#i saw it as 'does a story REQUIRE themes'

[dullahandyke]

sidenote speaking of polls that infuriated me, that poll like 'does a story require themes to be good' was sent from hell to kill me

[boyfriendyke]

there r a lot of things about the myth of psyche and eros that makes me a little insane but one of them has always been the tasks from aphrodite and the unfairness of it. they're not intended to be possible. they're so obviously not meant to be possible, and psyche isn't fucking hercules, you know, she's not a demigod or whatever, she's mortal and these aren't mortal tasks!! it's why psyche has to be helped with each one, fucking by like ants and river gods and shit. and so like. idk. i know ppl see psyche and eros as like a story about love and shit which obviously it is but as a kid psyche and eros always felt like a story about being able to accept help

[aethon-recs]

Themed Rec List | Tomarrymort Recs by Horcrux ⚡👑🏆🔒💍

I wanted to put together a rec list of Harry/Tom fics with a core focus on horcruxes outside of Diary Tom (the most popular horcrux) and Voldemort himself. Please enjoy these 22 fics that feature one of Tom's horcruxes and their special relationship with Harry.

There’s a ton of interesting variation that can be explored within a Harry and horcrux Tom ship — from where the horcruxes are located and when Harry can conceivably meet them in canon (for example, the Cup horcrux is harder to access than the others); to what age they were made by Voldemort and how that would shape their personalities and interactions with Harry; to the different magical properties that they might embody, depending on the vessel that was chosen.

Finally, it looks like Scarcrux and Locket are the most popular choices (after Diary Tom), and we absolutely need more Cup horcrux fics!

*

⚡ Scarcrux

Amensalism by @cindle-writes (E, 6k, complete)

Scarcrux becomes sentient after the encounter in the Ministry in Harry's 5th year and takes Harry for an adventure.

Bolide by @vdoshu (T, 3k, complete)

On October 31, 1981, a tiny piece of soul attaches himself to Harry Potter in order to survive. This is his story.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 28k, complete)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings warp all Harry could have become until no more than dark magic and devotion remains. Visions of a wraith with red eyes complicate matters, especially when Harry and the Voice follow it to Hogwarts so Master can get his hands on the Philosopher’s stone.

Eulogy by @meles-merrivale (E, 6k, complete)

You run through the things you have to do for the day. It is, admittedly, a very short list. Wake up. Be clean. Be ready. An empty life, some might call it. You don’t. It is the life He has given you, and so it is what you deserve.

last rites by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)

Harry has an hour before he walks to his death in the Forbidden Forest. The horcrux in Harry’s scar decides to take matters into its own hands.

Look at me. by @crowcrowcrowthing (M, 1k, complete)

A dark night of the soul.

Pitch Black by @kagariasuha (E, 2k, complete)

The proximity of Horcruxes can influence anyone - especially Harry.

sandpaper kisses, paper cut bliss by @xodahafez (E, 27k, WIP)

Harry Potter survives the Killing Curse, but so does the horcrux within him. And this horcrux has been dangerously infatuated with Harry for seventeen years.

saw you in a dream by @duplicitywrites (E, 2k, complete)

Harry has had this dream before.

*

👑 Diadem

A peculiar way of fitting together by @being-luminous (T, 2k, complete)

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m wearing a diadem?”

Dance Me On and On by @duplicitywrites (E, 19k, complete)

In his first year at Hogwarts, Harry overhears Quirrell interrogating Binns about an artifact from over a thousand years ago. Five years later, Harry uncovers Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem in the Room of Requirement and finds himself pulled into a kingdom in the throes of a mysterious masquerade ball.

In Just a Moment, You’ll Be Mine by @dividawrites (E, 34k, WIP)

Tom has been stuck inside the Ravenclaw's Diadem for decades, alone, with nothing but his slowly fading memories. One day he feels a pull towards someone and gets interested. And then he gets obsessed.

Death is not an Escape by @whitepinkdandelions (T, 2k, complete)

The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw is full of endless wisdom, so it only makes sense that it gets its hooks into Harry much faster than the rest of them.

*

🏆 Cup

Thirst by @obsidianpen (E, 27k, complete)

Things go awry when the trio beaks into Gringotts. Harry finds himself trapped, locked in the Lestrange vault, wandless and alone... With a horcrux.

*

🔒 Locket

Arson by @rudehellion (M, 8k, complete)

The hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes is going poorly. In need of some space to think, Harry offers to take the first watch over camp and slips out into the snowy night. Unable to shake his dark thoughts, Harry finds himself drifting and he begins to dream. What he sees changes everything.

knock it off (part 1) / crave gets slaked (part 2) by @theonceandfuturequeenoftarts (E, 6k, complete)

At some point during Harry's time with the Dursleys, pain got crossed with affection. A kick from Dudley or having his arm yanked by Uncle Vernon at least means they’re acknowledging his existence. It’s not love, but it’s something. Too bad for Harry he carries that through to his less dysfunctional relationships.

The Cost by Blood_Stained_Fingers (M, 8k, complete)

The cost of making a horcrux was steep and when Voldemort manages to kill Harry, destroying the horcrux within, Harry finds out the exact price of losing a piece of your soul. It made a cruel joke that if Voldemort loved his horcruxes, Harry should love them too.

The Dead of Night by @cybrid (E, 6k, complete)

An empty house. A glint of gold. A dream. Or: running away from Privet Drive goes terribly for Harry.

The Ties That Bind by @mosiva (E, 8k, complete)

Harry finds the locket at Grimmauld Place, but it has a curse laid on it. When Harry triggers it, he finds himself trapped with the locket version of Tom Riddle, both of them stuck within the enchantment until they can find the way out. Or so Harry thinks.

Whole by Emriel (E, 20k, complete)

The horcrux hunt goes wrong and Harry fails to destroy the locket horcrux. Tom Riddle hands him over to the Dark Lord as a present for they know he holds part of their soul. In their care, Harry learns that feelings, no matter how toxic, are hard to get rid off.

*

💍 Ring

Personal Assistant by @phantomato (E, 10k, complete)

“And that’s it? I call ‘Tom’ and you show up?” “Yes,” Tom answers.

shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes, @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.

*

[therhythmafterthesummer]

In the Labyrinth (M) ~Changbin

Pairing: Minotaur!Changbin x AFAB.Reader Themes: Mythical AU | Angst | Smut | Fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: The Labyrinth was an enigma for most people. Its existence was known, but what exactly happened within it was a complete mystery. When you entered the Labyrinth, you weren’t really sure what you’d have to come face to face with… Not even in a million years would you have guessed just exactly what you’d find in here. Warnings: descriptors of the reader such as: having long hair · mentions of murder · mentions of assault · depictions of anxiety · violence (in many different forms) · Changbin is 300cm tall (feels like that warrants a warning) · graphic depictions of outercourse (smut warnings under the cut). - feel free to let me know if i missed any.

Author’s Note: shout out to the anon that sent this ask back in august and ingrained the mental image of minotaur!changbin in my brain. more notes at the end.

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

Smut Warnings: size kink · literal monster cock (he’s a giant… and a half-bull, half-man one at that…) · nipple play · mutual masturbation · non-penetrative sex.

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The sound of your footsteps bounced off of the walls. The corridors were more than spacious, well over twenty metres wide, with the ceiling probably twice as high, but even if it wasn’t crowded in here, it still made you a bit claustrophobic.

You supposed that the few holes in the ceiling did help ease that feeling a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.

Even if you weren’t particularly thrilled about being down here, you still walked, because there was simply nothing else to do.

You could’ve sat down and awaited your death exactly where you had landed when they threw you in here, but you were never one to remain still for too long. 

So, after having a good crying session, and after hours had passed since you’d been given your death sentence, you had finally stood up and started to walk.

You knew what this place was, although you’d never really seen it. You hadn’t even known it was here in this exact area. 

The Labyrinth.

It was said that the place was humongous, practically never-ending, built by a king in ancient times as an offering to the Gods. Presumably, it’d ended up buried in the earth as time passed, and it stretched over kilometres and kilometres of land, but no one had really seen it and lived to tell the tale. At least, no one you knew of.

Law enforcement clearly knew the place, but you weren’t really sure if you could call them people. After all, they had never taken you seriously when you’d sought out their help. In a way, you felt like it was their fault you’d ended up here in the first place…

Although you’d heard of this place, you never really imagined it’d look like this inside. The brick walls were looking a bit worn down, but still structurally sound. They were lined with torches lit with eternal fire, just like the tales said. The floor would alternate between dirt, gravel, actual flooring, and mud. 

As you walked, you saw some ponds, some that even had fish inside. You figured that could be a potential way out, but you weren’t sure how deep you’d have to swim or if that’d be viable at all, so you scrapped the thought altogether. 

Sometimes, you’d see trees. Especially in those areas where there were holes on the ceiling. 

Some of those holes were partially blocked by metal rods, like law enforcement realised they were there and did the minimum required to keep a person or an animal from falling inside. Others were fully open, they varied in sizes, but they were honestly too high up for a person to reach them.

The trees, the mismatched flooring, and the occasional patch of grass weren’t that odd, though. They fit in well, and their presence made sense. What did feel out of place were the drawings on the walls. 

They weren’t on every wall, but there were so many of them it was hard not to notice they were there. Some looked like they’d been there for a long time, the colours were a bit washed out and some of the pigment had probably been absorbed by the brick overtime. Others looked like they could’ve been made a few weeks ago.

Birds, trees, deer, the sun, the moon… They were mostly nature themed, and, in any other context, you might’ve been inspired by the artistry. Even if they intrigued you, it was hard to appreciate them when you felt so hopeless, when you felt so… empty.

As soon as you had stopped crying earlier, you had accepted your fate–how long had it been since then? How long have you been walking for? Hours? How many? It was hard to tell down here… 

You realised just how much time had passed once you noticed another hole in the ceiling. You might’ve missed a few before, since it was clearly now well into the night and there was no light to highlight their presence. 

The faint stars you could see out of that hole made a knot form in your throat and tears well in your eyes. 

This was unfair.

You shouldn’t be the one in here. 

If anything, it should’ve been him.

If anyone had paid attention to you, it would’ve been him.

But instead, here you were.

You found a patch of grass under that hole you saw, so you just laid down and curled in on yourself and called it a night.

As the tears started to fall again, you reminded yourself that you had accepted your fate.

There was no going back now.

It was hard to tell how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth for. 

The first couple of days, you kept count diligently, but at some point you realised it was absolutely pointless. Why would you even want to know that information, if you weren’t going to be able to leave?

You were on your own here. 

You’d seen items that clearly belonged to someone at some point scattered around the many corridors of the Labyrinth, but you hadn’t seen a single soul. Only the fish you’d caught from the occasional pond you found that helped keep your stomach full, or the odd magpie that would come from one of the ceiling’s holes and jump around for a bit before taking off and leaving you alone once again.

You were on your own here… That was, as long as the stories weren’t true.

At first, you thought that the death sentence meant you’d be locked here to starve to death, but that logic started to crumble when you saw just how many sources of sustenance were available. Fresh water, fruit, fish, birds–if one was skilled enough to be able to hunt one of those, or at least have the will to…

You wondered if law enforcement knew this place was like this… Whether they knew or not, you figured it probably didn’t matter. The longer you spent here, the more it made sense to you that the stories were true.

It was said that a beast lived inside the Labyrinth. 

A beast that would make the strongest, bravest man cower in fear.

Some people said it had multiple sets of arms, or that it was as big as the royal library building, bigger than any temple anyone had seen. Others said it was such a deformed being that just the sight of it would kill you, and if that didn’t, it would make sure to do so by eating its victims piece by piece.

You knew these were nothing but stories to garner attention, for people to cause unnecessary chaos just because they could. If these people had actually seen this alleged beast, you supposed they wouldn’t even be alive to share their experience with the world.

You had never believed such a thing existed, but as nights and days went by, there was a small–and very scared–part of you that believed it might be true. Maybe this beast was very real, and was roaming the corridors of the Labyrinth.

Even if you’d been lucky to have found a few ponds that were large enough for you to bathe in, you still had pretty much only what you’d been wearing since you were thrown in here. You had used those ponds to wash your peplos a few times, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t even in good shape to begin with, and rinsing it in water seemed to hardly help its condition.

Your feet ached, your sandals were certainly not meant to be used to walk these distances, and the feeling of your dirty garments, combined with the lack of human contact, were steadily driving you crazy with every day that passed. Maybe this was the punishment. To be driven to insanity by what would usually be a minor inconvenience, by the amount of nothing that was happening around you.

The fact that you kept seeing his face in your dreams didn’t help it one bit.

Sometimes, you’d see it even when you were awake. You just needed to close your eyes, and you immediately got flashes of red and the feeling of pure hatred and anger… 

You always felt like washing your hands after, like jumping into any pond or puddle you could find. And whenever you could, you did.

Unfortunately, no amount of hand-washing and bathing would make the feeling go away.

You figured you’d have to learn to live with it.

As you furiously scrubbed your palms for the millionth time that day, you started to hear something.

Your movements stopped, but your hands remained submerged in the pond. It was usually quiet inside the Labyrinth, save for the few birds that’d sometimes fly and sing above you, or the occasional splashing fish inside the numerous bodies of water. 

But, right now, you could definitely hear something… Not only that, but you could feel something.

You could barely notice while you still had your hands under the water, but the rippling on the surface of it couldn’t have been made by you. Not when the little pebbles on the ground were shaking, too.

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

The sound seemed to be coming from the corridor on your right. It was growing closer, but your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t move. You were just kneeling there, looking at the flickering torches lining the walls, with your hands still inside the pond, completely paralysed.

It wasn’t until you saw the shadow of something popping from around the corner that you actually came to your senses.

You had to run.

And you had to run now.

You stood up from the ground faster than you could even blink. Taking the lower part of your peplos with tight, wet fists, you just started to run as fast as you could. 

You could practically feel your heart in your throat as anxiety started to kick in. You had convinced yourself that this beast didn’t exist, you had thought that since you hadn’t seen it in your time here, it must’ve not existed at all.

But the deep bellow that resonated within the corridor was proof enough that you had been severely mistaken.

It was so loud that the sound seemed to penetrate into your skin and rattle your bones from deep within. A ringing broke free in your ears, accompanying your agitated heartbeat.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 

The whole ground shook with each heavy step the beast took, so much so, you tripped and fell into a path of rough gravel, ripping your clothing and scraping your knees in the process.

You couldn’t stop, though. There was no pain, no moment to think twice, you just stood up and kept running. You ran and ran and ran, turning the many corners of the Labyrinth as you went… 

There was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was useless, but you didn’t want to hear it. You refused to hear it.

At least, until you turned and found yourself in a dead end. 

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 

Whatever it was, it drew closer and closer, shaking the ceiling and the walls as it tried to catch up with you.

Maybe you could still escape it somehow. Maybe, you’d be able to run past it and lose it in the many corridors of the Labyrinth.

When you turned around, you realised just how foolish that thought had been.

The air escaped your lungs when your back hit the wall. Your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you could feel pressure on your sides from where you were being held against the wall.

Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen, you could barely make out the shape in front of you. Horns, fur, and… and a face.

You’d accepted your fate…

Or so you had thought.

“Please…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not only due to how breathless you were after running for so long and after being pushed so forcibly against the wall, but also because the knot in your throat was just too big. “Don’t–Don’t hurt me”.

The first tear fell down your cheek, and many more followed soon after. You couldn’t see properly. Whatever was in front of you, was big enough to shield all light from hitting whichever parts you could’ve potentially seen.

The creature huffed, and you closed your eyes tightly as its face moved closer to yours.

Its breath was warm against your face. You almost flinched, expecting the smell of rotten flesh to envelop you, but, instead, all you could smell was laurel.

You could feel yourself tremble in its hold as sobs kept escaping your throat. The creature sniffed you, first your face, then your neck. It got so close in its exploration that you could feel the tip of a textured, moist nose against your skin. You braced yourself for what was to come. You were sure it was getting ready to eat you whole, hopefully in one single chomp, so you wouldn’t have to suffer too much…

The thing pulled away from your neck, and just when you thought it was going to go for it, you were moving. 

It was so unexpected you barely registered it.

One second you were pressed against the bricks, and the next your stomach was pressing against firm muscle, and your arms were dangling over the creature’s back. Almost like it… like it had thrown you over its shoulder. And, after a few seconds of shock, you realised it had.

The beast had a strong hold on your back as it started to walk, presumably taking you somewhere.

You tried to blink the remaining tears away, at least enough so you could properly see something, anything.

You caught sight of the ground. You were definitely moving, and, for a moment, you thought you were imagining things. 

You could see smooth skin, you could feel it against your arms and hands whenever they hit it as they moved with each of the creature’s steps. Its back was very human-like… However, that smooth skin transitioned into dark fur towards the lower part of its body.

The tail of the creature swishing from side to side was the last thing you saw before you lost grasp of your surroundings.

Warmth.

You felt warm, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like… a cosy feeling.

There was soft fabric under your hands, you could feel it dragging against your skin as your consciousness woke up.

Laurel… The smell of it filled your senses with that first intake of breath. 

Laurel… like the beast’s breath.

Your eyes snapped open. They immediately landed on the patch of night sky that could be seen from the hole in the ceiling, right on top of you. You blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the twinkling stars above you. 

Faint chewing sounds brought you back into the room, they made you remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. With quick movements, you sat up, and your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes locked onto the beast sitting a few metres in front of you.

Its eyes bore into yours as it chewed leisurely, on what you assumed to be a deer leg based on the shape of it. It didn’t make any movements, nor did it make any sounds–other than the occasional grunt when the meat was too stuck to the bone.

You were, quite honestly, speechless.

You had heard of the beast, but none of the descriptions truly matched what you were seeing right now.

A big, big creature. Inhumanly tall. Its torso was that of a man. Well defined, smooth, tanned skin, strong–very strong…–pecs, nipples adorned with silver jewellery, even stronger looking arms, and, although bigger than you had ever seen them, very human-looking hands. 

That torso transitioned into bovine-like lower limbs–covered in thick, dark fur, strong thighs and calves, ending in hooves. But, most impactful, was its head. Human-looking as well, save for the pair of horns that protruded from its skull and a cattle-like nose. The horns were decorated with thick silver rings that glistened with the very few torches lit around the room.

Its face, though… Chubby cheeks, pouty lips, and a strong, but bull-looking nose, pierced with a thick silver hoop. Objectively, the face of a handsome man, all things considered…

You had truly never, ever seen anything like it.

The way it was looking at you felt purposeful, like it wasn’t doing it just for the sake of it, but more like it was aware of your presence in a conscious, coherent way. It wasn’t just the way an animal would look at another animal, more like a human would look at another human.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of your body. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your arms… you were sore all over. When you finally broke eye contact with the creature–man…?–in front of you, and looked at yourself instead, you were perplexed at the sight of your bandaged knees.

Your eyes snapped back up to meet the beast’s, who was eating the last few pieces of meat off the bone in his hand, but still looking at you. 

“Did you…” Your voice broke due to your sore throat. You cleared it before you tried to speak again. “Did you do this?”

You gestured to the bandages, and it nodded to your question.

The beast understood you. It understood you and was able to answer the question.

“…Why?”

It seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, suckling on the bone to leave it completely clean before it threw it on a pile of bones in a corner of the room. Ultimately it simply shrugged, rendering you speechless once again.

The beast stood up from the ground, and walked towards another corner of the room, where a pond was. It knelt on the edge of it, and dipped its hands into the water. After scooping some water into its palms, it brought them close to his face and drank from them. 

Was it… washing its hands? And its mouth?

You realised it was, in fact, washing its mouth when it–he…?–finally stood up and walked over to some trees, where he plucked some leaves to eat them–or, more accurately, to chew on them.

“What… What are you?” You couldn’t help the question from leaving your mouth. What you were seeing right now was so absurd you just needed to ask.

He shrugged once again, chewing leisurely as it finally started walking closer to you. 

You honestly didn’t even try to move away, you were too in awe of his entire existence for your body to properly send you into fight or flight response. 

He was so… big. Even when he finally crouched in front of the pile of fabric you’d been laying on, he just looked huge.

“Changbin”, he said all of a sudden.

Your jaw went slack for a moment. He could speak.

“Ch–Changbin?”

He nodded. “That’s what… my father calls me”.

Changbin spoke slowly, like he wasn’t used to speaking at all. You supposed it made sense, considering the stories surrounding the beast inside the Labyrinth.

But… father, he said? “You… you have a father?”

He nodded again, but didn’t say anything else. Changbin just looked at you, in complete silence.

You’d admit it was a bit… awkward.

“Do you… Is this what you do with the people that are thrown into the Labyrinth?”

Changbin shook his head, which further puzzled you.

“I usually kill them. Sometimes I eat them if there’s nothing else to eat… Other times, just use them as food for the plants and birds that live here”, he said simply, like it was nothing. You supposed to him it was nothing.

“Why haven’t you killed me?” You had to ask, because you just couldn’t comprehend how you could still be alive.

His eyes jumped from one of yours to the other repeatedly for a bit. Until he eventually shrugged. “Don’t want to”.

You didn’t really feel like asking ‘Why?’ again, so you just cleared your throat, and decided to introduce yourself instead.

Changbin remained quiet for a few moments, until he repeated your name a few times out loud, like he was trying to get used to the sound. 

After about ten minutes of prying, Changbin explained to you that this was his den. It was at the very centre of the Labyrinth. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand, every twist and turn, every pond and every tree, he knew where absolutely everything was. Apparently, he’d lived here a long, long time.

You wanted to inquire more, but before you could, his ears perked up, and he looked towards the one and only exit of this area.

“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth”, he mumbled, almost to himself. He stood up from the floor, and wiped his hands on his fur before he started walking. When he reached the entrance, he turned back to look at you. “Stay here. Will be back in a couple of days”.

You didn’t really think you had any other choice.

Coexisting with Changbin was… weird.

It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was certainly weird. 

He clearly didn’t understand human behaviour much. As in, he’d do things people typically didn’t do.

He’d stare at you a lot–very intensely, if you might add–he spoke in short sentences, or was too forward with what he said. For the most part, though, you didn’t mind. Considering the type of men you were used to, Changbin was far from bad.

Was he a huge half-man, half-bull creature that ate humans sometimes?

Yes.

But even then, he was heaps better than other men you’d met.

He had offered his nest for you to sleep on. He’d shared with you any fish he caught, and even brought you fruit sometimes. For the most part, you didn’t leave his den, and he simply let you stay.

Being honest, part of the reason why you didn’t leave was because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. After all, he’d brought you in here himself. 

Whenever someone entered the Labyrinth, he’d always ask you to stay while he left to look for them. Upon his return, he’d also share whichever goods he’d retrieved.

“You want this?” Changbin offered you a lump of fabric. It almost looked like a napkin in his hands, but when you took it and had a good look at it, you realised it was a chiton. And a fairly new one at that.

Your peplos was way too worn by now. You weren’t really sure how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth at this point, but you also figured it really didn’t matter. You’d washed your clothes plenty of times during your time here, but the rips and tears were just too many already, so you accepted the fresh garment.

“Thank you”, you looked up at him, trying not to focus too much on the swell of his chest, or the trail of fur that started from his navel and continued downwards, turning into his bovine legs.

Changbin was, truly, a sight to behold. Roughly three metres of hunk… The longer you spent around him, the longer you just… wanted to look at him. 

You supposed you weren’t any different than him in that regard. At least, he didn’t seem bothered by it when you stared at him.

Changbin nodded, and made his way to his makeshift, newer nest. You felt a bit bad that you’d taken his much bigger sleeping space, but when you tried to get him to use it again, he simply told you ‘It’s your nest now’, so you just… kept using it to lay and sleep on.

“Washed it on my way here”, Changbin said once he was sitting on his nest, looking at you. Only then did you realise he’d not only brought the chiton with him, but also a bowl full of what looked like wildberries, and a guest.

The guest sat on the very top of his head, it was a bird. A fairly small one, but one that was clearly injured, if the way it weakly fluttered its wings was anything to go by.

You nodded, and repeated a soft ‘Thank you’. You honestly tried not to think too much about the person this piece of clothing belonged to just a few days ago. There was no point in that… It was yours now. 

When you brought your hand to the fabric belt around your waist, you untied the knot that kept your peplos in place. The garment loosened, but before you could remove it, you looked back at Changbin.

He was just… staring at you. Like he always did.

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat you felt spreading on your cheeks. “Could you, uhm…”

His ears perked up, listening intently to what you had to say. 

“Could you maybe look away?” 

Changbin blinked slowly, and his tail started swishing calmly behind him. “Why?”

“Because, y’know… I’m going to undress”, you replied simply, bringing the chiton closer to your chest. The heat on your face seemed to intensify.

“And?” 

You were slightly taken aback by that. But as you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than genuine curiosity in his eyes. “I’ll undress… That means I’ll be naked in front of you”.

“Okay”.

Now you started blinking slowly. Okay he said. Just… Okay. How… odd. “Changbin, I don’t want you to, uh… see”.

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why?”

“Because it’s not appropriate”.

“How come?” He placed the bowl on the ground and leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs in front of him. “I’m naked right now”.

Ah… You supposed he was naked.

You tried really hard not to move your eyes away from his face, especially considering the position he was in… You didn’t want your eyes to just wander to improper territories. After all, there seemed to be a lot to look at…

As you pushed aside the chaotic thoughts inside your head, his comment made you realise that maybe it wasn’t inappropriate to be naked. At least not here, not with Changbin.

You weren’t on the surface anymore. You weren’t bound to human customs anymore, not since the moment you’d been sentenced, and the more you thought of that, the more you started to understand. 

This was your safe place now. There was no judgement here, or, at least, you hadn’t felt any at all.

So you swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. With your eyes fixed on Changbin’s, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that took over your face as you undid your peplos. 

The garment fell to the floor, and only then did his eyes wander. He looked at you, with his head tilted to the side. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes twinkle under the light of the few flickering torches on the wall. ‘Don’t like to keep too many in here… Too bright’, Changbin had told you a few days ago, when you’d asked why there weren’t as many torches in his den as in the corridor walls, and his answer had just made sense to you.

You could almost feel his eyes tracing every curve of your body, and you tried to not focus on how that made you feel. Instead, you just threw the chiton on and quickly fastened it with the belt around your waist.

Changbin’s eyes were back on yours as you finished fixing your clothes, before you started to plait your hair.

“Are you cold?” He asked all of a sudden, just as you finished tying your hair.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not… not particularly?” 

“Why’d you wear that, then?”

“Wear what? This?” You gestured to the garment you’d just put on, and Changbin simply nodded to your question. You blinked blankly at him for a few moments before you answered him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be showing my body like that, y’know? It’s inappropriate. At least, on the surface it is. So we just… wear clothes”.

“That’s why humans wear clothes?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, and based on the way his eyes widened, you figured he was. “Thought y’all were just cold all the time”.

You couldn’t help but snort at that. You laughed. You laughed like you hadn’t laughed in weeks, almost madly even. 

This was all just so, so absurd. You’d been sentenced to death, and somehow, you’d ended up here, with a creature like Changbin. A sentient creature that thought humans wore clothes just because ‘they were cold all the time’.

“Why shouldn’t you show your body?” Changbin looked beyond confused, and somehow it made you laugh harder. “It’s… well, there. It’s you. Why hide it?”

Your laugh died down, and you wiped the few stray tears that had fallen from your eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t seem fazed by your fit of laughter other than looking mildly confused now, so you just composed yourself and answered him as honestly as you could. “It’s… a private thing…”

“Private?” Changbin asked, tilting his head cutely to the side. “So no one has seen you naked?”

You went quiet at that, and started fidgeting with the end of your belt. “Some people have… Y’know, my mum… My–my husband…”

The title left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you tried to ignore it. You didn’t like thinking about him. Whenever you did, you always tried to squash the mental image to the deepest recesses of your mind. It was just… a bit too much still.

“You’re married?” Changbin asked, curiously, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

“Not anymore”, you looked away from him, trying to ignore his peering eyes. You really didn’t feel like elaborating further, so you tried to divert the conversation by talking about literally anything else. The weather, the flowers that had started to bloom in his garden, the bird on top of his head…

Changbin didn’t really pry further, he just followed your chaotic rambling as best as he could, until he eventually started crushing the berries in his bowl and telling you about the bird.

Apparently, he’d found it yesterday when he was on his way back here, and had been trying to nurse it back into health since. While he told you the story, he kept crushing the wildberries in his bowl, and he’d occasionally bring his free hand up to the little critter. It simply pecked his fingertip a few times before it resumed grooming his hair. 

After a while, he stood up from his makeshift nest. With his bowl of crushed berries in hand, and the injured bird nestled on the crown of his head among his messy hair, Changbin made his way to a nearby wall. You just watched him curiously from where you were laying on his original nest.

Changbin dipped two of his fingers in the mixture of crushed berries, and then he just… drew a line on the wall.

Then another…

And another… 

He was silent for the most part, but low noises would occasionally resonate from his chest when the little bird on his head chirped. It was almost like they were having a conversation.

And you figured they were. Mostly because every couple of lines he made, he’d huff, and the bird would chirp in response. Changbin simply nodded–carefully, as to not let the bird fall with the movement–and kept on drawing.

You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just looking at him doing his thing, but it was genuinely fascinating. The way his tail would sway every once in a while, the way the muscles on his back flexed and relaxed as he moved all sorts of ways as he painted on the walls…

Eventually, his lines took the very distinct shape of a bird, one that mirrored the one on his head almost perfectly.

“Changbin?” You asked after a while. He hummed to let you know he was listening, so you continued. “Did you make all the other drawings throughout the Labyrinth?”

It seemed like a silly question to ask, because, who else would’ve done it, if not the beast doing one just now in front of you?

Changbin added the finishing touches to his drawing, then he turned to look at you. He offered the remnants of crushed berries in his bowl to the bird, just as he brought the two fingers he’d been using to his mouth so he could lick them clean.

You tried not to focus too much on the action by fixing your eyes on his. 

He pulled his digits out of his mouth with a slight sucking sound, and nodded. “I did”.

“Mmm… They’re pretty”, you said simply.

Because, to you, they were.

You found them odd when you first saw them, since they didn’t seem to fit the aura surrounding this place, but they were certainly pretty. And knowing they’d been made by him, just seemed to make them even prettier.

Changbin finally put the bowl down on one of the many tall–but flat–rocks scattered throughout the room, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks had reddened. “Thanks…”

You just offered him a smile, even if he wasn’t looking at you. 

A cold wind filtered through the hole in the ceiling, it had your teeth chattering and your whole body shivering. You tried to cover yourself further, but the way Changbin had built his nest made it so you really couldn’t pull fabric from it without messing it up, and there was no spare cloth close by that you could use as a blanket.

It made sense, you supposed. He didn’t seem like he needed anything to keep himself warm, and you also hadn’t needed it before during your stay here, so you hadn’t even tried to ask for one.

You heard faint shuffling, followed by quiet thump, thump, thumps, until you felt warmth close to you.

“Tiny human”, Changbin mumbled, pulling your attention fully towards him.

You hummed to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t open your eyes, nor did you feel like wasting energy saying actual words. You needed to use every bit of it you could to try to keep yourself warm.

“You’re whimpering. Why?”

Had you been whimpering?

You hadn’t even realised you were. Maybe you’d fallen asleep without noticing… 

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling form, but it only brought a rush of cold air inside your body. “M’cold…”

There was silence for a moment. With half lidded eyes, you could’ve sworn you were seeing your breath coming out of your mouth in little white clouds. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it agitated you a bit more, but you couldn’t even express it fully.

Changbin was quiet for a long while, but you could still feel him close. You appreciated it. It felt like moral support, at least. 

Eventually, you heard–and felt–him shuffle closer to the nest. “Can I… Can I keep you warm?”

You immediately nodded. You didn’t care what he did, or how he did it. You just needed to be warm, and if he could give you that you’d honestly take it.

There was more shuffling, and then there was a minute dip in the nest. You yelped when you felt Changbin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you into him from behind.

His hold was strong, firm, but also… gentle. He kept you close, with his chin resting on the top of your head and a hand pressed firmly against your stomach. He was so close, and so, so warm, you immediately felt yourself relaxing, moulding into his body, almost like… like you’d always been meant to.

Slowly, his warmth seeped into you, until you were no longer shivering. Tentatively, you placed a hand on top of the one he kept on your stomach. You could’ve sworn you felt him jump a bit behind you, but as soon as you started tracing his knuckles with your fingertips, he seemed to relax once again.

You weren’t really sure what compelled you to do it, you had just… felt like doing it. You spent a while just like that, feeling each knuckle of his fingers, feeling the prominent veins on the back of his hand. They were so big… especially compared to your own.

You’d never felt like a particularly small person, but next to him, you certainly looked tiny, you felt tiny. But only physically. Being honest, you’d never felt as equal to someone as you felt with Changbin.

“I think you’re pretty, too”, he mumbled all of a sudden, and for a moment, you felt your heart stop, only to resume its beating at record-breaking speeds. “Like my drawings, I mean…”

You turned in his hold, and immediately buried your face in his neck. Not only seeking the heat of his skin, but also trying to hide the flustered reaction on your face. He just held you closer, further enveloping you in his warmth. 

“Thank you…” You mumbled against the skin of his neck, and he simply offered you a tiny sound of content in response.

In the safety of Changbin’s arms, blanketed in his body heat, you finally fell asleep. 

You didn’t mind staying at Changbin’s den, but you were starting to get a bit… bored. 

Mostly if he was gone. When he was there, you could at least strike conversation, or play some sort of game. Knucklebones was a favourite of yours, for example.

When he wasn’t here, all you did was try to keep yourself entertained with whatever items Changbin had lying around, or by tending to the garden inside the den.

At some point, you’d managed to use some of the numerous pieces of fabric he’d collected to make yourself a proper blanket. Although, to be fair, you hardly ever needed it.

It was a given at this point that he’d snuggle up next to you to keep you warm. Since that very first night, you’d only had to use your blanket when someone had entered the Labyrinth and he wasn’t here.

You’d admit, sleeping with Changbin was… nice. Especially since temperatures seemed to be decreasing by the day.

He was all plush and warm and his heartbeat just helped you relax. Ever since you got married–since you were forced to get married…–you had never enjoyed sharing your sleeping space, but, with Changbin, it was different. You just… felt safe. As odd as that might sound.

“It’s not fair! You got it so much easier to pick those up!” Changbin huffed, clicking his tongue when you, once again, beat him at your game of knucklebones.

“Find bigger pieces, then!” You chuckled, jiggling the small set of bones in your hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of huge rocks you can get in here”.

He just clicked his tongue again, finishing in a cute pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. All that did was bring your attention to the swell of his pecs and the size of his arms, which immediately made you swallow. 

Dear Gods, was he big… 

You scrambled to fix your eyes on his face. These were thoughts you didn’t feel like entertaining… what would be the point of it if you did? What would you even do with someone like Changbin? It felt a bit too… complicated. But, there was a little voice in the deepest areas of your conscience begging you to entertain the thought… telling you that it’d surely be worth it.

You decided to ignore it.

“Hey, Changbin”, you tried to get his attention back on you, disregarding the plethora of sinful scenarios that were playing in the back of your mind. 

Changbin’s ears flickered before he was fixing his eyes on you again, so you took it as a sign to speak. “You think I could… go out for a walk?”

He uncrossed his arms so he could lean back on his hands, once again, making you absolutely struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on whatever was going on between his legs. “You want to?”

You just nodded in response, nervously tapping on the floor one of the bones you held in your hand.

“Then you can”, he replied simply.

“I can?” You didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but you supposed his nonchalance did take you by surprise.

“‘Course. If you want to, you can”.

“You don’t mind?”

Changbin blinked slowly at you for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I mind?”

“Dunno… I thought you… thought you might”.

“Why did you think that?”

Huh, good question… Why would you think that?

You supposed there was a part of you that had just kind of… assumed he’d mind. But you realised then that he’d never really said anything about it.

He’d only ever asked you to stay when someone else came into the Labyrinth, and you supposed it made sense he would if he cared for your safety. Which you were pretty sure he did, considering all he’d done for you so far… So you just offered him a smile and a slight shake of your head. 

“Ah, it’s nothing…” You stood up from the floor and wiped your hands on your chiton. “‘Suppose I’ll be back in a bit…”

Changbin just hummed to acknowledge you, but didn’t say anything else, so you made your way to the entrance of the room.

When you finally reached it, you stopped. As you looked at the corridor outside of the circle-shaped area that made Changbin’s den, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink. No matter where you looked, left or right, the way was seemingly endless. Every direction looked almost the same–save for the few paintings on the walls and the different textures on the floor.

If you left for a walk, would you be able to find your way back? You honestly weren’t too sure, and, truly… you wanted to come back. You were sure there was no better place to be inside the Labyrinth other than here, with Changbin.

So you turned around, finding the beast himself looking at you. 

His tail swayed calmly behind him, his ears occasionally flickered, but, for the most part, he looked serene, sitting there on the floor where he’d been just before you stood up yourself.

“Would you… uhm…” You pinched a piece of your chiton between your fingers, and started fidgeting with it, looking in his overall direction but not really looking at him. “Would you like to come with me?”

You finally looked at his face. There was a small smile on his lips, and it honestly made your heart flutter. “Y’know I’ll find you if you get lost, right?”

No.

No, you didn’t know that.

You didn’t know he’d go out of his way to find you if you disappeared. You knew that he cared about what happened to you to some degree, but enough to look for you if you got lost? Even if it could potentially take days?

If you thought about it, maybe that, too, made sense. Maybe he enjoyed your presence just as much as you did his.

Licking your lips, you let go of that bit of fabric you’d been rolling between your fingers. “Would you come with me anyway?”

With a huff, Changbin stood up from the ground. He wiped his hands on his thighs, just before he walked to stand next to you. That was a good enough answer for you.

So, you finally stepped out into the corridor, and Changbin followed soon after.

The farther you tried to look, the more anxiety seemed to pool in your stomach. If the Labyrinth had made you claustrophobic when you first stepped in it, right now, leaving Changbin’s den, you felt haunted with agoraphobia. 

The corridors were endless, the ceiling felt like it was way too high–unlikely, since it was pretty much the same height as it was inside the den…–and the fact that you couldn’t see the first turn in either direction you looked had your head spinning. So you turned back to Changbin.

“Is there any place you like? If there is, I’d like you to show me”.

Changbin just nodded, and started walking. You followed him from closely behind, nervously looking over your shoulder sometimes, but, for the most part, you tried to focus on the drawings on the walls, or the flashes of nature around you.

It was quiet, save for the flicker of the eternal fire and the thumps produced with each step Changbin took. They weren’t as loud as they’d been the first time you heard him, probably because he was walking very, very slowly.

Even if he was walking slowly, though, you were starting to get out of breath from trying to keep up with the steps his long legs could take. One of Chanbin’s steps could’ve very well been ten of yours…

You weren’t sure how many turns you took, you simply followed him wherever he would go, asking for a few pauses sometimes when you felt like you needed to catch your breath.

There were parts of the Labyrinth that were dimmer than others. As Changbin explained to you, it was either because someone had taken a torch off its support on the wall and never returned it, or he himself had moved the torches somewhere else.

When you asked him why he’d moved them, he just said he’d get bored, and just found some entertainment in moving things around. Fair enough, you guessed…

Both of you finally came to a full stop in front of a tree. A big, very old-looking one. There was a patch of grass all around it, and it was almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The hole above it surely provided enough light and water for the tree to thrive even down here. 

“This is a place I like. Birds come in here sometimes. They keep me company”, Changbin plopped down at the base of the tree and leaned on it. While he looked at you, he patted the grass in front of him, right between his legs.

Your body reacted before your mind could, and, almost instinctively, you found yourself sitting on the grass and snuggled against his chest. He just wrapped his arms around your frame and kept you close, like he often did. 

Soon enough, birds started coming in from the hole high above your heads, and you simply closed your eyes and started to hum a melody to accompany their chirping. You could certainly understand why he’d like being in a place like this, it was peaceful.

“You…” Changbin mumbled after a while, while he softly traced shapes on your arm with his thumb. “You used to pray, didn’t you?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, just before you pulled yourself away from his embrace to look him in the eyes. There was a bird perched on one of his horns already, picking at his hair, but he seemed unbothered by it.

“How’d you… How do you know that?” No one knew you prayed. In fact, you hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. It used to bring you comfort, maybe even hope, but that, too, had been crushed by the heavy weight of reality many moons ago.

Changbin looked up at the hole in the ceiling, which was covered by iron rods. His gaze was fixed on it for a while, and he remained quiet for a bit.

“I think I used to hear you pray”, his eyes were on yours again, and you suddenly felt your cheeks heating up at the attention. “You used to sing, too. Hum, like you did just now… The birds back then used to tell me you brought them food”.

The site you prayed at was incredibly far from where you’d been dropped into the Labyrinth. You knew this place was huge, but you honestly hadn’t realised just how much until this very moment.

“You stopped coming, though”, Changbin looked at you in a way that made you feel almost like he knew… “Was it because of him?”

Please! Don’t hurt me!

The memory was fresh, it wasn’t one you could just forget. Your husband… he wasn’t fond of the Gods, especially not the ones you prayed to. After all, you were praying in hopes they’d just… do something.

When law enforcement didn’t pay attention to you, you had turned to your faith for help.

But they, too, had failed you.

When your husband found out you’d been going to that specific place in the forest to pray, that you had your own humble shrine in there, he made absolutely sure you never returned. The place was now riddled with memories of nothing but pain, sorrow…

You felt a knot swell in your throat, out of fury more than anything else. You refused to let tears fall, though. The damage was done already, and even if you felt infuriated by how unjust everything that happened back then had been, the nightmare was over, and you had no one to thank but yourself for it.

Looking at Changbin, you nodded, just to let him know that it had been, in fact, because of him that you’d stopped going to pray to the forest currently above your heads.

“Even back then… I felt like it was unfair”, Changbin’s eyes jumped all over your face, while his thumb kept caressing the skin of your arm.

“It was”, you replied simply, looking up at him from where you were sitting between his legs. “But it’s no longer a problem. It’s stopped now”.

The bird that had been picking at Changbin’s hair finally flew away when he nodded. You looked him in the eyes for a while longer, until you finally leaned into him once again, and rested your head on his chest, right over his heart.

Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…

The gentle rhythm vibrated against your ear, and, right then and there, you knew that it had all truly stopped. You were safe. It was, definitely, no longer a problem. In a way, you’d made sure of that…

You both stayed under that tree for a long time that afternoon, until you asked Changbin to show you anywhere else he liked before you made it back to the den.

Without saying a word, he effortlessly picked you up from the ground, and took you in his arms, making you all flustered when he offered you a ‘Tiny legs. Makes you slow…’ which you supposed you couldn’t argue with. To him, your legs were surely tiny, especially when compared to his own.

When you were back at Changbin’s den, you were tired, so you quickly washed up before you had dinner. Seared fish–courtesy of the eternal fire from one of the torches–with an assortment of fruits that somehow worked together, finished off with the corresponding pile of laurel leaves Changbin liked to chew on often–a habit which you yourself had picked up overtime.

It wasn’t long until you found yourself in Changbin’s nest, surrounded by soft fabric and his warmth. Cuddling had become one of your favourite winding down activities, and you certainly liked to do it for as long as you could. There was something about the closeness to someone else that felt… fulfilling. And you’d never truly felt this close to someone in your life.

Oftentimes, while cuddling, you also found yourself having the most profound conversations with Changbin. Either you or him–or both–would start bearing their hearts out for the other, and it was… nice.

Regardless of what you spoke about, it was nice.

“You…” Changbin mumbled, burying his fingers in your hair to gently caress your scalp. “Why’d they drop you here?”

You took a deep breath, mindlessly playing with the thick fur in the middle of his chest. “I took someone’s life…”

Changbin hummed, nuzzling your forehead with his nose. It was moist against your skin, but you didn’t mind.

“My husband…” You started, stilling the movement of your fingers in his fur to instead lay your hand on his chest. “I was just… I tried to get help. Every time he hurt me, I tried to get help. So, so many times… but no one listened. One night, he was trying to force himself on me and I just… took one of those hideous stone busts he kept around the house and I… hit him in the head”.

The memory wasn’t pleasant. You still remembered the first moment of shock, when you stared at his limp body on the floor. You remembered the blood, how it started to pool and stain that equally hideous rug he’d purchased for way too much money. You remembered the mess left behind when you tried to move your husband’s body out of the house so you could hide it in the forest…

But you were caught.

You were caught and no matter how much you explained what had happened, no one believed you.

“So I was sentenced to die”, you looked away from his chest to look him in the eyes. They seemed to be sparkling under the moonlight shining on you both. His eyes… They were gentle, and had the prettiest shade of brown you’d ever seen. “I should be dead by now. They were expecting you to kill me”.

Changbin’s eyes flickered between yours. They danced around your face for a moment, until they settled on your mouth. “I couldn’t. Don’t want to, either”.

“I know”, you mumbled simply. Bringing a hand to his face, you started tracing his features, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheeks… Changbin just closed his eyes as soon as your fingertips were on his skin, and his ears flickered happily as you did. “You’re way more than the beast people make you out to be”.

“You think so?” He asked it in a way that made it seem like he genuinely cared about what you had to say, like your opinion was valuable to him.

You hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly, because you truly meant it. Changbin was a bit of a brute, he was very capable of harming you, but he was also capable of being so incredibly gentle. Like he’d been with the injured bird he’d brought to his den many months ago. Like he’d been with you when he tended to your wounds when he brought you in here, or when you were shivering from the cold…

“Changbin…” You broke the silence after a while, placing your hand on his cheek and stroking the skin with your thumb. “Do you know what a kiss is?”

Changbin opened his eyes then, offering you an almost shy nod of his head.

“Have you kissed anyone before?” You placed your free hand on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating so incredibly fast… It was almost like you could feel every thump penetrate into your palm and rattle your insides.

Changbin shook his head, fixing his eyes on your mouth once again.

You licked your lips, almost absentmindedly. He was so close, and so warm, and you just… wanted him. “Would you like to?”

Changbin nodded again, so you just went for it.

Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his for a moment before you connected them fully. It was almost shy, just a tender peck on his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.

You pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. Sparkly… Even more so than before. In an instant, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer against his body as he leaned in to kiss you again.

It was slow, gentle, and it made your heart flutter. His lips slotted so perfectly with yours, you couldn’t even believe you’d ever kissed anyone else. So many kisses wasted, when you could’ve been giving them to him instead…

Tentatively, your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. He seemed to get the hint, since he parted his lips to let you in. With your arms around his neck, you kissed him deeply. He kissed you deeply.

At this very moment, there was nothing else in the world that wasn’t you and Changbin. The only thing that mattered was him and you in his nest, slowly getting your mouths acquainted with one another.

You didn’t know how long you spent right there, but you also didn’t care. By the time the moon had moved around in the sky and left you in partial darkness in Changbin’s den, you could already feel him poking your stomach.

The feeling of him, hard against your belly, set your insides alight.

You’d known for a long time, you’d been trying to ignore it, but you couldn’t do that any longer… You really wanted Changbin. Carnally. Like you’d want any other person.

His hands… His big, warm hands roamed your back, your rear, your thighs… It was like he wanted to make sure no part of your body was left untouched–at least the ones he currently had access to over your clothes. The kiss was turning sloppier and sloppier by the second, and, in no time, low bellows were resonating from Changbin’s chest.

It was just when you carded your fingers through his hair that he stiffened, fixing his hands on your waist and gripping you tightly to stop the grind of your hips you hadn’t even realised you’d started doing. 

When had he laid on his back? When had you straddled his waist? You were so lost in your kiss you hadn’t even noticed…

He pulled back fully, offering you an apologetic look while he brought his thumb to your bottom lip and swiped it over the swollen skin.

“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth…” Changbin mumbled, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been so close.

You pouted sadly, but nodded in understanding. With one final peck on his lips, you finally rolled off of him and onto the plush nest, where you curled into yourself as you watched him get up.

Changbin bent down to kiss your forehead. He brushed his textured nose tenderly against yours for a moment, just before he threw your makeshift blanket over your body.

“I’ll be back in a few days. Hm?”

You simply nodded again, feeling your eyes growing heavier as sleep started to cling to your muscles. 

After one final smile, Changbin finally turned around and made his way out of his den. 

You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him before he left, and, Gods… You really, really wanted him…

As you let your hand find its way between your legs, and even in your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but fully come face to face with the realisation that you wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone else before.

With the tingles of pleasure you were coaxing from your centre that spread to all of your limbs, your mind wandered, trying to figure out just how you could… take him.

You had to find a way. You were determined to find a way.

You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you were certain you would.

Eventually, you would.

Changbin was taking longer than usual to come back from his last outing, and it was starting to worry you.

The first couple of days went by as usual. You washed any garments of clothing you’d collected over time, you tended to any of Changbin’s friends–meaning, the birds that would come from the surface–whenever they dropped by, or you simply spent it brainstorming all the possible ways in which you could pleasure such a monstrous cock.

Not only that, but how you could get pleasure from that monstrous cock. Because you were set on making the most of it. Gone were the days in which you shied away from your desires. You were a living being with needs, and if you couldn’t fulfil those needs with a literal giant half-bull, half-man creature, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else.

Besides, though, you didn’t want anyone else. 

And it wasn’t the fact that you were living in the Labyrinth and couldn’t even meet other human beings. What you felt for Changbin was something you’d never felt before. You genuinely cared about him… You cared a lot.

Which was why, by the fifth day he hadn’t returned to the den, you had bitten all ten of your nails almost to the flesh.

Where was he?

You were convinced it was pretty much impossible for him to get lost inside the Labyrinth, but what if he had?

Or worse…

What if whoever had been dropped in here hurt him?

What if he was hurt and you couldn’t help him?

Oh, Gods… 

What if he was dead?

Your chest felt heavy, you could barely breathe… What would you do without Changbin? You could definitely survive with all the resources you had here, but the question was… did you want to?

What was the point of staying alive inside the Labyrinth without him?

You wanted to cry just thinking about it. 

Tears were pricking your eyes, and it felt like your throat was closing up. 

At least, until…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

Thump…

You pretty much jumped from where you’d been sitting on the floor, sprinted out of the den and into the corridor. At this point, you could recognise Changbin’s heavy steps like your own heartbeat.

Looking left and right, you were unsure where exactly he was coming from, since the echo seemed to be coming from every direction. After a few moments of panic, you finally saw him to your left, so you ran.

You barely heard him saying your name when you were close, you were too focused on getting to him. When you buried your face in his stomach, he immediately started to caress your hair.

“Shh, hey…” He mumbled, dropping whatever he had in his free hand so he could press his palm on your back. “Don’t cry”.

You were sobbing, and you hadn’t even realised it until he had pointed it out.

When you pulled away, you could barely see him through your blurry vision. With one of his knuckles, he gently wiped the tears running down your cheeks.

It was only then that you noticed them, the cuts and gashes that littered his whole torso. The sight had adrenaline rushing into your body immediately.

“Oh, my dear Gods! What happened to you?!”

“Kid was resilient”, was all he said when he pulled himself away from your hold. He bent down–with seemingly great effort–and took the bag that he’d dropped on the ground. “C’mon, need to… to lay down. Will tell you everything after…”

You took the bag from him immediately, and wrapped your free hand around one of his fingers to gently tug him forward–as if that would do anything…

It took several minutes for both of you to reach the den once again. As soon as you were inside, Changbin pretty much collapsed on the ground, and started instructing you to bring him all sorts of herbs from his garden along with some fresh water.

You got to work, following Changbin’s directions to clean him up, apply the freshly chewed mix of leaves on the open wounds, and dress them with whichever extra pieces of fabric you could find laying around. As you did this, he told you about the young man that had entered the Labyrinth. 

Apparently, he was skilled enough to not only hurt Changbin, but also to essentially defeat him.

“All these years, no one has ever come this close to killing me…”

The concept of Changbin being killed made your heart ache, but you pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the task at hand, as well as to continue listening to him. 

The young man had spared him. He’d told Changbin that he’d come into the Labyrinth out of his own free will because he was looking for something. 

“Told him I’d help him find it if he let me live”, Changbin said once you’d finished dressing his wounds and he’d finally laid down on your nest.

“And? Did you?” You asked as you gathered two heavy jugs of fresh water to bring them to him. After all, two jugs were pretty much two glasses of water for him…

Changbin drank both jugs one after the other, each one in one gulp, offering a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he answered your question. “Yeah. Pointed him in the right direction, told him how to find the way to the spot he was looking for…”

You laid down next to him, and snuggled yourself as close as you could. Changbin pulled you even closer, and only then did he seem to fully relax, practically melting into your nest.

“He wanted me to go with him… But I was too hurt”, he mumbled against your hair, sounding just so incredibly tired. “Also… I had to come home. Needed to be here with you…”

You felt tears well in your eyes again. Holding him tight–being careful to not apply too much pressure on his wounds–you craned your neck, just so you could press a lingering kiss on his cheek.

Changbin exhaled a shaky breath with the motion, and, after pressing a few more pecks on his skin, you finally laid your head on his chest.

“Welcome home…” The words came out of your mouth as barely a whisper, mostly because you didn’t trust your voice right now. You were already feeling your whole body trembling as the tears started to fall again.

Changbin held you tight, pressing a final kiss on the crown of your head.

“Missed you, tiny human…” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he passed out.

Caring for an injured giant was easier than you had expected it to be. Although, you’d admit that helping him wash up was a bit hard.

Not because you had to provide any sort of support when he got into a pond or anything like that, but mostly because Changbin insisted that he needed you in there with him.

He got extra whiny about it, but you didn’t let him coax you into it. Not because you didn’t want to, but because, if you did get naked with him in the water, you knew you’d get distracted and his wounds could suffer the consequences.

After a few days, he seemed to have regained most of his strength, and the cuts scattered over his body were healing nicely. Even then, he kept insisting he needed you to help him.

“If you want to see me naked, just say so”, you couldn’t hold that back any longer. The words just flew past your lips, and you knew they’d had the desired effect as soon as you saw the pink tint on his cheeks.

“I don’t–I mean, I do, but it’s not–” He was tumbling over his words, and it was absolutely adorable. 

You stood up from where you’d been sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pond, and started toying with the belt of your chiton. He went quiet immediately, and his eyes zeroed in on the way you played with the fabric between your fingertips.

“Do you want to see me naked, Changbin?”

He blinked slowly for a moment, and his ears flickered cutely. “Maybe…”

“Maybe?” You untied the knot, and the garment immediately loosened.

You saw him swallow. His gaze remained fixed on your belt, like he was trying to somehow make it disappear completely. 

“Changbin?” You called him again, and his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, giving you his undivided attention. “Do you want to?”

Changbin stared at you for a moment before he nodded. That tiny movement, coupled with the light blush on his cheeks made you feel… empowered. Which was something you had never really felt before in this context.

You’d heard other people tell you about it, you’d read about it in the romance novels you used to read, but you had never truly experienced it. That feeling, coupled with how pliant a literal giant like Changbin got when you so much hinted at being naked, filled you with confidence.

So you removed your clothes, and slowly, you went into the pond.

Changbin was sitting on the ground, which made it so you were almost at eye level with him. You could practically feel his eyes all over your body, leaving an almost searing sensation on your skin. 

When you finally stood in front of him, his hands found your waist. Changbin pulled you closer, so your bodies could be flush to each other. With your arms around his neck, you leaned in for a kiss.

He held you tightly, but gently. You knew he was well aware of his strength, and you knew he liked to be careful so as to not hurt you, which you certainly appreciated.

When you pulled back from the kiss, Changbin brushed your nose against yours, making you giggle. As usual, it was moist, but you didn’t mind.

“You’re pretty”, he whispered the words against your shoulder, where he was pressing lingering kisses on your skin–being extra careful not to poke you with his horns.

“And you’re very handsome”, you replied simply, because it was the truth. Months ago, you hadn’t even known someone like him could exist, and here you were now, absolutely smitten by what most would consider an oddity.

“You think so?” He mumbled absentmindedly, dragging his hands all over your back. His large hands…

“Mm… I do think so”.

He pulled away so he could look at you. A smile had spread across his face, making his eyes turn into little crescents. It always made your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and it was certainly a contagious gesture.

Changbin kissed your cheek once, twice, thrice more, before he was speaking again. 

“Y’know… I haven’t… I’ve never…” He sighed, frowning before he shook his head and started all over again. “Want to make you feel good, but I don’t know how”.

Your eyes widened a bit. Not because you didn’t know that he wouldn’t know how to make you feel good, but because he seemed to genuinely care about it.

“I can show you”, you caressed his shoulders briefly before you cupped his cheeks. “Then you can show me how to make you feel good, hm?”

Changbin nodded, rather enthusiastically, and it made you smile.

“There are… many places you can touch to make me feel good”, you dragged your hands down his arms, until you reached his hands and pulled them away from your back. “For example, here…”

You brought his hands to your chest, and he reflexively squeezed the flesh. “That feels nice, but… touch here”.

Taking a hold of one of his fingers, you guided it to your nipple. The rough pad of his fingertip dragging over the sensitive skin immediately had a shiver running up and down your spine. 

He seemed to catch on very quickly, because the moment you let go of his hands, he immediately started to stimulate your chest. Between his motions and the cool water around you, your nipples stiffened further, and the first whimper came out of your mouth.

Changbin looked at you for a moment, like he was unsure if he had done something wrong, so you immediately reassured him.

“That’s good… Feels good”.

“Feels good?” He asked, adding a bit more pressure.

You nodded in confirmation, and then took a hold of his wrists. “Pinch them harder between your fingers”.

“Don’t wanna hurt you, though”, he sounded genuinely worried about it, which would’ve made you heart melt in other circumstances, but in these circumstances, you needed him to give you all he had–or, at least, all you could stand.

“Do it gradually, I’ll let you know ‘til when. Trust me?”

Changbin nodded, and immediately obliged. As soon as he reached the pressure that was just perfect, you let him know–in quite possibly the most desperate tone you’d ever mustered.

Your lips were on his thereafter. He tugged and pulled and stimulated your nipples in ways that had you moaning into his mouth, that seemed to be coaxing inhuman noises from deep within him.

Your centre was throbbing, desperate for some attention, so you pulled away from the kiss. You were met with Changbin’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks, a sight so incredibly delectable you started to seriously entertain the impossible. Would he fit…?

“Here, too”, you took a hold of one of his hands and brought it between your thighs, giving him enough space to manoeuvre. “You feel that bump?”

When the pad of his finger made contact with your clit you almost jolted in place, but you tried to stay focused as best as you could. 

“Rub in circles. Gently”.

He complied, following the same motions as before, increasing the speed and pressure until you told him exactly how you liked it to be. 

It all became a blur of moans and pants and bellows… All you could feel was the pleasure coursing through your body and Changbin’s warmth all around you. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, his fingers… He was working you up diligently, bringing you closer to the edge.

“So good…” You whimpered against his lips, just before your tongues were intertwined again.

Changbin nodded, almost mindlessly. 

When you’d finally reached your climax, you did so with his name on your tongue. Repeating it over and over again like it was the only word you knew in this world.

You’d found pleasure on your own many, many times, but it’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your feelings for him, or if it’d been the thrill of having this experience with Changbin for the first time, but the way that orgasm seemed to be consuming every single one of your senses was absolutely mind-blowing.

He didn’t stop working you up until you asked him to. As soon as he did, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him for support. Changbin held you tightly, lovingly caressing your back and pressing kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.

“Prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard…” He mumbled against your skin, and it made you laugh.

You felt light, like tonnes had just been lifted off of your shoulders. When you pulled away, you cupped his cheeks, and started peppering kisses all over his face, which made him giggle. So adorably you felt your heart swell in your chest.

“Now…” With one final kiss on his lips, you placed your hands on his chest, squishing the soft muscle. “You show me”.

A smirk made its way onto his lips, and after taking one of your hands, he moved it away from his chest to let it sink further underwater, until it met the warm, smooth skin of his length. He left your other hand on his chest, but instead of just letting it rest there, he guided your fingers to one of his nipples so you could gently rub your fingertip against it and play with the jewellery.

“I’ll show you”, he emphasised his words by using his hand to coax your hold around his cock to tighten. Your fingers didn’t even meet as you held him, and the thought, along with the feel, made you feel dizzy with arousal. “Will show you anything. Everything…”

‘You think this could… fit you?’ Changbin had shyly asked you a couple of weeks ago, when he offered you one of the silver hoops he usually wore on one of his horns. Where he got the idea to do that was beyond you, but it honestly didn’t matter, it made you giddy all the same.

It did fit–as an armlet, at least. It was purely material and maybe even a bit vain, but having this item on you at all times simply made you feel tingly. It made your heart swell in your chest and it had butterflies fluttering in your belly.

It felt significant, in a way. Kind of like… like your own version of a wedding band.

In the past, you had never been excited about being a bride, or about being someone’s wife. But you realised things could change. 

Changbin had certainly changed you. You would’ve never imagined that your death sentence would be the thing to actually help you feel alive, and yet, that was exactly what had happened to you. 

Did you sometimes have bouts of fury and rage because of how unfair everything that you’d gone through had been?

Yes.

Did you want all those officials to die a very painful death for judging you the way they did?

Also yes.

But at least, here, you found your place. You found love.

Because you loved Changbin. Horns and tail and hooves and all. Even with his annoyingly big cock that you knew you’d never be able to fit inside you without tearing you in half, even then, you loved him. Truly. 

It took only a visit from that young man he had encountered months ago for you to fully realise it.

He’d appeared out of nowhere, on a random day. Changbin had put himself between you and the young man, but the boy wasn’t a real threat, he’d come just to ask for help to find something else within the Labyrinth.

It was over supper that he’d talked to you, right there in front of Changbin. 

‘Don’t you want to go back to the surface? I know a way out…’

You could still remember how Changbin’s tail started to thrash anxiously behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He’d just fixed his eyes on the floor, slowly chewing his food. He didn’t interrupt or even attempt to divert the conversation. Back then, at least to you, it felt like he was getting ready to accept whichever decision you took.

‘Why would I go back? This is my home. There’s nothing up there for me’.

And when you’d said it, you truly meant it.

This was your home… but it wasn’t the Labyrinth.

It was all Changbin.

You’d wandered the Labyrinth together for a few days after that, helping that young man look for the mysterious artefact he needed. It’d been an adventure for sure…

When you were back in your cosy den after that little adventure, Changbin had given you the thick hoop, your armlet. You’d gotten so used to wearing it, you sometimes forgot you had it on.

At least, until you caught a glimpse of it in your peripheral vision, like you did just now. Somehow, the reminder of its existence further fed the fire that was burning bright in the pit of your stomach. 

The feel of Changbin’s hands on your hips, gripping you tightly–as tight as he knew your body could handle–made you moan. The feel of him, hard and warm against your folds had your mind all fogged up and hazy, especially when he was under you like this, guiding the movement of your hips to increase the pressure of your centre grinding against his bare length, trapping it between your core and his abdomen.

“Mmm… fuck…” He whined under his breath, staring at the place your bodies connected, at the way your slick cunt dragged against his cock.

You nodded in agreement, rather eagerly, because you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when the way you were essentially humping him felt this incredibly good.

With your hands on his chest, both for support and so you could play with his nipples in just the way he loved so much, you chased that sweet, sweet relief that’d been steadily growing closer to you since you sat on him however long ago. The pressure on your clit was just absolutely perfect like this, especially when he was pushing you down and assisting your own movement.

“Changbin, darling, I’m… fuck, want to…” You could barely speak, but you knew he understood you perfectly, because he had you moving faster, he pushed you down harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Before you knew it, you were trembling with your release. The only thing keeping you from collapsing was Changbin’s tight hold, but you still tried your best to keep moving, to keep providing him with as much pleasure as you could.

With a broken plea of your name, the first of many shots of thick cum spouted from the tip of his cock. The results of his orgasm’s were, of course, proportional to his size. He always seemed to produce bucket-loads of cum whenever he came, drenching his whole torso, and you in the process.

Changbin looked so, so pretty like this. Flushed, whining, bellowing, desperately rutting into you to make the most out of his release. You didn’t care that you were close to the point of oversensitivity, you just wanted to continue seeing him like this for as long as it lasted.

When the final spurt of cum landed on his abdomen, the tight grip he had on your hips loosened. The lack of his support made it so that you simply collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. 

Oh, how fulfilling it was to hear his increased heartbeat against your ear, to feel his warm cum sticking to you…

You both laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of one another and catching your breaths. 

Changbin had to act a bit quickly after coming, though. Otherwise his cock would retreat into its sheath covered in his drying cum, which could not only become a gross mess, but also cause him real, painful problems the next time he got hard.

So as soon as he regained his strength, he was moving, carrying you in his arms and getting you both inside the nearest pond to get cleaned up. 

You always helped him, of course. Just like he helped you.

Getting to bathe each other felt intimate, like a bonding experience, so you enjoyed it. 

You barely spoke to each other during these moments. You just took the time to further enjoy the other’s body in a more profound way. 

It wasn’t until you were out of that pond, dry, in a fresh set of clothes, and huddled together in your cosy nest that he was finally speaking again.

“I really like it when we do it like that…” He mumbled against your hair, softly dragging his fingertips on your back.

You chuckled softly, pressing a soft peck on his collarbone. “Is it better than when you fuck my thighs?”

Changbin inhaled sharply, placing his free hand on your bum. “It’s different. It’s easier to come together this way”. 

You hummed, smiling in amusement at the comment. 

There was silence for a while, but you knew he was awake. If he hadn’t been, the soft caresses on your back would’ve stopped already.

The armlet shone in your peripheral vision, and you were reminded once again that this was your home. That you belonged here.

“Changbin?”

He hummed to let you know he was listening, not stopping the movement of his hands.

“Why didn’t you kill me when you found me wandering the Labyrinth?”

Changbin was quiet for a while, until he nuzzled your hair before he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“I recognised your voice”, he replied simply. “You fed my friends. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. They always appreciated it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate it, too”.

You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. “Can you imagine if I’d never spoken in the forest? Or if I never fed the birds? You would’ve eaten me”.

He frowned. “Don’t wanna think about that. Besides, you did do it. Why think about the past like that?”

You smiled at him, just before you pressed a quick peck on his lips.

As you buried your face further in the crook of his neck, and started to feel the pull of sleep on your body, you figured Changbin was right.

There was no point in thinking about the past. No point in dwelling on the what-ifs. The only thing that mattered was the present, and the future you hoped to have with him here, in your home.

Author’s Note x2: i came into this expecting this story to be nothing but filth and a horny mess, not... whatever this ended up being. it definitely didn’t go the way i thought it was going to go when i had originally read that ask, but, y’know… the little lizard in my brain just does whatever it wants. i’m happy with it, and, if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed it, too.  especial thanks to @notastraykid and @channieskies for reading this before anyone else and for giving me their valuable opinions and suggestions.

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General Masterlist

[thelordofhats]

Dullahan as Heathcliff’s EGO

There’s two parts to this post, more or less: the first is the in-setting evidence that this could be the case. Honestly, this is the less interesting part of this to me, but I think it’s important to lay out why I think it’s possible. The second is about what this tells us about Heathcliff as a character.

There’s Canto 6 spoilers, obviously, but this is also just going to be long enough that it’s just polite to insert a cut, so here we go.

Supporting Evidence

First up, we have seen, both with Philip in LoR and Dongrang in Canto 4 of Limbus Company, that the EGO a person manifests and what they look like as a Distortion are connected—they’re going to use the same visual language. The Crying Children still has the fire and statue theming of Philips unnamed incomplete EGO, and when Dongrang manages to undistort, Farmwatch has the same hat, horns, and, well, farm imagery that his distorted form had, just not as a weird monster this time.

Wild Hunt Heathcliff is not the exact same as Erlking Heathcliff. Besides the obvious fact that he’s waging his war on Wuthering Heights instead of Himself as a Concept, you have visual differences like the eyepatch, Wild Hunt having an Iron Maiden instead of a coffin, and most importantly, a different mount. Where Erlking’s Dullahan is a straight-up headless horse (I say, as though that is a normal thing), Wild Hunt’s Dullahan is, as best as we can tell without the head, some sort of wolf creature—clawed feet, a different tail, that sort of thing. Which is, as you’ve probably already guessed, reminiscent of Distorted Heathcliff. And I don’t think that that’s a change that Project Moon made for no reason.

The other big piece of supporting evidence is in Wild Hunt Heathcliff’s UT3 story (well, stories), in which he reflects a bit on the whole “commanding the dead” thing he’s got going on now. Specifically, the fact that it just sort of happened. He didn’t schedule an appointment with Dead Corp to get hooked up with their sweet necromancy tech, it was just a thing that he became able to do. Now, we *could* say this is some wholly unexplained thing, but come on. This is Project Moon. They do not toss out massive no-reason plot holes at us. Of the framework we’ve been given, EGO is the most logical explanation for how this happened. Especially when you consider how it lives up for him ~*~thematically~*~

(Oh, but before I move on to that—Bodysack, like all of the Base EGOs, is manifested with the help of Mephistopheles. I don’t think we should necessarily think of it as being in the same progression, although it does fit with the coffin/iron maiden)

Character Themes

Or: What does this tell us about Heathcliff?

Well, first I have to talk a bit about EGO in general. Hitting the ignition point, where you get the Carmen Chat, requires Desire and a Will to see those desires out. Non-capitalized ego, if you will. Philip’s desire to stop feeling inadequate, Xiao grief (I know this is a bad summary of Xiao but this isn’t a Xiao essay), Dongrang’s need for More (please refer to Xiao parenthetical, substitute Dongrang for Xiao). Manifesting EGO instead of distorting is about Self-Acceptance and Self-Control—Philip was keeping it together (sort of) until he started denying his inner drives to Oswald and pretending that that wasn’t something he felt. Xiao went “yes, I am being selfish and have selfish desires, but that doesn’t mean I have to be a bad person”. Dongrang stopped being “Dongrang, Who Denies All” when he admitted “You know what, I’m a selfish piece of shit, and I’m going to embrace being a selfish piece of shit”. EGO does *not* require you to be a good person!

For Heathcliff, that desire is, as you saw on his bat, REVENGE. He’s spent a lifetime hurting, and there is a part of him that he’s been storing up all of that hurt, holding onto it, and nurturing it into a Grudge. He wants so very, very badly to be able to hurt those who have hurt him. But it’s not the only desire within him—his love for Cathy is also a powerful motivator.

In Canti 6, faced with truly losing Cathy with absolute heartbreak, we see REVENGE become his only pillar. He desperately needs to take out this pain in *somebody*, and it doesn’t really matter who. He’s ready to give in to it all, lose control, and blindly lash out at his surroundings until Wuthering Heights is reduced to rubble around him. Possibly on top of him—he does not care. And so, he Distorts.

Wild Hunt Heathcliff has taken the reins of these impulses, instead of letting them drive him blindly. He wants to make those who hurt him suffer, but he does so with his eyes fully open, ready to be patient to maximize the pain he inflicts—maiming Gregor, the mountain of corpses in his wake, letting the Heights organize one last stand against him, a grand banquet. And it is through this self-mastery that he gains the means to make this suffering he inflicts last beyond the grave—to bind their souls in his service, so that even as they despise him and curse him, they are nonetheless bent to his will. He has manifested Dullahan.

To Wild Hunt Heathcliff, suffering is the base state of the world. Any moment of comfort, respite, or tenderness is ephemeral, a momentary shelter against the rain that will inevitably be lost. He has rejected Cathy’s love entirely, not because he does not love her, but because he does not believe in love as being a solid, real thing. Not like hatred is. Hatred is forever. You can *rely* on hatred. And if you are able to find satisfaction in being hated, to drink deeply from that spiteful well, you’ll never go thirsty. No, you’ll live in a veritable land of plenty. A miserable, bitter land of plenty, and you’re going to be a miserable and bitter fuck, but at least you’ll have the satisfaction that the people who hate you died mad and continue to be mad. That’s the core of Dullahan,

The third act swerve of this essay is that I do not think that our Heathcliff is going to be able to manifest Dullahan, because he isn’t that person anymore—the path that leads there has been closed to him. Hindley and Linton are dead, and he has bigger concerns right now—the bat no longer says Revenge, it says Remember. The revenge pillar is the one that crumbled, so he is—unsteadily—driven more by his love for Cathy right now. If he continues in this path, his EGO (and come on, we *will* get to see the full EGO for everyone eventually) is going to be something else entirely. Some similar motifs, of course, but taken in a new direction. Hopefully a healthier one!

And I think that’s really neat!

[yuurei20]

Jade and Floyd Info Compilation part 18: Riddle and Floyd

Jade says “Floyd caused a bit of a stir at our orientation,” and during Beanfest we learn why: Floyd explains that Riddle used magic to blast him through the air at their orientation. “All I did was razz him a little, and he just SNAPPED…next thing I knew, there I was, laid out on the floor. Jade burst out laughing when he saw me.”

Our introduction to Floyd during the main story involves him being excited to see Riddle, which is a common theme.

It is not unusual for Floyd to tease Riddle about his height, and Riddle delights in the moment when Floyd is slapped by Eliza (“Let that be a lesson. It is folly to pick bridal candidates solely based on height!”)

After the events of Phantom Bride Floyd encourages Riddle to punch him a little as seeing everyone fight “got (him) in the mood to throw down”, but Riddle replies, “This is not the time nor the place!”

Floyd teases Riddle during Beanfest and says that if any monsters try to attack him then he will scare them off, but that is not what ends up happening: when the group is ambushed by Lilia, Jamil and others Floyd insists that they leave Riddle behind to keep the opposing team busy while the rest of them escape.

Floyd teases Riddle about not eating properly during the Halloween party (it is hinted that Riddle may have issues with food, similar to Azul), insisting that he eat dessert.

It is not uncommon for Floyd to express concern over people not eating properly, which he also does for Jade and Azul.

Floyd says that if the dark mirror had selected him for Heartslabyul, there’s a chance he would have “squeezed” Riddle and taken over the position of Housewarden. (Deuce says “Please don’t underestimate our boss.”)

Floyd seems to become disheartened when Riddle shuts him down: in a vignette where he grabs a book that Riddle needs from its shelf (where he intentionally put it too high up for Riddle to reach) he runs away with it, encouraging Riddle to chase him. Riddle refuses, saying, “What have I done to deserve this mistreatment?” and Floyd’s mood immediately crashes: he passes the book to Riddle and leaves. Riddle reflects, “I can’t tell if I upset him or if that was yet another of his mood swings.”

Jade asks if Riddle doesn’t actually miss it when Floyd isn’t in the mood to tease him and Riddle responds, “Certainly not. I rather like not being under constant attack.”

It is possible that there are times when Floyd intentionally makes Riddle angry for his benefit, such as when he teases a shivering Riddle during Vargas Camp (“Glad you warmed up”) and a disheartened Riddle who does not want to go home to his mother at the start of winter break (Trey: “Well, at least he’s got his moxie back.”)

Floyd and Riddle may have more in common than Riddle would prefer to admit, though Floyd seems aware of it: Vil refers to them as “our pair of live wires,” and they both try to dive into the dark mirror during Spectral Soiree to go in search of the kidnapped students.

They also both express frustration with the fine print of the invitation that explains the dress code required in order to pass through, and when the kidnapped students are discovered to not be in costume they both call them out for it, with Leona observing, “You guys are still mad about the Dark Mirror givin’ you the boot, huh?”

Both Floyd and Riddle get each other presents catered to each other's interests, but pretend they are indifferent: Riddle gives Floyd a shoehorn that is engraved with an “F” but claims it was an afterthought, while Floyd gifts Riddle with a book band (that Riddle uses for class), though Floyd claims he just didn’t want it. (Credit for this discovery to neworld_twt on Twitter)

[firstkanaphans]

if i have permission to be a bit of a bitch in your inbox (feel free to ignore this if not), the dichotomy people build between bl and queer media is sooooo fascinating. and of course by that i mean it gives me hives. the universalizing of 'real queer experiences' is obnoxious as hell, but how its been applied to ofts has really shown me why i find it so obnoxious. most of the people who hold this dichotomy would never classify a bl that ignores homophobia as 'authentically queer' media. but i definitely saw people who hoped that the 'authentically queer' ofts would exist in a bubble without any slutshaming, or that it would be resolutely shut down in show. but in my aroallo experience? that would be as inauthentic as the no homophobia bubble, so where does that leave us?

also the circular logic in the bl vs queer media arguments is mind numbing. 'bl doesnt cover these types of themes' yeah dude because you forcibly remove everything with those themes from the bl category in your head. 'queer media must acknowledge homophobia' the idea that a story by queer people about queer characters isnt really queer because it chooses to focus on joy or discovery or any other facet of queer existence is so fucking depressing. go hug a queer friend and think about why you feel queerness is defined by suffering before anything else.

Oh, hey, you found my soap box, Anon! Let me just step on up there with you for a minute.

So, first off, let me just say how much I hate the term “authentically” queer. It seems to suggest that in order to be queer, you have to be queer a certain way. As an ultra femme lesbian, the queer community often makes me feel like I’m not queer enough. That I don’t understand the hardships that come with being gay because I am “straight-passing.” This is the same thing people do to BLs. News flash: if you’re queer, you’re queer. Period. Congratulations, that’s all it takes to be authentic!

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that a large percentage of the people I see using this designation are straight women who think that queer suffering is a necessary part of the queer experience, but a lot of “authentically queer” people—me included—don’t want to be reminded of our real-life suffering every time we turn on the TV. Heartstopper is triggering for me. Bad Buddy is not. As a queer woman currently living in Ron DeSantis’s Florida,  I deserve to be able to turn on the TV every once in a while and not be reminded that there are people in the world who want me dead.

I’ve learned that when people describe a BL as “authentically queer,” what they actually mean is “This BL feels more Western”—the racist insinuation there being that Western media is inherently better.

I feel like The Eclipse is a good example of this hypocrisy. No one has ever called The Eclipse “authentically queer” despite the fact that it delivers one of the most nuanced takes on the dangers of systemic homophobia that I have seen anywhere. The writers of both the source material and the script are gay men. The director is queer. That seems to meet all of the qualifications these people set for “authentically queer” and yet no one has ever questioned that The Eclipse is a BL. Why? Because it incorporates traditionally Asian/yaoi humor tropes such as the pratfall and the accidental kiss. 

Are you sensing a pattern? It’s not the queer-ness of a piece of media that determines whether it is seen as “authentic.” It is its “Western-ness.”

Let me be very clear: All BLs are “authentically queer” media because the only requirement needed for a piece of media to be “authentically” queer is for the characters to be queer. And if you don’t like that, then maybe stop watching BLs.

If the people who were producing these shows had a problem with the term, that would be another discussion, but they don’t. P’Jojo has never advertised Only Friends as anything other than a BL. The fandom did that for him. And with all due respect, if the people making the fucking thing are calling it a BL, then it’s a fucking BL.

So, yeah. Not liking BLs doesn’t make you cool. It makes you a bigot. The fact that the term has become so derogatory is rooted in both racism and misogyny because this was originally a genre created by women, for women, and the hobbies of women are so often infantilized.

BLs are queer media. Die mad about it.

[possum-quesadilla]

Chapter 9 of Time’s Arrow, “I am selfish, I am broken, I am cruel, I am all the things they might have said to you” is here! Woof. Sorry everyone. Happy Beetlejuice 2 premiere! :,)

THIS CHAPTER IS PARTICULARLY ROUGH. PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS CAREFULLY BEFORE PROCEEDING.

Extras below!

- The lyrics for this chapter’s title is from “Never Love An Anchor” by The Crane Wives.

- “The next ten months moved at the speed of a dream.” - A call back to a line from Time is a Flat Circle, which itself is a reference to “Asteroid City”! Gotcha again!

- “They read ‘Flowers for Algernon’, ‘An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge’, and… some sort of Jane Austen novels.” - I wonder if those stories are thematically relevant to this chapter?

- “He had no idea what to do about his fur anyhow. It had never grown in that long and thick before, how was he supposed to know it would do that?” - It was growing properly because he was finally happy and healthy enough for it to do so!

- “She was tall. Well, at least taller than him. Damnit.” - Bela is 5’9”! She is on the shorter side for demons. Beej is just especially small, since he was malnourished.

- “Her roots were black, the rest of her hair cascaded down to her shoulders in similar curls to his own, colored with a gentle lavender hue.” - Bela’s resting hair color is purple instead of green like Beej!

- “She had an orange-jeweled nose ring.” - Bela and Deb have matching nose rings, since exchanging jewelry is how demons court each other!

- “Shades of a gentle maroon red flickered through Bela’s hair.” - Bela has different colors for her emotions than Beej does!

- “Most were “whales”, stolen away in malevolent Deals to forever be a supply for the demon they were tied to. Slowly withering away to nothing.” - this is inspired by “Doctor Sleep”, because I’m a huge Mike Flanagan fiend.

- “They were all strange, all lacked the innate ability to socially adapt that the other demons thrived off of.” - Autism can run in a family, and it sure does run in the Shoggoth family!

- “He didn’t know why she was upset, but he knew it was up to him to make it better. (Why else was he here?)” - Still partially believes his only purpose is to make others happy, or they wouldn’t want him around.

- “… she hesitated, still firmly grasping the bright green fleece blanket he’d summoned from his room around her shoulders.” - The same blanket Charles got Beej for his room!

- “ “I watched this movie last night, since I couldn’t fall asleep. It was..” their voice caught in their throat, and their breath hitched. Beetlejuice slowly rose from his chair, setting the ice pack on the counter. “… lotta.. big feelings about it, huh?” They rapidly nodded, wrapping their arms around themself. “I don’t… I can’t keep living the way I do.” ” - Ash watched “I Saw The TV Glow”, which is a horror movie about being trans. It gutted me the first time I saw it. Ash had a similar visceral reaction, and it made her rethink how she is living. It also informs a lot of this chapter’s theming, but it is not required viewing for this fic. It is very, very difficult to watch for neurodivergent queers.

- “The living need attention too, Ash. It’s okay.” - This line is partially taken from “Dead Girls” by Penelope Scott, which is a very important song on Ash’s playlist.

- “You feel like you’ll die if you stay there. Or… worse.” - An “I Saw The TV Glow” reference. There’s quite a few in here.

- “Thank you, Beetlejuice.” - the first time they’ve called him by his actual name!

- Anyone spot more Time is a Flat Circle parallels?

- “It was then that Beetlejuice got hit by his first car.” - This is mostly a joke about how I, the author, have been hit by 4 cars. I feel like Beej would be similarly unlucky.

- “… it’s like being a wolf dog.” - This is based on how I’ve explained what it was like to grow up in my household.

- “Memories washed away like chalk on the sidewalk.” - Another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference.

- “Adam and Barbara celebrated their birthdays, which landed a couple days apart from each other, by smelling wine and watching ‘Lord of the Rings’ together. Beetlejuice was invited to join them.” - Based on something Adam made Beej he would promise to do in an earlier chapter!

- “June was full of beautiful sunsets he watched with his family.” - This was, like the previous thing, also listed among the reasons Beej should keep “living” in a previous chapter.

- “At the end of the month, walking to school and the store with Lydia, Beetlejuice realized with horror that Lydia was taller than him. Like, at least half a foot taller.” - Lydia is 5’7” now, he’s just being dramatic.

- “(How could no one see it? He felt so happy, but still he felt pieces of him slowly dying and rotting away. How could no one see that he was rotten? That he was dying?)” - This is partially another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference, and a reference to the ending of the song “you smell of dead flowers” by vslush and cliesel

- “August came like a thief in the night.” - A callback to Time is a Flat Circle! Which is itself an Edgar Allen Poe reference.

- “… they say old man Hirsch signed up for it right before he went missing.” - Yes he is named after Alex Hirsch, creator of “Gravity Falls”. Love ya Alex!

- “ “I managed to talk him down from another viewing of ‘Pride and Prejudice’!” (Another? What was that? They’d seen it before?)” - This is meant to alert the reader that something is very wrong, as “Pride and Prejudice” was brought up before by Beetlejuice himself.

- “Beetlejuice scratched at their left arm. The scars had started to fade.” - He was resorting to self-regulating self harm less enough that his arm was healing before this point.

- “I… I couldn’t.. I didn’t have enough energy to resist the Seal w-.. without a cult.” - Beetlejuice was tricking people to sign up for his cult under the guise of a “Loyalty Program”.

- “Why have they been going missing, then?” … “They swore they were choking on the taste of blood, bile rising in their throat as they felt their flesh between their teeth.” - Beetlejuice ate a few members of his cult. That’s why there’s missing persons in the town.

- “Someone’s hand gripped the back of their shirt, trying to pull them out of the kitchen. Panic spiked within them. Beetlejuice felt the blow to the back of their head, the horrible stabbing agony in their chest. That familiar, terrifying sensation they’d felt over and over and over and- ”- Beetlejuice had flashbacks to being killed during the loop over and over because Charles touched his old wound and it scared him, hence why he lashed out.

- “There’s still time. There has to be.” - Yet another “I Saw The TV Glow” reference.

- “ “Hello, pet.” Time’s up.” - Meant to envoke a terrifying line in “Yo, Girl” from Heathers the musical.

- “I’ll make you wish you could die!” - This line was originally going to be a more blatant reference to a line that Circus Baby from the FNAF series says often, “You won’t die, but you’ll wish you could.”

- “You always bounce ba- ” - Meant to be a reference to this scene from “Adventure Time” which I’ve… never seen…

- “Beetlejuice was distantly aware that Cyrus brought his claws up to his mouth to lick some of the blood off of them. “Choke on it,” they sputtered, although they weren’t sure if Cyrus could understand them through all of the blood that bubbled out of their mouth.” - Meant to be a reference to the horrific death of Captain Rhodes from “Day of the Dead”!

- “Beetlejuice wheezed out a last croak as Cyrus once again gripped their hoof and continued dragging them towards the portal.” - This is meant to evoke the gut-wrenching opening scene of “Scream”. Specifically, the part where Ghostface is dragging Casey away, and she is wheezing out her last breaths, which her parents can hear over the phone. The music in that scene never fails to make me cry. (I cried my eyes out rewatching that scene and imagining it playing when the Maitlands see the basement, but that’s not how things will happen…)

- “I’m sorry I was the one you loved.” - From “I’m Your Man” by Mitski.

[luridon]

Imago Dei

A story of zealotry and bugs.

Or: Could you love a worm?

♡characters: yandere!bug x  deity!reader

♡warnings: MINORS DNI, bugs, blood, cannibalism, murder, obsession, gore, animal death, eldritch themes where YOU are the incomprehensible horror, religious themes, body horror, suicidal thoughts in an I have no mouth and I must scream kinda way, no smut but this is probably worse than smut honestly,  MINORS DNI

♡notes: Buggy People. Bug themes. Fantasyish bug world. Arachnophobes and entomophobes beware. You guys know the adventure time episode with tiny people on a separate plane of reality/existence that's sort of the logic we're operating on. This is the inverse of the "would you love me if I was a worm" meme because the worm comes first here. Does this count as bestiality is that what this is?? Ehh this is xenofiction ish this is FINE everything's FINE we don't have to psychoanalyze this we're all FINE this is all in good fun wtf did I write this

♡w/c: 2k+ | ♡masterlist♡ |

You chose him from the swarm.

You were a thing he could not comprehend, a being so vast his kind's vision was simply incapable of perceiving them in their entirety. You, in comparison, had an eye was so great you saw all his kin at once. You saw the lands beyond, their deep caverns and glass-castled cities, their seas-

And you saw him, an insignificant creature among many. A weak worm writhing among his brethren in the dirt. Your silver claws descended, and you plucked his prone form from the slums of his nest.

The elders had whispered of godkin and cruelty, of their favored being fed the still-squirming flesh of his kind. It was of little concern to him, a young thing starved and cold. He thought only of hunger. If not that, then of an end. . .but that end did not come.

For a moment and an eternity, you tended to him. You brought fresh fruit to his maw, the pulp dripping with sweet nectar. Though hesitant, his hunger won, and he ravenously tore into the meal. He was cradled in flesh soft and warm as he fed, and he could feel your lifeblood pulse beneath the plane of it. Slowly, he had his fill of the nectar, and he regained his strength.

Your great eye gazed upon him through it all. A low sound murmured all about him, and the maw that could have so easily devoured everyone he knew in a bite bared strange ivory fangs. He could do nothing but bare his own black fangs, to try and understand-

And that was his mistake. 

The world fell.

Once again, he was upon the meager dirt, only now his belly was full. He shifted about, but your warm hold was gone, so too was your gaze.

Your favor had ended as quickly as it came. You had vanished from the skies beyond, from the everything in his small, lowly world.

No matter what he asked of the elders or his peers, none could say what had happened.

Why would godkin care for us?  they scoffed, if they even believed in gods to begin with. You imagined things in your delirium. Banish these strange dreams from you head, child. They will only plague you.

Plagued indeed. He was haunted by your strange act. Why had you done so? Why had you shown kindness to such an insignificant creature, a runt fit to only to be torn apart by the rest of his nest when he'd finally keel over and die?

He could not understand.

He wanted to understand.

He wanted to feel that warmth, that gaze that found him worthy, taste that nectar, sweet and cool, hear that soothing god-tongue, even if he could not discern a word. Nothing but a daydream, whispered the nest, but he knew-

You were real. The stories of godkin must have come from somewhere. He would seek you, and understand.

To do so required sacrifice.

To survive, one needed strength. For strength, one needed sustenance, and in the nest, there was no better fare than flesh still fresh and bleeding.

Those the godkin favored fed upon lower beings, so the stories went.

As he tore into the flesh of those he felled, he thought the tales true. The tenderness of their bodies filled him with strength, and he felt something stirring within him with every dripping mouthful.

There were whispers of the power to change. Even the weak could grow strong. Even worms could grow wings and horns and armor.

A vain hope, some would say, clicking their fangs with disdain, delighting in small, pitiful pleasures. We are all destined to die as we are. Is it not lovely, to die as we are?

You did not let him die. He must have been destined for more.

He grew larger, and braver. From the deceased he went to hunt weaklings, then the hale, than the strong. Their cries were heeded no more than their scorn. Their blood wet his maw, their flesh filled his stomach.

They must have believed in gods then. They must have believed in you, for they were within him, a part of him, and he believed in you. Gods like worship, no? Now a whole nest sought you as he did.

Still, you did not appear.

The offering must not have been grand enough. It was a gift so paltry, of course it was unworthy of your attention. What did you seek then? Is there anything you could desire? What would it take to win your favor once more?

He despaired in the ravaged nest, and full and a weary from the fight and the feast, he fell into a deep sleep.

There are rumors of a beast.

One that devoured towns, one that ruined kingdoms led even by the great queens of earth and nectar. Walls of crystal and mazes deep could not save their people. Claw and venom, stinger and wing- none could halt the monster.

It would come and conquer, feasting upon the fallen. It was horrible sight, a beast with armor, and wing, and venom- a creature that seemed to take into itself all the powers of those it fed upon. It persisted through cycles and seasons beyond those of mortal beings. It was unkillable, unstoppable.

Only those who spoke of godkin would live. Only those who proclaimed a devotion for the same entity it worshipped were spared.

The rumors spread until they ceased to be mere tales, because the beast was met, or the scoffers perished.

To survive, a cult rose in the monster's wake. Feigned following though it be, the masses were desperate to avoid the beast's wrath. The number of devoted grew, and grew, and grew, and fearing more power to the beast, fearing their own consumption by its fangs or its frenzied swarm, the rulers of nests gathered and one dared to ask the beast what it sought.

A fool's errand, a lover's folly, the ramblings of a lunatick. Still, cooperation was sworn, and scholars all across the soils and skies toiled to bring its god to the land. But how terrible a god it must be- for a such a zealot to be its first follower.

A spell of summoning was found, and alongside it. . . a spell of change. To bring god-kin to their lowly realm would only spell doom for them all. A fragile vessel then, to hold their mind, their essence. Something to placate its gluttonous fiend without ending everything as it did.

The beast knew nothing of the schemes of the fearful rulers. Through much sacrifice, at last the power to bring the god-kin was ammassed.

And so it was.

What a terrible thing it was, a god, or whatever portion was snatched of one, forced into the form of one of scaled winged and thin-limbed. Something so vast could not be made so small so easily. Wings twisted with flesh and fat, eyes all about it. It thrashed in its new form, it wept and bled-

But that mattered little.

A godkin was brought low, and the beast was appeased. There was peace in the realm, and the people rejoiced.

It hurts.

Everything hurts.

You wake in pain, with senses stolen and an inexplicable wrongness about you. You can move, but nothing moves right. You can see, but your sight is strange. You try to call for help-

There is nothing you can say. You cannot feel your tongue or teeth, or lips, or throat, or anything at all where your mouth should be. A nightmare, a bout of sleep paralysis, a terrible dream is all it is-

You hope that's all it is. You hope in vain.

The world trembles and so do you. You try to bring a hand to your face but find it wrong, find scales and segments over your skin and the color is wrong the texture is wrong everything is wrong-

Your joints feel too low, or too high, your body too light and too heavy. There are heavy masses at your back and like a reflex when they strike something, you lurched forward and they unfurl in a most uncomfortable, off-putting matter. New nerves, your limbs, what is happening to you-?

You feel claws spined and sharp take what should have been your hands. You hear things you could not comprehend yet do- chitters and shutterings, clicking sounds all about filtered through your head as whispers and meaning. The world is too dark yet you can't shut or open your eyes. You need to breathe but can't feel lungs, yet everything smelled. Too strong, too clear, of food, of flesh, of flowers, of soil-

Too much, it is too much-

Your new form grants you one small mercy.

You fall asleep.

You do not know how long you've been here.

A strange, dark place. A burrow, a nest, one with a bed strewn with leaves and petals and silks for a bed. You move little. You do not want to, when every movement reminds you of what you are now.

You hate the dark of it, the cloying scent of decay and earth, the silence.

But you hate the figure beside you more.

It has a terrifying visage, one barely human the way the other few faces you've seen are, the way your own feels like beneath your horrible clawed, scaled hands. It's more buglike than anything, mandibles and chitin and eyes too big and dark. You are one of them now, likely. You have not dared to look.

The figure hums. It's a soft thing, almost a soothing croon, but you loathe it all the same. It's no human sound. There is no human here, not even you.

It sounds pleased with itself, as it speaks of the world outside, of pleasant weather and a garden. You cannot tell what sort of insect it is, but it's held in high regard by the others, it has its own land where none bother it, and so none bother you. It says those who tried to slay you have been executed, and their heads, clean and shining, are piked among the foliage and blooms.

That draws tears from you, and you hate the revolting beast beside you as bows its head to lap up the fluid from all the eyes.

How relieved you must be, it says. I'm glad I could protect you.

You hate it, the creature that brought you here and keeps you here. The one time you felt hope was when those intruders swarmed in, and tried to take your head.

An abomination, they had hissed, raising something sharp, An affront to nature.

You only prayed that they knew where your neck was, if you had one in this body.

Your soft flesh was barely pierced when they were flung from you. The figure now at your side had returned, and it took them all away, slaying some, maiming others. Then it had kneeled beside you, murmuring apologies and begging for forgiveness as it tended to you.

You think you started truly hating it then.

Your captor never tires of muttering about how glad it is to have you here, your flesh and your warmth, your mere presence. It likes to lay beside you, or press its face or claws to your wings to feel the veins and arteries beneath your skin. It drinks of your tears and blood and thanks you for the blessing, and you have much to give as you weep from the pain of your new form, of being here, from the eyes upon your head and the ones upon your wings.

It is a monster that kneels beside you and keeps you here, and you are a monster as well.

You are an abomination, to your kind and its own. You hope others of its kin feel the same, and that they'll seek to finish what their fellows started.

You can only hope one day, one of them will succeed.

Tldr: A worm fell in love with something way beyond it so metamorphosed into an abomination of a beetle and dragged its god down to its plane even if that mean much murder and squishing a human into a horrible fleshy butterfly abomination thing. It is now happily malewifing while its god wants to die.

[tokiro07]

Ichi the Witch ch.4 thoughts

[Eight-Foot Vertical Leap?!]

(Contents: narrative structure - worldbuilding, character analysis - Ichi/Desscaras/Kumugi, thematic analysis - Joy/Friendship)

Maybe it's because this is the fourth series I've written weekly reviews for, but I'm really seeing the legwork going into these early chapters

I don't really want to get to the point where I'm beating a dead horse, but I feel like keeping track of this will somehow be beneficial to me in the long run

Chapter 1 - establishes the premise (high concept, basic setting, core cast and themes)

Establishes the cast's personalities and dynamics

Establishes the flow of the series

Begins actual worldbuilding

I don't know if it's just because I haven't paid a ton of attention previously, but the fact that I'm able to so clearly see the functional layout of the storytelling so far makes me feel like this series in particular might end up being a masterclass in basic story structure. I suppose we'll have to see how it continues to develop in the coming weeks, but I wouldn't be surprised if next week and the week after introduce the primary goal and primary antagonist, though maybe that would be too structured?

Of course, it's entirely possible that next week will just be more worldbuilding for a bit, since we're most likely going to get a closer look at the Witches Association, but I have to figure we're going to need to establish a goal soon on account of Ichi being some kind of aberration that captured the ostensible most power Magik in all the land. I'm envisioning something like Gojo offering Yuji a stay of execution in JJK, though I don't know if Ichi is going to be considered a criminal

For now, though, let's focus on the glimpse into the worldbuilding we did get

Worldbuilding

First and foremost, the disparity in magic availability is pretty stark. As Desscaras points out, you aren't likely to see a lot of magic users out in the sticks, and those that you do see seem to get whisked away to the capital for training (as we saw in ch.1). Meanwhlie, magic is extremely common in the capital, to the point that basically every shopkeeper on the street seems to be using or selling magic

I don't know if that's going to become a major recurring theme, but I think that kind of inequity is something we should keep an eye out for. Series like Black Clover touch on it with the literal tiered structure of the Clover Kingdom, but as far as I recall it was never a major point of contention in their society, so I'd definitely like it if Nishi gives it a bit of attention

The fact that there's a clear divide between genders suggests that social inequity is already on Nishi's mind, so economics would probably be a good way to expand on the concept from a different angle. I do believe she's considered it, since the literal first thing she brings up in this worldbuilding expo is the tourism market, a concept I definitely didn't expect to see in a fantasy series like this

While I don't really know enough about the history of tourism to dispute how old the practice is, Nishi definitely seems to be going out of her way to establish that this world is a little more advanced than ch.1 would make you think with the inclusion of a flying motor scooter. It kind of feels like how Naruto inexplicably had TVs or HxH suddenly revealed it had the internet, but this at least happened quickly enough that it's not too jarring

There's also the fact that it's all magic anyway, so nothing really feels too far outside of the realm of possibility; Desscaras had apparently received a ton of messages on her magic mirror in ch.2, so obviously that was meant to be a stand-in for a phone

Magic System

Speaking of magic, this chapter does seem to confirm a suspicion that I've had since ch.2: not all magic comes from the Magiks

In ch.2, Desscaras was able to create and dispel a cage without seeming to use a chant; at the time I figured the dispelling didn't require it and the casting happened off-screen, so I didn't pay it much mind. Then in ch.3, she not only cast a silencing spell on Ichi without a chant, she also mentioned putting magical power into the ropes they used on Raiko

Now in this chapter, the saleswoman mentions charging the magic boots with magic power; in other words, the basis of this magic system isn't just the Magiks, but magic power, an energy source that women seem to either possess or have access to. This would explain why it's so special that Ichi was able to use Uroro even though logically any man should have been to pass his trial - men literally aren't supposed to be able to access magic power at all, even to use basic, non-Magik spells

Brief aside, I really hope that any visually impaired readers are able to hear the difference between magic and Magik in their text-to-speech readers, cus otherwise this series is going to be kind of annoying

Anyway, it's not just a lack of compatibility between men and Magik, it's basically like men lack an organ that would allow them to channel magic power. While it does make a bit more sense, I am sad that it suggests that the line "in this world, magic is alive" isn't entirely accurate. If there are spells that can be cast without passing a Magiks trial, then that kind of cuts into the uniqueness of the power system a bit, though again we'll need to wait and see how it develops

Along with dropping more hints about the magic system, this chapter also drops more hints about what kind of person Ichi is and how he fits into this world

Boy Meets World

It was lightly touched on in ch.1 with Ichi hunting the Flower Field Guardian for the villagers, but Ichi seems to like helping people. I kind of thought he did the hunt for the sake of it and the gratitude of the people was just a nice bonus, but seeing him go out of his way to help a complete stranger even at the risk of exposing his secret drives home that he enjoys being kind just as much as going on a good hunt

The little detail of him leaving his knife as collateral for the magic boots also solidifies that he has a pretty strict moral code; he won't murder, he won't steal, he won't abandon someone in need, and he won't make up excuses either. He could have swiped the boots and said "it was an emergency, I was planning to return them afterwards," but instead he took the time to write a note and leave behind something of value to prove his intent rather than leaving without explanation expecting the end to justify the means

Of course, he's still pretty naive; it's silly for him to assume that the shopkeepers place the same value on his ordinary hunting knife as he does and that it would be equivalent to specially crafted magical boots, and his logic that he didn't use magic since he didn't cast any spells is patently incorrect. Any dolt who sees a man using a magic item is going to piece together that he's the Manwitch that people are talking about, because even something as basic as that is still a fundamental impossibility in this setting

But that naivete is an important bit of development for us to understand and become endeared to Ichi's character. He was a little goofy in ch.1, and we got hints in both chs.1 and 3 that he's a bit crazy, but this chapter expands on what I believe is the most important element of not only his character, but any good protagonist: his ability to enjoy himself

Joy to the World

Previously, hunting was the only thing that we knew Ichi cared about, and his newfound ability to use magic simply allowed him to hunt new prey that he wouldn't be able to otherwise. However, the presence of magic was no more than a facilitator, an excuse to bring him into this world of monsters and witches, but he himself had no clear interest in it

With this chapter, though, Ichi's opinion on magic is firmly established: it's fun. I don't know how it compares to hunting, and obviously those two passions are just going to overlap, but an explicit interest in the subject matter will make the inevitable training arcs to come something Ichi will actively want to participate in rather than a chore

More importantly, though, because we're looking at this world through Ichi's eyes, his fascination with magic is our fascination with magic. Ichi and I now care equally about the potential of this magic system, and I can now trust that he will go out of his way to explore it in a way that I want him to. If Ichi couldn't be bothered to care about the magic, then why should I be expected to?

This approach of synchronizing the interests of the cast with the interests of the audience is something that I've definitely noticed in a lot of other manga as well: Luffy's thirst for adventure, Fuuko's genuine love for all of the other Negators, Iroha's knack for puzzle-solving, Asumi's immersion in MMA techniques, all of these are great examples of the author showing the audience what joys their world has to offer to the audience

A long time ago, I once posited that along with Jump's values of Friendship, Effort and Victory there was a fourth, unspoken value. At the time, I thought it was Dreams, but I've since realized that the attainment of a Dream is Victory. Nowadays, with the unbridled mirth I've seen from Jump's protagonists across the last several years, I've realized that that fourth value can be nothing other than Joy. Victory without Joy is hollow. Effort without Joy is suffering. Friendship without Joy is transactional. None of the others stand without Joy, and yet Joy itself stands alone just fine - Joy can be found anywhere, as it can be created from within those who need it wherever they may be

Media naturally has plenty of room for morose, pessimistic and overall nasty protagonists, so of course not every Jump manga is going to prioritize Joy, but not every Jump manga prioritizes Friendship, Effort or Victory either. This early in the game, I don't even think I can say which one Nishi intends to focus on just yet, but I can say for sure that she wants Joy to be a major element going forward, and that honestly makes me more excited than any promise of cool monster designs or an intricate power system ever could

That said, if I had to guess, of the three main values, I'd say that Ichi the Witch is most likely to prove itself to be a Friendship series based on what we've seen already

You've Got a Friend In Me

Not only is it extremely likely that Uroro's arc is going to see him actually form a bond with Ichi, but Ichi's moment of sparkly-eyed delight with magic even seems to be endearing him to Desscaras as well. It was brief, quickly replaced with her usual sneer and penchant to evade responsibility, but something definitely stirred within her in that moment. A memory? A long-lost emotion? Hope? Whatever it was, Desscaras' opinion of Ichi is slowly but surely changing, and by the end she's definitely going to cherish this crude little monkey boy she found in the middle of the woods

Along with the subtle developments of our established cast, though, we also finally got our first new addition since ch.1! Kumugi's introduction was much too detailed for a throw-away character, and her presence for Ichi and Desscaras' crash landing in front of Monegold puts her in the perfect position to be dragged along for the ride (perfectly in accordance with her established fail-girl status)

I've already suggested that Desscaras won't be a consistently present party member since she's the mentor archetype, so Kumugi offers to fill the void she'll leave by going in the near opposite direction. While Desscaras is the strongest and most skilled Witch in the land, Kumugi is a Cadet who seems to have nothing going for her; no luck, no respect, and likely no notable capability. Both serve as excellent foils to Ichi, a bright-eyed, one-in-a-million talent without an ounce of experience in this world who as of yet hasn't uttered a single word of complaint about anything. Hell, the guy literally got crapped on in ch.1 and he just laughed it off, whereas Desscaras' would no doubt blow a gasket and Kumugi would likely faint in shock

I don't know how big this cast is going to get or if the core cast will be consistent or on rotation, but the three friends we've already gotten for Ichi all already provide such clear paths for how their relationships can and likely will develop that I can't help but feel like those relationships will be Nishi's main priority. Not that I don't see how she could pivot to Effort (the hunt) or Victory (the trophy), but the mere fact that the actual hunt for Raiko actually happened off-screen and was only expanded upon after it was complete suggests that the process and result are less important than the people present

I don't envision Kumugi as a romantic interest just yet, but I do anticipate her anxieties and negativity being strongly impacted by Ichi's spontaneity and optimism. His personality sets him up to drag her into big and unexpected trouble, and those experiences will likely help her come to grips with her own internal struggles. If I'm right, then Ichi is likely to have a flat character arc, wherein he's the one teaching everyone else the right way to be rather than learning from people who have already found their answers

This is more or less what I predicted in ch.2 when I suggested that Ichi would fundamentally change the way that Witches approach Magiks, but now focused on a more interpersonal level than a strictly narrative one

What's particularly interesting about Ichi though is that it doesn't seem likely that he'll have a completely flat arc, since he seems so open to new experiences and ways of thinking. He's strong-willed, but the new experiences he gains will certainly begin to change his perspective and values. Like I said, his personality is likely to get him and Kumugi into trouble, but on the flip side, Kumugi's apprehension is likely to help her get herself and Ichi out of trouble at some point or another, allowing the two to meet in the middle rather than just dragging each other kicking and screaming into their way of life

As usual, I may be getting ahead of myself, but if things go the way I expect them to, I want to be able to look back and see at what points the puzzle pieces clicked into place for me. And if I'm wrong, I'd like to have a record of how I came to those conclusions so I can compare and contrast my expectations with reality more effectively

Until next time, let's enjoy life!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

diasomnia, 1 — 19

***Spoilers ahead!!!***

Note: this is just a general summary of what has happened so far and my initial reactions to those major events. I focused my comments on whatever interests me the most (ie lore and funny character interactions), so there are definitely details that were overlooked and lines that were simplified to make a joke; please do not rely on this as a translation.

Big thanks to @shuuenmei and @curekibouka-writing for clarifying the more confusing tracks of the story (some parts were difficult to follow the sequence of events for) and the details of the✨ deep lore ✨ It was fun screaming with the both of you—

Ah yes, Yuu’s Sleeping Beauty dream right on cue. Finally starting to put together the puzzle pieces, huh (Yuu goes to check on the Great Seven statues to confirm they saw the Fairy of Thorns in their dreams)? About time—

As expected, Sebek loses his mind and tells Yuu to not abuse Malleus’s kindness. He’s also super pissed that Malleus and Yuu act familiar with each other (and over the nickname). Yup, that interaction went about as well as we all predicted…

Not Lilia being the “I’m an anime boy late for anime school (the internship meeting)!” trope 😂 All he needs is some toast in his mouth!

Crowley talks about boring things how the internships will work and we hear more about the areas of interest for the third years.

Lore ✨ Each internship “semester” is 3 months and you can only take certain internships if you qualify for them via your grades, credits, and electives. You can choose to do 3 separate internships (again, 3 months each) or do 1 internship (for all 9 months). A B or higher is needed on two of the “semesters” to graduate. Students must also submit reports each semester. Some places additionally require interviews and/or special tests to be passed before a student is accepted as an intern. Placements are not first-come, first-serve; you need to earn that spot.

Trey says he wants to do something related to pastries or agriculture; basically, things close to food production 🌾 He wants to take advantage of his opportunities as an NRC student while he still can!! Trey said he wants to work right after school rather than go to university.

Cater is interested in the entertainment industry; he mentions magazines and videos?? It seems he isn’t interested in higher education.

HELP they randomly mention that Ace’s older brother interned in the entertainment industry too (it gets brought up when Cater was considering a theme park for his own internship)??? TRAPPOLA NII ALSO CURRENTLY WORKS IN ENTERTAINMENT????? When do we get to meet him, Ace—

Vil is continuing to advance his own career in film. He already picked out a studio to apply for, and expresses an interest in magical pharmaceuticals (though he doesn’t intend on going to college). Very fitting specialties for everyone, I must say!

Rook is interested in archeology so he can learn more about the world! After learning about S.T.Y.X., he realizes there’s so much more he doesn’t yet know. According to Trey, Rook does appear to intend to pursue college/higher level studies.

LMAO at Trey constantly having to translate Rook-isms for everyone 😂 Classic Science Club…

Unca Weona is cwanky cuz the talking is disturbing his nappy—

Leona’s going to a mining and energy facility in his home country. It’s an option offered only to those with high grades. Leona wants to be a lazy ass 🦁 “They won’t fail their prince, lmao”

Idia is doing an software engineering internship at Olympus Corp (ie TWST Google) 👀 This is huge because back at the end of episode 5 (ie the episode 6 preview), Idia was actively rejecting offers from Olympus Corp, claiming that he wasn’t welcome anywhere. Character growth… Idia isn’t welcome back at S.T.Y.X. because of the Overblotting and how it nearly exposed the organization to the public eye LOL 😂 Absentee Shroud parents upset with him cksbskwbkcnfke

Malleus doesn’t seem to be interested in picking an internship; he says that, to him, 3 months is too short a time to really learn anything (temporal dissonance strikes again). In the end, he is going to research historical ruins?? He can hang out with the Gargoyles 😎 and Rollo/j

BRO WHAT ???? Lilia is dropping out of NRC??? THE FUQ,,,,!.’sveksbskebkzvczbvvv?$$$&85inmw I had to hard stop at this scene because it caught me by surprise.

The first years are talking about Mickey (like if there are certain conditions to get him to appear??). Oh god, they're planning a Mickey Mouse stakeout????? AND ORTHO IS INCLUDED IN THE GROUP AWWWW 🥺 He searches his databases and uses his cool robot tech to look for more information about Mickey but finds nothing.

GRIM MAKES A SUS COMMENT ABOUT HOW ORTHO IS MORE HELPFUL WITH THIS (Mickey and Yuu's worlds perhaps being tied or related to one another) THAN CROWLEY IS.

They overhear Sebek shouting in the cafeteria; he’s in disbelief that Lilia is dropping out of school.

So anyway, Lilia’s magic has, in fact, weakened significantly (he was almost late for the internship meeting because he woke up and found that he couldn't teleport). He plans on retiring in the Land of the Crimson Dragon (Mushu???? IS THAT YOU).

Interesting??? It seems that Lilia has been progressively losing his powers since even before Sebek and Silver were born… It’s not a super recent occurrence.

Sebek and Silver are understandably upset and mention that while it would be easy for either of them to visit Lilia, it would be almost impossible for Malleus because he will be so inundated with his royal duties after graduation. Malleus is distraught as well, but he insists that they respect Lilia's decision. AND HE’S LEAVING IN LIKE A WEEK? That’s barely enough time to mourn or to emotionally prepare for the fallout…

Malleus pitches an idea to talk to his grandma to not overwork Lilia (vice dorm leaders being overworked? What? In this game? Nooooooo/s).

Malleus's grandma is name-dropped (Maleficia)??? Is everyone in the Draconia family just Mal-something????

LOTS OF OMINOUS DIALOGUE ("Time is running out", "Fate cannot be defied", etc.)

After that whole conversation it’s clear that something isn’t right (despite Malleus maintaining his calm in front of Diasomnia). As soon as he’s away from them, the weather instantly turns stormy AND we see Malleus's blot accumulating as early as 7-13 in what I assume will be a very meaty episode.

Sebek and Silver help Lilia pack; Silver finds this tin in Lilia’s room. There is an old bracelet of acorns and thread inside.

Lilia shows up and says that it’s the most precious item he’s ever been gifted??? But it’s not clear who it’s from.

There's another item in the tin (the ring on a chain)! It has a weird effect on Silver?? I think it makes him sleepy???

The gem in the ring is the same color as Silver’s eyes; Lilia thinks its because his parents wanted his eyes to be forever unclouded and pure 🤨 That’s cute and all, but it makes me really suspicious that something super bad will happen later and I’m living for that—

This ring was tied to baby Silver when Lilia found him. He planned on gifting it to Silver when he's finally an adult... and now is that time 😭 Ain’t no way they’re giving us these heartfelt moments only to not tear it down later with something devastating… And?? With the ring being so fancy, there’s no way Silver isn’t descended from some rich family (or even royalty/nobility) himself??? Prince Silver real????/j cuz that ring sure does look like Princess Aurora’s crown…

Sebek pulls up with THIS fucking monstrosity?? It’s a weapon (axe???) Lilia used from back in the day (like, in war). However, nowadays he uses it to chop regular shit like wood. The weapon looks very similar to one that Maleficent’s minions use.

It's made out of a special magical ore! It’s called Mystium, and it changes shape according to the wielder’s magic.

Back to Yuu and co. staking out Mickey! Grim is finally realizing that if Yuu goes home, he’ll be alone 😔 Noooo, fur baby… Don’t be sad..

They wait for a while but get sleepy because Mickey is taking forever to appear. When Yuu wakes up, they see Malleus’s green lights and they go outside to find it’s snowing (again, because of his weird mood). He apologizes and makes the snow vanish, then confides in Yuu about his insecurities.

Malleus tells a story about how he froze the castle and some people when he was a little kid (omg Elsa core???) because because his grandma had promised to eat with him and was late or didn’t show up due to her royal duties keeping her busy. It sounds like even the palace servants were afraid of his power because of incidents like this. Like. It’s kind of implied Malleus almost killed them (Lilia says Malleus almost “lost” those people) with his magic.

Lilia was the only one who came for Malleus to check on him when he was upset, dried his tears, and tried to understand him. He comes over and frees the people that Malleus froze, then everyone starts preparing and eating shaved ice made from the ice encasing the castle (not randomly, I think it was Lilia’s suggestion).

Malleus gets jealous because he saw everyone enjoying food without him and/or he thought Lilia was angry at him. (This is the point when Lilia tells him he has great power so he has to be careful how he uses it, ie the “you almost lost the people that you’re now happily eating with at the hands of your own magic” talk.)

Lilia uses his weapon to make some shaved ice for Malleus and invited him to join in (I think this may be the same weapon Sebek finds in his room in the present???); this helped Malleus “connect” with other people, or at least invited him to join and do the same thing the others were) It’s because of Lilia that Malleus is okay with eating cold things. UM???? HELLO???? Is that why Malleus’s favorite food is ice-cream??? Or at least a part of it?

BTW LONG HAir PONYtAIL LILiA CANON yes I’m way more excited about this than I was about that entire ice story

Yuu calls Malleus lonely 💀 and Malleus is shocked because he’s so used to being alone that the thought never occurred to him…

Oh no, Malleus learned that Yuu has “found a way home” (ie Rickey Rat hunting) 🙃 he’s like. “You are leaving me as well?” AND RIGHT AFTER HE JUST LEARNED ABOUT LILIA GOING… Lilia, who has been with Malleus ever since he hatched from his egg…

Friends, family… everything and everyone he cherishes is leaving Malleus. “Even if I have great power, I have nothing. I gain nothing, I always lose. No one will invite me, not anymore.” No Lilia, No Yuu 😞 Malleus, your abandonment issues are showing—

NAUUUR not more ominous shit 😭 Not the “man, I sure do wish everyone wouldn’t go :(((( if only there was a way for me to have everything I want…” coming from the mouth of a super insanely powerful magician…

NOOOOO not Yuu unintentionally enabling Malleus… He asks if there was a way to be with your loved ones forever, would Yuu take it?????? YUU DOnT SAy YES YOU FUQQinG IDIOT… ENABLER Yuu didn’t learn from Trey/j

MaLLEUS MY duDE 😔 DOn’T PULL ANY STUPID ShIT PLEASE (ie we all know he probably will)

Aaaand that’s all for now, folks!! Lots of sketchy lines and lore centering around grandpappy Lilia 🤡

Overall, I like the direction episode 7 is going so far! I was really worried that it would focus too much on Yuu and Malleus’s relationship rather than elaborating on Malleus’s relationships with the rest of Diasomnia, but I’m glad that the main story actually touches upon how integral Lilia is to his found family—and to Malleus, of course. A lot of interesting plot points have been set up (especially surrounding Mickey and Lilia), and I’m really looking forward to seeing how those conclude 👀 I feel like we also got spoiled with character lore; I love that time is a Real Thing in TWST and the the boys are aging and thinking hard about their futures. Can’t wait for the angst to hit me full force like a truck 💕

[three-realms-archive]

Beel is Anime

Levi is torn. Very, very torn about whether he should intervene with the scene happening before his eyes.

On one hand, what was happening was definitely anime-related. A laptop, a phone and some DVD-playing screen; all playing a different genre of anime. There was a now-empty Akuzon package on the floor with a receipt for ‘anime cosplay waifu makeup eyeshadow palette and brush set with manga kawaii sticker set’ taped to the top. The contents of said-box were laid strewn on the coffee table, being used by the last brother he expected to share his interests. At least, not without some limited edition snacks or a themed-cafe involved. Despite that, Leviathan’s heart soared! His little bro was finally seeing the light and appreciating the wonders of anime! Maybe they could cosplay together; eat at maid cafes together; read manga, have hotpot, and all the other things he knows families do from the stories he’s read or watched before.

On the other hand, his second-youngest brother, Beelzebub, was currently dipping his fingers in what looked to be makeup primer (from the bottle label) and putting it in… his hair? Like gel. Making a mess of the whole… whatever this thing was. Smothering foundation on his lips before outlining them in eyeshadow; fumbling with coloured contact lenses, only to stick them with… lash glue? On his eyelids???

The whole thing looked like it required at least twenty content warnings. Plus a message telling kids to not try this at home.

Suddenly, Beel turned around. Of course he did. He was standing in front of a mirror, and could one-hundred percent see his older brother’s mortified face in its reflection.

“U-Uh… B-Beel. Beel!” Levi couldn’t really decide on what to say. Or even what tone of voice to use. “Beel, uh… What, um, are you up to?”

“Bro.” The sixth-born nodded in acknowledgement. One of the eyelid contacts fell off as he did so. “Have I done it right?”

Levi gulped, his hands getting clammy. What was he meant to say? To any of this?!

“D-Done what, Beel?”

“Cosplay. I thought we could go to the upcoming Ruri-chan pop-up cafe together. So I’m gonna dress up like Ruri.” Beel announced, holding up his arms in a ‘T’ shape. He had painted the sleeves of his shirt. Levi’s eyes fell on the paint bucket by Beel’s feet. Literal paint. Literal, thick, still wet paint. It was so much worse than Levi initially thought. “I saw on a poster that if you cosplay as Ruri-chan, you get free dessert.”

Levi blinked.

“Y-You’re cosplay - this is Ruri-chan?”

“Yup. If I want to cosplay, I just have to be anime, right?” Beel shrugged. “‘I am anime.’ That’s what you always shout when you cosplay in your room.” He explains simply, still in the ‘T’ pose. Levi’s eyes go wide and he immediately flushes a deep red, holding his hands to his face and trying to hide behind his arms.

“WHAT?! How did you - ? Y-You weren’t meant to hear…! GAH!!!” He groans loudly in defeat, sinking to the floor with his head in his hands; any further words muffled.

“It’s okay, Levi. I get it.” Beel reassures fondly, reaching down to pat his brother’s shoulder. Levi’s embarrassed stammers turn to horrified shrieks when he hears a wet squish, realising that Beel had also put foundation on his hands, which now were rubbing it into his favourite hoodie. “The Fangol team does chants to hype up before big games, too. I’ll chant it, too - and you can rate it.”

… Levi sobs helplessly as Beel takes a deep breath, and opens his mouth.

_

Lucifer nods, satisfied as he roams around the House of Lamentation, passing by each door. After all the nonsense last time, he’s banned anyone from using loud speakers without his permission… And he’s also banned Beel from ever touching a paintbrush. His hungry, little brother seemed to be behaving himself since then, so all was good.

Or so he thought. He’s checked all the rooms, so he decides to reward himself with a nice, long shower before he has to head back to his study to finish off more paper work. It’s the only room he hasn’t checked, too; which was convenient.

Lucifer approaches the bathroom. He hears a mix of Beel chanting “Beel is anime!” and Levi’s horrified wailing. The smell of paint fills his nostrils.

… He leaves. That shower can wait.

(i will never get tired of this series. the usual: beel being adorkable and confused, lucifer being absolutely done, and horrible, horrible art. one of these days, i swear i’ll write lucifer being cool and suave and stuff. but today is not that day.)

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

The Caleb and Golden Guard Ghost or Illusion in For the Future is interpreted differently by fans and haters of Belos those who think he pure evil thought it was their ghosts haunting him for his sins while those who like him thought it was repressed guilt this has done nothing to help Belos’s reputation in the fandom and unless your chronically online those were illusions and to top it all off it was never mention again and Papa Titan dismissed him and some fans take his words as true. I think the Crew being vague on Belos Past and how sympathetic he is, is the main downfall of the show writing and one of the reason why Belos fans get bullied

I feel like that's just a problem with Belos in general; casual fans and those who dislike see him as simply evil and nothing more. But fans who were invested in the potential of his character and story obviously saw something more and the show was just vague enough to make convincing arguments that there was more to him.

It is extremely frustrating to have canonical facts such as the Wittebanes only becoming witch hunters to fit in, which has huge implications for their story and the themes of the show, only for that to never be mentioned again and for Masha to undercut their own story about how "little bro was jealous of big bro."

It feels like they're trying to have their cake and eat it too, by hinting at more subtle characterization only to ignore all that and have Belos act as their Generic Bad Guy Who Represents Societal Evils.

I don't think that the writing of Belos is the main downfall of the show, I think it's just a symptom of it. The show struggles with characterization by having characters not experience actual development but switching to a different character type. Eda goes from infamous criminal to Mama Eda but she doesn't spend enough quality time with Luz to justify the change. Lilith goes from intimidating head of the Emperor's Coven to history nerd who becomes besties with the resident joke character (let's also not forget how the show largely brushed aside the fallout of Eda's curse and Lilith having to share it just to atone). Hunter spends a few episodes as the Golden Guard and then he's Sad Boy Who is Abused. I've said before that the season 1 version (or first appearance in Hunter's case) of these characters are at their most interesting and unique but by the end, they're reduced to just generically nice people.

The villains, for better or worse, don't suffer this switch. They're exactly what they're presented as despite a few tantalizing details that would suggest otherwise. The end result is a bunch of characters who act as the plot requires them too, not because of actual character growth or dynamics.

On a separate note, I don't think Belos fans are bullied because his writing is sloppy. Even if he was more explicitly sympathetic, people would still find an excuse to harass fans. I think bullies just want to make people feel bad for engaging with media in a way that is different from theirs and no amount of "justification" can excuse that. People like villains, get over it. The kind of media and characters people enjoy usually has nothing to do with their morality. But how you treat real people certainly does.

[heybiji]

hi!!! i just wanted to say i really love all of your MASKS stuff. i'm something of a newbie when it comes to the TTRPG community, but MASKS seems to be not very well-known and i think that's a real shame. i'm a huge fan of old-school superhero-adjacent stuff, especially the silver- and bronze-age ones!

by the way, i was wondering if you'd be willing to share some tips for a first-time GM? you don't have to if you'd rather not! i just figured i'd try asking since i was planning on GMing a MASKS campaign for some of my friends later, but despite my decade's worth of roleplaying experience i've never been in a TTRPG campaign nor a GM (or similar) role before

Thank you so much!! I was just lamenting about how I felt bad for the MASKS tag because it is now flooded with all my npc nonsense hahah so this is really nice to hear.

It's awesome you're planning on running a MASKS game for your friends!! There is an indispensable post on twitter I saw that has a LOT of great tips for running MASKS that I recommend checking out. But for my own personal tips that are just me things, here's what I got. Sorry it's gonna be extremely long-winded, it may take a few months to read through it.

(Note: I am also hugely into RP and probably put more into it than what is necessary, especially with MASKS which is meant to be able to be played out of the box. It was definitely not played out of the box in our case because I require a lot out of myself and everyone else to feel good about running something. if anyone else wants to continue seeing me as a normal human being please don't click the Keep Reading)

Since you're running it, make the world interesting to you. If the world runs around themes you're personally interested in then you'll have a much easier time coming up with answers on the fly. For me, themes I'm interested in that lend themselves well to a superhero world: money, power, family, celebrity, media, the 24 hour news cycle and the desensitization of violence. Because I'm interested in this stuff anyway, wrapping a world around them makes it much simpler for me to figure out how the world ticks and thus how the characters fit into it and how the world reacts to them, and I am DESPERATE to find out how the characters react to all the questions and expectations the world is imposing upon them.

Make sure your players have a good grasp of the tone of story so they can make characters that gel well within it. For me the tone is a lil more adult because I'm not personally into younger morality tale stories in tone, it's pretty grounded, and I think comedy and tragedy work hand in hand so I lean into them.

Talk. A lot. Talk about the characters, talk about the world. MASKS is fun because it's a LOT of talking and figuring out the narrative together. It's not a lot of crunchy mechanics, it's all around seeing how the characters react to the world narratively, all hurt and comfort and emotions which (for me) requires people to have a good grasp on their characters and the world. I like to give my players "homework" where I ask them a question involving their characters in some way like "what hero did your character look up to as a child?" so they get to come up with past heroes, or "How does your character feel about _____?" etc etc. The only fans are gonna be your table and fans love to talk so be the biggest fans of the PCs!!

Figure out your framing. I know in MASKS they suggest framing it like a comic book, and basically talking about the frames on screen. For me, because I'm more into movies and tv than comics, I frame it like that. So I have an active "camera" in play during sessions and will ask things like "would anyone like to grab the camera?" to encourage the players to put the character into a scene or "what does the audience see as the camera focuses in on your character in this emotional moment?" There is a LOT of playing up to the camera and framing the sessions as episodes of a show, so it's like, okay, you have several options but what is going to be interesting for the audience to see? I find this encourages the players to have their characters take bigger swings and feel comfortable letting us into how their character is feeling because it all looks GREAT on camera. The camera loves it. The PCs are the story after all.

Because I frame it a show, I also like to play individual ending songs over the "credits" at the end of each episode. So I asked my players to make playlists for their characters so if I feel an episode had a lot of emotional focus on one character in particular, I can play one of their songs at the end of the episode! I also made a general MASKS playlist with a bunch of songs from the era we set it in (2004) to pull from. It's a fun little addition that I really enjoy and that I hope makes it all feel more special.

The Dino Donut Effect: create landmarks in your world. (OK THIS IS GONNA BE LONG BUT WORK WITH ME HERE) They don't have to be locations, more solid landmarks of the story that the characters can refer back to and lean on to make the world feel more "real." I call it the Dino Donut Effect because in our world the thing that made everything click into place was talking out the backstory of one of the PC's figuring out they had the power negation ability. We were talking one night trying to figure it out; we wanted the character to fall out of a building and be caught by a flying superhero and accidentally turn off their powers, so they toss the kid to another flying supe whose powers also get turned off. But we were like... holy shit what is the height of a building needed that can handle this much action in the air without them hitting the ground in 3 seconds. So after a long night of talking about terminal velocity and looking at Splat Calculators we figured out the height of the building, and we needed them to crash into something that wouldn't fuckin kill them. The first suggestion was a truck full of bananas. Nah. We landed on a giant balloon that could take the impact. And the balloon became a giant T-Rex holding a donut that was the mascot of the city's beloved decades old donut shop Dino Donut. And so we decided that one of the two flying supes grabbed onto the kid and the other and flew into the giant balloon to try and keep them all alive, which destroyed the balloon, which was a city institution, and there was a crowd of children there that day that saw their friend Dino Donut die. Killed by a superhero. The balloon deflated loudly so it sounded like Dino Donut was screaming in agony. All the kids were traumatized (screaming crying throwing up), the city was furious because everyone loved Dino Donut, it was constantly in the news cycle, and it ruined the career of the supe that "killed Dino Donut." AND THEN THEY REPLACED THE DINO DONUT BALLOON WITH A LAME "UPDATED DESIGN" DINO DONUT STATUE which everyone hates and people consider to be a memorial to the old Dino Donut. ANYWAY, the Dino Donut effect is that now all the PCs have one single incident to refer back to that they all have feelings about. A couple of them were there that day and heard Dino Donut scream, one is now the protege of the disgraced superhero that killed Dino Donut so she feels uncomfortable talking about it, there's the kid that was saved that day but was sworn to secrecy by the supe so no one would find out about his power negation ability, and then there's the kid that wasn't there because she's an alien that just arrived to earth and now the kids have to explain the incident to her with all their varying opinions. Now the PCs' meeting spot is at a Dino Donut. Having this one solid incident that is both funny and kind of goes into the themes of the world has been an absolute treat. Creating "landmarks" like that in the world has done so much and now I'm like okay I'm gonna try to do this moving forward with any other thing I run.

anyway these are my extremely specific to me tips. my RP standards are kind of high which makes me a bit of a terror but also when the flowers bloom from it it feels GREAT. i'm not sure if this will help but hopefully there is something there that can be useful!

MASKS is fun and simple once you get the hang of it, though, so I'm sure whatever you do you and your players will have a lot of fun! especially if you're someone who is into RP which is the background I'm coming from too; MASKS is extremely narrative! i'll be looking in the tag for your game hehe

(The Day Dino Donut Died art by JD)

[therhythmafterthesummer]

[23:26] ~Bang Chan

Pairing: Roommate!Chan x G.N!Reader Themes: Roommates to ??????, Fluff Warnings: Nothing much really. Pet Names? The MC is implied to be chubby/fat with not much focus on it. Mentions of anxiety. Mentions of eating. Belly fondling? These two have a Not-Thing going on, if you know what i mean. Barely proofread. Word Count: ~1k Summary: You couldn’t sleep, and desperate times require desperate measures.

Author’s Note: some simple fluff, for a change… been working on bigger pieces and i’ve been a bit overwhelmed with them… so here is a drabble i wrote as a little warm up… figured i’d post it just because~ (also i’d be lying if i said i wasn’t thinking of WereRoomies’ Chris and his girl while writing this… it doesn’t fit anywhere in the story i think, but my mind certainly drifted that way…)

Disclaimer: the story represented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

Sleep wouldn’t come to you. It was just one of those days. One of those where you did so much, where everything was so loud, so bright, your senses were in complete overdrive.

Your eyelids were heavy, your feet ached, and the ringing in your ears seemed to be louder than usual. Even then, sleep wouldn’t come.

You got tired of feeling your heart stammering in your chest, of your thoughts running wild and free within your exhausted mind.

Overthinking… Probably your best ally and your worst enemy at the same time, especially at times like these.

You tried your best to sleep, you really did, but it just wouldn’t come. So, once you accepted that fact, you just picked up your phone and started scrolling. 

And scrolling…

And scrolling…

And scrolling…

And of course, that only made it all worse. So you decided to break the glass on your emergency kit: Christopher. 

Throwing your covers to the side you sat down on your bed, blindly toeing the floor until you found your slippers. The floor was cold, and that had a shiver running up and down your spine as soon as your bare feet touched the tiles. You decided to ignore it, since you finally found what you were looking for. 

With your slippers securely in place, you made your way out of your room, dragging your feet all the way to Chris’ door at the other end of the hall. 

There was a faint, purple light coming from the crack underneath, it stuck out like a sore thumb in the otherwise dark hall.

Knock.

Knock.

There was no answer for a while, maybe a whole minute. It certainly felt like an eternity, to the point you weren’t sure if Chris heard you at all, but it was just as you were about to knock again that his voice came from the other side, signalling you to come in. 

Once you opened the door you were engulfed by the purple light, making you squint after so long in the dark. When your eyes focused, you saw him, hunched over his desk, typing at his laptop. He was shirtless, which made no sense considering how cold it was, but Chris was essentially a living furnace, so you weren’t really surprised at this point. It wouldn’t be the first time you’d be freezing and he’d be completely fine, he’d always tease you about it, but hopefully not tonight.

You stood by the door for a moment too long, just admiring his side profile–the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the length of his neck… It wasn’t until he turned his eyes away from the screen to look at you, with a soft, but tired smile on his lips, that you noticed you’d been staring, so you snapped out of it, blinking a bit and finally going into the room, closing the door quietly behind you. 

“What’s up, pup?” Chris brought his arms over his head, linking his fingers together and groaning as he stretched. You must’ve been really tired, since the sight of his defined muscles didn’t seem to affect you like it usually did, which honestly was for the better. He’d clearly been sitting at that desk for way too long–something that was, unfortunately, not uncommon. 

“Can’t sleep”, you yawned, covering your mouth with your fist only to finally bring it to your eye socket after, rubbing sleep from your eye. 

“Mm… I’ll be done in a few minutes”, Chris gave you a small smile, only returning his eyes to his laptop screen once you nodded in acknowledgement. 

The click-clack of his keyboard filled the space again, so you made your way to his bed–stone cold, you noted–and you tucked yourself under the covers, letting the sound of the keys and just the mere presence of your roommate to embrace you, to ground you. 

Because that was what Chris always did. Ground you. 

Whenever you were feeling like this, all anxious and filled with chaotic thoughts, Chris’ existence could simply ground you. 

You didn’t fall asleep, you were a bit more relaxed, though, which was a start. Eventually, you heard Chris moving, closing his laptop and groaning a bit once again as he stretched–or at least, you figured he was stretching, you couldn’t really see him, you were turned away from him, and your eyes were closed.

Chris left the room briefly, only to return a couple of minutes later and go through the motions of switching off every light in his room. 

Darkness enveloped you. You felt the covers being lifted, the bed dipped behind you, and, finally, you felt warmth.

Slinging an arm around your waist, Chris pulled you to his chest, and you all but melted in his hold. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back, his toothpaste-minty breath fanning your neck, and just his entire body heat wrapping around you. 

“You okay?” He asked all of a sudden, voice but a whisper. 

You simply shrugged, taking a hold of his hand and bringing it to your chest to hold it tightly against you. “Just tired”. 

“Mm…" Chris didn’t sound too convinced. He never did in these situations, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he moved his hand, bringing yours close to him behind you, and you felt how he pressed a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your hand. 

Returning your hand where it was, he hugged you closer, moving instead to press slow, tender kisses on your shoulder, raising goosebumps on his way. 

This wasn’t uncommon, either. Although it should’ve been. 

It only ever happened at this time, when you came to him with this problem in the wee hours of the night. 

Chris was touchy, cuddly, affectionate, he was at any time of the day. But this late, he always let his guard down, as did you, and you both always ended up here, sharing your warmth in ways that could be considered way too intimate for just roommates, just friends.

“Warm…” You mumbled all of a sudden, surprising even yourself. 

“Hm?” Each kiss lingered a bit longer than the other on your skin, each kiss moved a bit further up after the other, and Chris sneaked a hand under your vest top, finding your soft lower belly and slowly, almost absentmindedly kneading your flesh. The gesture always made you flush. 

“You’re warm, Christopher…” You replied simply, letting out the dreamiest–and possibly most pathetic–sigh you’ve ever heard. 

Chris chuckled softly behind you, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. “So are you, love…”

“Mmm…” You were turning to putty in his hands, between his tender kisses and his kneading hands all your worries seemed to be melting away, leaving only Chris and his touch in your mind. 

“You’re so soft, too… How are you this soft, baby, huh?” Chris emphasised his words by lightly squeezing your belly, making you smile.

“I like to eat… This… Renaissance body isn’t gonna… Maintain itself…” Your words were slurring, your mind was suddenly foggy with sleep, and you vaguely registered your ‘good night, baby…’

Just as you vaguely even registered Chris’ ‘sleep well, pup…’ right before you fell asleep.

Tagging: @raspbinniecreme @staaa96 @oiminho @dundullresident @honey-lemon-goose @carefully325 @lavenderxkies @starshine-moon @biribarabiribbaem @meowmeowhoon @100layersofdaddyissues @dearalice @alexis-reads-fics @xcookiemonsteer @knowleeknow @chanlovesme If you want to be removed from the list just PM me. If you want to be added fill in this form~

© therhythmafterthesummer 2023. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my stories.

Constructive feedback (or even keysmashes, really) is always welcome :)

[papaver-decervicatus]

Cat/Mouse/Den: Pt. 5, Royally Caught

While tied down in a cartel interrogation room, König is forced to his mental breaking point when a certain sniper makes an appearance. Is she a rat, or here to chew him free...?

CW: Obsession, stalking, canon typical violence, intrusive thoughts, unsanitary wound care, graphic mentions of sex trafficking victims, abusive language, mentions of sexual violence.

Author's note: Please notice that warning have indeed changed for this chapter! Nothing happens in the story, but many hard themes come up as intrusive thoughts. Please be weary of these and feel no obligation in reading if doing so would make you uncomfortable!

Ahhh, well well well... it's finally here. Originally the concept of this chapter came from this YouTube Video as inspiration, specifically Labyrinth by OOMPH! And it sort of... wrote itself? The title is supposed to be a play on the phrase "Royally Fucked" because I did not feel like using a swear as a title. Anyways, you'll notice from my headcanons on König that I believe working as an insertions specialist for human trafficking seriously fucked him up. I also believe that he typically does not act out violently against women. So... what happens when he thinks Mouse is doing the very thing he hates so much? Well, you will have to see!

This chapter requires some suspension of disbelief, but the inspo was taken from the El Sin Nombre mission in MWii. Mouse is in the cartel house, undercover at a party and in an attempt to take out her target she saw an interesting video feed....

I must admit, this chapter has my favorite single or one off lines. I am really proud of it, please enjoy! But be warned, this is unabashedly horny/desperate/angsty/and the pining goes fucking nuclear. Have fun!

Also, if youre into the fake interrogation thing, then next chapter stays good for you, especially if you want mouse in the hot seat...

❣️Cura ut Veleas ~ Caedis 🥀 PREV | Pt. 5, Royally Caught | 4.2k words | König POV | NEXT

König did not expect his Friday night to end up with him locked in a storage container turned jail cell in Mexico. 

Yet here he is. 

At some point while raiding the Cartel Mansion in Las Almas, or more appropriately, trying to open an exterior wall so that KorTac could raid it, he had been shot with a tranquilizer gun. The shot didn’t knock him out entirely, the dosage was probably not completely calibrated to his weight, but it was enough to slow his escape down. He got about two miles out before men in an armored Jeep jumped him. 

And he woke up, here, about three hours ago. 

Two hours ago he broke his thumbs in an effort to get out of his cuffs, but someone must’ve caught his plan because immediately afterward two masked cartel members came into his cell and stuck a syringe into his arm. When he awoke for the second time, there was a durable cord keeping his wrists together instead. Feeling around he could tell that the rope had been burned into itself, creating a lack of weak spots for him to abuse in escape efforts. 

His legs were in a similar position, chorded down thick and heavy to the legs of the rusty metal chair he was in. He was still in most of his combat outfit, save his vest, weapons, and any tools he had on him when he was captured. 

They’d kept the hood on his face and they hadn’t removed his helmet. This, to König, showed an extraordinarily eerie amount of understanding for his position within KorTac. None of his comrades would recognize him by his face, and judging by the multitude of cameras in the room, he was intended to be… recognizable. 

At first, anyways. 

This cell was, unfortunately, familiar to him. The layout of the cot, the chair, the metal table, the haphazardly soldered-in door and door frame, the holes drilled into the sides of the metal container, and even the rudimentary sink and toilet combo was something he’d become viscerally acquainted with. 

This was a typical Al Qatala human trafficking cell, specifically designed so that multiple humans could be chained up in one space without sacrificing the capacity for good camera angles. Typically, these were set up in storage containers twice the size of this one, but he doesn’t really have any room to be complaining about getting put into a non-standard torture chamber. 

His specialty was cracking these when he was with the Austrian Special Forces. His real calling in life, his one true hatred. 

Fall on the sword you forge, he thinks. The understanding of what will become of him in short order is horrifying. He’s one of the few people on the face of the planet who’s seen this exact routine played out for other prisoners of war, usually at the behest of desperate governments seeking his expertise in getting their soldiers out of such dire confines. He wrote the book on what happens in these situations, when it happens, and where the person ends up. 

They never end up alive. Prisoners of war are different from sex trafficking victims. In some terrible way, it’s almost better to be the prior because at least then you don’t have to live the rest of your life after what’s happened to you. Death is a shitty kind of freedom, but it’s freedom nonetheless. 

Of his 86 consults, only seven were successfully rescued. 

Two of those died in trauma surgery. 

The last five had been in custody for less than 24 hours, he had personally rescued that group. To his knowledge, they’d all recovered decently well. Their mental health, however, could be a different story. Not like he was allowed to ask.

He’s going over every possible route of escape when he’s shocked out of his plans. 

The door directly in front of him opens, and his dark cell erupts with sickeningly bright, white light. His eyes strain trying to adjust to the intrusion as he takes in the form. 

A silhouette stands in front of him, all soft edges of black, arms braced on either side of the door frame. The backlighting gives the figure an almost angelic quality, a soft and fuzzy etherealness blends outlines and light. It’s the telltale curves of a woman, of soft thighs, of ample hips, of a woman’s bust. Little strands of fluorescence peek through a crown of hair on her head. 

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this, meine majestät.” The cruel Angel hums, voice like forbidden fruit any man could be forgiven for falling for. 

“Maus?” He calls out, desperate and confused and ready to shatter. 

“Quiet as a.” She calls back, composed as if entrenched in amber and equally as unmoved by his predicament. 

He’s always wanted to get his teeth around her pretty neck. He’s always desired to have his hands around her waist. He’s always hoped to be able to pound down into her quaking form. He’s been desperate to have her underneath him since their very first chance encounter. These feelings have been constant since he heard her beautiful voice, but suddenly they’re not the same. 

Now he wants all those things, but instead of their motivation being love, it is bloodlust. 

And intense bloodlust at that. 

He’s never wanted to kill a woman, he finds it despicable that women more or less get turned into cattle during war. He’s sure that Freud would have something to say about his neurotic insistence on not harming the fairer sex even with his typical caliber of violence, but he’s never once cared to self-examine that. His entire military career, in fact, was dedicated to saving women and children from the horrors of a very male, very sexual world. Insertions specialist, yes, but specifically for human trafficking situations. 

Looking into his wartime paramour's eyes, the intensity of hellfire overcomes him. His entire world crashes around him. He’s breathing in debris and dust as comes to the terrible conclusion that this entire time, it’s been her that has been perpetuating the injustice he so hates. That it’s been the thing he’s romanticized that’s been the fall of Rome. That it’s his savior that’s really been the perpetrator all along. 

Perhaps the devil was once an angel, but to see his Angel for the demon she is? It breaks his heart into gory chunks of splintered bitterness and hacked arteries where once love pumped. 

Never in his life has he ever wanted to kill a woman, never in his life he had loved a woman so completely either. 

Those two ‘never’s die loudly and crudely in his chest as he recounts how to kill her most painfully in his own mind. 

For her now obvious position perpetuating his most loathed evil? For tricking him into loving her? For both and neither? He doesn’t know. He’s about two seconds away from frothing at the mouth like a rabid animal that’ll break its bones escaping a trap. He’s got nothing in his brain, just white-hot anger from the tips of his combat boots to the tips of his ears. 

Not even the outfit, or more appropriately the lack thereof, that she’s wearing can dissuade his anger. In any other circumstance, to see her in a black draped silk dress with hip-high slits on both sides and a full set of harness garters holding up sheer pantyhose would make him go feral. It would make him kneel, it would give him all the power to break out of these bindings on his own with no help and slam her down into the metal floor and have her right here. He has the desire to do all these things right now, but for all the wrong reasons. 

She’s taking something out from beneath her left breast as he recounts every thought he’s ever had about her and how foolish they’ve all been. He thinks that the only consolation he may ever receive for this betrayal is if he can crush her windpipe in between his teeth. 

“If you can get your teeth around it, it’s yours.” He remembers her saying to him in one of her flirtations during their secret radio romances. 

The phrase echoes rough and screeching in his head as he thrashes against the metal chair and restraints. He doesn’t formulate any words, he can’t, she doesn’t even deserve them, as she takes the lighter and cigarette she’s produced from her brassiere to her mouth. Her expression is unconcerned when she takes the flip-top lighter (that has a fucking crown carved into it, the audacity, his teeth clench and voice roars at the implication she’s been planning this for a long time) and its little flicker of brimstone to the end of the cancer stick. 

She takes a short drag and holds it between two perfectly manicured fingers. She’s gotten a little lipstick on the filter. 

“You don’t smoke.” That is all he manages to spit out. The only thought he can think of. Nothing makes sense and he’s liable to maul her to death over it. Her tongue darts quickly and sinfully across the filter, her eyes never leaving his. She tosses her stare towards him playfully, her hips swing wide as she waltzes closer to him. 

“No,” she says, as she takes another step towards him. Even in those ridiculously tall, faux leather heels meeting the tips of his combat boots, she doesn’t particularly dwarf his size. She's got the tips of her shoes to the tips of his, her stance is wide to accommodate the positioning. The edges of the stockings on her legs disrupt in wave-like patterns where they collide with the rough edges of his tac pants. He looks and thinks about how if his clothes were a little thinner he may be able to feel her warmth. He wonders just how long it would take her corpse to go ice cold, because she clearly does not deserve to be alive. He forces himself to look up at her and he thinks about clawing out her eyes. 

“But you do.” 

She reaches her hand towards his hood and strokes his cheek through the fabric. He snarls and snaps his head away from her, reeling from the touch he’s so deplorably yearned for. Her placid expression drops entirely as she sees his reaction. 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that his perfect little Mouse looked heartbroken over his refusal of her blandishments. 

He wants to rip her still-beating heart out of her chest for the sheer nerve to display that sort of emotiveness to him. That she acted like there was something there when there very clearly wasn’t. That she lied so thoroughly to him. 

That she made him love her when now he can see she never loved him back. 

She takes a shuddering breath in and makes a concerted effort to put her expression back into place, to impose some sort of divine rule back over her features. It’s strange to see her trying so hard when she’s obviously been such a good actor for so very long. 

“I just need some information, darling. No need to be so skittish, I brought you creature comforts for your cooperation.” She purrs, flicking some ash from the cigarette. “I know you could use a smoke right now, handsome.” 

The bile in his stomach flips at the pet names he would usually kill for. Pet names he’s never had until this moment. His two addictions lay in front of him, together, wrapped up in black silk, and the only thing he can think about is how much he wants to tear it all to shreds. 

Her hand follows his cheek to where it’s escaped her grasp. He is powerless to stop her as she rolls up his mask. 

To his surprise, she stops rolling it up just high enough to expose his mouth and leaves the bunched cloth on the bridge of his nose. He wants to scream at the tenderness of the action, she’s giving him as much of his well-loved privacy and solitude as she can while bringing him, an active prisoner of war, a fucking cigarette while wearing the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. 

The cruelty of it all had found the border of divinity and reality and ripped it open like C4 explodes plywood doors. There must be a God, and he must be in hell. 

She gets dangerously close, close enough for him to bite, and her hand with the cigarette makes contact with his jaw. Her sharp, black, fake nails trail from close to his ear, down to his mouth at a tantalizingly languid pace. She bends down and puts her lips a hair's breadth away from his ear and he is about to actually bite her neck to kill-

“I’m trying to get you out. Play along.” She whispers and flips the cigarette into his mouth. 

He takes a long drag. 

He feels the relief of nicotine in his lungs. 

He closes his eyes. 

He thinks about what she said. 

He doesn’t quite believe her as she takes the cigarette out of his mouth before he has to fumble to exhale around it. Her thumb traces the outline of his thin, scarred lips. Her eyes bore into his from above. 

She puts it back into his mouth. 

He takes a long drag. 

She takes it out of his mouth and puts it into hers. She takes a shorter drag. He doesn’t miss the way that she keeps all the smoke in her cheeks, not actually smoking it at all. A little taste of non flavored-wax sticks to his mouth from the lipstick and he wonders if she can taste his mouth too…

The takes the lipstick-stained tube out of her lips, taps it clean, and puts it back into his. 

He takes a long drag. 

She takes it back out of his mouth and wipes at his lips with the pad of her thumb. His brain is too busy switching between wanting to bite her thumb off and wanting to suck on it like a dog for him to decide what to do before the obtrusive digit has been taken away. 

“Sorry, big guy. Got some lipstick on you.” 

She retreats from his form and goes to sit on the metal table slightly adjacent to the chair he’s strapped to. She puts the still-lit cigarette to rest in an ashtray next to her hip. She also puts the flip-top lighter down. On the bottom of the lighter, he sees some engraving, but he can’t make it out from how far away it is. 

She crosses her legs on the edge of the table and the black silk she’s wearing all but flees off of the expanse of her now exposed thigh. She taps her fingers slowly on the metal, the pitter patter of plastic-press-on-nails on metal goes in time with his heartbeat. 

“Who are you with?” She asks, and he laughs. She knows. 

“Nein.” He responds. Is he refusing her, or this little game? He doesn’t know. She seems to understand, though, when she leans into his personal space and he has to fight the urge to look down her lack of dress and perfect tits-

“That’s no way to act after I got you a present, now is it?” She hums at the pulse point between utter cruelty and complete levity. He tests the restraints keeping his hands tied and sighs at the realization that they are still tighter than he can manage to worm out of effectively.

“I will not repeat what you already know.” He bites out. 

“Clever boy,” she smiles and he can’t help but think and hope that maybe this cruel Angel is being genuine, maybe she really does want to get him out of here. He murders the hope in his brain the second he recognizes what it is. “So tell me, what were you doing here?”

“You know.” 

“I’m afraid I do.” Her lips tense into a thin line and she looks down at her watch. She begins to swing the foot of her raised leg idly and-

She puts her foot onto the back of his chair right on his shoulder and oh my god her cunt is right next to my mou-

“Audio just cut out. I’m undercover here. Site goes dark for 2 minutes or less in 30 seconds. I’m going to pretend to interrogate you for a little while after we come back online to sell it. And then I’m out.” She warns, voice low and quick. 

Once again, he has to fight every electric cell in his body to not lunge at her and rip her clothes to tatters (and maybe her, the jury’s still out on her trustworthiness) as he breathes in the smell of fresh nylons and her cunt like a fucking dog. Not making eye contact with her panties is also a losing game, and it’s one he seriously wishes he had decided against playing because it’s a sheer black lacy pair, because of course it is, and he can very nearly make out the curves of her sex through it. 

“How do I know how to trust you?” He spits and blood flows out of his brain when he sees a tiny, minuscule amount of his saliva landing on her clothed cunt. He snaps his gaze back to her face. She looks rather smug and pleased with herself, he scolds his inner monologue when he dares to notice just how hungry her beautiful eyes look... He wants to wipe the smile off her face, through a kiss or through slicing it off with a knife, he’s not sure yet. 

“You don’t.” She shrugs and somehow scoots even the littlest bit closer to him. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here, if I was I’d have brought a little more stopping power.” Stopping power? What is she talking about? Her beautiful features soothe themselves into a giggle and Gott, she’s very pretty with eyeliner and lipstick on, the little vixen. I want to ruin it. 

“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it. Put your cheek against my thigh.” She laughs. 

Even if it’s a trick, König decides that if he’s going to die anywhere, it might as well be in between Mouse’s thighs in mere milliseconds. The throbbing in his pants also suggests that he’s probably forgiven her by now as well. He leans his cheek and feels cool metal hit it. He whips his head to look and tucked into her garter is a sizable knife. 

When he looks back to her eyes he notices dumbly that she must be able to tell how desperately he’s in love with her because she’s smiling something wicked down at him. Angels aren’t supposed to be cruel, but he’s forgiven anything and everything she’d ever done wrong in exchange for the expanse of her thigh and the promise of a knife. 

“If you can get your teeth around it, it’s yours.” She says with a smile like absolution. His mind alights with a terrible test of faith for her, with a truly awful proving method to try her loyalty to his rescue. He turns his mouth to the knife, and instead of taking it in his teeth, he takes her flesh in his teeth. 

She whimpers as he teeth attempt to gain purchase through the nylon of her stockings. He gnaws at them until he makes a little opening, and through it, he punches down his teeth until he’s sure he will leave a mark, but not draw blood. 

“Does that include you, mein Mäuschen?” He purrs into her now-exposed flesh. He peers up at her and he revels in the shock on her face. She shudders at his words and attention and something worse than pride finds a home in his hollow but newly hopeful chest. 

She doesn’t move her leg away and he hums in satisfaction at the gesture. Instead, she looks worryingly down at her watch. 

“You have 1 minute. Take the knife, keep it in your mouth under your hood, and give me 30 minutes to get out of here before you escape.” She says instead of responding. 

While realistically he knows that she doesn’t really have an option in leaving him, that it would be too dangerous to leave together, that they are still technically enemies even on neutral ground- he can’t help but be disappointed that his Angel intends on leaving without him. Even more so that she doesn’t seem to want to answer him when she made the rules in the first place. 

“Why are you helping me?” He asks, hoping for some clarity, for some tell-tale sign that this isn’t some weird horny fever dream he’s made up in his own little hell, worried that she will drag him back down from heaven and reveal that this, too, was part of the ploy to destroy whatever of him remained. 

“Because I know you’d do the same for me.” 

She says it without question but instead questions the motive. She says it like someone prays, like believing in the possibility of salvation but not quite sure how to get there. She says it like a guardian angel takes missions, unsure of her exact purpose but faithful in her understanding that there is one. 

The deep cavern of his obsession temporarily closed and covered by the implication of her treachery, widens and deepens impossibly as he smiles into the knife on her thigh. It’s just a knife, but she believes in him enough to offer her only protection to him, and she believes that it is all he will need to make it back to her on the field. 

He plucks the knife from her garter with his teeth. He tries to memorize her smell, her taste, the feel of her soft and plush skin on his cheek. It’s an intoxicating experience he isn’t quick to squander, but the implied hope that when not if he can get out of this she will be there waiting for him? That makes ending this warm-up worth it if it means he can get to the game and maybe, finally, win the prize. 

She retracts her foot from his shoulder and lets down his hood from his face. She leans in terribly close and whispers, “After 20 yards, take your first left outside the second retaining wall. There’s only two guards there, it’s your best shot.” He hums in affirmation and adoration and she sits back into her position on the table. She looks at her watch and gives a curt nod: the game is back on. 

She takes the cigarette back and draws the smoke into her cheeks and lets it flow out like a deadman’s soul floats to heaven, somehow rushed and languid all at once.

“We’ve been having quite the time trying to figure out your-“ he completely zones out whatever she’s saying in favor of watching the mark his mouth gifted her turn darker as the seconds draw on. It’s not like he could respond even if he wanted to, that would risk the knife she’s so lovingly gifted him into his lap and ruining the whole escape (and worse, endangering her.)

So, instead, he stares at her like the goddess she is. He burns the curve of her stomach between her hips behind his eyelids, he imagines resting his head there and kissing the smooth skin. He savors the way her ass flattens ever-so-slightly where it meets the metal table she’s sitting on, he thinks about holding her up by her ass alone and the plush yet firm give of her flesh. He drinks in the sight of her cleavage heaving when she emotes after a particularly loud question, he hopes what little he can’t see is the same type of perfect as the rest of it. Every once in a while he lets out a quiet huff around the blade in his mouth, in a vague response to something she’s said. Mouse gets “angry” in response, she even slaps him once or twice. 

He doesn’t mind. It’s all a waiting game, after all. 

König is many things, and a competitor is first and foremost. 

If Mouse knows where he’s staring for the duration of their play date of an interrogation, she doesn’t mention anything. With one last stinging (and dizzying…) strike to the cheek, she all but yells “Fine! Let’s see if you’re so tough after 8 hours alone in this hell hole.”

When she turns to walk out of the door she came in, König feels a part of his heart leave with her. He breathes harshly over the outline of the metal in his teeth as he admires the confident sway of her hips. He bites harder on the metal when she tosses a sympathetic look back to him and blows a fucking kiss. 

Sitting, alone in the dark of the converted storage container, he spends the most excruciating thirty minutes of his life occupied only with her phantom touch and his depraved fantasies. 

“Because I know you’d do the same for me.” Echoes in his head in time with his heartbeat, in time with his imaginary minstrations on her form, in time with what he is sure will be the death of him. 

That and so much more, he thinks when he finally, finally, manages to rid himself of his binds with the knife his Engel so graciously snuck him, 27 minutes after she leaves when some cartel member comes to check up on him.

König loses himself in the beautiful catharsis of stabbing the man who comes to fetch him so violently, that the blade to the knife literally snaps off somewhere in his bowels. He loots the cadaver for his gun and ammunition as well as another knife. He feels awful to leave one of her gifts discarded in the abdomen of some filthy cretin of a man, but he recognizes he really does not have much of a say in the matter when he hears the footfalls of his fellow cartel members rushing towards his location.

With one last sigh and a wayward glance to assure himself that he really did get his mouth around her and this wasn’t some dream, he prays in the form of bullets as he guns down anyone stupid enough to get in his way to escape. 

Be safe, my darling Maus. I will be back for you. 

I promise.

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