn't matter what piece of fabric covers her body; they are looking at who wears it. Final pose at the centre—no smile is her go-to. Hold and turn is the golden rule.

''Here you are!'' One of the seamstresses grabs her hand, pulling her into a small, curtained space with countless clothes on racks. ''Calio wants you to hold a purse for the backstage photo and lose the belt. Where the fuck is the golden belt?'' she shouts, searching for one. ''Wait here; I'll go find it,'' she finally announces, running away before YN has the chance to suggest anything.

YN looks around, carefully moving the laying rags with her foot. She mentally goes over the outfits labelled with names, rating them one by one, until her eyes stop on the white dress. The closing dress, the one she was supposed to model. Underneath it are velvety black high boots.

The idea comes to her mind quickly: she steals a needle from the nearby table and carefully places it inside the shoes, making sure it looks like an accident.

''Finally,'' the woman returns with a belt in her hands, oblivious to YN's half-smile. ''Put it on and go; they are already waiting.''

''Of course, thanks.''

YN isn't sure how much time has passed before she hears a scream, standing up from her place in the corner with a blanket around her exposed shoulders. Surely enough, Jenovia is on the floor, crying crocodile tears—a needle inside her heel deep enough to make a few of the girls around her gag.

''What the fuck happened?'' It's Calio, the boss here; he was ordering her around before.

''I don't know,'' all the blonde girl can manage before bursting into tears one more time.

''Well, can you walk?'' he asks, kneeling to take a look.

''No,'' Jenovia whispers, her hand holding her bloodied foot.

The bald man sighed, more annoyed than concerned. ''We need a replacement. You,'' he points at YN. ''Take it off and change into the dress. Quick!''

YN does what she is told in no time; she doesn't want to wait until Jenovia suddenly gets better or the man finds a better-suited girl to close. After a few minutes, she is almost ready; she only needs the lipstick to finish it off.

''We don't have time!'' the man roars, dragging her to the exit. ''Here!'' He puffs out her hair and adjusts the layers of fake pearls covering her neck. ''Three, two, one! Go, fucking go!''

And go she does. A few steps on the runway, and she discovers that lipstick is still in her hands. YN puts it in the pocket of the enormously large black coat that hides the gorgeous white dress underneath. Step after step, her long black boots draw patterns on the glass. She will have no choice but to buy them; YN doesn't care if it's stupid. They helped her, so she will have them.

It's time for the final pose: YN takes out the lipstick from her pocket and applies it with two swift motions, blowing a kiss to the camera. It will definitely be a hit with the photographers. YN throws one last look before turning around and returning to the curtained exit. On her way back, when the lights lower to follow her back, she can see a little clearer. In the sea of vibrant hair colours and clothes, the platinum-blonde hair and a simple black suit stood out too much not to notice. There is only one person who could afford to look so simple—YN knows it. An opportunity of a lifetime.

She makes another stop in the middle of the podium, right in front of his seat. The coat slides off her shoulders effortlessly, and YN catches it just when the fabric is about to hit the floor. The crowd goes crazy, clapping and whistling at her tricks, but YN has no wish to entertain them any further. YN pauses for a moment, her eyes meeting icy-blue ones, before turning away and finishing the show. There is one thing the world needs to know about her: she didn't become a star overnight. She was born to be one.

-

Since the last show, she has done fifteen more—day after day, opening and closing. Her little trick got her where she wanted to be, with more money than one person could need in a lifetime and nowhere to spend it. Even now, standing in the long hallway of the training centre, she wears nothing she bought herself; all are gifted, sent, or handed by the adoring fans. Like a rag doll, with no say in how she looks or what she does, YN hears everyone say that it was ''a price of fame''. She doesn't think so; she was told what to do long before she tasted real butter on her toast.

The sliding door to her apartment moves almost without noise. While most victors complain that the lock system reminds them of prison, YN is grateful to have it. The thought of some crazy fanatic waiting for her in the dark isn't the most pleasant one. The designer bag finds its place on the floor, soon joined by the coat—room service will clean it up later. The heels slide off her feet quickly, leaving bloodied marks on her skin, but YN doesn't care enough to do something about them.

''Forgive me for joining you without an invitation.''

YN turns around, her hands grabbing the keys in her hands tighter. She mentally goes over her means of escape or fight—a mirror could easily be broken and used as a weapon; if necessary, she could also grab a nearby ottoman. The man in the chair doesn't look too impressed with her thought process. His lips curve into a smile, blue eyes staring at her with undivided attention. A suit, not very different from the one he wore at her show, was a deep brown colour.

''Mister President,'' YN breathes out, lowering her hand.

Coriolanus Snow. Light, almost white hair frames his face like a halo, with his suit hugging his waist just enough to highlight the broad shoulders. YN saw him on TV a couple of times, but seeing him in person was something entirely different. It's like the air shifts around him and changes with his presence.

''I believe we met before,'' he humours her, his eyes shining with mischief.

The light knocking on the door doesn't leave YN any time to answer. She presses a button near it, fixing her hair before opening it. YN tries to look as composed as possible without betraying her nerves—why was he here? ''Yes?''

''The dinner, Ma'am.'' the room service declares, pushing a cart in front of her.

YN nods, even though she didn't order one. ''Leave it here,'' she says, gesturing to the place nearby. When the door closes and she is alone with the man in her room again, her heart skips a beat.

''I took the liberty of ordering; I hope you don't mind.''

Even if she did, she knew better than to say anything. Instead, YN watched as the man stood up and took the dishes from the cart, placing them on the coffee table, before turning to her once more.

''Please, have a seat.''

She does what she is told, sitting down on her king-sized bed—the chair is already taken by him—and waits for the blonde man to start speaking. He doesn't right away, choosing to pour a glass of wine for her and himself.

YN watches the dark liquor pour into the glass, swirling with each drop. She isn't hungry—she rarely was—and the soup he ordered looks more like vomit than a dish, but she still takes the spoon and carefully places it into her mouth. Her lipstick stains the silverware with colour, leaving a small circle right at the end—that's when the man finally decides to speak.

''Dare I say I am a huge fan of your work ethic? Everyone who I've spoken to is very satisfied with your,'' he pauses, searching for the fitting word, ''dedication .''

''Thank you, Mister President,'' YN replies with a polite smile before returning to her soup. She watches him only from the corner of her eye. The way he cuts his steak with his ringed fingers and the way he places a small bite in his mouth before his lips close. There is a subtle roughness in his movements, a power play of some sort.

He catches her gaze and, for a moment, is silent. ''You probably wonder why I am here in the first place, outside of the amazing steak they cook here, of course. The thing is, Miss Y/L/N, that you are popular not only with the general public but with people higher in power as well. One may even say they fell in love with the way you present yourself.''

''I am pleased to know that, Mr. President, but I am only doing my job as a victor.''

''Then you will understand the weight of my dilemma. Those people who have served Panem all their lives faithfully usually don't ask for much recognition; they work because they want to build a better future for all of us. So, when they do ask for a small favour or two, I am more than happy to satisfy them. But recently, all they ask for is you .''

''I believe I don't quite understand. They want to meet me?''

''You can phrase it like that, yes. For a night or two, of course, with all expenses covered.''

It's heavy, the understanding of what Mister President really implies. The thought of someone's hand roaming her body brings her dinner up YN's throat. ''Why?'' Her voice is shakier than she would like, but she is more focused on composing the rising anger than noticing it.

''I am sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but I am afraid there is nothing I can do; I am greatly outnumbered. Unless,'' he starts but doesn't finish his sentence.

''Unless what?''

''Unless you are seen with me.''

His piercing blue eyes look at her, but there is nothing in them. Her chances are limited, and he knows it. There is something rogue in him beneath the veil of chivalry he offers. YN smiles at him. That's what this whole charade was about—he wants her. Coriolanus Snow, the most powerful man in the whole world, wants her.

''Of course, Mr. President. That's very generous of you.''

''Mister President is too official, don't you think, Miss Y/L/N? Perhaps we could find a more informal way of addressing each other?''

''Informal?'' YN asks, tilting her head to the side. If he wants her, he'll get her. ''What about Mister Snow?'' The buttons on her shirt are easy to manage—a few quick motions, and it slides off her shoulders onto the cream cover. ''Or, Sir Coriolanus?'' The pants are a little trickier, but YN learned that backstage, every second counts, so they soon also pool around her heels, the fabric hitting the floor with a slight thud.

The blonde man watches her intently, his eyes following every move of her hands. His legs are still spread wide on the lime-green chair as he slightly leans back. YN can't tell if he is enjoying her antics or not, but frankly, she doesn't care; she is enjoying it.  The way her shadow dances on the wall, the way the air shifts in the huge room, transforming it into a tiny stage. YN looks at him with mischief, with superiority, even. After all, she is the show here. Why not let Mr. Savior think it is for him?

''Come, Mister Snow,'' she says, throwing it in his face like a bone to the dog.

He doesn't have the haste to join her; on the contrary, he stands up painfully slowly. His tall figure almost seems to stretch as he raises, covering the floor lamp behind him fully. When he finally circles the table to stand above her, his presence is overwhelming. YN lets him stand between her legs, his unusually cold hand on her thigh.

''I prefer Coriolanus,'' he whispers in her ear, lowering himself enough to touch her ear with his velvety lips. He pulls away slightly, planting a kiss on her cheek instead. ''Have a most pleasant night, Miss Y/L/N.''

And then he walks away. YN watches as his figure disappears behind the sliding door before she lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her gaze instinctively finds her reflection in the nearby mirror; there is no reason to shine if no one watches her.

[dazed--xx]

Cardinal (Series Preview)

Series Summary: If there was one thing God could say he’s ever regretted creating he’d explain there were 8. The 8 Evil Thoughts. Vainglory, Avarice, Gluttony, Wrath, Lust, Pride, Envy, and Sloth are currently spending their exile living it up in the mortal world; spreading their sins into Gods most beloved creations so with determination in his heart he sends for the only things that can stop them….Their Virtues The Humility twins, Generosity, Temperance, Love, Chastity, Kindness, and Perseverance. Join them on a journey through morality, obsession, and temptation in Cardinal….

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Demon Au!

TW: YANDERE, Demon AU!, Cardinal Sins, Themes of Catholicism, mentions of religion, mentions of God, Blastphemy, smut, use of demonic powers, non-con (in some parts), more to be added as each part is posted.

A/N: So I’m officially off Hiatus 👋 so HIYA but I’ve been inspired for this for a while and I have been obsessed with the seven deadly sins since my theology class in high school and just now thought to write something about them but I’m super excited about this and I hope you guys will be too. Also anyone that has requested something your requests will be posted before this series and before one more time chapter 2 so keep an eye out cause I’m probably going to start posting those this week or next week anyway hope you enjoy the preview.

Bang Chan: coming soon

Vainglory; the sin or vice of one who immoderately desires renown, prestige, or the praise and respect of others. The desire of these things is not necessarily sinful but becomes so when it is immoderate and disordered.

Virtue: Humility

Summary: Belial, now reborn as Bang Chan as punishment for his most cardinal sin is happy with his prosperity as the CEO of Stay corporation. His employees worship the ground he walks on; his word holds more weight than almost anyone in all of South Korea, that is until a familiar foe threatens to take everything he’s built away. Now, Chan must face his largest feat yet…corrupting his virtue, Humility.

Minho: coming soon…

Avarice; an insatiable desire to gain and hoard wealth. It's similar to greed but goes even further, encompassing such things as selfishness, entitlement, materialism, consumerism, and hoarding.

Virtue: Generosity

Summary: Mammon, now cast away living his life disguised as mortal Lee Minho enjoys his days as the COO of Stay Corporation. From his many houses to the collections of automobiles he adores his cardinal sin. He indulges in his wealth, power and fornication as he so pleases bringing chaos to rain free wherever he so chooses until he’s faced with whom he only thought a myth…his virtue, Generosity.

Changbin: coming soon…

Gluttony; the over-indulgence or lack of self-restraint in food, drink, or wealth items, especially as status tokens.

Virtue: Temperance

Summary: Beelzebub, spends his days as Seo Changbin a world-renowned chef, wandering the cityscape bouncing from each flamboyant club to elegant restaurant he sets his sights on. He’d spend those days if it weren’t for the thorn in his side his virtue Temperance, a feisty archangel with a knack for ruining his fun he makes it his mission to corrupt the virtue and be the first of the sins to create a fallen angel.

Hyunjin: coming soon…

wrath; the inordinate and uncontrolled feeling of hatred and anger

Virtue: love or charity

Summary: Satan, now trapped in his mortal form Hwang Hyunjin by God due to his cardinal sins is forced to spend his eternity with his virtue, Love at his hip in every waking moment. He finds her mysterious call to his mind and heart infuriating as it drives him wild with wrath and infatuation. When he loses his ability to sense her presence everything is flipped into a world of Chaos, disparity and Wrath in which he did not cause. So, with a blood oath he sets out to locate his other half and destroy those that stolen her away from him.

Jisung: Coming soon…

Lust; defined as immoral because its object or action of affection is improperly ordered according to natural law or the appetite for the particular object (eg sexual desire) is governing the person's will and intellect rather than the will and intellect governing the appetite for that object.

Virtue: chastity

Summary: Asmodeus, now Han Jisung, a Has corrupted the strongest willed priests and popes in history. His love for his cardinal sin has him sharing the euphoria with almost every mortal he meets, that is until he comes face to face with his virtue, Chastity; the embodiment of everything he couldn’t have cast away by his own hands at the turn of the century. Her influence reaching a select few in his favorite personal hell. Vowing to show the object of his affection the true lengths Lust and absolute pleasure can take you; he embarks on a journey of fornication, heartbreak and persuasion.

Felix: coming soon…

pride; excessive belief in one's own abilities, that interferes with the individual's recognition of the grace of God.

Virtue: humility

Summary: Lucifer, hates his exile as Lee Felix under the demon Belial. He was far more intelligent than his current supervisor, he loathed his deity and their fear of anyone having a mind. He spent his days in a bore, missing his time in heaven he spends his days with visions of the precious virtue, Humility. He admonishes those that blindly follow their predestination, he detests his creator for condemning him to walk amongst these…. creatures that is until his twin brother presents him with a deal find and seal his beloved's fate…...corrupt her and get back into heaven.

Seungmin: coming soon….

Envy; sin of jealousy over the blessings and achievements of others

Virtue: kindness

Summary: Leviathan, lives his life as Kim Seungmin resenting his fellow keepers of the sins. They’re virtuous extravagant lifestyles to their most wildest dreams being fulfilled. While he had to stand there and watch, watch as the pesky humans around him found their way, watch as his brethren became successful in both hell and the mortal world. The Demon kings names bringing an icy chill up their spines at the power and influence they possess; if a demon king sets his sights on you, your soul becomes tainted with their sin until it eats the being alive and sends your soul straight to hell. He hates as his sin is the one full of disgust and had such a bad wrap, envy is what built civilization itself yet they worship Belial and the wretched deity that cursed himself, that is until he is greeted with something he’d never experienced before his virtue….Kindness

Jeongin: coming soon…

Sloth: a spiritual or emotional apathy, neglecting what God has spoken, and being physically and emotionally inactive. It can also be either an outright refusal or merely a carelessness in the performance of one's obligations, especially spiritual, moral or legal obligations.

Virtue: perseverance

Summary: Belphegor, enjoys his days as Yang Jeongin, the laid back neglectful floor manager of Stay Corporation. If you were to ask any of the mortal employees under his leadership they would say he was always at work but he was rarely ever working. His reputation was a positive one despite his hidden identity, he enjoyed watching as his floor scrambled to get report’s together for meetings he’d never mentioned until the day before. He adored sprinkling small bits of his sin around the office and watching as the floor became bored, underachieving and understandably tired. The only thing he would say he’d enjoy a change with is one particular little itty bitty thorn in his side; the one thing that he cannot stand more than actual work that sat right outside his office. His virtue….Perseverance.

[creativemessbyvd]

FIC IDEA VAULT #17 - RadioApple Hercules AU

@fanby-fckry is an enabler XD Their post about their idea for a Little Mermaid AU forced my hand to actually write down this idea! Originally I had the inspiration from this Tiktok!

So, this is an inspired by Disney's Hercules AU, we will follow cannon for season 1 loosely and then we take off from there, and yes, the tiktok scene will be there! I have lots of ideas already down, including a general idea of how each chapter will go. So far, aiming for 8 (?) chapters, which will have not only Alastor's POV but also Lucifer's and others as they become relevant. I want to incorporate the ideas I already have for my own Hellaverse (which I will also use for my Alastor centric fic) which include the Sins being ride or dies for Lucifer, Roo as the main villain, lots of bonding amongst the cast and some cameos by the Helluva Boss crew! I don't plan to make this be straight romance, I want them to be friends first before Alastor starts caring more for Luci, and I'm also trying to keep him as faithful as I can be to his Ace Identity (which is a spectrum! Please, no harrasment over this, but if anyone would like to help me out to make sure I don't screw Al or offend anyone, please let me know! I would really appreciate the help!)

I am swarmed by work, and this has been the worst week for me in a while, I can feel the depressing thoughts around, but talking about my aus, or any of my fandoms always helps! I hope to work on this and publish soon, but I do want to have some chapter written before posting to Ao3. So, without further ado, I leave you with the main summary and two snippets from chapter one! I'm sorry for the errors, I will fix them up for publishin the full story on Ao3! Enjoy!

At least out loud, I won't say I'm in love (Hercules Radioapple AU) by Vesta Dragon

Tasked with getting closer to the King of Hell after the last extermination, Alastor the Radio Demon tries his best to show the king the attention which is plain to see the fallen angel craves. But as they spend time getting to know each other in the most antagonistic and less romantic way possible for Alastor's peace of mind, he finds his mission shifting when shown what a capable ruler Lucifer can be, alongside his softer side that still shows the angel he never stopped being. Lucifer knows that getting along with Alastor will keep Charlie happy, and keep one less headache away from him as he takes the reigns of his kingdom back with the help of his closest friend, Satan, who is now on a mission to make sure both him and Charlie are in top shape for any upcoming battle Heaven will surely start. His heart will be his doom, as he feels himself growing closer to Alastor, but will their love be enough to stop the threat lurking far below Hell? Or will her millennia-old plans finally come to fruition, so the Root of All Evil can finally rule it all as the planets align?

Chapter One Teaser under the cut!

God was created to bring balance to the Universe, and he in turn created Angels, his first and most beloved was Lucifer Morningstar… The story of the Garden of Eden is one I'm sure you are all familiar with, but what you probably didn't know was that it skipped over a lot of details. Lucifer always thought that keeping Humans always happy and in the dark, meant they would never get to their full potential. He befriended Lilith, the first Woman, and they fell into a quick and deep love.

Charlie Morningstar was interrrupted by the loud entrance of Angel Dust, the spider demon carrying around a cooler from which he passed around beverages to the visitors sitting in front of the princess in the Hotel's second entertainment room.

"Boooooriiiiing! Charlie, I swear if you tell us the detailed history of all of creation, I'm taking everyone on a tour of my favorite clubs!"

Finished with his task, he took the main couch, sitting for once, not splayed out but definitely confidently enough that it drew some curious eyes, though they quickly turned away as he swept his gaze around. He took from the cooler two extra waters and passed one to Charlie, who accepted despite looking scandalized at his suggestion.

"Angel, you wouldn't dare!" "Oh, but I would! Who wants to go dancing?" At the raised (albeit nervous) hands that went up, he smirked at the princess who huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Well, what's wrong with giving them all the details?" Charlie shuddered to think were her charges would end up, so she admited that maybe her story would need to be told differently than to how she prefered to remember it. "For one, it would take us way too fucking long to go over everything. Let's go for the more fun version! You gotta know when to give the right details." He made sure to wink at a couple of people, the majority laughing as he riled the princess up.

"We are not sharing anything explicit!" That would be worse than the clubs, as she was about to continue her point, she was interrupted again.

"Is Charlie going to tell the Story? I wanna help!" Nifty had jumped from behind the couch Angel sat at, no one having heard her skittering around until she had made herself known. She proceeded to jump over the couch, landing on Angel and kicking him slightly before settling in beside him.

"Ouch, Nifty! Careful with my arms!"

"Hehe, sorry Angel!"

"Oh, this will be fun." Vaggie had come due to all the shouting, wanting to make sure everyone was being civil. She had known Charlie had plans to share the story, and she was glad she wasn't the only one who knew the princess had to be watched so avoid her rambling to their guests for 5 hours. She loved her, but she knew Charlie tended to go overboard, especially with this.

"Hi sweetie! Come sit here with me, we can share the loveseat." Charlie relaxed upon seeing Vaggie, and made sure to give her a kiss as soon as the fallen angel sat down beside her.

"Can you two stop with the lovey-dovey public displays, let me get my coffee in first." Yet another interrupting, this time from the resident bartender, who was carrying two takeout cups of coffee, one of which he gave to Angel, despite Nifty's attempts to snag it.

"Husk, I'm surprised that you aren't drinking a beer." Vaggie smirked, knowing that usually, the stoic bartender tended to leave the tours to the others and kept to the quiet of the bar. But it was obvious why he had come, as Angel patted his legs.

"Oooh Husky, my lap is open if you want a seat."

"I'll take the floor, otherwise we won't get to the end of the story."

"C'mon you two! Seriously?!" Vaggie was infurated now, she had hoped they had at least some decurum to save it for after the tour was done.

"I meant he would loose circulation on his legs, I ain't as light as Nifty over there." Husk laughed softly, winking at Angel as he took a seat between his legs on the floor.

"Can I sit on your lap, Angel?"

"Sure, Nift."

"Oooooookaaaay, is everyone settled? Can I continue?" Charlie was more aware now of the time constraints, but she was glad to have the company. It was always more enjoyable to have the story be told with input from everyone.

"Yes, but keep it light on the start, we want to get to the good part this century!"

After their fall from Heaven and Earth, Lilith and Lucifer began working on making their prison more comfortable. As others, like the Sins and the Ars Goetia, slowly filled Hell, as they newly appointed King and Queen, they held a party. And someone new arrived to them. She was lovely, yet she was no former angel. Her power left everyone speechless. Her name was Roo. She welcomed everyone, but especially the new King. She had seen it all, and she had to thank him for letting her be born. She was evil personified and she had a proposition. She could help them get revenge upon eveyone who had forsaken them. And while some saw this as a great opportunity, Lucifer refused.

"Fighting Heaven will bring us nothing! I prefer to make the best of this here, were I have my freedom, despite being in my own prison. Let them deal with it all, I thank you for the consideration, but it would be foolish for us to go to war when we know we will lose." Roo smiled, she tried again to entice him, but he wouldn't move. His powers, which he knew she craved, he would not give her. Roo bid them farewell, making sure they knew she could be found at the deepest part, where the river of souls ran, if they ever changed their minds.

She returned to her domain, deep into Hell, to the parts that no one had ever ventured to. She stood now in her home, a castle of darkness that towered over everything. She climbed until she came to her work room, on its center a stone basin filled with a clear swirling liquid. From it she could see the present, past and future. She had used this to her advantage to make sure her influence had sparked the first sin of man. The free will of the humans meant that she now was present up on Earth, but it also crippled her once vast power. Her future vision would never be as it once was, nor could she force the fallen who now ruled Hell to make her biding. She needed more if she was to wreck havoc as she was promised, gazing into the hazy future in which she ruled it all. She could be patient, someday she would have her revenge.

| Line break |

Alastor the Radio Demon could tell that he was utterly fucked, and he could count on one hand his whole life's (and afterlife's) regrets. Babysitting an overexcited and touchy princess and her entourage was something he deeply regretted, as he watched Vaggie run around trying to film the Hotel an annoying television commercial. He honestly thought his own was pretty favorable, but the Princess thought otherwise. As she went to her meeting, her girlfriend now scrambled to put something together with no experience. He could let her keep on trying, ultimately failing but he needed to keep the Princess as happy as possible, and this was something he would have to endure.

After all of that work only for the commercial to be cut off to the news that Heaven was going to come back earlier? He knew his boss was laughing at him. The next few months brought little change. After this, he saw Charlie welcome in another patron, Sir Pentious had tried to be a thorn at Alastor's side, but like the television demon he took orders from, neither could actually cause any harm; like a toy knife, both were only mildly threatening in appearance. His meeting with the Overlords helped him be closer to his end goal. The months flew by, and still, nothing was going the Princess' way, and she was forced to call her father.

And Lucifer Morningstar ended up coming. To HIS HOTEL. The former Angel went so far as to compare him to a bellhop and Alastor was so close to unleashing everything on the pompous asshole. Thankfully, he managed to take his anger out on the loan sharks Mimzy brought, but he still had to dismiss her, more forcefully than he would have if he hadn't already been so on edge. He was fuming by the end of the day, not only had he been humiliated by Lucifer, Husk knew of him being on a leash, and Heaven would soon come. He unleashed his anger once in his room, thankful for the small mercy that his room opened into his own private bayou and no one would be aware of his (frankly childish) tantrum, and suddenly he felt it in the sudden stillness of the air, and deep among the trees, the one who owned his sould appeared.

Roo was not that taller than Charlie, yet the front was just to spite him. he knew, seeing he still towered over her but she held all the power to bring him to his knees, like she did now.

"Alastor, sweetheart! Interesting day?" She sat on a tree stump that formed into a throne. Alastor hated every minute of it but he obediently knelt by her feet, levelling her with his worst glare.

"Roo, you said he wouldn't leave his isolated hole." She laughed and smiled almost as wide as him.

"I said he wouldn't come out without proper reason, Charlotte finally reaching out to him I guess gave him the strength to try for the first time in years." She was looking at her nails, utterly unbothered by this. Her ability to see aspects of the future irked him when she kept information like this from him.

"The fucking Devil will unravel everything I have worked for here." He seethed but Roo just laughed, a shrill sound that hurt his sensitive ears.

"Oh, Al, don't be so pessimistic, darling. I need you to trust me." She reached out to take his face in her hand, squishing as he growled, static becoming more prominent around him. "This is needed, taking out that pompous asshole up in Heaven will leave my darling Lilith in the perfect spot to worm her way in, you have to trust me."

"Charlie will draw a target on her back if she goes to Heaven, and it will lead the Hotel to be in danger." All his hard work, gone if Adam himself lead the charge to the Hotel.

"Well, that's why you are here, correct? Al, trust me, everything is going according to plan. Make sure to use our little golden ticket to make a deal with the Princess, I will need her to complete my plan." He avoided yelping in pain as she dug her fingers into his face, her other hand making sure to spread his smile wider, to the point it hurt more than usual. Her tone grew dark, and suddenly Alastor could feel the chain around his neck tighten as her voice echoed everywhere in the bayou. "And don't lose your temper with Lucifer again, I don't have the time to get another puppet if he decides to smite you."

With that, she threw him to the floor and as soon as his head had stopped spinning, he looked up to find her gone.

[xtarotdollx]

Attempting one of those long ass literary analysis posts because my friends have told me I should please enjoy this long ass ramble

Okay so like Jekyll creating Hyde is itself a crime right? Like it is it’s a horrifying event filled with body horror and pain like Jekyll creating the potion and creating Hyde is an objectively Bad Thing ™ but like why??? Jekylls motivations for doing so are both sympathetic and relatable (and intentionally so) so why are his actions considered the literal original sin of his story?? Anyway I was bored and fucked around and found an answer and I need to share it because fuck me I can’t be normal about Jekyll.

Anyway review time our buddy Jekyll is sad gay and alone and comes to the conclusion that people contain multitudes. And I say multitudes because Jekyll himself admits in his own research that there’s more to his theory and than just good and evil,

“I say two, because the state of my knowledge does not pass beyond that point.”

“… I hazard guess that man will be ultimately known for a mere polity of multifarious, incongruous, and independent denizens.”

and that he splits himself into good and evil because that’s what he’s most familiar with (aka it’s the split that he can use for his own benefit.) But like, homeboy was kinda on to something. The idea that humans are complex and multifaceted with multiple conflicting ideas and identities has been a thing across psychology and even whole cultures for like forever, and considering that Jekyll and Hyde was written around and about the the creation of the psychology as a scientific field, Jekyll is has (for lack of a better word) discovered something very profound, important, and massively influential to the world around him. And positivity influential to!! It’s that iconic quote “if each could be housed in different Identities, the world would be relieved of all that is unbearable” I think he’s getting ahead of himself here and kinda self projecting but there is very real truth to the idea that studying the difference facets of human identity could improve people and society. And even if he’s dead fucking wrong still putting out the information would end up benefiting societies collective knowledge. Kinda like how Freud was so influential to psychology because some of his theories were so buck wild and wrong that people had to come and correct him, widening the scientific field as a whole.

And Jekyll doesn’t do that. This life altering information is kept to himself, for his own personal use, benefit, and pleasure. And that’s so fucking wild and horrific for so many fucking reasons. Like it goes against so many rules of behavior it’s FOUL. First of the selfishness and gate keeping is inherently just cruel, but this man is a DOCTOR, and a SCIENTIST. This motherfucker took an OATH BEFORE GOD to provide the best care to the people, and now that care, or at least information that could lead to better care, is being squandered for personal gain. That’s fucked. That’s criminal activity right there.

But also I dare you to find me a scientist that doesn’t want to share their research and passion THERE IS NONE. I may be basing this analysis off of a stereotype but I believe it’s a stereotype based in reality but isn’t this the very thing people who go into fields of science and research do??? Like, they are unified by their desire to explore and SHARE knowledge??? Even if like the Jekyll wasn’t a professional doctor with his Hippocratic oath just doing things for shits and giggles, how is the goal not to tell people about this?? This doctor isn’t doctoring the way doctors should. Jekyll keeping his discoveries to himself is also just borderline non human behavior to me because who actually in real life does that. Again how is the end goal not to share this discovery? Humans are social creatures we want to share things. Swapping stories around a campfire is like the oldest human tradition ever. If you’re out in the woods and see a cool frog the immediate reaction is to call your friends over to look, or take a picture, or something similar. WHEN I THINK OF NEW WAYS TO VIEW AND INTERPRET JEKYLL ANS HYDE, THE IMMEDIATE THOUGHT IS TO SHARE IT WITH MY FRIENDS. I cannot FATHOM how secrecy is Jekyll’s immediate desire as a fellow human who lives on this earth.

And this actually slots in with really well with Jekyll and Hyde as a social critique of the upper class. Keeping super important info to yourself is NOT a human activity in any capacity, but it is an institutional one. The best thing I can think of to describe and compare it to is oil companies history of actively suppressing information about climate change to stay in business. It’s a modern example but I feel so deeply that there is an 1800s equivalent that I just can’t think of or don’t know in this moment. But the point is, Jekyll isn’t a person (metaphorically speaking), he’s a institution of wealth and power doing what large institutions do best, profiting off of the the control and suppression of the people below them, in this case the control of information.

But of course, Jekyll literally speaking, is a person. He’s just some guy, and seeing a very very human character act without any human instinct so casually is freaky and 10/10 horror. Jekyll’s creation of Hyde isn’t a crime or a sin because Hyde is an evil thing that will do evil things, it’s horrifying because Jekyll’s choice to do so is inhumane in every definition of the word thank you for coming to my TedTalk have a nice day

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

In terms of personality, in addition to being a master manipulator, I see Roo as being evil for the hell of it (pun very much intended). She does have higher goals when it comes to spreading her influence throughout creation, but for the most part she just does whatever amuses her, no matter how depraved or cruel. She can keep her sadism in check when it isn't to her benefit to indulge, but if she can get away with it she'll do everything she can to rooin your life (I'll stop punning after that one) in the worst way she can think of. I also think she enjoys toying with her foes/victims and dragging out their suffering for as long as possible and being chatty with them all throughout. Similar to Alastor in a way, but lacking his nuance and standards.

Given how she's been set up as the Endgame villain for Hazbin, I feel like this would make her a perfect antithesis for Charlie. While Charlie is a classic all-loving heroine who gives hope and second chances to those willing to accept it like Halloween candy simply to make life in Hell happier, Roo is a classic card-carrying villain who enjoys crushing hopes and dreams under her heel for sh*ts and giggles while only caring about fulfilling her vices and goals.

This interpretation could be wrong but until she appears in person to disprove it, that's my take on the Root of Evils character.

Greetings again,

Please keep going with puns. I'm a sucker for puns and dad jokes even if they do make me face palm and cringe.

I agree full heartedly. It's how I imagine Roo. I basically imagine her being a near carbon copy of Eris from the Dreamworks Sinbad movie. Or at least, what I remember from it. It's been like 10-15 years since I watched it.

I remember being mesmerized by her animation movements. She moved like smoke and shadow...which seem on par what Roo will turn out to me. And very flowy hair that move like she was moving around underwater.

She Is the goddess of chaos and discord. Now, that's not inherently evil but Its how Imagine our ROOt of all evil will strive and relish in.

Eris in Sinbad from what I remember, was a relatively calm and collective carefree person who was like 3-5 steps ahead of the protagonist. Her life wasn't going to be ruined when Sinbad ultimately ruined her plans. She's a damn goddess. So its not like she stressed out about her little plans. Her creating chaos was just fun and games. The mortals were her play things to be entertained with. She set the scene and watch them played it out. She had a prefered ending but at the end of the day, the events didn't really affect her.

I imagine Roo be similar. Except I think Roo does have an objective/end goal she trying to reach. I think something is restraining her to be a real player to do so, so she force to have agents to act out her will that will free her *cough couch ALASTOR couch*....or something similar.

Eris is She was manipulative, cunning, intimating, and alluring. She just tricks people to do her bidding to make the world into chaos and just enjoys the discord of it all. Which is something I see Roo doing.

*Side note: I think Roo will have seem and look mysterious and alluring for people to be tempted towards the path of evil.

Also Eris in the end, kept her promise to Sinbad when she lost. Which seem on par what Roo would do with how deals work in Hazbin. So essentially, when I talk about Roo, I have my memory from 10 years ago of Eris in mind of what Roo would be like. Both being an ancient deity of chaos for the thrill of it while keeping their words and moving around like shadowy smoke.

However, Roo probably be crueler than dreamworks Eris for the fact that...family movie vs adult cartoon. Roo causing pain, harm and suffering on her own whims which wasn't something we witness with Eris.

I also think she enjoys toying with her foes/victims and dragging out their suffering for as long as possible and being chatty with them all throughout. Similar to Alastor in a way, but lacking his nuance and standards.

This is exactly why I think Alastor is bond to her. They are too similar. I believe it was Roo that sought Alastor out and struck a deal. He enjoys what he does without remorse. Killing and riling people up for fun and entertainment. But unlike most manic killers, Alastor can also work discreetly. Subtle and and careful plant seeds that would grow into chaos.

I also just really love the idea Alastor think redemption is unachievable for him. Beside him being bored out of his mind in Heaven so he wouldn't want to seek redemption. But he also think the options is complete out of his grasp as he literal an extension of the embodiment of evil as he is a servant of her will.

Given how she's been set up as the Endgame villain for Hazbin, I feel like this would make her a perfect antithesis for Charlie. While Charlie is a classic all-loving heroine who gives hope and second chances to those willing to accept it like Halloween candy simply to make life in Hell happier, Roo is a classic card-carrying villain who enjoys crushing hopes and dreams under her heel for sh*ts and giggles while only caring about fulfilling her vices and goals.

It would be interesting how Charlie would want to deal with her. She believes everyone deserve a second chance and wouldn't want to go against that principle. Charlie will definitely be going through some type of change. It may not be necessarily good either. I would hate to see sunshine and rainbow princess having to lose that and lose herself and principles to do what is necessary. I mean, who isn't a sucker for good over evil. But Charlie may have to go through...well not really go through a villian arc...but less...heroic arc? Take off the rose tinted glasses and learn hard lessons? who knows. The hard lesson probably involved Alastor sudden but inevitable betrayal by being Roo servant and enacting her will.

What I'm curious on is if they make Roo multileveled and dimensional. Because I am viewing Roo like Eris...but Eris is very one dimensional villain. There's no backstory or origin. She a goddess of chaos from the start of creation I suppose. Her only purpose and motivation is to create chaos and discord. For their own entertainment. Which all see very Roo qualities.

But...I won't oppose or complain if Roo is like that and nothing more. But I would be more appreciative if the creator can someone make Roo more then one dimensional. That there is some type of backstory. Some type of motivation and purpose...beside "for funsies and entertainment"

And I think we might have a dribble of something. Because I do Roo has motive to extend her reach of evil. Her backstory develop watching millenia of humans and their good and evil. I'm sure theres something there to work with I'm just not exactly sure what.

It would be interesting if the creators can somehow twist the ROOt of evil-evil incarnate to be a halfway decent person like the other sinners and Sins we get to witness. which is pretty much what the shows about.

The sinners are not great people but they still have heart and some good humanity in them. (well, some anyways)

Then you have the sin of Gluttony and Lust embodiments from Helluva Boss...who wants their Sins partaken in a responsible manner.

I be content and fine if Roo is just a straight up villain. But if creators can someone twist Evil incarnate into having heart (like the other characters in their show) despite working towards their more then likely very evil plan. I would be freakin impressed.

I had to look up eris and link a scene of her.

Now, I have to find something streaming this movie to watch soon.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Dating Eyeless Jack would include (plus general Jack headcannons)

Hello hello!! Im back with another list of headcannons!! This time with EJ!! Hope you all enjoy!!

First off, he's a hermit. He doesn't like people, especially in my take of him

I personally headcannon Eyeless Jack to be more of a person being possessed/turning into a monster rather than being a monster at creation, yk? Its built off that one spin off backstory someone wrote; where Jack is in school and gets caught up in some cult stuff

Yeah that story!! I took that one and the original and mashed it up!! My idea is that Jack is still there, mostly normal but has a barely controllable hunger for flesh ++ he body deteriorates as time passes to better resemble how we all know him (grey skin, maybe sharp teeth if you hc it, ect ect)

Now that I've caught you up with my take on him, I'll continue!! Since he's in this position I feel like it'd be near impossible for him to actually. Allow himself to have a romantic relationship, or any relationship for that matter.. he feels that you being around him will put you in danger

Thats not to say my EJ is evil! Hes not, its just the funky curse that compels him to eat meat

But let's say he does find you, and lets his walls down, and you two get together

To start, he rarely takes off his mask outside of feeding times, most times he can't remember the details of; often being a blur left in his mind due to his curse

So mask kisses! Lots and lots of them! You'll have to be the one to initiate it though <\3 Jack never seemed to be the type to seek n give affection, at least to me

On the off chance you do see him without the mask, he might.. MIGHT let you actually kiss him

He's got sharp teeth, that's one reason he's nervous about kissing you for real

He also has half a dozen long, writhing, snake like tongues in his mouth. Cult rituals, amirite? I mean.. he doesn't really know.. how that'd work..

Oh before I forget to mention! My EJ is short, but stout!! 5'6 but he's got a wide frame!! Strong!! Do not tease him on his height because he will be moody for the rest of the day

Sometimes on cold days he lets you snuggle up with him inside his jacket

If he's coming to visit you, he'll be the most polite guest ever

Come over to his place, a little abandoned cabin in the woods? He'll be a good host!! Just please don't go into the room in the far right corner of the cabin 😋😋 that totally isnt where he primarily feeds 😋

I feel like he can't really eat. Normal food

Tough tiddies oh well

Actually now that I think about it my take on Jack kinda reminds me of the ghouls from Tokyo Ghoul

Anyways

Oh y/n please play with his hair!! Its nice and soft and fluffy!! He won't outright ask you to do it, but he'll send signals!!

He doesn't talk much but he's a good listener! He's not shy or anything, it's just that he's more observant and reserved. Even before.. everything that happened to him, he wasn't much of a talker

Doesn't sleep much, he doesn't really need to anymore

On nights where he isnt out.. doing his thing, he might come into your room and watch over you

Not to be creepy!! Even if it is.. creepy.. yk?

It's his own way of making sure nothing happens

He will knock it off if you ask him too though! He'll likely limit it to quickly checking in on you to make sure you're safe and sound

He's cold.. ice cold.. whether or not that deems him a not so good cuddle buddy is up to you

Takes a very very long time to warm up to affection. You'll likely have to wait for him to take the first steps, or to catch the signs, you know?

[iu-jjang]

[FANCAFE] 23.09.18 IU replies to uaena’s comments on her fancafe (Part 1)

IU replying to her own post:

Ah I forgot to mention one thing..

I really wanted to at least attend one of the movie screenings today and do a surprise stage greeting… but there’s a really big scene to be filmed today and I’m not in Seoul right now..ㅠㅠ I tried to arrange my schedule since a month ago, but it’s a scene that many actors appear on set together and matching everyone’s schedules is like catching a star in the sky, so it was difficult for me to meet uaenas today, whatt ㅠㅠ!!! Just saying in case there are any uaenas looking at the door, waiting for me to make my appearance and not being able to enjoy the movie today..

Uaena: I cried so much that I took a crying selca, unnie… if you read this on stage, I would have been submerged (in tears)…

IU: Show us -clap- show us -clap-

Uaena: I’m curious about whether you had your dinner, whether you’re filming right now, whether you’ve been sleeping well lately. I love you.

IU: I just reached my accomodations, washed up and wrote this letter. I’m going to bed now. Tomorrow will be a busy day from early morning to night! Nowadays, the moment my butt touches something, I fall asleep kekekeke 😍 Goodnight!!!!

Uaena: I was looking forward to (your surprise appearance), but it’s ok! We can’t ruin jingjjang’s schedule! Have a safe trip back. You worked hard for today’s momo concert!!! I’m wondering if you saw the uaena waving goodbye to you as you left? ㅠ

IU: Of course I saw all of it 😌 There were many people holding slogans and I saw many lightsticks too, so I put in effort to look at them, but I was told not to open the window for safety reasons, so I couldn’t open my window. Sorry ㅜㅜ

Uaena: -long post which mentioned that uaena’s love for IU is not one-sided but reciprocated by IU-

IU: What do you mean one-sided!!😡🔥🔥 I love you!!

Uaena: Unnie, when exactly do you sleep? Please sleep well! This middle schooler uaena will be going to bed first hehe Have a good night 🫶🏻

IU: Nowadays, I almost always sleep at midnight!!! After my middle school days, it’s the first time I’m having a routine lifestyle again 😍😍

Uaena: I really want to ask whether you think a serious bread includes salty bread. 🤨

IU: Salty bread looks cute, so it’s an excited bread.(TL note: IU mentioned before on IU TV that she prefers sweet bread and doesn’t like ‘serious’ bread like garlic baguette or pizza bread or sausage bread which tastes of food.)

Uaena: Has your skin recovered from the mosquito bite??? I noticed you stuck a sticker to hide it cutely today kiki

IU: … It keeps swelling up..ㅠㅠ I think this evil mosquito released its poison all the way inside my bones (insert mosquito bite selca)

Uaena: Jieun noona, have you watched the show in the movie theatre?! It’s almost like going back again to last year, it’s no joke!!

IU: Have I watched it, or have I not~?

Uaena: I’m curious about the drink you often order from the coffee truck. Please let us know your TMI.

IU: Babamba latte. When it’s hot, I go for ICE, when it’s cold, I go for HOT 😌 (TL note: It’s a mix of chesnut, walnut and milk with some honey)

Uaena: Have you seen the Unique Dayooki (TL note: IU 15th anniv contest on fancafe)?! The creations are hilarious 💜

IU: Uaena are.. really (in a good way) crazy.

Uaena: Unnie, to you what is the most legendary song of Golden Hour?

IU: The 3rd section of the concert is really… awesome…

Uaena: How are things between you and your brother lately?

IU: Getting better as we get older 👍

IU replying to herself:

Ah I really need to go to bed now!! 🐥🐥🐥🐥 I’m really going to bed!!! I’ll be back tomorrow if I have time during my breaks. Today is an important day for us ❤️ Let’s keep the conversation going. Goodnight!!! 😊😊😊

Translated by IUteamstarcandy

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[thefemdomenchantress]

The Enchantress: psi sensual deprivation

The enchantress opens the dungeon door and smiles down at her poor captive hero. For the entire day she had kept him tidy, but had fed him little. He is not starved or dehydrated, but he is not full of food either. He’s ready.

She unclasps him and gently takes his hand. He struggles, but her magic easily, slowly guides him to follow her as she leads him up to her laboratory. It is not willingness but magical power that makes him walk toward the room which she will enact evil science and magic upon him.

A particularly large golden sarcophagus lies at the center of her lab. She eagerly shows it off, draping herself over it as her fingers slide along its engravings.

Enchantress: My latest creation. Tested and completed at last, hero. It awaits your body.

Hero: You want to put me in that thing, you horrible woman? What sorcery have you been tinkering with?

Enchantress: Only the most wicked, my precious. You may have noticed that there are no air holes or openings at all. Indeed, when the coffin lid is shut with you in it it will fuse together with the base, leaving no way to escape. You will be kept alive and comfortable, however.

With a wave of her hand the coffin slides open, revealing a red foam-like inner wall with a perfect outline of the hero.

The hero grunts with effort to defy her will, but he can’t stop as his body is lifted up and placed inside. He’s cradled by the soft material, feeling the magical humming against his bare skin.

Enchantress: The soft inner layer is concentrated magic of my own design. It will keep you breathing fine. However, that is the least interesting of its properties. You see, hero, how much squeezing pressure can a human body withstand before its lungs stop working and heart stops beating? How much further still until it is crushed into an unrecognizable paste?

Enchantress: Whatever the answer is out here, in this sarcophagus the answer is infinite.

Hero: Wh-what are you saying?

The hero’s efforts to escape doubles, but he cannot break free.

Enchantress: I don’t have time to explain the complex magics, and the physics and biology involved, but succinctly: this red foam  that is cradling your body so gently right now can squeeze you, totally and firmly, with infinite power. But you will be fine, because it will also enhance your body’s strength to compensate.

Hero: You’re going to pressure crush me?

Enchantress: No no no. You will not be crushed. Only be squeezed under a level of force that would crush you if more clumsily applied. That is why I have been so careful in providing you with a diet today: I need you to be just empty enough for this to be safe.

Hero: That’s... that’s unbelievable! That’s torture!

Enchantress: Oh hero, I would never put you through this if I believed it wouldn’t be pleasurable and pleasing. You will be helplessly cradled and squeezed so tight that resistance will leave your body and you will enjoy it so much. Don’t you trust me?

The look on the hero’s face states that he very clearly and totally does NOT trust her at all.

Enchantress: Tsk tsk. Once again I must make you understand... through demonstration <3

Hero: NO!

The enchantress closes the sarcophagus and releases her binding spell. As the golden sarcophagus front and back halves fuse into one full, inescapable shell with no openings, the hero’s grunting and struggling can be heard.

*** *** ***

It is dark. It is also quiet. The foam acts as a sound dampener.

The hero stops holding his breath and, despite the foam pressed against his face, the air travels through the foam as freely as though it were thinly hollow sponge instead of a dense cushion. He can breathe freely .

He’s totally trapped. His individual arms and legs are gently but totally held still in separate faults in the foam. The enchantress had long ago perfectly measured his body. Every bone, every bit of fat and muscle, is perfectly cradled by soft foam.

He can hear the enchantress’s muffled voice.

Enchantress: Let’s start with some basics.

He hears a hum and the foam surrounding him begins to animate. It’s as though his entire body, even places like the inner walls of his armpit and a bit into his ass crack, is being gently rubbed by vibrations. His testicles and cock feel it the most.

Hero: Enchy, stop!

Enchantress: Now, we start applying the weight.

The vibrating stops. The hero feels the foam press inward on all sides, as though inflating. The pressure builds up slowly, minute to minute.

The pressure is most dense around his limbs. It is as though each one is being held down and lain upon by an adult woman: nothing he can’t handle. His chest and back feels like someone is slowly laying their entire weight onto him. The way his face is feeling, he humiliatingly admits to himself, reminds him of the enchantress sitting atop him, but more thoroughly and evenly applied.

The hero can’t even speak now, though he still breathes easily.

Hero: RRMMMPH. RMPH!

Enchantress: Feeling comfy? Trapped?

The hero squirms and squirms, though he cannot move his muscled limbs and chest even a millimetre. He is utterly trapped and at her mercy.

Enchantress: Excellent. Now, let’s start tightening. Lets start with something small...

The foam tightens. The hero gives a muffled yell.

Despite claiming to be “starting small” the hero can tell the pressure against his body is immense, as though a large animal lay atop him. Left, right, side to side, front and back, the tight pressure is all around him. Tighter. Tighter. Tightness.

And yet, he feels none of the effects. His blood travels unobstructed through his body. His breathing is normal and even. He does not even feel the panic of claustrophobia. The only evidence of the heavy weight the enchantress is inflicting on him is his inability to move.

Even his vulnerable erection and balls are not in pain: the tightness resulting in squeezing he had never felt before.

The hero has always believed that arousal, orgasm, was based on movement. Pumping, squeezing, thrusting, etc. And yet...

Enchantress: It’s incredible, isn’t it?

Hero: MMPH!

Enchantress: No suffocation. No pain. You can barely feel anything at all. No sight. No sound but my voice and your own body, and even is limited. No sensations at all aside for the squeeze and immobilization. Now... let’s apply more.

There is more pressure, slowly all across his body. His crotch, ass, and hips feel it across. It squeezes his cock and balls. It squeezes his arms and legs. It squeezes, squeezes, squeeeeeeeze.

And suddenly the hero can no longer move. At all. He only shivers. The only movements in him now is breathing and heartbeats. Even his mind is growing blank, no ideas coming.

Chains. Rope. Mummy bandages. Vacuum beds, tight leather, even magical spells. In all of these, the hero had at least been able to give futile struggles against them.

Now it is though the struggle, the resistance, has been squeezed out of him, like air from balloon. He can’t even fight back in vain any more.

In the world of Bondage, the hero is experiencing what would be impossible in any other circumstances: absolute bondage, absolute helplessness.

And damn it all, he feels his cock stirring. The warmth inside his totally still loins rising.

Enchantress: Well, hero? How does the weight feel? Are you comfy? Want to give one of your famous rebellious speeches? Curse me and call me a vile wench? Vow for revenge and justice?

Hero: MM...Mmmmmmmmmmmph!

Enchantress: I can tell you are begging, hero. But it will do no good.

The hero IS begging. He is totally calm, totally without pain, and yet totally bound and helpless. The tightness is indescribable, and the pleasure he is feeling is inexplicable.

It’s not the same pleasure as being held down by the enchantress and having his cock teased.

It’s not the same pleasure of any sort of sex he’s had in his life.

Despite being born of pressure, weight, and tightenss, it’s a pleasure in relief. Of being relieved of hope of escape. Relieved of rebelling. His body, forced to feel unimaginable squeezing and immobilization that no mortal could ever experience, has given up all rebelliousness.

And the hero, to whom rebelliousness is a constant, can’t help but be aroused at its loss. At his own defeat.

He remembers his first orgasm, decades ago, in which he tried to resist all the way to the last moment before the naughty and sexy thoughts overwhelmed him.

What he is experiencing now was similar: in total immobilization, an unfightable feeling of arousal.

“Please, no... I can’t move at all... I can’t stop what’s about to happen at all... No!”

Enchantress: You were already helpless before my might, hero. But you at least still had your fighting spirit within you to keep you cool. But in this intense sensory deprivation even your own body is rejecting rebellion. Am I right, hero? 

Hero: RRMMMPH!

Enchantress: I’m about to squeeze you with the power to crush even steel... can your sense of self survive that? Let’s see!

And with that the enchantress increased the power as high as she is confident. The hero feels the crushing power, the magic instantaneously adjusting his strength to resist it.

Tightness beyond imagination.

Immobilization enough to stop even his subconscious shivering.

And in his mind...

“No... No... N-ye... Yes... YES... OH GODS... PLEASE...YES!”

The hero’s mind breaks under the squeezing as the pressure slowly squeezes his testicles and cock, forcefully arousing him beyond anything he’s felt before.

The hero experiences an impossibly highly dense orgasm. It is moreso that the cum is forcefully squeezed out of is cock rather than traditional orgasm. The cum shoots out, high pressurized, and is spread almost instantaneously all around his body in a microscopic thin layer.

And then the sarcophagus adjusts his strength again to counter the pressure. He grows stronger, his body functions more powerful. His balls refill almost instantly.

And the cum is squeezed out almost instantly.

And the sarcophagus adjusts again.

And he is made to cum again.

And the sarcophagus adjusts again.

And he cums again. And again. Faster each time, until there is no gap in between.

“YES... YES... YES... YES... Tighter and tighter YES... YESSSSSSSSS.”

*** *** ***

The enchantress, ever the sadist, does not stop increasing the pressure. She knows there is a limit... something something, physics, black holes, blah blah blah... but besides that she has no reason to let the hero stop. After all, at this point, even the smallest changes in pressure will increase the hero’s impossibly powerful pleasure now... microscopic changes...

She could do this forever.

But she is a greedy lady as well. She can’t let the sarcophagus keep her hero forever. After hours and hours of cooking away his mind, she begins the slow process of adjusting him back.

The pressure relieves slowly. The hero’s mind and sense of sensation slowly revert...

He is experiencing impossible, infinite pleasure...

...He slowly regains his sense of shame... but not stop cumming...

...He slowly regains the ability to make thoughts...but not stop the cumming...

...He slowly regains the ability to make microscopic muscle movements again...

An hour later, the sarcophagus opens up. The hero is back to normal, dreadfully ashamed, exhausted, and in dire need of water and a break.

The enchantress gives him water at least... before crawling into the sarcophagus with him.

Hero: En-enchy???

Enchantress: Trust me.

That is the last coherent thought the two have before she closes the lid on both of them.

[justaaveragereader]

The Eight Evil Thoughts // OT8

Part 9: Realization

You were a firm believer that when you died you were bound to go to heaven…but what happens when you get casted straight down to hell. Before kneeling before the most famous evil thought/leader you run into the other evil thoughts along the way.

"The wolf has eyes for prey, the cow has eyes for hay. One of them's a killer, the other his buffet"

- Itona Horribe.

🌹Pair: Reader x ????

🌹Genre: Angst, Thriller, Possible Yandere, Suggestive, Religion Talk, Cursing,

🌹Word Count: 3.7k

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Hongjoongs face never moved. His poker face was not one to be mistaken with. You couldn’t tell how he was feeling. He just looked at you, he looked through you, he looked into you. He sat so still, you would’ve thought he morphed into a statue.

Your mind was running at a million miles per hour. You couldn’t process anything that had made its way out of his mouth. What did he mean you were the ninth creation? You knew all of these men? You are one of these creatures? You stare at him blankly. It’s like he’s waiting for you to say something to make any move.

“ I…I…h-how..”

You were simply at a loss for words. You didn’t know what to say or what to do to even get out of this. Should you just run..? But where would you even run to..? This was his place, his domain, his kingdom.

Hongjoong slight tilts his head to the side. Looking at you as if you are some poor pitiful creature in need of saving, his gaze alone is making you feel ill at ease. He’s waiting for the perfect time to pounce. You are locked in a cage with a lion. A cage which you so effortlessly wandered into.

“You are scared aren’t you?”

He says in a low tone, inhaling deeply, taking in your scent.

“Your fear…it’s unlike any other it’s so delectable. I look forward to every time you have to come down here and we have this conversation. I can’t tell you how many times we’ve had it.”

He lightly chuckles, eyes boring straight into you. Like he’s permanently burning this memory into his brain forever, like he’s filing away every movement, every facial expression. Like this will be the last time you both have this conversation. He pushes away from his desk, chair rolling back. The sudden movement by him makes you jump slightly in your chair. A wicked grin breaks out on his face. He’s clearly amused by you. He lets out a small hum before speaking up.

“His favorite…can you imagine that..? His favorite, most precious, most prized now sitting in front of me…terrified for their own life. Tell me…should I spare you..? Do you deserve my sympathy..?”

Your eyes start to water, you are terrified. You bite your trembling lip, trying to stop yourself from letting the tears fall. You nod slowly while locking eyes with him.

“Ple-..please have sympathy for me…”

A giddy smile never leaves his face. He’s simply enjoying your desperation, your fear. He leans back further into his chair, rubbing under his chin playfully like he’s thinking hard on his decision. You slightly glance back trying to measure the distance of the door from where you are. If you move fast enough you should be able to make it to the door and out of here within enough time. You quickly glance at the floor, still deep in thought trying to calculate how fast you need to move, the distance, while hoping Hongjoong didn’t catch you glancing at the door.

The room falls chillingly quiet. Too afraid to pick your head up and look at the man. What if he caught you? Is he going to continue to stare at you for much longer? Flickering up your eyes slowly to his desk chair. He’s gone? You close your eyes confused. No, no, no! He was just there….right..? He had been there the whole time? You turn around slowly. Eyes darting all around and across the room. Was this his green light? Was he offering you his sympathy..? You stand up quietly, making sure not to make any noise. You step back.

Making your way towards the shut door. Your hand hovers over it. There it is that nagging feeling telling you to go sit back down and stay put but on the same note the door is so tempting, it’s begging for you to leave, to run away, to make a fast getaway. You grip the knob slowly trying to turn the knob as quietly as possible. As soon as you got the door cracked. You look over your shoulder, double checking that he was no longer present. A sigh of relief passes through your lips. You are now officially on the way to escaping. As you step out, you turn around trying to quietly close the door, hoping not to alert anyone.

“You know…most people would’ve stayed put…then I always forget you aren’t most people, you are temptation itself.”

You freeze in your tracks not even daring to turn around, you already know who is standing behind you. You feel like a child who has been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Placing your forehead against the door you let out a sigh. You know now this is officially it. You can’t run, hide, flee, or talk your way out of this. You are done for.

Hongjoong snaps his fingers, signaling to the demons standing by his sides to seize you, immediately.

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Seonghwa let out an annoyed huff.

“Wooyoung! I brought you towels to use! Look at this floor! It’s all wet! You are going to get mold and mildew in here! Then it’s going to stink and I’m not going to clean it. You are!”

Wringing out his mop with a frustrated look on his face. Slapping the mop back onto the cave floor trying to soak up as much water as possible. Wooyoung rolls his eyes, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

“Hyungggg!”

He says in a sing-song voice. Stretching out on his rock. Moving around to get into his comfortable position. Letting a smile grace his face. Clearly pleased at what he saw in front of him. Seonghwa having a small heart attack at the conditions of his cave.

“Look at these floors! Look at the moss sprouting on these walls! You are going to get pests in here Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung lets out a sigh. Silently whispering to himself.

“A pest already is in here.”

“What was that Wooyoung?! Speak up! I don’t think I heard you correctly!”

Seonghwa says while aggressively mopping the floor.

“Why don’t you get placement mats by the water? That way guests can dry off their feet? It’ll make it cleaner in here, less dirty.”

Letting out a groan, frustrated with Seonghwa.

“It’s a cave Hyung! It’s meant to be dirty. See?”

Wooyoung snaps his fingers making the fire blaze stronger, showing off more of the inside of the cave. Seonghwa lets out a small scream, clutching his chest. Whines and gasps leaving his mouth.

“Look at all the bones! The uncleanliness! The uncleanliness is going to kill me. Wooyoung this is a cave! Not a pig pen! I can’t fathom this mess!”

Seonghwa let’s go of his mop dramatically. The stick falling, smacking the ground loudly. Wooyoung lets out a small laugh. Peeling his body off of the rock, making his way towards Seonghwa.

“You know everyone else keeps their area clean but you. What did I tell you? If you are going to eat the guests, compost the bones! Compost the bones! How hard is that? Now I need to grab the broom. You treat this area as a trash can! I’m not cleaning up your cave any more after this Wooyoung!”

Wooyoung lazily throws his arms around Seonghwas waist. Pulling Seonghwa closer, putting his face in his neck and smiling.

“Hyung…we both know that’s a lie.”

Wooyoung rubs his lips together, quickly kissing Seonghwa on his cheek. Continuing to hold him close. Not caring that Seonghwa was trying to shove him away. All it did was fuel Wooyoungs need to be close to him.

“Wooyoung, why are you doing this? I have to get the broom, let me go.”

Seonghwa struggles to get out of his tight hold.

Trying to dodge the kisses Wooyoung is attempting to give him. When the fire in the cave blazes brightly. Signaling that Yunho was contacting Wooyoung. Seonghwa and a very much attached Wooyoung both turn around, giving their attention towards the blazing flame. An outline of Yunhos body can be seen in.

“I hope I’m not interrupting…?..”

Yunho trails off at the end of his sentence. Wooyoung pulls Seonghwa into a tight side hug, cheesy smile taking over his face.

“Of course not! What can we do for you Yunho?”

Wooyoung says with a glint of mischief to his voice. Seonghwas eyes cut to Wooyoung still struggling to get out of his grip.

“Maddox has contacted me. We are all being summoned.”

“Great! When?”

Wooyoung asks while puckering his lips ready to kiss Seonghwas cheeks again.

“Immediately.”

Wooyoung lets out an annoyed huff. His arms dropped from around Seonghwa, with a slight pout on his face. Letting out a slight whine.

“Like right now, right now? Or like 5 minutes from now, right now?”

“Right now, right now.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes.

“Alright alright. I’m coming, I'm coming. Come on Hyung, let’s go.”

Seonghwa points at Wooyoung.

“Don’t think this is getting you out of cleaning this cave. When we are done. You will be helping me clean up.”

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“Your majesty?”

“Yes Maddox?”

Hongjoong doesn’t even spare a glance towards the demon. Too busy retrieving the book with your name on the front.

“They have been stowed away in a holding cell for now, is there anything else you would like us to do for you?”

Hongjoong stops in his tracks. A happy sigh leaves his throat. He’s finally got you now where he what’s you, where he’s always wanted you. No one besides the princes understand how long he’s waited for this moment.

“Did you summon the others?”

“Yes sir, Yunho is contacting them all as we speak. They are preparing themselves and will be in the hall shortly. Would you like me to gather your things, your majesty?”

Before Hongjoong can answer Maddox the lights in this office glow ever so brightly. Not bothering Hongjoong or Maddox in the slightest. Hongjoong grits his teeth. His fist tightening so hard, his knuckles turn white.

“Your majesty…would you like me to call upon the oth-.”

“No.”

Hongjoong clears his throat. Visibly annoyed, taking a deep breath, he tries to calm his nerves. The unwanted visitor isn’t even upon him yet but just knowing that he’s in the space he banished him to, his area, his world, it’s unsettling, unnerving, and downright disrespectful. Lifting his hand Hongjoong dismisses Maddox, clearly wanting to be alone. If Hongjoong was going to put an end to this then he was going to do it his way.

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Jongho stood frozen outside of Hongjoongs door, internally he was quivering.

“I know you are standing outside my door. Stop being creepy and enter.”

Taking a deep breath Jongho enters, stomach feeling like it’s doing laps at a pool. If he would’ve just spoken to Hongjoong before it happened it wouldn’t have caused so much ruckus. Hongjoong motions to the seat closest to Jongho, signaling him to have a seat. Before having a seat Jongho bows to Hongjoong, making sure to show him as much respect as possible.

Hongjoong looks up from his paperwork, resting his pen down to give Jongho his full attention. He sat up right in the chair, picking at the cuticles on his nails, clearly he was scared, no one ever enjoyed being called to Hongjoongs room.

“Now Jong-“

“I was tired of seeing them, Hyung!”

Jongho quickly blurts out, cutting Hongjoong off before he could finish his sentence. Hongjoong is slightly taken back, eyes growing in size.

“I’m tired, Hyung…It’s so tiring seeing them every time…I’m tired of having to do it. I just…I just wanted to be free of them. Seeing them is a constant reminder of what could’ve been…What should’ve been. I love being down here with all of you, learned to love it even.. but…”

Jongho hangs his head low, visibly upset. Biting his lip so hard he drew blood. Attempting so hard to control the emotions that were brewing rather quickly. Damn that Mingi, Jongho regrets visiting Mingi prior to coming to see Hongjoong knowing any time he leaves Mingis area he backpacks the sadness with him temporarily.

“It’s not fair…”

Voice cracking with heartbreak.

“Why didn’t he cherish us how he cherished them..? Were we the flawed ones Hyung..?”

Hongjoongs eyes filled with white water, never once did it cross his mind while he was having the time of his life seeing them, the boys must’ve all suffered, Jongho being the youngest of the bunch took it the hardest, Mingi right behind him.

All of them reacted so differently when they got banished. Too busy trying to figure out the ways of being a new founder leader of the underworld he realizes he let some things slip through the cracks. Clearing his throat to choke back his emotions.

“Why didn’t you say anything before Jongho? You could’ve told me or Seonghwa. This burden is not one you need to carry on your own.”

Head still hanging, eyes refusing to leave the floor. Jongho feels like a coward. How is he supposed to uphold Greed when he can’t even hold his head up high? He can’t even look his leader in the eyes and admit his mistake. Nails digging into his thighs to ease himself. Internally kicking himself for letting his mask slip so low. He’s supposed to be strong, one of the bravest ones. Hongjoong sees the faint purple tear that splashes on Jonghos pants. Little did Jongho know internally Hongjoong was kicking himself for failing as a leader, as the first creation but most importantly as a brother.

“Oh Jongho…”

Hongjoong whispers out.

Jongho scoots back from his chair, eyes glued to the floor, dropping to his knees. Gasping for air, purple tears are flowing down his face, splashing onto the wooden floorboards underneath him. So ashamed of himself he can’t bear to look the leader in his face. He’s having an internal war, and the biggest enemy he’s facing? Himself. Forehead touching the floor, showing Hongjoong the utmost sign of respect.

“Hyung I swear. I’ll try harder. I’ll do better. Just give me another chance, I will correct myself for when they arrive next. Just please don’t give up on me because I am not strong, I am, I will prove it.”

Seonghwa walks in without knocking, hands full with a bowl of lunch for Hongjoong. Pausing right in the entryway. Face falling into a deep frown. All you hear bouncing off the walls are Jonghos cries, deep breaths for air, and pleas.

“…Jongho..? Hongjoong what’s going on?”

Seonghwa rushes to place the lunch down on the desk. Kneeling down, rubbing Jonghos back to comfort him. He’s never seen him in such a way. Biting his lip, Hongjoong stands up out of his seat. Clearing his throat.

“Seonghwa. Summon the others. I want all of them here. Now.”

Seonghwa looks between Jongho and Hongjoong. Not wanting to leave the youngest but also knowing Hongjoong is the leader.

“Hongjoong…but Jongho…”

“Please Seonghwa…please…”

Seonghwa can count on one hand how many times Hongjoong had said the word “please”. Knowing this must be serious business. Nodding his head Seonghwa gives Jongho one last look before he ventures off to summon the others, quickly.

“Jongho, stand please.”

Taking a deep breath to gather his emotions. Knowing he needs to pull it in gear, instead of blabbering on the floor like a baby. Wiping his tears on his sleeve. He stands up, taking in another deep breath. Eyes refusing to leave the floor. To him the air is thick with disappointment but to Hongjoong the air is filled with heartbreak and failed leadership.

Wooyoung bursts through the door. Pointing his finger at Hongjoong.

“You monster! You tyrant! You..You…someone give me another word to insult him.”

San shoves Wooyoung in the door. All the others follow right behind. Seonghwa is the last to enter.

“You should’ve called him short…you know he hates that.”

Mingi whispers loudly. Yunho smacks Mingi over the head. Wincing, he shoots Yunho a glare. Wooyoung rushes over to Jongho, wiping the tears off of his face. Pulling him into a bone crushing hug. Hongjoong clears his throat.

“Where are they right now?”

Wooyoung tosses Hongjoong a dirty look. Seonghwa moves closer to Wooyoung, lightly nudging him to answer the leaders question. Rolling his eyes, he smacks his lips. Voice laced with disgust.

“They are in one of the water holes. I put them in an unconscious state.”

Hongjoong nods his head. Making his way around the table desk to stand in front of them all. All the members slightly glance at Jongho, taking notice of his very upset state. Yet not daring to move. Hongjoong suddenly bows to all of the members.

“Hongjoong what are yo-.”

He cuts Seonghwa off before he can finish his sentence. Still in his bowing stance.

“It’s come to my attention that I have failed you all. I have failed to communicate, I have failed as your leader. I have failed as your brother. A leader is nothing without his team…and yet I’ve failed to act as such. Please forgive me.”

The room gets chillingly quiet.

“I bet you feel pretty dumb now, don’t ya Wooyoung?”

San says suddenly. Causing a small chuckle to erupt from Jongho. Wooyoungs eyes cut to San. Clearly not amused at his smart mouth remark. Mingi silently stifles a laugh.

“Mingi I don’t know why you are laughing. You should feel stupid too.”

Yunhos sudden speaking out causes a domino effect. Everyone in the room laughs, even Hongjoong.

Hongjoong stands up, looking at Jongho. Before Jongho can even relax from the laughter that’s coming from his body. Hongjoong shoves Wooyoung away from Jongho, bringing his arms around Jonghos body, pulling him in for a hug.

“Please…please don’t go through those troubles alone. You are one of the strongest people in this room. Your burden is not one of your own. We may all carry our burdens differently but we share similar troubles. Please forgive me Jongho.”

Jongho wraps his arms around Hongjoong, hugging him back. He didn’t need to verbally tell Hongjoong anything, the action spoke for itself. Pulling back Hongjoong playfully shoves Wooyoungs shoulder.

“If I am a tyrant, you are a gremlin.”

Wooyoungs mouth drops open. Ready for a slick comeback but Yeosang suddenly speaks up.

“Does that make me the second strongest?”

Yeosang flexes his arm muscles. Seonghwa wants to join in. He starts to flex his arm. Jongho lightly pushes his arm back down.

“Hyung please…don’t embarrass yourself.”

This causes all the boys to erupt in laughter. The atmosphere changing. No matter what life time Hongjoong was in… as long as he had all of them, he’d forever be complete. This was his family.

As the laughter died down. Hongjoong made his way back to his desk. Pulling out the book with your name on it. Yunho spoke suddenly.

“What are you going to do Hyung?”

“I'm sure my selfish actions have not only bothered Jongho, I’m sure they have hurt you all. Yet you never spoke up to aid my happiness. So I’m going to do what is long overdue. I’m going to make sure they stay down here. Permanently.”

All of their eyes grow wide.

“Hongjoong.. can you do that?”

Seonghwas voice is thick with worry.

“As long as they are down here in our area. I can do whatever I please. If the creator has an issue with it. He can write a letter and shove it up his ass. I could care less. None of you should have to suffer anymore. It’s been eons that you’ve all had to suffer. That will be no more.”

All the boys nod their heads. Agreeing with what Hongjoong was saying. He may have lacked at times as a leader but he would lack no more. The boys were priority number one, he was going to make sure that they were all loved, equally supported, and cared for. Even if it meant he had to tear down the world. That was the difference between him and the creator, something that Hongjoong would always out rank him on. He loved all the boys equally.

“After Wooyoung, they will go to Yeosang, next Yunho, Seonghwa and finally they will end with me, and we will end it all. Forever.”

Hongjoong let’s a wicked smile grace his face.

Jongho does a noticeable shiver. He’s overcome with joy that this will now be permanent. You will now be down here forever to suffer. Right along with them.

“They're playing with the big boys now…”

Mingi starts to sing slowly…Yunho smiles, joining in.

“They're playing with the big boys now! They’re playing with the big boys now!”

San couldn’t help himself, joining into the sinister singing. Yeosang joining right alongside.

“Playing with the big boys now!”

Wooyoung grabs Jongho pulling him into the circle the boys have formed while singing joyfully.

Seonghwa makes his way towards Hongjoong.

“Seonghwa get ready…we are in for quite a ride.”

Seonghwa smiles at Hongjoong. Following his eyes, he looks proudly at the boys all singing in a circle. Nodding his head.

“Eight makes one team?”

Raising his eyebrows at Hongjoong with a wicked grin on his face. Hongjoong smiles back just as sinisterly.

“Eight makes one team.”

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Authors Note: Due to popular demand I was able to stretch it out into two more chapters. Chapter 10 will be the final and last chapter. I can’t believe this series will becoming to a end 💔🥹it’s a bittersweet moment really. Besides that…What do we think..?👀👀 I’ve had so much fun writing this. I based this mostly around Jongho and why he “helped” them with the apple because I think some people wanted further explanation into that. Also Jonghos part was a “flashback” just to clear things up. Also mad props to anyone if they know where the “playing with the big boys” song is from along with the quote…if you know where the quote is from..message me I’m about to be your new bestfriend🤗. Next chapter is going to be so fun. Oo I can’t wait! Also did I cry slightly making Jonghos part…? Yes. Bc Ima sap💀 I cut out so many sad parts from the flashback bc I didn’t want anyone to cry like my emotional ass😀.

DO NOT REPOST.

[paldean-sandwich-rater]

Killed cheese

Last night I got 9 variation grilled cheese requests. For convenience sake, I will be compressing all of their reviews to this one post. All the other reviews will be under a read me.

Killed Cheese

Ingredients: Normal grilled cheese but at the last minute you betray your creation. Stick the sharpest butter knife you have into it and surround the hole with ketchup. Oh the horror.

Smell: Grilled cheese with an extra sweetness from the ketchup. Not bad. 4/5

Taste: I’d rather most other red sauces, or just tomato soup really. But I do like ketchup. 4/5

Texture: Not much has changed. 5/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: Yes. 5/5

Final Score: 4.5/5

Critics Notes: I am a fiend for ketchup but it’s not the right fit for grilled cheese.

Villed cheese

Ingredients: A vilified grilled cheese. Nefarious. Evil. This is a normal grilled cheese except the cheese is a used sponge.

Smell: Bad. 1/5

Taste: Bad. 1/5

Texture: Even worse. 1/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: No. 1/5

Final Score: 1/5

Critic’s Notes: Delicious.

Quilled cheese

Ingredients: A normal grilled cheese but with quills in it. Which Pokémon? I don’t care.

Smell: I doubt it would change much smell wise. 5/5

Taste: Quills probably don’t taste like much. That being said, you’d get a lovely taste of blood in your mouth because you’re absolutely not supposed to eat them. 1/5

Texture: You hurt yourself if you eat this. 1/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: No. 1/5

Final Score: 2/5

Critic’s Notes: Don’t do this.

Willed Cheese (this one was sent twice)

Ingredients: A normal grilled cheese but it is made entirely with someone’s psychic abilities (they willed it to be made).

Smell: The same as a normal grilled cheese. 5/5

Taste: This is a normal grilled cheese. 5/5

Texture: Just because someone made it with their mind doesn’t mean it’s different. 5/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: Yes. 5/5

Final Score: 5/5

Critic’s Notes: I wish I could make sandwiches with my mind. Alas.

Hilled Cheese

Ingredients: A grilled cheese but both sides of the bread surround a hill. Only works if you have a nearby cave system with a hill over it.

Smell: You cant. It’s. It’s all rocks and dirt. 1/5

Taste: Stalagmite yum. 1/5

Texture: You can’t eat this. 1/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: No. 1/5

Final Score: 1/5

Critic’s Notes: The only person I could see enjoying this is an Orthworm

Tilled Cheese

Ingredients: A grilled cheese but you make it using a farming hoe. The thing used to till land.

Smell: Normal probably. Hopefully. 5/5

Taste: Also hopefully normal. 5/5

Texture: With a tool that big there’s no way something doesn’t get messed up. 4/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: Yes. 5/5

Final Score: 4.75/5

Critic’s Notes: Please clean it off before preparing food with it.

Nilled Cheese

Ingredients: Nilled means unwilling. If a willed cheese is a cheese made with psychic powers, then a Nilled cheese is one made normally with your hands.

Smell: It’s a grilled cheese. 5/5

Taste: It’s a grilled cheese. 5/5

Texture: Literally nothing has changed. 5/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: Yes. 5/5

Final Score: 5/5

Critic’s Notes: This was all I could think of.

Billed Cheese

Ingredients: A normal grilled cheese with money put inside it.

Smell: Normal I’d guess. 5/5

Taste: Bad. Do you know how gross money gets? 2/5

Texture: You can’t eat this without getting sick. 1/5

Would Chunk Eat It?: No. 1:5

Final Score: 2.25/5

Critic’s Notes: Just use the money to buy other ingredients.

Strilled Cheese

This is not a word. At least, not that I could find. However, should someone give me a definition I will rate it.

[gh-0-stcup]

So I've got a tinhat headcanon for Chuck, based on just what I've heard about the last couple seasons.

Chuck's depiction in S11 was legit and truer to the sort of God he was for most of time. He was genuinely on the Winchester's side, despite needing to be distant.

S15 is the boys facing God's wrath. Chuck was fucking with the guys because he got tired of their bullshit. The "I've been controlling every single thing about your life from day 1" and "it's all just literally a show for my personal entertainment" was a lie constructed to really hurt them.

The last time Chuck came down and got involved, he explained very clearly exactly why he pulled away from the world. He wanted a world that could function independently. He wanted his creations to evolve and flourish. In his eyes, trying to fix everything for everyone was preventing this from happening. You can't learn from your mistakes without experiencing consequences.

From this and his conversation with Metatron about why humanity is so wonderful, we can gather Chuck's ultimate goal/desire was growth. The world is not perfect because it was designed to be perfected.

Even though Chuck has grown a bit jaded, he's sentimental towards the Winchester brothers. They fuck up a whole lot, but they always try their hardest to fix it and often succeed. Even their mistakes are generally made out of love or a desire to do good. They remain loyal and devoted to their family and overcome familial drama that even Chuck has failed to sort out.

Up against good, evil, angels, devils, destiny and God himself, they made their own choice. They chose family. And well...isn't that kinda the whole point?

Chuck was pleased with the boys at the end of this, despite it going against the "planned ending". Castiel, for his part in defying """God's plan""", was ressurected personally by Chuck (apparently more times than he can count).

Chuck gives more support to the boys than any other piece of his creation. He has faith in them, even when they don't have faith in themselves. He makes paths for their survival, stacks the cards in their favour, and directly saves their lives twice.

He does what he can so that they have the tools necessary to continue growing and saving his creation. He's the cosmic cheerleader in the background of their lives.

Another important thing to note about his conversation with Metatron - Chuck likes being Chuck. Prefers it, even. He enjoys being a mediocre writer and dating and having a blog. He wants to enjoy his work. He wants to be a part of his creation, not just its overlord in the clouds.

In S11, Chuck makes the effort to personally explain some of this to Dean. In particular, Chuck's policy on not interfering with problems his creations have the capacity to solve - even if that means people die or get hurt or the world ends.

With Amara we get a little peek into why the world isn't a paradise - the imperfections are part of what makes it beautiful. You can't have freedom without things getting a bit fucked up.

But after his feud with Amara is concluded, are the boys satisfied? Of course not! Any conversation about why Chuck can't be more involved is tossed out the window. And there's zero gratitude for anything Chuck has done for them ever, despite him giving them more than he's given anyone in millenia. Chuck nearly sacrificed his own life for the world, for the boys. He allowed their mother to be ressurected as a reward for their good work.

And what does Chuck get? Dean accusing him of actively causing every bad thing that's ever happened to them, despite most of it being the result of their own choices, and demanding Chuck ressurect everybody.

Now it's completely understandable and valid for Dean to feel this way and his prayer is fucking heartbreaking. But just imagine being Chuck. How irritating would that be?

So, Chuck shows the brothers what the God they imagine him to be would look like. A world centered around them with a sadistic overlord who uses them for entertainment. He takes away the meaning of their choices, their skills, and their victories. He pokes and prods and psychologically tortures them until he's finally (finally) overthrown.

The result is the boys get what they want. A God they chose and raised up themselves. A God who immediately comes to the exact same conclusion Chuck had - it's bad for God to interfere with people's lives. But by this point, it's seen as a good thing.

Their lives continue as normal. They still hunt, they still have to mourn the loss of their loved ones. The only thing that really changes from how things were under Chuck? Dean dies. The ending is bleak and pretty fucking depressing for the boys, considering the magnitude of their final victory.

And what is Chuck's ending? He has to actually be Chuck. A part of his creation, rather than above it. No longer will he hear the pleas and cries and condemnations of his creations. No longer will he be blamed for their bad choices. No longer will he be asked for help with things they could (and should) do on their own. He'll live out his days a mediocre writer who blogs about cats and then he'll die.

Chuck just happens to get exactly what he wanted in S11 and the boys learned the lesson he tried to impart back then in the process.

[silver-heller]

"I make murderous men cute, that's just my thing."

Note: For personal reasons, I like writing soft villains. I don't like the implication that makes my version of them "fake", lesser, or completely devoid from the canon I take large inspiration from. I'm not going to argue over preferences/interpretations, just don't be a dick about it. Ranking certain depictions as more "true" than others will get you blocked.

Greetings! I'm Nightmares or Silver. I'm an asexual, 22 year old transman (he/him) and this is my blog for most of my self shipping antics. I have a type and it's either evil or slightly crazed with glasses lol. I mostly write (too much) fanfiction and make random posts for my ships. I love hearing about other's F/Os and seeing all your guys' lovely creations! I am plural. If you don't know what this means or how to avoid spreading negative plural stereotypes, do not follow me.

I am okay with sharing all F/Os (except the OCs).

My main f/o is Mordecai Heller from Lackadaisy, who I've paired with my S/I Silver (he/him). I've written a lot of lore about them at this point, so if you ask about them expect to get your ear talked off.

Ao3 / F/Os / Lacka FOs / NSFW / Lacka College AU

DNI

*Certain canon x canon ships make me uncomfortable, particularly Rocky x Mordecai, Rocky x Serafine, and Rocky x Mordecai x Serafine. I also am not comfortable with Mordecai being shipped with Atlas or Mitzi, and/or Ivy or Freckle being shipped with Mordecai, Viktor, or Mitzi and Atlas as well. Freckle x the Savoys would also make me uncomfortable.

Please tag these ships properly or let me know a tag you use for them so I can block it. This does not include poly selfships with them, except where Atlas and Mitzi x Mordecai or Ivy x Mordecai are concerned. Viktor x Ivy or Freckle too, and Ivy or Freckle with Atlas or Mitzi. For those I will just outright block you. Sorry, but they squeak me out.

Not plural safe (if you make jokes about or reblog jokes that go along the lines of "I have an alter ego/other personality so I'm crazy" you're not plural safe). Minor x adult, incest, or bestiality shippers (aka characters that are just animals). Pro ship. Anti self diagnosis. Bigots of any kind. Exclusionists. Unnecessarily dictate how characters should be written (especially asexual characters). If you have F/Os from creepypastas I probably won't be comfy interacting with you. Drama/discourse blogs. Please tag things pertaining to the deaths of my F/Os, including theories. Thank you!

I have villain F/Os and enjoy following others with villain F/Os. If that bothers you this is not the place for you. That being said, characters that canonically commit acts of CSA, SA, or child abuse/murder make me extremely uncomfortable and I may block you if you self ship with villains of that descriptor. I am not comfortable with Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde F/Os, please don't follow me if you have them.

I hate vague posting with a passion and will block you if I see you do it.

About Discord Servers

I don't want to burst anyone's bubble, but, I don't join Discord servers. Why? Simply put, I block people for the sake of my own mental health. Some of these people are within the communities I reside most often in. However, Discord servers often mean I have to bend my block list to get along in and have a comfortable time in said server. 9 times out of 10 the instincts that made me block someone were correct. Therefore I prefer my blog because I can have an easier time curating my interactions with the community.

That being said I am totally down to chat with you on discord if you want to add me! Chatting one on one gives me more power to block people that make me uncomfortable and avoid people on my blocklist.

[aylacavebear]

Touched Introduction: An Author's Note

Here's an introduction to what a Touched is. It'll help you get your feet wet and have an idea of the creature 'Touched.' I hope you'll enjoy coming along on the adventures that will soon be shared here.

Word Count: 579

Please don't take my work. I've put a lot of thought and work into this idea, and it truly is all mine. It took lots of research to make sure things were and are accurate. Your comments, hearts, and reblogs mean the world to me.

There are no warnings for this, as it is only some information for future stories.

----------------------------------------- Touched Introduction: An Author's Note

Touched are something of an enigma. It will, of course, depend on the story with how they are viewed by not only other supernatural creatures, but also hunters, and humans. Gods from any pantheon get bored from time to time, and they need something for entertainment. Sadly, that typically means messing with humans, as they are the most fun to mess with, since the Christian God gave them free will.

I personally like Bastet. She’s from the Egyptian pantheon and is the Goddess of protection, protecting homes from evil and women and children from disease and illness. She was originally a fierce lioness warrior goddess of the sun. However, her ferocious nature may have been softened after the domestication of cats around 1500 BCE. She also had both nurturing and violent qualities, but her shielding and motherly aspects are often emphasized.

Bastet loved humans but knew she couldn’t directly interfere with their growth as a species. She could, however, choose certain humans and give them her gifts through a touch. The gifts the human received depended on the human and how Bastet’s powers interacted with their DNA. The human had to be younger than the age of five, or things always turned out badly, so she’d gotten very careful over the years.

There were two special humans, both of which had been women. One over a thousand years ago, and now this new woman, born to a family and would be an only child. These humans somehow got the ability to have healing blood, a way to keep their loved ones safe in a way no other Touched was able.

The abilities of her Touched ranged just as much as their personalities did. Everything from being able to transform into a cat that could talk or telepathically communicate to being cat-like but still looking completely human. Some could even communicate with other felines. It intrigued Bastet how each human she chose progressed throughout its life. It was the ones who had actual cat features, like ears, a tail, canines, and retractable claws, that fascinated her the most, watching how they dealt with what other humans saw as not normal.

Sometimes, just sometimes, Bastet would meddle in the affairs of other deities or supernatural creatures. Like the time, in one story, where she gave her gifts to the Christian God’s biological daughter. Or, in another story where she gave it to a Nephilim. Okay, perhaps that happened more than just once, but it was well worth the outcome.

Sadly, Bastet could never interact with her Touched. It was like a curse. Once the gift was given, the Deity was forced to watch from afar, unable to guide them directly. Bastet sometimes left clues with the child’s parents so they could guide the child, but sometimes, things turned badly for the child.

These are the stories of Bastet’s Touched. There will be series and one-shots, perhaps even two-parters. No two will be related, but now you have some information when you get to embark on the journey as the Touched and learning to navigate the world in so many different scenarios. I hope you enjoy the fun little things that have played through my mind over the last almost two years when this creature creation came to me. I did need something that would survive the perils that consistently tend to befall anyone who gets too close to the Winchesters, no matter what universe they end up in or come from.

----------------------------------------- Touched Master List Main Master List

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