#maximum balloon

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Little clip inspired by Greg Williams and his vid of Daisy Lowe for Esquire. Shot in 2014 with @pitchkelly by me, Ben Everden

[fumifooms]

Marcille’s dress: threads and importance

This was supposed to be part of my upcoming Marcille & Chilchuck arc analysis, since it’s all about the themes of fantasy and confrontation with reality in Marcille’s arc, her mental state and fairytale coding etc etc, but that already was long af and this is something good to have as a standalone anyways, so. Here we go.

……….. So first of all it is 12 of august and suddenly my work phones are ringing to break me the news:

So this interview came in right when I was working on this analysis again. This now confirms the main intent of what the outfit was meant to evoke. There’s definitely a looot to look into just this and we’ll be going into it, but a complete analysis of Marcille & Momcille analysis would be ideal & that’ll be for another day. We will be bringing her up often throughout all this though.

So. "Why should I care about Marcille’s outfit?" Beyond possible story importance, on a metatextual and thematic level, analyzing imagery something provokes can be valuable and compelling even if it isn’t intentional or is flawed (historically inaccurate, etc). Less narrative wise and more character development wise, the lion does say the dress was to give her courage, and as her demon his job is reading her heart and giving her what she desires. What does her outfit say about her overarching character and her current mental state? Why does it give her courage, how does it do that, what part of it does that?

Like I just implied, when talking about this sort of thing, there are two aspects: the personal meaning something holds for the character, and imagery for the audience, which may or may not align with said character’s perspective or intent. Character vs meta. Because of the meta aspect, imagery can be disconnected from the character or the wider narrative, or that disconnect can itself be a tool to show the character’s mental state, unable to recognize or reconcile how different to their intent their being comes across as. This is to say that all of the analysis angles I’ll be bringing up in this post can apply to the same analysis of Marcille’s character and psychology, even all simultaneously. The different sections here are more or less ordered from most meta angle first to most character-motivated and strictly analyses of canon last, with little interludes examining specific aspects of the outfit regardless of reading. Imagery here will be looked at as a framing device, a way to comment on the themes and her character or her arc. For fun! Forward march!!

Table of contents:

Shepherdess: guidance.

Sorceress: power.

Princess: fantasy.

Funeral gown: mourning.

Mother: emotion, balance and identity. The conclusion ⭐️ Skip to here for strictly analysis of canon intent

Shepherdess

We’re doing an iceberg but I start from the bottom and make my way up, the shepherdess reading is the most meta one but it’s also the one I’m most interested in covering. It’s the longest section and the one with the biggest (only), um, history lesson. Feel free to skim if you only want the conclusions and not the reasonings.

Marcille? A shepherd? In action and wider imagery, the links are more or less straightforward (and will be discussed), but first I want to tackle the visual aspect because it was the most striking part of it to me and it’s the most complex one to explain…

The shepherdess look has been honed into a specific image in modern consciousness. There are always the same essential elements: a curved hook staff, a hat (often a kind that curls around the head), a poofy skirt for an elegant dress (wether fancy or modest), most often with lacing down the front and some cleavage. It’s of course not anywhere close to a perfect match if you compare Marcille’s dungeon lord outfit to pictures of shepherdesses, but it is very reminiscent. Nowadays, the classic hat of shepherdesses that Toy Story’s Bo Peep is emblematic of is indeed considered mostly a child’s accessory as well, halfway between a trimmed hat and a cap, has the shapes of a bonnet, so this coincidentally also lines up with the elven earmuffs as I’ll touch on later.

What

Wether or not seeing Marcille’s dunlord outfit will have reminded you of a shepherd probably depends decently on culture? I did research to get material for this and the start was real rough let me tell you— the only things I could find were… Bo Peep from Toy Story and illustrated nursery rhymes. In modern times, the image of a shepherdess, "shepherd woman that looks ladylike", is only a vague understanding we’ve gathered from the few woman shepherds we’ve seen in media that weren’t meant to be historically accurate. Myself, without Toy Story it’d only have felt like hazy fever dream memories of illustrated nursery rhymes from my childhood. It’s impressive that this concept still persists even if it’s only perpetuated through ONE character and a niche archetype, and for the word shepherdess to have had such a strong association with this look in my mind still.

Above: concept art for Bo Peep from Toy Story by Daniela Strijleva and Jean Gillmore, herself based on the nursery rhyme Little Bo Peep whose depictions are always in this style of outfit. Top right is a depiction of Little Bo Peep in a 1913 postcard, unknown artist, but if you want you can look up for vintage picture book depictions as well.

So what the hell? Where does this very specific look for the concept of a woman shepherd come from? Where does this conception, this specific shepherdess style wear and figure originate? Well the specific term that’ll get your research results is indeed "shepherdess". Art history time let’s go.

Okay so there’s no way those people were actually shepherds, right? What’s with that? To cut to the chase, turns out it’s mostly a trend that popped up in 18th century, one most associated with rococo but also with romanticism. Yes yes, a trend. The bourgeoisie deciding from hearing about the painted selfies of other ladies that dressing as fancy versions of poor people is hip. The new hit, becoming a dainty ladylike shepherdess for a day!

Artwork credits: In order, 1: Thomas Hudson (1701–1779) / 2: Arthur Devis (1712-1787) / 3: Jean-Honoré Fragonard (1750-1752) / 4: Sir Samuel Luke Fildes (1844-1927) / 5: Léon Sault (1839-1921) / 6: T. H. Lacy (1865) Some fun extra sources: Anecdotes: "Marie-Antoinette playing shepherdess", statues by John Cheere, Essays: Extravagance in revolutionary times: ladies of rococo, cottagecore through history, haven’t read this one but focuses on the shepherdess figure in 18th century plays and scultpures

Googling "ladies dressed as shepherdess" will give you a slew of 18th century portraits of, indeed, well-off noble ladies having portraits of themselves painted while dressed as "shepherdesses", well, the romanticized version of one anyways. I also found one from the 1650s. The trend also continued onwards, albeit less so once culture moved on. The word definition itself acknowledges this, unlike its french equivalent, as far as I know women shepherds are often still just called shepherds, meanwhile the shepherdess as per the Oxford dictionary: a female shepherd, or, an idealized or romanticized rustic maiden in pastoral literature. I don’t think I can do the explanation of the phenomenon’s origin and cultural context better than the essays I linked so I’ll quote:

"During the 18th century, an artistic movement known as Romanticism spread throughout Europe, seeking to evoke an idealized world of rural simplicity in contrast to the urban, industrialized centers of the cities. This nostalgic vision of a peaceful countryside was expressed through various art forms, including oil paintings and lead garden statues. The subjects of these artworks often depicted shepherds, huntsmen, and other rural figures, presenting an idyllic way of life, particularly for urban audiences." -Vizcaya Museum

"The cottage core aesthetic that people think and strive to attain, follows the ability of the wealthy class to be able to get away and take a break from the aristocracy and city life by escaping to the country. Marie Antoinette was an example of this, “… she had an entire hameau (rustic village) built as a place of leisure: it comprised meadows, lakes, grottos, streams, a dovecote, a dairy, cottages, vineyards, fields, orchards, vegetable gardens, and pagan temples. It was a fully-operational farm, where the queen would host social events. She and her entourage would “cosplay” as farmers and shepherdesses.” Marie Antoinette shows the “pretty,” the fantasy that people want, people want an escape from their reality. Cottage core is very different from one’s life, and the lack of knowledge of the true struggles of simple living, farming, and other cottage core elements makes people imagine and create a fantasy." -ZOESTAM1 (you’re a legend ty)

"Renowned for her great interest in fashion and more notably her extreme extravagance, Marie Antoinette set this ideal of the common shepherdess or milkmaid through her enjoyment of dressing in costume. She would often don the clothing of a dairymaid, a pastime that went so far as to see her commission the building of her own personal dairy at her palace Le Petit Trianon. These Rococo versions of lower class dress feature heavily in rococo painting such as in Fragonard’s The Shepherdess (1750-52), where a middle class woman is seen wearing a highly exaggerated interpretation of the dress of a lower-class woman. However, despite complying with the details of shepherdess dress it still features the expensive fabrics that are seen in images of Madame Pompadour. This interest in the pleasures of pastoral life shows the extent of the ‘myth and fairytale, festivity and fantasy, theatre and music’ that was epitomised in the paintings of the elegant women of the Rococo. The dresses made for and worn by the ladies of the Rococo are emblematic of the changes in society. The newly found ease of life for the middle class is seen in these images through the mythical landscapes, statues that appear to come to life and through the elaborate dress of the figures that combines a sense of the élite with that of the costume of common man. Wolfgang Menzel describes the Rococo in 1859 as a time that represented ‘empty and meaningless ornamentation’, a feeling that was certainly shared by the lower classes of Paris and one that was expressed in the French Revolution in 1789. The revolution sought to punish those of a higher class, meaning that figures expressed in the paintings of Fragonard, Boucher and Watteau would be guillotined within the same century." -Gabriella Sotiriou

To be sure, there have also been depictions of shepherdesses in history that were realistic and accurate, humble, commonfolk, both before and after this movement. There’s just this… Sweep in the 18th century that forever changed the aesthetic associated with the shepherdess figure in a part of culture.

So to summarize. Rich ladies LARPing as rural peasants for fun and portraits. From there you can easily see the throughline of how this very elite vision of a shepherdess would become the model for if, say, a children’s book illustrator wanted to design a shepherdess for a nusery rhyme, books which at the time would be luxury goods, the target audience noble little girls who should aspire to look as cute, elegant and well dressed as the shepherd girl in the book. Okay! We just have to get lost in the sauce a little more before getting to a full look and conclusion.

More fun context, in english the main shepherdess nursery rhyme is Little Bo Peep, don’t ask me how it goes I have no clue. But in french I could mention many like the nursery rhyme Il était une bergère (there once was a shepherdess) that comes from the 17th century, but the most sung one and the one I knew growing up is Il pleut, il pleut, bergère (it’s raining, it’s raining, shepherdess) originally from 1780. I did not expect this when starting to fall down this whole rabbithole going "Haha dunlord Marcille kinda looks like Bo Peep", but looking at that latter song’s wikipedia page there’s a whole thing there too. It was sung right after the storming of the Bastille during the very beginning of the french revolution in 1789— In which the opening lyrics, warning the shepherdess that rain is starting and a storm is coming, to "get your sheep, go home, and take cover"(though more poetically), became more goading than the original fairy godmother energy. The shepherdess here in this revolution context became the queen Marie-Antoinette, and the rainy storm is the french revolution brewing. It is said that that the author of the song hummed it at the gallows before being executed at french authority’s decree. We see then just how much the figure of the rococo shepherdess became a symbol with hated connotations and ties to rebellions.

So! The figure of the shepherdess is hazy to most people nowadays, but historically it was associated with excess, extravagance, classism, misused unearned power and the then-queen of France. It was both the ignorant and selfishly idealistic aesthetic that the queen wished to embody and that twisted the original commoner humble conception of a shepherdess, and the infamous image embodying her faults that was then used against her in mocking resentment and revolutionist sentiment. The representation of the fantasy world she created for herself with her power, and the ironic reminder of the real world she was exploiting and ignoring to do so.

You’ll notice the shepherdesses are typically blondes, especially in Bo Peep or more modern depictions. Marcille’s name is french.

What

… But all of that was just to inform on the topic before we got to the links and parallels that can be drawn between it and the story & Marcille, and to prove I’m not making up "the shepherdess look" in the first place. I already briefly went into visual similarities and appearance-related connotations (bonnet, rounded staff, dress with cleavage, lacing like a corset, poofy skirt, elegant and formal yet promiscuous undertones) in the previous section, so now I’ll be properly going into what this comparison can mean for her and for the narrative.

I summarized this section as shepherdess: guidance, and ultimately that’s what I think this focuses on best about her.

I do a quick overlook of her mom friend tendencies here (+ here) if needed, but I think we can agree Marcille often acts motherly through canon, not only fussing over her friends and coworkers often overbearingly so but also directly caring for them like helping them bathe, enjoying being able to do that for people she cares about (washing Senshi’s beard included). But also, often deciding herself to adopt a sort of wisdom-imparting dynamic within a group or relationship where she knows what’s best for others better than the individuals concerned do, where she’ll scold or push others out of their comfort zones as if she’s doing them a favor (Chilchuck), where she’ll talk in a holier-than-thou tone about a topic (often an academic or moral one), that classic long lived race condescension as some characters put it.

So isn’t the figure of a shepherdess, one who cares after sheeps, one who directs them in a direction she chooses and watches over them grazing the grass as their protector guardian and guide fitting? Isn’t that what she figuratively wants to do, obtaining unfathomable power to shape others’ lives quite literally even to the point of changing their lifespans regardless of their thoughts on the matter, being a figure that chooses for them and keeps them safe as someone who knows better? A bundle of good intentions and genuine care, but still patronizing and robbing them of their freedom of choice. I’d argue this is a large part of her arc with Chilchuck, and even for her dynamic with Izutsumi! Looking at Marcille saying farewell to Izutsumi near the end when she thinks she’s going to prison, it’s easy to wonder about how this is the same Marcille who once refused to trust Falin’s judgement and choice to be with her brother, thought she shouldn’t be away from her and what Marcille decides to allow and not allow for Falin’s career— the same Marcille who here in tears with Izutsumi is telling her to take care of herself as she leaves to travel alone, trusting her to make choices for herself by herself and supporting her in it even through her heavy emotions and the grief and loss she’s already anticipating, but learning to accept.On a more literal parallel level, in this last arc she commands an army of monsters at her will effortlessly, making them march towards the surface and then into battle. Sending out orders through her hands, words and staff like a war general, ready to choose to change the world to fit her wishes.

As to what feelings dressing like a shepherdess could quell, I think it’s a way for her to reaffirm her goals and feel certain in them. Her friends she respects just told her that her lifelong goal of extending everyone’s lifespans is a pipe dream that could do harm as much as good, and even though she ignored her it did shake her, it is after that and just before the upcoming battle that the winged lion deems she’s in need of a morale boosting wardrobe change. Marcille feels more directionless and aimless than she should, so the winged lion gives her an outfit that reaffirms and steels her goals, examplifies her motherly and controlling instincts and validates them, encourages them. Wouldn’t a shepherdess figure make sense then?

The fakeness aspect of the shepherdess fashion also reflects how she’s not fit to be a proper dungeon lord, as that requires maintaining an ecosystem that she doesn’t have the knowledge, experience or will to manage. She’s a shepherdess in looks and has the power to command people places, but she doesn’t have the hands-on farming experience that is needed to make a dungeon lord a competent one, a good gardener so to speak. Marcille has high academia knowledge of dungeons but when it comes to basic care that’s more in line with farmer experience, she’s largely stumped. She lets herself be moved by aesthetics rather than practicality, like with her spiders and her coatl.

If we put the history of the shepherdess figure in context with her arc, she wants to mimic the look of a folk hero, while still being privileged with power she can exerce over others. It gets to a key trait and arc theme of Marcille: romancitization. Which is in big part tied to her idealism, and that idealism often makes her more resistant to accepting things, but now I’m getting ahead of myself.

(Ironically, as we’ll go over in latter sections) This can also reflect how Marcille’s mother was an elf, presumably from high elven society from her elegance, court etiquette and magical skills- (meaning she likely got a good education), but moved to a tallman region feeling its culture less stifling and more fun, prefering its food and clothes etc etc. She’s still court mage, but to elven society being part of a short lived race’s court is a downgrade from being part of elven society at all, so here the "noble willingly becoming "lower class" because they find it pleasant or fun" is fitting. (Not an actual critique of her choices or morals whatsoever, just an observation.)

Marcille is not seemingly in touch with her elven culture. The dress tallman fashion, but the earmuffs would be elven, perhaps denoting the wrong or fully romanticized usage of it. Like meshing two things together that clash— in-world in this case cultures, but here in context it’d be class, and as we’ll touch on later in another section, identities.

Marcille also grew up around in a rural region surrounded by "books and chickens", so it’s not like a rural identity or a relationship with farm animals is fully irrelevant or separate from her as a person. The chickens make the egg imagery Marcille uses to explain souls in the same body and in some art extra interesting.

Like mentioned, shepherdesses also obviously have an association to lambs and goats especially. Which is fun not only for figurative parallels like her leading the monsters and everyone like lambs to slaughter into war but also how the demon has been shown as a goat and a sheep before. In a way though, Marcille is the lamb innocent as she is and the demon is the shepherd. After all, Marcille’s dress even has some animal-like features, fur all over including her ears and even a tail. The dress is not only to make Marcille feel more confident, but to distract Marcille from having second thoughts and self-doubt that could make her think better of being a dungeon lord, like she ends up doing after talking with her party in the tower. The demon takes on forms to lure in his victims, as the adventurer’s bible puts it forms that make his victims trust him. At his very beginning, he would take on the form of food and offer himself up for eating. Similarly, I think it’s interesting to consider the dynamic between Marcille and Winged Lion as one where he presents himself as a servant, as the one guided and ordered and not the one pulling strings and walking her like a sheep to breaking him out of the dungeon. You could also mention how the sheep form the demon has taken before is when he was traumatized in a way— The time all humans died around him that made him live in loneliness for what’s implied to be quite some time, the time when he reconsiderd his whole approach from people pleasing towards cunning and control.

Tldr: - History makes it a good comparison for aesthetic-obsessed well-off people who want to play folk hero while actually being selfish or misguided, it’s a paradox of a humble station represented by unattainably expensive fancy flourish and frills. - Marcille herself is of rural origins where she interacted most with books and chickens. She has a taste for over-the-top aesthetics and dresses (not as much as the golden kingdom’s people, but enough to desire her dunlord dress) and novels, and she is a mom friend type, caring after others (in bathing and dressing and healing and comforting and guiding) - As a dungeon lord, the way she commands an army of monsters in perfect synchrony with shepherdess-like staff in hand makes the shepherdess comparison very literal. The demon having been notably a goat, a sheep and maybe even a lamb in the past also makes this imagery more compelling and fitting.

This angle shows Marcille wanting to take on the role of the shepherd, the lighthouse so to speak, the mother that guides the people whom she wants to change the life & world of for the better. They need only follow her lead and they’ll be shown how great their life could be.

Where does this imagery fall? Definitely all meta and not in-world, this is for the audience and has no in-world acknowledgement whatsoever. Again. I know this was kinda insane, this is the most wild and meta section of the post like I mentioned and like I implied I don’t even personally think it was intentional on Kui’s part honestly! But as art doesn’t exist in a vacuum, even when there’s no intent, imagery can bring an interesting and relevant framing, angle or flavor to the original text. A lot lines up well and there are small coincidences, but again I am not saying Kui intended Marcille to parallel Marie-Antoinette help. Isn’t it kinda neat though… Just a little bit…

Okayy so things are calming down from here on out we’re cruising guys

Interlude: earmuffs, elven but childish

It was important for me to get a groundwork analysis done for the earmuffs before going into the next ones. This interlude has a focus on supporting the shepherdess section with comparisons, but I want to take a moment to focus entirely on elven earmuffs, their connotations and existence as an in-world fashion accessory, and thus environmental context for how Marcille may see them.

So, if we go back on the shepherdess for a bit— The shepherdess fashion had a hat iconic enough for it to be called the bergere hat, but the type that’s more associated with them nowadays is the type that Toy Story Bo Peep wears, which is a bonnet.

To me it’s intuitive to say that elven earmuffs are very alike bonnets, even in cultural context. I recommend browsing the wikipedia link I put for the pictures. It used to be very widespread and popular headwear, and to be fair probably still is even though not fashionable much anymore. It used to be, though, fancy pretty laces and this and that were put on it and trends were made of it. A type of bonnet especially has become emblematic of the shepherdess look, like mentioned.

The elven earmuffs are subject of discourse within the fandom and the biggest reason is the age connotation they have, and I do have to say it’s less strict in practice than people like to say. Kui not only keeps herself from explaining the social perception of them in a categorical end-all be-all way, but we also see a range of earmuff designs worn by adults in the doodles. We see that adults can and do wear them even if we don’t have much coherent context for it, and perhaps more importantly we see it implied that there is a market for earmuff designs especially with the fashion of it, which solidifies there are customers and adult customers for them.

Similarly to bonnets irl, it might feel weird to see an adult or anyone wearing it, but it’s not like it’s illegal or strictly reserved to some kinds of people. Rather, it’d be embarrassing, like the elven bonnets in Dungeon Meshi. It covers ears while still looking and feeling dainty, often accessorized and designed with lace or ribbons. It’s very strongly coded with babies and was very popular across baby dolls, ads, etc, though it’s starting mostly considered vintage nowadays. Though these are associations so strong that for example in Alice in Wonderland, the original book like the 1999 movie, when the baby gets transformed into a pig, understanding that the pig is the baby and A baby remains smoothly because it keeps its bonnet. It helps sell it.

(And if we’re referencing Alice in Wonderland while talking about Dunmeshi, psst, look up the chapter cover for chapter 64, rabbits 1)

Beyond babies the traditional simple bonnet is associated with rural people especially women. I do not want to sound like a bonnet expert because I am not— but from my understanding it does make sense if in occident rural people are the majority of who still wears them to this day. One reason being that more isolated less rich regions tend to care about being trendy less, and expectations on dress differ from region to region of course— And that’s a point I want to make about elven earmuffs, because I do think especially in colder regions like Kui mentions they would be more widely used and considered commonplace for older adults like perhaps the ones in the doodles. Just like how gnome hats go in and out of fashion constantly, Kui does have a good grasp of how fashion can be treated and coded amongst people and groups. It’s earmuffs for a culture Marcille isn’t fully in touch with, so it could take part in reaffirming Marcille’s identity and belonging in it, wether or not she knows all of what it implies. Like said, in the pages we see seemingly earmuffs high fashion for adults. It’s something young teens and young adults are said to be culturally ok to do, and people do generally like to look young so, it could be part of the cute hip young woman look. Would it be thematic for her to wear childish outfit? Yes, but I honestly can’t see it bringing her "courage" much if that’s the main intent. We’ll talk about it more later though.

Some do say that historical fashion is Kui’s weakness so to speak lol, and I’m not one to disprove that. Again, I can’t claim to know what Kui intended or didn’t intend to do and where she got inspiration from consciously or not.

Sorceress

Okay okay okay my enthusiasm for explaining historical/trope meta sorta started and ended with the shepherdess let’s get this done. I am interested in laying the groundowrk that I’m not making shit up in pop culture and for that I have to build up context so we’re all on the same page, but this is just what it says on the thin. If you want a recap of tropes surrounding black magic sorceresses and how they look beyond the minimum, here’s a couple relevant tvtropes pages: Evil Wears Black, Evil Costume Switch, Evil Sorceress, skimpy villains. More interestingly, you could argue that Dungeon Lord Marcille apparents herself most to the vain sorceress, even though what she would like to be is closer to the lady of black magic akin to her mother’s demeanor, and meanwhile the regular Marcille we know and love acts most like the black magician girl. The latest I would have never guessed existed is a trope of a spunky outgoing girl deuteragonist who’s gifted in dark magic and it’s honestly really fitting, which I find a really on the nose coincidence. This is still optional, beside the points I’m about to make.

Marcille, like Chilchuck, is concerned with reputation and social perception. Beyond other examples of it, there’s how Marcille prefers to let other people believe she’s a full elf and how Thistle’s shaming affects/embarrasses her — her reason for not being upfront about her origins socially not being shame but that it’s a hassle to explain and deal with, the questions and judgement and differential treatment, but moreso!!! There’s how similarly, she’s not ashamed of her dark magic research & knowledge, but she avoids talking about it. She knows it’s a touchy topic and kept the main topic of her research a secret for 2 years of working together. It only came to light because it was absolutely necessary to save Falin. She knows the reputation of dark magic and readily fires off counterarguments to Chilchuck talking shit about it with quick practiced ease.

But now as she becomes a dungeon lord and the canaries know everything and they’re are after her, there’s no more hiding or pretending or deflecting. She embraces the reputation of dark magic and her academic identity fully with an outfit that screams "I’m a black witch" and wears it like armor.

This is more in line with what the people who don’t know Marcille were framing her as during her dungeon lord stint, Marcille’s in-world image at that time, the same way Thistle became known as the mad mage with time. Evil sorceress. Dark witch. It’s the epic villainess look. Mixing Maleficient with a D&D seductress look. It does a lot of skin especially for Marcille, off the shoulder sleeves, a line of skin showing from inbetween her breasts to her navel, a skirt cut like Rin’s dress... The deadly sin of lust in french is the word for luxury— lust is desire but it’s for as money or power as much as sexuality.

Unlike with the shepherdess there’s less specific boxes to check. The main’s color black or at least dark, there’s magic (preferably black or forbidden or cursed) and the outfit’s feminine and elegant and a dress? You got the winning recipe. Then there’s extra boxes like having a fur or feather trim, having a magic staff, long sleeves… If you want examples beyond literal Maleficient, I’d google for sexy sorceress halloween costumes lol. Google also showed me some AI art that’s exactly what I’m talking about whole looking those up and that sorta drives the point that this has become a vague but striking figure. We’re not operating with poofy skirts here, that’s for the kooky villains. But the length of the skirt and the vibe is right, and fur and especially feathers aren’t unheard of tacked onto their dresses, which ironically Maleficient both wore in her important 2014 movie, funnily enough the year Dungeon Meshi’s serialization started. Though, especially with her barefootness it also gives her a of… Lost fey witch vibes more than dark sorceress, depending on how you see it.

Oozing maturity makes you feel in control. It makes you feel adult and powerful and independence. This is also very true for the mother section later on, but here we focus on the confidence aspect and less the assurance, if the distinction makes sense— Confidence coming from within yourself and assurance coming from an external source in this case.

"Fumi you’re saying Marcille wanted to look like an evil sorceress?" No! But unconsciously or not she’s drawing on these vibes. She’s done hiding and she’s done hiding the topic of her research and what she’s ready to do to succeed, the extent of her determination, her "dark" magic, that very term she’s been fighting against. She’ll wear a dress that reflects that and gives her confidence in pursuing what she wants in plain sight. It’s relevant for this to remember that Marcille getting her dunlord makeover is soon after she had a conversation with her friends who tried to talk her out of her biggest trauma and purpose and want, even laughed at her goal, and juuust before a huge life or death battle. She laid it all out bare and told the full story and the full truth and argued a bit, and now she’s sent them away for a time while she does her dunlord thing and bam here’s your confidence dress my queen. You’re scared about the canaries? You just need a fit to remind you you’re strong and kick ass. You know, because you’re a cool mage with convictions and nothing holding you back anymore and also you’re hot and in control.

She has power now, the demon even referring to himself as it, Power, and she’s going to wield it. Feels confident in seizing and using it— momentarily.

Is this angle character or audience focused? I do think both, because yes these powerful vibes would make her feel confident like I went over and theorized, but definitely a lot relies on an audience level. It’s our official sign, to both us readers and to Laios’ party explaning their reactions lmao, that "oh she’s truly lost it". This is her dark evil wardrobe change. We see her get her goth makeover and we know she’s gone to the dark side. Jojo Siwa moment. (Sorry)

Interlude: fur, luxurious but monstrous

Ok what’s up with all the fur on her skirt and sleeves and the furry ears though. Why a poofy fur dress. We’ve never seen Marcille show interest in fur lined outfits or such before. At most, there’s her trying out the golden kingdom outfit, with its antlers and leopard pelt uhh lointcloths? Which- that is a point to make I suppose lol, gave her a taste of bold high fashion. Her dress is pretty out there as the character reactions hint. Here’s even someone from reddit comparing it to Cardi B’s 2024 met gala dress! If you go back to the earmuffs pages, there’s one ear design with something that looks like fur too. More seriously, fur has long been a way to show class and wealth, because they’re expensive, especially on garments that are meant to be not just practical but pretty.

Quoting @room-surprise : "Costume design wise, the gown just screams class and wealth and power, like as a costumer when I saw it I immediately went 'evil renaissance queen on her way to war'."

But, especially the furry ears, for a manga about monsters that feels quite on the nose right? As revealed by the official dunlord Marcille acrylic stand pictured later in the post, she even has a tail. It definitely represents that her opinion on monsters has shifted imo. Like, it could be just visuals but then that defeats the psychological look into Marcille that the outfit gives us, it could just be a nod to who’s really in control or aesthetics, but I do feel it shows how Marcille has grown less repulsed of monsters. Let’s remember what Marcille said about eating monsters in the barometz chapter, that even if it isn’t logical she has a fear that eating a monster means taking something bad into herself, that it’s dirty and corrupting. Marcille, who takes horror in knowing that fertilizer aka poop has been used to grow vegetables that she then ate. She’s always had a bit of disconnect with ecosystems and the cycle of life so to speak, foiled by Senshi, she wants to defeat death and she doesn’t know how to balance a dungeon because she has trouble tending to ecosystems unlike Falin, she sees them like math when she should see it all as organic living balance. So in the end, it can either show that her mental state is so unstable for her to have been reduced to such a state alongside her barefootness, or on its opposite that she’s accepted the important place of animals and monsters more in the world, that she doesn’t see them as dirty anymore, or even that she likens herself to them. Maybe she’s become a bit of a monster herself, after all, because the dungeon does corrupt, the dungeon devours like how its structure was once compared to a digestive system by Laios, because if the demon isn’t a shepherd and Marcille isn’t a sheep the demon is still who actually has control over everything in the dungeon including the monsters, despite wanting to make believe it’s the dungeon lords who do, because the dungeon lord is a puppet of a demon, just another one of its monsters, its creatures in its guts.

Princess : fantasy

This is it this is the moment. I reworked my post structure after the interview but this was originally going to be the last angle explored after funeral gown instead of before it, this is also the angle that’s most important to my Marcille & Chilchuck analysis. Dungeon Meshi has some fairytale and princess prince royalty knights etc etc imagery and this is a continuation of that in a way, topic for another day though.

As we know Marcille is someone who loves aesthetics, she loves novels and pretty things and idealizing and romanticizing, and this can be seen as the core of the outfit to her. If her situation feels unsettling, it can be fixed by a change in framing, by an aesthetic by an angle by a cool look. Something that inspires and makes the situation feel less alarming, positioning herself as the protagonist rather than the villain. It was given to her by the Winged Lion when she started being more anxious to the battle that is to come, it has the goal to make her more confident but in this context very pointedly the goal to make that self-doubt go away— to keep Marcille from thinking about her situation some more and realizing she may be on the wrong path, it’s to isolate her in her dungeon lord world as part of her role, it’s to keep her in that malleable unstable state and encourage her to chase fantasy and stay in her own bubble of makebelieve. Do you follow me? It’s "don’t think about the stakes, don’t rethink your goals, what you’re doing is right and you should keep going however you want to", it’s "you don’t have to face reality, I’m here and now your dreams are the reality that matters". It’s fantasy.

It’s an epic poofy dress that makes her look cute yet cool. It’s the imagery of a princess in a tower. Calling out to her from beneath a balcony, overseeing her army and her kingdom. A princess dress not unlike the one she felt embarrassed in in the Golden Kingdom, where they talked of prophecies and kings, and wanted to be complimented in, to laughter and dismissal. And even though those things feel more disconcerting in real life than it does in stories then, becoming dungeon lord is good at blurring the lines to the point you can’t tell your doppelgangers of loved ones aren’t the real thing, and the Winged Lion chose her so that has to count for something, she was chosen.

If the princess imagery is left unnoticed by Marcille herself, then I definitely think it was meant for the audience to some degree. If not the poofy dress and heroine status alone, then the tower imagery and the balcony scene. The tower and the princess, the dragon, the knight, the prophecized king, the witch, the monster army, it’s all very reminiscent of fairytales like I mentioned. The balcony thing is a classic play thing though like that is Romeo & Juliette imagery right there, calling out to her from beneath a balcony?!! Aladdin too, Rapunzel, heroes and princes climbing towers to come see and save princesses.

This is the point that is most related to her love of novels and dalclan. Romanticization may be the name of the game for the history behind the shepherdess outfit style, but then fantasy would be the princess’. It’s also about twisting your current situation into something positive despite everything, but Marcille wasn’t that far gone yet, just struggling, framing and aesthetic still subtly help sell it all though. But if there’s something that’d make Marcille feel more confident and ready to do something, hype herself up or give her a twinge of comfort outfit wise, it’d be one that makes her feel like a princess.

Interlude: black, solemn but gloomy

Short one because it’s very straightforward but black is traditionally associated with evil and death, etc etc. Because of the former it’s often associated to powerful malevolent figures like villain sorceresses, but because of the latter irl it’s widely the color of funerals. It’s also cultivated this connotation of elegance, this sleek clean look both in modern and noble contexts, it’s very much this image of cool and ushakeable composure. Interestingly, we can’t 100% tell because mangas are in black and white, but black seems to be Marcille’s mom’s color, what she always dresses in.

Funeral gown

This was the most popular reading by the fandom before the interview and with good reason. As we got the confirmation, it’s nudging towards the intended one! It argued that the dress is a funeral gown, because her mother wore dresses like it and because of its black color, meanwhile the childish earmuffs are because her mourning her father happened when she was a child, because she feels frail etc etc. In her state with her current worries she’s feeling thrown back into her childhood, not unlike Thistle’s weird ambiguity there, feeling helpless just like then except now she has power to change it and a devil on her shoulder telling her all she has to do is affirm herself and take it.

It’s externalizing her trauma and validating it in turn, offering some catharsis and reminding her of her goal, defeating death so she never has to endure loss again.

As you may notice, both their outfits here are fur-lined too, so the amplification of that in her dunlord dress may be similar overcompensation to how she made the dress very revealing.

Interlude: barefootedness, filthy but earnest

Bloodstained bare feet no less. From what I can tell this is a direct callback to her being barefoot when resurrecting Falin. Again this could be a way of reminding herself of her goal and reminding herself all she’s accomplished, but it’s notable that Falin’s resurrection is something that made her feel very guilty and indecure because of how her becoming a chimera turned out. Maybe more about reminding her of what she has to fix and that she can’t give up on her goals including Falin.

Beyond that it’s interesting too though! Prim and proper Marcille who cares about her appearance and pouts at dirt just walking everywhere barefoot like nothing can hurt or bother her. There’s a sense of her being messy as a dungeon lord, her hair isn’t in an updo and looks unbrushed, she’s in a weird uncharacteristic outfit in a questionable mental state and she’s barefoot on top of it all. It also recalls a sense of vulnerability of course, reminding again an unstable mental state or showing desperation or how naked she might feel. Inversely, it can be more about acceptance, like in the last interlude we talked about knowing your place in the ecosystem and feeling secure in accepting it. Walking barefoot is to bare your skin to the ground, to walk knowing they’ll get dirtied and not minding it. Did you know humus and humilty are from the same word root?

In the end, it gives both ethereal forest fairy vibes and also poor little orphan vibes. Victorian sick child, especially when she gets carried by the winged lion all overwhelmed too haha. Very much gives her out of touch vibes, even if the bloodstained look is powerful. She’s willing to get her feet hands dirty to do what must be done.

Mother : balance

I turned this section into an excerpt post as well, here’s a link, serves as an essier to share highlight + allows me to put in more pictures since we hit the limit here…

Kui: "I just combined [a dress like what] her mother liked and [earmuffs] which are considered a little bit childish."

See what it’s doing here? Kui combined a dress from her mother with a hat for children, adult dress vs childish hat. Adulthood vs childhood. Mother vs child. It’s also notable that the dress is tallman fashion while the earmuffs are elven. Again she’s combining those distinct things into one. It’s about emotions and maturity. Stability and instability. Growing & potential vs having grown & knowing yourself. It’s about her cultures and expectations and how can she possibly keep up with all of them, like the genius child she was portrayed as? It’s duality it’s conflict it’s being pulled in opposite directions. It’s about identity.

Marcille wants to have all the answers and wants them all already, she already acts like she has everything figured out more often than not, when it comes to ways to harvest mandrakes or her image of Falin and Chilchuck and orcs or her rigid sense of ethics, but the story does show that she had growing to do, plus her main goal beyond keeping her friends safe and near her is that pursuit of knowledge for what she doesn’t yet have answers for— rewriting the laws of life and death. But, as we’ve all been told before, death is simply a part of life and we have to make our peace with that one way or another. Like Marcille says in the last chapter, this was in large part the lesson and arc she’s had to go through. A lesson that Marcille’s mother has learned herself, one that she has accepted and tried to pass on to her daughter, which didn’t work and kickstarted Marcille’s pursuit of extending lifespans. Marcille has to settle with uncertainty, with knowing life can end at any moment and knowing this is who she is even if the world has no answers for her as to what that means, she has to come to terms with ambiguity and inbetweens.

Marcille’s relationship with her mother is very interesting because it’s shown all in very small moments and implications, but we do see that Marcille’s mom is arguably her biggest role model. She’s the one who shows up in Marcille’s nightmare about monster food early on, she’s who told Marcille she’ll have to bear loss througout her life due to her lifespan, Marcille wears a choker like she does, it’s debatable that Marcille mimics her demeanor to seem more elven and dignified, in Marcille’s true nightmare she hides behind a portrait of her, she was the only living elven role model Marcille had around. Mother, who didn’t let grief of her husband rule the rest of her life, having even remarried, mother, who’s a court mage, mother, who pursued a life she wanted even if it cost her a lot. And we do know being an elf is important to Marcille! She seeks to conform to elven beauty standards rigidly, both in gender presentation and things like facial hair, and she’s masked as one since she was enrolled in the magic academy, as far as we know her first time away from home and her first big period of social contact since she isolated herself with chickens and books when she was younger. Books like the daltian clan, with an all elven cast except for the one half-elf she deeply related to.

Marcille’s bangs are also half down and half cut. Before she had to cut some hair to make familiars, long bangs were what Marcille wore for years, meanwhile in all of Marcille’s childhood flashbacks including at the magic academy her bangs were always cut short. As we know, hair is important to elves. Her hair is elfness. Her hair is elegance. Her hair is her age. Her bangs are uneven now. It’s part of accepting her precarious weird spot in an inbetween, half up half down haircut. Acceptance on her own aging, that there’s no empiric answer for what Marcille’s equivalent age is in elf or tallman or other, maybe just a ballpark if even that. Answers which are what she’s most desperate to know. What do you mean that student over there has got an astronomic result on her dungeoneum and what do you mean she doesn’t really care for how you did it? Falin who’s thus showing her another way to be, with less self-made pressure, that you can just go with the flow- that you can just… Be.

Her hair being all down and messy as a dungeon lord is part of making the characters and audience understand that Marcille is out of it, but… Like her barefootness there’s some flexibility it implies, for Marcille who’s so rigid on appearance. Accepting her hair to be messy, a sort of shedding of who she is even as she’s overdressed and trying so hard to look like something she doesn’t feel as.

That’s why her outfit makes her feel courageous. Because it makes her feel different from who she is otherwise, because it grants her a look she feels naked without, even with barefeet and messy hair. It’s externalizing how she’s been trying to hold it all together and all her confliction and her feelings and offering some catharsis, no more hiding herself, she’s a half-elf trying to do dark magic. Clean Marcille, clean clean Marcille— Overthinking the dressing, the superficial the aesthetic, without looking enough at the body it’s covering up, the laws of the world the ecosystem of the dungeon the opinions of her friends’— what’s standing right in front of her face, the underlying thing holding up the rest of what she’s trying to change, what’s truly important. She’s back to being like with meeting Falin, overfocusing on the details and the nitpicks and the theorics while oblivious to the slimes and the bats and the balance of mana in that small cave dungeon. She has the dress and the hat but as a whole she doesn’t look like a slay queen or a princess or a cool sorceress or even like her mother, she just looks like a mess. 

Ultimately after calming down she takes the hat off. She leaves behind the grip that her childhood trauma had on her and moves forward in the dress of adulthood, with maturity and emotional intelligence and logic to deal with her current situation instead of coping mechanisms and desperate grasps for control. And then when the dungeon lord becomes Laios her dress poofs, she’s in her very plain pajamas, plain Marcille, and it’s that Marcille who goes forward to help Laios save the world and defeat the demon. Hence why post-canon she starts dressing in similar dresses to her mother as well, and starts wearing more black. Black here is a color associated with her mother. She keeps her own touch and color here and there, like her red choker instead of a black one, but it’s a stark and sudden difference. She’s matured.

And her friends aren’t afraid to say it like it is and bring back her feet to the ground instead of up in the clouds of fantasy and power where she was, her feet back on the dirt of where they are right now instead of the theorics of "when" and "then" and "forever". She’s weird, she’s unique, in some ways she doesn’t fit in with any group anywhere, and that’s ok and she’s accepted that it doesn’t mean she can’t feel belonging and joy as herself with her flawed friends in a flawed world. After all they did stick with her even after seeing her whole tantrum and embarrassing breakdown makeover. Personally I do say, slay queen.

Her dungeon lord outfit is a coming of age outfit in a very literal way. A bridge between childhood and adulthood. We see her struggle metaphorically between the past and the future, moving on or holding onto trauma. The dress, from her mother, with cleavage and low cut sleeves and a lace gap going down to her stomach and a very short risqué skirt cut, represents maturity but it was very purposefully contrasted with the earmuffs, a childish piece of accessory associated with youth. This shows her mental state, battling with her emotions, wildly fluctuating between her academic put-together powerful self and the childish emotional outbursts the pressure is causing. Time moves on too fast but she’s not growing up fast enough to keep up or make the academic breakthroughs she wants— time is always running out and she’s both too young or too old she’s pulled in both directions and she can never be up to standards. It represents her struggle with her lifespan, her struggle to fit in, to know who she should be and what she should be doing. Considering this, it’s no wonder Marcille is someone who finds ecosystems and the cycle of life unappealing and unintuitive notions, because she has to carve her own space wherever she goes.

Conclusion

Her friends are laughing because she’s doing one of those over-the-top sexy costumes with a baby bonnet and both of those are extremes uncharacteristic of her and the whiplash of Marcille out of anyone in that weirds them out. They’d take plain old marcille in her pajamas over all-powerful dungeon lord Marcille in an epic revealing goth dress any day. Marcille with messy hair is crossing the line though someone braid it please.

Marcille had a flair for the dramatic, values the grand and the novel-like, big gestures and being swept away by knights. As was discussed in this post of mine and as will be covered in my Marcille & Chil arc analysis, fantasy is something she uses to make the world more digestible, less scary, more handleable. As such, I can totally see how a gown that makes her feel larger than she is, more important or, more narratively, like a protagonist, like a sorceress and a princess, and understood and validated in her mourning, would make her feel like she can tackle things more, better in her own skin, or perhaps, giving into the delusions ever so more. She needs a dose of reality and dw her party (chilchuck) will come to give out that.

Dunmeshi prones the importance of balance for both a healthy body and a healthy mind and hope & fantasy vs logic & reality aka optimist idealism and cynical pessimism are one side of that.

"Fumi, do you really think Kui intended all of this?" To a good degree I wouldn’t be surprised, but ultimately that’s not what matters bc this is still compelling cultural context and themes to read into the text, like I mentioned at the start. Diversity of interpretations is good!! It’s a sign of a deeply rich story! I think in 15 years we’ll still have essays being written on Dungeon Meshi and I think that’s incredible and no small feat.

[ratsfanaccount]

Im going to punt this animal into space on facebook live

[pliablehead]

it’s constantly flip-flopping between face in and steadycam

realistically, X-O. haunting (affectionate) (lovely)

bellio OBBBBBBviouslyyyy

this is where we agree 99% lol i think it’s upsilon because i imprinted on it first (the back end/coda AOUGJH i love) but i loovvvee drips and tbh also accelerate a lot. i feel about o shudder the way i feel about Arc i think in that it’s hard for me to pick one standout favorite because I’m usually just like Well They’re All Pretty Neat !

streetlight!!! my first love. except it deserves a Boys Video tbh

i am actually having a much harder time with TE than anticipated!! i went ‘well it’s prob in salvia’ and then went ‘WELL or it’s damascenes. WELL i also really adore i’m not your dad for some reason. OR MAYBE IT’S just the title track after all actually.’ staring into the void!! same problem as o shudder honestly!!! I think I may have to say True Entertainment ultimately but like only for the sake of Picking One

P.S.: P IS FOR PARTY

same ‘one fave song per album’ question but it’s duncles. i feel like we have way more overlap here

OHHH very good very good... lets go

DUTCH UNCLES: i'm really into jetson suddenly. face in has been usurped literally in the last couple weeks

CADENZA: oh this is SOO difficult but probably the ink. because

OUT OF TOUCH IN THE WILD: bellio... of course... who else

O SHUDDER: upsilon but honourable mention to "15/8 wank orchestra" drips :^)

BIG BALLOON: oh yeah but mostly because its the one i put on to force my loved ones to listen to dutch uncles and they all go NOT DUNCAN WALLIS IN ROLLERSKATES AGAIN, HELLKITEPRIEST. honourable mention to big balloon itself for the bass riff

TRUE ENTERTAINMENT: it might actually be poppin'. i was about to call this a "controversial opinion" as if anyone else has opinions on this. orrrr damascenes because duncans voice does such emotional Things

(alternate answer for all: fabio acapella obv)

[markrosewater]

Maro’s “Look Inside the House”: A Duskmourn: House of Horrors Teaser

The new plane of Duskmourn is a perilous place, but if you can survive the horrors within you may come out stronger than ever. I’ve been there. I’ve seen the darkness and to that end, here are some hints of things to come – but will this information help or hinder your journey? Only time will tell. As with any good piece of horror media, you’re only receiving partial information and things are not always as they appear: 

 First up, here are some things you can expect:  

• A component of the set with a frame using technology first designed for an Un-set

• A tweak on an ability word that first appeared in the third set of a block

• Counters used in the set: +1/+1, -1/-1, finality, flying, lifelink, lore, loyalty, nest, possession, rev, stun, and time

• The first ability word to reference “second main phase”

• A 10/1 creature for UUU

• A variant on a mechanic that itself was a variant on another mechanic

• A modal three mana white mass removal spell

• A character returns as a legendary creature that first appeared in flavor text in Alpha

• A new ability word that cares about a card type and a (new) keyword action

• Creature tokens: 1/1 white Toy, 1/1 white Glimmer, 2/1 white Insect, 3/1 white Spirit, 4/4 white Beast, blue token copy, X/X blue Spirit, 2/2 black Horror, 6/6 black Demon, 1/1 red Gremlin, 1/1 red Balloon, 2/2 green Spider, 1/1 black and green Insect, and 0/0 green and blue Fractal

 Next, here are some rules text that will be showing up on cards:  

• “unlock a locked door”

• “Search your library for a Demon card,”

• “where X is the number of creatures you control with power 2 or less.”

• “Exile any number of target instant, sorcery, and/or Tamiyo planeswalker cards from your graveyard.”

• “The same is true for creature spells you control and creature cards you own that aren’t on the battlefield.”

• “You have no maximum hand size and don’t lose the game for having 0 or less life.”

• “Whenever you cast an instant or sorcery spell that targets only a single creature you control, copy that spell.”

• “Shards you control become copies of it until the beginning of the next end step.”

• “of creatures you control that don’t have the same name as this creature.”

• “(2, 3, 5, 7, 11, 13, 17, 19, 23, 29, and 31 are prime numbers.)”

 Here are some creature type lines from the set: 

• Creature – Human Doctor

• Creature – Kor Survivor

• Creature – Goat

• Creature – Shark

• Creature – Eye

• Creature – Fish Insect

• Artifact Creature – Monkey Toy

• Creature – Human Clown Berserker

• Legendary Creature – Elder Demon

• Legendary Creature – Rat Ninja Wizard

 Finally, here are some names in the set: 

• Acrobatic Cheerleader

• Don’t Make a Sound

• Exorcise

• Friendly Ghost

• Jump Scare

• Let’s Play a Game

• Meathook Massacre II

• Orphans of the Wheat

• Split Up

• Unsettling Twins

 Tune into Duskmourn’s Debut at 2pm PT, August 31 – streaming live from PAX West – where the House will finally reveal more of its secrets.

[homerstroystory]

Folding fan depicting scenes from the history of ballooning

French; c. 1785; reformed [horn] protein sticks and skin leaf painted with gouache, diamond paste studs in rivet, brass ring; maximum open of 50.5cm.

Currently in the collection of the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, accession no. 43.2078

[jaemlonfz]

can you do something about svt members wearing suits and holding their baby in the carrier infront and going for some event and the reader thinking "is it too soon to be wanting baby #2" 🫢 thank you <333

ps: i took over a MONTH to write this and i still think its not that good, i did not review it and english isnt my first language so im sorry if theres grammar errors, i hope yall like it wc: 3,1 K tw: there's the explanation and then pure filth, overall its basically all sorts of positions, crempie, praise kink in most of them, lmk if i forgot something so i was doing everyone in suits and wanting baby #2 but I started to think it was a bit silly because they all looked the same, so I changed the story for most of them. anyways i hope you still liked it, i made it with a lot of love and i apologize for taking so long

Seungcheol

You and Scoups were a public couple, fans distrusted you for years, you were always openly saying how much you loved seventeen's songs and still always singing Seungcheol's excerpts, and he openly talking about the films you star in without the slightest shame. So when you guys finally came out as a couple, your fanbase wasn't shocked at all.

A few years later as a married couple, after a one-year hiatus, you were seen in public with scoups carrying two little girls, that's how they found out that you had become parents of twin girls.

Years later, now with your daughters a bit older, you were getting ready for an awards ceremony, your burgundy dress matching with scoups tie, your girls' dresses in light pink. You were looking for your earring in every corner of your room when you went down to the living room to ask if your husband was with him, but when you arrived in the living room you saw the most adorable scene ever, Seungcheol trying to fix one of the girls' hairstyle while the another was stuck to his back kissing his cheek.

You can tell you felt your stomach turn at the Scoups' serious look as he tried not to ruin his daughter's hair, while the other looked at her father as if he were the most precious thing in the world.

Scoups was such a wonderful, caring and kind father.

You guys hadn't really brought up the subject of having kids anymore considering all the work you'd put in with both of them at once, but now it's a topic you'll actually talk about after seeing your husband being an extraordinary father.

It was only when you arrived at the awards ceremony that you realized you only had one earring in your ear.

-

“How beautiful my dear wife, you already want to have another baby”

Seungcheol said pushing his length into you, as he wiped your tears and brushed the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Will you let me fill you up so you can get pregnant again? Do you want to have a big belly carrying my son again?

Jeonghan

You knew you wanted to have another child with Jeonghan as soon as you saw him carrying your newborn son in the hospital, but that's something that absolutely every mother feels so you honestly didn't pay much attention to the feeling. But now, on the exact same date, a year later, you felt the same thing but with an animalistic intensity.

It was your son's first birthday and you decided to have a party with just the child's grandparents. With a maximum of ten balloons scattered around the large room, the grandparents amused by the baby's toothless smile, you decided to grab a candle and a lighter so you could sing personalized congratulations.

returning to the room with a candle and the lighter in your hand it was completely involuntary to rub your legs with emotion after seeing Jeonghan with your son in his arms. They were both wearing matching clothes, they both had the same smile, the same eyes and the same nose, they were like clones. the baby's thin hair was the same tone as yours but he was still a miniature Jeonghan, and seeing him smile so sincerely with his son in his arms made your eyes water a little.

-

“Jeonghan I want another baby." You admitted once the baby was sleeping in the crib.

“Do you really want another child or do you just want me to fill you?” He said smiling, and after your response in the blink of an eye your situation was completely different.

Your back arched as your ass was in the air and you cried and screamed with your face in the pillow.

“You asked for it, now you handle it.” Jeonghan said kissing your back.

Joshua

Joshua has always been a very giving person, every sunday going to church to pray for the well-being of others, and at least once a month going to orphanages to care for sick or orphaned children. And it was on one of these trips to the orphanage that you met.

Now years later Joshua continues with the same cherished habit of providing for others, and that's how you discovered that necessarily marrying him and carrying his child in your womb

Joshua was in bed when they called from the orphanage saying that a new child had arrived, as always Joshua shouted from the bed and ran asking if you would go with him to meet the new family member, you obviously said yes, quickly getting ready with him.

When you arrived in place, you ran to the bathroom because you were holding on too tightly to make a good impression on the child. returning to the giant garden looking for an unknown face, who you thought was around 4 or 5 years old, you saw Joshua's back and his arms as if he was waiting for something. Joshua quickly noticed your presence and turned to see you.

The child was definitely no older than 6 months old, Joshua held her with so much care, looked at her with so much care and love that you felt your blood pressure dropping.

Joshua was born to be a father, and you were the only one who hadn't realized that yet.

-

Now you had your legs as close together as possible, squeezing yourself constantly trying to hold in the liquid that would give you a child without letting a drop leak out.

As soon as you got home you admitted your dirty thoughts towards Joshua, who quickly took off your clothes, turned you around and filled you up.

“If you really want my son, don’t let a drop leak.” Joshua said from the kitchen, making you a sandwich while you smiled with completely red cheeks.

Junhui

It was the first time you had been away from your son for more than 10 hours, and Junhui was a wreck. Both had already cried because you missed your baby while he slept peacefully next to you, and now the day of true farewell had arrived.

You were going to a wedding a few hours away, so in case it was to late on the way back, you had already booked a hotel room just in case.

At the moment you were adjusting your heels sitting on the bed, while you saw Hunhui on the baby monitor talking to the adorable baby. you managed to hear a few words like “i’m going to miss you.” or “don’t cry too much in your grandmother’s ear.” Junhui was already ready with his suit and you, now late, ran to your son’s room to say goodbye too. but when you arrived at the door, when you saw Junhui's look at the child, you didn't know how to describe whether your heart was tender or swollen.

As expected, it was very late when the wedding ended and you had to sleep at the hotel, you could feel Junhui awake and restless by the way he moved in bed, and it left you with a wonderfull idea.

-

“You're such a good father." You said, panting on top of Junhui, riding his dick. “So worried about your son." Now you lay down in the perfect position to whisper in his ear

“Let’s give him a brother so he won’t be so alone, let’s have another child to worry about." You said and I could feel your cock twitching inside your tight, damaged interior

Soonyoung

it was yours daughter's first halloween, and quite obviously, soonyoung dressed her up as a tiger.

Yall had absolutely no party to go to, and honestly you thought the idea of ​​going door to door with a baby in costume was a bit strange, so you only dressed up for some photos and to have a fun memory about your first halloween as a family.

Soonyoung obviously begs you for the whole family to be tigers, so while you were looking for a shirt of his with a tiger print or some other style of clothing, when you returned to the living room you saw the most heart-warming scene in the world.

Soonyoung was holding the small hands of the child, who was trying to stand, while they were both smiling widely, you couldn't help it and took a photo of the moment, certainly thinking about how beautiful it would look framed on the wall.

Now that your daughter was already asleep, you went to talk to soonyoung about the scene you saw and you were obviously teased about it.

“Since you liked me so much seeing our daughter, let’s have another one”

-

“Younggg…” You mumbled trying not to make noise so as not to wake the beloved child in the next room

“i also love seeing you with our baby, let’s do one more” He pushed his length into you, who groaned at the invasion without warning.

“Ohh… ​​please soon, let’s have another one”

Wonwoo

In fact, wonwoo took the initiative to have another child with you.

Wonwoo has a younger brother and he can definitely say that it is a wonderful thing to have someone to look after and be able to talk to, so after a year of your baby being born wonwoo called you to talk about it.

The conversation was absolutely very short, he simply admitted that he wanted another child and you opened the robe you were wearing and let it fall to the floor

-

“Such a willing mother.” He kissed your chin and quickly moved down to your neck. “Such a willing wife”

“How can you be so willing to make me happy." He smiled ramming his cock into you, who twitched beneath him

“Are you so wet just thinking about me bearing another child? Do you like to imagine me filling your brim?”

You managed to hear a chuckle from him as you hurriedly shook your head answering the question. “You will look so beautiful swollen with my son”

Jihoon

Honestly there wasn't a specific moment that you knew you wanted to have another child with Jihoon, because you always knew that once you saw this man as a father, you would never stop, but I really think the penny dropped when your son asked for a sister.

You were having a movie night when suddenly your three year old son asked for a little sister. your face automatically turned to Jihoon, who as already looking at you.

You talked to your son and said you were going to talk to his father about it, and when you saw your son's reaction, you swore to yourself that you would give this child a giant family to love

“You can rest assured that you’re going to have a little sister." You heard Jihoon whispering in your son’s ear while he was still looking at you

-

“Jihoon…” you whimpered underneath him, your legs spread, your arms up being held by your husband’s strong hand

“We have to fulfill our firstborn’s wish, and now is the perfect time”

Jihoon was referring to the weekend he was spending with his grandparents, you were definitely going to be pregnant by the end of this sunday.

dokyeom -

Today was your cousin's wedding and you were desperately late. putting on your heels as you jumped up to your one-year-old daughter who was in her crib still in her pajamas, after all you left her there to get ready first and dress her up later, but distracted by the happiness of putting on makeup for a big event again you completely lost track of what time .

Mentally cursing yourself for messing around so much while doing your makeup, you entered the room imagining the little girl with her hair all tangled up, a dirty diaper stinking of poop and her tantruming with hunger, but when you opened your eye, preparing for the worst you saw dokyeom a hand without a lap.

He was holding her in his arms, trying to keep her awake so she could rest later. Dokyeom was divine with those formal clothes and kinda wet hair, you were led to think about your husband making you feel good thinking about having another child

She was already dressed beautifully, her suitcase was already packed, her hair was in a beautiful hairstyle and with a beautiful bow that matched her dress. Dokyeom had done all of this knowing you would be late.

-

“do you want to see me be a father again? did you like me seeing our daughter today?” dokyeom said as he kissed your sweaty neck.

“are you going to let me fill you up again? will you let me breed you?" he laughed at your scrunched up face with no coherent thoughts in your brain.

Mingyu

That Mingyu is a famous model that everyone knows, and that you, his makeup artist, had great chemistry with him, everyone knows, that's how you met. Now married with two daughters, brands caught your opportunity to do a commercial featuring Mingyu as his girls' father, so you did him in makeup for the shoot.

It was a casual commercial, something like them at a picnic, an outdoor field. With a brush you touch up the makeup on Mingyu's tanned skin while others arranging the scene.

In the scenes, Mingyu had one on his shoulders and the other was running hand in hand with her father or with the two playing together while he smiled admiringly. Seeing this scene was something that super swelled your heart with love and warmed your insides with emotion at seeing your husband and daughters.

When you got home at the end of the day, you were both exhausted and fell into your crib like rocks.

-

“Mingyu, give me another child” He wasted no time in pushing you onto the bed and holding your legs in the air and starting to push his length into your wet core.

“You were certainly excited about me seeing it in the commercial today, right? Do you want to have another child after you saw me looking so hot taking care of the girls” He talked to you while your eyes rolled constantly.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to only let you sleep tonight after you have an baby in your womb.”

Minghao

You and Minghao always had in mind that you wanted someone to love and call family, technical children would only come as a bonus if your partner also liked the idea of ​​procreating.

Minghao was a little piece of heaven, being everything good you could imagine, so when he thought about his thoughts about just wanting one person to call family without the obligatory need to involve a baby you were left in doubt.

Your first child was an accident and you discovered the pregnancy at 4 months, welcoming the pregnancy you saw the brightness in Minghao's eyes increasing even more, especially after your son was born.

Now, a few years later with an older child and already demonstrating some personality traits, you will see that any chance to bring lives with the same principles as Minghao you will definitely seize this opportunity.

So yes, practically you would get pregnant countless times if it meant several mini Minghao’s around the world.

“Let’s have another baby now Hao” You said as soon as Minghao sat on the bed getting ready to sleep, but now a night’s sleep is no longer guaranteed.

-

You were on your sides, lying on the bed, your pajamas were askew and your panties dragged to the side as Minghao pushed into you calmly.

“How beautiful asking me to get you pregnant, looking at me with such long eyes, your red cheeks and your sweaty hands.” He whispered in your ear slowly

“You were so nervous, did you think I would deny your request?” He kissed your neck moving his index finger to your sensitive spot “I will never deny you that”

Seungkwan

Seungkwan has always been romantic, and even after his first child was born he continued with this characteristic. Always bringing you flowers when he came home from work, bringing you your favorite chocolate or even asking for your favorite food to be delivered to your door while he was traveling.

So in his head, even though he knew that any basic conversation about having another child would probably end with you agreeing with him and you making the second child, but Seungkwan wanted to win over the second child, he wanted to win over you.

Suddenly Seungkwan would come home with clothes that were smaller than what your son was wearing because he had gotten "confused", sometimes he would take the foods you craved during pregnancy and ask you if it reminded you of anything or even buy a shirt written "big brother" for his son after all he hadn't even seen the print. So when you thought about it, you realized that Seungkwan was already way ahead of you, giving you clues about having another child from the beginning.

-

"Kwannie, if you wanted another baby you just had to tell me" You said on top of him, he had covered your face in shame the moment you discovered his plan and climbed on his dick.

"I didn't want to pressure you" He spoke shakily, you guys fit together so well. You were so magnificent on top of him.

"You deserve another child, and I will never feel pressured by something you do."

Vernon

Vernon has a good relationship with his sister. According to him, he and his sister were always friends and always counted on themselves in situations that their parents were unable to help. You have a good relationship with your brother, and you definitely agree with Vernon's wise words.

Gaining a sibling for both of us was like winning the lottery, receiving the best gift in the world, having a friend of your own blood. So you've definitely come to the conclusion that you're either going to have a couple of children or none at all, and as you're now going out with a five-year-old child, it's time to give the gift that you both managed to receive for the anxious firstborn.

-

“I forgot how addictive you are” Vernon mumbled as you moved on top of him.

“I think I’m going to try to get you pregnant every day from now on.”

Chan

Chan is a chaming person, and he actually its very good at making people do what he wanted, without them even knowing that. So when he saw you as a actual mother, holding your lilttle girl in your arms, Chan knew that all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was making you more and more of a mother and seeing you enjoying your motherhood.

Of course he would help around the house, he wanted to be a good husband/father so you could see his effort and give him a reward (a new baby)

Obviously Chan knew that your first pregnancy was very great and you did not suffer at all coparing to others mothers experience, and he knew if someday you started acting like that, it would be the end of the story. But he couldnt help himself when he saw you all curved up for him, with your tearing eyes begging for another baby

-

"Of couse i will give you another baby." He kissed your forehead as you mumbled below his muscular body

"How can i say no after you look at my so beautiful like that?" He whines in your ear seeing you tremble all up again.

"Such a beautiful mother." And yet again, Chan always get what he wants.

[writemerounder]

Shorts

Face it, babe, it’s getting painfully obvious to everyone how goddamn chunky you’ve become. Look how much that soft new gut of yours is bulging over the waistband of those slutty little shorts. It’s a miracle you even managed to tug them on, with your ass ballooning as quickly as it is.

Oh, sweetie. Did you actually think cramming yourself into your old clothes would make you look skinnier? Silly spoiled piggy, you look rounder and fatter right now than you’ve ever looked in your life, the way you’re spilling out of those poor, overtaxed clothes. There’s no room left for your gut in those pants. The entire squishy mass is being forcibly propped up above your waistband, making it look even rounder and more overfed than it actually is. The way it bounced and jiggled as you walked into the room was borderline cartoonish, babe.

Oh, no, don’t change out of them. We’ll be late for dinner if we have to wait for you to wriggle your fat ass all the way back out of those. Besides, I think the overstuffed sausage look suits you. Your friends haven’t seen you in a while. Do you think they remember you used to need a belt with those shorts?

I think it’s only fair to let them notice what a fat, greedy piggy you’ve become the instant they see you. Give them the maximum amount of time to mentally prepare themselves before they see how desperately, how obscenely you shove plate after plate into your ever-expanding gut. How shamelessly you gorge yourself until inevitably, the straining button on those poor, poor shorts breaks loose with an attention-grabbing pop. All eyes turn to you as your zipper explodes open, freeing your full, fat tummy to plop out dramatically onto your thick juicy thighs, where it sits, round and quivering in the ensuing awkward silence. Once you’ve turned sufficiently red, I’ll excuse us from the table. I’ll support you as you waddle away with one arm wrapped around your thick waist from behind, not-so-subtly fondling your bulging love handle as all your friends stare.

Don’t worry, love, we’ll get takeout on the way home. I know my chunky slut will still be hungry.

But only if you wear the shorts.

[thebibliosphere]

Very much hoping this isn’t helpy. You mentioned big cups being a problem to hold. You know Camelback bladders? The big balloons with the long squishy straw people take hiking?

fwiw they’re awesome for drinking maximum fluid with minimum effort in just about any position. I hang it off the bedpost.

I’ve tried them and can see them being handy for others.

The straw is an issue for me because they’re not firm enough and I choke a bit, but that’s specific to my issues.

(This is not an invitation for anyone to send me straw recommendations. Please refrain from doing so. Thank you.)

[mathmodder]

Get Wild Mod by MathModder (In Progress)

What you need to know:

This mod introduces wild animals into your game map that spawn naturally in beetle spawners. It includes birds, small mammals, amphibians, more insects and reptiles in nature zones. Birds can fly and land in random locations and ground animals can be seen walking around the map.

You can choose ONE from various versions that best suit your world. Select the version that spawns specific animals suitable for your World's location.

Here's a list of potential versions that will be included in the mod:

All Wildlife (City World)*

All Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

American Wildlife (City World)*

American Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

European Wildlife (City World)*

European Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

African Wildlife (City World)*

African Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

Eastern Wildlife (City World)*

Eastern Wildlife (Medieval / Country town)**

*Versions for cities will have additional specific effects that help create a more beautiful environment for your city, such as planes in the sky, fireworks, sunshine rays during the day, and sky lanterns for the All Wildlife and Eastern Wildlife version. **Versions for Medieval/Country towns will feature additional specific effects to enhance the beauty of your world, including hot air balloons in the sky, sunshine rays during the day, and more.

These additional effects mentioned above will appear rarely and randomly in your world.

Can I place individual animals in specific locations, such as on rocks or tables?

In a future update after launch, this function will be added, for now they will only spawn where there is a beetle spawner. Ground animals on the ground and birds in the air.

Is the mod heavy to run?

Within the game I am optimizing it so that a small number of animals spawn at the same time and only spawn at a maximum distance of 500 meters from the player's camera.

How many files will there be?

Because there are many animals and specific animations for each one, the files will be heavy, will be a maximum of 2 to 3 files. In tests in my game with 150 other mods from other creators, I didn't see any loss of performance due to the optimization I'm doing within the game.

It is worth mentioning that some files will need to be placed in the Overrides folder and others in the Packages folder, they will all be specified at launch.

Is this mod compatible with other effect mods?

Yes, it will be compatible.

Bugs:

Depending on the location, there may be some bugs such as birds landing in the air or animals walking a little above the ground, this is due to calculation problems on certain game surfaces and physics, whether hills or mountains, but over time I will update and see What can I do to reduce this. In this case I depend on the engine the game has and whether it is possible to correct certain errors.

Release date:

Between January and February 2024 (It is in the testing phase)

Here is the list of animals that will be included in the mod:

American Eagle Bird

Anteater

Artic Tern

Aphids

Bat

Beaver

Bees

Black Bird

Black Egret

Black Fox

Black Goose

Black Rat

Blue Bird

Blue Frog

Blue Green Parrot Bird

Blue Jay

Blue Lizard

Blue Parakeet

Blue Macaw

Booby Bird

Brown Bird

Brown Bunny

Brown Egret

Brown Hen

Brown Monkey

Brown Owl Bird

Brown Pelican Bird

Brown Squirrel

Bullfinch Bird

Bullfrog

Butterflies (many colors)

Buzzard Bird

Canary

Capercaillie Female Bird

Capercaillie Male Bird

Canadian Goose

Cardinal

Carcara Bird

Charadriidae

Chimp

Chimpmunk

Chukar partridge

Condor Bird

Cormorant

Coyote

Crow

Cicada

Cockroach

Dart Frog

Dove Bird

Dragonfly

Egret

European Goldfinch

Falcon

Female Peacock Bird

Flamingo Bird

Fox

Fireflies

Golden Monkey

Golden Pheasant

Goldfinch

Gray Frog

Gray Lizard

Gray Parrot Bird

Gray Partridge

Green Bird

Green Frog

Green Lizard

Green Parakeet

Green Parrot Bird

Harlequin Duck

Hawk

Heron Bird

Hoopoe Bird

Horn Owl Bird

Humming Bird

Humming Bird Loop

Jack Rabbit

Kinkajou

Komodo Dragon

Ladybug

Lilac-breasted Roller

Little Red Parrot

Little Yellow Bird

Little Yellow Parrot

Magpie

Mallard Bird

Marmot

Marten

Male Peacock Bird

Mole

Multicolor Bird

Nude Rat

Orange Bird

Orange Fox

Orange Frog

Owl

Pangolin

Pheasant

Pink Cockatoo

Piper Bird

Possum

Pigeon

Quero-Quero Bird

Raccoon

Raven

Red-Eyed

Red Fox

Red Frog

Red Head White Cardeal

Red Lizard

Red Panda

Red Macaw

Red-crowned Crane

Rooster

Scissor White Bird

Sea Parrot Bird

Seagull

Silver Pigeon

Skunk

Snake

Sparrow

Spiny Lizard

Stork

Striped Lizard

Swallow Bird

Toco Toucan

Tortoise

Vulture Bird

White Bunny

White Cockatoo Bird

White Diving Bird

White Fox

White Goose

White Hen

White Monkey

White Owl

White Pelican Bird

White Piper Bird

White Rat

White Squirrel

White Swan

Wild Rabbit

Woodpecker

Yellow Lizard

Yellow Parakeet

Yellow Pelican Bird

Yellow Toucan

Want to support? Be a Patreon and get Early Access! Math Modder | The Sims 3 Mods and MO-MO-MORE! | Patreon

If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I will add them to this post!

[growinglou]

✳️HOW to eat BIG but appropriately🚧

So this is a collection of things I have learnt overtime with my ultimate goal of becoming a muscle bound mass monster freak !👹

EAT EAT EAT EAT until you want to be sick! Like your gut is about to explode like a bulging balloon like a stuffed pig ! ?

Right ?

Yes and no a time and a place for when the stuffing happens will come and if you are thinking about a cycle at some point in time important factors come into play if the overall goal is a maximum lean muscle growth response 

These pics below are fun I liked going full pig but how much muscle was built ? How can I keep pushing feeling sluggish digestion slowing down…

These examples are exactly what you do not what to look like when you are planning to push into a new growth cycle 💉 But why ?

( But a cutting “cycle” is actually fine but more on that later )

Part 2 NEXT

79kg 2020 5ft3 (160cm) pig

[hush-writes-stuffing]

When did your belly get this big?

You've been binging since you got home from work, struck with the insatiable urge to stuff your face with anything you could find. You plowed through the leftovers in your fridge before moving on to the freezer with its bounty of frozen fruit, snack cakes, and ice cream. The cold barely seemed to phase you as you scraped every package clean of its contents, nearly moaning in delight at the taste.

The pantry came next, where you gorged yourself on countless packages of cookies, snacks, cereal, and other ready-to-eat foods. When those ran out, you tore into a bag of dry pasta, crunching through the normally tasteless noodles that suddenly tasted divine.

You can hear your stomach groaning with displeasure at the sheer mass of food you've stuffed into it, but you don't want to stop. You can't stop. Every mouthful tastes heavenly, and your brain keeps you chewing and swallowing, only pausing when you need to breathe.

At some point you glance down to see your stomach protruding from the expensive button-down shirt you'd worn to work that day, the tight, reddening skin stretched like a balloon inflated far past its maximum capacity. You had no idea that your belly could grow so big or round, as if you'd somehow swallowed a basketball that forced your body to conform to its shape.

You should probably be concerned, right? This doesn't seem normal.

But hell, you are so incredibly hungry…

[rottenpumpkin13]

😔usual lazard anon here, not feeling so emotionally well today,

can we have what if agzs threw a birthday party for lazard?

I hope you feel better soon! 💚🫂

*AGSZ surprise Lazard with a perfectly normal, mundane birthday party*

Everyone: Surprise!

Lazard: What's the catch?

Genesis: What catch?

Lazard: Usually, there's a catch, like fireworks-related injuries, accidental criminal activity, or something that would give me a heart attack.

Angeal: I can't believe you think of us that way.

Sephiroth: Yes, we went out of our way to throw you a fun party, and now you don't trust us?

Zack, holding a cake: I even baked you a cake!

Sephiroth: He even baked you a cake.

Zack: Yeah! I got the recipe from Reno. It contains two cups of flour, one cup of sugar, three eggs, a teaspoon of vanilla extract, a pinch of salt, a tablespoon of crushed-up energy drink pills for maximum partying energy—

Lazard:

Genesis: We got you streamers, balloons, all these festive decorations.

Zack: —half a cup of unsweetened cocoa powder, one cup of butter, a dash of baking powder, a mysterious herbal infusion for relaxation that you shouldn't worry about—

Lazard:

Angeal: We even have party games lined up! Like pin the tail on the chocobo.

Sephiroth: And a trivia contest about you which I've organized.

Zack: —two cups of chocolate chips, one cup of crushed walnuts, a drop of baking soda, some mako—

Lazard: !

Genesis: And I've downloaded a playlist of your favorite songs.

Zack: —and for decoration, I used organic edible flowers, dark chocolate ganache, and a chemical I bought on the internet that's supposed to mimic the feeling of ecstasy. Would you like some?

Lazard: NO?

Sephiroth: If you don't eat it I will.

Lazard: NO YOU WON'T—

[kickingitwithkirk]

If I Gave You My Soul, Would You Wait Eternity For Me?

Pairing: Dean Winchester X Sam Winchester

WC: 8218

Warnings: Show Level Violence, Wincest

*Written initially for Wincest Reverse Bang 2023 *Inspired by the artwork A King and his Knight by @bluefire986 *Thank you to @mrswhozeewhatsis for being my last-minute Beta

Sam walks down the empty hallway feeling tired. 

Not the kind of tired one gets from the physical work of hunting, but a type from being one of heaven and hell's favorite chew toys for so long it has worked its way into the marrow of his bones.

He opens the door to Room Eleven and flips the lights on. He scans the scant possessions in his brother's personal space, illuminated by the antiquated lighting around the room, all having some meaning to Dean. Weaponry hanging on the walls, the antique furniture he can’t stop rearranging, his favorite Busty Asian Beauties magazines, and last but not least, a slice of discarded pie sitting on the telephone table.

Sam frowns at the representation of how much of a sloth his brother always was… is . Picking up the leftovers, he notices some photographs sticking out from under a scribbled-on notepad and pulls them out. He sits on the unmade bed flipping through them, each containing a distinct memory; some taken before he was old enough to remember, others throughout their years together. 

He pauses at the last one. Bobby had snapped the candid picture in his kitchen sometime between Death's restoration of his soul and Castiel breaking The Wall. Sam tries to remember the last time he’s seen his brother smiling like that. 

Leaving all but that one photo behind, Sam is determined to save Dean from damnation, no matter the cost.

****

Unbeknownst to Sam during his absence, Dean regains consciousness and, ironically, feels a helluva lot better. His blood feels more fevered than boiling and notices his flesh is no longer burning like it had been since Sam slapped the demon cuffs on him the other day.  

Manipulating his left arm, Dean bends his hand and hisses when the holy water-infused ropes sting his fingertips like a swarm of wasps. He quickly loosens the knot, slips free, then tackles the rest. Unlacing his left boot enough to toe it off, he sits it on his lap and removes the leather insert, fishing out the hidden lock pick and using it to release his cuffed wrist. 

Shaking out his hand, Dean feels the cuffs' inhibiting effects diminish, gets up, crosses to the painted edge of the demon trap, and comes into contact with the trap's front edge. It shocks him with what feels like a hundred cattle prods simultaneously. Growling, Dean backs up a bit and springs forward using his superior strength, forcing the invisible barrier to bow outwards like an overinflated balloon. It gives way when it hits the maximum curvature, and inertia carries him on until gravity grabs hold and drops him like a stone onto the concrete floor.

Dean lies there, momentarily breathless, and mirthlessly chuckles at what his little brother considered a brilliant idea, pumping so much blessed blood into him that it fooled the wardings’ capabilities. Climbing onto unsteady feet, he staggers for the door and traverses up the first set of the building's stairwells. The residual effects from the physical restraints finish wearing off and Dean fumes at Sam’s audacity. How dare Sam force a cure Dean didn’t want on him when he had been downright benevolent in offering to spare his life by walking away. 

Twice

But now Dean is free and pissed off. The Mark burns on his arm, screaming for The Blade and vengeance. Soon, it’ll finish overriding the bit of humanity that had struggled to return. Usually, Dean goes straight for the kill and heads for some no-name bar to drink and hook up with whoever caught his eye, enjoying their charms until he gets bored. 

But it was Sam . His too damn intelligent and resourceful little brother who’d flagrantly discarded his last request.

Sammy, let me go.

But no, Sam hauled him back to the bunker and forcibly injected that poisonous cure into his body, knowing he hates needles, knowing it’d never been successfully used on a knight of Hell.  

Yes, Dean had to teach his little brother a lesson. And there were plenty of implements of war and other things around the bunker to employ. 

Using his mortal self’s knowledge of how his little brother processes various scenarios, Dean runs through all known versions of Sam’s A-Z planning. In all versions, calling the angel would be step one. He knows he’ll need new tactics but doesn’t have much time to implement them before that dick in the trench coat shows. 

Even if he is running on borrowed grace, Dean isn’t ignorant that Castiel could still be a threat to a knight of Hell, possibly overpowering him now that that cure has temporarily sullied his blood. He starts formulating countermeasures while traveling the stairs toward the second floor and, upon reaching the level, goes straight to the lab in Room Twenty-Eight for a few items.

Part II

Sam returns with two more packs of the cure and slowly walks to the dungeon’s entrance, mentally guarding himself against the next barrage of verbal attacks from the demon, his big brother. He notices the door is open and feels adrenaline-fueled fear saturate his system. His heart races, standing in the doorway, finding the chair empty with the restraints dangling off the arms. 

Sam reaches into the back of his waistband, pulls out the demon blade, and scans his immediate area. Realizing his brother has moved on, he cautiously heads back up the stairwell toward the upper floors.

Clearing each is time-consuming, making Sam’s fear grow that the demon has escaped the bunker. It’s almost a relief when he hears a door open and quickly close, then footsteps moving up a back staircase to the main floor. 

Peeking around the map room, Sam stealthily crosses to a desk drawer where the master keys are stored and freezes at clattering in the kitchen. He quietly picks up the metal ring, hoping Dean can’t hear him. 

Sam heads downstairs as he hears Dean bellow, “Come on, Sammy! Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time?” 

Sam reaches the electrical room and flinches with every jingle of the keys as he unlocks the door. He has to keep Dean from escaping or everybody Dean leaves behind will be blood on Sam’s hands. With a switch flick, the bunker turns dark, kicking on the red auxiliary lights as the claxon announces the lockdown and covers the sound of his steps.

“Smart Sam, locking the place down, doors won’t open. I get it, but here’s the thing. I don’t want to leave, not till I find you.” 

The relief Sam feels at knowing no one else will be hurt anytime soon is balanced by the spike of fear caused by the murderous tone of his brother’s voice. He’s heard it plenty of times, just never aimed at��him . Refocusing on his goal, Sam quells his fear and quietly moves to find a place to hide, wait for Dean to show, and shut off the lockdown to silence the claxon so he can trail Sam’s steps again. Sam hopes this will be his chance to trap him and escape alive.

“Sammy, just making this worse for yourself, man. You can, uh, blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human--well, the less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that devil’s trap--well, I just walked right across it; it smarted. But still….”

Dean enters the hall heading into the electrical room and heads down the steps to the junction box. A flip of a switch powers the bunker up. “That’s more like it.” Dean says loud enough for Sam to hear as he slams the door shut from the outside.

Obviously unimpressed, Dean yells through it as Sam again tries reasoning with him to finish the treatment. He jumps at a loud, thumping noise from the inside and backs up when the wooden door splinters, sending pieces flying at him. 

“You act like I want to be cured.” 

Sam is shocked as more chunks burst outwards, revealing his brother's pissed-off face.

“Personally, I like the disease, ” Dean taunts, knowing how those words will bother Sam.

“Dean, stop that!” Shaking his hand, Sam lobs what they both know is a baseless threat. “I don’t want to use this blade on you!”

“Oh ! That sucks for you, doesn’t it? ‘Cause you mean that,” Dean sneers.

“Look, if you come out of that room, I won’t have a choice!’

“Sure you will!  And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? But see,” Dean resumes his demolition, “here’s the thing. I’m lucky. Oh, hell, I’m blessed. ‘Cause there’s just enough demon lift in me that killing you ain’t no choice.” 

Knowing he has no choice but to run, Sam tears down the passageway as Dean finishes wrecking the door and walks through what remains. “Come on, Sammy, let’s have a beer, talk about it. I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!”

Sam peers down the hallways Dean will have to pass through and finds them empty. He turns to double back but in his peripheral, catches a flash of red flannel and instinctively ducks. He feels the prongs of the swinging object snag longer strands of his hair before its momentum buries it in the concrete wall where his head was milliseconds ago. Sam swoops upright, placing the sharp edge of the demon blade against Dean's throat.

The chuckle that comes out of Dean is truly evil. “Well, look at you.” 

Sam’s hand trembles as Dean peers upward into his eyes and challenges, “Do it,” before tipping his chin downward and leaning into the blade’s edge.

“ It’s all you.”   

If Sam had a better poker face when lying to his big brother, he wouldn’t have given away that Cas appeared behind Dean, and what happened next would’ve been impossible. Sam watched, horrified, as Dean sliced his throat on the demon blade, the cut sparking orange and dousing him and the wall in a venous spray revealing a hidden sigil.

Time ticked in slow motion as Dean pushed Sam away, sending him sliding down the hall with unnatural force. He then smoothly turned toward the angel with demonic speed and did it again, sending Cas flying through the air. Sam watches as he swipes his left hand across the cut before slapping it on a now glowing sigil, dispatching the trench-coated angel to who knew where. 

Sam’s still-shocked brain immobilizes him long enough that Dean is on him before he can get up and run. He tries, but his bum shoulder gets in the way, leaving him floundering. Dean grabs the lapels of his flannel shirt and pulls him to his feet, instead. One evil, cocky smile, and Dean slams Sam and his head against the wall then leaves him to slide back down to the floor. Sam’s fading vision registers the knight of Hell squatting down and, before losing consciousness, hears his gravelly voice utter, “Should’ve picked that beer.”

Part III

When the first glimmers of consciousness return, the cold air rolling over his skin tells Sam he’s in the dungeon. He quickly figures he’s shackled and bound to the chair by the blessed ropes, wrapped in their rough embrace. He’s still doing an inventory of his position and possible injuries when a thirst hits him. 

Not thirst from the lack of hydration but that unique, unforgettable, insatiable craving Sam has vehemently resisted for years. This thirst was reignited by the higher-level demon's blood, making his body yearn for more of the substance that’s left a thick, rich coating, laced with a smoky aftertaste, on his tongue.

Horrified by his reaction, the little blood in his stomach rolls upwards, slipping past his lips onto his shirt, followed by copious amounts of foul-tasting, pink-tinged bile.

“You always were an over-sensitive bitch.” 

The gravelly voice bounces off the concrete walls to ricochet inside his skull. Struggling to open his eyes through the pain from the back of his head, Sam fuzzily sees the outline of his brother sitting with one hip hitched up on the edge of the table, suddenly smiling peculiarly. “I gotta hand it to you, Sam. You were this close,” he holds up a thumb and forefinger an inch apart, “turning me back. Know where you fucked up? Come on, take a guess. No? Okay, I’ll throw you a bone. Where’d you store that blood?” 

Dean smirks as the answer dawns on Sam. “I’d have put it on ice in a cooler. No wonder Dad never trusted you to do anything right.” 

Sam remains silent, partly not wanting to vomit on himself again as his head mercilessly throbs in time with his heartbeat. The other part doesn’t want to take the bait because the demon who is his brother holds all the cards.

“What? No pithy comeback? No, Dean, you’re wrong, blah blah blah?” The demon grabs a beer bottle by his hip and takes a swig.

 “That night I left with Crowley, he asked why not kill you and be done with it 'cause you’d never stop searching for us.” The demon chuckles. “Told him we had an agreement to do normal. And how do you repay my benevolence? You drag me back here, torturing me in ways far worse than Alastair ever dished out because you can’t let go!”

“Are you telling me that Dean Winchester, my brother, wouldn’t have gone to the ends of the earth if it’d been me? I don’t believe that!” Sam pushes down the pain. “You want a pound of flesh for doing the same thing you’ve repeatedly done for me?”

“Ohh, I’ve already got ideas running through my head.” His mood shifts, and presto chango, he’s Dean again. “So, I’m going to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

"Man, you hung out way too long with that low-rent Vito Corleone wannabe,” Sam snarks.

“Maybe. But I learned more about The Mark when he was in his cups, whatever that means. He admitted not telling me everything before I took it and related a little-known story. Cain couldn’t deal with what he’d done and committed suicide using the First Blade. But The Mark wouldn’t let him go, changing him into a demon.”

“Here’s the kicker, though.” Dean goes to a storage cabinet, removes an object, and then walks over to him. “What none of the lore, oral histories, or rumors say was that he became a demon with a soul.”

“Wha..what are you saying?” The scent of the rich blood under Dean's skin tortures him the closer he gets. “You’ve had your soul this entire time, and you still—” Sam broke off, the thirst clouding his thoughts.

“The Mark wants what it wants, but I’ve had time to figure out how to keep it appeased, and right now, my soul is the only thing keeping you alive.” Dean stops centimeters from the devil’s trap’s outer ring. “Here's my proposal. I’ll stay till you heal, care for you like I always have.”

“In exchange for what, Dean? I look the other way while you go out and slaughter people.”

“You returned The Blade to Crowley, so The Mark is pissed and wants your blood, which brings me to the second part. I need you to feel what I feel, see what I… Jesus Fucking Christ, I’m starting to sound like that wanker Crowley!” 

Dean moves around as he used to when shaking things off. “I need you to understand I want this, and the only way is to spend time with me as is. So, to wrap your big brain around it, I’m going to give you a bit of my blood every day, just enough to bring out that demonic side Azazel created.”

“You have lost your fucking mind, Dean! If you think I’d let you—”

“Before finishing that sentence, imagine me shutting the power on and off to watch you suffocate for the fun of it. Or locking down the bunker, letting you slowly starve. Remember, I also was Alastair’s most promising, and I can do things to your body without killing you, make you wish you’d never left the Cage.”

Sam doesn’t respond, so the demon crosses the trap smiling coldly. “It doesn’t work on me anymore.” He walks behind Sam and leans close to whisper, “Remember feeding from Ruby? How that warm blood slipped down your throat, heightening your senses, making you powerful? And she was just a common demon. Can you imagine what a higher-level demon, a knight of Hell, will make you feel like?” Dean holds up a mirror before his face, revealing Sam’s kaleidoscope eye colors are gone, now replaced by a liquid gold color, making him resemble the yellow-eyed bastard who’d destroyed his family.

“After all, Sam, you're foreordained to be the Boy King of Hell.” 

The demon's mood shifts again. “Well, I don’t know about you, but all this talk of blood and mutilation made me hungry,” his brother says, heading towards the door. “I’ll let you sit there while I run to town and grab some food, followed up with a slice of good old-fashioned murder.” 

Dean turns and smiles like his human self. “I’m kidding, Geesh; gotta work on that sense of humor, Sammy!” Flipping off the lights, he shuts the door.

“See you later.”

Part IV

“... the heat of the moment

Telling me what your…”

“Rise and shine, Sammy!” 

Sam’s eyes fly open as the room lights flicker brightly on, squinting at Dean stuffing the last bite of a burger into his mouth.

“...The heat of the moment showed in your eyes.”

“ Whooh , dude, you fucking reek!” Dean mumbles with his mouthful, dramatically waving his hand as the cell phone continues blaring that Asia song Sam hates. ”What is that smell?” He glances down at his brother's lap. ”Oh yeah, I forgot about bodily functions. Sorry.” 

The demon’s audacity to look contrite pisses him off. “You're sorry ?!” Sam hoarsely snaps, “You left me here for so fucking long that I pissed and shit myself like a fucking baby! Was that whole spiel about caring for me another one of your games? If this is your way of convincing me to accept anything you propose, fucking kill me now!”

“I said I was sorry!” Dean grumbles as he stomps over. “It's only been thirteen hours.” He curses while untying the ropes with his bare hands. Unlocking the demon cuff from the chair arm he snaps, “I’m not taking any chances.” Yanking on Sam’s cuffed wrist, he snaps the manacle to his slung-bound wrist, “So you’re keeping these on. Let's go.”

Dean drags Sam up the multiple levels to the communal showers. “Time to get yourself cleaned up.” Dean goes over to his brother's usual area and turns the knobs, warming up the water.

 “How am I supposed to do that? You just said I had to stay in these,” Sam inquires, jingling the silver manacles. “And my shoulder’s stiffened up so much there’s no way I’m getting my shirts off.” Dean momentarily frowns, then grabs the facility's rubbish bin and pulls out his butterfly knife. 

“What’re you..?” Sam begins, but then Dean slices through his flannel and T-shirt, pulls the strips off, and kneels to unlace his boots before reaching for the button on his jeans. Sam's weak protest of you can’t is met by the demon's black eyes and a growl of, “Knock it off!” 

Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he yanks them to Sam’s ankles, blinking in disbelief at his brother's emaciated body. Sam didn't take time to care for himself in the weeks since Dean died, and it made Dean’s eyes shift back into their normal chartreuse. Sam can’t look at this perverted version of his brother supposedly caring for him, so stares at the tiled wall. As he did when still a child, he automatically lifts each foot for Dean as expected, then cringes as his destroyed clothes violently slam into the bin.

“Keep your arm still.” Unsnapping the sling, Dean tosses it towards the bench, then backs him up till the warm sprays hit his back, running over it, cleansing off the days of filth. 

In his peripheral vision, Sam notices Dean stripping off his clothes. “What are you doing?”

The only response is a washcloth roughly scrubbing over his good shoulder and down his back. “Don’t think you can feign ignorance about starving yourself!” Dean snaps as he continues bathing him like when they were kids. “How much time have I invested in caring for you over the years, too? Once again, you’ve risked your health.” He squeezes Sam’s injured shoulder. “No wonder I was able to outthink and outmaneuver you.”

Part V

His buzzing alarm clock wakes Sam, and he gazes at his ceiling like every morning, or is it night? He’s lost track of time since his brother, the knight of Hell, got loose. While lying there, he rehashes what has transpired.

He’s tried several times to escape, and the demon kept his word. Sam involuntarily shudders at the muscle memory of those punishments, so now he does everything Dean instructs, including waiting in his room until Dean shows up with his “daily tonic”, the term he gave to the blood he makes Sam drink directly from his wrist. Thinking about it makes his mouth feel as dry as the Sahara Desert, so he switches his thoughts to compare all the changes he’s found in his brother again.

It’s funny how the demon is still, well, Dean. Retaining his childish humor but with a darker edge at times. His drinking habits haven’t changed, but the whole extended periods of not eating had taken a while to get used to. The biggest change is that the guilt that used to permeate his being is nonexistent; as if becoming a demon freed his soul, is now as he should have been all along.

He also knows Dean is up to something. There are strange phone calls when he thinks Sam has dozed off while watching TV, or the few times he’s unexpectedly left in the middle of the night when Sam has gotten up to go to the toilet or get a drink of water. Then there are the times he catches Dean looking at him. Sam would swear he was looking at him with desire if he didn’t know his brother was strictly into boobs.

Whatever’s going on, Dean will eventually slip up somewhere, and Sam will have the chance to get out. Until then, Sam plays the obedient little brother.

****

Sitting at the library table working on the archive database he created for easier access to the bunkers' collections, Sam searches for a file that has somehow disappeared, checking one place than another, and catches his brother with his feet propped up on the table's end watching him. Again.

Unnerved by the intensity in his eyes, Sam finds himself subconsciously fidgeting like he did when puberty kicked in and realizes his feelings for Dean were developing into the not-brotherly kind. His feelings had become so intense that it was the number one factor in his decision to go away to college.

During those years, and after returning to hunting, he watched his brother evolve from a twink to a very sexy guy and buried his feelings of jealousy when Dean used his perfect features to his advantage in and out of the bedroom. 

“How come I’ve never noticed you’ve got this hot, librarian vibe, little brother?” 

Sam snorts. “Because you're straight.”

 “I’m serious, Sam.”

“Yeah, whatever, dude,” he replies and gets up, resuming his search.

Dean purses his lips. “Spending this time here with you, not worrying about the rest of the world. I realize I’ve spent my life denying I’m Samsexual.”

Sam turns in shock and stares at his brother, unsure if the demon is playing him for malevolent kicks or if Dean is telling the truth, knowing he has to tread carefully. Perching on the other table, Sam asks, “What triggered this confession?”

“Seemed as good a time as any.”

“That’s not an answer, Dean. I know you are technically you and it’s still hard to be honest with me. But I’ve also seen your other side trying to be more open, so please don’t shut me out again. I’d like to know how long you have felt this way about me?”

Dean shrugged. “It was my job to take care of you. Hell, Dad said it often enough. Watch out for Sammy. Those words are ingrained into my bones, deeper than that Enochian warding etched on our ribs. Then you grew, changing from my snot-nosed brother into this wondrous creature, and how I felt about you became something twisted and ugly. Old me never wanted you to find out about my sick desires, so I buried it in those girls I fucked.”

Sam listens to his brother spinning his tale of how, as a teen, he thinks maybe he was born wrong because he’s in love with his baby brother, consumed by thoughts of wanting to touch, caress, and kiss Sam’s pretty pink lips when he smiles and his mind spirals back to those years. 

He thinks maybe he was just born wrong.

Those words trigger a long-treasured memory of Sam, being sixteen and in another nondescript motel room. He’s lying in their shared bed with just enough moonlight filtering in for him to make out the features of Dean's face so close to his. Sometimes, it physically hurts how beautiful Dean is. Broad shoulders and strong hands and gorgeous fucking mouth, and Sam can't release the ache in his chest with Dean's body pressed against him. Slipping a hand beneath the sheets, he starts stroking himself and trying not to think about Dean. But like always, he fails, and clenching his teeth, Sam comes silently. 

“I thought you'd hate me if you knew how much I loved you because I always thought I was what's broken. Now you’re saying you always felt the same? It's not all about wanting or sex or desire. It's just that we’ve never had anybody to care for except each other.” Sam bursts into a laughing jag and falls, landing heavily on the floor. 

Dean falls onto his knees and, in that moment of mutual clarity, says, “You are mine.”  Gazing into his brother’s eyes, he knows Sam's feelings and smiles.

Unrepentant.

Dean's fingertips brush his lips, and it feels like a gentle breeze. Sam leans in to kiss his brother's palm. At that moment, Sam hopes. He hopes, but he also subconsciously knows, that everything they want will come crashing down at some point. 

****

Sam’s flipping through the card catalog when he comes across one out of place. He’s positive it hadn’t been in this drawer the last time he opened it and not recognizing the number enters it into his database but doesn’t find it. His curiosity piqued, he heads for the garage to let Dean know he’ll be hunting down the mystery item in the archives.

Hours later, huffing in frustration, Sam tosses yet another book on the pile cluttering the table in the center of the room. Tracking a Wendigo through the woods is a piece of cake compared to the maze someone’s created for this item. He briefly closes his blurry eyes and rolls his shoulders, working the kinks out from sitting in one position too long. 

Reopening them, he notices the mortar around some of the bricks in the wall next to the shelves he’s been scanning has a different patina. He crosses to the wall and runs his fingers over the area when one gives. He pushes on it and the front of a book-filled steamer trunk sitting next to the wall pops open. Squatting down, Sam can see warding inside and removes a cloth-wrapped item. He feels something sinister emanating from it and sets it on the floor. He reaches to unwrap it, but hears Dean's boots echoing down the hallway and quickly shoves it back in shutting the compartment. 

“Hey, I’ve been calling. Dinner’s ready.”

“Ahh, guess I was in the zone, sorry.”

“Geek,” Dean teases. “You’ve been down here for hours. Find that wherever it is yet?” 

Sam stands. “No, I’ve searched everywhere but it must have been misplaced at some point. What’d you pick up for dinner?” 

Dean's demeanor shifts and Sam knows he’s picked up on the item's lingering essence and comes in. His peering around the shelving makes Sam so nervous he starts fidgeting with one of his cuffs. 

Dean warily eyes him. “I cooked. Made that chicken fettuccine you like.” 

Sam seizes the opportunity to distract him. “Look at you, going to all that trouble, making my favorite. How am I ever to repay you?” He bends and kisses Dean, relaxing when his brother leans into it.

Completely distracted, Dean murmurs against his lips, “Dessert first, and you're on the menu.” 

****

Sam has lost all concept of time.

Mostly, he finds he doesn’t care anymore, whether it’s from the small amounts of blood sating the craving that never goes away or being the center of Dean's universe again. For his birthday, he surprises Sam with a cupcake and they celebrate as if time rolled back twenty years, except for the phenomenal sex they have afterward. 

Sam’s concluded that he’s found contentment, albeit in a completely different way than he ever imagined. He deserves it and doesn’t want it to end. 

Of course, it’s not perfect.

He can sense that item hidden in the trunk, even with demon cuffs inhibiting his blood-fueled abilities. By his brother’s reaction, he knows it's important. Much to Sam’s chagrin, Dean tossed the archives room several times, leaving him to straighten up the aftermath. He’ll have to be patient and wait for the right time to unearth it again. 

****

Sam unwraps the mystery item and feels his heart rate accelerate, realizing what it is. 

The Book of the Damned. 

An ancient manuscript created from flesh and blood containing various dark spells to break curses. Flipping through it, Sam understands some of the obscure Sumerian dialects, remembers a footnote about an encrypted codex, and searches for it. 

Placing both books on the table, he ignores the evil emulating from them and concentrates on finding and translating the spell needed to remove The Mark. 

****

Something made by God, but forbidden to man:

The Forbidden Fruit.

Something made by man, but forbidden by God:

The Golden Calf.

The caster's heart: The life of the thing the spell caster loves most:

Dean.

“This can’t be,” Sam says out loud, staring at the ancient tome. “This can’t be the only way.”

He’d give up his soul without a second thought to talk to Bobby mirthlessly chuckles, knowing Bobby would call him an idjit after everything Dean’s done to get it back. Wearily running his hand over his face, Sam frowns. He’s had energy to spare with Dean feeding him small doses of his demon blood, only needing short naps every few days.

So why the hell is he so exhausted?

Sam goes to the nearest bathroom and looks in the mirror. Sure enough, liquid gold eyes stare back as they have since Dean splattered him in blood. Absorbed in his pondering, Sam walks back to the archives and discovers everything he’d been working on is missing except a folded piece of paper. Picking it up, his heart pounds reading the message.  

Following his brother's instructions to meet in the library, Sam finds him with his feet propped up, a beer in one hand and the book in the other, reading. Squaring his shoulders, Sam sits in his usual place and waits for Dean to acknowledge him. Instead, he continues, occasionally referring back to the codex. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he says, “I gave you a taste of what it’d be like, being together, unburdened by our reality and this is how you repay me.”

“I wasn’t going to let you sacrifice yourself again!”

“It’s different this time! I turned you back into a blood junkie so you’d get some understanding that my remaining a demon is what I need! It’s helped me believe not everything in this fucking universe is my fault, that I’m not 90% crap!”

“I know I’ve done things over the years that’s made it difficult to trust me but to be with you like this, it’s gone against everything I believe in!” Sam gets up, pacing around, and runs his cuffed hands through his hair when Dean gets up, too. 

“Still amazes me how gullible you are Sammy. Those cuffs are strong enough to restrain me but you, with the powers you possess? No way in hell they’d ever actually work.” 

Sam’s brow furrows at what Dean said. 

“You became so absorbed in this that you never noticed I stopped giving you my blood months ago.” Dean closes the distance between them and peers up. “It’s been all you, Dumbo.” Ruby had said something similar: he didn’t need the feather to fly, he had it in him the whole time. 

Dean continues. “My carrying The Mark is the only foolproof way to stop The Darkness from destroying the universe.” 

Sam dreads his brother’s answer but still asks the question. “What are you talking about? What is The Darkness?”

Dean recounts during one of his middle-of-the-night excursions being summoned by Death. The horseman told him a story about God and the archangels imprisoning The Darkness with a mystical lock and key. God gave it to Lucifer, but it corrupted Lucifer so badly that God cast him out. The fallen angel eventually passed it to Cain and so forth.

“For us to end the cycle of Heaven and Hell using us, you gotta accept this is the only foolproof way of averting another one of their apocalypses.” Dean taps the book. “Stop trying to turn me back!” 

His brother is the strongest person Sam has ever known, and as a knight of Hell, a higher-level demon, Dean could carry the burden that came with the curse. Sam’s eyes shift back into their kaleidoscope array, and closing the distance between them, he places his hand over his soulmate's unbeating heart.

“This is it, then?”

Sam's voice is so broken, and his face, nothing has changed since infancy. His baby brother always was the ugliest cryer, almost making Dean cave. Instead, he grips his hand and leans in, touching his forehead to Sam’s.

“Now, I need you to give you what YOU want, Sam. I know you want an ordinary life that I can’t give you. Maybe you'll realize where you truly belong once you’ve had it, get out of your system.”

“Dean….” 

Dean's strong hands cup his face and Sam flashes to the smell of his sleep-warmed skin, to his sweat and his breath and the feel of him, so close and all he wants is Dean to take the upcoming hurt away but knows he won’t.

“Don’t worry Sammy, I will behave, mostly. Now, walk away and live that ordinary life and when it’s time, I’ll be back for you, little brother.” 

Part VI

One year later

Sam locks the door to his apartment and heads down the building’s exterior stairs, abruptly stopping when he hits street level. His hunter senses engaging, he automatically reaches for the back of his waistband, palming the demon blade. He scans the immediate area, looking for something or someone out of place but finding nothing.

He subtly flips the weapon around so his jacket hides it and proceeds down the sidewalk toward his place of employment. As he approaches the door, he slips the blade back into his waistband, enters, ducking under the clanging brass bell, and smiles as Mr. Clark pokes his head out from the store room.

“Hey Sam, perfect timing. We got a delivery needing unpacked.”

“I’ll get on it, sir,” he says, pulling off his backpack and jacket and stashing them under the counter. He grabs his apron and heads to the storeroom, stopping to see what’s on top of the cellophane-wrapped pallet.

An oversized cupcake with a lit candle reminds him of last year’s birthday, the last one he’d ever spend with Dean.

“We weren’t going to let you skip your birthday,” Mr. Clark says. “It’s your favorite, spiced applesauce, and I’m taking you home for dinner.” Sam tries to interrupt but Mr. Clark talks over him. “ I know you use your dinner break to study, but we’re closing early tonight, so you don’t get behind. Marianne is whipping up that vegetable lasagna you like and….” 

Sam doesn’t hear the rest of Mr. Clark’s plan for the evening as the memory of his last birthday replays in his mind. He feels unshed tears prickling, hearing in his mind the whiskey-roughened voice he sorely misses.

“Sammy, make a wish.”

“Don’t have to; it’s come true.”

Laying on Dean's bed curled against his big brother's flannel-clad side, they split Sam’s birthday cupcake like when they were kids, He sighs in contentment as calloused fingers trail down his cheek, and he turns, wrapping his arm tightly around Dean's waist, reiterating, "I love you."

Dean pulls his head down for a slow, sensual kiss, then murmurs, "This is good, right?"

Sam speaks against his lips. “We’re together; that’s all I need.”

***

Sam places the leftovers in his fridge, grabs a beer, sits at the kitchenette table, fires up his laptop, and begins rereading the last paragraph he’d written for class. Sometime later, his phone vibrates. Glancing at the lit screen, Sam sees it’s 11:59 PM. His heart rate speeds up when he recognizes the number. It stops, but then the screen flashes again, and he picks it up.

“Hello?” There’s nothing but silence on the other end. “I know it’s you. What do you want?” The line goes dead. 

Sam gets up and walks to the window, and there she is, her black and chrome exterior gleaming in the streetlight's glow.

Baby.

Sam scans the street but doesn’t spot her owner. He grabs the demon blade and unlocks the door cautiously stepping onto the top step to find a four-pack of Margiekugels lager, minus one. The Impala’s engine roars to life and he watches her peel out, disappearing into the darkness.

With that offering, they start their new yearly tradition of celebrating Sam’s birthday.

Epilogue

Decades later 

11:59 PM

“Come on, Sammy, where are you?”

Something is off. Sam is always punctual for his annual visitation. Dean crosses his arms as he leans against his latest borrowed vehicle and frowns as a strange emotion crawls up from deep inside.

He’s antsy, a thing he hasn’t been in decades. He knows something is wrong when his watch beeps on the hour.

Pushing off the fender, Dean does the one thing he promised himself not to do all those long years ago and walks toward the house. 

Getting closer to the two-story home, it dawns on him that the warding he usually senses surrounding the structure is lessening. As he places one booted foot on the front porch's bottom step, someone opens the front door but remains inside, shadowed by the light cast from another room.

Dean climbs the steps and cautiously crosses the wide porch to the threshold. He’s not greeted by his younger brother but, for the first time, he comes eye-to-eye with his namesake. Dean feels pride that the younger man shows no fear as they study each other.  

His nephew resembles their late father, John, and has his mother's dark eyes. All the golden-hued skin and that hair , though —right down to those stupid flippies at the ends— is all Sam.

“Dad’s been agitated all night. I’m glad he remembers what today is.”

The demon ponders his words, watching Dean Jr. pick up a flathead screwdriver and hammer, squat down, and pry up the threshold to reveal a solid salt block that looks like it’s been under there for years. He starts to use the implements on it when Dean interrupts. “Don’t be stupid, kid. You know what I am, right?”

“Yeah, a knight of Hell.” The kid pushes up his sleeve, revealing an anti-possession tattoo in the same spot where Dean carries the Mark of Cain. “Dad taught me about the things that exist in the dark.”  

Crossing his arms, the demon watches his nephew knock a piece loose, wondering what game he’s playing. 

The kid stands up and places the items on a small table. “Please, Uncle Dean, I know Dad wants to see you.” He turns, leaving the door open.

The prickling from the warding within the house's walls stings but doesn’t stop Dean from crossing the threshold into the foyer. He suddenly becomes overwhelmed by the presence of his Sammy, as if his essence has adhered to the home's structure.

A rhythmic beeping pulls Dean out of his wonderment and, venturing further inwards, he peers around in curiosity. The wallpapered rooms have various patterns but the same theme running through them: some variety of sunflowers, Kansas’ state flower and Sam’s small way of honoring their birthplace.

He follows the beeping down the hallway, hearing it suddenly speed up, then his nephew's voice carries out of the room. Low and soft, the kid says, “Dad, I’ll reestablish the warding afterward. I wasn’t going to let you miss his visit.” 

Dean moves closer, eavesdropping on the conversation, and can’t help smiling at his brother's response. While sounding faded and worn, he still has an edge to his words. 

“I remember Dad saying that to you, Sammy. Never thought I’d hear it from your lips,” Dean recalls, stepping into the doorway quickly suppressing his shock.

Sam, his ginormous little brother, the obsessive health nut who jogged every day and drove him batshit crazy with his lectures about unhealthy habits while chomping on salads like a rabbit, is lying on a hospital bed. He looks so…fragile.

He watches Sam’s eyes quickly shift to his son, then back, using the pleading, puppy dog expression he’d always used radiating from them. “Dude, calm down before you stroke out! I’m not going to try anything. Remember our deal?” 

Sam’s eyes narrow slightly, conveying loud and clear, shut the fuck up, Dean!  

Their silent conversation makes the kid blink. “Wow, those books weren’t exaggerating. You two do that whole secret communication thing.” Gently laying his hand on his father's arm, he says, “And I know you two made some kind of deal years ago. Mom told me I wasn’t to interfere, no matter what.”

Sam sighs and smiles fondly. “Your mother somehow always knew things.”

“That’s because she was a witch,” the kid jokes. “I’m going to give you guys some privacy.” He sets a phone on the medicine-laden table next to the bed. “Text me when y'all finish.” 

They stare at each other as the front door closes and the porch swing begins creaking. Sam points his long finger toward the adjacent dining room. “You want a drink?”

“Nah , I’m good. So how long,” Dean asks, waving at the medical equipment.

“Doctors transferred me to hospice a few days ago and said it could be anytime now. And would you sit down,” Sam huffs. “It hurts my neck having to look up nowadays.”

“Sorry.” Dean sits on the chair by his bed. “So, what you got?” His eyes widen, and he drops a hand to cover his lap. “It’s not…testicular cancer?”

“Oh my god, Dean, seriously? No!” Sam spits out in his exasperated tone, but his eyes contain amusement, looking pointedly at his hand. “Remember when we didn’t think we would make it past thirty, let alone get old?” Dean nods, and Sam exhales tiredly. “All those years of hunting finally caught up with me.”

The feelings of sadness and elation simultaneously slam Dean. His soul is mournful that Sam’s mortality is ending, but the demon is gleeful that he will soon become what he was originally destined for and rejoin him for eternity.

Sam turns his head toward the fireplace, looking at the photographs of memories they shared and new ones created after they separated.

“I’ve had a good life. Some experiences I definitely could have done without, but in the end, it was worth all of it.” They sit silently, like they used to, neither needing anything more than each other’s company.

“What was her name?” Sam asks out of nowhere. “Made you try on her panties?” Sam’s lips twitch at the unasked question flashing across Dean's face, then answers. “Cas. He never could keep a secret when he drank a liquor store.”

“That dick ,”  Dean harrumphs, then says, “Rhonda Hurley. They were pink. And satiny. I kinda liked it.” Dean decides turnabout is fair play and asks, “Did you let Becky punch your V card on your wedding night?”

The brothers continue their teasing reminiscence until Sam starts fading. Dean texts his namesake, enters the dining room, pours himself a drink, then goes outside to sit on the porch swing. Sipping on the whiskey, he hears Sam’s son.

“Dad. It’s okay. You can go now.”

****

His shifting makes the Impala's leather creak loudly as the scant images from his dream dissipate with consciousness.  He hears his brother moving about but doesn’t open his eyes yet. 

“Dude, I had the weirdest dream,” Sam drowsily says, stretching out his long legs and freezing, his brain screaming something isn’t right. He hasn’t been able to fully extend his legs across the backseat since he was fifteen and shot up three inches in as many months.

Opening his eyes, Sam stares at a ceiling that isn’t Baby’s roof or the popcorn kind commonly found in the dingy one-star motels they frequent. He sits up, figuring out the creaking is from a medical bed, gazes around, and his memories come rushing back. He turns his head, finds Dean sitting in the dining room with his boots on the table, and gives him bitchface #104. 

‘Sorry,” Dean apologizes and removes them from the antique table. 

Sam examines his hands, rubbing his skin and flexing his fingers. “Dean, how…?”

“Remember that witch bitch Rowena?” Sam’s brow furrows at the name. “Turns out she’s Crowley's mother. I discovered she created a resurrection spell and persuaded her to tweak it to include de-aging you back to 2015.”

Sam slides off the bed. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if she didn’t set it to 1995 for whatever you did to get it from her.” He pauses and finds the house is too quiet. “Where’s my son?”

“He said he couldn’t say goodbye twice and decided to visit Claire and her wife, Kaia. I’ve arranged to have everything straightened up before he returns.”

Sam closes the distance between them and, wrapping his large hand around the back of Dean’s head, bends down to kiss him in thanks.

“If that’s my reward for hiring a cleaning service, what do I get for bringing you back? Fifth base?” Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Sam ignores the question and takes his brother's hand, entwining their fingers and tugging for him to follow. Dean grumbles, “I’m not a thirteen-year-old girl,” but follows Sam like always. 

Leading his brother to an outbuilding on the back of the property, Sam opens the door and gallantly says, “After you, mi’lady.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean sees a familiar shape under a draped canvas and turns back to Sam. 

Happiness exudes from his yellow eyes and he’s smiling so hard that those dimples Dean sorely missed are on full display. “I kept her in the exact condition when you gifted her to me.”

“Had to do something monumental for your fiftieth birthday,” Dean says, ripping the canvas off and strolling around to inspect the Impala. “You did a decent job caring for her. Not as good as me, but, you know.” Running his hand up her polished fender and over the roof, Dean asks, “Did you miss me, Baby?” 

“If you two need a minute,” Sam snarks, and Dean flips him off, continuing to examine his — their— car, halted by a calling he hasn’t felt in decades.

“What…?” Dean instinctively catches the keys tossed to him. 

“Under the seat,” Sam replies, watching with glee as his brother, the last remaining knight of Hell, unwraps the cloth from around the old jawbone. 

“You gave it to Crowley. How’d you…?”

“Locator spell I concocted.” 

Dean appears confused.  Wasn’t the whole point of their separation that Sam wanted normal?

“Turns out I had a talent for spell work. I couldn’t get it myself, and finding someone powerful enough to retrieve it took a long time. But they owed me a favor, so,” he nods to Dean's hands.

“Speaking of owing, I’ve got a big ass list of those who’ve screwed us over and over,” Dean says, going to the trunk. He unlocks it, lifts the hidden compartment, and reveals their monster-hunting arsenal. It’s grown since John Winchester first put his guns and ammo inside. During their active years, his sons continued adding items to the collection. Dean drops the First Blade next to the Demon Blade as his brother joins him. Gazing into the trunk, Sam reaches up for the lid.

“We’ve got work to do.”

Finis

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx  @lyarr24 @flamencodiva   @lassie-bird  @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r @elmolovesw33d

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Tagging if interested: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys  @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @kazsrm67 @deans-spinster-witch

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Do the other characters go with pomni like the main cast if so what do they do

I don't really have the energy to type out a long answer, so I'll summarize

Quinnie:

Charges at an enemy like a bull. If successful, slams them three times into a wall before falling back

Performs a ground slam that's weaker, but faster, more consecutive and longer than the General's

Unleashes a swarm of mechanical insects to wilt down small chunks of health

Kaufmo:

Pulls out party tricks (confettis, pies, flour balloons etc.) to disorient enemies

Has a comically large bat for "pinatas"

Puts out an electric mine that once pressed, stuns an enemy early (that one annoying handshake buzzer prank, except bigger)

Mogu, Richard and Maxwell:

Tag teaming for maximum efficiency and disorienting enemies

Lasso pulling

Mogu tosses one of the bois and they start ripping mechanisms on the back of the enemy, stealing a cog... or two... or three.... okay maybe a lot more than five

Scarlet (according to what I know):

Camouflage/ambush attacks

Smoke bombs

Slash attacks with the arm blades

In case it wasn't obvious yet, yeah the automatons are typically stun based, with the exception of Jax; who prefers damage overall.

Sunny, Moonie, Martha and Lalu don't fight. They prefer to stay back in the manor instead and just chill. (as the girlies should)

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Hubble captures a pale blue supernova in galaxy LEDA 22057

This NASA/ESA Hubble Space Telescope Picture of the Week features the galaxy LEDA 22057, which is located about 650 million light-years away in the constellation Gemini. Like the subject of a previous Picture of the Week, LEDA 22057 is the site of a supernova explosion.

This particular supernova, named SN 2024PI, was discovered by an automated survey in January 2024. The survey covers the entire northern half of the night sky every two days and has cataloged more than 10,000 supernovae.

The supernova is visible in the image: Located just down and to the right of the galactic nucleus, the pale blue dot of SN 2024PI stands out against the galaxy's ghostly spiral arms. This image was taken about a month and a half after the supernova was discovered, so the supernova is seen here many times fainter than its maximum brilliance.

SN 2024PI is classified as a Type Ia supernova. This type of supernova requires a remarkable object called a white dwarf, the crystallized core of a star with a mass less than about eight times the mass of the sun. When a star of this size uses up the supply of hydrogen in its core, it balloons into a red giant, becoming cool, puffy and luminous.

Over time, pulsations and stellar winds cause the star to shed its outer layers, leaving behind a white dwarf and a colorful planetary nebula. White dwarfs can have surface temperatures higher than 100,000 degrees and are extremely dense, packing roughly the mass of the sun into a sphere the size of Earth.

While nearly all of the stars in the Milky Way will one day evolve into white dwarfs—this is the fate that awaits the sun some five billion years in the future—not all of them will explode as Type Ia supernovae. For that to happen, the white dwarf must be a member of a binary star system.

When a white dwarf siphons material from a stellar partner, the white dwarf can become too massive to support itself. The resulting burst of runaway nuclear fusion destroys the white dwarf in a supernova explosion that can be seen many galaxies away.