#maule region

[wikipediapictures]

Loncomilla River

“Chile, Linares, Loncomilla River. Sifon Bridge and, next to it, the new bridge under construction.” - via Wikimedia Commons (original description translated from Spanish using Google Translate)

[rateeveryflag]

Maule Region

Bad

[maulfucker]

Made a sort of ref for a my version of his tattoos + cybernetics

[postcard-from-the-past]

View of Maule, Mantois region of France

French vintage postcard, mailed in 1948 to Paris

[florestalio]

HIDE-N-SEEK — l.hs

recently, your town has been getting terrorized by a serial killer, going by the name of 'ghostface'. of course you were scared to be his victim. imagine the sheer terror on your face — and the utter delight on his — when your fear turns out to not have been caused by your paranoia.

GENRE— ghostface au, stalker au

WARNINGS— dubcon, then noncon, and then dubcon again (you'll see what I'm talking about), both reader and heeseung are kinda fucked up, mentions of killing, mentions of stalking, knife play, fear play, reader has tits, reader's pussy gets called 'her' a few times?, fingering, cum eating, slight spit play, spit kink (?), name-calling (baby, slut, bitch, etc.), unprotected sex (don't), blood, blood play, bulge kink, clit pinching, missionary, mating press, kind of an open ending (?), NOT PROOFREAD, let me know if I missed any!

WORDCOUNT— 8.2k

NOTE— among the italicized text, if you see normal text, it basically indicates the opposite. as in, if the entire block of text wasn't italicized, then the normal text would have been in italics instead... if that helps

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

NO ONE WAS SAFE.

No matter where you resided, if Ghostface chose you as his victim, consider yourself to be dead.

No amount of protection, whether it be in the form of weapons or guards, locked doors or high security neighbourhoods — no one was safe from him.

You may ask, who exactly was ‘Ghostface’? Why, he is a renowned serial killer, one who wears a pitch black coat and a creepy mask, paired with white rubber gloves. The last thing his victims see before dying is the creepy ghostface mask smiling down at them — as said by a ghostface victim, who had miraculously survived the attack, only to die hours later in the same hospital at which he was interviewed. Reports say that the victim had been stabbed a total of twenty times, the word ‘Ghostface' carved onto his forehead. Apparently, he didn't appreciate the fact that someone survived him — even if it was only for a few hours.

Which was why everyone was scared to go out, even during the day. Till this date, no one had ever seen his actual face, his entire existence a mystery to everyone except him. He was truly an enigma, the source of both amazement and horror for all.

People were scared to even interact with each other, in case said person turned out to be Ghostface. What if they did something to piss the other person off, resulting in their death — perhaps in just a few hours from the aforementioned incident?

For an introvert like you, avoiding people came easy to you, it being your second nature. You weren't too worried about offending Ghostface, even by mistake. But no one was ever truly safe, not from the hands of a psycho serial killer, were they?

You would often find yourself peeking behind your shoulder at random times of the day, checking if someone was looking at you, or worse, following you. Perhaps it was simply due to your paranoia, combined with the increasing cases of deaths in the hands of Ghostface. Either way, your guard was always up.

You used to stay at the dorms on campus before, even when the deaths had started occurring on a daily basis. It was only after Regina — a girl who you never really liked because of her bitchy attitude — was found one morning by her roommate, completely mauled in her own dorm, lying in a pool of her own blood — did you finally feel terrified enough to move out of them, moving into a house in a slightly secluded region of the town, just around ten blocks away from campus. It wasn't a complete guarantee of your security, but it was better than nothing.

From some of the recent reports, apparently the victims of Ghostface were — stalked by him a few days prior to him killing them. Photos of the victims taken without their knowledge during the week before their death were found with their body. The police declared them to be taken by Ghostface, a fact that left you even more shaken than before.

You didn't have to be afraid of him. You were more than sure that you never did anything to piss anyone off, at least not knowingly. Surely no one could be holding a grudge against you, right? Especially not Ghostface?

Right?

IT WAS A NORMAL FRIDAY NIGHT — or as normal as it could be with the threat of becoming Ghostface’s next victim hanging heavily in the air.

Friday nights used to be the time when you danced, sang, got drunk, and hooked up, all night long at the frat parties that were held religiously every Friday. Now? Now people were afraid to look in other people's direction, in fear of provoking Ghostface.

It was truly remarkable, the way he had everyone in his chokehold. Rumors surrounding him specifically were mostly to blame for this.

See, according to many, Ghostface apparently likes to… toy with his victims before killing them. Exactly how does he toy with them?

According to the rumours, he gives them a phone call, taunting them. His voice is always distorted by a voice modulator, adding to the air of mystery surrounding him.

People were already downright terrified of him, but some people who apparently thought themselves to be hilarious, often mimicked Ghostface's antics — or what the rumours about him said — and called people up randomly, with a voice modulator. They would take advantage of the fact that no one actually knew what it sounded like, terrifying people to the core.

While some did it for pranking purposes, others did it for more malicious intentions, taking advantage of people's fears. It started getting worse and worse, the fakers, that is — until the government finally declared it to be a crime to mimic Ghostface, announcing a long time in jail for anyone who attempted it.

This put a stop to the mimicking, but it only made people grow more antsy. People were always silently waiting till their turn arrived to be Ghostface’s new victim, a fact that thrilled no one, but sent a chill down their spines, everytime they even thought of it.

Tonight was especially dark. The moon was behind the clouds, the eerie darkness causing you to feel more terrified than normal. It wasn't that dark, but with Ghostface out in the open…

You decided to focus on washing the rest of dirty dishes instead, trying to get your mind off the serial killer. You had procrastinated long enough, the dishes starting to pile up. What better way to distract yourself?

You turned on the television, listening to an anime while washing the dishes. Silence scared you, — which was ironic, since you were an introvert with terrible social anxiety — the need to have some kind of sound, in the tiny and isolated house of yours, other than the sound of washing dishes, was extremely high. The only available option on the television was anime, and… well, the news. But no one wants to listen to the news during these times — all the news channels simply showed Ghostface's new victims and their mutilated bodies that lay in a pool of their own blood.

You were done with washing the dishes, putting all the plates away neatly — when suddenly, your phone rang. You peeked at the screen, your lips turning into a frown — it was an unknown number.

You wiped your hands on your pants, picking up the call, putting the phone to your ear. “Hello…? May I know who this is?”

The phone remained silent for an entire minute. Just as you were about to speak again, a somewhat distorted voice came from the other side of the call. “What's your name?”

You frowned. Why was this person asking for your name, when he was the one that called you in the first place? What a fucking weirdo.

You spoke again. “I don't wish to sound rude, but — shouldn't I be the one asking that? I mean, you were the one that called me, you know — not the other way around.”

You heard a chuckle from the other side of the phone. It creeped you out, the sound more menacing than amused. He spoke again, his voice still sounding distorted. “Aren’t you adorable?”

You were starting to feel creeped out now. Your hand was gripping the last plate in your hand tightly, not even noticing how much pressure you were using on it. You spoke in a slightly higher voice, your tone pitchy with a detectable hint of panic. “Listen Mr. Stranger — I don't know who you are, nor am I particularly curious. But you aren't fucking funny, so if you don't have anything of importance to say, I'm hanging up.”

Silence. Again. This guy was really testing your patience.

Finally, he spoke again, his voice lower… still distorted. “I would watch my tone if I were you, sweetheart. It's no way to talk to a… stranger, is it?”

You gulped. He sounded so… ominous, his tone nothing short of menacing. With your anxiety spiking, you spoke again, your voice mostly level except for the slightest tremor to it. “What do you want…?”

The guy on the other side of the call let out a hum. “To know your name, of course. You still haven't told me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your grip on the plate tightening. “But why? What is the importance of my name to you?”

He let out a chuckle, his next words making your blood run cold. “So I can know who I'm looking at.”

You almost dropped the phone, all the colour from your face draining. You managed to speak up in a shaky voice. “C-Cut the act. You're not funny — the government declared jail for the pretenders, yet you're impersonating him–?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “But darling, I'm not an impersonator, am I?” His voice grew lower, an underlying threat evident in it. “You don't believe me to be one either.”

Tears stung your eyes, the hand that was clutching the plate starting to shake. You slowly put down the dish, your eyes darting frantically around your living room that was connected to the open kitchen, looking around to spot any potential threat — said ‘threat’ being… Ghostface. Even if you knew that it was pointless. If Ghostface wanted to kill you, he would succeed in doing so — no matter what obstacles he faces. “L-Look Mr. Ghostface — I barely even go out! Even when I do, I mostly keep to myself, I don't even interact with anyone. I'm sure I haven't done anything to piss anyone off — let alone you, even unintentionally! So why…”

Your voice took on a tone of desperate resignation at the end, the subtle acceptance of your fate evident in it. Ghostface cooed at your tone, his own voice sounding like that of an excited child. “Aren't you cute? Don't worry, you didn't piss me off, just — intrigued me. You're always so alone, all by yourself… I just had to find out everything about you, didn't I? You are such a mystery, one I took utter delight in unraveling. It's only fair that I get a prize for my hard work, right ___?”

With each word he spoke, his voice could be heard louder and louder, coming from somewhere around the house. Right as he finished the sentence, the side door of your house, leading to the garden outside, slammed open. Ghostface stood in the doorway, a knife in one hand, a burner phone in the other. He spoke, his voice distorted from the voice modulator.

“Right, ___?”

You let out a loud scream, the tears finally breaking free, as you turned on your heel, getting out of the open kitchen, towards the stairs. You knew from all those horror movies that running into your bedroom would be the worst possible move, but you really had no choice. You could hear him behind you, laughing as he gave chase. “Running off so quickly, darling? Won't you at least give me a greeting, welcome me into your house? That's bad manners, you know. Or did mama not teach you any?”

His voice sounded like two people, speaking at once, one of a real person, the other a distorted voice like those in old radios. It unnerved you, since his voice modulator was probably glitching due to him running. You ran into your bedroom, locking it quickly — just in time for him to bang on the door loudly.

He yelled loudly, his voice bordering on that of manic excitement. “Open the door ___! You know that the bedroom is never a smart move. Or are you a dumb baby that doesn't know the basics of survival?”

His taunting was causing your already scattered thought process even harder to get together, your hands shaking. You looked for a hiding place before he inevitably broke down the door.

Under the bed? A good idea, but he would probably think of the same. But what other hiding places could there possibly…  the closet.

You quickly ran to the closet, throwing open its door. You pushed some of your clothes apart, going far inside, before pulling the clothes in front of you to make it seem as inconspicuous as possible. You sat at the back, your legs pulled up to your chest, your breathing shallow. You realised what a terrible hiding place it was, but it will have to do.

The banging grew more frantic, before he finally managed to kick down the door. You could hear his voice from inside the closet, causing you to still your breathing, to avoid getting caught. His voice was more of a menacing growl, no longer disoriented — maybe his voice modulator ran out of batteries? “Having fun princess? You're so fucking naive if you think hiding here will save you.”

He paced about the room slowly. “Where could you be hiding, hm? I hope it's not–” He dropped to his knees, peeking under the bed. “–under the bed? No, of course not. That would have been too easy. You're naive, but not that much, huh?”

But then he let out a snicker, one that almost caused you to start crying again. You could hear his footsteps again. “Or are you?”

Before you could comprehend the meaning of his words, the closet door was thrown open, his hand grabbing your wrist in a vice-like grip, pulling you out, tearing a scream out of you. “Turns out you are a dumb little bunny after all.”

He tackled your struggling figure to the ground, pinning your legs with his knees on either side of you. He used one of his hands to pin your wrists above your head, his other hand raising the knife, pushing it under your jaw, just a hair-breath shy of cutting into your throat. His voice sounded like a growl, an octave deeper. “Don't you fucking dare move — unless you would like me to slit your pretty little throat open. Trust me, I would take great pleasure in doing so.”

Your movements stilled, your breath coming out in short huffs. Tears were streaming down your face freely, your entire body covered in goosebumps. You stared up at him — at his mask, rather. He tilted his head to the side. “Did you have fun playing hide and seek? I hope you did, because I cannot guarantee that you will be having much fun now — it's my turn to have fun now, afterall.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You were starting to accept your fate. Any moment now, he would slice the knife across your throat, slitting it in one clean swipe. He would laugh while watching the blood flowing freely from the wound, watching as the life leaves your eyes. It was all just a game for him, after all.

But he seemed to have different plans. He trailed his knife down, under the edge of your shirt. He slipped it inside, the cool metal making contact with your skin, the temperature difference sending a jolt through you. He traced the pointed end on your stomach, before doing something that shocked you — and gave you a hint of his true intentions.

He turned the knife sideways, sharp side facing up, before digging it into your shirt, slicing through it. The knife tore through the fabric like paper, before he threw the ruined fabric in some random corner of the room. You gasped at the cold air, squirming slightly. He pressed the knife above your stomach warningly. “Sit still darling. Or else I won't hesitate to cut up your useless body.”

Tears stung your eyes again at his words. But you stilled, too eager to survive. Your eyes suddenly widened as you saw him slip the knife under the middle part of your bra, before slicing it open. You gasped as he threw the discarded fabric away, the cool air hitting your boobs, your nipples instantly hardening. You were suddenly acutely aware of the precarious position you were in, unable to stop the heat creeping up your neck, as you noticed his intense gaze on your tits.

He gave you a warning look from behind his mask, his knife coming back against your throat. “One wrong move, and your throat will get sliced open.” He let go of your wrists — watching as you kept them in the same place. He smirked under the mask at your pliancy, his gloved hand coming to pinch your hardened nipples.

You let out a tiny shriek of surprise at the feeling of his rubber clad fingers groping you, unable to resist a whimper as he squeezed your mounds. He was merciless in the way he groped you, squeezing and pinching, completely unaffected by your whimpers and gasps — it was exhilarating.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to hold back a whine, as he twisted your nipple in between his fingers. You desperately tried to ignore the heat that was pooling down in your lower stomach, your heart racing.

He pinched your nipple again, squeezing your left tit roughly. He felt you shudder underneath him, the usual thrill that came with threatening his victims, running through his veins.

Yet, there was something else — an almost imperceptible hitch in your breathing, a flicker of… heat in your eyes, despite the situation you were in. Curious, he slightly moved his knife away from your throat, but not enough to make you feel any less threatened. “What's this…?”

You looked into the eyes of his mask, gulping audibly. He pinched your nipple again, tearing out a whine from you. His eyes narrowed at your reaction. He wasn't dumb — he knew when someone was turned on. But… in this situation? With a knife to your throat? Your life in his hands? It made no sense. Still — his body responded, his pants tightening.

He slowly dragged the knife down, in between your breasts, pausing at your stomach. He looked up at your face, searching for any sign of fear, or even defiance — nothing.

Instead, he saw your lips parted slightly, your breath hitching — he swore he saw your pupils dilate. He let out a shaky breath, his voice laced in disbelief. “You…”

His grip tightened noticeably, curiosity and annoyance warring in his expression. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" The realization sent a jolt of dark excitement through him. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Sick bitch.”

You let out a whimper, shaking your head frantically, in denial of the whole situation. Still, your thighs rubbed together involuntarily, trying to quell the ache between them.

An almost menacing chuckle escaped him as he registered your movement. His free hand moved to pin your thighs down, trapping them between his own once again. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, feeling his control slip. "You're really getting off on this?”

You let out a whine, squirming slightly. He stared down at you, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never been this close to losing control before. But the way you were reacting, the way you were looking at him — it was driving him insane.

"I should cut you," he growled, the knife trembling against your stomach. Your eyes fluttered slightly at the threat, a slow exhale leaving you. You couldn't understand your own body. Why, the fuck, were you reacting the way you were?

He blinked rapidly, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it. The knife lowered incrementally. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was incredulous, though tinged with reluctant awe. "Getting turned on by someone threatening you?”

Your eyes stung with tears at his words, your body reacting in the completely opposite manner — your thighs clenched, an almost pitiful whimper leaving you.

He watched your body language, the tears welling up in your eyes — a strange mix of emotions hit him. He dropped the knife to his side, as one of his gloved hands slid up to grip your jaw firmly. "You're fucked up." He whispered, anger and desire clashing in his voice.

You gulped, only just realising that your hands were free. Yet you made no attempt to move them.

His grip tightened on your jaw, leaning in until his face was almost touching yours — his mask, rather. His breath was ragged, mingling with yours. "Is this what you wanted?" he snarled, though the bite was gone from his voice, replaced by confusion, mixed with arousal. "To get me all worked up?”

You whimpered at the pressure on your jaw, your nails digging into your palm, as you clenched your fists. You were so, so painfully aroused.

A rough sound caught in his throat as he stared down at you, fighting an internal battle. He originally just wanted to play with you a little, make you feel worthless — like trash that he could easily dispose of. Disposing you was exactly what he had planned to do, although now that plan was no longer going to be put into action — at least for the time being. 

He threw the knife away, causing it to clatter to the floor. His other hand moved to your hip, digging into the flesh there. "You little…”

You winced at his grip, your nose scrunching up in pain. You stared up at him, tears still evident in your waterline.

That was his last straw. He took off his mask, allowing you a brief glimpse of his face. His last semblance of control shattered, as he cut himself off, his mouth crashing against yours in a bruising kiss. His tongue forced its way in, tangling with yours demandingly. He kissed you like he was trying to punish you, to make you pay for the effect you were having on him.

Your eyes widened in shock, as you gasped loudly into the kiss. You tried to kiss him back, to match his pace — all in vain. His lips were punishing, intending to make it hurt for you. Unfortunately all it did was make you crave for more.

He finally broke the kiss, panting heavily as he rested his forehead against yours. His heart was racing, his mind reeling. "What the fuck is going on…?" he muttered, his voice shaking with a combination of anger and awe. "You're supposed to be scared, not turned on."

You gulped. Your senses were starting to blur, all of them zeroing in on his touch and his voice. It was painstakingly weird how you were reacting — how he was reacting to you. But damn, you enjoyed it — so fucking much.

He pulled back slightly, searching your eyes with a fierce intensity. "Say something, fuck. Explain this." His hands remained gripping you, betraying his conflicted desire and frustration. "I'm trying to terrify you and instead..." He trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief.

When you didn't immediately respond, he growled low in his throat. His hands tightened around you, his body pressed flush against yours. "Fucking talk, you little bitch. Tell me why the fuck you're so turned on right now."

Your breath hitched, your mind going blank. He was insulting you, his voice carrying disgust — you fucking loved it.

A dark smirk crossed his face at your breath hitching, his thumb brushing across your lower lip. "Look at that — all worked up, can't form words…" He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear. "Does it make your pussy throb when I threaten you?"

Your eyes widened at the sudden crude language and the bluntness in his voice, your skin pricking, panties practically sticking to your cunt. He was right — your pussy did indeed throb when he threatened you.

Suddenly, you realised that you recognised him. He was Heeseung, one of the most popular guys at your college.

You remembered having interacted with him just once, when he bumped into you back in your first year. He was your senior, who immediately apologised to you after that, helping you pick up your books. He walked with you for a while after that, forcefully engaging you in small talk. He didn't seem to mind your short answers or your eagerness to get rid of him at all, continuing to talk — until a friend of his called him to go to class, causing him to reluctantly stop his rambling, waving you bye and leaving.

You remembered finding out all about him that very day during recess, overhearing his name from the table next to yours in the cafeteria. It was a group of girls, who seemed to be gossiping in what they thought were hushed voices… only, they weren't. You could hear every word.

They were specifically talking about Heeseung, about how hot he was, how smart he was — both book smart and street smart. You remembered mentally rolling your eyes at their fawning, before a certain piece of information had caught your interest.

They mentioned him to be a prude, never showing interest in going into relationships or even casual hook ups. Apparently, he had never gone on a date with anyone, politely turning down everyone who asked. It seemed rather odd of him, since he seemed like the dream package.

This incident had occurred a year before the killings first started. Nevertheless, Heeseung was never the kind of guy who seemed to be capable of something as shockingly gruesome as this. The thought made you sick to your stomach, a nasty feeling under your skin.

You snapped back into the present time, looking up at him, truly looking at him. He barely looked anything like the Heeseung you met during freshman year. His smirk grew wider at the sudden realization on your face, his hand moving to gently squeeze your throat. He was going to have to have a talk with you about college later on. Right now, he had more important things to focus on. For instance, how aroused you were from your life being threatened. "Yeah, that's it. Your little heart races and your pussy gets so fucking wet when I scare you." He leaned back to look at you, his eyes gleaming with a sinister light.

He watched your throat bob as you swallowed, his hand still gently squeezing. "You're a fucking mess, you know that?" Heeseung leaned in again, his lips just a hair's breadth from yours. "A little slut who gets off on being threatened.” His words were a whisper against your lips, his breath hot against your skin. "And you know what the worst part is? I think I might actually like it." He pulled back, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

You stared up at him, your breathing slightly shallow, begging him with your eyes to touch you. Heeseung let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "Unbelievable." His hand slid from your throat, trailing down your chest teasingly. "Here I am, supposedly threatening you, but we both know it's me who should be terrified.”

Your back arched into his touch, a small whine leaving you. He chuckled darkly at your reaction, his fingers brushing over the swell of your breasts. "Look at that — arching into my touch like a fucking bitch in heat." His hand continued down, tracing the curves of her body possessively.

You whined at his words, your back arching even more. You let out whimpers, shaky exhales leaving you. His eyes flashed with wicked amusement at the sound. "Oh, listen to those whimpers. Pathetic." He pinched your nipple abruptly, twisting just to the point of pain. "You're so fucking desperate for it, aren't you?”

You let out a loud gasp of pain, your body jolting — yet your body begged for more, a whimper eliciting from you the very next second. A smug grin spread across his face as he watched you whimper. "Five seconds ago I was trying to scare you, now look at you fucking trembling for my touch." He bent down, his lips grazing against your neck, as he nipped at your skin. "What does that make you?”

You gulped. His teeth dragged over your pulse point, marking your skin. "It makes you a needy little slut, doesn't it?" His hand finally reached your thigh, gripping it possessively. "A slut who can't get enough of my touch, no matter how much she pretends to be afraid.”

You whined, begging for more. "Mmm… that whine is fucking music to my ears." He abruptly lifted your leg, wrapping it around his waist as he pressed his hard cock against you. "Don't you see what you do to me? All of that bullshit where you pretended to be scared…”

You let out a shaky moan, pressing back against him. Heeseung silenced you with a brutal kiss, biting your lip to keep you quiet as he rubbed himself against you through your clothes. "You think I'm scary?" He growled, his hands roaming over your body possessively.

You let out sharp gasps, your voice coming out shaky. “A b-bit–?”

He bit your bottom lip harder, pulling back with your lip caught between his teeth. "Shut. Up." His voice was rough, commanding. "You don't get to smart-mouth me while you're practically dripping." He let your lip go with a sharp tug, making you whimper.

You bit your lip to muffle any further noises. His eyes darkened dangerously as he noticed your silence, one hand capturing both wrists above your head once again, while the other trailed down to your center. "Not going to lie, but princess? The way you just submitted to me like that?" He pressed against you meaningfully. "Fucking hot.”

You whimpered at his touch, your hips bucking up, pressing into his hand. He pushed his hand inside your shorts, his fingers finding her soaked panties, rubbing against your clit through the fabric. "So fucking wet. And you know what?" He rubbed faster, his thumb pressing against your clit. "I fucking love it." He released your wrists to grab your face, forcing you to look at him.

You let out a loud whimper at his sudden grip. His fingers continued their torturous rhythm, watching your expression carefully. "You're supposed to be terrified, remember?" He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. "Shouldn't you be trying to push me away instead of grinding against my fingers like a good little slut?”

You bit your lip, staring into his eyes, trying to prevent yourself from moaning out loud. His free hand gripped your hip tightly, pulling you flush against him, as he continued his movements. "You're a fucking liar." He growled, his fingers moving faster. "Admit it. You're not afraid of me. You're so fucking turned on.”

You let out a choked moan, grinding back onto his fingers. He grinned sadistically, his fingers finally moving your panties aside to slip inside you. "Mmm, look at that." He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot perfectly.

You let out a loud gasp, your back arching. You could see stars at the back of your eyes, that's how good it felt. He thrust his fingers deeper, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "You're so fucking tight. And wet." He leaned down to bite your neck, hard, sucking a bruise on your skin. "I bet my dick would fit perfectly in this pretty little cunt.”

You clenched around his fingers at his words, the thought of it making you crave even more. His fingers continued their relentless pace, feeling you clench around him. "You haven't answered me." His voice was low and dangerous. "Is that silence because you're afraid? Or because the thought of me fucking you is making you even wetter?”

You gulped, choosing to stay silent. He nuzzled against your neck, his breath hot against your skin, as he spoke. "Let me make it easier for you. Answer this." He thrust his fingers deeper. "Am I scaring you? Or turning you on even more than before?”

You let out a moan at the feeling of his fingers hitting deeper. His fingers curled harder, hitting your g-spot perfectly. "Ah, fuck, that's it." He pulled his fingers out, using the wetness to rub against your clit before shoving them back inside. "You're turned on. Impossibly so.”

He pulled his fingers out again, this time using his thumb to rub your clit in tight circles. "You're so fucking turned on, you can't even answer properly." He pressed two fingers back inside you, curling them to hit her g-spot again.

You let out a loud moan. He chuckled darkly as he felt your moan vibrate through your body. "That's it, princess. Don't hold back." He pumped his fingers harder, the wet squelching noises filling the room. "Your pussy is practically begging to be fucked.”

He added a third finger, stretching your cunt further. "Fuck, look at her." He pulled his fingers out, rubbing your clit with all three before shoving them back inside. "Your cute little cunt is starving for my dick.”

Heeseung increased his pace, fucking you with his fingers mercilessly. "Come all over my fingers," He growled in her ear. "Show me how badly you want it." He bit down harder on your neck, hitting your g-spot perfectly as he curled his fingers.

You let out a loud mewl, your eyes rolling back into your head. You clenched around his fingers, the band in your stomach starting to coil impossibly tight. The squelching noises from where his fingers slid in and out of you at a fast pace, did absolutely nothing, but cause an embarrassed flush to creep all over your face and neck.

He pressed down on your clit with his thumb, rubbing on it sloppily. Your abundant slick helped him do just that, the pace of his fingers growing harsher, mirroring his buddying frustration. A low growl bubbled in his throat, as he forced his fingers to go in deeper, trying to practically force an orgasm out of you. Needless to say, he succeeded soon enough, your back arching with a loud cry, your pussy clamping down on his fingers, your release practically gushing around them.

“That's it…” He coaxed, his fingers still pumping in and out of you, drawing out your release. “Look so pretty like this, all pliant for me.”

Your head was empty, completely devoid of all thoughts, your legs shaking slightly from the overstimulation. He let out a snicker at your state, bringing his hand up, in front of his face. He locked eyes with you, spreading his fingers, letting you see the strings of arousal clinging to them.

Upon seeing your flushed face, a smirk creeped up on his. Maintaining eye contact with you, he leisurely started licking his fingers clean. He dragged his tongue from the bottom of his finger to the top, collecting your cum on it, his saliva replacing it on your fingers.

Your eyes fluttered slightly, mouth parting. Heeseung took that as his que to grab your jaw and hold it open — with the same hand that he had stuffed inside you just moments ago — pushing his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue. Holding your mouth open, he gathered a wad of spit with his tongue, before leaning down and spitting right into your open mouth. He watched with hooded eyes, as your own rolled back into your head, his spit dripping down to the back of your throat.

You could feel a tingling in your pussy again, empty, aching to be stuffed. Maybe with something more than just his fingers. He noticed the slight change in your body language almost immediately, of course he did — but who was he to deny you, when you were being so good for him?

Heeseung gave you a stern look. “Behave. Be a good girl, and keep still for me, hm?”

You could only gulp in response, as he released your jaw. You watched, as he shook off the black coat — or costume, whatever it was supposed to be. You kept still, your wrists still above your head, your fists clenching tightly, mimicking your thighs. Your eyes raked over his bare torso, your gaze trailing down — eventually resting on his extremely obvious hard on in his boxers. A large patch was already forming on its front from his precum, his cock straining hard against the fabric, begging to be released.

He smirked at your gaze. Teasingly, he ran his palm over his bulge, feeling it twitch under his hand. “Like what you see baby?”

You gulped, your eyes snapping up to his own. Your breath sped slightly, wanting to do something risky. Your life was still very much in danger, but you were willing to take the risk for now.

You slowly sat up, your face now extremely close to his. He raised a brow, an unimpressed gleam in his eyes. Yet, there was a curiosity in them — wanting to know your next move.

Although your next move didn't really impress him. Quite the opposite.

You raised your hand, slowly inching it closer to his boner. His eyes narrowed at your audacity. In a flash, he reached to his side, and picked up the discarded knife, holding it to your throat. He glared down at you, a cold, calculating look in his eyes. “Lay. Back. Down. Unless you want me to slit your throat, cut the rest of your body up, and use your blood as lube to fuck your corpse?”

Your eyes widened at his words, your hand freezing mid air, before quickly falling back to your side. Upon receiving another pointed glare from him, you laid back down, mindful of the knife that was back in his hands. You wanted him — no, needed him to fuck you — you, not your future possibly no-longer-breathing corpse.

Upon ensuring that you weren't up to anymore tricks, he once again put the knife away — out of your reach, but not out of his. Heeseung shrugged off his boxers, his cock immediately slapping against his stomach. It left a trail of precum, which he gathered on his fingers, before wrapping that same hand around his dick. He started to slowly pump it, using his own precum to slick it up.

Noticing your almost pitifully needy expression, he let out an amused scoff, before holding out his hand under her mouth. “Spit.” He ordered in a gruff voice.

Your eyes widened slightly at his command, before you hesitantly obeyed. Gathering a wad of saliva in your mouth, you spit it into his hand, watching with hooded eyes, as he used it to jerk himself off faster.

Once he was done, he spread your thighs again, letting out a confused grunt at how much more force he needed to use as compared to last time. He glared up at you. “You and I both know you want this, princess. So stop trying to deny me what I hunted you for. Or else…”

You bit your lip to suppress a whimper. Were you sick for getting even wetter at his words? Definitely. Should you tell him to stop and possibly escape whatever he was going to do? Obviously. Will you do it? Absolutely not.

In fact, an absolutely brilliant idea struck your magnificent brain. You decided to not obey him. Him, the renowned serial killer, Ghostface. Were you basically signing your own death certificate? Well… no harm in finding out, right?

You tried to close your legs shut, something which immediately earned you a nasty glare from him. His jaw clenched tightly, as he forcefully shoved your legs apart again. His hand reached for the knife, your eyes widening at the sight. “Seems like someone hasn't learnt their lesson yet…”

You tried to beg him to not hurt you, but the words died in your throat when he pressed the knife to it. A creepy smile adorned his face, as he caressed your face in a gentle manner, a sharp contrast to the knife to your throat. “Let me spell it out for you–” Right as he said those words, he grabbed your wrists tightly, holding you under him firmly, the knife lifting from your throat. You got confused for a second, before a scream tore out of you.

He was carving something on your stomach.

He shallowly carved his initials onto your stomach, laughing as you screamed. “Squirming will only make it hurt more~” He almost sang, his tone causing you to sob.

He was finally done, watching the blood flow out of the wound, almost moaning at the sight. “Fuck baby, do you even realise how hot you look right now?”

You hated it, every single bit of it. You didn't want him to fuck you anymore, hell, you felt ashamed of yourself for ever wanting it. You felt disgusted beyond words by yourself, for having him carve his initials on your stomach to make you realise the kind of guy you were dealing with. He wasn't some hot fictional guy from the books you read, he was an actual serial killer — someone who could quite literally kill you as and when he pleased.

Heeseung seemed to sense your inner monologue. He snickered. “Suddenly regretting everything baby? That's cute… it's as if you believe you had a choice in this in the first place. Cute.”

You wanted to scream, cry, sob — all at the same time. How did you even manage to get yourself into this mess?

You didn't have much time to ponder, as he suddenly sliced his knife through your panties, finally ripping them off you. He shrugged off his own boxers, rubbing the tip of his cock along the arousal coating your puffy folds. A shiver ran down your spine, causing you to bite down on your lip. You hated it, you didn't want it — but your body couldn't deny how good it felt.

Heeseung wasn't any less affected than you. He let out a groan, his eyes shutting briefly. “See how good that feels baby? You think you don't want it, but your body says something different. See how your pussy keeps dripping all over my cock?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears welling up in them — tears from exactly what, you didn't know. Was it embarrassment? Pain? Pleasure? Neither did you know, nor were you keen on finding out.

With his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, he slowly pushed himself in, groaning from how easily he slid in, thanks to your slick. He let out a rough noise from the back of his throat. “Look at how your cunt is sucking me in like a slut. You sure you don't want this, baby?”

His knife had returned to your throat, his other hand gripping your hip. You could only bite your lip to muffle a whimper, your tears having broken free. He felt — good. You just wished this happened under different circumstances. When he wasn't cutting you up or threatening your life as Ghostface, maybe.

He bottomed out, burying himself to the hilt. He let out a groan, his eyes falling to your stomach. They widened, noticing something other than his initials he had just carved on it. There was a bulge on your stomach. “Holy shit…”

As if in a trance, he pressed down on it with his hand that wasn't holding the knife, watching as you involuntarily arched your back. He let out a laugh in disbelief. “Would you look at that? Had no idea you were this sexy, princess.”

He didn't wait to see your reaction, pulling out slowly, before slamming back inside. He watched your body jerk at the force, the bulge disappearing and reappearing. It was so, so hot.

He put the knife away, just out of reach of you. He gripped your hips with both hands, once again pulling almost completely out, watching as the bulge disappeared, before slamming back in, watching it reappear. He effectively tore a moan out of you this time, watching in amusement as you quickly slammed a hand onto your mouth, your eyes looking mortified. It was as if you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this.

You were so cute. So. Fucking. Cute.

He pulled out again, pushing back in with much more force than before, setting a fast pace. He watched with a perverse amusement, as you let out a choked scream, flailing your arms above your head aimlessly, as if looking for something to grab on to. He fastened his pace, grunts leaving his throat with every thrust.

Your screaming was gradually turning into moans, the undeniable pleasure coursing through you making your head spin. It didn't help how the room was filled with wet slapping sounds from where the two of you kept connecting, the sting from the cut on your stomach barely there anymore. You felt hot, an insatiable thirst in your pussy, being quenched by his unforgiving pace.

His thrusts never once faltered, the bruising grip that he had on your hips was starting to hurt — just a bit. He let out a small groan, his eyes once again falling on your stomach, the bulge disappearing and reappearing in it at a comically fast pace. “Hah — look s’fucking cute like t-this — just lying there like a pliant little whore — taking my cock — fuck–”

He was cut off by your pussy clenching around him, his groan cutting through the constant wet slapping from where you both kept connecting. Encouraged by your reaction, he sped up, reaching an almost animalistic pace.

Your head was starting to go blank from his pace, the way he continued to pound into your sobbing cunt had you seeing stars. His name left your mouth in a breathy moan, causing his eyes to pop out, him almost spilling his load inside you right then and there.

Without stopping his unforgiving pace, he grabbed your jaw in one hand, his nails digging into your cheeks. “Say it again — c'mon baby, moan my name again — let me hear you, fuck–”

He was cut off by you whimpering, the unmistakable sound of his name leaving your mouth for the second time. With a growl, he gripped both of your thighs, throwing your legs over his shoulders. The new position allowed him to reach deeper, hitting your spot with every thrust. It had you seeing stars, uncontrollable moans and his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

He reached one of his hands down to rush harsh circles on your hardened bundle of nerves, trying to force an orgasm out of you. “C'mon baby, cum for me — squeeze my cock harder, fucking cum for me–”

The band in your stomach tightened to an impossible level, ready to snap. He pinched your clit, hard, continuing to rub dizzying circles around it. He delivered a harsh slap to it, causing you to finally topple over the edge.

Your ears were filled with a loud ringing noise, vision going white. You clenched around his length, gripping it in a vice like grip. Your cum flowed around his length, coating it completely. He groaned, as he kept pumping in and out of you, a white ring forming at the base of his cock. The sight had him pistoning out of you at a ridiculously fast pace, before burying himself to the hilt inside you. Warm, thick ropes of cum erupted from his tip, painting your insides white. He slowly grinded his hips, still inside you, ensuring that none of it fell out.

He stayed like that for a moment, before pulling out his softening length with a hiss. He fucked his cum back inside with his fingers, enjoying the way your body racked with shudders, little whines escaping you from the sensitivity.

He slowly sat up, admiring your spread out body. He brushed his hand through your hair, rubbing the sweat off your forehead. “You know,” He started, looking down at you with an unsettling smile. “I never fucked anyone I was going to kill before. Never felt attracted enough to them. But you–” He hesitated for a second, before speaking again. “I used to have a crush on you back in college. Remember when I bumped into you once? It was on purpose. I needed an excuse to talk to you. It really hurt me when I realised that you weren't interested in doing so, you know? You were the reason I never went out with anyone, either.”

You gulped, staring back at him. He had an unreadable expression on his face. “I started this — this killing streak, to get your attention. But then I started enjoying it too much — fantasizing what you would look like, all cut up and bleeding prettily for me, begging for me to let you live. It got me so fucking hard, you know? Jerked myself off to that thought so many nights. Until tonight — I knew I had to get you — kill you. Play with you a little first. Didn't think it would escalate to this though.”

He grinned, his eyes holding a kind of craziness that sent a chill down your spine. “Maybe I won't kill you…” He murmured, his hand caressing your cheek. “I’ll just… keep you. My pretty little toy, mine to use and play with, as and how I feel like. Isn't that right, princess?”

[bonuscatart]

[Image ID. Tumblr tags reading:

#hocus pocus #thackery binx #warrior cats #no but this would work! #like Binx learns about the medicine cats and their herb stuff and their communing with StarClan and and he’s all like #OMG! It’s a cat witch!! Hissssssss! #and somebody has to set the newcomer straight before he freaks out #and then at some point he gets killed but comes back because of his curse #and everybody is shocked and suspicious of this random cat having nine lives #why? was he a leader? how can this be? #???

End ID.]

Okay, so in Hocus Pocus, Thackery Binx decided to spend his eternity as a cat guarding the black flame candle. But because of the way the candle works, he really only had to watch the Sanderson house on Halloween, yeah? And only Halloweens with full moons? So he could spend the rest of his time doing whatever as a cat, roaming around learning modern lingo and pranking people and whatever, right?

Here’s a concept: he wanders by a particular part of the woods and accidentally stumbles into the plot of a Warrior Cats book. And for some reason he just has to roll with it undercover. By the time he gets a chance to leave, he’s made friends and found a place to live where he doesn’t have to be in constant crushing isolation, so he decides to just stay. ‘Cause why not? He gets a clan name and role, and hides the fact that he can speak the language of whatever they call humans in those books (my Warrior Cats phase was quite a while ago, I don’t remember), and makes his excuses to leave every Halloween. Heck, maybe the truth does eventually get out, but whether they believe his story or not, they eventually accept his connection to humans because he gives them insight into the strange ways of those bipedal jerks.

It’s a super weird mashup of fandoms. I think it’s a really fun concept though. I quite enjoy imagining Binx’s reaction to first wandering into some hyper-dramatic battle over clan territory or something. Like, there’s these two cats pacing around each other, lashing out at each other threateningly with their claws and snarling, like “You can never defeat us, for we have the hearts of lions, and our strength is in our bond and devotion to our clan” “Ah, but you underestimate the power to be gained by surreptitious means, and you will fall before me, as weak in battle as in rule.” Meanwhile, Thackery’s just hiding in the bushes watching this super intense kitty cat standoff like Is this real??

[starconstruction]

Gaeul breeding?

The Generous Princess

Gaeul x Male Reader (Smut)

smut tags: pussy eating, fingering, breeding, creampie, impregnation, nicknames, servant reader, princess Gaeul.

Word Count: 3318

Thanks for the ask! I hope you like it, I've seen you around, it seems you like Gaeul alot.

Not proofread.

The kingdom raged with the news of the castle princess Gaeul getting married. What they assumed was a blissful thing for every member of royalty was a nightmare for the main one involved.

"This is madness!" Gaeul screamed at her parents, the king and queen of the nation, a wonderful place which had no official name. Only known as "The Gilded Coast" to those who took an interest to it's rich history. It got its name from its affinity for gold plated everything, a stunning display of opulence that commanded respect.

"You knew this day would come eventually, we held it longer than we would have. Out of respect for you." Her mother spoke, her tone obviously fed up with her daughter's antics.

"Respect?!!" Gaeul was bewildered "If you respected me you'd leave me to marry someone I love!" Her body shaking as she stood up to her parents. Tears of frustration slowly trailing down onto her cheeks.

"Gaeul, you know this is best." Her father chimed in, a reserved individual. He often let his wife make the hard calls as he felt bad hurting his daughter.

"You know we have to do this, our kingdom will prosper. The Emerald Shores have lots of material we could benefit from. A trade union will help all of us." Her mother exclaimed, dismissing Gaeul's feelings as her body straightened against the throne.

"No! I'm not marrying anyone I don't know! That is final!" Gaeul screamed as she ran down the stairs of the lavish throne room. Terrified for what she was going to do to prevent this.

--

You were definitely down on your luck. Not everyone was fortunate enough to live in a nice home. You weren't even fortunate enough to live in a home at all. The Gilded Coast having one of the lowest homeless populations in the region didn't stop you from sitting on a musty mattress. Flat against the floor as you rested in the streets, bustling with foot traffic as people walked doing their own errands. Most people ignored you, others looked with disgust, some with empathy.

You ate your stale bread, disgusting and difficult to maul but it's all you had. You breathed in as you watched the day sky, a tender light blue dotted with thick grey clouds, an ominous storm threatening to arrive. No shelter covered you from above, you were going to have to brace nature itself.

Oh well, you've done it before.

--

Gaeul sat in her opulent room, absently drawing pictures on paper. Desperate to come up with something as she admired her pens, every colour imaginable laid in a container. A Kaleidoscope of creativity, she yawned as she enjoyed the gentle light radiating from the candle. The gentle hum of jazz playing from the corner on her personal vinyl player. Her creative freedoms being threatened by the greed of her parents.

The thoughts were heavy on her mind, she wasn't getting anywhere as her lines became less focused, threatening to ruin her beautiful drawing. She sighed, getting out the chair, detailed with beautiful golden sigils. All this wealth was for naught if she was going to be couped up in a cage.

"Fucking hell" she murmured to herself, grabbing her coat as she left her suffocating sanctuary, the place of respite being replaced by worry.

-

The storm raged against every fibre of your being, lacerating your clothes with wet slashes as the temperature plummeted. The ground was disgustingly wet as you tried to sleep, a task proving impossible as you laid there shivering.

The night was disturbingly silent, no music, no vendors, nothing. Just you and the rain. Your heart plummeted in your stomach when the rain started to harden, shards of ice smashing against your skin leaving sharp aches in its wake.

"Hey!" A voice pulled you out your head, a girl. Dressed in heavy clothing as her hood covered her features, a shadow talking to you. Her voice was full of concern as she ran to you.

"You can't stay in conditions like this! You'll get sick!" She shouted, her face showing worry as she grabbed your hand.

"What?" You replied.

"Come on! Let's get you somewhere warm!" She pulled you to your feet, dragging you along as she started running.

You two approached the giant gate of the castle, it towered over you as you panicked. "I don't think I should go in there." You said, shivering intensely as the cold bit at you.

"Unless you want to freeze to death, I'd comply!" Her tone was stern as she opened the gate, pushing you forward towards the entrance door.

The cold relented as you entered the castle, big corridors with infinity stretching oak planks, full with dim light as portraits of royalty were hung up on the walls, covered in golden trails, a baroque display of greed. You didn't keep up with the kingdom, it's difficult with no way to get the information.

"Upstairs, first door on the right, I need to grab something." She said, walking in the opposite direction. You were nervous as you walked up the giant stairs, staying out of sight as you darted to her room, opening and shutting the door in an instant.

Her room was quaint and cozy, it was large, very large. A massive king sized bed was propped up against the wall, it looked soft and inviting, but you wouldn't dare touch anything in your condition. The soft scent of vanilla wafted over the room, even these few seconds felt like a paradise compared to outside.

The creak of a door opening behind you alerted you to the strange altruistic girls presence, an average height woman with black hair, she was incredibly gorgeous. In her hand laid a pile of clothes, a grey hoodie, some black pants, socks and a pair of boxer briefs. Alongside a towel.

"These are mine, I had a phase of oversized boy clothes. It's all I can offer, sorry about that. You should shower to prevent getting a cold." Her tone was similarly stern to her one back outside, you smiled as you graciously took her offer. "Shower's over there" She pointed to the door in the corner. "leave your clothes in the basket."

You walked into her bathroom, a massive tub alongside a shower, a mirror full with various supplies, everything was so beautiful. You felt sinful being able to see such a sight clearly not meant for people of your class.

You immediately stripped out of your dirty, frigid clothes, the scent of sweat and dirt that clung to you like thick tar filled your mouth with disgust. Desperately clambering into the tub to reach the shower, the tub had several body washes and shampoos and conditioners. Things you haven't seen in a long time, she never told you which ones to use so you were going to have to gamble.

The warm water washed over you, blasting at your body as you appreciated the feeling for the first time in awhile. The grime on your body disappearing into obscurity, appreciating a new found feeling of cleanliness. You grabbed the first body wash you could find, a sweet scent of citrus came out of it as you applied it to your body. You didn't want to take too long, so you started to speed up. Grabbing the bottle of mint shampoo as you rubbed it into your scalp, rinsing it off and quickly getting out.

You dried your body and got changed before heading out the bathroom. The strange princess was sat on the bed, looking into the roof absently, her features soft and comfortable.

You stood in front of her, "Thank you, so much errr" Your voice died out, no knowledge of her name. "No problem, my name's Gaeul. You homeless?" She was blunt as you nodded, Gaeul was very interesting.

"Yeah, the street in a storm isn't exactly the best place to sleep" You chuckled. Gaeul smiled as she tapped the bed space next to her. You awkwardly sat next to her, the bed was soft and plush as you fell into it.

"Sooooo, what's the plan after tonight?" She asked.

"Probably sit in the same place, hope my mattress dries up." You replied, the warmth of her clothes hung to your body, the sound of hail slammed against the window.

"It doesn't have to do that way, yknow. I mean, I wouldn't mind a personal assistant" She smiled and sat backwards.

"I don't know, are you sure?" You looked at her.

"Yeah I mean, I can set up a mattress over there" She pointed to the corner, next to her bookshelf. "it'd be a pretty nice gig, if I need something from you, you do it."

You thought for a second, she was royalty. So it was unlikely to be a trap, outside was significantly colder, more dangerous.

"I would love to take that position if it's open." The words left your mouth heavily, a possible new leaf to be turned.

"Fantastic, I'll set your mattress up, you'll spend most of your time in here, the other servants are... Much more unsavoury than you appear to be."

She left and quickly returned, a queen sized mattress in tow, this level of kindness was new to you. She got it ready, adorning it with pillows. Covered in a purple and gold case, alongside a matching quilt. Your chest fluttered with warmth as you watched.

"All done, I'll go freshen up then you can. The spare stuff is on the right" She said as she walked into the bathroom. Gaeul was so nice, you couldn't imagine this job being too bad.

You got ready and went to bed, sleeping well for the first time in awhile, dead to the world as arms laid sprawled over the mattress, heat encapsulated your body as you dreamed.

--

Light filled the room through the windows, the chirps of birds sung a song of nature, combined with the sound of Gaeul's humming. Your eyes fluttered open, for the first time in forever you woke up gently. Basking in the warmth of the soft light as you sat up.

"Morning Y/N, hope you slept well." Her voice was deep with sleep. "I need to tell my parents about you, get ready and go downstairs, make two portions of food." Her instructions were firm.

You felt ready to earn your keep.

You knew you could do it.

--

The sizzling of eggs hit the pan, oil splattering as the temperature rose to unfathomable degrees. The kitchen was massive, like everything else in the castle. A few servants came in as they made food of their own. They paid little mind to you, going around their business as they functioned like the blood of the castle, providing life.

The eggs solidified as time went on, spreading some sprinkles of cheese as it melted. Flipping it over as you made a fluffy omelette, throwing it onto a plate. Making another one as you brought it up to her quarters.

Gaeul was sat there, hunched over her chair, crying. You softly approached, putting the omelette in front of her. "I have a week." She said, her cheeks puffed up, red soreness over her face. "One week till my parents want me to marry this guy."

"That sounds awful." You said, unsure what to do as your hand found her back. Tracing circles as you rubbed up and down. Sharing condolences.

"Guess I'm going to have to make it count." Gaeul took a bite of her omelette, "So you can cook, nice." Her tone was still somber with a small hint of hope.

-

Being at Gaeul's beck and call was surprisingly stressful, becoming her personal chef, cleaner, upkeeper and therapist over the course of 4 days was a lot to learn and grasp.

However, there was a sense of deepening connection between the two of you. It started on the second day, when Gaeul started joking around with you.

"You missed a spot!" She teased, pointing at an incomprehensibly small speck of dust. Tapping your shoulder as she insisted you worked further. She was significantly warmer than the servants you had to speak to, a friendship blooming in the slipping time.

-

" Y/N, run me a bath please, I need to relax" She said, it was late at night as the town fell asleep, Gaeul had been running around all day. Dealing with "things".

Water rushed into the bath, pooling into the bottom as it started to rise, taking delicate care to keep the temperature perfect. She liked it nearly burning, your hand found a bottle of expensive bubble liquid, pouring a diligent amount as it foamed up into soapy balls.

The water had reached the desired level as the valve closed, the moisture in the air was thick and claggy, making it hard to breathe as you opened the door. Gaeul was sat as she waited for you to finish.

"It's ready Gaeul" You said, she walked past you, entering the bathroom. "I'll leave you to it." A gentle hand pressed on your shoulder, her lips mere inches from your ear. "As my wonderful servant I think you will wash me." her voice was seductive as your cheeks warmed a light red.

"If you insist" You weren't going to argue, she could be a real hard ass if you expressed concern.

Gaeul pulled her shirt off, your eyes quickly averted their gaze. "Your going to be touching me anyway, look." She pushed your head to lock eyes with her. Her smooth skin was divine, her breasts came into frame as Gaeul's midnight black bra hit the bathroom floor, you should turn away. You shouldn't look, but your captivated.

Gaeul sat down on the toilet seat, adjusting her legs slightly "I'm just so tired, my useful servant, care to finish the job?" She smirked. Reveling in your anxiety. You nestled between her legs, gulping as your hands fumbled with her crotch button, you struggled as it clicked open. Taking a deep breath as you pulled her zipper down. The flap of her clothes fully opened leaving no restraints for you to pull them down. Revealing her smooth endless legs. Her body took your breath away, she was well endowed, shaped perfectly. "Cat got your tongue? Finish the job my servant."

The final boundary blocking Gaeul's fully naked body lied in the centre of her body. A black piece of lace, semi transparent as her pussy hid behind it. A delicate crease creating a bridge into her hole. You cleared your head of the inappropriate thoughts, hooking your fingers into the waistband as they reached the floor. Laying with the rest of her clothes. You felt yourself harden slightly against your jeans, you had to remain professional.

Gaeul climbed in elegantly as she made contact with the soapy water, body disappearing under the surface. A thin sigh left her lips as the warmth made contact with her skin, she settled her back against the tub. "Get to work, my servant." She repeated the familiar nickname, which seemed to flow off the tongue.

You grabbed her loofah off the shelf, composing yourself as you poured body wash onto it. A nice smelling concoction of vanilla and strawberry, rubbing it into Gaeul's tender skin. She smiled as you washed her shoulders, the air thickened further with tension as you went lower. Rubbing her breasts with a soapy lather. the water acted as a barrier, making it hard to continue your job.

"Gaeul, I can't go any further with the water yknow?" You queried, she thought for a second. Giving you a cock of her brow, "Well then, servant. Take your clothes off and get in, it'll be easier. And call me miss, you are working."

You panicked as Gaeul stared at you, waiting for some action. "Hurry up servant" She rushed, you complied. Ripping your clothes off, Gaeul paid a similar lack of respect to privacy. Staring at your most sensitive area, licking her lips as you approached the water. Lowering yourself in as it felt nice. The water unremarkable compared to the woman in front.

"Miss." The name felt natural on your tongue, "Let me continue." You continued to clean her, she gasped as you went beneath the water. Ineffective but she seemed unwilling to move. You pressed the loofah against her crotch as you cleaned her final area. Moans leaked from her mouth, you couldn't tell if she was trying to mess with you. The sound hardened your dick, pressing against her soft sole, it rubbed back, stroking you through the water logged atmosphere.

Gaeul locked eyes with you. The tension coming to a final climax. "Get out, servant. I have another task for you."

-

Gaeul laid against her pillows, the two of you fully naked. Completely ignoring the water dripping into the fabric of the sheets. Legs laid over your shoulders, "What do you want me to do miss?" You teased, breathing hot air into her folds. She was soaking wet, both from water and her own arousal. Her clit begged for your attention, not waiting for her answer as you gave it what it craved.

You sucked on her nub, swirling your tongue as she moaned. Legs tightening around your head as an affirmation of skill, inhaling her scent, a mixture of juices, vanilla and strawberries. Your mouth kept working on her bundle of nerves.

"Fuck that's my good little servant." Her hands massaged your scalp, nails scratching as it burned in pain. Your fingers found her awaiting hole, pressing in slowly as Gaeul started to accelerate her moans. The high pitch screams assaulted your eardrums, your mouth catching some of her juices, coating your lips as you continued your dual assault. Your fingers pushing in and out, her walls gripping against them as you serviced her. Having no resistance as her smooth juices gave you an easy gateway into her. Her body chasing an impossible high, you pulled away from her clit. "Miss, you taste so good" You gasped, fighting for oxygen.

Gaeul said very little, too overwhelmed by your actions, laying there with her arms sprawled to her side. "Fuck! Fuck me my servant!" You pulled your fingers out of her greedy cunt, angling your rigid cock against her bottom lips.

Her velvet walls gripped down on your length, coating it in her wetness as she tried to milk you for all you are worth. She screamed as the bed shaked under your shared bout of passion. Your legs burned as they exerted as much strength you could muster. "Fuck, miss! Your pussy is so good!" Gasping desperately for air as you resumed. "I'm gonna breed this tight cunt! You want that right? Don't you miss?" Your thrusts grew stronger as your balls slapped against her asshole, dick pistoning in and out.

"Yeah! Fuck, breed me! Cum in me!" She begged as her body jolted against your thrusts.

"I'm going to give you exactly what your slutty hole wants! Fill it with my load, fuck that guy in the future! You are mine!" You growled, rubbing her clit roughly. Her thighs were shaking in orgasmic pleasure, Gaeul's pussy accepting you greedily.

"Fuck, servant! I'm going to cum! Cum with me!" She shouted, the words bringing you closer to the edge.

You only had a few thrusts left, "I'm gonna cum! Breed my mistresses tight, greedy cunt!" You breathed out. Ropes shooting into her awaiting womb, stuffing her with cum as she came undone.

Your softening dick withdrew from Gaeul's used pussy, leaking cum pooled onto the mattress as you impregnated her. A mixture of juices meeting, showing your combined pleasure.

"That was so good, my servant... You have to clean me up" You chuckled, she was barking orders even after she took your cum.

"Yes miss."

No matter what happens, you and her had a now unbreakable bond.

--------

speaking of what happens, part 2

[lilypucks]

me if i was a little slug

this thing!! has been bouncing around in my notebooks and stuff for so long i'm happy to have finally digitalized its design and explained it in a way i'm pretty happy with

notes on abilities and stuff r under the cut since i didn't manage to fit those in the actual image

the lilypuck is predictably semiaquatic, with a breath time slightly longer than rivulet's though she isn't as fast

spear damage is around the same as survivor's, also has a maul ability that deals a consistent .85 damage (very handy) (i'm glad mauling is a thing i like being able to bite things in rw)

skittish and not combat oriented, though it'll hold its own against threats if left with no choice or if that's the easier option

especially vulnerable to explosives and avoids those

the lilypuck on her head is indeed alive as if it were still rooted in water; alongside providing a slight glow it acts almost as a partial masks and has a chance to deflect spears that hit it (though it's a small area/pretty unlikely) and immediately falls off and closes up upon death (something like an elite scavenger mask + the behavior of lilypucks when picked up)

can canonically hear all region/threat music (like the vibe/memories associated with an area cause brain signals that register as musical? or smth it doesn't rlly hear the music Out Loud more like pulsing in the back of their mind)

wawa

[barbatusart]

so back when we were wrapping up SAD SACK i hid a cypher in the final page that when decoded would lead to a carrd site with a bunch of strange writings for a fictional religion + conlang stuff, unfortunately i hid it too good & nobody ever found it LOL & now that it's been over 5 years im honestly fine to just post it! below is a creation myth for the mots from uhhhhhhhh 2019, it was fun to try writing in real Ye Olde style. if you follow along with my other comic prelims ive posted, some of these names might look familiar!

disclaimer also, the fake religion in question is meant to be a misinterpretation of old extinct canaanite creeds where the folks who made it only had limited access to the already limited source materials + other writings from around the time period from different regions, so there is a Lot of cultural mishmash in here that i thought would reflect how people would actually mix and match the elements, similar to some modern day religions. just heads up!

1 The Earth began as Sea, Moon, and Stars. 2 The Sun emerged from the Moon, as through a window, and the Sun was in truth the LORD, come from a distant place in Heaven.

3 The LORD was weary and stopped to quench His thirst in the Sea, but the brine was sour and caused Him to be sick in the waters. 4 From His gorge and out of the Sea rose His organs, and They took shape and walked forth as his Brothers.

5 From the Sea rose the first Brother, clothed in robes of peridot, and at His left hip a crimson khopesh. 6 He looked upon the infinite Sea, and He breathed forth life unto the waters - fishes of every color, sprawling flora, and the people of the deep. 7 The LORD saw the wisdom of Heaven in his eyes, and the LORD called His name: BAAL KHASIS.

8 Then rose the second Brother, clothed in robes of emeralds, and in His left hand a crimson skinning blade. 9 He looked upon the people of the deep, and he breathed forth land, to split the Earth into above and below, as is Heaven and Earth. The Sea birthed clouds that crowned the lands, clouds that raged and spit cacophonous lightning and fresh sweet water, and the people of the deep migrated landwards. 10 The LORD saw the Earth's newborn storms in His eyes, and the LORD called His name: BAAL HADAD.

11 Then rose the third Brother, clothed in robes of golden topaz, and at His left eye a crimson maul. 12 He looked upon the land, and He breathed forth time - the sunrise and sunset, the seasons, the years, and old age. 13 The LORD saw the encroaching night in His eyes, and the LORD called His name: BAAL SHALIM.

14 Then rose the fourth brother, clothed in robes of pearls, and in His left mouth a crimson saw blade. 15 He looked upon the night, and He breathed forth coherence to the stars, the mighty constellations, the waxing and waning of the holy Moon, how it pulled the Sea's tides and bathed the shores. 16 The LORD saw the light of the Moon in His eyes, and the LORD called His name: BAAL YARIKH.

17 The LORD's Brothers produced for Him clothing of citrine to hide His nakedness. 18 And from His mouth the LORD poured the Sun's fire which He would fashion into any weapon of His choosing. 19 The LORD's brothers saw the infinite of all in His eyes, and They called His name: BAAL MUTH.

20 Then the five LORDS stepped into the Stars aside the Moon, above the lands and Sea, and They anointed themselves the LORDS of the Earth.

21 The Moon reflected BAAL MUTH's light and bathed the Earth's newborn land, and the LORDS' Shadows were formed on the land - weak, foul, and frail, each with one eye and half blind. 22 It angered the LORDS to see weakness in Their shapes, and They made war with their Shadows.

23 The first Shadow was Cacrinolas, a wicked man-faced wolfdog with the wings of an eagle. He opened his mouth and projected forth curses at the LORDS. 24 BAAL KHASIS's Brothers fell upon him in fury to tear the wings from his back. 25 With His burning khopesh, BAAL KHASIS beheaded Cacrinolas, and He cast the head into the Sea, 26 and He placed his wings into the Stars, so that they would become the celestial Nabu. But his grasp was not complete, and feathers of Cacrinolas fell loose and landed on the Moon.

27 The second Shadow was Forai, a vile beast with the head of a bull and innumerable hands. He opened his mouth and projected forth pleas for mercy so as to make the LORDS have pity. 28 But BAAL HADAD's Brothers fell upon him in turn to cut out his pleading tongue and take his hands from him. 29 With his burning skinning blade, BAAL HADAD removed Forai's genitals, and with his own hands Forai's heart, and He cast the genitals, the tongue, and the hands into the Sea, 30 and He placed his heart into the Stars, so that they would become the celestial Inanna. But unsteady were his hands, and the heart's blood fell and landed on the Moon.

31 The third Shadow Botis, a man-faced wayward serpent with a mouth of viper's fangs and a tail of rattling swords. He opened his mouth and projected forth poison from his fangs so as to make the LORDS sleep. 32 But BAAL SHALIM's Brothers fell upon him a moment before, to feed him his own poison and to take his fangs from his mouth. 33 With his burning maul, BAAL SHALIM broke Botis' skull in twain so that his brains ran free, and He cast the brains into the Sea, 34 and He placed his fangs into the Stars, so that they would become the celestial Ugarit. But His aim was not true, and one fang fell and landed on the Moon.

35 The fourth Shadow was Tuvres, a chimera with the body of both man and warhorse. So profane and so powerful was Tuvries that BAAL YARIKH's four Brothers could only restrain the beast and take from him his voice before he could speak, 36 so that BAAL YARIKH Himself could wield his burning saw blade and open his equine body to remove his entrails. 37 BAAL YARIKH beheaded Tuvres, and He cast the voice and the entrails into the Sea, 38 and He placed his head into the Stars, so that they would become the celestial Suen. But His grasp failed Him, and the head of Tuvres landed on the Moon.

39 So engulfed with wrath was BAAL MUTH, to see the holy Moon's light dimmed by such heavy handedness, such clumsiness, such carelessness. 40 So enraged was the LORD that his fire burned so hot as to burn even his Brothers. 41 So loud His roar, as though meant to crack the walls of Heaven itself. 42 The LORD BAAL MUTH opened His endless mouth, from where all things come and where all things return, where sound and light extinguish, where time folds inward, and He consumed His Brothers one by one.

[and-i-will-kiss]

This room, dark and uninviting, surrounded by candles and the smell of a freshly started fireplace, only give me the creeps. It's like a crypt or an early burial, I feel trapped but I can't show it - Sir Hans, hand on the pommel of his newly acquired longsword, is determined to get our missive delivered. Now it's not the time or place to be this fearful.

The high politics go over my head, but I have learned along the way: the two kings, the Lords of Bohemia, Sigismund's army, the bandits, the unbalance of power. The discussion looks and feels neutral, as negotiations should be, but I can't help but feel uneasy, so I just follow along what Hans Capon brings to the table. My liege is fully invested on it, I'm impressed, who would believe the loose bird from Rattay who checks in every early morning in the Rattay green pub would be this... elocuent. We both agree to join Von Bergrow's retinue in the chase of the scourge of the region, the bandits. The Lord of Trosky says every hand that can hold a weapon is needed, his soldiers being split between His Liege's army has been in detriment of his own territory, so they must act. With that condition we agree, we will give our help in exchange of negotiations with the Lords of Sasau.

We are done finally, or so I think. Finally dismissed from our meeting with the wounded Lord, and wearing proper clothing this time (which actually makes me feel like a squire for once), I'm free to roam, but not leave in any instance, Trosky castle. I'll make sure I'll walk at a leisurely pace this time, no need to run fearing for the neck of my liege. I mean, friend. Hans has regained his composure and looks just like he was on the saddle of Caballus on the way here, even before the ambush that almost ended our lives. But his temper is never gone, as I hear him chewing, no, mauling the castle's Chamberlain for his lack of... understanding. I don't interrupt, I refuse to do that, even if Hans is going beyond a reprimand this time. Destroy him, my friend, you need this; but deep inside I wish he wasn't like this, but on the other hand, no one would like to end up with a noose around their necks.

The Chamberlain scampered out of the chamber's portal and Hans finally relaxes, huffing audibly. I finally join him in the room, where we only exchange glances. My Lord hushedly expresses a need for fresh air, so I follow him outside. We reach the battlements overpasses that crown the inner bailey of the castle, were Hans leans on the railing and relaxes - while he sounds tired and slightly dark, he's Hans alright. His normal edge is back and I can feel that. He doesn't look like a pauper prince anymore, finally wearing something more recognizable to me, as he picked a too familiar, obnoxious golden purpoint, maybe a bit too out of place for a wartime meeting and then he decided to embellish it with a similarly bright gold and red cowl. At least I can walk around without losing sight of him.

Since both of us are locked in here, there's nothing I can do but stretch my limbs for a bit. I must say, Trosky is even more impressive from the inside! I still can't believe how tall both towers are! Two earthen fingers pointing to the golden blue this noon gave us. Even more impressive is the liveliness of the workers, there's so many of them, always moving, always busy bees. It's no town populace, but they are so active that could double any town in the immediate vicinity. Suddenly I'm caught up with all the happenings, I learn Thomas is on the mend and his sister is beyond relieved, that there's two kitchens and I should stop at both of them, particularly at Bertha's. She promised me some soup and freshly baked bread and I can't say no to a proper meal for once. While I'm finally breaking said bread, oh the steam coming out of it was fantastic, and passing it on the remainders of that sumptuous ox tail soup, Bertha goes around with this story about demons. Demons? Like, here in the castle? My mouth is filled with soup-soaked bread, so I can't verbalize more than a couple hums, but she seems so invested in it so I let her finish her tale. Then she tells me the Chamberlain, the man with more experience in the castle, he has lived most of his life here, could tell me more. Now she got my attention, seeing the Chamberlain believes more in demons than the word of a Lord, so I bow out (Bertha feels like a million Groschen after this) and go straight were I can find him.

The Chamberlain is deep on discussion with some of the servants of the castle. A banquet is being prepared to celebrate the campaign against the bandits. Lord Von Bergrow thinks it's the best way to rouse the Lords and Ladies of the land, a simple display of his power well anointed with expensive wine. Once the servant ladies disperse, I approach him. Maybe my face is easy to read (I have to work on that), but the Chamberlain quickly has my interest. The demons, he says, have been long time tenants and they need to be purged at times. And he's very pressed about the banquet and things going right this time, particularly after his impasse with Lord Capon, so he enlists me in this purge.

I make my rounds in the castle, and the servants sure have tales of underworld creatures incurring in tormenting guests, rousing from the firepits and other demon-ly mischief. Both cooks have different methods to put these creatures down, recipes to the same objective and who am I to argue with them, so I just mix both ideas up and just drench the firepits at midnight with the holy water mixture the Chamberlain provided for this task. Some other people, namely the cursed blacksmith, have other ideas for their demons, maybe the vapours emanating from the outhouses fed his imagination well and we end up having a punch-out on the smithy because he made a fool out of me. Hope he enjoys eating gravel, I'm sick of this demon nonsense. My cheek hurts, my head craves a soft pillow and Lord Capon requires my presence.

Sir Hans recounts his plan for the following events, the banquet and the next morning strike at Nebakov, place where the vipers are nesting. He requires of me to behave, to not touch a drop of liquor and prepare his kit. I try to make some space in my head by telling him about the demons that drift nightly in Trosky. He goes pale. Demons! I repeat. He twitches. I think he doesn't believe me, so I go for a third time. He begs me to stop, please Henry don't mention them again, they might appear right here and drag us to hell. Now I am amused, does Lord Capon fear these old wives' tales? As pale as he is now, this might be true! Demons, imps, goat hooves, horns, fire! Brimstone!

Lord Capon, eyes dark and all, shivers and understands. We have a laugh. Finally.

(I started my second playthrough yesterday and I must say survivor, low level Henry is so much fun to play. I'm doing this self imposed hardcore style playthrough now, without much quick travelling and such. It feels more like KCD1, just roaming the roads and the wilderness and finding stuff on the road. Now that I properly know how to fight and stealth knockouts, some things are easier. But not at the same time - low level Henry is crap, he gets tired after three swings of the sword, so everything needs to be very precise and unwasteful as possible)

[vague-humanoid]

The public can’t believe anything Virginia Prison officials tell them. Lies about dog attacks. In an August 1st, 2021, article about two lawsuits filed by Virginia prisoners who had been mauled by prison attack dogs, a spokesman for the Virginia Prison System was cited as saying, “K9 units are used solely for purposes of detecting drugs and other contraband, not for attacking or intimidating prisoners.” This quote came from the article by Keith Sanders titled, “Virginia Prison Guards Dogs Attacked Prisoners with Dogs,” from Prison Legal News, August 1, 2021. An outright lie.

In contradiction of this claim that dogs aren’t used to intimidate, Rick White, past warden of Virginia’s Notorious Red Onion State Prison, was quoted in a 2023 Insider Report on uses of dogs in US prisons, as stating that dogs are, in fact, used frequently in Virginia prisons for “presence,” or, “in other words, the implied violence of their growls and bared teeth is sufficient to frighten people into compliance.” So dogs are definitely used to terrorize Virginia prisoners. They’re also used, no less often, to attack them. In total contradiction of the denied use of dogs to attack Virginia prisoners, the same Insider Report, “…was able to document 271 dog attacks in Virginia State Prisons from 2017 to 2022 through court filings and incident reports.” This is from the Insider Report dated July 23rd, 2023, by Hannah Beckler titled, “Patrol dogs are terrorizing and mauling prisoners inside the United [States].”

Why is indeed would Virginia officials’ lie about using attack dogs? Well, exposing the practice has many implications, including the hidden history of widespread uses of dogs to hunt, terrorize, maul and kill Black people in slavery, including in Virginia. This practice was one of the main outbreaks that motivated the slavery abolitionist movement. The barbarian use of dogs to maul humans was recognized even then, prompting British officials who used dogs in this manner against slaves in Jamaica, to do exactly what Virginia officials are doing now. They lied. As one article noted, “Their public defense insisted that dogs primarily intimidated rather than attacked.” That quote came from the article by Tyler Perry titled, “Slave Hounds and Abolition,” from the publication Past and Present, number 246, February 2020.

Indeed, the practice was criminalized and punished by execution when the same slave hounds were used by the Confederates against White Union soldiers. It’s because this practice is inherently barbaric and was recognized to be so as far back as 200 years ago, during the era of slavery, and has a racist history which continues, that Virginia officials have lied about it, trying to hide it from the public. Which brings me to another campaign of lies projected by them to the public, a lying documentary.

This came with the airing of a December, 2016 HBO documentary titled, “Solitary Inside Red Onion State Prison,” which can be seen on YouTube. This documentary was used to whitewash the abuses within the prison and its image. The program has never been shown to Virginia prisoners, and with good reason. It was a cover up. Through considerable maneuvering, I was able to watch it however, and immediately recognized it as lying propaganda meant to clean up Red Onion’s sordid image.

The film began with two dogs, two guards, one Black, one White, escorting a handcuffed White prisoner to a solitary confinement cell. This was the first lie. I was confined at Red Onion for 14 years, from when it first opened in 1998 until 2012 and several times since then, up to present. The prison, which is located on a mountain in a rural region of the state, has never had more than three Black guards on the entire otherwise White staff, who come from segregated White communities that have no prior contact with urban Blacks. And its prisoner population has always been almost totally Black.

This racial dynamic has always been behind the prison’s notorious history of extreme racist abuses of its prisoners. This is the dynamic of history: These fabricated and opening images were meant to hide and continue throughout the documentary with the interviews of prisoners at Red Onion. Four were White, one was Black. Again, a dishonest representation of the actual demographic makeup of the prison’s population. One of the interviewed White prisoners, Dennis Webb, whom I’ve known for decades and am in the block with as I write this, revealed to me that he and others were given free television by Red Onion’s administrators for doing the interviews.

These commentaries are recorded by Prison Radio.

[postcard-from-the-past]

Street scene in Maule, Yveline region of France

French vintage postcard

[toelessbastard]

Toe,, you're a Link Clink enjoyer right,,,,

Where and how can I get into it 🥺

toya I'm gonna maul u rn the neurons u just ACTIVATED in my brain..... okay. I'll get my links to be clicked <3

To answer where-. On BiliBili, you can watch both the first season, and the miniseries, for free (the miniseries being in between stuff from s1 and I Believe s2, utilizing big chibis). You don't need an account to watch it either

I'd recommend watching s1 first bc it pulls you into the everyday business lives of our three protagonists and gives you a base understanding on what everyone's like. For me, the mystery and everyday banter were what I liked most (along w/ the time powers lol).

The minisodes can be watched as coping material , and include cute and fun scenes of our main trio.

For s2 i can DM you places to watch em' and pray they are avalible in your region sbfns 😭. I havent seen s2 on bilibili so I usually use a site for it, tho my usual one only has eng dub for s1 and 2. I'm sure I can find others though 🙏🏽 please note the everydayness is switched up REAL QUICK in s2 tho bc of the Bigger Mystery

🤔 they just came out with a prequel season, too, called the Yingdu arc. I've caught glimpses of it and I have a feeling that you'll love to see it after recovering from s2's ending bc they introduce and expand of a BUNCH of new amd old characters <3

There's also an audio drama, a manhwa(?), several little collabs and advertisments, and a musical (was a HUGE thing for the LC fandom... @sgdlr-asdfghjkl has SWARMS of masterposts ab it if your interested. I think you can watch the recordings w/ just s1 knowledge tbh) but I'd rec just watching s1 and 2 first to see if you vibe with link click in general.

As for the how? 🤷🏽 looking through the tags on social media and following LC artists and fans is my go-to. Some big ones I can list off the top of my head rn is @doublxpresso , @intothefrisson, @linkclickgallery (LC art curator), @rai-in-hell, and @wrathyforest

The biggest thing is to HAVE FUN and CRY LOTS!!!!

[we-are-knight]

The run of the mill sledgehammer is 8 pounds, give it take. How heavy were historical maces?

Single handed maces generally sat similarly to swords, being about 1.7kg (around 3 pounds), including the haft.

Mauls can go much higher, but generally sit around the same as greatswords, at 2.7 to 3.6kg.

The main issue is that due to the distribution of mass, maces and mauls tend to be shorter than swords to allow the user to swing them efficiently. In and of themselves, maces and mauls are not terribly heavy.

Exceptions do exist, however, and maces can be much heavier by far, depending on design, and region of origin. Indian gada can be extremely heavy, and used for weights in such cases, rather than weapons, but we should not discount them as examples.

[gallusrostromegalus]

What kind of wildlife is around in the Spirit World/Realm? The show had riding boars and river fish that I can remember, and if they grow things then the right kinds of little bees and gnats must be Around, but Just Those don't make for a full healthy environment, right?

We don't see a lot of animals in canon because animals are rarely a problem that shinigami have to deal with but some notes:

Thylacalines are not extinct in the spirit world! Actually, it's kind of a problem- Thylacalines will ONLY reincarnate as Thylacalines, and since there are none on earth, the entire peak population of them lives in the southern Rukongai. This is a problem unique to Thylacalines, as most extinct animals will reincarnate as other extant animals or humans or whatever, but nope. Not these assholes. Furthermore, killing a thylacaline in spirit world just makes it respawn elsewhere in the spirit world, as it was and with it's memory intact and those motherfuckers hold GRUDGES. They're also not native to any of the places the human souls in Soul society come from so nobody has a damn clue what they're doing here. Well, they know what they're doing- Mostly eating anything that will fit in their mouths and occasionally mauling people who don't respect their personal space- but why they're doing that HERE is unclear.

The Migratory Bird Act of Year 1066 was established shortly after the Seki-Seki stone wall and spirit barrier surrounding the Seireitei was established, and within the week, catastrophic numbers of birds died flying into the invisible barrier. The act was actually spearheaded by Yamamoto, who was immensely distraught by the unintentional carnage, and had to actually threaten the Central 46 with bodily harm to get them to legally change the Kido spell on the barrier to only block Sapient Souls and let the birds come and go as they please. It was a landmark legal case that established the soul society's remarkably robust environmental protections, and the Central 46's policy of isolation from the Shinigami, which would prove disastrously fatal to the organization almost 1,000 years later.

Many creatures we have on earth exist in Spirit world, but at massive Scale and varying degrees of intelligence. The Nago Boar was a wild boar of average porcine intelligence, but spectacular scale- 15 feet tall at the shoulder and many tons in weight. It was an infamous monster that made the Nago region borderline uninhabitable from it's rampages. It was one of the rare animals that became the problem for the Shinigami, who tried in vain to kill the beast for the better part of two centuries but unlike a Hollow who acts on instinct and has a very breakable mask, the boar was quite cunning and ended up with three zanpaktou lodged in it's cranium to no ill effect before the Gotei-13 decided to just pay the remaining farmers to leave in 1219. It was slain by a hired swordsman protecting a geological survey in 1308, and the battle was immortalized in the Epic Multi-scene Screen Painting "The Slaying of The Nago Boar" by Minami Zasso, who was working as a surveyor and illustrator when he witnessed the event firsthand. The swordsman in the painting is unnamed, but there is a persistent rumor that the distinctive facial scar of the unnamed swordsman matches that of Eleventh Division Captain Zaraki Kenpachi, but that would mean the man is at least 700, more likely over 1000 years old! Surely not!

The Eleventh Division has another peculiar association with an animal of ridiculous scale. In 1272, the annual "Ranking Day" tournament (in which the members of the 11th division and anyone bold enough to take part would battle for ranked positions in the division- including the right to be captain) took place outside the Seireitei in a relatively isolated area of the rukongai because 1271's Ranking Day had turned into an outright riot that destroyed part of the city. The commotion and blooshed attracted the attention of a supernaturally large Monitor Lizard, who joined the fray without hesitation, and devoured the 4th Kenpachi. Having met the requirements of "Defeat the standing captian in combat in front of 200 witnesses", and because nobody was brave enough to remove the captain's haori from where the lizard had become entangled in it, Tokagero Kenpachi was named the 5th captain of the 11th division. Tokagero Kenpachi remained captain of the 11th division for an astounding 234 years, the longest reign of any Kenpachi, and via highly suggestive hissing and occasionally eating people she disagreed with, lead several important reforms within the division like "Pants Required" and "No showing up to work drunk" and "instituting the first 5-day work week and successful labor strike in Soul Society" though that last one was mostly the work of her long-suffering lieutenant, but her apparent taste for strikebreakers certainly helped the cause. Tokagero Kenpachi was lost in the infamous Tonsure Riots of 1606 when she vanished down an open manhole cover and into the sewers. No body was ever recovered, and her wherabouts remain unknown to this day.