#The Midas Plague

[thoroughfvre]

" . . . i keep waiting for things to get better and all i get is disappointment in return . "

[fn-devilles]

All That Glitters Isn’t Gold...

@fortnite-rosso-and-company

The fire crackled as it nestled among fine masonry and wrought iron. Its soft yellow-orange glow bathed the lounge and everything that resided there in warm hues. Vaude traced a gloved finger around the rim of the crystal tumbler he held onto for dear life. He stared at the graceful calligraphy-styled "M" that was etched on the side in gold, praying that this was all a bad dream. He tore his gaze from it after another moment of silence ticked by. His eyes settled on the tall, slender man before him, a man he loved unconditionally for years.

Midas side-eyed Vaude as he felt the smaller man's stare bore into him. He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the fire. He idly took another sip from his crystal tumbler, one that matched Vaude's in every way.

Vaude continued to stare at Midas, watching the way the fire's light danced across his sharp features and gave his pale skin an ethereal quality. Even the way the orange parts were reflected in the man's golden hands was mesmerizing. He would have called the golden man that stood there, with his back now slightly turned away, handsome, godly even. Vaude swigged the last of his drink down in an attempt to stifle his mounting anxiety. After a few deep breaths, he broke the silence.

"How long has it been since you fell out of love?"

Vaude gripped the tumbler tighter. The leather of his glove creaked, threatening to split at the well-worn seams.

"Be honest with me, Dominic," Vaude murmured.

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Poop Crystals

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)  

The pace in which human technology progressed over the millennia was rather standard for a class 4 species. Even when accounting the periods of scientific degradation which resulted from natural plagues or religious persecution; it was expected that humans would not achieve advanced space travel until another 2-3 thousand years had passed.

Scientifically speaking human scientists were well more advanced than the society they lived in, but due to the technological limitations of the human race they were held back from implementing their designs. A primary limitation was the lack of a sufficiently powerful power source. They did have many different forms of power generators ranging from solar to nuclear, but to power larger machines often required equally large energy sources. To power their ships alone around a third of their vessels were dedicated to the power cores.   

With these restrictions in place travel between stars for humans often relied on decade long journeys in cryo sleep; which ironically required even more power generators to maintain. Their large size made them easy targets for natural disasters such as space debris or prowling space pirates seeking an easy profit margin at the slave markets. These dangers became a standard for human travel until the Terran civilization encountered the planet Nolla 987 and the species that called it home.

During a long duration colonization trip the human ship “Midas” was struck by the trail debris of a rogue comet and knocked off course. The robotic caretakers tried their best to maintain the course, but with the damage done to the ship their primary programming to maintain the lives of the crew kicked in and diverted the ship to the nearest habitable planet for debarkation. Nolla 987 was the closest planet with a stable atmosphere. Originally charted several years earlier but deemed unsuitable for colonization or industrial expansion, it was not ear marked for either and left alone; until the Midas incident that is.

The landing was not a smooth one. Several engines had been damaged and multiple hull breaches resulted in portions of the ship being shredded away during the entry process. It would be safer to say that the Midas crash landed during the final stretch of the maneuver, but with a 73% survival rate of the crew a rather acceptable crash landing.

One by one the crew and colonists were unfrozen to find the ship a burning wreck and only a handful of robotic assistants still functioning. The industrial printing machines were relatively undamaged but without the ships power core they could not be used to print components or tools needed to make the necessary repairs. The crew was then forced to ration its remaining power supply and divided into two teams. The first team would comb through the wreckage and salvage what they could of the wreck while also building shelter. The second group would scout the surrounding area for anything of use and then report back.

It did not take long for the second team to stumble upon a nest of the dominant species of the planet. An insectoid called the “Sectar” which ranged from the size of a house cat to as large as a two story building. These insects digested their food and excreted the waste into a dense crystalian substance that they then used to build massive hive like complexes.

The occupants of the hive had been driven from the hive by the crash landing of the Midas leaving it almost completely empty save for a few eggs and new hatchlings who were not strong enough to flee on their own. Several of the second team members had been scanning the crystal structures while interacting with the newborn Sectar’s. To quote a journal entry of one of them, “They were like insect golden retrievers. Extremely derpy with at least four times as many sets of eyes. They followed us around on their legs like we were their mothers and clung to our legs when we began to return to our ship for the night.”

At least one of the second team was confirmed to have brought a hatchling back to their camp. There was a debate amongst the survivors on if they should try and eat it, but the notion was quickly squashed as they still had food reserves and no one was brave enough to see how the alien’s bio matter would react inside the human digestive system.

The same human who had brought the hatchling back offered it a portion of food which it eagerly ate. Not long after the hatchling excreted a hardened crystal roughly the size of a thimble. When the human made to pick up the seemingly beautiful gem they recoiled as an electrical discharge shocked their hand. This immediately drew the attention of the rest of the crew who began carefully examining the crystal substance. After some rather rough jury-rigging, the crystal was wired into one of the printer machines and to the surprise of everyone powered the machine. The crew quickly learned that the older Sectar’s would produce larger crystal excrements but were extremely hostile and territorial. Smaller Sectar’s were deemed more desirable for the time being as they were easier to train and harvest crystals from.  

Within a matter of days the crew had not only collected enough crystals to power all of their machines and send out a distress signal, but also used the new found crystal power to create a full settlement on the planet complete with water filtration, crop fields, and a sizeable wall to keep out the native wildlife.

It would not be for another thirty years before a passing human shipped picked up their distress signal and went to investigate the planet. When they arrived on Nolla 987 they were astonished to find a fully functioning colony complete with limited orbital facilities. Nearly every human settler and their descendants had a Sectar in their household that they would take care of and feed and in exchange use their crystal excrement to power nearly everything they needed to live.

From there it was only a matter of time before the entirety of human space was aware of the events of Nolla 987 and the Sectar species. Within the decade the colony on Nolla 987 became the capital for a fully settled world with dozens of cities and communities. The Sectar species were transported throughout human space and began being implemented in all aspects of society.

There was initial resistance to the new power source by existing power blocks which realized Sectar power would be far more efficient than nuclear powered engines, but unlike other power sources they had squashed in development the Sectar power option had thirty years of trial and error to back it up with research as well as a fully functioning model with the planet of Nolla 987.

Sectar’s became a common sight on every human planet and were treated like common pets. It was even studied that when introduced to different food sources the energy output of crystal excrement could be increased resulting in certain food industries booming overnight. The composition of spices, cooking technique, and flavoring became an entirely new and highly prestigious academic field with the most successful of its practitioners being highly sought after by companies.

The technological capabilities of humanity experienced a massive surge in advancement within fifty years to the point humans no longer needed cryo ships to travel between stars. Those who had been studying humanity found themselves now being introduced to them as humans winded up on their doorstep with a Sectar on their shoulder and a perverse obsession with collecting its bodily waste.    

[dawnholde-if]

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

╔═══════《✧》═══════╗

WELCOME TO DAWNHOLDE

INSTITUTE FOR THE ARCANE

╚═══════《✧》═══════╝

Dear [REDACTED],

Hello, and thank you for applying to the Dawnholde Institute, located in Solador, Land of Eclipses. We're pleased to offer you acceptance to the Institute as a first-year student. During your time here, you'll strengthen your specialty magic, as well as branch out to other types to diversify your skill set. We boast the top magic programs in the land for students, with fulfilling extracurriculars and a competitive environment designed to help every young mage and magician thrive, as well as students from a variety of backgrounds as a testament to the diversity of our world.

We look forward to your arrival, and hope that your years with us will be filled with enlightenment.

Praise be to the Sun,

Eruless Chromavere, Head of Magical Studies

You are the firstborn child of the Monarch of the island nation of Sparia, located in the treacherous Sacred Sea. You're set to inherit the throne once the current Monarch has passed on, but you could want nothing less. Becoming the greatest mage in the land is your end goal, so one night you flee to Solador, home to the Dawnholde Institute for the Arcane, the best magic school in the realm. It's been your dream to go there ever since you were young.

Keep your identity hidden to stay out of prying eyes and out of the way of your parent's spies trying to bring you back. Make allies and enemies while keeping up with your studies, join a club (or not), and... fall in love ? That's not part of the plan, but things happen, just don't let it distract you.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary and choose your pronouns

Decide which magic to specialize in, be it elemental, healing, object manipulation, or a number of any other kinds.

Meet 6 RO's, 3 of which are gender selectable

Take lessons in various magical subjects on your quest for greatness

Academic Rivals to Friends (to Lovers ?)

There is a dragon guy :)

Summon one of 4 familiars

Avoid the drama that plagues all schools

Name: Finch K. Lorelai

Pronouns: They/Them Heritage: Half-Elf Magical Specialty: Necromancy Year: 2nd Brief Description: Finch comes from a long lineage of necromancers, is widely considered one of the only child prodigies to come out of that field, and possesses the ability to speak to the dead. They're ambitious and your self-proclaimed academic rival. They don't like sharing the top spot and is antagonistic towards you, even more so if they learn your true identity. The lines between disdain and affection are very fine, however, and there's the possibility to sweep their feet out from under them when they least expect it.

Name: Desily Bramblecove

Pronouns: She (default)/They (selectable) Heritage: Faefolk (Pixie) Magical Specialty: Shapeshifting Year: 3rd Brief Description: Desily is a difficult spirit to pin down, often doing what she wants when she wants to. She loves playing hard to get and causing general uproar, then slipping away to let others deal with the aftermath. She's fickle, even for a fae, but obsessive. If you're not careful, you may fall into her grasp without even realizing it. If you so choose to spend time with her, be prepared to partake in any schemes she may cook up.

Name: Merrick Midae

Pronouns: They (default)/He/She (selectable) Heritage: Merfolk (Anglerfish) Magical Specialty: Light Manipulation Year: 1st Brief Description: A shy, not-very-little merperson who came to land to study all manners of magic. A jack of all trades, Merrick is a little good at most magic, but they wanted to learn more about what was beyond the sea. They're not the bravest, but they'd do anything for a close friend. Perhaps they'll take a liking to you.

Name: Caidrith, Ruler of Rime

Pronouns: He (default)/She/They (selectable) Heritage: Draconic Royalty Magical Specialty: Ice and Temperature manipulation Year: 4th Brief Description: Caidrith, or simply Caid, as you know him, is the only person at Dawnholde who knows of your past. Caid is the second-born to the rulers over northern dragonkin. Though his chances of accquiring the throne are low, it's better to be safe than sorry. He enrolled in the school to learn self defense, then stuck around for the people. You've known him since childhood, as your parents often had strategy meetings together. He can be stoic, but you know Caid cares for you, though maybe not in a way you know of.

Name: Rycharde, Knight of the Tainted Lands

Pronouns: He/Him Heritage: Catfolk Magical Specialty: Protection and Healing Year: 3rd Brief Description: Rycharde hails from a plague-ridden kingdom on it's last legs. Catfolk are usually able to use magic due to distant Fae ancestery, but Rycharde has no innate magic. Instead, he draws on the patron deity of his city for his power, making him a magician instead of a mage. He's proud of his failing homeland and devoted to his city, but that's not the only thing he could turn his attention to. After all, temptation is one hell of a motivator.

Name: Cere Quicrow

Pronouns: She/Her Heritage: Manifested Air Elemental (Birdfolk appearance) Magical Specialty: Divination Year: 1st Brief Description: Cere takes the form of a birdfolk, but is a manifested elemental in reality. She takes great pride in her appearance and is quite vain, but hates being the center of attention and keeps to herself. She's flighty and a perfectionist, leaving herself conflicted on what she really wants, be it freedom and impulsive decisions or to finish her "secret project." Maybe she'll let you in on it if you're nice to her?

DEMO [TBA] \\ CAST LIST [TBA] \\ ASKBOX \\ DEV DISCORD \\ CARRD [TBA]

[willtheweaver]

Random writing prompts

• Reverse King Midas: everything you touch turns to plastic or used chewing gum.

• The house is in fact haunted. Both you and the ghosts aren’t on the best of terms, but now you must team up and save the house from a greedy developer.

• What is life like for the courier who has to deliver all the letters from ‘a friend’ or ‘mysterious benefactor’ to random adventurers?

• The chess pieces start a revolution! How are you supposed to play now that the royal pieces have been done away with?

• Love at last sight

• “So we saved the world…”

“Now what do we do?”

“Become the Big Bad for the next hero to defeat?”

• You are shunned by other sirens because you are mute.

• You’ve been accused of several murders. You try and convince the police that you’re innocent, insisting the culprit is your sleep paralysis demon.

• Time continuity agency now faces their biggest challenge: a rouge time traveler messed with the timeline by eradicating smallpox and the plague. What is the ‘right’ choice?

[apixieindreamland]

There's a lot of victim-blaming within loa due to two transparently false and damaging beliefs. The first is "Everything Is You Pushed Out," which logically leads to the second conclusion that "Everyone Is In Their Own Reality."

I differ with most of the loa community in the belief that EIYPO, and instead believe that everything we see is God, and every person we interact with is an individualized conscious being who is also God and able to manifest things themselves. Since I don't believe EIYPO or in individual universes, I don't believe that all the negativity in the world is caused by any given individual. According to the logic of people who DO believe in that, they'd have to say that a newborn infant who can barely open its eyes has already manifested all the atrocities of the world it was born into, including things which happened before she/he was born: the Holocaust, the Salem Witch Trials, the Black Plague, the volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 CE, and many other things it can't even 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦 of.

And yet somehow, everyone else manifested the same exact world with literally 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 numbers of identical details, despite having vastly different assumptions, beliefs, and thought patterns. Quite the coincidence. 🙄

We can't seem to manifest things like laser-beams coming out of our eyes or a pet dragon, but our individual consciousnesses are simultaneously meant to be responsible for 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 in the world, including things we've never heard of or weren't even alive to witness?

If you don't know about it already, I'd like to introduce you all to a concept called "Toxic Guilt":

"People with toxic guilt may blame themselves for events or situations beyond their control, or feel responsible for other people's feelings and actions. Toxic guilt can lead to self-blame, self-punishment, anxiety, depression, and shame."

To all those who were told that they manifested their own mental illness or abuse: does this concept sound familiar? The loa community drowns people cruelly, positively waterboards them, in a sense of 𝘐𝘕𝘍𝘐𝘕𝘐𝘛𝘌 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘗𝘖𝘕𝘚𝘐𝘉𝘐𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘠 which they 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴!

We are not responsible for 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 that happens to us or to the world at large. We are NOT the only conscious being in the world. Other thinking, living, acting, manifesting facets of God are here with us and each of us is responsible solely for what we think, say and do!

Let me be very clear:

Infinite responsibility only comes with infinite power, and it is abundantly clear by our many failed manifestations that we do NOT have infinite power.

Think of ALL the wild things we want and can not seem to bring into this realm (probably due to limitations set by the Godhead Itself to make sure that everything works properly), such as the ability to sprout wings or turn things to gold à la King Midas. These are relatively TINY displays of power compared to controlling our entire reality, yet we can't manage them. So why are we claiming infinite responsibility for every detail in the universe?

Drop any idea that you "manifested" whatever tragedy you've suffered in your life, especially if it was at the hands of another person. That is NOT your burden to carry, and it was never your fault or responsibility. The theories that this idea was built on are as unstable as a house of cards, and they topple down the moment they're examined closely, even though loa bloggers keep scrambling to rebuild them. They're 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦. Free your mind from this dogma and be at peace.

[evecolourshock]

《 from @first-frost-fallen-snow hehee Emerick my silly! Made this one short since he's just chilling in his room all the time 》

Emerick was, as he usually was, sitting alone in a cell. His father had not yet visited him. He hadn't for a few days now. Emerick was used to that, of course.

He hummed a song to himself, sitting in the corner of his room and picking at the stitching in his skin.

Eve skittered through the security system, dodging what guards there were - not that there were many actual Programs here, seemingly all automated. She shuddered reflexively - too similar to how Yori had described the MCP's rule. But. Alan had asked her to investigate this weird research lab in the back end of nowhere after they'd proposed a business partnership with outright concerning statements about victims of that horrific plague her humans had been lucky to escape. She would not fail.

Midas had a vaccine, she reminded herself. And a treatment plan - humans were hardy, and Alan had been given permission to research how to cure the bizarre and lethal disease with Encom's powerful Medical Programs leading the fight. The parts that were lost to the disease were gone, but what was left could be salvaged - and even recover, if caught early enough.

The research files she'd already... appropriated spoke of a subject. Just one, with a strange mix of condescending fondness and clinical description of their reaction to... Eve wasn't sure. There were a lot of words there she hadn't understood, all medical jargon, but Midas had sworn a blue streak when he'd seen it so probably nothing good.

She wanted to find the subject. She didn't know if she wanted to find them alive or not.

The cells netted another shudder - no matter how clean, how pretty, a cell was a cage to hold people. She peeked in through the sensors (why were there sensors, prisons didn't invade privacy this much), and oh.

Oh no.

She was pretty sure she'd found the subject.

"Oh little one." Eve murmured softly. "Who tortured you like this?"

[accordingtolauren]

11/19/22 (I regret you.)

I don't think I'll ever lose you.

A nameless presence haunting every faceless name I meet

Vilified by my own doing as their own soft touch reminds me of the scars you left in the shape of golden fingertips

A faulty Midas touch that brings forth pain to everything it graces

And though I was far too innocent

A bright-eyed youth plagued by a burnout so bright

That sent everything but you up into flames

I hate myself with every fall of ash upon the bed we'd lie within

Made up by predatory lies and societal fails and my pink baby blanket i'd never part with no matter how far your hand would creep beneath my dress

Now, I just want to drown into ultraviolet light

Screaming along to a poetic angst in an electric key

And i've been hurt with the might of a rapture that has taken everyone but myself and has sentenced me to an eternity in hell with nothing but a mirror and my thoughts where you you still freely roam

A permanent nightmare behind closed eyes

No one will put up with my bullshit anymore

And it has been so long since i've been touched

Or better yet, heard by another empathetic body

Kicking salt into the wounds you have left with those big brown boots you'd always wear

I flounder in the garden of Eden

Plotting a rage only known by those fooled by the notions of love

Phasing in and out of memories i've never lived

A mechanism i've mastered as a substitute to living in a world where you may wander

A world cursed by your presence is one I will never want to know.

-lauren a.p

[piepiepiemag]

What Glitters Isn't Mine

Golden Gear Midas (Fortnite) x Young(er)!Montague (Fortnite)

Summary: midas is worried sick about accidentally turning his not-so-obvious crush into gold the first time they share a bed. surely nothing will go wrong

Tags from AO3: Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Horror (???), Touch Starved Midas (Fortnite), Touch Starved Montague (Fortnite), Midague, Proofread (barely), Trans Male Character, Trans Montague (Fortnite), Trans Midas (Fortnite), T4T Midague Real

thank you to my duo for always showering me with plenty of ideas to write about!! <3 this one could work as a standalone story, but i recommend reading (Lighthouse) for full context!

Sleep has always been one of those commodities Midas could rarely afford. He  tended to stay up late into the night and wake up around daybreak, running on 5 hours of sleep and an unhealthy amount of caffeine in his system.

It’s gotten significantly worse ever since he got a noisy roommate, who preferred to stay up even later than him, then proceed to sleep through the entire day. He couldn’t get too mad at him for it though.

Montague had it a lot more rough. His vision was healing far slower than his other wounds, and he’s been plagued with nightmares since the day he laid hands on that cursed relic. He never told Midas about it, but it was quite easy to tell. 

Most nights Midas would wake up to the sound of him suffering and crying deep in his sleep, all alone on the living room couch he used as a bed. He would wake him at times like this, but it slowly got to the point that Montague would rather sleep during the day when Midas was busy elsewhere. He didn’t want to be a nuisance, he was already staying there rent free after all.

Midas could tell something was wrong even if Montague never spoke about it. He shut himself away most on days, cooking and cleaning to spend his time productively, then latching onto Midas’s Xbox for comfort.

Midas was worried, but he never asked. He didn’t ask him about that night, the night Montague came crawling to his house, bloodied up and on the brink of death. He didn’t ask about the amulet he decided to wear so close to that strange scar over his chest, the one right above his heart. 

He didn’t want to bother him, thinking that he would open up with time, when he was ready.

The amulet was concerning, they knew close to nothing about its properties, besides being able to heal people fast, and turning the blood around Montague’s wounds into crystals one time. It was a complete mystery to both of them, but Montague insisted on wearing it at all times, even though he couldn’t explain the reason why.

Montague was hard to read in general, but Midas was getting better at guessing what his actions would mean if he put them into words. Cooking and cleaning probably meant something like “thank you for letting me stay here”, and so on.. This night was no different.

“It’s cold in the living room..” - montague said as he opened the door to Midas’s room. He looked exhausted, even though it was only 1 am. In his arm he was clutching his blanket, looking like a scared child who  just saw a monster under the bed.

The gears were turning in Midas’s head, he could vaguely figure what this was about. He was probably just tired and didn’t want to sleep alone.

“Yeah..” - he replied, shuffling around in his bed awkwardly. A sleepover was honestly a pretty terrible idea..

With Montague around, his golden touch was near unmanageable. Pots, pans, plates, silverware, bedding, the couch, even the fridge had to be replaced by this point. He couldn’t exactly figure out why he was losing control this easily.. Well, he had a pretty close hunch, he just didn’t want to admit it outright.

Either way, he didn’t want him to stay, not in the slightest. Just the thought of it was making him queasy, his fists balled up, focusing on not turning his bedsheets gold with every fibre of his being. 

“You can sleep here if you want.” - he blurted out without thinking, mentally punching himself in the face in the process. 

He’s probably scared of having nightmares again. What kind of asshole would let him stay alone like this..

Montague nodded, quietly walking up to the bed and throwing his blanket down. He began undressing and Midas could feel his blood run cold.

“You haven’t been sleeping in that, have you?” - the question came out far more accusatory than he intended it to, the tone reminding him of his own mother’s. He felt disgusted. 

“Ugh maybe..” - Montague said as he looked down at his binder, fiddling with his hands. Even though Midas brought him 12 new pairs as a consolation gift, he still decided to wear that silly lemon pattern hand me down all the time. The one he was given by Midas the first time they truly met. 

It was kind of sweet, Midas’s heart would always skip a beat whenever he caught a glimpse of it, peeing out from under his shirt. 

“You really shouldn’t you know.. it’s real bad for your health and-“ - midas was so ready to start his lecturing, telling him all about the safety precautions he needs to take and stuff, but he was interrupted.

“You want me to take it off?”

The question hit him like a brick to the face, the room suddenly felt a lot more hot than it did before, and he could feel gold spilling over from his hands, onto the blanket below.

Just how the hell did he get into this?

“I-“ - he began, stopping himself immediately. Yes, he wanted him to take it off, but not in a weird way. More-so in a “hey friend who i like a lot, please don’t destroy your ribs while you sleep” type of way. Nothing more. Nothing less. He started again. - “Y…yes?”

“..whatever..” - Montague muttered, his face visibly flushed as he began to peel the fabric off of himself. Midas looked away immediately, but not fast enough, catching a glimpse of him in nothing but his boxers and that relic around his neck.

This was bad. Real bad. So bad. 

When he was done, Montague climbed into the bed, cozying up in his blanket on the other side of the bed.

Midas’s worst fears were slowly coming true as he felt more and more drops of gold spill from his hands. He wiped them off on the bedsheet not so nonchalantly. If this kept up he would run out of bedding.

He was not going to turn anything to gold. Not his sheets. Not the bed. And most definitely not his-

His blood froze the moment Montague scooted closer to him, quietly draping his arm around Midas’s torso, his face inches away from his chest. He could feel Montague’s warm breath on his skin, quickly forming goosebumps all around.

They cuddled before on the couch, at times when Montague had his nightmares, but it was never like this. Those only lasted until Montague fell asleep again, and they were all dressed up. This felt more than friendly, almost intimate. And while he wouldn’t have minded it in any other situation, right now Midas was mortified.

He took a deep breath as he folded one shaky arm over Montague, strategically placing it over his blanket. Midas could see the man’s lips curl into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and he made sure to etch it into his memory.

It was nice. He wished they could always sleep like this. The only sound he could hear were the crickets outside, and Montague’s breathing getting slower and slower by the minute, him falling asleep not soon after.

Midas’s eyes were getting blurry, sleep threatening to take over him, but he just watched as Montague clung to him, his eyelashes fluttering occasionally, his face more peaceful than he’s ever seen before.

He was stupid for feeling like this, but he was beginning to like his roommate more than what you would consider friendly. He would never admit it though, it was clear to him that Montague was not interested. At least that’s what he got from it, him being so hard to read and all.

In a moment of bravery Midas raised a hand and swept it over the man’s hair, ruffling his locks softly. It was fine. Everything was fine. He kept petting his hair with a smile on his face, almost getting lost in his beauty.

Midas was stupid, but it was fine. Just for a short while Montague was his, and that was enough for him. Admiring him like this was more than enough.

Midas’s eyelids slipped shut more and more as time passed, even as he tried to stay awake and be in control until-

Montague screamed, so loud that Midas immediately jumped, confused for only second, as he caught a glimpse of glistening gold under his fingertips, intertwined in his hair.

“Wha- Stop! It hurts!” - Montague gasped and heaved as the gold began to spread, spilling over from his hair, onto his arms and back. 

“W-Wait! No! Please-“ - midas pulled and yanked on his arm but it wouldn’t budge, it was like his fingers melted into the flesh of the man next to him. 

Montague cried and trashed around in horror only for a short while, within mere seconds his muscles began to freeze up, the gold seeping into his bones and rendering him near unable to move. All he could feel was an overwhelming amount of pain and terror, he felt like his body was on fire and freezing in an ice cold lake at the same time.

Midas tried with all his power to stop, to at least slow it down or reverse it somehow but nothing was working, he grabbed his arm with his other hand but it also began to weep gold, leaving him unable to movie as well. He tried to calm Montague but it was all in vain, he couldn’t even calm himself.

The room was filled with their wails of despair until the gold finally fully overtook Montague. He suddenly stopped all his sounds, staring up at Midas, his eyes full of fear and hate as gold dripped down his face.

“WHY!?”

 “Please- I’m sorry I- Stop! No-“ - midas cried out as he tried to free his arms, glistening gold spilling out from them more and more with each passing second. Montague’s whole face contorted from the pain, his jaw looking almost unhinged as he screamed and screamed without stopping for a second. Then gold fully overtook him, silencing him as his expression remained frozen in absolute terror.

Midas stared at him in horror, before shutting his eyes, crying and screaming at the top of his lungs for help, any help, until he felt someone shake him by the shoulders.

Blue and brown eyes greeted him, inches away from his face.

“You kicked me in your sleep..” - montague stared down at him, his face back to normal, completely unharmed. Despite his cold words he had an awfully worried expression on his face.

It took Midas a moment to realise what just happened. He looked down at his hands, looking just like they did before. 

He almost felt stupid about it, before lunging forward, hugging Montague as close as he could. He was startled for a second, but he still ended up draping his arms around Midas, pulling him even closer. 

“Sorry.. I had a weird nightmare..” - midas mumbled as he buried his face in Montague’s shoulder. He never felt more relieved before in his life.

“Yeah.. i figured..” - montague replied, softly petting Midas’s hair with one hand. Guess their score was settled now.

[cutiedwaekki]

puppym detective

why so curious ? why so serious ?

summary: follow the adventures of detective seungmin seeking to solve the mystery lurking around the city. The Harem of Midas as some people call it

contain : fluff/angst , kidnapping, manipulation, dark feederism, forced feeding, forced weight gain, mention of violence, happy ending

Welcome to my biggest project ✨️ for those who have been following me for a while, you know that last year I tried to realize this same project in the form of a story but I had difficulty separating the story into chapters and that quickly gets disorganized. so here I am again with a new story, a new plot but more fun 🤭

enjoy ♡

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The city of Seoul was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere, marked by fear and uncertainty. The once lively streets were now deserted as soon as night fell. Residents avoided poorly lit areas, fearing they might become the next victim of a series of mysterious abductions that were spreading terror throughout the city.

Among those fighting to restore peace and security was Seungmin, a determined young detective. His dark eyes and confident stride reflected his determination to put an end to the nightmare that had engulfed the city.

But behind this facade of determination lay a deep wound. Seungmin was the son of a respected lawyer, whose career had been destroyed by a devious frame-up, ruining his career, his honor and his family

The injustice had forced his father to abandon his family, leaving Seungmin with a sense of abandonment and betrayal that haunted him day and night. This betrayal had profoundly marked Seungmin, fueling his passion for justice and strengthening his commitment to fight against injustice in all his forms. It was this same passion that drove him to fight relentlessly to solve the mysteries of the serial abductions plaguing the city.

At the heart of this battle was his best friend, Changbin, the only one who could make him feel that this world was not as gloomy as it used to be. The only one who made him see life in color. The two men had been inseparable since childhood, sharing everything from laughter to tears. To say that they were just friends would be a lie, but both of them knew why they didn't become more.

Changbin was the opposite of Seungmin in appearance—short in stature but incredibly muscular, with a contagious smile and an innocent demeanor that hid an unyielding inner strength. Their friendship was more than just a relationship; it was an indestructible bond forged in the fire of life's trials and challenges. Seungmin and Changbin knew each other better than anyone else, supporting each other through the highs and lows of life.

It was them, Seungmin the crazy one for justice, and Changbin the crazy one for Seungmin

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On a rainy evening, Seungmin and Changbin met in a small café at the corner of the street, illuminated by the soft glow of the hanging lamps. The wooden chairs creaked softly on the tiled floor as the two friends huddled in a secluded corner, escaping the turmoil of the city that roared outside. This was where Seungmin felt untouchable, as if when he was with Changbin, the world paused. Criminals turned good, the unjust were recognized, and there was a sense of perfection. The sweet smell of almond milk emanating from his curly hair, his pout when he wanted something. All of this drove him crazy.

Seungmin distractedly watched the steam rising from his coffee cup, his mind tormented by dark thoughts swirling around. Changbin, sitting opposite him, silently observed the television, his face marked by worry and sadness.

"BREAKING NEWS: Bang Christopher Chan, a music producer from JYP Entertainment, has been reported missing. Surveillance images revealed..."

This kind of news had a way of frightening Changbin. Physically, he knew he looked robust and strong, but deep down, he was very innocent, a bit naive, remaining the eternally scared high school student who had just built armor over the years.

But Seungmin knew his friend well. He knew his feelings, his fears; he read him like an open book.

Thus, he took his hand and rubbed it to reassure him before adding:

"Trust me, Changbin. We will find him," declared Seungmin firmly, his eyes shining with unshakeable determination.

Changbin gently nodded, his dark eyes reflecting fragile confidence. "I know, Min. But... but I'm scared. Imagine if it happened to one of us? I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

Seungmin softly placed his hand on Changbin's, offering him an encouraging smile. "You don't need to worry about that. I'm a big boy now, and besides... you're here too, those muscles must be good for something." He lightened the atmosphere as he affectionately pinched his arm, making the elder, who was quite ticklish, giggle.

Seungmin had turned off the TV; he didn't want Changbin to be anxious at every announcement of a kidnapping or disappearance. This was also the purpose of his detective agency. He did the work that the police bungled. He provided answers to desperate families. Even when the news was bad, they felt lighter. Lighter to clarify a situation, not to hope for years for nothing. Allowing them to grieve.

In the city, Seungmin had gained the reputation of a renowned detective; everyone knew his story, that of the detective who would tell you what the authorities would not.

Who would have thought that these series of kidnappings would mark the beginning of a new investigation for him?

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"A message for your fans, Hyunjin?" asked the journalist.

"Be yourself, you are all wonderful ! I lovr you guys !" Hyunjin said, looking directly at the camera and making several hearts with a gentle smile. He loved complimenting his fans; that was his claim to fame. The former singer turned model had amassed a solid fan base that supported him through all the trials of his life. It was clear that he could only love them, right?

"And cut! Good job, Hyunjin. You can head home."

Hyunjin's warm smile quickly faded to an exasperated expression. He snapped his fingers, calling his multitude of assistants to attend to him. "What a humiliating thing you have to say to make money," he muttered as he sipped his iced Americano.

This was the real Hwang Hyunjin. A self-centered celebrity who thought only of himself, his career, and how to make his fans spend as much money as possible for him.

Yet, in his three years of career, no one had unraveled the mystery. Everyone feared the power of the great Hwang Hyunjin. Who would the media believe—a country’s favorite artist, the soul of pure youth, the bridge between the old and new generations, or staff members who could be harassed at the slightest misstep?

Hwang Hyunjin was detestable and yet admired. What was his secret?

"Damn it, it's raining. This will ruin my hair!" he complained while on his phone. Today, he had fired his driver for looking at him in a way he deemed "not respectful enough." Thus, he found himself making the journey home alone, muttering various insults about the weather ruining his day. Perhaps he acted this way because he couldn’t admit he could lose everything overnight?

The rain pounded against Hyunjin's apartment windows, matching the oppressive silence in the room. It had been a long but rewarding day. Hyunjin had just finished a photo shoot for a major clothing brand, which ended with an interview for the brand.

But as he closed the door behind him, a furtive presence caught his attention. A dark shadow silently slipped behind him, and before he could react, he was pinned against the wall, a powerful hand covering his mouth to prevent him from screaming.

Hyunjin's heart pounded in his chest as he desperately struggled, but his assailant was much stronger. With inhuman strength, the stranger overpowered him and dragged him into the darkness.

When Hyunjin regained consciousness, he found himself in a dark and oppressive room, tied to a chair. Fear gripped him as he peered into the surrounding darkness, desperately searching for an escape from this nightmarish situation.

Suddenly, a flickering light illuminated the room, revealing a blurry figure standing before him. Hyunjin's heart raced as anxiety gripped his mind.

"Who... who are you?" he stammered, his voice trembling, eyes desperately seeking answers in the darkness.

The figure remained silent, simply offering him a bowl of food. Hyunjin shook his head vigorously, refusing to succumb to the fear that threatened to overwhelm him.

"Eat," ordered a deep and sinister voice, breaking the heavy silence in the room. "I'm a fan, you know? I really like 'ice.cream,' it's my favorite song," said the captor in a voice that didn't seem reassuring.

Hyunjin shivered with fear as the captor approached him, the bowl of food in hand. He closed his eyes tightly, silently praying that this was just a terrible nightmare from which he would soon wake.

But when he reopened his eyes, he found himself face to face with his worst nightmare come true. The captor forced the food into his mouth, cutting off his breath and eliciting a muffled cry of terror.

In a dark corner of the room, Hyunjin felt the weight of his own fears adding to the burden of the ties that kept him prisoner. Every second spent in this suffocating darkness seemed like an additional burden on his already weakened shoulders. But as the tension mounted, he could feel the mocking gaze of his captor settling on him, savoring every moment of his distress.

"Look at you," mocked the captor in a scathing voice, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. "Soon, you'll be as big as a whale, all thanks to me."

The words echoed in the heavy air of the room, filling Hyunjin's mind with unspeakable terror. He felt the poison of fatphobia seeping into his thoughts, every syllable uttered by his captor weighing on his already tormented soul.

"I won't let you do this," he murmured weakly, his eyes burning with fierce determination. The captor laughed, approaching him and shoving one of the pastries into his mouth. "I didn't ask for your opinion. You are mine, you are my toy, and I will mold you as I please."

As the captor continued to delight in his distress, Hyunjin, who once praised his fans, found himself trapped. Was this his karma? He felt like the weight of his actions had brought this upon him.

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In the dim light of his apartment, Seungmin was distractedly tapping on his keyboard, immersed in his files, while Changbin, sitting next to him on the couch, was flipping through a newspaper.

"Have you heard about what happened to Hyunjin?"

Seungmin barely looked up from his screen, shaking his head with indifference.

"Yes, I heard. Maybe it's just rumors. Besides, I never really liked that guy, he seems so fake. Maybe he's playing a prank to ride the wave of the recent kidnapping buzz."

"I don't know, Seungmin. Hyunjin isn't the type to make tasteless jokes. He's always serious about his work."

Seungmin shrugged, turning his gaze from the screen to his friend.

"Maybe, but you know how people are. They like to dramatize things."

Changbin squinted, a worried look crossing his face.

"I don't know, Seungmin. This seems serious to me. Maybe we should investigate, just in case."

"You're always so dramatic, Changbin. I'm sure everything's fine. Stop worrying about nothing... But since you insist, if we don't hear anything about Hyunjin in two days, I'll start investigating, alright?"

But despite his reassuring words, a small seed of doubt began to grow in Seungmin's mind. And as he returned to his files, he couldn't help but wonder if Changbin might be right after all.

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A few days later, still no news of Hyunjin, and a third kidnapping was reported: Han Jisung, a final-year musicology student. Seungmin found himself sitting in his office, his mind tormented by guilt and doubt. He was deep in thought when his phone rang, breaking the silence of his apartment.

"Hello?"

The voice of a complete stranger to Seungmin resonated on the other end of the line, filled with palpable urgency.

"Is this Detective Kim? I'm sorry to disturb you, my name is Lee Minho, I'm Han Jisung's partner. I'm in a desperate situation , I don't know what to do. I need your help as a detective."

Seungmin was taken aback by Minho's direct request. He couldn't help but feel a hint of suspicion towards this unexpected call, but the distress in Minho's voice sounded genuine.

"I know you don't know me, but I'm willing to do anything to find Jisung. Please, help me."

Seungmin felt hesitant, but he couldn't ignore the call for help from someone so desperate.

"Okay, I'll help you. Where do you want to meet?"

Minho gave the address of a local café, and Seungmin agreed to go there immediately.

"I'll be there in thirty minutes. Don't worry, we'll find Jisung."

After hanging up, Seungmin felt both intrigued and wary. He didn't know what to expect from this meeting with a stranger, but he was determined to uncover the truth about these recent disappearances and to help this unknown person.

Seungmin headed to the café indicated by his caller, his mind buzzing with anticipation and curiosity. He wondered what awaited him and how he could help a stranger find his missing partner. Upon entering the café, he was quickly spotted by the person who had contacted him, sitting at a table near the window, looking anxious and tense, who invited him to sit.

Minho stood up hastily upon seeing Seungmin approach, hope lighting up his face as he extended his hand.

"Thank you for coming, Seungmin. I really need your help."

Seungmin sat across from him, observing the man before him closely. He could see the pain and distress in the poor man's eyes, and it touched him deeply.

"Okay, let's start from the beginning. Tell me everything you know about Jisung's disappearance."

Minho then explained the circumstances surrounding Jisung's disappearance, nothing too difficult, he had gone one evening to buy ice cream at the grocery store next to their house but never came back. The surveillance cameras had filmed the culprit putting a piece of cloth over his mouth before running away from the cameras. strangely this culprit seemed to like cameras because we found a lot of videos of his kidnappings but we never knew how he made them appear and disappear without leaving a trace.

As Minho was talking , his voice was trembling with emotion as he recounted the last moments spent with his partner. Seungmin listened intently, taking mental notes and asking questions to get more details.

After hearing the entire story, Seungmin promised Minho that he would do everything possible to find Jisung.

"I'll start investigating right away. Don't worry, we'll do everything we can to find him."

A palpable relief washed over Minho, his shoulders suddenly seeming less burdened by the weight of uncertainty.

Seungmin nodded, determined to solve this mystery and bring Jisung back safely. Even though they didn't know each other, he was willing to do everything to help Minho in this investigation, which seemed much deeper than it appeared.

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Seungmin started investigating. The videos of the kidnappings were always filmed from a single camera, as if the kidnapper wasn't afraid of being caught. He appeared and disappeared from the cameras once his plan was completed. Always late at night, targeting only young men in their twenties. It was because of this that the newspapers began calling this case the "Midas Harem Case" because he only took rich, influential, and very handsome men. Chan had influence over the company and the music world. Hyunjin could influence the entertainment world, and Jisung, through his engagement to the prominent lawyer Lee Minho, was untouchable.

He was deeply immersed in his investigation, meticulously examining every place, every detail, every clue overlooked by the police. He was so absorbed that he was startled when he heard his doorbell ring, snapping him out of his pseudo-trance.

"Changbin? I thought he was with his parents," he thought as he walked slowly and curiously to his door. He looked at the intercom and saw no one. No one except for a large box. Seungmin was cautious; he had already been tricked once with a fake basket of grapes.

However, this one contained a note and various snacks. He checked every corner of the hallway, searching for who might have left it, but saw no one.

He took the basket and brought it inside, reading the note on it:

"Thank you for finding Hyunjin oppa. On behalf of the Jiniret fanclub, we encourage you to find our oppa ♡"

So, they were fans of Hyunjin? It was true that Minho had mentioned his name in some newspaper articles, which didn't bother Seungmin; it gave him publicity. And in this case, a reason to take a break and eat some of the snacks.

He didn't expect to finish everything in one evening, surprising himself as he looked in confusion at his now hard and swollen belly.

"I can't think straight when i'm too full , i should rest a bit" he said, rubbing his stomach as he closed his laptop, deciding to take a shower.

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As Seungmin delved into his investigation, determined to solve the mystery surrounding the disappearances, he decided to visit the locations where the kidnappings had taken place. By chance, he ran into Jeongin, a former classmate from police school. Seungmin had dropped out during the year, while Jeongin had continued. He had always admired his perseverance and childlike smile. The two men hadn't seen each other for years, but Seungmin still remembered the camaraderie they had shared during their studies.

Jeongin, with his friendly face and warm smile, approached Seungmin enthusiastically.

"Seungmin, it's you, isn't it? It's been so long!"

Seungmin nodded, a smile forming on his face as he recognized his old classmate.

"Yes, it's me! It has indeed been a long time. How are you? What are you doing here?"

"Listen, I know it might seem strange, but I want to help you. All these murders, these kidnappings... it's scary. I don't want to live in a city where insecurity reigns. I think that with my connections in the police, I could really help find the missing people."

Seungmin was initially surprised by Jeongin's offer, but he sincerely appreciated his old classmate's willingness to lend a hand in this delicate matter.

"Jeongin, that's kind of you. I wouldn't want to take advantage, but I admit a little help wouldn't hurt. It's almost impossible, as if the culprit knows every corner by heart. I could really use your help. Let's do this together."

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So, Jeongin started working with him on the investigation. It seemed quite promising, they had solid leads. With Minho who allowed them to obtain easy arrest warrants, Jeongin who had all his police knowledge, Changbin and his physical strength and finally Seungmin who led the investigation, they were going to find the culprit one day. on ! right?

The only thing that bothered Seungmin was these strange deliveries that he received several times a week. always baskets full of treats, signed under Hyunjin's fan name who was probably trying to bribe him to find the actor faster. but apart from causing him a stomach ache three times a week and making him struggle more to put on his pants it didn't really help move the investigation forward.

“Nothing forces you to eat everything” Minho had told him once but Seungmin didn’t know why, he could never stop.

It had become a bit like a sign for him to take a break. The more the days passed, the more he patiently waited for these deliveries which were a sign of a well-deserved break for him.

"If you continue you'll become a chubby puppy" Changbin had teased once, pinching her cheek affectionately.

while Jeongin (who was in the same room) retorted "stop don't say that hyung, he's really cute like that, don't you think?" making Changbin blush and stammer out an excuse before walking away.

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But one day, Changbin contacted Seungmin with a promising lead on the culprit. He insisted on meeting immediately to discuss the details.

"Minnie , I've found something important. We need to talk right away. Can you meet me at the cafe near your place?"

That was the message he had received that caught his attention

Seungmin, deeply engrossed in his analysis, felt torn between the need to meet Changbin and the importance of his ongoing work.

"Changbin, I'm sorry, but I have a crucial analysis in progress. I can't get away right now. I'll send Jeongin in my place. He'll explain everything."

He didn't bother waiting for Changbin's response, believing he would be able to convince him to come even though he couldn't. so he sent the address of the cafe to Jeongin saying "Changbin has information about the investigation, can you go see him please?" before turning off his phone and preparing a pot of ramen.

Certainly it was his second drink of the day but this investigation, its lack of evidence, all that stressed him out and food had become his source of comfort for the moment. He doesn't even have time to go and see Changbin anymore. he no longer even remembers the moment when the two of them had discussed without it having any connection with the investigation.

a surge of melancholy passed through him. he sighed long before returning to his desk with his pot of ramen in one hand while with his other hand he rubbed his stomach, slightly surprised to see that it was rounder and plumper than usual.

"Binnie's right, I let myself go a little too much... but at least at the end of the investigation I could accompany him to the gym... ew I'm sweating just thinking about it" he said. focusing back on his computer

A few hours later, Seungmin received an alarming call informing him that Changbin had also disappeared. The news shocked him so much that he dropped his cup, spilling its contents on the floor.he could barely breathe, his heart was beating a thousand miles an hour, he wanted to shout at Jeongin, ask him how dare he not protect Changbin. he also blamed himself for not having responded seriously enough to Changbin for not having moved himself. suddenly tears beaded on his face. Changbin... Changbin... He was everything to him. His first friend, his first best friend, his first crush, his first kiss... why him?

Meanwhile, Changbin faced his captor, unable to speak as he was force-fed. As the tension mounted and the danger grew increasingly palpable"Did you really think you were going to reveal my identity to others so quickly? We'll see if you'll be able to speak when you're covered in grease" said the kidnapper as his laughter echoed in the room.

On the other hand , Seungmin slowly realized the gravity of the situation, their world cracking under the growing pressure of darkness.

the investigation had taken it to another level, he was not going to let this person hurt Changbin, not while he was alive

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Following Changbin's disappearance and Chan's shocking media appearance, Seungmin's investigation into the kidnappings took an even darker turn. Seungmin and Jeongin found themselves alone, navigating the murky waters of the case, with their determination as their only compass in the growing darkness.

In Seungmin's cramped office, the walls were covered with photos, maps, and notes, every surface a silent testament to the detective's growing obsession with the case. Jeongin was always there, steadfast as a rock, providing unwavering support and sharp intelligence every step of the way.

From time to time, Minho joined them, offering his help and support selflessly. His presence brought a bit of light into the darkness, reminding Seungmin that he wasn't alone in his fight against the shadow.

But despite all their efforts, the case seemed to slip through their fingers, every lead a dead end, every clue a false trail. Frustration grew, but Seungmin refused to give in to despair. He knew that to solve this case, he had to stay strong and persistent, no matter the obstacles in his path. And with Jeongin and Minho by his side, he was determined to find the truth, even if it led them into the heart of the dark.

The worst was when he received a message from Minho, telling him to watch the news where a video was playing in a loop, that of the kidnapper, Midas as the media had nicknamed him. He wore a black mask and had doctored his voice. he spoke directly to Seungmin ordering him to stop his investigation immediately or else Changbin would not survive. followed by a video of Changbin, crying his eyes out while he was handcuffed to a chair, he desperately called Seungmin while the kidnapper shoved a donut into his mouth. He was a mess, tears, traces of food around his mouth. Seungmin could easily see that he had gained weight and couldn't imagine what the other victims must have looked like.

“Is it bad if I am a bit reassured?” Minho had said. after all at least that meant that the others were alive right?

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It was over time, many sleepless nights, that Jeongin came up with a hypothesis of a culprit.

"Is it just me or this guy always appears in the videos before the kidnappings? as if he spotted the places before"

Minho then leans into it and then said "it's true that it's weird, In should look on it.”

thus their first reliable lead was born. After all now everyone knows that the victims of Midas' harem were fattened so I might as well be looking for something related to rigtht?

so when suspicion turned to Lee Felix, owner of a bakery who was not far from all the crime scenes, everything seemed logical. he had managed to escape police questioning, but not that of Kim Seungmin.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

This is how he and Jeongin headed towards the BbokAri bakery, run by Felix while Minho was looking for a way to get a warrant so the police searched his bakery.

“Remember, he’s not necessarily guilty, we’re just having an informal visit” Seungmin muttered. usually he was fair and rational but since Changbin's disappearance he has become completely crazy, seeking only one thing, and that is to find him.

So they entered the bakery while the sound of a bell signaled their presence. “Hello, what can I do for you?” Felix then asked with a sweet smile.

"I'm Detective Kim, I'm investigating recent kidnappings, could you speak alone if he kidnapped you?"

Felix was led away, he looked at Seungmin perplexed before replying “okay.. follow me”

"Where were you on the night of the kidnappings?"

Felix, initially calm said"I was here, in my bakery, as usual. You can ask my employees; they'll confirm it."

Seungmin noted this response but felt something was off. Felix seemed increasingly nervous as the interrogation went on.

"Have you noticed anything suspicious near your bakery in recent days?"

"No, nothing in particular. Why do you ask? Do you think I'm involved in these kidnappings?"

Seungmin felt a pang of frustration at Felix's defensive attitude but kept his cool. However, just as he was about to ask his next question, Felix had decided otherwise.

Felix, with an ironic smile said"Tell me, detective, maybe you should cut down on pastries. You wouldn't want to end up looking like one of the victims, would you?"

Surprised and irritated by this remark, Seungmin suppressed a sigh. It was clear that Felix was trying to divert attention from himself by attacking Seungmin on a sensitive subject.

"We are here to conduct a serious investigation, sir. I ask you to fully cooperate."

Felix shrugged, a mocking smile still on his face.

"Of course, detective. But you'd better watch your figure. Who knows what all these excesses could do to you."

Seungmin gritted his teeth, refusing to let Felix's remarks unsettle him. He knew they had to stay focused if they wanted to solve this case.

After finishing the interrogation, Felix turned to Seungmin with a syrupy smile.

"Well, detective, since you're here, why not take the opportunity to try one of my delicious pastries?"

Seungmin, though wary, nodded politely.

Seungmin: "Why not? I'll have... this one."

He pointed to a chocolate cake, then sat at a table to enjoy the pastry.

Meanwhile, Felix watched Seungmin with amusement, his smile widening slightly.

Felix: "Be careful not to overindulge, detective. You wouldn't want to have trouble fitting into your detective suit, would you?"

Seungmin, though annoyed by the comment, chose to ignore it and focus on his pastry.at least he could note the way Felix behaved. strangely he hadn't done anything suspicious but was still staring sideways at Seungmin as if he was holding back something.

After finishing, he stood up and politely bid Felix farewell, but the teasing exchange left a bitter taste in his mouth.

As they left the bakery, Seungmin promised himself to keep a close eye on Felix, convinced that there was something fishy about his behavior.

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In Seungmin's office, the three men discussed different possibilities for advancing their investigation.

Jeongin, poring over the notes on the desk, suddenly straightened with a spark of excitement in his eyes.

"What if we focus on Felix? He's always around the kidnapping sites, delivering pastries or talking to customers at key moments. I'm telling you it's him"

Seungmin and Minho exchanged significant glances, recognizing the relevance of Jeongin's suggestion.

"You're not wrong he was very suspicious when i come last time but we don't have any proof against him"

Jeongin nodded, his thoughts organizing rapidly.

"It's worth exploring this lead. We could monitor him closely, see if he acts suspiciously or has strange interactions with people around him."

Minho nodded in agreement, adding his approval to the proposed strategy.

"This could be our best chance to make progress. And if Felix is involved somehow, we need to find out before he can do more harm."

Seungmin, impressed by Jeongin's determination and the logic of his reasoning, made a decision.

"Alright, let's start there. We need to be cautious and methodical in our approach. Every little detail counts."

They then got to work, devising a plan to closely monitor Felix while continuing to search for other clues.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

The hours were past, it was getting late. The three of them had investigated for hours, deciding to take a rest and have a drink together to unwind.

As the night wore on and the hours passed, the tension in the bar gradually dissipated, giving way to a deeper intimacy among the friends.

Minho, letting out a sigh, took a sip of his drink before speaking with emotion.

"Sometimes, I feel like I'm going crazy thinking about Jisung... It's like every minute without him is an eternity."

Seungmin nodded empathetically, understanding his friend's torment.

"I know exactly how you feel, Minho. But we have to stay strong, for Jisung and for ourselves."

Then, the conversation naturally drifted to more personal confidences about their romantic relationships.

Minho, with a melancholic smile, recalled the first moments shared with Jisung.

"Jisung and I met in college. It was one of those life-changing encounters, you know? He had this look... so warm, so sincere. I love his look, always filled with life. Without him I-I feel like I don't have any reason to get up in the morning, I just want to see him again, hold him in my arms... I-...sorry, it's hard to continue." he said as tears began to stream down his face as Seungmin handed him a tissue.

Jeongin, listening attentively, decided to share a more intimate aspect of his own love life thus allowing Minho to stop thinking about Jisung for a moment

"As for me, I've never dared to make the first move... I've always been attracted to chubby men, but I'm too shy to tell them. In olus with the midas case I risk even less doing meetings without looking like an obsessive" he said before giggling, causing a little general laughter at the table.

Seungmin, absorbing his friends' confessions, momentarily lost himself in his own thoughts.

"You know, when we were teenagers, Changbin and I made a pact... We promised that if neither of us were in a relationship by the age of 30, we would marry each other. It was kind of a joke back then, but now... it makes me think."

As the discussion progressed, Seungmin found himself plunged into his memories, reliving every moment spent with Changbin. A strange mix of emotion, regret, and desire overwhelmed him as he realized the depth of his own feelings

Seungmin, taking a short pause, looked at his friends with eyes lit by revelation.

"I think... I'm in love with Changbin."

The ensuing silence was heavy with meaning, as each of the three men absorbed this confession with deep reflection. Once again, their lives seemed poised on the brink of change. After sharing these moments of intimacy and reflection, a wave of relief seemed to envelop the three friends. Laughter echoed through the bar, temporarily dispelling the dark clouds of the investigation hanging over them.

Seungmin, Minho, and Jeongin exchanged knowing looks, acknowledging the strength of their friendship in difficult times. It was as if, for a brief moment, they had found respite in the warmth of their camaraderie.

Then, as the evening drew to a close, Jeongin broke the silence with a spark of intensity in his eyes.

"Listen, guys. I think we should focus our efforts on Felix. He's always where the kidnappings happen, and something tells me he's not as innocent as he claims."

Jeongin's words were met with resolute nods from Seungmin and Minho. They knew this was a lead worth exploring, a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the investigation.

Thus, with a final surge of determination, the three friends rose from the table, ready to face the challenges ahead. Their laughter still echoed in the air, carrying a silent promise: together, they would find the truth.

In this atmosphere charged with hope and resolution, Jeongin turned to his friends with renewed conviction.

With these words, they left the bar, ready to face the unknown that awaited them. The night was still young, but they knew their friendship would guide them through the darkness, toward the light.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

"Seungmin, it's Minho... Something's happened. Felix... he's disappeared. I don't know what to do, I...

Minho's words were lost in a stifled sob, and Seungmin felt his heart painfully tighten in his chest. Felix, their main suspect, had been kidnapped as well. This news plunged him into an abyss of confusion and uncertainty. What should he do now? Who could he still trust?

A week had passed since Felix's disappearance, plunging the investigation team into a whirlwind of uncertainty and suspicion. Seungmin found himself increasingly perplexed, his thoughts swirling in inextricable chaos. He couldn't help but feel a deep unease at the thought that Jeongin, his old friend, might be involved in these horrific kidnappings.

why him? after all, he was the one who accused Felix, the one who knew where Changbin was. he was there the day Seungmin started investigating. maybe he was going crazy but everything was starting to seem clear to him. Jeongin was suspicious.

Meanwhile, a subtle but significant change began to take place in Seungmin. He had noticed his clothes becoming increasingly tight around his waist, while his cheeks took on a slightly rosy hue. Every movement became an effort, every meal a trial, but he couldn't help feeling powerless against this unexplained weight gain.

As Jeongin continued to bring him snacks during their long hours of work, Seungmin began to feel a twinge of suspicion. Each sweet seemed like a sneaky trap, a temptation disguised as a gesture of friendship. But despite his growing doubts, Seungmin forced himself to believe in Jeongin's innocence, refusing to let his suspicions overwhelm him.

One day, while they were immersed in the case files, Seungmin got up to get some water. He looked at himself in the small sink mirror, struck by the image it reflected. His face was rounder, his cheeks plumper, and he could feel the fabric of his shirt stretched tight against his skin.

A shiver of anxiety ran down his spine as he realized the extent of his physical transformation. he hadn't just grown, he had swollen in the space of a few weeks, as if something or someone was secretly making him fat. It was then that he was surprised to think that his shirt fit him well despite the fact that he had gained weight. he was surprised to learn that it was a size larger that someone had exchanged without him even knowing it. he felt like an idiot, stupid to think that he had fallen into the trap of the kidnapper. to believe that these pankers were innocent baskets.

He was disgusted, disgusted with himself, with the world, with everything.

"Seungmin is okay? You're taking a long time" Jeongin commented while Seungmin cleared his throat before muttering "I'm coming"

Back at his desk, Seungmin was met with Jeongin's inquisitive gaze. A palpable tension hung in the air as they exchanged looks laden with unspoken meanings

"Jeongin, I... I think I need to take a break from the snacks for now. I... I'm not feeling very well."

Jeongin nodded, but Seungmin could see a flicker of concern in his eyes. He wondered what that expression hid, but he didn't dare ask.

Meanwhile, Minho watched the scene with deep concern. He had noticed the subtle changes in Seungmin and had begun to suspect that something was wrong. But he kept his thoughts to himself, not wanting to sow discord within the already fragile team.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

As the days passed and the investigation seemed to stall, Seungmin found himself increasingly plagued by doubt. The clues all seemed to point to Jeongin, but he refused to give in to his suspicions. However, deep down, a small insistent voice kept whispering that maybe, just maybe, he had been wrong from the start.

The next morning, Seungmin woke up with a knot in his stomach, a feeling of anxiety that engulfed him whenever he thought about the kidnappings. He hurried to get ready and headed to the precinct, where a mountain of files already awaited him.

As he tried to focus on his work, a shrill ring broke the silence of the room. It was his cell phone. He picked up, and Minho's panicked voice rang out on the other end of the line.

"Seungmin , i got a picture of midas , you shoukd come and see it ... but don't tel anything about it to Jeongin"

He hung up, his gaze lost in the void as thoughts swirled in his head. He was now faced with a difficult choice: continue following the leads pointing to Jeongin, or trust his instincts and explore other avenues. But in this oppressive darkness, one thing was certain: time was running out, and every minute counted.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Seungmin's heart races in his chest as the puzzle pieces begin to fit together in his mind. He fixes Minho with an almost feverish intensity, absorbing every detail, every clue bringing him closer to the truth. And deep down, a terrible certainty takes root: Jeongin was the culprit.

The photo, although of poor quality, made it possible to clearly distinguish Jeongin among one of the videos taken on the day of Changbin's kidnapping. he had struggled for a long time, allowing part of his face to be seen before disappearing with Changbin.

He had a sudden urge to vomit. so it was jeongin all along. They had both worked with the one who was making them suffer. Did he console them when they loved their loved one even though he was aware that it was all his fault? He had deliberately led them on a false trail, made them go around in circles, while he played innovators during the day and fattened his victims at night. Seungmin watched in shame as his stomach peed against his shirt.

It was Jeongin's fault too. how could he? The problem was that they couldn't blame him like that. the video was not clear enough to be plausible proof and it was better to make Jeongin believe that he was still thinking about it while he came up with a plan to catch him.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

"Where were you Minnie? I was bored! Don't you want to go out to eat? I bet you're hungry" were the words Jeongin said as soon as Seungmin returned to his office. he could no longer see him normally. he had considered him as a friend, a brother, how had he dared?

But he had to pretend, while he and Linho found a better solution.

“Not tonight Jeongin, I’m not in the mood” he said, avoiding his gaze.

"It doesn't matter, we can order if you want, you're still hungry at 5 p.m., I'll order you some fried chicken." Jeongin then took out his phone when Seungmin took it from his hand in a panic before saying

"No! I mean , I find myself a little too chubby these days, I think I'm going on a diet, don't you think?" But Jeongin lost his smile again before responding

"Don't say that hyung you are beautiful the way you are, I would say that all this weight suits you really well , your curves are just so tasty" these compliments sounded bad coming from Jeongin and Seungmin held back from vomiting in the moment. he wanted to run away, run away from him.

"why aren't you looking at me hyung? don't tell me you saw something you shouldn't have seen?" Jeongin's tender smile made him slightly madder, he grabbed the hands of the detective who pulled him back just as quickly, unwittingly revealing that he knew everything.

“Oh hyung, believe me, I would have liked things to end differently, but you leave me no choice…”

“What... do... you... mean?" his vision became blurry, he only realized late that Jeingin had just injected him with something.

"A good thing you're very fat, you didn't feel anything" he laughs madly as Seungmin passes out against his will

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Seungmin finally discovers the truth that lead Jeongin to captures him and ties him to a chair. Jeongin reveals his diabolical plan, how he diverted Seungmin from him while secretly fattening him up.

The chair creaks under Seungmin's weight, his clothes tight on his bloated body.

In the stifling darkness of the room, Seungmin feels the coldness of fear seep into his veins as he realizes the extent of Jeongin's betrayal. His trembling fingers grasp his cell phone, typing an urgent message to Minho, his last hope.

"I'm in danger. Do something. Quickly."

Then, before he can send the message, Jeongin emerges from the shadows, his chilling smile tearing through the oppressive silence.

"Who are you contacting, Seungmin?" he asks in an icy voice, his piercing eyes penetrating Seungmin.

Seungmin clutches his phone in his hand, his heart pounding in his chest. "I was warning you, Jeongin. You can't keep doing this. The police will come, and you will be arrested."

Jeongin bursts into a sinister laugh, his steps echoing ominously in the room. "Oh, Seungmin, you are so naive. Do you really think the police can stop me? You forget you're already in my clutches."

With a swift movement, Jeongin snatches the phone from Seungmin's hands, crushing his hope with a cruel gesture.

"Now, enough talking," Jeongin says in a merciless voice. "It's time for you to pay for your sins."

Seungmin swallowed hard, overwhelmed by a mix of shame, anger, and despair. He realized the extent of Jeongin's manipulation, how he had led him to his downfall, trapping him in a snare he never saw coming.

"W-why?" he finally stammered, his voice trembling under the weight of humiliation.

Jeongin slowly rose from his chair, taking a few steps towards Seungmin, his piercing gaze cutting through him like a blade.

"Because I always wanted you for myself, Seungmin. You are the embodiment of perfection, and I wanted to possess you, to control you. And now, look at what you've become."

A shiver of horror ran down Seungmin's spine as he realized the depth of his error, how his loyalty to his former comrade had blinded him. But despite the terror flooding him, a glimmer of determination shone in his eyes. He refused to be a pawn in Jeongin's sadistic game.

"You won't break me, Jeongin," he declared, his voice filled with defiance, the resolve to confront him burning in his eyes. "No matter what you do, I will find a way to escape. And when I do, you will pay for what you've done."

Jeongin let out a sinister laugh, reveling in Seungmin's distress. "Oh, Seungmin, you are so naive. You have no idea what awaits you. But for now, let me feed you. There's still so much time for you to become perfect."

And as Jeongin's cruel laughter echoed in the room, Seungmin realized with horror that his nightmare was far from over. But even in the darkness of his despair, he knew he would never stop fighting for his freedom and justice

Seungmin was lying on a cold table, his wrists and ankles firmly bound. He had lost all sense of time. Hours? Days? Maybe even weeks had passed.

The room was dimly lit, only by the flickering light of a lamp above him.

Suddenly, the door creaked open. Jeongin entered, wearing a white coat and an enigmatic smile on his face. He walked over to a complex machine and pressed a few buttons.

A hum filled the room, and Jeongin turned to Seungmin.

"Are you hungry, Seungmin?"Seungmin, weakened and exhausted, responded with only a faint groan. Jeongin approached him with a bowl of food.

"Come on, open your mouth," Jeongin said in a soft, almost mocking voice.Seungmin obeyed, feeling the food slide down his throat. Jeongin played with his stomach, gently pressing here and there.

"Look how well you're filling out," Jeongin murmured, with a hint of satisfaction.

"You've grown a centimeter since the last time. Well done."

Seungmin closed his eyes, trying to ignore Jeongin's hands probing his increasingly full belly.

Another day, Jeongin returned with a new, more substantial plate of food. He sat next to Seungmin and began feeding him relentlessly, spoonful after spoonful.

"Just one more bite, Seungmin. Just one more," he repeated tirelessly.Seungmin felt the tension in his stomach, each bite bringing him closer to the limit. Then, suddenly, there was a crack.

He looked down at his belly to see that his shirt had split under the pressure."Ah, now that's interesting," Jeongin said with a laugh.

"Look how big you've gotten." Jeongin stood up, satisfied with his work. Before leaving the room, he turned to Seungmin one last time.

"Keep it up, and soon you'll be perfect," he said with a cold smile.Seungmin, at the end of his strength, could only watch the door close behind Jeongin, his words still echoing in his head.. he still remembers when he went out saying "next time it'll be your chair" before laughing hystically and walking out. Seungmin was hopeful. he knew that not far away was Changbin and the other victims but he was stuffed with food all day that he didn't even have the strength to scream for help anymore.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

Seungmin was lying on the cold table, barely conscious, when the faint sound of sirens pierced the oppressive silence. His heart quickened, a flicker of hope igniting within him.

The door to the room burst open with a force that sent it crashing against the wall. Jeongin, who had been preparing another injection, froze in shock. Several police officers stormed in, their guns drawn and flashlights cutting through the dim light.

"Freeze! Put your hands where we can see them!" one officer commanded, his voice firm and authoritative.

Jeongin hesitated, his eyes darting between the officers and Seungmin. He knew there was no escape. Slowly, he raised his hands, the syringe clattering to the floor.

Two officers moved swiftly to restrain him, forcing him to the ground and handcuffing him. Jeongin didn't resist; his enigmatic smile was gone, replaced by a look of resignation. Minho, who had led the police to the hidden facility, rushed into the room behind them. His eyes scanned the scene, relief flooding his features as he saw Seungmin alive, though clearly weakened.

"Seungmin!" Minho shouted, running to his side. "It's over. You're safe now."

The officers quickly set about freeing Seungmin from his restraints, their movements efficient but gentle. Seungmin’s wrists and ankles were sore and bruised, but he felt a surge of relief as the cuffs fell away.

As Jeongin was led out of the room, he glanced back at Seungmin.

"This isn't over," he muttered, but his voice lacked its usual menace.Minho stood protectively by Seungmin’s side, watching as Jeongin was escorted away.

"Yes, it is," he said quietly, more to himself than to Jeongin.Medical personnel entered next, assessing Seungmin and the other victims, providing immediate care. Seungmin’s vision blurred as tears welled up, the reality of his rescue settling in.

"You're going to be okay," Minho assured him, squeezing his shoulder gently.

"We got here in time, thanks to a tip-off."

"Who?" Seungmin asked weakly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"A former victim who escaped," Minho replied. "They gave us the information we needed to find this place. You're safe now, and so are the others."

Seungmin nodded, exhaustion overtaking him as he was lifted onto a stretcher. The room was a flurry of activity, police and medical staff working together to ensure everyone's safety. The nightmare was finally over.

Outside, the fresh air hit Seungmin’s face as he was carried to an ambulance. He caught a glimpse of Changbin, who was already being attended to, his face a mixture of relief and concern. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Seungmin knew they would both be okay.

Thanks to Minho, the police arrived in time. Jeongin was arrested and all the victims were saved.

Changbin, once muscular, stood timidly in front of Seungmin, embarrassed by his changed body. Seungmin was not shocked by his weight gain. He embraced him, telling him how much he missed him and confessed his love.

Changbin hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. His eyes were filled with a mix of relief and uncertainty. Seungmin gently lifted Changbin’s chin, looking into his eyes with unwavering affection.

He wrapped his arms around Seungmin, holding him tightly. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt a sense of peace.

“I missed you so much, Seungmin,I was so scared when he told me you were there too” Changbin whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

Seungmin held him closer, feeling the warmth and strength in Changbin’s embrace. "I missed you too. More than you can imagine."

They stood there for a moment, savoring the reunion, until Minho approached with a warm smile.

“It’s good to see you both together again,” he said, placing a hand on Changbin’s shoulder. "You have a lot of healing to do, but you'll do it together."

Changbin nodded, his confidence slowly returning. "Yes, we will. Together."

But while the two friends found each other, further away, Minho was anxiously watching Jeongin's house, seeing each victim disappear one by one.

And to think that Chan, the first victims had managed to escape, he couldn't believe seeing Felix who had gained around twenty kilos, or even Hyunjin, this unrecognizable singer.

but as soon as he saw this familiar face of his fiancé he almost ran towards him calling him "Jisung-Ah" before jumping into his arms and hugging him hard. he was at least grateful to see that he wasn't hurt.

But the poor one was traumatized and had gained a lot of weight. He no longer looked like the healthy fiancé he had known. he was now so fat that his hat only covered his chest and his once-thin waist was marred by his double belly which hung only above his pair of shorts. and yet, in Minho's eyes, he remained the most beautiful in this world.

"Don't.. don't look at him like that Min...I'm disgusting" Jisung tried to push him away but could barely use his arms.

While Minho tightens his embrace before adding "You are the most beautiful in my eyes and you will remain so, I missed you Sungie I'm sorry for not being able to protect you, I promise you that you are finished now"

Jisung smiled tenderly at him as the two exchanged a tender kiss.

｡ﾟ(ﾟ＾∀＾ﾟ)ﾟ｡

The following days were filled with recovery and support.

The victims received the care they needed, and Jeongin’s sinister activities were thoroughly investigated by the authorities.

Seungmin and Changbin spent every possible moment together, rebuilding the bond that had been strained but never broken.

One evening, as they sat on the balcony of Seungmin’s apartment, watching the sunset, Changbin turned to Seungmin, his expression serious yet hopeful.

"Seungmin, I've been thinking. Life is too short and unpredictable. I don't want to wait until we're 30 to be together. Let's start our life now, just as we are."

Seungmin smiled, his heart swelling with love and determination. "I was hoping you'd say that. Let's not waste another moment. We have so much to look forward to, and we'll face everything together."

Changbin took Seungmin’s hand, their fingers intertwining as they looked out at the horizon. The future was uncertain, but they knew one thing for sure—they would face it side by side, with love guiding their way.

"Can i kiss you?" Changbin asked shyly while Seungmin blushed as he brought his face closer to hers. their bodies, given their mass, were already pressed against each other, all that was missing was their lips which were licking between each other so that the two of them became one.

It was intense , magic , just like they werre finginf the missing piece of their life

Wel this investigation taught Seungmin one thing. There was no justice everywhere, but everyone received the treatment and judgment they deserved. Now he had a reason to live his life to the fullest

And that reason was called Changbin

[king-midas-fortnite]

Journal Entry: 00

This entry is a prequel of sorts to everything that's happened. Midas writes about one of his first nights after escaping the Underworld, and a new ability he discovers.

I have been home on the Marigold for all of about a week. While I am overjoyed to be back in the company of my crew, my family, something inexplicably terrible happened tonight. Something I’m struggling to make sense of.

I am far from free of Hades and his torment. I hear his taunts and the haunting voices of all the souls he allowed to goad me constantly. I feel their hands on me while I try to rest, gripping at my arms and throat like they are trying to drag me back every time I feel sleep finally come to me. When it does come, it’s less than an hour before I’m waking myself from dreams of everything I endured in my imprisonment. Horrific memories of the visions the shades plagued me with, along with the ever present memories of my daughter.

Even with all of this, I thought at least that I was physically free. I got out. I’m back. I’m alive and surrounded by people I care for, and who I know now without a doubt return the sentiment. But…I was wrong. I am out, but the underworld has not left me. It’s left behind a rot in my soul that I doubt I’ll ever be able to shake.

Earlier this evening, I surrendered my attempts to sleep and poured myself a few drinks. I’ve been doing that a lot more recently. I’m not proud of it, but there’s not much else I can do. Sometimes if I have enough, it blocks everything out just enough for a brief bit of rest. Anyway, I’d taken a bottle to my office, and had been sitting at my desk for who knows how long. I tried to get some work done, finish remaking files lost to the flood, but I couldn’t. The aforementioned voices of souls dammed to Hades’ domain were louder than usual. Instead of drowning them out, they got worse the more I drank.

The things they say to me…I don’t particularly want to write them down. Maybe someday I’ll be able to forget them. If I’m fortunate enough for that to happen, I don’t want a record to remind myself here. They’re horrific. I think that should be sufficient enough an explanation.

I’m sure—I KNOW, they are just hallucinations and these episodes will pass, but tonight was a nightmare. Usually sounding like a passing whisper or like they are speaking from another room, tonight they were far more corporeal. I could feel breath on my skin while they spoke to me. And again, their hands were all over me. It felt like they were trying to pull me out of my own body. I sat in my chair, holding my head and trying to fight against every instinct to flee where I was for so long as their whispering grew to screaming. If I didn’t know death would only mean returning to that place, it would’ve been a tempting option.

It all grew so loud, so intense and overwhelming that I finally screamed back for them to stop. At the same moment, I’d felt it. I couldn’t breathe. My chest was still. The cold chill of death settled quickly deep in my bones. I’d opened my eyes and shot up from my desk, knocking my chair back behind me while the gold skin of my hands turned the same sickly green of the Styx waters. I didn’t even have time to panic and wonder how I’d died again before I was falling down, passing through the floor underneath me as if it weren’t there at all. I opened my eyes again when my body struck the hard wood of the level beneath my office, completely knocking the wind from me.

When I’d reoriented myself and looked back to my hands, they were normal. My body was intact, gold and living flesh again. I’d stayed on the floor for a little while, staring up at the ceiling I had just phased through as I caught my breath. Eventually I stood and came back up here, confused…frightened. I stood at the doorway to my office a long while, staring at my desk. I don’t know why, or what could possibly possess me to try and recreate that feeling, but I needed to know if I could. Once I started hearing the whispers again, I latched on instead of trying to ignore them. I allowed them to start screaming, and I allowed the dread and cold of the dead to wash over me again.

I saw that wispy green enshroud the edges of my vision, and I stepped forward. Next thing I knew, I was across my office. I’d passed through my desk, and nearly hit the wall on the other side of the room before I was collapsing to my knees and sucking in breath like I’d been drowning. That’s what it had felt like. All over again it felt like being dead. My heart beat like a drum in my chest as it regained its rhythm, and air burned into my lungs as I felt heat return to my limbs.

After a moment I pulled myself up off the floor, fixed my chair, and sat back down where I am now. I have been up all evening, writing as the sun comes up just to try and get a handle on what’s happened. Whatever this new “power” is, I will not use it flippantly. I feel as though it has taken something from me already. If nothing else, a part of my sanity. I will never be free of Hades. Not completely, it seems. If that is the case, so be it. I’ll try to make use of this ability when it’s needed.

I just hope it never is.

Reminder: these are not "public" to other Tumblrverse characters. Okay to reblog, but please do not roleplay on journal entries!

[thatweirdomidas]

Midas' Music Monday #6

Where I throw out 5 random songs or songs that have recently been added and y'all get to tell me your favorite(s) or if one specifically resonated with you or reminds you of a character or story.

Reblogs are much appreciated 🖤🖤 also lmk if you wanna be tagged when I post these 😊

"I got so good at being untrue

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear

I disassociate disappear"

"They call me wild child

So what you heard about me?

Dangerous wild child

I know you heard about me"

"I'm sure you've heard my name before

Some people claim I'm old as time itself

In every plague, in every war

I've held your little hands and offered help"

"Switched up fast, falling like quicksand

Now I'm crossed, yeah, you made me mad

Sickly sweet, be my sacrificial lamb

Devil's child, got a death note in my hand"

"The only good god is a dead one

The only good cop is a dead one

The only good politician is a dead one

come on kids let’s string em up and keep em for ransom"

Full Playlist of all Music Mondays 🖤:

@pinksparkl tag for you 🖤

[euphoricfilter]

Devil That I Know (Part 8)

~ What Year Is It?

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! Reader

Genre: (Inaccurate) Historical AU || Strangers to lovers AU || Supernatural AU || Smut || Fluff || Angst

Summary: Jin brings a little more clarity into your life, only to step out of line when he finally brings up your situation with the demon that plagues the palace.

Word Count: 6k

Tags/ Warnings: mild angst, manipulation, unhealthy depiction of a relationship (jungkook is obsessed and it’s getting out of hand), a lot of lies but whats new, mentions of death, mentions of blood (brief), briefly mentioned arousal but nothing happens, the m/c is finally getting somewhere, mention of weapon/ implied use of said weapon.

Notes: it's back! finally! it took me a while because i honestly wasn't sure with the direction of this story but now i have up to chapter 13 fleshed out updates should hopefully be more often! maybe i won't promise a schedule if i can't keep up with it but this series is my main focus as of now so hopefully we can get through a decent chunk of the story! as always, feedback is welcome, encouraged even so feel free to tell me what you think! i did edit this twice but i honestly don’t know if it saved so if there’s mistakes, no there aren’t :’)

extra note: a lot of themes throughout this story are going to be repetitive, thoughts and feelings will be brought up throughout multiple chapters because the m/c’s memories will continue to get lost and so her thoughts/ feelings will often repeat as she repeats certain aspects of her life.

My full Masterlist

Devil That I Know Masterlist

+ + +

Memories are more often than not, volatile. Fragile like your grandmother’s favourite piece of fine china, where all it takes is one careless arm being swung to send it flying. Where shards scatter across the floor, shattered into more pieces than you can think to pick up. Little chips of forgotten ceramic hidden under furniture, only to be swept up and thrown out, never to be found again.

What was once a beautiful piece of art, never really fitting into one again; never truly whole.

A little like lost memories that had been forgotten in the abyss of our minds. A dark place that chews up memories that our conscious carelessly throws up; sweeping up space for new experiences, better ones, to over-shadow the bad that threatens to tickle our brain the wrong way.

Lost memories can be trailed back to several things, and in this odd instance, the four-armed demon who currently pulls a shirt over his head, as you watch from the chair on the adjacent side of the room was the one to blame for your predicament.

“You sure you don’t want to run with me?” Jungkook asks, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at you, before he bends down to tie the laces of his shoes; expectant that you’ll brush him off. You never had been into running he supposes, and no matter how many times he had bugged you about maybe trying even the easiest of work-outs—your health his top priority—you’d always just laugh it off. And that feathery light laughter always seemed like enough for Jungkook to stop whatever little argument he was trying to have with you.

You shake your head, even if your demon-friend wasn’t looking at you, “I’m okay. I think I might sleep a little more” you tell him, eyes flitting towards the leatherback notebook that you’d slung on the bed. Beside it, a pocketknife with an intricately carved handle that glimmers in the morning sunlight, that spills into the room through the open window; warming your toes in liquid gold. But even as sunlight pours into the room like Midas had touched the sky, you find yourself pulling the soft blanket tighter around your body, unusual chill titillating the skin of your arms towards the back of your neck.

“I can stay here, Doll” Jungkook turns to you, eyes swimming with worry. And emotion that had been etched into his features as of late. From the moment you’d woken up in the palace Jungkook’s brows had been creased in unease; but you hadn’t bothered to ask why. If you didn’t know then you wouldn’t have to worry about it. That, and you were more than aware of Jungkook’s habit of brushing you off when it came to his own emotions.

You doubt you had enough fingers to count each time you’d asked him what was wrong. Only for him to laugh it off like his eyes weren’t drowning in heavy emotions that tug at his shoulders, emotions that you believe no person should feel alone.

Jungkook liked to give more than he liked to take.

He liked to sit and listen to you tattle on for hours about the little worries you had in life, insignificant doubts morphing into you baring yourself practically naked before him, as you spill each and every insecurity you’ve ever had. But he never liked to sit down and talk about his own worries. Nor did he seem to find any sort of joy in being taken care of like he does for you.

Jungkook liked to tuck you into bed of an evening, sitting beside you to ward off any bad dreams that may slither into the room and plague your mind. But he never let you do the same for him. Maybe that was a bad example, because Jungkook didn’t need to sleep but you feel as though your point still stands.

Jungkook liked to feed you from his own spoon. Liked to pull you over his lap as he eases your lips open with a thumb, easily slipping a mouthful of food into your mouth on those mornings you feel a little too hazy to eat on your own.

Jungkook liked to hold you between his thighs after a shower, delicate wooden comb held between soft fingers as he combs through your hair with practiced ease; careful not to tug too hard. (And when he accidently would tug on a knot, you can only pray he wasn’t aware of the sticky arousal that coats the insides of your thighs).

Jeon Jungkook was an enigma. A little like an onion with too many layers to peel away before your eyes begin to sting and you have to sit back, deciding that maybe your meal would be just as good without the root vegetable. Because no matter how badly you wanted to add that onion into the meal, the pain just doesn’t seem all that worth it, so it feels as though you have no other choice than to just take a backseat while master chef Jungkook does all the hard parts, slowly, painfully revealing each layer he has in his own time.

Where each movement is calculated, planned before you can even think to ask him what you’re curious about. Jungkook was always trudging before you, a little too far away on a foggy day that you can’t quite see where he was heading, but you still blindly follow: because Jungkook looks like he knows what he’s doing.

You suppose it’s stupid, to sit around, oblivious. A little silly of you to just nod your head whenever he opens his mouth. Even on days like today when everything feels a little… off, you stay. Because what more do you have? Not much apart from the clothes on your back, that Jungkook had bought for you. And the room you’re stay in, Jungkook shared with you, or the food in your belly, that Jungkook always pays for. It seems a little silly to try and bite the hand that feeds you. A little selfish on your part, but anything to survive you suppose.

Jungkook. Jungkook. Jungkook.

All your mind could seem to fully comprehend was Jeon Jungkook. Perfect Jungkook who could never seem to do anything wrong in your eyes.

You don’t remember passing out. You don’t remember a new king. You don’t remember the hanok burning down to nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Just Jungkook.

He was there, from the moment you’d stepped into the Hanok. Every recent memory you had, Jungkook was there. Sweet Jungkook who could do nothing wrong. He had never hurt you; and you trusted he never would.

Jungkook always gave more than he took. He gave you so much, how could you doubt him?

You watch the worry in Jungkook’s eyes as he runs a hand through his hair. And you think maybe this odd feeling is guilt. You feel guilty, because for a split second you’d assumed the worst of the only person that has bothered to stay by your side like this. Jungkook always had had your best interest in mind, so why were you worrying so much?

“I’ll be fine” you wave him off, not wanting to take anything more away from him. Even if it were only a morning run, something you knew he enjoyed.

“If anyone knocks at the door, use that” he points at the pocketknife, “Actually, don’t even open the door” he points a finger at you, eyebrow raised, and you nod.

You watch as he cracks his neck, long legs carrying him towards the door in ease, “I love you”

You blink slowly at Jungkook, reminding him a little of a cat; echo of his voice bouncing around your mind. Love. The word leaving an awful tang on your tongue, prickly like the thorns of a rose. And maybe that was just love; a rose that looked elegantly beautiful, until you carelessly grab it by the stem and your hand bleeds the same red as the flower’s delicate petals.

Your lungs constrict, a phantom snake squeezing your organs as you forget to breathe for a moment.

“I love you” you call out when Jungkook opens the door, his smile unnerving as he blows you a kiss. When you hear the door click shut, the clutch the snake had on your insides evaporates into the air that now fills your lungs; shaky breath ricocheting up your windpipe.

‘These are yours’ is what Jungkook had said when he’d placed Taehyung’s leatherback notebook into your lap, pocketknife delicately placed on-top. You’re unsure of the sudden shake in your fingers as you had gently picked the knife up, what felt like a ping of lightning pricking the tips of your fingers as you trace the intricate flowers that wound up the handle.

‘Mine?’

‘Yes, don’t you remember? We planned to see all the things Taehyung couldn’t, the ones he has written in that book’ he’d pointed at the offending object, thin stack of papers bound by leather feeling more like a block of lead in your lap.

‘And this?’ the pocketknife.

‘I gave it to you just in case, remember?’

You didn’t remember. And that irked you a little, like an itch under your skin that you couldn’t get rid of, or wet feet in the freezing cold where your toes were numb but too sensitive all at once; hurting with each light step you take to the salvation of a warm home, that seemed to move one step back when you took one step forwards.

Whenever you felt like you were finally getting somewhere, finding your footing, the carpet was ripped from under your feet, and you fell back to square one.

You’d lied to Jungkook, laughed off his worry as you told him that you must still be sleepy. How could you forget a gift from your friend?

But now as you stare at the knife, your palms feel clammy, specks of blood coating your hands when you look down at them. When you blink, it’s gone, no traces of any blood on your hands; and you swallow thickly, wondering if maybe you really did need that nap, you’d told Jungkook you’d have.

You leave the weapon where it lays on the bed, creasing the freshly tidied sheets that Jungkook had tucked in an hour ago when you’d finally pulled yourself out of bed.

Instead, your fingers take a hold of Taehyung’s notebook, the familiar worn leather a comfort in your distress. This, you do remember. You remember the night you’d tripped over the painter’s bed and found the unfinished book. It’s a shame the Hanok had burnt down, although it would have been a breach of his privacy, maybe you could have scoured the rest of Taehyung’s books for more clues towards your hazy memories.

You weren’t sure what was wrong with you this morning, something crawling under your skin when you’d woken up.

You doubted it was a nightmare, Jungkook usually woke you up during those, holding you until he knew you weren’t going to sob into his shoulder. This wasn’t the feeling of a lingering nightmare, it was scepticism, something foreboding that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

And maybe it was the unease you felt being in the palace where Yoongi had eyes on you all the time. You could only assume that even now, in the four walls of yours and Jungkook’s bedroom, someone must be peering through the open window. Mind reeling with information that they’ll babble about to Yoongi this evening over his feast of a meal. A true king sat comfortably on his throne, an undeniably cunning king at that.

You flick open Taehyung’s notebook, any lingering scent of your old friend now musty, page of the book curling at the corners like it were decades old, having sat through numerous winters and damp bedrooms where mould acted like vines that claw up the walls, trying to devour any open space in its wake.

You flick past pages of notes, Taehyung’s handwriting messily scrawled across multiple pages with little insights of his mind. A window into Taehyung’s soul. Your fingers skim over lines upon lines of words you don’t bother to try and read.

Goosebumps prickle your neck as you turn each page, wondering if maybe Taehyung was flitting around the room as you read through his mind. His hand gently brushing the back of your neck when you turn onto a particularly detailed page, one Taehyung had spent hours pondering over the right words that he wanted to stain the paper with. Some with you in mind while he let his hand glide across the page, thoughts about you coming easier than most once the young painter had met you.

When you get to the last page that had writing on, you notice the change in handwriting, equally as messy but a lot less eloquent. A little harder to read each individual letter, unlike Taehyung’s cursive writing where each letter melts into one another like the sea when it meets the sand.  

And as if it were muscle memory, your fingers trace each letter on that last page.

Ah, that was your handwriting.

You flick back a page, eyes scanning over Taehyung’s handwriting and then your own. You were sure that they had been written in by two different people, even the ink was different. The writing from the newest page having seeped into the other side of the paper, writer clearly inexperienced as they pressed a little too hard compared to Taehyung’s pages; ink sat perfectly on a single side of the page.

‘1865’ ‘One: Hope’s Inn’ ‘Two: Paradise Inn – the capital’

Jungkook had mentioned visiting the capital, hadn’t he?

Your eyes flit towards the garden when you hear footsteps, gravel crunchy under heavy feet, probably clad in heavy boots.

“Seokjin!” you call, dropping Taehyung’s notebook carelessly to the wooden floor as you scramble towards the open window. The king’s aide startles at the sudden call of his name, jumping a little like a jittery cat as you reach the window. His eyebrows crease in confusion as he looks at you from over a small bush.

“Wait there, I’ll come outside. I need to ask you something!” you tell him, and Jin only nods, confused as you scuttle back into your room.

His feet stay glued to the ground, head tilting to try and get a better look into yours and Jungkook’s room. Curious about the hidden part of your lives that no one around the palace had seen. Or anyone that he knew of.

The two of you good at keeping in your own little bubble without the input of outsiders ruining the little thing the two of you had going on. Jin knew you weren’t married, although the sight he saw in the bedroom last night would suggest otherwise, it’s not common for a man and a woman to be so… intimate out of wedlock. But Jin doubted a human would settle for scum like a demon.

Especially Jungkook.

Your footsteps echoing down the hall as you run into the gardens, leatherback notebook held tightly in your hand as you haphazardly bow at a few of the staff that duck out of your way as you barrel towards Seokjin. Each of them narrowing their eyes at your outlandish behaviour.

“You’re not busy, are you?” you ask, worried that maybe you had kept him for too long already. You weren’t sure of what the aide of a King does, but you could only guess Seokjin was a busy man.

Jin shakes his head, “No, I was just out for a walk” little white lie tumbling off his tongue with ease, and he has no time to feel any guilt as you smile at him so brightly. And it leaves Jin wondering if he had ever seen such a radiant smile anyone’s face.

You peer around the gardens, “Is there somewhere we can sit down?” you ask, “Preferably a little quieter”

Jin looks around at the staff that move like a colony of ants around the garden, beady eyes all staring at you as you stare up expectantly at him.

“Yeah” he nods, “Follow me” he tucks his book under his arm, poised to perfection as he wanders down the path towards the back of the palace where he knows no staff would be milling around.

You take a moment to look around as Jin leads you towards a shaded area underneath a tree. The gardens at the back of the palace were just as well kept as the front, a little pond full of fish of every colour, water looking as though it were reflecting a rainbow. The sun glistened on the water like little specks of golden nuggets, reeds caressing one another in the gentle morning breeze.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen such green grass, well-kept and probably fed with specialized fertilizers and watered daily. With flowers lining the walls, some you didn’t know the names of, and you wonder if Taehyung would have known. He’s the one that had taught you all about watering plants when you used to help him at the Hanok.

“Is here, okay?” Seokjin asks, kneeling before he comfortably sits on the grass.

You simply nod, eyes scanning over the expanse of the garden once more, “Have you seen Jungkook this morning?”

Jin hums, “He was heading towards the front gate the last time I saw him”

You nod at that, “I see. This will only be quick” you take a seat opposite Jin, crossing your legs before placing Taehyung’s notebook into your lap gently, wary that the bindings weren’t as strong as they used to be, especially not with you carelessly dropping it to the ground when you’d chased to catch Jin.

You flip the notebook open to the page that has your messy handwriting scrawled across the page, “Do you know a place called Hope’s Inn? I don’t think it’s in this area” you ask, eyes flitting across Jin’s face as he brings a hand up to trace his lips. Your eyes following the motion, swallowing thickly as his tongue peeks out to wet the rosy petals of his mouth.

“I don’t think I do, no. I’ve only ever lived in the capital” he shakes his head, “Why? Do you need to get there? I’m sure his highness would allow you to take a carriage there if you asked.”

You shake your head, “No, nothing like that. What about Paradise Inn?” you ask, a little more hopeful.

“Ah” Jin nods, “I haven’t heard that name in a while. It was closed due to bankruptcy 10? 11? Years ago, maybe”

You blink, eyes trailing down to the page you have open. “11 years ago?”

Seokjin nods, “Maybe a little more, I do know it’s been a while.”

You slam Taehyung’s notebook closed, dull thump ringing in your ears as you lean forwards. Hands sinking into the plush green grass as you gravitate towards Seokjin. Said man leaning back on his hands, coughing slightly to cover the faint pink that dusts his cheeks as your eyes flick across his face.

“What year is it?” you ask him, making no move to sit back away from the aide, unaware of his flustered demeanour.

“What?” Jin asks, bewildered. Forgetting about the red that coats his cheeks, like rosy blush made from flower petals. Gently ground petals, forming a dust, where faeries kiss your cheeks with red dusty magic.

“What year is it?” you repeat like a broken record.

“1898?”

You fall back onto your bottom, pulling open the notebook so fast the bindings pull taught at the force.

“Holy shit” you mutter, ignoring Seokjin who grimaces at your crude language. A reminder that you hadn’t been trained for proper etiquette that a woman should uphold; and perhaps Jin should ask the King to put you in a few classes while you stayed in the palace.

“Is everything alright?”

You look up at Seokjin, your face void of any clear emotion, “Perfect actually, thank you for your help” you nod, “I should get back before Jungkook finishes his run” you throw a finger behind your shoulder before you push yourself off the ground.

“Is everything okay? With Jungkook I mean?” Seokjin follows, pushing himself to stand, hands hesitant by his side as he looks down at you.

“Yes?” you tilt your head, clear confusion veiling your eyes as you look up at Seokjin through your lashes.

“I mean—” Seokjin runs a hand over his face, exasperated, “I mean he’s not human”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you laugh, “So what?”

“Well, is he hurting you in any way? If you need help, I can try and—”

“What?”  you cut him off, incredulous look on your face and Jin swallows thickly at your harsh tone. Never having expected you to seem so… offended by something truthful.

“He’s a demon, Ms. Y/n. Surely you aren’t there out of free will?” Jin reaches out to hold your arms, hoping to comfort you, and then maybe you would confess, but you pull back.

“Thank you for helping me but I don’t this is any of your business” you shake your head in disbelief.

Any lingering feelings you had of this Seokjin, the ones where you secretly believed that maybe, just maybe he was just like your Jinnie had melted like the sea does the sand at high tide, before pulling away, the land empty until the moon rises once again.

“Y/n!” he calls you when you turn your back on him, each dull thud of your footsteps tugging on the invisible strings wrapped around his heart.

You feel like sand slipping through his fingers as you wander from the back of the garden, Seokjin clenching his fists, trying to clutch onto anything that would make you stay.

He wonders why his heart beats so quick whenever you’re around, thumping like his majesty’s horses’ hooves do when they race. He wonders why he hates the sight of you, when neither of you had met until yesterday. He wonders why his head hurts when he thinks back to your first encounter, how sad you had seemed when he had asked if he knew you.

Seokjin hated you because you interrupted the peace of the palace. Each corner now filled with whispers of you, and his highness asking about you every hour when Jin believed he had more pressing matters to attend to.

Jin hated the way you smiled; it made his heart feel heavy. He hated the way you stood beside that demon like it were your place. Like you were nothing more than his little plaything.

Jin hated that he wanted to help you. Wanted to give you the clarity you needed to leave the scum that you call a friend and let Jin get rid of him; burn him to nothing.

“Wait!” he calls out, surprised when you stop; turning to face him with almost a bored expression. No light in your eyes as you look at his face, the hope you held now null as you maintain eye-contact; any shyness now gone as you stare at him like nothing more than a nuisance.

“Yes?” you dare to ask, because even if he had said a few mean things about Jungkook you still felt rude ignoring Seokjin.

“How about I take you to where Paradise Inn used to be?” he offers, apprehensive as you stay silent. And he thinks he can see the cogs of your mind start to who’d to life.

“Why would you do that?”

“You seemed a little troubled earlier.” he coughs, “And… as an apology for stepping out of line. I didn’t mean to offend you, sorry” he swallows thickly, breath getting caught in his throat.

You still look at him unamused, “Next week. But don’t mention it to anyone, okay? I’ll tell Jungkook and I’ll meet you at the gate this at this time next week, okay?”

Jin doesn’t mind that you don’t wait for a reply, simply watching as you wander out of the garden. A small part of him annoyed that you were going back to Jungkook, but the excitement of seeing you in the coming seemed to overshadow that fact.

+ + +

You curl back up on the chair, head pounding as you think back to your conversation with Seokjin.

You had so many questions, but no one seemed to know the answers to.

Except Jungkook.

Speaking of the devil, the door slides open. Jungkook’s shirt soaked through with a thin layer of sweat where he’d spent most of the morning in the sun. Skin looking as though the sun had dropped from the sky and kissed him in places you had too.

Your eyes rake down his body, unfazed as one his hands tug at the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his forehead; toned stomach flexing.

“Nice nap?” Jungkook asks after he closes the door. Noticing how the bed was still made, untouched by you.

You just hum, fingers toying with the ragged string holding together Taehyung’s notebook under the blanket that drapes over your shoulders.

“Kookie?” you call him as he pulls his shirt over his head.

As if he knew you were to utter his name, Jungkook’s attention is on you within a split second.

“What’s wrong, doll? You sound troubled” he frowns.

“Can you come here?” you ask, holding your hand out as if to ask him to hold it.

“I’m still sweaty, lovely” he grins, knowing you weren’t all that fond of him smothering you after he’d had a full work out.

“I don’t mind” you wave him off.

Jungkook obliges, never one to deny you of anything. He kneels before you sat on the chair, hands landing on your knees, veiled by the soft blanket.

You loosen your hold on the cover, bending over in the chair to place your ear to Jungkook’s chest; his heart beating lazily, calm like a domesticated tiger, confined in his ribcage.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, hand running through your hair as you wrap your arms around his torso, moments away from slipping out of the chair.

“Yes” you whisper, “I love you”

“I love you too, baby. But you don’t seem alright.” he prods, fingers digging into the tight skin of the back of your neck.

“You wouldn’t ever lie to me, right?” you ask, wondering if you’re imaging Jungkook’s heart rate pick up.

You pull you head away from his chest, anticipation swimming in your eyes as Jungkook meets your gaze.

“Never” he shakes his head, and you think you believe him, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

But maybe you were never as good at reading people as you thought you were.

“Jungkook, what year is it?” you ask, any faith you had in your demon friend slowly dwindling the longer he kept his mouth shut.

“I’m not sure” he shakes his head, mouth falling open to say something, but he evidently decided against it when he closes his mouth again.

“I do” you tell him, and Jungkook feels his mouth go dry at the solemn look on your face. “1898. It’s 1898 Jeon Jungkook”

“Okay?” he asks, happy you don’t flinch back when he places his hands on your thighs.

You fiddle around with the blanket in your lap, Jungkook’s eyes narrowing when you take a hold of Taehyung’s notebook.

You press a finger to Jungkook’s lips when he opens his mouth, and you ignore how your heart rate picks up when he presses a delicate kiss to the tip of your finger. Now wasn’t the time to let him fluster you when you had a point to make.

You flick open Taehyung’s notebook, shoving the newest page in Jungkook’s face; said man pulling back to get a proper look at the page, words jumbled from where his eyes had zeroed in on them.

“1865?” he asks you, peering over the notebook to look at you.

“I didn’t pass out, did I?”

“Huh?”

“Tell me the truth. What really happened?”

Jungkook thinks you look tired, not that you’d slept particularly badly last night. Sure, you were a little restless, but you had always moved around a lot while you slept so Jungkook thought nothing much of it. Only choosing to card his fingers through your hair to try and settle you when the moon was high in the sky, watching over the two of you as the rest of the world sleeps.

You watch Jungkook’s shoulders fall, body curling in on itself as you sit up straight. Your eyebrows furrow at the loss of warmth when Jungkook’s hands slip from your thighs, eyes refusing to meet your own.

“Technically you did pass out” he whispers, “When we got back from the capital, I already told you but, a group of humans had trekked up the mountain.”

You nod, even as Jungkook keeps his head bowed, eyes downcast as he opens his mouth to continue.

“We were settling down for the night, you were tired from traveling. We’d been in the capital, and I was reading” he continues, “we both heard something, it sounded like it had come from Taehyung’s room so, I went to go and check what was happening and left you in the bedroom”

“And then what?” you prod when Jungkook goes quiet, gathering his thoughts.

“I didn’t know they planned to burn our home down. While I was checking Taehyung’s room I heard more shouting, and had an… encounter with a few of the village men”

You slip onto the floor in front of Jungkook, your knees touching his own. Jungkook looks up at you, and you frown at the tears that threaten to paint the soft skin of his cheeks, gathered, ready to leak like a broken bucket.

“By the time I’d dealt with the village men, I ran back to the bedroom, but they’d gotten to you first.” Jungkook swallows, and your hands come to cradle his cheeks as the first wave of tears cascade down his cheeks.

You watch as tears spill down like little waterfall as his eyes meet your own; and you push yourself up to kiss away the first influx of pearly tears that glisten against the ledge of Jungkook’s sharp cheekbones.

“You were really hurt, just lying there in bed. I thought maybe you were asleep, but your breathing was too shallow. There was so much blood, baby” he heaves a breath, and you wrap your arms around his neck, “I thought I was going to lose you, I was so scared” his voice cracks.

You feel Jungkook’s body shake as you hold him, wanting to tell him that it was okay; that you didn’t need to hear the rest of the story. But you let him continue after he takes a shuddering breath. Because you were selfish and you wanted to know what had happened to you, and why Jungkook had kept a secret so big from you.

“They left after they’d set alight to our home. I didn’t want to lose you, so I—“

Your fingers thread into his hair, lump in your throat making it hard to breath as you try and piece Jungkook back to together with nothing but your tight hold of his shoulders. Heart shattering like glass as he shakes in your hold, arms refusing to hold you as he sobs. Scared you were delicate, memories of the past flooding in and scaring him, with what the future may hold, what you’ll think of him now that you know the truth.

“I used magic to save you. I know I should have asked, but there was no other way. I’ve never used a healing spell before, maybe that’s why you were out for so long. But every day I prayed you would wake up”

“Why the palace?” you whisper, your own tears dipping into the caves of Jungkook’s collarbones, but he doesn’t berate you for it.

“I didn’t know where else to go. Demons aren’t worshiped like they used to be, and I couldn’t keep you on the streets now that we had no home”

“What if I hadn’t woken up?” you dare to ask, regret washing over you as Jungkook outwardly sobs, all four arms now wrapping around your body to pull you into his lap.

“Don’t say that” he cries, fists balling into the back of your shirt.

“Sorry” you snivel, “I’m sorry I assumed you’d done something wrong when really you were just helping me”

“I told you I’d be here no matter what”

You hum at that, head resting comfortably in the nook between his shoulder and neck as your breath hitches with each new wave of tears that glaze your skin.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” Jungkook breaks the silence, voice hoarse from crying, tears slowly dwindling to nothing more than short wheezes of breath and pitiful snivels.

“It’s okay, you meant well” you rub your cheek against the bare skin of his shoulder, and Jungkook’s reminded of your snobby cat that used to do the same. “Thank you for saving me”

“I’ll always save you”

And you believe him. How many times had Jungkook saved you?

“Are my lost memories because of the magic?” you slowly start to connect the dots; little pieces of lost information slowly being mended together. And maybe you were finally finding some sort of clarity.

You should have just asked Jungkook from the beginning. You should have known he would have never kept anything from you if you had just asked him. Because Jungkook would always be on your side like you would always be his.

It was nice, freeing even to know you always had someone that would be on your side, knowing that you’ll never have to be alone, scared. Because you had a partner, someone that your heart was starting to open up to with each moment you spent with one another.

“I think so. Honestly, I’m not sure. I’ve never used magic of this scale before. But I was willing to take the risk if it meant saving you.” Jungkook places a feather light kiss on the crown of your head, a silent promise that he would scour the lengths of the world if it meant keeping you alive.

“I’m sleepy” you yawn, Jungkook laughing as he easy lifts you into his arms.  

“Didn’t you just take a nap?” and you can hear the smile in his voice, not questions asked about the tidy bed.

You just hum, knowing that if you were to lie to him then Jungkook would surely pick up on it.

“Just a little sleep” he tells you, gentle as he places you on the bed. You stare up at Jungkook’s face from where your head rests on the pillow, his eyes red-rimmed from crying; but no less handsome.

<3

Jungkook pinches between his eyebrows when your breathing evens out, sleep consuming you.

Forcing out a few fake tears had never given him such a big headache. He stares down at you, any guilt he had about his little lie vanishing at the sight of you resting beside him; cute in the way your hands hold onto the fabric of his trousers. Scared that if you were to let go, he would vanish.

It irked him that he didn’t know everything. Like how you managed to figure out what year it was, toeing the line of the truth that he’s worked so hard to keep from you.

If Jungkook didn’t love you much, he may have been a little more than mildly pissed that you wouldn’t just stay put. You didn’t need to lift a finger if Jungkook was there, you didn’t need to worry about trivial things like what the year was or how you got to where you were. All you had to do was sit pretty and Jungkook would do all the hard work.

His eyes travel over towards Taehyung’s notebook, surprised that even with two locations that were outside of the Hanok being presented to you, you still seemed to have no clue about the little trip you’d taken. And Jungkook supposes that helps him a little in all of this.

He didn’t have to worry about any lies that Namjoon had tried to weasel into your mind, and any hesitancy you’d had in the last few days of your trip had been diminished. Now, all Jungkook had to worry about was you being a little nosy and sticking your nose into places it shouldn’t be.

Truthfully, Jungkook didn’t mind all that much. It just meant he’d have to keep an even closer eye on you from now on, and make sure you remained his. And only his.

[ringleaderising]

Also before I forget, I've got a single baby from my Midas Touch pair on the AH right now for 20kt, they're obs/obs/gold and his parents wegged me because there's SOMETHING in the water in plague right now.

I can also drop to 10-15k potentially, I just don't want him getting grabbed up for foddering since the floor's dangerously close to 10k right now.

Lair link in replies to keep Tumblr from nuking this post from the tag.

[sshbpodcast]

Character Spotlight: Reginald Barclay

By Ames

We’re at the end of our Voyager characters to spotlight here on the blog, but don’t worry! A Star to Steer Her By has made sure to save some room on our plate for Broccoli! Between The Next Generation, First Contact, and Voyager, we got a pretty decent helping of the lieutenant, so let’s pick some of the remnants out from between our teeth and see just what makes Reginald Barclay the character he is.

Interestingly, most of Barclay’s best moments come in Voyager and his worst moments are more weighted to TNG. I guess it took a little while for him to start to agree with our palette, as he starts off as a holo-addicted, hypochondriac, transporter phobic conglomeration of mental health conditions. But the guy grew on us so it’s only fair to have a taste. So join us below for the best and worst of Reg, listen to our chatter over on this week’s podcast episode (beam over to 1:06:25), and pass the Broccoli!

[Images © CBS/Paramount]

Best moments

All for one and more for me! While we definitely found a lot to cringe about in Barclay’s debut episode “Hollow Pursuits” (and you’ll hear more about that later), what we definitely appreciate are his swordsplay skills! Holodeck or no, Reg has got the moves to take on not one, not two, but all three musketeer crew members! En guard!

What if, what if, what if one of us is the connection? Reg is also the one in “Hollow Pursuits” to discover the invidium infection that was plaguing the ship, and then works with the team to put a stop to it. It’s a learning moment for the lieutenant because he also gets a little confidence boost from the experience after some unceremonious exchanges between him and La Forge.

You’re in for a bumpy ride We’ve also got to hand it to Reg for overcoming his transporter phobia and saving those crewmen from the transporter buffer in “Realm of Fear.” No one else would be brave enough to go face to face with the weird turd things in the ether, let alone think there might actually be people in there somewhere. It must’ve been all that plexing he was doing under Troi’s care.

What would happen if we tried to beam a holodeck object off the grid? While he, Data, and the captain were held captive in the holodeck program by that mastermind Professor Moriarty, Barclay comes up with the idea to try to beam the two hologram characters out of the holodeck and into the actual ship in “Ship in a Bottle.” Sure, it didn’t work because that’s just plain impossible, but it was a clever enough idea to keep the professor busy.

Why don’t you come with me, little girl, on a magic carpet ride Barclay shows up briefly in First Contact during the repair work on the Phoenix. Reg drops by to show La Forge some component he found to replace the Phoenix’s warp plasma conduit – definitely needed to save the day and ensure first contact. We’re pretty sure it was some tubing from a brewery still, but that might just be a guess because Zephram had been drinking.

Project Voyager is just beginning, thanks to you By the time we get to Voyager, we really get Barclay at his best. It’s clear that he’s grown a little bit and his engineering ingenuity is on full display in “Pathfinder” when he literally runs the gamut to put his plan in motion to use the MIDAS array to create an artificial micro-wormhole to make contact with the Voyager. He has to break the rules to do it, but he finally gets through!

Neelix the Cat, the wonderful, wonderful cat You’re always going to get extra points with the hosts of A Star to Steer Her By if you’re a cat person, and it turns out that Barclay is a kitty lover! We see in “Pathfinder” that he has a sweet kitty named Neelix whom he seems to spoil rotten. And you’ll also remember that back in “Genesis” Data remarks that Reg is the only crewmember whom Spot actually likes!

The first transgalactic phone call The application of the MIDAS array gets better and better until Voyager is using it to send correspondence back and forth to the Alpha Quadrant once a month by “Life Line.” And that’s all thanks to Reg, whose dedication to the Pathfinder Project turns out to be just beginning. There’s still a long way out of the Delta Quadrant to go!

You brought a Mark One thirty thousand light years to treat me? With the MIDAS array set up, the EMH transmits himself over to cure an ailing Dr. Zimmerman later in “Life Line.” However, it becomes clear that the EMH’s creator is too stubborn to accept the help of the obsolete model with his own face. And that’s when Reg steps in, first enlisting the help of Counselor Troi, and then successfully tricking Dr. Z into working with his creation.

Check, raise, or geodesic fold? Speaking of tricking people! When the Ferengi have taken over the MIDAS array in “Inside Man” and sent a nefarious hologram Barclay to the Voyager, the real deal Barclay impersonates himself and foils their plan to steer the ship into a geodesic fold. Turns out Reg is pretty good at playing a cockier version of himself!

Eleven minutes are better than none One final leap forward in how the MIDAS array progresses in its communication usage comes in “Author, Author.” Finally, we’re close enough to home (and to the end of the series) that Reg has helped to set up the brief daily windows during which the crew can talk live with their loved ones after about seven years apart. Or set up a book publishing deal, whatever floats your boat.

Before I met you, my only friends were my own creations If you haven’t checked out our Voyager fanfics, you’ve really got to give Jake’s story “Hollow Gestures” a read or listen. He pairs Barclay and Doctor Zimmerman together as two typically solitary geniuses in a lovely tale that’ll have you giggling one moment and tearing up the next. It's the slash we didn't know we needed.

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Worst moments

I’m tired of seeing your name on report The first impression that both we and the Enterprise-D crew get of Reg, however, is just plain bad. We learn in “Hollow Pursuits” that he’s chronically late, underperforms, and otherwise seems antisocial and pathetic on the job. La Forge even attempts to get this loser crewman transferred. No wonder Wesley started calling him Broccoli – no one wants him on their plate!

Cast off your inhibitions and embrace love, truth, joy Even worse than being a bad coworker on the job, Barclay definitely crosses the line and should be reported to HR for what he does in the holodeck in “Hollow Pursuits.” While manipulating the likenesses of his crewmates is enough of an affront, making Troi into the Goddess of Empathy turns him into a sexual predator, even worse than Geordi with Leah Brahms.

The big brain am winning again! I am the greetest! After the Cytherians have ker-zapped Reg’s brain in “The Nth Degree,” the usually shy and introverted engineer evolves quickly into a hypergenius. But with great brain power comes great brain responsibility, and Reg just can’t handle the sudden knowledge jump gracefully and turns into an egomaniacal dick even after the Cytherians turn him back.

Fiddle-dee-dee! That will require a tetanus shot. Before Reg figures out the transporter issue we mentioned above, he finds his arm glowing from one of the beings touching him while in the buffer. And my dude takes so long to tell anyone about this obvious medical malady. I mean, no one likes doctors, obviously. But when your arm is literally glowing blue, let someone wave a tricorder over you, bro.

Rated E for Everyone Except Alexander We may not see Barclay in “A Fistful of Datas,” but he wrote the cowboy holoprogram for Alexander. I could say this is a bad moment because it forces another Alexander episode upon us, but there’s more! When an old-timey prostitute gestures at the two Klingons, Worf rightly comments that he’ll need to talk to Reg about what goes into a kid’s program. Yeehaw.

The game is afoot! Okay, while most of this blame goes to Picard for leaving Moriarty in limbo for so damn long, we’ve also got to pick on Reg a little bit for releasing the Professor from the holodeck in “Ship in a Bottle.” Frankly, asking someone with a holodeck addiction to go fix it seems like a mistake in the first place because Moriarty is able to trick the engineer practically right away.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Spiders Almost nothing in “Genesis” makes any sense: Spot turns into an iguana, Picard starts turning into some kind of tamarin, and Barclay turns into a spider, all while the episode tries to frame it all as “de-evolving,” which isn’t a thing. And all of it is because of Reg when his Barclay Protomorphosis Syndrome spreads across the ship, which sounds pretty spidery to me.

It’s Terrelian Death Syndrome, isn’t it? Barclay’s hypochondria turns into a sort of running joke across The Next Generation, with Barclay constantly self diagnosing with more and more preposterous ailments that Bev has to talk him out of. From transporter psychosis in “Realm of Fear” to Terellian Death Syndrome in “Genesis,” it all seems like a bit of a stretch in a future when tricorders can cure what ails you.

Don’t meet your heroes, kids Okay, the little Barclay cameo we got in First Contact was cute and all, but yet again, he’s just an off putting and weird nerd who fanboys all over Zephram Cochrane. He might have freaked Big Z out in the ten seconds he was on screen as much as La Forge and everyone else did over the course of the entire movie. No wonder Zeph tries to flee from responsibility.

From where I stand, it looks like you’ve had a relapse Reg is a bit more toned down and mature by the time we get to Voyager, but frankly, creating a holo-version of the Voyager crew who all worship and adore him in “Pathfinder” seems fraught. For someone who has such a problematic history with creating counterparts of real people on the holodeck, Reg may have backslid. At least none of them were the Goddess of Empathy.

What About Bob? Also in “Pathfinder,” we find that Reg just abuses his doctor-patient relationship with Deanna Troi to effectively turn her into his own on-call therapist even though she’s typically busy on the Enterprise-E at this point. Even worse, in “Inside Man,” he follows Deanna while she’s on vacation like a creep, something that definitely should be out of bounds for a patient to do!

What exactly is a broken heart worth these days? Finally, it seems like Reg was so enamored with the idea of having a girlfriend who isn’t a hologram for a change in “Inside Man” that he ignores all sense. Anyone could take one look at Leosa and see that she is only giving the dorky engineer the time of day in order to to trick him. Easily. Maybe he should stick to the holodeck after all.

—

Computer, erase all programs filed under Reginald Barclay. Except program nine. And that’s it for character spotlights until we circle back around to the crew from Enterprise! Speaking of which! We’re finally wrapping all of Enterprise over on the podcast next week, so make sure you’re warping along with our banter over on SoundCloud or wherever you listen, follow the blog for the upcoming season and series wrap posts, chat with us over Facebook and Twitter, and stop making your coworkers in the holodeck!

[thetonethetollandthethunder]

Scythe chapter 11-15

You know the drill!! Cmon!!!

—

Chapter 11!!

-I always forget the conclave’s have names,,,

-The thing is, you can never blame these people for fighting back, it’s human nature, but OUGH the consequences of human nature are so devastating

-But just imagine the guilt you’d feel, your husband got killed and you get immune from the same fate for a whole year. That’s just prime for survivors guilt

-Also the fact that Faraday told the family the man didn’t resist is just testament to his kindness and compassion

-“The sanctity of the law…And the wisdom to know when it must be broken.” *Stares at Goddard*

-MILK SCENE, I unironically love this scene even tho I think it’s really funny

-Also I genuinely don’t know how ppl drink milk b4 bed, is that even a real thing? How does that make you sleepy??

-Also good on Faraday!! Don’t waste shit!!!

-Apparently all the Scythe Rings are white but I refuse to acknowledge that, they’re all multicolored and each color relates to the scythe in some way <3

-That ring security system Faraday has going on is sick as fuck tho ngl

-“Now let’s see how long it takes Rowan to go for the ring.” I love himmmm, he’s fun!!! He can be fun!!

-Tonist mention!! I love the Tonists <33

-Nice chapter!! Gives more depth to Faraday!!

—

Chapter 12!!

-Rowan and Citra’s test are approaching!!!

-The idea of having to hold yourself back in life because you’re afraid of being killed is actually terrifying—

-Also same Rowan, I hate studying too

-“Rowan concluded that not knowing was more terrifying than knowing.” If I remember correctly what the consequence is then that is CERTAIN true

-I LOVE Citra and Rowan’s banter here!! You can see their chemistry early on!!

-UGH I WONT LIST OUT ALL THE MOMENT BUT THEYRE SO CUTE!!!

-Cute chapter! Lots of Citran moments!

—

Chapter 13!!

-“I’m a human being, not a mole.” Faraday is soooo fun sometimes like so fun and endearing???

-“Destroyed back in the age of mortality by something called ‘terrorism’.” OKAY SO YES THIS DOES GIVE US A LOT TO THINK ABOUT IN TERMS OF WHAT PEOPLE HERE KNOW ABOUT THE AGE OF MORTALITY BUT ALSO THAT IS RLLY FUCKING FUNNY SOOO

-I too hate walking at 6:30 am (I go to public school in America)

-“I have found that with the Scythedom, it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission,” He is iconic yall

-“What’s the worst they could do?” Things said before disasters—

-“Running the gauntlet” Like walking the red carpet!

-“Scythes wished to be seen as the many faces of light, not of darkness.” And soon they will be! Yk, just right after the plague—

-SCYTHE CURIE OMG OMG!!

-OO now they’re seeing scythe goddard ohoho I LOVE HAVING FORESIGHT

-Citra would cringe at the fact she at one point dazzled by goddard

-Rowan don’t be fatphobic /j

-I like that the conclave’s are pretty boring for the most part, makes it feel more realistic

-I love how only when Citra becomes a Scythe does she begin to understand these rituals, shows how much she grows

-OHOHO we got goddards fuckin note bullshit! Citra is gonna hear allll about that when she becomes a scythe

-Love how Chomsky is basically described as “as white as anyone could be” lmaoo token white man

-also gun lobby, nothing to say about it just…Gun lobby

-Rowan starting to talk like faraday is GOLD

-Again I love Citra and Rowan’s banter

-SCYTHE CURIE

-The idea of the weaponsmaster being a infomercial salesman is SOO funny i need to use that in my scythe oc shit

-Also that digital poison sounds fucking TERRIFYING

-The Scythes not liking the term ‘victim’ is rlly interesting to me, shows they really think of themselves as these faces of light

-Neal I don’t think you know what feminine hygiene products sound like—

-Hand of midas shit but even MORE horrifying!!

-I am terrible with names I saw Scythe Mandela and thought he was Scythe Possuelo and I have no idea why

-Who names their child Ransom??

-VERY good and long chapter!! Two more to go!!

—

Chapter 14!!

-OOO the test scene!! One of my favorites!!

-SCYTHE CURIE

-Again what is with the shit names??? Jacory??

-OHH you do NOT interrupt scythe curie girl you are FUCKED

-Oh Citra you’re gonna revisit the worst thing you’ve ever done REALLL soon

-ROWAN LOSING ON PURPOSE FOR CITRA IS SOOOO!!!

-GODDAMN IT RAND I LOVE YOU BUT STOP

-AND THE TENSION THICKENS WITH THE ADDED RULE OF THEM HAVING TO KILL THE OTHER OH MY GOD ITS STILL GOOD MAN!!

-We all want a relationship with the thunderhead Curie

-Very good chapter that adds to the stakes of the story!! One more to go!!!

—

Chapter 15!!!

-God the shock and confusion and how upset they all are really captivates this conversation

-And you see that eventually Rowan is very willing to die at the hands of Citra, that’s how much he loves her like UGHH

-“Scythes were supposed to be above the petty,” oh citra you have no idea bby girl,,

-Hash pales!!!

-THE KISS SCENE

-Ive already went in depth about why I love this scene in my Citran analysis post but UGH I LOVE ITT

-Liar!! You are totally in love rowan!!

-GODDARD THE BASTARD

-God he is such a fucking dick i hate himmm

-Very good chapter :)

—

AND THATS THE NEXT 5!!! Next time we’ll do chapters 16-20!