#to think that all the other souls have stories just as expansive and emotional as clover n frisks. how fucked up is that. in a good way tho

[unregisteredskybox]

[@ysines becuz u asked :D] im gonna preface this rant by saying i think side order was GREAT!!!! i love roguelikes i love splatoon this was a dlc MADE for me,

that being said! the lore was obviously, unfortunately, not the focal point of the dlc, especially the final boss being [spoilers!] another sentient ai. i love the little guy, but tartar [my wife] did it better. so UNDER THE CUT will be a long rant as to what i would make for the final boss of the DLC, along with some art I made for it!!! Oh, and that final boss?

Order, a sentient collection of Eight's memories that deems ITSELF to be the real copy

alright, now that i have your attention, let me go into depth as to how this all began, side order spoilers obviously:

Marina created the Memverse to help all the octolings from the metro of course, but more specifically, her friend Eight. The entire memverse was based on their memories, using them as the "blueprint" for all memcake related technology, since theirs were fully intact. Not only that, but since Eight was not only unsanitized, in a right state of mind, and an incredibly capable fighter, they were the perfect basis for those CLIMBING the tower. if the memverse is brain surgery, than Eight's brain was the example used. makes sense? This is where thing's get weird, however. Eight's memories are embeded within the memverse itself, interconnected with all aspects of it. Functionally speaking, a part of their SOUL was in the memverse, a soul with lots of desires, dreams, and determination. They fought through kamabo co. after all, their soul wouldn't be so easily tamed. Marina allotted too much control over to Eight's memories, so as soon as the memverse was online, they were alive. Alive...

And alone.

The memverse was just booting up, and considering how big it was, it would likely take hours, maybe even days. Days that Not-Eight would have to spend wandering an unfished world alone, devoid of any meaningful colour. It was designed to be monochrome as it was easier to retain memories when climbing the spire, without significant colour to distract the climber. Worst part was, this individual was eight's memories BEFORE octo expansion, so the last thing they remember is falling after fighting agent 3, waking up here. Through time, other memories would spark creation within the world, from the sanitized octolings who helped on the project, but it was still a long and lonely time for Not-Eight. However, as I said, they're the blueprint for this world, and was interconnected with it, so they had a form of control. It wasn't a conscious decision, but rather, the unbearable feeling of loneliness caused the simulation to pull people IN, hoping to satiate the desire for connection the god of this world demanded. And, with our Eight also being integral to the memverse, the system decided the perfect fit would be to bring in their best bud Agent 4! ...Who Not-Eight didn't know because they've never met.

But, after a quick explanation, Four, smart as they are, picks up on the situation: something went wrong in the Memverse, and Eight only remembers her previous memories, and not her current ones. Alright, they've got it completely wrong, but it's the logical conclusion. The two do find solace in each other, however, as they wander the Memverse searching for...anything really. As this happens though, something starts to happen to Not-Eight. This entire time, they've felt like something was missing. Like when you wake up from a dream, and feel like you can remember it exactly, yet it immediately fades away. That, but constantly. They assume Four's story is correct, since it would explain the feeling, but it doesn't offer them any comfort. There's also Not-Eight's emotional state, since they've been wandering the memverse for days now, and Four's only done it for maybe a few hours. It's taken a toll on their mind, and by proxy, the Memverse itself. Remember, it's connected to them, their loneliness was why Four was here in the first place. As such, with their desire to be fulfilled, to remember something, the Memverse starts to overwork itself; it brings the spire into existence, the Jelletons, all of the challenges, much faster than it should, all for its God that doesn't even know it's a god in the first place. With this speed comes mistakes, or in computer terms, glitches. Just as Not-Eight's mental state effects the memverse, the memverse's stability effects Not-Eight. They start to, if only gradually, undergo a process known as Bleaching; when a Soul and Body are separated into two individual beings, the soul in the memverse, and the body outside of it. [This replaces greyscaling.] But, Not-Eight doesn't have a body, just a simulated one to house their soul. That means, while attempting to climb the spire with four, they start to deteriorate. Pieces of them glitch away, corals grow and cover their face, and features just disappear. It's an incredibly painful process, one that Four doesn't really understand, so they try to solve it in the only way they know how: getting to the top. It's hard, especially considering they have to carry Not-Eight up there, and have no colour chips [Only weapons they summoned the same way Pearl did], but they make it to the control room. Pulling up a monitor, they scroll to a section covering the Admins of the spire. Marina, Pearl, Four themselves, and...two instances of Eight. One of them is glitching out, so that's the one Four goes for, not bothering to question why there were two. They click the button to reset the palette, but...that was probably the worst thing they could've done. In an instant, Not-Eight's mind was flooded with the code of the entire memverse, it's innerworkings, what it was currently processing, and their identity. They knew within an instant that they were just MEMORIES, a shadow of another person. Yet, they also knew how much power they had over the world. Without another word, they immediately Bleached Four, creating the Parallel Canon boss and Order Defense Force. They knew that the "real" Eight would come for them, to subsume them, to replace them, so they would need defenses. Though they acted like a tough general on the outside, in reality, Order was horrified. They were, mentally, a fourteen-year old child who failed to escape to the surface and instead fell into what was practically Hell. A cold, barren landscape with no colour or emotions, a place where they would die by being assimilated into another person. The mask placed on the Parallel Canon boss wasn't something to control them, as they already had that power. Rather, it was to make other beings look more like themselves after they began to decompose. This, is Order, the commander of the spire:

The red bits on their body are pieces they can no longer use due to the Bleaching, which is basically trying to separate their soul in two, considering they don't have a body. All facial recognition they once had has been wiped clean, and they're more coral than octoling at this point. Now is when Eight and the rest of the gang enter the memverse, but how Order presents themself is different. They're still a dignified smoke cloud, as they were after Marina, but they harbor an irrational sense of hatred towards Eight, one that isn't cold or orderly. Boss fights are now, as many people have suggested, Eight fighting the person the palette belongs to. Inky clones of Marie or Big man, who dissipate into a cloud of smoke once you defeat them, with Order taunting/insulting Eight after the fact. However, palette orders are slightly changed, as the last one you get before Eights is Four's. Now, the Parallel Canon boss up to this point would've been the hairless clones specifically, because Order is saving Four for last. Once Eight reaches the top, Order does another monologue, and brings out Four in hopes that Eight's emotional attachment to them would make them give up. [It does not, as Eight is INCREDIBLY used to fighting their brainwashed friends.] Once Four is defeated, they're freed from the Bleaching/mind control, and exposes Order's identity in their fit of rage. Now, Order did genuinely like Four, so seeing them express such hatred for them puts them in a really terrible mood, especially considering Eight is one step closer to replacing them.

at this point, Order freaks out, and Eight probably would as well, considering that they look exactly like each other [Though Order's freakout is more anger and Eight's is more confusion.] Order's one goal now is to kill Eight and replace them before they can do the same. It probably has some sort of AM I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream esque monologue [can you see the inspiration? i love it so much] and deems itself to be the one true "eight." After escaping the tower, with a bit of exposition from both Four and Marina, the entire group basically figures out what's going on. Their respective reactions, however, are a little different, mainly between Eight and everyone else. Most of the group feels sympathetic for Order, as they're a 14 year old who's only known loneliness, the fake sunlight, and is currently at risk of being replaced as a person. Eight, however, has NO sympathy for Order whatsoever, an opinion they would definitely voice. They toiled and troubled through Kamabo Co and the spire just to get their memories back, but now their friends are arguing that they shouldn't? That they should remain without memories just to keep a fake person alive? I've been writing this with more of a story perspective than a gameplay one, so this would probably cause some divide in the group. How the Memverse works to me is after freeing Marina, all of them could come and go from the simulation as they please, like a normal VR. And, because I loooove angst, I could see Eight sneaking into the simulation when everyone else is gone and fighting Order themselves, since no one agrees with them.

Here's where I split the timeline a little, because honestly? I don't know how this should end! I could see two options, option 1. With plenty of time and convincing, they learn to coexist, Order eventually becoming like a little sister to Eight and the two of them living in harmony, completing each other. Option 2? One of them kills the other, permanently, and basically absorbs their mind, memories and bodies, just fitting with the personality of whoever won. IDK!!! I could draw smth for both maybe? Or if you, the lovely reader have any ideas???

And if you have any questions about this (or the aforementioned ideas) don't be afraid to drop an ask!!!!!!!! ooough that was long. thanks for reading : D

[lookbluesoup]

(Spoilers for EVERY expansion to follow)

I have been thinking about Alisaie again and I just. Have an ache over how terrified she is of losing people she loves.

I also really do love how insanely protective of the WoL she is, as much as hurts how desperate she is for you not to leave her.

That antagonism toward loss is such a recurring element throughout her story. Her fear of losing the WoL comes up frequently, and she's shown to be much more overtly afraid of harm coming to them than most of the other Scions (not that the others don't also worry, Alisaie's just so loud about it.) Which, personally, I really like about her. She may idolize the WoL, but she never forgets that they're human, too.

Anyway, this is a theme for her from the very beginning, and Alisaie is faced with a major loss in every. single. expansion. Her grandfather, Emery, the Call taking the Scions, Tesleen, and Ultima Thule. And throughout those she learns to keep her heart open nonetheless, to keep trying, to keep caring. That's what she tells the Endsinger. "We take each other's hand. Share in each other's courage. Follow in each other's footsteps. And turn sorrow into strength!"

I'm gonna shove some rambles and a BUNCH of quotes under the cut, here, because they make me emotional and I like having them in one place. This isn't all of them, but it's some of the one's that stuck out to me most in my 95987324876423 screenshots (since Tumblr only lets me put in 30 per post >_> )

The Coils of Bahamut, where she begins to hope her Grandad is still alive, only to find his body has been possessed and turned into a tool for his enemy, and the man she loved is beyond saving, and that his body is now a puppet being used to try to kill her...

The loss of Emery in "A Malm in Her Shoes" official short story, when Alisaie shuts down and stops looking for companionship:

In Stormblood, trying to dissuade the Qalyana from following Lakshmi after the death of the leader's daughter:

As the other Scions get Called to the First, their souls kidnapped and their bodies left behind:

When it's just the WoL and her, about to face Garlemald on the battlefield:

That her instinct is to reach for the WoL when you're both Called again...

In Shadowbringers, when Tesleen is corrupted by the Sin Eaters and transformed into an aether-hungry zombie:

Later, when you have to kill "Tesleen", if you run the dungeon with Alisaie in your party, at the end of it she will be facing back down the road, where her friend's body was, and wishing her a peaceful rest. (And if Alphinaud is also there, he will notice, too)

Then, when the Fuath kidnap and attempt to drown you, she searches for you frantically:

When the Light in you starts to break free and the WoL collapses, she's the first to speak, "Are you alright? Say something!" and is also the first of those gathered to take even a step toward you. She doesn't walk, she runs, and only stops when the Exarch interferes - but she's immediately ready to throw hands with him too when she starts to think he means harm:

She lashes out in frustration when trying to find a way to save the WoL from the Light doesn't turn up anything

By Endwalker, you can see how much she's opened up to the WoL and the rest of the Scions. How she invites you to join her around Sharlayan, surprises you with food, and is just generally so much more open and happy.

After you go missing in Garlemald, her and G'raha are the only two who run to meet the WoL on the road when they're spotted returning to camp.

And when you don't answer immediately, she asks if you're alright, with a much softer concern.

If you speak to her before chasing after Fandaniel and Zenos in the Tower, a battle you will have to undertake alone, she will give you some bonus dialogue and pray in front of the WoL:

If she's the one that visits you the night after returning from the Moon, she has a really touching bit of dialogue to offer the WoL (if you have not watched this cutscene please go to the Unending Journey book to replay it and pick the Alisaie route, there's so much inflection the text just can't capture):

And once she's out of the WoL's immediate view she SPRINTS away, she's the only potential visitor who will do that, as if opening up to you so much was still frightening and her courage only lasted so long.

Finally at Ultima Thule, as your friends are taken one by one, she gets progressively more distressed... (I am running out of image space so I'll type a couple of the shorter ones)

"No... Not Estinien too..."

"Y'shtola, no! You mustn't!"

I wish I could post the whole cutscene here but - in Endsinger, when you send your friends away, the amount of screen time dedicated to showing Alisaie realize what you are about to do, and begging you not to do it. The shock and desperation as she recognizes that you're taking away any chance she has at fighting by your side - at protecting you. That same outstretched hand:

And when she thinks you're going to die...

“[Sobbing] You can’t leave us... Not like this... If you do, I’ll never forgive you… So come on! Open your eyes and get up!”

Of all the companions fighting desperately to revive them and call the WoL back, her's is first the voice the WoL hears clearly through the fog, too. It's the first uninterrupted line and actually gets a text box, where the half-finished fuzzy sentences you hear companions shout before do not. If Dynamis played a part in bringing you back, her desperation may well have been a tipping point.

And then she sounds angry enough through the tears that she might just murder you again anyway

I could probably fit another 30 in here but those are some big ones.

I think it's a big part of what makes Alisaie such a favorite of mine, the struggle she goes through and the courage she has to keep caring anyway - something you can go back and see her learn throughout the series.

[you-cant-fuck-megaman]

so, as mentioned before, 30XX is a lot of fun. (i'm going to get back to updates soon, this game has simply siphoned my soul and now i am a child again experiencing the entire spectrum of megaman emotions at once.)

but one thing that's really starting to annoy me is the story. or rather, the complete lack of it. i guess it's true to the source material, given that the story in megaman isn't really all that great either, but at least it's straightforward before we hit the zero series. you know what you're doing, you're a little guy about three apples tall and there's a bad guy sending out robots you have to shoot. then you hit the zero series and it's just someone forgetting their meds and thinking Mechanical Violator Hakaider was a good movie (it was ok) then you hit ZX and fuck it we Kamen Rider now

point is, it's all pretty firmly straightforward shit. we know what's going on, there's an evil scientist destroying things with his robots. stop him. pls

30XX doesn't really tell you squat.

spoilers below, in case you're a moron like me and you're deeply emotionally invested in the story of megaman-alikes.

the opening tutorial cutscene features ace dying to wake up nina, who just says there's work to do. and then you hop out, shoot a robot, and end up in a space station base where a tiny lesbian tells you there's work to do. also ace is ok, you can jump into a capsule to turn into him. either that or nina is the fastest transitioning icon in media but go her i guess (go him??? idk how trans-ing works) you jump into the levels, shoot the bosses, and see a tall lesbian that tells you she's doing work and that you can't stop her work, and then the second largest cock i've seen comes out of the interdimensional hole and you mount it and you fight AU tiny lesbian and Alpha 1.0 pre-transition Nina and Ace in there.

what the fuck?

what am i doing? why am i here? what is happening? what the fuCK IS GOING ON???? WHAT AM I FIGHTING FOR?????????

the cursory idea is that you have to find the data terminals to learn what's going on in the world, but near as i can tell the tall lesbian isn't actually an evil scientist destroying things with her robots, because the world is already dying and so that's different because but it seems the more i get into things, the more lost i'm getting

characters will just randomly appear on the ship and i'm just expected to accept it. who is Delta, outside of being a dashing, charismatic, sexuality-threateningly handsome cool guy who likes a challenge? who is the scrap salvager, outside of maybe being Vika from 20XX? tiny lesbian says that if i vouched for them then they're all right to havE AROUND BUT I DIDN'T VOUCHE FOR THEM I HAVE NO CLUE WHO THEY UFCKING ARE!!!!!!!!!!

i suspect it's because of the expansion in scope in trying to make a bigger game. there's not really a lot of ways to really justify the plot of a roguelite, there's only so many methods you can explain away death and rebirth happening in-universe. last time i asked my doctor about the cycle of samsara he just told me "you have to wake up, the accident wasn't your fault". in 20XX, you're just a pair of flash-cloned experiments doing experimental runs. and that's really all the context you need; you have a setup, a goal, an antagonistic force, and a reason to do things there's the question about how the game world continues after you win the game and destroy everything and escape the space station, but i didn't say it was perfect. but it was good! it made sense!

meanwhile, 30XX seems to be about multiversal collapsing and each run is a separate world disparate from each other. there's too many worlds and each world is trying to share in the same place because the infinite universe is actually finite. and nina was demonized after 20XX because of her super-power because despite Sharp and Flat both being idiots they were actually, like, super-geniuses that made the strongest robots ever. (these are the same guys that mass-produced buzzsaw hamsters) oh, and everyone's already dead??? man this sure is some tonal dissonance from how fucking goofy everything is. not three minutes ago i saw the universe's second-largest cock plunge through time and space. midgard? more like midhard hah hah hah hahhhhhh

at the end of the day they're focused on the gameplay instead of the story. and that's perfectly fine. admirable, even, for a megaman-style project. a lot of megaman fanstuff creators (myself included) tend to masturbate text out with forces rivaling the niagara falls. oh baby, expand that wordcount. it's good to see something that just wants to focus on jumping and shooting instead of trying to write the next masterpiece exploring the nature of the human condition. but i'll admit it's a little underwhelming. i liked nina and ace and i cared about what they were doing, and 30xx doesn't seem to be willing to really flesh them out.

oh well, time for another run! 9/10 game tbh

[plounce]

one thing that im turning over in my head as i play ff14 is how it, as an MMO, is a type of medium that can support the interwoven complexity and cameos and juggled spinning plates as comics can. there’s a lot of stuff going on simultaneously and subjectively nonlinearly (real quick before i continue this conversation with you im gonna go kill 5 giant crabs on the other side of the map) (while i wait for the next issue of this comic im gonna go read a ton of the backlog of an auxiliary comic), but all of these things are fairly easily sorted by era (expansions for mmos, writers/decades for comics) and are thus easier to see as coexisting. you can hop from storyline to storyline, even as the “main” storyline scoots forward. you can focus on reading x-factor or new mutants, even as the main x-book deals with the grand sweeping changes of mutantdom.*

you could stick to the main story and understand it pretty well, sure, but the main story DOES pull characters and threads from sidequests or spinoff comics, and knowing them enriches the entire experience, so wander around the whole thing and get to know what’s going on with the refugees in quarrymill who you help get medicine, or the girl on the teen team who spent years in hell getting her soul siphoned away, because they could eventually get plucked from the dugout or from obscurity and get to be relevant to the main plot. knowing all these random little things increases your emotional investment in the media as a whole. you get to go “hey, that guy!! i remember him!! i think he got framed for a crime but was eventually revealed as innocent??” and both comics and most active MMOs are serial media. so there’s an element of anticipation and open-endedness and speculation to your perception of the story/characters/experience, which keeps you engaged in the media as a whole. and while that is true of like all serial media, with the two im discussing here, the pulls and cameos and sudden significances can be a lot more varied.

a lot of other fictional mediums keep their focus a lot more linear and constrained, which can be good for them (it’s a lot easier to pay attention to what’s important if there isn’t a lot of other stuff going on) and also much more easily achieved by how those mediums work. a tv show only has so much budget for regular cast and special guest stars, and depending on how episodic v serial the show is, promotions to recurrence can vary. and episodic television doesn’t tend to have grand plots that cataclysmically move the world forward.

although ive never read it, i believe discworld also comes close to this experience, because while there is a chronology, a worthy strategy in reading them is to go through the books by subject rather than just straight publishing order, but you could also just wander around and go “holy shit!! vetinari!!”. star trek does this to a certain extent (although the different series kept themselves much more self-contained than my examples here, aside from character crossovers), as well as star wars EU novels (rip) (which are also not really their own independent media). someone could probably try to argue that the MCU is trying to do this, but imo the mcu is way too shallow and bland and derivative, and is just trying to do what comics have always done way better.

*of course one difference is that with MMOs, main story progression is also necessary to unlock new areas, new gear, new materials, etc that are necessary to successfully do all the other quests. the main storyline keeps you leashed that way. comic books, on the other hand, are much more easily pick-and-choose - which can lead to you picking up the next issue of teen titans and going “wait what?? why are we in a destroyed metropolis all of a sudden?? weren’t we in the middle of a mission to antartica with some low stakes teen drama???” because DC decided all the books are gonna participate in a big crossover event storyline. so rather than leashed, you get lassoed to the main storyline of the universe.

[annaki-octo]

Splatoon means so much to me.

I started playing the game really late, I started with Splatoon 2 just to see if I would like the game - Splatoon 3 had already released when I first tried out Splatoon for the first time, but my partner already had Splatoon 2 and I wanted to make sure I would like the game first before actually buying Splatoon 3. I think it has been nearly a year now since I had first began to play it for the first time.

And I turned out to fucking love it. So much that I did end up getting Splatoon 3 and I love it even more.

Because of my DID, particularly because we are polyfragmented, interests and hobbies are very difficult for us to find, because we will become attached to something, but then the attachment fades within a week or so.

I expected my love for Splatoon to fade, but it... Hasn't! I seem to love playing this game no matter what "mode" I'm in (which, for us, is code for "no matter which alter is fronting).

Sometimes I am an alter who prefers one mode or the other (such as Salmon Run over Turf War, or vice versa), and sometimes I am playing the game less than usual, but so far, I have yet to really. Detach from my intense interest in this game. It means a lot to me.

...But specifically, I really want to talk about the Octo Expansion, as somebody who has DID, and how all of that pertains to stuff that happens in the Octo Expansion.

I get very, very emotional over the Octo Expansion.

The first time I watched through the full "movie" "playthrough" of Octo Expansion, I got very intensely emotional over the ending with Pearl, Marina, Cuttlefish and Co. all fighting Tartar. I get very emotional over the Octo Expansion in general. The whole story about octolings and such being "sanitized", which is essentially a form of brainwashing. It's all so very emotional to me, ESPECIALLY as somebody who likely may have experienced programming.

["The process of sanitizing Octarians with this ink results in them losing all memory and identity and submit to Kamabo Co.'s ideas. Marina notes that the Sanitized Octarians appear to have no pulse or sign of life."]

As someone who was likely programmed and generally as someone who has DID, this shit speaks to my SOUL. Whenever I go back and read this on the Inkipedia, I get shivers down my spine.

And the general premise of Octo Expansion where you play as an octoling who has No memories of who they are, how they got where they are, anything, and then you have to play through to "earn" your memories back in the form of "memory fragments" (memcakes)?

It hits me deep in the gut. It all gets me so, so emotional.

I don't know how to end this post here, I just really needed a space to get out all of my thoughts about this here. I haven't yet seen anyone talk about this stuff with relation to having DID, and I really wanted to.

[namelesswrites]

Shattered

Did I just now realize I never put this story up on Tumblr? Absolutely I fuckin’ did. All well. Enjoy if you haven’t already seen it. Enjoy it again if you have.  🚨 18+ NSFW V1/Gabriel

It came by way of a gentle palm across Gabriel’s helm; the moment that he broke.

Above him, V1 was crouched with it’s hand outstretched as it carefully collected every drop of decadent blood belonging to the angel beneath it, as if it were something to be savored. Deep cuts and bullet wounds litter Gabriel’s body, making it nearly impossible to believe that this was the very same machine that had clashed with him in a battle that had nearly shook the foundations of hell itself. He had been left bleeding and beaten down on the blood-soaked floor, and now it touched him with a softness that Gabriel had never known.

To think that he could consider The Machine drinking his life and gaining strength from it with a deceptively soft hand to be a kind gesture on his behalf after sealing his final fate was laughable. For a brief, foolish moment however, Gabriel could imagine that this touch was for him. To ache for such simple comfort after giving his all was unlike him, but in the still moments as V1 drank it’s fill and held him softly, he was struck with a desperation to not let this touch end.

Gabriel reached up and grabbed a firm hold on V1’s wrist, with his heart beating harder than ever, and adrenaline coursing through his body like it never had before. The rush of battle still coursed through him and drove his actions, filled him with boldness where as otherwise he may not have dared. He used what little strength remained in him to hold on for dear life as V1 began to pull back from his touch, perhaps anticipating another brawl coming. However there was no fight left in Gabriel anymore, and rather than attempt to throw The Machine off of him and stand once more, he pulled, dragging it closer to himself until he could throw his other arm around it, and dig his fingers between the gaps of plated armor to find a firm purchase.

V1 stilled in Gabriel’s arms, as if unsure what to do, what Gabriel wanted from it. In that moment, Gabriel wasn’t quite sure either, but the very thought of letting go hurt deeper than any wound he had suffered at it’s hand. The loss of his connection to The Father’s light seemed to pale in comparison then and there, to the idea of V1 casting him aside and treading further down into the depths of hell, Leaving Gabriel as nothing but another stepping stone on it’s path of Hell’s desecration. This could not be the end.

How foolish. It was a machine, an object with no soul or heart to speak of. It had taken so much from Gabriel… yet still there was more. He had given his all in that fight, and now all he could do was give up, give in. Give himself over to The Machine. His grip lessens on V1’s wrist, and as the final bits of his resolve come crumbling down, he turns his head to press his helm more firmly against it’s open palm. He couldn’t speak, his throat tight with emotions that he could barely restrain, and so he silently prayed to a God which no longer listened that V1, a mere object, understood what he wanted.

It would have been so easy for V1 to rip it’s arm away from Gabriel and finish him off for good, take it’s fill and leave, but there’s a moment of hesitance from The Machine before it seems to relax, the tension easing in it’s frame. Gabriel could have sobbed as V1 allows itself to be pulled closer and held in his arms, and he can feel the overheated frame thrumming with life and energy against his chest. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Gabriel allows himself this indulgence. He wants to touch, and so he does, letting fingertips trace across expansive plating so expertly crafted. The Machine’s head stays cocked to the side in curiosity as it simply watches for a moment, giving Gabriel this moment to worship as he pleased. It’s thumb gently scraped across the chin of Gabriel’s helm to swipe at yet another drop of blood before it fell, and the angel below shivers at the rough sound that comes from such a touch.

From each seam in V1’s armor, Gabriel can feel a soft rush of warm air pass his fingers. It almost seems to invite him in, to touch deeper as it’s plating flares just the slightest bit and Gabriel can see intricate wiring and mechanics built below. The gentle ridge of it’s spine seems to arch just the slightest bit as he drags his fingertips up it’s length, and it leads straight up to the pack on it’s back from which it’s wings extend from it’s body. When he had first set eyes on V1, he had seen it’s wings as nothing more than a crude mockery of the gift of flight that angels had. What it could accomplish with them though had far exceeded all his expectations. Now, as he stared up at their glowing visage, he admired the beauty in them as they fanned out behind it.

Gabriel’s wings flicker under him, and he can’t help but wonder if V1’s wings hold the same sensitivity that his own do…

Just as quickly as it had begun, the peaceful tranquility between the two is broken, as Gabriel dares to touch where he himself aches to be touched by The Machine. His hands having slowly wandered up V1’s back and made their way to it’s pack, he gives into temptation and drags his palm up towards the gorgeous glow of it’s mechanical wings. V1 straightens up in an instant, its hand whipping down from where it had been barely ghosting along Gabriel’s helm to wrapping firmly around his throat, and it pinned him to the floor. It’s wings hiked up high, flicking away from Gabriel’s hand on instinct, and the relaxed air about it vanishes without a trace.

As V1’s grip tightens around Gabriel’s throat, he gasps what little air he can in, and his own wings flap uselessly against the floor while he squirms beneath V1. Under the heavy bulk sat upon his waist, he can hardly move an inch, and he’s left completely at The Machine’s mercy. It’s attention does seem to be drawn to Gabriel’s wings as they flutter and flicker in and out of existence, but only for the a moment before it’s sight settles back on Gabriel. With no attempts to harm it, it slowly loosens it’s grip around his throat, and Gabriel takes a deep, stuttering breath of air into his lungs before a desperate plea spills past his lips.

“Machine, please, I-… I…”

V1 stalls, as if waiting to see if Gabriel would continue to speak his sinful thoughts aloud for the first time. Words fail him however, frustratingly so, and so he dares to touch The Machine once more, this time where V1 can clearly watch and observe what Gabriel is doing.

Gabriel’s palm comes to rest against V1’s chest plates, and beneath it, he can feel the vibrations of mechanical systems whirring harder than before, heat radiating off of the newly healed metal. V1 watches carefully, it’s wings flicking out once more as Gabriel’s hand slowly drags down it’s front. His fingertips dip into the seams of it’s armor along the way, brushing against hidden wires that are likely far too delicate for their own good, and yet V1 remains seemingly frozen in place this time until Gabriel’s hand begins to linger right along it’s hip. Blood courses through a fuel pump that is exposed at the joint where his leg meets it’s pelvic plating, and as Gabriel delicately brushes along, there’s finally movement.

The hand wrapped around Gabriel’s throat eases it’s grip up, and Gabriel takes a few deep, shaky breaths as the tension slowly melts away once more. What little composure he manages to regain is lost however, as V1 is quick to follows his lead. From where it’s sat upon him, it has an easy reach towards Gabriel’s own wings, and he gives a quiet gasp at the sensation of a hot, metal hand spread broadly as it strokes along the vast expanse of one of one. The touch is exploratory, meandering with seemingly no real goal in mind but to simply see what would happen. It watches, almost entranced, by the lingering lines of white left by it’s touch as it drags it’s fingers in meaningless patters. Slowly the light trailing behind it’s touch fades, giving V1 all the room in the world to begin it’s lazy path across Gabriel’s wings once more. They twitch and flutter against V1’s hand, and below it Gabriel gives a quick nod of his head in approval, a quiet groan at the simple touch as he tries to push up into it, to sit up closer and be face to face with The Machine.

A fool’s errand really, as Gabriel is quickly put back into his place when V1 grasps the front of his breastplate and shoves down hard until he’s pinned to the marble floor with it’s iron grip. The weight on him feels heavier now, with V1 leaning into it to hold him down and allow it time to do as it pleases, at it’s own pace. The thought of it, of this violent, impudent terror that had reigned down upon hell and brought low the greatest threats imaginable… the idea of letting go at it’s hands set a fiery heat ablaze within Gabriel. This was not hate, it likely never had been. This feeling was something so, so much stronger, and it threatened to consume him and everything he had ever been.

While one of V1’s hands holds Gabriel firmly in place, the other continues to stroke along the sharp edge of his wing. As it touches, the wing seems to flicker in and out of it’s perception, though whether or not it could see his wings didn’t matter much to it, because it could feel them, and Gabriel could feel the delicate touch on such sensitive appendages whether they were visible or not. It drags a single finger down to the intricate runes lining the wing’s edge, and with the sharp claw of it’s stolen red arm, it traces each angelic sigil as if it could comprehend what was inscribed. Gabriel had his doubts that it could actually read the words there, and it was far more likely that V1 simply liked the way that the claws felt scraping against the physical manifestation of his holy light.

What was left of it, anyways.

To touch an angel’s wings is forbidden among the Holy Host, as they are far too sensitive for their own good, and to touch them may instill impure thoughts into one. Such temptations were not to be acted upon, yet here Gabriel relished in the sensation. V1’s hands were rough, scratched and littered with small dents that were too minute to be repaired by it’s system. After an evening of nothing but excruciating pain at the severing of his connection to God, utter humiliation, and a deep aching fatigue settling in every single muscle that Gabriel had, to feel such a soft touch sent tremors through his body. A soft sigh escapes him, and his breastplate is released so that V1’s hand may join the other in it’s exploration of Gabriel’s body.

It’s fingers dance over the shimmering gold sigil trailing down his torso just below the breastplate. His muscles tense under V1’s touch as wounds are brushed, and V1’s fingers dip into the bloody openings in search of more fuel. A gash had been left on Gabriel’s side, leaving his flesh flayed open and tender. As V1’s touch drifts over this large wound, there is a pained groan that escapes Gabriel at the intense sting building up while his blood is absorbed and cleaned away by V1. It’s other hand remains at Gabriel’s wing however, petting softly towards the base of it with it’s thumb, tempering the sharp edge of pain gentle strokes. Something about the strange dichotomy of pain and pleasure hitting his senses at once leaves Gabriel breathless, and he lets his helm tips back to the marble floor as he simply takes everything in as he can.

Wounds and blood have left Gabriel’s angelic visage tarnished, truly a sight to behold, but it V1 seems unsatisfied with the state that he is in. Blood is smeared across Gabriel’s torso as V1 drags it’s hand down further, towards his belt to catch the metal by it’s claws. It paws at it, trying to figure out how to unclasp it, or at least how best to shove it, and Gabriel’s tassets, aside so that it can continue to touch and explore to it’s utter desire, but quickly seems to grow frustrated at the materials keeping it from freely touching more of Gabriel’s dark, gold adorned skin.

Something in the back of Gabriel’s mind told him he should have probably wondered what V1’s motives here were, why it seemed to care at all, but he had never been one to question blessings that came his way. Their battle had driven Gabriel to new heights of delight and passion that he had never truly experienced before, and now it seemed as if V1 wanted to take him further, to take him in his entirety.

Oh by the light of The Father, such a thought is like lightning down his spine. Gabriel’s thighs squeeze together tightly under where V1 is sat, rubbing against one another just a little, and in an instant he is all too aware of the slight vibrations coming off of V1’s frame as it sits in his lap, the soft heat from the metal touching his skin where his cloths have ridden up. There’s long since been a warmth settling low in his core, a hint of wetness between his legs, and there is mortification mixed with thrill. He’s losing the battle once more, but this time it’s within himself.

Gabriel’s hands join V1’s, and he quickly helps unhook the straps holding his armor in place, casting each piece aside as it comes undone. Never before would he have imagined exposing himself like this to anyone, but V1 has no hesitation as it lifts itself off of him and moves back so that it could grip Gabriel’s ankles and drag him closer. It’s assists in lifting Gabriel’s breastplate off of himself, and rather carelessly tosses the intricate armor aside. V1 doesn’t even care to look where it lands, it’s gaze remaining locked on the newly exposed chest before it, and while Gabriel works on unhooking his belt from around his waist, V1 delights itself at exploring newly exposed skin.

Gabriel is by no means small in stature, even when compared to V1. He has strength and power behind his convictions, and though he had lost to V1 in the end, it was that strength he held that had made their fights all the more brutal and devastating. He put his all into each battle, and V1 had suffered grievous injuries at his hand as well, perhaps only pulling through due to it’s ability to heal itself by Gabriel’s own wounds.

Now, with that armor removed, V1 seemed to take great appreciation in the muscles Gabriel had hidden beneath. Sharp claws and rough metal lightly trace up Gabriel’s sides and palm over his pecs. Such indecency, allowing allow V1 to grope him like he was some whore. To be quite honest the fact that V1 seemed to want to touch and explore his body just as Gabriel wanted to do to it was surprising, to say the least. The idea that The Machine thought of him as attractive… it was outlandish to think, yet Gabriel wanted nothing more than for that to be true.

As V1 hunkers over him, almost seeming to rub itself upon him while Gabriel struggles with his belt, it’s hard to deny that The Machine holds some interest in him beyond refueling. There’s little fresh blood to be found on his chest, most of it having dried and started to go crusty at this point, yet V1 didn’t seem to be looking for that at all. It just wanted to touch, to feel Gabriel, and feel his strength beneath it. It’s hands slide up over his pecs towards his shoulders, one moving up to cup his throat in a far more gentle manner than it had earlier, while the other begins to make it’s way down the side of Gabriel’s arm. Gabriel feels it’s fingers brush against his wrist just as he manages to get his belt and tassets unhooked, and V1 quickly grabs hold of them to toss them away with the rest of Gabriel’s discarded armor, a loud clatter of metal sounding out across the cathedral. There’s little care for the gauntlets and greaves Gabriel still has on, with V1 only having interest in getting rid of the plating directly in it’s way.

The closeness shared between them for a few brilliant moments ends as V1 sits back on it’s calves and places it’s hands on Gabriel’s knees, spreading them apart and stroking over the trail of glinting gold that wound along his legs with it’s thumb before it follows that path higher. The gold curves around Gabriel’s thighs, only to disappear underneath the skirt worn below his armor. V1 doesn’t hesitate to follow it, touching as if Gabriel’s thighs were something to be cherished. It’s hands wander higher and slip under the cloth to push it out of the way, leaving it bunched up around Gabriel’s waist. Below that, what little fabric remains is carelessly torn away and left in tatters as V1 seeks to rid itself of any and all barriers between it and Gabriel.

V1’s reward is a gorgeous sight; Gabriel open and willing for it, a glistening slit between his legs betraying his arousal. V1 parts Gabriel’s thighs wider, squeezing firm muscles that tense under it’s touch before it runs a gentle thumb up the wet lips towards his clit, gathering slick as it does so. The shudder that racks through Gabriel is encouragement enough, and it craves more.

With two fingers, V1 carefully parts the lips, and Gabriel can hear a low droning hum emit from V1. A sound of appreciation. To be viewed like this, touched and made weak by V1’s hand, it should have been the ultimate source of his shame and guilt. Instead however, Gabriel’s burning embarrassment is fueled by the fact that V1’s fingers have pulled away and come back wet, and that his arousal comes not from it’s gentle touches and exploration of his body, but from the hard fought battle that had rattled him to his very core. To be pushed to his limits by this machine and shown true strength and dominance in battle, to come face to face with his equal and experience the heights of what a fight for his life could really be, that is what had left his body buzzing with warmth and ready to be touched.

He had been wet before the battle had even ended, and now V1 could see that plain as day. That is where his shame was centered.

Whether V1 cared or not was unknown to Gabriel, but it certainly took advantage of the natural lubricant it slowly coated it’s fingers with as it teased and touched. As Gabriel felt warm fingertips dip unto him just the shallowest bit, he takes a sharp inhale, holding it for a moment as he can’t help but expect some amount of pain to shoot through him. None comes his way however. V1’s fingers are surprisingly smooth, even as Gabriel instinctively clenches when it grows bold and a single finger is slowly eased into him, he finds that there isn’t really much feeling to it at all actually. He exhales, keeping his feet firmly planted on the ground and his fists balled tight, but even the careful drag of V1’s finger as it pulls back, only to push in once more feels more like a gentle pressure rather than any pain or pleasure. On it’s next pull, V1 curls it’s fingers within him, as if trying to coax Gabriel into relaxing around it.

It’s not what Gabriel expected by any means, but it’s better than what he feared. His breath is shaky as he forces himself to try and unwind around V1, let the machine work him open so that he may eventually find this pleasure he’s heard promised time and time again by such acts. His body certainly reacts to the touch, preparing for what was to come as Gabriel can hear the soft wet noises as V1 steals away his innocence. With V1’s other palm it rubs soothing circles into his thigh, moving higher until it comes to rest against his hip. Worry and fear begin to abate, and slowly Gabriel begins to relax.

Welcoming in the second finger isn't quite as easy of a task however, as the gentle pressure and sensation of simply having something in him changes and Gabriel feels the first hints of a burning stretch. He’s given little warning aside form the feeling of two fingertips at his entrance before they sink into him, and he parts beautifully around them. Gabriel claws uselessly at the ground, a small, choked off noise passing his lips as the unfamiliar feeling eats at his nerves, but… still, this is nothing to him. He’s laying there, bleeding on the floor from wounds left by V1, even if they are slowly clotting now. That is pain.

The severing of his light and the harsh punishment of his brethren. That is pain.

V1 watches him closely, head tilting just a bit as it looks for any sort of reaction from Gabriel, and after a few moments of taking in the feeling, Gabriel nods, urging V1 to continue. He will get through this. With his consent, V1 lowers it’s gaze back down to what it was doing, and it sets to work.

This is far more than simple human mimicry. V1 touches with purpose, and knowledge of what every single touch it gives does to Gabriel. As it’s fingers work him open with slow, calculated strokes, Gabriel was beside himself with a myriad of sensations he had never quite anticipated. His time in King Minos’ company did little to prepare him for what this actually was, and honestly he doubted anything ever could have. This impossible closeness, a sense of fullness, an instinctual tension locking his whole body up at once, and a mild discomfort from the stretch around V1’s fingers gently burning him alive. It’s movements are steady though, confident and smooth, never wavering even as Gabriel squirmed and struggled to compose himself.

V1 spreads it’s legs wide, forcing Gabriel’s legs further apart as well as it does so. He had been struggling to fight the urge to close his thighs around V1’s, and if he couldn’t maintain the position himself, then V1 was more than keeping him pinned in place instead. Thankfully, after the small bit of encouragement, Gabriel shifted and dug his heels into the floor as best as he could, attempting to ground himself once more. He could feel V1’s thumb rub slow circles against his hip in an attempt to soothe any discomfort he might have felt away, before slipping lower, dipping it’s thumb down to flick almost playfully against Gabriel’s clit. The first touch is feather light, barely registering to Gabriel, but it’s quickly followed by a much firmer pressure with V1 rolling it’s thumb in small circles against the sensitive bud as it continues to work it’s fingers at a steady pace within him.

Gabriel lets out the softest moan, the sound catching him off guard every bit as much as it seemed to catch V1 off as well. It’s head tilts to the side, wings flickering and twitching behind it, and Gabriel is hit with the urge to touch. Not now though. With battles lost to V1 twice now, Gabriel knows he is to stay right as V1 placed him, and simply take what is given to him, nothing more, nothing less. There’s a thrill in that thought, and he gives into it, simply letting his helm fall back against the floor as V1 leans forward, seeming to search for the sound sweet once more.

As he struggles to keep himself still under V1’s touch, Gabriel’s body aches to move. To move closer, to seek out more of this wonderful sensation slowly building in his core, and at the same time, to move away from such intensity before it completely overwhelms him. He can do neither though, and so as the warmth that had been twisting inside him begins to erupt into a fiery flame, he simply melts.

Gabriel’s breath picks up, his chest rising and falling with labored movements, and V1 watches with an intense gaze. His head is tipped back, hands scratching lightly at the floor, seeming unsure of what to do with his himself as V1 showers him with attention he never knew he needed. Gabriel brings one hand to his chest, fingers dragging over his chest in a similar path that V1’s own hands had taken, slowly following a lingering trail of heat down over the shimmering gold trim leading downwards. He lifts his hands, letting his fingers brush against V1's helm, and it pauses briefly at the touch so that it can reach up and grasp Gabriel's hand in it's own. V1 pulls his hand away from it, though rather than simply pushing it away entirely, it guides his hand down between his legs to touch there instead.

There’s a brief moment of confusion that quickly fades as mortifying realization dawns on Gabriel when V1 presses his fingers against himself in an encouraging manner. It guides his touch over his clit a few short times before leaving Gabriel to his own devices.

Oh.

Such acts were… unfamiliar to Gabriel of course. Desire itself was not exactly a sin, but acting upon it certainly was, and he had never fallen to such devilish temptations before. Yer here he lay, legs spread wide for V1, wet and desperate to see just how far this gentle pleasure could be taken. As V1 continues to work it’s fingers deeply into him with every gentle thrust of it’s hand, it’s gaze remains locked firmly on Gabriel, watching and waiting to see what he would do. There was expectation as it looked upon him, and under the intensity of it’s stare, his resolve crumbles.

With a shaky sigh, he adjusts his fingers just a little, and gives a tentative swipe across his clit, barely touching really, but it seems to appease The Machine all the same. There’s a low rumble from somewhere deep in it’s chest, and this time as it draws it’s hand back, Gabriel feels not two, but three of V1’s fingers work their way into him with little warning. Only one additional finger but the stretch feels like so much more than that, even with as eased as V1’s movements have become given how slick Gabriel was. Gabriel freezes, and turns his head quickly, making a miserable attempt to bite of a groan as V1 kept to the pace it had set before. The silent instruction he had been given left his mind entirely as all he could think about was how this already felt like too much, he couldn’t imagine taking anymore. V1 was quick to remind him of what he was supposed to do though, reaching up with it’s now freed hand and flicking the back of Gabriel’s hand where it rested uselessly between his legs. Start again.

What could Gabriel do aside from hope to follow V1’s lead? The very thought of touching himself for V1’s viewing pleasure made Gabriel’s face heat in utter embarrassment, but even he couldn’t deny that having V1’s full, undivided attention was worth any indignation he might have felt about such a shameful act.

Pressure. V1 had touched him harder than this, and clearly it held no misconceptions that Gabriel was someone that needed to be treated delicately. Gabriel’s touch isn’t as confident as it could be, but he lets out a slow breath and begins once more, rubbing his fingers against his clit in slow, measured circles as he tested the waters. Pleasant, but not enough. A bit faster, perhaps…

There is a flicker in V1’s wings, and they almost seem to hike upwards just a little as it watches Gabriel’s hand work over himself. It’s internal fans were running hard enough for Gabriel to hear now, and there was something about that sound that got to him. V1 was pleased, with him, with what it saw, whatever the case was it didn’t matter. It’s approval was more than enough to drive Gabriel on and touch himself more earnestly. He presses his fingers down a little harder, slowly picking up speed in an attempt to match what V1 had done to him so briefly before. He’s rewarded for his efforts with a gush of hot air from V1’s fans, and a firm grip against his hip dragging him closer as V1 works it’s fingers as deeply into Gabriel as it can manage, coaxing a beautiful, surprised moan from him as it does.

Gabriel finds that his own touch is just what he needs to ease the low burning stretch he feels between his legs, as it counters the rough drag of V1’s fingers when it pulls them back only to thrust them back in harder than before. His wings flutter, all eyes wide as V1 begins to show him something that could nearly be described as divine. What sin is this? It’s a lie, he realized.

Any hesitation Gabriel held about pleasuring himself quickly falls away, and as he lifts his hips just the slightest bit to welcome V1 home, he utters quiet praise, ‘By The Father’s light, please… Machine, I-… I need-’

More. To feel warmth again, to wash away the ugly truth and lies that have been whispered to him by The Council for so long now. V1 only seems to encourage him, leaning far over him once more until they’re face to face. With a deep thrust of it’s fingers, Gabriel sobs. It’s pleasure, anguish, a total loss of control and yet in this moment he has more agency that he has had in his whole life. He throws an arm around V1’s neck to keep it close, and it makes no attempts to pull away. Gabriel’s heavy pants morph into quiet worship for the furthest thing from a god imaginable. Sacrilege.

Gabriel throws his head back, hitting the floor but it goes unnoticed as he almost frantically works his fingers against his clit, pushing himself down onto V1’s fingers as best as he could manage as if to meet it’s touch. It seems like all at once, the steadily building heat and pleasure coiling within him becomes almost unbearable, like a tension winding tighter and tighter within him. Gabriel’s thighs squeeze tightly on either side of V1, but thankfully this time he is not chastised for snapping his legs partially shut. He couldn’t even begin to help it if he tried anyway, as it all becomes too much and something snaps within him, leaving him awash with ecstasy.

And V1 watches, as the angel comes undone before it.

The strong, steady pulses of Gabriel squeezing around it’s fingers comes in waves, coupled with an undignified shout that could have put the residents of Lust to shame. V1 hardly even moves, letting Gabriel take his pleasure with little more than quick, shallow thrusts as he trembles almost violently around it. Gabriel all but curls in on himself as he is so entirely overwhelmed by a euphoria he’s never felt before, hips jerking up against V1’s hands in the few final moments of his climax, before finally the tension melts away to a warm sense of contentment, and Gabriel goes slack underneath V1.

Slowly, carefully, V1 eases it’s fingers out of Gabriel as he is wracked with tremors, leaving him to recover for a few blissful moments. They’re coated in a thick, sticky substance that it curiously spreads between it’s fingers. It reaches down between it’s own legs, palming across the thin panel covering delicate parts and systems it had never used before. There had never been a need. It drags it’s wet fingers across the already slightly parted seam, and it’s wings tremble behind it as it turns it’s gaze back to where Gabriel was laid out breathlessly before it. It’s single golden eye starts to dim just a bit as power and energy is redirected lower with a new goal in mind.

After what seems like an eternity, Gabriel begins to return to his senses. His head feels like it’s had a warm fog settle over it, and the overwhelming need he had felt for V1 to touch him has eased it’s grip on his very being for the moment. He feels lighter, as if something weighing him down had been removed and cast aside. When he feels V1’s hands settle on his skin once more, there is no trepidation, only anticipation. Fear and uncertainty had been silenced, and so Gabriel lay back in waiting, open, legs spread wide as if inviting V1 to touch and explore more, to do with him as it pleased.

What he isn’t expecting is a hard grip on his waist, and to be flipped over onto his front with degrading ease. Before he can fully gather his wits, V1 pulls Gabriel’s hips up and back, giving it a full few of his ass, and the soaking cunt it had worked over with it’s fingers. For an angel of The Lord to be put into such a compromising position, made to look like nothing more than a cheap whore, it’s unthinkable, the purest of sins. It makes Gabriel shiver at the very thought of what he must look like from V1’s perspective.

What would The Council think of this is they saw him like this, giving into such indecent wants? Giving it up to a machine? A heavy sense of shame flows through Gabriel as the reality of what he’s done sinks in.

Those thoughts and concerns are quickly wiped from his mind as V1 grabs him by the back of his helm, shoving his head down hard into the marble floor and effortlessly pinning him as it does so. It leaves Gabriel dazed for just a second as his head swims, before he lets out a small growl and attempts to push himself back up, but against V1’s strength there’s little he could do. It could so easily work it’s fingers back into him, use them to fuck him into a stupor, and right then Gabriel wants nothing more. He can feel V1 trace it’s fingers over his abused clit and sensitive lips, like it knows exactly what Gabriel is thinking, but it seems unwilling to to give it to him. It will hold him there for as long as it needs, he realizes, and so Gabriel stills himself under it’s grip with a heavy huff of breath.

“Please...”

The strong hand on the back of his helm keeps Gabriel from turning and looking back at the machine holding him down, but he can hear the low whirring and soft clicks of metal as V1’s plating shifts out of place. Gabriel scratches against the floor in eager anticipation before he feels a hot, blunt pressure against his cunt, larger and more solid than it’s fingers had been, and the tip parts his lips slowly before V1 pushes it’s hips forward with little hesitancy. It watches as it’s cock sinks into Gabriel inch by torturous inch with an easy glide, until it’s pelvic plating is pressed firmly against Gabriel’s backside, and Gabriel squirms underneath it’s weight. Delightful.

Gabriel tenses up again, tight around V1’s cock, muttering whispered nonsense to himself as he struggles to keep some level of composure, but it matters not to V1. Gabriel’s arousal and the slick coating V1’s shaft make for easy movements as V1 holds him in place and rolls it’s hips in slow, deliberate strokes. One hand slips around to take over where Gabriel had left off in touching himself, deft finger circling against his swollen clit, and V1 can feel Gabriel twitch in it’s arms at the first touch, but he is still firmly held in place. To lose a battle against The Machine was one thing, but to be so completely overwhelmed, dominated in such a matter, it was… exhilarating.

Each time V1 draws it’s hips back Gabriel feels a harrowing sense of emptiness that nearly has him nearly begging V1 to just stay close, to simply rut against him and keep him wholly filled. He never gets the chance to speak before V1 thrusts back into him, and the only thing it hears from him is low, drawn out moans. It tilts it’s head towards Gabriel to indulge in every little noise it could wrench from his throat, but it simply wasn’t enough.

Tonight the angel would sing for it.

And so he does, as V1 shifts it’s weight and lets force drive it’s next thrust. A sharp, startled gasp is heard from Gabriel, the wind knocked out of him by the sting of metal striking the backs of his thighs and the curve of his ass harshly. The next draws a choked off shout from Gabriel, and the rest follow suit. The pain is exquisite as V1 drives it’s cock home again, faster now as if it were through testing the waters. Gabriel knows well the strength that V1 carries, and how easily it could do far more than simply hurt him in such a vulnerable state, and yet the pain of each rough thrust is melded beautifully with the irresistible pleasure as V1 continues to work it’s fingers over Gabriel’s clit. They have had their battle, and now it’s goal is no longer to cause him pain. It wants him to forget his suffering, and with each thrust rocking him into the floor, every sensation melts into one perfect feeling.

Pressed to the floor, the acrid smell of blood drenched around the room, and a sweet, agonizing pleasure building slowly within Gabriel left him scrambling to find something solid to hold onto and ground himself with. His cries grow louder with each powerful push of V1’s hips, echoing out into the cathedral halls. The name of a God no longer with them rings aloud as Gabriel is given pleasure, relief, freedom by another. By a man-made machine. His greatest enemy, his truest foil, his deepest passion. Slowly, the name of God dies on his lips, and is replaced with another he had never dared to utter before.

“V1...” Gabriel groans out, his own voice carrying a roughness he hadn’t expected. “V1!”

The name tastes like metal. Like blood. After one whisper of it, the name passed from his lips again and again, a breathless hymn broken only by a deep, guttural groan that tapered out into a strangled scream as V1 pressed itself upon him as deeply as it could. It’s hand finally moves from where it had been holding Gabriel’s head down, and instead goes to wrap around his throat, metal fingers lightly digging into h is skin as it pulls him back onto all fours. Where before V1 had seemed so precise, as if ruining one of God’s angels came easy to it… now it’s own movements began to falter, quicken in pace but become almost sloppy, frantic, pulling Gabriel back into each of it’s thrusts by his throat. It was almost as if V1 enjoyed the vibrations, the feeling of Gabriel crying out his pleasure for it. Let it hear if it so wished then. All shame had died alongside his arrogant pride. In it’s place was humility, and desire.

Gabriel rocks back into V1, ending up nearly seated against it as a loud, high pitched whining noise emitted from behind him, and V1’s grip tightens around his throat just to send a thrill of fear through Gabriel, and it’s fingers go still against his clit as it attempts to grind itself deeper into him. He feels something hot burst within him, flooding his core and seeping out from him around V1’s cock, and he lets out a shocked gasp and squirms around V1 at the strange sensation, but V1 is quick to hold him still against it once more. The whine gradually dims down into a low droning noise before petering out to silence once more, and there is a short lull in which Gabriel is held firmly against V1 as it’s systems reset. Gabriel’s heart races in his chest as V1 is stark still against his trembling form, and his breath is ragged with V1’s hand constricting him.

Then V1’s grip eases, hand falling away from Gabriel’s throat entirely, and with a notable effort in it’s movement, it pulls back away from him. Gabriel can feel something hot and wet slowly seep down one of his inner thighs, and it drips down onto the floor between them, and Gabriel glances to see a mess of pale white between his legs.

He isn’t given time to think much about it before V1’s hips slam back into him and steals his breath away, the wet mess between them making for the most indecent sound Gabriel has ever heard. His head lolls to the side as he pushes himself back against V1 to meet each punishing thrust forward. V1’s fingers slip on his clit as it’s feverish rubbing is slicked by cum and arousal, but still the pleasure builds higher and higher, with Gabriel’s chants of V1’s name growing with it. His knees tremble beneath him, strength failing him once more, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was held in V1’s strong arms, and he knew he would not fall so he simply let go, giving himself over to V1 completely.

When it all becomes too much to bear, and Gabriel wracked with a blinding white pleasure, all he can let out is a filthy moan as he squirms, hips jerking against V1’s hand. He’s pulled flush against V1’s front, with The Machine rutting it’s hips into him as Gabriel’s wings flap against the ground frantically, uselessly, back arching and body tensing as if electricity were coursing through his veins.

Then, finally, Gabriel breathes. The sense of calm relief and satisfaction that washes over him is… is nearly as overwhelming as the pleasure he had been given at V1’s hands. It comes with a heavy sense of fatigue that settles in his limbs first, beginning to weigh him down.

Thankfully V1 is surprisingly careful as it lowers Gabriel to the ground, leaving him to rest on his front as it slowly pulls out. He takes his time, breathing slowly, deeply, taking in the smell of blood and sex hanging all around them, and it draws another small, tired moan from him. For a few long moments, all he can do is exists. His whole body is aglow with a pleasant soreness, and soft tremors as he feels a gentle touch run up his side.

“Machine… V1...” Gabriel croaks out, the hoarseness in his voice almost grating, and he realizes just how loud he had actually been.

V1’s endless strength grips him tightly and he is helped to roll over onto his back, with his wings flickering in and out of existence before being splayed out flat under him, just as they had begun. Something about V1 seems far more… animated, alive really, and Gabriel reaches out to rest a hand against the side of V1’s face, though it doesn’t lean into the touch quite like he had done so earlier.

“Thank you.”

Gabriel gets no response of course, but that’s fine to him. V1 simply watches him as it is knelt back on it’s knees, a gentle steam rising from it’s heated plates as the last remnants of water are evaporated. Behind hit, it’s wings are held high and seem truly divine in that moment, with a halo of soft blue light from the cathedral casting down on it from above. Something tightens in Gabriel’s chest at such a view, a desire filling him that was new. Not lust, he knew lust now, and the desire to strike V1 down in battle had been killed, for the moment anyway. This was something else, something pure.

As the minutes pass, slowly the whirring of fans coming from within V1 seem to die down, and the steam that had been surrounding it disappears, then finally it moves,. Gabriel had stayed as he was, legs spread slightly to allow V1 to sit comfortably between them, and he can feel the slow ooze of cum dripping from his swollen lips. Something to be dealt with later, he supposes, but V1 seems to watch with fascination, or perhaps some sort of twisted pride.

It’s just as Gabriel is finally able to completely relax, and that all his eyes begin to drift shut to relish in his afterglow, that he feels metal palms on him once again. They slide up his thighs as if it were V1’s turn to show it’s appreciation for his form. It grabs hold of Gabriel’s waist to drag him closer, quickly bringing him back to his senses and jostling the haze from his mind as his hips are hiked up and legs are pulled around V1.

Before Gabriel can question V1 on what it was doing, he sees that it’s cock is still out and fully pressurized, and it leans forward to run the very tip through the mess of slick and cum between his legs. V1’s not done with him, Gabriel realizes as he spread his legs further, head falling back against the floor with a warbling moan as V1 presses the tip in past oversensitive lips before sliding home with one smooth push. For a moment, the idea of it never quite having it’s fill of him seems like true heaven.

Time seems to stand still around them as Gabriel is pushed and broken, shattered and rebuilt anew by V1’s hand again, and again. It’s iron grip that pulls Gabriel into every brutish thrust is only tempered by the strangest softness. As V1 digs into Gabriel’s flesh, nearly hard enough to break skin and draw blood once more, it leans over him, and Gabriel finds himself gazing into a dulled glowing eye as their heads knock together in something akin to affection. Countless others he had held as closely as this, to give his strength and usher lost souls into the light of The Father, but never had he himself been given such tenderness.

Never had he strayed so far from the light of The Father either, but the missing warmth of Heaven’s flame could be found radiating from the machine above him.

[daryfromthefuture]

fic author self rec

tagged by @bg-sparrow!! thank you :D

also this was like FOREVER ago and then i forgot about it so apologies for the delay hfdjsfgdhjfasj

share five favorites of your own work, then tag five fic authors to do the same - okay, let's go

Until Get Home

When the train plot goes horribly wrong, Marty McFly and Doc Brown are stranded in 1885. How will they manage to adapt to a time so foreign to their own? Will they be able to preserve the space-time-continuum? And, most importantly: How will their adventures in the past impact their relationship?

you know this HAD to be the number one. i cannot pour my life and soul into a 100K word fanfic and not have it be my number one LMAO. but seriously, this fanfic means a lot to me. it helped me get through my first months in a foreign country, connected me with awesome friends and had me gain a massive appreciation for bttf part 3 (i love that part even more than i already have and watching it reminds me of this fic). i am also proud that this story carries some valuable messages and developes doc and marty even more. it was wonderful writing this, and it's also my first major story i finished. this is a love letter to bttf and bttf 3 in particular in form of a...well, book.

2. Most People Were Silent

Marty McFly had been stranded in the 1940s for a year, living with the younger version of his best friend, Emmett Brown. When Doc unexpectedly gets invited to join a secret scientific project, Marty and Emmett move to a small town in New Mexico. After meeting various new people and making his own acquaintaces while Doc works, Marty learns how vital it is to stay quiet - for the sake of everyone's safety. But not everyone has the same view...

is it wrong to put a not-yet-finished work on this list? maybe, but i, quite frankly, do not care because i adore this story. it had me come up with silly little ocs and throws me into a setting that interests me (i am a major history nerd and a way to connect it with my favorite character? YES PLEASE). and just wait until you see what happens next - you will definitely get why this is on second place >:)

on a side note, this universe is getting an expansion and becoming a trilogy, which i have titled "the trinity trilogy". writing this will kill me but i am so ready

3. In The Shadow Of The Mushroom Cloud

this fic doesnt have a summary, but it's my part of the "Stuck Through Time(lines)" - collab project we did in the discord server! once again a manhattan project doc fic with a different basic concept than my main one. this one was SO fun to write. i poured out those 12k words in like five days. i want that kind of motivation back, please. also i get to do what bob gale only dreams of and blow up the delorean

please also read the other contributions to this challenge!! all of the authors are so talented and i love their work :D

4. Winter of '84

Doc takes Marty to the doctor when Marty comes down with the flu.

i love me a good bttf prequel fic, and sickfic is one of my favorite tropes, so i was super shocked when i found out that the bttf fandom had like. zero of those. before winter of '84, there was november, but that's a post-trilogy fic, so it doesn't count lol. i'm proud of this one because it's just a cute piece of slice of life fluff, and i think it captures doc and marty's friendship super well.

5. Double Visions

Marty and Doc return from 1931, but Doc doesn't know half of the story.

a bttf: the game fic holy shit

i had wanted to write something of this kind ever since i first played the game in february 2021. as you can see, it only took me like, two years, but i did it! and i think it's great in the way that it covers everything i had in mind for this scene while not stretching itself. i loved writing the dialogue and emotional stuff for this story and like rereading it occasionally :)

i would like to tag...everyone who hasn't been tagged before. i have lost track.

thanks for the ask bg!!

[limen-lime]

what is iris going to do for jack?

"Shoes off at the door," Iris called over her shoulder. Her voice echoed through the empty first floor as she stepped up from the entryway into the expansive main living area, the kitchen just beyond.

From beneath the kitchen sink, she removed her first-aid kit, which she always kept handy. Lavender and Hazel were accident-prone children, and Iris spent many summer days kissing skinned knees and stroking hair as she poured foaming iodine onto bleeding hands. The two boys who had been unceremoniously dumped into her front yard looked like they might need a little more than she could give. But she would do her best.

Tristan Emrys hopped onto the kitchen counter and removed his broken sunglasses with a sigh. "These were my favorite."

Jack Halley chose the more reasonable approach of collecting a chair from the dining room table before he sat down nearby. He was silent. His eyes were unfocused as he stared down at the tile floor of the Espinosa's new kitchen.

Iris was worried he might have a concussion and put a gentle hand beneath his chin to lift his head. She took a pen-light from the kit and flashed it in each eye just to be safe. When she was satisfied that he didn’t seem to have any apparent brain damage, she said, “I think you’ll live."

"He must have a hard head," Hazel grumbled and leaned her hip against the counter top, arms crossed over her chest.

"Hazel, will you find yourself in my makeup bag and bring it here?" Iris asked.

Tristan screwed up his dirt-smudged face in confusion.

Hazel huffed in annoyance, but she turned and stalked off in the direction of the boxes piled high next to the door anyway. Iris guessed what the boys could not know, that Hazel had really been frightened to see them crash like they did. To see Jack's eyes so wild with fright. Iris might have been an empath of sorts, but her daughter was the one who felt things like the ocean does, overflowing and often violent. She hid her fears behind a sea wall of minor aggressions, but Iris knew how fragile those breakers could be.

While lost in thoughts of sea salt and floods, Iris lifted Jack's hands to inspect them. "Some of these cuts might need stitches, but I should know better once I clean them up."

Jack's eyes kept trailing back to the kitchen window, which looked out on the forest beside the house. "I swear I saw something out there."

Iris nodded her head. "I know, but you seem to me like a very tired young man in need of some rest before we discuss what it is you saw. Hmm?"

Jack turned his gaze back to her. "You don't believe me either."

Anyone else who looked in Jack Halley's eyes would see the nameless color of them. Hints of green, gold, and gray. They would see half a dozen fitful nights of very little sleep. They might even catch a glimmer of the anger that had lived, burning inside of him long before loss brought his life to a bloody stand-still.

When Iris Espinosa gazed into them, it was like what happened when other witches peered into a bowl of dark liquid or an antique mirror poured from silver. She saw through the eyes into something deeper.

To Iris, eyes really were the window to the soul.

She saw Jack’s hopes in shades of summer green. Hope was usually a soft, glowing thing, a heart of white and a halo of whatever color the soul associated with the related emotions. They bobbed like fire flies through memories and future dreams. Jack was still boyish and rough-hewn - a series of stick and mud forts, late-night campfire stories, and the splash of cold water on bare shins. He hoped for simple, concrete things.

Iris’ heart instantly ached for him.

His fears stood high above in flickers of fiery gold. Burnished in fire so hot that Iris nearly lost hold of his chin. They gleamed a hammered-out sheen, armored dragon scales, a monumental serpent. It towered in the mind’s eye, all phantasm and claws. Jack tried to pull away as he felt the fear rise within him.

But that tumultuous gray sky swallowed the beast. Like clouds hiding away the sun behind their hands, they swept out over a wind-tossed sea, and the boy was lost among the gray. This was not hope or fear at all. It was something Iris knew well. Need, want, desperate, aching, empty. This boy was missing something, and he likely had been for a while. He didn’t even know what it was anymore, that thing to fill the void.

Iris drew back.

Jack stared. “What did you do to me?”

“I want you to tell me,” Iris said softly, “everything you remember about that night.”

Jack opened his mouth - whether to protest or explain, she was not certain - but she stopped him.

“Not now. You’ve had a long morning, and what we need to discuss is going to take a lot more than you’ve got to give right now. Do you understand?”

Jack almost shook his head before he realized that he did understand. “Ma’am,” he said politely - Martha raised him to always be polite if possible and especially to people who could unabashedly hold your gaze for as long as Iris could, “do you need some help moving in?”

Iris turned her gaze to her daughter next, who had just returned with herself, a bottle of witch hazel water (the plant she was named for). “Yes, I’d appreciate that. Wouldn’t you, honeybee?”

Hazel stared for a few moments longer than she thought she should. Their magic was very different, but she could still see when Iris had been working. Something like dreams hovered around her, a cloud of miracles. Magic bending over and around itself to grant Iris Espinosa what she wished.

“Sure,” Hazel said finally, “we’d love some help.”

Previous and Next

[sinceileftyoublog]

Willi Carlisle Live Preview: 2/9, Schubas, Chicago

BY JORDAN MAINZER

The critters in Willi Carlisle's Critterland (Signature Sounds) aren't just varmints like the one that graces the album's absurd cover, nor the two-headed lamb "too strange to survive." They're anybody--human or otherwise--considered an outcast by the unrealistic standards set forth by society. On his Darrell Scott-produced third album, Carlisle digs into his own personal history and local mythology to paint a picture of an American south that pits the freaks against each other, and where those who dare to be different nonetheless find kinship in one another. With a pared-down instrumental arsenal (most songs contain just acoustic guitar, banjo, steel guitar, and/or harmonica), Carlisle's ramshackle delivery and utmost longing stand tall and beckon you to sing along.

On Critterland, Carlisle gives you anthems right from the start. The album's title track, based on an attempt at living in an intentional community in Arkansas, celebrates those "makin' wagers on the critters that we see crossing the road;" led by propulsive banjo, the song soars in the chorus with celebratory harmonica and expansive steel guitar. Purportedly, Carlisle wanted to let loose on the record, inspired by the ragged rambunctiousness of his live show, and you can see "Critterland" becoming a set highlight for the rest of his career. Critterland is far from a fists-in-the-air record, though. Many songs tackle substance abuse, addiction, and suicide with a mix of earnestness, dark humor, and self-awareness. On the gorgeously finger-picked "The Arrangements", the narrator can't take too much joy in the fact that his horrible father has met his maker, as he's beginning to see himself in his dad, ultimately leading himself to think, "It's still sad when bad men die." "Higher Lonesome", the album's only completely true story, sees a drug-addled Carlisle at first "dreamin' of a country I saw at the rodeo," mistaken in his quest for non-existent perfection. As the song progresses, he toys with his own mortality: "See, I don't want to hit rock bottom, just to see how deep it goes / Shine a light on six feet under so I ain't afraid to go." Eventually, he joins AL-Anon and realizes the pain he's inflicted on himself and others, and his penchant for soul-crushing wordplay shines brightest: "With every coin the joiners get, they're farther from the pain of it / All the hurting that we did, it's a shame no coin'll pay for it."

Carlisle certainly knows how to start a song and hook you. He'll pay tribute to a friend who committed suicide and whose body was never found because his note used words too complex for the cops to understand. His immediate vocal harmonies with Jude Brothers on "I Want No Children" catalyze a fiddle-and-banjo instant folk classic. And as soon as 7-minute spoken word closer "The Money Grows on Trees" begins, you know you're in for Carlisle at his troubadour best, showcasing the lyrical dexterity of your favorite rapper. It's "When the Pills Wear Off", though, that devastates all the way through. "Father forgive me for what I have done / Drove 200 miles for six inches of love," he sings, placing you in a world of neon-lit bars and dingy motels. But the song's big reveal, from both an emotional, plot, and instrumental standpoint breaks you. "It's selfish to fall for yourself in someone," Carlisle opines, the other side of the coin of the mourning narrator of "The Arrangements", before continuing, "I know that I want him and always will / I don't think he could have known that it was fentanyl." At the moment he names the deadly drug, the song's plaintive piano and cinematic strings squeak and warble to a clumsy stop, as if to emulate a life cut short. When the "The Money Grows on Trees" ends--it's a song based on David Mac's When Money Grew on Trees, firsthand accounts of a weed moonshiner and the corrupt sheriff that allowed him to do it--it's clear that Carlisle's use of regional history is far from mere aesthetic cosplay like it is for so many of his contemporaries. He can change endings all he wants, in the stories of his lives and those of others, through his songs, but it's the act of analyzing contemporary ills through bonafide folklore that emphasizes the absurdity of the here and now.

Carlisle headlines Schubas tonight. Nashville folk duo Golden Shoals opens. Doors at 7:30 PM, show at 8. The show is sold out.

[secretlessonnews]

where does psychic energy come from and psychic meaning

Where does psychic energy come from and psychic meaning Welcome aboard, future psychonauts! Today is an enlightening voyage into the mind-bending psychic realm! Together we'll discover an expansive world of psychic abilities - so make sure your curiosity and sense of humor are handy as this ride promises to be thrilling! As we explore the depths of psychic world, you'll come to realize it's much broader than just magically delicious cereals. There's more to psychic meaning than you may initially realize; not just crystal balls and fortune tellers - rather it involves tapping into mind power, soul depth and opening doors to realms unseen; acknowledging and accepting its magic is part of life itself! - Clairvoyance**. Don't just think of clairvoyance as seeing into the future; imagine having access to an exclusive cinema where past, present, and future play out simultaneously - truly, clairvoyance is its own magic show! - *Clairsentience**. Imagine experiencing more layers of emotion than an onion has without breaking into tears (unless that's your style! )! - **Clairaudience**. Imagine hearing your cat finally admit who's boss -- of course it would be you! - **Claircognizance**. Knowing something just because isn't limited to children - sometimes adults simply know! - Clairalience and Clairgustance**. Achieved through Clairalience or Clairgustance. Smelling Aunt May's blueberry pie from miles away could be seen as a psychic ability! - Empathy. Empathic women stand out! Empathy allows us to understand another's emotions as if they were our own; not only that, but you actually feel them too! - **Mediumship**. Mediumship is like being the Universe's phone operator, connecting with those on the other side who have passed over. - Telepathy provides texting without using a phone - isn't that convenient? - **Telekinesis**. Why bother using remote controls when your mind can do all the hard work instead? - **Precognition and Retrocognition**. Keeping track of tomorrow's weather or what transpired back during dinosaur times could prove useful! Imagine being able to read the future or understand history beyond books - that's precognition and retrocognition in action! That's partially where does psychic energy come from... From psychometry (touching objects to read their stories) and remote viewing (observing distant places telepathically) to psychic healing (healing with your mind), psychic abilities span an impressively wide spectrum. **Psychic surgery**, an energy version of conventional surgery, acts like being an intuitive health provider. Levitation also makes an appearance here - think flying without wings that doesn't even need a ticket! What about animal telepathy? Well, Dr. Dolittle should step aside! At our exploration site, we also encounter intuition, dowsing and pyro-and-cryokinesis. Intuition acts like your personal GPS system that never loses signal; Dowsing is like telling someone where your keys are; while Pyro and Cryokinesis act like inborn thermostat controllers for hot or cold temperatures - perfect! "Heal Your Miracle Now" takes an engaging, relatable, and entertaining journey through this complex psychic terrain to explore psychic phenomena. More than just a book - this experience becomes your personal guidebook! Keep an eye out for signs of empath women or embrace clairvoyant magic; and don't forget, every mind is an unexplored frontier! In Sol's words: "Claim your psychic hats and let's ride the cosmic waves together!"   ☟ ☟ ☟ Read the full article

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Hello! Could you tell me what you see about my SM/future spouse? Where they are from? What line of work they are in? What physical and personality traits? Thanks! 🐛🐣

Sure! Let’s see what spirit wants you to know. Interestingly every question you asked actually has nothing to do with who they are. All are very 3D based. It’s curious people want to know what their soul mate does for work and not if they love what they do, or want to know what they look like, not what they love most about themselves.

For some reason your ask is prompting this message but this is what spirit means by being human. None of these questions speak to your soulmates essence or what lights them up. And you aren’t the only one to ask this so I’m not trying to like sold you. I just think it highlights vast areas for expansive growth in how people engage with and think about the world and other people. This type of ask indicates there is still a lot of work to do around deprogramming and shedding societal expectations. How you see the world is limited by your own perception and this ask shows me that.

Which immediately gives me the image of an eye doctor, ironically I think your soul mate may be working in a field where they help people literally see clearer (funny because it’s metaphoric). Maybe you also do this but in other ways like with this ask. But yeah, I see them in the eye exam room like tinkering with the machine to help someone get the closest to perfect vision they can. They like this work, I feel like they walk lighter, they like knowing that they are helping people see the world and feel a lot of purpose isn’t their job. They may have a small family practice, they seem to be on a small team that feels like a family and they feel very settled and content with what they do,

Message from soulmate:

I see you! Haha. (They have a good sense of humor very much punchline). But yeah I do help people with vision but I don’t really have visions. I’m pretty straight and narrow, not really spiritual, but I do figure the right person will come along when it’s time. People keep wondering where the spouse is because I’m very settled. I’m not sure where they are, but I just keep focusing on me, I love what I do and who I work with, I go to the gym, which is very fulfilling—I was very scrawny in high school— and I just try to enjoy nature. I have a dog—Australian shepherd, and I spend a lot of time with my niece, it’s my sisters daughter. She’s the apple of my eye, I can’t wait to have kids of my own one day! (They feel very peaceful and grounded and content) I have a nice house that’s just missing you. Maybe one day. Hope we find each other soon. Xoxo —John, Jimmie, James, (some basic J name) Jacob, Jesse? Something

This song came up, probably because of the name Jesse lol, but it may have a message.

I’m not gonna lie, half way through this reading I was distracted by a thought, so I feel like maybe you are distracted as well, that focusing on your soulmate is a distraction, I wrote a poem about romanticizing interactions and I wonder if that may be something you do or should look at? Do you remember things as more mythic or memorable than it truly was. To keep the story interesting and alive?

Druid Craft Tarot

Eight of cups, reversed— “you might have considered leaving a situation or relationship, but the time to leave has not yet come, fear of intimacy or commitment, resisting spending time alone, emotional exhaustion”

Hmm I wonder if that whole me getting distracted thing was like a redirect to your energy because this feels like a message for you and not about your soulmate. They seem really set, are you the one who knows you need to take action and make a change but haven’t? Do you struggle to spend time alone? 8 usually deals with business and abundance and cups deal with emotion so reversed I get the sense it feels like your abundance has been poured out and it’s empty and maybe that’s why you fear making a change, you’re scared to have even less than you do now, but that mindset is holding you back and trapping you in self fulfilling prophecies.

Queen of Swords, upright— “a need to be objective, an intellectual endeavor, success in communications, exams, writing, politics or debates”

Yeah this need to be objective goes back to you romanticizing things. The Queen of Swords is like very much a boss bitch. Swords are air and air represents the mind, this queen has her logic and mental reasoning on point and she uses her cunning and wit to create opportunities for success. Interesting I found myself writing a poem and this comes out, do you write? I think this is saying if you can make the hard decision, you will come out of as Queen of Swords, someone with new wisdom and insight and their head screwed on right.

Hope this helps! Let me know if it resonates.

[cosmicangel888]

Karma & Soul Growth ~ Truth, Truth = Inner knowing & Connection

The only way through the storm is to be radically honest, and accepting of why, where, how, and in what beliefs did you hold about yourself and others to put you exactly where you are -

What version of you is in need of acceptance, love, compassion and knowing the only way through to alchemize and change - is to own it, and work with loving compromise to make it right and make it new - for all are involved and affected by whatever deceit, selfish gain, or superficial importance one thought was higher than those feelings and those around you - to claim it as a true part of your story -

The profundity of your own personal, intimate, threaded oneness with spirit is your reading and sensing all creation - all moments, all expressions, and all interpreting - this is mastery - levelling up!

Just as the long-standing 'stars' or famous ones, will do far better as claiming themselves to be purely human, making errors of ego, and knowing that all is the version of life where we learn, grow into self love, self knowing, self value and what all are the mirrors of - our falsities and our ways in which we chase to obtain, to get, to think we know better and thus the tower, spirit, your own soul will show you that there is always a more elegant plan, there is the growth and expansion of your life, soul, spirit, love and what is truly important is to EVOLVE through it all -

ALL IS PURPOSEFUL - this is the blessing ~ Sovereignty is YOU & GOD, Source, Spirit hand-in-hand

You manifest the profound challenge before you because you have what it takes to persue a new version of you and take your powerful lessons of self love with you -

To trust in you moreover all - trust the path, trust everything before you is you creating you - pushing and pulling you to a higher version of you - play and have fun and release all that smothers, suffocates, depresses your creative journey or tells you what you are and what you are not - and so on - let it go and trust in the creative journey - if you are not creating you are not growing- evolution is everything!

None have any right to block, take, keep you held back or harvest your light, your energy and your work to allow them an easy ride through life - Spirit is always in charge and when enough is enough, and all spiritual guidance has not been heeded - Spirit will step in - none have the right to override anyones free will in any way;

God, Source, Creation is a song of vibration - what is first, song, vibration, intention of loving expression - this is God, in all ways in all life - all is

God experiencing itself and we are each aspects of the whole; all affects the all - who are you- time to trust and play and move in your own HIGHEST TRUTH - be veiled for none

physical, mental, emotional, spiritual - All are sovereign and anyone that claims doing spell work, manipulation, deceiving, taking, blocking on any level, harming in the mental and astral realms, sending or conjuring demons, entities, and using or abusing energy, information, spirit, and any other tactic is 'ok' then discern greatly your involvement; for all must face, and walk through what they create to alchemize and own the lessons of it

energy is a gift, skills, talents, honouring of such is matching spirit, the benevolent beings of human evolution; our spirit guides, our soul, our teams of healing and all realms we belong to are with us on this journey and all are given time, patience, unconditional love, help, support, and all that we ask, seek, pray -

We are always offered Gods, Source, Spirits help - but we must surrender the ego, the themes of letting go, or the lineage wounding and imprints to release and earn the lessons of - if one continues to go against the stream of self loving healing, self love, value, or heeding spirit, then the protection and guidance is taken or lifted - for spirit can only do so much, and thus leaving the vessel, open to whatever entities and beings that is attracting likes to likes

All will have their own way to know thyself; spirit is our mirror just as each within our life - all show you how to forgive, how to love deeply in you and how to look at where your values and morals are all at and how to define and draw, and design and begin anew;

You are not here to heal, fix or make life for all anew = that is not the story line - the story line is who are you?

What may you express as you, and how may you experience yourself anew - in an alliance with spirit © You are here to love you, seek you, know you some more, expand upon you, go within again and create anew, and be new, and experience anew and stand for you, have your own back, love you some more - expect nothing, be grateful for everything

When you rely on another - you will be inevitably be disappointed for they are not you - and how you are able to create directly with God - it was never meant for us to rely on anyone outside of us and spirit - those that focus on the lower mind, mental manipulation, spell work which was a gift to help with healing; not to binde, harm, block, be the god on any others path; is simply playing with so much danger and unnecessary pain, karma, that is a purpose to learn as we enter the 5D and dealing with all energies and beings; but to learn of self loving guidance and knowing you moreover anyone;  ©

Heal thy wounds- binding, this is lack, control, selfish taking that is not of a spiritual sovereign experience but minded sick imbalance and how darker energies and entities work; to sacrifice and take and sign your soul that is meant to be free in any way -

You make your own contract and everything has its honour and lesson so never judge - however know, discern, be talented within thyself to trust the red flags, trust what spirit is guiding you to be and explore, and trust in God that is your holy experience with God, with Creation - it is magical and mystical and know this - there is a miracle within all moments - this is God - the mind, the ego, the beliefs of the past will not drive or steer you - discern and question anyone that directs you otherwise =

A spiritual tarot reader, that claimed themselves as a benevolent light worker said to someone; 'maybe they misread Spirit or was misguided in their information from spirit' ~ first of all - any guide, or someone that you are to entrust in energy, guidance, and information will never or should never make you doubt, or question, your experiential messages of spirit - you read spirit as you read spirit and this is practice and inner knowing - know and trust how you feel. someone that makes you distrust spirit and your unique messages - discern who, how, you give power to

All spiritual leaders, teachers, will be tested on so many loving levels; to allow all to expand, to trust more deeply in the unseen, and to know thyself deeply to activate the DNA, the fields and chakras that hold higher vibrational intelligence and wisdoms - if we surrender to lower vibrational ways due to comfort then there is a fear of change, fear of expansion and then another way to go within and explore, express, and heal, and experience - all is always perfect - there is nothing to fix, only to attune to what is going on within - this is a creational reality and all has a return effect - this is how we learn -

This is a subtle manner in which all leaders will allow all aspects to be purposeful to allow all to go within and know their messages with spirit - and none, none, none can ever ever EVER tell you what YOUR messages or anothers message from spirit is; or to tell another 'they misread spirits message' ~ none have nor should ever want to claim justice over what spirit means for anyone

Spiritual initiation is your threading with your higher self, soul, ancestors, God, Spirit teams, masters, angelics that are with you to nurture your OWN unique spin on spiritual testing of your own inner metal -

A teacher, a healer will ask in all sessions, downloads; what and how shall I offer myself - I surrender to God, how may I serve; and thus the ego is out of the way; and you offer purity of intent and not ego 'how can I look good or make another question their connection with spirit so I can look right' ~~~ all is purposeful but there are subtitles in discerning the help you want, get, receive and what is far greater to get from within - surrender no power to anyone that makes you question and doubt your connection & your own dialogue, your own interpretation, and connection IS EVERYTHiNG

the inner essence, the breath, the knowing, the sensing of all matter form; and un=matter form; and thus none have any right nor knowledge or right; this was a clear example of trespassing the energy codes of benevolent play with energy and guidance - spirit will test you - will you allow people to get there on their own and will you support, encourage, empower, and uplift, to keep all within their own realm of beingness with God, source, spirit, or will you deconstruct their own inner knowing for the energetic pull to make yourself feel right; or to jeopardize the trust one has with life, or trusting oneself

Why I wrote in my books; reflection, integration, processing, is so very KEY to your work with spirit & the making of mastery and the loving gift you are to creation - how true self empowerment is earned - you reflect and one download with spirit and digest, integrate the lesson, the codes, process it all and see it from whatever is most exciting, most needed; if you need nourishment, explore it from this perspective, if you need clarity, explore it from this perspective, and then practice it, new beliefs and new behaviours, and so on - the new inner beliefs and how knowing thyself is so very key and the longest standing sentence in all of sacred texts; 'know thyself'

None can tell you what your path, your downloads, or your definition, your descriptions, your values of the messages of spirit are for you - for YOU ARE the only one experiencing you as you - none have that right - and all spiritual teachers, healers, and guides will be tested with their teams to see, teach, offer, and allow for bending of what you think you know, what you think you are able to say is your truth and impress on any other to doubt their connection with spirit

The NEW KnOWing of God, Source

Release any expectation of anyone being anything for you - that is your own inner job - you are your path - period - and you are the only one to open any gate and portal and you will be only proving this to you - following the guidance within, trusting within, honouring within, knowing you are all you need; all you ever want, and all you ever will envision in your most beautiful dream

The dream God has, is unique to you each, and be thus within - match IT; the devil, the ego, the wounds, the entities playing these catalysts to your self love, self knowing, self direction, self value, and self direction - it is all you playing you; in wounding; devil, or giving your power away - the devil, for the devil and all entities playing in such for you - to then learn, love, forgive, and then reclaim your power -

honour energy with play, sacredness - all will reflect to you - did you honour life, energy, the gifts of all moments and life? or not? It is all necessary - all needed - all is ONE

the God -what we were taught; was a little misguided - for God is ALL - every aspect of energy GOD IS; from rocks, to flowers, to devils, or the wounded experiences of God- it is all God - when we behave in our wounding - we create a mess that we ultimately have to heal and make anew; truth is this way - for you are now knowing you and what is right for you - truth is the healing of all darkness and when you love yourself you trust yourself - your path is lit

The new God, aspects of the ALL the harmonious song - you

In many of discussions with humanity, clients, I am so enpassioned with teaching, sharing, observing, and showing, that I often step in during a interpretation of dreams and other spiritual experiences = not to bring a new truth, but simply to offer potentials and possibilities of expansion - and spirit will share with me; as I telepathically ask; 'what shall I share spirit?'

Every person without doubt is here to heal their own inner DF/DM energies, lineage wounding, akashic imprints, veils, and beliefs and then our social constructs to transcend it all - transmute by being fully you and surrender to no other outside of you - spirit is

Spirit will softly offer; 'allow them to get there on their own' - this is THE MOST EXCITING PART OF EVOLUTION; the 'Agghhh Haaa' moments when one awakens to ones own mastery - not to intraject and question ones reflection of guidance and offering of spirit - so be discerning - are you being supported and empowered in your work with spirit or are you being deconstructed in your putting the pieces together -

None know you better than you - the experiences I have dealt with were those telling me what my experience was, or deflecting, projecting, spell casting to confuse what my truth was, is, so that they own narrative would be true - the mind will not ever be the spirit - spirit leads the mind in the new 5D potential - it is a harmony and the mind, when not in balance with as spirit will always fail - for spirit is the maker of all that is mind;

You know you better and higher than anyone - trust no other word above what spirit shows you - then dissect it within you - what, how, in what way, when, and reflect, observed, practice, - that is what your teams will see;

Your spiritual path will take many twists and turns, and it is all an inner job that none have any right over, entitled to say over and of you, nor to take with a harvesting heart to be lighter than you to take the energy, attention, and whatever else one feels lacking in - if you heal thy wounds - you never seek anything outside of you and no crimes, no violence, no wrongs against another is ever done - if you do not have your own spiritual and inner child back - none will and this is the lesson - stand for you and what is your happiness and truth with spirit - our unique gifts and talents with spirit is our expansion and evolution - this is how our diversity will serve as our Oneness

And so be it

are you practicing self love, are you practicing your own path and your own will and your own inner knowing - this is soul knowing, the raising of consciousness on our planet - trust you above all and as you heal your lack, limiting beliefs and any other debt to darkness that karma plays for you - know it is your best friend and face it all with excitement -

you CAN DO ANYTHING and spirit will match it miraculously - listen to none that tell you you cannot nor deconstruct your knowing with the most loving unconditional spirit - you know you! period!

that is self knowing and that my friends is confidence and none will sway your path of what truth is for you -

Spiritual teachers and benevolence with evolution - human - will always empower your connection - not doubt it - discern and all leaders and teachers will be tested to assure of surrender of ego and deeply trusting Spirit to you - in the guidance of you is God

This is how you build inner strength, inner knowing, inner design, inner colouring and none's words, or thwarting, or swaying of your life path, or words, or ways will ever be stronger than your own

This is the inner will, the DM energy being healed - trust thyself and what you feel, know, see, sense - the DF is to entrust in the intuitive knowing you have with all life - and why women give birth - for the intuitive gifts and skills are bar none ~ all must work in harmony and why all is a lesson to get you there -

Spirit is a union and unique experience within each and why going within is how you will know you and what energies mean, feel like, sounds like, and what all stories are -

Spirit is you are all is God, Source, Beyond the beyond ~

All is knowing all serves you - so stand and account for what is truth within - how may I go forth Spirit - how may I ease what is going on within - and if love is not your answer - then seek again -  ©

Forgiveness, truth, love, compassion - you should never have to prove anything to anyone - prove noting to none - simply be love and self truth - be love

Truth = loving forgiveness and compassion to see, know, live as God sees knows of you - for all is GOD

And so it is

Blessings and light,

Joanna

Human evolution, re-writing all aspects of our co-creative experiences through love, light, harmony of all that is sacred, always been sacred;

World Ascension Healing Classes, Intuitive Sessions, Healing Sessions, Ascension Books, Healing Systems, 5D human-socio-altruistic re-write ~

DONATIONS - see our PayPal link here; paypal.me/JoannaLRoss PATREON new community link ~ for monthly subscribers;

https://patreon.com/JoannaGalacticTut... *

JoannaCosmicAngel@yahoo.com For our Tumblr Blog and weekly Ascension Posts https://at.tumblr.com/cosmicangel888/...

#ascension

#humanhealing

#healinghumanity

#selflove

#Gaia

#selfempowerment

#trustinginyou

#sefltrust

#God

#Source

#firstcontact

#sovereignty

[againstacecilia]

I've had a tough couple days and wanted comfort from a comfort character so here's soft!Din. Not super edited, just some fluff, some angst, a touch of misunderstanding (maybe?), reader is mentioned to have long enough hair to clasp back but fairly gender-neutral other than that. Bit of language? Idk lemme know what you think. 💖

Word count: 1560

Rating: E (I think? Lil bit of sexy mention but nothing past ~kissing~. The rest of my blog is 18+ NO EXCEPTIONS.)

What a fucking day.

You and Din had been chasing this bounty around the Outer Rim for a week now, and it had been a stroke of pure luck that you'd literally run into her outside Brogar's Safe House on Lok. She may have been evasive from a distance, but with the element of surprise on your side you got her pinned and bound fairly easily and into the freezing chamber on the Razor Crest before she could cause more problems.

Finally.

Din had gone up to the cockpit to get the Crest ready to go and you stepped into the 'fresher for a moment to yourself. Staring into the small mirror above the sink, you take a moment to just breathe in the silence and let the adrenaline from the afternoon fade from your body. You look at yourself, really LOOK at yourself, for the first time in months. The stress of bounty hunting was something you enjoyed at first. Always moving, always seeing new things and meeting new people, it gave you a new appreciation for the galaxy. For life, if you were honest with yourself. Then you met Din through Karga on Nevaaro and he and his kid were instantly a part of the story you were writing for yourself. Wrapped around the little womp rat's tiny finger, you knew sending him off to be with the Jedi was the right thing to do but it hurt like a bitch. Had hurt Din even more.

The last few bounties had been harder than ever to find and you were sure Din asked for more difficult targets to keep his mind off Grogu. It had worked for both of you for a while but there was always this moment, right after catching a quarry, where the silence in the Crest was suffocating. Studying yourself, you start to notice the lines. The weight of this mad dash to quarry after quarry was burning you out and the signs weren't just on your face.

Taking a steadying breath, you clean the dirt off your hands and face. You let your hair fall from it's clasp and change into comfier clothes for the trip. Satisfied with what you see when you glance back in the mirror, you open the door to find Din with his hand raised like he was about to knock.

"Holy shit," you jump a bit at the sight of him so close. "I don't know how you're so damn quiet with all that beskar. How long have you been out here?"

He's quiet for a second, black visor staring into your soul. You'd never seen him without it, although you'd been around him with it off. Always in the dark. Even still, you felt like you knew exactly where his eyes would be as you looked up and into the dark expanse. "Not long," he mumbles, the modulator barely picking up on it.

"What's wrong?" Your face scrunches with worry. He's always quiet, but the way his shoulders are hunched, his hands hanging limp at his sides...

"Are you happy here?"

The question throws you for a loop. "Of course I am, why wouldn't I be?"

"I see how tired you get after capturing a quarry," he says, hands finding your waist, "I know this lifestyle isn't for everyone, isn't what most people dream about growing up..." His voice trails off and he pulls you closer to his body as you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his torso.

"I didn't have dreams growing up, Din," you say into his chest plate. "I just wanted to survive. And I did. And then I found you. Of course I'm happy.”

He pulls away and gently grabs your chin between his thumb and crooked index finger, angling your face back up toward him. "You don't have to keep things from me."

Does that helmet has some sort of emotional x-ray vision? you think to yourself as you again try to make eye contact through glass and beskar. After a deep breath, you finally respond, "I am happy, I promise. I'm just... Tired. I miss him..." Your throat threatens to close up as tears spring to your eyes and you lean back into Din's chest.

He doesn't have to ask who you mean, he just pulls you in tight and holds you there in the quiet hum of the ship as it flies through hyperspace. After a moment, he shifts out of your embrace and tucks a loose bit of hair behind your ear. "I know what you need," he rumbles, reaching for the light switch.

The room is plunged into darkness, the red glow of buttons and panels casting a warm glow over the silhouettes of cargo and storage. You hear the clicks of Din removing his armor and smile at how familiar you are with the sound now. First, the armor on his chest is undone and he lifts it over his head, followed by the arm braces and then the pieces on his legs. When you hear the final piece fall to the floor, your breath hitches as you hear the hiss of him taking his helmet off. You immediately squeeze your eyes shut, aware of the loophole that Din uses to remove his helmet around you without breaking his Creed. A soft chuckle, unfiltered and beautiful, comes from his lips at your quick inhale, as if he knows your sounds as well as you know his.

"You've never asked to see me with my helmet off, after all this time," he says, stepping close to you again. "Worried about what you'll see?"

"I know what I'll see," you respond. You've dreamt about what he looks like, an image starting to form after countless nights in the dark with your fingertips memorizing every plane and curve of his face and body.

"Oh? And what do you think you'll see?"

There's no hesitation as you whisper, "Kind eyes, brown and depthless... And a smile that outshines the entire galaxy." You notice he's holding his breath, hanging on every word out of your mouth. You push on. "You've got a dimple on your right cheek that gets deeper the bigger you smile, and there are wrinkles around your eyes that betray your stoic, Mandalorian toughness and show just how much you laugh and make faces under that helmet of yours...

"You're beautiful, Din."

More silence fills the hold as you feel his gaze on you in the dark. You reach up to his face and trace over it with feather-light touches. As you brush across his cheek you feel something warm and wet hit your finger. Bringing your other hand up, you wipe away the tears falling silently from his eyes. Then gently, so gently it makes your heart ache, he leans down and kisses you.

Plush lips press softly to yours, his body warm and solid as he pulls you closer and weaves a hand into your hair. Your tongue brushes against his lips in a silent question and he opens them, sweeping his tongue over yours and moaning softly. The sound sparks deep in your core. Your heart begins to race. You reach down to start lifting your shirt when Din stops and grasps your hands.

"Wait."

"What?" You ask, hands stilling in his grip.

"I just..." Din takes a heavy breath, "You've become very important to me. More important than I thought another living being could be after the kid. But if you ever needed to leave, to live a better life than I could give you..."

Silver lines your eyes as you try and decode what he's saying. "Din, do you want me to leave?"

"No, that's not it at all," he fumbles over his words. He's never been much of a talker, especially about his emotions, but he's trying so hard. "I don't want you to miss out on anything because of me." He rests his forehead against yours, a sigh heavy on his lips.

"Would you hate me if I said I think I need a break? That we BOTH need a break? Running from bounty to bounty, never taking a moment to just breathe. We deserve time to relax," you say, leaning into his touch. "We deserve time for US."

"How about this: after we drop the quarries off with Karga, we take a break? Find a city with some fancy hotel and stay there for a bit?" You hear a smile in his voice as he describes all the things you could do it that hotel room, just how long the two of you could spend there without leaving and without getting bored. A giggle bubbles from your chest, Din's own laughter joining yours. He wraps you in his arms, resting his chin on your head, breath ruffling your hair as he exhales. "I never laughed like this before you. I don't want to lose you."

"So you won't," you reply, nuzzling closer to his chest. "The only place I'm going is that hotel you were telling me about. What else could we do there, Mandalorian?"

His laughter fills the room again, the rich timbre settling over your bones like a velvet blanket. "Let me show you what I had in mind," he whispers into your ear as he lowers you both gently to the blanket-covered ground.

[raggaraddy]

The Basement: part one

Anon request: Hi can I request an assassin!yoongi one shot where yoongi gets jealous over reader somehow even though I know he isolates her so she depends on him but maybe she somehow stumbles into a colleague of his in his living room or a friend and the friend is 👀 looking not so respectfully

A/N: Enjoy lovely. 💜💜💜 Part two

Summary: For the first time ever there is someone else in the house with you and Yoongi. How could Yoongi expect you to resist speaking with him.

Trigger warnings: Violence, intimidation, kidnapping, imprisonment, yandere themes.

Yoongi

Yandere! Yoongi

Assassin! Yoongi

It may only be a few hundred square meters, but this house is your entire world. You know every creak, every floorboard that squeaked, how each door closes, everything. So in the middle of the night when you are woken by an almighty thump, at once you could recognize how out of place it was.

Cautiously sneaking downstairs and peering around every bend, you are just in time to see Yoongi slamming the basement door shut behind him.

Putting your ear to the entrance, you could hear the sounds of banging, of the chains, of low spoken voices. Over and over in your head, you told yourself to ignore it. To go back to bed and let it be. But the signs that there was another person down there with Yoongi were clear, and the temptation of that was too much to bear.

Your lesser instinct winning out, you open the door, instantly coming face to face with an ascending Yoongi. And behind him, in the place where you had been chained up many times before was a hooded man. Seated on the floor in a slumped position. His hands fixed against the wall keeping them high.

"Out," Yoongi demands, shoving your shoulder lightly to push you back through the doorway.

"Who-" is all you can gape, disbelief printed on your face.

"Not your concern." He refuses, closing the door. Continuing to push you back into the kitchen. "You do not go down there. Am I clear?" A finality to his expression not allowing any room for discussion or expansion.

Nodding, with a small pout you look at the basement one last time before faking a smile and returning to bed.

You were awestricken. Not once in nearly 8 months have you seen or heard another person in this house. Also not during the 6 months stretch before that. No one had visited. Not a single person had come past the house or had even driven up the driveway by accident. Your curiosity was burning you from the inside out. Your longing to see, to speak to another human aching your very soul.

Yoongi had gone into town, leaving you alone with the unlocked basement door. You'd always been chained up if he kept you down there, so it had never needed to be locked before. And the very idea of taking a quick peek was so tantalizing. However, on the more sensible side of this debate, you knew that Yoongi's word was final and you had never disobeyed him before.

You would like to say you were smart enough for this to at least be a difficult decision. But you swiftly threw common sense to the wind and went downstairs the second you heard the car pull out of the garage. Your body buzzing as you approached the new man.

With a heavy breath and timorous movements, you pull the hood back from the man's head. Black, straight, short hair. Dark, full brows, a perfect heart-shaped face, and ears that stuck out just a little too far. From head to toe, he's largely built. Taller and wider than Yoongi, making you astounded to think about how dangerous he really was.

For a few seconds, the both of you look equally surprised to see the other. Your pulse coursing through your ears, mouth slightly agape, looking at another human for the first time in forever.

"Hi," you squeak, nothing else coming to mind.

"Who are you?" He snarls.

It's spoken with so much hostility, but that question is one that brings you so much relief. You break down, pouring out your entire story in a rampant monologue. Telling him in detail everything you could about you, Yoongi, this place and your abductions. Fully spilling all that you had been so desperate to tell.

He, however, gives you nothing in return. For nearly 10 minutes you ask him question after question and he declines them all. Not even his name slips loose. He explains once that he can't know if your working with Yoongi, or that lunatic as he called him, and he is not going to tell you a single thing. Every question afterwards is only met with a solemn stare or a shake of refusal.

"If you won't tell me anything," you mope a little, "well, you look like a James Bond character, so I'm going to call you Mr Spy. The Spy? 007. Spy-man? I'll work on it." You mutter completely senseless and giddy from this rare moment. Continuing to overshare and divulge.

"Okay, Y/N. With everything you've told me, we're on the same page. So, if you help me get out of these," he rattles his hands, "Then I can get you out of this place."

The thought is alluring. But also more than you signed up for when you came down here. Firstly, Yoongi always keeps the keys for these chains on him. But secondly and most importantly, if you attempted to escape, if you tried to leave again Yoongi would never forgive you. You can't get away from him. You know you can't. And if you tried he would lock you up and throw away the key. You couldn't- You can't.

"I'm sorry, but no. I can't." You sadly brush his offer aside. Feeling awful denying him help like that. "I have to go back up before Yoongi comes home," you mumble.

Leaning over him you bring the hood up. You need to return him to how he was. He doesn't fight or argue, seeming to somberly accept his fate, but his eyes do dart to the top of the stairs at the last second.

Reacting to his troubled expression, you spin around seeing Yoongi already home, standing at the entrance.

At once your body tightens becoming flushed with sweat. Scrambling back from the man you stand in the middle of the room, trying to keep your breathing slow and deep to hide your fright.

"I thought," He starts to lower down the stairs, punctuating each point in his sentence with an additional step. "I said. You could not. Come in here."

"I'm sorry," you hush as Yoongi snatches the hood from your hand. Your head lowering in surrender.

"You want to save her?" He turns his attention and building anger towards his new prisoner. His fists are tight, knuckles cracking as he clenches and twists them. "You want to get her out of this place?" The challenge, the hash way he spits the words spoken about you is making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Goosebumps flittering down your skin.

Lurching forward Yoongi's knee bashes into The Spy's head. And again. His foot following down booting him in the chest. And again.

"You think she wants to go with you?!" He growls, beating his fist into his head, over and over. The skin breaking, blood erupting all across his face. The Spy's restrained position not allowing him to protect himself in any way, only able to groan and splutter through the abuse. "You're too weak to even get yourself free. You think you can take her!" Yoongi steps back and lifts his leg, stomping the heel of his boot into the curled up fist of The Spy. Making him explode in a pained howl as you hear the bones crunch.

Not wanting to show any reaction, you stay coiled and fixed. Praying for this to end quickly. You had seen this level of violence and sadism from Yoongi before in the outside world. He doesn't acknowledge or accept any interference and he will only finish on his own terms.

You can't help but think if this is this how cruel and viciously he treats everyone else?

Stomping down again, this time he lines up The Spy's ankle. Throwing all his weight, all his force into the joint. The man's screams turning into cries as he wails in agony.

"No. You're not taking her anywhere." Yoongi straightens up, blowing out a heavy breath. Running his fingers back through his black hair over and over pulling it out of his face. "You're gonna tell me everything I wanna know. And then I'll finally let you die." He swallows hard, rearranging his clothes and loosening his muscles. His fiery explosion now quenched.

You can't lift your eyes as he drags you to the top floor. The basement door sealing, muffling the tears of the man below.

"Yoongi. I told him- I told him I couldn't-" You're starting and stopping, trying to sufficiently explain or plead your case. He's never shown anything near that level of violence towards you, but you were still sure he was about to lock you away endlessly for disobeying him.

He steps into you, silencing and making you jump back, smacking into the wall. Trapped between it and your hovering captor.

"I heard you." He speaks deeply and softly. In complete opposition to how he was moments ago. "Well done." His coarse pronunciation is abandoned as he speaks these words very clearly. Making sure you hear his sincerity.

His hand runs softly over your hair, stroking and cupping your head. Making you fight not to melt. Making you look up at him with big eyes. Any sort of affection from Yoongi instantly impacting you greatly, making you emotional and needy for more. Your bottom lip quivering, you whimper lowly as you lose the internal struggle and lean into his hand. Your eyes scrunching tight, hating yourself for how much his gentle touch affects your heart.

"Come with me," he holds your hand having you trail him upstairs. Taking you into his bedroom where he extends the affection and intimacy. Being with you so tenderly and kindly as your mind and heart tears back and forth between the softness you can feel now, and the horrors you saw him do before.

Despite the risks, your head fills with how and when you could see The Spy again. He was hurt, and he needed your help. And you were too eager to see him again. But when you wake the next day, you find a hefty padlock keeping the basement door sealed.

Yoongi at once reading your reaction. "You should thank me for locking that door Y/N. You don't know how dangerous some people can be."

Part two