#we know how it progressed and ended and the final solution

[readandwriteclub]

Meanwhile, Army Vets ain't gonna get the mental health or respect they deserve.

I think what we’re seeing here is an attempt to prepare the public for Trump’s war on immigrants. Definitely the lying about the attacks and perhaps the attacks themselves. Straight out of the Hitler play book which Trump and Stephen Miller, and some others) admire greatly.

[vivwritesfics]

Marshmallow

Her bed is too comfy for Bucky. But she has a solution

Fluff, fluff, so much fluff - but also I haven't written for this man in so long, it was like coming home

Her bed was like a marshmallow. Now, to most, this was no bad thing. But Bucky Barnes wasn't most. He was a soldier, Sergeant James Barnes. He wasn't used to comfort.

They'd met in such a normal way for a super soldier. Bucky had been trying to date, he'd been trying for so long after… everything, that he'd given up hope.

But there she was, reaching for a coffee that wasn't hers because she was too tired to proper comprehend it.

Her own name was called just after (Bucky definitely hasn't been listening while she ordered her own coffee, who said that?) and Bucky picked up her coffee and carried it to the outside table she'd been sitting at. There she was, ready to lift his coffee to her own lips.

“I think you've got mine,” he said with a warm smile as he showed her her own name written on the side of her cup.

She paused, pulled the coffee away from her mouth and looked at the name on the cup. Her head fell forward, embarrassment written on her face. “And my name isn't Bucky,” she said and pushed the cup of coffee towards him. “What kinda a name is that, anyway? I've never met a Bucky before.”

“It's a nickname,” he began as he slipped into the seat opposite her and placed her coffee down in front of her. He held out his flesh hand. “The name's James.”

“How do you get Bucky from James?”

Things progressed from there. Conversation was easy, in a way it hadn't been on any of his other dates and, by the end of the night, he was asking her to dinner.

It was dinner. And then a movie date. And then the library. Picnic in the park, nature walks, they did it all.

The first time Bucky stayed over (which took some convincing. They'd been seeing each other for three weeks and she'd determined that, after watching movies on her couch, it was too late for him to travel through the city back home), he'd just laid awake, sleep unwilling to find him.

He couldn't sleep, anyway. Not with her sleeping on his flesh arm. He played with her hair, touch gentle to not wake her. A little while before he met her, he would have seen a monster as his vibranium fingers played with her hair.

It kept happening. It was almost like Bucky couldn't stay away. And, every time he slept in her bed, she ended up sleeping against him in some capacity. Laying on his arm, head against his chest, holding his hand as it was wrapped around her middle.

He'd get used to it, he told himself. Lay there long enough and he'd fall asleep eventually.

Well, that wasn't how it was panning out. Bucky remained away, plastering a smile on his exhausted face the next morning so that she wouldn't worry about it. For now, it was working. For now, he was happy to wear that smile while they drank coffee on her couch, her feet in his lap.

It was his third night in her bed and Bucky was exhausted. Maybe this was the point where he could finally fall asleep beside her, holding her close.

But no, that wasn't the case. Of course it wasn't, Bucky never got that lucky.

She'd started the night laying on his chest, lips parted as soft snores left her lips. Bucky had his arm around her, keeping her close as he shut his eyes and tried to force himself into sleeping (which we know didn't work).

She rolled away from him in her sleep, releasing him completely. Bucky stayed there, laying on his back as he looked at her. She looked so pretty when she slept, and he couldn't stop himself from being jealous.

Pushing himself up, Bucky sucked in a breath. He rubbed his hand over his face, momentarily shutting his tired eyes. Even with his eyes shut, it offered him no rest.

It was, well, bullshit.

As carefully as he could, Bucky climbed out of the bed. He tried to leave the sheets undisturbed, to keep her asleep. But there was little he could do to stop himself from reaching over and kissing her cheek.

He left the room after that, feet quiet and carefully as they carried his heavy, muscled body away. He pulled the door as close to shut as he could without it clicking shut.

Loose in the apartment, Bucky didn't know what to do with himself. He got himself something to drink and just looked through the fridge. He sat on the couch, patting his thick, muscled thigh as he silently flipped through channels.

But there wasn't much he could do. Part of him debated laying on the floor and attempting to sleep, but he couldn't. Not when she was in the next room, probably searching for his warmth.

Through his boredom, Bucky remained quiet. He couldn't imagine anything worse than waking her up, not when she was sleeping so peacefully.

Except she wasn't sleeping peacefully. It was the absence of him that woke her. She knew something was wrong, she just couldn't place it. But then she woke up and Bucky was gone. That was what was wrong.

Wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and slipping her feet into her slippers, she walked out of the bedroom.

“Buck?” She called, voice groggy as she walked towards the couch. He turned his head, watching as she made her way to him and climbed up onto the couch. Throwing one leg over his, she seated herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around him. “What're you doing out here?”

His hands were on her hips as he looked at her. “Couldn't sleep,” he replied and pulled her towards him.

The kiss he placed against her lips was soft, sweet, slight beard scratching against her cheek as he moved towards her neck.

“I missed you,” she replied as she settled against him.

Suddenly, Bucky's lips stopped moving against her neck. He released a sigh and pulled back to look at her tired face. “Do you wanna know why I haven't taken you back to my place yet?” He asked and she nodded her head, fingers dancing across his chest in a soothing manner. “It's because I don't have a bed.”

“You don't have a bed?” She asked, looking up into his blue eyes.

He shook his head. “No, doll, I don't have a bed,” he repeated, his own fingers moving up and down her sides. It wasn't ticklish. No, it had her damn near falling asleep. “I tried to sleep on a bed, got an expensive one for my apartment. Had it for a week before I got rid of it. When I tried laying on the floor, I actually got to sleep.”

Suddenly, she was standing. She grabbed two pillows from the sofa, held them against her chest and grabbed his hand. “C'mon,” she said and led him over to the empty corner of the room.

Throwing the pillows down, she sat and laid the blanket down on top of her. She patted the space beside her, looking up at her with her pretty eyes.

Bucky sat beside her. She pulled the blankets over his legs and then pushed his back against the pillow. “Doll,” he began as she rolled over, resuming her position from earlier. “You don't have to do this.”

“I want to,” she replied and kissed his shoulder.

“But you back-”

And then she was hushing him, shutting him up with a kiss. “Let me do this for you. Besides, if things get uncomfortable I can always lay on you, right?”

“Right.”

She settled down against him, eyes shutting. But seconds later, Bucky had her in his grasp. He rolled her over until she was laying on top of him and kissed the top of her head. “There,” he said against her hair. “That's better.”

And, that night, Bucky Barnes fell asleep.

[cheezeybread]

Yuu's Overblot, Part Three!

The final chapter, the end to this triage of angst and stuff! Yippeeeeee!

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

"Hey, YN!" Chirped one of the students in your Alchemy class, leaning across the table to give you an award-winning smile. He had short hair, nearing a buzzcut, allowing his ears to twitch and move freely- what was he, a jackal beastman?- and wore a Savanaclaw uniform. "You wanna be partners for this assignment?"

You forced down a groan, knowing this guy's habit of partnering up with you for projects and leaving you high-and-dry to do all the work yourself. Before you could reply, you felt a hand gently rest itself on your shoulder.

"Actually, they said before class that we could partner up." You glanced up to see Jade, giving a tight-lipped smile at the Savanaclaw boy.

"How's about you and me partner up, Sunfish?" Floyd asked with a wide grin, appearing out of nowhere and squatting down to be eye-to-eye with the boy. Without waiting for a response, he wrapped an arm around the students and began to drag him away, the Savanaclaw boy whining fearfully as his tail tucked between his legs.

You leaned back in your chair to look up at Jade, eyebrow raising "Sunfish?"

"They're useless creatures who are rather ugly..." Jade chuckled, putting a hand over his mouth "My dear brother enjoys putting the nomer on creatures he finds unsavory."

"You guys are nuts," You chuckled. They weren't even in this class with you, since they weren't Freshmen. But lately, they had a tendency to show up whenever you needed it most. Especially when it came to classmates wanting to use you to do their work for them. But sometimes they weren't there....which gave you a perfect opportunity to practice on saying no to any students.

But you'd be lying if you said you didn't find it entertaining to watch the tweels use their powers of being terrifying for your benefit.

---

Everything was getting better.

All of your friends- even the Housewardens you weren't on the best speaking terms with- began working harder to make your life easier. Riddle made sure you understood all of your assignments, and helped you learn new studying techniques. Trey baked you goodies. Cater helped you learn more about the world through social media. Ace and Deuce were more supportive and protective of you. Leona, Ruggie, and Jack all made sure that you had a room available in Savanaclaw if anything happened again- or if Ramshackle were to collapse on itself. Azul made sure his VIP door was almost always open to you if you needed financial advice, and he made good on his promise to get you an easy job. The Twins, well....they did their thing. Kalim invited you to every party he threw (not that he didn't do that before) and gave you gifts from his homelands, providing you with furniture and decorations for Ramshackle. Jamil made sure you ate well, cooking whenever he felt you were having a bad day. Vil helped you with skincare and Alchemy work, even lending you some potions to use in "emergency" situations if you ever came across unsavory folks. Rook was- well, he was Rook. Epel offered a helping hand in the way of a beating if anybody messed with you. Idia and Ortho made certain that you had more than enough tech to keep you on a level playing field with magic-users. Malleus lent a shoulder to cry on and a venting buddy. Lilia and Sebek taught you self-defense. Silver was also a venting buddy, but he offered less than reasonable solutions to your problems (most of which were purely for chuckle purposes). And Grim tried to get into less trouble. Tried.

And all of the Housewardens kept their promise about researching a way to get you home. You'd receive updates on their progress once a week. Sometimes they'd have a bit of info found in an old library book that might have been about your world, or maybe a passage found on dimensional travel. Sometimes they wouldn't have any updates, but they'd still be sure to tell you.

And as for Crowley himself. Well....Malleus wasn't lying when he said that he had him tied up in Diasomnia's basement. It gave you an opportunity to have a nice little "chat" with the Headmage without him interrupting with his incessant babbling. It almost pained you to take the gag off of him. But the two of you came to an agreement that you wouldn't be doing his work for him anymore. You would be living in Ramshackle for free, not only because you and Grim were a student together, but because it was the Mirror's fault you were trapped here. You owed Crowley nothing for merely existing in the wrong place.

And you started to feel better about life, bit by bit. With almost all of the pressure taken off of you, it made life feel more easy, more relaxing. You started to enjoy your time in Twisted Wonderland, even! Maybe if there really was no way for you to go home, then you could make a happy life for yourself here.

Maybe.

Maybe not.

But it was nice to have the option. And it was nice to feel okay since this all started.

You were better.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

[velvetvexations]

Can confirm I've been on here for years now and before Gamer Gate and then the rebirth of Terfism happened the widely accepted feminist talking point was that men suffer under the patriarchy and how we need to talk about that because one of the fastest ways to get cis men on our side was to show them we were already on their side!

I remeber posts with hundreds of thousands of notes talking about how men are assumed to be worse caregivers than women to the point that in custody battles even if the mother is beyond a shadow of a doubt the worst abusive mess ever and the dad is the embodiment of a perfect parent the kids will end up with the mom. It doesn't even matter if the dad says he wants the kids and the mom says she doesn't, the women still gets assumed to be the better caretaker!! This is misogyny effecting men!!

And I know MRAs are terrible but I remember a video going around talking about their recruitment points, like how more men die doing dangerous jobs and the draft or men getting no help when they've been abused by women and being assumed to be violent predators even when they haven't done anything and like yeah, they 100% came to the wrong conclusions about what causes the problems and what the solutions are bcs it's easier to act like women are the problem, but those problems as they were introduced in the early 2010s were actual problems feminism is trying to address, and if these men could see that we are fighting the same fights and join US we'd be stronger. There was a prominent internet feminist who got full on red pilled just by listening to men tell her about their real actual problems, and the time they pulled the rug out on blaming women it was too late, she was convinced, because yeah women aren't the real problem at the root of men's issues they do HAVE ISSUES. The trick is that they just need to tackle the patriarchy, not women. I also saw stuff that legit talked about how to recruit men by pointing out how badly the patriarchy "serves" them!! (GamerGate quickly ruined any and all salient points that existed in the MRA movement bcs the internet is a feedback loop and anger is easy/fun sadly but yeah I feel like it's weird to act like they were always wrong no matter what when they at least did point out real problems.)

And like RBG partially made her name in the courts defending a CIS MAN on the basis that he was being discriminated in a way a CIS WOMAN would not have been, and the ruling allowed for insane amounts of progress for women. A man not being allowed a tax credit to hire a nurse for his bedridden mother is one of the first things that challenged discrimination on the basis of sex in America. But sure men ONLY gain benefits from the patriarchy. It NEVER hurts them too!! And helping them won't benefit us!!! Making them our allies is silly they should all shut up 🙄

Hell back in the 2010s I still remember seeing trans men talk about how horrible and alienating it was for all of their female friends and family to suddenly start acting like they were a threat, and not just pointing out the inherent transphobia, the guy went on to talk about that they finally get why cis men are the way they are, they suffer from systemic emotional neglect. And yeah that obviously does not mean women owe them emotional avaliablity and sex, but maybe the patriarchy telling men to be big tuff guys who never hug or cry or like anything even a little girly HURTS THEM and is a direct cause of a LOT of the problems we're dealing with rn!!! There was a whole study about how widows tend to live a lot longer after their husbands because they have friends and family to lean on and weren't taught to suppress their emotions, meanwhile widowers tend to die VERY quickly after their wives because they no longer have someone who it's okay for them to be open and emotional around, and not having someone you can do that with KILLS PEOPLE. People were saying again, this does not mean women HAVE to take on all their problems, but maybe that we need to stop assuming men don't need emotional support and teach our sons to not be afraid of being ulnerable, honest people because systemic emotional neglect IS BAD FOR YOU ACTUALLY.

These were ACTUAL conversations that swept this damn site. This was the direction feminism was going in. We were on the cusp of a beautiful age of 4th wave feminism with the knowledge that the patriarchy seves no one well and free the nipple and no gender segregated bathrooms and sports, and now just pointing out that we need to maybe understand the ways men struggle under the patriarchy if we've ever going to have them join and help us build a better world gets my inbox flooded with both terfs and so called progressive feminists calling me a gender traitor for being willing to admit men arent the source of all the world's ills and WE NEED THEM ON OUR FUCKING SIDE. I used to proudly call myself a 4th wave feminist back when people still claimed to be of the 3rd, and now idk what I even am. A bell hooks and leslie finberg feminist I guess, since they actually seemed to get it.

Yeesh. Anyway sorry that got heated. This has just ruined my brain. I do not understand where tf we went wrong, bcs hell back in the day we also pointed out how TERFs were wrong to want men and people they perceive as men and those "tainted" by men put to death for existing so they could build their stupid white supremacist wombyn utopia. We KNEW hating men just for being men was wrong and regressive and hurt maringalized men and did NOTHONG to push feminism forward. We talked about the issues that men face and how to raise our sons to be better. But idk I guess Gamer Gate and the Incel movement took off right as TREFs figured out the whole ace and truscum discourse thing wasn't working and they just needed to doctor their arguments against men better and radical feminism took off and this entire site regressed 1000 years and thinks trans men of all people are just as bad as cis men and trans women have a monopoly on an entire axis of oppression like?????

And I'm not putting the blame squarely on anyone aside from the radfems who started this shit but it does NOT surprise me that we are seeing a massive resurgence of biphobic, transmedicalism, and aphobia since half the queer discourse I see these days is anti-transandrophpbia assholes just word for word repeating the kind of blatant aphobia and truscumery that would have gotten you suplexed off the face of the earth in the 2010s with the identities swapped. Just word for word monosexist aphobic shit. Legit is giving me flashbacks, it's insane.

I have never in my life been more disappointed in my community of queer feminists. This is masks all over again. Like is this how kids who grew up evangelical feel when they realized actually the adults didn't mean literally love all your neighbors silly just the Correct ones?? I feel like I'm in the twilight zone. What the hell happened to us.

Thank you for writing all this anon, you put enough work in it I'm gonna toss it in the tags, I think it deserves to be seen. <3

The problem with MRAs was never that they believed men had problems too, but that they used certain things - like their disadvantage in custody hearings, for instance - as a cudgel in a malicious crusade against a target they hated anyway for not fucking them. Now with as quick as people are to say things like "what, are you saying androphobia exists too?????" it feels as though we've completely forgotten the actual reason we ever hated MRAs to begin with.

It's the same with the dating article where the most basic possible interactions between two adults mutually seeking a hook-up were taken to be pick-up artistry.

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Yo! Good morning/evening, hope you are fine^^💝. I wanted to ask you a question but I was afraid that it may bother you or something (you know..that feeling when you are scared that you might disturb someone or being an unwelcome person) but yeah I will ask you since i was serious about your answer for some time now so I hope I'm not annoying you or something *feel free to answer only if you wish^^. You seem to know the characters pretty well, you are quite capable and great at reading and understanding them, one of the things I'm serious about is what do you think would make someone qualified enough to be with malleus? Do they have to be of the same species?certain Reputation, stature or traits?(sorry can't help it since I can't rest until I know everything about what interests me and figure it all out😅). Thanks for giving me some of your precious time I really like your blog, you're amazing💜

No worries, you’re not bothering me at all ^^ I love to talk about my hyperfixations www

Now, I know a lot of fans (particularly on the EN side) like to ship Malleus with their OC and especially with Yuu so I want to first make it clear that my response is NOT meant to invalidate those Malleus shippers. Whatever I say here is based on my own interpretation of canon lore (and let’s be real here, TWST won’t ever confirm if anyone is romantically interested in Yuu because it might not work with how some players view their own relationship with that character). In fanon, anyone can be with anyone, but in canon there are very specific in-universe rules and expectations laid out for Malleus so these are what I will be referring to.

I also want to emphasize that the final traits I discuss in this post do NOT reflect Malleus’s personal tastes or views. He has little say in what kind of an individual his spouse would be, so his own preferences are not speculated about or taken into account here. The traits I will be bringing up are based on what I believe the lore implies are the desirable traits for those marrying into the Draconia royal family.

We got it? Good 👍 Read more below the cut!!

Firstly, I’m completely disregarding the ideas of “Malleus can love whoever he wants to love”, “Malleus can scare people into accepting who he loves”, and/or “Malleus can change the law so he can marry who he loves” (a la Sultan from Aladdin or through some other Disney magic or logic). Here’s why:

In general, those solutions for “high stakes issues” are too simple, and that has never been how Twisted Wonderland tackles complicated problems. Just look at every single OB boy’s backstory. They’re so complex that they aren’t totally resolved by the end of their books; these problems persist and are long term things each of them are working on addressing. This is also true of the politics TWST introduces to us; Leona for example explains how there is social pushback and resistance to the idea of infrastructure reform because the culture of the Sunset Savanna stresses harmony with nature. This has made it difficult for them to adopt new technologies because real politicians in their world have to seriously weigh their cultural values with their health and societal progress. The only time there are really easy solutions are in events or vignettes where the emotional stakes are not super high, but who Malleus marries is, in fact, super important since this will entirely change the life of a main character and his country.

With that first bullet point in mind… No, Malleus cannot love whoever he wants to love. Certainly, he may feel affection for another but he can never truly be with them. He is royalty and the only heir to the throne of Briar Valley. It follows that he is expected to marry for political reasons/to better his nation. This is a non-negotiable obligation for him.

Rather than saying, “Malleus cannot scare people into accepting who he loves”, I think it’s more accurate to say Malleus knows he probably shouldn’t. I mean, yes, he may be upset about his S/O not being accepted by his people but I feel that is discrediting a lot of the loyalty he has for his own country. As a kid he may have thrown tantrums when he was upset and potentially harmed staff, but as a 178 year old he has a much better understanding of decorum and maintaining it in spite of his own grudges. For example, even though he personally dislikes Leona he still commands Sebek to apologize to him because, at the end of the day, this could harm Briar Valley’s relationship with the Sunset Savanna. That’s not to say that Malleus can’t be petty (he definitely is)—but implying he would be petty toward basically his entire country just because they would disapprove of the one he loves?? (We know this would likely be true because Sebek’s parents faced similar backlash when they got together.) I feel like his own sense of awareness and responsibility for his country, crown, and people would override that. As an example, Malleus states that he has never been in a car before because the senate would be against it and often kept Malleus in the castle. Someone of his power could easily ignore them and sneak out and do whatever he wanted, yet the dialogue implies Malleus didn’t. He obeyed his political advisors even when he was younger and arguably much more immature. Malleus might not like certain decisions made about his life but it sounds like he ultimately complies with them.

Continuing from the previous point, let’s say for the sake of argument that Malleus does scare everyone into line. What about his public image and the mental health of his S/O? Maybe Malleus can frighten people to not talk out of turn to his face, but he cannot control what people whisper about him behind closed doors or to treat his S/O well or like they actually like them. Not only would they be alienated (away from their own home and forced to adapt to a new one) but they’d be treated oddly by others too. What kind of reputation is that for Malleus? To be a tyrant king who throws a hissy fit anytime someone talks about his partner in a way he doesn’t approve of? With a spouse who is not at their best mentally because of the constant ostracization? (This is similar to what Leona experienced in his childhood.) I don’t think Malleus would want to subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not one he loves. And again, this attitude would be the vast majority of his people. It’s not like it can be avoided or resolved in an easy manner, especially when the people of Briar Valley have proven to be against change.

Lastly, Malleus would not change the law so he can be with whoever he wants to. To begin with, I doubt this is a unilateral position the senate would approve of. But okay, let’s accept that Malleus is royalty so his power overrides the advisors’ power. So he effectively just changed a law for a very selfish and personal reason rather than changing something to actually benefit his people. That doesn’t feel in-character for him, not when Malleus seems to understand that it is the duty of those in higher status to help those below them rather than themselves (see: Riddle’s Suitor Suit vignettes. Malleus has acted selfish before, yes (who remembers Endless Halloween Night? His Dorm Uniform vignettes? I do.)—but never at the cost of changing the status quo of his country. (Book 7 is not included here because he’s in a very distressed emotional state then; this “new law” scenario posits that Malleus is in a normal state of mind.) This is a major change—change which Briar Valley, its people, and most importantly, Malleus, are not ready for. You think there wouldn’t be social pushback against this? From a society that has become complacent with its own way of life and is still isolated from the rest of the world? That Malleus, someone who struggles greatly with accepting life changes himself, could enact such a big change so easily? (On a more technical level, you don’t just pass a law and it instantly becomes tangible or real, there is a process of approval and then implementation.)

Additionally, it’s made clear in Ghost Marriage that “[Malleus] cannot enter into an engagement lightly”, which is why Sebek goes in his place. Eliza, the Ghost Bride, is royalty (er, albeit dead) but it seems that royal status is not enough to qualify as his partner. Maybe this is because she’s dead and doesn’t have anything of value for Briar Valley (no land, no people, no political power), but it could also mean that the partner has to be given the thumbs up by other parties.

All that being said, here are some of the conditions I think would have to be met for Malleus’s future spouse:

Has to be someone of equal or at least high status. This means they also have to be a royal or at least of nobility. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who is referred to as a duke.

Because of how self-contained Briar Valley is + nocturnal fae having beef with diurnal fae, I imagine his partner would have to also be a nocturnal fae. This would also solve the MASSIVE lifespan difference between fae and non-fae because at least fae would be far closer to each other even if their lifespans fluctuate but subspecies.

Someone suited to rule by his side. Being married into any royal family is no joke—it comes with the expectation that you will contribute somehow, and the partner should be fully equipped to enter the world of politics with him.

Piggybacking off the last point, I think mental fortitude is also a prerequisite. This is because being a politician (navigating the social climate both within your country and outside of it, keeping your people and colleagues happy, maintaining public approval, managing laws, dealing with potential attempts on your life, etc.) can be very stressful and can hurt those who are faint of heart or not prepared for the responsibility. Leaders have to make tough calls at the drop of a hat, and they have to be ready for it.

Has a lot to offer in terms of benefits to Briar Valley as a country. This could be in terms of resources, connections, and/or political savvy. This appears to be true of Malleus’s dad, who acted as a diplomat for Briar Valley.

Vetting and formal approval from the senate. lmao good luck with that

Has to be able and willing to have a child. They at least need an heir to the throne to succeed Malleus. (However, knowing how exclusionary and conservative as heck the senators are, I doubt they would accept anything but a biological child 💀)

Preferably someone with powerful magic or is skilled at magic already so as to lessen the chance of “tainting” the bloodline with a weak mage or a non-mage.

I believe that Briar Valley would prefer someone with old fashioned values like them, not someone pushing for massive reform. They have a culture that is resistant to change and a history of fighting for resources with outsiders, so if Malleus’s new spouse tries to introduce a bunch of technology or open its borders to other countries (even if they have good intentions), the people + the senate may oppose them. His father is implied to be open-minded, but he at least understood that such change isn’t reasonable without time and effort dedicated to the endeavor.

All that being said 💦 I think that this topic is actually less about what Malleus as an individual wants and what his country, his people, and, yes, even his asshole senators, want. This is basically an arranged marriage situation so that their country can maintain power and relevance. It’s about the collective and what Malleus must do for their perceived security and prosperity.

[redrose10]

Yoongi x Female Reader. Soulmate AU

Summary: There’s no one on this planet you hate more than your coworker/secret crush Min Yoongi. He’s an arrogant, rude, womanizer who gets under your skin every single shift and you can’t wait for your day to be over so you can get away from him. Unfortunately when Jimin, your caseworker from The Ministry of Adoration, shows up offering you both a raspberry jam filled cookie, things take a surprising turn for the worst and you can no longer get away.

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut (nothing graphic or really detailed), a little angst, Yoongi gets around, small hint to homophobia, mentions a guy not taking no for an answer. Might get updated later

Tag list: @kam9404 @yoongisducky @farfromsugafanfic @welcometomyworld13 @viankiss @ktownshizzle @bear8585

(I think I got everyone. If I missed someone I’m sorry and please let me know.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 3- Tea and Tteok-bokki

Word Count: 3,702

When you woke up the next morning you felt a little guilty for being so harsh towards Yoongi the night before. Maybe you did overreact a little because why did you care that you weren’t his ideal type? Even though you had a massive crush on him and you technically were soulmates you still had a deep seated hatred for him or so you thought.

You also woke up and regretted asking Han out and thought about canceling, but then realized maybe it would be good for you to actually go out, meet other people. Especially since Yoongi clearly wasn’t interested.

A knock at your door caught your attention and got you up out of your still semi induced sleep state.

Waking Yoongi was harder than you expected, but you finally got him up and followed behind him as he opened the door.

A smiling Jimin greeted you both. “Here have some breakfast. I got you some bagel sandwiches and two green teas. I thought you might be sick of coffee.”, he said handing over the packages.

He let himself in and took a seat before clapping his hands together, “So I think we need to have a little meeting because you two are one week down and have made zero progress from what I can see. If anything you went backwards.”

“We know.”, you both nodded.

“So then why am I hearing about hook ups with blondes in lingerie, and club girls, and why is Y/N going on a date with some other guy?”

“Wait how do you know all of that?”, you asked.

“I know everything.” Jimin replied.

“Okay but ho-“

“E V E R Y T H I N G”

You had to admit seeing this side of Jimin was a little intimidating. He was normally bubbly and smilly, but he was completely serious at the moment making you realize just how alarming this whole situation was.

He popped a donut hole in his mouth before continuing, “So what is the plan? How do we get you two to actually start trying to make this work?”

“I don’t know, but we’ll make it happen.”, Yoongi nodded.

“Good because I don’t want to have to make another early morning visit over here to voice my frustrations. I am not a nice person before 8am.”

“Yeah I’ll say.”, Yoongi replied while you nodded feeling like a scolded child.

“Y/N can I have a few minutes alone with Yoongi please?”, Jimin asked. You looked around confused as to where he wanted you to go since you couldn’t walk that far away from them.

Spotting your solution you grabbed a pair of headphones off of the table showing them to Jimin for approval which he nodded for so you placed them on your head and began streaming some music to drown out their conversation.

Once he was sure you couldn’t hear anything he turned his attention to Yoongi, “So how did you manage to mess up last night? I thought you were supposed to bring another date to the wedding to make Y/N jealous? Why didn’t it work?”

Yoongi nervously scratched the back of his neck, “Well I ended up not asking the other girl and just taking Y/N as my date instead.”

“And why exactly did you do that? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted her to be my date for the night. I didn’t want to take anyone else. I wasn’t sure she’d even get jealous if I did anyways.”

“Okay then… so how did things end so badly that she asked another guy out?”, Jimin asked frustration evident in his voice.

“Everything was going great and then she overheard my cousin talking about how she isn’t the type of girl I usually go for and then I don’t know what happened. She just stormed off and has barely spoken to me since.”

Jimin sat with his elbows on his knees looking between the two of you before bringing his fingers up to rub his temples, “How did I end up assigned to a case with the two biggest idiots ever?”

“Excuse me. Who the fuck do you thin-“. Yoongi began, but Jimin cut him off.

“Let me spell this out for you as simply as I can. Everything was going just great between you two yesterday. Then Y/N got upset with you when she overheard your cousin saying that SHE wasn’t YOUR ideal type.“

Yoongi nodded his head, “Yeah I don’t get it either.”

“Oh my god. You two are starting make me rethink my career choice.”, Jimin huffed.

Then he continued, “Y/N got upset when she heard she wasn’t your ideal type…meaning you wouldn’t be interested in her.”

Jimin watched closely expecting Yoongi to come to the same conclusion, but instead he just sat there in silence sipping on his tea.

“I am not paid nearly enough for this.”, Jimin sighed.

He sat forward a little to pull Yoongi attention in, “Yoongi, firstly I want to start by saying that you’re lucky you are so attractive because of it wasn’t for your looks I don’t know what you’d bring to the table. Secondly, Y/N likes you. You big doofus.”

Yoongi continued to stare at the floor until Jimin’s words finally clicked.

“She likes me?!”

“YES! Why else would she be soooo upset thinking that you would never like her back.”

“So then I should just kiss her!”, he exclaimed.

But Jimin shook his head, “Not exactly. You both need to come to terms with your feelings and the kiss needs to be mutual. You can’t just ambush her.”

“Why are there so many fucking rules?”, Yoongi groaned.

“Don’t know. I didn’t make ‘em, I just enforce ‘em.”, Jimin replied popping another donut in his mouth.

“So what do we do now?”

“Well you and Y/N have two weeks to figure it out. Let’s hope her date goes poorly and maybe you could try actually being pleasant to her. Maybe try and woo her.”

Yoongi chuckled, “I’ve never had to woo anyone before. I don’t woo.”

“Trust me, I noticed.”, Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Maybe try some flowers just because. Tell her to her face that she looks pretty instead of drooling over her when she’s not looking. Maybe compliment her in public. Take her on an actual date. Try to hold her hand. You know…relationship things.”

Yoongi pondered for a moment, “Okay I’ll try.”

“Good boy! That’s what I like to hear.”

Jimin caught your attention signaling for you to remove the headphones which you happily obliged.

He grabbed his things and began walking towards the door before spinning around, “Okay both of you promise me that you’re actually going to try and make this work.”

You nodded your head while you heard Yoongi scoff next to you earning him an elbow to the ribs before he finally nodded as well earning a smile smile Jimin.

The following days Yoongi was uncharacteristically nice to you. Like sickenly sweet, lovey dovey nice to the point you offered to take him to the hospital because you were worried he somehow had a head injury even though you knew he hadn’t even come close to hitting his head at any point.

On Monday you woke up to a giant bouquet of roses being delivered to your front door with a card from him. He even sprung for a little teddy bear to be included. You thought it was super sweet, but really weird. Especially when you thanked him and he turned the same color as the roses.

On Tuesday he took you to your favorite lunch spot. He encouraged you to order whatever and how much you wanted and paid for all of it without even a snarky remark. Afterwards he also stopped for ice cream and a walk through the park.

Wednesday was a terrible day weather wise so the two of you stayed in and watched tv. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him consistently move his hand ever so slightly closer to yours his fingers twitching before he’d end up pulling away. He did this close to twenty times before letting out a long sigh and resigning to crossing his arms on this chest as you finished up the next episode. You knew it was odd, but didn’t want to start an argument by asking.

Now it was Thursday and the two of you were working a double shift together.

It was super busy thanks to the hot weather and a buy one get one half off promotion going on.

You had just finished up with a customer when you heard Yoongi clear his throat next to you.

“Can I help you?”, you asked amused.

He remained silent staring out the window while fidgeting with the end of his apron, a nervous habit of his that you had noticed a long time ago.

“Umm well I uh I’m…”

“Are you having a stroke?”, you giggled

“Just forget it.”, he whispered before turning away from you.

“No I’m sorry.”, you said grabbing his arm.

“What did you want to tell me?”

He took a deep breath, “I just wanted to tell you that youlookreallyprettytoday.”

“I’m sorry Yoongi I couldn’t understand that.”

“Why is this so hard?”, he mumbled before turning to face you, “Y/N, I think you look really pretty today.”

Your eyes widened in shocked. The Min Yoongi giving you a compliment without being provoked? And in public like this?

“Oh yeah I’m sure I look great after sweating and being soaked in coffee and sugar for the last 8 hours.”, you chuckled.

You expected him to laugh or even make a sarcastic remark, but he just nodded, “Yeah I do think you look pretty like this.”

“Oh oh okay, well thank you.”, you whispered feeling your cheeks heat up both in embarrassment and confusion.

You went to try and give a compliment back when you heard someone say your name grabbing your attention.

“Oh hi Han”, you forced a smile.

“Hi Y/N, ready for our date tomorrow?”

“Oh of course! Can’t wait.”, you exclaimed a little too excitedly.

You heard Yoongi snort next to you causing you and Han to both look in his direction. Han visibly tensed up once he noticed how close Yoongi actually was which you had to admit made you smirk a little.

“What can I get for you?”, you asked trying to get Han out of the cafe.

“Umm what do you suggest? Like if Y/N was going to order a drink using her pretty little mouth what would she have?”

This time it was Yoongi’s turn to tense up before turning to Han, “She’d have a large cup of fucking order something or get the fuck out.”

Han stepped back in surprise. You were no stranger to seeing Yoongi or one of the other guys put Han in his place, but something about the way he snapped back at him this time really stirred up some feelings in you.

Wanting to just make the sale and move on with your day you continued, “I’d probably just get a black coffee and add some hazelnut creamer. I’m pretty easy like that.”

“Mmhhhmm I hope so.”, Han replied as you quickly finished up at the register wanting out of the situation. You had missed the way Yoongi gripped the counter until his knuckles turned white thanks to Hans little comment.

You handed him his drink and as he was leaving he turned to you, “So we’ll meet at 6pm? At that Italian place I told you about?” You nodded as he turned and happily walked out the door.

“Seriously you’re still gonna go out with that creep?”, Yoongi suddenly spoke making you jump a little.

“Yes. I like him. Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”, you asked secretly hoping he’d give you a good reason not to go.

“Yes because I love you and I want you to stay home with me forever.”, he said internally, but outwardly he just shrugged, “I don’t know. Do whatever you want. You’re an adult.”

You simply nodded while trying to ignore the way the atmosphere shifted between you two and how Yoongi suddenly became cold and callous towards you. He remained that way for the rest of the shift as well as at home.

The next day you woke up determined to enjoy your date. Maybe Han came off kind of creepy and forward, but you were hoping he was just an awkward idiot who was actually a sweet guy.

Yoongi sulked on the bed as he watched you go through your closet. He couldn’t believe he was going to have to sit there alone at a restaurant while the love of his life goes on a date next to him.

“Okay pink or purple?”, you asked holding up two different dress options.

“I don’t care. Whatever you want.”, he spat back.

You licked your lips in annoyance before deciding on the pink one.

Once at the restaurant and after a very awkward conversation of having to explain to the hostess that Yoongi had to have a seat as close to you as possible, but still at a different table you were sat across from Han. You felt overdressed once you realized he had shown up in jeans and a dirty tshirt. He didn’t even bother to shower or comb his hair. You were appalled at his lack of effort.

He was going on and on about some video game that you’d never even heard of and your mind drifted over to Yoongi.

You snuck a peak and saw him reading through the menu while he sipped on his drink. Even though he was sat alone he wore a crisp navy blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up that he paired with a dark wash jean. His hair was lightly styled and you knew he smelled amazing because you couldn’t stop thinking about it as his cologne filled the air of the car on the drive over.

“Will the Mrs. be joining you this evening?”, you heard the waitress ask him.

He smiled, “No dining solo tonight.”

“Oh that’s too bad. I bet she’ll be so devastated that she missed out on a date night with you.”

You rolled your eyes at the waitresses clear attempt to flirt while confirming whether or not Yoongi actually had someone.

You saw him smirk before he replied, “There actually isn’t anyone. But uh maybe that could change tonight.”

The waitresses cheeks turned pink as she scurried over to the next table. You felt a wave of jealousy and a maybe a little hurt wash over you. You were no stranger to watching Yoongi flirt, but for some reason that time it really struck a cord with you. You were also currently on a date with another man so you had no idea why that little interaction made you feel such a way and you felt a little guilty for feeling so because if you could go out with someone else then so could Yoongi.

You turned your attention back to Han for a while before you decided you need a break and pulled out your phone sending a text to Yoongi,

You: I need to go to the bathroom.

Demon Kitty: Okay? Here’s a cookie 🍪

You: 🙄

You: As much as I would love to, I can’t go without you. So please get up and I’ll follow right after.

Demon Kitty: But my dinner should be here any minute 🥺

You were about to reply when Yoongi stood up and slowly started walking towards the restrooms.

“I’ll be right back. I have to use the restroom.”, you let Han know before you stood up waiting for a group of women clearly from a bachelorette party to pass you before quickly catching up to Yoongi who had hid himself off to the side to wait for you.

Yoongi was as close up to the bathroom door as he could be while you quickly tried to do your business.

“Hurry up Y/N! I’m pretty sure this old woman is about to call the police on me.”, he hissed through the door.

“Sorry sorry, this dress is a pain.”, you said opening the door.

“Yeah well I did tell you to wear sweatpants remember?”

“I’m not wearing sweatpants on a dat-“

Yoongi suddenly stopped in front of you causing you to crash into his back, “What the hell Yoongi?”

Quickly he turned around, “Uhh let’s go home.”

You shook your head, “No I want to go back to my date.”

“Please Y/N, let’s just go.”

“What has gotten into you?”

“Diarrhea. I knew that calamari tasted weird.”

“Eww tmi. But let me at least go grab my sweater.”

“No need. I’ll buy you a new one.”, he said trying to pull you away.

You managed to slip out of his grip though and when you looked around the corner you saw Han sitting at the table making out with one of the women from the bachelorette party. Your mouth went dry as you watched the two of them going at it.

Yoongi cleared his throat and motioned for you follow him which you did. Once back in the comfort of his vehicle he looked you over.

“Are you okay? I know you liked him.”, he softly spoke.

He wasn’t expecting you to chuckled, but you couldn’t help it, “Honestly I didn’t even really like him. I just wanted to prove that I wasn’t some stuck up prude, but I guess I won’t even get that chance.”

Yoongi watched you as you fidgeted with your fingers while staring out of the window. He really hoped it wasn’t his worlds that made you feel like you needed to prove that. Even though deep down he knew they were.

He started up the car and began driving.

“Where are you going?”, you asked realizing he wasn’t going home.

“You’ll see.”

Not long after he parked at one of the local night markets that was packed with various street vendors selling goods.

“Neither of us ate dinner so I figured we could get some food before going home.”, he said.

You nodded, “Sounds nice.”

You both talked for what felt like hours as you walked around the market stopping at various stalls. You really got to know a lot about each other that neither of you ever bothered to do before.

You were getting full, but agreed that you couldn’t leave without getting an order of tteokbokki.

You had begun to stare off into the night sky when you heard Yoongi clear his throat. You looked over finding him holding out a single piece of tteokbokki, “A tteokbokki for your thoughts.”, he smiled.

You laughed before taking the toothpick and popping the cake in your mouth.

“What’s wrong with me Yoongi?”, you asked after swallowing it down.

His eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. I asked out Han because I thought he would be an easy hookup, but that clearly didn’t work out. Even someone like him didn’t want me. Jae didn’t want me. My two boyfriends before that didn’t want me. Even my own soulmate doesn’t want me.”

Yoongi could feel his heart shattering. Gently he grabbed your chin turning you to face him, “Y/N, please don’t ever feel like that. There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. You’re smart, funny, a hard worker. You’re beautiful. All those guys are big fucking idiots.”

“You were include in that group you know?”, you giggled.

“Yeah and I’m the biggest idiot of them all.”, he laughed back.

You felt like your heart was going to explode. You weren’t completely sure, but a part of you felt like this was his way of admitting that he loved you. You wanted to confess and say something to confirm it, but there was that little part of you that was worried you were misreading everything.

As you were having an internal debate about whether or not to confess Yoongi leaned in ever so slightly. Everything in his body was telling him to move closer, confess his love for you and then gently pull your face to him so that he can lean in and kiss you like he’s always wanted to. Then take you back home and show you all the ways that you were perfect to him.

He leaned in a little closer waiting to see if you’d back away and when you didn’t he took that as his sign.

“This is really hard to say even though it shouldn’t be so I’m just going to come out and say it.”

Your heart felt like it was beating a million beats per second and Yoongi was starting to worry that he really did get poisoned by some bad calamari judging by how his stomach felt like it was doing flips.

He managed to push through though and continued, “Y/N, I know I don’t really act like it, but I really do lo-“

“There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you.”, a high pitched voice exclaimed next to you.

“Rose? What are you doing here?”, Yoongi asked looking very confused.

“You told me to meet you here silly!”

Yoongi remained silent.

Rose pulled out her phone, “Yeah see here. You texted me yesterday at 9:07pm. Wanna meet up? It’s been a while. Need you baby. And then I said of course my little suga cookie. And then you said great. Meet me at the main night market at 8:30. Wear something easy to take off.“

Yoongi was speechless as you stared at him in disbelief.

“So here I am! Just like you asked.” Rose continued oblivious to the situation.

You swallowed the lump in your throat the best that you could. Apparently you had 100% completely misread the situation.

“Soooo are we going to head to the car or where did you want to do this?”, she asked excitedly.

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Um Rose I’m sorry but I actually think that maybe we shouldn’t continu-“

You cut him off, “Continue this here. He means continue this here. Come on. I know a place you both can go.”

You stood up and tossed the rest of your garbage in the trash. Rose happily followed after you while a confused Yoongi was forced to trail behind feeling like the biggest idiot in the world, a feeling he was getting quite used to.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think the Statue of Secrecy in the Harry Potter books should be broken?

I mean, that's an interesting question, and not one I'm sure I (or anyone else for that matter) is qualified to answer. It's sort of like asking "should a large and fundamental part of a culture change". It can change, and there'd be fallout from that, and the result would be something entirely different.

What I will say is the statute of secrecy, at least as we see it in Britain, sets up a potentially dangerous state of affairs for a civilization and especially one that is insistent on remaining ignorant of its neighbors.

There's a technical term for this that I'm completely forgetting at the moment but the idea is that if you have an extremely small civilization, in which there is also extreme isolation, then that civilization's technology not only tends not to progress but also regresses. This is a matter of population and knowledge being lost (you don't necessarily have 1-1 replacement for skills and techniques to retain what the civilization knows) and difficulty in innovating for similar reasons.

Now, wizarding Britain isn't quite this, and that's because we have Half-bloods and Muggle-borns. The population is ridiculously small, with Harry's class in Hogwarts being around ~30 total and no matter how JKR tries to convince me there's thousands at Hogwarts we only seem to see 100s if we're being generous, and the "pure" wizarding families being even smaller (~30 families many of which have died out). But we also get a few Muggle-borns every year and we get Half-bloods from magical people marrying Muggles either directly or those who came from Muggles two generations or less ago. We see technology transferred in from the Muggle world and accepted at large in the train for the Hogwarts Express, the Knight Bus, cameras, and radios.

There is technological transfer as well as some diversity in genetics.

The problem comes in that the wizarding world by isolating itself is incredibly vulnerable to diseases (dragon pox is noted as basically having wiped out Harry's grandparent's generation) and conflict (Voldemort's responsible for the ending of several cornerstone family lines). One bad famine, war, and epidemic could end the wizarding world the way it is now.

As it is, they may already be at a breaking point and not realize it, if enough of the families died out. (The Weasleys can't supply 3/4 of the population and you have to have someone there already to teach Muggle-borns magic in the first place).

There's also the issue that by isolating themselves so strictly the wizards have no idea how Muggles work or the state of the Muggle world. Arthur is painted as the best we see and he's offensively bad, it's a common gag how little he understands about the Muggle world as a Pureblood wizard. While people like Hermione and Harry are better, they also stopped their Muggle schooling at 11 and both spend as much time in the wizarding world as they can even during the few times they're sent back to the Muggle world. This is especially dangerous as Harry and Hermione think they understand the Muggle world extremely well, and while they're better than Ron, they're not the same as someone who is a Muggle, especially after they become adult wizards and have no reason to interact with the Muggle world anymore.

So we get a superficial understanding of Muggle technology (they know certain things exist, especially obvious physical devices, but their solution to making them work is to enchant them to float and they think they've got it) and basically 0 understanding of anything else.

We do see some crossover in that the Prime Minister has a direct line to the Minister of Magic, but we also see that it's a "you don't call us, we'll call you" type relationship in that the Prime Minister has been trying for ages to figure out what the fuck is going on when Fudge and Scrigemore finally show up and go "Oh, yeah, there's a changeover and we have a terrorist back who's going to fuck your shit up. Sorry". It's very clearly a position meant to shut the Muggles up and have their aid when the wizarding world needs something from them, not the other way around, which is bad relations (seen in canon, the PM was not a fan) and also makes it clear that the wizards don't care what the Muggles do or what they're up to so long as they do it off their lawn.

And that means... well, things could get spicy without the wizarding world having any means of warning.

Not to mention, of course, that it's barely being kept in place. We have canonical villages of obliviated people who act a little funny in the head because the wizards didn't want to move/wanted to feel progressive by living with Muggles. We have Harry alone causing a number of incidents such as flying a car over half the country with the obliviators then having to obliviate said half of the country. We have Muggle-borns popping up with the Ministry seeming to have no means of keeping track of them without the Hogwarts letter. We have a complete lack of understanding of recent Muggle technology (guys, a very small percentage of people actually understand how computers work, how information is stored, how it's replicated across the web, don't tell me that someone with a primary education up to age 11 understands all the nuance of computers. You may get one or two, but it's not going to be many and they're probably not going to have Ministry jobs because they're going to probably be Muggle-born and maybe, maybe, Half-blood).

So, basically, I think the statute of secrecy is unsustainable. They're rolling dice keeping it in place and one of those days they're going to roll for something that will not allow it to hold.

Does that mean it should be torn down?

Again, that's that "should" thing we got into at first, things would change, it'd get very messy and very ugly, but it's a change and not something I can really ascribe morality to one way or another. It just is.

[originalfatfiction]

Belonging

His name was Amos Stanton, and we’d met online. He was twenty-nine years old, eight years my senior, and we had been corresponding with one another since I was nineteen. He’d wanted to meet up with me on multiple occasions, offering to arrange everything to make it happen, but in the end I always chickened out. In all honesty, I was surprised he put up with me and my apprehension considering he seemed well-off and very honest about his intentions. I always had the feeling that he thought I was a flake who couldn’t truly commit.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like him. I thought about him constantly, but I had my reasons for being so hesitant to meet him in person. We’d had hundreds of phone calls over the years, but only a handful of video chatting sessions. Aside from a couple of photographs, I hadn’t even really seen his body. I sent him loads of pictures, but he was a more reserved sort of guy. I only had a foggy idea of what to expect from an actual meet-up. I guess it was a fear of ruining something I’d been building up in my mind for years. What if he’d been dishonest? I wouldn’t be able to continue our relationship if he had lied to me.

I hadn’t gone off to college. I worked a low paying retail job in the mall and still lived at home. My parents were furious I didn’t accept the wrestling scholarship I had been offered from our state school. Both of my older brothers had gone off to college and sometimes I regretted not going as well, at least to get away from my parents. But I knew deep down I wouldn’t have enjoyed it. I was never much for education.

Amos had finally convinced me to come and live with him. We’d been talking about an argument I’d had with my parents. They kept telling me I was “wasting my life” and that I “couldn’t live with them forever.” I was barely twenty-one, the candles on my birthday cake still smoking. I sure as hell didn’t want to live with them much longer. Amos listened as I complained, letting me know I’d be okay, and things would get better with my parents. “I just don’t wanna be here,” I’d said, not truly expecting him to provide me with a solution.

“Then come live with me,” he’d replied. “I’ll take care of you.”

And that was that.

He owned a home in a larger city, and he told me I was more than welcome to stay for as long as I liked. I knew it was crazy and I knew things could turn out terribly, but I also knew—deep down—that this was what I needed in my life to be happy. I knew that Amos would give me what I’d always wanted for myself.

I wanted to be big.

Amos would talk to me about how strong he could make me, about how big I’d get, about how I was going to be his devoted ex-jock. I would get hard just thinking about it and masturbate for hours. I still lifted hard, even after being out of high school for three years, but I wasn’t getting any size. My body was that of a wrestler and I still found it hard to eat a lot of food. I was barely 160 pounds on my 5’8” frame. I had ended high school at 145 pounds, so I was making progress, but it wasn’t enough.

A few days after that conversation with Amos, I sat my parents down and told them about how I was going to live with a buddy from high school, that a job training program opened up near his home, and that I’d try to visit during the holidays. It was late April at this point. My father told me it was the right thing to do as a man and gave me a hundred dollars to get started in the world. I loved my parents but being at home wasn’t going to make me happy.

The next thing I knew I was on a bus, the ride only about two hours. I had arranged everything with Amos, and he told me he’d be there to greet me. I was nervous. I kind of wanted to turn around and go back home, but at this point I had to follow through. I wasn’t going to flake out this time. I had to think positively and believe everything was going to work out.

My bus pulled into the terminal, and after grabbing my two duffel bags, I made my way to the waiting area. I thought about if he didn’t show. I would look like a complete idiot with nowhere to go. I couldn’t survive alone in the city with only my measly savings account and the hundred bucks from my mom and dad.

I knew what he looked like from his pictures and our handful of video chats, but it was still hard trying to find him in the crowd of people. “Russell,” I heard a voice call. I scanned the crowd again. “Hey there.” There he stood, in the flesh. Amos. I was more than excited. I felt like a little kid with a schoolyard crush. I dropped my bags and went in to hug him. He was tall and thinly muscled. Now this was living. “Well fuck,” he said. “You’re cute.”

I laughed, my face hot with embarrassment. I had to remember he was an older guy and that I had to act more maturely. “It’s, uh, really nice to finally meet you,” I said, trying my best to contain my enthusiasm.

“Likewise,” he said with a grin. He motioned towards the exit. “My car’s this way. Let’s go.” I grabbed my bags and followed behind him like a lost puppy. 

He was maybe about 6’3” and took long strides. I walked quickly to keep up. He wore a pair of stylish charcoal slacks and a white dress shirt. His ass looked great, very firm and round. I watched it shift as I walked along behind him. He looked younger than he actually was, definitely not like he was almost thirty.

I liked that he was taller than I was. I was the tallest one in my entire family, so it was a well embraced change of pace. I was a black guy, with skin the color of milk chocolate. Amos was sort of pale, but still looked healthy. He didn’t have any facial hair, but I had a slight beard.

I could already tell we were going to make a great pair.

We made it to his home, and it was not what I had imagined. It was actually much larger than I had anticipated. We walked up a few stone steps to his front door and he let me inside. It was very modern and spacious. “Your house is amazing,” I said. He laughed.

“Yeah, I do pretty all right for myself.” He took my bags from me and directed me to follow him. We walked down a hallway, stopping outside of a closed door. He told me to go on in and I obeyed. I entered a bedroom that was small, but nicer than the room I had at home. “This is your personal room, so feel free to arrange things however you like.” I had thought I would be staying with him in his bedroom, but I guess we weren’t much of a couple. “How about I show you the rest of the house?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” I said.

After that, he gave me the grand tour. He showed me the kitchen and told me I could eat anything I wanted, whenever I wanted. He added that he didn’t think I’d ever be that in need of a snack. I got hard thinking about him filling me with food, making sure I was never hungry. I wanted it so badly, and I was finally going to get it.

He continued with the tour, taking me through the back door. There was a pool in his yard and a tall fence that obscured his property from the neighbors. “You’ve even got a pool,” I said, majorly impressed.

“Perfect for skinny dipping,” he said. I laughed, getting even more erect. His whole aura was like an aphrodisiac. We went back into the house, where he showed me the master bathroom, which was ridiculously grandiose. The tub was huge. There was even a separate shower that had room for at least three people. 

“Come on,” he said. “This is somewhere you’ll really love.” I followed him down some stairs to the basement, which had the laundry room, but also a home gym. He had a substantial amount of equipment.

“This is amazing,” I told him. I walked over to a rack of weights, taking in their quality. Everything was in pristine condition.

“Hope you’re ready to use those,” he said with a wink. Amos was everything I had imagined and more. I was excited to get big for him. I wanted to make him happy. Having gotten to know him online for nearly three years made me all the more ready to get to know him in person. I wanted to do whatever he asked of me, to submit to whatever he asked, and to grow. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he said. I followed him back upstairs to the kitchen and he pulled out a large salad from the refrigerator. He placed it in front of me, along with three types of salad dressing. “I didn't know what type you liked,” he said. “I’m going to heat up this tray of lasagna I made, so you just eat that while you wait, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” I said, picking up the ranch dressing and a fork. He chuckled lightly. He busied himself reheating the lasagna and I greedily shoved the leafy greens into my mouth. He placed a basket of warm rolls next to me. He’d heated them up after getting the lasagna situated in the oven. I took one and bit into its soft, buttery goodness.

He poured me a glass of milk, which didn’t taste like 2%. It was kind of sweet. He sat across from me at the table. The lasagna had another fifteen minutes in the oven. “It’s really good so far,” I said through a mouthful of food. “I’m excited for the lasagna.”

“Well, you have to eat it all,” he said. “I’m looking to be impressed.” I swallowed more of the salad, feeling a little full already.

“All of it?” I inquired. He laughed. He was really attractive, and his laugh was no different. He was thin, but his body had an obvious muscularity. He had rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to reveal well-toned forearms. I was sure he used his home gym regularly. There was a treadmill down there and I didn’t think it was for me.

“I’m trying to be hospitable,” he said, smiling playfully. He was teasing me. “You wouldn’t want to offend me, would you?”

“N-no, of course not!”

“That’s what I thought.”

A little after that, he pulled the lasagna from the oven, allowing it to cool as I finished the salad, which had been in a large serving bowl. He cut a piece for himself and put it on a plate. He placed the rest of the dish in front of me. I wanted nothing more than to impress him, so I dove into the lasagna with gusto. I made it halfway through before I thought I was going to pass out.

He kept refilling my glass of milk, having finished his portion a while ago. He sat across from me at the table and watched me silently. “I-I don’t think I can finish it,” I said breathlessly.

“I think you can,” he said. “You don’t want to be rude, right?”

“Yeah, right. I-I guess—I’ll keep eating.” He had a quality that made me want to be better. I didn’t want to let him down. I made it through another ten forkfuls. He stood up and walked to my side of the table.

“You’re going to eat that,” he said, standing right behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck as he spoke. His voice was firm and authoritative, but also managed to be supportive. It was driving me wild and even though my stomach was in pain, I had an even more painful erection. “You know you want to get big. You’ve got to eat up if you want to get bigger.” 

He was right. I had to finish this. I leaned over the dish and began to shovel the rest of the pasta into my mouth, sauce covering my cheeks. This went on for a couple more minutes before I was finished.

Maybe it was the athlete in me, but I even took the last roll and cleaned the dish before downing the rest of my milk. I couldn’t believe I’d eaten like that. After all of that eating I was ready to sleep. He let me clean up and go to bed, and I was grateful for it.

The next morning, I made my way to the kitchen and found a dozen donuts waiting for me. There was an assortment of flavors, and I was enjoying being able to sample each one. I couldn’t believe I could eat again after last night, but I was actually hungry. I also helped myself to some more milk.

I found a note on the refrigerator that said the donuts were pre-breakfast. I wasn’t too sure what that meant, but I assumed Amos would have me eating something else soon. I was excited at the idea of eating so much. When I lived at home I tried to eat a lot, but I wasn’t able to eat as much as this—not nearly as much as this.

A little while later I heard someone enter through the front door. It was Amos and he had three bags of fast food. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he said with a smile as he walked into the kitchen. “This is for you—ah, good, you got the donuts.”

“They were really good, thanks,” I said. He smiled at me, and I felt my stomach flutter. It was a mixture of attraction to him and anticipation of what else he’d expect me to fit in there. I couldn’t believe how ordinary my life had been up until this point.

“Before you get started on breakfast, there are some things I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Yes, that’s fine, anything.”

“All right,” he said. He had me come into the living room and I sat on the sofa. “There are some things I need from you, things that’ll make me happy and hopefully you’ll like them too.”

“Okay,” I said. I was listening intently, but I was also thinking about what else he had gotten me for breakfast. I could smell the grease. I turned my attention back to Amos.

“When you’re in the house I want you to wear nothing but underwear, be it briefs or jockstraps. I want to be able to look at you.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said. He laughed. I really was okay with that. He was making me horny, and it was only because he was being so controlling. I knew that was something I was looking for, but damn, it was arousing in action.

“I need you to follow a workout schedule and I need you to eat everything I tell you too.” He paused for a moment, in what I was assuming was an attempt to choose the phrasing of his next statement. “You can only cum when I let you. No masturbating.” I nodded in agreement. That was going to be way more difficult than the underwear thing. “I also want to record your stats every month because, honestly, I think it’s really erotic.” I stood up and looked at him seriously. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and pulled off my pajama bottoms. I stood in a pair of white low-rise briefs. “Fuck kid, can you be any more adorable.”

After we discussed the guidelines he wanted me to follow, I ate my actual breakfast. I had six sausage biscuits and eight hash browns. I had a small plate full of ketchup next to me, which helped make things go down easier. I was dipping the hash browns and biscuits in a precise pattern, lubricating them with the sweet tomatoey goodness. I was eating so fast I didn’t notice I was getting full until I’d eaten around four of the sandwiches, but Amos made sure I finished them all. He also had me drink a fuck ton of his special milk as well.

“In the future, we’ll do this when your tank is empty,” Amos said, leading me back into the living room to take my stats. “I was just too excited to get you fed this morning.”

“I’m so full,” I said, rubbing the side of my bloated stomach.

He just smiled, knowing he was the reason I could barely catch my breath. He had me step on a scale, and I weighed in at 164 pounds. I stood in my underwear as he measured me, my stomach rounded out from all the food I had eaten. His touching me all over had my penis stiffening. “Somebody’s excited,” he said laughing.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I said with a toothy grin.

“Remember, we’ve got to hold off on that,” he reminded me, looking up from taking my measurements. “But don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.” He stood up and looked down at me. He observed me intently for a moment, his eyes a beautiful hazel color with intense flecks of green. His nose was thin, but large. It was complemented by his fleshy lips and strong jawline.

His hand found its way to my bulge. He grabbed onto it through my underwear. “Can I kiss you?” I asked. He smiled at me before leaning down to kiss me. I wanted to do so much more with him. I wanted to let him fill me up from behind just as much as he had been filling me up with food. I felt like I was ready to explode. He bit my lower lip softly and then slowly stopped kissing me.

“Well, let’s get you started with that workout.” He removed his hand from my crotch, and I heard myself whimper. I’d never made that sound before, but Amos had me whimpering. It excited me how badly I wanted him, how badly I wanted him to want me. I’d do whatever necessary to impress him, to make it impossible for him to resist the body he was going to build. I was going to be Amos’ monster. An absolute beast.

Fuck. My dick was already leaking as I made my way to my room to grab some socks and my gym shoes. We made our way to the basement, my dick still rock hard. He was also in his own workout gear. He explained to me that he’d be running and doing light weight training.

I was going to be doing more hardcore workouts and when things were too serious, he’d spot me. My boner lasted until about halfway through my workout, but once I really got into it, I barely remembered how horny I was. I had rarely ever pushed myself so hard. I couldn’t believe how sore I was after. It felt amazing and I was shocked that come lunch time I was famished. I felt ready to eat everything he had to throw at me.

Over those first two weeks I was falling hard for him. I was also incredibly excited for my upcoming monthly weigh-in. I had taken to getting up in the middle of the night to have a snack or two. I wanted him to be impressed with me, and I wanted results. I was finally realizing my dreams.

I could barely touch my penis without wanting to masturbate. I was very accustomed to freely jacking off whenever I felt the urge. When I was just messaging Amos online, I would find myself doing it two or three times a night. I found that while I was eating or lifting, the compulsion to masturbate was numbed. I wondered if Amos knew that’d happen.

My days consisted of pre-breakfast and then actual breakfast, a workout, lunch, another workout, dinner, and post-dinner. There were also my late-night snacks and whatever else I ate during the day. I was feeling so different and like a better version of myself. When my first weigh-in arrived, I was more than excited. I stood in a red jock that Amos had gotten me a little over a week ago. It cradled my junk in a way that made me more than aware that I hadn’t masturbated in a month.

He had me step onto the scale and I felt his eyes all over me. I knew Amos turned me on beyond belief, but it was nice in these moments to see that I made him just as horny. I wondered if he masturbated at all. “Shit, Russ, I thought you were looking big this month but not this big,” he said. “181 pounds.” I flexed my arms a little and he smiled.

“I did good, huh?” I asked, stepping off of the scale. He walked close to me and placed his warm hands on my waist. My stomach was no longer flat. I looked bloated at all times, but in actuality I was finally getting fatter. I felt stronger than ever, and the gainer shakes after my workouts were doing nothing but good things for my waistline.

“Your workouts are going well,” he said as his hands moved down my sides and towards my ass. “And I think I know where all that weight is going.” I felt my face heat up. “You must be doing extra squats to get this ass so big.” He grabbed my backside harder than I expected. I had been hard since I stepped on the scale, and I felt pre-cum spurt from the head of my dick.

He kissed me, and I felt my body relax in ecstasy. The smallest touches from Amos were enough to send me into a headspace that I had never experienced in my entire life. I longed to be close to him always. I still stayed in my own room, longing for the day he’d invite me into his own bed. Amos pulled away slowly. “Don’t stop,” I pleaded.

“You deserve something special,” he said. His face was as red as I’d ever seen it. Was he finally going to give me what I’d been dreaming of? I was still a virgin, only ever been fingered by some boy just as sexually immature as I was. We had both been on the wrestling team in high school. Last I heard, he was dating some girl he met at the community college in my parents' town. Amos walked towards the kitchen, and I took that as an indication to follow him. “Eat this.” He had brought out a beautiful pink box. It looked like it was from some super fancy bakery.

“I’ll eat it,” I said seriously. I opened the box and inside were six large cupcakes of varying flavors. He knew I loved a variety. I picked up one as we stood in the middle of the kitchen. I looked at him as I bit into the sweet treat.

“That’s chocolate vanilla swirl,” he said with a smirk. I laughed as I licked icing from my lips. It was a really delicious cupcake. He got on his knees as I was finishing the chocolate vanilla swirl cupcake.

“What—what’re you doing?” I asked.

“If you can talk right now, you should be eating,” he said. He pulled the jock to the ground and my dick bobbed freely for a moment. I started on the next cupcake. It had a lot of little red sprinkles. It was kind of spicy and very chocolaty. I shoved the rest of the treat into my open mouth, and he wrapped his lips around the head of my penis. I immediately felt pre-cum spurt into his mouth. I wasn’t going to last long. I started eating the rest of the cupcakes like a mad man. When I thought about the food, I wasn’t completely focused on the best blowjob of my existence. I didn’t want to cum too quickly.

Amos stopped sucking me off and began to lightly kiss my gut. I took another oversized bite of a cupcake, this one lemon flavored. I focused on the citrus, finishing it in another large bite. I felt so greedy eating like this and that was turning me on even more. I reached for the next one—red velvet. I looked down, and Amos looked up at me, his eyes unlike I’d seen them ever before. He loved this. He loved what he was doing to my body. He watched as I shoved a majority of the red velvet cupcake into my mouth. He moved his hand to my ass, squeezing one of my plump cheeks.

“Finish ‘em off, Russ,” Amos directed before bringing his mouth back towards my dick. He licked my shaft slowly, popping the head back in his mouth. I had to grab the next one, to prevent a premature eruption—s’mores. Graham cracker and marshmallow flooded my taste buds.

I hastily reached for the last cupcake. I bit into it, surprised by a substantial amount of banana pudding that was on the inside. This was a banana cream pie cupcake. I got some of the pudding on my fingers and I licked them quickly, swallowing the remaining morsels of the baked good. My moist hand found the side of my gut and I rubbed it gently. This was the biggest I’d ever been, but also the smallest I’d ever be again.

“I ate them all, sir,” I said breathlessly. He slowed, pulling his mouth away for a moment to take me in.

Without the eating to distract me, I felt it happening before I could angle my path of ejaculation away from him. I moaned loudly, my toes curling, as I shot my load in Amos’ direction. Some hit him on the chin and the rest covered the front of his lavender dress shirt. I felt it coming out of me for what felt like a whole minute. “I’m so sorry. It—it was an accident,” I said all flustered. He stood up and began to unbutton his shirt. He stood shirtless in front of me, and I was immediately turned on again. Amos had a well-defined body, which was long and slightly hairy. His hair looked well-groomed, and I wanted to touch his chest and the hair on his stomach. His stomach reminded me of my wrestling days, when I actually had abs.

“Somebody got a little excited.” He laughed softly, and I felt myself smile. He wasn’t mad at me.

I couldn’t believe it, but I was suddenly very, very hungry.

That weigh-in was in May and we were now halfway through the month of June. The weather had gotten really hot, but I spent most of my time in the house. I only ever went outside to swim around in the pool. We hadn’t gone out in public, but I wasn’t too concerned. I was focusing on eating and lifting. I was feeling really big, the largest I had ever been in my life. My capacity had increased, and I was going through gainer shakes like there was no tomorrow. I probably had at least four or five every day.

Amos had taken a lot of time off to stay with me that first month and a half, but now he was working a lot more. He was a realtor and sold luxury homes. He had things delivered for me to eat around lunch time. I had eaten a lot of pizza and pastas. He’d bring me desserts in the pink boxes every other evening. He was a really sweet guy.

“Russell,” he started. “I want you to go out more. You don’t have to stay in the house all day.” I had always assumed that was what I was supposed to do.

“Oh—that’s cool,” I said. “But what would I do?”

“Go out to eat,” he said with a smirk. “I actually ordered you some summer clothes.” I had no clue he had done that. “But you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want to.” Why would I not want to wear them? He went to retrieve them from his bedroom. There were a lot of shorts and tanks. There was also a pair of sweats that looked like they were made out of the material of a wrestling singlet. I was wearing a jockstrap, so I could easily put on an outfit.

I grabbed a pair of navy shorts and pulled them on. They were really tight. I would normally be much too bashful to wear something like this in public. My thighs looked huge in the shorts. I got them up over my ass, which was actually getting much bigger. Amos was right about me doing a lot of squats, but it was only because I knew he liked my butt. I could feel that the crack of my ass was not fully covered. I pulled on a tank top, which was white with thin blue horizontal stripes. For the first time in my life, I truly felt big. My bulge was a little obscene, but I was fully covered.

“Do you, uh like, this kind of outfit?” Amos asked, clearing his throat. “I could always get you something else—less revealing.”

“Do I look good in this?” I asked.

“Of course you do!” he exclaimed, his face reddening. I walked closer to him, feeling the most monstrous I’d ever felt, and wrapped my arms around him. He placed one of his hands on my head, the other on my ass. We stood that way for a long time. It was really nice, feeling his body against mine. “Let’s go out. Get your shoes on.”

I went to my room and put on socks and sneakers. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror on the door of my bedroom and stopped for a moment. I was becoming what I had always wanted. I flexed my arms for myself before my hands found their way to my gut. It was nice having so much size.

I turned to the side and saw how it stood out from my body. I was getting myself worked up. I lifted my tank up and saw how beefy my gut was. It made me want to eat. My pecs were large, but all the lifting I did couldn’t stop fat from accumulating there as well. My ass was always huge, and it had gotten a great deal beefier in the past two months. I finished up with my self-appraisal and went to meet Amos.

We drove in his car and ended up at a public park. I hadn’t been in a large crowd in some time, and it made me a little anxious. I suddenly didn’t feel that big, and I even felt naked in my outfit. I wanted really badly to grab his hand, but I fought the urge.

There were booths and food trucks lined up and down the sidewalk offering a variety of different foods. It was barely six o’clock. He patted me on the stomach and smiled. “I’ve got cash,” he said. “Let’s try lots of stuff.”

We walked from booth to booth getting different foods. He’d buy a large sample and nibble off of it before allowing me to demolish the rest. I was his human garbage disposal. We had Greek food and Mexican. I tried something called a pierogi and had a plateful of BBQ. There was a booth full of soul food that reminded me of home, and I had a great deal of that.

He was really fun to be around. He liked to people watch and would make really funny comments. There was this guy who was on roller blades in a Statue of Liberty costume that we watched for a while. “I bet he just has a blast,” Amos said with a chuckle. “Not a care in the world. Living for liberty and freedom, skating through the park annoying soccer moms and joggers alike.”

“He’s serving his country,” I added. “A true American hero.” He laughed for a while at that one, and it made me feel good. After that we went to get ice cream. I was already painfully full but pushing past that point made me feel good. On our way to the ice cream stall, I rubbed my belly mindlessly. A woman looked at me a little disgustedly and then away quickly. I felt my face heat up with embarrassment. “She must be so jealous of me. I’m with the hottest guy in the whole park.”

“Ha, yeah,” I replied, feeling a little weird.

“Let’s get that ice cream,” he said gently. He ordered me a huge cone and it was actually pretty tasty. His was different than mine and he offered to let me taste his as well. He held the ice cream up to my face and I took a lick. I could see he was turned on and so I ate a little more. I had already finished mine, being the fat boy that I was. Before he knew what was up, I had almost completely slurped down most of his dessert. “Do—do you want the rest?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said as I took the cone from him. I finished it quickly.

“Man,” he started. “I feel so indecent getting a boner in a public park.” Amos rarely talked like this, and it was getting me going. We walked slowly next to one another. He leaned closer into me before he spoke again. “And watching that huge bubble butt of yours shifting back and forth in those little shorts makes me want to lick you all over.”

I was getting an erection, and in these shorts that would be a problem. I tried hard to stay calm, but I was semi-erect. “Amos, don’t say that. I–I get too excited.”

“I know how you get,” he said. “You’re horny all the time and the fact you’re making so much progress turns you on even more, doesn’t it?” He grabbed a handful of my ass, and my penis was no longer just semi-erect. I wanted him to fuck me. “You’re becoming this big strong bull, but you know I’m still the one taking care of you.” I once again whimpered like a dog, a sound I found myself making much more frequently. I was feeling so submissive, and I wanted Amos to dominate me.

“Amos, I–I like that you take care of me.” He removed his hand from my butt.

“I do a good job, don’t I?” he asked. “And I always will, because you’re mine.” I nodded quickly. A man who had been walking near us cleared his throat theatrically. We ignored him and made our way back to Amos’ car. On the way home he bought me two double cheeseburgers, a large fry, and a milkshake.

I ate everything. 

Sometime in July I asked him what I could do that’d turn him on even more. He was pretty bashful about telling me at first, but I pulled it out of him. He was a fan of men that were intimidating but he could still be dominant over. So, I ended up getting some piercings and he wondered if I’d get my hair cut a certain way.

It all happened in one day, and at first, I was a little nervous. I got my nipples pierced first, and then my ears. I also got a mohawk fade. My beard had gotten much thicker as well. I was really digging the new me.

I’d be the first one to admit that I did look a great deal more intimidating. He couldn’t wait for the nipple piercings to heal. I had the feeling Amos was getting more and more amped up to actually fuck me.

By August I weighed over 200 pounds for the first time in my life. Amos was more than happy when the scale told him I was 219 pounds. I had taken to eating even more than ever before and Amos could barely believe it. I felt unstoppable. I was a beast. His beast.

“My family wants to meet you,” Amos said dryly one afternoon in mid-August. I never really considered the fact that Amos could even have a family. He seemed so independent that I imagined he was one day put on the earth as an adult. “They want me to host the Labor Day party this year, because of the pool.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’d be too nervous.” I drank from a shake made from protein powder, ice cream, and whole milk. “What if they don’t like me?”

“You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever met. I doubt they’d dislike you.”

“But—but, what about how—”

“How you look?” he asked. I nodded. “You look fucking spectacular. I’m not ashamed of you in any way. I actually want to show you off every chance I get, so everyone knows I’m with such a stud.”

“It’s your family, Amos. They’re more important than some strangers on the street.”

“Let me be perfectly clear,” he started, sounding even more serious than before. It’s like he had some sort of power in which he could make his voice soothing yet commanding. “I live my life for myself. You and me, we’re a package deal. They’ll treat you with respect or they can leave. Simple as that. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” I replied, the front of my jock bulging as my dick hardened. I was nervous and excited at the same time. Amos saw me as something other than some guy he was fooling around with. He respected me enough to introduce me to his family as his boyfriend. “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“Good boy,” he said, patting me on the tummy. “I guess we’ve got a party to plan.”

Leading up to Labor Day we found lots of fun things for the party. It wouldn’t be a lot of people, but Amos planned an incredibly large menu. He described all the things that would be prepared and how much he expected me to eat.

We went to shop for swimsuits, and even though I already had one or normally swam naked, he insisted I get another one. I ended up getting a lime green pair of classic cut trunks. I felt like they would be too revealing for a family function, but he told me they were perfectly fine.

My ass was large and firm, and even with the XL swimwear I was not fully covered. It was the curse of having such a large lower body. I felt like my bulge was a little much, but I did feel really attractive. My pecs rounded out into large mounds of muscle and fat. My gut was usually always full of food as I took my job as his greedy man-beast very seriously. That morning was the start of September and at my weigh-in I had made it to nearly 230 pounds. I hardly recognized myself anymore, but I wanted more. I wanted to be bigger, stronger, and fatter—to be the ideal man of Amos, as well as myself.

We bought my suit as well as a very nice pair of orange trunks for Amos that went halfway up his muscular thighs. We made our way home to have dinner, and with the events of the day I wanted to outgrow my new swimsuit.

The night before his family would be coming over, he presented to me a chain collar and a lock. “It’s waterproof,” he said with a shy smile and red cheeks. “If you’d be willing, I’d like for you to wear this.”

I took it from him and draped it around my neck. The chain was thick and slightly cold. It felt heavy, but I liked the weight of it. I clicked it in place and grabbed the lock for a moment. He was turning me into a total badass. “I feel extra cool,” I said.

“I have the key,” he said. He pulled a much thinner chain from under his dress shirt, and I saw that on the end of it was a small key to the lock around my neck. “You’re mine, you badass.” We smiled at one another and then I had two thick gainer shakes.

I had to look my best for the party.

The next day he woke up early to fire up the grill. He would be making chicken wings, brats, burgers, and ribs. I was busy in the kitchen slicing fruit and making other side dishes. He wanted me to make macaroni and cheese when I told him how much butter and cheese my mother’s recipe required. “Oh, you need some of that,” he said. “I should get you to eat some of that every week. Then you’d really get some meat on those bones.”

His family would arrive at about noon. I was nervous, sure, but also kind of excited. Amos was an incredible guy, so his family had to be a good one. I wore my lime green trunks and a yellow tank. I was very vibrant.

Everything was ready at around eleven-thirty. We busied ourselves setting things up and his family arrived right on time. That seemed like a quality all of the Stanton’s possessed. His parents, Freddie and Kathy, were very nice, and tall. His mom was a little taller than I was and Freddie had to be at least 6’4” because he was taller than Amos. Amos had two younger brothers as well. The middle brother looked just like Amos and had a wife of his own. His name was Harris, and the youngest brother was named Bud. He was only two years younger than I was.

“Amos, so good to see you,” said Julia, the wife of Harris. “And it’s nice to meet you too, Russell.” I was surprised she already knew my name. I returned the sentiment before Amos interjected.

“The food is ready so let’s eat while it’s hot.” We all shuffled out to the patio and sat. The conversation was good, but Bud didn’t talk much. He seemed distant, but I took it as how I had been when I was still at home.

I ate a brat in three bites and before I could finish chewing another found its way to my plate. I had mac and cheese piled high on my plate along with other sides. Everyone had finished eating yet I was going strong. The conversations continued and things were going great.

Sitting in the patio chair and shoveling food into my mouth I felt the tank straining against my gut. I could even feel my gut on my lap. I loved how I felt. I loved that I was the biggest guy at the party. When everyone else was preoccupied Amos gave me a pat on the stomach.

“I think they really like you,” he said quietly. His hand rubbed my belly slowly. “But I wish they’d fucking leave so I could feed my boyfriend in peace.” I was semi-erect and tried to reign it in.

I thought about how when I was eating, I wasn’t as horny. “I’m gonna get the ice cream sandwiches,” I said. “Maybe your family will want some.” I made my way into the kitchen when I noticed Bud and Kathy talking on the sofa. They hadn’t noticed me entering.

“Mom, he’s like some beast,” Bud said. “Like, he wears chains and stuff. Who does that?”

“He’s only two years older than you, Bud,” she replied. “He also seems really sweet.”

“He’s only twenty-one? How?” Bud questioned in awe. “He could probably break Amos in half if he wanted. I bet they’re into some freaky shit.”

“Oh, stop it, Bud. Don’t swear and don’t talk about your brother and his boyfriend having sex.” I was slightly taken aback. I hadn’t considered the idea that Bud was so quiet because he didn’t care for me. I cleared my throat loudly and offered them some ice cream sandwiches.

They both looked surprised to see me and Mrs. Stanton was noticeably embarrassed.

“No,” Bud said quickly, surprisingly more flustered than his mom. “That’s okay.” I began to retreat back to the patio before he stopped me.

“All right,” I said, box of ice cream sandwiches in hand.

“Actually, wait,” Bud called, standing.

“What’s up?” I asked. He’d made his way over to me and he stood looking down at me slightly. Amos really came from a family of giants. He studied me closely and—I might have been sorely mistaken—but I felt like he was looking at me like how I normally looked at Amos. He admired me in some regard, and it was actually really cool.

“I’ll take two of those if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, Bud,” I said. “You gotta eat big to get big.”

After that, Bud stuck to me like glue. He asked me about my diet and my workout regimen. I wasn’t as bold as Amos, so I gave him a heavily edited version of my routine. We all swam around and chatted. If I had to make a complaint, my swimsuit rode up a lot. Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but I didn’t think the entire Stanton clan wanted a glimpse of my beefy glutes in too little swim trunks.

It was a good time, and I was glad Amos allowed me to become such an intimate part of his life. I had even more fun after they all left. Amos told me he didn’t want to see any leftovers.

There weren’t any.

My life with Amos only continued to improve as time went on. I hadn’t made it home for the holidays like I initially told my family I would. I missed Christmas, New Years, and Easter. If I were to be honest with myself, I didn’t really want to see my family. I didn’t know how they’d react to my lifestyle changes.

“We’re worried about you,” my mother said to me over the phone in late April. It had been about a year since I had come to live with Amos.

“We talk every month,” I said, knowing where this conversation was going. “I just haven’t found a good time to come see you guys.”

“Well, Bobby is graduating next month, and I expect you to come home to celebrate your brother earning his master’s.” Robert, who everyone called Bobby, was my middle brother. Terry was the oldest, and he had graduated from college five years ago. I loved my brothers, and I didn’t want Bobby to think I didn’t care about how hard he had been working.

“Mom, I—I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it. I’ll check my schedule.” This whole situation was making me anxious.

“Is it money, Russell?” she asked. “It’s okay if you need to move back home. It’s okay.”

“No, mom—it’s got nothing to do with money.” I was over a hundred pounds bigger than when they last saw me. I didn’t want to hear what they had to say about my health or what I was doing to myself. 

“Maybe I need to send your father out there—” she started before I cut her off.

“Just text me the details. I’ll be there.”

“Everybody is going to be so excited,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “You must be starving out there working so hard. This is going to be the biggest celebration this family has seen in a while. I’ll make sure I’ve got all your favorite foods, baby. I’ll text you, okay?”

“Okay, Mom. Talk to you later,” I said. She told me she loved me, and I returned the sentiment before hanging up the phone. I placed my hand on my stomach, feeling its bulk. I felt massive and tiny at the same time. I wished Amos was here, but he was working. He wouldn’t be home for a couple of hours.

At my April weigh-in I was just over 300 pounds. After seeing that number on the scale both Amos and I sat astounded. I had nearly doubled my initial weight in a year. He sucked me off twice after that. We still hadn’t had anal sex yet, but I had the feeling it would be happening soon.

Amos was a very by the book kind of guy. He had brought me products to prep myself for anal, so things wouldn’t be a mess when we did actually have sex for the first time. I hoped I could satisfy him in that way. I wanted to be what he wanted. Especially after he invested so much into me.

I ate my lunch and did my workout. I had become so accustomed to my daily routine that I had a lot of free time. I’d go out and about occasionally, and I noticed people would watch me a little more than they used to. I wondered if my family would actually say anything, or just stare at me like the people on the street did.

Looking at myself in a mirror after my workout I took in my body as I did every day. My shoulders were broad, meeting in the middle at my thick neck. Amos said that my face had gotten fat. He said that my head and neck had become a singular entity, and that without my beard it would be hard to distinguish the two.

Amos said that the cheeks on my face rivaled the cheeks on my backside. “When you smile,” he had said. “You can barely see your eyes.” It was true. I had always gotten squinty when I smiled, but with the extra weight I carried it was even more extreme.

My body impressed Amos in a multitude of ways, and he had things to say about all of me. The way my tits sagged, though still firm with muscle. How my butt had ruined nearly every pair of pants he bought me. The immense size of my thighs and calves. He even had things to say about how thick my hands and feet had gotten. I was getting hard thinking about Amos, about how he’d grab me.

He got in around five, pink bakery box in tow. “Russ, I’m home,” he called as he entered the kitchen. I made my way to where he stood. I was in a purple jock, my body on full display for him.

“Welcome home,” I said, walking close to him, ready to receive affection. He wrapped me in his arms, and I felt everything I had been worried about fall to the wayside, if only for a moment.

“How’s my big guy today?” he asked, kissing the top of my head.

“Not good,” I said, dreading having to talk about my intended trip home. “I talked to my mom today. I have to go home for my brother’s graduation.”

“I know how nervous dealing with your family makes you,” he said, letting go of me and looking down at me. He smiled softly, trying his best to calm my nerves. “You had to see your family at some point. Don’t let it overwhelm you.”

“But—but what if they’re mad, or they want me to move back home?” I hated when I acted this way. I felt whiny, burdensome.

“You plan on leaving me?” he asked.

“No, sir,” I answered. “I never want to leave you.”

“Then they’ll just have to accept how much you’ve grown and the life you’ve set up for yourself.” I nodded. He was right. He always was. “Do you want me to go with you?”

I felt my face light up. I didn’t want to burden him with having to meet my family, not yet anyway. They’d be all over him, probably upset about my weight, not working, and being gay. “You would come with me, Amos?”

“Let me know the dates and I’ll take off from work.” I hugged him immediately, squeezing him much harder than I realized. He groaned loudly and I removed my arms from around him. He laughed, calming me even more. “You’ve got to be careful. You know you can break me in half.”

The next month Amos and I drove the two hours to my hometown. The entire ride he had me eating snacks. And I do mean the entire ride. Chips, trail mix, snack cakes, soda, sandwiches. When we pulled up outside of my parents’ place, I was next level bloated.

The first of the month was last week, and my weigh-in was somewhat disappointing. Maybe it was the stress of the visit, but I hadn’t been going as hard as I’d been the last couple of months. I couldn’t bring myself to eat my late-night snacks and I was barely getting through one gainer shake a day.

Amos didn’t say anything, but his lack of enthusiasm was like a dagger through the heart. I’d been working so hard, and I’d nearly doubled my starting weight in a year, but it didn’t feel like enough. I feared that if I continued to disappoint him, he’d look for someone who could better live up to his expectations.

“Do you want to grab the bags now or later?” Amos asked.

“We can come back for them later.” I wanted to make sure any potential escape was as swift as possible. There was no need to bring luggage into the house when we’d probably be leaving soon anyway.

We walked up the driveway to the front door, Amos behind me. My hands and feet were numb with cold, even though it was a sunny Friday afternoon in May. I was in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that probably shouldn’t have been so tight. You could see the outline of my belly button and my pierced nipples.

I stood frozen, staring at the doorbell. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t help feeling like some sort of freak, a disappointment. They wouldn’t accept me like this, and it felt ridiculous to welcome their disapproval. We shouldn’t have come all this way for something that could have been avoided. Maybe that was foolish of me, thinking I’d never have to see my family again, but it was better than this.

“Ring the bell,” Amos said softly. “Whatever happens, you know that you’ve got me. I promise.”

“Okay,” I replied, ringing the bell quickly before I chickened out. There was some slight shuffling, and then the door opened suddenly.

It was both of my parents, which wasn’t a normal occurrence. I think they both came to the door because they were expecting me. We hadn’t seen each other for over a year at this point. They were absolutely silent for much longer than could be considered normal.

“Uh, hey Mom. Hey Dad.”

My mother laughed awkwardly, turning towards my dad to exchange a glance before turning back to me. She looked behind me at Amos before she finally spoke.

“Well,” she said, laughing again. “Look at you.”

“Damn boy,” my dad added. “Your mom thought you were out there starving. You ain’t missed a meal since you left here.” Amos chuckled behind me. Of course he’d think that was funny. He was the reason I hadn’t missed any meals.

“Come in, boys,” my mom said. “Wait, where are your bags? Don’t tell me you aren’t staying.”

“They’re in the car,” I said, the warmth returning to my hands and feet. I was sure they’d have a lot of questions, and they’d probably talk about this for an hour as they laid next to each other before bed tonight, but they weren’t pushing me away. “I’ll grab them.”

I turned, so I could walk back down the driveway. “Damn, he got more ass than you,” my dad commented, patting my mom on the behind. Like my t-shirt, the sweats I wore outlined every curve of my body. The cheeks were slightly separated by the fabric, highlighting the heft of each. I looked up at Amos, who was smirking slightly. He really was enjoying my discomfort in this situation, the embarrassing comments from my father, the nervous glances from my mother. He was a bit of a sadist, and as weird as this whole situation was, I was kind of enjoying it too.

After bringing the bags into the foyer, it was obvious there were a bunch of other people in the house. I shouldn’t have been surprised. My mother loved celebrations, and this was my homecoming and my brother’s graduation. What better reasons to invite people over and throw a party?

Scattered throughout the living room were a bunch of my relatives. I saw my oldest brother Terry and his wife. She held their two-year old in her arms and was sporting a sizable baby bump. Bobby was wearing a sash that said “graduate” on it in gold lettering. His girlfriend was here too. I also noticed both sets of grandparents, some uncles, a few aunts, a plethora of cousins. They all looked at me like they’d spotted Bigfoot.

“Shit bro!” Bobby exclaimed. “You look like you ate your old self.” There was some laughter and nervous murmurs. I knew this was a make-or-break weekend. It was my reintroduction to my family, and I had to lay some things out on the table. In particular, I had to introduce Amos. I’m sure everyone was curious about the tall white guy who was towering over us all.

“It’s good to see everyone,” I started. “City life has been treating me well. This guy here is named Amos, and he and I are—we’re—uh, seeing each other.”

Nobody really said anything until my nephew, still in his mother’s arms, waved in our direction and said in his little voice, “Hi Amiss. I’m John.”

Amos returned the wave. “Nice to meet you, John.”

After that, some of my relatives came up to us and we talked for a few minutes. I excused the both of us and we made our way to my bedroom upstairs. We needed to set the bags down and have a moment to ourselves. I wondered what Amos would have to say about everything that happened.

I felt my body relax once the door was closed. After rummaging through his backpack, Amos just stood there, a satisfied smile on his face. He wore a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved collared shirt. He looked good even in casual clothing. His torso was long and lean, and the sleeves of the shirt hugged his arms seductively.

“Russ,” he said in a low voice. “This might not be appropriate timing, but I need to fuck you.”

“What?” He couldn’t be serious. Twenty of my family members were a floor below us, and this was the time he felt prepared to fuck me? He made his way closer to me, reaching out to squeeze one of my nipples through the fabric of my t-shirt. Ever since the piercings healed a few months ago, they’d become an extra-sensitive source of arousal. I was already getting hard, and he’d barely touched me. “Amos, we can’t,” I whined.

“You don’t want this?” he asked. 

“I mean—Amos,” I said, trying to make a sensible decision. But his free hand found its way to my crotch, rubbing my dick gently through the fabric as he continued to work my nipple with his other hand. I closed my eyes, tilting my head back a bit.

“They all couldn’t believe their eyes,” Amos whispered, his voice clear and dripping with lust. Him wanting me so badly was making me feel valuable again. I wanted this more than anything, to be what he wanted. “Your dad doesn’t mince words, does he? ‘Damn, boy. You’ve got more ass than your momma.’”

He turned me around and we stood looking at our reflection in the mirror above the dresser in my room. He didn’t need to say anything. He simply needed to explore my body with his hands to let me know what he was thinking. The way his hands sat under my chest, holding each fatty pec in his strong hands, squeezing them, jiggling them. My nipples were as hard as my dick at this point, and I had no intention of stopping Amos anymore. Not like I ever really would’ve in the first place. He had the control. He always had, even when I thought I was making a choice, Amos was pulling the strings.

His hands caressed my stomach, cupping the bottom of my gut and holding the weight of it up before letting it drop. It was solid from the two hours of snacking, but it was usually firm. He squeezed it again and again in different sections, inspecting every piece of fat he’d managed to pack on my body.

He moved one hand away from my belly, and I could hear the buckle of his belt being undone. Then I felt his hardness pressing into my back, warm and incredibly stiff. I saw him slip a condom and a tiny bottle of lube from the front pocket of his jeans. He set them on the dresser before shimmying out of his pants. I could hear the buckle of his belt hit the floor so I knew his pants must have been around his ankles. He positioned his fingers in the waistband of my sweats and tugged gently, still pressing against me. I watched him closely in the mirror as he worked, my heart nearly beating out of my chest. I had wanted this since the day we met, and it was really going to happen. He tried pulling the sweats down, but the fabric got stuck around my thighs. I wiggled a little, causing the sweatpants to drop lower and allowing me to spread my legs a little bit further apart.

He placed his hands on my hips and I leaned forward, resting my palms on the top of the dresser. He gave my ass a smack and I could feel the sting of his palm resonate throughout my entire body. “Oh god,” I breathed.

“To think you’ve gotten this big in a year,” he said. “It only makes me wonder how much bigger I can make you.”

“You want me to get bigger?” I asked, losing myself in the foreplay.

“I know you’re not that tall, but you could get to at least 400 pounds and get around fine.”

“425,” I countered.

“450.”

He reached for the bottle of lube and opened it effortlessly. He squeezed some of the liquid onto his fingers and his dick, coating his member completely before spreading my cheeks to have access to my asshole. Slowly, he touched me with one finger, sliding it in gently. He worked my hole with the one finger for a few moments before sliding in another. His breathing was deep and intense, his face serious.

“I’ve got to put it in, Russ,” he said, looking at my face in the mirror. “Is that okay?”

I just nodded. He held one cheek in his hand, his dick in the other. He guided himself inside of me, the tip entering me gently. He stayed that way for a moment, not moving a muscle. I knew it was so he wouldn’t hurt me, but I felt perfectly fine. I needed more. I needed all of him inside of me. I pushed my ass against his front, taking in a majority of his dick in the process.

“Aw, fuck,” he muttered as I pounded my ass against his thighs. He gave my ass a loud slap. I was salivating. I could feel the pools of spit in my mouth, and I swallowed so as not to make a mess. Every time Amos let me ejaculate this past year, some sort of dessert was involved. I couldn’t help but crave some sort of sweet treat. What I wouldn’t give for a donut or one of those banana cream pie cupcakes. I pulled forward and pushed back again and again, his dick hitting what I could only assume to be my prostate. I was in a simple black jock, my dick barely cradled in the front cup, leaking pre-cum profusely. “Whoa, Russ. You don’t have to rush.”

“It feels so good, Amos,” I moaned. “I love your dick.” He just smirked, allowing me to continue my back-and-forth motion. We were at it for nearly ten minutes when Amos came. My dick was dribbling so much, when I went to reposition it, cum shot all over the mirror and dresser.

“Damn Russ.”

“Amos, I’m hungry.”

We got cleaned up after that and headed back downstairs. I was utterly dickmatized. Whatever my family talked to me about went in one ear and out the other. I just wanted to eat and get fucked again, but one of those things was too risky to attempt a second time, so I simply stuffed my face. Bobby walked up to me as I licked some chicken grease off my fingers. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“What?” I asked. I was closer to Bobby than my oldest brother, so I really was worried about what he had to say about this whole situation.

“You’re not really the little brother around here anymore, are you?”

“I guess not,” I answered, laughing aloud. Leave it to him to make a joke. I appreciated it.

“You and the white dude—Amos,” he clarified, to show respect, “are into some freaky shit. You know we could kind of hear y’all thumping around up there, right?”

“Aw, well, that’s my bad, not his.” I did kind of take over up there. Hopefully they just heard the thumping and not anything we were saying.

“And I’m not judging,” he added, throwing up his hands. “You seem happier like this. He’s got to have something to do with that, yeah?”

Looking over at Amos, who was talking to Terry and his wife, I couldn’t help but notice that he fit in perfectly, even in a house full of people who were very different than he was. He did take care of me and make me feel valued. Reflecting on how long it took for us to actually meet up, I could kick myself for thinking that Amos could be anything less than amazing. He was my home now, my family. In one incredible year, my life would forever be changed for the better. And hey, maybe Amos would really get me to 450 pounds (but seriously, that probably was less of sex-talk and more of a promise. Amos was always a man of his word).

“Yeah,” I said, “I feel like when I’m with him, it’s where I belong.”

The End!

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey Part 6 - Snake and the Cow

Nobody wanted to leave this congregation of creatures. Everyone was having the time of their life in an environment of pure acceptance. There was so much exchanging of phone numbers. But this was just a patchwork fix to keep these bonds close-knit. Everyone wanted a more concrete solution to solidifying this group of wayward animals. Luckily, the blue-scaled Lamia who had organized this get-together had a great idea: To keep in touch easily, she would create a Chaos server for us all to cavort in. We gave her our emails and she would reach out to us when it was created.

A week had passed since then and my thoughts kept drifting to that day. My body was still accepting the hormones but there was little progress that had been made in a single week’s time. My snout was growing but not fully there, though you could tell I had a cute pink stamp forming at the end. My ears were tapering but still very much humanoid. My horns were disappointingly small… My fingernails were completely black now and had grown thick. But, the one thing that surprised me was how fast my feet were changing! To the point I wasn't even comfortable calling them feet anymore! My toes were fusing together along with my nails into a hard, black hoof. Not fully formed but enough that I was walking on what appeared to be “tippy toes” to everyone else. I was so happy seeing these changes every day!

But I was lonely… My husband was still on a business trip across the country. We would message each other when we could, but it was little compensation for the lack of his presence. It did not fill the need I had to talk to people on the same road as me… I was too shy to exchange numbers with anyone at the support group, so the eventual server was my lifeline to keeping in touch with the numerous animals I had met. Before bed I received an email that, considering the name “BlueSerpentVibes”, I had a guess as to who it could have been. Within the message was a simple hyperlink that said “Invite” that I clicked, as it opened my Chaos application on my desktop. Yet as excited as I had been to finally talk with all of the critters, I just didn’t have the mental bandwidth that night. It was too anxiety inducing seeing the deluge of messages in the “Introductions” tab and the many messages that were quickly filling up the “General” tab. So, I went to sleep, feeling a little guilty at myself that I didn’t stay up to introduce myself. But soon my thoughts drifted away into the realm of sleep. 

And so roughly 6 hours later I awoke to a *ping* and 7 friend requests. I eagerly accepted them all, staring and admiring the growing collection of people who were happy to actually continue talking to me. I wasn’t used to that. The server itself was still moving at such a speed I could barely understand who was talking. It seemed like everyone already knew each other... But I wanted to atleast make myself known to the server at large; that I had joined and was eager to talk to people, even if the chat itself was moving too fast for me to be comfortable in. I wrote something short, with a hastily taken selfie, and posted it in Introductions:

“Hi, I’m Josie! My pronouns are she/her. I’m taking CowHRT! I’m so excited to talk to everyone here, I had a great time at the support group. Feel free to DM me!”

Then I waited. But it wasn’t long before I had someone sending me a message. 

Gio-“Boop! : D 

Sooooooo”

Uh, wow okay. That was quick. Didn’t really know what to say except to follow suit, I guess:

Josie-“Sooooo”

Gio-“You were the short haired cow in the support group right?”

Someone actually remembered me! That was a surprise. I didn’t really know how to proceed apart from small talk, but that’s how all friendships start I suppose.

Josie-“Uh yeah, that was me. Although maybe you’re thinking of the other cow that was there?”

Gio-“Oh nah you look completely different. I mean, both cows, but I recognize ya from your selfie. So, how’ve you been?”

Josie-“Well good, I guess. Been looking forward to catching up with the people I met then. Although I’m sorry… Your profile picture’s just of a mountain. Could you remind me who you were there?”

Gio-”Oh, I had green hair and scales :D I was hanging around the goat for a while before we mingled some.” 

Josie-”Oh the king cobra guy!”

Gio-”...king cobra guy? Don’t remember the name huh.”

Josie-”Uhm, sorry…”

Gio-”It’s okay. The person you were talking to was Scalin.”

Josie-”Okies, hi Scalin!”

Gio-”No you’re talking to Gio right now.”

Josie-”Uh, okay sorry. Are you using their account or…?”

Gio-”Oh no this is our Chaos account. But you’re talking to Gio right now, not Scalin. Scalin’s in the back. My pronouns are Drae/draer/draer/draers/draeself.” 

Josie-”Oh thank you! I'll do my best to address you as such :3 As for Scalin, do you mean that he's like, in the back of the house or are you at work or?”

Gio-”Oh. You don’t know? We’re a system.”

Josie-”What does that mean?”

Gio sent a pluralpedia link that described plurality and systems. It was a fascinating read, though admittedly I only skimmed it so I could get back to the conversation.

Josie-”Okay, so that’s interesting. So, I was talking to someone who’s a part of your system then?”

Gio-”Yeah Scalin was the one who was at the support group. He’s taking Cobra HRT though he does think it’s funny how you referred to him as ‘King Cobra Guy.’ But right now you’re talking to me, Gio. I would be considered the host. Well co-host. Usually Heath is up here too.”

Josie-”Well what would you like to talk about? As happy as I am to talk about plurality and systems I don’t think that’s why you started messaging me.” 

Gio-”Hm. Well I was thinking of hosting a movie theater get together at the place where I work. But I wanted to get some opinions first. Scalin was saying you two had talked about movies and upcoming ones. It wouldn’t be for another month or so though. But I thought it would be fun to host a get together around some sort of activity rather than just going to the support group again!”

 Gio-”Also I gotta brb.”

Josie-”Uh okay.”

A few minutes passed before he, or they I suppose, started typing again.

Heath-”Salutations! Pleased to be back on the air~!”

Josie-”Whu? We were just talking. Unless, okay. Are you another… headmate? Alter?”

Heath-”I am indeed. The nomenclature that I am most often referred to as is Heath, though I’ve been known to go by different names such as Alastor or the Radio Demon.”

Josie-”Okay… Well, hi Heath. I was just talking to Gio about him hosting a get together at his movie theater.”

Heath-”Oh I know! I was watching that boorish conversation. But a get together in-front of one of those noisy ‘silver screens’ might be quite fun indeed. The only obstacle we can foresee is the matter of transportation. However I might have just the remedy to that conundrum.”

Josie-”Oh? And what’s the remedy to that?”

Heath-”Why I can’t just tell you! It’s something to be experienced! Enjoyed! But even before all that, there’s a simple question I have to ask… Do we have a deal?”

Josie-”Well I mean I wanna hang out with you yeah! You, or I guess Scalin, seemed really cool and I wanna hang with him more. So I guess yeah we have a deal? What now?”

Heath-”One moment.”

Josie-”Okay…” 

A few moments passed before a static covered, tall antlered fellow with scarlet red hair and a similarly colored suit stuck his hand out from my computer monitor! He yanked my arm and dragged me through the TV!

As soon as I opened my eyes I was on a jade colored mountaintop while the antlered man looked down upon me with a devilish, sharp-toothed smile.

“Welcome to our humble abode little bovine” he said, holding out a hand but never offering to help me up. I picked myself up and brushed off the… snow? It was a sort of white powdery substance that clung to my body. At a loss for words, I simply looked around at my newfound location.

A large dragon suddenly bellowed “Oh hell Heath did you soulbound someone!? Is that Josie!? WHAT DID YOU DO”

“Oh hey Josssie cool you’re here WAIT” exclaimed a tall snakefolk.

”Hm.” was all that a rather humanoid figure spoke. 

I stared at the figures before me. A dark scaled green dragon of considerable size looked down upon me with an expression of feral worry. A tan & black scaled snakefolk, of the King Cobra variety, had an exasperated look upon his face, equal parts concern and anger. And an older gentleman wearing a dark green coat and balancing himself on a cane whose handle appeared to be a stylized charizard. Even though I hadn't met them in these forms, I could hazard a guess that the Dragon was Gio and the Cobra was Scalin. I had no idea who the older gentleman was though…

”What, and how, are you even doing here?” spoke the green jacketed man.

”Uhhh I have no idea??? Where am I???” I responded in bewilderment. 

“Well you were all talking about inviting her so I just thought this would be the quickest and most efficient way!” Heath said in a surprisingly upbeat manner.

The dragon lowered draer head towards the red haired demon and growled ”How the fuck did you know your magic would work.”

”I didn’t! But she made the deal and that sufficed.” spoke Heath happily in what I was beginning to understand was his trademark tone.

Scalin turned angrily towards me hissing “You made a deal. With. HEATH!?”

”Fuck me… How was I supposed to know!? It was just a message on Chaos!” I pleaded 

”Chaos isn't actually here right now.” Gen responded sardonically

Now I was the target of Gio’s ire and words as he growled ”A guy introduces themselves as the radio demon and you don’t question making a deal?”

Scared, all I could think to say was “I THOUGHT IT WAS JUST A FIGURE OF SPEECH!”

”Well you're here now. Heath! We're at work, what are we supposed to do about this??” said the dragon, turning his attention back towards the demon.

Ever chipper, Heath calmly quipped ”Oh don't worry I was just having fun with the little cow. She'll be back in the quote unquote ‘real world and off the mountain in just a jiffy.”

Heath reached out his hand towards mine yet again. “We had a deal, remember~?”

”Josie, you can't do it. What's gonna happen next??” Scalin spoke, his hood flaring as he said this.

”I agree with Scalin. We can figure out how to fix this ourselves without his help.” Spoke the green dragon in a low, rumbling voice. 

But, despite their protests, I still reached out my hand. Heath grabbed it with a firm hold and once again the world around me tumbled as my vision was violently turned black. I opened my eyes to a “WHAT THE FUCK” from the same green haired man I had spoken to at the support group. 

“Oh. Hi?” was all I could think to say as drae breathed heavily in front of me, a mix of anger and surprise. My surroundings were that of a movie theater; and somehow I was sitting on the sticky floor behind the concession stand. 

“Gio?? What's wrong?” spoke a short balding man as he made his way towards us. “N-nothing sir, I uh.” 

I figured this would be the best chance to make myself known to this guy’s apparent boss. “Hi!” I said, jolting up from the floor. “I was just dropping by to say hi to… Gio! I'm his friend!”

“Hmmm” was all the man let out as he gave me a cursory, cautionary check over up and down. “Welp, I've been needing someone to work concessions! And by your looks you're one of them thur-rains like Gio right?”

“Uh. Yeah? You can tell I'm a cow?”

“Kinda hard to not notice little missy. And I have big plans, big plans. World's first Thur-rain friendly movie theater! You people will come from all over to watch films in my theaters! Now, do you want a job or not? Consider this your first day on the job. Gio can give you the rundown but. Gio! The main theater ends in 20 minutes, I'm gonna need you in there by then so it's clean before the 4 o’clock showing.”

As he walked away Gio gave me a quick rundown. That no matter who might be fronting, the outside knew draer only as Gio. Luckily it actually *was* Gio at this time in charge of the body so I wouldn't be misnaming my newfound friend. Gio and I got to formulating theories as to what just happened. How Heath pulled me from my home to his headspace and then to this theater. But, ultimately, we were at a bit of a loss. I had wanted to come visit anyways, just not like this… Heath had saved me the cost of a bus ticket but had stranded me halfway across the country. Gio had already scheduled with the others in the server that the meetup would be in a few weeks so everyone had a chance to arrange transportation. 

I looked up the prices and we both deduced it would cost me three times as much to head home and come back rather than just waiting out the three weeks here… I had already been using up my vacation time from work so I'd be able to be home during the onset of my transition… I was set to start again Monday. But, I called my work and took another 4 weeks off. Luckily I had quite the amount of sick time banked. And it seemed I had a job lined up here for me so I could at least pay for my own hotel and essentials. 

The rest of the day was spent haphazardly serving popcorn and drinks to waves of hungry customers. The boss was just happy to have a new face to speak his eccentricities towards. I could tell by the eye rolls of my new coworkers these were all diatribes they had heard before. The day went by surprisingly quickly, actually, and before I knew it Gio was helping me to clock out and offered to drive me to the nearest hotel. 

The car ride was full of the usual conversation topics of a newly forming friendship, if one created under unusual circumstances. Favorite foods, favorite music, commiserating on the evils of capitalism, those sorts of things. Drae dropped me off outside the hotel with a half-hug and a goodbye. But before drae drove off I could see a wide smile creep across Gio’s face and a thought permeated my mind. I knew that my previous encounter with Heath would not be my last.

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Josie's Cow HRT Journey

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King Cobra HRT Month 1.5

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Hope you enjoyed Part 6! Created with the help of @thecrystalmountainsystem ! They created and supplied the art as well as helping with the general structure of this chapter. Check out their own Animal HRT series: Cobra HRT!

Thanks for looking!

[callmearcturus]

just some things i love about the XMAU triumvirate

RAVEN

she is literally The Reason the timeline is different and she is the fulcrum of the changes and is the most important person, i'm not remotely kidding

I really really hate the trope of "smart, level-headed female character who is too good for these dumb men" but Raven's arc from the first movie to the fourth actually justifies it. she starts off lost and stuck in Charles' shadow in XMFC, is emotional and confused and angry and alone in DOFP, is a free agent and a very very reluctant hero in XMA, and by the time she reached DP she's so fucking wise and mature, it's actually CHARACTER PROGRESSION

she did need a push at the start, and when someone helps her grow emotionally, she actually repays that by returning the favor. Erik gave her a way to live without Charles and helped her learn pride in herself, and in return she's the one to be Erik's better angel in XMA after Charles royally screws that shit up. even just the invocation of her is the thing that wakes Erik up from his rage spiral in DP.

likewise, she is the one who over and over and over again voices the Charles You Fuck-Up chorus against Charles. in XMA she calls him tf out for his rose-colored glasses because she's out in the thick of it, she's the boots on the ground where he is not. in DP, she drags his ass for his respectability politics and ego-stroking, and she's fucking right.

taking a character who literally had to hide their identity for most of her life and then making her a literal hero-- all of the younger mutants look up to her, her appearance on TV changed everyone's lives, Ororo literally brings her up the second anyone glances at her painting of Raven. and the clear discomfort Raven feels about that, having tripped into being... kind of what she herself needed growing up, and her complicated feelings about it.

SHE IS LITERALLY THE PERSON CHARLES THINKS HE IS. she is a symbol of the worth of mutants, she is the foot soldier who rescues people in danger and brings them to safety, and when someone is off the deep end and NEEDS to hear the right thing, Charles fucks it up EVERY TIME but Raven doesn't.

she's vulnerable she's a bitch she's a diplomat she's a smuggler she's serving cunt she's got a bigger dick than you she's the ultimate girldad

her makeup and prosthetics in DP are genuinely beautiful, they finally figured out a solution for JLaw's apparently allergy to most techniques and she looks so cool

Ranking Amongst Jean Grey's Dads: Best Dad. Tough love, turns a blind eye when you're doing shots and having a party, probably drives a motorcycle, turned Ororo queer. Will show up to bail you out of jail if you get a trouble but will only ground you for a week.

ERIK

might be the greatest character of all time? he's really high up there, y'all.

lets just lay it out: he's a Jewish holocaust survivor who speaks at least four languages and works as a nazi hunter and is the reason the bullet curved (he was trying to save Kennedy actually). his Magical Girl Power-Up Sequence is tearing Auschwitz apart with his powers, he can control the magnetic fields on the entire planet, he floats in a Sad Snowglobe Of Magnetic Angst. he also becomes a foundry worker with ginger scruff and flannel shirts who sings polish lullabies to his daughter. he also is called in to talk to invading American soldiers and basically tell them Come Back With A Warrant and is savvy enough to avoid letting said soldiers get hurt on his land bc he knows the political ramifications. all of that is FACTUAL.

The first time we hear him speak English, his voice drops into that chasm-deep baritone and I literally went "oh no"

This Bitch Rehabilitated Himself. We joke about how Magneto Was Right but the reality is more complicated. He is certainly more right than Charles, but the gap in his ideology is intersectionality, which is wild given his origin story is Gddamn Nazi Hunter and when he decides to quit The Revolution, he becomes a laborer. All of the elements of his past, warrior to lab rat to revolutionary to dad to laborer, they all synthesize into what he finally becomes. He's a leader who is just as comfortable citing legal precedent and playing spymaster as he is constructing houses.

Punct: "Arc, do you just have a thing for public servants?" Me: "Shut the fuck up. Yes. Shut up."

The sheer physicality of how he uses his powers, how when he is tearing the planet apart, he is serene and calm and when he's in one-on-one combat he's physical and full of motion and feels like he's been doing this for his entire life.

Look: the fight on the train in DP is hot as hell. also it works as an encapsulation of his morals. when threatened, he is ruthless and efficient and brutal. when he's the last man standing between Jean and the villain, he seals the way behind him and prepares to die with a smile and a quip. Erik decides what needs to be done and does it, and if its a thankless, inglorious death, he's ready for it.

The entire dynamic of Raven and Erik. The respect, the love, the fact they definitely fucked and that's behind them but it was important to them both. In DOFP, Erik tries to kill Raven to save the timeline, and the moment her death isn't needed, he goes to her like "Yep, I did that because I thought it was right. Now its not. Here's a bunch of information you need to know." AND IT'S THAT FUCKING SIMPLE. The way Raven views Erik as almost a known quantity, someone reliable and predictable, the trust and understanding they have, SLAYS ME.

HE IS THE ONE WHO HAS TO REHABILITATE CHARLES XAVIER. In the end, it's Charles who has fucked up his life so thoroughly that he needs love and guidance to find his way again, and it's Erik who shows up and is determined he will take Charles home and accepts the responsibility of that decision.

Ranking Amongst Jean Grey's Dads: Second Best Dad, and that's including the time he lowkey tried to murder her. He's STILL second best dad. He's like the dad who didn't get custody in the divorce but when something Bad happens, the kids go to him because they trust him to help them. He can and will help you bury the bodies. He's also easier to be emotional with bc if you get angry, he's ready for it, unlike your Other Dad. And if you need to cry, he'll let you cry on him without asking you over and over "are you alright darling, do need anything, you know if you wanted to speak to a therapist i know seventeen of them" like your Other Dad, no Erik's just like "okay?" and doesn't make it a federal fucking issue. also raven probably has a motorcycle but erik definitely has a motorcycle.

Charles Fucking Xavier

the fakest bitch in the world, the self-loathing king, the addict who can't stop hurting himself, the martyr of martyrs. MCAVOY DID NOT NEED TO BRING THIS MUCH GAME TO THIS ROLE AND YET HE DID.

what makes the XMAU timeline so good is that they somewhere decided "actually, Charles is a liar" and he's not kind of a liar, he's THE liar, and it all pays off in Dark Phoenix when his carefully constructed world comes crashing down around his head.

He never understood how much he loved and needed Raven until she was gone. When she's gone and he finally recognizes who she is, sees her as more than his ward, it's the moment he most needed her. Charles is, at his core, even more than the blunt force metaphor of DOFP, an addict. He needs people to temper him and to tell him no. Left with Hank (basically living which his drug dealer and enabler), he becomes a bitter, fucked up mess who has lost all the joy in his life. He goes from the guy who is SO EXCITED TO SEE NEW MUTATIONS to calling Peter "a pain in the arse," he's just SO cold and lost and bitter and it colors everything about him.

Erik and Raven had this thing he wants, this certainty and understanding of who they each are. When he finally becomes The Professor in XMA, it feels like a pure performance. He can't drink and drug himself to death in the new world Raven has created, so he is going to be the Professor and he has all these little habits and bits of patter that feel constructed to create this shell for him to fill out and become.

AND THIS PRETTY MUCH IS CONFIRMED IN DP because Charles can't do it Erik's way and can't do it Raven's way, so he needs to win in his way, this perfect PR performance of Professor Charles Xavier who can fill your mind with "Help is on the way" at any moment. He will make the world love them because he doesn't know how to handle any alternative. But its the same knife's edge he's been balanced on since the beach in Cuba, the same edge he's been balancing on since Raven was on TV pointing a gun at Trask, the same edge he falls off in DP when he loses Raven, loses Jean, and just like that, the entire world decides to put him and the people he loves into camps. It was ALWAYS right under his feet, and his tightrope walk was always doomed to fail because to keep it going, he would have to sacrifice anyone and everyone who couldn't keep up the same facade he does.

Because Charles is angry. My gd, he is angry. YOU WANT WHAT I HAVE? YOU WANT TO FEEL WHAT I FEEL?!

He lost Raven and blows up at Erik to try to blame him only to get told tf off for abandoning everyone he was meant to care for. He lost Erik because Erik would not become the right kind of charismatic leader and he left Erik in prison for a fucking decade. He lost Raven again for ignoring the realities outside of Westchester, ignoring vicious violent injustices. He lost Erik again because his secondary mutation is the ability to say the wrong thing at the right time. He lost Erik again when he became such a fake-bitch that Erik moved to a remote island just to get away from TV news and magazines lmao. And he lost Jean because he's a liar, even if he's a liar for love. ALL OF HIS CAREFUL PLANS AND NARRATIVES FAIL IN THE END. THEY RENAMED THE SCHOOL AND SENT HIM OUT ON A LONG SABBATICAL TO FIGURE HIS SHIT OUT.

but i love him. he's a complete fuck-up who needs to have people around him to stop him, but I love him because he's wanted to be a dad when he was 12 years old, he finally learns how to say he was wrong, he sits at Jean's bedside and comforts her when she's scared, he non-consensually overwrote jean's memory. he did it to cut out the fact her father hated her and blamed her for her mother's death. he believes in Jean and trusts her in a way only Raven and Scott do in the end. Jean puts him through one of the most grotesque, de-humanizing things imaginable and he still immediately offers himself up to her to look into his heart and trusts her, still trusts her when he should not

he's a fuck-up and loses everything for what is without a doubt his mistakes. and he lives through it. so he has to keep going. and Erik's going to help him.

he once (falsely) accused Erik of taking Raven and abandoning him. in the end, Erik shows up and refuses to leave him. because Charles is a fuckup but the love is there and will always be there. Because I think Charles is only able to hurt people so much because he loves them so much. Anger is just love left out and gone to vinegar.

Ranking Amongst Jean Grey's Dads: Third Best, Second Worst Dad. Gd, he sucks so much. He got Raven killed, he lucked out of not getting Jean killed, he gets kicked out of his own fucking school, even Hank the guy who was his live-in drug dealer for years calls him to the mat. Still better than John Grey, who decided his eight year old child was a murderer and handed him off to a rich stranger and never looked back. Fuck that guy.

anyway you reached the end so i'm here to tell you that the best XMAU movie is DOFP. then Dark Phoenix. then XMFC. then Apocalypse. yes, I'm serious.

[heyclickadee]

Because I still think they’re bringing Tech back one way or another (in the immortal words of the late great Kanan Jarrus, “I’m being optimistic.”) and because I actually do need an explanation for why CX-2 was like that (because you cannot tell me we spent between 30 and 55 minutes, most of which was spent with just us watching him do stuff and not him interacting with the batch, on a symbolic construct—even if it’s not Tech, that’s an entire character at that point), here is another “CX-2 was Tech, but not physically” theory:

1. Hemlock captured and attempted to CX Tech. But, Tech being Tech, he resisted for months, and even once mostly CXd retained quite a bit of his personality in a way Hemlock found both interesting and a little worrying. Because of this, Tech became something of a special project. This is one of the reasons Hemlock never used Tech to threaten Omega—he wanted this particular CX-candidate under lock and key, and he thought that Tech had just enough personality while still in progress that he might relapse if he saw Omega, should Omega find her way to wherever Tech was being held the way she found her way down to Crosshair’s cell.

2. Since Tech was a special project, since finally well and truly CXing him (or at least getting him subdued enough to be under control, which I think is more likely) took time and effort, and since CXs don’t exactly have the best survival rate (Rex implies that he’s run into a slew of them, meaning they all probably died), Hemlock didn’t really want to send CX-Tech out just to have him die in two seconds. Alternatively: Hemlock CXd Tech just to see if he could work out a way to CX a defective clone, since it wasn’t working with Crosshair, but Tech was too badly injured to be sent out into the field without extensive cybernetics (if, say, his legs were toast after the fall or if he had a spinal chord injury that caused him chronic pain) that Hemlock didn’t want to spend money on only for him to die out in the field anyway. Or, maybe, he wanted to keep playing with Tech, because he’s Royce Hemlock and he’s a monster.

Then, either while looking for a solution for what to do with a CX project he didn’t want to waste, or as a motivation for why he worked so hard to CX Tech in the first place, Hemlock looked through Clone Force 99’s military records at one point or another and was struck by how effective a team of people with unique traits could be while working in together as a single unit. And, being the terrible mad scientist Silicon Valley startup CEO that he is, Hemlock decided to see if he could take that concept to a horrifying extreme.

3. So what he ends up doing with Tech is not that dissimilar from what Wat Tambor does with Echo. CX-Tech’s unconscious somewhere, down at the bottom of Tantiss, heavily brainwashed and sedated but still himself somewhere deep down, hooked up to some kind of apparatus, and Hemlock started using him to try to “drive” the other CXs with some kind of Avatar-style link. It becomes part of Hemlock’s updated CX process. That way the CXs can be really, truly interchangeable. (Bonus points if Tech was also the partially successful midichlorian transfer and Hemlock is taking advantage of that somehow to make this work. It’s bullshit Star Wars fantasy science—don’t think about it too hard.)

4. Though Hemlock may have tried this with others, the first CXs we see that he’s tried this with are CX-1 and CX-2. It marginally works with CX-1, to the point that Tech is there as an influence, but isn’t really in charge. He’s influential enough, however, that that’s why CX-1 reacts to Crosshair the way he does. CX-1 does know Crosshair from various conditioning sessions, but the weird beef CX-1 has with Crosshair, “If you want answers so badly, then why aren’t you asking him? Isn’t that right, brother?” and that weird warning he gives them, is all that little bit of Tech that’s sitting there in the back of CX-1’s head.

With CX-2, however, the link works so well that that’s just CX-Tech in another body.

5. Sidebar, but in this theory, it’s CX-1 who’s staring Crosshair down in Shadows of Tantiss. Or, it’s Tech staring Crosshair down through CX-1’s eyes. (One thing that has always bugged me about that shot is that the pose is 100% Tech, and we’re visually being told that it’s Tech with the armor and the lines on the wall, but that guy’s legs are proportionally just a little too short for it to BE Tech. Which could be explained multiple other ways, of course—Tech could have cybernetic legs that are shorter now, Hemlock could have gone in and surgically made his legs shorter to make him blend in with the other CXs better, they didn’t have the budget to make a Tech-specific CX model, who knows. But—I still like it being Tech without it physically being him in this shot.)

6. Another sidebar, but in this theory the reason the CX tracker isn’t something that will be picked up by a scanner is because the signal or link or whatever it is that Hemlock’s using to enable CX-Tech to drive the other CXs IS the tracker. Or the link is being established through the other CX’s inhibitor chips (which a scanner won’t pick up) or something. And when they die, the tracking signal goes dead, too.

7. Extra sidebar: Hemlock was originally going to use Crosshair for this. These were the “other plans despite his resistance to re-education” he mentions to Omega in Confined. Crosshair may or may not know this. Hemlock may have also point blank told Crosshair that he put Tech through the CX process and that Tech is “dead” in an attempt to break Crosshair, despite that not being literally true (in much the same way Wat Tambor said, “Your friend is dead,” about Echo to Rex in the TBB arc). Which just wigs out Crosshair even more when multiple CXs and especially CX-2 show up and start acting like Tech.

8. This was Hemlock’s plan for the Worst Batch CXs—basically, to have a group of CXs with unique traits all being controlled by a single mind. That mind being Tech, who he’s already got successfully “driving” CX-2.

9. Fast forward to the finale, Hemlock lets the whole worst batch out at once. This ends up being why the Worst Batch CXs have no personality, why Hemlock hesitated on sending them out at all (he wasn’t sure they would all even operate at the same time, and was so, so smug when they did), why CX-2 has so much less personality in the finale and only manages that one line, why they aren’t that big of a threat once the batch gets backup and aren’t being caught by surprise; why the worst batch CXs are so hard to kill and keep getting up, zombie-like, after they’ve been shot, why that one guy who gets his helmet knocked off walks around like he’s sleepwalking, and why the sword CX hands the sword over to CX-2. CX-2 gets more attention than the others because he’s the CX that Tech’s been driving the longest, so it takes less of an effort, but all of them collectively activated at the same time? Tech is having to drive all of them, and he’s just one guy. He’s stretched too thin and it’s almost too much to keep them moving. So they’re barely conscious and only half aware of what’s happening to them.

10. This would means that every single POV shot we got from either a tube or from a CX—because we get two from tubes, several POV shots from CX-2 including in the finale, and one significant one from CX-1—in season three is from Tech’s perspective, because he’s looking through all of them to one extent or another.

11. Whether some of the CXs survived or not—and I hope some of them did—Tech coming back and recovering in a later (possible follow up) showwould mean getting a some in-universe sympathy for the CXs that was mentioned in interviews but sorely lacking in the final product. They still would have been people under all of that, Tech would have “operated” them all to their deaths, and Tech would have been in their heads going through all of that with them as they died or got hurt. All of them, at the same time. And he would have been CX-2 (just operating in a body that wasn’t his) and done everything CX-2 did. That’s a lot to deal with. Bonus points if Tech mentioning that he was all of the CXs in the final fight and being in multiple bodies at once leads to Echo talking about what it’s like to scomp in from an internal perspective. Even if it’s just one line.

(For the record, I would actually quite like it if Tech was just CX-2 straight up and survived being impaled, and if the explanation was just, “CX-2 had to “die” and the pod that kept turning him into this had to be killed for Tech to start living again,” because it’s VERY Star Wars, but I’d be okay with this, too.)

[somedaylazysomeday]

A Boon - Part Five

Thranduil comes to visit you in Esgaroth - one ruler to another.

Thranduil x fem!reader

Rating: Mature. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3,600

Warnings: the pressures of ruling, romantic pressures, mentions of alcohol, mentions of mortality, sleeplessness, weapons, brief fear of intruders

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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You surveyed the stretch of boards ahead of you. These boards were still yellow, freshly hewn from fallen trees. They were bright against the gray waters of the lake and the gray-brown of the older, weathered boards that made up most of Esgaroth. Still, you were displeased. “This is progress, but it still leaves at least a ten minute trip by boat to reach the shoreline.” 

“Surely that is short enough, Queen?” 

You shook your head. “We are discussing farmers. At the end of a long day in the fields, they may choose to swim rather than wait for a boat or fall asleep at their oars. We can hardly afford to lose any farmers. We shall have to continue construction.” 

“But majesty,” one of your advisors protested, “if we continue, we will block the lake. Kings Thranduil, Bard, and Thorin will surely object.” 

It was a fair point and you nodded to acknowledge it. “Then we shall simply have to be more creative as we search for solutions.”

“Perhaps a bridge of some kind, far off the water…” one mused. 

“My queen!” an official called. You turned, already knowing what you would find. As you had expected, Thranduil waited on the main boardwalks of town. “Elvenking Thranduil of the Greenwood has arrived and wishes to meet with you.” 

You waved back, made your excuses to your advisors, and started back up the wooden boardwalk toward the small elven delegation. The trip was not short, but Thranduil never seemed anything less than endlessly patient as you walked. 

When you finally arrived in front of the elves, Thranduil gave an elaborate bow, took your hand, and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “My lovely Queen of Esgaroth.” 

“Thranduil.” 

A look of amused exasperation crossed his beautiful face as he straightened and you stifled a laugh. Thranduil had been officially courting you for months and he still insisted on keeping to the utmost standards of society. You, however, eagerly dropped his title whenever you could get away with it. 

“I have business with King Bard, but I could not resist halting our progress to visit the famed Beauty of the Waters.” Thranduil leaned closer. “Why is it that I never find you in your throne room?” 

The reception hall had been your coronation gift from the Kingdom of Greenwood. It was ostentatious to a remarkable degree, especially when set against the backdrop of Lake Town, but it had been the only thing that stopped Thranduil’s complaints about the rest of your coronation. The ceremony had been plain, certainly - perhaps even stark - but there were other things in Esgaroth that needed funds. It seemed a shame to waste gold on yourself.

“We both know that real business takes place outside of a throne room,” you reminded Thranduil. “Besides, I worry that Smaug will come back to steal the ridiculous gems from the walls.”

Thranduil sniffed, pressing a hand to his chest. “I hand-picked every one of those gems. They remind me of your eyes.” 

“They’re… all white?” you reminded slowly. 

“Yes,” he agreed, unperturbed. “But I did not choose them for their color. I chose them for their sparkle. Their fire. That is what matches your eyes. They are your defining feature, you know.”

For all that you thought he was an arrogant, over-confident ass sometimes, Thranduil did know how to deliver a compliment. To hide your flustered state, you asked, “How long will you stay?” 

“I must be in Dale by sunset,” he told you, regret in his tone. 

With a glance around, you scoffed. “You must leave in minutes if you will arrive there by sunset! You might have just waved from your boat as you passed by.” 

Thranduil was unbothered by your caustic tone. “Ah, but then I could not have done this…”

He swept his long robes back, lowering gracefully onto one knee. The people Lake Town drew closer behind the elven guards, watching the scene with eager expectation. 

After an appropriately long pause, Thranduil started, “My dearest queen of Esgaroth… You enrapture me. You have always done so, from the time you were a bar maid, and it has been my delight watching you rise to the challenges of being queen of what was once called Lake Town.

“Our kingdoms have been joined in matters both of diplomacy and trade to the benefit of all our people. I believe it is time we join in a more permanent alliance.” Thranduil paused, looking up into your eyes with a wide gaze of his own. “Will you agree to be my queen?” 

You smiled down at him, wrapping your hands around his. “No, Thranduil.” 

An appreciate chuckle ran through the crowd. Thranduil stood, not looking distraught in the least. “Very well. We shall depart for Dale. Accompany us to our boat?” 

“Of course,” you agreed, placing your hand on his proffered arm. You chatted pleasantly on the way back to the elves’ boat as the people of Esgaroth called sympathies to Thranduil and wished him better luck the next time. 

Thranduil had been proposing marriage to you since the week after your coronation. It had become something of a spectacle for your people to watch his attempts. There was even a betting pool on how long it would be before you gave in. It was a salve to your ego that there were a number of people who bet you would never agree to marry Thranduil at all.

“I shall return soon,” Thranduil announced, brushing your knuckles with his lips once more before he climbed into the elegantly carved boat. 

The elven guard who had been trailing behind you paused by your side for a moment. “Your highness?” 

“Yes?” you asked expectantly. 

“It was the bar maid line, was it not?” 

You smiled despite yourself. “Among other things.” 

The guard shook his head. “I begged him to reconsider that section.” 

“I believe you.” You offered a small smile to the elf. “Thranduil is a victim only of his own hubris.”

The guard hastily stifled a laugh before he climbed into the boat. You waited long enough to wave as they rowed swiftly across the shining waters of the lake. After an appropriate amount of time, you strode to your office, waving away teasing questions about when you would finally allow yourself to be caught. 

There was far too much to be done. 

Lake-Town - or Esgaroth - was not what it once was, but not all of the changes were negative. Most of the people who had survived Smaug’s attacks had chosen to follow King Bard to settle Dale, but Esgaroth had kept almost a third of its original population. And the town was bolstered by the ever-flowing tide of merchants and travelers who chose to settle on the lake instead of further into the mountains. 

Yes, Esgaroth was growing and changing, developing into a fine community with the makings of an actual economy. There were days when you questioned whether you had been made queen as a joke of some kind and if the townspeople would take it away from you. But there had been no hints of that. 

It probably aided your rule that you weren’t queen full-time. You still ran the Ripple, though you had needed to hire additional help for when you were fulfilling royal duties. Contributing to the local job market - and alcohol provisions - definitely helped your popularity among Esgaroth residents.

The Ripple was nearly empty when you stepped inside. Storr beamed at you from his place behind the bar, giving a bow so deep that you worried (or hoped) that he would bash his forehead against the shining wooden surface. 

“My queen!” Storr cried, drawing the attention of both patrons. They lifted their tankards at you; they knew you well enough to know that was the only acknowledgement you truly welcomed. “To what do we owe this honor?” 

You scowled at him. Storr didn’t take the expression to heart. You had largely left him in charge of the Ripple when you were doing other things around the town, and he had handled the responsibility with grace and a level head. You appreciated everything he did for you and your business… and both of you knew it. 

Still, you filled your tone with steel and venom as you said, “This is my bar, Storr. If you’ve forgotten, perhaps it’s time for me to find a replacement.” 

Storr only laughed, and the sound made you smile back at him. You accepted his brief hug when he had stepped around the bar. “You know I hate when you bow to me.”

“Why else would I do it?” he asked, patting your shoulders as you pulled away. “Kirna and Kell say hello.” 

“Give them my love,” you said instantly. Storr’s wife Kirna had been one of your staunchest supporters even before the town had decided to make you its queen. And his son Kell was wise beyond his four years… and far more energetic than you remembered being as a child. 

“Of course.” Storr sighed. “I know you are far too busy, but remember that you have an open invitation to come for dinner.”

“I am never too busy for friends,” you protested.

Storr cut you off with a loud laugh. “You’re too busy to sleep and eat, let alone visit with lowly town residents.” He winked at you, continuing before you could refute that statement. “While we are on the subject, what brings you to the Ripple this afternoon?” 

“Honey mead.” You glanced toward the back room where you stored the mead as it went through the process of fermentation. None of the casks were visible from where you stood, but you looked anyway. “I need to bottle a few casks. That double batch should be ready for consumption next month.” 

Storr grimaced. “That will be a busy night. Will you be here to help?” 

“I- will do my best,” you said carefully. Sadly, the truth was that you couldn’t know for certain where you would be when the mead was ready. It all depended on what was happening in the town. “I’ll see if I can find someone to come up for extra support for the first few nights.”

The first sign you had of an impending conversation was that Storr followed you to the fermentation room. He had always avoided it, claiming that the smells gave him a headache. 

“What is it?” you asked as the door closed behind him. There was a tangle of fear in your stomach as you waited for whatever news he had. 

“Nothing bad,” he assured. “More a question than a concern. But you will dislike it.” 

That did nothing to soothe your nerves. “Go on.” 

“Perhaps you should consider hiring additional help on a permanent basis,” Storr said, clearly choosing his words with care. 

“I… did hire help…” you reminded slowly. “We have five employees for you to manage, and I assist here as often as I can.” 

“You do, and everyone appreciates your dedication to the Ripple.” Storr’s gaze dipped to one of the casks, studying it like it was fascinating. “But the demands of being queen mean that you can’t be here when you say you will, even if you do your best to come. And the problems will only grow worse when you marry Thranduil.” 

The stinging ache of guilt in your chest was frozen in place at the unexpected conclusion to Storr’s point. “Thranduil? He has no bearing on this situation. I have no intention of marrying him.” 

Storr aimed a dry look in your direction. “I heard he proposed earlier.” 

“And I said no,” you told him. “As I always do.” 

“Yes, but you will not refuse him forever.” Storr shook his head, looking somewhat mournful at the idea. “The two of you have been courting for almost two years. Marriage is the eventual goal of courtship, is it not?” 

“Technically speaking…” you trailed, trying not to look as uncomfortable as you felt. With a sigh, you chose to confide in your friend. “I will not marry Thranduil. I cannot. It could never work between us, not for any real length of time. He sees me as I am and is blind to the way I will be. The years will weigh me down in a way that will not happen to him. If I am the only one to see our future clearly, it is my burden to keep him from making that mistake.” 

To your surprise - and mild hurt - Storr seemed to find that amusing. “Such disdain for your Elvenking, even after so long a time… But now, as back when you first met him, I believe you may be misjudging Thranduil.”

You huffed out a sigh. "I do not understand you, Storr. First you claim to be concerned that I will marry Thranduil and now you seem to be angling for that very result. Was my argument that unsound?" 

"No, I think Thranduil is more determined than you seem to believe." 

You opened the first cask of honey mead, letting it hiss slowly as you moved to the next. With the sound of a half-dozen snakes filling the room, you turned to Storr and frowned. “I believe I am at least his match in determination, if not more. You should not be so certain that he will convince me.” 

Storr dragged a hand over his face. “I am not trying to start another competition between he and you. Or even myself and you. I am simply saying that you are more likely to listen to reason.” 

“And how has marrying an immortal elven king become a reasonable option?” you demanded. 

“When you started courting him.” That seemed like a jest and you narrowed your eyes at Storr. He made a helpless sort of gesture. “What I mean is that he pressed your courtship. He encouraged your placement as queen of Esgaroth. Now he is insisting that the two of you be married. Maybe it is not reasonable for him to push for this, but your reasons for fighting him are ones that will be to his detriment, not yours. Do you want to marry him?” 

You began pouring the settled mead into gallon jugs. They would be prepared for the final fermentation process when you were done, and ready for consumption only a few weeks after that. You had hoped that the delay in your answer would distract Storr, but he watched you and waited patiently. 

“That is not the point,” you said eventually, avoiding the question entirely. “Thranduil does not think about the future.” 

“I disagree,” Storr said decisively. “I believe he thinks almost exclusively about the future. Most elves do. We now get enough of them in here to know. Maybe Thranduil just believes the present outweighs the future.” 

“He is wrong.” You punctuated your point with a sharp slap, using the motion to force a cork into the mouth of a bottle. 

“Have you explained your reasoning to him?” 

It was a fair point, and you grimaced. “No. But only because he has not given me the chance.” 

“Then he will only keep asking,” Storr pointed out. “And he may eventually grow discouraged by your refusals.”

You laughed at that, and Storr eventually joined you. It was difficult to imagine Thranduil being discouraged by much of anything. He pursued what he wanted whole-heartedly until he had gotten it, without exception. 

But still, you were thinking about Storr’s words long after you had bottled your mead and left the Ripple. In fact, you were thinking about them so hard that you had trouble falling asleep that night. 

It was ridiculous, and you were half-tempted to take Storr up on his offer only to lecture him at his home. The day had been long and your body was exhausted… but your brain refused to stop tossing up possibilities for the future, and you were dragged reluctantly along for each scenario. 

When the knock sounded at your door, you were grateful for the interruption. 

However, you were not so grateful that you left behind the light, elven-forged short sword that Thranduil had gifted you. He had intended it for decorative purposes, meant to adorn your hip as you were crowned queen, but he had warned that elvish weapons only dulled after hundreds of years of constant use. The short sword would serve as a handy weapon if your unexpected guest was less friendly than you wished (or far too much more).

When you opened the door to find Thranduil on the other side, you let the blade dip until the tip was nearly brushing the floor. The Elvenking’s dark brows were arched high on his forehead, his gaze moving quizzically from the sword to your face. 

“Late night sparring practice?” he drawled. 

You shook your head and stepped aside to let him in. “I was not expecting to see you again tonight. Did you not arrive in Dale by sunset?” 

“I arrived with time to spare,” Thranduil assured you, closing and locking the door securely behind you both. “You need a larger home. One befitting the role of a queen. If there are none in Esgaroth to your liking, I could always have something constructed…” 

“Thranduil, focus,” you commanded, watching the glow of amusement on his face. “What happened? Why are you not in Erebor now? I thought you were meant to be treating with King Thorin?” 

“I seem to have offended him,” he said, offering an unconcerned shrug. “He ordered me to leave and I believed it was best to oblige him. His youth gives his temper an unwise edge.” 

“He’s older than anyone I’ve ever met,” you argued, grimacing at the dry look Thranduil gave you. “Present company excluded, of course.” 

“That may be,” Thranduil sniffed, “but it makes him ill-suited for leadership, especially in a situation like ours, in which so many kingdoms occupy such a small space.”

“His people seem to believe his leadership is excellent,” you countered. “As do the people of Dale. Besides, I believe your opinion has not been requested.” 

“And yet it should have been,” Thranduil climbed the ladder up to the second floor of your home with ease and remarkable speed, offering a hand to pull you up the ladder after he had reached the top. “Considering that mine is the largest of the kingdoms. And I hope to make it still larger when our kingdoms combine.” 

You sighed. “I lack the energy to have this argument once more. Not today. Can we discuss something else?” 

“Of course,” the Elvenking soothed, drawing you into his arms. You settled in that embrace, your cheek pressed against the delicate weave of Elven fabric. It did not muffle the steady beat of his heart, and you were thankful for that. “Perhaps you would like to tell me why you are awake so late.” 

“I… would rather not,” you hedged. If you even hinted at the way Storr’s words had been eating at you, Thranduil would consider you as good as wed. And while you disliked the idea of him losing interest and moving on, your concerns were valid enough that they demanded a solution. “Why are you here, Thranduil? I am happy to see you, but-” 

“-but I was hardly expected,” Thranduil finished for you. “As I said, Thorin removed me from the halls of Erebor, but Bard is still there. I decided to send my guards back to the Greenwood rather than stay in Dale. And when I saw the candlelight behind your shutters, I came here instead of returning to my own kingdom.” 

“Because it’s closer for you to return to Erebor tomorrow?” you asked. 

Thranduil laughed softly. “You know Thorin well enough to know that I will not be welcomed back into his kingdom for at least a fortnight. No, I simply concluded that my time would be far better spent here.” 

You stared up at him, making note of the soft fondness that filled his haughty, fine-boned face. “You… are too kind.” 

“Do not mistake my honesty for simple flattery,” he told you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I enjoy your company and I prefer to think that you like mine as well. No, I know for certain that you enjoy my company. I would know if you did not - you are far too honest not to have told me so.” 

You huffed out a laugh despite yourself and Thranduil smiled. With the barest hint of pressure against your lower back, he urged you toward the ladder that took you up to the highest floor of your home. “Come, it is surely past time for you to be in bed.” 

The idea of the Elvenking himself ordering you to bed would have made you laugh if only it sounded less appealing. So you let him shepherd you upstairs and into bed. When you had gone to answer the door, you had only pulled on the minimum amount of clothing to protect yourself from the lake breezes. It took only moments to undress once more.

Thranduil never suffered any crisis of confidence, so he stripped bare and slid between the sheets beside you. The warmth of his body next to yours put you in an even deeper state of relaxation, especially as his hand found yours beneath the cover of your quilt. His thumb traced gentle strokes over the back of your hand, almost hypnotic in its steadiness. 

Maddeningly, you still could not fall asleep.

---

Author's Note - There is definitely going to be a second part tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!

[masiethewriter]

Honored Eternal Path of Demise CH. 11 - Expected Betrayal

“There is nothing that can help us!” Luo Binghe suddenly roars, loud enough that Shen Qingqiu can’t help but take a step back. “We are stuck here with no way out and no matter what I do you keep acting like-” “Acting like what?!” Shen Qingqiu harshly interrupts. Finally Luo Binghe turns back around, ready to unleash his anger on a fighting target. “Like I am nothing but a beast that you wouldn’t rather see beaten to the ground than-” He suddenly stops. Looking right at Shen Qingqiu, his voice cuts off as his eyes widen.  Shen Qingqiu takes that as the warning that it is. 

First Chapter ~~ Previous Chapter ~~ AO3 Link

Loose rock crunch underneath their shoes. The rain has lightened to a drizzle, with the clouds beginning to part. Not too long from now they will clear a path for the moonlight to shine through. Shen Qingqiu expects himself to be back inside the mansion by then. 

Far ahead of them, they can see the first signs of the gate. They are nearing a part of the game that Shen Qingqiu only remembers too well. 

It could have been interesting for him to experience this part of the game which is usually reserved for Ning Yingying. When first playing the game, the tutorial had seemed like a promising start of something great. Teaching the player the obvious game mechanics as well as foreshadowing a few others. 

How to crouch and pick up items is knowledge required for the player to progress. Having to find a hidden way underneath the fallen tree and the labyrinth of bushes are more discreet as lessons go. Investigation is key even when seemingly at a dead end. Walking into the dark always carries a risk that could be deadly. It is these lessons taught by the game that Shen Qingqiu has been following from the beginning.

And soon they will reach the next lecture where the most dangerous game mechanic of all will be introduced - The chase. 

Shen Qingqiu does his best to postpone this for as long as he can. If Luo Binghe is a transmigrator, this is the perfect time to lure him into the hands of the Killer. His suspicion that this is a trap only grows as they get closer, so he needs to be prepared. The more time he has to do that, the better.

Shen Qingqiu is also uncertain how it will all play out. Back when playing the game, once he reached the corpse, the rest of this section would play out in a cutscene. 

If he remembers correctly, the sequence of events will be as follows: after being horrified by their dead classmate, Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying will get attacked by the Killer. Somehow they will become split up, with Luo Binghe urging for Ning Yingying to run. The only way for her to go will be back towards the mansion. Using the flashlight, she will guide herself back through the maze. Right afterwards it will break down. Before she can act, the Killer will appear and in her shock she will drop the flashlight and run. It is first when she is past the fallen tree that the cutscene will end and the player has to guide her inside and to the safe room. 

The rest of her story, Shen Qingqiu is quite familiar with by now.

How cutscenes are going to work when made into reality, he doesn't know. His assumption would be that they... don't. That the triggers will still be there, but that he can act them out as he wants.

Of course, Shen Qingqiu would not like any force taking over and controlling his actions. He has not had any limits to his free will since waking up in this game and he prefers to keep it that way. But he can't help the apprehension he feels at having to play out the cutscene himself. It is up to his own skills to survive this meeting with the Killer. 

Also, with Luo Binghe being an unpredictable complication, his calculations are not in his favor. But that does not mean the math has no other solution. He will just have to find another way to add up the numbers.  

Luo Binghe is only a few steps behind him. Upon seeing the gate, he had reacted appropriately positively and tried to hurry them up. Shen Qingqiu had to act extra stubborn and point out the danger they might be in not to have him run ahead. Even now, Shen Qingqiu can still feel his restless energy and has to force the both of them to keep a steady pace.

If Luo Binghe is truly playing another game, he is playing it well.

As they near the gate, Shen Qingqiu can't help the swe he feels as it towers above them. It is made of dark iron, only visible in the darkness thanks to two lights melted into it. The metal is thick and smooth, formed in a way so it is impossible to climb. Neither is there any way to squeeze through the bars. The gate functions as a perfect barrier between them and the outside world.

And lying against this locked cage of theirs is the dead body of someone who was once the classmate of Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying. 

It is still not recognizable for what it is. From their current distance it rather looks like an oddly shaped rock or strange shadow. Luo Binghe has certainly not realized what it is yet.

"That must be the way out!" he exclaims and this time Shen Qingqiu can not stop him as he runs past him. "Come on Senior, let's hurry up!"

Shen Qingqiu does not hurry up. In fact, as the lights on the gate begin to reveal the colors and features of the strange shape, he finds himself slowing down.

There are many interesting views a person like Shen Qingqiu can look admire if he so chooses. 

He can stare up at the unbelievable height of the gate and marvel at the sheer power it seems to emit as clouds glide by behind it. 

He can look into the black void off the road, through the deep darkness in which the weakest light of a lamp post far away shines through.

He can look back the way they came, smaller bushes along the road harmless versions of the poisonous kind they passed not too long ago.

Many directions for Shen Qingqiu to look at. Each and everyone is preferable to that of a dead body.

After the last session he has seen enough of other people's corpses. 

He can hear the moment Luo Binghe realizes what lies by the gate. A loud gasp of horror. As Shen Qingqiu looks towards him, he sees an expression of pure shock and terror.

Luo Binghe is covering his mouth with both hands, backing up towards Shen Qingqiu. Never takes his eyes off his deceased classmate. His breathing has quickened and a tremor runs through his entire body. 

As Shen Qingqiu looks over at the body, he can't help but feel... not as affected. 

Oh, it is horrific, don't get him wrong. His throat tightens up and he has to take deep breaths as his body shakes from something other than the cold. But the sheer heartache he felt as he saw Ning Yingying was so much more devastating than... than this person he doesn't know at all.

He knows from the others perspective, this used to be a human being. But he himself never got to know them as such. In the game, this corpse functioned as nothing more than a trigger for a cutscene. Forgotten as soon as it was out of frame. No personality, no backstory, no relationship to any of the characters besides their classmate status. 

Slumped against the wall, huge gash in their chest and intestines spilling out, it is more the grotesque gore that is making Shen Qingqiu nauseous than anything else. Because... Because this is not a real person. Because no matter how many resets, in every single one of them, this person will be dead before the game has even started.  

Essentially, they are mechanically no different from that of a piece of furniture.

"Senior Shen, this is..." Luo Binghe begins before he hesitates. Looking between Shen Qingqiu and his dead classmate, he swallows thickly as he continues, voice deeply serious. "We are not alone here, after all."

"We are not," is Shen Qingqius dark answer. 

"What should we do? If we leave- If we just leave Ning Yingying might be in danger!" Luo Binghe worries and moves as if he is about to turn around and run back to her. Only Shen Qingqius hand on his arm keeps him still.

"She is in no greater danger than when we left her. Also look closer. The blood is fresh."

Shen Qingqiu does not need to explain what he means. Immediately Luo Binghes guard is up, looking in every direction. So far it is just the two of them. Still, the rustling from the trees and howling of the wind suddenly fill them both with much more dread. Shen Qingqiu because he knows what is about to happen. Luo Binghe possible the same.

Shen Qingqiu does not want to get near the corpse, but there is a sick piercing curiosity that moves him forward. Slowly he moves closer, kneeling by the body to study it. His only excuse for his actions is that Ning Yingying would have done the same if she was here, though for more sympathetic reasons.

The boy is around their age. His face youthful and pale, lips tinged blue. He wears the same school uniform as the rest of them, a badge on his chest confirming him to be a junior like Luo Binghe and Ning Yingying. Ignoring the cause of his death, there are no other signs of a struggle. He likely got killed right here by the gate, unable to do anything but fall over and die. 

The slash on his chest starts at the hip and reaches across to his armpit. Blood still spills out in a steady flow, mixing with the rain and mud. The wound has split deeply enough that chunks of meat and intestines have fallen out, still releasing heat as they lay in a pile in his lap. Covering his mouth and nose, Shen Qingqiu has to swallow a couple of times in order not to empty his stomach. 

This is undoubtedly the third most disgusting thing he has ever seen in his life. Ning Yingying’s corpse and the horrible bathroom taking first and second place.

"-must have been surprised when it happened," Luo Binghes voice suddenly interrupts his musings. "But this means we have no idea if there are others who have been kidnapped like us. Hopefully no one else has been hurt."

Wait, what did he say? Shen Qingqiu missed the beginning, was he talking about his classmate here? Now that he thinks about it, he doesn't actually remember their name... He's certain Ning Yingying has mentioned it more than once before, but he can't for the life of him recall what it is. The original goods would definitely have known, so that is kind of embarrassing actually...

"The faster we leave, the faster we can get help," Shen Qingqiu answers while making a mental note to better listen next time this guy gets named. 

Luo Binghe simply agrees. He no longer looks as terrified, dark determination instead taking its place. 

He turns away and marches to the gate. Standing beside it, his smaller frame compared to its great height make him appear almost insignificant. Like he is just a small matter to easily withstand as it continues its purpose in life. A purpose that is in perfect conflict with what they are trying to achieve. 

Luo Binghe reaches out towards the gate handle. Every muscle in his body is taught. Hesitation keeps his movement slow. 

As he finally grasps it, a tremor curses through his entire body. It is as if he has been hit by lightning and just barely manages to keep his hold. He lets out a painful breath, eyes big as he looks out at their freedom. Then he grits his teeth and pushes.

The gate does not move. Even against Luo Binghes strength, it is an immovable force. Made in such a way as to give them a hope that will never come to be. 

Luo Binghes reaction is understandable. After having seen the actual danger that they are in, the need for getting out has become desperation. First he tries to pull, as if he just got the direction wrong. Then he puts more force into it, the strain of his muscles visible through his drenched sleeve. 

"Let us out!" he growls as he puts both hands on the handle. His movement can no longer be considered push or pull, but pure violence as he tries to force it to move by his hands. 

The gate stands still. It does not rattle for even a bit. Shen Qingqiu simply looks on, knowing that they will never get out. He does not try to stop Luo Binghe. He simply observes him as the rage of the other grows. 

This does not appear to be the actions of a fellow transmigrator luring him into a trap. This appears as the expected behavior of a scared young man finding himself caught in a horrifying situation. Fear and anger blinding him, keeping him from giving up in a fight he has already lost. 

Seeing Luo Binghe like this, Shen Qingqiu can only feel pity. Because in the end, he knows exactly how he feels.

"God dammit!" Luo Binghe curses as he releases the gate with a final kick. Hands yanking at his hair, he steps away, taking in huge gulps of air. Seeing him so vulnerable to his own anger, Shen Qingqiu decides to finally interfere.

"We should get back to Ning Yingying," is all he says. Standing back up, he does not bother trying to wipe off the mud on his pants.

It is as if Luo Binghe suddenly remembers he is not alone. His movement freezes, though he does not turn around to face Shen Qingqiu. Instead he hunches his shoulders, fists clenched tights enough that his knuckles turn white.

"And what are we going to do? We are stuck here." Luo Binghe hisses.

"Which is why I suggested not relying on only one solution to our predicament. Now we know this was a waste of time and can act accordingly."

"What are you even-!? How can you act like this? Are you not at all affected?"

Not liking the disgust in Luo Binghes voice, Shen Qingqiu can't help but defend himself. 

"Of course I am affected. But staying here is not going to help Ning Yingying and it is certainly not going to help us."

“There is nothing that can help us!” Luo Binghe suddenly roars, loud enough that Shen Qingqiu can’t help but take a step back. “We are stuck here with no way out and no matter what I do you keep acting like-”

“Acting like what?!” Shen Qingqiu harshly interrupts.

Finally Luo Binghe turns back around, ready to unleash his anger on a fighting target. “Like I am nothing but a beast that you wouldn’t rather see beaten to the ground than-”

He suddenly stops. Looking right at Shen Qingqiu, his voice cuts off as his eyes widen. 

Shen Qingqiu takes that as the warning that it is. 

"Senior Shen!" Luo Binghe calls out, but he is already ducking down. The gust of heavy metal slashes right where his head was a second ago, tearing at his hair. He throws himself away, sliding in the mud as he turns his back to Luo Binghe. Turns around so he can face the Killer.

By now he is more intimate with that devilish grin and the cold edges of the axe than he has been with anything else. It's a simple weapon, but through many, many sessions, he has been shown many, many different ways that it can take a life. Especially his life.

And while he hasn't gotten to see behind the mask since that one time, he honestly considers that a blessing. He found that he prefers the constructed grimace above the real face any time.

His many confrontations with the Killer has left him more skilled in the art of avoiding the deadly weapon. So as it swings down, he is already back on his feet, stepping out of its reach. Not even a second can be spared to check up on Binghe.

The earth is slippery with mud, even on the rocky road. Soundlessly the Killer charges forward. Shen Qingqiu jumps to the side, but is unable to keep his balance. As he falls, he feels the sharp edges of rocks cut into his palms.

Luo Binghe is behind him and for a second Shen Qingqiu worries that he will get caught instead. But looking back, Luo Binghe is just as capable at evading the Killer. 

In fact, as the Killer slashes at him, he manages to lead him back towards the gate. A particularly brutal swing of the axe aims for Luo Binghes head, but he ducks just in time for it to hit the dark iron instead. A dull clang rings out and for a second it appears as if the force is enough to shake the Killers hold loose.

They are not that lucky. Shen Qingqiu is back on his feet, but Luo Binghe is stuck with the Killer between him and the road. Realising this, his eyes meet Shen Qingqiu's. He calls out only one word:

"Run!"

Shen Qingqiu turns. The command rings in his mind like white noise. Every instinct in his body screaming at him to get away. Pure survival takes over as he begins to run. 

Running back the way they came. Running back towards the mansion. Running back to where he is meant to be. 

He only manages a few steps. He stumbles as he is hit with sudden realisation. 

Luo Binghe is staying behind. Luo Binghe is trying to distract the Killer. Luo Binghe is risking himself to allow Shen Qingqiu to escape.

This can not be a trap.

In fact, this is the exact same course of action that would have happened if Ning Yingying had been here. The same panic at the Killer's appearance. The same forced parting as the Killer stands in the way. The same sacrifice for the survival of another. 

With this realisation, Shen Qingqiu can no longer deny the lack of proof that Luo Binghe is also a transmigrator. The only exception has been his invitation for Shen Qingqiu to join him. With anything else, he has behaved exactly as Luo Binghe the NPC would. 

Shen Qingqiu hesitates. He was so certain Luo Binghe was trying to lure him to his death. But when looking back, he can find no reason for it. He made the choice that Luo Binghe must have malicious intentions, with no actual reason to back up this belief. 

And now, this innocent boy is staying behind just so he has a chance to run away. 

Shen Qingqiu should run. Luo Binghe can't die. It is definitely better for him to be in the Killers focus. No matter how their fight turns out, he will manage to get back up and continue the game. There is no reason Shen Qingqiu should worry. He has already played through the entire game, reaching every route and ending, with Luo Binghe staying alive to the end in every single one. 

Luo Binghe is the last character he should ever have to worry about. 

But Luo Binghe can get hurt. He can still be beaten down and defeated. He is not immune to becoming damaged enough that the game can reasonably push him out of the narrative for a while.

There must be a reason for why he doesn’t return back to the mansion right after meeting the Killer.

He may be safe from death. But no matter the argument, one simple reason makes it all mean nothing. 

While thinking of Luo Binghe fighting with the Killer, Shen Qingqiu can not get the image of Ning Yingying’s desecrated corpse out of his head. 

He turns back around. He sees the broad back of the Killer as he corners Luo Binghe. He  tightens his grasp on the only item he holds in his hands. Then he swings his arm back, putting all his strength into it as he throws the item at the Killer.

The flashlights sails through the air. With a harsh crunch it hits the Killer right in the back of his head. It splits into pieces as it falls to the ground.

The Killer stops. Slowly, he turns towards Shen Qingqiu. Even through the two small holes of the mask, he swears he can see the rage building. 

It is first now he realises that he certainly does not prefer for the Killers' attention to be on him.

It is too late. The Killer only needs to take a few long steps for Shen Qingqiu to be back in his range. As the axe aims for him once again, Shen Qingqiu can only return to the same deadly dance, steps cruelly memorable by now.

Back and forth the axe swings. Shen Qingqiu continues to evade. One jump leaves him on his knees. Before the Killer can chop him up, he takes a handful of mud and throws it in his face.

For the first time ever, the Killer lets out a yell.

The sounds are not understandable as words. But they do not hide their madness. Shen Qingqiu freezes, a chill running down his spine.

He never imagined the Killer's voice to sound so light. so... childish?

He has no time to put more thought into this. He forces himself to move and with the Killer’s brief distraction he allows himself to look back towards Luo Binghe.

Luo Binghe is gone.

Dread fills him as he looks back and forth. But Luo Binghe is nowhere to be found. 

He has abandoned him.

Shen Qingqiu does not have time to curse him out. The Killer has wiped the mud off his mask. As they face each other, Shen Qingqiu knows there is nothing that will keep him from becoming prey once more.

He has nowhere to run. He has nowhere to hide. He is caught in a fight he is guaranteed to lose. He has sealed his fate and now this will be the shortest session Shen Qingqiu has experienced so far.

If only he had never agreed to follow Luo Binghe outside. 

The force behind the axe has grown with the rage of the Killer. Each swing more deadly than the next. At the same time, Shen Qingqiu’s realisation has weakened his resolve. He is not able to dodge as quickly. He has lost his footing and is stumbling through every dodge. 

Finally, he falls. Rain continues to fall upon him as he looks up. Once again the Killer towers above him. As the axe is lifted high above his head, Shen Qingqiu finds the movement to be almost elegant. It is a second too late he realises he needs to move out of the way as the axe falls.

The axe is just as old. As rusty. Just as badly maintained. Dull and blunt. So it is more the force that splits Shen Qingqiu’s foot apart than its sharp edge. 

Shen Qingqiu just barely manages to avoid having his head carved in. but it comes with a price. He is not able to get away in time. The burning pain that rushes through as his leg is cut open is unimaginable. His answering scream just as horrific. 

His eyes are blurry with tears as he gasps for breath. 

He can't breathe, he can't breathe. 

The agony is too great, too ravenous, as it devours him through his leg, eating him whole. 

Is his foot even still connected to the rest of him!?

An answer is given as the axe gets wrenched out of muscle and tissue. A second scream leaves Shen Qingqiu, pitch in perfect symphony with the wail that comes from his nerve endings. 

He is going to die. He is going to die again. that he knows. 

But why? Why does he have to go through this suffering before it happens?

This time he has no chance of dodging the Killer. He can only lay and wait for the axe to finish its work. This time he can't even look up at the huge frame. He is only just barely able to keep his head from drowning in the mud. This time, as the shadows of a deadly tool being lifted high above cover him, he closes his eyes and turns away. 

Just because it is inevitable, does not mean he has to face it.

The wind howls. The trees crackle. Rain pours ruthlessly down on them. Not even the light from the moon peeks through to provide mercy.

A scream. Light and harrowing. 

Not Shen Qingqius. Someone else's. 

He looks up. What he sees shocks him.

With a loud thump, the axe has been dropped. Instead, the Killer holds both hands against his mask in an attempt to protect it. With a howl he steps away. 

Luo Binghe follows. 

Using his jacket as protection, he holds a heavy branch. Leaves full of sharp edges and thorns along its sides. Once more he swings it at the Killer, right as his face. Unable to see, the Killer is incapable of avoiding it. This time, the branch gets stuck between his arms and face. He shrieks as he tries to shake it off. 

Luo Binghe takes this as their chance and lets go. 

He does not run away. Instead, he goes straight for Shen Qingqiu. Using his strength, he pulls him up before he can even protest. But as his feet reach the ground, he is unable to hold in a cry of pain. Luo Binghe quickly reacts and looks down to see his stump of a foot.

Shen Qingqiu can't walk. But for whatever reason, this does not cause Luo Binghe to abandon him. 

Instead he throws his arm over his shoulder. Standing together, he keeps them balanced. And as quickly as they can, they run away into the darkness, followed only by the anguish screams of the Killer.

[p4nishers]

i'm rewatching ep 5 pinning up papers hooking red strings etc. and.

observation 1: when Casey disappears Loki looks to OB for a solution but when he also disappears all hope lost perfect silence in the room. they turn to Mobius. Look at him one last time until the end

observation 2: when the universe is disintegrating the final thought that propels Loki is Sylvie's voice 'do you think that what makes Loki a Loki is that we're destined to lose' and then they say 'NO' they are rejecting that thesis and because the time slipping is powered by 'who' by extension they are rejecting the inevitability of losing THEIR FRIENDS and well we know which of their friend's voices came through most often and clearly moments before. HOWEVER Mobius' statements in those moments were all (from their perspective) about leaving Loki; going back to his boys, the s1 statement right before he died of going back to where he was from. I'm turning this round in my head turning turning was Loki's 'no' also a rejection of the certainty that Mobius will leave them? Or is he doing all of this FOR Mobius while believing that when all is said and done Mobius will leave them and they will be alone they will lose after all

observation 3: OB says in his first exchange with Loki that their time slipping is becoming more powerful bec they are slipping through time AND space now. At this point Loki has made no progress on learning how to control it yet its engine is gaining power and its engine is love HIS LOVE IS GETTING MORE POWERFUL

you. oh my god.

1. its an instinct for them to be looking at mobius when all hope is lost, they do it in ep 1 and 5. it's like they can't fathom looking anywhere else

2. yes AND mobius' voice is by FAR the loudest and we hear sylvie say "what's wrong with wanting something, loki" and then IMMEDIATELY we hear mobius' voice. like at this point i cannot call that accidental

3. also they kept time slipping to mobius bc that's where their heart wanted them the most, that's where their love was the strongest.

kill me now.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

What would you change about Malleus if you could?

To quote myself from an older post:

“Honestly, I wouldn’t change anything about Malleus, even if I don’t like him as he is. A lot of my grievances with Malleus fundamentally make Twisted Wonderland what it is, so changing Malleus would also change Twisted Wonderland, from the marketing (aka make Malleus NOT a focal point) to the story itself. Like, the whole point of Malleus is to be standoffish and mysterious. If he wasn’t, then there wouldn’t be any good foreshadowing for chapter 7 […] I understand that he is the way he is in service of the main story plot and to stay true to his Disney origins […] he serves his purpose in the story. Don’t fix what isn’t broken.”

Instead of changing Malleus, I’d like to change how the world interacts with him without making major changes to his background or personality. That will be the focus of this post!

Here is what I would alter:

Introduce Malleus to Yuu sooner and make their interactions more meaningful than a few dialogue exchanges before he poofs away.

A lot of my issues with Malleus come from how weak his friendship with Yuu feels, especially if the player does not project onto their relationship to fill in the gaps. They don’t meet until book 2, Lilia delivers instead of Malleus in book 4, and Malleus and Yuu don’t interact at all in book 6. When they do meet, they don’t even do or say that much that would make them… I don’t know, connect? And no, the nickname (Tsunotaro/Hornton) alone doesn’t cut it for me. The value of Yuu and Malleus’s relationship as it currently stands is too dependent on whether the player likes Malleus or not, and anyone who doesn’t is left not caring about his and Yuu’s bond.

Let’s show Malleus sooner (even as early as the end of the prologue). Maybe Yuu sees his figure from a distance and is curious about him. Then have him appear and interact with Yuu every book. Have them actually get to know each other a little, but not in ways which would be too intimate or give away his identity. Tailor each interaction so that it tangentially relates to the problem Yuu is dealing with that particular book, then, through their interaction, have Malleus give advice in a roundabout way that ends up helping Yuu come up with a solution for that book. This way it progresses the story, maintains Malleus’s enigmatic presence, AND it deepens his bond with Yuu.

One good example of this actually occurs in book 3 of the main story. Yuu confides in Malleus in 3-24 that they’ve lost their dorm as collateral in a deal. Malleus then abruptly changes the topic to gargoyles. He points out that although they look scary, they serve an important function as a type of drainage spout to protect buildings from the elements. “They look frightful, and yet they are beings devoted to the preservation of the home. Sometimes, what you see with your eyes is the complete opposite of the truth.” Finally, Malleus advises Yuu to keep fighting for their dorm, as he too would hate to see Ramshackle be seized and turned into a noisy establishment. This is PERFECT, we need more of THIS sort of Malleus-Yuu interaction 😭 He’s still communicating in a quirky way and sharing his interests but he also manages to impart sage advice to Yuu, which they use to deduce the truth to Azul’s “indestructible” contracts. Give us more of this every book, please.

Properly reprimand him when he actually makes mistakes or endangers others.

I cannot tell you how insanely frustrating it is that Malleus gets let off easy for the transgressions (whether major or minor) he commits and the danger he puts his peers in. He should be held to the same standards as his peers and treated the same too. If some rando mob student or another dorm leader would get into trouble for starting a fight, then Malleus should also be held accountable when he abuses his magic (which he KNOWS he has an abundance of compared to his peers) to "prank" others. He should not get special treatment or get put on a pedestal just because of power or social status.

Give Malleus opportunities to demonstrate his abilities as a leader.

Diasomnia is known for having tons of Draconians (Malleus fan boys), right??? So show us what makes him worthy of being followed and revered beyond his lineage and the power he was born with. Don't tell me they just mindlessly worship him for his title and strength. What has he done to earn their respect and loyalty? What makes him fit to rule over them? Surely not just noble blood?

Instead of telling us about Malleus’s greatness, how about we actually get to see him show how great he is? No magic, no physical prowess. Put him in a tough situation where he cannot handwave the problem away and force him to use his brains to come up with a creative solution on his own. We kind of got a glimpse of this in Master Chef/Culinary Crucibles, since Malleus was not allowed to use magic for the course, and that was just small stakes. I would like to see more scenarios like this which force Malleus to confront issues and to think outside of the box. This would help us see how he fares on his own, how he thinks, and how he reacts when he cannot rely on magic as a crutch. Who is Malleus without his magic? That's what I want to know.