#there is a character that i actually know little to nothing about and another character who i thought i knew

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 6

(Quickly running out of Monster men drawings to use as my chapter pictures. May be a hot minute until I get the next chapter out since my laptop can barely stay conscious long enough to draw another one and I want to only use the monster AU versions of the characters for this series.)

Warnings; multiple yanderes, platonic yanderes, romantic yanderes, monster AU, eating Humans mentioned, more AU history, Cater is not having a very Cay-Cay day, food is an excellent way to bring groups together, Fauns, Satyrs, Kelpies, Crow Fae, Unicorns, Water Nymphs, vampire bats, dragons, cervitaurs, Raiju, Mermen, Cecaelia, Gnolls,

~~~~~~~~

Lunch finally rolled around and you were surprised that Ace and Deuce had actually taken Trey's words seriously and accompanied you to classes. Ace had loudly complained about his volunteering for a little bit but once he saw how many students actually took an interest in you, he stopped complaining and started viewing the task as a kind of important role only he could do. Naturally, Deuce was far less irate about the situation though there were times he almost came across as a punk when it came to others trying to harass you. Both had adjusted well to being around you and come lunch Deuce was actually taking pride in explaining things to you.

"-and that's what makes Fauns different from Satyrs."

"So Fauns are the nicer version of Satyrs?"

"For the most part. Satyrs are known for being loud and always wanting to fight-"

Ace cut Deuce off, shoving an uncooked carrot into the Faun's mouth to silence him. You had seen the two interact and you got the distinct feeling that the Faun and Satyr had more of a brotherly relationship with one another. Where they both had different personalities, when they did agree on something it was practically a law to them.

It was fascinating to hear that these monster men had similar names to the mythical creatures from your world and you wondered why such an overlap existed. Maybe the Humans from your world did interact with this world in the past, or maybe it was just a coincidence. Still, it seemed almost too close to be mere coincidence.

"Anyway, now that Dunce here is done talking-"

"You know my name is Deuce-"

"Like I said, now that Dunce is done talking, I have questions for you, (Y/n)."

You almost laughed at the back and forth banter of the two Goats- Faun and Satyr respectively- as their voices fumbled over one another. Truth was, you had been expecting far more questions than the few they threw at you between classes, so now was as good a time as any to ask.

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

"So, you don't have magic? Like, at all?"

"No magic whatsoever. Where I came from, magic is a myth and no creatures have magic."

"Okay. But how do Humans survive? No horns, no claws, nothing to protect themselves from bigger creatures."

"We make weapons. I know you all have bows, arrows, and knives, we have the same. Guns too, but I haven't seen any guns used here."

"Wait, what is a gun?"

"Basically an automatic bow that fires little pieces of metal using explosive powder that needs a spark which launches the metal through their target."

Ace seemed almost excited by your vague explanation of a gun, opening his mouth to ask you another question. His voice died in his throat as his gaze locked onto something behind you, prompting you to turn around to look at whatever it was that had unsettled Ace.

Standing not too far from you was the large figure of the Horse-man Trey. Ace told you he was a Kelpie, but you just couldn't make that connection seeing as he looked like a big white horse and not a water kelp-horse like Kelpies were supposed to be. He was clearly making good on his threat to check in as he approached you with a patient smile on his face.

"Hello (Y/n), have Heartslabyul's first-years been adequate guides for you today?"

"Yes. Grim doesn't even have to try half as hard to keep me safe now and I haven't been late to any of my classes other than the first one."

Trey gave a genuine smile at this, nodding his head as he was pleased to know his choice had been a good one. Seeing the centaur made you wonder about Cater and what may have become of the air-head student. In some ways, you worried asking would have a negative effect, but you were so curious you couldn't help but inquire about him.

"So... What happened to Cater?"

"He is being dealt with by the Headmage. He's lucky he isn't going to get expelled for what he did, but once the Headmage is done with his punishment, he's going to be turned over to Riddle."

"Is Riddle mad about all of this?"

"Well... I actually haven't told Riddle yet. He has a short fuse and isn't going to take Cater's actions well, especially since he asked both Cater and I to protect you if we happened across you. Odds are Cater is going to be collared and kicked out of his room for the foreseeable future."

This made you frown in contemplation at the prospect of the Red-haired student being punished too harshly. Though you were upset Cater took photos of you without asking and likely set several poachers on your trail, you didn't want harm to come to him. Sure, he was stupid and made a stupid choice, but he shouldn't be hurt or kicked out of his home for it.

"... If he is kicked out of his room, is there anywhere else he can go?"

"No. Riddle is very strict about rule-breakers being banned from the dorms so long as they have one of his collars on, and most other dorms aren't keen to house a student that isn't theirs. He's probably going to be sleeping in the Heartslabyul lake if Riddle doesn't ban him from there too."

The morality of the issue weighed on you and made you worry about the ditzy redhead. Though you didn't really trust Cater or his clearly impaired decision making skills, you still felt like he deserved basic decency despite his actions. You knew firsthand how the creatures that lived around campus were genuinely terrifying and dangerous, so you didn't want him thrown to the metaphorical or actual wolves.

"Can... can Cater stay in my dorm?"

Your question earned you several dubious looks from the Goats and Trey as if you had grown another head or said something unhinged. Even Grim had to pause his hesitant raw veggie medley- the only thing the cafeteria served today- to stare at you in surprise.

"You- you want Cater in your dorm? Why?"

"Well, it wasn't like he knew what he was doing was bad, and I don't think he should be left outside for his poor choice."

"(Y/n), do you realize how vicious poachers are in Twisted Wonderland? You will be hunted every moment of every day because Cater couldn't keep himself from posting you to that stupid Magicam app he is obsessed with. The second you are unguarded you will be attacked. The Headmage is even considering assigning Sam and Vargas to your dorm just to make sure poachers can't get in, or even moving you to Diasomnia so Malleus can protect you. I don't think you understand just how seriously we need to take your safety."

"I'm just a Human though, I'm not a princess or someone important. Why all the fuss?"

Your comment made Trey let out a long and exasperated sigh, his gaze leaving your confused form as he tried to keep in mind just how new you were to their world. Humans were never just Humans in Twisted Wonderland, and them simply dying out has made a far felt ripple in the history of every known species. For so long, so many species had adored and tried to protect Humans, but even they couldn't save the fragile species from the hunger so many magic users had for their very flesh.

Most things in the technological realm and cooking realm- pastries and phones included- only existed because Humans led the way to them being invented. Even now, technology has been mostly stagnant for over a hundred years with only the Shrouds having any aptitude as far as advancements were concerned. Trey himself had Humanity to thank for his family's bakery and the many cuisines local to the Queendom of Roses.

"(Y/n), Humans have never been 'just Humans' to us. Maybe to Sunset Savana, but never to the Queendom of Roses. Even Briar Valley had laws in place to protect your kind from everyone else. I get you may not understand it, but compared to most other species, Humans were better than most in the emotional and critical thinking department. It was Humans creating new inventions, coming up with unique ideas, and above all else, peacekeeping between the various species and races to the point they were called Beast-Tamers. Most wouldn't even speak to their Fae counterparts until Humans got the two to interact amicably."

You were somewhat surprised to hear all of this, having been under the impression that Humans were mainly pets to the other species. It was interesting to hear what Humans were credited for and that despite all they did to help, they were still hunted as food until extinction. The few from Savanaclaw you interacted with had been both sides of the spectrum of threatening you or being peaceful to you and it made you wonder just what kind of species were still keen to get a taste of your forbidden flesh.

"Honestly," Trey continued, "I wouldn't be surprised if several Kingdoms and Queendoms sent ambassadors to take you away from Night Raven for your own safety. I just know the international law makers are going to have a field day the moment it becomes common knowledge that you're here."

It made sense that Trey was stressed about this, you knew from your own home how aggressively endangered and near-extinct species had to be protected, but you still felt Cater shouldn't carry all the blame. If it wasn't Cater, it would have been someone else. Just because he was the fool to do it first didn't mean that others wouldn't have tried or succeeded in the same endeavor.

"Still, if he gets kicked out of the dorms tonight, will you at least tell him I will let him stay with me?"

"If you really want me to," he sighed heavily, "I guess I can tell Cater about your offer. I won't tell Riddle though, knowing how that Unicorn is, he will actually harm Cater for even thinking about taking shelter with you after what he's done."

~•§•~

"HE DID WHAT?!"

Riddle was beside himself with rage and even stomped his hooves against the marble floors of the Headmage's office, almost cracking the stone with his rage. Cater was trying to sink into his chair and hide from the Sophomore Housewarden who was beyond the point of furious with the water Nymph. Not only did he get a dressing-down from the Headmage, but he was going to be thrown at the mercy of his own Housewarden who was known for being an absolute hard-ass on rule breakers.

"It wasn't like I was trying to target her! I just-"

"SILENCE! YOU WILL SPEAK WHEN SPOKEN TO, CATER DIAMOND!"

The firm tone Riddle used made Cater shut his mouth and bow his head, trying to avoid upsetting the Unicorn further. There was no way he would be able to go back to his room at this rate and odds are he would be sleeping in the forest if Riddle had anything to say about it. Plus, he still had that essay to write for Trein that was due tomorrow.

"He apparently took a selfie with (Y/n) and posted it to Magicam with hashtags indicating she is Human. By the time I got him to delete the post, it had been downloaded several thousand times. Since then I have already received a call from the Royal Sword Academy Headmage to confirm a Human lives here now, and what we as the heads of our schools can do to protect her. No doubt representatives from Briar Valley and the Queendom of Roses have already been dispatched and will arrive on the island soon enough, not to mention how many poachers are likely on their way here as we speak."

Cater knew how upset Riddle was given the fact the Unicorn's horn was humming loudly with magic and the Unicorn himself was a bright red. Things really weren't coming up Cay-Cay today.

"OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!"

~•§•~

You felt a bit more comfortable with the school as a whole by the time classes had finished for the day. Practical Magical Theory was an interesting class, even if you really didn't have the faintest idea what they were talking about. According to Ace, you were lucky you didn't have Flight Class because there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to participate in the class itself. Still, you were happy to have a moment to let things settle down for a bit.

Ace and Deuce walked you to your dorm, but had been called to Heartslabyul by a quick text from Trey, leaving you alone in the dorm with Grim. Despite the beginning of the day being an absolute wash, the rest of the day hadn't been too bad. It was around this time you decided you may as well start on making some dinner. You could hear Grim's stomach growling already as you both went to the kitchen.

"Are you gonna make something good like you did for breakfast?"

"I'm going to try to."

"What are you gonna make?"

"Well, I was thinking we have the stuff here for a really nice soup-"

You were promptly cut off by the Kitchen door swinging open with a loud bang. Clearly, you were going to have to tell the professors or even the Headmage Crow about securing that side door given how it had already been used twice by others seeking to get into your dorm. Luckily for you, those that walked through the door had at least two familiar faces in the group.

"Sorry for interrupting," Lilia called out, happily making his way over to you in an almost bouncy gait, much like a bird hopping around, "hope you don't mind I brought Malleus, Silver, and Sebek too. I heard one of the Heartslabyul students blew the whistle on you being here in NRC. Figured you could use a bit of extra protection in case any poachers try their luck. Besides, the nest here is just as big as Malleus' nest in Diasomnia."

It was then Malleus spoke, his voice a deep rumble in his chest as he looked over you.

"They will not lay a hand upon my hoard without paying with their lives for such a transgression."

It was clear the Dragon was not happy with the events that took place and he seemed to be quite content claiming you as one of his Hoard. When Lilia explained it to you last night, apparently the moment Malleus decided he was adding someone to his Hoard, he became extremely attached to that person and would even become violent in their defense. Given the way others talked about him, he must have been a genuinely frightening and powerful person to command such fear and respect.

"... So does that mean I'm making soup for all of you or..?"

"If you don't mind. I certainly want another bite of your cooking, (Y/n)!"

Lilia took his perch back on the counter and swung his feet, seeming rather impish and almost childish in his behavior. You just shrugged and nodded, gathering enough ingredients to feed the group several times over. Your hope was that there would be some left over for you to take during lunches. As nice as it was to have raw foods once in a while, you'd rather your meals be cooked.

Grim clearly only trusted Lilia and sat next to the Bat to watch you bustle around the kitchen. He even let out a soft purr when Lilia began to pet his forehead and ears. Where you would have scolded them for sitting on the counter, it wasn't like you didn't have enough counter space already. Starting the broth and preparation was rather simple for you and it was clear those standing around you were keen to watch you prepare the soup.

"(Y/n)," Grim meowed, "where did you learn to do all this fancy stuff?"

"Humans usually cook their food. So I just learned while growing up. Of course there are some things you can have without cooking, like a sandwich or a fruit salad, but most big meals are better cooked. Now, that doesn't mean every Human can cook well, but most are good enough at it."

"So does that mean I can have more of the food you cook?"

"Like a bigger portion? No. But you will always get to have some of whatever I make, okay?"

Grim purred loudly at this, his face lighting up with an excited smile. Clearly the little creature was pleased with your arrangement even if it meant he had to go to boring classes with you. The food was absolutely worth it and he got to sleep in a mountain of pillows and blankets after a long day. It was all way better than the hole in the ground he occupied when he wasn't actively running for his life before he met you.

Once you got most of the soup started, you knew it just needed to be covered and cooked, listening idly to Lilia talk with the others about the events of breakfast and the Gnoll that invited himself in. It was when you finally got this moment that you took a good look at the other two visitors who were either Silver or Sebek, seeing as Lilia didn't point out who was who.

Much to your surprise, one of them reminded you of the Kelpie and Unicorn you had met earlier but he had an obvious three point antler rack attached to his head. His lower half was that of a reindeer and was fairly fluffy compared to the short coats of the Kelpie and Unicorn. Part of you wanted to test if he was as soft as he looked, but you figured it would not be considered appropriate to pet him.

The second new face was an almost canine like man with pale green hair that was slicked back and spiked up at the ends. His eyes were intense as was the apparent scowl that held his features, two sharply pointed dog ears atop his head. Bright yellow-green eyes tracked your every move and regarded you with as much curiosity as you regarded him. The similar medium length tail fur swayed lazily as his tail slowly began to wag when you looked at him.

The soup was beginning to smell rather good and it was clear four of the five others in the kitchen were taking note as they occasionally sniffed the air. Lilia, Grim, Silver, and Sebek were clearly keenly interested in the scent but it was Malleus' behavior that caught your attention. Instead of sniffing or lifting his nose as the others did, his forked tongue slowly slid from between his lips like a snake as if he were tasting the air. You almost laughed at the oddly reptile behavior before his gaze suddenly snapped to the door of the kitchen.

Standing in the doorway was a curious looking man that seemed to have fins on the sides of his head. His almost scaled skin had a kind of faint green tint to it with intense blue undertones, his eyes being two different colors with the right one being a pale gray and the left one being a bright gold. Atop his head were tousled blue-green locks with a singular black stripe that crossed over his forehead above his left eye.

"Oya, it seems I'm not the only one with culinary interests. Apologies for intruding, but the lovely smell drew me in. Would you mind telling me what it is you're making?"

You were surprised to see the almost Fish-like man despite how polite he was being with you. Instead of hopping in to defend you, Lilia looked at you for what you wanted to do with this interloper. Malleus seemed rather keen to rid you of this newcomer's presence but you held up a hand to stop him from acting. Part of you worried this new visitor was dangerous, but because he was wearing a school uniform you figured he was just another student.

"Soup?"

"... May I ask what kind?"

"Only if you tell me your name first and what you were doing around my dorm."

"Ah, forgive me. It seems in my haste to get to the heart of the matter, I forgot my manners. My name is Jade Leach, I'm the Vice-Housewarden of Octavinelle. I'm going to assume from your appearance you are the highly talked-of Human now living on campus. Azul informed us that you would be remaining here for the time being. As for what I was doing, I am rather interested in the foods that grow wild above water, so I was out gathering some mushrooms to sample."

He lifted the foraging bag that hung over his shoulder, showing you the contents within. He was right in that he had gathered up a fair few number of mushrooms and there were several that you actually recognized. You were no master of mushrooms- of course- but you still recognized a few species that were safe for you to eat, seeing several button mushrooms among the many gathered.

Those would be great in the soup you were making, and it was early enough that you could add them right in and they would cook just fine.

"Okay, Jade. I believe you were at least out gathering mushrooms which is innocent enough. I'm actually curious if you wanted to trade for some of those button mushrooms you have, they'd go great in the soup I'm making. In return I'll tell you about it and you can have some to eat if you'd like."

Jade actually seemed to brighten up at this, his smile becoming less strained and his expression smoothing from the stressed way his brows had been pulled together. It was almost as if he had been wanting to ask for some soup but was far too polite to actually inquire. He nodded and set his bag on the counter, letting you pick out the little rounded white mushrooms from the selection he gathered.

"I'm quite partial to the cuisines the different kingdoms have to offer. Rare as it can be to find those who are masters of their craft, I would still like to sample the meals above the ocean waves. I would be grateful for whatever knowledge you can share with me. It isn't every day that someone adept at cooking graces this school."

"Hey," Grim interrupted loudly as you set to dicing the mushrooms, "that's my Hooman you're talking to! She only cooks for me, but I'm kind enough to share with all of you. Don't forget it, got it?"

Jade gave a rather patient simper to your primary companion, resting his right hand over his heart in an almost polite gesture.

"But of course. I'm simply interested in learning to make such meals for myself. I'm certain Azul and Floyd would be keen to taste such a wonderful smelling dish."

This seemed to satisfy your little companion as he nodded with a pleased smile, watching you add the mushrooms to the rather large pot you decided to make the soup in. Thankfully it was a cauldron type pot made for cooking soups over firepits. The fire so dutifully warming your meal crackled pleasantly even as you stirred the bubbling mixture.

"Do you want to ask them to come over, Jade? I made way too much. Honestly, everyone here could all have a bowl, a second bowl, and I would still have enough soup for the rest of the week. I think I went a little overboard in the food department. Should have probably started with a smaller pot, but we're already this far..."

Jade seemed surprised at this, but nodded respectfully and pulled out his phone. You were curious just what Jade was as you really hadn't seen many fish-men during your day, but you weren't going to ask him. If he wanted to tell you what he was, that was his business. Didn't make you any less curious though.

"If you're certain? I'm sure Floyd will be thrilled to have something new to try. He doesn't like some mushrooms, but I don't believe he has tried the ones you've selected, and he certainly hasn't tried cooked mushrooms yet. Azul may try to heckle you into a deal, however. He is always looking for new ways to improve the Monstro Lounge."

"Yeah, of course I'm certain. I offered, didn't I?"

He nodded and began tapping away at his phone, but Lilia seemed rather keen to speak up. The Bat had been listening keenly to the conversation and felt he needed to make himself clear to the notoriously crafty student.

"If Azul threatens (Y/n) or tries to force her into a deal, we will have more than a few problems, understood?"

"He is aware. Believe it or not, those of us from the Coral Sea are actually quite fond of the legacy of Humans. Even Floyd has been babbling excitedly about meeting (Y/n) here."

"That's right, Humans were popular among the various merfolk kingdoms. You all even have a famous story involving the mermaid princess falling for a Human and joining him on land."

"Yes. She struck a deal with The Sea Witch to gain legs she could use to dance for the Human man she fell in love with, too bad the deal didn't hide her gills or fins though. Still, the Human loved her."

You listened to the conversation as you stirred the soup, glad that all of the flavors seemed to be coming together rather well despite the large amount of food you found yourself making. Judging from the conversation Lilia and Jade happened to be having, Jade was a Merman of some kind and apparently Mermen were one of the 'safe species' for Humans to interact with. Though you knew not to judge an individual by the species, it did put you at ease to know he was one of the safer ones.

It was as you were taste testing the soup that the door to the kitchen once again flew open as another visitor invited themselves in. It was offical now, four times proved it was far too easy to get into your dorm through that door. Maybe Lilia would be able to fix it for you, or Malleus seeing as Lilia said it was the Dragon who had mostly fixed up your current abode.

"(Y/n), you're an absolute angel! I thought I was going to have to sleep in the woods once Riddle temporarily banned me from Heartslabuyl! He won't even let me sleep in the lake even though I'm a Lake Water Nymph because of what happened. You believe me when I say I didn't mean to put you in danger, right?"

Cater had thrown himself at your feet, holding onto your legs as if he were some abandoned pet seeking shelter from a blizzard. Around his neck was a thick metal collar that extended out to the sides in black and red colors, forming a heart-shape that locked in the front with a golden and black padlock. He was careful not to get in the fire that was dutifully cooking your soup even as he groveled at your feet.

"O-oi! What's the big idea with everyone coming in that door? It's dangerous to leave that thing unlocked."

"That's what I'm saying! So much for protected and safe with that thing in here."

You couldn't help but slightly grin at Grim as he voiced your own concerns out loud. Lilia simply regarded the door, snapping his fingers to close it as a large metal bolt affixed itself to the door before clicking into place.

"There. Now it can't be thrown open anymore. But why is Cater here? Cater, when did Riddle collar you and why?"

Cater seemed to realize there were others standing around you as he suddenly straightened up, clearing his throat and taking several steps back from you. He tried to play off the desperate display he had just shown and was failing miserably. Cater looked much worse for wear than you remembered him being and you genuinely began to hope the Unicorn hadn't actually harmed the ditzy redhead.

"Well... I may have 'accidentally' posted a picture that told everyone that (Y/n) was a Human and was on NRC grounds, but I totes didn't realize it would put her in danger! Honestly!"

Lilia's bemused smile almost instantly fell away into a glare as he regarded the man standing by your side. You added a bit of salt to the soup as you wated, watching the thick broth bubble and roil with vegtables and diced meat. There were a lot of things you could do in that moment, but something told you it was best to let Lilia handle this situation.

"And what did you think was going to happen, Cater?"

"Tbh, I thought that I would just get a follower count boost and everything would be fine. The Headmage and Riddle sure made it clear I was wrong for thinking that. Lessons learned!"

"It only cost us the safety of the last Human left in Twisted Wonderland."

"I said I was sorry!"

Everyone except Cater seemed to be exceptionally upset as they all glared at him, making him duck behind you as if you were the best shield from their rage. You just let the tall student try and fail to escape the ire of the others. For once, a polite knock came at the kitchen door, breaking off the aggressive staredown taking place.

"Hey, why are we here, Azul?"

An almost sing-song voice hummed from somewhere on the other side of the door, prompting Jade to walk over and open the door for who you assumed to be the two he was talking about. In strode a rather lovely looking man with snow-white hair and shining mauve blue eyes hidden behind thin framed glasses. Around his face were lovely and intricate black markings that reminded you quite a bit of the tentacles of an octopus. Behind him lumbered a rather tall man who almost looked identical to Jade if not for the swapped eye color and slight difference in height.

"We're here because Jade told me there is a profitable venture to be had and I am not going to miss out on this chance to make the Human's acquaintance, Floyd."

The shorter one hummed in a smooth voice and you almost giggled at the rather fact-of-the-matter tone that the white haired one spoke with. You felt it was safe to assume the rather lovely man was Azul and the near identical to Jade fish-man walking with him was Floyd.

Floyd almost made a show of sniffing the air, following his nose to where you stood in front of the pot of soup, watching him curiously. Once his gaze fell on you a wide grin overtook the slight frown he had been pouting with. You could see the way his eyes trailed over your figure due to the bright yellow of his right eye highlighting his pupil as it darted up and down.

"Ne ne, what is such a cute little Shrimpy doing this far above the water? You're so small I just want to squeeze ya."

He took a single step towards you and this seemed to be enough for the two- Silver and Sebek- to suddenly intercept him with swords drawn, creating an 'X' that blocked the tall Merman from approaching further. It was more than a little surprising to see weapons suddenly drawn, but maybe you shouldn't be all that surprised. Lilia did say he came over to guard you again and even brought the others for the same purpose.

"Hey, I'm not gonna hurt them, I just want a little feel on if Shrimpy is as soft as they look!"

"Floyd, that's enough. She was polite enough to allow me to invite you and Azul over and she is quite the rare specimen, you can't threaten her so casually and expect those guarding her to not be upset."

"I didn't threaten, I just said I wanted a big ol' squeeze."

"Same difference where you are concerned."

"Eh, you're so boring sometimes, Jade. Anyway, what is Shrimpy making over there? Smells good~!"

You were stunned at the almost aggressive behavior from Floyd given how calm and level headed Jade had been thus far. Maybe it was just a quirk of Floyd's to be a little more hands on than others. It honestly made you glad to know your self-appointed guards took their task seriously as they still refused to let the large Merman near you. Speaking of your guards, Floyd didn't seem put off by their aggression in the slightest and almost seemed amused by them as if it were all one big game.

Tension was thick in the air as the almost aloof Floyd smiled at you, watching you grab several bowls and begin ladling out ten total servings. You were not really all that surprised when there was still more soup to go even after you filled enough bowls for yourself and the ever increasing number of guests.

Maybe you were right to make so much after all. Hopefully your surprise guests had all shown-

"Why is the door locked? Hey, Human, I smell food in there! I already ate all the Dandelions from this morning! Can I have some of whatever you're making? Please? I'm starving out here."

Peaking through the windows to the kitchen was a familiar grizzled muzzle of the Gnoll you had met that morning. Ruggie was staring with those unsettling bright blue eyes and you were unsure if you wanted to laugh or scream. You scolded yourself in the back of your mind, remembering that animals would often return to places if they were given food prior and no doubt the Hyena man sought to do the same.

"Should I let him in, (Y/n)?"

Lilia asked, eyeing the lock on the door as Ruggie began to loudly whine and cackle for attention. You just sighed and nodded, knowing the Hyena wasn't going to leave now that he knew there was food ready and waiting just inside.

"May as well."

The Gnoll was quick to enter once the door opened and he happily grabbed one of the ten bowls, immediately scarfing down the soup without even glancing at the now large group of men standing in your kitchen. You didn't bother offering a spoon to Ruggie as it was clear he didn't need or want one. Despite the odd group that had gathered under your roof- technically it was the school's roof, but now wasn't the time for semantics- they all seemed keen to dig in when you passed out the bowls.

Getting yourself a bowl- seeing as Ruggie had taken one of the ten- you were able to finally take in the meal of your labors. It wasn't half bad and those button mushrooms added just the right earthy flavor that really brought the soup together. All of your visitors clearly liked the soup as well and Grim was the first to ask for seconds.

"Miss (Y/n)! This is a fantastic meal! I don't think I've had such flavors in anything I've eaten before! I would only think a meal from my liege could possibly taste better!"

"Sebek," the white haired one interrupted the shouting one, "you don't need to yell at her."

"I'm talking at an adequate volume, Silver. You dare say this meal isn't divine?"

"That's not what I said at all."

Lilia giggled as the two odd characters argued, hopping off the counter to serve himself another helping of the plentiful soup. Despite the absolute lack of respect for your personal space they all seemed to share, you couldn't help but smile as well. The many men you had met were odd and so unique in many ways but none of them actually seemed all that bad once they relaxed and got talking.

Maybe these monsters weren't as monstrous as you thought when you first met them. Hopefully their worries of poachers would just prove to be worries, but you knew you weren't truly safe yet and anyone could be a threat if they genuinely wanted to be. You just hoped there wasn't another shoe waiting to drop on your peaceful evening.

~•§•~

"Trey?"

"Yes, Riddle?"

"Invite (Y/n) to tomorrow's Unbirthday party. It has become rather clear to me that no one can look after her the way the Queen demands, so I will step up and take on that task."

"Riddle..."

"She will be safe with me, I will do whatever it takes to ensure it."

[callsign-rogueone]

questions

Ridoc Gamlyn x reader (sweetheart!) Part three of Ridoc and Sweetheart's story words: 2.9k 🏷: no real book spoilers, this will make more sense if you've read Resson (Garrick's version) but it's not required, set a week or two into Iron Flame, this is a sweetheart chapter so warning for intrusive / self-deprecating thoughts and anxiety spirals, I made a bunch of stuff up about Ridoc's life because RY never told us anything, Rhith being a cool mom, this hasn't been proofread, oops. gonna go have a bagel now byeeee

Rhith had told you that Ridoc would meet you at the gates at eleven — so naturally you’ve been standing there since 10:45, rocking back and forth on your heels and peeling your cuticles.

Why did you agree to do this? Actually, this was your idea — why did you bring it up? What if he’s not going to show up, and you’re just going to stand here for an hour like an idiot?

“Hey! Am I late?” he asks, startling you out of your thoughts. He’s a little out of breath, like he’d ran here, but he offers you a wide smile nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak just as the bells chime. 

“Guess not,” he laughs when they’re done. “You ready to go?”

You nod, stuffing your hands into your pockets so he can’t see the state of your fingers. Thankfully it’s not too hot to wear your flight jacket. This is your first venture into town, and you don’t want to have your relic on display when you’re in a new place — just going is scary enough.

He leads the way — of course he knows where you’re going. He probably goes out every weekend with his friends; another way you’re completely different.

“I figured we could play twenty questions,” he offers. “Get to know each other a little more. You can go first, if you want.”

You take a second to remember how to speak again. “Alright, um… do you have any hobbies?”

“Coming up with jokes is pretty time consuming.”

“And here I thought they were all completely spontaneous,” you say, shaking your head. “Do you write them all down in that fabled diary of yours?”

He laughs. “Would you believe me if I said I didn’t actually have one?”

You tilt your head to the side, considering it. “Only because I don’t see you spending your free time sitting down, writing.” 

“You wound me, sweetheart. I assure you, I’m perfectly capable of writing complete sentences.”

“I never said you weren’t. I just said that I didn’t see you doing it.”

“Fair. Tell me about your book,” he prompts. “The one you’re always carrying around.”

“That’s not a question.”

He gives you a sly smile. “Well played. I’ll rephrase, then. What’s the book about? Do you like it?”

“That’s two questions.”

He laughs, warm and full. “I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Three.”

“Okay, okay. The first one, then — what's it about?”

“The main character is a trained assassin who is called before the king to join a contest to become his hitman, basically. But the contestants keep getting murdered in the night by some creature that they can’t track down.  It’s part of a series, but I’ve never seen the other volumes anywhere. I like to imagine a different ending every time I read it.”

“You’ve read it more than once?”

You ignore the fact that that’s yet another question, answering it without protest. “Yeah. I know that’s dumb, but it was the book I was in the middle of when my life went to shit. It’s technically property of the library in Aretia, but it was burnt to the ground, so I never gave it back.”

Your heart beats a little faster at the mention of your hometown, and you immediately regret bringing it up, but thankfully Ridoc seems none the wiser. 

“There’s nothing dumb about it if it makes you happy.”

You’ve just stepped into the tiny restaurant when a man that you guess is the owner sees Ridoc and pulls him into a tight hug. “I was wondering when you’d bring your girlfriend!”

Your cheeks warm, but you don’t correct him — that would be too awkward.

Ridoc doesn’t correct him either. “I set up Ezra here with ice that never melts,” he explains with a smile.

“It’s been a blessing. Keeps everything fresh longer, so I don’t have to waste it. You two sit — I’ll make you something special, on the house.” He disappears into the tiny kitchen in the back, leaving the two of you alone in the nearly-empty dining room. 

Ridoc gestures to a table in the corner, away from the door, and you settle into the chair silently. You can’t help but run through Garrick’s mental checklist — your back is to the wall, and you have clear sight of the two exits. You have a knife in your right boot and one in your left sleeve — plus the blunt one laid on the table in front of you. The fork would probably do more damage, though.

“I think it’s your turn.”

“Hm? Oh. Right.” You take a moment to look at him. “Why are you here?”

He gives you a stupid grin. “Because you asked me on a date.”

You roll your eyes. “No, I mean, why Basgiath? Why the rider’s quadrant?”

“Oh, I know. I just wanted to remind you that this whole thing was your idea. But really… probably because I’m an adrenaline junkie who feels like he has to prove to the world that he’s not an idiot. And I’ve always admired the riders and their magic. We can do some pretty cool shit.” 

There’s a pause, and his voice softens as he continues. “I know you didn’t want to be here, so I probably sound super ignorant saying all that. I do think it’s fucked up that you didn’t get a choice — and the way that they handled all of it.”

“I respect your answer. It was honest.”

His turn for a question. “How do you feel about it, really, being here? Not here as in here,” he clarifies, tapping the table, “but at Basgiath.”

You look at him for a second. “Is that your question, or…”

“It can be. But if you don’t want to talk about it, we can go back to the dumb ones.”

“No, it’s fine,” you say quietly, thinking for a second. “I’ve accepted it, but that doesn’t make it any less terrifying.”

He’s quiet, giving you space to elaborate — the same way Garrick does; not prying, but silently offering to let you tell him what you’re thinking, if you want to.

“Challenges are the one thing here that doesn’t scare me, because I don’t have to think about it anymore. I know what to do if someone takes a swing at me, and I know how to disarm someone, because Garrick made me practice hundreds of times. But everything else…” 

“Is uncertain and unfamiliar, and therefore scary,” he finishes for you. 

You’re a little surprised by the gentle tone of his voice, the lack of judgment in his words. “That pretty much sums it up.”

Another pause.

“I’ve had an anxiety disorder pretty much my whole life,” you admit. “I was that kid in school that everyone thought couldn’t speak, because I never talked to anyone, except my siblings. Liam was my first real friend who was my age. He didn’t mind the quiet. We would just sit together, and he’d do his wood carvings while I read my books. That was good enough for both of us.”

“Where are they now? Your siblings, I mean.”

You’re silent for a moment, looking down at the tablecloth and the barely distinguishable pattern of flowers woven into it. 

“I know that’s two in a row for me,” he says, backpedaling. “And you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I had a brother and a sister. They were eight and ten years older than me, but they were my best friends. I think they knew that I didn’t have anyone my age, so they always let me tag along for everything until they left for Basgiath.”

“They went here?”

You nod. “As infantry. When they graduated, they joined Fen Riorson’s movement, and a few years later, they were executed along with my parents.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says softly. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

Something compels you to keep talking, to push past the awkwardness and condolences. “I don’t mind talking about them. It’s hard, but they were an important part of my life, and they deserve to be remembered. Losing them was devastating, but Garrick and my foster sister helped fill that void.”

You trace a fingernail over one of the tiny flowers. “I think… I think that’s why I kept pushing you away, and why I haven’t really made any friends here. Being marked doesn’t help, but I can never let myself get close to anyone, because everyone I’ve ever been close to has left me, one way or another.”

You can’t bring yourself to say “died” — and that wouldn’t be quite correct, either. Garrick is very much alive, last you’d heard, but he’s at least a twelve hour flight away. 

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I only met her twice, but she was always kind to me and everyone she met.”

It takes you a second to realize that he means your foster sister — as far as Ridoc and the rest of the school know, she’d died at Resson along with Liam and Soleil.

“She was,” you say softly. 

It feels weird speaking about her in the past tense. You know she’s not dead, that she’s safe with Brennan and the elders, but the last time you saw her, she might as well have been — she’d felt so cold, and looked so drained, unable to respond to you or even open her eyes. 

She has to be awake by now, starting to recover. She has to push through, if for no reason other than that it would absolutely shatter both you and Garrick if she didn’t. 

Ridoc exhales, choosing his next words carefully. “I really am sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through any of that, especially so young. But for what it’s worth, which probably isn’t a lot — I think you’re handling it all incredibly well, and you’re really brave for it.”

You, handling anything well? and being brave? Yeah, right. You take a sip of water to cover the look of dry disbelief on your face, but he sees it anyway. 

“I mean it. Bravery isn’t “never being scared”, it’s “being scared but doing the scary thing anyway”, and you’ve been doing that every day for the last year — for your whole life, honestly. I think that’s admirable.”

You blink at him for a moment, surprised. 

“It’s true,” Rhith says gently. 

“Thank you,” you say softly — to both of them. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

He offers you a soft smile. “I think that’s enough deep questions for now. Thank you for telling me all of that, though. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

“It wasn’t,” you agree. “But I feel… lighter.”

“Lighter is good.”

Ezra arrives at the perfect time, holding a tray with two plates of steaming noodles and two glasses of water, placing them in front of you and making a quick exit.

Ridoc brushes a hand against his glass, and you watch the pattern of frost crawl over the edges as it chills itself near instantly. “Want me to do yours?”

You blink, realizing he’s speaking to you. “Sure. Thank you.”

He pushes the cold glass toward you, taking the other and chilling it for himself.

The question comes out before you can think. “How long did it take you to get used to the cold?”

He looks up at you, surprised. “Not long. A week, maybe. I run hot, so sometimes it’s kinda nice.”

You nod in understanding. He’d been warm to the touch when he’d wrapped his arms around you, and you’d melted right into him. That was a first. But so is this, and it seems to be going okay.

You both eat without further discussion, every minute of quiet a little more comfortable than the last. The food is good — better than anything they serve at Basgiath. 

“So, where’s home for you?” you ask after a while.

“Deaconshire,” he answers. “My dad’s still out there. It’s been just me and him for a while.”

“Not too far, then,” you comment, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he hadn’t mentioned his mother. 

“Yeah. I’ve thought about going AWOL for an afternoon, just to see him for an hour or two. But at least the letters will arrive fast.”

“Right,” you say softly, pushing the last piece of pasta around your plate idly. 

It hadn’t really sunk in yet that you can write letters now, as a second year. You could write to Garrick, but it would be too dangerous to send anything to Aretia, with the professors reading everything to make sure there’s no classified information being spread. You might be able to write to the Duke, and hope he passes it on to the right people, but that would still be deemed suspicious. 

Maybe Bodhi could help you.

“Where’d Garrick get stationed?” he asks.

“Samara,” you answer quietly. 

He winces, knowing that’s right on the front between Navarre and Poromiel, but he recovers quickly. “He’s with Xaden, right? They’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah.”

“They’ll be fine,” he reassures. “They were the two biggest, most intimidating dudes in fourth wing. Nobody’s going to mess with them — but if anyone’s dumb enough to try, they’ll get what’s coming to them. And they can definitely kick ass in the air, too.”

He’s right — they’ll be fine.

Probably.

“Yeah,” you say again, hoping it sounds convincing. “They can definitely hold their own.” But against wyvern… what if what happened to Deigh happens to Chradh or Sgaeyl, and there’s nothing they can do? 

You force the thought out of your head before the universe can hear it and make it come true. 

“You ready to head back?” he asks gently.

You nod in affirmation, and he gets up, finding Ezra. The owner bids him a cheerful goodbye that includes a hearty pat on the back, while you stand by the table and offer him a weak wave and a soft thank you.

The walk back to the school is quiet, only the crunching of gravel under your boots, but this time the silence isn’t as loud.

You’ve already said everything you needed to say, laid all your cards face up on the table and shown them to the other — almost all of them, you think with a little flare of guilt, but there are some things you just can’t tell anyone, for the sake of Tyrrendor in its entirety.

“This one’s mine,” you say quietly, stopping in front of your door. 

You call it yours, but it doesn’t feel that way. Just because you sleep here and your stuff is piled up in the corner, yet to be unpacked, doesn’t make it feel like yours, and doesn’t make it feel safe, despite the ward that Garrick had helped you put up before he left for Samara with Xaden.

Ridoc offers you a warm smile. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. I’d really like to see you again, if you want.”

“I’d like that too.”

He lingers, and for a moment you’re worried that he’s expecting something of you, but he remains a few steps away, his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” you add. “For today. And for finding me yesterday.”

“Of course, sweetheart. And next time you start to feel that way, you can have Rhith tell Aotrom to get me, okay? You shouldn’t have to deal with that alone.”

“Okay,” you say softly. 

He gives you another knee-weakening smile before he heads off, disappearing into a room that must be his — eight doors down, on the other side of the hall.

You make it inside just as the bells strike twelve thirty. The afternoon is still young.

You decide to unpack — starting by shoving the box of your sister’s things into the bottom of the armoire. You’d burned most of her stuff, to maintain the appearance that she’s actually dead, but you and Garrick had both taken some for yourselves. Malek couldn’t get mad about that, right?

You don’t know if you should worry what he thinks or not — you despise him for taking everyone away from you, but you need to remain in his good graces if you want to keep the few people you have left. But you aren’t sure how — it remains unclear what you did, or didn’t do, to deserve that. 

“It was nothing you did,” Rhith says gently, startling you. “And you didn’t deserve it.”

“Sorry,” you stammer. “I didn’t mean to project that to you.”

“We’ve talked about the apologies, sweet one,” she prods. “They’re never necessary.”

“Sor—” you stop yourself before you can finish the word. “I’ll work on that.”

She changes the subject for you. “I’m proud of what you did today. I know that was difficult for you.”

“It’s easier with him,” you say quietly. “I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Many things don’t require explanation. It is enough to simply appreciate them.” 

Spoken like a true green. “I wish I could be as logical as you,” you sigh. 

“There is value in both logic and emotion, but there is a balance to be found between them.”

You sit with the statement for a moment as you start to fold the laundry you’d shoved into a bag and dragged up the stairs when you’d moved, trying to smooth out the wrinkles to no avail.

“What do you think?” you ask. “about him, I mean.”

“I think he has a good heart. He genuinely cares for you, but it is your decision whether to trust him or not. And even if you do, there are some things that he can never know.”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “I know.”

“I’m proud of you, my girl.”

You’re a little bit proud of yourself too.

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #47 – City of Last Chances by Adrian Tchaikovsky

This book was recommended to me by a few different people, and in any case I am generally a pretty big Tchaikovsky fan. So of course I’m only getting around to reading it now, however many months later. Having put it off so long for no good reason at all, I can say that the book is in fact very good. Not Tchaikovsky’s best work (that’s still Children of Time in a walk), but a good read and one that left me curious (if not exactly excited) about checking out the sequel.

The story takes place in Illmar, the eponymous City of Last Chances – scarred and oppressed, tyrannized by cursed dukes and conquering imperialists, built upon a dangerous and unreliable route to other worlds and forever attracting the sort of people with no better options available to them. While the book has any number of characters, it’s really the city itself that is the star of the story – a story of how the theft of an imperial magistrate’s ward before he makes an experimental voyage through the gateway in the woods leads to a whole series of byzantine intrigues and bloody misadventures, culminating in an abortive revolution against the Pallseen who occupy and rule them. Which in one sense is an absolutely massive spoiler and in another just feels like stating an inevitability that was obvious from the first chapter.

The book was apparently quite heavily marketed as harking back to the whole New Weird trend of a decade or two ago – marketing that is lived up to wholly and entirely. The whole book absolutely drips with Mieville and Vandermeer. The oblique worldbuilding, the mundane day-to-day life built around the opportunities and inconveniences of some intrusion of the sublime, the awkward intersection of ancient magic and industrial bureaucracy, and so on, and so forth. The Reproach in particular feels very Area X (or very Roadside Picnic, as you prefer), but in general the city feels like absolutely nothing so much as Bas-Lag with the weirdness dial turned down from an 11 to a 5 or 6.

It’s a real triumph of the book, I think, that the world genuinely feels vast and strange even beyond the points where it matters to the story - that all the little asides and the ways something affects a certain character feel like just small parts of something far grander and more uncanny than anyone can hope to understand. Maybe I’m just painfully tired of rpg-system worldbuilding, but it’s an effect I dearly love.

Much like Bas-Lag, Ilmar is very clearly a magical fantasy city going through a magical fantasy 19th century industrial revolution (instead of steam engines its demonic slave labor contracted and imported from the Kings Below). The meat of the book is playing into the whole tradition of the idealistic, virtuous but tragic liberal revolution – 1848 in Berlin or Vienna, the June Days and Commune in Paris, Warsaw a dozen different times, Les Mis. You know the type. Students singing patriotic old songs, workers rising up against class oppression, ‘revolutionaries’ who are mostly cowardly nobles pining after lost privileges and criminal syndicate putting on airs being caught flat-footed by events. You can probably tell the basic story in your sleep. But for such a venerable genre, this book's honestly probably the best rendition of ‘fantasy 1848’ I can recall. Something which won it my instant affection.

The other thing the book just overwhelming shares with the Mieville’s Bas-Lag books is a very keen sense of the necessity of revolution combined with an extreme cynicism towards anyone who might actually carry it out. The university students are sincere believers, and also naive sheep the narrative views with condescension (at best). The professional revolutionaries are all power-grabbing hypocrites who have wrapped themselves in the flag. The workers syndicates have a real sense of solidarity among themselves, and also none at all to the demon slaves that are used and broken powering the mills and factories. And so on. The overall thrust of the book is a tragedy not in the sense of railing against the inevitable, but in the sense that triumph and revolution were absolutely possible – indeed plausible – but for the flaws and frailities of the revolutionaries who might have accomplished it.

Not to say that it's misanthropic – the book is very humane towards the vast majority of its POVs. Of which there are enough for ‘vast majority’ to be a meaningful term. It was something like 130 pages in before any character got a second chapter through their eyes, a feat I had previously only seen in Malazan – and that’s not including the chorus chapters which just give a half-doze vignettes from across the city. But yes, most characters (even the ones who are really just viscerally repulsive) are shown through their own eyes as someone who is at least understandable, if not particularly sympathetic. The sheer size of the cast in a 500 page book mean that no one character or set gets that many chapters from their perspective (you could easily have written as long a book about roughly the same events with half or less of the cast), but some of the dynamics that are very lightly touched on are just incredibly compelling. Its enough to make you wish this was a series that would ever get any fanfiction written about it, really.

Given the way the book is so deeply concerned with oppression and violence on the basis of culture, class, and nation – imperial occupiers, native population, refugees and immigrants used and scapegoated by both – it is kind of fascinating that this is a world where misogyny and (possibly? Not very explored, the only example of a queer relationship we see is hardly going to be concerned by normative society) homophobia just flatly don’t exist. Which would be less interesting if it was unusual, really – the same could be said about very nearly every recent sci fi or fantasy book on the same lines I can recall. Interesting because it is very much not the case in Melville’s stuff – the cultural impact of Ancillary Justice continues to echo down the years, I guess. So yes the imperial police inspector will extort sex out of a brothel owner in exchange for not stringing up the entire workforce for peripheral involvement with the resistance, but also this is entirely gender-neutral. Something very modern about how oppression is imagined relative to the ‘90s or ‘00s (or just a different genre of self-consciously feminist novel a few book shelves to the left).

But yeah, great book, I am compelled. No idea where the sequel would be going, but will probably hunt it down sooner rather than later.

[physalian]

Character Types: The “Fixer”

Oh look it’s another chance to bring exposure to casual traumas in real people thinly disguised as writing advice heyyyyy

The “Fixer” is the character who puts everyone else before themselves, but isn’t quite so self-destructive as the jaded loner—this person’s whole schtick is that everyone else’s needs and emotions come first, which will usually end up with them behaving and appearing very extroverted, fun, and kind.

They have no idea they’re doing it, either, and see nothing wrong with their behavior or what logic there is in saving a little slice of the pie for themselves. They’re not self-loathers or angsty abusers and if there are parts of themselves that they don’t like, they probably think of these aspects as “what can you do? Oh well” with zero motivation to exercise their demons, because they don't see them as demons but something they deserve to suffer with.

Or, they know exactly what they’re doing and cannot see the merit at all in themselves deserving a piece of the pie, as if they’re inherently lesser than everyone around them for Reasons they cannot articulate, Reasons that, if their friends or loved ones share the exact same traits, they’d bend over backwards and make excuses for. They have normalized their existence that there’s nothing left to angst over. “I am lesser” is just. A statement of fact.

These characters come in several flavors:

The parental figure (possibly single) or “mature” one in the family who’s always prepared, always has the big backpack with bandaids and wet-naps, probably the first to say “we’re family, all’s forgiven” in effort to keep the peace.  They’re the person who literally eats last or not at all, even when conserving food isn’t necessary, usually with the smallest, now-cold serving. Also can be the parentified sibling.

The person in a romantic relationship doing a whole lot more giving than receiving, whether it’s physically or emotionally, insisting that they’re fine, that their partner need not go out of their way to do XYZ for them, but is incredibly in tune with anything and everything that their partner might need. They’re likely to be in an abusive relationship, either emotionally or physically, or both, because a sensible partner who loves Fixer as much as the Fixer loves them wouldn’t let Fixer get away with an unfair share of back-breaking emotional labor. The abuser takes full advantage of it and laughs when they’re not looking.

The “mom” of the hero team/friend group, similar to the actual parental figure, but in this dynamic, everyone’s about the same age. The Fixer probably isn’t the leader, but second or third in command, as they don’t think themselves capable of making the Big Decisions and prefer running support. They take the most cramped bedroom, the most undesirable odd jobs, and do far more than their share of the chores and other tasks, probably without the rest of the group realizing it until something happens to them. No one asks this of them, they automatically assume this is their burden and don’t even think to suggest equal shares.

Alternate case:

They’re the “leader” because no one else wants to do the job, pretending to be way less stressed than they are and habitually protecting their team from the worst of it with little white lies, to the point where no one has any idea how much they’re suffering in silence until they eventually break. As opposed to a properly communicative leader who regularly delegates important tasks and is very transparent in all their decisions. They might also be the leader because they don’t think anyone else in their team could perform as well under pressure, pressure they’ve been under their whole life.

I actually wrote two of these, the Original, and then the Original Who Went to Therapy, between two different WIPs.

Original was the second in command of a plucky space crew in the sci-fi WIP I always mention, who was very versatile and OP and thus took it upon himself to take the lion’s share of the work around the ship because he could do it quickly and delegating the tasks to the rest of the crew was, to him, objectively pointless. He was also an empath with an ability he couldn’t turn off, literally stuck doing the emotional labor far and above normal human conditions.

He was a firm believer in “if I can, I must” and repeatedly put himself in dangerous situations because he’s the only one who could escape them alive, and to not act would be selfish, and above all else, he feared looking selfish. This all came to a head when Magical Shenanigans ensued and his own powers turned against him, stressing him to the point of his body going “we are taking a Break” and he got bedridden until he learned how to talk about his feelings and let people in.

While he was sick, him Not Being There for when the rest of the plot carried on without him meant that  his team very badly felt his absence because he did so much without them realizing it, and they did not handle it well, picking a different character to shovel all the labor onto, until they too overstrained themselves, and an intervention was necessary.

He was the friendliest character of the team to their newest member, their only cheerleader when the whole rest of his team was skeptical. He was also quite desperate for validation and approval, to the point where he made a bunch of little white lies that quickly caught up with him, pretending to be something he’s not so people would like him.

—

When I ripped the above character out of that WIP and tossed him and another character into Eternal Night, he got an upgrade and a whole bunch of therapy.

Enter Dorian. The main difference between these two is that Dorian can actually stand up for himself and establish boundaries, and got a friend/girlfriend who went “I can fix him” and actually did. He’s still very much a Fixer with a Martyr complex, a vampire who only turned to make sure the people he was stuck with held up their end of a deal and did not expect to keep living after the deal was done…for about three hundred and fifty more years.

This is a character who was a parentified Fixer, sixteen years older than his oopsie little sibling, and did not handle it well when they were separated. He’s very obvious to everyone who knows him, especially when those people have known him for centuries, and know “yeah give that one a little kid to protect and he will predictably fall on his own stake”.

One of his love interests (he’s poly), the “I can fix him” girlfriend, is not at all afraid to call him out on his martyr bullshit, or when he’s bending over backwards trying to save people who don’t want to be saved, or risking his own sanity, health, and reputation for people who insist they don’t want his help.

I specifically designed and introduced Kymiria to look and act like a stereotypically jealous mean girl who doesn’t want to share her man with the protagonist. Except. She’s right. About everything. She knows Dorian extremely well and got him through some awful shit and isn’t about to stand by and watch him break himself again for someone who she thinks doesn’t deserve him (and she’s also right on that point). How she goes about protecting him is totally different.

But for the mortals who live with his coven, he’s the most popular vampire around and the favorite by all the children for a country mile. No one who hasn’t been living with him for decades has any idea that there’s anything traumatic behind his smiles.

—

I like writing Fixer characters because I don’t get to see enough of them. They’re not as popular as the Angsty Sad Boy and certainly not as popular as My Trauma Excuses My Aggression Boy. People who have suffered tend to fall on either end of two extremes: Either they continue the cycle of hate and abuse or they make absolutely certain no one in their life will ever suffer what they did. I like writing and reading the latter, particularly when they're men as most “fixers” we think of emphasize “womanly” traits of kindness and nurturing.

These characters are also their own worst enemies. Their inability to treat themselves as deserving of respect and forgive themselves continuously gets them into sticky situations that they wouldn’t be in if they were just a little bit more willing to put their own needs first.

—

If you're interested in reading my take on Fixers in a bona fide novel, check out Eternal Night of the Northern Sky!

[aihoshiino]

Chp 160 was so??????? that I am straight up unable to form an opinion on it.

Like I can see the story going one of two ways. 'Kamiki is the evil mastermind actually he faked his reaction to the dvd' or 'Kamiki is playing the villian but is actually not the culprit'

And like both directions have massive problems.

The former would mean that the movie (which we spent nearly 40 chapters on) amounted to fucking nothing. Other characters ominous talking about Aqua trying to kill his father with it? Ruby's so called revenge arc? Nah, that meant nothing, the movie didn't do a damn thing.

And while I prefer the latter interpretation as it's the tonally and thematically consistent way, it would also mean that Akasaka has been circle-jerking us with the 'Kamiki is an evil serial killer.' -> 'No wait actually he isn't.' -> 'SIKE, HE IS EVIL.' -> 'Nvm he isn't.' for some inconceivable reason.

It's a mess no matter how you slice it, honestly I am so tired of oshi no ko and I just want it to be over already.

YEAH. THAT'S BASICALLY WHERE I'M AT.

In general, I just don't know why we're having a second confrontation with Kamiki. Narratively and emotionally, it's redundant - having him come back into the story and get his final resolution would be fine but playing out Yet Another Big Dramatic Showdown between him and Aqua just falls so flat for a number of reasons. We've already had the huge release of tension that was Aqua and Kamiki facing off like nearly an entire volume ago and everything that was emotionally riding on that confrontation was emotionally resolved. I know some people are still mad that Aqua didn't hit Kamiki with an orbital laser or something, but the absolute fucking gutpunch that was 153-154 was so incredibly effective and also just more interesting than this much more generic standoff. Not only is it kind of mid on its own merits but I feel like it retroactively makes that first confrontation weaker because like... it ends up not really mattering and we get a take 2 where Kamiki is acting like an entirely different character.

@yuseirra made an excellent point in their discussion of ch159 which is that (thematically speaking) the movie has to be the method by which Aqua achieves his revenge because Ai's tragedy was the result of the public's perception of her. If it isn't able to do that then not only was that arc just kind of a waste of everyone's time, reader and character alike, but it means the movie itself as an object in the narrative loses what little shaky thematic ground it has.

An issue the Movie Arc always had that it never really engaged with to my satisfaction is the underlying discomfort of watching Ai's life being turned into a movie. I said this over and over as the arc was ongoing, but there's something almost repulsive about taking this character whose life was warped and eventually ended up the exploitation of the entertainment industry and the voyeristic gaze of the public and indulging in that voyerism by creating fiction out of her life, chopping it up and outright making shit up to invent a version of her that the public can devour. It claims to be a movie about 'Ai Hoshino' but literally and explicitly fictionalizes the most pivotal events and relationships in her life - the 'Ai' of 15 Year Lie is just as fake as 'Ai of B-Komachi', just sold with an even more insidious lie to make her go down a little sweeter.

If the manga actually engaged with this idea or was even the slightest bit aware of this underlying discomfort, the Movie Arc as a whole would've been much better off for it and so would all the resolutions in the arcs following that rely on it as foundation. But as it stands, the movie is thematically dead on arrival and the fantastic emotional resolutions we got out of it, in spite of everything, have been seemingly retconned into irrelevance.

[jazeswhbhaven]

With the whole Leviathan thing. I think is just his archetype is really popular with Japan.

Seeing another game that has a similar to what Leviathan is, and seeing the popularity of that characters type. It seems like, hard wall that has been build up and it takes time to get their walls to broke.

Plus, there's this unknown factor where you think that they are being an Asshole, but they actually have a reason behind their action.

One example I know is with the Character from Ikemen Prince, Chevalier is describe as (this is from the wiki)

True to his title, Chevalier is as ruthless and merciless as a cruel beast and is quick to cut down his enemies no matter who they are. He is indifferent to to almost everyone and doesn't spend much time interacting with people, and usually prefers to be alone. However, in his route after meeting the MC he somehow changes and began to get use to feeling certain emotions such as love, which he views as something unnecessary in the past.

Reading his route, you would imagine that people would not like him, however

2nd voting

Most of the voting, Chevalier always take 1st place.

Often times it just culture differences and people/majority have a preferences. We really can't do anything about it.

For me, often I like least popular characters or the most popular character cause I'm drawn to what I like, and with Chevalier and Leviathan they scratched a certain type I love.

And with MC, its a porn game. MC will be written as a blank slate with the motivation of being horny cause no reasonable person would act like this if you were surrounded with horny and feral devils that speak their mind with no filter or no restrained of their urges.

Like, if we put real life logic with some of the behavior, some of them will be questionable. But this is fictional game with their own logic. The game will do some kinky stuff that people like in their fiction.

Anyway, I wanted to share my 2 cent on Leviathan. I've have my problem with his character. And that fine, if he was just all nice with MC after the contract, that would have been too ooc for him.

Honestly, I like how his dynamic with MC in the main story now (ie. Chapter 6)

I'm glad you put this into words/visuals, because a lot of things I tend to say are usually said better by others. I recognize the character you mentioned because I did play a little bit of Ikemen Prince myself! When it comes to types, I can for sure agree that for myself, anyone with his or Levi's type is not my first pick. I also agree this could very well be cultural differences that come into play as well.

Though I do understand the why for Levi. Childhood robbed from him, experiments, other screwy things. I'd have walls too. In the comics though I see the other side of him that isn't so combative and that's why it's that love/hate thing I've got going on for him as a whole.

I'm unsure if anything I said may indicate that I'm taking his personality to heart, I'd like to clarify that I do not take it deeply that he's this way, it's more of empty rants lol he's nothing more than pixels with a smart mouth.

The way they have MC/Levi's dynamic for Chapter 6 has me satisfied too, I will not be bothered if they keep that up for the future chapters we get.

[jo-harrington]

Chuck (Eddie Munson)

Summary: It's just a regular closing shift at Benny's. Easy peasy. Nothing bad could possibly happen.

Word Count: 3.5k

Characters: Eddie, Jeff, Benny Hammond

Themes/Warnings: Boys will be boys, friendship, smutty intrusive thoughts, Masturbation(?), Food Fucking, Eddie has an unspecified romantic partner (could be Steve, could be Reader, could be anyone that's not what this story is about), Song Fic, What's a Little Psychological Torture Between Friends…

Note: You know what? In true unhinged fashion, I had to write this for @courtingchaos on her birthday and not only that but give her some credit here. This was born from us being stuck in a car on Lake Shore Drive, hangry and a little slap happy, on the way to Navy Pier after I witnessed something that was probably very similar (in the most innocuous way) at a suburban Burger King.

Meg, you are my life. My world. You are my Cheese. Burger. And this one's for you. Happy Birthday.

Thank you AGAIN to @dr-aculaaa for the beta and @deathbecomesthem for some of the diner lingo. Disclaimer that I never worked at a diner so this is probably horribly inaccurate...but just suspend your sense of disbelief if you have.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

If anyone wants to get the full effect of this fic, you need to put Mr. Roboto on repeat for the duration of your time reading.

---

5:55PM

Jeff stared at the clock as he wiped down the counter.

Every tick of the second hand had him gritting his teeth a little more, enough where he should probably worry that he was gonna crack a tooth. All because Eddie was late for his closing shift.

Their closing shift.

And not just late, late again. For the third time in as many days they worked together.

If he even showed up.

Now Jeff wasn't one to complain. Shit, Eddie was the one to suggest that he apply at Benny's in the first place and put a good word in for his best friend.

Ben was getting a little older and wanted to enjoy what was left of his youth while he still had it, instead of solely being stuck behind his grill for the rest of his life. An extra waitress on the weekends, an extra line cook during the week, and the business ran smoothly, even when he decided to take a day off.

And Eddie was pretty much employee of the month, knowing all of the regulars orders like the back of his hand.

Until Jeff started getting scheduled alongside him.

Until Eddie started going on dates, and started "going steady" with someone.

Until Eddie started playing hooky to go and suck face and god knows what else while parked up at the quarry.

Jeff let his fist slam against the counter as another minute ticked away, only for the bell of the door to chime and Eddie walk in, shrugging his apron on and shedding his leather jacket in a flustered rush.

"Sorry I'm late," he said with an easy smile on kiss-swollen lips. Jeff rolled his eyes at the sight and at the apology. "Oh come on, I promise I'll be on time tomorrow. Scout's honor." Eddie crossed his finger over his heart.

"You weren't a scout," Jeff retorted.

"Hey now," Eddie teased, starting in on one of his typical Munson-isms that usually ended up in forgiveness or forgetfulness. "I actually was. For one day before some snot-nosed kid pushed me over and I accidentally said fuck. Then they asked me to leave. But once a scout, always a scout."

Jeff hummed and turned on his heel to push back into the kitchen and start prepping for the dinner rush.

The thing was...they worked really well together. They had a good routine of noting what tasks needed to be done throughout the night. It's not like the diner was ever that busy on weeknights and Benny had been doing it alone for years, but it was nice to have someone you got along with at work.

Well it was nice...when they were there. It was nice when your work buddy was actually reliable and helped you out, which made Jeff feel bad because Eddie was his friend, his best friend. But Jeff could let Eddie's luck and charisma let him slide through his responsibilities.

So Eddie was about to find out what kind of hell it was when you were in the weeds alone.

---

Jeff had gone out to take an order when the phone rang.

Eddie grabbed the receiver with a quick "yello'" only to get a familiar voice rasping on the other end.

"Can I speak to Jeffrey please?" came the reply from someone dramatically sounding like Edith Bunker.

Eddie rolled his eyes. "Gareth, I know it's you," he sighed.

"No, this is Jeff's grandma," the younger boy kept up the ruse, snickering a little at the end. "I need to talk to him."

Eddie let his head roll back on his shoulders as he heard the stifled giggling of his friend over the line, and then he peeked his head out of the passthrough.

"Jeff!" he called out. "Your grandma's calling."

Jeff donned an exaggerated and fake look of concern; he jogged across the diner and grabbed the receiver from Eddie's hand.

"Hello?" he answered and Eddie watched as his expressions got more animated, as did his voice. "Grandma? Oh no, what happened...an accident? You need help? You need me to leave work and come home right away?"

"What?!" Eddie shrieked and reached out to snatch the receiver back from Jeff's hand. He placed it against his ear but only heard Gareth laughing and then the ring tone. He was about to ask Jeff what the hell was going on, only to find him pulling his apron over his head. "Come on now, where do you think you're going?"

"I've gotta leave," Jeff shook his head frantically. "It's my grandma, she's in the hospital, I've gotta go."

"Jeff, come on."

"There's no one else to take care of her."

"Seriously. Quit it."

"You'll be ok by yourself tonight right?" Jeff ignored everything Eddie said and looked at him expectantly as he dug his hand in his pockets for his car keys.

For a moment, Eddie felt the panic rise within him; he figured Jeff was a little upset that he bailed the past few nights but...seriously it wasn't anything that Jeff couldn't handle.

Was his friend really that mad?

"Listen I'm sorry I bailed on work a few times this week," he apologized, but Jeff just shook his head and pulled out a roll of quarters.

Then another.

Then another.

And the panic Eddie had faded into curiosity, then realization.

No, Jeff wasn't mad; he was annoyed.

"Hey listen, it's just for tonight so I can check on my grandma, you'll be ok," Jeff explained as he walked over to the old jukebox in the corner of the dining room. He began loading the old machine up with quarters and punching buttons in rapid succession. "I'll even make it up to you. You can have all the tips in the tip jar from before you got here earlier and I'll put on some music that you'll like. Hey look, Ben took your advice and updated this a little.

"He even has your favorite Ed," Jeff glanced over his shoulder. "Styx."

Eddie groaned in loathing this time, thinking of the power ballads and synthesizer nightmares he was about to endure because his friend was gonna get back at him.

The Grand Illusion. Or worse Paradise Theater.

The records inside of the machine shifted as they queued up tracks for the next however-long Jeff had paid for.

"Don't do this Jeff," Eddie pleaded as his friend grabbed his jacket from the coatrack by the door. "I'll never skip work again. I promise. Just stay."

"But my grandma needs me Eddie..." he whined and then winked at Eddie before running out the door. "Have fun."

Eddie sighed and accepted defeat as the door shut and Jeff was gone, all while the sparkly synthesized voice began amidst electronic fanfare...

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto...

---

7PM

You know what? It didn't start out that bad.

"You're wondering who I am," Eddie sang along and bopped to the beat as he flipped burgers on the flat top. "Secret, secret, I've got a secret."

He had food to cook and orders to take and he fell right back into the routine of those short staffed nights when Benny started to realize how much he valued his personal time, but right before Jeff was hired.

It would be fine.

And there was a little musical accompaniment? Even better.

He figured that he might start loading the machine up with quarters before his shifts from now on, instead leaving it up to the chance of the customers.

"Machine or Mannequin?" He did a little spin. "Secret secret, I've got a secret."

Eddie hadn't even realized that the song that started out the night--Mr. Roboto--repeated itself until he got back to the kitchen, and then it repeated again.

And again.

He had to admit it was growing on him though. Like a cancer, but still growing. So he either needed to adapt or it would kill him. The lyrics were catchy, he could dance to it a little, and there was a good beat that he could almost headbang to if he tried.

It wasn't even that he hated Styx, he just hated what Styx stood for. Mainstream popular music. It was commercial and sanitized. Yeah Babe wasn't that bad of a song. And neither was this one. Shit...if he really thought about it, was the band even really that popular? They were underdogs, and he always rooted for an underdog.

"With parts made in Japan," he sang into his spatula and slapped slices of cheese onto his patties for dramatic effect. "I am thee modern man!"

---

8PM

So if you see me, acting strangely, don't be surprised.

There was a little bell at the pass that got hit whenever an order was up.

Of course, with Eddie being the only one working it didn’t need to get hit.

Still, every time Eddie passed it, he just had to tap his hand on the bell along with whatever verse or instrumental was playing.

I’m a man who needed someone and somewhere to hide.

It wasn’t getting to him.

No. Not at all.

It was just a graduation from him playing air guitar with a broom and drumming on the counter with spoons.

Ding ding ding ding ding, ding ding ding ding ding.

Eddie tapped at the bell with both hands at the crescendo and then went to the walk-in to scream.

Nothing to worry about.

---

9PM

I’ve come to help you with your problems, so we can be free.

“Hey can you change the song at all? This one’s been repeating for a while.”

Eddie smiled tightly at the guy at the head of the long rectangular table and then dropped the blue plate special down in front of him with a clatter.

“It’s broken,” he explained, not wanting to get into it.

Several customers had asked already; it was getting as annoying as people who said they were tipping with kindness. Obviously if he could get another song on the jukebox, he would.

How many fucking quarters had Jeff put in there?

“Could you unplug it? Plug it back in again?”

He’d thought of that too.

But wasn’t it just his luck that they lived in the do-it-yourself amateur handyman Midwest…and the damn thing was wired into the wall itself.

And he really didn’t want to cut the line and have to explain to Benny how an electrical fire burnt down his diner.

“You know what?” Eddie took a slow, calming breath. “This is actually…my favorite song." There was a disbelieving blink. "A-and it’s my birthday.”

The withering look he received made him second guess burning down the place; it actually didn’t seem so bad after all. He could deal with Benny.

I’m just a man whose circumstances went beyond his control. Beyond my control. We all need control.

---

10PM

I am the modern man, who hides behind a mask…

Eddie wore his Freak label proudly.

He accepted it, everyone else accepted it.

But maybe this music was getting to him a little bit as he started noticing of the different inanimate objects around Benny’s that he could potentially fuck.

That was a level of Freak that he really hadn’t embraced yet.

So no one else can see my true identity!

Well, it was sort of always there simmering beneath the surface. He had been a horny teenager and was now a horny young man. There was always a question about what objects he could stick his dick into.

But he’d tried to curb that curiosity after the pool noodle incident.

Now though…he was far enough gone that things were starting to appeal to him again. And it scared him a little bit for those thoughts to pop up during work.

Not enough to stop though.

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.

First it was a bagel with the perfect hole.

Actually, was it even the music causing this? How dare that bagel look so damn fuckable. Cream cheese wouldn’t be the best lube, he had to admit. But he didn’t mind trying. Unfortunately that bagel was needed for someone’s sober-up sandwich.

Then there was a hole in the vinyl of one of the booths. He stared at it every time he brought out an order or bussed a table. Eventually he couldn’t help himself and he lightly ran two fingers over it and then plunged them inside the hole, like a lover would, only to find the edges were jagged and rough…and he was disappointed that it wouldn’t be the most pleasurable experience.

He wasn’t one to say no to a little bit of teeth when getting his dick sucked but that wasn’t what he was looking for right now.

At one point he even considered fucking the jukebox itself. Get it to shut up once and for all.

The logistics weren’t right.

Where would he even put his cock? Just rub the head of him along the coin slot while he jerked off? Pass.

His depravity needed to be put on hold though, because as he was in the walk-in trying to cut a channel into a head of iceberg that might be the perfect fit for him, he spotted a tub of hamburger with a label in Benny’s chicken scratch saying “discard” with the date.

He froze and let his thoughts swirl before he shook his head and put the iceberg down. He slammed his hand against his forehead as though that would make his internal monologue right itself.

Because what the hell was he doing?

Regardless of the absolute torture he was enduring, he was still at work and had a job to do.

Why was he trying to fuck a head of lettuce? Or fingering a hole in a booth. No, he was absolutely losing his mind, he needed to control himself, he needed to get back to work.

He was about to exit the walk-in when he glanced back at the tub.

“Can't forget that tonight,” he muttered to himself as a reminder.

Then back into the kitchen he went.

Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Domo. Domo.

---

11PM

“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” Eddie muttered as he dropped maraschino cherries into milkshakes. His voice was ragged, desperate. Pleading. “For doing the job nobody wants to.”

“Thank you very much Mr. Roboto,” he deadpanned as he numbly swept the floor. “For helping me escape when I needed to.”

Thank you.

Thank you.

I wanna thank you.

Please thank you.

Thank you thank you.

Thank you thank you.

“Thank you,” Eddie smiled, as the joy finally die inside of his body as he rang out the last customers. But it was rapidly born once again as he waved goodbye. “Thank you thank you!”

---

12AM

The doors were locked, the lights in the dining room closed.

And Eddie stood in the kitchen with a lit cigarette in his mouth as he concentrated on the task at hand.

The problem was plain to see. Too much technology. The jukebox still played out on the floor.

Machines to save our lives? No. Machines dehumanize.

He shouldn’t be fucking the jukebox or a head of lettuce or a bagel. No. He needed something warm and malleable.

Living.

Or well…close enough.

It was the perfect idea! Instead of taking it right to the dumpster, he’d taken the tub of ground chuck out of the walk-in and let it get to room temp at the end of his shift, and now he was standing there molding it into the right shape.

He was ready and aching after palming himself in anticipation. He’d meticulously wrapped his hard cock in plastic wrap, for lack of a better option. He needed this.

He deserved this.

Why hadn’t he ever thought of this before?

The time has come at last…

He put out the cigarette in the meat then lined up with the channel he'd crafted. He hissed as he sunk in—synthesized angels sung all around him, guitars strumming in harmony—and finally felt relief for the first time all night.

Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.

His hips rocked in time with the beat, driving deeper and deeper. He felt the slightest bit of cold when he finally bottomed out, the center of the Chuck not entirely at room temp yet. It was an unexpected thrill and he shuddered as pleasure shot through him.

He let his head fall back and he laughed with the feeling, laughed uncontrollably, and the sound echoed through the diner, forever scarring the walls with wicked glee.

To throw away this mask.

It was strange, fucking what was essentially a mass of viscous sludge. Not bad, just strange. Not entirely wet but not dry either. Maybe it was perfect actually, something he never knew he needed. Just for him. A little slice of cheese...er, heaven...just for him.

Especially when he formed meat to suit his desires as it shifted.

That feral grin stayed on his lips as he worked himself to completion, as he pumped mercilessly.

Secret, secret, I’ve got a secret.

And somewhere in all of the hubbub, Eddie came to the conclusion that although it wasn’t perfect, he could get used to it if he had to.

Because he had to.

He'd be stuck here forever, lost in Dennis DeYoung's vocal prison until the end of time.

Now everyone can see my true identity.

He thrust harder and faster, panting and kneading and clenching until all he knew was the meat and secret secrets and his own depravity as he spiraled downwards further into insanity.

I'm Kilroy.

He felt it coming.

Kilroy.

Cumming.

Kilroy.

It exploded out of him with those last few emphasized beats of the synthesizer. He felt the cling wrap bulge with his spend, felt the tingles along his spine and through his limbs as his orgasm shot through his body.

He leaned over, satiated, until his nose brushed the meat in sensuous exhaustion.

Kilroy.

He could hear his pulse in his ears, along with a buzzing din of tinnitus, and the ticking of a clock out in the dining room.

But where he expected the beginning of the next round of torture, Eddie only heard silence.

He breathed heavy, broken breaths. Gulps of air that felt like too much oxygen and not enough at the same time. He felt lightheaded.

It was over.

His punishment finally over.

He closed his eyes and thanked whatever God or Demon gifted him with this boon, and then his eyes shot open and he stood straight up as he stared at the mess he made.

"Fuck."

---

The Next Day, 5PM

Jeff felt like the cat that ate the cream when he drove to work the following day.

He felt a little bad about what he’d done to Eddie, and he had all the intention to make it back to Benny’s around 7 or 8, but Gareth had convinced him not to.

“Come on,” he’d told Jeff. “You know Eddie’s gonna get a good laugh out of it.”

“Yeah! Besides,” Dave interjected. “Shame on him for leaving you up shit’s creek so much. Hopefully this’ll teach him a lesson.”

And Jeff agreed with them.

He and Eddie were friends but that didn’t mean Eddie could walk all over him.

He was glad to see the van parked in Benny’s lot when he arrived for his shift, and as far as he could tell, everything was normal when he walked in.

Ben was at the grill and Eddie at the counter.

Actually, everything looked better than normal. Everything in the diner looked squeaky clean and under the smells of cooked food, there was a tinge of the disinfectant they used to deep clean.

“You must’ve had the slowest night ever if you did a deep clean of the place,” Jeff clapped a hand on Eddie’s back and noticed that Eddie stiffened under his touch. “What time did all those quarters run out?”

Eddie laughed nervously and scratched the back of his neck.

“Little after midnight,” he chuckled. “And it was fine. But, uh, now I know better than to fuck with you again.”

“Yeah you’re on time today, you beat me here!”

Eddie grabbed his arm as he passed and then leaned in close, voice pleading and desperate.

“I’ll never be late again, won’t be a no show, but please…don’t ever subject me to that hell again. Please.”

"Scout's honor," Jeff cackled.

Upon Eddie’s look of relief, Jeff headed back to get himself settled.

He chatted with Benny for a second before the older man left for the night. But as he went to the walk-in to get more onions to chop, he noticed something.

“Hey Ed!” He called out through the pass and Eddie turned. “Thanks for tossing that ground chuck! Or…Domo arigato I guess heh.”

He turned back to the task at hand, so he didn’t notice all the color drain from Eddie’s face.

[lizardsfromspace]

Okay, this is the conclusion to my posts about Sophia Stewart. I'll never do something like this again

Everything I've posted is from her own book or her web presence btw. That's all I'm drawing from and if anyone tells me any information about her they gained any other way I'll block them immediately so uh, don't

Towards the end she reveals some of her other pitches. By showing she copywrote sequels to the Matrix and Terminator

Lots of strange details here - she wrote The Matrix 4 in 2000? They didn't even start filming The Matrix 2 & 3 until 2001. Also, we can see in this book that her pitch has nothing to do with The Matrix or Terminator, but she claims she wrote direct sequels to both?

(Her explanation for how both very different films are ripping off her work - a 1:1 copy, she claims - is, hilariously, that The Terminator plagiarizes it front to back, while The Matrix plagiarizes it back to front. What?)

But also she didn't write it. She registered copyright on a synopsis for The Matrix 4. She has concepts of a plan for a Matrix 4.

The book ends with a pitch for another...she calls it a book, but it's a movie pitch? And this, too, is just a synopsis for some grand epic series, light on detail of character and plot and heavy with lore and rants (in this case, primarily about God and Adam & Eve). Of course her exhaustively long but barely sketched-out epic movie pitch has a prologue, which is also full of Christian-tinged Ancient Aliens pyramid power woo.

Sophia Stewart is unimportant, bc she represents a class of writer. Writers who have Ideas. Who have outlines and plot points but no real story, bc they never write it. But they think just having Really Good Ideas is enough - that you should get credit for coming up with a good idea for a story, regardless of if you make an actual story out of it. They're a "writer", but they never write. Despite this they often have a deep case of Dunning-Kruger, churning out outlines that leave out basic details like "what happens in the climactic battle" and the personalities of characters while insisting that an inability to author anything shouldn't keep you from being praised as a genius author

If that type of person is lucky enough to have money, they become a studio executive or tech guy, both professions awash in the uncreatively creative, or they hire ghostwriters. If they're not, they become the type of person to file spurious lawsuits under the misapprehension they own basic plot concepts. It's the "I coulda made the majors!" of writing, except, you know. Baseball players who didn't make the majors still actually played baseball at some point. I assume from now on all those types will just pump their outline into ChatGPT and try to sell the gunk it slops out and then claim they 'wrote' it so uh, uhhhhhhhhhhhh

The only reason I made these posts was discovering the conspiratorial angle to her work, bc who cares if a major studio has to deal with a spurious lawsuit? That was the part that actually sucks. But also, she does a lot of press: profiles on news websites, podcasts, that documentary was even made by other filmmakers, who actually make films. It's persisted from blogs and chain emails all the way to podcasts and TikToks. All of this uncritically spreads her story, but I also have to ask: how many actual African-American science fiction writers do those platforms profile? How many of them get documentaries made about their work? How much air is being sucked out of the room by the decades long misinformation about the "true" creator of The Matrix? And why is that misinformation so persistent when it takes a trivial amount of effort to find out it just isn't true? It feels good to support the underdog against the big studio, but in this case it just isn't true.

The sad truth is a lot more Hollywood plagiarism cases look like this than are real exposures of wrongdoing, but people tend to accept them at face value since they feel like a little guy taking on a corporation, though in reality it's just two writers suing each other. Take The Holdovers case, where people immediately turned on it, but if you look into it, the two scripts have very little in common, and the accusing writer makes odd claims like a human character in The Holdovers being a ripoff of a billboard in his script.

Or look at Groundhog Day, which was accused of plagiarism by Richard A. Lupoff, writer of the story "12:01 P.M.". The two stories have nothing in common besides a time loop; in Groundhog Day he's reliving a day, in 12:01 PM he's reliving an hour. Groundhog Day is a romcom, 12:01 P.M. plays it for horror. Groundhog Day never reveals the source of its lop but it's clearly fantastical in nature, 12:01 P.M. is explicitly science fiction. In Groundhog Day he escapes the loop, in 12:01 P.M. he never does. You can't deny Lupoff felt personally slighted, but at the end of the day, a world where a writer could own the concept of time loops would be a dystopia where creativity and art would die.

But even though they were wrong, The Holdovers & Groundhog Day cases were based on real works of writing that existed. They were based on a real, if misguided, sense of violation from the writers. But in this case, we have a mere outline of a story with not even basic similarities to the stories she's claiming are a 1:1 copy of her work, and decades of media appearances based on exploiting a community college media student's mistake in 2004. Anyway seems bad

[good-beanswrites]

"Prisoner @waivyjellyfish ! Milgramblrgram has judged you guilty for your crimes! It is time to meet your judgement. As the wardens' fang, I take that responsibility upon myself!" (Muahaha -- Es angst for you 👊)

Es clutched at their head. Their fingers tore through their hair. It was the middle of the night, so they resisted the urge to shout. They didn’t want to draw any attention to themself. If they remained completely silent, though, they wouldn’t need to refrain from crying.

And so they cried.

You see, there is only one sensation worse than waking up from an awful dream: waking up from a very, very, good one. 

Es had grown accustomed to the nightmares that Milgram produced. In these dreams, Es might take the place of the prisoners. Their stomach would twist with horror at the blood on their hands. Other times, they found themselves in the victim’s shoes. They’d wake in a cold sweat, feeling hands closing around their throat, or weapons swung at their temple. 

But they weren’t prepared for a dream of absolute peace. They were happy. They were laughing. There were people nearby, smiling. It was all emotion and no detail – not a single face, place, or voice, was clear – but they knew for sure what the dream had consisted of.

Es was with their family. 

They choked out another sob. 

For the longest time, they wondered if they even had a past to remember. But that was all foolishness – Milgram was in the business of judging humans, not creating them out of thin air. They’d tried asking Jackalope, once. He turned out just as cryptic as some of the prisoners in their interrogations. Another time, they had considered using the prison’s mysterious machine on themself. There was no way to operate it alone, though. And when it came down to it, they were always alone.

They curled themself tight, dragging the bedsheets with them. Usually when they wondered about their past, mere curiosity washed over them. Now, they were flooded with an entirely new type of longing. It filled their chest. No, that wasn't it. Rather, the feeling left a wide hole through them.

If they did have a family, had Es been stolen away? Could there be someone else out there right now, crying in the middle of the night, just as hard as Es was crying for them? The thought was not comforting.

Or, like Es, had they forgotten all traces of their connection? That possibility also did more harm than good.

Es tried to reassure themself – if this family hadn’t come looking for them, maybe it meant they weren't wanted in the first place. Maybe Es had been willingly turned over to Milgram, their parents glad to be rid of them.

That thought didn't help at all.

Something clattered out in the corridor. That must have been what woke them. They rose from bed, ready to raise hell. How dare one of the prisoners rip them from such a dream. Es could never return. The offender would pay for this. 

It took only a moment to put on their uniform and wipe the tears from their cheeks. They swung the door open to find Haruka stumbling down the hall. 

“Prisoner number one, what the –” they grabbed his arm. Only then did they notice the dazed look in his eyes. His body flinched, waking from what must have been sleepwalking.

“Ah! W-warden!” He blinked, his mind still stuck somewhere else. “I’m s-sorry! What, ah… I was dreaming... She was – she was right here…”

Es took a measured breath. They steeled their expression. There would be no unleashing hell tonight. They had lost sight of their role. They had gotten distracted with childish emotions and silly dreams. They were Milgram’s warden, not some kid like Haruka who wandered around the prison late at night looking for his mama. 

Es adjusted the hat over their hair. It was good, they told themself, that they couldn't remember a thing from the dream. They didn't need any of those people. They were perfectly fine on their own. Such a distraction would not happen again.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

“But, my p-parents, they were–”

“They’re not here. Nobody is. Back to your cell, prisoner.”

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[charlotterenaissance]

baffling decision for season 2, episode 18 to end with lewis making a legit effort for charlotte, making a picnic of things she likes and hugging her and seeming really happy with her

only for episode 19 to trample all over that with him blowing her off after she mentions that she misses him and hasn't seen him for a while, then apparently forgetting he even has a girlfriend altogether and softly flirting with his ex while the narrative agrees that this is correct because, unlike charlotte, cleo always smiles when she first sees lewis. you know. unlike charlotte. who goes out of her way to try and make lewis happy and smiles literally every time she sees him. there's not even an episode between these!

[weareuniqueandimportant]

EMPATHY GLAMORIZATION IS NOT ABOUT EMPATHY BUT SUPERIORITY TORWARDS APATHETIC PEOPLE BIGOTRY TORWARDS THEM TYPICAL BIGOT EVIL. SIMPLE AS THAT. IF YOU SEE THEM AS LEFTIST YOU'RE NO LEFTIST YOURSELF. HORRIBLE. THAT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO HAVE ONLY EMPATHY AND BAD TO THINK EVERYTHING YOU DO IS SUCH ESPECIALLY WHEN THEY'RE CLEARLY BEING APATHETIC IF ANYTHING WHEN THEY DO THIS...

COMES TO SHOW BIGOTRY TORWARDS CRAZY AND DISABLED PEOPLE ASWELL AS PARAPHILIA PEOPLE ISN'T TAKEN AT ALL THE SAME AS SEXISM RACISM AND QUEERPHOBIA... OR PERHAPS... LIKELY... THEY ARE ALL THE BIGOTED THINGS EVIL AND TAKE NONE THAT SERIOUSLY... BELITTLING DOWN THEIR PAIN AND DAMAGE...

[tvuniverse]

Listen i just want to preface this by saying I don't even personally hate Tommy, but that's not really the point i want to make so here goes nothing.

The way a lot of people act as if it's impossible to dislike him because the characters have moved on so so should we, right? and that's the thing right here, as poc we're always being told to move on. We can't express our feelings, we can't hold grudges, we can't complain about issues without making it something more than it is, we always have to just... move on.

I know people are going to say it's just a show, it's not that serious, but the issues it touches on and the way fandom speaks on those issues are.

I've seen a lot of comparisons between Tommy and other mains, how each of them are flawed and have screwed up one way or another, and you're right, but it's still unfair to compare him to them. We've seen each of the main characters experience guilt, or be ashamed of their action, we've seen them apologise, put in the work to actually grow, and they have. There's not enough time in an episode for us to see that for side characters. In this case, Tommy didn't do any of the above and that's normal, he was a plot device to show some very real societal issues, and especially what people of colour/women might go through in the workplace, and once he served his purpose he didn't get much more beyond a few scenes where it seemed like everything was fine between him and chim/hen. It would be more appropriate to compare him to the buckley parents, (who appeared in more or less the same amount of episodes) like if people suddendly started saying no one is allowed to hate them because they got their redemption, their kids more or less forgave them, they more or less tried to be better parents. And yet it's still not enough for a lot of people, because how they treated their children, the shit they've said to them, hits a little too close to home for a lot of people and so no matter what the show says or does, they'll still be mostly hated by the audience, and that's more than okay. But if margaret buckley is your favourite character than by all means be my guest. And listen, i love this show, it's all about hope, and it means everyone gets a redemption arc, as short as it is (sometimes even just a sentence lol), but we won't always be satisfied with these arcs, especially if they don't feel proportional to the hurt the characters may have caused to our mains, so we'll all have different reactions to them.

I swear liking a morally ambiguous/grey character says absolutely nothing about you, but making excuses for them, antagonising people who might dislike them (for good reasons) or acting like suddenly triggers don't exist for people, does say something about you. One of my favourite characters is literally the worst person ever, an actual bigot, but i won't ever write essays about why people are not allowed to dislike him actually because he's my babygirl.. i very much understand why people would.

All of this to say, everyone will have different opinions about Tommy. Some might love him, some will be completely neutral or at worst slightly uncomfortable/bothered by him, and some will straight up hate him, and all of these are fine. Live and let live, love whoever you want to love, and hate whoever you want to hate, but please stop trying to dictate how others should feel, i'm begging. And this really does go both ways.

[scalproie]

Domesticated Post-Tekken 2 Era Kazuya is my favorite to think about because this would be so good for him and everyone else but he would have an absolutely miserable time during it

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 9 ! :)

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 12: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should rest for the night in an abandoned barn ...

~

Somewhat nervous about being out in the woods alone at night, he decides to try finding a more hidden sleeping spot, further off from the path. Though with his injuries, and his exhaustion, he knows he shouldn't walk too far. He tells himself that he'll just adventure a little, only an hour or so, and if he can't find anything better by then, he'll just give up and set a tent in some bushes somewhere......

After 30 minutes, he finally stumbles across an old barn. He can't see it very well with just a trickle of moonlight and the dull glow of his flickering lantern, but it seems to have not been used for many years. Structurally sound enough (at least he hopes), yet shrouded in moss and blankets of various overgrowth.. It takes a few moments to pluck away all of the ivy blocking his path, but he soon closes the rickety doors behind him to focus on the interior. There's no space to light a fire or set up a real tent, and he'll have to block a few holes in the walls so wild animals don't sneak in, but, there are a few surprisingly clear looking sections scattered amongst all the musty hay bales and cobwebs. He chooses a "cozy" spot in the corner, hidden behind a few dusty crates. Though he tosses about uncomfortably in his bedding for quite a while, he's eventually able to fall into a peaceful sleep.….....

.. Suddenly, he's startled awake by rustling, catching a dark blurred movement in front of him. He's smart enough to always sleep wearing his backpack over his chest so nobody could just grab it without him noticing, but it seems for the first time in all his travels... someone is actually trying to. Still half asleep, he clings to the bag and yelps, pushing and tumbling away into a moldy wooden barrel after an initial struggle. He pulls himself up to face the hooded figure now looming above him, entirely obscured aside from their vague cloak-ish shape outlined by the faint moonlight behind them.. The Adventurer calls out in a shaky attempt at an aggressive tone, "Wh-wh.. whAT are YOU DOIng? WHo-whu..UHHH??? aahhhG" "Give me the bag." The hooded figure speaks in a smooth, stern, yet calm voice, slowly taking a step forwards. The cat scrambles to The Adventurer's side, hissing and giving a low growl.. "w-WELL , uh,, sORRY , n-NO , I would rrrather not DO THAT, I h-- I uh-- I don't have even anythi- I don't even have ANYTHING, I mea- wh-wh HWaAt d-do I look RICH to you?? EUggh-" he gulps loudly, holding back nervous vomit, "B-BACK OFF!! you-.. f- uh.. THIEF!!!!!" The hooded figure pauses for a moment, as if re-strategizing how to approach the situation. "Look, kid, I don't want to hurt you. But I need you to give me that egg." "WHWh-what egg? I-I don.. DON'T have an EGG, I'm uh…aCTUALLY a-allergic to eggs, s-sso-" "The egg that's in a wooden box. In your bag. Don't waste your time bullshitting me.. Come on, let's make this quick." The hooded figure extends their arm, motioning to be handed the egg. Still desperately fighting not to throw up everywhere, The Adventurer simply sits on the floor, staring up at the hooded figure blankly as he tries to think.. Is he seriously being robbed for the first time? Is that like, a cool milestone, or a bad one? He's read about it in adventuring books before but... the reality feels so much different.. How can he get out of this? Strategies scatter through his mind, but he's too shaken to find any clear answers.. What should he do?

-

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has