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lais-a-ramos · 4 years

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ok, this one is kind of a hard topic, and i appologize in advance for any mistakes i make or not being articulate enough

all the concearns over ppl in fandom hyping the only prominent white character, christina, in lovecraft country instead of the black characters are valid and the critique is definitely important, once it's common for ppl in fandom to either erase the half of a couple that is a BIPOC or to deny a canon cis het biracial ship to hype up a fanon white wlw ship and other problematic stuff plenty of times in LGBTQ+ fandom spaces.

but i also think we can't dismiss the entirety of the ship only bc the same LGBTQ+ fans are back at it again with their problematic behaviour, especially bc of its significance for black women and feminine-aligned nb folks who feel attraction to woman/feminine-aligned nbs -- lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, biromantic, panromantic etc.

for what i've seen so far, this ship is very important for black women and female-aligned nbs bc finally we have a dark-skinned black woman, who is also fat, to be treated with absolute respect and consideration and be passionately desired in a way that is not some kind of secret fetish or played for laughs, treated as being as worthy of being courted and romanced as her light-skinned and skinny half-sister.

christina respects ruby's choice and agency for most of the time -- i think the exception may be that first time ruby transformed into hillary;

she immediately explains to ruby her plans and intentions whenever ruby questions her behaviour and demands answers, including ruby in her plans when even ruby's loved ones keep secrets from her; she gives her all these baths and caresses her so softly, literally bathing her with affection and desire; she woos her with vows of devotion; and even tried to understand what ruby said when she asked her to try to understand her pain -- albeit in a fucked up way that only a privileged and sheltered girl raised in an enviroment in which magic is real and present in ppl's daily lives possibly could.

christina overall acknowledges that ruby is a woman with her own emotions, motivations, hopes, dreams, wants, needs and desires, and that's something y'all should keep in mind because i'll return to that later.

overall, these things i described are actually the basic that a person should do for the one they call their lover, and in no way erase the fact that christina is willing to kill innocent ppl to accomplish her goals of self-protection, nor turn these things acceptable from a moral standpoint.

but it's not the kind of treatment black women and feminine-aligned nbs receive, neither in fiction or in real life, by the way.

there are specific forms of misogyny that black women and female-aligned nbs face in which we are read as aggressive or animalistic, oversezualized or stripped from our sexuality and have our femininity denied if we don't check the boxes of what society deems acceptable.

there's this interview wumni mosaku gave for elle magazine U.S. in which she discusses her personal experiences with this problem, and how these eurocentric standards of femininity forced her to act in an overtly nice manner as a way to make sure ppl will treat her kindly instead of with suspicion and assuming she is aggressive.

that is because of the ways race and gender intersect creating a very complex scenario when it comes to definitions, experiences and stereotypes of femininity.

white women are overall treated with an authomatic presumption of innocence, as delicate and frail flowers who must be protected at all costs, especially if they are from upper classes -- that is something that is actually held against low-income white women, who are expected to adhere to certain standards to have their femininity acknowledged.

but, as we can see by that moment in episode 1x05, "strange case", when ruby as hillary is escorted by the policemen to her supposed husband who is actually christina shapeshifted , and, actually, by christina's entire motivations and characterization, that very same presumption of innocence is one of the sources of their oppression, because they are infantilized and stripped of their agency in favor of the men in their lives -- husbands, brothers, fathers etc --, being stopped and/or forbidden to do things cis het men usually get to and are expected to do.

in spite of this paradox, white women still have a privilege when compared to black women, because they're are still seen as ppl that belong to the world of affections and are worthy of receiving love, care and concearn for their wellbeing.

but that is not the case with black women.

usually, we are reserved two roles: one that revolves around being hypersexualized for men's consumption, both white and black alike; and the other, in which we are seen as "beasts of burden", carrying the weight in terms of work, emotions and so on, being expected to be desensitized to experiences and problems that no human would be expected to. sometimes, these two roles actually cross paths.

here in brazil, black activism and academics have been calling it "solidão da mulher negra", "the loneliness of black woman", and i think it's a very pertinent and powerful way to describe it.

and, that is the thing, when you're a black woman or feminine-aligned nb that doesn't fit into this role of being sexualized, you can feel this loneliness go a step further, because all that is left for you is that beast of burden part.

you end up not only being cast aside and abandoned by cis het white men and black men alike if you're attracted to men, but, overall, everyone in your social circle, including family, relatives and friends, expect you to be this source of strength and carry weights and resist to things ALL. THE. TIME.

and, guess what type of women and feminine-aligned nbs usually don't fit into this role of being sexualized????

the ones that are dark-skinned, fat, bulky, or any combination of these.

it's a combination of colorism, fatphobia, misogynoir and other factors that come to play, really.

one can check a few boxes, or check them all.

i myself don't check the "dark-skinned" box because, as a biracial women, i have light-skin privilege -- even though my skin is not as light as jurnee smollett's, who plays ruby's half-sister letitia "leti" lewis. but i sure have dealt with the consequences of not having the right body type for my whole life. i've been one of the "fat kids" for all my teen years, and, even now that i lost weight because of health issues, i'm still bulky and with large shoulders, feet and hands bigger than what is expected for women, and for most of my life i've felt in a similar way than what wumni mosaku describes on that elle magazine interview i mentioned earlier.

now, ruby literally checks ALL. THE. FUCKING. BOXES.

while we haven't seen much of her past, for the tidbits we got we can imagine that she had to be the responsible one in her family, being the older child, and basically raise her two siblings while their mom neglected them.

and we can see that, while the producers and writers changed a lot of her characterization from the source material -- in the part of the book i am right now, she has yet to show up, but the way she's described she seems more domestic and the shrinking violet type like show!hippolyta at the begining -- she is still seen as someone respected in her community and a source of strength -- e.g. being trusted to take care of dee.

and that clearly takes a toll on her, because everyone in-universe seems to expect her to be this mammy type or a role model, "a credit to the race" -- which is kind of ironic, given that it seems the audience seem to expect this of her as well.

and she puts all this pressure on herself because of it, and, while she is a woman with a very active sexual life, she seems overall very unsatisfied and repressed.

interrupted, as ruby herself perfectly put.

everyone seems to expect something of her at home, and not only all of her goals in the professional realm seem to be frustrated by social structures of oppression, but even her relationship goals as well, given that most of the men that she gets involved with, whether they are black or white, seem to believe they have the right to abandon her and treat her like trash because she doesn't feel a thing and is "strong" enough.

and that is where christina comes in.

now, it's true that the character that's pointed by many as a representation of white feminism surely is problematic in many ways, including her "colorblind" approach to racial issues, which is a particular form of racism that comes from an indifference towards social issues that steem from the privilege of not having to worry about said racial issues because one's not affected by them.

but, inspite of this colorblindness, or precisely because of it, christina sees ruby not for the roles she plays in other ppl's lives, but as the woman with her own emotions, motivations, hopes, dreams, wants, needs and desires that she is (see??? i told y'all to keep that in mind because it would be useful later).

some of these things might not be politically correct, like wondering what would it be like to be white and not have to deal with all the bullshit she has to.

some of these things might be dowright immoral and unethical, like the revenge fantasy she made come true against that abusive, sexual harasser and possibily rapist that was the guy from the department store that appeared in episode 1x05.

but, they are what makes ruby, well, ruby.

they are what makes her human, what humanizes her.

and christina accepts all of it, all that makes ruby who she is.

like the av club review for episode 9 pointed out, the two women are actually not that different when it comes to motivations: the stakes might be different for them because christina is protected by her whiteness and wealth, but both of them want the same thing in the end -- to not feel interrupted by the social restraints that bind them.

and that is what draws them to each other and feel attracted to each other, even though they might not understand quite well what to be queer means to them, or even avoided/repressed the question altogether as they grew up.

they are two points that seem opposite, and might as well be in some ways, but belong to the same axis that is gender and sexuality.

their relationship is incredibly complex and layered because of all these intersecctions.

ruby and christina's relationship is all about revealing different parts of yourself to the other and peeling each other's layers (sorry for the pun, but, it was just there lol), and, because of this, it's no wonder that it's seen as more romantic than, say, tic and leti's relationship, that seems to be playing out like plenty of cis heterosexual relationships, moving too fast because of the passion involved and what society expects, without the two of them being able to truly proccess and decide what they want, something that will defintely get more complicated now there's a baby on the way.

everything is so raw between ruby and christina, quite literally (it's one ot the things i love the most about all the gory scenes between them, it's a very clever way of using a fantastical setting to highlight these metaphors and symbolism).

with all of this, it shouldn't be a surprise that many sapphic black women and feminine-aligned nbs relate so much to ruby and got so attached to this relationship.

it's not because they endorse the problematic stuff christina or ruby have done -- although, well, to be fair, in a show that draws inspiration from pulp fiction magazines, particularly horror and detective/mystery stories, all characters are expected to be problematic and do fucked up things.

it's because queer black women and feminine-aligned nbs, regardless of whether they check only a few of the boxes i mentioned before or check all of them, can relate to this feeling of loneliness that the producers and writers portrayed so well with ruby -- but also with hippolyta, and dee too.

and for relating to these feelings, they relate to this relationship between ruby and christina.

and it's kind of hard to know what's gonna happen next in the show and the future of this ship

hell, even know whether the show is gonna be renewed or not.

but this should be a lesson for the future, on this fandom and others, to try and consider the perspectives of LGBTQ+ black ppl in these spaces, because, when you don't do that, you're basically reproducing, in a space we should be safe to have fun, the same oppression and silencing we deal on a daily basis

#lovecraft country #ruby baptiste #christina braithwhite #ruby x christina #lgbtq #lgbtqiap+#black women #black representation #character analysis #character meta #meta

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peachpitfics · 3 years

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Culinary Chaos

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: Yes

“ Teaching Spencer how to cook and him being all pouty when it doesn't turn out great so the reader comforts him and makes him feel better🥺”

Summary: Spencer meets your Parents and invites them for dinner at his apartment, knowing full well he can’t cook. Even with your help, he still manages to ruin dinner. Luckily, Dad’s got him covered.

Length: 1.3k

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader, Reader’s Mother & Father

Content Warnings: Curse words

A/N: Hiiii, this probably wasn’t what you were asking for, but its sweet and it’s what fell out of my brain today... I hope you enjoy it :) xx

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Instant regret filled Spencer’s body as he realized what he’d done. Dating for 6 months, you had introduced your boyfriend to your parents at a family dinner they had invited him to. With your background, your Father had cooked this beautiful meal, enjoyed by everyone, but especially Spencer. There was nothing he loved more than home cooked food. You guessed it was because of how he grew up...

And that’s where Spencer decided to invite your parents for dinner, at his apartment, on Saturday night.

As soon as you left and got into your car, Spencer lost it. He frantically ran his hands through his hair and jittered his leg around. Anxiety not only filled his stomach, but yours too. “Why did I do that?” His voice shook. “Because you’re a nice person, and you wanted to make a good impression” You nodded. “Uh huh, yeah, well” You could tell that the higher his voice got, the more he was panicking, “I don’t even own pots and pans” The dread washed over him as he realized he wasn’t capable of making anything that wasn’t coffee or toast.

You wanted to laugh but didn’t want to further embarrass him. Spencer was quiet from there until you got to his apartment. You tried to converse with him, but all he could do was be in his head and bounce his leg up and down. Spencer led you into his apartment, his pace quicker than normal. Before you knew it, he was tearing his kitchen apart, while you sat and watched on in utter surprise. Spencer didn’t half ass things, he always gave it 100% and more often than not, he was successful.

“You need to stop panicking” You said sternly, finally having had enough of this chaotic Spencer. “What am I going to do?!” He near on shouted, frustrated with himself. You approached him, taking him into your arms and holding onto him as tightly as possible. After a minute, he finally melted. You could feel his energy shift. You rubbed your hand up the length of his back, “I’m going to help you, if you would just calm down” You giggled.

When you parted, he was softer, slower. That frantic energy had dissipated. You helped him put his kitchen wares back in the cupboards and decided what he was going to make for dinner. You were going to keep it simple, with a roast beef and vegetables. Something you knew your parents liked & something you could cook, so you could teach Spence. When you explained the logistics and wrote a shopping list together, he calmed and was much happier.

——————- Saturday Afternoon ———————

The shopping was done, Spencer was prepared, and you had brought a baking dish from your apartment for the roast. He had started on the vegetables, Spencer’s concentration through the roof. You stood behind him, lovingly wrapping your arms around his middle and drawing in his scent from the back of his shirt. You planted small kisses on his back and ran your hands down his sides. But Spencer ignored you, he kept peeling and chopping vegetables. “You’re staring at those carrots as if they’re going to run away” You whispered up to him. “They might if you keep distracting me” He chuckled. More time passed, more time where you were not the center of his attention and it was bugging you. Now he was preparing the meat. He was doing everything exactly how you told him. When you were finally fed up with being ignored, you decided to take your shower and get dressed for dinner. Your parents would be here in about an hour, and Spencer was already ready. He’d been ready for hours, perpetually worrying he was going to mess something up.

You came back to the kitchen, smoke billowing out of the oven into Spencer’s face. “I’ve been gone 45 minutes, all you had to do was let it sit?!” You exclaimed, watching him hurricane right back into chaos. “Babe, what’s going?” You asked, now frantic yourself. “The fucking meat is on fire” Spencer’s voice was high and scratchy, his stress filled the room much like a smoke. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Spencer donned odd oven mitts and pulled the baking dish from the oven, a medium sized fire spread across the whole of the meat, engulfing it. Spencer dropped the baking dish into the sink, throwing a tea towel over the top of, hoping to smother it out. An enormous crack rang out, the baking dish breaking in half over the heat.

You took it upon yourself to open all the windows and waved one of Spence’s jumper around to sweep the smoke out of the apartment. Once it was clearer to see in the kitchen, you went back to check on Spencer. He sat against the counter where the sink was, elbows on his knees and hands over his face. “This... is a disaster” He mumbled sadly. You took a seat next to him, linking your arm around his and kissed him on his arm. “Ah, it’s not so bad” You smiled, “It’ll be a funny story one day”. “Not today, it’s not funny today” He grumbled, “Your parents are going to be here any minute. My apartment is smoky, the charcoal ball in the sink is ruined and there’s nothing in the apartment for dinner” He almost began to laugh, but you were sure that was to keep from crying. Spencer wasn’t always this way in regard to failing; this particular meal was very important to him. He’d never been in contact with a partner’s parents before, so this was special.

You stood, reached your hand down to him. Pulling Spencer up, you reefed him into a bear hug. “Everything will be okay” You squeezed him tight, his chin resting on your head. You knew what your parents were like, they wouldn’t have ever held this against Spencer. The doorbell rang out, just what you needed. The kitchen was a mess, and the smoke hadn’t cleared, you didn’t want Spencer to be embarrassed. But he pulled up his metaphorical socks and answered the door. He shook your Fathers hand and kissed your Mothers cheek as they entered the apartment. You greeted them, watching their faces as they observed the chaos. “What’s happened here?” Your Father asked softly, walking into the kitchen, and lifting the tea towel in the sink. The black ball of burnt meat lay underneath. “Dear me” Y/F/n smiled. “Yeah... I... can’t cook” Spencer confessed. “It’s harder than it looks, isn’t it?” Your Mother hummed. She herself wasn’t a good cook. “That’s an understatement” The corners of Spencer’s mouth were twisted into a smile. “Can I give you some advice?” Y/F/n asked gently, not wanting to put him off trying again.

“Of course, Sir, please” Spencer approached the kitchen, excited to learn. Your mother and you stood in the entryway, watching on. “I assume this caught fire” Your Dad laughed, waving soft smoke out of his face, “Which means, your oven was too high and the fat caught fire. The oven then becomes a furnace and suddenly, bam! You’ve lost your roast” Y/F/n chuckled. “So, next time I should do it on a lower heat for longer?” Spencer asked gingerly. “Oh Absolutely, that way is better anyway, it cooks nicer. I wouldn’t worry too much about this though, I set fire to a few before I got a good one, didn’t I darling?” Y/F/n turned back to your Mother and laughed. She nodded along, chuckling herself. Spencer’s anxiety over the whole situation, disappeared. It was comforting for him knowing that even good cooks, like y/F/n, had catastrophes like this. “So, shall we order a pizza?” Y/M/n suggested. “Pizza this time, but next time, we do a roast. Together, I’ll show you how to get it perfect” Y/F/n draped his arm around Spencer’s shoulder, leading him to the living room to order that pizza.

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Tags: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @diegoluna-asian

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged for Spencer Reid fics! ✨

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mightysteelix · 3 years

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Pent Up Desires (Fic)

Ever since the summer event last year, I've been toying with the idea of a larger Robin. And now that its rerun is about to come, I've decided that it is time to finally write it out - and meanwhile hit as many of my kink buttons as possible. This is the result - one of my most indulgent works (if not the most indulgent work to beat them all).

Rating: Explicit Category: M/M Fandoms: Fate/Grand Order Relationship: Robin Hood | Archer/Billy the Kid | Archer Characters: Robin Hood | Archer and Billy the Kid | Archer Summary: Do you remember when B.B. said she would turn Robin into a pig during ServaFes? What if she followed on the threat, albeit with quite the twist?

Robin is cursed and can't control himself around food. Billy has promised to help, but he can't control himself around Robin.

Weight-gain kink fic. Don’t like, don’t read.

WARNING FOR KINK CONTENTS UNDER THE CUT

Additional Tags: Weight Gain; Belly Kink; Size Kink; Size Difference; Masturbation; Dry Humping; Stuffing; musclechub; Robin gets huge; And Billy tries not to jerk off whenever he sees him; Self-Indulgent

LAST WARNING FOR KINK

Summer was in full swing, and Babbage blasted enough steam to make Chaldea hotter than a waterless hole in the heart of the prairie. So, it did not come as a shock that Robin was rockin’ only trunks and an open shirt, which showed some well-sculpted arms. The guy was hell-fired handsome with the finest body ever, and if he wanted to kick back, Billy wouldn’t protest. Nay, what hit like a bullet to the brain was the ton of food in front of him—meats, loaves of bread, and a raft of drinks.

“How’s it goin’, partner?” Billy plopped down in a chair next to Robin. “Famished after Servant Fes sucked the life outta ya?”

“It’s…” Robin, with a larger scowl on his face than usual, panted. “It’s that… purple-haired witch’s fault.” He grabbed a drumstick and tore off some meat like a starved wolf. “She threatened to turn me in a pig…” His face was red with effort. “We had to win her Holy Grail…” He bit another chunk. “Don’t worry,”—Billy stifled a giggle when Robin mocked the Master’s voice—“she won’t follow on it.’ It’s easy to speak when this isn’t happening to them!” After chewin’ the last of the drumstick thoroughly, he swallowed. The slow gulp traveled down his throat and into his stomach. Robin punched his chest and exhaled in relief.

Billy’s eyes followed it and glued themselves to Robin’s gut. It was taut, bloated, as large as a basketball—and just as hard if he touched it. The pressure was makin’ the skin around the belly button burn angrily. The trunks rested under the overgorged curve, a trial of ginger peekin’ below the band. “True, partner, you’re becomin’ a nice piggy,” Billy quipped. “So, the purple lass’s itchin’ for a vendetta, and she chose ya?”

After he popped a soda open and drank half the bottle—his gurglin’ gut sloshin’ and expandin’ even more—Robin nodded. “She cursed the clothes. And I must’ve stepped on her toes something fierce when I complained to Master. Now I can’t even take the swimsuit off.” He grit his teeth, his handsome face (Was that the start of a double chin? Nay, don’t stare!) grimacin’ as he tried to keep the fizz down. His strained jaws opened as if pried apart, and with shakin’ hands, he poured in the rest of the drink. His neck bobbed; his stomach filled and grew in every direction. “Whenever I see—urp!”

Robin closed his mouth. His cheeks bulged with a held-back belch. Yet the stress forced his lips to open: “UUUURRPPP!” He bowed his limp head away. “Excuse me,” he muttered. “But when there’s any food—anything—I must eat it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll explode; my hands will push it down to my stomach.” He slapped the swollen ball, it barely swayin’. Something bubbled in its depths rose in his throat, and he let out another lengthy burp.

Bitin’ his lips, Billy leaned closer. “Have ya tried stayin’ outta here? Far from the eyes, far from the heart and all that?” he advised Robin, his eyes lookin’ anywhere but that overstuffed middle.

“I’m trying. But she’s pulling that Archer’s strings, too.” Robin grunted and glanced at the kitchen while devourin’ a buttered slice of bread. “If I leave my room, he’s on my tail with a cupcake or some other treat. Before I know it, I am dragged here and”—he pointed to the ungodly number of plates—“you see the rest.”

Billy nodded slowly, his whole willpower holdin’ him from lickin’ his lips. A fire was blazin’ in his chest—and his groin. He knew EMIYA’s dirty little secret way too well: the way a man’s gluttony melted him faster than an ice cube durin’ high noon. The Archer had left his treats unguarded when Amakusa discovered his sweet tooth. And when the Ruler came one morning, enormously flabby and flauntin’ it at every step, the pervert couldn’t stop blushin’! For Billy’s shock, neither could he. So did they become accomplices, secret friends bound by a common desire.

But gettin’ his pleasure from Robin, who hated every second of it? Damn, that was a new lowest of the low! Billy’s neck ached with strain as he did his best not to look, but he wouldn’t give in! “Forgive the question, partner,” he dropped it, hopin’ to divert the talk, “but if ya’re stuffin’ down so much food, how are ya not as fat as that priest boy?”

Robin clicked his tongue. “I’ve been burning off the calories. When I am not gulping down food here, I’m in the gym to work out. Doesn’t stop flab from piling.” Billy squinted, lookin’ for it, and caught himself. “But it does help.”

With some vigor, Billy’s line of sight moved higher—towards Robin’s arms. True, they were meatier, fillin’ the short sleeves of the shirt. Robin wasn’t a stick before, either, but now he was more powerful. Gorwin’. Maybe his legs had also bulked, but Billy didn’t wanna risk lookin’ at that gut again.

“Of course, after the training, my stomach is starving, and I chew down more food to make up for it. You should see how much EMIYA brings me then.”

Even more? Billy gulped—and before his brain could call out the horrible, horrible idea, he spoke. “Do ya need a partner for this job, partner? Someone to help with the trainin’ and to keep your appetite under control? Because ya can rely on me!”

“You know, that might help. Thanks a bunch!” Robin’s relieved smile stabbed Billy’s heart like a dagger. “Do you want to try it once I’m done here?”

“Sorry!” Billy jumped outta his chair. He wasn’t goin’ to ditch Robin—he owed up to his offers. “I’ve gotta do something else first!” Namely, one red Archer needed a few bullet wounds and a lecture on personal boundaries. “But tomorrow I’ll help ya!” And hopefully, he wouldn’t end distracted by that amazing, achy, hungry gut.

---

“Damn that EMIYA!” Billy shouted as he collapsed on his bed. “And that purple wretch, too! When did they form their party?” His talk with the red Archer a day ago had gone to the dogs. That man had balls of steel—no matter how many threats or bullets Billy wasted, EMIYA did not budge. And B.B. had hidden in her little mouse hole, without a trace of her anywhere in Chaldea. Billy couldn’t find her, no matter how many rooms he checked—as the stupid chef had told him.

“No whiff of the Master, either,” Billy grumbled. Da Vinci had promised to deal with the unruly pair, but B.B. would stop only if her so precious senpai ordered her. And unless she lifted the curse before breakfast tomorrow, Billy woulda to help Robin with the training again. The pillow muffled his screams. His heart woulda exploded in his chest after watchin’ his partner once. God help him if he had to see him bustle those weights while his gut shifted and gurgled. He hadn’t stopped glarin’ at the packed sphere once, paying attention and squirmin’ whenever it swayed. Robin’s unintended teasin’—him drummin’ over the sphere every once in a while—made it even worse. Billy barely had survived today; tomorrow would kill him!

Even worse, he said some calories stuck as fat. Did that mean an ever-flabbier Robin with a softenin’ gut? How much feedin’s would it take ‘till it became an enormous tank of lard; ‘till it sagged over his deck and he needed someone’s help to jerk himself off? It would jiggle whenever he took a step, it would flop over his shorts—hell, Robin woulda to pull them under his belly! His shirt would hide nothing; nay, it would show off those juicy curves.

Billy’s crotch twitched. No! He clenched fists, his nails diggin’ in his palms. “I’m not beatin’ it to Robin, no matter how smokin’ hot he becomes!” There were boundaries to those things! He rolled, now lyin’ on his back. His dick was makin’ a tent in his pants. The movement only made it rub against the fabric, and the pleasure flared up even more. “Self-control, self-control, self-control!” Billy repeated like a mantra. A burnin’, powerful feelin’ arose in his chest.

Would Robin gain love handles, too? They’d be juicy and plump, always to be grabbed when there was a chance. Billy imagined squeezin’ them in his fingers, the flab jigglin’. Would they push his shirt even higher, so large that nothing would cover them? And when Robin tugged it relentlessly, his gut would shake. The threads would strain and groan, but the clothes wouldn’t fit over that engorged mass. When he gained moobs…

Billy shut his eyes. His body was tense and feverishly hot. Sweat was burnin’ his forehead, and the flame in his dick pulsated through him. He shouldn’t think about those two swayin’, soft sacks of flab. He shouldn’t imagine carresin’ them, kissin’ them. Precum moistened his underpants.

“Who knew: I’m a pervert enough to do it!” Gruntin’, Billy peeled off his pants and pulled down his briefs, freein’ his dick. “Only this time!” He snatched the lube from his nightstand—his hands trembled and almost dropped it on the floor—and generously coated his fingers. “Do yer fuckin’ worst, libido!” he swore and began pumpin’ his cock. The first touch rustled through his body, a torrent of pleasure to drown him. No, oh no, oh, oh, oh yes, yes! He was breathin’ heavily, and his hand didn’t stop.

Robin’s moobs would show under his shirt—nay, so large that he couldn’t fit clothes over them. He’d parade around naked, a total show-off, his gut, and moobs, and love handles, and delicious, delicious backrolls for the whole world to ogle. The shirt would be a mere piece of fabric, stretched and useless, good only for hidin’ his shoulders—if even that!

Billy tried to hold his moans—keep at least that dignity. His insides were coilin’, his muscles were shiverin’. His dick stiffened more, and he drew every movement long until his body woulda broken under the strain of lust. He gulped the moan down, opened his lips for a hasty breath, and closed them immediately, the pant havin’ built up in his throat.

Robin would become a titan of a man, his torso a lardy mountain. He would carry all the weight, his freakin’ strong body put to good use. Those powerful arms he boasted an entire day—that was a start because he would also swell with packed flesh. His shorts would tear around his tights, the veiny mass crackin’ them apart. But he would pay no attention to that. The curse would drive him to eat and eat, glut himself more, unable to fight the thrall of the food. He would complain of his growth but never resist because he couldn’t—not even when he outgrew the chairs, the doors, the halls.

His stomach would be stuffed at all times, yet callin’ for more. What if Billy brought him snacks to the gym? Robin went only there and to the dinin’ hall. What if they shortened that time? What if he did not stop fillin’ his gut, gorgin’ himself, the sphere bloatin’ out of proportions, dominatin’ his already enormous frame? Then he would explode into more impossible, more gargantuan sizes. There would be no end, no control, only expansion and flab, and muscle…

Billy arched his back. A desperate, loud moan—almost a hiss—left his lips before he could bite it down. He was thrusting more rapidly, hastily, desperate for that release. If only he coulda Robin with himself, to have his way him.

If he were there—small, almost invisible next to the giant that was Robin, he would cheer. He would rejoice as the other Archer lifted heavier and heavier weights in the gym, his muscles so swole that they would tear the skin open. Veins would run under the sweaty flesh, visible over the bloated mass. And when Robin wanted to eat… Oh, boy, Billy would make sure he packed away his fill. He would push the meals in the other Archer’s mouth, rub his belly to provide comfort, and squish the flab under his fingertips, enjoy it as the gut would seemingly grow under his touch. Or, it would be tight and heavy, stretched to its limits, angry and protestin’ the constant stuffings. But it would be so used to the fullness and the cursed hunger that Robin wouldn’t handle a second without bein’ stuffed. It would be like an addiction—nay, it would be one—to eatin’, to blowin’ up, to growin’ fatter.

And if Robin enjoyed it as much as Billy, then the blond would have no problem givin’ some bonus help. He closed his eyes and imagined Robin’s dick in his hand. The massive roll of his gut pressed into the fingers, and as Billy stroked the cock, it would groan and roar, so overstuffed that it could burst open. He could also ride that massive ball, rub his member all over it while pushin’ caloric meals into Robin’s stomach. Or he could push his shaft between the two lardy ass checks and fuck Robin!

There, almost there! Billy was pantin’, out of breath, hot as coals. His ghosting fingertips ran across the red tip of his dick. It was an itchy, sudden touch that quickly ended. He hoped to prolong that sick, depraved cravin’ for as long as possible. Thoughts of relief were pushed to the corners of his mind.

Once their efforts came to an end, Robin would be huge, too large for his puny clothes. He would march around Chaldea, showin’ off his naked, heavy, thick body. The muscles would sway, the veins of his biceps and calves would shift. His enormous gut—so enormous that it would fall over his erect dick—would gurgle at every step: either achy and overfilled or not full enough and needin’ more. Robin would tend to it, gloat, relish in his new size and consume even more food. He would feed himself further into titanic sizes. Control would slip out of his mind. After gorgin’ himself, he’d be so horny, so desperate, that he’d pound Billy straight there in the canteen.

Cum shot outta Billy’s cock over his hand, and he was moanin’. His sheets were sticky as the white liquid soaked them., but he kept squeezin’ the last few lustful drops. The heat was sated, the achin’ hole in his chest filled for the time bein’. But, he realized with newfound clarity, tomorrow it would set him on fire again. And the thought of Robin attackin’ the filled tables like a beast sent a shiver down his dick again.

---

“Almost… There!” Robin grunted, gritting his teeth, and pushed up the barbell. His arms stretched, his large muscles expandin’ to their full size and squeezin’ again. His sleeves were already rolled as high as possible, not fittin’ around his swollen arms but tried to creep up more. Sweat was glistenin’ on the skin as it rippled - a proof of the effort he was puttin’ in. His round pecs—as big as apples—flexed, hard despite the flab that covered them. They swayed rhythmically as the weight moved up and down, plusatin’, tensin, and relaxin’: one, two; one, two. Billy’s eyes traced them as they shook, and he could see himself gropin’ them, holdin’ that powerful flesh… “And done!” Robin’s proud shout snapped out Billy. But it was for the worse because the huge Archer sittin’ on the bench let the barbell in place and scratched the curve of his gut, which rolled over his waist.

Fidgetin’ and tremblin, about as helpful as a snowball in a summer gunfight, Billy was warmin’ a nearby bench. He had been comin’ every day, unable to tear eyes away from the clothes that seemed to shrink around Robin’s growin’ body. The gym trips didn’t make him any smaller—especially when, after every workout session, Robin gorged himself until his bloated stomach couldn’t fit a morsel more. Then, he’d complain he was so full, drag out long moans and poke the stuffed sphere. As he sated his gluttony, it distended, pushed out more, and sometimes—a hot thrill cut through Billy—rested on his lap.

Billy bit his lips, strugglin’ not to slip a hand down in his pants right at the gym. He rubbed his tights together. His face was sizzlin’ like fire, and his breaths were rushed, unruly, desperate. He shook his head, hopin’ to clear the fantasy, but choose the damned best worst moment.

Robin jumped on the floor. The shockwave rocked the bench. Didn’t the equipment also rattle? Billy swallowed and the gulp lodged in his throat. He was shiverin’, truly feverish, trying’ to look away from the handsome behemoth. He knew what was comin’, but his neck refused to budge.

“Let’s go to the canteen.” Robin grinned lazily, his chubby cheeks jigglin’ a little. “After this stress, I should eat something.” He drew fingers over his exposed belly. Hadn’t he started touchin’ it more often—almost as if he got his kicks outta it.

No, no, no! Don’t think like that!

“Wasn’t the plan that you stopped stuffin’ your face, partner?” Billy wanted to stall—he was a god-damned coward. Once he saw Robin gulpin’ down food like there was no tomorrow, all pretenses of holdin’ back would fly straight outta the window. “Ya sure it’s not the purple hag’s doin’?” He didn’t know if he had the power to stand up without his legs meltin’ in a puddle.

Robin crossed arms behind his back, the mass of his bulky arms and forearms pressin’ together. “Does it matter much? I mean, I am not sprouting a pigtail, right? I was worried B.B. was literal with her curse.” He glanced down at his belly. “I can get used to some flab.”

Billy’s small body clenched as he struggled to hold back a moan. Robin was already a damn-fine lady-killer—in that case, a bloke-killer. His awesome, broad shoulders led to beefy arms, as thick as tree trunks - as possible capable of tearin’ them outta the ground. A soft layer of flab—quiverin’ unless Robin flexed—bloated their size further. But if Billy dragged fingers over ‘em, he’d feel the packed bulk underneath. Those powerful monsters could—a hiss of pleasure pinned him to the bench—snap him in two. Robin’s muscles were top-notch, too: wider than his arms, shaped by constant bustin’ at the gym and the very act of carryin’ his bulk. They were veiny, ripped, and made the puny summer shorts stretch and ride up under the curve of Robin’s gut.

That lardy overhand attracted attention without fail. It was an enormous sphere of pure fat. The hidden muscles kept it in a firm, massive, fat ball. Robin still tugged the shirt around his oversize middle; the buttons ached and shook, hangin’ for their dear life. His poor shorts fared even worse, trapped between the titanic tights and the blobby belly, strained into a thin line of fabric. What if, while Robin was packin’ away food, it snapped in two, no longer survivin’ the pressure? Would he shrug it off and keep eatin’, too gluttonous to consider it? Would he glut himself, his pecs—round, sightly saggin’, the perfect ending touch to his appearance—wobblin’ at the fast movements?

“Hey! Are you coming?” Robin asked. He had turned his back towards Billy. The shirt rested well above his soft, squeezable love handles, which trembled with each step. His bloated ass cheeks pressed together, foldin’ as he walked. The shorts barely covered them—and if Robin kept feedin’ himself and expandin’, no clothing would fit him. When the threads snapped, and his body exploded outta them.

Billy’s mouth opened wide, and he stood up, followin’ their hypnotizin’ sway. It wouldn’t come to that, would it? Robin had more self-control, did he not? But he had no problem with growin’ fatter—and if his eager steps were an indication, he could even await it. Billy’s imagination quickly did its job, paintin’ a pic of Robin, who was eatin’ no longer with resignation but with cheer. He would adore the way his flab folded or his muscles swelled. He would rejoice more the less he could see under the dome of his girth, proudly lift even heavier barbells and dumbbells and eat his weight in food.

“Come, or you’ll miss everything!” Robin shouted from the hall, turnin’ so fast that ripples spread through the entire mass of his engorged gut.

“I’m comin’, partner!” With an uneasy waddle, Billy followed him. Had he found out? Could he? As if he was a mutt with a yanked chain, the blond rushed down to the canteen. His brain could wait. Robin was right; Billy needed to see every second of that show.

---

Billy’s legs dragged him towards the canteen sluggishly, weakly. He hesitated at every step, pulled back, and then minced forward. What if someone saw him? He had to scram as fast as possible, get far from the dinin’ room. His dick was throbbin’ in his pants—and they were so tight that the whole Chaldea musta noticed. Hot sweat soaked him to the bone: anxiety, arousal, and anticipation. He had clenched his hands and mustered whatever willpower was left to him. “I’m not beatin’ it in the halls,” he murmured in the lonely corridor. “No matter how much I’m burnin’, no matter if it’ll drive me insane, no matter that Robin’s embraced piggin’ out and when I enter the canteen, I’ll find him stuffin’ himself sick.” Each second was painfully long-drawn torture as the twitches of pleasure set him ablaze.

“Can you walk faster, please? You partner”—the voice was so heavy with sarcasm that Billy could see it drippin’—“is inside and has already begun. If you arrive too late, he will have finished.”

“EMIYA!” Billy crouched in his shootin’ position. The tight pants rubbed his sensitive cock, and he felt himself edgin’ closer to release. He tried to hide the dick with his hands but brushed its tender head. “You’ve got a lotta courage,” he tried to push away that shameless joy, “showin’ up before my eyes.”

“Keep the rage for later. The curse would have failed if he did not enjoy it.” The unfazed Archer passed by him. Then, he stopped, glanced around shiftily, and turned back. “And you don’t have to thank me for this. Honestly. The grand plan was someone else’s.”

“I’m gonna give you all the gratitude you deserve, no worries!” Billy reached for his gun, but EMIYA slipped past him and disappeared.

He coulda chased the Archer, but there were more pressing things.

With the red vermin gone, Billy opened the doors and entered the canteen. He moved through empty chairs. The lively hall was now ghastly empty, not a sound to distract him.

Only one table was occupied—or, more accurately, three tables put together as a one. There was no other way the oversize feast woulda fitted. Potatoes, dazzlin’ with melted butter; meats with sauce as thick as syrup; mountains of golden, crispy fried rice—those were a few of the dishes, reversed for the special guest. And he was wolfin’ down a huge plate of appetizers along with a large bottle of soda to keep him company, the same ol’ grin plastered on his face. “Hey, partner!” he spoke, his mouth full. “I would say that you can pick whatever you like, but, uh, I have the feeling this is all for me.”

The flame of passion erupted into Billy. He bit his lips, and his hand reached for his cock, stroking it through the pants. It brought some short-lived relief, but then it rose higher—like a wave which would drown him if he stopped. “S-so,” he hoped to move the topic to anything else, “you were serious ‘bout enjoyin’ the curse, partner?”

The enormous gulp traveled down Robin’s throat. “How does it look to you?” He polished away the last few bites and set the plate on a pile of empty ones. When did he have the time? Billy had come ten minutes after him! How fast was Robin gorgin’ himself?

“If the red Archer will be my chef, I might get a use out of him.” Robin moved onto a juiced steak with bewitchin’ aroma and dug straight in, lickin’ the splotches of grease that stained his lips. “It’s not a weak start, but I bet I can do better. There’s a lot more to eat, after all. Do you want to watch?”

If Billy had any sense left, he should have realized the so clear teasin’. But he could only think about Robin’s huge body, about his gut and ass and bottomless hunger. Squirmin’, he nodded.

“Then you can sit here.” Robin patted the space on the bench near himself. “It might be a little tight, but a small guy like you can fit.”

Small. As if in a trance, Billy walked and plopped down, squeezin’ his body as close as possible to Robin’s flab. His left side was sinkin’ in the lard, feelin’ the warmth which the oversize Archer radiated. Those temptin’ rolls bulged over the smaller man, spillin’ over his lithe frame. He was like a mouse next to the engorged mountain that was Robin. “When did ya began enjoyin’ it, partner? Didn’t ya say ya will be stayin’ fit ‘n’ trim?” His hand hadn’t stopped runnin’ over his cock; how the hell had Robin not noticed?

“No, I did not want to be a pig. I thought B.B. would make me a large pink animal, but it seems she hadn’t been literal. Besides”—Robin stopped his feast to grip his flexed biceps, stretchin’ his fingers to fit around it—“this is quite far from a fat pig. I would have ended this earlier, but I had fun playing with you.

“You… On purpose?” Billy couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Why else? Did you think someone missed the way you were staring at me?”

It was as if a bomb had exploded in Billy’s chest. He shoulda been ashamed, distraught that his dirty secret was out in the open. But instead, he felt bliss, utter and true bliss. Robin was on the same page. Robin was on the same page! “Then, partner… Can I?” He was tremblin’, barely able to speak.

“Do whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

Billy jumped onto him, perchin’ himself atop the blobby gut. His face leaned forward, and he kissed Robin’s revealed moobs. He pressed his lips over the pecs. His face was enveloped in the soft chub, and his tongue caressed them from the perky nipples and up the curve, glidin’ over the muscle underneath.

He began grindin’ against Robin’s belly. The flab engulfed his cock. As Billy thrust into it, his dick not penetratin’ deep enough to fell the muscle, it shook around. Those jiggles made him throb with pleasure, arch his back, and squeeze—squeeze all he could.

Robin’s huge arms were the nearest. Billy’s hands slid over them, feelin’ the muscle ripple. The veins shifted with each movement and… Was Robin still stuffin’ himself?

The fat sphere pushed out, givin’ in less and less. Robin’s gut was growin’, fillin’ up with food, and he was bound to end even flabbier; even bigger—so impossibly enormous that Billy would be but a speck next to him. He’d be so tiny next to that solid wall of flab and flesh and beef!

Jizz soaked Billy’s underpants. The relief—the final relief—crashed over him like a wave and let out an unabashed moan in Robin’s chest. His warm, frantic pantin’ made the skin tingle.

And he rose his head, and his red, messy, wild smirk met a proud grin.

“For such a small guy, you’re pretty intense,” Robin said. He was breathing heavily, his belly pushing in and out. “Do you think you can handle a round number two?”

The blond, ruffled outlaw nodded, his body movin’ before his brain had a chance to react. “You betcha, partner!”

#weight gain story #male weight gain #male weight gain stories #robin hood #billy the kid #fate grand order #fgo #chubwritings

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gascon-en-exil · 3 years

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If we try and remove Byleth from Three Houses, who would likely be their replacement/s in the storyline? In AM, it will obviously be Dedue. But, what about in the other routes?

There's no easy answer that works for all the routes, because while removing Byleth completely undoubtedly would have made the overall writing of Three Houses stronger it would have also required a different focus and some extensive rewriting, especially where Sothis and Rhea are concerned. It'd also need the house leaders to become full PoV characters and also likely controllable in exploration, although that would have benefitted all three of them. Even if Byleth loses their self-insert status (and probably gender variability, in that case) and becomes a recruitable teacher like Hanneman and Manuela who only becomes central to the plot in Silver Snow, that would still require quite a bit of reworking...and would have lost the fans of Avatar dating sims, which has apparently been the most lucrative demographic of FE players for the last decade.

Azure Moon does indeed fare the best without Byleth, helped greatly by it being the most traditional FE story and the one that trims a lot of the fat in Three Houses's undercooked story elements, ex. the Agarthans and the mystery surrounding who and what Byleth is. It's already got the best pacing, the clearest arc for its protagonist, the best relationship between its hero and villain, and the best sense of dramatic payoff in ending where it does. The Byleth-free version would be all about power couple Dimidue, with added focus on Dimilix as a second relationship that begins roughly but develops into one of equal significance. Dedue and Felix would grow into a dynamic comparable to August and Dorias toward Leif in FE5, or Soren and Titania toward Ike in FE9: a pair of advisors with vastly different views of the world and who care for their leader in very different ways and so are forced to come to an understanding. They'd be fully integrated into the plot, allowing them to participate in story moments like Rodrigue's death and the resolution of the Duscur mystery much more organically than they do in canon, not to mention be the ones along with Gilbert and Rodrigue to help Dimitri through his darkest moments. The golden ending is an orgy.

Would IS ever write that? Absolutely not. It'd be too overtly gay, even if the relationships were still only kept to subtext, and there's no plot-relevant waifu bait to be had. Fandom would decry that AM as even more misogynistic than Echoes, and not progressive enough because with no Avatar S ranks Dimitri's queer relationships wouldn't be "canon." They'd be no homo'ed just like Ike/Soren is...which they are now, only it'd be more prominent with no Dimileth taking up such a large portion of Dimitri's fanbase.

I have no idea how this reworked Three Houses would handle the Eagles route split, so it'd probably be better off without one. Silver Snow would follow Byleth as they (she? he? The former allows for a second female lead, the latter delves into magical genderqueer territory with Byleth as the incarnation of a goddess) teach the Eagles and gradually uncover Edelgard's nefarious plans only too late to stop them. Apart from Byleth now having a definite gender, voice, and personality - quite a lot, I know - not much of the actual substance of SS would necessarily need to change. It would certainly benefit from a second pass in the writers' room, Byleth or not, like handling the Gronder rematch in a less awkward way, actually working to develop the antagonism between Byleth and Edelgard outside of two cutscenes, and making the final chapter make any kind of sense and not just "Rhea succumbs to dragon degeneration because you need to fight a final boss, Seteth handwaves the whole thing with a line referencing something that got referenced once back in like Chapter 2." Just...some kind of effort there would be nice.

At any rate SS with Byleth as an actual character would be more strongly-written for it, allowing them to function as a genuine protagonist. (Alternatively, make Ferdinand the protagonist...but that would resolve in him and Hubert putting on an elaborately-staged musical where they work through their feelings in the middle of fighting on opposite sides of a war. You know what? Give me that version of SS instead. Way more interesting.)

For Crimson Flower, drop the pretense right from the start. Edelgard's your PoV character, she knows she's the Flame Emperor and what she's doing throughout the school year, and Part 1 is about her trying to maintain the façade of a normal student while she's planning a war on the DL. If they insist on keeping some of the mystery, that wouldn't be impossible as it's obvious Hubert is the brains of their operation and he keeps most of what he does hidden from Edelgard anyway. I'm not really sure how to work the waifu hot for teacher angle into a PoV version of Edelgard; as much as I enjoy it from the comedic standpoint of Hubert never getting any because his lady never looks at him twice I think CF would be stronger if Byleth stayed with Rhea and the route didn't bother with working out their relationship to the Nabateans. Just genocide 'em all as Edelgard conquers the continent and convinces herself it's all for the best. She can shed a tear over Byleth's corpse while Hubert brandishes a cleaver with even more relish than usual to extract that valuable Crest stone. The ending is basically the same minus the Edeleth, with it being even more obvious that the shadow war against the Agarthans is going to resolve in Hubert taking his place as the real Manfroy of this story.

And as for Verdant Wind, the whole route would need a rewrite, to give it a more distinct identity from SS and to make it work with a protagonist whose personality and arc revolve around revealing very little about himself to anyone else. Players would undoubtedly find out much more about Claude that way than they do in canon VW, and it'd probably work better if it kept Edelgard's war to the background and refocused hard on the worldbuilding discoveries and how they play into Claude's growing understanding of Fódlan. With or without Byleth, a better-written VW would be vastly different from the canon version.

So aside from the house leaders taking over Byleth's role as PoV characters and exploration avatars I don't see anyone else assuming their exact role in supporting said leaders. Dimitri has an abundance of male love and camaraderie, Edelgard gets all worked up over Byleth but is still completely willing to step over them to achieve her goals (also Hubert is there), Claude would likely see his background and beliefs teased out of him gradually by all the Deer in their own ways, and Byleth as an actual character could make SS all about their Nabatean family and the bonds, magically incestuous or otherwise, they can form with the surviving dragons.

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses

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helmarok · 2 years

Note

Y'know what? I like you *sends you a nice ask to counteract all the hate you get because you're cool and have a massive brain*

1) Honestly, transfemme James is one of my favourite interpretations of them! Like... look at them and try to tell me they're cis. I personally headcanon they're genderfluid with he/they pronouns, but she/they James is such a godtier headcanon I love her

2) Ngl, I feel like all the people saying James is gay and thus can't be with Jessie are just Woke 90s Kidz who watched Indigo League when they were young and make FaceBook posts about how much Ash sucks. Obviously James being gay or Jessie being a lesbian aren't bad headcanons, but getting upset over someone else seeing them both being bi/pan/ply/omni and shipping them romantically together isn't very cash money of these folks. The only bad Rocketshipping is cishet Rocketshipping /hj

3) If I'm being honest, you should make James (and by extension Jessie) even more LGBT than they already are!

4) Being a bit more serious for a second, as a femme lesbian whose fat and has hairy arms, seeing you draw Jessie like that and still portray her as being kind of feminine means the world to me. I rarely see hairy or fat women portrayed in such a positive way (much less femme woman), but seeing one of my favourite characters of all time with those characteristics makes me incredibly happy!

In conclusion, you're a fantastic artist with stellar headcanons and you don't deserve all this hate you get

AAAAAGAGHHHHHHHHJHHJH&38364&4$4&5 THANKYOU THANK YOU THANK YOU

i try to go for that a lot im glad you like my art! i really want other people to see the characters looking different from usually and feel good about it, cuz thats a feeling thats hard to get when fandoms are just a white, skinny, cishet mess.

I ALSO AGREE WITH YOURE HCS FOR JAMES TOO!!! i hc them to be genderfluid as well, though i usually just keep it broad when talking about them by just saying transfem or nonbinary cuz the amount of labels that mf has needs its own wikipedia page... thats why its weird to see the woke assholes being like "it's homophobic to draw james with jessie when james is gay" my guy theyre licherally nonbinary and bisexual but ok 🙄 and dont even get me started on how a weird chunk of rocket fans or generally anyone who likes them thinks jessie is like... cishet i guess. i hc to be cis, but as for the het part????? if you dont see the history she has with cassidy or wendy the Juice Girl, you're just straight up STUPID. jessie loves women and is proud of it and if the writers had balls, she'd go crazy over some fucking rich chicks in canon and you know it

its also a very rare case i see people draw women with body hair, even when they are a progressive artist or whatever. as though hair is the one exception? artists who draw fat women and woc and all that seem to either avoid or forget that many women have body hair and arent shaved clean every waking moment... anyways little rant over, its just really nice to draw jessie being fat and hairy and still just jessie. none of those things makes a difference on attractiveness or femininity, like shes still very much a woman and a beautiful one at that

so thank you for this, anon 😭 at first my heart dropped when i saw the notif cuz i was wondering what hate i was gonna get this time, and this made my week to get something nice for once 🥺💖

#THANK YOU WAAAAAHHHHH 😭🥺💖#askbox #anon #long post #i am. crying

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kolachess · 3 years

Text

DMBJ 2010 Nangongling Interview Translated

I’ve finally (poorly) translated the infamous Nangongling interview with Nanpai Sanshu (aka Xu Lei, author of DMBJ)!

This is where that famous quote, ‘My lifetime, in exchange for you a decade of innocence and purity’ comes from. More on that here.

Interview Context: First off, in case you don’t already know, NPSS started DMBJ off as a fanfiction. And more on that here. Hence, his style of engagement with fans will be much more direct and why he’s very... knowing of the fandom world. And why the interview does not hesitate to ask about pingxie.

This interview seems to have been conducted somewhere on the internet in 2010 or nearing it. Although I couldn’t find more confirmation on its ‘authenticity’ so to speak, I also haven’t seen anything to the contrary that this might be made up. (Chinese internet is a strange, strange place...)

Here’s the version I’m basing this off of.

Translation Context:

Ok first, I’m a native Chinese speaker, but grew up in the US and not fluent in reading / writing. I am not at all familiar with a lot of idioms, let alone internet slang and pop culture references (of which there are a lot in this interiew), so there will be a lot of guessing. Anyone who knows better, free free to point it out.

Text Legend:

Parenthesis indicate actions / reactions. E.g. (smiles awkwardly)

[TN: ...] are my notes

[??? some words ???] indicate major uncertainty in translations

== or =w= and such symbols are emojis from the interviewer

Original text sometimes had random forward slashes in between what seems should be one word / term. My guess is it might be to skirt censorship?

Names Context:

They use a lot of different ways to refer to the various characters and NPSS

The interviewer calls NPSS ‘Your Majesty’ or ‘Sanshu’ a lot. But Sanshu can also refer to Wu Sanxing... so it gets confusing a bit.

Zhang Qiling can be anything from Menyouping to Pingzi to Lao Meng to Meng... just... anytime there’s ‘Meng’ or ‘Ping’ or ‘Zhang’ it’s safe to assume they’re referring to ZQL.

Wu Xie is often just Wu Xie or Tianzhen

Nangongling is the name of the interviewer

Interviewer:

Interviewer: Your Majesty, come interview. After this, we’ve got to sleep.

NPSS: OK. Let’s go. Be gentle.

Interviewer: Oh Your Majesty, you’re so shy.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu, is DMBJ ultimately a tragic or happy ending?

NPSS: For some, a tragedy. For some, a regular drama. For some, a comedy. For some, an absurdity.

Interviewer: That’s no different from not answering! ==

NPSS: But that’s the correct answer.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: What’s the relationship between Tianzhen and ‘It’? Your Majesty, care to give a spoiler? ==

NPSS: No relationship. [TN: ‘No relationship’ and ‘No problem’ are the same phrase, hence the subsequent answer.]

Interviewer: Then go ahead and tell us. =w=

NPSS: No relationship.

Interviewer: … No relationship?

NPSS: Yup. No relationship.

Interviewer: … ==

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu about the plan for DMBJ, when might you finish it?

NPSS: 2010.

NPSS: The problem is…

Interviewer: What?

NPSS: There is an unexpected situation.

Interviewer: Don’t give us cliffhanger sentences. Just tell us. ==

NPSS: Maybe [??? Something about being possessed ???]. I might work on it till 2050.

Interviewer: Hey!

NPSS: It’s great.

Interviewer: Might as well make it a Gundam series. [TN: Gundam is referring to the Japanese anime series. I guess they’re making a joke about how he should turn it into a never ending universe / entire franchise.]

NPSS: Conan never grows up. Wu Xie will never get old either. [TN: Conan is referring to Detective Conan, another Japanese anime series.]

NPSS: Even when you all become old, Wu Xie in the book will still be pursuing the answer to all the mysteries.

Interviewer: And if it’s with Lao Meng forever mutually loving and caring, then we have no objections.

NPSS: Fifty years, Golden Wedding [TN: Think he’s referring to Golden Wedding as the 50th anniversary].

Interviewer: Yes, yes. Don’t know if there will be a son. (Tea) (Silence) [TN: I guess the actions indicate ‘sipping tea awkwardly in silence’]

Interviewer: Alright, His Majesty has become shy. Let’s continue onto the next question.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Interviewer: If we may ask what the Menyouping’s ending will be? Will he find his memories? Continue to live on? Your Majesty can’t because of Classmate 370 [TN: Rumors are this is NPSS’s classmate? Potential prototype for ZQL? See ref.] once scorned your [??? finger ???], you end up holding a grudge?

NPSS: Whether or not you can ‘fujoshi’ for 50 years is uncertain. [TN: Word is ‘fu’, which literal = ‘rotten’; but refers to fujoshi. AKA he’s questioning how long they’ll ship pingxie for.]

Interviewer: No worries. In the future, there will appear a lot of Li Yinhe grannies. [TN: Seems to refer to this LGBTQ activist.]

NPSS: Hands / feet have not fallen off, OK? [TN: I’m not sure what this is referring to lol. Maybe some play on the rotten nature of fujoshi.]

Interviewer: Hands / feet… the whole body?

NPSS: The meaning of ‘entirely not fallen off’ is ‘entirely not fallen off’. [TN: Idk I’m lost...]

Interviewer: … ==

Interviewer: Your Majesty, your resentment for 370 is too deep…

NPSS: Menyouping’s ending will definitely surprise you all. It’s definitely not something that can be conceptually considered at all.

Interviewer: Could it be that he really will be mutually loving and caring with Tianzhen? == It’s not in concept…

NPSS: Hn. That’s a nice thought. [TN: Tone reads a little like ‘ha, as if’.]

NPSS: Like, turn him into a woman or something. Or is it Wu Xie who turns into a woman?

NPSS: “Actually, I’m a flat-chested Mary Sue.” [TN: Lol, yes. They refer to Mary Sue omg.]

Interviewer: … hey now… == Speaking of Mary Sues, after Yun Cai is it Xiu Xiu? Your Majesty, you wouldn’t gift Yun Cai to Lao Meng, and Xiu Xiu to Wu Xie, right? ==

NPSS: Maybe I’ll write Lily stories. [TN: I think Lily stories refers to femslash / stories between two females.]

NPSS: Don’t underestimate my pervertedness.

Interviewer: I’ve never underestimated it… (serious)

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Interviewer: If we may ask what Sanshu’s current weight is? Are you losing weight? Hahahah (Hands akimbo)

NPSS: Now it’s probably a little less than 200 jin. [TN: ~220 pounds.] I’m always in the middle of losing weight, but fat really likes me.

Interviewer: Your Majesty, you should continue to make effort to cosplay Pangzi.

NPSS: I think I will exceed Pangzi’s category soon, cosplay a huge monster instead.

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Interviewer: When will the DMBJ movie be released? Who will play Pingzi? To be honest, I don't want to watch. ==

NPSS: Probably around 2015. I don’t know. Hope it’s not [??? black people ???]. [TN: Yeah that’s what it says, but idk if it’s a reference to type of personalities or it actually is referring to skin color. Wouldn’t surprise me if it were a racist remark. China, sigh.]

Interviewer: Could it be there really will be a movie?

NPSS: Probably.

Interviewer: In America?

NPSS: I can’t say I understand / know Hollywood’s situation.

Interviewer: So it’s America… (Tears running) Too tragic!

NPSS: Hei Xiaoge [TN: Lol I think he’s saying a black young lad] is also not bad.

Interviewer: No! No! No!

NPSS: A-ning has already been designated the female lead by a foreign scriptwriter.

Interviewer: Oooh ~~~ We don’t want to see ghosts ~~~ [TN: Idk what this expression is…]

NPSS: Little D might be able to accept. [TN: Idk who Little D is… might just be a slang way of writing ‘little brother’, in which case, I still don’t know if that’s referring to himself or someone else.]

Interviewer: I guess he will squeak along with me. [TN: Again… I’m lost.] Nope cannot anymore. Next question.

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Interviewer: Will there be romance?

NPSS: [??? Eloquent love ???] will have porn scenes.

Interviewer: … who and who?

NPSS: Not sure yet. One party should not be human.

Interviewer: Heavy tastes, Your Majesty.

NPSS: Tentacles.

Interviewer: …… Your Majesty, are you playing some XXOO games recently? [TN: I’m just gonna assume some hentai shit here.]

NPSS: Nope. Haven’t played in a long time. Got any good suggestions?

Interviewer: [??? The imperial doctor has ghost glasses ???] [TN: Guess it’s the title?] Try it (rubs hands).

NPSS: I’m currently still holding out strong.

Interviewer: Gee… what a pity.

NPSS: You can train your boyfriend.

Interviewer: He’s already very calm.

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Interviewer: Pingzi is so good to Wu Xie, any particular reason? I mean deep underlying reason? For example, knowing the truth about Wu Xie’s life / existence or something. Or being entrusted by Wu Xie’s family or something. Or he thinks he’s brought Wu Xie harm and wants to redeem himself or something.

NPSS: Just doesn’t want to disturb.

Interviewer: Huh? What?

NPSS: Don’t want to disturb.

Interviewer: Disturb what?

NPSS: Tianzhen Wu Xie [TN: Remember, this means ‘innocent, naive, and pure’]. The prompt is very deep now. [TN: Sounds like he’s saying he’s given a deep hint now.]

Interviewer: Oh (Actually someone who doesn’t really understand). [TN: GLAD I’M NOT ALONE! IT’S NOT A TRANSLATION ISSUE!]

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Interviewer: Are there new Lunar New Year Celebratory Extras this year? [TN: NPSS writes occasional extras, and often will publish on special occasions like Lunar New Year.]

NPSS: 2010’s publishing work was too heavy. Can’t celebrate. I even wrote the outline already.

Interviewer: That’s such a pity. What about Tibetan Sea Flower. I’m still waiting for the lama that has JQ with Lao Meng. [TN: They use the term JQ here… seems like slang for something like bromance.]

NPSS: Ah little living Buddha… probably can’t write. [TN: Yeah idk what that really means…] Due to religious issues, living Buddha’s chrysanthemum is very sensitive. Huge crawling creatures will come and bombard. [TN: IDK BUT CHRYSANTHEMUMS ARE OFTEN EUPHEMISMS FOR THE ANUS AND GAY BUTT SEX SO IDK.]

Interviewer: Hey… ==

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Interviewer: Qinling Sacred Tree arc was too mysterious. Will Sanshu later be connected to the Sacred Tree? If so, how will you do it? I think DMBJ is not as thrilling / exciting as before. Can you still return to that previous style?

NPSS: There are no plans at present to connect Qinling. I need to settle Meng first. The core of what’s being written is his business. The excitement of DMBJ is not found in the novel but in the heart of the reader. The reader will upgrade / improve while reading.

Interviewer: Is that so… (Eats late night food) [TN: Idk what this expression means.]

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Interviewer: Will you still publish new books and dig new plot holes? == Besides this official vest of Nanpai Sanshu, do you have anything else? Like diving party? == [TN: Yeah idk what that means…]

NPSS: Doesn’t returning to the original style of writing offer you some thrilling / excitement? Your heart has already upgraded, it’s just that the novel is still like that.

Interviewer: Heart! ==||| [TN: Yes, this is another face lol]

NPSS: There’s still some more. Like Nangongling. [TN: Name of the interviewer, but I have no idea what this means.]

Interviewer: The watch drags me underwater. [TN: I got nothing *shrugs*.]

NPSS: Actually are we answering our own questions?

Interviewer: Haha, fun right?

NPSS: Indeed. Could it be a split personality? Never thought my hidden personality is a Fujoshi. Tragedy.

Interviewer: Hey I didn’t say my hidden personality was a perverted uncle yet. (Two bored idiots stare in silence for a few seconds)

Interviewer: Enough. Next.

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Interviewer: Pingzi’s age… is it ‘uncle’ or ‘grandpa’? Anyway, I know it’s not ‘brother’. [TN: They’re referring to which generation basically.]

NPSS: Taizu Grandfather [TN: Basically hella old… great-great-great-great-great-grandfather?]

Interviewer: Wow… paleontology relic?

NPSS: Age must be in the triple digits.

Interviewer: Old monster! I like it! Just afraid that next to Tianzhen, he seems younger (talking to self)

NPSS: Tianzhen is even older. Quadruple digits.

Interviewer: Really is younger? ==

NPSS: They all end up in the museum display.

Interviewer: Does it cost anything to visit? Museums are now free / open to visit.

NPSS: After hour events charge fees. There are special programs, but the TV station will not allow them to be broadcasted.

Interviewer: Strip tease / dancing?

NPSS: No. It’s the old monster [TN: Probably referring to ZQL] performing Xiangsheng [TN: Some Chinese duo comedy schtick]. Xie Ling [TN: I think this is Wu Xie + Zhang Qiling?] social / not-famous Xiangsheng actors.

Interviewer: Looks like it will be Two-Person Turn Opera [TN: Idk if there is an English term for this… but another type of skit it seems.]

NPSS: Wear the dancing shoes. [TN: I think it’s just this?]

Interviewer: … It’s so cold… Your Majesty…

NPSS: Zhang Wenling, Wu Wenxie [TN: Lol I guess this would be their comedy stage names. It’s extra / intentionally stupid because all he did was insert ‘wen’ which means ‘literature’.]

Interviewer: Enough… Don’t worry about this anymore. I’m gonna move onto the next question.

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Interviewer: Is Wu Xie the most tragic character in the entire novel? Is it inevitable that, between him and Pingzi, one of them will have to die in the end?

NPSS: Wu Xie’s fate as the most tragic is a set tragedy, but Lao Zhang doesn’t have it easy either.

Interviewer: And then?

NPSS: Delayed the inevitable tragedy.

Interviewer: And then they encountered tragedy together?

NPSS: Using [his] own lifetime to exchange you another decade of innocence and purity.

Interviewer: … (wailing) (too stunned) Lao Meng [??? became the Virgin Mary???] (smashes wall)

NPSS: I also want to get a cult.

Interviewer: Does Lao Meng really not have a crush on Tianzhen? It can’t continue like this. DMBJ is still a serious / proper drama after all.

NPSS: Nah. It’s serious / proper.

Interviewer: But what you said is crooked.

NPSS: Alright. Then let’s put it this way.

Interviewer: How?

NPSS: Comrade Zhang Qiling sacrificed his own time to save and prevent the disillusionment of a youth who was about to go astray. [TN: Yeah… not too sure about the implications of this.]

Interviewer: …. Your Majesty, you [??? use soulmates ???] [TN: I’m really not sure about this… context and definitions I found seems to indicate it’s a soulmate like thing, but also used kind of queerbaity?]

NPSS: I’ve been working real closely with soulmate recently.

Interviewer: We can tell. Next question. Best leave some room for free thought.

NPSS: It’d be fine if you just don’t post it.

Interviewer: This is iron proof of JQ! [TN: Again, some internet slang for bromance / malexmale CPs or something.]

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Interviewer: Are all the incomprehensible things that happened so far man-made? Or will it be explained by the supernatural?

NPSS: There’s nothing incomprehensible.

Interviewer: Probably in reference to Qinling.

NPSS: Oh. Doesn’t that count as a spoiler?

Interviewer: … then let’s skip again. Actually, I thought you already forgot about Qinling.

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Interviewer: What is Pangzi’s little secret?

NPSS: Xiao Pang’s [TN: Little Fat’s] tragic past.

Interviewer: What… Pangzi is also quite tragic.

NPSS: Probably a ‘fought with his best friend over a woman and was hurt very badly’ kind of relationship. Pangzi had a very simple but tragic love.

Interviewer: Sad…. == You really can’t tell…

NPSS: A woman he promised to take care of for a lifetime and a brother he can’t help but save.

Interviewer: Pangzi has sublimed (victory fist] [TN: I assume ‘sublime’, which literally means converting from solid directly to gas, is just representative of a massive promotion or rise into awesomeness.]

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Interviewer: I’m always thinking of Ershu’s mysterious air. Does he know a lot of things that others don’t? I also want to know what Wu Xie’s dad does.

NPSS: [??? Location scouting ???]

Interviewer: Ershu?

NPSS: He knows some.

Interviewer: Then what about his dad.

NPSS: Location scouting. Totally innocent. Just like Jesus’s old man.

Interviewer: What kind analogy is that… == Next.

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Interviewer: Hey Sanshu, on Dec 9, 2009 at 02:58 in the morning I dreamt of you. Did you dream of me? …. == Your Majesty, your fans [TN: Yeah idk.]

NPSS: That night I seem to have pulled an all-nighter. I wouldn’t mind dreaming again tonight.

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Interviewer: Will Pingzi eventually return to being a normal human? Live on from the age of 18? Has he had a lover / children before? Yun Cai? Is Pangzi the boss or the person coming to supervise the boss (Tianzhen)?

Interviewer: Lao Meng… I’ve long since been speechless towards him. By the way, was he always this kind of stone in the latrine? [TN: I guess a saying about how he’s stuffy and expressionless per usual.]

NPSS: No. It used to be really bad.

Interviewer: …How bad…

NPSS: Like a Tibetan horse. [TN: Lol this is the literal translation but when I Googled it, Kurama from Yu Yu Hakusho came up and hahaha I guess it kind of makes sense as an analogy?]

Interviewer: Your Majesty, your definition of really bad is Kurama’s level huh…= =|| So he wasn’t born latrine stone… [TN: Ok, so background on Kurama - an infamous fox demon thief escaped into the body of a newborn child because his spirit was weakened after being hunted, and so he cohabits the body with this boy… I’m not entirely sure of the reference jousting here.]

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Interviewer: What happens to Pangzi in the end?

NPSS: Dies of old age.

Interviewer: How mundane!

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Interviewer: We want to know when DMBJ 7 will be finished?

NPSS: 3/15-20 complete.

Interviewer: (Recommends to everyone not to believe… ==)

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Interviewer: Sanshu, will someone die at the end of DMBJ? (Alright I only care about MengMeng and Tianzhen and believe Pangzi will definitely not be killed off). Also, just how many volumes will there be?

Interviewer: How many die, I also want to know. [TN: Lol they also use the counter word not for humans, but… something else?].

NPSS: There will be someone half-dead. Because it’s a grave-robbing novel, dying completely will never happen. A-ning died and still comes around often, right? [TN: Lol I’m not entirely sure what this is in reference to… first part he’s making a joke that people can become zombies, but second part… I don’t really recall A-ning coming back? Unless he means in mentions? Then again I’m still making my way through the novels.] Just that you go from hero to villain. I still haven’t decided how many to kill off. Anyways for the last volume, with the exception of Wu Xie, [??? anyone can be killed ???].

Interviewer: …Just kill everyone why don’t you; it’s easier. (self-destruct) ==

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Interviewer: May we ask Sanshu, will Pingzi have emotional drama in the future?

NPSS: No. No time / effort for that, and communication skills are limited.

Interviewer: Ahaha….

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Interviewer: Normally, will Sanshu come check out our Tieba? [TN: Kind of like Chinese reddit I believe?] Do you know the Warm Fox? [TN: I did a quick search, seems like a big fandom name that interprets a lot of the DMBJ stuff.]

NPSS: Don’t know.

Interviewer: As expected…

NPSS: It’s your husband?

Interviewer: Hey don’t involve me in everything. (Flips table)

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Interviewer: Just out of personal interest… I really want to know if Xie Lianhuan likes Wenjin?

NPSS: Uh, yes. Very much so.

Interviewer: Then what about Wu Sanxing?

NPSS: Also likes her.

Interviewer: So it turns out to be a crime of passion… (awakened)

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Interviewer: Is Yun Cai just an inconsequential character? Those Huo family Forbidden Ladies won’t have some sort of emotional development with Pingxie, right? [TN: It does say Huo family Forbidden Ladies… I guess they might be referring to Huo Xiu Xiu, but not sure why there’s multiple. Also, recall that the Forbidden Lady is that tomb creature.]

NPSS: Huo family really did become Forbidden Lady professional household [TN: Maybe like a ‘firm’?]. Yun Cai’s ending is also quite tragic.

Interviewer: Indeed. If transmigrating, don’t transmigrate into DMBJ. [TN: Transmigrate is the common c-drama trope where someone in modern times / average suddenly wakes up in the body of some one in the past or something.] Female beings all have no good outcome.

NPSS: If you’ve already died once, then there’s no need to be afraid.

Interviewer: Oh yeah, will that pink-shirt show face again? (Xlaugh) [TN: Idk this expression, but I think pink-shirt is referring to Xiaohua.]

NPSS: Yes. [??? Young Lord of Solutions ???] Grave-Robbing Prince.

Interviewer: Ahhhhh~~great~~~ >///<~~ The Old Nine Gates [??? Admirals ???], right? … Then Xiao Hei [TN: Hei Xiazi / Hei Yanjing] also has a role?

NPSS: Yup.

Interviewer: The descendants of the Old Nine Gates [??? Admirals ???] are nine golden men? =w=

NPSS: One isn’t. 8 men. 1 woman.

Interviewer: The female is Huo family Forbidden Lady, right?

NPSS: Yup. Counting her.

Interviewer: So that means Tianzhen still has 7 in his harem… Damn, catching up to Cracked Pot’s bunch of shiny guardians. [TN: Idk what that is in reference to.]

NPSS: Cracked Pot? What’s that? [TN: Yay I’m not the only one!]

Interviewer: Cough Cough. Your Majesty, you don’t need to know.

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Interviewer: Will Sanshu come to Nanning for an autograph session?

NPSS: Nanning? Need a Nanning bookstore to invite me.

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Interviewer: If we may ask Lao San [TN: Still referring to NPSS], from Wu Xie’s (or Pangzi’s) perspective, where does Menyouping stand? Just a ‘person who stands on our side’? [TN: Refers to when ZQL told them he was a person on their side.]

NPSS: Now it should be like a son’s role / part.

Interviewer: What? Son? ==

NPSS: A very promising son.

Interviewer: Is Wu Xie having the ‘My son has grown up’ old mother mentality?

NPSS: Not really. More like, my son has bad memory or something.

Interviewer: Wu Xie he is indeed [??? person wife ???] [TN: Uh... term used was 人\妻 which when Googled had the first link to pornhub lol. But I think the slang used is actually this.]

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Interviewer: In Sanshu’s day to day, how often does you use code words? Or is it scrunching your feet and thinking on it for a month or two before coming up with something? [TN: I think they’re referring to Sanshu as in NPSS and not Wu Sanxing Sanshu?]

NPSS: It’s usually simultaneously [??? buckling ???] and eating and typing.

Interviewer: Does it taste good?

NPSS: Often get stomachaches.

Interviewer: …Very toxic huh…

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Interviewer: Can you fill the bit plothole of Sanshu’s storytelling? Your Majesty, do you have any filled pits? == (Hides face)

NPSS: I promised my father I would fill them before he turns 70.

NPSS: [??? New Year’s Eve pieces ???]

Interviewer: How old is his esteemed Majesty’s father?

NPSS: 60.

Interviewer: …. (speechless)

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Interviewer: What kind of person is Wu Xie’s mother?

NPSS: Wu Xie’s mother is probably a strong / great woman.

Interviewer: I think so too.

NPSS: Beautiful but strict and fierce, which is why Dad is rather pathetic / a good-for-nothing.

Interviewer: Queens are great. Queens usually marry good-for-nothings. [TN: The ‘queen’ here is literally ‘female king’, so more implies a female ruler.] ==

Interviewer: In the end, did Wu Xie inherit his dad’s genes?

NPSS: Wu Xie also has a very dark personality.

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NPSS: I’m nearly at my limit…

Interviewer: Same here… (sleepy)

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Interviewer: If we may ask Sanshu, if excluding psychological factors, in terms of human nature, do you think Pingxie is suitable?

NPSS: I think, the two of them together. Neither can earn money. Parents on both side would not agree.

Interviewer: Can it not be one steals and the other sells stolen goods?

NPSS: At the very least, Wu Xie needs to get admitted to a civil service position. [TN: These are stable job positions lol]

Interviewer: Looks like Lao Meng eats soft rice! [TN: A saying that refers to men who lives off of women lol. Basically that the woman supports the man instead of the expected vice versa.]

NPSS: And also will need to buy a house in Hangzhou.

Interviewer: … Too realistic… == [TN: Lol no joke this is exactly how couples get ‘permission’ to marry each other by the families… Hangzhou housing prices are not cheap either. I was born there and visit often… those prices have gone uuuuuuup.]

(And the two are dozing off)

NPSS: Let’s end it. I can’t hold on anymore.

Interviewer: Ok…

(The physically / mentally exhausted two rolled off to sleep, interview unfinished… ==)

~ End Interview

Whew that was a long ride. NPSS is such a troll lol... 😅I don’t know nearly enough Chinese slang / internet speak to parse this properly, but the general gist is there.

#dmbj #daomubiji #daomu biji #pingxie #interview #translation #the lost tomb #the lost tomb reboot #zhang qiling #wu xie #wang pangzi #ultimate note

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seoafin · 3 years

Note

YES THANK YOU FOR TALKING ABOUT G*NSHIN!!!! dont forget people who call zhongli sensei even tho he's litcherally chinese. and like especially when in universe there is a whole ass other country based on japan, you can tell these people think all asian countries are interchangeable 🙄

not to get too off topic but i also hate the way a lot of people characterize zhongli and how so much content revolves around shipping. like this isnt even just a genshin thing but fandom as a whole where they will ignore the bigger picture in favour of a ship 😐 and dont even get me started on how female characters will often be forgotten or hated for literally no reason 🔪🔪🔪🔪

anyways thanks for letting me vent here, your brain is huge and your ass is fat <3

this message is sexy and so are you 😍😍😍 and my askbox is always open to rants about fandom racism 😁

look. i don’t even play genshin lmao but the amount of buffoonery perpetuated by the western fandom is so gross. for some reason im on genshin tiktok and every couple of scrolls i see some racist bullshit and nobody calling it out in the comments. then you get the weebs talking about how the jpn dub is soooo good and in the same breath they’ll bash the original chinese translation. nice. 💀

SFNJDSKFSDFKS YOU JUST OPENED A CAN OF WORMS because i could literally talk for hours about how looking at everything through shipping lenses is rotting our brains. not everything needs to be about ships. i love satosugu with my whole heart but it’s gone to the point where I can’t talk about gojo and geto as individuals without someone bringing up how they’re soulmates??? and it grinds my gears because gojo and geto are integral to each other’s characters and play such a big role in each other’s respective character arcs/developements that reducing all of that??? to shipping??? when they aren’t even canon??? it’s such a fucking disservice to their characters it honestly makes me mad!!! not everything needs to revolve around ships. there’s nothing wrong with it but there’s a time and place for that, and some ppl just want to critically analyze jjk and its themes and characters without having to hear about ships......

also. it takes away from reading manga in general. how many things will you miss because you’re too busy looking for the slightest indication that your ship may be “canon”? It traps you in a shipping mindset.

in the end some ppl are missing out!!! i promise there is joy/entertainment in consuming (not even anime but all media) outside of ships. manga is so much more fun when you’re able to derive thematic value/motifs/etc from it!!! in the end we’re all here to have fun but i do think it adds a lot to the reading experience, a lot more than ppl think 😁

#some ppl need to learn the meaning of subtext bc i always see that word floating around whenever it comes to gay shonen ships LMAOOOO #i understand shipping and there IS value in it contrary to what im saying but i think my biggest issue is how it proliferates everything #as you can see....im a very big proponent of people critically consuming their media #in the end I think like everything shipping is good but in moderation #anyway ill shut up now but !!! ik shipping is very fun i ship too it's just kinda tiring sometimes #ask #anon #diskhorse

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nanoland · 3 years

Text

Ponder on the Narrow House

fandom: Lucifer

main characters: Mazikeen, Eve, Michael

pairings: Mazikeen/Eve/Michael

summary: In which Mazikeen isn't finished with Michael yet.

warnings: Violence, gun violence, trauma, dehumanization, outdoor sex.

In 2019, Fodor’s had crowned LAX the worst airport on Planet Earth, comparing it – much to Mazikeen’s amusement – to Dante Alighieri’s Hell.

She couldn’t comment on the comparison’s accuracy; she’d never read Divina Comedia. Human poetry bored her.

Up against the real thing, however? Hell was quieter, cleaner, and smelt better than Los Angeles International, and it wasn’t even close.

Granted, Mazikeen was biased. Hell was her home and she liked it quite a lot. But surely even a human – even an angel – would sooner take a stint in one of Lucifer’s loops than spend more than thirty minutes in Terminal 3.

Yet there he was, leaning against the wall, watching the bustling crowd with a faint smile on his face, like a man in the park resting his eyes on the ducks. Perfectly content.

“Do you know,” he said as she approached him, “that around forty percent of all humans are scared of flying?”

She hadn’t been sure how this encounter would go and, being innately practical, had dressed accordingly. Black satin skirt, flattering and loose enough to both conceal several demon daggers (invisible to the full-body scanner she’d just sauntered through) and not impede her reaction time in a fight. Red silk wrap blouse, easily unwrapped to serve as a garrotte or tourniquet. Hair down, curled, dyed pitch black with bronze-gold streaks – possibly a tactical disadvantage if he grabbed it, but possibly a distraction. She knew he liked her hair.

When she was satisfied he wasn’t about to lunge for her throat, she took a gamble and moved in to lean against the wall alongside him, following his gaze. “Not surprising. Think of it from their perspective. They don’t have wings. Actually – huh. I guess that’s a perspective you can sympathise with now.”

He sneered. “You’re trying to bait me, Miss Mazikeen. That’s cute. But I’m not in the mood, dollface. This? This is me time. I’ve had a shitty few days and I came here specifically to soak up these idiot mortals’ fear and chill out. Get lost. Go play with my twin if you’re so starved for entertainment.”

Mazikeen stretched. “That’s the problem. He’s hanging out with the rest of your lousy family. Gabriel. Raziel. Jophiel. Now that he’s in charge, they’re all trying to crawl up his ass. It’s pathetic. And annoying.”

His jaw clenched and she knew exactly what he was thinking: ‘That should have been me.’

“Also,” she added, after a pause, “they don’t like me. Most of them have never met a demon. There’s no outright hostility but… they talk to me like I’m some gross exotic pet Lucifer found and adopted.”

“They’re afraid of you.”

“Bullshit.”

“Nope. I’m wrong about some things. Never about fear. They can tell how much you matter to him, how much he’d do for you and vis versa, and it scares them shitless. Chloe Decker they can understand – she was Dad’s gift, after all. You, though? Lucy was never supposed to love you. No one was.”

She fiddled with her earring; big, gold, shaped like a swallow with rubies dotting its tail feathers. A gift from Eve. “Whatever. Anyway, that’s why I’m here. With you. Instead of them. You’re the worst, most obnoxious, most cowardly creep ever. I mean it. Christ, do you suck. But you always talked to me like I was a person. Right from the beginning.”

Ugliness flared behind his eyes. “Seriously? Now you’re being nice? Lucifer sent his general to console me? Ha! That’s how pitiful he thinks I am?”

“Pfft – no. Lucifer doesn’t give a crap about you. I’m here because I wanna offer you a job, moron.”

“A… job.”

“Yep. Ever heard of ‘bounty-hunting’?”

He nodded. Slowly. Smirking, she pushed off the wall and twirled on her six-inch heels to face him.

“Here’s the thing, o Angel of Dread; I’ve spent centuries in Hell learning how to terrify people. I look at you and you know what I see? Potential. Sure, you’re rough around the edges. Still got some celestial baby fat clinging to you. Still a little squeamish when it comes to certain tricks of the trade. But Mikey, honey, six months under my tutelage and I think we can turn you into a bona fide fucking nightmare.”

She let the skin on her face’s left side melt away and grinned at him. “So? How about it?”

“Eh,” he said after taking one last glance around the terminal. “Fuck it. Why not? Nothing better to do.”

“Los Angeles is kinda like me,” Mazikeen told him, taking off her red-lensed cat-eye sunglasses as she strutted down the pier.

“Doesn’t have a soul?”

A withering glare. “Tough. Pretty on the outside, mean on the inside. It’s easy to make enemies around here and when you’ve made ‘em, you need to stay on your toes. Stay nimble. Stay mobile. Ready to fight or flee at any moment.”

Michael nodded. “And that’s how you justify living on a tugboat.”

“Ahoy!” called Eve, standing on the deck in a polka dot bikini and pirate hat Mazikeen had presumably stolen for her off the set of some summer blockbuster or other being shot nearby, the salty breeze playing with her hair.

“It’s a yacht,” Mazikeen growled.

“No. That’s a yacht,” Michael replied, pointing to the gleaming white MCY 70 Skylounge docked nearby. “What you have is a glorified raft that can, at best, accommodate two people and maybe a toaster.”

He should, perhaps, be trying harder to ingratiate himself with his new boss.

But he was tired.

Getting in his face, she snapped, “Hey! That’s our headquarters, asshole. Show some respect.”

“It’s covered in seagull crap. It looks older than me. There’s a very obvious bloodstain on the helm. Jesus, doesn’t Lucifer pay you?”

She pushed him into the sea.

Offering him a hand when he bobbed to the surface, Eve said, “Don’t take it personally. She’s just mad because we weren’t able to steal a bigger one.”

It was while Michael was towelling himself dry down below decks that the chunky-faced cop wandered in, took one look at him, and strode across the room.

“Mister Espinoza,” he drawled, “what can I-… oh. Oh, wow, you really thought that was going to work, huh?”

Curled up on the floor, clutching the fist he’d very mistakenly slammed into Michael’s jaw, Dan hissed, “Fuck you. You killed me.”

“Poppycock. I had you killed. That’s entirely different, buddy.”

Dan staggered to his feet and shouted, “Maze! Eve! What the hell is he doing here?”

Taking off his wet jacket and draping it over the rack alongside the towel, Michael said, “I was invited, thank you very much. No one told me you were part of the arrangement.”

“What arrangement, asshole?” Dan snapped, turning red. “I’m just here to help Maze fix her boat’s engine.”

“Oh. You don’t work with her, then? No, I suppose you wouldn’t. As we’ve established, you’re entirely too killable.”

“You sleazy son-of-a… Maze! Get down here!”

Grumbling, Michael’s new boss stalked below deck carrying a crate of beer on her left shoulder and a sleeping bag under her right arm. “Goddammit – Dan, I told you to wait. Is your hand bleeding, you big meathead? We seriously just dragged your ass out of Hell and you couldn’t go two whole days before breaking yourself again? Ugh. You’re impossible. You’re worse than Decker.”

“Maze, d’you wanna explain what the actual fuck Lucifer’s psycho twin is doing here?”

“Interning,” Michael said, cheerfully.

His face now practically purple, Dan half-yelled, “What is he talking about? This is not okay, Maze! Does Chloe know? Does Amenadiel? Why is he even still on Earth? Lucifer’s God now; can’t he stick him on Mars or turn him into a bug or something?”

“Look, Dan, just calm down-…” she began.

“I died! I actually, literally, physically died! Because of him! No, I’m not going to calm down!”

Michael scoffed. “Please. Like that’s what you’re really upset about. You’re not angry about dying. You’re not angry at all. You’re scared, buttercup. And not just of me; of her, of Lucifer, of everything, and to be honest, I didn’t even need to use the ol’ angel juice to work that out.”

Mazikeen set down her cargo, pulled a knife from her belt, and flung it. It embedded itself five inches deep in the floor between them. “This? This is not Lux, dickheads. Mortals and celestials don’t hang out here to have a good time while I sit behind the bar and tolerate them. This crummy, crusty-ass, piece of crap boat is my domain. Here, I don’t have to put up with one femtometre of your bullshit. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else. If you want to fuck, do it quick and clean up afterwards. If you want to make yourselves useful, help me get the weapons on board.”

“Wait – wait, weapons? What weapons?” said Dan to her retreating back. “You said you were going fishing. Maze! What weapons?”

“Where’s all your stuff?” Eve asked when she showed him to his tiny cabin.

“I’m an archangel. I don’t have ‘stuff’.”

(Michael had already decided he didn’t like her. She was bubbly.)

“Heh. You should travel with Lucy sometime. We went to Vancouver for a weekend and he brought seven bags, five watches, and six pairs of shoes. Okay, do you – uh, do you at least have a change of clothes? Because those look kinda soggy.”

To his annoyance – and embarrassment – she spend twenty minutes hunting down a shirt and pants that would fit him.

“They’re mine,” she said, dropping them into his lap. “But I bought them to sleep in and I like loose pyjamas, so they’re a dozen sizes too big on me. Oh! Also found you this.”

She presented a hot water bottle in the shape of a fat, cuddly sheep.

He accepted it carefully, wondering if it was booby-trapped. “You’re Lucifer’s ex, right?”

“Er… yep? Amongst other things. The Original Sinner. First Woman, First Wife, First Mother. Mother of Mankind. Second Human. First Knowledgeable Human. But sure, I was also your brother’s girlfriend for a while.”

“And now you’re Mazikeen’s. Do you also work with her?”

“Sure do!” she said, interpreting the question as an invitation to sit down next to him. “I’m The Choronzon’s captain. That’s our boat’s name. My idea. I know she’s not much to look at but she’s got so much history. There’ve been fourteen homicides on her! Plus, she’s fast; way, way faster than she looks. And I know the beds are hard, but we’ve got three hammocks stashed away and getting them set up is easy as pie.”

“Wow. Those suckers up in the Silver City don’t know what they’re missing.”

She nodded, blinking slowly. “Hmm. Maze was right. You are mean. That’s cool. I get on well with mean people. Anyway, just in case she hasn’t told you; we’ve got a job lined up and we’ll be setting sail tomorrow at dawn. You get seasick? Not a problem; we’ve got a medical kit full of antiemetics. On that note, should we pick up something for you before we leave shore?”

“No.”

“You sure? Just that – uh – I mean, my third son, Seth, the one nobody talks about – he also had pretty severe scoliosis. Wasn’t a whole lot we could do about it back then. But these days they’ve got tons of stuff; opiods and anti-inflammatories and memory foam. Science is so, so cool. And I’m going shopping for sunscreen anyway, so dropping by the pharmacy wouldn’t be a problem.”

For a moment, he reviewed a list of responses that would deeply, profoundly hurt her, responses that would ensure she didn’t approach him again.

But he was tired, tired, tired.

“Here.”

He took a folded piece of A4 paper from his pocket and handed it to her. “These are what the last human doctor I went to recommended. Getting hold of those three I’ve circled is tricky, but I know a guy. Call him on that number down there and he’ll meet you wherever. If he gives you any trouble, remind him that Michael knows about the vacuum cleaner. That’ll shut him up.”

As soon as she’d bounced out of the room, he shut the door, locked it, and laid down to sleep.

It was night when he awoke.

He went upstairs to find Mazikeen and Eve sitting on the deck, admiring what stars could be seen through Los Angeles’ perpetual light pollution and sharing a pizza.

“Mickey! Get over here,” called Mazikeen, clad in a black dressing down and slippers shaped like plump pink pigs.

“It’s freezing,” he complained.

She snickered and threw him the prickly blanket that had been resting over her knees. “Wimp. Eve told you about the job, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know how to use any weapons?” Eve asked. “Maze sticks with her knives most of the time. I prefer my traps and crossbow. But we’ve got guns, if that’s more your speed.”

They were clearly expecting him to sit down. Eve had even scooted to the left to make room.

He opened the blanket up and wrapped it around his shoulders, remaining standing. “Can I ask a question? What, precisely, is my role here?”

“For now, you’re a meat shield,” said Mazikeen, talking through a mouthful of pepperoni and violently yellow cheese. “Me and Eve are both vulnerable to bullets. I mean – I’m less vulnerable, obviously. But I don’t hate any of my relatives enough to go about finding out exactly how many bullets it takes to snuff a demon. So your job, at least tomorrow, is just to soak up enemy fire until we’ve got our hands on the target.”

Scowling, he said, “Getting shot does hurt, you know.”

“Yeah,” she replied, eyes shining with spite. “Dan sure seemed to think so.”

When the tense silence had stretched for over thirty seconds, Eve clapped her hands, smiling anxiously, and said, “So! Anyone up for rummy?”

Along the California coastline, the cruise ship Illustrious Voyager bore four thousand three hundred and ten passengers, one thousand two hundred and ninety-six crewmembers, and two guide dogs.

Five thousand six hundred and eight souls, in total.

At around 4pm, without anyone noticing, that number became five thousand six hundred and nine.

Hands clasped behind her back, Eve strolled down the promenade, admiring the vessel’s size and beauty. This fresh new millennium’s wealth astonished her. Sickened, sometimes. Entranced, sometimes. But always astonished.

Back in the garden, they’d slept on and under rocks. When it rained, they got wet. When large animals came by, they hid. No weapons. No shelter. No blankets. The only resource they’d had in abundance was food. Good grief – so much food. God had been so proud of all the different fruits and nuts and mushrooms he’d made available to them, and Adam had been so grateful. Eve supposed she had been, too.

It hadn’t stopped her from one day approaching her husband and the plump rabbits resting in his lap – two of several dozen pets – and asking if he didn’t think the cold nights would be much more endurable if they each had a warm pair of fur slippers.

Then she’d met Lucifer. Fallen in love. Bitten the apple. Learned how powerful he and his Father truly were. That was when the real questions, the sticky, prickly questions, had come bubbling up.

If Lucifer has such a vast family, with so many siblings, why can’t I have even one? she’d asked the sky. Why is Adam all I get?

And later: If You can simply bring people into existence, why must I scream and bleed and shit myself in order to have children? Am I doing it wrong? Is there another way? If there isn’t, why not?

And later: Why is nothing fair?

And, most recently, after meeting Mazikeen: Why isn’t everything at least equally unfair? Why do humans get a world of options while Maze and her family are expected to serve angels from birth to death? Why isn’t Maze allowed into Heaven, even after an eternity of loyalty and hard work?

“Sorry,” she said, flashing white teeth at a passing crewmember. “I’m trying to find a friend of mine. Can you tell me how to get to Room 835?”

Half an hour later, there was a splash and the ship’s population dropped to five thousand six hundred and seven.

Before binding his arms and legs, Eve had secured Andrew Bismarck’s lifejacket and gagged him. Furious and helpless, he bobbed alongside her as the ship moved on and Mazikeen rowed up in her inflatable raft, wearing a sunset-orange swimsuit.

“Should I be worried about those, babe?” she asked as she gripped Bismarck’s lifejacket and hauled him out of the water.

Eve smiled at the dolphin pod swimming in playful loops around her, and patted the nearest one’s nose. “No. They’re my friends.”

The inflatable wasn’t big enough for three people, so Eve held on to a friend’s dorsal fin and let him drag her back to The Choronzon.

Michael stood on the deck, looking bored. As they climbed aboard, their prisoner slung over Mazikeen’s shoulder, he drawled, “Seriously? This sad specimen’s worth two million dollars?”

“Actually, his net worth is eight hundred million,” said Mazikeen, dumping him down. “Two million is just what his ex-wife is willing and able to pay.”

Wringing out her hair, Eve added, “She took half his money in the divorce but she gave almost all of it to a chimpanzee shelter. I really like her!”

His lip curled. “How delightfully sordid. Isn’t this all a little beneath you, Ms Mazikeen? I mean, you’re a big deal in Hell. High Commander of Lucifer’s legions, head advisor to the king himself. Aren’t you worried taking jobs like this diminishes you?”

Busy handcuffing Bismarck to the railing, Mazikeen said, “Eve, honey? Do me a favour?”

“Boop!” Eve chirped, having already snuck up behind Michael, and pushed him overboard.

“I know it’s your whole gimmick,” Mazikeen called down as he splashed and spluttered, his face red with princely indignation. “And I know you don’t have a lot else going for you. But the next time you try that on me, I will stop being nice. Kapish?”

“Kapish,” he muttered.

The Choronzon had barely travelled a mile before Eve spotted Bismarck’s henchmen coming after them.

“Someone gimme details!” shouted Mazikeen, busy putting a bulletproof vest on over her bikini and opening up the box she’d told Dan contained a fishing rod, not a halberd.

Eve peered through her binoculars. “Two speedboats. Twelve guys on jet skis. Guns everywhere.”

“Heh. Awesome. Mickey – move that tight ass to the front and make like a nice juicy target.”

“Wait, what about-…” Michael began, trailing off as Mazikeen dove gracefully into the sea.

Bouncing from foot to foot, Eve shot him a grin. “Don’t look so glum, sourpuss. This is the fun part.”

She’d never spoken to Michael in Heaven, despite the millennia they’d both resided only two miles apart, her in a lakeside cottage on the outskirts of the Silver City, him in the crystal palace in its centre.

Granted, she’d not exactly had a warm and fuzzy relationship with any of Lucifer’s siblings. They all knew what had happened in the garden. Some had been nice – Amenadiel had visited often, even though he’d never had much to say and they’d spent their time together skipping stones across the lake’s surface. But the others had kept her at a distance. She was a bad influence.

Michael, however, was the only angel she’d not ever said one word to.

She’d seen him, now and then, in the early days, when she was the only human in Heaven and, as such, grudgingly invited to divine family get-togethers. On those occasions, she’d spent too much time feeling awkward and out-of-place to pay attention to the sullen figure lurking in whatever shadows were available. The one time she’d glanced his way, it had been to marvel at the stories of people getting the twins mixed up; beyond the raw basics of bone structure, Michael couldn’t have looked less like her old lover.

Bullets sprayed across the hull. Humming, Eve stepped daintily into Michael’s shadow, seconds before they started bouncing off his shoulders and chest.

“It is beneath her,” he muttered.

She made an ambiguous noise. “How d’you figure?”

There came a shout and a splash from the nearest jet ski. The bullets stopped.

“C’mon. She’s Mazikeen. Everyone in the Silver City knows about Mazikeen. Ordinarily, we couldn’t give two dry shits about Lucifer’s minions, but her? She’s a minor celebrity. The power behind Hell’s throne. Christ, it’s no secret my beloved twin couldn’t govern his way out of a paper bag.”

“Yeah,” she said, smiling fondly. “He’s kind of bad at everything. Except music. He’s a great musician.”

More shouting. More shooting. More bullets bouncing off Michael’s torso. Mazikeen rode by, one hand gripping her newly-acquired jet ski’s throttle lever, the other clutching her bloodstained halberd. Watching her circle the enemy, Eve was reminded of a sheep dog.

Michael went on: “And then there’s the fact that for a while, everyone thought Lucifer was going to marry her. It was all anyone could talk about. Jophiel was taking bets on when the proposal would happen. She’d have been High Commander and the Queen of Hell. Instead? All of a sudden, Lucifer takes an indefinite vacay to the mortal realm, drags her with him, and next thing anyone knows, she’s working behind a bar.”

The remaining jet skis and their terrified, wounded riders had been neatly rounded up, which meant it was time for Eve to open her purse.

“Um – how long have those been in there?” asked Michael, watching her take out three grenades.

“You want one?” she offered. “Don’t forget to take the pin out before you throw it. I did that my first time.”

One thing to be said for millions of dull, dull years spent sitting next to God’s Greatest Warrior, skipping stones across a lake; your aim got good.

The first blast was a warning, not close enough to actually kill any of Bismarck’s men, though the resultant waves did knock several into the water. They tried to retreat, turning their vehicles around, only to remember Mazikeen, corralling them single-handed and now armed with machine guns she’d confiscated from those already bested.

When they saw the second and third grenade incoming, they gave up and abandoned the jet skis, jumping into the sea and swimming for their lives.

“Fuck!” Michael yelped, blocking his ears at the concomitant explosions.

Gazing past the debris and smoke, Eve saw Mazikeen head for the nearest of the two speedboats. Its occupants, preoccupied with aiming a rocket launcher at The Choronzon, saw her coming far too late.

“I get your point,” said Eve, as her girlfriend and her halberd made short work of the crew. “But that’s a really… how can I put this? It’s a really angelic way of looking at things. Maze doesn’t consider anything ‘beneath her’.”

“Wow. Sick burn. You’re basically admitting she has no pride.”

“Oh, she’s got pride. Tons of pride. Her pride’s just dependant on how well she does a job, not on the type of job she has. She wasn’t happy working at Lux, but that wasn’t because she thought bartending was ‘beneath her’; it was because she prefers doing things she’s good at. Customer service isn’t really one of her strengths.”

The second speedboat was abandoned by its crew mere seconds before Mazikeen rammed the first speedboat into it, cackling victoriously.

“Actually,” Eve said, moving from Michael’s shadow to where Mazikeen had earlier set a crate of peach soda – her favourite – out on the deck, “now that you mention it, I guess I’m the one with no pride. Haven’t really ever had anything to be proud of. Your Dad never gave me the chance. I was never meant to do things. I was just meant to be.”

Michael snorted. “Lucky you. Trust me; he may have softened in his later years, but back in the day he never, ever stopped riding our asses. You think Lucy really rebelled because he had better plans for how the universe should be run? Because he was an innovator? Nope. Lazy dick just hated being told to do his chores.”

By the time Mazikeen swam back to them, saltwater had washed off the blood and her ponytail had come loose.

“Oh, hey,” said Eve, gripping her hand and pulling her up. “A mermaid.”

After pressing a rough kiss to her cheek and taking a swig of peach soda, Mazikeen asked, “You okay? He did his job?”

Eve patted the angel’s shoulder – the one that wouldn’t hurt. “He was terrific! Awesome addition to the team.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Michael mumbled.

Ignoring him, Mazikeen snatched up a towel to dry her hair. “Glad to hear it. Alright! Let’s get Bismarck back to shore, get paid, and find a place to have dinner so we can toast Team Hellrazor’s first successful mission.”

“R-A-Z-O-R,” Eve informed Michael. “To make it cooler.”

Bombshell curls. The only way to celebrate victory.

“Should I even ask why your hair smells like burning plastic?” asked Britney, a sixty-four year old veteran stylist with spectacles and a bright blue bob. She’d worked in Hollywood since she was seventeen and her skilled hands, according to rumour, had tended to Viola Davis herself.

Mazikeen flipped through a magazine with the hand that wasn’t getting its nails painted red-gold by two assistants down on their knees, as intensely focused as if they were touching up The Last Supper. “Blew up some jet skis. Don’t worry about it.”

Picking up the curling iron, Britney said, “That handsome guy you and Eve came in with… new boyfriend?”

“Ha! No. Not in a million years. He’s my intern.”

Eve had only wanted a trim and, as soon as it was done, had dragged Michael away to shop for books and shoes. She was trying, without much subtlety, to work out what he liked; what he did for fun; if he was even capable of having fun. Waste of time, in Mazikeen’s opinion, especially considering that before the end of the week he’d probably run away to some dark hole where he could get back to wallowing in his bitterness. But maybe not. Eve clearly had hope and Mazikeen trusted her judgement.

As the assistants moved on to her other hand, her phone buzzed.

Glancing up to meet Britney’s gaze in the mirror, Mazikeen said, “Get that for me? My nails are wet and it’s probably Eve. Word’s got out what happens to all other humans who call me on a Saturday.”

The older woman’s blue eyebrows bounced as she picked up the phone. “Might be that tasty boss of yours!”

“Nope,” she muttered, old unhappiness flaring hot in her heart. “He only ever calls when he wants me to do something and right now, there’s nothing he can’t do himself.”

Britney held the phone up in front of her face.

There was a message from Linda.

Charlie’s missing his Auntie Maze – see u for dinner Tuesday? J <3

“Uh – are you crying?” asked Britney.

“No!” she snapped. “Just… shut up. Reply for me. Say yes. And add a knife emoji. I always use knife emojis.”

Just then, a white woman with long brown hair and skinny jeans strode purposefully into the salon.

Britney tutted and held up a hand. “Ma’am? I’m sorry, but Ms Smith has booked the entire…”

She trailed off as the woman’s eyes flashed red.

“Chantinelle,” Mazikeen greeted, spinning the chair round and crossing her legs regally. “It’s okay, Britney. She’s a friend. Well – an ally.”

Gravel-voiced, like she smoked heavily, the other demon drawled, “I’m touched, your great and gracious Majesty.”

Mazikeen snickered. “Bitch, get over here.”

With a smirk, Chantinelle marched over and planted a fierce kiss on her cheek.

“What news from Hell?” Mazikeen asked her sister.

Chantinelle briefed her while Britney and the others finished up her curls and manicure. They spoke in Lilim, Chantinelle parking her denim-clad butt on the vanity next to an arsenal of combs and keeping one eye on the door. She’d already tried twice to convince Mazikeen that a queen needed a bodyguard, to no avail.

When their meeting was concluded, Britney said, “So you’re from Holland, right? Oh! It’s a lovely country. My cousin lives there and she’s always telling me to visit.”

(Britney knew they weren’t from Holland. Britney knew they weren’t from Earth. Britney was one of those people who coped with uncomfortable realities like demons in her workplace by ignoring them.)

“Will you be coming home soon?” Chantinelle asked before she left.

Studying her reflection – avoiding her sister’s gaze – Mazikeen said, “Mmm. Yeah. Soon. Just got a few things to finish up here.”

“Well, don’t keep us waiting too long. The family misses you. I mean – it’s been years, y’know?”

“I know. I do.”

“I didn’t know you had a family,” Britney commented after Chantinelle had gone. “How come you never talk about them?”

Mazikeen handed over a wad of blood-spattered cash. “Eh. After a while, I figured out that nobody likes it when I do.”

She began making her way across the mall to Eve’s favourite shoe shop, then stopped when she approached the arcade and heard her girlfriend’s laugh over the beeps and buzzes of various games.

Unsurprised, she wandered in and found her on the Dance Dance Revolution platform, barefoot and skirt twirling as she beat the shit out of someone’s high score, surrounded by a crowd of cheering, applauding onlookers.

Michael stood off to the side, clutching three bulging shopping bags and looking mortified.

“I couldn’t stop her,” he hissed to Mazikeen. “What the hell? What the actual hell? I thought you were trying to maintain a reputation on this crummy rock! What’re your enemies going to think if this is how your allies behave in public?”

“I figure they’ll think something like, ‘Oh my God, she’s tapping that? I am going to literally die of jealousy’,” Mazikeen said, kicking off her stilettos and handing them to him. “Go fetch us some bottled water, wimp. We’ll be here for a while.”

Eve’s competitor on the adjacent platform yelped as Mazikeen shoved him off and took his place.

“Hi, pretty lady,” said Eve, her eyes sparkling. “You know I’ve been dancing for millions of years, right?”

Mazikeen grinned at her and tossed back her bombshell curls. “Bring it, beautiful.”

Out the corner of her eye, she saw Michael blush bright red.

What was he doing here?

“We are fifteen miles over the speed limit!”

Mazikeen cackled and drove faster. In the seat beside her, Eve punched the air and turned up the radio until Michael thought Rihanna’s voice would burst even his divine eardrums. (Contrary to his brother’s accusations, he did, in fact, enjoy some types of music. Just not when it was loud or fast-paced.)

“May I remind you of a crucial fact?” he demanded, having to shout to be heard. “It’s not me who’ll die if this thing flips! Angel, remember? You two are the ones who’ll be splattered all over the road! Hello? Is anybody listening to me?”

“I’m a fine-tuned supersonic speed machine,” Mazikeen sang.

The desert outside the cherry-red convertible they’d stolen in Las Vegas was a sickening blur and he hated it. Not that he’d never travelled this fast – though he was slower than just about all his siblings in the air, he could still outpace a jet. But flying under his own power couldn’t be compared to being trapped in this hideous human death trap under the command of a demon and a madwoman.

“I’ll be fine,” he said, this time to himself, gripping his seatbelt with both hands like it was the neck of an angry serpent. “Whatever happens. Even if we crash. They’ll die. I’ll be fine.”

“Hey!” called Eve, turning to look at him, squinting. “Are you really not having fun? Maze! Slow down! He’s not having fun.”

Mazikeen groaned but brought them back to a less terrifying percentage of light speed, while Eve undid her seatbelt and climbed into the back with Michael.

He sputtered. “Jesus H. Christ – you’re not supposed to do that while the vehicle is moving. Rules exist for a reason, goddammit.”

“I’m sorry we freaked you out,” Eve told him, with… confusing sincerity.

None of his siblings had ever apologised for frightening him, Lucifer least of all (“Aww – don’t be so nervous, brother!” and a golden laugh from the brave, adventurous Morningstar after he’d enticed Michael to fly with him into a hurricane for fun and the noise and sight of it had made his twin cry).

When Michael was young, he’d assumed that was because apologies were for lesser beings, like mortals – except that when he’d discovered his latent talent for underhanded pranks, his siblings had all turned around and demanded apologies from him. The pranks had become progressively mean-spirited after that.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop – for the punchline – he said, carefully, “It’s fine.”

The wind had blown Eve’s hair all over the place. As she brushed it out of her eyes, he was reminded that today she’d chosen to wear one of her thin white summer dresses, this one low-cut enough to make it clear that that was all she was wearing.

Now mischievous, she winked at him. “But you know… if I made a habit of following those rules you like so much, I’d still be married and bored out of my mind. Wanna kiss?”

He nearly jumped out of the car.

“Uh,” he croaked.

His gaze flickered past Eve’s inquisitive face to the back of Mazikeen’s head. How long did he have? How many milliseconds left before she turned around and tore out his throat in a fit of frenzied jealousy?

“Hell, yeah!” Mazikeen cheered, throwing up the horns. “One of you take a picture for me. Or, better yet, move over so I can see you in the rear view mirror.”

Eve’s chin tilted downwards as she examined Michael. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem like he’s into it. Er – yikes. Actually, I think he’s gonna throw up. Might wanna pull over, babe.”

“I’m not going to throw up! I just need… just need air. Could you sit back for a moment?” he hissed.

She did so and he got his breathing under control. Crap, his shoulder hurt so much today.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, fidgeting. “I didn’t mean to-…”

“Is this because of him?” Michael snarled, suddenly furious.

“What?”

“Him! Lucifer! He dumped you, yeah? And now you’re – what, trying to get back at him by hitting on me? Or is it just because I look like him so I’m the best substitute you can get, or-…”

She slapped him.

It hurt.

(It really did. What? Since when did getting hit by mortals hurt?)

Mazikeen whistled approvingly.

“No,” said Eve, half-growling. “I’m not like that. I don’t use people like that, Michael.”

He touched the part of his face where her skin had met his. It felt hot. Tingly. He swallowed. “Um – right. Got it.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

The anger in her eyes subsided. “Good. Now, would you like to kiss me or not? It’s fine if you don’t want to. You’ll still be part of the team. This is just for fun.”

Feeling oafish and off-kilter, he gestured at Mazikeen. “Won’t she mind?”

“Nope!” Mazikeen volunteered without hesitation.

Eve, exasperated, huffed, “I already asked her if she’d mind. Do you really think I’d put the offer on the table if I hadn’t? Whatever they say about me in the Silver City, I’m neither frivolous nor disloyal. I didn’t go behind Adam’s back when I fell in love with your brother; I told him to his face what I was doing.”

“Oh. Didn’t know that.”

“Because he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t care. Adam was a decent man who didn’t love me at all. But Maze does, and I love her, and we’ve decided this is something we’re both okay with.”

“Yeah, most demons are poly,” Mazikeen told him. “As long as everyone’s on board and on the same page, you can hook up with whoever you like.”

“Last chance: kiss or no kiss?” said Eve.

She was close enough now for him to smell her perfume. His chest felt tight. “I don’t like ultimatums.”

“Okay. How about wagers? I bet you anything I’m the best kisser you’ve ever met. Or requests? Please, please kiss me, Michael. Or-…”

She was so warm. Her breath flowing into his mouth felt like drinking hot chocolate on a Winter’s night, sugary heat poured down his throat and filling up his whole chest.

His bones seemed to melt. He slid down the seat, half-pushed, until he lay almost flat with her on top of him, cradling his face in her hands, her thumbs making slow, comforting circles on his jaw.

“Ghnnff-fu-fuck,” he slurred.

That he was hard, and had been hard ever since he’d noticed how low-cut her dress was, seemed almost irrelevant in the face of far more interesting observations, like the soft grunts she made or the way her breasts felt pressed tight against him, until she slid a thigh between his legs.

He cried out. Arched.

“There you go,” she purred against his neck.

Elegant and effortless, she took off her shoes and her panties, and slid down onto his cock with a soft, fluttering sigh. Grabbed his hand and raised it to cover one of her nipples.

Just before he came, he opened his eyes and gazed up, and the sun had moved behind her, draining all but her edges of definition, and the wind had picked up her hair again and sent it billowing up and out, like dark wings. Like his wings.

“Michael! Ah!”

The car stopped.

“Huh,” said Mazikeen. “There’s something you don’t see every day.”

She pointed. Panting, they both followed her finger.

Across the sky, from one horizon to the next, the clouds had arranged themselves into the words

I LOVE YOU DETECTIVE !!!!

-LM

“Oh, crud,” said Eve.

Fuck the next bounty.

After thinking about it for ten seconds, Mazikeen turned them around and started driving straight for Los Angeles.

Eve can talk to him. Not me. He needs to talk to someone, and Eve will do.

Barely half a mile later, Amenadiel dropped out of the sky and landed in the middle of the road, just far enough away for her to bring the car to a screeching halt before it would otherwise have slammed into him like wet clay into a steel wall.

“We’ve got a problem,” he said, looking exhausted.

She snorted and pointed skyward. “Yeah. This? Not gonna lie, I was expecting something like this. But I thought it would take, like, at least a month.”

Wincing, Amenadiel said, “No, that’s… that’s a different problem and Chloe’s promised to discuss it with him. Maze, we need you back at Lux. Now.”

“Hi, Amenadiel!” Eve called, waving.

He succeeded in smiling at her without even glancing at Michael, despite his younger brother sitting right at her side, glaring fixedly.

“Why?” demanded Mazikeen, tensely drumming her fingers on the wheel. (Inner voice hissing, Shouldn’t have left him alone, you dumb bitch, you’ve been doing this for centuries and you know what he’s like when you leave him alone for more than five minutes.) “Seriously – what could he possibly need me for? He’s God.”

Sighing, Amenadiel put his wings away. “Mazikeen, we’re all well aware that Lucy often… has difficulty focusing. To put it mildly. There’s a lot more for him to focus on now than ever before. He’s trying to undo climate change. To that end, he started refreezing all the melted ice in the Arctic. But he did it too quickly and, resultantly, there are several hundred trapped ships we need to save and several thousand dead penguins to resurrect and, to be honest, he hasn’t really got the hang of resurrection yet – you remember what Dan looked like for the first few hours after Lucifer brought him back to life…”

“Eurgh. Yeah. Yuck. Totes not the kinda shit you’d wanna see in Happy Feet.”

Michael was snickering.

“Right. And then there are all the changes he’s been making locally,” Amenadiel went on. “The expansion of Lux, the overnight disappearance of all Los Angeles’ firearms, his deciding that the city’s white supremacist population should grow a third ear so they can be easily identified, and, well, it turns out that a lot of Chloe’s colleagues at the police station-…”

“I get it, I get it. Chaos everywhere. As usual. What, exactly, is the problem he wants me to fix?”

Amenadiel exhaled heavily. “The demons. The ones you brought from Hell to help us defeat Michael.”

“Oh, so you do remember I exist,” Michael muttered.

Stonily ignoring him, Amenadiel said, “They’re still on Earth and they’re causing trouble. The one called Dromos, in particular. He’s gathered followers and they’ve surrounded Lux.”

Her brother’s face – his real face, not the human puppet he wore – flashed through her mind’s eye; a memory from when they were unruly children and had raced through Hell together, using the stone pillars that they’d not yet known were cells as an obstacle course. She’d been faster; he, more athletic. Together with a few cousins, they’d made a fearsome team, and not even their meanest older siblings had bullied them.

She folded her arms and looked away. “They’re demons. Lucifer can deal with them. Snap his fingers and turn them into rats or whatever. Make them explode.”

“Mazikeen,” Eve murmured, soft and low, touching her shoulder. “You don’t want that. They’re your family.”

Amenadiel blinked, as though that hadn’t occurred to him. “Er… yes, there’s that. There’s also the fact that Lucifer doesn’t want all of humanity to see him as the type of God who casually annihilates his enemies; a harsh, vindictive God. He wants to be liked. To be loved.”

“Fine. So why don’t you and the other angels sort it out?”

“Come now, Maze. A bunch of angels and a bunch of demons waging war in the midst of a bustling city? Humans will die. But you’re the Queen of Hell now and, by extension, the Queen of Demons. If you command Dromos to stand down, he will. This can all be resolved peacefully.”

Eve’s fingertips were cool against her skin.

Mazikeen looked back at the sky. The cloud letters were starting to dissolve. “What does he want?”

“Who?”

“Dromos. He doesn’t act on instinct. He’s a planner. He wants something.”

Shrugging, Amenadiel said, “He shouted at me about demanding an audience with the king. I didn’t ask for details. I don’t really care. Dromos isn’t someone I’m inclined to listen to at the best of times. The last time the wretch showed his face on Earth, he kidnapped my son.”

“Mmm. Kinda like your sister was gonna do. Kinda like you were gonna do, now that I think about it.”

“Maze!” he gasped, sounding shocked and hurt. “You can’t compared poor Remiel’s misguided actions to-…”

“I’ll do it,” she interrupted. “Take me to Lux. Now.”

“Excuse me? What about us?” snapped Michael.

Mazikeen met Eve’s gentle gaze. “You don’t need to be involved in this. My family drama, it – it’s not pretty.”

“My son killed my son,” said Eve, taking her hand. “My husband loved another woman. I’m used to drama.”

Swallowing, Mazikeen glanced at Michael. “And you, wimp?”

Feigning disinterest – feigning it badly – he said, “You showed up to my last domestic dispute. Guess this’ll make us square.”

“I’ve only got two arms. I can’t carry all of you,” Amenadiel pointed out.

Mazikeen rubbed her chin. “No… but you can carry the car, right?”

He didn’t have time for this. There was so much to do.

“World hunger,” he recited as he bounced from one laptop to the next, all twenty-three of them displaying a different article or video by a leading scientific or sociological mind, “wealth inequality, pollution, cancer, droughts, racism, elderly abuse, housing shortages, cruelty to animals…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda patiently, sitting on his best couch with her legs crossed, a cup of coffee and a laptop of her own beside her. “You said you wanted my advice as to how you should manage this whole ‘being God’ business.”

“I do, doctor! Very much. Your input is invaluable. Blast, where did I put that map of Alaska? I’m thinking of making it bigger; slotting it in alongside the Arctic to help stabilise all that new ice.”

“Right. Thanks. So here – here is what I’m suggesting now; slow down. Seriously. Take a breath, step back, and think your next move through.”

He scoffed. “‘Slow down’? Doctor, I need to work at least three times faster if I’m to keep up with everything. There are people suffering everywhere, millions of them! There are sinners in need of punishment! I’m seriously considering asking Chloe to be my Deputy God. I never imagined omnipotence would entail so much paperwork and she’s always been better at that than me.”

Outside the penthouse, many stories below, the chanting grew louder. None of the human police officers, journalists, and gawkers who’d gathered to watch could understand it; it was in Lilim.

Cursing, Lucifer strode to the balcony and shouted down, “For the last time, would you all kindly piss off? I’m trying to fix an entire planet here!”

He heard the elevator open and moaned. “Detective, not now. Please. I’m very sorry I haven’t returned your calls – I swear I’m not avoiding you – it’s just that I’ve got a lot on my plate today and we did already agree to meet for supper at-…”

“Lucifer,” said Linda, sounding terrified.

“Lucifer,” said someone else, sounding irritable.

Now that he was God, rage didn’t turn his eyes red anymore. It turned them gold and blindingly bright, like spotlights. Fists clenched, he turned to see Dromos step into the penthouse, once again clad in the flesh of the late Father Kinley and wearing a leather jacket.

“Nice trick, making all the doors disappear. Finally decided to climb up the side of the building with a sledgehammer and burrow my way through into the elevator shaft,” said the demon, hands in his pockets and concrete dust coating his beard and his bald head. “I want to talk to you, sire.”

Storming across the room while Linda remained frozen, white-faced, on the couch, Lucifer snarled, “You! You have the nerve to come here, to stand before me, after what you did to my nephew?”

He took Dromos by the neck and lifted him off the ground, his wings opening in fury (he had six of them now).

Stoical even as he choked, Dromos said, “I need. To talk. I will leave immediately afterwards.”

“Oh, you’ll leave, alright! You’ll be lucky if I don’t throw you into an active volcano, you accursed traitor!”

Dromos’ stolen skin began to sizzle beneath his fingers. He waited until the demon’s face was wrinkled with pain before throwing him to the floor hard enough to crack the wood and make a crater.

“I will leave,” Dromos gasped, coughing up blood, “when I have spoken.”

“What could you possibly have to say for yourself? Kidnapper. Child-thief.”

Still on the couch, Linda said tremulously, “Lucifer, you’re… you’re hurting him. Stop it. Please.”

“Let us stay!” shouted Dromos, and coughed again before dragging himself up onto his knees. “On Earth. That’s what I came to say. Let your erstwhile subjects stay on Earth if they choose – at least, those who served you in the battle against Michael. Don’t force them to return to Hell. Let them, let us choose where we live, going forward. That’s my request, your Majesty. My only request.”

Lucifer boggled at him. “Is that a joke? Demons? On Earth, indefinitely, unsupervised? Are you out of your tiny mind, Dromos?”

Baring teeth, Dromos said, “Why not? What does it matter to you now? You’ve got everything you could possibly want. Everything anyone could possibly want! All we’re asking is the freedom to come and go as we please.”

“No.”

He spoke the word bluntly, and then he stepped back, adjusting his cuffs. Regaining his composure. “Never. You’re dangerous and untrustworthy. This world is for humans, not you. Good grief, haven’t I got enough to preoccupy my mind, without the added stress of demons rampaging around town?”

“We won’t rampage. We just-…”

“Why are you even coming to me with this? Mazikeen’s the new Queen of Hell. Didn’t you get the memo?”

Dromos wiped blood from his lips. “I don’t know if my sister and I are on speaking terms right now. And she may be Queen, but you’re God; I assumed you would be tasked with such decisions. After all, there’s never been a demon in charge of Hell before. We were told – we were always told – that only angels could rule us. I don’t doubt Mazikeen’s competence, but I…”

He seemed to run out of steam, spreading his hands and finishing weakly, “Lucifer, you’re the king. You’ve been the king for millions of years. For my entire life. Look, if you really don’t want us leaving Hell, then can you at least use your newfound power to improve it? Let us have the things mortals enjoy? Pianos, dogs, blankets, weekends, all that stuff?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “That would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it? Hell is supposed to be a place of punishment. The ultimate consequence awaiting sinners. I need a carrot and a stick, Dromos. How else am I supposed to convince people to behave if I don’t? Imagine a rapist arriving in Hell and being confronted with demons playing pianos and walking their dogs. Wouldn’t have quite the desired effect, would it?”

Dromos was quiet for a moment, then said without inflection, “Perhaps you could find somewhere else to put rapists. Somewhere other than our home.”

Throwing up his arms, Lucifer said, “More demands! Don’t you see how selfish you’re being? Here I am, doing my best to end all suffering, and you’re complaining about babysitting a few evil-doers – which, might I remind you, is your job. Nay, your very reason for existence. Always has been. Why’re you getting stroppy about it now?”

“I think,” Linda began, taking a tentative step forward before stopping and clearing her throat. “Excuse me. May I interrupt? Um. Okay, so I think that maybe Dromos has a point here, Lucifer.”

“Doctor! This is the creature that stole your baby!”

“Yes, I know. And I’m not saying I forgive him for that, but…”

“I wasn’t going to eat the brat,” Dromos grumbled. “I was going to make him a king.”

“You took him away from his mother!” Lucifer shouted.

“Gentlemen!” said Linda, sharply. “Please! Let’s try to talk this through like adults.”

Overcome with frustration, and only vaguely aware that he’d not been sleeping well lately, Lucifer kicked the nearest chair. “I can’t believe you’re siding with him, doctor.”

“I’m not siding with anyone. I-…”

“You don’t know these people like I do. You didn’t spend millions of years in Hell alongside them. The only demon you’ve ever gotten acquainted with is Maze, and she’s not like the others; even without a soul, she’s learned how to behave like a more-or-less civilised adult, barring the occasional tantrum. But your average, baseline demon has nothing to them besides wrath and cruelty. Lilith made them to be weapons and that’s all they really are. I mean – just imagine, for a moment, how hard it was for me. To go from the Silver City, the most beautiful place ever created, to a lightless nightmare realm full of these bloodthirsty animals. To be surrounded by them, for endless eons, while they nattered mindlessly on and on about how much they love torture and pain and…”

He trailed off. Linda and Dromos were both looking past him.

To the elevator. Where – oh – Mazikeen was standing.

Where Mazikeen was crying.

No sobs, not like when Dan had died. No expression at all, really. Just open eyes, motionless muscles, and steady tears.

Before Lucifer could say a word, she pressed the button to close the elevator doors.

“Wait!” he yelped, sprinting over to stop them.

He needn’t have bothered. Now that he was God, objects did whatever he told them to do. The doors stilled, half-open.

“That sounded wrong,” he acknowledged, clasping her shoulders in apology. “You completely missed the context. What I was trying to say was-…”

“Don’t touch me.”

It was a phrase he’d heard many times before from mortal lovers to whom he had accidentally revealed his Devil Face. Some of them said it in horror. Some of them, the religious ones, said it in anger.

Mazikeen looked neither horrified nor angry. She looked sick. As though the very sight of him turned her stomach.

Lumbering over, Dromos stepped into the elevator alongside her and pointedly pressed the button again. With no idea what to do or say, Lucifer allowed the machinery to work.

The elevator closed.

“What have I done?” he asked Linda.

Nothing I didn’t know.

“Maze?” called Eve, waiting by the car with the others as Mazikeen stepped out of Lux’s front door and into the sunlight.

The door hadn’t been there when they’d arrived. She’d been forced to use Dromos’ route. Lucifer must have decided to put it back. He could do that now. Just decide things. Didn’t need servants, nor followers, nor anyone. Sure didn’t need a ‘more-or-less civilised adult’ whose kin were animals.

“Maze! Wait!”

Mazikeen didn’t know where she was going, only that she was walking very quickly and felt that she’d die if she stopped. She heard Eve’s heels patter on the pavement and heard her say her name a third time, quiet and worried, and that was what stilled her feet.

“What happened?” murmured Eve, cupping her face.

The fifty or so demons who’d been standing around outside Lux when Amenadiel had set the car and its passengers down were still there. Instead of chanting to get their king’s attention, they were now looking at her.

Michael and Amenadiel stood among them, the latter having been trying to convince them to stop blocking traffic.

Which was what she should have been doing. It was what he’d brought her here to do. But she’d been gripped by a sudden, violent need to see Lucifer, to check on him, just quickly, before tending to her siblings. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Except that wasn’t what I was. Not to him. To him, I was a Rottweiler on a leash.

“Are you alright?” asked Amenadiel, his eyes overflowing with concern.

That was what cracked her.

To him. Not to everyone. Not to Eve, or Amenadiel, or Linda. It’s not that I’m incapable of earning love and respect.

I’m just incapable of earning his.

Her legs gave out. She crumpled against Lux’s outside wall and started to weep properly, loud and bitter.

Eve immediately dropped down beside her, holding her tight. Michael shuffled closer, rubbing his shoulder while his mouth opened and shut, testing out sentences that were never spoken.

Then Dromos was there, kneeling, his face sad and tired.

“We did what we were told,” she said to him in Lilim, through sniffles. “We obeyed. We were loyal. We… we…”

“We are alone, sister,” he replied. “But I think we always were.”

“We obeyed!”

“We obeyed Lilith and she left. We obeyed Lucifer and he left. No one wants us, Mazikeen. It’s just the truth.”

She took a shuddering breath and squeezed her eyes shut. “No. I want us.”

Seizing his jacket’s shoulder, she hauled herself to her feet and addressed the crowd, her voice raw: “I want you! You’re my family and I want you! And I swear I will be the queen you deserve, for as long as you’ll have me!”

Her human skin fell away, the left side of her face turning cold, bony, and brittle.

Stepping back to join their siblings, Dromos asked hesitantly, “What would you have us do, then, my queen? What are your orders?”

Hurriedly drying her eyes, she studied them one by one. “Whoever wants to can stay here. But I’m going home. Hell is going to be ours, Dromos. No more damned souls. No more angels. It’s ours now and we’re going to make it into something we can love.”

She turned to face Eve and Michael, her heart pounding. “You’ll come with me, yeah? You’ll stand with me?”

“Always,” said Eve, closing in to kiss her.

“Whatever,” Michael muttered, clearly just relieved that the crying part was over.

Amenadiel sighed, shaking his head gravely. “Mazikeen, are you sure this is what you want? You won’t be able to leave Hell on your own – you’ll need to contact me.”

“Yeah. At least until this one grows his feathers back,” she said, gesturing at Michael. “That’s okay. You’ll always come when I call, right?”

“Of course. You’re my friend, Maze. I’m sorry if I haven’t said that often enough.”

Fuck it. Cringing on the inside, Mazikeen drew Amenadiel into a quick, gruff hug. “You too, idiot.”

TO BE CONTINUED

#lucifer #mazikeen #lucifer morningstar #eve #michael #michael demiurgos #amenadiel #dan espinoza #linda martin #fanfic #my fic

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televised-dreams · 3 years

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im making this post because i just want to rant how genuinely good tma is?? ok before this i have been in the worst fandoms for horrible shows that queerbait and kill off any sort of representation and literally just have horrible plotlines and horrible ideas and any time i would get invested in something my interest would die out bc of just. another queer character getting killed. the show is all white people. the show was canceled because it was actually pretty good at its diversity content and that’s not okay,,, why give lgbtq ppl nice things??

but the magnus archives?

it’s a full length, VERY, VERY WELL WRITTEN, story, with a vast variety of characters that can be imagined in so many different ways.

it has queer romance, but not shittily handled queer romance, an actual slow-burn sort-of-enemies-to-lovers queer romance that is so well written that it makes me just cry because of how happy it makes me. this is what i’ve been wanting for YEARS. it’s not just a “oh let’s make the fans happy” sort of thing! that’s a big thing too! it’s actually built up over years and years of character development where it’s not just a random fanservice thing, it’s an essential piece to the plot and storyline!

the characters are so well developed, so complex, multifaceted. the horror is so well done. idc if anyone disagrees with that point, bc imo, the horror is so, so, so, well done. i have been legitimately terrified by so many of those episodes. i have developed Trypophobia (not joking i literally cant stand small holes now). season 5 especially. episode 177 i think is the scariest for me i stg that one was SO INCREDIBLY WELL WRITTEN i just had to sit down afterwards and be like HOLY SHIT.

the representation isn’t shoved in your face like *character stares directly into camera* “yes i am Gay”, no, it’s inserted into the media as it would be done in real life. that’s so huge, because it’s representation, but GOOD REPRESENTATION. THESE CHARACTERS ARE HERE, IN THE STORY BECAUSE THEY ARE ESSENTIAL TO THE PLOT, AND THEY ALSO HAPPEN TO BE LGBTQ!!!! that’s so so so BIG. I love that. Its so important to have characters like that because like lgbtq ppl exist irl,, they shouldn’t just be used as plot devices!!

martin being continually described as fat, or at least not as “averagely skinny” and jon having ridiculous amounts of scars also makes me happy too!! although the scars are a part of his trauma and therefore are sad, stillllll as someone with scars myself, it makes me feel better about it knowing there are characters like me out there!! i can’t talk as much abt how martin’s weight representation impacts me, as i am “average sized”, it’s not really my place, but i can say that i just love seeing the representation of different sized bodies out there.

personally, I can’t talk on the race aspect of things, and how jon is characterized by the fandom as a poc as i am white as hell and it is not my place. i know there are varying opinions about that, so anyone that is POC that wishes to make their rant in a reblog, feel free :D!!

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #mag #magpod #tma rant #aj rants #shut up aj nobody cares #tma spoilers #tma s5 spoilers #kind of

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jumin-deserves-better · 4 years

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My thoughts on all the Mystic messenger characters and their routes :

Ok, last week I finished playing the mystic messenger game. I completed all the routes, DLCs etc. And, OMG, WHAT A RIDE WAS THAT ! . It doesn't have any appealing plot like other otome games, but this game sure did capture my heart,which most of the otome games fail to do so. The fact I could relate to some of the characters, I felt bad for them, concerned, weirded out at times , and so happy when they changed into a happy person because of me. The game deserves all the praise it gets, 10/10 👍

In this post, I will give my rating based on my playthrough for each character, and I will also say who is my true route as well, i.e, the route I fell in love the most, And please remember, these are based on MY opinions alone, please don't come at me, if it doesn't match yours 👀, Feel free to share your opinions about the characters as well & this post is way long beware ~☆

My playthrough order : I followed the recommended playthrough to get a clear picture of the storyline.

Zen 》Yoosung》 Jaehee》 Jumin 》 Seven》 V 》 Ray.

And for your kind information, I never played this game to get a bad ending, i didn't want to hurt those precious fictional characters just for getting one CG 🤐, but I do know what happens

SPOILER FREE!, I will be just giving MY OWN ratings , except for the rika part lol don't worry, ladies.!

Anyways, let's just jump into it ;),

Zen 🤍:

THAT SMIRK THOUGH 😏

His route : 9/10 ( not the best route, but I liked it anyways, as he is my 1st route)

His character: 8/10 ( I don't like narcissism or narcissistic people, I know it was his coping mechanism, but I kind of dislike those type of men, his attitude in Jumin's route, kinda pissed me off apart from that , he is great ! )

Is he my true route ? : NO, I don't like guys who are narcissistic, I understand that that its was his coping mechanism, to make him believe in himself, but still being narcissistic all the time is not ok, I have a bad memory because of those type of guys, moreover, I am not that confident irl 😂 , I mean the MC in Zen's route,will have to say lots of weird ass choices, and the fact that will impress him⁉️, i wouldn't even say those choices irl to anyone . I wouldn't mind being friends with him though. He is definitely the ideal BF material, but he is just isn't for me..Sorry, Zen.😅

Yoosung 💚 :

AWW CUTIE 🥺💕

His route : 9/10 ( apart from the "You are just like Rika", I personally enjoyed his route, the character development was the best at the end 👌)

His character : 9/10 (OMG! He is just so cute, I am not the one to get attracted to the 'younger guy' type, but this guy just changed everything for me, but he needs lots of attention , beware, yandere yoosungs will pop out if u don't care about him enough, and the fact this guy was the only one who was supportive for Jumin's relationship with MC in Jumin's route , showed how much of a cutie he is!, unlike others 😒, he was a bit annoying in V's route, but it is understandable, he deserves to knw the truth about the person who he admires )

Is he my true route ? : Kind of a YES & a NO. Eventhough I enjoyed his route more than Zen, like I said earlier I am not into those 'younger guy' type, he is a guy who loves to be babied and protected by a mature MC , and well...I am not that mature either 😛,in reality, I am a independent person, but when it comes to relationships, i liked to be babied 😏. I personally think he deserves someone better than me, I don't want to ruin his happiness 🥺

Jaehee 🤎 :

A friend in need is a friend indeed, my bae,Jaehee! 😄

Her route : 7/10 ( ok, I am gonna be honest here, I did not enjoy her route, I was happy that she realized her dreams and goes for it, but do we have to ruin a character just for making this route dramatic? Yes, I am talking about Jumin, Do u guys even know, how much I struggled to even start Jumin's route, I was literally scared of him because of his potrayal in this route as that jerk which he was btw,this route actually made me avoid Jumin for sometime.I expected the relationship between Jumin and Jaehee to become a healthy one, but oh well, whatever, & the after ending was just frustrating,all the RFA members just isolated Jumin, seriously, eventhough he did wrong things ,I felt so bad for him, imagine his thoughts at that moment , ugh...Jaehee deserves a better route, I am just not a fan of 'downgrading one character to give more importance to the main one', it's just bad writing)

Her character : 8/10 ( she is an amazing friend, a bit mature one at that. But personally i felt , if she really wanted to pursue her dreams ,she could have resigned, if she is not liking it . She was behaving a bit ignorant at times, especially in Zen's route. She could have communicated with Jumin beforehand about her difficulty in handling the job? I knw it's very difficult to suddenly quit the job, but she has every right to resign,she does have the money to open a coffee shop, thn why?. Don't come at me, and tell me that I hate her just because she is a female character,HELL NO, I like her but still her route made me have mixed feelings. She was being rude at times , I really understood why CHERTIZ did this, to show women can liberate themselves to work for their dreams, but in a professional point of view, I still think the route could have been handled better. Small businesses success isn't as easy to get, and in my point of view it would have been nice to show how MC and Jaehee make it through in her route rather than making Jumin a jerk, because it ruined Jumin at first for not only me but also a number of players ,but oh well,🏃‍♀️, I do like her, she could be a great friend, nothing more that that )

Is she my true route? : NO, I am straight. I see Jaehee as a friend. Some ask a romantic route for her, but I don't mind about that , I was just glad that I could help her to realize her dreams as a FRIEND.

Jumin 💜 :

I don't see a selfish jerk here, I see a soft boi , in a gigantic body, who is just lonely

His route : 10/10 ( Seriously, I did not expect to like his route one bit, I thought I would hate him more, but turns out, I freaking fell in love with the flawed "him" , HECK YEAH! this was the only route where i was being TRUE TO MYSELF, did not refer any guides, understood his loneliness, I could relate to him so bad, I was happy to help him during his vulnerable times 🤧.Zen was annoying ,but I didn't care much about it, because I knw why he was like this. I prefer the good ending, and yes he does propose for marriage to whom he have talked for only 11 days, but I was very sure he will listen to you, if u don't want the marriage immediately )

His character : 9/10 ( He is so cute in his own way,mature, intelligent,awkward and even gets insecure,because he thinks he does not deserve you?! , you deserve better than me ,Jumin 😫, he does get possessive and irrational and that could make others uncomfortable, but for me, I understood that as well, being an empath myself ,as this dude never had a relationship with anyone,he is new into this, I don't mind teaching him new things about the world, about love. His characterization in Jaehee's route was god awful and cheritz did a bad job in it , I think they decided to make him like this, just for DRAMA,Jumin might have a bad way of showing emotions but he is not a soul less demon. I have seen people calling Jumin an abuser, but I didn't see that at all, he was being an idiot and he acknowledges it, every damn time, an abuser doesn't do this at all, and no..I don't think Jumin is dominant daddy material one bit like how the fandom perceives him. This is his first relationship with a woman, I feel he would be sweet, embarrassed loving and a loyal husband material, and I love his "opposed to living together before marriage" thing as well, as my religion follows that too as well )

Is he my true route? : A. BIG. FAT. YES. HE IS JUST MY TYPE, dear lord. I have never seen someone so perfect and also with flaws just like me , this guy made me realize that all along, I just never showed empathy towards others and that's why no one wanted to talk to me irl, I didn't care what people told about me. He seriously made me understand my own flaws and I corrected it, he made me into a better person, big thx , Mr.Jumin . Morever , I was being myself in his route only, I loved all of his calls , he brings up the strangest things just to talk to you, that's just so cute WTH , this man will be so loyal I am sure of it !.I don't really care about his riches, I am just in love with his true self 😫🥺

707 ❤ :

The main man of this game, hmmm....

His route : 7/10 ( ok, I was so hyped to play his route , cuz even before I started to play this game, 707 was so popular, I expected a lot, but it was a meh for me...he did have a VERY HEARTBREAKING PAST , he was suffering from a lot of things, I understand. But the whole route wasn't that gud though...and his secret endings are just painfully depressing and angsty, V's death just broke my heart, I felt so frickin bad for Jumin, how would he even handle those things?.It just destroyed me completely. Moreover I don't find 707's jokes funny at times, his route had good plot, but 707 failed to impress me in his own route)

His character : 7/ 10 ( oh boi,I am scared that I would be slaughtered with hatred for telling this, the fact that he was faking his own personality was very shocking to me, I did not expect that. I despise tsunderes ,and 707 is the literal definition of it, so yeah, It ended up being annoying for me. Even though I was hella depressed like 707 before, I couldn't find him #relatable at all. I don't knw why , but I couldn't see him more than a friend 🚶‍♀️)

Is he my true route? : NOPE. I was not impressed by him at all, don't knw why lol, I tried to like him as he is THE REAL TRUE ROUTE,but it is still not getting into my heart, maybe because I already started to love Jumin, idk. I felt bad for 707, I wouldn't mind helping him as a friend, but as a significant other...NAH....,I am not into these type of guys 🥴,sorry seven...

V 💙 :

I can understand why Jumin and V were best friends...they be looking like DADDY 👀

His route : 8 /10 ( for me, I was happy that V finally understood that he was basically a obsessive simp for Rika, I hated that he blamed himself more, which somehow I agree, I feel like he could have said something to the RFA , yoosung was hella annoying in this route, he spoke as if Rika is an angel or something, which she is not btw, yoosung, she brainwashed saeran and freakin created a cult, and this is not something an angel would do 🥴, V is not just flawed or anything,he doesn't even love himself,and so clings to rika because she was so wonderful in her eyes as an idea .He kept the freakin truth hidden,just because Rika doesn't want to, of course, my baby,yoosung will ask about . V is too emotional,and he was a victim of rika's abuse and manipulation just like Saeran,I liked the plot and though I didn't fall in love with him , I did have a tinsy bit of crush on him, mainly because of his looks, more like a puppy love, the voice acting was on point 👌)

His character : 7/ 10 ( boi could have handled the situation with his crazy GF much better, he actually let Saeran get brainwashed by Rika, he could have done something, and the fact that he liked Rika only as an idea, showed that this guy was in a very toxic relationship, Rika and V are the perfect example of what happens when two people who doesn't love themselves date, and he was clearly the victim of Rika's abuse and manipulation. I also don't think he is an angel either, he has done some wrong things definitely, and the fandom should acknowledge his wrong doings)

Is he my true route? : NO. Though Jumin and V are very similar , I did not like the fact that he simped for his crazy GF out of his obsession alone and though, she was clearly showing red flags earlier, he thinks that the power of love can change her lol . He was so confusing for me to understand. 😂

Ray 💖 :

His route : 10/10 ( The drama , the music, the plot & the voice acting was just fantastic, I was blown away by this route, but that doesn't mean I liked Saeran as a character, the boi needs therapy, not romance lol, sry,and the recovery from his brainwashed state was unrealistic )

His character : 7/10 ( seriously, the voice acting for both the personalities was just mind blowing, he is such a well written character, but his abandonment issues isn't something u should romanticize about, he loved the affection that the MC was giving , but one wrong move, he will change just like that , he confused affection with love. Some are telling that Jumin was abusive, which he is not btw , for me, suit Saeran was super abusive, WTH)

Is he my true route ? : HELL NO. Eventhough he was practically innocent because he was under the influence of that elixir or some kind of a drug and brainwashed by Rika , I would never in my life try to have a romantic relationship with those kind of people. I may like him after he receives proper therapy ,but NO, just No, I can help him as a person, but I wouldn't go for a kiss or something with him. 🙄

Rika 💔:

This scene still gives me goosebumps 🙄

Her character : -infinity / 20 ( she deserves this uwu)

SPOILERS AHEAD!

Ok, hear me out, I hate Rika so much , i know she has been through a lot, i really do.. but it doesn't mean you can emotionally abuse and brainwash Saeran, he would have been a better person,she turned a person who loves ice cream and cloud watching into a self destructive psycho, another story showed how much she is capable of by her words , She manipulated V to not tell RFA that she is gonna start a cult, WHAT THE HELL, V, do you not knw what she is trying to do here 😳 ? But whatever,V was being manipulated by her "playing as a victim" tactics, she also played with Jumin's feelings for her, I was about to throw my hands on her, how dare u do that to my man ??, made yoosung to obsess over her to make him think that she is absolutely a gud person, and left him to ponder over her so called 'passing' , making him unable to move on from her.

And oh god,the backstory did not make me feel bad for her one bit, it only made me understand why she has become like this. Like dude, I understood she had a shitty past, but so did the other members of RFA, but did they all become like a manipulative victim player? Hell no.. they learned from their mistakes and they change, but even when all the members were trying to help her, she denies that she doesn't need a therapy. She deserves a proper mental therapy and a proper jail time. NO EXCUSE FOR THAT, she did the same manipulation and brainwashing for all of her disciples to get them into Mint eye.

But as a character , Rika just rocked it for me , she was so successful in making me and a lot of the fans hate her as an antagonist. Her voice actor was so gud,she had such a good way of speaking manipulative, like God, I understood why all the RFA members were all kind of whipped for her, she is such a master piece as an antagonist. 🚶‍♀️🤫

Vanderwood 💞👀 :

I NEED A VANDERWOOD ROUTE 😫

His character: 10/10 idk, why am I giving a rating for him though? I just love him 😂

Ok, I know he is a side character, but for some reason, I liked him more than 707 lol 👀, I just spoke with him only in one chatroom , but boi , was I whipped for him 😜

*******************************************

My favourite to least MM main characters and routes :

JUMIN - 19/20 ( 1st)

YOOSUNG - 18/20 (2nd)

ZEN & RAY - 17/ 20 ( 3rd)

V & JAEHEE - 15 / 20 ( 4th )

707 - 14 / 20 ( 5th, it's not that I hate him or something, it's just that I was neither IMPRESSED by his character nor the route, I don't mind him one bit! )

Rika -Though she doesn't have a route or a gud character she deserves a -infinity/20 ( and no place in my heart 🚶‍♀️)

Overall, this game is the best otome game ! , I actually paid for getting the hourglasses, I mean, I suck at patience, I was so intrigued by the story, but it was seriously worth it !. There are a number of otome games which charge more than this.

Anyways,

Thank you, Cheritz for creating Mystic messenger. This game totally changed how I perceived life, love ❤ and Romance 💕

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